Rosecap Thistlewick's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Rosecap Thistlewick knelt in her frozen garden and counted the dead sprouts. She wanted one thing: to grow the Everbloom, a flower AuroraVeil had not seen in a thousand years. Its seed sat in her palm, tiny and pale. But frost had crept over her soil overnight. White crystals coated every furrow. She pressed a bare seed into the dirt and watched ice creep toward it within seconds. The Everbloom would freeze before it ever took root. Rosecap tugged her red mushroom hat down and stamped one small boot. "Not today, frost. Not this seed." Her dark green hair swung as she scanned the garden for anything warm. She found nothing. The cold had won every corner. A rustle came from the hedge. A small opossum crept out, brown-furred, with delicate fairy wings folded on its back. It carried a torn scrap of vine in its teeth. It dropped the vine at her feet and stared at her with soft, patient eyes. Rosecap picked up the scrap. Pink leaves. Blue and gold blossoms. The frostbloom ivy grew all winter without dying. It fed on cold instead of fearing it. She had walked past it a hundred times and never guessed its use. "You're telling me to plant this over the seed," she said. The opossum blinked slowly, which she chose to read as yes. She followed the opossum to the hedge and pulled a long strand of the pink ivy loose. She carried it back and laid it over the buried seed like a blanket. The ivy's blossoms glowed faintly against the white ground. Then she waited, hands clenched. The frost stopped spreading. It even pulled back a hand's width around the ivy. But the soil under the leaves stayed too cold. No sprout stirred. The ivy shielded the seed, yet gave it no warmth. Rosecap needed heat, and she had none. A hum passed over her head. A tiny dragon dropped from the air and landed on the ivy. Its scales shone like petals. Its wings caught the light like a dragonfly's. Warm golden breath drifted from its mouth and melted the frost near the seed. Rosecap held very still. "Stay," she whispered. "Right there." The little dragon curled over the buried seed and breathed slow and steady. Under the ivy's shield and the dragon's warmth, the soil went dark and soft. A green thread pushed up through the dirt. The Everbloom had taken root. Rosecap laughed and clapped her muddy hands. The frost was beaten. But the dragon's warmth had woken more than her seed. Along the whole hedge, the pink ivy uncurled fast, sending new vines across the melted soil. The blossoms turned toward her sprout, and the vines followed. The frostbloom ivy was growing toward the Everbloom, and it was growing quickly.