A young Alma had her eyes on a certain man, candle in hand as the night's festivities continued on. They had been talking, and she was becoming more and more sure he was the one. At that moment, her hermana, Juliet, came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Alma lifted her free hand to grasps her sister's, the older woman taking one look at her before winking her honey brown eyes.

"I know that look! Who's the lucky guy?" She didn't give Alma the time to answer, a knowing smile gracing her lips, "It's Pedro, isn't it."

"How'd you know?!"

"You two have been gazing at each other all night." She pointed out, poor Alma blushing a bit in embarrassment. The taller woman's eyes glimmered, "When's the wedding?"

"Juliet..." Alma rolled her eyes. Her sister was always like this. She tried to shake off the slight embarrassment at the happiness the thought of marrying Pedro brought her. The man was just across the sea of people, holding his own candle, waving towards them.

Juliet peeked at Pedro, and then at her hermanita, and her grin widened, "I want mi sobrina's name to be "Julieta", after mi, okey? I have a feeling you won't make your hermana wait long."

"Juliet!" Now she couldn't fight back the embarrassing red spreading across her cheeks.

It wasn't long before her sister's words came true, though. She was happily married to the love of her life, and not long after, was blessed with triplets. Juliet always had that sort of gift, her hunches and gut feelings were almost always accurate, to the point it was sometimes scary.

Don't get Alma started on the moment her eldest daughter was born. When the hard labor was over, Juliet wouldn't stop singing and dancing, chanting that she got her wish. Holding on to her promise, her little girl had been named "Julieta".

The woman actually cried with joy, and her own son, Enrique, was no different. He was his mother's clone if she were a boy. They each took turns holding her three babies, threatening to steal them from her because they were so cute. Needless to say, it was a wonderful day full of joy and laughter.

Alma had thought her life would remain like that, with all of the pieces of her heart by her side laughing like that.

One night, as she put her babies to bed, Juliet took her by the hand. Enrique was asleep by Bruno's crib, having sung the triplets to sleep. Pedro was in another room, having gone out for only a moment.

The woman's usually playful smile became more genuine, and the way she had looked at her... Alma would never forget it. There was a warmth and a depth that the younger Alma just couldn't fathom at the time. Her eyes almost glowed with the candlelight, looking deep into her heart, maybe into the depths of her very soul.

"Juliet...?"

"I hope you know how proud I am of you, Alma," She had said, the air around her more mature than Alma had ever experienced. "You have been blessed with gifts beyond measure; treasure them."

"Of course, I will, with all of my heart." Alma had answered, unsure of why her sister was telling her something so obvious. But that look in her eyes told her to answer with the truth, and nothing but the truth.

It was as if she had known something when she said those words...

And maybe she did. Maybe she had gotten one of her famous gut feelings and was compelled to tell her those things. Back then, Alma let that thought pass her by... but now, fifty years later, she thought differently.

Because that same night, she lost everything.

The fires burned, the men on their horses attacked. Her town evacuated, her sister holding her son and she had her triplets. Pedro had their things as they continued, coming to that river.

But then she lost her Pedro, and collapsed to the ground in her grief.

The candle had lit with its magical flame, blasting those monsters away. But in doing so, it also blasted away someone else that she loved, too. When she found out, however, it was much too late, and there was nothing she could do but grieve for a second time.

"Hermana!" Alma woke up with a start. It had been a long while since she'd had that dream. She got herself ready to go, shaking away the memory as she prepared for the day ahead of her. For the Madrigals, the last few weeks had been hectic. But, in a good way.

Bruno was back, and all of the nonsense rumors about him had receded. He wasn't some bringer of bad fortune, he was literally an innocent bean. An innocent and awkward bean who happened to have the strongest gift of all of the Madrigals. Alma couldn't be happier to have her son home, and that didn't change when the magic returned, along with their gifts.

This time, Alma wanted to do right by her family.

She made sure to shower her youngest son in all of the love he deserved, her little Brunito; she let Pepa dance beneath her beautiful clouds filled with any emotion she felt; And her darling Julieta, she let her know how much she meant to her. She let each of her babies know how much she loved them, and how sorry she was to ever make them think otherwise.

They were her miracle, they were her gift. Them, and the darling grandbabies they provided her, were her treasures. They were the glue that kept her broken heart together, and for so long... she hadn't done her job to let them know that. To know that they were everything to her.

So many apologies she had to give, so many she was willing to give. She had held on too tight, they didn't deserve that. They deserved the freedom to be however they wanted, to be whoever they wanted. They should act and sing and dance in whatever way they wanted, and as their Abuela, she should support them.

She would love them, no conditions needed, no gifts needed. This was the woman she had wanted to be for her family; the support they could lean on, the person they could turn to when things were difficult.

But she had failed in that, spectacularly. She had failed them, and that was how the magic had weakened and broken. It was her fault.

Her precious Mirabel helped her to see that. She had opened her eyes. Mirabel, who would one day lead this family after she was gone. With her at the head, Alma knew that her family would be okay. All of her grandchildren were lights in her life, pieces of her heart, her world. And this time, she would let them know, she would show them just how much they meant to her.

She would be a better Alma.

She would be a better Abuela.

She would be better.

Her Pedro, and her hermana, would have wanted that. Oh, how she wished they could be here with her, watching their familia grow so wondrously... Her sister would have loved all of them, she would have adored them.

When they were given their miracle, at first, she was sure that she had only lost her husband. But then she realized she could not find her sister or her nephew anywhere, no matter how hard she looked. Every part of her wanted to search for them, to go beyond the mountains to bring them home. Because, deep within her soul, she knew that they were alive. She believed in it with every ounce of her being.

But, she could not leave the Encanto. Her babies needed her, her town needed her. So, with a heavy heart, she had to stop her search to care for them.

At night, she cried herself to sleep. She hid her festering pain, becoming the Matriarch of the Madrigals, a mother to her children, the leader of the Encanto. The pain only grew worse when that feeling, that connection that told her they were alive somewhere, severed.

Twice had that happened, and thrice did her heart shatter.

She knew at that moment, that even if she were to leave in search for them, as she had dearly wanted, it would be far too late.

Never had a day gone by that she didn't think of what she'd lost.

She remembered her sister's kind voice, her curly black hair, and warm honey eyes. She was taller than her, being older by a decade. But they were as close as they could get. Alma found herself smiling at the memories; her sister would often tease her and Pedro whenever they were together, telling them to hurry and marry already.

Juliet had lost her husband to an illness just a few years after Alma's precious sobrino, little Enrique, was born, so she stuck close to Alma and her growing family. She helped them settle in their home, make their cribs... Juliet helped them with everything, all while coping with her own loss.

She refused to marry again even though suitors lined the block for a chance with her. She was only concentrated on her family and doting on her only son.

That little boy... Alma remembered him being so excited to meet his primas and primo. He was so sweet, always smiling and singing. He took to a song Juliet sang when she thought of her husband, dos oruguitas. He looked just like his mama, dark chocolate locks that curled endlessly, honey brown eyes warm and full of love. It was impossible not to adore the child.

Alma had to stop herself before her tears began again. It was no use holding on to those precious memories when she knew she would never see them again. She had to let go, to move on. They wouldn't want her to be sad like this.

But it was hard. The last memory she has of them was of them running, the men chasing them, losing her Pedro... and then never being able to find them again.

She had thought she'd made it with them, into the Encanto... but she had been wrong. In her heart, she hoped that they had gotten away, that they had gotten to safety, and that one day... One day they would be reunited again.

But she knew... deep in her heart and soul, that this dream would never come to be.

Letting a sigh escape her, Alma Madrigal finished getting ready for the day. And that was when she noticed it, the strange state of La Casita.

The house was always lively and bright, making music with its tiles and floors. Vibrant and helpful, Casita was just as much a member of the Madrigals as the rest of her familia. After the miracle was restored, it was even more so. Everyone had a magical door depicting their gift, a room tailored to them. And that now included Mirabel, as when they entered the house, a new door just for her came to be.

She didn't get a gift, but it wasn't needed as the picture on the door showed her everything. Just like Alma's door, she was holding the candle, and that was all the old matriarch needed to see to know what that meant.

And she agreed with it wholeheartedly. Casita and the Madrigals rejoiced, and the party lasted longer than any before. It wouldn't happen right then, but when Alma finally stepped down, she knew the family would be in capable hands.

But today, there was a tense air around Casita. A buzz of impatience, anxiousness, anticipation. The floors, shutter, shingles, they all trembled lightly, and panic began to settle in Alma's heart.

"Casita? What's wrong?" Alma asked it. But the shutters shrugged, not knowing themselves. But the magic... it seemed to be reacting to something.

But what?

When she went to check on the candle, she saw it flickering again. But before her worry could fester about the magic being in trouble again, it burned brighter. It blazed on and on until it almost blinded her. It only lasted for a single moment, and when she opened her eyes it was back to normal, still burning brightly.

But when she looked closer, examining the candle, she saw that the butterfly on it was brighter than before.

Had it always been like that?

No, no it hadn't. Fifty long years of taking care of that candle, there was no way for her not to notice the change. It was brighter, more vivid. If she looked long enough she swore the wings fluttered.

And that was the moment Dolores came running towards her, panic in her eyes.

"What's the matter, mi nieta?" Alma asked, her worry clear. She decided to put her questions about the candle on hold. It looked as if Dolores had run a marathon.

"Th- the mountain! I heard the mountain cracking! I think it might—" Dolores didn't get to finish because by then, everyone could feel the rumble of the earth below them. It sounded like lightning struck the ground as the mountain just beyond Encanto shook violently.

Until it stopped just as abruptly, everything going still and quiet.

What in the world is going on?!

If Alma hadn't witnessed it with her own eyes, she wasn't sure if she could have believed it.

Could it have something to do with why the candle did what it did?

Everything was silent, everything was still until Dolores gasped. Alma returned her gaze to her granddaughter. By then, all of the family had gathered around them and were waiting for her to tell them what she had heard."Someone's up there." She said.

"Are they alone?" Alma asked. Dolores took another moment to listen before shaking her head.

"No, I hear two heartbeats." She pointed to the far side of Encanto, right where the mountain had spit revealing the river on the other side, "They're somewhere over there. I think they came from the mountain that was shaking."

Alma nodded, understanding the strange expression Dolores was wearing. This situation was strange indeed. For the first time in decades, there was someone new in the Encanto. She was going to ask Dolores what else she could hear when her youngest grandson gently tugged on her dress.

"Can I help?" He asked, a hopeful tone in his voice. Light bulbs went off in all of their heads. His gift! It was perfect for this.

"Yes! Antonio, have the animals told you anything?"

"They haven't, but I can ask them!" He said enthusiastically, eager to help with his gift. As if an invisible signal went out, all of the animals in the area rushed towards him. "Does anyone know what happened on the mountain over there?" He pointed. Many of the animals responded negatively, not knowing anything as they had run away.

That was until a toucan landed on the boy's shoulder. "Pico, you say a tunnel opened?" The bird, now known as Pico, chirped more, the boy nodded along, "You saw two 'chicks' came through it? Two kids?" More chirps, and now Antonio looked worried.

He looked towards his grandmother, "Pico says there are two kids on the mountain. One of them looks about as old as Mirabeland the other was closer to my age." The boy looked really worried, a look that put the family on edge, "He said they were really thin, and had cuts all over them. He said the older one seemed ill."

Pico chirped again, some of the other toucans joining in as Antonio tilted his head in confusion.

"What did they say?" Mirabel spoke up, curious about what he'd heard.

"They said that the older one's eyes were weird, but they can't tell me more than that. I'm sorry..."

"No, cariño, you did wonderfully!" Alma praised. The boy beamed, happy to help.

But the information was alarming. All of them looked worried, and Alma was preparing to give her instructions when Dolores gasped. All eyes were on her again.

"Something just happened, let me just..." Dolores held a hand up to her ear, focusing her hearing. Not a second later did she gasp again, her expression shifting to frantic worry. "I think one of them just collapsed!" Then her expression shifted, it was a lot more somber than the panicked one just seconds ago. "They're... crying. Both of them are wailing."

Dolores had never heard such a heartbreaking sound before.

The Madrigals didn't need to hear anymore after that.

"Pepa, Felix, help Casita get the spare room ready." They nodded to Alma, heading off to get one of their spare rooms prepared. "Julieta—"

"On it, Mama." The woman replied instantly. Her motherly instincts were in overdrive, as were Pepa's. They were in complete sync with each other. The spare room was made especially for Julieta. There were times when her gift needed a bit of time to take effect, especially in the case of unconscious patients.

If they hadn't eaten in a while, feeding them a lot of food at once would do more harm than good. She had to prepare carefully, steadily getting them back to full health so her magic could properly work to heal them. For such a delicate process, they needed to be monitored and cared for around the clock, and that meant the room.

For those in fragile conditions, suddenly sending a jolt of magical healing through them had an adverse effect. It was much more effective to dilute it with healthy soup, small doses of her magic to build up the body's strength until they can handle the one-bite healing of her famous arepas. It was like this in older people, babies, and those severely ill, like now.

Alma turned her attention to her waiting grandchildren. "Get them here safely and quickly. I will explain what's happening to the people."

They all nodded as Antonio hopped on the back of his jaguar, a look of determination on his little face. "We can lead you to them, Let's go, Parce!" The large cat growled in response.

"Please be careful," Alma whispered to herself, before making her way into the town. For some reason, she felt restless, a sort of anticipation dancing on her skin and fluttering in her heart. She was worried for those poor children, hoping her grandchildren got them here safely.

She didn't understand why her heart was telling her, after so long, that something beautiful was going to happen when they returned.

And just like that, the six Madrigals grandchildren made their way up the mountain path.

To Be Continued...