Symbolization of the title flower · A magic spell
If I were bigger, I could have done more for Faðir.
It pained Kristjan to think that he simply hadn’t been old enough to care properly for his fading father. He wondered how much longer the old wolf would have survived if his son could only provide; provide food, medicine, comfort, protection, and stability. If Gunnar hadn’t still had all those responsibilities, if he’d just had one more grown-up to help him heal, if Kristjan had been able to take over for him,
if, if, if…
The boy made to swallow what felt like a large pebble in his throat. But it remained lodged there, straining his breaths as he crouched shrinkingly before the massive headstone that loomed over his father’s grave. The wind blew ominously through his coat, and the scent of rain laid heavy on the afternoon air. He looked to his left, then to his right, then stood up and put his forepaws on the patriarch stone. His mis-matched eyes gave a pleading look up to the impassive rock face.
Please… please, Patriarch Stone,
he whimpered quietly, he begged.
If you give him back, I’ll- I promise to be a very good son. I’ll take care of him this time, and- and I will never leave him.
His legs trembled as no answer came.
Please! I’ll do anything you want, I swear.
He pressed his paws harder into the stone, hoping to shake it, perhaps even topple it, but nothing gave. The patriarch was as immovable as it was silent.
Battling back a sob, Kristjan placed his cheek upon the stone.
Please, give him back to us.
Stage three: bargaining.
Why are you talking to a rock?
Swiftlet rounded the stones and cocked his head at the older pup, his question slightly muffled from the old deer leg he carried between his teeth. He had heard Kristjan talking but had missed what was said.
His expression was one of puzzlement. Swift did not understand the talking-to-a-stone bit. He did not understand the other pup's sad mood either, or the way he braced himself against the boulder with his cheek pressed to it.
Oh!
Kristjan flinched away from the stone, surprised by the sudden appearance of Swift. Um…
He quickly dropped down on all fours again, rubbed his nose across his foreleg, and gave himself a shake to regain some semblance of composure. I was…
It was hard to explain. He looked up at the giant rock looming above them both, then turned back to the silverbacked boy.
Well, Tauris says the stones watch over us. So, I thought- I dunno, maybe since they are bigger an’ stronger, that they could, um, maybe do something for me?
It sounded stupid now that he laid his plan out, especially since his ask pertained to raising the dead. It will prob’ly not work, but…
His mother had encouraged him to try new things, though he didn’t want to say that. I do not have another idea yet.
Drool dribbling down the deer leg and off his chin, Swiftlet stared blankly while the other pup struggled to explain why he was talking to this boulder. Fortunately for Kristjan, his self-conscious mannerisms were largely lost on his spectator, who was quite open to believing there was a perfectly good reason to be conversing with stones.
Hmm.
He dropped the deer leg and considered at length what Kristjan had to say, his green eyes slowly moving from the Patriarch to the other pup and back several times over. Once he even glanced around the entirety of the circle. For his efforts to understand, Swift only grew more baffled as he dangled on a particular observation he wasn't able to get past.
But...
He hesitated, pausing to chew on the fact that his own mother had been the one to advise Kristjan in this matter, and he trusted her without question. These stones have no eyes...