The next morning was a light affair of tea and scones for Anya readying herself for the day ahead; the unknown swimming in front of her. She made a mental note to make a quick stop at the local florist before heading over to meet Annie and Paul at the estate.
If she hurried, she could make it there a few minutes before them in order to do some digging of her own.
Grabbing her bag, she left the house and hopped into the car; goals set in mind. After a few turns she pulled over at "Mama's Floral", silently hoping that there was still a fresh pick of blooms this morning.
She browsed over the containers and arrangements thoughtfully, waiting for something to catch her eye. There were plenty of roses, lilies, sunflowers, any and all common flowers she found on every mantle or grave.
"Need somethin', darlin?" She turned to see the shopkeeper with a warm smile on her face.
"Oh, well yes, actually. I just need a few small blooms, nothing too.." She attempted to find the word.
"Obnoxious?" The old woman chuckled, "Don't you worry baby, I got just the thing." She motioned for Anya to follow until they reached the back of the store. There lay a few different types of flowers in smaller size that instantly drew her in.
"I'll take ten of these please." She motioned to a bucket of white flowers.
"Maybe not what I would've picked, but the meaning is still a lovely thing," The shopkeeper smiled and picked a few, "These are gardenias, they symbolize sweetness and convey a sense of joy. Almost as if to tell the receiver 'you are lovely!'" She took the flowers to the register with Anya in tow.
She paid the woman and took the small bundle with a small 'thank you' before leaving towards her car. The streets of New Orleans were still at rest in the early light of morning, allowing her for a peaceful drive in the sun as she switched the radio station.
Are you with me, Crescent City? Do you feel it comin' on? When the Catholic Church realised they couldn't rid us of our pagan ways, they invited...
On second thought, maybe a quiet drive was what she needed. While Kingfish kept the radio lively with his deep Louisiana accent and wisdom of all things mythical, today just wasn't the time for thoughts about dark forces.
After another ten minutes she pulled into the driveway of Annie's ancestral home, noting that she had in fact beaten them to the punch at the absence of Paul's red truck. Locking her car, she took the flowers and began the walk inside to the shrine.
The old Tarrant estate was run down and well used, white paint browning and chipping from the walls by the droves with smashed porcelain and glass everywhere she looked. She didn't even want to think about the dust and mold that covered every square inch by this point. Trudging carefully up the stairs she found a group of what appeared to be homeless men sitting on a loose mattress.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude. I- well, I was looking for the shrine for Candy-" She was cut off as one of the men jumped back with a hand up.
"Don't be sayin' that name, not here!" She startled and tried to apologize again before being cut off once more.
"That old thing doesn't get many visitors. What do ya want with it?" An older man grumbled.
Anya hesitated and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
"Just here to leave an offering." She gestured to the flowers in her hand. The man drew his eyes from the gardenias to her face, nodding to the left.
YOU ARE READING
In Morte, Aerternitatis
RomanceBorn in Saint Petersburg, Russia to a wealthy family of Russian aristocrats, Anya Fyodorov is a well educated and privileged woman; spirited away at a young age along with her mother and brother by her father, Ivan, to America in order to escape a d...
