There was a creak, and Felitïa opened her eyes. The bedroom door was edging open. She couldn’t sense any emotions, but her abilities often took awhile to wake up after she’d been asleep. She tried to shake off her grogginess and prepared to cast a spell.

There was only the faintest glow from embers in the fireplace to light the room and it cast shadows everywhere, but Felitïa recognised the profile in the door.

“Zandrue?” She tossed her blankets aside and leapt from the bed. “Zandrue!” She ran over to her and threw her arms around her. “Thank the gods. I was so worried you wouldn’t come back.”

Zandrue put her arms around her and hugged her. “I told you I would.”

“I know, but...”

“You didn’t trust me?” She let go of Felitïa and stepped back.

Felitïa shook her head. “No, it’s not that. Elderaan didn’t trust you.”

Zandrue shrugged. “I’m not surprised.”

“But I trust you. I was just worried something had happened to you. You said a week or two. It’s been three!”

“I did say it might be three. And it’s only been two weeks and six days.”

Felitïa rolled her eyes, though Zandrue probably couldn’t see her. She went to the fireplace, took a spill from the vase on the mantle, and held one end in the hot embers until it lit.

“I am sorry, though,” Zandrue said. “I didn’t really expect it to be this long. I just...” She sighed.

Felitïa lit a couple of candles, then turned to face Zandrue. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me about what you did, where you went?” She blew out the spill. “Sights you saw? People you met?”

Zandrue smirked. “There’s not really anything to tell.”

“There’s why...”

Zandrue shook her head. “Not that.”

“No, of course not.” Felitïa carried one of the candles over to the bedside table and used it to light the one there. Then she sat on the bed.

“I did miss you, though,” Zandrue said, walking over beside her. “And Drummor, and I suppose even the old man. I’ve been here a year now, and I guess I’ve gotten used to you all.”

Felitïa smiled. “I missed you, too. I just wish...”

Zandrue sat beside her. “If you really do trust me, then trust that I have my reasons.”

“And what about me? Don’t you trust me?”

“I do. I really do. I trust you more than anyone I’ve ever known. I mean it.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

Zandrue leaned her head on Felitïa’s shoulder. “Let’s just leave it for now, okay? Please?”

Felitïa tilted her head to touch Zandrue’s. “Fine.”

The slightest hint of relief flowed from Zandrue. “So, tell me. What did I miss?”

“New Year’s,” Felitïa said.

“How was the festival?”

“I didn’t go.”

Zandrue pulled away from Felitïa and sat up. “I hope you weren’t sulking because I wasn’t there.”

Felitïa shook her head. “No, I was just...scared. It was the one-year anniversary.”

Zandrue sighed. “Felitïa, those guys are long gone. We’ve heard nothing of them.”

“I know. It’s just, there was something about them, especially their leader. And he said it wasn’t over, and...”

Zandrue put an arm around her.

“I started having nightmares a couple weeks ago. Almost every night up to New Year’s. I haven’t had one for a couple days now, so maybe they’ve stopped, but I’m still scared.”

Zandrue hugged her tightly. “I’ll watch over you.”

“Just don’t go away again.”

Zandrue’s grip loosened, and fear and regret emanated from her. “I can’t promise that.”

Felitïa pushed her away.

“In fact, I can pretty much guarantee it will happen again. Probably once or twice a year.”

Felitïa stood up. “Whatever.”

Zandrue reached for her. “Felitïa...”

“I’ll let Elderaan know you’re back.” She stormed from the room.

* * * * *

There was no one in the showroom, so Felitïa closed her eyes. She would know as soon as anyone entered. In her head, she constructed the black walls stretching up to infinity and formed what she had just now decided to call “the Room”. She’d basically been calling it that ever since she’d first formed it, so she might as well decide that was its name. Zandrue thought she should come up with something more original, but Felitïa liked the simplicity of it.

Using the Room had done a lot for her concentration. She still had issues, but even Elderaan admitted that she’d improved.

It hadn’t done much to help her understand her telepathy though. She was starting to wonder if she would ever understand that part of herself.

A presence appeared in the Room. A customer? Possibly. Unfortunately, there was still no correlation she could recognize between a presence’s location in the Room and the person’s location in the real world—other than somewhere in the vicinity, though even there, there wasn’t a lot of consistency to the range of her abilities.

She opened her eyes.

It was Elderaan coming down the stairs. “Sleeping on the job again, I see, hmm?”

“I was not asleep,” Felitïa said. But she knew he knew that. He was just playing with her.

Elderaan chuckled. “Have I told you how proud I am of you for developing this Room thing of yours?”

She smiled. “A few times, yes, but I don’t mind if you tell me again.”

“Then I’m very proud of you. It’s done wonders for your concentration.” He reached the bottom of the stairs and came towards her. “Where’s Zandrue? I have a task for her.”

“Off with Drummor somewhere.”

“Without you?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“I had to work the shop. Besides, I’d just be in the way.”

“Oh?”

“They’ve got a thing going at the moment.” She grimaced at him. “I wouldn’t want to be there.”

Elderaan chuckled. “Do they now? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. The three of you don’t have much of a social circle to choose from. Though I’m clearly losing track of what’s happening around me. When did he stop being interested in you?”

Felitïa snorted. “You are out of touch. That would be a couple of years ago after I turned him down and Zandrue came into the picture. She’s much more receptive to that kind of thing.”

“Though she did turn you down, hmm?”

Felitïa blushed. “Yes, but that was also ages ago. I’m long over that.” That was true. Mostly.

Elderaan leaned on the counter, breathing heavily. Felitïa had noticed him doing that quite a bit recently. “When did this little thing between them start?” he asked.

“Just a couple weeks ago after she got back from her latest...trip.” Felitïa wasn’t sure what exactly to call Zandrue’s disappearances. She still wouldn’t talk about them, and Felitïa had pretty much given up trying to get her to. This had been her fifth one in the three years they’d known each other.

Elderaan grunted. “I swear, next time she tries to go on one of these...trips...I’m going to make it clear that if she leaves, she won’t be welcome back.”

“You don’t mean that, and you know it. You miss her just as much as me when she’s gone.”

Elderaan harrumphed. He hadn’t given up trying to get Zandrue to talk about her past. Every time she announced she was leaving for a while again, they would argue. Each time, their arguments got louder and more vehement. He’d always scream at Zandrue that she wasn’t welcome back.

And he always let her back.

“What did you want her for, anyway?” Felitïa asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing important. I just wanted her to pick up a few things from the market for me.”

“I can do that for you.”

“No, no. It can wait. You stay here, watch the shop and keep practising your concentration. You’re so close now, Felitïa. You’re going to be a powerful wizard.”

Felitïa smiled and lowered her head to hide her blush.

Elderaan started back for the stairs, but stopped. He turned slowly back to her. “That reminds me. Have you given any thought to what you intend to do once you’ve finished your training?”

Felitïa kept her head down and grimaced. She didn’t like to think about that. “I’ll keep working at the shop here with you.”

“Forever? What about after I’m gone?”

“Oh, let’s not talk about that. That’s a long way away.”

Elderaan straightened himself up. “It will happen eventually, Felitïa. I’m getting old.” Hints of impatience flickered from him.

“Yes, I know, but...”

“No buts! This is a serious issue that we need to discuss, and I would have thought that you knew better than to shy away from it. Now, it’s clear that you need to think about it before we discuss it, so I suggest you do so promptly. I don’t want to wait too long. Hopefully, I still have many years left to me, but there are never any guarantees, and it’s important to me to know that you’re prepared for when I’m gone. I hope I’ve made myself clear, yes, hmm?”

Felitïa nodded hurriedly. “Yes, perfectly.”

“Then continue your concentration practice. I intend to test you at our lesson later. We’ll talk about this matter in a few days.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” He smiled and relaxed, slouching over slightly. With a deep breath, he turned to the stairs.

Felitïa sat there, staring at the showroom. The Room wouldn’t form in her head. Her concentration for the moment was ruined. Over the last several years, she’d focused so much on becoming a wizard that she had rarely put any thought into what she was going to do after she accomplished it. The rare times she had thought about it, she hadn’t spent much time before pushing the thoughts aside with the idea she could think about it “another time”. But that time never came because she didn’t want to face the fact she had absolutely no idea what she wanted.

* * * * *

“It has been seventy-three years since this institution last conferred the status of wizard upon a Folith,” Madame Ezmelda announced as Felitïa knelt in front of her. “May today’s events be an indicator that the barriers between peoples can be breached. Asa, according to the testimony of Elderaan, Grand Master of Mentalism, you have been an exemplary student and are more than ready to receive this mantle.”

Elderaan hadn’t wanted this ceremony. “Just more of Ezmelda’s pomp and circumstance,” he had said. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re already a wizard and have been for at least two years. You don’t need a ceremony to say that.” Felitïa had agreed with him, but as the date had approached, she’d found herself looking forward to it, and now she was here, she was feeling quite a bit of pride and excitement.

“Over the last ten years,” Ezmelda continued, “I have watched as you have matured. I have observed your dedication to both your studies and your master.”

Felitïa did hope that Ezmelda’s speech didn’t go on long, though. The floor in the foyer of the Hall of Knowledge was both hard and cold.

“You have shown diligence and determination, intelligence and creativity, and respect for your craft and your peers. I first met Asa ten years ago when she was just an orphaned child on the streets. At the time, I would never have guessed that this girl who had the impudence to ask me to train her as a wizard would one day actually wear that mantle.”

Elderaan may not have wanted this ceremony, but Felitïa could sense how proud he was now. She couldn’t turn to look at him, but she was certain he was beaming. Drummor and Agernon were there too. Drummor had received his title just before her, and Ezmelda had talked for over twenty minutes about all the things that made Drummor the perfect wizard. As Drummor’s aunt, she knew him better than she knew Felitïa, so Felitïa hoped she wouldn’t have as much to say about her. Her knees were aching.

Yet Ezmelda kept talking—about the various times Felitïa had come to the Hall of Knowledge over the years.

There was no Zandrue though. Felitïa pushed aside the thoughts of disappointment and anger. It wasn’t good to let such feelings ruin the moment.

Zandrue had been so excited about the ceremony. For all of Elderaan’s grumpiness over it, Zandrue’s pleasure had outshone it by several degrees. She had gone with Felitïa to pick out the dress Felitïa was now wearing, had sat with her through the fittings, and had patiently listened to Felitïa practise her acceptance speech, offering suggestions and words of encouragement.

Then yesterday, she had announced that she had to go on one of her “trips”. As usual, she wouldn’t say what she was doing or where she was going. Over the last couple years, Felitïa had continued to try not to object too much.

But she couldn’t say nothing this time. Felitïa had begged her to wait one day longer before leaving, but Zandrue still refused. She had said she wished she could, but there was nothing she could do. In her defence, she had been radiating feelings of remorse. Nevertheless, Felitïa had never felt so disappointed and angry at Zandrue. After all the years they had known each other, Zandrue still wouldn’t open up about her past, and as much as Zandrue insisted that it wasn’t, Felitïa saw that as a lack of trust in her. This latest departure was, perhaps, the greatest expression of that.

“Asa, as High Steward of the Hall of Knowledge,” Ezmelda said, finally rounding up her speech, “I agree with Grand Master of Mentalism Elderaan that you are ready for the mantle of wizard, and the Council concurs.” She placed a hand on Felitïa’s forehead and began to speak in Folithan.

Felitïa had not expected this. The words Ezmelda said were something about how Felitïa being a Folith meant they should honour Folith magical traditions as well as those of the Hall of Knowledge. Felitïa didn’t even know there were any Folith magical traditions. They must have been from centuries past. It was difficult to follow the rest of what Ezmelda was saying—Felitïa hadn’t used any Folithan since her time training for the priesthood—but there was a lot of religious terminology and asking Power to bless her with the wisdom to use her skills wisely. No, that couldn’t be right—that was redundant—but there was something about blessings and wisdom.

Every time Zandrue took off, it brought back memories of when they met—and with that came the memories of the Darkers. And the nightmares.

This isn’t over, Will-Breaker.

But they had never come back, and Felitïa couldn’t help but wonder why. In the years since, Felitïa had studied up on whatever she could find about Darkers, though there wasn’t much. She had also made some effort to track down whoever Quilla was. She’d learnt that Quilla was an Eloorin name—as in an actual Eloorin from old Elooria. These days, ever since Foliths had taken over, Eloorin was more of a catch-all term for a group of cultures and ethnicities from the same general region of the continent. Regardless of the name’s origin, though, this particular Quilla could be from just about anywhere. Not in Quorge, though. Felitïa had determined that if there were any Quillas in Quorge, they were staying well hidden or going by other names.

Ezmelda finished speaking in Folithan and said, “Please stand.”

Felitïa did so, grateful to be off her knees at last. She stood close to Ezmelda as she had been instructed. Felitïa was not a short woman, but nonetheless her eyes were only level with Ezmelda’s neck.

Ezmelda placed her hands on Felitïa’s shoulders. “Asa, I hereby grant you the title of Wizard, First Class, of Mentalism. Congratulations.” She hugged Felitïa.

Another surprise. First Class? Felitïa hoped Drummor wasn’t jealous. His title was just plain Wizard of Enchantment.

Ezmelda stepped aside as Senior Librarian Pedrin came up to offer his congratulations as well, followed one-by-one by the other members of the council.

Then Felitïa turned to face her crowd of onlookers—all three of them—and give her speech. As she had known, Elderaan had a wide smile across his face. Drummor was grinning and Agernon looked impatient, but there was a hint of a smile there, too.

Felitïa had been hoping maybe Zandrue would be there, that she would have sneaked in while Felitïa was staring at the skirts of Ezmelda’s dress. But no. There was no sign of her. Felitïa sighed and started into her speech.

When she was done, she hugged Ezmelda again, then went to Elderaan and hugged him. “You should have left out the thanks to Zandrue,” he said.

“No, I really shouldn’t have.” She had considered it, but didn’t want anger getting the better of her. She turned to Drummor and hugged him. Agernon protested a little, but then let her.

“You’ve done well,” Agernon said, then walked towards the doors, his cane clacking on the stone.

“From him, that’s pretty high praise,” Drummor said.

Felitïa lent Elderaan her support as they started down the stairs outside, but he still had to stop for a rest halfway down. “If I hadn’t had to stand for that whole blasted ceremony,” he said, “I could make it all the way down.” He wrapped his white cloak around himself in agitation.

“Of course,” Felitïa humoured him. His health was not great these days and he tired out easily. Felitïa was surprised he’d made it halfway down the stairs now, especially with all the ice they had to navigate. He refused to admit his condition, though. At home, he had to struggle to climb the stairs to his room, but he refused to switch rooms with her and Zandrue. His stubbornness was going to kill him, but there was little Felitïa could do other than be there to help him when he needed it.

After several minutes, Agernon said, “Enough. Let’s move before we freeze to death.”

Agernon was older than Elderaan, but he was ageing much more gracefully. Indeed, he didn’t look much older than he had when Felitïa first met him. He had even less hair, but that was about it. Despite his bad leg, he still had no difficulty navigating these stairs without assistance. Though Felitïa could see how now. She had suspected as much, though in ten years, today was the first time she had been close enough when he’d been using them for her to confirm it. He used magic. It lifted him from step to step so that he seemed to bounce down the stairs.

“Are you ready?” Felitïa asked Elderaan.

“Hmm? Ready for what?”

“To get going.”

“What? Oh, yes, yes, of course. Well, let’s get going, hmm! Before we freeze, like Agernon says.”

Felitïa lent him her arm and helped him to his feet again. He was losing focus these days, too. Not often, but often enough to notice. The other week, during a meeting with one of his suppliers, she had had to use magic to surreptitiously boost his mental state when he had started to forget where he was. It frightened her not just because she had had to use magic on him, but also that he hadn’t noticed.

Gods, she wished Zandrue were here.