Chapter Text
They came to her as they’d always had in previous summons; in her dreams. The mundane dreamless sleep she found herself in giving way to an empty space that smelt of ozone and petrichor. The women’s dreaming eyes opened to survey the space, calm and expectant of the place she was now in breathing deep of the smells and senses as the nothingness began to form shapes – her targets and/or markers.
The matte-black ground beneath her began to shift, forming now into grassy rock of a malnourished olive colouration that matched well to the mud that joined the beginning landscape. A sudden sulphurous smell assaulted her combined comforts as pools of bubbling brackish water formed within a veritable rainbow of colours beneath and close around.
So far, this area wasn’t high on her preferred terrains - a low rank for this one of her creations. That part didn’t really matter though, as the rumbling of thunder above called her attention, clouds lighter against the pitch black sky coalesced back to where she had first been looking as a figure rose from the earth.
The figure formed before her of a dark brown material - hinting towards the appearance perhaps, nude but featureless it formed up from twin pillars to meet and create a body, smaller in stature to herself. A name formed itself in her mind from a voice that rumbled like the sky above.
“Beau.” It informed her.
`Beau. She had who she was looking for. Usually that was all she would receive, a visual and a name - but It seemed there was more her charges had to inform her as from the figures neck -Beau’s neck, formed a wrapping vine, not choking them, but restricting them.
Patiently, she watched as the coil of vine extended out away from her. Following the formation, like the rope of a lasso to what she guessed was its wielder. As it travelled further away from her, she saw small clusters of coloured orbs begin to sprout from the vine.
Berry vines? Or grape maybe, she pondered as the blooming vine reached its growling wielders maw.
Formed from the same-coloured material, a pair of large cat-like creatures stared her down. The one with the vine had a thick mane - a male lion then she surmised stared out towards them with black voids for eyes. The other lion, a lioness however held no stare like their other, but sat bowed in supplication and from its eyes poured a dark liquid into the grass, staining it as if formed rivulets down and away.
She approached the figures, occasionally checking back for any changes to the ‘Beau’ figure before reaching the two cats. Beside her now the lion continued to steadily growl but she paid it no mind as she reached a finger into the flow to taste it.
Could it of been blood or a foul liquid – yes, but she could stomach a bad phantom aftertaste if it gave her more insight into these twos connection. The liquid however was sweet, fruity, and just a hint alcoholic.
“Fermenting grapes - definitely wine; a wine family and their… child?” She wondered aloud to the roiling sky.
All at once the rumbling above ceased, affirming her conclusion.
So, she had a wine family to track down. Turning finally back to the lion holding the vines she searched it for translatable features, but finding none she resolved herself to her mission, reaching and grasping tightly to the grape vine holding this Beau captive.
The emerald of her tattooed arm clasping the vine shone brightly, the mother presence assuring her of their confidence in her. “I understand,” She said finally and tore the green chain.
~-~-~-~
Early morning light was painted the tavern room she’d slept in the night before as she woke from her summons, the sounds and smells of the tavern below rousing her senses to action and she quickly sat herself up in the bed, reaching for her travel bag and the journal within.
the dreams provided by her gods for these expeditions didn’t usually have a habit of fading like a normal dream, but the process of making a copy of the details never hurt. She was looking for a wine family, somewhere if the terrain was to be believed probably shouldn’t be hosting any.
Stowing the journal away, she got herself presentable for leaving; the arrangement of multi-coloured flowers that adorned her hair having passed their best were swiftly replaced with the fresh small white blooms of Yarrow and the larger stem of an orange and pink Echinacea, securing it into her braids.
Setting the final pieces of her gear back into place, her large greatsword safety sheathed on her back, she left a single blue bloom upon the dresser in thanks before closing the door and descending to the tavern proper, the heavy smells of breakfast tempting her to belay her travels just an hour or two longer. The dwarven man behind the bar caught sight of the pale women’s arrival with a pleasant smile and nod of greeting.
“Mornin’. Seems you’re fixing to be heading off already then – getcha’ anything for the journey?” he enquired.
“I’m good, thank you”, she replied with a smile of thanks, fixing her eyes on the collection of different drinks he had behind him. As she checked over the various bottles, she could feel a growing tingling, faint and un-intruding but guiding as it heightened and lessened as she scanned them.
Finally, the sense apexed as her eyes found a bottle emblazoned with an ornate lion amidst a backdrop of multi-hued dirt – the words ‘Lionett vintage’ written in bold font.
The man hadn’t inquired with her yet on her browsing, content to wait for her decision, he looked up to her eyes as she spoke once again,
“Actually, I was wondering what you could tell me about a certain unique wine company.”
Yulisen; the first day of the weekend for most of the Continent – if not Exandria itself. But not here in Kamordah, the lightly sulphurous smelling shithole. Home.
The sun set over the Cyrios Mountains as she made her way back from the upper vineyards, her halfling colleague beside her – another day of checking the state of the workers that maintained the families- the companies grapes.
With a crack of her back, she looked back over to the stouter women, “No. I don’t know exactly what the Sur-Stassman’s have up their sleeves to unveil soon, Pavan,” she sighed, her Halfling dialect slurring the rival companies name slightly as her body shifted at the stretch, “there’s a reason I end up most the time with everyone else around here then rubbin’ elbows.”
“You mean being about an extended time round your father when he’s in business mode.” Pavan countered beside her, she didn’t need to look beside her to guess the smirk the halfling was probably wearing alongside the observation.
“He’s always in ‘Business mode’” The darker skinned women muttered quietly, falling back into common, eyes fixed on the main dirt road coming up that’d lead them back towards the estate.
A distant rumbling ahead though drew her attention skyward briefly – they weren’t expecting a storm anytime soon yet, but the mountains and the landscape could have a habit of conjuring the odd rogue weather pattern. She looked back to her companion, looking back at her with knowing eyes.
“Be- “she began.
“-Anyways – gotta be getting back; don’t want to be late and have them worrying,” the human Interrupted giving a nod to her before setting off ahead without another word.
Watching her go, the Halfling started down the other way with a sigh, glancing back momentarily as another rumble reverberated in the Humans direction up in the sky.
She didn’t have to rush – it’d be another few hours at least before anyone might have gotten just a little concerned. On a different day, sure but today and amongst the workers why would the king worry about his cattle so long as they were still his in the morning.
The road up to the estate was usually quiet this time of day, a select few could be found making the trek up to Kamordah proper – less so though outside of the work week. There’d been a few more rumblings above but nothing of more substance assured that her Da’leysen would be dry.
As the few trees that made their holdout out close to her home came into view, she started to slow in her jaunt as the air began to change, the smells of sulphur and earthen minerals lightening into something she couldn’t quite describe, like one of those rare times when the rain fell upon the a portions of the seasonal clumps of still greening grass. But there was no rain about, and she would have seen any falling from her vantage point up on the higher Rainbow Vineyard hills.
Caught between confusion and acceptance to just enjoy the rare reprieve to the normal scents of the village, she almost didn’t notice the darker shape within the trees opposite to the heavy estate gates.
Almost.
Whoever it was hadn’t noticed her approach yet, hidden from the view of the house by the trees they watched the house with intent, were they here to scope the place; brought in by the Stassman’s in preparation for their reveal to watch for disrupters. Or were they here for something more sinister.
Ignoring the racing heartrate within her, she continued her approach towards the figure now – pushing aside the thoughts of exactly how loud she’d have to scream for someone inside to hear her.
Getting closer, she pulled a steadying breath before she called out to the figure, “HEY. Can I help you?”
To her credit, she did not get immediately murdered, so not an assassin. Apparently not expecting to be seen, the figure jumped just a little out of their skin before spinning to follow the voice and spot her.
Still approaching the figure, she reiterated once again, “shitty place for sight-seeing – I help you?”
“Oh, hi. I didn’t see you approach, sorry.” The figure spoke, apologetic; the voice catching her quickly off guard. Accented that she couldn’t place but not Dwendalian. They were taller than her and wore a dark poncho, what skin she could see was pale in the setting light.
“I was looking for the Lionett winery – is this them?” they asked, setting the smaller women back on guard.
“Oh yeah, who’s asking – Eleanor send you?” she probed.
“Eleanor? No don’t know who that is – I was looking for a ‘Beau’ who has some relation to the Lionetts.”
She took a step back at her name, arms raised up slightly in case she found herself attacked, “So you’re not involved with Eleanor Stassman, but you came to my families house looking for me?” she questioned aloud. Watching the other figure straighten up a little at her reply she took another step back.
“You’re Beau?” they ask over.
“-regard Lionett; one and only – why that matter?” she clarified for them, might as well make it simpler for this person and get things finished up here.
“Huh, didn’t expect that.”
“Yeah, you’re not the first person to have that reaction, bud.” She deadpanned, suddenly quite ready to end this conversation.
The other women seemed to catch that she’d hit a nerve, quickly adding, “I didn’t mean like in a bad way, I just meant that- “
“Alright, what do you want with me anyway otherwise, I think it’s time for you and me to go in opposite directions.” Beau concluded, jerking a thumb in the direction of the gate.
“Of course. I just wanted to find you and to say hi and I’ll maybe see you around.”
Feeling a lot more at ease around the cloaked figure now that they seemed to be wanting to say, least for now, she began to take her leave.
“Sure thing, stranger. See you around, I guess.” She said behind her as she made her way to the gate. But a rustling behind her from the figure and a few muttered words made her spin around, arms back up and wary she had been duped.
What she saw instead wasn’t the cloaked figure bearing down upon her, but a pale arm that glimmered green holding in her hand a small sprouting of flowers, white headed with a small patch of purple. The cloak was down revealing a toned, slightly chiselled face with a dark stripe down the chin and two-toned partially braided hair that was tucked behind the hood but now flowed around their shoulders.
“Before you go – here, these are for you, ill be setting up in town if you want to find me.” the figure said, holding the blooms out for her to take.
“Uhhh, they’re not poisonous or anything?” Beau asked, taken aback both from the sudden gift – and totally not as well the reveal of the women underneath.
The figure chuckled lightly before shaking in negative – “not poisonous, just something you can have. Seems people around here could use some different colours, should look nice planted.”
“A flower then, sure – should warn you though nothing pretty grows or belongs here though.” She cautioned as the women began to leave.
Replacing her hood, the women turned back around to face her, feigning a response back, she gave shrug and carried on, leaving the smaller women alone again. She watched her leave for a few minutes longer and as she disappeared further in the direction of the village itself, that pleasant smell she hadn’t realised had been persisting throughout the conversation diffusing away to be replaced with the familiar acrid smells of Kamordah once more.
Letting the gate close behind her, her gaze fell on their garden, the wilted grasses and failed flower bushes. How many times had they tried to beautify the grounds here – too many to count. She looked at the flowers in her grasp, fully bloomed with stalk and roots and all, like they were plucked completely from the road on the way here, she seemed so confident.
With a snort of contempt, she threw the blooms over into a barer section of upturned garden earth – there’s no colour in Kamordah and everything that tries dies. Walking past without a second look, she went inside for the night.
The next morning soon transitioned into early afternoon before the youngest Lionett woke within the drab room she called her own – with no responsibilities to the estate today she was ‘free’ to do as she pleased, within reason.
Getting dressed for the day she glanced to the dreary skies outside. No rain, she thought to herself, guess it was freak thunder then, she concluded slipping on the long-sleeved shirt and heading for outside.
Her one day where she could be free of any of the machinations of the wine industries here and before whatever was to transpire. Walking down towards the kitchen, she made note of the silence within the upper floors, her family must be out for the moment.
Snatching a quick selection of food within as the morning staff were finishing up, she headed for the front door, shooting a nod of greetings to their newer house staff, Jeanine.
Heading out into the dreary day the first thing, her eyes instantly caught sight of the white and purple flower she’d discarded last night, walking by it a few more paces before stopping dead and staring at the single bloom which was no longer just laying like a spent wine bottle but had been planted within the ground and had begun to bloom just a little more vibrantly than she swore it was yesterday.
Her mind immediately went to the woman that’d given it to her, the smile she had when she’d told her it’d just die – had she come in and fucking planted it over night? Heading over to it she knelt over it to get a closer look, maybe it’d just been propped it in there instead.
Reaching a curious hand to it, she carefully took hold of the stem and gave it just the slightest pull. It held fast within the soil. Tried again a little harder, feeling it hold for just a few seconds before with a quiet snap, it separated from the rest.
“Ah fuck.” She cursed, holding the severed flower now, “well, certainly can’t grow now.” She noted setting it on the ground and scouping up a handful of the dirt under the other half.
Shaking away the excess dirt, she found what she was looking for, the small network of plant roots, somehow also much larger than the small tangle that came with it. Setting the oddity aside for the moment, she wiped off her hand and darted quickly back inside to find Jeanine.
She found her quickly enough having not moved far from the short time she was outside, “Hey, Jeanine. Did you plant that white flower outside – or did you see anyone do it?”
The Human women looked to her confused, pausing in her dusting, “Er, no sorry – I didn’t. I think it was already there when I came in this morning.” She responded, “do you want me to get rid of it or- “
“Nah, its fine there. I’ll be heading out now – see ya.” Beau cut her off with a hand wave already heading for the door again.
The market, that’s where she’d be most likely to find her; the women from last night had said that she’d ‘see her around’ and unless that meant more skulking behind trees outside the Estate, then the market would be the next best place.
The market wasn’t partially bustling today, making it easy to find just who she was looking for. Not that the large array of multi-coloured flowers within the modest display cart didn’t shine like a beacon within the large space of grey stone and blanched, petrified wood.
Though dreary out, the sunlight that came through granted her a much better view of the women she’d encountered last night: tall, very well built with two-toned white and black hair dotted with white and pink blooms.
Finishing up with a customer, the pale women noticed her approach with a bright smile that looked out of place amongst the sullen day.
Wasting no time, she charged straight into it, “did you plant that flower you gave me in my families garden?” she accused to the women, face quickly shifting from happy to curious.
“I swear I did not. Did you ‘leave’ it on the ground.” They probed.
“Yeah, in with the failed garden projects – it was rooted and blooming and everything when I came out today.”
The women nodded along with her explanation, a hand coming up to rest on the dark line lip tattoo that traced from her lower lip to her chin, eventually she began to chuckle again as she spoke,
“It’s good to know they survive alright if they get thrown away at least – normally people don’t do that.” She commented through her amusement.
“You think I was going to plant a random flower some starer had given me inside my house?” Beau started.
“I suppose not,” she relented before assuring, “though it is perfectly harmless.”
“Was.” Beau corrected, watching the taller women’s face fall just a little.
There was silence for a moment, and Beau couldn’t help but feel a little bad for snapping it and then just leaving it there as she woman turned back to her cart for a moment.
“Would you like another?” she offered, holding an identical bloom to the one she’d handed her yesterday.
She watched the flower for a moment as it swayed slightly in the pale hand before nodding and gently taking it from her. Once Beau had it, she spun back around again grabbing a small length of brown paper and offering for her to wrap it in for now.
“Uh, thank you…” she trailed off, taking a quick glance about the cart to spy a name for this merchant woman.
“Yasha. You can call me Yasha.” She provided.
Yasha – Yaaaasha. It had a nice ring to it, carefully tucking the wrapped flower away in a pocket she watched the woman continue just watching her, like she was trying to figure something about her out.
“So. I better be going then, Yasha.” breaking the larger woman’s stare, “don’t want to forget about this and ruin it too.” She joked, looking back up to meet her gaze – the two different coloured irises within.
The intense gaze softened as their eyes met, and Yasha mouth twitched into a soft smirk, “well, if that happens, I’ll be here for a while; so, come on by again and I’ll give you another.”
The rest of the day past in a blur as she ambled about the village, not ready to return yet but anxious to set the wrapped plant in her pocket somewhere.
By the time she finally returns back, she’s still alone for dinner – not that it made a massive difference to the amount of conversation there would be. Afterwards, she collected a tall wine and went to fill it full of dirt from the failed plot. Spotting the cut flower from earlier was still laying where she left it, she collected it too and returned upstairs with the glass to her room, setting it beside her bed.
“So, at some point during the night, the flower somehow took root from where I left it then. That should mean that if I leave this one just a top this stuff, it should do the same.”
The sound of the front door signalled their return, but she paid that no heed, if he suddenly had something to tell her, he could just wait till she reported to him tomorrow morning.
Carefully unwrapping the new flower, she placed it atop the glass as well, leaving the exposed root just shy of the inside of the glass. Changing it her nightwear, she lay there in bed, a random book beside her to occupy her brain, and monitored the flower for any changes.
One hour, nothing.
Two hours, nothing.
Four hours, no change.
She didn’t even feel herself growing that tired when all of a sudden, it was morning, and a frantic voice was calling on her to wake up.