#several people threatened to drag me out of the office instead of ya know. comforting the person whos obviously very upset

[nature-played-a-trick-on-me]

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[rafcopter]

Camellia

At the sound of footsteps approaching the great tree, Nefen stirred.  She hadn't been sleeping, or even meditating; she'd just been away.  Somewhere else mentally or spiritually, maybe, while her body remained in the real world.  Whatever real meant anymore.  It was getting difficult to tell after the last couple of times she'd died.

She'd been going away more often of late.  None of her friends had called her on it yet, but she knew.  It was probably something worth worrying about.

For the moment, though, her friends weren't here, and she had the tree to look after.  She sat up, steadying herself on the branch that served as her perch, and looked around for the source of the noise.  She couldn't see very much, though.  The light emanating from Sigil's core had faded considerably since the last time she'd opened her eyes, and it was almost completely dark out.  She could make out the various limbs of the tree stretching out around her, and the outline of the trunk descending to the ground, all in shades of mottled gray, but the owner of the footsteps was still beyond her sight.

She held her breath and listened.  Something was wrong with those footfalls -- they sounded uneven, scraping, as if one leg was being dragged behind the other.

Nefen gathered herself and dropped from her perch.  Her bare feet landed in the soft soil below without much more than a muffled thump, but she wobbled as she landed, and had to go down on one knee to avoid crashing onto her backside.  She sneered a little at herself.  She'd spent too much time of late confined by her boots and armor.  She was losing the touch of her toes against the earth.

The footsteps had stopped.  Their owner had probably heard her fumbling.  She sighed.  "Who's there?" she said, letting her irritation at herself bleed into her own voice.

There was no immediate answer.  She wondered if she was imagining a hesitation on the wind.

"Look, it's almost antipeak, and I'm not in the mood to play games," she grumbled into the night, keeping her voice low enough that it wouldn't wake the shrine's other attendant.  "No one skulks around Sigil at this hour unless they're up to something mean, or they're really unlucky.  So you'd better let me know which one you are real quick, or I might start taking guesses."

There was another beat of uncertain waiting.  Then a dry croak answered her from somewhere to her left, much, much closer than she would have expected.  "Isn't this place a temple?"  The voice was raspy, female, smoldering.  It was also strained, like it was covering some sort of ongoing pain.  "Have to say I expected a better welcome."

"Sorry, but Sigil's a dangerous place at night," Nefen remarked.  "You came all this way without a Light Boy?  How'd you get by the cranium rats?"

"The darkness and I are good pals," the voice intoned.  "What about you?"

Nefen responded by touching her holy symbol and invoking a quick spell.  A tongue of flame leapt to life in the palm of her hand, dimly illuminating the area in front of her.  She squinted as her darkvision adjusted, but she was easily able to identify the silhouette of a humanoid creature in front of her.  It was a woman, tall, dressed in leather armor on top of a bodysuit that were both dyed to a matte black.  Her skin was a shade of burgundy red that was only slightly brighter, a color which was also reflected in her catseye pupils and curved horns.  Behind her, the nervous lash of a spade-tipped tail punctuated her hunched posture, the reaction of a deer caught in carriage lights.

Nefen decided to drag the moment out, and gave the woman another once-over.  She had weapons visible on her belt, although none were drawn right now.  She looked like she had run the gauntlet to get here; various nicks and cuts were evident in her clothing and flesh, and some were outlined in blood.  One particularly deep gash along her thigh explained her dragging step.  The worst of her injuries seemed to be to her right hand, which she was cradling within the confines of her vest with her left clutched over it.  Of course, she could have been concealing a weapon under there instead, but she looked more spooked than menacing.  If anything, she looked set to scurry back into the shadows.

Nefen sighed again, and lowered her hands so she wouldn't appear threatening.  Still, she didn't extinguish the light.  "This tree is a shrine of Mielikki," she said.  "A sanctuary.  You're safe here.  I'm sorry.  I thought-- well, things have been tense lately.  I'm a little bit on edge."

"Yeah, well, we all got our own problems."  The woman's eyes flicked up toward the canopy, and then to the side, back into the night.  "So, what now?  Do I get to walk up to your holy tree, or are you gonna tell me you don't serve my kind here?"

"Huh?"  Nefen blinked.  "Your kind?"

"Yeah.  Tieflings."  She tossed her head, as if to indicate her horns.  "You holy types seem extra grumpy about devils an' shit lately.  So if you're gonna tell me to hit the streets, might as well be up front about it."

"Yeah, well, that's only because devils--"  Nefen cut herself off before she said more than she had to.  "There are rumors going round about devils and that whole thing with the Interplanar Gala--"

"Right right, crashed the party at the Twistwhistle Mansion, Lady of Pain got real mad an' shit."  The woman flapped her free hand impatiently.  "Wasn't me, so don't care.  Do I come in or do I gotta go?"

"Well, there's not exactly an in, but..."  Nefen looked behind her and up, where, on the Material Plane, she might have been greeted by the face of the moon.  "All seekers are welcome here.  Do... do you need some kind of help?"

"Yeah I need some kinda help!"  The visitor grunted angrily.  "What'd you think I was visiting temples in the middle of the night for?  The torus tour?  C'mon, go fetch me a priest or somethin', will ya?"

"Oh.  Uh..."  Nefen banished her distractions and admonished herself again.  She was definitely out of practice.  "I-I'm sorry.  But I'm a priestess of Mielikki.  What... how can I help you?"

"You are?"  The woman gritted her teeth, giving Nefen a glimpse of pronounced fangs, before arching her brows in a dubious look.  "Figured you for the hired muscle, or somethin'."

"We of the pack come in all kinds," Nefen scoffed, rolling her eyes.  "Do you want Mielikki's help, or not?"

"Okay.  Yeah.  Sorry.  Yeah."  She swatted at her ash-colored hair, running a nail over one horn as she did so.  "Look, the other temples have turned me away.  Said I was asking for something sick, or unnatural.  Some of the paladins wanted to smite me."

"Paladins can get like that.  They don't know any better.  It's not anything personal.  Try not to blame them for it."

"Uh... sure.  I guess."  She gave a sniff, which might have descended into a sniffle.  "Look, I gotta be up front with you.  Can we talk?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, of course."  Nefen gestured toward the trunk of the tree.  "Step into my office."

"Is... is that a joke?"

"Yes."  She smiled sweetly, and led the way over.  The dirt felt more natural beneath her feet with every step.

"I, uh..."  The woman was still clearly uncomfortable.  "I know this is weird, so, er... th-tha--"

"What's your name?" Nefen asked.

"Huh?"

"Your name," she repeated.  "If we're going to talk, I want to know what to call you.  I'm Nefen, by the way.  Hi."

The woman said nothing for several seconds.  She seemed to be mulling over her response.  "Camellia," she said, finally.

"Camellia?"  Nefen blinked.  "Like the flower?"

"Yeah, yeah.  The red one.  Go on.  I heard 'em all."

"I'm not going to make fun of you, stupid."  Nefen found a comfortable spot beneath the tree and sat down.  She gestured for Camellia to do the same.  "You came looking for help, and I'm going to help.  So let's talk."

Camellia still didn't seem convinced.  Her eyes darted this way and that, and she remained hunched in her posture, but eventually she allowed herself to drop into a crouch.  "Look," she said finally.  "Here's what it is.  I need healing.  Big-time healing.  You can do that sort of thing, right?"

"Maybe," Nefen allowed.  "I've learned not to get too uppity about what I can heal.  But I can try."

"Can you reattach something that's been cut off?"

"That depends.  Is it gross?"

"W-wha--"

"Trick question," Nefen interrupted.  "If it's cut off, it's already gross.  Whatever.  Show me."

Camellia glanced down to the arm hidden by her vest.  "Only if you promise not to ask any questions."

"I don't promise that."

She looked annoyed.  "It'd be better for you, trust me."

"Nope.  Don't trust you.  I don't even know you."  Nefen arched an eyebrow at the other woman.  "I thought you said you wanted to talk?"

Camellia looked uncomfortable.  "I changed my mind," she hedged.

"Look, I don't know how it works at the other temples," Nefen said.  "To be honest, I haven't been in Sigil for very long."

"Makes two of us."

"But Mielikki doesn't help people by saying, there you go, cured your wounds, good luck, mortal," Nefen went on.  "Here we're all about guiding people to their path.  Or at least, I am.  So, if you've got this problem that the other gods won't help you with, you might as well tell me.  Maybe then I can figure out how we can do it better."

"Do it better?  Is that..."  Camellia shook her head in confusion.  "Is that something a priestess cares about?"

"Trust me," Nefen said.  "Lately, it's all I've been doing."

"Uh... sure.  Why not.  What've those gods done for me lately, right?"  She gave an exaggerated shrug.  "Okay.  Here."  She withdrew the arm she'd been concealing.  The damage was worse than Nefen had been expecting, considering the woman was able to walk around and make smug remarks; the hand had been completely severed at the wrist, and the stump was swathed in a blackened bandage.  As she reached out to touch it, Camellia winced, but didn't offer anything else in the way of protest.

Nefen pressed her fingers to the bottom of the bandage.  She felt warmth to it, but little else; it wasn't sticky with blood, nor did it shudder with the palsy of pain or shock.  "What happened?" she asked breathlessly.

Once again, Camellia hesitated.  "You gotta promise not to tell anyone."

"I promise," Nefen said.

Camellia swallowed before continuing.  "You heard of the Harmonium?  The Hardheads?  Faction big into the law, think they run things in Sigil?"

Nefen forced her expression to go blank.  "I might have."

"You know they have a library in their big ol' fort?  Keep it under major lock and key?"

"It... sounds familiar."

"You know they get real violent towards folk who try to break in?"

"That... sounds like something they would do."

Camellia stared at her, like she might have been reading between the lines.  "Well, I broke in."  Her voice and posture invited disapproval.  "And then I broke out.  Not unscathed, obviously.  But you should see the other guys."

"So if I'm guessing -- and I am guessing," Nefen murmured, "considering the Hardheads sponsor or have bodies in half the temples in Sigil, you're probably not exactly welcome around most of them right now."

"Never said nobody saw my face," Camellia commented.  "That's not the issue."

"You got into their library, tangled with their guards, and got out, and nobody saw your face?"

"Like I said, darkness and me are old pals," she said.  "Believe me.  No one saw my face."

"Their loss, I guess," Nefen responded.

"I-it's my hand, okay?"  Camellia looked away, and reached into her armor with her working arm.  With it, she pulled out the missing hand, which didn't look like hers at all.  Its skin tone was completely different, being a pale shade, one more akin to a human from a northern region.  The fingers of the hand were curled into a fist, with the thumb tucked beneath, as if preparing for a forceful punch.  It was a strange sight to behold.  Here before her was a woman brandishing a severed hand that seemed much more full of life than she, with its blue veins and tensed muscles and clear purpose.  Meanwhile, she was reticent, unhappy, tense and yet slack.  It wasn't a stretch for Nefen to view the hand as a beating heart, removed from its owner, who was lifeless and lost without it.

Still, this whole thing made no sense.  "This," she declared, obviously, "is not your hand."

"I know, okay?!"  Camellia's voice was defiant and defensive.  "It isn't, but it is.  It's mine.  It's more me than me.  I don't know how to explain it, but there it is.  Can you reattach it, or not?"

Nefen ignored the question, and gave the proferred hand another examination.  "This looks like a man's hand," she observed.  "It's the width and the length of the fingers that make it look it.  And the nails.  I bet if you could get it to relax, the palm lines--"

"Look," the woman cut her off.  "Can you do it, or can't you?"

"It's not your hand," Nefen replied.  "So no, I can't do it."

"It is, though."

She smiled patiently.  "Maybe you'd better explain."

"Ugh."  Camellia gave an impatient sigh, like she was about to recount a tale that everybody should know.  "His name was Avelim, okay?  He was a monk, a real powerful warrior in the service of a god you've probably heard of but who cares.  He was brave and capable and intelligent.  He was the best.  He could vanish into the shadows like he was made of them.  He made rogues and sneak thieves look like bumbling idiots.  He could move like the wind and hide like the darkness, but he was a human.  He was an idiot.  He was an adventurer and hero and he fell in love like a moron and he died."

"Uh-huh."  Nefen was wearing a broad grin by the end of her recounting, but she didn't care.  "And you wound up with his hand, because...?"

"Because it was me, okay?  Because he fell in love with me."  Camellia was only becoming more incensed and irascible, which made her visage all the more adorable.  "We adventured together.  We conquered kobolds and formorians and vampires and all kinds of monsters together, but in the end he changed.  Died.  To what, it doesn't matter.  The important thing is that he refused to accept it.  He made a deal with his god, in his final moment, to change himself, and me.  His hand is all I have left of him, but -- and I know it's gross, and weird -- through it, I have his powers.  And his protection.  But only when-- only when it's attached to me.  When it is me."

Nefen smiled.  She kept smiling for a while.  When Camellia failed to add anything, she decided to speak up.  "You're right," she declared cheerfully.  "That is pretty gross."

"What do you know?!" Camellia retorted defensively.  She wasn't getting the joke.  "What could even make sense, to a priestess of a goddess of nature?  I guess 'natural' just means what's orthodox.  People can only get with the people they're meant to.  Half-races like me are an abomination, that's what the paladins are always saying."

"Yeah, you disgusting mongrel."  Nefen stretched, and then brushed her hair back, making sure that the other woman got a clear look at her knife-ears.  "Half-breeds are gross.  Totally unnatural."

She still didn't look impressed.  "Oh no, a half-elf," she grumbled.  "Woe is me, I can get along with everyone in the world because of how beautiful I am.  Look at my totally normal skin, and my lack of horns, and my nonexistent tail."

"I've had a tail before," Nefen mused.  "It really helps with balance, so I don't see what you're complaining about.  Anyway, let me see if I understand what you're telling me.  You're saying that Avelim's hand is part of you because of a pact that he made with his god."

"Something like that.  I'm inclined to believe it, too, 'cause ever since then, I've been able to do what he could."  She was blushing as she recounted the list.  "Flit through the shadows.  Move with unnatural speed.  I mean, I was always good at staying hidden before.  Never too much liked the human attention.  But since... well, since him..."

"It's fine.  It's great.  You don't need to make excuses."  Nefen offered one of her palms, face-up.  "Don't listen to the paladins.  Or the Hardheads, for that matter.  I don't know why you tried to break into their library, and I don't really care.  As far as I know, the way they hoard knowledge around here, it sort of comes to them naturally."

Camellia scratched at her collar with her working hand.  "It might come back to you if you help me."

"Please.  Send a paladin of Torm to this tree all angry about how we helped someone in need.  That'd be hilarious."  She wiggled her fingers.  "No promises, but let's try.  If Avelim's god made good on his promises, and if you're really part of each other, then a regeneration spell should do the trick."

"Hang on.  Wait."  Camellia recoiled, as if she'd placed her hand too close to a fire.  If that was even a reaction that tieflings had.  "You seem awfully okay with this.  I mean, compared to the other clerics I met tonight."

"Yeah, well," Nefen murmured.  "I may know a thing or two about gross magic hands."

"W-well... what if it doesn't work?  What does that mean?"

"I dunno.  You got cheated on your deal, probably."  Nefen forced a calm shrug.  "But if you think he's part of you, who cares what a god thinks?"

"I, uh..."  She looked askance, and blushed again.  "What kind of priestess says something like that?"

"I dunno," Nefen said again.  "A shitty one, probably."

Camellia offered no further protest as Nefen reached out and undid the bandage.  Underneath, the stump was charred and blackened, with even the protruding bone caked in a layer of soot.  "How can you even manage to walk like this?" Nefen marveled.

"I'm not sure," Camellia admitted.  "It hurts, but not as much as it should.  I think it has something to do with the magic on Avelim's hand.  Back when-- when it happened, when his god asked me, I had to give up the hand that was already there.  That hurt like hellfire.  This, by comparison..."

"This is burned, though," Nefen observed.  "Your work?  Or the Hardheads?"

"Mine."  The woman gnashed her teeth again.  "Bit of fire to cauterize the wound, stop the bleeding.  Fire don't bother me so much.  Tiefling, an' all."

"Lucky.  Fire bothers me a whole lot."  To punctuate the statement, Nefen doused her light and touched her holy symbol again.  She felt cool relief trickling out of it, and allowed herself to be caught up in its current.  Before she could lose herself to it, though, she blinked her eyes and picked out Camellia's silhouette in the returning darkness.  "Oh, um.  One thing before we continue.  Of course, I want to help you, and if this were my forest, it'd be no question.  But, uh, since this is Sigil, and temples here don't exactly have a free pass..."

If Nefen wasn't wrong, Camellia seemed to be smirking.  "Yes?"

"I don't like it, but I have to charge for this.  You can pay jink, right?"

"Don't worry," she answered dismissively.  "Money is no problem."

"Really?"

"I just told you I broke into the headquarters of the Harmonium," she responded haughtily.  "How would money be a problem for me, after that?"

"I dunno," Nefen grumbled.  "When I snuck in there, I didn't get any money out of it."

Camellia chuckled softly.  "So attendin' a shrine is only your moonlighting gig, I take it."

"It's what I'm doing this week," she answered.  "I'm starting now.  Try not to talk."

Mercifully, the woman followed instructions as Nefen invoked her healing magic.  She was still new to the regeneration spell; while she'd seen others cast its like before, her goddess had only recently blessed her with the means to bring it about herself.  She felt warmth and patience flow out from her outstretched limb, the calm march of a natural process taking place over the course of minutes.  Beneath her touch, she detected the reknitting of flesh and bone, lash and ligament.  She traced the flow of blood, the flex of muscle.  She listened to the harmony, and the dissonance, of human anatomy working with tiefling, the strange alchemy of mundane stock with a touch of the divine, mixed with a sprinkling of infernal brimstone.  It was weird, and gross, and perfect.  It was unnatural, and better for it.

She opened her eyes.  Beneath her fingers, the hand had reconnected with Camellia's arm.  There was a motley of blended color where the skin tones overlapped, but otherwise the joining looked seamless.  Unscarred.  As if this was how it was supposed to be.  "Well," Nefen observed.  "That worked."

Camellia was squinting her eyes distrustfully.  She pulled her hand out of Nefen's grip and made a fist with it, experimentally, in front of her face.  She splayed her fingers out, then clenched them together again, and then switched between the two rapidly as if she expected the hand to fail her under enough stress.  When it didn't, she let an expression of wonderment spread across her face as she looked Nefen in the eye.  "Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," Nefen answered.

"What do I owe you?"

She opened her mouth and quoted the amount that she'd been told to.  For some reason, the sound didn't come out as language to her, only noise.  It sounded like gibberish.  Nonetheless, Camellia seemed to nod understanding.  She started reaching for the purse at her belt.

"And one more thing," Nefen added.

"Yeah?" Camellia prompted, as she started fishing out coin.

"The god who gave you this blessing," she said.  "The one Avelim followed, and trusted enough to tie part of his mortal body to you.  Who was it?"

Camellia gave a languid shrug, and answered.  Her lips formed the name, but again, it only registered as noise to Nefen.  It made no sense.  Still, she felt like she'd gained something, and it was important.  Important enough that it might come back to her, if the need ever arose.

"Anyway, that's how he referred to it," the woman was going on.  "I never knew much about it.  Avelim was very private, about his discipline, his rituals, and his god.  And still, he gave it all up.  For me."

"What an idiot," Nefen commented.

"Yeah," Camellia agreed, a smirk on her features.  "Idiot."

"It looks like whatever agreement he had is still in place, if my spell worked," Nefen observed.  "But still, you should be careful.  Deals with higher powers, god or devil or otherwise, are always bigger than we mortals can predict.  Whether you know the details or not, you're going to have to make good on what he wants from you in the end.  Are you okay with that?"

Camellia snickered.  "What's that mean, coming from a priestess?"

"It means I know," Nefen sighed, feeling tired, and not only because of the magnitude of the spell.  "I know that eventually, you figure out what it is your goddess wants from you, and it's bigger than anything your pathetic mortal husk could ever hope to pull off.  And yet you're determined to do it anyway.  Are you ready for that?"

The tiefling clasped her weird hand in her normal hand, and gave a snort.  "What, are you all old an' shit?  You don't even look thirty."

"What?"

"Don't give me the old lady lecture.  I was raised by my grandparents, so I know exactly how that goes."  She turned away and gave a haughty flick of her tail.  "Who cares what the gods want?  I mean, the paladins do, probably.  Avelim did, to a point.  I'd be dead without 'em, I bet.  But that don't mean I'm not me.  I got this far because of that.  I made it to Sigil and the planes, and I learned I can tussle with the Harmonium and come out on top.  And I know this is a place where adventurers like me are a green to a stinger."

"That's good for you," Nefen said, sincerely.  "You're in the middle of your story.  Hang on to that."

"And what, you're at the end?"  Camellia snorted.  "You said you're here this week.  What're you doing the next?"

"Not really sure."  Nefen took the opportunity to look away and stretch.  "Not important right now.  This week, I'm here in this tree, helping those who come looking for it."

"Uh-huh.  I called it, didn't I?  You're no stay-at-home priestess.  You're an adventurer too, aren't you?  You're in the middle of some dumbass quest.  Something you'd crash a Harmonium fortress for, or get your hand cut off, or somethin' just as stupid."

Nefen laughed.  She couldn't help it.  "Maybe a little."

"So why's it gotta be the end?"  Camellia's features took on a fierce look, like she wasn't talking to Nefen anymore.  "Gods meddle in our shit.  That's what they do.  But that's 'cause they need us, as pathetic and stupid as we are.  We can change anything.  We can change everything.  We hold all the power."

"Says the lady who came here asking the help of a goddess," Nefen pointed out.

"I ain't saying we're perfect," Camellia grumbled.  "I ain't saying sometimes we don't need a hand.  Except... not like... I don't mean like that, exactly."  She flipped her human digits in a dismissive expression of disgust.  "I ain't done.  You ain't done.  Avelim ain't done.  We're alive.  We decide what comes tomorrow.  If that weren't true, the gods would wipe us out and be done with it."

Nefen giggled.  "Is this the sort of thing you say in every temple you go to?" she wondered.  "No wonder you got kicked out."

Camellia bristled.  "The gods had their talons deep into Avelim, and look where it got him," she snarled.  "I won't make the same mistake."

"Right.  You're clearly doing well for yourself, after all."  Nefen inclined her head respectfully.  "On that note, I'll take your offering, if you don't mind."

"Sure."  Camellia counted coins out of her purse, and then dropped them into Nefen's proferred palm.  After she was done, she straightened and brushed her hands over her horns, looking proud.  "Seriously, thank you, priestess of Mielikki.  Nefen.  You helped me when nobody else would.  If the Hardheads come after you, or this place, because of what you did for me..."

"We'll rend them limb from limb," Nefen finished for her.  "They'd be idiots to go after a shrine.  But in case you want in on the fun...?"

"I'm staying at the Drunken Dabus, while I'm in Sigil," Camellia said.  "Me and a couple of my friends.  Ask for me there.  You know where that is?"

"Yeah.  It sounds familiar."  Nefen glanced away, as far as she could see into the darkness.  "If you're leaving now, take care.  The cranium rats..."

"Yeah, yeah.  Like I said, darkness.  Old pals."  Camellia winked.  "I gotta get back.  My friends'll be worried about me.  But thank you.  Seriously.  I ain't much for gods, but when the day comes I go down cursing... well, Mielikki's name won't be on my lips."

"Gee, thanks," Nefen said dryly.  "What about Avelim?"

"Huh?"

"What would he have to say about Mielikki?"

Camellia rolled her eyes.  She put one hand on her hip, and glanced away.  "He'd probably fold his hands together, and bow, and say something like, 'Thank you for your aid in this time of need, benevolent goddess of nature.'"

"Oh.  Okay."  Nefen smiled, folded her hands together, and bowed.  "Bye, Camellia."

The tiefling fidgeted, and flipped her wrist indignantly.  "Bye," she grunted.  Then she reached out into the darkness, and she was gone.

Nefen let her go.  She watched in the direction she could imagine the woman was moving, but she couldn't see anything.  She just took in the quiet, and the night, and the sense that something had changed.

That was meaningless, of course.  Things were always changing.  That was the way of nature.

She smiled to herself as she climbed her way back up into the tree.  If that was true, maybe she didn't need to go away.  Maybe she still had a place here.  Maybe a wayward, self-important tiefling could be right.  And maybe this didn't have to be the end.

Nefen nestled comfortably back into her branch as she drifted off to sleep.  Real sleep, this time, the kind with dreams.  And, for the first time in the longest time, she dreamed of what came after all of this.

She dreamed of her forest.