Jessamyn had always been fascinated by the myths and legends that surrounded their kingdom. Among them, the red-blooming elm tree at the grave of the Queen Mother had captivated poets and bards for ages.
Even without its mythological context, the tree's mysterious transformation—from blooming red to ceasing entirely for almost a millennium, only to suddenly bloom white—was puzzling.
"White," Jerrick affirmed, his voice carrying the weight of the mystery.
"What does that mean?" Jessamyn asked, her curiosity piqued. It suddenly hit her. Could it be related to Gemma Luna?
"I don't know," Jerrick shrugged.
"What does the Oracle say?" she pressed, assuming such significant changes would be reported to the King.
"No one bothered to check it for ages, and no one knows when it started blooming," Jerrick replied.
