Petals of the Moonflower.
~By Sweetdeily
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~By Sweetdeily
~~~
Once upon a time, or so these stories usually go, the Moon dropped her starlight pendant from her castle high above. The pendant fell through the stars and the sky, and down to the land below.
“What should I do?” The Moon lamented. It was her favourite starlight pendant that the Sun had given to her at the first dawn. Every dawn he would give her the pendant, and every dusk she would return it as proof of their never ending friendship.
“I have been to the land of men, Moon.” A simple flower spoke up from the Moon’s garden beneath her window. “Allow me leave to go down to the land below, and I will retrieve your pendant.”
“But, little flower, the land below is not always bathed in night. If your petals feel the touch of the daylight sky, you will surely perish!”
“Then I will simply avoid touching the daylight sky, Moon. I can return your most precious pendant.” The flower said.
“Oh simple flower, in the land below a flower cannot walk or search as a man. If you cannot move, how will you find my treasure?” Said the Moon.
“Wise Moon, turn me into the body of a woman, so that I will be as beautiful as my name, with legs and arms to find your most precious gift.”
“If you go down to the land below as a woman, sweet flower, you may fall for a man*, and never return to my garden.”
“Oh troubled Moon, no gardener in the land below is as gentle as your hand. No light as soothing as your grace. I need no love but my love for you, Moon.”
Touched by the flower’s words, the Moon sent the flower to the world below, where man lived. To man, the flower was known as Chiya. In their language, it was a Moonflower. The Moon cautioned her pretty flower, for time passed in the Moon’s kingdom differently to the way in which it passed down below, and the flower had only until the third full moon of her stay in the land below to find the pendant. If she could not find it before then, the Moon would be forced to tell the Sun that she had lost her most precious possession. And the Moon would be very angry with the flower for wasting her gifts.
~.~
The flower fell down to the land below, where man walked and lived and as the flower fell she transformed into a woman with hair like silver stars, eyes the greenest of stalks and skin as pale as the first frosts of winter. Dressed in the attire of a moonchild she fell into a lake, near the city known as Bri’merc. To this day, night fishers swear that they sometimes see the falling flower as she transforms from a simple flower into a woman on her way down to earth.
Chiya was immediately beset upon with trouble, for flowers cannot swim, and so she sank into the water of the lake. However, moonflowers are friends of the sea flowers, and a stray coral flower called out to the fish of the lake to bear Chiya to the shore.
A thousand small silver fish rushed to the moonflower’s aid and carried her to the shore of the lake, some sacrificing their own lives to ensure that the flower was safely out of the water.
It was on the shore of the lake of Bri’merc that the moonflower was resuscitated by a passing sorcerer and our true story begins.
The sorcerer’s name was Oran, and while he was quite a powerful magic user, he had been blinded some years ago in a battle against another wielder. He lived alone in a small house just outside the city, but had been prone to travelling near the lake at night. At first Oran was confused by the sounds of the fish crying out, and why so many sea creatures had swam so far out of water. But then he heard the coral of the lake calling out, “please, save the moonflower! She has drank too much of the lake!”
Oran found the Moonflower and turned her on her side. Soon enough Chiya coughed out the water of the lake, and began to draw breathe once again.
“Tell me, strange girl, why you were swimming in the lake at night?”
“I was not swimming in the lake, man. I fell into the lake from the moon.”
“You cannot fall from the moon, silly girl. It is in the land of the gods, and no mortal of flesh and blood can live there.”
Chiya looked upon this knowledgeable blind man and felt pity that he knew much, but she knew that it would not be wise to say more on the matter. “I must find a dark place to rest for the day, do you know a location I can be safe from the light of the sun?”
“Why would you hide from the sun, strange girl?”
“My skin is quite fair, and my eyes quite weak. Should I stand in the sunlight, I would perish.”
“Very well, falling girl. I will bring you to my home. I am blind and have no need of sunlight inside, so the curtains are always drawn. My house is very dirty though, because I cannot clean the things that I cannot see. But I still have some pride, so if you stay in my home, I will not ask for your coin, but I ask that you clean what you can.”
“This is agreeable to me, but I will not stay in the home of a man whose name I do not know.”
“My name is Oran, and I am a worker of magic. If you try to steal from me, I shall place a curse upon you.”
“Very well Oran. I am moonflower... but to man I am Chiya. If you should try and plant me in your garden, I shall cry to the Moon, and she shall curse you.”
And so the blind sorcerer showed the fallen moonflower to his home. He cooked a humble stew for her, and bid her goodnight. The moonflower cleaned the man’s house while he slept through the night, and the next day he awoke to smell a delicious broth in his kitchen. A bowl was set at the table for him, and fresh flowers had appeared on his windowsill. The blind man found Chiya asleep in the pantry of his kitchen, and when he opened the door, she cried out. “The light is too bright! I must sleep in the dark, please close the door.”
So Oran left Chiya to sleep and for the first time in months, he opened his doors to let customers into his home. For he had been ashamed of his unclean house, that he could not show to others, for he could not clean himself. He was at once very beset by neighbours and townsfolk who had need of his magical potions and affectations. And all the while, the townsfolk spoke of the flower that had fallen from the moon in the night. And the fish that a fishmonger had found in the morning. But Oran said nothing of his new guest. He took notes and money all day, and when it was midday; he went to the bakery and bought two loaves of honey bread. But Chiya did not emerge from the pantry until the sun had left the sky and the last customers hurried home.
“You slept through the whole day, Chiya. I went and brought fresh bread, but it is cold now.”
“Thank you for buying the bread.” Said the moonflower. “But I do not know how to eat it.”
The sorcerer was confused by this and proceeded to show Chiya how to eat food and asked her. “If you did not know how to eat, how did you make the stew for my breakfast?”
“Oh, that was in one of the cooking books in the kitchen. I asked the herbs in the garden how to measure the quantities, and I used the fire in the kitchen to boil the water.”
“You are a very strange girl. But I feel fortuitous that we have met. Please, tell me if there is anything you need of me. I am a great sorcerer. I can create a spell to give you money, or great beauty.”
“I have no need of beauty or money.” Chiya said.
“Or I could make a steed that never tires. Build you a house from trees into a castle.” He said.
“I do not need a horse or a house.”
“I could make you charms to keep warm in the coldest winter, create priceless jewellery to decorate your slim neck, I can find lost relatives or items. Topple mountains—and you want nothing I can offer?”
“I have but one need and wish, Oran the sorcerer. I must find the Moon’s starlight pendant. It is a pendant that was tempered in the fire of the dawn and smelted from the dusk, cooled in the forever shadows and holds captive a fledgling star’s light. Liquid moonlight makes the chain and pure sunlight streams from the jewel. If you can help me find this treasure of my mistress, I would do anything.”
“Your wish is but to find a single precious jewel of another? Nothing for yourself?”
Chiya, the patient flower explained, “My mistress is both kind and strong. She has always nurtured me as a seedling and cared for my needs as a pod. I grew in a dark place , her light was the only soothing light I could stand. When I bloomed, she took me from the darkness to her kingdom and the nightsky became my solace. She smiled down upon my petals and her light fed me and kept me safe. It is only natural that I do what I can to help her in some way. This is the best way for me to help her- by finding what she has lost.”
Oran was awed by Chiya’s story and agreed to help her. “Very well, I will help you find the starlight pendant. What you do with it then, is up to you.” At length he rose from his seat. “It will take me three days to complete this task. Will you stay as a guest in my home until then?”
The moonflower agreed and together they stayed late into the night. Oran asked the moonflower many questions about herself and the land of the sky. They drank sweet wine and when the rays of the morning sun crested the horizon, Chiya fled to the pantry to sleep.
That day Oran went to town and collected herbs and ingredients for his craft. He was greeted kindly by the folk of the town. The folk were glad of Oran’s magic practice re-opening as for several years the folk had survived on the services offered by the sorcerer Chang, whose magic was not as powerful as Oran’s, nor his manner well-suiting or his hand kind.
Oran and Chang the sorcerers had a long and unloving past. They had once been childhood friends, but that friendship had turned bitter for Chang as he grew in Oran’s shadow. Soon when they were young men, they had a competition of skills, and Chang cheated, using foul tricks to beat Oran and maim his eyes. Because Oran was sympathetic to Chang’s feelings, he refused to take retribution, and lived in the other man’s shadow from then on. Some had even forgotten than Oran was by far the better sorcerer, as he no longer displayed his powers as grandly as Chang did. Many more knew that Chang would forever take advantage of Oran’s kindness.
Oran spent the day making rounds in the town, and speaking with the folk of the commons before it was well dark and he returned to his home.
As he came down the path that led to his house, Oran heard two voices in his garden. The first was soft and sweet, like the tinkling of tiny chimes in the wind. That voice was Chiya the moonflower. The second voice was arrogant like a dog always barking at its owner. That voice was Chang the sorcerer’s.
“You are as beautiful as a white peach blossom. Your eyes are as deep as the green ocean, your hair is like a halo of white snow petals- but why does a jewel stay in such a dirty home? A blind man cannot appreciate your beauty. Look at how filthy your silk and velvet dress has become! You should leave the shambling blind Oran and stay with me, pretty gem.”
Immediately the eavesdropping Oran was beset with emotions that he could scarcely contain. Jealousy, rage and sadness; for he had no eyes to see that his guess needed a bath, nor could he know the expression of dismay upon her face. He felt angry that Chang dared approach his home and talk with his guest- whom Oran had saved and taken in. And furious that Chang dared to try and steal his kind guest away- would Chang not be happy until he had taken everything from Oran?
“I am more beautiful than a white peach blossom.” Chiya said. “For the peach is crude and round and my petals are long and delicately shaped. My eyes cannot be the green of the ocean, for they are the deepest green of field’s under the light of stars and darkness. A blossom to the Moon herself I am, and no flower that lives in the light of the sun can know my beauty. You are a foolish man to say that dirt is marring my radiance, for no flower can live without dirt upon its shell! I am no gem, made from rocks and found in dark caves! As for the house, I have cleaned and weeded both inside and out. You will find no dust or vermin, nor rotting fruits or soiled clothing. Can you say as such for your own dwelling?”
Warmth spread through Oran’s chest as he listened to Chiya speak. A strange feeling that he had not felt in a long time. he had at first believed her simple, but a flower of the moon was not so easily taken in by pretty words, it seemed, and even a simple woman had her pride!
But Oran was quickly concerned, as he knew that Chang would love the challenge of a woman such as Chiya, and soon would speak of his large house and many servants. So it was before Chang could say any more that Oran rushed down the lane, his walking cane moving from the dirt to Chang’s ankle.
“Oh, I am sorry master Chang, but you seem to be blocking my gate.”
“You bumbling blind fool! Your cane has gotten mud all over my silk shoes!” Chang yelled, but Oran was too fast, while Chang vented his anger, the blind sorcerer slipped passed his gate and closed it behind him.
Chiya moved from where she had been standing in the tuber garden and took the bundles that Oran carried. She twirled around in a whiff of garden smells and headed to the house in front of Oran.
At once, Chang called out. “I will come again in the morning, pretty flower, and I will tell you more of myself. You will see that I am a better man than Oran!”
His remark hurt Oran’s pride and the blind sorcerer slammed the door. Before he could speak he found that his guest was helping him to remove his coat and the scent of spiced meat and rice drifted from the kitchen.
“Please explain to me dear sorcerer, something that has bothered me all evening.” Chiya spoke quietly as she lead Oran toward the food.
Oran sat in the kitchen and found himself famished. At once he began to eat. “I think we must wash tonight, Chiya. Even if it is not a bathing night, I cannot have your clothing dirty in my home.”
“But I do not need any water on my head. In this form I take nutrients through my mouth- as you showed me yester-night.”
“Not that sort of washing. Our hair and bodies should be cleaned so that people do not mistake us for moles.” Oran explained.
Chiya made a face, as flowers did not like moles much at all. “Very well. Will you answer my question then?”
“What question have you for me?”
“When I was weeding at the first onset of dark, a man stopped to give me a dead red peony he said paled to my beauty. Then in the kitchen as the workers from the town were returning home, three men saw me cooking and called over the gate that my hands were ill suited to handling wooden shafts-“ Oran spluttered at this but Chiya continued, “-and just now in the garden, this man who says he is an old friend of yours, insults me so openly! Why do these men act so cruelly? I am a moonflower; I should be pale of petal, light of skin, with bright spots to attract the night-insects. But they bully me so! Where I am from, I am the most beautiful flower in the garden, and yet they compare me to common, ugly flowers that have no symmetry or mystery. My question is this; why do the men act so cruelly to me?”
At once Oran began to laugh, for he suddenly understood the words of men would never truly reach a woman’s heart. Words alone failed, a man had to prove himself with his actions. For he could not see, he had not compared his strange guest to something that seemed unfavourable in her eyes.
As they went to bathe in the bathhouse on top of the hill, Oran explained that since most men could not know that Chiya was a moonflower, rare and beautiful to the moon, they could not compare her to things that the night found beautiful, they used what men could use to tell her their feelings.
At length Chiya began to understand, much to Oran’s discomfort. She was brushing sweet smelling oils through Oran’s hair in the large hot spring, and she lathered his hair as she spoke. “They are expressing a desire to covert me to their gardens!” The emotion was clearly outrage in her voice. “Steal me up like some common daisy!”
“Your grip is hurting my hair-“ Oran begged a moment. To no avail.
“Well! The audaciousness! I was warned by the Moon that many men would wish such things. But if they think that I would fall for such attempts, they are sorely mistaken. A delicate flower such as I, can only blossom with a gardener who is both tender and strong. Men have no chance of winning me over with their words.”
Oran felt himself becoming flustered and he moved away from Chiya. They finished bathing in silence and returned to his home. Oran slept while Chiya washed her clothing.
In the morning Oran opened up his practice once more and was beset by many customers. Toward mid-morning however, Chang knocked upon his door.
“Oran, old friend, where is the beautiful girl that you had doing your cooking this evening gone?”
“I cannot tell you where she is at the moment, for she rests and it would be indecent for a man to disturb her at such a time.”
“But she promised to see me this morning!” Chang said.
“I do not think that Chiya made any such promises to you.” Oran said. “But... if you must speak with her once more. Then come again in the evening, when the light of dusk has fallen. She will be here.”
Chang left and Oran returned to his work, not entirely happy that he had told Chang to return. But Oran felt confident that Chiya would not be swayed by Chang’s words or poetry.
When night fell, Oran showed Chiya to his study where he had began the preparations to find the pendant of starlight. “Tomorrow night I will cast the spell that will show us where the pendant is located, so it is important that you be here.”
“Why would I go anywhere else?”
“Soon the sorcerer Chang will invite you to his home, I know that my house is not as nice as his, nor do I have servants to wait upon you.”
“And you think that I will go with the sorcerer Chang to his home?”
“It is only normal. Any woman would want such an opportunity.”
The moonflower looked at Oran and gently took his chin in her hands. “You are afraid that I will like his garden more than yours. And yet you are unwilling to provoke his skills. You are kind to him, but not to yourself, Oran.”
At that time there was a knocking on the door and Chiya left the kitchen to answer it.
“Pretty flower, I came in the morning, but your host turned me away. Were you ill?”
“I do not dare the sun’s wrath, especially not for a man such as you.”
“Have I done something to upset you, glorious flower?”
“You are a silly man. And I am not looking for a gardener. Tell all the men that might think me such a cheap common flower that I do not need to be bothered by talk of their gardens. When my business is done with Oran, I will leave this place and go back to my own garden. You cannot tempt me with your offers, and it is a waste of my time to let your insulting attempts fall upon my ears.”
And with that she shut the door in Chang the sorcerer’s face. A woman’s scorn such as her’s, he had surely never known.
That night she cooked vegetables and rice for Oran and they spoke of the mundane world. Chiya left him to his bed in the night and ventured into the garden.
The moon was mourning the loss of her pendant and the sky was overshadowed with gray clouds.
Suddenly the garden cried out the presence of an intruder and a man grabbed Chiya around the waist.
Chiya let out a shout, unthinking, she did not call to the moon for help. “Oran!”
The sorcerer came awake at once and heard the sounds of a scuffle in his garden. He heard the plants cry out. “Save the kind moonflower!” and their voices helped him to find Chiya and the man who assaulted her.
With a thunderous cry the sky opened up and a bolt of lightning struck down, commanded by Oran’s hand to strike the man attacking Chiya.
With a scream the man retreated and threw up a shroud around himself, disappearing into the night.
Oran rushed to Chiya’s side as she fell to the ground and pulled her shaking form into his arms. “Are you alright?”
Chiya shook for a time, tears running down her face. “I was overcome with nerves and tingles! Oran, I felt as though I would explode with all these emotions. It was terrible.”
“I meant the man grabbing you, poor thing.” He hid his gasp of laughter at bay.
“Oh, he smelled of rich spices and magic. But he is gone now.” She reached out and gripped Oran’s arm. “You were quite scared?”
“Yes. I was worried that he was trying to take my petals out, he was pulling so hard on me!” She exhaled and frowned. “But you saved me... thank you Oran. This is the second time that you have saved me.”
Heat wound its way up Oran’s face and he stood stiffly. “You called out for me.” He said before he ran back inside.
Chiya sat in the garden for a few moments. Frowning to herself. “Yes, I did call to you, sorcerer.” And she was troubled by that.
The next day was twice as busy for Oran. He had little time to wonder who might have attacked Chiya in the night, for he had a steady stream of clients the whole day long, word of his business reopening had spread fast, and word of his reclusive guest had also spread. Several of the workers who lived near Oran had seen the pretty Chiya, and sang her praises all day. By nightfall Oran was exhausted and he had fallen asleep in his sitting room. He was roused from his sleep by the smell of mint and green leaf tea. And soon a weight settled beside him. “You had a very busy day. Should you not conduct your business away from your home, so that people will not poke through your garden?”
“Perhaps I will.” Oran agreed.
Shortly they went to his workroom where his preparations were finished for the spell to locate the moon’s pendant and Oran cast his magics outward.
There was a golden orb in the centre of the magic patterns, and it began to glow. An image of a dark forest appeared, and a great beast with red eyes that guarded a bright pendant in its nest.
“This forest is many days travel, Chiya.” Oran told her, knowing the place for the magic showed him the same images in his mind as well as on the orb.
“It does not matter. I must retrieve the pendant.”
“And what of the creature that guards the pendant?”
“I will find a way to lure it away and snatch the pendant.”
Oran sighed. “I will go with you.”
Chiya said nothing for a time, merely regarded the man with the eyes of a flower. Finally she turned and went to the kitchen to make sweet rice cakes.
The man troubled Chiya. She had been so confident in telling the Moon that she would never fall into another’s garden. But now she found herself protected by a man from the problems of men. Oran was not like the Moon. The Moon could see everything in the night sky and was at times one thing and then another, for the Moon changed and was not held prisoner to one form, unlike the mortals. But Oran was kind like the Moon, and strong. He could do many things that the Moon could do; touching her head and smoothing dirt from her hands. But more than that, he had a need of her that the Moon did not. Once she returned the pendant, the Moon would be done with Chiya, and she would return to the garden, a flower. Oran would need a new guest in his flowerbed. And no weed was as pretty as Chiya. Otherwise his house would get dirty.
Chiya did not want to think about dirty houses. They were dwellings that a flower should not be concerned with. She wanted to think about the Moon. But she couldn’t help but think about Oran when she tried to think of the Moon. Oran was alike but not alike the Moon and Chiya knew that she could not feel for a man, for men were not as wonderful as the Moon.
The next night they prepared to travel. The forest was several days away, and Oran explained that they would need to take a cart with a thick blanket for Chiya to hide from the sun under. Oran would make an enchantment to make sure that the cart and blanket would be dark enough for her to be safe from the sun.
The following day, Oran gathered supplies and explained to the folk that he would be gone for a few days.
At the dusk of the night, they set off to travel. The first night was the easiest to travel, and Oran slept much of the night away. They had found a man willing to part with an old horse, and the horse drew the cart that Oran had kept in his barn. Oran was not rich, but he was able to afford a loan of the horse for a few nights.
When Chiya slept, Oran drove the cart through the day. On the second day, they turned to a trail that was little used and by nightfall the moonlight was the only guide on the landscape.
“Tell me, Chiya, have you ever fallen in love?” Oran asked the flower.
“I fell in love with the Moon.” Chiya said.
“I mean with a man.”
“No. Never with a man. A flower has no need to love a man.”
“But now you are not a flower.” Oran spoke.
“No. Now I am not.” Chiya looked out at the night time landscape. “But I am not like the women of man. I am still part flower of the Moon. I cannot touch the light of day, nor can I look as pink or have hair as dark as a woman of man.”
Oran did not say another word for the whole night, and Chiya fell silent too.
When dawn came they stopped to rest the horse and Oran caught Chiya’s hand as she stepped under the blanket of the cart. Without a word, he pulled the moonflower to his embrace and burned her lips with a kiss before the dawn stole the flower from him.
It would not be the first time that the light would take Chiya from his grasp.
That night they did not speak at all, nor did they travel. They sat in silence, trying their hardest not to broach the inevitable.
The next night they travelled and talked of the land and of the sky.
When they came to the forest that bordered the small town known as Hese, they left the horse and cart with the local tea house owner and travelled on foot.
The forest was known by the locals as home to a terrible beast that was both lion, dragon and bear. The head of a dragon, the body of a lion and the claws and strength of a bear. It was said that the beast had inhabited the murky Ceylon cedar forest since a time before men had built their homes nearby. The creature was reputed to snort fire from its nose and the locals named it the Chipakabura. Many hunters had sought its pelt and many had died before even facing the Chipakabura.
The forest homed dancing spirits who lured men to a watery death in the lakes and river beds. Poisonous flowers that spat venom upon the unwary, and a herd of giant, raging boars with tusks as strong as tempered swords, who could gut a man in seconds. The trees were so thick and closely knit that the day was turned to night in all but the most forceful of clearings, and the forest floor was so thick with leaves and branches that a man could fall to his knee amid dirt and filth. The thick canopy of trees blotted out even the light of the stars, but for a blind man and a moonflower, darkness was hardly an obstacle.
Deep in the forest was a cave, and from within the cave, a great growling sound issued forth, the sound of the beast that guarded the fallen starlight pendant. Or so this was the path before them that the golden orb showed.
Chiya and Oran followed the orb for hours, falling time and again in thick hollows. Eventually exhaustion forced them to rest their aching muscles. Chiya gathered mushrooms and made a broth with rice from the town and the fruits of the forest.
“If men fear this realm so much, why do they live so close to it?”
“This world in a small place and men must take land where they find it. Chiya, as a flower you must understand the need for a piece of earth that your roots can grow in without fear of weeds or other plants taking it from you?”
She did and asked no more of the topic.
The forest was so dark that when the sun broke the horizon, the moonflower need not fear its rays, for the night had not fled the trees of the Hese forest. It was the first time that Oran might have seen Chiya in a warm light, not the paleness of the moon or the half-shadows of a flame. But he could not know what her face was like in any light. A great despair had struck the sorcerer.
“Chiya, surely your mistress would grant you a wish for finding her most treasured gift?”
“Perhaps, but I seek no wish or boon for my efforts.” The moonflower replied.
“What would you ask for, if you were gifted any one thing in your mistress’ power to grant?”
Chiya was silent for a long time before she stopped walking and turned to Oran, surprised to see tears falling from the cloth that hid his ruined eyes. She placed a hand upon the sorcerer’s shoulder and carefully removed the cloth, taking in the sharp handsome features of his face and the silent beseechment of his eyes. She stood on the tips of her toes, for Oran was taller than the moonflower, and gently, Chiya kissed his eyelashes, stealing the tears from him until he gripped her waist fiercely and pressed the moonflower into the side of a tree, capturing her softness in his desperate need.
“You know that I am a flower, turned to a woman. But my mistress is no sorcerer or earthly conjurer. My mistress is the Moon herself, and I was sent down from her place to search for the starlight pendant. I imagine that when I hold it in my hand, I will be lead once again, back to the Moon’s garden.” And now tears brimmed in Chiya’s eyes for she had realized that she too could not bear the truth of the matter. “Where I will be safe in her soft light, and never fear the sun, or drown in the rivers, or walk on aching legs, or speak of things that do not concern flowers.”
“Please, Chiya... do not find the Moon’s pendant.” Oran begged. “Never find it! Leave it in this forest of night, in a dark cave guarded by spirits of ages past! Exile yourself from the Moon. Let another find her treasure!”
Chiya silenced the sorcerer with her lips and at length spoke again. “I made a promise to my first love, Oran. The Moon would weep if her pendant were not returned. And her tears would enrage the Sun, and the night would weep stars and clouds upon the land, and the sun would bake the fields, and destroy the forests, and all the world would be engulfed in the fury of the gods.” She touched Oran’s chin. “I cannot be so selfish, though loathsome flower I might be- that I bloom only for a Moon and a man who cannot see.”
Oran wiped his tears from his eyes and left Chiya standing against the tree while he strode after the golden orb. At length she followed him, knowing that his heart was surely crushed. But she could comfort him with but words. And words to a flower are nothings.
Abruptly the peaceful forest was cut with a shrill woman’s scream. Oran turned to chiya immediately and together they dashed as fast as they dared through the leaves—before a sudden thinning of trees forced Chiya to stop. “I dare not go forth, Oran. You will have to find a path without me.”
Oran hesitated but another scream came from the clearing ahead and so he moved into the light, leaving Chiya in the safety of the night.
The sound of a bubbling brook was the first to enter his hearing as the sorcerer burst into the clearing. He heard the heavy breath and snort of a beast, and reacting swiftly, for his life was most suddenly in danger, he stepped aside, a blow from a boar as big as he glancing past him. The stench of carrion and moss wafted off the boar and Oran held out his hand where the beast had passed. Flame poured from his fingertips, blasting the beast.
The boar squealed as the flames consumed its hide, and presently the beast fell to the forest floor- dead.
“Oh brave soul! You have saved me from the jaws of death.” A woman called from closer to the water that flowed through the clearing.
Oran turned slowly, feeling his way toward her, moments later she stepped to his arm, wrapping cold wet fingers across his elbow. “Please, sit a moment and regain your vigor, good sir. You struck down the boar so quickly that it burned!”
Oran listened to the sounds of the clearing, the birds were quiet here. “Why are you alone in this treacherous forest?”
“I was picking wild flowers with my sister and wandered off, we were to meet here at midday, but then a boar attacked me! I feel faint, would you get me a drink of fresh water from the spring just here?”
Oran touched the woman’s wrist, finding it too was wet and smelled of river reeds. “Your voice tells me that you must have recently suffered a sickness, for your words croak and groan.”
“Oh, yes.” The woman coughed. “Perhaps you could bring me a cold cloth wet with water?”
“And your hands are cold and wet; you must have slipped in moss as you ran.” Oran continued, a vague smile upon his features.
“Yes, but see my gown is so clean and pretty still?”
“Oh, it must be spotless like your skin, I imagine.”
“Not so, there is mud upon the hem—will you not get me some water from the stream to clean it with?” She pressed a clammy cloth into Oran’s hand. “Here, this handkerchief can be wet.”
Oran stood and took a step toward the brook, listening to the hiss of laughter with his sharp ears and he spoke to the woman. “Oh, one other thing, fair maid...”
“Oh, and what is that?”
“Your eyes, they do not see so well outside of water, I imagine?”
“How did you know that!?” She cried.
Oran raised his hand and a blast of fire hit the water spirit, burning her to ashes. “Because you cannot tell that I am also blind.”
Oran stood in the clearing for a moment, two of the horrors of the forest defeated. He knew that he should be happy, but victory tasted bitter to him.
As he returned to Chiya she touched his cheek gently, pressing her cool body against his. “Please do not cry, Oran.”
Even though tears had not spilled from his eyes, Oran knew that the flower could see his true emotions.
They journeyed on a ways. In the forest of forever night, it was hard to tell how much time had passed.
“I smell a sweetness on the breeze,” Oran stopped by a small bush and bent to touch the flowers growing there. “Ah, a sweet flower, perhaps we can make something with it?”
Before he could touch a petal, Chiya grabbed his hand and stayed him. “There is no sweetness in that blossom. It is as cold and hating as a snake in the winter frosts. I know this flower well, for it is like a weed that would strangle any rose or lily that grew too close.”
No sooner had she spoken that the flower’s bud opened and it made a sharp sucking noise, long sharp barbs appearing in its petals. Chiya knocked Oran aside as the barbs flew out.
“Are you hurt?” Oran gasped, knowing that she had suffered a hit.
Chiya pulled the sharp barb from her thigh and tossed it to the ground. “The venom of this flower is deadly to man. I am a flower.” She staggered. “Still, perhaps we should rest and bathe a moment while I fight the toxins.”
They made their way to a clearing, finding a small waterfall and pool of cold water in which to wash the worries of the trip from their flesh. Chiya asked Oran to hold her hair while she washed her face, and soon her skin felt no more the feverish. Naked in the river, gazing at a few stray stars in the sky, the moonflower spoke.
“I wish with all my heart that I could abandon my quest and remain with you, but even flowers have their honour- Oran.”
Oran pulled Chiya against his chest and whispered a dark promise into her ear. “Then I will strip you of all honour.”
When the night was lost and the sun topped the trees of the forest, they moved deeper into the forest again, soon coming across a large cave from within a terrible sound echoed. As they drew closer to the sound the Chipakabura emerged from its lair and addressed them.
“You have done well to come so far into my forest, it seems you seek something in this forest. Speak now, and I might be swayed by your fate.”
“We come seeking the Moon’s own treasure.” Chiya said.
“There is no moonlight in my forest!”
“Not of moonlight or sunlight is this treasure. It is much too small for that.”
“Then it is not something that a man cannot move?”
“Oh, a man could pick up the Moon’s treasure as easily as a beast or spirit, for it light and shines in the darkest of caves.”
“Then the Moon has abandoned such a treasure, and you search for it why?”
“The Moon has not abandoned her treasure, she dropped it carelessly one day. Will you not return the treasure of which we speak?”
The chipakabura roared. “I know of the treasure you speak, for it has come to be my treasure now. And I shall not return it!”
“This is Oran, a great sorcerer of men, if you should not return the Moon’s treasure, then I will ask him to do battle with you.”
The beast was afraid, for it had never faced a sorcerer who could make it through the dangers of the forest, nor a flower who journeyed from the kingdom of the Moon. But it was a strong beast, and had never been defeated in all its long years. And so it joined Oran the sorcerer in battle.
And what a battle it was! The beast’s breath burned rock and tree, and its tail lashed dirt and blood. The ground trembled as it roared and the sky itself shook.
And from the clouds the sorcerer drew ice and snow, from the earth he cast bolts of crystal and ropes and vines. He drew gusts of wind into tornado’s and bolts of lightning to destroy the behemoth’s limbs and then. The battle raged for hours until finally, the old Chipakabura wearied as the night began.
The land around the beast’s cave had become little more than rubble and dirt, and the Moon could see right down into the clearing. Heaving, the Chipakabura roared, but Oran the sorcerer did not abate his assault and momentarily Oran thrust forth a great bolt of energy, skewering the creature upon the magic as though a blade.
The forest fell silent as the blind sorcerer brought forth his victory, and at once he called out, breathlessly for the moonflower.
For a painstaking moment, Oran heard no reply, and then from the entrance of the beast’s lair, came Chiya’s voice- trembling and fair.
“Oh sweet sorcerer, you have felled the dark beast?”
“Yes. With sweat and blood I have fought the creature. My hands are soaked in dirt and blood, my back blistered with fire and splinters of felled trees.”
He felt the moonflower’s cool hands upon his face and relief sagged through the sorcerer. He collapsed, exhausted into her arms, unable to move any further. “Oh sweet Chiya, there is a terrible cold metal object upon your breast.”
“I found the pendant of starlight inside the beast’s cave.”
And he could not cry for he had no strength to even cling to his beloved flower. His weak fingers could not grip her cloak as she stood, and his lips could not utter a plea as she pulled away from him. The sorcerer Oran despaired.
The moonflower called Chiya despaired. For in the sky, the moon hung round and full, and as she held forth the Moon’s pendant she cried out.
“Beloved Moon! Gentle Moon! I have found your lost pendant! This troublesome flower has found your most precious gift.”
And from the Moon, a vestige of her presence descended, cloaked in starlight, wreathed in night like velvets, the vestige spoke to the flower. “Beloved flower, so precious in my garden you have grown! Upon your crown is many blessings and many thanks for you have returned my lovely gift. Why then do you say that you are troublesome? Why then does the flower of my grace cry?”
“I cry dear Moon for I have lost my way to your garden. I cry dear mother and father for it has come as you feared; this silly flower has fallen in love with a man!”
At length the vestige of the moon fell silent. “My troubled flower, you have fallen in love with a man, and now you cry for you must leave this land below?”
And Chiya fell to her knees in the ash and wept. “Dear Moon- this loathsome flower cannot bear to leave the man of this land.”
“I cannot bring a flower to my garden that will not grow- for surely a flower struck by love will wither and die if I remove it from the possession of its love!”
“Oh Bright Moon! Grant me but one wish. For I am selfish and young and foolish.”
“Sad flower, your wish is to remain as the body of this place? To remain with the man that has tamed your roots?”
And at once Chiya realized that the Moon was not uncaring, and in fact quite kind, for her wish was granted.
Elated and bidding the Moon’s vestige goodbye, Chiya was given but one caution. “Dear Chiya, as you are always a flower that only blooms in darkness, you must never touch the light of day. Nor either may any seeds you bare take sight of the light of the sun for longer than a few hours. This will make it hard for you to lead the life of a normal man.”
“I will endure anything that I must for the man that I love.”
“Ah,” said the vestige of the Moon, “that is sweet.”
And so it was that Oran woke to the smell of cooking meats, and he found that Chiya had washed and dressed his wounds. And they ate wild fruits and mushrooms and the tender meats of the beast that Oran had slain. And they talked of their future and the happiness that they and their children would know.
And so it was that they came from the forest of cursed creatures and unnatural plants, and they journeyed back to the land of light and darkness, back to the house that Oran owned. And they were happy. A few days later they wed in the garlands of night blossoms and the light of the silver moon, and many of the villagers were envious of Oran’s beautiful bride, and his happiness.
But none so envious of their joy than Chang the sorcerer. For he stole away at the first rays of dawn upon the night of the new couple’s marriage and knocked three times at the door. When Oran, tired and sleepy answered, Chang immediately grabbed him at his collar.
“You think to make a fool of me?”
“Chang, why are you here? I am a newly married man- time for well wishing is passed.”
“I do not wish you well, Oran the blind! I intend to duel you, and this time I will kill you and take your grieving widow for my own!”
“Chang, you must not joke of such things, for I will not permit such talk of my wife.”
It was then that Chiya called out from the house. “Oran, where are you?”
The rays of the sun beat down upon the world, sending the garden in hues of pink and orange, and the sun dawned across the horizon. “I am in the garden, Chiya. Sorcerer Chang has challenged me to a duel so that he might steal you after I am dead.”
At once Chiya ran toward the garden, but halted by the window, for she could see the light coming. “Oran! At once you must know that sorcerer Chang has brought two men with him, they bare swords and stand silently at the side of the house and garden gate!”
Presently the men began to fight, but sorcerer Chang knew where Oran was weak, and struck out, driving Oran to his knees in the garden.
From in the house, Chiya let out a yell and rushed to Oran’s side.
And that is the story of poor blind Oran the sorcerer. Who married a moonflower, found the Moon’s pendant, and died alone many years later. For it is also the story of Chiya the moonflower, who went to the land below and fell in love with a man. Who married her love, lived a few days in happiness, and died for want of heeding the Moon’s warning.
No sooner had Chiya dashed into the garden- her hands reaching for Oran’s fallen shoulder, when the rays of the sun melted her clothing and her skin. The moonflower burst into stardust and a thousand strands of life and magic. Her essence exploded across the garden, and the dust of her life stung at Oran’s uncovered eyes; bringing tears and sight to his world. And then nothing remained of her but dust.
They say that she never cried out, that she did not even seem to feel any pain, such was her focus for her sad love. But Oran the sorcerer cried out. His cry tore through the heavens, his anguish darkened the skies and he unleashed dark sorceries upon the land. The town that was his home was rent from end to end; a great crater marring the land where Oran spent his wrath. Spirits and demons of vile nature’s surged from planes best unknown, and thousands died in the wake of his grief.
And the place where he rested in agony and hate was known as Oran’s Wrath.
No man dares go there. For a fool to lose what he holds most desperately to has no need of any other.
~The End.
*To the Moon and the Flower, there was no distinction of sexes, as the moon was ever changing and the flower also acted as both, but they understood the people below were different, however they most often referred to these people as ‘man’ for ‘man’ was a lesser being, named simply to the spirits.
