Hexe - The Great Exodus

[CH. 0013] - The Uncrowded King

Ollo

Oh−loh

Type: Interjection

Meaning: A formal or informal greeting used among Menschen, equivalent to "hello" or "greetings" in Human.

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Veilla wandered through the Palace gardens, bathed in a blend of scents—floral and soil-like, intertwined with the gentle breeze. The peace of the surroundings momentarily calmed the storm within her thoughts and, perhaps, within her heart.

Her eyes, lost in thought, eventually focused on a small figure amidst the lush foliage: her daughter, Fiorna.

Fiorna's hair, as white as the purest alabaster and woven with a myriad of blossoms, presented a vivid contrast to her deep blue eyes. Those eyes, a hallmark of the Menschen lineage, shimmered with a depth of kindness and innocence as deep as a tranquil sea.

She was fixated on a young sapling, her slender fingers hovering just above it with a touch as gentle as a whisper. Veilla proudly observed in silent awe. Under Fiorna's careful magic, the sapling responded as if touched by the Green Mother itself. Its leaves unfurled, revealing a lush green vibrancy, while its buds bloomed into the softest shades of pink, an enchanting spectacle of natural beauty and grace.

"Scheida!"

"Language!" Veilla interjected, her tone light yet assertive, cutting through the garden surrounding them. "What's there to complain about? It's absolutely beautiful."

Fiorna, with a mild start, turned to face her mother. Her smile, radiant and warm like the first light of dawn, graced her features. "Mother, you gave me a scare," she said with a light chuckle, her relief evident. "I was trying to create blue flowers, but it seems these trees have a preference for shades of pink or red."

A gentle smile played on Veilla's lips as she instinctively placed a hand on her round belly, "Persistence might be the key, sweety."

Fiorna glanced back at the sapling, her expression softening with a touch of wonder. "The closest I managed was purple," she mused. Then, her curiosity shone through, and she turned her attention back to her mother. "How did it go?"

"How did what go, sweetheart?"

"Your talk with the man with hair of diamonds," Fiorna clarified, her eyes searching her mother's face, "Your first love, but not the last."

Veilla's expression wavered for a moment, a hint of unease flickering in her eyes. "Oh, you knew about that..." she murmured, her voice trailing off as she grappled with the memories of that difficult conversation.

"I know many things, many that I choose not to speak of," Fiorna's voice floated softly, imbued with a depth of wisdom that seemed to surpass her Falls. "Like the name of the father."

She was more than just the personification of Spring; she possessed an indescribable power, a kind of clairvoyance, perhaps, that Veilla couldn't fully grasp. And Fiorna, in her bizarre way, remained tight-lipped about whose Spirit called her Master.

Amidst the rustling leaves, Veilla's voice arose, fragile and hesitant. "Am I making a mistake?" she asked.

Fiorna turned to her, "Does it feel like a mistake?"

Veilla's reply was an uncertain murmur. "I don't know..."

A shadow of contemplation briefly darkened Fiorna's expression, a ripple of concern crossing her face. "Everything happens for a reason." Fiorna paused, her eyes dropping as if grappling with a painful realisation. "It's just a shame..." Her voice trailed off, "The world will be a much darker place without them."