I was unable to tear my eyes away from Ms. Cyan. For a moment it felt like someone had stopped the time. I imagined a sand clock with little grains of sand frozen mid-air on their journey downwards.

As if she wasn't aware that she had spectators, she kept leaning over the flower bed. Her hands moved gently over the flowers, barely touching their colorful petals. Golden marigolds, white daisies, blue delphiniums, pink peonies, orange lilies and multicolored ranunculi basked in the warmth of the sun and, for the first time since heaven knows when, so did the pale skin on Ms. Cyan's hands.

She traced the edges of delicate flower petals, enjoying their touch on her bare skin. As much as I wanted to let her relish the sensation of touching something without the barrier of gloves, I craved to find out why all of a sudden, she was courageous enough to take them off.

"Professor Cyan," I said as I took a step towards her. "What happened?"

"Azora," she mentioned my name and looked at me with a wide smile on her face. "Come closer."

Her hands outstretched in my direction, so I did what she asked. When I came close enough, she placed her palms on my cheeks and gently stroke me.

"Professor Cyan, your hands!" I reached up to touch them.

"I don't need gloves anymore," she said. Her eyes sparkled when those words crossed her lips.

She brought her hands into my visual field. I still remembered what they used to look like. I remembered those unappealing bulged lines of red, rugose skin on the inner side of each finger.

The hands in front of me were entirely different. The redness was gone, the skin was smooth. The only reminder of the scars that used to be there were lighter lines on the inner side of the fingers.

I didn't even realize I was moved to tears until a handkerchief appeared in front of me, held by Ardea. I used it to wipe the corners of my eyes and noticed that they all came closer.

"So, what are we looking at?" Opal asked as her eyes examined our teacher's uncovered hands.

It wasn't until then that I realized none of them had seen her hands without the gloves. None of them knew what the gloves were hiding.

"Has it already started?" I asked, focusing on Ms. Cyan's face.

"Has what already started?" Opal interfered. "I still didn't get the answer to my first question, don't add another one!"

"It started, hasn't it?" I deliberately overheard Opal's last remark. My eyes never left Ms. Cyan's face. She looked back at me with her head held high and nodded.

Once again, Opal interfered. "What are you talking about? We came here to see Professor Cyan do what, caress the flowers? The gloves are gone, I noticed that. But I want to know why is that so important! And now you're asking whether it started. What? What is the 'it' you're referring to? Unless..." She paused and turned towards Ardea, her index finger accusing her. "Your father! He did something to her! That's it! Your father changed something about her hands!"

She rushed to Ms. Cyan and grabbed one of her hands. She brought it close to her eyes so she would be able to look at it closely. Her lips tightened into a thin line and a crease formed between her eyebrows as she tried to figure out what was it that Doctor Kasian did.

I stepped in, forcing her to let go of our Professor's hand. "Opal, you're being disrespectful. You can't just grab her hand, she's your teacher, not your classmate!"

She looked at Ms. Cyan and said, "I'm sorry. Azora's right. I shouldn't have been so pushy. I just want to know what's happening because I'm rooting for the plan to work."

"They were marked with scars," Professor Cyan said after she took a few moments of silence during which she thoroughly observed our dwarf.

"Scars?" Opal repeated. "Who put them there?"

"The people who brought me to land," our Professor responded. Her stare wandered off, she never looked at anyone's face when she spoke of them.

"Why?" Opal asked further.

Professor Cyan gave it a thought, but instead of answering, she just shrugged her shoulders.

"Because they didn't care for aesthetics. They only cared about survival," I repeated what she once said to me. Saying it out loud stung my heart. I looked at the faces of everyone around me only to see they were all serious. Not a trace of the former feeling of happiness.

"They could have used the results of those doctors described in that book of yours. Even if the book wasn't written yet, I'm sure they could have gotten their hands on the results. Ardea's father managed to." Once again, Opal's logic seemed to be spot on, except for one thing.

"The people who brought her to land were the doctors described in that book," I said to clarify. "Professor Cyan is the first one who survived."

"She was the first one!?" Opal's mouth refused to close. "But that means that the poor child on the picture is her!"

I nodded and added in a whisper, "Aq53."

"Oh, you poor thing!" Opal exclaimed, looking at her. "When I first saw the picture of that tortured young Aquantien, it made my heart freeze. And that was you? You poor, poor thing! Do you need a hug?" She stepped towards Professor Cyan with arms wide open.

"I think I will be fine," our Professor said in response.

"But I won't!" Opal stated and wrapped her arms around Ms. Cyan's waist. The gesture caught her by surprise. Nonetheless, she allowed her hands to fall on Opal's back.

The sight of them hugging lured a silent chuckle out of me. I glanced at Ardea and Mathias. She had a smile on her face, but his face was as serious as it had been the past few weeks.

Opal moved a step away from Ms. Cyan and said, "I got an answer to my first question, now it's time to answer the second one. When Azora asked whether it already started, was she talking about your alterations?"

Ms. Cyan looked at each of us before she gave us the answer. "Doctor Kasian is optimistic. He believes my gills will regain their functionality once he performs the necessary procedures, and I have faith in him."

It was at that moment I realized that Doctor Kasian did more than just correct some of the mistakes made by the ones who got their hands on her first.

"When?" Mathias asked.

"There are only three weeks left before the school year ends. I will be here until then," she answered.

"And then?" he wanted to know.

"Then Doctor Kasian will do what is in his power to return me to my old home."

Silence fell upon us.

Three weeks.

Three weeks until she leaves, never to return again.

"I wanna be there when it happens," I said, biting my lip.

"Me too," Opal added, standing right beside me.

"I want to be there too," Ardea said. "And I'm pretty sure we should count Mathias in as well."

My gaze landed on the werewolf. He was as pale as the skin on Ms. Cyan's hands, while his eyes were staring blankly at the ground.

Ardea stepped towards him and placed her hand on his shoulder. She breathed in a series od deep, steady breaths and somehow, Mathias' breathing synchronized with hers. He lifted his head, looked directly at Ardea's eyes and said, "I want to be there."

"I want to join too!" Someone's voice traveled to our ears.

Our heads turned as one and our stares made Nia halt the moment she stepped into the clearance.

Thank you for reading this far. The end isn't far, so stick around just a bit longer.

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