Dawn broke over Seminah like a slow breath through the trees, casting golden light across the rooftop of Argolaith's cabin. Birds stirred in the distance, and mist crept low along the grass. But beneath the stillness, something new had taken root.
Argolaith opened his eyes.
He had slept near the spiraled sprout again—on purpose. A blanket around his shoulders, sword near his side, mind half-waiting for another whisper.
But this morning… it was quiet.
Still.
Then he saw it.
The sprout had bloomed.
The plant now stood waist-high, its spiral stalk straightened into a smooth column of pale green veined with gold. At its top was a single flower—blooming wide, perfectly circular.
But it was like no flower Argolaith had ever seen.
Its petals shimmered with colorless light, folding and unfolding slowly as though breathing. One moment they looked translucent white. The next, they rippled like flame caught in ice. And at the flower's center—
A rune.
