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[Serensskyra]

Time Stamp: 26th of Fall, 512 A.V

Kyra was silent as she slowly walked into the maze like garden. She was entering from a different entrance than the one she had used last time, not from choice of course. The city seemed to want to put her at a different entrance every time she came here looking for herbs for her potions, poultices, essences, teas, and whatever else it was she deemed to use the plants for. Her philterers robe was tied around her tightly, and over it was her cloak, cuddled tightly against herself. She was coldblooded and today the city had decided to have a random cold burst running through some of it's streets. Dhani never reacted well to the cold, and the only reason she was out here was that she was running out of some rather important herbs.

Rubbing her hands over her arms under her cloak she began to walk, looking at the plants as she walked. Coriander, foxglove, it was a shame she didn't have any gloves. The plant made a good poison, but it was very irritating to ones skin. There was cornflower, pokeweed. She paused and bent down, pulling at the plant gently with nimble fingers. Technically these plants shouldn't be alive right now, they liked heat. But the garden didn't follow normal world logic, nor did it's plants. She began to pull up the root, digging in the ground. She snipped off several long roots before replacing it in the ground. She placed to root in a pocket, away from other plants she might pick. They were good, when dried, for reliving pain. She stood up and continued to walk, searching for plants, either helpful or harmful. A bright pink blossom hung behind layers of greenery, deep in a hedge and Kyra could not resist it's allure. A peony flower was very poisonous, fatal if made into a tea. Perfect. Kyra gingerly made her way through the other plants, taking stock in case she needed one of them as well. Finally she was at the hedge wall. Here she began to lean her hand and arm carefully into it, slithering her hand around prickly bit until she reached the flower. She used her nail to saw through the stem and enclosed her hand around her prize, carefully extracting hand and flower form the hedge she smiled happily before she placed the plant in one of her many pockets.

Today seemed to be a good gathering day, it was even heating up in the garden. She looked around at the plants she had danced through to get to her poisonous prize. Not too many things of interest were here, feverfew, goldthread, and h there was something she could use. Everlasting, great for bruises. She plucked some of the flowers and plant stalk, placing it in another pocket of hers. She glanced around and her eyes alighted on her favorite plant for pranks, Virgin Snakeroot. She chuckled at the name and bent to pick some of it. It could kill someone if used incorrectly, but if used right it could make them nauseous, dizzy, and give them diarrhea. It was also a good cure for snakebites. The irony didn't escape her, a dhani making a cure for snakebites.

She left the small patch of herbs to wander now, still keeping an eye out for other plants, the most helpful were the ones to be applied to wounds, pain relievers, bruise healers, fever breakers, sleep inducers, and cough remedies. While walking she picked several more things to help her, pansy for wounds, Valerian for sleep, chamomile for tea and wound washing, Bistort to stop bleeding, Ladys Mantle to stop internal bleeding. Over time she was amassing quite a store of herbs, she would probably either hang them up when she got home or immediately use the plants to make stow away, ready to use, poultices and potions. She picked up Shepherds Purse, Witch Hazel, and St. Johns Wort for external bleeding as well, she had already had someone nearly bleed out in her arms and she didn't have enough herbs to stop all the bleeding, he healed of course, but still. She refused to be caught with that low of a stock of blood clotters again. She was scrubbing her floor for a week to get the stains out!

She stopped under a willow tree surrounded by lavender and white sage plants. Lavender was useful in several ways, it could be used for migraines,fainting, dizziness, nausea, and vomitting. It was also a pain reliever. White sage could take pain away in a better way though and so she picked more of them, they were good for stopping infection and taking down inflammation. She sat down under the willow to rest her feet and smell the lavender. She also tore some of the outer and inner bark from the tree, a good amount actually that took up half her rucksack. It was a great pain and fever reliever, if very bitter.

She sat down and looked up into a clear blue sky, she hoped she'd find some Yarrow. A very common wound plant and a very good one she loved to have an abundance of it. And some belladonna, such a wonderful poison. Comfrey too would be ideal. It was great for swollen broken bones, sprains, strained muscles. She was surprised she hadn't seen any Goldenrod yet, and she needed the plant. It was great on sore, strained, or harmed muscles and as such was quite useful to herself and about a third of the people she dealt with usually had some strained muscle or another. It also was usually mistaken as a weed it grew so abundantly, so why she hadn't seen any yet was a marvel. But that was Alvadas.

Kyra felt her eyes grow sleepy, the sun was high and it was so warm here. She felt her eyes closing, maybe just a nap. It would be so much nicer in her snake form but her clothes would need to be hidden and someone might try to attack her and that would just be annoying. So she closed her eyes as a human and stayed that way.

[Andraste]

That night Andraste had flown though the streets with no direction, without purpose. Seems like in her astral form concentrating of a specific location was so much more difficult. But she did not want to return home. That lonely, empty and soulless place which she came to detest.

The city had finally led her to the garden of no return toward the end of the night. There were only few more hours during which she would stay in this form. The glowing skin, the horns and everything else which made her physically etherfal. What better place was there to spend those precious remaining hours?

The garden was a strange place. A maze which was created to entrap and enchant those who were not so careful. Of course Andraste came here frequently, though most of the time during the day. At night the trees had skeletal limbs which towered over her ominously, ready to pounce on her; and the hedges bore evil spirits within their dark bellies. Yes, at night the Garden had it's ways of playing upon the visitor's imagination.

There was a place in the garden where lavender was in abundance. Andraste always loved lavender, it's enchanting colours and memorising smell. She settled down somewhere where her position was not apparent, like a child playing hide and seek with her self. Only an hour till sunrise.

There was a small metal object in her hand, which is had longed to play the entire night and the moment it touched her lips, a great weight had been lifted from her heart. And a softness and serenity came over her as the quiet notes came from the flute and filled the air around her. The night became saturated with a mellow melody. Very quiet and very delicate as if it was lavender it self. And as she played her body swayed gently like a leaf in the breeze. Slender fingers pressing the holes, long breaths which were the medium for the flute's soul and sound. A split second in between each phrase for Andraste to catch her breath. The piece seemed to take a question and answer form. After each melody an echo fallowed where only the last few notes where rearranged so that it would not be left incomplete.

Visions haunted her. Past lives and people she once was. Who were now replaced by Andraste. With each vision the melody changed. It waxed and wained between slow and fast. The parts where her fingers moved so fast on the little instrument and created the most elaborate and complicated of arrangements; and those where she held firm onto one note, allowing it to vibrate the dew droplets in the air. She played until the sun was high up in the sky, having little effect on the cold. Until the vanilla coloured horns had disappeared and her skin retained only a fraction of it's original glow. She was blissfully unaware of the few brave souls who ventured into the garden for she had become one with the music. Time passed as if it was a rabbit being chased by a fox.