Rivienne (prime)/Garden of Secrets
Rivienne loved to receive mail.
She could barely resist the urge to tug at one end of the satiny ribbon and lift the lid of the box, right there in the bustling Peacock Courier mail room. Fortunately, she had her hands full with a tall stack of books, recently borrowed from the Library Aies, which kept her from succumbing to curiosity. With a word of gratitude, she allowed the mail clerk to crown her already precarious pile with the ribbon-tied package. A smile brightened her aspect as she traveled through the Sapphire Gate and down the Pass, induced by the smell of fresh flowers drifting back from the box, though by the time she arrived at the doors of Moonstone Abbey her slender arms ached with fatigue.
Her path through the halls was made serpentine by awkward attempts to keep the teetering stack upright. Adding to her clumsiness, instead of watching where she was going, her eager eyes kept returning to the ribbon-tied box. She would have made it to the table if not for the black cat that darted across her path, as they are prone to do. Books, box, Rivienne, and some less-than-ladylike words went in all directions. Amidst the commotion, the ribbon slipped and the box fell tantalizingly open, revealing two white lilies and a thin sheet of vellum.
Rivienne reached for the vellum first.
In the Common language, it read:
In the event I am unable to attend the next gathering, I have enclosed a spider lily and an alligator lily. They ought to still be fresh. If I am able to attend, I will bring a set of lilies as well. Good luck!
Ballital
Rivienne tidied up the mess, arranging her personal notebook (which held the list of previously tested lilies), the box containing the two lilies and the leatherbound journal neatly on the table in front of her. It wasn't immediately evident which lily was the alligator and which was the spider. Both were white, exotic looking and displayed elongated, delicately curled petals. Rivienne noticed one lily had green tepals while the other was entirely white. She chose the latter, hoping its uniformly white appearance alluded to an innocent nature.
The research group had already experimented with numerous lilies, leaving Rivienne with low expectations when she placed the lily on top of the journal. She certainly didn't anticipate the sudden mechanical whirring of gears emanating from within it. Startled, Rivienne let out an involuntary squeak and swiftly took cover beneath the table, anxiously waiting to see what would unfold.
A young maid walking by paused to take in the scene and teased, “It's only a spider lily, Lady Rivienne, not a spider”, giggling as she returned to her task.
“I'm not afraid of spid...”, Rivienne absently responded as she rose slowly, cautiously peering over the edge of the table at the journal. It sat unassumingly on the tabletop, with the lily she had placed on it still resting there. It remained wrapped in the virulent green haze, but something had changed. Instead of a lily, the journal now flashed with the image of a woman. She was seated at a writing desk, her hand pulling her hair back to reveal her ear. The woman's pose was unique, and gave Rivienne the impression that she was straining to hear something.
Flipping through the pages of her notebook, Rivienne searched the notes she had taken during the research meeting a night ago until her gaze fell upon the words, “Whisper Locks”.