Chapter 217 - Not Really My Problem

"Where are we going?" the green witch asked. 

They left the forest without trouble, the trees thinning behind them as they stepped into open fields. 

Vell didn't answer right away. He walked with his hands in his pockets, stepping over roots without looking down, eyes fixed ahead as if the path itself would guide him.

Finally, he spoke. "If I'm leading you to your so-called 'power,' then, please, don't question me."

Sonder, just behind him, raised a brow. "That's not very reassuring." 

Vell smirked. "I try." 

The green witch narrowed her eyes. "If you're leading us to our deaths, say so now." 

"If I wanted you dead, I would've left you in the forest." 

That shut her up.

Still, Vell considered places he could offload them. It wasn't that he disliked them, but they weren't his problem. He didn't want to abandon them to danger, not with their lacking magical and physical abilities, but keeping them wasn't an option either.

He scratched his chin. Who would take in a group of failed apprentices—cast-offs rejected even by lowly court mages?

They walked through the open fields, the air crisp with the lingering chill of the fading afternoon. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows as it slowly inched toward the horizon.

Vell remained quiet, mulling over his options. He wasn't their teacher, their mentor, or their caretaker.

The witches followed without complaint, but their occasional glances—some expectant, some wary—made it clear they were waiting for him to say something or make some sort of decision.

He exhaled sharply. "Who would take in a handful of rejects?" 

Sonder shot him a judgmental look as she heard his words.

"Oh, excuse me," he muttered.

The green witch spoke up again. "You don't actually have a destination, do you?" 

"I have ideas," he said. 

"That's not an answer." 

His patience thinned. "Then stop asking questions." 

Her glare could have melted stone.

They walked on, the dirt path hardening beneath their feet into a proper road.

That was when the idea clicked into place.

Vell slowed, lifting his gaze to the distant hills.

"An academy," he murmured. He tilted his head slightly. "If you want power, the best place to learn is somewhere that already has it." 

The witches stopped.

"You mean… a school?" one of the younger ones asked hesitantly.

"Not just any school," Vell said, rolling his shoulders. "One of the schools. The kind where only nobles or the obscenely talented get in."

The green witch scoffed. "And you think we could get into a place like that?"

Vell glanced at her. "Probably not."

"Then why—"

"But I can get you in."

Silence.

"Could you get them all in?" Sonder asked expectantly.

Vell smirked. "Something like that."

The green witch still looked doubtful, but for the first time since leaving the forest, the others seemed interested. Hopeful, even.

"Alright," he said, picking up his pace. "Let's move. If we're lucky, we'll reach it in a week."