Cultivation Part 1

The seed fell from the sky. It bounced once and landed by Mandara's feet as she slipped out for a midnight walk.

The white casing shone like a seashell in the glow of moonlight, reminding Mandara of the ocean she'd never see again. Looking up to the wisps of clouds, she glimpsed a blur of white feathers disappear into the mist, the wingspan too wide to be any bird she'd ever known.

Peter would never believe me.

But then again, he didn't acknowledge the magic surrounding their everyday life. Only she saw and appreciated the unknown while he buried his nose in his books of numbers and substantial things.

She'd show him. Everyone needed a little magic in their lives, whether they believed in it or not.

Picking up the seed, she smoothed her fingertips over the bumpy surface and wondered where to plant it. Peter's prize rose garden lined the brick wall separating their estate from the forest. She tiptoed over, smelling the sweet scent of the red blossoms.

Thorns pricked her skin as she dug her arm in the bushes. Behind her, a golden light flickered on. He must have waken up and found her bed empty. She thrust the seed into the soil with her finger and smoothed over the hole she'd made in the rosebed.

"Mandara, where have you run off to?" His voice echoed into the night.

Wiping drips of blood from her arm, she jogged into the golden light.