After dinner and dishes, Wil tugged his floating luggage up the stairs, glad he didn’t have to carry his things to his room. The familiar creak of the stairs sounded like a song to him, and he instinctively dodged the loose step. Such a stupid, simple thing to make him happy but after this much time traveling Wil found himself just relieved his life could finally really begin.

His room hadn’t changed a bit. It was a pretty basic room. They did alright but weren’t the kind of people to buy stuff just because. Wil’s room consisted of a nice bed, a sturdy desk, and a couple of bookshelves full of adventure books and scientific guides. He pulled his bags into the center of the room and let the spell go. They dropped half a foot with a dull thud.

“This room used to be so much bigger,” he said, chuckling. Opening the desk drawer, he retrieved a battered old journal. Back before school, Wil journaled almost every day. He didn't have time for writing at school outside of his notes, and a part of him mourned the habit. Smiling, he opened up to the last entry, the attached ribbon still keeping his place years later.

This is my last entry for a while. At least until I come back next summer. I’ll have so much to talk about then! But for now, all I can really think about is…I’m kind of scared. What if I fail or wash out? Everyone’s pooled so much money to send me to Balthazar’s Academy of Magic, and I’m terrified I’m going to let everyone down. I know I have the gift, but what if I’m the worst wizard ever? I’d have to spend the rest of my life paying everyone back while they hated me forever!

I’m worried about leaving Jeb and Sarah and Mom and Dad behind. Sarah doesn’t care, she’s a menace like usual, but Jeb seems mad at me for going. I don’t know why. He’s going to inherit the farm when it’s time, and this could be a great chance for me to find something I’m good at and make everyone proud. Mom and Dad are sad to see me go, but no one’s been more supportive than them. They seem to think I can do it, so maybe I can.

Anyway, I leave in like four hours. I’m so nervous I haven’t been able to sleep! I can probably sleep on the train, and I might do that. I might stay up all night, might go for a walk and see this place for the last time. I’m going to miss it. Yeah, I think I’ll do that.

Wil hadn’t signed or dated it. He just left off there, and if memory served he did go for a walk, got back home before dawn, and got two hours of sleep before breakfast and then the long train ride towards his future. Funny enough, he’d been wrong about two things in that entry. The first was that he very much did not fail. And he could attribute that to not coming home that summer.

It was odd, being able to see the last traces of himself as a child, a completely different person at that point, and feel as if that kid’s ghost still haunted the room. Then he was gone and Wil stood there alone. He closed the journal and put it away. Maybe he’d start entries back up once he got settled in. Maybe it would be better to start a new book entirely, a new chapter in his life. Yeah, he’d start tomorrow. Tonight, he was too tired.

Wil opened his suitcases and changed into some loose sleepwear. Climbing into bed, he imagined he’d fall asleep the instant his head touched the pillow.

He didn’t.

Wil closed his eyes and snuggled into the bed, noting every lump and bad spring. The beds at the Academy had been like being swallowed by big, fluffy clouds. He rolled over and tried to relax. Three days of traveling after 6 years of hard schooling. He was back in his room, back in his home, and it was time to sleep.

No go.

Groaning, Wil sat up. He lay in the sweet spot of being brutally exhausted without feeling sleepy. Or maybe he was overtired. Either way, Wil was no stranger to insomnia and figured there was nothing to do about it just then. He fished out his slippers from his luggage and headed downstairs, creeping carefully down the stairs to keep them from groaning too loudly.

The lights were still on downstairs, which didn’t surprise him. It was still fairly early, but his parents tended to be early to bed and early to rise. All the better to get the hardest work done before the sun rose too high and made the task unbearable. Both Sarah and Jeb were probably up for another while longer, but Wil didn’t think he’d bother either of them with his problems. Especially not Jeb.

“Come on out,” his father’s voice came, hushed but projected, from the front door. Wil went outside to find his father on the porch, sitting in one of the five rocking chairs with his pipe and a jar next to him. “Having trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah,” Wil admitted, taking the rocker next to him.

“You’ve never been an easy sleeper,” said Bob, taking a puff of his pipe. The smell of the smoke prickled Wil’s nose, but he liked it. It was another familiar smell. “And a night owl. Not a great quality in a farmer, eh?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Wil shook his head with a smile. “No, but a great one for a wizard, as it turns out. There’s plenty of rituals and rites you can perform during a full moon, or with certain stars overhead.”

“Is that so? Huh.” Bob took another puff and offered the pipe to Wil.

“You sure?” Wil asked, taking it. “You’ve never let me before. You and Jeb used to smoke without me.” He brought the pipe up to his lips and inhaled. It didn’t taste like much of anything until he exhaled, and a puffy cloud of white smoke rose into the night sky. Then there came an earthy, pine flavor. Wil didn’t know a single farmer who didn’t wind down at night with some staggerleaf.

“Yeah, well, you were a kid. And it’s not like it stopped you from getting into my stash from time to time.” Bob took the pipe back and puffed, laughing at the look on Wil’s face. “You really think I didn’t know?”

Wil shrugged. “If you knew, then why didn’t you say something about it? Every single time I thought you were going to catch me and whip my ass!”

Bob chortled again, his big belly jiggling with every laugh. “When you have kids of your own you’ll understand. We know what you get up to, and we let you because it was important for a young man to explore and push boundaries. I did the same when I was your age. And…” his tone became thoughtful.

“As you showed more and more signs of having magic, I knew how stressed you were getting. Remember those headaches you’d get when you pushed yourself too hard? You’d be doing some basic magic, like making things move or setting a fire, and then it’s like ‘Oops, out of magic’ and your brain would come out your nose?”

Wil nodded.

“Well,” Bob dumped the pipe out into an old coffee can and then refilled it with some fresh staggerleaf. He handed it over to Wil. “I know you first tried it on your own to deal with those headaches. I saw how much it meant to you, and I just didn’t have the heart to stop you from getting some relief. Besides,” Bob chuckled again, “It clearly didn’t make you stupid.”

“Hah, thanks. For all of it, I mean.” He held the pipe up to his lips. Bob held out the matchbook, but Wil waved him off. It took just a small amount of power, all wizards learned to do this first. Just a tiny spark of power and the air ignited, a small flame coming out the tip of his finger. Wil puffed a couple of times and exhaled. His head swam pleasantly and he passed it back. Not all but some of his stress melted away, along with parts of his body.

“You excited about starting work as the region’s wizard?” Bob asked. “You worried? Yeah, I know you. You’re a worrier.”

“Well, how could I not be?” Wil said, staring off into space. The night was beautiful. A sea of stars twinkled down on him. He smiled, melting into the chair. “Everyone pooled together so much money to send me to school. There’s a lot of expectations on me. I’m worried I won’t live up to them.”

“Well, you won’t,” said Bob. He puffed away, smiling at the stricken look on Wil’s face. “No one ever does, least of all smart young men with ridiculously high standards. You’re not gonna be able to live up to what you hope to be. Not at first. The best thing you can do is give yourself permission to be new for a while. Let yourself learn on the job and get better.” Bob puffed and then blew out a perfect ring of smoke.

“Show off,” Wil said. He thought about what his father said. He was probably right, in all honesty, but that didn’t mean Wil’s worries weren’t still there. Though now he easily dismissed them as unimportant. His dad had some good staggerleaf. “I learned everything I can. I…I know I’m good at what I do. There were only a handful of us that made master.”

“Is that the best rank there is?”

Wil shook his head. “After that is grandmaster, mage, and archmage. I’m halfway up the list. But you don’t get to be a mage or archmage without serving in the military, typically. That’s not for me. I took the bare minimum amount of combat classes. I focused on utility and everything I could to serve the community. That’s why it took so long.”

“Don’t worry about Jeb,” said Bob. “He’s been grumpy about you for a while and it was bound to come out sooner or later. He’ll come around.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Wil said, taking the pipe again. “He seems to be really pissed at me, and I don’t blame him. But I don’t regret staying the entire time. I never would’ve learned my limits and how powerful I can be without it.” He opened himself up to the land and took one big puff of the pipe. When he blew it out he twirled the pipe’s stem in tight circles. The smoke stopped in front of him and swirled together in a tightly packed, wispy tornado.

“Hah! Show off,” Bob clapped him on the shoulder.

And then for a couple of minutes, neither of them said anything. They didn’t need to. Wil and his father had always been able to do this, just enjoying each other’s company without needing to talk endlessly. It was enough to soak in the night and feel the staggerleaf turning his legs and will to jelly. Wil started to doze and nearly jumped when Bob finally spoke up.

“You got anyone in town you’re particularly happy about seeing again?” He grinned and waggled his bushy eyebrows. “Darlene’s still in town.”

“Dad,” Wil groaned, covering his face with his hands. “That was a silly crush and that was six years ago. We’re entirely different people.”

“Yeah,” said Bob. “You’re single and a wizard. You might find yourself beating ‘em off with a stick.”

“Goodnight Dad,” Wil said, standing up and wobbling in place for a moment. He went back inside to the sound of his father’s hearty chortles. He climbed the stairs and fell into bed.

This time he did fall asleep the second his head touched the pillow.