Chapter 18: A New Light

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The night was heavy with the weight of recent loss as Clara and Zoe sat side by side beneath the great branches of the Tree of Magus. The stars above peeked through the foliage, casting a pale, ethereal light over the sprawling roots and winding paths of the ancient sanctuary. Clara had always felt the air here held a weighty wisdom, as if the great tree had witnessed millennia of secrets and struggles.


After the ceremony, Clara found Zoe sitting alone by a gently flowing stream that wound through the roots of the tree. Her pink and green hair seemed out of place against the somber atmosphere, a bright splash of color in a world dimmed by grief. 



Clara approached cautiously, unsure of what to say. The girl was still reeling from the events of the day, her small form hunched and trembling with quiet sobs.

"Zoe?" Clara said softly, her voice almost lost in the gentle rush of the water. Zoe looked up, her face streaked with tears.

Clara opened her mouth to speak but found herself at a loss for words. Comforting others had never been her strength—especially when she felt so torn apart inside. She cleared her throat, searching for something to say. "Are... are you okay?"

Zoe tried to smile, but it was a fragile thing, crumbling at the edges. "I—I think so." she whispered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her attempt to regain composure was valiant, but Clara could see the exhaustion weighing heavily on the girl's small shoulders.

Not knowing what else to do, Clara fumbled into her cloak and pulled out a small piece of biscuit she'd been carrying from earlier. "Do you... want a biscuit?" she offered awkwardly, holding it out like an olive branch.

Zoe let out a small laugh, a sound somewhere between relief and despair. She reached out, accepting the offering with a nod.

"Thank you." she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable but contemplative.

After a few moments, Zoe broke the quiet. "Did you know Lucius used to bring me biscuits, too?" she asked, her eyes fixed on the stream. "Whenever I was struggling or upset, he'd show up with one in hand. He called them 'small comforts.'"

Clara didn't respond, unsure of what to say. She wasn't used to people sharing their memories with her. She wasn't used to having people at all.

"He was always so kind," Zoe continued, her voice thick with emotion. "He didn't treat me like I was some fragile, broken thing. He made me feel... safe." She looked up at Clara, and there was something vulnerable in her gaze. "Lucius used to say that magic wasn't just about power, but about connection. He taught me to channel my inner magic by finding stillness, by learning to listen to the silence within myself."

Clara tilted her head slightly, intrigued despite herself. "How did he train you?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Zoe took a deep breath, as if drawing courage from the memory. "He would take me to the meditation chambers in the deepest part of the tree," she explained. "There, it was quiet enough to hear the rustling of every leaf and the heartbeat of the tree itself. He'd have me sit in the center, close my eyes, and focus on finding the 'thread' of my magic—like a whisper inside me. He said that every person's magic is unique, like a fingerprint or a melody."

Zoe's voice grew softer, almost reverent. "He'd say, 'Zoe, your gift isn't a curse. It's a thread in the tapestry of the world. You just have to find where it fits.'" She smiled faintly at the memory, the pain of loss still evident in her eyes, but there was something else there, too—a quiet strength.

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