@prometheanpiero location: Eden notes: flashback to their first meeting
Before Nettelia was the author, and before she was an archdruid, she was just a girl. A woman who took great joy in dancing under the moon in the Eden wilds with Artemis and Eve. Void of any secrets, bathed in an immortal golden light, and content to find the secrets of the ground that were buried beneath her feet. Their architect and divine makers had crafted them with perfection in mind, Nettelia never got sick, but she saw how the children that sprang from her generation could tumble and fall. One root, when pressed and flattened, muddied with clay drawn from the river took the sting away. Wrapped in bark from this tree and dripped with nectar from Epimetheus’ precious, buzzing protectors, helped it close all the more faster. If these things were true then there was bound to be more.
Where the immortal went laughter often followed, engaged with nymphs and fey as they would banter back and forth. One of her favourites of the former lived in the beds nearest Nettelia’s earthen home, from the churning waters she would rise and the two would trade stories. The nymph would talk about worlds far away and Nettelia would jest that someday she would see them for herself. They’d gaggle about some of the others and whisper about the Gods, who favoured themself the most and which was warranted to have such an ego. In the evenings Hypnos would take her to his domain and there Nettelia would dream of all the places she longed to see and invent concoctions to later cook over her flames. A cauldron gifted to her from Hermes, a loom carved by Vulcan himself. Nettelia’s home was a simple, but enchanting place - as all of Eden was.
Alone in her river garden, Nettelia planted some and cultivated others, her hands buried into the earth and the clay at the approach of another. Naturally, Nettelia recognized him but they hadn’t had the opportunity to trade words before. Prometheus wandered into the river and she felt obligated to give him fair warning, “Tread with caution, Prometheus.” Enochian or Elven were the common tongues, she chose the former for the avariel’s wings. “Your brother introduced us to leeches recently, useful creatures, but they’ve a fondness for attaching themselves to exposed flesh and drinking blood.”
