The Black Shroud breathed beneath the twilight, its canopy thick with emerald shadows. Fireflies flickered between the roots of ancient trees, and the streams ran silver in the fading light. Aerith moved quietly through the woods, her staff crowned with lilies resting against her shoulder, her steps light as if the earth itself carried her forward. She had always felt at home in places like this, where the whispers of the land brushed gently against her mind.
The Conjurers' Guild had tasked her with investigating a grove gone wrong. The elementals' voices there had turned restless, their whispers sharp with pain. Aerith could feel it already, a sourness threading through the flow of aether, like a thorn in the planet's side.
Her heart ached with memory. Midgar had been all smoke and iron, choking the flowers before they had a chance to bloom. Here, the forest still lived, but even living things could suffer. She would listen. She would heal.
The grove came into view—and with it, chaos. Three adventurers fought desperately against twisted creatures spilling from the corrupted spring. A dancer spun in frantic circles, her steps flashing but unsteady, her blades striking to little effect. A paladin stood firm with shield raised, though her arms trembled with each blow. Behind them, a robed woman wielded a star globe that flickered dimly, her spells faltering as though the stars themselves had abandoned her.
Aerith's staff rose before she even thought about it. Light blossomed from its crown, soft but steady, scattering the dark sprites that swarmed around the grove. The creatures recoiled, hissing as her magic pushed them back.
"Hold steady!" she called, her voice gentle but commanding.
The three turned, shock flashing in their eyes.
Aerith stepped into the clearing, her presence calm against the corruption. She knelt beside the spring, setting her staff across her lap. The water was blackened, choked by sick aether, and the sprites raged because of it. They weren't evil—only afraid, only hurting. Aerith laid her palm against the water, and the chill bit deep into her bones.
"It's all right," she whispered. "I hear you. You don't have to fight anymore."
The forest hushed. Her voice rose into a song, wordless but filled with warmth, the same lullaby she had once sung to flowers in the slums. White light spread from her hand, interwoven with green, like sunlight piercing through leaves. The spring shivered, then began to clear.
The sprites faltered, their furious cries weakening. One by one, they softened into motes of aether and faded into the night. The water bubbled fresh from beneath, pure once more, and wildflowers unfurled along the bank as though bowing in thanks.
Aerith exhaled softly, a smile blooming across her face. "There you are. You just needed someone to listen."
The three adventurers approached cautiously. The dancer lowered her blades, awe shining in her eyes. The paladin's shield dropped, her stern expression softening. The astrologian clutched her globe to her chest, staring at Aerith as though she had seen a miracle.
"You healed it," the astrologian whispered.
Aerith stood, brushing moss from her skirt. "Not me. The spring healed itself. I just gave it a little help."
The paladin bowed, her voice low but steady. "Then you have our gratitude, conjurer."
Aerith laughed lightly, waving her hands. "Please, don't call me that. I'm just a student healer."
The three exchanged glances, something unspoken passing between them. Aerith tilted her head, sensing secrets but not pressing them. Whatever their pasts, they were bound tightly together. That was enough for her.
"You remind me of petals hiding in shade," she said gently, smiling at them. "Strong, beautiful, but keeping secrets. I think that makes you the Petal Veil."
The dancer's lips curved into a grin. The paladin chuckled softly. The astrologian's eyes glimmered as though the name struck something deeper than Aerith could know.
They accepted it without argument, and for a moment the clearing felt brighter, lighter, as though the forest itself approved.
As the three departed, thanking her again, Aerith lingered by the spring, running her fingers through the cool water. She could feel the gratitude in the flow, a soft hum in her heart. She had come here as a conjurer on trial, but she left as something more—not because of spells or titles, but because she had listened.
That night, Aerith rested beneath an elm at the river's edge. Fireflies drifted overhead, and the stars bloomed like white blossoms in the sky. She thought of Zack in the desert, Galuf in Ul'dah, Noctis in the woods, Reks by the sea. They were apart, but still connected, like roots beneath the soil.
She closed her eyes with a smile. Whatever path she walked, she knew she would never truly walk alone.