Maybe my stubbornness does have a place in my life, Mother. Norwyn tolerates it, but I can tell he does not do so gladly. Because he has no stubbornness himself, however, he has lost his bravery. I love him, but I want to be the one to advise him for a change. Age does not make one infallible.
"""
Winter break arrived, bringing with it long days of quiet relaxation before heading back to the academy for the second semester of school. Light Spinner sighed as she poured tea into one of her mugs, sitting down in her old armchair and watching Micah play with the other students in the evening snow out in the rose garden. He was her student. She was his teacher. The thought had almost become commonplace; now she was thinking these words with a smile. He's my student. I get to spend my days with him.
Light Spinner pulled out the journal from inside the end table, lifting her veil to sip her tea. The sweet herbs she'd brewed danced on her tongue, as she opened the old book to write with a smile.
Mother,
You were right, as always. There was more to Micah than I'd first seen; he is never intentionally disruptive of my class. You would love him so much, for you have the same goofiness, the same optimism and bright eyes. I now have more wisdom. Not only have I learned how to deal with unruly students, I have begun to ponder that perhaps denying myself of feeling for any one person is why I am so hollow and numb to begin with. I will give this new idea much thought in the future. Perhaps not everyone will leave me, as Nell once did.
Just as she finished signing the closing, Micah burst in through the door. Light Spinner walked over to him. "Drink some tea. It'll keep you from getting sick."
Micah gave a slow nod, blowing his red nose with a tissue. "Why didn't you come out to play today?"
Light Spinner laced her fingers together sheepishly. "I was preoccupied - writing some letters."
"You were keeping your diary, you mean," Micah said as he poured a cup of tea and sipped it. Light Spinner stared at the ground, memories shocking her out of the present day.
Mother's hand moved gently over Alura's as she poured the boiling water over the packages of dried peaches. "You're doing great!" she said. "I'm so proud of you."
"Why? All I did was make tea."
"Yes, but this is one small step," Lydia said. "One small step to what you will learn. We're going to do such great things together, sweet Alura."
Light Spinner clutched the edge of the couch. Steady now. Micah's voice came to her, sounding far away. "You okay?"
She snapped back to reality. "Yes. I'm...fine." The pain in her chest refused to leave. "It's not a diary, Micah. I told you that already."
"Yeah, but you didn't tell me what it was. Last time I asked, you just said it wasn't a diary - "
"- Because it isn't -"
"- But it looks like a diary, so I'm going to call it that anyway," Micah said, downing a big gulp of tea. "Unless you tell me what it is."
Light Spinner shifted on her feet. There's no harm in telling. He won't blab. Micah's not like that. His dark eyes looked at her in a way that nobody since Lydia had. With care - true care, no borders or strings attached.
Lydia. Light Spinner zoned out. "They're letters," she said. "Letters to...to..."
"Who?" Micah asked. "I'll keep it a secret."
Light Spinner scrunched her eyes shut, and two words were her answer. "My mother."
She'd expected Micah to either laugh or comfort her, but instead, he tilted his head. "Well, are you ever going to send them to her?"
Light Spinner's hand combusted in flame, and her eyes blurred with unshed tears. No crying. Please, anything but crying. She extinguished the plasma and gripped the couch, her nails digging into the fabric. "Maybe someday," she lied. But she could never deliver the letters. There was no address to send them to, because Lydia no longer lived at the quiet townhome in Bel Delvala.
Micah touched her hand. "It's okay," he said. "I miss my mom too. But maybe if you sent those letters to your mom, you could catch up." A pause. "If you haven't left Mystacor since you were fourteen, she probably misses you."
Light Spinner bit her tongue. She had to control her tears. "Go to bed, Micah."
He backed up. "I'm sorry if I - "
Her voice twisted, crystallizing as she turned to him. "I said, go to bed," she repeated through her teeth. He backed away, his expression confused, eyebrows knit together with concern. After he left, Light Spinner took deep breaths, counting the seconds, pacing the room. But the tears refused to cease.
Mother, I wish I could take his advice. I wish I could send my letters to you.
I miss you so, so much. You would love him dearly. She imagined Lydia baking cookies for Micah, singing him old Delvalian songs from the time they were their own kingdom, telling him stories...
She sat on the couch, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. She was disgusted with herself for being this much of a mess; she might destroy the living room with her powers. She should have never let Micah see that she wrote at all.
A hand rested on her shoulder, and when she looked up, he was there. His sweet, dark eyes would be there to witness her weakness. Of course they would. "Why are you still here?" she sniffed, her voice more confused than angry. "I told you to go to bed."
He sat down next to her. Light Spinner was deeply ashamed that all she wanted was to hold him again, like the first day he'd arrived. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but - " his eyes widened. "Your eyes are all black."
"That's what happens when you're wearing makeup and..." She swallowed. "Pass me the tissues."
As she wiped her eyes, he spoke again. "Sometimes just being there helps. I know it did for me when Casta barfed on the transport. I couldn't talk to her about it because - y'know - she was barfing." He cleared his throat. "I'm really bad at this, huh? But I'll sit here and hold you if you want. You don't deserve to be alone."
Light Spinner swallowed as he wrapped his arms around her. Releasing a shuddering breath, she returned his embrace, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against his unruly black hair. The shame over crying became bearable, and she wondered why her light never once ignited as she rested in his embrace.
The next day, Light Spinner clothed herself in a pink dress, fastened her badge, and mirror-traveled to the Great Hall. Before she even stepped inside, the clamor inside reached her ears, and she groaned. In and out. You don't really have much of a say in what happens. You're just here to get news and leave.
"You can't just expect us to keep taking in refugees," Muriel snapped at Ahelia as Light Spinner entered the Lunarium. "Mystacor has four cities. We're the smallest kingdom on Etheria. The pauperum will take up too many places in this place for sorcerers to live and train."
He'd never admit to agreeing with me now. Light Spinner rolled her eyes as Ahelia responded. "What choice do we have? Let those people die? We cannot fight them. We don't have the power - the Pull is too strong for sorcerers to make much of a difference in combat."
Light Spinner enjoyed when the Guild ate their own instead of turning their criticisms onto her. So she took her binders and stood against the wall, grading and watching. "This is a dilemma," Norwyn agreed, attempting to diffuse the fight. "We do not have the resources to continue such procedures, especially since it compromises Mystacor's safety. But letting those people die is also a cruel action."
"They're paupers," Festinia groaned. "They're probably going to starve to death soon anyway. If they don't want that, maybe they should sell themselves into slavery like their puss neighbors, the Felali."
"Watch your language," Arvina warned, and Festinia rolled her eyes. "We won't get anything done by dehumanizing the felinettas. What we need to do is pray that Amenity will grant the princesses the power to stop the Horde."
Light Spinner snapped her binder shut. "Amenity?" she laughed. "Keep praying to your made-up goddess, Arvina, while the lives of the Tropicil keep dwindling."
"Oh," Festinia said, adjusting her septum ring. "The little atheist arrived. And I suppose you have a better solution?" When Light Spinner opened her mouth to reply, Festinia held up a finger. "We know you want us to slaughter ourselves. Don't worry; I was being sarcastic."
"I'm not here to propose solutions," Light Spinner said coldly. "Only to ask for news."
Muriel cleared his throat. "The Tropicil migrated to the eastern end of the pauperum. Some of them fled through the Whispering Woods to the province of Meya in Bright Moon, but most of them either sailed to Salineas or are trapped at the coast. The western area of the pauperum is completely deserted."
Light Spinner's eyes passed to the map of Etheria that hung on the wall. "How did this happen?" She bit her lip. What does this mean for Micah? Will he have a home to return to? And where in the moons are his parents?
Norwyn sighed. "That's what we're not sure of, Light Spinner. The terrorists are quite good at cloaking themselves among the people, and they don't always wear Horde clothes. They often dress as commoners, enter an unsuspecting city, and ravage it. And their combat training is remarkable."
Low risk. High reward. Evil, but brilliant. Light Spinner sighed. "I see. Thank you, Master."
Norwyn smiled wearily at her, then spoke again. "You all bring up good points, but Festinia's is what I wish to emphasize. We cannot keep taking in refugees. We are a state that is of sorcerers, and it must remain that way. By tonight, we must close the gates to the common people. Muriel?"
"I will, Master."
Light Spinner's hands shook as the Guild disbanded. Only she and Norwyn were left in the room. She swallowed. "Master?"
Norwyn walked down the steps to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, and Light Spinner sighed. I'm not the only one who became the parent to a child from another kingdom. "Where are Micah's parents? Do you know?"
Norwyn shook his head. "We received no news from Sarah and Abraham since the light illusion she sent you."
"Can we cast a location spell to find them?" Light Spinner asked, though it was silly. Neither of them had a clear image of Sarah and Abraham in their minds, and even if they did, trying to locate someone who lived across the world required a spell so large it would take an entire team of trained sorcerers to do it. They won't do that. Not for me.
Norwyn gazed fondly at her. "Micah is yours until they contact me. Do not worry, child. You are a good woman, and I am proud of you."
She wished she could take the compliment. Are you? But she nodded and drew away, unclenching her fists. "Thank you, Master." With this, she left the room to mirror-travel home.
"""
You died when you were thirty-three Mother, on your birthday in the month of Juillet. It wasn't fair for the day to be so sunny when it sent you off. After it happened, I fell asleep and didn't wake up for almost a day afterward. Father thought I might be ill too, but when he found out I was just sick from sorrow, he dragged me out of bed and forced me to carry on with my life. I don't know how he managed to forget you so quickly.
"""
Micah paced the room, his eyebrows knit together and his expression tense. His heart leaped when he saw Light Spinner exit her bedroom, having returned from her meeting. News about Tropicilas. Finally. "What did they say? Are my parents okay? What happened?"
She sat down with him on the couch, her expression grave. "The terrorists attacked the pauperum again - they're surprisingly skilled with guerilla tactics. Most of the pauperum fled, and the western area is completely deserted. I'm sorry, Micah."
No. No, no, no. "We have to find them, Light Spinner!"
"We can't," she replied, her voice soft. "They're waiting to migrate to Salineas from the eastern coast, sold to the Horde by those bandits who live in the Crimson Waste, or in the Whispering Woods. I'm not a soldier. Neither are you."
Why me? Why, of all the parents and people on Etheria they could target, why me? He swallowed, sickness settling in his gut. "You can cast a location spell, right?"
"I suggested that to Norwyn, but even those have their limits," Light Spinner said. "There's nothing we can do for now." Micah stared at his shaking hands. Were his parents dead? What would become of him and Castaspella? Even if they did survive, would they ever see them again? Would Casta remember them when she grew up?
Light Spinner closed her hands around his, her voice gentle. "Breathe," she said. "I can't guarantee you'll see them again, but you and your sister are safe now. You cannot dwell on the what-ifs, or they will take over your mind."
They can't be dead. They're probably running away. As long as they aren't dead, there's hope.
Till then, I'll be living here in Mystacor. In a fancy house, cared for by a woman with a heart of gold.
Weeks passed, and Micah's skill in sorcery lapsed. Light Spinner's feelings matched his, though it wasn't anything new to her to see someone struggling after the loss of a parent. She'd been lucky, in a horrid way, that her father had died just after her graduation. If it had happened during the school year, she would have become an even worse student than Micah was right now.
She took him outside to practice mirror-travel. She had her reservations about allowing him to do such things at present, since mirror-travel was a risky practice, but it was important that he continue learning. An idle mind was sure to brew unhealthy responses to one's circumstances - this much she knew.
Micah shivered in his overcoat, gazing at the mirror. With a gloved hand, he drew the spell to enchant a mirror, then spoke to the large object. "T...take me to Light Spinner's office."
He's freezing. She frowned; perhaps after this lesson, they would go inside and make something warm to eat. Micah stepped inside the mirror, and she craned her neck, watching for his figure in the window of her office.
Moments passed by. Light Spinner's stomach froze, and she gasped. Holy moons, he's stuck! She cast a tendril spell - one that was exceedingly hard to master for someone with her stamina level - and threw it into the mirror, praying it would locate Micah. As soon as it grew taut, she wrapped it around her knuckles and yanked with all her strength.
Light Spinner's body responded with fatigue, and she dropped to her knees, panting as Micah flew out of the mirror. He coughed out silvery liquid from the In-Between onto the snow, rubbing his eyes and gasping for air. She checked his chest, stomach, and body for broken bones. Mirror-travel was no small feat - it required the ability to stand up to immense pressure.
Micah opened his eyes. "Thanks..." he groaned. "Sorry for getting distracted. I just can't stop thinking about them."
Light Spinner sighed. I understand. "We must take a break. Come inside - Norwyn brought me some cookies the other day, and we should be able to make a pot of ginger tea to go with them."
Micah nodded, closing his eyes, his breathing slowly fading back to normal. He took her gloved hand and stood, leaning on her as they went inside.
Light Spinner folded out the couch-bed for him, and he half-sat, half-lay there, his head on the pillow as she disappeared into the kitchen. Rattling sounded from in the cupboards, along with her humming as she gathered tea ingredients for them.
How could she be so calm? She was likely trying to be strong for him, to not show any of her own anxiousness, but sometimes she was as unreadable as any foreign language. His parents were displaced, his home was in shambles, and Micah didn't know if he would ever see them again.
The tea kettle whistled, and Light Spinner brought two cups over, along with a plate of cookies. With a smile, she offered them to him, and he nibbled one halfheartedly. She didn't meet his eyes for a long while.
She has a parent, he thought, and a tear dripped down his cheek. She couldn't possibly understand.
Light Spinner looked up, passing him the tissues. His few tears turned to small, silent sobs, and he placed his cup on a coaster, then buried his head in his arms. Within moments, chills settled over his body. Why do things have to change?
"I know how it feels," she murmured.
Micah turned his gaze up at her. Her silver makeup shimmered as she lowered her eyes. He sniffed. "You do?"
She nodded. "I lost both my parents by the time I was eighteen. It's...something I usually don't talk about."
Micah wiped his eyes on a tissue. Light Spinner took a shuddering breath as he inched close to her and held her. "My mother was the first to go - died of some sort of illness. She was never good at recovery." She paused. "Then her husband died just a few months after my graduation. I'd wanted to go back to Bel Delvala and live with him, but then I got the news. It changed my entire course of life."
"That's horrible," he said. "I'm sorry for telling you to send your letters to your mom. I didn't know she was gone."
Light Spinner shrugged, though her eyes betrayed immense pain. "I have riches, but I'm not happy. And I understand what it is to be lonely. To be an outcast, a misfit, someone with a shattered family. I've dealt with it ever since I came to Mystacor."
He knit his brows. "But you have Norwyn, right? At least you have a parent to go to."
"My relationship with Norwyn is...complicated." Micah frowned; what did that mean? "But I'm going to be taking care of you until your family contacts him or me. I could be your parent till then...if you want."
She's so gentle, deep down. Micah smiled through his tears. "I'd like that," he said, calmness washing over him. He blushed. "My mom used to sing for me. Can you sing?"
"It depends on what you mean by can."
"What do you mean?"
Light Spinner chuckled wryly. "I have the ability to make a noise that sounds like singing. But if you're referring to whether I'm good at it, the answer is no."
"Well, how long has it been since you last sang?"
"A good fifteen years or so," she said with a shrug.
Fifteen years? That's crazy. "But you're, what, thirty now?"
"Twenty-nine."
"Okay, and I'm guessing your voice got better once you were an adult."
Light Spinner tilted her head. "More or less. My peers when I was studying for my Emeth in Arxia University told me I sounded like a boy."
Wow. "What? They're silly," Micah said, crossing his arms indignantly. "You'd have to be deaf to think that. C'mon, please can you sing to me?"
She sighed. "I suppose." She cleared her throat, then began to sing in a foreign language. Her voice echoed off the walls, deep and resonant, and with her eyes closed and her body glowing, she was almost angelic.
When Light Spinner finished, she passed a sheepish gaze to him, and Micah laughed. "That's amazing! What does it mean?"
"It's not a happy song," she said. "But I remember it best. It was written during the Obtainment War by some of the people Auctor forced into his experiments. Are you sure you want to know what it means?"
"Sure," Micah said. "I'd love to."
Light Spinner looked upward for a moment, mentally translating the words. "When the tides of sorrow roll, when the bell rings its dark toll, when the answer is inscrolled, I will still be there. When corruption has its way, when the mind goes to waste, when all I love ends up erased, I will still be there."
Micah tilted his head. "That's really pretty. But sad - kind of like you." He covered his mouth. Did I say that out loud? "Sorry. I didn't mean to - "
Light Spinner held up a hand. "It's true. But I've always thought of it to be about hope. Think about it - does the song ever say that the singer is alone?"
Micah shook his head. "It does say when all I love ends up erased, but that may not be talking about people."
"Exactly. I've always believed it to be about a person singing to the one they love," Light Spinner said, gazing ahead. "Even when they've lost everything, they will still be there for that other person."
Micah closed his eyes. "I like that meaning much better."
