Chapter 20: The Promise of Pumpkin Pie

Baking with Vey

“Teacher—I left it out for two days—for you~”
“Perfect, come help.”
Pumpkins, left longer, turn softer, their flavor richer.
Changing clothes, Weng prepared to start.
Downstairs, she washed the giant pumpkin.
Peeling and scooping, she cut it into chunks.
Water in the pot neared boiling.
Vey arranged the pieces, placing them in.
Steam for ten or twenty minutes, then proceed.
Sitting on stools by the door, they passed time.
Afternoon sun was mild, breezes carrying whispered tales.
Summer’s heat had faded.
Usually, Weng slowed down this season.
Relaxed, she noticed Vey’s unusual enthusiasm.
“Vey.”
“Eek! …What’s wrong, Teacher?”
Startled, the girl watching the pot yelped.
“Why so nervous?”
“N-no reason…”
Her guilt was plain.
Adults aren’t fools; her lazy student was up to something.

Uncovering Mischief

Exercising teacher’s rights, Weng pressed Vey relentlessly.
Under loving scrutiny, Vey confessed.
Moments later, she produced a parcel—four or five broken rose stems.
‘No wonder she smelled of herbs,’ Weng thought.
“Teacher, I just wanted to catch up…”
Excuses from school days were always weak.
Sighing, Weng didn’t scold much.
“It’s fine, I’m not short a few stems.”
Mentally retracting her words—no student was easy.
“But as punishment, deliver pumpkin pie to Mr. Vik.”
Luckily, she’d planted rows of advancement materials.
A few stems didn’t matter.
‘She picked the important ones, though…’
Checking their potency, Weng stored them.
Mashing, kneading, and seasoning went quickly together.

Preparing Deliveries

From the second floor, the lake wasn’t visible.
Vik was likely still fishing.
Weng sent Vey to deliver pies to the church—two portions, including Rila’s.
A dozen pieces each; not a meal replacement.
No lunch after baking.
Energy drained, she deserved rest.
Changing, Weng flopped onto her bed for a nap.
Yet, the doorbell rang again.
Interrupted repeatedly, who was this stranger?
Familiar faces weren’t so polite.
Throwing on a coat, barefoot, she stepped out.
Vik stood there, rod and bucket brimming with fish.
“Just finished fishing, Mr. Vik?”
“Yeah, cleaned up and thought you might want some.”
He gestured to the bucket.

Sharing Pie and Tea

Inviting him to sit, Weng fetched a plate of pumpkin pie.
Brewing tea, she joined him.
Vik leapt lightly onto the platform.
His glance lingered, catching her bare toes peeking from her robe.
Pink and soft, they clashed with the deep robe and autumn reds.
Noticing, she said nothing, curling her toes and pouring tea.
Running inside, she returned, the sight gone.
“I had Vey deliver yours; didn’t expect you back.”
The pie, kept warm by magic, lost flavor if reheated.
Vik tasted it.
“Pretty good.”
With pie eaten, no other business remained.
“When are you leaving?”
One day more or less didn’t matter; Weng spoke frankly.
Sipping tea, Vik gazed at the fiery maples, silent.

A Quiet Agreement

Moments later, he shifted topics.
“Big fish taste good?”
“Depends.”
For huge fish, she’d pass.
Mentally, she measured from foot to head—too much.
Meat quality, magical essence—many factors.
“I’ll leave in a couple days.”
“Good.”
Adults left some things unsaid.
“Um…” As he rose, Weng stopped him.
“Thank you.”
For stepping in then.
Words felt hollow, but she meant it.
Perhaps another chance would come.
Vik’s gaze held a subtle scrutiny.
“By Elindor’s oath, I’ll remember what I owe you.
I’m off to find someone.
Next time, make more.”
No promises, no questions about his quest.
Yet, expectations and waiting often exceeded anticipation.
Watching him leave, Weng felt no reason to call him back.
He’d go; she’d grow stronger to stay, not flee.

Restless Meditation

No nap now.
Too many interruptions.
Sitting cross-legged, she meditated, refining magic with mental focus.
Vast magic grew purer with each “strike.”
Nearing the fourth tier, she felt close yet far.
The path ahead was a misty abyss.
Progress seemed endless.

Churchyard Moments

In the church’s backyard, orange trees bore unripe fruit.
Rila shared Vey’s pumpkin pie with children.
Suddenly, her body burned like fireworks.
The child she touched didn’t react.
“Teacher, you okay?”
“It’s nothing… Go play.”
Gently stroking the boy’s hair, Rila looked beyond the village.
Sharp mountain ridges split sky from earth.
Birds, like black dots, drifted far but never crossed that line.
Since sending the letter to the Church, she knew avoidance was futile.
War, calamity, plague—not coincidences, perhaps planned.
Rila gazed at clouds hiding the world, Maple Whisper Village so small.

Camp’s Unease

Kailos waited at the camp.
His team patrolled the abandoned mine, preventing mishaps.
As Aiden’s guards, they knew the Otherworld’s dangers.
Rumors told of a city swallowed by gray fog, vanished.
As if it never existed.
Their orders: follow the lady’s will.
No retreat, despite difficulties.
Her stand before them that day affirmed their lord’s character.
The sky loomed heavy, rain imminent.
By plan, their lord should arrive soon.
Perhaps delayed, or something unexpected in the capital.
Should they leave?
A dilemma without answers.
Kailos inhaled deeply; damp air felt stifling, unsettling.