The vines were bare, stripped of their succulent fruit and turning themselves over to the oncoming cold weather. The grapes that had grown on them were now fermenting in barrels or already in bottles and Nayru could have forgotten the vineyard but it was there she found herself once the night before finally dispelled itself. Having woken in the field, alone and with a pulsating head, Nayru tried to think back over the Samhain festivities. The earliest parts of the night came clear to her, arriving with Pripyat and greeting the guests one by one. Drinking turned to dancing turned to other activities and as Nayru moved at a slow and steady pace back to the vineyards she found that she couldn't quite recall what had come next. There was nothing, a lingering blankness that was quite disconcerting. Surely there had to be some event between the dancing to awaking alone in an empty field but Nayru could not pinpoint or even guess at what had transpired.
As she moved among the vines she let thin fingers run over them gently. St. Pepin's she could clearly recall, the falling down buildings, the rich sweet soil. Dahlian soil. Ichikan soil was rich too, perhaps richer in Dahlia Valley than Flander's Field had ever been, but somehow in the wake of lost memories, the far off recollections of her winery seemed sweeter. More tangible than the dirt she stepped upon now. Drawing water from the well Nayru drank greedily, finding that water had never been more refreshing than it was just then, and shakily she slumped beside the stone structure, letting her thoughts trail where they might. She thought of her and Siku at St. Pepins, Siku who had returned to Saul and who probably slept next to him this very moment. Dimly she thought of Gideon, who surely slept alone or at least she hoped and she chased those images away with more memories. Nereid came to her, and Harlowe, and Larkspur and even Conor's face came from where she had buried it. She drown them all with more water and closed her eyes, willing away memories that she wished would stop crowding out her mind she that she remember only hours before. She found this to be a hopeless task.
The call that came out of her memories seemed so real that crimson eyes snapped open, as if to search for the caller. Saluce was gone, she recalled. He had left, only a note to explain why, and like the others who would not move forward with her, she had left him behind. And yet, even with eyes open the call persisted and hurriedly she rose to her feet—despite the resistance of her pounding head and worn out body. Swiftly the small lady followed the call, not quite believing that the caller would materialize before her despite the persistence of the haunting song. And yet, as she neared the border now stripped of its floral lining the hulking mass was there. All at once her heart quickened, though the warrior was still too well trained and it was without effort that her face, posture and voice came off only as calm and collected, as if she had indeed been expecting him all along.
"Saluce. So it is you. I wondered." And the two toned lady held back, hovering on the other side of the border, her rubbery legs supporting her body just barely although she did not allow a muscle to tremble or tremor and give away any indication of anything other than near silent strength.