One day before my birthday.
One day before I leave Cresent Roseville.
I woke up earlier than usual.
Not because I was nervous.
Definitely not because I had been thinking about leaving all night.
And certainly not because I had spent half of the night wondering what Silvermere City would look like.
I stared at the ceiling for several seconds.
Then I pulled the blanket over my head.
“Just a little longer.”
Five minutes later, I threw the blanket away.
“I can’t sleep!”
I sat up so quickly that my hair fell all over my face.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow was finally my eighteenth birthday.
And after that…
I would leave.
The thought made my stomach flutter.
I was excited.
Terrified.
Excited again.
Then terrified again.
I had spent my entire life in Cresent Roseville.
I knew every little path between the houses, every shortcut through the fields, every corner of the market, and every place where the villagers liked to gather in the evening.
I even knew which floorboards in Grandma Martha’s house creaked loudly enough to announce whenever someone sneaked into the kitchen.
Especially me.
I smiled.
Tomorrow, all of that would become memories.
I looked around my little room.
The wooden walls were plain.
The furniture was old, and the window was slightly crooked.
The bed had been repaired more times than I could remember.
It wasn’t anything special.
Yet somehow, it felt precious.
My fingers reached toward the small wooden animal sitting beside my bed.
The village craftsman had carved it for me when I was little.
One ear was slightly crooked because, according to him, I had distracted him by asking too many questions while he was working.
I picked it up and smiled.
“I wonder how many things I’ll collect out there.”
I placed it carefully into my travel bag.
Then I heard shouting from outside.
“LUCIA!”
I froze.
“Oh no.”
Another voice followed.
“LUCIA!
If you’re awake, come outside!”
I sighed.
Apparently, my peaceful morning was over.
I opened the window.
“What happened?”
Three villagers were standing outside.
One of them pointed accusingly at me.
“You’re late!”
“Late for what?”
“For helping!”
I blinked.
“Helping with what?”
They stared at me.
Then one of them crossed his arms.
“Your birthday.”
“My birthday isn’t until tomorrow.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
Another villager nodded seriously.
“Your birthday preparations started three days ago.”
I stared at them.
“…What?”
They all smiled.
I slowly closed the window.
“No.”
Someone immediately shouted from outside.
“Don’t you dare!”
I laughed.
And just like that, my morning disappeared.
By midmorning, Cresent Roseville looked completely different.
Lanterns were being hung between houses.
Tables were being carried toward the village square.
Someone had brought flowers from the eastern field, while someone else was arguing over how many cakes were necessary for one girl.
I had stopped trying to understand the villagers’ logic.
“Do we really need three cakes?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re leaving.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“It explains everything.”
I stared at the old man carrying a tray of pastries.
He nodded solemnly.
I gave up.
The entire village seemed determined to make my last day memorable.
Everywhere I went, someone handed me something.
A scarf.
A small pouch.
Some dried fruit.
A lucky charm.
A pair of gloves.
A tiny knife that one of the hunters insisted I should carry because “the world is full of idiots.”
I wasn’t sure whether that was comforting.
By lunchtime, my arms were full.
I looked down at everything.
“Where am I supposed to put all of this?”
A woman laughed.
“You’ll figure it out.”
“Everyone keeps saying that!”
“Because it’s true.”
I couldn’t help laughing.
That was the thing about Cresent Roseville.
Nobody here ever made me feel like I was alone.
Even when they teased me.
Especially when they teased me.
By afternoon, I escaped to Grandma Martha’s house.
Or at least, I tried to.
The moment I stepped through the door, the smell of butter and freshly baked bread greeted me.
I closed my eyes.
“Croissants.”
From the kitchen came Grandma Martha’s voice.
“You’re very easy to predict.”
I walked inside.
“I can smell them.”
“You could smell them from three streets away.”
“That sounds like a compliment.”
“It wasn’t.”
I grinned.
Grandma Martha placed a tray on the table.
There were at least a dozen golden croissants.
My eyes widened.
“You made all of those?”
“Some are for tomorrow.”
I immediately reached for one.
Grandma Martha slapped my hand.
“Tomorrow.”
I slowly withdrew my hand.
“But—”
“No.”
“Grandma.”
“No.”
“Just one.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
She looked at me.
I looked at the croissants.
She looked at the croissants.
Then she sighed.
“Fine.”
I grabbed one.
“Thank you!”
“Greedy little thing.”
I took a bite.
Warm.
Buttery.
Perfect.
I closed my eyes happily.
Grandma Martha watched me for a moment before smiling.
“You’ll miss these.”
My chewing slowed.
She hadn’t said it dramatically.
She hadn’t tried to make me sad.
She simply said it.
And somehow, that made my chest tighten.
“I’ll miss everything.”
Grandma Martha sat across from me.
“Even my burnt soup?”
“Especially your burnt soup.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve never eaten my soup.”
“I’ve smelled it.”
We both burst out laughing.
For a while, we simply sat there.
No preparations.
No journey.
No farewell.
Just me and Grandma Martha.
Then she leaned back in her chair.
“So.”
I swallowed another bite.
“So?”
“What are you wishing for tomorrow?”
I blinked.
“My birthday wish?”
“Yes.”
I thought about it.
“I don’t know.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re turning eighteen.”
“And?”
Grandma Martha smiled mysteriously.
“Eighteen is a good age to make an interesting wish.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“That’s suspiciously wise.”
“I am old.”
“You’re also nosy.”
“Eat your croissant.”
I laughed.
Then I looked toward the window.
Outside, the afternoon sunlight had begun turning golden.
“What would I wish for?”
Grandma Martha waited.
I rested my chin on my hand.
“I guess…
I want to see the world.”
“That isn’t a bad wish.”
“I want to visit Silvermere City.”
“Good.”
“I want to see a real mage.”
“Very ambitious.”
“I want to meet an adventurer.”
“Possible.”
“I want to see a dragon.”
Grandma Martha nearly choked on her tea.
I burst out laughing.
“What?”
“Don’t chase dragons on your first day.”
“I won’t!”
“You said that too confidently.”
“Fine.
Maybe I’ll chase one on my second day.”
“Luciana.”
We laughed again.
Then I looked outside.
My smile softened.
“And I want to come home.”
Grandma Martha’s expression changed.
Just slightly.
She reached across the table and patted my hand.
“Then make that your most important wish.”
I nodded.
“I will.”
That evening, the villagers gathered around the lake.
The preparations were almost finished.
Lanterns floated near the water, their reflections trembling beneath the evening sky.
The lake was calm.
Beautiful.
Familiar.
Around its edges, the silver roses stood quietly beneath the fading light.
There weren’t many.
They had become rare over the years.
I had always loved them.
Perhaps because they only truly opened at night.
Perhaps because they made the lake look like it belonged to another world.
Or perhaps…
I simply liked them.
I sat near the shore, hugging my knees.
Tomorrow.
One more night.
I looked at the roses.
“Hmm.”
An idea suddenly came to me.
I smiled.
“If birthday wishes really work…”
I raised one finger.
“I wish it won’t rain tomorrow.”
Nothing happened.
I waited.
One second.
Two.
Three.
I laughed at myself.
“Of course nothing happened.”
I stood up and brushed the grass from my dress.
Then I looked toward the sky.
Dark clouds were beginning to gather in the distance.
I frowned.
“Actually…”
I pointed at the clouds.
“I really mean it.”
The wind moved gently across the lake.
The clouds continued drifting toward the village.
I shrugged.
“Well, I tried.”
I turned around.
Then stopped.
The clouds had stopped too.
Not completely.
They were moving around the village.
A clear patch of sky slowly opened above Cresent Roseville.
I stared.
“…Huh?”
The wind brushed past me.
I looked around.
Nobody was nearby.
I scratched my head.
“That’s strange.”
After a moment, I simply shrugged.
“Maybe we’re lucky.”
Then I remembered something else.
The silver roses.
I walked toward them.
There were only a few blooming near the lake.
Tomorrow, the villagers had planned to decorate the square with what they could gather.
I crouched beside one flower.
Its silver petals reflected the moonlight.
“I wish there were more of you tomorrow.”
I smiled.
“I want to remember Cresent Roseville like this.”
I paused.
“Actually…”
My smile widened.
“I want tomorrow to be the most beautiful birthday ever.”
For several heartbeats, nothing happened.
The lake remained still.
The flowers remained closed.
I laughed softly.
“Okay.
Maybe I’m asking for too much.”
Then—
A single silver petal moved.
I froze.
The flower slowly opened.
My eyes widened.
“…What?”
Another flower opened.
Then another.
I slowly stood.
Around the lake, tiny silver buds began unfolding one after another.
My mouth fell open.
The silver roses were blooming.
Hundreds of them.
Where there had been only a handful that afternoon, silver petals were now appearing along the entire lakeshore.
Moonlight spilled across them.
The lake seemed to glow.
I stared in complete disbelief.
“…I only wished for more flowers.”
A breeze swept across the water.
More roses opened.
I took one careful step forward.
The nearest flower unfolded completely.
Then another beside it.
Then another.
It was almost as if they were responding to me.
I crouched again.
My fingers hovered above one silver petal.
“Are you…”
I swallowed.
“Are you listening to me?”
The flower trembled.
Then bloomed wider.
I immediately pulled my hand back.
“Okay.”
I stared at it.
“That was definitely weird.”
A moment later, I smiled.
“But beautiful.”
I laughed softly.
Maybe tomorrow really would be the most beautiful birthday of my life.
I didn’t know why.
I didn’t know how.
And I certainly didn’t know that the silver roses had not bloomed like this for a very long time.
I only knew that they were beautiful.
So I sat beside the lake and watched them.
For the first time in days, my strange dreams didn’t bother me.
I simply watched the flowers.
And wished for tomorrow.
Far beyond the edge of the lake, hidden among the trees, someone stood completely still.
Raizen had been watching Luciana from a distance.
He had expected many things.
He had expected her soul to awaken slowly.
He had expected her memories to remain buried.
He had expected the power within her to stay dormant for some time.
He had waited a thousand years.
He could wait longer.
But he had not expected this.
The silver roses continued blooming across the lake.
Raizen’s dark eyes narrowed slightly.
For the first time since he had sensed her soul in Cresent Roseville, genuine surprise crossed his face.
“Already?”
His voice was barely more than a whisper.
The flowers responded to her wish as naturally as breathing.
That power…
It was unmistakable.
The awakening had begun.
Not because she remembered.
Not because she knew who she had once been.
But because her eighteenth birthday was approaching.
Her soul was beginning to remember what her mind could not.
Raizen looked toward the girl sitting peacefully beside the lake.
She was smiling at the roses.
Completely unaware of what had just happened.
A faint softness touched his eyes.
“You still haven’t changed.”
Luciana suddenly sneezed.
Raizen blinked.
She rubbed her nose.
“Someone must be talking about me.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his gaze returned to the silver roses.
A thousand years of waiting.
A thousand years of silence.
And now…
She was awakening.
Slowly.
Naturally.
In her own way.
Raizen would not interfere.
Not yet.
This life belonged to Luciana.
He would let her discover it herself.
Even if that meant watching from the shadows a little longer.
After all…
He had already waited a thousand years.
A few more days meant nothing.
But this time—
When Luciana finally stepped beyond Cresent Roseville…
he would be there.