Chapter 15: The Enigma of the Winstons

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Gathering around the still crackling fire, I felt the anticipation in the room. Each member of the Winston family was eager to piece together the fragmented tales of their ancestry, to understand the ties that bound them to this mansion and the mysterious Nemona.

"Initially It slipped my mind when I first heard about your family. But as I got to spend more time with you, my memories and visions made it clear that you were no ordinary family. The Winstons," I began, letting the name resonate, "have always been more than mere mortals. Throughout generations, your lineage has been blessed with the guardianship of magical relics and artifacts, each holding vast powers and secrets. "

Moving to this mansion was no mere coincidence. "This mansion has been in the Winston lineage for centuries, though not always directly under your name. Its walls have witnessed countless events of magic and mystery. Over time, as cities grew and modernity crept in, the mansion was forgotten, left to tales and legends, until it called you back, sensing the time was right."

Beatrice's ties to Nemona are deeply rooted. "Nemona, once a guardian of powerful magic, was betrayed, not by an external enemy, but by those she trusted. My suspicion suggests that a Winston of old, perhaps a distant ancestor, played a part in this betrayal, either by mistake or intent. Beatrice, with her exceptional gift of music, is a reincarnation or descendant of that very individual. Her melodies don't just harness magic; they resonate with Nemona's very essence, acting as a beacon, calling out to the lost spirit."

As for the magical objects in the family's possession, "The camera, currently wielded by Tommy, is an artifact of sight and perception. It doesn't just capture the present, but layers of the past, the hidden, and occasionally, glimpses of potential futures. The locket, on the other hand, acts as a key, an activator. When combined with Beatrice's melodies, it has the power to bridge realms or seal them away."

Lila's susceptibility to Nemona wasn't mere vulnerability. "Lila possesses a heightened sensitivity to spirits and energies. She acts as a conduit, feeling ripples and disturbances in the magical realm more acutely than others."

While in the midst of discussing what tied the family to old magic, Lionel looked at Gilbert. It was a look of deep introspection and sorrow, as if he was about to unveil a secret that had long been a burden. Taking a deep breath, he began.

"Gilbert," he started, his voice filled with a gravitas I hadn't heard before, "do you recall our summers at Grandmother's estate? The woods, the old tales, the hidden groves?"

Gilbert nodded, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Yes, but I always thought those were just stories. Legends to keep young children entertained."

Lionel sighed. "While you played in the sunlit meadows, I ventured deeper into the woods. Drawn by whispers, by fleeting shadows, by a curiosity that was insatiable. Those 'legends' were not mere tales. They were our history, our legacy."

A hushed silence fell upon the room. Even the wind outside seemed to pause, waiting for Lionel to continue.

"Once, deep in the forest, I stumbled upon a glade, bathed in moonlight even during the day. And there, in the center, stood a stone circle. I was compelled to step inside, and the moment I did, the world changed."

I silently pondered, "Is he referring to the very same circle unveiled by Beatrice's melody and captured by Tommy's camera?"

Gilbert, incredulous, interrupted, "What do you mean 'changed'?"

Lionel's gaze drifted, recalling memories. "Time, space... reality itself seemed to warp. I wasn't in our world anymore. It felt different, like It was a realm of magic, of spirits and ancient entities. That's where I met her... Nemona. But not as the entity we now know. She was a radiant guardian, a protector of magic. Perhaps that realm still held her real essence and image"

Through Lionel's eyes, I saw the pain, the wonder, and the regret as he recounted his experiences.

"Something happened there, Gilbert. A pact was made, unintentionally. Not with Nemona, but with the very magic of the land. A swirling, radiant force enveloped me, and as it did, I felt memories not my own – memories of Winstons from times past, their deeds, their promises. The force, the magic itself, it... it seemed to imprint upon me an unspoken vow – to uphold and respect our family's ties to the arcane. But when I returned, after days had passed, with the weight of the responsibilities, and the fear of the magic I had witnessed, I chose to hide it all. I believed that ignorance would shield us."

Gilbert looked conflicted, torn between disbelief and understanding. "So, all this time, you knew?"

Lionel nodded, remorse evident. "Yes, in some sense I thought I was protecting us."

Nemona: The Witch of ScarantonOn viuen les histories. Descobreix ara