Seraphina Rosewing's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Seraphina Rosewing had spent three years hunting the last hidden grove. She wanted to crown herself its queen before the blight ate it whole. Now she knelt in a cellar under a candy-striped factory that smelled of burnt sugar, holding a cluster of spooky little plants. Their tiny leaves twitched. Their blossoms turned toward her like curious eyes. These were the Moonmirth Blooms, and old elven lore said they only grew where a true grove still breathed. "They're pointing," she whispered. The plants leaned as one, all bending the same way. A broken light flickered above the pots. It was not a lamp. It was a fairy, her body torn by streaks of color that blinked in and out. The Glitch Fairy hovered, half here, half gone, and her voice came in stutters. "You're— you're close," the fairy said. "The last grove. I can s-see it. But so can she." "Who?" Seraphina asked. The cellar door groaned open. Boots clicked down the steps. Professor Morgana Blackthorn descended, one white streak cutting through her black hair, her nails long and dark. She had taught Seraphina magic once, then buried her most useful lessons. "Little Rosewing," Morgana said. "Still chasing a throne." Seraphina stood, clutching the pots to her chest. "You followed me." "I let you find them." Morgana nodded at the Blooms. "You do the hard work. I take the grove. I always planned it that way." The Glitch Fairy flared bright, then scattered into fragments. Her voice broke apart. "Run— the plants know the p-path— go before she—" Morgana raised a hand. Dark light gathered at her fingertips. Seraphina did not run. She thrust the Moonmirth Blooms forward. The plants opened their blossoms wide and let out a sound, a thin ringing hum. The cellar wall behind Morgana shimmered. A door of pale roots peeled open, and beyond it Seraphina saw trees. Real trees. Silver bark, glowing moss, a grove alive and waiting. She had found it. It was right there. Morgana turned toward the opening, and her spell fizzled in her hand. "There," she breathed. "There it is." Seraphina lunged past her and through the root door. Cold grove air hit her face. She spun and pressed the Blooms against the doorway. The plants shrieked, and the roots snapped shut, sealing the wall. Morgana's fist struck the barrier from the other side. It held. Seraphina stood alone inside the last hidden grove. She had won it. She lifted her chin and looked for the oldest tree, the crowning tree, where a queen must stand. Then she saw the leaves. Gray veins crept up every trunk. The moss dimmed as she watched. The blight was already here, and it was faster than the stories warned. She had a kingdom at last. She had days to save it, and Morgana still knew the way in.