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As Franziska descended from the mountain, there was less and less snow. There was a light dusting at the base, but it would not stay long enough to pile up to the degree of the temple much further up.
It had been a week since that trial, and for some reason, Franziska still stayed in the country, finding herself in a nearby meadow that wasn’t too far from the park.
She kicked some rocks against the grass, still contemplating the events of that trial.
I was intending on staying in Germany, I never wanted to come to this country again… Franziska thought. Hmph… I had to reschedule a meeting with Interpol for this… because that foolish attorney had fallen off that bridge and Miles Edgeworth insisted we come here…!
Franziska looked up, from where she was standing, she could see what was left of Dusky Bridge. Her stomach dropped when she took into account the deep drop of the gorge she was in, near level with the raging river.
You’re lucky to be alive, Phoenix Wright… you madman , Franziska thought, before she mindlessly wandered to his assistant, the spirit medium who seemed to be much more than she ever considered before.
Franziska’s stomach rolled and a shiver ran its course down her spine. She hugged herself and shut her eyes, her mind wandering to that inner temple on the other side of the gorge. The weight of Maya’s solitude truly weighing down Franziska’s shoulders.
You’re lucky that you didn’t die that night, Phoenix Wright! Franziska thought. You would have broken her poor heart!
A gentle breeze ran through her hair, the sky turned gray and there were a few droplets falling from the heavens onto the prosecutor. Despite all logic, Franziska never moved, for the first time in her life, she simply stood still and took in the world around her.
At her feet were a small grouping of white flowers, with yellow imprints, identical to the shape of the petals, on the inside. Their pure colors contrasted against the drab grays and muted greens of the mountain, flowers beckoning spring and a new beginning.
Franziska raked her memories to see if she could point them out, remembering the botany books that she had memorized and entertained herself with during her childhood.
“Primrose…?” Franziska supposed as she gently inspected it.
She imagined Maya in the field, primroses decorating her hair with intricate braids, smiling brightly as she lived without a care, her dark eyes sparkling with delight.
Without another thought, Franziska bent down and plucked as many flowers as she could. Dirt and mud covered her gloves as one bunch became two and two to three. More and more droplets fell from the sky, the air turning colder and harsher, the sky was darker, nearly black and the rain fell faster and faster.
Shivering, she unpinned her brooch and untied her bow, tying the flowers together as she trudged through the mud back to her car.
I’ll deal with the mess later, hopefully I can clear the mud out… Franziska thought as she started the vehicle, the heat a welcome presence. Hopefully the staff will let me in today…
She didn’t care how soaked she was, or how the rain poured and poured. Franziska didn’t care how insane she looked when she forced her way through the lobby, flowers in hand, as she demanded to be let into the spirit medium’s room.
Perhaps no one wanted to deal with the crazy, soaping wet, whip wielding madwoman.
Maya’s room was dimmed and empty whe Franziska entered seeing that she was still sleeping, an iv was hooked up through her arm getting her the fluids that she needed. Despite all of this, Franziska noted that she looked rather peaceful.
Beside the bed, on an end table, there was a vase filled with dried up flowers. She took the old bunch out and replaced it with the freshly picked flowers. She tucked the white ribbon in, part of her hoping, desperately, that Maya would recognize what it was and who left it for her.
Franziska started out of the room and dimmed the lights lower. She looked back once more to the medium and sighed, noting that Maya smiled in her sleep.
“Rest well, Maya Fey,” Franziska said solemnly as she closed the door.
She left the medium to her rest, with gentle rain falling against the windowpane and the primroses bringing some much needed life into the room.