The afternoon hours wasted away as Ellie laid tucked beneath the blanket and rapping her fingers anxiously on the bed. She yearned for her family's company, to go outside and feel the breeze, to admire the flowers lining the path to the workshop. But instead, she was resting, as she'd promised.

Ellie could only fight against impatience for so long before she wobbled precariously yet quietly toward the dresser. She gripped the edges to support her weak knees and squinted at her reflection in the mirror. Not often did she wear her hair down, especially during summer, but even less so was it braided so beautifully. That was, despite the stray hairs springing out from a few days' bedhead.

Ellie tidied herself up and puffed out her chest at her appearance, but the feeling was fleeting when her eyes fell to the collar of her nightgown. Carefully, she peeled away the fabric and stared at the black wound. How could she not remember something so wicked happening? But Ellie knew that if she dwelt on it, her head would only throb with a hundred confusions.

Hastily, she buttoned the collar back up and turned to the door. Resting was all well and good, but it wasn't going to accomplish anything while she felt so antsy. So Ellie pressed her ear to the door and listened; not a single sound downstairs—a sure sign that the coast was clear. Certain of herself, Ellie pushed the door open and tiptoed down the winding stairs.

"Ellie!"

Too much of her preserved energy was spent on the exaggerated arm gestures to quiet Irwin from his reading place at the dining table. "Don't make a fuss," Ellie whispered.

"You shouldn't be up and about." Irwin placed a thin ribbon between the pages and stood up. "If you need something, all you have to do is call for me. I'll bring it up to you."

"Triad's Mercy," Ellie sighed. "That's sweet of you, Irwin, but I'm gonna go crazy if I stay in bed much longer."

"I know, I'd be the same if I were in your shoes, but if Mum and Dad find out you were down here, I'm the one that's gonna get lectured."

"No, you won't. I'll take the blame, I promise." Ellie stepped into the family room and dropped onto the far sofa. "Besides, I don't plan on getting caught. They're all out there and I'm in here, where I plan to stay. I just want a change of scenery."

"Fine." Irwin tapped the cover of his book. "Do you want anything? Some water, maybe?"

Ellie hummed an approval, Irwin disappeared into the dark pantry beside the kitchen that housed the water pump, and before long he returned with a wooden cup in hand.

"I can't begin to tell you how happy I am." He gave her the drink. "To see you sitting here, looking no worse for wear than if you had a cold."

"I'm sorry. I feel terrible for putting you all through that." Ellie touched the rim to her lips and took a sip.

"Don't apologize, we know you'd never choose to make us worry. I just wish we had some idea of what happened."

"Believe me, so do I. I feel sick having such a large blank in my memory like this."

Irwin bit his lip and watched his sister take another sip. "If the cloak couldn't jog your memory, then maybe—maybe something else will."

"What do you mean? Why are you so nervous?"

From a side table near the stairs, Irwin fetched Ellie's small, leather bag and approached her cautiously. "So, I know you don't like it when people go through your bag—"

"Yeah, because when you were little, I couldn't get you to stop doing it. Though now I know it's because you just wanted to read the same books that I was," she smirked.

"Yes, well, I feel bad about this, but I went through your bag while you were asleep. A few days ago, that is. When you returned."

"It's all right, Irwin. I'm not gonna snip at you, given the circumstance."

"Right. Well, I found something interesting in there." He stood in front of his sister and held the bag with both hands like a pleading child. "May I open it?"

Ellie nodded and stifled a chuckle at the effectiveness of her old lectures. In Irwin's hand was 'Feyland Tales', a book that she'd been carrying with her for years. It looked the same as always with the first glance, and with the second and third, too.

"I don't get it." Ellie tilted her head while looking it over. "I always have that with me."

"Right, but there was something else."

"Let me guess; the werewolf one that Grandma gave me? 'Melody of Shadows'?" Ellie was beginning to think that Irwin was fretting over nothing.

"No. In fact, that's not in here at all." He retrieved an entirely unfamiliar book from the bag and held it out for her. "Do you know this book? 'Sphere of the Crystalline Heavens?'"

Ellie's only response came with a shake of her head. A part of her felt like she should know it, but whatever knowledge she had of the book was likely bound to her memory's void.

"I was really curious, so I took it to the city library over the weekend and asked the clerk for help. We must've been researching it for two or three hours before anything turned up, though." He handed the book to Ellie so that she could study it more intimately. "It's an old work of fiction that hasn't been printed in years. On top of that, it's a first edition that's worth an absolute fortune."

Her eyes widened at her brother. "Is it really?"

"Yes! But while it's exciting that you had a book worth half as much as our house, the question is where in the hells did it come from?"

Turning it upright, Ellie traced her fingers along the book's gilded grooves and took in every detail of the pristine cover. "Where, indeed?"

"I hesitate to even think of it since I don't like treating books as objects of monetary value, but maybe we should consider selling it if it doesn't stir any memories."

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said, flipping through the pages. "The book isn't mine, but someone must have trusted me with it. I have to get it back to them."

"Yeah, of—of course. Silly me, I let myself get carried away by the book's value."

"Did you tell anyone else about this?"

"Not yet. I wanted to talk to you about it, first."

"Good. Who knows if Lillian would have tried to sell it or not if she knew. Oh?" From the pages fell a small scrap of parchment. Carefully, she plucked it from her lap and held it between her fingers. "What's this?"

"A bookmark, I guess. Look, there's something written on the back." Irwin craned his neck to see the scrawling as Ellie flipped it over. "'T hanks for treet'? Looks like it was written by a small child, what with the rough penmanship and misspelling."

"Sort of does, doesn't it?" Ellie let out a low sigh, tucked the scrap back between the pages, and placed the book on her lap as she leaned into the sofa. "Let's keep this our little secret for now, okay?" She handed the book back to her brother, who promptly dropped it in her bag. "Was that all that was in there? The book from Grandma was gone, you said?"

"Yeah, it's not here. There is one other thing, though." Irwin pulled out a small, burlap pouch.

"What's in it?"

"You tell me," he panicked. "I didn't want to open it unless it was—I don't know, something personal."

"You're ridiculous." Ellie snatched the pouch, yanked it open, and leaned in to peer at the contents. "I'm pretty sure these're dried dates."

"Dried dates?" Irwin scoffed and pinched one up when she tilted the pouch to show him, then plopped down on the opposite sofa. "A regal cloak, a valuable book, a child's scrawling, and some dried dates. What a strange assortment you brought back with you. I don't even know where to begin piecing it together!"

"Neither do I. It's like I'm at the center of my own mystery—did you just eat that date?"

"I thought it'd be safe, since it was among your things," he mumbled through chewing.

"That was very Lillian of you." Ellie plucked another from the pouch, looked it over, then took a nibble. "Not my first choice of dried fruit, but it's definitely just an ordinary, dried date." She then shook her head and chucked the pouch back into her bag. "We're eating clues!"

"It's fine, there's more where that came from." Irwin leaned forward and rested his chin in his palm as he looked down at his feet. "It's a shame about that other book, though. Grandma had a hard time finding that for you at last Year's Dawn."

"I know, I feel bad. I wonder where it could've gone?"

"Maybe whoever gave you that expensive one has it? Like, a trade or something?"

"That's possible. How awful to forget someone who'd want to trade books with me, though." Ellie lifted 'Feyland Tales' from the sofa and took in a light sniff of the book. "It's weird, but it smells a little different. It still has that smell like old paper, but there's a pleasant perfume scent, too."

"Just one mystery after another," Irwin chuckled. "Now we know you were somewhere that smelled nice."

"The whole thing is kinda making my head spin." She tucked the book back in the bag beside her, then fetched her cup to take another drink. "So, tell me how your exams went."

"Still a master of changing subjects, I see." Irwin ran his fingers through his wavy, dark blonde hair with a breathy laugh. "Like I said before, I did well, but it was a bit rough."

"I'm sorry for the added challenge, but I'm proud of you for pulling through."

Irwin cleared his throat and rubbed his neck. "Well, it's nothing compared to completing college."

"Maybe, but now you can attend college this autumn like you were hoping. Did you decide on an apprenticeship to aim for?"

"Yeah, I think I'll pursue becoming a scholar. I want to make the most of my years and learn everything I can about our Shard and the ones beyond."

"The ones beyond?" Ellie raised her brow. "You'd need at least twenty lifetimes to even scratch the surface of every single Shard. Not to mention that cartographers haven't even come close to fully charting the Sea of Clouds, so we have no idea what else is out there."

"I know, it's way too ambitious," Irwin smirked nervously and folded his hands in his lap. "But the world is such a fascinating mystery, and even though the Joining was already forty years ago, there's still so little shared between the Shards. We're lucky that delegates are coming to celebrate the anniversary at all, considering how long and how far they've had to travel via an experimental transport." He grinned to his sister. "I'm envious that you get to go, you know? To the banquet."

"I wish I could bring you along, but I'll be sure to tell you all about it when I get home. I'll even sneak you a bread roll so you can say you dined on the same food as the delegates."

"Please tell me you're joking!" Irwin's answer was given in the form of a cackle. "But before you can even do that, we need to attend our graduation ceremonies."

"Are you worried about it?"

"Well, maybe a little bit."

"Don't be. It's really simple." Ellie sank back against the sofa. "Just listen to the Headmaster give his speech in the amphitheater, then when it's over you thank him for the Honor of Graduation and walk right back out."

"That's really all there is to it? We're certainly deprived compared to the bigger academies, aren't we? I hear they each last over an hour and family is allowed to attend."

"Probably because they have way more students and the space to accommodate it."

A holler from the garden was heard as Bram told Vena that he was finishing up for a break. Any energy that Ellie still had after her last drastic action was exhausted by springing to her feet, thrusting the cup and the bag into her brother's hands, and darting to the stairs.

"I was never here," she whispered with a grin, then dashed upstairs.

Ellie made it only as far as the bedroom door when she heard her father enter the house and start talking to Irwin. As she tiptoed into the room and quietly brought the door shut, Ellie overheard her brother stutter how he was just about to bring her the bag and a drink. The comment was followed by Bram remarking about how he should double check just how much water he put in the cup.

Hardly a minute had passed when there was a knock at the door just as Ellie had tucked back into bed. Irwin entered—without permission, though it was hardly needed—and cracked a smile at his sister.

"Do you want the bag with you or on the desk?" he asked.

"Bring it to me, I might want to look at that book some more after I rest. I think Mum and Dad were right, because I feel exhausted just after running up the stairs."

"Well in that case, I'll leave you to it." Irwin handed Ellie her bag and set the cup of water on the bedside table. As he left, Irwin leaned against the edge of the door and softly smiled at her again. "I'm glad you're home, Ellie."

The door clicked shut, and Ellie faced the open window with melancholy eyes. After finding so many of her sojourn's souvenirs, she pondered the mysterious adventure she'd had and who she may have met along the way. If only she knew where all the pieces of the puzzle fit.

"I'm glad I'm home, too."

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

Evening seemed to settle in faster once the entire family had gathered inside for the night. With her attempt to join them at the dinner table thwarted, Ellie was instead served her meal in bed, where she lost no less than three peas in her sheets that she and Lillian had to fish out. But now the night wore on, and Ellie relaxed in bed while flipping through the pages of the mystery book. Lillian laid atop her own bed across from her and doodled away with pencils on scrap paper.

Steps approached from downstairs and stopped just before the bedroom door. Had it been Irwin, it was more likely that he'd keep going to his room at the end of the hall. But the sound of his and Bram's laughter on the first floor clearly deduced who the sisters' visitor was.

"Mind if I come in?" Vena said from the other side after giving the door a small knock, then entered with a grin. "How are you both?"

"Well enough," Ellie replied.

"Ellie lost peas in her sheets." Lillian pointed at the tray on the desk, devoid of all other food except for the three culprits near the edge.

"That she did," Vena chuckled, then stood between the beds and glanced at Lillian. "Mind giving us a few minutes? I'll let you know when you can come back."

Lillian scooted from bed without objection, fetched the tray, and left the two alone. After the door was closed, Vena leaned over the vacant bed and let out a disbelieving laugh at the drawings.

"One of those goofy looking monsters again." Vena picked up the drawing and tilted it to show Ellie in the lamplight. That description could barely begin to describe the absurd creature she saw illustrated; a large, aquatic-looking reptile with just two legs and a cannon strapped to its back. Not to mention Lillian's slightly disturbing choice of shading. "That girl has such an imagination. Can you imagine if monsters like this were real? She'd be the first one to befriend them and give them names."

Vena placed the drawing back down and sat on Ellie's bed, where she then took her daughter's hand in her own. "I wanted to talk a bit about the night you disappeared."

"What about it? I wish I could remember something, but—"

"Not that, sweetie." She inhaled deeply and turned to stare at the floor as tears welled in her eyes. "I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Arguing with you like that, that is. It was so, so wrong of me to try and tie you down to a future you didn't want."

"Mum." Ellie placed a shaky hand on her shoulder. "It's all right."

"No, it's not, Ellie. A parent should support their child's dreams, and wanting to become a professor is a noble thing."

Ellie bit her lip as her words lingered in her throat. "Well, I've been thinking about that."

"Don't tell me you changed your mind? I swear, if it was because of me—"

"No, no I still want the apprenticeship. But I think what I really want is to just teach, not necessarily be an academy professor."

"Where did this come from?"

"I don't know. I just started thinking about all the poor, rural schools during dinner. The academies in Phiana aren't hurting for professors, that's for sure. But what about those schools? They deserve to hear all the same fantastic tales that they otherwise might never, fiction or no."

"Well, Ellie." Vena rubbed her daughter's hand with her thumb. "It's awfully sudden, but if that's what you want to do, then maybe you should talk to your professor. It's certainly just as noble, if not more so, and Evan Emmett seems the type to support such ambitions."

"I plan to talk to him after the ceremony. I have to give him my response, anyway." Ellie affectionately rubbed her mother's hand in return and let out a small sigh. "Mum, there's something I remembered, but it's nothing really tangible. Just that... I remember being happy. Almost painfully so. I don't know where I was or who I was with, but I was definitely not alone and whoever I was with made sure I was happy."

Vena scoffed in partial irritation. "Well, I just hope that whoever you were with had no dubious intentions. And maybe next time they should take better care of you so that you don't wind up with strange, black wounds."

"At least it doesn't hurt, I guess," Ellie chuckled awkwardly.

"Well, that's a start. But we're getting a wizard to look at it, mark my words. Even if we have to dip into Lillian's college fund to pay for it." Vena leaned forward and planted a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "I'm gonna let you rest. Gotta get in the best shape for graduation and the festival, right?" She winked. "Do tell your sister if you need anything, though."

Vena gave Ellie one last kiss on the back of her hand and headed to the door. But before stepping into the hallway, there was a loud 'boom' in the distance following a quick flash of light that permeated the house through every window. She and Ellie stared at one another in shock, until the tension was broken by an elated hoot from Lillian downstairs.

"A thunderstorm?" Vena scratched her nose. "We've been getting a lot of them, but I didn't even hear this one coming."

"Have we been getting a lot? Must've been when I was out," Ellie pouted. "Well, here's hoping it doesn't pass us by so I can enjoy it."

"Here's hoping, indeed. Goodnight, Ellie."

"Goodnight, Mum."

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

Clear skies let moonlight shine down upon the harbor of Phiana's southeast district. It bordered one of the less desirable areas of the otherwise prestigious city, where cutthroats, scoundrels, knaves, and all other unsavory types felt safe enough to mingle without the Holy Guard constantly glaring them down.

Such as it was, inn and tavern keepers in that district cared little about their clienteles' background, so long as they paid their dues and started no trouble under their roofs. If they had the coin, what care was it of theirs if any darkly clad, cult-like sorts decided to take up temporary residence in their establishments?

And from one such room facing the sea was a man matching that exact description, standing on the tiny window balcony and comfortably removed from his usual attire. Ocean breeze swayed the golden tresses draping his shoulder and pushed at the hem of his open night shirt, chilling the deep scars across his torso. Simply enjoying himself in solitude was rare indeed, especially with the coming events. So he smirked at the moon and raised his wine glass to it in a silent toast.