The early autumn wind carried the scent of crisp leaves and warm bread as Elara ran barefoot through the west garden of the Landon estate. The roses were blooming late this year, splashing red and white across the hedges like someone had spilled paint over velvet.
Carl watched her from the terrace above, leaning against the marble railing. "She has Caveen's boundless energy," he murmured, sipping from his cup of tea.
"She does," Maika said softly, seated beside him. Her eyes never left the child darting between bushes and flower beds. "And Lysandra's curiosity."
"Has she asked about her mother?" Carl asked.
Maika nodded. "She misses her, but I've told her Lysandra is away gathering strength, building a world Elara can live in freely. That seems to satisfy her… for now."
Carl smiled faintly. "She's too clever for her age."
"She's more than clever," Maika murmured. "There's a storm sleeping inside her."
Just then, Elara skidded to a stop near a silver willow tree. She tilted her head, frowning at a withered rose that hadn't bloomed like the others. Her small fingers hovered over the bud.
"Why are you sad?" she whispered to it.
She didn't know why she spoke to flowers—only that she always had.
And then it happened.
A faint glow pulsed from her fingertips. Pale gold, soft and slow, like sunrise through morning mist. The bud trembled… and then bloomed.
Carl and Maika both stood up from the terrace at the same time.
"Elara!" Maika called.
The child turned around, confused. "I didn't touch it! It just opened!"
Maika rushed down the stairs, kneeling before her. "What did you feel?"
"I don't know," Elara said, staring at her hand. "It was like something… tickled my fingers."
Maika gently took her hand and turned it palm up. The child's skin shimmered faintly, as if moonlight was trapped beneath it.
Carl knelt beside them, his eyes narrowing. "That's not just magic…"
"It's ancestral," Maika confirmed. "A mixture of old bloodlines waking."
"But she's too young—" Carl began.
"No," Maika said, her tone more a whisper than a word. "She's right on time."
---
Later that night...
Elara was supposed to be asleep.
Instead, she sat by her window, legs tucked under her, looking at the stars. She could feel something—something stirring deep in her chest. Like a song without words.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," she called.
It was Maika, carrying a soft blanket and a candleholder.
"You should be in bed, little moonflower," she said with a warm smile.
Elara frowned. "I… I feel strange, Nana."
Maika knelt beside her. "Strange how?"
"Like… like I'm glowing. On the inside." Elara touched her chest. "And when I'm happy or scared or angry… it gets louder."
Maika sighed, brushing a silver lock behind Elara's ear. "You're beginning to awaken, Elara. Your power is like a seed. And now it's starting to grow."
"Is it… bad?" she asked quietly.
Maika shook her head. "No, darling. But it is powerful. Which means you must learn to control it before others try to take it from you."
Elara's eyes widened. "The bad people who hurt Kylan?"
Maika nodded slowly. "Yes. But we won't let them find you. You're safe here, with me. With Grandpapa Carl. With the land itself."
Elara tilted her head. "The land?"
Maika smiled. "The Landon estate was built on sacred ground. Long ago, the elves sang over this land, and the earth remembers their voices. It responds to certain kinds of magic."
Elara turned back to the stars, her voice a whisper. "Will I hurt people like Mama did… when she was scared?"
Maika paused.
"No. You will only hurt those who try to hurt you."
The hidden garden—beneath the willow tree
Maika drew a sigil in the soil with powdered moonroot, then guided Elara to stand inside the circle.
"I want you to close your eyes," she said, voice calm and firm. "And breathe. Just breathe."
Elara obeyed.
"Now I want you to imagine a thread—golden and glowing—rising from your belly to the sky."
Elara did.
It pulsed, warm and soft.
"Now feel the ground beneath you. The soil. The roots. The water under the stone. It's all there, Elara. You're not separate from it."
And suddenly, she wasn't.
She felt it.
Every blade of grass around her. The whisper of a sleeping worm beneath the roots. The sadness of a dying flower. The joy of new buds.
And in her chest, that golden thread unraveled—spreading warmth through her veins.
A sudden burst of light surged around her, and Maika stepped back as vines gently curled up from the ground, dancing around the child in intricate spirals. The sigil pulsed like a heartbeat.
Elara opened her eyes, glowing with power. Her irises shimmered silver and gold.
"I can hear them," she said. "The flowers. The wind. The magic."
Maika's eyes glistened. "You're beginning to awaken, moonflower."
That night...
Elara sat by her window again, holding the plush deer Carl had given her. She whispered to it, like she did to the rose.
"I think I'm not normal," she told it. "But maybe that's okay."
Down the hall, Maika stood quietly with Carl.
"She's progressing faster than I thought," Maika said. "By the next full moon, I fear she may break through the concealment spell entirely."
"And then Caveen will know," Carl whispered.
"Yes."
Carl looked down the hall toward Elara's door. "Will it destroy him?"
Maika shook her head. "No. It will awaken him."