Seven Red Roses
There will be more later! I just need to add an ending…
She paused in the dragonfly grove and looked down. There were seven red roses formed among the white and a few were pink in anticipation. She looked around to make sure she was alone with the insects. She paused before reaching down to touch one. Instantly her hand heated up and she felt a wet heat stick to her hands. She suppressed a scream and looked at her fingers. The red blood-like goop had spread down her arm in rapid speed and started climbing up her neck. This time she didn’t suppress the scream and let loose the high-pitched noise before her lungs collapsed and she fell.
The grove was filled with moving life. Cries and obscenities were shouted in the open space, disregarding the shattering formation of dragonflies. People who knew her wept in fear and others just kept their distance.
“She’s a demon!”
Everyone ran to and fro, the strongest fighters tying her up and heaving her out of the garden in standard speed. People clutched at their chests and covered their mouths in shock. Others searched the grove. They couldn’t find anything.
“Maybe it’s something with the elf,” a fae whispered.
“Let’s not start a civil war,” another countered.
They filed out of the garden and hoped that this demon was not still there, waiting for the next person. A guard watched them file out quietly, standing at the entrance to the garden continuing his civil duties to keep the people calm, but something didn’t feel right. He scanned the white roses trying to figure out the cause of the heavy air and quiet oppression. When the last person had left, he followed them out.
The littlest one waited in the garden for everyone to leave and made sure she was hidden from the guard’s gaze when he scanned the garden. The dragonflies were gone, save one, which was the most unusual shade of red anyone had ever seen.
She paused to watch it flit in and out of the roses. It landed on the purest white rose, which at its touch became the deepest scarlet and flew off on a small breeze. She gazed at the large petals of the rose in amazement. The dragonfly had landed on another rose and continued to turn this one red. The little girl snuck up behind it and waved her arms to scare the creature away. It jumped with a start and flew to the other end of the garden, red steaming liquid dripping from its abdomen on the concrete patio as it flew off. The floor started to burn and charcoal spread from the red spots like a plague. The little girl ran toward the door of the garden, but found that it had disappeared in a large red brick wall reaching the sky. The flames started to consume the white roses and the trees, slowly making its way towards her. The dragonfly landed on her shoulder and quietly watched the scene from its perch.
“This is what happens to curiosity,” it said sweetly in the little girl’s ear before floating off her shoulder and leaving a red imprint from its stay. The girl fell unconscious and hit her head against the wall hard. Silver blood mingled with the red liquid as the fire finally reached the wall.
The first woman turned around to look at the pink smoke coming out of the garden. She smiled and fainted again becoming a dead weight on the people that carried her. The boy carrying her looked back at the garden again following her gaze, but saw nothing wrong with it, save one red rose peeking out through the door. He frowned, but continued onward, glancing warily at the woman’s red skin as they walked. His hands were gloved and covered with a sticky red liquid oozing from her arm. He paused.
“Since when did we have red roses?” he asked to no one in particular. There was silence as the processional continued. His hands were glued to the woman’s arm so he had no choice but to keep walking toward the city.
The city had emptied out and those who did not run to Selena’s garden were waiting in the street to be told what had occurred. Gasps shuttered through the crowd as one by one the people of the city laid eyes on the now androgynous girl. The air was morose as the spectators of her rescue whispered rumors of the story. Finally, the now larger procession had reached the healers and left the girl to be healed.
“Andrew!”
The boy turned to the person calling his name and smiled. His best friend, Jackson was running towards him as best he could in armor. People watched him annoyed as he ran past disregarding everyone else in the hospital.
“What do you think happened?” Jackson said quietly. His usual joking disposition was stone cold and Andrew noticed him fingering the hilt of his sword unconsciously as he usually did when he was nervous.
“I don’t know. Maybe we should ask Father Fuin what he thinks.”
Jackson shook his head. “I think we should do research on our own.”
Andrew glanced at the girl they had just carried in. “It doesn’t seem like much of a secret. And he is Goddess Selena’s high priest.”
Jackson shrugged and started walking out of the temple. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t get yourself killed.”
Andrew took one last glance at the demon girl before leaving the temple. The city was back to normal again, but a slight stiffness in the presence of the people. Things were going normally, but there were no children playing in the streets and the merchants smiled mechanically when someone walked by. He noticed the guards stationed in street corners and in front of prominent doorways ready at any moment to chase after the demon threatening the town.
Father Fuin was a tall, dark, ageless man who was always bustling around Goddess Selena’s temple on the far southern edge of the city. It was ornately built and managed as the temple for the city’s goddess. Besides it always being full of people, the temple never moved very quickly and one was inclined to take a step just a little bit slower than you would otherwise. Andrew cautiously walked in, conscience of his grubby appearance, and tried to sneak towards the main alter in the center front of the temple.
“Come to pray to our Goddess, I see. Youth such as yourself don’t come very often.”
Andrew turned around, his ears buzzing like he got caught. Father Fuin stood over him smiling and staring over his head at the glowing alter being lit by a single shaft of sunlight from a hole up above.
“I actually came to speak to you, Father,” Andrew began. Father Fuin looked down at him, the smile gone from his face.
“Quite,” he said, and started to walk towards a small hidden door in the west wall of the temple. Andrew followed him diligently, but cautiously because he wasn’t quite sure whether he should follow or not. Both of them slipped inside the room and Father Fuin closed the door quietly behind Andrew.
“I suppose this is about the girl. I heard she was found in the garden.”
Andrew nodded. “I just want to know what’s going on.”
Father Fuin nodded and sat down at a very large, dusty desk. “I hesitate to think that it might be the demon, Ba’lalnan. She hasn’t come to this city in years and I don’t think she would take the form of one of our village girls.” His voice drifted off in contemplation and Andrew took a seat on the opposite side of the desk trying to listen to the conversation the man was having with himself. “You do know the story, don’t you?” Father Fuin asked at last, startling Andrew so that he sat up straight on the back of his seat.
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
Father Fuin relaxed in his chair and clasped his hands in his lap. “Ba’lalnan was a goddess. In fact, she was the queen of the underworld and wife to Pyrrhus. Although all credit is given to him for ruling the underworld and death, he was a much kinder ruler than she was, and thus she had almost complete power. The story I am referring to is the battle between Selena and Ba’lalnan, or rather between Selena and Azar as that is what her name was as a goddess. She did not become Ba’lalnan until much later. Azar was quite materialistic and often unsatisfied. She could change her form at will, but would often sell herself on street corners as a young girl. It was one night of a full moon that Azar tempted a priest of Goddess Selena’s and they affronted the temple. In her anger, Goddess Selena turned Azar into a vulture and sent her to fly up to the clouds. Azar was angry with Selena for turning her into such an ugly creature and the two goddesses bickered until day. They say the skies were restless with lightning and thunder all night, but no rain fell. When Lord Gawain turned the night into day, Selena and Azar had decided to have a contest. This contest was similar to the ones preformed on Selena’s festival, but of course, with quite the opposite intention. The object was to create the most beautiful creature that could live in two elements. Goddess Selena created a dragonfly and she chose to weave them from the two elements of water and air. Lady Azar created a black swan from the elements water and earth. When they were finished with their creations, they implored Lord Ashton to judge which of the two was the more beautiful creatures. As punishment, Azar was banished from the Gods and Goddesses court and turned into a demon in the permanent form of a red dragonfly. She was allowed to keep her title as queen of the underworld and uses saps of her power to turn various other things into demons. So, if I’m correct, then that poor girl will have to be cleansed and kept alive for Selena’s Festival the following week. Hopefully, we won’t have to kill the poor girl.”
Andrew looked up at the window and sighed. “I’m going to see what happened tonight, after sun down.”
Father Fuin smiled, but didn’t show any surprise. “Perhaps you would like this.” He went to a chest on the far end of the room and opened it up with a creak. “Just some leather armor and a sword used in the Battle of the Sun. If Ba’lalnan is there, you will need this.”
Andrew thanked him and put on the armor and sword. “I hope I can sanctify the garden again,” he said in a final heroic gesture.
Father Fuin nodded appreciatory and left the small room.
Midnight arrived and Andrew left his home and ran towards the garden. The roses were all white, save two: a large red one in the middle on one side, and a wilting red one by the door. He stopped carefully to examine the one by the door; its leaves were charred with ash and curled like paralysis. The stem was brittle for when the wind moved it did not stir. Petals blew off it sadly and the pollen in the middle was exposed raw. Something compelled him to reach out and touch it, but he pulled away and sat down in the middle of the garden underneath the moon. The red dragonfly sat on a rose in front of him, iridescent eyes staring.
“Why have you come to my garden?” it asked malevolently. “You are not one to stumble here accidentally and you are armed.”
“Unless you are the Goddess Selena,” he countered, “you have no business calling this your garden.”
“But these are all my subjects,” the dragonfly said. All the roses turned a blood red and the previous red ones glowed orange. “Come my demons.”
The roses shifted into flame and spread toward the inside of the circle. He stood up with great speed and looked for the dragonfly. “Kill this with a sword,” it screeched.
“You’re a coward for not coming to me face to face,” he yelled into the flames. He waited for it to come back down to his level for one last boast, praying that the gods would help him win this conquest.
“Coward or no,” it said, “I am not unintelligent. I know you’ve figured it out.”
He paused and moved toward a tree, lifting himself up towards the branches. The dragonfly flitted off an upper branch. The red liquid shot down the trunk of the tree like an arrow and he dropped his hold on the trunk and fell down to the ground. The dragonfly sat on the top of the hedge and patiently waited for him. The flames were pushing him toward the bricked in entry way and the dragonfly had strategically placed itself on the opposite end of the garden. He plunged into the flames and swooped down on the insect as it flew to the left to avoid the blow. Breathing hard, he ran into the flames and leapt off the trunk of a burning tree, smashing his blade down on the dragonfly’s abdomen and splitting it in half. There was a great scream as the brick wall in front of the entryway disappeared. He ran towards this opening when a small girl curled up in the corner of the roses, burning brightly caught his eye. As he picked her up, the wound in her head started to bleed and he carefully staunched the bleeding with a gauntleted hand. True flames crackled behind them as he stumbled out of the garden and into the valley before the town.
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