part 2
One early morning, Belosa could not sleep. For nights she hadn't been visited by the spirits nor had her mother's presence come near — until last night, when Flora's hand had stroked her hair and then vanished. She wished she would not wake from that dream. Her mother had looked the same as she remembered: beautiful, kind, warm. Waking, Belosa felt both joy and a strange ache in her body — not a specific injury, but a hollow pang that made her wonder if sorrow could make the body hurt.
Outside the window, Lillia headed toward the forest in her habitual outfit. She went every single day to meet Harold. Sometimes she returned with wounds that the nurse would stitch and scold her for; Lillia would only grin. Since the day she crossed the barrier five years ago, Lillia had been busier than anyone could guess, and Eliora constantly followed to watch over her. Through Eliora, Belosa knew something of what Lillia did in the woods, but she could not understand why Lillia practiced with blades as if preparing for actual battle.
Eliora tracked Lillia closely, watching every move to ensure she did not get entangled in danger. Belosa had to awaken soon. Lillia was stirring. Only Belosa could protect Lillia; the more Lillia was provoked, the more likely the seal would break. If Lillia awakened, everyone would be at risk. Flora had commanded that Lillia be kept safe and that the sealing not be undone — and that charge weighed heavily upon Belosa.
"Flora… my beloved friend," Belosa thought. "Lillia is far stronger and more dangerous than you imagined."
Suddenly Belosa felt heat spread through her body; exhaustion turned to dizziness and then blankness. She collapsed into darkness and walked without sight, without knowing whether what she moved across was earth or air. Time lost meaning — dream or reality? She pressed on through an endless dark until a distant, star-shaped light appeared.
She moved toward the light though she could not tell if the ground beneath her feet was solid or a void. The light grew as she approached, and star after star brightened the way. Then, as the brilliance filled the space, Flora stood before her.
"Belosa… Belosa, my beloved daughter," a voice said, gentle as starlight.
"Mother?" Belosa whispered.
Flora's presence was warm and real. Belosa felt all the emotions she had kept hidden — longing, grief, and the ache of nights spent crying into her pillow. Flora smiled kindly and led her onward.
"Belosa, keep going. Do not stop. This place is not for mortals; I called you here because I feared for your safety."
"I miss you so much," Belosa said. "I thought — I wanted you."
"I know," Flora murmured. "Before I left, I told you I would always be in your heart. You need not see me for me to be with you. When you feel sorrow, my heart hurts too."
Belosa sobbed softly. "I feel you now. I won't wait anymore. I know you're always with me."
"From now on," Flora said, "your body will suffer greatly. You must endure. I will stand beside you. Be not afraid."
As Flora spoke, countless flowers rose and wrapped Belosa in their petals; butterflies and bees brushed her face as if to pay homage. Belosa drank in every moment, steadying her breath. Then a burning pain spread over her skin. She clenched her teeth and bore it; vine-like leaf patterns crawled from her fingertips, glowing and scorching like fire and then settling like drawn ink over her flesh. The agony ebbed and was replaced by a radiant light as the vine patterns spread across her body.
Belosa understood with a clarity that stunned her: this was the awakening Flora had foretold — the change that would shape the years to come.
"Belosa, you are part of nature," Flora said. "You grew speaking with plants and insects. You can lend them your strength, and their strength can become yours. Promise me, Belosa: protect Lillia. You already have enough power. Believe in yourself. When Lillia reaches twenty she will seek me. The place I dwell cannot be reached by any god. I chose this life. I blame no one. But Lillia was born into a hard fate. Her seal must not break — if she leaves the palace the seal will begin to unbind; when she awakens everything will be unleashed and countless will be destroyed. If she seeks me, the seal will be lifted completely and her power will be freed. My wish that you watch over her was meant that she might lead a simple life."
As Flora finished, the vine markings faded until only a small leaf-shaped sigil remained on Belosa's right hand. Flora's figure dissolved into the starlight.
Belosa opened her eyes and lifted her hand to look at the tiny leaf on the back of her palm. So it wasn't a dream. The burning sensation had not been a dream. She brought her hand to the small potted flower on the windowsill; a glow rose from the leaf sigil and the flower's petals unfurled toward her hand as if recognizing a kinship.
Belosa heard, faint and close, the beating of Flora's heart in her chest — not with ears but with the soul's hearing.
My heart sees you.
A single tear fell. Words left unsaid churned inside her. The unseen one is visible when you close your eyes. Her chest tightened; an ache at being unable to reach across distance. My heart sees you.