The sight of her there hit me so hard my knees almost gave out, and Ardetia’s hand closed gently around my elbow before I could sway.
I took a deep breath, centering myself as the decisions my mom made became more apparent with every step she took. Her eyes were clear, and she wore a thoughtful expression.
I glanced at Nova, who didn’t move. But I could see a focus in her gaze that I recognized.
The scene shifted slightly, drawing us closer as the Wilds came into better view.
My mother walked straight toward it.
For a moment, I thought I was only watching.
But then the feeling hit.
It slipped through me so suddenly that I drew in a sharp breath.
It was the moment she’d made the decision. The sensation wasn’t in words, exactly. It felt more like the shape of it was developing. A quiet certainty pressed against my chest as if I’d been standing beside her when she made the choice.
She had known what she was doing.
The realization settled heavily because there was no spell cast or dramatic lure from the Priestess.
I sensed fear building in my mom, but it wasn’t the kind that made her falter. This fear carried her; her choice had already been made.
And the longer I watched her move toward the Wilds, the more I felt the weight she had carried with her.
Stonewick was behind her, the Academy loomed in the background, and my dad and I were all there unknowingly pushing her into a decision she felt she had to make. I spotted Twobble waving frantically in panic as she dismissed his concerns.
Regret was the next emotion that swelled over me from her. I watched my mom slow a little and turn around, glancing back toward the Academy.
She wasn’t doubting the choice she made, but she was regretting the choices she’d made prior.
The cottage wasn’t visible from here, but I could feel the pull of it all the same. The warmth of the fire in the hearth. The quiet comfort of the life she had tried to build there.
“She chose this,” I heard myself say.
Nova stood beside me, her expression unreadable in the dim light of the Archive Hall.
“Yes,” she said quietly.
In the vision, my mother faced forward again, and the edge of the Wilds waited only a few steps away now. The lanky pines crowded together and stretched for the clouds while the maples acted like an umbrella, shading the underbrush and tangling with one another.
The moonlight could barely sprinkle through, and I felt the air shift the way it always did once you set foot into the Wilds.
And that’s when I felt it. Old magic. The magic that watched carefully, lurked, and waited patiently.
My mother felt it, and I sensed the recognition linger in her mind as she moved through the Wilds.
I watched her shoulders lift and lower with each quiet breath as she made her way through the woods.
She walked carefully, avoiding any trace of the mushrooms that hadn’t receded for fall, and with every step forward, something grew inside of her.
It wasn’t fear, though. It was acceptance.
It was as if she knew someone was waiting deeper in the Wilds, and she knew exactly where the path ahead led.
She was headed straight toward her mother, and yet, the knowledge didn’t slow her.
If anything, it steadied her, and that worried me.
