Avon's Drabbles by Avon

Prince of Golden Flowers

It was here he fell - he of the golden hair and golden heart. He fell in flames and darkness against a being of ancient evil, fell to save those of us that fled. The eagles brought us back his body – burnt and bloody and broken. We laid it on the turf here and raised a mound over it. He was a prince of the house of the golden flowers – and the golden flowers came to be his shroud.

Here, here is one of his flowers. Tuck it into your hair, child, and remember the one who died for you.