“Come to think of it, I probably should have told her about the disappearances around here lately. Eh, I don’t want to bother her about work stuff when she’s trying to relax. I’m sure the other knights will take good care of it. I mean, what could possibly hurt a Throne?”

Mary

———

The Knight

The inside of the shop is filled to the brim with various types of flora. Red spider lilies hang from the ceiling, creating a bloodish hue that illuminates the room, while red chrysanthemums grow from beneath the floorboards. The Bloom, the figure calls it, exudes an otherworldly atmosphere, and any traces of the outside world seem to disappear upon entry.

The man walks towards The Knight and performs a deep bow, a single lavender hydrangea poking out from his robe.

“Welcome, my lady, to my humble shop. My name is Satanael, and I am the maestro of this verdant oasis.”

The man’s voice emits a rich, buttery tone. Every word is enunciated with extreme precision; every syllable clearly defined. His demeanor is the very definition of elegance with his every step carefully calculated and controlled.

“My, this is quite the beautiful shop you have,” The Knight says. “Why is such a place hidden so far away from the rest of the district?”

“Ah, I prefer the privacy that this quaint little location provides. I wish to provide the utmost quality of service to my guests, and that is simply not feasible in the hustle of such a busy area.”

Satanael silently strides towards a glass display filled with flowers of every color. He carefully examines each one, inspecting every petal and filament, and his hand gently caresses the stem as he assesses the firmness and bounce.

“Besides, I prefer to cater towards a specific… clientele. Fate tends to draw them towards this humble abode, bewitched by the alluring aroma of my flora. I am an artist, after all, and an artist needs a patron to give their work meaning.”

He finishes his evaluation and plucks a golden flower from the case; its appendages bloom outwards, similar to the red spider lilies above.

He carefully shields the flower and brings it over The Knight, presenting it with an exaggerated flourish.

“Lycoris Aurea, an ethereal looking flower is it not? It symbolizes courage, love, and wisdom, all characteristics that our radiant guardian no doubt has. It sparkles amidst the light, radiating a beautiful translucent gold.”

The Knight hesitantly takes the flower. It emits a warm, captivating scent, enrapturing the mind of any caught in its presence.

“It certainly is enchanting.”

“Your words honor me. It is my utmost pleasure to serve one of your status.”

“You don’t need to speak with such formality. I’m perfectly comfortable with more casual conversation.”

“But that would go against my very code, madam! A gentleman must always conduct himself with grace. It matters not if they are an urchin from the streets or a pristine nobleman from the castle. How can I dare spread beauty if I am not beautiful myself?”

“Quite an eccentric lifestyle you have.”

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“Eccentric? Perhaps so, but life is ever so entertaining with such peculiarities, do you not agree?”

“I suppose.”

“Very good, Very good. Now, before we head on towards the main attraction, I’d like to ask for a small favor. Think of it as…a little test to discover your aptitude.”

“My aptitude? Curious, what for?”

“It is merely to see what sort of flora would match your soul. Although we may disguise our outward appearances, what lies within can never be changed.”

“The soul, hm?” The Knight questions, a lurking malice hidden within its words. “Fascinating. What do you need me to do?”

“All I require is a drop of your blood. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“My blood? I’m afraid that is going to be a bit difficult.”

“May I ask perhaps why?”

“You may not.”

“I...see. Well, I’m sure that we’ll be able to discover a flower just right for you even without it.”

Satanael glides towards the back of the shop, dusting off a small ornate door with a black rose embedded in its design.

“Follow me, if you would so please. Beyond here lies my most treasured possessions. Normally, I would bar entry to this area from other guests, but I’ll make an exception for the shining beacon of our nation.”

The Knight obliges and the two head through the door. An impossibly large field opens before them, the sky stuck in a perpetual state of daytime. Flowers of every species lie scattered through the garden, extending far beyond the eye can see and blanketed in a sea of color and brilliance.

“Just where is this?” The Knight asks, stunned at the sudden change in scenery.

“My very own paradise. I call it the Garden of Eden for its pristine beauty.”

Satanael walks towards the middle of the garden where four intricate flowers lay encased in glass, their beauty forever imprisoned in a constant state of eternity.

“In my lifetime, I have only managed to create four flowers of transcendent divinity.”

He gently caresses the case of the first flower. Its petals glisten a verdant green, and the stems openly protrude out, as if attempting to wrap someone in a loving embrace.

“The first was my mother, who worked so hard to ensure that I grew up proper. It was because of her that I discovered how magnificent this world truly was.”

He moves on to the next flower. Unlike the first one, it emits an ominous atmosphere. Pitch black tendrils loom out from the pistil, and the petals lay decayed in a feeble cry for help.

“The second was my father. I learned from him that there was beauty in everyone, no matter how darkened their soul may be.”

The third flower is gigantic in size compared to the others. Scattered bits of white cover the surface of the red petals, and in the center, a gaping maw opens up with spikes surrounding the edge of the lip.

”The third came from a particularly lascivious woman. She was a fellow admirer of the arts such as myself, and in the end, she became that which she cherished most.”

The final flower is a simple red rose, and yet there is something mesmerizing about it. Out of all the flowers so far, it is the most beautiful despite its mundane appearance. It is the very picture of indomitable virtue, of unsullied innocence.

“The final flower came from an exceedingly ordinary man. He was average in every sense imaginable: Average appearance; average personality; average ability. And yet, despite his mediocrity, he became the star of my little collection. Fascinating, isn’t it? The most unique of souls laid blended in with the crowd, their true potential undiscovered.”

The Knight backs away from Satanael, Eclipse unsheathed and pointed towards the figure.

“They, indeed, truly are beautiful,” The Knight admits. “However, as you said, such art needs a patron in order to give it value.”

“True, there is merit in what you say,” Satanael concedes. “But how could an artist pass up the opportunity to create their magnum opus? I’m confident, fervently so, that your blood will yield the most beautiful flora that the world has ever seen. How could it not from someone who radiates such pure radiance? Your guiding light encompasses the nation, inspiring all those that bathe within its luminescence. Don’t you wish to encase that light for eternity? To become an immortal symbol of hope?”

“Unfortunately, I am quite tired of eternity. I wish for nothing more than to rest, peacefully spending my days in oblivion.”

“I see. A shame. Truly, a shame.”

Satanael reveals a curved, serrated dagger from underneath his robe. Its tiny, jagged blades jut out with vicious bloodlust, releasing a malevolent crimson aura.

“I had hoped that you would understand my plea, but perhaps the blood of a fallen hero will provide of equal splendor.”