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I finished this book in around 5/6 days.
Wow. So many great moments and storylines in this book, storylines being resolved even! All great except a few chapters of Elayne in the middle of the book. RJ is back to his old form, with great characterisation and stuff happens for once!?! Unbelievable.
RJ went out with a high!
You can really feel the story torpedoing to Tarmon Gai’don, I can’t wait.
Here are some thoughts on this book:
Nynaeve
Nynaeve loves, trusts, and feels for Lan so much; I can’t help but tear when she rallies for Malkier. Favourite scene of the whole series personally, involving my favourite characters.
“My husband rides from World’s End to Tarwin’s Gap, toward Tarmon Gai’don. Will he ride alone?
CHILLS!!!
Also, give me more Nynaeve, she needs more page time.
Perrin
Great ending to a sometimes lacking storyline (just Faile’s PoV), and it has ended with Perrin being ready for the time ahead with his beloved and the shaido finally disappeared, forever hopefully.
Perrin was so blind to everything but Faile this book. Ignoring the signs of Tarmon Gai’don for the one he loves. This obviously isn’t great, but I understand him; his whole family died and she is the one who filled the gaps in his heart, if she died I doubt Perrin would ever recover from it.
I guess Aram isn’t a darkfriend as I previously speculated, just a man who is very susceptible to being manipulated. An abrupt ending to someone who got introduced in the first book, and later become a reoccurring character. His descent was quite tragic though; died trying to kill the man who helped him get back on his feet many times over just because of one man’s manipulation. Fuck Masema.
Rolan and the other two brotherless’ death was unjustified but I can’t blame Perrin for killing him. Adrenaline pumping through his veins and he sees 3 men standing between him and his wife. It was bound to end in blood. However, while Rolan was a bit of a creep at times he didn’t deserve to die like that after helping Faile. Now that I think about it though, he was sort of trying to steal her from Perrin, Rolan’s death was inevitable.
Tam finally learned that Rand is the dragon reborn, after I think around 3 years. I would have expected he would know by now, but I guess the two rivers is notorious for being secluded.
Perrin and seanchan captain has a quite nice mutual respect for each other, another bridge to seanchan relations has been built.
After all these deaths, failures, and triumphs, Perrin and Faile are finally reunited! I am interested to see where the story goes with them, maybe they will go after Masema?
Mat
Mat is always an enjoyable read, and now he has accepted that he can’t escape his luck and the battlefield, Mat now just tries to work out a way to make as little people die as possible.
I have to talk about Moiraine first of course. She is confirmed to be alive, which I hoped for and expected. However, didn’t expect it to take this many books. I have been waiting to long for this, I missed her so much and I am excited for her to be back hopefully soon.
Mat and Tuon are my second favourite couple so far, after Nynaeve and Lan, they have a great dynamic!
From the start Mat knew that he would marry Tuon, but she was slowly deciphering whether this man was truly who she would marry. She did ask many seemingly random questions which was a big giveaway. The build up was worth it though, she completely confuses Mat by doing it out of the blue and revealing her prophecies from her damane. Hilarious moment!
I feel Tuon growing on me but then I remember that she agrees with slavery and leashing those who can channel. I am conflicted on her, but maybe she will change. We have a love-hate relationship.
Mat, please just go free Moiraine already. Please.
Rand
While he hasn’t had the spotlight for a few books, his chapters are always full of major plot points and revelations which are always great.
Lews Therin is creeping in like a parasite, taking control of the power and Rand even confuses his thoughts with Lews Therin. One lack of control and that could be it for Min or others around him. Disturbing thoughts.
One minute I was watching a lovely wedding between Loial and Erith, the next there is thousands of trollocs outside the window. The juxtaposition is crazy.
The new weaves are really powerful, it can’t be nice for random dead trollocs to appear outside your house though.
Did Semirhage expect to defeat Rand? I think there is some other plot she has. Semirhage went down too easy for that to be her only plan. Potentially trying she is trying manipulate his allies to go to the shadow. Or like many of the forsaken are just arrogant.
Hoping that Rand gets his hand back, I loved Rands swordplay and It will absolutely cause issues. Surely he can use the power to create a fake hand.
Breaks my heart, to see Rand so calm after all he goes through. Poor guy. Cadsuane needs to teach Rand to feel again and quickly!
Seanchan truce incoming. Rand will now see what Mat has been up to while he has been battling the forsaken.
Egwene
Thoroughly enjoyed her political manoeuvrings around the white tower, slowly planting seeds of dissent between the different layers of aes sedai. Egwene is great at scheming and manipulation; she is a genius. Not the best person though.
I have a lot of respect for Egwene. Multiple strappings a day, and she carries on twisting the aes sedai, what a powerhouse!
Egwene is consistently interesting to me, I think she will play a big part over the next few books.
Elayne
Elayne was great late in the book, while lacking a bit at the start.
She was overconfident this book, just because she won’t die any time soon (min’s viewing) doesn’t mean she can’t be captured. It was very reckless to just burst into the BA’s house and expect to live.
I loved Vandene getting her revenge on Careane, what a way to go, her short storyline was amazing. Amazing but tragic.
I found it weird how an aes sedai sent by Elaida just stormed in, said Elayne would regret sending her away and ran off. There had to be something larger going on with her.
Problem after problem kept pilling up, but she dealt with them with resilience and it somewhat worked out. A true queen if I ever saw one.
Other
Rand has caused a whole civilisation to kill themselves. Let’s hope he never finds that out. This was a really horrifying moment, left my mouth open for a while.
Taim is not a forsaken, but just a very high ranking dark friend it seems. He must be very high ranking to know about the lord of chaos. What if he is a newly raised forsaken? Only the forsaken know about the lord of chaos, not regular dark friends. I don’t know how one would raise a darkfriend though, does it come with new abilities or just being closer to the dark one?
RJ is great at the small details however he doesn’t touch upon the slavery stuff, which I find weird. Could just be me though.
Overall
This book ends so many dragging storylines, I can’t wait for the next!
I’m sad this is the last Robert Jordan book, but I’ve heard that Brandon ended it well, I watched a few videos on him and read his eulogy on RJ and he seems very kind and admires RJ a lot. I don’t know how his writing style is though, maybe someone can give me an idea of how it compares to RJ?
It is tragic RJ couldn’t finish his series by himself though, but glad someone was found to finish it.
just don’t mess up Nynaeve Brandon!
I probably missed a lot of plot points but I didn’t want this to be too long, and I want to read the next book already.
Book ranking so far - very susceptible to changing:

1. The Shadow Rising
2. The Fires of Heaven
3. The Lord of Chaos
4. The Dragon Reborn
5. Knife of Dreams
6. The Great Hunt
7. The Eye of the World
8. New Spring
9. A Crown of Swords
10. Winter’s Heart
11. The Path of Daggers
12. Crossroads of Twilight

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Hey I am a teenage ftm. Recently my dysphoria has been getting worse. I’m currently on stealth rn in a Christian black household and it’s hard on me I tried to come out but they simply told me to go to church and etc like that would help. To make it worse my online friends which are my age are already on their 1st or 2nd year on T and I feel so jealous… It literally makes me want to rip my hair out. everytime I heard a male voice I feel like breaking because why do you have something I have to wait for? Why can’t that just be me? Esp people around me making it worse asking me if I’m a stud or assuming I’m a lesbian it’s so annoying. I don’t think I can genuinely cope living like this, genuinely it’s suffocating. I been venting to my boyfriend about it(cis) and he keeps telling me things will get better I just have to wait but I can’t. I cant wait anymore, I can’t wait til I’m 18. I can’t wait and watch my body morph into something I hate, it’s painful to experience. I feel like throwing up

Joking aside I actually am an artist it's my profession! haven't posted my recent works on here yet unfortunately. I'm a quiet kind of serious guy, I love horror and animation. I like coffee and whiskey. On my free time I go to the gym in the morning, and I go to artsy or foodie places. And at night I'll chill and watch YouTube scary vids. I traveled a lot and plan on traveling more. I don't smoke anything. I HAVE A DOG Appearance wise just ask for a pic I guess? I'm a 5'11 pale latino, I'm stocky, I work out a lot but still got fat and I am working on it. I have tattoos and a perma tried face. I'm looking for someone with some shared interests, my only real deal breaker is kids, I don't have any and don't think I want any. I'm here to hopefully find a real relationship, built from communication and passion. I can't sleep and would enjoy a partner.

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I've been into crossdresing since I was 13 first time I remember was I watched a boy to girl makeup video and felt good then I started wearing saree and got sexually aroused by it ..then whenever I got my lone time I started wearing saree ..crossdressing cumming to it..i enjoyed dressing and masturbating to it...then it continued and developed by each year. Understand that rest of the time I'm still a normal guy having boy hobbies and I'm embarrassed of my other side...after 19 I explored sissy porn started chatting with guys online... showing myself to them..started my insta .. started posting and had like 3 k followers..got alot of attention from guys and the msgs made me really feel good when I was edging ..and then I'm embarrassed by it after I cum and I'm like I need to quit this...I really try to quit at times coz my true self doesn't like this idk I'm still trying to quit and explore aswell .but I'm really confused..if I had a button to Remove this from my life I would easily do that... I wish to lead my life as a successful man and have family in future I wanna stop it ...but when I'm alone a nd honrny I'm a different person...I become a sissy and chatbwid guys and show myself...idk what to do some part of me wants to explore....I'm scared..I need genuine advice pls....it's really affecting my mental health and my relationship with others...it's so hard and it is eating me up mentally...

More misery bird? More misery bird. Really miserymaxxing with these fics I have going, but hey, this one is not that miserable actually! Krekos is back and ready to be dense and downcast, but maybe not quite miserable? Read and see!
Big thank you to NoP community for being great and supportive of my endeavors!
Also, obviously, big thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe and allowing fanfiction well to flow free!
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Memory transcription subject: Krekos, Krakotl Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: May 6th, 2137
I stare at the foul creature before me. Normally staring at something directly head on like that would be too predatory for me to do, but after nearly dying of bread yesterday, I didn’t feel patient enough to be gentle. The creature stared right back, though in a much more natural, prey-like way, tilting its head slightly as it looked back at me with one eye and let out a long bwok.
“Are you doing this now? Really?”, I ask, knowing full well it cannot respond.
Well, it can, if another bwok it made is any indication. Of course, translators aren’t yet advanced enough to translate non-sapient speech, but the intention behind sound is intuitively clear. It’s telling me to back off. Well, I tried the diplomatic approach at least.
Raising my wing I begin sliding the bird out of its nest, careful to keep any delicate joints out of its reach. It started clucking in upset indignation, struggling back and even trying to peck at me, but after realizing that I will not relent, it hopped out of the box and rushed out of the cattle house, revealing a single dead egg in the nesting box.
With relief, I finally pick up the last egg and head back to leave them at the house. Turns out that while Reginald didn’t forget to both lock them up yesterday and let them out today, he did neglect feeding them both times, as well as collecting the harvest. So when I was driven back here in early morning, the first thing I did was making sure they were taken care of. I can’t say the horrid birds looked in any way hungry, but the moment I poured the feeding grain for them, they attacked it with more viciousness than I’d expect of an actual predator. And yet only thirteen were present at the feeding, as the one that’s usually the target of flock’s ire remained in the cattle house yet again, Reginald leaving it to it, being unaware of its undesirable habit of trying to hatch dead eggs.
With eggs delivered, I flew my way to my usual spot atop the cattle house and could finally relax. The loner beast first made its way to feast on the scraps of the grain that other birds already all have had their fill of, so I wasn’t too concerned. Instead I tried to reflect on the morning I had so far.
Waking up at the hospital did make me momentarily panic before I remembered the precluding events. Not that I could properly panic, feeling the most starved I’ve been my whole life, and too weak to try flying out of the window. Thankfully, the breakfast they provided was actually well made with krakotl needs in mind, algae soup alongside a few slices of bread, this time without any horrid human ideas like putting eggs in there. Eggs! Turns out they put eggs in some kinds of bread! That’s how I got sick! Eggs! The thought of what I consumed even now made me queasy, and it definitely made breakfast a much less appetizing affair than it would have been without that knowledge, but back then the hunger won over the disgust.
Lena did keep her promise and came to pick me up extra early. Her being a staff member at the hospital gave her some extra privilege, I assume, hence why I was released without any forms needing to be filled out personally. She did have important business today too, which probably explained the earlyness and urgency of her driving me back to her house.
That did not mean I escaped her ire, however. While I couldn’t pinpoint anything to identify the man, as Bob was apparently a common name, that offered me bread, we did come to understanding that he was likely either unaware of the nutritional contents of it, or of extent to which the Cure-induced allergy would be affecting a krakotl. Yet, Lena seemed much angrier at me for failing to take any precautions. Turns out that was the purpose of medicinal injectors, epipens as humans call them, that were provided to me. I was supposed to have them on me in case I accidentally ingested contaminated food. Nobody told me that, I was just handed them back when I first received the necessities at the refugee camp and I had no clue what they were for. Then she also berated me for eating random food from strangers and ignoring bad flavors. Turns out that brioche bread isn’t actually bitter at all, and that was my body reacting to an allergen in it. Reaction that I unwisely elected to ignore, to further ire of my host. By the end, several new rules of my stay here were made, including not eating things I don’t know and always having at least one epipen on me. Thankfully, these rules would be ones I’d start following even without them being established, so I won’t have to concern myself with being kicked out over accidentally breaking them.
As if following the rules will be enough to make them like you.
Trying to distract myself from thoughts of yesterday’s incident, I focused my attention on the flock. All birds accounted for, so at least I knew that my absence did not result in the predator coming to snatch one of them. I do not wish to insult my hosts, but Reginald is far from most attentive people in matters unrelated to his job, and I am not sure the birds were watched at all while I was out. Speaking of, my scannings of surrounding treelines revealed no sign of the predator today. Perhaps it departed to hunt elsewhere, or maybe it ventured too close to a more populated area and exterminators dealt with it.
Actually, did human exterminators work similar to Federation ones? I knew for a fact they had them, although they seemed like a market of private organizations if advertisements are anything to judge by. Still, what methods do they use? I know humans oppose fire, and do not believe in predatory taint, but surely they have measures to protect themselves? They are, by self-admission, far from the best natural predator, and I doubt Earth’s non-sapient predators would just leave humans be. Maybe I should call one of those human exterminator agencies and call them in to deal with that predator? I haven’t told Lena or Reginald about it, as I didn’t want to bother them, but it could pose a serious threat to the cattle, but maybe that’s the way I could resolve it without involving them?
I have not done nearly as much research into human culture and lifestyle as I should have, considering that I’ve lived on Earth for over half a year now, but the sheer width of the topic always overwhelmed me the moment I opened internet search app to the point where I just closed it right away.
And you expect to start studying again with that attitude? You’ll flunk out even from this primitive predator education course.
Extra loud call from the flock made me refocus my attention on them, but it was nothing. Just the loner getting pecked extra hard and lashing out against assailants, causing a small aimless stampede as all the birds ran around in circles, puffing up at one another. The assailants now looked a lot more like victims. I could understand those birds more than I could humans at least. The loner bird is clearly an odd one out. It’s the only one repeatedly trying to hatch unfertilized eggs it lays, and it seems to always avoid the rest of the flock. Humans may deny the existence of Predator Disease, but they can’t deny that prey and predator both can and will sometimes behave in unnatural ways that may threaten the herd's safety. Or pack’s, in case of humans. Birds must know on instinctual level that the loner’s behavior is unnatural and are attempting to combat the Predator Disease on instinctual level. And since that is natural, I still will not interfere in this, unless the loner bird actually becomes a threat to others or will start getting too injured. The first time I attempted to pick one of the birds up was the only time for a good reason, as I have learned their viciousness all too well.
DING-DING
The sudden loud ring startled me enough that I nearly tumbled off the roof. Who would be coming over now? Lena and Reginald have left together and shouldn’t be back until afternoon, and they’d never use the bell. That means someone must be here for them. But wouldn’t they warn anyone to not come over? Especially with their plans for today.
With nobody to answer these questions, I had no choice but to go and discover the answer myself, flying up and over the house, towards the entrance gate. The moment I passed the house roof, I already saw a familiar silhouette. It was the human child from a few days ago.
Thankfully, Lena’s insistence on me carrying an epipen at all times meant I also carried my satchel at all times too, so I didn’t have to go grabbing my holopad, and took it out. But before I could even launch the translator TTS app to type out a greeting, the child was already hopping in place with excitement.
“Mr. Krekos! Hi! I came over to visit!”, she exclaimed, showing off her teeth in an unnerving expression of human joy. I simply tried to avoid that and focused on the pad, typing out my response.
“Hello, Rosie. Why are you here?”
The question was genuine, as the child was not carrying any more of that honey substance from last time.
“I just came over to visit you! Is that okay? Are Mr. and Ms. Vince okay with it?”
Visit... me? Why? While I was confused, I did instinctively type out a reply.
“They did tell me visitors are allowed as long as there’s no trouble when I first moved in.”
And before I could type a followup message asking her why she’s here, she already let out a joyous roar and ran past me.
“Can I see the chickens?”, she asked, and not waiting for an answer, rushed past the house and towards the cattle yard.
“Wait! You’ll scare them!”, I yell after her, but of course without a translator she can’t understand me as she runs like she already knows where to go.
And indeed she has, quickly rushing up to the open field where the birds were grazing. Thankfully she didn’t start chasing them, instead just approaching the flock from a distance and swaying in place, watching them with what I assume was some sort of predatory excitement at the sight of prey. Maybe that’s where the contained hunting instinct of human children showed themselves? In chasing small birds? I was still more subdued, considering she stopped shy of causing a small stampede, but still.
“Grandpa used to take me with him! He helped watch this farm until Mr. and Ms. Vince moved in. I like chickens! I think they’re cute.”, the child told me innocently as she kept swaying and watching as the beasts grazed upon insects of the pasture.
That revelation was... interesting. I suppose it makes sense that between the original owner of this land dying in the bombings and Lena and Reginald moving in, it would be unattended. With nobody to feed and watch over those things, they would be long dead for sure. And it was Rosie’s grandfather... Speaking of. I typed out my words.
“Does your grandfather know you’re here?”
She seemed to get a weird look as she stopped her excited swaying, fiddling with her hands instead. Looks like I asked the correct question.
“...he knows I am out visiting neighbors.”
That did not answer my question. I squinted at the human child, and she dipped her head as she continued.
“...he doesn’t know I’m here specifically. Or that an alien even lives here...”, she explained, her tone suddenly more sullen.
I couldn’t help but squint at that, and it appears that my expression was readable enough that even a human could see the suspicion, as she continued.
“I’m sorry... But if I told grandpa, he’d tell me I’m forbidden from talking to you, like he forbade me from talking to hedgehog people in town... But I want to talk to you! You’re nice and you’re a space bird!”
The child was actually working around the rules established by her guardian to come see me. I don’t know if I should be glad or concerned. Clearly, the man is anti-alien in his opinions, and I’d rather that kind of man not know about how close he lives to one. At the same time, I’d rather not encourage a child for lying to their guardian in order to meet a stranger they know they aren’t allowed to interact with... So I just took the middle path with my next message.
“I see. What did you want to talk to me about then?”, TTS speaks for me.
Her stiffened body language disappears, replaced again with earlier excitement.
“I wanna know more about space! And aliens! It’s all so cool but grandpa says it’s all dangerous because mom and dad died. But it’s not! The hedgehog people were nice, and you’re nice too!”
I wasn’t sure about that logic, but my self-preservation told me I shouldn’t try convincing her to go confessing. Instead I focused more on her chosen topic.
“I am not sure I am the best person to ask about space. I am not a scientist or traveler.”
“But you’re from there! You know way more than me. I don’t even know what you are called. And there’s gotta be cool things out in space!”
I let out a sigh. I suppose it’s childlike curiosity at its finest. So unfamiliar with mundane that it is a wonder. I remember being like that about becoming a doctor.
And then you let your teacher die.
I quickly tapped on the pad.
“Okay, I can answer questions, but I may not know everything.”
The noise that came out of the girl was like a squeal of a panicked dossur as she started hopping and spinning in place.
“Yes! Yes! Thank you, Mr. Krekos!” Sudden movement did cause me to recoil a bit, which in turn caused her to cease her happy flailing and adjust her little dress. “I dunno where to start though... Hm... What are you?”
...for all my trepidation about not knowing answers, I should have anticipated that the questions she asks will be rather age-appropriate and on the same level as we learn in our first school classes. At least I won’t disappoint her then.
“I am from a species called ‘krakotl’. We’re avians, as is obvious. Our home is...” dead, gone, reduced to glass and ash by our own hubris “...was Nishtal. A beautiful planet...”
Thankfully she did not question my hesitant pause. Instead she just nodded along.
“What about the hedgehog people? I already know venlil, but they’re the only ones I know name of.”
Hedgehog people in town she mentioned earlier. The only species I could think of that could be seen there would be the gojid. I have no clue what hedgehogs are, but probably some creature with visible similarity to them.
“They are called ‘gojid’, and they’re from gojid Cradle. Both of our species are... well, used to be known for our might and protecting other species of Federation.”
I am not sure if that’s something to brag about, considering... everything. But I didn’t want this child to get brought down with depressing regrets of our species. Let her know something nicer instead. She clearly lost a lot, but there’s still joy left in her. I wouldn’t want to be the one to ruin that.
“Cool! What about other people? I wanna know more!”
And so I went on, telling her about various species, although I mostly focused on ones in this new human-led union, only mentioning kolshians and farsul beyond that. It’s weird explaining to a child what a tilfish or a harchen looks like, but thankfully my holopad isn’t just a method of communicating with implant-less children. With access to interstellar web, I could easily pull up pictures of various alien species to show to her, even if she struggled to believe that some of them were even sapient purely based off of looks. With how varied species in Federation are, and how some of us admittedly aren’t too far physiologically from our more primal ancestors.
Among other topics, she asked me to tell her interesting things, which I didn’t know much of. I told her about Venlil Prime’s tidally locked status, a rarity among habitable planets, much less homeworlds for species. I told her about the unique architecture of Mileau, designed to accommodate both species of regular size and dossur themselves. I told her about Colia medical academies, some of the most beautiful medical facilities in the galaxy.
I wish I was more well-travelled, but I just wasn’t. My whole life, I never left Nishtal until the extermination fleet took me despite my protests. That may have been what saved my life...
Not that I, of all people, deserved it...
“Hey! Stop that!”
I flinched as I heard the child yell, but quickly realized that it wasn’t directed at me. Instead, Rosie was rushing down towards the chicken flock, breaking up the fight in which the loner was being pecked by a few larger chickens. As the human child approached, the birds stopped their infighting and scattered in different directions, crowing in loud panic and discontent. On instinct, I found myself rushing towards the child, forgetting about translation entirely.
“What are you doing?! Don’t touch them!”
I didn’t want her to hurt the cattle accidentally, and I didn’t want her to get hurt by the angry birds in return. But, it seems like the moment the birds scattered, she was satisfied with her actions and turned back to me, wearing another one of her happy smiles.
“Sorry, Mr. Krekos, I just saw chickens being mean. Bad chickens.” She explained.
I was baffled. Why would she interfere like that? When I tried that back when I was just starting, that got me pecked! But with her, the birds just scattered. What if they pecked her?
I took the pad out again and started typing quickly.
“That was dangerous. Why did you do that? What if they attacked you? Why are you even interfering in their natural dynamics?”, questions flowed out of my pad with an artificial human voice.
The girl simply giggled.
“They’re chickens! They aren’t dangerous. They don’t peck that painful and I’ve been scratched worse before. And I have to stop it because bullying is wrong.”
Then she actually noticed that the one that was being attacked wandered close. She casually approached it from behind, the blind spot and just reached down and grabbed it, picking the bird up. I was ready to rush to help the bird when...
“Mwah! There, all better.”
She did a human ‘kiss’ on the back of the cattle bird’s neck before releasing it, the surprise of it causing it to rush off. I knew what kisses were, I’ve seen enough of them between Lena and Reginald, but I believed they were gestures of intimate affection, not... what was even that?
It seems Rosie noticed my confusion as she explained.
“You gotta kiss it so it heals better! That’s what mom taught me.” The child displayed that smile of hers shamelessly. With how much I was being exposed to it, it almost wasn’t unnerving anymore. Still, it was interesting to learn that kisses are seen as something that helps wounds. I guess some species do have saliva with mild antiseptic properties, wouldn’t be too out there to assume humans are the same. And if that’s the case, maybe that’s how the kissing tradition started? Exchange of protective fluid between lovers?
“I see. I did not know that.” I responded before letting my puffed feathers relax. Okay, this whole ‘watching a human child’ thing is turning out to somehow be even more stressful than I expected at first.
“Wait, Mr. Krekos, what time is it?” She suddenly asked, looking up at the sky.
“It’s nearly twelve.” I respond, holopad having a convenient clock for local time.
“Oh no! I need to be home soon! Was nice seeing you Mr. Krekos gotta go bye!”
Before I had even a chance at typing out an answer or my own goodbye, the child sprinted away and back towards the entrance. I had to take flight just to keep up, and even then she just turned around, waved her arm at me and then kept sprinting down the road after leaving the gate. I simply offered a small wave of a wing back before locking the gate again. I suppose it is hard to keep track of time without a device or clock nearby...
Well, at least I had the usual peace and quiet now. And learned a bit more about the creatures I was in charge of. I should really try to deal with my aversion to looking things up on the human internet...
Just as I was about to head back out towards the yard, I heard a loud car horn, a familiar one, getting my attention. Lena’s car. There they were, signaling me, probably having spotted me at the gate from afar. Deciding to make use of my presence here, and hoping to avoid needing to explain that I had a surprise visitor earlier, I went ahead and opened the large gate, allowing the car to enter.
Once it was parked in the usual space, the doors opened and three people came out. Lena and Reginald were both looking a bit disheveled, but their faces carried these smiles that seemed wider than ever before. And third person... Was a stranger. A human I knew of, but never actually met. As he exited the car, a large bag in one hand, he just stared at me, standing in the front yard...
“...okay, I expected many things when I was told you guys housed a refugee, but not this.”
Oh no. Oh no, he was not one of the ones that was willing to overlook an invader that partook in bombing of his planet being allowed to walk free, of course, Lena and Reginald were the weird ones like that, doesn’t mean their son won’t be... I felt the panic rising as I realized I’d need to return to the camp. Why was I upset about that? This was supposed to just have been a way to make money, but now I have a free education program. Do I need to stay? No, but... Why?! Why do I not want to leave?
“Ken, you said it’s going to be alright no matter what it is, right? Wanted us to keep it a surprise to meet a new friend?” Lena’s voice. She should have told him, that’d give me time to prepare why didn’t they give me time why.
“No, no problems, just, really surprised, that’s all... uh... hey, buddy, you okay? You’re really... trembly.”
He was approaching me, and instinct took over as I recoiled, before stuttering out my answer.
“I-I’m fine...”
...thankfully translators don’t translate voice cracks. I hope, at least...
“Hey, relax... I have no problem with you being a krakotl, I just didn’t think...” He looks over at Lena and Reginald. “Calm down... I can wear my visor if you want?”
Right. Those things humans use to hide their scary faces from us.
“I... I’m good...”
Why would it last? It almost felt good after all.
There was some emotion I struggled to read on the young human’s face, as he sighed and shook his head.
“I screwed this up, I’m sorry. Let... Let me try again.” He straightened out, and adjusted his clothing, before slowly approaching me and giving me a small smile, no teeth showing. “Hello. My name is Kenneth Vince and I'm son of Lena and Reginald Vince. I was told you’re a refugee they took in to help out. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
That... snapped me out of it. Right... He was... not upset at my existence. He was just very surprised that Lena and Reginald weren’t. That’s a reasonable thing to be surprised about, considering I was surprised about it to this day. I tried to compose myself as I responded.
“My name is Krekos. I live here as... hired help with the cattle. It’s... nice to meet you?”
The smile on Kenneth’s face widens, though he still refrains from showing his teeth. Instead, he extends a hand towards me. A handshake is a human gesture that I found far from comfortable, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to change his mind on acceptability of my existence, so I took it with a wingclaw. He gently took it and held for a few seconds before letting go and sighing again, turning to his parents.
“You know, I always thought you guys would be empty nesters, but I never thought it’d be that literal.”
That got all three of them laughing, as I just tilted my head in confusion. I was fairly sure there were no empty nests in the house until after I adjusted the attic room for my own accommodations. Still, I took the laughter as a sign that the tense moment had fully passed and let my ruffled feathers slowly rest.
“Let’s head inside. Krekos, we’re having dinner, you’re welcome to join us.” Reginald said, picking up Kenneth’s bag. I tilted my head a little and he followed up with elaboration. “We will be having meat... But there’s still going to be stuff you can eat too. It’s a celebration, so I prepared a bit of everything.”
“Dad, you shouldn’t have!” Kenneth responded with embarrassment.
“None of that! Our son returned from the war, alive and a hero, and we can have a celebration. Krekos, I know you’re still... uncertain about meat so you don’t—”
“I’ll join.”
Wait, who said that? And why did they say that in my voice?
Wait, that was me. Why did I say that?
“That’s great to hear! I’ve got some nice steamed broccoli and some vegetarian fried rice as sides that you’ll enjoy!” Reginald smiled at me and I felt myself shrinking into my feathers. That the humans didn’t notice at least, proceeding into the house instead.
Well, looks like I signed my warrant. At least my bag and my epipen were on me in case something at the table triggers the allergy again. Would be rather unfortunate to have it happen two days in a row.
And that’s how, in just ten or so minutes, I found myself sitting at the dining perch, while humans took seats in chairs, all consuming chunks of roasted flesh and somehow managing to also stuff pieces of equally roasted plants in, and converse with one another. You wouldn’t be able to tell on first look, but despite their mouths being relatively small, especially for a predator, it seems they compensate for it by having those be near bottomless in both hunger and small talk.
I am not sure how I managed to shift my focus away from them consuming animal matter in front of me, however vat grown it might have been, and onto their conversation instead, but I succeeded. I suppose that was just part of me going native around predators. Soon, I’ll be the one feasting along with them before I know it, and snacking on those epipens to not die of it.
Like you could ever be on the same level as humans.
“So, Fahl? That’s where you were sent after the Battle of Earth?” Lena asked.
“Yeah. From what I heard, we got a light posting compared to guys at Sillis or Mileau. The most I had to deal with was some exterminator insurgents.”
That’s right. Since harchen participated in the Extermination Fleet, they were one of those who were occupied by humans during the war. It makes sense that there was at least some ground resistance.
“Honestly, the worst thing out there was the heat. Not the flamethrower kind, the climate. The place was so damn dry and hot. At least exterminators you could subdue or evade. Not so much with the scorching sun!”
I couldn’t resist a small chuckle at the idea of a predator being more afraid of hot weather than flamethrowers as I slowly pecked at the vegetables on my plate. Thankfully it was set far enough aside from any meat dishes that no contamination should occur, but I was still examining pieces before putting them in my mouth just in case.
Seems like reacting was a mistake though, as that brought Kenneth’s attention onto me. He finished chewing latest piece of flesh and pointed a fork at me.
“So, Krekos... Where are you from? Cradle was my guess, but I do know there were refugees from other places like Sillis too.”
That’s a weird question. Isn’t it kind of to be expected for a krakotl to be from our actual homeworld?”
“I’m from Nishtal.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Kenneth chuckled, tossing a piece of broccoli into his mouth and swallowing before continuing, “I meant, where did you live? I kind of assumed you were born there, but it’s not like Nishtal had a chance to send refugees out, and if they did, this is the last place they’d be.”
Oh... I caught concerned looks of Lena and Reginald, looking between me and Kenneth from both sides. Not only did they not make him aware that I was a krakotl, they also neglected to mention just how I came by my refugee status... Which was just a legal workaround to grant me asylum without unnecessary complications or establishing undesirable precedent. Legally, I may be a refugee, but practically... I am a defector. Lena and Reginald know that, I told them my story before. And while they were weirdly accepting, Kenneth... Fought extermination fleet here on Earth. Personally.
Still, I wasn’t about to lie. It took a few moments and gathering mental strength to steel myself, and averting my eyes, focusing on the plate of warm vegetables in front of me rather than the human’s anticipating stare before I answered.
“I did live on Nishtal. I... I came with the extermination fleet.” I responded, doing my best to avoid looking at him. I did not want to witness his reaction, for some reason the thought of seeing it weighed heavy on my mind.
“Oh.”
The response was simple, and had no followup. There was no more clinking of cutlery against plates, or chewing. The only thing hanging in the air of the kitchen was silence, weighing down on me. It dragged on and on... until it just got so unbearable I couldn’t take it.
“I-I’m full... Thank you for the meal.” I quickly said, hopping off the perch and stepping out of the kitchen, quickly making my way to the yard and taking flight.
Fresh air of the outside and rush of it as I flew up and gained speed... I missed that. I knew it’s not safe to just fly over other people’s territory, so I corrected my course into doing large sweeping circles over the cattle yard and simply let my wings carry me.
Flying away from any danger is the only thing I’m good for anyway. The only thing I ever do.
I closed my eyes. With them closed and not focusing on my angle it feels like I’m actually flying away from all the troubles. Away from humans who barely tolerate my existence, away from gojid who see me as worse than a predator, away from Earth and all its incorrigible customs, away from horrid cattle, away from constant memories...
Flying feels nice. It may be a bit harder than it was home, but it’s still possible. I heard that on Venlil Prime or Mileau it’s much harder. But here? Just an extra flap of wings for every few paces and you’re just fine, free to soar the skies...
Alone. With no one to ever share it with me again.
Slowly I let my eyes open back to the bleak reality. Greenery of surrounding pastures and woods, bright blue skies and farmhouses dotted about here and there greeted me. I lowered my gaze down, focusing on what’s below. There they were, fourteen brown and black dots spread around the enclosed portion of the farm territory. I am not sure how much time I’ve spent flying in circles and trying to forget things but my wings were feeling a tad sore. Then as I just began slow descent, in same circular motion, I noticed that one of the birds, a familiar one, was being chased by several others. Recounting the morning, I tried putting the knowledge to action, and shifted direction of descent, swooping down. To my surprise, that actually worked, as the moment I got close to the ground, the cattle birds all got much louder and scattered in all directions, including the loner. Who, at least this time, got off unharmed. I suppose such pathetic flightless creatures would fear a flying one much more than they would when I just run up to them...
Swooping at them from the sky like a predator to intimidate them into behaving... Like an arxur warden.
With the fight preemptively broken up, I flutter up to the roof of the cattle house, to my usual position and rested my wings. I didn’t see any movement from the direction of the house, so I suppose the family is still busy unpacking. Since Kenneth joined the military just before the Battle of Earth, and Lena and Reginald only moved here after their actual house in city of New York got destroyed, it’d be the first time the human is seeing what is basically his new home. There was a room set aside for him since before I even moved in, and while there is also a guest room... That one did not have a large enough window to fit through, which did not feel comfortable. So when I asked for a space with a bigger window they only had an attic to offer. They seemed uncomfortable letting me live in a tiny room with slanted roof, but I found such space more comforting than I would have a large room with a window not large enough to fit even one fully spread wing through.
I wonder if Kenneth will need as much renovation as I did? The house is built for humans, but he never lived there before. Will he need to buy a more comfortable bed? Getting a proper nesting setup in place of a bed took a bit of effort, but I figured something out. Human sheets were comfortable enough for such, and sitting perches were thankfully not that hard to get thanks to help from the refugee administration. Maybe that’s the things that Lena went to buy yesterday? Kenneth’s preferred room decor?
I looked up to the sky to see the sun beginning to dim. I am not sure if it was me flying that long, or me losing track of time in my thoughts again, but the sun was beginning to set. I began my usual chores, putting out an evening meal and water for the beasts, and while they feasted, ate some myself. I was a bit hungry, having not properly finished lunch and about to skip dinner, but after the earlier conversation, I’d really rather avoid giving them the opportunity to talk to me.
After the birds had their fill, and by that I mean they emptied the tray as they always do, I let out the call, and they started funneling into the cattle house. The lonely straggler being first to go and hop into its nesting box. I bet tomorrow I will have trouble with getting her out of there again...
I took the moment to gather some eggs the birds left over course of the day, and once that was over and all of them were accounted for, I closed it up. When I flew down over to the house, there wasn’t anyone by the back door thankfully, so I just left eggs there, returned the basket, and returned to my room through the window.
Well, at least I didn’t get nearly killed today... That’s nice I guess?
I was about to check my holopad when there was a knock on the door. I approached and opened it to see... Kenneth. Standing in the doorway.
“Uh, hi, Krekos. I just, uh... Wanted to apologize again. I really wish mom and dad told me everything ahead of time... I just want you to know, I have no problems with you whatsoever, yeah? It’s just. Surprising, I guess, to hear all that. I didn’t think there were any defectors from the fleet at all... Just. Uh, please don’t worry about me?” He offered me a small smile, showing his canines before quickly correcting himself and doing a closed-lip one. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or make you feel unwelcome.”
I had to take a moment to contemplate his words. Was Lena and Reginald’s weirdness hereditary? He almost reminded me of how Reginald talked to me early on, with constant stumbling over the words, as well as constant reassurances that he is fine with me being here. Couple that with failing to avoid predatory mannerisms like eye contact and smiles like Lena tends to and you get this human. But most importantly and least understandably, there was the general fact of him and them just... welcoming me. I couldn’t understand why. I should be one sorry to them.
“N-No, it’s fine... I’m sorry for... intruding on you and your family.”
“No, no, dude, you’re fine! I mean, hell, I was considering entering one of those exchange programs before the bombings happened, and even after, well, I did my best at Fahl to be the perfect friendly soldier just there to make sure no more bombs drop on my home and not kill or conquer anyone. And then mom told me your story, and I can’t believe it... Just... If you have any issues, feel free to tell me. I’m not one of those racist pricks that are too pussy to even call themselves HF anymore because they know they’ll get their teeth knocked. I get that there aren't good or bad species, just people. And you seem like a decent guy if mom and dad’s judgment is to be trusted.” His smile widened, though it was clear from tension on his face that he had to take conscious effort to keep teeth hidden. “So, what I said earlier stands. Friends, right?”
He extends hand forward, for a second time today. I wasn’t sure if I knew this human long enough to call him a friend... Any human really. But it also seems like human definition of ‘friends’ is anyone they’re cordial and peaceful with. Which is weird. You’d think translators would properly use ‘acquaintance’ for that.
Still... We will be living in the same house now. I can’t just say no, and... I can’t come up with a reason to say no. Even him being a predator and a human is not something I could really say I object to, considering how... mundane that became to me over my time here.
So, with naught on my mind but acceptance of the situation, I extended my wing and grasped his hand with my claw. This time he actually gripped it tightly and moved it up and down, as I saw other humans do occasionally.
“Yeah... I guess that’d be for the best.” I responded, shrugging off the hesitation. Fresh start for a third time, I guess?
The human grinned, forgetting to hide his teeth entirely, but I was ready for it somehow and avoided outwardly reacting.
“Cool! Anyway, I’ll try to get some shuteye early, I couldn’t sleep on the overnight flight home. See ya!”
And with that he left. Well... That meeting went well I suppose?
I returned to my nest and picked up my holopad, returning to what I was doing. And there it was, something I awaited every day. A notification that I was messaged on mailing app. Opening the letter revealed the schedule for the study program. Which... only had one day marked on it. And a note that the rest of it will be figured out ‘as we go from there’. So it’s not a schedule, it’s just a mark for the day of the first meeting.
While a bit underwhelming, it was still exciting. It would be an all-alien class so I wouldn’t have to deal with humans’ incomprehensibility nearly as much, and it would allow me to finally return to pursuing what I actually dreamt of. Even if I wasn’t entirely sure that was precisely what I wanted after everything that happened, it was at least something for me to move towards.
...just two days until start. I wonder if there’s some required reading to prepare?
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So I struggle with a very bad cockroach fetish to the point where I was yelling at my parents when I didn't have my phone to look at cockroaches so they had to hospitalize me. I'm about 9 days free from watching any cockroach videos even though pretty hard to do, I was actually doing pretty well for a while but then I had extreme urges to beat it to a cockroach like this urge was so bad I don't even think you can imagine it, that's how bad the urge was. So anyway I relapsed and I honestly don't think I'm gonna stop because I guess this is how people with OCD have urges almost like you have to do it. Wish me luck 🤞

In my first AA meeting, when it was my turn to speak, I said that I felt my life was a lot like the curse of Sisyphus – forever pushing a boulder up a hill only to slip at the top and, along with the giant stone, roll back to the bottom to start all over again. In my version, each time I slipped and fell, once I got up to start over, the boulder had grown in size, intensifying my labour.
Once the meeting had ended, a person came over and talked to me. “It’s nice to see another lover of the classics here,” they said. I smiled and said, “Oh yeah, haha.” The truth is, I really only know this myth from a friend who is a lover of the classics, and although I relate to the story, I myself will only listen to the enchanting timbre of Stephen Fry’s voice on the topic.
He then went on to tell me that there is a more modern reinterpretation of the story where the curse wasn’t real, but Sisyphus had been tricked into thinking he was eternally damned but could walk away at any time. This really got me thinking about how I had viewed this big stone of mine, this metaphor for everything that fuels my feelings of resentment, stress, anxiety, and depression. Maybe I could just walk away? Now, obviously, I’m not saying people should just walk away from their problems, but it’s our often locked, self-imposed, resentment-fuelled perspective on these problems that causes them to fester and grow. AA is full of “God” and “higher power” talk. I’ve seen people come to a meeting for the first time, hear these words and sigh, deal with the next however long, and never be seen in a meeting again. I don’t blame them. When someone would say to me, “Just put it in the Lord’s hands,” I would always feel disappointed, like it’s just a thing to say to get you to shut up already. What does that mean? Some imaginary force is going to fix my problems? Well, it didn’t take too many meetings to figure out that, no, it doesn’t. What I have come to believe this means is that you’re giving your problems to a higher mode of thinking, the lower mode being this default negative, the world-is-against-me way of looking at things. This lower mode is what brings us to feel the need to numb ourselves because it’s just so overwhelming and hurts emotionally, mentally, and physically – and in come the substances.
I’m going to now share my own reinterpretation of the Myth of Sisyphus, leaving out the whole story about why he was cursed because it doesn’t really apply.
In a timeless realm where punishment and perseverance intertwine, Sisyphus eternally pushes his boulder up a steep hill, only to watch it roll back down each time he nears the summit. This cycle, which he believes to be a divine curse, becomes his singular reality.
As he strains against the weight of his burden, a demon appears on one side, its voice smooth and tempting. It offers Sisyphus a potion, claiming it will ease his pain and make him forget his struggles. Desperate for relief, Sisyphus drinks the potion, and indeed, his pain subsides, his mind grows numb. But each time the boulder rolls back, it returns larger and heavier than before, intensifying his labour.
On the other side of the path, an angel stands silently, offering its hand. Its serene presence contrasts sharply with the demon's boisterous allure. The angel says nothing, its expression calm and patient, a silent invitation to abandon the fruitless task and find peace.
Yet Sisyphus, ensnared by the demon’s persuasive voice, ignores the angel. The demon’s seductive words drown out the silence of the angel, and the potion’s false relief becomes an irresistible escape from his perceived torment.
Unbeknownst to Sisyphus, he is not truly cursed. The gods had tricked him, implanting the belief of a never-ending punishment. The boulder is but an illusion of his own making, a symbol of his acceptance of a lie. The angel’s hand, extended in eternal patience, is the path to his freedom, offering a silent truth: he can walk away at any moment.
But silence is easily overlooked amidst the clamour of temptation. Thus, Sisyphus remains trapped in his self-imposed struggle, pushing the ever-growing boulder, unable to hear the unspoken truth that could set him free.
(Thanks for the re-write, AI)
For most of us, drinking or drugs aren’t really a problem, and that’s great. But unfortunately for some, what started as a fun social partaking from time to time turned into a form of self-medication. It’s a reaction to “I don’t like how I feel.” It’s a very self-involved, short-sighted solution. It’s a selfish act and feeds selfish thinking. Even the aftermath – the hangover – is a continuation of this. It’s so hard to focus or deal with anyone else other than yourself when you’re feeling the withdrawal. Thoughts dwell on fixing the way you feel, and when this is a regular occurrence, even if you no longer suffer as intensely as you once did, those thoughts become one: “When can I have my next drink?” The ultimate cure.
This supposed “cure” is a lie. I call it ‘The Sweet Spot Fallacy’. If I have a few drinks – for me, it was 2-3 generous glasses of whiskey – I’ll reach that sweet spot, and I can finally be at peace. Well, this “sweet spot” only lasts for a moment, and as it starts to fade, the body groans, “I’m losing it, I need more.” So you top up, then whoops, you've had too much, and here comes the slurry mess of “deep, meaningful, and/or epiphonic” (but really just resentment-fuelled dopamine drops of shallow validation) thoughts and conversation. Or what if you can’t top up? Well then, the body and mind continue to groan ever more intensely, and this displays itself in a shit-coloured variety of behaviours in the search for peace and comfort.
I drank because I was filled with resentment. I hated the fact that the world didn’t align for me, and thoughts and memories relating to this made me feel awful, and they wouldn’t stop dropping in to remind me. The irony is that the more these thoughts grew, the more unhinged I became, and the world more unaligned. And the reason those thoughts grew as intense as they did? Alcohol. Alcohol and fatigue.
I’m going to end this with another metaphor that I feel relates to what I have said here, and I’ll leave it to you to figure out why.
“Knowledge is knowing it’s a one-way street. Wisdom is looking both ways regardless.”
Peace and Love.

BACKGROUND INFO (feel free to skip ahead to the QUESTION in 3rd paragraph) : I am the only biological child of my father, who passed in Jan 2021; he was still married to my step-mother when he died. He told me he left some money in his Will for me, not as much as he would have liked to, because it caused a huge argument between him and his wife. He also said the Will stated he was leaving all of our old family pictures (most of my childhood photos) and family heirlooms to me, things that have no sentimental value for step-mother, but she has not cooperated to turn over any of this.
Step-mother has verified she has his Will, even read off some of the items promised to me over the phone. Then I found out my father had put together a special box of items for me, which she opened and described as "beautiful", and she told me there was a diamond ring my grandmother owned in that box. My grandmother was THE most special person in my life, and I cherish the things she gave to me growing up. I told step-mother I want that box, my father invested his time to make it special for me and it contains a connection to my grandmother, and I want the old family photos. I live 700 miles away and it's very difficult to travel due to health issues, so I offered to pay to ship these items to me, but makes excuses not to do so.
QUESTION: I haven't been able to get a copy of the Will from step-mother, I know she has it. I have periodically checked to see if I could find his Will online, in their state of Minnesota, but there are no probate records for my father and it's been over 3 years since he died. Isn't there a requirement to submit the Will of the deceased person to be filed on record, even if it's determined that probate isn't required?

I took a nap today from 11-3, i’m unsure why i did that after 8 hrs of sleep. Now here i am at 2 a.m. wide awake bc of my poor morning choices.
So if someone can keep up a convo so I have something other than watching Gumball to fill in my time it would be much appreciated. i’m pretty decent at chit chat so feel free to see for yourself :)
and if you can start the convo with something other than hey i’d reply very quickly and enthusiastically

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