Chapter 1: The Flower Crown

The morning bell sang throughout the village, reminding Annlynn of the fact that she’d not slept all night. To be fair, it would be hard for anyone to sleep on the night before their thirteenth birthday, let alone someone who often slipped out at night. Most nights, she made her way back to her hovel before morning, and her stepmother wouldn’t notice. Most parents wouldn’t have punished her for it. As for her stepmother, she wasn’t entirely certain.

“I hope she’ll be merciful,” Annlynn said, turning toward her best friend, Tarvos. She rubbed her hands together nervously, before wringing her hands out on her skirt. 

Tarvos gave a wicked grin. “Let’s just focus on your ceremony.”

They had spent the night in a small wooden barn. The smells, along with the hay, had often accompanied her on late nights. She and Tarvos often spent many late nights together, telling each other outlandish stories. There, Annlynn could pretend she was a boy, and with Tarvos, all of the rules about pretending to be a woman  Sometimes they played an old game of chess. More often than not, she would about old war stories she’d dreamed of writing. Meanwhile, Tarvos would often talk about village gossip, and he occasionally discussed old romance stories. Most of the time, when he discussed the romantic fairy tales, he often switched the girl for another man. Annlynn, whether she’d realized or not, always felt heard when listening to those stories. Only, she didn’t often have a clear reason as to why. All she knew was that she could be herself here, and she wouldn’t have to pretend to fit into ideals and a mindset which most of the village considered to be feminine.

Before long, Annlynn had darted out of his barn, making her way back to her home. Inside, her stepmother waited, a wooden spoon in her hand and a stern look on her face.

“And prey tell me where were you off to?” She asked.

“Milla’s house?” Annlynn suggested.

“Don’t lie,” her stepmother said.

“I was with Tarvos,” Annlynn’s entire brave facade crumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” her stepmother said. “Do you want the whole village gossiping about you?”

“No?” Annlynn offered. But they already did so. Some of the girls her age had gossiped quite easily, and one of them had made the mistake of gossiping too close to Tarvos. Annlynn, after that point, had withdrawn from public life. “But they already do. And Tarvos is as good a friend as any of them.”

“No matter,” her stepmother said. “Since it is a special day, I suppose I could hold off on any punishments until tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Annlynn said.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Her stepmother chided. “Just get ready for the day. Ah, you could have had any other time to have a thirteenth birthday, but it had to be in early Spring, when we don’t have any fresh flowers to make your flower crown. And when we don’t have much in the way of food, either.”

Annlynn ignored the rest of her rambling and bathed herself. Once she finished, she put on a deep green dress with a pale bodice and under dress underneath. Paired with her blonde hair and green eyes, she should have appreciated how she looked, especially with her hair woven into braids and twisted into a bun. But there was something which felt completely hollow. Maybe she was just insecure about herself, but there was something that didn’t register.

The flower crown ceremony started with the creation of the item it was named for. Annlynn, along with other village girls around her age, would weave straw, old bluegrass tips, and even a few forsythia flowers into a circular garment. As her best friend, Tarvos was allowed to join, despite the way some of the other girls giggled at him. Annlynn made the crown, while Tarvos, Vesilla, Milla and Elvia each added a different element. By the end, Annlynn added the dried golden rods to it. With twine and a wire frame, it was ready to place onto her head.

Annlynn, with her hair in a bun, would look like a character from an old fairy tale. Perhaps a goddess who took care of and watched over the rolling grasslands which made up the primary landscapes both in and surrounding the village. The hissing sounds of the winds, and the strands of hair played in a gentle rhythm. At that point, the wind only added to the character she had created for herself. The spring equinox had also arrived, and some flowers had begun to bloom. But thus far, the rolling browns had claimed the grasslands as their home, save for a few spots where one could see hints of green near the dirt.

A meadowlark called out above, the trills echoing across the rolling hills of farmlands. The repetitive nature of the bird call slipped into her mind once more, just to become a useless noise as she was called to the front.

Outside a small temple, a priest waited, gently grabbing the flower crown as Milla and Elvia gave it to him. He then turned toward the small crowd. The entire village had gathered, as if the event was something special. Annlynn, on the other hand, paid little attention to his speech. She’d heard it before, when he had given such a ceremony to her now dead stepsister. They were all gathered there to celebrate her, and one day she would help contribute to the village and become an exceptional woman. These were things he had said to everyone. For the boys, they often gave him a piece of the meat they had hunted, and then he would give some blessing and make comments about them being an exceptional man. A few months ago, Annlynn had joined Tarvos on his hunting journey.

Finally, when the crown was placed on her head, Annlynn pulled out of the daydream. She gave a polite thanks to the crowd, then turned toward a large outdoor table made out of stone. A large, red and white checkerboard patterned cloth had been placed on top of it, alongside a feast of venison, mashed potatoes, and a few other vegetables and cheeses. Someone had rationed out some fruits they had canned over winter, offering them up for a pie.  Milla’s mother.

At this ceremony, it had really seemed like Milla’s mother, as well as Tarvos’ parents, had done more to celebrate and honor Annlynn than her own stepmother.

The food, while meager compared to an autumn flower crown ceremony, gave Annlynn a sense of satisfaction she hadn’t known in a long time. Many people around her, especially her friends, chattered on about different village gossip. One old woman, close to Annlynn’s stepmother, remained quiet, but for one comment.

“You know, it is quite unusual for the weather to be this warm so soon,” she said, a light cackle in her voice. “My knees are feeling a change might be coming tomorrow. I hope you’re ready for a storm, my friends.”

Another woman gave her a threatening look. “You’re always saying that, Gloria. Always on a day of celebration, too. We should count ourselves lucky we were able to have this ceremony. This time of year, it is quite unusual, yes. Up until now, it has been unusually cold, has it not? But today has been nice and warm.”

Annlynn shrank back from the conversations. It wasn’t that she hated them, or that she didn’t enjoy listening. But a pang lingered. Not from hunger, and not from any known problem. Maybe it was the fact that her step mother had always been watching her, and she had not been active enough. Annlynn would likely receive a speech about how she was ungrateful later on. But as she turned to Tarvos, it was like she wanted a way out of the day. And before long, a day she had been supposed to celebrate had become a day she had wanted to end as soon as possible.

She remembered the stories about Prince Aleksei from the night before and she told them to herself as she tried to sleep. That time, she added a detail about a rainbow somewhere, with a dream-like quality to it. As birds danced in the sky after the storm, there was something carefree about them. They had never seen a war, and nor did they ever see any famine afterward.