The portal to the Walled Garden eases open, an oval of absolute darkness filling the bounds of the archway. Stepping through, the heritors find...a small villa, a noble's estate perhaps. It perches on a cliffside, the ground dropping away beyond the marble walls into a misty void. It is nothing like the previous Road, nothing whatsoever.

It appears to be empty, and still, and silent. There are no Uncreated, nor any angelic constructs, nothing moving at all. It has an eerie atmosphere, though, shadows flickering and an uncomfortable feeling of being watched. When you find, after some labor, the exit buried deep within the villa's heart, it comes as a definite relief.

Through this portal, the Walled Garden appears. You step out through an archway formed by tree branches into a large woodland area. It's late evening, and the air smells of flowers. Paper lanterns hang from the trees, each one marked with some kind of symbol that is difficult to read - a divergent dialect, perhaps? No one is easily visible, but there is a well-worn trail proceeding not far away.

A quick glance confirms that the trees around you are all varieties that have sweet blossoms or edible fruits - cherry, peach, apple, orange, it doesn't seem to matter whether they should all grow in the same climate. The undergrowth has smaller plants of the same sort, whether they be wild strawberry or rambling blackberry bushes.

It hadn't been the cleanest method, but with no clear starting point, pulling randomly from the lists of the portals that sounded most intriguing had been the only clear way to narrow their focus enough to prepare for what might be on the far side. Rashana was there and ready, dressed lightly, adding a satchel across her frame with some supplies to her former attire, but remaining fairly simply-garbed, practical but pretty.

After operating the device, she spared the others a glance, and passed through first, taking the lead, since this had been one of the portals she'd tossed into the mix of the list. She was on guard, passing through the Night Road, tense and ready to act - but the road seemed quiet in passing, this time, a relief.

Emerging into the Garden itself, she cast an eye about, but stayed close by the portal, waiting for the others - particularly Sani, as she expected the other inheritor would find a lot of interest here, and could likely offer a great deal of insight.

She spotted and inspected the lanterns, however, and noted the actual path through the area, but waited for the others to emerge as she made some simple observations about the lantern's material and structure. She didn't tap into her miraculous gifts to intuit deeper details, not yet, but a cursory expert examination alone would surely tell plenty.

"It's... pretty here, lots of... edible plants, it looks like?" She mused. "I'm no expert, but it seems strange to see so many varieties sharing a garden..."

Alvatter walked through the portal next, stepping off to the side as he took in the surroundings. The Walled Garden seemed to be true to its name, at least in part. He spoke idly as he surveyed the area for any active forms of magic or theurgy that might be hidden beyond his casual first inspection.

"If nothing else this gate can provide us some immediate stocks of food and fertile land to grow future crops. Lumber as well although we would have to be mindful about cutting anything down lest we upset the ecological balance of this Realm. Or Realm fragment."

Alvatter activates Subtle Eye of Knowing

"Simply taking whatever we find without concern for whomever created it is... probably not the wisest course. There's some degree of magic at work in this combination of plants - it wouldn't be possible to grow them in the same place like this under normal circumstances. Moreover, these lanterns seem like magical warding, though, only backed by mild magic..."

She inspected the one nearest her, reading the markings on it... "Not sure if it's all one being, or more than one. They refer to it as a Collector, Lampkeeper, Guardian, and  Watcher...?" She cast an eye about, awaiting the others, clearly a bit wary of things, though also curious. "This path is well-worn, too. Regularly walked."

Alvatter's divine powers revealed to him the subtle magic of this Realm and as he was nearing to speak on it Rashana divulged the same insights. Furthermore she had actually be capable of reading the divergent dialect where he had not. Coughing to cover his sudden embarrassment he nodded a few times in agreement with her words.

"Yes, I uh."

"I suppose we should follow it then. Perhaps find out who inhabits this realm."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:22, Thu 22 Oct 2020.

  The darkness flexes again, and La comes through.  She again seemss ready to take notes, but the datapads hadn't worked properly since they arrived in Nexus, so she carries pen and paper instead.  She immediately bows low to Alvatter and Rashana, as is her habit, but usually, she stands up again.  This time she freezes in place, at an angle that must be a strain for her back.  She turns only her head to one side and stares, then glares in perplexity, at a patch of wild strawberry.

  "What did you do...?" Even at a whisper, the question comes as an accusation.  It takes her a second to realize that, and when she does she becomes upright, red-faced, and drawn in on herself so fast, she barely seems to cover the intervening space.  "A life of apologies, Holy Ones.  This one does not presume to critique the designs of Your Divinities.  And, it seems strikingly unlikely that this place has been touched by them.  This one was merely startled by the... strange appearance of the fruit.  The words were not meant for anyone at all."

Moving along the cobbled path, the paper lanterns continue to cast their light over the plants and stones of the Garden. More and more fruits and flowers can be seen, each plant flourishing, the air sweetly scented with jasmine and lavender and sakura blossoms. The grasses sway in a faint breeze, but the air is warm and comfortable.

After perhaps twenty minutes, a short wooden palisade comes into view. More enchanted paper lanterns hang from it, each one brightly colored and shining with a fierce light. And...a familiar one...

Before you can fully process the fact that you're seeing Laila's divine Light coming from within those lanterns, a watchman calls out from the palisade, the words oddly accented but still comprehensible. "Hail, travelers. Well met."

Moving along the path Alvatter kept his senses tuned to the arcane, trying to be aware of any sources of magic other than those that were sustaining the plants in the area. This kept him from appreciating the natural splendor of his surroundings but it was a small price to pay for awareness. Of course he still wasn't prepared to find Laila's own divine energies burning in the paper lanterns that lined the palisades. Taking a moment to gather himself he stepped out and called up to the man.

"Well met to you as well. My name is Alvatter and these are my companions. We would seek entry."

The watchman nods amiably. "Certainly, certainly. You don't seem hostile, I see no reason why not. Let me get the gate for you."

The gate swings open, revealing a settlement built of stone and wood. Most of the architecture is very old, and of an unfamiliar, flowing style. People are moving around dressed in fine cloth, silks and linens predominating. Almost universally, they are beautiful, and graceful. The heritors attract some odd looks on the way inside, but no one actually stops them.

It's hard to miss the paper lanterns everywhere, each one blazing with a spark of divine Light. Each one has those same glyphs on it - old wards, not terribly strong, and invocations of protection against the Lampkeeper.

"I expect you'll want to talk to Madam al-Saif, seeing as you're visitors," the guard continues blithely. "Not too often we see any of those aside from traders."

"Thank you" he said, casting a quick glance to his companions. He had not known them to violent but they certainly were dangerous in their own way. Still he didn't see any need in undercutting their own objectives and proceeded into the city as the gates opens. He took a moment to survey his surroundings, once again looking for signs of magic. The appearances of the towns people did not slip his notice and he suppressed a blush as a sudden feeling of being underdressed passed over him. Stumbling into a reply he tried to carry the conversation as naturally as possible.

"Ah yes, yes of course. We would very much appreciate an audience with this Madam al-Saif."

As they walked he asked a few questions of the man.

"You mentioned traders earlier. From whereabouts do they come from and what is it that they are trading with you."

"If you don't mind humoring my curiosity that is."

  La, on the other hand, blends in much better in her tastefully subdued ceremonial robes, even as her behavior makes her stand out. She hasn't come down from her goggle-eyed shock at the most impossibly mundane things around them, but barely glances at the lanterns except to grumble something about lighting the sun. A pair of locals passes especially close, once, to where she is gingerly prodding a cobblestone, and she slips into place with them, just an old friend gathered on the way to somewhere else. In seconds, she's gone without leaving, another ornamental servant in a land full of them. For that matter, the inhabitants' fluid grace is familiar, as an approximation of hers.

  The temple girl appears a few more times as the others follow the Watchman, always in a group, never quite close enough to talk to.

Bire La's odd behavior definitely caught the artisan's eye, though she gave it no comment once the apology came, a small shake of her head serving as the only reply, with no real presence of judgement or negativity.  No need for an apology, as she saw it.

Advancing with the rest, there were more of the lanterns, with something warm and familiar about the light, though vaguely so. Alvatter made introductions when they were called upon, and that suited Rashana, as she continued to observe, keeping close.

She didn't notice exactly when Bire slipped away from the group, but did notice her absence, after several moments - nothing she brought attention to, but it was only furthering her curiosities about the slip of a girl. Alvatter's questions mirrored her own, so she allowed them to stand for her as well, her eyes searching the area, mentally mapping what she could see, making some inferences of what she couldn't. The fact of a simple wall told her plenty... either it had been erected in a hurry against the threat they faced, or wood was a sufficient defense against it and it hadn't needed to be improved, especially given the stonework on display...

The group follows along behind the guard, and are soon shown to a particularly large and ornate stone home. Inside, in a sitting room with plush silk upholstery and carved wooden ornaments, an older woman is having tea with...Laila. But Laila looks not quite as she did before, back on the Night Road.

The other woman looks up and smiles. "Ah, guests. Do come in, have some tea. I am Kayla al-Saif, you might think of me as the leader of our little home. This is Laila Casryn, a recent arrival herself."

Leaving it to Laila to describe how her appearance and demeanor have changed.

Situated comfortably on a seat more throne than chair, its lacquered arms patterned with intricate swirls, sat one Laila Casryn, a tall teacup of gilded glass in her right hand. Having just taken a sip she lowered her cup, idly looked to the new arrivals at the doorway, and sharply froze. Naked and unguarded shock flashed in her eyes – her hand shuddered, wavered on its path – but then she seemed to find herself again. Laila leaned forward and gently set her glass down on the dark wood table. The clink it made was slight but rang clean and clear. It roused a sudden tautness in her jaw.

She stilled a breath to let the tension ebb, her lips a tight thin line, then smoothly rose and turned to meet her past.

Even at a glance it was clear that Laila had changed – that this was not the brash and uncompromising figure they had left within the Night. She had the air of someone more mature about her, more measured and comfortable within her own skin. Indeed one could almost believe her older by more than the mere days and weeks that they had been apart, and with the strangeness of the space that lay between realms who could say for sure that such was not the case. She seemed more and yet at the same time somehow less.

At some point in her absence she had cast aside her former wardrobe for something a little more practical. Rather than her pristine uniform of gleaming white she was dressed merely in well-tailored dark pants, boots of fine leather and a sleeveless white shirt that felt downright stark in surrounds so dominated by finery and excess. With her right arm uncovered it now revealed a tattoo like a golden sunburst that traced smoothly along the contours of her skin to terminate on the back of her hand. A half-cape of a deep crimson trimmed with delicate golden thread adorned her left shoulder and hung loose over her side, its silhouette almost enough to mask the absence of her arm. But there was no hiding that particular loss.

Laila looked out at her former companions with eyes that eyes that didn’t burn so bright, their edges marked by dark rings that outshone her makeup. Something pulled at her lips, some nameless warring emotion, and her breath seemed to catch. Her hand settled on her collarbone.

“Is this a dream…?” she asked, voice thick. “I thought you were lost to me.”
This message was last edited by the player at 01:09, Thu 05 Nov 2020.

Rashana came in with a gentle nod of her head in respect and politeness, but as the woman made introductions, she raised her eyes to the woman's guest, and her breath caught briefly. Laila Casryn.

The color half-drained from her face at the name, and she felt her throat tense into a knot. Laila's loss had hurt and more than once she'd warred with herself about reinstalling the lever and going back through to find her, to at least see what had become of her - but always the safety of the survivors had been enough to keep her from actually following through. To find her here, though, unexpected, clearly having endured a great deal...

"Y-You're here? Laila?" Rashana's voice slightly broke, as one hand came up to cover her mouth, left gaping slightly open. Green eyes blinked and batted a time or two, as if doubting what they were seeing. And then they took it all in, passing over Laila's bared arm, her new attire... the simple mantle that concealed - only just, the absence of her left arm. And the familiar blade she'd crafted for her, what felt like only weeks ago, and yet her eyes could see the wear on the stained-glass blade matched that of its wielder.

Rashana moved forward quickly, and rushed to wrap her arms around Laila's shoulders, answering her with a tensely audible breath. "I didn't think we'd ever see you again..."

The moment was quick, and Laila could hear her swallow before she managed to step back, taking about a half-breath in deep, before quietly expelling it and looking to  the other woman. "Ummm. I'm sorry. It's just... We weren't expecting to find Laila here..." She looked back to the dark-haired woman, her expression still kind of in shock. "...You... you've been through a lot, it looks like. More than we have... it's been... weeks since we lost you..."

Rashana seemed entirely off her balance, but steadying herself, trying to, at the least. How successful she was being was entirely another question.