A Question On Break Ups

It takes a terrible amount of mighty bond to fix a broken vase, but isn't it much simpler to buy a new one?

The Solution, the Wall, and the Collapse of the Circular City

From the Ivory Tower, a crow named Gurulturu headed back to the Round City of Yuvarlak. The crow, the catastrophic beauty, and the circular city would have a solution that will make everybody happy. On the other hand, the Little Boy would have an emissary to the World to spread his knowledge and wisdom once again.
Like the Little Boy suggested, the crow flew to the richest suitor of Afet, the catastrophic beauty. Gurulturu picked Devrim, the richest suitor of Afet. In actuality, he is also the pick of Afet to marry since he gives the most expensive gifts of all her suitors. He also was true to his name, which meant “revolutionary.” Every three days, he comes by Afet’s house because he devised an ingenious plan of meeting his servants halfway across the city walls. Instead of taking 6 days to get back to Afet, he managed to cut the travelling time in half. More than that though, the Little Boy suggested him because he lived just on the other side of the wall, right across the house of Afet.
Gurulturu found Devrim on his horse. He was on his way to meet his servants, who were bringing a golden elephant to their meeting point. As crows can move faster than a galloping horse, he managed to land on Devrim’s shoulder.
“Good morning, Devrim!” bellowed the crow. With fright and surprise, Devrim stopped the horse and tried to shoo the crow away. “Wait! Pardon me! I didn’t mean any harm,” said Gurulturu. “I have come to greet and meet the chosen one to be the husband of Afet.”
“What devilry is this? How can you speak?” asked Devrim. As the crow was a gabber, he wasn’t able to stop himself from telling his life’s story. He also went on with the ingenious plan on how to convince Afet’s mother that he was rich enough to bring gifts and crafty enough to do it everyday of the week. Luckily, Devrim believed him and agreed with the plan.
The plan was quite simple, really. With the knowledge of the Little Boy of geometry, he told Gurulturu that the shortest path between two points is a straight line. Instead of going around the city, a suitor living on the West Crescent can just climb over the wall and visit the East Crescent everyday. Since Devrim lived on the other side of the wall, he does not need to travel far; he does not need to also reveal the simplest solution.  
With this knowledge dispensed by the Little Boy, preparations went underway. Devrim had his builders craft a very long ladder that reached up the wall and another one to help him down on the other end. As the plan was simple and effective, he managed to visit Afet 6 consecutive days in a row, bringing the most lavish gifts that he can carry over the wall. Afet was happy; finally, she her mother conceded let her marry. Devrim was also happy; at last, his efforts would bear fruit. Most of all, Gurulturu was happy since he’ll have Afet to gossip with, Devrim to discuss manly matters with, and the Ivory Tower’s friendship and advice.
With so much joy, Devrim and Gurulturu decided to celebrate. In his gold leafed mansion, Devrim ordered his servants to prepare food and wine. Because he was rich, the food flowed ever so freely from the kitchen to the table. Devrim and Gurulturu wallowed in wine, words, and loud laughter. “What happiness can cause such a commotion,” thought the other suitors, so they all sneaked up to the windows of the happiest house in Yuvarlak. From their perch, they saw Devrim talking to a crow. They heard Gurulturu speak, which amazed them so much. More than that, they heard through drunk lips and beaks how they can laugh heartily, too!
As the secret spread like sand blown by a storm, the wealthy suitors began to also device ladders and contraptions that allowed them to visit daily. With this new trend in the suitors, Afet’s mother took back her word and made a new rule. Whoever can bring the most abundant amount of gifts would have Afet’s hand in marriage. Now, it was a question of quantity, not frequency, so she made it  known to all the suitors that the judging day was to be on Afet’s birthday.
As Afet’s birthday was a week away, everybody, including Devrim, stopped visiting Afet to muster all their wealth.Others had engineers and designers build contraptions that would allow them to bring the most wealth all in one go. They built stronger, heavier ladders to support the weight of gold, diamonds, and other precious stones. Everyone was desperate to win. Finally, Afet’s birthday came. Everybody on the Western Crescent woke up for each suitor employed each man, woman, and child that can carry something and climb a ladder to maximize the amount of wealth that they can transport to the other side. With big bags, mechanical carts, pulleys, scaffoldings, and carrying cases, they all climbed the dividing wall simultaneously.
With all the excitement, Gurulturu wanted to gossip with Afet because he knew that when all these people reached the other side, she won’t have time for him until after the wedding. He flew over the way and reported in detail how the spectacle looked like. Afet and Gurulturu were so engrossed with their conversation. Devrim and the rest of the suitors were also busy in transporting their wealth. The citizens reflected the same enthusiasm that their master had. Nobody paid attention to anything, not even the wall that complained and grumbled because of the weight it bore. With a loud crack, a whooshing sound, and a fell downward stroke, the city of Yuvarlak met its destruction. Everybody on the Eastern Crescent was crushed by the wall. Everybody climbing the wall from the Western Crescent fell, broke their necks, and died.
The Little Boy, the Master of the Ivory Tower, didn’t miss this spectacle. On one hand, he was sad for his emissary, Gurulturu, was crushed by the wall. He lost his only way to make his knowledge  known to the world again. On the other hand, the naughtier hand, he was quite amused. “Who would’ve guessed that the wall would collapse? Good thing I didn’t build that wall. Ahahahahahaha!” With that final remark, the Little Boy started laughing uncontrollably. Even if he was on the top of the Ivory Tower on the tallest mountain on the top of the World, his laughter managed to ride the Winds and made all the people in the World to hear the sound of a little boy laughing.

An Ivory Shard, Germaine, and a Tennis Racket

Up on the Ivory Tower that stood solidly on top of the tallest mountain on the top of the World, the Little Boy was still fuming against Heaven for that painful lesson about gravity in the Foreshadowing of the Ivory Shards when he heard a girl cry in anger. He was clutching the ivory shard that struck him in the head when suddenly, a tennis racket went into view and fell down again, which piqued the interest of the Little Boy. Curious to see who threw it high enough to come into his horizon, the Little Boy investigated and followed the racket’s descent. 
The racket fell back into Germaine’s skilled hands. She was the person who was able to throw a tennis racket so high in the air. She was a high school student of Tokyo Gakkan Urayasu High School. She was part of the school’s tennis varsity team. She was part of the Honors Class. Most of all, she was the almost most popular girl in school with her blonde hair, big, wide eyes, and high grades.
She threw the racket in the air out of frustration with Judy, the most popular girl in school. Judy was also part of the tennis varsity. In fact, she was the captain for the women’s team. She had short sassy hair, a smile that shimmered with stars, and even higher grades than Germaine. Everyone loved her, especially Tezuka, the team captain of the tennis team, the most popular boy in school, and the love of Germaine’s life.
It seemed to Germaine that no matter what she did, she always successfully stood second best. In home economics class, she baked a strawberry sponge cake for Tezuka, but he ate Judy’s plain chocolate cake instead. After the finals week of their second year in junior high, she saw her name labeled number 2 in small, black letters while Judy’s name was highlighted in big, red, bold letters. Most of all, she was the best friend of Tezuka; Tezuka’s girlfriend was Judy.
After about 30 minutes of waiting for the tennis racket to land back on her hands, Germaine thought that she should go home, but Judy went into the tennis court. As she was heading towards the court gates, she saw it swing open to reveal Judy, smiling and walking with that swaying, sassy hair of hers. “Yo! Germaine-chan! Would you like to play a game before you go home?” Judy asked. “Uh, but…” Germaine stuttered as Judy dragged her to one side of the court.
With the same tennis racket in her hands, Germaine was forced to play. As luck would have it, Tezuka wandered in the court and offered to referee the match. With the love of her life in sight, Germaine felt fired up. Yes! She would play. Yes! She would show Judy that she can win, even just one unofficial game. Most of all, yes, she will impress Tezuka with her awe-inspiring backhand and forehand smashes, which she thought would be enough for him to dump Judy and ask her to be his girlfriend.
As the whistle wailed across the court, Germaine motioned to serve. Spuck! Spuck! That was the only sound that Germaine could hear. She was so intent to beat Judy, smiling, giggling, and shimmering with stars as she returned each smash that Germaine sent to her. After 20 minutes, Germaine had a point-break opportunity. She only needed to score one more point, and she will beat Judy for the first time in Tokyo Gakkan Urayasu High School’s history.
As the Little Boy, looking down intently from the Ivory Tower, gazed at Germaine’s determination and desperation, he heard Germaine’s thoughts: “If I could just win this match, I’d be happier. God, please, anyone! If you can hear my me, I wish to win this match at any cost.” Because of the desperation, the intensity, and the sincerity of this one wish, the Little Boy felt some compassion for Germaine. He wanted to help the girl who had the ability to grab his interest. As he was still holding the ivory shard, he thought that maybe, he can sabotage Judy and cause her to lose the match. With this thought in mind, he went over to the edge of the balcony of the Ivory Tower. Using his knowledge of vertical motion, gravity, and trajectory, he threw the ivory shard down so that it would land on Judy’s side of the court. He was hoping that Judy would step on it, slip, and fail to return one of Germaine’s smashes.
Down the ivory shard flew. It fell fast and furiously towards the next spot where Judy was supposed to put her foot down. The Little Boy’s aim was true this time; unlike what happened with Amaris and the Paper Airplane Prophecy, his ivory shard struck where it was supposed to strike. However, he failed to figure in the bounce of the turf used in lawn tennis courts. The fake green grass had a bounce to it that made the ivory shard bounce towards Germaine’s next stepping ground. With an inaudible thud, it slipped under Germaine’s tennis shoes, rolled a few centimeters, and overturned her. What a sight it made! As Germaine was turning in midair, one of her shoes came off, flew up in the air, met with the eyes of the Little Boy, and fell back to earth. When the little shoe fell down, almost 30 minutes has already gone by. Germaine was already at the hospital with a broken neck, a fractured dream, and a smashed spirit. The doctors told her that she can never play tennis ever again.
With this new blunder, the Little Boy started to regret helping Germaine. Now, he can never see a tennis racket fly so high up in the air that it could reach the windows of his Ivory Tower. As he lost interest, he turned his gaze away and retired into his tower that was on top of the tallest mountain on the top of the World. 

This story is for Judy, my friend. This is my  birthday gift to her since I only have stories to tell and no money for buying gifts. Belated happy birthday!

The Father and the First First-Born Son

For about four days, there has been no movement within the Ivory Tower. On top of the tallest mountain on top of the world, the Master of the Ivory Tower, the Little Boy, was intent on looking into the past, fast forwarding, and following the life of a man that had two sons.

It seems that it is an ironic story of atonement, which captivated the Little Boy's interest although there was no magic involved in it. It just seemed so sad for a boy who was locked up on a tower with nothing to do but to look at the World beneath him, so he tuned in to this one man.

The man in this story is known as Jose. He had two sons, Joseph and Jason, which were generations apart. The first son, Joseph, was born of Jose's first wife. Shortly after giving birth, his wife died and he was left a widower; Joseph was left an orphan. In the lush land of the Philippines, this wouldn't have been such a sad story except that Jose was poor. Because of that poverty and his love for his son, he decided to go abroad, into the land of sands, Arabia, to tend to the black gold that they were abundantly extracting from the earth.

With Jose gone, the baby, his little Joseph was left alone, orphaned, not by Death but by Fortune, and lived a life of sadness and old fashioned love. He was raised by his grandfather. The old man, being old and old fashioned, didn't know how to care for children anymore save for one adage: discipline is love. While Jose was away, when the grandfather would play cards, and with no one to look after little Joseph, he was often left tied up by one ankle to the window grills of the house. There, he would look sourly and jealously at the neighbor's kids, playing and laughing their hearts out in the dirt. Sometimes, unable to help but want to be happy, he would cry out loudly to his grandfather to release him. Sadly, the grandfather had a temper and a slight case of deafness. As a consequence, the old man just ignores the little kid's cries, and if he does notice, he made it known to little Joseph through a very blunt messenger, a quick yet painful tap of a walking stick on the kid's head.

As years go by, little Joseph was old enough to take care of himself and so, the old grandfather decided to die. To little Joseph, this was cause for celebration, not because he got rid of the mean grandfather that tied him up or beat him on the head; the death caused Jose to return home and reunite with his son, who's already 17 years of age.

Meanwhile, within that 17 years of absence, Jose found himself a bride-to-be. As it happened, he was writing with a stately woman back in the Philippines by the name of Elle. Elle, as the youngest of her family, was already considered an old maid since she was now taking care of his aging father. All that kept her going were letters that Jose sent her from Arabia. Yet again, the death of Jose's father brought on another form of happiness. Elle and Jose planned to marry after a year from this death.

The fateful, happy day came. Jose and Elle were married, and it was a joyous occasion for the two of them. After a year, Elle bore a child, Jason, Jose's second first born, Joseph's half-brother. As a baby with a doting and, by this time, wealthy father, Jason received all the luxuries of life. As the first son of a youngest daughter, he was showered with gifts, toys, clothes, love and affection.

At this point, Joseph moved in with his father and step-mother. Surprisingly, this story doesn't have an evil step-mother. Ironically, the father and the first first-born son didn't agree so well, perhaps, because of the miles and years that they were apart. Strikingly, Joseph seemed to have an understanding with Elle. He never really called her "mother" or anything of that sort, but he did show his respect by calling her "Tita," which is what people in the Philippines usually calls their aunt. Joseph never despised his half-brother. In fact, he also treasured him like a real, whole brother. One day, after coming home from an excursion in the mall, he even bought his little brother a toy that sang whenever anyone presses its tummy.

To some people, this looked like a real family. However, as Elle, Joseph, and Jason grew close, Joseph and Jose grew farther from each other. Even if they were now living in the same roof, they were like two peanuts within their separate pods in separate fields in separate corners of the World. It seems that Jose didn't approve of the prolonged absences of his first first-born son. It seems that Joseph was not accustomed to answering to anyone, even to a person whom he should have been calling "father." As years went by, Jose, Elle, and Jason saw less and less of Joseph.

One night, he came home with news to tell. He came home with a woman, the mother of his child. Even though Jose didn't approve and Joseph was not accustomed to authority, they seemed to have come to an understanding. Since everything was all done, there was nothing else to do but to accept this simple section of a slice in the natural course of Life. In fact, this seemed to have reconciled Jose and Joseph. The father talked kindly to his son; the first first-born son learned to say "father."

Nevertheless, it seems that Life or perhaps, Fate was the antagonist of this story. Fate seemed to have caused Joseph to be a responsible young man and provide for his expecting wife. Fate seemed to have caused Jose to be more than a father -- he became a grandfather. With this grandiosity attached to his role and wanting to make up for his neglected son, he sent Joseph some groceries, food for the young family. On the way home to his new house, Joseph was killed.

Based on what the nosy neighbors said, Joseph died on a jeepney. A drug addict was riding with him and shot him dead. As expected, Jose mourned the death of his first first-born son. As usual, a funeral was done in the rain. As usual, life for Jose moved on because in mortal terms, Time heals all wounds.

At this point, the story got boring for the Little Boy. After 4 days of capturing his attention, glimpsing back in Time and focusing on the events that happened on 4 people while fast forwarding took too much of his energy. As he was moving away from his 4-day perch, a question struck him. "What was the meaning of all that? Why was it a story of a father atoning for his sins against his neglected son and a story of a reconciliation cut short?" With no answers to those questions, the Little Boy, Master of the Ivory Tower, started a fit. "Why, why why don't I know the answer?" It inflamed him that he doesn't know the answer; he who has been granted knowledge of everything by the Sun, the Moon, and Heaven does not hold an answer. With this, we will now leave the Little Boy to his rantings on top of the Ivory Tower on the top of the tallest mountain on the top of the world.

Credits to Deviant Art: Top left, Bound by Lidialikesgummybears; middle right, The Young by Life-takers-crayons; bottom left, Water Lady by sarasnaps.

Amaris and the Paper Airplane Prophecy

One cloudy, melancholic morning, the gates of Heaven opened up to let an angel, Uriel, fly down to the World and bring good news to a high-spirited maiden named Amaris. As the angel was flying down, blazing through the sky like a flaming bird, the Little Boy, Master of the Ivory Tower, laid eyes and ears on her. On top of the tallest mountain on the top of the word, the Ivory Tower's Master heard the angel muttering and sputtering, "Ave, Amaris! The One True God promises you success in that matter that you dread doing. Stand up, accomplish your deed, and give glory to the One True God!"

As the Legend of the Ivory Tower would have it, the Little Boy was incarcerated in the tower because he professed great knowledge that displeased the Sun and the Moon. The crime was blasphemy and pride and the punishment was futile knowledge of everything that concerned the Four Corners of the World. Even so, the Little Boy had not learned his lesson; he was still proud of getting attention to himself, so when he heard this angel, this absent-minded Uriel, fly across his horizon with news to bring to Amaris, he wanted to the deliver this news and pose as God's messenger.

Though the Sun and the Moon built the tower out of ivory and made sure that their prisoner can only perceive the epiphanies and the revelations of the four Dominions, they were not able to control an unfortunate piece of paper that was blown over and into the Ivory Tower by Hamsin, the southerly wind of Israel. With this wind-blown piece of paper, the Little Boy saw an opportunity for mischief. He wrote Uriel's message down, folded the piece of paper into an airplane, and sent it flying towards Amaris. The little paper airplane of a prophecy flew fast, for the Little Boy possessed the knowledge of origami and aeronautical engineering. He was so brilliant that the paper airplane flew faster than Uriel. However, his aim was not good; the little airplane was supposed to land on Amaris' lap in Israel, but it landed in Lebanon on the lap of a girl with the same name.

If Amaris of Israel was high-spirited, Amaris of Lebanon was a weak, introverted, and hesitant in personality. Amaris of Lebanon never did anything. She didn't think that she was strong enough, good enough, nor useful enough for anything. However, this didn't mean that she didn't have innermost desires. She wanted to go out to dinners with her friends, but she feared the dark. She wanted to become a nurse, but she thought she might not be capable of caring for sick people. She wanted to go to the zoo, but thought that she might get lost. More deeply, Amaris of Lebanon, of all things, wanted to cure herself of the fear of vampires.

As she is capable only of little things like turning book pages, she loved to read. In her room, she read books that were written to dispense courage and knowledge. Through her reading, she read that having sanguivoriphobia, the fear of vampires, should not concern her for the learned men think that vampires are not real, and she will never come across one in any of her lifetimes. Nevertheless, she was still afraid of vampires and of almost anything that she thought she cannot do.

As it happened, the little paper airplane landed on the wrong hands, the wrong Amaris. With her curiosity piqued, she unfolded and read the message on the piece of paper. As the message was divinely inspired, although it was handed down to the wrong person, the message was enough to inflame Amaris' courage and do all the things that she planned on doing. She went to a dinner party of one of her neighbors, which brought them amazement. She studied to become a nurse, which her ailing parents supported for the most practical reasons that their aching arthritic joints snapped at them. She was successful. After 4 years, she graduated and lived a life of courage and success. Even so, she wasn't happy because she has one more fear to face.

With this sanguivoriphobia left uncrossed on her list of things to overcome, she sought her parents' blessing to face this fear. "Amaris, vampires are not real," said her disapproving mother. "Even if you waste your life looking for vampires and use the next lifetimes that you will live, you'll never come across one, so leave it be. Let yourself be afraid of one thing," counseled her coughing father. "No, father!" Amaris cried out. "You named me Amaris, 'Promised by God.' That is all true and I've received this letter, this promise from God. I shall see a vampire and conquer my fear of it!" With those words, she left her house to seek a vampire.

As luck or the promise of God would have it, it didn't take long for her to find a vampire. As she was walking in the Jeita Grotto on Mount Lebanon, she stumbled upon a sleeping shape submerged in the soil of the inner sanctum of the grotto. As many phobic people know, there is an automatic, almost precognitive sensation when coming across the object of fear. It was like a trickle of cold sand down her back for Amaris. She knew that she found a vampire. It was already dusk when this happened so she decided for herself that the vampire must wake before she renounced her fear. She didn't have to wait long because the vampire chose to sleep deep in the subterranean cavern where the light of the Sun does not reach. As the Sun tuck its last rays in the West, the vampire woke and saw that Amaris was standing over him.

"My name is Amaris, and I am not afraid of you -- not anymore," she proclaimed.

The vampire raised an eyebrow. "Ow, is that the truth? Why are you not afraid of me who drinks the waters off of the Red Rivers of Life?"

"I am Amaris, ‘Promised by God.’ He, the Most High, told me that I will succeed in anything that I dread doing. I dreaded your kind even though you were thought of as non-existent. I am here, brave and standing -- proof that I have already succeeded in my deed," answered Amaris as she held the paper prophecy that the Master of the Ivory Tower sent flying with trembling hands.

"Did your god promise you that you'll live to say that you succeeded? Did your precious revelation tell you that you'd continue to breathe after your deed? I do not claim that I know your fate nor your god, but I do know myself enough to say that you will fail in the bloodiest manner," triumphantly taunted the vampire.

With a quick step and a deep kiss on the nape, Amaris fell dead, drained, and defeated in the deed that she thought she could succeed in. The vampire was victorious and, once again, wallowed in the red waters of the River of Life. After feeding, he took the paper containing the message that the girl blindly believed. He noticed that there were creases that caused him to fold it back into a paper airplane. As a joke to God and His glory, the vampire went out into the Lebanese night, climbed up Mount Lebanon, and let the paper airplane fly back to Heaven.

Like a redundant redundancy, the airplane, the paper that Hamsin blew up to the Ivory Tower some 4 years ago flew back into the tower and crossed the horizon of the Little Boy, the Master of the Ivory Tower. As he was granted faultless perception, he saw the sad fate that he had caused Amaris. He saw the paper airplane that he sent out and caught it in the wind, but contrary to his initial design, his intent to beat Uriel in delivering a divine revelation, he was only successful in leading a girl into a foolish feat and a deadly doom. There and then, the Little Boy, on top of the Ivory Tower, on top of the highest mountain on top of the World went into a fit while sputtering and muttering that he needed practice in aiming paper airplanes to reach the right destination.

Thanks once again to Deviant Art for giving me rose-emily-power (Sad Eyes, middle left), windfalcon (Lady of Dreams, top right), verificus (Paper Plane, bottom left), and Google Search that lead me to Russian Paintings and Matrehin Alexander (Canyon, middle right).

The Perfumer and the Beloved of Provence

Below Heaven, on top of the World, on top of the Ivory Tower, the Little Boy gazed at the wideness of the Earth and the capacity of it's inhabitants to do strange things. After all the time that he was incarcerated, a millennium or two, the Little Boy saw that humans, little ants in his field of vision, have the ability to cloud their judgment with an emotion called love. He has seen so many stories about love and how it blinds men and women of everything save what they want to see. He can recount to us all that it's a pattern, an affliction, a genetic flaw that our species has endured for over 20, 000 years.

Usually, he would only look at a love story and then, turn the other way, for he has memorized the many themes that it could take, especially that of blind love. However, one day, he found an interesting, almost unbelievable tale of blind love that did not involve vision. He found a story about love and how it can also cloud an automatic sense -- smell.

As he was gazing at the lavender fields of France, the Little Boy spied on a perfumer. As the wind named Arsine blew from Hautes Alpes, to Provence, and to the Ivory Tower, the Boy smelled the sweet, thin fragrance of lavender being distilled by this man, this perfumer that we'll learn to call Jean. Jean, named after the great yet deranged Jean Baptiste Grenouille, didn't dream of making the World's best perfume; instead, he was set on smelling the scent of love that only the woman of his dreams can emit. We would call him obsessed because he had the best nose to rival any perfumer of his time, but he insists on making only the scent that his love wore on her neck, wrist, and bosom.

This woman, whose sensuous, silky skin smelled of lavender, is named Aimee. She was the beloved in the land of Provence. As a testament of this description, every bird of the woods sang songs that spoke her name. Each blade of grass bowed as she strode through the fields. The maid's cauldron only bubbled and boiled with bravado when the meal is for Aimee. The fishes leaped into nets as fishermen shouted, "What shall we serve for our beloved, Aimee?" All of Provence toasted because they had Aimee in their midst.

Jean, the Perfumer, knew he stood little chance of getting Aimee's hand in marriage. He was poor for his refusal to concoct colognes and perfumes that smelled of other things other than lavender. However, he felt hope because Aimee, at the mature age of 24, was still unmarried. She refused to marry for some unknown, untold reason that puzzled her many suitors. As Luck would have it, she was held by an obsession for the smell of lavender because she felt an affinity to the most beautiful and bounteous flower on Provence. She vowed that she'll only marry the man that can bring her the best perfume with a lavender overtone. This secret was only known to the lavender fields, her usual haunting place whenever her suitors stressed and strained her to succumb.

Thus, Jean continued plucking lavender flowers to satisfy his obsession for Aimee. Aimee continued to lament to the lavenders for the lack of a man that brought the sign that will tell her who to marry. In the middle, the lavender field continued to grow purpler and purpler with anger to the endless massacre and melancholic moping that they endured. Finally, one lavender stalk was struck with stunning idea. "Why don't we tell Jean that Aimee needs only a vial of the best lavender perfume? That will get both of them off our fields!" A hush, and a wave of excitement swept over the field. "Yes! Yes, we will do that! At first light, at first light, when the Perfumer plucks his pick of flowers, we will tell him this secret of secrets!"

With the decision decided, Jean learnt the secret. Aimee received Jean as her husband, and they lived happily, or so it seems. After a year, the vial of Jean's perfect perfume was empty, and he needed to make more for his Beloved. To make the situation more stressful, the lavenders also sensed that they are, yet again, at the face of a massacre as they smelt Aimee walking down the path not smelling anything at all near the scent of their purple flowers.

With this new nuisance, they had to produce a plan to stop Jean from plucking them. The same lavender stalk, now more devious than before, devised a plan involving devilry and death. "We have to kill Aimee so that Jean would stop scything and plucking from our field. If we are fortunate, we could also kill him with grief." The other lavender stalks swayed to and fro with indecision, but the temptation of survival won over saintly sense. "Yes, we shall kill her! Roll her to a ditch and let her be taken away by the stray beasts that blunder in the bushes." The plan went on flawlessly. As lavenders, they knew how to exude a better aroma than Jean's distillations. They gave off a scent so irresistible that Aimee, in the middle of the night, slipped silently into the fields, mesmerized by the smell of lavender. Into a ditch she fell without a murmur. She fell, died, and was dragged off by bumbling bear into a winter hole used for hibernation, hidden by shadows and stones.

Morning came, and Jean woke up to an empty bedroom save himself and the furniture. Thinking that Aimee was cooking omelets, he went into the kitchen. Hypothesizing that she went to the hens for eggs, he went into the chicken coop. Thinking that she went into the market for some milk, he marched to the market place, but alas, Provence' Beloved is missing! Days went on, but there was no sign of Aimee until one day. Jean, exhausted with searching for his wife, sat down, wept, and breathed deeply. As he was inhaling, he was able to smell Aimee from the distance. He smelled the lavender perfume he has concocted even when the source is miles away from him. Now, filled with hope and the thrill of the Hunt, he closed his eyes and raised his nose to the air. He sniffed and snuffed while running and stumbling through fields, forests, and fens. He never opened his eyes for fear that he might loose the scent, the only link that he had to finding his wife.

Ultimately, his superb sense of smell led him to Aimee. He knew because there was no other place that smelled so strongly of his lavender perfume. He smiled, opened his arms, expecting an embrace from his wife. After a minute that felt like a millennium, he wondered why she has not wrapped her arms around him, so he opened his eyes. When Jean saw Aimee, his heart thumped its last beat, broke, and fell silent. He was killed by the sight of his decomposing wife, wreathed with writhing worms, maggots, and murmuring flies. With his blind love for her, he failed to smell the death and decay that surrounded him. He only saw or, in this case, smelled the lavender on her dead body. With all his talent in the art of aroma, he clouded his perception, ignored the suffocating stench, and succeeded in finding his death and his dead wife. As such, Jean fell to the ground as well, and the wind, Arsine, changed the scent it carried.

The Little Boy saw and smelled each scene in this sad story of blind love. As Arsine continued to blow into the windows of the Tower, the Little Boy shook his head, walked away from the topmost window of the Ivory Tower atop the tallest mountain on the top of the World just beneath Heaven.

What would I do without Deviant Art? Thank you to kirilart (Sea of Lavender, top left), RohanElf (Farewell Draco Veritas, middle right), wicked-rick (Lavender, middle left), and iloz (Lavender Mist, bottom right.)