Vivienne exhaled sharply, her silhouette outlined by the combined glow of the ignis bark and the faint moonlight streaming through the ceiling’s rough opening. "We can’t wait here for two weeks," she muttered, exhaustion saturating every syllable. "The commander doesn’t have that long."
Cirrus rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes dark with unspoken worry. "He’s not my favorite person, but I won’t let him die without trying everything we can."
Florence's expression wavered between sympathy and doubt. "Even if we manage to force these things to bloom, we have no guarantee they’ll work." Her voice dropped, reluctant to say the words aloud. "Thorne might be too far gone already?—"
"They’ll work," Vivienne snapped, her chest tightening.They have to work.
Cirrus shifted closer, resting a warm, reassuring hand against the small of her back. "Banns," his voice was softer than before, gentle but firm. "Unless you have a way to change the moon cycles or, I don’t know, travel two weeks into the past or future… this isn’t possible."
"I need to think," she muttered, stepping away from him and pacing along the uneven cavern floor.
The relentless roar of the waterfall made it difficult to focus, its uncompromising power hammering against the walls, drowning out her own thoughts. Her mind scrambled for a solution, grasping at every lesson, every book, every scrap of knowledge she had ever collected.There has to be something.
She wished Lewis were here. If anyone could make sense of this plant’s stubborn refusal to bloom, it was him. He knew more about flora than she ever would.Do we pray to Elandra? No, that would be reckless.They weren’t devoted followers, and the last thing they needed was to summon the goddess’ wrath.
Her pulse pounded as she clawed through the archives of her mind, desperate for an answer.Come on, Vivienne. Think.
Then, like the slow unfurling of a long-lost memory, something surfaced.
A conversation with Lewis, around a year ago, while they sat on Rocky Beach with pastries in hand. He had been rambling about his greenhouse propagation project—how they used prisms to extend the light spectrum for plants during the winter.
Her throat tightened, capturing her breath.
Vivienne lifted her gaze to the waning crescent moon peeking through the cavern’s ceiling. Slowly, a grin curled at the edges of her lips, her mind alight with a wild, impossible idea.
She strode across the cave, yanking her tote open, her fingers searching feverishly through its contents. Cirrus and Florence approached, watching her curiously.
"I have an idea!" Vivienne called over the deafening water, holding up her compact triumphantly.
Florence squinted. "Are you going to make sure your hair and makeup will look good on your corpse?"
"Of course not." Vivienne rolled her eyes. "What if we don’t need a full moon? What if we only need the Noctilum tothinkit’s a full moon?"
"Are you suggesting we use psychology or hypnotism on the plants?" Florence crossed her arms, unimpressed.
Cirrus tilted his head, his ice-blue eyes narrowing. "Wait… is that the compact with only?—"
Vivienne flipped open the small, silver case, revealing two perfectly polished mirrors.
Florence stared. "Brilliant. Now we can watch our deaths from multiple angles."
"No, listen," Vivienne said, her excitement mounting. "We can use the mirrors to amplify the moonlight. Not exactly a prism, but enough to reflect more light onto the flowers?—"
"Tricking them into thinking it’s a full moon," Cirrus finished, his posture shifting from doubtful to intrigued.
Florence sighed, but a slow smirk tugged at her lips. "Alright, Banner. Let’s see if your madness pays off."
Vivienne ran a thumb over the engraved hummingbird on the compact’s surface before snapping the hinge over her knee, breaking it clean in two. She tossed half to Cirrus and the other to Florence. They moved quickly, adjusting their positions to maximize the reflection.
Cirrus took his stance at the tunnel’s entrance, angling his mirror to catch the thin sliver of moonlight seeping through the cavern’s ceiling. He shifted, tilting the surface until the pale glow bounced toward Florence. She did the same, directing the light toward the vine where Vivienne stood.
The moment the silver beams bathed the buds, something shifted. A faint vibration pulsed through the air. The Noctilum trembled, shivering like a creature rousing from slumber. Then… nothing.
Vivienne held her breath.
Seconds passed. Minutes.
The buds remained shut.
