The pill opened inside me like a flood breaking through winter ice.
It wasn't knowledge being poured in. It was understanding—things I'd been circling for months suddenly standing still long enough for me to see them whole.
Blossoming. I finally got it.
Not the mechanics of coaxing a bud open, and not the theory Seraphina had walked me through in the garden at home. The truth underneath both. The exact moment potential becomes real. The instant dormancy gives way and something that has been hiding decides it is safe to show itself.
The pill's mana folded into my reserves, and it wasn't ordinary mana. It carried every first morning of spring, every bud that had chosen to open into weather it couldn't be sure of. I let it move through me and didn't try to steer it. Mo had been clear: blossoming isn't force.
