After allowing a few minutes to process what they had just seen, Kin-Galud indicated that they had work to do. Those who spend too long learning from history are doomed never to make any, as they say. 

Their goal was still to arrange things so that Sionann could ‘prove her purity’ by bearing Tuccia’s Sieve successfully. As they had discovered, the Divine Grove, unlike the elemental shrines, was very capable of repelling eldritch influences. But there were ways around that. Hence the need for souls- Kin-Galud needed at least one to prepare a means of bypassing the defences, though the extras wouldn’t go to waste.

Unfortunately, the next steps would require both gardening and excavation. Neither Sionann nor Fírinne had an Earth affinity, and while Kin-Galud could’ve created a facsimile of one in either of them, that would not go unnoticed by the Vestal order, leading to some very awkward questions. 

Thus, their next task was to find another Vestal to corrupt, one who already had an Earth affinity. There were several initiates who had one, and of course plenty of more experienced Vestals, but there was really only one obvious choice. 

 

“Hello, Dellia”, Sionann said, as she sat beside her on the bench. 

“Oh, um, hello, Sionann”, Dellia mumbled, looking up from the scroll she was reading. “Can I, uh, help you?”

“I was going to ask you the same question, actually. You always spend your evenings here”- Sionann gestured around the empty study hall, illuminated by two measly candles- “and I was wondering if you were feeling lonely.”

“Oh, um, well, uh, sort of, maybe. I- I’m used to it, though.”

“I thought so. You should join Fírinne and I for drinks in my room. I’d love to learn more about you.”

“Uh, I don’t know if I-”

“Excellent, come on then”, Sionann said, dragging Dellia up off the bench and physically carrying her out of the room. 

 

“n dey called me surculusa! i h8 it! dey said its cus i like growin plants, but its cus of my hight, innit?”

Dellia… was a few cups deep. Which was unearthing some, mm, dissatisfactions she had with her life. And a provincial accent. 

“u dunt fink im short, do u?”

Sionann, who was 5'8"¹173cm (in my experience non-colonials understand colonial height measurements, but not vice-versa). Well above the average height for a roman woman (~5'2")., shared a glance with Fírinne, who was two inches shorter, then looked down at Dellia, who was well under five feet.

“Of course not. Besides, elves don’t care about height.”

“rlly? elfs r so cool.”

“They really are! They’re so pretty and elegant and their ears are so sensitive that if you rub them they mmf mmmfs-”

Sionann pushed Fírinne away whilst covering her mouth. “Haha, anyway, your name is-”

“can i touch ur ears?”, Dellia asked, looking up at her with sparkling blue eyes. “plz?”

Godsdamnit Fírinne. She couldn’t outright refuse, or she’d lose too much progress. “Well, a little bit, but be careful, they really are ver-eeeeeee”

How could somebody so drunk have such a delicate touch? Fuck, she was giving Fírinne a run for her money! Speaking of which, the latter was getting dangerously handsy… at least Dellia was too engrossed in rubbing her ears to notice. Or she was too drunk to care. But she had to disengage from both of them, or she was going to lose control. 

…which had definitely not already happened. She was definitely not already flushed and moaning. 

“wao. ur so pretty”

“Tha-mnnn-nk you, Dellia. You’re- ahh- very pretty too.”

Oh dear. Now Dellia was blushing and averting her gaze. Which made her even more adorable. And Fírinne was licking the back of her neck. Time to bail out.

Fírinne jerked away as a small sphere of water materialised and splashed against her head. Dellia was too out of it to complain when Sionann picked her up and slid her away, forcing her to let go of her ears. 

“This was fun, but I think we should get some rest, okay?”

“hmm, im kinda tyred”, Dellia said with a yawn. 

“Fiiine”, Fírinne whined, wiping the water off of her face. 

 

“Um, I didn’t… say anything weird last night, right?”

“Don’t worry. Friends don’t share those kinds of things with strangers.”

“Oh. Are we friends?”

“I hope so, Dellia. I like you, and I’d feel bad if you didn’t feel the same.”

“Um, um, right. We’re friends.”

 

Sionann and Fírinne continued to, shall we say, encourage Dellia into becoming their ‘friend’. They learned a lot about her in the process. 

Her looks were fairly unremarkable- brown hair, tied back in a single braid, tan skin suggesting a lot of time spent out in the sun, bright blue eyes, and of course the height of a girl in her early teens (even if her body was maturely filled out in other areas).

She was, indeed, not from the city, but had been born in a hilly town to the south, where her father oversaw a large estate on behalf of a powerful Remen family. She was the fourth of seven siblings, and would’ve had an unremarkable life were it not for the affinity with nature and awareness of spirits she displayed from a young age. She received an education from a tutor, separately from her siblings, as she was considered destined for greater things.

Unfortunately, this set her apart from those around her. Combined with her always diminutive frame, this resulted in getting bullied a lot. Subsequently, she took solace in plants, who couldn't bully her. She had a special fondness for daisies, which were the first plants she’d grown by herself.

She’d come to Reme a year ago, staying with relatives as she prepared for the Vestal trial. She was the first to form a Spirit Pact, being contacted by a nature spirit within half an hour of entering the Fey Wood. Although the connection was effortless, she didn’t have as much magical energy as, eg, Fírinne or Sionann, nor was she naturally talented at magic that didn't involve plants.

 

By the end of the week, she was opening up to them without getting drunk, which was good since the wine had run out. As a result, when they suggested sticking together in the Fey Wood, Dellia had no complaints. For a while, at least.

“Uh, we’re pretty deep by now. Shouldn’t we call our spirits?”

“Just a bit further, almost there.”

“But, um, the barrier is just past those trees. We shouldn’t get too close to it, I think.”

Sionann and Fírinne shared a look. Maybe it was too much to hope for that the girl with a nature spirit could be led astray in the forest. 

“You trust me, don’t you, Dellia?” Sionann said. “Friends trust each other, after all.”

“I, um, I guess so?”

“Good. So just trust me, this is going to be good for you”, she said, reasonably confident that Dellia’s desire for friendship would be enough to keep her from fighting back. 

With that, Sionann lifted Dellia into her arms, augmenting her strength with eldritch energy to make it effortless, surrounded the three of them with a sound-blocking air bubble, and started jogging forwards. 

“Um, um, um, are you sure this-”

“Shhh. It’ll be okay”, Sionann reassured her. Though this had been a lot easier with Vestia. 

Once they passed through the barrier, Dellia really started to panic- which soon resulted in her accent slipping. “I really don’t- hey, let me down. Sionann! i dunt wanna do dis!”

Sionann rolled her eyes, tightening her grip on the struggling shorty. She’d come around, she thought, as she deftly weaved through the trees. Until, that is, a root that wasn’t there before grabbed her ankle, sending her sprawling. She didn’t let go of her passenger, but twisted to avoid landing on her. 

“That wasn’t very friendly, Dellia!”

“ur not very frendly! let me go!”

“This is good for you! It’s what friends do, they help each other!”

“ur a bully!”

Fírinne helped Sionann get up again, and- being more careful now- they continued to carry the increasingly hysterical Dellia deeper. Even if things weren’t going according to plan, they couldn’t turn back now. 

“meanie meanie meanie mean- wait, wats happenin? were did the plants go?”

Not a very elegant recruitment method.

“aaa! i herd a rlly scary voice!”

“I got impatient. I didn’t think she’d be so sceptical.”

Well, bring her down. We’ll make it work.

“You hear that, Dellia? It’s all going to work out in the end.”

“y r u so mean? i h8 u!”

 

She never should have trusted them. Tall people couldn’t be trusted, she knew this. Although, to be fair, this went beyond the sort of bullying she was used to. The haunting, twisting, whispering masonry around her was… evil, undeniably evil. And it was trying to get inside her head. 

She was keeping it out, though. She’d gotten used to shutting off the outside world. She even had a garden in her mind she could retreat to. She would just hide out there until the bullies gave up, like usual.

Over the years, her imaginary garden had grown from a small plot of daisies to a sprawling field, with rows and rows containing hundreds of plants. Her eyes were firmly shut, but she could easily see the plants she had cultivated. Everything in its place. Nobody to hurt her. 

She floated through her orchard, where the trees were always blossoming, and yet baskets of fresh fruit were strewn about. It was her imagination, trees could blossom and give fruit at the same time if she wanted. 

She trimmed dead roses from the rose bushes. She found trimming dead flowers relaxing, so there were always some to be found. She pondered over the empty plot next to the roses- she’d been meaning to think of something to plant there, but hadn’t had much opportunity to come here since becoming a Vestal. Hmm. Maybe grapes? She’d really enjoyed the wine that… Sionann… gave… her. 

Nope nope nope, no grapes. Forget about grapes. Something else, anything else, not- too late. There were already vines starting to sprout. She ran away. Guess she couldn’t visit that part of her garden anymore. 

She needed to calm down. The sky above her garden was pulsing, which it shouldn’t be doing, those grapes shouldn’t’ve sprouted without her permission, and the faint outline of a stone staircase appeared wherever she looked. She needed strength. She needed to go to the one place in her garden that was inviolable. 

…

The daisies… were wilting. 

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

She tried to will the daisies back to health, but to no avail. The more she panicked, the weaker her mental walls got- the harder the darkness pounded on the sky, and the clearer the phantom staircase became. Although now it had become a phantom door; circular, mysteriously engraved, and incredibly foreboding. 

She mentally fell onto her knees, staring up at the darkness that threatened to destroy the entire garden. But what did it matter? What was the point? If she couldn’t even protect her daisies, why bother fighting at all?

…maybe Sionann was right. Maybe this was for the best. Or maybe she was just doomed to a life of suffering. Either way, might as well get on with it.

She resigned herself to her fate, and opened her eyes. 

 

They had, per Kin-Galud’s instructions, arranged Dellia in front of the seal, sitting on her knees. She was… unconscious, but still able to sit upright. Tears had begun to flow from her, although she wasn't making any sounds, resulting in the surreal scene of a completely stoic figure with tears streaming down their cheeks.

Kin-Galud conveyed that it was having to brute-force its way into her mind, since they hadn’t properly prepared her. It was slightly annoyed by that, but what’s done is done. 

After a few minutes, Dellia’s eyes opened- although they lacked the usual sparkle, instead holding only depressed resignation. She sobbed softly, and held her finger up to the seal. 

The usual spark, the usual drop of blood. However, this time, while the chain it landed on dimmed, it didn’t break. Which is why Kin-Galud preferred a more willing connection. 

Dellia barely reacted to the tendrils that wrapped around her, and Kin-Galud didn’t bother trying to make things more exciting. That was another reason- things were much less entertaining this way. 

Sionann and Fírinne felt sort of guilty, witnessing Dellia’s state. Kin-Galud was right, this wasn’t very entertaining. 

It could have been worse, Kin-Galud conveyed. If she’d had no trust towards them whatsoever, it would’ve had to replace her personality entirely- essentially, it’d have to kill her, and replace her with a copy. 

Sionann shivered a little, thinking about how she had almost sort-of-killed Dellia. Strange, she’d gotten over literally killing seventeen people and then feeding their souls to a demon. She probably shouldn’t be feeling worse about this than she did about that. 

But apparently there was a difference between killing strangers whilst in a trance, and accidentally erasing someone who was almost your friend. Huh.