Hello, again, and I'm glad you're here! 😄
It is always a joy to share this story with you.
Previously in this episode:
Part One: Entrapta, Wink, and Darla make a daring and difficult escape from a hostile space tree!
Part Two: Scorpia helps Perfuma to see her true magic, and the heroes of the Rebellion are remembered and honored.
And, as the Queen of Bright Moon seeks wisdom and answers, I am dedicating this special chapter to our very wise wiki-leader, Wellington ( @WellingtonSmith ). 😊
It's time for a very special reunion and the hope that it brings.
Welcome back to Mystacor!
Glimmer’s footsteps echo solemnly along a quiet hallway in Mystacor, on her way to the Hall of Assembly. Sunlight streaks at an angle diagonally across the corridor, lending a rusty golden hue to the ornamented walls of purplish stone.
She is dressed again in her royal garb, and the diadem at her forehead sparkles intermittently as she passes from light to shadow to light.
A figure appears at the end of the hallway: Micah, dressed in his sorcerers robe of deep purple. His face brightens!
Micah: Glimmer!
Glimmer: [beaming] Dad!
They rush forward to meet one other, and Micah literally scoops Glimmer up in his arms, holding her close and swinging her around.
Glimmer: [giggling with joy] A-ha-ha-ha!
Micah squeezes her tightly, his cheek to hers.
Micah: Oh, my baby girl!
Suddenly, he stops.
Micah: [seriously] Oh. I’m . . . sorry.
He gently sets her down on her feet.
Micah: [guiltily] That’s . . . no way to treat a queen.
Glimmer: [chiding] Da-aaad!
She encircles her arms around him, pulling him toward her and pressing the side of her face against his body.
Glimmer: [tenderly] I’m your daughter. You don’t have to treat me like a queen. Not now, anyway.
Micah smiles and puts his arms around her shoulders.
Micah: [smiling] Oh. Well, . . . I just . . . can’t get over the fact that I’m with you again and that . . .
Glimmer leans back to look up at him with a loving smile.
Micah: You’re so grown up now.
For a moment, they just look at each other, their smiles magnifying each other’s in synergy.
Micah: Every time I look at you, I’m humbled by what you’ve become. And I feel . . . so thankful to be able to see you like you are now: strong, confident, brave, . . . [wistfully] so much . . . like your mother, but . . . just, who you are. You’re everything I wished for you. And a lot more.
Glimmer’s eyes sparkle.
Glimmer: I can hardly believe it, either, Dad! You’re real!. You’re here. It’s like a miracle.
In the next quiet pause, Micah’s gaze drifts down to a reflection on Glimmer’s leg, and he notices the intricate brace supporting from her ankle to her thigh.
Micah’s eyebrows raise in concern.
Micah: What happened to your leg? Is it okay?
Glimmer steps back and flexes her right knee, bending the joint of the brace.
Glimmer: I hurt it when my magic failed, but it’s okay right now.
Micah nods.
Micah: Yes. I heard about how the princesses lost their magic, all at once. That’s why you’re here, then?
Glimmer: Yes. I thought, maybe, since you had been working on Mystacor’s magic, you might have discovered something to help the princesses.
Micah frowns, noncommittally.
Micah: Hmmm. Maybe.
He turns, and gestures for her to follow him.
Micah: Come with me, and I’ll show you what we found.
They turn a corner and together make their way down another passage, walking side by side. Micah explains as they continue.
Micah: It’s very strange. For nearly a thousand years, the sorcerers in Mystacor have been developing their understanding of magic. How it works. How to access it. To control it. We thought we understood it fully, or nearly so. Passing the wisdom down from one generation to the next. And yet . . .
He shakes his head and glances at Glimmer.
Micah: Somehow, we were wrong. And magic doesn’t seem to work like we always thought it did. It no longer works in the way it did just a few days ago. Spells that have been proven and true for centuries are lost to us now. [he sighs] It’s no longer a force that we can focus at will.
They are approaching a bright triangular archway ahead, beyond which is a warm, glowing flickering light.
Glimmer frowns at her father.
Glimmer: [troubled] Even the sorcerers have lost their magic?!
Micah shakes his head and smiles a little.
Micah: No, Glimmer. It’s not like that. The magic is still there, and it’s strong -- stronger than ever, in fact! There is good reason to be hopeful. But . . .
Micah stops before the doorway, his brow furrowed in consideration.
Glimmer is on the tips of her toes with suspense.
Glimmer: [urgently] What? But what?!
Micah comes out of his reveries and looks down at her, smiling.
Micah: We’re just learning. We’re discovering the magic all over again. The magic is like . . . a wild animal that’s suddenly been set free. It’s chaotic, powerful, like a tidal wave! And it isn’t something we can restrain, or control, or tame like we used to.
He puts an encouraging hand on Glimmer’s shoulder.
Micah: In many ways . . . it’s more wonderful than we ever knew! But we’re just getting to know this new kind of magic. And this time, it must be on its own terms.
He turns his head, and gestures inside the chamber.
Glimmer turns to see.
The room is alive with colorful waves of light, flowing from the edges of the chamber upward to meet in the center of the room and twist together in an energetic dance that streams up high, toward the vaulted ceiling.
Micah: Come inside, and make acquaintance with it. See for yourself what it is we’ve been doing here.
The beautiful chaos of flashing lights plays over Glimmer’s face.
She looks uncertainly toward Micah.
He smiles and nods to her reassuringly.
Micah: Go ahead, Glimmer. It won’t hurt you at all. And it’s the best answer I can give you, for what you came to find out.
Glimmer touches his hand on her shoulder. Then, she smiles and reaches her other arm out to hug him briefly.
She lets go of Micah and turns to enter the chamber.
As she steps inside, the crackling energy vibrates over her skin. Reverberates in waves through her body. Scanning the room, she sees now that it is filled by a few dozen sorcerers, standing in a wide circle along the periphery of the chamber, surrounding the large central open space. Behind them there are three tiers of rising curved benches encircling the arena-like space. Younger sorcerers, apprentices, and students sit in sparse scatterings along the benches, observing the work of their elders.
The elder sorcerers themselves are deep in their focused labor, with hands raised upward toward the center of the ceiling above. Each one channels a vibrant wave of undulating light, seemingly emerging from the ground to pass through them and follow a pathway that beams them through the atmosphere of the chamber until they meet and twist together, forming something new. The colors are awesome and ever-changing, flooding the chamber with a living rainbow!
All at once, laughter emerges from Glimmer, bubbling out as she delights in the display before her. Even as her laughter subsides, her face glows with joy.
Slowly, she walks toward the center of the room, turning around in the powerful energy buzzing around her.
As she reaches the very center of the room, shifting her gaze from one sorcerer to another, to another, the world around her seems to slow down a bit.
Her eyes widen in wonder. She takes a deep breath. Her eyes close.
And suddenly, an updraft of energy flutters through her clothes and her hair, and she is lifted slowly upward, spinning majestically, utterly relaxed in effortless motion.
As she rises past the height of the sorcerers around the room, she spreads her arms out in complete freedom.
And suddenly, she is at a still point in the storm of magical waves around her.
All falls quiet.
She opens her eyes with a clear, relaxed gaze: one that seems to transcend space and time. And her eyes widen as she hears a voice, calling, as if from a million worlds away, yet right beside her.
Voice of Angella: [with infinite compassion] Glimmer . . .
Glimmer: [instantly] Mom!
Voice of Angella: [reassuring] . . . I am here, Glimmer . . .
Glimmer moves her head slowly, searching for the voice, her expression filled with longing.
And a face and a form appear beside her, hovering in the timeless quiet of the moment. Long, flowing, salmon-colored hair, gently framing a face of enduring kindness with eyes of love.
She is glowing, like an ephemeral vision, or a dream.
Her slender arms reach out, and she brushes her fingers affectionately against her daughter’s cheek, lighter than the wings of butterflies.
Angella: [intimate and close] I am still here.
Glimmer closes her eyes and smiles at Angella’s touch.
Angella: [almost a whisper] And I love you.
Glimmer frowns, even as she is smiling, and tears edge out from the corners of her closed eyes.
A tiny frown mars Angella’s face, too.
Angella: I always will.
Glimmer: [in a tiny whimper] Mom.
Angella reaches out both her hands to cradle Glimmers face with the tips of her fingers. Glimmer opens her eyes, and their gazes meet.
Angella’s gaze is steady and confident, her voice strong and loving.
Angella: [softly] Always, . . . my sweet Glimmer.
For a brief second, Angella touches Glimmer’s hair and smiles.
Then, she slowly withdraws her hand and drifts away, her image fading into transparency, becoming one with the brilliant light.
Glimmer remains silent and calm, as if she understands completely.
Her eyes close, releasing tears that roll down her cheeks.
She takes another long, deep breath, and lets it out, spreading her arms and . . .
Spreading her wings. They unfold regally from her back, stretching out to nearly touch the walls on either side of the room, and she turns once again within the space of the chamber, slowly descending.
As she nears the floor of the room, the sorcerers lower their arms. The light of magic fades slowly, and Glimmer’s boots touch lightly to the ground. She lowers her arms. Her wings draw inward, glow brilliantly, and vanish.
And all becomes quiet.
Glimmer opens her eyes, looking up to her father, who rushes toward her, catching her in his embrace.
And as father and daughter hold one another, the sorcerers’ circle draws near in warmhearted reverence.
