The first fingers of dawn crept through the treetops, washing the forest in faint gold as Eira moved through the dense woods. Her white hair shimmered in the low light, her wand held steadily in one hand. It had been hours since she'd escaped that burning barn on the cliffside. Her legs ached, her lips were dry, but her spirit refused to break.
Every few trees, she carved a tiny mark into the bark—careful not to double back on her path. The forest stretched endlessly in every direction, silent and unfamiliar.
Then, the sound of running water caught her attention.
A river.
She broke into a trot and found it winding through the trees, cutting the forest clean in two. Eira paused at the edge, recalling survival advice she'd once read: If you're lost in the wild, follow the river. It will lead to people or places .
With cautious hope, she began to follow its course downstream.
Two or three hours passed before signs of life appeared—a thin wisp of smoke in the air, the faint scent of burning wood. Then, as she rounded a bend in the river, she saw them: a pitched tent, a small campfire, and a dog tied to a post. Eira stopped.
Her heart skipped with cautious hope.
Slowly, she approached, keeping to the trees at first. The dog was the first to notice. It growled, then barked sharply, pulling at its leash.
A man and a woman emerged from the tent. The man was holding a shotgun.
They froze when they saw her.
A lone child. Pale, strange white hair. With strange clothing. Here, in the middle of nowhere.
The woman gasped. "Mein Gott," she whispered to the man in German. "Be careful… she's just standing there."
Eira raised both hands gently.
"Je suis désolée de vous déranger," she said in French. "Je suis perdue. Pouvez-vous m'aider?"
They blinked at her, confused.
"No French," the man said. "German? Do you speak German?"
Eira shook her head, then quickly switched to English. "Please. I'm lost. I've been here for two days. My parents said they would come for me, but they didn't. I don't know what to do."
The woman stepped forward. Her accent was thick, but her English was kind. "You… you are alone? Where are your parents?"
"I don't know," Eira said, lowering her eyes. "Three days ago, they told me to wait… and I did. But they didn't come back. I followed the river. Then I found you."
The man lowered the gun slightly and looked to his wife. "She's abandoned," he said softly in German. "Who would do such a thing?"
The woman knelt. "Come. It is cold. Come warm up."
Eira was ushered into their tent and offered a flask of water. She drank gratefully as the woman draped a blanket around her shoulders.
"What is your parents name?" she asked gently. "And… are you from France? You spoke French?"
Eira hesitated. "Yes… I'm from France. My parents' names are Martha and Wayne."
The couple exchanged a glance at the odd names but didn't press her. She learned that they were hikers, lovers of nature who came to this forest for peace and fresh air.
Relief flooded her. After hours of fear and uncertainty, she had found kindness.
"Where are we?" Eira asked.
The woman answered, "Germany. Near the national forest. You… you did not know?"
Eira's heart dropped. Germany. So those fuckers had taken her across multiple borders.
The woman stood and looked at her husband. "We must go. We can't leave her here and it's best to take her to a Police station and see if they can find those cruel people who abounded their child ."
He nodded and began packing up their gear.
"It is two hours' walk to our car," the woman told Eira. "We will drive you to the city. To the police. They will help."
Eira smiled gratefully. "Thank you."
They broke camp and began the slow trek down the hill with their dog leading the way. The forest slowly gave way to a path, and eventually, they reached a gravel parking lot filled with other vehicles—likely other hikers who had come and gone unnoticed.
The couple helped Eira into the back seat and loaded their gear. The ride was long—six or seven hours along winding roads, through sleepy villages and hills. But Eira didn't complain. She was finally moving toward safety.
They arrived in a modest city and drove straight to the local police station.
Inside, the couple explained as best they could in German how they had found a child alone in the forest. The officers, though confused, nodded and took notes.
One of them, understanding a bit of English, knelt beside Eira and offered her a soft smile. "We help you, okay? You are safe now."
The couple lingered. The woman was hesitant to leave.
"She is a child," she said in broken English. "I… I feel scared for her."
The officer reassured her. "We contact French embassy. We find out who she is. Don't worry."
Eira stood and bowed slightly to the couple. "Thank you. Truly."
They smiled warmly. The woman kissed her forehead. "Be brave."
After their farewell, Eira was taken to a small room where she was given milk tea and a sandwich. The police let her rest, speaking softly and kindly. One of them even gave her a cookie.
After some time, an officer said, "If you are bored you may walk. Just here, in station. You are not prisoner."
So she wandered a little—watching officers work, smiling at those who smiled at her. Some made silly faces to cheer her up. Others ruffled her hair gently.
They believed she was a scared, abandoned girl.
They weren't wrong.
Yet as Eira walked past one desk, something caught her eye.
A wand.
Sticking out from the coat of a man hunched over paperwork. A real wand. Her breath hitched.
A wizard.
She froze. Her mind raced. Should she approach him? Could he be trusted? Or was he like the men who'd kidnapped her?
It was a gamble.
But it was one she had to take.
Eira walked forward and stood beside the man. He didn't look up.
"Go away, kid," he grunted in German. "I'm working."
Without a word, she reached into her coat and pulled out one of the wands she'd taken from her captors. She laid it on the desk in front of him.
The man froze mid-sentence.
His eyes locked onto the wand. Then they darted to her.
"Zauberer?" he asked sharply.
Eira nodded once.
He stood abruptly, snatching the wand. "Are you mad? Did no one teach you never to show this in front of Muggles?"
"I don't understand German," she said quickly. "English or French?"
He switched to clumsy French. "You—student? From where?"
"Beauxbâtons," she said. "I need to contact someone. Anyone. I need help."
He scowled. "I can't contact France. But I can take you to the German Ministry. Now is not place to speak magic."
With a flick of his wand, he turned to the other officers. "Obliviate."
Eira watched as the officers' faces went blank—memories wiped clean.
"What did you do?" she asked.
"Erased you," he said. "To them, you were never here. Come."
Eira hesitated—but then followed.
She quietly slipped the second wand into her system space. Just in case.
The man led her out of the station, down a quiet alleyway. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder.
"We go to Berlin. The Ministry is there. Hold still."
With a crack, the world spun.
When it settled again, Eira found herself standing on the edge of a cobbled street in the German capital. The morning sun was rising behind the skyline.
"Follow," the man ordered.
They walked beneath a massive bridge toward what looked like an abandoned stairwell.
"This," he said, "is the entrance."
And together, they disappeared into the shadowy underpass—toward the hidden world of German wizardry.