Flowers on the Battlefield

Ui crumpled the letter with frustration, or was it joy?

Her eyes, which were already watering while reading, were eventually overwhelmed with tears, and some of them dampened the letter as she tried to stop her crying.

“Ui…” Cro landed in front of her, with a very unfortunate timing. She couldn’t have predicted the contents of that letter... “Are you alright, Ui?”

“Yes.” She nodded and sniffled. Even if she was crying less than while she was reading, she still couldn’t stop completely. “I am.”

“Let's finish your part.” Cro stretched his hand. Ui paused for a second before firmly grabbing it.

Cro, unlike Prishu, gently picked her up, and started flying. Unlike Prishu, he accelerated gradually, too. But Ui still didn’t like flying.

And that time, looking at the aftermath of the events she wasn’t there for, it felt even worse. How much destruction is justified for a better future?

Bourin’s letter echoed in her mind, and Ui was unable to shake off its contents. “Will everything be fine, Cro?”

“It will.” Cro didn’t flinch as he flew out of the city towards the south.

“I feel terrible… Cro.” She closed her eyes, not wanting to look at anything or think about anything anymore.

“Just do what you can, Ui.”

She nodded silently. She tried to focus on her task, and repeated the words of the Song of Healing in her mind. She had to forget about absolutely everything else.

It didn’t take long before they landed on the clearing of the forest.

◆

They were surrounded by several injured people. Some had even taken aim at Cro during the fight, too. There were forty, maybe fifty sitting around them.

“Is that it? We were all rounded up here to meet some Udari girl?” A disgruntled, injured mage protested as they landed.

Cro projected a magical barrier around them, blocking Ui from any possible danger. But Ui grabbed his shoulder and shook her head to stop him. She felt their anger clearly, but she didn’t sense anyone trying to hurt her.

“I’m sorry everyone…” She bowed her head as she addressed the crowd. “I don’t like having a forced audience… I don’t like much about our situation, either.”

The angry voices of the crowd blended into a large, angry grumbling that was hard to ignore. Ui felt their pain, their anger, and their loss all too clearly and at the same time.

“But!” Her voice resonated through the forest, quieting everyone, even if it was because they were afraid of her echoing voice. “I will still heal you.” She looked around defiantly. “This is… our home. But it can be your home too, if you’d like.” She smiled and looked around, trying to make sure everyone felt even a fraction of her feelings. “I’d really like to share this island with everyone.”

Ui considered starting the Song of Healing immediately, but she felt she wouldn’t be giving Yula enough credit, so she hesitated. The words from Bourin’s letter had also left her shaken, too. She had to do something, or say something that wasn’t her usual self.

“I hate being lectured against my will as an audience but… this song was created by someone special, not me.”

She could hear whispers among the crowd, but nothing like their aggressive behavior from before. That made her feel relieved, because she wanted everyone to listen to Yula’s story.

“Maybe you know someone like this, too.” She felt she could connect with her audience, she had to hope she could, at least. “We’re trained in songmagic since young, and those with aptitude keep working on it our whole lives.” Ui looked down. “Until our powers fade away, and then, not long after, we pass our knowledge… to the next generation.”

The crowd seemed curious about her story about the Udari, which made her smile, motivated her, and calmed her nerves.

“There are three things that affect our songmagic.

The first is the words. The words need to be carefully picked to awaken the powers that this island has.

The second one is the land. Since we draw our powers from the island, the place where we sing matters. Places that have been full of battles or even large amounts of people will make them act unpredictably.

The third one is the songmage’s feelings. A songmage stuck in the past cannot sing of progress. An unhappy songmage cannot transmit happiness.

That’s why mine have been… almost entirely destructive. I don’t know the right words, I can’t forget about the pain of the land, and… my feelings are…”

Ui shook her head, and regained her determination.

“There was a girl that helped me learn all of this when I was young, and she was even younger than I was. She buried herself in lyrics and in the history of our culture and people. She tried so, so hard, and never stopped studying...” Ui smiled, remembering Yula’s childhood with nostalgia. “To be honest, I was afraid she’d never learn anything other than our songmagic, and I was afraid she would never be able to talk to others or live a happy life.”

Ui’s heartfelt speech seemed to sadden the crowd. She believed her words were being successful, as most of them remained quiet, thinking. Even though her story was starting to pain her, her wish of everyone understanding a girl like Yula felt like it was becoming true.

“Only great songmages can write and pass on their own songs. This song that I sing today, in hopes of healing everyone, is hers…”

Ui closed her eyes, shutting off all the sights and even sounds around her briefly. She crouched, feeling the blades of early spring grass, lightly moist, on her hands and feet. She enjoyed them for a few seconds, and then stood up.

“Ul maes nouirs lus etregs,” she chanted quietly to herself.

Ui took a deep breath, reinvigorating herself with the scent of the forest, and cleared her mind.

“Surukai melonai

Uruma Tirua

Masai namelosai

Aru Aru…”

At first, the song had no effect, making Ui nervous. But she’d been there before. She didn’t stop, she couldn’t. She kept going, cycling through the song that Yula had so lovingly worked on and crafted her whole life.

She first started noticing the change under her. The sparse, early spring grass she was stepping on became denser, and soon, that same energy radiated all around her.

The response from the grass around her encouraged her to sing even louder, with all of her energy. There was no need to hold back, not anymore.

But nature wasn’t the only thing that Ui’s song would reach. Her song started being felt by the injured people around her, with some even standing up, bewildered by their sudden, almost miraculous healing. Some in the crowd started chanting the Udari lyrics, too, singing along joyfully.

“Masai namelosai

Aru Aru…”

Ui’s nerves disappeared completely, and as she rotated around, she noticed people’s wounds and anger subside as they sang with her and the island in unison.

Her energy reached beyond the people, too. The trees in the forest started becoming greener and healthier, and the bushes' colors became vibrant with fruits.

Flowers appeared all over, on the trees, in the bushes, and finally, to Ui’s joy, Aure roses started blooming in a circle around them.

At first they struggled to grow, but Ui gave every last bit of the energy that Yula had healed her with. Every flower seed, dormant on those fields, had ended up blossoming. That marked the end of her song.

The wind started sweeping through the field, and for a few seconds, that was all that could be heard. The people remained stunned. What they felt and experienced was just like what Ui had felt when Yula first sang the song for her. Ui smiled as the breeze ruffled the leaves and flowers, circling petals around the crowd.

Ui was sweating and exhausted. She had sung until her very last breath. She finally achieved what she wished for. Everything felt worth it. She looked at Cro and felt his warmth, and his company. She cried tears of joy as a mixture of petals, out of place, springing from the flowers that had helped her heal everyone, fluttered in the wind.

She held on to the last of her energy for as long as she could, having used more than she ever had before. With nothing left but her happiness, Ui passed out in Cro’s embrace.