Notes: I'm back writing 13 Ghosts fic again! This is a oneshot that is tied to my Season Two project; the present-day part of this story is meant to take place between "In the Blood" and the upcoming "Sands of Time and Space" (which is outlined and will hopefully have the first chapter up this weekend).
Fa'Diel is meant to be the same Fa'Diel where the Square Enix Mana series takes place (which is where I draw most of the "rules" of how mana works in my fic 'verse). I drop a few more names from Vincent's school days; his fellow Athenians, Dean Cesare and Endora, I've mentioned before; I don't think I ever said this before specifically, but Dean Cesare, as well as the two Associate Deans and the son of the Associate Dean are meant to be shout-outs to other classic horror actors, just as Vincent and his classmates are (most of whom—the male students specifically—were introduced in the 13 Ghosts series canon; Byron is from episode 3, Voudini from episode 7, and Boris from the final episode). I'm curious to see if anyone can figure out who these new names are based off of; you'll see them again in a future fic, wherein I'll reveal their inspirations.
Quenya and the word Istari are from Lord of the Rings; Voudini knowing Quenya and using a palantír are references to the fact that I'm confident in saying (and I've mentioned before) that Voudini's design in episode 7 was meant to be based off of Christopher Lee—Mr. Lee famously portrayed the Istari Saruman in the early 00s film adaptation of LOTR and spoke Quenya/used a palantír in the role. I've more or less written Voudini in my timeline as a "good guy" version of Saruman.
Saronic Islands, Greece/The Realm of Fa'Diel, Year 32—
In hindsight, Vincent should have taken into consideration why first-year students at the Saronic Academy of the Magic Arts (called "Terror Tech," among its students) were not allowed to enter the doorway to Fa'Diel, even among the Advanced Class. Advanced Class members were permitted to go after during their second year—under the direct supervision of their instructor; the rest of the students had to wait until their third year.
Access to Fa'Diel—a realm in another dimension where magic flowed freely and where mages, mortals, fae, halflings, elves, and countless other races all coexisted (though not necessarily in peace)—was extremely restricted to staff, as well. Not even the instructors had access to the dimensional gate; the only three warlocks who had the ability to open the gate were Dean Cesare, Associate Dean Reed, and Associate Dean Leonidas, and one of them would have to open the gate before an instructor could take his or her class through it.
Ordinarily, Vincent, in spite of his stubbornness, would have cut his losses at this point, until it came to light that one of his fellow Advanced Class students happened to be the son of Associate Dean Leonidas—Leonidas II, who hailed from Corinth, like his father.
Recognizing a challenge when he saw one, Vincent proceeded to coax Leonidas II into telling him how to open the gate—for, surely, his father had let slip how to do it at least once. It hadn't taken long for Leonidas II to admit that, yes, this was the case.
Knowing that Vincent and the rest of the Athenian-born members of the Advanced Class considered themselves rivals to the Corinthians (and vice-versa), Leonidas II was reasonably secure in the knowledge that if Vincent was caught sneaking into or out of Fa'Diel, it wouldn't be traced back to him—and so, he told him the incantation required for unsealing the gate.
Vincent had intended to go to Fa'Diel alone, but Voudini, who had an uncanny knack of knowing exactly when Vincent was headed for trouble (Vincent blamed that palantír of his, which tended to work better than even the best crystal ball), had quickly caught on to his plan and insisted on coming along—which had led to the rest of Vincent's gang of Athenians insisting on coming, too.
Given how restricted access to Fa'Diel was, Vincent had been expecting something similar to Tartarus waiting for them—not the peaceful-looking forest they had ended up in. They'd only been in Fa'Diel for a few minutes before some sort of humanoid fish creature popped out of the nearby river, waving cheerfully, greeting them in a language they couldn't understand—the six young mages simply waved back in an effort to be polite, continuing on through the forest.
A number of odd fruits and berries grew on the bushes and trees, and Vincent found himself vexed at not knowing which were safe to eat—no doubt something that Instructor Endora was meant to have taught them. At this point, his better judgment was prodding him to lead the others back to the academy—but his curiosity was prodding him to explore Fa'Diel further.
His curiosity won out; Vincent let the others deeper into the forest, pausing after a while to conjure up some dolmas for him and his friends to enjoy, pausing after a while as a woman, clad in armor and carrying a scimitar, passed by, noticing them eating.
She greeted them in her own language; once again, they couldn't understand her as she continued to speak, but as she drew out some ripe-looking fruit from her travel pouch and then indicated the dolmas they were eating, it was clear she wanted to make a trade.
Again, to be polite, Vincent obliged her with the trade; she said something else (presumably a "Thanks") and continued on her way, and the young mages washed down their snack with the fruit, which was refreshingly sweet, albeit a little tingly on the tongue. So far, their stay had been rather pleasant.
"Vincent, I know we don't have any classes for the next few days," Byron said, after a while. "But even then, I'm sure Instructor Endora will notice our absence."
"Perhaps, but how could she possibly know where we are?" Vincent pointed out. "However, if the rest of you wish to return, I won't fault you."
"I'll stay," Voudini insisted.
"Me, too," Miranda added.
The others also insisted—even Byron changed his mind.
"Honestly, I think Byron's right," Vincent said. "I appreciate you wanting to keep me company, but there doesn't seem to be anything truly dangerous about this place that would warrant you to back me up. You can all go back, and I'll join you after I've had more of a look around…"
He trailed off as they now heard the sounds of wings fluttering around in the nearby trees—large wings that did not belong to any bird.
"Look…!" Miranda gasped, pointing behind him.
Vincent turned, catching a glimpse of a winged humanoid watching them from a tree, disappearing as he turned to look.
"…A fairy…" Boris realized. "Now I understand why access to this place is so restricted. The fae were once the greatest enemies of us mages. We must leave—or else."
"We're not enemies anymore," Vincent pointed out. "We're just minding our own business."
"I do believe it would be wise to go back," Alisa insisted. "The fae still demand respect, and we don't want to inadvertently insult them."
"I agree—let's leave," Byron said, and Voudini nodded in agreement.
Knowing he was outnumbered now, Vincent was prepared to follow the others—but all of them froze in their tracks as the fairy now made itself visible, right in front of them—and accompanied by two others. Miranda gasped, clutching at Vincent's arm.
"Above all else, be respectful," Voudini hissed in Vincent's ear, before addressing the fae. "My greetings, Good Neighbors."
"Greek—the Athenian dialect," the middle fairy observed, also speaking in Greek. She closed her eyes for a moment. "…Mana—I can sense it in all of you. You are Istari—but you are so young."
Voudini blinked; Istari was the Quenya word for a mage. Of course, it made sense they would know an Elven language…
"They must be from that school," the fairy on the right surmised.
"They're usually older, and accompanied by an older Istari," the fairy on the left pointed out.
"You are correct, Good Neighbors," Vincent replied. "We sought to explore this realm on our own, but we certainly didn't mean to trespass…" He almost apologized—before reminding himself that an apology would acknowledge that he would owe something to the fae, who would have the power to interpret that something as anything they might want. "We'll be on our way back now."
He and the others began slowly backing away, keeping their heads slightly inclined. The three fairies observed this, and began talking amongst themselves in Quenya—not realizing that Voudini knew the language.
"Fledgling Istari…" the middle fairy mused. "I think they are young enough for us to take to our realm, don't you?"
"Our hostilities with the Istari ended a thousand years ago," the fairy on the left reminded her.
"This has nothing to do with hostilities," the middle fairy replied. "Youngsters are fair game for us, be they mortal or Istari or anything we wish to take to our realm and raise as our own."
"We will have the elder Istari after us," the fairy on the right shuddered.
"Not if we replace them with Changelings—I think they are still young enough for us to pull it off. Imagine if we got Changelings into that Istari academy—we would learn all of their secrets!"
"Vincent…" Voudini muttered in an undertone. "They're talking about capturing us and replacing us with fae clones."
"…On the count of three, we run," Vincent replied under his breath. "One… two… three!"
The six of them turned and bolted; the two fairies on the ends were quick to decide that it wasn't worth the effort to pursue them, but the middle fairy wasn't about to lose her prizes so easily.
She uttered a spell in her native tongue, summoning thorn-covered vines that pursued the fleeing mages; Vincent narrowly dodged one—but one of the thorns grazed the side of his face, cutting him on the cheek. A small trickle of blood—glimmering pearlescent with mana—slipped down his cheek.
Furious at being attacked when they'd only been trying to retreat, he paused, turning to glare at the fairy as his left hand flexed.
"No!" Voudini chided in a panic, grabbing him by his left arm and practically dragging him along.
The fairy had paused for a moment, as well, for in that moment that she had locked eyes with the furious Vincent, she had sensed something—a power that she hadn't seen since the days of the war, when the feared warlock Asamad Van Ghoul had been on the battlefield.
Is… is this the Van Ghoul heir…? she silently wondered.
…She couldn't let him get away, if that was so. She could use his companions to get him to go along quietly—one threat to them, and he would comply, no doubt…
It was clear that they were heading for the open gate; using her fairy magic, she placed a powerful seal upon it.
"We're trapped!" Miranda cried.
"You there, Boy!" the fairy said, addressing Vincent. "If you value the lives of your comrades, you will accompany me without question!"
He looked even angrier than before now; but, surely, he could calm down and obey to protect his friends…
…She couldn't have been more wrong. An emerald-green aura now flared up around the boy, much to the shock of his companions.
"My concern is not my weakness!" he snapped.
A shockwave was unleashed as the boy spoke, knocking the fairy backwards; even as the fairy got back up, the boy placed his hands on the seal upon the gate, the aura around him flaring up even more as he burned through his mana for the one purpose of overpowering her seal.
And, within seconds, he had done it—the seal broke.
"GO!" he ordered his friends—sending another shockwave at the fairy.
Momentarily stunned, they eventually came to their senses, going through the gate one by one.
"QUAGA!" Vincent yelled.
He summoned a row of stone spikes to rise from the ground, effectively providing a wall to cover their retreat, and once the others were through it, he followed, reappearing with the others in the Dean's office—and he quickly uttered the incantation to close the gate.
As he turned to face his companions, however, he was surprised to see them still looking at him in utter shock.
"What…?" he asked, now trying to catch his breath as his anger subsided—and as the fiery aura around him faded as his mana was depleted from having spent so much to break the fairy's seal, as well as casting Quaga immediately after that. "What is it…?"
He trailed off, not just because he was out of breath, but because the door to the Dean's office opened, revealing Dean Cesare himself, accompanied by the two Associate Deans.
But before anyone could say a word, Vincent's exhaustion caught up with him, and he immediately proceeded to faceplant on the floor, out cold, as his friends panicked and gathered around him.
He came to hours later in the infirmary, still surrounded by his friends, but also surrounded by Dean Cesare, the two Associate Deans, and Instructor Endora. The six of them found themselves on the receiving end of a long lecture—but, oddly enough, no actual punishment, whether it was because the adults were secretly impressed with what had happened, or whether they, to some extent, were wary of Vincent's power.
Regardless, Vincent and his gang didn't question it—and they were more than willing to wait until next year before returning to Fa'Diel again.
Breed's Hill, Massachusetts, Summer, Year 2016—
The passing centuries had given Vincent much knowledge, experience, wisdom, and, mercifully for all concerned, control of his temper and power (for the most part, anyway), though that had come at a cost—an out-of-control spell that had destroyed a mountain peak in the years immediately following his graduation from the academy, and the ensuing realization of the damage he was capable of, had forced Vincent to push away the five classmates who had been his otherwise inseparable companions up until then.
In time, he had reconnected with most of them—all but Miranda, with whom the situation was far more complicated, as their parting had included a broken engagement. Though not as inseparable as they used to be, Vincent had, nevertheless, acquired a new set of inseparable companions—three young mortals, and two dogs. As with his mage companions, Vincent had tried to push them away for their own safety, as well, but while his fellow mages had accepted it, even if they hadn't liked it, the mortals had not been as willing to give up.
They'd been with him just shy of two years now, and just as with his fellow mages, Vincent was fiercely protective over them—and they, over him, as they had willingly put themselves in danger to save him from a Gorgon descendant, a petrification curse, the vengeful spirit of an overzealous witch hunter, and more.
Tonight, they were facing another threat together—an angry spirit from the days of the Revolutionary War that was causing trouble to passersby at the site of the Bunker Hill battlefield. Amused at the thought of being stopped by a group of mortals under the direction of a warlock, the spirit hadn't taken them seriously at all.
"Are you so weak, Wizard, that you have mortals do your work for you?" the ghost taunted, not realizing just how wrong he was. He conjured some throwing knives out of ectoplasm. "With no magic of their own, they aren't a threat."
He hurled the daggers, but Vincent was ready, teleporting in front of the mortals—
"Reflect!"
He'd learned the Reflect Barrier from the goddess Athena shortly after his graduation—but he hadn't realized how important it was until after he'd nearly leveled the mountain. Realizing that there was far less risk in using his enemies' powers against them, rather than chancing his own powers going out of control, he'd fallen back on a defensive strategy.
The ghost dodged the reflected throwing knives in surprise.
"…So you aren't a fraud…" he mused.
"Of course he isn't, you big meanie!" Scrappy growled. "We'll show you!"
"Rhbe careful!" Scooby yelped, pulling Scrappy out of the way as the ghost cast an amused glance at him.
"Look, we didn't ask for this!" Daphne said, confronting the ghost. "You're the one bothering the tourists; if you promise to stop, we'll leave you alone."
"Away, back to your scullery, Lass!" the ghost scoffed. "I'll not waste my time with the likes of you!"
"…Uh-oh…" Flim-Flam winced, knowing the ghost had said the wrong thing.
Vincent scowled, but while he was forced to rein in his temper to prevent his powers from going out of control, Daphne was under no such restrictions.
Shaggy also gulped as he saw the flash of rage cross Daphne's face.
"…Uh, Daphne…?"
"Give me the Chest of Demons," she ordered. "He's mine."
Shaggy knew better than to argue; he handed the Chest over.
"Daphne…" Vincent cautioned, noting that the ghost didn't seem at all concerned. "Don't be hasty."
She was so much like himself at that age—driven by curiosity and a thrill for adventure, being an unfortunate magnet for trouble… and having a quick temper, especially when wronged. But she had no magic to defend herself, which meant that he would have to step in and intervene in a matter like this.
Mercifully, she listened and paused; he held his hand out, aiming at the ground in front of Daphne—
"DeSpell!"
A large trap of ectoplasm dissipated, and Daphne took a step back, realizing that she would've been caught in it had she attempted to run forward and confront the ghost.
The ghost scowled at Vincent.
"You're no fun, Wizard," he sneered. "Why don't you test your strength against me, rather than playing nursemaid to these mortals?"
"Because looking after these five is actually a challenge worthy of me; fighting against you wouldn't be."
Furious now, the spirit conjured more ectoplasmic throwing knives, which Vincent reflected once again, as though illustrating his point.
"Fine…" the spirit snarled. "Try reflecting these!"
Trees began to uproot around them, and Daphne now tried to use the Chest to draw the ghost in, but the spirit pulled free of its suctioning pull, hurling a half-dozen trees at Vincent, who now had to use levitate on them, knowing that the Reflect Barrier wouldn't cover enough space. It was a large amount of weight he was trying to keep aloft—much like trying to break the fairy barrier all those centuries ago, Vincent was burning through his mana now with the effort, the fiery aura flaring around him in spite of him keeping his temper in check.
And the ghost, sensing the chance to seize the upper hand, was trying to force the trees down on Vincent with his levitating powers.
"You can't do that to Mr. Van Ghoul!" Scrappy snarled. He aimed a flying kick at the ghost, but let out a frustrated growl as he phased right through him.
"And just how do you intend to stop me?" the ghost asked. He pulled free of the Chest's pull again as Daphne tried once more to draw him into it.
"Why isn't it working!?" she cried.
"He's stronger than we first estimated…" Vincent managed to say, still straining with the efforts of keeping the falling trees in the air. "He'll need to be restrained or weakened before the Chest can grab ahold of him!"
His mind was racing furiously; he needed to use more powerful spells to get that to happen—but both of his hands were occupied with the levitation spell—and his mana was still rapidly being used up. It would come down to who ran out of mana first—himself, or the ghost. The problem was, the ghost had gravity on his side—he was using only one hand to cast his spell.
"Right, weakened…" Scrappy said, now throwing rocks at the ghost. "Take that! And that!"
It didn't seem to work, either—even though Flim-Flam, Scooby, and even Shaggy were also throwing things at him to distract him long enough to break his concentration and allow Vincent to regain the upper hand—and Daphne was still trying to draw the ghost into the Chest, but to no avail, it seemed.
Grinning maniacally now, the ghost conjured another ectoplasmic throwing knife and hurled it at Vincent's head.
"NO!" Daphne shrieked.
Vincent leaned back and avoided the worst of it, but the dagger did graze his cheek—almost in the same place the fairy's thorn-covered vine had. As before, a trickle of mana-laden blood slipped down his face.
The others were frantically calling for Vincent. Horrified, Daphne passed the Chest back to Shaggy and ran back to Vincent's side in a panic to survey the damage, gently placing a hand on his bleeding cheek, instinctively trying to stop the bleeding.
"I'm fine…" he insisted, still trying to focus on keeping the trees from falling in on him.
Before Daphne could say anything, the air was filled with the ghost's laugh. And as the malevolent spirit laughed, taking delight in their distress, something came over Daphne. Vincent saw the growing anger in her eyes—just like Vincent had felt, hurting those she cared about was unforgiveable.
Her hand pulled away from his face, red with his pearlescent blood upon it, and as she glanced at it, she recalled what she had learned on their last adventure—that a mage's blood was where their mana was.
She turned on the spot, aiming her hand at the laughing ghost—
"TEMPORAL CHAINS!"
She had to admit, it was satisfying to see the look of shock on that spirit's face as he was trapped, immobile, in the magical bonds.
"Shaggy, now!"
This time, as Shaggy drew the ghost into the Chest, he couldn't escape; at last, he was trapped, and Shaggy closed the lid with a sigh of relief.
Vincent, now not having to fight against the spirit's spell, moved the trees back into place, closing the ground back around their roots. Exhausted once again with his mana mostly depleted, he would have collapsed, but Shaggy and Daphne had rushed forward to catch him as he fell.
"Vince!" Flim-Flam yelled, running over with the dogs.
"He's used up his mana again," Scrappy realized, his ears drooping.
"Is he gonna be rhokay?" Scooby whimpered.
"Yes… just like always, I'll be fine…" Vincent insisted. "I just need to rest…" He exhaled. "But first… I need to teleport us home—I should have just enough mana left…"
"No!" Daphne pleaded. "Please, don't do this to yourself! I know you'll be fine later, but I hate seeing you like that…!"
"Rhme too," Scooby said.
"They're right; Plymouth is just an hour away from here—we can take the van, and you can rest at my folks' place!" Shaggy offered.
Vincent glanced at Shaggy, puzzled.
"And just how will you explain my presence to your parents?"
"You're a friend who's like family, who's been helping us out these past two years, and now you need help," Shaggy responded, after a moment. "I mean, we might as well give the truth a try—or, like, part of it, at least."
There was no need to mention the Chest of Demons—for now, anyway…
"That works for me," Flim-Flam said. "How's about it, Guys?"
"Rhi like it…" Scooby agreed.
"Yeah, me too!" Scrappy added.
"It's the best possible idea," Daphne agreed. "Shaggy, you drive—Scooby and I will help look after Vincent."
She and Shaggy helped Vincent into the van, and Shaggy got in the driver's seat. Trying to conserve what little strength he had left, Vincent didn't talk much, aside from a brief thanks as Scooby held the first aid kit for Daphne, allowing her to tend to the cut on his face.
He'd noticed before how much she reminded him of himself—and not always in a good way, alas. Perhaps it was because of their similarities that they had forged such a strong connection. And, perhaps, he could use the experience he'd gained to prevent her from making the same mistakes he'd made.
His thoughts now turned elsewhere—specifically to something that spirit had said…
"With no magic of their own, they aren't a threat."
It wasn't as though Vincent hadn't tried to convince them to stay out of it; they had insisted on staying—and sharing this life with him. But they were vulnerable against these supernatural threats—if only they knew how to protect themselves with magic… but they would need mana for that, and they had none of their own…
He looked thoughtful, recalling how Daphne had been able to cast Temporal Chains just by coming into contact with the mana in his blood—something she had done once before. And though he hadn't seen it, he'd heard of how she'd used a mana-laden staff to cast Fira. And hadn't Scooby used the Wonder Wand to great effect during their struggle with Maldor? …Perhaps they didn't need their own mana—just access to mana in general.
If they were willing to learn, he'd start by teaching them all the Protect spell, to be able to defend themselves—perhaps even Esuna, the healing spell, as well. Scrappy and Flim-Flam, no doubt, would be eager to learn more, but they were both far too young—they would need to wait a few more years before learning any offensive spells. Shaggy and Scooby would probably decline learning anything else—knowing them, they wouldn't want to be overly confrontational with the kind of things they came up against—and Protect would serve its purpose for the kind of involvement they'd prefer.
But, Daphne… She seemed to be a natural at spellcasting, despite having no mana of her own… With the curiosity she possessed, she might very well be eager to learn under his tutelage.
"Daphne?"
"Hmm?" she asked, looking up from the first aid kit—she had just finished cleaning his cut and was looking for a bandage. "Is something wrong?"
"I want you to try something," Vincent said. He indicated the cloth she'd been using to clean his wound—it would have trace amounts of his mana on it, as well. "Place that back on my face."
She was confused, but she did as he instructed.
"Now what?" she asked.
"Heal me."
"…What!?" she asked, surprised. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Whyever not?"
"Well, using a spell on you is… different," she said. "If I'd messed up casting a spell on that spirit back at Breed's Hill—or even the High Inquisitor like last time—it'd have some effect, but not the intended one. I don't really care what happens to them. But if I'd messed up casting a spell on you…" She shuddered.
"You and Shaggy were able to heal me using my own mana once before, remember?"
"We were desperate that time," Daphne returned. "This is just something that can be healed the mortal way; I don't think…"
Shaggy had pulled the van over to the side of the road now so that he, Flim-Flam, and Scrappy could join the others, curious as to how this would play out.
"I have complete confidence in you, Daphne—I'm sure the others do, as well," Vincent insisted.
"Rheah, we do!" Scooby agreed.
"Yeah, you can do it!" Scrappy encouraged.
"You didn't have any problem casting those other spells," Flim-Flam reminded her.
"Yeah, like, why should this be any different?" Shaggy pointed out.
Daphne bit her lip.
"Try, Daphne—please," Vincent requested. "A healing spell requires great conviction to use, it's true—but the fact that you've used it before proves that you can do it. You just have to want to."
Daphne managed a nod, focusing on the task at hand. This was someone she cared about very much—a dear friend who was like a father figure to her and the others. Of course she wanted to heal him.
"Esuna," she said.
And, just like that, the cut on Vincent's face healed instantly.
"…Well, I hate to say 'I told you so…'"
"No, you don't," Daphne replied, but she managed a smile. "But I think I deserve it, so I'll take it."
She hugged him, gently, and the others soon joined in to make it a group hug; though still exhausted, Vincent made the effort of returning it.
"I think all of you could be quite capable of spellcasting," Vincent said, after a moment.
"Sure, like, if we had mana," Shaggy pointed out.
"Or items with mana," Vincent finished. "If nothing else, I would like the five of you to learn how to cast Protect. After that, well… I'd leave it open if you'd want to learn more—though I'd prefer that Flim-Flam and Scrappy waited until they're a bit older."
As he'd suspected, Flim-Flam and Scrappy complained, but accepted waiting to learn more, while Shaggy and Scooby politely declined.
And Daphne was quiet, clearly thinking deeply about her options before glancing back at him.
"So… I'd learn how to cast spells from you, using a magic wand or something?" she asked.
"A wand is a very basic magic tool," Vincent said. "From what I've seen of your capabilities, Daphne, you would be able to use a staff. But yes, that would be the general idea."
"…So I'd be a journalist moonlighting as a part-time witch?" Daphne mused. "You know what? I think I'd like to learn it."
Just as he'd thought—and, if he was being honest, just as he'd hoped. Daphne might not be his heiress by blood, and there would be some limitations to what she'd be able to learn, as she was a mortal, but Vincent would be willing to teach her as much as he possibly could and, therefore, she could carry on a magical legacy that Vincent had assumed would have ended with him.
"Then it's settled," he said. "I know you'll be busy visiting your friend Velma in a couple weeks, so we won't bother starting until after you've finished with that. You'll all have your first lessons on learning to cast Protect."
"Sounds like a plan," Shaggy said. "Okay, now just save your strength and sit back, Mr. V—I'll get you to my parents' place in two shakes."
He got back into the driver's seat with Scooby in the front passenger seat, and Flim-Flam and Scrappy got back into their seats, eagerly discussing the possibilities of learning magic once they could convince Vincent they were old enough.
Vincent listened to them in some amusement before glancing back at Daphne as she tapped him on the shoulder.
"Thank you," she said.
"For what?"
"For believing in me," she replied, with a wan smile. "I just hope I can make you proud as your apprentice."
"I have no doubts of that," he assured her.
Once she learned to control her emotions as he had, there would be little else that would remain as an obstacle for her.
And he had no doubts of her being able to accomplish that, as well.
A bright future lay ahead, and, for once, Vincent found himself being cautiously optimistic about what lay in store for him and his little patchwork family.
