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T he decision was made. Vivienne, Lewis, Cirrus, and Commander Thorne would stay behind while Captain Garrett led the rest of the crew back to the Zephyrus . Garrett’s presence would steady morale, while Thorne’s skills were better suited for the land expedition. Cirrus estimated the tree was a half-day’s hike northwest, so they would depart at dawn, giving Enyo’s scouts ample time to watch their crew “retreat” and fall for the ruse.

As they finalized the plan, Thorne turned to Vivienne. “What else have we learned from the ruins?”

Vivienne pulled a few parchment rubbings from her satchel. “We took tracings of the carvings. While I don’t know this exact language, the characters resemble several I can read.”

Thorne’s gaze flickered with curiosity. “Miss Banner, how many languages do you know?”

She bit her cheek, thinking. “Seven… eight, including the common tongue—but I’m only fluent in five.”

Lewis sucked a breath through his teeth. “Only five ? What a slacker, Viv.” He gave her a playful wink.

Cirrus smirked. “That’s my lady.”

Lewis grimaced, a disgusted sneer on his face. “Ew, Cirrus.”

Vivienne shifted her eyes, ignoring Cirrus’ comment. “You look surprised, commander,” she taunted.

Thorne straightened his posture. “It’s important to be familiar with your crew’s skills,” he said in perfect Rückl?ndish.

Vivienne’s eyebrows shot up. “Looks like you have some skills to share,” she responded in the same tongue.

“Alright, alright,” Lewis cut in. “Enough showing off. Let’s focus.”

He unrolled the first tracing, the carving of the massive tree with robed figures running toward it.

Vivienne pointed to a symbol. “This word is similar to refuge or sanctuary . The tree likely held a religious or sanctified significance.”

She flipped to another tracing. Elandra, the goddess of love and fertility, weeping, her tears flowing across the land.

Lewis turned to the next image, tiered waterfalls feeding the rivers of Verdance.

“This one’s obvious,” Cirrus claimed.

“If it’s just about water, why the halo marks around the top of the mountain?” Thorne challenged.

Vivienne brushed the tracing with her fingertips. “The surrounding script is close to the Ellacyrian word for sanctified … or the Luxial word for sacrifice. This site could have been sacred, or a place of offering.”

Lewis laid out the final tracing. It was the most cryptic. Moon phases lined the top, the growth phases for a flower below, and, at the center, an owl.

Cirrus scoffed. “I don’t see how these things connect.”

“The moon and the owl are nocturnal,” Owen noted. “The moon and the flower follow cyclical patterns of growth and decay…”

Vivienne, Lewis, and Cirrus stared at him.

“What? You think it’s possible to speak ten languages and not read?”

Lewis frowned. “What’s stranger is the owl. They don’t live in this climate.”

Vivienne’s stomach dropped. “What if it’s not an actual owl? What if it’s the royal emblem of Fendwyr?”

Silence reigned.

“The owl and eight-pointed star became the kingdom’s sigil when Queen Metis took the throne,” Owen murmured. “For it to appear here, Fendwyrian ships would have had to sail to Verdance within the last fifty years.”

“Melodie, Dr. Mercer, estimated the bones at the ruins to be between twenty and thirty years old.” Lewis’ eyes dilated behind his spectacles. “Is anyone else freaking out about that math?”

Cirrus’ expression darkened. “Watch it, Blume. Sounds like you’re accusing the kingdom we serve of something heinous.”

Lewis shrugged. “If the shoe fits…”

A chill crept down Vivienne’s spine. She changed the subject. “These four images were carved much later than the rest of the tower.”

Cirrus narrowed his eyes. “What evidence do you have of that?”

Lewis smirked. “Well, Cici , the plant growth around the original reliefs was mature, the moisture introduced by the flora caused fractures in the stone over time. The newer ones? Untouched by nature.”

“The tools were different, too,” Vivienne added. “More precise, more advanced.”

“We’re looking at two distinct moments in time,” Thorne confirmed.

Cirrus huffed. “For something like this, do the time periods matter?”

Vivienne bristled. “Do time periods matter? Really, Cirrus? Maybe time is meaningless when you’re staring at stars, but it shapes everything else. My entire profession, my family’s legacy is rooted in the progression of time.”

Tension thickened like a storm about to break.

Lewis made a smacking sound with his lips. “How about we all breathe and focus on not dying tomorrow?”

Owen nodded. “The rest of the crew heads out tomorrow, but we’re leaving at dawn. Pack light, but smart. Thank you for your diligence, Miss Banner. Mr. Blume.” He leveled a cold glance at Cirrus but said nothing more.

* * *

Vivienne sorted through her pack, mentally noting what was salvageable after Enyo’s raid. Most of her belongings had been scattered, ruined, or stolen.

“Hey, Banns,” Cirrus interrupted, fidgeting with the hem of his tunic. “Things got a little intense today?—”

“Thanks to you ,” she lashed, not looking up. “Why did you challenge everything I said?”

He sighed. “That’s not what I was doing. I was trying to support you.”

She scoffed, shoving items into her pack. “I didn’t bring a dictionary, but I can assure you undermine and discredit mean the opposite of support.”

“I challenged you to make sure you’d thought through everything and were making the right calls. By explaining everything, everyone got to see how incredible and competent you are.”

Vivienne spun to face him, hands on her hips. “I don’t need your mind games to prove I’m competent, asshole. And even if that was your plan, you could’ve chosen literally any other way to do it.”

“I wanted you to show off. To show them how passionate you are.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to explode. I can’t believe he’s doubling down. He’s really trying to spin this. “Lewis already knows. I don’t have to prove a damn thing to Thorne. So either you were trying to get under my skin, or you don’t think I can do this. Neither of which is helpful.”

She turned back to her packing, dismissing him.

Cirrus stepped closer, his voice gentle, fingers trailing through her hair. “Banns?—”

“ Don’t. ” She yanked away. “You don’t get to invent some method or secret plan to weasel your way out of trouble after acting like an ass.”

His jaw tensed. “You think I would do that?”

She threw up her hands. “You always adjust the narrative to suit your needs.”

Cirrus let out a sharp laugh, his patience gone. “And you think your stubbornness helps anyone?”

“Viv, I brought those almanacs you—” Lewis came to an awkward halt and looked between them. “Oh, am I interrupting?”

Cirrus shot him a glare. “No. We’re finished.”

Vivienne exhaled, delivering the final blow. “We have been for years.”

Cirrus huffed and stormed past Lewis, disappearing into the camp.

Vivienne turned to Lewis, her anger subsiding. “I didn’t ask for any almanacs.”

Lewis bit his lip. “Yeah, but I’m guessing you didn’t want the entire crew sitting front-row for that disaster.”

She rubbed her temples, fighting a forming headache. “Thanks. The last thing I need is everyone thinking I’m a hothead.”

Lewis made a popping sound with his lips. “But you are a hothead…”

She shot him a playful glare. “Doesn’t mean I have to go out of my way to confirm it.”

Lewis scanned her pack. “You good for tomorrow?”

“I guess so. I’m trying to balance traveling light with actually being prepared.”

“Thorne’s handling camp gear, Cirrus has tents and navigation, I’ve got food, water, and books we might need.”

Vivienne sighed. “Are you packing anything to keep my ex from driving me insane?”

Lewis tapped his chin. “The Hevea brasiliensis tree produces an extremely sticky sap. We could glue his yapping mouth shut.”

She huffed a laugh. “I’ll keep that option in mind.”

* * *

Vivienne sat cross-legged, the charcoal tracings spread before her, their lines stark against the parchment in the fading light. She traced the images with her fingertips, the shifting moon phases, the blooming and closing flower, the owl perched at the center. None of it fit together.

Her gaze flicked to another tracing, the weeping goddess. Were her tears meant to be taken literally? Or was it symbolic of something else? The questions churned, refusing to settle.

The deepening twilight cast shadows over the tracings. The air cooled, thick with the scent of damp earth and moss. Vivienne blinked against the growing darkness, exhaustion tugging at the edges of her mind.

Still, the carvings gnawed at her thoughts, whispering their secrets just out of earshot.

Sleep found her before she found the answers.