The forest was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or chirping of distant birds. Sunlight trickled through the canopy, casting dappled patches of light onto the forest floor, where Theos crouched, his brow furrowed in concentration. He carefully sifted through the soil, his small hands searching for roots as Roseville had taught him. Nearby, she knelt, her attention focused on a cluster of herbs growing wild between the stones.
"Theos," Roseville called gently, her voice carrying the familiar warmth that seemed woven into every word she spoke.
"Remember, look for the smaller roots beneath the surface. Those are the ones with the medicinal oils we need."
He looked up, catching her eye. "I know," he said, a shy grin creeping onto his face. "I've almost got it." His hands moved cautiously, mindful not to damage the fragile root network as he teased them from the soil. "Like this?"
Roseville leaned over, inspecting his work with a practiced eye. "Exactly," she murmured, her lips curving into a proud smile. "You're getting better at this every day. Soon, you'll be able to recognize these plants by sight alone."
Theos's grin widened, the rare praise brightening his whole face. Moments like these made him feel as if he truly belonged somewhere. For as long as he could remember, Roseville had been his guiding light, his home. She was more than just a teacher—she was his family. Even though she never spoke much about where she came from or how she'd come to find him, she had woven him into her life with the same careful precision she used when tending to their garden. Her silent dedication was a language he understood, even if she never said the words aloud.
"What would we do if we couldn't find these roots?" he asked, brushing dirt from his hands as he sat back on his heels. "I mean, what if the soldiers from the towns find us?
Roseville's gaze softened, and she looked away briefly, her fingers tracing the edges of the herb leaves. "If that day ever comes, we'll adapt," she said, her voice steady but carrying an undertone of something else—something he couldn't quite name. "But magic is in you, Theos. It's a part of you. You don't need to hide it; you just need to learn how to use it wisely."
Theos nodded, though he sensed there was more to it than what she was saying. Roseville's words often carried layers, and he'd learned to pick up on the unspoken parts, like threads she didn't want to pull at. But today, in the gentle sunlight, it felt like their small clearing was the entire world, safe and secret, and he didn't want to press her.
He stood up, dusting off his knees. "What about the Delusion stuff? You think I'll ever be able to use it like you do with your plants?"
Roseville reached out, resting a hand on his shoulder, her expression softening. "In time," she said with a comforting smile. "Your powers come from a different place, Theos. They're unique, but like any skill, they need patience and care. There's no rush. Besides, for today, I think it's enough that you've mastered finding roots," she added with a teasing glint in her eyes.
Theos chuckled, feeling a warm flush spread through him. He adored these quiet moments with her—simple yet filled with a sense of belonging he couldn't explain. They gathered their herbs in silence, Roseville showing him which ones were safe to handle and which required more caution. She spoke in gentle, guiding tones, teaching him not just how to gather plants, but how to respect the life within them, even as he harvested their roots and leaves.
As they filled their baskets, Roseville glanced up, her gaze lingering on a small tree nearby, its branches bent low with age. "Let's take a break, hmm?" she suggested, nodding towards the tree. "I have a surprise for you."
Theos's eyes sparkled with curiosity, and he followed her eagerly. As they settled beneath the tree, Roseville reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out a small cloth bundle, unwrapping it with a sense of ceremony. Inside was a thick, leather-bound book, its edges worn and faded, clearly aged.
"This belonged to my father," Roseville said quietly, running her fingers along the cover. "It's a journal. He kept notes on all kinds of things—plants, healing techniques, stories from the people he met. I thought it might be time to pass it on to you."
Theos's mouth dropped open as he stared at the book, his hands itching to touch it but hesitant, as if it might vanish. "For me?"
Roseville nodded, handing the journal to him. "It's yours now. I've added a few notes of my own over the years, but there's plenty of space left. You can use it to keep track of what you learn, or draw if you'd like. I think he'd be happy to know it's helping you."
With reverent care, Theos opened the journal, his fingers brushing over pages filled with elegant handwriting and hand-drawn illustrations. Each page seemed to hold a part of Roseville's history, as if the book itself had shared her journey. He marveled at sketches of plants he'd never seen, notes on their properties, and entries written in a language he didn't recognize.
"Thank you," he whispered, overwhelmed by the gift. "I'll keep it safe, I promise."
Roseville's eyes shimmered with a soft light, and she reached out to ruffle his hair, her expression one of gentle pride. "I know you will. I think you'll add many stories of your own to it."
They sat in comfortable silence, the afternoon sun warming their faces as Theos poured over the journal. He felt like he was peering into a hidden world, one that connected him to a past he barely knew but wanted desperately to understand. Roseville had always spoken of her family with a mixture of nostalgia and sadness, and he sensed that this book was more than just a collection of notes—it was a fragment of who she was before she became his guardian.
Time moved slowly in those days, but it was filled with the kind of joy that left a mark on his heart. They had their routines, their inside jokes, the familiar rhythm of their life together. He'd spend hours practicing magic under her patient guidance, learning to control his powers and understanding their limits. She taught him to see magic not just as a tool, but as a responsibility—something he'd one day use to help others.
As the weeks passed, Theos began to feel that he was growing stronger, more in tune with himself and the world around him. Yet, the thought of stepping beyond the boundaries of their secluded life still filled him with uncertainty. Roseville was his family, his world, and the only one who had ever made him feel truly safe.
One night, as they sat by the fire, Theos drifted off to sleep, his head resting against her shoulder. She wrapped an arm around him, her voice a soft murmur in his ear. "Remember, Theos, no matter where life takes you, I'll always be with you."
Those words lingered in his dreams, weaving into the fabric of his memories, a promise he'd carry with him through all the days to come. Little did he know this was the last year they'd have fun like this.