to be an everpetal

Adelyne could be considered an Elysiphim of many, many traits. Yet, few would be amiss to label curious or inquisitive as one of her top characteristics. When the whisper came, nothing more than a breeze, she stopped midway through reciting a magic spell.

"Did you forget? Or did you decide to waste both of our time with your lack of attention?" A harsh and somewhat cold voice asks her, and she looks over at her mentor. For a moment, her eyes are still unfocused, but as she blinks, she can see her mentor.

"Neither, Marley," she says with a sigh. The other Elysiphim clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated by the perceived lack of care in both the material and in formalities. He says nothing though, which gives her the room to speak instead. "I just heard something. A whisper." Her yellowish-green eyes move to the open window, her ears perking as another breeze sweeps in.

Her fluffy ears pick up the soft rustling of the pages in the various open tomes and loose parchment about the room, but they bring no whispers. She can tell Marley is listening too, but he doesn't seem like he hears anything.

"It makes me feel as though I should leave, take to the skies, and fly wherever my heart desires." There is something soft in her voice, something wistful. Dreamy, almost.

Marley had thought he had stamped out those childish aspects of Adelyne years ago.

"If I knew you'd follow the mere whimsy of everything rather than focus on your knowledge, I would've never agreed to be your mentor. You're hardly worthy of my time, and you don't do anything to prove otherwise." Sharp ice-blue eyes narrow, and his tail flicks in mild annoyance.

"Aw, come on, Marley. We both know you hardly agreed. I kept coming until you realized it was more annoying to deal with me than it was to teach me. And we both know I've done plenty of things to prove how much I care about magic and knowledge. I study almost all day," Adelyne says.

"Almost all day," Marley repeats, letting out a soft scoff. "Although I applaud you on your attempt at lying, we both know that is nothing but hyperbole." He lets out a sigh, moving his paw about in a way that suggests he doesn't care enough to engage further in this line of dialogue. Vapor swirls around his tail and one of his forepaws, a physical manifestation that his magic was too strong to be contained within.

"Tell me about the whisper."

Adelyne is so startled by the question (or rather, the demand?) that she is quiet for a moment. There's a sharpness to his voice, but that wasn't uncommon. Marley had always been an Elysiphim of paltry words and a particularly sharp tongue. When meeting him when she was a child, originally she had been a bit intimidated and scared of him. However, she quickly realized that he didn't have a bitter heart and that his natural abrasiveness was usually not done on purpose. He just lacked social skills.

Yet, there is some kind of force behind his words that makes her feel that she shouldn't lie or omit the truth. Shouldn't? Or couldn't. She had no time to think about it, as it soon felt like the words were pouring out of her mouth before her brain could process them.

"It doesn't whisper any words, really. It is a whisper, yes, but it's more so a feeling. It encourages me, lures me, begs me. To follow it, to run and leap in the air, to fly. All I know is that it is not The Weaver. I've heard tales! Tales of other Elysiphim hearing this voice, knowing that it wasn't The Weaver. Perhaps it means something. Perhaps I follow it and find out! Think of the things that I could learn, the things I could write about and include in the texts for every other Elysiphim to come. Marley, I should go immediately! I should--"

"Do nothing."

Marley's words come out as a command. The words shock Adelyne to her very core, and she blinks slowly. A small, awkward smile cracks on her face. At any moment, she figures her mentor will roll his eyes at her reaction, and then shoo her off. He'd probably say something that suggests that her out of his fur is the best possible option. Yet, that doesn't come after many long moments, and her smile vanishes from her face.

"But you've taught me to question things, Marley. You say part of what separates an outstanding scholar from a worthless one is the first asks questions and finds the truth and the other believes the truth from texts without any other considerations." Her confusion shows in her voice and her mannerisms as she tilts her head to the side.

"There is a difference between pursuing truth and knowledge and turning your back on The Weaver," Marley warns.

"How is pursuing this turning my back on The Weaver?!" She exclaims, finally letting her frustration in her voice. The childish slip causes Marley to raise an eyebrow for her, and she huffs and fixes her posture and her hat as she takes a breath. When she has a rough semblance of calm, Marley responds, words slow and enunciated as if he were still talking to a child.

"It won't be, as long as you are smart. Remember what you've been taught and stay in control. But this voice, you do not know if it comes from someone good-natured or evil. And as you said, it compels you to do something for a reason you do not know. Yet, if it were not for me, you'd fly towards it without a second thought." He lets out a sigh, looking out the window. There's a distant emotion in his eyes, one that Adelyne does not know how to place.

Her gaze then follows his own, focusing on the golden landscape out the window. She knows her error. She knows that Marley is right and is thankful for his words.

"Remember, Adelyne," Marley says softly, and she looks back at him even as he continues to look outside. "You are my one and only apprentice. Not only that, but you have left your previous name behind for my own. You are an Everpetal. That name has meaning. Responsibility."

Marley makes eye contact with her, and suddenly she is that child from years and years ago. She looks down at her front paws out of awkwardness. Though they now share a last name, they were hardly father and daughter. Marley was much too cold for that, much too uninterested and unknowing of what a family was like.

"I know." She says, her voice barely audible.

There are moments of considerable silence, long and awkward, until eventually Marley sighs, grabs a cup of tea, and sips it softly. "Finish the spell, then go."

Adelyne's head jerks up, staring at her mentor with surprise. "Really? You'll let me go?" There's a slight wag of her tail, but nothing too overt. She should avoid emotional outbursts or getting excited too early in case it is another certified Everpetal trick.

"Yes, but only if you recite it properly."

And so Adelyne does, reciting the spell, ingredients, and steps perfectly. She is, after all, an Everpetal. This name is not just a name. It shows who her mentor is and ties her to him. And his mentor, and so on. It is a title, almost. It burdens her with responsibility, yet frees her with power. Even if Adelyne is an adult for many years now, her mentor still sees her as a child. This could be the opportunity to prove herself to him and to prove herself worthy of the Everpetal name. To show she didn't make a mistake in choosing this path.

She turns and leaves with determination ablaze in her heart, and Marley watches her figure recede, knowing it could very well be the last time that he sees her. Goodbyes were hard, though, and he didn't want to set off any fear or anxiety in the girl. Regardless of how he acted, he cared about her. He also knew that if he were to give an oddly emotional goodbye, she'd notice it immediately. Instead, he waits for her to exit the ivory tower, and watches her leave through the golden grass and take off into the skies.

"Good luck, my daughter. May you be safe in whatever you choose."