Hello dear ones and welcome to tonight's reading the final part of a story i wrote called the light within before we begin just taking a few moments to make yourself comfortable if you're in bed maybe stretching out if you're in bed snuggling down into your pillow and your duvet maybe taking some deeper breaths in and slower breaths out just fully arriving here now in this space in this moment and when you are ready dear ones we will continue with our story Chapter Six In the days that followed Alderwood felt restless,
Caught between gratitude and unease.
Some villagers smiled warmly at Imogen,
Offering her bread or kind words when she passed.
Others crossed the street to avoid her,
Whispering behind their hands.
Imogen felt both seen and unseen all at once.
For the first time she no longer carried her gift in silence,
Yet she also felt the sharp sting of doubt from those who feared her.
Ciaran tried to cheer her,
Skipping stones on the riverbank as they walked home one afternoon.
They'll come around,
He said confidently.
They just need time to see what I see.
Imogen forced a small smile.
I hope so.
But far across the square,
Cawthon had already begun his work.
He lingered in taverns,
Muttering to anyone who would listen.
Strange isn't it that the fire started the very day she revealed herself,
He said darkly.
Think on it,
What better way to make herself look like a saviour than to start the danger herself?
The words spread like weeds,
Quick and choking.
By the week's end half the village was murmuring them.
Imogen felt it in the way people looked at her.
Wearier now,
Sharper.
Children who had once smiled at her now hid behind their mother's skirts.
One evening as she fetched water from the well,
She overheard two women speaking.
If she can summon rain,
Who's to say she can't summon fire,
Too?
Better not to trust her.
Best to send her away before worse comes.
The words pierced Imogen like thorns.
She walked home with her bucket heavy in her hands,
Heavier still in her heart.
That night she sat by the fire with her mother,
Silent tears slipping down her cheeks.
Why do they hate me for helping?
She whispered.
Her mother brushed a hand over her hair.
Fear is a powerful thing,
Imogen.
People often fear what they cannot understand.
But remember,
Fear can be softened by love.
It only takes patience.
Imogen nodded,
But her heart felt no lighter.
The next day,
Determined to confront the source,
She sought out Corvin.
She found him near the ruins of his workshop,
Sitting on a blackened beam with bitterness etched deep into his face.
Why are you spreading lies about me?
She asked softly.
Corvin looked up,
His eyes hard.
Lies?
Or truth no one wants to face?
I would never harm this village,
Imogen said.
You know that.
He barked a humorless laugh.
I know nothing of the sort.
I've seen what blessings become.
Fire took everything from me,
My wife,
My little girl.
And where was your magic then,
Hmm?
Where was your help when I needed it most?
His voice cracked,
But anger quickly swallowed it.
You claim to save lives,
But you didn't save theirs.
So tell me,
Why should I believe you are anything but danger waiting to happen?
Imogen's throat tightened.
She stepped closer,
Kneeling in front of him.
Slowly,
Carefully,
She reached out and took his weathered hand.
At first he tried to pull away,
But then he froze.
Warmth seeped through his skin,
Not heat like fire,
But something gentler.
A soft light stirred between them,
Not seen by anyone else,
But felt deeply by him.
In that moment,
Colvin saw flashes,
Not of flames,
But of laughter.
Of his wife's smile.
Of his daughter's tiny hand in his.
The memories he had buried beneath anger stirred to life.
Not as pain,
But as love.
Tears spilled down his cheeks.
He dropped his head into his hands and wept for the first time in years.
Imogen's own eyes burned.
I can't change the past,
She whispered,
But I can help heal what it left behind.
Colvin sobbed until his strength gave out,
Until the bitterness that had clung to him like chains began to loosen.
When he finally lifted his face,
It was marked not with anger,
But with sorrow and a small,
Fragile glimmer of peace.
Imogen rose quietly,
Leaving him to his grief.
As she walked back toward the village,
She felt the shift within her.
True strength was not in saving lives alone,
But in touching hearts broken by loss.
And though Colvin's hatred had begun to soften,
The village itself was still divided.
Fear lingered,
Waiting like a storm yet to break.
Chapter Seven The air in Alderwood was gentler after that night.
Though suspicion had not vanished,
Something had shifted.
Colvin no longer muttered dark words in the tavern.
He worked quietly to mend his ruined workshop,
Often pausing when Imogen passed,
Not with bitterness,
But with a heavy nod of respect.
Some villagers still whispered,
Still crossed themselves when she walked by,
Yet others began to seek her out.
A farmer asked her to bless his field before planting.
A mother with a sick child knocked on her door in the dead of night,
Desperate for help.
An old woman begged her to ease her aching bones.
Imogen did what she had always done.
She helped,
But this time,
She did not hide.
With every act of kindness,
The walls of fear began to crumble.
Not quickly,
Not completely,
But enough for hope to seep through.
Ciaran became her constant companion.
He carried baskets,
Fetched water,
And kept her laughing when shadows threatened to settle in her heart.
Though still a boy,
He spoke with surprising wisdom at times.
You said you wanted to use your gift to help people,
He told her one morning as they walked the sunlit path to the fields.
Well,
Now you are.
Not just here,
But maybe one day everywhere.
Imogen smiled,
Though the thought made her chest ache with something like longing.
It wasn't long before travelers began to arrive.
Word of Alderwood's light girl had spread along the trade roads.
A man came limping,
His leg twisted from an old wound.
He left walking straighter,
Tears in his eyes.
A grieving widow came,
Hollow with sorrow.
She left with her heart eased,
If only a little,
A smile trembling back into place.
And each time Imogen felt her gift grow,
Not because her magic deepened,
But because love multiplied the more it was given.
One evening,
As the sun dipped low and painted the fields in gold,
Imogen stood on the hill outside her cottage.
She looked down at the village,
Its chimneys smoking,
Its people moving quietly through their lives.
This had been her whole world once,
A single place,
A single secret.
But now,
She knew her path stretched farther than Alderwood's borders.
Her gift was not meant to be hidden.
Nor to belong to one village alone.
Ciaran joined her,
Hands tucked into his pockets.
You're thinking of leaving,
He said,
Not as a question,
But as truth.
Imogen nodded slowly.
Not forever,
But there are so many in need.
If I can bring light to them,
How can I stay in one place?
Ciaran was silent for a long time.
Then,
He grinned faintly,
Well,
Someone's got to carry your baskets.
Imogen laughed,
The sound bright and clear.
As the stars blinked awake in the sky,
She whispered a vow.
Not to the village,
Not even to herself,
But to the world.
I will walk wherever there is shadow,
She said,
And I will bring light.
And so began the next chapter of her life.
Not as a secret child hiding her gift,
But as Imogen of Alderwood.
The girl who chose to use her magic for love,
For healing,
For hope.
The girl who carried light into the darkest places.
The girl whose story was only just beginning.
