#blame it on the unholy number of times i replayed hibari misora's ringo oiwake drawing this

[mercisnm]

Tissaia shakes her head. 'Promise me nothing, Yennefer. Flowers fade. Seasons turn. It is the way of it.' Yennefer stares down at Tissaia for a long moment before she suddenly turns away and reaches up to a low-hanging bough of the apple tree, plucking a sprig off the end of the branch. She murmurs a word, and the cold wood begins to change, growing at speed, small shoots appearing, rising into green leaves, then small buds forming, until a few pink-tinged blossoms have emerged, seemingly unaffected by the cold. 'We are mages, Tissaia,’ she says quietly, looking from the blossomed branch to Tissaia’s blue eyes. ‘I refuse to bow to the inevitability of the cycle, for under our direction, flowers may be coaxed to bloom after the long slumber of frost and snow. When I say I shall return to you, will you wait for me?’

From chapter 5 of @galeaspida's fic And So We Fall Together (The One With The Unicorn)