[open] golden days; Leliana and any

[leliana]

I've never loved a darker blue than the darkness I have known in you

It is comforting to be with Isilya and to feel so completely herself.

She doesn’t need to pretend. She doesn’t need to fight against her nature. There are no politics bubbling beneath the surface—no ulterior motives or tension. She can relax with the mare and feel something like kinship in the gentle beat of her heart; she can feel the sweet melody of the earth within her.

It is different than the familiarity she has found with Vulgaris.

But it is familiar all the same.

At her request, Leliana’s smile grows just a touch wider, her hazel eyes brightening. “Of course,” she enthuses, stepping back and then pulling on those strange and wild threads of magic that light up around them both. Without hesitation, she opens up a portal, throwing it wide with a dizzy array of leaves and petals and nods toward her friend. “I will show you one of my favorite places in Tephra.”

It is relatively new. At least, in this form. The land itself has been around for as long as Tephra has been, but she has taken to growing the private grove for the use of her family. It is tucked away and hidden by tangling vine and tree roots and while you can reach it if you try, she finds that it is much easier to simply teleport here. Which is what she does, walking through the archway and trusting her friend to follow.

When the portal closes, she breathes in deep, smelling the thick fragrance of the plants that grow here and the churned earth below. “This is a special place,” she says, her voice nearly reverent. “After the war, I lost so much. My husband and my daughter both perished. I was able to travel to the afterlife and pull Vulgaris back, it was not as easy to bring Linnea.” There is something like sadness thick in her throat, but she doesn’t shy from it. “It took me months, but I was able to regrow her. Right here.”

She remembers what it had been like to wait. To worry. To stand in this very spot over the spot where she had planted her daughter like a seed and waited for her to take form.

Now she is beautiful—strong and tender as any of the trees here.

Shaking her head, she smiles.

“Tephra has regrown so much, but there is still more to be done.” Her eyes find her friends and remain steady as she searches them. “I need friends like you, Isilya. I need as much help as you can offer.”

like fire weeping from a cedar tree, know that my love would burn with me