Journey to Happiness

In the dim light of dawn, the small village of Ellsmere lay silent, cloaked in fog. Outside the gates of St. Haven's Orphanage, a bundle rested against the iron bars. Sister Miriam, shuffling through her morning rounds, stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted it.

"A baby..." she whispered to herself, bending down. Carefully, she lifted the bundle and unwrapped a bit of the soft cloth. There, nestled within, was a tiny girl with the biggest, brightest eyes she had ever seen. But her gaze wasn't one of fear. It was as if she knew this was where she was meant to be.

"What a precious little thing," came the soft voice of Sister Anne, who had come to see what the commotion was about.

"I wonder who left her here," Sister Miriam murmured. "No note, no name. Just... her." She cradled the baby close, and the little one stirred, one hand reaching up as if grasping for something in a dream.

"We must call her something. We can't just have her grow up as 'the foundling'," Sister Anne mused thoughtfully, her brow creasing.

Sister Miriam's eyes drifted to the delicate purple flower tucked into the baby's blanket-small and unassuming, yet vibrant and full of life.

"Do you remember this flower?" she asked, brushing her fingertips over the bloom's petals. "An old soul, like an echo from another time... I think it's called a Zazriel. A forgotten bloom, like her."

"Zazriel." Sister Anne tried the name on her tongue, and the two women shared a glance. It was as if the name itself had been waiting to be spoken. The baby seemed to sense it, her little fingers curling and her eyelids fluttering.

"Then she shall be Zazriel," Sister Miriam said, smiling. "A rare, precious bloom. Even if the world has forgotten her, she is here now. And we'll remember."

And with that, Zazriel was welcomed into her new world, though neither Sister Miriam nor Sister Anne could have known the path that lay before her.