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“Come to the gardens, you’ll love it here!” The elderly imperial called to Zahrasha every day. He had been a botanist in his younger days, but as the years passed both he and the gardens had become old and decrepit. Still, they were his pride and joy – so much, in fact, that he never left them. Each day Zahrasha passed by the entrance, and each day he called to her. “Come in, dear, the blooms are simply stunning today!” Finally, feeling sorry for the old fellow, the young skydancer decided to humor him.

As she passed through the gates, a sinking feeling passed through her body. She had no time to consider this, however, for the old one was already ushering her in enthusiastically. “Come, come, the best parts are in the center!” Zahrasha winced as the thorns covering the path pricked her feet painfully, but struggled to follow the other dragon. Twisted trees blanketed the land on each side, so thick that she could barely see past them. Every now and then they would pass topiaries shaped like dragons, remarkably well-kept compared to everything else. “Don’t get too close to them, dear. Hard to keep them in good condition as it is, can’t have you disturbing them!”

The rough path got smaller and smaller until it was nonexistent. Zahrasha panted, unable to keep up with the imperial’s fast pace. How could someone who looked so fragile move that quickly? “Hey…where did you go?” Her voiced echoed eerily through the gardens. There was no answer.

A week later, there was still not an answer. Every day she called for him in vain. Her voice grew hoarse, and at night she would cry till her tears dried up.

A month later, vines had begun to cover her legs and tail. At first she tried to claw them off, but as they always grew back within a day, she soon gave up.

During the second month, her soft fur had taken on an odd, barklike quality. She tried to scratch that off, too, but it only got worse. After a while, it didn’t feel so odd anymore.

In the third month, the bark – for it was most certainly bark – split as pointed vines grew out of what was once her skin. She did not touch them. She did not care anymore. In fact, she was happy. Why had she ever cried? Aren’t the roses lovely here?

In the center of the garden, there is a topiary bearing a remarkable resemblance to a skydancer. It is a tangle of vines and thorns, a massive rose forming its head. Such a shame no one visits here anymore, for the topiaries are ever so beautiful. I am so lovely. Beautiful, red, blooming blooming blooming. Always, always.

A pretty young pearlcatcher passes the gate of an ancient garden. She pauses at the sight of an old imperial. “Come to the gardens, you’ll love it here!” Perhaps one day soon she will humor him.








By:Wendicat
(Lore By:LunarParadox)


By:theautumnroad