All they had was a grainy photo of a dashing young wizard, his thick dark hair windblown, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Their mother went glassy-eyed and daydreamy when she talked about him, but was light on personal details and heavy on stories of exotic trips they took together. They’d had a whirlwind romance that led the young couple all over Everland, before Elspeth returned to their grandmother’s house with a baby due and a boyfriend who would disappear five years later. Elspeth kept nothing of his. Not a scrap of clothing nor a snip of hair. Not one memento of their time together existed, except for three young daughters. They were too young when he left to remember much about him. It was like being fathered by a ghost. Elspeth was a restless witch. She had a wandering soul that pulled her all over Everland, traveling and mapping every inch of the witching world, often leaving her daughters with their grandmother for weeks at a time while she ventured out, wrapped in her felt green traveling cloak and carrying a tall carved wooden staff.
