Chapter 4: Flowers That Heal, Thorns That Kill

The morning light was thin and hesitant, filtering through the ancient forest in silver shafts. Mist curled like ghostly snakes around the mossy ground as the forest woke with the cries of distant birds and the rustle of unseen creatures.

In the middle of this untouched wilderness, two figures lay under the protective arc of giant golden wings.

The girl stirred first.

Her eyelids fluttered weakly, and she let out a soft groan as pain wracked her body. Her hand instinctively reached for the satchel — and for a moment, panic crossed her pale face.

But her fingers brushed the familiar leather.

She relaxed, just a little.

Then she noticed the massive form beside her.

Wide golden wings. A fierce beak. Bright, intelligent eyes watching her.

She gasped sharply.

The Spirit Beast hadn't left. It was... protecting her?

"Why...?" she croaked, voice rasping from thirst and pain. "Why are you... helping me?"

Of course, there was no answer.

Only a deep, solemn gaze — and a faint, almost imperceptible bow of the golden head.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

For the first time since her clan fell, since her family was slaughtered before her very eyes, someone — something — had shown her kindness.

She bit her trembling lip.

"Thank you..." she whispered brokenly.

---

Arjun watched her struggle.

Part of him — the cold, logical part — knew this was dangerous. He had no idea who she truly was. No idea if helping her would lead to his destruction.

But another part — the part that still remembered standing wounded and alone — couldn't turn away.

He nudged her gently with his beak, urging her to get up.

She winced, clutching her side, but nodded.

Slowly, painfully, she climbed onto his back, wrapping trembling arms around the base of his neck.

Arjun spread his wings wide — and with a mighty leap, they soared into the sky.

---

The Search for a Healer

Flying low over the forest canopy, Arjun scanned the terrain.

There had to be a healer somewhere.

Not just any village doctor — he needed someone who could mend spiritual wounds, heal broken meridians, restore lifeforce.

A Flower Care Master.

Rare cultivators who devoted their lives to nurturing spirit plants, healing beasts, and restoring natural balances. They were secretive, elusive, and mistrustful of outsiders — but if anyone could save the girl, it would be them.

He banked sharply toward the east, toward the region once known as the Whispering Woods.

There, hidden deep within the labyrinth of trees and mist, was said to be an ancient herb valley — protected by spirit formations and fierce guardians.

---

Hours later, exhausted and wounded herself, the girl barely clung to consciousness as Arjun landed before an enormous wall of thorns.

It was a living wall — hundreds of meters high, pulsing faintly with green light. Ancient vines, thick as a man's body, writhed slowly, whispering secrets to the wind.

No ordinary force had created this.

This was the boundary of the Sacred Bloom Grove — where the Flower Care Masters lived.

Arjun let out a low call, respectful and powerful.

The vines shuddered — and from the thorns emerged a figure.

An old man, hunched and robed in living moss, his hair long and white as spider silk. His eyes, however, burned with sharp, emerald-green light.

"A spirit beast?" the old man murmured, stroking his long beard. "And a wounded child... hm. Rare indeed."

He stepped closer, staff tapping the ground.

"What do you seek, golden one?"

Arjun bent his head low in deference.

The old man chuckled.

"You understand honor. Good. Very good."

He waved his staff.

The wall of thorns parted slightly, revealing a path lined with glowing spirit flowers, their petals whispering softly to one another.

"Come, then," the old master…

(End of Chapter 4)