It had been a while since Rani had departed to Sadina. Aloe looked at the ceiling with dead eyes, only a slow and tired blink once in a while interrupted the process. As the days passed, everything became harder. The more she had to stay in this cursed bed, the worse everything was. The less human she felt every time she had to do her business. It was demoralizing to soil herself every single day and then have someone clean it up.
That was no manner to live a life.
With the days, she had learned the names of the people who assisted her. Nor that she had asked, or remembered doing so, but when you spent so much time with a person, their name was bound to drop at some point. The hard part was holding to that piece of information.
The maid who cleaned and bathed her was called Farah. Her age was advanced for a maid, Aloe assumed she had to be some sort of head maid to remain in such a den of debauchery with her growing wrinkles and her faint traces of whitened hair. She couldn’t be older than forty-something, but in a place where most maids weren’t older than twenty-five, she was ancient.
The physician – a person even older than Farah – went by the name of Zeeshan. As she had heard from one of the maids, the bald man was the court physician, even if his demeanor left a lot to desire.
Farah and Zeeshan were basically the only ones that visited her bedchamber. Some maids brought her food or tried to change the sheets to the best of their abilities when Farah was not available, but their faces were a blur to Aloe.
Everything was a blur.
No matter how much Zeeshan tried to motivate her, she would be bedridden for a while more. Weeks before this, when she was recently appointed as the scribe of commoners of Sadina, Aloe would have begged for a rest like this. Not required to do anything at all for days. But right now, she would give everything to be back in that position, sleep-deprived, lightheaded, and with sore wrists. That sounded way more lovely than her current situation.
From time to time, her crotch itched.
Pings of tasteless memories assaulted her with each of those times.
Aloe tried to focus her mind, but every time she failed. And in the case she succeeded, the lucidity only made her fall into a deeper depression. She oscillated constantly on the idea that it was worth it to keep thinking. At all.
A fragrant smell awoke her.
The scribe opened her eyes to find Farah with a pot of incense in her hands, burning with enough potency to not be oppressive.
“Did I awake you, venerable scribe?” Aloe responded with a tired blink. “Sorry, I wanted to clean but I decided that the room was gathering a bit of a stench even with the windows open. I find this incense to work nicely on such occasions.”
The head maid restarted cleaning, but as the smell continued to caress Aloe’s nostrils, she couldn’t keep herself silent.
“W-what...” Her throat itched even if she had water at her disposal at all times. “What incense is it?”
Farah turned to face her with a duster in her hand and a warm smile on her face. “Lavander, venerable scribe.”
“Lavander...” Aloe knew of such a plant. She didn’t have one herself, but it wasn’t that uncommon of a sight. Especially in the gardens of the palace of Sadina.
Plants. The thought echoed in her mind. Plants. It was a drum of a constant thrum. It wasn’t oppressive like those in carnivals, but it wasn’t exactly pleasing. Plants. She kept thinking to herself.
She had opted to not think about anything during her recovery, not only it was hard, but if she thought for too long... there were things she didn’t want to think about. But that idea, that of a flower resonated on her mind.
‘Toughness’ had been useful with her pain, she was too weakened for her infusion to perform at optimal performance. Even now, with days of having ‘toughness’ constantly up and her vitality topped, the pain was great. It became easy if she remained still, but in the few moments she had to move, her hips would scream in protest and almost make her faint in some cases.
Zeeshan said that there was hope for her, that with enough rest, in a few months, she could walk again. But Aloe knew that wasn’t the case. She felt it in her bones. That pain was too great. It wasn’t a pain that would heal, no matter how much time she gave it. It wasn’t ephemeral, that much was clear to her.
Plants. Flower. Evolution.
If Infusion hadn’t worked, what about Evolution?
Aloe’s eyes shot wide open, her back springing up from the bed in realization. As much as she was excited, the wrongness of her gesture instantly became apparent as her body screamed in protest, making the woman groan in pain.
“Aloe!” Farah shouted in panic, forgetting momentarily about honorifics. “Are you alright? Is there something wrong?”
“I...” Aloe held her body weight on her hands, removing as much strain from her hips as possible, but her breath was rugged and her eyes moist from the pain. An exhausted groan escaped her lips. “I am fine.” She then laid once more on the bed. “Just a cramp.” She lied with uncanny easiness.
“Thank the heavens.” The mature woman exhaled with a hand on her bountiful cleavage. “You should be more careful. Movements like these could cost you dearly. Remember that I am here to serve you.”
“I know... I know.” Aloe responded, every word fainter than the previous one. “Could I get some food?”
“But of course, venerable scribe.” Farah nodded and made her way out of the room.
The maid didn’t question why she wanted to eat this early in the day, especially as Aloe had had breakfast not that long ago. Truth be told, she wasn’t hungry, she just wanted to be alone in her bedchamber for a moment.
Aloe took a deep breath and calmed herself. She reached with some difficulty to the nightstand next to her bed and drank water from a cup. Her throat felt much better after that.
“Hope’s not lost,” Aloe told herself, life blossoming away in her eyes. It felt weird to be that lifeful after resembling a corpse for so long. The sheer willingness to live already made her body stronger, more resilient, more vital.
There was a single reason for it.
“The Blossomflame.” The scribe recalled the small red flower in her greenhouse. “It accelerated healing by a lot. I don’t know if it’s natural regeneration or... something else. But... even if it’s just my body’s healing that it’s accelerated, a few minutes will already be days. If I stay days with the plant, it could be as much as years...”
She knew that scars couldn’t heal, but years was a lot of time. Maybe enough to allow her to walk again. To be disposed of her humiliation and retake her life, to shed weakness for strength. The fire of life blossomed on her. Alongside other fires.
“What if I made another one...” She pondered. “I will need weeks before I can make the travel to Sadina, and even then, I can’t take the short route. With my health, a sandstorm will be lethal, and whoever has to carry me there, surely they won’t care about leaving behind a... disabled woman.”
Aloe bit her underlip. It was the truth, but it hurt, nonetheless. The fact that she came to that conclusion herself made it tolerable. If someone else had told her that... she doubted her heart could have handled it.
“A few weeks, plus another of travel...” The scribe sighed. “I won’t be out of here well past mid-spring, maybe even the beginning of summer depending on the travel...”
She recalled what she needed to make a Blossomflame. A single cumin seed. A seed that Ydazi cuisine used constantly as a spice to flavor up plates. It would be easy to get her hands on one without raising suspicion.
“But then...” Strength left her body. “If I made a Blossomflame, the palace would find about it. She would find out about it.”
Her teeth gritted with a sick screech.
The sheer thought that Aaliyah put her claws on HER Blossomflame made Aloe sick. It made her blood boil. Her fingers curled like talons at the prospect, bones threatening to pop out of her skin.
“She doesn’t know about Evolution,” Aloe recalled the long monologue the sultanah dedicated her before the fateful night. “At least it doesn’t look like it. She already knows one vital art more than me, if she finds out about Evolution...” Her heart stopped for a moment. “This isn’t about me any longer, Aaliyah cannot have another vital art. For the sake of the Ydaz. For the sake of Khaffat.”
Aloe would prefer to remain disabled for the rest of her life before giving that woman more power; sanctity and justice be damned. Just out of spite.
Well, I have almost run out of stockpile after writing my other story for two weeks straight. The Project Tycoon and Enlightening Reality manuscripts are almost the same length now.
Thanks to my patrons on 
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