My name was once Morgana Lefay, but I am now just “Granny Anna.” Let me begin this story by establishing that I am not a good person. Over the past several centuries, I’ve committed numerous atrocities and caused more than my fair share of disasters, magical, economical, and in one particularly regrettable case, both biological and geographical. Perhaps you’ve heard of Australia?

So, you can imagine my sheer shock when I woke up one morning only to find a goblin infant on my doorstep. There’s a few reasons why that was notable. First, goblins had been extinct for centuries by that point. Second, my “doorstep” is in front a magical stone tower with the only entrance directly over a sheer mountain on an “uninhabited” island just off the coast of the Arctic. To get in or out, I need to fly in! To this day, I have no earthly idea how this child ended up with me.

I don’t know why, perhaps some long-dead maternal instinct awakened in me or perhaps I was merely bored, but I decided to take this child in. Jess, as I decided to call her after a battery of tests to ensure this wasn’t some form of trap, was by no means a magical prodigy or even particularly talented. However, to tell her as much to her face would be to invite, as she would say, “a slap upside the head.”

For the first few years, things were fairly mundane. I kept the young Jess within my tower, safeguarding her from the outside world and those who would hurt her to get to me. I even cared for her, changing diapers and wiping snot like a common matron. Despite the demeaning nature of the disgusting work, it was… fulfilling. For the first time in centuries, I found someone I enjoyed being around.

However, a lot of things changed as Jess began to grow up. She began to desire these bizarre things like “friends” or “not being trapped in a tower.” A clearly frivolous idea, a danger to herself and to me. It was simply ridiculous! No sane witch at my level would allow such a thing. Unfortunately, I am hardly known for my good judgement or emotional stability. One look into her cute big eyes was all it took and she practically had me wrapped around her little finger.

“Granny Anna, how much longer do I have to wait to start school?” Jess asked me. I responded the same way I always have.

“Maybe next year,” I said. Unfortunately for me, though Jess isn’t a magical prodigy, she is still smart.

“You’ve said that every year for the past five years!” She groaned. And it was true! So far, I’d managed to squeeze by using the same excuse every time she got these foolish ideas. “I’m already nine!” She exclaimed. Goblins do mature slightly faster than humans so that would be closer to twelve or thirteen in human years. Still, thus far my massive library and the few golems I still keep active have been enough to keep us company.

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“Jessica. There are two living beings that I know of that know goblins still exist, and both of us are in this room right now. Most cultures now consider your species to be folklore!” I snapped at her. I really shouldn’t have. By now, I’ve realized I may have been a *smidge* overprotective of her for most of her early life.

“So weave an illusion! Give me some skin dye! Polymorph me! You have options, damn it!” She yelled back. Frankly, I was starting to get a little concerned about her social life given that she hasn’t had a few centuries to acclimate to the loneliness like I have. Still, tipping my hand too early would have been a problem. Back then, I’d still tried to be logical even in emotional situations like this one. Often at the cost of seeming cold or even cruel.

“And where would I get identification for you? Or how would I transport you? You’re far too young to move out permanently and I’ll not fly you over to one of these “schools” of yours and back every day like some sort of taxi driver!” I was starting to get emotional here. Generally, making Morgana Lefay feel anything stronger than a mild academic interest is an immediate cue for all bystanders to ensure they are no longer on the same continent. Still, I had a soft spot for my Jess and she knew it. Thus the argument began to slide in her favor.

“Even I can make a false identification via glamour, don’t treat me like I’m stupid. As for transportation, why not just make a Gate?”

“Jess, I know you said you were going stir crazy, but I didn’t know it was this bad!” I said half-jokingly. “A Gate, directly to my place of power?” That kind of opening was the sort my opponents would be sure to exploit, and to them it would be merciful to give my granddaughter a quick death instead of simply torturing her for information about me.

“Fine. I didn’t want to tip my hand this early, but I really will go crazy if you keep me in here much longer.” Then, with a few hand signs and a fairly powerful Word, she was gone. For a moment, I truly was not only shocked into silence, but even afraid for her. I didn’t recognize that Word. Then, she walked into the room from behind me.

“That was incredibly irresponsible and not at all relevant, but I’m very pleased you managed to learn how to shorthop at last!” I exclaimed. Shorthops, colloquially known as a “blink” are short-distance teleports typically used for short-range travel and active combat. Not as useful as a proper Traveller’s Teleport, but certainly still valuable as a beginner’s spell. Unfortunately, I did indeed live in an area with two people total. There weren’t exactly a lot of schooling opportunities, if which she was in some was need. Most of my books were archaic by the time I got them, and I could count the amount of schoolbooks I had on one hand if I had an extra four fingers on said hand. While I was thinking about all this, Jess just stood there with an entirely overly smug grin on her face.

“It’s not a shorthop,” she explained.

“You mean-“

“I do.”

My granddaughter had managed to master the Traveller’s Teleport at age nine, and even modified it to work for the least magically inclined race.