A week passed. And then, suddenly, it was the New Year.

  Everyone left. Some went home. Some went to relatives. Some went wherever the wind blew them, just to get as far away from studying as possible.

  I went with Anna. To her family's place.

  To be precise— to her grandfather's.

  To Planus.

  The funny thing was: he was Anna's grandfather, and I was his great-great-grandfather.

  Anna knew this. Had known it for a while. Took it calmly. Without hysterics, like a normal person living in a world where magic is an everyday occurrence.

  We were walking down the road toward the teleportation point.

  "Planus is supposed to meet us on the way," Anna said. "Of course," I nodded. "He always shows up on time. Especially when he doesn't show up at all."

  I was still thinking about her.

  Anna knew how to give warmth. And it didn't feel like a spell.

  "Is that psycho-magic?" I asked. "Yes," she answered calmly. "It's called caring." "A dangerous ability." "For you—especially," she smiled.

  I took her hand.

  "Hold on."

  Pop.

  We teleported into the city.

  Anna immediately doubled over.

  "Ugh..." And she threw up.

  "Yeah," I said. "It's been a while since you teleported." "Next time..." she gasped, "give me a warning..."

  We went into a tavern. Warm. Noisy. It smelled of food, smoke, and celebration.

  We sat down to wait.

  An hour passed. Then another.

  Anna fell asleep on my shoulder. I sat there, looking out the window.

  Snow. Laughter. Life.

  Suddenly, the door flew open.

  "GREEEEEG!"

  Planus walked in.

  "You're alive," I said. "That's already a success." "And you're as pleasant as ever," he smirked. "Ready?"

  "Are you sure?" "Absolutely!" he said joyfully. "I'm finally going to see my kids. And my grandkids."

  I woke Anna up.

  "Alright, let's go."

  We joined hands.

  Pop.

  Teleport.

  ...and Planus instantly collapsed onto the floor.

  Anna threw up again.

  "Ugh..." Planus groaned. "It's been a long time since I teleported..." "Clearly," I said. "And it's your own fault, Planus, for drinking away the Ring of Translocation."

  He tried to stand up, then sat right back down.

  Anna covered her face with her hand.

  "Grandpa..." "That was a long time ago!" "Feels like yesterday," I said. "I was going through a rough patch!" Planus protested indignantly.

  I looked at them.

  A grandfather. A granddaughter. And me—somewhere between the eras.

  We stepped out onto the street.

  I recognized the house immediately.

  Old. Stone. The light inside was warm—not magical light, but human light.

  Anna walked up to the door and knocked.

  Shadows moved inside. Footsteps. Voices.

  The door opened.

  Standing before us were Anna's parents.

  The father... I blinked.

  A carbon copy of Planus. Just shorter. Slightly younger. And without that eternal "I've still got it" attitude.

  The mother was beautiful. Calm. With that specific look that instantly says: "I see a lot more than you think I do."

  "Anna!" They hugged her immediately. Questions began to fall like snow:

  "How was the trip?" "Is everything alright?" "Have you eaten?"

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  Then they saw Planus.

  Their faces... turned to ice.

  "Come in," the father said coldly.

  Just two words. No hugs. No joy.

  When their eyes fell on me, the father froze.

  He looked once. Then looked again.

  As if checking to see if I was a hallucination.

  Anna already opened her mouth:

  "This is Greg, he's..."

  "We're in the same class," I said quickly. "And all that."

  Anna looked at me in surprise, but stayed quiet.

  The father frowned.

  "Strange..." he said slowly. "I feel like I've seen you somewhere before."

  I shrugged.

  "I often have that effect on people."

  He narrowed his eyes.

  There was something old in his gaze. Ancient.

  He had seen me. When he was a child.

  But he didn't know that.

  "Come on in," the mother said.

  We walked inside.

  The house was warm. Alive. Smelling of food and memories.

  I took off my cloak.

  And suddenly thought:

  How many times have I stood exactly like this... in strangers' houses... under false names...

  Anna looked at me and lightly touched my arm.

  The warmth returned.

  Not magic. Just... a reminder that I was here.

  "Happy New Year," she said quietly.

  "Yeah," I replied. "Happy New Year."

  "Um..." Anna's father looked at me again. "Your eyes... they are very strange."

  "It happens," I shrugged. "Today one is black, the other is green."

  He wanted to say something else, but didn't get the chance.

  Planus couldn't hold it in anymore.

  He suddenly stepped forward and hugged his son.

  Tightly. Genuinely.

  "Come on now, son," he said thickly. "Stop frowning."

  His son froze at first. Then tried to pull away.

  "Let go," he said. "Just... leave."

  "I did leave," Planus answered quickly. "But I had a valid reason!" "A valid reason?!" his voice cracked. "Do you have any idea how worried we were about you?!"

  He shoved his father away.

  "You could have at least sent a letter!" he continued. "Even just a word! We thought you were dead!"

  Planus opened his mouth... and closed it.

  And then he just started crying.

  Not beautifully. Not theatrically.

  Genuinely.

  Anna's mother stepped closer. Her eyes were wet too.

  "We waited every year," she said quietly. "Every holiday."

  I stood off to the side, thinking:

  Yeah... Family drama is universal. Even across generations.

  Anna watched them, her hands clenched.

  Then her mother abruptly wiped her tears, straightened up, and said, almost sternly:

  "Right. That's enough." "But..." the father started. "I said—that's enough."

  She turned to us.

  "I've set the table." "Yeah," Anna nodded. "Sit down," she repeated. "You can sort this out later. Not today."

  We sat down.

  The smell of food filled the room. Warm. Homey.

  I looked at Planus. Then at his son. Then at Anna.

  Sometimes people don't lose each other. They just stay quiet for far too long.

  I picked up my spoon.

  "Happy New Year," I said.

  They looked at each other.

  "Happy New Year," they replied.

  And this time, it sounded... slightly less painful.

  Anna's father, Georg, spent the rest of the day making my life difficult.

  We had barely sat down at the table— and it began.

  "So... Greg," he said, serving me some food. "Where are you from?" "From the place where conversations usually end," I replied. "Very specific," he nodded. "What about your parents?" "I had them. Then... they stopped being relevant."

  Anna snorted.

  "He talks like this to everyone, Dad." "I noticed," the father replied. "And I don't like it."

  Planus immediately jumped in.

  "Oh, he's always been this mysterious!" he said with a full mouth. "He was exactly like this as a kid too."

  I slowly turned my head toward him.

  "In which childhood exactly, Planus?" "Well..." he thought about it. "In one of them."

  Anna started laughing.

  "See?" she told her father. "He's normal. Just weird." "Those are two different things," he grumbled.

  "And how old are you?" the father pressed on. "As of today?" "Excuse me?" "It changes sometimes," I shrugged.

  Planus coughed violently.

  "Greg, don't terrify people on a holiday." "I'm trying to be gentle."

  Anna leaned in close to me:

  "If you say something completely creepy right now, I'm going to kick you under the table." "Is that a threat or a promise?" "It's motivation."

  The father sighed, but a faint smile broke through.

  "Alright," he said. "Last question." I tensed up. "Are you happy?"

  The table went quiet.

  I looked down at my plate. Then at Anna. Then at Planus.

  "Today?" I asked. "Today," he nodded.

  I thought about it.

  "I don't know," I said. "But... it's warm."

  Anna smiled in satisfaction.

  "See!" she said. "I told you."

  Planus raised his glass.

  "To the New Year!" "To those who actually showed up," the mother added. "And to those who ask way too many questions," Anna said.

  I raised my glass.

  "And I..." I said. "Drink to sometimes not knowing the answers."

  They laughed.

  And for the first time in a very long time... I didn't feel like a stranger.

  Anna's father, however, had clearly decided that if I was sitting at his table, I wasn't leaving without a full interrogation.

  "Alright," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Greg. Let's start over." "I'm already terrified." "Don't interrupt your elders." "I'm trying to figure out who the elder actually is here."

  Anna snorted. Planus chuckled far too loudly.

  "What do you do in your free time?" the father continued. "I think." "That's not a hobby." "My mistake. It's a bad habit."

  "He's really like this," Anna said. "I've checked." "I'm still hoping he's just pretending," the father sighed.

  "Fine. Studies. Do you take the Academy seriously?" "Exactly as seriously as it takes me." "And how is that?" "Sometimes it tries to drown me."

  Planus choked on his drink.

  "Is that a metaphor?" "Unfortunately, no."

  Anna elbowed me under the table.

  "Stop scaring my dad." "He asked."

  "Are you planning to become a mage?" "I already am one." "Professionally," the father clarified. "Then no." "Why?" "Too much paperwork."

  Planus raised a finger:

  "I used to say the exact same thing!" "And that is exactly why you are sitting here," his wife noted dryly.

  Anna laughed out loud.

  "Do you have any plans for the future?" the father persisted. "I do." "Such as?" "Survive until tomorrow."

  A heavy pause hung over the table.

  "Is that... a joke?" he asked cautiously. "Partially."

  Anna leaned toward me again:

  "If you drift off into philosophy again right now, I am not saving you." "I'm not drowning," I replied. "I'm swimming."

  "Are you even afraid of anything?" the father asked. "Yes." "Of what?" "Being asked 'why'."

  Planus roared with laughter.

  "I recognize the breed!" "Be quiet," his wife told him.

  The father sighed, but there was a distinct smile in his eyes now.

  "Alright, one last question. An honest one." I tensed up again. "Are you... planning to break my daughter's heart?"

  Anna dropped her fork.

  "DAD!" "I'm just asking!" "At the dinner table?!" "It's the most appropriate place!"

  I held up my hands in surrender.

  "Relax. I wasn't planning on it." "You weren't planning on it?" he repeated. "Yeah. Usually, those things happen without a plan."

  Anna turned bright red.

  "You are not helping right now!" "I'm trying to be honest."

  Planus leaned over to me:

  "Greg, just so you know..." "Know what?" "If you ever hurt her—I won't do a thing to you." "Thanks." "She'll do it for me."

  Anna nodded firmly.

  "With pleasure."

  The father looked at us. For a long time. Then he started to laugh.

  "Alright," he said. "You're weird." "I get that a lot." "But, it seems like... you aren't lying."

  I shrugged.

  "I'm just answering the questions."

  He raised his glass.

  "To honest men. Even if they are inconvenient."

  We clinked glasses.

  I took a sip and thought:

  If I'm being interrogated with this much interest... then maybe I'm not existing for nothing after all.

  Suddenly, I started laughing.

  Quietly at first. Then louder.

  "If you only knew," I said, "that I am actually... your great-grandfather or something..." "Greg," Anna said quickly. "Especially the questions about Anna," I added. "That's an entirely different level of irony."

  Georg frowned deeply.

  "What on earth are you talking about?"