Bee And Foxglove

Foxglove Lights The Hearth

Author's note: I made a name for the world where this story takes place: Phaestos. This is now introduced in the first chapter. 

--

"It's okay, you can cry," said Foxglove gently. "I'm comfortable with it. Please, come in."

Foxglove ushered Francis and Vincent inside and brought Francis to the sofa. She sat down beside him, gazing at him compassionately. At the dining table, Bee quietly handed Vincent a bowl of ice cream, eating the rest out of the tub.

"We waited for two days," said Francis, through sobs. "They set up the town hall for people like us, and we just sat there and waited. We saw her a couple of times."

"Sarah Edelweissdaughter?"

"Yes. She looked okay. She smiled at us."

Foxglove blinked in confusion.

"I mean, I was surprised when someone said she was just thirty-two. She had white hair, and was walking in a somewhat hunched-over manner. But she seemed okay."

"What happened?"

"Sarah died."

Foxglove was stunned.

"They think it was a stroke. Apparently she just, well... finished a healing and... fell over. And that was it."

Bee stared blankly at Francis, still holding her spoon aloft.

Francis wept again. "To be so near, and yet so far! The healer who can't heal herself! I don't know if the Universal Tree just loves bitter irony, or..."

Foxglove seemed to recover from her shock, and squeezed Francis' hand. "This must have been so hard for you," she said.

Francis nodded, unable to speak through tears.

*

Francis' tears died down eventually, and Foxglove insisted on them staying the night. She made a little fire in the hearth, even though it wasn't that cold, and Bee entertained them with a gorgeous magical light show.

Later, Foxglove played the clarinet and Francis recounted stories. Vincent pitched in with a story of his own, a slapstick kind of thing that had Bee in hysterics.

In a world such as this, you make your own entertainment. There were certainly dull moments in Phaestos, but there are times I'd rather give up my smartphone and live there.

*

Vincent and Francis left promptly in the morning. It was only then that Foxglove could talk to Bee about something that had been quietly eating at her since the day before.

"Bee," she said, "You've got to stop doing magic."

"What?" said Bee.

"Sarah daughter of Edelweiss died. Just dropped dead. What if it happened to you?"

Bee laughed a little, disbelieving. She opened her mouth to argue, then caught herself. Instead she centred herself, gazed at Foxglove compassionately, and spoke from that place. "Honey. You really think I might die from doing magic?"

"I — I don't know! I'm so scared, Bee!"

Bee nodded, frowning. "You're scared," she reflected.

"Yeah," said Foxglove. "I really am. I don't know what to do."

"You don't know what to do."

"Yeah."

"How do you feel now?"

"Still scared. A little better. Um... I'm thankful you heard me."

Bee nodded. "Can I speak about my feelings?"

"Yes?"

"I'm scared. I mean, maybe you're right and I have to stop. But maybe we just never know and we're just always a little worried. I don't want to live like that, Foxy."

Foxglove nodded, wide-eyed. "I have to find out the truth," she said in a quiet voice.

Bee nodded. "I'm with you."

Foxglove studied Bee's face. She appeared deeply earnest. "Thank you, Bee," said Foxglove, before moving in for a hug.

Bee held Foxglove close, stroking her hair softly and murmuring her name. It was a sweet, sweet moment, one of those moments where time seems to become irrelevant.

At last, Foxglove pulled back to look Bee in the eyes. "Could you stop doing magic for a while, Teddybee?"

Bee looked very uncertain. "For how long?"

Foxglove looked down. "I don't know."

"I really don't want to, honey," said Bee softly. "I've been fine until now. I think this thing with Sarah Edelweissdaughter is just a coincidence. People just... die suddenly sometimes. It's crazy, but it does happen."

"I really hope you're right, Bee."

"I hope so too."

Foxglove sighed. "You just really love your magic, right?"

"Right," said Bee softly. "It's like it's a part of me. Like losing it would be like losing part of my body."

"Could you not... put that part of your body in a sling for a while?"

Bee frowned. "Can I think about it?"

*

Bee and Foxglove revisited this conversation several times in the next days. I will spare you all of the details. Eventually, however, they came to the conclusion that Bee would take special care to avoid the kind of overexertion which caused her to sleep until noon the next day. (Never mind that Bee had consistently slept an extra hour each day since discovering her magic. That was the new status quo. But anything more than that was to be considered a warning sign).

Because of Bee's great enthusiasm and love of magic, and out of respect for her genuine belief that it was safe, they agreed not to impose any other limits.

Feeling complete around that process, Bee and Foxglove rode to Welltoudere. Foxglove had a fierce desire to see the de Welltouderes' magical library.