Perennial

[Santinka]

 

[Santinka]

Perennial
By Wynnidele

Peony sat on a stump reading an age-worn writ-petal. The paper pages were browned and peeled like chips of tree bark, for the hand print of Time’s master left nothing untouched forever. It was one of the few writ-petals still in legible condition. From an era when the great groves of old were lined with shelves after endless shelves, and even the long lived elves never finished reading every written word.
She placed a dark-walnut colored finger on the next page, delicately turning it over with a crisp crinkle, but in the quiet of night another sound reached her elfin ears as well. Then from the surrounding darkness a womanly shape became more apparent in the flicker of a candle’s flame. Peony took up and sipped a glass of tea which rested upon a table nearby. Only after her taste had been whetted did she then speak to her long time friend. "An'su Flora, Marigold."
The shadowed elf looked up on blue Flora, and said, "I fear she does not guide me this day, Peony." The orbed goddess, who had lit the winter sky for more days than was welcome, filled its final night this season. Marigold became aware at that moment of rubbing her hands together, partly for warmth and the other for nerves. Having forced herself to stop, she asked, "Are you almost done?"
Peony replied, "I only have a few pages left. Let me have five more minutes."
Marigold walked off to no place particular, merely not wanting to stand over the other’s shoulder. She fell into a dreaminess and absent-mindedly begun to pick leaves out of her flowered hair. Peony playfully scolded her about how doing that would leave a patchy crown. But Marigold paid no attention, and asked absently, "You almost done?"
"Five minutes! Five! I haven't even finished one page yet!" Peony yelled, but then shook her head with a broad smile. The younger girl didn't say anything, which was out of character, and the older demanded, "Speak, Marigold."
Marigold whispered, "Find me when you're done," and left without looking back.
Peony put the writ-petal on the table and moved to go after her, but then hesitated. To prune when not welcomed could prevent growth; it was for the ones who needed pruning, not the ones who would grow by themselves. The teachings of the Life Tree had given her insight into choosing the correct path. Of course, by then it was to late, and Marigold was gone.
Going back to her stump, Peony thought of how she should have stopped her, but knew there was nothing to be done now. She blindly reached for the writ-petal she had been reading, but her hand knocked over the tea she had poured moments before, and the liquid spread out across the table.
"So stupid," she scolded herself. Peony picked up the writ-petal that laid upon the table; the damage apparent. In a single act she had done what would have taken Time’s master a century to do.

***


Peony walked around to find her friend standing by a shelf, rearranging the writ-petals on it. It was unnecessary to do so, yet she knew that her friend would undoubtedly be here. A sharp glance from Marigold abruptly caught her off-guard, and in a quick breath said, "I'll leave if I'm bothering you."
"What happened to five minutes?" she said with a hint of humor. But little amusement shown in her appearance, however.
Peony held up the soaked writ-petal, but no comment came back. So she asked, "You wanted to speak with me?"
"I did, but I took care of it myself." The writ-petal trembled slightly in her hand, but she continued anyway. "I thank you for coming, though."
"Would you still like to tell me?"
"It's okay. The goddess Fauna helped me understand." Marigold looked up towards endless sky, and there a small ark of red had just peaked out from behind her blue sister, Flora.
"I can help you, too," she put in quickly, already grabbing a writ-petal from the shelf. "There's still time until the Renewal starts."
Long minutes passed with nothing more said, until Marigold stopped her work, staring hard at her friend. "We've known each other for a few years now, haven't we?"
"Your few years have been half my life. And to an elf, that means something," she said, giving a little chuckle, but was stopped when the other didn't laugh back.
Her voice softened to almost a whisper, as if to speak to herself alone, "You taught me as you had been taught. The same writ-petals you read, the same flower garden you tended, but I think I failed to learn something."
"I pruned you in to a proud tree that I am glad to have known," Peony said. Marigold said nothing more, merely continued moving writ-petals around. Peony wanted to say something, anything really, but the words would not come to her.
She had begun to thumb through a writ-petal she randomly picked off the shelf, and saw it was the journal of a gardener and his travels to see the renewal of a Life Tree. She flipped to the end to find blank pages. Apparently he tended it quickly, or not at all. It gave her a thought to say, but before she could get it out a floret found them.
The first morning of summer was to come soon.

***

Peony focused her view up at the new sprouts of the treetops and felt the last frost melt beneath her toes. As well, the twin goddesses, blue Flora and red Fauna, both had their beautiful celestial orbed forms high in the heavens. To a human this meant a turn of seasons, from the blue of winter to a summer’s red, but to an elf it was when new life began. The goddess sisters changed their places so a Life Tree could be born.
"Are you coming, Marigold?" Peony questioned.
"I'm not going with you." Marigold said, and stuck her fingers into the dirt, bringing new color to the dullness winter had left behind. "I'm a gardener, now."
An understanding look came over Peony then. In the shadow of longer and harsher winters, the young were often being sent to become gardeners of the woods, instead of florets surrounded by centuries of writ-words. "So there's the dark mood you've been in this night. I'm hurt you felt you couldn't tell me, or that I wouldn't understand." True, Peony was a floret who kept strictly to the old traditions, but was still upset that Marigold wait so long to speak. "There's no need to do this. You still have years of growth to live."
"Each life in the forest is tied to a tree." She picked a flower from her hair and gave it to her friend. "And I know I found mine."
"So, we all play our part in the leaves?" she questioned, walking closer to Marigold.
"Also, you'll need a good gardener to tend you." The night was getting steadily lighter, and Marigold finished the talk by saying, "You have to go."
Already assembled, several robed florets formed a circle within the clearing, and Peony went to take her place in it. After a time the Floweret skipped into the center of her florets. She was a woman wild like the woodlands, and feral as a tree-cat. She looked to each one in turn, and in silence affirmed what they were to do. When it came to Peony's turn, the Floweret took her hand and led her to the center.
The Floweret put her hands toward the sky and the rest followed promptly. And when she spoke, so the others echoed after.

“Fol'wanta sair, Flora
Lye-fir
Fol'wanta sair, Fauna
Lye-fir.”

Red Fauna rose high above the orchard, finally having took the sky from blue Flora, ending the winter time so summer’s could begin to shine. Peony was forced to squint as the first rays of red reached her, but the brightness had shown through even after closing her eyes tight. She continued to concentrate on keeping her inner focus, hearing the singing birds, and the wind as it blew passed her, along with flowing water in a river nearby.
Her concentration was slightly broken when the Floweret embraced her in a hug, and the woman whispered into her ear alone, "Ilya sia-te." The woman said no more words in these woods, for the Floweret turned to leaves in her arms.
As you come from the Lady Flora, Peony prayed in her mind, back to the Lady Fauna you shall return.
The florets continued the dawning by giving their voice to the forest, 'Ilya sia'wha', and all at once their bodies fell into a pile of leaves.
Peony stood in the center of the glade, and those leaves of the former florets lifted up upon an unseen breeze, and had come to swirl around her. Already her walnut skin grew rugged and coarse like bark, green-foliaged hair budded into many blossomed leaves, and then her feet rooted deep into the ground for a long stay. The Life Tree had been born in another renewal.
Peony took one last look at her long time friend Marigold, whom was with the other gardeners, and they stood ready to care for the new Life Tree. Peony wished she hadn't made her choice to be here, and yet, it felt good to know she would be.
At that same time two feminine voices, blue Flora and red Fauna, brushed upon her thoughts alone.
Little Peony. Come grow under the sun with us, and allow your seeds to grow into woods.  

[Santinka]

About the Author

My pen name is Wynnidele. I live in Wisconsin with my dog, Potter, and I work for a golf course doing grounds keeping. Reading books and writing are my top hobbies. The rest is a mystery, since most know me as the shy and quiet type.