Crimson Curtain Peonies

Xander sighed heavily, his breaths visible in the cold air as he watched Narisva despite the exhaustion etched into her features. She had taken the brunt of the battle, her barrier work and strategy ensuring their survival while he and Farrynelle focused on their escape. Yet, even in her drained state, her commanding presence refused to waver.

They escaped from the red peonies but it took them hours. Now, the island was peaceful again.

If it wasn't for the spores circling around the island like a red mist, they would have not been so exhausted. Even with their advanced vision, it was extremely hard to see what was in front of them.

"We need to keep moving forward," Narisva stated sharply, her voice carrying an edge of impatience as she glanced between the two.

Xander's brow furrowed.

"Moving forward? Did you miss the part where sixteen hundred soldiers were—"

"Spare me the recap. I already know what happened. That's why we're not making the same mistake twice."

Farrynelle, leaning on a boulder covered in red sap, raised an eyebrow.

"And what exactly is your genius plan this time? Because I'm not seeing many options that don't involve us ending up like those soldiers."

Narisva ignored her jab, gesturing toward the landscape of vibrant, swaying peonies ahead.

"Do not, under any circumstances, touch the flowers or any part of the plants. No hands, no feet, no weapons, no objects, Nothing."

"And why is that?"

Narisva narrowed her starry eyes at Xander, her cocky smirk returning despite the dark circles under her eyes.

"Because all the flora on this island is connected. You disturb one, whether by stepping on it, cutting it, or even brushing against it and you disturb all of them. The reaction will be immediate and considering we're the only ones left alive on this damn forsaken island, we'll be the sole targets."

Farrynelle let out a low whistle.

"Great. A sentient death garden. Just what we needed."

"You're welcome," Narisva shot back sarcastically. "Now shut up and follow my lead."

Narisva extended her hand. The air around them grew lighter, almost buoyant, as the gravity shifted. Slowly, Xander and Farrynelle felt themselves lift off the ground, their boots hovering just inches above the deadly flowers.

"This is… unnerving," Xander muttered, his arms flailing slightly as he tried to steady himself mid-air.

"Focus," Narisva snapped, rolling her eyes. "It's simple. Just maintain your balance and don't touch the ground. Levitate or die... it's not complicated."

Xander huffed but said nothing, his gaze fixed on the treacherous path ahead. The sea of peonies stretched as far as the eye could see, their petals glowing faintly in the twilight. The flowers looked innocent, beautiful even, but the memory of what they had just witnessed was still fresh in their minds.

"Stay close," Narisva instructed, her tone all business now. "We'll move in formation. Xander, keep your essence steady to maintain levitation and don't lose focus. Same goes for your elemental energy, Farrynelle. The last thing we need is one of you crashing into them because you weren't paying attention."

The air around them was heavy, saturated with a red mist that clung to their skin and filled their lungs. It wasn't until Xander finally asked, his voice trembling with suppressed fear, that the reality of their situation became abundantly clear.

"Narisva, how did you even know not to touch these things? What the hell are they?"

He said, struggling to steady his breathing as he floated precariously above the sea of flowers.

Narisva turned, her eyes narrowing as she cast a glance at him and Farrynelle, who was visibly pale, her hands clamped tightly over her nose and mouth.

"They're called Crimson Curtain Peonies," she began, her voice cold and clinical as if she were recounting a lecture rather than detailing their impending doom. "One of the top five most dangerous Krepsuna flora known to exist. And no, they don't belong to this world. They're invasive, brought here from the Krepsunas' unknown realm, likely during the Destras Cataclysm."

Her words hung in the air like a death sentence.

"Crimson Curtain?" Farrynelle repeated, her voice muffled behind her hands. "What kind of name is that?"

"It's poetic. They don't just kill, Farrynelle. They transform. The curtain part refers to the mist, the spores you've both been breathing in for hours now."

Xander stiffened, his hand instinctively flying to his face as if that would somehow undo the damage. His eyes darted toward the crimson fog that surrounded them.

"Wait—what? Are you saying this mist is—"

"Alive? Yes. The spores are everywhere, in the air, the soil, even the water. A single spore can bloom into a full plant within seconds. That's why they're the most regenerative of the five. You could burn an entire field of them to ash, but if even a single petal survives, they'll grow back, stronger than before."

Farrynelle cursed under her breath, her supersonic composure cracking under the weight of the revelation.

"And we've been breathing this crap? For hours? Are you saying we're—"

"Already infected? Yes. I'm a Third Phase Ascender, so I've got about four days before the peonies start blooming inside my body. You two, on the other hand…"

She paused, her gaze flicking between them, her smirk replaced by something closer to pity.

"…have two days, tops. If we don't get off this island before then, you'll become part of the Crimson Curtain. Just like everyone else who's ever set foot here."

Xander's stomach twisted into a knot.

"Part of the—wait, are you saying these flowers—"

"Were once living beings," Narisva finished, her voice colder than ever. "Humans, elves, demons, other Krepsunas, animals, maybe even gods. The Crimson Curtain doesn't just kill. It converts. It's why the flowers are so vibrant. They're not just alive but they're conscious as well. Every single petal, every vein, every root… was someone, once."

Farrynelle staggered in mid-air, her levitation faltering for a moment as she processed what she'd just heard.

"You're saying… all those soldiers… all sixteen hundred of them… they're—"

"Flowers now," Narisva said bluntly. "And if we don't figure something out fast, we'll be joining them."

Xander felt his chest tighten, not from the spores but from sheer panic. He clamped a hand over his nose and mouth, as if that would somehow protect him from the inevitable.

"There has to be a way to stop this. "There has to be—"

"There isn't," Narisva snapped, cutting him off. "Covering your nose and mouth won't help. The spores are already inside you. They're in your lungs, your bloodstream, probably even your essence. There's no cure, no antidote, no way to fight it. The only thing we can do is get to the next Winter Labor and pray the territory's essence field slows the blooming process."

"..."

"The Crimson Curtain Peonies have a their own Territory. Once we leave it, which is this island, the spores will die."

"And if it doesn't?"

Narisva's smirk returned, colder than ever.

"Then we die. Painfully."

"And Peccavi? We haven't seen her since—"

"She's gone," Narisva said flatly. "Whether the flowers got her or something else, it doesn't matter. She's not here, and we don't have time to look for her—"

"Stop interrupting is all the time damn it! And you don't know that!" Xander snapped, his voice cracking. ,"She could still be alive—"

"Do you want to join her?" Narisva shot back. "Because that's what's going to happen if you waste any more time. We've got two days or less, if we keep standing around arguing. So either move or die. Your choice."

Every breath they took felt like a countdown to their own deaths, the spores infiltrating every part of their being. The Crimson Curtain Peonies were no longer just a threat.

It was their doom.

As the three of them drifted toward the distant glow of the next Winter Labor's territory, the oppressive silence was broken only by the faint, almost mocking rustle of the flowers below.