To glance upon her withered gardens
Is to behold your future written
As the flowers turn to dust.

Deep within the caves of Cairnstone Rest, there once lay a resplendent underground garden tended to by dragons now long gone. As they left one by one, the garden fell into ruin.

But the runes held fast, and magic stirred. No place loved so much would disappear so easily. They searched for a new caretaker (and prisoner).

Tanasha wandered into this inconsequential area and cast one spell. It was enough. The ground closed around her, robbing her of sight and sound but replacing them with something...more.

The earth whispers to her now, and she can feel the pulse-pound of Sornieth's slumbering core.

She can't leave, but why would she? This is where she truly belongs.

She casts spells of growth and light in a tongue she does not know, and croons songs to plants she cannot see, all while existing in perfect, blissful silence.

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