Henchman builds a memorial garden for Hero. It’s not quite what it seems.
////
Even Supervillain found the request a bit odd, but following Superhero’s death, he was quite spirited.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. It’s part of your ‘plant religion,’ isn’t that right?” Supervillain smiled. “It would be cruel of me to prevent you.”
He seemed to care quite a lot about cruelty for a man who had partaken in great bloodshed not hours before.
“Thank you very much sir.”
Expectedly, Superhero’s burial did not draw Supervillain’s interest. Once he had ripped Superhero’s power core from his chest, he needed no further proof of his demise, and held the jewel high before the masses in the same hour that Hero rolled Superhero’s lukewarm body into a shallow plot.
He whispered a small prayer and set a thumb-sized seed in Superhero’s hollowed chest.
////
“It doesn’t look like much.” Supervillain commented, stooping over Henchman as he kneeled in the dirt.
“It must grow first.” Henchman sighed.
He patted the earth before turning to appraise Supervillain. In the wake of Superhero’s death, he did not call upon Henchman once, perhaps too engaged to remember he had a servant at all. The only new addition to his person was a gleaming necklace which held a portion of Superhero’s jewel-heart.
Supervillain likely viewed the pendant as a spoil of war, but Henchman stilled as the jewel gleamed in the daylight. How strange it was to keep the remnant of an enemy’s heart so close to one’s own.
“Well, go and clean yourself, will you? I have things for you to do.”
Henchman rose and swept the dirt off his shins. He took one last glance at the grave before slinking after Supervillain.
////
“Where do you keep the other pieces?” Henchman asked, glancing at the pendant.
Today, Supervillain wore a low cut shirt that showcased his own jewel-heart. The gem was slim, almond-shaped.
Before Superhero, Henchman had never cared for the jewels. To him, they represented a departure from nature, a physical manifestation of humanity’s hubris and vanity.
And yet, they contained much more life than Henchmen had imagined. As Supervillain stood, the jewel responded to his breath, glowing with a small internal light. Sparks ran beneath the surface like errant minnows as Supervillain squinted down at Henchman.
“I keep them in my jewelry box.”
“Really? It seems a shame you wouldn’t display them. You’ve always had a good taste for decor.”
“Perhaps, I should.” Supervillain paused and tapped his jewel thoughtfully. “I would hate to have mine go unnoticed.”
“Yes, certainly.”
“Well, now it must be done.” He waved a hand. “Go fetch the pieces from my quarters and send it off to a craftsmen. I’m sure you know enough to do it competently.”
////
Henchman had to bury the shattered jewels.
When he held them in his hand, he could only think of dirt, damp and dark beneath his nails. He dreamed of mycorrhizae, dragging him down in silken, white nets, and of writhing worms. He dreamt until he could taste grit and iron in his mouth.
As soon as Henchman obtained a replica of Hero’s heart-jewels, he passed them off to the messenger that would transport them to the craftsmen. Once the messenger crested the hill, Henchman darted to his garden.
The plants were now lush and green, and exceedingly verdant overtop where Superhero was laid to rest. Henchman disappeared into the growth and scooped the a small pit out, heedless of roots. He dumped the jewels into the rich earth and scarcely breathed until they were covered.
Kneeling over Superhero’s body and wreathed in flora, Henchman whispered another prayer.
////
The fake jewels had been strung into a chandelier and it was a splendid addition to Supervillain’s office.
After planting the jewels, the garden flourished for a year.
Then, abruptly, in the middle of spring and during a stint of good weather, the leaves yellowed and curled. Henchman, who never so much as let a plant wilt in his life, knelt before the thin and sick flora in disbelief. As he rolled the soil between his fingers, he was surprised to find it dry and loose.
Dead. Void of microbes, water and essential nutrients.
“Looks like your little ritual didn’t work out.”
Henchman flattened both his palms to the soil and smiled.
“On the contrary,” he said, “I believe it served its exact purpose.”
