Running a finger along the rim of my glass, I swirl the wine about under the gentle rose light. Holding it up higher, I watch as the amber that makes up the glass taints the beautiful rose colour. Taking a final sip from it, I put it down and stand up with grace and tact. Brushing my rose-coloured dress away from my left side, I expose it with a knowing smile and I make sure the rest is tight-fitting.

Grabbing my staff by its stalk, it sings softly as my free hand finds my bare hip. Glancing over at the entrance to my bulb, I spot a shadow moving closer. The rattle of the carefully crafted steel plate and the sharp outline of the spiked armour make it clear who it is. An appropriately ranked thorn is coming to speak to me.

Well, as appropriately ranked as an incompletely named aelenvari can be...

"You may enter." I answer the patient shadow brightly as I turn to look at an empty pedestal. Carefully caressing the cold, plump cushion, I frown distastefully at the thought of what it needs. A seed. But, not mine.

"Ivy-Mother, we have found the source of that magic. Mostly travelling wind-people and an oxfuine." she answers with a respectful dim as they bow to project the light of their true-voice elsewhere.

"Deal with them, they're not my concern. Tell me about the paths ahead." I tell them as I start to think about my stolen love's desires. However bitter they make me...

"But, Ivy-Mother, they carry a seed with them!" the thorn brightens up their true-voice at.

Turning to face her, I tilt my head and trace a hand up through my open front and up to my chin, "The seed of an unborn child?"

"Yes, Ivy-Mother." she answers as the respectful dimness returns.

"Bring them as far as the Sepal, I will not trek out through the Roots to meet them." I explain, placing a hand over my pair of bulbs to shutter my true-voice. Just thinking about the forefront of our flower disgusts me. However, I could bring these travellers even closer to the Stigma, maybe even into its reserved, pure and elite privacy.

"Yes, Ivy-Mother. I shall return with them." they oblige, bowing as they leave, they close my bulb as they go. Their shadow rises back up and their outline vanishes. Others pass my bulb by, but I have no business with any of them. My attention is only for Him now, my stolen love...

Whipping my tail in anger, I sound my exit with the forceful thrust of my tubed points. Using a gust of beautiful wind magic, I blow open the rose-red fabric entrance of my bulb. Stepping out onto the marble floor, I glance down as magic still courses through the veins of the fine stone. But, even with all their effort, the meadow-maidens make an ugly light compared to mine.

Looking away from the great marble platform, I focus on the light of the Stigma. My stolen love is no doubt brooding over there as he has been since the incident. I may love him, but this persistence of his to find the thief is loathsome. My involvement with her disappearance is not even my concern, it's just her!

This admirable quality of the Gilded-Bark is being used for such a vile, ugly purpose. His dedication should be towards me, not her. But, no... In his eyes, dandelions are the most beautiful, not roses.

I want him to understand that he is guiding us towards barren land. She is dead and unfortunately, her unborn child might be as well. They might share her blood, would they have been born, but I sensed a future man in that seed. The yellow-haired fool walked right into my trap with her unborn son as if she was just galavanting about!

But, I am the Ivy-Mother, he is the Gilded-Bark. I cannot argue the point with him, not in open governance or within the limited privacy of mine or his bulb. His mind is set, there is no changing it, not even through my attempts at subtlety. We are stuck on this pest hunt for the time being...

Sighing softly, I vent my frustrations as I close in on the wattle-walled throneroom. Directing my attention first upon the two blazing, crimson fires. I sprinkle holy incense into the divinely wrought fires dedicated to Pleasure and Motherhood. Going through the necessary motions, I leave them behind and smile at my stolen love.

Every time I see him, it's like I have only just met him. His body may be physically deformed, hardened and stiff in the wrong places and hideously covered in growths to the idiot's eye. But, his body brims with the purest magic I have ever seen. I can barely see any of his flaws inherited from the Pestilence when his body contains such power!

Clicking and clacking across the amber-studded marble floor, I stand before the flower's Gilded-Bark. He pays me no mind, unfortunately, but I pay my respects all the same. Turning away from him, I reach for the ground so that he may see my well-defined lower shape. Then, I return to facing him with a pleasant rose tint on my cheeks.

Coming up along his right side, I place my staff aside and trace a finger along his muscles. While the hardness of his skin horrifies me, I have learned to appreciate one thing about it. There is a path I can gently trace with my index finger and it leads me along his well-built frame perfectly. Reaching the end of his right arm, I wrap myself around him.

Fitting into the gap at the side of his throne, I tenderly spread myself against him. His arm between my soft breasts, I place my head on his shoulder and the warmth on my face grows. I focus on what I can see, but, I am bitter over how I know he is not looking at me. So I try to distract my mind by looking at the opulence of the Stigma.

Wealth is one way to put it simply, gold, gems of every kind. All of it is carved in some form of likeness reminiscent of our species' father god, Pluuit. We aelenvari might not share the greener skin of our millennia-distant ancestors, but we remember our origins. Humans came from the spilt blood of the gods mixing with the earth during the Fourteen's betrayal.

We came from the garden-monts during the time of the Water Seal.

To honour that fact, there is not a single blemish to be found anywhere. No carelessness ever made its way into our art and decoration, not up here, anyway. I've made a thorough effort to ensure that. It is times like this which are best suited for such inspections as well.

My mind cannot focus so close to my stolen love, I need something to dull it. My heart despises this, however, and I cannot help but let it win. Reminding the Gilded-Bark of my presence, I return my focus to him. Pressing my chest against his skin some more, I move my lips close to his ear so that he feels my hot, sweet breath.

His lips start to move and my thin tolerance for words is built up, "Ivy-Mother..."

"How may I serve you, My Gilded-Bark?" I answer with my own words. Though horrible as it feels to speak, I quite enjoy the gentle song of my voice. It pairs so finely with his as if it is a perfectly woven skirt of lacey silk.

"Why do the gods forsake me?" he asks quietly as we bathe in the shared heat of the holy fires. Holding him tighter, I want to tell him how he hasn't been forsaken by them. I want him to feel my love for him and...

"The gods and goddesses have not, Gilded-Bark. We move to resolve this issue as fast as we can." I explain instead to him as I trace a finger around his opposite cheek.

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"My son, Dandel'lhia... They're both gone... I'll never plant him and we'll never make more. The Pestilence cursed our kind all that time ago and I can no longer help my people. For all the things I can do, my main duty is not one of them." he despairs as the sparkles of his heartful tears light up his face.

"There are ways around this... You are not unable to impregnate others..." I suggest, subtly glazing my lips with my tongue as I press up against him some more.

"Ivy-Mother," he goes as he looks over at an accursed memento, "I can have a whole harem of Dandelion'lhias. Women greater than my lover ever could be. But they would not be her. They would be bodies I hold not one bit of love for."

"There are other choices." I point out as my lips twitch near his cheek. Ever hopeful for him to just turn and place his against mine. But, he doesn't even look my way. He just laments over the loss of his prized woman...

An inferior breed alright, just as he said. Not worthy of a full name like me. Dandel'lhia... I am Rose'lhia!

Ivy-Mother Rose'lhia!

She was just Dandel'lhia...

"No, there is only her. There will only ever be her." he snorts as he glances up at his spear as it hangs overhead. He is far too eager to stain it with the blood of an entire hive of parasites.

"Th-" I start to say before that thorn comes rushing in without any grace or tact, something she should have. Sneering at the thorn, I rise up and away from the body of my stolen love. Grabbing my staff, I approach them as they wait for me. Looking down at them, I let my magic ebb clearly from its dangling, leaf-inspired decorations.

"Ivy-Mother, Our Esteemed Gilded-Bark. The group the wild-seers found is here, waiting." they explain just bright enough to be seen past the holy fires. But, frankly, I am tempted to swing an ornate tube of mine against their skull. There is a certain kind of irredeemable arrogance that I detest nearly as much as the thief.

"Ivy-Mother, attend to these people. Find out what they want and be rid of them." my stolen love orders as he bends forward to pick up the memento. Hiding my disgust and anger, I nod in understanding and I give him a parting curtsey.

"Would you appreciate light about them before you see them, Ivy-Mother?" the thorn asks as they rise up to follow me. Swinging my hips about carefully with the vain hope my stolen love will pop a peeking glance.

"No, I will assess it without your taint." I answer, outshining them as they bring their head down.

"Of course, Ivy-Mother." they dimly answer as we head out into the Petals. Taking in their glances, I confidently stride past the well-dressed women of our flower's best and brightest. Smiling at the pregnant ones, I quietly offer them blessings of Ordoar, God of Order. The First Son, luck be willing, will grant us many once we return to the garden-mont to plant them.

"Ivy-Mother, come, let us save our flower!" a man calls out as a taint-haired rose sprawls her body over them.

"Blessings upon you, sacred son." I brightly answer as the other men start to laugh at his failed courting. The inspiration for his current display of justly-inspired lust is appreciated, though.

"Just up here, Ivy-Mother." the thorn tells me as she breaks away to join her fellow thorns in their protective duty. Coming to a stop at the blurry line between the Sepals and the Petals, I glance at our guests. One stands out far beyond anyone I have ever seen before, even injured, she is beautiful... I honestly struggle to keep my posture before such a beautiful woman.

This power is immense!

But, besides her are a far more visually manageable bunch. Three men of the wind-people, with two of them looking rather excited. I keep my disgust for their behaviour in my head, my contempt for the stems around us encouraging this stays there too. Finally, there is a root among them.

A magicless whelp of the oxfuine...

"Why is she here...?" I question the oxfuine as I glare at the contents of her hands. The seed in her grip. A seed I know the markings of very well. The flower may only whisper about the travellers with a seed, but I know that is the Gilded-Bark's son...

They're alive.

I recognise the taste of his magic upon its hardened shell. As did I recognise the thief's piss-like marking of its sacred exterior. But, despite the foul mother it came from. It is detestable that such a hideous little creature holds the seed!

I almost want to have her run through so that we may save the seed from her...

"W-We want to trade this..." the root weakly mutters, clearly taken aback by my tone.

"Trade?" I question, scoffing at the suggestion entirely. But, taking the seed into her grip, the injured wind-person steps forward with it. Stepping forth to meet them, I brace myself against her so that she does not fall. Feeling the power-rimming skin, I slightly catch its tan colour through my magic-focused vision.

"P-Please... We need your help." the woman brightly answers as she does her best to show me her hand. Delicately, I fold her fingers and force the magic to dispel. I smile clearly for her and I take the seed into my hands. Letting her beautiful body stay against me, I turn my smile onto the seed.

"How may we reward you, Champion?" I ask her with well-earned words. Yet, she just frowns at the appropriately given title. She does not want it?

"Do not call me that, please..." she groans as she clutches her wound. Lending what power I can, I try to ease her pain. My magic is nothing compared to hers, but, even a lone coin helps the beggar.

"Not Valkinvar, not Champion. Just hate titles now, don't you?" one of the men remarks to himself quietly. My eyes widen and I look at the woman with newfound respect. Her armour and sword start to make so much sense now. I have seen this style before.

Power.

"V-Valkinvar... How may we help you?" I correct myself as she frowns at the title.

"Rest... Food... Anything you'd be willing to part with." she begs as I start to put more of my strength towards her comfort. It is an odd experience, but such difficulties are more than deserved for a Valkinvar! Our shared kinship as holy women is one thing, but her strength... Well, if she was a he, I don't know if I'd be able to hold myself back.

"Take her group to a thoroughly-sized bulb, prepare them a meal... And fetch water from the lake for baths." I order everyone else present as I adjust my hold on the Valkinvar. Helping her along, I bring both her and the seed towards the Gilded-Bark. It takes some time, doing this on my own, but we make it. When we do, the Gilded-Bark stirs in a way I haven't seen since my botched plan happened.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asks as he watches me, completely baffled as I help the Valkinvar.

"Do you have the strength to answer?" I ask her as she continues to stagger against me. Moving a glowing hand up, she tries to beseech the Gilded-Bark with her true-voice. Shaking my head, I stop her arm and push it down.

"Gilded-Bark... We have come to offer you something great in exchange... For your aid." the Valkinvar explains to him as his focus stays on the seed. Doing my best to clean it, he walks slowly to it at first. Building up into a charge, he snatches it away from me and he starts to weep. Cuddling his unborn son, he wails for all to hear.

"MY BOY!" he declares with streaming eyes as everyone -even the should-be-focused thorns- watches him.

"It is not a dream, My Gilded-Bark." I happily inform as he holds the seed in front of himself. Trembling without control, he starts to quieten down until he is just staring at it. Turning on the centrepiece of the Stigma, his power reaches for his spear.

"I refuse." he says as the spear lands in his outreached hand with a powerful shake.

"My... My Gilded-Bark?" I question as he continues to protectively clutch his unborn son.

"I will not trade my son's life for aid." he firmly states to us. The Valkinvar starts to step away from me. Barely, she makes it to the Gilded-Bark upright.

"My friend, the one who saved that seed, gave his life so that we could escape the osibindah with it!" she hisses as the power I have been passing onto her is put to unintended use.

"Tell me where the hive is." the Gilded-Bark demands as he moves his spear forwards.

"Not until his sacrifice means something!" the Valkinvar bites as her tremendous power ropes onto a far greater, more powerful artefact. Stepping into the bright, pure stream of magic, I interrupt the flow of it so I can mediate the dispute.

This power.

"Gilded-Bark, this Champion, on behalf of their efforts... We should help them." I explain as the Valkinvar's power starts to cause me physical discomfort. Such raw strength focusing around me...

He puts his spear at ease, "Fine. For the sake of the one who saved my son."

The Valkinvar stumbles backwards and I rush to catch her, "Come, let me provide you a bed."

"I'm... I'm fine..." she lies as she forces her way to stand by herself.

"Valkinvar, please." I plead as she struggles to walk away.

"Don't call me that..." is all she has to say before she goes on her way. Watching a thorn come with my staff, I take it from them and turn to the Gilded-Bark.

"Is there a reason to be so difficult?" I glow in question.

"If you ever become a parent, you might understand." he answers and pain fills my chest. Finding myself in a distasteful mood, I ponder what to do.

"They will tell us where the hive is. We'll have our chance." I tell him with my words before I return to my bulb. Glancing over at the pedestal, I frown knowing it is going to be occupied once again. But, another thing eats away at my mind. If the seed survived by the grace of the gods and goddesses...

Then the thief is alive too and we know where to look for her.