I Am Inspired by Possibility

ALLY GUO

The first time Genia entered her father’s study, she knocked over a stack of battered notebooks, and her tiny sticky hands scrambled to catch them as they fell. The final time Genia entered her father’s study, a battered stack of notebooks didn’t fall, and her hands weren’t quite as small anymore.

It was almost tradition for Felix to sneeze whenever they were in the old sanctum, and this time was no different. The dainty sound flew forth periodically like a fairy, sending the open pages in front of him fluttering. If a sneeze could be seen, Genia had no doubt it would’ve sparkled in the air for a few moments before dissolving away. Felix had certainly changed over the years, but that twinkling sneeze remained eternal. “Why is there always so much dust?” he grumbled, rubbing his nose. “We clean this place every time we come. But it always goes back to being a mess.” Genia rubbed her own nose with one hand, turning a page in the book on her lap with the other. “Didn’t auntie say that’s why she doesn’t like to come up here?”

“The dust?” Felix frowned. “Hardly. The entire house would be covered in it if papa wasn’t obsessed with cleaning.” “No, not the dust. I know auntie is incapable of taking care of herself. But didn’t your mother say–about my father’s study–it’s like it knows–”

Felix gasped. “–like it knows that he’s de–” He let out an awkward cough. “–gone. So it always assumes it’s going to be abandoned whenever anyone leaves.” Genia nodded. “Obviously, auntie doesn’t know that’s the case, but… yeah.” She glanced around the sprawling space. “It really does feel that way.”

“Buildings are so strange,” Felix said, voice reverent. “They pick up too much of the magic of the people within them, so you never know how they’ll react and change.” He shook his head, trying to hold back another sneeze, but there were hints of childlike excitement bouncing within his large eyes. Genia grinned, a delighted glimmer flitting across her face. “But if normal buildings are this strange, think of what all those unexplored temples and ruins are like. There are so many places we have to investigate. Where do you think you’d want to go first? We’ll be leaving soon, so we ought to finalize some plans.”

Felix scrunched his face, as if thinking deep into the past. “Well, I’m not so sure yet… But mama and your father wrote a lot about that, didn’t they? We can look through some more of these to decide.” He gestured toward the countless journals, maps, and volumes scattered across their legs and the floor, arms whirling in large swooping motions. “It’s going to be so hard choosing just a few to take with you. I wish you could bring the whole archive on the road. There’s so much information here. It’s like the shelves never end.” The room was fairly dim, lit only by the hovering lights darting to-and-fro above them. Three wax-carved birds, melting wax collecting at the ends of their feathers but never quite dripping off, danced above them on snowy wings. Delicate flames, sparked to life by the spell Felix had cast earlier, burst from slender wicks, which protruded from where their heads should’ve been. Everyone had always told Genia that although her father had had an affinity for all living things, able to coax even the most stubborn of cats and cacti, birds had been his favorite. The avian candles he’d brought to life only seemed

to prove that partiality. As one dove swooped low over a ragged binding of her father’s sketches, Genia couldn’t help but marvel at the charcoal strokes and letters he’d printed on the torn pages. It was a cluster of ancient gnarled trees, their branches strikingly bare despite the strength and rigidity of their trunks. And scrawled all around the image was her father’s barely legible script: In the depths of the forest stands the bones of a dead god. Or perhaps “dead” isn’t the right word. Carla wasn’t sure what to make of it when I told her, but that’s what I expected. She never understands these things anyway. But when I touched that tree, I could feel it. This tree–it’s not quite dead and it’s not quite alive. But it’s very, very angry. Genia couldn’t help but grin. Felix might now know where he wanted to go first, but she certainly did. She liked learning magic as much as any of her friends did, but why repeat the same tired enchantments when there was undiscovered and unexplained magic writhing in walls and valleys humanity had barely glimpsed? Even her father’s notes, as extensive as they were, only captured a fraction of the world. After all, how much could you really learn, confined to one single place? But after ten years of climbing through the local forest, of clinging to Felix’s parents whenever they ventured beyond town, it was finally time to leave. “I can’t believe auntie is giving me all of these. I really can’t decide which ones to bring with us.” Felix looked up, finger hovering respectfully over some flowers pressed between the pages describing them. “Well, they were always technically yours. Mama was just taking care of things until you wanted them. She has her own research, anyway.” Genia found it funny that aside from their tendency to trespass through the ancient forests and sacred temples of long-forgotten gods, their parents had never seemed to have anything in common. But most of their time had been spent journeying through faraway lands, so perhaps their partnership hadn’t been so strange after all. She made a face. “I always felt like auntie deserved them more than me. She was the reason my father was able to write half of these anyway. The two of them on all their travels. Just like we’ll be doing.” She nudged Felix playfully before reaching for another map. “Haha, yeah…” Genia glanced up quickly, his tone unusually muted. His gaze was focused intensely on the journal in front of him, but they seemed dull and disconnected. “Felix?” He seemed to snap out of a daze, head jolting. “Oh, uhm, sorry! I just remembered something that was bothering me.”

He hastily turned to the next page, and before Genia could press further, his eyes brightened, the signature vibrancy returning to his face. “Look at this!” Genia leaned over, peering curiously at the sickly yellow flower splayed across the page. There was something about pale petals that seemed distinctly ill, like it was hungering for something that could give it more life. “What’s this?”

Felix puffed up in a mixture of embarrassment and pride. “Remember those weird plants Honey brought back from the south. Well, Channary and I have been experimenting with them to make a new formula. It’s for clearing enchanted disturbances in the eyes. You know the eyes are hard to work with, right?”–Genia nodded–“Because a lot of magic is concentrated there. But the flowers have this property–I think it has to do with the way they extract magical energy from pollinators–that makes them really compatible with man-made magic. It’s a little grotesque if you think about it, all those poor little beetles and bees having their life force sapped, but it works so well for healing brews.” He paused, a hand coming up to rub his neck sheepishly. “Ahh, sorry, I’m rambling again.” Genia waved her hands in front of her. “No, not at all. I love hearing you ramble. And that’s really incredible. You’re so skilled with healing magic. You really deserve all those apprenticeship offers.”

Felix brightened again, straightening up like a freshly-watered sunflower. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Genia declared firmly.

Felix almost seemed to blush, a gummy smile dawning on his face. He was still beaming when he looked back down at the volume. “It’s amazing how much knowledge there is here. We’ve been climbing up since we were kids, and we still haven’t finished looking at all the books and diagrams.” “And to think we made such a big deal sneaking into this place all those years ago,” Genia laughed. “When all we had to do was ask auntie for the key.”

Felix chuckled. “All these years later, they still haven’t fixed that dent we left in the wall.” “I hope they never do,” Genia said. “I like the reminder that we were here. It’s like we made our mark.” Like she’d made a mark in an important corner of her father’s life, even if they’d never met.

Felix seemed to sense her thoughts because he fell silent, eyes flattening over. “You know… I don’t think mama ever got over what happened to your father. She didn’t have anything to do with it, but… I think she still feels guilty for not being there.” Genia paused, hand frozen in the air from where it had been reaching for another book. She slowly pulled it back to her lap. “And I guess, I’m a little scared about you, too. You’re always running about everywhere, and I’m just… What if something happens to you?” Genia tried for a grin, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. “Well, I’ll have you there to patch me up, won’t I?” The pause lasted just a moment too long.

“Felix?”

He fiddled with his hands, a habit Genia had come to recognize. An indication that he knew what he wanted to say but not how to say it. It made Genia’s own pulse quicken in dread. “You know, I’ve always thought Black Willow was too small for you,” Felix started. “It’s a bit different here–in your father’s study, I mean–but normally, you’ve always hated being in one place. You always preferred going to the forest over attending class. And I never minded being in the classroom; it was fun, even. But hearing you talk about all the possibilities out in the world around us, it made me want to

do whatever you were going to do, too.” “But you don’t want to.” It wasn’t a question.

“But I don’t want to.” Felix swallowed. “At least not anymore.” “Uhm…” Genia rubbed her hands together awkwardly, not sure what to say. “Are you going to take an offer then? One of the apprenticeships?” “Uhh, yeah. That’s the plan.” “I thought you told me you weren’t going to take any of the apprenticeships,” Genia mumbled slowly. “I didn’t realize… uhm… I wouldn’t have been all like that if I’d known.” “No! You didn’t do anything. I… still really wanted to travel with you at first. But then, this past year, well… so much happened. And I realized, there were so many possibilities in Black Willow, too. I mean–the salve Channary and I made. It was just with one type of herb, and there’s so many herbs in the world. So I guess I just… I started to change my mind.” His eyes looked watery, the hint of tears dangling from a precipice. “I’m sorry.” “There’s nothing to say sorry about. I’m happy for you.” But she couldn’t quite make her tone sound upbeat. They sat in silence, both of them staring listlessly at the pages in front of them, not really comprehending anything. Their shadows danced glumly across the walls, distorting grotesquely in tune with the flight of the doves. Genia’s nerves prickled, her heart beating uncomfortably fast. Her entire body was tense, and she squeezed her eyes shut. The silence felt oppressive, crushing her on all sides. Prying her eyes open slightly, she could see that Felix’s hands were balled tightly into fists. “I’m gonna miss you, y’know!” she suddenly blurted. Felix jolted in surprise, but Genia pressed on, voice rising as she pointed a finger at him. “You have to always write to me! Let me know what new crazy plants and potions you’ve come up with. You’d better not forget even a single day! And I’ll write back, too.”

Felix stared at her with wide eyes before the corner of his mouth tilted upward. “Are you sure about that?” he began. “You can never remember to write to anyone. Did you forget about–” “Okay, yeah, maybe I’ll forget. But I know you won’t! So you’d better not ever miss a day.” She hesitated. “Okay, maybe if you’re sick or something, but you know what I mean!”

Felix beamed gratefully at her. “Of course. You know I will. I’ll miss you, too.” Genia nodded, heart still racing but satisfied. “I know.”

Felix dropped his gaze to the book on his lap again, still open to that sickly yellow flower. As if he was trying to hide his face. Genia felt her own smile slip, a deep tiredness seeping back into her bones. Her entire body slumped, the journal sliding off her lap. It hit the floor with a slight thud and lay there, slightly crumpled. “Hey, Genia… I’m really sorry I’m not more like you.” “What do you mean?” He was still looking down. “Uhm, just a lot of things. That I’m not as adventurous as you. Curious. Inspired–” “No, please stop.” Genia shook her head wildly. “Please don’t say that. You’re not–just because–” She took a deep breath. “It’s like you said earlier, when you were talking about healing magic. You’re inspired by all the possibilities. Just not the same possibilities I’m looking for.”

Felix opened his mouth, but Genia rushed on, not wanting him to argue back. “It’s like what Honey always says! I’m dumb, reckless. But you’re not! And that’s not a bad thing. So what if you don’t want to spend the next several years trekking through mud and avoiding traps? You’ll be finding antidotes to creepy poisons and fighting carnivorous flowers instead.

Sounds just as adventurous to me. There’s so much in the world to discover, and not all of them are found in ancient castles.”

Her breathing sounded loud in her ears, and Felix’s mouth was still agape in shock. He cleared his throat and swallowed thickly. “Uhm, thank you. Really, thank you.” He rubbed his eyes. “Really, that means a lot. Just thank you.” “Of course.” Genia reached out to lay a hand against his. “Of course.” Two shy smiles met in midair, one watery and one out of breath, but their arms curled around each other softly, and perhaps that’s what really mattered in the end. The rest of the afternoon was spent in silence, but unlike before, it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. The room felt warm, loving, like it was holding them in a tender embrace. Occasionally, one of them would pipe up, point out something interesting they’d found in the yellowed pages of a book, but other than that, they sifted through the volumes quietly, merely enjoying each other’s presence. The day drifted by gently, and as the sun fell outside and the air in the attic chilled, Genia began placing a select few papers into her bag, and Felix finally spoke again. “I’m really going to miss you,” he said, voice slightly wavering. “But I don’t think I’m going to regret my decision.” “Of course not. I don’t think I’ll regret mine either.” Genia nodded. “And I meant what I said earlier. I’m happy for you. I wish you endless fortune and great discoveries.” She swept her arm dramatically. “You’re going to do great things. I just know it.” “Thank you. You’re going to do great things, too. Just please don’t come back missing an arm. You’ve always been curious, but don’t be that curious.” “I could say the same thing to you,” Genia joked. “Don’t go trying all your brews on yourself now, or your nose might fall off one day.”

Felix grinned. “What can I say? According to you, I am inspired by possibility.” Genia returned his smile. “It’s true! And I’ll say it about myself, too. I am inspired by possibility.”