“I’m jealous of them,” she said. “The students.”
I blinked. “Jealous?”
She nodded, then gave a small, brittle laugh. “Isn’t that ridiculous? I’m surrounded by color and wool and magic and… all I could think watching them today was,I need that, too.”
“Luna,” I started, confused. “But I’ve seen you work magic. At the battle, you—”
“Fundamentals,” she interrupted gently. “That’s all it was. Protection charms I learned as a girl, combined with a littlecharmed yarn. Bits of old spells my grandmother whispered into my braids while I knitted by the fire. Things that stuck.”
Her eyes dropped to the yarn in her hands. “I never studied. Never trained. My family, goddess bless them, made sure IknewI wasn’t gifted enough to waste resources on proper magical schooling. I was the practical one. The safe one. The one who made things with her hands and stayed behind.”
“But Luna,” I said, voice quiet, “what you did, what youdo,itismagic. And watching you that day at the cottage, weaving the traps with the yarn helped us win against Shadowick.”
She looked up at me with a sad sort of smile. “You know that. But I don’t. Not fully. Not like you do. Or Keegan. Or Nova or Bella. When I cast, it’s instinct. But when something deeper stirs, I don’t know what to do with it.”
“I know the feeling. I really do.” I stepped closer, leaning against the counter. “Why haven’t you mentioned anything before?”
“I didn’t want to take up space,” she admitted. “Not while you were rediscovering yours.”
I shook my head slowly, heart aching a little. “Youbelongin this. You always have.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed, her voice cracking a touch. “The students asked me to teach, Maeve. Not just the fiber arts. A few asked if I could enchant their shawls for protection or stitch warmth into a traveling cloak. I said yes because it feltright, but… I’m scared I won’t be enough. I feel as if I should be a student, not a teacher.”
Keegan returned then, hands in his coat pockets, and sensed something in our posture. He didn’t interrupt, just leaned against the counter.
I turned back to Luna.
“Then we’ll learn together,” I said. “You, me, the students. No hierarchy. No expectations. Just curiosity and care.”
Luna blinked once, and I caught the glassy sheen in her eyes before she gave a small, watery laugh. “I forgot how good you are at saying the thing someone needs.”
“I’m learning to listen better,” I said, smiling. “That helps.”
We stood together for a few moments longer as the last student peeked back in with a thank-you and a bright smile, their arms loaded with yarn and hope.
I looked at Luna. “I have a feeling that what you’re feeling is a pull to the Academy.”
“You do?”
I nodded.
Luna took a breath and said, “Maybe this is where I begin again.”
I touched her hand gently. “Maybe it always was.”
She smiled and looked as if a weight had been lifted. “Hope to see you around the Academy soon.”
“Absolutely.”
As we walked outside, the air was gentler than it had been earlier, softened by sunlight slipping through a patchwork of early spring clouds. The wind had stilled. The streets of Stonewick hummed quietly, like the town itself was content with the day’s turnout.
I exhaled. “She should be a student.”
He glanced sideways. “Luna?”
“She’s got the instinct. The feel. Shewantsit, even if she doesn’t know how to say it aloud.” I tucked my hands into the sleeves of my cloak. “She’s always belonged in the Academy, Keegan.”
“Sounds like someone I know,” he said.
