We venture outside, and I diligently collect all the twigs I had noticed earlier near the front entrance. Janie and Xander, utilising their magical abilities, make any nearby sticks hover from the ground, making it easier to locate and gather them. Imogen joins in, adding her collection to mine on the kitchen table.
Returning inside the house, Janie and Xander add theirs to the pile. Janie then positions herself before the pile of twigs, her spell book in hand. 'Awake, oh Twigglers, with purpose true, help upkeep the house, chores you'll pursue!' she proclaims, her voice resonating with power.
Our eyes widen in anticipation as we witness the miraculous transformation. Buds sprout from the twigs, unfurling to reveal delicate arms, legs, and heads. More buds appear on their heads, blossoming into leaves, while tiny vines cascade from some, and moss with tiny pink flowers adorns others. Each Twiggler has a unique hairstyle, granting them individuality.
'They look just like fairies but without wings,' I remark in awe, sharing my observation with Janie.
Imogen's excitement bubbles over, and she squeals with delight. 'They even have little fingers and toes! They're so adorable!'
Janie, too, is taken aback by their enchanting appearance. 'I didn't think they'd look so elegant,' she confesses, a note of surprise in her voice.
The Twigglers, now fully awakened, cast curious glances at one another, their eyes filled with a sense of purpose. With synchronized nods, they descend from the table, their tiny figures animated and nimble. Their first order of business is to clean and repair anything that's broken, using their resourcefulness to fashion ladders and tools from twine and sticks.
Silently, we watch in wonder as the Twigglers enthusiastically go about their tasks. They hammer down protruding nails on the floorboards of the passageway while others tie twine from high-reaching nails to swing gracefully, reaching even the most stubborn cobwebs.
Elbowing Janie gently, I direct her attention to the scene unfolding before us. The Twigglers eagerly perform their duties, their tiny forms full of joyous energy filling the room. It's magical to watch as they bring life and harmony back to Grammy's old house.
We form a tight circle, back-to-back, careful not to step on any of the bustling Twigglers as they work their magic. Once the kitchen is clean and sparkling, they scurry off as a group, their tiny forms a blur, eager to tackle the next room.
Yawning, Janie suggests, 'Maybe we should all get some sleep while they continue cleaning through the night?'
We nod in agreement, gathering our bags and following Janie up the stairs. Imogen and I enter the spare rooms for ourselves while Janie settles into Grammy's old bedroom.
'Goodnight, everyone. See you in the morning,' I say to them.
'Night, Rose,' they reply in unison.
Closing my door, I change into my cosy bunny pyjamas, slipping into bed and hugging my pillow tightly, mimicking the comforting embrace my mother would give. The persistent Twigglers do not cease their efforts throughout the night, tirelessly wiping and polishing every surface and tightening every loose screw or nail. I wake a few times to their hammering and cleaning sounds but easily drift back into slumber.
Suddenly, I'm jolted awake, a sense of alarm coursing through me. To my surprise, I find the Twigglers humming solemnly and ceremonially as they meticulously clean my room. Quickly changing into my daytime attire, I hurry downstairs, discovering the entire house gleaming, squeaky clean. Janie, Xander, and Imogen sit around the dining table. Their eyes are half-closed and accompanied by frequent yawns.
'I'm guessing the Twigglers kept you all awake all night?' I inquire sympathy in my voice.
'They decided five am was the perfect time to tackle my room,' Janie groans. 'I probably should have summoned them this morning instead of late last night.'
'They paid me a visit at six am,' Imogen adds with a weary yawn.
'They must have saved my room for last,' I remark, joining them and opening the cereal cupboard. However, as I do so, a sudden cloud of smoke billows out of thin air, startling me. I shriek and stumble backward, only for Mister Kal to leap out of the cupboard, landing on my head and leaping off to pounce onto the table.
'Mister Kal!' they exclaim with excitement, much to my dismay.
'Oh, great,' I mutter under my breath, less thrilled about the mischievous cat's sudden appearance.
With the inside of the house now spick and span, we hear the tiniest chorus of 'Hoorah!' cheers from the Twigglers. They race down the stairs together, their excitement palpable as they dash outside to revel in their well-deserved playtime.
We take our cups of tea to the porch, watching the Twigglers push one another on the swings, play hopscotch, slide down tree branches, and bathe in the bird bath. Their strenuous cleaning and repairs, followed by their joyful activities, have breathed life back into Grammy's old house and the surrounding garden. I tilt my head as I glance at the tapestries inside the house’s entrance and notice the colours have returned and the creatures in the image seem once again content.
As the Twigglers frolic outside, their laughter and playful chatter filling the air, Xander's eyes widen with a spark of curiosity. He spots a classic witch's broom tucked away in a corner, its bristles whispering untold tales of Grammy's past magical adventures. With a mischievous smile, he retrieves the broom and presents it to Janie.
'Janie,' Xander says, his voice laced with amusement, 'Since we're going to Felderia, you should know that all witches use their broom to fly when needed, so I think it would be a good idea if you learnt on your Grammy's old broom.'
Janie's eyes light up at the sight of the broom, its handle worn and weathered from years of use. She takes the broom in her hands, feeling a surge of energy course through her veins as she gazes at the broom's sleek form.
'Me? Flying on a broom!' Janie stresses. You can hear the fear mingling in her voice.
Xander takes Janie's hand, 'Flying on a broom is an essential skill every witch should master. Your Grammy would have soared through the skies on this very broom. This broom holds the legacy of your Grammy's soaring spirit. To fly upon it is to honour her legacy and embrace the power within you,’ he imparts with a smile.