They locate the Hartsoke plant, so insanely few and far between they are that it was nearly her end to find it. But the guardian had to be certain that this was need and not want. That this was her own choice in truth, not force, for her sake and her life.
@internutter/challenge-04498-l114-harder-heartstrings -- Anon Guest
...through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered... They arrived at the Garded Grove on the cusp of Autumn. Halestaff had to carry Fennel up the steep slope to its entrance. Bastion hauled her armour. Greesh, when not checking for traps, was urgently foraging for anything that would help.
Halestaff was using as much magic as he could spare to keep Fennel alive.
And there, at the entrance, was the guardian. They only looked like an Elf, but there was an aura of menace about them that said that they were not an Elf. Wearing the armour of a long-dead empire was a portent of doom to anyone who knew anything about adventuring.
There were two ways to try this, and the crew were too smart to try the usual one.
Bastion was quicker. Presenting his blade in humility. "Guardian. We come on behalf of our friend, who has received a vision gifted her by her god. We've traveled so far under their guidance, in the hope that we could gain her salvation."
When the not-Elf spoke, there was a rumble like an earthquake under their voice. "You seek the seed that eats hearts. That makes the heartless. The seed that is sought by many great evils in the world. For what purpose?"
"To replace a heart that would kill her," said Halestaff. "So she may live beyond winter, and continue doing her god's will."
Fennel tapped Halestaff's shoulder, and spent most of her energy in standing on her own. Her skin had gone pale and waxy. Her lips were blue. She had not combed her own hair in weeks.
"Please," she said. "This is my only selfish want... to live beyond the limits of my flawed heart." Without looking, she added, "Greesh, don't even try to pick their pocket."
"...so much for plan B," mumbled the Kobold.
"My life is in your hands," said Fennel. "If you decree that I should die... so be it. I only beg my body be used to nourish a Hartsoke... for the next who comes in need."
"Do you fear death, Paladin?" said the not-Elf.
"I only regret the shortness of my life," said Fennel.
The not-Elf murmured some words in an ancient tongue. Runes appeared in the air and circled Fennel, who could only concentrate on breathing and staying upright. A wind sprang up from nowhere and ruffled her clothes and hair.
The not-Elf nodded, and handed her something.
It was small, and black, and glossy. It looked almost like a beetle, save that it didn't have legs.
"Swallow it," directed the not-Elf, "and bide in my grove until Spring."
Fennel swallowed it without fear. "All of you," she said, "remember your manners while we're visiting."
"Why are you looking at me when you say that?" said Greesh.
"Precedent?" guessed Bastion.
[Photo by Jametlene Reskp on Unsplash]
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