Celestia counted the empty chairs again, though she already knew the number. Her teahouse had been quiet all morning. The coven was gathering somewhere else now, and she'd heard whispers about why. They needed a place that felt like theirs, not hers. A place that welcomed them in, not one that was still waiting to be ready. She found the new gathering place by following the laughter. The stone sanctuary stood at the edge of the woods, water flowing down its carved face into a clear pool below. Moss grew thick between the ancient symbols. Ferns crowded the edges. Her coven sisters sat on the smooth rocks around the pool, their feet in the water, their hands busy with herbs and thread and work that didn't need perfection to begin. One of them looked up and waved her over. Celestia stepped forward, then stopped. They hadn't been waiting for her teahouse to be ready. They'd been waiting for her to stop waiting. She walked closer and saw the altar they'd built together. White cloth, bright flowers, a candle already burning. Coins and food laid out like an offering. Not to ancestors or spirits, but to each other. To the work they were doing right now, imperfect and alive. Her teahouse had tea and careful silence. It had plants chosen for their healing properties and stars mapped on the ceiling. But it had never had this. She'd been so busy preparing the space that she'd forgotten to fill it. The elder had built the coven with her bare hands, but Celestia had been waiting for permission to do the same. She sat down on the rocks. One of her sisters pressed a sprig of rosemary into her palm. The teahouse would open differently now. Not when it was ready, but when she was. She walked back through the woods alone, past the leaf monument that marked the sanctuary's edge. Its patterns glowed faint in the afternoon light. She'd been looking for that glow in her own space, not knowing she had to create it herself. Tomorrow she would set chairs in a circle instead of rows. She would put out cups and leave them empty for others to fill. The teahouse didn't need to be perfect. It needed to be used.