shadows-starlight

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 118: Easter Eggs Galore

-

It was a beautiful spring morning in the forest of Ebonvale, however, it wasn't just any regular morning, it was Easter Morning.

The time of year when spring was really in full bloom (pun intended).

Buds turned into Blossoms.

The air grew warmer.

Trees had gained fresh, green leaves.

Babies had been born.

And blue skies were way ahead.

However, the most exciting thing that comes along with spring is a holiday that everyone throughout Ebonvale always looks forward to and that holiday happens to be Easter.

See, every year on Easter, the villagers of Ebonvale paint and decorate extra hard-boiled eggs in all sorts of fun designs and bright colors, then, they hide the eggs in all sorts of places and the children have to search high and low to find them.

The same can be said in the cavern household of Malakar the sorcerer and his family.

In his cavern home, Malakar, his loyal (yet slightly annoying) henchmen Grimble, Flord, and Tibber, his pet raven, Corvus,  his two-year-old blue-brindle Irish Wolfhound, Roisin, Pippin the mouse, and Tully the cat were extra busy with the Easter preparations because this year, Aurora, the baby girl that Malakar found in the dingy tower and adopted as his own, would be celebrating her first Easter.

“Careful with the eggs, Tibber!” Malakar called, adjusting the soft knitted bonnet atop Aurora’s tiny auburn curls. She sat on the floor on top of her colorful play mat, gurgling happily as she gnawed on the ear of her stuffed rabbit.

“I am being careful, boss!” Tibber huffed as he teetered on a stool, arranging some beautifully colored eggs on the top of the grandfather clock.

“Doesn’t look careful,” muttered Grimble, putting some eggs inside the silverware drawer. “One bonked me on the head by a certain someone trying to be a little mister independent here!"

Pippin, who rolled some eggs on the top cabinet where the plates and bowls were, smiled sheepishly.

“Flord,” Malakar said, ignoring the bickering, “have you finished hiding the eggs in the back garden?”

“Yessire boss,” said Flord, coming back inside from the back garden. “One tried to roll away, but Roisin helped me herd it back.”

As if on cue, a massive shape lumbered in, tail wagging. Roisin let out a soft boof and padded over to Aurora, licking her cheek. Aurora squealed in delight, grabbing fistfuls of Roisin’s fur.

“Easy, Roisin,” chuckled Malakar. “She’s not a chew toy."

Corvus cawed and gently placed a colorful egg in the corner behind the fireplace.

And Tully? Well, Tully didn't feel like helping much and sunbathed on the windowsill.

Malakar turned back to Aurora, who was now trying to chew one of the corners of the play mat. Gently, he scooped her up into his arms and kissed her forehead.

“My little star,” he murmured. “Today is your first Easter. A holiday of joy, rebirth, and, most importantly… Easter Eggs.”

Aurora babbled happily in her father's arms.

“Everyone!” Malakar announced, holding her high like a triumphant trophy. “Spread about the lair! It’s time for the Easter Egg Hunt!”

The henchmen hooped and hollered as they started to search for the eggs.

Rosin and Tully started their search in the back garden and Pippin and Corvus started their search in the laboratory.

Malakar and Aurora, on the other hand, began their search in the living room.

 The sorcerer let the baby crawl around and explore, trying to find the colorful eggs—though it was less “finding” and more “place one egg near Aurora and cheer as she crawled to touch it.” The whole family cheered every time she gurgled in delight at the colorful eggs.

Nevertheless, the family had an amazing time hunting for eggs, swapping sweets, and attempting to find evidence of the Easter Bunny.

That evening, Malakar prepared a magnificent Easter feast. The smell of honey-baked ham drifted into the room and the family chowed down on the ham, freshly picked asparagus, freshly baked bread rolls with honey butter, and delicious carrot cake for dessert.

Everything was so delicious, that most of them had seconds.

After dinner, the henchmen and pets gathered around in the living room as Malakar took out a book of Bible stories and began to tell the tale of how Easter came to be (Aurora is on his lap).

Everyone listened intently as Malakar read aloud the story of how Jesus was crucified, placed in a stone tomb, and resurrected three days later.

By the time the story was over, everyone was tired from the events of the day and retired to their beds.

He held the sleepy Aurora close, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek. “Happy Easter, my little light. You’ve brought the magic of spring to Ebonvale and all of us.”

Corvus let out a sleepy caw from his perch.

Grimble yawned, sweeties stuck to his face. “Are we doing this again next year, boss?”

Malakar smiled, rare and genuine. “Every year, Grimble. Every single year.”

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 117: A Musical Adventure

-

The grand hall of Ebonvale Performance Hall glowed under soft lantern light as Malakar settled into his velvet seat, cradling little Aurora in his arms.

The orchestra pit ahead brimmed with musicians tuning their instruments—harps, clarinets, oboes, and drums—all ready to bring the classic story of Peter And The Wolf to life. Along the sides of the stage, beautifully handcrafted puppets of Peter, the Duck, the Cat, the Wolf, and Peter's Grandfather waited in repose, their painted wooden faces frozen in anticipation.

“Are you ready, my little songbird?” Malakar murmured, brushing a curl of auburn hair from her forehead.

Aurora cooed in delight in response.

He glanced around, remembering the first time he’d sat here, a child clutching his great-grandmother’s hand. He’d been a bit older than Aurora back then, entranced by the glimmer of the puppets dancing across the stage as the orchestra told its tale.

These days, Malakar had been consistently reading the story of Peter And The Wolf to Aurora almost every day before bedtime or just for a quiet moment.

The lights dimmed, the orchestra ceased tuning their instruments, a hush settled, and the conductor raised his baton.

Aurora's tiny fingers curled around his cloak as the opening notes of the flute—a bright, birdlike trill—danced through the air.

“Do you hear that, little one?” Malakar murmured, his voice soft enough only for Aurora. He brushed a curl of auburn hair from her forehead. “That’s the bird. See how she flits across the sky?”

Aurora pressed her cheek against his chest, her dark olive-green eyes wide. A delighted coo escaped her as if she recognized the playful melody.

Next, an oboe began to play introducing the duck’s smooth waddle, Malakar’s thoughts drifted back to his childhood. He recalled sitting beside Isolde under the crystal chandelier of the performance hall, her hand guiding his small one toward the music. He’d been slightly older than Aurora—discovering the wonders of classical music.

“Great-Grandmother,” he whispered in memory, “how do you know what each note means?” And Isolde smiled, tapping his shoulder gently: “Each instrument speaks a language of its own. You’ll learn to listen.”

A sudden swell of strings ushered in the wolf’s prowling theme. Aurora’s brow furrowed in concentration. Malakar leaned forward, pointing toward the stage, where a gray puppet wolf, controlled by the puppeteer, crept into view.

Aurora let out a little gasp and hid herself in Malakar's chest. Malakar rubbed her back and whispered, "It's alright darling, it's only a puppet."

The baby turned her face back to the stage and relaxed a little. She had to admit, the wolf did seem a bit charming in a way.

She turned back to the stage as the melody stamped and prowled. When the Bird puppet boldly flitted around the Wolf’s snout, Aurora let out a delighted squeal. Malakar chuckled

As the orchestra wove the strands of tension and release, the Cat’s sly pizzicato claws tip-tapped along the woods. Aurora’s head bobbed with the plucked strings. Malakar hummed softly, matching each pluck of the strings.

At the crescendo, when Peter traps the Wolf with the help of his forest friends and is declared a hero by the people in his village, the audience erupts in applause. Aurora’s own clapping hands patted Malakar’s palm, a tiny echo of the grandeur.

When the puppeteers, orchestra, actors, and conductor took their bows and the curtain fell, Malakar rose carefully, Aurora nestled against his chest. Turning to his daughter, he smiled, “I hope you loved it, Aurora. One day, I’ll bring you again.”

Outside, the warm night air brushed against their faces. Malakar adjusted his cloak around Aurora, her sleepy eyes fluttering. “Do you think your Great-Great-Grandmother would be proud?” he mused aloud, imagining her gentle smile.

Aurora yawned, stretching her little arms. Malakar leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “She most definitely would be,” he promised. “She’d say music lives inside you already.” And with that, father and daughter walked home to the forest beneath the silent stars, their hearts still dancing to the echo of flute and strings.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 116: Valentine For You And For Me

-

Love was in the air all around Ebonvale… mainly because today was Valentine’s Day.

Everywhere you turn, you can see people delivering heart-shaped everything to friends, family, and partners: balloons, pastries, bouquets, cards, candy, and more.

The same can be said in the cavern lair home of Malakar and his adopted daughter, Aurora.

Since today was little Aurora’s very first Valentine’s Day, the sorcerer wanted to mark this occasion by dabbling in a long-time tradition of making handmade Valentine’s Day cards, something he helped his siblings do when he was younger.

The dining room table was littered with parchments, lace, paste, art supplies, calligraphy pens, bottles of ink, paste, bottles of colorful sparkles, ribbons, scissors, and fool jewels, and Malakar, along with Aurora, Grimble, Flord, Tibber, Pippin, Corvus, Roisin, and Tully all gathered around to snip, color, cut, and paste their valentines to send to friends and family.

“Tibber, don’t eat the sparkles,” Malakar said sternly, his piercing gaze landing on his smallest henchman, who was currently attempting to taste-test a bottle of golden sparkle dust.

Tibber froze mid-scoop.

“It looked like sugar, boss,” he said sheepishly, putting the bottle of sparkles back on the table. His fingers were already sticky with glue.

Aurora sat contently in her high chair scribbling away on a heart-shaped piece of scroll parchment with a pink crayon in her hand. She let out a delighted coo as she scribbled away. Her auburn curls framed her round face, and her dark olive-green eyes sparkled with mischief. Corvus, Malakar’s ever-watchful raven, perched on the back of her chair, tilting his head curiously at her antics.

On the other side of the table, Flord meticulously cut out paper hearts with scissors. “You know,” he said, his voice deep and measured, “if Grimble keeps eating the supplies, we’ll run out of decorations before we finish with the cards.”

Grimble snorted from where he sat, surrounded by a mess of cut paper, glue, and ribbon. “It’s not like you’re making much progress yourself, Flord. You've been cutting that same heart for ten minutes.”

“I value precision!” Flord shot back, carefully smoothing the edges of his heart. “Art requires patience.”

Malakar sighed, leaning back in his chair. “How is it that I, master of the dark arts, am surrounded by chaos every time we attempt something simple?”

From her spot on the floor, Roisin let out a soft woof, her massive head resting on her paws as she watched the activity with mild interest. Beside her, Tully, lounged on a pile of discarded paper scraps, flicking her tail with regal disdain, but, occasionally offering her assistance in signing the Valentine’s Day. Pippin the mouse, the smallest but arguably the most clever of the group, darted between them, carrying a tiny piece of lace ribbon in his teeth.

“Hey, boss,” Grimble said, holding up a card that looked more like a disaster than a decoration. “How’s this? It’s got, uh, character.”

Malakar squinted at the card. It was covered in uneven glitter smears, crooked hearts, and what appeared to be a misspelled attempt at writing “Aurora”.

He glanced at his daughter, who was now chewing on her pink crayon. “Aurora, what do you think?”

The baby responded with a delighted giggle, smacking her hands against the table.

“That’s a yes, I suppose,” Malakar said with a faint smile.

Just then, Corvus let out a sharp caw, hopping onto the table and nudging a blank piece of parchment toward Malakar.

“Yes, of course, I’m going to one as well, Corvus, “ said Malakar, “I wouldn’t miss this tradition for the world.”

He waved his hand, and the enchanted orbs shifted, focusing light on his work area on the dining table.

With a flick of his fingers, the paste bottle floated into the air, delicately applying an even layer to the card.

Using another small spell, he cut out perfect paper shapes and arranged them into a design that resembled Aurora holding hands with Roisin and Tully, with Corvus and Pippin flying above them, and of course, it had Grimble, Flord, and Tibber in a dog pile off to the side after fighting over who won the Cricket match or not.

It wasn’t grand magic, but it was heartfelt.

As the group worked, the cavern filled with an odd harmony: Grimble’s off-key humming, Flord’s quiet muttering about symmetry, Tibber’s occasional grunts of frustration, and Aurora’s happy babbles and giggles. Even the animals seemed content, Pippin squeaking happily as he worked with Corvus helping him, Tully purring softly while Roisin rested her head on Tibber’s lap.

By the end of the evening, the table was covered in homemade Valentine’s Day cards. Some were beautiful, others chaotic, and a few defied explanation. But each one had been made with love- or at least something close to it.

Malakar looked around at his motley crew and let out a rare chuckle. “It’s a mess,” he said, “but it's our mess.”

Aurora let out a loud squeal of approval, waving her crumpled masterpiece in the air. Corvus cawed in agreement, and even Tully gave a slow blink of approval.

After the cards were made and some were sent off to family members and close friends, the family gathered around to exchange the cards they made for each other and have a slice of the heart-shaped cake Malakar had baked and decorated with a glass of sparkling apple cider.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone,” Malakar said, raising a glass of sparkling cider.

Grimble raised his glitter-covered hands in a cheer. “To Aurora and the boss!”

“To chaos,” Tibber added, grinning.

“And to precision,” Flord muttered, still obsessing over the edges of his heart.

They all laughed, the sound echoing through the cavern. Deep in the heart of Ebonvale, Malakar’s lair felt a little warmer that night.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 115: Aurora's First Tooth

-

It was a quiet, still night in the forest of Ebonvale… at least it was supposed to be, but it was impossible to be so with little Aurora's constant wails.

Malakar, Grimble, Flord, and Tibber attempting to comfort Aurora as she cried became a new staple in their routine over the past few days.

What was the source of her crying? Well, they really didn't know.

Tonight, was no different.

Malakar, the sorcerer, sat in his armchair in front of the fireplace cradling the sobbing baby in his arms. The baby’s cries echoed faintly against the stone walls of the cavern lair and fat tears rolled down her portly cheeks.

"Shh, little one," Malakar murmured, his voice soft and soothing. "What is it that troubles you tonight, hm?" His fingers brushed lightly against her forehead, attempting to calm her, but she only cried harder.

The henchmen tried to help as well.

Grimble had offered a bottle of warm milk, Flord had sung lullabies (with his croaky voice), and Tibber had even resorted to juggling, hoping the distraction would calm the child. But nothing seemed to help.

Malakar’s sky-blue eyes narrowed as he gazed down at his daughter, her auburn hair slightly matted from the constant tossing and turning. He could feel the heat of her small body pressed against his chest, her breathing quick and shallow.

Then, something caught his attention. A flash of white appeared inside Aurora’s mouth, hidden beneath her gums.

He froze, suddenly understanding what the problem was.

"Her first tooth," the sorcerer thought. He smiled softly.

"You’re getting your first tooth," he murmured, gently cradling her face in his hand, the tips of his fingers brushing against the tender spot where the tiny tooth would soon emerge. "No wonder you’re upset."

"Aurora's getting her first tooth?" Flord asked.

"Yes," said Malakar, tucking Aurora into her cradle once they reached her nursery room, "the tooth has been causing her the pain this entire time."

Aurora’s cries faltered for just a moment, as if she too understood that her pain had a reason. Malakar’s heart swelled with affection for her. He knew the customs of Ebonvale well, and he was certain that Aurora’s milestone, her first tooth, would not go unnoticed by the magical forces of their land.

You see, in Ebonvale, whenever a child gains or loses his or her first tooth, whether they are touched by magic or not, they get visited by a very special and very magical being, someone that you readers at home know very well (especially the very younger ones).

"You know what that means, don't you?" Malakar asked his henchmen, "She's on her way."

"You mean…" Flord started.

"The Tooth Fairy?" Grimble interrupted.

"Yes, she must be well on her way right about now," Malakar answered, wiping Aurora's tears from her cheeks.

Tibber sighed dreamily, "…The Tooth Fairy."

That's right!

The Tooth Fairy herself comes to the homes of the children throughout Ebonvale when they are about to lose or gain a tooth.

Tibber looked out the window and stared in bliss at the full moon, waiting for The Tooth Fairy to come.

Tibber may or may not have a teeny, tiny crush on The Tooth Fairy… okay, he has a MASSIVE crush on The Tooth Fairy, always had (it's so bad that he has a pillow with her face on it that he secretly sleeps at night with).

The smallest of Malakar's henchmen smiled an awkward, lovey-dovey kind of smile, the kind of how Charlie Brown smiles whenever The Little Red-Haired Girl passes by.

He imagined himself hand-in-hand with The Tooth Fairy, dancing and kissing one another under the star-lit sky.

His fantasy was rudely interrupted by Flord's taunting.

"Tibber and The Tooth Fairy

Sitting in a tree!

K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Shut up, Flord!" Tibber barked, blushing a little bit as he snapped back to reality, "I don't like her that bad!"

"Oh yeah?" Flord teased with a sly grin, "Pillow Kisser!"

"Am not!" Tibber snapped.

"Are too," Flord said. He continued his taunting, making Tibber blush harder.

"First comes love

Then comes marriage

Then comes the baby

In the baby-"

"Enough, both of you!" snapped Malakar, having had enough of his henchmen's arguing.

Flord stopped, cleared his throat, and mumbled, "Sorry, boss."

Suddenly, everyone felt a soft breeze stir, an ethereal presence sweeping through the room. Malakar’s eyes narrowed in recognition.

"She’s here…" Malakar whispered, glancing toward the window. The air shimmered, and suddenly, in a swirl of glittering lights, a delicate figure appeared. She was a gorgeous being dressed in a flowing gown of different shades of light purple. Her gown shimmered with stardust and her long, silky hair flowed in the evening wind, and on top of her head perched a crown made of white and purple Chrysanthemums. Attached to her back were white, glittering wings and her face was gentle and kind.

This, ladies and gentlemen, was The Tooth Fairy herself.

"Good evening, Malakar," the Tooth Fairy greeted, her voice like a melody in the night, "it's been a long time. You've grown since the day I first visited you."

Malakar bowed his head slightly. "It is truly a pleasure to see you again, Madame Tooth Fairy."

She turned to the henchmen with a pearly, white smile, "Grimble, Flord. It's a pleasure to see you all again."

Grimble and Flord took off their hats and bowed in respect to The Tooth Fairy. "W-Welcome M-Madame Tooth Fairy. Your presence honors us."

Tibber on the other hand kept the same lovey-dovey smile he had before.

The Tooth Fairy was gracing his presence.

"H-Hi Lady Tooth Fairy," Tibber said, his voice a little bit slurred.

"Hello Tibber," replied The Tooth Fairy, stroking his cheek with her hand making Tibber blush scarlet.

Flord made a few kissing noises at Tibber to tease him behind their backs and Tibber shoved him away.

Grimble rolled his eyes.

The Tooth Fairy walked towards Aurora's cradle, her glittering wings brushing softly against the air. "I sensed that her first little tooth was coming. It's a special occasion, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." replied Malakar with a light chuckle, "I must admit, I was puzzled by her crying at first. I didn’t know what was happening until now. Thank you for coming all the same."

The Tooth Fairy smiled kindly, kneeling to Aurora's level. With a gentle touch, she cupped the baby’s face in her hands, whispering words in a language that Malakar had studied in school a long time ago. Aurora’s little whimpers began to ease, her body relaxing under the blankets of her cradle.

"There, there, little one," the Tooth Fairy cooed, her voice like the softest breeze. "You’re really growing up, aren't you?"

Aurora cooed curiously at the being before her.

With a flick of her fingers, she summoned a soft, glowing light that swirled around Aurora’s mouth both inside and outside, easing the discomfort and allowing the tooth to push through without pain.

Aurora blinked, her dark olive green eyes wide with wonder as the soft glow enveloped her. Within moments, the little tooth was fully formed, shining pearly white against her gums.

Malakar and his henchmen watched in awe as the Tooth Fairy worked her magic. When the process was complete, she stood back and smiled warmly. "There we go. No more pain, little one. The other teeth will come in without discomfort as well, I made sure of it."

Aurora’s tiny lips curved into a smile and she began to giggle. Malakar chuckled softly.

"Thank you," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

The Tooth Fairy nodded, reaching into a small pouch tied to her belt. She pulled out a tiny, shimmering trinket—a necklace that shined in silver starlight with a pendant shaped like a tooth. "A gift for her. Something to remind her of this moment, as all first teeth should be."

She placed the necklace gently under Aurora’s pillow, and with a flick of her wings, she rose into the air. “I must go now, Malakar. But remember, I will always know when these milestones come. Farewell for now.”

As she vanished into the night, Tibber mouthed "write to me" to her (which would make sense since there were no telephones in the realm) and made a writing gesture with his hands.

Malakar gazed down at his daughter, now peacefully sleeping in her cradle. The necklace under her pillow glowed softly, a reminder of the special moment they had shared.

“Her first tooth,” Malakar mused quietly. "I suppose you're growing up faster than I realized, little one."

Grimble, who had watched the exchange, grinned. "She’s getting stronger every day, isn't she, boss?"

Malakar stood and gently planted a kiss on Aurora's temple, gazing down at her with a smile. "Indeed. But no matter how quickly she grows, she’ll always be my little girl."

With the glow of the necklace and the quiet hum of the night filling the room, Malakar walked out of the room, content, knowing that Aurora’s journey into the world of milestones had only just begun.

[shadows-starlight]

Here is the official cover art for Shadows and Starlight.

-

Created via Adobe Illustrator.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 114: Reflections of Parenthood

-

Months had passed since Malakar had found baby Aurora at the top of the dingy tower in the middle of the forest and adopted her as his own.

Now, the sorcerer was sitting in the living room in front of the roaring fire in the fireplace of his cavern lair home with Aurora napping peacefully in her Moses basket.

He thought back to that fateful day. Aurora had been nothing but a helpless infant, wrapped in tattered blankets, left alone in a forgotten tower without love, comfort, or a name. Malakar had come upon her by chance—or perhaps by fate. The memories of that day still felt surreal.

“I remember that moment like it was yesterday,” Malakar muttered to himself, watching the rise and fall of Aurora’s chest. “I had no idea what I was doing, no idea what it meant to be a father. But when I saw you there, so small and vulnerable… I couldn’t leave you.”

The memories of their early days together were both chaotic and beautiful. The first night he had brought her back to his lair, the uncertainty in his mind as he gently placed her in the cradle, unsure of how to soothe her or what to do. Aurora had cried endlessly that night, and Malakar had paced the room, holding her in his arms, rocking her back and forth, his frustration growing with each passing moment.

“Those nights… they felt endless,” he mused, his eyes softening as he recalled the exhaustion in his bones. “But you never gave up, did you? You always knew how to find your way to me. Even in the darkest of hours.”

Eventually, he had found his rhythm, learning to read the subtle cues of her cries and gestures. He learned how to feed her, how to comfort her when she was upset, and how to make her smile. The small victories in those early days were priceless.

In the months that followed, they had visited places he revisited throughout his early years—important moments in time and history, hidden spots in the forest, and different shops and stands throughout the village. Aurora’s eyes had lit up with every new sight, every new sound. There had been days when they played in the garden, and nights when Malakar told her stories about the constellations, and days when he taught her about the worlds beyond their own. Even though she couldn’t understand the words, she always listened intently, her eyes wide with wonder.

The day they spent by the pond, watching the water ripple and seeing all of the animals inhabiting it, had been one of his favorites. Aurora had been fascinated by the movement of the water, her small fingers reaching out to touch it, the joy on her face as she giggled and splashed.

His heart swelled as he thought of the laughter they had shared, the moments when they had both reveled in the simple, beautiful things. Aurora had become his world, a source of light in the darkness, a reminder that there was so much to treasure in life.

Lost in thought, Malakar didn’t notice at first when Aurora stirred in her Moses basket. But then he heard the soft sound of her cooing, and he turned to see her eyes flutter open. The moment she saw him, her face broke into a wide, toothless grin. Her dark olive green eyes sparkled with joy, and she reached her little hands out toward him.

Malakar smiled, the warmth in his heart overwhelming. He stood slowly and walked over to the Moses basket, gently lifting her into his arms. “I see you’re awake, my little star,” he said softly, his voice full of affection.

Aurora let out a delighted giggle, her tiny hands wrapping around his finger. She looked up at him with unspoken love, her face radiating joy. It was moments like these, these simple exchanges of warmth and connection, that made everything worthwhile.

“I’m so grateful for you,” Malakar whispered as he kissed the top of her head. “I never imagined that my life would be full of light. You’ve brought so much joy to me, Aurora.”

Her giggles were his answer, her happiness contagious. Malakar held her close, feeling her small heartbeat against his chest, and he knew, without a doubt, that everything he had experienced since finding her—every challenge, every joy, every discovery—had been worth it.

Together, they had created a life, one of love, laughter, and magic. And as Aurora’s tiny fingers clasped around his, Malakar felt a sense of peace he had never known before.

“You and me, little one,” he murmured, looking down at her with a smile. “We’re going to see the world. Together. However, I do want you to remember something.”

Aurora’s eyes locked in with her father's.

Malakar brushed a stray auburn curl and said, “Remember, I'll always be here for you, even if you can't see me, because I love you.”

Aurora snuggled against her father, comforted by his presence. Malakar rocked gently, holding her close, and for the first time in a long while, he felt completely at peace, knowing that no matter what the future held, he would always have her by his side.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 113: Holiday Anticipation

-

After days and weeks of preparation and anticipation, it was finally the happiest night of the year.

It was Christmas Eve.

Tonight, Father Christmas would come and deliver presents to children all over the globe, including the realm of Ebonvale.

Tonight would be the night that the children would leave their treats out for Father Christmas, hang up their stockings, and sleep tight so that way the man with the bag would come and magically deliver the treats they had left on their wish lists.

The same can be said in the cavern lair deep within the forest that belonged to the sorcerer, Malakar, and his unusually built family.

The tree had been trimmed, the stockings were hung above the fireplace with Malakar's going first and Tully's going last, a magnificent feast was prepared for the next day, Christmas crackers were put together and neatly in a basket, and, of course, treats were left near the Christmas tree for Father Christmas to indulge on when he stopped by.

There was a beautifully baked mince pie in the center of the plate surrounded by a few decorated finger biscuits, and next to the plate, a tall glass of ice-cold milk stood high beside the plate.

The room was dark, safe for the glowing candles coming from the Christmas tree and a majority of Malakar's family members had already gone to bed.

Grimble, Flord, and Tibber had retired to their triple bunk bed early that night, the sounds of their snoring echoed throughout the lair, Tully slept peacefully on the windowsill in the living room, purring while she slept, Pippin was tucked snuggly in his little bed inside his mouse house, and Roisin slept beside the wall upside down much like a possum playing dead, her low, rumbling snores were her sound of life.

The only ones left awake were Malakar himself and his little daughter, Aurora.

Both of them were dressed in their night clothes, however, instead of her regular pajamas, Aurora was wearing a cream and white colored onesie with a gingerbread man embroidered on the upper right side (Malakar embroidered it because he could see that the onesie needed a splash of color to it).

Malakar smiled as he watched Aurora trying so hard not to fall asleep, but, alas, her efforts were about to be met in vain.

"Ah my dear," said Malakar, cradling Aurora close to his chest, "tonight is the night that Father Christmas will come and deliver gifts to our house. But, for him to come, you have to get to sleep first."

Aurora didn't understand a word he said, she was too tired to.

"I can see you're already getting that last bit down," Malakar chuckled.

The sorcerer walked into Aurora's room and tucked her snuggly in her cradle. He played a gentle kiss on her temple before whispering, "Pleasant dreams, my little star. Sleep well and soon, Father Christmas will come."

Aurora was already asleep by the time Malakar gently shut the door behind him.

However, on that night, as the snow gently fell from the sky, Aurora started to have a dream.

No one knew how much time had passed since everyone had gone to bed, but, at some point during the night, Aurora woke up to the sound of rustling and clunky footsteps.

She pulled the blanket closer to her, thinking it was the Boogy Man or something, however, when the stranger who entered Aurora's room let out a gentle laugh, she peaked up from the covers to find out that the person standing above her was none other than Father Christmas himself.

He was a portly man, tall and stout, nearly similar to Grimble. His dimples hid under his snowy white, scraggly beard and he was dressed in emerald green and gold embroidered robes trimmed with fluffy brown fur while red gloves covered his hands. On top of his white hair was a crown made of holly leaves and berries and in one hand, he held a staff made of a large stick while a sack of presents and treats was clutched tightly in the other.

Aurora was amazed at the being before her.

The person before her was none other than Father Christmas! His kind eyes sparkled as he knelt to her level.

"Well, hello there, Aurora," he said warmly, his deep voice like a comforting melody. "I've heard all about you. Such a brave little one."

Aurora giggled, reaching out toward the tassels of gold belt that wrapped around his waist.

Father Christmas chuckled and reached into his sack.

"I have something very special for you," he said, pulling out a beautiful caramel-colored teddy bear with kind brown eyes and a dapper orange bow tie around its neck. "This little friend will always be by your side."

Aurora took the bear in her tiny hands, hugging it close. The dream faded as she nuzzled into its soft fur.

By the time Aurora opened her eyes again, the sun had already begun to seep through the window.

It was morning.

Christmas morning to be precise.

Malakar was the first to wake. As he approached Aurora's cradle, he noticed the teddy bear Aurora was cuddling.

"Well, look at that," he murmured with a smile, lifting Aurora as she began to stir. "Father Christmas did visit after all."

Aurora's dark olive eyes lit up as she saw both her father and the bear. She grabbed it with both hands, pulling it close to her chest as she let out a delighted giggle.

"Come, little one," Malakar said, picking Aurora up from her cradle. "Let's see what else is under the tree."

He carried her into the main room, where the rest of the household had gathered. Grimble and Flord were already sorting through their stockings while Tibber unwrapped a small bundle of enchanted tools, and Corvus fluttered down to investigate a shiny new perch.

Pippin squeaked excitedly as he discovered a tiny exercise wheel made just for him, while Roisin sniffed out a bone wrapped in festive ribbon. Even Tully had found a cozy new blanket inside her stocking.

As Aurora watched the lively scene, clutching her new teddy bear, Malakar placed her near the tree to help "unwrap" a few more gifts that were left for her. Her tiny hands grabbed at colorful ribbons, her laughter blending with the joyful chatter of her family members.

After the presents were unwrapped and the stockings were sorted, the family gathered around the table for a delicious breakfast before going back to trying out the offerings Father Christmas had left for them.

Malakar was already concocting a new potion with his new set of beakers and test tubes, Grimble danced around for hours with his new boots, Flord looked snazzy with his new Cricket-playing guards, Tibber added new buttons to his button collection, and Corvus snacked on his satchel of black currents.

Pippin ran on his new exercise wheel, Roisin happily chewed on her bone near the fireplace, Tully lay on her new blanket while playing with some balls of yarn, and Aurora's eyes lit up at every page Malakar read out of her new set of pop-up books.

Hours passed and soon, the family was sitting down to Christmas dinner.

There was a nice roast goose at the center of the table, surrounded by roasted potatoes, honey-roasted carrots, brussel sprouts, chestnut stuffing, cranberry sauce, Yorkshire pudding, puréed parsnips, fresh bread rolls with whipped butter, and for dessert, a stunning Christmas plum pudding topped with brandy cream along with a lovely English trifle made with layers of white cake, vanilla pudding, whipped cream, mixed berries, and topped with freshly picked cherries.

While dinner was being served, everyone pulled open a Christmas cracker (Aurora opened hers with Malakar's help) where everyone got a colored tissue paper crown to wear on their heads, a joke, or a riddle (some of which did not make sense), small toys, or a plastic model, and a special trinket as a keepsake.

Everyone laughed and chatted throughout the delicious meal Malakar had prepared and Malakar sat at the head of the table, enjoying the company of his unusually-built yet wonderful family.

After dinner, the family exchanged the gifts they had each gotten for one another.

Malakar was gifted a new pair of gloves Tibber made from some old leather, Grimble got some long underwear from Flord (seeing how his old pair was starting to get holes in it) while Flord got a croquet set with three balls; one red, one blue, and one yellow, from Corvus.

Tibber got some new ice skates from Grimble and Tully got a new scratching post from Roisin. Rosin's gift to Pippin was a big, juicy bunch of grapes while Pippin's gift to Roisin was a squeaky toy in the shape of a sheep.

And last, but, not least, Aurora's gift from Malakar was a beautifully crafted dollhouse that was just her size. He had spent the last few weeks building, carving, and painting the dollhouse along with its furniture and other special details.

Aurora was amazed at the sight of her dollhouse and hugged her father tight before crawling over to her new dollhouse to play with it.

Malakar watched the scene unfold, his heart full. This was Aurora's first Christmas, but he knew it was only the beginning of many more joyful celebrations to come.

The lair was filled with warmth, laughter, and the magic of a holiday shared with those they loved.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 112: A Night With The Nutcracker

-

A light snowfall covered the streets of St. Petersburg, making the world look like it was covered in powdered sugar under the faint gas lamp light.

 

Malakar held his little daughter, Aurora, close to his chest, bundling her from the frigid winter's air. Both of them were dressed to the nines because tonight, Malakar's time-traveling spell took them both to Russia in 1892 for a very special occasion.

 

Tonight, Malakar was going to take Aurora to her very first performance of The Nutcracker ballet and to revisit Malakar's old friend, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.

 

This was his composition after all.

 

For those who are unfamiliar with the story of The Nutcracker, it is the story of a girl named Clara, who receives a wooden Nutcracker doll on Christmas Eve from her godfather, Drosselmeyer. However, when the clock struck twelve, magical things began to happen. The Nutcracker doll came to life, fought off an army of mice, and whisked Clara off to the enchanted lands in the realm of the Nutcracker doll.

 

It was a play that Malakar saw every holiday season and now he got to share this tradition with his own daughter.

 

Aurora squealed softly, her breath fogging the air as she pointed at the snowflakes drifting down. Malakar smiled warmly.

 

“Yes, little one, it is beautiful,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But wait until you hear the music.”

 

He carried her toward a large, stately building — the Mariinsky Theater, its grand façade illuminated by warm light spilling out into the snow-filled night. The faint sounds of an orchestra warming up carried through the air.

 

Inside, Malakar strode confidently into the main lobby of the theater where people rushed into the theater to get to their seats. A familiar voice called out to him.

 

"Malakar! You've come at last!"

 

Malakar turned with a smile. There stood Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky himself, in a finely tailored suit, his graying beard neatly combed. His eyes lit up as he approached.

 

“Pyotr!” Malakar greeted warmly, clasping the composer’s hand. "It's so good to see you again!"

 

Both men shook hands and Pyotr said, "You as well!"

 

Tchaikovsky’s gaze immediately dropped to the baby in Malakar’s arms, and a delighted smile spread across his face.

 

“And there she is — little Aurora!” Tchaikovsky cooed, holding out his gloved hand as if addressing royalty. Aurora blinked at him curiously before grabbing one of his fingers, earning a chuckle. “It's good to see you again as well, маленький цветок (little blossom)."

 

Aurora let out a sweet little laugh at Pyotr's compliment.

 

Tchaikovsky laughed warmly. “Come on in! I have secured for you the best seats in the house—naturally.” He gestured grandly toward the theater. “Tonight’s performance is special, Malakar. I trust you’ll enjoy it.”

 

The theater hummed with anticipation as the audience settled into their seats. Malakar lowered himself gracefully into his box seat with Aurora nestled securely on his lap.

 

Their view was exquisite—the stage stretched before them, its curtains shimmering like ruby silk.

 

Tchaikovsky stood below near the orchestra pit, casting one last glance toward Malakar before offering him a subtle nod. Malakar returned it, cradling Aurora close.

 

“Listen closely, my little star,” Malakar whispered into her ear as the orchestra began to tune. “Tonight, you shall hear music unlike any other—music that will outlast time itself.”

 

Aurora blinked slowly, her tiny fingers patting Malakar’s hand, as if in understanding.

 

As the overture of The Nutcracker filled the theater, the world seemed to pause. The delicate strains of the music wove their magic through the audience, and the curtain lifted to reveal the beautifully decorated foyer of the Stahlbaum house. The dancers, men, women, and children, moved with an elegance that seemed otherworldly, their movements perfectly in sync with Tchaikovsky’s brilliant score.

 

Aurora’s gaze never left the stage, her dark olive eyes wide as she watched the performance. When the sugar-plum fairies pirouetted across the stage, she let out a soft coo.

 

Malakar couldn’t help but smile as he watched her.

 

The music swelled around them, lifting the audience into a dreamlike state. Tchaikovsky’s genius flowed like magic through the theater, each note like a spell. Malakar closed his eyes briefly, letting the music wash over him.

 

He had watched this ballet over and over again growing up. He knew both the story and the music by heart and even performed a song from the ballet for a concert once. The world around him seemed to vanish with only the music surrounding him and Aurora.

 

After the performance ended and the audience erupted in applause, Malakar and Aurora joined Tchaikovsky backstage. The composer was flushed with excitement, his eyes still alive with the thrill of the evening.

 

“Well?” he asked. “Did I not promise you something magnificent?”

 

Malakar smiled and shook Pyotr's hand again, “You did not disappoint, Pyotr. The Nutcracker is a triumph. Its magic will endure for generations. It's another masterpiece in my book."

 

Tchaikovsky looked humbled, taking his hand and shaking it again. “Your words mean much to me, old friend.”

 

Aurora chose this moment to chime in with a happy babble, reaching for Tchaikovsky once again. He laughed and took her gently in his arms, holding her as if she were the most precious treasure in the world.

 

“She is my most honest critic,” Tchaikovsky teased. “And from her face, I gather she enjoyed it.”

 

Malakar smirked. “She has excellent taste.”

 

Tchaikovsky looked down at Aurora, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Ah, I almost forgot! I have a gift for you so that you can always remember this night."

 

Pyotr hid himself with his cloak just like Drosselmeyer did in the ballet, and revealed himself holding a beautiful periwinkle blue, white, and gold Nutcracker that was dressed like a king with white eyebrows and a mustache and friendly blue eyes.

 

Aurora was amazed at the little Nutcracker doll that Pyotr presented to her. She immediately took it into her hands and hugged it tight.

 

Malakar smiled warmly at Aurora's new friend and said, "Thank you, Pyotr, it’s a wonderful gift. Something that she will truly treasure forever."

 

Later, after bidding each other goodbye and stepping through the portal that took them back to their cozy cavern lair home, Malakar dressed Aurora up for bedtime and placed her in her cradle.

 

Aurora slept soundly, holding the Nutcracker doll in her grasp, having her own little dream adventure in a world of mice soldiers, sugar plum fairies, and dazzling snowflakes dancing across the skies while being whisked away by the Nutcracker prince.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 111: Do You Want To Build a Snowman?

-

"Is it thick enough?" Flord asked, impatiently.

 

Grimble grabbed a small fist full of snow and scrutinized it, feeling the powdery, white substance in his hands.

 

"It sure is!" replied Grimble, "perfect snow to make a snowman!"

 

“Whoo-hoo!” Tibber exclaimed, “It's snowman-making time!”

 

After bundling themselves and little Aurora up, the henchmen, baby in tow, raced out to the back garden to start their wintery project.

 

Malakar was out doing some last-minute Christmas shopping in the village for the afternoon, so the henchmen were in charge of looking after Aurora until he got back.

 

And what’s a better way for them to spend their time?

 

Building snowmen of course!

 

And since Aurora had never built a snowman before, they were going to show her how to do it.

 

“Now Aurora,” said Grimble, setting the baby down on the snowy ground, “Welcome to Snowman Making 101. The trick to making a perfect snowman is to have the perfect snow and the perfect snow is firm and soft, but, not too soft. Otherwise; the snowman would fall apart after the first snowball is made. The first step is to make three snowballs, that's the base of the snowman's body."

 

The three henchmen began to work on their snowman, squabbling as they rolled the snow into giant balls to make the body of the snowman. Tibber struggled with his because he decided to take on the task of building the biggest snowball, the one that goes on the bottom.

 

"Why did you decide to make the bottom snowball?" Grimble asked, grunting while pushing his pile of snow.

 

"Because you did the bottom one last year, so, I figured I'd give it a try!" Tibber answered, panting and gasping.

He huffed and puffed, pushing with all his might. "Aurora’s gonna love this snowman. Biggest one she's ever seen!"

 

Flord snorted. "It’ll roll you flat before she loves it."

 

Sure enough, Tibber tripped on his scarf mid-push, and the enormous snowball began rolling back toward him. "AAAAH! RUNAWAY SNOW!" he cried.

 

He and the other henchmen tried to get out of the way, but, as luck would have it, the snowball crashed right into them, much like a bowling ball would as it hit the pins. They crashed right into a tree.

 

Aurora clapped her tiny hands together and let out a squeal of joy, making all three henchmen freeze. Then, she let out a huge belly laugh as they climbed out of the snow.

 

"I meant to do that," Tibber said, his head popping out of the snow.

 

Once the snowballs were finally stacked (with a lot of grumbling, pyramid-making amongst each other, and teamwork), the three henchmen turned toward the fun part—decorating the snowman.

 

"Now, the next part is to decorate the snowman," said Grimble to Aurora.

 

"You sure we can use these?" asked Flord, opening a box full of old snow clothes fit for a small child.

 

"Of course," said Grimble, "Elara said that the boss outgrew all of these clothes anyway and these are just what we need for our snowman. First things first—the eyes. Tibber, you have your button collection?"

 

"Never leave home without it," replied Tibber, taking out a jar full of multi-colored buttons, "take your pick!"

 

Grimble took out a large pink button and a rather small chartreuse button from the jar. "You see this, Aurora? These go right here." He placed them carefully on the top snowball that was used for the head.

 

Aurora cooed in wonder.

 

"She loves it," Flord declared proudly. "Next, the nose!" He pulled out a nice, firm, orange carrot that had been harvested from Malakar's garden during the autumn. "Normally, we use rocks for the nose, but, since today's a special case, we're going to be using a carrot."

 

"Hey!" exclaimed Tibber, "That’s the carrot I was gonna have for lunch!"

 

"Relax," said Flord, "there are more carrots back in the kitchen." He jabbed the carrot into the top snowball. "There! Now we need a mouth! Fortunately, I brought something that will do the trick!"

 

Flord took out a satchel full of chestnuts that were out of their shells along with the shells themselves. "We can use the nuts for the mouth and the shells for the buttons!"

 

"Good idea!" said Grimble, taking a fist full of chestnuts and forming them into a smile.

 

Next, they added two sticks for its arms. One was larger than the other, but, it was alright nonetheless. Then, they placed three of the chestnut shells in a line on the middle snowball and dressed it with the box of Malakar's old childhood winter clothes.

 

It wore a pair of mint blue mittens, a long, chunky, hand-knitted purple scarf around its neck, and a brown fatigue cap with flaps on its sides on the top of its head.

 

"Ta-da!" said Grimble, revealing the snowman in all its glory. "The perfect snowman for the perfect little girl!"

 

Aurora stared at the snowman in wonder for a few seconds and then, in a burst of energy, she squealed with delight

and waved her little arms, flinging snow everywhere, as if declaring her approval. Tibber beamed. “See? She loves it!”

 

"Of course she does!" Flord added proudly. "It’s got character! Just like us!"

 

Grimble grumbled.

 

"My, my, what a fascinating snowman you've made gentlemen."

 

Everyone turned around to see Malakar. He had finished his shopping trip and had come to the back garden to see their work.

 

"Oh, hiya boss!" said Tibber, "just giving Aurora a little lesson on building the perfect snowman."

 

"I see," said Malakar, "and how do you think she did during today's lesson?"

 

A soft coo interrupted the henchmen's answer and everybody turned to Aurora to see the baby building her own little snowman. It was smaller than the one the henchmen built, a little lop-sided, and only had two pebbles for eyes, but, it was her own.

 

Flord smiled and replied, "She passed… with flying colors."

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 110: The Sorcerer's Yule Ball

-

The heart of the forest of Ebonvale was alive with the spirit of the holiday season as sorcerers from all corners of the world and the Obsidian's Keep gathered around to eat, drink, dance, and make merriment. Snow blanketed the ground in a soft, shimmering white, and enchanted lanterns hovered in the air, casting a golden glow.

 

The Sorcerers Annual Yule Ball was in full swing.

 

Sorcerers came dressed in robes and gowns of deep jewel tones and intricate embroidery mingled beneath the ancient, towering trees, their voices humming with excitement.

 

Two of the participants at the ball were our very own father-daughter duo, Malakar and Aurora.

 

Malakar, dressed in a deep emerald cloak lined with gold, cradled his daughter, Aurora, against his chest as he stepped into the clearing. Aurora's wide olive-green eyes sparkled with wonder, her auburn curls peeking out from under a tiny knitted headband that matched the soft maroon ball gown she wore. She gripped his finger tightly with her tiny hand, babbling softly.

 

The second the other sorcerers saw Malakar with the baby in his arms, they gathered around Malakar and fussed over little Aurora.

 

“Quite the spectacle, isn’t it, my little star?” Malakar murmured, pressing a kiss to Aurora’s forehead. Aurora giggled in response, her chubby hand clutching the edge of his robe. Her wide, dark olive-green eyes sparkled as she looked around, captivated by the ethereal decorations and floating lights.

 

“Malakar!” boomed a voice from across the clearing. Eldrin, the leader of the Obsidian’s Keep, approached with his usual commanding presence, his sharp features softened by a rare smile. “You’ve finally arrived—and with Aurora, no less.”

 

“Eldrin,” Malakar greeted with a respectful nod. “I figured that this year's Yule Ball would be the perfect opportunity to introduce my little one to this time-honored tradition."

 

Aurora let out a delighted coo, her chubby hands reaching for one of the floating lights. Malakar chuckled softly, shifting her higher in his arms.

 

“She’s grown since I last saw her,” said Vespera, who appeared beside Eldrin in a gown of swirling shadow and starlight. Her violet eyes softened as she studied the baby. “And still as enchanting as ever.”

 

"She certainly is," Xanthar quipped, joining the group with a mischievous grin. The tall, wiry sorcerer leaned closer to Aurora, who promptly tugged at his scraggly beard with surprising strength. “Ah! And she’s strong, too.”

 

“Apologies,” Malakar said, though the faint smirk on his face betrayed his lack of remorse. “She’s curious about everything these days.”

 

Sylas, the youngest of the Keep, stepped forward and extended a single finger, creating a small projection of a reindeer prancing around in the air. Aurora’s eyes widened, and she reached out, her little fingers brushing the projection without fear.

 

"She’s fearless,” Sylas observed, his deep voice carrying a note of admiration. “A trait she’ll need.”

 

Malakar nodded solemnly. “She will be strong—stronger than any of us one day. For now, she’s still my little star.” He tickled Aurora’s side, eliciting a bubbly laugh.

 

Suddenly, the music shifted to a lively sort of tune and the sorcerers filled the dance floor. Eldrin raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for a dancer, Malakar, but there’s a first for everything.”

 

Malakar smirked. “I’m here for Aurora’s enjoyment tonight. Perhaps next year when she's walking on her own.”

 

Aurora babbled in response, and Malakar looked down at her. “See? She agrees.”

 

As the night progressed, Aurora became the center of attention. Sorcerers conjured floating snowflakes, partridges in pear trees, and the Star of Bethlehem for her to chase, and one even created an illusion of Father Christmas's enchanted sledge with his eight tiny reindeer flying across the night sky. Aurora’s delighted laughter filled the air, mingling with the hum of magic and conversation.

 

“She’s already beloved by all,” Vespera remarked as she watched Aurora’s interactions. “You’ve done well, Malakar.”

 

“I simply follow her lead,” Malakar replied, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “She’s a light in a world that often feels too dark.”

 

As the evening wound down and the grand Yule tree lit up in an explosion of golden magic, Aurora yawned, her little hand gripping Malakar’s cloak. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

 

“Time to go, little one,” he murmured.

 

The sorcerers around them nodded in understanding, their gazes lingering fondly on the sleepy baby.

 

“Until next year,” Eldrin said, clasping Malakar’s shoulder.

 

“Until then,” Malakar replied, stepping into the shadows with his daughter, disappearing into the night.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 109: Celebrating The Winter Solstice

-

Malakar's cavern lair was filled with the scent of spices, roasted chestnuts, and roasted meat wafted throughout the year.

 

Tonight was the twenty-first of December and everyone knows that December twenty-first (or twenty-second) was the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year and the only day with less sunlight during the day.

 

It was not only the Winter Solstice but also baby Aurora's very first Winter Solstice, and Malakar was determined to make her first Winter Solstice celebration an unforgettable experience.

 

Malakar stood at the center of the living room, his dark robes swirling as he directed his eccentric household to prepare for the celebrations that would take place that night.

 

“Grimble, have you finished with the popcorn strings?” Malakar asked, adjusting the ornate lantern he made earlier in the day, enchanting it to cast a bright, golden hue.

 

Grimble held up a tangled mess of popcorn and fishing lining, "Uh… define 'finished, boss."

 

Flord groaned and said, “How hard is it to string popcorn, Grimble? Even Tibber managed it!” He gestured to Tibber, who was carefully attaching freshly popped popcorn kernels to his string of fishing lining.

 

"The key is to place the kernels one at a time," said Tibber.

 

“I’ve got better things to do than messing around with snack decorations!” Grimble retorted.

 

“Enough squabbling,” Malakar said, his voice calm but firm. He turned to his raven, Corvus, perched on his shoulder. “Corvus, assist them and supervise them if you must.”

 

Corvus let out a sharp caw, clearly displeased at being dragged into another one of the henchmen's squabbles but flapped over to perch on Grimble’s shoulder nonetheless.

 

Nearby, Roisin, the two-year-old Irish Wolfhound, padded around with Pippin the mouse perched confidently on her snout. At the same time, Tully, the peach-colored cat, was curled up on Malakar's armchair, watching the chaos unfolding with a lazy flick of her tail.

 

Her aquamarine eyes occasionally back and forth as the henchmen bumbled and fumbled around.

 

“Aren’t you gonna help, Tully?” Flord asked, glaring at her.

 

Tully blinked and let out a meow in response.

 

"I think that's Tully's way of saying supervising is her contribution," said Grimble, trying to get untangled from the fishing lining.

 

Tully let out a purr, stretching out on the couch luxuriously.

 

Malakar chuckled to himself and turned back to Aurora, who was playing with a spoon while sitting in her highchair. Her auburn hair glinted in the light of the lanterns and her dark olive eyes sparkled with curiosity. Malakar leaned down and gently bopped her nose with his finger, earning a delighted giggle.

 

“All right, everyone,” he announced. “It’s time to decorate the oak tree.”

 

The group bundled up and headed outside, the crisp winter air biting at their faces. The oak tree that Malakar took pride in nurturing stood tall and proud at the far back of his garden, its branches stretching toward the twilight sky. Malakar held Aurora in one arm while directing the others with his free hand.

 

Now, during the Winter Solstice, Malakar had several special traditions that he did with his family as a young boy, and now that he had a family of his own, the sorcerer was ready to pass on those traditions to little Aurora.

 

“Let us hang the lanterns first,” he said.

 

One by one, they hung the glowing lanterns on the tree branches, their warm light illuminating the snow-dusted ground. Grimble, Flord, and Tibber worked together to drape popcorn strings, berries, dried figs, and little chestnut bags over the branches. Roisin stood on her hind legs, helping to nudge decorations onto the lower branches, while Corvus expertly placed items high above.

 

Pippin scurried around the branches of the oak tree, adjusting the decorations so that they were nice and well aligned so they wouldn't fall off the tree.

 

“Look, Aurora,” Malakar said, holding her up so she could see the lanterns and other treats hanging on the tree. “We hang lanterns and little treats for the snow angels so that they will find their way here to feast on the offerings we leave for them.”

 

Aurora clapped her hands and let out a squeal of delight, causing Pippin to squeak in delight. Even Tully, perched on a nearby rock, looked impressed at the beautifully decorated oak tree.

 

They stared at the oak tree for a while before heading back inside for a magnificent Winter Solstice feast. The feast was laid out on the dining room table and plates were piled high with tender pot roast, fresh rolls of bread with honey butter spread on top, glazed carrots, and snowball biscuits dusted with powdered sugar for dessert.

 

The family sat down to eat with Aurora, in her high chair, at the head of the table next to Malakar.

 

“This smells amazing,” Flord said, grabbing a second helping of bread and spreading honey butter on top of it.

 

Grimble nodded, his mouth already full of glazed carrots. “Best meal of the year.”

 

Malakar served Aurora a small piece of the pot roast, which she eagerly gnawed on, her tiny hands gripping Malakar's fork. A little bit of the juice from the pot roast ended up dribbling down her chin.

 

After the meal, everyone gathered by the roaring fire, their bellies full and spirits high. Malakar held Aurora in his lap, her tiny body warm against his chest. The others sat in a semi-circle, sipping mulled wine. Even Tully joined, curling up on Roisin’s side.

 

Aurora, on the other hand, drank some of Malakar's delicious homemade cider in a sippy cup.

 

“To Aurora’s first Winter Solstice,” Malakar said, raising his chalice in the air. “And to the traditions that keep us together.”

 

“To Aurora!” the others echoed, lifting their glasses.

 

Aurora let out a happy babble, raising her little cup in imitation. Everyone laughed, the sound echoing warmly through the cavern.

 

Outside, under the glowing lanterns, deer, rabbits, birds, and other animals gathered at the oak tree, enjoying the feast left for them. The harmony of magic, nature, and family filled the forest, a perfect celebration of the solstice.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 108: The Candlelight Processional

-

Malakar walked swiftly down the snowy forest path with little Aurora nestled warm and snugly in her pram.

 

He didn’t want to be late to arrive at The Enchanted Chapel of Ebonvale Forest.

 

You see, every year, around the holidays, The Enchanted Chapel of Ebonvale Forest hosted a candlelight processional. The candlelight processional is when the choir of the chapel walked along the forest path and heads into the warmth of the chapel. Inside, the choir would sing hymns and Father Bartholomew would tell the story of the first Christmas through immersive storytelling and music. 

 

For Malakar, the candlelight processional was as much a part of his childhood as it was a tradition now shared with his daughter. Every year, since he was a small boy, he had come to this spot in the forest to witness the sacred retelling of the Christmas story. He even participated in the processional choir a few times through the years. And this year, for the first time, he would share it with little Aurora.

 

"Look, little one," Malakar whispered, his voice warm against the chill. "This is where it all began. This is where we remember the joy and the light brought into the world."

 

Aurora, nestled in her pram, gazed up at the snowy forest path, her dark olive eyes wide, catching the soft glow of the candles flickering in the distance.

 

As they reached the chapel's entrance, Malakar paused to take in the sight. The Enchanted Chapel, though modest in size, seemed to glow with an otherworldly light, especially in the snow. Its walls covered in ivy and the glow of hundreds of flickering candles. The warm hum of voices preparing for the service drifted from within, and the air seemed alive with anticipation.

 

"Ready for a little magic, Aurora?" Malakar murmured, his lips curling into a rare, affectionate smile. He gently kissed the top of her head. Aurora’s small fingers twitched, her gaze drifting from the flames to the crowd of people gathering, their faces illuminated by candlelight.

 

Malakar picked her up from the pram and settled into his seat just as the processional was about to begin.

 

The choir’s voices swelled in harmony, and the words rang out into the quiet night: “O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant.” Aurora cooed softly in his arms, as though the music soothed her, the melody lulling her into a peaceful calm.

 

"Yes, it’s beautiful," Malakar murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as he gently rocked his daughter in his arms.

 

He adjusted her in his arms so she could see the large wooden manger that was set up at the front of the chapel stage. It was a symbolic recreation of the nativity, with a small figure of a baby lying in a bed of straw, surrounded by animals and lanterns.

 

After the choir sang, Father Bartholomew stood at the chapel stage and began to tell the story of the first Christmas day, the night when Christ was born.

 

As the procession unfolded, each part of the Christmas story was brought to life through music and speech. The shepherds, the angels, the wise men—each participant walked slowly around the chapel, reenacting the tale of Christ's birth. Aurora watched intently, her wide eyes following the dancers in their flowing robes, the glittering candlelight reflecting in her eyes.

 

The animals, on the other hand, were portrayed by some of the choir members controlling beautifully-crafted marionette puppets.

 

"The stars were shining so bright that night," Malakar whispered to his daughter, his voice filled with reverence. "And now we have the stars in our hearts, every year when we come together like this."

 

As the last notes of the hymn echoed through the trees, the choir’s voices brought the story to its peaceful conclusion: “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright.”

 

Aurora’s gaze softened, and she let out a small sigh, her tiny body resting against her father’s chest.

 

Malakar, holding her close, smiled down at her, his heart filled with warmth as the final note of the carol resonated in the night air.

 

Aurora's small yawn interrupted his thoughts. Her eyes fluttered closed as she nestled against him, comforted by the warmth of her father’s embrace and the familiar sounds of the night.

 

Malakar smiled down at her, feeling the weight of the years—of his family’s traditions, his role as a father, and the enduring power of love—wrapped around him. He took a deep breath, feeling the presence of those long passed, the echoes of his childhood joining with the present.

 

As the last verse of the Christmas story was recited and the final candle was lit, Malakar felt a profound sense of peace.

 

This moment, standing in the chapel with his daughter, was a bridge between past and future. It was a reminder that, though times changed, some things—like the warmth of tradition and the love of family—remained eternal.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 107: Let It Snow (Paper Snowflakes)

-

Malakar’s cavern lair was quiet, save for the occasional sound of the crackling fire in the hearth. The soft glow of the flames illuminated the moss-covered stone walls, giving the place a cozy, intimate feel. This was the kind of day Malakar loved—when the outside world was cold, the inside of his lair was nice and warm.

 

Aurora, seven months old, was seated comfortably in her highchair, her dark olive green eyes sparkled in the firelight as she stared curiously at the scattered cardstock and scissors on the floor. Malakar smiled at the scene before him. He wasn’t alone; his loyal companions and family members had gathered to make snowflakes out of the delicate cardstock.

 

"Grimble, could you pass me the scissors, please?" Flord asked, holding out a hand as he studied his cardstock.

 

Grimble hunched over the table, grunted in acknowledgment, and handed Flord the scissors.

 

"I never thought I’d see the day when the lair would filled with paper snowflakes," Tibber said with a chuckle, carefully cutting his own cardstock.

 

"I'm not sure what’s so funny about it," Malakar replied, his voice low and smooth. "I figured this would be the perfect winter's day craft to do with Aurora."

 

Roisin, the Irish Wolfhound, lay on the rug nearby, her large paws tucked neatly beneath her, watching the activity with a contented sigh. She gave Aurora's foot a gentle nudge with her nose as if trying to show her how to cut the paper (even though she was not old enough to touch scissors yet), though neither could speak.

 

"She’s right, Aurora," Malakar said, smiling down at his daughter. "You’re going to love these snowflakes. They’ll twirl like the wind in the forest, just like the ones outside."

 

Aurora’s tiny hands reached out for the paper on the table, her gaze focused, her little hands grasping for the bright pieces of cardstock. Her auburn hair fell softly around her face as she bounced excitedly in her highchair.

 

Pippin, the small mouse, scurried across the table, eagerly inspecting each creation. His sharp eyes and tiny paws moved with precise determination as he gently nudged the others' snowflakes aside to make room for his own.

 

They were small just like him, but, he was proud of them nonetheless.

 

Tully, a sleek peach-colored cat with aquamarine eyes, gracefully jumped up onto the table. She sniffed at the papers and batted one with her paw, watching it flutter to the ground.

 

“Careful, Tully,” Malakar warned, his voice amused but affectionate. “You're more likely to turn them into crumpled balls than snowflakes.”

 

Tully looked up at him with her typical aloof expression, but then nuzzled her face against his arm, clearly seeking affection.

 

Malakar pet her head with his free hand.

 

Corvus, a large raven perched on a nearby shelf, tilted his head to observe the chaos. He croaked softly, sounding almost like a soft laugh.

 

The cavern was filled with gentle chatter, laughter, and the sound of cardstock being cut as Malakar and his family worked in their little corners.

 

“Flord, let me see yours!” Grimble called out, his voice bubbling with competitive energy.

 

Flord unfolded his paper with a dramatic flourish, revealing a snowflake that had a few jagged edges. He held it up proudly. “A masterpiece!” he declared, though it wasn’t exactly symmetrical.

 

Grimble laughed, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “It looks like a jagged mountain range.”

 

Tibber laughed at Grimble's comment.

 

Flord smiled and clapped Grimble on the back. “I guess there’s something magical about it, after all.”

 

“And at least it’s not a battle,” Tibber added with a sly grin.

 

Roisin let out a soft bark of approval, while Aurora gurgled happily, her fingers still fumbling for the paper. Malakar reached down and carefully caught her hand, guiding it to the snowflakes so she could feel them.

 

“Next year, we’ll have you making your own,” Malakar said gently, his voice filled with a warmth that was rare but always present when he spoke of his family.

 

As they continued to fold, laugh, and share in the joy of their little snowy world, the firelight flickered, and the cavern seemed to hold them in a moment of peace and contentment—a rare gift in the deep, shadowed halls of Malakar's home.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 106: With Every Christmas Card I Write

-

Snow blanketed the forest outside Malakar’s hidden cavern lair, but inside, the warm glow of candlelight reflected off jagged stone walls.

 

A cascade of art supplies—spools of ribbon, tubes of glitter, paints (both the regular and washable kinds), brushes, scissors, colorful paper, crayons, paste, and small jars of sequins—covered every inch of the dining room table. The warm glow from a chandelier overhead bathed the scene in light.

 

Today, Malakar and his unusually-formed family were going to make homemade Christmas cards to send out to Malakar's family and members of the Obsidian's Keep.

 

Ever since he was a boy, Malakar and his siblings would gather around their dining room table and make their own Christmas cards to send to the other members of their extended family.

 

It was something that he loved doing every year and now that Aurora was a part of their family, Malakar wanted to pass this tradition onto her.

 

Aurora sat in a high chair next to Malakar, her chubby little hands smeared with blue washable paint as she babbled happily, slapping the piece of scroll parchment in front of her. Her auburn curls caught the light, and her dark olive-green eyes sparkled with curiosity.

 

“Careful, little one,” Malakar said, his deep, resonant voice tinged with amusement. “This card is meant for your great-great-grandmother. She may not appreciate fingerprints covering the moon I’ve painted.”

 

Aurora squealed and clapped her hands, flicking specks of paint onto Malakar’s cheek. He couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at his lips.

 

Grimble, sitting across from Malakar, carefully worked on a card for Elara and Thorne, Malakar's mother and father, writing a delicate message in flowing script. “She’s got the artistic touch, boss. Guess all of those times you let her paint with you came in handy.”

 

Flord hunched over a pile of glitter and glue, muttering in frustration. “This thing’s a disaster… I can’t stick anything properly!” His hands were sticking to the glitter bottle, leaving a trail of sparkles across the table.

 

“Here, let me help,” Tibber said. The small henchman reached across the table and gently pried the glue bottle out of Flord’s hands, then helped him fasten a small paper-cut ornament to his card for Arianne and Aric, Malakar's older twin siblings.

 

Roisin, the enormous Irish Wolfhound, was working on her own card, splatting a paint-covered pawprint onto a piece of scroll paper, her eyes lit up and she painted happily. Occasionally, her tail would thump against the stone floor, a rhythmic sound amidst the chatter.

 

Pippin, the tiny mouse, darted back and forth between the supplies, carrying fools' jewels and plastic beads in his tiny paws. He was particularly proud of a handful of jewels and beads that he dropped onto a card for Vespera, one of the members of the Obsidian's Keep, arranging them with careful precision on a paste-covered path. His little feet tapped excitedly against the table.

 

Corvus, the raven, perched on a high shelf, used his talons to dunk some glitter onto his piece of scroll parchment. His sharp eyes never missed a detail, even as his beak clicked thoughtfully.

 

Tully, the peach-colored cat sat perched on the windowsill nearby, watching the madness unfold with disinterest. She occasionally swatted a loose scrap of paper or a piece of ribbon or flicked her tail lazily, as if nothing could be more boring than making Christmas cards.

 

Malakar glanced at his daughter, Aurora, whose hands were now painted in every color imaginable. “I don’t think you’re making cards, little one. You’re creating a modern art piece,” he remarked with a laugh.

 

Aurora let out a joyful coo and slapped the card again, adding more paint to the already vibrant chaos.

 

“Yeah, right,” Grimble agreed, his eyes twinkling. “Let’s hope Isolde likes avant-garde art. It’ll certainly leave an impression.” He squinted at his card, which was a bit more traditional but still covered in whimsical flourishes and splashes of color.

 

“Does anyone know what to write?” Flord asked, scratching his head. “What do you say to someone who’s been around for centuries?”

 

“Just write something from the heart,” Malakar suggested. He dipped a brush into red paint and began adding accents to a card he was making for his youngest brother, Cedric. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate the effort.”

 

Flord stared at the blank scroll parchment in front of him and sighed. “Right. From the heart…” he murmured, his quill hovering uncertainly above the parchment.

 

Tibber, watching Flord, shrugged and began to doodle on a card for Xanthar, another member of the Obsidian's Keep, drawing a rather charming but crude picture of the Obsidian’s Keep leader, Eldrin, with a crown on top of his head. He leaned over to Flord and whispered, “There, that’s good. Who doesn’t like a bit of humor?”

 

Malakar, with his usual calm demeanor, finished up the last details of his card, making sure the paint was dry before carefully writing a personal note to his parents. He smiled softly as he pictured them. They had always been a constant source of support, even if they had never fully understood his darker, more mysterious nature.

 

He caught Grimble’s eye as he placed the finishing touches on his card. “I think they’ll like it.”

 

Grimble nodded, carefully brushing glitter onto a card. “You know they will. Elara’ll probably cry when she reads it, and

Thorne will just smirk like usual.”

 

Malakar’s expression softened, and he gave a slight nod, his gaze drifting to Aurora, who was now making circles on the card with a purple crayon. “She’ll make them smile, too, even if she doesn’t know it yet.”

 

The room was filled with a comforting, gentle chaos—the kind that only happened when a group of mismatched souls came together to create something meaningful. Laughter, squawks, and the sound of Aurora babbling in her non-verbal way filled the air as they continued their work, each card a small token of love, effort, and togetherness.

 

When all of the cards were made and dried, Malakar placed each of them into envelopes, stamped them, and sealed them tight with wax before sending them off with a flick of his wrist.

 

In the end, despite the mess, Malakar knew one thing was certain: these cards would mean more than any gift ever could. They were a symbol of family—blood and chosen—and the shared warmth of the season.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 105: Decorating The Lair

-

Inside the glow of Malakar's cavern lair home, the air was filled with burning wood and fresh pine. Inside the lair, however, was filled with large crates full of decorations and a freshly-cut pine tree sat beside the crackling fireplace.

 

Today, Malakar, his henchmen, Grimble, Flord, and Tibber, and the rest of their unusually formed family, would be decorating the lair for Christmas.

 

He had always loved decorating the lair for the holiday, but, ever since adopting little Aurora from that dingy tower, he wanted to decorate the lair from top to bottom and make it extra special for Aurora.

 

Aurora, who was playing with an ornament she grabbed from one of the crates (which was thankfully, one of the ones made of felt), watched as Malakar's loyal (yet, slightly annoying) henchmen, Grimble, Flord, and Tibber bumbled and fumbled around while attempting to decorate the lair, giggling with delight.

 

“Flord, don’t cover yourself with tinsel! It’s a decoration, not your personal snow pile,” Malakar scolded his henchman, who was covered in shiny, silver, tinsel.

 

“Sorry, boss,” Flord muttered, shaking the tinsel off of him, much like a dog would do after a swim while Tibber chuckled beside him.

 

“This stuff is so shiny,” Tibber said, squinting at the reflective tinsel. “Why can't we make snow angels out of it?”

 

“Because it’s for joy, not to go to waste,” Malakar said firmly, adjusting the indigo-colored sash that hung over his shoulder. “Now, Grimble, where’s that wreath I asked you to hang?”

 

Grimble walked over, holding a large wreath adorned with pinecones and berries. “Right here, boss. Roisin kept trying to sniff it. She almost ate the berries.”

 

At the mention of her name, the enormous Irish Wolfhound rushed into the room, wagging her tail and barking happily.

 

“Roisin, leave the decorations alone,” Malakar said, though his tone was far from harsh. "The berries are not for eating."

 

Roisin whimpered, but, Malakar gave her a pat on the head to assure her that he wasn't angry with her.

 

“Aurora, my little star, look at what we’re doing for you.” He walked over to his daughter and gently stroked her auburn curls. Aurora giggled happily again, a gummy smile spreading across her face.

 

Meanwhile, Pippin the mouse scurried up the Christmas tree, placing candles around the tree's branches. In those days, because lightbulbs weren't invented yet, people would place candles around their Christmas trees to make them glow, almost like fireflies. 

 

"Excellent work, Pippin," Malakar praised, "this will make our tree shine brighter than the others."

 

Pippin squeaked in response.

 

Tully, on the other hand, was batting an ornament with her paws as if it were a ball of yarn.

 

Above them, Corvus the raven was placing holly on top of the table, bookshelves, and mantle pieces.

 

Malakar took a step back, surveying their progress. A wreath hung proudly above the carved stone hearth where stockings, which Malakar had knitted himself, were carefully hung above the fireplace. The tree sparkled with candlelight, shiny baubles, tinsel, and ornaments made of whicker, felt, and other various materials.

 

"It looks excellent," said Malakar, "however, it just needs one more thing."

 

Roisin barked and ran up to Malakar, a beautiful golden star resting in her mouth.

 

"Ah," said Malakar as Roisin dropped the star in the sorcerer's hand, "thank you Roisin."

 

Then, Malakar had another idea.

 

He walked over to Aurora, scooping her up from her spot on the floor. “My little star, since this is your first Christmas, this honour is yours.”

 

Aurora clapped her tiny hands, her auburn curls bouncing as Malakar lifted her high above his head.

 

“Careful, boss,” Grimble said nervously, wringing his hands.

 

“Do you doubt my strength, Grimble?” Malakar asked with a smirk, balancing Aurora effortlessly.

 

With an excited coo, Aurora reached out and grabbed the star, playing with it gently before Malakar guided her hand to the top of the tree. She placed the star perfectly, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

 

“Perfect!” Tibber cheered from below. “She’s a natural!”

 

Roisin barked her approval, her tail thumping against the floor. Corvus, perched on a ledge above, cawed loudly in approval.

 

“Well done, little one,” Malakar said softly, pressing a kiss to Aurora’s cheek. “You’ve made this tree truly ours.”

 

As the family gathered around to admire their work, the cavern seemed warmer and brighter. Aurora babbled happily in

Malakar’s arms, her tiny hands reaching out toward the glowing star.

 

“For our first Christmas together,” Malakar said, his deep voice filled with rare tenderness. “May it be the first of many.”

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 104: Letters for Father Christmas

-

The cavern lair of Malakar the Sorcerer was aglow with warm, golden light. The grand hearth blazed, crackling softly, as snowflakes swirled outside the crystal windows carved into the stone.

Grimble, Flord, and Tibber, Malakar's loyal (and slightly annoying) henchmen were helping themselves to a box of sugar plums that the sorcerer had purchased at the village's candy shop the other day while Roisin, the Irish Wolfhound, Tully, the cat, Pippin the mouse, and Corvus, the raven were warming themselves up by the crackling fire.

Aurora, Malakar's seven-month-old adopted daughter, was seated on her highchair, playing with a lone block. Suddenly, Malakar came in and dropped a stack of scroll parchments, quills, and ink bottles on the dining room table.

“Right,” Malakar began, passing out scroll parchments, quills, and ink bottles to everyone, “we’ve got a very important task to get to today—writing our Christmas lists to Father Christmas.”

Roisin, the wolfhound, perked her ears and thumped her tail against the floor.

Even Tully perked up at the idea.

“Writing to Father Christmas?” Grimble looked at Malakar. “Isn't that little kids stuff?”

"Nonsense," said Malakar, taking a piece of scroll parchment, "Anyone can write a letter to Father Christmas these days. I have seen some adults in the village write to Father Christmas every now and again. Besides, it is going to be Aurora's first Christmas and I want her to experience everything there is about the holiday."

Tibber clapped his hands eagerly. “I already know what I’m asking for! A new pair of boots. Mine have holes!”

"I would love some new guards for when we play Cricket," said Flord, "my old guards are getting worn and tearing apart."

“Let us begin, then,” Malakar said, sitting down with his quill in hand. “Corvus, I can dictate your letter if your claws cannot manage the quill. I am already dictating Pippin's, Roisin's, and Tully's letters, so, if you need it, I will offer that assistance.”

Corvus cawed in response.

Soon, everyone got to work on their letters.

After Malakar wrote his letter, he helped Pippin, Tully, Roisin, and Corvus write their letters.

When the letters were written, Malakar folded them neatly, placed them into envelopes, and used his magic to add waxed seals in the middle of the front and stamps on the back.

Aurora, meanwhile, sat on Malakar's lap and watched as the rest of her family wrote their letters.

"Now, little one," said Malakar, adjusting Aurora's position on his lap, "it's time we get to work on your letter to Father Christmas. I'll help you write it, but, soon, once you're older, you'll be writing your letter to Father Christmas all on your own."

Aurora babbled happily, obviously excited about the task.

"Now, what would you like for Christmas?" Malakar asked his daughter, bopping her gently on her nose with his finger.

Aurora gurgled in reply, her laughter bubbling up like tiny bells. Malakar smiled warmly.

He wrote down the following for Aurora's list:

-A new teddy bear. -Boxes of pencil crayons and felt-tip pens. -A marionette puppet. -Alphabet blocks. -A paper windmill. -Pop-Up Books. -A pretty doll.

Malakar smiled at his work and after writing Aurora's name on the bottom, he placed the letter in an envelope, sealed it, and placed a stamp on the back. "There," he said, leaning back in his chair. "May Father Christmas find our humble cavern and fulfill these wishes."

Then, with a wave of his hand, he magically transported their letters to the village's mailbox.

And so, with letters sent, dreams whispered into the night air, and the warm, cozy cavern filled with a sense of togetherness, Malakar rocked his daughter gently in his arms, a quiet smile on his lips as the magic of the season embraced them all.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 103: Ginger Biscuits One and All

It had been a rather slow yet boring snowy day in the cavern lair of Malakar, the sorcerer, and his family. Seeing that there was nothing better to do, Malakar decided that today would be the day to have some family fun.   And, of course, he knew exactly what he would do.   The sorcerer spent the entire morning making dough for his infamous homemade ginger biscuits. When the biscuits were baked and cooled, Malakar laid out little bowls and jars filled with royal frosting, colored icing, and an assortment of candies on the dining room table.   Today, Malakar and his entire family were going to decorate the ginger biscuits that Malakar had made and everyone was going to decorate their biscuit however he or she wanted.   Aurora, seated in her high chair, gurgled with delight at the sight of everything laid on the table. She couldn't wait to get started decorating.   Grimble, Flord, and Tibber, Malakar’s bumbling yet well-meaning henchmen, sat at their seats, ready to get started on the activity. Corvus, Malakar’s sleek black raven, perched on the top of a chair, his head tilted curiously. Pippin, a tiny gray mouse, sat next to Corvus, while Roisin, the towering Irish Wolfhound, wagged her tail, her blue brindle fur shimmering like steel. Tully, the family cat, on the other hand, sat on a stool and observed as Malakar put a plate of freshly baked ginger biscuits in the middle of the table, cooled off, and ready for decorating.   "There we are," said Malakar, taking off his oven mitts and setting them on the kitchen counter, "alright everyone, now, you can each take a ginger biscuit and decorate it however you like."   Without waiting another second, Grimble, Flord, and Tibber began snatching and swiping some of the best ginger biscuits from the plate and began to work on their masterpieces.   Malakar, meanwhile, took two biscuits (one for him and one for Aurora), and while he used a bit of magic to make his own biscuit get decorated, he helped Aurora decorate hers.   Corvus helped Pippin decorate his biscuit while Roisin helped clean up the floor (which was her licking the fallen frosting, crumbs, and candies off the floor) and Tully observed the entirety of the activity.   Grimble worked feverishly, creating a dragon covered in red frosting with fiery orange candy flames. “Mine’s the best, obviously,” he said, puffing out his chest.   Flord meticulously added delicate icing details to his snowflake. “Elegance is key,” he said with an air of superiority.   Tibber decorated his reindeer-shaped biscuit with green icing and rainbow sprinkles. “This one’s for Roisin!” he said proudly, holding it up for her approval. Roisin barked her appreciation.   Aurora, meanwhile, babbled happily as Malakar guided her tiny hand to spread a blob of royal frosting on a star-shaped biscuit. She promptly tried to eat the frosting-covered spoon, eliciting a chuckle from Malakar.   Corvus used his beak to sprinkle some gold candies on top of his bell-shaped biscuit, which was basically a chaotic masterpiece of black and white icing while Roisin lifted Pippin with her nose to the top of the table so that he could put some single candy on his tiny biscuit, squeaking with satisfaction.   Tully dipped her paw into a bowl of blue icing and delicately swiped it across her Christmas tree-shaped biscuit, adding a sprinkle of silver candies on top using her mouth to tip them on top of the biscuit.    Malakar held up his creation—a biscuit shaped like a crescent moon, decorated with shimmering silver and gold icing. “A fitting tribute to the winter night,” he said proudly.   By the time the decorating was done, the dining room table was a kaleidoscope of colors, candies, and creativity.    “A fine effort,” Malakar said, surveying the others. “Though I think Aurora’s star outshines them all.”   Aurora clapped her hands, her face beaming with joy. The room erupted into laughter and cheers as the first bites of their creations were taken, the warmth of the moment outshining even the coldest winter day outside.