Pacific Islanders are about to perform a ceremony for a young girl and others who are about to bloom into adulthood. For Ecne Cconni, her life is about to be an unconventional flower to bloom earlier than others by force.
Today is the day before one of the most celebrated traditions in the history of the Seül Tribe. Within the preceding month, a mother of the village will plant a tree in the center of the village, which is referred to as the court. After the eldest daughter of this mother matures, she is subject to the family tree. Prayer for spiritual and physical endurance is the next step in the tradition. The mother delivers the daughter to the family tree. The daughter will make a spiritual connection with the tree’s feeding from the orient. Once the flower blooms, she must then be chosen by the eldest son of a different family. The blossom is then given to the young man of whom the daughter has been selected.
One of the mothers glides between two sectaries whom give no regard to her tree bearing intrusion. Her name is Tsula. The sun-kissed skin that wraps her body is hardly trademark for her tribe in this particular part of the pacific. The conventional use of nature to express religious concepts divides their people from the current social cliché. Tsula carries this small tree to the center of the village. It’s leaves are almost wilted and dried; she has been carrying the tree for quite some time.
Far into the night, a boy lies on his mat with his eyes staring into the deep blue night. His family named him Amon. Just across the way, he could see a fluttering tree, planted by a young girl’s mother. He watches the tree glisten with a silver luster. The moon was full and purged the night of suspicion. Amon watches a young girl, Ecne Cconni, cross the residential section of the village and into the center. Her tree is aloft all other trees in her eyes. Ecne’s silhouette is inscribed upon the gray, star-lit dust beneath her.
The moon beams through the distinct crevice- which gives him a wide pan of vision -and unto Amon’s eye. He watches diligently as she steps toward the tree. Ecne lifts her arm. Her wrist is limp. With a dangling hand, she lifts her finger to touch the swollen bud, resting between a leaf and the stem. Amon rolls over on his stomach and chest to maintain a steady view. His rolling over causes a small noise. Ecne looks around solemnly. She sees nothing, so she returns to probing her tree in curiosity.
Ecne lifts both arms and gently cups the bud in her hands. The moonlight gives a silent glisten upon the moist leaves. She breathes slowly as she whispers her family prayer. While chanting, Ecne gently peaks through her slightly open eye lid. Upon doing so, the bud begins to quiver.
Amon rises to his knees and slips past his two sisters and his mother. He now stands in the door way of his make-shift home. Under the shadow of a full grown tree, he watches her every action.
Ecne stepped back in awe. She was about to witness one of the most significant event in her life. Ecne assumes she will witness this alone; which would indeed be a great opportunity in any young woman’s life.
Amon slowly steps towards her from the veil of the large tree. His intentions are to inquire upon the motives of a young girl out so late with no chaperone.
Ecne is baffled by the slight opening that had already begun to form. She begins smiling. The stars above can’t deny her of the greatest gift of all, nor can any other forest or ocean; this is her moment. Seven unique pedals open in a crescendo of life. Adherently lining the edge of each pure white pedal, a phosphorescent hue illuminates what little air it can reach. Soon after the pedals are established, the center of the bloom produces a thin stamen, the tip being powdered with a red material. This is the most unique experience the earth could provide for Ecne.
Amon reaches out to the girl and taps her on the shoulder. She quickly turns around, trying to disrupt the view of her newly blossomed flower. Amon asks, “What are you doing out so late?” Ecne isn’t big enough to cover the whole flower.
Amon sees one pedal and then another. “Is this what they look like?” he is astonished. Ecne humbly responds, “This is what mine looks like.” he sees the whole flower for what it is; a wonder in the lexicon of life.
In the gray and blue village, no one makes a noise, except the two in the court. Amon asks Ecne quietly, “May I touch it?” he visualizes it moving with a glowing stride of soft light. “Not at all,” Ecne is almost offended “I have yet to even touch it!” Amon sighs and looks to her.
“I am sorry,” he reaches for her hand “I have not told you my name.” she swats his hand away. “I don’t want to know your name.” she retorts firmly. He steps back quickly. “You better not get anywhere near it.” Ecne demands. Her voice gets slightly more audible.
“If It weren’t for me, this tree wouldn’t even be here!” Amon exclaims. He knows that he didn’t plant it.
Ecne looks to him, “You mean my mother didn’t plant it?” Amon looks to her hesitantly. Quietly, “Yes,” He acts as though he is ashamed of her mother’s actions, even though she is completely innocent “I don’t know where she was, but I was asked to do it in her stead.” she looks down in shame. The glow of the flower reflects off of the gray earth below them.
“If only I hadn’t been away with my lame sister…” Ecne looks up at her flower. The essence of the red stamen scatters in the air.
“It’s okay now,” he looks to Ecne and grabs her hand “I am here for you.” she looks into Amon’s eyes, ignorant of the guile which stands before her.
Ecne lifts her hand quickly and caresses a pedal of the flower. “I see you have touched it,” He smiles and steps forward “my turn, right?” Ecne stands prostrate, only shoulder level to him.
“I have little use for it,” her heart drops “my family bare false witness to their own doing.” Amon stands between Ecne and her detached treasure.
Slowly, he begins to touch and to inspect it. She watches Amon reach for the stem and tries to stop him.
“Don’t take it!” she shouts. Amon pushes her and pulls the flower from it’s place. “I want it, and I will have it.” Amon pursues his envious lust for things he cannot have.
“Stop!” Ecne attempts to reprimand him for his thievery “You don’t deserve it-” he swats her down and stands before her with the quintessence of wrath.
“Stop being such a prude,” he begins to walk away as she lays in the ground, covered in silver dirt “you wanted to get rid of it anyway.”
Ecne Cconni lay on the ground, watching the merciless baron fade away into the night. Her arms, legs, and head ache. In the distance, she can see the glow of a pedal. Ecne rises to approach the remnant of grace. She stands before a lone pedal, glowing ostentatiously in the unforgiving night. Ecne reaches down and lifts the relic. Her tears reflect the red glow as she begins to mourn her loss.