They were young, but their heart was failing. One last adventure found a magic artifact that buried itself into their chest replacing the heart that had been damaged by long bouts of illness. However, unlike other artifacts similar to it, it did not try to change their usually kind, and gentle, nature. It simply acted as a replacement heart. -- Anon Guest
"One adventure," said Fennel. "All I need is to find a Hartsoke seed before it's too late." She was a soft-spoken Cleric of Aurorus, the Dawn Lord. After strenuous battles, she often had her lips or fingers turn a pale, deathly blue. She had magic potions, magic amulets, and magic charms, but there was only so much magic could do.
Greesh the Kobold Rogue looked at her with each eye. Fighting their natural instinct to run and hide. "I've heard of them. People who use Hartsoke use it for dark magic. It eats up the actual heart, makes folks literally heartless."
"It takes over the heart," corrected Fennel. "That doesn't make it, or anyone who uses it, evil."
"No plant is evil," said the Druid Halestaff, their manner gentle as always. "As the potioneers say, the devil is in the dosage. Or... the heart that takes it."
Bastion the Fighter surfaced from her meal. "Hartsoke takes the body, too. When the user dies. How's that not evil?"
"The same way a plant growing over a corpse is not evil," said Halestaff. "It just does what a plant does."
"Part of that is making more Hartsoke," objected Greesh. "Opening the door to more evil."
"My body is already going to the Temple of the New Sun when I pass," said Fennel. "It will be guarded by the power of Aurorus and the best Knight Saints they can train."
"Wait," said Greesh. "Your body? You're using the seed?"
"I need it," said Fennel. "Or I will not last to see next winter."
"But..." said Bastion. "You're like sixteen. You're too young to have heart trouble."
"Would that youth could quell my heart's habit of mumbling," Fennel had a wan smile. "I was born with the trouble. Aurorus' worship keeps me... somewhat healthy. Well. Healthy enough. He gave me a vision of the seed and how it would help me."
Bastion rubbed at the base of one of her horns. "Well. He is the god of second chances. And rebirth, come to think of it. Just remember - if you turn evil, I'm chopping your head off and burning your heart to ashes."
This earned her a merry smile. "I would not expect anything less. Thank you."
[Photo by Jametlene Reskp on Unsplash]
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