The feast had been loud, full of laughter and clinking glasses, but now, the night was quiet.
The witches sat together in the candlelit dining hall, the remnants of their meal scattered across the table—empty plates, drained cups, and the occasional half-eaten roll forgotten in conversation. Some, who had sworn they couldn't eat another bite, were still absently picking at leftovers.
Sonder leaned back in her chair, as usual, barely touching her food—except if it was sweet.
Across from them, Vell idly turned his fork in his hand, prodding at what little remained on his plate. He hadn't said much since the meal had ended.
The silence stretched until finally, he spoke.
"This is probably goodbye."
The warmth of the evening thinned; the words cut through it like a blade.
The blue witch straightened. "What?" Her expression didn't change, but her fingers curled slightly against the table's edge.
Vell didn't want to dwell. "You're staying here. You've found your purpose—at least for a while." He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "The scholarships are handled. You won't have to worry about coin." His gaze flickered toward the window, where the city lights burned against the dark. "And you can stay in the house. It's yours now. I paid the rent for a few years. You'll figure out the rest after that."
"You—" The blue witch hesitated, then found her voice. "Just like that? You're leaving?"
Vell chuckled, but there was no real amusement in it. "What, you thought I'd stick around forever? Targe didn't say I had to babysit you, did she?"
The witches exchanged glances, each one waiting for someone else to speak.
Finally, someone did. "Why? Why now?"
Vell shrugged. "I was never meant to stay. I got you through the gate. That was the job." He tapped his fingers against the table, his tone light, but his eyes weighted. "You don't need me anymore."
Sonder studied him, then shook her head. The others had come to rely on him, like she had done, but in the end, he had chosen only her.
Vell smiled, just a little. "You don't see it yet, but you will." He gestured vaguely toward the academy. Even if it's not final, it's more than obvious you passed the exams. The rest is on you now."
The fire witch crossed her arms. "You're being dramatic. You could at least—" She cut herself off, exhaling sharply through her nose. "Never mind."
Vell watched her for a moment, then reached into his robe and pulled out a small pouch, tossing it onto the table. It landed with a dull clink.
"A little extra," he said. "For things scholarships don't cover. Don't spend it all in one place."
No one moved to take it.
Then, the yellow witch sighed, picked it up, and tucked it away without a word.
Sonder leaned forward slightly. "Where are we going next?"
Vell gazed into the air, something distant about his eyes. "I don't know."
That answer wasn't good enough, but they all knew he wouldn't give a better one.
A strange quiet settled over them—not heavy, not entirely sad, but final.
Vell stood, stretching. "You'll do fine," he said, as if that settled it. Then, as he reached the door, he paused. "Oh, and you can keep the books. No matter how angry Hiraeth gets, at least we'll know they're in good hands."
He held out his hand. "Come, Sonder."
She hesitated, then stood, offering quiet goodbyes to the others. She glanced back one last time.
And with that, they were gone.
The witches sat in silence for a while, listening to the faint echo of their footsteps fade into the night.