Record of High Sower Anthos
Record of High Sower Anthos
- Location
- Mantle's Arrival
(Bava Nisos) - Type
- Book
- Interact
- Yes
- Destructible
- No
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Record of High Sower Anthos is a book located in the Mantle's Arrival, Bava Nisos.
Location[edit]
Text[edit]
My beds of spiderwort bloomed the other day, as expected. Hardy flowers, they are. The apple trees in the upper grove are late to bear fruit for the second year in a row, with noticeable yellow burns on the trunk and leaves. There are similar signs of malaise in the gardens and topiary planters in the central district. I have had to uproot and transplant several specimens now. I inquired for answers through the proper forum, but I was summarily rebuffed. "Above my concern," they said. "A low priority." The complete disrespect!
My gardens cannot be the only ones that wilt; I will speak with the others.
I am at a loss; my mind is racing.
I was tending to the lower orchard several evenings ago and was startled by a noise. A kodan and a human barreled through the trees, bloodied and bruised. Behind them was one of ours, their would-be handler. I caught them with a simple elemental spell to trap them partially in the dirt, but not before their pursuer set the trees ablaze with a wall of fire.
The next moments are just...flashes.
I accosted him; he laughed in my face. I could smell the bloodstone residue on him-a prolonged exposure. Not even close to fatal, certainly for our kind, but enough to be intoxicating, impairing I could hear the sobbing of the experiments' captives, half buried, wilting. He reached for them, and my mind went white hot. I had seen captives moved through the city before, by my gardens even. Always at a distance. This...this was too much. Too...intimate, too cruel. They suffered without care, like the plants in my garden, so I did what any gardener would do.! removed the rot and drove my Deldrimor steel spade into his heart. I buried the body when I came to; it was easy enough.
The captives are in my home, washing before I tend to their wounds. What have I done? I am writing from beneath the pines on the rainy shores of Janthir Gravis, watching the kodan and human trek into the morning mist, lantern light fading with each step. I do not know if they will survive, nor do I expect to know.
I did not ask their names—it was not my place. And I did not give them mine, not that they wished to know. I fed and supplied them well enough for a few days as they recovered. The bearkin was most grateful for that. It made them chattier. The human was quiet, haunted. She couldn't look me in the eyes, and...l could not blame her. It was not until I guided them out of the city that I heard her speak, and then only to the other.
I've washed my spade a dozen or times, but the blood stain won't clean. And perhaps...perhaps it shouldn't.
