26. Natalie

26

NATALIE

T he shrill ring of my phone pierces the tranquil atmosphere of Myrtle’s old shop, where I’m working once again at the countertop. My heart skips a beat when I see Barnabus’s name on the caller ID. I answer, and the satyr lawyer’s voice crackles through the speaker, full of excitement and urgency.

“Natalie, I have some news. Asper’s financing for the property sale is nearly complete. We should be able to close the deal within the week.”

His words should fill me with a sense of triumph and relief. Instead, uncertainty grips me, twisting in my gut.

“That’s… that’s great, Barnabus,” I manage, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. “Thanks for the update.”

“Of course, my dear. I’ll be in touch with the final details. We’re almost there!”

I end the call, my mind reeling with the implications of Barnabus’s news. Setting the phone down on the counter, my fingers tremble slightly as I grapple with the realization that I’m no longer certain about selling Myrtle’s property.

The path back to my old life in the city, to the partnership I’ve worked so hard to secure, now feels distant and unreal. It’s as if it’s an old dream, fading in the light of day, one that no longer holds the same pull it once did.

Wandering through the shop, I trail my fingers along the wooden shelves, still imbued with the scent of herbal jars and trinkets that have become so familiar to me over the past weeks. Rosemary, sage, lavender—each scent evokes memories of my time spent in this town.

Can I really leave all of this behind? Trade the enchantment and connection of Elderberry Falls for the fast-paced life I had in the city?

With a deep sigh, I settle at the counter, a notebook and pen clutched in my hands. In a classic Natalie move, I divide the paper down the middle to make a pros and cons list.

I may have become more in tune with my emotions here, but I can’t just uproot my life, my future, over mere feelings, right? There needs to be a good reason if I’m going to let my old life go so completely.

Under “Pros,” the words flow effortlessly. Rian’s name is first, followed by Jessa, Velda, Ecco, and the countless others who have welcomed me into their lives. I scribble “master magic” and “build community,” my heart swelling with each stroke of the pen.

Even the challenges—mastering my powers, finding my place in this mystical world—feel more like opportunities than obstacles, I realize.

When I turn to the “Cons” column, my hand falters. The partnership, the corner office, the prestige. It all seems so hollow now. I manage to write “job in the city,” but I pause after jotting it down.

Was the corner office ever truly what I wanted? Or just what I thought I wanted, after years of not belonging, being teased for being poor, for not fitting in?

If I didn’t have to prove anything to anyone… what would I choose?

I stare at the list, the imbalance glaringly obvious. My mom’s house is paid off; there’s no material reason that I need to make the jump to partner, not when I’m already making a generous living in my current role.

Do I even want to move away from working with clients, into a more managerial role? Working with people like Ecco… it’s what I’ve always loved about my job.

My musings are interrupted by a chiming of the clock. “Shit,” I mutter, realizing I’m running late for my training session with Velda. I tuck the notebook into my bag and rush out the door, the bell tinkling cheerfully behind me as if mocking my inner turmoil.

Velda and I sit cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by an array of jars and bowls, each one filled with a different blend of spices and enchanted ingredients.

“Close your eyes,” Velda instructs, her voice soft and soothing. “Breathe deeply, and focus on the magic within you.”

I obey, letting my eyelids flutter shut, my breathing settling down until my inhales and exhales are slow and steady. I reach for the now-familiar warmth that pulses beneath my skin, the power that has lain dormant for so long.

“Now, channel that energy into the bowl before you, sensing each herb and spice as you do.”

I extend my hands, hovering them over the bowl of fragrant spices. I visualize the magic streaming from my fingertips, weaving itself into the mixture, imbuing it with life and purpose.

A surge of energy courses through my veins, a tingling sensation that starts in my fingertips and spreads like wildfire throughout my body. My eyes fly open, and I gasp, barely able to believe the sight before me.

The spices swirl in the air, their colors vibrant and alive. And the aroma emanating from the mixture is a poignant blend of the smells of Myrtle’s signature blend as well as something distinctly my own.

It’s a far cry from the accidental bursts of magic I’ve managed before, the half-formed attempts that left me drained and frustrated.

“You did it!” Velda exclaims, her eyes shining with pride. “You’ve tapped into your magic, deliberately and with control! The first time is always the hardest, dear—this is a huge step!”

I let the magic go and watch as the spices settle gently back into the bowl. Then, I reach for the power again, marveling at how easily it comes now, how natural it feels to wield this power.

Again and again, I summon the magic, each time more effortless than the last.

For the first time since arriving in Elderberry Falls, I truly connected to the legacy my grandmother left behind. The realization hits me like a tidal wave: I don’t just want to control my powers.

I want to explore them, learn everything there is to know. I want to refine them, to earn the title of “witch” instead of just “mage.”

I know, with a certainty that resonates in every fiber of my being, that this magic is part of who I am now. There’s no going back.

Our training session comes to a close, and I hug Velda tightly, pouring all my gratitude into the embrace. She’s been more than just a teacher; she’s truly become family to me.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

Velda smiles, her eyes misty. “You’ve always had the power within you, Natalie. You just needed to believe in yourself.”

With those words ringing in my ears, I step out into the fading sunlight, my heart lighter than it’s been in years.

Is this what it feels like to find your home?

The sun dips lower in the sky as Rian, Jessa, and I make our way to Ecco and Graeme’s house, the air filled with the sounds of our laughter and the occasional chirp—followed by a bubble—from Jessa’s pet bubbledragon, Thrasher. The little creature flits around us, its iridescent scales catching the light as it releases bursts of bubbles that shimmer and pop in the evening breeze, swirling together in beautiful patterns and iridescent colors.

Jessa giggles as Thrasher lands on her shoulder, nuzzling her cheek affectionately. “He’s been practicing his bubble formations all week,” she confides, her voice brimming with pride. “I think he’s finally got the hang of it.”

As we approach Ecco and Graeme’s front door, I feel a flicker of nervousness, wondering what they’d say if they knew I was considering staying in Elderberry Falls. Would Ecco think I’m abandoning my responsibilities to her, to my clients generally?

Before I can dwell on it further, the door swings open, and behind it is a beaming Ecco, her blue hair shimmering in the fading light. She immediately pulls Jessa into a warm hug, drawing the young minotaur into an animated discussion about her latest studies. In times like these, I remember that Ecco was Jessa’s babysitter for years before she hit it big as a singer.

“I’ve been working on a new enchanted melody,” Ecco confides, her voice lowered conspiratorially. “It’s supposed to enhance your senses, make everything feel more vibrant and colorful. Want to help me test it out later?”

Jessa’s face lights up as they disappear into the house, still deep in conversation. Rian turns to me, kissing me gently before walking inside. I can’t keep myself from smiling.

The scent of roasted garlic and simmering tomato sauce draws Rian towards the kitchen like a siren’s call. He gravitates to Graeme’s side, falling into an easy rhythm as they work together to prepare the meal. Graeme chops vegetables with military precision while Rian stirs the sauce, their movements synchronized and effortless.

I settle into the corner of the couch, in the middle of their cozy living room, my gaze drifting between the two heart-warming scenes unfolding before me.

In one corner, Ecco and Jessa dissolve into a fit of giggles, their heads bent together over Thrasher, as he continues to test his bubble creations. Each time he blows a bubble, Ecco’s pet glowkitten, Minx, raises a lazy paw into the air and pops it with her claw. Thrasher is getting clearly incensed, beginning to blow bubbles at a speed that Minx can’t match.

In the kitchen, Rian and Graeme’s laughter and good-natured banter fill the air, punctuated by the rhythmic chopping of knives and the clatter of pots and pans. They move with the ease of long-time friends.

I try to remember the last time I went to a friend’s house to make a meal other than Rian’s or my mom’s, the last time I felt this level of comfort and ease in a social setting, and come up empty. I’ve been here almost two months and no one from the city besides my mother visited me.

Standing here, surrounded by the laughter and love of these people who have come to mean so much to me, I feel a shift within myself, quiet but powerful.

My mind drifts back to the almost blank ‘cons’ column in my notebook. To the growing sense of connection and purpose I’ve found in Elderberry Falls, and to the man who has captured my heart in ways I never thought possible.

I realize there’s nothing more to think about. My decision has already been made.