Yule was staring Penelope down quietly, whilst Penelope had gotten quite the dumbstruck expression on her face. A tense silence fell between the two of them, one that made the girl feel extremely anxious. Up until this point she had been very careful about revealing too much of her abilities. It wasn’t hard, as Penelope had never been the type to let herself do things the easy way; she was used to going without the very idea of convenience.

“I…” Penelope’s voice trailed off, as she didn’t know what she should say.

Yule crossed the room, closing the distance. Penelope had backed up, the newly made mortar and pestle in her hands, staring up wide eyed at the older boy. He didn’t say anything. Why didn’t he say something?

His hands came up and placed them over hers, startling her. He moved the bowl and little rod while she still held them, inspecting them carefully and quietly. His eyes then went over to the one just out of reach of Penelope’s hands on the nearby shelves. All the while never uttering anything, before nodding to himself.

“So, you can use Divine Magic,” he stated, flatly. Penelope’s eyes got wider and she immediately shook her head.

“No, no, no. Absolutely not! There’s nothing divine about my magic,” she insisted, her words chosen out of pure panic, rather than careful choice. The rationale behind how she did what she did had been long chosen and worked out in her mind, but now that she was here, she didn’t know how to explain herself anymore.

“Then how did you make this?” Yule asked.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie, you weird girl.”

“I’m…I’m really not!”

“…” Yule’s expression read as exasperated, when Penelope dared to look him in the eye. Eye contact did not last long. He sighed and let go of her hands.

“Penelope, I’m not going to rat you out,” he said, at length. His hand went to pat her head reassuringly, but he hesitated on seeing her flinch; he let his hand fall back to his side. “But we do have to talk about this. Did anyone teach you about magic?”

“…No. I had to learn on my own.” Literally, it’d been just a few scant days since she first used magic. Yule had no idea exactly how untrained she really was.

Yule frowned a little, before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, we are going to make sure you are trained. I’m going to ask Aunt Minerva – don’t argue.” He was being quite serious about what he intended to do. “Aunt Minerva won’t say anything to anyone either, but whether or not your magic is divine or not, people are going to see it and think it is. So somebody has to drill some discipline into you, so you can stay safe.”

Penelope didn’t know what to say. Could she really leave her safety in their hands? Should she make a run for it? Penelope knew she could survive on just her drawn rice balls and sleeping outside wasn’t so scary either…but the little time she had been in Ceralde had been so nice. But if there was a chance of something going wrong…

“Penelope.”

He used her name so straightforwardly, and only in moments like these where she was clearly digging herself deeper into her own head, drawing her out. There was an almost lyrical way in how he said her new name. A way that made it feel right. Like it was meant to be said like that. She wished he said it more often.

“I know it’s hard, but…trust me. It’ll be all right.” He held his hand out invitingly, not approaching further, just waiting for her to make the choice. “You helped me out, so let me help you, too.”

Help. That was as strange to her as a two-headed rabbit. Before, when she was Kasumi, she never dared to ask for help nor accept it. The culture she was in said you had to modestly decline before someone could help you, though, more often than not, Kasumi never did received help regardless if she acted modestly or not.

But I’m not Kasumi anymore, she reminded herself. She was Penelope Snowflower, the goddess said so herself. She was renewed, if not brand new! And right now, she was at the beginning of her new adventurous life, just dropped unceremoniously here. Well, if she got into trouble, she could just run away!

And Yule had been a good companion, if a bit too taciturn at times, but that was understandable. She had been, by and large, a stranger to him, yet he had put his faith in her. Some random girl he met by an olive tree. The two of them were still getting to know each other. And he was the only friend she had made, if she could think of him that way. At the very least, she would like to know him better.

So she put her hand in his and nodded.

“All right,” she agreed, smiling. “Let’s go talk to Minerva.”

Yule nodded, now leading them to go get Minerva so they could have a private conversation, hand-in-hand as they had been when coming to Ceralde together.

Minerva had been serving a few customers when the two children went to go see her, so they had to wait until those customers got their purchases before Minerva could put up the closed sign and locking the door. Yule had insisted on it, since the conversation to follow was very important and required secrecy. Penelope appreciated his forethought.

They were all seated in the backrooms together, doors and windows firmly closed with curtains drawn, before anyone spoke up.

“Aunt Minerva, Penelope has something to show you,” Yule said. He looked over to the girl who nodded slowly.

It would be the first time Yule would be witnessing her ability from step one and not just the end stages. So she brought out a piece of paper from her satchel to start drawing. Penelope decided on something simple like a mug of steaming tea. She murmured under her breath, concentrating on the imagery, the scent of well brewed team the steam and warmth as she did so. Her sketch was given a bit more time and detail than she usually gave her quick creations before. Perhaps because people were actually watching her draw and she wanted to perform well.

As it had when she finished with the intent to create, golden light erupted from the drawing, re-creating exactly what she had imagined. The golden lines lifted themselves from the page, before aligning and filling themselves up into her vision into reality. Soon, everyone at the kitchen table could smell the scent of tea, though none of them could pinpoint what kind. Simply that there was an herbal scent filling the room now.

“Go ahead and pick it up,” Penelope offered, gesturing for Minerva to touch the mug.

The mage was gobsmacked, seeing what was in front of her. Her hands slid along the smooth surface of the mug, taking in the warmth coming from the mystery liquid inside. She lifted it, testing the heft carefully, as to not spill anything. Taking the mug close to her face, she took a quick sniff and after a moment, determined it safe for consumption. Just a few ginger sips taken before she set the mug down.

There was a long moment of consideration, Minerva crossing her arms as the children watched on silently. The older woman closed her eyes and took a deep, long breath. Much thought was going into her next words, before she spoke up.

Minerva’s gaze settled on Penelope, who sat up straight in response.

“I have never seen such magic in my life. In order to make an item, we normal magic users normally require at least a base for casting – you cannot make something from nothing, no matter how much magical capacity you may be born with. Even the strongest sage in the world can’t just make something out of thin air!”

Minerva gave Penelope a very serious and worried look.

“Yule explained to me before that you were on a journey and I kept silent about such an obvious fake story, since your circumstances might be too traumatic to mention. I was going to wait to hear your story when you felt comfortable, but…Penelope, where did you actually come from? Are you actually a runaway from a temple?”

Minerva’s tone was not accusatory, just very concerned about the connotations of Penelope being there. After all, in this world, the temples of the world always went after every child with even the barest hint of Divine Magic. A scary sort of monopoly, in all honesty. And Penelope could guess why the mage would assume she came from the temple.

Was now a good time to mention where she actually came from? Could she tell the whole truth?

“I…no, I didn’t,” Penelope began.

She had no real way to tell them where she came from. From her own understanding of Iraloné, people did get reborn and it was taken as fact, but she had not heard of people from other worlds being reborn into this one. Reminding herself of this, she tried to explain herself as plainly as possible.

“I don’t know if this magic is really Divine Magic or not and I honestly don’t want to know.” It was a very honest thing. She had left behind a very hard life and did not wish to repeat all of that hardship again. Penelope just wanted to live peacefully.

The girl explained, at the very least, about her family. How she was always kept at home for one reason or another. Talking about her life before as Kasumi, she realized how off everything was. Curfews before 3 PM when she was in her twenties, when they would make her do chores or something, making her late to appointments or meetings. It made her give up on having any friends or meeting anyone new. She hadn’t even gotten to date anyone, such was the grip her family had on her. They kept her dependent and shackled by guilt and filial duty.

“Oh, but I was happy to do it. I loved my family, you know? I just wanted everyone to be happy. I was even supposed to get married to a stranger.”

That was the truth, too, as resentful as she had become. The beginnings had been innocent enough. Everything hadn’t been terrible at the start.

“But, I am no longer with them, because by the grace of the goddess Tulilith, I was able to escape. That’s how it is. I don’t know where I originally came from, but I…don’t want to go back. I’ll keep running if I have to.” Not quite what happened, but close enough. Tulilith did tag her soul and bring her to this world.

“I always did everything I could, but I had enough, you know? I guess I am a bad daughter, because I left.”

Even though she knew it was good for her, Penelope couldn’t quite let go of the guilt, of the duty she had to her family. She was so used to being relied on, that it just didn’t quite process that her situation was not at all a normal one. If presented with this sort of thing from someone else, she had historically told them to leave, find happiness.  Hypocritical thing, of course, but when you were emotionally wrecked into believing you were only meant to be happy if you were useful to someone, it was hard to break away from.

Minerva’s hand found her cheek. The touch came out of nowhere and Penelope couldn’t help, but to freeze. The older woman looked at her sympathetically.

“I see. That’s enough of that now. You don’t need to say more,” she said softly. “I understand. More than you could ever know.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yes. You’re not the problem. The adults around you…they were the problem. Never forget, that you are the child and you should not be responsible for what adults do.”

…Huh?

“Ah, Minerva…?”

All of a sudden she was pressed up against Minerva’s chest, held by a strong hug from the older woman.

“How despicable! Children are our future! What disgusting people your parents were! It`s illegal to marry a child, what terrible person would agree to something like that?!”

“Wait a minute there, it seemed some kind of misunderstanding—”

“Hush. It’s all right. I understand perfectly what’s going on. If I ever meet your parents…I will burn them!”

No, Minerva, you really don’t…

Penelope pushed away from the older woman, waving her hands placatingly in front of her. “Now, now, calm down, Minerva.”

A knock sounded at the door before Cynthia came in, the Cyno female looking perplexed.

“Hey, I heard a bit of shouting when I came back, is something going on?” she inquired, looking at the scene of Yule, Minerva and Penelope. The mage immediately went up to her lover, dragging poor Penelope with her and quickly filling in Cynthia about Penelope’s (misconstrued situation). After her brief explanation, Cynthia was also upset.

“What the hell?! What kind of crappy parents are those?! And I thought your father was bad, Minnie, but these guys sound worse! Wait until I find them, I’ll bite their heads off—”

“Wait, please, calm down…” Penelope pleaded.

It would be a bit of time before the girl got everyone to calm down.

---

“You are going to need magic lessons,” Minerva stated, with little room to argue in her voice. “I know your capabilities are wondrous, but it won’t hurt for you to learn formally to control it better.”

“Minnie is a top notch witch, on par with the court mages. You couldn’t ask for a better teacher,” Cynthia stage whispered into Penelope’s ear, pride evident in her voice. There was a sparkle when the Cyno female’s gaze met her partner’s and Minerva straightened her shoulders primly, trying to look unaffected by the compliment, though her pink cheeks said otherwise.

“Hmph! And who would want to serve in such a place when I am better suited elsewhere to people who actually deserve my help?” Minerva grumped. Ah, so this was where Minerva and Yule were similar, as relatives.

Chuckling, Cynthia moved in to nuzzle her partner’s cheek. “Yes, yes,” she placated. “My dear sweet Minnie would never serve at court, not when she can be a hero of people and protector of children.”

“Damn right, I am,” Minerva groused, yet not denying the affection.

Yule, who was standing there with Penelope, looked utterly grossed out by his aunt’s display. Penelope, personally, was very charmed by the obviously happy couple. After a few extra moments of Cynthia piling on the love onto Minerva, the mage pushed her partner away so she could continue addressing the children (now sporting a pink face).

A finger pointed directly at Yule. “You are going to be joining her, of course.”

Yule balked at her. “What? But I already know how to use magic!”

“Not nearly well enough, if Penelope found you half dead on the side of the road,” Minerva replied without missing a beat. She tutted her nephew with a wag of a finger. “Honestly, you were lucky she found you. I'm sure there would have been plenty of people happy to snatch you up. Or worse.”

Yule didn't say anything, though he did stare back with a silent glower.

Penelope could see that it was not going to work on Minerva though.

The fortitude of a middle aged woman is not something to be trifled with, Penelope thought sagely. Though Minerva seemed to be a league all of her own as she grabbed her nephew and rubbed her knuckles against his head, much to his protest.

“I was just unlucky, it won't happen again!”

“Tell me that again when you are 100 years older.”

“Nobody can get as old as you, you hag.”

“What was that? Did I hear you say something unpleasant you impolite nephew of mine?” She amped up the knuckle sandwich, making Yule yelp. Penelope was actually concerned, but Cynthia kept her back with a shake of her head and smile.

“They're just playing around Nellie, don't you worry your little head.”

“Really?” She glanced at the two relatives who were now staring each other down, Yule having squirmed his way out of his aunt’s grasp. “It seems intense.”

“I suppose from an outsider’s perspective that may seem true, but everyone shows how they care in their own ways,” Cynthia explained kindly. Having been brought up to speed by Yule and Minerva, she understood perhaps such displays were not the norm for her and did her best to reassure their little guest.

Penelope still thought this kind of rough play was a bit excessive, so she stepped up to diffuse the situation. Coming up beside Yule, she reached out and grasped his hand.

“Come on Yule. You can’t let me do lessons all by myself,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to take up all of your aunt’s time by myself.”

“No, please. Take it. Take all of it,” Yule replied swiftly.

“Now, Yule, you can’t just disappoint sweet Penelope so easily, could you? After all, we do owe her for looking after you,” Minerva pointed out, almost gleefully. The older woman shot her a look that said to make with the puppy eyes, which Penelope quickly screwed up to the best of her ability, though she probably looked more like a kicked puppy than a cute kitten.

There was a bit of grumbling, but he eventually agreed.

“I guess so.” He looked at Penelope. “Just until you get used to it, okay? After that you’re on your own.”

Delighted from just this, Penelope smiled brightly. On a whim she switched up how she held his hand, linking their pinkies together in a sign of a promise. 

“You promise you’ll be together with me?”

The words spoken by the young artist were innocent enough and should have sparked nothing more, perhaps, than a grunt of affirmation from Yule. His reaction, however, was not one she expected.

Yule’s face went entirely crimson, his jaw dropping at their linked pinkies. Minerva put a hand up to stifle a laugh, while Cynthia outright guffawed watching them. Penelope was completely confused.

Oh, no, did I do something weird?

The girl looked at the boy’s mortified (but flushed) face, then looked over at Minerva who had to look away, lest she lost her composure. Cynthia was still howling with mirth.

Seriously, what did I do? Did I commit some Iralonian faux pas?!

It was Cynthia who decided to take pity on the girl, going over to undo their linked pinkies. “My sweet girl, didn’t you know that only lovers who are about to propose link pinkies?”

Now it was Penelope’s turn to become bright red, steam practically rising right out of her ears as she processed that bit of information.

“Wh-what?! Seriously?!”

“Oh, yes,” Minerva piped up, still barely concealing her amusement. “Since the tenth king’s reign in Birain, when he proposed to his queen, it has become something of a tradition in our country that when you make a lifelong promise to someone, you link pinkies. You essentially proposed to Yule.”

Penelope internally screamed. She immediately apologized to Yule, waving her hands frantically as if to fan away the steaming hot red faces they had now, due to this situation.

“Ah, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it like that! I’m just happy you’ll do lessons with me and Minerva!” Truly, there was nothing else as embarrassing as this moment. The adults were having a good laugh about it, though, as Penelope flailed around trying to stop them. “Hey, stop laughing! I didn’t know! Yuuule, do something!”

When turning to her companion, he had a 1000 mile stare as he peered at his hand. Looked like he was clocked out of this one.

The laughter endured a little while until only a few occasional giggles left Cynthia and Minerva was finally able to screw a serious face back on.

Cynthia clapped her hands together. “You know what we need? A good meal. We can all talk more about what we are all going to do after we have ourselves some lunch. And I have an idea…” The Cyno female turned towards Penelope, who peered back up at her in curiosity. “I didn’t get to see your abilities for myself, but do you know if you can make things you never saw before?”

“Ah? No, not really. Everything I’ve made so far are things I remember really clearly or things I’ve seen,” Penelope replied.

“Well, how about we put you to the test? Better for us to have an idea of what you’re capable of. I can describe something for you and we’ll see if you can make it.”

Like those police sketches in detective dramas? Penelope thought to herself. It would be a good exercise for her, though she wasn’t confident she could pull something like that off. It would probably have to depend on Cynthia’s ability to describe what she wanted and the strength of Penelope’s own mind when she concentrated on her intent to create.

She nodded in acceptance, pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment.

Cynthia rubbed her hands together, grinning widely. “All right! Attagirl! Now listen closely…”

 

A large earthen pot, made with thick walls as to withstand the constant heat it would be subject to. A handle made of heat resistant metal adorned each side, so that people could easily pick it up and carry it off the heat. Within the depths of this pot swirled thickly cut ingredients, such as karo (carrots) and tata (potatoes), alongside savoury meat. A hint of a rich aroma would come from further in the depths, the gravy mixed together with a variety of herbs and red wine…

 

Penelope was carefully drawing every detail that she could, concentrating hard on what was being brought forth with her ability. When Minerva realized what was coming, she got Yule to help her clear an area so the item that would materialize would have space to do so. The artist heard offhand comments such as ‘glutton’ and ‘bigger than it needs to be’, but continued onward as she visualized and drew.

As it had every other time, the lines peeled off and formed, creating the foundation of her drawing in reality. It filled in the blanks when he mind could come up with nothing similar in her memories to compare it to. Yet, on hearing the description more and more, Penelope could only think of one thing that matched the description Cynthia gave her.

The scent of a savoury gravy hit their noses and Cynthia’s mouth watered, unfettered as the stew finished materializing with a solid thud at the space Minerva and Yule had made. The Cyno female looked to Penelope for permission and the girl gestured for her to go ahead.

Bowls were found and Cynthia ladled in the first serving. She took a moment to gently scent the food, shuddering in anticipation as it smelled divine and familiar. Gingerly, she took the first bite…and then promptly wolfed down the rest of the bowl and went for seconds! And thirds, and fourths…

“Waaah! This is the taste! I haven’t had this in ages. I could eat this for days!”

Seeing her partner’s enthusiasm, Minerva served out bowls for herself, Yule and Penelope. She tried a spoonful in a more reserved manner and sighed happily when she had a taste of the manifested stew. She knew this taste and closed her eyes to enjoy the flavour and memories coming to her. Yule enjoyed it, too, quietly smiling as he ate sedatedly.

Apparently, in Birain, this meal was something of a delicacy and one usually only upper class families got to enjoy regularly.

For Penelope though, this was the familiar taste of a hearty beef stew, one of the first recipes Kasumi ever learned how to make. Back when things were less stressful, before her sister was born and it was just Kasumi, her mother and father. The first time she successfully made this stew her family had been so happy eating it together with her, praising her. What a time had that been. She’d almost forgotten what that was like, eating a meal together with others.

“Hey, Minnie. Remember our reception? We had this served to everyone as a special treat. I’ll never forget that taste of that stew…more than anything, eating it together with you,” Cynthia mentioned fondly, sidling up next to Minerva. The mage blushed, but smiled, swatting at her partner playfully.

“Oh, you. More than anything, I just remember being happy I could be with you forever,” Minerva whispered, looking up at Cynthia fondly.

The two women stared at each other, their food forgotten for a moment as their pinkies intertwined and they simply gazed into the other’s eyes.

Yule looked decidedly disturbed. “Could you two please go get a room if you’re going to be like that. You’re going to ruin the food.”

Minerva gasped at him, feigning being scandalized. “Goodness, how rude! On top of magic lessons, maybe I should teach you some proper manners.”

“Says the mage making goo-goo eyes at her lover every chance she gets.”

“Say what?! Listen here you little–”

“Don’t mind them, Penelope,” Cynthia said, over her eleventh bowl of stew.

Penelope watched the two bickering relatives and nodded. It was strange to her, but not every raised voice meant something bad nor every argument ready to lead to violence. It even seemed like they were having fun.

Smiling to herself, she quietly ate her soup as Minerva and Yule shouted at each other and Cynthia kept Penelope company as they enjoyed lunch.

It’s a bit noisy, she thought, but it’s not bad.