The World a Garden Bursting Into Life

[Sivan]

1st of Frost, Year 124 of Steel
Sunrunner Tower, Kalzasi

forget what we're told.
before we get too old,
show me a garden
that's bursting into life.

The day had finally arrived and Hilana had appeared at the forge as promised. Torin wasn't on site that day, and she knew Timon already; in any case, he let her watch him about his alchemical work. He didn't share any great secrets of the art, but he did answer questions. Even though his own alchemical apprenticeship with Jacun was complete, the makers of Tavárinoikos wanted to ensure he didn't tarnish their reputation even beyond the bounds of the remains of the Boundless Empire. He was used to answering questions while he worked.

Timon fed them after the shop was closed and as Torin hadn't returned yet, Sivan told him to be good before helping Hilana carry her things. Timon, of course, rolled his eyes behind Sivan's back. He would have done it within Sivan's view, but the elf had turned around too quickly.

The walk from the forge to his tower wasn't so very long, and Khalcifer danced all along the route they took. "I can't be responsible for all the streets of Kalzasi, but I make sure the routes I take are clear of ice and snow."

Sivan pointed out his tower over the other buildings once it was in sight, and it took them a while to arrive there. When they finally did, he looked up and to the left, smiled and waved at Laurevere, who was peering through one of his many windows. His friend was very protective, but it felt good to have someone looking out for him, especially a Val'Hytori when he was going to have to spend more time in his fatherland. The door opened for him. He had dispensed with actual locks, at least while he was in Kalzasi. The magic recognized him and allowed him in.

"Please come in. Enough of the spirits know you now that you ought to be able to open the door on your own without any trouble. I'll save the grand tour for tomorrow, I suppose. It has been a long day. But..." He pointed out the most important features of the ground floor, which was now mostly a modest foyer, a restroom with all the amenities that anyone from the Luxium or the Callo, and a serviceable kitchen for a man who lived alone most of the time and worked so much that he rarely used what cooking skills he had, usually eating whatever Timon had made or picking something up en route home from the forge.

That restroom was mostly used for elimination, but there was a shower. He told her if she wanted a more luxurious bath, she would see the upstairs on the morrow. He bade her make the kitchen her own while she was there, and promised to show her the larder on the morrow as well; it was below ground where there was plenty of space and even more ability to control the climate. If she looked closely or, after she had spent more time in his home, she might notice that some of the wood working through the stone was still alive. Sivan was no woodsinger, but he knew plenty of woodland spirits. Those that had made more permanent residence in his garden had woven tree roots into the foundations of his tower and much of the stone had been cannibalized from the hill behind his tower. The wild had claimed his home and grown it like a living thing.

Once out in the garden, he pulled off his boots. A part of him was unchangeable Dratori and he preferred to be barefoot on the grass and the earth, even when it was cold. It wasn't cold, though. It was slightly warmer than the Solunarium she had left behind, even, and likely wouldn't get colder ever. The lush foliage was somewhat tamed by the reduced temperature, but his garden was magical. It followed the rhythm of the seasons, but only annual plants truly died there. The rest went into a light sort of rest rather than a full hibernation in the winter.

It was larger than it had been when he moved in. The cottage had abutted a hill that was not fit for building upon, but that cottage had become a modest tower, and his garden had reclaimed space as the substance of the hill was claimed by Geb and the lesser earth elementals who had flocked to him to learn what Sivan had taught him. He pointed out the moon gate that led into Laurevere's yard, admonished her to wait for the noble elf's invitation and noting that Laurevere would ask for hers before crossing it himself as he did when only Sivan was in residence. The younger elf hoped that Hilana's presence would not rub Laurevere the wrong way and vice versa; despite differences in doctrine, at least Laurevere was of Siltori descent as well as Hytori, which ought to sit better with a Vastian woman than Sivan's own lineage.

He pointed out the Living Grave, which was the largest tree and not far from the back door of his tower. He explained that it was born of an enchantment to save a fae'ethalan he had found on the road to Kalzasi when he first came to find Master Jacun. Flower still hibernated within, their curse kept at bay by the living enchantment. He pointed out the hive of bees in the lower branches, their drone low and sleepy since the flowers bearing food for them were few and far between already. A little squealmouse leapt from a branch to his shoulder and began to groom his golden hair. He introduced her to the first animal resident of the garden, though not the last. Farther in, he pointed out the seedling that had grown from the seed Destyn had planted, brought from the Ecithian jungles and fertilized with green dragon dung. Thankfully, Nut kept the air sweet throughout the garden.

Just to the side of that was the crystal altar with its dawnfire-infused gem.

"It was helpful during the eclipse, to be sure. I'm still not sure why a demigod chose to place it in my garden without even saying hello to me, but if you meet my friend Destynræl, well, perhaps you will see how strange things just sort of... happen... I've managed to coax it into a sort of diurnal cycle. It will be dimmer at night, but it never goes out completely. If light will make sleep difficult, I suggest setting up your tent farther away from it but..." He spread his hands. "...now that I don't have to raise crops to feed the starving, there should be plenty of room for you to set up. The spirits who live here will likely tell you if they don't like where or how you set up, but they are excited to have a new, hm, gardenmate? While you are here, at any rate. But unless you have burning questions, I will leave you to set up while I put out a blanket and bring out supper. I can help you with tents and such, probably, too..."

As he had told her earlier that day, he planned to ask her a few questions and let her ask him however many questions she had, get a good night's sleep, and initiate her on the morrow when all questions were answered as best they could be. She had, presumably, read up on contract law so she knew how mortal bindings worked. It was a good foundation for magical bindings between sentient creatures.

When she was ready for a moment alone, he walked back into the tower, back out, in and out again, and over again, until a blanket was laid out over the roots of the Living Grave, clinging such that it was quite clear where roots were and where mossy ground or gentle grass underneath. He didn't want her twisting an ankle her first evening in her Kalzasern residency. By the time she came to investigate, he had laid out bottles of water and wine, his own mead, which she had taken home with her before, as well as a steaming pot of tea. He wasn't the sort to push alcohol upon anyone, but only wanted to be a good host.

There was a bounty of autumnal fruits and vegetables, cheeses, cured meats, as well as bowls of various Kalzasern dishes, as well as bowls and plates and such so she could sample a plethora of what the city had to offer. Some few things he had prepared himself, but mostly it was bought to give her a good impression of the city as curated by him. He knew she spent some time at with the Kozoku house of Maze, but his own blood, common as it was, was yet ancient and the laws of hospitality were writ deep in its hidden code.

As she approached, he held out a crystal goblet of water pure as the snow of the Astralar Mountains in one hand, balanced on the other, a plate with fresh bread and a small dish of salt from "Lake" Udori.

"Be you welcome at Sunrunner Tower," he said, trying to be all right with how clunky the traditional words sounded in Common. "I offer you gifts of pure water, bread from the land, and salt from the sea."

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana had packed up quite well in preparation for two weeks in Kalzasi. She made arrangements for a friend to feed her snakes, apologized to her pythons that they could not come - Tiaz and Fiya would have to stay in their terrariums while she was gone - the temperature was just going to be too cool for them. While Tiaz had spent plenty of time out in the desert in winters with her, this was a big ask for them, and the Vastiana preferred that they would be comfortable and able to relax at home. Another friend would look after Hayima'el for her, because while he could definitely manage up here, she did not trust him to just enjoy Sivan's garden and not eat his way right through it.

Her rucksack, featherlight satchel, and the large duffle bag that contained her tent were all tucked away so that they wouldn't be in anyone's path and she could watch Sivan. It was fascinating to observe, her fingers itching to write down notes on what he was doing, but every alchemist had their secrets. She couldn't just pry and pry at his; but she did ask questions here and there about some of it. All of it was a new chance to learn - she knew she couldn't share all of Domina Clelia's work with someone else, either, so she did understand the importance of secrecy to the Craft. Every practitioner, every Artifex, had their own techniques and mystique, and far be it for her to try to take all of Sivan's.

She appreciated his help in hauling things - she let him take the duffle, elementally Enmeshed as it was with Air to reduce its actual substantive weight, while she carried her thoroughly-stuffed rucksack and the satchel that had been a gift from Talon. She was perfectly happy to walk with him and see where they would be staying - she had gotten some familiarity with the place from her trips to and from Maze Manor, but this was a new trip and she was pleased to investigate it. Hilana's curiosity had become extended to learning these streets too, and she kept pace with him easily. Khalcifer's excitement as he danced along made her smile - he was able to be him and let his warmth stretch and spread, and that was incredibly valuable here when the ice and snows came in.

The admiration for his tower was plain on her face as she observed with wide, bright eyes, making mental notes of things here, there, and everywhere. The kitchen was plenty promising, and she had brought things from home to cook for her elvish host. She could also grab more at the market - she would see what all he liked and how he liked it, and then that way she could at least help repay his kindness. She understood full well that he wouldn't take extra coin; but she would help in other ways. Bartering and trading went a long way; they understood each other in that regard. The shower was plenty - Lia may have preferred soaking in the bath, but Hilana was perfectly good with showers.

As he showed her the outside, she took off her boots like he did, exploring the place with her eyes and taking note of what he said. Avoid the moon gate unless otherwise invited, duly noted. There was the Living Grave, and had it been anything but what it was, Hilana might well have wanted to climb it, but she had a feeling it would be disrespectful. The odd altar was curious, and she half-wondered if that was Talon's work. Dawnfire - his or one of his Dawnmartyrs, surely? She did, as it happened, know Destynrael - she had met him one day in the woods a few seasons back, and she was happy to tell him so and about that encounter if he wanted to hear about it.

She was perfectly happy with his plan of action, and while he was in and out, she set to work putting up her tent. Twice she moved the base of it at the spirits' behest, and when they seemed happy with where she was situated, she put together the framework for the two-person tent with its poles that had served her so well many years in the desert. Lia had insisted she get it out the week before in order to lay some wards upon it to keep out the cold and keep the warmth in - she had found the old ones that Vorenus had put on it many years ago, and she had simply refreshed them, reworking them and ensuring that they were up to the task once again. Her bedroll and everything else was brought in and tucked away, knowing the spirits would curiously look around it and investigate.

She was delighted to see the setup he had prepared for her, and carried with her a glass jar that she had brought. She didn't want to bring a ton of her own food, understanding what he was doing, but she wanted a gift for him, too - olives from home, packed in brine. Her own traditions, including the rite of hospitality and fire rite, meant that all were welcome at the fire (excepting, of course, Orks), and the polite thing to do was to share something if you could. And olives would do the job. She offered a little curtsy to him as she approached the picnic blanket before sitting down neatly and easily, her brightly-coloured skirts resembling a roaring fire - shades of red, orange, and yellow whirled and swirled within the cotton, a tribute to Khalcifer and Kalor, who was keeping Athalia company at home quite happily.

"I thank you for your gifts and your hospitality," Hilana smiled at him, setting the jar down between them to accept the crystalline goblet and plate. She took a sip of the water, and laid the plate in her lap, picking up the jar to offer it to him. "I offer you olives from my homeland, grown by my people."

[Sivan]

Sivan's answering smile was a bit bashful, but it banished the formality. At least, they could meet the exigencies of their diverse cultures, and then set them aside. Such would be necessary. His fatherland was ever at odds with her Re'hyæan overlords. He had Orkhan friends she would likely garotte if she could get away with it. Cultural bridges were delicate things. Sivan was no diplomat; he wasn't even terribly good with people. They had the foundation of shared interests, though, and were kindred spirits in some ways, especially the care of life—there was just that hatred of Orkhan and diametrically opposed Hytori-Re'hyæan ideology. But he was half-Dratori, and she was Vastian, a second-class citizen in her own country.

For now, the world was the enchanted garden he had built with the help of spirits, flora, and fauna. They were breaking bread and sharing company.

It was simple and, for the moment, it was enough.

He served a few basic things, made a point of trying her olives before anything else and proclaiming them delicious. Conversation was light until they had both stopped reaching for more food. A benefit of this sort of finger-food smorgasbord was that it slowed consumption down such that the belly had enough time to tell the brain it was getting full. They hadn't decimated the foods and drinks, and they could devour morsels at will. The rest would be put up for the morrow. Eventually, he would show her how he had scrivened his larder into quite the efficient preserving situation. No doubt she would obliquely mention a cold room in Solunarium's Red Citadel, redacting any information a foreigner ought not to have.

The drone of the bees was sleepier now. The squealmouse, full from tidbits shared, had passed out on his shoulder, its face tucked into his neck. Sivan didn't have a kingly bearing, but this did feel like his place and perhaps he seemed more himself here than anywhere else.

"So... if you haven't had too much wine, I could initiate you tonight. The sooner done, the longer you will be here for me to help with any threshold sickness. I don't anticipate any, though. I had none. Mostly, 'tis a matter of leading your spirit to a space where it can commune with spirits."

He had already told her that there would be four, one from each of the spheres, and that she would have to form a concord with one of them to safely return to herself. He had already warned her of infernal tricks, demanding celestials, wild spirits who would call her to go deep into the desert and never return, and even the eldritch creatures it was impossible to truly know. That part was up to her, and the reason he had asked her to read as much about contract law as possible.

We will form the bridge for you to reach out to them, Exael said. He manifested then, cross-legged on a root of the Living Grave. He was clearly neither human nor elf, but a Spirit of Wisdom given shape. There was something of the uncanny valley about him, though this was not her first time meeting him. Sivan had explained how an apprentice could spherebind to join with an aidolon early, though it would curtail their ability to form contracts with any other sphere, and how he had waited quite a long time until he could manage the sacrament that would bind him forever to his celestial counterpart.

We will be present with your body and with your soul.

Their vigil would safeguard her in many ways, but they could not save her from herself if she hadn't the ability to make a compact without giving herself away. They could attempt to save her soul if such did occur, but that was a battle Sivan had never fought. He hoped it would not come to that, of course. He had done his due diligence, as well.

[Hilana Chenzira]

She absolutely was not going to tell Sivan her belief in the fact that the only good Ork was a dead Ork. The beasts were widely respected in Kalzasi, and while she had been visiting Karnor for nearly a year, she still did not like them. She wouldn't necessarily cross the street to avoid them, but she certainly drew up on herself and if she could avoid interacting with them, she would. Even if Karnorian Orks were different from the Ecithian brutes... they were still Orks, and Hilana did not like them.

But those monsters were not in this beautiful garden. Hilana and Sivan were not considering Hytori-Dratori-Re'hyaean problems, and since Hilana didn't Semble Sivan to see what on the Prime Material Plane he actually was, she maintained plausible deniability in that he looked like a Sunborn, and therefore, it was fine. He likely was Hytori, and that was problematic, but there was value in seeking out others to learn from, because it might be new knowledge that she could in turn bring back and help her people with. Outside experience was important - sometimes one had to know when to shun the conventional wisdom in order to move past it.

Her intake was measured - she enjoyed alcohol plenty, but she didn't particularly care for getting drunk. It felt sloppy to her, and even in the sands growing up, while they'd made their own homebrewed swill that was truthfully terrible and would knock anyone on their ass with the most brutal headaches she had ever experienced, even beyond Overstepping when Hilana had pushed those limits, she had learned tolerance. But there was something to be said for the flavour of these drinks that Sivan had either made himself from his own hives - which she could, and did, thank the bees near them for - or collected from others. She had brought plenty of Vasilei's up here, and from time to time, gifted from wines from Solunarium - the whites from the Luxium, and the deep, rich reds of the Umbrium.

When he offered to start her initiation then, Hilana nodded, steeling herself. "I am ready." Her crystalline goblet was set down, and so was her plate. This wasn't pure hubris or bravado; she had been reading books about summoning for the better part of a year, watching and talking to Summoners, trying to learn as much as she could before taking the plunge and risking it. Summoning was one of those Runes where there were no second chances. You either succeeded, or you were Craft-fallen in the worst possible way. There would be no return, no way back. And yet... Venture belonged to the adventurous. If you travelled far enough, you would find yourself. As wild as she was, she would surely meet her match here... and she needed to be able to come back. Athalia had quizzed her on her knowledge for the last few weeks, dropping questions at random in order to see how much her younger sister had learned and prepared herself for this, but even she knew there was no talking her out of it once Sivan had agreed to teach her.

"Gratias," she offered Sivan and Exael a little bow of her shoulders, taking a deep breath. She would do her best - and with luck, she would be able to accomplish what her present paedagogus had. She would find the way or make one. "Let's do this."

[Sivan]

Sivan nodded. Without any visual cue, spirits and various automata appeared to do some of the menial work of cleaning up after their long repast. Water remained, as well as tea, but wine and mead went away; there were finger foods that would not suffer for sitting out a while longer. He knew she would want to see how his helpful spirits had helped him create a larder that kept everything—not in stasis, but—in an environment best suited to keep it fresher longer.

He was barefoot now; it was cool, but even so, he was wearing more than he normally did in the privacy of his garden. Exael dropped gracefully to something akin to a human—or elven—sprawl, though his joints and limbs didn't all move quite as one might expect. There was something alien about him, though the longer he spent bound to Sivan, the more he could blend in—as much as a celestial spirit given form in the material plane could.

They had come to the point where there was nothing left to say. Her questions had been answered to the best of his—and Exael's—abilities, and she had prepared by studying contract law and already knew a great deal about the planes where wild spirits, at least, lived apart from them.

He wove an image of what the Rune would look like in light, allowed her to suggest some alterations. It then became a matter of wrapping his own awareness around the new shape; it had to mean Summoning to him in order for it to channel aether correctly, but she was the one who would have to wear it on her skin and on her soul.

Summoning had only become a more complex concept to him as he "mastered" it. While Sivan and Exael hadn't yet performed what some scholars called a 'Revelation,' he did open a channel between them and much of what was Exael flowed into what was Sivan and the boundaries became indistinct. His blue eyes, pretty by some standards, glowed with the cold wisdom of the spirit realm. Exael himself seemed more vague, a mere shadow of himself, as the elf seemed to grow, to shine with a halo akin to a God's.

At Their request, she offered Them the relevant skin and They carefully applied a spellwright's ink with a calligraphy brush. When it was complete, They caught her as she slumped, laid her out as if in calm repose so that she would not wake to physical discomfort.

Hilana's body remained, but she was gone—gone to a place outside their material plane where she would treat with spirits, where she would make choices, and where she would have to make a compact and build a bridge back to her own body.

Holding vigil, They sang, a lighthouse to lead her safely back to shore.

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana was largely content to let Sivan figure out what made the design a Summoning Rune, and as long as it wasn't something that would get her executed at home for some link to Sol'Valen, she was by and large quite happy with it. They had a shared love of botany, and both of her other Runes had floral artistry - the radiant sun of molten gold on her right hand looked quite like a sunflower in its design, and while it look some looking with Semblance, one would be able to find the begonia of that same Rune written on her scalp: with all of her hair, it was nigh impossible to see with the naked eye, especially when it was piled up as it usually was, gathered in a wild, messy bun. Her only request had involved some lily shaping - a flower that signified friendship, devotion, and support. Some florists that spoke of such symbolism from flowers said that each petal had its own meaning: empathy, understanding, humour, commitment, patience, and respect... all aspects to a successful friendship, and all aspects were needed when it came to Summoning.

As she bore Elementalism on the palm of her right hand, she had elected to place Summoning on the left. The two went hand in hand, especially considering her love of the elements, and being able to form a deeper relationship with them was possible through this Rune. She enjoyed being around Kalor, and she had seen no end of impressive spirits of all kinds in Solunarium. There were wild ones that she had seen through her forays around the world of Ransera, and even those of other Planes that she had visited during her Attunement. She half-wondered if she might find that Shadow spirit that she had encountered there again, but who knew what the future held?

She was getting ahead of herself.

Hilana had watched while the ink was painted with the brush, enjoying the faintly warm temperature of it. And all of a sudden, it was like she was no longer in her body, no longer in Sivan's garden. She blinked, finding herself flat out on the ground, and rose to her feet. Bare, like they had been back in Ransera. The ground beneath her feet was like any sand she had felt in the twilight of the frost - warm, but cool and dry. She was still by a tree, but this one, from its bark to its leaves, was all kinds of shades of white. It reminded her of an Atraxian heartwood in shape and size. The sky was one of twilight over the desert sands, but it wasn't steady or stable, it was constantly moving towards the west. It was an endless horizon, and in the four points of the compass around her were four spirits.

To the north preened a massive bird - it wasn't quite a peacock, nor was it an eagle. Hilana thought it most closely resembled one of the frost phoenixes of the north that Talon and Aoren had told her about. Its brilliant plumage was predominantly white, but also held shimmering shades of pastel blue and gold mixed in with the white, and crystalline blue eyes looked at her, all but inviting her to approach. It seemed to be resting on a perch of pure starlight, fashioned out of the sky around them itself. She could only wonder what sphere this was - she had to guess between Celestial and Wild.

To the south was another bird of inky blackness and fire. It was the same size as the frost phoenix seeming spirit that was at its opposite compass point. This one more closely resembled the harpy eagle with a crest, but with a much longer tail, full and splayed without being as full and dramatic as a peacock might be. But this spirit was indeed dramatic; all around it burned fire, fire that was hot enough to turn the sand beneath it into pools of molten glass. If the one at the north represented the Celestial sphere, then perhaps this one, an opposite, represented the Infernal sphere. It was watching her every move, even as its flames waxed and waned around it.

To the east stood a figure that was neither masculine nor feminine. They were taller than she was, certainly one of the taller beings that she had ever seen. The spirit was faceless, and they almost seemed to blend in with the sky above them, their form dark, almost navy, with gold tracing throughout over the body. It wasn't quite jewellery, it wasn't a network of veins... it was a pathway, perhaps, but it was impossible to know without approaching and taking another look. At the center of their chest was a white circle, a glowing light that should have brightened up the rest of them... but did not. She couldn't tell if they had hair or horns with the way they were swept up, and a small moon, reminiscent of the one on their chest, seemed to shine between them. That could only be the Eldritch representative, Hilana was certain of it.

And to the west waited a great serpent. It wasn't a true serpent, Hilana didn't think, as some of its scales seemed to be feathered, though its snout was fully reptilian. Blood-red eyes watched her every move, hunter and prey, spirit and potential summoner all at once. It was much larger than her current pythons, reminding her more of the banana behemoth that she had seen at the Port Vasta district and had lost her shot at purchasing. It was an interesting blend - it wasn't a true python from the pupils in its eyes, though the snout suggested it was. The snake, she felt, was most likely to be the representative of the Wild sphere.

When she had first started reading up about Summoning and its initiation, she had always figured on selecting the Wild sphere. She knew she almost certainly would later, but now that she was standing in the middle of four spirits, all of them intriguing and enticing, the Vastiana paused, considering. "Salve," she greeted the spirits with a curtsy of her vivid skirts - the most colourful thing here in these twilight sands was her. Perhaps that was deliberate, but Hilana couldn't begin to know. Maybe she would ask Sivan when she returned to her body. She had a feeling that the elf might not know either. If that was the case, she'd have to ask his opinion on it when she returned home.

She surveyed the spirits once more, before turning to her left and heading towards the serpent. It had been made very clear to her in her research that she could only approach one, and Hilana made her choice. "Salve," she addressed the coiled reptile when she got closer. "My name is Hilana."

"Wildling, snake-soother, child of the sands," the spirit answered her. It drew itself up so that it was eye level with her. Its forked tongue flickered as its mouth moved, and the soft, surreal voice murmured all around her, like scales on skin. "Hilana is what the people call you. But what of your true name, child? Do you not hear the way the wind calls to you, the way the sands sing when you walk among them? The shadows that follow you, wherever you go, cloaking and concealing... We see you. We spirits know you, Calalith, nature-bound-in-flesh. We know who you are. Who you truly are. You were never meant to be amongst the buildings, amongst the people with their unnatural ways and manners. You had to cage yourself, still yourself, just to be accepted by them... you can never truly be you, can you?"

"I am too much for many people," Hilana agreed, her head tilting. The light of the shifting twilight continued to move overhead. Calalith? "But for some people... I am just right." Raithen, Finn, and Sivan liked her, just the way she was. "They are kindred spirits." Kala, Aoren, and Talon liked her. Arvaelyn used to. Maybe he still did, in some ways. There was Rickter and his family. Many clients and people she had come to meet over the years. Teachers, lovers, friends.

"How many of them know you, Calalith? They see what you show them. Do they see what makes your heart race? Do they feel your joy as you are one with the wind and sky? Or do you worry them?" The spirit asked her. "Do they not say 'What did Hilana do now?' and sigh? Why lie to yourself and deny the truth? You have lightning in your veins, and you are a storm waiting to explode. All of that energy that knows where it needs to be. You were made for more than their rules. You were meant for the sands, wildling. Our laws are your own laws, aren't they? They are what feels right to you. Not their twisted vision."

There was no denying much of what the snake was saying, and Hilana knew it. Her soul felt peace in the sands, in the wilds, riding on Hayima'el or on the back of a wyvern. Most people who got to knew her knew that her first love was the Expanse. She could disappear into it, and she would thrive. She knew how to get around, how to navigate, how to live on its bounty, such as it was. Even more so now with Elementalism. These nature spirits understood her, perhaps more than most people. Her animals did - her camels, snakes, and cats. She couldn't just up and leave them, not with the collection she had amassed. But she had friends, too, friends that cared for her and loved her. "Some of them know. All of me? No. But some of them know me well enough to know what makes my soul sing. The strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack. My pack knows me. They need me, just as I need them. And they are no longer in the deep reaches of the Expanse."

The snake regarded her, its snout moving closer, lessening the distance between them. "Your pack for now. And they will abandon you, because they crave those rules and structures that you buck against, that chafe and pull at you. They are not wild like you are, Calalith." The spirit's words made Hilana realize one undeniable truth - she would have failed this initiation if she had taken it years ago as her first Rune. Her friends and her pets were her anchors in this world. The draw of her maternal family when she was a teenager would not have been enough.

"No. They're not. But despite that... they are my pack. They respect me for who I am, and I respect them. The differences that we have make us who we are. We are not all the same, true, and there are parts of me that they will never understand, and parts of them that I will never understand. But that's part of what makes life worth while. Nothing in nature is always the same, and nothing can survive if it is. A thriving ecosystem requires variety." Hilana squared herself as she met the serpent's gaze. "You know that as well as I do. Let us come to terms. You would come beyond here, and I need to go home. Come with me. Not as me, but with me. A companion for a period of 30 days as the sun rises and as the sun sets. I ask that you do as I bid, within reason. I will not ask you to harm or damage yourself, or share your secrets. And if we get along, then we can renegotiate." Hilana offered. "But I need your name to make that a binding agreement."

The serpent was silent. The Vastiana's Wildness was strong, true, but so was her commitment and love of the people that kept her from disappearing into it. And just as strong was her tenacious streak that would not back down now that she had dug her heels in. So close, and yet, so far. These were not bad terms. They could work with that. "Very well, Calalith, child of the sands. Thirty sunrises, thirty sunsets." Hilana raised her left hand, that had the freshly-drawn Rune on it, and held her palm forward. "I am Sviras," the snake pressed their snout into her palm, and through it. Raw energy pushed through her, as wild as she had ever felt, and more. In that moment, she heard a voice - it was not Sivan's, nor Exael's... but two as one, as they had been. Her Rune shimmered, and Hilana and Sviras found themselves at the opalescent white tree. She touched both hands to it, as the song reverberated through her being...

She blinked, jolting awake. It had only been a few hours, but as she sat up... there was a snake with her, white with black-edged, feathery scales and blood red eyes, resting moving from her side to her lap. Sviras didn't seem to be as big here as it had been before... but they could work with that. She pushed herself into a seated position, her brown eyes bigger than they ever were, and practically crackling with energy to burn despite the initiation. And in that moment, she desperately wanted to give Sivan a hug. "Thank you," she told them. Both of them.

[Sivan]

Still Unified with Exael, Sivan—or, more properly, Sivan-and-Exael—must have looked like an elven archmage of old, brimming with powers not of this world. Still, their shoulders relaxed when she returned to herself and the serpentine form manifested beside her.

They did not know if their song had been any sort of tether or trail of breadcrumbs for her to follow; the serpent spirit was likely canny enough to help her retrace her spirit's path. It was something to do while holding vigil, though, and much of his upbringing had been Hytori; they did love their rituals.

"You are welcome and welcome back," they said. They turned eyes, pale and trailing energy that glowed like mist, upon the serpent. "Welcome to Acillon, Wise One. Please refresh yourself if you wish."

What remained laid out from their meal hours previous were only things that wouldn't suffer for it, and the spirits knew how to keep things fresh and flavorful. The squealmouse scampered up their arm and perched on their shoulder, apparently unbothered by the glowing Sivan-and-Exael. It was bothered by the sudden appearance of the serpent. For all that any animals in the garden felt bound not to enact violence upon each other, it still had its instincts.

The spirits that had been drifting idly or busying themselves with whatever tasks they had or idylls the enjoyed began to gather closer, curious about the wildling brought back from another plane. They recognized Sviras, if not for himself, then for what he was.

The perilous moment past, the faint nimbus about them brightened, separated, and then Sivan wasn't glowing and the uncanny humanoid figure of Exael manifested once more beside him, kneeling, weary. Sivan's shoulders slumped a bit but his tired smile was still a smile. Nothing was wrong; they had merely been ready to triage the situation should something go wrong. The conventional wisdom was that if a nascent summoner couldn't secure a proper deal, they would be lost, either in the Aetherium or their body enslaved by a spirit.

Exael had taught him many things beyond the conventional wisdom, however, and he had been considering options for various adverse events. Thankfully, none of them had been necessary.

"How do you feel?"

[Hilana Chenzira]

"Not on the squealmouse, please," Hilana smiled down at Sviras when Sivan-and-Exael told the spirit to refresh himself if needed. The serpent moved from the Vastiana's lap. His tongue flickered, tasting the air of the realm for the first time in a while. That would be a conversation for later - that he could not hunt in these gardens. But she would take him where they could hunt, if he desired to do so. The spirits in this garden were off-limits, and so were the creatures. But Hilana had been around Kalzasi enough to know where to go, and if she had to, she could find a mouse or rodent at the market for him. If he got bigger, maybe he would prefer a rabbit. But chances were... he would be perfectly fine with aether.

"Well met, and well found, friend," Sviras answered Them, watching with interest from the grassy spot that he was sitting in while They separated. He drew himself up somewhat, like a cobra posturing to threaten, but he only inclined his head to them before relaxing and returning to the earth. Exael was far stronger than he, and Sivan, more experienced. But he had heard of the Dratori amongst the golden elves, and he was intrigued to see him here. Interesting indeed, that these two had found one another. She sorted through a pocket on her skirts, and found the little aetherite that she had been storing there in the event that this was successful, and activated it with her own aether for Exael and Sviras. He seemed like he needed it the most at the moment, from how they had separated from the Revelation.

"I feel good, actually," Hilana admitted at Sivan's question. "Like I could go run across the length of Kalzasi and back and maybe do it again. It was kind of like you said it would be, and like the books said... but where we were was very different. Do you want one of my star thistle drinks? How are you?" her experienced eyes searched her friend's. No longer just a friend, but a paedagogus. She could get up and get one of the vials from the tent. "We heard your song...and it was beautiful. We could follow it, though he knew where we were going... but the song definitely helped."

[Sivan]

Neither Sivan nor Exael knew the serpent's Name, the former could semble and the latter was knowledgeable when it came to denizens of the different courts and spheres. They didn't need to know his Name to see that the contract between him and Hilana was sound. If it was his desire to crush the will out of her and take over, well, she would have to prove too canny and too powerful to let him. Some relationships between summoner and summoned were like that. Whether he would one day become her aidolon or not was unknown as well.

Sivan and Exael had found each other long before that, and had fostered a working relationship for years before formalizing it. They had both thought it the wiser course.

"Thank you," Sivan said, taking the aetherite and handing it to Exael, whose hands had more articulating joints than did Sivan's. Spirit made flesh was strange like that. But Sivan could rest and recuperate more easily than a celestial being out of its home plane. Hilana would figure that out as well in time.

Her newly summoned companion would not starve in the garden. The ebb and flow of aether there would feed it to fullness and then some, probably a part of how Sivan's companions tended to grow in power and complexity in his care. If the serpent wanted to taste flesh and blood, however, he would have to quit the sanctuary for wilder places.

"I will try one if you are willing to share," he said with a smile. He was curious whether her version of star thistle was the same or different from the star thistle he had discovered in Torin's alpine valley during the long winter. Some plants were adaptable enough to various climes; others changed to adapt. "And I am glad. I do try to teach the magic as I was taught, but some things we learn by rote are... probabilistic more than certain. If you had been lost, I would have gone searching rather than throwing up my hands."

Her elven educator was content to sit up a while, but however energetic she felt, she would need to sleep and to dream to process everything. Fortunately, whenever she put her head down, sleep ought not to be far behind. The bees were already sleeping, as was the squealmouse, tucked against him where the serpent would have to get past Sivan to get to it. The garden had a cycle of its own and if one relaxed into it, it would take one with it.

"I won't expect you anywhere in particular tomorrow. I expect you two will want to get acquainted, the better to work together."

[Hilana Chenzira]

She was happy to help in some way, and if she could share what she had, especially after they had gone to so much effort to see her initiated in a new Craft, and had been prepared to go after her if something had gone wrong - which Hilana was deeply grateful for, considering Craftfallen was very much a fact of life in Solunarium. While each and every citizen was assessed for arcane potential, when it came to a tug of war over your soul, some fell, even if they were believed to have something of an aptitude for the Rune. Some did not prepare as much as others. Had Hilana taken it as a teenager, she might well have been lost in the other plane, never to return. The growth and maturity she had gained in the eight years since it had been offered and she had refused until taking it now were light and day. Back then... she would have quite happily gone off into the Wilds.

Sviras moved to investigate Sivan, slithering up along his arm to his chest and regarding him while Hilana retrieved a pale violet bottle from the tent and brought it to her teacher to try. There was a murmur for him of the name that he had given Hilana, a name that he could be called and summoned by, at least. Hilana hadn't been sure if it had been appropriate to share that name, but since Sviras chose to do so, clearly, it was acceptable to him. "I'm always happy to share. It's the least I can do," she smiled at him, sitting back down. There was a blend of many herbs and plants in it, but the pale colour came from the mountain star thistle that grew in her homeland. The solution was not so viscous that it was difficult to swallow, and it had a mild sweetness at the back of the tongue, like whispers of honey. That edge of exhaustion would at least vanish to relief as it helped restore the lost aether that he had expended tonight during his vigil and Revelation with Exael.

When he told her that he would have gone after her if something had gone wrong, the young woman leaned across where they had been sitting and hugged him tightly at that. She probably should have asked, but he didn't seem as unsettled by touch as Talon was, and they had gotten to know each other enough by now that he hopefully wouldn't dislike it. She could be a very touchy-feely person, and she appreciated what he had done for her and the sentiment there that he wouldn't have given up on her. "I am grateful, truly. I hope to do you proud as your discipula." She sat back rather than keep squashing him. Sviras gradually returned to her, enjoying the aether-rich environment that this garden had, and vaguely hoping that Hilana would have something similar, if they were not staying here for the 30 days. He wrapped around her forearm, making his way up to her shoulders.

"I understand," she nodded, smiling at that. She would likely be up before he was, and if that was the case, she might well investigate his kitchen and make breakfast for him before he went in. But hanging around here tomorrow would likely be good - just to settle and get acquainted, as Sivan had suggested, and she could likely talk and chat with the spirits that made this garden their home, too. Considering how many there were here, that was going to be a day spent talking, and talking, and talking. But the first priority was Sviras, and learning more about him, too. She was deeply curious about the serpent, and some of what he had said there and was lingering in the back of her mind, and she was wondering how much he would share with her. Maybe it meant something, maybe it meant nothing.. but she would find out. "Are you tired? Do you want to head to bed?" She didn't want to keep him up longer than he needed, especially if he would go into the shop tomorrow. He would need his sleep.