Something had to have gone wrong, maybe the spell hadn’t been quite right. No, that wasn’t possible; Master Jesper was the most skilled potion-maker in Ava Mara. Maybe it had something to do with the way Kismet had been clinging to him, throwing them off course somehow. Whatever the reason, they had not materialized at Master Jesper’s tower as planned. Rather, they had been dropped off in the woods half a day’s walk away.
Anger simmered within Jamil like a kettle on the stove, and he paced back and forth in the clearing they’d landed in. His nose still ached from that whatever-it-was Kismet had thrown at him, and he was beginning to wonder if this was even the right person at all. In the time since their arrival, all they had done was sit on the ground and cry. Jamil’s lip curled in a sneer as he paced faster. Master Jesper had never said anything about Kismet being a big baby! At this rate, it would be well past nightfall before they reached Mutehall!
No, that’s exactly what Master Jesper warned you about, he thought to himself, taking a deep breath and putting his anger aside. He stopped pacing and walked over to where Kismet sat. They squeaked and crawled away on their hands and knees, hiding behind a stump. Again, Jamil wondered if he had the right person.
Kneeling down beside Kismet, he studied their appearance. Tall and thin, check. Reddish hair that was more pink than red, check. Pink skin like a beeberry vine, check. They matched all of Master Jesper’s descriptors, yet they denied being Kismet. They certainly weren’t acting like someone who was of divine lineage. Were their memories intact? Could they be unaware of who they are?
“Um…wh-why are you staring at me like that?” They asked softly, their voice trembling. Jamil was surprised; he was expecting to get hit again.
“I’m just…making sure.” He stood up, offering his hand to Kismet. They did not take it, only looked up at him with wide, frightful eyes. As he watched, their eyes began to shift color, taking on a distinct red tint. Excitement ran like a spark throughout Jamil’s body. This was definitely Kismet!
“Making sure of what…?”
“Making sure you’re you.” Jamil shook his hand impatiently, trying to get Kismet to take it. They didn’t seem to notice.
“Where…is this?” Kismet asked, still making no move to stand up. Frustration began to creep up on Jamil, but he pushed it back.
“This is Ava Mara.”
“Ava…what?”
“Ava Mara.”
“What’s Ava Mara…?” The frustration pinged again but Jamil ignored it, remembering what Master Jesper had told him:
“You must be patient with them, Jamil. They have lived in a world wholly unlike our own and they will be confused, probably afraid or even angry. You must take care to guide them and reign in your temper, even if you think it is justified.”
Of course, Master Jesper was right. Master Jesper was always right. Jamil sighed and leaned down to gently grab Kismet’s arm, pulling them to their feet. He tried to arrange his naturally grouchy face into a more reassuring expression, but judging by the curious lift of Kismet’s eyebrow, he was unsuccessful.
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“Listen, Kismet—”
“Kit.”
“What?” Annoyance at being interrupted flared up, and this one was a struggle to fight down.
“My name is Kit. You keep calling me Kismet and I keep telling you my name is Kit. Not Kismet. Kit.” They were frowning hard at him, their expression so intensely angry that Jamil accepted it without further question.
“Ugh, fine! Okay, Kis—sorry, Kit. Kit, I have brought you here, to Ava Mara. We kind of…ended up in the wrong place, so we’re going to have to walk to Mutehall, okay? Think you can do that?” He tried to sound like Master Jesper, but his words came out less soothing and more agitated. Kit did not seem convinced.
“Look, just…come with me, please? We’ll go to Mutehall and my master will explain everything. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?” He searched Kit’s face for an answer but all he saw was confusion. Sighing loudly, Jamil made a ‘let’s go’ gesture with his arm and began walking, but he heard no footfalls behind him so he stopped and turned.
Kit stood like stone where he’d left them, wringing their hands and looking quite distressed. Jamil groaned and beckoned to them, but they did not move.
“Kis—I mean, Kit, let’s go. It’s gonna be nighttime before we get there as it is.” He beckoned again, and this time Kit took a few uncertain steps forward. Thoroughly exasperated now, Jamil strode over to Kit, taking hold of their wrist and pulling gently.
“Kit, come on! We don’t have time for this! I know you’re scared but we have to go so Master Jesper can talk to you!” He tried not to sound as frustrated as he was, but there was a noticeable edge to his words. It seemed to work, though, because Kit gave a tiny nod and began to walk. Finally! Jamil sighed and turned to lead the way out of the woods. Not two seconds later, Kit let out the shrillest scream he had ever heard and he nearly tripped over his own feet.
“What, what?! What is it? Why are you screaming like that?!” Whirling to face Kit, Jamil saw that they looked like they were about to lose it, eyes swimming in tears and pointing an accusatory finger at the ground.
“The grass…!” They wailed, and Jamil blinked in confusion.
“What? What about the grass?!”
“It’s BLUE!” Kit sobbed, and in that moment Jamil wished he could just send them back to their own world and find someone else to help him. His patience was running critically thin despite what Master Jesper had told him. If he didn’t rein it in soon, there could be trouble.
“Of course it is?” He shrugged, but Kit only looked more distraught.
“Grass is supposed to be GREEEN!!” They were crying for real now, big tears rolling down their cheeks, and Jamil decided that he’d had enough. He grabbed Kit’s shoulders and slapped them across the face, not terribly hard but enough to get their attention. Shocked, Kit stopped crying and opened their mouth to say something, but Jamil silenced them with a firm finger against their lips.
“Kit, I need you to listen to me. I get that you’re upset and afraid but I really need you to get it together! Now is not the time to get all worked up over what color the grass is! Please, let’s just go to Mutehall so Master Jesper can talk to you, okay? He’ll tell you everything!” Jamil studied Kit’s face closely, and after a long moment they nodded.
“Y-yeah, okay…let’s go…” Sniffling, their gaze dropped to stare at the ground. Jamil sighed and nodded back.
“Okay. Thank you.” He offered his hand to Kit but they shook their head.
“I’ll follow you.” They mumbled.
“Fine, just try to stay as close as you can, and watch your step.” Feeling a bit accomplished, Jamil began to lead the way out of the woods. As they walked, it dawned on him that he could have used the draught of truth on Kit and avoided that whole mess, but in his agitated state had forgotten he even had it.
~