Lumi

The forest had grown dark by the time Cirrus had returned from the lighthouse. It was quiet, and the soft flicker of the lanterns along the paths illuminated the thin layer of snow that had begun to accumulate. By this time, the last of the guests and residents had gone back to their rooms for the night, leaving the common room all but empty.

Lumi stoked the fire absent-mindedly with a stick while eyeing the broom that he had enchanted to sweep on its own. Cirrus began to rearrange the chairs and then went to return to their room before Lumi stopped them.

“I have something for you,” Lumi reached into his pocket and took out a single piece of parchment. “Guess what it is?”

Cirrus looked around as if in deep contemplation. “A single sheet of parchment?”

Lumi grinned, his eyes sparkling as he crumpled the sheet of parchment into a ball in his hands and clasped it tightly, obscuring it from Cirrus’s sight. “Now what is it?”

Cirrus stared Lumi in the eyes. They’d seen the trick a thousand times by now, but no matter how many times Lumi performed it, it became no less endearing. Cirrus looked about as if trying to see what Lumi was holding and then offered an answer. “Still a sheet of parchment?”

Lumi opened his hands and dozens of tiny paper birds fluttered out, scattering across the room. They were pretty little things, highly detailed and seemingly lifelike. They chirped quietly, hopping around on the tables and chairs, a few perched themselves onto the ends of Cirrus’s wings.

“Nope,” Lumi laughed, “It’s BIRDS. Now go to bed. It’s late.”