I head straight for my quarters, seal the entrance, and reform in a heap on the floor, panting heavily with exertion. I can still feel their words on my skin, the strings growing stronger as their discussion continues, carving the tethers deeper into my flesh.
Clearly I made a mistake when renewing my protective wards, their threads should not be able to touch me here. In fact, they should not have been able to affect me earlier either.
I pull back my coat and reach into the pocket concealed in the lining, pulling out my talisman.
At first glance, the flower remains encased in it’s crystalline sphere, looking just as it did on the day it first bloomed all those millennia ago.
Aurelia had woven its’ kind, grown the plant from seed in a simulation. Those before it had always failed, withering or unravelling long before they could even sprout.
Then, one day, she called for Acara and I. She grabbed our hands and took off, too excited to stop and explain, leaving us stumbling with laughter as we struggled to keep up. We were pulled rapidly through the corridors to her chambers, tumbling into the still-open door of the simulation before we knew what was happening.
Acara and I, far less practiced in dimensional travel, were sent sprawling in a sea of pink that stretched to the nearby horizon, while Aurelia slowed clumsily to a halt. The sight was unlike anything we had seen before.
“They’re called flowers!” Aurelia announced, bouncing in place and beaming down at the pair of us as we recovered our composure.
“They’re lovely Auri!” Acara said, eyes wide, prodding one gingerly as it arced over her head. “And…uh…what exactly are they?”
“They’re like plants, but with a new way to reproduce. You see, these have a thing I call pollen! It’s like this… I guess you could call it dust? And it allows them to be cross-fertilized so they can produce seeds, which make more flowers!” she rambled brightly, explaining at high speed and characteristically forgetting Acara’s need for processing time.
My gift has always provided the coincidental perk of allowing me to follow speech, regardless of how fast it’s spoken. Thus it used to be standard practice for my twin to focus only on the essence of things, knowing I would fill in the gaps later once Aurelia had gotten it out of her system. For that to work, I needed to pay attention.
“You see, I have this whole theory about making them a core part of the ecosystem. I’m thinking about trial-running some new species to help the process too! If it works it should create a better network between living creatures… well, when I get that far anyway.”
I nodded in consideration. Though the mechanics of her work were frequently lost on me, understanding the nuances was both enjoyable and aided me in better assisting her work.
“What a wonderful idea, you’ll have to show me them when you do,” I declared, sitting up properly to closer inspect a flower leaning near my face. I tuned into the hum of its lifeforce and how it struck through the soil, haphazardly trying to parse how she had finally managed to stabilise their Bindings. At the time I was unable to make sense of what I was seeing, that skill still being an underdeveloped one.
Aurelia looked up at me hesitantly. “So you like them then?”
I huffed at the ridiculousness of her question. “Of course I do, they are quite beautiful.”
Her gaze lit up and drifted to Acara who, clearly still distracted with trying to make sense of where these creations fit into the order of things, hurriedly added, “He’s right Auri, I don’t know how you came up with these!”
Aurelia beamed in pride and my chest grew warm with fondness. Acara nudged me with a teasing smile and I rolled my eyes in return, shifting to look around us properly.
It was only then that I realised we were lying on top of some of the flowers. They fell apart in the grass under my hands, staining my palms with pink, petals flayed open and stems crushed beneath us.
I stumbled to my feet, pulling Acara with me, ignoring her squawk of protest. “Dear sister, I do apologise, we seem to have broken some of them.”
Acara followed my gaze with unfiltered horror. Death was still new to us back then. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt them!”
Thankfully, Aurelia didn’t look the slightest bit concerned.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty more where they came from!” she giggled, waving an arm across the field of blooms.
“I tell you what…” she crouched down and plucked the still-intact flower I’d been studying before.
“Here – you can keep one!” she said, with the foregone, and accurate, assumption that we would not wish for separate ones. She handed it to Acara who cradled it in all four palms before looking up at me. Understanding her meaning, I lightly covered her hands with mine, cupping the flower between our palms.
I reached out with my power, sending it towards the plant, feeling the sensation of warmth as Acara did the same, our gifts intertwining and binding around the petals.
When I removed my hands it was encased in solid energy, to protect it, immortalise it.
For a great many centuries it continued to be treasured by Acara and I, taking pride-of-place on a shelf in our living room which we shared with our siblings. We rarely kept anything to ourselves – belongings, ideas, secrets – believing that was how it would be for eternity.
Youth makes fools of us all.
At some point in the upheaval, as we all pulled away from each other and moved into distant quarters, Acara left it behind to gather dust. Perhaps she forgot, or perhaps she left it as some sort of statement, a rejection of all we had been before.
I considered destroying it, I even attempted to once, but the Bindings we wove were too strong for me to break alone.
I considered casting it into the void instead, but it felt almost unjust. It belonged to Aurelia first, and it was hardly her fault that Acara fell out of my favour.
I decided I could not show one of her creations such disregard, so I found it a new purpose. No longer would it be a relic, instead it would serve me well. If that happened to spite my twin’s intentions, then all the better.
I called on old threads, the sensation of joy and care still clinging to the plant itself even after so many millennia. I rethreaded them into protection, a means to defend myself from the words of others, weaving the charm into its eternal fabric.
Fabric that has now been torn.
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