Lira moved carefully between the rows of lush greenery, her spatial bag secure at her side. She paused often, hands brushing over leaves, inhaling the faint scent of magic that each plant carried. Here and there, she plucked delicate saplings of herbs and flowers she had never seen in her grove, their roots wrapped carefully in damp moss to keep them safe. Some shimmered faintly with a gentle inner light, and she felt a thrill of anticipation — these rare seedlings would bring life and vitality to her little sanctuary, and perhaps teach her more about tending to living magic.
As she carefully tucked the saplings into her bag, a familiar voice floated through the greenhouse:
"Lira! I haven't seen you for ages."
