Grateful for their stop at Breno’s for a bath to get rid of all the sand stuck to their skin and clothes, they stood outside the door of the woman who could hopefully answer their questions. One single knock on the door summoned an old lady to the other side. Her auburn hair had turned nearly all white, and her skin was now traced with the marks of time. Yet the way Mrs. Ilden welcomed them into her home without hesitation was proof that, although her body had changed, her essence remained the same—the loving woman Eldric had known.
She stared at the strong man standing in her living room, no longer the boy she remembered. Memories surged through her mind. Memories of the curious little boy who had been obsessed with becoming a magical researcher, who would chase her through the streets of Golheim after school, begging for access to chemical elements he could use to test potions of his own creation, speaking aloud the endless list of possible combinations he had memorized.
The teacher’s face softened, and a sympathetic smile appeared as she took in the disguise he wore and the numerous weapons concealed across his figure, a clear sign that his dream hadn’t come true. It pained her to see that Eldric had becomeanother victim of the whims of time, and she wondered if that was everyone’s inevitable fate.
“What a pleasure to see you again, dear.” Her voice was gentle and slightly raspy.
Eldric approached her and introduced his friends before wrapping his arms gently around his favorite teacher. She barely reached his shoulders now; he had outgrown her by so much.
“Thank you for having us, Mrs. Ilden. I know this is sudden and a great inconvenience to you.”
“Anything for my little prodigy!”
Her compliment brought a sheepish smile to his lips as he rocked back on his heels. Alissa couldn’t help but admire his reaction, her lips curling in a mix of amusement and admiration.
“Please sit, children,” Mrs. Ilden said, guiding them to their seats.
The teacher’s home, though not the richest or most extravagant, was undoubtedly the most comforting she’d ever seen. Little plants were tucked into every corner of the room, and colorful paintings hanging on the walls matched the bright color of the curtains.
Bookcases filled with volumes Alissa assumed were from Mrs. Ilden’s years of lectures lined the walls behind them. A wooden coffee table sat in the center, cluttered with paintbrushes, jars of ink, and an unfinished landscape canvas, the smell of paint filling the living room.
“What a pleasure it is to see you again, Eldric!”
“Me too, Mrs. Ilden. It’s been a long time. How have you been?”
“Well, I’ve been trying to keep myself busy, as you can see.” She pointed at the mess of paintbrushes on the coffee table. “I can see you are doing well. How is your mother by the way?”
“She’s…” Eldric trailed off, feeling a sudden ache in his chest. He hadn’t received any word from his family since he’d left the capital. He could only hope they were safe and well.
Noticing his affliction, Mrs. Ilden interrupted, “Can I help you with something?”
“Yes. Mrs. Ilden, we came because we thought your expertise could help us understand a rather delicate subject.” His eyes shifted sideways to Alissa, signaling her to take the lead.
The old lady followed his gaze to where the young woman sat, her hands crossed in her lap, her feet dangling slightly from the large armchair she had settled into.
“Eldric mentioned that he recalled something from one of your classes about the ‘glow of magic.’ Could this be a visual glow rather than a metaphor, as he originally assumed?” Alissa asked.
Mrs. Ilden raised her eyebrows, caught by the unexpected question. “Why do you ask?”
There was something about this woman, perhaps the sweet cadence of her voice or the motherly affection she had for Eldric. Maybe it was the warmth of her home and how it reminded Alissa of her own humble cabin in Bryniard. Whatever it was, it gave her an unexpected sense of confidence to share what she had always feared to let the world know. She glanced at Freyah, whose expression mirrored her feelings of trust and vulnerability.
“If I share a secret with you, would you promise to keep it?”
Even if Mrs. Ilden had never intended to keep her secret—which wasn’t the case—the sorrow in Alissa’s voice would have compelled her to do so. “I promise.”
“I see glowing threads flowing around certain people,” she confessed. A breath of relief followed.
“What people?”
“Since I was a little girl, I have been able to see the victims of Senectus Subita being embraced by glowing black and white threads six months before their passing.”
“I’m sorry, dear. You lost me there. Senectus what?”
Forgetting for a moment that this was not a term people outside of her hometown should be familiar with, Alissa apologized. “Where I’m from, there is an illness that affects one of our people every six months, aging their victims to death in their last twenty-four hours of life. We call it Senectus Subita.”
Mrs. Ilden’s eyes narrowed as she repeated Alissa’s words in a whisper, trying to make sense of them. Suddenly, she stood up with a start, her hands moving to cover her face. Her expression contorted into one of horror, sending a chill through everyone else in the room.
“Are you from Bryniard?” the teacher asked, her voice trembling almost as much as her hands. She heard her guests gasp, though she was too shocked to even take in the view before her.