Blood Flower Series

A series of books published in Arunafeltz, the country that worships the goddess Freyja. This story used to be spread through word of mouth, but has been religiously embellished in printed form.

Vol 1.

Flower that Blooms from Blood: Part 1

Unknown Author

Publisher's Comment: This is a story that is widely believed to be a fictional tale written to bring attention to Freyja, the goddess of love and beauty. Whether it originated from the written records of an adventurer, or from a heartbreaking song performed by bards has not been confirmed. Its title is unknown, and an original written copy of it hasn't been found. This tale is about two groups that fought for the Goddess Freyja against Odin, and follows the exploits of a heroine chosen by the gods, similarly to our pope that was chosen by Freyja. Religion is a major theme in this work, making it significant to sincere followers of Freyja. We've decided to preserve what remains of this story because it has much cultural value to be forgotten, and have taken great pains to write a faithful reconstruction of the original version. We hope that our readers will appreciate our efforts for historical accuracy, and enjoy this story.

- Editor's Department

This land which was once covered in lush green grass was belching sooty smoke to the sky. It was hard to tell if the black clouds overhead were the ashes of war or signs of coming rain. A thick gray fog blanketing the ground seemed to flood through the mass of soldiers engaged in intense battle. They swung their weapons with murderous focus, callously stepping over their fallen comrades whose bodies had become a part of the layer of soot on the ground.

Freyja's faithful believed their cause to be righteous: they had come to this land, worked to make it habitable, but the native heathens were too stubborn to pledge their lives and loyalty to their loving, generous goddess. Naturally, the natives were sure that they had been wronged, indignant that these religious zealots whom they had warmly welcomed to their land had the audacity to force them to convert to their strange religion. Although Freyja's followers and the natives had lived together peacefully for a while, but their conflicting beliefs over religion made war inevitable.

A vivid red trail snaked across the sooty plains, the bloodshed marking where the soldiers had advanced. The deep, rumbling thunder and dark clouds in the sky looming over the scattered bodies seemed to protest the petty violence of the soldiers that were fighting.

"Will it rain soon?"

A lone, young man drew a deep breath as he adjusted his grip on his sword. How many days had he been fighting? When was the war going to end? He leaned against a broken carriage, and looked up the to sky for an answer. All he saw were black, ominous clouds.

"I guess... It's going to rain."

"Senia, I'm sorry. I mean it! How longer are you planning on being mad at me?"

"Hmpf!"

"Look, Senia. This rose just bloomed, just as promised. See? These petals are deep crimson. Just like your cheeks, Sen."

Khras held out the rose to Sen, who was leaning out the window. She looked down at him with a sigh. Another sulky response.

"You're too late again. Look at the sky."

Once again, the sky cleared before Khras could make it over to Sen. This was the fifth time that Khras failed to bring Senia a freshly bloomed rose on a rainy day, a near impossible task in the desert hillside. Senia was definitely asking too much from him. Even though it shouldn't have been possible, even though he wasted precious water on growing those roses, even though his family and the townspeople thought he was crazy, somehow he had made that promise to her two years ago.

The clanging of armor startled Khras from his daydream. The cold sweat running down his cheeks, and that familiar chill in his stomach signaled that an enemy was near. He tried to slow his breath, instinctively tighten the dagger tied to his left wrist, and then quietly reached for his sword. The clatter of swords drew closer behind the carriage Khras was leaning against.

He was so close! Should he surprise him and strike first? Did he see me from a distance, and come to kill me? What if he's just a messenger? What if he just wants to tell me the war is over and I don't have to hide anymore? Wait, that can't be possible! Khras tensed as the thoughts pulsed through his mind in sync with his quickening heart. The war had lost its lofty meaning to Khras after days of facing berserk soldiers slaughtering each other for no reason. Everyone seemed to be yelling the name of their god, but it was all wanton killing. Forget ideals, the promises of the gods. They were animals now, just fighting to survive. No wonder Khras felt so bitter.

Khras slowly inched behind a large wooden board that had fallen from the broken carriage. The clanging of metal ceased, and Khras held his breath.,and then slowly edged out from behind his hiding place. He spied a large man nearby that was carefully searching the distance, but didn't seem to indicate that he had seen Khras. The large man then crawled into the pit created from the impact of the falling carriage. Khras quickly rushed the big man, grabbed his throat, and scraped the edge of his dagger against the Adam's apple.

"Are you friend or foe?" Khras hoarsely whispered.

"Why don't you figure it out yourself?"

Khras's dagger dug just deep enough to let a little blood trickle down the blade.

"Answer me! Are you friend or foe?"

"Why didn't you just kill me?"

Khras's eyes widened at the man's question. He could have just slashed the throat, and didn't know why he was so hesitant to kill this man. The absurdity made him want to laugh out loud. Then again, killing this man wouldn't ensure his own survival in the war.

After a long and thoughtful pause, Khras shot back with his own question. "Why should I kill you?"

The big man snorted and gently shrugged his shoulders. "I think I know what you mean. I don't know how to answer you. This war is being fought for the sake of the gods, but if you want to win, you've got to kill your enemy more than he kills you. I suppose those are the rules."

The man paused, and inhaled deeply. Khras couldn't see his face, he could tell the man was trying not to let out a small chuckle. Khras tightened his hold. "Go on. Keep talking."

The man shrugged, and gently pushed the dagger away from his throat with his finger. Khras didn't stop him, and waited to hear the man's words.

"To kill the enemy, you need to tell them apart from your friends. That's why we have uniforms, to keep us from making silly mistakes like this. Wouldn't you agree, Khras?"

Khras jumped me at the sound of his name, and took a quick, closer look behind his captive. Khras could see from the man's priest armor, it told Khras that he was a mercenary. The small, sacred symbol hanging from the broad maroon belt, stained with dirt and blood, signaled that he was fighting for the goddess Freyja. They were certainly on the same side, but how did this man know Khras's name? The man slowly turned and flashed Khras a gentle smile.

"Well, how has she been doing lately?"

"What... What?" Khras recognized Beren's face, and rushed to hug him. "Goddess! What have I done? I almost killed you, Beren!"

Beren patted Khras on the back, trying his best to relieve him of his guilt over intending to kill a friend. Beren quietly look at Khras for a minute, and then starting digging the pit deeper by using a wooden board torn off the carriage. When the pit was deep enough, he smoothed the ground around it, and covered the hole with the carriage. Now he had the perfect hiding place.

Khras looked at Beren while gently stroking the blade of his dagger. As Beren took a seat next to him, Khras quietly asked, "How did you know it was me?"

Beren smiled. "You're the only one I know that carries a weapon on his left arm instead of a shield. I lucked out—if I didn't know that, you might have already killed me. It's been a few years since we last saw each other, right? I really wish we could have reunited under different circumstances."

"Yeah..."

The sky was clouded to tell if it was day or night. The loud clamor of screams and weapons grew more distant, and was replaced by the growing rumbling of thunder and lightning from the clouds.

"I guess it's going to rain soon." Khras mumbled.

Beren nodded his head, and looked up to the sky. "I suppose the battle will be over soon. One way or another."

"I thought it'd never end. It was insanity out there." Khras paused thoughtfully. "Beren... You should feel lucky that you weren't part of the worst of it."

"But... I was at the 3rd array."

"Yeah? Well, I..."

Khras stared at Beren for a while, and then looked up the sky.

"I was the one that burned down these plains while escaping to the outskirts. They used to teem with golden wheat under the autumn sun. Now look. I reduced it to charred earth. Those were my orders, it was our strategy... But I think it's our loss. It was so beautiful, and I ruined it all."

"Either way, I think we were lucky not to fight those maniacs in the hills over there. They're still fighting, even though there's no hope of them winning. It's completely idiotic."

Khras blinked his eyes as the first drops of rain hit him in the face. The flashes of lightning and the rumbling of thunder arrived at full force, ushering in the pouring rain. The rain furiously pounded the ground, splashing the ashes, churning the dust into a muddy blood red. Beren quietly watched the red raindrops. Its color reminded him of roses, and an old memory came back to him.

"Khras? What ever happened to her? Sen... That was her name, right? The one that made that weird promise with you."

"Her name was Senia."

"Senia, that's right. What made you promise to bring her fresh roses in the rain?"

Khras felt a little confused. Those happy, earnest times felt so far away. He smiled to himself. The war wasn't that important on a cosmic scale. He was better off thinking about what really made him happy. Khras's thoughts pleasantly drifted towards the beautiful Senia, whose skin was fresh as the petals from a white lily.

- To be continued.

Vol 2.

Flower that Blooms from Blood: Part 2

"Khras\~ Khras!"

Khras was precariously perched on tree branches, struggling to tie the ends of a canvas to pitch a crude canopy. He looked down to see Senia waving at him, her dazzling silver blond hair stroked by the wind.

"Senia! What are you doing outside?! You might get sunburned. Go back inside!"

"Khras! Don't you even remember that today's my birthday?"

"What does it looks like I'm doing, Senia? I'm putting up this shade so you can come outside and enjoy the fresh air."

"You're taking sooo long, Khras! Don't you want to spend time with me?"

Women! Sometimes she asked so much at once, but he couldn't help it. He loved her to death.

Khras wished that Senia could freely walk outside, smell the flowers, and enjoy a picnic on the riverside. Unfortunately, her skin was too sensitive to light, so she could never stay outdoors for very long. Her hair, her skin, everything about her was milky white. Her cheeks flushed with rouge whenever her skin burnt or she was angry with him. Strangely enough, that was when Senia was most beautiful to Khras.

Senia giggled and shook the shade's poles, circling the tree teasing Khras.

"Please, Sen, please! Will you stop shaking the poles?! Sen, you don't want me to get hurt!"

Sen sniffed at him, and ignored his desperate pleas. She then ran toward the center of the garden where the sun shone brightest. Her thoughtless, carefree behavior begun to make Khras feel anxious. Khras quickly climbed down the tree, and reached the ground just in time to see Senia faint from the sunlight. He hurried to her side while feverishly unbuttoning his shirt, threw it over her, hoisted her in his arms, and ran into the house. Her eyes were tightly shut, as if the sunlight on her eyelids hurt.

She was still tightly gripping his shoulders as he gently lowered Senia on the couch. He felt guilty: he should have listened to her, especially since today was her birthday. He hoped there was still a chance that he could keep her birthday from being ruined.

"Senia? Senia, we're inside the house. You can open your eyes now."

She slowly opened her eyes to his gentle whisper, and smiled softly at him. Her teary eyes were still bloodshot, so he knew that she couldn't see clearly for a little while. She fumbled for his neck, as he kissed her forehead, and then he took her hands in his.

"Senia... I'm afraid I ruined your birthday. I want to make it up to you. Please tell me. Do you have a special birthday wish?"

"......"

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, Khras... You didn't ruin my birthday. But..."

"But what?"

"Now I can ask you whatever I want."

Her voice was as cheerful like always, and Khras was happy to hear it again. He tightly grasped her pinky with his.

"Of course, Senia. Pinky swear."

Sen looked out the bright window for a while, and opened her mouth.

"Khras, I want to have a rose that bloomed from the tears of the goddess."

"I'll get it for you, Senia. I promise."

Khras didn't even think twice about her wish. Senia continued.

"I'll give you three years to find my special rose. Make sure it's bright red, and bloomed on a rainy day. Can you make my wish come true?"

"I'll do it for you, Senia."

Two years later, Khras's fifth rose offering had been rejected. He still hasn't gotten it right.

"Muhahahaha!"

Beren started laughing out loud after listening to Khras's story. He stifled his laugh for a moment, looked at Khras with shining, incredulous eyes, and then let loose with a booming guffaw. They laughed together for a while over the ridiculousness of Khras's story, and then they realized how silly they must have looked, crouching together in a hole under a carriage in the middle of the battlefield. Then they shared a laugh over the ridiculousness of war.

"Khras! Haha\~ haha!!! So, Pant Pant did you make her wish come true? Ahaha\~!"

Khras's stopped laughing, and he lowered his head in disappointment. "My three years is almost up, and winter is coming. I still haven't made her wish come true."

"Oh... You haven't?"

"Well, at least I'm alive. I want to go back home, start growing roses again." Khras smiled at Beren.

"Hahahaha! Well, I'm sorry. But I don't think you can ever grant her wish."

"B-Beren? What do—"

The sword tore into his stomach, and he could feel the heat from his blood. He thought that it was the warmth of life was leaving him. Khras stared at Beren, stunned. Why was he doing this?

Beren pushed his sword deeper. "The only winners of war are the survivors. You know that. I'm sorry, but you just lost."

Khras coughed up blood, and looked at Beren for an answer. "You're... But you're wearing Freyja's symbol!"

Beren pulled out a gorgeous golden pendant from his jacket, Odin's symbol. He then tenderly placed it back in its pocket, and ripped Khras's symbol from his belt, and placed it in a pouch. Khras gaped in horror—Beren had been collecting Freya's symbols from his victims. Even the belt that Beren was wearing was stained with the blood of his victims.

"All of you guys were so trusting when I wear this trinket on my belt. It's almost too easy!"

Khras grabbed the sword that penetrated his stomach with his trembling right hand, and tried to reach for Beren's throat with the other. It was no use: his grip was too weak from his loss of blood. He body was growing colder and heavier, and his vision was getting blurrier. Death was imminent.

"Did I ever tell you that I'd worship Freyja back when I knew you? I'm sorry that you had to make that mistake of worshiping Freyja. I'm sorry that you made the mistake of loving such a silly girl."

Beren's cynical remarks didn't bother Khras that much, but he wanted to know why Beren had betrayed him. Beren caught the disbelief in Khras's eyes, and felt a little bit of regret. He had cheated: the least he could do was tell the truth before Khras died.

"You might think I betrayed you. The way I see it, we were never friends from the beginning. You took our land away from us. Then, you forced us to deny our god Odin, and pledge allegiance to Freya. Talking to you now... I'll admit. You're different from the others. More sincere. But... I'm not going to take that chance. We made a connection, you and I, but... In the end, I'm siding with my god."

Khras looked at Beren, and somehow he seemed satisfied. Beren held his sword sternly for a moment, then slashed it out to side, and took Freya's symbol from Khras. He fingered it softly in his hands. He placed it in his pocket.

"By the will of Odin." His choked whisper was drowned out by thunder. The raindrops mixed with Khras's blood, and quickly spread over the ground. In his dying moments, Khras was thinking of Senia, and pleaded to the goddess to help him keep his promise.

Senia was sitting near the window, watching the rain. It wasn't the usual summer shower, and sky's gray fog covered the treetops. Senia slowly stood in awe when she took a closer look at the falling raindrops. Were those rose petals falling from the sky? She hurried outside. She hadn't heard anything of him for months, and was waiting so long for Khras to come back to her.

"Khras, Khras?! Is it you?"

She frantically ran, scanning the horizon for any sign of him, splashing the ground. A red rose petal dropped to her feet. She looked up, and there were thousands of beautiful, blood red petals floating down from the heavens. Her arms reached to the sky. A single petal lands on her finger, melts into a single red drop that runs down her arm. Senia falls to her knees, her face in her hands, and sobs. Khras is gone, and Senia's tears mix with that of heaven's. The rose petals swirl around her, and they make the girl with pure white skin look just like a beautiful red rose blooming alone in the rain.