Page 207 of Magical Mission
Because something about her face, those familiar eyes shaped by years of observing more than she let on, told me this wasn’t a test. It wasn’t bait.
She truly wanted to know.
And just like that, my thoughts went back to my dad. My beautiful, patient father with weathered hands and eyes that held all the stars. He used to tell me stories at bedtime, not fairytales, but real stories, ancient ones, handed down like family heirlooms. He never saidmagic is realoryou are magical, not outright. He never had to.
Because when I asked him the very same question once, with all the blunt curiosity of a little girl trying to understand her strange dreams and the way the world tilted sometimes when she was nearby, he smiled softly and said, “I believe that we all have the power tobethe magic.”
And so I turned to my daughter now, heart pounding in my chest, and gave her the only truth I could.
“I believe that we all have the power to be the magic.”
Celeste blinked, then smiled. It wasn’t a huge smile, just a soft one that curved at the edges like something inside her had settled into place. She hummed a little, barely a note, like music she didn’t even realize she was making, and nodded as we started walking again.
“I love that answer,” she said, voice dreamy.
I felt the knot in my chest loosen just a little. Maybe she didn’t know. Perhaps she did. Or maybe some part of her had always known but hadn’t found the right shape for the knowing. Still, she hadn’t asked for proof or explanations. Not yet. She just wanted to hear that I believed in something beautiful.
We strolled in silence for a bit, letting our feet fall into rhythm on the old cobblestone sidewalk. It was mid-morning, and the shadows were soft, stretching long across the path from the iron lampposts and flower boxes.
Celeste tucked her hands into her pockets and looked up at the sky, then over at me.
“I can’t believe I leave tomorrow,” she said.
Neither could I.
“Me either,” I replied, trying to keep my voice even.
“I’m going with Darren’s family to their lake cabin,” she said. “You know, the one up in that tiny mountain town? I think it’s mostly board games, hammocks, and cold cereal for dinner. But his mom keeps saying it’ll bewholesome.”
I smiled. “Sounds kind of nice.”
“I’m looking forward to the quiet,” she admitted. “But also... not.”
I tilted my head. “Why not?”
She took a breath, looking out toward the hill that led to the old town overlook. “Because this place... I don’t know. It feels like I just got here and like I’ve been here forever. That makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” I said quietly.
Celeste turned her gaze on me. And for the briefest moment, I saw something flicker across her expression—recognition, maybe. Or understanding. But she didn’t press. Didn’t pry.
“I’ll miss it,” she said. “And I’ll miss you.”
The ache behind my ribs returned. “I’ll miss you more than you know.”
She reached over and linked her arm through mine, her head resting briefly against my shoulder as we walked.
“You’re different here,” she said after a moment.
“Different how?”
“Calmer. Stronger, maybe?” She laughed a little. “Kind of like one of those book characters who had no idea they were royalty until they found their real castle.”
“Are you calling me a fantasy trope?”
She shrugged, grinning. “Only if the crown fits.”
We laughed together, and I let the sound carry through me, holding onto it like something I could bottle up for later.
