Intuicut, by Flenz

“Welcome to ‘Intuicut, by Flenz! Leave your worries at the door, stimulate positive vibes, happy auras beget exquisite style and your aura today is quite…”

She was going to say ‘violet’, which was not the calmest colour for an aura, but then the Fernalian Princess with the ivy-covered, bark-like skin and impressive head of thorny, blossom-filled foliage thrust the hat she’d removed at her chest, cutting her off.

“Loni, are you sure this is a good idea?” said the tree-being in the gossamer dress, speaking to the mushroom-like female in the smart-looking business attire who was squirming through the salon door behind her. “Maybe we should wait until Basalta and have an Obelisk do it.”

“We won’t have time, Princess,” the Shroom replied, grimacing beneath her puffy, domed head. “Our schedule’s too tight, we’ll barely have time to get changed.”

“Bracken,” cursed the Princess, whose name was Gelsemium, turning her attention to the sole other occupant of the salon. “Well, let’s get on with it then. And who might you be? You have eyes, three in fact, even if one is poorly concealed behind those gelatinous tendril bangs, and you can clearly see, so you can’t be the famous blind coiffeur.”

“I’m not,” the turquoise-skinned Aurian with the gelatinous tendril bangs replied, flustered having been interrupted mid-welcome. Self consciously, she brushed at her fringe to better conceal her third eye–the one that had revealed the colour of the vapours swirling around the Royal–as she let it fall shut. “I’m Laura, his granddaughter. I help run the salon. I take the bookings, maintain the tools and…”

“Oh my ferns, is that a Dragon Fiscus?” 

Gelsemium cut her off again and darted forward, vines from her body whipping in the air as she hurried to the large, potted succulent Laura had placed in the salon that morning.  

“Um, yes,” said Laura, looking to Loni–who she knew as Lonicera, the Princess’ aide who’d made the appointment two days before, at the Royal’s request–and accepting the nod she received as acknowledgement of a job well done. “It’s your favourite succulent, isn’t it?”

“Well, I’ve admired it in pictures and it’s certainly beautiful, but it doesn’t grow on Fernalia so I can’t say that. Isn’t it native to Holister? Oh, look at the feathery petals on its flower! Is it true the flowerhead comes alive when thirsty? I’ve seen videos showing it leaving its stem, but you never know these days what’s real and what isn’t.” 

“I think so,” said Laura, briefly flicking her now better hidden third eye open to see the Princess’ aura had softened from violet to purple. “But I’ve never seen it happen myself.”

The softening of the Princess’ aura gave her the confidence to exchange the hat for the tray she’d left ready at reception, once again looking to Lonicera for approval. The pudgy Shroom, who had seated herself on a couch inside the door, a large carryall on her lap, drew a smile onto her puckered, grey lips and nodded. 

She seemed tired, Laura thought, but that was to be expected. Aide to a Princess of the Fernalian Kingdom had to be a stressful position, especially today, when she was accompanying her Highness to Basalta for her wedding to Prince Onyx Glade, just the two of them travelling quietly to avoid media fuss.

“You seem anxious,” Laura told Gelsemium, approaching her with the goblet of liquid on the tray. The Princess was caressing the petals of the Fiscus’ single red and yellow flowerhead with a leafy finger. Laura took the goblet from the tray and held it towards her. “I can help with that. My job is to make sure our visitors have everything they need to make their experience at Intuicut a pleasant one. Sempersap?”

“Sempersap?” Gelsemium repeated, turning from the Fiscus to take the drink. “Well, I do like a nice glass of sap. Don’t think I’ve ever tried Sempersap. Again, that’s a Holister thing. Vespersap is another story. Loni’s been keeping me well juiced with that on our journey so far. Fern knows I need it. Did she tell you? I’m on my way to get married!”

“She mentioned it,” Laura said. “That’s why you’re here, of course. So you can dazzle at the wedding with a one-of-a-kind ‘Flenz Aurian’ cut. Grandfather will make sure it’s exceptional, while I perform my unique function. But first, let’s set the mood with…”

She paused, and while Gelsemium lifted the goblet to her lips and took a sip of the sweet, alcoholic beverage made from the sap of the Semper tree, she fished a remote control device from the pocket of her smock and pressed some buttons.

“Light,” she said, and the lights in the salon turned vermillion green. 

“Sound,” she said, and the speakers in the ceiling emitted the sound of soothing rain.

“Vision,” she said, and the wall-length video screens on all four sides of the salon displayed a tranquil forest scene.

“I’m impressed,” said the Princess, sipping her drink as she made her way to a chair and sat down. Laura took another quick peek and saw the Fernalian’s aura now glowed lilac. “My favourite sights and sounds. But, of course, Loni told you all these things. I can see you follow instructions well and are a highly efficient organiser, but it’s hardly what you’d call a ‘unique function’.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Laura said, placing tray and remote on the worktop next to the chair. “What I do is very important. In order for Flenz to deliver the service his clients demand, not to mention a successful styling, I ensure that…”

“My clients are calm, relaxed and at peace,” a new voice said, the voice of her azure-skinned grandfather as he left the staff room at the back of the shop, shuffling towards the chair and the seated Princess. “A vital component of my work, which is guided by the delicate vibrations in one’s aura and the energies it feeds into the atmosphere. Greetings, Princess Gelsemium. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance and will be even more of a pleasure to adorn your resplendent features with an appropriate cut.”

“Flenz Aurian!” the Princess gushed, spinning her chair. “How amazing to meet you! Oh my Ferns, you really don’t have eyes. Born without them, Loni tells me, and yet you became a renowned master stylist. An incredible story, if a little…worrying. I really wasn’t sure when Loni suggested this, especially for such an important occasion, but having read the testimonials of the celebrities you cut for, well, here I am, ready to take that risk.”

“No risk at all, your Highness,” said Flenz, with a smile, as he stood next to the chair and placed both hands on its headrest. “As long as you close your eyes, think happy thoughts and let Laura massage your aura, you’ll leave with the do of your life.”

“Massage my what?” Gelsemium said, downing her Sempersap while Flenz spun the chair back around. Laura had dropped to her knees and was parting her fleshy bangs when the Princess put her goblet down and looked at her. “I hope that’s not something rude.”

“Sit back,” Laura simply said, opening her third eye fully, looking the Princess’ aura up and down. It had lightened more now to lavender, a pleasing colour creating a stress-free vibe for her grandfather to work with…but still not stress-free enough. “Relax and let me in.”

Within the lavender mist floated blobs of a darker shade, the same deep violet she’d entered the shop with. This was normal, and was where Laura’s real work lay. It was these troublesome patches, pockets of anxiety within the aura, that could affect the quality of Flenz’s work, and were what stood between a good cut and a bad. As today’s customer was no less than a Royal of a powerful nation, en route to marry a Royal of an even more powerful nation, upsetting her with a subpar cut was not an option. With her power and influence, Princess Gelsemium could easily put Flenz out of business, and that was something Laura could not allow.

Flenz, as ever, wasn’t wasting time and was already letting his wiry fingers run across the various combs and cutting tools Laura had laid out for him on the worktop, all carefully selected to match the requirements of the client, freshly sharpened pruning snips, gleaming silver secateurs and miniature shears. Cutting a Fernalian’s hair was more like topiary, not something Flenz had experience with, but that didn’t matter, it was all intuitive to him. What did matter was that Laura erased the negative energies from her aura before they made him cut something he shouldn’t, and with that in mind she got busy, sliding her fingers into the vapours surrounding the Princess.

She started at the bottom, closing her hands around the blotch of violet haze between Gelsemium’s ankles. On the opposite side of the chair, Flenz had selected a metal-pronged comb and the smallest pair of snips and was separating thorn-covered stems and clumps of moss from emerald leaves and colourful blossoms, which opened and closed rhythmically as he breathed upon them.

“That tickles,” said Gelsemium, though whether she was referring to the hands around the blotch in her aura or Flenz as he worked his instruments through her foliage, Laura didn’t know. She was concentrating on absorbing the tension into her palms, releasing the Princess from the stress it caused. As she did, her mind’s eye saw what it was comprised of–anxiety surrounding the wedding, lack of confidence in herself as future bride of the Prince of the Obelisks, worry that she wouldn’t be good enough and her cousin Clemantro, who’d also vied for Glade’s hand, would have been a better choice. 

Laura accepted the tension, removing it from Gelsemium’s aura as Flenz started to cut, the shears clipping together above the Princess’ head, severing a string of spiky thorns. And then he was off, his hands moving at speed around the Fernalian’s head as he combed, snipped, brushed and chopped, scraping his hands on thorns as he went, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain. He was in the zone, engrossed already, so Laura wasn’t surprised to see a red flowerhead fly through the air as she closed her hands around another blotch.

Behind her, Lonicera gasped.

“It’s okay,” Laura said. “The end result is the only thing that matters.”

She sensed Gelsemium’s fear of embarrassing herself with her groom’s family by not being as clever as Clemantro, took a deep breath, absorbed it.

Snip.

Another flower dropped from the Princess’ head. Laura frowned. Gelsemium’s aura was practically pink now so Flenz should be feeling at ease. Looking at his face though, she could see a wrinkle in his brow. That wasn’t right. She re-focused her attention on the Fernalian’s aura, located another dark patch, caught it in her hands, sucked it in.

Self-doubt, had Onyx made a mistake, had there been some miscommunication, would Clemantro be in her place when she got to the altar?

Snip.

Flowerhead.

Louder gasp from Loni behind.

“It’s okay,” Laura said again, though a quick glance up showed it wasn’t. Flenz’s wrinkle had deepened, sweat laced his brow, something was throwing him off but Gelsemium’s aura was almost clear. “The process isn’t pretty but the end result will…”

“Not that,” Loni said. “The Fiscus.”

The Fiscus? Laura thought, cringing as snip! another flowerhead fell to the floor. She swung her hands up to cup the final blotch in Gelsemium’s aura, one pulsating beside her head, before turning to look at the succulent.

“Oh,” she said, eyes drawn to the Fiscus’ single flower, now no longer attached to the plant, instead flapping its petals like wings above it, having unexpectedly detached from its stem. “Why is it doing that?”

“Is it true the flowerhead comes alive when thirsty?”

As she concentrated on absorbing the last bit of tension; as the Princess’ fears of a haircut by a blind stylist going badly wrong filled her mind; as Flenz exchanged snippers for secateurs and Gelsemium started to snore and Loni rose to her feet; the Fiscus Flowerhead fluttered across the room, coming to circle the Princess’ head. 

Something’s not right, Laura thought. The Fiscus, which wasn’t Gelsemium’s favourite plant. The Sempersap, which she’d never tasted. The appointment, which hadn’t been her idea. Flenz was distracted and cutting badly, but the aura he was working with was clean, which meant something else was affecting the air, and that something could only be… 

“No, I can’t do it, stop!”

Before she could turn to examine Loni’s aura, the Princess’ aide darted forward, swinging her handbag at the bobbing Fiscus Fly and bumping against Laura’s back. Like a spotlight shone directly in her eyes, a smog-like mist washed over her, closing around her like a fist, filling her with nauseating anxiety and flooding her mind with disquieting images:

Lonicera, crying, upset. Gelsemium–no, not Gelsemium, another Fernalian, Clemantro of the less verdant foliage, towering over her, threatening. Lonicera, worried about her secrets being revealed, secrets from her past, from before she came to work for the Royals, things she’d done to get ahead that she wasn’t proud of, that might cost her her position as a respectable Princess’ aide and have her expelled from the family. She couldn’t bear it. But the only way to prevent it was to do what Gelsemium’s cousin asked. 

“She can’t marry, Onyx. I should have been his first choice. But second is fine, as long as she doesn’t turn up. I need you to way-lay her, Loni. You have to delay her so I can take her place and your secrets can stay hidden. I’ll even tell you how to do it.”

And she had. Vespersap mixed with Sempersap, a sickly sweet combination, in the presence of a Dragon Fiscus, arousing the succulent’s flower, making it fly, probe, suck, its own secretions mixing with the Sempervespersap to cause an allergic reaction in the Fernalian’s gut. Poisoned. Not fatal. Debilitating. A flight missing, wedding skipping delay. All Loni had to do was find a reason to stopover on Holister.

And she had.

Clemantro! Laura thought, fury rising in her chest as she gagged on the noxious fumes of Loni’s aura, an aura corrupted by fear, self-loathing and regret. You’re a bully and a cheat, but you’re not going to get your way today!

She withdrew her hands from Gelsemium’s vapours, twisted towards the Princess’ aide and plunged her arms into the smog. She tensed her body, squeezed all her eyes shut, forced open the pores in her fingers and palms and then grunted, the millions of miniscule mouths on her hands sucking the misery out of the aura.

The process took just twenty seconds but a monumental effort from the Aurian. She felt sick to her stomach and dizzy as she took in the bile, spread it through her body, burnt it off. Loni, too, was affected by the act, her shroom body wobbling as she grew weak. Through it all, Flenz continued to cut, Gelsemium continued to snore, the Fiscus Fly continued to flutter lazily, proboscis extended, seeking the source of the aroma that woke it.

When the anxiety, stress and nervous tension had been fully absorbed by the Aurian, Loni, her aura now golden, collapsed to her knees, gasping as a great weight was lifted and a bank of tears burst forth.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, eyes on Laura, who’d dropped to lie prone on her side, panting from the exertion, her third eye shut now she’d done what was needed. “I was weak. I let her bully me. I never wanted to do it, I was afraid.”

Laura fell flat on her back, letting her gaze drift to Flenz. His face was relaxed and his hands moved with confidence, trimming Gelsemium’s foliage back into shape, creating a striking, new look that somehow benefited from having less flora.

“Please don’t tell,” she heard Loni plead, while the Princess continued to slumber. “I’ll explain everything. I’ll leave my fate up to her. I’ve worked for her for so long, maybe…maybe she won’t hold my past against me.”

“She won’t,” Laura said, as she felt herself drifting away. “I know her now, intimately. You can trust her. With everything. Don’t be… Don’t be afraid…”

She had overdone it and had to sleep, but as her eyes began to shut, she saw the Fiscus Fly drop towards Gelsemium’s head. She raised an arm weakly, cracked her mouth open, tried to shout a warning but words didn’t come.

They didn’t need to.

A jerk of an arm, one final snip, Flenz cut through the flowerhead and killed it before declaring: “All done!” as Laura fainted.

***

They were gone when she awoke some time later, on a small bunk in the staff room. 

Her grandfather was sitting in his chair, rocking back and forth, Aurian folk music playing.

“What happened?” she asked, sitting up.

“Nothing,” said Flenz, smiling and rising to his feet. “And everything. Our Princess was delighted with her cut. Said it made it look like she wasn’t to be messed with, a good way to start married life. She was grateful for everything you did. Ten million credits grateful. Said sorry she couldn’t wait for you to wake up. Their flight was leaving, they had to go, and her friend had something important she wanted to tell her. Now you rest there a little longer, muffin, I’ll go fetch something to eat.”

“I see. All’s well that ends well then. Not that I doubted it, much. Another successful cut, grandad, on a head that really could have used a gardener! You really are the best.”

“Tsk, tsk, don’t be silly,” her grandfather said, pausing in the door before leaving the room. “I may be the hands of the salon, my dear.

“But everyone knows you’re the star.”