Week 5 Story: The Meadow of Many Colors

Author Notes: This story is based on the Arabian Nights tale of Sultan and the Fish, which involves a fisherman who had given a series of colorful fish to the Sultan in exchange for riches. Upon discovering that these fish were not native to the area, curiosity strikes and he seeks to discover where they come from and why. He realizes that over time, these fish are actually people places under an enchantment by a wicked woman who lives in a castle nearby. One of the other enchanted beings she hits is her husband. My story is inspired by this with using flowers instead of fish being the people, as well as the king needing these flower for restoration and being lead by his curiosity to find the source of how these flowers conduct their magic. Please enjoy!

The Meadow of Many Colors

There once was a king who spent many nights praying to the gods of old and new. For his lovely wife had been stricken with an illness so cruel that he feared she would sleep and not make it to first light. He loved his queen dearly, just as she loved him. Her sickness had caused him to lie awake many nights. Over and over and over he’d talk with apothecaries, physicians, witch doctors; any being who had the possibilities of the right attributes to cure her. One day, he became so desperate that he sent word to all of his subjects that if they knew of a cure to come forth and he would shower them in riches.

Countless times members of his community would gather and speak so highly in their abilities just to gain treasures, yet every attempt had failed. Sorrow, despair, guilt. The king was washed in an anxiety as to why his beauty was chosen over him to bear such horror. In the peak of his wails, a veiled mistress enters his palace with a bed of vegetation in her wake.

“Sire,” she said, with a kneel and bowed head. “I wish to aid you in curing your queen’s illness. May I present to you the answers you pray upon.”

She proceeds to move the basket that holds her vegetation beds closer, revealing a magnificent array of flowers that glimmer as though direct sunlight still shined upon them. Each petal had it’s own brilliance, with mystic hues of blues and reds and yellows. For no flowers amongst the kingdom had been granted such splendor and awe like these at this moment.

“Why... how shall I use these fine beauties? Perhaps a sniff of their floral hands or a prick by their tough stalk?” The king was left curious but hopeful.

“A tea. Brew her a tea of these fine blooms and once warm to the touch, have her drink a whole cup in one go. Only then will she be cured.”

Image: Floral Tea (Pxhere)

The king ordered one of his kitchen staff to take the flowers and do as the mysterious woman requested. Tea brewed. Cup poured. The Queen brought in on a bed of fine silks and sturdy bamboo framing. With the temperature dropping to the adequate level as deemed by the kitchen hand, the queen drank until the very last drop had slid down her throat just as the few prior to. Within the next sunrise, she had been cured of all her ailments.

“Alas! My love has been restored. I thank you, woman, of unknown merit. I shall gift you what has been promised.” With this, the woman took her rewards and left; remaining with her were the other flowers that had not been used to make the necessary cup of life. With her absence, the king decided to have his garden workers discover the source of this bud’s healing properties and how to grow it for himself with what product he had left from the mysterious woman. What his workers came up with though was both alarming and disheartening.

“Oh, sire... This flower cannot be reproduced. It does not produce seeds. I don't even contain pollen. It’s just... here. I don’t know why and I cannot explain it, but this is no ordinary flower.”

“I don’t believe it. Witchcraft perhaps? Foreign vegetation? I need to know the source.” With this unsolved question, the king left with his best men to search high and low for the mysterious woman. Asking any townsfolk of her involvement or appearance nearby, yet always coming in shorthanded. “She must be here somewhere. Maybe on the outskirts?”

The king and his men decided then that they must look beyond the walls of the city since their luck had begun to fade within. Once out, they traveled far until reaching a familiar sight. Flowers. Beautiful flowers. Flowers with vivid auras so alluring that not even the horses being lead could leave their place after gazing on such a sight. "Here. We've done it, my friends. We've found them."

Image: Enchanted Forest (Web Source)

The sites before them were of the utmost beauty until they began to be filled with anxieties and fear like never before. Once they got closer it was as though an ominous horror had filled them. Swallowing in their sanity and coating their eyes with visions of people. People that were crying. Screaming. Cursing. Hyperventilating. These were not flowers grown from the very soul and soil that the earth had blessed upon the common, but morphism on creatures deemed sinful and unnecessary.
"My god.. these are not flora we should worship. This is flora of the devils on this earth. The evils this world wants to consume us in." The king tried to call out to his brethren only to look around and realize he had lost them amongst the cries and the bright glow.

"Oh, my king. Precious king" said a voice that had at the moment become second nature to recognize. The hooded woman had appeared again. Only this time with a sinister smile that was visible to the eyes, but nothing more. "Do you no longer yearn for my gift. My enchanted beauties you see before you? You wanted prosperity. Health. Sickness to dissipate. Life for life is what I have blessed onto you. They weren't worthy of the gift of life. Your ignorance pains me to believe that you also are fit to hold the same fate as thy before you. This enchantress may give you fuller purpose in that regard."

Image: Glowing Flowers (Wikimedia Common)

"No! No, you cannot do this. I only wanted to understand how this magic cured my beloved. I do not seek to disrespect your generosity!" The king pleaded and bowed; kissing the very feet of the witch herself. "Is it not curiosity that often causes the fall of the might?" stated the enchantress. Then with that, the fair king was changed. He now lies amongst the screaming, waiting for a wise one to one day vanquish the acts of this enchantress. Wishing that he had just lived on with his queen without mystery getting the better of him.




Bibliography:  The Arabian Nights' Entertainments by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (Un-Textbook)