It was almost funny, in a way. Jane was supposed to be a once-in-a-generation phenomenon. Her teachers had called her an exceptionally rare magical force to be reckoned with. Yet here she was, plodding down a dirt road with worn-out feet.
For much of the journey, it had been possible for her to hitch rides without sullying the soles of her shoes. Closer to the capital, these rides were almost forced on her. Every fourth or fifth carriage had stopped to ask if she could use a lift. Now, her feet were the only thing she could truly count on to push herself down the road. And even those were starting to betray her, as mere soreness gave way to blisters.
Poor me… except I chose this. It isn’t time to complain this close to the edge of things, Jane. You’ll be excited soon enough.
The blisters were painful, but blisters were the first steps to callouses, and she’d need those if she was going to survive out here.
Her road wouldn’t and couldn’t walk itself. It was up to her.
Near the end of her journey, Jane was starting to realize just how few people really headed to a village nobody ever went to. She had never thought she would be heading here either, except as a stop on the ever-changing traveling schedule of an archmage. She had always expected to live in the capital half the time, and spend the other half taking a private coach to wherever she needed to go to solve problems.
I know magic. I know it forwards and backwards, up and down. I could have avoided this… but I don’t want to. I know this is right.
Jane stopped and took a deep, steadying breath.
Her own incredible magical aptitude had put her on a certain, very predetermined track when she was hardly old enough to know what that meant. For the next decade or so after that, she had moved from fun games meant to teach her the basics of the mystical world to legitimate studies of how to use magic. At this point, she was an archmage candidate, almost assuredly one who would actually manage to make it all the way to archmage.
It was an honorable position. In a world where most people possessed no magical ability whatsoever, and those who did were capable of rudimentary spellwork at best, archmages were held in high regard. To be one of the world’s great problem-solvers was certainly a noble path.
Yet it wasn’t the right path for Jane.
She wasn’t entirely sure when the first signs of burnout had appeared. Weariness and stress had been part of her life for so long that she’d accepted them as normal. Before she was even aware of the approaching cliff, she had tipped over the edge into a full breakdown.
Forced into rest, Jane had done a great deal of thinking. And all she could think about was her growing enchantment with the normal, non-magical world.
In this, she could pinpoint the moment of beginning. It had all started when she was at a bakery, tasting a piece of delicious cinnamon roll.
Suddenly, it had occurred to Jane that she knew nothing of how such a sweet treat was made. She'd asked the shop owner, and then kept asking questions about proof times, sugar levels, and all sorts of other probably stupid queries. Every answer contained a magic of its own.
After a while, Jane had realized she was having more fun than she’d had in months. All the depth of her magical knowledge and all the incredible power in the world couldn’t feed the parts of her that were hungry for something different.
She had thought of that cinnamon roll often during her convalescence. For the first time in her life, she had found herself trying to determine what she really wanted. The answer was simple.
I want a normal life.
So now, here she was, plodding down an ill-used dirt road with her shoes full of dust.
The countryside was beautiful, at least. The road had been built alongside a natural tree line, so that side smelt of pine and cedar. The other side was an open field dotted with flowers. Jane wondered why it wasn’t being used to grow crops, but she had to allow that she didn’t know the first thing about agriculture. She hadn’t been expected to, before.
The next crossroad came by surprise. Cutting out of the trees, the forest road hit her tree line path suddenly, like it had burst into existence in a single moment. As deep into the monotonous, mesmerizing rhythm of the road as she was, the fact that there was an actual honest-to-goodness wagon sitting at the t-shaped intersection shocked her almost out of her very dirty shoes.
“Hi there, young lady.” The elderly woman holding the reins waved a hand in greeting and gave Jane a thorough once-over. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you look half-dead.”
Jane winced slightly. Zoned out, she hadn’t noticed how fast her fatigue had continued to accumulate. Back in the real world, she realized she was about ready to collapse.
“I suppose that’s right. There’s nothing for it, though. I can’t very well sleep by the side of the road, can I?”
“Oh, sure you could.” The old woman laughed. “I’ve done it plenty of times. The hunters don’t let anything dangerous stay around here for very long, and nobody would bother you. Although I suppose it does look a little like rain. Could I offer you a ride?”
“I’d appreciate it.” Jane would. From the bottom of her heart and the very core of every joint, she would have been thankful to this woman until the day she died for even a minute of sitting in her wagon. “The only problem is that I’m pretty close to my destination. You’d have to be headed straight to the village of Glenfall to do me any good.”
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“That’s no problem then, because I am.” The woman patted the seat next to her on the wagon. “Climb on up! I’ll get you there in no time at all.”
“Really?” Jane asked, already clambering into the seat. Supposed genius that she was, it had never occurred to her that she would reach a point where all the traffic on the roads was either coming from or going towards Glenfall. “I thought nobody actually ever went there.”
“Oh? That’s funny. Plenty of people do. Who told you they didn’t?”
“My aunt. A woman named Cecelia.”
“Oh, her.” The woman gave Jane a more assessing look. “I remember when she blew through. Interesting times, those. I doubt she said things exactly that way though, no offense to your memory of it.”
“Hm.” Jane fished in her pocket, ignoring her almost-depleted stock of coins in favor of a much-folded envelope her aunt had sent her when she was still confined to bed. “Let me check.”
My Most Beloved Jane,
If I speak truthfully, I was both distressed and elated to hear of your troubles. My distress came from learning that you had been living a life that didn’t satisfy you. The kind of work we do is an excellent fit for me, but I am not offended if you don’t feel it right to follow in my footsteps.
Let me be very clear: what I want for you is to find work that is the same excellent fit, and nothing else.
My elation, of course, came from knowing that you had already worked out the bulk of the problem yourself, complete with a solution. Nothing would please me more than your happiness and safety. Therefore, I have bent myself fully towards helping your plan succeed, and every resource I can harness is at your command.
I am currently unable to rush to your side. I swear on my spellbooks that I would if I were able. As things stand, I have explained things to your professors at the academy, at least to the extent they needed to know. You have been granted leave with no timer. If you ever wish to return, you shall. If you never do, you won’t.
Some time ago, I rendered aid to the village of Glenfall, a mountain place a substantial distance from the capital. In return, they gifted me a cottage, one that I haven’t had the foggiest idea of what to do with until now. I gift it to you, wholly, and pray you find happiness there.
Please do research your travel plans well before leaving. As far as I know, almost no one from the capital ever travels directly to Glenfall. Take care you don’t get lost, and I will try to have a letter waiting for you when you arrive at the cottage.
Your aunt,
Cecelia
P.S. Do remember, dear, that there are certain expectations of magic-users, both social and official. I advise you to keep your own capabilities under wraps for as long as you can.
In the same envelope, almost as an afterthought, had been another note. Jane was careful not to take it out. She didn’t need to. She could have recited its contents off the top of her head.
One last thing. Since leaving Glenfall, I’ve had a gnawing suspicion that I missed something there, somehow. Something in the magic in the air, perhaps, that I only noticed on a less than conscious level. It might be nothing, but I’ve learned to respect suspicions of this sort.
Keep an eye out on my behalf, dear. If you find what I missed, do your best to correct it. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle whatever it turns out to be.
It was an ominous sort of note, whether her aunt intended it to be or not. Jane had a mind to take it seriously, though she wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Watch and wait, I guess, she mused.
In any case, she had truly misread what her aunt said about traffic to Glenfall, and was now afraid she might have insulted the nice woman giving her a ride. She did her best to start fixing that.
“Ooof,” Jane said. “I suppose she didn’t say nobody goes there. I’m afraid my aunt and I both consider the capital to be sort of the center of everything.”
“That’s not so far off, dear. It really is, in most ways. Glenfall is an important place, in its way, but any business that reaches from us to the capital goes through several other cities first. It’s the way of things.” The old woman looked down at Jane’s feet and winced. “It looks like those need to be cleaned and soaked, young lady. I’m stopping this wagon and getting you a bucket of water. Take those shoes off while I do.”
“I can’t subject you to that. I’ve been walking all day.”
“Young woman, I am seventy years old.” The old woman laughed in a bright, cheery, rural sort of way. Jane found she quite liked it. “I can assure you this will not be my first time having to smell a tired foot.”
Of course, magical solutions to the problem of a sore, dirty foot existed. Jane could have cooled and cleaned it with a mere thought and a word, but she hadn’t done so on this trip. She couldn’t risk performing magic in the open like that.
Though her aunt was a bit flighty, she was right on this matter. Archmages had responsibilities. Once people knew Jane was an archmage candidate, they would look at her differently. All chance of the normal life she desired would be gone.
Dealing with pain in her body for a time was a small price to pay for the chance to be just a human being for a while.
When Jane finally dipped her feet in the water, the relief was so great that she almost cried.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it? I have a real nice well at home I get the water from. It’s been good and blessed over the years, and in my book, there’s nothing quite like it. Now, let’s talk about your aunt’s cottage.”
“You know it?”
“I do. I’m afraid things might be a little different than you expect them to be. That’s a working property, I believe.”
“I’m sorry. I’m from the capital. I don’t think I know that phrase.”
“Ah, right. Of course.” The old woman bopped herself lightly on the forehead. “That’s like me to forget. Glenfall is a special village, but we don’t have as much room for buildings as you’d imagine. You’ll see why once you get there. Some properties are working ones, designated that way by the town. You can live there, just like a house, but you have to put them to some kind of use.”
“I… hmm.” Jane had exactly one set of developed skills, and they were magical in a way she hoped to keep under her hat during her time at the village. “That might be a problem. I’m not good at much.”
“Oh, you don’t have to be. The council isn’t going to be too picky about what happens with a cottage they’ve let sit vacant for years and years, especially when a young lady needs it for housing. They’ll probably expect you to at least try your hand at some things, but they won’t hold it against you if you fail.”
“Hmm. What was the cottage used for before? The last time it was at work, I mean.”
“A bakery. One of the best in town.”
Jane considered that. It would be interesting to do something besides magic, and her whole journey had started with a cinnamon roll in a bakery. There was something fitting in becoming a baker herself. The idea of doing something meaningful with her own two hands even brought a smile to her face. Thinking about making real things in the real world was thrilling in a way she didn’t quite expect.
Of course, I might be hopeless at baking, but I don’t see why I can’t at least give it a try…
Lost in thoughts of fresh food taken straight from a hot oven, Jane rode with the woman wordlessly for a few more minutes.
“I’m Patty, by the way,” the old woman said.
Jane dipped her head. “Jane. Pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s just this last rise, and then you’ll be able to see Glenfall. Fair warning, it’s quite the thing,” Patty told her.
It was. Jane had read up a bit on the village, and had even seen some sketches of it. She thought she knew what to expect, especially having seen so many small towns on her way here.
Yet as the village spread out before her, she found she couldn’t have been more wrong.