it was Friday of February 1991 where his mother wa

The wind howled a lullaby outside, a mournful song that echoed the anxieties fluttering in Elara’s heart. It was Friday, February 14th, 1991, a Valentine’s Day shrouded in the anticipation of a new dawn – the dawn of her second child. Elara, with hair the color of spun moonlight and eyes like the summer sky, sat on a plush velvet cushion, her hands resting on her swollen belly. Beside her, perched on a stool carved from ancient oak, sat a tiny, shimmering sprite named Lumina.

Lumina, no bigger than Elara’s thumb, had wings like stained glass, catching the firelight dancing in the hearth. She was a guardian sprite, gifted to Elara by the Whispering Willow on her wedding day, tasked with guiding her through the miracle of childbirth. Tonight, Lumina wasn’t just a companion; she was a midwife of the mystical kind.

Elara, following Lumina’s gentle instructions, breathed deeply, her chest rising and falling like the tides. Each exhale was accompanied by a soft, silvery chime that only Lumina could hear – the chimes of the Moonflower Meadow, a hidden realm where new souls waited to bloom. “Imagine the meadow, Elara,” Lumina whispered, her voice like the tinkling of ice crystals. “Imagine the moonflowers, their petals unfolding, welcoming your little one.”

As Elara breathed, the room transformed. The rough-hewn walls softened, becoming walls of shimmering amethyst. The fire crackled with the sound of laughing stars, and the shadows danced with mischievous pixies. Each breath carried Elara closer to the Moonflower Meadow, the scent of honeysuckle and starlight filling the air.

Suddenly, a gust of wind rattled the window, and a single snowdrop, impossibly vibrant and glowing with an inner light, floated into the room. It landed on Elara’s belly, its delicate stem pulsing with a gentle rhythm. Lumina smiled, her tiny face radiant. “The first sign,” she chirped. “Your little one is eager to meet the world.”

The pains began subtly, like the soft strumming of a harp. But with each contraction, the magic intensified. Lumina hummed an ancient lullaby, her voice weaving a spell of comfort and strength around Elara. The pixies flitted around, their laughter echoing the joyful anticipation. The snowdrop glowed brighter, its light chasing away any trace of fear.

Hours passed in a shimmering haze of magic and love. Finally, with a cry that echoed the joy of a thousand sunrises, a baby girl was born. Her skin was the colour of fresh cream, her hair like spun gold, and her eyes, oh, her eyes, were the very colour of Lumina’s wings – a kaleidoscope of breathtaking hues.

As the mother cradled her newborn daughter, the magic faded. The amethyst walls returned to their humble form, the pixies vanished, and the fire settled to a comforting glow. But the memory of the Moonflower Meadow, the chimes, the snowdrop, and Lumina’s guiding light remained, a cherished secret, a tale whispered from generation to generation, a testament to the magic that accompanies every new beginning, especially on a Valentine’s Day in February of 1991. And so, the little girl, named Lyra, grew up knowing she was born under a sky full of stars and the watchful eyes of a tiny, shimmering sprite.