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“So you’ve made your decision?”  

Byla was looking up at him, to where he was standing on top of the stairs leading to the doorway. She pursed her thin lips, annoyance and disappointment clear on her wrinkled face.  

Fen nodded and looked down, he couldn’t look at her anymore. His stomach twisted.  

Somewhere near merchants were yelling their phrases and hooves thumped against the dirt.

Fen had dreaded this day. The day when Byla would decide she’s had enough of the city and longed to be back on the road. On that day, today, he would have to tell her he was not coming along anymore.  

Byla grumbled and waved her hand in air dismissively. “Foolish boy. Don’t be looking so guilty now. I knew this day was coming.”  

She shook her head and for a moment looked like she was about to get nearer to him. Instead she stayed still, next to the already sattled horse carrying all her baggage for the journey. They had had to downsize after the carriage broke. The horse could carry only so much of her books and equipment.

“I don’t have it in me to travel much longer anymore anyway.” She raised her hand to stroke the gilding’s smooth brown fur. It answered to her touch with a soft neigh and impatient movement.  

Fen couldn’t count how many times he had ridden the mount across hills and highways. How trustworthy, stubborn and  dear it was.

He frowned at Byla’s notion.  

“I’m old. Tired. I wish to retire to a remote cabin with a meager field to grow and nourish some plants and vegetables. Become the bitter, secluded old witch I was destined to be.” she let out a weak cackle and turned her head to meet Fen’s eyes now that he had raised them.  

He had never thought of her becoming old. Byla was ageless, relentlessly energetic and determined. At times, as if possessed by mania, she rushed to discover new things and whip knowledge into his brain. The thought of her just sitting by alone somewhere, day after day. Calmly living her life…farming. It almost made him smile.  

The way Byla was looking at him, perished the kindling amusement he was feeling. There was now sadness in her eyes, and he didn’t quite know how to react to it.  

This bond they had cultivated now for years, was still an unexplainable one. Neither showed their affection openly, even though it was obviously mutual. Byla resorting to nagging, Fen to indifference, perhaps too often. They found comfort in each other.

He would lie if he’d said he didn’t think of her as… some kind of mother figure.

Now, at the time of their divergence, Fen felt confused about Byla’s reaction. Even if he stayed here, it wouldn’t mean farewell forever?  

“I despise the influence she has on you.”

She let out and Fen could not but to roll his eyes immediately. It had to come to this topic eventually.  

“Come on…” he said, splaying his arms open.

Like an ember lit inside her, Byla continued, “All she knows is to be a hedonistic, selfish creature and she’s dragging you into her habits.”

Her tone was sour, but said with spent aggression, as if she’d said it a hundred times before.

Fen sighed.  

“I just feel like I can be useful here. I’m making a living, I’m having fun. Do you want to forbid that, too? I’m sorry I can’t become the next Arch-mage.” he shrugged and let out a bit more dramatically than he meant.  

He was frustrated at her attitude towards Maeri, her own daughter, and the business she was successfully running. He knew how to take care of himself. He knew what to expect.

Though the ever-changing scenery was exciting, travelling with Byla was safe… and slow. He almost didn’t dare to admit he craved for a place to belong. Somewhere to build himself up.  

”I wasn’t tutoring you to be. Only to give you direction, a chance. I know you to be better. I know you to be kind and hard-working… when you want to be.”  

“I’m working hard, I’m making a change here. She gives me that opportunity.”

He felt aggravated. Why couldn’t she just be happy he was finding his own direction in life?

Still pursing her lips she nodded, her stance becoming less rigid as if in defence.

“I am not telling you not to stay. Do what you want with your life. Just, do it for yourself, not because of her.”

Fen looked away again and crossed his arms. His chest hurt, a nulling emptiness pulsed within it. He wanted to be angry that she didn’t believe in him. But he knew she did. More than anyone had ever before.

Was it guilt he was feeling? For leaving her, abandoning his studies she had so carefully conducted?  

She said she had expected this.  

Byla sighed softly, almost chuckled. She turned to face the wind, the gates of the city and the hills rising far beyond. A breeze played with the loose grey hairs on her temple.  

“I guess...all I was wishing was to have someone to help me plant the yams and roots.”

It hit his heart, a sadness surging from deep within. Fen sniffled, suddenly having trouble holding in his tears. It felt too raw, too final.

A journey’s end.

He wanted to say he’d come, he’d help, but she knew that already.  

Though she would never ask him to.  

He wanted to– he needed to thank her. But what words could ever be enough? She had given him a new chance in life. Cared for him, saved him.

He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her.

Byla gave him a last glance. It pierced him. She turned to straddle the patient mount, fastened the saddle’s belt.

Startling into action, he strode down the stairs.

He dove in to hug her. Standing, he was only a little bit shorter than her anymore. Leaning against her chest he suddenly didn’t want to let go. Words were stuck in his throat. She held him, gently and close.

When they came apart, Byla’s face was twisted up. She didn’t cry, she never had. He knew she was feeling the same. Her fingers lingered at the tips of his hair for a second.  

Then they looked at each other, painfully bittersweet.  

He helped her get on the horse and patted its side the last time.  

”Be careful.”  

Byla said in almost a whisper. He nodded, tried wearing a reassuring smile.