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The moment the soldiers passed the house, raising their lanterns to the door as they walked by, the people inside (forbidden from meeting for fear of a rebellion) began to whisper again. Seven children sat wide-eyed in front of a young woman, whose husband sat beside her, telling stories of times–and people–long past.
“The eldest Madrigal,” she began, voice so quiet one could scarcely hear it over the sounds of the night, “Is Lady Alma. She carries the Miracle with her; the candle that first brought her family into godhood. She is the one who leads the Madrigal family, her candle lighting the way for them and us.
“Lady Alma had three children; the eldest daughter is Julieta, the healer, whose gift allows her to give life to whoever has lost it through the magic in her cooking. Her husband, supposedly, she saved from an army of angered bees, and she healed him and he loved her.
“Alma’s second daughter is called Pepa, the stormbringer. Her domain is the sky– her tears rain down upon the Earth, and her smile brings sunshine to the world. Countless people have been rescued by her rage brought down upon another, and hundreds more Lady Pepa has confronted and judged with a hurricane. Only one has ever been able to pass her tests; a man named Felix, who she took as her husband.
“The eldest male child of the Madrigal family is Bruno, he who sees the future; once, he was blamed for every misfortune of the world, but after he ran away from his family they realized that they were wrong and accepted him back with open arms. Bruno is the one who sees the future of the world, but he does not tell anyone of his visions unless he is asked.
“The Lady of the Wilderness, Isabela, was once perfect in every way; she filled the world with soft, flawless blossoms– rows and rows of roses, flor de mayo by the mile. But it’s easy to forget that nature isn’t always kind and sweet. It’s easy to forget that as much as Isabela was orchids and roses, she was also poison ivy and strangling vines. It’s easy to forget that, even though she was the healer’s eldest daughter, Isabela Madrigal was called the Lady of the Wilderness for a reason.
“Her younger sister, Luisa, was said to have held the world on her shoulders from the moment she received her gift. Her strength rivaled that of the heroes of myth, but she struggled to live up to the legacy of her perfect older sister. Alma’s expectations of her family were just too high– Isabela was unable to live up to them, and even Luisa was unable to hold herself to Isabela’s standards for long.
“The youngest of Julieta’s daughters was Mirabel, the songbird. She never received a gift, not really, but she was the one who would sing her family’s praise as they passed, and she was the one who reunited Bruno with his sisters. Some say Mirabel’s power was the strongest of them all; but no one agrees on what it is.
“Pepa had three children as well; the eldest of which is her daughter, Dolores. Dolores can hear the secrets of humanity, and so she knows nearly everything. It’s impossible to keep a secret from her. Her gift is why secrets are always revealed; Dolores will tell them and the secret-holder will be punished for it.
“Her younger brother, Camilo, is the master of the little hidden things. His power is to shapeshift, and so he protects all the things that can’t be seen unless you look closely; animals hiding in the undergrowth, people who would be hurt if they were to be found… victims of abuse and survivors of trauma, because those aren’t things that can be easily seen. Some people are hurt far worse than they should be and no one ever notices.
“The youngest Madrigal, Antonio, is the Protector of the Wild. If Isabela is flora, then he is fauna; he can speak with the animals, and he uses his gift to protect them, their habitats, and the resources they need. He is kind, and if needed he will extend his protection to a human in need.”
“Where are they now?” asked one child. “Why won’t they protect us?”
The woman smiled.
“They are protecting us,” she said. “Why do you think we heal so quickly? That’s Julieta’s gift at work. Why do you think the storms never hurt us? We are not the ones Pepa is judging. The plants and animals, on their masters’ command, only attack our enemies. Our prophets are Bruno’s successors, our storytellers Mirabel’s.
“Trust me, young ones,” the woman whispered, dropping her voice again as a soldier’s torch flashed light by the door. “They defend us with every breath of the wind.”
—
A beautiful song fell across the town square. A soldier stopped and looked up at the sky, dark with clouds and night. A young lady stepped out of the shadows, but it was clear she was no normal woman; golden antlers graced the top of her head like an ethereal crown, covered with violet flowers, and her white dress bloomed with flowers ranging from gold to a deep purple. Her long, dark hair was caught in the wind. Vines climbed out of the shadows, crawling after her like loyal dogs.
Her appearance struck fear into the soldier’s heart. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I am Isabela, Lady of the Wilderness,” she replied. “I am she who the plants follow, she who is living proof that perfection is unattainable and that the wild cannot be controlled.”
A crack of thunder drowned out the distant, haunting song for a moment. Isabela raised her arms, and plants sprang out of the soldier’s veins. He fell to the ground, dead in a heartbeat, while the white flowers of the vines were stained scarlet with his blood.
Isabela hung his body from a flowering tree in her forest.
—
Another soldier found himself in the midst of a raging storm, a furious red-haired woman in front of him. She wore a sky-blue dress and carried a closed umbrella of the same colour, both trimmed with cloudlike lace. Her hair was tied back with a night-blue ribbon embroidered with the sun and stars in gold.
“How dare you,” she seethed. “You’re hurting my people, how dare you! What, tell me, what have they done to deserve this?”
The second soldier began to cry. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I didn’t want this, I– I–”
“Do you know who I am,” she hissed, “Or what I could do to you? I am Pepa Madrigal, bringer of storms– my wrath has judged countless mortals! And you, who dare to conquer my people– just what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m sorry,” the soldier sobbed, dropping to his knees. “I didn’t want this, they forced me to–”
“Wait,” Pepa said, straightening up at his words. She opened his umbrella above the soldier, shielding him from her furious rain. “Who forced you?”
The soldier was spared that day, accepted into the Madrigals’ protection upon Lady Pepa’s request.
His superiors were not.
—
The Madrigal house was calm and quiet. It was hundreds of years since they’d last had to protect their people, and now they were content to relax and watch the mortal world go by. Isabela was experimenting with colours on her dress, Pepa and Felix dancing in the rain. Lady Alma stood watch over them all, a smile on her face as she turned to look at her granddaughter, Mirabel.
It was time for the Miracle to be passed on to its next protector.