A flicker.

She paused.

From the far corner of the room, a faint green light shimmered softly, pulsing from the spine of a lone book wedged between older tomes. Something inside her stirred, like a forgotten bell chiming far away.

She reached for it.

The moment her fingers touched the cover, warmth rushed up her arm. Not fire—life. Energy. As if the book were breathing with the forest itself. She pulled it free and opened it, expecting nonsense.

Instead, she understood. Instantly. Every word.

The Book of Earth Magic.

Detailed etchings of root systems, diagrams of energy flows, ancient sigils that pulsed faintly beneath her touch. It spoke of channeling the body as a vessel of earth’s will—of grounding one’s spirit and calling forth growth. Her head began to ache softly as images flooded her: vines coiling with intention, winds stirring under whispered words, seeds blooming with a breath.

Liz stepped back, heart quickening. Her hand lifted almost on its own, and she whispered a phrase aloud.

The flowerpot by the window bloomed in seconds—violet petals unfurling with gentle wonder.

She gasped, stumbling slightly.

“That was quick,” a voice said.

Liz turned sharply.

The old woman stood at the doorway, her figure framed by the golden light of the room. She stepped inside, her voice calm but carrying something older, deeper.

“Looks like you found it,” she said gently. “Or… a part of it.”

Liz turned, clutching the book to her chest. “What do you mean? How is this even here? And how did you know this was my element?” Her voice tightened. “Who are you?”

The woman only offered a faint smile. “I’m exactly as you see me. No more, no less. The book… it’s not so special. Just something that waited for the right hands to open it. You should keep it. Though I doubt you’ll need it much longer.”

Liz stepped closer, her eyes sharp. “You speak like you know me.”

The woman’s expression softened further. “I stayed behind,” she said quietly, “because of a promise I made. A long time ago. And today, I suppose… I’ve taken a step closer to fulfilling it.”

Liz’s gaze didn’t leave hers. “Does it have to do with me?”

The old lady chuckled, her voice warm like an old memory. “Look how smart you are. He must’ve been so proud of you.”

Liz blinked. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He? Who are you talking about? Was he… someone I forgot?”

The woman didn’t answer right away. Her eyes, suddenly clouded with nostalgia, drifted somewhere far beyond the walls of the little library.

“Maybe,” she said softly. “Or maybe he’s someone you’re meant to remember… when your heart is ready.”

The old lady glanced toward the window, where shafts of sunlight spilled through the glass.

“Oh my,” she said, brushing her hands against her apron. “Look how high the sun has climbed already. The other three kids will be back soon. I’d best prepare them something to eat.” She turned to Liz with a smile. “You, dear, can stay here as long as you like. There are many books here that may speak to you.”

Liz gave a small nod, her lips pressed together. Her mind buzzed with questions she couldn’t yet ask. Instead, she turned back to the book in her hands, flipping slowly through the aged pages. As her fingers traced the sigils and diagrams, she tried the channeling techniques again—soft words, steady breath, focused will. A small vine coiled at her feet in response. It bloomed. Her body remembered what her mind did not.

Time passed quietly. Then—

“You’re here.”

The voice behind her was soft, warm, threaded with quiet amusement. Liz turned.

There, leaning against the doorframe, was Ezryn. A faint smile played at his lips as he took in the room.

“Look what we have here,” he said, stepping inside. “An amazing library full of ancient magic.”

Liz blinked. “You’re back?”

Ezryn strode closer, bending slightly, his handsome face now barely inches from hers. He smelled faintly of old paper and grass. She blushed, quickly lowering her gaze.

“Looks like you didn’t have to use the spell in the bracelet after all,” he said.

Liz smiled faintly. “Seems like not.”

She tilted the book toward him. “Where are the others?”

Ezryn straightened, folding his arms. “Lirael’s still exploring the forest. As for Kael—” he shrugged, “—probably off brooding somewhere. Or sulking over something.”

His eyes dropped to the book in her hands.

“You can use magic?” he asked, curiosity lighting his tone. “Earth element?”

Liz gave a quiet nod. “Apparently, yes… even though I don’t remember anything before waking up.”

Ezryn’s smile gentled. “Maybe that’s a good thing. This place—whatever it is—it might help you trace back your memories. And… we don’t know what dangers still lie in this forest. It’s good you can at least defend yourself.”

Liz looked up sharply. “There’s no danger here. The forest is safe.”

Ezryn chuckled and flicked her forehead lightly with one finger. “There you go again—claiming how safe it is like you weren’t trapped here for gods-know how long.” His eyes softened. “Just… be cautious, alright? And if you want help with those spells, I’m here.”

Liz chuckled despite herself. Her laugh was light, and something in it caught Ezryn off guard. His expression flickered, as if surprised to hear it.

The two stayed in the quiet library for hours after that—pages turning, magic gently blooming between them, and something unspoken beginning to take root.