Information

Relique
Legacy Name: Relique

The Glade Kumos
Owner: Nostalgic

Age: 12 years, 8 months, 1 week

Born: August 14th, 2011

Adopted: 11 years, 4 months, 4 days ago

Adopted: December 22nd, 2012

Pet Spotlight Winner
March 1st, 2014

Statistics

• Level: 13
   
• Strength: 30
   
• Defense: 30
   
• Speed: 30
   
• Health: 30
   
• HP: 30/30
   
• Intelligence: 0
   
• Books Read: 0
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Refreshment Concierge

information

Her pale blue tail swishing behind her, Relique stared at the robin perched on the rock three feet in front of her. Her claws scratching the mud, giving her greater purchase as she narrowed her eyes, waiting for the perfect moment. The bird turned its back, trilling softly, perhaps calling to its mate. Relique wriggled her shoulders, pressed the pads of her paws deeper into the ground and pounced, leaping through the air to capture...the rock.

Relique huffed out a breath as she looked at the bird perched five feet away, tweeting merrily. Softly laughing, Relique shook her head and turned away. She had no intention of hurting the poor bird. She just loved to play. She turned back to look at the robin and frowned when she saw it had gone. Slowly she turned back to continue her walk away and find someone else to play with.

She gasped in fright as the robin landed directly on her nose, looking smug. Unable to stop herself, Relique flopped onto her side, laughing and giggling. She had just been pounced by a robin. The very notion made her hysterical, laughing until she was crying and almost unable to breathe.

The robin, joined now by his mate, watched until the amusement had subsided and then chirruped to his mate. Relique watched inquisitively as the two birds flew three feet away and then back to her and then four feet away and then back again. It was like they were telling her to follow.

Relique got up slowly, padding forward as the birds flew, leading her to the opposite side of the garden. They landed on a flowerbed, overgrown with foxgloves and forget-me-nots and, as she approached, the female robin flew deep into the thick knots of the forget-me-not and sang loudly, calling to the two on the outside.

Gently, so as not to damage the flowers or to startle the robin, Relique reached inside the bush and pulled the knots aside, startled when her paw hit something cold and hard. She carefully gripped the metal and slowly pulled it out. She opened her paw and stared down at what she was holding. It was a key, slightly rusted but still shiny, the metalwork obviously old and intricate with a vine scroll-work at the top. Relique looked at the robins, her head tilted to one side inquisitively as she wondered what the key went to.

The robins started their game again, flying ahead of her and back to her. Quicker off the mark this time, she followed them, carrying the key in her mouth and running as fast as she could to keep up with them.

The gate at the bottom of the main garden was open but overgrown with brambles and nettles. The robins flew through the gate and returned to her several times before they realized that she was scared of getting scratched and stung. The birds started to sing loudly, calling to the other birds of the garden. Wrens, blue jays, sparrows...even a particularly large and angry sounding crow answered their call, landing on the brambles and nettles, holding them back, pushing them flat so that Relique could tentatively and slowly make her way to the garden gate.

Almost immediately she reached the gate, the larger birds took off, stranding her in the gap between the brambles and the gate. She had no way to go but into the next garden. Still carrying the key in her mouth she waited for the robins to lead the way and slowly padded after them, unsure where they were taking her, feeling very nervous as she pushed her way through the dark forbidding bush surrounding the gate.

The garden on the other side almost stole her breath as her jaw dropped. She barely felt the key drop to the ground and bounce slightly to hit her paw. It was so beautiful. The flowers were stunning; primroses bloomed beside dahlias, rhododendron bushes flowered beside honeysuckle, lilies and lavender grew side by side, whites and purples and pinks and reds and yellows and blues clashed, a bright rainbow of color, more amazing than any painting she had ever seen.

And right in the center of the garden, a fountain bubbled, the sun sparkling off the droplets through the leaves of the willow tree that grew on the bank of the man made pond that the fountain sat in the center of.

The birds circled above Relique, finally catching her attention as her gaze left the flowers. She bent down and picked the key up in her mouth as the robins flew towards the willow tree, disappearing under its branches. Relique followed, knowing that this whole journey had been leading up to this.

She entered the space between the branches and the trunk of the tree in reverent silent, her eyes wide as she spotted the wooden chest that the robins were sitting on. The lock of the chest, old like the key she held in her mouth, had the same vine-like scroll-work around it. The chest itself was plain but for the lock and the supporting straps of metal vines. As she approached it, the chest seemed to glow faintly blue and Relique stopped still, nervous and confused.

The robins moved off the lid of the chest and sang gently, encouraging her to move forwards, the glow still evident but faint. She slid the key into the lock and paused as the glow seemed brighter. Relique felt a strange warmth as she touched the chest for better leverage, turning the key slowly as it was stiff and rusty from lack of use and exposure to the elements.

Relique closed her eyes against the blue light which seemed painfully bright as she nudged the lid open. Even through her closed lids she saw the glow subside and die out. She slowly opened her eyes, wary of the light again. She looked down into the chest and frowned. This was no treasure. It was just an old book and a bag of bird food. She huffed slightly and took the bag out of the chest, ready to bite it and share it with her robin friends. Ready that is, until she looked more closely at the name on the front of the book.

"The Book of The Rose Fairy" was printed elaborately in shiny red foil on the otherwise fairly plain book. Gently, Relique knocked the chest over, tipping it forward so that the book fell out. She opened the front cover and stared at the first page.

Whosoever reads from this book and finds these seeds shall indeed be blessed. If the seeds shall flower and the roses shall bloom, the soul is pure and the heart is honest. And the blessings of the Rose Fairy and all her sisters shall fall unto thee.

Relique had always loved roses. And she had noticed that, though there were Gerbera daisies and Daffodils and Chrysanthemums and all manner of beautiful flowers in the garden, not a single rose bush bloomed. She carefully placed the bag of seeds back into the chest and headed for the area of the garden that had a bare flowerbed.

Quietly she started to dig, turning the soil and loosening the compacted earth. She dug for hours, until the sun dipped below the horizon and she could no longer see where she was digging. Her legs and back ached and she almost groaned aloud as she slowly returned to the shelter of the Willow Tree, curled herself around the chest and drifted off to sleep.

As the sun arose, Relique stretched lazily and groaned. Her body ached from digging and running the day before. She yearned to go back to sleep, just for a few more hours but she looked into the chest and saw The Book of the Rose Fairy once more and, with renewed vigor, she headed back towards the plot of land she had begun loosening the day before.

She dug for hours, ploughing the land into deep furrows so she could plant more seeds. The sun rose higher, burning down onto her back, making her sweat, panting to cool down. She walked to the fountain when it got too much and gently lapped at the water, only sipping enough to sustain her but not enough to leave the pond wanting. At the heat of midday, when she could no longer bear the burning sun, she rested briefly in the shade of the willow tree, reading more of the book in order to get tips on how to grow the Vesnali Roses.

As the sun started to sink again and the breeze cut through the unbearable heat, Relique bit a small hole in the bottom of the bag of rose seeds and walked the furrows of the plot of land, the seeds falling out at regular intervals until every last seed was in place. In a stroke of genius, Relique once more tipped the chest on its side, removing the book and, carefully so as not to break it, she lifted the chest by its lid and dipped it into the pond.

The chest filled with water and she walked to the first furrow, carefully watering the seeds while her tail brushed the earth over the seeds, protecting them in a bid to sustain them. Four times she returned to the pond, carefully preserving the seeds each time.

That night Relique slept outside the willow tree, as close as she could to the flowerbed. Perhaps if she had woken up at midnight she would have watched the chest glow blue. Perhaps if she had woken at all that night she would have seen the answering glow from the seeds. If she had considered it at the time, she might even have stayed awake all night just to see.

When you fill a magical chest with water, some of the magic seeps in. The water Relique had used contained traces of magic from the chest. When Relique awoke the next morning she couldn't believe her eyes.

Pink roses, yellow roses, red and orange and white roses...a multitude of colors grew everywhere on the plot she had dug only two days before.

Calling for her robin friends, Relique couldn't help but dance in amongst the roses, so very happy. But as she danced she noticed something. Her coat, which she usually kept pristine, was dusty and dirty. Her nails were almost black with mud. She was utterly filthy.

Half ashamed she looked to the pond. Perhaps the water, so cool and clear, would not only clean the mud off but also soothe her still aching joints after two days of intense physical exertion. She nudged the water with her nose, testing the temperature. Slowly, letting the water lap over her inch by inch, Relique walked into the pond.

Maybe if she had looked towards the flowerbed she would have seen the chest glow. Maybe if she hadn't closed her eyes she would have seen the roses answer. And maybe if she hadn't submerged herself completely to relax she would have watched the water echo that luminescent blue.

Whenever a magical object touches water, it leaves an imprint, a magical mark. Relique stepped out of the water, feeling cool and clean, and looked at her paws.

Funny...in this light they looked green, not blue. She turned to look at her tail. Funny, her eyes were playing tricks. Her tail looked green too. She looked down at the water and gaped. The magic of the water had turned Relique into a Glade Kumos.

... And the blessings of the Rose Fairy and all her sisters shall fall unto thee...



CREDITS

profile template (c): helix (get it)
background: colourlovers site
overlay: Folara
story: Baa.

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