A New Beginning part 11

Talking, dancing, and singing, we reached the town. After deciding on a time to meet the next day, my sister and I rushed towards our house.

Upon reaching Fleur's house, we found a solemn atmosphere inside. Aunt Apolline and my mother sitting together, while Uncle Cadmus and my father stood with Minnie. On the table lay a few pictures. Fleur and I exchanged glances before walking in. The moment my mother saw me enter, she rushed to hug me. My father kept looking at me, perhaps searching for any injuries. Finding me unharmed, he let out a sigh of relief.

It was the same with Uncle Cadmus and Aunt Apolline. They both scolded Fleur for taking me near the fairies, but at the same time, I could see the concern in their eyes.

"How did you know?" I asked in an innocent, milky voice.

My father, perhaps finding my question naive, replied, "We asked Minnie to follow both of you from a distance to keep an eye on you."

My mother took over, her voice filled with worry. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? It wasn't just one fairy, but an entire group—hundreds of them! You also had the other children with you. It was incredibly irresponsible of both of you, Mr. Aimè DuPont and Miss Fleur Delacour. Do you understand?"

One thing I had learned early on was that whenever my mother used my full name, it meant she was very angry. Now that she had said mine and my sister's, I knew I was definitely going to be punished.

Aunt Apolline interjected at this point. "Tomorrow, Fleur, you can have your friends come over. All of you can play in the backyard."

I noticed my sister panicking. Although she was under Aunt Apolline's glare, warning her not to speak further, she still raised her voice and said, "But the fairies invited us to their fairyland!"

Aunt Apolline opened her mouth to scold Fleur again but paused upon hearing this. Uncle Cadmus couldn't sit still and said, "Fleur, it's not good to lie. It's not okay to lie. We must always tell the truth, even when it's hard. Sweetheart, telling the truth is always the best way. It may be difficult, but it helps everyone in the long run."

At this point, I spoke up. "No, it's true! I spoke with the fairies. They invited us for tomorrow morning, very early."

Both couples exchanged confused glances before looking at Minnie.

Minnie then spoke to my father. "Master, I was standing far from Master Aimè, as you ordered. I saw the fairies surrounding them, and then they left. After that, I only saw the children rejoicing and laughing."

Then, to our surprise, she started punishing herself. "Ah! Bad elf, stupid elf! You can't protect young master. You can't help master. Useless, useless..."

My mother immediately intervened. "Stop!"

At that moment, another house elf approached Uncle Cadmus and whispered something in his ear. Uncle Cadmus suddenly rushed outside. Seeing this, we followed.

Outside, a crowd had gathered. Parents stood with their children—the same ones who had accompanied Aimè and Fleur earlier. The atmosphere buzzed with nervous energy. Murmurs of confusion filled the air as parents questioned their children about fairies and invitations.

One child's lie could be dismissed. But when every child insisted on the same story, the truth became harder to ignore.

The crowd found Mr.Delacour come of the house and looked over.

As soon as I stepped out, I heard-

"He's the one who spoke to them!" an elven boy shouted, pointing at me. "The fairies didn't hurt us. They only talked to him!"

The height disadvantage was frustrating. I tugged at my mother's hand and stretched my arms upward, signaling that I wanted to be carried. She lifted me, and suddenly, the world looked different. My eyes scanned the familiar faces in the crowd. Spotting them, I smiled and waved.

Seeing the children waving at one direction, the parents looked over.

A hush fell over the gathering. The parents, mesmerized, watched me in quiet fascination. The wind played with my golden hair, making me look almost ethereal. My chubby cheeks dimpled with laughter, my small legs dangled in excitement. Some parents exchanged glances, whispering about the veela bloodline.

'Row' chirped suddenly, breaking the trance, and pointed to the sky. Following his gaze, I saw a falcon approaching.

The great bird descended, circling above before gracefully dropping a letter directly into my father's hands. It then perched on a nearby tree branch, watching us. My mother couldn't help but exclaim in surprise, "It's a pure white Peregrine Falcon! "

Hearing this I couldn't help but think whether colour of a bird plays any role in letter delivery. As my father carefully unfolded the letter, I whispered to Row, "Go talk to the falcon."

My father's face drained of color as he read. His fingers trembled slightly as he turned the letter over, scanning the sender's name.

Evelyn, sensing something was amiss, stepped forward while still holding me. "What is it?"

My father said nothing, simply pointing to the name.

Curiosity burned inside me. I leaned forward, peeking at the sender. The titles listed beneath the name made my head spin. My eyes widened as I read:

"From, Highness Rosalind,

High Priestess of the Temple of Goddess Demeter,

Member of the Silvermoon and Starflame Assembly,

Queen of the Crystal Stream Fairyland, Member of the International Confederation of Wizards."

A mixture of relief and frustration settled in my chest. Finally, proof that I wasn't lying. But frustration followed close behind—how was I supposed to understand the customs and history of all the magical races at my age? I really wanted to know the meaning behind each Title, more than that how did the white falcon find me?

While I wrestled with my emotions, the letter was passed around. Each parent read it, their brows furrowed in deep thought. Seeing their confusion made me feel less alone in my own.

The last person to examine the letter stepped forward and handed it back. "The letter, its sender, and its contents are all authentic."

The crowd turned to him in surprise. I recognized him now—an elf, his pointed ears hidden beneath his hat. He continued, "I work at the French Ministry of Magic in the Department of Celestial and Terrestrial Affairs. I frequently correspond with priestesses of various temples. The stamp and signature on this letter are real. This is no prank."

A murmur of disbelief spread through the parents. "Then… our children were truly invited to the fairyland?" one of them asked hesitantly.

A dwarven parent stepped forward. "Fairyland isn't a place on Earth. My ancestors once traded with the fairies, and I've heard the old stories. It's said that when the first rays of sunlight touch a flower bed inhabited by flower fairies, a gateway opens—a realm protected by Goddess Demeter. That realm is called Fairyland."

Sleepiness crept over me. I wanted to continue listening, but exhaustion from the day's excitement weighed down my eyelids. The warmth of my mother's embrace was too comforting to resist. Slowly, despite my best efforts, I drifted into sleep.

.....

In my sleep, I floated weightlessly, confirming that I was witnessing a vision. Whether it was of the past or the future, I could not tell. Before me stood a grand palace, magnificent yet sorrowful. Within its walls, a lady smiled warmly, her love devoted entirely to her daughter. However, in the wake of her daughter's disappearance, she was consumed by grief and despair.

The once vibrant palace, filled with laughter and joy, became a somber sanctuary. Her days were spent in mourning, her heart heavy with sorrow. She neglected her duties and the world above reflected her pain. The once fertile lands grew barren, and the vibrant colors of nature faded into muted hues, mirroring her desolation.

Her grief was all-encompassing. She wandered the palace halls, her footsteps echoing through the empty chambers. The memories of her daughter's laughter and playful spirit haunted her, intensifying her longing. The once comforting presence of her daughter's belongings now served only as painful reminders of her absence.

The autumn season mirrored the lady's sorrow. The once-bright foliage turned into shades of gold and red, symbolizing the fading warmth of life. The falling leaves represented the tears she could no longer shed, and the barren fields reflected the emptiness in her heart.

Seeking solace, she withdrew into solitude. She retreated to her private chambers, where she grieved undisturbed. The palace staff, once bustling with activity, moved in hushed reverence, respecting her pain. Her only companions were her memories and the weight of her loss.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, yet her grief remained unwavering. The palace, once a symbol of abundance and life, became a reflection of her despair.

Seeing this, my heart ached. Tears welled in my eyes.

"I don't remember the last time I had a guest in my palace," a voice suddenly startled me.

Turning around, I saw the same lady standing with her back to me, gazing out at the garden. I was taken aback. Never before had I experienced a vision where people could interact with me. After all, I was present, but not in a literal sense.

"Do you like flowers?" she asked.

I stepped beside her and nodded. She looked at me gently and extended her hand. Hesitantly, I reached out and held it. In an instant, we were transported to a vast, breathtaking garden.

A myriad of colors formed a carpet of blossoms before me. A gentle breeze carried the sweet fragrance of fresh flowers, filling the air with tranquility. The petals danced gracefully, their delicate movements bringing peace to my soul. Against the bright blue sky, the garden resembled a divine masterpiece, a canvas painted by nature itself.

I felt a soft pat on my head. Looking up, I saw the lady smiling at me, though her eyes held a sadness that could not be hidden.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked, "Did you find your daughter?"

She responded with a gentle smile, her voice laced with sorrow. "Yes, I did find her. But she must stay away from me for six months each year. I cannot help but endure these months alone, watching autumn strip the world of its warmth. Even the flowers leave me, retreating into a deep slumber, only to awaken in spring."

Though she smiled, her words carried a deep, aching sorrow. Feeling a pang of empathy in my heart, I blurted out, "I can stay with you during those six months! I can bring my friends and family, and we can spend time together. We can celebrate Christmas and New Year! You don't have to be alone."

She looked at me, surprised. Then, her usual gentleness returned, and she softly caressed my cheek. "You are certainly different," she murmured with a hint of amusement.

Giving me one last look, she said, "If you wish, you may accompany me." Then, she gently grasped my forearm. When she withdrew her hand, I noticed a golden tattoo had appeared on my skin. A full-bloom flower, its vines twisting gracefully around the stem, shimmered under the light, covering my small forearm.

"Whenever you wish to meet me, touch the flower and speak my name," she instructed. "You will appear before me."

I opened my mouth to ask her name, but before I could speak, a powerful vortex pulled me away from the vision. The last thing I heard was her voice, soft and echoing:

"Demeter."

As I awoke, realization dawned upon me. The lady was none other than Goddess Demeter, and her daughter—was Goddess Persephone.

[ Ding! Received Godess Demeter's Blessing .

Trait received - Guardian Druid. ]