Watching Petals

      Author's note: This story works as a standalone, but if you'd like to read more, it also builds off the events here: //www.neopets.com/ntimes/index.phtml?section=586496&week=958.

      ”When you accepted my invitation, I was surprised.”

     “Well,” replied the Darigan Eyrie, whose black formal coat and trousers clashed heavily with the dazzling floral scene before them, “I thought it was about time that I said, ‘yes.’ You’ve been asking me for years, Marielle.”

     “Wasn’t there always something happening before, Serian? Something about…” the red Usul rolled her hand as she fished around for the words, “Peace negotiations with the Citadel?”

     Serian combed through his hair and mane with his clawed hand. “Some years yes, some years no.” Noticing his half-sister’s expression sadden, he added, “I’m truly sorry for never making the time—that was unkind of me.”

     She exhaled lightly as she bent down to smell a purple hyacinth and hummed with satisfaction from its strong aroma. “Well, you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

     Carpets of mountain pinks fringed the pathway of the Meridell Botanical Garden. Lush magnolias, cherry blossoms, and flowering pear trees covered the lawn. Pastel tulips numbering in the thousands spread into the distance. Everywhere, Spingabees and Beekadoodles flit this way and that, happily harvesting nectar from each bloom.

      Neopians from around the region—notably, even a few Darigans—strolled around a complex web of garden beds. Ever since the Tri-National Summit, a few brave Darigans wandered around Meridell and Brightvale. Most of them were young and adventurous, either seeking work or the thrill of a new place. The Meridell Botanical Gardens, being as famous as they were, continued to be a big international draw. Blankets with picnic baskets spread across the grass around a large lake where gently blowing cherry blossoms reflected in the placid waters. Small groups of bikers pedalled down the cobble paths, braking to take in the view.

      There was a feeling of ease, of peace that the siblings had little experience with growing up during the Great Meridell Wars (although the Citadel preferred to call them “The Orb Wars.”) Seeing that peace for themselves, it almost seemed surreal, as if someone had trapped them in a dream and only showed them their most fervent wishes. Serian looked especially uncomfortable, picking at his jacket whenever a stray petal stuck to the surface.

     “Why don’t we see the cherry blossoms first?” Marielle gestured to the inch-high layer of petals that fell from the grandest tree. So thick was the petal rain that it looked like a pink blizzard—yet, the tree still brimmed with blooms.

     Serian nodded, keeping his hands largely in his pockets as he did.

     Families of Neopians gathered around all around the grand tree’s trunk. A few even stood arm-in-arm as portrait painters with pre-painted scenes filled in the Neopians’ heads and hands. Meanwhile, children ran about with fistfuls of petals, throwing them into the air or at each other. Their laughter filled the air. As Serian and Marielle approached, a few of the Neopians stopped to stare, clearly taken aback by the tall Darigan’s presence. Others walked conspicuously towards the lake, artist in tow.

     Seeing all this go down, Serian muttered under his breath, “Looks like we have the spot to ourselves, at least.”

     Unlike her half-brother, Marielle seemed to practically skip around the tree, her face lighting up at the beauty of the scene. It was only flowers that made her this happy, Serian noted. Few other things could glean even the slightest of joy from her eyes.

      “Isn’t this amazing?” there was a rise to her voice. It sounded like she was almost singing. “I’ve never seen it this bright!”

     He felt joy for her—it was one of the first times he had seen her smile in a while, especially after everything that happened that winter. Pushing the uncomfortable thoughts away, he shuffled behind and left a clear trail in the pink blanket. For a while, he gazed up as the thickest trunks of the ancient cherry blossom, watching how its mighty branches spread and divided. A family of Weewoos cooed at one another over their occupied nest. When they nestled in together, he let out a contented sigh. Maybe going here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

     “I like your necklace.”

     Serian snapped to attention. Standing no further than 5 feet away, there was a little Lenny with yellow feathers, oversized orange feet, and large eyes. The tip of their single head plume scarcely made it to Serian’s thighs.

     “My…” his mouth hung open as he patted his ruff, “necklace?”

     Up until then, he hardly noticed the ring of cherry blossom petals that had stuck to his mane like a braided flower necklace. It took every bit of effort not to brush them off then and there, not when there was a little one watching.

     “This is mine, see?” the Lenny pointed to a silk crown spring flowers with a beaming smile. “My name is Sarah!” She inched closer, which caused the Darigan to instinctively step back; she continued to approach. “What’s your name?”

     Scanning the crowd, he desperately searched for anyone that looked even remotely similar to the Lenny—or at very least, someone who seemed to be in a rush to scurry her away to safety.

     “Where are your parents, Sarah?”

     She teetered back and forth, holding a wing feather up to her beak. “I dunnoooo.”

      Serian clicked his tongue against the roof of his beak. At this point, Marielle had noticed the two and was rushing back. Worried about the number of stares he was starting to receive, he crouched down so as to be on eye level with the Lenny. When he looked straight at her, she grew bashful and played with the flower crown.

     “Let’s find them together.”

     A single petal fell on Sarah’s nose and she giggled. “Okay, mister!”

     “Serian, what’s going on?” his sister, catching her breath between words, had a fearful look on her face.

     “Lost chi—”

     “That’s a pretty name!” she plucked a few petals from his mane and placed them on her head. “Thanks for the flowers, Serian.”

     The Darigan Eyrie gritted his beak before slumping his shoulders and sighing. “We can’t just leave her out here alone…”

     “Yes, we can.” There was a firmness in her voice that he was unaccustomed to. “Think of how Neopians would react if they saw—”

     “I’m gonna go over to the lake and feed the Mallards!” the child chirped, breaking off towards the water. “Betcha can’t get there faster than me!”

     “Sarah!” Serian balled his hands into fists. “For the love of Darigan…” while Marielle was shaking her head, he stood up and followed behind. “She could get hurt out here alone!”

     Marielle tailed him, letting her frustration show. “Since when did you care so much about Meridellian children?”

     “Since I served for years as an international peacekeeper!”

     “But that’s…” Marielle stopped to catch her breath, “… different…”

     Near the lake was a small wooden shack with a hand-painted sign that read, “Feed the Central Lake Mallards—only 250NP a bag!” A short-haired, teenaged green Mynci in an orange “Quack Pack” t-shirt and jeans leaned over the counter with disinterest. When Sarah arrived first—and alone—she straightened up her posture and looked for an accompanying adult.

     “I wanna feed the Mallards!” chirped Sarah, fluttering her wings fast enough to float her a few inches into the air. “Can I pleeeeease feel the Mallards, Miss?”

     Before the teen could reply, Serian came from behind, muttering under his breath. Given his dark choice of dress and severe expression, the Mynci nearly bolted from the shack then and there. And she would have if not for what the Darigan Eyrie said next.

     “This child is lost—who I can talk to get her reunited with her family?”

     It took a few seconds for what he said to register.

     “Can you help her?” Serian urged as the Mynci seemed to come back into reality. “She’s too young to be wandering around alone.”

     “U-uh, y-yes, Sir Darigan—I mean, Mr. Darigan—I mean—” she slapped her forehead. “Yes, sir. I can help.”

     “Sir Darigan?” Serian blinked a few times, then scoffed. “That’s a new one. Well, anyway—great. Who should—”

     “I wanna feed the Mallards!” Sarah stood on her tippy toes so that the Mynci teen was barely in view from below. “I wanna feed them now!”

     Serian could feel a headache rising. “Maybe another time. We need to find—”

     Sarah began to pout. A high-pitched whine escaped from her beak. Sensing the many eyes on him, he scrambled into his money pouch, laid down 500NP and gestured for two bags of cracked corn. The Mynci handed him the bags, which Serian then gave to the now smiling child.

     Not missing a beat, she tore open the first bag and dug her little wing into the corn. “Thanks, Serian!” The corn hit the water with a hearty toss, exciting the nearby Mallards, all of which were happily quacking.

     ”What a convincing little actor Sarah is, thought the Eyrie, who suppressed an eye roll, Kass would have rewarded that behaviour . He certainly did when Serian was a young Eyrie, praising him for all the wrong things—cultivating a perfect tool for war. He bit back such thoughts, hoping that they wouldn’t be all too clear on his mood ring eyes.

     “What are you… doing…?” Finally caught up, Marielle stood in place and panted. “Goodness, brother… you run… too fast…”

     Hearing Marielle, a red Usul, calling the Darigan Eyrie her brother made the Mynci’s eyes bulge.

     “Placating her, for now, sister,” the Eyrie sighed with frustration, then turned to the Mynci. “We can keep her right here where she’ll be safe. Can you find someone to help in the meantime?”

     “Uhh, uhh…” the teen wavered for a minute before focusing her gaze on his claws, “sharp, sir! I-I mean, uh”—they tapped their reddening cheeks a few times—"why did I say that? Silly me.” She let out a forced laugh while Serian shifted with discomfort. “I can—I-I-I can get a garden security worker?”

     “Yes, do that,” he sighed, hoping the crease in his brow wasn’t scaring them even more. “Thank—”

     “We should turn her over to this food vendor,” Marielle said, her tone serious. “She—”

     “Will start wailing the moment anyone takes her away from what she wants, drawing negative attention from literally every Neopian in the park.” He exhaled. “You and I both know how that would end.”

     Marielle’s eyes blazed dark blue with anger. Seeing the scene before him, the teen dashed off, leaving the shack’s door swinging wide open. “What Sarah wants is not what she needs. And what she needs are her parents.”

     “And she’ll get them in—”

     Serian felt a little tug on his pant leg. “Hey, Serian. Can I show you something?”

     “Sure, Sarah.” He turned away from his fuming sister. “What do you want to show me?”

     A gaggle of Mallards had walked out of the pond and were begging for corn. When she put some on her hand, two Mallards gobbled it up. “H-hey! That tickles!” she squealed.

     When the petpets finished their snack, they clamoured for more, which the little girl was more than happy to oblige.

      Marielle fidgeted, trailing her gaze towards where she last saw the Mynci. She was nowhere to be seen now… hopefully, this would mean only good things when she returned. Despite being raised as a Meridellian, Marielle always felt it best to keep those around her at arms’ length. After her mother was blamed for her father’s sickness and chased out of town, she knew what they were capable of—especially when fear of the other was at play. Serian, for all of his progress, still looked the part of a terrifying Darigan. And no amount of time would ever change that—of this she was convinced.

     Or so she thought.

     This child was playing with him, laughing, smiling. The fear she so often saw was entirely absent from her innocent face. She felt something then. Was it… hope? Could that be possible after such dark times?

     Seeing no one else approaching, Marielle bent down and picked up a stone—a relatively flat one with a triangular edge. Both of them watched with curiosity as she gripped the side with her thumb on top, with the middle and index provided support. First, she wound his arm back before releasing it down and out. The stone bounded off the water before leaping five more times, each smaller than the last.

     Sarah’s eyes lit up. She shoved the mallard feed to Serian, who had whistled under his breath in response to his sister’s rock gymnastics, and picked up a stone of her own. Tossing it underhand, the stone soared before landing no more than 10 feet away in the water with a splash. “Aww…” she whined, before picking up a small handful. Tossing them the same way, they all hit the lake with a little blub.

     Marielle had since picked up two more stones. Before Sarah could grab the one, she held up a finger.

     “Watch me first, then you can try.”

     She wiggled in anticipation. “Okay…”

     “Okay, Sarah. Hold it just like this,” she modelled the proper grip. “I am going to give this to you. Hold it, but don’t throw it yet. Understand?”

     “Mmhm!”

     As soon as the stone landed in her hand, Sarah played with her fingers until they matched Marielle’s, looking back and forth as she did. Serian just chuckled under his breath as he watched the child melt his sister’s heart.

     “That’s looking good. Now you have to spin it downwards and outwards. Make sure to stand up really tall while you do this.” Sarah stood on her tippy toes—nearly falling over. “Oh my, maybe not quite that tall…” She laughed.

     Serian did a double-take. To see her smiling over something other than flowers—and towards someone, no less—was unheard of.

     “Okay, now throw it just like this.” She modeled the throw and her stone skipped, once again, like a ballerina pirouetting over the water.

     The child happily followed her example and let the stone fly from her little wings. It hit the water at an angle and made one giant leap in the air. You could have sworn she was given the single greatest gift of her life.

     “Thank you, Ms. Serian!” she cried, to which the embarrassed siblings quickly averted their eyes from one another.

     “Marielle.” She pointed to herself, then Serian, her checks growing almost as red as her bright red headscarf. “This is Serian, my brother.”

     Sarah ran in to give Marielle a tight hug. Given how small she was, that amounted to a very enthusiastic squeeze of her stomach. Marielle wheezed, but gave a small pat the little one’s downy head.

     “Want to feed the Mallards again?” asked Serian, shaking the bag. A group of around ten of them encircled them now. One of them brazenly pushed its little green head against Serian’s boots while making noises he could only interpret as impatience.

     “Yeah!”

     It didn’t take long for the petpets to gobble through both bags. When the empty burlap bags were overturned and only crumbs fell out, there quacked amongst themselves before waddling back single file into the water.

     In the satchel around Marielle’s back was a multi-coloured blanket. She spread it down by the water and sat with her brother while Sarah did cartwheels in the nearby petal mat.

     “Did you see? Did you see?” she would ask, before doing three more, “look what I can do!”

     The siblings took a bite of the mini sandwiches that Marielle had packed and watched her at play.

     “It’s odd…” started Serian.

     “What is?”

     “Seeing a child so happy.”

     Marielle put down her half-eaten sandwich on her knee.

     “When I was young, my days were filled with combat drills and working the fields behind the orphanage so that we had something to eat. We didn’t have time for fun. Not when…” he sighed. “Well, you know.”

     “The Wars.”

     “Yeah.”

     “I was too young to fight in the first war, but that didn’t stop K”—he bit his tongue—“Sorry. Him from training us every day from the crack of dawn on.”

     Sarah jumped in front of them and rolled into a hand stand. “Look, guys!”

     “Very nice,” said Serian, to which his sister agreed. The little one continued to impress them with her feats of physical agility, her favourite being spinning around until she got too dizzy to stand.

     When she was out of earshot, Marielle whispered, “that must have been so hard.”

      “It wasn’t. That was just life.” He shrugged. “We didn’t know better.”

     Marielle put the sandwich back into the container. “Father trained me from a young age on how to run the shop. He was always worried about my future, about our future, and I guess… the future. With those sicknesses hitting so many families, he wanted to make sure if anything”—she began to choke up—“if anything happened to him that we could get by.”

     “Why are you so sad?” asked Sarah, who had since found herself within mere inches of Marielle’s face. The Usul leant back.

     “I… was just thinking of something sad, that’s all.”

     This answer seemed to placate the child as she dashed off to a nearby pile of flower petals, returning shortly with her hands held forward.

     “This is for you!” she declared, before throwing them into the air above her, making a sort of makeshift crown out of the flower rain. She pulled her mouth into a grin. “No more sad thoughts, okay? Smile!”

     “Oh…” Marielle chuckled as she wiped away a tear. “You’re a sweet child.”

     This made Sarah dance in place. “That’s what Baba tells me.”

     “Ba…baa?” asked Marielle. She and her brother shared a look. He made an open-palmed shrug. “Like the petpet?”

     “No, silly!” She laughed to herself. “That’s my—”

     “Sarah!”

     A distressed starry Ruki stood at the top of the hill alongside the teenaged Mynci and a uniformed orange Grarrl, the last of whom carried a short sword at their waist. Serian’s eyes beelined to the sword as he realized, for the first time that day, he had gone unarmed.

     Maybe peace has made me soft, he thought, wondering if his sister had been right all along.

     When the child merely waved at the Ruki but didn’t come closer, both of the siblings had a sneaking suspicion that…

     “Is this your child?” called Serian.

     “Yes!” called Baba. “Oh, my goodness, yes! I was so worried…”

     “She’s safe! We’ve been watching over her.”

     The three of them approached with caution as Marielle encouraged the child to go to her parent. Sarah shook her head. “You guys are much more fun than Baba.”

     “Please, Sarah?” Marielle practically begged. “Your Baba misses you very much. We can play later?”

     She stood firm.

     When Baba came close, their eyes were locked on Serian. The Ruki wore denim overalls with a blue top below. A golden necklace with a shooting star hung from their neck. Such a gaze Serian was used to, but unlike most of the Neopians he interacted with, there was no malice. More so… curiosity?

     “You were at the Tri-National Summit,” they said, more as a fact than a question.

     “That’s correct.” As soon as Serian confirmed, the Ruki let out an audible sigh of relief. “Were you?”

     “Indeed.” They lifted the necklace with one hand and let it shimmer in the mid-afternoon sun. With a wink, they said, “I’ll give you three guesses as to what I teach.”

     “Astronomy?”

     “Meridell’s one and only, yup!”

     Meanwhile, the teenager was twiddling her thumbs and loafing about as the security guard stepped forward. Quite a few other bystanders had gathered in the area to watch. Some even clutched onto their children’s hands.

     “I heard from this Mynci,” started the orange Grarrl in a low, rumbling bass, “that a scarfed red Usul and a scary Darigan Eyrie—sorry, Sir, that was the description—were watching a child while her parent was located?”

     Serian strained against saying something foolish. There were too many eyes on them. “That’s correct.”

     Baba dropped to their knees in the grass with their arms out. “Come on, Sarah. It’s time for lunch.”

     “Nuh-uh. I wanna stay with my new friends—they’re lots more fun.”

     The Ruki pouted. “Baba is fun, too…”

     “All you do is work, work, work…” her eyes flicked to their necklace, “or talk about stars.”

      “It’s time to go, Goober.” They sighed. “You’ve already taken enough of these nice Neopians’ time.”

     Marielle’s ears perked up; even Serian let out a surprised chuckle. It wasn’t often anyone outside of his friend group referred to him as nice.

     At very least, the guard seemed to have loosened his stiff posture, although his right hand still seemed to hover to the side where his sword lay.

     “Just to be clear,” the guard said, “Sarah ran off while you were buying her a hot dog? And she was then found by these two”—he gestured to them—”over here?”

     “Yes,” confirmed Baba. “And my young lady’s going to get a talking to later about that…” Sarah shrunk down, realizing now that their parent was not well pleased. To the crowd, they said, “this fellow is a friend of the Hero of Five Lands. He protected my lost daughter from any harm.”

     The Neopians, most of whom wore Meridell or Brightvale crests on their person, talked amongst themselves. Suffice to say that almost everyone knew about the Hero. When some of them still seemed nervous, or even scared, Baba continued.

     “I ask you—ask all of you—to think about the strengths of those around you. Think about how together, you can make something greater than yourself and change the world.”

     Serian gasped. “That’s what Rohane said—word-for-word.”

     There were tears in Marielle’s eyes. “Shows how big of an impact he made.”

     “Yeah. He did good—my rival—he always does.”

     “Your self-declared rival?” she teased.

     He puffed out his chest. “My very real, very much eternal rival, thank you very much.”

     Seeing this, Sarah copied him and giggled. “You look funny,” she declared. “I can look funny, too!”

     After the teen went back to her “Quack Pack” station and the security guard dispersed the crowd, there was an air of peace. A gentle fragrance wafted in the air from the beds of beautiful flowers. After some goading from Serian, Sarah agreed to be carried on Baba’s shoulders. They hopped up and down as the girl squealed with delight.

     “See?” They said, “Baba can be fun, too!”

     Marielle wrapped her arm around her brother’s waist and squeezed. “Thank you, Baba,” she said, “for what you did before.”

     Baba shook their head. “I’m the one that should be thanking you, not the other way around. I only told the truth—both of you brought joy to my little girl and kept her out of trouble.”

     The four of them walked to the hotdog stand where Baba insisted on treating them both. Serian and Baba spoke about the Tri-National Summit and its various speakers, but especially the keynote speaker, Rohane. While they ate, Sarah hopped to the other side of the table and stood on the siblings’ bench.

     “Yes, Sarah?” asked Marielle.

     Sarah wiggled in place a bit before she took the silk flower crown off her head and placed it on Marielle’s instead. “Now you and your brother match!” she said, suddenly bashful. “Thanks for teaching me how to skip a stone.”

     Marielle smiled, barely keeping the tears inside, as she took her little wing in her hand. “And thank you for showing me that the future is bright.”