Myosotis

Myosotis : Prologue

MYOSOTIS

Prologue

          “… but it didn’t matter because she knew that even though they were separated here, her Essence would be preserved and live on in the Flora. And they would be united again.”

          Acacia, the Low-Lily, hadn’t listened to one word her maid Endine had spoken. She already knew that story anyway.

          Everyone knew this. When you died, everything you were, everything that made you, you—your Essence—was transferred into the Flora, in the living vegetation, growing with it in perfect harmony. Or at least that’s what the Heliotropes, the priests of the Flora Temples and the Orchids, the group of eldest consultants to the High-Lily, the ruler of the city, believed and told everyone to believe. That was why the gigantic Tree in the middle of the city, protected behind the sacred walls of the Lily Castle, called Myosotis, was so important. It was in their belief, the very cord of the Flora, that no one could put an age to. The Myosotis existed before the humans, and would exist after them.  

          But this was all irrelevant to the young Acacia.

          She simply kept looking towards the garden where her mother was happily walking, while she sat there, on the edge of her window, a white rose in her hands, that she twisted and turned between her fingers. Her light nightgown wasn’t protecting her from the early Winds that had cooled the air lately, but she still wouldn’t take the thick vest Endine had offered. She was stubborn that way.

          The way a Low-Lily would be of course. One day she would rule over Iris, and would be the High-Lily, replacing her parents.

          But to do that she had to find companionship. She had to Ipomoea; be forever attached in sacred bounds, carving her name and the name of the chosen man into the Myosotis making them one.

          The boy, her Future, had already been chosen by her parents. Of course he had. Acacia was only ten White Seasons. She was too young to make such important decisions. Too young to make any decisions actually.

          Or at least that’s what everyone was trying to make her believe.

          Nasturtium.

          He was the one her parents had chosen. The Low-Lily from Clematis. Clematis was the second most important city. Iris was the first one because the Myosotis was in it. Clematis was the second because it was the center to all the technological progress.

          An Ipomoea between the Low-Lilies of Iris and Clematis was the perfect way to unite everyone and bring back balance. Because balance was at stake these days.

          But the young Acacia wasn’t supposed to know that.

          At least that’s what everyone believed.

          But Acacia knew. There were fights among the Orchids. The younger generation doubted the belief of the eldest. And with all the technological progress such as bringing light from other means than fire, lessening the physical work, that Clematis was providing, how could one believe that there was a force more powerful in the trees than the one the people from Clematis were offering.

          Acacia didn’t know what to think. And she truthfully didn’t care right now. Because what bothered her that night was the fact that the next day she would meet Nasturtium for the first time. She would meet the boy chosen for her.

          And she was scared.

          “Acacia, please for the love of the Flora, move away form the window and put your vest on! Otherwise you will be sick tomorrow and in no condition to meet His Low-Lily Nasturtium,” Endine begged but Acacia opened the window wider.

          She could see her mother, her sweet mother with her long blond braids that she had inherited, talking with the gardener. Acacia kept twisting the white rose. It was the son of the gardener that had given it to her. She had specifically asked him to find her the whitest rose of all, so she could give to her Future tomorrow.

          Now all she felt like was stomping on it.

          “Acacia,” Endine scowled.

          The young girl sighed, not bothering with her maid’s concerns “Is it true what people say? That Nasturtium still wets his bed?”

          Her maid made a little gasping sound, covering her mouth with one hand and her heart with the other. The gesture was quite humorous even though the lady did it quite often. “Where did you hear that?”

          Acacia ignored the question and smelled the flower. “Is it true?”

          Endine clicked her tongue at the young girl and said in a reprimanding voice, “You really should not listen to the kitchen gossips.”

          A small smile spread on the Low-Lily’s lips. She loved the kitchen not only because she always got warm cinnamon buns every time she went but also because the servants there talked so freely with her.

          “I’ll take this into consideration. And I will step away from the window the minute the sun as set,” Acacia whispered, smelling the flower in her fingers again.

          She still hadn’t looked in the maid’s way since the conversation had started. The young girl’s thoughts were miles away.

          The maid sight loudly though she knew there was no point in arguing with the stubborn child and it was just simpler to let her be.

          “Myosotis Low-Lily,” she said, the common farewell and bowed her head.

          “Myosotis Endine,” Acacia whispered, finally looking at her maid and when she had left, she lifted her legs to her chest, holding them tightly to herself.

          Tomorrow she would meet Nasturtium. And she was scared.

          But the next day she didn’t meet her Future.

          That night was the night the men from the Land of Sand attacked the Lily Castle, almost burned the Myosotis and killed the High-Lily, Dahlia, Acacia’s mother, along with a great number of people of the Court.

          That night, her story began…