Tale 50- The Blooming Dahlias

 Arriving around nightfall, Sarafelle found the inn relatively easily, with just one slight setback- there was only one room available. Seeing how the Traveler shook, she demanded that there be an extra bed set up for her, the staff reluctantly complying. Sarafelle got ready for bed first, simply wearing her usual clothes but removing her shoes and cleaning them, and the Traveler lay down in the smaller bed provided for her, despite Sarafelle insisting she could have the larger one if she so wished. Pulling the sheets over her, the Traveler savoured the comfort…even though it would only last one night, she was comfortable. She turned her head to face Sarafelle, who was looking contemplative. “...Are you alright?” she whispered, Sara being surprised but nodding, though she looked uncertain. She drew her knees up to her chest and sighed. “I’ve…been hiding something from you. Something…really big…and really terrible…” she whispered, her voice trembling and tears beginning to prickle her eyes. The Traveler sat up, attentive, and the two moved until they were sitting across from each other, though on separate beds. Sarafelle sighed. “I…have to tell you…tell you everything…and I…hope you might forgive me.” she spoke, nearly sobbing, but ready to tell the tale of ‘the Blooming Dahlias’

‘At the foot of a mountain, in a cottage decorated by dahlias, peonies and carnations, a little girl was born to two loving and devoted parents. The child had everything she could dream of, her father gifting her beautiful bows and spending hours upon hours fishing with her. However, her mother wilted like a flower, becoming gravely ill when the girl was around four years old, the girl’s father abandoning his family not long after. Left with nothing but herself and her mother, the little girl began to sell everything she owned- her beautiful dresses and ribbons were replaced with simpler clothes, and her love for fishing turned into hatred, for the young girl had begun to hate her father for his actions. No longer was her father a kind, honest man, but she knew the truth, he hid his deceitful and untrustworthy nature behind a facade of kindness, gossiping with others and sharing secrets despite his promises. Though she turned to gardening for comfort, the girl still kept the fishing rod, as a little reminder to never follow in his steps. The young girl sought out work when she was eleven, finding a job after a mysterious town crier appeared one morning and offered jobs at the palace of King Calius, who hadn’t been seen for years. Though it was hard work, she persevered and worked each and every day, managing to get enough money to keep herself and her mother living a somewhat comfortable life, even at the cost of her own childhood. Though she was friendly with most staff, even the distant king himself, she could not get along at all with the head knight, the two often coming into conflict over wages and being complete opposites of each other. Due to the instability he caused her monetarily, she slipped down into a spiral of depression, but managed to escape it through the help of fellow maids and her love for her mother, allowing her to continue going forward. She was promoted to head maid after this time due to how hard she worked, being given a ring of keys capable of opening the gates of the castle and allowing her to open any door she pleased inside, as this was previously the job of the knights and guards stationed around the castle.

One strange morning, the knight ordered the castle to begin preparing a feast, the maid being in charge of picking the fruit from the numerous orchards around the palace. She watched someone new arrive at the castle, presumably a guest, and picked as many apples as her basket could carry, heading indoors to have them sliced. Due to her previous struggle against malnutrition, the girl dropped some of the apples on the way in, sighting the King standing outside the main ballroom door. He looked visibly disturbed, but seemingly unwilling to converse, so the maid continued on, before realizing she’d dropped one of the fruits by the other entrance. Bending down to pick it up, she suddenly heard something inside the ballroom, someone shouting. A young person, yelling for help and hitting the main entrance to try and escape the room. The maid leaned against the door, turning her head and feeling nauseous as she began to understand what might be occurring. Thumping on the door close to her began, the maid pulling out her keys and debating opening the door, but she knew it would cost her dearly, she might lose her job and source of income to treat and nurse her mother. Heart pounding, the maid put away her keys, trying to ignore the desperate cries of the person locked inside the room. The flowers around the entire castle began to tremble, vines creeping up the locked door and burgundy dahlias blooming all over the frame, the maid knowing she’d done something horribly wrong and regretting her decision. As the lock was covered in vines, the maid lost her chance to save the person, and watched as her fellow staff approached the ballroom with more food, the maid lying and saying the people inside were no longer hungry, the staff complying and returning to the kitchen. The entirety of the castle staff watched in horror as pink chrysanthemums began to bloom in every dark corner, entangling the few roses left alive on the vines and causing them to wilt away. The door suddenly opened, the maid hiding behind the frame and luckily not being sighted, pulling the apples close to her chest and watching in fear as the knight stomped upstairs, peeking around the door and watching the person from earlier throwing on their cape, grabbing a sword from one of the wall displays and fleeing. As the person ran off into the night, the maid was pushed aside as the knight began to pursue them, leaving her to go about her duties and walk home down the mountain, as if nothing had even happened.’

“Ever since that day…I made a vow to help that person. And…I found her.” Sarafelle whispered, looking over at the Traveler before bursting into regretful, guilty tears, burying her head in her hands and sobbing. The Traveler sat for a moment, numb, before gently pulling out her book and transcribing everything. It was a story…a story for the ages. As tears came to the Traveler’s eyes, she blinked them away, burying herself into illustrating and hearing Sarafelle’s soft sobs, trying to ignore them just as the maid had ignored the guest. But…the emotions she felt were too strong. Closing her book, the Traveler turned to stare at Sarafelle, who met her eyes. They were burning with regret and guilt, the Traveler sighing and moving to sit next to her on the bed, Sarafelle immediately turning to stare at her. “I’m so, so sorry.” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks and sobs practically clogging her throat. The Traveler shook her head. “I understand.” she simply whispered, before gently touching Sarafelle’s shoulder. The maid tensed for a moment, but let herself be held, though not moving to return the comfort as she normally would. The two sat in silence for a while, their heads burning with a thousand questions, a thousand ifs and hows and whys, but none of them were able to speak a single one aloud. They were condemned to silence, though it was finally broken by Sarafelle, who turned with fire in her eyes. “I promise you, for as long as I live, I will never stop trying to help you gain your freedom.” she whispered, the Traveler taking her hands and nodding, both expressions showing just how serious they were. As they retired to bed, they found themselves facing each other, joining hands and falling asleep with their fingers entwined, emotions and promises interlinking them far more strongly than any regret or failures could ever rip them apart.