Flight of Frost and Aurora

Chapter 2

The children were enveloped in a cozy warmth that stood in stark contrast to the biting cold outside. The interior of the cottage was just as enchanting as the winter landscape beyond, with walls adorned in intricate carvings depicting both winter scenes and the vibrant blossoms of spring. A large hearth crackled with a welcoming fire, casting flickering shadows that danced playfully across the room.

"Make yourselves comfortable. We'll have a warm meal ready in no time," Mother Rosamund said, her voice soothing and inviting.

Mother Carmilla moved gracefully to the kitchen, where she began to prepare a feast. The children watched in awe as she waved her hands, and ingredients floated into the air, swirling around her before landing perfectly on the table. Freshly baked bread, steaming bowls of soup, and plates piled high with fruits and sweets appeared as if conjured by magic.

"Wow, how do you do that?" the girl asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

Carmilla smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's a little trick we've picked up over the years. But don't worry, you'll learn all about it soon enough."

As they ate, the sisters shared captivating stories of their adventures in the celestial realm—tales of how they brought the changing seasons to life and tended to the village of Snejotep Haven. The children listened intently, spellbound by the magic and beauty of a world beyond their own.

After the meal, the sisters dazzled them with incredible magic tricks—transforming water and ice into gold, conjuring roses, pearls, and diamonds from thin air, and even dressing rabbits and squirrels in fine coats and gowns. Doves, ravens, and snow owls sang and hooted like instruments, while the rabbits and squirrels danced joyfully around them. The children smiled, laughed, and clapped at the spectacle until it came to a close just after sunset.

Mother Rosamund then led them to a cozy bedroom adorned with soft blankets and pillows that seemed to beckon them to rest. "This will be your room," she said gently. "You can stay here as long as you like. We'll keep you safe and warm."

The children exchanged glances, their hearts swelling with a mix of gratitude and disbelief. They had gone from feeling lost and alone to discovering a home filled with warmth and love.

As they settled into their new beds, the boy turned to the girl. "Do you think this is really happening? Are we dreaming?"

"I don't know," she whispered, her eyes fluttering with sleep. "But I hope it's real."

With that, they drifted off to sleep, lulled by the soft crackling of the fire and the gentle hum of the sisters' laughter echoing in the distance.

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The boy was named Alastor, the son of a butcher and a seamstress. He was crafty, agile, and light on his feet, making him the perfect choice to become Mother Rosamund's frost sprite. Upon his transformation, his warm-toned skin turned pale, his ears became elegantly pointed, and he donned a cloak woven from frost. His dark hair turned red like the fire in a hearth, a striking contrast to his icy demeanor. Alastor reveled in playing tricks on unsuspecting mortals, leaving them breathless in the crisp air, their laughter echoing through the snow-covered woods. His frosty breath could freeze rivers and lakes, create intricate patterns on windows, and conjure delicate snowflakes just like Mother Rosamund. Mischievous by nature and a bit of an instigator, he often pushed boundaries and stirred up trouble. Yet, it was all in good fun, and Rosamund recognized the warm heart that beat beneath his cold exterior, much like her own.

The girl was named Vagatha, a farmer's daughter known for her dutiful spirit and strength, as well as her deep connection to the beauty of nature. It was this bond that led Mother Carmilla to choose her as the sprite of the Aurora Borealis. In her new form, Vagatha's skin took on the hue of fresh lavender, her short hair transformed into long, flowing strands the color of clementine blossoms. She wore a garment of ivy and crystal, and luminescent wings shimmered in hues of emerald and violet on her back. Vagatha painted the skies in vibrant colors, danced among the stars, and guided lost travelers safely home. Her touch could thaw even the strongest ice and rejuvenate the most wilted flower. However, she possessed a fiery temper and often struggled with patience. Yet, Carmilla understood the girl's instinct to act first, recognizing the passion that fueled her spirit.