Another couple months passed in the bliss of Ivian's company. It felt like summer again, old times when I was with the smell of Ivian's clean wool clothing. Just that now there was a smell of mud and thawing snow.

Then, one day, I was awoken from a nap, not to Ivian or mother, but to a round, wrinkled face.

"Tilly," my mother said from the doorway, "Grita is here to take care of you during the evening."

My mother seemed impatient. Even as she was speaking, she turned and walked down the hall. She must have just brought Grita here and left to go take care of some other matter.

"You understood that, didn't you," Grita asked me.

I stared at Grita and she stared back at me.

It wasn't the first time I had seen Grita. She was the old woman who came from time to time to talk with mother or Ivian about me. However, it was the first time she had come just to babysit me. Mother was busy with directing the cleaning in the manor and the yards now that it was the spring.

I didn't answer her question. It's unnatural for a child barely over a year old to hold a conversation and Grita didn't look very understanding or kind. I might get in trouble if I acted too much like myself or talked about the white haired people.

I tried to keep an ear open for what was going on in the house.

"Where did grandma go?" Grita suddenly said playfully, putting her hands in front of her face.

You're not my grandma.

"Here she is!"

"Hmhehe," I tried to suppress my chuckle. When she took her hands away, I saw her whiskers! She was a cat. I remember cats, though I haven't seen any.

"Your mother and maid are so proud of you."

That made me giggle some more. I was proud of my mother and my Ivian too.

"They speak of you being so able to talk about all sorts of things and run around even though that should still be beyond you."

I let her talk to herself as I turned my ear to other sounds in the house. I think mother and father were talking downstairs. I couldn't really hear though, other than the muted mumble. I give up.

"Not so much as your maid claimed, but you do seem to be quite an intelligent one."

"Tilvrade, mmh," the old lady nodded to herself, "There was a Tilvrade once. A great Tilvrade, but a foolish one..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think I fell asleep. This granny was mumbling on about some boring story. Just because there was another person with my name once upon a time didn't mean I was going to repeat his mistakes.

It was nighttime anyways, so sleeping was probably a sensible thing to do.

It's just that I had slept for most of the day after playing with Fafi this morning. Maybe if Grita hadn't put me back to sleep with her story, I would have fallen asleep a bit later and slept until the morning, but now my eyes were wide open.

Grita still seemed to be sitting in the chair beside my cradle, her head slumped down as she let out soft, whinnying snores.

I heard a thumping and focused on my ears. Maybe it isn't simply restfulness that woke me up?

Dadadump, dadadump, dadadump

It comes from outside, so my fears of a thief or rodent seem to have been unfounded.

"Hiiingh," it continues to get louder until a horse sized whinny put an end to the rhythmic sound.

The whinny was a give away. Even if I was unfamiliar with the sound of a horse running, I was able to put it together with the very brief sound that I had heard when we went to visit Sandy.

But why were there horses and in the middle of the night at that?

"Grita?" I called slightly apprehensively.

It was the first time I hadn't been put to bed by mother or Ivian or that I shared my room with a stranger.

Now that I was more alert, I could smell an unfamiliar scent pervading the room. The smell reminded me a bit of the tiny bag of flower stems that mother put in the table drawer with my clothes. It also smelled of the soap Mr. Barker made and had a bitter or sour smell too, like my father's feet when he took off his boots after training. It seemed to be Grita's smell.

"Grita," I said a bit more loudly.

The sound of footsteps downstairs meant that someone else had heard the horses out front. I think it was my father.

I stopped shouting to Grita, waiting to hear what happened. I was a bit worried by the night visit by the horses, but father always gave a composed and steady feeling, so I should be able to leave it to him.

The next hour passed quickly as I stared up at the triangle of moonlight on the dark ceiling. Below, muffled sounds of footsteps and questions accentuated the cool night breeze.

I had just gone through a winter of frigid snow and cold draughts, so even though it didn't feel so cold as before, I didn't want to come out of the sheets until the shining sun came out in the morning.

Spring and its new life and flowers would defeat the winter air. At least, that was what the images of flowers and trees from the other world told me as they bloomed in fast motion around me. I wish the knowledge that came into my head when I thought of the seasons had more purpose or use but like so many of the things I knew for no reason, they were just errant thoughts and foreign words, idly crowding my mind like chirping birds.

I wanted to do something more, be someone more. That's what I thought, as moving angles of light and gold interrupted the triangle of moonlight on the ceiling.

The horses had come around to the yard. I was so close to the window and yet so far. I looked at the dark night sky and the flashes of light.

"Leave her to ya'," a man's voice talked and I thought I heard a boy's response.

There was a clattering of the stable doors and something else. Then the lights disappeared and there was a final thump.

Grita had slept through it all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grita was turning around from the first rays of sunlight in the open window when I woke up.

"A morning bright is a joyful sight, for little ones as well as old. Let's rise and awake for goodness' sake and with the day unfold." She gestured with her arm as she sang the small verse in her scratchy voice.

It was a quirky, but fit Grita somehow, the old lady seeming to tell us we better make the most of the new day.

I remembered Grita slumbering during the night, head and shoulders slouched over. She seemed to be used to talking to herself and making do. But maybe she wasn't all displeased to be brought in to the manor this past night to take care of my babyness.

She had rough and slightly clumsy hands, but I put my hands out on top of me and it didn't take long to change me.

"Toilet," I said and pointed beneath the cradle.

"You're used to the chamber pot already?" Grita asked.

Come to think of it, I reaaally had to go. I don't think I pooped a single time yesterday.

Then she shook her head and bent down to draw out the plain grey porcelain.

"Here you go," she said placing me down on top of the chamber pot.

I heard the sound of an enormous yawn outside the open window and wanted to go see whoever it was who seems to have slept in the stables last night.

I had to wait for a bit though as I was washed up and by then, the sounds of boots had moved inside.

I smiled as I heard a hint of Ivian's voice. It seemed she was downstairs too, working already.

"Lady Cianna runs a good household," Grita said, watching my smile. "I'll go downstairs and see if we can find something to eat."

Grita put me back in the cradle and made her way out the room.

For all her age and wrinkles, she didn't seem to lack energy or have any problem walking up and down the stairs.

When the door opened again, it was Ivian who came through it.

"Did you sleep well Tilly? I hope you weren't too much hassle to Grita. She's been really kind to come to the manor to take care of you. I'm sorry I haven't been able to be around very much these days. There has been so much to do."

Ivian lifted me up and pat my head, then brought me over to the wooden chair by the window and had me sit down to eat my bowl of breakfast.

"I'll have to leave again, but make sure you eat and don't get into trouble. We got a messenger from the capital last night. Your mother's father, Ipocond Birbek is planning a visit to Olwick in a week's time. Without Aian here, there's too much to do. Your father said Saul would be meeting with some possible hands to hire, come up from the village, but they still aren't here."

So the sounds last night and the yawns this morning must have been this messenger.

A person on a horse seemed a poor substitute for a proper communications channel. Even at a great distance, as long as the receiving tether was fixed, the signal just had to be sent to a set of coordinates. It wasn't all that hard, just a simple incantation.

Mouch

Ivian kissed my forehead and then handed my supervision to Grita, who had come in sometime in the middle of that, her own bun and butter on a plate in hand.

Before I took a spoonful of the semolina with squash and peas, I looked out the window. Then, not seeing anything of note, I sorted through all the things Ivian had told me as I took a bite.

Father was probably gone prancing around the village to do whatever it is he does with the other horseback riders. Saul was just going to meet with new helpers to replace Aian. Meanwhile, Ivian was left with the affairs of the estate and, right now, that meant taking care of this messenger.

Maybe Ivian should be put in charge...

I heard the sound of a horse again and looked out the window. Saul was pulling on the reigns and slowing to a halt in front of the stables. It seems that he was late!

Vis ran out from the house and grabbed the horse while Saul went into the entrance to the kitchens that I had yet to see. Yup, Saul wasn't even in on time, and now he's going to pillage the kitchens while Ivian slaves away...

I guess if even Saul was around in the house today though, we really were short of helpers.

Grita, following her small success yesterday, seemed to want to play peekaboo, but I really didn't.

I smiled for her benefit but was frequently taking peeks out the window, looking forward to going outside now that it was getting warmer again.

"Fafi!" I called as soon as I saw the big dog run out from a thicket of trees, Mr. Barker soon following behind.

I had been all winter cooped up inside without my fluffy. This was perfect.

Grita looked out the window as well and frowned a bit. "The dog? You play with the dog already?"

"Yes! Play! Outside!"

I was a bit hesitant still to speak normally in front of this caretaker. She wasn't really family, and she was the midwife, likely to be more sensitive to my unusual growth, which I had very much realised it was after meeting Eve.

The last thing I wanted was for that witchdoctor to be called back, assuming Grita wasn't going to start poking around herself.

Outside was clear. Chilly, but a pleasant climate again.

I shouted and waved towards Mr. Barker and his dog, and they barked and ahayed back.

"Grace of the morning to you, young master. Quite a boy to have a different lass with you every time."

"Hahaha," Grita cackled most unseemingly.

"Fafi, Fafi!" I called but Grita pulled me closer to her and waved the dog off a bit.

Circling around us, Fafi was much less excited around the old midwife. I understand the cutie. Grita had a certain presence to her, like a captain does among soldiers.

Instead, Grita used her free hand to spread out a place napkin over a stump of wood, not far from where Mr. Barker was, once again, sliding a block against the wood.

As Grita sat her ample rump down on the stump, she watched the dog and mumbled, "Okay then, let's see how this works."

She put me down on her knee so I could easily put my hands out and sink into that wonderful feeling of fur.

"What are you making there, Jom?" Grita called out, now that we were settled.

"Oh this?" Mr. Barker responded, looking up from his stress plank. "You know of the young man, I reckon. Sad thing that, he wasn't even 20."

"Ah, it's a coffin then," Grita responded in a dispirited tone.

"Right you be, right you be. That old buzzard should never of been called to the manor. I hear the lord and his wife are havin' a hard time of it now. Well, you're here taking care of the young'un, what more need I say?"

"Parents, Jom, they're all the same. This little one really seems to be something else though. Look at him with your Fafi, not scared a wink."

I was presently trying to wriggle out of the caretaker's clasp. Fafi wanted to frolic, and so did I!

"Okay then, tyke, I'll put you down, but you better not be going nowhere now, hear me? I don't want to have to get up and be chasing you and that pup around."

As soon as Grita lowered me, Fafi came right up and started licking at my face.

"Oh no you don't!" Grita scolded, and I was lifted right back up. "Oy Jom, don't tell me the lady lets your bitch all over the boy," she accused questioningly.

"What's that? A bit of innocent play, Fafi means no harm."

"Aah. You're all fools," Grita grumbled, "Just because she has a pretty coat of fur doesn't mean she's clean. I can see she is unlikely to have fleas, seeing at how you pretty her, but all manner of pest and worms will take hold in those gums or stomach."

Parasites... eww. I looked at Fafi, and wondered why they didn't just get rid of them. Of course, even a simple analyse spell was not so simple in this world and a specialist in ridding pestilence was most likely a rarity. How did people even survive without the ability to treat themselves?

Is that why that shaman could make a living despite being so obviously a sham?

Was my life going to be taken prematurely by some errant flu?

"Even if she had no pests, you must've seen dogs and their pups before. What do you think'll happen if your bitch got it in her mind to nip our young master around the neck or vomit him a meal. Fools all of you. I'll have to give the lady a talking to too..."

Aww, Fafi, don't bite me. Why would you bite a pup around the neck anyway, that sounds grizzly.

"Ah, yes, apologies ma'am. I don't know much about children, I'm afraid."

Fafi was sitting and whimpering all the while this old midwife scolded her owner. I think Fafi repented enough. Now maybe some more play?

My thoughts were simply not to be though, as Grita decided there was no time like the present and picked me up for another walk to the manor.

As we approached, I saw something very interesting. Just outside of the stables, Saul was looking at a duo of middle-aged men who were lined up. They all exchanged looks and peered at the stables' door.

"Lord Saul, yer said it's 15 copper a day, did'ja'?" The crooked nosed one was asking.

"15 Efeles copper pieces, food and boarding in the stables. We'll only take one of you and it will be temporary, until the Lord Ipocond's visit is concluded or we can find a replacement for the recently deceased valet."

Suddenly, I was transported.

I saw a room around me, the wall behind the white haired people half a window looking out onto magiluminescent light wrapping around a large building behind.

Between me and the window, two men and a woman sat behind a long table, all dressed in one colour suits.

"It says here you know about virspheres," said the one in the middle. "I might be prepared to offer you a position in marketing, if you can design virtual runes."

"Yes, sir," the crooked nosed man's reply snapped me back to reality, even though it was the same reply given to the officious people in suits. I think Saul was hiring a replacement for Vis, just as I had been hired in that corporate office.

I thought of Vis barfing just outside the house after the Shaman's visit so many months ago.

Mr. Barker told Grita he was making a coffin. Was that for Vis then?

"Ye'see," the crooked nosed man pointed to the hulking one beside him, "I been walkin' with this 'ere boy from the village. He's got something of a natural curse 'ee does, dense as a baby."

The bigger man did look a bit dense, staring at a little bird hopping on the grass nearby as someone was badmouthing him right to his side.

"You need sumun like me, who knows 'is left foot from 'is right."

I couldn't believe Vis was going to be replaced by one of these clowns, one mean, the other dumb.

Vis, may you rest in peace and be reincarnated anew.

I mumbled a small prayer for the departed and thanked the stars that it wasn't Ivian or mother or myself who caught the shaman's disease.

A moment too soon, as it were. Grita walked into the manor and through the doorframe in the hallway, I saw Vis, alive and in a black valet's doublet walking awkwardly around the dining room table, trying to straighten the cloth.

I stared in incomprehension at the erstwhile stablehand until mother's voice echoed from somewhere deeper in the dining room.

"Careful with the cloth. It creases easily and took Ivian an hour to iron properly. Just gently pull on the edge so that it straightens and the cloth dropping off the edge of the table folds in an even wave."

"Yes milady."

"My lady, not milady."

Mother was looking towards us in mild surprise as she said this, not paying attention as the stablehand answered.

"Milady," Grita spoke up, evidently not caring about setting an example for the valet in training, "you can't let the child get pushed around by the dog. Pests and worms might not be passed on, but all it takes is an accident, if the dog starts treatin' him like her own."

"Sir Barker's dog? You think she has worms...?" My mother was taken aback by the midwife's warning.

"I don't know, milady, but unless you know somethin' I don't, I wouldn't count on her not havin' them either."

"Yes, you're right. Did you hear that Tilly? You can only play with Fafi when mother or Grita are with you, alright?"

I nodded dejectedly. I guess I shouldn't complain that I had concerned parents.

"I really don't want to give him castor oil.. Do you think he'll be fine?" My mother asked Grita nervously. "You aren't feeling ill, are you Tilly?"

I shook my head vigorously. I had no idea what castor oil was, but it didn't sound good. Don't jump to conclusions, mother.

"Nah, we caught them early. He should be alright, milady. Sorry for disturbin' you."

"That's quite alright, Grita. Thank you for telling me."

The rest of the day, we spent outside but far away from Mr. Barker and Fafi.

In fact, we were on the other side of the manor, my first time outside the front doors. We sat between two clipped yew trees on the groomed strip of grass between the manor and the gravel path leading off to the village.

Grita had brought the stools herself, going back to get the second after plopping me on the first outside. It wasn't a short walk, since she had to go around the garden path to the back of the manor instead of going up the round double staircase before the front door.

The second time Grita showed up, bringing a stool for herself, she also had with her a small wooden pail of water and two clean pieces of straw, probably taken from the stables.

"Look," she said, dipping the frayed end of the straw into the pail and then blowing through the other. Magically, a bubble expanded out of the straw, floating into the air in a perfect sphere.

When it finally popped and I turned my awe-filled eyes towards Grita, I saw a smug smile on her face.

"Want to try?"

"Yes!"

It was wondrous, little perfect spheres flying into the sky.

Grita raised the straw, holding it up in front of my mouth, and I blew, a single bubble expanding from the other end and then detaching and floating in the air.

I jumped off the stool and reached towards the bubble that was now too far above me. I wanted to catch it, to feel the wobbling, transparent, rainbow film. Then, just as Grita reached up a finger and popped it, my breath caught as bubbles popped into existence everywhere.

There were suddenly bubbles popping out of the grass and covering the sky in a lethargic, upside down rain.

"Hehehehe, hehe!" an uncontrolled giggle grumbled in me as I started milling about my arms trying to catch and pop the bubbles like Grita had before.

But instead of popping them, my hands went right through them, until a third and then a fourth hand an arm sprung out of me and catching and popping the bubbles in the air.

"Ah!" I cried, waving with my right hand instead of my right-right hand that I wanted to control. "No, uh," but it wouldn't listen to me, and I had to follow my phantom hands that reached out and caught the bubbles they wanted.

"Tilly, Tilly, don't be silly. Don't hurt yourself jumping around like that." Grita called me. The vision of the hands and the bubbles flickered as she caught me around the waist, but when she put me down the phantom hands came back, and started glowing in front of me.

"Don't you want to blow another one? Was it that exciting?"

I thought I heard Grita ask, but I was staring at the hands as the fingers fiddled and then a new bubble burst out of them.

Magic. I thought, I was using magic to cast bubbles, the small, perfect spheres a wonder of mana and the first few steps I could take as a mage.

"I raised my other hands, the ones that disappeared through the millions of bubbles and they overlapped with the phantom hands. I waved and wiggled and could feel the mana that was coming through my arms and bursting out of my palms as more bubbles-

"Tilly!" Grita shouted and I was assailed with a dizzy spell as the colours and bubbles disappeared from the sky. "Stop that. It's not nice."

I only just realised that I was waving my hand I had whacked Grita a few times as she tried to hold the bubble straw near my face.

What was this bubble straw anyway?

I suddenly felt confused, thinking of the bubbles and the other bubble I had blown first.

What was magic anyway?

Above us the skies were blue, around us the forests drew breath and in them animals grew. There were no more bubbles filling the air, but I could still feel that mana must be plentiful here.

"That's enough for today. Let's go back inside."

But as I looked at Grita huffed and put the straw away, I felt like something was missing or incomplete.

Here, they didn't have the conveniences and powers of the world in my memories, but instead, they blew bubbles, made soap from ashes and rode on wild beasts through the woods.

I wanted to make bubbles like the phantom arms did. I wanted to nurture mana and have it pop out of me like that. How did I do that? What secrets did the white haired people have?