Violet's Arc

Chapter 3 of 10

Violet came down the violet-lined path with her jar full. The blooms were bright, but Cornelius had warned her: by morning, they would wilt. She needed a way to hold them through the night. Cornelius waited at his small wooden kiosk near the trailhead. He tapped the post with one claw. "I built something. Come see." Behind the kiosk stood a carved wash station, water running clear through a shallow basin. "Cold mountain water," he said. "Stems down. Slow drip. They keep till dawn." He paused. "My grandfather kept his roses this way." Violet set each bloom in the basin. She counted them, recorded the time, and extracted one small sample to test against herself. The bitterness in her did not move. But the blooms held. Their color stayed. By lantern light, she sealed the kept violets in her silver jar. They were alive. The brew could begin tomorrow with fresh petals — but a new worry pressed in. Cornelius watched her hand shake once on the lid. "You're testing yourself again," he said quietly. She nodded. The blooms were saved. She was the part that wasn't.