Chapter Text
You like your quiet, normal life. A life where magic doesn't really exist. You live in a medium-sized city in the south of the US, have an unexciting job at a bakery, and live in a simple, but comfortable, apartment. Your life is no more, nor less complicated than that of the friends you've made here. They have no idea what you really studied in Kathmandu. To them, you are one of those backpack travelers who has settled here for a while. Maybe forever, maybe not.
All they know is that you grew up in Asia because your mother worked there, and that after graduation you traveled the world until you finally ended up here.
It’s all true, actually. You just leave the part out where your mother is a Master of the Mystic Arts. You even got that title yourself before you decided to explore the world.
You don't want to complicate things unnecessarily.
Your day at the bakery starts early.
After the store is all set up and the goods are fresh out of the big ovens, your boss Suzie takes over the counter while you make deliveries. The orders mostly come from seniors who aren’t good on their feet anymore but still don't want to miss out on their baked goods for breakfast. But some also go to the staff of the small hospital and some offices.
The bakery is quite popular and appreciated locally, and you do your route gladly. On quiet days, you also like to chat with the patrons, especially the older ones. Here in the south, people are kind and chatty, and you’ve grown quite fond of them.
You're back in the store for the morning rush hour, as the second batch bakes in the back room.
Your shift ends in the early afternoon, when you either do some shopping on your own or meet up with friends.
It is a nice life, and you are grateful for it.
On the other hand, you have been in this city for quite some time, longer than anywhere else on your journey. you’ve started feeling restless,a need for change, for some kind of task. A gnawing in the back of your mind that has been making you want to pack your bags and see something new.
It's a sunny afternoon, except for a brief downpour that lasts twelve minutes. You wait for it to be over at the entrance of the supermarket, and then bring your purchases home dry.
After a snack, you go to your neighbor, Mrs. Cedar, who lives in the house across the street, an old lady who asks you to help her gardening every now and then.
She taught you how to weed out the beds and when to harvest ripe fruits and vegetables, depending on the season. Mrs. Cedar's hip isn't the best anymore, especially since she had surgery last year, but you don't mind the work and are happy to help the kind woman.
Besides, you are always generously rewarded with a share of the harvest.
She asks you about your day, how Suzie, your boss, is doing, and if you have met a nice young man yet. Then you get the latest gossip from the neighborhood: Sam, the Gordons' little son has started school, yes really, he's that old already. And Ruddothy from the dry cleaning is retiring soon. His youngest will take the business.
Over the course of the last month, you heard many stories about people you'd never met.
By early evening, the gardening is done and you take your leave, not without promising Mrs. Cedar to get her a bag of new topsoil from the store soon, since the old one had been used up.
Back home, you gather up the mail you forgot earlier and look through it while you put yesterday's leftovers in the oven. There's a bill, some advertising, and a slightly thicker envelope with no addressee. This is unusual and you open it right away.
To your surprise, a single, small object falls out, without any letter or card. You recognize it immediately: it is the sling ring of the Ancient One, your former master.
You hold it between your fingers, shocked. This can only mean one thing, but you don't like the thought at all. She could not be dead. She had always been there, and you simply cannot imagine anything could have killed her.
The Ancient One had always been very supportive of you in your youth, during your training in the Mystic Arts. She was your mentor. You had even been in the prophecy as the one next in line to be Sorcerer Supreme . But that was before you decided to leave the temple and travel the world.
Mixed feelings rise in you. First, sadness, but also guilt for not having been there, not even knowing what exactly happened.
Your stove signals that the meal is ready, and you turn it off, though you've lost your appetite. Instead, you sit down on the carpet in the living room and until your mind projects into the Astral Plane. It's a technique you still perform regularly to stay in practice. Today, however, you have a specific goal, and you send your mind off to look for the Ancient One or her magic. You can't believe she would have just left. Surely she had made arrangements, left something behind that would bring her back.
You search and search, but you find nothing.
Finally, you return to your body and stretch your legs from the previous cross-legged position.
Life goes on, she had always said, whether you are there or not.
You do get the pizza out of the oven now, just to do something.
Maybe it's time to go back, you think. The letter felt like a call from home. As if an old relative had suddenly contacted you and reminded you of your roots.
There's no rush. You still have some responsibility here. Also you don't want to abandon Suzie with such short notice. But you know from experience that your few personal belongings can be gathered and packed quickly.