The deeper Emma walked, the denser the air became... not in an oppressive way, but in a way that made the space feel occupied, as if something unseen lingered within the atmosphere, pressing gently against her skin. It was a strange sensation, like stepping into a place where she did not entirely belong, yet she moved forward without hesitation.
Then, the wind spoke.
Soft, almost hesitant, yet clear within her mind.
Stop here…
Her steps halted immediately. She didn’t move further, standing still as her eyes scanned the surroundings. There was nothing visibly out of place, just the quiet hum of the forest, the subtle rustling of unseen creatures, the scent of damp earth mixed with the faint aroma of unknown flora. Yet, there was something. A presence. A whisper of something just beyond her reach.
Then the wind spoke again.
Here… Here… Here…
The layered voices drifted into her consciousness, each syllable merging and overlapping in an unsettling yet magical harmonious chorus. The wind itself seemed to guide her, its invisible fingers tugging her toward a singular point.
She followed.
The path led her to a tree unlike any other. It stood apart from the rest, its trunk stretching high with branches that sprawled like celestial arms, their tips adorned with shimmering fruits that pulsed faintly, as though each held a tiny, breathing light within. The bark wasn’t a dull brown like the others; instead, it had an iridescent hue, faintly glowing with a color that seemed to shift whenever she tried to focus on it. It was beautiful, mesmerizing even, but there was something about it, something unspoken, something waiting.
Her gaze drifted lower, and then she saw it.
A hollow.
A perfectly shaped hole nestled within the tree’s trunk. It wasn’t jagged or malformed, but smooth and circular, burrowed deep in a way that suggested it had been made deliberately. A nesting ground, perhaps. It was the only reasonable conclusion.
Emma’s curiosity deepened..
She took a step closer.
Another.
Her fingers twitched slightly at her sides, her breath steady but measured. There was no immediate sense of danger, yet she remained cautious. Leaning forward, she peered inside the hollow, prepared for anything, an animal, an unseen force, just something unexpected....
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But what she found was simple.
An egg.
Medium-sized, white, unassuming, at first glance, nothing about it stood out. But then she noticed the crack. A thin, jagged line stretched across the top, splitting it almost halfway, as though something had tried to emerge but never completed the process.
Emma’s shoulders eased slightly. It was just an egg. Likely abandoned or left behind.
She was ready to turn away when something caught her eye.
A single drop.
Dark. Viscous.
It slid down the cracked shell, slow and slippery, pooling at the base like ink bleeding onto parchment.
Emma’s brows furrowed.
Her gaze sharpened as she leaned in closer, inspecting the interior through the broken top.
Inside, the yolk had turned black.
Yet, strangely, it had not dried up. The liquid still remained, thick and unmoving, almost as if it were frozen by time. Something was wrong. An egg should not be like this.
For a brief moment, she considered leaving it. There was no logical reason to stay.
And yet…
A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips.
Not because of what she found.
But because of what she was about to try.
Emma inhaled deeply, steadying herself as she cast her gaze again upon the egg. A thought lingered in her mind, a curiosity wrapped in purpose.
Why not use this as a test?
A test to manifest healing magic.
The idea made her exhale, slow and measured, as she closed her eyes. Her fingers twitched slightly at her sides before she brought her hands together, palms hovering just above the egg’s shell. Darkness faded behind her closed eyelids, replaced by the vivid recollections of her mother’s teachings.. memories woven from the countless hours spent in her parents’ library, absorbing knowledge from both spoken wisdom and ink-pressed pages.
"Healing magic is the greenery joy of the utmost part of life. It is a warmth that soothes other warmth, a health that restores other healths, a life that resurrects other lives."
Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, clear and steady, as if she were standing beside her once again.
Emma allowed herself to sink into the thought, embracing it fully.
She imagined it... the nature of healing magic, its softness, its purpose. She envisioned its flow, like the steady stream of a river nurturing the land it passes, like the breath of wind that carries the scent of blooming flowers. It was warmth, yet not burning. Light, yet not blinding. A touch that mended, a force that restored.
And then, she felt it.
A gentle pulse.
A soft, rhythmic glow began to form in the space between her fingers. It started as a mere flicker, delicate as a candle’s flame, before expanding into something more...ba green light, rich and vibrant, pulsing like the steady ebb and flow of the tide.
Emma’s eyes fluttered open, and the moment she saw it, a quiet smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
There it is.
She lowered her hands, bringing them closer to the fractured egg, and as soon as the soft green glow touched the shell, the light flowed seamlessly into it, spreading like water finding its path through the cracks. The magic seeped inward, wrapping around the darkened yolk, saturating it with something pure.
The blackness within the egg flickered, its color shifting as the energy wove through it. The fractured shell began to mend, piece by piece, the cracks smoothing over as if time itself had reversed. What had once been a broken, lifeless thing now stood whole, pristine and new, as though it had never been damaged at all.
Emma nodded lightly.
That should do it.
With a careful touch, she lifted the egg, cradling it in her palms. It was warm now, carrying a faint energy beneath its surface, yet it was stable, whole.
"Time to place you back in your nest, little one,"
