A Courtyard of Roses

A WOLF HOWLED in the distance, the sound echoing through the thick foliage of trees. The blanket of darkness that hung above the skies grew heavier, ridden with storm clouds that sparkled with dazzling electricity. Every second or so, a line of pure white shot through the heavens, jumping from one cloud to another before disappearing in a rumble of thunder.

Rain was about to fall.

Alice could smell the drops of summer rain before it even hit the earth beneath her. Even deep in the heart of the city, it was the very same as in the wilderness beyond. Skyscrapers could not hide the scent of moist soil and dewy leaves, much less a forest.

When an exceptionally loud rumble of thunder took over the skies above her head, the drops of water began to descend. First, it landed on the crown of Alice’s head in a light drizzle. It sprinkled over her like the first snow of winter, fresh and lightly powdered. Then, in a matter of moments, it hastened into a torrential shower. The rain poured down mercilessly, drenching Alice from head to toe. It forced her loose cotton shirt to stubbornly cling onto every crevice of her body, her shorts following suit.

Even the summer rain could prove itself freezing cold.

With hands wrapped around her body, Alice forced herself to run. Where to, in particular, she wasn’t too sure herself. All she knew was that she was left stranded in the forest during an innocent camping trip gone wrong. The map provided to her had nearly led her off the edge of a cliff, sending the very same piece of paper down to the void below. Ever since then, Alice had been walking blind.

She should’ve known better. After all, she had tagged along on a camping trip with her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. Since he had been a dear friend of hers, and he insisted so, she had agreed to his ridiculous camping request.

In the end, Alice was still a woman. She could still sense the poisonous envy that leaked off of his new partner. Yet, she forced herself to act clueless, going along with all his whims and insane requests.

Served her right. Now she was the one lost in the forest, wandering around in hopes of finding an empty cave she could use as a shelter until morning comes.

The mud beneath the soles of her sneakers squealed loudly, the sound uncomfortable and revolting to her ears. However, there was nothing she could do but soldier on. The rain wasn’t about to stop for anyone soon and that was something Alice was infinitely clear of. Nature could be unforgiving at times.

She had wandered around the forest for nearly three hours — although it certainly felt like years — when she finally noticed a glimmer of hope. Another flash of lightning hit the skies, illuminating the scene before her. She had struck gold for a solid cottage stood hidden beneath the canopy of trees, sheltered by strong branches and thick, lusciously green leaves. The lights were put out and it didn’t seem like anyone was home and yet it didn’t look abandoned.

What was an old-fashioned cottage doing in the middle of her town’s notoriously dangerous forest, Alice wasn’t sure. However, that didn’t stop her to quicken her speed, bitterly biting down on the painful welts of rain towards the cottage that would prove useful.

It was only when she neared the wooden door had she looked down to realize an old woman that laid on the soil. She was lying face-down, her belly deep in the mud and skin ghastly pale. The rain pelted down on her body yet she had no reaction. It was as if she was a dead body waiting to rot away with time.

Or at least, Alice would’ve thought so if she hadn’t caught the subtle twitch of the old woman’s fingers. She was definitely still alive, still breathing, if only barely.

Alice wasted no time and dropped down to the ground, heaving the old woman up as best as she could. The rain washed away any remnants of soil off of the elderly’s face once she was lifted. In the darkness, Alice couldn’t make out any features but she knew the woman couldn’t possibly be of any harm.

A hand on the doorknob, Alice forced the door open, ready to put all her body weight into knocking the plank of wood down only to find it was unlocked the entire time. Gently, she then carried the old woman into the shelter, shutting the door behind her once she had heaved the woman onto the floral couch by the door.

Her old body landed with a thud on the creaky old mattress. A jet of air sprung from the cushions when the weight was added, puffing up into Alice’s face. Spying a loose piece of decorative cloth draped over the couch’s backrest, Alice picked it up before draping it over the old woman’s body. It covered her just enough, the ends tucked right under her chin and over her ankles respectively.

Grateful for the weight off her shoulders, the teenager dropped to the armchair adjacent to the couch, flopping over in a pile of languid bones as she sighed out loud.

Outside, the rain only grew heavier. Raindrops hailed from the sky, thudding against the glass panels in a rhythmic melody. Every few seconds, thunder rumbled to break that pattern, sending a shiver crawling through Alice’s skin.

Unable to tolerate the dark and cold any further, her eyes zeroed in on the fireplace that sat a few feet away from her. Firewood rested right by it, fresh and ready to use. In the hearth was a pile of ashes, its ambers long burned out.

It wasn’t difficult to add a few more logs into the fireplace before starting the fire with a box of matchsticks found on the ledge above. The fire was crackling within seconds, sparking with life and dancing in the dark.

Alice hovered her hands right next to the fire, the red of the flames reflected in her eyes. She itched to touch the flame, to engulf it whole, but her sanity forced her a little back every time she moved too close. Too relieved by the warmth, Alice ignored the cinders that fluttered away from the flame and onto her face and clothing.

When all the excitement blew over, Alice was left with a body cold and sore, achingly tired from trekking through the woods for so long a time. With a yawn, her eyelids grew heavy. It threatened to shut, her body slowly easing its way onto the wooden floor.

In the end, Alice lost the internal battle and gave way to sleep. She first recognized the darkness, and then, nothing.

Alice woke up to the smell of potatoes, a hearty and thick aroma wafting through the air. There was also a hint of garlic butter, enticing her to snap awake from her dreams. She couldn’t remember what she was dreaming about in particular. Hence, it was much easier to part herself from the world of dreams and back to reality.

As she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, her vision started to clear. The old woman stood in the weathered kitchen, stirring a small pot with vigor as she hummed an eccentric folk song, hips swaying from side to side in tune with the beat. Steam rose from the pot she was working on, a tray of herbs and vegetables sitting right beside the stove. In the silence of the cottage, Alice could even hear the roar of the stove’s fire and the bubbling of the pot’s contents.

Silence?

She glanced towards the windows, surprised and glad to see that the rain had ceased. The glass panes were still covered by mist, a dewy layer of water that separated the outside world from the comfortable warmth she was in. Even the fire beside her had died, left with nothing but ash.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Alice spun her head in the direction of the voice only to see the old woman smiling gently at her. Her hand that gripped the wooden spoon halted, unmoving.

“Take a seat on the couch, darling, the floor must’ve been freezing. The food’s almost done.” Once she was done with her instructions, she returned to her song, mixing at the bubbling soup.

Obediently, Alice climbed onto her feet and shuffled to the couch. She sank into the cushions, her hands rested on her lap as she stared in the direction of the kitchen. The elderly woman that seemed on the brink of death just mere hours ago was now on her feet, energetically stirring at a pot of soup, cheeks pink with health.

It was like magic.

“Are you alright, darling? You look rather pale.”

The old woman’s voice cracked Alice out of her little daydream, forcing her to focus her vision on the face placed so near her own. Visible wrinkles lined the elderly woman’s forehead, skin creased with worry.

“Yes…” Alice nodded, a little unsure. Her hands instinctively rose to her cheeks, cradling them between her fingers. She hadn’t realized that her body temperature had plummeted until she felt her own freezing skin. “Yes, I’m okay.”

Seemingly unsatisfied with her response, the old woman frowned. She leaned back, a hand rested on the curve of her hip as she thrust a bowl Alice’s way.

“It must be hard to endure the cold rain alone in the middle of the forest. Drink up, dear. You’ll feel better.”

The warm ceramic bowl felt a little too hot Alice’s hands. It thrummed with heat, steam billowing from the creamy soup inside. Placed so closely to her face, she could smell the fragrant spices from the mix, all meant to complement the hearty potato and leek delight.

Gingerly picking up the spoon, Alice scooped a spoonful past her lips, pressing them tightly against the wood. When the first wave of savory flavors hit her, Alice thought she could see stars from how delectable it was. She finished the bowl before she had even realized how hungry she truly was, stomach warm and full and bowl licked clean.

“Have some tea, darling.” The elderly woman swiftly plucked the bowl from Alice’s hands, exchanging it with a mug of hot tea. “Soothing for the body,” she explained.

Again, Alice took the cup wordlessly, blindly trusting to whatever consumable she had been handed. Yet, she didn’t bring it up to her lips. Not until the woman sat down right beside her, the couch dipping with her weight.

“Thank you,” Alice croaked, her throat still a little hoarse from her sleep. “The soup was delicious.”

The elderly woman beamed, waving Alice’s words off.

“Oh, there’s no need to thank me, dearest. In fact, I should be the one expressing my gratitude. You did save my life last night.”

“There’s no need for that,” Alice said immediately. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better after a good night’s rest. These old bones just needed a break. And I insist. In fact, what is it that you most desire? I’ll like to repay you for your kindness.”

“What is it that I most desire?”

That made her scrunch up her eyebrows. She hadn’t thought of a reward when she picked the old woman up last night. After all, it was only because she was seeking shelter in the cottage had she chanced upon the unconscious elderly. If there was anything to be repaid, a roof over her head and some food in her stomach were already enough as compensation.

The question, however, was enough to put an image in Alice’s mind. The mere thought of it made her smile, a simple fantasy that she kept secret for the longest time.

“What I want can’t be found in this world. So it’s quite alright, the delicious meal was more than enough.”

Despite her answer, the elderly woman smiled rather cryptically. The corners of her lips curled up knowingly, nodding a few times in understanding before she grasped Alice’s hands in her own.

Patting the back of the youngster’s hand, she said, “I’ll be right back. I might have just the thing for you.”

Then, she stood up, tottering over to the fireplace just to rummage through the assortment of trinkets that decorated it. When she found what she was looking for, she shuffled back, placing the small item in Alice’s hands.

“A small scented candle to help you sleep better at night. I realized you were tossing and turning a little too much in your sleep,” she explained.

The candle was a pale lilac in color, the wax kept in a clear glass jar, holding a single wick upright. There were no labels, no markings, seemingly implying that the candle was homemade rather than bought. It was no bigger than the size of her palm, definitely small enough to sit on her bedside table.

It was a beautiful, simple, and elegant addition of decoration to her bedroom. Furthermore, the old woman’s words brought a flash of visions into Alice’s mind. She seemed to recall dreams of people she had never met, all with insanely beautiful features and distinctively colored hair. However, while she remembered them to be beautiful, she couldn’t fully picture their faces. They had no identity, no name that might help solve the puzzle of who they were. And best of all, Alice always felt wildly distressed whenever she awoke from dreams where they starred in.

“Thank you.” She dipped her head a little in gratitude, offering the kind old lady a smile that matched.

“You’re very welcome, dear. I hope you’ll have beautiful dreams with this.”