Morning light filtered gently through the tall windows of the academy, casting soft beams across the stone floors.
Lira awoke feeling rested, her mind already drifting to the rare plants waiting in the greenhouses.
After a quick wash and a simple breakfast, she made her way to the first greenhouse, where the academy's herbalist, Thara, often spent her early hours tending to the common herbs and medicines.
Lira found Thara carefully examining a cluster of lavender, her hands gentle and sure. "Good morning, Thara," Lira called softly.
Thara looked up, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Morning, Lira. You look bright today."
"I wanted to show you the plants Old Wise Merlin sent. They're in the second greenhouse, rare and unique—everything arrived safely. Could you come with me to take a look?"
Thara nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Of course. Let's see what new wonders we have."
Together, they stepped out into the crisp morning air, Fluffy trotting happily at their heels. The path to the second greenhouse wound through the gardens, alive with the scent of blooming flowers and fresh earth.
As they approached the tall glass structure, the sun caught the dew on the leaves, making the plants inside shimmer like jewels.
Lira's heart swelled with excitement. "I think you'll like these."
Thara's eyes twinkled with curiosity as the doors opened, and the two women stepped inside.
The moment they stepped into the second greenhouse, a wave of warm, fragrant air wrapped around them. Sunlight filtered through the arched glass panes, casting shimmering patterns over rows of unusual, vibrant flora. Some of the plants glowed faintly; others pulsed with slow rhythm, as though breathing.
Thara came to a full stop just a few steps in. Her eyes widened as she slowly turned to take it all in. "By the roots of Elandor…" she whispered. "Is that a Flameleaf Vine? And… no, that can't be—Lira, is that a Skyweaver Orchid?"
Lira nodded, walking beside her. "Yes. Master Therin helped me register them under my name. They're from Merlin's collection. He said they were rare even among collectors."
Thara crouched near a low, spiral-stemmed plant with silvery spots that moved across its surface like drifting stars. "I've only seen this in books," she murmured, brushing her fingers just above the leaves. "I thought most of these were extinct, or too temperamental to transport. Look at the root stabilizers—they're flawless."
"They arrived in better condition than I expected," Lira said, smiling. "I was worried they wouldn't make the trip."
"You did more than bring them here." Thara rose to her feet and looked at Lira with bright, astonished eyes. "You brought knowledge, potential medicine, maybe even forgotten magic. This is a treasure trove, Lira."
Lira's cheeks warmed at the praise. "I thought they'd be useful… or at least, inspiring."
"They're both," Thara said, reaching out to gently tilt a glowing petal. "The Skyweaver can strengthen memory if steeped in moonwater. This one here"—she pointed to a plant with curling golden leaves—"was once used in spells of renewal. We haven't had access to this sort of flora in decades."
Lira followed her from plant to plant, listening intently as Thara explained the uses, the care required, and the ancient lore behind each one. Her excitement was contagious, filling the greenhouse with a quiet reverence, as if the plants themselves were aware they were being understood and appreciated.
At one point, Thara turned and placed a hand on Lira's shoulder. "This changes things. For you, and for the Academy. We'll need to create a special record and care schedule. I'd be honored to help."
"I'd love that," Lira said, voice soft with gratitude. "Thank you, Thara."
They stood together for a moment, surrounded by the rarest of blooms, sunlight catching on the leaves like glass.
As Thara's footsteps faded beyond the greenhouse doors, Lira stood quietly among the vibrant colors and soft glows of her new plants. The air was rich with unfamiliar scents—cool earth, sweet nectar, and something faintly metallic, like magic in bloom.
A sudden flicker of movement caught her eye.
Murell zipped into view, her dragonfly wings humming softly. She hovered at Lira's shoulder with her arms crossed, eyes narrowed as she scanned the rows of flora.
"Hmph," she said, half to herself. "They're not all bad. The Embercaps are still sulking, but the Celestial Bloom finally stopped trying to bite the moss."
Lira gave a soft laugh. "Glad to hear it."
But Murell wasn't finished. Her wings gave a sharp buzz, and her tone dropped into something more curious, almost reverent. "With all these roots settling in… I feel a stirring."
Lira turned to her, brows raised. "A stirring?"
Murell's gaze sharpened. "Another fairy. Not born yet. Sleeping… inside one of the blooms."
Lira's eyes widened, her breath catching.
"I can feel her," Murell went on, nose twitching. "Faint, but there. And very old magic. Come."
Without waiting, she darted through the air and wove a path toward one of the tall tables. Lira followed quickly, weaving between pots and glowing petals until they stopped at the base of the Skyweaver Orchid. Its leaves shimmered like spun silver, and nestled among them was a single bloom, round and tightly closed, with threads of gold running through its deep blue surface.
"There," Murell whispered, hovering just above it. "This one. She sleeps in there."
Lira leaned closer. The bloom pulsed faintly—barely—but enough that Lira could feel a subtle warmth beneath her fingertips as she hovered her hand near it.
"She's not ready yet," Murell murmured. "But soon. And when she comes, you'll have to listen. This one won't be as patient as I am."
Lira blinked at her, half-smiling. "You think you're patient?"
Murell rolled her eyes and flitted upward in a graceful loop. "Compared to her? Very."
They both turned their eyes back to the bloom, the greenhouse briefly quiet except for the rustling of leaves and the soft hum of unseen magic in the air.
Lira's heart beat steadily, filled with awe. Another fairy. Another mystery unfolding among her garden.
Thara soon returned with confident steps, her usual calm replaced with a spark of urgency and purpose. Behind her, Grandmaster Elion followed, hands clasped behind his back, his long robes flowing like water across the stone path. The moment his gaze fell upon the rare plants thriving within the second greenhouse, something softened in his expression—a mixture of surprise, respect, and satisfaction.
He moved slowly, observing each pot and bloom with reverence. Thara guided him briefly through her list, but the plants spoke for themselves. Their glow, scent, and subtle movements carried stories of faraway soil and ancient power.
Elion paused before the Skyweaver Orchid, his silver brows lifting slightly. "A great choice you've made," he said, turning to Lira with measured words and a voice that held weight. "This plant will provide much for everyone—students, scholars, and the land itself."
He stepped closer, his tone now steady and warm. "I give my permission for your special case of learning. For centuries, we haven't seen an earth elementarist with skills like yours. We must support your path."
Lira's breath caught for a moment, her fingers gently brushing the edge of a nearby leaf.
"As I told you when we first met," he continued, "I shall provide what you need. I will speak to the other teachers myself. You'll be excused from classes that do not serve your growth. Instead, your time will be shaped around your true potential."
He looked to Thara and nodded with approval, then back to Lira. "You will still receive the written materials for all subjects—read them at your own pace. At the year's end, you will take the tests like the others. But your path must be different."
Thara smiled quietly beside him, the look of a mentor proud to finally see someone break the mold.
Lira bowed her head, overwhelmed but grateful. "Thank you, Grandmaster. I won't let you down."
"I know you won't," he said simply, then turned to study the bloom again. "Growth comes not from confinement, but from knowing where to root deeply and where to reach."
When Grandmaster Elion and Thara took their leave, still deep in quiet discussion about the rare plants, Lira stood alone for a moment in the greenhouse. A soft breeze rustled the leaves, but her thoughts drifted elsewhere. She hadn't seen Maelin in what felt like weeks—ever since the trials and long days with Therin and the competition. A warmth stirred in her chest. I should find her.
"Come on, Fluffy," she murmured. The little creature gave a small chirp and padded at her heels as they left the greenhouse.
As they made their way toward the main building, sunlight shifting through the tall windows, a familiar, sharp voice cut through the air.
"Well, well," said Dominica, leaning against a stone archway with her arms crossed. "Back from lazing around, are you? I doubt you'll even finish the year at this rate, skipping classes like a leaf in the wind."
Her eyes narrowed when they dropped to Fluffy. "And what is that rag on legs supposed to be? Some kind of rat you found in the compost?"
Before Lira could respond, Fluffy let out a deep, irritated hiss, fur puffed into a bristling cloud of indignation. Dominica jumped back with a squeak.
"See?! Wild creature! You've brought danger into the school!"
Lira didn't flinch. She simply met Dominica's glare with steady calm. "None of your business," she said coolly, walking past without a second glance. Fluffy strutted behind her, tail high and puffed like a parade banner.
Dominica opened her mouth to snap back—but whatever words she had vanished, caught by shock and silence.
Lira continued down the corridor, weaving through groups of students and the soft hum of academy life, until she caught a glimpse of red copper-braided hair by the Forge room. Her heart lifted. "Maelin!"
Maelin turned, eyes widening in disbelief. "Lira?!"
They ran to each other and hugged tightly, joy and relief radiating from both.
When Maelin looked down, her gaze lit up. "Ooh! And who is this cutie?"
She crouched without hesitation and reached out to Fluffy, gently scratching behind his ears. Lira's breath caught, watching closely. Would Fluffy allow it?
To her surprise, Fluffy gave a pleased snort and leaned into the touch.
"He likes you," Lira said, half in awe. "He hissed at Dominica earlier."
"Smart little thing," Maelin grinned, rubbing his head again. "Good judge of character."
As they walked together, Lira told her everything—about the competition, the praise, the rare plants, even the permission from the Grandmaster.
Maelin listened with wide eyes and growing excitement. "Lira… that's amazing! You really did it."
Soon they arrived at the second greenhouse. As Lira opened the doors and led Maelin inside, the warm scent of soil and magic wrapped around them. The rare plants glimmered in morning light, each one humming with quiet life.
Maelin walked slowly between the rows, mouth parted in wonder. "These are like nothing I've ever seen… Lira, this is incredible."
Lira smiled, her heart full.