"It is strange of you to be so slow, Kito." Kito smiled as he lounged in his tent, his face lit by the small flickering light of a candle.

  "I am sure you have guessed that it was not by accident. I wanted to test that boy. He is a strange case, that one: senses like a mage, the strength of a warrior. And he cannot cast a single spell. To think, he is Isalia's child." Kito shook his head proudly.

  "By the Great Mother...that girl surprises me, even now."

  Pritiri furrowed her brow, thinking back to the battle she had witnessed: between a wild man-eating drake, and an unsuspecting young warrior who had never been out of sight of the village. It had only taken a few moments for him to be on the verge of meeting his end. She sighed.

  "It would not have been surprising if he had died, Kito. You have forty mages and forty-five warriors. Risking one simply because you were curious is foolish."

  Kito chuckled quietly.

  "Maybe you are right, Lady Pritii... Still, I hope you will forgive this old man's foolishness. At my age, one often finds themselves called to do things...out of the ordinary."

  Pritiri raised her brow.

  "I do not sense your mind failing, Kito."

  The old mage smiled sadly.

  "Do not worry, I am sharp as ever. But, as I am sure you are aware, I will soon be leaving this life."

  He looked up at the ceiling of the tent, as if trying to see the stars beyond. "It is as the priests say...'When one glimpses their end, that is when The Great Mother is closest, her smile at the edge of your vision, her whispers off in the distance. She comforts you, and reminds you, to prepare for what comes next.'"

  "What are you getting at?"

  "…I worry about the village, the Grass Seas. What will happen when I and Kenri are gone...who will stand with you?"

  Pritiri felt her face soften as she stared at the mage. It was always the same with them, and she was always surprised. She would pick a mage from among the students, and they would be young, strong, someone she could trust to carry her power, to heed her advice. And then, she would blink, and they would be...this.

  Pritiri looked at Kito, sitting straight, breathing easily. Her eyes slid to his sleeping body behind him, his chest fragile and almost skeletal, every labored breath looking like it might be the last. It was in these rare dreams, when they talked, that Pritiri would always forget how frail they were, near the end.

  "You do not need to worry, Kito. I have always been the one to pick. You should enjoy your final years."

  "I know, Lady Pritii. But I thought...perhaps I could help."

  Pritiri could only sigh.

  "Kito...I have always valued your judgment, but...that boy...is no mage. We both saw today, when he tried to cast a barrier. If ever there was a moment when he would cast a spell, it would have been then. To be a warrior is no shame."

  Kito simply met her eyes, smiling gently.

  "You may say that. And yet, he can see you."

  Pritiri frowned. Even though they had both noticed, they had not spoken much of it. Such an occurrence to her was like an alcis born with two heads: strange, wondrous, but ultimately useless. A curious footnote in her memories. And in a life spanning hundreds of years, there were many such footnotes. She had not considered that Kito would find it so significant.

  "I struggle to see your point."

  Kito looked away, his face showing something Pritiri would never expect from someone as old and distinguished as him. Embarrassment.

  "Maybe I truly am just a foolish old man now, Lady Pritii... But, when I say I feel The Great Mother...I do not mean it as merely metaphor..." He leaned forward now, his eyes wide, his mouth stretched into an excited smile. It was as if he was a child again.

  "When I look at that boy, Lady Pritii, I sense something...something working...beneath the grasses...beneath the skin. It is as if I am young again, hearing The Song for the first time. I may be going mad...but in helping him, I feel that which the priests speak of: The Warmth."

  Pritiri averted Kito's gaze. She could not bring herself to face him: she felt that if she spent a moment longer looking at Kito's visage—full of hope, faith—that she would not be able to hide her skepticism. Pritiri had been alive—or rather, conscious—for more than a millennium now. When she was still young, she had believed, as most did: in the Great Mother, creator of all, lover of all.

  But she had been young, she had been alive. Now, she was only a ghost, and there were no more elves, no more dwarves, only a small, shrinking territory of humans on the brink of collapse. She had stopped praying centuries ago: she found no use in speaking to a god that would not speak back.

  "I know you may not believe me, Lady Pritii, but I beg you: even if you do not choose him, go to him, see him for yourself. I have watched that boy for fourteen years now, and I have taught for fifty. He will be like his mother—a great mage. All he requires is your blessing, and for the Great Mother to let him accept it."

  Pritiri did not know how to respond. In the end, she tried to break the mood, laughing.

  "One of those may be impossible to acquire."

  Kito did not laugh, simply meeting her gaze with the same, genuine expression of faith.

  "I am not so sure, my dear Lady."

  Pritiri sighed. Out of curiosity, she searched for the boy's Song, expecting to find him asleep in his tent. Instead, she was surprised to sense him a distance away from camp, awake. She raised a brow at Kito.

  "Did you know he would be awake at this hour?"

  Kito smiled slyly.

  "I would hope by now, that you would know how observant I am."

  Pritiri chuckled, then rose to leave.

  Pritiri walked the distance from Kito's tent to the outskirts of camp where the warrior was, taking in the night as she did so. The grass stirred faintly with her passing footsteps, and the wind pulled at her dress and skin. Pritiri thought to herself, that if only she had been alive, then maybe she would have been able to enjoy it. As she was now, all she felt of the world was little more than numb traces of sensation. She wondered what the boy—Ato—would be like: a warrior, barely a man, likely around nineteen years in age.

  She remembered the battle she'd witnessed between the drake and him, how he had flung his spear into its belly, pounced on it in air. Then he had almost been flattened, had forgotten its breath, had almost become ash. Pritiri thought of a moment that she had never told Kito of, even as they had debated in the tent: of her watching students become full warriors, and how one curious student had almost drowned, screaming. She shook her head.

  Sad as it seemed, the moments revealed a warrior too young, who possessed more luck than skill. And Pritiri required more than luck.

  She was past the last tent now, and faintly, she heard music ahead. A kipi being strummed, a male voice singing.

  "Joy and Sorrow...two lovers, embracing...oh lei, oh la, oh lei, ah lo..."

  Suddenly, the music stopped. Pritiri paused, peering through the dark to sense Ato's mana. In her mind, she saw Ato, bent down on one knee, his head bowed towards her.

  "Greetings, Lady Pritii. Elf of the Grass. Great Teacher...Keeper of my ancestors' history, and the Holy Age...I-I am honored by your presence..!"

  If Ato could have heard Pritiri, he would have heard her laughing. It had been a great while since she had received such a greeting—not since she had first appeared to Kito many decades ago. She was so amused, she almost didn't notice how he had sensed her from so far away, when no one should have been able to even see her.

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  Pritiri continued to walk towards him, taking notice of his demeanor as she did: the way he continued to kneel, eyes closed, even as his body began to tremble as she neared, likely sensing her mana.

  He seems patient, at least...

  She reached him, and he tensed, as if expecting something, before she strode past, sitting near the spot where he had sat before. In front of her stretched the same wide flat field from earlier, where Ato had fought the drake. The same herd of Alcis lay in the field now, sleeping.

  She sat silently—that was all she could do, after all—while awaiting Ato's response. Moments of silence stretched into minutes, and Pritiri found her thoughts beginning to wander, before Ato finally spoke.

  "Um...Honored Lady Pritii...I hope I am not bothering you or being presumptive...maybe you have not actually come to see me...b-but...may I ask if there is something you wish from me..?"

  Pritiri did not turn or react. She simply waited, watching Ato's mana. After a moment, she sensed him turn his head towards her. At this, she patted the spot next to her with her hand, asking him to sit. Ato sat, and once again, she was waiting, observing his every action, trying to see what Kito had saw.

  He was silent, still—save for the slight tremble in his body—as he looked ahead along with her, at the field before them. After a moment, Ato turned to her.

  "A-are you here to look at the stars...o-or the alcis, maybe?"

  Pritiri turned to him, her simple, unreadable smile the only sign that she had heard him. At this, Ato's face flushed, the tips of his ears turning scarlet. Pritiri wondered idly if he was anxious now that he had finally been acknowledged, or if he simply found her beautiful, as she had often been told when she was still alive.

  "W-w-well...I am glad to have company, whatever the reason... I u-usually find myself alone, most nights...when I play..."

  Pritiri noticed Ato's hands, trembling as they held his instrument.

  "I like to sit outside and play some nights...maybe that is silly..."

  Ato sighed and looked away, and a great silence filled the air. Pritiri found herself wondering if it would soon be time for her to leave.

  "Th-the stars are very pretty on clear, cloudless nights like these, are they not? These are my favorite nights. They remind me of when I first heard The Song…" Suddenly Ato was looking up, at the moon and stars. Pritiri inspected his face, the strangely dark circles under his eyes, the look of weariness that she would not usually expect from someone so young. She could not tell exactly, but he seemed almost wistful.

  He spoke softly, as if carried by something from within.

  "I had never felt as at peace as in that moment... It seemed like, for the first time, someone was looking at me... Truly looking at me... Standing there with me... and asking me to... simply be... E-even if I have never cast a spell... I still count myself lucky... simply to have heard it."

  Pritiri thought of her first time: the land had been different in those days. There had been more forests. Few dragons.

  Ato was silent, still looking away, before he turned quickly to Pritiri, his ears somehow even more red than before.

  "A-apologies! You likely did not come here to hear me speak about myself so much..."

  Pritiri stared at Ato.

  ‘Even if I have never cast a spell...’

  When facing the drake, he had tried to cast the spell for barriers. Despite his failure, his technique had been almost perfect.

  How often had he tried such a thing?

  Pritiri raised a finger, pointing towards Ato's staff next to him. Ato looked at it.

  "My...spear?"

  Pritiri chanted a spell in her head, and a small globe of light emitted from her finger, floating into the air and dispersing. Ato looked at her, and she stared back with an inquisitive expression, waiting to see if he would understand.

  "You... want me to... no... but I already..." His eyes widened.

  "Y-you'd like me to... use your blessing?" She nodded.

  Ato looked down again, his face betraying his shyness, anxiety, and desire. Pritiri couldn't help but smile.

  "W-well... If you desire it so... L-lady Pritii... I would be honored..."

  Both rose, and Pritiri reached a hand over to place on his shoulder. She looked at him, trembling slightly as her hand moved closer. She felt herself become tense as well, dreading that small moment that was soon to come. Her palm made contact with Ato's shoulder, and it moved slightly, then tensed heavily, shrinking from her touch. She heard him inhale quietly in pain, his skin burning under her. Pritiri grimaced. Then, in a moment, he was back to normal, his shoulder still.

  Pritiri found herself surprised with him: even those who knew what to expect, often took a few attempts before they were used to it.

  He must want this very much.

  Ato readied himself, his staff pointing towards the grasses in the field below them. He looked back towards Pritiri, a mixture of anxiety and excitement in his eyes.

  "A-alright...I am going to cast a spell now..."

  Pritiri nodded. She closed her eyes, her mind reaching for his Song, trying to find it as he channeled it into his spear. In a moment, she felt it: a strange amount of mana, more than a warrior or common animal, but just barely. If she had not known better, she would have assumed it meaningless. She wondered what spell he would try to cast.

  Probably something extravagant and violent... Maybe a column of fire...

  Spells of war and utility were all most of the Mages of Grass practiced, and it was likely all he had seen. Such a thing was to be expected, in lands such as these. She sensed the mana enter his spear, on the edge of petering out into nothing as it moved up the weapon's length, before she channeled mana into him, grabbing it from the air around them and adding it to his.

  Ato's body became still, his shoulder relaxing under Pritiri's grasp as he took a deep breath. Pritiri raised a brow. This was not the demeanor of a mage meaning to cast a spell of attack. He held his breath a moment, before exhaling slowly. Quietly, barely above a whisper, in an almost polite voice, Ato chanted.

  "…Come, spring."

  The grass glowed with red light, beginning at the point where Ato had pointed, before it radiated outwards to cover almost the entire field below them. It glowed a moment more, but did not grow, instead ejecting its light into small red motes that floated up into the air. The sleeping Alcis woke, looking at the lights around them before calling softly into night. Pritiri felt Ato's shoulder tense once again, his chest shaking softly with clipped breaths. She looked down at his face which was staring ahead at the grass, and noticed the tears running down his cheeks. Pritiri frowned. She had not expected him to try casting a spell that fostered life. If she had known his intention, she would have tried to tell him such a thing would be pointless.

  Well, at least I know he can cast a spell.

  Pritiri pondered what to do—she could not speak, even if she wanted to.

  Maybe I should visit his dream later...

  Suddenly, Ato turned to face her, and she braced herself for the task of dealing with a failed mage, before noticing his smile. Ato kneeled once more, his head bowed as he sobbed softly. Pritiri was still, unsure of what to take from such a reaction, before Ato spoke.

  "Honored Lady Pritii... For years—I have spent years, trying to cast a spell... I-I can't tell you how many sleepless nights I lost in the fields, without avail. A-and now I have and-"

  He turned towards the field before them, the soft red lights looking like strange fireflies, as the alcis continued to call into the night, their large delicate antlers raised into the air like a forest of elaborate trees.

  "It is so...beautiful."

  Ato turned back towards her, now looking into her eyes.

  "Thank you, Lady Pritii, I...I am indebted to you, not just as a ward, but now as someone whose dream you made true... Please, if there is ever anything I can do to even begin to repay you...I will do it without a word."

  For a moment, Pritiri was still, unsure of how to respond. She looked at the Ato, at his genuine expression of thanks. She almost wanted to walk away. And yet, she found herself staying.

  Her eyes wandered over to the kipi on the ground next to him. She pointed at it. Ato followed her finger, and smiled sweetly when he saw the instrument.

  "O-oh, yes! Of course, Lady Pritii!" He picked up the kipi, then began strumming something familiar.

  "I hope that my singing is sufficient..." Pritiri did not answer. She sat, looking on at the magic-induced scene before them. The alcis were settling down now and beginning to sleep, but orbs continued to birth and float into the air, filling a moonlit, windy night with thousands of warm, red spots of light.

  Pritiri thought of the story her father had oft told her as a child before bed, of The Great Mother's first act of creation.

  ‘And The Great Mother took a lock of her hair, lighting it aflame before spreading it on the dark, formless ground. She sang a song then, and the hair burst into color, the dark strands jumping up and becoming the first grass, the embers floating into the dark sky and becoming stars.’

  Pritiri closed her eyes a moment, and listened to the Ato's song.

  "And Sorrow and Joy met under the moon... An embrace, a kiss... And Joy said, 'do not worry love, I will be back soon...'"

  Pritiri did not realize then, but as she sat there, eyes closed, a smile took her lips.

  He is definitely peculiar... she thought. But, he is a good singer.

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