The sunlight woke me, and I was briefly confused as to where I was.

Oh, right. The birthplace of my new garden. A smile lit my face as I yawned.

The leaves unraveled from their weave and the dirt fell from my skin. I felt a bit dehydrated, and there was no water to drink. No matter. I simply drew up water from the water table beneath the soil. I purified most, but not all, of the minerals within - humans needed somewhat salty water, for some reason. Once I was satisfied with the blend, I pulled it through my skin and infused it into my bloodstream.

Hardly two minutes had passed, and I was refreshed.

The disarray of the garden condemned me, but I whispered a promise to love it properly, soon. The house was both my obligation and my pride.

I managed to resist the allure of the greenery for only a week. The house was in far better shape, Lou’s studies were progressing admirably, and Slick was almost never to be seen, even after he and his sister had moved in.

But the sweet beauty of the garden in my mind could not be ignored. Each day, I slipped from my obligations a little more, falling into temptation.

Roots grew deeper, stronger. No weeds would choke my prizes. Leaves were rich and vibrant, and hummed with the faintest of enchantments to ward off any insects that dared touch my creations. The insects could have the clippings, and no more.

The outermost reach was full of tall and fairly conventional plants. I made them extra thorny out of a mild spite. Within that enclosure, however, was my true garden.

Flower petals of every imaginable color scintillated in the sunlight. A rose of gold and red looked like fire, situated next to a translucent rose of blue and white that looked as though it were carved from glacial ice. A dozen varieties of flowers, enhanced in a myriad of ways, to enhance scent, or to hint at imagination.

And all of them were brilliantly, beautifully, perfectly alive. No sculptor of dead things was I; my creations flourished, living and breathing according to my will.

I discovered quite a delight in this world - hummingbirds! These beautiful birds lived on the nectar of flowers, so I created an entire variety just for the remarkable little creatures. Soon, my garden was full of another dimension of color and life.

Cats also discovered my garden, mostly due to the birds. After screaming in dismay at a series of feathery corpses, I added anti-cat enchantments.

They were cute, but my garden was a creation of life. While death may have a role in that, I certainly wasn’t going to have it in my own backyard.

I later had to add birds of prey to the forbidden list.

Much to my disappointment, neither Lou nor Slick had much appreciation for the garden. Slick thought it was “kind of gaudy,” and Lou found it unnerving. Alice loved it, but I just couldn’t seem to feel especially flattered at her opinion.

Over the next few months, my garden grew to delightful splendor, and the house became eminently stable. Lou, however, started to get a little anxious. While there was a good deal of money to work with, it was finite, and she wasn’t nearly as certain as Slick that he’d continue to earn vast quantities. She wanted more stability - a notion with which I entirely agreed.

We discussed and decided the best course of action was to start our very own pawn and general goods store. I could supply a much larger quantity of high quality goods, and it should make an excellent steady income.

The only issue was that Lou couldn’t run it herself, and I was certainly not going to have any part in that. However, Lou, Slick, and Alice all knew just the person.

I had to admit that I was mildly nervous to meet the infamous Dorothy, who’d been a maternal figure to all three of my companions. She was apparently a humble worker in a grocery store, a concept that I simply could not manage to reconcile with the reverence in their voices.

We approached the little grocery store, with Lou and Slick leading the way. Alice was apparently uninterested in any possible confrontation, and so opted out. I followed them uneasily inside, and we walked through the rows of goods in the strange metal containers their people favored. It seemed like they really liked keeping food in little metal cylinders and boxes for some reason.

“Dorothy!” Lou called out, her voice as cheerful as I’d ever heard it. Slick was also smiling brightly.

The object of their attention snapped her head towards the voice.

Her eyes were a glittering emerald, quite sharp in a face as old and wrinkled as hers. Silver hair was pulled back into a bun and framed a face as gentle and grandmotherly as could be imagined. She was small, a few inches shorter than I was, but quite a bit thicker. Despite the entirely unassuming size, she had a confidence in her posture and expression that made me wary.

I felt an almost irresistible curiosity, a temptation to peek at her soul, but after my impropriety with Benjamin, I restrained myself.

Barely.

“Louise, my dear, and Slick,” Dorothy said, her voice pleasant and affectionate. “It’s been too long! A month, was it? Is this the new friend you were telling me about?”

Her eyes locked on me, appraising me, and I found myself utterly unable to speak. I just smiled timidly.

“Yeah,” Lou said. “In fact, we uh, we gotta tell you something. Kind of big, and private.”

I’d expected Dorothy to be surprised at such a comment, but she took it completely in stride. Her expression grew a bit more serious and she hustled us off to the back room without an ounce of hesitation.

“Please forgive my rudeness,” Dorothy said smoothly, turning to face me once the door was locked. “I’m Mrs. Hill. Well, not really ‘missus’ anymore, but that’s alright. What’s your name, dear?”

I tried to speak, failed, swallowed, and tried again.

“My name is Aera,” I said. “Aera Koryn. It is an honor to meet you, my lady Hill.”

“My lady? My, aren’t you charming,” Dorothy said, flashing me another grin. “Though, really, you can feel free to just call me missus.”

“Yes, of course, missus,” I said, carefully enunciating her favored title, and keeping my face lowered a little.

Lou gave me a curious look, but Slick was oblivious.

“So, we’ve been busy,” Slick said. “And well, there’s something we need to ask you. But we oughta tell you something, too. And I dunno how to tell you, really.”

“We should just tell her,” Lou said, shrugging. “If anyone can handle it, it’s Dorothy.”

“Yeah, but she’s got a gun,” Slick said.

Both Lou and Dorothy gave him a sharp look over that. I stifled the urge to roll my eyes. Their obsession with these “guns,” these mundane stone throwers, was really getting quite old.

“I’ve no intention of using that old thing without excellent reason,” Dorothy said, her voice chiding, yet still warm, somehow. “Now I take it you’ve gotten yourselves into something, and it involves Aera, here?”

She looked at me as if waiting for an explanation. I swallowed again.

Then Lou and Slick also looked at me.

“All the proof that you require shall be made for you,” I said, my tone slipping into formality.

I just couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman had some sort of command, some sort of power, that I didn’t truly understand. Why else would she be treated with such deference and respect?

“I am of another world,” I said, “By means of an unfortunate accident. With me has come great power. Your language would best describe this power as magic. I seek a way home, and I mean neither you nor your people any ill will.”

“Magic?” she said, frowning at me. “I think you’ll need to say a little more than that, dear.”

“As you wish,” I said, with another bob of my head. “It is the manipulation of reality by way of an integration of one’s soul with the fundamental, ah, material I suppose, of the universe…”

“Perhaps not quite so much,” Dorothy interrupted with a wry laugh. “I just am afraid that I don’t fully grasp what it is that you can do.”

“Of course,” I said. “Please, allow me to demonstrate to your satisfaction.”

Lacking anything suitable to transform, I used an element with which I was almost entirely useless - Lum, the element of light, of manifesting the raw essence of reality.

My one and only spell of that element appeared in the palm of my hand - an orb of light, slowly shifting in its form. Mostly that was because I was quite poor at keeping it perfectly spherical, but the natural wave patterns of energy are lovely anyway. Slick looked mesmerized, and Dorothy looked taken aback. Lou glanced briefly at it and looked away.

“My lord,” Dorothy said. “You aren’t a witch, are you?”

My language spell indicated “witch” was a spellcaster with some evil connotations, and I frowned.

“I would imagine none of the words in your language would be a match for me,” I said. “I am from another world entirely. That said, as I gather a witch is an evil entity, that would be most inaccurate. My family, and myself, value the wellbeing of others, and take care to use our power in kind and benevolent ways.”

She frowned and looked at me speculatively.

“These two speak well of you,” she said. “Though I daresay they should have told me about this sooner. Mind, I understand why they thought it best to be careful.”

I nodded. Though I didn’t actually understand why it was best to be careful.

She gave a faint impression of being unsettled, but only in that her expression wasn’t quite as warm and inviting as it had been.

“Well, then,” she said, looking back at the others. “What was it that you were going to ask me?”

Lou grinned and happily started telling Dorothy our plan.

Dorothy wasn’t entirely interested in the idea of running a store on her own, but she understood both the uniqueness of the situation and the benefit for all parties. She was getting a bit old, she said.

Lou was good at math, and was confident she could study whatever she needed to in order to handle the store’s finances. Slick wanted nothing to do with it, other than to support his little sister.

It wasn’t long after that we’d purchased a little shop in walking distance - according to the ever-walking pair, anyway - of our home. Lou’s truck would be perfect for hauling in goods from the junkyard. It took a few weeks to get it set up and all the paperwork in place, which fortunately required no input from me.

I was simply happy to be able to have more liberty in designing interesting pieces. I had to run them by Dorothy to confirm that they were theoretically possible by mundane means, but I found a number of ways to be creative within the constraints. It was quite a bit of fun.

I didn’t often see Dorothy working, but she was a marvel. Sweet, grandmotherly thing she was, she had a glare and a curt tone that could set the most belligerent drunks on their rears and apologizing. I’d have sworn it was mind magic, had I not known otherwise.

She told wonderful stories, when the store wasn’t busy. Sometimes I simply sat and listened. Her first husband, she met by pointing a gun at him - her neighbor - because he’d refused to turn down his radio when she was sleeping. The second, who’d swept her off her feet and taken her on a wild, reckless tour of the country. The third, the only man she’d ever met who could hold his own in both a debate and a glaring contest. Apparently she could never quite decide if she loved or hated him, even on their wedding day.

The third husband was the one she’d gotten Lou’s gun from - he’d been a soldier, and he’d had it from the war.

“The war,” as though it were a solitary thing. These people had a lot of wars, but somehow that one was special, I supposed. As far as I could gather, it simply was because it had a significant amount of countries involved.

Dorothy rather enjoyed my company, since I didn’t make her uncomfortable with my magic, and I loved to politely listen to her seemingly endless supply of tales.

Apparently she was religious - a Christian, which meant that she worshipped some sort of deity, the like of which I could see no evidence for. Still, it was my first inkling of why my magic might need to be kept secret. This religion, quite common in this country, was rather negatively inclined towards the idea.

Most people didn’t take it too seriously, as more of a behind-the-scenes pressure than any sort of zealotry. Aside from a few demographics. Lou and Slick were not religious, though they still erred on the side of caution. Slick was more experimental, but it did rather explain why Lou seemed curious about anything and everything except my magic.

Well, possibly. Really, it was more like the existence of magic offended her.

Over time, as Slick’s popularity started ebbing, the Boston Boys grew more regular in their practice. I often loved to watch Benjamin perform, and almost always resisted the temptation to gaze at his soul when music captured him. Whenever I slipped, I tried to apologize as best as I could, with extra attentiveness with food, drinks, and company.

He seemed to realize that I favored him, and grew increasingly appreciative of my company. I, too, enjoyed his - he wasn’t particularly intelligent, but he was kind, passionate, and had an interest in literature.

We used Slick’s tarp idea, and suffered with the lack of sunlight for a few months. In time, the house was again uncovered, and the magnificent artistry of the improved construction was clear for all to see. The gardens - both the guarding thorns, and my private haven - were in fine shape. The front yard was as pristine as any noble manor’s.

Beneath the floors, in a blocked off portion of the basement, my lab grew. The portal was recreated in as absolutely perfect detail as I could remember, though I still hadn’t the faintest idea how to enchant it. Still unwilling to face the magnitude of the task, I contented myself with enchantment practice, creating a wide array of little toys and tools.

This made my lab a rather dangerous little room, which to my amusement, actually made it feel more like home. I even had an enchantment go wrong, blowing off a good portion of my arm, and I was so reminded of my mother that I didn’t fully repair the damage for hours.

And so my days went. Many of my hours went into attempting to improve my skill, however awkwardly it went with neither instructor nor books. Some few hours per week were spent making goods for our little store, and many more than that spent listening to stories. Lou and Slick were lovely housemates, and I would see them each morning and evening. Sometimes I would spend a day with Benjamin, as he showed me various sights around the city.

Slick did end up taking me up on my offer to train him in magic. To his disappointment, it was a slow process. To my pleasure, he was quite patient. He didn’t engage in training often, but he showed no sign of giving up, and was quite satisfied with my explanation of how difficult it was to “awaken” to magical power.

And of course, with almost all the rest of my time, I spent it in the green embrace of my garden, ever magnifying the intricate beauty within its flowing life.

Such complacency. Why, the very thing for which I had dismissed Alice.

Still, it had its comforts.

“I was hoping to ask you, Aera,” Benjamin said one day, as he sat beside me on our living room couch. “What sort of things do you like to do with your time?”

“You ask as though it’s some great secret,” I said, smiling at him.

I took a sip of the wine and suppressed a sigh. It had been a year since we’d moved in. The warm spring air flowed through the open windows of the house, and birds chirped merrily outside.

“Well, I’ve tried to ask a few times, but we always seem to get sidetracked,” he said with a smile in turn. “Not just about your habits, I mean. About you. Your interests, your home, your family.”

“Rather bold, that,” I said, looking away.

“Please, accept my apologies,” he said hastily, and sounded crestfallen. “Truly, I meant no offense. I’ve just been curious for some time, and I… well, I just was hoping to get to know you better.”

“No, please, I…” I hesitated, and turned to face him. I put my hand on his, and his sorrowful expression lifted. “It’s that… I mean…”

He waited patiently for me to continue. I took a second to ease the wave of fearful uncertainty that had touched me, and smiled down at my glass.

“It’s not that I dislike talking about such things,” I said quietly. “It’s just… I… I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

I hesitated again. As before, he waited calmly, putting no pressure on me. I couldn’t help but notice that he was the only person I’d ever known to do that. He gave me time to think, to feel. I felt a sudden, desperate desire to tell him everything, and I had to look away.

“I’ve known you for a time,” I said softly. “And I like to believe you are a good person. But I have been warned so much… I… I can’t tell you everything, but… tell me, Benjamin. Can I trust you with a secret?”

“Aera,” he said, putting down his wine. He placed that hand on top of mine, effectively clasping my hand between his. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“No,” I said. “Well. Maybe. I don’t know. But not really. It’s just… it’s just a secret, that’s all. I can’t tell you, but maybe…”

I trailed off.

“Can you?” I asked again. “Can you keep a secret?”

“For you, Aera, I’ll keep anything,” he said, and I flushed.

Once I recovered from my blush, I looked up.

“Flower sculpting,” I said, and he looked confused.

I held a hand to my lips and giggled.

“I mean, that’s what I like to do with my time,” I clarified, and he only looked slightly less confused. “My garden. It’s not the secret, but it relates, and it, too, must be kept private. Do you… do you wish to see it?”

“I’d love to,” he said, looking like a strange blend of amused and confused.

“Come, then,” I said, abruptly excited.

I let my hand stay in his warm grasp as we got to our feet, and I began leading him to the back door.

“I cannot tell you from whence I come, or of my family, or so many things, but you can see my joy,” I said, as I carefully led him through the brambles.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that without my magic to turn the thorns, there simply was no path at all into the center.

“By all that is holy,” he breathed as we emerged into the sunlight. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“You like it?” I asked. “Changing the flowers, making them look how I please… it is my favorite way to be at peace.”

“You’re an artist,” he said.

“An… artist?” I repeated, startled. “I… well, I mean, it’s just a hobby.”

“No, this,” he said, reaching out and delicately touching one of the tulips, “This is art, Aera. This is beautiful.”

I blushed at that, but he didn’t notice, enraptured as he was in the garden. He walked slowly and carefully, reaching out to touch or smell every single flower he could reach.

He even looked a little misty eyed as he watched a hummingbird sip from one of the flowers, then spin around him and dart off. He knelt beside the rose bush and simply stared in wonder at the theme of fire and ice within its leaves.

“How do you make these?” he asked, never turning away.

I knelt beside him.

“I am sad to say that is something which I am forbidden to share,” I said.

He shook his head, then looked at me.

“I’ve been trying to guess what your secret is ever since I noticed you avoided those questions,” he said. “But this… well, I have no idea. I’d thought you were maybe a runaway princess, or something, but…”

He shook his head again, while I laughed.

“I am no princess!” I said, holding my hand up to cover my giggle. “I’m… I’m just an ordinary girl. Not even special within my family; I’m a disappointment to them.”

“I can’t imagine anyone being disappointed with you,” he said.

My smile turned sad.

“Even so,” I said. “I’m… I’m alone now. I have my garden, and some new friends, but that is all. This land is so very strange to me. And I am forbidden to even speak of anything of my home.”

“So this is just some strange thing from your homeland,” he said, glancing at the flowers. “Some skill you’ve brought with you.”

I nodded.

“I am nothing,” I said. “Lou and Slick have been very kind to me, and I have a few skills that has made the arrangement mutually beneficial. But I would have been lost without them.”

He turned towards me and took my hand in his again.

“I never want to hear you say that you’re nothing,” he said. “Look at this place. Look at what you’ve created. You. This is art, Aera, and that comes from your heart.”

He smiled and brushed a strand of hair from my face.

“This garden is who you are,” he said. “That’s what art is - what music is to me, and a painting to a painter, and so on. You can be nothing but an artist, and still be everything.”

A strange feeling filled me. His face was close to mine, and his eyes burned with passion. The warmth of his hand didn’t quite seem enough. His words were warmth in my heart, and I felt a need for more.

It seemed he felt the same way, as his expression softened and seemed inviting.

Nervousness started to fill me, and so I quickly looked away, breaking the spell of the moment.

Still…

“Thank you, Benjamin,” I said, my words scarcely more than a whisper. “You cannot yet understand how much that means to me.”

“Then perhaps, one day, you can tell me,” he said. “In the meantime, though, it seems I misunderstood quite how far you are from home. Maybe I should show you around the city like before, but this time with an eye on helping you see what America really is.”

I pulled his hand to my face, greedily enjoying the warmth again.

“Take me, then,” I said, and he smiled.

It was a day to be grateful for.

The next few weeks were wonderful. He never asked me any questions about my home, but instead, asked me questions about the here and now - what stories I enjoyed, whether I liked the theater show he’d taken me to, what new foods I’d discovered.

It was such a pleasure to be able to express myself, without being afraid of revealing too much. Sometimes I’d say something that made him look quizzical, but not once did he push me. He felt safe. Comfortable.

“... and kind,” I said, making my case to Lou and Slick, who looked a little confused.

“Right,” Lou said. “He’s a stand up guy. We already know that. What are you getting at?”

“Well, I mean…” I hesitated. “I… well… I just want to ask permission to tell him of who I am, and what I am able to do.”

“Our permission?” Slick repeated, looking confused.

“It ain’t about permission, Aera,” Lou said. “We’re not in charge of you. It’s about being smart. And coming to your friends for advice on something big is a smart thing.”

“Oh,” Slick said, seeming slightly less confused.

“Regardless of how it is phrased,” I said. “I feel I would like to talk to him freely.”

“I mean, if you want to talk to him, to trust him, that’s on you,” Lou said.

“Not that I’m sure why you want to,” Slick said. “I mean, he’s nice and all, but…”

Lou elbowed him. He grew silent, and I fiddled with my skirt a little, uneasy.

“So I can, then?” I said, needing to be sure.

“Um, yeah,” Slick said. “I mean, be careful, and don’t let him push you, but if you really want to tell him, you can.”

“Only if you’re sure,” Lou said. “Because you can’t take it back.”

I nodded.

“I am sure.”

----------------

“I always love it when you bring me here,” Benjamin said, sighing happily as I guided him to sit down with me next to the rosebush, like before. “It’s so peaceful.”

“I am glad,” I said. “I have brought you here for a reason, Benjamin.”

“Oh?” he asked, though he didn’t seem surprised.

I felt a little tongue tied. Smiling, I simply reached out and plucked one of the fire-themed roses. The petals felt so smooth against my lips as I brushed it against my face, inhaling its scent. Soon winter would come, and I would have to put my garden to sleep, but until then, I would enjoy the pleasures it gave me.

“Tell me, Benjamin,” I said. “Do you still wish to know me?”

“That I do,” he said.

“I have been told of much danger,” I said. “Danger which is apparently beyond me to understand. The very knowledge is danger, to any who knows it. To even know my secret is to put your life at risk. Knowing that… do you still wish to know me?”

“You’re in danger?” he asked. His eyes looked stricken with sorrow.

“Not immediately,” I said. “Only if my secret is discovered.”

He looked concerned, then shook his head as though to shake away an unpleasant thought.

“I would be honored to be trusted with this secret, Aera,” he said.

Slick, Lou, Alice, Dorothy - four times, now, I’d revealed my secret. Each time had been different, with different reactions. Shock, paranoia, exuberance, and discomfort.

I had no idea how he would react. I had no idea why it seemed to matter to me so much.

“I am from very far away,” I said softly, gazing at the fire of the rose. “Further than you can imagine. You see, though I am human, my world is… other than this one.”

“You’re… an alien?” he said, sounding more confused than anything.

“Human by blood, alien by locale, I suppose,” I said. “To me, it is your world that is alien. But the critical facts are these.”

I closed my eyes and sighed.

“My home… my family… they are lost to me. Something went wrong, and I found myself here, in this bizarre world. I’ve lost them, and I… I’m trying to find a way back, but I…”

My throat started tightening. Tears flooded my eyes, yet again, the accursed things.

“I’ll help you find your family, Aera,” he said, his voice tender.

“You don’t understand,” I said. “You can’t, not yet, because…”

I took a deep breath.

“There is a skill that the people of my world have learned,” I said, still unable to look at him. “Your language has only one word for it that seems to match, and that word is magic.”

“You’re saying you can do magic?” he asked.

His voice seemed a blend of confusion, uncertainty, and sympathy.

I nodded.

“Flower shaping,” I said, holding up the rose and gazing at the array of colors. “My art with this skill.”

The colors shifted as I shared my heart with the rose, turning blood red with a sheen of gold. Benjamin fell back.

“What the…” he said. “What did you do?”

“Magic.”

“Do that again,” he said.

The curiosity in his voice bade me to look at him. He looked fascinated and stunned.

I smiled and let the rose change to the same glistening hue of brown as his cello. It was a bit odd to see a perfectly healthy looking flower that shade of brown.

“How do I know this isn’t some sort of…” he said, then hesitated.

“A trick?” I asked, and he nodded tightly. “Simple enough. Tell me what you wish it to look like, and I will accommodate you. That could be no trick.”

He nodded.

“Purple, with green polka dots,” he said.

I suppressed a frown. That sounded hideous.

Such a color scheme on a rose seemed an affront to the flower’s inherent beauty. I shifted the petals into another shape first, making it appear to be a less elegant sort of flower. A daisy seemed reasonable enough.

Satisfied, I adjusted the color. First, it flickered into a vibrant purple, then green emerged. I was set on making these colors work together, and let both colors shift before my eyes. Benjamin was saying something, but I could not listen, not yet. I would not let this travesty of color stand.

Dark, royal purple, with spots of bright, glowing green. The green was iridescent, shimmering as though it was simply a captured point of magic itself. The flower now looked as though it were some sort of artifact, with mystical power captured in these strange points of light.

I pulled back my focus and looked at it. I still wasn’t entirely pleased, but it was vaguely acceptable. I smiled over at Benjamin.

“That is incredible,” he said. “May I see it?”

“Certainly,” I said, and handed him the flower.

He examined it carefully for several minutes before handing it back.

“Is this the only thing you can do?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I can do a number of things, but mostly life alteration, like this. Changing the form of plants, animals, or people, which includes healing. Changing other forms, like rocks, is within my talent, though I’m not as good at it. And other forms of magic, I range from moderately capable, to nearly useless.”

“Healing,” he said, still sounding strangely distant. “How well can you heal?”

“Brains are complicated,” I said, adjusting myself on the grass. “Only the most incredible of healers can do anything beyond exceedingly simple fixes with it. Beyond that, though, I could create an entire body from scratch - even if a part were damaged in ways I couldn’t figure out how to fix, I could simply remove it and replace it. As such, I cannot imagine anything beyond my power to heal.”

I didn’t see the point in mentioning how ludicrously difficult that was, and the various limitations I had in attempting such a thing. I was, technically, capable of it.

He nodded slowly.

“So this is why you’re in danger?” he said, looking like he was still in a bit of a state of shock.

I nodded. “Lou and Slick tell me that if my power is found, the government will want to take me. No matter what questions I ask them, they insist that they do not know the means, only that they are utterly confident that I could not win.”

“They’re right,” he said, sighing.

“You agree?” I asked, forlornly. “That I could not hope to stop them?”

He laughed oddly. “No, Aera, I don’t think that you could do anything if they wanted to take you away.”

“Why?” I asked. “How can you be so certain?”

He sighed.

“I don’t even want to think about that,” he said, his voice pained. “I don’t want to think about what they would do to you.”

A measure of fear grasped at me. I’d not asked Dorothy, since she seemed to regard my power as threatening, and I’d not wanted to make her uncomfortable. Benjamin, though - unlike the others, he was fully into adulthood, and did not strike me as a fool.

He sighed again, bringing me back to the present.

“May I have a moment to think?” he asked.

I nodded, and stood up. I attached the flower to another bush, not wanting to condemn it to death, however strange it might look. While Benjamin sat and stared blankly at the rosebush, I tended the rest of the garden.

Several minutes passed. I turned to address the growth of one of the stalks, and Benjamin was standing before me, with a strange expression.

“You told me that you’re an ordinary girl,” he said.

“I am,” I said, looking down.

“This is anything but ordinary,” he said.

“This?” I said, gesturing at the garden, my heart rising to my throat. “This is ordinary! This is my ordinary!”

I turned away, unable to face him.

“I am nothing, Benjamin,” I said. “My parents, they are special, certainly. But I? I have been nothing but a failure, a disappointment, my entire life! Never good enough! Never strong enough! Never efficient enough!”

“How can you think that you are nothing, Aera?” he asked. “With all that you can do? You are incredible.”

“To you, perhaps,” I said with a rueful laugh. “To most mundanes - that is, non spellcasters - my power is some great thing. But to me, to my family, to others with such skills…”

My voice began to waver.

“For all that my parents are some of the mightiest people in all the world, I have failed them, by only being ordinary. A common spellcaster, worthy of no more than being a village’s local healer. Not even strong enough to survive on my own, without the aid of spellcasters greater than I. With no more to hope for than to eek out a living in some corner of the world, trading in favors to serve at the behest of my betters.”

I fell to my knees and started crying.

“All I had that was of any worth was my parentage. And now, without them, what am I? Lost, alone, and endlessly confused, in a world that makes no sense at all. It is you who are strange, and alien!”

I felt his hand on my shoulder, but my heart was breaking and words kept spilling out.

“I have nothing, Benjamin,” I said, my voice falling to a whisper again. “I have nothing but hope of going home, and even that dies a little more each day.”

“You have me,” he said quietly.

His face was blurry through the haze of tears, but it looked kind. So very kind. I leaned forward and he embraced me. His shirt grew damp with my tears.

“And Aera,” he said, his voice gentle, “It doesn’t matter how your people might have judged your skill with magic. You are not nothing. You are an artist. You are a friend. And… and you are dear to me.”

My throat was too tight to answer, but I hoped he could feel the effect of his words through the tightness of my embrace.

It seemed I did have something after all.