The overgrowth here liked holding secrets. 

Everything west of here was mapped, populated, controlled or at least tamed. But drop someone anywhere in its clutches and have them wander, and they would see some incredible sight that only the beasts got to enjoy. Beautiful, or terrifying, or somber- all hidden away.

Beneath a dense canopy of trees, it was easy to forget that it was the middle of the day, cold gloom spreading and choking out the warmth. Heavy underbrush twisted brambles into every other step, choking out what new bits of life tried to make a home alongside the sickly green fauna. The only survivors were the shrubs that formed in hesitant patches, and the lofty trees that predated everything they gave shade to. Everything felt larger than it should have, massive thorns and imposing trunks compared to what could be found in Rostrum. Even the roaming animals that called it home looked like timid pests, despite rising up as high as a person’s shoulders.

The hidden sun did one unique thing here. What came through was filtered through leaves, giving the dim light a swampy tinge, mossy haze choking out any vibrance.

And yet- that emerald sameness felt almost spiritual. Haunted. Whispering out to be explored, even as the geography growled and beckoned back. Some imperceptible thing buried below, feeding the towering growth while it slept comfortable beneath.

Thrawl. The barrier into Syrinx, the departure from everything known and nurtured.

This small patch was the exception, nested in a clearing the perfect size to fit what was beneath. A small farmhouse, unwilling to take up more space than needed. Just a quick glance through any of the windows that framed it, past the slats of wood that acted as bars and barriers from the outside air, and the entirety of the inside was visible, no walls or divisions, as many rooms as occupants. It was simple for someone that lived where nobody should have, tools stored against the wall but no signs of weapons, no marks of a hardened survivalist that spilled the blood of any Beast that wanted to take their home.

The rest of the area was a winding network of trails, circling around the trunks of flourishing trees. Compared to their massive brethren that surrounded on all sides, they looked like saplings, children protected by their parents. On the branches, the oblong fruit caught the tones of a distant, glowing sunrise, draining the color from the world around them merely by contrast.

It was one of the only places in Thrawl that held an interplay between sun and shade, instead of the latter dominating the former. It was innocent and blossoming, a terrarium settled at the bottom of a cold ocean, a thin boundary between it and the rest of the gloom.

The boundary, in this case, was far more grand.

A massive creature formed a lunate around the farm, rising higher than the farmhouse and rivaling the trees. It served dutifully as a wall, only the gap near its mouth allowing travel in and out. Scaled, covered in spines dipped in noxious greens, its tail was coiled and protected with coarse plates that felt like volcanic rock. Even standing close to it was enough to feel the billowing heat, the threat that flames or acid might be a stranger’s reward for daring to come near.

It was a relic of Those Coldest Times, titans that had seemingly died in the bloody conflict.

But here it was. Dormant. Guarding. Patient.

It was their own little kingdom, not one that needed battles and ruined cobblestone spires and blood, but one that had been kept while the others fought.

And their garden grew. Blossoming above the ground and within its caretakers.

Her eyes fluttered open, the orange and yellow slits struggling to show themselves. Not a Beast’s eyes, but those of a lanky woman, almost human from a distance.

But the features were warped, extending too sharp or too long in places, smudged by some invisible paint brush. Her fingers stretched out, blackened and formed into needle-tipped points. Everything was colored with some bold resolve- her skin was pale, flat and unrelenting. Her hair was a singed brown, strands wiry and coarse, bleeding into black horns where the start of one and the end of the other was fuzzy and uncertain. A tail stayed tucked away beneath her, scorched and scaled. On the surface of their skin, pressed against their chest, the thumping beat of some glowing core could be seen through the translucent layer, exposed and vulnerable.

With some effort, she shambled up, rising up by digging her feet into the ground rather than pushing off with her hands. A shuddering motion, like something dead waking up from a grave.

The tired eyes searched, scanning across the grove, a panic overtaking until she spotted the only other living creature here. As usual, she was staring intently at one of the trees, fussing over it and its drooping branch. She was speaking, muffled sounds that barely registered as words while she was still waking up.

Trill wasn’t the gardener’s birthname, in the same way that Qer wasn’t the first name she remembered for herself. It was something the two had agreed on, early into their time here- abandoning the world and what ties they had to it. To her credit, Trill had tried bravely to make the awkward sound form at her lips, but Qer had quickly been shortened to a brisk Qi.

Peace overtook panic, sleepwalking deeper into the grove until she could make sense of what was being said.

“-and I know I keep saying it, but you have’t’know, you’re worrying your sisters being all glum. How about I get you trimmed up and rid of some’of this excess so you can feel better?”

She paused, fingers pressing against the bark, listening back. On the back of her hand, veins pushed against the wrinkled surface, not the soft texture of her face or legs.

In that time, only a few strides had taken Qer from one side of the farm to the other, making the journey with effortless, prowling steps. Her pace slowed as she got close, dragging her feet and running a hand against a patch of leaves, the noises enough to get Trill’s attention without scaring her.

At her usual, resting position, Trill always had a lingering grin on her lips. Qer had never seen it bloom so beautifully as when she first caught sight of her companion, nearly vibrating with excitement. Today was thankfully no different.

“My dear, dear Qi, you’re finally awake!” Despite their difference in heights and the various sharp limbs in the way, Trill was happy to embrace Qer tightly, nudging her head against the other woman’s collarbone, glassy eyes disappearing and leaving her only with the messy strands of hair in her face. The blonde had white roots, ones that Qer couldn’t remember seeing before.

Her mind was already obsessing over one of the words Trill had said, pulling back enough to look down at her properly.

Finally?

The word formed at her lips, though it exited both as a sound and as an idea in the mind of Trill, fractured parts fit together to communicate to her.

“Yeah! You were asleep for some time.”

A frown, loosening herself from the hug.

Longer than last time?

Catching Qer’s gaze, Trill thought for a paltry moment before shrugging. The lack of enthusiasm told her what she needed to know.

For a moment, she wanted to press her for it, to know more and fixate, but the distant sadness in Trill’s eyes stopped her short. Eventually she had to let it free.

Lifting her sight up, her claw stretched upwards, gingerly plucking one of the fruits and inspecting it. Whatever blessed the soil here, it would be only a short wait before more would replace it.

The harvest is promising. You’ve done well to take care of them.

It was enough to retrieve the brightness in the gardener, only intensifying when a thought came into her mind. Without as much as a warning, Qer’s wrist was clutched by both of Trill’s hands, dragging her off into the as-of-yet unused patch of land that she’d yet to decide what to do with. The two weaved between her flourishing pride-and-joys, a spring in her step.

When the two arrived, the ground had been disturbed, the tentative sprouts of a few saplings peeking out. The leaves held a different color than the fruit trees, an autumn red that promised something new when it grew. Trill kneeled down to look over them and inspect for any signs of distress, giving Qer some time to bite into the sweet fruit and savor the increasingly-familiar taste.

“One of those kind flocks’a’magpies you made friends with brought some strange seeds, all orange and with these beautiful red streaks. I thought they’d be perfect here and that the two of us could see what they are together?” Trill dragged her attention away from the plants, staring at the tall woman casting a shadow over the plot of land. Half the fruit had already disappeared in the short time, juice spilling onto her chin and adding some color to her bleak appearance.

Her focus flitted along, first to the hopeful future crops, then to Trill and her worn hands and fading hair, then to the world outside of here and its scowling presence.

The sun was working past its apex, only making the leaves burn more.

Qer joined Trill, knee settling into the dirt. She offered the other half of her food, watching her pull it off of her jagged fingers. In return, her other hand warded away Trill’s hair, nudging it behind her ear with a mixture of dexterity and trust.

It was Qer’s turn to guide the pair back to the center of the grove, palm leading her up and back into the very center of the trees. At the core of it all was the first one, when she had first carved out this place and made her home. Trill relaxed when she realized their destination, resting against her hand.

“I know I’ve said ‘no playing favorites’ with our kids but-” Trill leaned in closer, facing Qer and dropping to a whisper.

“This one does get some special attention. I want her to be perfect for you.”

A tiny, happy noise drifted from Qer’s lips, whimpered out without restraint.

Thoughts did not fully bleed over to Trill, just emotions, overflowing gratitude and adoration. The guiding pressure now pooled at her hip, laying down first against the shade of the tree, then helping the blonde-haired human down.

Trill’s back nestled against Qer’s front, cushioned by her body as both of her long legs bent and guarded her. The rough bark felt raw and grounding to her, something solid to tie her to this place even as she drifted in and out of sleep. Her eyes stayed open now, watchful ahead towards the only way uninvited guests could come.

“Qi?” Timid, hushed words greeted her, feeling Trill turn as she faced her keeper.

“Do you need’ta lay down again? You’ve just woken up from a rest.”

She kept her eyes forward anyways, but let the smile return.

I am fine. But you deserve some. You work too hard.

The faintest glint of sweat made her neck shimmer in the sun, catching every little sign of the manual labor that had worn down on her during Qer’s absence.

She seemed poised to argue, but with her head turned as it was, the thumping rhythm of Qer’s heart filled her head. That alone drew her eyelids down, heavier by the moment.

Trill murmured some excuse, trapping Qer with her arms around her sides, but it fell on deaf, overprotective ears, feeling her sink into her own stupor with the safety that the heartbeat represented.

I’ll take my turn to watch over. The trees, and you Trill. For as long as my crest allows me.