The Wolf ran away… just like that.

Tessa lunges to follow, but her legs buckle mid-step. She stumbles forward, collapsing hard, face first into the dirt.

"Tessa!" I shout, already hovering toward her, spines trembling from the aftershock.

She lifts her head weakly, eyes unfocused, her breath ragged. "He's there," she whispers, voice cracking. "I can see it—he saw me!"

"I know, Tess, but it's dangerous!" I reach her side, trying to steady her with my telekinesis, but she's shaking too much. "Especially when you're in this state!"

"He's there," she insists again, hands clawing into the soil, eyes wide and glassy. "I swear—I saw him. He looked at me!"

A groan comes from behind us.

Morven.

He's on one knee, trembling, his whole body twitching like a broken puppet trying to move. The cracking of shifting bones echoes through the clearing, wrong and rhythmic.

"Morv—hey, don't—"

He lifts his head, pale eyes flickering between lucidity and static. "Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't." His voice is rough, gravel scraped against glass.

"Morven, you literally took the worst of it," I snap. "You were point-blank. Stay down. Don't force yourself like that."

He steadies himself, blood—or whatever passes for blood in him—dripping from his hand. "As much as I'd love to, I have to tell you something." He turns his gaze toward Tessa, expression grim. "When I tried to extract the gem from your uncle's chest…"

He pauses, his fingers twitching involuntarily. "…I sensed something."

As Morven tries to steady himself, his knees wobble—and then he just… tips over. Face-first.

The sound he makes is somewhere between a grunt and a wet thud.

Me and Tessa stare at him for a solid second. Then, in perfect unison, we both rush toward him.

"Morven!"

He's still conscious, barely, eyes half-lidded, his limbs twitching like his body forgot how to coordinate. I hover close, spines still buzzing with leftover mana. "Is the concept of pain alien to you, or what?"

He lets out a low, broken chuckle. "Pain…" He exhales sharply, his chest rising slow, uneven. "I almost forgot what that felt like…"

Then his gaze flickers, unfocused, as though he's looking through me. "Until I glanced at the gem earlier."

I pause. "What do you mean?"

He doesn't answer right away—just stares at his trembling hand, faint traces of violet light pulsing under his skin. "It wasn't just power I felt in that thing," he murmurs. "It was memory."

"Well no shit, Morv," I say, exasperated. "You do that every time anyway."

Tessa, still half-leaning on me, groans and waves a paw. "Yeah, stop being all 'I'm fourteen and this is deep' and just tell us already!"

Morven lets out a low, strained laugh that turns into a cough. "Ah… the two of you really know how to ruin a dramatic pause."

"Yeah, yeah, we're real good at it," I shoot back. "Now talk before your philosophical nonsense turns into actual nonsense."

He exhales, the faint violet glow in his veins pulsing once more. "What I felt," he says slowly, "wasn't just a presence controlling him. It was… layered. My fragment was piggybacked. Someone—or something—used it as a tether to reach inside him."

Tessa blinks. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning," Morven mutters, eyes half-closed, "that whoever's behind this didn't just make your uncle a puppet. They're using me as the strings."

Then a voice cuts through the air—smooth, teasing, and carrying that slow curl of smugness that makes my spines itch.

"Is that so, darling?"

Ugh. I know that voice. I hate that I know that voice.

A low tremor runs through the soil, and something begins to sprout beside us—roots, petals, and shimmering motes of golden pollen curling upward in a graceful spiral. In seconds, the form takes shape: towering, elegant, unmistakable.

Velith.

Her eyes gleaming with that familiar mix of amusement and danger. "My, my," she says, voice lilting. "You three look like you've been through a rather explosive reunion."

Before I can even open my mouth, two voices ring out from the distance—high-pitched and relieved.

"Big Sister Velith!"

Thalyss and Syralis are practically sprinting toward us, petals and roots kicking up dust.

Velith sighs, hand on her hip, though there's a small smile tugging at her lips. "And there go my dear little troublemakers…"

Tessa mutters under her breath, "Oh great, family reunion: flora edition."

Thalyss is the first to reach us, her vines still twitching from the earlier fight. "Big Sister, what are you doing here?" she snaps, half out of breath.

Syralis slows behind her, far more composed. "Weren't you at your garden, dealing with those spectral wolves?"

Velith's smile widens, sweet and knowing. "Awhhh, my little darling sisters," she coos, brushing stray petals from Thalyss's shoulder. "Indeed, I was. But there wasn't much of a ruse to maintain, and I've left it to dear Vyrithia to handle the rest."

Thalyss rolls her eyes with a sharp scoff. "Tch. Always her."

Velith's tone turns silky, though there's a glint in her gaze. "Well, she does take her work seriously, unlike certain thorny little sister of mine who treat life as a sport."

Thalyss folds her arms. "Yeah, yeah. Save the sass for someone who didn't just almost get eaten."

Velith chuckles, clearly entertained. "Oh, I'd never sass. I nurture, dear."

I can't help muttering under my breath, "Yeah, nurture with a side of homicide."

Velith surveys the scene with slow, deliberate grace—eyes gliding across the ruined clearing. Burned petals, singed roots, deep claw marks carved through the soil. The air still hums with leftover mana, thick and uneasy. A few younger flora monsters peek out from the wreckage, trembling and half-buried under their own damaged vines.

She exhales softly, almost like a sigh. "Goodness… look what happened here.."

I hover a little higher, spines rattling in fatigue. "Well,areI start, "long story short—but apparently someone or something decided to use my friend's uncle as a meat puppet. They did that by hijacking a piece of my other friend's soul-chunk-thing idk. So yeah. Associates."

Velith blinks once, twice. "...Associates," she repeats, like sare's trying to make the word fit the disaster in front of her.

Morven, still on the ground, lifts a finger weakly. "Technically, fragment, not chunk."

"Thank you, walking contradiction," I mutter.

Tessa groans beside me. "Can we not make this sound like a family soap opera?"

Velith hums thoughtfully, her expression flattening into that calm, dangerous neutrality I've learned means she's thinking about murder—or pruninga . "Controlled… through a fragment of him, you say?"

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"Yup," I answer. "Straight from the horsekindmouth—or whatever the hell Morven qualifies as."

Morven wheezes. "Homunculus. We've been over this."

Velith's eyes darken slightly, her petals fluttering. "That's… troubling. Vera y trogottentefeelinging indeed."

Thalyss crosses her arms, huffing. "Could've just killed it though," she mutters, glaring at the spot where the wolf vanished into the forest.

Syralis turns on her, eyes narrowing. "Come on, Thalyss—they helped us, didn't they?"

Thalyss's vine whigottentententententenagfeelingund with a sharp crack. "Yeah, and we saved their asses at the end too, remember?"

Syralis's petals flare faintly gold as she steps closer. "That's because the howl headed our way too! If we didn't step in, you'd be fertilizer right now!"

"Oh please," Thalyss snaps back, leaning in. "You think I needed your cherry-blossom karaoke to finish that mutt off?"

Their voices rise, petals shaking, mana practically crackling in the air between them. I can feel it—like a thunderstorm made of ego and sibling rivalry.

I glance at Tessa, who's half-kneeling and still catching her breath. "So," I say, voice flat, "is this normal for them?"

Tessa squints through her exhaustion. "I don't know. You tell me—you're the one who called them 'functional society participants' before.'"

I sigh. "Big mistake on my part."

Velith lets the argument play out for a few seconds — just long enough for Thalyss's vines to tense and Syralis's petals to start glowing. Then, with the softest chuckle, she steps between them.

"Now, now, my little blooms," she says, her tone light but threaded with something that stops the air cold. "Must you really wilt my ears with such noise?"

Instantly, both sisters freeze.

Thalyss's vines go slack, and Syralis's glow fades, though neither dares look directly at her.

Velith smiles — a slow, indulgent smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "You both did wonderfully, truly. The battlefield sings of your effort, but perhaps next time you might focus less on bickering and more on not making me come all the way here to clean up the mess, hm?"

"Y-yes, Big Sister," Syralis murmurs, bowing her head.

Thalyss grumbles under her breath, "We weren't fighting, we were—"

Velith raises a single finger.

Thalyss stops mid-sentence, scowling at the dirt.

"That's my good thorns," Velith purrs, brushing her hands together as if dusting pollen. The tension drains from the clearing in seconds — even the air feels lighter, though her authority lingers like perfume and poison.

I mutter quietly to Tessa, "Remind me to never make her mad."

Velith, without looking, replies, "Too late for that, dear."

I freeze. She heard that.

Velith turns her attention back to us, her tone shifting from playful to businesslike in an instant. Her eyes sweep over the wreckage again before settling on me, then Morven, who's still half-sprawled on the ground like a broken marionette.

"Now," she says, voice smooth as silk but heavy enough to make my shell hum, "mind explaining to me what's going on?"

Morven, ever the masochist, tries to straighten his posture. His limbs tremble, the sound of cracking glass barely hidden beneath his words. "Well, Lady Velith… that said wolf had an embedded gem in its chest."

Velith hums, tapping a finger against her chin. "Hmmm. Vithoth never mentioned anything of the sort. But go on."

Morven nods weakly, every movement stiff. "Naturally, the moment I touched it, I could sense it was a fragment—" He cuts himself off, gasping mid-sentence as his body spasms again.

Velith's sigh is soft, melodic, but laced with faint impatience. "Forgive me, dear Morven," she says, snapping her fingers lightly. "Syralis, would you be such a sweetie and mend this gentleman for me?"

Syralis bows her head at once. "Of course, Big Sister." She kneels beside Morven, petals unfolding as soft golden light spills from her hands, wrapping around his body.

Morven exhales shakily, tension leaving his frame as his cracked joints begin to realign with quiet pops. "Oh… that's disturbingly pleasant," he mutters under his breath.

Velith smirks faintly. "Good. Now you'll be able to finish your explanation without disassembling yourself mid-sentence."

"Thank you, Syralis," Morven murmurs, steadying himself as the last traces of light fade from his body. She gives a polite nod and quietly steps back beside Thalyss.

Morven braces one hand on his knee and rises, slow and deliberate, every motion still a little too mechanical. "That said fragment," he begins, his voice regaining its usual composure, "if I'm right, is a fragment of Pain. Its power magnifies through anguish, sorrow, and hatred—it feeds on those states."

Velith folds her arms, expression unreadable.

"But that's beside the point," Morven continues. "The way the gem embedded itself into Tessa's uncle's body—it wasn't organic. It was… deliberate. Planted."

Tessa stiffens, ears flat. "You're saying… someone did this to him?"

Morven looks at her, the faint violet light in his eyes flickering. "I can't be absolutely certain," he says quietly, "but most likely, yes. When I tried to extract the fragment, there was a… resonance. I heard something—a laugh. A third voice. Besides your uncle's, and of course… my own."

The clearing falls silent for a moment. Even the air feels heavier.

Velith's gaze sharpens. "A third voice," she repeats softly. "So, someone used your fragments as anchors… and your friend's kin as vessels."

Morven nods once, his tone low. "Exactly. And whoever they are—they knew what they were doing."

Velith exhales softly, the tension leaving her shoulders in a single elegant motion. "Oh, well," she says with that lilting, honeyed tone of hers, "that's good. So you're not directly involved, then. Merely caught in the cruel little string of fate."

There's an edge of amusement in her voice, but the way her eyes linger on Morven tells me she was ready for a very different kind of response.

I tilt my head, suspicious. "So… what would've happened if we were directly involved?"

Velith's lips curl into that slow, dangerous smile—the kind that makes the petals around her rustle like they know what's coming. She leans forward just slightly, her voice dropping into a tone that's half purr, half promise.

"Oh, I'd have handled you myself," she says, letting the words hang, "carefully, intimately, and for a very… long time."

A shiver goes down my spine, though not the pleasant kind.

Tessa whispers beside me, "I can't tell if she means kill us or—"

"Kill," I mutter. "Definitely kill."

Velith straightens again, a small, knowing smirk playing at her lips. "Good. Then we understand each other."

"So," Velith says, brushing a stray vine from her shoulder, her tone sliding back into that poised, teasing lilt, "what are you going to do now, darlings?"

Tessa lifts her head, eyes burning with determination despite the bruises under her fur. "We're going to find my uncle, of course! And whoever's doing this to him—we'll find them too!"

Velith tilts her head, the faintest trace of amusement tugging at her lips. "My, such energy. How delightfully reckless."

Tessa's tail flicks. "That's called motivation."

Velith chuckles, her gaze softening just slightly. "Motivation indeed… though you might want to temper it with a little direction." She gestures eastward, her long, petal-lined arm cutting through the smoke and mana haze. "That kin of yours—your dear, broken uncle—he's headed toward the Eastern Territory."

"Eastern?" I echo. "As in—"

Velith nods. "As in not mine, of course. A pity, really. It's rather… untamed."

Morven mutters under his breath, "Untamed, coming from her, is concerning."

Velith's smile sharpens at that. "Oh, it is, dear. Even I avoid taking root there. The monsters is wild, the mana heavier, and the creatures… less inclined toward conversation."

Tessa clenches her fists. "That won't stop us."

Velith hums, a melodic sound that borders between fondness and mockery. "Oh, I never said it should. I'm merely saying—if you go there, you'd best be ready to learn what untamed truly means."

Velith does that impossible thing she does—splitting neatly down the middle, her halves regrowing into two smaller, identical versions. They stand poised, pulsing faintly with her gold-crimson light, both carrying that same regal, dangerous calm.

"I'll send a part of me with you," she says, her voice harmonizing from both forms. "Not the whole bloom—just a piece. Think of it as company. It can do about thirty-five percent of what I can, give or take. And a warning—if that kin of yours crosses my path again, I won't hesitate. He's taken too much already."

Her tone softens—barely. "But I won't stop, nor condemn, whatever choice you make."

Damn have you ever got the feelling of Deja Vu

Tessa squares her shoulders, fire dim but steady. "I… understand. I'll strike him myself if I have to."

"Good." Velith turns her gaze toward her sisters. "Thalyss, Syralis—you two will tend to things from here. Reinforce the border, keep watch for any spectral stragglers, and for heaven's sake, try not to argue in front of guests."

Thalyss scoffs. "Tch. Always giving orders." Syralis bows instead. "We'll take care of it, Big Sister."

Velith nods approvingly, then straightens, the air around her shifting as petals spiral upward. "As for me," she says, her voice gaining that faint, weighty resonance again, "I'm heading to the surface. I want to see what's stirring up there—someone's been tugging threads that reach far below, and it reeks of more than simple chaos. Something's not right."

Thalyss and Syralis both stiffen. "You're going up?" Syralis asks. Velith smiles faintly. "Only for a while. The surface has been too quiet; I don't trust quiet."

She turns back to us then, the smaller version of herself stepping closer, luminous and elegant. "Oh, speaking of the surface—if any of you plan to go there after this whole ordeal, find me."

Her smile widens just a touch. "I'd hate for you to wander into the wrong garden without an invitation."

I sigh, rubbing the edge of my shell as if that'll help the pounding in my head. "Alright, fine," I mutter. "We'll take the offer, I guess."

Velith's smile turns slow, dangerous. "Mmm, I do enjoy when someone knows how to accept a lady's generosity…" Her tone slides like silk, and for a split second, I'm very aware that she means logistics.

"Velith," I deadpan. "Please. There are minors here."

Tessa snorts. "I'm not a minor."

"You act like one," I shoot back.

Velith laughs—a deep, amused purr that ripples through the air. "Well, darlings, I'll leave you to your… adventures." She gestures lazily toward her smaller self, the duplicate hovering a step behind me. "She'll represent me. Do be gentle; she's shy when she's new."

Thalyss rolls her eyes, already turning away. Syralis bows politely. "We'll keep the western borders safe, Big Sister."

"Good girls," Velith says, brushing their cheeks affectionately before turning her attention back to me. "Oh, and before I go…"

She pauses, smiling like she's about to drop a secret. "Your guest has been waiting for a while now, little cocoon."

I blink. "My what? What do you mean by—"

A voice cuts through, low and quiet, from right beside me.

"Hello... Kin..."

I turn—slowly.

And there it is.

A tall, black Mothman standing within arm's reach, its wings folded tight around its body like a living cloak. Its presence doesn't arrive—it just exists, as if it's been there the entire time, unseen, unfelt, until it chose to be.

My senses recoil, adjusting, and for a second, my psychic field feels like it's being swallowed.

Velith chuckles, utterly unbothered by the sudden horror at our side. "Ah, yes. You four seem to have plenty to discuss. I'll leave you to it."

With that, she and her sisters dissolve into a swirl of petals and drifting pollen, leaving me, Tessa, Morven—half-stabilized—and Velith's clone standing in tense silence.

And the Mothman's gaze—dark, reflective, impossibly steady—fixed right on me.

End of Chapter 69

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