The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting long shadows on the sugar-glass walls of the house. Rosina sat at the head of the table, her sharp eyes fixed on Hansel and Gretel, who fidgeted under her gaze. Hansel stared at the wooden carving in his hand, while Gretel crossed her arms tightly, her expression locked in defiance.

“You’re like fireflies in a jar,” Rosina said at last, her tone calm but piercing. “All that energy, all that light—and no idea what to do with it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gretel asked, narrowing her eyes.

Rosina leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “It means you have gifts, both of you. Quick minds, boundless energy. But instead of using them, you let them control you. Your impulses, your distractions, your impatience—they’re not weaknesses, my dears. They’re power. Untamed power.”

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Hansel looked up, confused. “Power? How is not being able to sit still a power?”

Rosina’s lips quirked into a knowing smile. “You see more than most people, Hansel. You notice the small things—the details others miss because they’re too busy walking their narrow paths. And you,” she said, turning to Gretel, “you have energy that could set the world on fire. It makes you restless, yes, but it also makes you brave. Curious. You’re the one who charges forward while others hesitate.”

Gretel’s scowl deepened. “And what good is that if it just gets us into trouble?”

Rosina’s expression softened, though her tone stayed firm. “Left untamed, fire burns wild. It destroys. But with care, it can light the way. Warm your hands. Cook your food. The same is true for you. Your fire, your energy, your quick minds—they’re tools. And it’s time you learned how to use them.”

Hansel tilted his head, his curiosity outweighing his nervousness. “How?”

Rosina straightened in her chair, her silver hair catching the firelight like threads of moonlight. “You’ll each have tasks. Small ones, to start. And if you succeed, you’ll see for yourselves what I mean.”