"We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig in our mine the whole day throuugh…" Both vigorous and energized, Owen slammed his hammer against the jagged rock before them. It crumbled apart in a charcoaled, dusty haze. Molly coughed, waving her arms to minimize how much debris she inhaled.

"Heigh-ho," she grumbled, when they inspected the rubble only to discover the rock had contained nothing. However, there was a pontata root wedged between the rubble. She shoved it into her pocket. If Jin needed more pontata roots to make medicine for Shelly, then she would be prepared to supply it.

It was past noon and the pair - plus Finn - had been scavenging the Upper Garmon Mine the better part of the morning and early afternoon. They had shoved precious silver and gold ores into their rucksacks, but the rare ore was rare for a reason. They were still empty-handed of the invaluable, glittering azure rock that would serve as the second ingredient for healing the wizard.

Aware she was dispirited, Owen continued to sing nonsense to cheer her up. His voice was a husky, horrendous tremble; Molly was sure that his tuneless singing was the reason why they hadn't encountered any underground moles yet. She was also sure that it was him bellowing in the Brass Bar some rowdy nights. Although they weren't the closest of friends, she appreciated his presence, he was strong - with both his optimism and his muscles - and held a quiet, reassuring confidence with their successes.

"This crazy man," Finn said, exasperated, as Owen launched into another melody, "will never find his Snow White!"

Molly repeated this, omitting the word 'crazy.' Owen grinned. "Someday, my prince will come," he quoted with a deep, sweeping bow.

"You want a prince? Take Chase," she deadpanned as they approached another winding staircase.

His booming laughter echoed throughout the mines. "I couldn't even if I tried."

Her mind wandered to Chase with his mocking grin and peach coloured hair, and immediately felt guilty. The other night, when he tried to kiss her, she had pulled away. That wasn't fair to him at all. When they arrived at the next floor, Molly "pushed the thought of Chase out of her mine. She scanned the mine, disarrayed with more piles of rocks and razor sharp crystals.

"We have three more floors until we reach the top," Owen informed her.

He stepped forward, demonstrating his deft handicraft by shattering a crystal without deathly shards exploding in every direction. He was skilled, there was no doubt about it, but would they find the ore?

Three more floors. Her heart sank. Even though they had practically picked apart the Garmon Mines to the best of their ability, luck must not be on their side that day. Defeated, Molly didn't know if she would have the energy to do it all again. Despite promising the wizard she wouldn't engage herself in such strenuity, she had not forgotten how egregarious it was to work long hours in the mine.

While Owen's back was turned, she took out her frustration by kicking the nearby wall. Trembling, a release of gold sparks floated to the ground. It was such a stark, vibrant contrast against the murky environment she had been seeing all day, she blinked.

"Good god," she muttered. "Now I'm going crazy. I hope to the Harvest God we find that rare ore for the wizard."

Owen's face appeared before her, witnessing her words, soft brown eyes holding hers. To him, it must have been a distressing proclamation, because he encouragingly said, "Don't worry too much about it. How about we reach the top and take a break? There's a great view up there."

Molly paused. Then she let out a relieved smile and nodded. As they climbed to the top, Owen continue to whistle "Heigh-ho."

As they scrambled out of the Garmon Upper Mines, they were met with a deathly chill. She shivered violently, but Owen grabbed her hand and hoisted her up to the look-out point. "This is where I like to come and think sometimes," he told her. "No one comes up here. Except Calvin, and man, that guy is kind of cocky..."

"Comes up here to think?! Does he mean in the summer?" Finn asked through gritted teeth. He nestled in Molly's fuzzy hood, pulling his tangerine coloured hat over his emerald hair. His sharp breath caused the hairs of her neck to stand up.

She lifted her head and she was faced with the most breathtaking clearing she had ever encountered. For an instant, all her worries faded. From where she crouched, far from the edge of the mountain, Molly noted the crevices and dips of the valleys, the bare trees crowded together anticipating the crawling winter. She discerned the pastel houses of Harmonica Town and curve of Fugue Forest as it snaked towards the farm fields. The icy river slipped towards the pale ocean, a pacific calamity awaiting the season to freeze it over.

"Wow," she breathed. "Owen."

"I know. Not a bad place for a date," he joked.

"Have you taken Kathy here?" She wasn't completely sure if he was romantically involved with the woman who helped manage the Brass Bar, but the way his cheeks warmed confirmed her suspicions. Looked like there was someone who enjoyed Owen's rambitious singing, since she and Finn particularly did not.

He was still blushing when he admitted, "She doesn't really like how cold it is up here. I mean, would you ever take Chase here?"

She thought what would happen if she actually brought Chase to the top of Garmon Mines. He would probably be cross, shoving his shaking hands into his jacket pockets and cursing under his breath. "Probably not,"she decided, then another thought occurred to her. "If you know my friend, the wizard - he'd probably come up here."

Knowing the wizard, he would probably come up here to think as well. He would relish the comforting chill, the ambiance. He probably already had discovered the place, Molly thought, considering how many misendeavours they had.

"Yeah, the wizard," Owen said. "What's his real name anyways? I hear you're really good friends with him."

Molly shrugged. "He's kind of private. He won't tell me his name." Then she cast him a suspicious glare. "What do you mean you've heard?"

Owen waved his hand. His gloved hands leaning back against the icy rock, he casually said, "It's just stupid things you hear around the bar anyways."

Molly looked at him with a newfound curiosity. "What have people been saying?"

"Not necessarily what they have been saying," Owen said, almost hesitantly. "More like what they were saying."

She craned her head. "Tell me more," she probed.

He nodded, brushing the side of his spiky, coppery hair. "Since you were spending so much time with him, some people thought you guys were dating."

She was surprised. The air was uncomfortable, save for Finn exclaiming, "That would be so cute! I mean, if you and the wizard were dating then maybe he wouldn't have to die - I mean, technically he's immortal, right? And - "

"No," Molly murmured to both Owen and Finn. She smiled wryly at the miner. "I mean, I guess that changed once I started dating Chase." This time, the words felt strange on her tongue. It was wrong to utter them, she knew, and she was undeserving of the affection of her boyfriend. Finn's remark, however, had struck her oddly.

Before she could entertain the thought, a sudden, melodious chirp pierced the air. Alert, the trio jolted up and glanced around to see the grandeur of a majestic blue jay sweeping towards them. Instinctively, she ducked and Owen threw himself over her. However, as the bird dipped low, it continued to soar past them with a triumphant chime.

"The blue jay!" Finn screeched, twirling out of her hood into the sky. "Look, Molly, look!"

"Did the blue jay leave something?" Molly asked. Owen peeled himself off her, mumbling apologies before peering at the rock before them.

The bird had left a small souvenir: a single, blue feather, impeccable and compelling. It was mystical, captivating both Molly's breath and heart. She tore her gaze away to glance at Owen, who was equally as enthralled. They edged closer to examine it with a quiet curiosity.

"It's the blue feather!" Finn finally squealed. "Oh, Molly - you have to take it!"

"What's the blue feather again?" Molly questioned an astounded Owen. She thought of her grandmother, who would see its appearance as a mystical omen. Her grandmother would probably theorize that the feather indicated living a long, peaceful life because of how delicate it was and its vibrant colour.

He met her eyes, surprised. "You don't know what a blue feather means…?" Her silence was a sufficient answer. Then Owen moved on to explain the wonder of the blue feather, how to propose to someone you had to bestow the delicate, yet radiant object. They were extremely rare, hard to come by.

"It's yours," he said. "I don't have anyone to give this to."

"What makes you think that I have anyone to give it to?"

"Chase?"

Molly shook her head. He raised his thick eyebrows, and she quickly explained, "I think if I have it, I might do something stupid with it. Also, I wouldn't want people coming over and seeing it because I honestly don't know what would happen with me and Chase. Can you keep it?" This was an afterthought, but to her relief Owen didn't ask any questions and pocketed the blue feather.

He glanced at the sky. "I think we should turn in for the day," he said. "We've been working for eight hours, and there's no luck. We can try next week or the week after or... whenever. But both of us are too worn out to keep going."

Her shoulders slumped, but Owen was right. She was absolutely exhausted. Gathering her rucksack and her tools, she said, "Thank you for everything, Owen."

"I don't mind," he replied with a grin. "I got a lot of wonderfuls and ores I could probably redeem."

"And you got that blue feather," she added, and guilt crossed his face.

"How about this," he started. "Since we haven't really found the rare ore, this feather is yours." Before she could protest, he cut in, "I'll guard it so no one sees it and thinks you're going to propose to Chase and all that. But whenever you need it, you swing on by and claim it, okay?" Honestly, she had no intention of giving it to Chase, or anyone, for that matter.

As they scaled down the mountain, behind the crevice of a bumpy rock a glitter caught Molly's eye. Nearing the curiosity, she soon discovered what it was. Grasping the object between her freezings fingers, she brought it to the dim light. It was substantial, concealing the richness and rare preciousness they scoured the mines all day for. Its azure surface shimmering under her trembling fingertips, she breathed, "Owen," and he turned. Both of their eyes were wide and he approached her with an outstretched hand.

"Dear God," he said, almost in disbelief.

"Thank you, Harvest God," Molly said.

They had found the rare ore.


"Dear, you need a life," Yolanda said.

The wizard cocked an eyebrow. "Is there life… before… coffee…?" he questioned, raising the mug to his lips. The porcelain was smooth against his lips, but the substance lacked a sufficient amount of sugar. He grimaced and pushed the coffee away. How disappointing. He couldn't even make coffee the way he liked it. Yolanda had offered, but the wizard still clutched onto his independence.

Across the table, he could sense Yolanda was either shaking her head or glaring at him. Either way, she was unhappy with him. "Now, I'm serious, Wizard," she said. "I know that lately you've been spending your years without much company. Have you forgotten what love feels like?"

"I… should hope not…" the wizard said carefully.

Truthfully, while he hadn't forgotten what love felt like, he had forgotten how to love. Being immortal and living for centuries did that to him. He regarded her with a wary expression, waiting for what she would say next. Yolanda's aura was filled with encouragement and passion, something he had always admired about his friend.

Yolanda continued. "Maybe you could love someone, boy or girl - whatever kind of person you prefer, really..." The wizard internally smirked. He had his own fair share of experiences. Maybe one day he'd relay a mere handful of the countless stories to Yolanda, but for now, he stayed silent. "If I may ask though - why haven't you found yourself a partner?"

Partner. The wizard normally would have dismissed this rhetoric with a wave of his hand, but this time, the image of Molly surfaced his mind. She smell of her, a mix of vanilla sugar and coconut from her shampoo, or the way her gentle hand brushed against his. Even though he was blind, she seemed to brighten the room with her graceful presence, the bounce in her step. The pain he was in was equable to the soothing comfort she brought whenever she visited. She was so determined, so loyal, which he adored in someone, someone -

"Like Molly."

The wizard blinked, diverting his mismatched eyes towards the sound of Yolanda's voice. He was firm. "Love is… stupid." It wasn't something he wanted to think about, although he couldn't fight down his profuse, curious emotions as he pondered the idea of a relationship with Molly.

The elderly lady chuckled, out of disbelief. "You're scared," she remarked. "You're scared to love… Molly. But I think you love her already. "

"Ridiculous…"

She tutted. "Nonsense. You were blushing when I mentioned her, and now you're blushing all the more."

His hands flew to his rubicund cheeks. Sure enough, they were flushed. They must have been a deep shade for Yolanda to notice it with his olive skin. "Perhaps…" he mused, but he was unsure.

"All you need to do is step onto the road. You might be scared, but if you don't keep on your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." She was smiling, the wizard was sure of it. "And who else would know how to keep on their feet other than you?"

The wizard glowered at her. "Lord of the Rings references... You think... I would not... notice…?"

Despite being older by Yolanda by hundreds of years, he appreciated her unwavering wisdom and solicitude by offering her kind words and honesty. The literature of J.R.R. Tolkien did have truth, however - if he didn't try, that was closing a door to the endless possibilities that lay before him in this generation.

"All we have… to decide… is what to do… with the time.. that is given… to us…" the wizard murmured.

Yolanda laughed. "Looks like someone is an avid Tolkien fan as well."

He didn't say anything, lost in his thoughts. It was beginning to dawn upon him. All he was ever given was time itself. To him, time was tangible, stretching out before him to a future of vast nothingness, a future when he experienced everything and anything and the world lost all meaning. He dreaded that time to come, and wondered if Yolanda was right - he was afraid to love Molly. He was even afraid of the mere possibility that he could grow to love Molly.

Because realistically, nothing made sense without her.


"Good goddess, Finn," Molly said at the end of the day as she collapsed into the comfort of her sheets. After her discoveries, she was confident in their successes. As soon as the wizard was healed, she would ring the purple bell as quickly as possible. Everything was almost completed. It was worth her sore muscles, her weary eyes and the pile of wonderfuls and ores she had collected. "We have the olive oil and the rare ore and now all we need is that nautilus. Which we'll find in the winter."

"Owen's a nice guy," Finn commented, legs dangling off the edge of her bedside table. He was ruffling his green hair with his miniscule fingers. "He's different at the bar than at home, which is kind of weird but you know, he's still fun!" They had gone to Owen's place for dinner where his grandfather had roasted chicken and potatoes. It was a satisfactory ending to their day.

She tugged her duvet over her shoulders, a familiar pale pink with white polka dots. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure thing!" Finn said brightly.

Molly bit her lip. "Were you saying something how it'd be great if the wizard and I were together earlier?"

Finn blinked. Then he shook his head, sparkles shaking off his emerald hair. "I think," he said. "I kinda forget. Maybe I meant that if you kissed him, he wouldn't have to die!"

Molly didn't say anything, thinking about the blue feather in Owen's possession now. She imagined how the wizard would look holding the blue feather because she couldn't quite imagine him about to marry someone. Ultimately, Finn was right. He was immortal. That means that she wouldn't be his downfall, the cause of his death because there would be no consequence. Subsequently, perhaps the wizard wasn't even her "true love." It was a frightening thought, and she didn't want to think about it anymore. Instead of responding to Finn she buried her head into her pillow.

Before she dozed off to sleep, there was a brisk, frantic knock at the door. The farmer rose, surprised and alerted to the urgency of whoever was outside her house. Rubbing the sleep from her exhausted eyes and hurrying to the door, Molly called, "Who is it?"

Molly was met with the bloodshot eyes of Candace. Her best friend looked small and defeated, hugging her arms tightly and her tears that continued to run down them her cracked cheeks. She was shivering and sniffling, her nose running and her shoulders shaking. The tailor opened her mouth, then shut it when only a wail escaped her throat.

"Candace, what's wrong?" Molly asked. In truth, she anticipated the worst. There were no words to describe the pain written across Candace's face, the undeniable invisible blackened cloud over her head.

"Grandma," Candace croaked and Molly's suspicions were confirmed. The blue-haired collapsed into her best friend's open arms in another fit of uncontrollable sobbing. There was something wet on Molly's face. She touched it, and discovered that she, too, could not stop the flowing tears.


A/N: Hey guys - sorry I haven't updated in a while! Life has been busy with university applications and I was working the entire summer. I hope you like this update. Another one should actually be coming in a couple weeks. Thank you to everyone who has favourited, followed, and reviewed! Please keep them coming because I love hearing from you :) Happy New Year!