~Fate

“These flowers are lovely, but do you have any still attached to their roots?” I ask, looking through the flowers that the young man has shown us. Wrapped and ready to be gifted.

“You don’t need to worry, these will keep for months.”

“That’s incredible, but I really need the whole plants.” I say, looking through them. “You really don’t have anything?”

“I might have something like what you’re after.” The young hobbyist says, “I’m not sure I’d really want to give them up, though.”

“Weren’t you saying yesterday that you were interested in visiting the city and finding yourself a woman?” I ask, recalling the young man from my trading spree just yesterday. “It’s a short enough trip, and I’m sure with those flowers and some jewellery like this you’ll be able to find a fine young woman.”

“I guess…” He says, glancing back down to his garden behind him. “If I’m going to act, then now is the time… I wouldn’t be here to take care of them, and it’s not like they’ll flower again before next spring. What are you using them for?”

“It’s a gift. I’m sure the people we’re giving them to will love them as much as you.” Perhaps even too much with how they drink the dew from the petals.

“Well, alright. You can have them.” He says, looking down at the flowers with a somewhat pained expression. Hope doesn’t hesitate to dig up the plants that this young man has likely spent his life trying to cultivate.

She carefully places them in the basket we’ve placed in her bag for this exact purpose. Gathering the widest selection of the flowering plants we can. The fairies don’t seem to have any particular favourites but are instead looking to have one of everything. Then two of everything. Then three after that.

With these in the bag, we head out to meet with Sara and her mother at the edge of the forest. They both stand there cautiously. Looking over at the innkeeper who is struggling to gather together the villagers to help him another day.

I guess that even here, a missing child isn’t reason enough to waste away the last days of your life in hopeless searches.

A few people still do help the man, but he just can’t gather the same attention as he managed yesterday. That fact isn’t something that he’s blind to, and his cries for help only grow more desperate the longer he goes without adequate help.

“You’ve been busy.” Sara’s mother says, waving to the flowers that we’ve gathered. “He finally decided to leave, did he?”

“He?”

“Kincade, the boy growing those flowers, you didn’t just pluck them from his field, did you?” She asks, leering at us.

“No, no. It was a fair trade. He’s running off to the city, to find himself a girl.” She nods in calm understanding. “You’re that familiar with him?”

“We all know each other out here.” She says, “It’s not as if there are many strangers in a village this small.”

“Then why aren’t they bothered about the boys disappearance?” Hope asks, gesturing to those who are leaving the innkeeper and the small group of those who support him.

“We know each other, that doesn’t mean that we all care.” She says, “Besides, a missing child at this time of year? Most people won’t think of the fae, they’ll think that he ran away to make the most of his imperfect life.”

“That’s common out here too?” I ask, as we start into the forest.

“Not as common as the city children who pass through.” She replies, “Usually they don’t have a thing to their name, and they’re more than willing to steal and take as they please. They’re far worse that the fake bandits that beg by the roadside.”

“I would take umbrage to your description if it weren’t so perfectly true.” The bard says, joining us. I’m surprised that he decided to come back at all, beyond the stolen sword used in the trick, he really has nothing to do with this.

“We simply can’t compete with the younger generations; their heartless competition makes it impossible to be a good villain.” He lowers his head in fake self-loathing, though the awkward pause that follows seems to speak of the genuine deal.

Perhaps he has some bad memories from his time, galivanting about as a bandit.

We make our way quick through the forest, and in a few short minutes we find ourselves in the company of the fairies again. They gather up and hover in the air around the new flowers, arguing which are the best and where they should be planted.

Sara and I translate the arguments of the fae, as they try to decide where each flower aught to be planted. Sara’s mother keeps her far from the circle itself, while Hope and I carefully dig the earth and plant the flowers in pretty patterns.

Hope is surprisingly capable, not only in planting them, but also keeping them from clashing too harshly. The colours are still varied enough to make it less than appealing, but the fairies seem to love it the more as the controlled chaos of colour fills their fairy ring.

Only a single flowering plant remains in the basket untouched, unwanted by the fairies, who disregard it without need to even discuss it. It’s not an ugly flower, deep purple with edges coloured black.

I guess we’ll keep it then, if the fairies don’t want it.

“The mountain flower!” The same fairy as from yesterday shouts at me, “You have to get the mountain flower, or it’s not a real garden.”

“You’re not going to keep having us run off after more and more difficult to find flowers, are you?” I ask, glaring down at the little trickster.

“Nuh-uh.” He denies me easily. “Just the mountain flower, and anything else pretty you find on the way. There isn’t that much time to have you running on 100 year quests.”

“100 year quests?” I ask, “Is that the normal timeline of your pranks.”

“Sometimes.” The fairy shrugs, “The mountain flower?”

“Yes, yes, we’ll get you your mountain flower. They’re not rare are they?” I ask.

“The mountain flowers grow at the edges of the forest and the mountain. They aren’t common, but they aren’t rare.” Sara’s mother says. “If you’re leaving to search for one, Sara and I will return to the village.”

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“But mu~m!” Sara cries.

“No.” Her mother insists, “I will not give the fae more chance to chain you to their schemes. You will come with me.”

“Well, shall we go then?” I ask hope as she brushes the dirt from her hands. She sneers at the brown stain the dirt has left on her hands, but she just can’t rub it clean.

“How do we avoid getting lost?” She asks, packing her shovel back to the side of her bag. Not the one that she’s so careful with, but the larger one that she carries beside it.

“Just keep going up the hill, when past the forest you’ll be able to find the road easily enough, and you can follow that right back to town.” Sara’s mother says, “We’re leaving so… thank you. Thank you for helping not just Sara but Luek too.”

“It’s fine.” Hope replies before I can say a thing. “It’s only right to try and save him, even if…”

“Yes… even if we fail.” Sara’s mother replies with a dark smile. “I won’t let the same happen to Sara. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yes, it was… an adventure, meeting you.” I reply, wearing the same smile I bring to a deal. It certainly hasn’t been the best circumstances that brought us together, but that’s in no way her fault.

“Let’s get going.” Hope says, already eager to get going. It’s almost as if she hasn’t been digging holes and gardening for the last half an hour. I know this girl is fit, but I mean, this is just unreasonable.

“We should take it slow so we don’t miss any flowers on the way.” I suggest, following her step up the mountain. This is going to be way more difficult than when we ran down the mountainside.

The air in the forest chills the further up the slope we walk, there’s hints of drifting snow but most quickly melt when they hit the ground, or my outstretched hand. Large clumps of the white snow fall from the treetops, warmed by the sunlight overhead, and slipping from their seats on the canopy above.

The trees here grow much more thin compared to what lies at our back. This entire forest here is nothing more than a strip between the mountains and the grassy hills, and those grassy hills don’t even last very long before they turn to sandy desert instead. I’ve heard a few academic types try to explain why the land here is like this, but none made any points particularly convincingly.

“Can we take another break?” I ask, trying to quiet my wheezing a little and maintain some small hint of pride.

Hope looks back at me, her bag now covered in bright flowers and dirt that we’ve picked up along the way. The fae aren’t following us today, which is nice at least, they’re company can be a little less than desirable.

She pauses for a second, looking from my dirty boots to my red face. She doesn’t even have a single bead of sweat on her brow.

“I’m already carrying everything.” Hope says, looking down at me from her proud heights, breathing easily. “The only burden left is you, but I’m not sure I can manage that much as well.”

“For your information, I am very light, just rather awkward. In more ways than one…” I say, standing up and forcing myself to keep moving now that I’ve had a second to breath.

“You are, but I’m worse.” She replies. “I don’t understand how you handle people so well.”

“It’s easy most of the time. People just want an opportunity to talk about themselves. Keeping a few interesting stories in mind to fill empty silences, and everything’s easy. That’s with new people, at least.

“When people get to know me, it’s a little more difficult.” I say, “Oh, over there! That looks like a nice flower.”

“The mountain flowers?”

“No, but it is still pretty.” I reply.

I breath a sigh of relief as Hope removes her shovel and gets to work on pulling the flower from the earth.

It’s a strange little quest that we’ve been drawn into, and so soon after our journey has begun. Collecting flowers to trade to the fae in return for a little boys life?

It’s something out of a fairy tale, if we weren’t on a time crunch, I’d write a book about it.

“What if we don’t get the boy back?” I ask, “What if he’s lost to the fairies for good.”

Most of these stories don’t end happily, and I’m not sure about this one myself.

Hope pauses, her hand barely touching the flower before her. The pale white of its petals, almost like that of the virgin snow around us.

“We have to.” She replies, carefully placing the flower beside the others in the large pot that is erupting from her bag.

“Right…” I whisper looking down at my hands. They feel freezing even though it’s not really so cold here.

“Aren’t you the one who’s convinced that everything will turn out fine?” She asks, shouldering her bag.

“No. Mine is a selfish belief. I’m going to be fine, and for that to be true, the world itself has to be fine.” I say, looking up to the blue sky peeking through the thin canopy above me, then down to the ground beneath my feet. I can’t imagine it all gone, and I refuse to even try.

“So, you don’t think we can save the boy?” She asks, shifting the weight on her back before heading further up the hill. We have to keep climbing to find that road that Sara’s mother talked about.

“It depends on the fairies.” I say, thinking back to the playful little creatures. “Do you think they’re doing anything mean to him?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just can’t imagine them hurting him, tricking him into getting hurt maybe, but actually hurting him? I can’t see it.”

“You’d be surprised at what people can do to one another.” Hope says without turning back to me. “I’m not sure what you saw yesterday, but I didn’t see anything playful or kind. Don’t underestimate them.”

“You really couldn’t see a thing?” I ask, trying to catch up with her. She just steps quicker when I do.

“No.” She replies. “I couldn’t see a thing.”

“Is that a part of their magic?” I wonder, looking up the mountain.

“What was this flower meant to look like?” She asks, turning back to me.

“Tall, and large, with white and blue petals, and a centre filled with large seeds.” I say. Sara’s mother was more help than the fairies, who described it as a ‘a flower trying to imitate the sun’, whatever that means.

“Is that it there?” She asks, waving over to a flower that sits amidst the snow.

It stands about as tall as a small child and the flowerhead is like a sunflower’s but smaller and with pale white petals tinted blue at the edges. It smells like fresh, cool rain on a hot summer day.

“How are we meant to bring this to the fairies?” I ask, looking at it. The earth at its base is frozen, and the stalk seems tall enough that I’m sure we could break it all to easily while transporting it.

“Carefully.” Hope replies, her shovel already in hand as she circles the flower, marking the dirt around it where she’s going to start digging. “Let’s hope it’s roots are shallow.”

The snow and cold make it somewhat easier to put effort into things, but my burning legs prove that there’s limits to that. The sweat on my forehead is already feeling far too cold.

“Why don’t you believe in the perfect life that comes after?” Hope asks as she leans on her shovel and takes a moment to prepare herself. “Rather than trying to save the world, it seems a more reasonable delusion.”

“Could you stop calling it a delusion?” I ask, itching at my arms. I know it’s ridiculous, but how else am I supposed to say it. The world simply can’t end.

“Sorry.” She says, sounding truly contrite. “It’s just that religion seems to offer an easier and simpler solution, even if…”

“Even if it’s nonsense?” I ask, looking up to see Sanguine sitting there above us, looking down with a cool indifference.

“Yeah.” She replies.

“I don’t believe. I’ve tried to believe in the gods, and their plans and kindness, but I don’t feel it in my heart. I don’t have faith.”

“But you have faith that you’ll save the world?” She asks, giving me a strange look.

“Yes.” I reply, unable to find some way to pretty it up. “No? Maybe? I have faith that the world simply won’t disappear. That we can’t just die. That next year will come the same as tomorrow will.

“It just doesn’t make sense to me that it wouldn’t. So, something must happen to save the world.”

“You are a strange woman.” Hope says, slowly hefting the plant from the snow. “Now let’s get this thing to the fairies and get that child back.”

“Sure, we might even get it done today if Sara and her mum are happy to visit the forest again before tomorrow.” I say, lifting myself from the ground where I was sitting and following her as she treads a path around, trying to find the road down.

“I wouldn’t be too sure on that.” She replies, stepping around a heap of snow. “Her mother seems worried about the fae, and I can understand why.”

“They’re not that bad when you meet them.” I say, “Playful but I couldn’t see a sign of evil in them.”

“I can’t even see them at all, so why are you convinced that what you see is real?” She asks, stopping to meet my eyes just to carry the point. There’s a darkness lingering in her gaze, that the light just can’t cut through.

“They seem genuine.” I reply simply. “If there’s a trick to their words it feels like it’s a genuine one. I don’t think they’ll lie outright.”

“Just… don’t be so easy to trust.”

“Even you?” I ask.

“Even me.” She replies, touching the bag that’s so precious to her.

“Hope?” I ask, unable to get it out of my mind, perhaps it’ll mess things up between us, but I just can’t suppress my curiosity. “If you don’t mind my asking, what’s in the bag?”

She pauses, looking back at me, the darkness in her eyes more consuming that a moment ago. A shadow compared to the darkest midnight, where even the stars are covered in dark clouds.

She wet her lips, then pauses. Blinking, she looks away and starts marching again.

When I think that the question has been dropped from her mind, I hear her whisper.

“The meaning of my life.”