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A bright burning red, Iana's story #19
"It must be the first blossom from the orchards," Aunt Rosemary said. "I'll take whatever I can get this year. It has been the slowest spring coming. It's usually not this late, and this is much later than I've ever seen it. You can put the apple blossom on the table for now."
I looked down at my hand. I still carried the apple blossom I intended to bring her. I'd forgotten about it completely. I stumbled over to her work table. Flopping down on a stool I dropped the branch on the tabletop and stared at it, trying to sort out my wild thoughts and the uneasiness swirling around me. The dreaming had left me, or rather I'd finally left it behind, but the memory of it, the strangeness of it was beginning to shake me. It felt like I'd woken up, only I knew I had not ever fallen asleep.
Aunt Rosemary gave the bottle she held a vigorous shake and set it down. "Are you alright Iana? You look pale. Your breathing is irregular." She came around the table to me. Reaching out she put hands on my forehead, and then on my cheeks. "You've been out walking in the chill air. Why are you dressed in such flimsy clothing? Not even a shawl! Are you trying to catch your death?"
She hurried over to her basin, drawing out some water. After collecting some fresh herbs and a lemon she made a brew for me. At least she warmed, not too hot, but the sour lemon was so strong I couldn't swallow fast enough. Over the years I've learned its best to drink them fast, all in one gulp.
Then I began to tell her about the rose blossom I'd seen. Even I found it hard to believe as I described it. I'm not usually one for poetics and here I was talking about a flower with a mystical glow. I expected her to laugh.
She didn't.
"Ah yes, the burning rose. It's sometimes called a life flower. It doesn't seem real does it. That brilliant red color. Some of the old texts call it a philosopher's flower, not that it has anything to do with immortality or that madness. Though it has a powerful magic in it."
"Yes, I could see that." I started to feel guilty for wanting to pick it, something so precious. "I just wanted to see it bloom."
She shook her head. "They rarely bloom. Everything I've read about them says they remain as the bud, even when plucked off the bush. I haven't figured out how it survives as it does. It should have dried up by now. By some magic it hasn't. They're usually planted while in a bud state. And I didn't want to believe it at first, but they say the planting changes the land. It brings prosperity and vitality that lasts several season. I believe it's true now."
"It can do that?" I said.
"That's the power of the burning rose. It's really more like a seed than flower; with the potential to bring life back to all of Winding. I'm no wizard, but even I can tell that much from the petal I took. It's still giving me results. I've been experimenting for weeks on it. Incredible, my results. It's not just the smell, but the liquid I've extracted from it. It makes a marvelous red." She brought out three small bottles with a bright burning red liquid. "Marvelous isn't it?"
I stared at it, and then at her. "You took a p-petal?" I stammered, frankly shocked.
"Your father gave it to me. Just a sample, mind you."
"When did Father find it? Why didn't he tell anyone?" I gasped, a little hurt. "Is that why he stays locked up in his study so much, because of he found the life flower?" Like me, I thought, he must be suffering for the want of it too.
"Yes, that's where he keeps it."
"Keeps it?" Now I was confused. The same look appeared on Aunt Rosemary's face. We stared at each other blankly. Then both of us spoke at once.
"But if you know about it -"
"I only just -"
Slowly we got our stories straightened out. I explained the strange experience, the dreaming where I found the burning rose. Aunt Rosemary listened, "I see, I see." She kept repeating. Then she explained next. She only knew about the burning rose because my Father had one. She didn't know the exact circumstances about how he got it or where it came from. I'd have to go ask him that. It was troubling him greatly. She wouldn't have even said anything, except she thought he'd already spoken to me about it and shown it to me. I was shocked to learn he'd had something so precious kept hidden away. The life flower, the burning rose could revitalize the kingdom, give the land life again, with abundant harvests and fields. Why hadn't he used it yet? Aunt Rosemary didn't know.
She found my dreaming quite alarming. I wasn't anymore. It was nothing to worry about, I reassured her, just a dreaming after all. I must have been more fatigued than I realized. I put it behind me.
Now that I had some answers to the mysteries surrounding me, I wanted to go confront my father at once. I wanted to see the burning rose he kept, to see if it was kin to the one I'd dreamed about, and to ask him - no beg him to use it to save Winding! He had to.
to be continued . . .
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