It was a pretty day, regardless of the unpleasantness that Derry had introduced before. Kel leaned on the railing of the bridge and stared into the water, at the inverted world it showed him. He could see the upside down mill beside the upside-down storehouse which was across from the upside-down fields that surrounded the town, flanked on either side by stone-and-mortar walls.

 Kel's great-grandfather had started the town, unwittingly at first. When neighbors from across the river had a bad crop one year, they had been invited to live on the homestead and had eventually intermarried. Other settlements, some from across the forest, heard of the Fellow's generocity and good crops, turned to them and were absorbed as well in times of drought or rebellion. Fortune had followed his family for generations. Well, at least two of them.

“Kelvin!” Kel was jerked back to reality at the use of his name. A middle-aged woman, her face etched with smile lines, was walking toward him carrying a big pile of laundry. “Kelvin, just the boy I wanted to see. Can you help me with the washing?” The sun was nearing its zenith. Now was as good a time to stop picking herbs.

He smiled. “I’ve told you before - you can just call me Kel. Everyone else does.” In his early years, when he was in trouble, his mother had called him by his full name, as most mothers do. Kelvin Adulous Fellow learned quickly to prefer the shortened "Kel." He also preferred that to the constant reminder that his family had created the town and that he had in some way fallen from grace.

Kyleria didn’t ever look at him like the other townsfolk did though. He appreciated that. While he was generally helpful and friendly, for a boy his age at least, he especially went out of his way to help her when he could.

They settled down among the reeds, ladling water out of the river and into the wash basin. Kyleria handed him the washing board and he steadied it for her as she scrubbed. It was strange - Kelvin had always disliked washing day because you seemed to get so dirty while cleaning clothes. He would have to clean the mud off of his boots before he got back to the barn. 

“I’ve heard that you’re progressing along, young wise man." She winked and handed him the garment she had been washing to wring out and place in the clean basket. 

"Only a little. Caaron won’t let me study anything harder than a cantrip." Kel didn't mean to sound as bitter as he did, but it was a sore subject and it had come up a lot lately. 

"Well, if you don’t mind this old woman’s advice..."

"You’re not old." She was an adult, perhaps, but not old. Caaron was old, with his wrinkles and bad knee. 

"Thank you dear. If you don’t mind my advice, cantrips are just as important as anything else. They’re the backbone of magical practice. My husband always said, he never would have earned a penny slinging spells if he hadn’t learned the basics first.

Kyleria’s husband had, indeed, been something of a wizard. Before Kelvin was born, he had been a traveling sorcerer. A freelance contractor. He would do odd jobs - patching up houses with wards to keep out hungry ghosts, blessing fields to grow extra crops; he even healed people, which was the hardest magic to practice. He had met Kyleria and, in an instant, decided to settle in Fellow's Glen.  Kelvin could sort of remember what he had looked like, but he had been very young when the man unexpectedly died. It was the same as his father - he could only see a blurry outline when he remembered him, but more than anything he remembered how he smelled. Like spiced apples and something bitter he had never been able to identify. 

Kyleria never complained about his death and she never wanted for anything. Rumor was that she had an everlasting bag of gold. It would only give the owner as much as they needed, once per day, and it would only be given - never taken. There were other rumors too. Like that she still spoke with her husband. That he returned from the grave to visit with her on moonless nights. Why else was a widow so happy? At least that's what he had overheard by the small stand that served as their town's tavern one winter's eve when he was making a delivery for Caaron.

For his part, Kel knew that Kyleria was a good person who loved other people. Even some of the ones who weren't so good or deserving. And so he helped her, because he wanted to be like her. Never mind what strange rumors people wanted to spread. If he was being honest about himself, Kyleria was the only other person in town who had experienced a loss like his. Maybe that was why she was so genuine to him. 

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"I understand, but I just...I can do them all. All of the ones Caaron has taught me. But he wants me to keep practicing. Until I can do them in my sleep. And that's fine, but at this rate..."

"Gerald will have his way and you will serve in his house for a decade." She paused scrubbing, staring at him appraisingly. 

"Yes! And I'll die before that happens!" As frustrated as he had been recentlyl, Kel instantly regretted even mentioning death. 

"Well don't say that, dear." If it affected Kyleria, she didn't show it. She put a wet hand on his, patting it reassuringly. "There are always choices ahead of you. You just have to understand what the situation is and what tools you have at your disposal." She squeezed his hand and resumed scrubbing. "So tell me - what tools do you have at your disposal?"

He thought a moment. "I can create illusions, just small ones. Like a blazing fire. Or a ghost! I've done that one plenty for the Hearth festival."

Kyleria smiled.  "Of course.  "I've seen it. It's bloody good too. Although I've never seen a ghost pass wind before. I'm not sure if that part was accurate."

Kel felt his face redden. That had been over a year ago, when he found that kind of thing terribly funny.  "Errrr. that was just a joke."

"That wasn't part of the illusion?" She raised an eyebrow. 

"It's a separate spell. I can create smells. But so far I can only make bad ones." He hastily took the next wet cloth, unsure what type of garment he had grabbed, and began to wring it. 

"And what do you call it?"

Kel hesitated. it was just too embarassing. It was fine when he had actually done it for a laugh. But now? "The, er...the Phantom Fart." 

Kyleria burst out laughing. "That's amazing. The Phantom Fart. I would have found that incredibly amusing when I was a lass"

Kel was flabbergasted. It sounded like she found it plenty amusing now. Women her age usually scolded kids for such talk. 

"Tell me, did you make that yourself?" She cocked her head inquisitively. 

"Yes...but it's not that great. It doesn't even really do anything. Except it was funny when I combined it with my ghost. 

She straightened up and the laughter was still there, in her eyes.  Her face was more serious. A teacher's look. "And that is what you need to remember." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Combining what you know. Mixing your spells depending on the situation. You got an extra laugh by combining those two cantrips. Imagine what you can do with other combinations."

He went though a mental inventory of what he had learned since the old man had let him start studying the books. Aside from illusions, he could move things through the air. Granted, the heaviest thing he could carry was a brick and he could only lift it a man's height above the ground. He could magically strengthen himself so that he didn't get as tired while working. Caaron had really abused that one once Kel had learned it. There was a spell to create flame. So far though, all he could create was a candle's worth. Finally, he knew a spell that would pass a message between him and someone else. Of course, he had to be in the same room and, so far, he had to be looking at the person for them to hear it. Not very subtle and, since he wasn't really into gossip, it wasn't very useful. 

No matter how he thought about it, there weren't any combinations that Kel could see working. 

Kyleria apparently read his somewhat vacant expression. "Well, you'll just have to learn some more I suppose." She shrugged. The pile of dirty clothes had diminished significently. Looking up at the few clounds that floated across the blue sky, she shuffled. The sun was descending from its zenith. "Caaron is probably wondering where you are. I've kept you for a while now."

"But you're not done with laundry." Kel didn't want their conversation to be over just yet. Something about what Kyleria had been saying had struck a chord with him. He felt like he was onto something, like a plan, but the solution alluded him. If he just had some more time... 

"You've helped enough - I'm almost done and I have nothing else to do today. Plus all that's left are my knickers. And you don't want to help me wash those." She laughed.

Kel had to admit that he did not. He rose to leave and gave a short bow. "Thank you for your guidance, Lady Kyleria."

She grinned. "So polite. 'Lady' he says. You just call me by my name. And you are always welcome."

He was just taking the first step toward home when she spoke again. 

"Oh, by the way - be sure to have Caaron put out a ward or two - I heard the Grey Peregrine hit Ferryton last night. Made off with some very old scrolls and quite a lot of gold." 

Kel turned around, shocked. "The Grey Peregrine? Are you sure? I thought those were just stories." 

She gave him a serious look. "Stories happen all the time, young Kelvin Fellow. I doubt half of the substance is ever true, but I'm sure that the stories themselves happen."  She sighed and resumed her scrubbing. "Now run along. I don't want the wise man knocking at my door, angry because I kept his pupil too long."