Several Years Later
"I can't believe you're really leaving us! Olivie!" Tails clung to me like I was her life raft. Despite being younger, she had outgrown me in height, and I felt squashed against her chin. Her braided hair tickled my nose, and up close, I could see the careful weaving of ribbons threaded through it.
"It won't be forever," I said, patting her back gently before pulling away.
She stood before me, every bit the beauty she'd grown into. Father paid her more attention these days—though I suspected it was only because he hoped to marry her off to some wealthy family. Today, he'd dressed her in a bright, colorful gown; the deep red brought out the gold glints in her hair. Seeing her like that broke my heart a little.
By the time I finished school, would the Tails I knew still exist? Or would she become Talla, the name Father insisted on.
Her fate hadn't befallen me. I wasn't considered beautiful, not in the way Tails was, and I had a full scholarship to college. Father had objected, of course, but in the end, he couldn't stop me. He hadn't even come to say goodbye.
"You be good, Tails," I said, offering my best big-sister smile. "Get good grades in reading, and you might get a scholarship too."
At those words, something dimmed in her eyes.
"I'm no good," she sighed. "Not like you. You're brilliant… you'll be a brilliant researcher."
She leaned down close, her voice lowering to a whisper. "I still can't believe you're actually hunting down the Blossom Ascendant story."
Father didn't know. He thought my scholarship was for a general study of myths and legends. But I'd chosen that onelegend—his forbidden book—the one he had punished us for reading.
For years, it haunted me. It danced through my dreams. I had visions of a strange, verdant land bursting with color, a place that made my gray world feel even duller. I had to find it.
"You'll write to me?" Tails whispered, her breath warm in my ear. Her hair tickled my cheek again, and I stifled a laugh.
"As often as I can. But where I'm going..." I hesitated.
"There won't be an office to mail them," she finished, her face falling just like the first time she asked.
"I'll bring back something exotic," I said, trying to lighten the moment.
"An alligator tooth," she said immediately, her eyes lighting up. "Please! I saw one in a book. So cool."
"If I find any rogue teeth lying around, I'll think of you," I smiled.
I hoisted my lone backpack over my shoulder and turned to leave—but something crashed into me from behind. Tails was wrapped around me, squeezing so tightly I could barely breathe.
"Please! Promise you'll come back, oh Olivie," she sobbed. "I already miss you, and you haven't even left."
"It'll be okay," I murmured, stroking her back. "You won't really be alone. I arranged visits with some of the girls from the village. You'll make friends."
But we both knew the truth. Tails didn't want friends. I had been her only companion for so long. What she wanted was for me to stay.
"I have to go," I whispered. "Father's already displeased with me. But things will be better for you now."
Then, more teasingly: "Now let go—I can't go find those teeth with you clinging to me like this."
"Just be careful," she said fiercely, giving me a rare flash of her defiant self.
"I won't let any evil wizards eat my soul, if that's what you're worried about," I chuckled.
"Talla!" came a voice from the distance — the house servant, waving her arms.
"Coming!" Tails shouted back. She gave me one last crushing hug and dashed off toward the house.
I looked up at the towering, gloomy place that had been our prison for so long. I adjusted the strap of my pack, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.
I was going to do this.
The journey was longer and harder than I had expected. I'd never gone hiking. I'd never even left the grounds of our house. Once the excitement wore off, the fatigue sank in. I missed my bed, Tails' antics, even the dull green hallways that existed nowhere else.
As I moved farther from the city, the towns grew smaller, quieter. At night I stayed in little inns, where the breakfasts were warm and sweet—steaming bowls of oatmeal with cream and sugar.
One morning, I smiled down at a bowl sprinkled with bits of chocolate. I wished I could transport Tails there, just for one taste. It was so different from our dry, crumbling food — as if the house itself had sucked the life from every bite.
Eventually, I reached the last village. It barely qualified as one — just a tight cluster of shops and homes clinging to the edge of the sea.
Now I needed a boat.
The water here wasn't warm like bathwater. It was icy, with a briny sting that left a taste on my tongue and salt clinging to my skin. The whole village reeked of the sea — even the food seemed to have absorbed its sharpness.
A storm hit, stranding us for days. The wind howled, rattling my window, and I wondered what it would feel like to be out there on the water.
The sea was not tame. It was wild, vast, terrifying. And for the first time, I questioned what I — a sheltered girl, a scholar's daughter — was doing here.
When the storm cleared, sunlight revealed the wreckage it left behind. The only boat available was one I'd have to steer myself.
I accepted the sailing lessons awkwardly, clumsily. When I told the villagers where I intended to go, their expressions shifted.
There was a silence.
Then someone offered a deal: for a little extra money, I could keep the boat—and they'd throw in some preserves for the journey.
It wasn't kindness.
They were afraid of that jungle. Terrified.
But I wasn't.
Not yet.