Her hands curled into the soft folds of her coat as she couldn't help but have a feeling inwardly to cut the flower short before glancing to others, forcing herself to smile faintly to them as another thought gnawed inside her.

  When I get home, she decided firmly, no more exploration for me until I grow taller. She whispered inwardly with determination, though the thought felt more like a promise to herself, fragile yet firm. But before her mind could sink further into it, Jett’s calm voice broke through the quiet.

  “To us,” Jett replied, her tone almost calm, “We see it as just a flower… insignificant, ordinary. Maybe even nothing more than a pretty thing to place in a garden.”

  Her words trailed off as she stepped forward. Snow shifted gently under her boots as she extended her hand toward the strange bloom. Her black hair, streaked faintly with frost, caught a dim gleam of light as her fingers brushed the stem.

  The Flower Of Frost, no longer only a translucent shimmer in the air, had begun to shape itself clearly, the soft silhouette hardening into form. Its petals glowed faintly, fragile veins of light spreading through them. The once floating ball of pale blue radiance at its heart pulsed like a quiet star.

  Jett let her hand linger against the stem as her voice softened, becoming almost reverent.

  “But… if we look deeper… we find something else. Countless existences hidden within.”

  Drawn in by Jett’s words, Emma took a slow step forward, the hem of her dark ash skirt brushing against her knees. Snow crunched faintly beneath her boots as her fingers reached for the stem. Her fluffy coat's sleeve, slid slightly back, exposing her wrist as her hand pressed to the frost-dusted surface.

  The moment she touched it, her vision shifted.

  The world melted away into brilliance. She no longer stood in snow and silence. Instead, she saw endless specks of light, countless tiny glowing dots, scattered like words across a white sheet of paper. They drifted in the air, shimmered in clusters, and moved like they were alive. It was as though she stood before a secret scripture of all possible existence itself, each dot a fragment of life.

  A breath escaped her lips, soft and awed. “Wow…”

  Jett glanced sideways, her sharp eyes resting briefly on Ron, Liz, and Dan. A faint nod followed, silent encouragement for them to try.

  Ron was the first. Quiet as always, he stepped closer. His boots barely made a sound in the snow. His gray coat of beast pelt shifted around his frame as he reached forward with steady fingers. The moment his hand touched the stem, his pale gray eyes widened, reflecting the same hidden world Emma now saw.

  Liz followed, tugging at her coat’s furry edge as if steadying herself before she placed her own hand on the stem. Her emerald eyes gleamed, startled at the sudden flood of lights within her vision. Yet even as she gasped quietly, she tightened her hold on Dan’s arm, dragging him closer with her.

  Dan resisted faintly at first, his long black coat brushing the ground as he shifted back, but Liz’s grip was insistent. With an annoyed glance, he finally let her pull him forward. His hand pressed against the stem, and his deep blue eyes, like calm seas, narrowed in focus as the vision filled him too.

  For a moment, silence held them all. Five children, different in age, different in manner, bound together by the same sight of endless existences hidden in a single flower.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Jett broke the stillness, her voice quickened with urgency.

  “It’s about to bloom,” she said, eyes flashing as she pulled her hand away. “Let's step back.”

  Her tone carried no doubt when she spoked. Emma blinked, but nodded, retreating in small careful steps. Ron obeyed instantly, snow shifting under his steady tread. Liz tugged at Dan’s sleeve again until he relented, stepping back with his usual silence. Together, they widened the distance, breaths forming faint mist in the icy air.

  And then... it happened.

  The ground trembled lightly. The roots of the flower stirred, writhing beneath the snow before piercing through the surface. One by one, they sprouted outward. Not like ordinary roots, these unfurled like living tentacles, stretching in calm, elegant arcs. Each one curved and bent, zigzagging as though following a silent rhythm.

  Wherever they reached, they birthed something extraordinary.

  From the snow, smooth flat surfaces emerged, blank canvases, pale and pure. They grew in lines, spreading outward, glimmering faintly against the frost. Not crude or frightening, but mesmerizing. Each root extended with grace, weaving new canvases as if the world itself was painting its own foundation.

  Emma’s lips parted, her eyes fixed on the surreal sight. She had seen a few stange things before, but this.. she had never seen anything so strange, so beautiful.

  So she couldn't help but ask, "What are...?"

  But before the words could leave her tongue, Jett’s voice came again. She spoke softly, yet with the certainty of someone who already knew what Emma would ask.

  “The blank canvas,” Jett said, her breath visible in the cold. “It represents the Void. The place prior to all possible existences… hidden within the flower.”

  Emma nodded calmly as her gaze lingered on the strange sight before her, fixed on the canvases spreading endlessly like frozen pages.

  The way it sprouted from the frozen ground, silent yet steady, capturing almost all of her attention. Snow parted gently around the roots as if it dared not resist the growth. She narrowed her unique white eyes, unblinking, following the subtle movements as the stalk swayed ever so slightly in the cold wind, a rhythm that seemed alive, as though the land itself was breathing with it.

  Her lips parted slowly, curiosity pushing words past them.

  “…It’s… leaking something.”

  The delicate strands stretching from the flower glimmered faintly as streams of text began to spill forth. They trickled downward in curling trails, letters and phrases glowing faintly before falling upon the roots. The words scattered softly across the white surface, slipping like drops of ink onto paper, before pooling on the pale blank canvases spread beneath.

  Emma tilted her head slightly, her silver white hair brushing across her cheeks as she spoked, her voice low yet steady.

  “Aren’t these… narratives? Or something that belongs to stories?”

  Her unique white eyes reflected the glow, fixed entirely on the tumbling words that shivered and dissolved upon touching the roots.

  Jett, standing just behind her, let her pale gray gaze follow the sight with calm understanding. The fur collar of her long coat rose as she folded her arms calmly, her breath leaving pale clouds in the cold air.

  “Yes… to us, they are like stories... But to the flower, they are not just words. They are truths. Primordial truths that predate and define all conceptual layers within the flower.”

  She concluded with a faint breath, her eyes never leaving the cascades of glowing text.

  The words kept dropping, one after another, quiet and patient. Each landed upon the blank canvases with ripples that spread outward, bending the whiteness as if liquid. Slowly, faint forms began to emerge, stories shaping themselves into written life upon the untouched canvas.

  The snow beneath their boots shimmered faintly, starting near the flower before spreading outward in a slow tide. What was once dull white seemed alive now, faint glimmers of pale blue running beneath the surface like veins of light hidden in the ice.

  Emma felt her chest tighten as she watched. The frozen air around them seemed to shift, and her gaze was pulled upward.

  The cold sky within the barrier, dark, bluish-white and heavy with mist, began to glow. The kind of glow that seeped gently, quietly, until everything carried a soft illumination. It was as if the heavens were preparing a descent, something unseen pressing closer.

  The scene wrapped around her like a dream: the shimmer of the snow, the slow pulse of the flower, the rain of words that turned blankness into life. Her lips curved faintly in wonder, though her expression remained calm. Her breath drew out long and quiet as she whispered only to herself.

  “…Beautiful…”

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  Hehehehe...... (^0^) <-------- (Just ignore this, i didn't know what else to write :D), Have A Nice Weekend... And Try To Smile And See Things Beautifully, No Matter How Life May Seem Impossible Hard...