“Mom, I’m tired / Can I sleep in your house tonight?”

 

Years had passed since Sybil last glimpsed Illis’ tower, but she still knew the way. It wasn’t far, either. In some manner of speaking, Sybil had never been able to leave. She could have chosen anywhere, but when she’d struck out on her own, Sybil had built her cozy little cabin in the same forest as Illis’ tower. At the time, her excuse was that, without her mentor’s presence, the neighboring towns would need someone new to provide those services which only the magically inclined could perform. As such, Sybil would have no trouble living comfortably with such a steady stream of customers. The assumption there wasn’t wrong, but Sybil had done little to take advantage of her magical monopoly in the area. Truthfully, her excuse was just that, an excuse. The real reason Sybil chose to make her home so close by was that, at the time, she hadn’t given up hope that, one day, Illis might return. Perhaps, even now, she still hadn’t fully let go. 

 

At age eight, Sybil’s birth parents had given her away to Illis; they had feared her for the magical potential she showed. Friends, relatives, loved ones of all sorts were suddenly excising her like some sort of tumor. Feeling unwanted like that at such a young age had, obviously, cut deep. For the first weeks, Sybil had viewed Illis more as a captor than anything. To the young witch, everything wrong in her life, from her loneliness, to her family’s rejection, to the very manifestation of her magic must have been the fault of the woman she’d been shipped off to. Obviously, then, she was terrified of Illis; during those early days, what little words her mentor could coax from Sybil mostly took the form of meek begging for her life to be returned to normal. Never once, though, did Illis lose her patience, scold her,or yell at her; Sybil was treated with only kindness and empathy back then. 

 

And, eventually, once Sybil had realized Illis had more love to give her than either of her birth parents ever had, she began to open up. For eight more years, Sybil lived with Illis, studied under her, sought her guidance, her comfort. Through Illis, she learned not to fear her magic, nor to feel shame for it; she learned to cook, to heal, to identify plants, to tend a garden and brew potions. Illis had even been instrumental in helping Sybil form her bond with Lady Hissruuk. There were times when it felt like Illis expected too much of her, but that was only because she’d seen just how far Sybil could go when pushed. Then, a few months after Sybil turned sixteen, Illis began to grow distant. She spent more and more time locked away in her study, skipped meals, even left what Sybil cooked and placed outside her door untouched at times. After the first few weeks, Sybil couldn’t help but wonder if her mentor’s distance was somehow her own fault. And then she didn’t have to wonder at all. 

 

Two long, lonely years, that time was all spent lingering within the safety of Illis’ tower, living off her garden, her chickens, and the occasional wild game caught in the traps Sybil would set each night. The only company she kept in those days was ‘Ruuk, which, admittedly, wasn’t entirely unlike the years following either. Through it all, Sybil did her best to ensure that, when Illis came back, the tower would be just how she left it. On the day of her disappearance, Sybil had ventured into Illis’ study, then searched her inner sanctum for any sign of her; she had found nothing. Twice more in those early days, Sybil entered in the hopes she’d missed something. Once she’d given up, Sybil never once set foot inside again; that way, when Illis returned, it would be just the way she’d left it.

 

Illis had never returned, though. Like everyone else, she’d abandoned Sybil.  And so, when Sybil finally gave up, and set out on her own, she had promised herself not to rely on anyone else. That was all before the dreams really took root, though. Now, more than anything, Sybil wanted someone to rely on. A part of her hoped that could be Madelyn, a part of her which nursed the smoldering embers of a forbidden thought in the back of her mind. And yet, despite everything she and Madelyn had been through, some other part of Sybil still cast doubt on her companion, told Sybil that she, like everyone else, would leave her; that was why Madelyn never appeared in her dreams. Of course, one dream stood as a bold faced exception to that, but it was one Sybil tried not to think too hard about. That dream was an outlier, one which fed kindling to the irrational little idea that still burned, despite the choking doubt all around it. 

 

They were getting close now. Soon Sybil might even catch a glimpse of that old, worn stone, peeking above the trees as she and Madelyn crested some hill or other. Hopefully the wards Sybil had placed on the tower before she left still held. They ought to have; the focusing crystal which powered Illis’ tower had little else to feed the ambient magic it collected. Which meant that, hopefully, the place would be untouched, preserved the same way it had been, all those years ago. How long had it even been? Six, seven, eight years? Sybil hadn’t really kept track. But if there was anywhere she could find a wight’s finger, it would be there, somewhere in Illis’ study. A hand lightly brushed her arm, Sybil’s turned.

 

“Hey, are you alright? You’ve been really quiet ever since, well, y’know.” Madelyn wasn’t wrong, but Sybil hadn’t been the only one. Neither had said much of anything to the other since they had set off. Something hung heavy in the air around the two. Each step they took toward that place seemed to carry the weight of such finality with it. One way, or another, this would be it. Maybe some way down the line something else might come up, Sybil might find some other way to conjure her, but something told Sybil that Madelyn wouldn’t be content to just sit around and wait like some obedient puppy while she sought a new solution. Especially after what had just happened between the two of them. The memory of how Madelyn had felt, had tasted, still sent tingles of phantom sensation all through Sybil. Denying it was impossible; Sybil craved more. 

 

“Hello? Sybil.” A hand was waving in front of her face, Madelyn’s hand. She’d spaced out again.

 

“Uh, sorry. We’re close now, only another half-hour or so.”

 

“That’s not what I asked.” Concern painted each of her words all manner of cautious, pensive shades. “Seriously, do you need to wait outside for this? If you let me inside, I’m sure I can find the finger, assuming it’s there.”

 

The words ‘wait outside’ had barely been uttered, when Sybil began to vigorously shake her head. “No, I need to do this. I need to go in, I need to see that she’s really gone.”

 

“Okay, just, let me know if you ever need a moment or anything.” That seemed to settle the conversation; Sybil nodded gratefully, and they continued onward. Not long after, they reached the top of the hill they’d been climbing, and from there, they had gained just the right amount of altitude to see the top of Illis’ tower. What felt like so much time had passed, but there it stood, perched atop the flatlands of the glade below. It stretched high above the trees, overgrown with ivy and moss, but otherwise remained sturdy.

 

“Jesus, your old mentor built that by herself?” Behind Sybil, Madelyn had stopped dead in her tracks, mouth agape in awe.

 

“I’m not sure who this Jesus person is, but yes, she did. Illis was old, older than she let on and a lot older than she looked. Never really did find out how old, but, when you get to be her age—which you can really only do by becoming obscenely powerful—there aren’t really a lot of rules that reality can impose on you.” As much as that tower was, more than anything, a giant monument to complicated feelings and traumatic memories, Sybil couldn’t deny that it was quite a sight to behold.

 

“And you really think we can find what we’re looking for in there?” Madelyn asked.

 

“Remember when I said it had to be you who went after the wight? Because if I did it the thing would just sense my magic and run away instead of risking facing me?”

 

“Yeah, I remember.” 

 

“Well, if I were at Illis’ level, the wight wouldn’t have even had the chance to run. I could have just barged in there and killed it on the spot. So if there was ever a reason for her to want a wight’s finger, she’d have no trouble getting it. Which makes her the best lead we’ve got.” Talking up her mentor like this after so long was strange. In many ways, Sybil felt almost as though she were gushing over Illis. And, to be fair, her old menor was very impressive. Why Illis had ever chosen to settle down amidst a forest in the middle of nowhere had always been a mystery to Sybil. But she was acting like some star-struck child, not a grown woman whose whole life had been thrown into turmoil due to that same woman’s heartlessness.

 

“You’ve got that look again, like you’d rather be anywhere else.” Pensively, Madelyn’s hand came to rest on Sybil’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It’s alright, you can do this.” For some reason, that helped. And realistically, Sybil did know the reason, but she needed to set it aside. Murmuring a quick thanks, Sybil gestured Madelyn to follow, and the pair continued on.

 

With each passing moment, the tower loomed ever larger, dwarfing Sybil in such a way that made her feel far too much like the scared, lonely child she’d been when she had first laid eyes on this place. At the bottom of the hill, the narrow, untended trail which Sybil had been leading Madelyn through became a proper path, albeit an overgrown one. She felt itchy, restless; no part of Sybil wanted to confront this place, no part save the tiny, hopeful voice which she had worked hard to suppress. The one that wondered if somehow, Illis had returned without Sybil knowing. Hope like that was dangerous, because Sybil knew it would only be crushed. Soon, the entrance to the tower was in sight; soon after she was standing before it, Madelyn just behind her, examining the wards she’d placed all those years ago. 

 

“So will this ward of yours even let me through?” Madelyn watched with quiet, nervous interest as Sybil ran her hands along the barrier lightly. 

 

“Not right now it won’t, but I’m working on it. They’ve held up pretty well, but should be pretty easy for me to reverse engineer to allow you in. Currently it’s only set to allow me, ‘Ruuk, and, well, Illis and her familiar through.” Admitting that felt stupid and overly sentimental; Illis was gone, and even if she ever did come back, why should she just get to walk right in unchallenged? And obviously, if Sybil had actually bothered to set the wards to keep Illis out, she could have easily dismantled them, but why go through the extra effort of making her feel welcome in the home she abandoned? Giving a frustrated sigh, Sybil pushed the thoughts from her head and set herself upon the task at hand. “Alright, yeah, this should work.  You should be able to go through now and—wait.” Eyes, wide, mouth slightly agape, Sybil stared in disbelief, not that she was really looking at anything. 

 

“What is it? Are you okay?” Worry wormed its way into each and every syllable Madelyn spoke; it was honestly really sweet, just how much she cared. Unfortunately, that wasn’t something Sybil had the capacity to dwell on, at the moment. All of her focus was currently narrowed in on one particular detail, which made her hands shake uncontrollably and knees buckle, which caused her stomach to knot while nerves, anger and hope all waged war within her.

 

“Someone’s been here, Madelyn. Someone who didn’t need to take down the barrier.” Even as the words tumbled from Sybil’s lips, the full meaning and implication of them was still setting in.

 

“So does that mean?”

 

“I don’t want to get my hopes up, but yeah.” The next several moments passed in silence as Sybil continued to stare blankly ahead. Could Illis really have come home? She’d wanted that for so long, spent so many nights thinking of what she would say to her mentor if they ever met again. Now though, Sybil mostly felt bitter, betrayed. The thought of looking Illis in the eyes again, having to ask her why, having to subdue the part of her that just wanted to forgive and forget, the anxiety of it all was crushing. And worst of all, that naive child in her felt sudden untamable hope. Shutting her eyes tight, Sybil took a few deep breaths, murmured one last incantation, and flicked her hands. The invisible barrier pulsed with energy, then stabilized. “We can go in now.”

 

Just as Sybil stepped forward to cross the threshold, Madelyn caught her wrist. “Wait, do you actually think she’s in there? I mean, I know I suggested the exact opposite, but given the circumstances, well, I can wait out here if you want.”

 

“No.” Not a moment passed for Sybil to think on the matter, she spoke suddenly, almost desperately. “Please, I—I want you here. Don’t want to do this alone.” Madelyn nodded. They crossed the threshold together. The entrance hall had been left undisturbed, as far as Sybil could tell. Though it was just a hall, there was little there to disturb. Leading the way, Sybil strode forward, trying to maintain an aura of purpose as nerves ate at her. After a moment’s hesitation, she set off toward the stairs; Illis’ study was at the very top of the tower, and Sybil would not allow herself to dawdle and check each and every room. 

 

Even if Illis had returned at some point, it seemed unlikely she’d stayed. And yes, it was true that the barrier had only been crossed once, but that only suggested all the more that Illis was long gone. If she really were living in the tower again, she’d likely have crossed it many times running errands or tending the garden. Most likely, Illis had dipped in, then teleported away or flown off the top floor balcony as soon as she’d gotten whatever it was she needed. Sybil made a mental note to check if the wards on the balcony had been traversed as well.

 

Still, as they crossed the long hallway toward the spiral stone stairs, Sybil couldn’t keep her eyes from briefly flitting and darting to look into each open door, in the hopes of catching some sign, but she saw nothing. Reaching the stairway, Sybil and Madelyn began their ascent, climbing floor after floor in relative silence. Climbing the stairs was taking longer than Sybil would have liked. Time seemed to have dulled her memories of just how many floors there were. The tower was much larger than any one witch should ever need, but many of the middle floors were built exclusively to properly house the massive focusing crystal that breathed life into all the lingering magics which both Illis and Sybil had cast upon the place. The excessive climbing wasn’t all bad, though; something about the familiarity and repetitiveness of walking them put Sybil’s mind somewhat at ease. And, for a time, Sybil was able to mostly clear her head and focus on the finger. That all changed when, about three quarters of the way up, she saw a little blue feather balanced upon the lip of one of the stairs ahead of her. She came to a sudden halt, causing Madelyn to nearly trip as she struggled not to plow right into Sybil.

 

“What is it?” The worry had crept back into Madelyn’s voice with a vengeance.

 

“That feather. Her familiar, Jasper, is a bluejay. It’s his. He was here, which means—” Words began to fail Sybil as emotion clogged her throat.

 

“Which means you were right. She was here.” Madelyn took a moment to find the right words, it seemed she didn’t. She continued anyway, “I don’t know what to say. Just -- are you okay?”

 

Sybil ascended a few more steps, then stopped low, plucked the feather, and placed it gently into a little vial which she kept in her pack. “I don’t know. When I suggested we come here, I never dreamed any of this would happen. But I guess it was nice to find this. Kind of forgot how much I missed him.” A small smile played an uneasy game of chicken with her lips; she brushed the feeling aside. “Let’s keep moving, we’re not far from the top.” Over her shoulder, Madelyn made a small noise of acknowledgement, and their climb resumed. 

 

The rest of their ascent occurred without incident, save Madelyn lightly stumbling on one of the stairs; upon reaching the top, they stood in one last stone hallway. Ahead was the entrance to Illis’ study; Sybil approached, and quickly found the prospect of reaching out and opening the door to be a monumental task. What would she find on the other side? The weight of that question pinned Sybil’s hand to her side. Was it really possible that Illis was here? Probably not, but twin flowers of hope and gut-wrenching anxiety had already bloomed within Sybil, then grown round and round one another ‘til they were hopelessly intertwined. Taking a deep breath, Sybil turned to her companion—though really, Madelyn had become so much more than that in so little time. 

 

“I think I need to do this part alone. Do you, um, do you maybe want to see my old room? There’s not much really there to see, but you could at least sit for a bit.” She gestured vaguely down the hall in the direction of her old quarters. 

 

“Yeah, I can do that. Let me know if you want any help looking around.” Offering one last encouraging, sympathetic smile, Madelyn turned heel and headed off. All that left for Sybil to do was actually enter.