Cimmy couldn’t figure out what flowers those were, but their fragrance was deeply anchored into her memories, a strange thing, really, and she suddenly realized it was a scent from her Garden, roses, she was sure of it, even if she’d never smelled roses before.

Many of the afflictions that visited upon their village came unannounced, always met with helpless hand wringing, and Cimmy had made it her life’s mission to figure out how to heal as many of them as possible, and since she couldn’t do that from a safe distance, she prayed for luck and went in.