[IC] Verissa and Asher (Story Continued)

[Twhirtley]

Verissa hiked Remilia further up on her chest, doing her best to be careful of her newly splinted leg. Whispering in the dog's ear, "It will be okay love, we're going to go somewhere nice and quiet so you can rest." Remus stuck close to his mother as usual, constantly looking up to check on his sister.

As they moved through the hustle and bustle of the camp, anytime a person or another dog got close to them, Remus would uncharacteristically growl and snarl at them. Verissa didn't notice the hushed whispers or the sidelong glances or even outright stares that were cast her way. It wouldn't take long until every member of the camp knew that Asher's little slave nearly took off Jasper's head and sent him scurrying like the rat he is. Everyone knew of his more unpleasant desires, and assumed that he'd been successful. A couple of people even joked that once she'd killed Jasper, that Asher would be next and she'd become a proper Kvaren with a necklace of severed testicles. It didn't help at all that many of the people had seen her use magic on the poor dog. Everyone was certain that the little blonde woman would earn her freedom, taking it so far as to already preparing themselves to say goodbye to Asher.

Verissa arrived at their tent and set Remilia down gently on a sack of sacks, telling her to stay when the pup tried to rise. Remus guarded his sister dutifully as Verissa began to pack the wagon. She'd been living here long enough, helped move long enough that she knew the best ways to pack it so that belongings didn't get left out, nor would they fall out or be blown away. The work was cathartic, letting her focus on the lifting and organizing. She was nearly halfway done when she stopped to rest, her body sticky with sweat. She slumped down next to her dogs, huffing and puffing. "We'll have to go back to that stream, get my staff." She pat their heads, scratched behind their ears, "But let's rest for now."

[Drache]

"I'll only be gone five days, Ozlo. Seven at most if it rains." Asher looked down at where the Thunderfangs chieftain was reclined in a low chair made out of curved ivory tusks that had been lashed together with dark leather straps. In the low yellow flicker of the shallow brazier in the center of the circular pavilion the old bone appeared to be elephant tusks, but there were many creatures in the Kerawac with tusks and spines like that.

Like any tent owned by a Kvaren, nearly everything in Asher's line of sight was made from furs and leather, the chieftain's lot being a bit less worn and more recognizable for what creatures they had come from than that owned by the slaves. Here and there the gleam of metal showed him weapons and shields, all of which he had seen Ozlo use in raids and battles against the hated Ebon Knights.

It was the only life Asher had known, and it would be this tent, or one like it, that he would command the Thunderfangs when he was chieftain.

Asher shook his head briefly, an icy chill down his spine as he realized what he'd been thinking. There was no guarantee that he would ever be chief! There were several other Swordmasters who were older and more experienced, just as trusted by Ozlo. Why should it be him? And yet...

Thankfully the behemoth of a man had reached over to heft a large stein of ale and missed the younger man's distracted expression. "You can't leave now, Ash. We'll be at the summer gathering in no more than ten days. We need you running the patrols up and down the caravan." He took a sip, some of the amber froth spilling over into his shaggy beard. While Ozlo was just as much a massive presence as he had always been, Asher couldn't help but notice that his beard had far more grey in it than he'd recalled before.

"You don't need me. Sedrik is capable of organizing the patrols. In fact, we're a long way away from the nearest Ebon Knights. This will be a good chance for the fighters to show what they've learned without me dictating their every move." Asher stood his ground, refusing to sink into one of the low seats across from his chief. He wanted to leave, right away. But he couldn't go without Ozlo's permission.

The chief wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and watched Asher pointedly, his gaze shrewd. "What's gotten into you, Ash. You've never argued with me before." That wasn't exactly true. All of the Swordmasters spent time debating around this same brazier when planning everything from picking the next campground to the next raid on Ebonfort. It seemed that Ozlo felt that this was a different sort of discussion. Not knowing how to respond, Asher hesitated.

"Does this have something to do with that new slave of yours? I haven't had a chance to congratulate you on managing to pluck a witch from the flock. I heard a rumour that Jasper had her first."

A grim fire flashed in Asher's steely eyes and he clenched his fists where his arms were crossed across his chest. "Verissa belongs to me," he growled throw gritted teeth. "If Jasper lays a finger on her again I will kill him. If she doesn't do it first."

Ozlo chuckled grimly. "Yes, I hear you've been teaching her to fend for herself. At first I was surprised. I assumed you would want to bed her and get her with child as quickly as possible. But I suppose you've always been good at teaching others to be self-sufficient."

The Swordmaster just shook his head, shaggy black hair rippling slightly. "I'll not rape her, Ozlo. I'll do everything I can to make her into a true Kvaren, but only if she wants it. I don't like that the men force themselves on the slaves." In fact, since the moment he had claimed Verissa as his own he had begun to second-guess the Kvaren's tradition of capturing slaves at all.

Ozlo leaned back and sighed. "It's our way, Asher. You've known that since you were born. It's always been the Kvaren way."

"It doesn't have to be," Asher retorted, with far more conviction than he had intended. He hadn't intended to get into this with Ozlo now, desperate to be far away on the quiet grassland with only Verissa and her dogs. "As a matter of fact I sometimes wonder if we'll ever be more...more than this..." he gestured to the tent above and by extension, the camp around them, "...if we continue pouring everything we have against the walls of the Ebonfort."

Asher chewed on the inside of his cheek, wishing he hadn't said so much that might shake his chieftain's faith in his commitment to his tribe. Loyalties and support were important commodities on the Kerawac. He shook his head, "...Forgive me. This is something we can discuss at a later time."

At first Ozlo said nothing, and when Asher looked up again he saw that Ozlo's expression had become very grim and careworn indeed. The somewhat jovial demeanor the chieftain used to keep the Swordmaster and Shadewalkers together as a unified clan had vanished. In that moment he looked older than ever.

"No, Asher. I'm glad you speak your mind to me. I wanted to announce this at the Gathering but I think you deserve to hear it now. I won't be the chief of the Thunderfangs forever and it's past time I choose someone to replace me before it's too late. Our clan is large and strong but that makes it even more likely to splinter off when a chief dies. Our people deserve more, and I think if anyone has a mind to make that happen it's you."

With a long, loud groan, Ozlo heaved himself up off the floor, his leather vest creaking against the strain. He towered over even Ash, who was not small, and clapped the Swordmaster on the shoulder. "Do you agree?"

"Chief, it's a great honour..." Asher was astounded that his private thoughts had linked together so smoothly with what he was hearing now. In some ways he had always hoped he would prove his abilities enough to be considered Chief of his own tribe, but now that the chance was offered to him he shied away from it.

Ozlo noticed his uncertain tone and frowned. "I had expected you to jump at the chance. You worked towards this your whole life! I figured no one would want to lead raids against the Ebon Knights than you."

Asher let his hands drop. "I don't know what I want anymore, Chief. For the last ten years all I wanted was to find Brynmor and kill him for what he took from me. And I thought I had!" He lifted his hand briefly to touch his left bicep where he had worn the orange sash of the un-named Sergeant he had killed at New Year's.

Ozlo harrumphed. "Tell you what, Ash. Take your little trip. Get a handle on that girl of yours before she causes too much trouble. Take some time to think about what you really do want. Come see me when you get back."

--

His expression was even more broody than normal when he returned to his own campsite. He was pleased to find that Verissa had already packed almost everything into the wagon, leaving plenty of room for herself and her dogs and some to spare. With every step of his long stride there was a clatter of pottery coming from a sack he carried over his shoulder. Dropping the roughspun thing gently into the wagon, he tucked the small empty clay pots out of the way. Each was empty, though stoppered with a tight cork.

The Swordmaster handed Verissa a length of smooth wood, slightly damp from where it had remained in the grass by the water. "This is yours. A warrior should never lose track of her weapons."

He glanced down at Remilia, satisfying himself that the dog had been seen to. He ignored Remus' customary growling as he moved to break down the tent. He doubted the dogs would ever come to trust him. Like their mother, he thought as he glanced over at the petite blonde. He couldn't help but hear Ozlo's near-instruction to bed her in his mind. It wasn't a secret that he wanted her. It also wasn't a secret that he was stubbornly denying himself the pleasure.

Working in a tense silence, it didn't take long for the rest of Asher's things to make their way into the wagon. He hitched the versatile Phantom to the yolk and climbed up onto the seat. He twitched the reigns gently and kissed at the horse, the wagon lurching slightly before moving off into the twilight. The trip was a very last minute decision. They could go anywhere, or nowhere in particular. But Asher had a definite destination in mind.

[Twhirtley]

Verissa heard the telltale growl coming from Remus as Asher approached. She wasn't sure how it was different, but she knew that her pups growled a bit differently when he approached versus anyone else. Something along the lines of not trusting him yet, but tolerating him, unlike with strangers. She cocked her head to the side curiously as he placed the clay pots in their place, wondering just what it was that Shenzi had tasked him with. And it's not like anyone could refuse the old fox woman. Not even Asher.

She stood up as Asher handed over her staff. She mumbled a thanks, more of a deterrent for not wanting to bring up the incident that led to her losing it. But she appreciated how he called her a warrior, even if she was just a fledgling. She was by no means lethal or anything, but the way he said it sounded as if he meant it seriously, and that he wasn't being patronizing or sarcastic. She nodded at the comment. Verissa picked up Remilia while Asher tore down the tent, and set her in the wagon, to sit between her and Asher.

Her pups needed to learn to trust Asher, and vice versa, and to do that, they needed to spend more time together. It would be the only way they could make this new situation of theirs work fully. She knew there was no leaving, and deep down, she didn't really want to. There was nothing to go back to, aside from perhaps seeing her father one last time. But holed up in the Ebonfort capital made that an impossibility of the highest magnitude.

Once Asher finished the packing, Verissa pulled herself up into the wagon, Remus, with a bit of a scrambling jump and awkward climbing, made his way into it as well. The pups were sleepy, for they were still growing bundles of energy, and he curled up between her feet. Verissa kept a hand on Remilia, scratching at her head between her ears. She smiled as Asher kissed at his horse, finding yet another endearing trait about the hardened man. Once he was sat, reins in hand, and the cart shuffling forward, she finally decided to ask.

"So where are we off to for this... vacation?"

Saying it aloud made it sound a bit silly to her, vacations were for city people, squatters as her new people called them. She knew the Kvaren took recreation and relaxation just like anyone else, but it made her ponder on if it counts as a vacation if one doesn't have a permanent home? They were simply visiting another part of what they considered home. She found her eyes wandering to the rolling grassy plains, bright and lush with life, hoping that at least this trip would be nice. She was tired of everything that seems to go well ending in disaster. A respite would be greatly appreciated.

[Drache]

The wagon trundled easily down the slope and away from the rumble of sounds and the smokey haze of the sprawling camp out into the growing darkness of the plains. Here the grass was short, barely up to Phantom's knees, and it undulated under the breeze like the ocean to the south. In some places on the Kerawac there was grass that towered so high entire armies could be swallowed up in it and never seen again.

It was quiet and cool out here, the wind full of the scent of growing grass and wild wheat. Yet the quietude did little to settle the whirl of confusing thoughts that turned over and over in Asher's mind, achieving nothing.

He didn't answer Verissa for a while, but it wasn't fair for him to keep her in the dark. He wanted better for her than to be treated as a slave. Turning, his storm-coloured eyes reflected the light of the waxing moon. With a twitch of his chisled jaw towards the seat beside him, he cleared his throat and said somewhat gruffly, "Will Remilia be alright if you come sit with me?"

"We're going to a place called the Grove. I haven't been there since I was a child. This is the first time the Thunderfangs have been near it since then." He didn't have to explain further. Verissa understood by now just how unbelievably massive the plains were, and how the tribes were constantly on the move, sometimes not traveling the same roads for decades. "I think you'll really enjoy it, but I don't want to say too much and ruin the surprise."

There was a ghost of a smile in his cheek, a fleeting thing like one of the rare jeweled grasskeets that glittered in the golden grass. Bringing Verissa to the Grove wasn't his only goal in this brief holiday. That much was spelled out in the stubborn tenseness in his strong shoulders, but he didn't readily elaborate.

"I also thought it might be nice to have some real privacy for once." Glancing over, there was a haunted look in his expression. "I almost killed a man over you today. I still might, when we get back. I can't stand the thought of you being hurt. Especially not...like that." She'd confided in him that she'd never actually been with any man, and somewhat that fact both inflamed his desire more and made him even more resistant to claim her that way than before.

Asher had never been very good at discussing his feelings and his struggle was evident, though there was more to what he wanted to explain than simple protectiveness.

[Twhirtley]

Verissa smiled at Asher's concern for Remilia. She gently picked up the dog and slumped her across her lap, as she scootched over next to Asher, giving her seat to the injured dog. She wondered why he was asking for her to be closer, maybe it was just to make conversing easier. She moved close enough for their legs to touch, so that Remilia would have plenty of room to be comfortable.

Verissa listened as he told her of their destination. It still amazed her just how big the Kerawac was. She'd always thought the Ebonfort Empire was huge, but these plains could easily be ten times the size of it or more. She wondered just how many people were here, and just how successful they'd be in a raid if they all went in on it together. It was still impressive to her just how so many people could not only survive, but thrive in such a harsh environment, without walls to live behind.

She saw the slight grin, heard the mild playfulness in his vagueness. This was something he thought she'd truly enjoy, a genuine gesture on his part. She found herself growing rather fond of these brief moments of kindness, softness in the hard man. They weren't often, but when they appeared, they truly stood out. But then came the comment on privacy. She wasn't entirely sure on what to make of that, for they had privacy within their shared tent. What was it that he was waiting for?

When he mentioned the incident from earlier with Jasper, however, her features hardened. Asher had saved her the first time against the man and his cruel desires. But Verissa was not going to be a victim again. Jasper, in her mind, was not Asher's problem, but her own. To assume responsibility for him, only further reminded her that she was Asher's property. He'd probably kill a man for damage to his horse or tent, just as toward his slave. She turned slightly away from him, trying to snuff out some of her anger, mixed at being a slave and at Jasper.

"I hurt him worse. I'd have cut his throat earlier, but missed my moment. No man will ever hurt me as he tried. I'll kill them all first."

She didn't care if it sounded ridiculous. After all, she had no skills at killing anyone, and had gotten incredibly lucky with her last meeting with Jasper. It was clear that she was still weak. But every word was dripping with venom and dedication. She meant what she'd said.

Still fuming, she looked off in the distance, her fist closest to Asher bone white from how hard it was clenched. She needed to become strong, to become free. She needed to became a true Kvaren. And to do that, to stop being treated like a slave, in her mind, she needed to stop acting like one. "I will be the one to kill Jasper. He's mine, not yours."

[Drache]

An amused and slightly savage grin lit Asher's face in response to the venom in Verissa's voice. He very much doubted that she would survive a true fight with one of his skilled warriors, or nearly any of the vicious and terrible beasts that inhabited the vast plains, but he appreciated her fervor. She would need to keep that feeling hot for a long time if she wanted to survive, moreso if she wanted to earn her freedom.

He lifted his hand and settled it on her bone-knuckled fist, his strong, warm fingers attempting to pry her hand open so that he could thread his fingers through her.

"So be it. As far as I'm concerned he has summoned his own jackals. I'll help you in any way that I can."

Resting the reigns across his lap as the wagon trundled on, Asher turned to face her better. "You're quick-witted, and you're already handling the staff better than I expected. One day, maybe in a year or so, you'll come back from the Hunt and be free to do what you please. You can use your magic to help you."

He wanted to say that he would miss her when she inevitably walked away from the Clan that had abducted her from her home and her life and treated her as a slave. It was a common enough occurrence. But that would be too close to admitting that he was becoming incredibly attached. He smiled sadly.

[Twhirtley]

Much to Verissa's own surprise, she relaxed as Asher's hand encompassed her own. She opened the fist, and felt relief and something... else, as his fingers intertwined with her own. There was a flutter of something within her stomach. She gave his hand the slightest of squeezes, a sort of thanks for acknowledging her claim on Jasper's life.

But a year of slavery made her stomach drop. She knew that she wasn't strong, and she knew from seeing the years of training the Ebon Knights had put in that a lot of time was needed to become strong. But it still felt like so long. And that was when she realized, thanks to Asher's words, that she had an advantage. Her magic. That could give her an edge, one to speed up the process. That also meant she would need to practice her magic just as hard as she practiced her staff. It meant a lot of exhausted nights. It meant a lot of pain. Verissa knew she had to do. She knew she had to be free. Free to choose the life she wanted.

She bumped her small shoulder against Asher's hard bicep playfully, "I have a good teacher." She looked over at him, her face smiling softly in appreciation, seeing the slightly forced smile on his own. Deciding to edge away from these thoughts of freedom and separation, she lifted his hand up between them, "Would you like to see it? My magic?"

Without waiting for permission, she let the magic flow from all of the skin of her hand, bleeding through Asher's hand. He wouldn't be able to feel the magic, but he'd be able to see the lavender glow spreading through his hand. She covered both their hands in the liquid like magic, letting him study the glow if he so desired. Then she expanded it, making it into a bubble around their hands, glowing, clearly stretched and strained, some spots clearly thinner than others. Then she nodded at it, and it disappeared from sight.

"It's a bit rushed, but try to touch your hand with the other." She knew it was a weak shield, but it kept their wrists together, like a snug sleeve. It would prevent any pokes or prodding from breaking through, but even a proper punch would break it. "I met a man once. Sort of a man. A shade. He was a knight. He told me this magic used to be called Praetorio, old tongue for protect or walls. I prefer to call it shielding. It reminds me of the shields that the knights used to protect themselves and others." She paused, to look at her dogs, both of whom were trying to nap, "I used it as a cast to help set Remilia's leg. I've used it to stop people from bleeding out that would've otherwise died. And... I used it that first night we met, when Jasper tried to kill me. It protects me and others. That's all I know of it really."

[Drache]

Asher's brow went up playfully and he couldn't help but grin at the blonde beside him. "Oh yeah? I like to think I'm a good teacher, and I'm glad you think so."

At her offer to show him what she could do, Ash's expression became one of undivided interest. His storm-grey eyes dropped to their lifted hands, the lavender glow reflecting off his face as he watched. Goosebumps raced across his arm as the shield seemed to flow across their hands. He couldn't feel it, but the idea that he should be able to feel what his eyes were seeing was eerie and made his skin prickle.

When it disappeared, Asher thought that the trick was over and was surprised and impressed that the vanishing of the glow was only the beginning. He tried to wiggle his fingers but could not. Following Verissa's prompting, Asher lifted his other hand and tried to poke at their joined fist. He found his progress blocked by something invisible. In some spots he got closer than others, and occasionally the unseen shield didn't seem as sturdy, but he was clearly in awe.

"There are so many possibilities for this in fighting alone," he observed. "Have you told Shenzi? I'm sure she could use something like this in the Healer's tent all the time. Like stopping bleeding maybe?" He wasn't a healer and didn't even have the words for some of the treatments he had seen the fox-faced Aesenshi perform.

While Verissa shared what she knew about her magic, Asher began prodding higher and higher on her arm, trying to figure out where the sensation of the shield started. Once he felt her actual skin, he didn't stop, letting his fingers trail up her arm until he held her chin gently in his hand. "You're very clever. And I don't think you need me to tell you that. If things were different..."

His brow furrowed and he dropped his hand, cutting himself off before he said something that might upset both of them.

"I think we're far enough from the camp for tonight. Should we stop? There's no need to set up the tent. We can just sleep under the stars and get an early start in the morning."

[Twhirtley]

Verissa enjoyed the look of wonderment in Asher's eyes. He was genuinely intrigued and interested and... impressed in her ability. There was no fear in his eyes, no need to stab her in the heart for having this magic, no need to lock her up as a monster. He fully accepted her as she was. She also learned something valuable in her magic at that moment. Each time he poked, she could feel it ever so slightly. Not against her skin, but in her being. She could feel it through her magic. That alone had so many applications.

When his fingers trailed up her arm, it raised slight goosebumps upon her skin, eliciting a shiver from the woman. His massive, hardened hand held her chin as gently as one might hold a flower. Under his praise her cheeks flushed red and she felt the need to try and look away from his eyes. But she savored the moment, seeing how his eyes resembled stormy clouds in the distant sky. How they could turn into life giving rains or torrential floods at the drop of a hat. She felt that described this man well. There was pain in those eyes, as well as joy from time to time. She knew that he used to have a wife from something Shenzi mentioned once. Verissa assumed that the woman died.

There would always be a ghost haunting those eyes.

And in that moment, Verissa felt her own grow a bit watery, so she tore away her gaze, nearly muttering the phrase that was on her tongue. 'Things could be different,' but the words never came. She let the shield fade away, feeling the energy drift back into the world. "Yes, let's stop."

When they did, she began setting up their sleeping space. She set out their bedrolls side by side, making the warming furs ever so neat and tidy. She set Remilia on the far side of hers, crawling beneath them with the injured dog. Remus laid near her head, his snout always pointing in Asher's direction. She wondered if it would be cold tonight. She lay on her side, facing Asher's side. She really wanted to ask about what made him sad, but also didn't want to bring him more pain. So she just lie there, watching the man, sometimes the stars, and sometimes just listening to the wind. She realized she'd never slept under the stars when she was in Ebonfort. Nor had she come so close to sharing a bed with a man. But his bed was still taken by his wife. It seemed anyone could see that.

She'd have to leave at some point it seemed. There was no room for her in his life. Rolling over and cuddling Remilia, she let the silent tears flow, not sure if they were for him or for herself.

[Drache]

When they slept in his tent there was less opportunity to stretch out. In many ways it was quieter than in the camp. No constant murmur of distant voices, no yip-yapping of the clan's dogs, no crying infants or scraping of cook-pots or anything like that. Asher hadn't even bothered to start a fire as the spring and his blankets would be warm enough and his belly wasn't bothered by hunger.

But that wasn't to say the night was quiet. Tied on a long lead to the wagon, Phantom occasionally shifted position or stretched down to pluck a mouthful of the green grass to snack on through the night. Nightbirds trilled, sweeter than the droning of the grasshoppers. It was peaceful, but seemed to sharpen the dull ache of loss in his chest that had persisted these last ten years. He missed Wren. He always would. Her death seemed too cruel and meaningless to have happened at all. But when Asher glanced over and saw the svelte line of Verissa's hip and waist shudder with silent tears he cursed himself for being selfish. How much had Verissa lost? Everything in her life except whatever he'd allowed her to stuff in a bag before he'd forced her out of her burning home and a pair of dogs, one of which was injured.

Drifting off into a restless sleep, Asher dreamed formless dreams of loss.

--

It was nearing daybreak when they woke, the wind already warm on their faces before the sun had ever risen. Rolling over and ignoring the chuff of warning from the dogs, Asher settled his hand on Verissa's shoulder, lettiing it slide over her blanket down to her hip.

"It's morning, lovely. Time to go."

The day was a beautiful one, the sky clear and the going easy. The winter rains had long gone and it wasn't yet hot enough to be overbearing. The further Asher drove them in the wagon, the greener the grass around them seemed to become. There was always a variety of plants anywhere a person could look, but here there seemed to be something encouraging them to grow larger and more productive than before. It wasn't long until they came to a patch of blueberries that were easily quadruple the size of regular ones.

As they stopped to gather some, a small flock of colourful finches raced each other through the thorny vines. Upon closer inspection they turned out to be tiny griffons.

And though they talked about many things while they traveled, it was clear that Asher was expecting the explosion of plantlife, but refused to divulge. He only grinned and shook his head, telling Verissa "You'll see."

At one point just after noon, they crested a rolling hill and came across an entire valley of lavender flowers, the fragrant purple crowns dotted here and there with chamomile bushes. As the wagon tilted down to carve a wake through the flowers, a honeybee the size of Asher's fist bumbled buzzily past his head. They were everywhere.

[Twhirtley]

Verissa awoke easily, having slept without any disturbance. She really didn't want to leave the cozy warmth of her bed, but the day was beautiful to say the least. Remus walked out near Phantom sniffing at the air, keeping as alert as he could for any dangers, being the more attentive of the two. Remilia sat between Verissa and Asher, desperately wanting to join her brother, but Verissa didn't want her walking just yet, though soon. Remilia slumped her head down in Asher's lap, looking up at him during most of the ride, more as a curiosity than anything.

As they continued onward, Verissa noticed something odd about this place. Everything seemed... bigger. The grasses, flowers, everything seemed to be getting larger as they went. She kept looking back at Asher, knowing that he knew about this already, wanting explanation, being tormented by his desire to surprise her. When she saw the blueberries, she hopped down from the wagon, staff in one hand, basket in the other. Remus was immediately at her side. These berries were enormous, both in bush and in fruit. They looked so amazingly healthy as well, deep in color, no sign of any rot, pests, or anything foul. They were perfect. It took no time at all to fill her basket, and her mouth.

Teeth stained purple, she saw the tiny little birds and smiled. Until she got a closer look. Then she was reminded of a story her father told her as a child. Excitedly she shouted, startling the little birds a bit, "Are these griffins?!" She found herself giggling as she did as a girl. Griffins were huge, and in this land of giant plants, they were tiny. Everything was backwards, and it amuse her to no end.

She climbed back into the wagon, offering the berries to Asher as a breakfast, and immediately began filling his ear with chatter about the stories her father told her of griffins, throwing out theories as to why everything was so big, from a magic gardener to super water to this spot getting more sunlight than any other. It was the most she'd ever talked to him since her capture.

Verissa lost track of time until they came over a hill and saw a valley the color of her eyes. Lavender. That plant was one of the most used in her herbalism. It was a staple for all herbalists. It helped keep wounds from festering and rotting. And there was more than enough to supply her entire tribe for hundreds of years. And that was when she realized why everything was so big, with a field of these flowers so huge that it was practically a sea, with islands of other flowering plants.

Just as one buzzed past Asher's head, in an excited whisper, "It's the bees." Once she'd made that realization, she began to see them everywhere, working fervently, maintaining this oasis of plush life. And they were huge, rat sized. She looked over at Asher with eyes of wonder and appreciation. "This is... you brought me here... because you know I... Thank you."

She climbed out of the wagon, and helped Remilia down as well, "Be careful and stay close." Remilia tested her injured leg, but the shield held firm. Verissa had not only made it well, but there was such a strong desire to protect her pup that it only bolstered the magic. Verissa moved to the back of the wagon, grabbing her kit, several baskets, some rope, "Asher, come help me with this, we can't pass this up. I don't know why we brought so many pot... oh..,"at which she began laughing heartily, "We're getting honey for that wily fox aren't we?"

"Well move along, we don't have all season."

She stood at the back of the wagon, arms outstretched full of all the tools for the Swordmaster to carry. "This is going to be fun." She turned and moved into the field, only carrying her kit, stopping at the first massive bundle of lavender. She knelt down, studying it. She saw the giant bees flitting about within them, unconcerned about her presence. She doubted many creatures messed with bees this big. She picked out the biggest, healthiest stalks, and snipped them free, making sure to only take a few from each plant, so that they could continue to grow healthily. Each big bundle she made, she tied up and hung from a rope and handed to Asher. "I could stay here for so long, it's a magical place. Are there many places of such... wonderful oddness in the Kerawac? Like this?"

[Drache]

It made Asher indescribably happy to see a smile blossom across Verissa's face at the sight of the blueberries. He knew that there would be even more wonders where they came from as it was still several hour to their destination. He ate a meal of blueberries, stashing some in a woven basket in the wagon to bring back to his tribe. If Wren were still around he'd have a wife and child to bring things to as well, but now he was just happy to see Verissa enjoying herself.

He stubbornly refused to give in to the constant questioning, but listened with interest to her speculations. This was more than she'd talked to him since they met and it was wonderful to learn just how knowledgable she was, to make such intelligent guesses, and also how imaginitive she could be. It startled him with Remilia dropped her head in his lap, but he was quick to take advantage, stroking the creature's head and ears. He never thought the dogs would take to him, and it was a distinct lesson about trust taking time to earn. Would Verissa ever trust him? She trusted him some, but deeply? Would he always be the man who kidnapped her from her home and was expected to claim her body like property?

Ash tried to ignore the intrusive blackness of his thoughts. Verissa was down with the flowers now, wading through them as she stopped to pick them. "It's not just the bees," he promised.

He grinned when Verissa ordered him down from the wagon and tied Phantom's reigns back up on the harness so that she could wander unimpeded. He tucked the herbalist's gear in his arms, handing it back to her when she needed it. He trailed along behind her keeping a watchful eye.

"There are lots of magical places in the Kerawac and not all of them are good like this. And they aren't the same. None are quite like this. You'll see." He sighed. For all the wondrousness of this place, there was something sad about it too.

As they moved through the fields the bees simply bumbled around them, working hard to collect massive amounts of pollen. It seemed that when their were laden they headed towards the same direction Asher was guiding them. Verissa would find practically every herb she had ever heard of that could survive in this balmy climate, each one huge and glossy and ripe for harvesting. Berry and nut bushes were nearly bent over from the weight of their own fruits. The wagon was soon packed with more herbs than Verissa could ever use by herself, but would go a long way to proving her worth and earning her respect with not just the Thunderfangs but the other tribes they might chance to trade with at the upcoming Gathering.

By midafternoon the breeze had shifted slightly and suddenly the sky was full of something that danced and fluttered on the wind. Hundreds, thousands of soft pink petals that had a faint but sweet fragrance and scattered over the pair. Turning to look at Verissa, Asher smiled. "We're almost there. Just over the hill now."

Leading the horse and wagon by the reigns, Asher lead the way, and at the top of the rise they came across a valley containing a single tree. But to call it that would be a disservice. By itself it was large enough to contain the entire village of Silent Rise. It had one trunk, a massive pillar of dark gnarled wood that rooted in more than one spot, dark shadows of secret crevices betweem the roots that could be seen even from where Asher stood. A large pond had formed in the rocky ground at the tree's feet, the clear shallow water bubbling up from some natural well and trickling down in a meandering southward path towards the ocean.

As they looked on, a gust ruffled the impossible crown of the gargantuan plant and a swarm of pink flowers lifted from where they were festooned on every bough, bearing them aloft to places unknown. The field around it was waist high with all the flowers bees love. Foxglove, sunflowers, chamomile, columbine. Snapdragons, crocus, and lilac. Zinnias, witch hazel, and goldenrod. A profusion of colour that Asher had never seen anywhere else and probably never would.

But if the sight of the impossibly huge tree wasn't enough, there was a feeling about it that was hard to deny. Asher had felt it before and knew the tree's secret. He took a chance and tucked his arm around Verissa's back, hugging her to his side.

"Beautiful, isn't it? Many of the tribes don't even know it's here. I thought you might like to see it. Shall we go say hello?"

[Twhirtley]

Verissa immediately set to work, knowing full well that she could fill the wagon to the brim with plants and such, and make no noticeable dent in this area. It rivaled the cultivated farms of Ruby Banks, with a much greater variety, and a true harmony with nature. That was one of the greatest difficulties for the farmers back home, having to constantly fight nature, push it back, try to contain it. Here, nature did what it did best.

She managed to gather lots of lavender, connal, fauxsil, midwife miracle, hawthorn, and so many others. She could spend so much time here, learning a lot. Any herbalist could. It broke her heart that this might be the only time she'd be here for so many years. She'd have to make the most of it. She wish she'd have thought to pack her ink and books from her home. Making notes and drawings helped so much, especially when teaching others. And her new people weren't known for writing things down, preferring verbal and physical lessons. She'd just have to adapt it all to memory. It was her new way.

Many hours were spent packing the cart as tight as would allow, aside from Shenzi's empty pots. Food, herbs, roots; Verissa knew if they had more time, and maybe some more skilled hands, she could process many of these here, and bring back more. But it was not to be, she'd more than make do with what she had. Verissa was happily munching on a fleshy melon, having already fed the dogs some of the smoked meat they brought along. As she was biting into it, juice dribbling down her chin, a pink petal landed on her nose, crossing her eyes as she looked at it. Looking over her food, she saw more of them tumbling through the wind, an impossible amount, as if from an entire forest of whatever shed them.

As Asher brought her over the hill, her jaw literally dropped open. There was a massive tree in the center of a well watered valley. She couldn't be sure, but she thought that it might be taller than even Ebonfort's mighty Citadel. It bore the millions of flowers that were showering the land, spreading the nutrients that it pulled from the earth. She had no doubt this tree, and its water source there, were responsible for all of the life here. She wondered what fruit it bore, maybe cherry? Maybe a nut? It was stunning, a pristine wonder of nature. She felt a comfort washing over her just by being near it. Part of her wanted to rush into this wonderland, and another wanted her to never touch it, for she could only make it lesser.

She felt Asher's arm tuck around her back pulling her close, and heard the expect growl from her pups. But she didn't resist, her mood so high and prosperous. She leaned into the crook of his arm, a palm against his hard muscled chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat. Her voice a soft, relaxed whisper now, "It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen. It's... perfect." She was quiet, enjoying this nice moment with him, the safety and beauty of it all. Then she realized what else he'd said, shooting an incredulous look up at him, wondering if it was a flourish of his words or if he meant it more literally. Nothing would surprise her anymore. Nodding, "Yes, let's do that."

[Drache]

He couldn't help himself. In those precious few moments that Verissa let him get away with it he hugged her close, tucking his chin a little so that he could rest his cheek against the top of her head, his nose full of that mixed herb scent that seemed to be a permanent part of her. Though after her work in the open prairie there was a lingering fragrance of freshly-cut plants as well.

Before they ventured down into the valley, Asher un-harnessed Phantom from the wagon and braced it with some stones, letting the gray steed wander where she wanted. With that done and the wagon still in sight, he offered Verissa his hand with a soft smile and shook some of the petals from his hair. "Let's go."

It didn't take long to cross from the sunlit meadow into the dappled shade of the vast cherry tree. The soft breeze created a constant rush of noise and a rain of petals, as well as the creak and groan of gray-brown limbs that could have easily supported the weight of a dragon. Somewhat louder than that, however, was the languid humming of more honeybees than they could have ever counted.

"Is it strange that the sound made by the world's busiest animal makes me want to nap?" Asher mused thoughtfully as they walked along. And huge honeybees weren't the only oversized critter sheltered by the colossus. The occasional fuzzy black bumblebee drifted along also, nearly as big as Asher's head. At this size their round multi-faceted eyes gave them a rather endearing sort of face. And the occasional rapid burst of colour heralded the brief passage of an enormous butterfly or moth.

The closer they drew to the trunk the more and more they could spy the amber sheets of honeycomb built in hanging sheets from the limbs. Each cell contained at least a palmful of the precious golden honey. If there was a Queen lurking about somewhere she had yet to be seen. The more of the expansive hive they say, the more the ground became uneven with the presence of gnarled roots. For the most part, Asher clambered over them on his own and expected Verissa to do the same, but once or twice he would attempt to lift her down, seemingly for no other reason than wanting to touch her for a moment.

"We won't take any honey until we have permission," he advised at one point when a couple of bees seemed to buzz in a somewhat more agitated way as they passed. The first sign that this place wasn't as benign as it appeared was a very old and brittle skeleton, a humanoid ribcage, mostly grown over with roots.

Finally, Asher refused to go any further, though the large trunk was quite close. "Nonna Ge'an!" He called loudly into the shaded clearing. He used a word that might have been grandmother, but also denoted a respected elder. "We are friends from the Kerawac..." he seemed a little uncertain. He hadn't been here in two decades and that was a lot of time for things to change. "Is it alright for us to say hello?"