It was a hot winter day. That was unusual on the island of Kalkha. It was true that by the end of February, the sun would usually begin to nibble away at the snowdrifts, revealing flattened, dry grass and muddy puddles. But this year, the thaw had arrived surprisingly fast. A freezing wind still blew from the sea, but otherwise, the landscape was bathed in pale winter sunlight. Its touch was warm and soothing. It was almost an idyllic scene.
Two small figures were slowly making their way up a stony path along the slope. Both were wrapped in coats, their hands buried in gloves, gripping wands. Pointed hats with wide brims rippled on their heads. One of the figures—the smaller one—suddenly stopped and knelt.
"Look, master! Snowdrops!" Esme cried out excitedly, her little face nearly buried in the snow.
Mnou bent over her apprentice and examined the white blossom for a moment. It was still small and frail, but there was no doubt.
"You're right," she agreed with a smile. "It looks like spring is on its way."
"Yay!" The girl jumped up excitedly and lost her balance. If Mnou hadn't caught her deftly, she would've ended up in a puddle.
"Now, now, be careful," Mnou chided gently and straightened the hat that had slid down over her forehead.
"Sorry. I'm just so glad spring is coming. This winter felt endless." The witches resumed their walk.
Mnou had to admit the girl was right. They had been through a lot. And that was putting it mildly. She glanced at the staff she was holding. She had gotten used to the strange aura emanating from it. At first, it made her a little nervous. Over the years, with her mother's soul dwelling within, she had grown accustomed to the gentle warmth it radiated. Now, the soul of Aigia lazily swirled beneath her fingers. That's the name she had given it. Surely the goddess had once had a name, but it had long since been lost to the depths of time and history. So Mnou decided to give her a new one. Everyone deserves a name. In truth, it had been Esme who came up with it. She remembered a few ancient runes taught to her by Yelwa. They chose the name Aigia, which meant "dawn." Her aura was strong and rich, and the witch often felt it flowing under her fingers and the wood like a river current. But not restlessly. It was like a steady and powerful stream, calmly flowing from stone to stone. Over time, she realized there was something just as comforting in it as her mother's warmth. Only after a while did Mnou realize she had completely lost herself in her thoughts and forgotten why she had even started thinking about all of it.
"Um… did you ask something, Esme?" Mnou stammered in confusion.
The apprentice looked at her with a furrowed brow, then laughed. "You're totally spaced out again, master."
"Spaced out?! Is that how you talk to your master?" She tried for a stern tone, but it didn't work at all. She laughed too.
"I said this winter felt like it lasted forever, didn't it?"
"Yes, I thought so too. I'm glad it's all behind us now."
"I hope so," Esme mumbled, a little uncertain. Recently, the girl had finally returned to her cheerful, talkative self. Mnou couldn't have been happier—even if it were just a façade like before—but this time… this time it felt much more genuine. Behind her smile was true happiness. Sometimes, however, her melancholic and distrustful mood would still show. No wonder, Mnou would always think. Few people carry such a burden as she does. I can help her, but I will never be able to take it away completely. Still, she was thankful even for that. She playfully nudged the girl to lift her spirits.
"Well, we pulled it off, didn't we? We saved Azra and managed to close the rift to the astral world. And it's all thanks to you, Esme! You're much more amazing than you probably realize. I've never seen a witch your age does something like that."
"It was nothing," the apprentice protested, but even under the brim of her hat, she blushed and puffed out her chest proudly.
"Oh, come on, you did it all by yourself. The rest of us were lying around unconscious. You even managed after protecting us for hours."
Esme twirled a strand of hair around her finger and didn't even try to hide how proud she was of herself anymore. "Alright, maybe I am pretty good."
"That's more like it! Give yourself some credit."
The girl was probably starting to feel a bit embarrassed from all the praise, so she changed the subject. "Do you think Azra will come by tomorrow? I wanted to show him how to create a rain shield."
"Hopefully. He was fishing with his father today, but he usually visits us on Sundays."
The witches were a bit disappointed when they arrived at the village and found Azra's house empty with only a note, he had left for them in case they stopped by. But they had other stops to make. They dropped in on Darp, who welcomed them warmly and, in his good mood, even packed them some dried marjoram for the road. But that wasn't their main reason for coming. The whole journey had been prompted by some interesting news they had recently heard. After many months, the Skylark was due to dock on Kalkha's shores—a merchant ship arriving all the way from distant Virsel. From that same Virsel where the Ashkantt Academy of Witchcraft stood, and where, the two girls hoped, someone they both held very dear still resided. Their saviour.
When Mnou heard the news, she was suddenly overcome by an inexplicable desire to board the Skylark and revisit her hometown. A city where she had experienced so much. Mostly bad, yes, but it still held a certain nostalgia for her. What does the Cortell villa look like now? she wondered, and immediately corrected herself—the former Cortell villa. How is Asha? How is Professor Axel? She longed to see that rotten, fish-smelling city once more, adorned with the aromas of exotic spices and fruit.
But those thoughts vanished the moment she saw Esme's worried little face. In her eyes shone an old, but never-forgotten pain. One glance into those troubled blue pools, which had seen far too much, was enough to make her abandon the idea. That didn't mean, however, that they wouldn't let their dear professor know how they were.
They both had the same thought, but Esme said it first. "What if we wrote Professor Axel a letter?" Mnou didn't need any convincing. Lately, she had been burdened with guilt. Until Esme had arrived at her doorstep, she hadn't even realized how many years had passed since she had saved her. And she had never once thought to let her know she was alright. A single line would have sufficed. But she hadn't written even that. She felt it was time to change that, and this was the perfect opportunity.
They wrote the letter together late into the night, eventually falling asleep at the table with ink-stained fingers. In the morning, all that remained was to finish a few lines, slip it into an envelope, and seal it with wax. Mnou still remembered every single word. She had spent the entire evening crafting them. The sentences had started forming in her mind as if she was reading them aloud.
Dear Professor,
I hope you are doing well. It's been a while since we've seen each other. I'm sitting at the table in my little house—the one that once belonged to witch Ux—where you sent me all those years ago. Esme is sitting next to me. She's grinning from ear to ear and suggesting what I should write. She's better with words than I am, but I'm sure you already knew that.
When Esme appeared on my doorstep all those months ago, I was confused—just as you predicted. You asked me to take her as my apprentice and said that was all you wanted in return. You asked me to make a small sacrifice, but you probably had no idea you were sending me the greatest gift I've ever received. Or maybe you did. That's just the kind of person you are. So, we both want to thank you. I'm not exaggerating when I say you saved us both. You were the only one who reached out a helping hand when everyone else turned away. That's something we can never repay you for. It feels almost ridiculous that all we can offer right now are a few lines scribbled on paper, but we hope that they can somehow, even if inadequately, show you how grateful we are for what you did for us. So once again, thank you for everything.
With all our best wishes,
Mnou and Esme
P.S. We'll write again as soon as we can.
Mnou gently took Esme's hand. Suddenly, a strange warm feeling filled her chest. There was something nostalgic about it—like something long lost that she had been searching for years to find. So long that she had stopped believing she'd ever find it again. But now, her search was finally over. In one hand, she held Esme's warmth, and in the other, her magical staff. Her mind flashed through everything that had happened in the past few months. There had been many painful memories, but time had already washed them away, leaving only the beautiful ones. And it was those memories that gave her the strength to keep moving forward. Maybe it was only now that she took the first real step — the one she had been gathering the courage for all this time. She suddenly had to smile. She didn't even know why — but it was the most genuine smile of her entire life. Of that, she was certain.