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Solanaceae · Posted: Sun May 09, 2010 7:07 pm Post subject: Promises Kept

Solanaceae stepped from under the waterfall and grimaced as the chill air raked across her, covering her body with needle like sensations. It was a fine evening, exactly seven days after the human celebrations of Beltane, the night that had become holy to her people so many generations ago. The veil was thin tonight, the threatening storm gathering just on the edge of wildness, and the moon moved toward the fullness that would claim in for the next three nights. The perfect moment for her intentions.

Using a black silk ribbon, Solanaceae tied back her vibrant green hair and then knelt just beyond the sparkling waters. Several jars and bottles rested upon the grey stone close by, each that had been carefully prepared over the weeks leading up to this rite. She opened the widest jar and scooped a handful of course cream from inside, grinding the substance further between her palm before rubbing it over her body.

Step by step she preformed the cleansing, one by one coating herself with the herbs and oils that had been used by holy women among the fae for longer than anyone knew. She was her tribe now, her sacred circle, and even if it meant she did these things alone, she would not let the ways of her people fall from her life, be stripped from her memory. No matter how much of herself she must give to Oblivion, as long as she had a shred of sanity remaining, these sacred duties would not be forgotten.

Solanaceae tried not to think about the losses this time of year held in its memory, but as she breathed in the scent of the lavender and rose oil, her thoughts returned to a May evening not long ago when she sought solace after a sister’s death to find her sanctuary had vanished. The forest had been laid to waste. The Lord of the Briar was gone. She’d knelt at the hull of what had once been the most ancient of yews and raged. Raged for all that had been destroyed, raged for all that might have been. She screamed curses upon the orcs whose scent clung to the smoldering wasteland, and vowed eternal vengeance on the humans that had drove the creatures from their homes. In one cycle of Sister Moon Solanaceae had lost the two people she’d loved more than her own existence, those who, without hesitation, she would have given up her own life, even her own freedom, to save. Solanaceae swore then she would do whatever it took, swear fealty to whomever she must so that she might restore what had been taken that day, to return her love to his sacred grove.

And with the vow Solanaceae made that night, she doomed herself to banishment from her own people and service to a goddess Solanaceae at time found herself doubting truly existed. The seer knew the truth that so often she tried desperately to hide from those around her. She was going mad. Little by little, each suffering, each taint, each changes, dragged her deeper and deeper into the insanity, further along the path of Oblivion. One day… One day Solanaceae would be no more, one day she would be the Seer, not just in title or action, but fully body and soul. She would become no more than a tool, a conduit of Lilith, to be worn and discarded like a favorite cloak. Even now she found herself wondering how much of what she saw, felt, or heard was given to her by the goddess, and how much were simply products of her slipping grip on reality.

Reality. Solanaceae laughed. What a ridiculous idea. How human of her. What a thing to bother herself with. Reality, the clinging to the mundane, that was what mortals did, it was their foolish desire for power and control, the desperate scramble for immortality over their pointless and short lives. Who was she to tie herself to such mundanely? She was wildness itself, always changing, shifting as the seasons, as unstable as the weather. The wind seem to answer her, tendrils of cold digging into her like the fingers of an insistent lover, pulling her from her knees. Solanaceae laughed again, a wild laugh, casting away all thought of before and simply responding to the chaotic energy of the ley that bubbled up beneath her. She brushed her palm against a young yew and felt it’s mare respond. Her body tingled and she closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sap flow through her.

When she opened her eyes again Solanaceae stood before the mother yew, the eldest of the trees in her garden. It had taken great effort to find the seed in the carnage of the sacred forest, long lost to its guardians and lord whose blood and essence coated the land. A single seed had been spared, a seed Solanaceae protected for years until the sapling found a home here. The ley energy had fed the tree well and now here it stood, guardian of her garden and mother to many of the other yew that Solanaceae had planted around her new home. One day when the humans were all gone, when Oblivion had devoured all the people that infested the Mother’s body, Solanaceae would rebuild the Briar Lord’s forest. On that day she would give herself to Oblivion, sacrificing her own body, feeding the land with her blood, so that Briar Lord’s might return. That would be her final gift of love.

Solanaceae smiled in satisfaction as she envisioned that day in her mind and began to dance, the music of the night leading the turn of her foot, the sway of her hands, on a celebrative dance. She remembered how she had often dreamed of his hand on her skin, him filling her, throbbing magic that took her away from all thought. How often she had lain in the briars and flowers, their dreams melding and embodying the passion that her lover’s formless body could not. Perhaps at the end her goddess would allow them that moment of passion, a moment that would follow her even into the maw of Oblivion.

It was this one wish that followed her through the dance a prayer that carry one through the night, dreams of passion playing over in her mind, relived again and again. At the edge of dawn she collapsed in exhaustion at the base of the yew. Vines crept up from where her sweat had blessed the earth, wrapping tendrils and leaves around Solanaceae until she was shielded in the living cocoon, safe from the first rays of dawns light. The wildness had called, the chaos had answered, and the Goddess had heard her servant’s prayer. Wishes would be granted. Promises kept.

And Solanaceae’s suffering had only begun.

Kathar Dwin'rua · Visitor Joined: 24 Apr 2010 Posts: 9

There was no music, but he could hear the drumming. The low rhythm throbbed in his ears, waking him. The sun wasn't up, he could feel it just below the horizon, threatening to rise. The silent drums pounded loudly in his ears, intensifying.

As he looked around, every leaf shook in time, every vine throbbed. The Tree was more than alive..it was connected. Something was going on and it called to him, deeply tugging at his essence.

The shadows danced. Looking outside, the night was illuminated by a single full moon, while one was either dark or had set. The night was nearly over and the shadows were long, with an etherial feel to them. In the long light, he could see what caused the movement.

Green hair, puple skin, skyclad and apparently unaware of anyone else being awake, his neighbor danced. Mari had spoke of the garden tender that lived near him, but they had never met. Apparently she kept odd hours.

He crouched low in the window, enthralled, yet almost feeling invasive as he spied on her dancing.

Dancing. Dancing to the same beat that pulsed in his ears.

Either she was the cause of it, or she heard it too.

As he watched her, he felt himself grow warm, and his eyes turned from their normal mahogany to amber. His vision locked on her, stealing his hidden view of her bare flesh. Her passion was obvious as his senses sharpened. The glint of sweat clung to her curves, matting her hair. She swayed and gyrated, her breath becoming hard and fast.

Part of him wanted to turn away, give her the privacy of this moment, but he found his own breath moving in time with hers and he could not. As she collapsed out of view he shuddered, his own passions raging within him.

He didn't know how she had done what she had or even what she had done...but he was determined to meet her and find out.

Solanaceae · Posted: Sun May 09, 2010 10:41 pm Post subject:

Two nights into the fullness of the first of the twin sister moons, and Solanaceae was just now returning to her beloved sanctuary. She placed the blood soaked bag in the growing room sink and rinsed her hands in the clear tributary that surrounded the stone tables. She had been in too much pain after her “promotion” the night before to make the trek this far, choosing instead to rest in the botany lab. Now her plants were in need of tending and she could feel the creatures' attentions perk, awaiting their treats.

She opened the bag and carefully counted the parts within, what was left of the sacrifices made at tonight’s mass, at least the parts not needed by the other Order members in attendance. Though she found such thing distasteful, her “children” were not nearly as picky. After making careful inventory, Solanaceae carried the bag from web to web, and from hole to hole, dishing out the morsels of human flesh and blood. The offerings were taken with enthusiasm and Solanaceae smiled. She did love to indulge them, and fresh was always so much better for their health. Once the bag was empty she cast it into the lava pit that housed the fire bug hatchery and prepared for the evenings cleansing.

As the water washed away the remaining blood from her skin and hair, Solanaceae closed her eyes, wishing tonight could be as easily erased from her mind. It wasn’t compassion for the humans, or at least not mostly. She blamed them for the sickness that effected her people, the loss over everything she’d ever cared about, but even so, the blood that the water carried away bothered her just a bit. Solanaceae stared at the pinkish water that pooled around her feet. The bard hadn’t really done anything to deserve death, unless one counted butchering the old stories, which perhaps could be considered a crime to the art of storytelling. In truth this death was one more step on the path Solanaceae now took towards the end. The bard’s blood would feed the earth, the soul, a sacrifice to Oblivion. The death would be no loss to the humans beyond silly sentimentality. Like an infection they would breed more, never allowing their numbers to dwindle, lest their “power” and delusional sense of “dominance” fade.

The water dripped upon the ground as she stepped from under the waterfall, the grass cool beneath her bare feet. She walked from plant to plant, tending their needs, cooing gently to them as she worked. They responded eagerly to her touch and voice, wilted leaves perking up, and blossoms opening. Solanaceae smiled. This was when she was happiest, this was when she felt she was truly home. Once the last fern was well watered and fed she retrieved a fresh black robe from her wardrobe, wrapping it around her body like a shield. Suffering was her calling now. She must not distract herself from the path. These moments of happiness served no purpose but to recharge her. Soon work would need to be done, tasks that were far less pleasant than these. She would need to fulfill those just as diligently, no matter the cost to her spirit.

Solanaceae sighed and looked out over the low wall. Moonlight touched the upper branches of the huge yew tree that had claimed the old manor house next door, and she still had not been able to discover anything about who lived there. She’d been too busy doing work for the Herald and the Order to follow the pull of her curiosity. Now she wondered. Who lived in such a place. What power had created such a tree of such size, so quickly. Should she tell her master about it? She hated to bother him with trivial things, especially since it wasn’t near his city, so really not likely a concern to him. Even so, she found herself drawn to knowing more about the place and the person inside. The trouble was she’d never seen anyone there, at least not during the late evening when she was normally up and about.

It was an mystery indeed, one she was determined to find the answers to.

Kathar Dwin'rua · Visitor Joined: 24 Apr 2010 Posts: 9

Two days, and there hadnt been any motion in the house.

He slept and her image danced in his dreams. He tended his garden and the silent drum never ceased beating in his ears. Every time he trimmed his plants, the smell of briar flowers and thistle filled his senses.

Perhaps the pull of the ley energy here was too strong? Was this what Syl's addiction felt like? Or was he simply going mad?

The curiosity was too much. He had to know why he felt obsessed.

As he walked up to the friendly looking cottage, his eyes darted to the windows. Late afternoon, and still no motion. Perhaps he had only imagined her. Yet there he was at the door, knocking.

No answer.

He walked around the side and climbed the steps and rapped on the other door.

No answer.

He scratched his head. Had he imagined her? Was this all real? Was she just not around this much. He startled, seeing skittering across the floor, and the smell of blood wafted in the air. Perhaps she was hurt. He brightened at the thought. She had to be hurt, and needed him.

Turning the handle, the door swung open, unlocked. It only reinforced his hypothisis. He stepped into the room, and scanned the surroundings. Several tables lined the room, covered in dirt and cobwebs. This room was set up to be a nursery, but had not seen use in a few days at least. As he pressed further into the room, the source of the skittering became known as a spider with a fist sized abdomen crept towards him. As he looked the creature over, it became readily apparent that this was not a natural species. He smiled and allowed his natural affinty for animals to wash over the arachnid, before kneeling down and petting it. It chittered in what seemed to be almost a happy tone before dissapearing like a shot under the table it had come from.

He continued to search the room and attached balcony, but found no sign of her. The house had a floor above him, yet he was seeing no way to get to it. Perhaps there was a hidden staircase on the floor beneath. He hoped the doors there were unlocked as well.

Suddenly there was a flash behind him. He spun on his heel. Teleportation runes in the floor faded, to be obscured by the carpet that covered them. Standing where there had been nothing was a his green haired, purple skinned dancer, except instead of nothing, she wore a volumunous black robe and a bemused smirk on her face, as the spider he had seen sat perched on her shoulder. "How very curious. She says you're nice. Not many nice people wander into stranger's homes, especially while the occupant is sleeping. Care to explain yourself?"

Solanaceae · Posted: Mon May 10, 2010 7:44 pm Post subject:

Solanaceae watched the elf with mild curiosity as he walked through the upper gardens, admiring her handiwork. The snakes and spiders seemed to like him well enough, which was odd by itself. She rarely had company, and when she did the creatures often made the visitors uncomfortable with their protective closeness to her, and unexpected appearances and disappearances. Kathar did not seemed bothered by either. In fact he seemed wholly comfortable with the venomous creatures who where the closest that Solanaceae had to children, the closest she was likely to ever have. Yes, she thought, strange indeed.

One thing about her new neighbor that did bother Solanaceae was the feeling of familiarity that followed him. Even as many centuries as she's been in existence, she never recalled forgetting a single person she'd met, even if she only met them in passing. The familiarity with the elf was strong, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not remember in what way she could possibly know him. She leaned against the mother yew and studied him more closely. His hair was green like her own, well, she considered this, not exactly like hers. Since the infusion of drow blood from their matriarch her hair had taken on a pale, venous green, where his was more of a aquamarine, similar to the shade of sea foam but shifting to a vivid turquoise at the tips. His skin was pale, like a human noble, though had a sun touched glow to it. Attractive to be sure, but nothing that seemed to help her place him in her memory.

No. It was not his face or form that held to her thoughts, nor even his pleasantly musical voice. It was his energy. Life was strong within him. It had to be to allow him to create a living tree large enough to live in comfortably. Maybe that was it, she told herself, maybe it was the wildness in him, an attribute so often dimmed beyond recognition in the elven kind she'd met, likely due to the taint of human contact. Not with him. The wild in him was strong, perhaps even stronger than hers. Solanaceae sighed. It did not used to be so. There was once the wild ran through her fast and free, like the venom in her blood. Now…

She turned her head as he spoke to her. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Kathar smiled and raised a delicate hand toward the yew tree. “I was just saying the roof seems a strange place for such a large tree. Are you not worried of root damage as it grows?”

Solanaceae shook her head. “My hope is that it will grow around the house or simply claim it. It doesn't matter either way. I watch carefully for any damage to the tree and will insure its health no matter what need to be destroyed to make room for its growth.”

“Isn't that dangerous? The house could become unstable, even fall upon you.”

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the yew, sighing as the cool wood pressed into her exposed skin of her legs and arms. “The yew is special to me, this tree in particular. Life or death, shelter of destruction, in the end my destiny is linked to the Mother Tree. If she chooses to send me to Oblivion than it is the goddess' will.”

“There's another way.”

Solanaceae startled as the voice sounded closer than she'd expected it to be. She opened her eyes to find him standing in front of her, no less than a hand's width away. Her breath caught in her throat as she found herself trapped within his mahogany eyes. She tore her gaze away, and stared at her hands, anything to keep from looking at him. “What do you mean?”

Kathar touched her face, and she shuddered. He gently lifted her chin and despite her internal warnings she opened her eyes. His fingers were pleasantly callused, reminding her that thought he looked like nobility, he was a man of the woods, of the wild. He motioned with a nod toward the tree that had become his home.

Solanaceae looked up toward the giant yew, and then reached back her hand to touch the bark of the mother tree. What if something went wrong? This tree, she was all Solanaceae had left of the Lord of the Briar, without it there might be no hope of his return, if even such hope dared exist. “I don't know. I'm not who I once was. I'm not connected to the magics of my people as I have been. I can't risk damage to the tree I might not have the skill to heal.”

“There's nothing for you to worry about.” His fingers moved from her chin and his palm cupped her cheek. “I won't let anything happen to your tree.” Kathar leaned closer, a smile teasing upon his lips as he breathed the air, his face close to hers. “And I would disagree with you not being connected to the magic common to your people. I smell the wild on you, rich, like fertile soil.”

The fragrance of wild flowers filled her, and warmth grew in the space between them. She wanted to trust his words, to give into whatever it was she was feeling, but she didn't dare. None of her lovers had lived to return to her bed, and she preferred it that way. She didn't wish the same fate upon him. “I'm dangerous. You shouldn't get too close.”

Kathar Dwin'rua · Visitor Joined: 24 Apr 2010 Posts: 9

Deep in his belly, Kathar could feel an animalistic growl, a hunger, a desire that was unlike anything he had felt. He understood what a beast in a cage raged about, what an animal on a leash railed against, and yet could not understand why.

He continuned to protest his own actions, insisting he was not so forward, even a touch shy. And yet he could not help but to invade her personal space, drawing far closer than anyone would possibly think for somone he had just met. He could smell her, and drank in her scent, making his heart hammer in his chest, as if trying to escape. She viewed his hand suspiciously, but did not shie away as it caressed her cheek. No, not at all, she appeared to be just as drawn.

What is going on here?

His logical mind raced, scrambling to understand the magnitism between them. They had never met, they had never laid eyes upon each other, but they were at ease as if old lovers. She rested her head on his shoulder and he felt the primordial shift of his own magics within him, the feeling associated with his eyes shifting from thier normal color to thier beastial amber. Her simple touch was enough to stir the magics that allowed him to touch the ley lines and speak with the beasts.

She has to be feeling this too.

Rather than the distanced, defended posture she took when they met, she now stood against him, a hand on his heart, her body gently pressed against his. "I'm not..." Her words died. As she lifted her head to speak, he looked down. Without intending, as if thier own natures drove them, thier mouths found each other and no more conversation was needed.

Solanaceae · Posted: Sun May 16, 2010 2:35 am Post subject:

Sleep released the fae with reluctance, or perhaps it was she who wished to remain adrift in the dreaming, to hold onto what moments of contentment she found there. Even so, the chittering and calls of her hungry arachnids and other non-humanoid children would not go untended. Solanaceae raised an arm to stretch her shoulders, and found her moment restricted. She pulled back to test the resistance and opened her eyes. Vines covered her from head to feet like a caterpillars chrysalis, the rough cords almost tender in their grip on her forearm and thighs. She did her best to detach herself without harming the plants, and after some effort she was free.

Solanaceae stood and turned to get a clear view of her sleeping area. The living shield that originated from the Mother Yew covered the ornate elven made couch, creating a barrier that had held the sunlight at bay, the sunlight that now stung her skin with its touch. The Mother Yew. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at the tree, disbelief robbing her of speech. Overnight the yew had bushed out, filled with masses of leaves and the trunk thinning into something that looked more like a huge cocoa bush…

No. Not the trunk. As the truth of what she was seeing began to seep into her mind Solanaceae slowly turned around and took in the full view of her garden. Tables and boxes lay shattered in the thick grass, and young plants were full and lush, the wild laying claim to every portion of the roof top. And the yew… it wasn't the tree itself she looked upon, but only the very top, where the Mother broke through what little was left of the stone and plaster house that had once been there. Now Solanaceae was surrounded by the Mother Yew herself, and what was left of any inorganic possession after the yew had grown through it all.

She glanced back to the couch and could just see a cluster of sea foam and turquoise hair through the space she's made in the canopy of vines. Had he done this? While she slept? No, she answered herself. Even with his surprising magical ability, even he could not have made such alterations without her knowing… Then what? It made no sense. Certainly the ley magic here was strong, but it had never done anything like this before. Not since she'd been here, not that she'd ever seen in all her centuries of living. Stirring under the greenery drew her attention and Kathar came into view. His face wore a peaceful expression and his breathing was slow and steady. Tired perhaps, but not what she might expect of the sheer exhaustion one would feel after doing magic of this magnitude.

Solanaceae watched him sleep, trying not to think about what had happened between them, but finding that task impossible. She couldn't remember allowing a lover to live since she was cast from her people, yet there Kathar lay, as if he had not a care in the world. She wondered what effect her body's toxins had on him, if any at all. Solanaceae was not sure how she felt about that. Not that she really wished him harm, but there was a vulnerability knowing he might be resistant or immune to her natural defenses. Worst of all was the lack of control, the overwhelming emotions that overrode her reason. She tried so hard to hold onto what little was left of her sanity, and this man, this stranger had broken through her control with little effort. Was it just he who had that effect on her, or had Solanaceae's most recent “promotion” sent her further into the madness then she had known?

A muffled meow drew her attention and Solanaceae searched through the foliage for the teleportation stone that would take her to the lower floors. She finally found the remains of the magical device under a mushroom so large it reached her mid-chest. In the end she tapped the ley and shrunk to her pixie shape. She flew from floor to floor, finding wild growth and carnage within the boughs of the giant yew. Hemlock and the kittens were safe under Solanaceae's bed, one of the few pieces of furniture besides the couch that had survived the tree's transformation unscathed. After checking on the well being of her creatures, all who seemed unharmed, and feeding them, Solanaceae turned her attention to assessing the damage. She'd need to ask Mari to add some stairs and do some minor additions to make the place usable for her needs, but the more she time she spent within the tree, the more at peace she felt.

Solanaceae touched the inside of the tree trunk which had become the walls of her home. Energy throbbed under her fingers, the heartbeat of the Mother Yew, matching beat for beat to her own heart. Yes, this felt like home. If only she knew how this had come to be.

Kathar Dwin'rua · Visitor Joined: 24 Apr 2010 Posts: 9

Kathar yawned and stretched, pulling against the canopy of vines and leaves that covered him. He cracked an eye in surprise. They weren't tight enough to restrict him, but they still gave him pause. Thier passions the night before had been intense, but he was pretty sure he would have remembered overgrowth like this. Did she do this?

Freeing himself he stood. The elven sofa sagged and one of the arms was broken off. He had remembered that. He shook his head and stretched again. His body felt like he had been in the losing end of a fight, and the stinging of cool air on the various scratches on his body supported that feeling. He turned his back to an overturned silver basin and looked over his shoulder, assessing the damage in the reflection.

They hadn't been in a fight. What they had done had been as far from a fight as you could be. He imagined the bruises and bite marks on her throat and shoulders were no less severe.

He paused at his own chuckle. This wasn't like him. He was shy, quiet, reserved. Syl often teased him about it, trying in her own way to get him to open up.

Something inside of him reacted to the presence of the fae-elf-woman. Solanaceae's very scent drove him crazy. It clung to him and he knew it would take some effort to force himself to wash it away. He wanted her. No, he needed her. He needed her like a drunkard needs his wine. She filled him up, drew him out and made him embrace his wild nature.

What has she done to me?

The fresh cool breeze shook him and he began to look for his forgotten clothing. He paused and looked around. Wrapped in his mental worries, he hadn't noticed the roof. What had been a gently tended garden was now a wild overgrown thicket. The Yew tree sapling had exploded in growth, adding easily a few decades of growth. Large portions of the floor had been buckled and ripped away as roots burst through.

I didn't perform the ritual. Did she do it without me? It certainly would explain why the growth went where it wanted to rather than conforming to the building itself.

The teleportation stone was cracked through by a cypress root, but a hollow lined with heavy vines gave him a way down. The lower floor was no better. Perhaps even wors. Furniture was tossed to and fro, cabinets dumped over, the broken contents scattered. The damage was immense, and would take a huge effort to clean up, but he had to smile at the aesthetic. The house was just as green and grown as his, but it was far more wild and haphazard, reflecting the owner. A fitting testament to her essence.

There was a crunch from the next room, grabbing his attention. He silently padded over to the doorway, and his still skyclad host knelt over a woodenchest that has apparently taken root and sprouted new growth. Her curves called to him. What has she done to me? Her eggplant colored skin cried out for his touch. What has she done to me? He felt the shimmer and shift of his own internal essence, and a golden haze rimmed his vision as his essence shimmered through his now amber coloered eyes. What has she done to me?

Before he could help himself, or stop himself, he closed to her, he arms enveloping her waist and chest. She stiffened then immediately loosened and responded to his touch. As his mouth met her neck, her left arm lifted, resting in his hair, holding his mouth to her, as her right hand reached back and gripped his thigh. Her breath was short, keeping her voice to little more than a whisper, but her words, as close as he was, were unmistakeable.

"What have you done to me?"

Solanaceae · Posted: Thu May 20, 2010 11:33 pm Post subject:

For someone under house arrest, the Herald did not seem distressed at his predicament in the least. He ate and drank with relish, and listened intently as Solanaceae explained about her "interactions" with her new neighbor, and how it all was troubling her. The whole time she talked he nodded and smiled, an amused smile that grated on her nerves and made her feel rather cross.

"So, you don’t think I have reason for concern then?" She asked with a tone of irritation.

"I didn’t say that, but I doubt its anything you can’t handle." Dealthagar took a sip from his goblet, his smile darkened slightly. "You don’t think he intends you harm?"

"No," she admitted. "but that doesn’t mean the whole thing doesn’t still scare me. He seems totally immune to my natural toxins, my strongest defenses, and when I’m around him, I lose all control, all reason. Either he’s put a spell on me or…" Her gaze fell. Solanaceae did not want to admit what about this she feared the most.

"Or you’ve finally gone mad. Is that what you think?" At his words she nodded. Dealthagar shook his head. "Trust me, Seer, I know madness, and that isn’t your trouble here. It’s lust, pure and simple. Nothing for you to get this worked up about. Perhaps you are drawn to each other because of natural selection. For procreation. You’re a creature of the wild, he is an elf, a being of life. Stranger things have happened."

Solanaceae shook her head vehemently. "No. I am not for him. I’ve known the one I was meant for long ago, but he is gone. I want no one else. I desire no one else."

"Then explain your draw to the elf. Are you not desiring of him? You said you couldn’t control yourself, your hunger, that his touch brought out your wildness. Is this not so?"

Solanaceae grew quiet. She had no answer. It was true, all of it. That’s what scared her the most.

Dealthagar leaned forward, the goblet dangling between his outstretched fingers. With his free hand he touched the air above her, seeming to weave a pattern there, his face etched with concentration. "I sense no unfamiliar lingering magics on you, Seer. However, due to your concern I am placing a ward upon you. If anyone tries to ensorcel you with mind altering spells, you will know it."

"Thank you, Herald."

"It is done." Dealthagar leaned back in his chair. "My suggestion is that the next time you and he share pleasures, you use those valuable tantric magics to access your gift of sight. If your combined tantric energy can do that to a tree unfocused, I imagine you can access the answers you seek in the same manner." He tilted back toward her, all amusement gone from his face. "If you find trouble you are to contact me, call out, I will hear you."

"But…" Solanaceae motioned around the room. "You have been ordered to remain here. The Council has commanded it. You mustn’t risk their anger for me."

Dealthagar’s amused grin resurfaced at her words. "Don’t you worry about me, I have my ways. Besides, my servants are everywhere, you of all people should know that."

Solanaceae walked for over an hour after she left the Abbey, considering the Herald’s words and what she was to do. She felt guilty leaving her guest back in the manor without warning, and now, she must face him and what needed to be done. As much as she feared the connection between them, she also longed to be with him again. The duality of her feelings only added to her fear of losing what was left of her mind. What if her master was wrong? What if his own madness made him unable to see how far Solanaceae’s was taking her.

Then there was the suggestion Dealthagar had made. True, if it was tantric energy that altered the pace of the tree’s growth, it could just as well empower her gifts of foresight. It was a wild card attempt, but she was out of ideas. Not at the house. They’d done enough damage there. Someplace else, someplace that the ley energy was as strong but they would be far away from people. One place came to mind, a place that the idea of returning to filled her with as much dread and longing as the Kathar himself did.

The grove of the Lord of Briars.

Kathar Dwin'rua · Visitor Joined: 24 Apr 2010 Posts: 9

Whether or not he was responsible in truth, Kathar felt responsible for the damage that was done. He sifted through the rubble that had been Sol's house, piling things in stacks of "undamaged", "damaged" and "destroyed". He wasn't sure where Solonaceae had slipped off to, but this was the least he could do. It would also insure he would see her as soon as she returned.

What had seemed like a simple infatuation had blossomed into an obsession. Had she not appeared as frightened of it as she was, he would be more worried. It wasn't something she was doing, but more of a force between them that drew them towards each other. He growled in frustration and paused his cleaning to scratch his right forearm. The scar hadn't bothered him in years, but something in her home had inflamed it.

In the middle of the meaty part of his forearm was a twin half-moon of teeth-marks. He had been a small child, perhaps six or seven when it had happened. He had strayed too close to the wood's edge, and a wolf snatched him up with the intent of making a meal of him. The pain had been white hot, like nothing he had ever experienced. When he woke up, he was in the head druid's hut, with the full council of mystics surrounding him. The bite had gone all the way to the bone, and cracked it. Infection had set into the marrow, and even thier most powerful healing magics were having no effect.

His fingernail traced the runic tattoos that circled the scar. It had taken ancient magics that he did not understand to save his life. Even with those ancient ways, it had taken years for the wound to completely close and heal, and he had been well into his teens before the ever-present bandages were no longer needed. Well past the orc attack that destroyed his village and made him an orphan.

With all the heavily modified plants, broken vials of unknown samples and who else know what scatted about in the mess from the tree's burst of growth, it was little surprise that the old wound throbbed and itched as if it were healing again. Just about anything here could have aggrivated it. The silver runes were rimmed in red, irritated. Going into his pack, he applied a thin layer of healing salve and wrapped his arm in a strip of gauze he normally kept for his pets. It did little to soothe the irritation, but the bandage would keep him from rubbing his skin raw.

"You're still here."

Kathar turned to the archway where the poison fairy stood wearing the black and red robes of the umbran Order she was a member of. Here was a creature of nature and the wild, wrapped in the trappings of undeath and everything unnatural. He was in no position to judge another, but he had to wonder what had befallen her existance to lead her down this path. "I wanted to help."

Without realizing it, they had closed to the center of the room and a hair's breadth from each other. His breath came hard and he watched her eyes dialate as the scent of thistle filled the room. Goosebumps raised on her neck as his hand touched her face. She pressed herself to his chest and gripped his robe tightly. "There are few wizards of my master's power in Sosaria." She looked up and her eyes locked with his. "He believes the attraction between us and the unexplained magic are connected. Take me someplace magical. Someplace where the ley energy flows free and we won't destroy anything." Her teeth nipped at his throat. "I need you. Right now."

"I know just the place." Without thinking he waved his hand and a gate appeared. They stepped through and he felt the rush of his childhood home wash over him. The circle of pillars had been the shrine the druids of his village watched over. The untamed energy of the area was as intense as it was where Solanaceae's and his cottages were, but it was far more unkept, wild here. "Will it do?"

Instead of the pleased look or smile he expected, Sol's face was twisted in sorrow, doubt and distrust. Her words had an accusitory, almost hateful tone to them. "How do you know this place?"

"My people's village was just south west of here, where the water meets the woods. This was the grove the druid's of my village tended."

"Greenbreeze."

Kathar nearly staggered. He hadn't heard the name of his home since...

"The orcs destroyed it. They burned it to the ground. Took everything they could. Starved out by the humans to the north." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "They cut down the Ancient Yew that centered the woods here, burned down the entire grove. Nobody survived."

"I did." He wrapped his arms around her andshe melted into his grasp. As the two succumbed to thier passion in the center of the ring and he felt the shudder of ley energy fill him, his arm began to burn. With each joining, the burning grew, until his entire being felt like it was on fire. it was the white hot he had felt when the wolf had bitten him. The burning, gnowing growing sensation that he needed to explode, burst free from his won skin, howl at the moon....

As his voice escaped him, the golden glow from his eyes illuminated the night, filling the circle with an unearthly amber tone. He could hear the pulse again. The trees, the grass, the vines, the flowers...they all pulsed in time with his heart. He grabbed his head and arched his back as the cachophany of the wild around them filled his ears, eyes and mind. As the tantric energy suddenly burst from him into her, his crown chakra burst with the wild they shared and his inner eye suddenly opened. His voice was his, but not his.

"We survived, he and I. As one."

Solanaceae · Posted: Sat May 22, 2010 11:42 am Post subject:

She could not breathe. The force of energy filled her, touching every nerve in a ferocious wave and awakening memories locked away in her mind she had not visited for centuries. Solanaceae struggled for control, to keep a hold of her sense of the present. Finally her breath returned and she was able focus on details. The fragrance of pine and wildflower swirled around her, and when Solanaceae looked down he had changed. Kathar’s eyes glowed with a rich amber that warmed her like sunlight once had. On his head rested an expansive rack of antlers, the crown of a Lord of the Grove. Solanaceae touched the prongs with her fingertips, smiling at the slight fuzz of newness that coated the surface.

As the present fully framed itself around them, and the memories replaying themselves in the back of her thoughts quieted, her mind replayed the words that brought both elation and terror to her heart.

We survived, he and I. As one.

The voice. Her gaze return to the glow of amber, and her hand shook as she lower her fingers from the antlers to touch his cheek. It was not possible. He was gone. She had search and called to him, and nothing had been left alive in the grove…

Nothing but a small boy that would one day grow up to be a man she was drawn to without reason. As if… as if they were meant to be together, meant for each other. The truth did not seem possible but here he was, his scent, his energy, the familiar feeling of it all. There was no other answer.

“How is this possible?” Solanaceae whispered.

Kathar lifted his right arm and slowly unwrapped the gauze, revealing the silver tattoos. “We are bound together. The boy became my grove.”

“So,” Solanaceae’s voice shook with emotion. “You will never be free? You are bound in him forever?”

“I am free, now.” Kathar kissed her forehead gently. “We are now one. I am now full, rather than hidden below the surface. He and I, we are one. The same.”

“Why did they do this to you…to him?”

“Their seers saw the coming destruction. They could do nothing to stop it. They had no plan.”

Confusion swept over Solanaceae. None of this made any sense to her. “They could have come to my people. We would have helped them…I would have helped you. Why didn’t you let me? I would have become your grove if you would have let me.”

Kathar smiled. “You could not. As old as they are, the trees, the plants, the life in my grove is mortal. It is that mortal link that I grow to. The boy was only a temporary replacement. Once the destruction was past the druids would undo the runes and I would regrow my grove.”

“But no one survived.”

Kathar nodded. “And hiding in the boy made me so weak all I could do was protect him. I could not guide him, or even speak to him. My plan failed.”

Understanding surfaced slowly. “So, this was all your doing, your plan. To seek shelter until the storm of destruction had passed, and then to return to me…to your grove?”

He nodded. “With a single seed I could be all I ever was. As long as the wound never healed.”

Solanaceae reached out to touch the silver tattoos, her fingers tracing the arcane patterns sadly. “But it did heal. And now you are trapped here.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Not trapped. The wild grows. Ivy cracks the stone. Saplings grow in the ravaged forest. We are whole.” He clutched her tightly to his chest. “We are alive. Alive in ways we never were before. We are whole.”

For a few moments the joy of what his words meant blossomed inside her, filling her with a contentment she had not known in years. Then a dark voice crept in the back of her thoughts, a reminder of how much she too had changed, what she had become. She struggled to pull free from his embrace, but he held fast. “Don’t look at me. I have become everything we once reviled. I’m not worthy of your love. Not anymore. Let me go.”

“He and I are we. All he has seen, all he has known, I have seen and known as well. I know what you have become.” He placed a hand on her cheek, gently caressing her with his thumb. “You’re savage and brutal. Deadly. You are no less worthy of me now then you ever were before. We are both changed, and we bear the scars of the damage done to the world.” His mouth met hers and she felt her need for flight fade, and she gave in, relaxing into his embrace. “It is not for you to decide your worth. Only your desire. We are changed. I and he will be less apart as time goes on. We will truly be one. The boy’s heart was worthy to be my grove. He and I are we. Only your heart will know if this can continue.”