Presence

Brutus turned towards the sea. Xe felt hir muscles untense as the salty breeze washed over hir wool. The scent of dill, parsley, and cilantro, among other herbs, was heavy in the air. A swath of freshness over hir senses. Sprigs of plants brushed hir legs, tousled by the wind.

This was hir favorite place in all of the Pyridekk manor, the herb garden.

Most of the manor was sheltered within the sides of the ravine or carved deep into the ground, but not here. The little slab of greenery was carved into the side of the cliff facing the ocean, just outside the ravine and open to the air. It was only reachable by a rather slippery and narrow staircase.

When Brutus had originally discovered the hidden area, it had long been out of use. The old soil mucky and molded, and much more than herbs crawling out of the cracks of the stones – like a nest of tangled, spidery limbs reaching out to the sea. The few tools xe had found scattered about were half-buried and rusted, completely unusable.

Which made sense. The Pyridekk manor had several gardens already, all of which underground and kept flourishing with magic. There was no point in having an herb garden that someone had actually plant and water manually.

Before the settlement had become the Pyridekk manor, it was supposedly a sprawling fade city. Brutus wondered if the tiny herb garden had been in use then. All those years ago. Xe wondered about all of the creatures that had tread this ground before hir, tended diligently to the soil so that it would sprout with life. Xe wondered if they would like what xe had done to the place.

It had become a little bit of a pet project, renovating the herb garden. A place xe would escape to in-between juggling all of the jobs Renfinus gave hir.

With hir teeth and hooves, xe pulled up weeds. Transported new, arable soil for planting – sometimes roping in a few creatures to help hir. Sanctioned off squares of dirt to plant rosemary, basil, thyme. Brought up polished stones and arranged them in walkable paths. Put a rope railing on that god forsaken staircase (later egging some other creatures into building a much sturdier stone railing with magic). Commissioned a fellow Pyridekk magician to fashion some better tools, expertly crafted hoes, plows, shovels, and rakes of magically-reinforced metals. Carried up a few comfortable chairs and benches because why not. Stole Renfinus’s antique jade-gold windchime (because he surely wouldn’t miss it) and hung it from the ceiling.

It was slow work, especially since xe could only work on it when xe had good days. The days where hir body decided to cooperate with hir and not ache with the simplest of tasks. Still, it was worth it.

Xe didn’t ask hemself what drew hir to it. Why it made hir usually rampant thoughts slow into a hazy calm. Why, whenever xe finished hir duties, xe longed return there and let the scent of plants and salt and soil fill hir lungs. Hear the faint clinking of the wind chime echo against the stone.

It made hir feel lighter. A tentative bloom of warmth settling in hir stomach whenever xe lingered.

And if xe let hir thoughts wander, xe could imagine the leaves of mint hugging hir leg belonged to hir mother’s garden instead. That the chime was the dingy scrap metal thing that hung outside their porch. That the cold stone walls and floors were not stone, but wood and woven rugs.

That hir family was not miles away.

There was an unidentified aching in hir. Like a part of hir body had been scraped hollow but xe was still expected to function without the missing parts. It was funny how the lack of something could feel so painfully present.

Brutus’s ears twitched as she heard a strange noise.

A noise that was distinctly not the chime, nor the wind or ocean. Yet it was definitely coming from that direction. With a muttered incantation she turned on her echolocation, but didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary.

The breeze suddenly picked up, hitting Brutus’s face and causing the chime to go berserk. She frowned, steadying her stance. Shadowy thorns sprouted from her back in preparation, angled to strike.

A raindrop splashed onto her nose. 

It was soon followed by the scent of plum blossom and acrylic paints.

Brutus groaned. 

“Always with the dramatic entrance, marshmallow? Show yourself you little asshole.”

With a giggle, Ame’s sinewy form settled down onto the railing in front of her. His cloudy hair was billowing in the breeze and ghosted over her in a cool vapor.

“I thought you might want some help watering your herbs?” 

As a sprinkle of rain began to sound against the stone, Brutus smiled quietly. It was almost drowned out by the distant crash of the ocean.

She didn’t ever need help watering, the dumb marshmallow knew this.

“hmmm… I don’t know,” she said, face twisting into a grimace, “your rain might poison them. Shouldn’t risk it.” Brutus turned to straighten the chairs and stones that had been displaced by his wind, ignoring Ame as they trailed behind her. Something in her fluttered as she waited for his telltale response – not that she had to wait long.

He scoffed, throwing a paw to his chest. “My rain is the purest most fine rain you could ever procure! Storm spirit rain! I know countless esteemed individuals – the wealthiest of royals – who would pay a fortune just for a measly vial of it.”

“Yeah, idiots.” She said.

They made an undignified noise, then proceeded to drape themself over Brutus – preventing her from straightening anything else up. Or rather, moving at all. They both fell to the ground in a heap, limbs tangled and grinning.

“I come here, out of the good will of my heart,” they wailed, “offer you a priceless service – and this is how you treat me? Your dearest friend? You’re cruel Brutus. Just as cruel and cold as they all say!”

Much opposed to their words, Ame appeared to be coiling and snuggling ever closer around her. Likewise, Brutus rested her head on top of Ame’s hair, making no move to remove them from her.

She merely laughed in response and made herself comfortable. It was soft raspy noise, muffled by Ame’s hair.

A quiet settled over them both. 

The gentle roar of the ocean wased in and out.

The chime tickled her ears. 

Ame nuzzled into her neck. “It’s pretty here.” They said.

She hummed.

A languid, easy heat was seeping into her bones, the hollow ache in her chest lessening with it. She melted into Ame’s touch.

Well, not all of her family were far away.