Hyperborean Alchemist.
Snowflakes, like whispered secrets, dusted the quaint Kingdom of Hyperborea. Inside the warmly lit cottage of the Azeroth family, ten-year-old Godriel’s eyes shone brighter than the fairy lights on the Christmas tree. Beside her, nestled in a worn armchair, sat Grandma Organa, her hands, etched with wisdom, wrapping delicate parcels with twine and holly.
“Grandma,” Godriel whispered, her voice hushed with wonder, “do you think Santa will bring me the moonbeam harp that I had a dream about?”
Grandma Organa chuckled, her eyes twinkling like fallen stars. “My dear, even Santa might find it tricky to pluck a harp from the sky. But,” she winked, “he has a way of making wishes sparkle in unexpected ways.”
Christmas Eve unfolded like a spun-sugar dream. Carols drifted from frost-kissed windows, the aroma of gingerbread filled the air, and laughter danced on crackling flames. Godriel watched her parents exchange knowing smiles, their eyes brimming with a secret she couldn’t yet decipher.
Later, gathered under the twinkling tree, Godriel gasped. Nestled among the traditional gifts lay a wooden box, smooth and polished like moonlight. With trembling fingers, she opened it. Inside, nestled in velvet, lay not a moonbeam harp, but a collection of tiny vials, each filled with a different twinkling light — firefly green, moonlight silver, dandelion gold.
Tears welled in Godriel’s eyes. It wasn’t the harp she’d wished for, but it was something far more magical. She clutched the box, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the crackling fire.
“These, my dear,” Grandma Organa said softly, “are captured whispers of moonlight. When you sprinkle them, they’ll paint the world with your own starlight.”
That night, as the snow fell like whispers and the moon wove its magic, Godriel stepped outside. With a trembling hand, she sprinkled a vial of moonlight onto the snow. It burst into a kaleidoscope of silver, painting the world in a shimmering dreamscape. She laughed, her joy echoing through the silent night, a melody woven from moonlight and family, a gift more precious than any harp.
For Godriel, that Christmas wasn’t about a wish fulfilled, but about the magic of family, the whispers of love, and the discovery that the most wondrous gifts are often hidden in the unexpected, waiting to be discovered with an open heart. And as the Kingdom of Hyperborea slumbered under a silvered sky, Godriel knew that this Christmas, she had been gifted a moonbeam of her own, one that she could share with the world, one twinkling moment at a time.
© Keren Obara Dec 2023.
