Chapter 49: Echoes of the Past (2)
Alaric Hufflepuff
Before he even opened his eyes, Alaric felt it.
Warmth.
Not just in the air, but in his very soul, wrapping around him like a familiar embrace.
The scent of wildflowers, fresh earth, and ripened grain filled his lungs.
The distant laughter of children, the rustling of wheat in the breeze, the babbling of a nearby brook, everything was alive with quiet magic.
Sunlight bathed his skin in a golden glow, and when he finally opened his eyes, he found himself standing in the middle of an endless field, its rolling expanse stretching toward the horizon like a living sea of gold and green.
The wind whispered through the tall grasses, bending them in gentle waves, while in the distance, a brook babbled over smooth stones, its waters glinting in the midday light.
There was peace here. A sense of belonging so profound it made his breath hitch in his throat.
And then, he felt her presence. Steady as the earth beneath his feet.
A presence, warm and steady as the sun above, approaching with unhurried steps.