Of Sweet Roses and Thorns

...



Drip…. Drip….





Something drips in the darkness, gently stirring my broken form from blessed rest….




I am greeted by the icy bite of shackles and the itch of the gritty stone beneath me.


My body is racked with pain.


       Questions race through my tired mind. When's and where's and how long's that I cannot answer.
…..No time exists here, I think. Nothing to mark the seconds, the hours… Only cold exists here, and the dampness, in this endless darkness, I know not where….


….I realize now that I cannot open my eyes….. No, that's not quite right. It is only my right eye. It feels swollen shut, an ache throbbing in time with my ragged heart. …I suppose it is the kiss of a blow gone astray, so very close to blinding me, perhaps… But I do not want to remember, it is too painful, and I stop thinking for a while…





         Yet a memory nags at the back of my mind…. ..No. I'm too weary to think on it…. Too broken, I yearn only to sleep once more. I know it alone stops the stinging of my flesh…..
  But the dripping persists; warm liquid, alarmingly familiar, slowly slithers down my back and legs and into my eyes. Too dark to see, I already know its color.


        Sleep eludes me. I will succumb to this memory that persists while I am still conscious to grasp onto it. It is… familiar and warm… A memory from before all this. It harries the back of my mind, incessant, and I remember now that I need to tell this, yes, I absolutely need to tell someone this story. …Even if only to myself, alone… I am coming out of something, something strange and foreign, and yes, I need to tell this story, to remember the past before it slips from my grasp forever, while I still have the clarity of mind to speak the words…



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        "Oh, it can't be all that bad, Georik!" St. Germant, smiling over the rim of a steaming cup of delicious hot tea, laughed warmly at his long-lost friend sitting across from him at the sun-bathed table.  

       One of his closest friends since they were both young boys, Georik's recent return to their shared hometown Kamazene had St. Germant in especially high spirits. Despite Georik's protesting, St. Germant had canceled all his evening appointments and business meetings at the drop of a hat for the chance to meet with him in the local tavern, their favorite since before Georik moved to the country for his sister's, and St. Germant's betrothed, fragile health.

     Mikhail, the last of the trio of childhood friends, was also invited without delay to welcome Georik back to palace grounds, yet he was already a half-hour late and there was no sign of him as of yet. The two friends had speculated his delay was no doubt due to official business as Captain of the Royal Guard. That, or he surely got into some kind of brawl on the way, as was in his nature. The two had happily laughed as they considered what ridiculous scenarios Mikhail's hot temper and loose tongue could possibly have gotten him into. While patiently waiting for him to arrive, they had both ordered drinks and basked in the warm sun of the Kamazene evening, enjoying each other's company and pleasant conversation. They had gazed out the large window beside their table and watched the city streets for the idle bustle of the businessmen, the beautiful Kamazene women in afternoon gowns riding off in horse-drawn carriages toward evening parties, and the shop owners laze outside their shops, prowling through the leisurely crowd for potential customers. The two had sipped their beverages in the sun until the hallowed bells of the city's bell tower sang their evening song, a pleasant chime that marked the time in an otherwise timeless pleasantry.
      Eventually, though, the conversation had turned to the offer Georik had received. He'd been given the opportunity to return to Kamazene from the country to retain his title of head physician for the King, a great honor for the country doctor that would include an impressive salary along with great respect and a return to the loving friends and the mansion he had left behind. Yet, when St. Germant had warmly congratulated him, he noticed a shadow fall upon his friend's fair face. Concerned, St. Germant had questioned what could be troubling his dear friend.

     The scientist brushed a strand of his golden hair from his face. He set the teacup gently down on the table and continued his conversation. "Actually, Georik, it sounds like a job with responsibility, and it should be very rewarding for you, as well!"
    Georik downcast his eyes to his hands, interlaced, upon the tabletop. "Yes, that part is just fine," he began, his voice, already deeper in pitch than St. Germant's, low with subtle uneasiness. "The thing I'm worried about is Bruno Glenning himself… I just don't trust him. I have no idea what that man is thinking…. It seems to me that there must be a side to this I can't see yet…."
     St. Germant frowned slightly and cocked his head. Bruno was the man who, though a stranger to them both and a relatively new face around the palace, had requested the doctor's presence specifically. An odd request, no doubt, but very generous. Yet, indeed, his friend's eyes had clouded at the very mention of his name. "Did something happen between you two? Or has some nasty rumor about him caught your ear?"
   "No, it's nothing like that….." Georik looked off to the side and gazed out the large window at the cityscape, glowing in the haze in the evening sun. He took a long sip from the glass of wine in front of him. St. Germant watched his friend's troubled face, bathed too in that orange glow, but Georik did not say anything more. Not one to pry, St. Germant instead sipped his tea.

      The two sat in silence for a while, still enjoying the ease of the rare, commitment-less evening despite the lull in conversation. St. Germant rested his head on his pale hands. His eyes scanned the dwindling crowd for the great curling locks or the bright white gleam of the clothing of their absent friend. The crowd slowly dispersed with no sign of him. After a while the young man leaned back in his seat, pushed his large glasses up the bridge of his tiny nose in a gentle, methodic movement, and sighed deeply.

       "Well…. I don't think there will be any problems, then…. I myself will be meeting the man soon." At Georik's questioning glance, St. Germant's somber expression turned to a secretive smile. "I hear that Bruno is quickly becoming one of the King's most trusted aides. He sounds like quite an interesting fellow indeed to me. I have overheard that as the King's aid, he will be conducting a performance review of most of the major branches receiving cuts of the royal budget, including one of my position as head mechanical engineer. At least, that is what some of my coworkers are saying..." The man smiled warmly. "I guess then I'll have to meet this man and see for myself! But I'm sure we'll get along wonderfully. Er… Well, that is, as long as one of my inventions doesn't explode on the poor fellow..!" He giggled freely, hiding his bright, grinning face and a wink behind another sip of his tea.

     The dark haired man, despite his tumultuous thoughts, allowed himself a small smile at the expense of his friend's joke. He brought up his glass of wine to his lips and took in the sweet, bold flavor. It seemed to wash some of the bitterness in his mind away. When he glanced up again unhurriedly, he saw his friend looking so untroubled. He glowed in the soft rays of light.
      As St. Germant returned to drinking the last of his tea, Georik set the wineglass upon the mahogany and sat back in his chair to really take a look at the friend he'd left behind. 'How naive, he is…' he thought to himself absently.
    Looking back, he hadn't changed much at all since he had left. He still wore that extravagant white lab coat wherever he went during his work hours, even out in public, completely oblivious to social graces; he still was as thin and fragile in frame; he still had his golden yellow hair in a disarray of curls cut off at his shoulders; and ever still had he that disarmingly innocent smile….
    Yes, Georik thought, St. Germant was such an interesting specimen of a young man... So young and ignorant to real life, a hopeless Romanticist, yet a truly genius mind in his field of research. This was one so mechanically skilled and so entrusted as to be called the "Walking National Secret." Yet for all his genius, Georik's friend seemed ethereal, almost impossible, as if such a kind of young man could not truly exist in these times. It was his personality: so optimistic, gleeful, and completely trusting that he seemed to glow with happiness like pale sunlight. A beautiful young man in every sense of the word, truly. His extraordinary kindness had been the spark to their friendship back when they were only boys. Even when faced with his many bullies and the cruelties brought upon him by his timid nature, the young boy would always have something bright and wonderful to say. Yet even now he was so oblivious to reality that Georik absently wondered if it was only a matter of time until this ethereal specimen of happy, naive light would simply burn out, a victim to his own clumsiness, ignorance, and misjudgment….


     "OH! THANK GOD I FOUND YOU!! There you are, young master!!" interrupted a loud, shrill voice.


       Both of the friends gave a startled jump in surprise; St. Germant himself especially, spilling the last of his hot tea on his lap. Jumping a second time, he yelped and again startled Georik along with a few other patrons nursing their own drinks nearby.
      Frantz, St. Germant's personal assistant, rushed up to the table, bumping into it bodily and rocking the liquid in the wineglass. His vision was obviously impaired by all kinds of blueprints and other seemingly important documents which he gripped tightly in his arms. Georik watched him, expectant of a continuation for his loud, unexpected outburst. Yet the man's black hair was drenched with sweat and his chest heaved with heavy, panting breath. He doubled over, holding up one free finger amid the papers in a plea to allow him to breathe for a moment.

    The young scientist closed his eyes and gave Frantz a sheepish smile as he quickly used a napkin to stop the spread of searing pain in his lap. "Oh..! There you are, Frantz..! It's a pleasure to see you once more. Honestly, I was wondering where you'd gone to!" he greeted his long-time employee.
   Exasperated, Frantz forgot his heaving breathing and snapped, "Wondering.. *gasp!* ..where..  *gasp!* ..I've gone to…?? *gasp!* Young master! I have been literally running all around town.. *gasp!* ..looking for you ….since lunch!"

     The man cocked his head, frowning with slight concern. "…Oh? Why ever for?"
      Unable to control an exclamation of his exasperation, Frantz scoffed loudly. Throwing up his hands in frustration, he dropped all of the important documents loosely upon the floor. Georik, rather a third wheel at this point, stared blankly downwards as a top secret blueprint unraveled at his feet... Frantz then quickly dug into the pocket of his expensive suit-coat. Out from within it he whipped a crumpled piece of paper. Written on it, in messy scrawl, was a message reading,

   "Hello, Frantz!! I do hope you receive this message presently. I apologize, but will you kindly cancel all of my conferences scheduled for this evening? A wonderful friend of mine is coming to town and I simply must meet him today! I do hope that will be alright! Thank you kindly, Frantz! With love, St. Germant." The message concluded with a crudely drawn 'smiley face.'

      "Because… St. Germant, you had the audacity to leave THIS stuck on your front door…!"
      "Eh..?" The mechanical engineer leaned forward on the table slightly, squinting, as he adjusted his glasses to better read the crumpled letter. Then he leaned back and grinned. "…Oh, yes! Yes, I remember now…! The message I left for you…! So… Did you like my little smiley face…? Be honest, now."
       Frantz glared at him for a long moment, saying nothing.

       "…..Young master… I cannot even begin to elucidate upon how incredibly important your agenda is shaping up to be for this evening…. You must meet with the chemistry research team you yourself organized to discuss their latest test results regarding the new compound for the war machines, then Sir Henry Dickenson has requested your presence at the Grand Hall, then Lady Justine and her new fiancé have invited you over for tea and biscuits, then you've received a letter in response to that brusque refusal message you had me deliver to Sir Taylor in exchange for his wonderfully generous offer of a hunting invitation, you remember, Sir Taylor, founder of one of the wealthiest fundraisers for your laboratory supplies, and then you must examine these blueprints that some of your subordinates have requested your critique upon since you were absent from your office this morning, probably because you were much too busy writing me this ridiculous memorandum under the assumption that you can actually afford to simply CANCEL all of your important social and business obligations with a smiley face, and then- …. …. …. Young master, are you getting all of this..?"

       St. Germant stopped sopping up his lap with the napkin and looked up at his personal assistant. "Hmm…? Oh! Oh yes, Frantz. You said that I have to meet with the research team about the lab results, eat some biscuits someplace, go dancing at the Grand Hall… Uh…. Examine the blueprints for any mistakes…. And… a hunting invitation, I believe? If so, Frantz, could you just send whoever sent that a reply letter illustrating that I am a pacifist and am not fond of hunting or of hunters…? Thank you, my friend!" He smiled warmly and, determined to leave the table as spotless as he'd found it, returned to cleaning up the tea he'd spilled.


     …..Frantz then dragged the man out of the shop by his ear….


       "I apologize, Sir, for the conduct of my employer this evening and for his hasty departure, but I'm afraid he must be going, as he is very busy with many important obligations that he MUST be attending to…." Frantz grumbled as a swift apology to Georik as he trumped out the door of the tavern. He bumped it open with his hip as his hands were once again full of the documents and blueprints, and also full of St. Germant. Turning to his boss, he couldn't help but mumble a grumbling lament as he disappeared. "Honestly, you must be the most incompetent, air-headed idiot of a genius I have ever met… I can already feel my hair going gray…"
     "Uh…. Goodbye, Georik…! I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer…!" St. Germant called out to his friend, waving enthusiastically as he pranced backwards out the open doorway as well, still being dragged by his assistant. He disappeared momentarily behind the wall, the bells above the door chiming as it slammed shut with the force of the afternoon breeze. His face then appeared once more behind the large window beside Georik's table. He yelled to his friend through the glass. "Say hello to Mikhail for me…! And tell Lilith I love her…! Let's all meet up again sometime soon..! I-I'm so happy to have you back, Georik, I really am….!"
      The dark-haired man shook his head piteously and twisted his hand in a little wave, giving St. Germant the pleasure of a little smile before he vanished into the crowd of bustling businessmen, beautiful women, and street urchins still walking the evening sun-lit streets of Kamazene…

     Georik sat alone in the silence that followed. Soon began once again the idle chatter of the other patrons after the disturbance. It grew to a dull, white noise; each individual voice blending into mere murmur. The man sat, saying nothing, and sipped the last of his wine, thinking troubled thoughts as he listened to the soft tolling of the bells in the distance.





      A few days later….


      "Sir, Mister Glenning has requested that you are to report to the main laboratory for your performance review," said a timid young researcher as he peeked inside of the door to St. Germant's personal work office.
    The room was a large yet cluttered space filled with important work documents, half-finished robotic models, a few pieces of luxurious and very comfortable furnishings, and plans for new inventions plastered to every space on the walls. Dignified despite its disorder, a large golden plaque hung at the entrance that announced its owner's distinguished title. Conveniently located, it lay strategically nearby the palace laboratory and the royal library, both of which were where the scientist spent most of his time both on and off his scheduled work hours. The uplifting scent of fresh lilac wafted through the air. The warm smell originated from the bouquet of flowers resting in a beautiful twelfth-century vase in the corner, reminiscent of a lover left somewhere far away, yet always close in mind and heart.

       Not looking up from a small mechanical device cradled in his hands upon which he was working, St. Germant nodded and cordially replied, "Thank you, Victor, I'll be right with him in a moment… Just one more adjustment…" His voice trailed away as his concentration drifted from the young researcher to the machine.
     "Um, Sir…" The researcher began. But he soon grew silent once more, only watching his employer, clad still in his extravagant lab coat, contemplate his latest modifications with large, darting green eyes. There was a kind of tension hanging in the air. It hung thick as the scent of lilac.

     At the pause, St. Germant looked up from his contraption and right up at the young man, acknowledging him earnestly with a twinge of concern. "…What is it, Victor?"
     "Oh, well… I just wanted to wish you luck, Sir. I… It's been an incredible opportunity to be able to work underneath you. You're an excellent engineer, and you will do fine today, so do not worry yourself, Sir, please…" The researcher avoided his boss' eyes and instead looked at the floor dismissively, rubbing the back of his neck.
     The scientist's face slowly lit up at the kindness of his confession. He bowed slightly, giving another of his gentle, knowing smiles his way. "Thank you, Victor," he softly replied
      Feeling true understanding for things unsaid behind those simple words, the man bowed stiffly with a small upturning of his mouth of his own and slipped out the door. It closed quietly behind him, clicking into place.

    St. Germant then stood alone in the corner of his office. The methodic ticking of the clock high upon the wall was the only sound: a timely, steady noise in an otherwise silent room. The smell of lilac was sweet, subtle, and pleasant in the air. ...Yet somehow… unsettling. Tweaking at his contraption for a while longer, the head mechanical engineer in the kingdom, the "Walking National Secret," finally looked up at the clock lying stationary upon his wall amid the papers and documents. Blinking once at it, he gently set his work down upon a small antique table. His chest twinged with an indescribable kind of tightening, though he knew not why.
     A flash of blue wire and bronze metal caught his eye as he drew together his fleeting confidence and took a step toward the inescapable meeting. He paused. Green eyes surveyed the machines scattered about the cluttered floor. Only prototypes and models and forgotten ideas, even these were fascinating and complicated works only made possible by the truly skilled hands of a master mechanical engineer. Not only that, just yards away lay the royal laboratory where the even more impressive of his works were being meticulously studied and mass produced…

      ….A thought as to their purpose appeared in the back of his mind, then…. What these monstrosities truly did, what St. Germant was truly so masterful at accomplishing… A threatening shadow passed over his countenance, a darkness, yet he swiftly pushed it from his mind, daring not to think upon it. ...Instead only upon the good and the beauty in these magnificent works of art he had made. He cleared his throat, touching one hand gently to his chest. After a pause, the darkness slowly vanished from his ashen face. Composure rushed in to fill the void, and the brightness seemed to return to his taut cheeks and downturned eyes. As he gazed upon his inventions once more, silent now, St. Germant determined that he felt a twinge of pride in his heart for the accomplishments he'd made…

     He thought now upon the future. ...Upon the new experience, the new coworker and friend he was soon to meet. Nervous, that's all he was, he told himself…. A shy boy still after all this time, nothing more. Afraid he may not make a good impression, afraid of being clumsy or silly in some way, as he often was… How silly of him. Of course he'd make a wonderful impression. Feeling a growing confidence in his heart for the meeting approaching swiftly, as well as an excitement to meet a potential new coworker, he closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet lilac deeply.
    


     "Well," he said softly aloud to himself as he briskly dusted off his lab coat with both hands. "Guess it's time to meet this Bruno Glenning…."