As Lira stepped out of the greenhouse, sunlight warmed her face, grounding her after the strange, magical experience inside. Just then, Maelin rushed toward her, breathless and flustered.
"Sorry!" Maelin grabbed Lira's hand. "I had to leave for a moment. Are you okay? You look a little… lost."
Lira gave a small nod, still absorbing everything she'd seen and felt.
"Come on," Maelin grinned, suddenly full of energy again. "We need to go to another class now—it's about counting!"
"Counting?" Lira echoed softly, confused.
But Maelin was already tugging her forward. They hurried across the courtyard and into one of the taller buildings. Soon, they were stepping into a classroom unlike any she'd seen before.
Rows of tables stretched across the room, each built for two students. Strange symbols were scribbled across the blackboard, glowing faintly. Lira paused, scanning for a free seat, and slid into one next to a black-haired girl who gave her a quick side glance and said nothing. The girl's posture was proud, her expression unreadable.
As the class began, a teacher with short black hair and an intense, hawk-like gaze stepped to the front. The room fell silent in an instant.
Without a word of greeting, the teacher began scrawling sharp symbols across the board, her voice brisk and firm. Lira had no idea what any of it meant. No one spoke. No one whispered. The air was thick with pressure, and even Maelin sat unusually still.
Lira stared at the glowing symbols, confused, but tried not to show it. Instead, she copied them carefully onto her paper, one by one, listening as best she could, hoping that something would begin to make sense.
As the class slowly ended, no one moved until the teacher packed her things and left the room. A wave of relief passed through the students like a shared breath finally exhaled.
The black-haired girl flicked her hair toward Lira.
"My name is Dominica. Since you sat near me, next time make a copy of the symbols for me too. We should help each other if we sit together. If you don't… be careful. I have friends."
She smirked, then added, "Now come with me. We're going shopping."
Lira, too shy to speak and unsure what to do, noticed Maelin chatting with another girl across the room. So, with no better plan, she followed Dominica.
They stepped outside and took a turn behind some strange, wire-like bushes. A few other students were gathered there, holding odd-looking plants and sucking nectar from their blossoms while laughing in a strange, giddy way—almost possessed.
Dominica grabbed one and shoved it into Lira's hands.
"Try this."
The moment Lira touched the plant, she felt it didn't belong in the mouth—it was for external healing, not consumption.
She pushed it back gently. "I need to run somewhere. See you."
Before Dominica could react, Lira turned and bolted, her instincts screaming that she needed to get away.
Not knowing where to go, she rushed into a large building with towering stained-glass windows. She opened the heavy door with surprising ease and found herself standing in front of a wide desk. Behind it stood a woman wearing a sharp monocle, holding a thick book.
"Oh, another one incoming," the woman said. "Welcome to the library. My name is Mandra Inkwell, and I guide things here."
She snapped her fingers and a scroll appeared in front of Lira.
"These are the library rules. Read them carefully."
Before Lira could look down, the librarian continued:
"Since you're new, feel free to browse. If you want to borrow anything, there's a small fee for membership. Avoid locked rooms. This is a place of quiet. Few come, but those who do, find more than they expect. Now go—and don't even think about harming my books.
Lira stepped into the rows of towering bookshelves, her eyes wide with wonder. Back home, she had only ever seen torn pages or broken bindings—never anything like this. Shelf after shelf stretched out before her, so many that she quickly lost count. The air smelled of parchment and something old and comforting.
The small bird on her shoulder, silent until now, suddenly fluttered to life and darted off between the shelves. Startled, Lira followed quickly, weaving through narrow aisles. She found her little companion hovering in front of a green-bound book nestled between two much larger tomes.
Curious, she stepped closer. The book shimmered faintly, as if recognizing her. She reached out, and the book slid itself from the shelf, opening in midair. Its pages turned rapidly on their own, then stopped. Images of plants appeared—beautiful drawings with names, uses, and instructions beside them.
Lira stared in awe. She reached out and brushed a fingertip across one page. More words appeared—descriptions of teas, healing elixirs, and salves. Her heart filled with wonder. It was everything she had always wanted to learn.
But then, reality crept in. She didn't have coins. She never had coins. Looking down, she sighed and slowly stepped away from the book. Her bird returned to her shoulder, and together they headed toward the exit, sadness settling quietly in her chest.
"Thank you for letting me explore," she said softly as she passed the front desk.
"Wait," came the voice of the librarian. "Why is that book following you?"
Lira turned and gasped. The green book floated behind her, glowing slightly.
"I—I didn't do anything," she stammered. "It just… opened on its own, and then…"
Mandra Inkwell stepped forward, gently taking the book. She studied it for a moment, then smiled knowingly.
"Ah. Now I understand," she said, handing it back. "This book has chosen you. Some of them do that, from time to time. Take it. It's yours now. It will guide you in your work. But treat it well—it may change its mind if you do not care for it."
She gave Lira a pointed look, then added, "You are welcome here anytime. Just… read the rules."
With that, Mandra turned and walked away into the depths of the library, vanishing like a shadow into the stacks.
Lira looked down at the book in her hands, wonder glowing in her chest again. Hugging it close, she stepped outside and made her way back to her room. This time, her steps were sure. She had found something precious. Something that felt like hers.
A sanctuary waited—and now, it held even more than before.
Back in her room, Lira sat quietly on her bed, the green-bound book resting in her lap. She reached out and touched its cover once more. It shimmered faintly beneath her fingertips, a soft glow pulsing like breath.
Curious, she opened it again.
A thought drifted to her mind—the ice lotus. That strange flower from the greenhouse… Could it be in here?
As if the book had heard her, its pages fluttered on their own, turning swiftly until they stopped with a quiet fwump. There, in elegant script and detailed illustration, was the very bloom she had seen—icy blue petals curled inward like frozen flames.
She leaned in, trying to read the text. Some of the symbols were unfamiliar, shifting subtly like they resisted being understood. But parts of it matched the lesson from earlier: If touched, it may burn the skin with frost and carry a poison of cold through the blood.
Lira's brows furrowed. But the little fairy had touched it… even fed her from it.
Nothing had happened. No pain. No burn. No chill in her veins.
Was it a lie? Or… something else?
She closed the book gently, placing it beside her on the bed, still full of questions. The bird on her shoulder chirped once, as if agreeing.
Rising, Lira looked slowly around her room. There, on the table, were the tools she had been given—strangely familiar. Mortar, pestle, drying rack, even small glass jars. Just like back home. Just like her cottage.
Her gaze drifted further. Tucked neatly into a wooden crate were sprigs of herbs—chamomile, sage, lavender… all things she knew by scent and feel.
A warmth stirred in her chest.
She rolled up her long sleeves and tied them with thin ribbons, the movement automatic and comforting. Then, with care, she began preparing a simple, calming tea—letting the ritual soothe her, letting the scent of the herbs steady her breath.
So much had changed so quickly. But this—this she understood.
And for a while, in the soft quiet of her room, surrounded by books and warmth, Lira simply let herself be.