(Author's Note: This story has blood and death, violence and gore, and it ( )iefly touches on the subject of self-harm. Beware. For questions/comments/concerns/etc, go here!)
Chapter 1 - Love is a Battlefield
Wisteria paced around her palace in her favorite purple gown. The moonlight danced on her hair, illuminating the white stripe. She ( )ushed her hand through her hair, sighing. "Where is she?" her voice rang out in the quiet palace like a bird chirping quietly in a cave. Her chest rose and fell with her ( )eath.
"Wisteria?" a voice asked from behind Wisteria. She jumped, squeaking quietly, and turned to see who this voice belonged to. Standing in her yellow night gown, Chryssy gazed up at her sister. "I do hope you don't mind me asking this but why are you up this late? Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"I have...many matters to attend to. Go to sleep, Chrysanthemum." Wisteria told her sister, taking a deep ( )eath and turning her head up in authority. "She stood you up, didn't she?" Chryssy asked, sadly. "No! She's...she's coming!" Wisteria told Chryssy, gritting her teeth. "Oh, Wisteria..." Chryssy sighed.
The sisters walked along a rocky path outside of the palace. The rocks glistened like gemstones as the moonlight hit them. The grass whistled in the wind and Wisteria ( )ushed her hair off of her face. She could hear crashing waves on the beach below. “Wisteria!” a familiar voice called out. Thistle Periwinkle jumped from the top of a tree, landing in front of Wisteria. “I’m sorry I’m late, there were…matters that…needed tending to.”
“That’s alright.” Wisteria smiled. “Wisteria! I mean no disrespect but Ms. Periwinkle is always late, I do believe that perhaps, for once, you should not be so quick to forgive!” Chryssy exclaimed. “Sister, you are too harsh.” Wisteria took Thistle’s hand, “Go back to bed, Chryssy.”
“Wisteria-“
“Chrysanthemum Marigold, go back to bed.” Wisteria commanded Chryssy. Chryssy sighed deeply and walked back to the palace. Thistle smiled and laughed, “Well, isn’t she quite the handful?” She pulled Wisteria closer to her, stroking her cheek. “Why…were you so late?” Wisteria asked Thistle. Thistle looked at Wisteria, her face growing sad. “Again?”
“Yes.”
“Then….should I….”
“Yes.”
There was silence for a moment and then Wisteria smiled, “I’ll pack my things and awake Amaryllis.” Thistle smiled back at Wisteria, “I’ll meet you at the valley.” Thistle kissed Wisteria on the cheek, stroking her hair, and quickly dashed away.
“Wisteria! You can’t possibly be….I mean…“ Chryssy protested. “I am.” Wisteria replied, packing chainmail armor along with beautiful silk dresses. “You know, I worry about you on these little…excursions! What if one of those…things were to injure you badly or…worse.” Chryssy speculated. “You know that would never happen. I’m a powerful mage with millennia of experience.” Wisteria replied. “I understand that but even you have your limits.” Chryssy argued. Wisteria sighed and put her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “I’ll be ok. Don’t worry. You’ll have Vervain here to care for you.” Looking at her sister, Chryssy sighed and accepted that there was nothing that would change Wisteria’s mind. “Alright, sister…stay safe…” Wisteria smiled, “I will.”
Wisteria was the queen of the land of flowers. The land of flowers had big open fields with tall grass. That made it a perfect place for skeletons to attack from the queen of the east lands. If the skeletons weren’t stopped, they’d attack the townspeople. The land of flowers had been peaceful previous to the queen of the east’s attacks so they didn’t have any sort of army in place to protect the townspeople, instead Wisteria was forced to take on the attacks by herself. Wisteria was a trained mage but her magic alone couldn’t protect the land of flowers from the skeletons. Thistle, on the other hand, was trained in the ways of combat. Together, they could protect the land of flowers.
Wisteria’s horse, Amaryllis, ran through the fields. Wisteria’s long, black hair flowed gently behind her. She trusted Amaryllis, she was a smart and ( )ave horse and the two of them had a special bond. Amaryllis skidded to a stop and Wisteria almost fell off. She held onto Amaryllis’s mane and pulled herself back onto her horse, glaring at the skeleton army that had gathered in the fields. Thistle’s horse stopped short, flinging her into the army. She landed with her sword on a skeleton’s skull. With that, the fight started. Wisteria stayed on Amaryllis, using her magic to destroy the skeletons, and Thistle fought them head-on. But, suddenly, there was a blue light shining through the fields. Amaryllis’s eyes widened and she ran. Wisteria fell off and landed in a small stream. The skeletons crowded around Thistle and Wisteria. “Wisteria Wolfe Bane.” a voice boomed. “I am Melisande Mort, the Queen of the East. You cheated me out of love and now I will take your life.” A young woman with platinum white skin and long, blue hair rose into the sky, her black dress flowing behind her. “Enough!” Thistle yelled. “Whatever Wisteria did to you can’t be worth all of this!” Wisteria’s hands shook, she tried to lift herself up, out of the stream, but she couldn’t. Blood dripped down her face as she realized that her leg was ( )oken. “Wisteria!” Thistle cried, hopelessly looking to her fallen love. “Thistle Periwinkle, you have no place here.” Melisande told Thistle. “If you don’t think Wisteria deserves this, than I’ll make you understand the suffering I’ve endured!” Melisande shot a ring of blue magic at Thistle and she was knocked back, landing on the ground, unconscious.
The wind whispered and the cold night air tickled Thistle’s hair. She walked through the bamboo forest, the sound of giggling echoed through the night. Finally, she came to a small stream where two people sat, laughing happily. It was a young man with short, orange hair and a woman with long, blue hair. They smiled and talked until the woman had to leave. After she left, the man sighed. “You can come out now, Wisteria.”
A young Wisteria with ( )ight, yellow eyes walked out from behind the bamboo. “I was waiting forever for her to leave!” She sat down next to the man and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know…but it would ( )eak mother’s heart if I ( )oke up with her. You know how it is.” the man replied. “Why do you let your mother control your life, Anthos? Just ( )eak up with her, it’ll save both of you from heart( )eak.” Wisteria told the man. “I know.” he replied.
Thistle turned to see a ( )idge. The young Wisteria stood with the blue-haired woman. The man, Anthos, stood next to them. “He doesn’t love you, Melisande!” Wisteria yelled at the other woman. “We are destined to marry!” Melisande replied. “Why can’t you find someone who’s not engaged!” They yelled and bickered but eventually the confrontation turned violent. In their rage, they pushed Anthos off the ( )idge and into the water. They both screamed, watching him fall to his death. Tears streamed down Wisteria’s cheeks as she stared at the water. “You…” Melisande squeaked. “This is all your fault!”
“Melisande, please, enough-“ Wisteria pleaded. “No! Anthos is dead because of you! I hope, I-I hope…” Melisande growled, “I hope that every time you open your eyes, you see all of your worst fears, your worst lies, your worst deceit, all of the pain you’ve caused me!” Melisande slowly rose off the ground. “I curse you, Wisteria Wolfe Bane, I curse you with every fiber of my body!” Wisteria’s eyes grew wide and then turned entirely black and she screamed, falling to her knees. Thistle backed up, watching it all happen, and then she fell off the ( )idge. But, just before she hit the water, she awoke.
Thistle sat up, quickly, catching her ( )eath. What she had seen was terrible, she had never known this part of Wisteria’s past. It was dark, it seemed night had fallen. Moonlight shone through the window. She heard the sound of faint sobbing. Standing up, she walked through the halls, searching for the source. The candles on the walls flickered as she stepped into a small room. On the bed, facing the window, was Melisande, crying. “Melisande…” Thistle whispered. Melisande turned, quickly, and backed away from Thistle. “Please, leave me alone!”
“I saw it. I saw everything. It was painful to see Wisteria like that but….I now understand why you’re like this. Please, don’t be mad at her anymore. You were young, it was a mistake. You have a right to be upset but this chaos all needs to stop. Melisande….please listen to me.” Thistle told Melisande. She sat down, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her dress. “I know. I don’t want to kill her. I didn’t even mean to curse her like this. I just…I loved him and I miss him so much.” Melisande looked at her feet. “If you asked her…I’m sure she’d apologize.” Thistle said. Melisande looked at Thistle.
Thistle knocked on the door of one of the bedrooms In Melisande’s castle. “Come in…” a meek voice echoed from inside. Thistle opened the door to find Wisteria lying in a large bed. Her head, arm, and leg were bandaged. “Wisteria…” Thistle muttered, sadly. “W-Wisteria…I’m sorry f-for everything that happened with Anthos.” Melisande told Wisteria. “I am, too, Melisande.” Wisteria replied. Melisande smiled. “Thank you…that’s all I needed to hear.”
Chapter 2 - Life is a Box of Chocolates
Wisteria’s foot tapped a small rock and she screamed as it was consumed by lava and her foot was burnt. She backed away only to be met by ice. Her once beautiful Land of Flowers had become overgrown with lava, death, ice, and, worst of all, her own plants turning against her.
Wisteria sat up, quickly. Struggling to ( )eath, she looked around her. She was in her bedroom under the indigo blankets of her finely crafted wooden bed. She ( )ushed her hair out of her face, thinking to herself, It…was a dream? She smiled, laughing. It was a dream! It was just a dream. She stood and ran to the balcony, opening the doors and smelling the fresh air. Suddenly, a cold ( )eeze swept through her nightgown. She shivered, looking down at her garden; ice. Ice had consumed her garden, her flowers, her grass, her tree which she had named after her mother. All of it was ice.
She pulled on a short, lavender dress and a big coat. Slipping into her black boots, she ran to Amaryllis.
The red horse galloped with Wisteria perched high on her back. They eventually came to the Ice Lands and Wisteria slowed Amaryllis to make sure she didn’t slip on the ice. Hopping off the large horse, Wisteria’s boots touched the ground and she slipped, falling onto to her back. “Hahaha, rich!” a voice laughed. Thistle put her arms around Wisteria, pulling her up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” she laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. Wisteria ( )ushed herself off and stood up. “Th-Thistle…rude…” Wisteria muttered, “U-um, Thistle, I need to speak to your father. Is he here?” Wisteria turned to face Thistle. “Which one?” Thistle asked. “King Algor, please.” Wisteria replied, politely. “Nope. Official business an’ all that. He’s off in the Land of Fire schmoozing with Queen Efeir. You know how it is,” Thistle shrugged. “Alright then….where is your other father?” Wisteria asked. “He’s on official business underwater, what’s the big deal anyway? Why do you want to talk to them so much?” Thistle cocked her head to one side, looking at Wisteria. She could always tell when Wisteria was nervous. “Oh, Thistle….I’m sorry…I found ice in my garden and I thought your parents might be trying to….to take over the Land of Flowers! It was wrong of me to think that, I know they’d never do that,” Wisteria looked at her feet, sighing. “Wolfey…I mean, it’s understandable, ice is kinda their thing, but they would never do that,” she replied, pulling Wisteria close to her and wrapping her arms around her. “You worry too much…but…if you really want to know, there’s this old wise lady who lives in a cave who would probably know what’s going on,” Thistle told Wisteria. “Really?” Wisteria looked into Thistle’s eyes. “Could she really tell me what’s happening to my garden?”
“Yeah. But, uh….we sorta have to cross the Merpeople’s sea. She lives in a weird little cave on an island in the middle of nowhere,” Thistle shrugged. “So…we need a boat,” Wisteria replied, thinking. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” Thistle sighed. Wisteria ran off, taking Amaryllis to the stable in Thistle’s castle and Thistle followed her.
The little, wooden boat sailed through the water. Wisteria sat with Thistle on two small, magenta pillows. Wisteria had never been out to sea and she was very excited. Her head rested gently on Thistle’s shoulder, her black hair draping down Thistle’s side. Thistle had always loved the ocean, being part mermaid, and was always a fan of sailing. The two of them sat peacefully, telling jokes and stories. The air smelled of fish but it didn’t bother them. Wisteria rested her hand in the water, feeling it ( )ush through her fingers. And then, she felt teeth bite down on her skin. She screamed, pulling her hand out of the water. Teeth marks surrounded Wisteria’s pointer finger. “It’s ok, Wolfey, sometimes the fish get jumpy with the boats and bite. Does it hurt?” Thistle asked. “What if it’s poisonous? Worse, what if it wasn’t satisfied with that and wants to destroy the boat! No one knows we’re out here, we could be lost at sea forever!” Wisteria paced around the boat, her ( )eathing becoming stressed. “What if we never get back to land! What about Chryssy? She can’t take care of the kingdom by herself! And we’ll never fix my garden! What if the ice in my garden spreads to the rest of the Land of Flowers?” Wisteria’s black boot caught on a nail in the boat and she tripped, falling over the side of the boat and into the ocean. “Wisteria!” Thistle yelled, diving in after her.
Wisteria’s eyes opened. Thistle’s arm was wrapped tightly around Wisteria’s torso, her hair had come out of it’s ( )aid and was floating in the water. Wisteria looked around her. She was underwater but she couldn’t see much.
When Wisteria opened her eyes a second time, she was on a sandy beach, next to Thistle. She looked around her, only able to make out some large whale bones and trees. “Th-Thistle…?” she asked, coughing water. She looked at Thistle, her vision blurry, and she swore she could make out a mermaid tail. “Shh, Wisteria, shh…” Thistle whispered to Wisteria.
Thistle stood up and lifted Wisteria onto her back, carrying her. Eventually they arrived at a small cave. A petite woman with silver hair walked over to them from the back of the cave. “Hello, children,” she told them. “Come, sit.”
“We are no children,” Thistle told the woman. “I am Princess Thistle Periwinkle of the Ice Lands and this is Queen Wolfe Bane of the Land of Flowers. We come seeking your help.”
“My name is Sors. May I ask what you need?” the woman asked. Thistle looked around the little cave. It wasn’t damp or dark like a normal cave, it was more like a home. There were little seats around a wooden table. Thistle sat down and sat Wisteria next to her, Wisteria’s head resting Thistle’s shoulder. “My….friend needs help. She fell in the water.” Thistle looked down at the table. Wisteria’s health was more important than the ice in her garden. “I see.” Sors replied. She gave Thistle a small cup of tea. “This should warm her up. I sense something between you two.” Sors sat on one of the little, padded stools. “I sense a strained romantic relationship. You both care about each other but you’re keeping secrets from each other.” Thistle looked at Wisteria. Her limp body was surrounded by black hair. Her wet, purple turtleneck dress sagged a bit and Thistle could see her neck was covered in vines. Thistle’s eyes widened as she tried to touch Wisteria’s neck but, before she could, Wisteria awoke. “Th-Thistle….?” She lifted herself off of Thistle’s shoulder. Embarrassed, Thistle quickly gave Wisteria the cup of tea, saying, “Drink this.” Wisteria drank the tea, looking at Thistle. “Hello, Wisteria,” Sors greeted Wisteria. “I understand you would like to ask me something?”
“Y-yes!” Wisteria replied. “I…there’s ice in my garden and I don’t know why.”
“Oh, Wisteria…I sense great fear from you. There’s someone in your garden that you would like to forget. You planted the ice in your garden. You planted it with seeds of doubt. Only when you stop doubting yourself will your garden be free of the ice.” Sors told Wisteria. “I see…” Wisteria replied. “Well, thank you for your time. I see now….it is not a problem with my garden, it is a problem with me.” Her face was solemn but understanding. Thistle looked at Wisteria. “But…” Thistle’s voice grew angry, “That’s Croaker crut! We came all the way here just so you could tell Wisteria it’s all her fault?! That’s total crut!” Thistle stood up, walking out of the cave. “Come on, Wisteria, this old lady is crazy.” Wisteria stood and followed Thistle. Sors laughed to herself. “Yes, there’s definitely a romance between them.”
Thistle and Wisteria walked out of the cave, onto the beach. “We don’t have a boat, how are we going to get home?” Wisteria asked. Thistle looked at the whale bones stuck in the sand. “We’ll make a boat!” she replied. Thistle gripped the bones and pulled them out of the sand and Wisteria used her magic to create vines to hold the bones together. Then, Wisteria took her large coat off and used it as a sail. With this makeshift boat, the two of them sailed home. When they arrived at the Ice Lands, Thistle parents were there, worried. She ran and hugged them. Wisteria watched, remembering her mother.
“I’ll never forget you, mother. I’m sorry.”
Chapter 3 - You are My Sunshine
Wisteria stood on the stone balcony of her castle. Her garden was consumed with ice. Seeds of doubt, she thought to herself, remembering Sors’s words. Her gaze slowly trailed to the tree she had named after her mother, Someone I’d like to forget.
Wisteria had been a meek child. Thin, small, and useless. She was sickly often and couldn’t stand the cold. Her mother resented this. Queen Hydrangea was a cruel ruler. She had grown up poor and worked as hard as she could. She had met her husband, the prince, and fallen in love. They had children and started a family. They ruled the Land of Flowers with kindness and love. But the king fell ill and died. Hydrangea was convinced that her husband was murdered but she had no proof. She grew angry and resentful. She cut the Land of Flowers off from outsiders and repealed all peace treaties. Finally, convinced that the king of the East Lands had killed her husband, Hydrangea declared war on the East Lands. The war lasted years and ( )ought only more anger to Hydrangea and her family. Her oldest son, Foxgloves, became the head general of the Land of Flowers’s army. He fought valiantly but was captured and banished to the Unknown. The middle child, Wisteria, opposed the war and did not help. Hydrangea considered this an act of treason and made the decision for her daughter to be executed. Wisteria refused to change her belief and accepted the execution. But before she could be executed, Verbenas, Wisteria’s younger ( )other, stopped the execution. He spoke out against Hydrangea and challenged her to a duel. She accepted and dueled the boy. Hydrangea cheated, emptying Verbenas’s gun before the duel, and the child was killed. In retaliation for the murder, Wisteria killed Hydrangea herself and took the throne. Wisteria put an end to the war and buried her baby ( )other in her garden.
Wisteria sat in her garden, surrounded by flowers. Bellow her was the wilted remains of her ( )other, buried six feet underground. A turquoise drop fell from her eye, rolling down her cheek and onto a magenta flower. The tear rolled off the petal of the flower and onto the soil. “Wisteria?” a voice asked. Wisteria looked up to see Chrysanthemum standing in the arch of vines that led to Wisteria’s garden. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Wisteria choked, “Yes I’m fine.” She looked at Chryssy, the short girl wasn’t more than fifteen years old. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, alright?” Chryssy asked Wisteria. Shd nodded, staring at Chryssy. Chryssy gave Wisteria one last worried look and then walked toward the castle, her auburn locks bouncing on her shoulders.
Anthos’s death had been hard for Wisteria. It was long after her coronation as queen. She loved Anthos and often longed for his touch again, his warm hands stroking through her black hair. It wasn’t long after he had died when she discovered that she was pregnant. She hadn’t the faintest idea of how to be a parent but she imagined it couldn’t be much harder than being an older sibling. She decided she would need to find her eldest ( )other, Foxgloves. Fox, as they called him, was a stoic young man and intelligent strategist. He was a kind older ( )other to Wisteria and Verbenas and he was father to a young girl in the Land of Fire. Wisteria decided that if she could ( )ing Fox back, he would teach her how to be a good mother.
Wisteria mounted her house, Amaryllis, and rode to the Ice Lands to find the Scepter of the Ice Queen, a powerful tident for mages. A tident was an item that tied a mage to an element. There were six tidents for Wisteria to find; the Scepter of the Ice Queen representing the element of ice, the Cloak of the Hellhound representing the element of fire, the Angel’s Wing representing the element of air, the Dragonfly Rose representing the element of Earth, the Pearl of Merfolk representing the element of water, and the Great Abyss representing the element of darkness.
The Scepter of the Ice Queen was not hard to find. The kings of the Ice Lands let Wisteria borrow it with a warning. King Algor told Wisteria the story of Lěng de Rén, a man who once tried to use the Scepter to take over the world and was punished by the gods. “I apologize if I seem ( )ash but I don’t believe in such myths, sire,” Wisteria chuckled. But King Algor’s face was stern. “The story of Lěng de Rén is no myth, Wisteria. Make sure your intent is honest and good or the gods will strike you down.” Algor warned Wisteria. “Thank you for your warning, King Algor, but I assure you I am of honest intent. I will take good care of the tident. Thank you.” Wisteria replied. Algor sighed, “I fear you may not be honest to yourself.”
The Cloak of the Hellhound proved even easier to obtain. The Hellhound was a great beast said to live in the volcano in the center of the Land of Fire. But the beast was long since dead and rotting in the ground. Wisteria only had to find a way to enter the volcano without being charred to a crisp. Wisteria simply used the Scepter of the Ice Queen to cast an ice spell, freezing a path into the volcano.
The Dragonfly Rose was the easiest of all, a rose in a glass container that Wisteria kept at the very top of her castle. She put the glass container in her pack so it would keep the Rose safe.
With the crimson Cloak wrapped tightly around her, the Scepter in hand, and the Rose in her pack, she mounted Amaryllis and rode to the East Lands.
The Angel’s Wing was a golden ( )acelet sitting on the top of the tallest mountain in the East Lands. Wisteria was a small woman with thin shoulders and not very much muscle mass, if any at all. Climbing the mountain took everything she had and her determination waned as she reached the top. The other tidents had been so easy to obtain, she was unprepared for this test of endurance.
Finally, exhausted and starving, Wisteria reached the top of the mountain to find the Angel’s Wing. She held the golden ( )acelet and slipped it onto her wrist. She could feel the magic in the tidents. She gazed down the mountain toward Amaryllis.
The Scepter of the Ice Queen required her charisma and kindness, the Cloak of the Hellhound required her intelligence, the Dragonfly Rose required her responsibility, and the Angel’s Wing required her physical endurance, all the things she needed to be a good mother.
“Maybe I can handle this on my own,” Wisteria said to herself, gazing at the golden ( )acelet. She smiled. “What would Fox say? ‘Wisteria, you’re underestimating yourself again.’” She took a deep ( )eath and, with the combined powers of the tidents, cast a spell of flight, lifting herself from the mountaintop and landing on Amaryllis.
It had been fifteen years since Wisteria’s daughter was born but she still struggled with telling the child who she really was. Wisteria told her daughter that they were sisters in an attempt to ease her fears. She felt that if her daughter thought they were sisters, she would blame Wisteria less for making mistakes.
But it was too late to tell Chrysanthemum now anyway. If she did, the girl would be furious to be lied to for so long.
Chryssy returned with a glass of water and handed it to Wisteria. She sat beside Wisteria, leaning her head against Wisteria’s shoulder. “I love you, sister,” Chryssy told Wisteria. “I love you, too, Chrysanthemum,” Wisteria replied.
Chapter 3 1/2 - Love is Like Ginger( )ead, Hard on the Outside and Soft on the Inside
Wisteria danced along the pond, her feet barely touching the water. This was a very hard combination of a flight spell and water spell that she had been working on for a long time. The slightest ( )each of concentration would ( )eak the spell. Thistle watched from the bushes. She had only been eighteen years old then. Her icy blue eyes followed the twists of Wisteria’s gazelle-like ankles. A beetle climbed up Thistle’s arm and she tried to shake it off. Losing her balance, she fell into the bush in front of her and yelped. Wisteria gasped and fell into the water. “Help!” she screamed. Thistle wiped dirt off of her face and ran to the pond, jumping into the water. She pulled Wisteria to shore and tried to find a pulse. “Please don’t die…” the princess muttered under her ( )eath. She had never been this close to Wisteria Wolfe Bane, the queen of the Land of Flowers, and her hands were shaking. Wisteria coughed and gasped for air. “W-who…” she sputtered. “Who are you?”
“M-my name…” Thistle mumbled. “I…um…” Thistle looked at Wisteria and then stood up and ran.
Thistle’s feet pounded on the cold dirt, they couldn’t take her away fast enough. She had admired Queen Wisteria for some time but had never actually met her. Thistle was not partial to balls and did not usually attend them with her parents so Wisteria had never actually seen her, to the best of her knowledge. Thistle had admired Wisteria from her silky, ebony hair to her pale, porcelain skin to her delicate hands and fingers. Thistle had admired Wisteria for so long that she didn’t know if she was good enough for the queen. She suddenly realized that she had crossed the border between the Land of Flowers and the Ice Lands. Realizing how fast she was running, Thistle tripped on the ice and slid to the feet of her father, King Algor. King Algor’s icy blue eyes bore holes through Thistle. “And where have you been?” he asked. “U-um…” Thistle stammered. “I was just…” Thistle stood up and ( )ushed herself off. “I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want and be out as late as I want!”
“You are by no means an adult! As long as you live under my roof, you follow my rules,” Algor told Thistle. “Lighten up, love. She’s still young and needs to test the limits,” Aecor laughed, hugging Algor’s arm. “Ae-“
“Love, she’s young. Let her have her fun! Don’t you remember being her age?” Aecor smiled at his husband. “Uugh…I guess you’re right.” Algor groaned. “Aren’t I always?” Aecor kissed Algor’s cheek. Thistle smiled at Aecor. “Thanks, dad.”
Thistle sat in her room, painting a small, white bird on a ( )anch. She painted this bird often. It was nearly the only thing she painted. Her father, Aecor, always said that the bird represented loneliness. She heard the the door open downstairs and quietly crept down to see what was going on. She hid, hearing her father at the door. “Hello, Wisteria,” King Algor said. “Hello, sire,” followed Queen Wisteria’s voice. Thistle’s eyes widened and she peeked around the wall. “I was wondering if you…” Wisteria’s voice trailed off as her eyes met Thistle’s. Thistle ducked behind the wall. “What?” Algor asked, looking behind him. He looked back at Wisteria, quizzically. “I was wondering if you could give me that great ginger( )ead recipe from whenyou( )oughtthatginger( )eadtothatballanditwassogreateveryoneloveditsomuchIwashopingtomakeitagain can I come in?” Wisteria rambled. “Uuuuuuuuuh…yeah,” Algor replied, processing Wisteria’s ramble. Wisteria ducked under Algor’s arm, which was still holding the door open, and walked inside. Aecor walked over to Wisteria. “Wisteria!” Aecor exclaimed. “Aecor! How’s that leg spell working for you?” Wisteria asked. Aecor looked down at his scaly legs. “Great!” he chuckled. “I’m excited to finally be able walk on land!” Wisteria smiled at Aecor. “I’m so glad that’s wor-“ Again, her eyes met Thistle, who was trying to hide under the kitchen table. Aecor followed Wisteria’s gaze. “Thistle!” he smiled. “Come meet Wisteria Wolfe Bane!” Thistle stood up and walked over to her father. “Wisteria! This is my daughter, Thistle Periwinkle Glacies!” Aecor got down on one knee and presented Thistle as if she was a new horse. “Thistle, this is Queen Wisteria Wolfe Bane of the Land of Flowers!”
Wisteria put her hand out to Thistle and Thistle took it. “Uuh…I’m Thistle,” Thistle told Wisteria. “I’m Wisteria,” Wisteria replied, her voice smooth as chocolate milk.
Thistle remembered the day she met Wisteria. It was one of the best days of her life. “Do you remember when we met, Wisteria?” she asked Wisteria. Thistle and Wisteria were sitting by the fireplace, wrapped in a velvet blanket. “Of course I do,” Wisteria replied, her black hair resting on Thistle’s shoulder. “Yeah. I was so nervous…”
“You shouldn’t have been. You saved my life,” Wisteria told Thistle. “I know…you really need to learn how to swim!” Thistle replied. Wisteria laughed. “I suppose I do, don’t I?”
“But…Wisteria…” Thistle looked away, light from the fire danced on her face. “Thistle?” Wisteria asked. “I’m not…” Thistle started. “You aren’t what?” Wisteria asked. Her fingers gently turned Thistle’s head so her eyes met Wisteria’s. “Wisteria…I love you.”
“Please marry me.”
Chapter 4 - the Gift of a Child is a Gift of Unconditional Love
Melisande’s black shoes clicked on the marble floor of her palace sitting atop a mountain. The citizens of the East Lands crowded around her balcony, cheering. The East Lands’ religion, End, was a dark one. The tale of End was of death, apocalypse, sadness, and anger. All shall die except those loyal to the queen or king. The weak shall perish. Every year, the queen or king was to execute a citizen as a sacrifice.
Melisande’s mother had been queen for a long time. She was a poor maiden girl from the Land of Flowers named Tristesse. She was an orphan and had no where to go. A young man, the king of the East Lands, had approached her and the two fell in love. She became his queen, a hated queen among the people of the East Lands. They were angered by the idea of a pheasant as their queen. Tristesse ruled with kindness and love but her husband hated his position. He, as king, had to execute a citizen every year and he hated it. He fell into a deep depression and left the East Lands in pursuit of the Unknown. Tristesse was heart( )oken that her love had left and she fell greatly ill. She eventually died and her only daughter, 18-year-old Melisande, was left to take the thrown.
Melisande did not like sacrificing the citizens every year but it was her duty. She viewed it as a means to an end. She would sacrifice the citizens as a means of obtaining her kingdom’s respect.
Meanwhile, the ground rumbled around the entrance to the Unknown. A young man stepped out of the woods, planting his staff in the ground. “Death to the East Lands!” he roared, his sharp, red eyes piercing the sky.
His black boots stomped through the Land of Flowers, the silver chains clinking loudly. Wisteria Wolfe Bane stepped out of her castle, tears graced her cheeks at the sight of her long lost ( )other. “Foxglove,” she chirped meekly. A smile grew across her face and she ran to her ( )other. “Foxglove, you’re back!” Wisteria jumped into Foxglove’s arms. “Sister!” Foxglove lifted her up, hugging her, and then set her down, solemnly. “Wisteria…you…you look much older than when I left,” Foxglove told Wisteria, “The war. Did we win? Where is mother? And Verbenas?” Wisteria’s face grew solemn. Her hands shook, “Verbenas…”
“Wisteria?” Foxglove asked, “Wisteria, where are they?!”
<( ) /> “Where are they?” Melisande asked the guards. She stood on the stage, the crowd surrounding her. “Where is the sacrifice?” The guards pushed a small skeleton forward. The skeleton child had short, wavy, black hair and big, innocent, black eyes. They looked up at Melisande, hope danced in their eye. They couldn’t have been much older than 4 or 5 years. A little red rose was tucked behind their ear, peaking out of their black hair. “What’s their name?” Melisande asked. “Rasa,” one of the guards replied, “Rasa Verloren.”
The guards held Rasa still on a large slab of wood. Melisande held in her hands the Axe of the End. The solemn axe was made of cold obsidian and inlaid with ivory and gold pearls, fading out from the handle to the blade. It was said that this axe was created by the God of the End and only royal blood could wield, thus Melisande’s mother was never to touch the great weapon. It was said to be the sharpest blade in the kingdom, and some believed it to be a tident. The blade was stained with the blood of the weak and worthless, all those who had been sacrificed before. All those who were deemed not worthy of life.
Rasa was deemed not worthy of life because of their limp. They couldn’t run and could barely walk, they simply limped. They had been injured greatly as an infant and never recovered fully. On top of that, they were also mute and too small to do any sort of manual labor. For this, they were deemed worthless and they were to be this year’s sacrifice.
Melisande held the axe high above her, staring into the petrified eyes of the helpless child. She closed her eyes as hard as she could and ( )ought the axe down on their back. Blood burst from the wound, rushing down their back. They cried and struggled helplessly. Melisande thought of all the previous sacrifices, some old, many mute like Rasa, and all deemed useless. All deemed not worthy of life. Melisande hadn’t the faintest idea of who picked the sacrifices but she didn’t question it once it had been done. But never before had there been a child. She had never been asked to kill an innocent child. She threw her axe down and picked up the child, dashing away from the crowd of townsfolk.
“Please, ( )other, please be reasonable!” Wisteria begged Foxglove, “We cannot simply wage war! It’s taken so long for me to ( )ing such peace to the kingdoms!”
“No!” Foxglove replied, “No, no, no, no! They can’t be dead, they can’t be all dead! It’s impossible, it’s ridiculous, it’s, it’s- ugh…this all started with the East Lands!”
“Stop, Foxglove!”
<( ) /> Foxglove took the stage in the center of the East Lands, his long, red jacket tails trailing behind him. The townsfolk were still gathered around the stage, dumbfounded at the queen’s actions. “You!” Foxglove yelled, “All of you are sinful! You shall all pay by the hand of King Foxglove Wolfe Bane of the Land of Flowers! Death to the East Lands!” He held his staff in the air, red magic emanating from it. “No!” Wisteria screamed, slamming her hands together. A cloud of blue magic covered the land. “Stop…”
All the townsfolk who had gathered around the stage had stopped as if time itself had been paused. Wisteria’s hands shook. “Wisteria…I didn’t know you could perform blue magic…that’s quite prestigious…I-”
“STOP IT!” Wisteria yelled at Foxglove, “Just stop…we can’t wage war on the East Lands! It’s taken me so long to get peace in the kingdoms, I refuse to give that up to your whims.”
“Wisteria…” Foxglove looked at Wisteria, sighing. “Foxglove! You aren’t king! I am! This is my kingdom now!” Wisteria told Foxglove. “I…I understand,” Foxglove replied, surprised by Wisteria’s independence. “I’m sorry…”
“Wisteria!” Melisande yelled, running back to the stage. She still held Rasa in her arms, only now they had stopped moving and their back was bandaged. “What happened? I felt a big explosion of magic…is everything alright? Why isn’t anyone moving?”
“Wisteria?”
“Alright, are we all clear now?” Wisteria asked. “Yes,” Melisande replied, “But can I just ask what that spell was?”
“It was just some Blue Magic I’ve been working on…it’s still not strong enough to freeze royal blood but I did my best,” Wisteria replied.
Wisteria, Foxglove, and Melisande sat on three black chairs in Melisande’s castle. Rasa was resting in a small, wooden, bed next to the chairs. “So, that’s what we’re doing here but um…Melisande….the child?” Wisteria asked. “I…just…I have a child now,” Melisande replied, “So shut up.”
“You always were an annoying child,” Foxglove sighed. “Foxglove, what was that? Why do you want to declare war so badly?” Wisteria asked Foxglove. He looked at her. “Well…I guess…I don’t know. It’s so hard to imagine mother…doing what she did to Verbenas. And then you, Wisteria…I just can’t…imagine….” Foxglove looked at the floor. A once happy family, now torn apart. “It’s not fair…”
“Nothing is fair…” Melisande replied. Wisteria sighed and looked at Rasa. “No. Things are fair. Horrible things have to happen to lead to good things,” Wisteria told Melisande. “If the love of my life hadn't died…I wouldn’t be with my fiancé right now.”
“What?! F-fiancé??” Foxglove asked. “Yeah…and I could’ve been roped into a marriage of convenience with a man who doesn’t love me,” Melisande chuckled slightly. “W-whaaaaat?” Foxglove repeated.
“Are you really…going to adopt that child?” Wisteria asked Melisande. “Yes. It’s the least I could do after I…uh…almost executed them…” Melisande smiled at Rasa, “I think a part of me needs this…”
“A part of me needs them…”
Chapter 5 - Children Are Wise as the Lines on a Tree
Melisande’s hand ( )ushed Rasa’s curly, black hair out of their face.
“Au clair de la lune
Mon ami Pierrot
Prête-moi ta plume
Pour écrire un mot,” Melisande sang. Her voice was like a dying dove’s last ( )eath, sweet and sad.
“Ma chandelle est morte
Je n'ai plus de feu
Ouvre-moi ta porte
Pour l'amour de Dieu.” Rasa’s sad, black eyes opened and they gazed up at Melisande. Her long, blue hair was resting gently on the black blanket that covered Rasa from the neck down. They looked at her with fear in their eyes. “Don’t be scared, mon enfant, I won’t hurt you. I’m so sorry for what I did to you…” She ( )ushed her hand against Rasa’s cheekbone. “The doctor says you weren’t too badly hurt. I’m glad. I went to the orphanage where you’ve lived for so long. I can’t leave you there, you’re still a baby, Rasa. You deserve a family.” Rasa smiled at Melisande and she smiled back. “Will you be my Petit Prince?” Melisande asked Rasa, cupping their tiny hand in hers. They retracted their hand, putting it back under the blanket. Melisande sighed, “Alright…if you change your mind, j-just…just tell me, alright? You’re free to stay here if you like…or you can go back to the orphanage. I guess.” The disappoint was obvious in her voice. She didn’t want Rasa to be scared of her but could she blame them after what she did? After what she did to them, she wanted them to have the option to leave. “Um…Maid Adelise will ( )ing you food. If you need anything just tell her, o-or you can get me,” Melisande told Rasa, smiling at them. She could still see the fear in their eyes. She walked out of the room, feeling tears well in her eyes.
Melisande stood on the balcony, holding the axe. The axe that she hurt Rasa with, that she planted in their tender back. She imagined all the people who’s lives had been taken by that axe. She imagined all the families split up, all the parents who died. Her hands shook as the blade slowly slit her finger, a single drop of crimson red blood dripped down. She wasn’t worth any more than those that the axe had killed. She wasn’t worth any more than the bugs she crushed when she walked. She wasn’t worth any more than a sprig of lavender. All her guilt, all her sins washed over her. Suddenly, she heard quiet ( )eathing. She turned around to see Rasa on their knees watching her. Melisande dropped the axe and fell to her knees in front of Rasa. “I’m so sorry you had to see that,” Melisande told Rasa. Rasa wrapped their tiny arms around Melisande’s torso. Melisande kissed Rasa’s head. “I’m sorry…I’ve hurt so many people but hurting myself is wrong, too.”
Wisteria looked at herself in the mirror. She wore a long, lavender dress adorned with purple flowers. An eager tailor stood beside her. “No, this is wrong,” Wisteria told the tailor. “Wrong dress? Too many flowers?” the tailor asked. “No, no…this, this is all wrong!” She ( )ushed away a tear. “What’s wrong, Wisteria? There are other dresses, it’s really not that big a deal!” Efeir told Wisteria. “No, no, no this is wrong, this is all wrong, I can’t get married, I can’t!” Wisteria cried, dashing away. “W-wait, Wisteria!”
Wisteria ran to her garden, kneeling at the tree she had named after her mother. “I can’t marry Thistle, I can’t…” She lay on the roots of the tree. Small vines enveloped her cheeks.
“Stay here…” the tree whispered, “Stay with mother.”
“Okay, mother…” Wisteria whispered back. Roots grew from the tree, wrapping around Wisteria’s waist and shoulders. Her body grew heavy and she slowly let go. She slowly let go of control. Her ( )eath stifled.
Melisande sat on her bed, holding Rasa in her arms. She pulled the blanket over them. “I really am sorry for everything. I’ve never been a mother before…but I guess you’ve never had a mother so, this is new for both of us?” Rasa smiled at Melisande, tightening their hug. It had been so long since she had felt unconditional love that she had forgotten what it felt like.
There was a loud knocking noise and one of Melisande’s guards, Zephyr, opened the door. He then came and bowed to Melisande. “My lady, he has come,” Zephyr told Melisande. “Who has come?” she asked. Zephyr sighed and replied, “Him,” with an annoyed growl.
A young man with vi( )ant blue hair and a smirk on his face approached Melisande and Rasa. “Is that…a child? Oh dear, Melisande, have you gone soft on me?” Melisande looked at the man, annoyed. “Screw off, Akuma.”
“Ooh, touchy,” Akuma scoffed. “Listen, something’s going on with Wisteria. Things just keep getting worse. Vines and roots are taking over everything. We need to do something about it!”
“Where’s Thistle? Can’t she talk to Wisteria?” Melisande asked. “Well, no one can find Wisteria. The last time she was seen, she was freaking out at Efeir,” Akuma replied. Melisande sighed.
Using the Axe of the End to chop through the ever-growing roots and vines, Melisande and Akuma came to Thistle and Efeir in Wisteria’s castle. “Where could it be?”
“What is it?” Akuma asked. “Wisteria’s garden,” Thistle replied, “We’re trying to find it but it’s hidden. I know she uses a protection spell on it but I don’t know what protection spell.”
“The book I found in her room is open to a blood seal spell? That spell would make it so no one could enter the garden other than her or someone who’s blood related to her,” Efeir said. “Where’s Chrysanthemum?” Melisande asked. “We don’t know, no one can find her either…” Efeir replied.
The four scattered to try to find Chrysanthemum. Melisande went up to Wisteria’s room. Nothing but a wooden wardrobe, a bed, and a small table with a mirror. She went to the window, looking out into the fields of the Land of Flowers. Roots enveloped the land. “Where are you, Wisteria…” she sighed. Thistle walked into the room, asking, “Melisande?” Melisande turned around, quickly. “Oh, hey, Thistle…” She sighed again, leaning against the window. Suddenly the window turned into a door. “W-what?!” Thistle gasped. Melisande opened the door that led to a balcony. Next to the balcony was a ladder that led down into Wisteria’s garden. There was a large tree in the center of the garden. Vines had grown around the tree, pinning Wisteria’s lifeless body to the trunk. “Wisteria!” Thistle yelled, running to the tree. She desperately tried to rip the vines off to no avail. “Please…”
Melisande took the Axe of the End out of her bag. She lifted it above her head and swung it at the tree, chopping it down. The vines retracted and Wisteria awoke. “W-what? Where am I?” she asked. “Wisteria!” Thistle hugged her fiancé. “H-how did you get in?” Wisteria asked, timidly, “There’s a blood seal…only blood relatives of mine can come into my garden.”
“Melisande ( )oke it!” Thistle replied. “W-what…?” Wisteria asked, looking at Melisande. “How did you…?”
“I don’t know.”
Chapter 5 1/2 - Loneliness Is Subjective/Akuma’s Quest
The baby reached out his tiny hand. His vi( )ant blue hair sparkled in the sun. He opened one tiny, grey eye to look around. And then he opened the other eye. This one was blue. The baby was in a small room. There were many other children laughing and playing. One of the children walked over to the baby. He blinked one eye and then the other. “What a freak!” the other child yelled. “Gross!”
He was thirteen years old when he was finally adopted. On the basket was a name, “Akuma,” it apparently meant demon. And he always believed that he was a demon. That was why his eyes didn’t blink at the same time.
Everyone said Akuma was lucky. He had been adopted, despite being an undesirable age. And he wasn’t just adopted by anyone, he had been adopted by the king. King Algor of the Ice Lands. Algor was kind and he had a daughter who was three years younger than Akuma. But he still didn’t fit in.
“Akuma!” The pitter-patter of tiny feet notified Akuma of Thistle Periwinkle, his new little sister. “Akuma, open uuuuup!” Thistle whined, knocking on the door to Akuma’s room. “Thistle…” Akuma sighed, “I’m busy.”
“No you’re not! Let me in, Akuma!” Thistle replied. Akuma stared at his shaking hands. “No, Thistle. Go away.” Thistle sighed, “Ok, Akuma…” She walked away. Akuma tried to steady his ( )eath. “It’s ok…” he told himself, “It’s ok…” He stood and stared at the ice he had created. An huge icicle sticking out of the ceiling. The more he looked at it, the more panicked he became. Tears dripped from his eyes and froze as they fell down his tender cheeks. There was a knock on the door and he jumped. “Akuma, dinner is ready.” It was a man’s voice. Stern but loving. “Are you alright in there?” Akuma choked on his spit, coughing. “Akuma?!” He opened the door, wiping tears away from his eyes. “Akuma, what’s wrong?” King Algor asked. Akuma tried to force out words but he came up blank. Algor looked at the icicle, then at Akuma.
They ( )ought in a doctor to look at Akuma, but no matter what doctor they talked to none of them knew what Akuma was. They couldn’t explain why his eyes blinked asymmetrically and they couldn’t explain why he had the powers that he did. Things only got stranger when he was fighting with Thistle on the balcony one day.
“You are such a freak!” Thistle yelled at Akuma. “Like you’re one to talk,” he replied. They couldn’t even remember what they had been fighting about but now that they had started, neither of them wanted to be the one to stop and apologize. “I wish you would just leave me alone!” Akuma yelled. “No, you leave me alone!” Thistle pushed Akuma and he fell off the balcony. “N-no, Akuma!” His body fell limp and, feet from his icy death on the rocks in the water below, wings sprouted from his back. His body rose into the sky, the white, feathered wings carrying him like an angel.
Thiríofygí, a demon with two differently-colored eyes. In the extensive li( )ary of Queen Wolfe Bane, Akuma had found a book on these creatures. There were four kinds; ice Thiríofygí, usually with wings of water, fire Thiríofygí, usually with black, feathered wings, earth Thiríofygí, usually with wings of vine and flowers, and sky Thiríofygí, usually with white, feathered wings. Thiríofygí also often had peculiar markings or objects seemingly sewn into their skin. Akuma fingered the pearl in his ear. He didn’t know how to feel about this.
King Algor opened the door to Akuma’s room. “Akuma? Are you alright?” he asked, walking over to Akuma’s bed. Akuma had been reading about Thiríofygí. “What are you reading?”
“Nothing,” Akuma replied. “It doesn’t really look like nothing,” Algor said, “Is everything ok?”
“Yeah,” Akuma mumbled, looking away from Algor. “Akuma…” Algor sat on Akuma’s bed, “Please talk to me.” Akuma turned the book around, showing Algor the page about the Thiríofygí. Algor took the book, looking more closely. “I…” Algor muttered. He sighed. “I don’t think you should be reading this anymore.” Algor took the book and shoved it under his big fur coat. “What?!” Akuma yelled, “No, that’s mine!”
“I’m sorry but, as your father, I can’t let you read this,” Algor told Akuma. “No!” Akuma tried to punch Algor but his hand froze. “I’m sorry, Akuma, but please try to understand! There are some things you are just too young to read about!” Algor’s large hand cupped Akuma’s, which had turned to ice. “I’m sorry.”
Algor took the book. Akuma looked in Queen Wolfe Bane’s li( )ary but couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find it anywhere. As all of his anger and sadness stewed inside of him, his powers became more and more uncontrollable.
“Akuma?” Thistle asked, knocking on Akuma’s door. “Akuma! Let me in!”
“No!” Akuma yelled from inside his room. His hands shook as his body froze to the floor. “Akuma, are you alright?” Algor asked. “Go away!” Akuma yelled as the ice crawled up his fragile, beige skin until it reached his shocking blue hair. The door burst open and Algor ran in, Thistle close behind him. “Akuma?” Algor asked, carefully touching the ice sculpture that once was a sixteen-year-old boy. He fell to his knees, tears running down his cheeks. “Akuma…”
Akuma was frozen for three years, Algor sat next to his bed every day, waiting for him to unfreeze. He was different when he unfroze, he didn’t want to learn about what he was anymore. He was ashamed of it. He was ashamed of his life, his existence. He became a perfect student, he never talked back, and he always played with Thistle when she wanted. He had lost his rebellious spirit that made him who he was. He had lost his personality. He became the captain of the Ice Lands’ Royal Guard. He didn’t think about the Thiríofygí again until he was twenty-six years old.
A tall man with black hair and piercing red eyes approached Akuma. Next to the man stood a young girl with soft, ( )own hair who Akuma recognized as Princess Chrysanthemum of the Land of Flowers. “Hello, Demon,” said the man, “We hear you would like to learn about the Thiríofygí, and we think we can help you.”
“The Thiríofygí live on the other side of the world. To get to them, you must pass through the Unknown,” Chrysanthemum told Akuma, “And that’s exactly where we’re going. Are you ready?”
“For Akuma’s Quest?”
Chapter 6 - Struggling Love
“You’re what?!” Wisteria asked. “I’m going on a journey with Akuma and Foxglove. We’re going into the Unknown,” Chrysanthemum replied. “Why?!” Wisteria asked. “Foxglove wants to find the King of the East Lands. Akuma is trying to find the rest of his species.”
“But why are you going?” Wisteria asked. “I dunno. I guess I just feel a sort of calling. Like it’s calling out to me, ya know? I ne-“
“No,” Wisteria replied, “No, I forbid you from doing this.”
“What?!” Chryssy asked, “You can’t do that!”
“Yes I can,” Wisteria replied, “And I am. You’re only fifteen years old and I refuse to let you go prancing around alone in the Unknown. You wouldn’t last three minutes. No.” Chryssy groaned, “Oh my god! You think I’m five! I’m fifteen, I can take care of myself! Not to mention Akuma and Foxglove will be there!”
The long hallway glistened in the cold sunlight of morning. “Fine then.” Wisteria stood at the end of it, her face stern but loving. “Kill me,” she said, “And prove to me that you are strong.” Chrysanthemum stood at the other end of the hallway. “If it’s a fight you want then it’s a fight you shall have.”
Wisteria raised her hand swiftly and vines grew from the floor, cutting through Chryssy. Chrysanthemum retaliated with a venus flytrap which snapped at Wisteria but she jumped out of the way, dodging the attack entirely. “Is that all you have?” she asked, her black hair trailing behind her. She swung her arm and giant seeds flew at Chryssy. She was hit badly in the arm, blood pouring from the wound. Chryssy slammed her hands together and vines came out of the walls on either side of Wisteria but, with two swift slashes of her sword, both vines dropped to the floor. Where did that sword come from? Chryssy thought to herself.
“You aren’t using your full power,” she growled, “Try to kill me.” She threw her arm up and vines cut through Chryssy relentlessly. “Kill me,” she urged, “Kill me.” Chryssy drew her own sword, running towards Wisteria and slashing but Wisteria dodged. “Kill me.” Every time Chryssy came at her with the sword, Wisteria jumped out of the way. “Kill me.”
“Fine!” Chryssy screamed, “If you want to die that badly!” Chryssy motioned with her arm and vines shot from every direction, all of them converging on Wisteria’s body, gouging her tender stomach. The vines retracted and her limp body lay on the floor, bloody and dead. Chryssy cradled her sister’s body in her arms. “I’m sorry Wisteria…I’m so sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry,” Wisteria replied, “You’ve proved yourself to me. Now I won’t have to worry about you on your great quest. Take my sword with you and take a long overdue piece of information…Chryssy, I am your mother. And I love you.” With that, Wisteria disappeared. Chryssy sat, looking at the blood on her hands. My mother? she thought. She clenched her fist. M-mother…
Thistle Periwinkle was pacing the halls of her parents’ palace waiting for Wisteria. They had agreed to meet there to talk about the wedding. Suddenly, Wisteria’s limp body appeared and she collapsed in Thistle’s arms. Her body was filled with wounds and covered in blood. “Wisteria!” Thistle exclaimed, “What happened?” She hugged Wisteria. “N-nothing….” Wisteria replied, steadying herself, “I’m fine.” She stumbled to the wall and rested her back against it. Her wounds slowly healed one by one. “I can take many more hits than this…but it’s still very painful…”
“Who did this?! I’ll kill-” Thistle yelled. “Like I said, I’m fine,” Wisteria replied, “Calm down.” She hugged Thistle, sighing. “Today…I finally let my baby go…”
“What do you mean?” Thistle asked. “Chryssy’s growing up. I have to accept that,” Wisteria replied. Thistle hugged Wisteria. “It’s always hard to accept your loved ones growing up…not that I would know,” Thistle chuckled. “So, have you taken care of the wedding date?” Wisteria asked Thistle. “I have,” Thistle replied, happily, “In fact, the only thing left to do is send the invitations! I’ll leave that to you, love. I never have had a way with words like you do.” Wisteria giggled, “That’s not true! You’ve al- uunh…” Suddenly, Wisteria fell limp, her head hitting Thistle’s chest. Thistle pulled her up, holding her in a standing position. “Wisteria! What’s wrong? Wisteria?!”
“I’m alright…” Wisteria reassured Thistle, weakly. She leaned on Thistle, standing shakily. “I just…need to lie down…”
Chryssy approached Akuma and Foxglove. “My mo-….Wisteria said I could go. I’ve packed my things and we’ll leave as soon as possible,” she told them. “You actually asked her?” Akuma asked, “My parents would never let me go if I was your age.”
“It…took some convincing…” Chryssy replied, with a heavy heart, “But she gave me this.” Chrysanthemum unsheathed the sword Wisteria had given her. The long, iron blade sat on a gold-plated handle with a single red jewel in the middle. Foxglove stared the sword, quietly. “Wow! What a stunning sword…” Akuma gasped. “Foxglove…did you…” Chryssy shook her head, “No, never mind. Anyway, we should start our journey, shouldn’t we?”
“Yes, er….about that…” said a voice from the shadows.
Melisande gazed at the sunset as it’s soft light slowly left her kingdom cold, dark, and alone. She loved the sunrise, watching it every day at morning ever since she was little, but the sunset always felt to her like an ending instead of a beginning. It was this time of day when she often pondered her ending. After all, the skeleton queen never dies. Rasa limped onto the balcony and grasped Melisande’s dress. She looked down at the child and smiled, picking them up and holding them. “Oh, Rasa…I love you.” They rested their head on her shoulder. “I’m a monster and you are my redemption.” Their little hand clutched her gingerly. She turned around and walked back into the palace, her long, ebony dress trailing behind her. “Douce enfant mon amour. Bonne nuit,” Melisande kissed Rasa on the head, laying them in their small bed.
“I love you.”
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