“I…” I keep my eyes on Julian’s book in front of me.
This is what I know. This is what the Rowan omegas are best at. Only, we like to do it quietly. No glory. As little attention as possible.
“Elowen?” Professor Robbins is studying me intently. “Is this something you would like to help with?”
“I have chamomile tea.” Seraphina waves the packet in the air, and my cheeks grow even hotter. “I’m happy to do all the running around.” Her smile is eager. Hopeful.
“Okay.” I nod. “Sure, I would love to help.”
I only hope I’ve learned enough from Mira not to let people down.
11
ELOWEN
The next morning,the letter arrives folded once, then again. Mira's handwriting is careful but unhurried, the ink slightly darker where the pen paused, thinking before continuing. I recognize that rhythm as easily as I recognize the scent of juniper in her blends.
I don't open it right away.
Instead, I set it beside my kettle and finish preparing the herbs I collected yesterday. The mugwort and yarrow hang drying near the window now, tied with twine, their scent faint but grounding. I label each bundle before turning to the letter.
Only when everything is in its place do I sit.
The paper is warm from the sun.
Elowen,
I just want you to know I see the shape of your days changing lately, now that you’ve discovered the greenhouse. That kind of shift doesn't happen by accident, little one. It’s a well-trodden path.
I've been thinking about Asha lately.
The name settles inside me like a stone dropped into water.
My great-great-grandmother. The one whose stories were never passed down through quiet evenings and careful voices.
She was never meant to stay where she was placed.Everyone expected her to choose safety. Structure. A single path.
She didn't.
She chose attention instead.
I close my eyes.
Asha left her pack, not out of rebellion, but because the shape of what she needed didn't exist yet. So she built it herself. Slowly. With care. With people who understood restraint as respect, not denial.
Mira never told the story like a warning.
She told it like permission.
If your body begins to speak more loudly in the coming daysremember this: biology is information, not instruction. You don't owe meaning to anyone before you decide what it is.
I'm enclosing a blend you already know. You'll recognize the ratios. Drink it when you need steadiness, not silence.
I unfold the final page.
And Elowen?—
You do not have to choose the expected path just because it is well-lit. Our lineage never did.
