The Battle of the Flowers

The wind rose suddenly. All the trees of the forest waved their branches in unison like a ballet. The sound of the rustling of leaves on top of each other made the air heavier and as the wind picked up, the urgency to take cover increased. Under their footsteps, the earth seemed to give off a moist and dense odor that tickled their nostrils. They tried their best to move faster, but it became inevitable… The confrontation would indeed take place, that wind was more than just a storm.

Maret hurried, still a few meters and they as well as their sisters would be safe in the city. The city in the trees was known everywhere in the kingdom of the fairies. Several epic fights had been won here. Moreover, one came from everywhere to admire the beauty and the ingenuity of this place. A city suspended in thousand-year-old trees. Each building and house connected by a system of pulleys and complex elven wires. It was possible to spend one’s life there without even setting foot on the ground; rocked by the cracking of the trees and protected by the breath of the wind. Maret and her community lived in harmony with the trees. A perfectly balanced exchange of energy, without any polarity. An admirable flow maintained between fairies and trees. A symbiosis never seen anywhere, not even elsewhere in the fairy kingdom.

Then it had started slyly… The first Tarmacs had come in small groups claiming to want to admire this complex construction. They had come again and again becoming more oppressive and nosy with their thousand and one questions. They insisted on visiting the sacred halls, they also said they wanted to convert to the energy of trees, flowers, earth and wind. They drew a lot and justified themselves by saying that these drawings would allow them to reproduce this indescripable alchemy in their own cities.

Maret had regained the security of her home and was busy hiding the flowers, in the lining of her blanket, in cauldrons and in the bottom of cupboards. Flowers that heal the ills of the soul and those of the flesh. That’s what they came to attack them for. These so special flowers grew in the dark, coiled up inside the trees. They were the heart, the soul, the ultimate energy of creation.

Holding her breath, Maret felt her heart beating wildly. She knew that all the fairies had made the same mechanical gestures as she had; hiding the flowers to preserve their energies, hiding the flowers to preserve their lives. 

In a few moments, everything becomes dull and gray, even the lightest breeze that likes to play on the fairies’ cheeks fades away. The air became heavy and suffocating and then… Bam! The first Tarmec warriors jumped from the ground to land directly on the small wooden platforms that give access to the houses.

Their long, sharp, hooked spears ripped open the walls and doors of the houses in a flash. They wrecked everything in their path. When they found flowers, they hurried to put them in the large bags they carried on their backs.

Maret and her sisters defended themselves with strength and courage, but they were much less skillful and fewer in number. The attackers came from all sides and when she managed to subdue one, it was replaced by two others in a snap of the fingers. She knew there was only one thing left to do. She managed to gather four fairies and led them to the sacred flower room. In front of her stood a huge and majestic lotus flower on its pedestal. Instinctively, she took the hands of the two fairies standing on either side of her and concentrated on her heart. Feel in her heart, the vibration of the flowers; their colors, their smells; all the happy memories associated with them. All the times they had healed, the fairies, but also the animals and even other plants. A great wave of warm light began to embalm the air. The five fairies were now holding hands and the more they vibrated in unison with the lotus flower, the more iridescent the light became. Soon a huge shield of light emerged from each of the trees. The Tarmacs did not know where to look anymore. The light intensified and blinded them. They began to retreat, convinced that they were losing their eyes. In small groups, they left the houses and went back down to the mainland.

Soon there were no Tarmacs left. Maret and her companions opened their eyes and saw a myriad of flowers fall, like multicolored snowflakes. The flowers had defended the sacred balance of the city. 

Nobody knows too much how and why it happened. Maret the first one does not cease to be astonished each time she hears this story. One might say that nature does things well, but it is still necessary to listen to it, respect it and above all protect it.