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Flowers Rain Upon Them (Tragic High Fantasy)
Chapter 4: The Thread of a Blue Scarf

Chapter 4: The Thread of a Blue Scarf

I returned to Zenvo some days later, even if I never found out how many. While Ludlun was busy burning under the yoke of Dream Cirruin I slipped out of my hometown and walked the, for me now short, path to Zenvo.

I slipped past the walls, appearing directly on the park. It was the dead of the night, no soul would be alerted of my true nature. No one to witness and panic.

The moonlight fell through the colander of leaves that was the canopy of the ombú, the park’s largest tree. I didn’t know it back then: the tree was a female. But the day in which I would learn trees could have different sexes was still far from coming.

I sat under the ombú and observed the shadows shift as the night went by. I needed no sleep. I needn’t to blink. Your privilege is to exist regardless of the whims of a dreamer; mine is, among others, to be able to easily ignore every and each need and want of my body. To observe without pause, to record without external distractions. This no brag, I consider my life frail, infinitely more so than yours. For the dragon to forget is for the dragon to kill me. Without fire, without teeth, just a thought and I shall be no more.

And in those days, friend, my—for lack of a better word—existence was something I valued dearly. Don’t misunderstand it: to value being alive doesn’t necessarily rouses a need to act within me. To be sitting under that tree as night crawled away, I can only define it as blissful.

The shadows danced, yet not for me. Dawns first light covered Zenvo’s in orange hues and rouse the life between the houses. As the sun extended tendrils of shadow from the buildings and the ombú, people began coming out of their lairs, to interact. Merchants arrived to the market, tax collectors began their round of the day, and the windows flew open.

A wooly animal approached me and began sniffing. It took me a while to recognize the little thing as a variety of dog. As I only did when it went away happily yapping. Once the morning was in full throttle, I decided it was time to peruse the market again. It made sense to me that you could come to know the people by learning what they needed, by seeing what they desired.

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The pedestrians were far too engrossed in their shopping to notice that I moved true to my nature. One step from the north, another from the south, to go away from a stand by walking out of a nearby alley and into the next. To look out of windows of houses long ago abandoned.

It was while I marveled at the imperfections of the thread of a bright blue scarf that she found me, and pinched my arm.

I turned to meet the bewildered gaze of the Woman that taught me about dogs. With mouth agape and eyes wide open, she pointed at me.

“Hello again, kind soul.”

“You are not a ghost,” she whispered, a forced smile shyly peeking out from her face.

“Whatever a ghost may be, I am not it. I apologize if I gave the wrong impression.”

“You don’t know about ghosts either? Where do you come from?” She asked with a grimace of slight indignation.

“Ghosts are not spoke of, not as such, back in Ludlun.”

The merchant began laughing.

“Good one, man.” the young guy kept on snickering. “Pretty dame, he is messing with you. Not much of anything is spoken of in Ludlun, not since a century and a half ago.”

She disregarded him with a gesture of the hand. “I am sure his is just a foreign word you are misinterpreting.” She turned back to face me. “A ghost is… the soul, spirit, the being of a dead person, still lingering around the living after they… well, die.”

“Ah. Death is a common occurrence back home. I died several times this month only. It’s only temporal, mildly annoying. “

She stared blankly, blinking several times. “I am rather convinced that this is product of a language barrier, sir. You must be confusing death with sleep.”

“No, I mean dragon comes. With fire and teeth. Scorches us all to ashes. Then we rise back to life and go on our business, whatever it may be after the last death,” I explained slowly, as one would a child. She examined my face, and then raced away, screaming, claiming me to be a ghost.

“Please, sir, don’t do that, I need the ladies to buy my scarves if I want to eat today.” The merchant said, but not in an angry tone: he seemed amused from the situation.

“Fine, farewell, then.”

I willed myself home and within a few steps, I was in the middle of the clearing, in front of the cave’s entrance.