He who knows others is wise; he who knows himself is enlightened --- Tao Te Ching

  ---

  Caleb watched Juniper as she gleefully stuffed yet another forkful of waffles into her mouth and wondered, not for the last time, where she was putting it. The child was hardly more than a twig. One would imagine that the answer was the same as for most of his other questions: magic. For a catch-all answer, that sure seemed to be widely applicable. There were still some questions he could ask, however. He turned to see Esther’s expectant smile.

  “I know I asked this before, but I still don’t understand. So, I guess I’ll ask it again.” He poked absently at his food while he gathered his thoughts. “Why me? I’m no amazing example of a human being. I’m a mess! I hardly know how to keep my own life running, much less get mixed up in gods and tree sprites, or magic…” He trailed off again as his nerves caught up with his mouth. He looked up at Esther with imploring eyes.

  Instead of the expected judgmental gaze, his look met a soft smile and eyes that seemed to view him from a great distance—eyes that had watched eons drift by like clouds in a summer sky. For a while, she just looked at him. At first, he fidgeted nervously in his seat, but soon found himself calming as her steady regard became his place of refuge. She reached her calloused hands across the table to grasp his.

  “Son, the real question is, why not you?” She held his eyes for another beat before continuing. “The question of ‘why me’ is not a new one, you know.” Her smile took the sting from her words. “People have asked that since well before this world spun on her thread—and will go on asking long after she has faded.”

  Caleb sat, stunned for a moment, but she went on before he could speak.

  “If you’ll pardon an old woman, I’m going to ask you a very hard question.” Her eyes held his like a vice, but she smiled. “What gives your life meaning?”

  He sputtered and pulled back. She released his hands, and his gaze wandered—from her to Juniper, before finally settling on W, who moved around the grill like none of it mattered. Caleb’s face darkened before he dropped his eyes to the table. Even Juniper placed her fork on her empty plate, watching him with quiet curiosity.

  “You sure know how to make a guy feel put upon,” he muttered. “I mean... I work hard at my job. Try to be a decent brother. I tip my waitress…” He trailed off, then glanced up. Esther gave him a wry look. “I just try to be a good person,” he finished, knowing how weak it sounded. Silence lingered, taut and awkward, until Juniper’s cheerful voice broke through and made him jump.

  “The meaning of life is waffles!”

  It took Caleb a moment to realize the rumbling he heard was W’s laughter. Even Esther looked amused, and not at all displeased at the interruption. She produced another plate of golden waffles, and the little sprite dug in like she hadn’t just eaten enough to feed a small village.

  Esther turned back to Caleb, her eyes soft with compassion. “Those things you listed, Caleb—those are things you do. Good things, you might even say wonderful things. But does doing those things give your life meaning?” She smiled at Juniper. “This little one has the right of it. While being a good brother is something you should do, it’s the love you have, as a brother, that holds the meaning—not just being a good brother.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Her smile brightened, and she winked, “It isn’t just eating the waffles, it’s the joy in eating the waffles.”

  Caleb sat back in the booth, watching Juniper’s face as she pushed her plate away and reclined. Her whole body radiated such bliss that he couldn’t help but smile. He reached across the table and placed Juniper’s pot beside her in the booth. With a cavernous yawn, the little sprite crawled into it, curled her body beneath herself, and let her eyes float shut—and just like that, she was asleep.

  Esther smiled at the little sprite. With a content sigh, she stood from her chair and motioned for Caleb to follow. Caleb looked at Juniper with concern, but at Esther’s nod, he followed her to the bar where she poured him another cup of coffee.

  “We can talk here while she sleeps.” Behind her, W rolled his shoulders and moved soundlessly away from the grill. Esther went on, “She’ll be out for a while, I’d wager. One so young, after the night she’s had—and full of waffles? That’s a recipe for a good, long nap.”

  “She amazed me today.” Caleb’s forehead creased as he looked back at Juniper—who had begun to snore delicately. “She’s so tiny, but the way she stood next to me and trapped the Mischling…” He shook his head. “I could hardly move, but she didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.”

  With a start, Caleb blurted, “Wait! Juniper’s a sprite, right?” At Esther’s nod, he plunged on. “How is she snoring? Or eating? Does she have a metabolism?”

  Esther stifled a laugh. “Yes, she’s a sprite. But you’re trying to fit your very human idea of a life-form onto something made of magic.”

  She shook her head, amused at his confusion. “What you’re seeing is what she chooses to show the world. There’s more beneath it—like roots under soil.” She gave a small shrug. “Nothing is what it seems. Or rather... nothing is only what it seems.”

  “Gaia never wastes effort.” Esther poured a cup for herself. “Look at nature. To your eyes, it may all look like chaos. But everything is striving for balance—and nothing is ever wasted.”

  “When Juniper offered to join you, Gaia knew it would help you on your journey. But she also knew that you would help Juniper in turn.” Ageless eyes never left Caleb’s as she went on, “Unlike the usual sense of ‘tit for tat’ or base exchange—this is a uniquely symbiotic relationship. Or, it could be.”

  Caleb shifted with unease. “What do you mean?” he interrupted, but trailed off when Esther held up a hand.

  “It’s always a choice. Always.”

  Esther’s eyes held a direct intensity that Caleb hadn’t experienced until now.

  “Always a choice. You can choose to walk away from all of this. Hike back through the woods, find your car, drive home, go to work…”

  “Or, you can see what is before you as an opportunity for growth.” She stole a quick glance to see if he had caught her pun.

  “Nothing is going to be easy—even going back to your old life would be a struggle, just of a different kind.”

  Caleb swirled his coffee, watching the lights reflect for a moment while he thought. When he looked back up, Esther was smiling at him.

  “You asked me, ‘why me?’ And that’s a valid question—if this was all happening to you.” With a meaningful look, she forestalled his next words. “This isn’t all happening to you. It’s happening for you.”

  “The question is simple. In fact, it’s the same question that everybody, everywhere, asks themselves.” Her kind smile contrasted with the sharpness in her eyes. “What will you do now? Will you go back to drifting—unmoored through life? Or will you reach out, take hold of your direction... and, in doing so, find the meaning you seek?”

  Caleb sat, mind again awhirl. Esther’s calm gaze drifted to Juniper, who was now softly snoring, mouth slightly open and drooling.

  “It may be time to take the little one somewhere she can rest,” she said, glancing toward the front window. “I expect we’ll be quite busy soon. It’s been many years since we could cross the boundaries, and it seems we’ve been missed.”

  Caleb followed her gaze to the glass, now lightly fogged by the warmth inside. Beyond it, the dark forest waited—only feet from the diner’s door. He didn’t have time to wonder at her words before a neatly wrapped package appeared on the table in front of him, steaming faintly and smelling suspiciously of waffles and bacon.

  “This should keep you and the little one going for a while,” Esther said, waving off his protest with a flutter of her hand. “We can’t have Juniper getting hungry, out there in the world.”

  She smiled, warm and knowing. “Please come back and see us soon.”

  Caleb thanked them both profusely. Esther smiled warmly, and W raised one long-fingered hand in farewell—still not turning from the grill. He was surprised to find that the pot, even with Juniper curled up inside and the packet of waffles tucked in beside her, fit comfortably on his back.

  At the door, stretched out like a self-appointed guardian, lay the massive pile of cat-shaped fluff. It didn’t deign to acknowledge them. Caleb stepped carefully over, mindful of sensitive paws. But just as he was nearly through the door, one clawed paw flicked upward and snagged his shoelace—untying it with practiced mischief.