The Black Rose

Many fear me. Many fear my true form. So when the mortals of this plane do perceive me, their God-fearing minds mutate my image into something they can handle. Yet, in that form they see me betrays them; they do not know that Death comes for them with the black rose…

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I watched this child for some time now. Using the ability to mask my presence I would observe her mother send her off alone into the wood, where someone, other than I, could take her and threaten her with a beating if she did not follow her instructions to the dot. Apparently, this had been going on for some time now, for the child just nodded: “Yes, Mother.”

The child began her trek in to the wood. Far enough away from her home and mother, she launched in to a wordless tune; sometimes singing and sometimes humming, she skipped and danced on her own path coming close to a small clearing with plenty of saplings.

I allowed myself to take form just outside the ring of trees and sat myself on a long hewn tree. She entered the clearing and her subconscious mind began to assume my image as that of a harmless child her own age. She hadn’t consciously noticed me yet. I watched her, listened to her finish the beloved tune and twirl. The child froze mid spin when she finally glimpsed me.

Her eye finally took my shape as that of a young boy of her age and caste. “What are you doing here? Are you lost? What’s your name?” she inquired in rapid-fire secession. Scanning my mind for a name for my child-self, I silently came with the response of “Thantos.” Giving a small grimace of incomprehension, only replied with, “Well my name is Rosenknospe. Are you lost?”

“Yes, could you help me to the road?” my child-like voice inquired.

“I’ll help you, but you have to help me,” Rosenknospe answered.

Knowing that the only was to get my job done successfully was to play along; I agreed to help the child with her task. She tried to lead me to what she though was the best places, but here and there I disappeared from her vision and reappeared before she could become too worried with each teleportation of my image. With a seemingly large load of wood for a child to bear resting in my arms, I questioned if the amount was substantial enough for her mother. Her eyes widened slightly and she swallowed when she silently nodded nervously.

We carried our bundles back to the home of the bewildered Rosenknospe. She was in the lead when she called for her mother. I knew that I must hide my presence from the parent or a disaster would have surely befallen this already tortured child.

“Mother! Mother, look! I am done already, and I made new friend! He helped me with the wood and I helped him back. He was lost!” Rosenknospe breathlessly answered.

“Yes, that is all good, but where is this new friend of yours? Are you telling stories again, Rosenknospe? I warned you what would happen if you kept that up!” her mother questioned suspiciously.

“No, Mother. See hea-“ Rosenknospe cut her sentence short when she did not see my child-shape behind her. “But he was there! I swear, he was there!”

I left completely before I could see what happened to Rosenknospe. I needed to find a way to get my tasks done, and quickly.

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I returned the next day to the same place I was before. I found Rosenknospe crying, steadily weeping. I came up to her when she did not notice me. She instinctively jumped when I reached for her small shoulder. “What is wrong?” I questioned.

Rosenknospe looked at me angrily,
“Mother thinks that you’re not real. She thought that I was telling a fib! You have to come with me again. She said that if I keep telling stories I’d regret it. She has to see you. Not even the pile of wood you helped me get proved you are real!” She pleaded. I, myself, could only nod.

Once again, I assisted her. We quickly finished and returned the abode. She yelled for her mother who instantly ran out. Something instinctively inside the haggard woman recoiled at the sight of me. Her human reasoning told her that I was only a child, but something else told her differently. She rudely questioned my origins and parents since she did not recognize me. I did not answer her question directly, and I only told her that I was a companion of her daughter’s who had helped her in return for a way back to the roads. I turned to smile at the small girl and presented her with her namesake to seal our providence.

“I have to go now, but I will come again when this is in bloom.” The little explanation I gave confused them even more.

My child form walked away into the darkened distance, but I cloaked myself to watch the mother and child slowly look at each other. When Rosenknospe passed the black bud to her mother, she pricked her finger on one of its many thorns. Flowing in a rivulet down to her wrist, the blood from her fingertip bound her fate. I heard her shrill cry of pain as I left the residence and wiped them from my mind until I had to meet them again.

Next time I would not leave alone.

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The smell of a rose infiltrated the void. I knew what I must do. I went to the bedside of the sleeping, feverish Rosenknospe. I kept myself from being seen from her mother, but let her dreams see the child that aided her in the wood. Her nightmare was a dark, pitch abyss. Once again, I found her crying in the shadows. Rosenknospe was sobbing for her mother, for anyone to come and find her. I called out to her in this hellish, fevered vision and her soul took my outstretched hand. We walked out from her hallucination with her wiping away her tears and asking if she was going to get better. “You will be fine,” was the only answer I could give her.

Taking her to her final destination, I was the only one who heard Rosenknospe’s mother cry in desperation for the death of her youngest child. I let her hand go for a moment to retrieve the rose that I had given her. She smiled with happiness and took my hand and the dark, jet blossom to skip away into the light.