The Umbral Rose
A Fantasy One Shot
Thanks to for his prompt “don’t speak” on the 27th June 2025 for Flash Fiction Friday.
‘Do not speak. Speaking makes them aware. If they’re aware they will grow fearful. If they’re fearful they become wrathful and will punish those who trespass upon their domain.’
Kalamaster Luan’s words returned, unbidden, to Yuhara as they always did upon entering the Spirit Realm. She trod silently, clutching her satchel, the infinite black sea sending out soundless ripples beneath her feet. Soundless and never-ending. The ripples of Kalamaster Luan and all the Kalamaster’s before him still echoed through the Spirit Realm beyond even the furthest reaches of the Spirit Walkers. Yuhara wondered if others traipsed the distant plane and had seen their ripples for she had never seen anyone else’s. Perhaps our ripples neutralise other ripples, she thought, fiddling with the secateurs slotted into the front pouch of her satchel.
Yuhara looked behind her. The infinite darkness stretched in all directions, faint slivers of white, like abandoned cocoons, passed by, blind to her trespassing. A number gathered around the gash in the veil, the doorway she had used, that even now was shrinking at a pace so slow she could not see it but each time she turned round it would be smaller until it closed and she would be trapped forever in the Spirit Realm.
‘Make straight for the umbral rose. Do not dawdle. Once found do not remove the entire plant but only take a cutting, or a few leaves or petals, never the whole flower or stem. Then return by the most direct route. You will not have time to admire the sights.’
Kalamaster Luan’s words rang in her mind again. Yuhara hurried on, knowing the umbral rose to be close for the sweet scent of its petals tickled her nose.
Yuhara froze, her breath caught in her throat.
A bone white spirit lethargically crossed her path, the top half of its curled up leaf-like form leaning ahead of its base which trailed in a thin white vapour to nothing. She held her breath as the wandering soul passed her. She exhaled, a slow and careful action to minimise any potential noise. Once certain its tail had gone she continued on, eyes peeled.
The umbral rose glowed ahead of her. Its five petal flower a radiant honey colour glowed against the vast black background, its stem was dark at the base of the flower and fell to a ghostly blue-grey and then to nothing near the surface of the ever present shallow waters.
Yuhara glanced back to her doorway without stopping. She turned and halted, her nose almost touching a spirit as it descended from the aether. A squeak of air escaped her throat, like the sound of a dormouse. The freshly formed apparition grew crimson, her squeak echoing through the infinite realm. Yuhara tried to reach the solitary flower. Sidestepping the spirit and continuing a few steps before finding two more manifesting ahead of her. A third appeared to her right.
‘First sign of trouble. Run.’
Kalamaster Luan had told her. Yuhara clutched her satchel and ran. The shallow wet-less water splashed with a bell-like resonance. The field of white spirits ahead and behind her blossomed like a poppy field. She ran as fast as she could.
Spirits bled from the aether, their gaping maws stretching from top to tail with wispy edges ready to devour her. Yuhara side stepped one, dove under another, and jumped over a third as it rose from the murky shallow sea.
The tear in the veil was closing, the glimmer of the peach blossoms beyond fading fast. She sprinted for the portal, the spirits almost surrounding it. It did not matter from which side she approached, the passageway always looked the same to her and so she circled the spirits until she found a small gap.
Yuhara dove.
Her satchel brushed against the crimson hue of a fearful, rage filled, spirit. A section of the apparition dispersed, her satchel turned to ash, and the ghost reformed, redder and more jagged than before.
Yuhara’s vision blurred like diving under water and she landed heavy on damp ground, peach blossom flittering overhead.
‘You do not have the umbral rose,’ Kalamaster Luan’s voice rang out through the grove.
The branches of blossom caressed the sun and sky above Yuhara. She stood, the strap of her satchel falling to the ground, her secateurs were gone too. She would have to forge a new pair. ‘I failed,’ she whispered, her voice a dry croak.
‘I know,’ Luan stamped his staff into the earth and ground it like a pestle.
‘I am sorry.’
‘There will be other chances. The fabric between our realm and the Spirits’ is thin here still, worry not. Prepare yourself for the next attempt,’ Luan stood, patting the dirt with his staff.
Yuhara brushed herself off and hurried to the Kalamaster’s side, offering her arm to guide him. He thanked her and they returned to the monastery to inform the others and to await the next parting of the veil.
Many thanks for reading, if you have not yet started reading my latest novella Mage Hunter now is the time:
