Farewell at the Crystal Cave
Hazel's boots crunched softly over the crystalline stones of the Crystal Cave path. Moonlight filtered through the jagged roof openings, scattering shards of silver across the floor. She was late. She had lost track of time, not because of her gift but because of her old habits of always needing to fill every second of her time. She had been practicing, then reading, and never paying proper attention to the time.
Her heart raced as she rounded the final bend. Ahead, Montague and Minerva stood side by side, their hands lightly brushing over the smooth surface of a magical portal, a farewell ritual they both had insisted upon being private. Hazel slowed, letting her breath out in a quiet exhale, and leaned against a crystalline pillar, giving them the space she knew they needed. Shylah stirred on her shoulder, ruffling her wings lightly, but remaining silent, allowing Hazel to know she was there, if she needed her.
Montague's shoulders were squared, his posture holding a soldier's discipline, yet his expression betrayed the quiet ache of leaving. Minerva's hand rested on his arm for a moment longer than necessary, a soft, almost imperceptible squeeze. Hazel's chest tightened. She let them have this, even though part of her ached to run forward and wrap them both in a hug.
For others it was odd to see them this way, but she had grown up with them. Her mother's stern, no nonsense ways, her father always laid back with an easy smile, and together, together a love that shown brighter than any star.
"Hazel," Montague finally said, voice gentle but firm, "come closer."
Hazel stepped forward cautiously, bowing her head slightly, acknowledging the weight of the moment. The cloak was folded neatly in her arms, the deep black fabric catching the faint glow of the cave's crystals. Threads of gold, blue, and subtle black divination filaments peeked from the edges, glimmering softly as if aware of the magic woven into them.
"This is for you," she murmured, stepping up beside them. She extended the cloak toward Montague. "For your travels. It has the usual protections, but… there's a little extra. I added some divination threads inside the lining. Just… in case."
Montague's sharp gaze swept over the cloak, noticing the shimmer in the fabric, the faint hum of runes beneath his fingertips. He held it up, turning it slightly, examining the subtle patterning. His eyes flicked to Hazel.
"Divination threads?" he asked, curiosity laced with caution.
Hazel shrugged lightly, cheeks warming. "It's… subtle. You might feel it, or you might not. But it's meant to watch over you. Just in case anything happens on your journey."
'And tell me if you need help.' She thought to herself.
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I see. Something only you could think of." He draped the cloak over his shoulders, testing the weight, the feel of the materials. There was comfort in the texture, a sense of silent protection woven into every stitch.
Minerva's gaze softened as she watched, eyes flicking between father and daughter. Hazel noticed her mother's quiet approval, a nod toward the meticulous work Hazel had poured into this cloak. Shylah stirred again, wings fluttering lightly against the stone pillar, the soft coo of reassurance mingling with the quiet echoes of the cave.
Montague folded his arms across the cloak, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, Hazel. Truly. I feel… safer than I have in a long time. And that is no small thing."
Hazel's lips pressed together, a faint smile escaping. "I just want you to come back safely."
There was a pause, heavy with unspoken thoughts, a momentary stillness that seemed to stretch the air in the cavern. Minerva placed a hand on Montague's arm, giving it a final squeeze before releasing him. Hazel's shoulders shifted slightly as if to absorb the emotional charge of the moment.
"I should go now," Montague said softly, stepping toward the portal. "Hazel… thank you again. Both of you."
Shylah ruffled her feathers and let out a soft trill, almost like a farewell note, circling Hazel's shoulders briefly. Hazel paused to stroke her familiar, grateful for the steady presence beside her.
"Be safe," Hazel whispered, her voice barely audible. Montague nodded, stepping fully into the shimmering portal. The light flickered over his features one last time before he disappeared, leaving only the faint afterglow dancing across the cave walls.
Hazel exhaled, a weight lifting off her chest, and turned to Minerva. "Mother… I'll open the portal for you now. You can get back to Hogwarts safely."
Minerva's eyes met Hazel's, warm but tinged with a mixture of pride and melancholy. "Go ahead, dear. We both know how much you have on your mind already. Travel carefully, and stay in the known dimensions. Now that your father is gone you may need to come to Hogwarts with me."
Hazel ignored her mother's worry and murmured the words of activation and a luminous portal shimmered to life before her. Minerva stepped through, glancing back once, a fleeting smile brushing her lips. Hazel watched until the portal closed, leaving only the quiet glimmer of the Crystal Cave stones beneath her feet.
She turned, intending to leave as well, when a faint shattering noise pierced the silence. Glass. She froze. The sound came again, faint at first, then escalating in volume, like the walls of the cave had suddenly become instruments of discord. Hazel's hands shot up to her ears, but even as she did, the noise surged, nearly deafening, before abruptly stopping.
Silence. Absolute.
Her eyes snapped open. Darkness pressed in from all sides, though the faint glimmer of crystals around her reminded her of the familiar cave. Then, a sudden light ignited in the black, revealing a mirror suspended mid-air. Its surface rippled faintly, like liquid silver. As she approached, words began to form across the glass:
"You seek many answers. The lake can only give you one. Will you receive it when it does?"
Hazel's breath caught. Shylah moved on her shoulder, letting out a soft, uneasy trill. The familiar fox-like calls echoed faintly in the distance, threading between the walls of the cave and mingling with the shimmering light of the mirror. Hazel stepped closer, captivated, wary, her heart hammering in her chest.
Shylah's words caressed her ears. "So it comes."
The question lingered in the air like a spell cast just for her, and Hazel knew—this was only the beginning of another challenge, one that would demand everything she had. Shylah's feathers bristled slightly, settling lightly on Hazel's shoulder as if lending strength for what was to come.
And in that strange, silent moment, Hazel realized the path forward was no longer just about travel cloaks or careful observation. Something ancient, something vast, waited for her at the Spawning Lake, and it would not be ignored.