3. Ilangoria. Cursed Daydreaming

First, Ilangoria hid all the magical books and artifacts, then set up numerous traps and protective amulets, cleverly placing poisons here and there.

"But what if this unexpected guest isn’t bothered by any of that?" Ilangoria suddenly doubted, and with one swift jump, she reached her wardrobe, pulling out a special outfit: a dress made of silk skirts with a touch of magical enhancement, which could easily be mistaken for either a blooming wild rose or a clump of dirt and grass. It could easily fall apart into patches, freeing the slender and quick little girl from any bindings.
(Such was Ilangoria’s gift: the ability to bind different materials together and breathe life into them. Among her many peculiarities, she had instinctively learned to weave and twist special magical threads, often called "wondrous threads." When working with them, the girl would fall into a trance: speaking a language understood only by her; and this conversation would, in the most magical way, lead her to something new and utterly astonishing. It opened different ways of perception and creation.
This was her way of understanding or reconsidering the structure of things, using that knowledge to create objects of various magical powers.
Had she been born a couple of centuries earlier, such a talent would have led her to a very different fate, but she appeared in the Witch’s Ridge about a decade ago.)

Rummaging through one of the cotton boxes, the girl snorted and pulled out a spool of wondrous thread.

"Eno feyakh-alu, elesh sheyah. Feyah-eru ruha teya feyakh-ono et; teru!" she sang in a deep voice, a shiver running down her spine as she hastily created a hidden pocket in her clothes, carefully stowing her golden medallion inside. (It wasn’t just the sounds, but also the magical knots the girl was making. Large and small, they created a rhythm and helped her pronounce the usual words differently: slowly, thickly, sometimes even on an inhale.)

"Where is my home, my beginning, no one has power over me! No one has strength against my word!"

The girl twisted the wondrous thread and tied it around her neck.

"Yeno feyakh-alu, yulu sheyah, meya yalukh!" she said ominously, securing the knot.

Ilangoria spent about seven hours preparing for any possible danger. Soon, however, she became a little disappointed as all her efforts seemed to have been in vain.

And just as the day was turning into evening, while Ilanka poured the late tea into cups, a strange hum suddenly filled the entire valley. "O-o, o-o, o-o, yyua-yyua, uoou-uoou...n-n-n-e-e-e."

The little one jumped up, truly horrified, and rushed to the door to double-check all the magical locks, ready to barricade the hallway if necessary.

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