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The sky was full of stars but no moon.
Her feet pounded the mushy ground, squishing grasses but did nothing to compress her ever growing fear. Her hair swung left and right as she tried to run the opposite direction of her prized possession. Maybe if she had asked for time, she could have gotten her mother and kept her life but she was no liar. The queen of the night bloomed once a year and wilted, only to grow the next year. It was not intentional, it was only for her mother. She couldn't give up after a year.
Humming pierced the cold atmosphere. Silence enveloped the forest as fireflies dancing to the gentle humming. Scents of vanilla, citrus and musk filled the air, drawing nocturnal animals out. Though lonely, Layla never ceased to dedicate her time just to get her wish.
The sound of shears pruning leaves were in rhythm with her hums. Her purple coloured hair swayed as the wind played around. The silence and peace was disrupted by heavy footsteps. Her serenity was shattered, like always and by the same person. Though it was obvious someone was there, she refused to begin a new round of argument but the clearing of throat was enough to annoy her. A sigh escaped her throat as she looked up
"What is it?" Though she has a kind face, her voice has always been monotoned and that was her strength.
"I am saying this again, Layla. The flower is needed by the queen and if you refuse, you'll be prosecuted for treason." Though it was a live and death situation, she couldn't help laughing. One would think that the King's general would sound intimidating but not Pius as he sounded like a teenage girl.
It was probably her laughter that ticked him off, "You mock me. All I do is only for your sake. Obedience is better than sacrifice." And that was his exit speech.
For once, there was no argument and it came as a surprise to Layla. That can only mean that they would want it by force and she wasn't willing to let go of her only chance of seeing her mother.
The queen of the night flower was one of the rarest flowers in Gotti village. It was a nocturnal plant that could only be found in the forest. It blooms once every year and only at night. It was a belief that anyone who wished during its blooming night and gazed upon its flowers would get his or her wish granted.
Though she does not wish to disobey her king and cause the death of her queen, seeing her mother was dependent on it and she couldn't risk it. She had been offered everything, money to position and even beauty but she needed nothing of such. All she needed was her mother. She had only two days more and her mother would be back.
But she probably wouldn't make it.
"Surrender the flower now or face your death." The words were eerie as they were spoken under the moonlight and her breath created puffs of her air right in front of her. She wasn't going to die before seeing her mother.
She had no idea where the strength came from. She took to her heels and forgot the flower. Now that might have seemed like a foolish act but her flower was safe, at least from the King's men. They needed the flower and the wrong move could cause the wilting of the flower. In fact, she was the only one who could pluck the flower with a particular precision so she was needed.
Perhaps, it was already known by King's men but they all ran after her. She ran and ran but couldn't lose them. She then thought the only way was to go into hiding. The next day, the day of the blooming, was a great day for her. No one knew the D-Day for the blooming so she could wish first without competition. Then maybe afterwards, she could give the flower to the Queen.
She waited and waited. She hid and ran and twilight came. Walking stealthily, she moved towards her flower. She sat before and inhaled the subtle scent of the flower getting richer. Moths hovered above, mimicking butterflies and bats flapped their wings, waiting patiently for the beautiful white of the flower to shine.
Slowly, the flower's opened and she smiled. She thought of the number of days she spent tending to the flower and the tiredness it brought. Closing her eyes, she wished.
Well, almost wished. The moment her eyes closed, a hand tugged on her ponytail and she rolled down through the mud. A groan pushed through her throat as she stood up.
Words filled her mind, swears harsh enough to make the most brazen man burst into tears but she remembered her mother and silently she whispered, "I wish for my lost mother."