Lily Service — -full Version- -tyviania-

The second laughed, a dry, rattling sound. "A bed, yes. And then a box. You know what happens to those Ashpetals. They go in pretty. They come out... not."

"Tonight," Lady Vane continued, "you will bid on the finest blooms. A child's essence, distilled into a . One dose grants eternal youth. Three doses grant the ability to step between shadows. Five..." She smiled. "Five grants immortality. The Grey Rot took their futures. We merely... repurpose them."

Elara reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, crude object: a , made from broken light-panel components and a stolen battery. She had built it for emergencies. This was the emergency. Lily Service -Full Version- -Tyviania-

The hall was called the . In its center, a pool of liquid mercury reflected a ceiling of living stars (a Tyvianian illusion-weave). Around the pool stood the Harvesters —not monsters, but elegant figures in tailored suits and gowns, their faces sharp with avarice. They were the nobility of Tyviania, the ones who had grown rich on Grey Rot cures and war profiteering.

The plague known as the Grey Rot had come seven years ago, leaving behind a harvest of orphans. They called them the "Ashpetals"—children with hollow cheeks and ancient eyes, named for the way they scattered at the first sign of city guards. The second laughed, a dry, rattling sound

And at their head was Lady Lyselle Vane.

Not toward the children. Toward the mercury pool. You know what happens to those Ashpetals

And on the first anniversary of the Lily Service's fall, a package arrived at the school. No return address. Inside: a single pressed lily, black as tar, and a note in elegant, copper-inked script.

"Drink that," Elara said, "and you'll live forever. Or help me stop them. Your choice."