Verse 29 - The purpose of sending this chosen messenger:

God says:

"That he may make evident that they indeed have conveyed the Messages of their Lord. He has encompassed what is with them and He enumerated all things in number.” (The Quran 72:29)

The verse uses the past tense verb "أَحَاطَ" (aḥāṭa) which means "encompassed" or "surrounded." The verb "لَدَيْهِمْ" (ladayhim) involves possession and is not bound by tense in the same way verbs are. So an accurate interpretation would be that God has encompassed what is with them, meaning what is with this chosen messenger and his time (i.e. the Quran), or that God has encompassed (past tense) what was with them (past tense), meaning the prophet and his companions. It can refer to a present or ongoing state resulting from a past action but the "he may make clear" refers to a future event, which indeed makes this a prophecy. Either way, Rashad fully fulfilled it all. This is exactly what transpired. The verse continues:

"And He enumerated all things in number."

The preservation and guarding of the Quran was done by way of numerical patterns/codes embedded within the Quran, God enumerated everything in numbers.

Answering the weak claims of liars, doubters and rejecters:

I will quickly go over a couple claims that I found online and refute them. I will only answer claims I personally think are response worthy. The rest are not even worth the time.

Claim: "Rashad's overall message was unlike that of other prophets/messengers":

This is totally false, because he eradicated prevalent Shirk, the same Shirk that still to this day continues to "flourish" amongst traditionalists.
God says in the Quran, interestingly in the same chapter that we discussed above (i.e. Chapter 72, The Jinn):

"And the mosques are for God, so do not call upon anyone with God." (The Quran 72:18)

The traditionalists are all invoking the prophet, in the same manner they are invoking God. They are all (and I mean literally all of them) saying during their 5 daily prayers:

'as-salaamu 'alaika ayyuha n-nabiyyu' (Peace be on you, O Prophet!)

This is literally an invocation directed to an entity other than God, namely prophet Muhammad. Rashad came and eradicated this Shirk from the Muslim community, but traditionalists remain in their worship of the prophet and refuse to be reminded and reformed.
The real question should be; why would an imposter (who hypothetically was inspired by Satan) want to eradicate prevalent Shirk from the Muslim Ummah?

Claim: "All messengers were prophets, therefor there's a seal on messengership as well!"

And when we ask them: why? They indirectly answer: "Because we say so!" and expect us to just take their words for it.
There's literally nothing behind this erroneous analogy of theirs that supports it. They are literally just claiming that God is bound by a rule. They are literally just inventing and fabricating rules they expect God to submit to.
God says:

“but he is the Messenger of God and the seal (i.e. end) of the Prophets” (The Quran 33:40)

They quote this verse and use it as some sort of evidence while this very verse is the exact opposite, it is against them, but they are rendered incapable of perceiving it.
Messengers are not prophets by default, they are just messengers, whereas prophets are individuals who receive prophecies from God that they convey to people, which makes them messengers as well. This is the linguistic definition of these words. It's baffling how this understanding has been reversed by traditionalists, with the claim that messengers are both prophets and messengers, while prophets are merely prophets. This claim is totally baseless and makes no sense at all.
God has not defined these words in the Quran in any specific way because the Quran is not a dictionary or lexicon; the definitions of the words are something we should naturally understand. Just as we naturally should know where Mecca is located or where the former Qibla was located. Both messengers and prophets are sent by God with a revelation (Scriptures or not) and with Clear Signs, whilst calling for submission and the worship of God alone. Prophets, in addition to all of that, also receive prophecies, foretelling the future, which is why they are called 'prophets.'
Rashad was a messenger of God, not a prophet. He didn't receive a new prophecy because the knowledge of the timing of the Hour was already present with us embedded within the Quran. He was only guided by Gabriel and shown how to uncover it. Prophet Muhammad is the one who received this prophecy originally, but it was obscured from everyone (including prophet Muhammad), hence why he was directed to say:

"Say, 'I do not know whether that which you are promised is near, or if my Lord has appointed for it a distant term. [God is] the Knower of the Unseen, and He reveals unto none His unseen, except who He has chosen of a messenger..." (The Quran 72:25-27)

God states:

"And We did not send before you except men to whom We revealed. So ask the people of the scripture if you do not know, with the clear proofs and the Scriptures. And We sent down to you the Reminder so that it may make clear to the people what has been sent down to them, and perhaps they may reflect." (The Quran 16:42-43)

Everyone that was sent by God had some sort of revelation, whether it was by way of Scriptures and Clear Signs. There's no specific thing distinguishing the two (except for the linguistic distinction I mentioned here above).
It is only their fallacious analogy, that's all. It is based on a passage from the Quran saying; prophets ruled according to Moses Law, the Torah, therefor, a messenger is someone who brings a new Law. Did they forget that Jesus was a messenger and a prophet and he didn't abrogate the Torah?:

"[The Day] when God will say, 'O Jesus, Son of Mary, remember My favor upon you and upon your mother when I supported you with the Pure Spirit and you spoke to the people in the cradle and in maturity; and when I taught you writing and wisdom and the Torah and the Gospel." (The Quran 5:110)

Do you see how fallacious their reasoning actually is? Disregard their weak arguments; it is all weak in my eyes and should be equally so in yours too. God says:

"And We do not send the messengers except as bringers of good tidings and warners. So whoever believes and REFORMS - there will be no fear concerning them, nor will they grieve." (6:48)

Messengers are bringers of good tidings and they serve as warners, and their purpose is to make us believe and to reform us (by the Will and Grace of God). Messengers are also described with revelations of the Book and the Balance (which literally has to do with "Laws"):

"We sent aforetime our messengers with clear signs and sent down with them the Book and the Balance, that people may stand forth in justice; and We sent down Iron, in which is strong material, as well as many benefits for mankind, that God may test who it is that will help, unseen, Him and His messengers: For God is full of strength, exalted in might." (The Quran 57:25)

Prophets are also specifically described as being sent with Scriptures so they can "judge between people":

"Mankind was [of] one religion [i.e. before their deviation]; then God sent the prophets as bringers of good tidings and warners and sent down with them the Scripture in truth to judge between the people concerning that in which they differed." (The Quran 2:213)

Both are described as being sent with revelations containing Laws.

The Sunni definition of "prophet" is derived from the founders of Sunnism, the ancient rabbis:

From a Sunni/Salafi Fatwa:

"The well-known difference between a Prophet and a Messenger is that a Messenger is one to whom a law is revealed and he is commanded to convey it, whilst a Prophet is one to whom a law is revealed but he is not commanded to convey it. But this distinction is not free of problems, because a Prophet is also commanded to call people, convey the Message and judge among the people."

Source
That it is possible for a prophet to receive revelations from God and suppress them and not convey them to the people, is nothing but a copy/paste from ancient rabbinic literature. The Sunnis got this from the rabbis of old (Maimonides, to be exact):

"But with regard to one who suppresses his prophecy because he does not want to share it with the public, and one who contemptuously forgoes the statement of a prophet and refuses to heed it, and a prophet who violated his own statement and failed to perform that which he was commanded to do, his death is at the hand of Heaven, as it is stated: “And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall not hearken unto My words that he shall speak in My name, I will exact it of him” (Deuteronomy 18:19)."

Source: Sanhedrin 89a - 8.
Two points to consider:

1. Why would God reveal something to someone and not command him to convey it to the people? Why are they attributing this sheer stupidity to God?
2. To claim that God would reveal something to someone with the purpose of conveying it to others while simultaneously allowing him the free will to choose whether he wants to convey it or not, and if we hypothetically say that this is the case, then if a prophet were to actually not convey the revelation, then this would imply that God doesn't know the future or that He randomly sends Revelations to people and hopes they will convey it to others. Either way, this is a stupidity God is far above.

To refute both of these points, we have to look no further than the Quran itself:
God says:

"O Messenger, convey that which has been revealed to you from your Lord, for if you do not, then you have not conveyed His message. And God will protect you from the people. Indeed, God does not guide the disbelieving people." (The Quran 5:67)

And,

"Indeed, those who conceal what We sent down of clear proofs and guidance after We made it clear for the people in the Scripture - those are cursed by God and cursed by those who curse." (The Quran 2:159)

Hiding what God sends down is only done by cursed individuals, to claim that God would send revelations to cursed people stems from nothing other than ancient Rabbinism*.
^\Rabbinism: Rabbinic Judaism has been the mainstream form of Judaism since the 6th century CE, after the codification of the Babylonian Talmud, and also "coincidentally" after the advent of the Quran.)
The phrase: "for if you do not, then you have not conveyed His message" - implies that the purpose of the revelation is to convey it to others. It implies that it is expected of him.

The two deleted verses:

It is interesting to note that there's only 2 extra verses, because matching the mastery of the Quran with more than 2 verses is impossible. It's impossible to mimic the Quran with more than 2 verses without making mumbo jumbo phrases and sentences that make no sense. The shortest chapter in the Quran is made up of 3 verses, nobody has ever brought 3 verses that match the Quran.
If you think it is to deny the Quran if one were to believe that 9:128-129 are added verses, not belonging to it, then you would also believe that 'Ali disbelieved, according to historical accounts. This is recorded in the history books of Sunni scholars themselves.
We find in Kitab al-Masahif by Ibn Abu Dawud, where he suggests that Umar ibn Al-Khattab considered adding verses 128 and 129 to a separate Surah if they had been three verses instead of two, indicating some recognition of their contentious nature during the compilation of the Quran. It is also mentioned that Zaid bin Thabit found these two verses with only one scribe, namely with Khuzaima ibn Thabit. A whooping 65 scribes to the disposal of prophet Muhammad, and only one had these two verses written down. They still included them, which was unusual given the strict criteria for including verses based on multiple witnesses (Source: Ibn Abu Dawud, Kitab al-Masahif; Al-Suyuti, Al-Itqan fi Ulum al-Quran).
In As-Suyuti's Al-Itqan fi Ulum al-Quran, we read that Ali ibn Abi Talib expressed concerns about additions to the Quran. According to a narration by Muhammad ibn Sirin from Ikrima, Ali refrained from pledging allegiance to Abu Bakr because he believed that something had been added to the Book of God, indicating his suspicion regarding the integrity of certain verses (Source: Al-Suyuti, Al-Itqan fi Ulum al-Quran).
Do you also consider 'Ali to have apostatized? If not, then why would we be? Especially considering the fact that we now even have substantial evidence that two additional verses were added and that precisely these two verses, the verses that always have been shrouded in doubt, that they ruin the 19 code. But when omitted, the code remains in tact.

The verse saying "No falsehood approaches it":

The traditional translation of this verse is:

"Falsehood does not approach it from before or behind; it is a Revelation from the Wise, the Praiseworthy." (The Quran 41:42)

This above is a deviation from the Arabic grammar of the words and the Arabic idiom being used. Let's go through each word, but before doing that, we need to read a few verses before this verse so we get some context:

40: "Indeed, those who are deviating concerning our Âyât (Signs/Verses) are not concealed from Us. Is he who is cast into the Fire better off, or is it the one who safely comes forth on the Day of Resurrection? Go ahead and do whatever you wish. Indeed, He is Seeing of whatever you do."
41: "[these are] indeed those who disbelieved in the Reminder after it came to them. And indeed, it is surely a Mighty Book."
42: "Falsehood does not come to it, neither from its past nor from its future. It is a Revelation from One who is Wise, Praiseworthy."

The phrase: "بَيْنِ يَدَيْهِ" (From its past): Literally: "Between his hands" - As I have already explained earlier in this post, this is an idiom which all traditional translators seem to be totally ignorant about. It simply means "his past" or "before him (i.e. his time)."
The phrase: "وَلَا مِنْ خَلْفِهِۦ" (nor from its future): Literally: "And not from after him/it" - The word "Khalfihi" can mean "Behind it" and it can mean "After it." Because the idiom "Bayni yadayhi" precedes it and means "Its past," and has to do with time, therefor "Khalfihi" likewise is about time and should be translated as "its future." The word "Khalaf" is the opposite of the word "Salaf," which is generally taken to mean "predecessors" while "Khalaf" is the opposite, "successors." It is about the past and the successive future.
God is ensuring us that the Quran is immune to falsehood and cannot be corrupted,even if attempts are made to alter it with lies and fabrications. How can this be best demonstrated and proven true? Through a numerical code that preserves every aspect of the text. If a single letter is added or removed, the code fails. This is exactly what Rashad Khalifa discovered during his lifetime. In other words, even if intentional attempts are made to distort the Quran, they will fail because there is a safeguard in place. This verse does not state that people cannot attempt to distort the Quran; anyone can distort its contents (even you or I can do it right now at this current moment). Rather, it means that falsehood cannot successfully infiltrate it at any time and be forever being considered to be the original Quran, thereby ensuring its preservation.
To claim that this verse is implying that nobody ever will be able to distort the Quran and remove or add from it, then you would also essentially be saying that Rashad Khalifa disproved the truthfulness of the Quran because he did just that, he removed two verses from it and millions of Muslims are reading his Quran and fully believe the Quran was distorted while it wasn't (hypothetically).
Another interpretation of this verse (that is fully valid and plausible) is that God is talking about the time during which it is being revealed and written down by scribes. Because the verse ends saying "...It is a Revelation from One who is Wise, Praiseworthy." In other words;

"Falsehood does not come to it neither in its past nor its future, (because) it is a Revelation from a Wise One..."

I.e. It is not falsehood that is being revealed, neither in its past nor will there be any revealed in its future, because it is all from God. The last phrase is what makes this the most likely accurate interpretation.

Weird Sunni translation of this verse exposes their ignorance and thus also their mistranslation of 72:28:

This very verse uses the exact same idiom that 72:28 contains. The "Between his hands" one. This is how traditionalists translate it in this verse (i.e. 41:42):

It cannot be proven false from any angle...
— Dr. Mustafa Khattab, The Clear Quran
Falsehood cannot approach it from before it or from behind it...
— Saheeh International
that cannot be approached by falsehood, neither from its front, nor from its behind...
— T. Usmani
which falsehood cannot touch from any angle...
— M.A.S. Abdel Haleem
Falsehood may not enter it from the front or from the rear...
— A. Maududi (Tafhim commentary)
Falsehood cannot come at it from before it or from behind it...
— M. Pickthall
No falsehood can approach it from before or behind it...
— A. Yusuf Ali
Falsehood cannot come to it from before it or behind it...
— Al-Hilali & Khan

The rendering: "From any angle" is a complete mistranslation because that is not what the Arabic verse says.
The rendering: "its front nor from behind it" - What does this even mean? Does the Quran have front doors and back doors? It is not even an idiom in Arabic, let alone English. These translators just assumed that this is an idiom in both Arabic and English, while the literal translation makes very little sense in both Arabic and English. How would someone come to the Quran with falsehood behind it?
Does it mean "from the frontside" of its cover? And the "backside" of its cover as well? The Quran was not even in book form at that particular time when this verse was revealed, so how is that explained? The fact of the matter is that they have failed to understand this idiom, which is why they also mistranslated the verse where Rashad Khalifa is prophesied:

"Except who He has chosen of a messenger, for indeed he will follow a path from before him (i.e. before his time), and after him will be a (guarding) monitoring."

The same idiom is used in this verse. I see this as a significant sign from our Lord. It seems He used this idiom in these two verses specifically for this very reason, to show that they are ignorant of the Quran's language, its idioms, and that they completely disregard its grammar and structure of the verses and etc. This is why they end up with these awkward phrases like, "Falsehood may not enter it from the front or from the rear," and "Falsehood cannot come at it from before it or from behind it," among others, which we won't delve into any further. Not only is the English grammar appalling, but these statements are also meaningless in English. They pay no attention to this and have likely confused people by the masses.

The only person to claim messengership that has been assassinated is Rashad Khalifa:

It is very notable that, out of all people who ever have claimed messengership (or prophethood), Rashad is the only one who was assassinated. This also speaks volumes. Sure, Sunni Hadiths speak about a few who claimed prophethood and were consequently executed, but we all know how truthful and accurate Sunni Hadiths are.
This is just an interesting tidbit, it speaks volumes to me personally.

Conclusion:

Wasn't everything in Chapter 72 exactly what Rashad Khalifa experienced and accomplished? It undoubtedly was, and it is impossible to deny. Knowing this, a rejector will certainly be called to account and questioned on Judgement Day as to why he rejected and denied something God made confirmable and undeniable.
God has made it evident that the Hadiths are nothing but fabrications and He has made it evident that they even tempered with the Quran. If you keep on believing that the Quran Sunnis uphold is fully from God, you are literally dooming yourself and transgressing against God because He has revealed means for us that enables us to confirm Rashad's claims. You are part of the problem. What is the difference between you and a Kâfir (disbeliever) of the past such as those who opposed prophet Muhammad? Nothing at all. So fear God and submit to Him fully.
I urge you, O Muslims, to fear God! O people, fear God, because denying a messenger of God renders you an apostate or a Kâfir (a rejector who covers the truth after knowing it). You have no right to deny Rashad Khalifa. God did not send a messenger and allowed you to keep living your life doubting him or totally disregarding him. Imagine if the early Muslims behaved like that? Do you think God would have been pleased with them? All the excuses I have found online are very weak and based on flawed analogies and fallacious reasonings, such as "God said that every messenger was sent to people who spoke his mother tongue, therefore, Rashad must be a fake messenger." And these people actually believe this will be a plausible excuse on the Day of Judgement🤦‍♂️.
Fear God, O believers, and submit to Him fully! You have been shown the truth, and it is now upon you to testify it. How you do that is your decision to make.
Another major excuse people use is that Rashad supposedly claimed that his Quran translation was divinely inspired/guided, and this is nothing but a lie. Nowhere has he claimed this (as far as I know). There are interviews on YouTube where you can clearly hear him saying that he made a personal promise to God in a supplication that he would not move past a word (while translating) until he fully understood its definition. This does not mean "My translation was guided/inspired by God Himself."
Remember this Statement God made concerning those who are rendered incapable of seeing His Signs:

"I will turn away from My Âyât [i.e. Signs/Verses] those who are arrogant in the earth without right. And if they see every Sign, they will not believe in it, and if they see the path of right guidance, they will not adopt it as a path, and if they see the path of misguidance, they will adopt it as a path. That is because they denied Our Âyât (Signs/Verses) and were heedless of them." (The Quran 7:146)

With this, I end this article, and may God open your hearts to Truth and guide us all and keep us steadfast upon His Straight Path until we die, âmîn.
/ By your brother, Exion.

TITLE CORRECTION: TWOW Prologue Theory and Fan-Fic, 2 of 4

It is one full chapter, but because it is so long, I broke into four parts.
This is a theory for the actual Prologue of The Winds of Winter. Please enjoy. This is Part 2 of 4.
The Winds of Winter
Prologue
[Part 1]
My king. The sad memories faded into blurred flashbacks.
Olyvar cherished the sweet time as his grace’s squire. Though two years older, it made no matter. A warrior king was training Olyvar the way of knighthood, almost any boy’s dream. He remembered on slow days, Robb Stark would spend time with him, teaching the art of the long sword and shield. He can still remember the cloudy day at the Crag’s courtyard and his Northern accent as he swung his blade at the squire. “Keep your shield up Olyvar. Keep it up.”
“It’s too heavy.” Olyvar replied as Robb swung on.
“If it wasn’t heavy, it wouldn’t stop a sword. So get it up.”
They sparred and sparred in the courtyard. Robb Stark was dancing with him, hilts in hands. After he knocked Olyvar to the dirt for the twentieth time, he lifted him back up.
“Come, drive at me.” Robb then grabbed Olyvar gently by the back of his neck. “Look Olly, keep your shield up or I’ll ring your head like a bell.”
Olyvar never forgot that moment, his Grace’s right-hand touch, the way Robb looked into his eyes and called him ‘Olly’. No one has ever called him that and he liked it very much. They continued to dance. Rain began to fall, turning dirt into mud. Olyvar darted at him. Robb stepped aside, deflecting the stab off his shield and twirled around forward in a natural motion, his cloak spinning in the air. Before Olyvar knew it, Robb had his rear, his sword ready to thrust or slash any part of him. He glanced back and knew he was lost. The dance paused there and Olyvar turned around to meet Robb’s beautiful blue eyes. He could melt in them.
“You had me your Grace.”
“Come Olly, it’s your turn.” A winter wind came blowing in from across the sea. A breeze lingered there, brushed Robb’s auburn hair. “Now, dance with me!”
It almost felt like a sin to be as excited as Olly was at that moment.
“I’ll drive to you now. Try to do what I just did. In mud like this, don’t forget to plant your foot before each movement. And remember, you have to keep your shield up.”
As Olyvar and Robb got into their positions, his older half-nephew Ser Ryman Frey suddenly appeared and intervened. He grabbed Olyvar like a little green boy and pulled him towards the exit. NO! Olyvar’s word caught in his mouth.
Robb spoke up for him. “What are you doing? Olyvar is my squire and a grown man. He can do what he wants and speaks for himself.”
“My grandfather has declared a suspension of your alliance with House Frey,” Ryman said. “You have broken a sacred vow. If you would not have his daughter or granddaughter as your queen, you certainly cannot have his son as your squire.”
Robb was expecting Olyvar to say something, but the squire froze. More Frey guardsmen came in and dragged him away from the courtyard, his heels lifeless on the ground, leaving twin mud tracks on his departure. Robb stared at him sweet, sad, and silent. A bolt of lightning flashed across the rainy skies, its reflection off the King’s sword blinding Olyvar. That was the last time he saw Robb alive.
When news of his King returning to the Twins for the wedding between Lord Edmure Tully and his sister Roslin, Olyvar could not contain his excitement, to hear the voice of his call.
Since that rainy courtyard day, Olyvar had been on his own for long enough. He hoped maybe Robb could show him again that dance that he loved. Maybe. Olyvar had been going through withdrawals. Not seeing his Grace was just too much. He could turn me on with the slightest touch. But since the Red Wedding, Olyvar’s courtyard has been cold and empty. F\ck anyone who judges me. He couldn’t see clearly now that Robb was forever gone. Olyvar was still blinded by Robb’s last light. He couldn’t sleep, still yearning for his touch. In his heart, rain constantly fell, drowning him in the nights. I was his squire, Olyvar cried as his soul twisted. And I failed him. I was the only one that night he could trust.*
After the slaughter, Merrett Frey, a kin of his, greeted him as he released Olyvar from the dungeons. “I’m sorry Olyvar that we had to lock you up, Perwyn and Alesander too. But you must do your duty for your family. You are a Frey, a man of an honorable house. This stain left by Robb Stark and his b*tch mother Catelyn Tully should not go unpunished. Lady Catelyn also killed Jinglebells. She even japed ‘a son for a son*‘* to our Lord father as she slit his throat.”
A son for a son. Olyvar Frey looked at Merrett sullenly, his voice choking up, “I must go for a walk.” Olyvar walked and walked … passing the burnt tents, passing the dead soldiers with Northern and Riverland sigils sewn on their garments, and passing Grey Wind’s headless body. He was far enough from home, but he could still hear the cheap cheers of the Frey and Bolton soldiers.
He fell to his knees and began to cry. My king. My sweet king. Olyvar swore vengeance. Though he will never consider kinslaying as it was a curse among the gods, it would not stop him from facilitating others who seek revenge against his own family, the ones who were directly involved.
Suddenly at the side of the river, a dying man was crawling towards him. Soaked in water, mud and blood, he cried out in a ghastly voice “Olyvar!”
“Who, who are you?” Olyvar sprinted to aid and for recognition. “Raynald?” Without hesitation Olyvar replied, “My brother!” He placed himself under Raynald’s shoulder and lifted him up. “We need to find a maester.”
On the way back to camp, Olyvar and Raynald encountered two sentries of his Frey household guards, far from any other eyes can see.
“So what do you have here my Lord Olyvar?” one asked.
“A dying lone wolf? Let us put him out of his misery,” the other replied as they stared at Ser Raynald Westerling’s dampened seashell surcoat.
Olyvar lowered himself and laid Ser Raynald on the ground, and arose in a tone cold as stone. “No. Not a lone wolf.”
Olyvar unsheathed his sword and killed both Frey guards before they could reach their weapons. He then swapped Raynald’s wet Westerling clothing for one of the dead men, and found a maester.
Ser Raynald Westerling stayed with Olyvar at the Twins under disguise. He even trimmed off his brushy moustache. Weeks later after Ray had fully healed, he asked Olyvar to go with him to look for Maege Mormont and Galbart Glover at their secret hideout, as per the original plan before the wedding.
One night, Olyvar Frey simply walked out of the Twins again, this time with Ray. No one would care where Olyvar was going. Truth be told, his Frey family would be more content if more spawnlings of their lord father would leave the castle to find their own destiny, especially if they were unlikely heirs deep behind the line of succession.
Aboard one of the Northern galleys floating outside of Seagard, the Seashell Knight had to explain how this son of Walder Frey earned his trust, as Lady Mormont held Olyvar by the throat with a dagger. The skin around her eyes had been raked and blackened with tears and nails, her teeth bit with furious anger. She had been like this for weeks. Olyvar stared at her face and he felt like he could die here and now, if that was what it meant for Lady Mormont to forgive him, as he knows no gold would ever substitute for her grief. “I am sorry about your daughter Dacey. I lost my brother too. Benfred was a good man, I swear to you by all the gods old and new, that he did not have a part in the slaughter. Benfred would have done everything he could to grab an innocent woman like Dacey, and bring her safe from harm.” Olyvar meant it.
Mormont sheathed her dagger, her hands still shaking. “I’ll kill them all! Anyone who was a part of this!”
“No.” Olyvar replied. “We have to get the girls back. And then you can kill them all.”
At the siege of Riverrun, Olyvar Frey freely roamed Ryman’s uncoordinated camp. No one cared. One night alone, he swam across the moat and climbed up the castle with spikes. Only thirty feet up, the Tully guards had heard him clanking and aimed their crossbows from above. “Identify yourself!”
He whispered, “I am Olyvar Frey, son of Walder Frey, former squire to his King, Robb Stark. I come unarmed and offer myself as a hostage. I know the Blackfish, please let him know I am here.”
“Stay where you are.”
Olyvar clung to the castle’s wall half way down to death and half way up to forgiveness. Finally Ser Brynden Tully appeared and told Olyvar to come up quietly. As Olyvar threw himself over the parapet and onto the floor, the Blackfish kicked away his spikes and immediately kneed his body to the ground, holding a dagger at his throat. Shit, not again! Damn this mayhaps, why was I unblessed to be born a Frey?
“What are you doing here, Olyvar Frey?” Ser Tully demanded.
Olyvar told them the truth and handed him Lady Maege’s letter from a waterproof compartment in his garment. The letter was coded with secret words that he and she only knew. The Blackfish cracked the seal, unrolled the parchment and read. Afterwards he released the grip from the bottom and the message curled up on its own, eager to protect the secrets.
“The paper curls, at least you didn’t try to deceive me with the age of the parchment.” He then asked Olyvar, “So, you killed some of your own men did you?”
“To save Ser Westerling, yes.” The Blackfish looked at his eyes and nodded in approval. “May I see her now?” Olyvar inquired.
The Tully guards led Olyvar to her room. Some left the area, but others stayed and watched, still suspicious of the unarmed Frey. She was in her solar, knitting her needle works. He fell down to one knee towards his niece-in-law (by Olyvar’s brother-in-law, Lord Edmure Tully), “My Queen.”
“Olyvar!” Without a hint of hesitation or mistrust, she dropped her needle, ran towards him, and wrapped her loose skinny arms strongly under his’. She poured her heart, soul and grief-filled life into a Rose By the name of Olyvar Frey. He reciprocated, placing his arms around her shoulders as Jeyne Westerling-Stark continued to hold tight. Her orange sized breasts pushed against his chest, as the Queen’s chestnut mop of brown hair sat below Olyvar’s clean-shaven chin.
“Robb.” It was all she needed to say as they shared a sob. Nothing hurt more than that moment when he shared the same pain with Jeyne. Olyvar dipped his head to hers, their salty tears finally uniting and slowly dancing together as their faces pressed cheek to cheek.
“He is in the heavens now, I believe, singing from above.” Olyvar prayed. “He will be waiting for us. No doubt we will see him again some day, but we must make him wait.”
“I miss him so much,” Jeyne cried. She was always cheerful with Olyvar since they first met. Though he was curious whether she truly loved Robb or just wanted to be a queen, she has repeatedly been kind to him, so sweet. She never intervened when Robb trained Olyvar at swordplay and he was grateful for that. When they wed, Olyvar knew Robb could never be his brother, but Jeyne did not seem to mind letting him continue to squire beside her much younger brother, Rollam Westerling. Robb had allowed Olyvar to protect the queen sometimes, along with the other household guards, though he was still training at arms. Olyvar and Jeyne would talk constantly, mostly about their King. Even when Jeyne rambles about him, she would always shy away from talking about Robb’s bed manners. But Olyvar insisted he did not mind hearing it. Jeyne felt like a sister to him, just as much or more as Roslin.
“I miss him too,” Olyvar replied. “Did you really love him?”
She cried a little bit louder and squeezed Olyvar even harder. “With all my heart.”
Olyvar wanted to confess too, but he could not do it here, not with everyone watching. He only hoped Jeyne would ask him the same, and she did. “Did you really love him, Olyvar?”
He tightened his grip on Jeyne’s shoulders. “More than you ever know.”
She gently reached for his hands and lowered them. “Olyvar, you were his squire. He is gone now. But you still have a duty to us. You must protect us. We must never separate again. Promise me Olyvar. Promise me.”
“No. I cannot. Not yet. I must leave you, just this one last time, for your safety and your family’s.”
“You are part of my family,” the Queen proclaimed. Tears rolled down again, their hands still held together at their hips.
“I need to leave Riverrun tonight. And I promise you, we will reunite again and I will keep you safe.”
They talked for hours about the good times, the horror, and what the future lies. They talked about Robb, crying to the sadness of him, exulting at his bravery and his glories, laughing at the silly juvenile things the teenager king did to entertain them, and about falling in love with him all over again. And then they cried some more.
Later on that night, Ser Brynden visited Jeyne and Olyvar, with Lady Eleyna and Lady Sybell watching. “Olyvar, you were the King’s squire and though he is no longer with us, you are still owed a knighthood. Let the gods curse me if I ever knighted a Frey, but you are no Frey I have ever known. What you are about to do would be considered treason to your family.”
“But my lord father was treasonous to my King. I do not get to choose my father or which family I was born into. But here right now, is the family I want to be with.”
“Will you honor your new family? Will you honor your duty to your late King, his Queen and his House, the Starks of Winterfell?”
“I do,” Olyvar replied with pride.
The Blackfish unsheathed his sword, the blade alive with moonlight gleaming from the window balcony. “Shit I think I’m doing this wrong. I was supposed to say that later. Anyways, kneel Olyvar Frey.”
Olyvar got to one knee as Queen Stark and all the others watched. Ser Brynden Tully, the legendary warrior Blackfish, placed the flat of his sword on Olyvar’s shoulder.
“I charge you to be brave and … aww shit the knighting words escape me. I’m embarrassing myself. Anyways um. Family! Honor! Duty!” He placed the blade on the other shoulder. “Shit, I forgot the rest of the speech. Forgive me. But Olyvar of House Frey, I name you a knight! Now rise!”
And arose the new knight stood, and proud he was. King Robb Stark could have never fulfilled his promise of a knighthood, but it was his father that took it away from him. But being knighted by the Blackfish was more than anything Olyvar wanted right now, besides keeping Queen Jeyne and his family safe. To him, it was forgiveness.
The Queen approached him with a longsword in scabbard, flat on both hands. “Our late King had a gift for you Ser Olyvar Frey, at least he would have wanted you to have it.”
Before Ser Olyvar received it, he already knew what it was. Robb’s sword. “No, I cannot. I am unworthy of this gift, his Grace’s sword.”
“This is King Robb Stark’s sword, and I am his Queen wife. I charge you to protect your family with his own sword.”
Queen Jeyne Stark made an offer that Ser Olyvar cannot refuse. He took the sword from her forgiving hands.
“What will you call it?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“A name. Robb never named his sword. But a good sword should have a good name.”
“I was told by my half-brothers that only cun–, I mean only women name their swords. I will let you name it, my Grace. How should we honor our late King Robb Stark?”
“It is honor,” Jeyne replied.
Confused, Olyvar asked, “What is honor?”
“A sword. This sword.”
Before the sun had dawned, Ser Olyvar Frey with Honor slung on his back, climbed down the castle walls with rope, swam under the moat again, and departed the birthplace of his King, Robb Stark, as a knight.
He returned to the Twins, keeping his knighthood a secret. When Riverrun had fallen to Ser Jaime Lannister, Edmure Tully had agreed to be a prisoner at Casterly Rock. Roslin Tully volunteered to join her husband, giving them a chance to raise a family together, even as hostages. Olyvar, their brother Perwyn and half-nephew Alesander all agreed to escort Lady Tully to the Westerlands. Although they told their half-family they would take the land-route for their journey; Olyvar, Perwyn, Alesander and Roslin had a different Frey destiny in mind. After the Kingslayer’s threat to Roslin’s unborn child, there was no day they would ever stay at Casterly Rock nor return to the Twins. They departed for the coast and reunited with Ser Brynden Tully, Lady Maege Mormont and Lord Galbart Glover aboard the Motherfunker.
Before Ser Brynden escaped Riverrun alone, he and Lord Tully reviewed all their options during Edmure’s short visit. An escape on land had many risks to be recaptured or killed, but at sea it was far fewer … and having a faster ship helped. They would allow Edmure and Jeyne to be peacefully escorted by their captors to Casterly Rock as hostages, only to be rescued from the shoreline. Lady Sybell Spicer swore her brother Ser Rolph would lead the way inside the caves. “Honor, not honors,” were House Westerling’s words. And Robb Stark showed more honor to Lady Sybell’s family than any of the other Westermen could. King Robb made her daughter a Queen, while King Tommen gifted Ser Rolph with the cursed ruins of Castamere from the notorious Lannister song. This honor was more of an insult than a reward.
One night aboard the Motherfunker, Olyvar took out a fresh new flat parchment to write a letter that was meant for his father. He held his feathered quill upright, but did not know how to start. He was fidgeting as he stared up around his cabin. He began to tap the pointy end of the quill and pricked his other hand by chance. Frey blood began to trickle from the wound along with a stinging pain. Cashing in on the moment, he then knew what to say. He dipped the blood smeared quill into the black inkpot, and began to pour his soul & anger onto the kin he no longer wanted.
Father, I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel. I focus on the pain, the only thing that is real. The needle tears a hole. This old familiar family sting. I try to forget it all the way. But I remember everything. I find myself asking … “What have I become? My sweetest King? Will everyone I love go away in the end?” And Father, you can have it all. My empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make it hurt. If I could start again, many miles back at home that night. To save my King, I would sacrifice myself. I would find a way. Your son Olyvar.
He rolled the parchment and laid a tablespoon of wax from his tallow candle at the edge. Olyvar pressed the button with his bleeding thumb, filling the stamp in a marble of white, red and pink; sealing it with his own blood. He placed the rolled parchment in his breast pocket, hoping to leave it somewhere in Casterly Rock and eventually reaching his father’s hands.
On the deck of the Motherfunker a few nights before … crewmen, Riverlands and Northern loyalists sang, drank, and cheered to the music of the masterplan. Though most wanted to spill blood to avenge the Red Wedding, humiliating their enemies would be the sweeter revenge: the story that sings in songs. But not all were there for vengeance. Some were just there for the adventure.
The Captain of the Motherfunker was there for the honor of joining their song. He wanted to look into the eyes of the lion, be a part of the thrill of the fight, rising up against our rivals. He also owed Ser Rolph Spicer a favor from their long smuggling history together at sea. If he helped rescue his niece Jeyne from the rocky castle, he would consider the debt paid, and the Black Sparrow was happy to oblige.
“So we are here to rescue this princess? No?” Samullu spoke in the broken Common Tongue
“No, not a princess, she is a queen,” Olyvar chatted.
“In the Summer Isles, a princess and a widowed queen is the same person. My father was king, but he died when I was a babe. My princess mother was the one who raised me after my uncle took the throne. I loved my mother. I named my swanship for her after she died a few years ago.”
“Motherfunker?” Olyvar asked. “What is a funker?”
“Where I am from, fighting and dancing is called the same thing. We call it funk. We funk to fight, we funk to dance, and we also funk to love. And the skill of our funk we always inherit from our mother’s side. I got it from my mama.” The black single-eyed captain pleaded. “Yo got yo from yo mama too. ‘Motherfunker’ is just a homage to one’s mother for giving us this art of our body’s motions.”
Olyvar never knew his mother, but he was very intrigued to hear more about Samullu’s and their culture. They chatted for quite a while.
Olyvar thanked him for helping them. But Samullu insisted it was the right thing to do after hearing about the horrors of the Red Wedding. “The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers! And yo will know I am the Captain when I lay my vengeance upon thee!”
Olyvar never knew the Black Sparrow was so pious to the gods of avengers.
Sharing rum together, Olyvar sung to him about his own story in depth. Captain Black Sparrow was impressed about his journey so far and he gave Olyvar a small jar of dirt. “This is soil from my empire back in the Summer Isle. I have a whole barrel of it to remind me of home. Here, take this other small gift as well.” He then took out a bird’s feather, long as a flute, bright and colorful. “We Summer Isle people have feathered cloaks, yo see it on all of us. But feathers like this one were meant for some of the bravest and baddest motherfunkers out there. I want yo to take it Ser Olyvar. Let it be yo warrior’s funk.”
Olyvar took it with his hand and gave it a warm stare. The feather was colored like a fading rainbow top to bottom, but the stem was yellow like a lemon. “Thank you.” The gifts were quite odd. By value it was not much, but it seemed like it meant a lot to the exiled prince, the type of gifts worth remembering.
“So what do yo need besides a miracle?” Samullu asked.
“Weapons. Bows and arrows. Lots of arrows.” Olyvar was serious.
“Aye, and I have a lot. Yo know, no one has ever done anything like what yo and the Blackfish’s men are about to do.”
“And that is why it will work.”
The plan was to allow Lord Edmure Tully and Queen Jeyne Stark to safely travel to Casterly Rock unmolested, under the command of Ser Forley Prester and his four hundred men. Lord Gawen Westerling and his son Rollam were to return to the Crag, but Lady Sybell was to stay with Jeyne, maintaining what deceptions she can conjure. Her bluff with Ser Jaime Lannister worked, earning the slightest trust from them before their escape at Casterly Rock. An attempt to rescue them on their path down the River Road would invite the Lannisters to execute the hostages on the spot, failing the objective’s purpose. To stealthily hunt down each soldier one by one would have proven even then, a mission of the impossible. Stirring fear in the hearts of the Lannister soldiers was the only solution, the effective psychological weapon. Ser Prester’s men have been haunted by the ghosts of the Brotherhood without Banners throughout the Riverlands, and the Blackfish would use that to his advantage. With the help of their fastest horse, Bubbles, mounted by Justin Smallister, a distant cousin to House Mallister of Seagard, he would tie empty nooses on trees ahead of Ser Forley’s route. The hope of the hoax would keep the Lannisters on edge, making it difficult to rest. Only when they reached the castle of Casterly Rock, they would drop their guards down, thinking the hard part was over. But on the exact evenfall on the day of their arrival, Lord Gawen Westerling and our small land forces, hidden in the eastern woods outside, would sound the trumpets and drums, drawing the weary soldiers to arms again. But the Blackfish was to infiltrate Casterly Rock from the western sea. Ser Rolph Spicer, our secret agent inside, will bond with Jeyne’s guards, drinking with them throughout their journey. Only on the hour of the escape, Ser Spicer would drug the guards’ ale, allowing them to fall asleep during the diversionary music. The Blackfish and his squad would provide armed escort, if needed. Ser Spicer would also help them navigate inside the caves, rescuing his niece Jeyne and their family back to the Motherfunker. By then, it would be too dark for the Lannisters to give chase into the ocean, if they even realized Queen Stark had flown off.
“I need twenty good men,” the Blackfish had demanded. A few hundreds of the remaining Stark loyalists and outlaws gathered at the docks, where the Motherfunker was anchored.
“And one more woman too!” the She-Bear crone proclaimed.
The men laughed in agreement as Ser Brynden continued. “I need volunteers only. Soldiers who want this fate to f*ck them from behind in their arses! For the twenty one of us, we will be in harm’s way, make no mistake about it. I do not expect us to be discovered, but if we were, our escape will not be easy like our brothers working the diversion in the woods. I need men quick on their feet, proficient with the bow, and skilled at close-quarter hand-to-hand combat. Who are my brave men that will be knocking on the Lannister’s doors?”
Ser Olyvar Frey thundered in first and raised his hand. Jeyne’s words echoed in his thoughts, Promise me Olyvar, promise me.
Alesander Frey surprised him. “No you fool! You are not a skilled fighter. Put your hand down!” Olyvar told his nephew.
“I am a grown man, and I will not miss this adventure for nothing,” Alesander protested to his uncle.
“You are just a singer.”
“Then I want to be a witness to this great deed and be the first singer of our new song.”
Olyvar could not stop his brother & nephew from doing something so stupid.
Ser Raynald Westerling the Seashell Knight raised his hand too, eager to save his sisters Jeyne and Eleyna, and his mother Sybell.
Others began to join. Some had their reasons, some had their vengeance, some just wanted to try something new.
Fess stepped up. He was a long lost uncle to Ser Addam Marbrand after a lengthy voyage at sea. But Ser Addam refused to believe him, denying him a small chunk of land near Ashemark that Fess was entitled to own. He called his uncle an imposter and casted him out of the region. Fess swore he was a Marbrand, and swore he would unleash a storm on their household if they did not give his piece of land back. To the future of reclaiming his name by shaming theirs, Fess Marbrand was recruited into our efforts against the Lannisters and their bannermen.
The Summer Islander, Ben, and his Westerosi-born son, Benjen, were farmers from the Neck. Years ago, Lord Rickard Stark had welcomed the immigrant and his wife, granting them farm lands to flourish in. They grew rice in the marsh and exported it from White Harbor. They were so grateful to House Stark that they quite frankly named their son “Benjen” for Lord Stark’s youngest child of similar age. Since then, their hard earned work with their rough black hands in the cold had paid off in prosperity. After being widowed, Ben and his son ran the farm, just the two of them … until a few Ironborn men took Moat Cailin and all their harvest this past year. Their will and pride refused to let them take it again. So instead of growing new rice, they let it wither away and left the land … trapping the jaws of the Ironborn to hunger. Now Ben and Benjen were reborn into Ser Brynden’s band, for the honor of House Stark. “With great honor comes a great ass whooping!” Ben had declared.
Jess and Jory were two brothers that served House Westerling as guards at the Crag, personally protecting the Westerling sisters, Jeyne and Eleyna. They had watched them grow up since birth. Participating in their rescue was their duty, a duty they took without hesitation for the girls who were like nieces to them.
Phyl was a crewmate of royal blood on the Motherfunker. Back on another Summer Isle kingdom, his older king brother passed away as his young prince nephew took fresh rule. After Phyl forbade his nephew-king to order an attack on a rival neighboring island, he screamed at him, “You are not my father!” and flew out of the throne room, slamming its double doors. Soon after, the boy-king ordered for his uncle’s exile. Free like a bird, Phyl flew away himself to a ship with his friend, the Black Sparrow, looking for a new adventure.
Sam, June, and Rico were all hard loyal Tully soldiers that were ready to follow the Blackfish to the end of the world. Sam used to be a tall fat leviathan of a man, until one day June told Sam, “You never had the making of a first-class athlete like Rico here.” From then on, Sam, offended, lost several stones over the years as the three served patriotically together to House Tully. Now tall, lean and muscular, Sam was a force not to be reckoned with. They nicknamed him Sam the Shredder, but for shredding his fat as his body was now packed with muscular meat.
The hedge knight Ser Barnabus the Goose volunteered along with his new squire Leo, a boy of fourteen, whom he met that same day. Goose was a tall man, big shoulders, wide hips with greying blond hair. Though he grew up as an orphan, Ser Barnabus often boasted about being the grandson of some legendary tall hedge knight that he never chanced to meet. The other orphans used to laugh at him, calling him the Useless Goose. But ever since he suited up in his knightly armor decades ago, Ser Barnabus assured he was a useful Goose helping the small folks around the Riverlands. Olyvar wondered if Barnabus was his real name, or if he was even a knight.
Leo’s older brothers wanted to join the action as well … so Mikkal, Raff, and Donal stepped forward. Their uncle Scrooge, a man in his fifties, will chip in his services too. The four brothers and uncle were known as the Pissa family. They once owned a tavern serving their mother’s recipe of baked thin crispy bread, spun circular into a flat pie, served with tomato sauce and cheese above. Their uncle Scrooge improved his sister’s recipe by adding sliced duck sausages on top of the cheese, and charging customers extra for the option. Olyvar and the men on the Motherfunker had sampled and enjoyed the cuisine they baked aboard. Captain Samullu claimed that pissa was indeed a tasty dish, and suggested adding slices of pineapples on top of it too. The Pissa brothers gave Samullu Jaqenssen a cold stare as if the gesture was treason to the recipe. Back when they owned the tavern with their mother, the family often boasted about their food to the point where their competitors despised them. Their opponents would try to mimic cooking the same dish, but others would complain it tasted no different than bread. Afraid of losing their revenue, they insulted their mother’s crispy dish by calling it “pissa,” slandering it by saying it tasted like piss. But the brothers took the name their enemies gave them and wore it like armor, never allowing it to hurt them. Raff returned their insult by calling their adversary’s food being something that comes out of a cow’s bung hole. That humiliation stuck. For a while, men and women from all over the Riverlands continued to rallied in long lines to the Pissa tavern for a delicious slice of pissa. Sadly one day, the Mountain and his men came to destroy their tavern during the war, and took their mother. They never saw her again. Despite the sad drama, the Pissa family were a cheerful bunch, save for their pessimistic uncle. Olyvar could only hope they would find their mother safe and sound some day.
On the first day aboard the Motherfunker, Leo had never been on a ship his entire life. He bolted to the stern of the galley, stood on the middle rail with his arms spread out and screamed, “I’m the king of the world!”
Olyvar had to grab the blond teen down before he fell overboard. “Nice try Leo,” Olyvar said. “But you are too lowborn to be royalty. You are better off marrying a queen to be a king, or at least start with a princess.”
Ser Barnabus the Goose appeared and offered his help. He was in need of a squire for some reason, and Leo was quite eager. “Leo, I’m going to teach you how to live.” Goose swung his arm around the teenager’s neck and rested it there. “You want to be a king and win the ladies? Learn how to squire for a knight first. Unchain and fetch me my stallion from the docks, I’ll show you a trick. I’ll show you how to ride it on this rocking ship!” Leo did as he was ordered.
“And when will I ever need that skill?” Leo questioned as he brought the horse up to the deck from the ramp.
“What was it you were looking for again on this journey? Your destiny? Your death?” Goose mounted.
“Naked princesses,” Leo said.
“Well this move would make any maiden, royal or lowborn, shed their clothes off for you.” The knight pulled down the reins as the stallion stood tall on its two hind legs, looking like a work of art meant for eternal statues of the gods.
Samullu appeared and asked Leo, “Is that Goose on a horse? On my boat? Why is Goose on a horse on my boat?!” The stallion came down, hooves thundering the top of the deck.
“Aye Captain, Ser Goose was teaching me how to pick up women.”
“Shiitt Leo, that’s all you had to say.” Samullu wrapped his right arm around the neck of the youth and offered his counsel, his left hand danced in the air as he spoke to solidify his argument. “If yo want naked women, f*ck land. Don’t be a knight. Be a captain of a galley. The best pick up line to catch any woman yo can, is ‘I own a ship’.” Samullu raised his bearded chin. “After this mission is over, come with me and we’ll sail the seas. Meet women from all over the world. And they love a captain. Do yo concur? Leo, each lady is just a flower, another rose by another name that smell just as sweet, waiting to be plucked.”
Goose winced at the word and protested. “The only maids you meet sailing seas are mermaids. Don’t be fooled by the Black Sparrow. Some of them may be pretty on the top half, but you won’t like what they got below. It probably stinks down there too. But the captain doesn’t mind, he seems to enjoy bedding mermaids!”
Whether sea, air or land … the Black Sparrow or Goose … Leo will probably have to fly with one of them after the mission, Olyvar thought.
The night before the rescue, the raiders and the crewmen drunkenly sang and cheered to music, rum, ale and pissa. Drowning in the glory of their task on the morrow, they reminisce about the harsh archery and lethal weapons training Lord Glover had given them over the past weeks back on land … while questioning how large Lady Mormont’s sacs truly were. Lady Roslin Tully, approached everyone and asked if they would write their names on the book she held. “It’s for the memories,” she said. They all did. A signature on each page for each man and Maege. Some drew their own personal coat of arms. When it was Olyvar’s turn, he hesitated about sketching the two towers. He wanted to separate himself from the murderous lore of House Frey. He decided to draw his towers, with a Stark wolf running on top of the bridge, and a Tully trout jumping below it. He signed his name, Ser Olyvar of House Frey, squire to the late King Robb Stark, knighted by Ser Brynden Tully.
He wondered if he will be written into history as a great knight some day. A knight that could not save his king, Olyvar thought sadly. He would not be the only one though. Word had travelled for Ser Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers, and his gallant assault at Dragonstone. He was gravely wounded, but no word on this brave knight’s final fate. Like Olyvar, Ser Loras had failed to protect his first King, Renly Baratheon, a man that the Knight of Flower was rumored to have truly loved. Though his King was gone, he continued to be bathe in the glory of battle. Despite being on the opposing side of the war, Ser Olyvar would be gay if he had the chance to meet Ser Loras, if he still lives, chatting with him about the kings they loved and lost.
Later on that night, Captain Samullu Jaqenssen shared a drunken game of cvyasse with Ser Barnabus for a golden dragon. When Goose doubled down after his first loss, he fell again, owing the Black Sparrow a pair of golden dragons by the end of it. When Samullu demanded Goose to pay up his reward immediately, Goose pretended not to understand his loose Summer Isle accent, giving him a wild chase.
“Wat?”
“Yo loose Goose, yo owe me the gold,” the Captain demanded in his queer Common Tongue.
“Wat?”
“The gold yo fool. The gold! Yo pay me.”
“Wat?”
“Wat country yo from?”
“Wat?”
“Do they not speak the Common Tongue in Wat?”
“Wat?”
“Common Tongue mother Goose!”
“Wat?”
“Say wat again! I dare yo, I double dare yo! I’ll throw yo overboard off the Motherfunker!”
Goose paused for a moment, until his pride could not resist. “Wat? Wat? Wat? Wat? Wat?” Goose said ‘what‘ so many times, it sounded like he was quacking, each one louder than before. “Wat? Wat? Wat? Wat? Wat?”
In a nick of fury, Samullu Jaqenssen flipped over the cyvasse table, stood up and drew his short blade. His remaining good eye raged like a storm, as steam seeped through the black leather patch of the other. “Yo cold ass honking Goose! Yo son o’ a wh*re! Yo bandit! I will gut yo from balls to brains to see what gooses is made of. I better find yo sacs golden before I take yo skull to gild gold! Either way, I will have my gold from yo!”
Goose suddenly comprehended everything, stood up with all his height and threatened. “Goodness gracious, do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Go ahead and try, but you will only find below me great balls of fire!” He grabbed his own crotch and pumped it once into the air. “And after your failed attempt, I will claw out your last remaining eye, leaving you blind for the rest of your sorry life!”
The others flocked towards the scene, holding the two back as they inched towards each other.
Jess tried to stop them. “Gods, have mercy!”
Sam the Shredder intervened as well. “That is enough! I want you two to stop!”
Jory said, “Cut it out!”
“Will yo shut up!” screamed Phyl, who had hustled a wager on the game.
Mikkal grabbed the drunken Goose, threw him to the floor, and told him to just beat it.
At the end, they all just laugh it off like all drunk men do. Smiling, spilling ale out of their cups, retching out into the sea the rum they drank, before drinking some more again. They were having one last good time before the mission. But today they had a job to do.
The twenty men, Lady Maege, and Ser Rolph continued up the paths in the lightless caves of Casterly Rock, huffing and puffing, but still silent as much as they could hold. One loud word at the wrong place at the wrong time may be their doom. In single file, the group followed Ser Spicer’s point with one lit torch. The stench was terrible and the dampness made it worse. Guarding the rear, Olyvar’s eyes were clouded in darkness at times where the torchlight was too far ahead to shine back. He relied on Ser Goose in front of him to lead the way, as Goose relied on Leo for the same.
[Part 3]

This is a post to raise consciousness around this aspect of the TTI because it doesn't seem to get much discussion, and the legal industry, especially the judges and magistrates, really need to hear from people about how they are failing to live up to decent ideals of justice.
Involuntary Commitment, "IVC," is common in every state except maybe Connecticut, and advocates are pushing for more of this kind of option. More info on that advocacy here (multiple trigger warnings) https://www.madinamerica.com/2021/06/letter-advocate-involuntary-treatment/.
IVC removes pretty much all the rights of the patient and their parents. And pretty much all it takes is a few magic words on a piece of paper by a provider, notarized, and presented to a magistrate, few of whom even read it. They just sign and done.
I just went through this with my own child. I was told by someone I used to trust that a particular hospital in my area would be judicious in how they treated them, and would not send them to poor facilities. In fact, they IVC'd my daughter, forcing her through transport by sheriff, strip searches, having her personal belongings referred to as "contraband," well, this is /troubledteens, everyone here knows how awful this process is. I was livid when I discovered they had ivc'd my child.
The irony is I used to work in this field as a lawyer, defending folks from IVC. At that time, hospitals were a little slower to invoke it. But even so, I didn't really understand what was happening, and also, most of the facilities where my clients were short-term, community based, staffed by decent people.
But even then, winning an IVC case is next to impossible. The legal requirements are practically zero, as in, a simple statement "the respondent poses a potential threat to themselves or others" is pretty much all that is needed. And bam, you now have a permanent record as dangerous person. They don't have to provide notice to you or your parents. They don't have to allow a second opinion by a doctor of your choosing. You now have no rights, your parents (assuming they were not the ones petitioning) have no rights to your care.
A large part of the problem here is magistrates, folks who are not always even lawyers, are told just to sign these things without question. There is no-one at that juncture to advocate for the sick person, they are completely at the mercy of this sick system, and usually have no idea what is happening.
Other awful things about this: the respondent does not get to look at their own file, neither do parents. Somehow this is not considered a due process violation.
There's no oversight. Maybe in some states, but most don't think twice about it. Nobody does any followup to determine whether the IVC actually did any good.
Judges don't care. They are more concerned about being the judge who denied an IVC who later killed a bunch of people than they are with the collective harm of thousands (tens of thousands? hundreds? who knows?) kids who don't deserve to be treated like criminals.
It keeps getting easier. In NC recent overhaul of the law means pretty much anyone who takes an easy training is qualified to examine for the purposes of an "emergency."
Even in those cases where maybe possibly it makes sense to ivc someone, there is now an adversarial relationship between the patient (and, we hope, their family) and their care providers.
Call to Action: Any solution to the overall TTI program really needs to include addressing this injustice. In the upcoming senate hearing, if you have been involved in an IVC be sure to include how little it helped and how much harm it did. Ask Judges why they never deny IVCs, and how they challenge whether examiners (rarely are they doctors or even specialized PAs) are actually telling the truth, or are competent. Ask magistrates why they are not doing their jobs with some diligence.
Ask care providers how much harm it causes to create a legal adversarial relationship with a patient. Most will deny that an ivc does that, they are dead wrong, and you can direct them to ask a lawyer if they won't take your word for it. And then ask the question again. What patient will trust a provider who orders them to be treated like a criminal? What person would do that?
And we really need to push back on what qualifies for an ivc. There needs to be substantial evidence of an imminent threat of serious physical injury or more. And even when there is an ivc, the reduction in rights should be highly limited and tailored only to the very immediate need, and never completely curtailed. There should be a requirement to seek informed consent nevertheless, and a right to redress for over-treatment.
I am angry as fuck about this. As a lawyer, I'm ashamed of the dereliction of my profession. As a citizen, I'm appalled at our failure as a society to address this issue. As a human, I'm mortified and how horribly we are treating people in emotional distress. Matthew 25:40 et seq.
It's too late for us, but maybe with diligence and effort, our children and grandchildren will not have to suffer as we have.
Edit: I know most folks here are survivors and staunchly against parents introducing their kids into the TTI placements, and am 100% with you on that. My situation as a parent is tricky as I am under court order to do tx for my kid. Also, in this instance, I was taking my kid to a local hospital, planned to be with them the whole time, I just needed some temporary support, and if I had any inkling of what to was come, I would have found some other way..
That said, where the fuck are the community services to help in a crisis? I have yet to find a solution to what I needed in that moment. There's friends, but they all have full plates themselves. I have decent insurance, have some means, and yet can't find anything or anyone who could have given me the temporary support I needed.

Hello all!
My family and I have been Verizon Fios customers for many years, and I must say, we are actually quite happy with the service. However, recently, I have noticed that the speeds we receive are often inconsistent, with common throughput during file transfers and downloads less than 100 megabits per second on a regular basis. This is both over Ethernet and Wi-fi and is true across multiple devices. I spoke with the phone support and had a technician visit the premises, as well as ran the speed test tool on VZ's website (speedtest[dot]verizon[dot]net). The results on the Verizon provided speed test are often inconsistent, and they tend to jump around a lot. However, I regularly see speeds between 200 and 400 Mbps on the router side, which is far less than what we pay for. (FYI, we are subscribed to Fios Gigabit, which promises up to 940/880).
I often run large file transfers between my cloud storage and my computer here at home, so this is a rather large problem. When I spoke to the phone service, they rebooted the ONT and router several times, and the kind woman I spoke with was very concerned about the performance. However, when the technician visited, everything looked on the up and up when he visited, and he said he didn't see anything wrong. I completely understand that, especially as this is a very inconsistent problem that comes in and out quite often.
If any of y'all have Fios and might be able to offer any support on what I might be able to try here, please feel free to shout out, as I am really hoping the community might be able to offer some guidance.
Also, I don't know if the official Verizon support lurks on here, but if you guys do, please reach out as well, I'm happy to work with y'all to solve this together.
Also, for reference, I am running the Fios-provided CR1000A router, however I have a dedicated DHCP and DNS server elsewhere on the network, running Windows Server 2022. The Fios-provided router serves as my router and firewall, as well as a Wi-fi access point.
Let me know if there's any other relevant information I can provide to assist with troubleshooting. I look forward to hearing you all's suggestions!

I see a lot of posts where people assume failure if they only make it to their state school. This is simply not reality.

• Most people go to state school. There are exponentially more people graduating from state schools than from the T20 - just look at the small class sizes for most of them. These will be the vast majority of people you end up working with.
  
• Most people cannot afford the T20. Unless you are rich or poor, these simply aren't an option for most people.
  
• Undergraduate doesn't have to be your last degree. You can be a prestige whore for grad school, where you'll only need to pay for 1 or 2 years of outrageous tuition.
  
• Graduate schools don't care that you went to state school. They only care how you performed. It can be a lot easier to stand out at State U then at HYPSM. This means good recommendation letters from professors, along with better grades with (generally) less effort.
  

I will give you a few success stories, of course anecdotal yet clearly not out of the ordinary.
First is my brother, who started as an honor roll student at a Big 10 university (not Michigan or Northwestern). By his junior year he was failing out and withdrew. After working for a couple years in telecommunications, he was laid off. He enrolled at Excelsior in New York (remote) and took exams to knock out credits to complete his undergrad in general studies or some other worthless major.
He used Petersons.com to find graduate programs at top universities with high acceptance rates. A couple examples would be Yale forestry (back then ~70%) or Harvard MPA (generally ~50%). While he was rejected from most programs, he received an offer from Rice University and eventually completed his Masters from there. He now makes $250k/year in Houston.
Second is my friend's son who recently attended Texas A&M. He majored in logistics through the business school and graduated with a 4.0. This sounds impossible, but there are two key points here. 1- Texas A&M doesn't have +/- grades, so a 90 is an A, and 2- his major was in the business school. Before graduating he applied for the MIT scholarship MIT Supply Chain Excellence Awards - SCM. He was one of 5 from Texas A&M that year to win the scholarship award, and will be attending MIT for graduate school next year.
Third is myself, who started at a Big 10 university with a 3.0 by the end of Freshman year. By junior year I had lost a lot of money on the stock market and had to work full time. After a two year break from school I went to community college at night before enrolling at the same Big 10 uni. I worked my tail off and ended up with a 3.9 in my last 60 semester hours. After a couple years of (voluntary) unemployment I somehow got a job at an investment bank, doing trade related support. I got them to pay for Stanford graduate classes through the SCPD (Stanford center for professional development). After 6 classes and a 4.0, I stopped due to my company not being a member company with Stanford. I enrolled in a third rate MBA and quickly finished the degree.
Years later, after the pandemic, I finally got around to applying to graduate programs. I was accepted to Berkeley (MIDS/data science), Penn (MCIT), and NYU (Tandon/Cybersecurity). The combination of my last 60 hours grades and the 4.0 in graduate school seemed to make a big difference. I never thought I could get accepted into schools like this with my crappy first few years GPA, but it's how you finish, not how you start.
TLDR: don't worry if you didn't make it in to a T20. Just do the best you can at your state school. If you get excellent grades, even if not until your last 2 years, you can still make it into a top graduate school!

Hi, I (Male, 16) just finished my Sophomore year at an academically challenging high school. (I'm sorry if this comes off as snobby; it's not my intention. I'm just trying to describe my situation as best I can.) I have no sexy legacy status (my parents both are college-educated, though), and I am unlikely to be good enough at my primary sport to be able to play at the collegiate level (at a school I would like to go to). So for me, it's getting in on academics or getting fucked, lol, and I'd rather not get fucked and go to the best school I can because I'm trying to go into finance. I have some decent ECs, two sports, robotics, club leadership, a student government position, and community service. But my academics are low-key mid.
I had a 3.60 UW in all regulars in freshman year; I finished strong but didn't really know how to study at the beginning of the year (my fault), hence the 3.6. Things looked bright heading into this year: two honors and one AP, and I got out to a hot start. Unfortunately, some tricky shit came up at home mid-way through the year (that's all I want to say), and since then, my mental toughness, as well as my habits, got all messed up. In the second semester of the year, I completely sold the bag and will end with 2.5 A's (including a semester class) and 4B's (one in honors and one in AP), which is not great considering my freshman year stats. As a man, I understand it's my job to make a good life for my future family, which must be done through hard work. Currently, I feel I'm not setting myself up well to serve that role considering my current habits, and I want to change that; I know what results I need to achieve: a good SAT and preferably a 4.0 UW in my classes next year (3 AP's, 3 Non-Honors, luckily I'm excited about all of my classes, especially my AP's) but I need help on setting myself up for success because I currently struggle to manage my time well, which leads to late assignments, poor sleep, and sometimes poor results, how do I fix my time management issue? And how do I get my grit back? Thank you. (Sorry if this post was corny lol).

Personally, I love series like Destiny and Monster Hunter to name a few, and if Diablo had a common area when you select your character. Like in those games. Then I feel that would be awesome. Somewhere where characters can interact, find groups, trade and sell mats/items to each other. Not hey meet me at this town. Been having trouble calling this game a "live" game. When it doesn't have that "live" feel.
I don't know. Maybe some other tasks and events to allow the game to feel more alive. Anyone else feel the same? Maybe wishful thinking on my end but I love this game and would like to see more done with it.
Also having to wait 3 months for content that can be completed in a short time...just makes this game feel like a job/chore/another notch on the belt. Rather than a living, breathing environment and community. Even Diablo Immortal a cell phone game manages to be much more ahead in lots of those same areas.
Diablo has made Blizzard tons of money through full price purchase, paid DLC, and being on Xbox Game Pass. Finances or making money isn't a valid reason I believe. If that's the case don't call this a live service game. Unless live service means content once a quarter updates.

I’m not even sure where to begin. I guess first and foremost, I suffer from depression, ADHD (with “OCD tendencies”), anxiety & panic attacks, PTSD and probably ongoing, unaddressed super-grief. I want to change, more badly than I’ve wanted maybe anything. I just don’t know how to do it.
I feel trapped, like I can see the person I want to be (within reason), but I can’t even take the babysteps needed to get to the starting place of that journey. I have absolutely no motivation to get up and do anything. I feel ZERO joy. I’m on meds, I take my meds (I have trouble adhering to a normal schedule because I have a roommate who sleeps from anywhere between 4am and 7pm). Still, the things like washing my face, taking a shower, brushing my teeth, getting dressed, etc. feel overwhelming. Therefore, the bigger steps seem impossible. In some ways, the medication almost makes it feel WORSE, like why CAN’T I do what so many other people suffering from the same problems CAN?
I’ve read that mental illness either rewires your brain, or you start out with it already hardwired differently. I feel like I’ve been wired for a lot of my life to feel like I can’t take care of the day to day things, and I can’t break that mold. I can’t even break tasks down into smaller, more manageable tasks. Even THAT feels overwhelming. And of course, the guilt and shame of allowing myself to be completely overwhelmed by something stupid is overwhelming in itself because it makes me feel terrible, that I’m inferior, that I’m wasting my life, that I can’t even discuss it with anyone because it sounds like I’m just a giant crybaby who doesn’t want to take responsibility for my life.
Do you need backstory that probably/maybe doesn’t matter? Because I’ve got backstory that probably/maybe doesn’t matter…
I lost the most important person to me in 2020, and although it seems like I’ve gotten to some kind of place of “acceptance”, I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore. Years before that, in my mid-late teens, I lost both of my parents within a four-year window. I LIKED my parents, we hung out and had conversations. They, probably unknowingly, helped me get through some things I was really struggling with. I feel like they died before I could learn a lot of important things about being an adult (like, the difference between an HMO and PPO, or how to drive a car). I resent that I haven’t had them here to help me with things life has thrown my way or just to enjoy being around. How different would I be, would my life be, if they had lived longer? How much less of a disaster would I be now?
I’ve had issues with my mental health since I was a child. They started small, almost inconsequential, but soon began to mount. By 16-17, things (which probably included the trauma of my dad’s death) had begun to especially interfere with my life and schoolwork. It seemed the more my problems became a hindrance, the more my school had a vendetta against me. During the last semester of my senior year, when all of my classmates were freely cutting class at no consequence, I had a small coalition of teachers reporting back to my Vice Principal about me. I was taken to court on two occasions, they threatened what was just my mother at this point with fines and possible criminal charges. While they could have suggested I be taken to a psychologist (who would have found I was sufferering from AHDH and debilitatingly low self-worth, and maybe set me on a course that could have led to a better outcome later), they sentenced me to community service and denied my applications for Independent Study, citing “poor attendance”.
After high school and shortly after my mother’s death, I entered into a long term relationship kind of against my will. I didn’t want to be with the person, but having just lost my mom and having no idea what to do, I relented and stayed in that relationship for several years. From there, I immediately entered into a relationship with my late fiancé. I can say with certainty that there was a fair amount of codependency between us. However, this was the first and only time I could honestly say I loved someone, wholly and entirely, and felt loved that way by someone else. With all the doubt and worry and fear I experienced regularly, I felt none of that about this person. I knew their demons well and was committed to fight against them—all the way to the end.
Maybe it’s the trauma of having my entire world and reason for living ripped away from me unexpectedly before diving headlong into the world’s longest, most surreal forced lockdown with nothing but my thoughts. Maybe it has to do with how MY worst year ever would soon come to belong to the ENTIRE world—my story, my pain, my struggle stamped out by the viral equivalent of 9/11. Or maybe it’s just that until four years ago, I had never really been alone. Since then, I’ve been on a crusade to fix myself (I can’t kill myself and I can’t live wanting to kill myself without my fiancé), however, I’ve had no real mental help or particular guidance, or even really a friend who has any idea of what tf I’m talking about, so it’s entirely possible I’ve been doing far more harm than good.
Any help, any advice, anything is greatly appreciated. I have a sense of humour and a penchant for sarcasm, but that doesn’t mean I’m not in pain.

TL:DR: I recently tried Fragrance Revival. They can’t match worth anything and seem to be slapping names on bottles to take your money. Classic bait and switch and few scruples. Order through Paypal as they can’t be trusted. They never even acknowledge they are advertising something that smells nothing like they claim and seem to be pasting form letters as responses.
The Long Read: I recently bought something advertised as “Body Shop Wood Musk Type” from their website, which offers an “instant refund” Hi. I just got my order and it smells NOTHING like Body Shop wood musk. it smells heavily floral and cloyingly of roses.
First Refund Request: I can’t even breathe it’s horrible. On the off chance this was an error, you are welcome to send the right one. otherwise, please refund me immediately.
First Response: Hello,
Thanks for reaching out to us.
We are dedicated to replicating or reviving the fragrance you love. Our scent experts gave it their best shot. However, we understand that replicating a scent can be tricky, as some people like the duplication while others do not.
To ensure you get the perfect fragrance, we'd love to offer a few options:

1. We're happy to try replicating the fragrance again at no additional cost to you. You can send us a sample, or describe the scent and what you feel is missing in the current version.
   
2. Alternatively, you can choose any fragrance you like from our collection, completely free of charge. You're welcome to keep the original product as our way of saying thanks.
   

No matter which option you choose, you get to keep the product(s) absolutely free! Consider it a gift for choosing us.
We're committed to your satisfaction. Please let us know which option you prefer, or if you have any other questions, and we'll be happy to help!
Second Request: Hi. I chose a scent from your collection that you specifically named body shop wood musk. Hence, I figured that you would know what it smelled like since you advertise it. Nobody can currently get a sample of it, which was why I was hopeful. What you sent me smelled highly floral and of roses. What musk was very herbaceous, fresh, and forest woodsy with a hint of ambergris, and something else, that I could not replicate. This is not even close to what that smells like which is why I thought it must be an error. If that’s not the case, I would like a refund because there is no hope of matching it. If you don’t already know what it smells like.
you really should take that name off your page because what you’re offering is not even close. I can’t believe that you’ve sold this and have not experienced this response before. Which is concerning. Anyone who is familiar that could tell you that it’s not close. It’s been off the market since the 90s, I’m sure you’ve had plenty of opportunities to perfect it
Will take the option listed on your website, which was a full refund. I could not give away the cent you gave me to to anyone without insulting them. No offense intended, but it truly smells awful. I am not allergic to anything or sensitive to things, but it gave me a headache and was overpoweringly awful.
NO RETURN NEEDED INSTANT REFUND POLICY. Who does that? We do. After being in business for over 10 years we figured out it’s the only way to successfully and ethically run this business.
If you are unable to match it, please refund. Per your policy, above.
Second Response: Hello
Thank you for getting back to us.
We understand the new scent might not be exactly what you were hoping for. Nobody likes a fragrance miss!
But, before you go, we'd love another shot at getting it right. We've learned that fragrances can react differently on each person, and we want to recreate the scent that you'll love.
Here's what we can do:
You don’t need to send us a sample. Just simply tell us what you liked about the original scent and what you didn't like about the new one. We'll use this feedback to create 1-3 small samples tailored to your preferences.
Choose the one that works for you, and we’ll use its formula on a new order equivalent to the original to be shipped to you (you can keep the original bottle too!).
If you're still not happy, a full refund is always on the table. Let us know how you'd like to proceed, and we'll get started on creating your perfect scent!
Best Regards,
Raphael Customer Service Fragrance Revival
Third Request: Dear Raphael:
Thank you for responding. Regarding your request for a description, I literally did that in the email you replied to:
“What you sent me smelled highly floral and of roses. What musk was very herbaceous, fresh, and forest woodsy with a hint of ambergris, and something else, that I could not replicate.”
My concern is that you market this product as “Body Shop Wood Musk Type,” implying that you know what this product smells like already and the fact is you don’t and scent me a product that isn’t close with the apparent intent to get my money and send me something I don’t want.
This is a classic example of “bait and switch.” In addition, you state:
NO RETURN NEEDED INSTANT REFUND POLICY. Who does that? We do. After being in business for over 10 years we figured out it’s the only way to successfully and ethically run this business.
And yet, even though I clearly gave you an opportunity to make it right by sending the correct scent, which any scent expert would know does not match and would realize by my description that the scent provided that you market as “Body Shop Wood Musk Type” is clearly either an an honest error or a deliberate deception, based on your company response most reasonable people would conclude the latter as no expert perfumer in good conscious could claim this scent resembles in any way what you advertised.
In short, neither the scent nor your claim to provide an “Instant” refund have been realized.
Please refund my purchase per your policy by close of business Monday, June 10th.
Respectfully,
Me
https://www.ftc.gov/news-events/topics/truth-advertising
We shall see what happens. If they don’t refund, I’ll request a refund through Paypal. I’m also filing a complaint with the FTC.

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Patreon Official Subreddit Series Wiki Royal Road
Two items — a crystal ball, and a green leather-bound notebook — sat benignly and idly atop of the black-robed professor’s desk.
The camera lingered on them, giving them what most may see as an undeserved moment in the spotlight.
But to those that knew, to the parties invested in this controversy, this little pause and dramatic zoom-in was accompanied by a hair-raising excitement… along with an untempered nervousness for what was to come.
It definitely caused the investigative duo on the other side of the screen some pause for thought; prompting them to stand intently, pondering both the orb and the notebook.
Ilunor, as far as I could tell, was entranced by the green notebook in particular. Though it wasn’t a trance born out of any positive emotion, but instead, one of abject horror.
“Recommended Reading Materials for the Studious Student.” Sorecar announced with a steady breath, prompting Ilunor to visibly flinch in his seat, as the man reached a finger over to point at the hand-scrawled title of the leather-bound notebook. That finger soon found itself carefully manipulating its pages, opening the cover first, before turning over the internal dust-cover to reveal letters and symbols written in High Nexian, but arranged in a manner the EVI simply could not translate.
“Error: Unable to Translate. Cause: Unrecognized and/or unintelligible organization of local script-forms.”
Yet despite this, it seemed as if both Sorecar and the Apprentice were able to draw something from its otherwise senseless pages. As despite being written haphazardly, with letters and pictograms arranged in no meaningful order, they were able to still draw meaning where the EVI couldn’t.
“Within these pages lie materials for the studious student. Materials are to be found within The Library, and are to be retrieved with great haste. May you make swift work of their contents, and may those after you find only ash in your wake. Seek, unlearn, and remove from the grip of the eternal entity, that which was once a gift but is now a curse. Seek, unlearn, and remove; with the fires of your passion, oh studious student.” Sorecar read aloud, managing to read something verbatim from the nonsensical pages of the book.
Ilunor’s eyes were practically glazed over at this point, as he began bringing his cape over across his chest, tucking his legs towards his chin in the process.
“This is it.” The apprentice announced with a half-cracked smile. “Please, keep going. I’m certain your skills of appraisal far exceed my own, Professor.”
Sorecar obliged by flipping the page, turning over to two pages of complete gibberish, once again watermarked by the EVI’s error message; but proving no challenge at all for the ever-inquisitive professor.
“Section One, A Tainted Reality: A Wretched Collection of Historical Affidavits During the Reconciliation and Reformation of Otherwise Lost Realities.” Sorecar paused, before turning towards the apprentice. “It lists an entire section’s worth of books, in titles held within spatial positions with reference to their potentialities within the ever-evolving library.”
Thacea’s features visibly flinched at that revelation, but similar to the apprentice in the footage, she refused to comment. At least not for now. Her eyes however betrayed a look of mild distress, which subsided somewhat as the apprentice urged the armorer to continue.
Which he did, as he flipped from page to page across the relatively small notebook, only pausing to read in between what he interpreted to be different sections and ‘chapters’.
“Section Two. The Unspoken War and the Treacherous Alliance.”
“Section Three. All surviving works from Alaroy Rital.”
The apprentice cocked her head, as if trying to recall some familiarity in that name. “Alaroy Rital.” She repeated. “I don’t recall hearing of such a name before.”
“Well his full name, as far as I recall, and vastly aided by the book is as follows: Alaroy Rital, Lord-Mayor of the Township of the Two Rivers, Slayer of the Dragon of the Grey Canyon, Repeller of the Tainted Blight of the Orsin, Liberator of the Aether, and Grand Master of the Elusian Guild Hall of Adventurers.” Sorecar responded succinctly, prompting the apprentice to once more clench her eyes shut in deep thought, before finally letting out a sigh of defeat.
“The name is both familiar yet foreign at the same time.” She finally admitted.
“As far as I recall, and mind you, my memory of those years are far from perfect… the man was a local hero of sorts. Though his record was besmirched by some controversy or another.” Sorecar offered, prompting the apprentice to finally shrug, giving up on this particular subject matter entirely.
“There are more sections, yes?”
“Correct.”
“Then let’s move on.”
Sorecar nodded promptly at that, flipping the pages over until he hit the next section.
“Section Four. A Sordid Account of the Most Bizarre of Newrealmer Arrivals: A Death By Harmonization and the Ensuing Investigation.”
That immediately got my attention, causing me to jolt forwards, prompting the armor to quickly follow as it automatically switched from the currently active in-armor-postural-readjustment mode, and back into its active configuration.
“Section Five. The Unfortunate Procedures Against Unruly Realms and the Instances in Which Such Procedures Were Incurred.”
The armorer paused after that, not necessarily due to its contents, but as if puzzled by what lay ahead in the next few final pages. In fact, he flipped back and forth between the pages soon after that, treading and retreading what were effectively the last five pages of the book. “There is an appendix which includes titles not covered by these sections, however it will take some time to read through them.”
“That’s enough for now, professor.” The apprentice offered, prompting the man to quickly pull back, closing the notebook with an unsatisfying thump. “We have our glowing wand.” The apprentice surmised. “The oeuvre of works which are no doubt the subject of this grand controversy. Now all we need to find is the contract which ties everything together.”
“I’m assuming you haven’t forgotten about our second item of interest?” Sorecar gestured towards the crystal ball.
“Of course not, professor. However, the fact we’ve found that book implies that we must be close to its dependent article.” The apprentice responded with a renewed sense of urgency, as she began using that same ornate magnifying glass in an attempt to further pick apart each and every nook and cranny of Mal’tory’s desk.
Part of me wanted to make some joke about how this was every unpaid intern’s dream, to be rummaging through your boss’ stuff.
But that part of me was completely buried underneath the confusion and dread that came with the revelations from within that little green book.
I… honestly didn’t know what I was expecting, but I felt like I’d been suckerpunched, with the wind being knocked right out of me from the implications of exactly what had been selectively purged from the library.
It was a struggle to process it all, which more or less made me dull out the more eccentric aspects of the apprentice’s investigation; as she unlocked drawer after drawer, pulling out pile after pile of magical nicknacks and more documents than what was possible from that finite amount of space.
Sorecar was clearly of the same opinion as the rest of us right now however, as he continued obsessing over the book, his hands once more trailing over to inspect its cryptic pages. The man seemed transfixed on the second and third sections in particular, though his featureless visor made it difficult to really pin down what his reactions were.
Yet throughout all of this, it was clear the reactions on the homefront were much, much more animated, as Ilunor was just about ready to pass out from the stress, and Thacea seemed about ready to burst at the seams if her featureless facade was of any indication.
“That was the book.” Ilunor finally chimed out, just as the narration through the recording had died down during the more tepid phase of the apprentice’s investigation. “I know it.”
“I thought your memories when it came to the whole Mal’tory book burning situation was lost, Ilunor?” Thalmin countered.
“It was. I mean, it still is. But I remember parts of that room. I vaguely recall the emergence of a book that I was forced to…” The Vunerian trailed off, as if struggling to piece together words.
“... to sign?” Thalmin offered in a surprisingly helpful tone which stood at odds with how he earlier regarded the Vunerian.
“No. No you imbecil-” The Vunerian paused, realizing his misstep as he backtracked from what would’ve otherwise been an expected response. “That wasn’t a book of binding. It’s not comparable to the yearbook, if that was where your assumptions were leading to, Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor clarified, gripping the armrests of his seat tight between his fingers.
It was about this point in time that I expected Thacea to chime in, to elaborate on the nature of the book with her encyclopedic knowledge on seemingly every aspect of the magical world.
But she didn’t.
Instead, her eyes remained practically glued to the screen, as I realized that whatever had been revealed thus far had hit much, much harder than I could’ve imagined.
Ilunor, as if taking note of this silence, elected to fill in for Thacea. “The book… is an adjacent artifact. It is, as the apprentice has noted, an eclectic oeuvre of works, a list if you will, to be bound to and referenced by a contract and a spell of binding. The book itself isn’t the binding agent, moreso the reference material by which the contract is hinged upon.”
“So what’s with the illegible text? Are they ciphers or some magical equivalent of it?” I gestured once more at the bird’s eye view offered by the drone, and the pages of indecipherable text currently beneath Sorecar’s hands.
“Those are anchor runes, earthrelamer.” Ilunor answered with a frustrated sigh. “It is frustrating to see them for what they are not. Frankly, it’s as if your sight-seers and memory-shards were designed to mimic the world as it is seen through the eyes of a particularly weak-fielded commoner.” The Vunerian went off, venting his frustrations through a rant before finally calming down. “But I digress. Those runes are referred to as anchors for a reason. For tethered to them are akin to pages of text to be openly read and deciphered within the manastreams. Granted, this form of writing is not common; moreso used for the purposes of contracts and other such magical binds.”
“And on the topic of contracts. I’m assuming that the contract… your contract, is what the Apprentice is currently rummaging for?” I gestured towards the screen once more, at the apprentice who was now buried ankle-deep in piles upon piles of books, documents, and an assortment of scrolls that criss-crossed across the room’s mahogany and carpeted floors.
“Unless she’s a complete nitwit, then I’d imagine so, yes.” Ilunor responded with his signature cattiness. “In any case, the fact she’s even trying proves that she’s barely above a fool anyways.” The Vunerian shrugged. “And before you ask, earthrealmer, let me preempt your question. The contract, at least on the professor’s end, has more than likely suffered the same fate as my own. Namely, its existence is more than certain to be dubious at best. What the apprentice will surely find will be nothing more than ash at the bottom of that bottomless drawer. Which… given its sheer size and scale, and the potential inhabitants within its limitless confines, will more than likely result in even ash being difficult if not impossible to find.”
There was… more than one point I wanted to raise with Ilunor’s statements. However, before I could address any of them, the elf in question finally spoke up once more; now surrounded by an entire archive’s worth of documents and nicknacks.
“Nothing.” Larial spoke with a sullen breath, taking a moment to steady herself as she made a point of not sitting on Mal’tory’s chair. “At least nothing that’s relevant to our case.” She continued, resting her palms flat against the green suede of the desk.
“Were you really expecting anything different, Apprentice?” Sorecar countered, having since moved from pondering the pages of the book to now pondering the depths of the crystal ball.
“I’d assumed the damage to the man hadn’t been so severe.” Larial admitted, alluding to something else that drew all of our collective attention. “When I first saw him in the healing ward… he looked… intact. You couldn’t even tell there was anything wrong with him.”
“And yet they called you of all people, to aid in the ritual.” The armorer surmised, with a tone of voice that now more resembled that of a fully fledged Academy Professor. His happy go lucky persona had subsided completely, at least for now, as he addressed Larial in a manner more akin to what I’d expected of the Dean. “You have been around the Academy for long enough to understand that calling upon the aid of apprentices is unprecedented. Which means that despite how things may seem on the surface, that lurking beneath the seemingly calm waters, is a hydrostorm of epic proportions.”
“This entire situation is unprecedented, professor.” Larial countered meekly. “But you are correct. It… must have been desperate if they required the aid of apprentices. I just… cannot fathom the fact that the professors must have…” The apprentice trailed off, her face scrunching up and breaking eye contact with the armorer as if too skittish to broach the next point.
Sorecar didn’t reply, nor did he complete her sentence for her, simply allowing her to recuperate and reorganize her thoughts herself.
“... brought the man back from the brink.” She managed out, offering what was in effect a euphemism that didn’t seem to sit right with the armorer, if his immediate head cock was of any indication.
“That is the only way you can explain the complete loss of a contract.” Sorecar reasoned. “You were hoping to find it, despite knowing well that it, amongst the rest of his contracts, have more than likely gone up in flames.” It was around that point that he walked around behind the desk, and reached down into the drawer the apprentice had been searching in. His arm sank impossibly deep, deeper than what should have been physically possible inside of that small and limited space. After a few moments, the man finally brought his hand back up, holding within it what appeared to be fine specks of ash that he allowed to filter back down into the dark depths of the seemingly bottomless drawer. “And there you have it — ash. Most of it has no doubt already been consumed by the bottom-feeders. However, what remains is enough to account for what is perhaps more contracts than most would form in their lives.”
The man stood back up soon after, before once more taking his place at the front of the desk.
“Well, I believe that answers our prior speculations on Auris Ping’s potential relations, contractual or otherwise, with Professor Mal’tory.” Thalmin growled out, punctuating the moment of silence within the footage; which soon continued with a resonant sigh from the apprentice.
“I guess, in a way, I was trying to find the contract not so much because of my assigned task, but because I wanted to perhaps prove to myself that the situation wasn’t as dire as my intuition leads me to believe. The loss of all these contracts can only mean one thing.” Larial paused, once more trying to find the strength inside of her to face whatever facts were self-evident in this case. “The man was lost.” She finally managed out through a shaky breath. “His soul must have departed from his mortal coil. And yet…”
“... and yet he remains.” Sorecar surmised.
“They must have re-tethered it before I arrived that night.” The apprentice shot back. “But I felt nothing different when they asked me to aid in the mana-channeling processes. This whole situation is just…” She sighed, prompting Sorecar to cock his head.
“Unprecedented?”
“Yes.” The apprentice once more admitted, sinking her face into her hands and taking a moment to process it all, more or less falling into the same camp all of us were currently in. “Moreover, it brings up a very disturbing question.”
“Which is?”
“If his soul was truly untethered, even for a split second… how exactly were they able to retether it? Or more specifically, through what means are they using to permanently retether his soul to his mortal coil?”
This question seemed to cause some level of concern from Sorecar, as his answer soon demonstrated. “There are… ways of doing so that aren’t exclusive to being spellbound to armor.” The man offered under a dour breath. “Especially if the body is… fresh, in a manner of speaking. Though it requires the use of-” He stopped, halting himself from going down what was clearly a darkening path. “I apologize for prompting this rather… dark and dreary subject matter, Apprentice.” Sorecar offered, as that empathetic, kinder side of him returned without much prompting.
“It’s quite alright. It… it needed to be said, if we are to complete this investigation with any degree of professionalism.” The apprentice concluded with a small smile. “Whatever the case may be, it is clear that we are unable to procure the contract through which the perpetrator of the library’s burning was bound. We have, however, undeniable proof of Professor Mal’tory’s involvement with the scandal.” She pointed at the green notebook. “And of course, a potential interloper who may or may not have been a part of this conspiracy; thereby expanding this from a mere Academy matter, to one which could implicate others beyond its walls.” She pointed at the crystal ball. “Have you discovered anything from your observations thus far, Professor?” The apprentice inquired, prompting the man to nod, as he knelt down to eye-level, pondering the orb from desk-height.
“The inherent limitations of the Echovale make it so that it’s near impossible to transcribe anything following the cessation of a communique.” Sorecar began. “Though of course, you knew this, and hoped that because I am perhaps one of the greatest armorers to have ever lived, that I would be able to aid in this impossible endeavor, hmm?” The armorer’s tone of voice had more or less resumed that flighty, happy-go-lucky one I knew him for.
The apprentice, hearing this, could only smile awkwardly in response. “I wouldn’t have put it that… bluntly, professor. But I do indeed have faith in your ability to make the impossible, well… probable, at the least.”
“Hmph! Well, I couldn’t pin a face or a name, but I was able to pin a definite location if that helps.” The man offered.
“Any stray piece of information will help tremendously, professor.”
“The Crownlands.” He answered without a hint of hesitation, prompting the Apprentice to raise both of her brows up high.
“That’s as far as I am able to draw from the residual echoes within the vale.” He tapped at the ball, generating a series of satisfying clinks in the process.
“So the man wasn’t acting alone. Or rather, perhaps he was consulting someone.” The apprentice pondered. “Then again, that final communique could very well be with Lord Lartia—” The apprentice paused, before placing both palms softly across her throat. “—may his soul rest in peaceful slumber.” Following another moment of silence, the apprentice’s hands soon shifted towards the ball. “In any case, if it isn’t Lord Lartia, then who could it possibly be? Maybe we should…” The apprentice suddenly stopped; as if realizing the dangers of diving any deeper into this growing conspiracy. “No.” She quickly corrected herself. “Whatever the case may be, this is probably now completely out of my purview. I was assigned to collect any evidence I deemed to be relevant to recent happenings, and I believe this should suffice.”
“Whatever you believe is best, apprentice.” Sorecar acquiesced, prompting the apprentice to slowly, but surely, pack the archive’s worth of documents, books, and scrolls all back into the drawer using nothing but telekinetic spells.
This left just the crystal ball, and the little green book, both of which the apprentice promptly pocketed into a small pouch, before placing it somewhere beneath her cloak.
“Though on that note…” Sorecar began, pointing towards the apprentice’s cloak. “If I may ask, how do you plan on divvying up these finite pieces of evidence?”
This caught the apprentice off-guard, as her mouth opened, but no response came through.
“Moreover, are you even obligated to hand in this evidence? Or are you only expected to write a report to all parties involved?” Sorecar continued, pressing the matter further, causing the apprentice to stop mid-stride. “Because if primary evidence isn’t explicitly required, might I offer my services as a master forger?” The man spoke with a hint of mischievousness, the duality of the word perhaps translating equally well despite the language barrier.
“I may need to contact my superiors to ask if a… copy will be satisfactory to their needs. I believe not, but… we shall see. In any case, I am due to submit the evidence along with my report no later than the end of next week. As such, this should give me ample time to organize my findings, which is especially convenient given the roster of duties I am expected to cover over the next few days.” The apprentice took a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose, halting her rambles as she steadied herself with a sigh. “But I digress, I believe I will take you up on that offer, Professor Pliska.”
“It would be my pleasure to welcome you into my domain, apprentice.”
The rest of the footage consisted of small talk between the pair, with nothing in particular standing out as the topics being addressed soon turned from high-stakes espionage, and back into faculty banter.
Yet despite that, none of us broke the silence that now dominated the boring trip back. Not even as the footage came to a complete stop, and there was nothing more left to play.
I leaned back against the armor, eliciting a series of creaks from the couch below me, echoing across the high-ceilinged room and disrupting the tentative peace that came with this ominous silence.
“This explains… a lot.” Thalmin offered, finally breaking the silence with a tentative tone of voice. “It explains your contract, and its abrupt cessation.” He continued, turning towards Ilunor. “It explains Mal’tory, or at least, his current lack of public appearances. And it reveals to us exactly what he was trying to hide from you, Emma.” The lupinor eventually turned towards me. “And I think the sections of the library, selectively pruned, are self-explanatory as well.”
“Section four, and section five, at least.” I replied shortly thereafter. “I have no idea who or what Alaroy Rital has to hide in section three, and don’t even get me started on section two, let alone section one.” It was at that point that I turned towards Thacea, who let out a sharp exhale upon me bringing up section one.
“The removal of all information relevant to… and I quote — Tainted Realities — speaks volumes to the inherent fears of the Nexus. Though I know not what specifically they may fear from your discovery of its deep and now-lost lore.” Thacea offered through a pensive gaze. “There are many rumors, legends that come with the phrase Tainted Reality. Though most are mythical; epics of long lost eras that dwell between the blurry line that exists between history and legend. Perhaps the records within the library were pieces of irrefutable evidence that would’ve shed light on this nebulous subject matter. But even so… that begs the question… why? Why would they hide what is effectively a non-issue when it comes to your discovery of its lore? Taint, and more specifically, the concept of a Tainted Reality, is something that is inconsequential in the contemporary world. Its history, even if it proves to be true, is neither a disruptive political element, nor a practical tool for war, that could be used in countering the Nexus.” The avinor’s explanations were clear, concise, and yet they belied something personal that she clearly wasn’t broaching.
And I wasn’t about to dig either, not when this topic very clearly hit close to home for her.
“This leaves the second subject matter then.” I offered, giving the avinor an off-ramp towards a potentially more palatable topic.
“The Unspoken War and the Treacherous Alliance?”
“Correct.” I nodded.
“That… I have no knowledge of.” The avinor admitted, prompting me to turn to both the lupinor and the Vunerian for answers.
“Don’t look at me, earthrealmer, I’m the one who lost all memories on the subject, remember?” Ilunor countered.
“I’m afraid I’m as in the dark as you are on this one, Emma.” Thalmin replied with a loud huff, leaving me with perhaps more questions than answers at this point.
“Right then.” I nodded. “Well, regardless, as disquieting, confusing, and disturbing as these revelations have been, they are exactly that — revelations.” I took a moment to stand up, resting both hands on my hips, as if adopting Ilunor’s more theatrical approach to things. “We started today off with no intel on Mal’tory, with no idea how we were going to complete The Library’s Seekership questline, and no knowledge on exactly where we stood in this game. We’re ending today off with a firm grasp on exactly what we need to do, what exactly was scorched in the library, and a tentative understanding on Mal’tory’s fate. I’d say that’s an incredible step forward, even if the answers we now have are leading to even more questions.”
“Reality is often filled with disturbing truths, but only when we acknowledge them, can we act to change them.” Thacea offered.
“Here here!” Thalmin reaffirmed through a firm stomp, standing up tall and ready.
“While certain revelations come as disappointments… namely the survival of Professor Mal’tory… it is indeed somewhat satisfying to hear that the man is at the very least suffering for his actions.” The little thing spoke maliciously, as he too stood up. This prompted a look of worry to form amidst all three of us, but instead of reacting accordingly, he instead displayed an expression of confusion. “What? The man was a monster! He actively antagonized not only me, but this entire group! Surely you also feel at least some sense of satisfaction at the consequences of his actions catching up to him!”
“The delight in an enemy’s defeat, best comes from the resistance of the blade against his body. Not from the suffering incurred from happenstance.” Thalmin countered, whilst Thacea and I refused to entertain that line of thought, as I quickly placed a palm across my forehead, bonking it once again in the process.
“Right, well, here’s the game plan. We now have a clear target to complete our first objective — the notebook. We grab that, hand it in to the library, and presto, we accomplish the Seekership questline. Now comes the difficult part… how exactly do we do that?” I turned to the group, as offers and suggestions finally came flying in.
“Take advantage of your life debt?” Ilunor offered.
“I wouldn’t take advantage of that card just yet, Ilunor. Not if we have other options.” Thacea countered.
“What if we steal it?” Thalmin proposed.
“Thievery isn’t a diplomatic approach, Thalmin.” Thacea shot back with a glare.
“Well, Emma here was able to grapple her way, through manaless means, across the outside of the castle towards the apprentice whilst she was in the medical wing. I’m sure we can pull something else off in a similar capacity!” The lupinor countered.
“No, Thalmin. As much as I would like to try, I believe it might be best if we try a more diplomatic approach.” I offered, prompting the three to cock their heads.
“We could just ask, right?”
First Previous Next
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(Author’s Note: And there we have it! The first step towards the completion of the Library's questline! We've found exactly what we were looking for, the list of books that were ordered to be put to the dragon flame by Mal'tory. With that being said however, a new series of questions arises... exactly why were these books targeted in particular? Moreover, what exactly was lost as a result? These questions and more will continue to linger in the back the gangs' minds as we push forward! Especially as we now find ourselves in the midst of another conundrum, exactly how are we going to get the book to the library! Regardless, this is still a massive step forward, and one that will surely bring Emma and Ilunor closer towards addressing the first phase of their intertwined fates with the library! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Two Chapters are already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 84 and Chapter 85 of this story is already out on there!)]

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Aspiring Major: Mechanical Engineering
Demographics: White, Out-Of-State, Mid-Low Income ● Hooks: First-Gen, ROTC, Underrepresented State, Rural Resident, <50% Race at School
Stats: - 11 APs: Psych, Seminar, Lang, Push, World, Physics, Lit, Calc BC, CSP, Research (Capstone), American Gov (Possible Self-Study PreCalc, Stats, CSA to make 14, or 15 w/ Physics CMech) by graduation - 3 CCs: Elementary Spanish I, PreCalc, Stats (Possibly taking INFO#### (PreReQ), Java I w/ AP CSA, CPP I & II to make 7 CCs by graduation) - 12 Honors by graduation - GPA: 3.75UW / 4.5W - PreACT (Freshman): 29Math/30Sci/30Eng/24Read - MAP Math/Read (Freshman): 282/255 - ALEKS Math Placement (Sophomore): 85%
Extracurriculars: - ● Instruments & Composition: - Passionate Multi-Instrumentalist (Drum Set, Piano, Guitar, Cello) and Composer - Wrote, led, and performed a Marimba Duet that won 1st place and an "Outstanding Ensemble" award at local Solo-Ensemble Festival, and a Superior Rating (I) at a District Music Contest, being recognized and commended by judges. - 1x Music Letter (only offered at prior school), Percussion Section Leader, teaching incoming Freshman instruments and nurturing their abilities - Jazz Drummer and Pianist, awarded "Outstanding Solo" on each at State Jazz Festival. Also played guitar and bass guitar in Jazz Band. - Attended, auditioned, and performed at a Jazz Camp at [college], a reputable college with an international jazz program endorsed by many legendary jazz figures/groups such as The Count Basie Jazz Orchestra, Gordan Goodwin's Big Phat Band, and The Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra. - Freelance Musician and Composer for various online projects, primarily in the video game industry. - Music used in two indie films, with one being presented at [state] State Thespian Festival, and winning an award with recognition. - ● TheateMusical: - Inducted Honor Thespian to the National Thespian Society - Played notable supporting roles in Plays and Broadway Musicals, as well as filled tech positions primarily in the design aspect of the production (graphics/publicity, scenery) - Improv Team that competed at State - ● VEX Robotics: - State Finalist Freshman Year - Nationals Runner-Up
Activities: - ● Community: - Speech Campaign: spoke at 6 Schools across the state, 500+ listeners. Posters put up at each, advocating for a break in social norms. Surveyed school and gathered all data for a presentation and medalled at state for an FCCLA STAR Event. - Gave a motivational speech on MLK Day about chasing your dreams that was televised and recognized by the Mayor. - The Pink Lemonade Project: Indie Film+Book project where I created the music as well as designed the videography + video editing, lighting, locations, Characters, and assistance in Story and script writing. This project aimed to expose a local summer camp and the effects of a toxic authoritarian system via abuses and etc. - ● General: - Volunteered at a company that designs, creates, and tests Brewing Machinery internationally - CPR and AED Certified - I intend to commit to the military w/ ROTC Scholarship on a 4-6 year contract following graduation/obtaining desired degree - Non-Competitive Powerlifting, 300 Wilks Score - ● Programming & Roblox: - Self-Taught Luau/Lua5.5+, Python, C/C++, Type/Javascript, Haxeflixel, CSS, very minor html - At the age of 10, I had my own business that operated on Twitter, creating 3D Graphics (via Blender, Photoshop, and After Effects) for individuals and games, such as wallpapers, profile icons, and thumbnails. I then transitioned to a broad spectrum of skills acquired through the passion of game creation on Roblox - Formerly a Lead Developer for an indie game studio known as '[studio]', which was a project known for creating fun games for children, that gathered 1 million group members, and over 75 million game plays through a platform known as Roblox. These games generated a collective $70KUSD over the course of their popularity combined (20% of revenue was cycled back as advertisement funding). Through this community that was developed, we were able to raise over $6.5KUSD to help fund small indie projects from other smaller development groups. - Among many other games I created music for, one in particular is worth noting: 'Doors', amassing 4.9 Billion plays since 2021, has reached the screen of nearly every kid that is playing video games today. - Collaborated with popular online celebrities (YouTube, TikTok) on making games and experiences for their communities, some of which have billions of views and millions of followers. - I am a contributed developer to other popular games and projects with 2.6 Billion collective plays. I fulfilled various roles in these projects, such as game design, Front and Back-End programming (Luau/Lua 5.5+ & Typescript), 3D Artwork/Video Animation (using programs Blender, Photoshop, Premiere Pro/Sony Vegas, and After Effects), Music Design, Character & Object Animation, Architecture, and Voice Acting. Many of these games are a major source of income for the developers involved, such as "My Restaurant!" (of which I did 3D & 2D graphic design for), a game with ~800M plays, created by a studio known as BIG Games, which is the highest grossing development group on the platform. I connected to these groups and Studios through the Roblox Dev Forum, a company known as "Hidden Developers", Twitter, and my personal website. Through these projects, I nurtured my passion to create, and developed several solo passion projects for my own personal enjoyment. - Bug Tested various other games over several years, solving issues for experiences that went on to have hundreds of thousands of concurrent players. I am also a former member of the Official Roblox QA Team (before it was disbanded), which tested upcoming features to the platform. I have since been very active on their Developer Forum, helping all creators (young and old) solve issues and create awesome games. - Although my game development has slowed, I am currently working on a large game that will show the hardship of Schizophrenia and Social Outcasting through intricate storytelling. I intend to release this game on multiple platforms, such as Steam. - Created a Roblox Plug-in that detects Backdoors and vulnerabilities within games, preserving user data and game integrity. This plug-in has been used by nearly 300 developers thus far. - Created my own file syncing program using C++ via Visual Studio Code, that analyzes computer folders for identical information and can delete it or sync data from one folder to another (if not identical). This program has been used by my friends, but I did not publish it online. - Created a Discord Bot with custom commands for the Interbyte Studios Community server (18k members). This application allowed the community to interact and have a recreational token and minigame system for engagement and bonding. This bot was initially created in Python, but was then completely revamped in Javascript via Node.js (with some minor html for some special features.) - Created a customized theme for Canvas and Roblox using the "Stylish" extension, coded in CSS. - Utilizing BetterDiscord, I created my own lock screen for the Discord application to protect my computer from siblings and/or any environment I am working in. This came with a customized theme among other features, such as a built-in Spotify controller (play/pause, skip, and tuning into what others are listening to), and it synced up with my Discord Bot in my own server, allowing me to see the statistics (account age, user ID, etc.), and possible rule infractions of a given user within the community. This was coded in Javascript (Node.js), CSS, and HTML (for embedding purposes). This served to speed up the moderation and disciplinary side of my community, but also improve the efficiency of the Discord application.
Awards & Honor Groups: - x2 Academic Letter, Top PreACT at School - Outstanding Solo-Ensemble Award w/ 1st Place for self-composed, led, and performed Marimba Duet - Superior (1) Rating at District Music Contest for Marimba Duet - x1 Music Letter (only offered at former school) - Outstanding Jazz Soloist Drum Set at State - Outstanding Jazz Soloist Piano at State - Nominated Ambassador of Music (International Program) - All-City Percussion - All-State Jazz & Concert Band Acceptance (Committed to Jazz) - [College w/ International Jazz Program] Jazz Band Performer - State Finalist VEX Robotics (Freshman) - Nationals Runner-Up VEX Robotics (Sophomore) - Honor Thespian
In essays I hope to write about my aspirations to create The Iron Giant and how Robotics is an art. I am also planning to write about how my downfall in Freshman and sophomore years re-shaped the way a school district functions forever, and my recovery and discovery of ambition.
I'd like to know what colleges would accept me (I really want a shot at T30 or so) and what would be good for me. I would also appreciate any and all advice for my resume and what I should do for LORs, or any aspect at all.

https://preview.redd.it/e4fata2zok5d1.png?width=1011&format=png&auto=webp&s=d611e15249ac2b9d13cff7ca7445ee7c5f310dfe
I'm trying to escape my current job and need a refresh on my resume.

Dear RS Book Club,
I want to consult the posters of the sub as you guys are the only erudite yet sane corners of the internet. I have been thinking a lot about the nature of online erudition and how the internet functions as a never ending library where you can follow however many rabbitholes as you want. Firstly, I want to address the outside world. Talking to strangers, meeting new people, hearing anecdotal evidence from friends and their co-workers, most people don't read. a lot of people, at least below 30 seem to be very intellectually uncurious with men not reading at all and women reading lowbrow smut to contemporary lit-fic to 19th century classics. If you go to college, as I just graduated (i apologize for being annoying) you talk with you classmates and you realize a lot of people are unknowledge and ahistorical, don't really care about what we're learning ( i cant blame them ) but its just kind of sad when you have a real curiousity that lights a fire within you to explore topics.
Compare this to the online sphere where you actually can find people that are curious, knowledgable, and discuss the things you are interested in. You find forums like goodreads or reddit where people post and discuss topics in depth, you find the twitter pages of earnest academics posting about their beloved research topics, you go on /lit/ to see people insult each other about their unblemished penguin classics spines and their interpretations of rene guinon. However, with the online sphere you find a weird pattern. I am not really sure how to describe but I guess it would be like intellectual hipsterism. In the same way that 00s hipsters on music blogs were obsessed with crate digging for rare indie records, or avant-garde and difficult expirimental pop music, the motivating force is novelty, to be the first on a wave, to be the person that differentiates themselves by having a developed taste for difficult works. That same motivating force is applied to literature and philosophy.
I find this to be an interesting development. You have quite a lot of people for various reasons online finding an interest in the humanities, whether they skipped out on college completely or (rightly) treated college as a trade school to obtain a credential in the job market rather than a place of humanistic education. But these auto-didacts are attracted to weirdness, to novelty, to difficulty, to impenetrable erudtion. Walter Benjamin linked Snobbishness and Novelty in the Arcades Project. If you were to never take a philosophy class and spent your time online you would thing Gilles Delueze would be the most discussed person in any philosophy class because the online sphere enjoys his difficult, obtuse and esoteric writing. I have trouble truly understanding the motivating force behind the popularity of people such as Pynchon, Jung, Deleuze, Evola and other weirdos but I think it has to do with both the novelty of of un-undestood ideas and a barrier-of-entry elitism. I think elitism is good, and this backlash toward "let people enjoy things" turning into "you people cant do anything" is a turn for the better in terms of getting people to produce interesting works of philosophy and art in contemporary times.
Returning back to the day-to-day world, talking about any of these things to other people you will sound literally insane, like you will scare the hoes. You show people you favorite Finnegan's Wake passage and they are like this is stupid and you are only pretending to like it to seem smart. That is where the problem lies I think. The charge of "to seem smart" is the ultimate contrast of online erudite life and the offline world. What exists as a barrier of entry in online spheres ("read spinoza and nietzsche to understand deleuze" or "start with the greeks" or "have you heard neutral milk hotel") becomes completely flipped in real life because there is very little intellectual curiousity to be found with most people.
(Another thing is the whole adoption of reading "Great Books" as a part of self-help and self-improvement culture, of course this obsession with tradtion tied to self-improvment is uniquely online-right adjacent whereas the opposing left wing crowd is saying they have adhd and cant focus because they picked up fucking Deleuze as their 20 minutes of reading before bed.) I apologize for bringing culture war into this
What I think will result from this online culture of a small group of esoteric readers will be what i call "'Digital Spinozas". While Spinoza was kicked out of Jewish, Catholic, and Protestant intellectual community in the Dutch Repbulic for Heresy, he chose to a select group of similarly minded people that he could trust, to write letters to and have the dicussions in private as opposed to the intellectual public sphere. What has now seperated online intellectuals from public life is of course a complete indifference, what (i hope) will happen is the production of philosophical, poetic, and literarly works in private, shared among online friends, to communities, to be spread among these niches, enjoyed privately and selected as to be appreciated the snobbish hipsters of these erudite communities.
I apologize greatly for the wall fo text, I drank and lot of coffee this morning.
Sincerly,
u/unwnd_leaves_turn

^{This is a repost with new info, corrections and better formatting. Thanks for previous contributions! <3}
I've seen quite a few "All lost My Chemical Romance songs" and "My Chemical Romance rarities" posts, but they mostly all either:

A: Conflate "Lost" with "Rare" or "Not studio-produced" B: Aren't Sourced C: Incomplete D: Have disinfo E: Mistakenly include working titles for later released tracks as "lost"

So, here we go! I've gotten most of my info from a few archives and long-time fans in the community but I would love to hear any additions you have to add! The more eyes the better!

For clarity: Bullets = I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love Revenge = Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge LOTMS = Life on the Murder Scene TBP = The Black Parade TBPID = The Black Parade Is Dead! DD = Danger Days CW = Conventional Weapons TPK = The Paper Kingdom MDNSY = May Death Never Stop You

^{Tracks are listed in supposed creation order, then by discovery or release} Nine Volt Heart ^aka Android [..?] - Song title found in now-lost Flash player elements of My Chemical Romance's official site going back to at least 5/25/2002. According to a 2011 text interview by Cassie The Venomous with Gerard and Mikey, the song was played once live at NJ's Loop Lounge to bad reactions from the band and poor fanfare and as a result shelved from future releases. Later possibly reworked into an unreleased song named "'Android...' something?". Though according to a 2004 post by SpaceyRaygun, a long-time friend of the band, Nine Volt Heart was instead reworked onto a Revenge track. ^{Fandom rumors going back to at least 5/3/2006 claim Nine Volt Heart was a cover of the Smashing Pumpkins' song Bodies albeit with slightly different lyrics. Although the poster's source songmeanings.net has since taken down the potentially false lyrics page.}
The Attic Demos ^aka Dreams ^\of/about]) Stabbing and/or Being Stabbed - A CD Distributed at early shows and among the band's circle. Later partially released on 2014's MDNSY, though these demos circulated the fandom pre-2014 from these promotional CDs.

Wish You Away ^aka Drowning Lessons Rough Mix - If community sources are to be believed (1) (2) (3) (4)) (5) a variant of The Attic Demos distributed among friends and family of the band contains recordings of 'Vampires Will Never Hurt You' titled "Stabbing" and 'Drowning Lessons' titled "Wish You Away" (Pre-release titles corroborated by the early instances of My Chemical Romance's website).
Stabbing ^aka Vampires Will Never Hurt You Demo - Found as of July 23rd, 2022. Demo released via Instagram from for Bullet's 20th anniversary. This CD was given to Nada Recording in 2002 prior to their recording of Bullets. Clip is partially cut off and downloaded through Instagram API.
Early Sunsets Over Monroeville Demo - An Attic Demo found by SpaceyRaygun with an Early Sunsets Over Monroeville recording not included on MDNSY. Included in notable bootlegs such as Self-titled MP3 Collection released 2010. ~Fake demo debunked by (Friend of Matt Pelissier) and SpaceyRaygun (The track's original source).

Sister to Sleep - One of the earliest songs written for Revenge, revealed in a 2003 interview as conceptualized for The Freddy vs. Jason Soundtrack before licensing fell through. It was re-conceptualized around The Sandman series of comics, where sleep is anthropomorphized as the titular Sandman, and his sister as Death. In its released form, the lyrics explore sleep as an analogy for death and themes of insomnia and institutionalization. Ultimately, the track was cut from release by producer Howard Benson. Two live recordings (1) (2) of this song have circulated the fandom for a number of years, with one found more recently all from the same show played in NYC's the Knitting Factory on 6/26/2003. On 10/17/2022, it was played once more in Inglewood during the RETURN Tour, albeit slightly different lyrics. Later, Frank spoke on a 2023 interview about using live footage for practice, likely explaining the difference in lyrics. In 2013 the band had stated in an interview potentially none of the members still possessed a copy of Sister to Sleep's demo recording (A claim still supported by Frank in a 2022 interview) except possibly for a soundcheck library recording Mikey was given from the Knitting Factory show. With renewed interest in the song, Matt Pelissier was asked via Twitter about the track. ^{If community sources \}1]) ^\2]) ^{are to be believed, a Twitter user "Martin" asked Gerard the whereabouts and existing number of these demos, Gerard would share that they lost the only existing copy moving from coast to coast a number of years ago. Martin then asked Matt about the demos to corroborate Gerard's story, which prompted Matt to reveal more info.} Matt claimed he was given an additional copy of Sister to Sleep, as were all of the band members, their studio and their label. Fans supposedly questioned his demo's legitimacy. (1) (2) (3) Matt then posted three 15 second clips of the track to his Instagram. These clips were DMCA claimed by Warner and Matt was threatened with potential legal action if he continued copyright violations. However, fans downloaded these clips before they were taken down. (1) (2) Afterwards, Matt was asked via text conversations by his Revenir bandmate u/dansplayslol11 after hearing the track if he still intended on leaking it. Matt explained that he didn't intend on releasing them being content as the apparent sole owner of the demo.

Manhattan Demos ^aka A-Demos - In 2013 the band had stated in an interview Sister to Sleep's studio recording existed on the "Manhattan Demos" or "A-Demos" as Ray called them that also contained demo material later released on LOTMS. Screenshots of other production tracklists around this time have also been leaked and released by several sources including Revenge producer Howard Benson. (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

I'm Not Okay (I Promise) Demo - A 1 minute 4 second Clip of an I'm Not Okay demo uploaded by the YouTube channel AJ Serna in 2012 which contains the line "And never mind the drugs you took" instead of Revenge's release version "The photographs your boyfriend took" with notably worse recording quality. ^{This lyric was likely remnants from when the song served as the conclusion to the album with a spoken word outro by Daryl Palumbo \}Of Glassjaw, Head Automatica] and is more in-line with) ^{early production takes of the song.}
Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge Instrumentals - Instrumental versions of all 13 original Revenge tracks can be heard as backing tracks for the duration of LOTMS. Never released as a stand-alone instrumental promotional album unlike TBP.
Someone Out There Loves You - Released as a live performance on the official TBPID DVD as Track 30 with a live video. Unofficially titled 'Stay' by fans before its official title was revealed by Gerard on Twitter. Frank revealed in an interview with The Music that the song had a studio demo but "lyrical reservations" prevented its release.
MCRBlog 09' Demos - Throughout 2009, the band would post an occasional series titled 'Practice Cam' where they'd take photos and videos of whiteboards containing song titles. Fans like Cassie the Venomous were able to decipher some of these titles, and later corroborate them with at-the-time newly released live performances. (What was initially titled 'Siren Song' as a live performance eventually released as 'AMBULANCE', ect.) However, some of these teased titles never received accompanying live material. These include:

"Still Alive" ^\Also detailed in) ^{this interview.\}) "Teenage Girl" "Pretty [..?]" "Monster Jam" ^\This could be in reference to the video game 'Monster Jam: Masters of Mayhem' of which 'I'm Not Ok)' ^{appeared as an in-game track})^.\)

Hell Hath No Fury - This track was apparently credited to My Chemical Romance (1) (2) for 2012's The Man With The Iron Fists but never appeared on the movie's soundtrack. ^{It's theorized this track midway through the film is a snippet of the track.}
The Paper Kingdom - Proceeding DD's touring cycle, the My Chemical Romance began work on their 5th studio record before scrapping the album due to burnout, depression and unhealthy habits. (1) (2) Some of this material was likely posted by a user named Excalibur and sold for $10k+ on the leaked music website Leaked.cx in late September 2022. Snippets of these tracks with added auditory watermarks were provided by the leaker for legitimacy from tracks with the filenames "Dark Cloud", "Witch" and "Wake Up!". However, these clips were taken down by Warner both on leaked.cx and on other sites' reposts, likely validating the leak's legitimacy. One track recognized by Warner's automatic content ID system was entitled "Paper Swords" by My Chemical Romance.

The Foundations of Decay Sessions - According to comments by Excalibur made under leaked.cxs TPK leak, they also possessed demo sessions for the My Chemical Romance's 2022 release The Foundations of Decay. It was unclear whether these sessions were also purchased and vaulted alongside TPK's leak by the same or another buyer.

... These aren't exactly "lost", only ^\notable]) live performances with no evidence of official or studio variants: ^{FYI, any of these songs can be heard with a simple YouTube or Internet Archive search \}if I don't already link a primary or secondary source here.)
Everybody Tie Your Shoe - Stage banter on TBP's 2007 tour. Released on the 'Fans of Compilations' bootleg album in 2008.
The Drugs - A scrapped song played live sometime during 2009 during the Summer Sonic Festival. Later never released alongside the other CW-era singles or later DD material. Released as a live track on 'Still Chemical Dependency' bootleg album in 2009.
Everybody Hates the Eagles ^aka Kill Em' All ^aka DD Jam Session - A DD-era Jam Session repurposed for the My Chemical Romance's 2022-2023 tour and given lyrics with a variety of concluding lines rhyming or spinning on the phrase "Everybody Hates the Eagles". (1) (2) (3) (4)
... These aren't in any sense "lost". Some just aren't on streaming services, just obscure or with no official release: ^{FYI, any of these songs can be heard with a simple YouTube or Internet Archive search \}if I don't already link a primary or secondary source here.)
Jack the Ripper (cover) - Live cover of Morrissey's song released on the EP Like Phantoms, Forever in 2002 including live banter, then later released as a cut-down version on the Thank You for the Venom 7" in 2004. ^{Often mistaken for separate live and studio tracks such as mislabeling on the Self-titled MP3 Collection and other MP3 archives.}
Give Em' Hell, Kid Alt. Version - An alternate version of Give Em' Hell, Kid from iTunes.
Under Pressure (cover) - Cover of Queen and David Bowie's song as a collaboration with The Used made for release as a single and a bonus track for The Used's 2004 release 'In Love and Death'.
Astro Zombies (cover) - Cover of Misfits' song released for Tony Hawk's American Wasteland 2005.
I Never Told You What I Do For a Living Demo - Demo track released on LOTMS lyrically and sonically distinct from its Revenge release.
Bury Me in Black - Demo released first as a Japanese Revenge bonus track, later released internationally on LOTMS.
Desert Song - Complete studio track intended for Revenge, released exclusively on LOTMS.
Song 2 (cover) - Cover of Blur's song released on Radio 1's Live Lounge Album in 2006.
The Black Parade Instrumentals - Promotional CDr distributed to advertisers alongside TBP in 2006.
The Black Parade: The B-Sides - Includes My way Home Is Through You, Kill All Your Friends and Heaven Help Us. Released as a stand-alone b-side album in 2009 including bonus tracks released alongside TBP in 2006.
Desolation Row (cover) - Cover of Bob Dylan's song for release with Watchmen (2009) with an accompanying promotional music video set in the Watchmen universe.
All I Want for Christmas Is You (cover) - Cover of Mariah Carey's song for 2009's Christmas compilation album Gift Wrapped: 20 Songs That Keep On Giving.
We Don't Need Another Song About California - Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys iTunes Deluxe bonus track.
Zero Percent - Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys Japanese bonus track.
Sing Single - Radio edit and instrumental single of Sing released in 2010.
The Mad Gear and Missile Kid EP - Collection of songs written during DD's production (Black Dragon Fighting Society being written before DD), intended to be My Chemical Romance's in-universe proxy. Released with DD's 2010 box set and released digitally for the first time in 2022.
Bulletproof Heart Single - Radio edit and instrumental single of Bulletproof Heart released in 2011.
Planetary (GO!) Remixes - Planetary (GO!) single remixes by Lags Gallows & Vasquez/Gorman released in 2011.
Common People (cover) - Cover of Pulp's song for BBC Radio 1, Released on the 2011 The Only Hope For Me Is You EP.
Every Snowflake is Different (Just Like You) - A track made for the show Yo' Gabba Gabba in 2011. Made alongside a music video featured on the show. Notably similar to S/C/A/E/C/O/W and preformed live by My Chemical Romance on tour the same year.
#SINGItForJapan - Full orchestral Japanese instrumental version of SING following earthquakes and tsunamis that devastated Japan in 2011. Released as a single alongside a YouTube upload and merchandise to raise money for Japanese charities.
The Kids from Yesterday Remixes - Australian-exclusive box set released 2012 including remixes from Dan P. Carter, Lags Gallows and Vazquez/Gorman.
Fake Your Death - The first track on May Death Never Stop You and released as a single. Theorized as originally made for TPK. Aside: I hear his VERY widely talked about as a fact, butthe main article citedis mistakenly referencing Gerard's solo work. As likely as this rumor is, there is no evidence.
Black Parade / Living with Ghosts - Black Parade's 10-year anniversary release including a variety of TBP demos both scrapped and reworked onto the 2006 release.
Welcome to the Black Parade (Steve Aoki 10th Anniversary Remix) - Remix of Welcome to the Black Parade by Steve Aoki for TBP's 10th Anniversary.
... Specific thanks to u/mj2000p, u/Tongara, u/danplayslol11, SpaceyRaygun and Party in the affiliated My Chemical Romance Discord for previous edits. To see the edits check out my original post.

Please do not harass or beg band members or those affiliated with the band for unreleased material. Archival efforts are important but many of these songs fall under copyright and/or hold great personal value. Be respectful in reaching out to potential leads.

If anyone has better sources, anything else to correct or add I'd love to add to what I have and will credit.
Thanks for all the help! <3 Happy 20 years to Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge! :3