Vaelithorien's POV
A gentle rustling stirred the air, soft as a whisper, as slender vines brushed against my cheek. I groaned, half-asleep, and lazily swatted them away. The tendrils recoiled, only to return with more insistence, brushing through my hair like an affectionate pet seeking attention.
"Mm… not yet," I mumbled, turning over, cocooning myself deeper into my blankets.
The vines hesitated, as if exchanging silent glances, before attempting again—this time curling around my wrists and nudging me lightly. Again, I brushed them away, murmuring a half-hearted protest.
Then, with an almost mischievous resolve, the plants abandoned their gentler approach. A firm grip wrapped around my ankle, and in one swift motion, I was yanked from my bed. My feet barely touched the floor before the vines caught me, steadying me upright as if proud of their accomplishment.
I blinked, finally awake, before letting out a quiet chuckle. "Alright, alright, you win," I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Good morning to you too." The vines gave a satisfied rustle before retreating.
With my morning ritual of reluctant awakening complete, I made my way downstairs. The scent of dried lavender and fresh herbs lingered in the air as I prepared a simple breakfast. Warm tea, honeyed bread, and fruit from the garden. A quiet moment before the day began.
After washing up and changing into fresh robes, I fastened my apron and pulled my long hair back, ready to greet the true heart of my home.
And there it stood—the door.
Unlike any ordinary entryway, this one pulsed with life, its wooden frame entwined with silver-threaded ivy that shimmered faintly in the morning light. Delicate carvings of blooming flowers and twisting roots adorned its surface, shifting ever so slightly as though breathing with the rhythm of nature itself. It was not merely a door—it was a threshold, a guardian, the boundary between the mundane and the sacred.
I placed my hand against the cool wood, feeling the faint thrum of magic beneath my fingertips. Then, with a knowing smile, I pushed it open.
"Time to wake the blooms."
As the door swung wide, the world beyond unfolded before me—a realm bathed in soft morning mist, where luminescent petals quivered with anticipation and vines stretched toward the light. My Moonveil Sanctuary.
And the day had only just begun.
I picked up my hat and gloves, along with my tools and slowly picked the flowers I will be selling today. As I looked around and see how my flowers are doing, I feel like a proud father watching my children grow. I walked closer to my favorite flower here in the garden and checked how they are doing. My personal favorite, the Eclipsara Blossom.
The Eclipsara Blossom is no ordinary flower. It glows when the world sleeps, its silver veins pulsing like a heart beating in the dark. Its scent? Never the same—one moment, the scent of rain-kissed earth; the next, a fleeting memory just out of reach. Elven lore calls them 'Veiled Stars of the Forgotten Garden,' said to bloom only for those truly devoted. Poetic nonsense, if you ask me. But then again; they've never bloomed for anyone else.
That is why they are my babies.
I opened my palm, letting a stream of golden particles drift into the waiting petals. The warmth of my own magic brushed against my skin, light as a feather's touch, as it seeped into the flowers. They swayed in response, their colors deepening, petals glowing with newfound vibrance—though they would never wither, not unless I did.
"That should be enough," I murmured, brushing my fingers over their delicate blooms before rising to my feet. Basket in hand, I moved to the next patch, plucking each flower with slow, careful precision, ensuring they remained untouched by harm.
After tending to my garden, I head straight to my shop up front and opened it. Faewild Glade.
As I left the shop open and waited for customers, I cast a spell to conceal my long, tapering ears—the delicate hallmark of my lineage. Once hidden, I turned my attention to the flowers, carefully arranging them into a bouquet.
With January coming to an end, the season of love is fast approaching. February always brings a rush of customers, but I don't mind. If anything, it means my babies will soon be spreading love and filling the air with their sweet aroma!
I opened my palms once more, casting a spell to ensure they remained as vibrant as ever.
""Auréveil floralis," I murmured, letting my magic seep into the petals. Floral awakening.
Now let's get to work.
While arranging the flowers and making bouquets, I heard the chime from my door indicating a customer had entered.
"Welcome to Faewild Glade—where flowers speak louder than words. Tell me who it's for, and I'll make sure they say the right thing." I greeted with my warmest smile. I see a young high school girl looking around anxiously around my shops. I looked deep into her mind to know what she wants.
I let my gaze settle on her, the faint shimmer of her aura revealing the emotions woven into her visit. A quiet longing, a touch of admiration—ah, I see. The senior she admires has a birthday this weekend, and she wants to give her something special.
A knowing smile curved my lips as I stepped closer, already considering the perfect bloom for such feelings.
"Looking for something?" I asked warmly.
She jumped in shock, eyes wide, as I suddenly appeared behind her while she was admiring the flowers on display. Ah—I must have unconsciously triggered my shifting spell again, the magic allowing me to move with unnatural swiftness.
"Oh, uhmm, i-it's nothing. I was just looking around." She exclaimed nervously and was about to leave quickly when I called out a name.
"Katelyn Rose." I said outloud which stopped her in her place. "She's a lovely girl. She seems nice too. Her birthday is coming up, why don't you try giving her flowers instead. All girls love flowers don't they?" I said while walking back to the counter while she looked at me with a mix of shocked and confused look.
"H-how did you know?" I just looked at her and smiled. I picked up stems of Honeywhisper clover and Moonveil blossoms. I grabbed a wrapper and placed them all together, making a bouquet.
Honeywhisper Clover—a soft golden clover with heart-shaped leaves and tiny white blooms. Those who hold it find their words laced with sweetness, granting even the shyest hearts the courage to confess their love boldly.
Then, there are the Moonveil Blossoms—delicate clusters of luminescent white and pale blue flowers. Their silken petals glow softly under the moonlight, like a veil of mist woven with scattered stardust. Their slender and silver stems sway at the gentlest touch, as if whispering secrets to the wind. These flowers are also known as the 'Flowers of the Unheard,' believed to carry feelings left unspoken. When gifted, their petals quiver ever so slightly, releasing a faint, melodic hum—an echo of the sender's emotions lingering in the bloom.
I tied the flowers with a pink ribbon and handed them to the customer. She was conflicted but slowly grabbed the bouquet.
"What type of flower is this? I've never seen anything like this before." She asked while being mesmerized by the beauty of the flowers.
"Let's just say, they're out of this world." I answered. I then grab the tablet and calculated the prices.
"That would be ℓ16 please."
"16? That's so cheap." She exclaimed in great shock.
"I'm just glad you like my flowers. Besides, love doesn't have to be too expensive." I chuckled as I saw her blush and frantically looked for her money. She gave me ℓ20, and was about to give her change when she stopped me.
"Keep the change. I'll come back again soon." She happily asked looking back into the bouquet in her hand. I just smiled at her. She won't remember where anyways.
She happily walked out of the shop and opened the door, As she stepped through the door, a shimmer of blue particles descended over her. From inside, I watched as she blinked, rubbing her eyes in brief confusion before continuing on her way—unaware that the memory of this place was already fading. I sighed with satisfaction and continued to tend to the flowers in the shop.
Various customers keep coming here slowly with various reasons, mostly for love, some asking for an apology and there are some that wanted to give flowers to their loved ones. I'm glad that I was able to help them in some ways. If words and actions fail, let my flowers speak for them.
"Hello there, Vael." An old woman's voice said as the doors opened. I turned around and saw the human with the purest heart of all, and full of love. Ms. Christene Faye.
"Pleasure to see you again, Miss Christene." I greeted her warmly and guided her to the small pavilion in my 'normal' garden. I brewed some tea and grabbed some snacks from the garden and sat across from her.
"It's been a while, Lady Christene. How have you been? It's been a while since we last saw each other." I greeted her first while pouring her a cup of tea.
"Thank you dear. I've been doing well, Vael. I would like to apologize for not visiting you often. You know how we humans are when we get old, we get too tired for adventures." She responded while taking a sip of her tea. With her old age, she still moves gracefully as she was like before.
"How about you? How's the business been doing?"
"Same as always. I never wanted to be rich with this business anyways and I doubt I'll ever be. With the spell I casted at the door, I rarely get the same customer twice or more. If they do come back, they won't remember that they were here before."
She chuckled and took another sip of her tea. "Actually, I came here for a reason." She then grabbed something in her bag and gave it to me. It was a long wooden box with gold engravings on it.
Ad me virent peony.
I smiled as I remembered this phrase somewhere. I opened the box and saw a hair stick with a peony flower shape at the tip. I know this pin.
I looked at her with a shock and confused expression but the woman just smiled at me. And that's where I know what this gift is for.
"Don't you think it's a little too soon to give me this precious item? You still look like a healthy lady, Christene."
"I don't live long like you do, Vael. I don't know when exactly but I know my time will come soon." She answered and took a sip.
I just looked at the pin again and remembered the story behind it.
"Let me put it on you." She offered and stood up. She grabbed a phone in her purse and combed my hair to fix it. "There. It looks beautiful on you."
I casted a spell for a mirror and looked at myself. It's not that bad.
We chatted for a while til the sun set and the sky was orange. I called a cab for her outside to send her home.
"I'll drop by again this week. I'd like to chat with you more while I still can." She said before closing the cab door. I just smiled and nodded at her. I waved goodbye as the car slowly got further away from the store.
I walked back inside the store when another customer came in and looked around.
The bell chimed, signaling the arrival of yet another customer. My eyes narrowed slightly as an impeccably dressed man strutted into the shop. His aura radiated self-importance, and the way he carried himself screamed arrogance. I had encountered his type before.
He barely spared me a glance as he strode toward the nearest display of flowers, plucking two bouquets at random. He examined them with fleeting interest before nodding to himself, clearly content with his choices.
I tilted my head, gaze sharpening as I reached for the threads of magic woven into the air. A whisper of power unfurled from my fingertips, subtle yet precise. It curled around him, threading into the unseen layers of his essence, slipping past the walls of his mind to reveal flickers of memory buried beneath his carefully constructed facade.
A lavish anniversary dinner. A different, more secretive rendezvous in a dimly lit parlor. Two bouquets—one for a devoted wife, the other for a mistress who believed she was the only one.
Disgust curled in my chest, but my face remained impassive. With deliberate ease, I stepped forward, plucking the bouquets from his hands and setting them aside. "Not those," I murmured, already selecting different blooms from the array before me.
My fingers moved with purpose, gathering flowers that would do more than simply please the eye. With each delicate touch, I traced invisible sigils upon the petals, weaving a spell into the very heart of each bouquet. A spell of revelation. Not immediate, not dramatic, but inevitable. Secrets, no matter how well-buried, could not remain hidden forever.
Satisfied, I wrapped the bouquets with practiced ease. "Here you are," I said, handing them over. "A truly unique arrangement. Each bloom carries a story—it will ensure that all truths are known."
The man, none the wiser, tossed a few coins on the counter and turned, making his way toward the door. But just as he stepped forward, a seemingly misplaced flower pot caught the tip of his expensive shoe. He staggered—arms flailing—before catching himself at the last moment, just shy of crashing into a shelf of delicate vases.
I exhaled slowly, feigning innocence. Veydris, perched atop a nearby shelf, flicked his tail lazily, his violet eyes glinting with pure mischief. The dragonling's act had been subtle, yet masterfully executed.
The man scowled and muttered curses under his breath before storming out of the shop, bouquets in hand. I allowed myself a small, satisfied smirk.
"That," I murmured to Veydris, "was well deserved."
It is then time to close the shop. I walked around the shop to clean and check for anything alarming before locking the door. I walked to the back and up to my room and took a warm bath. I called off the spell that hid my ears and did my routine. I undid my hair and felt a hard wood on my head. I pulled it out and remembered the pin I got earlier. I stared down at the pin and let out a bittersweet smile as I remembered the story behind this pin.
This pin is carved from the heartwood of the Aloera Tree. The first tree. The source of all magic.
The weight of that truth settled deep in my chest. Every being, from the smallest dwarf to the mightiest dragon, owed their magic to this tree. It was not bound to any single race—it was the lifeblood of the world, meant to be shared.
But greed is a disease even magic cannot cure.
Many had tried to claim the tree's power for themselves, weaving spells, raising armies, and carving deep into its bark in their hunger to hoard magic. But the Aloera Tree is no helpless relic. It fought back—not with weapons or wrath, but with will. Magic is balance, and those who sought to disrupt it faced ruin.
That is why the Floral Wardens were formed—to protect the Aloera Tree and ensure its gifts remained for all. And that is why the land surrounding it is sacred.
The ground where the Aloera Tree stands is unlike anywhere else in the world. Here, magic does not discriminate. Strength, status, and bloodlines hold no weight. A dragon stands as an equal to a dwarf, a mage no greater than a farmer. All who step upon its soil are bound by the same truth—the Aloera Tree does not give more to the powerful, nor does it withhold from the weak. It is the great equalizer, the foundation of unity.
Its blossoms are unlike any others, imbued with the essence of renewal. A single petal can mend wounds no healer can touch, soothe a soul on the brink of collapse, or cleanse curses woven from the darkest of sorceries. And the fruit… a rarity few have tasted. Sweet, golden, thrumming with raw mana. To eat it is to drink from the wellspring of magic itself, restoring what is lost—perhaps even enhancing what was already there.
Even in death, the Aloera Tree does not fade. Its fallen wood releases a scent—soft, sweet, lingering beyond time itself. No matter how many years pass, its fragrance never dulls, as if the tree refuses to be forgotten.
I exhaled slowly, clutching the pin a little tighter. Magic was never meant to be owned. It was meant to flow. And here, in the presence of the Aloera Tree, all are reminded of that truth.
People have spent centuries trying to cultivate the Aloera Tree, only to fail time and time again. Not even my family, with all their knowledge and mastery over plant life, could unravel its secrets. That is—until me. I was the first, the only one, to successfully nurture an Aloera seed.
But it never became a tree.
Instead, it grew into a single bud—lively, yet forever on the verge of blooming. Its petals remain tightly wound, as if guarding something unseen, untouched by time itself. No matter how carefully I tend to it, no matter how much magic I weave into its roots, it refuses to open.
I keep it safe in my enchanted garden, watching, waiting. Yet deep down, I know—it's waiting too. For what, I still don't understand.
I was able to purchase a few lumbers of wood before and managed to create the pin in my hand. I stared at it and placed it in a safe place before taking a shower.
I then walked to my table and reviewed what I have done so far.
Every night, after I close up shop, I take some of my flowers for experiments and study, to see how far my flowers can go and what else is there I can do for them.
The other night, I was studying Seraph Lily. This flower has a golden-white lily with feathered petals that move gently, as if alive. This flower is said to bring luck in love and protect against heartbreak. Some believe it was a gift from celestial beings. But I'd like to study more. All the flowers in my enchanted garden not only react to emotions or true feelings, they also react to magic. I tried applying different types of magic on each flower seeing they're endurance and reactions. I tried to use ice magic on Seraph Lily last night to see how the flowers will react during winter. They still glow however they don't move even though I haven't completely frozen the flower yet but emit a cold air around it first. I tried to actually freeze the flower and left it for 3 hours at first to see how the flower would last but after only 15 minutes, the flower stopped glowing. I unfrozen the flower and eventually it died but when the ice melted, the flower slowly turned into small particles of hot sparks but they are surprisingly not flammable; so this time, I'm gonna try fire magic on the lilies.
It was already around midnight when I felt my eyelids getting heavy. I stopped what I was doing and cleaned up around the table using magic before fixing my bed to go to bed. I turned the night lights on and turned of the main light before I snuggle unto my bed. I looked at the ceiling as I see the imitations of Eldrenveil Lights the humans made. I looked as the lights danced on my ceiling, reminding of the first lights I see these lights when I was young. These lights are comes every few years. These lights lasted for only 3 days and 3 nights.
I still remember the first time the Eldrenveil Lights graced the sky. I was young, running through the meadows of my hometown, chasing the wind like a fool, when I first heard it—the softest, most haunting tune. I followed the melody, my heart racing, until I stumbled upon them—Eclipsara Blossoms, their petals shimmering beneath the light.
As the Eldrenveil Lights danced above, the flowers responded, humming a gentle song that seemed to match the rhythm of the sky. Even now, I can still feel the faint shimmer of that magic, lingering in the daylight. It's not as bright, but it's there—a quiet reminder.
That night, with the Eclipsara in bloom and the sky alive above me, I knew. Magic wasn't something to be controlled—it was something to be nurtured. The Eclipsara sparked a passion in me, not just for gardening, but for sharing the beauty of the world. It was the beginning of everything that would come.
I slowly feel myself drifting to sleep as I remembered those most cherished moments of mine.
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Someone's POV
I ran as fast as I can, not minding my bleeding feet in the rubbles. I can here them shouting and chasing me, so I ran even faster. I turned around to see how far they were from me, only to fell down a cliff. The cliff wasn't that high and luckily it was covered with soft grass. With little mana left, I casted a cloning spell and directed the clone to another direction while I hide under the big old tree as I heard them running down the direction where my clone ran.
"He ran this way!" One of them shouted and the rest followed. I held my breath as I listen to their footsteps slowly getting quiet. I gave out a long breathe when they disappeared. I looked at my body and saw many blood and wounds all over me. I can't really heal myself since I'm really out of mana and I'm in a really bad shape. I need to rest.
I closed my eyes and slowly regained my mana while sleeping. I'm fine with at least 30% of my mana before the sunrises, then I'll heal these wounds by tomorrow.