When the Shedite comes to see her, Dey's first thought, as always, is of death. It's her private shame, her choir's private shame when they serve the Word she does: It's a demon; it must be killed.

But this one is honourable, and the choking weight of her first Oath lifts on seeing that.

She is old for a Malakite of Flowers. Most of them beind their leaves to the ground in the end, weighed down by both their Oaths and Lady Novalis's dictates. Novalis is sad but understanding as she lets them go to serve other archangels, better suited to their choir's needs. Novalis is not one to drive any to breaking.

Dey was young once, fledged within the hour, two oaths nestled between her breasts. She remembers the feel of her wings arching behind her, the power and strength that crawled dark through her body.

"Stand closer, dear, I need some of your shade."

Dey had done so, watching Novalis's bent form as bony fingers dug in the dirt. The hole was five feet deep now, following the tap root of the dandelion Novalis was slowly extracting.

"My Lady," Dey ventured, "Wouldn't it be simpler to cut it aboveground, or simply pull it out?"

Novalis dug quietly for a long moment. "Do you think it is wrong for me to weed?"

The question was so out of the blue that Dey had started. "It is necessary. They crowd and kill the other plants."

"Yes," Novalis had said. "IT's trying so hard to live that it hurts indiscriminately. Given nothing to war with, it will grow peacably enough." She paused, then sat back on her heels and smiled up at Dey. "Besides, unless you get all of a dandelion's root, it will go again. Pulling it or cutting it does not solve anything. This takes longer, and you look fairly foolish doing it, but it gets the job done."

Dey had nodded and Novalis had pondered her a moment before returning to her task. "Congratulations on your fledging, Dey."

"Thank you, Lady."

"You are a tree, my sweet, and your Oaths are a storm. Learn to bend."

"Yes, Lady."

Dey watches the Shedite's host shift uncomfortably before her. Six oaths shine dark where she can see them.

So she smiles and offers the Shedite a gardener's hand.