NOVEL SIMPLE 63. Where She Remains
"Sybil, I… Need to discuss something with you."
I pushed the chair back away from my desk, turning to face my master as I stayed seated, "What about?" Though it was clear that something was up, my mind hadn't quite caught up to the possibility of it being anything truly bad.
She shuffled uncharacteristically, her gaze lowering to meet the ground, "I... Want to teach you every single thing that I know about magic, and that desire has only grown as I've come to know you more and more. Although I made the decision on a whim, I've come to realize that it was the right one."
"T-thank you..?"
"But I might not be able to..." I saw her jaw tighten as she clenched her teeth, fists balled up with quiet frustration. "There's something I have to do, something I have to make right. I've been running away from it for far too long."
"W-wait." At the time, I felt as if I had been struck. Her words were sudden, and her demeanor had taken a frightening shift. My thoughts were a melting pot of self doubt and fear, Am I not doing well enough? Is she finally sick of teaching me? It was all happening far too quickly, unfairly quickly. "What... What are you talking about, master?"
She was going to leave me behind, and I would be well and truly alone. But my mind just couldn't swallow it, fervently refusing the idea outright. Surely she wasn't leaving, surely she just had something that she needed my help with -- something that would take away from my training?
"When I was young..." She licked her lips, and then finally managed to force her eyes to look into my own. "About your age -- maybe a touch older -- I was a rash girl. I made a few mistakes -- no. It's not fair to call them mistakes, they were worse than that."
"What mistakes did you make?"
My master just smiled, "If I succeed, Sybil, you'll learn. If I fail..." She took in a deep breath, a single hand reaching up to grab the brim of her hat. I watched as she plucked it off of her head. She held it close to her chest for a moment, as if it were a baby bird.
"My family made this for me, a long while before I awakened."
No, please...
She had a nasty habit, you see. Whenever discussions or conversations would grow uncomfortable, she would change the subject. It was as if talking about those things inflicted physical pain on her. She was averse to these kinds of things in a way that forced her to perform these awkward shifts, even when the conversation at hand was this serious.
I couldn't stop her, though. I was far too caught up in my own thoughts to interrupt whatever she was saying.
"It's the final crowning piece of a sort of ceremonial garb -- given to the child in every generation that had the most talent for rituals." She tapped her fingers on the brim as if she were drumming on it, "I was a bit of a hothead as a kid, all because of this right here." The same grin she always wore came to her face, and she reached out with the hat, offering it to me.
"You aren't prone to things like that -- in fact, I think you might just have the opposite problem." I took the hat from her, clutching it tightly in my now shaking hands. It felt like my fingertips were burning where they held down on the fabric, on that last bit of her that I would be able to keep with me.
"If you wear it, Sybil, I want you to let yourself have a bit more faith in your talents."
I couldn't say anything.
Even after I gathered myself and offered resistance, I was only able to contend with her for a meager ten minutes. She refused to ever tell me exactly what she was doing, only that she was going to the Capital. Praise was lavished on me, as if she knew the exact thoughts I held in my mind, but it never did extinguish that flame.
She was the type of person who thought that bad news could be tempered with honeyed words and gifts. I had no doubt that they were genuine, of course, but her main reasoning for doing so was plain as day.
I spent the longest time imagining how things might have gone if I had the strength to continue rallying against what she was saying. If I had refused her, screamed and pleaded until my throat was hoarse. Eventually, though, I managed to reach my own peace with it -- albeit not the sturdiest.
Even still, I have no clue what it was that was so important for her to do -- and I can't even begin to fathom what sort of 'mistakes' a woman like her would have ever made in her past.
"Two years."
"Two years and you're already on your way to becoming a Pioneer -- I'm proud of you."
A small smile creeps onto my lips, and my teeth bite down on the corner of my mouth, "Yeah." There she goes again. And already, those old feelings are beginning to work their way up like bile. I thought that my time away from her had long since stifled them, tempered them.
I'm not angry, just frustrated.
Her lips move down as her smile fades most of the way. She's not so ignorant as to miss my reaction to what she said.
"I'm sorry, Sybil."
My teeth clench down harder, my eyes tightening shut -- frustration, sadness, guilt, all of those feelings are threatening to spill out and bear down on me like wild animals. The worst of them is a different beast entirely, though.
I missed her, I still miss her. Even this glimpse I've been allowed of her is just...
It's coming on now, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Hot tears force their way out of my locked eyelids, rolling down my cheeks. They start slow, but efficiently erode away at whatever was holding them back in the first place. I can't speak, can't say another word to her -- if I do, it won't come out as anything more than sobs.
"Y-you.." Slowly. If I go slowly, then maybe. "I... I missed you..!" Those last two words shatter the scant bit of composure I have left, barely managing to spill out before the sounds of weeping.
"A-and.. And.." I can't stop myself anymore, letting my thoughts flow freely from my mind to my lips, the filter stripped away by my emotions. "Y-you.. W-what was so important? What did you mean when you said that you made mistakes?!"
There's a hand on my shoulder, holding onto me comfortingly while my speech has been swept away. I open my eyes, and see my master standing at my side, staring down at me with eyes full of concern. She had taken her hat off, leaving it on the table next to her saucer.
"I know, I know." She laughs, but it isn't born from humor -- it's something like anxiety. "I didn't tell you a damn thing, because I thought it was for the best. But all I really did was leave you there alone." She takes a deep breath, her eyes closing as she exhales, only to open when the breath is finished. "I thought that it would be better that way, but I knew that I was wrong, in the end. I'm sorry -- I'm sorry for abandoning you."
Her voice has grown shaky, in a way I've not heard from her before. Even all that time ago.
"I'll make certain that you know everything, Sybil. Everything that I should have told you before. And then, then you'll face your trial."
