It wasn’t long before Lapis was well into the winter. It was that time of year when your breath turns white and you struggle to get out of your warm bed in the morning.
In Lapis, we had a special event that took place this time of year. This was opening a portal that led to other worlds. By connecting our world with others, we could welcome otherworldly guests.
Long ago in Japan, there used to be a system known as sakoku—a policy to isolate the country from the rest of the world. During that time, the only part of the country to have any interaction with the outside world was a single island in its southern archipelago. What Lapis did was similar; we opened up our world to another in only this spot.
Setting aside the festival itself, this was the time of year when Lapis shone most. Magic flowed throughout the town, and people from other worlds mingled with the citizens of our own. The event was only possible because this town was under the jurisdiction of one of the Seven Sages, and the event was known as the “Celebration of Worlds.”
With my teacher obviously being the Sage who oversaw the festival, it was also one of the busiest times of year for her.
“Um…”
I made a sound of confusion, to which my teacher responded with “Pipe down, Meg. What are you moaning and groaning about on your computer? If you have time to grumble, get to answering some e-mails.”
It was all hands on deck at the Faust manor, where every witch and familiar had a task assigned to them. And believe me, there were no shortages of tasks. The familiars gathered the materials and resources we needed for the festival, and my teacher handled all the paperwork. I, on the other hand, was on computer duty, answering the never-ending chain of e-mails while also helping my teacher with magic formula preparation.
There were many rules set in place for interacting with the other worlds, and the e-mails were mostly questions about these among a laundry list of others.
The issue was, I was in no place to be handling these tasks.
“Teacher, you need to see this.”
I shifted my computer screen toward her, and she curiously approached to watch. On the screen was an article about a young woman. She had lush blue hair, red eyes, and an intelligent-looking face. It was this, and the fleeting sense of melancholy that lingered in her expression, that had the world so captivated.
“Is that the Sage Sophie?”
“Yes.”
Also known by her witch name, the Witch of Blessings, Sophie was one of the Seven Sages. She was a genius if there ever was one, having taken one of the seats at the table of the Seven Sages at the young age of seventeen.
Evidently, she was in South America for a festival the month before, where a grand parade took place.
“What’s the issue with her?”
“Isn’t it obvious? She’s the same age as me! And we’re both witches! And yet she’s all over the net, where they’re calling her things like princess! Mind tellin’ me why I’m not one of the Seven Sages yet?”
“Because you lack knowledge and ability. You’re also less virtuous than Sophie—and, let’s face it, a bit more homely than she is.”
“Enough! You’ve made your point!”
Reality is a cruel mistress.
Sophie was essentially the perfect witch I wanted to be, and there she was, on my computer screen.
I was an apprentice witch stuck in the countryside, and she was one of the Seven Sages, who acted on the world stage.
Realistically, we both probably started learning magic around the same time, and yet we both ended up in entirely different places in our lives.
My teacher sighed wearily as she watched me gnash my teeth at the picture.
“I was wondering what was keeping you from getting your work done. So you’re jealous of Sophie, are you? Listen, Meg. No two people are the same. Everyone has something they excel at, as well as things that are not their specialty. Comparing yourself to others does nothing for you. What matters is accomplishing what you can and should. Doing so will take you where you need to go, eventually.”
“Eventually, eh…?”
“Speaking of which, have you managed to accumulate more tears of joy?”
“I have eleven…”
The extra tears were from random deeds of kindness, like helping a small child find his mother or helping an elderly person find something they lost.
Unlike Sophie, I had to run around the countryside like some salesman to earn my quota in tears.
“Jealousy is the last thing you have time for right now. Your highest priority should be survival. Or else you have no future either way.”
“I know…”
I had a tab open with a video of Sophie using her magic. It looked like a video made with CG, with the way beams of light shot up, bird illusions flew about, and the stars in the night sky twinkled. Flames turned from red to green, and the lights in the room turned every which color—all the effects controlled by a single witch.
If I could do that, I bet I could get all the tears I need.
All the thoughts that surged through my mind were anything but constructive.
“If you understand, then go get my things ready. We only have a week left.”
“Righto.”
Hearing my unenthusiastic response, my teacher simply shrugged and left me to my desk work. A significant amount of time passed before I realized I’d been scrolling through video after video. They’d taken all my attention, making me forget about the tasks at hand.
She wanted me to get her things, right?
I closed my laptop and stood up, and suddenly an ominous snapping sound rang out.
All familiar eyes were on me.
“Huh? Was that me?”
I searched my body, but there was nothing wrong. That’s when I heard the horrible shrill of a woman screaming for her life. The awful shriek sent the familiars running off in every direction in fear.
With caution, I steeled my nerves and approached the area where the shriek had come from. It was a desk. I gulped as I walked toward it. Familiars had gathered, watching from behind the door to the next room, each waiting for whatever was about to unfold.
The source of the voice was lying on the ground…
“Oh, it’s just you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, you insensitive piece of…?”
My teacher was lying on the ground, surrounded by boxes and cases. It looked like she had tried to carry her things on her own.
“You’re way too old to be doing that. Can you walk?”
“I don’t think I can. I may have thrown my back out… Ow…”
I lent her a shoulder to help her get up, and she painfully put a hand to her lower back. It didn’t look like she’d be able to walk. For now, I took her to bed, careful not to stimulate the wounded area.
In that moment, it had yet to occur to me that the Celebration of Worlds had just lost its host.
“Ow, ow, ow, ouch! Be careful with my back!”
“Toughen up, buttercup.”
The familiars watched from the corner while I placed an herbal patch on the spot where it hurt on my teacher’s back as she lay in bed. Though it was a special, magically enhanced patch, it would take some time for her back to completely heal.
“The town doctor should be here soon, so just try to get some rest.”
Normally, I would poke fun at my teacher in such a vulnerable state, but this time it was me at fault for slacking off on the job and making her carry the boxes in the first place.
It was times like these when I had to wonder why she didn’t use magic to move the boxes, though. She was one of the Seven Sages, after all. Moving things and cleaning up rooms was rudimentary magic.
I knew she never would, though. While it was true that using magic took a toll on the body in a different way, she was the type who wanted to use her hands to do manual labor such as chores and shopping.
This philosophy went beyond magic. In modern times, electronic goods supplemented people in the same way magic did. The right combination of tools was all one needed to make their life much easier. Easy wasn’t always the answer; skimping out on chores was a quick way to fall out of shape, age faster, and dull the mind. This was why my teacher taught me that it was important to do such chores with my own two hands.
It was an outdated way of thinking based on the witches of old. I didn’t hate the idea, though. And because I understood this aspect of my teacher and appreciated it, I should’ve done the job before she needed to.
“This puts us in a bit of a bind. What are we going to do about the portal? It needs to open next week.”
“Uh-oh…”