Chapter Five

I rubbed my eyes again, thinking my tiredness was playing tricks on my eyes, but it wasn't. The sky was decorated by an empire of stars, clusters and constellations emitting a powerful, twinkly light. The stars highlighted the night sky's navy canvas and eventually framed the half-moon that seemed to hand idly in the atmosphere.

In the city, the light pollution drowned out the light of the stars. Occasionally from the balcony window, I could see one or two stars, and even then, it was a passing satellite. My mother had told me the stars were an extraordinary sight in the city, that if you could find one, it was your guardian angel reminding you they were there.

I learned quickly that it was just a story.

"What do you think?" Aine asked.

"It's beautiful," I marvelled as I leant out the window, trying to see the stars that were over the cottage, but I couldn't see.

"Theodore doesn't lock doors," Odina informed.

"Why not go out into the fields to have a look?" Rodella added.

"You'll be able to see the whole night sky that way!" Aine crooned as she excitedly looped in the air. "May even see some nocturnal sprites."

I sucked in my lips in thought before nodding, pushing myself to the edge of my bed and searching my room quickly for shoes. I had yet to be given any or find any.

I ran to my door and peered out to the hallway. I couldn't see Gaelle or Theodore. I slowly creeped out of my room, making it to the top of the stairs without disturbing anyone. When I looked down the stairs, there weren't any lights on. The house seemed asleep.

Odina and Rodella followed behind me, offering a light green glow to guide me down the stairs and to the front door. I took a glance at the kitchen and the living room. I couldn't hear anyone's heartbeat or feel anyone's presence, so I approached the door. The door handle was unnaturally cold against my palm as I turned the knob, the lock giving way and allowing me to open it. The green sprites disappeared out the door when they could fit; I lingered in the shadow of the door, staring at the white light that inched closer and closer to my feet as I slowly opened it.

I slipped through the door and closed it behind me with a quiet click. The farmland had been warm and open during the day, but it was an awe-inspiring, majestic area at night. The grass and trees were coated in glittery dew, the air was a clean, refreshing cold against my skin, sobering up any trace of my tiredness as I walked down the dirt path. When I felt the dirt under my feet, the four fairies joined me as I ventured past where Theodore had teleported us to and to the half brick wall that made the fence separating the country road from the front yard.

A small metal gate was in the middle of the bricks, and if I were alone would have been difficult to unlock, but Odina and Rodella swiftly unlocked the gate for me and pulled it open for me to go through. Aine and Aerwyna grabbed my hands by the fingertips, gently urging me out onto the road and to the field.

*

I watched Anya walk down the pathway, the four little balls of colour floating around her head as they guided her to the front yard.

"Interesting…" I breathed, folding my arms.

Gaelle peered out the window next to me, watching Anya stand by the front gate and look both ways before crossing the road. She seemed to be heading to the field beyond. "I'm going to see what she's up to," I informed, looking to Gaelle. Since dinner, she had changed into her own nightgown and detangled her extravagant hair. Despite her clothes, I don't think I've ever seen Gaelle sleep.

I turned from the window and marched down the stairs, warping to the front door to grab my coat, but Gaelle had somehow beat me to it, holding my jacket out for me to put on. I smirked down at her as I flicked my jacket over my shoulders; when I turned back, she held out a blanket for me to take. I smirked as I took it, "You always seem one step ahead, Gaelle," I stated as I grabbed the doorknob and disappeared outside after Anya.

*

The fairies had wanted me to go across the whole field and to the forest on the other side. But I decided against it, not wanting to go beyond the sight of the cottage. I sat down in the long grass a few yards into the field, hugging my knees for warmth on a chilly night as I looked up to the endless number of stars.

I wanted to sit and think.

I had given up my right as an individual only this morning, was auctioned off to a mage, became a mage's apprentice and potentially angered him all in one day. I was moved from the city, from family, from a life I had gotten used to, and got taken to the countryside of England under the instruction and ownership of someone I had only know half a day. And yet felt safer with than anyone I had lived with for the past four years.

My world had been flipped upside down in the span of a few hours. Someone had finally given my problem a name and didn't even see it as a problem. Factorum Magica.

The fields felt empty. Aside from the occasional scurry of critters weaving their way through the grass, I couldn't sense anything living around me. When I felt something wrap around my shoulders, I gasped and jumped away, only realising it was Theodore behind me with a blanket. "Didn't mean to scare you," he chuckled as he sat down in the grass.

I sighed with relief and shuffled back to my spot beside him, "I didn't hear you coming."

Theodore replaced the blanket around my shoulders. I grabbed its edges and held them close, silently thankful for the blanket against the cold breeze. "I saw you leave the cottage. I thought you may be trying to run away."

I found it strange how wrong he was to think that. It hadn't occurred to me to flee the cottage, run to a neighbouring house and ask for help. I only came outside for the sole reason to look at the stars after the fairies pointed them out. "The stars look different out here," I commented, looking up to the sparkly diamonds.

"They are pretty, aren't they?" he agreed as he laid down on the grass, resting his head against his arm. After a moment, I copied, the sides of his coat brushing against my arm as we stargazed. "Do you know much about stars?" he asked.

I shrugged, "Not particularly."

"You know about constellations?" He turned his head to face me. Even at night time, his eyes glowed.

"You mean like the Big Dipper?" I remembered hearing about them passing in the classroom, but I had never seen it in real life.

"Among others." His attention returned to the sky, lifting his free arm to point at specific groupings. "Even out here, you can tell the difference between a constellation and just a lucky star. Can you find the swan?" His hand was still pointed out, so I shuffled closer to his shoulder, soon almost lying on him, as I followed his pointed finger to see where I was supposed to look.

There was a very subtle light difference between the constellation and lucky stars, but a line of stars glowed brighter than others, forming a clear picture. "I think I see it."

I felt his chest shake when he chuckled as he grabbed my hand and pointed it out for me. "That's the tip of its beak, then it goes down its neck and forms the body."

I could see it a bit clearer but frowned. "Are its wings open?"

Theodore nodded. I got excited when I could see it fully. His chest droned again as he laughed. He was warm against my cheek as I rested against him. He didn't seem to mind as he dropped his hand. "My favourite part about stars is the stories people have made about them."

Theodore's favourite was about a pair called Pharton and Cycnus. The swan, Greek name Cygnus, depicted a tale of two friends who were racing each other across the sky when they came too close to the sun, and their chariots burnt up and fell to Earth. Cycnus survived, and after looking for his friend Phaeton, he discovered his dead body trapped at the bottom of the Eridanus River. Unable to recover the body, he made a pact with the Zeus, God of lightning and King of Mount Olympus, that if God gave him the body of a swan, he would only live for as long as a swan does. Once transformed, Cycnus was able to dive into the river, retrieve Phaeton's body and give his friend a proper burial, thus allowing him to travel to the afterlife.

"Why is the swan in the sky then?" I wondered.

"Zeus was moved by Cycnus' sacrifice and placed his image in the sky, as a tribute and means of reminding everyone of how powerful their friendship was." The swan reflected off his eyes. For an odd moment, I thought I could see the story projecting behind them. When he blinked, the swan disappeared, and he looked at me. "That's only one depiction, though. There are dozens of stories explaining the shapes of the stars."

"But that one's your favourite?" I pried, looking at the stick figure swan.

"It's one that I like," he confessed, turning back to the stars.

I lifted my head off his chest and laid back on the grass, attempting to find more of the hidden stories in the stars. Before I could find one, Theodore apologised, "I'm sorry I left you at dinner. I just haven't heard that name in a while."

I pursed my lips, sensing he had more to say. "She was a dear friend to me. Losing her was just difficult." He rested his arm over his eyes and sighed, "I hadn't even thought of her in years. It was just surprising that you mentioned her." He scratched at his face as he asked, "How did you find out about her?"

"The fairies," I answered.

His tongue made a clicking noise. "Of course…" he heaved another sigh, "Eloise was just a lot of firsts for me. She was warm, and far too kind, and beautiful, and selfless and-" He cut himself off and looked at me as if he forgot I was the one he was speaking to. He scoffed at himself, "I'm sorry, you're not the one I should be discussing her about," he said, looking back up to the sky, "At least not now."

I bit the inside of my cheeks. I never understood why adults did that, began telling me things and then stopping because of my age. But Theodore had this relaxed but low-spirited smile resting on his face, a content moment too complex for me to fully understand. I altered what I was going to say: "It sounds like you really liked her." I, too, looked back to the stars.

Theodore released a small laugh as he agreed, "Yes… I did umm… really like her."

I blushed. Did I emphasise the wrong word?

"Am I allowed to ask what happened to her?" I asked. I focused on a small dull star next to the head of the swan.

He didn't answer for a moment, his face turning stony as he thought. "Perhaps I'll tell you someday," he said, "But… please, not right now."

His face remained expressionless until the twinkle returned to his eye, and a genuine smile formed, "I promise. Then we'll both be ready to talk about it."

Both? I mused with the phrasing for a while. But the silence that dwelled between us stretched for too long for me to bring up again. The subject had passed.

I was more curious about Eloise now, about the other apprentices even, and now I was interested in knowing more about Theodore, about the man who decided to buy a broken human girl and make them their apprentice. But what he said, while vague, seemed very personal to him, and he had promised to tell me more in the future. I didn't want him to feel like I wasn't willing to talk about something personal.

"My mother killed herself when I was eight years old," I blurted out. Once the words left my mouth, the whole world seemed silent. The breeze ceased, all critters stopped rustling, and even my heartbeat slowed as I finally voiced this. I rolled on my side and tucked my knees close to my chest; Theodore had rolled on his side and watched me intently, waiting patiently for me to continue. "She… told me that I was a mistake, but that… none of this was my fault." It was hard to admit this. It felt like the moment I say it out loud was the moment it becomes real. "Then she told me she loved me and stepped off the balcony…"

I was playing with a strange rabbit plushie in our apartment, it was the middle of a hot day, so the balcony doors were open to let some air in. I had been sent home from school early that day due to 'unexplained occurrences.' My mother sat on the lounge, head in her hands like she did when in deep thought.

Then without a word, she stood up, walked past me to the balcony, stood before the railing and said to me, in a calming tone as if she was telling me, 'everything is alright,' "You're the biggest mistake of my life, An. But you're not something I regret. Please know that none of this is your fault." Despite her tranquil tone, I could sense her heartbeat; erratic, and frightened, and tears started trailing down her cheeks. Her cool-headed expression began to crack, her lips quivering as if what she had to say was hard for her. "I can't do this to you anymore."

I was too young to fully comprehend what that meant or what it was leading to. But I was hurt and stood up to hug her. "Mummy?" I ran up to her and clutched her front. I felt her hands rest on my back. I didn't know what she would do, but I felt the desperate need to hold her.

"An, please…" she faltered. I felt her hand rest on my head as the other pulled me off her. She kneeled to me, holding my face in her hands, "Be a brave girl, An. Be my brave girl," she whispered as she planted a kiss on my forehead, leaving behind a warm tingle. "I love you."

I smiled happily at Mother because I didn't sense what was going to happen next. "I love you too." I held one of her hands and looked up to her, "Did I do something wrong, Mum?"

She looked over my shoulder, looking somewhat overwhelmed as she rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. "You should take better care of your toys, An. Mr Bun shouldn't just be lying on the floor."

I turned around to see my bunny plushie where I left it on the ground. I walked back into the apartment to retrieve it. When I turned back to Mother, she was gone.

I stood alone in the apartment, staring out the doors. People in flats over the road screamed, some running to their balconies to peer down at something. That was the first time I had truly experienced shock. As I took small steps towards the railing, my heartbeat dominated my hearing, drowning out the loud thump I heard and the car horns and squeals that followed. I held my rabbit and climbed onto a lawn chair to look down at where my mother was.

Moments later, the wind carried my rabbit as it fell after my mother.

I surprised myself how passive I felt about what happened to my mother.

Theodore reached his hand out and ran his thumb over my cheeks. I realised I was crying. Perhaps I wasn't so passive to what happened to Mother after all.

"That must've been hard on you," Theodore murmured.

"I didn't understand what happened until I was ten," I explained, "By then, relatives fought over me but ignored me when they got me." I rolled onto my back, my breathing shaky as I continued, "I bounced around from family member to family member, foster care to foster care, while social workers negotiated with my Father."

Theodore lifted his head; in the corner of my eyes, I saw his eyes visibly glow. "Negotiated?"

"My older brother is on the spectrum, so my Father made the argument he couldn't take care of two challenged kids by himself," I said, "At the time, they couldn't give a name to what was wrong with me. I was far too young for it to be written off as schizophrenia or dementia, and nothing was popping up in brain scans or anything." I looked at my hands against the starlight and sighed, "They were negotiating with my Father about taking both of us. But he ran away from me."

Theodore's eyes burned an angered red, but his voice remained level. "Why did they think there was something wrong with you?"

I sucked in my cheeks as I recalled, "I had psychologists try and explain it to me; 'Your Mother didn't teach you the difference between reality and fantasy. What you're claiming to see is no longer socially acceptable.'"

"But I'm not crazy," I assured them, "I've seen these things all my life. They're everywhere!"

"Antionette-"

"No! I'm not making this up! They're real!"

"For a while, I believed what people told me. I stopped talking about it, ignoring when the delusions spoke to me or when I saw them until gradually they turned into nothing more than blurs." The stars started mixing with the navy sky. My eyes were tearing up again, so I rubbed away with the mistiness. "But no matter what I did, they were always there, and they always wanted to talk to me." My hands screwed into fists, "And when I ignored them, they would retaliate, cause these impossible situations that I was always in the centre of."

"I hope you realise there's nothing wrong with you," Theodore said.

I shrugged. "I wouldn't have auctioned myself off if I didn't think there was something wrong with me," I informed. I sniffed as I composed myself, even managed a laugh, "It turned out my mother had left me a lot of money that even my father wasn't even allowed to touch. That's why relatives were so eager to get a hold of me. But soon, I had scared them all off. Each one considering sending me to an orphanage but having the rights to me so that one day they could take the money."

It was heartbreaking to put two and two together. By this point, I had started running away from them, locking myself away from every interaction with them as possible, which they were more than happy to do. I grew to hate them. To loathe my aunties, my uncles, my cousins, my family. More unexplained things happened to them, things I couldn't control, and worse, ones that I had far too much control in. I started hating myself.

Other kids started noticing how strange I was and how I didn't talk to anyone or play with anyone. I couldn't escape the insults anywhere anymore.

"And then out of nowhere, that man came…"

I fiddled with the padlock to the rooftop as I looked down to the school grounds. The lock itself wasn't difficult to break, but I knew I had to get rid of it before one of the teachers found me with it.

But for now, I wanted to be alone.

I went to the rooftop to hide from the other kids. I didn't have the emotional strength to endure whatever they wanted to tease me about. Since the roof was locked, no one thinks it's possible to get up to the roof. I was expecting to be alone for all of lunch.

I wasn't in the best headspace today. The rooftop had a tall wire fence along the edge for safety reasons, but I felt the strong urge to climb over it and leap off the building. I stood inches from the fencing and weaved my fingers through the gaps.

"Lovely view this."

The sudden voice scared me as I looked over my shoulder. The man stood less than a meter behind me, looking over my short head to look out to the city. I didn't hear him come up. "Are you real?" I asked.

He looked like an average person. I guessed maybe he was a substitute teacher I hadn't met yet, because he was dressed in a suit but had distinctly long, black hair tied back in a ponytail. He held a hand out to shake, "Yes, child. I am very much real."

I blinked at the gesture, cautious about it for a moment, before firmly taking it. "You aren't a teacher, are you?"

He chuckled, his grip on my hand getting tighter. "No. I'm not." He shook my hand longer than any adult had ever shaken my hand before. The longer it lasted, the weaker I felt. "I have a proposition for you, girlie."

Theodore's cinnamon scent yanked me from that memory as he pulled me closer to him. The gesture startled me at first, but I realised I was sobbing, and Theodore was trying to comfort me. I felt his fingers run through my hair as he shushed me. "Thank you for telling me that," he whispered against the top of my head, "I can tell that was difficult."

Once I started, I couldn't stop crying against his shirt. My hands grabbed fistfuls of his coat. I couldn't release my clenched jaw as I tried desperately to stop. My throat started hurting, and every breath of air burnt my lungs. "I'm not crying…" I hissed.

I felt his chin rest on my head. "I know you're not."

I felt his hand spread out on my back; a second later, a strange pulsing feeling formed in the centre of his palm. I didn't lift my head from his chest as I asked, "What're you doing?" I croaked.

"Just something to help you relax," he assured. The pulses became warm as they spread through my back and formed in my chest, my throbbing heart unchanged while my muscles and skin started to tingle and ache. I saw a blue glow behind me reflecting off Theodore's black coat on the edges of my sight. "I'm just making you tired," he explained as he lifted his hand. There was a strange tug with his hand as if he was pulling something out of me. When there was a disconnect, a wave of exhaustion filled me as I huffed against his side. He pulled his arm from behind me and showed off what was in the palm of his hand; a ball of blue light, perhaps a flame.

"What… is that?" It became difficult to talk and even harder to pay attention.

"You."

Energy made a strange whistling sound like it was still alive. I could scarcely keep my eyes open. The light began to blur against his coat, colours faded in and out of my vision, but I watched as Theodore pressed the light against his chest, my energy disappearing within him.

I felt the cold grass against my cheek as I let my eyes close. A moment later, I was picked up, and the next thing I knew, I was back in my bed with the glow of the night casting on my face.

*

Anya was much lighter than I anticipated when I picked her up. Her eyes occasionally opened, but I knew her tired mind wasn't registering anything. Her lips parted, and airy whispers managed to escape. Otherwise, she was silent. Her tiny fingers found the button of my jacket and weakly pulled against it, her nails running over the small cracks in the plastic. I crossed the dirt road, her mumbles disappearing and walked to the front door, where she fell asleep completely.

Gaelle was standing in the shadow of the door, opening it when I approached and closing it behind me.

"I had to sap her," I said when Gaelle stared confused at my apprentice. "She worked herself up." I held her tighter as I searched my coat, "Before I forget," I pulled a book from the flap of my jacket and handed it to Gaelle. "While she was asleep this afternoon, I managed to get a hold of this. It's a photo album." I watched Gaelle flick through the thick pages, examining the photos within it.

There was only a handful of Anya by herself. There were several where she was dressed in Sunday best with other adults and children. She didn't smile in half of them, and the ones she did looked fake.

I could find the only genuine smile when she held the hand of a younger boy with a daft expression. Based on what she told me in the field, I guessed it to be her brother. When Gaelle turned to that page, I spoke up, "She's holding something in that photo." It was a black and white photo; she held her brother's hand firmly and had a rabbit toy in the other. "That rabbit wasn't in her personal effects," I informed, "I don't expect you to find it, Gae, but do you think you'd be able to remake it?"

Gaelle grabbed the border of the photograph and ripped it from its black background. I watched her eyes glow slightly, allowing her to see the image without turning on a light. When she blinked, the light faded until we were both outlines in the dark cottage. Without a word, the front door opened and closed quickly.

I quietly climbed the stairs and returned Anya to her room, her blankets still dishevelled from when she got up. I placed her down gently and draped the blanket over her.

I didn't mean to, but I stood by her bedside and stared at her. I committed her sleepy twitches to memory, her unintelligible grumbles as she rolled around in her blankets, the way she clung to her pillow and buried her nose against it as if snuggling something.

What do little girls dream about?

What does little Anya dream about?

Humans are such strange things, I mused as I kneeled by the bed, resting my head on my hand as she rolled over to face me, You fight with each other whilst also relying on each other. I made a bold gesture as I brushed my fingers through her hair, she barely shuffled closer to me, but her hands found mine and held me loosely. I suppose all living things do that, though, I thought as I compared my own hand to her own.

"How could someone ever neglect you, my little apprentice?" I muttered aloud, "You are valuable, dear. I'll make sure you see that." I pulled my hand from hers, the movement causing her eyes to flutter.

"Go back to sleep, An," I crooned, "You're dreaming."

"Am not…" she breathed. Despite her words, her eyes closed and she was once again gone.