Thara reached into a pouch at her belt and pulled out two small velvet sachets.
"You both deserve something," she said, handing one to each girl. "Rare dried flowers—Moonshade petals. Good for calming the mind or adding to dream brews. Hard to find, and well-earned."
Lira and Maelin thanked her with wide smiles, then waved goodbye as they left the greenhouse, the warmth of their shared success lingering in the air.
As they stepped out into the cool night, Lira turned to Maelin.
"Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"
Maelin nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."
Back in Lira's room, soft light filled the space. Lira moved gracefully, selecting a handful of dried leaves and blossoms from her small collection and placing them in a simple clay teapot.
The water shimmered faintly as it boiled, and when she poured it into their cups, a faint swirl of gold danced on the surface.
They sat together on the edge of the bed, sipping slowly.
Maelin blinked in surprise after the first sip. "Whoa... I feel like I just finished a nap and a run at the same time. How does this work?"
Lira smiled, a bit shyly.
"I don't really know. It's the same tea if someone else makes it, but... if I brew it, something happens. It just feels right when I do it."
Maelin set her cup down, her eyes sparkling. "You've got real magic in your fingers, Lira. Not just with plants—this is something else."
Lira looked down at her cup, quietly pleased.
Later that afternoon, Lira found herself still thinking about Maelin's words. "Why does it work when I do it?" She gently held the warm cup between her hands, staring into the shimmering liquid. A quiet thought bloomed in her mind — maybe Thara would know something more.
She poured a small vial of the tea into a corked bottle and tucked it carefully into her satchel. With a steady breath, she made her way back to the greenhouse.
Thara was tending to some drying herbs near the open window, the sunlight dancing on her sleeves. When Lira entered, she looked up and smiled.
"I was just thinking of you," Thara said.
"I brought something," Lira replied, and stepped forward. "It's a tea I brewed last night. It helped us feel… stronger, clearer. Maelin said it's never like that when anyone else makes it. I was wondering if you could try it and tell me what you think?"
Thara arched a brow with interest and took the bottle. She poured a small amount into a wooden cup, smelled it, then sipped slowly. For a moment, she closed her eyes.
"Now this," Thara said softly, "is no ordinary tea. It carries your energy in it — like you've woven something gentle but strong into the leaves. I'd say this is a kind of living enchantment."
"Is that… a real thing?" Lira asked.
"Not common," Thara replied. "But real. Some people shape magic through hands, others through stones or flame. It seems yours brews through care — through feeling."
Lira felt her cheeks warm, unsure whether it was from pride or wonder.
"I'd like to study this with you more," Thara continued. "If you're willing."
Lira nodded slowly, heart full. "Yes. I'd like that very much."
Thara set the empty cup down, a thoughtful smile tugging at her lips. "You should come here every day after your regular classes," she said, brushing a strand of dried lavender off the table. "We'll practice more of this together. Brewing is an ancient art — and not everyone can do what you just did."
Lira blinked, surprised. "You mean… I can really train here with you?"
Thara nodded. "Yes. You and I share the same elemental path — and it seems your talent blooms through subtle touch and harmony. When you move into the higher levels, I'll be one of your instructors anyway. But it's clear your gift is… a little different. It's best to nurture that early."
Lira felt a warm rush of excitement in her chest.
"I'll also be sending word to the Grandmaster," Thara added, picking up a quill and parchment from the shelf. "He should be aware of your growth. You're stepping onto a unique path, Lira — and we're here to help guide it."
Lira didn't quite know what to say, so she simply bowed her head in thanks. For the first time in a long time, she felt a sense of direction — and the quiet thrill of being truly seen.
As the sun warmed the greenhouse glass, herbalist Thara gently rolled up a small parchment. She whispered something to the air, and moments later, a silvery bird with transparent wings shimmered into view. It perched briefly on her wrist before lifting the message in its claws and vanishing into the sky like a sunbeam.
Lira watched in awe.
"Message to the Grandmaster," Thara explained with a smile. "He should know what's blooming here… and not just the plants."
Not long after, a soft flutter stirred the air near Lira. Her own bird — a rainbow one, born from her student bond with the academy — landed on her shoulder. Tied to its leg was a reply, sealed with Elion's mark.
She unrolled the paper, heart fluttering.
Lira,
I have heard of your talent from Thara. You may carry the gift of deep-nature affinity, rare and precious. Continue your practice under her care. Also, visit my office soon — I would like to witness your tea work myself.
– Grandmaster Elion
Lira folded the letter with both joy and nerves stirring inside her. "He really wants to see the tea..." she murmured.
Thara nodded proudly. "Of course he does."
Together, they continued walking among the plants, the air thick with herbal scents and soft light. Ivvie, ever present, flitted from blossom to blossom, her wings leaving glimmers behind. Lira listened closely as Thara spoke about which plants loved early morning sun, and which preferred soft mist or music.
In the warm embrace of the greenhouse, Lira followed Thara along the winding paths between rows of vibrant plants. The air hummed softly with the pulse of life — leaves unfurling, petals opening, and the faint buzz of invisible energy.
Thara stopped beside a delicate cluster of silver-leafed herbs. "This one," she said, brushing a hand over the leaves, "is called Moonshade. It's rare to find it outside its mountain home, but it thrives here because of careful tending and a little magic."
Ivvie hovered close, her tiny wings beating a gentle rhythm. "It loves whispers of moonlight," she chimed, her voice like a soft bell.
Lira knelt, reaching out to touch the plant. She could feel a faint warmth pulsing through the leaves, like a heartbeat connected to the moon's glow. "I never knew plants could feel so alive," she whispered.
Thara smiled warmly. "Plants are the memory keepers of the earth. They remember where they came from, and sometimes, they hold secrets."
As they moved deeper into the greenhouse, Thara taught Lira how to sense the elemental nature of each plant — which ones thrived in fire, which in water, earth, or air. Ivvie darted from plant to plant, pointing out tiny cues invisible to most eyes.
They paused near a cluster of tiny blue flowers with petals that shimmered like starlight. "Starblossoms," Thara explained, "can only bloom when sung to. Would you like to try?"
Lira nodded eagerly. Taking a deep breath, she softly sang the melody Thara taught her. The flowers trembled, then slowly opened wider, glowing faintly as if thanking her.
Ivvie giggled, fluttering around Lira's head. "You have a gift, Lira."
The afternoon light softened, casting golden hues through the glass. As they walked back toward the greenhouse entrance, Thara said, "Tomorrow, we'll experiment with brewing new teas from these plants. I want you to feel their spirit fully."
Lira's heart swelled with excitement. Learning felt like a journey she was meant to take — with friends, magic, and endless possibility.
As the sun dipped lower, casting soft shadows through the greenhouse glass, Lira felt a peaceful warmth settle over her. The lessons with Thara and the gentle presence of Ivvie had opened new paths in her heart — paths she was eager to follow.
With a quiet farewell, Lira stepped out through the greenhouse door. The cool evening air greeted her as she walked along the winding path back toward the dormitories. Her steps were light, and a small smile played on her lips.
But as she rounded a corner near the main hall, she spotted Dominica ahead, chatting with a few schoolmates. Lira's heart tightened slightly. Not wanting to draw attention or invite confrontation, she slowed and slipped quietly behind a large pillar, holding her breath until Dominica moved on.
Once the way was clear, Lira exhaled softly and quickened her pace, eager to reach the safety of her room. The day's magic still hummed within her, a gentle reminder that even in shadows, light could find a way.