The seven flowers of fate

Chapter 1: The Missing Presence

I woke to the soft sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting golden rays across the wooden floors. The warm light spilled over the wild tangle of my garden just beyond the window, the magical flowers shimmering with a life of their own. For a moment, everything was still and peaceful. But as I turned, I reached out instinctively to the other side of the bed and felt nothing.

The sheets were cool. He hadn't returned.

I frowned, my hand lingering on the empty space beside me. He had promised me he'd be back before I went to sleep. I must have fallen asleep waiting

For a few moments, I simply stared at the empty place where he should have been, a sense of unease settling in my chest. He was late, but that wasn't entirely unusual. His adventures often kept him longer than planned, but this time felt different-something about the way the silence stretched through the room unsettled me.

With a sigh, I pushed back the covers and slid out of bed. The morning air was cool against my skin, and as I moved toward the window, my eyes drifted over the wild, overflowing expanse of my garden. It was a riot of color, filled with magical flowers and plants I had collected from every corner of the land-each one holding a power, a secret, and a story.

I stood there for a moment, letting my gaze wander, trying to shake the worry that gnawed at the back of my mind. Where was he?

I sighed again, forcing myself to move. I stepped into the bath, letting the warm water wash over me, soothing my nerves as I ran a brush through my long golden locks ,today I'll woven them into braids each strand interlaced with small delicate flowers should add the pink or the purple.

I Blushed when I saw the purple blooms , "Purple is my favourite,you know" he had teased ,his dark eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief as he watched braid my hair "you should wear it more of it " "looks beautiful on you " I remember how his gaze lingered on the purple flowers I had woven in my hair that day "just for you ,then " I had teased back he has always found away of making me feel like I was the only person in the world .

Kellan my heart ached at the thought of him .

I exhaled slowly pushing away my worry He would come back-I knew he would. He always did, even if it took longer than expected. He was strong, fierce, and capable of surviving whatever the world threw at him . I made my way outside,hoping to clear my thoughts I needed to keep busy .

The garden stretched out before me, a place of beauty and magic, filled with the plants we had collected together-flowers that held healing properties, herbs that whispered of far-off lands. He would bring them to me from his travels, sometimes bruised or bloodied from his battles, but always with a smile, always with a story.

I knelt by the nearest patch of herbs and began to work, tending to the plants with careful hands, trying to lose myself ,I needed to keep my mind off him, off the empty space in my bed, off the growing sense of dread that curled inside me

I began gathering needed plants and herbs into my basket and went inside for my mixing potions, whispering the familiar incantations that coaxed the magic from the plants, their soft glow warming my hands as I worked. Healing was what I did best, what I loved. My magic flowed through me as I worked, steady and sure, but there was a part of me that couldn't settle.

And then the air shifted

It was subtle at first, a change in the wind, a slight ripple in the stillness of the morning. I froze, my hands hovering over the bowl of herbs I had been grinding. I knew that feeling. I knew it like I knew the beat of my own heart.

The air twirled, a soft breeze swirling through the garden, and I felt it his presence

I stood, turning slowly, my breath catching in my throat. There, standing at the edge of the garden, was My Beloved Worrior his silhouette was framed by the early morning light, his dark hair tousled and wild, his armor battered and streaked with the marks of battle. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, and despite the weariness in his eyes, that familiar, mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips ,but it was his eyes those dark pupils with sliver flames dancing in them ,caught mine .they were filled with a mix of weariness and relief despite the wight on his shoulders .

"Miss me?" he asked, his voice rough but warm , the edges of his armor catching the light.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. There he was

my beautiful warrior, returned to me at last. Even though his armor was ragged, even though his body was worn from whatever battles he had faced, there was still that spark in his eyes-the part of him that was mine.

"You're late," I said, though the relief in my voice betrayed the smile on my lips.

He stepped forward, his boots crunching softly on the grass as he closed the distance between us. "Couldn't be helped."

I reached out, my fingers brushing lightly against his arm, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath the battered metal. He caught my hand, bringing it to his lips in a gesture so tender it made my heart ache.

"I promised you," he said softly, his eyes locking with mine. "I'll always come back."

I exhaled slowly, still holding his gaze. "What happened? Where were you?"

His smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of exhaustion I knew too well. He didn't always tell me the full truth about his travels, but we both knew the dangers of what he sought. The flowers the seven rare blooms that held the key to the potion we needed-weren't easily found. They were scattered across the lands, hidden in dangerous places, guarded by creatures that most wouldn't dare face.

"I found a lead," he said, brushing a lock of my hair behind my ear. "But it wasn't easy. We'll have to go after it together."

My heart skipped a beat. "Which one?"

"Nythriel," he replied, his voice dropping slightly. "The Bloom of Nightfall. It's guarded, just like we feared."

Nythriel. The first of the seven. Its petals could grant the power of prophetic dreams, but its magic was as dangerous as it was alluring. We'd heard rumors that it was protected by creatures of shadow-beings that could only be defeated by breaking their connection to the night itself.

"Together, then," I said, my voice steady. I had known this was coming. We had been preparing for it.

He gave a small nod, the tension in his body easing as he looked around the garden. "But first, a bit of rest. It's been... a long night."

I took his hand, leading him back toward the cottage, where I could tend to his wounds. As we stepped inside, the familiar scent of herbs and magic wrapped around us like a protective shield. Our sanctuary