The professor for painterly magic stood in front of us, two fingers up in the air on his right hand, and gesturing as if drawing invisible brush strokes. I suppose that, for most of the class, it was invisible, but I could see where he was pulling from the Flow, the Bá, and channelling it into the air like ink. If I'd walked right up to his working, I would've seen words and other symbols that would tell me how to replicate it, the general temperature and mood of the Flow in the area, and who knew what else.

Heck, I could look inward, in that "corner of my eye" way with which I'd seen the tunnel in the Gate, and actually see and feel the Bá around us. I think this would've come to me after Midsummer if I hadn't disappeared back to Earth right away, one of the gifts of Danna. It was comforting, like embracing the life force of the world. Also slightly terrifying. We were in one of the Starweave towers that contained a school of magic run by the guild, and I could see how aether flowed around and through it in interesting ways, like the eddies bringing a fresher flow to the farm tower nearby. I still knew so little, but I knew the towers were not decorative.

I was pulled back from my wool-gathering when the effect of the teacher's spell shifted from theoretical to something everyone else could see. It was easy to pick out the moment: it started as a whisper in the chairs around me and a chorus of "ohhhh~" as he finished with a little flourish, and a globe of light hung in the air.

"All right, everyone," he said, "please study chapter five and practise your light globes. I'll see you all next week."

The room around me was simply a classroom with a nice view once again, the Flow having slipped away from my vision.

Some chatter started up around the room as my fellow classmates put away their books. In these classes especially, I always felt somehow separate and ended up holding myself aloof. I wasn't a stranger to feeling like I didn't fit in; I wasn't exactly neurotypical. But at least it was more a case of "oh hey, you're kinda weird" back at UBC, which felt like light years away. Now? I'd started making sure I didn't leave the house without long sleeves. It just brought unwanted attention.

Being a great high priestess or something sounded better than it felt, when I was the only one, and it definitely set me apart. And the worst part--

"Hey Alyx," the professor broke into my thoughts.

"Oh hey, Professor Clarmont."

"Walk and talk?" he asked. I nodded, and we set off toward his office.

After we'd cleared the crowd of the classroom, he asked, "How are things going? I imagine that it's been a tough change from your old life."

I shrugged. "I'll survive. It's been less of a change than you'd think, actually. Back in Vancouver, I was still going to a university, sitting in classes, learning how things work and how to build them. Just... mostly physical things."

"Hmm," he replied, waiting for another group of students to pass by. "Have you had any more luck connecting with her?"

Ah, right to the pain point.

"We had a close encounter of the Danna kind, back at Midsummer," I said, and the confused look on his face said everything about his understanding of my Earth joke. Oops. "Since then... nothing. I feel her, like someone sitting next to me, but that's all. 'Daughter' and 'Your turn my child, align the leys'. What does that even mean? Somehow I did it, but..."

"It'll come," he said. "Try not to worry too much. In the meantime, maybe take a short break or something, a little change of scenery? That sometimes helps to get me back on track."

The walk back from school was quiet.

Fleuve Clair was a pretty town, especially with bits of snow here and there. Cold, though... brr. The pedestrian-focused design was really cozy, and the steep mountains around the town were beautiful.

I was really trying, but I had no idea what I was doing. I felt some real imposter syndrome. The books the guild loaned me didn't have much practical info about Fí-Réalta. Outsider perspectives, sure; "normal" magic, sure; I got a strange feeling that they were holding back the good stuff. From what I'd heard, I'd probably only find the good stuff in Ard Shanaclair, where Starweaves had spent most of their time in the past.

And the voice in my head didn't seem interested in explaining more. Who knows, maybe things would pick up more when my body was more congruous to Danna's preferences?

The gender aspect of this whole strangeness had... progressed. At that point, not much remained of what might've made me male, at least visibly. The speed of it was admirable from a trans perspective. Feeling my body shifting around from day to day and becoming something else... though it was a kind of pain to feel one's hip and shoulder bones rearranging. I mean, yeah, I know - you can't even get that on Earth for transitioning, take the loss - but youch.

But what was surprising to me in many ways was actually how much didn't change. People weren't as separate as they thought. It was in a million little details that added up to something.

I put a finger up to the lock plate at the guest house, letting tendrils of aether flow into my hand and handshake with the lock's weaves just so... and it clicked open.

"I'm back!" I called into the house as I exchanged my sloppy shoes full of snow mush for a pair of indoor slippers, which I carried over the threshold to the wood floor. The warmth weaves in the floors and walls felt incredible after the long walk.

"Hello~" Síle called out from the bedroom upstairs, walking out to the walkway above.

"Oh, you're back from school too," I said, waving. I glanced at the shoe cubbies, taking attendance. "I guess when Mom and MacKenzie get back, we can start on dinner?"

"Professor Clarmont suggested finding other scenery for a few days," I said between bites at the dinner table that evening, "to shake the cobwebs out of my head over this whole Danna thing."

"Alyx, one does not shake the Goddess," Síle intoned very seriously, ruining it only at the last second with a giggle-snort.

"Might I make a suggestion?" Mom asked. "My time in Shanaclair, for now, is drawing to a close. Earth beckons me back. It would be lovely to see what's come of my old town, though."

"Saillvert?" I asked.

"A weekend, perhaps," she replied.

"What do you think, MacKenzie?" I asked her in English. "One last hurrah visiting Mom's old hometown here?"

"Wait, what?" MacKenzie asked, surprised. "Your mom's from here?"

"No, no," Mom said, sticking with English. "Goodness, no. But I spent a fair amount of time in that place, and I suppose it's a bit of an open emotional wound."

"I would go," Síle picked back up in Clair. "Though An Lien isn't exactly cheap..."

"I can get our tickets," I said. "That guild stipend went up with certain... plot developments."

That weekend, I found myself in An Lien heading toward Saillvert. It looked about like what you'd expect a shinkansen, a Japanese bullet train, to look like - large windows, plush seats in a plum-coloured fabric - but a round cross section like an airplane. The others were talking quietly between our two languages, enjoying the nearly silent trip, the motion so smooth that you could easily set a drink on a table and forget about it.

I, on the other hand, was counting the support rings holding up the tube, alternating between squeezing my eyes shut and keeping them open. The others couldn't see the immense engineering that had gone into this monster. And although I was fascinated by it, I was also oddly terrified. I shouldn't have waited so long to ride on An Lien - it might have been easier if I knew what it looked like before Starweave sight.

The Flow around us roiled like I'd never seen before; a great wake of aether waves spread out behind the train, rushing outward and causing turbulence. The tube around the train formed a sort of pressure conduit as it pulled aether in, ahead of us, and the train running through the tube pushed it to the sides, compressing it. Someone on the train was using the compressed aether to propel the train from behind, which drew in more aether on the front, and so on. It wasn't too different than a jet engine, really, which made me wonder about the Fí-Réalta who invented it.

I shuddered again: a jet engine we were inside.

But engineering interest aside, the Flow was in a somewhat terrifying state around us, and even if I tuned that out, the train was surrounded by rainbow auroras flicking by at high speed, not always staying outside the train.

No, best to just close my eyes.

"Are you all right, Alyx?" I heard Mom say in English.

I chuckled, keeping my eyes closed. "Lucky that you don't have Starweave Vision. T-M."

I opened my eyes briefly, looking around for the source of what felt like head pats. No one was there, so I closed my eyes again.

Be at ease, daughter, I heard a voice say in my mind.

Danna?? I asked her.

I felt more than heard a smile. You have yet to understand, but you will. For now, let all things happen in their time, as they do.

How do I talk with you again? I asked into that space in my mind.

But there was no answer.

A short tune played by way of... I opened my eyes and looked up. It was a weave of aether along the roof of the cabin, which vibrated to the audio - neat! Almost enough to make me forget the show outside.

"This is the Mountain Arrow, An Lien service from Fleuve Clair and points east," a person said over it, "bound for Saillvert. In five minutes, we will stop at Lavóie. Repeating, in five minutes, we will stop briefly at Lavóie. Transfer to the Star with service to Ard Shanaclair at that stop."

"It feels passing strange," Mom said in her old Clair. "All of this is so... modern. I like to believe that Lucy was part of making it."

"I don't know if she made it," Síle chimed in, "but she almost certainly worked on it."

At some point we had come out of the mountains, and An Lien was down to about ten metres above the ground, which was flashing past at an alarming rate. It was still wilderness, but relatively flat wilderness, mostly grasslands. A few minutes more, and a motley patchwork of farms began to pop up as the train banked gracefully to the left.

The short tune played again.

"Arriving at Lavóie," it said. "Lavóie."