Supposedly, over a hundred years ago, Death visited an individual in the country. He told that individual that he would be later proposing to his bride, and he would do so with all the spider lilies that could grow upon the island. Thus, the individual and the generations of their family were tasked with cultivating the lycoris noirges that surround the perimeter of Arpéchéle.

They did so despite the fact that the flowers bring death upon any who trample them, or pick them, or otherwise disturb them. In our country, they grow pitch black...

[and scien is thoughtful as he looks upon the bright red patch, something wistful and thoughtful in his gaze]

... without question, they bring disaster.

And yet they grow.