Aria stared at the faded map across her desk, her fingers tracing the worn edges. The dim light of her desk lamp cast long shadows over the ancient parchment, highlighting the intricate lines and symbols she'd studied a hundred times before. This time had to be different. She had to see something she'd missed. Each mark, each rune seemed to whisper secrets just out of reach.
The clock on the wall ticked softly, reminding her of the hours slipping away. She'd been here since sunset, pouring over every scrap of information she could find about the Veiled Realm, a place most historians dismissed as myth. But she couldn't afford to doubt. Her sister's face flashed in her mind: eyes filled with quiet pain, fingers too weak to hold a cup. Her condition worsened every day, and now she could not move or speak at all. The only communication left was the small, desperate movements of her sister's eyes. Aria's thoughts drifted back to five years ago before Andrea started showing symptoms of her illness. Andrea was a social butterfly, she loved the outdoors, she loved hiking, she loved camping and most of all she loved forests, so it was no wonder at all when she decided to become a wildlife conservationist. But then the first signs of her illness appeared as minor annoyances, a slight clumsiness in her hands that made holding small objects difficult, but they'd laugh it off. Over time, she was given the nickname "Butterfingers". If only they knew, she thought.
Her illness progressed, causing her to be overwhelmingly exhausted. Someone who used to have a boundless amount of energy turned into a flickering candle. The following year, her illness worsened altogether. She began to lose her grip and balance, her speech became slurred and her nerves began to degenerate. Now she was trapped in her own body, in her own mind, fully aware of her surroundings, and her emotions, perceiving everything happening around her but not being able to react. Andrea underwent neurological exams, MRIs and a barrage of questions that seemed to go nowhere. Each visit brought them closer to the truth, but the ambiguity was suffocating. Her sister was running out of time.
She forced the image away, focusing on the legends she'd collected, the ones that spoke of a hidden world, a sanctuary, and, most importantly, a flower. The Selene's Orchid, the texts called it, a flower said to hold healing powers beyond anything known to modern medicine, a miracle that could undo the inevitable.
Aria adjusted the magnifying glass over the delicate sketch, the paper crackling slightly under the pressure. It depicted a forest deep in shadow, with a clearing bathed in moonlight. A solitary flower was marked at the center, petals shining like stars. She knew it was nothing more than an illustration, but the story had become her lifeline—a symbol of hope when science had offered none.
"Just a legend," her colleagues had said when she'd mentioned it, the magical flower, the hidden realm. But she'd seen the reports, and spoken to people who claimed to have seen glimpses of something they couldn't explain. She had followed rumours, old diaries, half-erased maps, and now she was close. She had to be close.
Her phone buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. She hesitated before answering, already knowing who it was.
"Dr Henry?" She responded to the doctor responsible for her sister's care. They had become close over the years, and he became like a father to her.
"You're still at the office, aren't you?" He questioned.
Aria's grip tightened on the phone. "Just wrapping up," she said, trying to inject a note of lightness she didn't feel. "You know me, always chasing one more clue."
Dr Henry's soft laugh was like a sigh, and it made Aria's chest tighten. "Aria." He hesitated "There's something I need to tell you. "An…drea's lungs are failing." He stuttered. "Her entire organs are failing. I think it is time we showed her the mercy of letting her go."
"No." Aria clutched her phone tighter.
"Ar…ia,"
"I said no!" Aria screamed as tears rolled down her face. "I'm this close, I swear I am. I've found the coordinates to the flower. I just need a little more time."
"Aria!" Dr Henry said solemnly. "Time is something your sister does not have left." He sighed again. "Don't stay up too late. You need your rest. I will see you in the when you come to visit." With that he said, he hung up the phone, leaving Aria to stare into the abyss of the empty room. Rest was a luxury she couldn't afford. Not when every day was a countdown.
She pushed a stack of medical journals aside and pulled a leather-bound journal closer, her father's old notebook. He'd been the first to tell her the story, back when she was a child before illness had stolen him away too soon.
In the margins, her father's neat handwriting read, "Legends are born from truths, Aria. Don't let them tell you otherwise."
Her eyes burned, but she blinked away the tears. This wasn't the time for weakness. There were still pages to search for, clues to uncover. She was so close, closer than she'd ever been. The coordinates she'd pieced together pointed to a place no map had ever shown, deep in the northern wilderness, where the moon was said to shine the brightest.
"Just one more chance," she whispered to the empty room. "One more lead."
She grabbed her bag, stuffed it with notebooks, and glanced at the moon through the window. Full and heavy, it seemed to hang low in the sky, as if watching her. A shiver ran down her spine, but she ignored it, already turning to go. If the legends were true, she had to get there before it was too late.