Flowers were the most under-appreciated existence in Aurelia. For how much life they could bring to the world, for how they brightened a day or were able to send a message. To only want them around during weddings, funerals, or ceremonies was incredibly insulting to flora as a whole.
Few people truly appreciated a flower's resistance and perseverance. Regardless of how often they went unnoticed, they belonged everywhere.
In the tiny hands of a young girl who would put it in her mother's hair. In the arms of a swooning teen that wanted to proclaim his love but didn't know-how. In the garden of the Emperor, cared for by dozens of the world's best [Gardeners].
In pots hanging from a windowsill. In an alchemist workshop. The side of the dirt road was covered in snow while all its cousins lay long dead from the cold. Attached to mountain cliffs where the soil was harsh, the fierce winds harsher. Attached to the back of a sea turtle, being nibbled by the creature's offspring. On an island in the pits of a volcano, feeding off the immense heat and toxic fumes.
In the winter tundras of the north where nothing lived save silence.
Sprouting from the desert grains as the scorching sun beat the rest of the world into submission.
Crushed underfoot by oblivious transgressors.
Torn from their roots by the careless.
Their petals scattered to the wind during a wedding, only to fall on the ground, lifeless. A remnant of something beautiful. Torn to pieces. Dead.
"Hey, are you listening?"
"Hmm? Sorry, what?"
"I asked you why you're doing this."
"Doing what?"
"You know what I mean. Why did you stop me? Why did you come back? Why have you been so nice to me and brought me all the way here? We don't even know each other."
Reiss kept his silence as they entered the cathedral. There was a sizable audience in the pews leading up to the altar. Luckily the ceremony hadn't started yet. Yerali noticed the change in her company's demeanor and was slightly worried he wouldn't answer.
"Two reasons."
Her heart jumped in her chest. So he had reasons after all?
"The first is that I made a promise."
"A promise?"
Reiss bobbed his head slowly.
"My wife made me promise to change things for the better whenever I could. Even if it somehow turned out worse because I intervened."
Yerali's heart dropped as she listened. Was it from disappointment? Did she have the right to be disappointed that he was married? Curiously she glanced at Reiss's hands.
"Where is your wedding ring?"
Reiss stopped walking and looked at his left hand. He stared slightly longer than was normal. His hand started shaking before he quickly hid it. With a shuddering sigh, he responded.
"I'm not married anymore."
"Oh..."
Yerali was afraid to ask. Was it her place to ask? But they were at a wedding; talking about this was natural. At least...
"What happened?"
"She died."
She immediately regretted asking in the first place. Yerali berated herself for bringing up such a sore topic on what was supposed to be a happy day. Or at least for the people here at the wedding.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
Yerali fidgeted. She had to ask.
"And the second reason?"
Reiss had a far-off look in his eyes.
"Memory."
"You're wife's?"
Reiss peered down at her and gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. It was for both of them, after all.
"I am going to go find the bride and deliver the flowers. Wait here; I'll be back."
Yerali bit her cheek, cursing her stupidity.
=
Before today, Yerali had been at the end of her rope. She was tired. Her parents passed away a few years ago, one right after the other. She had taken up their work running the shop in order to keep their memory alive. But Yerali was alone.
Hours would pass unnoticed as she worked tirelessly to meet demand and fill orders. She struggled to find the creativity to make new patterns or anything fashionable that would catch new patron's attention. As the days went by, she got fewer orders and made fewer sales. Having to downsize, she sold her family's home to make ends meet, deciding to convert a storage room in the shop into a dingy bedroom.
Fewer customers. Less money. No free time. Less motivation. Less will to continue.
Her parents' store was transformed into a modest antique shop with barely anything on the shelves. The memory of her family turned sour as she looked upon all she lost. She sacrificed everything. Her free time. Her prospects. Her home. All of it to keep the business alive. Yerali still failed.
She stood on the edge of the roof before she knew it. Could she join her parents? Would they hug her and tell her she tried her best? Would they scold her for failing?
She had just closed her eyes when she heard a kind, sing-song voice.
"Would you like a flower, miss?"
Opening her eyes, she looked for the voice off to her left. What had to be an incarnation of the Nine stood there, holding out a small flower in her direction. It was a white lily. She vaguely recalled that it was her mother's favorite.
As if by divine providence, here stood a man, reaching out with the personified memory of her mother in the exact moment Yerali was about to end it all.
Yerali didn't respond with words. Instead, she broke down into a sniveling mess. The man let her cling to his chest and wail like a child. His beige, rough-spun shirt soaked up her tears and worries.
Later, she had been sitting on the roof, stunned by what had happened. As quickly as he appeared, like magic, he was gone. He delivered a flower, dried up her tears, and after saying a few benign words... just left.
Was it real? She asked herself. Was he a message from the Stars? A hallucination? But no, she knew it was real. Yerali ran a forefinger along one petal of the lily tucked in her hair.
How could she be so lucky? To have something like that happen? To her, of all people! She was busy mentally kicking herself that she let someone so perfect get away. She should have clung on and never let go.
Then he returned, carrying her name on his lips.
"Yerali?"
=
"Yerali?"
"Huh?"
"Are you alright, Yerali? You were staring off in space."
"Oh. Yeah. I'm okay. Thanks for asking."
Reiss had come back without her noticing. He no longer carried any flowers. His hair was still white, absurdly long, and outrageously beautiful despite not sparkling anymore. His face was still adorable.
Yerali wondered if recent events were coloring her vision or if he really was as attractive as she was thinking.
He stood in front of her now, taller by about half a foot's length. He seemed so unreal to her. His skin was fair yet slightly tanned from working outside. His clothes were that of a beggar who couldn't afford to place bread on the table. He wore old wooden sandals fraying at the edges. He carried nothing on his person, not even a coin pouch.
"Yerali?"
She realized she was staring but couldn't help it.
"Yerali? Are you alright?"
"...name?"
"What was that?"
"What is your name?"
She spoke too quietly at first but spoke with determination the second time. Yerali never heard his name. Despite all that he had done for her. Bringing her back from the edge. She deserved to know the name of her savior. If nothing else...
He gave her the same warm smile that he wore on their first meeting.
"I didn't tell you? I was so sure I did. My name is Reiss."
"Just. Reiss?"
"Yup. Just Reiss."
Oh.
Yerali smiled dumbly. Somehow, knowing his name made it all better.
=
Reiss kept Yerali company during most of the wedding and after-party in the plaza. The bride and groom weren't what was important that day. The wedding was a happy thing with few deviations. Reiss had attended a few times in his past lives looking for something new to experience. One time for the free food, another due to a feeling of obligation, another in a trance as he relieved old memories.
Today though, he was present entirely. He set aside his memories of old. It wasn't often he could make new ones.
They talked about simple things. Happy moments along with a few memories. They even talked business for a while and came up with ideas for new floral patterns sown into scarfs and mittens.
Reiss didn't have to do all the work, though. Yerali was already receiving the same amount of eyes that Reiss received earlier. The stardust was an otherworldly thing that served to outshine nearly all the other guests. Even if she was still wearing her work clothes, her skin was immaculate, and her hair attracted jealous glances from many of the women and even a few bridesmaids.
Luckily the bride and groom didn't notice. They only had eyes for each other.
When everyone reconvened in the plaza outside, the sun finally set, casting a brilliant orange glow on the surroundings. It lingered in the plaza longer than the rest of town, unhindered by humble abodes.
During that time, Reiss snuck several pastries and desserts into a folded pocket dimension to snack on later. He was off to the side, watching several bachelors of varying qualities approach Yerali. She seemed to have mixed feelings at all the attention. Reiss waved as Yerali glanced in his direction once again.
The party was heating up. There was the first dance with the bride and groom—a toast from the best man. There was the cutting of the cake, which Reiss enjoyed immensely, basking in the chance at free cake.
Then came dancing. Accompanied by music, it was an event that everyone present participated in. Yerali asked Reiss to dance despite receiving several offers herself. Reiss accepted the first dance but allowed others their chance afterward. He stepped in tune with a few other ladies as well—even the groom's grandmother.
He cast a glance at Yerali's beaming face as she danced with a young man with shaggy black hair. He seemed entirely too nervous and kept tripping over his own feet. His mistakes made Yerali laugh as she became absorbed in the moment.
Reiss turned back to his dance partner, the old grandmother figure he never had.
"My apologies, fair lady, but it is getting late, and I must be heading home."
"Oh, that's alright. My bones are starting to ache. Will you escort me to a chair by the fire?"
"Of course, madame."
The womanly chuckle was music to his ears as he acted as escort, escaping the dance floor. He felt eyes on his back but didn't turn around. Setting the elderly woman down, he said a few words and left the square discreetly, making sure he didn't draw any eyes.
=
He's gone.
Yerali was searching, almost frantically, for any sign of Riess. But the clear, shining white beacon was nowhere to be found.
"Is something the matter?"
A voice next. A question from her last dance partner.
"Yes. I mean, no. I..."
Yerali bit her lip. How could he just disappear on her?
"I'm looking for someone."
"Maybe I can help? What do they look like?"
He was interrupted by a clinking of glass. All attention was drawn to a bridesmaid wreathed in a flickering glow of the nearby fire.
"Attention, please! It is time. This has been a lovely night of celebration, but we must wrap things up. For the last event, we would request all the single ladies still in attendance to gather for the bride's bouquet toss."
Yerali bit her lip. This isn't something she wanted to participate in. Even so, she joined regardless.
Because of tradition.
Yerali stood in a group of about twenty ladies and one adolescent girl. The girl was jumping up and down, still full of energy from attending her first wedding; it was magical to her. Yerali understood in a morose way that they all had been separated from the crowd. Judged for still being single. Shamed.
It was such a depressing event. The women looked forward to it because it was a game of chance, and they might just be the ones to catch good fortune. But, for those that truly believed, and even those that didn't... It left a sour taste in their mouths. Not to be chosen. To wonder: Will I be alone forever?
Still, they all held on to enough hope to participate.
Yerali was getting antsy as the bride separated from her husband, carrying the bouquet of daisies, daffodils, and petunias.
It was the one Reiss delivered.
With a sigh, she prepared herself as the bride turned her back to the crowd of ladies. There was a dramatic pause, a wind-up, and then a toss.
Everyone looked up. The ladies all put their hands up. Noticing the direction it was heading, some put their hands down, concluding it wouldn't come their way while others scrambled to somehow reach higher.
Yerali was in the former group. The flowers headed in the complete opposite end. She drooped along with a few others as she watched.
Again, she would be alone. In a silent home with no voice to answer hers.
The flowers reached a pinnacle and were falling towards a trio of women.
Again. She could see the entrance to her shop turned home, a single overcoat resting on a hanger in the entranceway.
The flowers were dropping, aiming right for a young woman with straight blond hair.
It's always the pretty ones...
A howling gust tore through the plaza. Cries came from women and a few men as torches were snuffed. A table was blown over, and a few held their dresses in distress. The wind whistled as it weaved through the streets and alleyways to gather in the plaza and create an updraft.
The torches relit as the gust died.
Everyone present looked around worriedly, checking on friends.
They all forgot.
A small, colorful bouquet rested in Yerali's arms.
"Yerali, are you alright?"
Her dance partner called out to her. She was crying.
"Yerali?"
His worried voice didn't register as she stared at the bouquet.
It was a simple display. One filled with common flowers you could find almost anywhere. Purple petunias, yellow daffodils, red daisies, and...
"A white lily."