Sonder felt something strange.
It sat heavy in her chest, not quite sadness, but close.
A hollow ache, like a memory of something she should miss but didn't know how to hold onto.
She and Vell had left the witches behind. It had barely been a day, and already, the sharpness of their absence was fading. Shouldn't she feel worse?
Maybe it was the way her sense of time had changed. The month she had spent with them had stretched into what felt like a year, yet it meant less than she wanted it to.
In reality, she had only known them for a little over thirty days. Barely a breath in what Vell told her would be the long life she'd lead.
And if she really was going to live for a long time—decades, centuries—how many others would she meet only to lose just as quickly?
How many people would pass through her life like them—gone in barely any time at all?
The thought left her uneasy.
She didn't even know how old she was now. And what would happen when the one thing she sought was finally done?
What does someone do with a hundred years of nothing to look forward to?
Or two? Or three?
It scared her.
But Vell was beside her, and that was calming.
Not just her mentor, not just a constant in her life—he was proof that no matter how many years, one could get through them. He had lived longer than a few hundred years.
They walked in silence, the wild stretch of nature around them going unnoticed. The wind stirred the trees. The dirt path crunched beneath their boots. She barely registered any of it.
The thoughts wouldn't leave her alone.
Vell glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "You're awfully quiet."
"I'm thinking," she murmured.
He raised an eyebrow. "About what? If it's the girls, I'm sorry to pull you away so suddenly, but you're going to have to learn that people come and go. Sometimes before you're ready."
"I know," she said softly, but there was something small and sad in her voice.
Vell exhaled through his nose, then looked ahead. "It's not always like that, though. Not forever." He twirled his staff in his hands, as if searching for the right words. "Some things last. Some people stick around. I've known people so long that I've forgotten where and when I met them." He smirked.
They kept walking.
The quiet stretched, filled only by the steady rhythm of their footsteps.
Then, almost too softly to hear, Sonder asked, "Will you be around?"
Vell didn't stop, but he considered his answer.
"For a while," he said at last. Then, with a quiet chuckle, he added, "And for me, that's a long, long time."
Sonder exhaled. Maybe that was enough.
For now it was.