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Pet Name: Tarquinn_de_Quincy
"Welcome to my Neogarden!" a handsome Kyrii prince says, rushing to greet you. "Quel bon vent vous amène -- oh? You do not understand? Excusez-moi, please forgive -- I am not the best in English, you see. I'm simply delighted to meet you. You've come to learn about the language of flowers, haven't you?"
The prince smiles and shakes your hand, and then he steps back. Behind him is a winding garden path, shady now from the wild shadows created by the setting sun. On both sides of the little stone path are flower bushes, manicured green hedges, and an abundance of blooming Zobamints, Perfume Mallows, Lazydels, and dozens of dozens of fragrant roses. The faint evening breeze carries and mixes the scents of all these blossoms, and creates a timeless dreamlike peace in the garden.
"I am Tarquinn de Quincy, prince of Brightvale." the Kyrii says, placing a bejeweled hand upon his chest and raising his chin high in the air (you'll have to excuse his occasional pompous displays, for they are expected of royalty, especially Brightvalian royalty). "There is nothing I enjoy more, there is nothing closer to my heart than my garden. Voilà! My sweetest passion! I spend hours here each day, traversing these many paths, these manmade trails through nature. I especially enjoy taking brisk strolls in the morning, when the blue and pink morning glories open their funnel-shaped petals and the Beekadoodles and Buzzers are flitting about. Everything smells fresh and new then; the dew sparkles in the pale sunlight of a new day. It's truly lovely. It gives one a positive outlook on life.
"I take great care in making sure that my beautiful plants are safe from any harm that may cross them. Some are sensitive to direct sunlight, some cannot take dry soil or too much water. Some need larger space or more shade, and it's all up to me to learn the needs of my flowers and help them grow as strong as they can."
"Why do I care so much, you ask?" Tarquinn chuckles at the question. "Flowers are so important to me because they are nature's most beautiful gifts to the world. I love taking care of my garden and seeing the results of my work -- beautiful blossoms in every shade of the rainbow! Do they not make all who see them sigh with happiness? Do you not feel at peace with this complicated world when you step amongst the quiet flowers of a tended garden? You see now, perhaps, how important it is for us to be close to nature, to care for plants and give them places in our lives. We'd be sad and careworn if we didn't find time to enjoy such simple delights: a rose in bloom, the melody of the Songflowers, an unfurling white lily. Yes, we would wither as a plant in the dark otherwise.
"But I speak of gloomy things now. I'm sure you can see how much my roses mean to me!" Tarquinn exclaims. With a wave of his hand, he urges you to follow him deeper into the garden. You pass a stone Kyrii fountain creeping with ivy, and then you turn left under the long, hanging branches of a weeping willow. A boundless rose garden opens before you, with roses in every color and shade, roses tangled with roses, climbing high along a sturdy lattice.
"Do you know the language of the flowers?" Tarquinn asks. "Flowers speak directly to one's heart, not in words but in colors, scents, and shapes. It is no wonder why they are such important features of life's most emotional events: birthdays, anniversaries, marriages, and funerals ...
"If you receive a red rose, for example, do you not feel loved? You do, they are the symbol of love. Would you like me to speak of more secret meanings?" Tarquinn asks. He motions to a large bush of immaculate white roses.
"A white rose speaks of innocence, purity, and silence. And here, these pink roses signify grace. Blue stands for mystery, and violet for love at first sight. Every type of flower has a special meaning; some are good and some bad, like the black rose which could mean farewell."
The sun sets over the garden and the cool shadows join and become one. It's clearly time to go, but the prince restrains you. He reaches out to a bush of dark pink roses and clips a few off with scissors. Then he picks a handful of fluffy yellow rue. He arranges the flowers into a simple bouquet and hands them to you.
"Hélas, I have rue for regret; I regret that our meeting was so brief! And deep pink roses for gratitude. I'm grateful you could come, and I hope we shall meet again!"
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