The golden flowers had been blooming for three years.
They had spread across the Divide like a gentle tide, their petals shimmering with the warm light that had once filled the Wellspring. They didn't demand. They didn't seduce. They just offered their presence, and people chose whether to accept it or not. Lena had grown accustomed to their quiet companionship. She visited the crater every morning, sitting among the blooms, listening to their silent song.
But this morning was different.
She woke with a start, her heart pounding. The dream had been vivid—a voice she didn't recognize, speaking words she couldn't understand. The flowers were silent. The golden light that had always pulsed with gentle warmth was still. Cold.
She ran to the crater. Lyra was already there, her golden glow f
