Role

Chapter 4

Mezai revealed her decision to join the Guild of Shapeshifters - one that was
notably absent in Evermoon. When questioned on it, her daughter was abnormally
soft-spoken: "Well, I want to remember all of our trips. I want to remember
the lessons you taught me. I can't learn that if I'm absorbed in books all the
time. Isn't that what you've been trying to teach me?" Merethyll laughed as
tears welled in her eyes. She explained to her daughter that she would make a
wondrous scholar - but only if that was what she truly wished. Unfazed, Mezai
pulled out another leaf of parchment and continued on with her plan. She had
penned the outline of her own research and spent nearly an hour describing it,
barely taking the time to breathe. It was, as Mezai said, an expansion of the
works she had read so far. No one had bothered to speak about what made these
places truly unique, or what the best city might look like. If home was a
place that allowed one to feel whole, free, and true, wouldn't it be important
to list out the characteristics of these places?

Merethyll could only nod. Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of Mezai's
imminent departure, and her darling daughter was too busy talking about the
'generous stipend' of the Blood Tribunal to notice. At the end of an
emotionally taxing evening, Merethyll and her daughter split a bottle of wine
and watched the stars until they fell asleep.

Only a few short weeks later, Mezai had gathered her prized books, some
clothes, and enough coin to keep her fed until she reached the Academy. She
hugged her mother tightly and cried for a brief time before promising: "I'll
write to you. You have to hear all about the taverns and Inns along the
Eastern Road. I'll make multiple trips so you know it's not just me drinking a
lot of wine. And I need to tell you my forms too! Maybe I can fly back to
Evermoon when I'm off the watch - just don't shoot me out of the sky."

With that, Mezai made her way to the back of the merchant caravan and waved
goodbye to her mother. Galadon was a week's journey, and Mezai had no
intention of watching the horses make tracks in the earth. She settled down in
the back of the wagon, cramped between bags of grain and stacks of leather,
ignoring it all in favor of her newest book. She only had three hundred pages
to go - with luck, she could finish the book by nightfall.