Echoes of Magic

Threshold of Destiny

The next morning, John awoke to the lingering threads of his dream, the same dream he'd had the day before. This time, though, he felt a renewed excitement coursing through him. There was something there, some meaning hidden within the visions he couldn't shake. He knew he needed answers, and there was only one person who could help him find them. 

 Quickly finishing his breakfast, he practically dashed out of the house, eager to reach his grandmother's cottage. When he arrived, he could hear the soft clinking of pots from the kitchen. He peered inside, spotting both Morgana and his Aunt Elena, busy with their morning routine.

"Good morning, Grandma!" John called with a grin, stepping into the room. Morgana looked up, her face lighting up as she saw him. 

 "John, dear! You're early today!" she replied, her voice warm with affection. 

 "Could we go outside to the garden?" he asked. "I've got... some questions." Morgana raised a curious brow, but she nodded and set aside what she was doing. 

 A few moments later, they strolled out to the garden, sunlight filtering softly through the trees, casting gentle patterns on the grass. They sat on the bench, and after a pause, John finally spoke up. 

 "Grandma," he began hesitantly, "how did you... I mean, do you know a lot about magic? I know you've told me stories, but they... they feel so real." 

 Morgana chuckled softly, a sparkle in her eyes. "Oh, I know a fair bit, John. More than enough to keep your imagination running wild, it seems!" 

John pressed on, undeterred. "But where does the magic come from? Is it something that just... exists? Or did someone create it?" 

Morgana's smile softened, and she answered with a playful shrug. "Some say magic has always been here, as natural as the trees and rivers. It's part of everything, hidden for those who truly wish to see it." 

 John leaned in, his curiosity building. "Then... who was the fairy mother?" 

 Morgana's expression shifted, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. For a moment, she looked at him as if searching for answers of her own. Then, trying to cover up her reaction, she said dismissively, "Oh, fairy mother? That's just an old legend, nothing more." 

 But John wasn't convinced. "I've seen her in my dreams, Grandma," he said earnestly, his voice filled with a vulnerability that surprised even himself. "It's been haunting me since I was little... these visions, these dreams. I see her. I see strange things that I don't understand. They're too real to ignore." 

 Morgana's face grew serious as she studied him, lost in thought. Why was he seeing these things? She wondered if there was something deeper at play, something she hadn't accounted for. 

 Suddenly, John blurted out his true desire. "If I had magical powers, maybe I could figure out why these dreams keep coming to me. Please, give me the power to explore it. I want to know... I need to know." 

Morgana's expression darkened. "John, I will never give you any sort of magical power," she replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Some things are best left unknown. Go back home and help your mother with her work." 

She rose from the bench, clearly intending to leave. But just then, Nathasha appeared, walking over with a curious look on her face. "I saw you two from afar," she said, smiling. "What's all the serious talk about?" 

 John's frustration boiled over. "Grandma doesn't want me to live peacefully," he said angrily. "She has secrets, Nathasha. She's a fairy, and she won't tell me anything!"

 Nathasha laughed, shaking her head. "John, you've been listening to too many fairy tales! Now you're even saying that Grandma is a fairy?" She chuckled. "You really need to stop letting these stories get to your head. They're just fairy tales!" 

 John's frustration intensified. "Why don't you believe me?" he shouted, his voice louder than he'd intended. Morgana, watching him closely, felt a twinge of fear inside. She had never seen this side of John, not in all his thirteen years. 

 Nathasha's expression hardened. "Don't yell at me, John! Just because you're having wild ideas doesn't mean you can take it out on me!" 

 Morgana realized she had to step in. "Enough, Nathasha," she said quietly. "There's no point in pretending. John knows I'm a fairy." 

 Nathasha's mouth dropped open, her eyes widening in shock. "Wait... really?" 

Morgana sighed and looked at John, her expression softening. "Calm down, John. I'm not going to punish you for revealing my secret because Nathasha..." She took a breath. "Nathasha is a fairy too." 

John's anger momentarily gave way to shock. "Nathasha is... a fairy?" 

But the anger quickly returned, and he looked at Morgana with fierce determination. "If you won't give me powers and make me one of you," he said, voice trembling with frustration, "then I'll tell everyone your secrets!" 

Morgana froze, knowing the risk. If even a few people believed John's story, she and Nathasha could be accused of witchcraft. She'd seen what the fairy mother had endured—though John didn't know that yet. 

 Her mind raced as she decided what to do. She reached out, intending to cast a spell to erase his memory of her secret. But before she could finish, John stepped back, a flash of understanding in his eyes. "Don't you dare try to make me forget, Morgana," he warned. "I'll never let you erase my memories." 

 Morgana hesitated, realizing the depth of his resolve. A powerful rule of magic suddenly weighed on her: if someone didn't willingly want a particular memory erased, attempting the spell would have grave consequences. She was bound by that rule and knew she couldn't proceed.Left with no other choice, Morgana looked at him intently, her eyes resigned. "Very well, John," she said, her voice calm but firm. "Tomorrow at dawn, come to the garden. Nathasha and I will take you to our world." 

She looked him over one last time, as though assessing his resolve. "There, you will be given your powers, as you wish."Without another word, Morgana turned and made her way back into the house, with Nathasha following closely behind. 

The morning sunlight filtered softly through the trees, casting delicate patterns on the ground, but John barely noticed. His mind raced with thoughts of what awaited him at dawn. 

As he walked back home, he replayed Morgana's words in his head. This choice cannot be undone. It felt like a warning and a promise all at once. Tomorrow, he would enter a world he had only heard of in stories, a world he was finally about to become part of. 

At last, he would find answers—and maybe even uncover the meaning behind the visions that had haunted him for so long.

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for reading! I'm working hard to make this story as captivating as possible, and I'd love to know what you think so far. If there's anything that really stands out to you—characters, scenes, or even specific details that make you curious—I'd be grateful to hear your thoughts.

Do you feel engaged with the characters and story? Are there parts you think could be even better? Your feedback helps me improve and is really encouraging as I continue writing. Please feel free to leave a comment or message me. Thanks for joining me on this journey with John, Morgana, and Nathasha!