The next few weeks flew by in a blur. There were too many new things to take in, too much to learn, too much to discover. Hours felt like seconds and days like hours.

  Back in Duncliffe, Finn had dreaded every morning, dragging himself out of bed with a knot in his stomach. Now, he woke before sunrise, wide awake by 6:00 AM, driven by a restless energy that wouldn't let him stay in bed a second longer. And yet, amid all the excitement, Aine's words from his first Aether weaving lesson would not leave his mind. "

  You must learn control, or you risk becoming a conduit for forces that will control you." What was that supposed to mean?

  "Lusanology with Professor Hutchins next," Sophie announced one bright October morning as they finished breakfast. "I'll head back to my room for a minute and meet you in the gardens."

  The gardens lay beyond the Academy's main buildings, a vast expanse of terraced growing areas that stepped down the hillside toward an impressive cluster of glass greenhouses surrounded by apple, pear, and cherry orchards. The raised beds held an astonishing variety of plants, some of which Finn recognized and others completely alien, with leaves that shimmered like bronze and flowers that chimed softly with every breeze.

  Professor Hutchins, a woman of middle years, her earth-brown hair streaked with premature silver, her hands stained green and brown from constant work with plants and soil, stood waiting outside the largest greenhouse. Her tunics and shawls were a practical brown-green that seemed to blend into her surroundings, and tiny flowers were woven through her hair, less as decoration, Finn realized, but as living ornaments that continued to bloom and change as he watched.

  "Lusanology, Finn," she began, as the other first-years gathered around her, "is the art of communing with the plant kingdom. Flora speaks, if you know how to listen. Plants hold memories, carry messages, and possess their own form of ancient wisdom."

  She looked over the group, her eyes bright. "Every plant has a spirit, from the mightiest oak to the humblest clover. These spirits respond to respectful contact and share their knowledge with those who approach with proper intent."

  She led them into the greenhouse, where the air was warm and humid, thick with the scent of rich earth and green life. Aromas of rosemary, thyme, and lavender mingled with strange herbs Finn couldn't identify. The scents were intense, almost overwhelming, creating a heady mixture that seemed to sharpen his senses rather than dulling them. Along one wall stood a series of workbenches. each holding a large clay planter containing a tiny vine seedling with just two leaves. Beside each planter, a thin wooden pole, about five meters long, had been driven into the soil and stretched up toward the greenhouse's glass ceiling.

  Professor Hutchins gestured to the benches. "For the next few weeks, we will continue with the basics of Lusanology: quieting your human thoughts and opening your awareness to the green world's voice. In each of the planters, you will find a moonvine seedling, a native grove plant that responds readily to Aether manipulation when properly encouraged."

  She pointed to the tall poles. "I want you to connect with the seedling's spirit, encourage it to grow, and guide it to climb the pole. This requires both communication with the plant and gentle channeling of your Aether—recall your lessons with Mistress áine—to accelerate its natural processes. Please go ahead and pick a planter, they're all the same."

  Finn approached the workstation closest to him, studying the tiny seedling with its delicate green leaves. It looked impossibly small, as if it had just broken through the soil.

  "Place your hands, palms down, on the soil around the seedling. Don't press too hard. Be gentle." Professor Hutchins instructed, looking around to make sure that all students were following and in position.

  "Now close your eyes, empty your mind, and feel for the plant's Aether pulsing through the soil. Its rhythm is slower and deeper than human energy, but very much present."

  Finn knelt beside his planter, placing his palms flat on the rich, dark soil. The earth felt cool beneath his fingers. He closed his eyes and focused on the Aether flowing through him. As warmth spread through his chest and into his fingers, he reached out, trying to detect the rhythm Hutchins had described.

  "Everyone, keep your focus," he heard the Professor say. Her voice sounded distant and hypnotic. "Feel the Aether flowing not just within you, but through the soil, through the roots, up into stem and leaf. The plant kingdom has its own network of energy, older and deeper than anything we can claim."

  Finn still felt nothing but the familiar warmth of his own Aether, now spreading to his hands. He relaxed his shoulders, massaged his fingers, and tried again. Gradually, he became aware of something else. The more he listened, the clearer it became, a slow, steady pulse emanating from the earth around the seedling, joining his own inner rhythm like a new instrument added to a symphony.

  "Excellent," Professor Hutchins said, moving among the students. "Some of you are already making contact. Now, when you feel that connection, gently share some of your own Aether. Offer it as energy to support growth. Do not force it; simply encourage what the plant already wants to do."

  Finn focused on the tiny pulse, imagining his own Aether flowing down through his arms and into the soil. Feed the plant. Help it grow. Don't command.

  The pulsing grew stronger, and Finn began to sense something like... contentment? The emotion wasn't quite human, but it felt peaceful, satisfied, like a cat purring in sunlight.

  Around him, he could hear other students murmuring softly as they made first contacts with their seedlings. He heard Sophie giggle with joy: "It's like... like it's humming to me."

  "That's right, Miss Kerr," Professor Hutchins replied. "Plants often communicate through emotional resonance or simple sensations. Advanced practitioners can receive more complex information like memories stored in tree rings, knowledge of weather patterns, even warnings about dangers in the surrounding area."

  Finn opened his eyes and gasped. The moonvine had really begun to grow, its stem thickening and lengthening visibly. New leaves unfurled as the plant reached toward the pole, carefully probing, like something trying to orient itself in complete darkness.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Sophie's vine had also shot up about a meter before exhausting the energy provided.

  "I think I pushed too hard. The poor thing looks tired," she said, wiping sweat from her forehead.

  Within minutes, Finn's own vine had reached a similar height - about a meter of growth, with healthy new leaves and strong-looking tendrils that gripped the pole securely, slowly continuing its climb, inch by inch. There you go. Just a little mo—"

  A sudden shriek from across the greenhouse made everyone's heads turn. Elva, Sophie's roommate, was standing in the middle of her workspace with moonvine wrapped around her arms, legs, and torso. Not only had the plant grown explosively, but it had also decided she was a more appealing climbing surface than the wooden pole.

  "HELP! It's trying to EAT ME!" she cried, trying to unwrap a tendril that was winding around her waist. Professor Hutchins hurried over, her hands glowing with soft green light.

  "Relax, Elva. The plant isn't trying to harm you. It's simply responding to the excess energy you've channeled into it." She gently coaxed the vine to release its grip and return to its proper pole. "Lusanology is about balance. Too much Aether can overstimulate growth and lead to unpredictable results."

  Elva stared at her plant, terrified, her eyes wide open, her whole body still shaking.

  "Dgghnnn" was the only sound she was able to bring out, nodding profusely to show that she'd understood. Professor Hutchins gave Elva an encouraging smile and continued her rounds. When she reached Kai's station, she paused, studying both Kai and his plant in silence. Kai's moonvine had grown nearly three meters, almost reaching the top end of the pole. The plant's leaves were a healthy deep green, and its tendrils gripped the pole in elegant, perfectly even spirals.

  "Exceptional, Kai," Professor Hutchins said. "Remarkable harmony between you and the plant's natural growth patterns. Well done. Very promising!"

  Kai waved his hands and bowed slightly. "Thank you, Professor. It's not too different from spirit-speaking. The Aether's rhythm is different but the approach is the same, right?"

  "Precisely," Professor Hutchins nodded. "Though I'd say that plant spirits are exceptionally sensitive. More so than most others."

  They spent the remainder of the class practicing the technique with different plants: some that grew quickly, others that required more patience, and a few that had particular preferences about how they were encouraged. By the session's end, most students had managed at least modest success, though no one had come even close to Kai.

  As they prepared to leave, Professor Hutchins addressed the class once more.

  "Remember," she said, "and I'll repeat this again and again. Lusanology is about joining a conversation that has been ongoing for millions of years. Not about control, not about dominance. Respect the green world, and it will teach you secrets that no book contains." She glanced toward the forest that bordered the gardens. "The ancient trees know many things - about the past, about what was lost and what is seeking to wake. They may try to share that knowledge with you as your abilities develop." She smiled. "But be careful. Some knowledge comes with a price. The deeper you go into communion with the ancient spirits, the more you become part of their world. Balance is essential in all things. Don't lose yourself to the green dream, no matter how seductive it becomes."

  A bell tolled somewhere in the Academy's depths, signaling the end of the class period. Back in the Academy's main building, as Finn, Sophie, and Kai hurried through the corridors, Sophie suddenly changed directions. "I thought we had Aether-weaving next," Finn said, following her deeper into the eastern wing.

  Sophie shook her head, "Schedule changed for Samhain preparations. Professor Myrddin requested all first-years for Rune Theory instead." She lowered her voice overdramatically. "The old books need protection during the thinning of the veil."

  "Is he really as ancient as they say?" Finn asked, remembering rumors he'd overheard at breakfast. An older weaver at a neighboring table had said something about Myrddin having been at the Grove for centuries, that he remembered the Romans coming to Britain.

  Kai echoed the Myrddin-lore he'd heard. "No one knows exactly how old Professor Myrddin is. Some say that he's been part of the Grove since before it was the Grove."

  They turned down a corridor Finn hadn't seen before. Unlike the Academy's usual organic curves, this passage was rigidly geometric. Sconces holding small glass orbs emitted soft blue light, casting long shadows at regular intervals along the perfectly straight walls.

  "The Archival Wing," Kai explained. "It's the Grove's library and repository of Weaver knowledge. Some of it predates written history and is transferred through artifacts like memory-stones and dream-catchers."

  The corridor widened into a vast circular chamber that took Finn's breath away. Shelves stretched impossibly high, curving with the walls to form a tower of knowledge that seemed to have no ceiling, just level after level rising into shadow. Spiral staircases of wrought iron connected the levels, while what looked like floating platforms drifted silently between shelves.

  Books of every size and material filled the walls - leather-bound tomes, scrolls tied with silk, stone and wood tablets, and sheets of hammered gold inscribed with minute text. Some volumes glowed faintly; others were chained with heavy iron locks; still others bore shifting Celtic knots embossed onto their spines. In the chamber's center stood a circular arrangement of wooden tables, each carved with ogham script around its edge. First-year students were already gathering, examining the sheets of parchment, small silver knives, and pots of ink that sat neatly arranged in front of every seat.

  Bran was with a group of admirers, his posture deliberately casual, but his eyes tracking Finn as he entered.

  "Over there," Sophie pointed to an empty table near the chamber's heart, where a pedestal stood bearing a single massive book bound in what looked like silver bark. Its cover was unmarked, but the pages within glowed with a soft, shifting light.

  They had just sat down when a hush fell over the gathered students. Finn looked up, expecting to see Professor Myrddin entering through the main doors, but the chamber remained empty save for themselves.