"So there you have it, Aloe. The death of Aaliyah-al-Ydaz and my ascension." Naila finalized her narration with those words.

  "There is a lot more to explain." The druid added.

  "Of course," the cultivator took a sip out of her teacup. "But what you wanted to hear was about the death of my mother, did you not?"

  "I… yes," Aloe groaned.

  "How are you feeling now? Are you satisfied?"

  "There are too many mixed feelings, Naila," the black-skinned woman reached for her own cup and let the familiar ter'nar tea caress her mind. "On the one hand, I hate not being the one to kill her, but on the other… at least it was a solid death. I would not have been satisfied with old age or an assassination, and whilst this does not fill the hole in my heart, it is a… decent patch. I must admit, though, that knowing that a lot of assassins and sultanzade died made my day a bit better. Only a tidbit. It has been too long to matter, either way."

  "So the assassins really set you up?" The bronze-skinned woman mused.

  "Quite," her emerald eyes deflated for a moment before regaining her spark. "If they hadn't everything would have been very different. But I guess I could also have made different choices."

  She knew deep inside her that if she hadn't taunted that young assassin, Tareek, two centuries ago everything would have gone differently. Of course, that was only her guess, and she had no way to know what the assassin would have done in any case. But those were the thoughts that constantly gnawed at her mind and had been doing so for centuries.

  "When you live as long as us, living in the past must be avoided at all costs, Aloe." Naila met her with her shining amber eyes. "We have made and taken too many decisions over our long lives."

  "I guess we have…" There was no day she could have not left the chasm; she actively chose to sabotage herself until it was too late. Until that thing spawned. "One more detail, you mentioned how Aaliyah transformed all her blood into Blood of the Sultanah before dying and how the field bloomed. Did the grass suddenly start growing extraordinarily fast? Like before your eyes fast?"

  "Indeed," the calipha nodded. "Grass sprouted from the corpses and turned the warren battlefield into a floral bed of monumental proportions. And of course, it did not just stop there. It extended all over the Qiraji. But from what I am hearing, you seem to be familiar with the Blood of the Sultanah."

  "The 'Blood of the Sultanah' is just a flowing stance technique."

  "I am aware."

  "And also my innate flowing stance technique."

  "Oh…" Naila smiled. "This is quite an interesting detail. Did it bother you knowing that your innate technique was the same as Aaliyah-al-Ydaz's?"

  "A lot," Aloe added with a wry smile. "It made me dizzy. I think I puked too."

  "Understandable," the Sultanzade nodded.

  As comforting as Naila's understanding was, Aloe's mind lingered in her words. I have known for a long time that blood infusions scale quadratically. Aaliyah had a lot of vitality even during her last stand, and she put it all on her blood, just not a drop, but all her blood and those massive amounts of vitality spread all over the Qiraji… I think I get now why the dryads are called Aloe Aaliyada. The Heartgrowths – and all evolved plants for that matter – carry my vitality, but the soil carries hers.

  "But talking about decisions," Aloe said out of nowhere as she felt her thoughts were taking root too deep and she wouldn't snap out of them if she didn't stop. "I must inquire about the one you are taking by not sharing with me the rest of the story. Or rather, history."

  "Simple, I do not consider our exchange to be equivalent." The calipha said with a smile.

  "You are essentially teaching me history, Naila," Aloe responded with a deadpan.

  "Ah, but a class from a Calipha does not come cheap," she took another sip of her tea. "I am jesting. We both know this is not just a class of history. I have told you secrets and knowledge intertwined within my narration that no one else in Khaffat knows. I am only asking for… equivalence."

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Naila stood up from her sofa and she strolled around the labyrinth of seats that was her office. It was a big room, yet it was more cramped than a pantry. If someone told Aloe that the calipha's office didn't have windows so no one could see what a mess of a room it was, she would believe them. The Sultanzade strolled to a peculiar seat made of wood that held itself with strands of silk.

  "This is a seat from Xá, the other nation found in the new world aside from Tecolata." She explained. "Of course, Tecolata and Xá cannot exactly be called nations in the way we know them. They are more akin to the Loyatan Coalitions of yore. Microstates, cultures, villages, tribes. You know the deal. But they have a concept that I enjoy a lot. Equilibrium. Everything must be balanced. They have their own kind of witch doctors, mystics, or druids that they call alchemists, and the most important axiom of alchemy is none other than equivalent exchange."

  "You could just have said that you wanted me to share more information and spared the history class." Aloe groaned.

  "But where would be the fun on that?" Naila smiled. "Having said so, you have mentioned a lot of your creational capabilities during our talks. I want to hear more about your creations."

  "No," the druid instantly shot down the cultivator. "I have occulted Evolution for centuries, and way before that. I will not share it with you."

  "I am not asking to share your vital art with you." Whilst it was true that Aloe had made a slip with her last speech, it was not a surprise that Naila had guessed beforehand that the way she had been creating plants was through a new – relatively speaking – vital art. "But you have already created many plants that exist out there, many are public already, why not share the rest?"

  "Naila," Aloe looked at the younger woman directly in the eyes. She looked older than her, she had given birth when she had not, but still, she was a handful of years younger. And that was an undeniable truth. "Since before I became the scribe of commoners, I have been hiding my plants because I feared what people would do with them. And now you ask me that I do it? To cause the destruction I feared?"

  "Destruction?" She laughed. "Hear yourself, Aloe. You have seen what your plants have done for this country and Khaffat as a whole. Flourishing Springs have made the Qiraji a lush, verdant forest. Cottonpull has revolutionized travel and architecture. And the Myriad has abolished the night. There have been hiccups like the Thousand Cuts, I will not deny that, but heavens know what utilities remain unexplored in the plants that you have yet to show. So yes, I am asking you here to share them with me. Not because of dreams of destruction, because truth be told, I do not need it. This world is nearly mine. No, I just want the best, not only for Ydaz but for Khaffat."

  Naila had been wielding the charm stance as she spoke, but that mattered not, for her words rang true in Aloe's being. Isn't this what you have always wanted? A part of her mind whispered to her. That part of her, of a young woman that had yet to suffer from the most brutal of rapes and had only discovered the applications of the Blossomflame.

  And no lies had come out of the Sultanzade's mouth. Aloe herself had seen what her plants had done to the world, but most importantly, she had seen the applications that she would have never thought of in a million years. Yes, she had thought of making some sort of flying backpack with the Cottonpull at the beginning even if she discarded the idea for its complexity, but people had managed to dial that concept to eleven and make a whole flying palace. Not satisfied with only that, they made ultra-compact Cottonpull textiles that made any type of construction process easier.

  For better or worse, Naila was right.

  "I…" Making the world place was an ideal so powerful that it moved the void she had for a heart. "…have conditions."

  "Name them," Naila responded amusedly but seriously. Yes, she had never been more serious than now in her life. She was being veritable, there were no hidden agendas, just what she had plainly stated.

  "I will not show you all the plants, only those I either consider innocent or that already have a capacity for good."

  "Seems fair." She nodded.

  "I'm not done," the druid continued. "I will not show them to show first. I want to speak with one of these 'engineers that get things done' that you have mentioned beforehand. And only if that person considers that the plants are safe and usable, you will know of them. And let me tell you, I will know if you have tried to pry information out of them."

  It was a baseless bluff, but Naila didn't know that, and she clearly reacted to the threat with the slightest of twitches on her finger. A simple contraction of her phalange, yet it carried impossible amounts of information.

  "Those terms are… agreeable. But let me have at least one plant in the worst of cases."

  "Fret not, there are a handful of innocent plants. Or innocent… ish. You will behold my capabilities soon. But I am still not done."

  The calipha arched a brow. "Continue."

  "These plants are more valuable than any information you might give me, I already know the secret behind your 'second stance' after all, but there is something else you could show me."

  "And that would be?"

  "Pill-making."

  "Hmm~" The Sultanzade hummed amusedly. "It is true that you would not pass the screening process for the School of Pill Manufacturers, so you would need a letter of introduction to get inside, but that begets a question. Why are you interested in pills? They cannot bring anything to you with your levels of vitality."

  "No, you are wrong. They can bring me something. They can help my disciple progress."

  "Ah, I wish I had a master that cared about myself even an infinitesimal fraction of what you do. I certainly would not trade vital secrets for the sake of a disciple, but I am glad you are not me."

  "So I am." Aloe jested.

  The two mature women shared a smirk, and both let out a chuckle over their tea. Their sets of gemstones shone at each other like a Myriad magnifying the light of the sun.