I spend most of the afternoon practicing braiding my hair, not doing nearly so good a job as Mom, but it’s enough to distract me from the arguing inside. When Pop comes home, walking down the side of the mountain and into our backyard as he always does, I’m the first person he sees.

“Hey there, Red. What’s eatin’ ya?”

I look up from the braid end in my hand, having just finished tying it off with thread.

“I can’t get my braids as neat as Mom,” I answer. It’s not the biggest problem, but it is bothering me.

“Well, it’s your first time trying. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with not getting it perfect the first time. Gotta be careful with potions, though, they can make you sick if you don’t get them right. Where’s your mom?”

“Inside, getting yelled at by Professor Ulesi.”

He pauses, listening for the sound of voices, but shrugs a moment later.

“I think the yelling’s stopped by now.”

“If that were true, they’d have let me back inside,” I retort, instantly wishing I’d held my tongue. So maybe I’m a little bitter about getting stuck in the corner while the adults hash it out over some story or another. The look of concern on Pop’s face wasn’t worth venting about it.

“Well, let me see if they’ve calmed down,” he says, stepping towards the door. He pauses to pull a bundled-up handkerchief to me, dark blue stains seeping through it. “Have a snack while you wait for me?”

I gladly accept the fresh-picked berries and munch my way through half of them before Pop comes back out and sits down next to me.

“Seems like they’re gonna need some more time in there. Anything you wanna do before it gets dark?”

I look down at the snack in my hands, seeds piled next to me on the stair, and suddenly feel sick.

“No, not really. Am I in trouble?”

“Of course not, Red, nobody’s mad at you.” Pop puts his arm around me, hugging me tightly. “Your mom just has her own way of doing things, this isn’t the first time it’s made her friends or family mad.”

I lean into him, enjoying the smell of fresh herbs and mountain pine that clings to his clothes. Pop ruffles my hair gently, feeling out the braids I made, then kisses the top of my head.

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo. Most don’t see their hair change until the Day of Beginnings ceremony when they officially receive their name. You’re a special kind of brave to have made this kind of step on your own. And you know what? So what if you don’t go about it the same way as every other kid. You’re not every other kid, you’re ours. And that’s all we’ll ever need to love you.”

A weight I hadn’t realized was there lifts from me, but a single thought brings it all back down to rest in my gut hard enough to send shivers through me like glass struck with a fork.

“Am I supposed to know my name by now?”

The question slips from me in a hushed breath, but Pop hears it anyway. He squeezes me gently again, and sighs.

“It’s better for your Mom to explain that. Like I said, she has her own way of doing things, and I can’t really do her reasoning justice. Just know that I trust her, and both of us love you very much, and we only want what’s best for you. Can you hold on until then?”

I nod, and we stay quiet for a moment.

“Pop, can you tell me a story?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m not so good with them…”

“Why not?” I ask, giving him my best puppy eyes. 

“Well… what sorts of stories do you like?”

“Any kind.”

“Is that so?” He grins at me. “Even if it’s boring?”

“If you tell boring stories on purpose you’re just mean.”

We both laugh a little, and Pop pulls me into his lap before stealing a berry for himself.

“Alright, well, how about I tell you the legend of lampleaf? Every good herbalist knows at least one version of the tale, but I’m gonna tell you my favorite.”

I nod eagerly, unable to hide my anticipation.

“Of all the plants in the world, trees, herbs, writhing weeds and bugsnatchers, wheat and wildflowers, lampleaf has been written about the most and studied the longest. However, even after all the thousands of years and thousands upon thousands of scholars who tried, no one has been able to figure out why it can do what it does. Why it makes potions act like potions, why it makes them turn blue no matter what the ingredients are, or even where the liquid comes from when infusing it.

“There’s ideas, of course. That it’s a forgotten creation of the Age of War, or that one of the infinite Gods put it here for us to use, or that it’s proof magic is a natural force and not only a gift from the Gods. All anyone can agree actually upon is that the legend has the same basic details. It goes a little like this:

“Back before even the Age of War, when humans were new and still learning how to draw fire from wood like lightning does, the Gods did not care for us the way they do now. Instead of allowing the choices we make to determine our path, the paths were laid out for us from start to finish, and there were often competitions for who could create the most beautiful path in a mortal's life.

“Two of the Gods, Loe and Luc, shared responsibility for supporting the major aspects of love. Loe represents the persistent love, the quiet attachments to family and loved ones that weather the storms of life. Luc represents passionate love, the bright and fierce drive that can bring people together despite impossible circumstances. They couldn’t agree on who upheld the more important form of love, the tender bond or the passionate one, and so set upon a pair of humans to make their case.

“Loe found Shii, a human who valued their emotional connections so highly they felt no need for physical ones, while Luc found Mim, who felt that way about physical connections. The two of them were tasked with finding a partner by the end of the year who would exchange the third vow with them. The first to succeed would be considered the winner, have their bond blessed, and prove which of the gods had the more important aspect.

“At the end of the year, however, it came to be that Shii and Mim exchanged the third vow with one another, proving their love to exist beyond the aspects the Gods were attempting to uphold. That day, they were blessed by both Loe and Luc, and the first lampleaf sprouted at their feet.”

Pop pauses to eat another berry, one of the last, but before he can even spit out the seed the door opens behind us.

“Sorry for the wait. You two can come back in now,” Mom says, her voice quiet. Pop sets the handkerchief aside and stands up with me in his arms to carry us both inside.

Ulesi hasn’t moved but looks almost as worn-out as Mom. They give me an apologetic look and glance down at the astersum in their hand.

Pop sets me down barely two steps from the Professor and moves to put an arm around Mom, who is still leaning against the kitchen counter, but she is at least facing the room this time.

“Child, as you do not know your name, we cannot give your measure as a proper judgment. Would you rather your name first or know the scope of your magic?”

“What’s the difference?” I ask. Ulesi smiles kindly.

“Some believe knowing your magical prowess first can affect how well you take your name. It is seen as better to accept yourself first before uncovering the limitations you'll have, whatever they may be, of your connection to the Gods.”

It’s a difficult choice. I wanted to know right away about magic, but if I ended up with none what would that do? Give me an excuse to ignore Kontis for the rest of forever? I decide to keep to myself how much I’d much rather sever that connection entirely.

“I wanna ask Mom about some stuff first, so I’ll just get measured for now,” I answer. Ulesi seems impressed and holds the astersum out to me.

“You may use as many or as few limbs as you like, so long as you only touch two sides of the cube.”

I carefully touch a finger from each hand to opposite silver edges and gasp with delight as the astersum lights up.

Mom, Pop, and Ulesi all gasp as well, though none of them with quite the same excitement.

In the dark circle on the box’s top, a constellation of five stars outlined as an X glows brightly, all five stars in it blazing brightly. A yellow-green circle surrounds it, bright as the sun through fresh spring grass, and it seems to fluctuate as though unstable.

Much more prominently, however, the other five sides of the astersum are practically blinding. Intense beams of white, green, red, blue, and yellow light all streak from the cube with painful brightness, and I reflexively throw my hands in front of my eyes to protect them.

A moment later, Ulesi is wrapping the astersum in its cocoon of rags again, lips pressed tightly together to hold in the million thoughts racing behind their eyes. I look at Mom and Pop, and both of them are alternating between staring at me, at the astersum, and at each other.

“Um, what’s going on?" I ask, to no avail. The adults in the room spend their time staring in dumbfounded silence or packing up their things in a much more focused quiet.

Ulesi stands as best they can before leaning down and offering me a hand, their other one tucked behind them.

"It has been an interesting experience, young one," they say, and I put my right hand in theirs. A gentle squeeze is followed by the Professor's other hand slipping forward in a blur to snap a bracelet around my wrist. It heats up for a moment, enough that I gasp in pain before it cools again into an unbroken band.

"My apologies for the surprise, but this is something your mother can explain just fine. Needless to say, when you reach the Academy's age of admission, please find your way there. Until then, I recommend you keep this mum. The bangle will help with both."

There's a distance to their voice, stiffness which belies their distraction, and I find myself at a loss for words as Ulesi nods to Mom and Pop before leaving without another word.

As soon as the front door shuts, I turn to my parents.

"Okay," I say, taking a deep breath. Partly to clear my own head, partly to show them I'm not panicking. Yet. "Will you please tell me what just happened?"

Pop looks at Mom, who looks at him before glancing at me, then down at the floor. After taking a deep breath, she raises her head.

“Derran, can you put on some tea?”

He turns around without a word and starts making fresh cups for us, and Mom moves to sit on the floor next to me. She pats the ground.

“Sit down, honey. Let’s start with the most important thing first.”

“What’s more important than magic?” I demand, sitting down obediently all the same.

“How about your name?” There’s a sad smile on Mom’s face, but it’s nothing like when she would stare at my hair.

“Oh,” I say. “Right.”