Chapter 3 Mallow Flowers

Elora 

We ride hard toward the castle along the familiar forest path, each of us carrying a bundle of SilverRoot tied securely to our saddles. Stevie rides a little ahead of me, turning in her saddle every so often like she can’t stop herself from checking on all of us. Her long, blonde braid flips every time she turns around. 

“Look over there,” she says suddenly, pointing off to the side of the path.

We slow down, and I follow her gaze into a patch of open ground where wildflowers grow in thick clusters along the edge of the trees. Soft, pale blooms sway gently in the wind, their petals a bright mauve color.  

Stevie’s expression softens. “Those look like the color of your fur when you shift.”

I glance at her, then back at the flowers. She isn’t wrong. In wolf form, my coat carries that same muted blend of mauve and cream. I feel something pulling me to the plants. Perhaps they can help in some way. 

Jamie slows beside us, her auburn curls bouncing against her back as she rides the chestnut mare we call Fauna. “We’re supposed to get this SilverRoot back fast,” she says, though there’s no real bite in her voice. “But those are pretty. Do you think Gia can use them?”

Bobbi leans forward in her saddle. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. I’ve seen them used on the battlefield when someone is hurt badly.” Her blue eyes shine like sapphires against her pale skin, and I think I see a tear at the corner of her eye. It has already been a cruel day.

I hop down from my saddle just as Toni reaches us. “It won’t hurt to gather a few if they’re useful,” she says. 

I move toward the patch of flowers as if something is pulling me in. They smell like blackberry pie. The air here is cooler under the trees, shaded and still. I kneel carefully among the blooms, brushing my fingers over the petals. They are softer than they look, delicate in a way that makes me hesitate before I pick the first stem.

Stevie watches from her horse. “Elora?”

“I’m sorry,” I say without looking up. “I’ll hurry.” 

I gather several stems, choosing only the healthiest ones, the ones that feel strongest beneath my touch. The color pulls at me more than I expect, as if it recognizes me in return.

I think of the young people back at the castle infirmary. I think of their faces, of the urgency in Gia’s voice when she sent us out for the SilverRoot. I don’t let myself think beyond that. I just keep gathering, hoping that whatever we bring back will be enough.

When I finally return to the horse, I tuck the flowers carefully into my pack beside the SilverRoot. We push on, faster now, the castle rising in the distance. 

When we arrive at the infirmary, it’s quieter than I remember. The usual controlled urgency is gone, replaced by something heavier. 

Gia is cleaning her tools at the sink when we enter, and her eyes find me immediately.

“Elora… uh, did you find much?” she asks, her voice shaking. 

I hand off the SilverRoot without speaking. Gia’s sky-blue eyes stay on mine, and I break eye contact long enough to glance around the room before returning to her solemn face.

“Why is no one helping them anymore?” I ask. 

The healers are cleaning and putting things away, but not one of them is rushing to take the SilverRoot or try to wake the victims.

She takes me gently by the arm and leads me a few steps away from the group. “They didn’t make it,” she says quietly.

For a moment, I don’t understand the words. They don’t land properly at first, like my mind refuses to translate them into meaning. And when they do, I gasp. 

Gia continues, softer now. “We did everything we could.”

I fight back tears. “Was it my fault? Did the SilverRoot arrive too late for them?”

“No, no,” Gia assures me. “The SilverRoot wouldn’t have helped anyway. The spell was far stronger than we understood at first.” 

I gaze around the infirmary, like I might see something different if I just look long enough. 

Suddenly, I remember that my sister and friends are behind me. I don’t want them to find out that we didn’t make it back in time. They’ll blame themselves.

I turn and look at them. “Please, take the horses back to the stables, and go home,” I say quietly. “I’ll explain later.”

“Are you sure, Elora?” Stevie asks. 

“Please,” I add. 

They leave through the infirmary doors, and I turn back to Gia. 

“Is that mallow you brought too?” she asks. 

I look down at the flowers still tucked in my pack, take them out, and hand them to her. 

“Ah, yes. Mallow—carries healing,” Gia continues. “But also love and protection. All lovely things tied to the connection between life and what lies beyond it.”

My throat tightens. “Can it help them?”

Gia’s face falls. “They’re gone, Elora.”

I nod because it’s the only thing I can manage.

Then she steps closer, lowering her voice. “There is something else we could try,” she says.

“What is it? I’ll get you anything you need.”

“If you want to bring them back,” she says, “there is only one known path. You would need to reach Roseveil before the full moon in three days. They have Lunaris Requiem,” she continues. “It can return what has been lost, but it is not kept freely. And Roseveil is not safe right now. War is spreading through LotusMoon, and you’ll have to travel through it to get to Roseveil. Travel will not be simple. Do you know the way?” 

“I do,” I reply. “I’ve been through on trading missions. I’ll get a team. We can leave tonight.” 

Gia studies me again, more sharply this time. “Elora… the Alpha may not agree to send more warriors. Nightwing can’t afford to be weak. Warriors must remain here.”

“I need to speak with the Alpha,” I say.

She exhales. “You may request an audience, but I doubt Alpha King Leoric will send more troops north, especially with both of his sons gone.” 

“I still have to try,” I say quietly. “Thank you, Gia, for everything you’ve taught me, and for everything you’ve done.”

Gia nods. “And thank you, Elora, for your bravery. I know you can accomplish anything you set your mind to.”

I nod. “I’m going to try to speak with the Alpha King now.”

“May the Moon Goddess be with you, my dear,” she says as I turn and leave the infirmary.

When I get back to the main part of the castle, a maid passes me in the corridor, and I stop her.

“I need to speak to the head servant,” I say. “Could you point me in the right direction?”

She nods quickly. “Follow me.”

I follow her through the castle until we find the head servant overseeing the staff in the dining hall.

Master Corbin stands tall and is sharply dressed in the silver and blue of Nightwing’s household service. His silver-streaked hair is pulled back neatly, and his sharp eyes miss nothing as he directs two servants on how to set the dining table. He looks like someone who has managed chaos long enough to make it appear orderly.

When I approach, he bows immediately.

“My lady,” Corbin says. “How may I assist you?”

“I am requesting an audience with Alpha King Leoric,” I say.

His expression changes to shock, surprise, and then back to focused. 

“Of course,” he replies. “Follow me.”

He leads me through the quieter corridor reserved for petitions and waiting audiences, away from the dining hall’s movement and sound. At the end is a formal waiting chamber with high-backed chairs and stone walls lined with carved insignias of Nightwing’s history.

“You may wait here,” he says.

“Thank you,” I say, and he leaves.

I sit nervously, my mind circling everything Gia told me—the young people have died. Roseveil. Lunaris Requiem. Three days before the full moon.

Convincing the King will not be easy. Not now. Not with both of his sons gone and the Nightwing reserves already stretched thin. Still, I know I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t try.