I can’t keep chatting with the rest of the peeps for very long, for Mustafá is very serious about the whole ‘cleaning the house’ deal and soon her constant glare gets on my nerves. I can’t simply ignore her and tap away at my computer, at least not for too long! Eventually I give up, letting the others know that I would be busy and closing the computer before the woman walks over to me with a broom.

“Start dusting.”

“Can’t we do this with magic…?” I ask, standing up and stretching for a moment before grabbing the broom and pouting.

“Do you know how?” Mustafá stares deep into my soul. I can’t take it.

“...No…”

“There you go then. I will see to installing the security glyphs in your artifacts. It won’t do much against Blanco, but you get used to his presence.”

“Who the hell is ‘Blanco’?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Being left in the dark is always so annoying, but I guess that’s just how things go when you have a teacher like Mustafá. I… don’t really have much of a choice there either, now that I think more carefully about it. I could either accept or try to fight her again, and it was clear I couldn’t kill her in a way that mattered.

So really, I am trapped here with her now, with no real way to coax knowledge from this magician.

“Except you totally do… you have the book, she doesn’t.”

“Yeah, just don’t give her the book!”

I guess that would be a good way to keep her under control. I start slowly dusting the floor, sneezing almost immediately as I begin to throw dust on a little pan and then in the trash.

“What time is it, anyways…?” I ask aloud, while Mustafá helps me by cleaning the plates.

“Almost 11 in the night.”

“Isn’t it a little late for this!? Can’t we do this in the morning?” My frown knows no limits.

“You should have thought about that before letting the place deteriorate like this.”

Sigh. I hate that she’s right, and to be honest I am not even sleepy enough to try and knock myself out. With a grumble I continue to broom the place, soon ending up in my own room and… letting out a heavy sigh. The place is an absolute disaster, with clothes everywhere, plates, and even a few wrappers thrown around.

How did I let all this go downhill…?

Before I can start getting depressed again, Mustafá walks in behind me. I can feel my face burn with embarrassment as she takes one look at the room and shakes her head.

“I see now.”

“D-Do you…?” I don’t even dare to turn around and face her right now.

“Calm down. I am starting to understand how your brain works.”

“Poorly.”

“Yes. But not only that. I see the situation now.”

“That I am lazy and overall terrible…?”

“A little, but no. This is a classic case of Executive Dysfunction.”

“... Are you a psychologist too!?”

“I have a degree in human psychology.”

For a moment I want to call her out on that, she is totally bullshiting me here, right? Then again, Mustafá doesn’t seem like the kind of person to make jokes.

“Compartmentalize.” She says.

“Whuh?”

“You see this task as a huge, bloated conjunction of problems and that makes your brain paralyze. Because you’re an idiot.”

“H-Hey!”

“Instead of that, divide the huge task into smaller ones, and focus on them one by one ignoring the others.”

“It’s easy for you to say that. I see my room and I just see everything in shambles! And then my brain starts yelling, and–”

“Pick up the plates and the trash. Start by that, ignore the rest.”

“But—”

“Do it.”

With a pout, I decide that arguing against this person is completely pointless, and instead start doing as she says. I first pick up the plates, which she takes to the kitchen. Then I put the trash in the bag. Then I broom a bit, opening the windows and feeling the cold air in my hair…

For a moment, I look down once again.

Eight floors down…

I don’t feel as afraid as before. I don’t feel like I could suddenly slip and fall. I just… feel distant. Busy with so many things! Things I can actually do for a change!

“You’re too afraid to die anyways.”

I guess that’s true.

“You’ve taken several steps in the right direction!”

Have I? Maybe a little bit, yeah…

I can feel myself smiling, at least for a moment, before I focus once again on putting my home back into order.

I am so busy with work that I don’t even hear the main door unlocking.

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Daytime arrived at the sleepy town of Palien. A beautiful, picturesque locale, with old wooden homes and much greenery spread across the streets, all built around a humble chapel in the town square. By this point, the very first lights of the morning were lazily stretching from behind the mountains surrounding the valley. Most people, beside the breadwinners, were still sleeping… but there was a young man, sitting on a grass patch at the plaza, who did not sleep. At least, not tonight.

Small, thin and weak-looking, the young man laid on the grass while staring at the sky, feeling exhaustion upon him. He usually slept long and deep for hours on end, dreaming of many futures that could be, getting in tune with the flow of magic that traversed Jericho… but tonight, he was afraid of what he could see.

For things had been advancing much faster than Giovanni could predict or control.

“A book… forbidden knowledge, interesting enough to get Mustafá out of hiding…”

The book was related to Humiko, that much he knew from the visions in his dreams. Even with how stubborn she was, Mustafá would probably admit so if pressed! But in what way was this related to his late friend? Was she really, completely gone after the disaster in Bengala? Had a part of her spirit survived the tragedy?

Could this be a trick from someone? He could totally see Hamil pulling some manipulative strings… but the man was sealed, forever trapped in a space between the layers of Reality, never to fully manifest again. To intervene in Giovanni’s dreams, the old Archmage would need an amount of power he simply couldn’t muster, so that pretty much ruled that out.

Maybe a rogue member of the Council? Nay. They wouldn’t dare to lift a finger against him… he hoped, at least.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

So what, was he supposed to believe this truly was Humiko after so long? A part of him wanted to accept this and smile, just be happy that his friend was out there, somewhere, somehow.

But no. He needed to contain his emotional side and keep a vigilant eye, for there had been too many unusual events going on at the same time.

Between this, the upcoming Eclipse, the rumors of revolution in Bisontia, and the foreboding dreams foretelling of a bizarre and highly dangerous future? Giovanni had his hands full of things to pay attention to, made especially complicated by the fact that he couldn’t simply leave his post in Palien.

Then there was that Bastard Mage, Tav… she had no special talents, no bloodline, no access to any special sort of knowledge or wizardry of any kind. How had she become involved in this disaster in the making?

He knew Mustafá, by this point the poor bastard was either remembered or worse, lobotomized. Giovanni was quite afraid of calling and finding out. But eventually, the man had to pick up his cell phone and dial Mustafá’s number.

No answer… was she not back home already?

He then tried calling the woman’s much less used cell phone.

This time, after waiting for a moment, she did pick up.

“What do you want.” Her voice was as dry and annoyed as ever.

“Where are you? You’re not back in your workshop!” Giovanni pouted.

“I don’t have to tell you everything. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Well, her bad mood was there, so he could assume nothing bad had happened just yet.

“...Did you do it? Did you hurt her?” He finally ventured to ask.

“What did I just say? I don’t owe you any explanations, bitch.”

There was such vitriol, such hatred behind that last exclamation. Giovanni smiled a little bit. She was overcompensating… which means she was covering for an emotional act.

“Then I guess you won’t mind if I call her, just to check.”

“I would appreciate it if you left my apprentice alone.” She immediately blocked.

“Apprentice? Woah… what happened with the whole ‘No more Apprentices’ policy? Since the Exodus fiasco?”

“Did you really have to bring that back up? You just love opening old wounds.”

“I am not judging! I am not, I swear.” Giovanni said, actually not casting any judgment on his old colleague.

“Fuck you.”

“Well, I guess I have nothing to worry about. You have it all under control, after all.” The young man smiled. “I will be leaving you b–”

“Wait.”

Huh?

Mustafá never made their calls longer than they needed to be.

“Yes?” He said, actually feeling a little hopeful for a moment.

There was a sound, a door was opening.

“... I will call you later.”

Gods damn it all!

“Sure. You know you can always talk to me!” Giovanni sighed, but smiled despite the disappointment.

“Sure.”

Click.

With another even deeper sigh, the young man laid back on the grass once more. It was wet with dew, but he didn’t really mind the sensation at all. He knew the ability to perceive things was transitory, and really cherished the youth that this new body of his brought, so he always tried to enjoy every sensation that came his way… but right now, he couldn’t shake a question out of his mind.

What did Mustafá want to say just now?

And why couldn’t he shake away this foreboding feeling…?

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It took me a bit, but my room is finally clean and ready for use. I smile, proud of my little accomplishment and surprised that the mage’s method actually worked, as I grab the trash bag and walk out to the living room.

“Mustafá, it is done! I’ll just throw this out and we can start with the—.”

My eyes open and words suddenly freeze on my lips. Mustafá is right there, standing and watching deadpan as ever, but there is someone right beside her. A slender figure, smaller than me but not by much. Beautiful, black and curly hair, cinnamon skin and deep brown eyes.

Venus stands at the door frame, holding an empty backpack.

Panic, anger, fear, happiness, sadness, hope and premature disappointment, I experience it all as I just stare at her for a moment.

“...H-Hi.” That’s all I manage to blurt.

“Hey.” She says back, clearly awkward, I am not sure if it's because of my presence or Mustafá’s. “... Sorry to come all of a sudden, I didn’t know you had visitors.”

“A-Ah, well, it was a surprise for me too!” I said, stupidly. I even laugh a little bit there, damn it. “She is—”

“Leaving.” Mustafá interrupts, walking to the door and carefully passing by Venus. “Excuse me.”

“Ah, sure.” Venus nods and steps aside.

“I’ll be seeing you later Tav. Keep an eye on the messages.” The mage doesn't even turn around to look at me.

“W-Wait, but—” I try to stop her, but the door closes faster than I can say anything.

“... ‘Tav’?” Venus asks with a hint of a smile.

“Y-Yeah, it’s my… old, nickname…”

“Yes, I remember. I just hadn’t seen you using it.” She nods, before walking by me. “Excuse me. I will take some things.”

“O-Oh, sure!”

Venus looks around as she opens the door to her room and begins rummaging through her belongings, putting some old clothes and books in her backpack. Meanwhile, I continue to stand there and look around myself like an utter moron, not knowing what to do with my hands or any part of myself right now, really.

“You cleaned.” She comments. “I’m proud. Was it because of her?”

“I– W-Well, she was helping me clean actually, but—”

My phone vibrates. I immediately check the message. I don’t have the number registered, but it is pretty obvious who this is.

“Tell her anything and I will erase both of your memories.”

Saints damn it, it can never be easy now can it?

“... She’s in an upper class, was lending me some help and—”

“You’re still a terrible liar. At least that hasn’t changed about you.”

Ouch.

I feel the disdain in those words and cling to my clothes, breathing slowly, deeply. I want to run, I want to go to my room, I don’t want to see her.

But I’ve missed her so, so much.

“... Are you leaving right now?” My attempts at conversation have always been weak.

“Yes.” Venus walked out of her room, closing again. Her backpack was full. “I am going on vacation but I wanted some of the clothes I left here.”

“A-Ah…”

“Gotta run, Diego is waiting for me outside.”

“R-Right, your boyfriend…”

Why did saying that feel so bad?

“Alright then, I’ll be seeing you soon.” She says mechanically, walking over outside. “By—”

“Wait!”

I practically screamed that. She looks at me, surprised. Expecting.

“Yes?”

“Tell her that you miss her.”

“Why? So she can just brush it off like it’s nothing? She doesn’t miss us.”

“You’re assuming things.”

“I am stating the truth. Look at her, she’s well rested, energetic, smiling, the opposite of how she was when living here. She has moved on. She doesn’t need us anymore.”

My lip trembles. I feel like I will break down crying at any moment now, and I know she notices. Because she waits for me to work through it.

“Say it.”

“Don’t even bother. You’ll just make things awkward.”

…

“... Please take care, okay? I’ve heard things are dangerous in the city lately.”

She stares at me. Those eyes, they feel cold to me. All the expectation, all the anticipation she had shown before, it simply fizzes out.

“Sure.”

Without saying anything more, she leaves and closes the door behind herself. My knees are too weak, my legs wobble until I fall and just, cover my face with my hands.

Why am I such a coward? Why did I have to mess things up to this point?

There are some things that cannot be fixed, not even with all the magic in the world.

I ruined everything…

“Your past may have holes… but that doesn’t mean your future will be the same.”

“You fucked up your most beloved relationship, your situation at uni is still a mess, not to mention your relationship with your parents. How, in the fucking world, do you think we can fix it all?”

“Compartmentalize.”

I breathe slowly, deeply… soon I stop sobbing.

This problem, I think, is much different and bigger than just cleaning my room.

“Yes, but the formula is still the same. One step at a time, and we’ll get through this.”

… Can you promise that?

“I can’t. But what I can promise is that things are changing, and so far, they have changed for the better. That should be enough proof that things can be fixed yet.”

I clean my face, breathing in and out slowly, deeply, as I walk out of the apartment to take the trash out.

“Do you want things to get better?”

Yes.

“Keep dreaming.”

“Then push through. It hurts, but it will change. It will become bearable… and soon enough, it will become enjoyable.”

“This is where we tell her to shut the fuck up.”

Yes… but tonight I don’t feel like it.

Tonight I feel like actually believing it.

“Delusional.”

Maybe. But if being delusional like this is what it takes to actually change and improve? Then so be it.

After everything is clean, I just don’t have any more energy to spend on the computer. I walk to my room, turn off all the lights and then… I close my eyes.

“This road, the road to healing… it’s long. It’s hard. But keep on walking it. We’re making it out of this someday, that much I can promise.”

I can feel myself smiling, even if tears want to come out again. Slowly, I tuck myself into bed.

“I am on your side.”

…Thank you, Octavia.