Hidden Blossom
The Hidden Blossom technically never closed, but all the patrons had left about an hour ago, being respectful of Eve’s time and worsening condition. Eve sat in her “office,” a cozy booth in the center of the room surrounded by the memories of her countless adventures. The wall behind her was adorned with smiling photographs and mementos from her travels, a testament to her adventurous spirit and the love she had for life.
In front of her was a round table, cluttered with stacks of paper, writing tools, a mostly empty bottle, and a mostly full glass. Suspended above the table was an intricately carved wooden airship, glowing softly with the blue light of its Spectrocite core.
Eve held a framed photograph in her hand, a youthful image of a young girl with a giant floppy hat, three times too big for her head, beaming back at her. She smiled wistfully, her mind transported back to the day she had accepted a dare to fly over the treacherous peaks of Sky Edge in her V-100 Sparrow. She hadn’t succeeded, crashing high into the steep mountainside, sustaining serious injuries including a broken collar bone, a broken right leg, and numerous scrapes and bruises.
As she stumbled out of the wreckage, her mind clouded by a concussion, Eve fell face first into a patch of torn up Anchor Root plants – a plant species that was then undiscovered and unnamed. The impact of her crash had dislodged and smashed open the bulbs, and Eve’s face was smeared with the mashed pulp of the Anchor Root, infusing its potent properties into her wounds. It was a moment that would forever change the course of her life and the lives of those around her.
The first person to arrive at the crash site had been Lena, who had been exploring the lower part of the mountain when the Spectrocite smoke caught her eye. By then Eve had applied the crushed Anchor Root to most of her wounds, some had a strong effect while others did next to nothing to ease her pain. The image of five year old Lena’s smiling face, mostly hidden by her hat, three times to big for her, was permanently etched into Eve’s mind. She had clambored over the nearly impassible cliffs that would soon become her family farm, their paths now inextracably linked.
It took more than three hours for Lena to fetch her father and reascend the mountain with a compact stretcher. It’s worn Spectro core barely provided much lift anymore and the trip down the mountain was long and bumpy. They had tried to being a bulb with them, but had only managed a tiny piece of the most potent Anchor Root. It was enough to change all of their lives.
Lena’s father had discovered the secret to farming the Anchor Root while Eve created the recipe for Nectar. Eve had flown the dangerous flight path to the farm over 1,221 times, recorded in the well-worn logbook in front of her. She gazed lovingly at the photo of little Lena and closed her eyes, imagining her warm smile greeting her after each flight, watching her grow up before her eyes, always in her floppy hat.
But now, Eve knew she would not be making a 1,222nd flight to Lena’s farm. She felt a wave of sadness wash over her as she realized she was too weak to continue flying. She blinked away a tear, took a deep breath, and filled her thoughts with love for Lena, her adoptive daughter. She chuckled to herself as she looked at her aging hands, feeling more like a grandmother than a mother. As she sat there, surrounded by the memories of her life, she breathed in the lightly perfumed air of the tavern and felt a sense of peace.