Rosalyn Ebonbloom's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Rosalyn brought the jasmine root back to her workshop and left it on the table beside the seed vault key. She didn't plan to use them together — not yet. But three days later, when she returned from collecting moss samples, the seed was out of its drawer. She'd left it wrapped in cloth, tucked in the bottom of an old herb cabinet where no one would look. Now it sat on the table next to the jasmine cutting, which had sprouted pale tendrils that coiled toward the seed like fingers reaching. The seed itself had cracked open along one edge, revealing a dark green interior that pulsed faintly in the lamplight. Rosalyn pulled the shimmering cloak from her hook by the door and draped it over the table, watching how the fabric bent light around the objects beneath it. The tendrils kept growing. She could see them moving under the translucent folds, spreading faster now that she was watching. The grimoire hadn't mentioned this — it said nothing about the seed responding before it was planted. She considered separating them, but the math was already changing. The seed had chosen to wake. Refusing it now would only prove she'd been afraid to see what it would become. She pulled the cloak away and let the tendrils continue. By morning, they'd wound completely around the seed, and the jasmine cutting had withered to a husk.