"That's impossible," Lady Corvina said, checking her records for the third time. "According to the guest book, Sage Winterwind isn't due to arrive for another twenty years."

Yet there she stood in the lobby - a young witch with silver hair and eyes that seemed to hold starlight, clutching an acceptance letter that hadn't been written yet. Behind her, through the open door, they could see a version of their inn that looked subtly different, its architecture bearing the weight of two more decades.

"But I was invited," Sage insisted, producing the letter which was definitely signed in Pip's handwriting, though far more confident than her current style. "The Last Stop Inn's Temporal Magic Program, Class of 2044?"

"We don't have a..." Pip began, then stopped as her aunt's notebook began writing: "Some students arrive exactly when they're meant to, even if that's before they're expected."

Echo, their time-touched student, flickered into the lobby experiencing multiple moments at once. "Oh! You're early. Or late. Or right on time?" They smiled at Sage with recognition that hadn't happened yet. "Welcome to intermediate temporal theory!"

"But we don't teach temporal theory," Felix said, just as another chime announced a new arrival. This time, an elderly witch entered - her silver hair now streaked with wisdom, her starlight eyes holding decades of knowledge.

"Actually," the older Sage said, smiling at her younger self, "you do. Or you will. That's rather the point of today's lesson."

The inn creaked uncertainly as more versions of Sage began arriving - a middle-aged professor of chronomancy, a young revolutionary whose theories would transform magical education, a tired traveler who had seen too much future. Each carried the same acceptance letter, but worn by different amounts of time.

"The temporal walls are thinning," Gus warned, his stone form resonating with ancient magic. "Multiple timestreams converging on a single point of decision."

"The question is," the elderly Sage said, looking meaningfully at Pip, "are you ready to start teaching what time can really do? Because once you make this choice..." She gestured at her various selves. "Well, you can see the results."

"Before you decide," the professor version of Sage said, "you should know what happens if you don't start teaching temporal magic." She waved her hand, and suddenly they could see through windows that looked into darker futures - timelines where magical education remained rigid, where the network's evolution stagnated.

"But the responsibility," Pip protested, watching her future self through other windows teaching increasingly complex temporal theories. "Time magic is so dangerous..."

"So is any magic taught wrong," the young revolutionary Sage countered. "That's why the network chose you. Your inn already understands how to balance tradition with growth, structure with freedom."

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Echo nodded, experiencing the conversation across multiple moments simultaneously. "It's like what you taught me - time isn't a straight line to control, it's a dance to understand."

Felix played a chord that somehow caught echoes of itself from different times, creating a harmony that spanned decades. "Like music," he realized. "Each moment its own note, but part of a larger song."

"Exactly!" All versions of Sage said together, then laughed at the temporal resonance.

Lady Corvina's quill was moving frantically as the Registry revealed a hidden section about temporal education. "According to this, time magic was originally taught everywhere, but fear of paradox led to its restriction. Yet here we are, paradox free, because..."

"Because we're not trying to control it," Gus finished, his ancient knowledge harmonizing with future understanding. "We're learning to work with it, just like all other magic."

The elderly Sage smiled. "Now you're getting it. Shall we begin the first lesson? Well, technically it's the last lesson, but also the middle one, and possibly next week's..."

What followed was either the strangest or most natural class the inn had ever hosted - possibly both, given the temporal mechanics involved. The various Sages demonstrated how time magic flowed like Felix's music, built like Gus's stonework, adapted like Maya's weather, and recorded itself like Lady Corvina's chronicles.

Students from different points in the inn's timeline began appearing, drawn by the temporal resonance. Instead of fighting the paradoxes, they learned to navigate them, using Echo's natural time-shifting as a guide.

"You see?" The professor Sage explained while her younger self took notes that she remembered taking. "Time isn't about changing what was or controlling what will be. It's about understanding how all moments connect."

"Like the inn itself," Pip said, watching her future self confidently guide students through temporal theory. "It doesn't try to control where it appears, it just knows where it needs to be."

----------------------------------------

*Guest Book Entry:*

"Sage Winterwind (Ages 19, 27, 35, 42, 68, and counting): When time itself comes to learn, every signature marks not just a moment, but a possibility. May all our times flow together in understanding."

*New Verse of Felix's Inn Song:*

"When moments dance through time's deep streams

And futures flow as one,

The Last Stop Inn makes space to learn

How time's true lessons run..."

*Lady Corvina's Chronicle Entry:*

"TEMPORAL EDUCATIONAL MILESTONE ACHIEVED! First official temporal magic class established (retroactively and proactively). Note: Multiple timeline instruction requires entirely new documentation system. Additional Note: Student temporal resonance suggests natural affinity for chronomantic studies. Final Note: Must develop method for filing records that happen before they're written."

*Teaching Ledger Entry:*

"Lesson Six: Teaching isn't just about passing knowledge forward through time - it's about helping understanding flow in all directions at once."

----------------------------------------

Later, as the various Sages settled into rooms that existed in several times simultaneously, Pip found her aunt's notebook writing across multiple timelines:

"Some choices seem too big until you realize they've already been made - not by force but by necessity. Trust that you're ready. After all, you always have been and will be."

The inn hummed with new possibility as temporal magic found its place in their curriculum, neither controlled nor controlling, but flowing naturally like all true teaching should.

"Well," Felix said, playing a melody that would inspire a student decades hence while echoing a lesson centuries past, "I suppose this explains why the guest book sometimes fills itself in before guests arrive."

Through windows that looked into many times at once, they could see their little temporal magic program growing into something that would help the whole network remember how to dance with time itself.

And somewhere (and somewhen), they felt Aunt Maple's presence, watching past, present, and future weave together into exactly the pattern they were always meant to create.