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Chapter 105 - Season 2. Chapter 12: Patchouli arrival

Chapter: Patchouli's Arrival — The Red Thread

The midday heat shimmered across the clearing like warped glass as the Lux Star burned through the sky. The Dwarven mists had finally settled across the treetops, leaving behind a dreamy veil over the newly forming camp. Fires crackled softly, tents were still being pitched, and the noise of hundreds of footsteps and chattering voices echoed between the trees.

That was when Patchouli arrived.

She walked with a presence—unhurried, graceful, unreadable. Her long lavender-purple hair rippled down her back like river silk, and her sharp violet eyes scanned the area with detached interest. Her cloak of dull emerald fluttered gently in the wind, worn above a stitched indigo robe patterned with old ruins and leaf veins.

A small identification crystal hovered near her shoulder, blinking green.

> Patchouli

Class: Unknown

Rank: Low Green Rank

Alignment: Wanderer, Unaffiliated

Status: Observer

Affinity: Botanical Arcana / Field Reading

She stopped just before the edge of the red team's tent cluster. Several of the red cards had gathered in a rough formation around a young woman shouting through a cone-shaped amplification rune, trying to sort out who was assigned to sanitation duty and who was on guard rotation.

Patchouli tilted her head. Her voice was calm but firm as she addressed the group closest to her.

> "Excuse me," she said, her tone carrying with gentle authority. "I'm here to observe the initiative started by someone named... Riven?"

A teenage demi-human boy with red stripes under his eyes turned, slightly startled.

> "Uh—y-yeah! That's the Travelers Project thing. Riven's the one who made it."

Patchouli nodded slowly.

> "And what is it, exactly, that you're... doing?"

The boy blinked and looked at the others around him. They were mostly young—no older than twenty. Ragged clothing, worn gear, but eager eyes.

> "We're, uh, trying to build up... a new future? We're part of the red team—scouts, field ops, and social fronts, I think. I'm still not sure, ma'am. We just got cards and followed orders."

Another red-carded recruit, a girl with short auburn hair, added in a small voice,

> "Some of us were picked up from outskirts, near the work slums. I didn't have anywhere else to go."

Patchouli blinked once—slowly.

Her gaze scanned the tents again. The lack of structure. The mess of tasks. The energy was raw and directionless. Still, there was a clear thread here—hope, even if tangled.

She crossed her arms.

> "So this is Riven's project... turning the forgotten into soldiers. Or perhaps something... freer?"

A nearby boy holding a half-pitched tent pole spoke up.

> "Not soldiers. Travelers. That's what they told us. Not forced to fight... but to survive. Together."

Patchouli raised an eyebrow. That word again. Traveler. It had started popping up in forums, whispers, underground codework. And now it was physical. Breathing. Growing.

She decided to walk deeper into the red sector.

Most of the red team didn't know who she was—only that her badge glowed green, meaning she was ranked higher. Some straightened up instinctively. Others just stared.

When one recruit offered her a roster sheet, Patchouli waved it away.

> "I'm not here to command you," she said with a faint smile. "I'm only here to understand."

She knelt near a small group of red recruits practicing spell ignition with rocks and sticks. One girl's spell fizzled out with a puff of smoke. Patchouli held her hand out.

> "May I?"

The girl nodded.

Patchouli brushed her fingertips across the rock. A thin line of glowing purple script flowed from her hand onto the stone. In moments, the rock began to glow steadily with low warmth.

> "Your focus is strong," she told the girl. "But your control needs to breathe. Don't press. Flow."

The girl stared at her. Then tried again—successfully this time.

Patchouli stood.

Yes. She was curious. Not about the chaos. Not even about Riven's ambitions.

She was curious about the kindling—this spark behind the eyes of the discarded. And how far that spark might travel before it became a flame.

She glanced toward the central tower where Riven was likely still working with Goldie and Garrick.

> "This 'Traveler' project..." she murmured to herself, "...might be worth staying for."

The red team didn't need much. Just guidance. Direction. And perhaps... someone to believe they were worth more than color-coded orders.

Patchouli, the wandering spellscribe of forgotten ruins, might just become their unexpected mentor.

-------

Chapter Twenty-Three: Patchouli in Red – Stirring the Embers

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows between the makeshift tents of the red team's settlement. Riven's central plan had begun to take shape — the four-color divisions, each serving a unique role in the campaign. But while the green and orange teams were steadily progressing under the firm hands of Fern and Oliver, the red team lacked cohesion.

Until Patchouli arrived.

---

Patchouli remained among them longer than anyone expected. Despite her aloof presence and clearly higher rank, she didn't isolate herself or bark orders. She listened. She watched. And when needed, she taught.

A pair of twins were trying to build a basic perimeter rune barrier, but the symbols were reversed. Instead of rejecting danger, it was pulling in insects and heat.

Patchouli crouched between them, sleeves pulled up slightly, and said,

> "This rune is inverted. Here—draw the glyph like the sun rises, not sets."

The younger twin blinked.

> "How do you know all this?"

> "I study what most people ignore," Patchouli replied. "Especially those who've been ignored themselves."

---

By evening, word had spread through the red cluster. "Miss Patchouli" was someone worth learning from. She didn't act like she was better than them, though her calm skill clearly surpassed theirs. Even Riven noticed the sudden uptick in engagement and structure in the red camp.

He watched from the central tower, arms crossed, eyes glowing faintly with analytical overlays. Goldie stood beside him with a tablet, while Garrick was peering through a long lens camera at the training fields.

> "Red team's stabilizing," Goldie noted. "She's got their attention."

Riven hummed in agreement.

> "I didn't ask her to stay. She chose to."

> "You think she's going to help lead?"

> "No," Riven replied simply. "She's not here to lead. She's here to test us."

---

Later that night, Patchouli sat on a crate by the fire pit, legs crossed, writing silently in her worn leather book. A few red card members sat nearby, hesitant but clearly drawn in by her presence.

> "You've seen other campaigns before?" one asked.

> "Yes," Patchouli said without looking up. "Most failed. Because they were built on someone's ego. This one... might be different. The foundation is strange, but the idea is powerful."

> "We don't even know what we're doing next week..."

> "You don't have to," Patchouli said. "That's Riven's job. Yours is to be ready when the call comes."

She finally closed her book and looked at them.

> "Survival isn't about strength. It's about pattern. Memory. And decisions. You'll have to remember why you chose to become a Traveler. That's what will keep you standing when the others fall."

---

As the fire crackled and more of the red team slowly joined her, a quiet reverence settled over the area. For the first time, there was more than just order or instructions — there was meaning.

Patchouli, the wanderer of forgotten glyphs and lost tomes, hadn't come to lead an army.

She had come to awaken a spark.

And it was working.

---

Elsewhere, Riven updated the roster...

A quiet ping echoed in his earpiece.

> Red Team Status: Improving

Leadership: Unofficial (Patchouli)

Morale: Rising

Retention Estimate: 84%

He tapped the edge of his headset and said,

> "Goldie. Adjust projections for red team advancement. Double the artifact training material allocation."

> "Already on it, boss," Goldie replied.

---

Meanwhile, in the green camp, Fern glanced toward the red zone and smiled faintly.

> "Looks like they've found their own druid," she whispered.

Oliver looked up from his notes.

> "Huh?"

Fern shook her head.

> "Nothing. Just glad we're not the only ones who care."

---

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