Chapter 17

The next day, Elaine poured water on the morning fire after everyone had had their breakfast. She could not look Margaret in the eye. She slowly packed her knapsack, torn and dirty from her many adventures. Her heart felt a bit like that knapsack, and she longed to simply soak in a great bath and wash everything away. As she pulled it over her shoulder, she said, "I'm sorry."

Margaret shook her head. "Don't be sorry. You've got to look out for yourself." Although it could have been there, there was not a hint of reproach, not the barest mention of being selfish, which made Elaine feel even worse. 

Elaine did not know what to say; it was more than looking out for herself. As she thought about what she had seen in the mirror, she thought that perhaps it was for the best. She was only one person. She could not fight against the things she had seen in the mirror, could not help the entire kingdom. The pressure of doing so pushed her down into the ground so much that she felt as if she succumbed to it, she could never rise again. 

She lowered herself down to pet Renard, who was in his fox form. 

"I'll miss you," she said. "Thank you for all you showed me, for all that you taught me, even though you almost let me drown, get strangled by vines, attacked by pixies, eaten by trees, and kidnapped by thieves." She grinned to show him she was joking. Mostly. She stroked his silky fur one last time. Tears began to well in her eyes.

"You're welcome. Thank you for always finding the worst fruit imaginable in the forest and building the weakest fires I've ever seen," he responded. 

Elaine snapped her fingers and a small flame appeared. "Be careful, I know how to build bigger fires now," she said. 

"Apparently not," said Renard sadly. "You could build the biggest fire the world has ever seen, but you're afraid to let it burn." 

The guilt twisted Elaine's stomach. 

"But don't worry, this is not goodbye," he said. "We'll see each other much sooner than you think."

Elaine paused, puzzled over his reply. But she could not dwell on it too long. She was ready to go. It was time. She turned to Margaret. "Thank you for all that you taught me as well. I'm not the same as I once was."

They embraced. Margaret cupped her face in her hands. "Oh my child, you are so much braver than you realize. You're so much stronger, so much more powerful. Keep practicing all that I have taught you. You will need it in the coming days."

Margaret did not beg her to stay. She did not plead for Elaine to keep going, for she knew that each person must make their own decisions. She could not force Elaine to help any more than she could make Renard into a swan. 

Elaine was crying. "I'm sorry I could not be more," she said.

"You are enough," said Margaret. "You just need to remember that. Now, go. Go home. Rest. You will find your path. The fight will always be here."

The fight will always be here. 

How haunting those words. It made it seem like no matter what Elaine did, no matter how much magic she studied, or spells she cast, or how hard she fought, the kingdom's reign would never end. 

They let go of each other. Elaine slung her knapsack over her shoulder. There was nothing more to say. 

Elaine felt the flow of magic so easily now. It was as simple as reaching out to slip her fingers through a flowing river. She felt the vibration in her stomach rise up, flow down into her feet. Slowly, she lifted into the air. She would never tire of this feeling, of rising beyond the chains of gravity, of the fluttering in her stomach, and the freedom of the sky. She lifted beyond the trees, and turned west, in the direction of her village. 

The great forest spread out like a blanket before her, the tops of the trees different shades of sage and emerald. As she flew, she passed by all that she had encountered along the way. She saw the smoke from the fires of the thieves' campsite; she saw the bright purple fruit of the carnivorous trees and flew just a bit higher; she saw the grove of stones where the pixies had found her and led her away to the cave. Each place she passed reminded her of her first lessons of magic, that would stay with her forever. The forest did not seem so imposing. It was still gigantic; flying high above it, Elaine was still awed by its gargantuan size. But it did not seem out to kill her. All the beasts and creatures that she could possibly find inside it did not frighten her so much anymore. She had seen some of the worst things imaginable, and she was still alive. That was enough.

A journey of days only took a few hours by flight. Elaine made the journey longer by sheer joy of flying. She raced up into the clouds, zoomed in and out through the cold, fluffy masses. Up here, they were so bright and shockingly white that her eyes nearly hurt from looking at them. Here was Cloud Country; clouds formed masses of buildings, houses, fields all their own. She had scarcely imagined such a place could exist. Up here, nothing could touch her. She knew that when she returned to the earth, all her heavy problems would be there to weigh her down.

She slowly descended, back to where she knew her family was waiting. 

*

Elaine wanted to walk the last few miles. She wanted to reflect on all that she had learned. 

Magic is simply the change of energy. All you must do is desire something so greatly and expect it to happen. Magic comes from within. 

A small bug scurried across her path. Elaine smiled.

And above all, do no harm.

As Elaine walked back into the village, she was comforted by the sight of smoke rising from dozens of chimneys, lights strung around trees for the winter holidays, their light spilling onto the snow in glitter and gold. Yet, something had changed about the place. It seemed smaller, more compact, as though it were merely a trading post or outlying base, not an entire village. She wondered how she did not sometimes become suffocated by it. Still, it was home, and it was the thing she knew and loved best. She didn't have to be a hero here. She did not have to face demons or dragons or mirrors here. All she had to do was step through the door to her parents' house. 

Which she did. 

"Elaine!" Her mother cried out, rising from her chair, where she had been knitting a blanket. "Harold, come quickly, Elaine has returned!"

Elaine heard the rough scrap of a wooden chair across the floor, as her father bustled about in the back room. Daniel came zooming through the doorway shouting, "Elaine's back! Elaine's back!"

How she loved them so much and missed them all terribly. She didn't realize how much she had missed them until this moment. It was like something in her heart was torn, and now had been stitched back together. 

But there were pains to this moment that she did not realize would come. Her mother looked older, even only after a few months. She had more wisps of white in her hair, more wrinkles about her eyes and mouth. She did not move quite as quickly. 

When her father entered, he began to cry, in his soft, silent way. When he wrapped his arms around her, it was only then that she felt truly at home. 

"You're safe at last," he whispered. 

Elaine was not sure of that. She was not sure if any of them would ever be safe, not after what Margaret had showed her and told her. Even so, tears filled her eyes. It felt so good to be home, to smell the rich smell of home that was the same, no matter how many years have passed. It felt so good to run her hands along the tablecloth, feel her father's woodwork in the cabinets, touch the ovens, her fingers remembering how to shape and mold dough. 

She was so happy.

Then why is my heart so heavy? She thought. 

Elaine had thought her trials were over. She thought that coming home would be a relief. And it was a relief, a huge weight off her tiny shoulders. The fate of the kingdom was not with her. She would live secretly, quietly, with her parents. Then why did she have this feeling that there was something that she must finish? Something that was not quite completed, that dug into her soul, like a splinter in her thumb. 

*

The next morning was one of the best mornings in her life. She awoke to the smell of eggs and mushrooms frying in butter, fresh bread being toasted over the fire, and a crock of coffee brewing. The light streaming into her window had never looked as beautiful as it did this morning. 

As she ate with her family, she made up her mind. She had spent enough time procrastinating.

"I'm going to see Zachary this afternoon," she said. 

Her parents exchanged a look that was unfathomable to her. 

"He should still be in the same apprentice shop," said her father, lifting a cup of coffee to his lips, not meeting her eyes. 

She took a last bite of toast, threw on her cloak, and left the house.  Her boots crunched over the white snow, and she walked quickly to where Zachary always worked. When she was close, she heard laughter outside the door. She pushed it open and walked inside. 

She saw Zachary, bent over his famous lace. His face was frozen in concentration, and she recognized the steely look whenever he was almost finished with a project. But Elaine also saw a village girl standing close to him, with one arm thrown over his shoulder. She was giggling over something he had said, and their posture suggested something more than friends.

It was funny; when she was gone, she had unconsciously expected everything to be the same when she returned. To a large extent, that was true: her father still had the same burly laugh, her mother still swatted her hand when she tried to take a bite of the freshly churned butter before it was ready, and her little brother still got into her hair more often than not. 

But there were small changes: a fixed fence, the wood freshly chopped and bright brown, instead of gray and rotted; a new path leading to the market, its stones gleaming with an untrodden luster; people had made new friends. So many small changes accumulated like the snow on the roofs. 

Elaine shut the door quietly. She would talk to Zachary later. If he wanted to.

As she walked around the village, she was astounded to see how small it seemed. When did the houses become so small? When did the market only extend so far? Even the small chapel that had once seemed so imposing now seemed like an old man, bent over and shrunken with age.

As she greeted all her old friends and acquaintances, her heart felt light, like a feather floating in the wind. Here was where she belonged. She felt like the last puzzle piece that fit perfectly and completed the creation. But with each face, each hug and handshake, she felt sad. As she walked along all the familiar paths, flowed along with the river of people in her village, she felt utterly alone. No one else had experienced what she had. No one else had seen the things she did. How could she go back and return as if everything was normal?

It will be normal, she told herself firmly. It will just take some time. 

Little did Elaine know, that time was not on her side.