Magic's Memories

Chapter Eighteen

"I thought we were eating mid-meal," said Feyla as she stared up at the city's Healer's Guild house. It wasn't as large as Delia's, but despite being stationed in an older part of the city and squished tight between two other buildings, it stood with an aged dignity and its carefully painted sign gleamed with diligent upkeep.

"We are. There's no need to go elsewhere when we can eat right here." Her mother led her inside the house, and into the main entrance where a growing throng of feys moved about. Some were pressing inward, seeking treatments here due to the attack on the other healing house while others hurried away, clutching potions and bandages while muttering about the dangers of further attacks. Tension hung about the air, replacing the comfort that usually resided in healing houses.

Her mother led her away from the throng and up the stair to the private chambers reserved for guild leaders. Feyla's eyes fell on a table already set with fish, greens, and tea for two. Arilla gestured to one of the chairs and Feyla took her seat.

Her mother tisked her tongue and took Feyla's loose hair in her hands. Calling on years of prior practice, she pricked at the few knots in Feyla's hair and began twisting the rest up. "You have such pretty hair, lovely. I don't know why you don't tie it up properly. It's unseemly for a girl your age."

Feyla ignored the tugging at her skull as her mother twisted her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and secured it with the extra pins she always kept on her. Arilla hummed contently once she was done. "There's my daughter."

Feyla touched her hair as her mother took the seat across from her. A wisp of hair came loose from Arilla's matching bun before the older woman secured it back into place with her final pin. "Much better. Now, how have you been, lovey? Really?"

Feyla picked up her fork and ignored the cold air that now drifted across her neck. "Good! I've been really happy here, actually."

Arilla's shoulders relaxed. "I was so worried after what happened on your last mission. I know how seriously you took our vows. Which is as it should be." She poured them both some of their shared favorite tea and nodded her head in agreement with herself. "I wasn't sure about this break of yours at first, but I think it's been good for you. And what an excellent time to make you reentrance."

"Mother—" Feyla started, biting back her rising frustration. "We've talked about this. I'm not rejoining the guild."

"Do you know you'll be working with Daydrel again? He's such a nice young man; I've always liked him. I wouldn't be surprised if he made guild leader within the next few decades." Arilla placed a cup of tea in front of Feyla. Steam floated off it like a smoke warning.

"Did you hear me?" Feyla asked, digging her nails into her palm.

"Oh, I did," her mother said, still smiling pleasantly. She took a sip of her tea. "You should stop by the equipment room on your way out. Your gear must be outdated and Jaerick should be around to help you."

Feyla slammed her hands down on the table. Cups and silverware clattered as she stood from her seat. "I'm not part of the guild, I don't want to be part of the guild, and you. Are not. Listening!"

Arilla stared up at her for a long moment. She placed her cup back on the table. It clinked against the wood louder than it should have. "Sit back down, lovey."

"Mother!"

"Sit," she said through clenched teeth.

Feyla swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She lowered herself back down onto her seat and took a sip of her tea.

"Good. Now, I've put up with this stubbornness of yours long enough. Your reaction to breaking your oath was understandable at the time, and I made allowances for your behavior. Perhaps too many. But understand me, daughter, that behavior ends now. I won't have a child of mine abandoning her calling to flounce around the kingdom catering to the whims of a mage of all people. It's beneath you."