“Is that a new frock?” Mutters Arthur. “Who are you trying to impress?”

“It’s nice to see you, as well, Arthur,” I say, stepping into the shop, and draping my cloak over my arm. “I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

“Hello, Luna,” greets Lucien, stepping out from the back of the shop, and wiping his hands on his apron. “That color looks lovely on you.”

“Arthur,” I state. “Take note that that is how you’re supposed to compliment a woman.”

“I don’t see a woman here. I just see you,” he scoffs.

Lucien lightly smacks the back of Arthur’s head lightly, and Arthur glares at him.

I groan, and step into the back room. After replacing my apron with my cloak on the hook by the back door, I walk to the front of the shop as I tie back the straps.

“I see Arthur has left you with all the hard work today,” I say loudly.

“He doesn’t want to stain his hands before he meets with some girl for dinner tonight. He said it would probably keep her distracted, and she’d miss out on his handsome face.”

“I see… although he could do her that favor, or use gloves like the rest of us.”

“He said it wouldn’t be enough because his hands are too pale, and stain easily.”

“When was the last time a potion stained your hands?” I grumble.

“It’s happened a handful of times. More often to Arthur. I match the color of several potions, you’d hardly notice,” he says, holding his hands out towards me, palms up.

His hands are stained a bright green color, and we both laugh. On the small work table sits a list of ingredients to be prepared, and I set to work on them immediately.

“Mandrake root, and the berries are already boiling. I just need the starflower petals picked off, and cleaned,” he says, pushing a basket piled high with bright yellow flowers towards me, along with a rag sitting in a bucket of cold water.

“Leaving me with the worst task?”

“Of course. You’re getting paid to suffer with me.”

Lucien picks petals off flowers until they are all bare, then takes up the stems and tosses them into a tall pile by the back door. I sit across from him doing the same.

“Madam Treeleaf said she’d deal with these later,” I inform him. “I’ve been too busy to ask what they’re for.”

“She’ll most likely be separating the leaves from the stems,” he comments.

I place the petals from my hands into a bucket of water, and begin to fish several of them at a time onto the table to wipe dry.

“This is so tedious. No wonder Arthur didn’t want to do this.”

“Are you going to abandon me, too?” He eyes me over the basket.

“No, I’m not a dirty traitor like Arthur!” I shout loudly.

“I can’t hear you over the sound of my unemployment!” Shouts Arthur.

“Then why show up?”

“For your wonderful company, of course!”

The shop door rings, and Lucien and I fall silent.

“Hello, madam. What sort of potion can I get for you?”

The woman speaks so quietly, I can barely hear her. I look over at Lucien who seems focused on his work.

“Can you hear what’s going on?” I ask.

“Yes. She seems to be suffering from terrible headaches. Arthur is giving her some soothing potions, and a mild sedative to help her sleep. He’s also making an idiot of himself. I suppose she must be attractive. Oh! She seems to be married.”

I stifle a laugh. “That’s never stopped him.”

“Most people have morals.”

“Not the people he hangs out with, apparently.”

“I’m one of those people, Luna,” he scoffs.

“I’m so sorry for you, Lucien. Truly, I am. You’re too good for him.”

Lucien struggles to keep his face straight, then snickers. The woman at the front of the shop laughs.

“What happened?” I ask Lucien. “Was he actually funny?”

“I’m not sure. You were making too much noise. In any case, she paid for her things and ran off.”

“That was a real lady!” Shouts Arthur. “You should take note, Luna!”

“Oh, did she like you? I’ve heard you’re an acquired taste.”

He stomps to the back of the shop. “A what?”

“An acquired taste,” I snicker.

Lucien looks over at me, and stifles a laugh.

“The two of you are children. Always gossiping, sharing secrets, and laughing at my expense. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Goodness, he forgets his place so easily. Sorry, Your Majesty,” murmurs Lucien.

“Are you this rude to your friends? Maybe that’s why you don’t have any,” Arthur huffs at me.

“I’m her friend,” says Lucien. “Besides, you’re just pretending to be hurt. Don’t try to make Luna feel bad. You’ve been here all day, and haven’t even lifted a finger to help me. She’s just arrived, and has already accomplished more than you.”

“Fine, I’ll go out and get us lunch. I’ll even pay.”

“I’d like a meat pie and a pastry,” says Lucien, quickly.

“I would like the same,” I add.

“Whatever. Mind the front of the shop by yourselves, then.”

“He’s not going to return for hours, is he?” I ask Lucien when Arthur leaves.

“No. Probably not.”

“At least it’ll be peaceful.”

“I do like your dress. I meant it when I said the color suits you very well.”

“Thank you,” I blush. “I thought it would.”

“It’s mostly the fact that you look quite cheerful in it. Are you actually meeting someone, though? I remembered you mentioned several weeks ago that you would be seeing Marcellus.”

“I am seeing him, but I had no intention of informing Arthur of that fact,” I say, wiping clean a few more petals. “He’s going to be stopping by the city here for a few hours, and I thought I could slip out of the shop later. Do you think you could manage the shop alone this evening?”

“Of course. Arthur would never leave me here alone. I think…”

“Thank you, Lucien.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow, though.”

“You don’t really want to hear about it, do you?” I ask, placing a stack of clean petals into a glass jar, and moving on to another batch. “Besides, it’ll probably be strange. We haven’t seen each other in a while, and he’s still upset that I’ve been working with you in the shop. He also got upset that I didn't return home during Nyctara. I just don’t know why he wants to see me, honestly.”

“He probably needs to apologize, and realizes he is being unfair to you. It’s not as if he’s made any effort to see you.”

“I don’t know, honestly. Oh! I was wondering if you could put some braids in my hair. I didn’t have time to style it before I got here. I woke up late, after struggling with a few spells, trying to get ahead on my study material, but I’m absolutely hopeless.”

“You know I’ll help you, and you’re not hopeless. Why does it take you so long to ask me for help?”

“I know you’ll help, of course, but sometimes I feel like I need to do it wrong a few times before I’m given the answers. I can’t keep relying on you.”

“Alright, one second, let me wash my hands,” he grunts as he struggles to his feet. “I’m exhausted, but you can always rely on me.”

“Always?”

“Always, Luna. Just like I can always rely on you to help me in the shop.”

“Well, you’re a very good friend, then. Did Arthur really not help you at all? How could he do that to you?”

“He’s got his own problems, I imagine. Mirror Lake has ceased being a safe haven for dark elves, and he’s upset not being there to help escort them to the Grove. I think it keeps him up at night. He keeps writing letters to his father, and gets increasingly upset with each returned reply.”

“What a shame.”

“I agree. There’s no place else. I cannot wait to return home. I’m considering returning sooner, and completing my education with Master Eaimer. He has enough materials to teach me.”

“You can’t leave me here alone with Arthur, I’ll never survive,” I snicker. “Especially after you’ve promised to help me with my studies.”

There’s another feeling there beneath the dread. It’s a strange sense of sadness. He combs my hair with his fingers as I try to refocus on my task.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he laughs, and takes up a few strands of my hair to braid. “I’m not leaving that soon. I’ll remain until you’ve completed level five.”

He ties it up with a small ribbon, and holds up a silver tray so I can see myself. The ribbon has a small, flat gem hanging from it.

“What’s this?” I ask, tugging at it so I can see the gem up closer.

“A gift from Arthur.”

“I don’t want it.”

“It’s fine. We can match,” he says, pointing at his hair. He also has a gem that matches mine perfectly. “But just for today.”

“It looks much better on you, which is not helping matters.”

“You can just wear it on special occasions, if you’d like. In fact, I insist. Like today. Just take it with you so Arthur stops bothering about it.”

“Fine. Does he think we’re still friends?”

“You don’t really go out of your way to say otherwise, I’ve noticed. Besides, these little gems are typically bought for friends… at least in the Grove. But I wish he hadn’t gotten us a matching set. I told him to pick out a different color for you so it’d look like he at least tried.”

“Oh, you’re right. Am I getting used to him? Is that how he makes friends?”

“It is. You almost don’t notice you start to like him.”

“I can’t believe it’s working. I’m so upset!”

“It’s impressive, isn’t it?”

He runs his fingers through my hair one final time, separating my curls.

“I believe you’ll be alright with this?” He asks, holding the tray up again.

“Thank you,” I say, admiring my hair. “I wonder if Marcellus will notice.”

“He’d be crazy not to. Oh! Here, have a feather. It matches your dress,” he pulls one of his feathers out of his hair, and ties it around a thin strand. “Return it later.”

“Why are you giving me a feather?”

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

“It’s good luck. Consider it a late birthday present.”

“Thank you. Is this… a dark elf thing, or…?”

“It’s just a loan. aThey’re from a bird found only in the Grove that is thought to be lucky.”

“It can’t be lucky if it lost its feathers.”

“They fall off, you know. Naturally. Birds molt their feathers…?”

“I'll take that back, then. Thank you.”

When I arrive at the pub where I’m expecting to meet with Marcellus, I wait at the door nervously, and smile whenever anyone passes, so I won’t draw attention.

“Hey, Lou,” says a familiar voice.

“Marc,” I greet him, excitedly, as he approaches.

His face has grown up some; he has a full beard, and his body looks more muscular.

“Seems you’re been working hard,” I comment, tracing my eyes admiringly over his physique.

“Father has been sick. I’ve had to do more than my fair share of the work around the farm.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is he going to be okay?”

“The healer thinks so. Miss Eisley has been making potions for him nonstop. He seems to be gaining his strength. He’s getting older, though, and struggles to keep up with his work these days.”

“I suppose my parents will soon be experiencing the same.”

“You’ve got plenty of time before that happens, I’m sure. They’re both still quite spritely.”

“How have you been, though, otherwise?”

“Besides being exhausted at the end of the day, and caring for my younger brothers, I’m fine. Sarah got married. I couldn’t believe it.”

“No way! To whom?”

“Caesar.”

“I knew it!”

“Yeah, well, she was with child. Don’t tell my mother I told you that. She’s embarrassed, but it really was a true Bellehaven scandal. She’s so young.”

“Caesar is going to hate the bakery if he has to work there. Are his parents going to care for them? Aren’t they rich?”

“They disowned him. They couldn’t believe he would marry someone beneath him, but my mother wouldn’t give them an option. They agreed to her conditions so long as Sarah and Caesar never ask for money. My mother said it was perfect, because they’d both learn some sort of lesson.”

“That sounds awful. I’m glad I missed it.”

“Yeah… Come, let’s go inside. Order whatever you like.”

I sit at the table, as Marcellus tracks down a server, and orders food. I fetch drinks for the both of us in the meantime.

“Your hair looks… interesting,” he comments, tugging lightly on the feather.

“My friend said they’re from these birds considered lucky from the Grove.”

“The Grove? Are you still friends with that dark elf? You really shouldn’t associate with them. Think of what people will say about you.”

“I don’t think I’d care much about what those types of people would say about me, would you, Marcellus?” I ask irritably, as I receive my drink from a server.

“No, you’re right. I just… it’s been getting worse.”

“And you’re not helping, are you? Buying into that nonsense.”

A server drops by with a plate of bread, and drinks for our table. Marcellus gives her a quick thanks, then slumps over in his seat.

“Sorry, you’re absolutely right. How is your fr- Lucien?”

“He’s well, though he cannot walk freely outside the Academy.”

“Why?”

“People are cutting off their horns, slicing off their ears, and stealing their jewels.”

“That seems excessive.”

“Hmm, you think?”

“Well, I am sorry to hear that.”

“It’s no matter. All the incidents are being investigated, and nothing ever seems to turn up.”

“What of the elves?”

“Well, they go back to the Grove, because none of them can stay after being attacked, of course. I’m sure you’ve noticed them in Bellehaven.”

“Oh, of course. Sorry, I’ll stop… asking questions. What of your classes? Are they going well?”

“Well, the spells are obviously much more difficult as the time passes. With each new spell, I get more and more time to work on them. I could spend weeks perfecting a single spell before I can cast it. I’m lucky that Lucien is the apprentice of a skilled Mystic back at the Grove. He’s been kind enough to send me useful texts on the subject, and even has Lucien create wonderful potions for me to get me through my classes and my work at the shop.”

“You two seem very… close,” he says, as a server brings two bowls of stew, and places them before us.

“He’s a very dear friend to me, Marc. He’s been nothing but kind to me despite the wonderful first impression you made when we first met. Is there any other news from Bellehaven? From my family?”

“Yes. Um… Celestia has a boyfriend. She won’t admit it, but we’ve seen her spending time with that Edward kid.”

“Willow? Doesn’t he come from a long line of Earth-Menders?”

“A very long line.”

“Wow, that would be a first in our family. My parents will be happy to have those grandchildren.”

“Celestia would kill you if she heard you say that. She’s tired of hearing about these non-existent grandchildren.”

“Oh, good to know. I can annoy her when I visit. What about Solera?”

“I think Turner’s kid is finally going to propose to her, though I don’t think she even knows how he feels.”

“Oh, I knew it! I knew it!” I slap the table. “Remember when I told you! I knew he was in love with her!”

“Alright, alright. You were right. Quiet down, you’re drawing attention.”

“You owe me two gold coins,” I whisper.

“I can’t believe you remember that bet.”

“You were so convinced I was wrong.”

“Geez, okay. I’ll cover your food tonight, and pay you the rest when you come back for a visit.”

“Deal.”

“Your mum misses you. Especially when she’s in her garden. She starts staring off at the river and getting all sentimental, and reminiscing about the days you’d sit out there all day playing by the stream, and cover yourself in mud. Then she starts sniffling and crying.”

“Oh, she’s so embarrassing,” I roll my eyes, and laugh. “I’m sorry. Have you been helping her in her garden?”

“Not much. Celestia has. I just drop off anything we’ve harvested that my parents are giving away. You should have tasted your mother’s tomatoes this year, they were the best ones yet.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful. I can’t wait to return. I really miss all of you, but it’ll feel so strange to come back. It feels like a whole lifetime has passed.”

“I wish it was, so the ache would go away. I miss you very much, Luna.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Marc,” I scoff. “You’ve been spending more time with Abigail. My sisters told me.”

“You’re not wrong, but… Bellehaven just isn’t the same without you. I can’t wait for you to come back.”

“I… don’t know. I have many years to go, and we’ll hardly be seeing each other.”

“I’m going to wait for you, Luna.”

“O-Oh,” I mumble. “That’s okay, if you insist, but I’d prefer it if you wouldn’t… Um, are you inheriting the farm?”

“I am. We can live a peaceful life in Bellehaven,” he takes up his cup and taps it against mine.

“That’s w-wonderful… f-for you,” I say, taking a sip.

“You look shocked, and slightly disappointed,” he says, setting down his drink.

“I am. I just wonder how your brother felt about that. He was the eldest.”

“He was relieved. He wants to live in the city, but he doesn’t understand how stressful it is, does he? You must be quite eager to return to the quiet of our small town.”

“I don’t know. It’s quite lively here. You know how much I dislike the quiet.”

“I actually didn’t know that,” he looks taken aback.

“Well, I’ve been working at a potions shop, and I was thinking of remaining there, and finding a Wind-Caller to take me under their wing so I can reach level six sooner.”

“Why would you want to do that? You could find plenty of work as an adept.”

“I… want that potion, Marc.”

“The immortality potion?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“You’re going to take it?”

“I mean… I don’t know, but I’d like to have the option.”

“Why would you want to live forever? Is it because of that dark elf?” He shouts, slamming his fists on the table.

“Marc! Seriously,” I look around, smiling nervously at anyone that watches. “You’re embarrassing yourself. There’s a whole world out there to see! You think I’ll be satisfied living a simple life on a farm in Bellehaven? That’s hardly a life worth living! And that elf is still my friend, so please don’t say ‘dark elf’ like you’re muttering a curse or- or saying something disgusting!”

“Sorry… But that’s the life I want, Lou! Are you saying my life is not worth living?”

“No,” I huff, eating a spoonful of my stew, feeling embarrassed at the sudden realization. “That’s not what I meant. I just… there’s so much out there, and it terrifies me that I won’t ever have the opportunity to see it all.”

“So let’s go, and see it all together.”

I look up at him, and the anger he had is suddenly gone, replaced with a more calm and determined demeanor, but there’s a sadness that seems to weigh him down like an anchor.

“What about your father’s farm?”

“Dad has always wanted to leave it to Catherine. She’s always known more than me, and seems determined to stay around to help out, anyway.”

“I can’t make you do all that.”

“Lou, the farm, settling down, Bellehaven… it’s not worth it without you. I just want to be where you are, and if that means dragging me across the world on an adventure, I’ll go with you.”

“But… ‘Dragging’? That sounds awful, if you put it that way. What about you? That’s not the life you want to live. Clearly.”

“Just promise me we’ll settle down when we get old.”

“I’ll… think about it.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

“Very well, but this matter isn’t settled,” I sigh, defeatedly.

“I know,” he grumbles. “But for now, let’s just enjoy our time together. I haven’t seen you in nine months.”

“You counted. I’m mildly impressed.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s been nine months since sweet potato season. My brain keeps track of the seasons very well.”

“And why are you thinking of sweet potatoes?”

“Cause it’s… the last basket of vegetables I gave you before you left,” he pauses. “Fine. I remember, but can you blame me? I’m looking right at you.”

“It’s alright, I’m just teasing you. I missed you, too. I’m sorry I haven’t written as much. I’ve been busy.”

“I know. I hardly have time to write back, myself. Your family and mine spend time taking turns updating each other about you. Everything you do is the latest news.”

“Oh, goodness, that’s so embarrassing. Don’t you have better things to talk about? Although, now that you’ve mentioned it, I do the same to Lucien. I keep him updated on all of your lives, I must bore him to tears. He always remembers everything I tell him, and even remembers things I’ve forgotten, when I start repeating myself.”

“He must find our lives dull.”

“Not at all. He finds it endearing. He longs to return home to Dark Grove to live a simple life as a healer for the dark elves returning home, and tend to Master Eaimer’s garden.”

“So, if he’s not putting thoughts of great adventures in your head, is it Arthur?”

“No,” I scoff. “I want a life of adventure because I just do. You know that.”

“Of course. Sorry.”

“I think the first step of my journey will be to meet Master Eaimer, and thank him for all of his help. He’s an excellent instructor, even if he is just writing to me.”

“What would be the point?”

“Well, I’d like to connect the name to a face, and I don’t know… he feels like a good friend, and seems very kind and patient. He reminds me of how my mother described my grandfather.”

“That does seem like a good place to start, then… I suppose…. For now.”

After a long night, Marcellus and I go our separate ways. I wander outside the city walls and stare up at the stars, my feet guiding me towards the falls where Lucien and I spent the night hiding away from the thunderstorm. I arrive there in record time, and pull my cloak tightly around me to protect myself from the spray of the cascading falls. The sound of the rushing waters, and its reverberations through the cave, serve to drown out the sounds of my thoughts.

“Luna?”

“Lucien?” I search around frantically, and spot him approaching me. “What on earth are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“I saw you leave the city. I called out to you, but you were daydreaming again, weren’t you? Are you alright?”

I collapse to the ground, and lean against the wall of the cave. Lucien rushes to my side in a panic.

“Are you sick? What happened?”

“I had a… stressful meeting with Marc. I’m… lost. I feel lost. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be anymore. I don’t know what I should want from this life. I thought I did, but I find myself not wanting to look back… to go back. I don’t want to go back, because I think I’ll be trapped, Lucien.”

“So you wandered into a cave to hide for the evening?”

“I needed to clear my head. The noise from the falls… It makes me feel like I’m…”

“Drowning?”

“No,” I laugh. “I just needed noise. I need my thoughts to be drowned out, and pushed out of my head.”

“This is serious,” he says, taking a seat next to me. “Can I help you? It sounds to me like you don’t enjoy thinking about your problems.”

“Nobody does.”

“No, but you’re trying to run away from them by keeping your mind occupied. What happened, Luna? Truly. You can talk to me, you know. I have big enough ears for listening,” he smirks, and makes his ears wiggle.

“Marcellus seemed upset that I plan to take the immortality potion, because I guess he sees us growing old together, and he won’t have that option. I told him he’s free to be with someone else, and he said his life isn’t worth living if I’m not there with him.”

“That’s a bit dramatic. He’s putting too much pressure on you, and too much emphasis on his own happiness.”

“He even promised he’d go and see the world with me if that’s what I want, as long as we can settle down when we get older.”

“Marcellus expects much from you, it seems. What is it that you want? Did he ask you?”

“I suppose. He knows what I want.”

“What do you want, Luna?”

“I want to live the life of an immortal. To choose when my life ends. I want to see the whole world at my leisure. I want to travel to the stars. I want to be released from this anchor, this mortal life, where time seems such a scarce commodity.”

“Now who’s being dramatic?”

“Shut up,” I laugh.

He wipes a tear off my cheek, and settles down at my side.

“So, why don’t you just do that?” He asks, taking my hand in his.

“I don’t want to do all of that alone.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have to, if that’s what you chose, and I’m also sure you’ll find someone to join you, if you just ask. Besides… I’d follow you anywhere, Luna.”

“You say that, but I don’t believe you. Could I visit you in the Grove when you’re settled there? With your big house, and your family with Lumaria.”

“…Nothing would make me happier. Why don’t we return to the city?”

“Can we go see the stars instead? Not the whole night, but… just for a while.”

“Would it help you?”

“Possibly.”

“And you’ll help me write two hundred potion labels tomorrow?”

“Two hundred?”

“I was delayed because of you.”

“You can go back. I didn’t know you were still busy.”

“Luna, I can’t leave you here like this.”

“Oh, but you could. I’ll survive.”

“I could, but it wouldn’t sit well with me. You’re very good at wandering off when you daydream.”

“Daydreaming is my problem to deal with. Your concern is your own.”

“They’re our problems, now, friend.”