the sweetly scented killer

sammy flower

flora

I hum to myself while surveying the flowers on my early morning stroll of the palace gardens.

I'm not exactly sure what melody is trapped inside my mind, but it's rather pleasant, and I don't wish for it to egress my thoughts just yet. It starts lower, down the octave, then increases in treble as it continues.

I pause in place to observe a specific flower I haven't come across. I don't remember seeing it during yesterday's stroll, and I don't recall its creation.

I reach my hand out to it, then halt my hand before I get too close.

"Malaki?" I say curiously. He appears beside me in a gentle fashion.

"Yes, my lady?"

"This flower is quite the enchantress, don't you agree?"

"Certainly."

"What kind is it?" He tilts his head at the delicate beauty.

"This is a nerium oleander flower. Also known as the sweetly scented killer." I raise my eyebrows in shock.

"A killer?"

"Lethal if consumed, and likely to cause a rash when touched. A highly poisonous charmer."

"Do you know who planted this scourge within the beds of my garden?"

Malaki drifts to a brief state of pondering. "I cannot say, my lady."

"I see."

"Would you like it removed?"

"No," I smile, grazing its petals with the pads of my fingers. "Our Grandest Father creates balance with plants such as this oleander." I heal myself of the plant's deadly nature taking effect on the fingers in which I used to touch it. "Do not let anyone besides myself come in contact with this silent killer, please, Malaki."

"Of course, my lady." He takes my hand and kisses it before he dematerializes and fades out of sight.

I study the sweetly scented killer for a moment more before I head inside to start my day with my twin sister Fauna. We watch over the humans, and I smile as they treat the earthly plants and animals with care.

A few choose not to follow this particular path, and we have no choice but to call upon Karma from the underworld. She decides what their punishment will comprise, and unlike Fauna, I have wished to not be enlightened on such punishments.

Fauna does not care for the humans. She thinks they are sloppy, conceited, and self-interested at best. They are a war species, and that is how they present themselves. Fauna sees these traits on the surface, and is saddened by their choices. I understand my dear sister and her sentiments, yet I choose to look past their faults, hence, one of my own. As Fauna graciously brings to light, my vision is often clouded by my need to seek out the best.

Father suggests this is a strength, while mother contradicts his take and sees it as a weakness. My eldest brother, Castiel, however, claims it to be a bit of both. He says it will bring me much happiness to be able to the brighter side of things, but also may harm my ability to assess a situation to its fullest, due to my optimism. A curse, as mother and Fauna call it, and a gift as Castiel and Father say.

As the day ages, I find my mind wandering to the oleander in my beautiful gardens. I am still unsure as to how it ended up with my other creations. I used a gift of mine to shield the other vegetation in its vicinity from any harmful excretions.

I take my spot next to my dear sister Fauna for high tea, surrounded by the rest of our brothers and sisters. There are eight of us, plus mother and father who sit at the heads of the table, making ten.

"You reek of the soil you play in all day, Flora," Fauna whispers, frowning upon me.

"Do I?" I frown.

"Yes," she moves her chair away from mine. "And it needs fixing."

"I apologize, dear sister—"

"Go wash up," she instructs. I follow her guidance and head to our room to cleanse myself. I hum the sweet tune from this morning while I get cleaned up.

I change into a dress that was recently made for me by the mother of one of my dear friends. It is a gracious eggshell white, with lovely pink flowers that decorate it. A sweetheart neckline suits my bosom, and sleeves that flow like the early morning wind grace my arms and shoulders.

I sprout small flowers to place in my curly hair, then head to the hall.

"Flora," a sweet voice I recognize calls my name. I smile and turn around to see him.

"Samuel," I smile, my face going a bit hot. "How are you?"

"I am well," he grins. "Better now that I see you." I laugh a little, and look down at the floor beneath us.

"I concur." We are silent for the amount of time it takes me to get through half of the unknown melody stuck in my head.

"Your flowers are beautiful," he says softly, gently adjusting the flower in my hair.

"Thank you," I brighten up. "I made them just a few moments ago."

"What do you call it?" I contemplate his question.

"Perhaps, a sammy flower," I smile at him. He laughs.

"I love it." I sprout one more in the palm of my hand, then present it to him. "Thank you, Flora."

"My pleasure, Sammy." He kisses my hand before I depart and head back to the table full of my family. I take my seat next to my dear sister.

Fauna and I have been in existence for nineteen Earth Years. Our Grandest Father has made it an official directive that we stop physically aging at forty years of existence, but twenty is also when you receive your mate for the rest of your existence. Our creation date will be here in exactly two days time.

Before meeting your mate, you are said to experience a connection to them, even if you don't realize it. Something such as experiencing their feelings when pain is inflicted upon them. Hearing the same sound they hear without a warning or even being able to identify it.

I have absolutely no clue who Our Grandest Father will pick to be my mate, but I have covertly been hoping it is Samuel, someone that I hold close to my heart.

It is frowned upon to wish for a specific mate, but I just haven't been able to help myself. I shared my desires with Fauna, and I discovered that she fancies him as well.

I try my best to stay neutral about my feelings for Samuel out of respect for my sister, but I find that it is harder than I expected.

"How do you like my dress?" I turn to Fauna, smoothing it out to seek her approval.

"That looks like one of my dresses," she says.

"Does it?"

"Yes. Are you wearing my dress?"

"Goodness, no. I would never take your clothing without your permission, dear sister."

"Hm."

"So, do you like it?"

"It is quite a nice dress. But it looks alright on you."

"Oh."

"Do not say 'oh', Flora. Accept a compliment when it is given to you."

"My apologies, dear sister. Thank you," I grin.

"You are welcome." For a few seconds, I maintain a smile of admiration at my dear sister who teaches me more than I could ask for. I hum the tune that has taken residence inside my head and sip my tea as I wait to be spoken to by my sweet family so that I have the clearance to speak to them.

I was not spoken to at today's high tea, but like everyday, this just fills me with hope for tomorrow's.

a/n: constructive criticism is my love language, so don't be afraid to rip my heart in two, obliterate the pieces, put them in chicken noodle soup and feed them to me

hope you guys enjoy the story :)