Hela's steps halted in front of the Corridor Fragrance Garden. The wind brushed past clusters of lilac flowers on the trees, scattering a few snow-like petals onto her temples, reminiscent of the pear blossoms from her homeland that fell in the hair of the witches in March. Her uplifted fingers hovered in the air, with an almost imperceptible tremor upon closer inspection — those lilac trees planted in scattered patterns were an exact match with the scenery of her homeland, down to the way the petals under the sun resembled a glass lantern.
