Swaying Tarragon

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. If the town elders were to be believed, Acacia was once a thriving city down in the valley floor, large, bustling, paved roads with towering buildings. It was once the hub of culture and trade for leagues in any direction. Not that anyone could argue with them. The elders who were all well past their sixtieth winters, were not even born when the dragons had invaded Acacia. Having heard all their stories from the elders before them, who had heard it from the elders before them, and so on for several generations. What Acacia might’ve been almost 500 winters ago was buried in ruins on the valley floor. A place even the bravest of souls, and the stupidest of minds dare not tread. Acacia that was, was untouchable, and Acacia Minor, what was left of that great bustling hub of culture and trade was nothing more than a tiny trade town on the Phytera Flat, nestled in the mountains, as close as anyone dare get to the valley of the dragons.

Back in Acacia that was, it was common for someone to be able to hear the flora communicating amongst themselves, although it was more like hearing a whisper on the wind than hearing someone talking next to you. There were those, that were blessed with the ability to not only understand but communicate with the flora, and a great academy dedicated to strengthening their abilities and study deeper the intricacies of the plants and their histories. The blessed were referred to as Anthophiles and their great academy was known as the Copse. When Acacia that was, fell, so fell the Copse and most of the Anthophiles with it. As time trudged on the people of Acacia never lost their ability to hear the flora. However, the ability to be an Anthophile, to understand and communicate freely with the plants had long been considered a myth. That is until Sariphylla Mycorrhizal was born.

Sariphylla – known as Sari by her closest relations – lay in her favorite clearing, face to the sky, soaking up not only the warm sun, but also the bright chatter of the grasses and mosses and low murmur of the trees that surrounded her. Most days she let these soothing sounds lull her into a half-sleep and let her mind wander, and dreams engulf her thoughts. Today in one of those dream like reveries, Sari found herself perched at the top of a massive ash, a few hundred feet in the air. The air was sweet, but cold, bearing the scent of freshly harvested alfalfa, and the chill of winter just around the corner. Everything seemed peaceful, until she was nearly thrown from the tree by a sudden barrage of wind followed closely by a staggering noise that seemed to be everywhere at once and reverberated deep in her chest, as well as a chilling and deep darkness that swept over the valley floor. As she gazed from her swaying perch what could only be a dragon started to descend steadily, spiraling closer and closer, as the wind from its wings continued to buffet her and the surrounding trees.

As she continued to cling to the tree she noticed a city in the distance dazzling in the sunlight, and a large crowd of people gathered outside the wall surrounding it. In that moment she was very much afraid that her dream was about to make her watch Acacia that was, fall. The amount of terror, pain, bloodshed, and destruction described to her by the elders was not something she was keen on reliving in the vividity of her dream world. But as she focused on the crowd, using the sight you can only have in a dream, she realized that instead of weapons and fear, she saw joy and excitement. The crowd was cheering as if their army was returning from an arduous battle they had just won. The cheering and excitement reached a crescendo as the dragon landed in the clearing.

It was at this moment a hand grabbed Sari’s shoulder, shocked she fell from her perch, and awoke startled in her clearing. “Sari, ooooh Sari!!” A familiar voice was crooning in her ear. “Oh good, you’re finally awake. I don’t know if you’re aware but not only is your father in a tizzy over your where abouts, but elder Arvilla is looking for you as well. It’s a very good thing no one else knows where your secret hiding place is. I doubt you’d get any peace if they knew where to find you.” Bryo, her best friend, continued to natter away at her.

“Yes, because peace and quiet is exactly what I think of when I think of your boorish face.” Sari sighed as she stretched and accepted the hand Bryo offered, swiftly pulling her up on her feet. The thought of having to deal with the disappointment and disapproval wafting out of every pore of elder Arvilla and the cold worry dripping from her father was enough for Sari want to curl back up amongst the soft grass tickling her feet.

Elder Arvilla was in charge of the healers, and since Sari was quite adept at not only finding even the rarest of herbs but also effortlessly mixing them in the ways needed for whichever ailment lay before her, was therefore also in charge of her. Sari hadn’t wanted to be a healer. She very much wanted to be a Drosera like her mother. The Droseras oversaw the town’s defense and defending the trade routes when convoys were necessary, and on the rarest occasions, when scouting past the Flat became crucial. It was on one such scouting mission that Sari’s mother, Angi, disappeared with the rest of the scouting party. There had been a terrible sickness that had ravaged through the town and try as they might the healers could not create a single concoction to help the people fight it off. A plant said to have vast healing powers was rumored to grow just on the other side of the Bulwark Forest – a forest at the opposite end of the Phytera Flat from Acacia Minor, blocking the only way down into the valley. So tall and so dense it was considered to be the best natural defense against the dragons as the survivors of Acacia that was, fled into the mountains to escape the devastation of their home.

The disappearance of her mother is what lead to her father becoming stricter and more worrisome over the health and safety of his daughter. At the age of ten winters, the age that children in her town chose which trade they were to pursue into adulthood, Sari’s wants had fallen on deaf ears and instead of joining Bryo on the Drosera training grounds she was handed to Arvilla to learn healing. She quickly learned that what was a fondness for plants as a child, turned into a proclivity for healing that hadn’t been seen for many years. At first, she thought, that her natural talent for working with the flora of the Flat and the concocting of healing potions would mean an easy apprenticeship. She soon found out that she would not be allowed to merely glide through her coursework. Elder Arvilla was a stickler for details and a tyrant as a mentor. She met with disdain and disapproval at every turn.

Her early mornings with Bryo before they had to attend their apprenticeships, and her escapes to her clearing were the only times she truly felt at ease and herself. To her father’s dismay and exasperation – should he ever find out – Bryo and Sari met every morning at dawn in her clearing to practice using the Chakrams, the circular throwing blades, favored by the Droseras. As long as they stopped early enough for her to pick herbs on the way back into town, her lie to her father that she woke up at dawn to gather herbs for Arvilla would hold.

“I personally think you should just tell your father that you’re learning to use the Chakram. I mean honestly how many stories about tripping and cutting yourself on a branch is he going to believe?” Bryo asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen as they made their way back into town.

“Yes, because what better way to end up being chained up inside my home and never being able to leave it again than to tell my father that I’ve explicitly disobeyed his orders and have learned the one thing that not only has he told me not to but that he associates with my lost mother.” Sari said as she rolled her eyes. “Sounds like the best plan in the world… Sometimes I wonder how you haven’t been kicked out of the Droseras yet.” At that moment Sari stilled, overcome suddenly with the half-sleep, dreamlike, reverie she easily slipped into in her clearing. It was the first time she slipped into it unbidden. Had Bryo not been next to her she would’ve collapsed to the forest floor. Unaware of the happenings in the real world, her dream world had propelled her through the forest, to the edge of the town. She stood there unsure of where to go, normally she would have walked right through the gate and straight home, but in her dream, she was overcome with a deep dread and the suffocating smell of burning.

As suddenly as she had slipped into the reverie, she was back in the forest with Bryo, half laying in his lap, staring at his troubled face. With fear in her eyes, she firmly said as she stood, “We have to get back to the town, something is terribly wrong.” Without looking back to see if Bryo was following she sprinted through the trees.