(664 A.C.)
The next day came with a springtime sunrise chasing away the chill of the night. Maria sat up in her bed, stretching her stiff back, and peering down at the ground next to her. There, nestled in some spare blankets, was Wanily, still slumbering peacefully with one arm tucked under her head like a pillow. Maria had outfitted her in one of her white sleeping gowns last night, and while she was practically swimming in it, she hadn’t offered any complaint. And now, between that and the blankets–rough as they were–she appeared quite cozy.
Maria folded her hands in her lap, thinking. She had a small, old chalkboard from when her sons were young that she could use to write down the alphabet for Wanily, get her started in learning how to read. She seemed a bright enough girl and certainly a determined one–Maria had no doubt it wouldn’t take her very long to get the hang of it. Actually understanding dense texts on magic was another story, but they would cross that bridge when they came to it.
Maria would have to hammer some understanding of manners and etiquette into Wanily’s head, too. It was more than just keeping up appearances, no matter what anyone else said. Though there was some merit in good first impressions, Wanily had to understand the proper way to conduct herself. How else would she ever fit in or have anyone accept her?
Then there was the matter of potion-making. Maria couldn’t help but notice Wanily had some mixed feelings about the whole business, but potions really were quite miraculous remedies for most ailments or useful in bolstering certain abilities. Maria was certain she could warm Wanily up to potion-making–and her nimble fingers would make picking most extractory ingredients a breeze. Yes, Maria was sure she would be quite useful.
Maria couldn’t help but keep replaying their conversation yesterday. Treat me like a person, Wanily had said. But Maria was. That was the way she treated everyone–her neighbors, her late husband, her sons.
So where are they? A voice whispered in the back of her mind. If you’re really so kind and generous and loving, why aren’t they here for you?
Maria gave a quiet sigh. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like sitting around with just her thoughts for company. She swung her legs over the edge of her bed frame and rose. She tried to creep around Wanily quietly enough that she didn’t wake her, but it was a fruitless effort. Wanily woke the moment Maria took her first step, eyes shooting open and her feet halfway under her in the span of half a second. When she saw Maria, she frowned and glanced around.
“What time is it?” she groused, throwing herself back to the ground and tugging one of the blankets back over her head. Her voice was muffled by the blanket when she said, “Too early.”
Maria chuckled. “I’m sorry I woke you, dear. You’re fine if you want to go back to sleep, but I’m going to go gather some potion ingredients.”
That had Wanily back out from under the blanket in the blink of an eye. “What kind of ingredients?” she asked.
“Oh, sage, heather, rosemary–different herbs and flowers that help draw out the properties of monster parts.” Maria frowned. “Why?”
Wanily rubbed at her eyes, banishing the last dregs of sleep latched to her. “Well, it's wrong to go out hunting magical creatures. And dangerous,” she added quietly.
“Who told you it was wrong?” Maria asked, but it was obvious when she gave it more than a second’s thought. “Oh, that Andurak that helped you? He told you that it's wrong to hurt monsters, right?” Wanily nodded. “But I bet he also told you how important human life is, didn't he?” Wanily nodded again, a frown on her face. “You see the problem, don't you, dear? You say you want to help people–well, potions help people. The Wandering People value the lives of monsters so much that they won't hunt them, but they also claim that human life is more precious. So why don't they make potions?”
“I don't know.”
“It's because they're hypocrites, dear. The whole lot of them.”
Wanily frowned more deeply. “What's a hypocrite?”
“Someone that says one thing and does another.”
Wanily snorted. “They're not all like that, then,” she muttered darkly. Before Maria could comment on that, Wanily climbed to her feet, her borrowed nightgown bunching on the ground around her in rolls. She grabbed a handful of the fabric and twisted the gown around her body, back and forth. “I'll have to change into the summer clothes I have in my pack. So I can go with you.”
Maria smiled at her. Yesterday evening, she had put Wanily's fur clothing off to the side for washing later, but that would be too warm for laboring in the nearby fields anyway. It was good she had another set. “Later we can go to Hennia's shop and buy you some more clothes, too.”
Wanily gave a one-shouldered shrug and padded past Maria into the kitchen area, the night gown trailing after her in a wave. Maria huffed, just loud enough for Wanily to hear, and Wanily stopped and sighed, “Thank you.”
Maria smiled to herself and followed after Wanily. She had grabbed her clothes–plain brown trousers and a green shirt–and was shuffling back into Maria's bedroom. Maria left her to it, heading to the hearth and its dormant fire. Her hair had once been as blonde as Wanily's, reflecting the handful of very basic spells she knew. She used one of them now to light the fireplace, muttering the cantrip quietly and smiling when the kindling caught. She only knew how to make a small lick of flame, good really only for lighting fires like this, so she would still have to build it up into something useful.
She took the time to do so, and once the fire was crackling happily, she fetched a large kettle and headed for the door. Wanily was just coming out of the bedroom in clothes that actually fit her this time around and the small bit of her hair left tied back with a white ribbon into a short, lopsided ponytail. Maria clicked her tongue at her. “I'll fix your hair when I get back,” she said. “I'm just going to fetch some water from the river.”
Wanily shrugged and took a seat at Maria's kitchen table. Most of its surface was covered with crates of bottles both full and empty, but Wanily had just enough room to set her elbows on the table's top and lay her head in one hand. Maria clicked her tongue again.
“Don't put your elbows on the table,” she chided. “It's not proper.”
“For the love of Amera,” Wanily hissed, but she obediently brought her arms down to her side.
Maria could have done without the lip, but that Wanily had done as she said was enough for her. She smiled, ignoring Wanily's pout, and left for the river.
Outside, there weren't many people out yet. A few men heading down the path to the fields, and Nancy was out putting up a sign in front of her store boasting some new wares straight from the empire. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and simply waved. Nancy did not acknowledge her.
Maria stood and waited as a man passed by with a donkey. The donkey’s back and sides were laden with fine leather bags, several of them so stuffed they looked like brown frogs with throats on the brink of a ribbit. Despite each of its slow, steady steps, its eyes were bright and its tail flicked every so often behind it.
The man tipped his black hat to Maria as he passed. It was the kind of hat that appeared plain at first glance, but to the critical eye its quality became obvious. Add that to the nondescript but clearly tailored clothes on the man's body and his orange hair and the stranger made it difficult not to stare.
Still, Maria merely smiled and waved at him, too. After he passed, she stepped up to the river and dipped her kettle into the currents, ignoring the Vert fish that zipped away from her and buried themselves in the muddy bank. She stood and, discreetly as possible, glanced over her shoulder. The stranger had stopped in front of the library and was tying his donkey to a post in the entryway. Then, he pressed his hat more firmly on his head and went in.
A mage hoping to see what secrets lied in the texts of their library, then? It wasn't unheard of, but it was still rare to see such a high level mage doing something other than fighting in the war.
Maybe Maria should wait a little while to bring Wanily out–at least until this mage had moved on. Or maybe she should drop Wanily in this mage’s lap and see what he does? Maria did want to keep Wanily around to help her and keep her company, but Wanily was adamant about learning magic and Maria wasn’t heartless. She could treat Wanily like a person with her own wants and dreams and desires.
Maybe Maria should go talk to this mage. See what all the fuss was about.
She returned to her house. Wanily sat in the exact same spot Maria had left her, except she’d put her elbows on the table again and had her head in her hand. She straightened when she caught sight of Maria, her arms shooting back to her sides. Maria smiled at her and went to the fireplace, hefting the kettle up and hanging it above the fire.
“I’ll be right back, dear,” Maria said. She poured some meal into the water, grabbed a wooden ladle hanging on the hearth, and gave the pot a quick stir. She tapped the ladle against the edge of the kettle before hanging it back up. “Keep an eye on that, alright?”
“Sure.” She flicked the edge of one of the crates, clearly bored. She didn’t look up at Maria.
Maria shuffled back outside and went to the library this time, passing the mage’s donkey as she entered the building. The donkey flicked its tail at her, its wide-eyed gaze critical, but it soon turned its attention elsewhere–probably when it realized she didn’t have any food on her.
Inside, the library was much the same as any other time Maria had visited. Bookshelves lined the walls, with a couple standing in the middle of the store as well. Two small tables with lonely chairs were situated in the corners, mostly out of the way of the books. John, the old librarian, sat behind a counter to the immediate right of the entryway, a book opened in front of him. The mage stood in front of Maria, black hat in his hands, and spoke in hushed tones with John.
“I’m willing to pay quite handsomely,” the mage said. He glanced at Maria as she entered but quickly fixed his attention back on John.
John tapped one withered finger against the wooden countertop. “How much is handsomely?”
“Five hundred marks each.”
That was the empire’s currency–worth far more to traders in Oavale than their own. Maria felt her eyes widen, and even John sat up a bit straighter. He smoothed his wispy white hair back with one weathered hand in a gesture Maria knew to be a nervous habit. “You realize I have almost three dozen books on magic? That price would be–”
“More than fair,” the man cut in smoothly. “For books that no one else in the world has? Yes, myself and my employer are more than willing to pay.”
John ran a hand down his beard this time, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t understand why you would go through all the trouble,” he muttered. “But for that price? I’d be stupid to pass you up.” John placed both hands on the counter and stood from his stool. “Let me get all the books for you. I’ll be with you in a moment, Maria.”
“Oh, that’s alright,” Maria said. “I was more curious about our mage friend here than anything else.”
John nodded and stepped toward the bookshelves to begin collecting all the books they had on magic, apparently. Which was really quite unfortunate for Wanily’s situation, wasn’t it? And the day after she arrived in town, too.
But, well, there was still a mage here who had to be of a decent caliber to be sporting his hair color. She couldn’t remember the exact order of power but orange was fairly high up there, right? Better at least than green, and certainly better than Wanily’s yellow.
“Hullo, ma’am. What can I help you with?” The mage asked, placing his hat back on his head.
“I guess I was just curious,” Maria said. “What brings you to our town?”
“Here on business,” the man replied easily. “My employer is most interested in any and all books on new magic.”
“New magic?” John paused, looking over the rim of his spectacles, a stack of books his his arms. “What about what I have on old magic?”
“Ah, I should have specified,” the man said. “No, nothing on old magic, please.”
Maria knew about old magic, but she knew nothing substantial on it. How it differed from new magic, she couldn’t say, nor could she even begin to wonder why someone would be interested in one over the other.
“Who is your employer?” Maria asked. She had assumed he was here on behalf of the army, but it would make more sense if he wasn’t. If he was here looking for magical secrets for the Oavalen army, he would pay in Oavalen ren, not the marks of the empire.
“I work for General Magicks,” the man replied. “The name is Hofsvin Astra. And you are?”
He had two names? Odd. Maria wouldn’t make mention of it though. “Maria.”
The man smiled. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Maria,” he said, just as John hefted a wobbly tower of books onto the counter. Hofsvin jumped to his aid, splitting the pile in two and putting them next to each other on the counter. “Is this everything you have on new magic, then?”
John nodded. “Twenty-nine books in all.”
Hofsvin undid the knot holding his coin purse to his belt. Even though he had offered such an extravagant sum to begin with, Maria’s eyes still widened when he opened the purse and gleaming gold marks shone before her. He dutifully began counting out the pieces, each one of them worth two hundred-fifty marks.
Maria hated to interrupt him, but if she was going to talk to him about Wanily, now was the time. “So Mr. Hofsvin,” she started. He nodded to show he was listening, and Maria continued, “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for an apprentice, would you?”
Hofsvin raised one eyebrow. “An apprentice? I hate to mention a lady’s age, Maria, but you seem a little old to be looking to learn magic now.”
Maria chuckled. “Oh, not for me, sir. I recently met a young girl who is looking to learn magic. She’s staying with me for the time being.”
“Is that so?” Hofsvin slid the money across the counter. John began counting it. “I’m not too sure what to say, honestly. I wouldn’t expect you to know since you’re not a mage yourself, but apprenticeships are quickly becoming a thing of the past.”
“Oh.” Maria frowned. “So what do people do to learn magic?”
“Some schools are beginning to teach it,” Hofsvin said, watching John. “At least in the empire. What’s quickly becoming most common, though, is attending a college for magic.”
“I see,” Maria folded her hands in front of her and tapped a finger against the back of her hand. “How did you learn magic?”
“I was lucky enough that my father knew magic and taught me,” Hofsvin said. “Just as I plan to do when I have children–which may not be all that far off since my wife is pregnant right now back in Tiranda.”
“Congratulations,” Maria said, smiling. “Children truly are such a gift.” Maria ignored the pang that struck through her chest at the thought. She shook herself slightly. “But you're saying that you wouldn't take an apprentice, then?”
John nodded to himself, scooping up the money and depositing it in a small box behind the counter. The coins clattered against the wood with a sound even Maria found satisfying. John pushed the books a bit closer to Hofsvin in a clear invitation. Hofsvin nodded to him and scooped the piles up, one under each arm.
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“Could you..?” Hofsvin nodded to the door, and Maria pulled it open for him with another smile. Hofsvin stepped past her, offering a quick thanks, and headed to his donkey to begin loading its saddlebags with all his new books. “Let me think about it,” Hofsvin said once all the books were safely tucked away. “I find myself on the road a lot right now, which I'm sure you could agree might not be the best for a child.”
“Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. Wanily told me she traveled with a member of the Wandering People before she showed up here. She's already going around trying to learn magic, but I haven't the slightest clue what she thinks she's going to learn just wandering around like that.”
“The world can be a very good teacher,” Hofsvin said, tightening straps on the saddlebags. “Depending on what you're trying to learn. But like I said, I'll think about it. Where do you live?”
“Oh, just over–” Maria turned, already pointing toward her house, and stopped. Wanily sat outside the door to her house, golden eyes wide as she watched Maria and Hofsvin talk.
“Is that her?” Hofsvin asked.
Maria nodded. “Wanily! Come here!” she called, motioning her over.
Wanily held her gaze for another moment before standing and going back into the house, slamming the door so hard Maria heard it even from her distance. Maria gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth. That girl! Who did she think she was?
“I'm so sorry, Mr. Hofsvin,” Maria rushed to say. “Wanily isn't very good about respect. But I'll talk to her. She will come to see what an amazing opportunity studying under you would be.”
Hofsvin laughed. “I still haven't said yes, Maria. But I will come by before I leave tomorrow to let you know my decision. Hopefully, that girl will share whatever sentiment I come to.”
“Yes,” Maria said, frowning. “Hopefully.”
“Goodbye, then. It was a pleasure to meet you.” Hofsvin tipped his hat to her. Maria nodded back.
Hofsvin untied his donkey’s tether and began leading it back down the road toward the tavern. Maria watched him go, trying hard to tamp down the frustration she felt bubbling hot within her. What was Wanily thinking? Here was a mage–Wanily was trying to learn magic. What more did she want? Sure, she said she didn't want a teacher, but what did she expect to learn without one?
Maria huffed and headed back to her house. She took a moment to breathe deep, trying to keep her composure, before she opened the door and stepped inside.
The fire was out, but the curtains of the window against the far wall had been drawn back to let the morning sunlight in. Maria didn’t immediately spot Wanily, but she could hear rustling in the bedroom. She shuffled forward and craned her neck to peer inside. Wanily was crouched on the ground, gathering her filthy furs into a great heap in her arms. She glanced at Maria when she walked in but didn’t otherwise acknowledge her.
Maria felt her temper flare, but she stomped on the feeling quickly. “Wanily,” Maria said, very, very patiently. Wanily stood, the furs in her arms and moved to go back to the main room. Maria stepped in front of her, and Wanily scowled, angling her head back to glare at her. “The person you saw me speaking to was a mage,” she said.
“I know that.” Wanily hefted her furs a little higher. “Orange hair? Dead giveaway. Now, can you move?”
Maria took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Say ‘excuse me’ when you need to get past someone.”
Wanily rolled her eyes. “Excuse me.”
“Is that any way to treat someone?” Maria hissed. “I am trying to do right by you, but all you’ve given me is endless attitude!”
Wanily’s face fell. “What’s the point?” she asked. “People will either like me or they won’t–being polite isn’t going to change any of that.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Wanily,” Maria said. “You say you want to help others because it’s the right thing? Well, being kind to them is how you start. And being polite is a very easy way to show kindness.”
Wanily stopped, frowning, seeming to consider this. “But that’s not what you do,” she said slowly. “You’re polite to make people think you’re kind. And sometimes you actually are, but you also just want people to be kind to you.”
How did Maria explain it? “Dear, to receive kindness, you have to give kindness. It’s the main tenant of Amera–treat others the way you want to be treated. If you want love, you must give love.”
“And having good manners is how I give love?”
“It’s a way to start,” Maria said.
Wanily mulled this over for another moment. “Okay,” she said finally. Then, “But what were you doing with that mage?”
Maria smiled. “His name is Mr. Hofsvin. You want to learn magic, right? Well, I talked to him, and he said he would consider offering you an apprenticeship.”
Wanily scowled. “I don’t want an apprenticeship.”
“Could you learn to be grateful?” Maria snapped. “How do you expect to learn magic, Wanily? Hm? Just going to wander around, getting your grubby hands on any book you can? Do you really expect that to get you very far when you can’t even read?”
Wanily stared up at her. “You said you would teach me.”
“What does that matter? Hofsvin came and bought all the books in the library on magic.”
“What?”
“Well,” Maria sighed, “the ones on new magic, at least. So I would say there’s nothing left for you here. You’d be better off going with Hofsvin, if he’s agreeable to it.”
Wanily’s expression hardened. “Excuse me,” she said, quiet and even despite the way she looked like she was ready to break something.
Maria frowned and stepped aside for her. She went to her pack and began stuffing the furs into it.
“What are you doing?” Maria asked.
“Leaving,” Wanily said, terse. “I’m not going with that mage.”
“And why not?” Maria demanded. “I went to him because I was trying to help you–”
“I told you I didn’t want a teacher!” Wanily cried. She whirled on Maria, throwing the furs on the floor by her feet, forgotten. “All I asked is that you treat me like a person. And you immediately turn around and throw out everything I said about how I wanted to learn magic.”
“If you want to learn magic, you need to be realistic–”
“I am!” Wanily spat. “No mage is going to take me. Not like I am. And if they do take me in? They have a reason to do it that isn’t just to help me.” She sighed, suddenly looking defeated. “‘Cause you’re right about that. People don’t just help others for nothing.” She narrowed her eyes, glaring into the distance. “That’s why I will. I’m going to help others and ask for nothing in return. I’ll help others because it’s right.”
Wanily hadn’t even met Hofsvin and yet she was so quick to judge–but at the same time, it wasn’t like Maria was old friends with him or anything. She had no idea if Hofsvin would try to take advantage of Wanily–and Maria shuddered to think what that could look like–or if he was a perfectly honest gentleman.
And besides, isn’t this what Maria wanted? Wanily was here, saying she was perfectly content to stay and learn to read, and Maria was trying to get her to leave with a man neither of them even knew. If Wanily stayed, Maria would have someone to keep her company. Just like she wanted. And it just happened to be what Wanily wanted, too. So why was she trying to get her to leave?
Because Wanily had a dream. Maria wanted her to succeed, even if it wasn’t in Maria’s best interest. For once, she could worry about what was best for someone else for a change.
But maybe Wanily was right, too. Maria wasn’t taking into account what Wanily wanted. She didn’t want a mage to teach her? Then Maria would just have to do her best to teach Wanily to read so she could teach herself.
“Alright, alright,” Maria said, holding up her hands placatingly. “Put those furs away, dear, I’m not making you go anywhere.”
Wanily looked her up and down with a critical eye. “You’re not?”
“No. If you don’t want to go with the mage, then you can stay here and I’ll teach you, as promised. Maybe you'll still find something of use in the library–at least, you’ll be able to go somewhere that does have books on magic and read about it there.”
Wanily gaped at her. Maria resisted the urge to tell her to close her mouth. “What changed your mind?” Wanily eventually asked, frowning.
Maria sighed. “I want to treat you like a person,” she said. “Instead of someone who would owe me, or someone that I just want to think well of me.” It was the most honest Maria had probably ever been in her life. She could have asked herself why, but she already knew the answer.
She had nothing to lose. If Wanily left, Maria would just be alone again with neighbors who respected her and did nothing else.
Wanily appraised her. She must have found what she was looking for because she turned and started pulling her furs back out, tossing them over her shoulders. It was the only answer Maria received, and it was the only one she needed.
“I put the fire out,” Wanily said as she straightened. She pointed at the kettle. “The porridge is ready. Where are your bowls?”
Maria smiled and fetched two of them and two spoons from her cupboard, one for her and one for Wanily. There were still three other bowls in the cupboard, and Maria found her gaze lingering on them. One for each son off somewhere in the world, far removed from the mother that had born and raised them.
Maria hadn’t treated them the way she should have, she thought. She could do nothing about that right now, but she could treat Wanily better. Even if she wasn’t hers. Even if they would part ways as soon as Wanily knew how to read. It was better than doing the same thing she had always done–and hurting others in the process.
Wanily served them both, and they ate at Maria’s small, cluttered kitchen table in silence. Wanily practically wolfed down her food, scraping every last dreg of porridge out of the bowl and into her mouth. Maria took her time with her meal, trying not to feel increasingly uncomfortable as Wanily watched her eat with her wide, golden eyes.
When Maria was done, she collected Wanily’s bowl and spoon and put them aside for washing later. Wanily was on her feet when she turned around. “Are we still going to the fields?” she asked.
“We can if you want to, dear.” Maria grabbed her basket meant for that exact purpose–gathering ingredients from the fields.
Wanily nodded, and, after hooking their arms together, the two of them left the house and headed to the north, toward the open expanse.
----------------------------------------
Hofsvin came by later that night, after Wanily had already curled up in her nest of blankets and fallen asleep. The two of them had gotten to some good work during the day. When they got to the fields, Maria scarcely had to show Wanily what plants she wanted before Wanily was off and picking heaps of them. It seemed the Andurak fellow that helped her in the past had also taught her how to identify many different plants.
After they had picked enough for the day–Maria didn’t want to take everything that was growing, after all, and risk there being nothing left in the coming weeks–they returned to Maria’s home where Maria showed Wanily the very basics of potion-making. She knew nothing of the theory behind it, much to Wanily’s disappointment, but she was able to show her how to make a simple healing potion.
It was one of the most basic recipes. It started with a pot of boiling water. It didn’t need to be kept at the same temperature, like some potions, but only needed to be hot enough to keep it boiling. Then, the potion started with exactly one cup of slime from, well, a slime, followed by a teaspoon of dried and crushed rosemary. The rosemary had to be fine enough to pack into a spoon and not leave much air, but beyond that there was no science to how finely it had to be ground.
The slime had to be thrown in and stirred exactly eight times–full rotations around the edge of the kettle–before being immediately followed by the rosemary that had to be stirred exactly four times. Afterwards, once the liquid had settled, it had to be cooked for exactly six minutes. Any more than that and it would light on fire and eventually explode if not removed from heat.
It wasn’t much, but the whole process was enough to make Wanily’s eyes positively shine and her smile had been radiant. It was enough to warm Maria’s own heart, and it made her think that, hopefully, she had made the right decision in letting Wanily stay.
A quiet knock at the door had Maria shuffling over with a smile, and when she opened it, Hofsvin returned the expression easily. He tipped his hat at her before clasping his hands behind his back. After exchanging pleasantries, Hofsvin said, “I’ve thought long and hard about it, and I would be willing to take on Wanily as an apprentice.”
Maria grimaced. “I’m afraid she wasn’t very keen on the idea of being an apprentice.”
Hofsvin frowned sharply. “Why not?”
Maria could say that it was because Wanily was being foolish. She could say that Wanily didn’t understand how the world worked or how to be realistic about a dream. But she didn’t. “She doesn’t want a teacher.”
“Then how does she expect to learn?” Hofsvin demanded. “I’m willing to put myself out there for her, and you asked me–”
Maria held up a hand, interrupting him. “I know, and I am sorry. I wanted to do something I thought would be in Wanily’s best interests, but she was quick to remind me that she already told me she didn’t want a teacher. She plans on learning magic on her own.”
Hofsvin sighed, some of the growing tension in his shoulders collapsing in one fell swoop. “I see,” he murmured. “Well, then, let her know I wish her luck.”
“I will,” Maria said. “And thank you for the offer. I wish you and your wife and your child all the best.”
At that, Hofsvin smiled warmly. “Thank you. Goodnight, Ms. Maria.”
Maria bid him goodnight and shut the door. When she turned to begin tidying up for the night before she retired, she found Wanily peeking out from the doorway to the bedroom, still swimming in a borrowed nightgown from Maria. Maria smiled at her, and Wanily, after a moment, returned it. Neither of them said anything as Wanily went to go back to sleep, and Maria prepared some potions for selling to Nancy tomorrow morning.
When morning came, Maria brought Wanily with her as she went about town. She had Wanily carry the crate of healing potions they made yesterday while she carried the sleeping potions she made a few days ago, before Wanily had shown up. They dropped them off with Nancy, who accepted them with a patronizing smile and paid Maria a fair price for the goods. After, Maria dragged Wanily to Hennia’s shop and outfitted her with some clothes that were clean and fitting for a young lady. Mostly trousers of muted, inoffensive tones that went well with the more colorful blouses that Maria picked out. Wanily didn't complain about the chosen garments and even thanked Hennia when they bought the clothes, then Maria as they left the shop.
When they returned to Maria's house, Wanily obediently put the newly acquired clothes into a drawer Maria had cleared out in her dresser and was–surprisingly–very patient as she waited for Maria to make them a small lunch of pasta with a light tomato-based sauce. She sat silently at the table without even resting her elbows on it, watching as Maria puttered about the kitchen space.
After lunch, Wanily helped her take the dishes out and wash them. Maria gave her the scraps to toss to the Vert fish–the little buggers were burrowed in the mud with just their heads showing, gills flaring as they watched them expectantly.
Wanily peered at the bowl of scraps, poking a stem from one of the tomatoes. “I'm supposed to just... throw this in the water?”
“Have you never fed Vert fish before?” Maria asked, shocked. They were a staple of every community! And every child Maria had ever met loved them.
“I barely even know they exist,” Wanily said. “Archmage Vertrix made them, right? To end the Necroplague?”
“That's right,” Maria said. It was fairly common knowledge, enough that she wasn't surprised Wanily knew about it. “The Vert fish are very important in stopping it from coming back, and they prevent many other diseases as well.”
“Huh,” Wanily said, gazing at the fish curiously. “But... they're not magical.”
“Hm? Oh, no, they're not.” They were just ordinary animals as far as Maria was aware.
“But they were made with magic,” Wanily stressed, frowning.
“I'm not sure about the details,” Maria said, frowning in return. “I just know the plague came, it killed, Vertrix made the fish, and then the plague was over. That's all I need to know.”
Wanily hummed, clearly dissatisfied with that answer but letting the matter drop. She tossed the food scraps into the river, and the Vert fish shimmied out of the mud in a rush to gobble them up. Maria couldn't help but notice Wanily smiling at that.
Every child loved Vert fish. It was just a fact.
When Wanily had emptied the bowl, they went back to Maria’s house. Maria figured she should start making some potions to treat hay fever and other common springtime ailments–which the heather and marigold they gathered yesterday would be perfect for–but before she did any of that, she would reward Wanily’s patience. Maria had Wanily sit at the kitchen table while she went to her bedroom and rummaged around in the chest at the foot of her bed.
She smiled to herself when she found what she was looking for and came toting the items back into the main room proudly. She sat across from Wanily with the chalkboard and chalk and slowly, as neatly as her shaking hands could manage, drew the alphabet for her. Wanily watched her with her head cocked, and when Maria was done, she slid the chalkboard across the table to her.
Wanily stared down at it, excitement slowly growing in her eyes. “That’s the alphabet,” Maria said. “I figure it’s about time to start on your education, hm?”
Wanily beamed up at her. “Thank you,” she said, the most sincere Maria had ever heard her. Her gaze fell back to the chalkboard, and she traced the letters with a featherlight touch. “And... I’m sorry that I’ve been rude to you. Manners never meant much when, for so long, I’ve just been trying to survive. But I think you might be right, about how being polite is a good way to show kindness.” Wanily peeked over the edge of the chalkboard. She didn’t squirm in her seat, but Maria could just make out the uncomfortable twist of her mouth. “So, I’ll try to be better about it.”
Something warm bloomed in Maria’s chest at the earnestness in Wanily’s voice. “I’ll try to be better, too,” Maria said softly. “About abiding by what you want as well as what you need. You’re a person, just like me, and I need to recognize that.”
“Yeah,” Wanily murmured. She gazed down at her lap for a moment before shaking her head to herself. “Okay, that’s enough of that,” she announced, slapping the chalkboard back down onto the wooden tabletop with a loud clap. “It’s time to start learning!”
Maria chuckled at the way Wanily’s eyes positively gleamed with excitement. She went through each letter, tapping the tracings of chalk and telling Wanily each of their names and the sound that they made. There were a few different songs to help remember the order and the sounds, but Maria only knew of one anymore, and taught that to Wanily as well.
It was the start of something not new, but hopefully, better than the past. It hung over Maria like a shadow, the memories of this exact moment of teaching and singing with sons that had left her without so much as a glance backward. But then, Wanily’s proud, radiant smile chased the shadow away.
All at once, the world no longer felt so beautiful and empty–just beautiful. Maria’s bitterness no longer stained her thoughts and memories, leaving only a nostalgic fondness as she recalled her sons and their time together. It was like breathing in the cool, damp air on a peaceful spring morning. Perfectly refreshing. Perfect contentment.
Yes, all at once, the world was good.