The Yamani Rose:
Chapter 8: As the Rose
21st Year of Reign
460 H.E.
Only a moment of tranquility passed before the two women stood. The tension of before seemed long gone, and both stood with grace and poise. The looked at each other briefly, and then turned their separate ways.
Yuki wandered quietly around the gardens for a time, the image of feminine serenity. Soon enough, she spotted a lady that she had befriended and, pushing the thoughts of Kel from her mind, joined her on a slow walk.
Kel, however, turned back the way she had come. She moved with quick steps, her long legs carrying her a large distance in a short time. Within a minute she emerged into the training area. Seeing Neal already standing off to the side of the gardens, she turned his way.
Nealan of Queenscove stood with his arms behind his back. As Kel brushed her obi once more, she saw a flash around his face. Lowering her hand to her side, she realized that he must have used his Gift to conceal his own tired appearance. She could not fault him; she had done the same with her makeup that morning. Silently, she moved closer to him and grabbed his arm at the elbow.
Neal watched her, eyes full of something strange and curiosity. Kel answered his unspoken demand. "Come." He followed.
They walked around to the back of the garden, a small secluded place surrounded by high hedges and untamed trees. As Kel released his arm, she spoke again.
"You must remove whatever is covering you, as well as any other magics that you have on." Her tone was neutral and, while not demanding, firm.
Kel watched as he blinked and quickly removed the mask. His tired features emerged. She nodded and bent down by a small stream that flowed gently from under the hedges into the trees. She splashed her face, and gently rubbed off all of her makeup. Turning back to him, she waited as he observed her own weary features. The formidable warrior then reached up and, deliberately, undid her hair from its secure tie and pin. It fell down about her body richly. Still meeting his eyes, she moved her hands to her waist and swiftly undid her obi. Finally, she looked away and held the obi carefully in her hands. Setting it gently on the ground, she unfolded it and removed several small packs of herbs.
Neal, more than just slightly stunned and confused, wondered to himself how no one had noticed the bumps in the cloth as she wore it. He certainly had not. Not that he had been looking at her waist, of course.
Kel gently separated the packs into four piles, peering quickly inside each to ascertain that she was sorting them correctly. Soon she had four piles of three packs each in front of her. Moving with a practiced ease, she grabbed a small earthenware bowl from the ground and poured the contents of the first pile, which stood separate from the others, into it. She looked up at her silent observer.
"I assume you have flint and steel with you?" She questioned with an expectant look. He nodded and walked clumsily toward her. Keeping on hand awkwardly behind his back, he drew the two small stones from his pockets and handed them to the woman kneeling on the ground. As she took the stones and began mixing the herbs in the bowl, he looked at her in a different light than he had ever before. The heady scents of rosemary, sandalwood, and sage filled his mind. Before he even thought of coming out of his daze, the scents spiked as a spark caught in the dish and slowly devoured the herbs inside it.
Despite the heat that must have been radiating from the bowl, Kel kept it cradled in her palms. She breathed in the thick, pungent smoke, inhaling deeply. Resisting the urge to cough through practice, she spoke the ancient chants to Yama. The chants were formal and familiar to thousands of people, alive and dead, and Kel had said them many times. Still, the smoky, secluded atmosphere gave the words an almost intimate tone. Her voice, guttural and low from the smoke, made it all the more surreal. Neal watched her silently.
An eternal moment passed, and then the herbs were fully consumed and the ashes were scattered on the ground. Then the moment was gone.
Kel stood gracefully and, brushing past the young man nearby, quickly rinsed the bowl in the water. Then she knelt once more beside the packages on the ground, her eyes scanning them to check that they remained undisturbed during the previous ritual. She hesitated in reaching for them. Her hands ghosted over each pile, thinking of what each represented. The virgin maiden, the mother, the hag. After a moment of deliberation, she wrapped them all in her obi once more and, standing, tied it around her waist. There were no visible lumps in the cloth.
Neal wondered what was going on, but dared not speak for fear of breaking the enigmatic web that was draped over the area. Kel soon did the deed for him.
Securing her hair back once more with the pin, Kel walked up to Neal. Her presence snapped him out of his daze. "You can cover your face again, now. I am done." Her voice was still low from the smoke, but he quickly did as she said. The dark circles disappeared once more. Leaving one hand still behind his back, he ran his hand slowly over his face. Hesitating, he reached toward her face.
"Would you like me to," Neal began. Understanding, she nodded. Kel watched his eyes as he ran his hand over her face. Awkwardly, his hand bumped her nose as he brought it down again. She smiled slightly, raising an eyebrow as he flushed.
"Come on," She spoke with a hint of playfulness in her voice. She brushed past him once more, and he turned to watch her walk away.
The rose fell smoothly from his grasp as he moved to catch up with her. It landed lightly in the stream, the current pulled it away on its course. The bloom was mildly bruised and wilted from the time in his uncertain grasp, despite this, it retained it brilliance.
A/N: Wow, it has been far too long. I am afraid that this is all that I have for you at the moment, but I wrote it in about two and a half hours, so be happy. As much as it seems like a slow interlude, I hope that you can all see the symbolism as the plot slowly builds. Review, please. It does not have to be too thoughtful, even the smallest remark is encouraging.
