I.
Roses
A quiet young lady, perhaps sixteen, walked slowly through the filthy street, lined with merchants and beggars alike. She rarely looked up from the ground, only to observe people. She spoke very little if just to bargain with a merchant. Her brown hair was unkempt, but shone with a life of it's own. She was dressed almost in rags with no shoes on her feet. And yet she walked with an air of certainty, as though she knew much more than she let on. She might have been pretty, but her eyes never came in contact with anyone else's and were never seen by others. Her hands were in front of her, holding a small unskillfully woven basket of twigs and sticks full of rotten fruits, usually sold to her for about two Agrro, very expensive for her at any time. But perhaps she was quiet for a reason. She looked up at a merchant's stand, full of blossoming flowers that seemed to glow with light. Her glum, blue eyes suddenly shone with delight, a hope that penetrated though her solemn guise. The merchant looked up and caught the young lady's eyes, who looked quickly away. The merchant frowned at her and watched her as she walked slowly by, sometimes peeking up to look at the flowers. The merchant, hoping for the attention of the young lady, called out, "Flowers for fifteen Agrro!" But she sighed with disappointment and didn't look up.
The merchant, seeing the rotten fruit in the basket, caught on and called out once more, "Sale! A single rose for one half an Agrro!"
The young lady gasped and slowly turned towards the booth. Her steps were steady, concentrated, as though if she hurried the sale would be gone. Her gaze stayed on the loose rocks that made up the gruesome street. The merchant woman hurriedly scurried about behind the booth, her breath heavy as a result of her unusually large stomach. A bouquet of roses was quickly and expertly arranged just as the young lady approached the booth. "A single rose please. The one that is on sale." The young lady said, her voice strangely melodic and sweet, rising from her small mouth like the wisp of cloud. She pulled her hair away from her face with her left hand. The merchant held out the bouquet of roses and said, "here, a lovely bouquet for a lovely young lady." The lady shook her head with her eyes still on the ground. "Nay, I have only come for a single rose. The one that is on sale, please." "These are on sale. For one half an Agrro." The merchant placed the flowers stubbornly in the young lady's basket. "For you it's free." She looked up, not making eye contact. "Nay!" she cried. "I will pay for it. How much is it?" "Free." The merchant replied stolidly. "Today's a special sale. One of a kind, actually." "I cannot take it."
"You must. I see you like it. Take it."
"But ma'am! I most certainly cannot-"
"But you most certainly can." The young lady looked back down at the ground and sighed. "I suppose, but I'd rather pay." "You will not pay for it. It's a sale." The young lady whispered a thank you and turned away as the merchant watched her. "Come back tomorrow at dawn." The merchant called with a burst of hope.
The young lady walked faster, not wanting to stop, for fear the merchant would regret the sale and ask for the roses back.
She walked quickly down the street and turned into an alleyway, and sat on a stoop belonging to a stranger.
She sniffed at the bouquet of roses. Her lips turned up a little, suggesting a smile. "A bouquet of roses for Anillielle. A beautiful gift." She carefully placed the bouquet beside her and fingered a ring on the chain that hung around her neck. "Beautiful," she whispered, just before she closed her eyes.
..............................
The sun shone lightly on the young lady's sleeping face. As if gently woken by a loved family member, she smiled and opened her eyes, to stare happily at the blue sky. She stood slowly, picking up the basket of rotten fruits and the nearly dead bouquet. The petals were dried out, the color fading and mud was caked on the stems. Nearly a month had passed since that rainy day when she had acquired the flowers. She did not regret that day.
She walked slowly through the alleyway, combing her hair with her dirty fingers. She hummed a quiet song and turned the corner into the marketplace. Her smile slipped from her face into a frown. This was the part of her life she regretted; walking alone, through the streets with no purpose, job or money. All her sorrow swept over her like a wave in the ocean, something she had only seen from a distance. Her eyes sadly swept over the road. The normal merchants were already set up, calling out to any passersby, hoping to win a customer. A sigh slipped through her small lips.
Her situation, it seemed, was hopeless. She was a homeless girl with no money, walking about, and not having anything to do. The rich looked down on her as if she were a filthy pig, rolling around in mud, snorting loudly. Most just ignored her, or didn't notice her at all. She was used to it, however.
A dim memory of a warm study filled with books came to her mind. A large fireplace was lit, giving out a steady and comforting warmth. She was seated on a large armchair, nearly half her size, reading a large novel. Her handsome father was seated on another armchair reading his own book. His face was featureless, lost in the whirlwind of time and lost memories. But he was handsome. She knew that full well. Her mother, a woman she could not remember, was not in the study, but in her room sleeping peacefully. The warmth of the fire from years past enveloped the young lady, whisking her into this memory-dream. The book she was reading had been a great classic, one of two lovers with an impossible love. The fire crackled softly, as if talking quietly to her, whispering in her ear. But soon it became louder, engulfing the wall. She looked up and yelled in horror. Her father looked up only too late. Suddenly, she shook, something she did not remember.
"Young lady!" A faintly familiar voice cried, an echo that finally reached her. "Young lady, are you all right?"
She opened her eyes and saw the flower merchant frowning down at her.
"I- I'm all right." The young lady said quietly.
The merchant put her hands on her hips. "What happened, child?"
"Nothing." She paused. "Nothing at all."
The merchant shook her head, not happy with the answer. "What is your name?"
The young lady hesitated. "My name is Ani."
"Well, Ani, tell me why you never came back?"
Ani stared quietly up at the woman. "I did not want to bother you."
The woman seethed with anger. "So you're going to tell me you don't accept charity, is that it?"
Ani looked at the ground. "Yes, ma'am."
"Well, then. Why did you keep the flowers?" The woman pointed at the bouquet that was now scattered on the ground.
"They were a gift."
"And so was my offer to give you a job, decent food and a room to sleep in. But did you take that gift? No! Tell me why not."
"Because," Ani frowned and shrugged, giving up. "I do not know."
The woman laughed haughtily, surprising Ani. "I am Des, a witch. It's short for my great great aunt, Desdom. Nice to meet you." She held out a hand.
Ani frowned at the woman, and shook her hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well."
Des looked at Ani surprised. "You are not afraid of me?"
Ani shook her head. "You can not harm me."
A wry smile grew on the witch's face. "Nor do I want to. Now that we have been introduced, would you mind helping me with my work?"
Ani shook her head and followed Des to the booth. There, the witch taught Ani how to pick out decent flowers and put them in a bouquet. Nearly all day they worked side by side, rarely talking. When the light began to wane, Des began to pack up the booth with Ani's help. Des had Ani follow her to a small cottage tucked away between two store fronts.
"This is home." The witch announced. "This is where you will live until you are ready to go out on your own." Ani followed her silently into the cottage.
The first room they came to was the kitchen, a starch clean room that smelled of incantations and herbs. Ani remembered the smell, but said nothing. Des set the flowers that had not sold on the table and led Ani to a small room that she claimed would be Ani's. It was small but homey with a blue quilt spread over the bed and a curtain draped over the window.
"Your new clothes are in the closet. They are in your size and I will have no complaining that they are charity. They are brand new, never worn before and made just for you. I will have you looking good for our customers. You are dirty, so I suggest you take a bath, just down the hall to your right, and put on a new dress. You must look decent if you are to eat my wonderful food. Fit for a princess, I say. And indeed everything here is. I will have one more requirement of you, though. You will learn to mix herbs and arrange herbs. It will come in very handy for the future, I'm sure." The witch turned to go but turned back, remembering one more thing. "And please, do not mention I'm a witch to anyone. They think I'm just a midwife and healer. I only sell flowers every other Tuesday."
Ani smiled softly at this afterthought and turned to her closet. She opened the sliding door and gasped. Dresses hung neatly on hangers, each, a different color and style. Shoes to match the dresses stood elegantly just beneath the dress it belonged to. Several dresses were so opulent, that they seemed to be made for a Princess' first ball. On a hunch, she walked over to the jewelry box on a mahogany dresser and slowly opened it. Diamond jewelry twinkled at her, playing at the dimming sunlight that passed through the window. She gazed sadly down at the jewelry. There were too many memories in such objects. She closed the lid quickly and looked away.
She gathered a cute red day-dress and it's pair of shoes, and walked down the hallway to the bathroom, on the right side. The bathtub was already full of hot water with bubbles floating on the surface of the water. She grinned and closed the bathroom door behind her.
After nearly a half an hour of soaking in the bathtub, a sweet aroma drifted through the house. It smelled incredibly delicious to Ani so she hurriedly got dressed. She walked down the steps, inhaling the smell deeply. Des was seated at the table with two plates stacked with food in front of her. She motioned for Ani to sit and said, "This is my best cooking. You will enjoy it."
Ani smiled and sat down, staring happily at the bountiful food. "It looks delicious."
"Ah! But how do you know it tastes as good?"
Ani chuckled to herself and began to eat. Indeed, it was much better than it smelled or looked. It tasted so good that any food she ever remembered eating at her father's house dimmed in compAnison.
She ate much more than she ever thought she would that night.
After they were both full and could eat not even a little bit more, Des began to talk. And talk. And Ani had no mind to let her stop. When the woman did stop talking, it was a disappointment.
"Tell me," Des said a while later. "I already know what has happened to you and why you are so glum all the time, but tell me this: are you happy?"
Ani frowned. "You have been very kind to me and this is a wonderful house. I enjoy it very much. But, nay, I am not happy. I wish my parents would come back."
"But they can not. You know that. You must move on."
Ani bit her lip. "I know."
To change the subject, Des led Ani to a room just off the kitchen that contained herbs and medicines. Ani caught a waft of the woman's perfume, which smelled just like Daisies.
"This is my little herbal room. You will learn to work with herbs and such found in different places and perhaps someday use them to your advantage."
Des began to point out different herbs and weeds, telling Ani where each was found and what each one was used for. After a few hours of studying the different types, Ani began to get tired. Des soon noticed and sent her up to her room to sleep.
Ani walked sluggishly up the stairs and turned into her room. She peered at the jewelry box and curiously opened it. The diamond jewelry had disappeared and her own old necklace, with the ring on it, was placed carefully inside. She smiled faintly and closed the box back up.
A quiet young lady, perhaps sixteen, walked slowly through the filthy street, lined with merchants and beggars alike. She rarely looked up from the ground, only to observe people. She spoke very little if just to bargain with a merchant. Her brown hair was unkempt, but shone with a life of it's own. She was dressed almost in rags with no shoes on her feet. And yet she walked with an air of certainty, as though she knew much more than she let on. She might have been pretty, but her eyes never came in contact with anyone else's and were never seen by others. Her hands were in front of her, holding a small unskillfully woven basket of twigs and sticks full of rotten fruits, usually sold to her for about two Agrro, very expensive for her at any time. But perhaps she was quiet for a reason. She looked up at a merchant's stand, full of blossoming flowers that seemed to glow with light. Her glum, blue eyes suddenly shone with delight, a hope that penetrated though her solemn guise. The merchant looked up and caught the young lady's eyes, who looked quickly away. The merchant frowned at her and watched her as she walked slowly by, sometimes peeking up to look at the flowers. The merchant, hoping for the attention of the young lady, called out, "Flowers for fifteen Agrro!" But she sighed with disappointment and didn't look up.
The merchant, seeing the rotten fruit in the basket, caught on and called out once more, "Sale! A single rose for one half an Agrro!"
The young lady gasped and slowly turned towards the booth. Her steps were steady, concentrated, as though if she hurried the sale would be gone. Her gaze stayed on the loose rocks that made up the gruesome street. The merchant woman hurriedly scurried about behind the booth, her breath heavy as a result of her unusually large stomach. A bouquet of roses was quickly and expertly arranged just as the young lady approached the booth. "A single rose please. The one that is on sale." The young lady said, her voice strangely melodic and sweet, rising from her small mouth like the wisp of cloud. She pulled her hair away from her face with her left hand. The merchant held out the bouquet of roses and said, "here, a lovely bouquet for a lovely young lady." The lady shook her head with her eyes still on the ground. "Nay, I have only come for a single rose. The one that is on sale, please." "These are on sale. For one half an Agrro." The merchant placed the flowers stubbornly in the young lady's basket. "For you it's free." She looked up, not making eye contact. "Nay!" she cried. "I will pay for it. How much is it?" "Free." The merchant replied stolidly. "Today's a special sale. One of a kind, actually." "I cannot take it."
"You must. I see you like it. Take it."
"But ma'am! I most certainly cannot-"
"But you most certainly can." The young lady looked back down at the ground and sighed. "I suppose, but I'd rather pay." "You will not pay for it. It's a sale." The young lady whispered a thank you and turned away as the merchant watched her. "Come back tomorrow at dawn." The merchant called with a burst of hope.
The young lady walked faster, not wanting to stop, for fear the merchant would regret the sale and ask for the roses back.
She walked quickly down the street and turned into an alleyway, and sat on a stoop belonging to a stranger.
She sniffed at the bouquet of roses. Her lips turned up a little, suggesting a smile. "A bouquet of roses for Anillielle. A beautiful gift." She carefully placed the bouquet beside her and fingered a ring on the chain that hung around her neck. "Beautiful," she whispered, just before she closed her eyes.
..............................
The sun shone lightly on the young lady's sleeping face. As if gently woken by a loved family member, she smiled and opened her eyes, to stare happily at the blue sky. She stood slowly, picking up the basket of rotten fruits and the nearly dead bouquet. The petals were dried out, the color fading and mud was caked on the stems. Nearly a month had passed since that rainy day when she had acquired the flowers. She did not regret that day.
She walked slowly through the alleyway, combing her hair with her dirty fingers. She hummed a quiet song and turned the corner into the marketplace. Her smile slipped from her face into a frown. This was the part of her life she regretted; walking alone, through the streets with no purpose, job or money. All her sorrow swept over her like a wave in the ocean, something she had only seen from a distance. Her eyes sadly swept over the road. The normal merchants were already set up, calling out to any passersby, hoping to win a customer. A sigh slipped through her small lips.
Her situation, it seemed, was hopeless. She was a homeless girl with no money, walking about, and not having anything to do. The rich looked down on her as if she were a filthy pig, rolling around in mud, snorting loudly. Most just ignored her, or didn't notice her at all. She was used to it, however.
A dim memory of a warm study filled with books came to her mind. A large fireplace was lit, giving out a steady and comforting warmth. She was seated on a large armchair, nearly half her size, reading a large novel. Her handsome father was seated on another armchair reading his own book. His face was featureless, lost in the whirlwind of time and lost memories. But he was handsome. She knew that full well. Her mother, a woman she could not remember, was not in the study, but in her room sleeping peacefully. The warmth of the fire from years past enveloped the young lady, whisking her into this memory-dream. The book she was reading had been a great classic, one of two lovers with an impossible love. The fire crackled softly, as if talking quietly to her, whispering in her ear. But soon it became louder, engulfing the wall. She looked up and yelled in horror. Her father looked up only too late. Suddenly, she shook, something she did not remember.
"Young lady!" A faintly familiar voice cried, an echo that finally reached her. "Young lady, are you all right?"
She opened her eyes and saw the flower merchant frowning down at her.
"I- I'm all right." The young lady said quietly.
The merchant put her hands on her hips. "What happened, child?"
"Nothing." She paused. "Nothing at all."
The merchant shook her head, not happy with the answer. "What is your name?"
The young lady hesitated. "My name is Ani."
"Well, Ani, tell me why you never came back?"
Ani stared quietly up at the woman. "I did not want to bother you."
The woman seethed with anger. "So you're going to tell me you don't accept charity, is that it?"
Ani looked at the ground. "Yes, ma'am."
"Well, then. Why did you keep the flowers?" The woman pointed at the bouquet that was now scattered on the ground.
"They were a gift."
"And so was my offer to give you a job, decent food and a room to sleep in. But did you take that gift? No! Tell me why not."
"Because," Ani frowned and shrugged, giving up. "I do not know."
The woman laughed haughtily, surprising Ani. "I am Des, a witch. It's short for my great great aunt, Desdom. Nice to meet you." She held out a hand.
Ani frowned at the woman, and shook her hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well."
Des looked at Ani surprised. "You are not afraid of me?"
Ani shook her head. "You can not harm me."
A wry smile grew on the witch's face. "Nor do I want to. Now that we have been introduced, would you mind helping me with my work?"
Ani shook her head and followed Des to the booth. There, the witch taught Ani how to pick out decent flowers and put them in a bouquet. Nearly all day they worked side by side, rarely talking. When the light began to wane, Des began to pack up the booth with Ani's help. Des had Ani follow her to a small cottage tucked away between two store fronts.
"This is home." The witch announced. "This is where you will live until you are ready to go out on your own." Ani followed her silently into the cottage.
The first room they came to was the kitchen, a starch clean room that smelled of incantations and herbs. Ani remembered the smell, but said nothing. Des set the flowers that had not sold on the table and led Ani to a small room that she claimed would be Ani's. It was small but homey with a blue quilt spread over the bed and a curtain draped over the window.
"Your new clothes are in the closet. They are in your size and I will have no complaining that they are charity. They are brand new, never worn before and made just for you. I will have you looking good for our customers. You are dirty, so I suggest you take a bath, just down the hall to your right, and put on a new dress. You must look decent if you are to eat my wonderful food. Fit for a princess, I say. And indeed everything here is. I will have one more requirement of you, though. You will learn to mix herbs and arrange herbs. It will come in very handy for the future, I'm sure." The witch turned to go but turned back, remembering one more thing. "And please, do not mention I'm a witch to anyone. They think I'm just a midwife and healer. I only sell flowers every other Tuesday."
Ani smiled softly at this afterthought and turned to her closet. She opened the sliding door and gasped. Dresses hung neatly on hangers, each, a different color and style. Shoes to match the dresses stood elegantly just beneath the dress it belonged to. Several dresses were so opulent, that they seemed to be made for a Princess' first ball. On a hunch, she walked over to the jewelry box on a mahogany dresser and slowly opened it. Diamond jewelry twinkled at her, playing at the dimming sunlight that passed through the window. She gazed sadly down at the jewelry. There were too many memories in such objects. She closed the lid quickly and looked away.
She gathered a cute red day-dress and it's pair of shoes, and walked down the hallway to the bathroom, on the right side. The bathtub was already full of hot water with bubbles floating on the surface of the water. She grinned and closed the bathroom door behind her.
After nearly a half an hour of soaking in the bathtub, a sweet aroma drifted through the house. It smelled incredibly delicious to Ani so she hurriedly got dressed. She walked down the steps, inhaling the smell deeply. Des was seated at the table with two plates stacked with food in front of her. She motioned for Ani to sit and said, "This is my best cooking. You will enjoy it."
Ani smiled and sat down, staring happily at the bountiful food. "It looks delicious."
"Ah! But how do you know it tastes as good?"
Ani chuckled to herself and began to eat. Indeed, it was much better than it smelled or looked. It tasted so good that any food she ever remembered eating at her father's house dimmed in compAnison.
She ate much more than she ever thought she would that night.
After they were both full and could eat not even a little bit more, Des began to talk. And talk. And Ani had no mind to let her stop. When the woman did stop talking, it was a disappointment.
"Tell me," Des said a while later. "I already know what has happened to you and why you are so glum all the time, but tell me this: are you happy?"
Ani frowned. "You have been very kind to me and this is a wonderful house. I enjoy it very much. But, nay, I am not happy. I wish my parents would come back."
"But they can not. You know that. You must move on."
Ani bit her lip. "I know."
To change the subject, Des led Ani to a room just off the kitchen that contained herbs and medicines. Ani caught a waft of the woman's perfume, which smelled just like Daisies.
"This is my little herbal room. You will learn to work with herbs and such found in different places and perhaps someday use them to your advantage."
Des began to point out different herbs and weeds, telling Ani where each was found and what each one was used for. After a few hours of studying the different types, Ani began to get tired. Des soon noticed and sent her up to her room to sleep.
Ani walked sluggishly up the stairs and turned into her room. She peered at the jewelry box and curiously opened it. The diamond jewelry had disappeared and her own old necklace, with the ring on it, was placed carefully inside. She smiled faintly and closed the box back up.