Chapter Eight - Poor Saps
Crossover: Azarinth Healer by Rheagar

***

“This is a fascinating world,” Meadow said.

Dreamer nodded.

They had exchanged names already. Not just ‘Meadow’ and ‘Dreamer’ but their actual names.

Meadow’s name was almost a song. It sang of growth and expansion, of becoming one with the nature around itself so as to nurture it, to make it greater than the sum of its parts and to see it becoming powerful in its own rights. It was a gentle, but firm song, a lullaby sung to a precious child by the coarse voice of a labourer father.

Dreamer’s name was more like incoherent, terrified screeching.

It was the sound gods made when they woke up from a nightmare, then realized that it was made real. Dreams, the very concept of a reality that only existed in the fleeting moments when the minds of greater beings were unfocused belonged to her. The nightmares born of these were her playthings. And her name continued, because she was a selfish person, always grasping, always taking and eating and holding close to her the things she loved.

“So anyway,” Dreamer said. “Flowers and stuff.”

The Meadow made a sound that Dreamer thought sounded like laughter, leaves rustling above. “Yes. Flowers and such. I’m sorry, my newness here has encouraged me to snoop around. There are so many people here doing so many things. And what fascinating magics they use.”

“Yeah,” Dreamer agreeds. “It’s a nice place. Abigail lives here, and so do I.”

“Did you know that the people in that large building in the shadows of that hill are plotting to murder you?” Meadow asked.

Dreamer rolled her eyes. The Inquisition again. “Yeah. They do that. It’s annoying and stupid because they can’t kill me: I don’t feel like dying.”

“Indeed,” the Meadow said. “You summoned me to help with flowers, is that right?”

Dreamer nodded. “Yeah. There’s a box thing out front, with space for flowers in it, but I can’t make those well so I summoned someone that could, and now you’re here.” She was quite proud of herself and her concise and accurate explanation.

“That seems like a simple enough issue to remedy. I imagine you don’t wish for flowers that are... too complex?”

Dreamer shrugged. “Can you make some that are pretty?”

Another laugh, or maybe it was just the wind again. “Yes, I think I can manage pretty well enough.”

Dreamer had some eyetacles here and there around the cafe, so she got to see some flowers poke out of the ground and grow big and tall. There were all sorts, with blue, and yellow, and orange and red flowers. Some with many petals, others with just a few. “Those are very nice looking,” Dreamer judged.

“Thank you,” the Meadow said. “I’ve seen my share of flowers, so I tried to encourage the growth of some of the more interesting sorts.”

Dreamer turned towards the backyard door a moment before it opened and Abigail stuck her head out. “Dreamer?” she asked, then she blinked up at the tree. “Is that a tree?”

“Yes, it’s a tree,” Dreamer said.

“Hello,” the Meadow said.

Abigail stared. “Did the tree just talk?”

“I did,” The Meadow replied with another branch-shivering laugh. “My name is the Meadow.”

“Uh, hi,” Abigail said. “I wanted to ask Dreamer... you know what, nevermind, it’s not important. How are you doing? And, ah, why are you here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Dreamer was looking for gardening advice,” Meadow said. “She rooted around and found me, I suppose.”

Abigail chuckled. “Well, that doesn’t sound too bad, as long as she brings you back home. But, ah, I guess it’s not often that talking trees get to branch out.”

The Meadow shivered and shook. “Indeed. I’m quite happy that Dreamer called for me. I assure you, she wasn’t barking up the wrong tree when looking for advice.”

“Yeah,” Dreamer said. “We have nice flowers now.”

Abigail nodded, still smiling and looking quite happy. “That’s wonderful, thank you Meadow. I’m sorry that Dreamer couldn’t leaf you alone, but I’ll try to make sure she makes it up to you.”

“I appreciate it. I don’t intend to set down roots here. Nonetheless, it’s nice to make new... buddies.”

Abigail laughed and clapped her hands together. “Oh, that was awful,” she said.

“What was awful?” Dreamer asked.

Abigail shook her head, still laughing. “It went over your head, it’s okay sweetie.”

Dreamer deployed more tentacles, she’d catch the next thing that went over her head.

“Your laughter has a very pleasant timber to it,” Meadow said.

Abigail snorted. “Stop, please, They’re just getting worse.”

“I would go against the grain to continue, so I will refrain for now.”

“Urgh,” Abigail said, but she was smiling even if it sounded bad, so Dreamer didn’t know what to do. “Stop pollen my leg.”

The tree shook. “And you claimed that I was terrible? That was practically tree-sonous.”

Abigail moved over to stand behind Dreamer. She carefully pushed Dreamer’s tentacles aside and hugged her from behind, arms around Dreamer’s neck so that her head was pressed up against her still-shaking tummy. “Thanks, that was a lot of fun. Dreamer’s been good about summoning interesting people lately... in-tree-resting? No, that’s just too awful.”

“You’re very welcome,” the Meadow said. “But, seeing as my work here is quite done, I wood like to return to my home. I have companions that may be missing me.”

“Missing the tree in the forest?” Abigail asked.

The Meadow shook with laughter again. “Indeed. Well done. If you ever need more assistance with gardening, then do call me over. Though, perhaps asking first wouldn’t be harmful.”

“I’ll try to teach Dreamer to knock,” Abigail said. She squeezed Dreamer a bit tighter, then brought a hand up and started to play with her hair. Dreamer’s eyes drooped as Abigail’s fingers dug into her scalp and scritch-scratched her.

Abigail and Meadow said their goodbyes, and then Dreamer blinked awake some more and undid her summoning, which sent Meadow back.

A few birds that had perched on the tree were confused when it suddenly disappeared, and there was a bit of a hole in their lawn.

“Well, that was nice,” Abigail said. “So, Dreamer, before all of that... I was looking at your bedroom and wondering what colour to paint it.

“Oh!” Dreamer said. “I want it in nice looking colours!”

And so Dreamer chased after Abigail, her flower-seeking mission a success.

***