Fallen Roses

A gentle whisper drew her to the front entrance. Unaccustomed to fear she opened a door ornately carved with resting dragons surrounding a double stained glass window, and stepped into pale moonlight. She sensed a presence yet saw no one, looked in all directions and found she stood alone. Lifting her head slightly she closed her eyes and inhaled the delicate aroma of freshly cut roses. It filled her so completely a shudder shook her shoulders. When she opened her eyes she looked at her feet and saw the flowers lying as if dropped and forgotten.

Thought slipped away as she extended a forefinger and leaned to touch the delicate bruised petals. As she did, her pale nearly translucent green flesh glowed when she felt the blossoms’ dying energy. An inaudible sigh expressed her desires which transferred to the flowers. At first they began to shrivel and wilt. She blew a warm breath across them, watched the petals waver gently as they revived.

Smiling now, she lowered to one knee and placed an open palm on the roses. she closed her eyes, chanted a blessing known to only her kind and felt the flowers begin to grow. At first they quivered, then moved with intention. She lifted her hand and watched as roots appeared and burrowed into the moist dark soil. As she stood she held both hands palms down over the roses and the plant she’d encouraged grew upward covered with leaves and red buds.