Dragon Aster Trilogy

20: PAINTING ROSES



The gardens at the back of the Sanctus were vibrantly colored with flowers that thrived under the estus energy of the Atrum’s Aur, or the warmer light of the Soph Aur of Toria. If you stood back and looked at the rows of them, you could see a line separating the beauty of those grown in the light, from the dreariness of those in the darkness. That line was Kas’ roses.

They only continued to live while planted directly between both Aurs that touched the Sanctus. The flowers that had been brought to Aster from Earth all had their own climate and shade preferences. If the roses ever gained a soul, they would spite Kas to the last of his patience. Just like his sister, they would not be content to stay on one side. As such, they became a part of his personal inner-strength training, as he refused to give up.

Kas usually fought them with his estus or aeri energy to keep them alive, but today he had a different plan as he set down a small pail of blue paint. Painting was a channel that Kas was able to relax through, and he needed to calm down from his fight with Hain. Disrupting his morning gardening schedule would cause concern to rise from those who watched him constantly.

He reminded himself that mercenaries didn’t have a purpose or a duty aside from themselves. And while Hain may have been one of the best Custos while Kira was alive, her death had changed him. It had changed much as Kas look up at the sky, to where the little bit of aeri from Toria reached the Sanctus. He wondered if it too had been brighter nineteen years ago.

Three ayame had taken up playfully laughing at him from a further row of flowers when he picked up the paintbrush. Their laughter didn’t bother him, as he knew they were becoming more desperate and fearless to get his attention, and he had given them a good excuse today. His greater concern was that their female-only trios who they stalked him with would expand.

The Custos were easy targets to ayame who weren’t of the Sanctus’ Callers, as they weren’t allowed to have a Bond and couldn’t flirt back. The Packs they were part of were strategically placed phelan soldiers, with the most compatible Caller to manage them. While it did happen that Packs left the duty of being a Custos and went off on their own, it was considered dishonorable to do such before five years of service. For it took a minimum of five years to teach them social discipline, the Texts and combat skills. In return for what they were taught and boarding, they were expected to work.

The laughter stopped, and Kas looked for what could have sent the ayame away so suddenly. To no surprise, it was Sybl. Kas decided then to keep the matter of Hain’s exile entirely to himself.

“Are you painting flowers?” she asked as she walked over.

“Just the roses,” he corrected, glancing only momentarily at her and away from his chosen rose bush of the dozens.

“Phelan can’t see red, can they?”

“We can see it enough to know that it is connected to something important.” He snapped the one free that he had finished painting blue, and offered it to her.

“But all your eyes are red—how do you see the eyes of other phelan?” She took the rose from him.

“We see each other’s intentions instead of red, as the eyes are a reflection of the soul.”

“Like blood.” Sybl smelled the rose. But it wasn’t doing much for her. While his channel was simple, hers was likely the most complicated thing the universe could create. “Am I like the only creature on this whole planet who has blue eyes?”

Kas decided to leave the White Death out of his answer, as well as any other dragon. “You are one of the few who have the color of pure destiny in their eyes. You should be more than content with that.”

“You mean there’s someone else other than me?”

Kas didn’t answer and started painting another rose. Even after throwing out Hain, her memories of Cirrus didn’t return. Now he wasn’t as sure that it had been the merc erasing her memories of the White Death. He dipped his fingers in the blue paint, and touched her nose before she could dodge it.

“Hey!” Sybl tried to wipe the paint off of her nose, only to smear it worse in the process.

“Perhaps I should try more unconventional methods to help you remember your past life.”

“You’re so mean,” Sybl said, as she took the spare brush from the pail. “Just for that, I’m painting your entire room a bright red while you sleep.”

“I have nothing to fear then, as I have not slept since I was a newborn.”

Sybl looked at the rose bush for where to start practicing.

“Which one is the most red to you?”

“Um… They’re all like the same color of red.”

“Then your best guess.”

Sybl started to paint a rose, before realizing that it was trickier than it looked. When she couldn’t get it as neat as Kas could, she decided to paint him while he looked the other way.

He wiped the blue off of his face and into his white sleeve. “Try that again.”

“Okay.” She laughed and went for him again, but he caught her and tackled her to the ground. Then he used her own brush to paint more of her face.

“Hey! Stop!” Sybl tried to get free of him, but he didn’t let her go until she was mostly blue, and they couldn’t laugh anymore.

Kas stood up. He smiled as he realized that in painting her, he had painted most of himself as well.

“I’m so not feeling the color of ‘pure destiny’ right now,” Sybl said as she sat up, and tried to get her long wavy strands of hair back in order, including her newest blue ones. Then she stopped running her fingers through her hair and stared up at him.

Kas wasn’t able to guess what she was thinking, and decided to cheat by looking into her psi. Only then did he realize he couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed like this, but she had.

He sat back down, and looked at his rose bush as the memories they shared of the first Aster was slowly drowned out with silence. “There are not enough flowers here to cure the world’s sufferings. The sickness of the Aeger cannot be cured with flower petals, and few spirits are healed by their beauty.”

“One Fay cannot save the world. But it’s important that we show that we haven’t given up and keep trying.”

Kas nodded in agreement. “Perhaps the stubborn ones against us simply need to be painted a different color. Tomorrow I will try purple.”

Sybl picked up the blue rose he had given her. “Nah, try white.”

“The red will bleed through…”

Sybl giggled as she got to her feet.

Kas looked back at the rose bush with a more determined expression. “Keep trying, I get it.”