Page 35 of Evergreen Academy (Society of Magical Botanists #1)
Chapter Thirty-Four
W hen I arrived at Evergreen Academy during the week leading up to the winter solstice, I could immediately sense that the mood in the air was different.
I entered the central vein to see students carrying large boughs of greenery. A few of the evergreen boughs were being floated through the air by the tree affinities.
Yasmin looped an arm through mine when she spotted me. “Want to make a wreath?”
“Absolutely.” We gathered supplies and got to work at one of the tables in the teahouse.
Yasmin, Coral, and Aurielle all selected fern leaves so that they could magically enhance their wreaths, but I chose the local ingredients of spruce, fir, juniper berries, and holly. I threw in some ribbons to weave through the wreath and a dainty red bow for good measure.
“Drinks, anyone?” A first-year student who was currently on Kitchen Botany rotation stopped at our table, balancing a silver platter on one hand. Glass mugs of steaming cocoa and cider emitted an enticing smell.
“Both, please,” I said, unable to decide. Yasmin laughed, and my friends each took turns selecting a drink.
“So, what all happens on the solstice?” I asked as we got to work braiding our wreaths.
“I only know what my sisters have told me,” Yasmin said. “Lots of food, of course. A speech from Professor East. Then a few other activities that shall remain a surprise for our newest magical botanist.”
“Fine,” I said, fake grumbling. “And what about the charging of the verdant shield?”
“The founders’ descendants will do that sometime between eleven and midnight. It’s a strict time frame that the founders implemented.”
“And how does it work?” I asked.
“They impart some of their magic into the original Floracantus that created the shield,” Yasmin said casually, dabbing some moss onto her ferns.
“But how ?” I hadn’t been able to find anything about it in the library books I’d read. There was so much inherent knowledge in the magical botanist community that I was missing.
“Above our magical grade, B. None of us are founders’ descendants,” Coral said.
I pressed my lips together, not satisfied by the answer, but tried to suppress my curiosity.
“Well, let’s hope whatever they do, it works, and there’s no more flickering,” Aurielle said.
We spent the next hour sipping our hot drinks and wrangling our wreaths into shape. I made mine in a petite size so that it would fit on the door of my aunt’s apartment. “What are you all doing with your wreaths?” I asked.
“We’ll hang them around here. Watch this.” Yasmin signaled to one of the tree affinities who was roaming the room.
“Leif, can you hang these for us?”
Leif lifted his hands, muttered a Floracantus, and directed their three wreaths—one by one—to hooks on the walls around the room, where they draped beautifully.
“Some students go all out and make a bunch. The school is going to be covered with these and garlands soon,” Coral said.
I smiled. I should have known that, as magical as Evergreen Academy always was, this season would be even more enchanting.
As the week went on, Coral’s words came true. The school’s campus transformed into a cozy winter wonderland, incorporating hundreds of plants of the winter season.
When the night of the winter solstice finally arrived, we joined the procession of students bundled in coats, hats, and gloves, carrying the lanterns we used for the garden parties toward the forest. Most of us had decked our heads with crowns of greenery, holly berries, and tiny pinecones.
After a fifteen-minute walk through the forest, we finally emerged in a small clearing, and I sucked in a breath.
A massive rectangular wood table was stretched out across the space, hanging lights decorating the sky above.
Charcuterie boards and hot drinks decked the expanse of the table, which was decorated with fresh greenery nestled around hundreds of votive candles.
The stars shone brightly overhead, as if they encouraged our gathering .
“It’s like Starry Night come to life,” I breathed.
“Did you know Van Gogh was supposedly tripping on absinthe when he painted that?” Coral said from my left. “They really should have had some magical botanists overseeing their production. We could have removed the psychoactive.”
“Way to ruin a perfect moment, Coral,” Aurielle said with a laugh.
We took seats on one of the long benches that spanned the tables, and I inhaled the rich smell of oranges, cinnamon, and cloves. Simmer pots were magically emitting the enchanting fragrance, even though there wasn’t a heating coil in sight.
Professor East stood and cleared his throat.
“Tonight, we celebrate the return of the light. The darkest days are over, and our plant friends will have more access to the sunlight that fuels everything we do here. Tonight, we enjoy a celebration of Midwinter’s Eve together before you each depart to spend the holidays with your families.
Take a moment to reflect on all we’ve seen, learned, and shared during this season.
” He lifted a glass, and we each raised ours in return. “To the returning of the light.”
“To the returning of the light,” everyone called out, and I joined in, warmth blooming in my chest as I said the words.
“Now, let’s eat.”