The path they walked turned narrow, winding beneath twisted canopies where no sunlight reached. The air grew colder, the forest's whispers turning into mournful hums. Elara clutched her arms, eyes flicking toward the shadows. Every root, every creak of a branch above, felt like a voice speaking in riddles she couldn't yet understand.
Sae-Myung walked in silence, her steps soundless, her presence oddly comforting despite the growing gloom. Her long robe trailed behind her like smoke. In her hands, she held a lantern made of bone and crystal, its flame flickering with violet light.
"Elara," she said finally. "Where we are going… it is sacred. Few are permitted to enter."
"Because of my mother?" Elara asked, her voice hushed.
Sae-Myung nodded. "Because of what she was. And what she became."
The narrow path gave way to a sheer stone cliff, slick with moss and carved with ancient symbols. Before them, the mouth of a cavern loomed — wide, black, and pulsing faintly with pale blue light that leaked from deep within.
Sae-Myung held the lantern higher. "This is the Moonroot Cavern. Your mother's resting place."
Elara felt her legs weaken as she stepped forward. The air here was thick — not just with cold, but with memory. Every breath she took was like inhaling grief.
Inside the cave, the light from the lantern scattered across walls lined with silver vines that moved ever so slightly, like veins pulsing with distant life. The deeper they walked, the colder it became, until Elara could see her breath in the air. Her fingers ached from the chill.
Then they reached it.
A circular chamber, vast and quiet, with a domed ceiling of crystalline stone. In the center, resting on a platform of carved marble, was a figure.
Elara gasped.
A woman lay there — perfectly still, as if asleep. Her long silver hair fanned around her like a halo, and her robes shimmered faintly under the cave's light. Her face, though serene, was marked by faint cracks of glowing blue, like veins of shattered glass across porcelain.
Elara stepped forward, breath trembling. "She… she looks just like in the vision."
Sae-Myung set the lantern down and knelt beside the platform. "Han'Lia. The last Guardian of Chheonhwa. Your mother."
Elara knelt slowly, her fingers brushing the edge of the stone. "Is she… alive?"
"Her body lives. Her spirit is fractured. What you see is a shell held together by ancient magic."
Elara looked into the woman's face, longing tugging at her chest. "Can she hear me?"
Sae-Myung's voice was soft. "Perhaps. Sometimes… I believe she listens. In dreams. In the echoes of this place."
"Why did he do this?" Elara whispered. "Why would the King hurt her?"
Sae-Myung closed her eyes. "He wanted what she guarded. The Chheonhwa — the flower of life. Not just a blossom, but a source of pure creation magic. When Han'Lia refused to yield it, he tore it from her by force."
Elara's fingers curled into fists. "He… ripped it out of her?"
"Yes," Sae-Myung said darkly. "And in doing so, severed her soul from her body. The Chheonhwa is bound to its Guardian. Without it, she cannot awaken."
Elara looked again at the sleeping woman — at the faint glow beneath her skin, at the thin vines that curled protectively around her. "So he stole the flower… and now what? He wears it?"
"In a way." Sae-Myung stood. "The King embedded the Chheonhwa's core into his own essence. A reckless, forbidden act. It granted him eternal youth — but at a price. The flower resists him. It does not bloom for him as it did for your mother."
"Then… can I take it back?"
"You must," Sae-Myung said. "Only a true heir of Han'Lia can reclaim the Chheonhwa. It knows your blood. It might yet respond."
Elara stood slowly, eyes still fixed on her mother. "How? He's a king. How do I even get close enough?"
"You must go where he cannot suspect you," Sae-Myung said. "Into the palace. As a servant. A shadow among the silks. And from within, learn the truth of his court. Find where he keeps the flower. And survive."
Elara swallowed hard. "That's... dangerous."
"It is," Sae-Myung said with no softness in her tone. "But it is the only way."
Elara reached out, hesitating — then gently laid her fingers against her mother's hand. It was cold, yet pulsing faintly. A shimmer of light danced along the contact point, and for a heartbeat, Elara saw a vision.
A meadow of stars. Her mother laughing. Singing. Holding her as an infant wrapped in glowing leaves.
Then it vanished.
Elara pulled back, tears in her eyes. "I saw her again…"
"She remembers," Sae-Myung said. "Even broken, a mother's heart cannot forget."
Elara turned, jaw set. "Then I'll do it. I'll go to the palace. I'll get close to him. I'll take it back."
Sae-Myung studied her. "You will need a name. A role. A lie that shields the truth."
"Then help me build that lie," Elara said. "Make me someone who can survive in his world."
Sae-Myung nodded solemnly. "Then we begin tonight."
As they left the chamber, Elara looked back one last time at the still form of her mother. Not lifeless — but waiting.
I'll bring you back, she thought. No matter what it takes.
Behind her, the cave hummed softly — a lullaby without words, echoing through time.