< Ah! there you are Papusha, did you bring the eggs I asked for?> A young woman asked, looking at the small creature. The cat-goose amalgamation held in its beak a basket filled with small white and brown eggs. The creature honked, their beady black eyes staring back at her.

  < Good girl~ Here, let me take this off of you. You saved my skin. Do you know where the others went?> She bent down to the feathered menace, holding onto her clean apron, quickly taking the handle out of her beak before she dropped it. Papusha honked again, shaking her beak.

  After kissing the small bird-like head of the familiar as thanks, she stood back up, looking around the cozy kitchen of her and her teacher’s house. Every span of the table and workable areas was occupied either by ingredients or utensils ready to be used.

  < Mise en place is done, alright. Let's start.> With a snap of her fingers, a thin stream of red mist started to flow out of her body, the surrounding ingredients and bowls, lifting them off the countertop.

  < Where were these recipes? There: Kurtos Kolac and Cozonac, both start in pretty much the same way, fine wheat flour in a bowl and then add some yeast. Yeah no, unless she made another batch, of which I doubt that lazy bum did. I will have to make some myself, shouldn't be too hard.> The woman put a stray curly brown lock of hair behind her ear as she wills a clean metal bowl to come to her, a wooden spoon and jar of flour following after it.

  Moving her finger through the air, the spoon, held by the ever-present red smoke dug into the jar and put a generous spoonful into the bowl. She started to hum as she added water to it, before grabbing the bowl from the air and hovering her other hand atop the flour. The soft silent song stilled for a moment, the mist all around shimmered for a mere moment before another stream came out of her hand. A thin black one this time.

  < Ooof, still need to get used to that. Motan, can you add bi-color painting to the list please? With a focus on anger and fear, please.> A small and tired chirp was all she got in response, the sleepy Cat-owl, her teacher's assistant, and house minder was snoozing on his perch.

  < Heaven's, I swear. The moment Minadora leaves the house, you fall asleep like it's no one business. Right. The yeast should be done by now.> She takes her hand off, cutting off the source of the black mist. Inside the bowl, the bacteria had fully developed, eating away at the flour and bubbling happily.

  Smiling, she grabbed a clean spoon from around her and divided the freshly made yeast into the two other recipients. With another snap of her fingers, she beckoned two whisks and willed the red mist to mix the flour and yeast mixtures. Then, she extended her hands above the would-be batter and formed two small circles of faint purple, making clean water flow out of them.

  < Frustration and acceptance are somehow easier to use at the same time.> She clicks her tongue, annoyed at her ease when using the two different schools at once.

  < No matter how much Madam Mirza likes to nag about doing things the mundane way, magic is convenient.> She looks down at the two dishes, making sure the yeast is fully incorporated before adding the rest: Salt, eggs, citrus zest, water, and vegetable oil.

  While her dough was being made through sorcery, she turned to the oven and grill. The fresh bed of kindling waiting for her. Knowing herself, she brought the metal vessels back on the table, before pointing a finger at the grill first.

  Picturing a simple spark in her mind, she dived into her memories, searching for one that had captured the right amount of surprise. Too much and the wall behind would explode with a lightning bolt, too little and nothing would happen, it had to be just right.

  'Found one: Papusha crashing down through the ceiling as if nothing happened.' She mentally held onto it, the grey-ish marble shining with a soft white glow, the emotion inside just enough for the task at hand. Connecting to it, she let the memory and the surprise fill her mind, nostalgia following soon after as Papusha still looked like a fuzzy kit at the time.

  The short-lived emotion shot through her spirit and mind, and out of her body, taking what little ink she allowed as a spark shot from her index. Yet before it entirely left her, she grabbed back onto the feeling, pushing back the excess into the marble, more than enough for it to grow back.

  Opening her eyes, she caught the spark and the wispy white trail behind it landing on the dry wood, igniting it. She smiled before she felt The Everflow's rebound, the price to pay climbing back through the connection she made, ramping up her emotional state. Before she could think, she had already Snuffed the volatile effect out with practiced ease. The small rebound was powerless against her mastery of herself. This severed the connection with the ambient ink. Letting the white pigment born of her emotion diffuse and dilute back to its original state, back into the neutral grey of the Everflow surrounding her.

  Looking back at the kitchen table, the whisks were still going, a marked improvement from before, one that made her happy.

  Allowing herself to enjoy the moment, she turned to the side, the old clock on the wall ticking closer to the afternoon than she liked.

  Shaking her head, she went back at it, repeating the same motions and process, lighting up the oven.

  < [Once all the ingredients are fully incorporated, knead the dough by hand or with a large wooden spoon until it is no longer sticky and springs back when poked. Then put the dough into a greased bowl and let rest with a humid and warm towel for half 45 minutes or until doubled in size] … I don't have time for that either, biomancy will do in a pinch, I am sure.> Willing the Whisks out, she replaced them with the spoons as instructed, holding onto her frustration with a tight grip. Feeding her emotion into the minor telekinesis spell she kept going on, this too was something she was proud of.

  Going about her business, she prepared the baking tray and the special rolling pin for the chimney-style Kurtos Kolac. On the side, she made a nutcracker clean off a large plate of hazelnuts of their husks, before sending them into a spice mortar and making them into a coarse powder. Turning around to check the results, she nodded her head as she took a teaspoon of it, tasting the fresh topping.

  < A bit of raw brown sugar would go well with it.> She says, flicking her wrist to the cupboard back to the nutty topping, a small jar flying out at her command as spoons started breaking apart and scooping the dry sugar. Once done, she sent back the new mixture into the mortar to refine it further.

  < There we go, how does the dough fare?> Turning around again, she pokes the two batches with her clean hand.

  < Springy and smooth without sticking, perfect! Onto the proofing then, wait. Cozonac, Cozonac. There we go, this one should be left for two hours instead of 45 minutes. Shouldn't be too much of an issue.> She grins wryly, the simple mistake would probably not have ruined the dough, but it wouldn't do for its initial purpose anymore.

  As she was about to start, something heavy jumped on her head, as small claws dug into her scalp making her yelp.

  < Don't let your joy trap you with its illusion, Iulia. You know well what happens if you are not careful.> Motan, who up until now was busy sleeping, warned her, balancing onto her head with his tail and wings.

  < Alright alright, stop that I get it. Can you help me or not? I need them ready in less than an hour... And if you do I can spare you an entire cozonac loaf and kurtos just for you, what do you say?>

  < You wish to bribe me?>

  < I am pretty sure I've successfully bribed you already, Motan, you're drooling.> She grabs the furred black body of the old familiar, praying her hair is still dry from the gluttonous creature's drool.

  < It is a deal then.>

  The clock struck noon and her teacher was still absent, this was highly unusual as she wouldn't miss the occasion to eat her baked sweets fresh out of the oven.

  But as seconds turned to minutes, and minutes into hours, she became worried. Her teacher, Madame Mirza Minadora was someone whose words mattered, both to the person herself and to others. So much so that, if she was not careful, she could carelessly bind herself and her interlocutor in a pact. Which, weirdly enough, she had inadvertently done so this very morning.

  < I will be there to taste and share these pastries with you my dear Iulia, I promise. This shouldn't take too long.> Were the last words she said before turning into a bolt of lightning and disappearing.

  'Did something happen at the council? They are usually sticklers for the rules and respecting other's time. What coul—'

  A hand grabbed her shoulder, making her curse and yelp as she turned around, a shimmering purple dagger manifesting in her hand.

  < It's me, stop the drawing.> Her mistress spoke. The older woman in her late thirties, who inspired her when she remade her own body, stood there. The hood half covered her face, hiding her pale skin as her radiant silver eyes shone from underneath it. Her form still coalesced from the shadows of her body made from the fireplace. If she was suspicious before, now she was worried.

  < What happened? What made you shade crawl when you despise how it feels?> Her face was strained, looking at the woman with gut-wrenching worry as she stared into her eyes.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  < I had no choice, and as much as I hate it, it is second to light in terms of speed for a reason, I couldn't afford to make this location known. Go gather your things, everything you hold dear and is unique to you. And do not, under any circumstances, leave any attuned or bound items here, do you hear me?> Her voice started off soft and kind, motherly even but became hard and tensed. Yet the motherly tone remained, even as she cupped her visage in her palms, gazing into each other's eyes for a silent while. Her teacher's worried face burned itself into her mind: the stress, sudden proof of affection, and suddenness of it all made her freeze.

  < Y-yes, at once!> She knew she was serious, whatever happened to make her teacher like was something she couldn't even imagine. She could feel dread and fear rising before the woman's face mellowed, her soft smile appeasing her.

  < You're a good girl, Iulia.> She rubbed her cheeks with genuine affection, before letting go of her, her hands recoiling to her chest as if burned. To hide their tremors.

  < Go.>

  Iulia saw it, saw everything, but didn't understand why she was acting this way. Yet she didn't want to make things worse, so she obeyed, running to her room.

  < Is this all you are taking?> Minadora asked standing tall in their courtyard, her tone even more strained as Iulia could hear the tears in the woman's voice as she exited their tree home. She had taken a total of three bags with her, all enchanted to hold more than usual.

  < What's going on Minadora?> Her question was left unanswered as the woman stretched her palm outward, vast torrents of anger and fury-colored energy shot out. Turning her palm sideways, the saturated red ink wrapped itself around the whole tree, encapsulating the centuries-old oak in a bubble. Then she closed her palm, and as deaf low rumbling noise broke the silence in the clearing, the earth tore and fell into the large pit created by the sorceress. Iulia gawked, their entire home, more than 30 meters tall and much wider vanished before her.

  No, not exactly. Instead, a small glass orb floated in their air, idle, before shooting in front of her.

  < Take it, things have escalated faster than I thought.> The words coming from her teacher didn't bring her any comfort as she did so, catching a glimpse of their home stuck in the crystal sphere.

  < Why? What happened? What's going on?> But yet again, no answers came, as a glowing smooth purple stone was shoved in her hands.

  < Not now, please. Break the spell on it and start to run as fast as you can, reinforce yourself only with inside spells, remember what they do?>

  < Didn't you say now's not the time?> She held the woman's gaze, but after seeing the coy smile, relented.

  < Fine. Inside spells do not leave the body, thus costing more ink, but won't show in the Everflow. I knew what you meant without having to quiz me...>

  < Yes, I am sure, but I wouldn't have had the occasion to tell you how proud I am.> Before Iulia could process, Minadora squeezed her hand holding the stone, breaking the spell together with her own. Making the world around them tumble and roil, the scenery changing rapidly as they traveled faster than Iulia ever did.

  Yet nausea never hit her as her teacher had taught her it would when using such means of transportation as the skipping stones. She knew the woman was doing something to her as they hit the ground, the world around them fixing in place once more, another forest, somewhere much colder.

  Before she could ask again, she was dragged off her feet, the woman pulled her like she was a kite, the air whipping past them fast. She struggled to cool herself and focus, her anger and frustration helping to fuel her spell as she enhanced herself. Feet landed hard on the ground as she pushed herself down with telekinesis, before catching up.

  Once side by side she asked again, the woman that had taken her under her wings looked grim, her eyes dark as she looked forward.

  < Ronii, do you remember him?>

  < Uncle Ronii? Yes, of course, he taught me how to spot and break illusions, what happened? no, what did he do? did he...>

  < Smart girl. That man, that fool. He succeeded, but the issue is how he did it. What I know, he killed Amarat, took his aspect of Endless Life after discarding the rest, and brought his wife back to life.>

  < But, shouldn't it have been a peaceful and lengthy ritual to resurrect his her? That’s what you told me.>

  < It usually is, but he was getting more and more desperate. Being a genius painter of Joy and Anger, displaying feats of enchantment and illusion better than anyone didn't help. That made him overconfident, and also never made him learn how to fail and get back up. That made him woefully unprepared to fix himself after failing to snuff out a rebound.>

  < So that's why he didn't visit us anymore.>

  < Yes, his body became warped by too much terror and zeal.> She swallowed hard, tears welling in her eyes before she schooled herself.

  < We, no. I thought he would cure himself, that he could do it. But he didn't and never did so. Something that caught everyone by surprise, as we all underestimated how much he had changed. And now we run, because the hypocrites now have their casus belli to openly wage war on us.>

  < The hypocrites? Who are you talking about? The gods?> Iulia quickly caught on as she had often heard the woman complain openly about the divine, calling them parasites and whatnot.

  < Yes, those leeches. Upon feeling their kin slain at the hand of a painter, they called for an immediate holy crusade. To purge us, saying we are the cause of everything bad to ever happen: 'for the floods and draught' as it were. The bastards reacted a bit too quickly for this to not have been planned, or at least expected.>

  They stayed silent for a moment, running fast along the dirt path in this evergreen forest. Iulia was trying to wrap her head around everything that happened, of what she learned, and failing to do so.

  But the calm was short-lived as something came whistling fast from behind.

  * HONK! * A familiar cry echoed behind them as the sharp whistling became a muted thump.

  She turned her head around, the dread never having left her, fear feeding into her mind.

  There, rolling on the ground behind her was Papusha, her mistress's newest familiar, and her dear friend. An arrow stuck out of her right side, and her body skidded to her feet before coming to a stop.

  Before she could comprehend, a hand wrapped around her arm as she was pulled by force onward, her head shooting upward, her eyes following. The once blue sky was dark, covered with something rapidly falling toward them. Arrows, so many arrows.

  Then, a roar came from above them, a huge familiar-looking beast of brown and black.

  'Motan, when did you get so big?! Run! Please leave!' The creature, as gigantic as it was majestic roared once more, its body covered in dense swirls of white ink. The attuned energy moved faster and faster, pulsing around its body and up to his wings, making them shine like a beacon as the air broke with a thunderclap. The wall of arrows batted away by the invisible sonic boom of Motan's spell.

  < Seems there's no more time left... There are a few things I want you to know first.>

  < Please, stop! Why are you speaking like this is the last time we are seeing each other!?!> Minadora smiles, swallowing hard. Her tears running down her face.

  < Because it might as well be. First, The ones you call gods, are not that. They are fools, extremely strong and dangerous, but greedy fools nonetheless, fools who sealed and stole the old ones' domains. Parading their church and followers like puppets. You were supposed to learn of this when you became an adept of two schools. But most of the order is already dead or gone, so heh.> She shrugged. This didn't sense to Iulia, and it felt out of place, especially right now.

  < Second, I am proud of you. Having you in my life brightened it more than you could possibly think. I... I, I even came to see you as my very own. I know that's unbe—> The old sorceress opened herself. Words struggled to exit her mouth as if they were knives dragging along her throat each time she articulated. But it was when her pupil, her own student wrapped her arms around her, that she let go, of her doubts, of her images, tears flowing freely down her eyes.

  < You offered me a home when I had none. You cared for me when none could nor would do so. You taught me your craft and helped me remake my own body. Didn't you find it odd I made my nose like yours? I... I care for you, I don't know if I can say it like a daughter would, that woman made it impossible for me to know how it should be. But, as my mentor and teacher? Yes. As someone I could always count on when I am miserable, absolutely. And even more so, as a friend, one who wanted to share my hobby, despite being an absolute nightmare in the kitchen.> Iulia had started to cry too. The sounds of battle echoed not far behind them.

  < I... Thank you... And...sorry I couldn't tell you sooner.> The older woman said softly, hugging her young friend in her arms, but she didn't stop there. Grabbing the smaller woman from under her shoulders, she turned around and pushed her through a large portal. < Do as it says and keep it close to you until you are out.>

  Iulia felt something being slipped into her hand as she fell onto her rear, her teacher turning her back to her, facing what she saw to be an army of knights. Large colossi of light and winged figures standing above them.

  < Today may seem to be for tears and despair, to wallow in sadness at the cold and uncaring fate we have. But now is not the time for doubts and inaction, nor it is to mope for the days gone; but to fight, to show our will to live, to exist and be happy of what happened. Show to those that would see us harm, our defiance! Our resilience, for we are worthy of it and so much more. To be who we are, WE FIGHT!> The air thrummed with prismatic Ink, deafening roars of her teacher's familiar filled the woods as she concluded her speech.

  Then, when the aperture was closing, she could see her teacher's atmosphere shifting: from sadness and fear to one of peace and acceptance.

  The words echoed in her head, imprinting themselves into her mind seamlessly before vanishing as she stood back. Anger and sadness bearing down on her mind, but she refused to give in, denying herself her own emotions. She finally looks down at what she was handed. A silver medallion with a small strip of paper.

  Summoning a mote a light, she unfolded the paper:

  [Stand in the middle of the structure in the carved circle and infuse ink inside the medallion.]

  Looking around, she noticed the place she was in, a dark cavern with smooth walls, and large standing stones connected with deep grooves standing in front of her.

  She was overwhelmed by everything that had transpired, but she needed to do it, she had to, for her.

  Walking onto the small elevation the stones were on, she stopped in the middle of it before slowly pushing ink into the amulet. This made the whole grotto light up, the stones gently humming with power, as more energy started to come from elsewhere.

  Then the walls started trembling as the light turned purple and coalesced into a deep saturated disk.

  < Here goes nothing I guess…>

  She walked through, holding herself from breaking down. The portal was unlike what she was used to: a long, stars and radiant clouds adorned tunnel that seemingly stretched on forever. At least the journey through felt so, but she kept walking, the bags growing more burdensome on her shoulders and arms as time went on. She was growing listless and tired, her mind reeling still.

  She did not notice what was in front, a blue orb with green and brown patches growing closer and bigger in front of her. Then she saw the end of the tunnel.

  The exit was much the same, yet she could see a peaceful night sky on the other side, lush hills, and a small village nestled between open fields and hills.

  Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself one last time. The walkover helped her quell her emotions, yet she felt still raw.

  One foot, then the other. She did it, she left alive. With her mentor's legacy in her bags.

  She dropped the bags to her side and fell to her knees, finally safe. Finally able to let loose.

  < ... can't even die in peace I swear.>