With everyone looking at me, I began to stir the contents of the big black pot and told my story.

“Nova was a maiden who had done something bad a long time ago. Ever since, she was locked in a room at the bottom of a school by the precepts,” I began, not really looking at anything. There was a spot on the rocky ground, just beneath the flickering flames that my eyes had settled on. I continued my story, trying to weave untruths around the honest core. “She has been locked down there for so long, her hair had grown over her eyes and she couldn’t remember how long it had been since she had bathed. She had been being punished for so long, she had forgotten what she had done to get in trouble in the first place.”

There had been no school and no precepts, but rather a tower and a crazed captor. The emotions felt the same regardless.

“Nova was empty. She felt nothing. She had no dreams in her mind and no hope in her heart. Anything outside of the room she had been imprisoned in did not exist and anything inside of it was temporary.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I did not want to cry. I wanted to tell the story, but the further I went along, the harder it was to keep myself under control. “The Precept would come in, seemingly at random to Nova, and bring her just enough food to not starve.”

Was that not my truth as well? For whatever reason, one that I certainly did not understand, The Lao’s had been allowed to stay. We had all been moved to a place that never rained, the weather was always perfect, a beautiful place that I would have loved to live it was not my prison. It was my food. Just enough to keep me from becoming starved.

“Something dark and unknown appeared to Nova,” I pressed on, thinking of Murk and his billowing folds. “An animate shadow of fabric as black as night.”

For the first time since I had started telling my story, I looked up to the vision my mother had formed out of the steam rising from the big black pot. The shape of a girl, with long hair covering her face completely sat aimlessly as a shapeless cloud swirled around her.

“The shadow introduced himself as Murk. He told Nova that he was to be her familiar and his first act in her service would be to rescue her from the school,” I said, skipping all of the details of the escape itself. “Murk folded himself into the shape of a giant bat and took flight off the top of the school.”

I glanced at my mother as the shapeless cloud began to take on hard lines. Sweat glistened on her forehead in the flickering fire light. Her emerald eyes were focused on the vision of my story. It could have been a trail of sweat, but I thought there was a tear leaking out of the left corner of her eye. Did she feel the pain I had felt behind my navel when I had reached my limit? The vision, the cave, the Split outside, how much power was she using to keep the illusion alive?

“Nova found herself feeling something for the first time in as long as she could remember. Just as The Precept that had punished her reached to pull her back from the edge, she jumped. Murk, who had only been a dark and mysterious stranger moments before, caught her. Free from her prison, she slept on the back of her familiar as he carried her away into the night.”

I took a deep breath and watched as the end of my half true story played out. The steam returned to steam and all was quiet in the illusory cave save for the rolling bubbling off the stew I was stirring.

“Well done, my daughter.” My mother said, giving a gentle clap after she wiped her brow on her sleeve.

Everyone clapped, everyone but Arthur.

“Nothing happened? You said a bunch of sad stuff, skipped the exciting part, and then it ended.” Arthur said bluntly.

“You really are the dumbest person I have ever met,” Anna said, looking past me and at her brother with murderous intent. “She could say nothing and it would have been better than the shit you made up.”

Arthur snorted. “My story had romance and danger. You can’t just talk about what someone’s day was like and call it a story.”

Ms. Lao cleared her throat. “I thought it was very good. Thank you for sharing it, Autumn.”

It felt strange that she spoke to me. It felt even stranger that she spoke to me in a friendly tone. The fact that she spoke to me while staring at her daughter the entire time was even stranger than that.

“You are welcome.” I said earnestly, realizing Anna was looking at me. She did not look sad, exactly, but my story had affected her in some way. I would tell her the actual story of Nova and Murk when we were alone.

My mother leaned up and took the ladle from my hand. She brought a small stone bowl up from somewhere behind the big black pot and filled it with the stew. Yawning, she offered it to Anna. “You requested that you go last. Could I ask you to allow me that placement? I am not yet ready to take my turn.”

“Oh, uhm, okay.” Anna agreed, taking the bowl and passing it to me.

“Thank you, dear. Let us all eat before we continue. Dreamtongue’s night has been long for us all.” My mother handed Anna another full bowl and then did the same for Arthur and Ms.Lao before finally serving herself.

“Mai?” She asked Ms.Lao.

“Yes?” Ms.Lao answered.

“Utensils?” My mother said.

Ms. Lao frowned. “Yes, I am sorry.”

Arthur took the spoons from his mother and passed them along as he took the last gulp of stew from his bowl. Exhaling, he reached for the ladle and took a second helping. “What kind of teacher locks a kid in a basement? I’m sorry Autumn, I don’t buy it.”

“And a knight that can fly somehow makes more sense?” Anna said, continuing to defend my story.

Arthur furrowed his brow. “We live with witches, it’s way more believable that someone could fly than a teacher would be mean enough to lock somebody in a basement.”

Anna turned to my mother. “Are there schools like that? If a maiden did something bad, would they be punished that way?”

“I am not sure,” My mother began. It could have been the low flickering light, but I thought I saw r bowl shaking in her hand. “There are hundreds of different schools of varying size and importance. I am sure it is the same on the mortal plane. I have not been to them all.”

Ms. Lao raised her finger. “Is it the same? There are elementary, middle, high schools, and college?”

“No. There a Maiden’s schools. Then there are academies for underwitches to receive training for various vocations. Each of the Mothers has their own school, but admittance is by invitation only.” My mother answered.

I finally took a spoonful of the stew. It was good and only good. The richness of the broth, the softness of the vegetables, and the tenderness of the meat were all a pale imitation of the stew Anna had given me the night we had drank together in the woods.

For a moment, I felt like I was in my little room again. Anna had only known me as Dani. Hours before, I had charmed her out of losing her mind. Days after, when I had finally come out of The Well, I had shown her myself. I had dropped my glamor and shown her it all.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Taste alone brought me back there and as Anna began to tell her story, all of my internal anguish was replaced with a singular focus on her words.

“My story doesn’t have any dragons or giant babies in it. It’s not really a story, but whatever,” Anna said, looking down at the flames licking the bottom of the big black pot. “Some girls were mean to me at school. I thought I would die if I had to stay. I made myself throw up in the bathroom so they would call Ma.”

Anna took a breath.

The steam formed into the shape of a little girl but did not go through the motions that Anna described.

So slight, I almost convinced myself I was imagining it, a trickle of colorless dust fell to the ground from the top of the cave behind my mother

When she continued, she was speaking directly to her mother. “Do you remember that? I rubbed my forehead so you would think I had a fever and everything. You knew as soon as you saw me that I wasn’t sick, didn’t you.”

Ms. Lao nodded. “Yes.”

“But you didn’t get mad. Without me saying anything, you knew something was wrong with me.” Anna said.

The steam had returned to just that, and all of our eyes were on Anna.

“Yes.” Ms. Lao said again.

A sad smile spread across Anna’s face. “You took me to that little diner in town and we had breakfast. That was the first time I had coffee, you let me get whipped cream on all of my pancakes,” she laughed a little laugh. “I think I ate like ten orders of pancakes.”

“Six.” Ms. Lao corrected her daughter, a small smile on her own face.

Anna kept going. “You took me to the bookstore, you let me get three books, we got ice cream, we went to the park, not once did you ask me why I wanted to leave school. You were just being my Ma, you know?”

Ms. Lao was silent. Cold had crept into the cave despite the flames just in front of my feet.

Anna did not wait for her to answer. “I read and ate and played. By the time we went to pick up Arthur, I couldn’t even remember what the stupid girls had said to me. I told you why wanted to leave school because you deserved to know. You were the one who had made me feel better,” Iridescent dust shifted off the stone as Anna brought herself up to her knees. “I can’t take you to a diner. I can’t take you to a bookstore or a park, but I want to make you feel better-“

“Anna.” Arthur said, his face turned to the stony mask he had worn during his duel with my mother.

“And you won’t let me! What the fuck, Ma? What are we supposed to do? Should we just pretend you aren’t sick and watch you die?”

Every angry word the left Anna’s lips sent another trail of dust streaming down from the ceiling. Her face had grown red and her hands were balled into fists so tight, her knuckles were white.

“When it is my-“ Ms. Lao began.

“Nope. That’s not going to cut it, Ma. You are choosing when it is your time and I want to know why.”

The steel that I had feared when Ms. Lao had only been my landlady appeared I her eyes. “I am sorry Idensyn. My daughter should know better than to talk like this in front of you.”

My mother didn’t respond. By the look of her, I didn’t think she could have if she wanted to.

“Ask Arthur. You like him more anyways,” Anna continued, passion pushing her words out roughly. “He is just as mad at you as I am. Aren’t you?”

Arthur stood up and streams of iridescent dust trailed off of him. I did not like the way he looked then. His face was meant for smiling and laughing, but neither seemed to be close at hand when he looked at his mother.

“I’m not mad, but you are being selfish.” The tall man said.

“Say more.” Anna demanded.

Arthur listened. “When we were home, I understood. There was nothing anyone could do. But now, Autumn’s mom could probably fix you by snapping her fingers. You won’t let her. It’s selfish.”

From the roof of the cave, a much larger stream of dust flooded down into the still steaming pot of stew. It poured down until the bubbling simmer quieted and the white steam had been choked out.

Anna and Arthur stared at their mother. My mother stared at their mother. Their mother stared at them.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of Anna. Just like the night before, it hurt me to see her hurting.

Fortunately, I had the means to stop it.

“Mother?” I said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Both of you feel this way? That I am being selfish?” Ms. Lao asked, steel in her voice.

“Yes.” The siblings said in unison.

“We still need you, Ma. You’re our Ma.” Arthur said, a trace of his usual self slipping through the mask.

“I am sorry,” Ms. Lao sighed. She placed her bowl on the rocky floor and crossed her arms. “I. . .We do not need to trouble Idensyn and Autumn with our business. We will discuss this when we go inside.”

“Nope. We’ve done enough talking inside. They both know you’re sick. They both know you won’t do anything to get better. They deserve to know why.” Anna demanded.

“Mother?” I said again. Her emerald eyes were half lidded and she sat with her arms hugging her legs tightly to her chest.

“Fine,” Ms. Lao snapped, her voice reminding me of the times that I had snuck around the boarding house just to avoid gaining her attention. “It took me months to accept that I was dying, that I would never see you get married, that I would never meet my grandchildren.”

“But you can do all of those things now?” Anna said.

“I came to terms with it. I looked forward to it.” Ms. Lao continued, her eyes hard set on her daughter.

“Why, Ma?” Arthur whispered.

“Because I miss your father! I found peace knowing that I would see him again,” Ms. Lao blurted, her face looking sad and furious simultaneously. “When you find someone that makes you feel like you were made for them, being apart hurts more than anything. Do you understand that?”

Just for a moment, Ms. Laos eyes shifted from Anna to me.

“Yes. I do.” Anna said.

“I have been selfish. I am sorry. I will let Idensyn try and heal me if we stop talking about this now.” Ms. Lao said.

All at once, the dozens of streams of dust that had started in the cave, stopped.

“Really?” Anna said, stepping over me and throwing her arms around her mother.

“Yes.” Ms. Lao said, reaching her arm out for Arthur to hug her as well.

My mother clapped just as she had done after everyone else’s stories. “Wonderful, Dear! I doubt there is a better story that will be told on this Dreamtongue’s night.”

The Lao’s ended their embrace and Anna turned to my mother. “That’s why I wanted to go last, I didn’t think I could get through it without things getting messy like that. I’m sorry I didn’t have a real story.”

“Nonsense. No story is realer than when you see it being formed with your own eyes,” My mother said, looking much more lively than she had all night. She continued speaking as she stood. “I am afraid that the one I have brought will have to wait. I have grown too tired to tell it properly.”

My favor had not been necessary. The resolution I had been planning to force, had been found somewhere in the messiness. Arthur’s mask has slipped and his natural grin had spread back across his face. Anna walked around the dust filled pot and offered her hand to me.

There were smiles all around. Our celebration was ending early. My mother looked relaxed and at ease for the first time that day.

There would be no better time.

“Mother?” I said, looking up at her from where I sat on the ground.

“Yes?” She answered pleasantly.

“I want to use my favor.” I told her.

She nodded. “Of course, what have you decided to ask of me?”

“I have thought about it greatly. I want to go down into the city. I can wear a glamor, we can go together, whatever it takes, but I want to see the real Amoranora for myself.” I said, feeing those damn bugs buzzing nervously inside me.

“Fuck yeah! I haven’t gone because I didn’t think it was fair that Autumn couldn’t. Please, Ms. Aubrey? I will keep her safe.” Arthur blurted, rapidly shifting from child like excitement to a straight backed stance.

I felt Anna’s hand rest on my shoulder. Her touch made the insects settle just a bit.

“Oh, my little Delpha, I’m sorry.” My mother answered me, tears welling in her right eye. She reached her hand out to me over the dust filled pot, but I did not take it.

“Why are you sorry?” I asked, feeling like I already knew the answer.

“I cannot let you go. The answer is no.”