She looked into the bag and spotted the faintly glowing herb. Her eyes shifted back and forth between the building smoke of the torch and the obviously magical plant. She could burn it for warmth. After a moment’s consideration she shook her head, “Yeah, nah.”
The fire burst to life on the head of the torch. Breathing a sigh of relief she snatched up her hammer off her discarded belt and started to bash the shield into kindling. Minutes later she was still naked and freezing but she was sure that she had started to dispel her growing hypothermia. A few more regrettable shakes had removed a great deal of water from her fur and her shaggy covering was doing wonders in turn to provide warmth. She took occasional trips to the nearby wall to use her hunting knife to scrape off dry mushrooms. She hoped burning the luminescent fungi wasn’t going to have an adverse effect, and so far it hadn’t.
Her rapid healing was doing wonders for her arm but it still ached. With her clothes laid out nearby she was hoping they would get at least semi dry in the next few hours. She drained her waterskin and one of the packets of hard tack she had packed and stayed as close to the fire as she could.
Several hours later after accepting that her fire wasn’t going to hold out long enough for her clothes to get much drier she begrudgingly put her damp clothes and armor back on. The fire had dwindled to remnants but she used water from the river to fully douse it, the words of her father ringing in her mind, “We came here to enjoy the wilderness, not destroy it.”
Sniffing she started down the side of the river scanning the area for dangers and holding her bow at the ready.
Perhaps an hour later she slowed when she caught sight of something strange. There appeared to be drawings of some kind on the cave wall. They were surrounded by a scatter of large boulders that might provide a semi concealed place to camp or hide. Approaching as silent as possible she edged around the boulders to a macabre sight.
A single skeleton sat against the wall beneath the drawings. Any clothing it might have worn had long decayed. She could tell at the individual's height that they were another of the Vyre. The skeleton was mostly intact although at some point something had dislocated and made off with their left arm and most of their fingers and toe bones. There also appeared to be a large blackened hole in the top of their skull.
She gave the remains a respectful nod and turned her attention to the drawings. Most were faded but some were still visible. The bulk of what remained appeared to be similar writing to what she had seen back at the temple. Not for the first time she cursed herself for not picking up the small book that was amidst the starting items. There were items there to write with but they were separate and she just couldn’t have made the sacrifice.
As she moved closer to get a better look in the faint glow of the mushrooms she heard something move in the darkness. She turned and pulled an arrow aiming it toward the spaces between the boulders.
Her voice trembled, “This doesn’t have to get messy. Don’t make me put a hole in ya. Step out here and we can talk.”
There was another slither and she shifted her aim toward the sound. There was nothing. Whatever it was might not even understand language. Probably some kind of fucking cave lizard. She had seen, and been scared shitless by, her fair share over the years.
She shuffled two more steps toward the stones with her bow at the ready and paused when she heard a creaking sound from behind her. Turning she cursed, “Oh, fuck me!”
A familiar oily black substance had slithered into the bones of the Vyre behind her. It had partially reformed its lower legs with its substance and was threading up its body to wrap around its limbs like muscles. It was still missing most of its left arm but its reconstituted Noctis built muscles seemed to be working just fine.
Before she could run it used its weight and height to stumble toward her with its outstretched skeletal hand. She was born to the ground and her bow tumbled out of her grasp. Its claw like skeletal fingers dug into her shoulder as it gripped her, the bones weight enough to keep her on the ground.
The Noctis flowed up into the skeleton’s head and leveraged it’s jaws open in preparation to bite.
She screamed, “Oh fuck you!”
Snatching the hammer off her belt she swung it upward, pick side first. The strike was useless flailing. She screamed as the bones driving into her shoulder slid deeper and the mangled black teeth neared her face.
Panting through the pain and panicking she swung again in a blind arc. The pick missed and her swing went around the skeletal monster’s neck. Her eyes went wide when she felt it hook on something. With every ounce of strength she yanked the hammer back toward her. The pick had gotten lodged into its ribs against the spine and the entire skeleton rocked and rolled left. She rolled with it and found herself on top of the grasping and silent creature’s ribs.
She couldn’t get free but with some room between her and the skeleton she hefted the hammer and started to bash its skull. Teeth and yellow bone flew in every direction but it did not impede the arm digging into her shoulder trying to yank her closer. Within the bashed skull she saw several eyes open in the Noctis regarding her with wild terror.
“What the actual fuck?!”
She swung for the creature’s neck and hit the stone floor. She could see blood coating the arm of the skeleton from her wound and the pain was becoming too much to bear. It yanked its claw like hand free by cutting furrows through her armor and across her chest.
She screamed and blood sprayed the bones beneath her. A mouth opened in the hole that had been the mouth of the skeleton and it spoke, “What… fuck?,” which faded into a high pitched echoing giggle or scream.
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Trying to ignore her injury she brought the hammer down on the skeleton’s shoulder splintering the ancient bones and breaking the arm free. The Noctis fluid snapped back from it and into the ribcage. Without arms it bucked and continued to scream random words while swirling eyes of various colors and varieties snapped open in its mass.
Blinking away the pain she pulled off her pack and thrust her hand inside. Closing it over the small kit she needed she yanked it free and let the flint and stone drop to the stone with a clatter. She snapped them up and brandished them at the struggling skeletal monster. It didn’t seem to register what was happening until she snapped the two together and sparks fell all over it. Only a few errant sparks fell into the ribcage but that was enough.
The Noctis went up with a whoosh and the flame burst up into the air around her legs. She screamed and tumbled away. Her leg armor and pants were on fire. Rolling across the floor and tearing off her cloak she threw it over her legs and patted at them. She slumped back against the stones and pulled the cloak to her chest trying to stymie her bleeding. Her vision started to fade and she fell onto her side. The scream of the dying Noctis seemed to dull and fade. She gasped with every breath.
Her eye caught on something and brought the world back into focus. The herb. It had fallen from her pack in the rush to grab the flint. It was radiating its steady green glow over her and the immolated skeleton.
She reached out a hand toward the glow and closed her fingers around it. Warmth shot up her arm and she gasped as the verdant light washed over and enveloped her.
“Mademoiselle Rossi? Would you like your cup refreshed?”
Maria blinked from staring into the middle distance and looked up at the figure addressing her. They had a feminine form but their body was made up of plants and flowers. The curves of their lips were made up of striated red leaves and her body was full and made up of stalks, twisted branches, and flowers.
Feeling far away she muttered in a dull tone, “Refresh what? I’m sorry?”
The strange plant creature’s voice showed no frustration as they gestured to a cup made of a trio of leaves and bound together with vines before her, “Your tea?”
Maria shook her head and looked into the strange cup. The liquid was honey colored and mostly clear. She offered a weak smile to the arboreal creature, “I… yes, please.”
The servant poured fluid from a large bulb teapot and bowed before moving on.
Taking stock of her surroundings she seemed to be at a table crafted out of a stump. There were other plant figures around the table with various degrees of floral adornment. Some had feminine forms, others male and still some with indeterminate forms. They were chatting in hushed voices and seemed amiable to each other. One of them laughed and it sounded like bells chiming.
They were seated in a massive forest of greenery and gigantic trees. It was as if they were ants in a forest of redwoods. The treetops were so high that she struggled to see the lowest branch much less the mist shrouded tops. They were not in a building but in the open. There appeared to be no sign of infrastructure at all.
She did not remember how she had gotten here.
Beside her a slender female figure with an elaborate goldenrod head piece and eyes that looked like large acorns turned and said, “Tell me Mademoiselle Rossi, how did you first come to know her ladyship?”
Maria blinked at the strange plant woman and opened her mouth to speak. Searching for the answer in her addled mind, she found she could not recall. Finally she said, “Through a friend.”
The answer seemed to please the strange woman and she said, “It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Protemps of Vice Valeria.”
Her head still swimming, Maria carefully raised her shaking teacup and took a drink, “Maria Rossi, Archaeologist and… Dimensional traveler, I suppose.”
Alora’s flowery eyebrows rose with interest and she said, “Fascinating titles. You will have to regale me with tales of your dimension sometime.”
Maria shrugged and slurred, “Sure, why not?”
A thought intruded. A dark thought and she blinked in response. She had been in danger only moments ago. Had she not? How did she get here? Where was here?
Her thoughts were disrupted by high pitched and synchronized birdsong. A swarm of tiny birds flew over with strings of yellow flowers clutched in their beaks singing in unison. The figures around the table stood and looked toward the head of the table opposite her.
Maria struggled to her feet. She glanced at her hand and realized for the first time, she was human again. That implied that she at one point had not been human? Rather than join the table in watching the other end of the table she stared with concern at the back of her hand. Why had she expected to see hair there… more hair than usual?
She was started out of her thoughts by a meek and unsure voice, “Good evening everyone.”
Looking up she saw the new arrival. The reason the table had stood and were now offering bows of their heads. This person, likely the lady that Valeria had mentioned, was shorter than the others. Her body was made up more of blue and purple stalks and dark green leaves. Her shoulders were wreathed with blue flowers, as were her wrists. A skirt of dark fronds hung from her waist. Her face was all sharp vines and soft leaves and she had wide and concerned golden eyes. A series of dark and long leaves hung around her head like hair down to her shoulders. If Maria were to gauge her age based on human standards she might be in her early twenties.
For a plant woman, she was really quite beautiful. A strange thought, to be sure, but it was the first her addled mind had. Their eyes met for several long moments and she felt her cheeks heat with a blush. The woman averted her eyes downward. Catching herself she dipped her head into a bow as well.
With that the rest of the table was sitting along with the woman. Maria joined half a beat after and was once again struck by a feeling of concern about how she had arrived at the table for tea. She took a drink and tried to shrug off her agitation but found it was only growing.
She was distracted when the woman spoke up from the other end of the table, her voice unsure and filled with emotion, “I must say, I am most appreciative of our visitor. It is rare we receive visitors from outside the Bough.”
A male figure next to the woman raised a glass to Maria and his lips made of purple berries quirked into a smile as they spoke in a deep basso, “Indeed, Mademoiselle Rossi is most welcome. It seems that the gossip has quite stagnated at our little get togethers.”
There was a titter of laughter from amongst the attendees. It was broken moments later when another of the guests spoke up with a wet sounding voice dripping with sarcasm, “If we were discussing matters of actual import perhaps you would not suffer such ennui Vess?”
The speaker was made up of pumpkin like gourds for its head and body and long yellowed squash for its legs and arms, all bound with thick green vines so dark they might be black. Vines twisted into the shape of lips beneath its ponderous orange head formed its lips.

