His pale fingers expertly wove together petals from the century-old roses that adorned the garden, forming a delicate rose.With a grace that defied his age, Aro approached a lone figure, whose eyes held a hint of weariness.

As he presented the intricately crafted rose, he spoke with a tone that resonated beyond the throne room's grandeur...

"A rose, my dear, plucked from the heart of time itself."