“The school rejected all their demands,” Reyes continued.
That’s not surprising, thought Kunon. He had heard Dirashik spurned almost all political interference, and that seemed to be true.
This was Gray Rouva’s domain, and the witch had single-handedly protected the city from invasion for many long years. She wasn’t going to give up the Kira Vera, no matter how much the Holy Kingdom wanted it. Not even an enormous sum of money would convince her.
“Saint Lance expected that response, however. They gave up on asking for the Kira Vera and instead provided a variety of seeds for sacred herbs, a divine flower, and more, and asked the school to try growing them in the forest.”
“Whoa, that’s generous.”
Kunon was surprised the Holy Kingdom was willing to share such valuable seeds. He was especially taken aback to hear they’d offered up a divine flower.
Sacred herbs were rare, but you could obtain them by going to a land where they were grown. Divine flowers, however, were different. They were a mythical plant as rare as Kira Vera. Most people would go a lifetime without seeing one.
“Professor Sureyya and Professor Keevan planted those seeds over the summer.”
“They did?!”
Kunon felt a surge of excitement. He had told Reyes he wanted to accompany her on instinct, but this was sounding even more fun than he’d expected.
“What happened? Did they grow? Have you seen the divine flower? Have you observed it? Also, you’re just as attractive as ever today. What’s the secret to your beauty?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
Was that in response to my questions about the plants, Kunon wondered, or about the secret to her beauty?
If Kunon had planted those seeds, he would have gone to observe them every day. This was a rare opportunity to document the growth of some very interesting plants, and he wasn’t about to pass it up.
Professors Sureyya and Keevan were surely doing as he would have done. They loved vegetation even more than Kunon did, after all. There was no way they weren’t looking after such rare specimens.
“I was told the herbs disappeared from the place they were planted.”
“Huh?” Kunon was baffled. How could that have happened? “That sounds like a problem…”
They had planted the precious seed of a divine flower and lost it. The sacred herbs weren’t an issue—they could always buy more of them. Divine flowers were another story. They were so rare that for most people, they existed only in ancient texts, myths, and fairy tales.
“Yes, it is. Hence why I am going to search for them.”
The lack of expression on her face made it look like she was going out for an ordinary stroll. Perhaps this was how she expressed panic. She was, after all, aware of the gravity of the situation. But to Kunon, she seemed as calm as ever.
“Aww, that’s too bad.”
Kunon followed the Saint to the edge of the forest, but when they found Professor Sureyya and Professor Keevan, they did not give him permission to accompany them.
“This is a mysterious forest in which plants are disappearing and moving without explanation,” they said. “It could be dangerous for anyone without a light or an earth attribute.”
The teachers rejected him for his own safety. Students couldn’t be allowed into the forest when the mystery of the Kira Vera was yet to be solved—that was the magic school’s stance.
Sureyya and Keevan gave Reyes permission to accompany them because she was a light magic user and a saint. They thought she might be able to help them find the missing sacred herbs and the divine flower.
The forest would probably be opened to all students one day, but that was still a ways off.
“Oh well. Search with extra zeal for my sake, Miss Reyes,” said Kunon.
“Understood. I will give it my all.”
With her divine farming tools in hand, the Saint disappeared into the forest with the two teachers. Kunon saw them off—even though he couldn’t see them—and began to walk back the way he’d come.
“A divine flower, huh?”
Somewhere in that forest, a mythical plant might be sprouting. Just imagining it excited him. He hoped the others would find it.
Little did he know, Saint Reyes was about to go missing for a number of days.