Letter 1 – Hymn of the Flower
‘My name is Seraphina. My eldest asked me to write letters, I am not sure to whom I should write to so I decided to write a lot of them to myself. Maybe a time will come when I will be able to give it to someone. Someone I love. Someone I cherish.
‘Would the Goddess be able to receive them? Would she be able to relieve us from the pain of the flower? Will we be freed from the cage in which we reside? Doves of white, wings painted crimson. The sin which paints us regardless, we live singing.’
Uhmmm….I suppose I-I can make them happy by filling it with empty chatter. I s-shouldn’t emphasize my hesitation like this…..makes me wonder, when I-I think…..do my words stutter? Oh…..I’m trailing off again. Ahem. Im going to be serious now. Im so serious……im seriously serious. Okay. Start.’
‘I was given a weapon of my own choice today, well it’s not a proper blade but…..it’s a pretty slender sword. I’d say it’s somewhat like me…..fragile to the eye but the soul strong enough to trick colossus. So thin and fragile but I was mildly shocked to see it can cut a tree in half today. I felt bad for the tree but a calming song can do it good, hopefully it’ll grow back again and the critters that once housed it would forgive me. Maybe if I sing a jolly tune, it will grow stronger and bear fruits! My sisters will be so proud of me.’
‘I can’t fight with a blade let alone hold it. It’s soooo hard…..I keep petting my instructor with my blade. Surely I can’t be that weak? I saw my younger sister wield a hammer ten times her size, she swung it and killed a wild boar that paraded through a poor man’s farm. Surely I can’t be weak…..? I want to protect my sisters and my people……..can I fight with a drum? OR OR my own song? ‘Words are weapons’ a wise person once said…..I don’t know who did but I am sure they are wise~!’
‘Words can kill, right? Maybe if I insult my enemy they would die red-faced. Oh, dear……surely that’s not true. MAYBE If I say good things about them they will flee from the battlefield in utter embarrassment. Yes, I will discuss my battle plan with my other sisters…hopefully they will approve.’
‘Oh Goddess, if you can hear me right now, forsake me. I am just a lower deity, my songs sing for you, my voice merely imitates you. I am just a white dove painted in crimson. Give me the strength to which I deserve, you created Man. You created the critters that reside in this dirty prison. How am I to protect your gift with songs and hymns?’
I want to be strong.
Letter 2 – Song of the Blood Stained Dove
‘Today my sisters and I took a journey of the cathedral city. The colors, the life, the voices. It was all so beautiful and it gave me life. Hopefully, my sisters felt the same life and happiness as I did. I felt like dancing and prancing around the streets yet, I somehow collected my new found energy within me, refusing to leave the side of my sisters as we excavated the markets for new frills, ribbons, and dresses. Eugh…..dresses…..actually, they are not bad. I love the freedom they give you but the ones that stick to your skin are icky. Oh well, I bought nothing but food today.’
‘Saw my sisters buy weapons, their nimble fingers purring against the edge of the blade. The bladesmith fell asunder to them, his head so low that it touched the feet of my eldest. She merely smiled and sung a hymn of the goddess, blessing those who were within the vicinity. I? I was merely a spectator holding the sustenance of my sisters. The true deities.’
What am I?
‘Today I met the sun itself. It shone so brightly yet, it didn’t burn me. Its voice was the spring wind reincarnated, its eyes could put a whole galaxy of twinkling stars to shame. Its skin could put my fourth sister to envy it. Its hair flowed in the wind as if it had more life and energy that nature itself. The sun. The stars. My sisters. I. We are nothing in comparison to that human. His songs moved more men and women than mine. He stole my voice, he stole my purpose. I should be angered, I should have incurred the wrath of the Goddess upon the blasphemer yet, I stood in the shadows watching him charm the populace as he did me. A deity reduced the status of a mere maiden with a weak heart. He moved the feelings of those whose I could not comprehend nor touch. I fell in complete defeat upon his feet yet, he did not kick me. He did not notice me. He did not notice the same intoner he sang to days before in devotion…..this man. Why is he so beautiful?’
‘In the forest, he sang for recognition.
His eyes drinking at the site as if he was presented with the holy chalice.
What was he looking for?
I was in the shadows of the trees, the nymphs giggled as they hid me from the mortal sight of the man
He was looking for my sisters……yes.
I thought to call my eldest albeit, my feet remained frozen
The birds chirped, wishing me to approach the man yet, I was feeble and wary
Me? Who am I to approach the demi-god?
The demi-god whom I stood across to, his songs called to me, they pulled me from the shadows of the gleeful shrubs
He stood before me and he sang me a hymn
‘Im scared. Should I talk to him? Ummmmm probably not, I will spout out incoherent words anyways.’
‘I don’t want to love him yet……..every day I’m envious that he doesn’t hold me like his flute.’
‘So gently. So lovingly.’
‘Oh, dear…..I’m wasting so many pages when writing about him.’
Letter 3 – Melody of Sorrow
“I started meeting with this charming bard. Every day he seems to be encasing a layer upon layer of his silken webs upon me made from honeyed words and sweet promises. What is he? He can’t be human. He is a work of art, a work of masterpiece sent by a merciful God as an example of exalted beauty. Both spiritually and physically. I don’t want to touch him yet, I can’t help but sneak a shy caress upon his freckled skin. He makes my heart skip beats, his glances overthrows waves of pleasure and trembling feelings within my body. He seems to know what to speak with me, how to converse with me. He knows I’m shy. He told me he was too. He told me he fancies me. M-More than a friend. Every smile of his uncovers my layers of uncertainty to reveal a shy curiosity which he quenches with his speech and touches.’
‘Kill me while this feeling lingers. Oh, why does he does this so.’
‘Is he truly human? Am I the intoner? Am I the deity cursed by the flower? Or am I just a skittish maiden.’
‘What have you reduced me too…..my sweet venom. May you never extract yourself from my blood.’
‘I feel like I am the puny mouse in the hands of a benevolent God.’
‘Just being near him makes me forget where I am. Who I am. My goals…..My sisters.’
‘This is not right. I can’t meet him anymore. The separation will hurt but….I can no longer ignore the fact that I am an intoned. I am born for a reason and I will fulfill my goal.’
‘He died……he left me alone. That stupid man, I told him not to sings ballads about the corrupt lords. I told him. I told him……I-I….told him…..’
‘Stupid.Idiot.Moron.Idiotic.Numbskull.Why…..why….w-why……he left me.’
‘I should have warned him more. I should have told him I am the songstress he prays to every night. He sings to every night. He could have taken me seriously.’
‘I-I can’t use my song to revive him.no. That would be unfair.’
‘I want to write so much. So many things. I….I-I……dont k-know how to start. W-where to s-start…..my heart. My brain. M-my everything is broken. So broken.sobroken.sobroken.broken.sobroken.whereishe.iwanthim.iwanthim.hislighthiseverythinggivehimtomeiwanthimiwanthimpleasesavemesavemesavemepleasepleasewherekillmekillmekillmeiwanthim-‘
Letter 4- Broken Melodies of the Songstress
‘So I decided to use a bow. I am proficient with it.’
‘Pierced the eyes of an owl with my bow and arrow. I practiced with shooting multiple arrows, it’s a success.’
‘Killed many enemies from the shadows, the fell like birds from the sky. One by one, their blood painted the earth.’
‘From now on I will wear a mask and a hood, can’t afford to show my emotions to my enemies because….I cry every time I kill them. I-It’s not my fault……he said he had a family of 3 little girls……little girls. Imsorry.Imsorry.imsorryimsorrryimsorry-‘
‘Pierced the heart of a hare. Perfect hunting must I say. May use my poisons to test their efficiency.’
‘Caught a mysterious toxic animal today, I’m thinking to coat my arrows with poisons from now on. War is looming over our heads after all.’
‘My disciple brought a highly toxic plant today. Such a nice man he is. So kind. Just like him.’
‘My disciple held me as we slept under the stars. Or was I the one who did it. Can’t tell in the dark, he reminds me of him.’
‘I asked my disciple to sing for me. He didn’t have the same voice as him. But. I still love my disciple. As I loved him.’
‘Imsorry.Imsorry.Imsorry.Imsorry.Imsorry.Imsorry.Imsorry.Imsorry.Imsorry. You’re not like him. I still love you. Don’t leave me, love. Love? Love.Love?LOve.ove.lOVE! I love you. I always will. DO you love ME? Huh…….probably no……..I never treated you the way I should have. Every sweet night. Every morning, I see an image of him in you……o-oh…..I made you like him.just like him. My sweet angel……my dear sweet angel……imsorryimsorryimsorry.dontleavemealone.imsorryimsorrysimrioaisdmfie.’
Don’t. Leave. Me. Alone.
My dear sweet angel.
my letters reach you…..
‘My blood stained dove. Don’t you fret your pretty feathers? I will color them white, the bow you hold. The song you sing. Don’t fret your pretty mind. I am here. I am here to stay.’
The credit for the featured image goes to Vera. She can be found on Instagram @vivi.tigerlily