Page 3

Chapter 2

The soft glow of the charmstone by my front door welcomed me, its gentle warmth a familiar comfort after a long day. I brushed my fingers over it, ensuring the wards were still in place, as I always did without thinking.

The next thing I saw was Elias’s wide grin as he sprinted out of the kitchen.

“Hello, birthday boy!” I greeted him, dropping to my knees and holding my arms open.

He threw himself against me, and I hugged him tightly, breathing in the scent of sunshine and the faint hint of sweat that always seemed to cling to him. It felt like just yesterday he was a tiny bundle in my arms, barely able to grasp my finger. Now, he was growing so fast, too fast, into the spitting image of his father—though with my softer features and his own mischievous smile.

“I missed you,” I said, pulling back just enough to look at his face. “Did you have a good day?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “We made a crown from the flowers in the yard!” He pointed to the small, woven crown now perched slightly askew on his head.

I smiled, reaching up to straighten it. “You look like a proper little prince.”

Elias beamed, puffing out his chest with pride. “Mrs. Crumble said the flowers will bring me good luck.”

At the mention of his sitter, I glanced over to see the elderly brownie woman emerging from the shadows of the kitchen, her small, wiry frame almost blending in with the dim light. She was no taller than Elias, her skin a warm brown, with tufts of moss-like hair peeking out from under a cap made of what looked like stitched-together leaves. Her large, round eyes twinkled as she cradled a tiny cup of tea. She had been with us for years now, slipping into our lives just when I needed her most.

“Thank you, Mrs. Crumble,” I said warmly. “Are you sure I can't pay you properly?”

“Don’t fuss now,” she said, waving me off. “Just leave me one of those rolls I smell from your basket, and I'll come to collect it tonight after I finish my errands.”

I smiled, shaking my head at our familiar routine. “I could leave you more than that, or... at least stay and eat with us.”

But she shook her head. “No, no. You two have your evening. Don’t worry about a thing, Soraya. I’ll be just fine.”

I nodded, though part of me still wished she would stay. “Thank you, Mrs. Crumble. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Her smile deepened, her eyes twinkling. “Well, lucky for you, you won’t have to find out.” She patted Elias’s head and nodded to me before she gave a little twirl. In a blink, she was gone, leaving behind only the faint scent of wildflowers and the soft rustle of leaves.

“Alright, my little prince,” I said, turning back to him. “How about we see what Thyri sent for your birthday?”

Elias’s eyes lit up as he raced to the small table in the corner of the room, climbing into his usual seat. I followed, setting the bundle of sweet rolls on the table and carefully unwrapping them. The scent of cinnamon and sugar filled the air, and Elias clapped his hands in excitement.

I placed the sweet rolls on the table, their golden-brown tops glistening with sugar, and handed Elias the biggest one. “Now, you remember what to do?”

Elias nodded, his small hands cupping the roll.

We both leaned in, our faces close to the bread, following the birthday tradition everyone in Everwood grew up with—wishing over sweet rolls. It was said that the hearth spirits who made the bread carried wishes to the Alder trees, where the Seven might hear and grant them.

“Close your eyes and make your wish,” I reminded him.

Elias shut his eyes tightly, his brow furrowing in concentration. I followed suit, feeling the warmth of the roll beneath my chin, and whispered my wish quietly into the sweet, sugary surface.

“May this year bring Elias happiness and health. And may I find the strength to give him the life he deserves.”

When our wishes were made, we both opened our eyes and, in unison, gently tapped the tops of our sweet rolls, sealing the wishes inside before happily digging in.

As the evening wore on, I cleaned up the table and helped Elias change into his nightclothes. We followed the familiar routine—brushing his teeth, tidying up his toys, and finally, tucking him into bed.

His eyes were already growing heavy with sleep as I pulled the blanket up to his chin. The flower crown hung crookedly from the bedpost, a reminder of the day's adventures.

“Want to know my wish?” Elias asked in a sleepy whisper.

I hesitated, not wanting to pry. “Only if you want to share it.”

He nodded, his small hand reaching out to take mine. “I wished that we could have Papa’s forge working again, so we could be like we were before.”