The plan was to throw the infant into the riverbank and watch it drown, but she could not bring herself to carry out such a devious act of an innocent life that was her flesh and blood.
The newborn lay in her mother's arms, cooing softly with her mystical and powerful blue eyes. Her small, delicate features were highlighted by her pointy elf ears and tiny wings that sprouted from her back. Her head was adorned with a beautiful mane of white hair, and her tiny hands reached out to grasp her mother's finger. The scene was one of pure innocence and wonder, as the woman gazed down at her precious newborn with love in her heart.
"Hello there, little one! I am Yvana, your mother and I love you the most. I shall keep you away from the cruel reality of humans and fill your life with warmth and happiness. I promise I will protect you and give you a better life than was given to me. My sweet and precious daughter— Tuille."
In the ethereal embrace of a newborn's sigh, the mother cradles her close, the gentle rhythm of breaths intertwining like a celestial lullaby. Enthralled by the innocence before her, the mother's heart swells with a love that transcends time, her gaze fixed upon the serenity adorning her child's visage. In this hushed interlude, the outside world dissipates, leaving only the profound connection between mother and babe.
As the fragrant tendrils of a floral enchantment weave through the air, the once-slumbering blooms awaken, imbued with newfound vitality. Hues bloom with unparalleled radiance, perfuming the chamber with nature's sweet symphony. Witnessing this mystical metamorphosis, the mother is enraptured by the wondrous dance of life, knowing her baby heralds a season of rebirth and growth.
In the cradle of tranquility, the newborn slumbers on, a beacon of peace amidst the cosmic expanse. The mother, enraptured by the stillness of the moment, finds solace in the symphony of existence surrounding them, a tapestry of beauty and marvel unfurling with each tender breath.
In the delicate bloom of early childhood, Yvana beheld her daughter showcasing extraordinary talents that stirred awe within her. She beheld her child's unique ability to converse with the flora, a gift beyond compare. To her astonishment, Yvana witnessed her daughter's wings unfurling, granting her the enchanting power to soar through the very air. Such a spectacle left Yvana breathless, her heart overflowing with pride and delight at her daughter's wondrous gifts.
ana, a soul weathered by the storms of torment inflicted by the mortal inhabitants of her land, bore witness to the shadows that cloaked humanity's darkest hues. With a mother's fierce love burning bright within her, she vowed to shield her daughter, Tuile, from the same harrowing trials. Thus, Yvana, a guardian of boundless devotion, forged intricate strands of escape, weaving a tapestry of hope to guide them to a new dawn.
The design unfurled before her was no mere trifle. It demanded she amass a treasure trove through toil and sweat, a task she embraced by toiling ceaselessly in the shadows. Juggling sundry tasks and laboring under the cloak of secrecy, she wove their destiny in silence.
As the ages wove their tapestries, Yvanna felt the weight of realization settles upon her soul. This land, she knew, was not the haven she sought to nurture her daughter. Her child's inquisitive spirit yearned for the mysteries beyond their confines, beckoning her to explore the realms unseen. The time had come for them to break free from these chains of isolation, to depart this country and embrace the boundless expanse of freedom...In due time!
The rain poured down on the sheets, creating a curtain of water that obscured everything beyond a few feet. The droplets were so thick that they seemed to merge, creating a never-ending stream of water that drummed heavily against the leaves of the trees. The sound was almost deafening, drowning out all of the other noises and making it impossible to hear anything else.
The force of the rain hitting the ground was so strong that it created small craters in the soil as if trying to dig its way underground. In the midst of this storm, an old, abandoned house stood stoically, battered, and worn by years of exposure to the elements. The rain cascaded down its roof, forming small waterfalls that poured into the gutters below. Despite the relentless downpour, tiny droplets of water managed to find their way through the cracks and crevices of the house, forming a gentle pattering sound that was barely audible over the sound of the storm.
The sight of the house in such a state of disrepair was a stark reminder of the power of nature and its ability to wear down even the strongest of structures.
In a corner of the room, a young child, scarcely five years old, stood transfixed, her gaze wide with trepidation as thunder roared, shaking the very foundations. Instinctively, she covered her ears, seeking solace against the tempest by pressing her back close to the wall, as if seeking refuge within its timeworn embrace.
Her delicate form quivered with each subsequent rumble of thunder, her breaths quickening and shallow. Slowly, she shifted her gaze towards the window, mesmerized by the torrential rain cascading in shimmering ribbons outside, punctuated by fleeting flashes of celestial light. The droplets danced upon the glass with a symphony rivaling thunder's roar, a realization dawning upon her like a distant storm - her mother had not yet returned.
In a bid to stave off the encroaching night's chill, the young one hastily gathered a threadbare quilt, its patches a mosaic of memories, wrapping it snugly around her slender frame. Yet, the meager shield offered little respite from the cold tendrils of the tempest, her form quaking as the wind serenaded through the room, causing the curtains to tremble in a haunting dance.
Yvana, a loyal attendant to the opulent household, unfailingly arrives at the palace to cater to Her Majesty, even if it means leaving her child in a desolate refuge. With utmost care, she pours scalding tea into a fragile cup, not a droplet astray. Anxieties about her daughter weigh upon her, yet she carries on, bowing her head as she retreats to her post in the majestic parlor. There she stands, hands folded before her, a statue awaiting the next command.
Her eyes wandered to the window, where ominous shadows gathered in the sky. Abruptly, a thunderous echo reverberated through the dwelling, causing her to startle. In her mind, she envisioned her daughter, nestled in the safety of their humble sanctuary. Concern crept into her heart, pondering the impact of the tempest on their fragile haven. Yet, amidst rising apprehension, she stood unwavering, a stalwart guardian prepared to fulfill her duty.
Fear not my child, Mommy will be home soon to soothe all your worries away.
As the attendants dispersed, Yvana found herself in the grand hall, the echoes of their footfalls fading into the distance. She made her way back to her quarters, the soft glow of the torches lighting her path. However, in the tranquility of the chamber, the King's presence was unmistakable. He summoned her with a deliberate and regal gesture, his voice cutting through the stillness of the room.
"My Lady Yvana, the night whispers tales of solitude. Grace my chamber with your presence."
Enchanted by His Majesty's tireless dedication to his kingdom and people, she found herself inexorably tied by her sense of duty, unable to break free. As a humble servant and captive within the palace walls, her existence felt as fragile as a fleeting ember, and Yvana longed for nothing more than moments of tranquility in her daily life.
As the gathering came to a close, King Julian bid farewell to all of the attendants, except for Yvana. He relished the opportunity to share a moment of solitude with her, but to his surprise, she met his gaze with aversion, her eyes seemingly longing to escape his presence. With a gentle bow of her head, she sought comfort in the elaborate tapestries that adorned the floor. A heavy silence settled over them, broken only by the echoing click of the monarch sealing the chamber's entrance. Yavanna felt a shiver run down her spine as the realization dawned upon her - she was now alone with him.
As he stood there, captivated by the sight of the woman's exquisite hourglass shape, he found himself completely entranced, absorbing every delicate contour with awe. With deliberate grace, he moved closer to her, his fingertips tenderly skimming her velvety skin before carefully unfastening her blouse.
With unwavering loyalty to his sovereign, he drew her near, bestowing upon her a profound kiss upon her lips
In the grandeur of the king's chambers, the night bore witness to his love towards her, wrapped in an embrace that kindled flames of desire. The gentle flicker of candles painted their ardor in a luminous embrace, a tapestry of passion woven in the shadows of the night.
Yvana's night had unfolded like a tapestry of trials, leaving her weary and spent. In the presence of royalty, she had shared moments untold, and as she readied herself to depart, a royal gesture unfolded. From the king's hand emerged a pouch heavy with gleaming gold, a token of appreciation for her labors and a symbol of recompense. Though gratitude filled the air, a shadow of vulnerability crept into her heart as she beheld the weighty offering. A mother's resolve steeled her spirit as she accepted the coins, knowing they held the key to a brighter future for her beloved daughter. In the ebb and flow of her toil, this payment emerged as a beacon of hope, illuminating the path towards a life more abundant.
With this, I can give my daughter the life that she deserves!
After adjusting her attire, she inclined her head in reverence, expressing deep gratitude to His Majesty. Concealing a complex mix of relief and unease, she maintained a facade of poise while departing, hiding her inner turmoil behind a serene smile. Yet, once shrouded from prying eyes, her countenance darkened, and urgency seized her being, propelling her into a swift sprint, her thoughts consumed by the worry for her daughter. Racing through the twisty, maze-like forest, her pulse pounded a frantic rhythm within her chest. The lush, green sentinels blurred past her in a whirling surge as she desperately searched for any signs of danger. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of hastened steps, she found sanctuary in the comforting embrace of her humble home.
As the curtains parted at her touch, her gaze alighted upon her daughter nestled serenely in the corner. A surge of warmth flooded her heart, propelling her towards the precious figure. Tears of joy traced down her cheeks as she knelt by her daughter's side. Suddenly, a faint, gravelly voice beckoned to her. "Welcome home, Mama!"
As she gazed at her weary little one, still ensnared by the gentle clutches of sleep, a warm tenderness enveloped her heart. In that fleeting moment, their eyes locked, and a radiant spark flickered to life within the child, illuminating her delicate features with pure delight. With graceful and light footsteps, the little one hurried towards her, the soft echo of her footsteps filling the chamber, until she joyfully leapt into her mother's waiting embrace. Embraced by a love as nurturing as the moonlight, the child nestled against her mother's heart, a peaceful smile gracing her lips as she found solace and security in the gentle sanctuary of her mother's affection.
As the melodic cadence of her daughter's voice resonated through her being, she felt a newfound sense of determination wash over her. Despite the looming shadows and uncertainties on the horizon, she drew strength from the depths of her soul, ready to stand as a steadfast warrior guarding her precious charge. In the beautiful, intricate symphony of life, she embraced her role with unwavering resolve: to be a beacon of resilience and unwavering love for her beloved child.
You won't have to worry about a thing!
........................................
The scene was set in a cozy corner, where a little girl nestled on the wooden floor as her mother's tender touch untangled her locks before skillfully crafting them into twin braids. With each delicate flick of her wrist, the mother intertwined each strand, creating a harmonious symphony of hair that cascaded down the young girl's back. "Hey, darling. Shall we venture to a place of delectable delights?"
Tuille's eyes sparkled with anticipation, her petite form dancing with joy. As she pirouetted, her dainty wings fluttered gently, lifting her off the ground in a ballet of enchantment. This day held great significance for her, marking her inaugural foray into the bustling human realm.
"I must anoint your wings with this potent elixir to grant them strength."
"Mama, I dislike the sting of that potion—it pains me."
"I assure you, this shall be the final time, alright?"
Guided by her mother's wisdom, Tuile received counsel on evading the prying gaze of mortals. She was cautioned to be vigilant and concealed, as humans harbored fear and ignorance towards beings beyond their understanding. Yvana imparted crucial advice, urging her daughter to shun vivid hues and steer clear of crowded domains. Tuile absorbed these instructions eagerly, eager to leave a favorable impression during her excursion and to safeguard herself amidst unfamiliar territories.