Il Terem - Part 1.4: Verdure
Ahead, a soft breeze gently whispered. It would have been silent, if not for the many leaves and branches it blew through. Tall blades of grass rose up to meet her, tickling her ankles and clinging to her boot laces. The hard floor of the Underdeep gave way to soft, fertile soil. Her footsteps crunched softly on stems and grasses flattened by many feet before her, her own likely amongst them. Though she had been to the Verdure before, it felt like a brand new area each time. Just as the skak in the Deeps grew fast, so did everything here.
A stream cut through the path, small enough to step over. She knew she hadn’t seen one this close to the entrance before, so it must be new, she supposed. Pink motes floated past on the water and the breeze. Clusters of fragile flora grew on the stream’s bank, and Parnea’s foot came down on one, sending up a scattering of the motes along with a sweet, spicy smell. Parnea took a deep, appreciative breath. “Scholda,” she sighed.
As she continued, ducking under hanging moss, the path ahead branched. One path continued with the flowing stream, while another sloped upward, leaving the water behind. In the interest of keeping her feet dry, Parnea opted for the latter. Hopping over the stream, she took the incline with ease, kicking up more of the fragrant pink motes. To her sides were walls of moss, the latest layer in an ever-growing mass of organic matter. As the day progressed, it too would shrivel and wilt and dry, providing foundation for the next layer of growth. The path she was on now, the sides too straight to be naturally formed, was likely cut out of the thick growth. THis was often done to harvest the densely packed moss, which could be broken down and reformed into useful materials. The clothing she wore was spun from mossweave likely harvested in a similar way.
Reaching the top of the hill, Parnea was able to get a better view of her surroundings. The mist was more present higher up, but she could see well enough. Where the Underdeeps were low-ceilinged and narrow, the Verdure was open and vast. She imagined one could climb the towering stacks of moss and stone that reached upward, somehow higher than the Underdeeps tunnels yet separate from them. She reckoned the tunnels must wrap around this place somehow, but the how and where of it was beyond her understanding. What she did understand, however, was how to get from one area to the other. That she had done more times than she could count.
Several other hilltops were visible in the fog, and she made a quick visual check of which ones sat further inward from where she had entered. The gaps between varied, and the more narrow ones she could jump with ease. Picking out a route, she hopped over the path she had just left, and jogged briskly towards the next gap. More of the scholda bloomed here, and it dusted up in her wake, marking her passing in pink. She hopped over the gap, little more than a moss-lined ditch, and increased her speed before jumping, clearing the next one with ease as well. The hill she was on was larger than the others, and she was able to pick up a good amount of speed before reaching the next break. And a good thing, as this gap was deceptively wide, a fact Parnea realized too late to alter her course. She made her legs pump harder at the last moment, and launched across the gap, catching sight of deep water rushing below. Then the toe of her boot touched down, and there was a moment of numb panic as she felt herself about to tip backwards. Then she swung her arms, spinning her upper body around and carrying the rest of her into a stumbling retreat from the edge. When she came to a stop, she rested her hands on her knees and sucked in deep breaths of air.
“Lucky,” she gasped. “So lucky.” It wasn’t the first close call she had had down here. Bones and blood, she had seen worse happen to girls more cautious than her. Silently, she berated herself. There was nobody else down here. If she fell and cracked her head, that would be the end of her early excursions, of everything most likely. She shook her head, blinking away the heat that threatened to spill from her eyes. “I’m fine. I’m alive and I’m fine.” She rubbed at her eyes with one hand, and took a look at her surroundings. The only sign of her passing was the scrape of a boot print at the edge she had just stepped away from. In almost all the other directions, the hilltop seemed to extend uninterrupted, gently rising and falling places. Taking a deep breath, she headed for the nearest rise, hoping a higher vantage would help her get her bearings. As she ascended, she could hear the sound of gently splashing water which grew louder as she climbed. Reaching the top, she could see there was a sheer drop on the other side, leading to a large grove filled with several pools of deep water canopied by trees. The pools were fed by several rushing streams, including, she surmised, the one she had almost fallen into.
“Guess I was coming here one way or another,” she said to herself. Then, figuring this was as good a place as any, she climbed over the edge and gently descended toward the edge of the nearest pool. This one was quite shallow, and she could see a large mossy outcropping topped with a lively little tree in its center. She immediately thought it was perfect, and looked around for a means to access it. A few large stones peeked out of the water between the shore and her target, and after some mental preparation she began hopping carefully from one to the other. In no time at all she had reached her destination, and took a seat triumphantly at the base of the little tree. She simply sat for a moment, allowing herself to release the tension of the last few moments. It had been a particularly eventful day so far, compared to most, though none of it unusual by itself. She only hoped the rest of the day would go according to expectation.
At the thought of expectations, her stomach gave a quiet grumble, and she remembered the whole point of coming here. Reaching inside her vest, she pulled out the carefully wrapped little parcel she had secreted away. The thick leaf wrapping kept the heat of her body from reaching the contents, and as she unwrapped it she could feel that it was still pleasantly cool. Peeling away the final layer, she revealed a rectangular pastry filled with soft, sweet filling and crunchy leaves. A gentle smell of spice, similar to the scholda that still lingered on on her clothes, greeted her. She closed her eyes, and simply let her senses take in everything. The smell of the pastry intermingled with the thick, cool air; the softness of the moss beneath her, the tree at her back; the gentle murmur of water and the whisper of leaves. This was what she looked forward to, but rarely found. A moment of peace, to simply enjoy the world without worry.
Parnea felt she could live like this forever, if she had a choice.
Setting the leaf wrapping aside, she took the pastry in hand and was prepared to take a bite when an unexpected sound caught her attention. To her left, there was the sound of splashing water, different from the running streams. She sat still, hoping it was just a trick of the water, but no, there it was again. Then, the snapping of a branch, and a sound that could only be a voice, and Parnea knew she was not alone.