The trill of the birds wove a morning melody, mixed with the murmur of the wind among the conifers. There, among tall trunks and the floor carpeted with pine needles, the laughter of Cadin echoed, as she ran from one side to another like a restless rabbit. The little girl stirred the forest tapestry with her small feet, jumping and hiding, though she always looked askance to make sure that Finia and Casia were still following her.
"Aunt Ninia!" she suddenly shouted, jumping out from behind a pine tree. "Did I scare you?"
Finia faked an exaggerated startle.
"Oh, little one! Do you want to scare your aunt to death?"
Cadin let out a mischievous giggle before running off again, in search of a new hiding spot.
"Thanks for playing with my little sister," Casia said, quickening her pace until she reached Finia. "She's already gotten used to going to Master Dyan's house."
"Oh, don't worry, we both love having her around." Finia pushed a wavy lock of hair from her face and smiled. "She's a very sweet child. We love her very much at home. I'm sure Dad adores her."
Casia looked up at the canopy of branches, where glimpses of sky filtered through. "I didn't know Master Dyan had a daughter. I was quite surprised when Frila told us." She took a couple of steps forward, her hands in her pockets. "My parents were also surprised... and thanks to that, my mother no longer thinks about marrying me to him. Luckily."
Finia laughed softly. "I understand the confusion." She fell silent for a few seconds, hesitating to say more, until the words burst out with a hint of emotion. "Actually... we're not father and daughter. But, in a way, we are."
Casia raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"It's not that complicated." Finia lowered her voice, as if she were revisiting her own memories as she spoke. "Dyan is my master; he's looked after me since I was about seven, almost like Cadin now." Her throat closed for just an instant before she continued. "He made my life happier. He taught me everything I know... and he pushed me to be better. Isn't that what a father does?"
Casia nodded, thoughtfully. "I suppose so... yes, it is."
At that moment, Cadin stopped in a clearing. The sunlight filtered through the branches, bathing her messy brown hair as if crowning it with gold.
"I almost lost you! Hurry up!" she shouted, waving her arm with enthusiasm.
"We're coming," Casia replied, laughing. Then she turned to Finia in a lower tone. "I'm glad to see Master Dyan in better spirits. When he arrived, he seemed very sad... as if he were forcing himself to smile. But now his gaze is different."
Finia looked down. The memory of that departure still weighed like a shadow, and she preferred not to stir it up.
"A lot has happened. But yes... this place has been good for us."
"By the way, wasn't he going to come with us?"
"I don't think so." Finia shook her head. "He was checking the house's inscriptions, and when he's focused, it's hard to pull him away from what he's doing." She raised her hand and gestured to Cadin not to wander too far.
"That's a shame," Casia murmured. "Frila likes Master Dyan very much."
Finia laughed, feeling awkward, as she tucked her hair behind her ear.
"Hurry, hurry!" Cadin insisted from the clearing.
"We're coming!" Casia replied, raising her voice, a smile on her face.
Cadin ran at full speed, taking little strides, her arms open like wings, as the breeze ruffled the strands of her hair. She carried nothing but an innocent laugh, free of obligations and duties, a joy that, without meaning to, she spread wherever her feet landed. The little girl moved toward the riverbank without slowing down for an instant, where Frila waited for her with her parents, Eunid and Anidia.
Eunid was bent over an improvised campfire, struggling with the flint stones, while Anidia took pieces of meat and vegetables from a basket to thread onto skewers. Frila fluttered around, gathering dry branches. The constant murmur of the river wrapped the scene in a pastoral, almost unreal calm.
When Finia and Casia reached the clearing, Eunid raised his huge hairy arm in a greeting.
"Thanks for coming," Finia said, stepping forward to help.
"You're welcome; you always welcome my little one with affection." Eunid grumbled a little, trying to light the campfire. "And Master Dyan?"
Finia, seeing that Eunid was only getting smoke and dead sparks, snapped her fingers. Fire suddenly erupted among the branches and logs, lighting up with a cheerful crackle.
"He stayed at home, doing research. I suppose he'll be at it all day."
Eunid stepped back, surprised by the ease with which the flames danced to the rhythm of her gesture.
"Wow..." He wiped the sweat from his forehead. "What a shame. Cadin fell asleep talking about how she was going to play with you today." He looked toward the bank, where the girl was already taking off her shoes to splash around with Frila. "Even if it doesn't seem like it, I'm sure she misses him."
Finia understood that feeling all too well. There were nights when Dyan disappeared on errands for the queen, too dangerous to take her with him, and she was left with that bitter taste of abandonment. Back then, she was just a child, who saw in him a savior, a demigod in flesh: any of his spells or words amazed and terrified her at the same time. Now she understood him better: he was human, fragile even... and perhaps because of that, more valuable, more relatable.
She smiled.
"Aunt Ninia, come play with me!" Cadin shouted, holding up her dress as she splashed on the bank. "The water is fresh!"
Frila was already holding up the bottom of her skirt, ready to follow her.
Anidia approached the campfire with a plate full of meat and vegetable skewers. "Go with them and relax, Finia. There's not much to do here except make sure the food doesn't burn, and Eunid is an expert at that."
The archmage blushed slightly. "Yes, thank you."
It was a strange feeling: to be treated as just another girl, as part of an ordinary family. Something new, refreshing, that filled her chest with contradictory emotions. She wanted to stay in that moment forever, in that peace of children's laughter and simple meals, and at the same time felt the weight of her duty crushing her: the archmage could not afford such indulgences, she knew. And yet... how could she return to the solemnity of the rites, after tasting the flavor of freedom?
She untied her sandals by the bank, remembering how many new things she had experienced in Glavendell. Never before had she bathed in a river with friends, laughing like a carefree child. There, no one demanded that she seem unflappable or bear the weight of generations. There, she was just Finia.
Cadin approached without leaving the water, holding up her dress with both hands so it wouldn't get wet.
"Look, Aunt Ninia!" she lifted her bare feet under the crystal-clear water, wiggling her toes while some small fish swam between her legs. "The fish like Cadin too!" She smiled with her whole mouth, showing the gaps and her growing teeth.
Finia put her sandals aside.
"The fish know how to recognize a good girl," she replied with tenderness. "That's why they play with you."
A shy cloud slipped in front of the sun, as if an invisible finger pushed it, painting the sky with a soft veil.
"Finia, come in the water!" Frila called from further in.
The mage gathered her tunic and, taking Cadin's hand, advanced with hesitant steps over the slippery stones on the riverbed. The water was fresh, light, and for an instant she believed she could leave behind all duty, all weight, to simply be... free.
Then she slipped.