Chapter 3: The Garden

Sage awakened to find himself lying amidst a breathtaking expanse of hedges adorned with vibrant flowers. Shielding his eyes from the blinding sun, he slowly sat up and took in the beauty of his surroundings—the king's garden in the heart of Odran's capital. The majestic bronze and porcelain castle loomed above the garden, reaching towards the heavens. Bathed in the sun's golden rays, the garden seemed to radiate a warm, enchanting glow. Everywhere he looked, a multitude of brightly colored flowers lined the pathways, forming exquisite frames around the maze-like garden. The air was alive with the symphony of buzzing cicadas and the cheerful chirping of birds, creating a serene ambiance. Amidst the delightful sounds of nature, a faint, melodic humming caught Sage's attention.

It was a gentle serenade emanating from the voice of a young girl. As Sage ventured further, his steps led him along a winding path that stretched towards an exquisite alabaster sculpture of a divine stag. A young girl, her dark chestnut locks cascading down her shoulders, stood beside the elegant statue. Clad in a flowing white dress that accentuated her graceful presence, she delicately adorned the stag's broad antlers with an array of meticulously chosen flowers. Her voice carried an otherworldly melody, known mostly to the spiritual druidic race—the Saterans. The nature that surrounded her swayed in harmony, captivated by the ancient hymn.

Sage's heart stirred with a familiar nostalgia, recognizing this moment as an echo from his distant past. He allowed himself to be transported back in time, observing from the depths of his own memories, as if becoming a silent witness to his younger self. Drawing closer, he approached the young girl, his voice a gentle whisper. "I found this for you." His outstretched hand revealed a rare, uniquely colored flower, its petals adorned with hues of deep purple. The girl paused in her task of adorning the stag's antlered crown, her hand coming to rest on the wide brim of her hat. Turning towards him, her warm honey-colored eyes met his gaze, catching him off guard with their depth and sincerity. A serene energy radiated from her, enveloping Sage in a warm, peaceful place. Her straw hat, adorned with an elegant violet silk ribbon that trailed gracefully over her shoulder, lent an air of charm to her appearance. The same shade of violet graced the ruffled hem of her dress skirt, featuring a delicate floral pattern that mirrored the adornments on her sleeves. Her fair complexion, akin to the warmth of a ripe peach, complimented her natural beauty. Lips with a natural plum tint shimmered slightly, coated with an oily balm to keep them smooth. A necklace of woven twine hung around her neck, bearing a distinctive green pendant that was secured by the wrap of an elegant gold coil.

Her name was Kalina Callis, the daughter of the esteemed Sateran head priestess Aria, and Sage found solace in her gaze. But alongside that comfort, he also sensed his own vulnerability. At thirteen years of age, Sage and Kalina were lifelong childhood friends. However, Kalina as a Sateran carried much more experience, having a mind merged with her predecessors which carried the wisdom accumulated from previous bloodlines.The profound bond between the two had sparked the idea of an interweaving of the Sateran and Arohkae families through marriage, and thus they had been arranged to fulfill this destined union. Their resolute choice to be together was met with open arms by the world around them. The merging of their two nations would forge an unbreakable bond, destined to become one of the most formidable alliances in the vast realm of Aslaeria.

A soft, bashful smile graced Kalina's lips as she delicately accepted the flower he offered, her eyes briefly sparkling with a playful glimmer. "It's beautiful, Sage," she replied, her voice filled with genuine admiration as she examined the intricate petals. Meeting his gaze again, her smile grew brighter, radiating warmth before she gracefully added the flower to the ornate statue. The addition completed the decorative masterpiece she had set out to create. Satisfied with her creation, she glanced at Sage once more, gratitude twinkling in her eyes. "Thank you."

Restlessness gripped Sage, his fingers instinctively finding refuge in scratching the back of his head as he grappled with a whirlwind of unfamiliar emotions. He sensed the telltale heat spreading across his cheeks, prompting him to glance aside, hoping to shield his bashful moment from Kalina's gaze. Determined to steer the conversation away from his flustered state, he sought a change of topic. "Why are you decorating it?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued. Kalina turned her gaze towards him, her eyes widening with an innocent surprise, capturing his attention.

"To honor Odran, the spirit of these lands," she replied, her voice brimming with pride. Confusion flickered across Sage's features as he sought clarity.

"But isn't that the name of this kingdom?" he questioned, his uncertainty tugging at him. Kalina's laughter rang out, a tinkling melody that dissolved any lingering doubts.

"The kingdom is named after the ancient stag spirit," she explained, her laughter laced with warmth and amusement.

Suddenly, a towering Arohk man strode towards them, capturing their attention. He possessed an air of confidence, his medium-length black hair cascading around his face. The charcoal-colored wings sprouting from his back featured white-tipped feathers, evidence of exposure to the potent Sateran magic that had a bleaching effect similar to that from sunlight. Two locks of silvery white hair stood out from the center of his forehead, a striking contrast against his dark locks. His ruggedly handsome visage showcased a chiseled jawline, adorned with a five o'clock shadow that accentuated his masculinity. A prominent scar marked his left cheek, curving back towards his cheekbone, hinting at a past filled with battles and trials. Dressed in a navy doublet akin to the attire of Arohk soldiers, his ensemble boasted black decals and accents of light blue and silver, adding a touch of regality to his appearance. The light leather armor he wore featured intricate gold detailing, a testament to his attention to detail and refined taste. Beads of sweat glistened in his hair, evidence of his recent exertions to navigate the earthy maze. Around his neck, a worn, faded red scarf was wrapped, its fabric bearing the signs of countless journeys. An additional decorative rope with round wooden beads adorned the scarf, adding a touch of individuality to his appearance. A gentle smile graced Lord Ethan's lips as he finally located the two young companions, relief washing over him.

"There you are! You two were quite elusive in this maze," he exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead and glancing at Kalina. "Your brother Enzo sent word for you. He mentioned that your father and he will be departing for home soon," he added, emphasizing the urgency of the matter.

Kalina, displaying her customary grace, extended her gratitude to Lord Ethan with a polite nod of her head. Hastily gathering her dress with one hand while clutching her hat with the other, she bid her farewell.

"Thank you for informing me, Lord Ethan. Until later," she uttered hurriedly, her voice filled with a sense of urgency. With a fleeting glimpse of her barefoot form darting through the garden, she vanished from sight, leaving the young Arohk boy standing before the regal lord.Taking a moment to compose himself, the young boy turned his attention to his father.

"Father," he began, a hint of curiosity lacing his voice. Ethan leaned in, his interest piqued.

"Yes?" he responded, encouraging his son to continue.

"Do we have any books at home about the stag spirit?" the boy inquired, his eyes brimming with eagerness. The Arohk lord furrowed his brows in contemplation, racking his memory.

"I believe I may have some of your mother's old books on that very subject," he muttered, scratching his head in recollection. As his gaze shifted back to Sage, he noticed the young boy's restlessness, a clear indication of his desire to return home and unearth those precious tomes. A wistful smile played upon Ethan's lips, his fingers gently caressing the wooden beads that adorned his scarf. Each smooth touch carried a tender gesture. "Well, he certainly didn't inherit that trait from me," he murmured softly, the words escaping his lips in a quiet breath.