35 years ago, in 1812, Germany.
A young girl walked out into the field. She had depressed eyes after the storm. The people evacuated from it, and after what happened, it destroyed the fields. The fields she walked on from the 4th year she was born.
She knelt down and stared at the soil. Her father was plowing the destroyed field, they were ready to plant new ones after plowing. The young girl suddenly felt excited and ran to her father.
"Yes Petra dear?" He says with a tired face, sweat dropping from his forehead and breathless panting.
"Can you plant blue hydrangeas?"
Her father looked at her in confusion as he sat on top of the field plower. "Blue hydrangeas?" Petra nodded and showed him a petal she picked 15 days before the storm. Her father slowly got the petal from her and observed it.
"Is this your favorite flower?" With a nod, he raised his eyebrows in amusement. "I see. Well, I'll go and buy from the market." Petra looked overjoyed. She ran towards him and hugged him tight.
The man laughed as he pat his 6-year old daughter on the head. Days have passed and the field gained it's color again. The young girl from the Ral family giggled as she buried herself within the field of flowers.
Flowers that her father bought, planted. Flowers that she requested, which he accepted. Out of happiness, she began making flower crowns for herself and her father.
1818.
The town the Ral family was in had recovered from the storm which was 6 years ago. Now 12, Petra had began helping her father man the shoemaker store they had.
Plowing the fields was one of Mr. Ral's jobs. He had two, to man his own shop, and plow the field where he would plant beautiful flowers for his daughter. It serves itself as a reminder for his dead wife, who is a pure lover of flowers.
Mr. Ral thought Petra's beauty and kindness came from her mother. And it did. After her untimely passing, her death was still unknown up to this day. He found her dead on the street alone at night.
Her neck was ripped open.
And it was one of the worst, tragic sight he has ever seen in his entire life.
Another reason why the field was there, wasn't only because his wife loved flowers, planting, but she was buried there. Buried underneath the beautiful flowers and trees. He thought it was necessary to do so.
Petra stepped out of the cobbler's carriage. Greeting her father's associate before he took off to deliver hand-made shoes to the people who lost their footwear from the storm.
Mr. Ral was able to store everything he needed to make for everyone in the town. But what he couldn't protect their living home, and so it was demolished.
Some things were spared. Some were destroyed and lost.
Petra went back in the store, pushing the wooden door open. The air brushed her long skirt including her strawberry-blonde hair. Her father was there, repairing a broken shoe as requested by a citizen.
With a small wave, she went back upstairs to her room. Her bed was nicely made from earlier and her room smelt like strawberry with a mixed scent of floral and grass. Probably because from their field.
She opened her wooden drawer, changing her clothes to a different one. And after doing so, she went out of her room again to walk down the field, to feel the cold but refreshing breeze outside.
As she sat under the tree, she smiled to herself, mumbling, "Morning mother." and she then caressed the tree, her smile not fading. Her expression still warm, not displaying any sadness.
+•+
It was already night after Petra gone out from the house to their fields. Her father was already starting to take a break from finishing with his last set. She insisted that she'll make coffee for her father, it was the least she can do for now.
Mr. Ral nevertheless, agreed since he needed to take a hint. "Petra dear, these boots-" He showed her the boots. It was mesmerizing and she had a stunned look on her face.
"-will be what your lover will wear. If you love a man, ask him to wear these boots. It's special. It's made with the finest Corinthian leather."
Her mind suddenly thought about her future, and she had a blush spread across her cheeks. "Alright," Petra smiled at him as she headed to the kitchen to prepare the drink.
The man hears a knock from the door. "Who could that be?" He never had a customer visit the store so late at night. And once more, the store is closed. It was too late for anyone to come in.
He got a wee bit suspicious. But curiosity took over him and decided he'd open the door. Maybe it's just some lost kid, or so he thought.
Once Mr. Ral opened the door, he was facing a mysterious figure, sporting a small cloak cascading down his back and covering his upper body. The figure stepped in, making a violent creak on the wooden floor.
"Who are you? Our store is closed, er, sir,"
The figure took in time for a moment, and suddenly stole the boots the owner has finished working on. "Hey! Give that back you thief!" Before Mr. Ral caught up to the figure, he ran as fast as he could.
"Give that back! I will inform the guards!" He warned, but then before he could say or do anything, the figure made an unexpected move.
Back inside, Petra was humming to herself when she found the counter empty. Her father was absent from the place. As she started looking for her father, she placed the coffee down the desk and went upstairs if he was there.
No presence.
She then went out from the back door and searched for him in the fields- He wasn't there either. When she got back, she found the main door open, with the cold air flowing inside.
Then she thought, he could've went outside to smoke his pipe. As she got out, her feet touched the pebbled path, and out of nowhere, found her father lying down in the middle of the street.
What caught her attention was the blood flowing from his head. She ran to him and observed his face. It was pale, she tried to feel the pulse from his neck, arm and chest, but there were no signs of vitalities.
Her heart sunk and she broke down into tears.
