The flowers that thrived, deep in the valley had been blooming non-stop for over one hundred years. The redolent profusion of colors and deep tropical scents were rumored to have driven many pilgrims who visited the mountains, stark mad. At least, that was the legend in the lowlands beyond the misty mountain range.Elissa Dardo, Inspector General for the great metropolis across the sea, made such a pilgrimage during the course of performing her duty. She returned to her homeland after a solitary cycle of the sun, dressed as a beggar with strange whorls and dotted patterns carved into her skin by the blade of a knife. Self inflicted she had proclaimed - and joyfully so because mapped across every inch of her skin, were the greatest secrets of the universe. Sadly, for the now ostracized Inspector, street walking prophets had been outlawed five decades earlier. No one in the citadel took her seriously, of course. She was summarily imprisoned within the asylum reserved for all the other creatures blighted with her supposed affliction.
Despite the efforts of the citadel's officials, stories and rumors spread across continent like raging fire. There was a hermit, it was said, who lived in the valley and claimed to be over five hundred years old. He had seen a strange star fall there when he was a child - no bigger than a cherry but brighter than a million fireflies. It had dug deep down into the earth there and made the valley its home.
© Tonya R Moore
