Sivard attempts to enact a death plan

Aloe and Canella, Valerian and Chamomile, as always this was the bitter smell of healing. 

It was always times like this, after a fight where he was something to care for, that he felt indebted.

They were always helping him with his obligations, though he’d long sense given himself up to those burdens.

Their soul is full of Violets and Yarrow, when their dearest Sirvard is injured.

Souls are the kinda thing that grows flowers when you save them, and Sirvard did so much more, at least according to Lian.

Thornless Roses were the first to grow, in every shade of violet.

The flowers grew so lush in their Soul, that the effervescent shine of it would be covered.

So much so that it took a serious pruning to find the Delphinium and Lilac that had grown there first.

There was power in Lian’s heart of hearts, and unlike the sickened and ghostly, Sivard was allowed to prune as he liked.

But that wasn’t the activity of the evening, they would curl up as closely as possible to him after his tending was done, they’d play with his overgrown hair, and he knew where in their spectral light the Balsam would grow.

Their hands were thoughtless and kind, in the slowly turning night, as ever necessary rest overtook.

Their first words in the morning would be in regards to his near forgotten injuries, “I’ll tend to it dear, rest.”

He would be bound up in the living area, against the new morning sun, as they dealt with the garden outside.

He really didn’t like it at all, as the spice and cloves overpowered his essence; he became aware of the Carnations growing in his own Soul.

He knew that if he were to cut them, they would be Yellow.

So of course he did, asking Lian for his shears.

He pulled from within himself, the over plump petals, along with the greenish stems.

Lian would watch him, intently, waiting for his next request.

“Could you get me a vase?”

“Of course!”, and they would run off for it, filling it with water, as the Carnations had taken mortal weight.

With this it could be kept fresh, for use in potions.

It was the easiest thing to call it, the infusions and distillation of Soul flowers made up half their income.

Being the owners of a flower shop they were expected to make a majority of their income in the sale of flowers. they did technically, but they couldn’t exactly claim the emotional byproduct in any legal way.

It wasn’t the most illicit way to make money, but it was certainly strange from an outsider's perspective.

Especially so for those who thought they valued the Soul, a majority of their product was cut from purgation, and was the byproduct of duress. 

Similar to that of Sivard’s own Yellow Carnations.

There’s an expansive difference between some midday self-hatred and long term possession, the least of which was the sheer amount of flowers.

A tentative midday clipping had nothing on the product from one exorcism.

The other big difference was the danger factor, one being easy enough to do on a bad day, the other potentially taking you out of commission for a week.

Sivard had been doing this kinda thing for most of his life, and while he was thankful to Lian for their care, his job did pose a health risk.

Lian didn’t deserve the consequences for that.

Enid, Lian’s friend agreed.

Though she had a different answer in mind.

So when Enid found herself without a place to live Sivard saw kismet, and invited her.

Lian, feeling more emotionally aware than him, grew Clematis and Cyclamen, which were a rare cutting for them.

Lian seemed to feel alot, but they didn’t always feel like that, which was a nice change of pace.

Enid was every bit embarrassed by her predicament, Evergreenclematis and Butterflyweed grew thick in her Soul.

But knowing how she felt about Soul Flowers and the cutting of them, Sivard wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

He wasn’t much pleased when Mint and Petunia grew from those same depths.

Lian grew Oxeye and Houseleek as if to make a point

They didn’t like cutting on the bed but it was better than growing Zinnias also.

He knew that it would become a routine like anything else, but they would be finicky about the bed until then.

He would be the one to bring the vases out each morning, and Enid would watch, while her Soul remained overgrown.

Sivard tried to avoid staring, as Rhododendron and orange Lilies were added to her Soul Garden.

In all the years he’d known Lian and their people, he’d yet to see the light in Enid, it was like her Soul was snuffed out by her feelings.

She’d never been possessed, but Sivard was startled by the vociferous smell, it didn’t bode well for her if he could smell the flowers from the other end of the room.

“You know, I can usually only smell my own flowers.” Sivard said.

“That’s gross.”

“That might be so, but it’s the only thing to go by for my own pruning.”

Enid decided to avoid him for the rest of that day.

He was willing to go the slow way around though, and with Lian doing the deliveries that week it was only a matter of time before she’d acclimate.

It was when Balsamine and Bachelor’s Button added clove spice and musk to the cacophony, that Sivard gagged.

Flowers were meant to wilt, and Soul Flowers did so quickly.

At least in their natural state, the heart doesn't have the power to stay in one state for that long, Possession augments that via psychic link, but what bothered Sivard was the variety. 

Every feeling at once, kept in perpetuity.

Which was a pretty big hitch in his plan, it’s the kinda thing you find in old grimoires to laugh at.

Not the best basis for a truce of any kind.

Sivard would persevere though, as while Enid was disagreeable and stubborn, Sirvard had a mission.

So whether Enid knew it or not, she was being drafted into it.

To put it simply, Sivard was worried, age was nobody's friend and he, like anyone else, was subject to it.

He didn’t want to leave any loose ends in the event of his death.

Enid was having trouble as of late, but she was at one time a very close friend, and Lian was certain to need those, with luck of Peach-Blossom or Cypress.

They deserved as much as that, Enid was just his first opportunity.

A slightly better option than most of Lian’s blood relations, even if she needed some help.

Enid had taken to sleeping too much, it was understandable given her circumstances, but it worried him.

Sivard knew there was trouble, but he really couldn’t say anything.

She wasn’t possessed, but he hadn’t realized before that this was normal for her.

Her very soul, impossible to parse.

“Quit looking at me.” she said.

“Sorry, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

The smell of Sugar was all his heart would offer, Acanthus when it was finally cut, “goodness dear, what are you even doing?”

Silence was all he could answer with.

Lian pulled the shears away, before going to hold him for his trouble.

They’d pull at his hair, Oleander and Coriander present in them to spite the chiding of their voice earlier.

Though it may be better proof.

Lian was livid with Begonia and Rhododendron, “You need to talk to her.”

“You know it isn’t anyone else's job to love your lover. It’s quite alright for your friend not to like me.”

“That’s not the point, she’s being an Arse.”

“It’s probably fine. Besides she ain’t doing anything about it.”

“Enid, your Spirit is stinky,” Lian stated, their Soul blooming in Cowslip and Dill, “Sivard can see what’s going on and at this point you can only damage yourself.”

“I didn’t-”

“Of course you didn’t, you're not an Arse,” they said to Sivard, Lian looked over to Enid, “Look Enid, you need to get a pruning, and a personality adjustment, cause this ain’t healthy.”

“Just cause you're fine with it doesn’t mean I gotta be.”

“Enid, you’ve got a botanical garden growing in your Soul, and it’s sapping your energy.”

“how-”

“I’ve lived with Savard for five years, he doesn’t worry like this for nothing. I know you aren’t possessed Enid, but you could never deserve this pain. No one could. We can help, let us.” their heart was full of Balm and Lemon Blossom in saying it.

Even Enid, with Crab Blossom and Red Columbine warmed up to the idea, after some cajoling from Lian.

She did finally lay out for pruning, they didn’t bother with sedatives, as the flowers couldn’t hurt anything until they were cut.

Sivard managed slowly but surely, unwinding stiff vines type by type from the light of her.

Enid flinched whenever she heard the dry snap of them from above her sternum, disturbed by the pull of them as much as the notion that they could dry out without that mortal weight.

Lian, his ever watchful attendant, had arranged vases of adequate size, so as to parse out the eclectic harvest.

“Look at that, Bachelor’s Button, Anemone and Marigold, all twisted together. That must’ve been horrid.”

They’d worked like this before, and Lian had become just as well versed, even without the sixth sense.

A new growth of Borage and Yellow Roses grew beneath his hand, signaling that it might’ve been a mistake to leave Enid unsedated.

“Why do you need to be so weird?”

“Quiet, you're just about paying the rent.” Lian chided.

She huffed uncomfortably at that, nothing new grew between that and the next, as Sirvard untangled, pulled then cut.

He kept at this monotonous pace, as while Enid was insensitive in most other respects, she was a very touchy patient.

Though she was at least a bit more honest in the role.