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"Where are you taking me?" Doyle asked as we entered through an iron gate and into a field of green, fresh-smelling grass.
"Just trust me." I dragged him by the hand and strode along the gravel path. Gravestones lined up on our sides.
We stopped at the sign saying, ‘The Knight Family Graveyard.’ Inside the fence, there were three stones—for all the people I loved but lost.
Kneeling, I put my hand on the ground. The soil particles ascended like sand, moving up in an hourglass, forming the shape of another graveyard stone. Witches didn't create. We penetrated the structure of the matter, decomposing it and reconstructing it in another form. From soil, we could construct a plant, a stone, or a living, breathing animal. That was the foundation of Earth Magic.
"I-is this?" Doyle uttered once he realized what I was doing.
"I know Viessa isn’t buried here," I said. "But consider this her memorial. What would you like to write on her grave?"
Doyle closed his eyes and tipped his head back for a moment. "Viessa Vettias. She saw life as a dream."
Extending one finger, I moved my hand, spelling out the words in the air, and as I did, they appeared on the stone. From my backpack, I pulled out a small bag of seeds that I gave Doyle. He crouched before the gravestone and dug his hand in the dirt, planting flowers that would soon bloom red, Viessa’s favorite.
Ever since Doyle told me what happened, I had been thinking of a way to help. I thought this would be a chance for him to say goodbye, to let go of Viessa and his persistent guilt towards her. I couldn’t stand to watch him suffer in silence.
I’m just being sympathetic, right? I wondered, fearing that if I didn’t set my boundaries, I’d be setting myself up for heartbreak.
***
"So, you and Jivar were not lovers?" I asked.
"No," Ebba replied with a giggle.
I put my hands together in front of my heart. "Thank you, God. Thank you for this."
Everyone laughed. Kirby, Doyle, Vanna, and I were in the hospital room, listening to Ebba’s story.
"I’m just relieved my great-grandmother is a good person," I said. "Love you, Grandma." I jumped at her with a hug, and we both fell on the couch.
"Don’t c-call me that." She squirmed underneath me. "Let me go."
"But a grandmother’s hug is made of love," I said in a child-like tone.
"Somebody h-help," she cried out.
"Echo, you’re crushing her." Doyle extended his hand. He was a little too strong when he pulled me up, so we bumped into each other—my forehead smacked against his firm chest. Suddenly, my whole body tingled. I turned around, avoiding eye contact. I didn’t want him to see me blush.
"I can’t deny I feel hopeful about this," Vanna broke in, sitting up in bed. "With Ebba’s help and the amulet, we have a chance of winning."
Ebba’s cheerful smile changed into an anxious expression.
"About that," I said. "Ebba and I talked. She’ll help us create a reverse for Jivar’s immortality, but this is the only magic she’s willing to do."
All Ebba ever wanted was a normal life. No matter how desperate I was for her help, I had to respect her wishes. To be honest, I felt remorseful. For so long, I had been judging Lú’s choices, but what did I know? Who was I to speak about her trauma or pass judgment without hearing her side of the story? I wanted to apologize to Ebba. No, I wanted to apologize to every person who, like her, was mutilated, abused, forced into marriage, or robbed of their powers.
"Ebba deserves a normal life." Vanna’s words surprised me. I was prepared for her to object.
"In this case..." I pulled the amulet out of my pocket and showed it to them. "I’ll be using this."
"Hell no," Kirby interrupted and took the amulet from me. "As long as you use Dark Magic, this will be locked up in Vanna’s drawer."
"I agree with Kirby," said Vanna, once again, surprising me. "You shouldn’t be using the amulet with Dark Magic."
Since when does she worry about Dark Magic?
There was something odd about Vanna that day, and it wasn’t the injury. Something happened to her back in the cave. What did the dark spirits tell her?
***
It was a long time ago, a time that felt like a faded memory or a scratched-up photo in which Vanna couldn’t make up the faces. She was infuriated when Lillian summoned her to Earth. She couldn’t care less about Jivar or what would happen to Earth if he was free, and she wanted to go home and save her only friend.
"What do you think of your new place, Vanna?" Lillian asked as the two took a seat on the yellow couch still swathed in plastic. It was Lillian who bought Kirby and Vanna their apartment. She wanted to make them feel welcomed.
"It’s colorful," Vanna said, dipping her chin to her chest. The odor of the fresh paint twisted her stomach.
Lillian let out a sigh. She pulled out her phone to show Vanna a picture. "These are my daughters, Tara and Echo. I told you about them before."
"Yes."
"Echo is three now. She just learned to count numbers." Lillian chortled then looked at Vanna with a serious expression. "These girls are my everything. I’d do anything for them. That’s why I’m going after Jivar, why I need your help."
"I understand."
Lillian frowned. Despite her best efforts to connect with Vanna, all she got were icy stares and short answers. Vanna was well-aware of that, but she wasn’t interested in making friends.
"Kirby told me about your friend," Lilian said. "Faith, right? I can’t imagine how hard it is to be forced to leave her behind." Lillian unbuttoned her jacket to show Vanna the amulet around her neck. "This is the Amulet of Divinity. It’s the most precious item I own."
"I’ve heard," Vanna said.
"Would you like to take it?" Lillian’s offer came as a surprise. "I’m willing to give it to you so you can save your friend, but first, help me defeat Jivar."
Vanna lowered her brows and lifted her chin with curiosity. "Since you summoned me, I’m bound to obey your orders. You don’t have to offer me anything."
"I don’t have to, but I want to." Lillian smiled. "I understand the need to protect the ones you care about, Vanna. So if you help me save my daughter, I’ll help you save your friend."
When Vanna came to the human world, she didn’t plan on staying long. To her, it was just a quest she had to finish. That was until Lillian earned her loyalty, not by her power, but through her devotion and graciousness.
The fight against Jivar became a cause Vanna undertook, and it lasted longer than expected. Vanna lost track of time, and time had never been her friend. Each passing day drew her closer to the dark side.
***
"Welcome home," we cheered. After spending two days in the hospital, Vanna was finally discharged.
"This is for you," Tara said as she gave her flowers.
"Thank you." Vanna took a seat on the living room couch. The doctor told me she might feel a bit dizzy after the blood transfusion. Although her wounds were stitched, they hadn’t fully healed. I prepared a potion for that.
We celebrated Vanna’s recovery by having a meal together. We played charades, joked around, and bonded. Grandpa taught Doyle how to play chess, and we took a group picture together—the first and only one.
At night, we sat in the living room, sipping on tea and munching on Tara’s cinnamon cookies. I don’t remember what led to that conversation, but it was my sister who asked, "What will you do after the war is over? When Jivar is dead and you’re all free."
We gaped at her.
"What?" she tittered. "None of you ever thought about the future? Don’t you have any plans?"
"I don’t even have a ‘pla.’" I quoted a joke from Friends. Tara rolled her eyes, so I gave her my silly grin.
"Stop it with the stupid smile." She covered my face with her hand. "You look like the Joker."
Everyone laughed, even Doyle, who most likely didn’t know who the Joker was.
"On a serious note, this can be a good exercise," I said. "Consider it a task. Each one of us has to write a list of ten things they want to do after the mission is over."
Tara raised an eyebrow. "You’re taking this seriously?"
"Yes, I am," I said with determination. "If we are going to win this war, we have to have the will to live. Let’s build up a passion for life and be high-spirited. Come on. It’s an easy exercise, we’ll all do it." I put up both thumbs.
"This is great, Sweetie," Grandpa said. "But I’m not going to war with you."
I raised my finger. "Grandpa, you’ll do this too, and your list should be completely selfish, things you want for yourself. ‘Echo getting married’ won’t count."
Grandpa chuckled. Things had been less tense between us since I was hospitalized. He apologized for how he had reacted when he found out I was a witch, and he told me he was proud.
I glanced at Vanna, who smiled, although she didn’t seem to be listening to the conversation. It looked like her mind had drifted away. I wondered what she would write on her list. What would the future look for Vanna, the Spirit of Light?
***
It had been almost two decades since Vanna came to Earth, but only twice did she think about the future or ask herself what she wanted to do. The first was the day she died.
The clock ticked, its arms approaching midnight. The night lamp shed a soft glow over the room where Vanna rested.
"Courage, Harmony, Perseverance," Kirby said. "How hard is it to think of a name?" He stomped his foot on the ground. As he sat at the edge of his sister’s bed, he pressed his hands to his temples.
"There’s no point in dwelling, Kirby," she said, sinking into her bed. "It’s the final hour."
"I refuse to believe this," he shouted. "For a year, you’ve fought by Lillian’s side. You killed Katarus and saved lives. You’re a hero. Who cares if you don’t have a name? It’s unfair for you to end up—" he stopped himself.
"To end up on the dark side?" Vanna finished his sentence. "Don’t worry, Brother. I have no regrets. No regrets but one." She peered at the word Faith carved on her wrist.
In the living room, Cona took a meditation posture. Fumes of sage and witch hazel roiled in the air, tickling her nose. "Speak to me, spirits. There must be a way to help her." Her voice penetrated the boundaries between our realm and that of the spirits.
"Rules are rules," they answered her. "The student has failed to find her name. Once she returns to the spirits world, she will be sent to the Land of Darkness."
"Rules are meant to be broken for someone like Vanna," Lillian interrupted, unabashedly yelling at the spirits. "She’s a warrior. Her life means a lot more than a name."
"Rules are rules," the spirits repeated. "Once she returns to the spirits world, she will be sent to the Land of Darkness."
"You can’t—" Lillian was about to lose it, but Cona gestured to her to stop talking.
"Thank you, spirits," Cona said. "We understand the rules. You’re now dismissed. Go in peace, blessed be."
"What did—"
"Shush." Cona pressed her finger to her lips. She waited until the spirits were gone before she came out of her posture and faced her friend. "Once Vanna returns to the spirits world, she’ll be sent to the Land of Darkness."
"I heard." Lillian couldn’t hide in her frustration.
"No, Lillian. You didn’t," Cona said while shaking her head. "Once Vanna returns to the spirits world, she’ll be sent to the Land of Darkness."
Lillian’s eyes widened when she understood what her friend said. "So if she doesn’t go back..."
"She’ll be a delinquent, an outlaw of the spirits world, but she’ll be safe."
"How about her health?" Lillian asked. "It’s deteriorating."
"She’s not sick, Lillian," Cona explained. "The powers of light are being sucked out of her body. She’s not dying. She’s becoming human."
***
"The choice is yours, Vanna," Lillian said.
"Why choose between the bad and the worse?" Vanna asked as she sat in her bed helplessly. "To either stay here and spend eternity as a purposeless, semi-human or go back to my world and be cast as a shadow."
"Try to look at the bright side," Lillian said in an upbeat tone. "You’re free, and you’re immortal. You can do anything you want. Travel the world. Climb every mountain. Have a life. "
Vanna gave a glassy expression that portrayed none of her thoughts.
"Please, Sister, stay." Kirby reached for her hand. "Stay for Lillian. Stay for me... I’m not ready to lose you." He teared up.
Vanna smiled softly. Eventually, she decided to stay, not just on Earth, but with her brother and friends. She never traveled the world, climbed mountains, or even left Oracles Island. Instead, she opened the pet store, took Aikido classes, and taught herself everything about magic in order to be of help. That was the future Vanna chose.
***
The chair smashed into pieces when Kirby threw it at the wall. "Why?" he cried out, his nostrils flaring. Dirt and dry blood covered his face. "Why did this have to happen?"
"I can’t believe this." Vanna let her body sag into the couch. "I can’t believe Lillian is gone."
Kirby fell to his knees and looked at his hands. The smell of the burned corpse never washed off. His heart hammered. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. "She had children. Echo and Tara. Who’s going to take care of them now? Who’s going to fight in Echo’s stead?"
"We will," Vanna said.
"How?" Kirby turned to her with a broken look. "I’m human now. We both lost our swords. We lost Lillian and the amulet. What do we have to offer?"
"Lillian is dead, but Echo is alive," Vanna replied. "She needs us to train her and teach her how to use her powers. Lillian would’ve wanted us to do this."
"Lillian wanted her daughter to have a normal life."
"Then we give her one," Vanna said, coming to her feet. "We watch over her until she’s old enough to begin her training." She kneeled in front of her brother and rested her hands on his shoulders. "We can do this, Kirby. We’ll do it for Lillian. We’ll do it for Echo and the mission."
"Sister, are you sure this is what you want?" Kirby asked.
"This is the only choice," she answered, and the future was settled.
***
Doyle dangled a knotted rope for Oscar to tug. He raised it, and the dog barked and jumped with excitement. "Here you go," he said as he threw the toy across the backyard so Oscar would fetch it.
"I see you two have become friends," I said. It was five-thirty in the morning, and I had just woken up and made myself a cup of coffee.
"I like animals. They are innocent and simple." A soft smile appeared on Doyle’s face. "We can learn a lot from them."
"I agree."
We sat down to watch the sun as it broke through the sky, casting its beams over the neighborhood. Oscar lay on my lap and let me glide my fingers along his fur.
I put the cup down after the last sip. "Did you write anything on your list?
"Not yet," Doyle replied.
"Me neither. I woke up early thinking the sunrise will inspire me," I said before an idea came to mind. "How about we write it together?"
"All right," Doyle said with a ‘why not’ attitude. I was hoping for a little more excitement. I opened a small notebook that I had brought with me and split a blank page into two lists.
"Where do we start?" he asked.
I shrugged. "You read a lot. Have you ever read about something you wanted to try?"
"Well..." He sank in thought. "I always wanted to ride a horse, ever since I read The Little White Horse."
"The Little White Horse?"
"It was the first book I’ve ever read," he said. His blue eyes gleamed as he thought about something dear to him.
"It’s decided, then." I wrote. "The first thing on my list: Read The Little White Horse."
Doyle chuckled. "You may find it a bit...ahh." He cleared his throat. "Just remember, it’s a children’s book. I was eight." His face grew red. "For the life of me, I can’t remember where I got that book."
It wasn’t hard to notice that Doyle had changed. His smile and posture were more relaxed than usual. He didn’t give his annoying, short answers. He even made me laugh. Brushing my hair behind my ears, I caught myself thinking of how cute he was. That side of him only came out when we were alone—I hoped it did.
"Your turn," he said when I stayed quiet for a long moment.
"Hmm." I covered my face behind the notebook. "In Grandpa’s room, there’s a painting of the waterfalls in Norway. I’ve been in love with that view all my life, and I’d love to travel there one day." I paused to write. "And dance."
"Dance?" he asked.
"I never dance. I hear it’s liberating." I rested my back on the grass and watched the clear sky. Inhaling, I filled my lungs with the fresh, crisp air of the spring. "I want to dance in front of the waterfalls."
"And I want to climb a mountain," he blurted.
"That sounds so tiring."
"I like to take on new challenges," he said, so I wrote it down in his list.
Doyle rested back, lying down beside me. Being near him, I realized I didn’t need to try too hard to find passion, for without knowing, I had grown passionate about him. At first, I thought it was sympathy I felt towards him, or maybe a childish infatuation. But it was neither. It was something different, something raw and innocent, safe and electrifying, reasonable and absolutely crazy. It was love in a way I never imagined before.
