The Hibiscus Maiden

long ago, while strolling through her favorite flower field on Earth, Solanna, Goddess of Emotion—notoriously prone to dramatics—shed yet another sparkling tear. The drop fell onto the bright, unsuspecting hibiscus flower beside her.

Solanna knelt, caressing the red-petaled bloom with warmth before pressing a gentle kiss to its petals. The tear, shimmering with divine essence, drifted downward—but before it could meet the earth, Amara appeared.

A woman as radiant as a flame, adorned in robes of deep crimson.

The goddess smiled at her old floral companion before vanishing without a word, leaving Hibiscus to sigh deeply.

Through the millennia, with each of her blooming moons, Hibiscus and Solanna had cultivated a love that was both deep and enduring. She knew the goddess would not have conjured Amara into existence without purpose—surely, she was to aid the realm of mortals.

Still, Hibiscus mused, it would be nice if the goddess let her in on the grand schemes every now and then.

The red blossom turned to Amara, who stood dazed but, even in her bewildered state, was utterly breathtaking.

"As you were born from my essence," Hibiscus began, "you do not have much time. We fade after one moon. So, what do you believe your purpose is? What will be your legacy?"

Amara pondered for a moment, but no helpful thought came to her.

Suddenly parched, she strode—not as gracefully as one might expect—toward a nearby pool of water. Perhaps, after quenching her thirst, the answer would come.

She drank deeply, fervently, then gazed at her reflection in the rippling surface.

“I believe I am here to bring more beauty and joy into the world,” she said at last, her voice as soft as the flower’s petal.

Hibiscus sighed again, a patient, knowing sound.

"You have the power to grow, Amara," the flower replied. "So grow as you see fit."

Amara ventured into the nearby village, a place notorious for feuds and disagreeable neighbors. 

She was eager, ready to bring change.

And for a time, it seemed she had.

Her vocal charms halted pointless quarrels, her voice as sweet as music to those who heard it.

Her graceful hands wove enchantments through the wilds, urging nature to grow without limit.

Nature’s glory—unstoppable.

"More beauty, less violence," she thought, pleased with the seemingly good work she had done.

Yet, despite her noble intentions, Amara’s efforts failed to prevail.

Her voice grew hoarse—what was once a melody became mere noise. The villagers, weary of her charms, resumed their squabbles, louder and more spiteful than before.

Worse still, her enchantments spiraled beyond her control.

Nature, now knowing no boundaries, grew wildly unchecked. Fragrant florals overwhelmed the village, crushing homes and pathways beneath their weight.

And Amara, unwittingly, had summoned bees—so many bees.

Drawn by the endless nectar, they swarmed in unimaginable numbers, their ceaseless buzzing driving the people to the brink of madness.

Instead of peace, she had unleashed chaos.

Amara had become a whirlwind of beauty and mayhem.

She couldn’t understand it.

“More beauty, less violence,” she whispered to herself, standing at the edge of town, watching chaos unravel.

She never stopped trying.

And yet… nothing changed.

As the day passed, Amara felt herself fading. Her spirit, once so vibrant, was now drained and fragile.

Sitting atop a nearby hill, she hugged her knees to her chest, gazing down at the frenzied village below.

A deep sadness washed over her as she sat beside Hibiscus. She knew, soon, they would both be gone from this world.

Amara began to sob… quite dramatically.

“What have I done with my short life,” she wailed, “other than live as a beautiful distraction? I gave them everything I had!”

Her sparkling tears pooled around her as she wept into her knees.

Hibiscus, ever patient, let out a small laugh—not at Amara herself, but at the stark resemblance between Solanna, the goddess, and the tearful maiden before her.

Amara lifted her head from her shimmering sorrow, ready to scowl—but then, she hesitated.

She gazed at her floral mother, and her heart skipped a beat in quiet appreciation.

Hibiscus stood tall, unburdened by the weight of the world.

Her petals—soft, yet unapologetically radiant—swayed gently in the wind.

A flower that took her time to bloom.

Though her days on Earth were brief, she lived vibrantly, bringing joy simply by existing as herself.

In that moment, Amara realized—she had never taken the time to truly know herself.

Her own hopes, dreams, and desires had been buried beneath the weight of others' needs.

And now, she was utterly exhausted.

Hibiscus, never one for subtlety, spoke plainly.

“Humans have been known to be incessantly petty. This will not change in one moon.”

But sensing the maiden’s vulnerability, the flower softened.

“Chaos is the way of the world for now. Peace comes when arrogance is set aside, and nurture takes its place.”

Amara turned her gaze back to the chaos below, but Hibiscus nudged her gently, smirking as she added,

"How can you bring beauty or joy to others when you’ve never cared for yourself?"

Amara sniffled, her voice barely above a whisper,

“I just wanted to help.”

Hibiscus inhaled deeply, her petals swaying as she gazed out at the horizon, sensing their final moments in this land.

Then, with a gentle breath, she spoke,

“Your presence gave them joy,
however brief. Beauty,
like precious moments,
is fleeting—meant to be cherished.
But love yourself first, daughter,
for that is the most sacred love affair.
Grow yourself, as you see fit.”

Amara closed her eyes and lifted her chin to the sky, her tears halting midstream as she choked back a laugh.

“Mother, my love shall shake the heavens.”

With a soft sigh, the maiden awkwardly yielded to the earth, her form folding into stillness as the ruby petal—once touched by her goddess-mother’s tear—brushed against her cheek.

Both Amara and Hibiscus were satisfied in their stillness.

Then, in a flash of red, they vanished from the realm.

The thunderous bees, the towering foliage—gone.

All that remained was the memory of Amara.

the maiden’s greatest impact on the world came not from anything she had said or done, but from the simple fact that she had vanished so quickly.

As time passed, tales of Amara’s beauty, love, and fleeting appearances spread far and wide.

In her honor, Hibiscus tea blends—as rejuvenating as Amara’s presence—were brewed and shared, each cup a celebration of her spirit.

Her legacy, entwined forever with Hibiscus, is cherished for its brief yet radiant bloom.

Together, they stand as a reminder to embrace the transient, beautiful things in life.

It is said that if you brew hibiscus tea beneath a full moon, you may hear Amara’s joyful voice dancing on the breeze—

Lifting your spirits,
reminding you to live brightly,
love yourself deeply,
and cherish each passing moment.



Until the next story unfolds,

Yours in tea & tales,

~Faerie Good~