Without a Love Sorceress

Skidding to a stop, I managed to barely avoid slamming into my door. I needed to talk to Madam Claire. I needed to tell her my feelings. I reached for the doorknob, pulled it aside and…

...was met with my own cottage.

Backing up, I searched over the door. It only had one handle now: just an ordinary, iron handle.

Fear shot through me.

The intricate golden doorknob to Madam Claire’s hut was gone.

“No no no,” I mumbled to myself as I felt over the door one more time. “Where is she? Claire! Claire, please, I need to talk to you!”

I started knocking on the door restlessly. When that didn’t work, I brought out the opal-like stone from my vest pocket. I tapped it, but nothing happened. No matter how many times I called, the stone was dark and silent.

“Do I just need to wait?” I wondered aloud, panicking. “Didn’t she say she would send me home? Am I trapped here?”

I shook my head. It wasn’t being stuck in Farelle that I was worried about.

“...Will I forget her?” I asked, my voice breaking, as I slammed my fist against the door one more time.

The sun slipped behind the hills, the sky darkening, as I tried to steady my breaths. Claire wouldn’t leave me here alone, I knew that. But what if something wasn’t letting her reach me?

“Hey, Rokkun!” Toren’s voice carried over the fields. I glanced up at him, almost in despair. He grew concerned as he saw my face. “Is everything alright?”

I shook my head, at a loss for how to explain my situation.

“You must have one awful hangover to sleep so late and still look so terrible!” Toren grinned. “I’ve been searching all over for you! I wanted to ask if you put some elf magic on that Tana-bu-bu thing.”

I barely had the energy to correct his butchering of 'Tanabata.' I focused on the part that interested me. “Elf magic?”

“Yeah,” Toren tilted his head, flicking his tail, “because the bam-boo stick started glowing a little while ago.”

“Glowing?” My expression perked up. I grabbed Toren’s shoulders. “Take me to it!”

“Uh, okay?” Toren was a little confused by my desperation, but gladly led me towards the open field where we’d drunkenly set up our miniature Tanabata celebration last night.

Sure enough, as the sun dipped lower, the bamboo stick shined brighter. It had the same glow as my magical vision that let me see the ‘life connection’ of trees. Madam Claire must have left this as a message for me — but why?

I ran for the bamboo stick, and started untying the paper wishes. I laid them out against the nearby picnic table.

The first paper was Mia’s. ‘I wish for good rains for next year’s harvest.’ A practical wish, a fitting one. I put hers aside and tried the next.

It was mine. ‘I wish this night would never end.’ I winced as I saw it. Even in my drunken state, I knew that was dumb thing to write.

Still didn’t stop me from wishing I could have stayed in that moment forever.

Sighing, I grabbed one more, hoping it would be Claire’s. Instead, I got what looked like a child’s drawing. There was a circle with a face just barely drawn inside the squiggly lines, and a bunch of scratch marks representing hair.

“Uh, Toren?” I guessed, showing him his Tanabata paper. “What is this?”

Toren went red in the cheeks. “I’m still learning to write and my handwriting’s awful!” he whistled, embarrassed. “So I drew Mia instead.”

I stifled my laughter. I was so tense, so worried about Claire, but couldn’t keep a straight face when I looked at this drawing. That was supposed to be Mia?

“Don’t laugh!” Toren turned even redder, his tail puffing up. “She’s very beautiful!” The half-beast folded his arms. “And I drew her because my wish...my wish was to be able to talk to her like I used to. And not freeze up.”

I wanted to offer Toren some advice, but didn’t know what to say — and I didn’t have the time. I reached for the final paper, knowing it had to be Claire’s.

But it was blank.

“Nothing?” I murmured. How could there be nothing? She had to leave me a message! What else was I supposed to do?

In my frustration, I dashed my arm across the table and sent the papers flying. I watched as the red strips fluttered to the ground. Some of them had writing on the backsides.

Frantically, I reached out and grabbed my own wish. On the back it read: ‘If you’ve decided to go home, tear the blank paper.’

I was about to follow the command without a second thought. But before I did so, just to be safe, I grabbed the other wish that had writing on the backside. It was Mia’s.

When I read it, I knew I had to tell him.

“Toren,” I caught the cat boy’s attention. “You know, I never asked, but why do you call me Rokkun?”

Toren blinked, surprised. “I dunno, it suits you, I guess? I like calling my friends by nicknames!”

He’d considered us friends for that long?

“Here, then read this, Tor...Toricchi?” I struggled, trying to come up with a nickname for him in return.

I handed Toren the backside of Mia’s wish.

In small handwriting in the corner, barely visible, Mia had written: ‘I wish Toren would talk to me more.’

The half-beast read over the paper again and again, in disbelief.

“You should be the one to look after Mia.” I told him. “If it’s you, Toricchi, I know Mia will be happy.” I then reached out and prodded his chest. “But only if she chooses you. Got it?”

Toren was still stunned into silence, but a big smile unfolded on his face.

I took Claire’s blank wish paper and held it in my hands.

“I don’t know what’s about to happen,” I said nervously. “But look after everyone, will you?”

Without waiting any longer, I ripped the paper in half.

One of Claire’s invisible portals opened under me, and I fell through it.

↞♡↠

Shouting, I landed yet again into Madam Claire’s hut, hitting the wooden floor with an ungraceful thud. Normally I’d be upset, but the pain was momentary compared to the sight when I opened my eyes.

Madam Claire’s hut was empty. There were no floating candles, no purple rugs, no ridiculously ornate pieces of furniture.

It was just a dim, square room. Only the void twinkling outside the windows let me know I was in the right place.

A table stood alone in the middle of the room, lit by an oil lamp. I stood up and walked closer.

Silently, a white envelope waited for me. A lipstick stain was on the cover, next to the beautifully written word: ‘Sayonara.’

“Don’t you dare,” I whispered.

With numb hands, I pulled open the envelope. I was then blinded by light, and had to shield my eyes.

When I blinked again, Claire’s hut was gone, replaced by a vast white field. It was impossibly blank: no horizon, no features, just white emptiness.

“Jun,” I heard Claire’s voice. “So you decided to go home after all.”

I turned, and there she was: standing against the white backdrop like a splash of color. Her purple dress, her bright blonde hair. I was so happy to see her that I reached out to hug her and—

And I went right through her, like she was a ghost.

“I’m sorry. Both for hiding the way to my hut, and for what I’m about to tell you.” Claire looked towards me sadly. “This is an illusion I’ve put into the letter. Like a magical voicemail, if you would. I’m not really here.”

I felt my stomach drop. “Then where are you?”

Claire’s image smiled. “I can only respond with what I’ve left in the letter.”

With every word, my chest grew colder. I kept feeling like somehow I was already too late.

“It may be selfish,” Claire said, linking her hands together and stepping away from me, “but before I leave, I want you to know the truth. Even if fate steals away these memories in the future. At least for a little while,” she spoke softly, “you will know everything.”

Claire unfurled her hands and spun around. Suddenly the white void came to life: filled with a bright blue sky, doves taking flight overhead, and the bustling sounds of a city. A bell chimed in the distance, and shining buildings towered overhead: looking like a castle town built out of architecture from some renaissance past.

“Let me tell you briefly about the young magician Clarisina,” Claire announced, gesturing to herself, “and how she cast a love spell that nearly ended a world.”