Chapter Text
In a small village embraced by hills lives a girl will golden eyes that rival the setting sun, and the rich earthy colour of her hair is a symbol of the god’s blessing. Named after the organic gem of fossilized tree resin, There is no plant that ever dies in Amber’s hands. Her ability to bring life to plants has made her family’s legacy as florists easier. Bountiful.
Amber was an only child since the blessing of her existence has made it difficult for her mother to conceive but they have never blamed her for it. They loved their daughter with their whole heart. Amber’s parents have made it a point to make her feel loved with or without a blessing she was theirs and she was their whole world.
But every great thing has a setback, with every blessing comes a curse. Amber’s mother was a beautiful woman who had deep blue eyes and chocolate brown hair cascading down in a loose low ponytail at her left shoulder who often joked and teased her husband; a broad liyuean man with dirty blond hair whose dull ember eyes glowed like a fireplace whenever they landed at his wife and child. It was a quiet night for their small nuclear family of three, Amber’s mother was busy setting up the table for dinner while her father was coming in through the front door after closing their flower shop.
The man made his way to his wife wrapping his arms around her waist as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, pressing a kiss there and sending his wife into a giggle before she slapped his arm and sent him off to call their daughter from the shed for supper.
It was the day Amber gave life to her first hybrid. In the same way, Amber gives life to the plants around her, some of her flowers also had the power to take lives.
Upon the sound of the shed doors opening, Amber swung her pot around. A trail of violet pollen made itself visible with her every move, “Dad! Look I made this!” Amber ran towards her father raising the plant for him to see. Whoever has seen the man alive for the last time could see from a mile away that he had a hard time breathing, but that never stopped him from patting Amber’s head along with one final smile he gave his daughter as he fell apart in front of her.
Amber’s wail was loud enough to wake the entire village. A few neighbours that came first to the scene and tried to help also fell victim. The poisonous pollen took half a dozen lives before it was cleared and the plant was properly disposed of. The gloom that enveloped Amber’s life at the sudden death of her parents was enough to deter any villager to direct the blame on the child.
It took months before Amber properly had a guardian, living as an only child in a small village in the mountains, it was hard to contact anyone from beyond the embrace of the peaks, harder so to spread news of anyone’s passing to relatives from outside. So when her grandfather came to visit, ignorant of the death of his son and daughter-in-law, he was expecting to see blooming flowers on the porch with healthy green vines wrapped around the fence, not a run-down house, so close to looking abandoned if not for the smoke coming out of the chimney.
‘Were they raided?’ was his first thought but the house didn’t look like it was on the brink of destruction. No broken windows or ruined sills, it just looked neglected. His son would have mentioned something if they were planning to move, a letter or maybe just leave someone to inform him if ever he comes to visit but there were none.
The man slowly approached the house, pushing the door open and the sight of dirty brown hair, a scrawny child’s head turn in his direction. He knew those eyes, the image of his granddaughter before he made him feel like there was a lump stuck in his throat.
The old man tried, he tried his best for her but there was only so much he could do. He decided to stay with her, cleaning the house, feeding her, and taking care of her. But he knows, that there are things he could not change with Amber. Like how she blamed herself for the death of her parents or how she hated everything that reminds of her blessing.
Amber went through an arsonist phase, setting everything she hated on fire. Most of which were the plants that grow where she walked, touched, and basically any organic life form that comes from her blessing. At first, it was quite harmless, her grandfather didn’t see the need to scold her, seeing as she may just be coping but it became a different issue when Amber started to burn herself.
It came accidentally, she was feeding a fire pit with the flowers that were freshly bloomed from her small stroll when a rock sparked a small explosion from the heat and bounced a couple of burning stems which landed on Amber’s leg.
The pain, to Amber, was addicting, like a gasp from holding her breath for too long but far too fleeting to breathe freely so she chases after it, for that air, the sweet sensation of having her skin being eaten and eroded by the heat. She wanted more, she needed more.
Amber took her time experimenting with what burns make the most satisfying sensations. She discovered that blisters were not her thing, the watery sensation beneath her skin was more annoying than it was satisfying. It was also difficult to hide and it took too long to heal. The deeper the burn the harder they are to manage and keep out of sight.
By the time her grandfather found out about her little tendencies, Amber has already perfected her method of self-harm. Her ideal burn was in the form of prolonged skin contact with heated metal. Scalds. It was as if her skin was littered with brands as if she was cattle passed around by different owners from the considerable number of marks on her arms and legs.
The old man could not hold his tears when he saw what she did to herself. His beloved granddaughter was going through something so serious and he didn’t even realize it. It was the first time that Amber saw her grandfather beg, not for himself but for her to stop hurting herself.
Old habits die hard, they say. It took years for Amber to abandon her tendencies, she resisted even when she was on the brink of a relapse. The image of her grandfather on his knees with tears in his eyes, holding her hand tightly like she might disappear if he lets go, pulls at the guilt in her heart.
Amber managed to slowly build herself back together with a promise from her grandfather when the old man bid her farewell with a promise to come back. Little did he know it was the last time he will ever see her alive.
True to her promise when her grandfather left, Amber restored her family’s flower shop. She managed to grow flowers without the urge to burn them or herself. She slowly built a life with her blessing once more. She reconnected with the village and built a business of delivering flowers to the townsfolk for birthdays, weddings, simple celebrations, or just decoration.
Until he came...