Aster breathed in the cold morning air deeply, letting it fill his lungs. The sharp, clean smell of winter beginning—frost on grass, wood smoke from distant chimneys, the crisp scent of fallen leaves—it all felt refreshing after the stuffiness of the mansion.
"I should wake up early every morning," he said to himself, a genuine smile touching his lips. "It's so relaxing."
He continued walking without any particular destination, his hands in his jacket pockets, his breath visible in small clouds. More people were beginning to emerge now as the city woke up—shopkeepers opening their doors, workers heading to their jobs, a few early morning joggers.
Several of them nodded or waved as they passed, recognizing him even in his casual state.
After a few minutes of wandering, Aster spotted a bench positioned beside a street lamp near the edge of the Central Park. The lamp was just flickering off as the morning light grew strong enough to make it unnecessary.
He sat down gratefully, letting himself rest. The bench was wide enough for three people, made of ornate wrought iron and polished wood. From this position, he had a perfect view of the park stretching out before him.
And there, dominating the center of the park, stood the ancient oak tree.
Massive and gnarled, its trunk wider than three men standing side by side, its branches spreading out like the arms of a guardian watching over the entire space. Even with most of its leaves gone now, surrendered to autumn, it remained magnificent.
"This brings back so many memories," Aster said softly, his smile becoming tinged with melancholy.
He could see it all in his mind's eye—running through these very paths as a child, his friends laughing beside him. Playing tag around the old oak tree, its trunk serving as home base. Climbing into its lower branches when they were supposed to be at their lessons.
"All my old friends," he murmured, and his smile widened even as his chest tightened with loss. "Some of them went abroad for education. Some got so busy with family businesses that we never get time to see each other anymore."
When had it all ended? There had been no dramatic farewell, no final gathering where they'd all promised to stay in touch. Just... life. People moving away. Schedules becoming incompatible. Letters growing less frequent until they stopped entirely.
"Why does it have to end without a proper farewell?" he wondered aloud.
His thoughts drifted unbidden to the party last night—to the real reason he'd felt so unsettled even before all the strange occurrences.
"I could have approached her there," he said quietly, feeling that familiar ache of regret. "But I'm just not confident enough."
She'd been so beautiful, standing across the crowded hall in her elegant dress, talking and laughing with other nobles. He'd rehearsed what he might say a hundred times in his mind, but every scenario ended with him making a fool of himself. Better to admire from a distance than risk the humiliation.
His mind wandered back further, to simpler times. He could almost hear the creaking of the seesaws as he and his friends took turns launching each other into the air. The breathless excitement of hide and seek, squeezing into impossible spaces to avoid being found. The thrill and terror when their football had gone astray and shattered a shop window, all of them running away as fast as their young legs could carry them.
"I wish I could go back," Aster said, his voice barely a whisper.
Just then, the world seemed to respond to his longing.
The sky brightened suddenly, dramatically. The first direct rays of sunlight broke over the buildings to the east, spilling across the park in streams of golden light. The clouds that had lingered from the previous night's storm scattered and dissolved, leaving only clear blue sky.
The ancient oak tree seemed to glow in that morning light, its remaining leaves turning amber and gold, its bark warming from gray to rich brown.
Aster watched the sunrise, transfixed. Despite everything—the confusion, the fear, the strange events of last night—this moment felt pure. Peaceful. Real in a way that cut through all his doubts and anxieties.
He felt something in his chest relax, some knot of tension he'd been carrying unwinding. His breathing deepened and slowed. His racing thoughts calmed.
The sun continued its ascent, painting the world in warm colors, and for just this moment, everything was all right.
---
**Back at the Thornwood mansion...**
*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*
The shrill sound of an alarm clock shattered the quiet of the second floor.
In a bedroom very different from Aster's, a small hand emerged from beneath a thick pink comforter and slapped at the offending device until it fell silent.
Lily's room was decorated in shades of pink and cream, with floral curtains and plush toys occupying every available surface. A neat study desk sat beside her bed, currently covered with textbooks and perfectly organized notes. Her lamp was shaped like a fairy, a gift from her mother years ago.
The bed itself was notably larger than Aster's—something she never let him forget when they argued.
"Time for school," Lily muttered sleepily, her voice muffled by her pillow.
She pushed the comforter off reluctantly, and immediately the cold morning air hit her. She gasped and shivered. "It's freezing! Winter has really started."
But then she brightened slightly, sitting up and yawning. "That means the holiday break is coming soon, at least."
With a small gesture of her hand—her magic responding automatically to her will, more naturally than it did for most children her age—the lamps around her room flickered to life, casting warm light across the space.
Lily swung her legs out of bed and went through her morning routine with practiced efficiency. Unlike her brother, she took her studies seriously and prided herself on never being late. She selected her school uniform from the wardrobe, dressed quickly, and tied her dark hair back in its usual neat braid.
Within twenty minutes, she was ready and heading downstairs.
"Good morning, Miss Lily!" the maids chorused as she entered the ground floor. "Happy birthday to your brother!"
"Good morning, everyone," Lily replied with a smile, accepting a plate of breakfast from one of them.
Her father was still in the sitting area, reading his newspaper. He looked up as she approached and smiled warmly. "Good morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?"
"Yes, thank you, Father." She sat down across from him, beginning to eat her breakfast.
Her eyes drifted to the television, which was still on but muted. The news was showing images of darkened city streets, shadowy figures enhanced to be more visible, interviews with worried-looking residents.
The headline scrolling across the bottom read: "DARK SPIRIT SIGHTINGS CONTINUE - OFFICIALS URGE CALM."
"Do you believe in these things, Dad?" Lily asked, gesturing at the screen with her fork. "Dark spirits and ghosts and all that supernatural stuff?"
Her father's smile became something more complex—part amusement, part seriousness. He lowered his newspaper slightly. "I thought it was all superstition and old wives' tales for most of my life," he admitted. "But I've seen them with my own eyes. So yes, I believe."
Lily's eyes widened. "Really? When did you see them?"
"That's a story for another time," he said, turning the page of his newspaper. "But don't worry, sweetheart. They're not that strong right now. The kingdom's mages keep them in check. You're perfectly safe."
*Honk honk!*
The sound of a horn came from outside—her school bus arriving right on schedule.
"That's me," Lily said, quickly finishing her juice. She grabbed her school bag from beside the door. "Bye, Dad! Have a good day!"
"Study hard, sweetheart."
She waved and hurried out the door, closing it behind her with a soft click.
The yellow school bus was waiting at the end of their long driveway. Lily climbed aboard, greeting the driver cheerfully and finding her usual seat near the middle. A few of her classmates were already there, and they waved to her.
As the bus pulled away, she looked back through the window at the mansion. Her father was visible through the window, still reading his newspaper in that same position.
The bus turned a corner, and the mansion disappeared from view.
---