Wyrd Flourishing

[Rhodes]

The cool spring air flowed in the dark of night.

Barefoot, the Dread Lord of the Autumn Court walked slowly out of Edna's and into the grass that surrounds it. He removed his jacket and undid the cuffs of his shirt, exposing the leaves and branches growing out from his wrists.The woody roots that broke through the skin on his feet stretched and sunk into the ground. He could feel the water being drawn ever so slowly into himself.

Though Rhodes had chosen Autumn, to say a Flowering was anything other than benefiting from the turn of seasons would be wrong. He could feel it in his bones - or, at least, he was mostly certain he still had bones.

That had been the secret. Wyrd was power, certainly, but it was also Faerie. It wan't about Court, or choice. It was about embracing the things that has changed them, and aligning more with that power.

Letting it make you stronger.

Accepting the costs of what it needed.

Rhodes stretched out his arms, his branches and leaves stretching out wider.

The pains. The Nightmares. The waking fears. They had all been leading to this moment.

The Wyrd was growing stronger.

His leaves unfurled and the branches grew larger, forcing a pleased gasp from his lips.... before a cry of agony drowned it out. Doubling over his scream pierced the night. Sturdy black thorns broke off fingernail after fingernail. Eyes stretched and rippled. The branches that split out of the skin like tree roots cresting the ground stretched and split more flesh. Bright red flowers grew more vibrant and flourishing.

A rich feminine red-headed form clad in vines, leaning over him, caressing his face. Her shocking green eyes without feeling or pity...

Rhodes dropped to his knees, gasping, clutching his heart. Tears leaked from his eyes, and his nerves went cold.

"Ophilia...."

The Dread Lord collapsed on the ground, passing into fitful dreams. Trapped by his own roots binding him to the ground, watching in Fear as two Venuses fought one another, one red-headed and one gold, both taking time to claw his still-beating heart from his chest.

[Rhodes]

Closing Glimpse.