Side A – Nia
The Darkwood was swallowing Nia up. She wasn’t in any peril, but walking among its ancient trees once more, she was struck by just how vast it was.
“I thought coming home was supposed to make everything seem smaller?” she said, running hand along bark whose familiarity sang at her touch.
“You are certainly much large in comparison to it than you used to be,” Kyra said. “But this is the Darkwood.”
Nia half expected to see the spirit of the wood appear before her in response to that, but what need was there for that when Nia could feel the Darkwood’s beat thrumming within her?
“It does leave me wondering how they’re coming along with accommodations,” Osdora said. “It’s been a little easier on the Stoneling side I think since our rooms already fit all the Elves who’d want to be in them.”
“There’s plenty of room for us here,” Nia said, half in a trance of scent and touch memories.
“She’s more worried about beds,” Gossma said. “These bones aren’t as young as they used to be. On either one of us.”
“I have a feeling you’ll sleep more soundly tonight than you’ve slept for many years then,” Kyra said.
“At the very least there shouldn’t be any Troubles to disturb your slumber,” Ilia said.
Nia recognized the former goddess from bits of Yasgrid’s memories but was struck by how decidedly normal the young elven woman before her looked.
“You’re here for our wayward Fate Dancers I’m guessing?” Ilia asked.
“Oh, have they taken to wandering around? I’d gathered they were a bit more comatose than that,” Nia said, mentally reviewing her the nebulous plan she had in mind.
“Physically? Yeah, they are like-unto-logs. It’s their spirits which have gone on a bit of a journey,” Ilia said, leaping to a low branch to be more in line with the Stoneling’s head heights.
Nia wondered if that would become the common means for Stonelings and Elves to interact – she’d noticed similar ‘perching’ behavior on Gray Falls where mixed groups were meeting. Kyra had chosen to remain on the ground though and was inspecting the various flowers and bugs they walked past as Ilia led them towards what Nia assumed was the Fate Dancer encampment.
“It’s not just the Fate Dancers,” Kyra said, stroking the petals of a Honeylick flower. “Everything with a spirit here has been affected.”
Nia paused. Osdora paused. Gossma paused. Even Ilia paused.
“Are you saying that the flowers here have spirits too?” Osdora asked.
“She would be correct in that. Or rather that they are all a part of the greater spirit which makes up the Darkwood,” llia said.
“More importantly, are you saying that the flowers here are trapped in the same Resonance state the Fate Dancers are?” Gossama asked. “The same Resonance state that it should have been impossible for the Fate Dancers to be trapped in?”
Nia knelt down and touched the flower Kyra had been inspecting.
It was a perfectly ordinary flower. Pale yellow tinged with brown-gold like all Honeylicks were, the same faint sweet scent and slightly fuzzy petals of a standard Honeylick.
But Nia felt cold.
And something about the flower felt wrong.
She gave it a slight tug, gentle even by Elven standards, to see if it was as well rooted as it should have been and the flower snapped free.
Nia had only a moment to stare at it before it withered, blackened, and crumbled to ash in her hand.
Side B – Yasgrid
Being overwhelmed by the scale of a Stoneling city was, fortunately, not a new experience for Yasgrid.
“Getting here was easy enough,” Margrada said, gazing back from the enormous arch which was being constructed over the freestanding portal which linked Gray Rift to Frost Harbor. “Moving around town may be a different matter though.”
Throngs of people, mostly Stonelings but with more than a few Elves in evidence as well, filled the streets, moving hither and thither in some cases, but more often stopping to conduct business in the new and rapidly evolving pidgin which people were simply calling ‘Trade Speech’.
“We could travel by rooftop?” Marianne suggested, which was probably viable for herself and Yasgrid.
Yasgrid tried to imagine a Stoneling of Margrada’s size leaping from roof to roof and what damage was sure to result. Then there was Naosha, who never seemed to travel by so vigorous a means as leaping when simple walking would suffice.
“Oh, don’t you worry there,” Horgi said.
“We’ll get you through just fine,” Grash said.
“Nobody stands in the way of Roady on official business,” they said together and knelt down, inviting the Elves to ride on their shoulders.
Naosha, Yasgrid was surprised to see, was the first to accept their offer, walking lightly up Horgi’s outstretched arm to perch on his left shoulder.
“I’d offer a ride too, but I should go see my Gram before she hears that I’m back in town from anyone else,” Margrada said.
“I’d like to come with you, if you think that would be okay?” Yasgrid said.
“Aren’t you here for the drums?” Marianne asked.
“For Nia’s drum, yes,” Yasgrid said. “I’m guessing Horgi and Grash would like a chance to talk with the other Roadies about what happened before I make my offer to them though. You’ll have a remembrance to perform at least right?”
She addressed the last bit to two Roadies. Horgi responded with a silent nod, to which Grash added a rueful smile.
Stonelings, as a rule, did not violate anyone’s grave, and from little the Roadies had let slip, the resting place of the broken Shatter drum was held as their holiest of gravesites.
“I wouldn’t mind the company to be honest,” Margrada said. “Also I might need you to play a drum to convince her I haven’t lost my mind.”
“I’m pretty sure I can do better than that,” Yasgrid said, ideas already forming in her head.
“Sorcery?” Margrada asked, apparently knowing that wasn’t the answer from the tone in her voice.
“Nope. I just thought I’d tell her Nia is really like!”