The Parts We Play

Lessons From a Great Teacher

Sofia and Jordan Hall had been together for centuries upon centuries; they'd both been alive some time longer than that. Their eldest daughter was over 900 years old now, and they had seen and done so much that little fazed them.

Still, something about hearing "Can we talk?" from a kid always manages to make a parent worry, no matter how experienced they might be, and Sofia and Jordan were no exception.

Irene sat them down, fidgeting with her hands. She took a deep breath, clearly certain they would dislike what she was about to say. That made Jordan more nervous, and Sofia determined to remain calm.

"I want to know more about the rivalry between sorcerers and wizards," Irene said.

Instantly, Sofia relaxed. That was a subject they knew well, at least, and it wasn't some major emotional dilemma- at least, not yet.

Jordan still seemed tense, but brushed it off. "It mainly traces back to Merlin," he told Irene. "One of the most ancient and powerful wizards ever to live. From his first interactions with sorcerers, he believed our innate way of channeling magic was imprecise and primitive."

"It came to a head during the reigns of Uther and Arthur Pendragon," Sofia continued. "Merlin swore himself to the Once and Future King and, to prove his loyalty and the idea wizards could be trusted, he drew a line in the sand between them and sorcerers. He lied to Uther and Arthur alike about their natures, claiming wizardry was magic mastered and civilized while sorcery was barbaric and dangerous. The division and damage he left stands to this day."

Irene blinked, thinking on this. She closed her eyes and pulled a glassy orb from her bag, containing a tiny airship that her parents instantly recognized.

"A Camelotian mageship," Jordan breathed. "Powerful, fast, responsive- and rare. Almost impossibly so. Where did you-?"

"Merlin's last surviving apprentice gifted it to me," Irene said. "He claims he's trying to repair the rift his master left behind."

Sofia and Jordan looked at each other. Her husband looked concerned and a bit angry, but Sofia, if she was being honest with herself, was relieved and excited. She had seen the suffering her family had been through for the sake of widespread hatred of magic. She was more than ready to see the internal bickering end- if only for poor Cara's sake. She'd noticed how taxing it had become for their younger daughter to handle Irene and Hisirdoux's conflicts, attempting to hide them from the Hall parents entirely.

"I think that's a good idea," Sofia said. "While I realize trust takes time, this is the first genuine effort wizards have made to fix things in a long time. If we turn him away now, we may never get another chance at peace among magekind."

Jordan frowned. "I hate how reasonable that is," he admitted, then sighed. "Be careful, Irene. Don't let him too close too quickly. Your mother is right- trust takes time. He's earned the benefit of the doubt, but not much else yet."

Irene nodded. "Of course," she said immediately. "I wasn't planning to rush in blindly."

"You wouldn't," Sofia nodded. "You've always been plenty clever and careful. I'm not worried about you."

"Speak for yourself," Jordan commented.

"I was," Sofia pointed out calmly. She looked at Irene. "By the way," she said, sitting up as she thought of something, "do you know why there are two Akiridion-looking teenagers with four arms apiece staying in the guest room?"

Irene blinked, then jerked her head back slightly. "I beg your pardon-???"

"I'll take that as a no," Sofia concluded, looking at the stairs as Cara came down. "Morning, honey. Who's in our guest room?"