Garden of Secrets

“Do you have the flowers ready?”

I had been lost in thought staring at the woven basket full of vibrant yellow orange marigolds. The flower of the dead. My sister and I were going to our parents' gravesite to offer these flowers in honoring their passing. I trailed a finger gently over the soft petals remembering how much my mother loved them.

“Yes, Crystia. They’re ready to go.” I smiled standing up and brushing the dirt off my washed-out trousers. My capes thick emerald robes hung off the shoulders of my low cut cream blouse matching the emerald and black lace bodice snug against my figure.

“Good, I’ll put them in the carriage.” My older sister grabbed the basket by its ornate handle and started making her way through the large garden. “Oh, and Amaya. Be sure to act normal please. The rest of our family will be there, we don’t need another… incident.” She spoke, looking back over her slim shoulder covered in fine silk.

I didn’t respond aloud. I simply nodded and avoided eye contact. Being “different” was never easy around here. Always told to stay proper, have manners and listen to your elders. But most of all you should never, by any means, show that you have an affinity for magic. Only heretics and monsters could control elements and manipulate the world around them. Our mother was born with an affinity to earth magic. Forced to hide this and marry into a rich family, she was never truly happy with life even though my father loved her till the very end. I unfortunately was born just like her. Crystia was lucky enough to be skipped, to avoid this curse that I now had to deal with.

Looking back down at the marigolds swaying in the soft breeze, a familiar warmth rushing over my skin, I twirled a finger causing more flowers to sprout around me. I felt at home in our estates garden. Safe from the prying eyes of suiters waiting to take my sisters hand in marriage. Away from the nosey servants and care takers. Away from everyone. Left to be my true self. The gardens were my mother’s safe place as well. She taught me how to control my power here so that I could stay hidden better than she did.

“Miss Lockhart, it’s time to go.” A gruff yet warm voice broke my train of thought bringing me back to reality. It was Graves, the only butler that I trusted. He watched after my mom when she was young, which could only mean he was ancient even though he didn’t look it.

“Graves, I told you to please stop calling me that. Just Amaya is fine… You’re going to the service too, right? I really don’t want to go without you.” I asked him turning around to see his usual soft brown eyes gazing at me. His expression answered my question, he wouldn’t be going.

With a nod and smile Graves led me through the garden around the side of our godly home. I was relieved we weren’t going into the mansion as I didn’t want to see anyone right now. My hands were trembling at the thought of my powers gaining the upper hand at the memorial. Most of the family and other stuck up wealthy figures would be there.

“I can sense your trepidation young Amaya. You’ll be fine.” Graves stopped, we were a few feet away from the large black war horses that stood out against the pure white and gold carriage. “Here, take this. It was your mothers. It helped keep her calm, knowing that no matter what, if you need my help, I will be there.” He was holding out his hand, a small marigold incased in glass hung from a black silk band.

I wasn’t sure how a choker would help me. Sure, it was gorgeous, capturing the vibrant beauty of the bright orange flower as it glinted in the sun light. But I didn’t need a flower to go with me. I needed my only friend. The only person that knew I shared my mothers curse and still loved me regardless.

“Thank you, Graves.”

He helped me put the silk around my slim neck while I held my thick shoulder length red curls up in place. The cold glass lay in line with my collar bones sending a chill down my spine.

“You’ll be alright. Just place your hand around the glass and think of me. I promise, I’ll help you in your time of need.”

Before I could turn around to speak, Graves was already gone. Like he was never there. He had a habit of doing that. I looked at the carriage seeing my sister step inside while another servant made their way to me forcing me to leave. Forcing me to spend the next few hours dreading my own existence.

The journey to the towns main burial grounds hadn’t taken too long. My sister and I didn’t speak the entire ride there. I kept my focus on the basket of marigolds, distracted by my mother’s image. Her long flowing crimson hair, bright green eyes, and soft facial features always calmed me.

“Have you heard a word I've said?”

Crystias sharp voice broke through my wall instantly reminding me of how much I didn’t want to be around all these people.

“I’m sure you were just lecturing me about things I already know.” My monotone words never hurt my strong sister. No matter what I said she always remained so calm and unfazed.

“Whatever. You could’ve at least changed into your dress. Those trousers are faded and make you look like a servant.” She stopped talking as the carriage came to a stop. We could hear the low hum of people talking and gathering around to see us. Well, to see Crystia. She was the heiress after all.

My sister really was a sight to behold. She got her jet-black hair and sharp facial features from our father and the forest green eyes of our mother. Tall and slender, her elegant red and black gown was fitted above the waist, long red flowing silk sleeves hung from her shoulders. From her hips down the dress hit the floor and glided behind her, the black lace embroidered along the many layers of fabric with small rimstones glittered in the dusk sun light. Her hair was in a held up with red lace ribbons braided throughout gently flowing as she walked. She looked like a queen of the night. Mysterious, elegant, and dangerous.

No one bothered to gaze at me for too long, not that I cared. Crystia could have all the attention. I was more comfortable being ignored. My hand made its way up to the cold glass marigold helping me calm myself. We walked through the ornate church corridors until we made it out the back to the large expanse of the burial grounds.

Once we made it to my parents’ large tombstones, I could feel people staring at me. They had put a statue of my father up, he seemed to be watching over the grave.

Alexander and Guinevere Lockhart.

Just seeing my mothers name caused an ache in my heart. Knowing my parents’ death was at the hands of assassins made my blood boil. People still blame my mother, saying her magic and heresy were the cause of my father’s death. If he hadn’t married her then assassins wouldn’t have hunted them down. But that couldn’t be true. The love they had for each other was real. My father knew about the curse of magic, but he chose not to care, he gave my mother a garden to escape to, he always had her back no matter what people said.

“Haven’t you heard? The youngest daughter shares the curse of her awful mother. She’ll probably get our dear Lady Crystia killed for it.”

“Quite down, you don’t want everyone to hear you.”

The barely whispered words came from behind me. I knew the vile voices. They were my fathers younger twin sisters, my own relatives unfortunately. The service hadn’t even started yet, but I was ready to leave. Ready to run away before I let loose and put those wenches their place. I may not see eye to eye with my sister, but I would never put her in harm’s way.

“Quite down for what? We all know she’s worthless. No sane man will ever marry her. What good does she do the family name? We should exile her before she brings more misfortune to us all.”

I felt the all too familiar warmth growing inside me, my skin prickled with anger. I tried to keep my wits about me, but their words just echoed in my head. The ground beneath my feet began to rumble, the roots of the large trees moving in tune to my heart. Crystia was a few feet ahead of me kneeling in front of our parents’ grave, laying out the marigolds when she too felt the shift in the Earth causing her to quickly stand up and look back at me. Her eyes full of terror knowing it was too late to stop me.

“Amaya no!”

Her cry rang out as she tried to run to me, but large roots erupted out of the soft ground blocking her way. She fell back, the basket she held flying up in the air causing the rest of the marigolds to spread across the area. Shrieks and cries filled the air as my power flowed out of me and into the Earth. Large roots destroyed the burial grounds, the trees seemed to be attacking those around me. My head throbbed, knees weak, I fell to the ground grasping at Graves’ gift. Begging for it all to stop.

The wind picked up, whipping my hair and my cape around me. The cold air felt like ice against my skin, heavy droplets of rain started to fall. In a few seconds the sky had turned dark with large storm clouds and the wind was strong enough to blow people running away over. I struggled to see what happened to my sister, she was taking cover against the tree root that had knocked her over. She looked helpless, nothing like the stoic women I knew.

Just when I felt like I might pass out a hand gripped my shoulder. Surprise filled my eyes as I looked up to see Graves kneeling beside me. I fought back tears as he smiled down at me bringing his free hand to my shaky ones still wrapped around the cold glass.

“I told you. I will always be here to help.” His words broke me. Tears ran uncontrollably down my face as I threw myself into his arms grabbing hold of him.

The wind subsided; the rain slowed to a drizzle; orange petals were strewn about the burial grounds. The glow of the sunset had returned hitting the marigold on my chest just right, its petals emitting a warmth that filled the air. I knew I wouldn’t be able to return home after this. And I didn’t care.