The Dread Lord of Autumn surveys his domain, walking slowly through the corridors of the boarding house, turning things over in his mind.

He has everything he wanted. Position, respect - carving a small kingdom from nothing. Even little social challenges to keep his intellect sharp, though nothing quite so tough as he would quite like. So now he had returned to the paths where so many Autumns had walked before. Where so many of a Changeling's powers come from. He kept looking into the face of it, like a golden glow.

The power of the Wyrd.

Rhodes had slowly been strengthening his own Wyrd. He wasn't there yet, but already it was wringing changes in him. His floral side was becoming more dominant, more persistant. His dreams had become more vivid, and more often. He was seeing more of the past - his past - trapped in the invisible chains of his keeper. Names, faces, flashes of events.... the growing fear of the Garden.

He knew now. To escape The Eternal Garden Rhodes had to shut off his feelings. Bury them lest they be used against him. Because they were, and had been. True Servants of.... her...

Ophelia.

Her minions. Humans that had given themselves over fully. Flowering, Treasured, Dancers.... all to seduce him and flatter his ego, luring him back to the cage. Pleasures of the mind and flesh. It had worked too, for a long, long time. More that he was willing to admit to himself.

Rhodes sighed, and looked out over Funderland.

For so long, Rhodes mused, he had buried his emotions, deep down where they would not be scarred and used against him. All fawning over him with false adoration when all they wanted was a shred of his Mistress’s attention…

Just like me.

But he, Rhodes, had been better than them. Seen through to the truth that she never cared, about any of them. Torn himself away from paradise and vowed to make them pay for their falsehood and lies. And yet he could reel them off better than anyone. A smile here, a touch there, a kind word whispered, and they would dance. All so easy. But he was better. He did it to help the Changelings that needed it. Confidence, inspiration, hope…. All lies, dressed up to let them experience a second of comfort. And Fear, Fear to remind them that that these things were lies, and their Keepers could come back any time, any place, to find them.


And suddenly something – someone - was making him feel again. Not a shadow, or an act, or a fake smile. Somewhere, under the brambles and thorns that had grown around his beating heart, someone had slipped right to his center and made him feel again. Not pain, or anger. It has started in something as simple as lust, and though he knew that was clearly a factor, this was beyond that. No, this was something warm. Something caring, honest, that the Flowering wasn’t quite sure how to describe. Trust? Love? He had felt so little of either, for so long.

The sun was coming up. The Flowering hadn't slept yet. The dreams of the Garden were more frequent, but as he sighed contentedly and made his way back into his room, he knew tonight he would sleep soundly.

Tonight, he would be dreaming of sapphires.