Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

         Taranza sensed the warm caress of the sun as he gazed at his own creation. A huge leafy chinchilla-like creature, whose ears seemed to form a heart despite the rounded gash in the right ear, stood proudly in front of the spider. The goliath was at the end of a line of other individuals of various shapes and ages, all bearing a somewhat life-like aspect despite their immobility. They all might have looked threatening if they weren’t living sculptures made by Taranza over the years.

Shortly after the abduction of the one the wizard had considered at the time "the hero of the lower world", and consequently having painfully understood that he no longer served the sweet friend he had known in the past, Taranza had asked King Dedede how he could one day earn his pardon, even offering his own head which had slightly disturbed the monarch. The penguin had brushed aside the whole puppeteer and invasion thingy, even joking about how it was a common occurrence for him, and simply said he had already forgiven Taranza the second he had had his change of heart.

That hadn’t been the answer the royal servant had wanted. Taranza wanted retribution… punishment… pain. The People of the Sky didn’t even blame him for the accidental corruption of their beloved queen, only upsetting him further. Taranza thought that only death was appropriate for his mistakes; all they gave him was that unmerited sympathy and pity. It made him so sick of himself. And when Taranza had laid down his life before one of the men he had hurt the most, hoping the king had enough resentment in his heart to make him suffer, King Dedede just laughed it off. For a very long time, Taranza had felt awful because of all the kindness he had received, when in fact he thought he deserved nothing other than misery.

Taranza wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he had a mental meltdown right there, in the throne room. It was only after the king had offered him some tea that the arthropod had finally calmed down and wiped his tears. Dedede took a great half an hour of his own time (not like he was someone very busy despite his status, to be honest) making a list of all the threats that Dream Land had to fend off in the past, even including his own misdeeds. This put Taranza in a new perspective where, even if he had nearly led Popstar to his ruin and unintentionally killed the love of his life, he clearly was among the least malicious guys that Kirby had to defeat. Still, Taranza had been thankful when King Dedede sentenced him to “penal servitude”, or in other words, to unceremoniously be his royal gardener for as long as the arachnid liked, in order to put his mind had ease.

So Taranza rested here, in the castle courtyard, years after that exchange, contemplating Dedede’s last commission to him for the “Star Allies’ Hall of glory” as he liked to put it. Elfilin, recalled Taranza as he lifted his straw hat to mop his brow, was really an interesting fellow. It was a shame that he had solely seen the inter-dimensional entity one time after the "worlds colliding" situation and that he never had the chance to speak to him directly. It really had been a pain for Taranza to make the design of the plant structure using only photos. He looked forward to the Star Allies meeting at the end of the week to learn more about him.

Another thing Taranza was looking forward to, however, was the mysterious job interview he was supposed to attend soon. Ensuring that his gloves were clean, he plunged them into his green web-patterned cape to pull out an elegant letter. The linen paper was adorned with bold blue and gold lines, and his texture smooth underneath the wizard’s fingers, yet difficult to crease. The aesthetic wasn’t the sole thing interesting about the letter, as his content (and the lavender scent that emanated from it) made him raise an eyebrow quite a few times. Whoever had written the correspondence (and forgotten to sign it) had, to Taranza’s humble opinion, truly a way with words.

Unfolding it again, Taranza searched once more for the shade of a clue as to who had sent it. The words, some of them having been rescued from the bowels of an old dictionary, were written in cursive to give some kind of old charm to it. The letter began as formal as he could be, if not a bit pompous even for Taranza’s taste, which comforted him with the idea that it must have been a remote earl, needing his services to water his flowers. To be fair, Taranza was destined to be known in the field after having worked for two notorious monarchs. It would have been a waste of his skill, but the gardener held the firm belief that every flower deserved to blossom, no matter their smell or beauty.

Nevertheless, after the first paragraph, the style changed slightly which took him by surprise. The letter became very flattering, making Taranza’s cheeks take a small blueish hue during his reading. This naturally passed through the praises of the works that Taranza had produced, but also through tributes of his kindness collected by other gardeners who had rubbed shoulders with him. Taranza may have been by no means a prideful creature, his gardening skills were nonetheless one of the few things that allowed him to puff out his chest and be even a little pompous, and his anonymous employer had perfectly nailed it. Moreover, the transcript of the good that was said of him had made him smile the first time he reached the paragraph.

The sycophancy went on for several more lines before the exact subject of the job came up. The turns of phrases put aside; it was to plant the seeds in a garden inside a so-called "paradise". A little pretentious to call his home a paradise yet this only accentuated Taranza’s curiosity for this enigmatic character. A rich aristocrat, eager to boast of his new backcourt, perhaps? Or maybe an old hermit, living recluse on the edge of Popstar and waiting for a bit of company? It was possibly a magician or a monk, seeking to restore his sanctuary hence the connotation of "paradise" was more spiritual?

Either way, Taranza was impatient to meet this individual shrouded in mystery. But he could literally only wait, the letter stating that its author would reach him personally, no date or location provided other than the advice to carry the letter at all times. This was somewhat unusual if not downright worrying, however Taranza had faith that it would be an enjoyable experience, and if its employer was revealed to be ill intentioned, the spider-like magician could easily defend himself. This whole ordeal really didn’t help his blood pressure, as he kept feeling like a mix between excitement and anxiety in his stomach… especially concerning a recent discovery about himself he had made.

Taking a sip of his chilled water bottle while trying to ignore the overwhelming heat, Taranza surprised himself to hope that whoever this person would be, they would meet here so that they could witness his latest prowess. The tarantula really needed something, anything, to distract himself. He was feeling quite down lately, without being able to quite identify the exact reason why.

Something in the air he couldn’t pinpoint just made his bones ache. Spring break, with the cold white world giving way to the blossoming of fields of flowers, should have delighted him. However, there had been this odd perfume back in Floralia, beautiful but overwhelming his senses and growing stronger each passing day, which had only prompted him to descend to the Lower World sooner than expected.

Yet, Taranza could still smell as if it had followed him. Strangely, not finding the source of the familiar scent only made him feel worse… hollower. The morning dew of a sun that never ascended…

“Hey, Taranza!”

His heart skipping a beat, the Floralian turned away from Elfilin’s floral sculpture to see a waving Magolor approach. The other wizard was wearing his habitual blue clothing with yellow clogs in addition to a less usual sun umbrella with a similar pattern, making Taranza giggle a little. With his design plastered on nearly anything he owned, there was never any doubt as to who Magolor's properties belonged to.

“Hi Magolor!” Taranza waved back, “w-what are you doing here?” Nervousness dripped from his question as for a split second, Taranza had thought he was going to be face to face with his secret admirer and he hoped that his disappointment was not palpable.

The Halcandran, like a bad actor on a stage, gasped in shock, hand clenching his chest as if Taranza had taken the words out of his mouth to not so metaphorically stabbed him.

“What? Can’t I say hello to one of my closest friends?" he exclaimed, showing a false expression of pain.

Taranza felt his excitement disappeared in the blink of an eye. “No, no! It’s just that you said yesterday that you had something planned for today in the Lor!”, Taranza began to fidget his silver hair. “I didn’t want to come across as rude or-”

“Relax”, chuckled Magolor as quickly he closed the gap between them, “I’m just teasing you.” Taranza was relieved and let a small, exasperated sigh escape him. He was already so nervous with people, why was it ten times worse each instant he was in the company of the trickster?

You know why.

Taranza jolted as something whispered in the back of his head. Fortunately, the feline didn’t seem to notice him flinching.

“It’s true that I have something special planned in the afternoon” Magolor said, the insectoid noticing how the folds of the feline face deepened, hinting at the smile hidden behind the bel, “but that do not prevent me from spending time with you.”

Why do you always have to be such a tease, Magolor?

The gardener thought that his face was going to catch fire. It’s been a month now since Taranza had made his great discovery, that he had figured he had some feelings for Magolor. Following her death, the extravagant merchant had always been one of his closest friends. Kirby and Dedede were nice, don’t get him wrong, but that was the problem. They couldn’t understand the guilt he was experiencing. Kirby was… well, Kirby, and King Dedede’s past misdeeds weren’t as serious as killing a loved one. Encountering this strange sorcerer, someone who had made a lot of mistakes but managed to turn his life around, had been relieving for Taranza. And over time, he'd come to realize that his feelings for Magolor were similar to those he'd felt for Joronia.

This had happened slowly, over the course of several years, without him even realizing it. The defeat of Void Termina had forged many bonds, but Taranza had only recently realized how privileged his relationship with the Halcandran had become. The weekly tea sessions, the long hours of study in the great library of Royal Road, the incessant VIP tickets Magolor offered him...

Taranza's feelings had awakened like a sunrise. No matter how much he closed his eyes, turned his back on it, and pretended that the blinding truth didn't exist, that golden light had eventually seeped through the curtains of his soul to reach his eyes. From that moment on, Taranza could not look away from the dawn that chased away the shadows in which he had buried his heart, and that terrified him.

“So, you finished Elfilin?” Magolor watched as the greenish statue cast a lengthy shadow on both of them. Taranza was truly thankful for the change of subject. “Isn’t there… some kind of size difference with the original?” the blue hooded mage asked, now glancing as his friend. As much as the new addition to Kirby’s circle of friends seemed interesting, especially concerning his connection to the Ancients, Magolor had only encountered Elfilin once before the magical rodent had to come back to the Forgotten Land to fix all the dimensional rifts unleashed by his other half. Furthermore, Magolor never tried to force any interaction with Elfilin, feeling that urging him to talk about his traumatic past to someone who used machines that, hypothetically, had harvest his powers without his consent in the distant past, would not end well for anyone involved.

“Well, I wanted him to take as much place as the others, so I had to enlarge him slightly.” Taranza really wished that it didn’t sound like he was insulting Elfilin’s size.

“Tell that to Dedede,” laughed Magolor, “Pretty sure that his sculpture is three time bigger than everyone’s.” His amusement was pretty contagious as Taranza started to giggle too. “It was already like that when I’ve been hired, but when I showed him sketches to give similar proportions for the Star Allies’ sculptures…” Taranza had to put all his hands on his mouth to hide his giggle, “the King said that it would look too ‘ostentious’!”

Magolor burst out laughing, nearly falling backward, which finally broke the Floralian’s polite facade. Both mages shared a good laugh for a solid minute before slowing coming back to their senses. There was a time when Taranza would not have been able to make fun of others, even if it was in good spirit. He guessed that his friendship with the likes of Marx or Magolor really loosened him up in some aspects.

Panting, Taranza would have pondered on the disappearance of his earlier anxiety if it weren’t for a ticking sound coming out from his pocket. Snapping back to his duty, he took out from his cloak a copper-colored hunter-case pocket watch and opened it with a press of his thump. Even though Susie had extolled the virtues of connected watches to him repeatedly, his old mechanical watch had remained at his side. It has a more... sentimental value that made it impossible for Taranza to part with it. As he opened it, the wizard tried not to look at the photo inside of the lid, focusing instead on the hands, the two metal brothers pointing proudly upwards.

He let himself be lulled by the melody of the clanking bronze gears before letting out an exhale of displeasure.

“Something wrong Ranza?”

The said ‘Ranza’ looked up to face the worried look of his friend, his ears adorably pinned back. By the moon, how can a person be so cute without even trying?

Chasing these thoughts from his mind, Taranza tried to regain his composure. He had other things to focus on than the fact that he could feel his heart fly out of his chest each time his gaze met Magolor’s… for the time being.

“I received an anonymous letter from someone who wanted to employ me,” Taranza bluntly said, hoping to not sink further into his reverie. “However, there’s no date set for my interview” he continued while he turned to put his tools away in his homemade work bag. Occupying his hands was the best way for the arthropod to hide his frustration. When someone carelessly crushed flowers, or one of Marx's pranks went too far, or an old friend had been a little too demanding of him, Taranza always kept his many pairs of hands busy. He didn’t like confrontation, arguing with people was immensely tiring and he wasn’t someone confident to begin with. That’s why she had constantly taken matters into her own six hands when any given situation had made him uneasy.

Magolor frowned. “No info, or a way to reach out?” Taranza nodded back, still tidying up his gardening equipment.

“Care if I see the letter?”

Without much hesitation, the Floralian carefully handed him the paper. The dimensional traveler began to skim the letter, letting one or two chuckles as his yellow eyes jumped from paragraph to paragraph. “This dude must really have a library filled with dictionaries,” he sniggered with mirthfulness.

“Yeah, I bet he likes to hear himself talk,” responded Taranza, perhaps kind of harsher than he intended to. But after all, wasn’t it impolite to keep someone waiting? Magolor froze for a second and glanced at his mage colleague.

“Huhh, yeah, I bet he does.” It came awkwardly, which earned him a questioning look from Taranza.

Suddenly, Magolor jolted back to his cheerful demeanor and announced: “I believe we can know who this mysterious fellow is.” There was an ounce of glee in his voice, which made Taranza suspicious. He recognized the spark in the cat-like eyes of the Halcandran. There was far more than he let on and Taranza wondered how much Magolor was playing him. Before any assumption could be uttered however, a purplish flame appeared at the tip of Magolor’s gloved index. “Do you trust me?”, if there was always that same amusement behind his question, the pilot nevertheless gave his friend a serious look to assure him that he knew what he was doing.

Taranza tried to string up a sentence together, before eventually just nodding while muttering something among the lines of not doing anything foolish.

“Please Ranza, when did I do something that ended up spiraling outside of my control?” Magolor gave him a wink, his sentence overflowing with assumed irony. All Taranza gave in return was a roll of his multiple eyes.

Without much of a word or a warning, he slipped his finger on the bottom right corner of the paper, the flames spreading quickly over the rest of the letter. The once calm florist flipped in an instant as he let out an audible yelp. Taranza quickly tried to snatch the letter to limit the damage, but Magolor pushed him away with one hand, using the other to hold the mail out of reach. There was a small fight, albeit a rather humorous one, as the two participated more in a childish brawl than anything else. After some struggling, Taranza managed to snatch the letter from Magolor, shouting at him as if he'd lost his mind, before realizing that the fire had already faded by itself. Even stranger, the paper had not lost its integrity, the sole change on its surface being that it has darkened to a more orange hue.

“It's a flame-retardant material,” explained Magolor, clearly amused by the incredulity painted on his friend’s face. “I won’t bore you with the details”, Taranza actually really wanted to be bored by the details, “but you can cast it in a chimney, and it won’t have a scratch!” Magolor took a few steps before pointing to the end of the page “The most wonderful thing being that the heat may reveal invisible ink on paper”. Taranza glared at the corner where the fire at started, expecting to find a signature or a name revealing the identity of the recipient. What he did not expect, however, was a little doodle of a feline wearing a signature hood, with a little glove making a victory sign.

The rascal.

The cheeky rascal.

Taranza lowered the letter from his face only to see Magolor's smug smile. “Surprise!”

It took far too long for Taranza to collect himself than he would like to admit. Registering that he was blankly staring at his friend, open-mouthed and surely displaying an expression of utter incomprehension, Taranza snapped back. “It was you!” Magolor let out a cackle, like a dramatic villain whose trickery had finally been exposed to the hero.

“Why?” asked Taranza, exasperated by the lack of explanation. He wasn’t angry or sad at the masquerade, simply shocked.

“Because I need your skills of course!” answered naturally Magolor, still convulsing with laughter.

"You could have simply called me, you know?” Taranza crossed his imaginary arms, looking his partner dead in the eyes.

Magolor calmed himself a little, taking a sober stare while baring as always a playful but honest smile. “And where’s the fun in that? I like creating mystery”, he began to unconsciously gesture with his hands, “I love theatrics and seeing the wonder and amazement in the eyes of every living thing when I successfully pulled off a performance!” Taranza eased up, seeing his friend passionately ramble. The unpleasant feeling of having been deceived faded as the magician lost himself in the monologue, replaced by an all-too-familiar fire that fanned in his chest. This sensation slowly enveloping his being… Taranza knew it all too well from someone. Someone who had been dear to him.

His throat tightened.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Ranza! Was it too much?” Once again being thrown out of memory lane, Taranza jumped back to his usual self to cast a perplexed glance in response to the worried look of Magolor. Me and my flagrant melancholy. “It was supposed to be a joke, I didn’t want to be mean. I just-”

“It’s okay” Taranza gave him a warm smile, “But why me? You have enough money to buy yourself an entire team.”

Magolor froze. “You’re serious?” He grinned as he saw the absolute puzzled look on Taranza’s facial expression. “You are the best gardener I know! I mean, you perfectly replicated my natural awesomeness in my living sculpture”, Magolor laughed while gently hitting the Floralian’s shoulder.

Taranza blushed from the compliment, “That’s not truth-”

“Ta-ta-ta! I promised to say the truth and only the truth, remember?”. Magolor took a solemn posture, giving a wink. “So, when I say that I think you’re the best in your domain, that’s not a lie. Okay?” He gave me the double-gun fingers, still wearing his wide smirk.

By Nova, Taranza was glad that he could blame the reason for his sweat on the overwhelming heat of the day.

"And what exactly will my service consist of?" growing confident, Taranza decided to play along. He had planned to take a day off to lose himself in the king's library, but if one of his dearest friends was in such need of a competent gardener, wasn't it his duty to offer him his six hands?

“Well ~” started Magolor in a singsong voice, barely concealing his delight, “You will see when we get there!” In a flash, Magolor grabbed his hand to pull him out of the royal garden. Clutching his hat and gardening tote tightly, Taranza could only gaze at Magolor’s gloved fingers, carefully intertwined with his own.

He is going to kill me. He is literally going to kill me thought Taranza, his face once again heating up, as he was pulled left and right through the maze of bushes.

Yet, he did not withdraw his hand.

         When the Lor Starcutter finally came into view, Taranza couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Sure, there was an amusing irony in parking your ship on the very spot where it had crashed so many years ago, but why did it have to be so far away?!

With Magolor practically taking a sprint -or floating rapidly to be more exact- under the blazing sun, Taranza was exhausted by the travel. That’s why when he felt the cold breath of the air conditioner brushing his skin, the magician thought he had come back to life. As always, the ship’s inner lights blinded the spider as he entered its blue-tinted metal frame. When all of his eyes finally grew accustomed to the change in brightness, each of them wavered in wonder at the many nooks and crannies of the room. It wasn’t his first time here, but technology never seized to amaze him. The main console with its multicolored keyboard, the huge holographic screen, the various panels floating down each corridor, all gave him the impression of having been transported to another universe, or to one of the science fiction books that had been recommended to him.

However, Taranza also noticed how Magolor's tastes transpired, albeit timidly, in the room. There was a large sofa here, a gray carpet decorated with cogs there, a free-standing lamp tucked away in a corner. Not much but it was cozier than what Magolor had been content with for years. During his initial tour of the place, Taranza perfectly remembered the blandness and lack of personality of the interior, as if Magolor had been too afraid to desecrate his own home. That is something that even Marx - who, to the spider's knowledge, had never owned a home - made comments about. Therefore, it was nice to see that with each of his friends’ visit, the Halcandran had filled the Starcutter with more and more furniture.

“Lor? Refreshments in the ‘Garden_Room’ please,” asked Magolor without slowing down, his paw still firmly glued to Taranza’s.

“Good afternoon, Lor!” Taranza greeted with a wave of the hand, always uncertain if she was able to see him with the lack of cameras on the walls.

“>Greetings Taranza. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

Taranza found himself a little embarrassed as he was unable to bounce the conversation around. How can you do small talk with a literal spaceship? Does she care about the weather or something like that? Taranza swallowed his thoughts as Magolor pulled him into a corridor that the arthropod was pretty sure had never existed during his previous visits. It was not long before they both ended up into a large dome-shaped room filled with numerous circular planters, each empty for now.

A huge planter was set up in the center, large enough to accommodate around twenty people, while dozens of other circles of the size of round points were positioned symmetrically closer to the wall. Magolor finally let go of his new employee, raising his hands to the sky in a triumphant "Ta-da!”

Taking off his hat, Taranza gazed at the entire indoor garden. It was huge, almost as big as the control room, and lit only by a single light in the center of the ceiling. The impossibility of the garden's dimensions in relation to the ship flogged his brain. He felt dizzy, like he was falling, and had to hold on to a wall before he managed to fight off the looming headache.

“How?”, Taranza stared wide-eyed at his friend. He knew that the Ancients were capable of wonders, but this? A box cannot have a larger interior than itself! A magic mirror? Taranza could conceive it. A machine-like comet that granted wishes? Strange and hard to believe, but magic had its way. A ship that's bigger on the inside than on the outside? You can’t beat the most basic geometric principle!

“The Lor Starcutter is non-Euclidean by design”, Magolor puffed his torso out with pride as though he had built her himself, “The Lor is like a giant organism with the ability to travel through space-time, but only her shell is visible to us. She is a pocket dimension all by herself, so she can modify her interior as she wishes!” As he spoke, Taranza felt the color disappear from his face. The realization of how utterly eldritch the Lor, the kindhearted ship where he and his friends had been invited many times, hit him like a truck. Did he just hop between dimensions several times without the slightest awareness? Was he essentially standing in her stomach?

“Here, have a drink. You look pale.”

The dread immediately dissipated when a mechanical clamp handed him a glass of lemonade. The two ice cubes floated slowly in the yellowish liquid, looking almost peaceful in their glass prison. With a little confidence, Taranza accepted the drink with a thank-you, trying not to show too much his destabilization. At this point, he should have been used to the strangeness of this world. Of Magolor’s world.

As the drink invigorated him, the coolness of the lemonade moistening his tongue and throat, the horticulturist pulled himself together. A professional shouldn’t bother with silly questions, like if they should address the Lor as a god while navigating its entrails, since the answer would in no way change his mission. His admittedly cute friend had asked him to create an indoor courtyard that could rival Ripple Star's lost gardens and there was no way he would screw this up!

At least, he hoped so.

“Do you have an idea of what you want?” Taranza’s voice had resumed to its elegant, silky tone as he reverted to his gentlemanly, professional self.

Magolor dismissed the question with a wave of his hand, “You've got carte blanche, buddy. I just want it to be beautiful, and knowing you, it will be.” Taranza wasn’t too fond of this type of request since it often ended with the customer asking to start all over again, having finally visualized what they wanted. What's more, a garden loses its charm if its owner doesn't put in the work. Transposing Magolor into a floral blend would be quite a real challenge, but perhaps not an insurmountable one.

They may have another issue, however.

“Magolor? Did you buy seeds, and dirt, and tools and…” Magolor stopped him right there, “No worry!”. With a snape of his fingers, floor tiles were swallowed up in a mechanical abyss, before resurfacing loaded with larges bags. Curiosity getting the best of him, Taranza approached the merchandise and began carefully inspecting the names. Lavender, Magnolia, Tulip just to name a few. Oddly enough, he did not recognize some of the soils and plants: Angel’s feathers, Aether’s giants, and what exactly were Withered Flowers?!

“Most of this were stocked deep into a Lor’s vault for research purposes or historical preservation, but I also ran a few errands across galaxies and dimensions to find other neat things” Magolor was practically jumping up and down as he explained, “I supposed it would make better challenge for us”.

Taranza nodded attentively, still scrutinizing the bags. His friend was right, it would be hard to create a vegetal harmony with so many different species, but nothing was too difficult for -wait did he said “us”?!

The wizard rotated his head so quickly he might have dislocated his shoulder. “You… are gonna help me?” Magolor was a perfectionist and someone who was not afraid to get his hands dirty both metaphorically and literally, but he never had strike Taranza as a plant lover.

Magolor passed right beside him and began to drag a sack of soil, not without some struggling due to its weight, towards one of the circular walls. Between one of his heavy breaths, he managed to find the strength to answer him: “Of course! I love doing new things and I am sure that it will be an enriching experience”.

Narrowing his eyes, Taranza apprehensively asked him if he at least knew how to look after the plants he had collected.

“Gardening shouldn’t be that hard, no?” the captain replied with a touch of presumption and a smile. His proud expression disappeared the instant his gaze met his friend's, his white eyes revealing a whiff of outrage. Sensing his mistake, Magolor immediately backtracked: “I mean, it’s gonna be easy because you’re here, you know?”. He let out a laugh that was meant to be confident, emphasis on the ‘meant’.

Before Magolor could sink any deeper, a tearing sound was heard and Magolor swung back, still holding part of the jute bag in his hands. His head hit hard the slab, producing a loud thud that echoed across the room. His vexation forgotten, Taranza rushed to his aid, fearing he might have severely injured himself. To his relief, Magolor had not lost consciousness and, even if he was rubbing emphatically the back of his skull, managed to get up. He mumbled something about how the Lor was going to kill him for the mess, and it took a few seconds for the spider to realize the torn-up bag had begun to spill out a never-ending flow of dirt on the floor. After ensuring there was no blood on the tiles, knowing how Magolor would never let him check underneath his hood for any injury, Taranza began to calm down. 

Having a novice will severely complicate things, he thought as he stared had his friend, who was now actively trying to pick up soil and throw it into the planter. “Magolor?”

The mage’s ears rose before he completely detached from the messy pile to look at him. “Y-Yeah?” His eyes had again these sparkles, similar as an ocean of coin pouring out of his pupils. To Taranza, Magolor looked like a child trying to hide his mischief from his mother, and knowing Magolor and the Lor’s relationship, there might have been some truth in that comparison. Still, his friend gazed at him, waiting for any advice. “Does your suit cost a lot?” asked him Taranza.

“My suit?” Magolor proudly pointed his finger at his clothes, “I made it myself! You know I sew a lot of my clothes myself? The components I use come from other dimensions to ensure better durability and comfort.”

“And is it easy to wash?”

Magolor wrinkled the eyebrows at such an odd question. “I mean, it’s a pain to clean, but I don’t see your point-”

He paused and looked down at his gloves, which had already taken on a brownish tinge, before locking eyes with Taranza, who was struggling to keep a straight face.

A silence settled down between them and, after pulling up his scarf to better conceal his embarrassment, Magolor hastily left the room to find “a more appropriate garment”.

Now alone, Taranza finally puff out. It was like he was out of breath each time Magolor was near him. He shouldn’t feel this way. He didn’t have the right to. Taranza had already pledged allegiance and loyalty to his old queen. To go on living after having caused her death was a crime in itself, but to love again? Likewise, it's not as if Magolor loved him. He must have considered him solely as a friend. A very depressed and lonely friend. Going down this path would only lead Taranza to further despair and suffering.

A chasm opened in his abdomen at this so-called truth.

Slapping himself in the face to regain his senses, he began to draw up a mental list of the tools needed for his work and, and to separate the seeds he recognized from those he did not. He had no time to dwell on his fate.

The atmosphere suddenly changed by itself. At first, Taranza couldn’t explain it. Then he remembered that he wasn't as alone as he thought. The arachnid started to pray that the Lor hadn’t notice his self-inflicted slap.

“>To assist you, I listed the various ways to plant and take care of the collected shoots.”

With that, multiple holographic interfaces appeared at the bag stack, each showing images and information about the plants. Inwardly thankful that she hadn't questioned his gesture, Taranza started to study the virtual pages and with a childlike glee, discovered that he could freely move them with a movement of his finger.

I can work with this!~

He was back in his element, in the calm and complexity of his art. Gardening was the only hobby that managed to ease his anxiety and soothe that sharp pain that never failed to stab him periodically. And while Taranza had always preferred to attend to his craft in solitude, Magolor was more than a welcome acolyte.

As hundreds of ideas and floral compositions filled his mind, he never took notice that the perfume of rose had left him.

When Magolor entered once again, still in the process of putting on his gloves, he was met with a maniacal laugh as his friend moved from left to right, assembling holographic paper mosaics above each paved circle. Creeping behind him without a sound, Magolor observed over his shoulder the assortments of flowers and trees in different shapes and colors on the interfaces. It seemed as if it was still in the process of work, but there was no telling what Taranza had behind his head. He really looked like a villain cackling about his evil plan and to be honest, it evoked something deep inside him that Magolor couldn't quite pinpoint.

“Huhh… Ranza?”

The spider let out an audible yelp as if he'd been caught red-handed committing a shameful crime, the bewitching aura enveloping him evaporated before Magolor was able to soak in more, to his staggering despair. Taranza let out a small laugh, still a bit startle by his host: “Sorry, I was running ideas for your garden, and I let myself get carried away”. Good job of making a fool of yourself, Taranza!

Rubbing the back of his neck, Magolor was still flustered of having caused such vivid reaction to his friend, but he hastened to reassure him. “There nothing to be sorry about!” He gave Taranza a playful shove. “Plus, geniuses like us need to express their passion, no matter the intensity!~”

Taranza was certain that Magolor was gonna kill him with this… if the feline’s outfit didn’t melt him first.

Magolor had exchanged his signature suit for an equally elegant (and easy-to-clean) outfit. In many ways, it was similar to his Dream Kingdom merchant's robe. It shared the same color palette, only darker. A soft beige had replaced the clinical white, and the green had abandoned the emerald tone for a more forest one. Golden traces prevented the two colors from kissing, complimenting each other. Focusing on it, Taranza thought he saw embroidered threads of the same color, symbolizing thorny stems running the length of it. Attention to detail and sartorial expertise, that's something the two of them had in common.

“>Shouldn't you both start working?”

This time, Taranza and Magolor jumped from surprise. With a silent acknowledgement, they made their way to the articles. The gardener beckoning his new assistant to help him carry a bag of dirt to one of the mediums planters, he began to outline his vision for the project. 

“With so many different types of plant, I imagined that for each space, we represent a place you have visited. We can start with Popstar. Does that sound good?” Magolor acquiesced happily.

Starting with Popstar had not been an innocuous proposal from Taranza. Most of its vegetation being harmless and easy to plant, it was the best opening door to gardening for Magolor. Carefully, they both poured soil into the planter before, under Taranza's instructions as he grinded the dirt, Magolor sows grass seeds on the fly. Once this was done, the Floralian began to plant native flowers of the planet with a precision that could only be acquired with years of experience. He buried Pop Flower’s seeds in a circular way, “consistency” and “symmetry” being the watchwords. After studiously observing, Magolor was ready for the next court. To his credit, he quickly got the hang of it.

The two friends recreated different places with the traveler’s information, including Floralia, the Dream Kingdom, Neo Star, Falluna Moon and other landscapes from other worlds. Sometimes, they built little ponds to add coral and other aquatic plants to represent oceanic locations like Planet Misteen. Another surprise was that Lor could control the temperature at specific locations, so they didn’t need to worry about planting flowers that required extreme climate.

Often enough, during their work, Taranza would talk about how to look after a garden or where to buy the tools to enlarge it, but slowly the conversation took a more personal turn. He began to talk about the meaning of colors in flowers, then about how to make trees take shapes, and finally about the smell of roses in his childhood home. Holding out his ear as his companion monologued, Magolor could swear that the light in his eyes was getting brighter and brighter as he went on. Smiling inwardly, Magolor let Taranza reminisced about his past. It was nice to not be the one info-dumping for once. An hour, maybe two, passed, but neither of them felt the passage of time.

At the time when the last medium-size planter was being filled with dirt, Magolor had already become somewhat of an expert at the task. This part of the patio representing Halcandra, Taranza let his unofficial apprentice take care of it himself and as he stood aside, he listened to Magolor enlightening him about the local fauna. “So, you see the Pop Flower? Well, they are not only on Popstar but also in other places in different dimensions. Halcandra have his own version of it and it’s actually the sole nonpoisonous plant on the planet!”

As interesting as it was, Taranza didn’t know what to focus on: the plant, or his friend's smirk. Magolor was almost radiant at the idea of teaching Taranza something about his ‘birthplace’. “I actually theorized that the abundance of this species in such distant places was due to the Ancients. It is a hypothesis that was reinforced after my visit to the Forgotten Land, which I suspect is their home world.”

Taranza was suddenly taken out of the narration and gave Magolor an odd look. “You went to the Forgotten Land? When?”

Carrying out his task, Magolor stood up and with a wave of his hand, magic dusted off his coat. “I just got back from a month-long trip with Susie to-”

“Magolor, I visited you last week. What are you talking about?!”

They both looked at each other like their interlocutor had gone completely insane before Magolor facepalmed. “Sorry, I didn’t take into account the time dilatation.”

Taranza tilted his head in confusion. Seeing how his friend was still lost, the Halcandran explained: “According to my calculations, a week there is a single day here. Hence, for you, I left with Susie four days ago”. Trying hard to not overthink about the implication of this “time dilatation” stuff, the six-handed mage preferred to feed his intrigue by asking for the reasons for his long absence. “Oh, Susie and I had a project to submit to the inhabitants of this world and...” the wizard stopped himself, wearing a smile full of secrets “We will talk about it later. We have a garden to finish!~”

Taranza did not have time to protest that Magolor was already leading him by the arm to the center of the enormous dome-shaped greenhouse. The young gardener quickly resolved to abandon his questions, knowing full well that Magolor would not give up anything before what he judged the perfect moment. For what seemed to be the thousandth time this afternoon, the two magicians filled the planter with soil, the stain being much longer than before due to the size of it.

The most annoying part done, now was the question of what seed they should actually burry as the crowning jewel of their masterpiece. Taranza cleared his throat, “We have represented places that you liked, but the final bouquet must be something that represents you. Any suggestions?”

From the way Magolor enthusiastically nodded, he had had a clear idea in mind since the beginning. Magolor turned to rummage through the bags lying to one side, and after a little digging, pulled out a small one with black seeds. Taranza contemplated the plastic envelope and its contents, seemingly seeing something that was invisible for Magolor. “So, purity and honesty it is?”

The cat-like alien’s ears flopped back, his eyes crinkling. Taranza quickly noticed his confused look. “Lavender flowers represent purity, loyalty and sincerity, among other things”.

Magolor mumbled something about irony to himself, something that anyone else might have overlooked but Taranza understood all too perfectly. The disgusting words we could say to ourselves, conveying a distorted image far outside of reality; Taranza knew them all too well. Pulling a thick, crimson-bound book from his coat, he selected one of the silver ribbons trailing from it. Taranza he scrolled through the pages, before reading the following lines with an air of satisfaction: “Frequently given as a gift to a special someone, lavender as a gift meaning sincere, unselfish or selfless love-” His cheeks heating up, he hastily skipped a dozen lines, before resuming: “Lavender also symbolizes serenity, devotion, calmness, and grace.”

He slowly closed the book, now smiling at his friend. “Plus, purple is the color of royalty and speaks of elegance, refinement, and luxury, too. I think it suits you perfectly.”

“If you say so…” said Magolor, his hears pointing upward, nonetheless. The grisly look he'd had seconds earlier had vanished.

“Is there a plant symbolizing forgiveness?” he asked, almost quietly.

Flipping through his book, Taranza paused on a particular page before turning over the tome. Apart from the dozens of paragraphs written in black ink, the most visible was a polaroid photo of a delicate flower, whose immaculate white petals radiated an aura of unparalleled simplicity and elegance. The words "White Tulips" were neatly calligraphed above the image.

“It’s pretty.” Magolor was fixed on the page, as if enchanted by its charm. Taranza caught a sparkle in his golden eyes.

“Do you want a tree?”

Magolor was roused from his reverie, his gaze searching his friend's face for the slightest hint of laughter. He found none.

“I am completely serious” said Taranza, founding endearing the look of bewilderment on Magolor. “Take a look of what type you want.” The gloved paws stroked the leather cover adorning a flower shape, and after a nod of encouragement, opened the volume.

Unsurprisingly, the trees listed all came from Popstar and, especially, from Floralia. This in no way detracted from their beauty, as Magolor perused the book attentively. Oak trees are symbol of strength, courage, and knowledge, read Magolor, but I want something a bit more unique. Birch trees also didn’t make the cut, as they worked better in groups than alone. Yew Trees, even if their longevity were impressive, looked far too imposing. Finally, an image caught his attention. The large tree possessed high-climbing, long-lived vining plants with cascades of blue to violet flowers that look simply breathtaking.

“I want this one. I want the… wisteria tree?”

Taranza clapped his hands in excitement. “Excellent choice. Can I suggest the color purple for its flowers?”

“You're reading my mind” Magolor said with a wry smile, the signification of the shade still fresh in his mind. A trapdoor appeared on the floor before opening, a metal pillar protruding from it. On the immaculate block stood a polygonal flowerpot made of resistant black plastic, a frail yet delicate sprout enthroned in its center, seemingly having amethyst-like locks.

With the utmost care, Taranza took the vase and climbed the small earthen dune to the center of the great hall. Magolor began to dig a deep hole for the plant, installing a sturdy wooden support at the same time.

It was peaceful to garden with Magolor, thought Taranza. They didn’t have the looming threat of the universe's destruction over them, nor the need to set out on an adventure. There was nothing at stake. There were just the two of them, enjoying an activity in tranquility. He hadn’t done that with someone since… Taranza winced a little but the look on Magolor as he tried to plant the sprout without hurting the stems soothed the pain deep inside him.

It was nice to hang out with the other mage, even if it was devoid of any romantic dimension.

And with that, it was almost done. Sure, their garden looked like a bunch of clods of earth, seeing that nothing could have grown in such a short period of time, but it didn't take away from the sense of accomplishment that was currently flowing through Taranza and Magolor.

“I’m gonna apply some of my growth product and it will be beautiful in no time!” Taranza’s eyes widened as Magolor walked over to one of the bags.

“The… what?”

“A small concoction I synthetized; it should accelerate cell growth. The tree will look a hundred years old in no time at all and the flowers will remain in bloom forever!”

A hand grasped Magolor's before he could grab a yellow and green sack. His fur bristled slightly in surprise, but when he realized who had grabbed him. The spider's eyes, white as powdered snow, were marked by uncertainty and alarm. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Magolor’s face was riddled by a puzzled glance. He, however, encouraged him to continue.

“We shouldn’t rush them. Isn’t it better to let things grow naturally?” Taranza secretly clenched his teeth, expecting his friend to roll his eyes at the corniness of the sentence, but that wasn’t the case. “Nonetheless, I can talk to them and encouraged the plants. They won't grow to full maturity, and one day they'll wither despite all the care in the world, but at least they'll have lived at their own pace.”

Magolor made no sound and just stared at Taranza with an indecipherable expression. The Floralian was about to apologize by force of habit, however, Magolor caught him off guard:

“Can you show me how to do that?”

Taranza smiled a little, then gently held Magolor's paws. He closed his eight eyelids and floated idly. There was a short wait before a kind of warmth enveloped them. Magolor was grateful that Taranza didn't see him flinch, the primitive part of his brain screaming at him to get away from approaching danger. He realized that his heart was beating rapidly and did his best to regulate it. The latter calmed down, seeming to follow a tempo. And as he felt better, Magolor tried to understand what was happening to him before realization struck.

His heartbeat was synchronized with Taranza's.

It was like Magolor’s entire being turned red as he felt an unfamiliar sensation seize him. He didn't have time to wonder about his feelings before the garden came alive. Plants specific to each biome sprang from the earth, as if animated by a will of their own. Or perhaps they already had one? Stems quickly sprouted and buds revealed their treasures, all in a magnificent show where the wizards were at the epicenter. The wisteria tree grew and, like a boa, wrapped itself around the wooden support, creating a cloud-like foliage of amethyst and cobalt at the end of its trunk.

The wonderment didn't last long, however, as the squeeze on his hands dropped drastically. Magolor had just enough time to see Taranza capsize before he caught him up, saving the spider from the fall. The gardener opened his eyes with difficulty, and in a tired voice reassured his friend.

“Sorry, the plants were really eager to bloom apparently. They may have asked more than I could reasonably give. Haha…”

Magolor didn't share his laughter, glaring at him as if he'd just escaped death. “You scared the Hades out of me, Ranza.”

His tone was unlike his usually cherry or teasing voice, adopting a seriousness that the tarantula had difficulty to believe existed inside the prankster.

“But at least, it was worth it. Right?” Taranza straightened up and staggered to one of the garden ledges.

“Not if it impacts your health.”

The two of them stared at each other. With a little hesitation, the feline resumed. “I just want you to be careful, okay? I know how dangerous it is to push yourself beyond your limits.”

Wonderful Taranza. You managed to ruin this perfect moment. Taranza, too busy cursing himself, didn't notice that Magolor had moved closer. He was handing him one of the glasses of lemonade the Lor had distributed at the start of their gardening session. With a thank, he engorged the icy liquid while Magolor did the same. Sitting on the wall, the two partners contemplated their work.

“Despite the fright you gave me, it was beautiful” Magolor whispered, not shifting his gaze from the tree in the center.

A part of Taranza really wanted this moment to last for eternity, but even he knew that life was not like his rosewater novels. He really wanted to tell Magolor what he'd been holding inside for a month now. To tell him how much he loved when he explained stuff, how much he admired his courage, how much he laughed at his dumb jokes, how stunned he was each time he crossed his golden gaze. Except it felt wrong.

His loyalty was to remain with Sect- Joronia.

Taranza had no right to love after what he'd done. Anyway, there was no way Magolor could be romantically interested in someone like him, right?

There was a clearing of throat and Taranza was torn from his thoughts. Magolor's gaze wavered a little as he stood next to him. With a little sigh, he stood up and faced him. “Taranza, there is something I wanted to tell you.”

An inter-dimensional pocket in the shape of a star opened up, and the feline took out a large tablet. On the screen was a myriad of text, running through dozens of paragraphs of rather complicated jargon. A contract.

Taranza raised an eyebrow, so Magolor, with a flick of his finger, scrolled to the end of the page. The end of the latter was made up of three symbols. Taranza immediately recognized the first. It was neat and elegant, and the name "Haltmann" was unmistakable. The second was just as easy to identify, forming Magolor with a gear shape on the first “o”. It was the last one that really posed a problem. It wasn't a name, but a giant paw, taking up almost half the page.

“Remember when I said earlier that I spent four weeks in the Forgotten Land because of a big project?” Taranza nodded attentively. “Well, there is this theme park called Wondaria…” The spider started immediately to understand.

“When we visited this world for scientific purposes, Susie and I came across Wondaria and I couldn't let the rusty thing go to waste, you know? We saw it as a good opportunity to forge links with the residents and expand our own enterprises. After a speech to the king of the Beast Pack, Leon, we were authorized to restore Wondaria to its former glory!”

Leon… Isn’t that the huge lion that King Dedede told me about? The big paw print makes more sense now.

Putting the tablet away, Magolor rubbed his hands together. "In conclusion, the renovation of Wondaria is a collective effort between my genius, Haltmann Works Company and the Beast Pack!”

Taranza looked at him in awe. That was quite shocking news, even by Popstarian’s standard. “I hope that I can visit it soon, then!” Smiled Taranza, baring his two oranges fangs.

Magolor returned to his more hesitant self. “Susie stayed there to oversee the end of the restoration, but there are still some tweaks to be made. We nearly finished and…” He nervously twitched his fingers. “Do you want join us?”

Taranza did not respond right away.

“Marx will joining be us!” spurted out Magolor, “Susie said he is a perfect "test guest" (and test dummy with his extreme resistance). The four of us! It will be another road trip like the good old days!”

Taranza really didn’t understand the “like the good old days”, being certain that they travel together not so long ago. Apart from that, he really was excited by the idea. Visiting the Forgotten Land with friends? That was one good way to end his vacation! What concerned him, however, was his lack of usefulness in all things mechanical.

“Don’t worry, leave all of this to me and Susie,” Reassured Magolor after hearing his worry, “I want you to decorate the park and remove plants that are potentially dangerous.”

Another intrusive thought made its way into Taranza's brain. His vacation would soon be over, and he had responsibilities as Floralia's ambassador. What's more, they were going to miss the Star Allies meeting next week!

“Don’t sweat over it, the time dilatation would give us cover. Plus, we have planned the Star Allies meeting to be hold in the Forgotten Land, the day before the great opening!” The Halcandran repressed a cackle at the thought of all the screams of joy (and the benefices) it would produce. Convincing Meta Knight hadn’t been easy, but the feline could sell time to a clock, and fire in hell.

How much had Magolor planned this, exactly?

Magolor coughed awkwardly, not sure if he should continue. Seeing how Taranza was appealed to the suggestion, he risked his shot. “So… do you want to join us? Nothing obliges you to come if you don't want to!”

To say that Taranza was somewhat perplexed by Magolor’s apparent reluctance to seek his help would be an understatement. Seeing him go from ecstatic to uncertain without particular reasons was not a good omen. Something was bothering him and Taranza didn’t like being left in the dark.

“Is there something wrong?”

Magolor took a few moments before reproving, seeking what to say, and especially how to say it. He gulped loudly, making Taranza seriously apprehensive.

“It’s just that you’re not know for going out at this time of the season” If there was a secret meaning to this, the arthropod did not get it. Magolor now avoided his gaze. “You had that tendency to shut yourself up for several days, in previous years.”

Taranza’s brain was in an outflow, trying to connect cryptic messages to past experiences. Something that pushed him to be alone for several days? A date that caused him to...

Oh.

His face turned pale, making Magolor know he had connected the dots. Taranza had not forgotten what there would be next week. How could he? It simply was… different than the last times. Weeks before that day, he tended to fall back into depressive episodes, lock himself in his home and cry until he fell from fatigue. Even after years, the pain was still there, and it probably wouldn’t stop until he died. His suffering about it had diminished over time, but to the point of not reminiscing about it a week before? That something Taranza was not used to, and to be honest, he wasn’t certain if he liked it or not. His bleak state of mind and that ever pursuing fragrance made all the more sense now: like a well-oiled clock, his brain knew unconsciously when that somber date was drawing near.

In his mind, the Star Allies meeting may have partially overshadowed what would happen two days after. Maybe his subconscious had been trying to spare him from the sadness by making him focus on something else. Something other than…

…

The anniversary of Queen Sectonia’s death.

“As it is the day after the opening night, we will be free to come back to Floralia if you want.” Magolor’s tone was intended to be compassionate but dripped with concern as to the state of his friend. “If you prefer to be alone, it’s perf-”

“I will come.”

Magolor’s left ear twitched. “You will?”

“It seemed that you’re in desperate need of gardener” teased Taranza, raising his scarf to hide his unconfident smile. “What friend would I be if I didn’t help you?”

The young pilot was about to add that he didn't have to do anything if he didn't feel it, but a voice interrupted him.

“>Then welcome aboard Taranza! Our departure for the [Forgotten Land] begins tomorrow at 10am.”

“TOMORROW!?”

Magolor cringed but quickly regained his composure as he tried to save face. “We are working on a tight schedule.”

“>’Disorganized schedule’ may be a better term.”

“Irrelevant. Installing the Dimensional Breacher on the Halberd took more time with how much Meta Knight was breathing down my neck. You know how I don’t like working under extreme stress!  And you know as much as me how Marx is difficult to track down.”

Taranza could not prevent himself from giggling slightly. “Well, I should start to pack my things then.” A quick glance at his pocket watch made him inwardly winced. In less than half an hour, it will be sunset.

“Don’t bring your whole palace back, Ranza. Magolor decided to be a killjoy and not allow toys when working.”

Taranza and Magolor jolted from surprise when the edge of the fake patio opened, revealing Marx. The short gremlin quickly made his way to the pair of wizards, grinning mischievously.

“Bombs are not toys, Marx.”

“Speak for yourself. Plus, you can materialize a bunch of them with magic.”

“For defensive purpose solely.”

“Because juggling with three of them to impress your visitors at Merry Magoland was for ‘defensive purpose’?”

A bead of sweat slid down Taranza's brown forehead, as his two friends faced each other in a dual worthy of the greatest cowboy movies. They certainly had never realized how much Taranza hated confrontation. Luckily, to his relief, they both broke into hysterical laughter. Wiping away a tear that had formed at the corner of his eye, Magolor turned to Taranza. “Do you want a lift to Royal Road?”

Taranza considered the offer for a few seconds. It was a tempting proposition, but one that was ultimately turned down. If there were no such pleasures as traveling aboard the Starcutter, the arachnid still had to warn King Dedede and some friends of his impending absence.

Magolor lowered his ears, slightly disappointed but understanding. “I guess you'll take it tomorrow anyway.” With obviously a simulated coughing, his behavior changed in an instant. He suddenly leaned over Taranza, his mouth close to his ear. “As for your payment for today…”

The movement pushed the older mage into his last entrenchments, but he did not reveal his inner gay panic. He could feel his breath against his skin. It was strangely agreeable. “I don’t want or need your money.”

He still took a step between them, just as a precaution. Magolor was about to start insisting, Taranza caught him off guard. “You’re my friend. The fun I had and the flora you’ve introduced me to will be my sole reward. End of the discussion.”

He emphasized the last statement, letting know Magolor he had made up his mind definitely. “And I suppose I will have my fair share after the opening of Wondaria.” Taranza made a wink while Magolor jokingly raised his hand solemnly, and after staring at each other, they both chuckled at their antics all the while Marx rolled his eyes.

Once he'd retrieved his briefcase and exchanged schedules, Taranza bid farewell to Magolor and Marx. The aristocrat gave one last glance at his creation -our creation- before exiting the indoor garden, the heavy door retracting behind him.

A comfortable silence settled in as Magolor continued to stare at the spot where his friend had been standing a few moments earlier. The gentle tranquility didn't last long, unfortunately for Magolor, as Marx leaned against him with a smug grin.

“Soooo… How was this date?”

Magolor thought his heart had left his chest as a faint blush now flushed his face. He moved sharply away from the Noddy, studying his expression with a touch of concern. Marx chuckled at having caused such a reaction to his friend, his wings unfolding as he convulsed.

“Haha, very funny Marx. Don't be jealous because I give attention to someone other than you.” The Halcandran crossed his arms, somewhat dismayed by his friend's words. Marx immediately stopped his mad laugh, now casting a convincing glance at his best friend. His tone was much more accusing than Magolor usually recognized.

“Why were you nervous all week about inviting him to garden and asking him to come to Wondaria?”

This stare… Surely Marx didn't think they were in love with each other? That was a ridiculous, senseless, and absolutely unfounded idea. Of course, Taranza was a pleasant, kind, and intelligent person, and Magolor spared Marx the details of the peace that seemed to reign in every room the earl found himself in… But love was just like in the movies, wasn't it? A kind of love at first sight that confirmed to both lovers that they were made for each other. If Magolor was in love, he'd surely know it!

Magolor groaned inwardly. It was just Marx messing with him, nothing more. “I apprehended his reaction with the timing of the anniversary of his beloved's death, t-that's all!” Damn stuttering!

Marx didn't seem convinced, so Magolor added a final argument. One that would guarantee him the win. “Besides, it's not as if Taranza is in love with me.”

The confident smile that the alien sported disappeared when Marx seemed to glare at him as if he was a profound idiot. It was becoming too mentally exhausting for Magolor to continue justifying himself. “I had a hard day, unlike you, so I’m going to sleep. Bye.”

He rounded the speechless Noddy and made his way slowly towards the exit. However, a familiar color caught his eye as he was about to leave and Magolor easily recognized Taranza's book in the middle of their floral paradise. His friend must have forgotten it when he left.

“Isn't it Ranza's?” Marx snapped out of his stupor and was staring curiously as Magolor delicately picked it up. Despite the glove’s fabric, Magolor felt the softness of the scarlet cover while his fingers caressed it. He raised his eyebrows as his fingertips scratched the copper-colored flower that embellished the book. The shape had been cautiously pasted on the cover. Taking a new look at the volume, Magolor observed it from all angles. Taranza hadn’t just bought the encyclopedia at a store, he had made it.

“Shouldn’t we call him?” Marx’s golden wing tugged Magolor’s robe, becoming impatient at the disinterest the other bore him. “He seemed in a hurry so I’m gonna send him a text saying he left it here; he’ll get it back tomorrow.” Magolor could not take his eyes off the volume as he leafed through the chapters. The calligraphy that covered the pages, the photos of plants so skillfully pasted together, the dozens of sketches representing the different states of maturity of a plant, the little personal notes scattered all around... What he had in his hands screamed only one word: passion.

The curiosity that had animated Taranza in front of all this alien vegetation had returned to him. While they had travelled together in space to find and destroy the remaining fragments of the Jamba Heart, Taranza never had time to actually study plants they had encountered. His amazement at all these new flowers was understandable, since he'd never seen any other than those from Popstar...

A splendid idea made its way to his brain as he exited the garden. Without a word, Magolor rushed off in the direction of the library, leaving a confused Marx behind.

Even if Taranza didn’t want to be paid for his service, Magolor sure knew that he will not be able to refuse a gift.

The pale moonlight shone through the gigantic stained-glass window, bathing the bifurcated staircase of the great hall in an almost dreamlike atmosphere. The black stone that made up the floor and pillars almost seemed to take on a bluish hue under the illumination of the night, the golden ornaments that detailed them gleaming in the peaceful darkness. Despite the absence of guards or candelabra lights, the palace that dominated Royal Road remained a source of soothing for Taranza.

Following the violent abolition of the monarchy, the People of the Sky decided to adopt a more democratic model and consequently abandoned the castle of their late queen. Having been forgiven for his actions during Sectonia's madness, and being the only person close enough to her, Taranza inherited the palace, though not without some misgivings on his part.  Although he knew this hadn't been the intention, the spider-like magician couldn't help feeling that this house had become his prison.

But this was no time for melancholy. Taranza sped through the corridor leading to the entrance hall. He knew the building like the back of his hand. He'd been through the palace, this Floralian architectural gem, with her time and again when they were kids, after all. The sorcerer shook his head. Focus Taranza. Rushing up the stairs, his suitcases in each hand, he inwardly cursed Magolor's organization. It was already bad that he had lost his own gardening book. With such a short window, Taranza had only been able to pack one beauty treatment case. At least he'd had time to fill his other suitcases with gardening supplies and more or less classy clothes.

Arriving at the foot of the suitcase mountain near the entrance, Taranza came to add the last remaining ones. It was already midnight, and he had just finished. Taranza breathed a long sigh of fatigue while the bag pile plunged him into the shadow alone, in the middle of this hall lit by natural light. Taking a long look at his watch, he grumbled loudly. If he went to sleep right now, he might have his eight hours of sleep.

Massaging his temple for a long moment, Taranza made his way up the imposing staircase, his eyes riveted to the floor. He hated the paintings on the walls. No, he loathed looking at them. After his friend's death, he hadn't had the strength to take down her portraits, or at least, those depicting her before her corruption.

Even without her representation being in his field of vision, without activity to occupy him, without work to kill himself at, his mind wandered to his old love.

Every pillar, every tapestry, every stone, reminded him of the times spent together studying, training, having fun. And with every second that brought Taranza closer to that infamous date, Joronia's face became clearer and clearer in his dreams. That's why he'd made up his mind to leave Floralia, to alienate himself in Magolor’s mission. All in the vein hope of not letting his guilt gnaw at him. And yet...

The glass doors opened and flapped in the wind, revealing a suspended garden. Taranza filched and climbed the last few steps before the resting level, he faced the opening into the dark night. The current of cold air that had forced its way through seemed to move through the vestibule like a floating snake, slithering between the huge pillars and along the arched marble ceiling, before wrapping itself around Taranza and leaving as it had come. The gale rustled the voluptuous curtains once last time as it passed, before disappearing into the night sky.

A shiver ran down his spine. She was calling him. Taranza studied the staircase to his right and thought for a moment. He could ignore all this, make a dash back to his room, lock himself in and sleep until his clock struck. He could blame what was happening to him on fatigue and sadness, which was all too likely to be the case. He could refuse her call, or that of the universe, and not confront what was out there. Remaining unsure if he should believe in his own fantasy for fear it delved into insanity, the spider knew that he could choose to not inflict that suffering on himself again.

Taranza stepped into the garden.

At this altitude, the air was frigid and Taranza almost felt his blood freeze. Alone in this overgrown garden, with only the towering moon to judge him, he made his way through the bushes and brambles. Taranza was inwardly grateful for having taken care of the park during all of these years, otherwise the thorns would not have left her coat and skin intact.

In the months following the disappearance of his beloved, Taranza had found himself unable to do anything. The simple task of getting out of bed had sometimes proved too much for him. The gardens surrounding the palace had become overgrown with weeds and brambles, the former servants having been dismissed by the new owner. Taranza had closed the doors of the castle to the rest of the world, rejecting the slightest outstretched hand that others offered him.

Taranza walked along the bushes and blossom bundles, thinking how many flowers people had come to lay down as a sign of respect. He teared up a bit. Although her insanity somewhat marred the end of her reign, Joronia was still being remembered as a compassionate and intelligent queen.

The magician had to push aside the branches of a shrub before finding himself in a small clearing.  There, Taranza held his breath when he saw the tomb at its center.

The surrounding area had been well tended and planted with flowers, reinforcing the well-kept appearance that was due to this place of remembrance. He made a mental note to hire one of his former peers, who had also served the queen in her time, to look after the garden during his prolonged absence.

Taranza took a few timid steps towards the tombstone, which consisted of a stone statue mounted on an imposing block of the same material. The person sculpted was not very physically different from Taranza, taking the form of an arachnid with horns, except for the elegant eyelashes and imposing crown adorned with a heart. A jeweled scepter was in her left hand to represent her justice, a rapier in the other to symbolize her courage.

JORONIA

QUEEN AND PROTECTOR

OF OUR FLOWERED PARADISE

MAY THE HADES BE KIND TO YOUR SOUL

Taranza read the words in complete silence. Gazing upward, he stared at the Dreamstalk proudly piercing the clouds, before coming back to the grave. There had been nothing left to bury.

His fingers caressed the damp grass in front of the tombstone. Taranza had made the point not to lay flowers, but rather to plant them around the grave. He couldn't bear to see their vegetal leaves wither. Her last resting place deserved to be alive and in bloom.

Yet, Dream Flowers, whose petals looked awfully similar to those at the tip of the Dreamstalk, had magically appeared all around, delicately covering the stone in different places. Their exact reason for being here was still a mystery, but Taranza liked to think it was a sign that Joronia loved her final home.

It took all Taranza’s will to no falter right there, however he remained strong. Keep it together.

After her… disappearance, crying on her grave had been a daily occurrence. He nearly became a hermit, alone with his grief, in this palace. Kirby had to come himself to bring an invitation from Dedede for a party or something, Taranza had forgotten, to make him go out. Still feeling indebted to the king and the pink ball, he hadn't had the strength to refuse and had dragged himself off to Dream Land, hoping to get it over with as quickly as possible. It’s there he met some particular friends: a quite intimidating yet empathic masked warrior, a charming kleptomaniac mouse, a superactive and prankish Noddy, a mysterious dimensional traveler, and so many more. Slowly but surely, Taranza had pieced himself back together with their help. During the Jambastion’s accident, the wizard had fight by their side and for the first time since so long, he had felt like his life was worth something. He may not have been able to save Joronia then, but there was still an entire universe to protect.

“Hello Joronia.”

The words weren't shaky or uncertain, simply straightforward and respectful, as if he were seeing an old friend again, which was the case, he guessed. “It’s been a long time since I came here.” A week. It’s been a week since he had visited her, as he watered the garden every Sunday. He could ask anyone else to do that, but the wizard preferred to fulfil this task himself. It was both an opportunity to come see her, and a way to hurt himself by being reminded of his actions. The stone did not reply.

Taranza found it difficult to continue the rest of this one-sided conversation. He knew how insane he must have looked, how probably unhealthy it may be, how pathetic he was…

But Taranza needed this. Her gracious voice, her cute laugh… Hearing Joronia had been like listening to a sweet melody. Now that she was no more, Taranza knew that he would never be able to hear her voice again. He will never be able to truly experience their nightly conversation ever again.

The magician swallowed hard. The announcement was going to be hard. “I’m leaving. Not for long, don’t worry!” he exclaimed quickly, as if he feared the reaction of the stone effigy. “A friend will water the garden, and I will be back for your annual commemoration, I promise.”

Taranza stroked awkwardly his scarf, not sure of what to say next. Should I...?

“I’m going to another dimension with some friends to build an amusement park. Crazy, I know” he giggled ineptly. “And I’m with this boy, Magolor… Remember the guy who travel between dimensions I told you about?”

Nibbling his lower lip, Taranza made sure he was alone.

“Well, I-I think that I…” He stopped himself. Was this wrong? Weren’t his feelings akin to treason, to betrayal? Had he the right?

His heart starting to tighten, Taranza gazed up at the starry sky. A black terrifying void, and yet, there were this small white dots that fought to survive, to illuminate the darkness. “You remember the time we sneak out when we were little? I practically beg you not to because we could be grounded.” He let out a weak chuckle, his icy breath turning into cold steam.

“But I accepted, in fear that you would hurt yourself in the dead of the night. I distinctly recall the flower field. They smelled so nice.” Taranza didn't turn away from the sky. His body tried to relax, not without some difficulty. “You showed me a shower of shooting stars. You said they were the universe’s tears and that those blessed by their presence could wish for anything.” His jaw tightened. “You never told me your wish, and I never told you mine. This what the condition for it to come true.”

Taranza approached the statue, his vision blurred. “I thought that if I never say anything, it will work.” He visually confronted the tombstone. Joronia’s face remained unfazed. “T-that night… Seeing you so happy… I knew I loved you.” Tears were now running down his cheeks.

“I-I wished for that moment to last forever. I wanted to be beside you forever. I hated myself for not telling you sooner.”

He buried his face between his gloves, before pulling an embroidered handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his face. His throat ached immensely. It was not the first time he had admitted this to the tombstone, but a part of him hoped it would be the last time tonight. 

“After your death, I was lost.” Taranza took a shacky breath, his eyes still red. “I tried to revive you countless times, but it never worked. I felt like my existence was meaningless…”

“… However, I met some new friends. They helped me and now I feel a little bit better… And, I know I keep pestering you about it, but I even helped to save the galaxy from an evil eldritch being!”

The corners of his lips turned up into a trembling smile. “I can only hope that whatever you are now, you’re happy and proud of me.”

“What I wanted you to know, is that I will always have you in my heart. You were my first friend, and the only woman I ever loved. But I…” For the first time, Taranza looked through the rocky eyes of the figure. “This Magolor, I talk about before… I-I think I like him. He is cute, very smart, a bit braggy at time yet so kind.”

“I think you would have like him.” Or maybe not, both of them were very stubborn when they thought they were right, so throwing them in the same room would probably result in an explosive combination.

“Should I love him?” Taranza knelt in front of the impassive figure. “Do I deserve this?” His hands rest on the earth and the monument. “After what I have done to you, I-I…” Taranza’s inner walls let loose.

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like a monster for what my actions have brought to you and our kingdom. Everyone keep saying that it wasn’t my fault, b-but” Taranza started to sob uncontrollably. “Please, tell me something! Anything! Speak! Curse my name! Forgive me!” he rested his head against the cold gravestone. There was no response.

A tear rolled down his face, crashing against the petal of one of the flowers clinging to the ivy. There was a spark, and for a moment the Dream Flower seemed to glow. Taranza stopped weeping, unsure of what had happened. There was a second of hesitation, as the plant seems to be expanding in the direction, the stim growing longer like it was offering itself. Then, the spider, with all the precaution in the world, picked her up. The pink and yellow bud seemed to soften him. The flower was so beautiful and its perfume so bewitching...

He snapped out of this trance, realizing what a pitiful state he was in. Rising to his feet and dusting himself off, Taranza contemplated the plant. Like her sisters, she radiated such energy!

“I will take you with me” Taranza was unsure to who he was talking: Joronia, the flower or himself? “This way, we will be together while I’m away. You will see landscapes beyond this dimension, it will be beautiful.” Carefully, he placed his new companion in his hair, wedging it close to his right horn.

Taranza raised his scarf a little. The breeze was surprisingly glacial for summer. The ever-present looming moon made him realize just how tired and out of his mind he truly was. He was chasing a ghost in the middle of the night, begging for her forgiveness and blessing in an empty garden.

With one last goodbye to the grave, Taranza set off to head back inside. His mind was cloudy by weariness, adrenaline, grief yet it was running at full speed.

He thought about whether his old friend had forgiven him.

If she wished him to move on.

If she hoped that he would be happy.

Pulling out his phone to illuminate the darkened hallway, Taranza noticed an unread notification on the screen. He would have put the message off until tomorrow if he hadn't seen the sender's name. With more speed than he cared to admit, Taranza clicked on it.

It was a selfie. Magolor had the phone in one hand, and his lost volume in the other! The Halcandran was posing, doing a V sign while gripping the book with his remaining fingers. In the background, Taranza could perceive Marx on a table (which would have driven Magolor up the wall if he was looking behind him), examining a suspicious pile of colorful books.

Hey, you forgot your encyclopedia here! Don’t worry, I will protect it with my claws while waiting for your return, lol. Take a good night of rest, you deserve it!   ∑ =  )

Taranza felt himself smile as he stared at the cat emoticon. Climbing the stairs to his room, he felt more at ease. His cherished book was between good paws.

Perhaps this half-work/half-vacation will allow him to relax about the upcoming events.

For once during this horrendous part of the year, Taranza was not filled with dread thinking about tomorrow.