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When you first met Lagler, you thought he was an Unknowing—cap-less, out of uniform, and eyeing the trinkets contained in the window of a magic shop. You almost brushed him off as a curious bystander admiring the work of witches but the closer you walked, the more severe the crease between his brows became. Before you could decide whether to sate your curiosity and approach or ignore him entirely, he turned those piercing dark eyes to you.
He offered a cursory nod and smile, began to turn away until a thought visibly struck him. “Ah, excuse me. Would you happen to know who owns this shop?”
You raised a brow and turned the box you’re carrying over to rest on your hip. “I do, she’s my professor. Are you needing help with something, sir?”
“Somewhat. I’ve just moved here and wanted to introduce myself,” he said lightly. With a perfect yet relaxed posture, he turned to you and bowed low, hands cupped to his side, as if he were meeting one of the great sages. “Lagler, apprentice of Engendill.”
It clicked that he’s a witch then and, slightly embarrassed and incredibly curious, you returned the bow—gave him your name and the name of your master. “I didn’t know Engendill was accepting apprentices.”
“He wasn’t,” Lagler stated. “I suppose I’m persuasive. He only recently accepted me and I arrived only this morning. They told me I would receive my robes first thing and I came prepared for that. But…I’m much earlier than expected as you can see.”
You laughed softly before getting hit by the realization that you’re standing in the middle of the walkway. Shifting the box back into both of your hands, you asked, “Would you like to step inside? I can tell you all about our shop and a bit about the town, if you’d like.”
Lagler smiled, no less genuine than it had been before but this time brighter, wider. You found yourself grinning at his unbidden joy. “I would love to. May I help you with that?”
He motioned to the load in your hands. The response of no, you don’t have to do that, I’ve got it loaded up automatically but then Lagler was right in front of you, his hand landing right above yours. His pinky briefly brushed over your thumb then retreated a respectful distance away against the sides of the box.
“I insist,” he said, much too kind for you to deny. “You’re welcoming me into your shop. The least I can do is be of use to you.”
Your stomach flipped and he took the box from your limp hands. “Just this once.”
That smile returned and like a dream he responded, “Of course. As you say.”
Lagler returned the following week, this time dressed to the nines in his new apprentice uniform. “I thought I’d reassure you that I do, in fact, now have a cap and robes.”
He swished the fabric around, nonchalant and easy as he showed off the way the colors moved in the light. Perching your head on your hand, you pretend to assess him. “I was beginning to think you’d live your life as a witch posing as an Unknowing.”
“As was I,” he said dryly. “While I’m here, would you mind me asking a few questions?”
“Sure, what about?”
Lagler settled a hip on the counter you’re behind and crossed his arms over one another. “I’ve heard that there are some ruins nearby, of an old chapel that predates the Day of the Pact. Is this true?”
You nodded. “I’ve heard of it before. Professor Ophelia has mentioned it offhandedly. Apparently a group of brimhats once congregated there before the Knights Moralis drove them out. It’s become kind of like a tourist spot now, I guess? Half historic, half art since some of the stained glass and murals are still there.”
“I see,” Lagler said thoughtfully. “Have you been?”
“No, not yet. I haven’t gotten around to it.” You tried to keep the disappointment out of your voice.
Lagler nodded in understanding. “Could…would it be alright if I asked you to go with me? I enjoyed our time together last week.”
“Yeah,” your smile grew as you spoke. “I’d like that a lot. Would…would the day after tomorrow be alright? I have some stuff to get done around here and a professor to warn.”
Lagler nodded, mouth quirked into a smile that was reminiscent of the relief that came with returning home from a long day—easy, like it belonged there. “Perfect. That gives me ample time to get my schedule in order. Don’t be surprised if Professor Engendill forces me to show up with a pen and instructions to note anything relating to my studies.”
“Please don’t let my professor hear you—don’t give her any ideas.” You tap a finger over your lips as if to silence him.
“Noted,” he responded in good humor. “Should I meet you here the morning of?”
“Sounds perfect.”
A customer tapped at the wooden counter to get your attention. You leapt to attention—you hadn’t noticed anyone else enter the shop. Giving them a nod and apologetic look, you turned back to Lagler. “Until then?”
“Of course. I look forward to it,” Lagler said, sincere and friendly and unintentionally kicking your heart into a galloping pace.
You didn’t have the chance to force words from your tight throat before he’d swished his cape—you wondered if the drama was intentional or not—and exited with a lighter air than the one he’d entered with.
The morning arrived and your first thought upon waking was that you didn’t know what Lagler liked to eat for breakfast—or if he even liked breakfast at all. You go about your home, freshening up your robes, checking for ink stains on the sleeves or dirt along your cap’s rim, all the while going through a check list of possible Lagler breakfast favorites. (You decided that he’s definitely the type that would begin the morning with a meal.)
Maybe you should have made something…but now it was too late for that. You could simply take him to one of the stands lining the streets and investigate whether one of the vendors’ confections caught his attention. Or he could’ve already eaten.
You paused. Yeah, you’re thinking too much about it—no harm in putting in some effort, especially since he was the one who invited you. Shaking the thoughts from your head, you donned your shoes, cloak, and cap and went to your favorite vendor.
Now, with a simple breaded pastry wrapped in a cloth warming your palms, you walked to your professor’s shop. Lagler was already there—early, you suspected—stood against a corner as he studied the morning crowd.
He waved to you as soon as he caught sight of you, a sentiment that unconsciously grew a smile on your face. You waved back with an empty hand and held out your gift with the other.
Lagler took a fraction of a clock tick to reach right back out to you, cupping your hand in his palms as he lifted the pastry. “Is this…?”
“I just wanted to bring you something.” You waved suddenly empty and aimless hands around as you spoke. “You could save it as a snack for later or whatever you want really. Unless you don’t like it, then feel free to—”
Lagler’s head shifted back and forth, almost distantly, and brought the clothed bread close to his sternum. “You didn’t have to. It’s a very kind gesture that I appreciate immensely.”
His happiness made the (minor) stresses of the morning quite worth it. Pleased with yourself, you straightened your shoulders and nodded in the direction down the road. “Ready?”
“Yes of course,” Lagler stated, fully shaking from whatever trance had him moments before. “I was hoping we could walk there? Take time with the scenery and get to know the area even more. It’s also easier to talk when the wind isn’t drowning out the noise.”
Thankfully, your sylph shoes were worn in enough from working and walking the distance wouldn’t be an issue. The same couldn’t be said for Lagler however—days wouldn’t be enough to wear them in. “Will you be able to make it?”
Lagler raised a brow.
You immediately amended, “I only mean…your shoes. They’re new.” You struggled to find a better way to voice your concerns without sounding doubtful of him. Lagler, thankfully, understood you.
“I see your point,” Lagler said thoughtfully, “and I had the same train of thought. These are reliable and have seen me through many walks.” He tapped the toe against the stone as if to prove his point to you.
Then his eyes, black and sparkling and sincere, crinkled with his smile. “Your concern charms me.”
Your stomach tripped over itself and tied into multiple sloppy bows—it’s an unattractive thought; there were no other thoughts that followed though. “You’re smart enough you don’t need my fussing,” you countered, if for no other reason than just to say something.
“I like it,” he said, resounding, quite sure of himself but not unkind, never unkind. “Shall we?”
You nodded and led him through the streets, ducking through familiar shortcuts and dodging familiar faces to keep the flow of conversation uninterrupted. Just as he’d been in the shop, Lagler’s responses were intelligent, slowly said like he had all the time in the world to consider your words.
The most notable portion of the journey came on the forest path. You don’t remember what you’d said, whether the joke was intended or by coincidence, but Lagler laughed. It was not a laugh you were expecting from such a serene person—it’s one that took up every bit of space within its far reach, bubbled until it overtook the space around you and coaxed the light through the branches. Unreserved, loud, ringing in your heart like an aggressive bell long after he’d calmed. (You really wished you could remember what you said to cause that.)
The two of you arrived at the chapel ruins right before midday. You knew your excitement had to be palpable—you couldn’t stop grinning—and that was proven to be true when you glanced at Lagler from over your shoulder and found him smiling at you already.
Together, you began to explore the spacious building. Lagler asked the occasional question and you’d answered to the best of your abilities. You weren’t exactly an expert, but you knew enough to placate his curiosities. The reverse was true as well. You wondered aloud and Lagler would either explain or vow to search for an answer once he returned.
The place was well kept—as expected, you had a friend that volunteered to do maintenance when they had a spare day, you proudly told Lagler. He assessed the state of the stones and grout, eyed the plant life trying to crawl in from the cracked window sill molding.
“They’ve done a good job,” he remarked, “of maintaining as much integrity the age of this building will allow. Tell them it’s good work.”
“They’ll be very glad to hear it. Probably won’t stop bragging about it for a while.”
Lagler hummed. “Tell me more about your friends?” He requested.
You found a bench and led him over to it, running over basic information about your friends that you could think of off the top of your head. Both of you sat there for a while trading funny stories about friends of past and present.
“You sound well loved,” you told him, with a little added cheek.
“Quite a sentimental way to put it,” Lagler teased back lightly. “But yes. I like to think so. I do my best, at the very least.”
You smiled at him, hoping it didn’t come across as too fond. “I’ve not known you long but your best is…nice.”
“Nice,” he repeated with a small laugh.
“I’ll think of a different word. Give me a second.”
“No, no I think that one suits—”
“Effective?” You tried and it drew chuckles from Lagler.
“That’s certainly a new one.”
“Mm,” you nodded, “definitely original. That’s the one.”
Lagler laughed again, shorter, only half the volume as it had been earlier, but the light filtered in through a stained glass window to reach for him all the same. “I’ll take it,” he said.
A beat of comfortable silence. You observed the pricklings of a growing beard dusting along his jaw, the upturn of his thick lashes, and the shine reflecting off his brown cheeks. Unconsciously, your heart stammered, the stomach knots reappeared.
“Mind if I take up a bit more of your time? There are still some rooms left to see but if you’d rather go back, we can go,” Lagler said kindly.
You shook your head. “I want to stay for a while longer.”
‘A while’ turned out to be lengthier than either of you anticipated. Conversation with Lagler came easily and went down many paths, swirling around from topic to topic—then there’s the silence, which was equally as good, as easy.
Your trip ended with the pair of you standing before the largest mural in the chapel, spanning from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, depicting witches wearing hats of old. The main features were a king—regal, looking to the sky, arm outstretched until he was almost caressing an exaggerated star—and his witch kneeling before him. The witch was facing his king, head tilted to gaze at him, expression unseen. Behind his back, a sinsinger was amidst landing on his arm which was bowed at his waist.
It’s a beautiful painting and Lagler was clearly entranced with it. He steps forward, as if about to touch it, revenant and smiling in the evening sun pouring and streaming across him. From over his shoulder, he looked at you and smiled anew.
His gaze snatched onto the setting sun and visually came to a realization. “We should get back before it grows dark.”
“Yes, we probably should,” you said. “We could use our sylph shoes until the edge of the forest and walk the rest, if that’s alright with you?”
“Perfect,” he said, a little distracted once again.
You frowned at him. “Are you alright?”
Lagler shook his head minutely—so much so you almost didn’t see it. “Yes, quite. I…Yes, let’s get going.”
Once outside, you pressed your shoes together to complete the ring and floated right above the treeline, wind whipping through your cape. You waited until Lagler was at your side to move forward.
You hadn’t made it far when Lagler sped slightly ahead, on an angle upwards. “What are you doing up there?”
Lagler splayed his palm out to you, offering his hand for you to take. “If you’d like, you can see so much more from up here. I won’t let you fall.”
You weren’t exactly afraid of falling—that much. You had been using sylph shoes for most of your life. However, the kind glow to his dark eyes drew you to the conclusion that you could play along just this once—it wouldn’t hurt to indulge.
You took his hand and he showed you everything, everywhere. The rest was history—he became dear Lagler , then your Lagler; you became my dear, then my beloved. Wherever the wind blew, you both went together, hand in hand, grinning at the continued discoveries that your world could provide, if you were to go out and find them.