The wooden door of the cottage creaked as it swung open, the sound breaking the serene quiet of the garden. Light streamed through the doorway, casting long, slanted shadows across the dry grass that carpeted the floor. At the center of the small space sat the magical egg, resting atop a bed of woven straw and soft moss, its surface shimmering faintly in the dim light.
Emma stepped inside, her gaze drawn immediately to the egg. It had always fascinated her... the way its surface seemed to pulse with a subtle glow, as though alive with secrets waiting to be uncovered. She approached it slowly, her footsteps muffled against the grass, and lowered herself to sit cross-legged in front of it.
Her fingers brushed over the egg's cool, smooth surface. “What are you?” she murmured, her voice barely audible in the stillness. The question wasn’t new; she’d asked it countless times in her mind, but the egg remained as enigmatic as ever.
Emma’s hand lingered on the egg as she thought, her curiosity bubbling over. What would happen if it hatched? What’s inside? The possibilities played out in her mind... fantastical creatures, ancient relics, or maybe something entirely unknown. She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Well, let’s see if we can nudge you along,” she said to herself.
Placing both hands firmly on the egg, she closed her eyes and focused. A gentle warmth began to radiate from her palms as she channeled her magic, the flow steady and deliberate. The energy coursed through her, a tingling sensation that filled the air with an almost imperceptible hum.
Her senses attuned to the egg, she could feel something within it.. a faint, pulsing life force. It was subtle but unmistakable, and the realization brought a smile to her lips. It’s alive, and waiting...
The minutes ticked by as she continued, her magic intertwining with the egg’s latent energy. The connection felt natural, as though the two were meant to converge. Finally, she pulled her hands away, exhaling softly. “That should be enough for now,” she said, glancing toward the cottage door. Time was slipping away, and she had promised Anna she’d visit early.
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Emma rose to her feet, brushing bits of straw from her gown. She cast one last glance at the egg, its soft glow reflecting in her unique white eyes, as she turned to leave.
Stepping out, she carefully closed the door behind her, the faint scent of moss and wood lingering in the air.
The garden welcomed her once more, sunlight spilling over the vibrant blooms and dappling the cobblestone path. She walked leisurely, savoring the warmth of the sun and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. Reaching the ivy-strewn walls of her family’s compound, she placed a hand on the wooden gate.
“See you later,” she said softly, her words a quiet promise to her comfort zone..
The cobblestone paths stretched before her, winding through the village. It wasn’t long before a massive oak tree came into view, its sprawling branches reaching high into the sky like nature’s cathedral. Lanterns hung from the tree’s lower limbs, their soft, golden glow contrasting beautifully with the deep green leaves.
At the base of the tree stood Anna’s home, a marvel of craftsmanship and nature. The roots of the oak curled and twisted to form the foundation, lifting the structure above the ground. A grand door, carved from polished wood, was set into the base, its intricate patterns of leaves and vines catching the light.
The front garden was a spectacle of colors.. vivid reds, sunny yellows, and royal purples... each flower seeming to shimmer faintly under the glow of the magical street lamps. Though the sun was still high in the sky, the magical lamps added a touch of enchantment to the scene, making it feel as though dusk had come early.
Emma paused at the beautiful iron-gate, her gaze sweeping over the picturesque sight. She smiled, a mix of admiration and familiarity lighting her face. “This place is always the fanciest in Windfield,” she muttered under her breath.
She pushed open the gate and followed the cobblestone path, her steps light as she approached the towering oak. Each step brought her closer to the door, her anticipation growing. Standing before the polished wood, she hesitated for a brief moment before raising her hand.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound echoed softly, swallowed by the stillness of the garden. Emma clasped her hands together and waited, her heart steady as she prepared to greet her friend.