Professor Briar’s classroom smelled like soil, herbs and faintly like wildflowers. Instead of desks, long rows of dirt-filled troughs lined the room, soft and freshly turned. Gardening tools and little watering cans were stacked neatly by the walls. A warm breeze drifted in from the open windows, rustling the rows of leafy vines growing along the sills.

Professor Briar stood at the front, humming softly into her teacup. Her impossibly long brown hair was braided into thick ropes that draped over her shoulders like climbing ivy. One of her eyes was a warm brown, the other a deep green, like moss after rain. She blinked slowly at the students as they filed in, a daisy tucked behind one ear and an apron smudged with dirt tied over her robes.

Bounding along the soil rows was Rue, her jackalope familiar, ears perked and nose twitching as she surveyed the new arrivals.

“Welcome, little sprouts,” Professor Briar said in a drowsy sing-song voice, rocking slightly on her feet. “Today, we’ll be doing something soft and quiet and good. You’ll each be given a seed for a magical plant. Your task is to work with your partner to help it bloom safely and without incident.”

She sipped her tea and exhaled a dreamy sigh. “Magic wants to grow. You just have to give it the space to do so.”

The students started whispering excitedly.

“You’ll all pair up into groups of two,” Briar added, blinking slowly again. “Plants grow best with a bit of company—just as people do.”

Lily, Ophelia, and Celeste exchanged a quick glance.

“So, uh…” Lily scratched the back of her head. “How should we…?”

Ophelia tilted her head towards Lily. “Wanna team up?”

Lily blinked, surprised but smiling. “Sure.”

Celeste hesitated, then nodded once. “Alright. I guess I’ll go find someone to team up with.”

She looked around to find someone else without a partner. Most of the class had already moved into pairs, leaving only one person unclaimed: Harlow, seated at the window with his chin resting in his hand. He didn’t seem concerned.

Celeste gave a small sigh and made her way over.

“Looks like we're the only ones without a partner. Wanna team up?”

Harlow gave her a slow, sideways glance as she sat next to him. “Fine.”

Rue appeared beside them, thumping his foot and offering them a small seed pouch with a glowing mark etched on it. Inside was a single smooth, pearl-blue seed that pulsed faintly with light.

Following the instructions written on the chalkboard in soft, curling handwriting, they carefully planted the seed in the soft dirt of their row and channeled just a trickle of magic into the soil. The seed twitched—then sprouted.

A shimmering stem pushed through the dirt, quickly unfurling rainbow-tinted leaves. The bloom at the top opened into an electric blue flower that hummed quietly, almost like it was purring.

“It’s a Sparkleaf,” Harlow murmured. “The leaves can be dried and brewed for a tea that boosts energy.”

“You know that off the top of your head?”

“I read.”

Celeste didn’t push further, and the two fell into a quiet rhythm, tending to the plant carefully. Around them, Rue hopped to and fro, occasionally sniffing near students who looked confused or were overwatering their seeds. Professor Briar wandered slowly among the rows, offering gentle encouragement like, “Oh, what a handsome sprout!” or “Don’t forget to talk to them—they like it.”

It was peaceful. Quiet. Almost dreamy.

Until someone sneezed.

A loud, violent sound echoed from the front of the room. One of the students jolted—and so did the plant they were working with. It shuddered, then let out a sudden hiss—releasing a faint purple gas.

Two students slumped forward into their soil rows.

Professor Briar gasped, her teacup clinking. “Oh dear. The Slumbervine got startled…”

Rue immediately darted over to inspect the unconscious students.

Briar leaned down, checking their pulses. “They’ll be alright. The gas isn’t harmful—just makes you very, very sleepy. It’ll wear off soon, but I think it'd be best if I take them to the infirmary, just in case.”

She turned back to the rest of the class with a calm, dreamy smile. “Class dismissed a little early today, sprouts. Be gentle with your blooms, and tidy up before you go.”

Students began packing up, still murmuring about what had happened. Celeste wiped her hands on a towel and looked over to Lily and Ophelia, who were whispering to each other as they wrapped up their tools.

“I think I’m gonna take Cleo out for a bit,” Celeste said as she approached them. “Just the two of us. We need to talk about some…personal stuff.”

Lily’s brow furrowed slightly with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Celeste said, nodding. “It’s just something I’ve been meaning to ask her.”

Ophelia gave a knowing nod and a soft, encouraging smile. “Got it. We’ll see you later.”

“Thanks.”

Cleo stood up from where she’d been curled up at the back of the classroom and quickly padded after Celeste. The two walked side by side out of the classroom and into the quiet afternoon light, the sounds of the campus fading behind them.

Eventually, they stopped at a grassy patch overlooking the lake, away from any prying eyes.

Celeste knelt beside Cleo, brushing the hair away from her face. “You wanted to talk?” Cleo asked. Celeste nodded. 

“So… in Magical Item Innovation class, I had this vision when I activated the magic on my charm. I don’t know what triggered it, but there was this boy in priest robes. He told me my life would be in danger soon, and honestly, it really freaked me out.”

Cleo was quiet for a long moment. Then, with a soft exhale, Cleo spoke. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something too.”

Celeste tilted her head.

“The necklace I wear—the one that lets me speak clearly—it wasn’t just some random person who gave it to me.”

Celeste blinked. “Okay…”

“It was given to me. By Lumosa.”

Celeste’s eyes widened. “The Lumosa? The god that the Lupenyr Federation worships?”

“Yeah,” Cleo said quietly. “I met her on the Unicorn Island while you were serving your punishment. She gave it to me as a sort of bribe to help her with a daunting task. I would’ve told you before, and I should have, but I didn’t know how to explain it then. I wasn’t sure I should, what with her being a god and all.”

Celeste opened her mouth to ask more—but the sharp ring of the class bell echoed across the breeze, calling students back to the next session.

Cleo whined. “Of course.”

Celeste sighed. “We’ll finish this later. Promise.”

They turned and headed back toward the school, questions piling like the clouds above them.

To be continued…