Tavon stood among the men in circle and watched this old man called Jormen. The man was a bit to loud for his taste, but it was a man of skill and it called for wonder. "This might be amusing," he tought while smiling. 

In the pyre, close to the old man called Jormen a rose started to grow. It did not seem to be harmed by the flames. It grew till it was clearly visible. First the color of the petals were only red, but then started to take colors from the fire. Each of the petals changed to a different color presented in the fire. "The bard should be able to figure out who made it. Let's see what he does with it."