Chapter Text
"Find me someone whose hands can mend botany!" echoed loudly in the dark tall cathedral-like castle where the queen resides. The queen, whose name has been only uttered by those who lived to tell tale as ‘The Lady of Shadows’, sat in the end of the long hallway that was decorated with mysterious findings, such as plants, weapons and whole statues that were broken in an artful way over the time, from the forgotten cities of deep dark.
The Lady of Shadows sat with an ethereal glow of power, her long, indigo dark gown softly glowed with different shades of green and blue as stars. The gown's length could make a willow tree weep with great sadness, reflecting the immense power its wearer possessed. Her hair, soft as a morning sun's pink sky, was flowing as if the wind was silently only on her at anytimes. The hair was adorned with silver jewellery that shimmers and shines whenever the sun shined at the right time. Her fair yet scared face, showing truly how many lengths she would go to ensure her power, was filled with no remorse for the workers of this castle.
The guards stood still next to her, having dark iron armour on with diamond trim mimicking patterns of skeletal insides, although of no use at this time for her as a protection, more for the maids and butlers working as bees on a summery morning.
’’Your majesty, there are no botanical workers on this land,’’ said one of the braver maids with a bow, her fair coloured hair falling to her face as she got back up showing how loosely her hair was put up.
The queen pinched her eyes shut and took a long sigh. ’’Find the best botanical gardener in any country and bring them here,’’ she demanded with a huff, her eyes still closed.
One of the personal maids of the ‘Lady’ started to hurry to one of the royal messengers to send an urgent message from the ‘Lady of Shadows’ requesting the best botanical gardener in Mazalea, as it’s known for having, although dry land, one of the most beautiful and lush gardens. The maids' hair was sticking to her forehead as she had sweated. The royal messenger nodded and hopped on their royal horse, whose main was dark and lengthy, and ran to send the delivery as fast as possible.
. . .
The royal messenger sped through multiple cities and landscapes, some soft and warm, others sophisticated and grand, their trusty royal horse trying their best to gallop in a speed of faster than normal.
After many weeks the royal messenger made it to the kingdom of Mazalea, the knights at the gate, confused when the royal messenger of the powerful and lost kingdom said their reasoning was to get the best botanical gardener back to the kingdom of where they reside. The guards accepted, letting them and their royal horse in.
The town was bustling with people of different ages in different shades of colourful loose fitting clothes, it was loud, warm and bright, much different to the kingdom of their residence. As they walked they asked an older lady for help in finding the best gardener of their country.
The lady pushed back her thick black as ebony hair, showing her sun-kissed skin with a few blotches of red-er skin. Her clothing was loose and colourful of patterns. She smiled and walked them to a shop, stating the owner of being the best of their work. Thanking the lady with a bow, making the lady look in confusion on how prim and stiff the royal messenger was, they tied their horse down to a pole, petting the royal horse as a thank you and entered the shop looking for the owner.
There was a man tending to the flowers that the shop sold. The man had a sun-kissed tan, with small scars visible and freckles all over him, his rich chestnut coloured hair which was a bit long, being tied to two small cute pigtails. The man had a dull purple shirt on which had three-quarter sleeves rolled and wore khaki shorts with white gloves on that had dulled over time to a pale yellow.
The royal messenger had asked if he was the owner hoping for a yes, as the man got up from his tending to the flowers he said yes and asked where they were from. ’’A forgotten kingdom long lost of its name,’’ said the royal messenger while the man was surprised. ’’What am I service oh mighty forgotten kingdom messenger?’’ had asked the man, with a hint of sarcasm softly heard.
As the royal messenger stated their reasoning the man accepted with a bit of hesitation, thinking it had been a trap.
As they throated on the royal messenger's horse to leave the kingdom of Mazalea.
. . .
The ‘Lady of Shadows’ was a patient woman, she had come victorious to the throne somehow afterall, yet her wish to make the kingdom more approachable for other countries and help her kingdom thrive even more was beginning to make her hair grey.
She waited for weeks, in the while making plans on where and whose buildings would be gifted of lush greenery.
Deciding on places like schools and kindergartens for children to have more motivation and less thorny plants that have died due to the last war.
She walked around her library that had books of long forgotten languages, countries and fairytales and sat on her deep dark maroon fainting chair, clashing weirdly nice with her indigo dark long flowy gown she often was adorned with.
She sighed, finding nothing interesting to read as she had already read everything . . . twice.
She lounged at the fainting chair and thought to herself of different ways the royal messenger could come back. She sighed yet again and got her diary, which was hidden under a desk, and wrote down her thoughts, not that she cared if anybody found it as she never wrote anything truly personal in there.
. . .
The botanist and the royal messenger finally got to the kingdom, with the royal horse slowly becoming slower with its walking.
As the botanist looked around, it looked. . . grand? He couldn't call it bland or boring as it had the most beautiful churches and houses in general, not to mention the gorgeous castle where the queen resides.
But there was something . . . dull about it; no plants, trees, grass, nothing! It was like a waste land, but not? A gorgeous deadland filled with dead coral and bushes, but a deadland nonetheless.
The botanist shook his head and got down from the horse. As the royal messenger walked him by on what he should expect he was promptly pushed into the throne room where the ‘Lady of Shadows’ sat menacingly, one of her eyes hidden by the long hair she had floating around.
The botanist just looked confused and cleared his throat, ’’I was wanted here because of my skills?’’ he asked, trying to make some type of small talk.
There was an awkward minute of silence until the ‘Lady of Shadows’ got up from her throne and walked down to the botanists level, as she walked her long trail of hair followed her, flowing at the tips like seafoam crashing against the beachy sand.
As she made her way down, the gardener had to look up further at the queen who was a few centimeters tall and it was very visible.
She tilted her head, the jewellery clicking as they were falling down to her face as she did so, looking further down at him: ’’Are you truly the one whose best at their work?’’
The botanist looked . . . offended? Scratch that, very offended, tilting his head up further and looked her in the eye, ’’You wanted me here, I just obligated’’, he snapped at her, not rudely and not unkindly, just stating the truth as he had never been in a presence with a royal member so he spoke the way he always did.
The queen squinted her eyes, looking suspicious of him until she got back up to her full height and turned away, ’’Make use of yourself and plan this garden on the court for tomorrow,’’ she said, pointing towards a window that showed the court ‘garden’.
The botanist sighed, getting ready by opening his bag and taking out a big and old sketchbook with a pencil that clearly had been sharpened with a knife. He went out, admiring the gorgeous door that led to it, and started to look at the area while measuring around.