The One

Saying goodbye

Two weeks passed that way. Every day, Feray visited a new place, always dragging Bentley along. Sometimes Waylon joined them too, sometimes he would be on an errand. Every evening, the siblings spent time with their parents as soon as the latter returned home. Then, on the last day, a knock came on the door in the evening, right after dinner time had passed. At the time, the whole family and Bentley were gathered in the living room, chatting away anxiously while waiting for the witch's arrival.

When the moment finally came, the knock sounded to them much louder than it could have been in reality. As the person sitting closest to the door, Feray stood to answer it.

"Good evening." Izar raised a hand in greeting, his smile as consistent as it was bogus.

"Is it time?" Waylon asked from where he was, a few feet away.

"I'm afraid so. But before we go, may I have a look at the room Mr. Snyder will be staying when he returns?"

At the question, Bentley looked at Hilda and Mathias, whom exchanged a glance at the same time, missing the younger male's gaze. Mathias adjusted his glasses and nodded. He rose from his seat and led the way to what used to be the guest room. Izar followed, as did everyone else except Hilda, who remained in the living room alone.

"You're planning to leave the dearies' rooms as they are, then?" Izar guessed.

Mathias nodded once. "At least for now." His voice was soft and calm, yet as his hand touched the doorknob, he stopped, hesitating for a moment before turning it.

Nobody missed that reluctance. Waylon nudged Feray; simultaneously, Izar and Bentley stepped aside to make room for her. The girl tugged at her father's free hand. He shifted his gaze from Izar to her in response.

"Hm?" Mathias enquired, smiling.

At first, she said nothing.

"Feray?" he prompted again.

"Dad, you know that it's okay even if you cry. There is no rule on earth that says a man shouldn't cry," Feray said. More gently than she usually was with her brother, she opened her arms and wrapped them around her father—without tearing her gaze away from him.

Mathias let out a soft chuckle, returning her gesture with a warm embrace that she, fortunately, was still very much familiar with despite her age. "What are you saying?" the man said under his breath, his crystal blues glistening. "You and I have always been the only people in this house to ever shed tears."

At this comment, Waylon purposefully looked away just as Bentley glanced at him in curiosity. Meanwhile, Izar erased himself from the scene altogether, quietly slipping into what would soon become Bentley's room.

As if on cue, Hilda arrived at the scene. Feeling somewhat redundant—if not an obstruction altogether—Bentley followed Izar into his room.

"You came after all," Waylon said to his mother.

"I could feel the gossip all the way from the living room," she said, looking pointedly at Mathias with a smile.

"...I was just having a moment," Mathias replied, mirroring her smile.

Hilda sighed. She glanced back and forth between her two children. "We've lived all of your lives dreading this day and also hoping it wouldn't come—though we thought Feray was the only one involved. In a sense...this is the best we could have hoped for. Aside from not being found out at all, that is."

"I agree," Waylon said with his arms crossed.

"You've both grown so much," Mathias said, "...excuse me. I mean, you're both adults now, technically, but I still see you as a seven-year-old." At the second comment, he tapped Feray's nose—even though she would soon turn eighteen, she only reached his shoulders in height.

"Then I'll always be seven when I'm with you," Feray said, grinning, "What does it matter?"

"The point is that you won't be with me anymore, silly."

"In our hearts we will always be." That came from Waylon.

"Oh?" Hilda arched an eyebrow. "Since when did you learn how to sweet-talk like that?"

"And with a straight face too," Feray added.

"No wonder Reina likes you so much," Mathias finished.

"...please."

Once inside the room, Bentley closed the door behind him. He found Izar kneeling by the bed, his hand on the wall.

Without turning, the witch asked, "How did you know I'd want the door closed?"

"Just a feeling."

"What kind of?"

"Gut feeling. What are you doing?"

He watched as a dark green mist covered a small part of the wall. When the mist subsided, what looked like a mailbox appeared. Izar pushed the mailbox, and it retracted back into the wall until the spot returned to exactly how it was before he had even entered the room.

"Check to see if they're ready. Bring the siblings in," Izar commanded, rather than answering the question.

Nevertheless, Bentley did as he was told.

"Put your hand here," Izar told the three of them. The door was once again closed; Hilda and Mathias had returned to the living room at his request.

One after the other, Bentley, Waylon, and Feray placed their palms on the spot on the wall where the mailbox had been installed—albeit invisible at the moment. Izar's explanation began only after that was done.

"This spot will recognize only the three of you," he said, "Well, when Bentley Snyder comes back alone, he will be the only one capable of accessing it. I will say this only once, so listen carefully: you place your palm here for recognition, and the mailbox will appear. After that, simply put whatever you want to send to the other world into the box and put your hand on this same spot again to hide the device."

"Where does it connect to?" Waylon asked.

"Mr. Snyder's bedroom in Refica. I haven't set it up yet but will do so once we're there."

"Their parents can't access it?" Bentley asked, "Even if you add their palm prints?"

"Because you are the only one who has ever used a magical device. Since you have been in contact with similar things before, you will be able to use one even in Hominum; the couple has not, and so they will not."

"Hm..." Feray tapped her chin in thought. "Why would you do something like this? Isn't that illegal?"

"It is indeed," Izar answered, his smile somehow shining even brighter. "But we are all accomplices now, aren't we? You won't betray me, will you, dearie?"

Ah, so that's why, Feray thought. In that case...

Without any sort of forewarning, she threw her arms around the witch. "Maybe you're a shady guy, but you're a nice kind of shady guy!"

"...is that a compliment?" Bentley mumbled to Waylon.

The brother nodded solemnly.

Izar reached out too, but only enough to catch her and himself such that the sudden force of the girl throwing herself at him would not send them both tumbling. He chuckled. "You wouldn't even let me touch your hand before, and now you're throwing your whole self at me. Manipulative, aren't you?"

Waylon cleared his throat. Feray released Izar.

"No, no. I'm just excited about being able to communicate with my family and Bentley. Nothing to do with you."

Bentley raised an eyebrow. "Uh...huh."