《A Page of Petals》1.6 Led By The Nose

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Why did he lie to her?

Lokt put his gloved hand to the side of a tree, outer bark crumpling as he steadied himself.

As if anyone could just forget their Bounty.

He sighed loudly, leaning into the trunk as his head hung low. Slowly, he let his eyes close, as sweat slicken hair draped downwards, dripping beads of exhaustion onto the ground below.

That girl.

“Amora.”

Had he ever talked with a human like that before?

She had to be stupid.

No side eye glances, no provocations or screaming or running. She just sat there.

And ate with him.

Lokt chuckled weakly.

Even after he threatened her!

He smiled wider and froze. Wait.

Had he used it? Was that why she-

Lokt brought a hand up, wiping his face and combing back his hair. He stared forward. At the rows of monotonous trees ahead. And clenched his jaw.

Not a good sign. It was all getting-

Confusing.

Why was he interested in her anyway?

Lokt shook his head.

No. That was easy. There was a clear reason.

She didn't have Bounties.

He nodded to himself. That meant she was different. Unique. Of course he would be interes-

“No. No. No. Not yet.”

He’d have to do more research into her… condition first.

But that comes later. After. He had more important things to do.

Lokt looked up, mumbling as sunlight bled through the canopy above.

“Morning already?”

He bit his lip. An entire night of searching only to come up empty handed.

There was no other option. He had to find it. Find her.

He tensed his arm. Glove biting deep into trembling bark.

Well if he can't find it through normal means…

Lokt released his grip and pushed off the tree, rubbing both hands onto the outside of his cloak as he exhaled.

He really hated this part.

---

Amora woke up wet and cold.

She brought a hand to her face and rubbed sleepiness from her eyes.

It must have rained in the night. The fire had gone out some time ago and all that was left was a wet pile of dregs and wood.

She cupped her hands, blowing hot air over her nose, as she looked about.

Everything glistened in the light of the morning sun. Amora had the distinct impression she’d be frozen through if it weren't for the warmth of the white oak. She put her hands to the wet dirt ground and rolled over, shifting her weight to the side. Her damp clothes squelched audibly as she rose, clinging loosely like a second skin, her shirt stretching down to her knees.

But she paid it no mind.

It was insignificant. Unimportant.

Something had changed last night.

She’d dreamt it.

That paradisiacal garden of flowers.

She remembered stepping forward as the flowers turned, twisting their little green necks to face her. To greet her.

In crashing waves of colour.

Amora glided through them, frisson overwhelmingly intoxicating. Each one was different. Unique. Unimaginably and unattainably beautiful it physically pained her to look on. Yet she did. She couldn't help it. Couldn't help but surrender herself over completely. She brought her palm close, hovering above each of their faces as she moved - but dared not touch. To risk an end to the illusion. To that smell. That honeyed sweetness. So terrifyingly euphoric it consumed her. Shocked her.

Home.

Amora blinked and smiled to herself, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand.

Even now she could smell it-

If only in memory.

Still, something was different. Something had definitely changed. In her.

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She could feel it.

It coursed through her like electricity. Melting deep into her head, branding her and searing itself into her mind. Something different from just memory or imagination. It felt more real. A truth, outshining every memory or experience she had up until now. For a moment, she struggled against the glow. But persevering under its hot weight, pressure abated, and she could make it's foreign shape.

“Is this?”

---

Amora stood still, back against white oak, her eyes shut tight.

This must be what Lokt was talking about.

“Bounties.”

Magic. Lokt didn't explain it very well but that’s what it was right?

She stared down at her hands, flexing and unflexing them.

Well she did feel…different.

Though Amora didn't exactly know what it was. Or what it did. It just felt-

Amora brushed back strands of hair and smiled.

Magical.

“What did he say again?”

She thought back to the conversation. What did Lokt say people could do?

Fly?

That would certainly be something.

Amora looked up and pictured herself floating, arms flailing as she scaled up giant trees. Laughing, giggling as she soared past the canopy, toward sun and sky and-

Into the jaws of a giant owl.

She shuddered at her hypothetical self. Kicking and screaming as she's chewed up.

“Bird food.”

She clicked her tongue. Not a pretty picture.

Amora swung those thoughts away with a shake of her head, her already unkempt hair settling as a cobweb of brown. She blew strands of hair from her eyes and looked up again.

Like that would ever happen. She hadn't seen that owl in ages.

And who knows maybe it's a vegetarian. Maybe all those teeth were just for decoration.

Wait -hadn't she said that about the fish too?

Amora shuddered, shaking her head again, expelling the image of those voracious fish tearing into what was left of the snake.

“Soo flying. The power of flight. That would be cool.”

Amora smiled again. No more visuals. She thrust her hand outward toward the white tree and closed her eyes. Why her hand was out she had no idea, but it felt appropriate. Momentous.

She craned her neck, peering at her fingers and the palm of her outstretched hand.

Nothing.

She let her hand drop. Noisily slapping back into the side of her wet shirt.

What would even come out of her hand anyway? Air? How would that even work?

She rubbed the side of her chin sheepishly and kicked at the ground. Sending a patch of dirt flying outward. Spraying mud onto the top of her once white shoes.

“... well it was worth a try.”

If it's not flight then what could it be?

Amora folded her arms and chewed at the inside of her mouth.

She was overlooking something. She had to be.

“He said this happened to children. It can't be this hard to figure out right? Surely this is kid friendly?”

She definitely missed something.

Amora shut her eyes tightly and concentrated.

“Just think hard. Just think hard.”

Think about what exactly?

The bounty probably. That would be a good start. She strained against herself. Trying to picture something so arbitrary she had no idea how to give it form.

But she did feel it.

Not so much a burning glare as it was before. No- it was getting… dimmer. Like her body was getting used to it. Acclimating.

She strained and clasped at it. Knowledge. Power.

Perhaps even a piece of herself.

She felt light headed as she felt it spill out of her. She exhaled. Pushing out all the air from her lungs. Pushing and pushing. Shoving it all away. Everything. All her thoughts, All her senses, everything. Only what she needed stayed. Only what was necessary. Until… click.

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Only this was not an audible sound. Just merely in her head. But imagined or not, it was the sound of understanding.

Amora breathed in and opened her eyes.

What to do now?

“Well that’s obvious isn't it?”

She looked ahead into the forest and thought back to Lokt. To the flower. To those silver fish. And her dream.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Spreading and expanding into a burst of laughter. She doubled over madly as she let it pour out of her. Until she was left on the ground. Sore and hiccupping. Wiping tears from her eyes.

She just couldn't help it.

There was so much-

“Synchronicity”

---

It’s strange, describing seeing a scent. The closest thing would be seeing a trail of smoke. You can smell it. Track it with your eyes. But as the wind blows rough or the sky darkens the trail is lost. This was even subtler. Amora felt it pull her gaze. To something perceptible only to her. An invisible path that billowed and shifted with the slightest breeze.

And she knew where it led.

Amora took a step forward and frowned. She felt…Weaker. Drained. Like she’d just run- sprinted across the forest, only her muscles didn’t ache nor was she out of breath.

It was just- fatigue.

Not an unreasonable, immobilising tiredness. Just noticeable enough to give pause. Still, she felt drawn in. Felt pushed forward onto a path set out just for her. Amora collected stick and stone and let it take her. Down the familiar route. Past familiar trees and ducking under a familiar bough.

And she was there.

And it was waiting for her.

Something caught in her throat as she turned the corner. And she set eyes on it. On that beautiful clandestine sinner dressed in white. She towered over as it sat unawares. Penitently resting by the side of the mossy log.

Amora saw the invisible scent swirl. Collecting around its tiny body. And she knew what to do. Slowly, she sank to her knees, bringing her face close. She could see the wisps clearly now. They were thicker as they spiralled and coalesced into a misty veil around its centre.

“Is this what bees see?”

She closed her eyes. Careful not to touch the razor sharp petals. And took a deep breath. Welcoming in that damp sweet smell as it filled her mind. Almost euphoric. Almost. And unlike her dream, it wasn't exactly the smell that caused it. Or even the act itself. It was like finally fulfilling a craving, or scratching an itch.

A relieving ecstasy.

She opened her eyes and she could tell the effect was over. She could still see- smell the flower. But it wasn't as compelling or bewitching as it was before.

Amora looked down at her hand. At the dark circular marks on her palm. Cuts, from the night before. They had all scabbed over already, but as she flexed and poked her palm, they throbbed with the same intensity as the night before.

“So I'm a flower magnet?”

“No. No. A flower compass?”

She frowned. No, that wasn't quite right.

And it didn't sound cool. Like at all. And that was probably what really mattered.

“Hmm how about…a flower detective?”

Yeah that sounded better. Like an investigator. Purging the city one flower at a time.

Amora giggled.

Still, it was hardly flying-

But it was something new. And it was hers. Her own.

Her laugh dropped into a soft smile.

Lokt said everyone had them. The Bounties. So then it was proof.

Proof of her existence.

That Amora, the flower detective, was really here.

---

Now. How can she put this to use?

Amora wiggled her nose as she walked back the way she came. There was no invisible path of smell to follow but she knew exactly how to get back. After all, she’d walked the same route many times before it was practically instinctive.

Perhaps that's what her bounty was for.

A new form of navigation.

She stopped, suddenly.

Navigation?

Ohh. That could be fun.

She turned around, walking off in the opposite direction, up to the edge of the nearest tree. She stared past its peeling brown bark and into the dark beyond. The unknown.

Amora had time. Plenty of time for it.

For a mission. A fact finding mission. No-

A fact finding adventure.

She licked her lips with anticipation. She had Big Stick with her. And a way to navigate back. She was ready.

Her stomach grumbled in agreeance as she took a step forward. That first step back into the unknown. Back into that raging sea of risk and reward. Back into that-

Wait.

Her stomach sounded louder. Only this time Amora was sure it was not in agreement.

It weighed on her, like chains on her body, pulling her to a stop. Had that walk really taken it out of her? Or perhaps her new sense of smell really did drain her energy that quickly.

She licked her dry lips again.

Adventure…

But first-

“Fish time?”

---

She took her spear with her, leaving Sharp Rock nesting safely beside the flower.

Amora didn't relish the thought of killing anything. She gulped as she marched on, stomach lurching at the prospect. But she shoved those feelings away and steeled herself. Like last night, this was to survive. And she didn’t see any other way around it.

It wasn't long before she arrived at the stream.

She stood over it, peering into the clear water, and saw the silver fish swim about. Her eyes descended to Big Stick and she remembered her attempts at stabbing them before. If Amora wanted to eat, she needed to try something new.

And she had an idea.

She grimaced, slowly dipping her hand into the freezing waters.

Was it dangerous?

Yes.

But was it stupid?

Well … yes.

Amora waved it about in the water, fingers splashing at the surface. She pulled back quickly as one zipped to her, stabbing down with her other.

The spear met hard dirt. Impaling itself into the river bank as the fish seemed to bend around her thrust. She grunted, upheaving the stick with two hands.

Amora grumbled, staring at the wet spear in her hands and the silver shape that dodged her. She watched it swim tauntingly close as it contemptuously blew bubbles in her direction.

These damn fish.

“I didn't want it to come to this.”

But it was time to be stupider.

She walked down the stream, out of the fish's line of sight and stopped at a silverless spot downstream. She could see silver bodies floating unawares as she stuck her left hand into the freezing water. She held the spear over her hand as she waved it about. The same set up as before. Only this time…

Amora saw one rush to her almost instantly. She could see its jaw gape open as it torpedoed forward, fanning needle like teeth in edacious anticipation. She felt her arm tense but resisted the urge to pull it out. Instead, she pushed it forwards, balling her hand into a fist, and let it latch onto her.

Amora felt its teeth sink into her, and with one move, she swept her arm inward and brought the spear down. She felt a brief resistance- but there was no sound. No sickening thump or dying screech. Even the winds around her were silent. She impaled it. It thrashed widely upon the realisation, shredding her hand as it pried its teeth back in desperation. But it was done.

She looked down as her blood flowed out, mixing with the fishes' as it convulsed around the spear. The other fish across the stream stirred, propelling forward in a single argent wave as if spurred by the blood of their own.

Amora jumped back. Landing hard onto the rocky riverbank. Her spear rolled from her grip as she scampered backwards, further into the safety of the land.

She stared back quickly, clutching her hand with the other as she watched the cloud of fish disperse at the bank.

She did it!

Amora grinned proudly as she got to her feet, looking back over at the stick. At her prize. That fish impaled at the end of it. The fruit of her efforts. It had stopped thrashing now, and seemed to be completely dead.

For a second, the thought passed through her. For a second, she remembered it was alive. And now it wasn't. Because of her.

But it was only for a second.

The thought wasn't suffocating. Not so overpowering. She’d done this before. She knew it was to survive.

Did that make it right?

Amora shuddered at herself. This new apathetic outlook. This should be bad. Feel bad. Not only was this not in self defence, but she’d gone out of the way and searched them out. To be killed. It was different. It should be different.

She looked down and inspected the long deep scratches running across the back and front of her hand. The fish's teeth had ripped her skin open but it hadn't bitten deep. Amora placed a finger to it, pushing down hard as she grit her teeth.

Pain is good.

Somehow it made it realer. Feel realer. Somehow it made it okay.

She walked over and grabbed the stick, watching the blood run down the shaft and onto her hand. Blood as red as her own.

“I should- I should feel worse.”

But she didn’t.

And that scared her.

---

Amora stood still, resting against her spear as she looked out into the unknown.

“Ugh.”

She spat out a scale. Using her fingernail to remove another stuck between her teeth. She’d used the edge of the spear to get rid of most of the scales. But those that she missed … were definitely unpleasant to swallow.

The taste still lingered in her mouth. She hadn’t been able to wash it out at the river. It wasn't as gamey as the snake, but there was still an unmissable and unpleasant tang to it. Oh and it was fishy. Like super fishy.

She rolled her eyes.

Probably because it was a fish.

Amora dapped her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt. How long had she walked for? Ten minutes? Fifteen?

But after so long. She found it.

The edge.

Amora took a deep breath. A breath of unsweetened fresh air. And nodded.

This is as far as it went. As far as her sense of smell could take her.

She walked along the range of her ability, edging around with her stick. A crude line in the half snowed ground. Still, it was so strange. And Amora was once again reminded how unusual this sense of smell really was. Yes, it was for flowers. But that aside, ordinary smell had a gradual decline the further you walked, until eventually: nullity. But this was different. There was a clear and steep drop off in her sense of smell. And that left her with this.

Amora looked out, past the long, repeating line of trees and into the veil of dark beyond. It called to her. She walked around the circumference of the ability. The exact range of it, as dragged her stick behind her. She tried to remember her surroundings as she weaved past, but it was hard. With each tree being endlessly indistinguishable from the last.

She’d need to use her nose to get back. But that only worked if she was in this range.

But past that?

She stabbed the sharp end of Big Stick into a nearby tree, outer bark barely splitting open, even under her full weight. Amora sighed. It wasn't anywhere as clear or deep as when she’d used Sharp Rock. But it would have to do.

She turned back around. And with her own personal brand safely clawed into the tree behind her, she picked a direction.

“A for Amora.”

A for adventure.

---

It pulled her in.

Her mind flooded with the foreign scent, the sudden input disorientating her. It didn't take long for her to take back control of her senses. And as she looked up, a billowing path unveiled itself. Spilling out past the trees ahead of her.

It was the same as before… only different?

Amora smiled. Either way, it smelled like-

Adventure.

She trudged through the snow excitedly, alongside the invisible trail, barely registering the increasing lack of light.

It wasn't long until she found it.

A single speck of yellow in a sea of white. The trail swirled around its tiny body. It was noticeably thinner- weaker than the veil that hung around the white flower.

“Cause of the size?”

The flower was barely the size of a finger. It was growing out of the base of a tree, stem completely submerged in snow. Amora squatted over it, brushing white away gently. She put her hand on the base of the flower and felt its soft, furry stem tremble against her fingers. Slowly, she brought her nose to the plant, sniffing long and deep. Amora could barely smell the flower itself- only the smell of wet bark. But it was no less satisfying.

This is what she came for.

Amora bent closer and smiled, letting her knee drop-

And fell forward. She caught herself quickly, steadying herself with the trunk of the tree.

Amora looked down and frowned as she put her hand to the ground. Why did it feel so weird? She dropped her spear and dipped her other hand in, scooping snow and flinging it behind her. Oh it's just-

She stood up, inspecting a circular hole in the ground beside her.

Just a hole.

Amora sighed, wiping her wet hands off with the side of her shirt.

“Wow I’m so paranoid.”

That can't be healthy.

She scoffed at herself and bent to pick up her spear- and paused.

Wait.

She looked at the way the spear landed. That awkward way it half sunk into the ground. The snow looked… off. Uneven.

She grabbed the spear and swept it away with her shoe.

Another hole.

Amora looked back at the yellow flower. At the blanket of snow around her.

She was surrounded by them. Holes in the ground. The snow could hardly cover them- hide them. Each as large as her hand.

“Just a hole.”

“Multiple holes.”

“Nothing really to be afraid of.”

So then why was this so familiar?

Amora brought a cold hand up to her neck.

This panic.

She spun as something snapped behind her. Eyes narrowing at the dark silhouettes behind the treeline. Something was… watching her.

And what was that?

She stared at the ground behind the nearest tree.

Is that a tree? A tree laying on its side?

It wasn't so far from her. So why didn't she notice it before?

No- of course she did. That wasn't something anyone could miss.

She just didn't care enough to think about it.

Amora jumped as a loud snapping noise came out from behind the tree. It sounded closer now. She swallowed and raised her spear, gripping it so tight her hands turned white. Suddenly she remembered she was alone.

And the forest grew cold.

That's when she heard it speak.

“You found me.”

Amora grabbed her throat as the scratching, grating voice sounded from the dark.

Unnatural.

“Who are you? Child that seeks me out. What is your name?”

Each word stretched out slow, and hung with a serrated tone, dripping with enmity as it cut into her. She felt like screaming. Crying. That sound alone could maim her so. But she couldn't. Fear petrified her. Silenced her.

Amora grabbed at her throat tighter as she edged backward, struggling to choke panic from her neck as she opened her mouth to reply. But no words came. Not a single sound. This was different than that thumping bear. Different than the owl. This thing was intelligent.

“Come closer little human.”

Something shuffled behind the tree. She brought a hand to her nose as a nauseating acrid odour hung over her.

And it crawled out.

“Come. Collect your prize.”

Amora looked up.

And saw it.

Eight black eyes.

Panic overrun.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck. There was no controlling it. She spun around. Thoughts melting. She had to get away. She had to run. She just had to- She looked back. And the world swelled.

Amora launched from her feet. Diving to the yellow flower. Slamming into the trunk. That didn't slow her. She snatched it from the ground.

Run.

Survive.

Run.

Laughter filled the air as bile bubbled up her throat.

She scrambled to her feet.

“Leaving so soon?”

She looked back-

And with a flower in one hand and a spear in the other-

She fled.

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