Her breath caught in her throat.
Elara stumbled backward, nearly tripping over a root that hadn't been there a moment ago. Her brother, Cassian, had vanished three years prior - without a single clue, no note, no sign of struggle. One minute he was at their family's apartment, teasing her about her latest botany obsession, and the next, he was gone.
She hadn't believed the garden could hold any connection to the missing. But now, staring into the uncanny contours of the flower, she saw it: his familiar cheekbones, the tilt of his lips in a half-smile, the crinkle at the corner of one eye. It wasn't perfect, not like a photograph, but it was him. The flower moved faintly in the breeze, and for a moment she could have sworn it sighed.
"Elara," a voice whispered behind her.
She spun around, heart hammering. But there was no one there - just the garden, still and strange under the orange hues of the evening sky.
"Elara," it said again.
This time, it came from the flower.
She leaned in, trembling, watching as the petals unfurled slightly more. At the base, hidden beneath layers of color, something shimmered - light like liquid silver, swirling slowly. She reached for it, fingers hesitant, not quite touching. The instant her skin grazed a petal, a pulse surged through her body, like static and warmth and sorrow all at once.
Images flooded her vision - memories not her own. A room made of glass and moss. A voice humming a lullaby in a forgotten tongue. A shadow reaching out with dozens of hands. And Cassian - older than she remembered, eyes haunted, mouth moving but soundless.
She staggered away, gasping, the vision evaporating like mist. Her skin felt sunburned where she'd touched the flower.
"Elara!" someone called - a real voice, this time. She turned to see a woman standing at the edge of the garden, watching her with wide, knowing eyes.
"I saw you," the woman said. "You touched one, didn't you?"
Elara nodded slowly.
"They call to us," the woman continued, stepping closer. "I lost my daughter. Her face is in the blue iris near the fountain. You can feel them, can't you? The ones who've vanished."
"What is this place?" Elara whispered.
The woman didn't answer. Instead, she took Elara's hand and led her deeper into the garden.
As they walked, Elara noticed more flowers that mirrored human traits - curves that looked like fingers, stalks that bent like spines, petals that opened like mouths. Every plant held a presence, a soul pressed into bloom. The air thickened with unseen energy, the scent of longing and life.
"You're a botanist, aren't you?" the woman asked, finally.
Elara nodded again.
"Then maybe you can understand this better than the rest of us. This garden… it's not just alive. It's aware."
They stopped in a clearing where the flowers grew taller than trees. In the center, a single black blossom bloomed on a stalk of translucent green. Its petals shimmered with shifting symbols - runes? Memories?
"The first to touch that one never came back," the woman said quietly.
Elara's thoughts turned to Cassian, to the visions, to the whispers. She felt the question burning behind her lips.