Emily's Point of View:

I stood in awe, holding the beautiful dress in my hands, envisioning myself twirling around the magical ballroom. The thought of being surrounded by fellow witches and wizards filled me with excitement. But as my mother and I shared this moment, the intrusive ring of the phone shattered the enchantment.

"Ugh... Why do I have to wake up from my dreams?" I mumbled, a tinge of longing evident in my voice. "That's the only time I get to truly be myself and be happy. It's also the only time I get to see my mother again. I wish there was a way for that dream to become a reality."

A mysterious voice broke through the silence, causing me to spin around in surprise. "But what if there was?"

My heart skipped a beat, and I cautiously replied, "Who's there?"

"I am a friend who can grant your wish, so please remain calm," the voice reassured me.

Curiosity mingled with confusion, but I decided to trust this unexpected encounter. "Ah, very well then."

To my surprise, the voice expressed its surprise as well. "Eh, seriously?"

Puzzled, I responded, "What? You said you could grant my wish, so I'm staying calm."

Acknowledging my determination, the voice revealed its true identity. "You're quite a strange one, but anyways, I am the God of Magic, and I have come for your destiny to reveal itself. Inside you lies a dormant and powerful magic that will come out and summon me to grant your strongest wish. In exchange, you will master using this magic and save our world. We don't have much time for me to explain, but rest assured that you will keep most of your memories from this life. You will be reborn as the witch you always wished to be. Your new name will be Emily. There will be slight differences in the worlds, and your birth mother will be a single parent. You will also be free to fall for whoever you wish in your new life. Live a good life, and see you again. Good luck, Emily."

Gratitude overwhelmed me, and I found myself transported to a parallel world, thirty years in the past.

Klare's Point of View:

The cries of a newborn filled the air, harmonizing with the mix of exhaustion and exhilaration coursing through my veins. I held my precious baby girl in my arms, overwhelmed by the love and responsibility that flooded my heart.

"Congratulations, it's a beautiful, healthy baby girl," the doctor announced, bestowing upon me the gift of motherhood.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at the tiny being in my arms. "Thank you, thank you. Hello there," I whispered, my voice full of tenderness.

The nurse, ever attentive, inquired about a name. "Have you thought of a name for her, Ms. Klare?"

I smiled through my tears, a bittersweet sentiment embracing my heart. "I have. This sweet girl's name will be Emily. She's named after my late husband, Emilio."

Accepting the weight of my decision, the nurse acknowledged, "Very well, that's a wonderful name."

The doctor suggested conducting a magic aptitude test, and I agreed, eager to bond with my daughter uninterrupted.

As the doctor pricked Emily's finger to draw a small amount of blood, an unforeseen occurrence unfolded before our eyes.

"Oh my..." the doctor trailed off, concern etched on his face.

Panic gripped my heart, and I clutched Emily closer, fearing the worst. "What's wrong, Doctor?" I implored, desperation lacing my voice.

The nurse's worry mirrored my own, her eyes searching for answers. "Is something wrong? Is something wrong with my baby!" I pleaded, my voice trembling with fear.