Epilogue I ‒ The Flower That Bloomed in Virelia
Epilogue I ‒ The Flower That Bloomed in Virelia
The forest pressed in from all sides — tangled, quiet, alive. Summer mist hung low over damp ferns and gnarled roots, and not even the birds dared break the hush for long. Deep within that emerald maze stood a crooked hut, hunched beneath a canopy of vines. Moss crept up the timber walls. Smoke curled from a cracked chimney. Outside, a few wooden dummies leaned like drunks beside rusting helmets and an old training spear.
Inside, firelight danced across the walls. A pot simmered quietly, filling the air with the scent of herbs and root vegetables. Prince Theodore, dressed in humble robes, sat cross-legged on a faded rug. Nyelisse leaned back on a stool nearby, her arms crossed, her expression neutral but her presence steady. At the small table, Sir Caldus sipped from a steaming cup of tea, the lines around his eyes soft with age.
“So,” Caldus asked, breaking the quiet, “how is the Prince’s sword training coming along?”
Theodore scratched the back of his head and chuckled, a bit sheepish. “Well… I’ve been doing quite well lately, I think.”
“Quite well?” Nyelisse snorted. “Yes, just like that time you tried to do a stealth attack on [Player], and got knocked out in one hit.”
“Hey!” Theodore turned toward her, mock offended. “He was really strong! Even you got taken out by him.”
Caldus chuckled — the deep, tired laugh of a man who had raised warriors and buried more than a few regrets. “Watching the two of you bicker brings back memories.”
He turned his gaze to Theodore, gentle but clear. “Prince, thank you for taking care of my daughter.”
“Oh, no, no—” Theodore waved his hands awkwardly. “You’re welcome, but honestly, it’s more like she takes care of me. Although she acts like that, she really tries her best to look after me. If only she was more honest about—”
“Hey!” Nyelisse snapped, leaping to her feet. Her face flushed. “How many times do I have to tell you! I’m only here because I’ve taken an oath to be your knight and protect you! Nothing else!”
“Yeah, sure,” Theodore muttered under his breath, smirking.
Nyelisse huffed and spun away, clearly grasping for a topic shift. “Father, how is the second prince’s health now?”
Caldus’s expression sobered. He set his cup down, the sound quiet but heavy. “Well… I can’t really say he’s fine. His illness is very strange. No healers, no herbalists have seen anything like it — a disease that slowly transforms your body into that of a tree. Currently, the only solution is that we keep peeling off the bark appearing on his skin—”
“Wouldn’t that hurt a lot?” Theodore asked, grimacing.
“Painful doesn’t begin to describe it,” Caldus said softly.
Nyelisse’s voice sharpened like drawn steel. “Well, he at least deserves this much for the years of assassination attempts he did against you. Seriously, if it weren’t for you, I’d have—”
Theodore gently reached out, placing his hand over hers. “But he’s still my brother, you know. No matter how much he hates me, I can’t make myself hate him.”
Nyelisse blinked, her anger dissolving into something quieter. She squeezed his hand. “You’re too kind.”
Caldus coughed deliberately, eyes darting to the fire. “Uhm… I think I should probably leave.”
Nyelisse snatched her hand back and bolted upright. “I—I’m going out for firewood.”
Theodore chuckled to himself as she exited, and Caldus rose slowly, gathering his sword from its resting place. But just as he approached the door—
Knock. Knock.
The sound was soft but strange, out of place in this remote woodland.
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“Who is it?” Caldus called, blade half-drawn.
Theodore scrambled to wrap his robe tighter around himself. Nyelisse burst back through the curtain, sword already in hand, stepping protectively in front of Theodore.
The door creaked open.
“Heya!” chirped a voice far too cheerful for the tension in the room. “I’m Cupcake Crab, the best travelling merchant in this world. May I interest you with some items?”
Caldus didn’t lower his blade. “Identify yourself. How did you come here?”
The merchant stepped forward with a cheerful shuffle, pink shell gleaming faintly in the firelight. “I already introduced myself. I’m Cupcake Crab. And I’m a travelling merchant. No place is beyond my reach.”
“If you take another step,” Caldus warned, “I’m not going to hesitate. Return to where you came from if you hold your life dear. And don’t even—”
“Eh, you don’t need to be hostile,” Cupcake Crab said, adjusting his satchel. “I’m here just due to someone’s request. You know the [Player]?”
Caldus’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand. What request would the [Player] ask of you? Tell me honestly — what are you here for?”
Cupcake Crab tilted his head. “Well in his words, I’m here to make things right.”
Theodore stepped forward. “What do you mean by that?”
The merchant didn’t blink. “Prince, don’t you want to save your younger brother?”
Nyelisse stepped in, furious. “What? You know? How?”
Theodore held out a hand. “No, wait Nyelisse. Let’s hear him out at least.”
Cupcake Crab nodded. “Have you ever heard of the flower called Chrysopteryxiella Umbrosynth?”
---
In the imperial palace, silence had taken on a heavier shape.
Queen Mireille sat at the bedside of her younger son, Prince Lucien. Her eyes were shadowed and sleepless. Her fingers trembled as they hovered above his frail body.
Lucien’s skin was pale and ashen, cracked in places where bark had begun to grow. Vines slithered across his neck like roots seeking soil. He coughed suddenly — dark, rotten blood staining the sheets. The Queen didn’t flinch. She simply reached out and held his hand.
“Your Majesty,” a voice called softly from the doorway. “The herbalist has arrived. Shall I—”
“Just send her in,” Mireille said, her voice flat with exhaustion.
Lira entered with careful steps and bowed low. “Your Majesty, I… I just wanted to inform you that I’m still searching for the cure… but for now, I can only administer this pain-relieving potion. It’s called Morning Sunshine.”
She moved quickly, gently lifting Lucien’s chin and pouring the amber liquid into his mouth. The prince’s coughing eased. His breath slowed. He drifted into sleep.
Lira was just turning to leave when hurried footsteps echoed behind her.
“Your Majesty,” the attendant said, panting. “The Crown Prince— I mean, the first Prince has returned to the palace. Sir Caldus found him hidden in the forests. He wants to meet you—”
“I don’t care anymore,” Mireille whispered, not looking away from Lucien. “Just send him away and tell him to continue living in the woods—”
“Pardon for the interruption,” the attendant pressed, “but the first Prince said… he has the item that can cure Prince Lucien.”
Her head turned sharply.
“What?” she said. “Then send him in immediately!”
Theodore entered, still robed, Nyelisse close behind.
“Greetings, Your Majesty. Do not worry, I’ll just hand over the cure and leave immed—”
“I do not care for that,” Mireille snapped. “Do you really have the cure?”
Nyelisse stepped forward. “Yes, Your Majesty. We do possess the item which can be used to cure him. But we must first process it according to this recipe.”
The Queen turned, waving sharply. “Hey, Lira-Lila, what was your name — see what recipe they brought. Tell me if you can make that cure. I’ll pay you any amount of gold.”
Lira jumped to attention. “Yes! Yes, Your Majesty! I’ll get it done as soon as possible!”
Theodore handed over the flower and scroll. Lira took them with trembling hands, eyes wide. She gestured for the two to follow her.
---
They spent the next hours in Lira’s cramped apothecary. Firelight glowed beneath the cauldron. The smell of arcane herbs and molten glass filled the air.
Finally, Lira raised a single vial to the light — a clear radiant pink elixir, shimmering faintly.
“The [Purification Essence] is ready,” she whispered.
---
But as they returned to the palace, two figures stood at the entrance.
“Halt,” barked Lord Sylas. “How do we know the apparent cure you’ve brought isn’t some kind of poison meant to harm our Crown Prince Lucien?”
Nyelisse’s glare sharpened. “Hey! Our first Prince is not like you or the treacherous second Prince who have been trying to harm the first Prince for so many years.”
Sylas sneered. “That’s exactly why it’s more suspicious for you to bring a cure for an illness that no one in the kingdom or even the outside world has heard of. How are we supposed to belie—”
“Enough!” Theodore’s voice rang out. “Even if I’m no longer the Crown Prince, I still am the first Prince. You have no authority to bar my entry. Move. I must give this cure to my brother — to save him.”
Baldwin curled his lip. “You were no longer the prince ever since you decided to run away with that pathetic knight of yours.”
Nyelisse moved before he could blink.
Her blade flashed like lightning.
Baldwin, standing atop the stair, stumbled backward — a line of blood beading along his cheek. He toppled down with a panicked shout. Nyelisse sheathed her blade.
“Move.”
Her voice was calm. Icy. Unignorable.
Baldwin scrambled out of her path. Theodore walked forward, unbothered. Behind them, Sylas helped Baldwin up.
“What do we do now?” Baldwin hissed.
Sylas narrowed his eyes. “No way they actually have the cure. He’s bluffing. Just wants to sneak back into the palace.”
“But what if they somehow succeed?”
Sylas’s face darkened.
“Then we’ll have some more work to do.”