Our stories never become us, we become them. The princess' least favorite story to tell was the story of the flowers. The best lessons come from nervousness, and that's exactly how the flower had made the princess feel. The flower had been with the princess for ages, and the princess never got rid of it out of pure vanity. She had thought the flower was beautiful and that her petals added something great to existence.

The princess had told the flower to not get too close though, because the princess had too much light for the delicate flower, and flowers must be cared for gently and developed over time. Her favorite flower however, was quite stubborn and whispered lies to the princess, telling her not to worry, she could take the heat. The princess allowed her in.

The flower saw the light and got greedy. The flower got too close, trying to absorb all the light without first allowing each ray to pass through all her being. The princess cautioned her constantly, but the flower thought she was brave. The flower got too close. All of the princess' protectors came in, they knew the princess herself was not a destroyer, so they came in to try and uproot the flower. The flower tried to grow, became a vine, wrapped around the princess, and tried to succumb her.

The entire civilization was terrified, how could they all survive without the princess and where would all the knowledge go if she passed? The princess allowed the vines to grow on her, to penetrate her deeply, to become her. Everyone worried about the princess, they were terrified. The princess had had enough of this fear. She had toned down her light to let the flower exist peacefully. Vines can never become trees. In one swift move, the princess unveiled all of her light. The flower stood no chance. The flower instantly dried up, dehydrated to a crisp. While the light still shone, the remains eventually charred up and fell to the princess' feet.

The flower remains would now feed the trees. The princess never really liked flowers, and as she stood naked in front of the world, she proclaimed that she did not need flowers to make her beautiful. She was naked, but no longer vulnerable. She was beautiful, and the princess had known what the flower was trying to do all along. She had charred the strongest flower and vine in existence, and nobody could ever do that to her again. There was no winning or losing, no dichotomy or right way, and everything must be recycled to feed the earth someday. The flowers could no longer exist among the trees.