The One

Fathoming the unfathomable

That was how, just as Izar pointed out who it was that would be transferring to Hominum, Feray found herself wrapped in a tight embrace by the person Izar had not mentioned. One second, Izar was just explaining how the educational system worked in Refica; the next, a girl had flung herself onto Feray. When that happened, the person the girl had been sitting with was still sitting on the bench. All four people froze in alarm for a moment.

"I finally found you!" the girl exclaimed. She looked into Feray's eyes, making misunderstandings impossible. Without waiting for a response, she turned to the male who was now standing up to walk to the group. "I caught her!"

Of the three who'd just come from Hominum, Izar was the first to recover. He chuckled and then placed his hand on the girl's forehead, prompting her to let go. "Who are you where did you pop out from and what business have you got with our dearie?" he asked in a single breath, a meaningless smile on his face.

"I'm Zanna Owen from right there and your dearie is my 'the one'!" Zanna answered in the same manner, gesturing toward the bench to indicate "where" she'd "popped out from".

"Friends?" Izar asked, speaking to the male who had just arrived.

"...I guess," he answered, though not without hesitation.

"Hey!" Zanna protested, "Why did you answer it like that? That makes me look shady."

"You look shady with or without my help," the male said.

Izar clapped his hands together once, calling for attention—and easily getting it. "In any case, we are all here—aside from Miss Owen; but if you're friends, you may join the conversation too."

Half an hour later, there in Bentley's living room, Izar had finished his explanation for both sides.

"So," Feray summarized, "You want this guy to spend two weeks at our place and then we spend two weeks here, before a full transferal."

"Yes," Izar confirmed, "Though I think this guy has a name and it's Bentley Snyder."

"My sister has rarely met other people her whole life so she might be a bit shy, please excuse her," Waylon said to Bentley. If they hadn't already been conversing for as long as they had, he might have believed it, given how sound Waylon's reasoning was and how serious he looked when he delivered it.

But anyone would know that Feray was anything but shy.

"Sure, I believe that," Bentley said instead. "Then," he began to ask, turning to Izar, "How long have you known about me?"

"Two years," Izar answered, raising two fingers to stress his point, "But you didn't seem to have any problems living here so I didn't do anything."

"In other words," Feray added, "He's a place holder and you just wanted someone from this side to enable the exchange."

"So that's what happened!" Zanna exclaimed as if it had just dawned on her. "Izar, you look nice, I can't believe you're actually kind of evil! I was just wondering why someone like you would pick on someone like Bentley."

"What's 'someone like me' and what's 'someone like Bentley' exactly?" Izar asked with the same smile—yet he did not wait for an answer. "That is the gist of it. What do you say?"

"Do we have a choice?" Waylon asked.

"Nope."

"Then why did you even ask?" Bentley remarked.

"Out of courtesy."

Feray sighed.

"What's the deal with Zanna?" Waylon asked later as he followed Bentley into his study. "You are friends, right?"

Preparing for Hominum—that was what Bentley was doing now. He glanced around in his own room and took a bag from under his desk. What would he need? Anything that contained any magic would, naturally, be left alone.

"I guess." His answer didn't change, even in Zanna's absence. "She lives next door. And her deal...well, she's kind of just naturally like that. She told me just today that she's waiting for 'the one' before she even goes to school." After a brief pause, he added, "Do you see anything useful here?"

"What does she even mean by that?" Waylon asked again. He looked around, then shook his head. "All you really need is a capable pair of hands and a brain."

"I honestly don't know. She said she'd know who it is by intuition—and then just jumped at your sister as soon as she saw her. I don't think she means the one in a romantic way though. And, what's that about a capable pair of hands and a brain?"

Bentley gave up on his search for a useful item and instead took a notebook from his drawer. He sat at the desk and started to take notes. Waylon stood next to him.

"I don't know how exactly it is here," Waylon began, "But where we're from, you can't tell how dangerous or powerful someone is just by looking at them. I assume that is a thing you can do in Refica, at least roughly."

"Pretty much," Bentley confirmed after a moment of thought. He tilted his head to look up at Waylon, resting his face on his palm.

"Where would you place Izar on the rankings?"

"Mm...I feel like he's actually quite powerful, but making an effort to hide it."

"Would you trust him?"

"Can't say I do, but he's definitely a lot nicer than most transferal witches."

Feray would have been with Waylon and Bentley if Zanna hadn't insisted on hanging around until the group made their way back to Hominum. As Feray glanced between Zanna, Izar, and Waylon, her brother gave her a nod: I'll ask about that weird girl in her absence, so just put up with it for now, his nod was telling her.

Defeated, the blue-eyed girl now sat on the sofa in the living room next to Izar as they waited for the guys to return from the hunt for useful belongings to bring to Hominum. Izar threw his arms behind his head and leaned back, seemingly relaxed—or simply enjoying the scene of Feray getting pestered by Zanna unfolding before his eyes. The short-haired girl was standing in front of Feray, bending forward to get a closer, fuller view of her.

"Up close, you look even prettier!" Zanna said, beaming so brightly she seemed to be emitting light all on her own.

"Um...thanks?"

"You are the one! I know it! Hey, Feray." The girl now plopped down on Feray's other side. She leaned against her. "Am I the one for you too?"

"W-Wait a second!" Feray objected. She tried to push Zanna off of herself—to no avail. "What do you even mean by that? What the one?"

"The one person you'll never betray, that you consider the best of pals, with whom you want to share everything. The one is that one person whose happiness you care about the most; you know, you would die for them and live for them and do anything for them, they're the one you understand the most and, no matter what they want, you want to give it to them? Oh, and—the most important thing is you want to be together forever and ever."

"Ah..." Feray tapped her own chin twice as she mulled over Zanna's definition. "That's a really good definition. But no, you're not the one for me."

"What?!" Zanna didn't seem offended—she merely showed an exaggerated pout. "Oh no, is it one-sided devotion on my part? Is the feeling not mutual?"

"Is that sort of thing ever mutual?"

Feray almost didn't recognize Izar's voice. It was different from his usually playful tone, and it was also not the serious tone he used when explaining something. This was something akin to a whisper, something meant only for his own ears. At the sound of that rare tone of voice, Feray turned to him only to find that his posture hadn't changed, except now his eyes were closed.

"It is," Feray answered.

At that response, Izar opened his eyes to glance at her. The silver of his eyes was filled with enquiry; they demanded an explanation. But she did not offer one. As a substitute, she shifted her gaze to the door that just opened—and then to Waylon, who stepped out right before Bentley did.