Burning, sharp pain in chest or upper abdomen

I just got a fitbit (11 days ago), just yesterday I got a high HR notification when I was just sitting watching tv. wondering if my heart rate being above 100 so much is normal? It has even been high while sleeping. ï'm always asleep before midnight and wake up between 630am-10am. (Also I have used an oxygen HR finger meter thing to see that the fitbit is accurate and it is).
I'm female, 35years old, 52, 200lbs, smoker, only med is 100mg sertraline Recent labs (last month) show very high "bad" cholesterol and very low "Good" cholesterol. Since then I have been eating better, and exercising as much as I can but it's very difficult. Just walking upstairs slowly, l'm out of breath. Switching clothes from washer to dryer, I"m out of breath. Sometimes I seem to get short of breath for no reason but after a few deep breaths ľ'm fine. Also sometimes I will randomly feel a sharp pain in my chest but it goes away within a few minutes and it's not heartburn. I have had ekgs a few times in the past but they're always normal.
I work Tuesday, wedensday, and Thursdays. This week I only worked a couple hours those days just walking around grocery stores marking items on a list and was home before noon. AlsO this whole week I have not exercised or done anything strenuous. The most strenuous activity I did this week was vacuum once and I was out of breath after. I always assumed it was normal cause I have been smoking for over 10 years. But now with a fitbit tracking my HR all day I feel like maybe it's not.
Could something be going on? What tests if any should be done? Should I be going to the ER when my HR goes above a certain number? I just feel kind of dumb to walk into an er because of a little bit high HR.
I'm not looking to be diagnosed I know I should talk to my Dr. I'm just looking for information and opinions based on the limited information given. I understand any advice given should not be taken as direct medical advice. Thank you.

Hey all, i’m new to the group and have been reading many of the posts, which make me feel like i’m right where I belong.
My GI symptoms began approximately one year ago. I was woken up with awful upper indigestion/heartburn and can not sleep through it. Burping up mucus, hiccups and an on and off again pain in the chest. These episodes were approximately happening once every two or so months, so not terrible. Always while I was asleep, and it wakes me up everytime.
In between then and May 2024, I would occassionally get random diarrhea and my stomach would act up out of nowhere. So I began to change up my diet and started cutting out many things, to include red meat.
Fast forward to around May 14th. I ate my dinner (smokey gouda chicken which was a Factor meal) and had a really bad stomach ache with very bad gas afterwards, which seems to be a constant for me now, after pretty much everything I eat (for the most part). My stomach starts to ache, I get gas all over to include in my chest. I’ve had a lower back ache for over a month, that I believe is related to these GI problems now. The pain/dull back ache moves around a bit from the left, to the right and to the right side of my body, so its not always the same spot. Obviously, this has me freaking out a bit, because i’m lost as to what it could be.
My poops are definitely not as normal as they use to be and I am sometimes constipated now. Some days I poop 2-3 times, so its not very consistent. The only thing that is consistent is the gas and stomach aches I keep getting. I even cut out dairy completely (4 days ago), but i’m still getting the gas pains. My stomach will also be super noisy and I fart like crazy. Not trying to be disgusting or inappropriate, just want to make sure I explain everything going on with me. I’m losing weight now also, because i’m eating much less. I will also sometimes have to urinate way more frequently then normal, which will also come out of nowhere. Sometimes I will pee 4 times in an hour and its always pretty clear urine.
I am a 45 year old male and had a clean colonoscopy in 2021. Next one will be in 2026, since I was 100% clear when they violated me lol.
Monday June 3rd, i’m scheduled for an Endoscopy and that will be my first. I’m a little nervous because of all the crazy symptoms I have been having the last few weeks.
Any info or advice would be greatly appreciated. I do find that Pepcid and Gas-X gives me some relief, but not complete and its only temporary. Problem is, i’m living on that stuff now. I take one Pepcid and two Gas-X a day after dinner now. Dinner always seems to be the worst reaction for me afterwards, so I save it for then.
Also I have not had any nausea or bad fatigue. Just the above symptoms.
Thank you for reading

People will say get off reddit but I refuse to go to the hospital for such non specific symptoms. Don’t want to be told it is anxiety or stress s. 24 year old female, have had almost feels like severe heartburn for 4 days straight. And serious nausea and want to vomit. I have been taking anti acids and nothing works. A couple nights ago I had severe chest pain and I could feel it radiate to my jaw. But it went away in a couple minutes. These past 4 days I have had squeezing in my chest that can be awful but then goes away. I also get this squeezing sensation in my upper left arm. I figured it would go away eventually. But today I had high resting heart rate still normal just higher than usual, got very hot, felt nausea, and could feel squeezing pain in upper left arm. This lasted 30 mins. They come and go. I am hoping it goes away, and is just a minor issue. I will not go to the ER or urgent care unless I am practically unconscious because they don’t take people seriously. What are the symptoms of a heart attack?

( pre notice , i think its Lyme due to symptoms starting right after coming back from over seas in morocco, aswell when i first landed i stayed in a oldish beach house where i was being bitten non stop and got extremely sick that ultimately ended in me losing a bunch of weight and stopped eating all summer. The bits where absolutely huge and took up most of my thigh) ……………….. Hey there, I (F17) have been suffering since August 2023 with a whole range of symptoms. I came back from two months overseas with a quick onset of eye pain and a whole bunch of pressure on the top of my right eye, along with daily headaches at the same time every day. In October, I had a thunderclap headache and went to the ER where they did a brain CT that came back clear. Fast forward to my neurologist making me have an MRI and MRV of the brain that came out fully clear, so she decided that I probably just had chronic migraines. It was really bad; I lost a bunch of weight, slept for most of the day, and was dizzy all day.
November came, and I had my first bout of neck pain. It wasn't too bad, but I was so exhausted from the pressure on my eye that it made me feel mentally horrible. My headache reduced from daily to only having extreme major ones 1 or 2 times in the month, along with daily thumping and nausea. I started PT for my neck in late March, and that's when I had my out-of-nowhere numbness and tingling and pins and needles down my right arm so i was sent to have a chest xray which came out normal aswell . My knuckles feel on fire, and my skin is burning with a bunch of neck pain, so I got an MRI for my neck yesterday, and my results are perfectly normal.
The worst part is that now I have nothing else that I can do about it. The pain keeps spreading around my upper body, and I slur my speech and have complete weakness in my hand and can't brush my hair also as of Friday for like 10 minutes my hand started to burn like it was on fire and got all red and the veins swelled up out of nowhere. Both my PT and neurologist are extremely confused and have absolutely no idea what's happening, especially since all my symptoms are on one side. My left side feels perfect, and I weirdly feel my fatigue only on my right side. Any ideas on what I should do next?
Diagnosed now with - parenthesia of the upper limb (right side) - cervicalgia ( right side only ) - Chronic migraine ( right side only) - Pain and pressure of the right eye
I have tried both sumatriptan and rizatriptan and both made pass out for almost 25-48 hours and didn’t even work
Also sad but funny fact , everyone in my neurologist office calls me the medical mystery but I genuinely feel like i cant be the only one who has suffered through these symptoms….. right?

Hi! I felt compelled to post this brief reflection on my hormonal IUD, which I had between July 2022 - March 2024, since I know I had a lot of questions initially and that it can be hard to find specific info about symptoms and healing progress online. I had a Liletta inserted in July 2022 with regional anesthesia--both the anesthesia and insertion weren't too painful (just some mild to moderate cramps), but once I was out of the doctor's office and over the first six months I had some of the worst daily cramping I've ever experienced. The pain got so bad that early on I started taking a reckless cocktail of ibuprofen and Tylenol (please don't do this, especially with ibuprofen!), which I now know not to do because the ibuprofen burned a small ulcer in my stomach that took ~a year to fully recover from. I also had deep cystic acne breakouts that I've since treated diligently but which has still left some scarring.
Once my body adjusted to the IUD, it worked great overall as birth control! I would have irregular periods, though, which were somewhere between my normal periods pre-IUD and the altogether disappearing of periods that most people describe with hormonal IUDs. When I did have periods they were very spotty and sometimes lasted 8-10 days--whatever I shed was always brown in color (older blood), which was fine but a little rough psychologically. Other times I would go 2-3 months with no period at all.
I had a period around the end of March (2024) and removed my IUD right after. Removal took 2 seconds and was painless! I didn't experience any mental withdrawal symptoms, which I'm grateful for, though I did have some sharp pain in the area between my belly button and vagina for a few days. My period wasn't coming back, though. My gynecologist said not to worry and tested me for possible infections behind the pelvic pain (she didn't find any). I ended up telling my acupuncturist about my symptoms instead, and traditional Chinese medicine turned out to be my saving grace! After a month of treatment my period came back with normal duration and flow, 8 weeks after removal, at the end of May.
Would I recommend hormonal IUDs as a form of birth control based on my experience? Yes! My IUD was effective, and I didn't have any of the intense mood swings, drastic sex drive changes, or heaviness in my legs that I had when trying the pill. Would I recommend it in general based on my experience? Not so much--it ended up being way harder on my body than I expected it to be. I hope some of this info can be helpful to anyone considering their options, or to anyone dealing with period irregularities post-removal! Both my gynecologist and acupuncturist said periods can be slow to come back (can take 3-6 months) as the body readjusts to structural and hormonal changes.

26F, 170lbs, 5’4. Generalized anxiety disorder. Currently taking Nortrel (Oral BC), 75mg Effexor, and Zyrtec as needed for allergies. I’ve had no recent diagnoses, med changes, or significant health changes.
About 3 weeks ago, my left shoulder randomly felt really achy and sore. It wasn’t like a sharp pain or really a like localized pain; it just felt like the shoulder and upper arm were overworked. I took it easy a few days and it went away. Since then, I’ve been to see my PCP and an ortho/sports med doc (for an existing injury to my ankle), and both checked it and my vitals, etc. and said I seem fine. It was noted I had really strong reflexes (not sure why, that’s never been said to me before but it was like the only thing they found and they both noted it in the chart sections regarding my arm) but nothing else was found.
Today, I was grocery shopping and my left arm suddenly started feeling that way again. It feels like an ache in my shoulder, and my entire arm just feels weak. I’m not having any other symptoms, but it really just feels like my whole arm isn’t working? What could cause this?
I know heart attacks sometimes present with left arm pain but I’m not having any other symptoms at all, and it’s not even really pain - it almost just feels like it isn’t even there?
Thank you in advance :)

Secret Dragon - Chapter 2: Ignite
I opened the book and skimmed through a few chapters, happy to finally see some true information, with substance. Although I had many books of my own, I had never brought any of them to class; I had no intention of being asked about them or pressing the issue.
By virtue of my existence, it and I would be scrutinized. I had neither the patience nor the desire for another microscope to be placed above me.
But Sasha had no such reservations even after I told him about the curriculum, although he relented and said he would figure out a way around that nonsense. It seemed as if he was determined to go against the grain.
We spoke deeply, about different subjects, our project, and his books. The more he talked the more at ease he became. I unknowingly got closer and closer to him as the time passed. I had to literally pull myself back a few times. I wondered if he noticed. It was confusing how I kept leaning into the heat coming off his breath.
We were both startled at the sound of chairs scraping. We looked around as our peers gathered their things.
“It seems that for the first time this class is actually worth my time. Usually I am the first to leave,” Sasha said, surprised.
“I know,” I revealed.
“Hmmm,” he vocalized deeply. I had no idea if it was “oh really” or “interesting” or any other answer. It was just a deep throat vibration. I just knew he would do that a lot. I could feel it.
As I was packing my things, I realized I was a little feverish. I put a hand to my cheek. Was it hot? Or was it that he was speaking heat in my direction? I couldn’t tell. I never ran hot.
He watched me touching my face and chuckled to himself, putting away his books. I really wanted to be annoyed—at anyone else I would have been—but his lighthearted laughter surprised me; so joyous after so many weeks of being a specter in the classroom.
I looked him in his eyes, though, and shook my head challengingly at him, as if to say “what?” That only made him laugh out loud. It was both quiet and bassy all at the same time. The kind of laugh that was bottomless, scratchy. The kind of laugh you could tell would boom and shake you if given the space.
I never thought I’d hear that coming from him, let alone directed at me. I refrained from expressing an iota of emotion beyond a small smile. I had to stay cool.
Pam walked over to our table swiftly, no doubt looking to be rid of Jonah. She smiled at Sasha, grinned really.
“So. We finally meet! Pam Swiftwater,” she chirped. Her hand shot out as fast as she walked. Sasha halted his movement. He extended his hand more slowly, gently, engulfing her delicate hands in his large ones.
“Of course. I am Sasha Emberscale,” Sasha said, pulling his hand back to pat his chest.
Pam gave me a knowing glance of drama. “Oh I know who you are,” she said.
“Likewise; you are in my open physical hour,” he reminded her. “You are on the track team.”
“That’s right! It’s nice to finally, officially, meet you.”
Sasha raised his brow at her. “My friend has spoken of you,” he said offhand.
“What friend?” Pam asked, taken aback.
“Seth Fairbreeze, dragon of the wind.”
“Oh?” Pam said, her interest piqued. I didn’t know whether she knew who that was. But it intrigued both of us nonetheless.
“I will introduce you, of course, now that we are properly acquainted.”
“I can’t wait.” I knew she couldn’t.
Pam glanced back at her table and groaned. “Let’s get out of here. If I have to talk to Jonah any longer, I swear Imma strangle him.”
Sasha laughed heartily. “Very well. Let us depart this place to avoid attempted murder,” he joked.
“Why don’t you stick with us? We’re in the same course after this,” I suggested, gathering my items. I didn’t even hesitate asking him that. I’d done enough hesitating.
Sasha’s laugh tapered off into a quiet chuckle. “Of course. I would desire nothing more.”
I couldn’t hide my elation this time. Pam snickered at me. Thankfully he didn’t notice. I assumed.
Sasha draped his jacket across his arm, opting not to put it back on. Admittedly I enjoyed the view. He gestured for us to exit the class before him.
Every once in a while he would look down at me as we walked through the halls. I noticed his eyes following me.
I would sneak a glance at him when he wasn’t looking. It was apparent just how large he was now that I was walking right next to him. He was one of the only people in school taller than me. His shoulders were broad, arms thick. I know I was staring at the way they flexed as he moved. Couldn’t help but to.
Everything in me wanted to take that arm of his for my own. The thought of it being mine just felt so natural. I had to check myself a few times walking beside him.
It would be mine in time. That I promised myself.
—
We entered our Dragontongue class where I took a seat on his right at a table. Pam sat at mine.
Class with Sasha was much more interesting than ever before. He spoke freely and pleasantly, a stark contrast to the silent dragon he had been before I sat at his table in Dragonology. It was like something that had weighed on him had vanished.
I wasn’t unaware that he was happier since we had talked. I was pleased that it was me that had pulled him out of whatever darkness was holding him.
Again a pang of irritation ran through me. Why had I not introduced myself before? Just hearing the depth of his voice and the eloquence of his speech had me feeling some type of way. I could have been hearing that in my ears for weeks, those words of his carried on desert sands.
As class droned on, I saw that Sasha was appraising the professor with a raised brow as if too polite to allow complete disdain across his face.
He began to tell us about different Dragontongue dialects quietly, I suppose to keep himself occupied or distracted. I had to lean all the way in to hear his voice. It reverberated in my ears.
“If you were to say that word in the southern regions of Lyfax, it would mean to place bricks or stones atop each other as if building something. If you said that in the northeastern region, it means much the same, but doubles as a slang word meaning to fu— I am sorry, to have relations with someone.”
Pam squealed and covered her mouth. I covered mine too. I had wanted to hear the word ‘fuck’ come out of his polite mouth.
“Are you serious?” I asked instead.
“Yes, I am,” he said, brow raised. “Take care in who you say it to and in what context.”
Sasha tapped another paragraph “This term here. If you were to say it in the Northernmost tip of the country, it is basically calling someone a piece of filth in the wrong context, while just a few regions down it simply means to clean something without any further colloquial use. Their origins most likely started off with the same meaning and deviated as the people left and settled elsewhere. Knowing different dialects of Dragontongue in Lyfax is important. Linguistics interests me, as you can probably surmise.”
“Do you speak a lot of languages?” Pam asked.
“I occasionally travel for my work and interact with different dignitaries. I must know many languages and dialects at least at a rudimentary level.”
“Oh wow…” I said, truly impressed. Now that I had listened to his voice, I couldn’t place his accent. Unless deep was one. It wasn’t as if I was familiar with Lyfaxians’ manner of speech or various accents anyway. “What do you speak?” I asked
“Hmmmm. Common Lyfaxian. Common Lizardtongue. Dragontongue, of course; several dialects: fire, moon and wind. Many people know these. Shelltongue. Salamandra…one other.”
“Goodness,” I said in awe. I stashed away that “one other.” I’d ask about it later. I couldn’t imagine why it would be a secret. Hypocritically.
“My speech is not perfect in Shelltongue or Salamandra yet. But I can hold a conversation. I would enjoy learning and speaking your dialect of Dragontongue, as you mentioned earlier,” he remarked to me. Of course, Pam regarded me in shock. She gave me a chiding look, rightfully so.
Sasha didn’t miss her reaction. “If it is trouble, do not worry about it,” he said, frowning.
“No, It’s okay,” I reassured him. “I don’t mind.”
He was still uncertain, looking at Pam’s concerned face. “If I am to converse with a new group of dragons, I would prefer to know their dialect,” he whispered. “But not if it is cause for alarm. For some reason.”
Pam sighed in relief upon hearing him refer to me as a dragon. “Oh okay.”
“It’s fine. Complicated. I’ll tell you later,” I said, waving it all away. Sasha nodded.
“So did you all decide on a topic for your assignment?” Pam asked.
“Of course. We spoke much of it. I look forward to working with Leila.” Sasha said. I liked the way he said my name, the way he swung the vowels upward to where they needed to go. As it should be. “It will be interesting,” he said.
Pam glanced over to me. “How so?”
I looked amused, I’m sure. “Let’s say our Dragonology topic is about to be spicy,” I hinted.
“Sasha you’re a horrible influence already,” she accused, raising her brows at him.
“Of course,” he confirmed, chuckling deeply. “One needs a little corruption in the right direction, every once in a while.”
“Corruption? Oh really?” I said, regarding him in what I intended to be mock surprise. But I was genuinely shocked that he said it. He hadn’t corrupted me yet. He could try, but only when I was through with him.
Sasha chuckled silently. Just a trembling of the shoulders. A soft billow of scalding heat wafting across my face. Mmm, maybe sooner then.
Pam’s eyes widened, but she was beyond amused. If she could manifest a snack to observe our rapidly forming dynamic, she would have in a heartbeat.
She sat back, twirling her pencil. I knew she was about to start something. The twitch in the corner of her mouth was working. She was about to instigate her heart out. I groaned quietly.
“You know, Leila speaks all the same languages you do. She’s fluent in Shelltongue even; one of her best friends is Turtlefolk. She works at a place where a lot of people from different places come through. She took it upon herself to learn their languages.”
I groaned more.
“Is that so?” Sasha inquired, angling his body toward me. He sounded impressed.
I just rubbed my brows. I did not advertise my language skills. He looked at me with interest. “That is admirable. Why do you not wish to speak of it?” he asked.
“I don’t like puffing myself up. Drawing attention. Not that you are doing that,” I clarified.
Sasha smiled. “I know what you meant,” he said, speaking Shelltongue. I grinned. “I have been somewhat successful at not drawing attention—past my appearance at least—for a few weeks now.”
“Except your grades of course,” I pointed out in Shelltongue as well. “Literally perfect grades except two, and that’s only because of inaccuracies.”
Sasha raised his brow. “Ah, right, you have been keeping tabs on my marks. Very well; I have been under the radar except for my marks.”
“See? Y’all can speak tongues to each other in every flavor,” Pam said casually.
My mouth dropped. To say my eyes widened would be an understand. I shielded the side of my face.
Sasha choked and laughed quietly, holding his chest.
Never had she been that brazen. And she had said some crazy ass things for as long as I’d know her.
She looked so proud of herself.
“Pam, you are trying to start something, are you not?” Sasha guessed—back in Lizardtongue—looking away in laughter.
“Of course not. I don’t know what you mean,” she said, smirking.
I rubbed my face. “What were we even talking about?”
Sasha spoke as quietly as he could. “Different languages. Dialects. Things of that nature. Tongues, apparently,” he said, leaning toward me.
Really Sasha? I thought. He was something else.
He leaned back again and looked ahead, his smile dimming. “Also, things your professor apparently will not teach,” he said, the scales of his brows beginning to furrow.
“Yeah. It’s frustrating,” I agreed, uncovering my face.
“This class is testing my endurance. To hear my language butchered and be told that the proper way is incorrect is vexing.”
Pam stared at the professor, then at Sasha. “I’m sorry. This class is far beneath how you—and we—speak.”Pam and the rest of the Swiftwater Clan spoke to my family in the True way, the way of Sun Dragons.
Sasha leaned back. “And yet I have no choice but to be here,” he remarked. “And, apparently, neither do you both.”
It was a painful requirement, but a mandatory one. I nodded.
Pam turned back to the front of class. “You must be bored here at this university,” she said.
Sasha rubbed his chin. “Hmmmm,” he rumbled deeply. The vibration of that inquisitive hum made my shoulders tingle. I had to close my eyes and put a hand to my chest to halt my heart’s pounding.
“I was, yes,” he said slowly, “but yesterday was my last day of boredom. Today, the season has changed.” He glanced at me as he said it.
My mouth twitched into a smile. I found his choice of words particularly appealing. Pam looked curiously at him, but said nothing.
Sasha angled his body back toward me. I don’t know if I imagined it, but it felt like his whole existence was radiating heat now. It sent rush through my body.
“Let us return to our ‘lesson’ and pretend to care,” he suggested.
“Sasha,” I laughed, nudging his arm. It was hot to the touch. I was not imagining it.
“What?” he said innocently.
I shook my head at him, incredulous. I had no idea he was so funny. Who would have thought that sullen dragon was full of humor. He relented.
“I will behave myself,” he lied through his fanged teeth, patting his chest.
“Doubtful,” I returned, amused. It was easy to talk to him. Like we were old friends. Sasha was right: Pam had started something.
—
Sasha continued pointing out more language dialect rules and vocabulary from Lyfax. Things we couldn’t have learned on our own.
There were so many regions to learn about. I listened intently as he described them, and asked questions about everything. It was as if he was taking me on a mental tour of those far away places…
Before that day we hadn’t said a word to each other. Hadn’t shaken hands or anything. Whenever we had met eyes, we would quickly look away. I didn’t understand why we had done that. Now here we were hunched over a text book with our heads damn near touching. The heat of his breath warmed my face. It was hotter than earlier that day. Much hotter. No one was close enough to be bothered by it but Pam, and she did not seem to react to it.
And still I kept on gravitating closer. Because of how he had angled his body toward me, my left arm eventually pressed against his right.
My breathing stuttered, being in such close proximity to him. And I knew he felt it. He had to have felt it. Because I felt him tremble.
And there it was again! That strange rumble emanating from him, from his throat, I could now tell. Now that I was touching him, it was amplified, coursing through me. I tried to pinpoint its essence. It was very much like a growl, the crackling of a fire. And a hum; it reminded me of the way he responded to things without words. Hmmm.
All of it together was a magnetic song. I couldn’t help but listen. Let it lull me into a dream.
I wandered from the lesson for a moment to imagine what it would be like to just feel all of it pressed up against my chest. To embrace him and the heat he radiated.
I wanted to feel his fire whipping around me, not just the heat off him. To embrace a cascade of his flames. washing over me, engulfing me fully.
What would kissing Sasha be like? By the Goddess, the thought of drinking his fire until the persistent ice inside me melted was too tantalizing. If only I could just taste his breath inside my mouth… I wanted to look into his throat where I knew a flickering flame lie in wait. To explore it. Mmm.
It was like some deep ancestral memory was awakening. My breathing grew heavier. I swear to the goddess I heard his breath do the same. Except his breathing was punctuated by the rumbling crackle right under it. I knew he was in the same place I was.
I had to close my eyes and turn my head away from the heat coming off the words from his mouth. Because if I didn’t I would do something about it in that classroom—
“Leila?”
I emerged from my other world, his voice having shaken me from my daydream. I looked back to him.
“Class is over,” he rumbled into my ear quietly, the hotness washing over my neck and face. I rubbed those intense thoughts from my brows but they lingered everywhere else. I inhaled deeply and set about gathering my stuff. My hands shook.
Something hot brushed down my arm as he got up to gather his things. I looked down to see his claw drifting away from it. I thought it was an accident until he glanced at me. He smiled faintly though his brows were intense.
“Let us go,” he said gently, nodding toward the door.
“Okay,” I said, my eyebrow raising in interest. I slipped my bag over my shoulder. When he turned toward the door, I touched the trail of burning scales where he’d run his finger. When I say I could not breathe… I covered my mouth, then just rubbed my face with both hands. I didn’t know what to do. Mercy.
Looking around, my peers were also preparing to leave, so I composed myself the best I could and followed Sasha through the doorway.
—-
Dragontongue had been our last class of the day—”wow, you want that Dragontongue real bad huh?”Pam said— and it was time for us to part ways.
She chatted with Sasha, and I examined him while he was distracted.
I followed his gestures and mannerisms, wondering how he could weave such a spell over me that day. My behavior and my carefully curated facade were usually well under my control, perfected to give nothing away but pleasantness. But this dragon…
What I thought had been a perfect program was utterly interrupted. And the funny thing was, I wasn’t even mad at it. It was a break from the rigidity and monotony of my endless time at school. A break from my own reluctance to invite unknowns to myself, even those I desired. Like him.
For the first time in my life I thought ‘this is what the Sun must feel like to everyone else.’
From the moment I knew myself, my body had been cold. It was a point of contention between me, my parents and my Clan, all the Sun Clans. My mother was literally the leader of the Sun Dragons. And we, Sunscales, were Prime. Named directly after the Goddess.
People thought I was sickly. Anemic they called me. Even worse, some thought I was cursed. Most thought I wasn’t fit to be a leader in the future.
I did not let it stop me. I aimed for absolute perfection to stave off any doubt. Even at the expense of my own happiness sometimes.
My cold scales did not bother me. Although, at times, I wondered if I would be that way forever.
But now, I had felt Sasha’s warmth. This dragon had actually apologized in our first class for giving me the heat I never felt outside of putting my whole hand in a woodfire. It lingered in my scales as if they had drank it. They had awakened from a cold slumber.
I couldn’t go back.
I touched my arm that had been pressed against his, where his claw had grazed. Still hot to the touch. In fact everywhere he had breathed on, been near or looked at blazed. He had touched other things, shook hands with peers, finally, spoken to Pam, and none reacted as if he was exuding endless fire. Just me. Just for me.
“It has been a good day. You two have been so welcoming,” he said graciously. I was broken from my musings, realizing he was leaving. “I hope we continue to be friends during my time here.”
“For sure,” I said without hesitation, a little breathlessly. I didn’t want him to leave. He smiled warmly at me, almost in relief.
Pam smiled too. “Same,” she said. She began to rummage in her bag.
“It was nice to finally meet you,” he said softly to me. He put his hand out. I took it in mine. It was even hotter than before, unless I imagined it. I again put my other hand on top of his as if taking the warmth from it, to hold till later.
I don’t know what possessed me, but I let my thumb slide over the scales on the back of his hand. I didn’t even realize at first. But then I looked up and noticed Sasha was staring at me with his brow raised.
Gods, I could have died right there. Melted right into the floor and fallen into the void.
I almost pulled my hand in embarrassment, but he did not seem startled or upset. Instead Sasha placed his other hand atop mine. His face became intense for a moment, then softened. It seemed that neither of us wanted to let go. We did, though. The moment was brief, but it held much.
Pam, who had glanced up at us, had a barely concealed grin spreading over her face. She broke the spell that had drifted over us.
“Thank you for teaching us all that extra stuff about different dialects. I especially like that ridiculous word with the bricks,” she said, breaking the tense air.
Sasha shook his head as if clearing it. “Of course. I thought you might find that one amusing,” he said. He glanced at his phone, which had vibrated.
“You can lay your bricks on me anytime,” I mumbled to myself, still feeling the heaviness of that moment in my chest. I couldn’t help myself, saying that. I knew good and well it was provocative. I knew he might hear me. My mouth simply didn’t care. It was going to get me in trouble, I just knew it. I stared at my hand in wonder. It felt like fire had spread over it. What was he doing to me? Did he even realize that he was doing something? It didn’t seem like it.
In that same vein, Sasha didn’t say anything; he hadn’t been paying attention, I thought. Probably for the best. But then I heard him say something under his breath.
“Wow,” he whispered, silently laughing. I looked up at him. He covered his eyes, his shoulders shaking.
“Oh shit,” I said, covering my eyes as well.
Pam looked up. “What?” she asked, startled.
Sasha tried his best to keep a straight face, but it was impossible. He just laughed aloud then, a laugh that shook me to the core.
“Shut up,” I said, also laughing. I shielded my face in my hand as if I could hide from the embarrassment.
“I have said nothing,” he pointed out, his hands up.
“Please, please, let’s pretend I didn’t just say that shit,” I pleaded with him.
Pam’s eyes widened. “Oh my gods, what?”
“I will not say, Pam, yet I will never forget it,” Sasha said, smiling widely.
“What?” I replied, shocked.
“I will never forget it,” he repeated.
“By the Goddess Sasha. Are you serious?”
Sasha rubbed his eyes, still chuckling occasionally. “I am. Would you, if you were in my position?”
“Oh my gods,” I said weakly, still covering the side of my face.
Sasha patted his hand on his chest. “Gods, truly I needed today, desperately. It is no trouble to me, that you have said this. Certainly not. Unfortunately, I have a meeting to attend to, but we will discuss this permanent memory later, Leila Sunscale,” he said.
“Yeah, I bet,” I groaned, my voice shakey. I covered my face more. I was out of my mind, surely.
I heard Sasha begin to walk away, but his footsteps slowed. He hesitated, I guessed.
“Leila, do you have plans today?" he asked.
I looked up. He was looking at me expectantly. I couldn’t even say anything. I was still reeling from my ridiculous blunder. Now he wanted to see me! “What? I… umm—“
“No she doesn’t have plans,” Pam spoke up. Bless her.
Sasha smiled. “Perhaps we can speak of our project. I will find you later this evening as long as you are outside. I apologize for my abrupt departure but I must go.”
“Okay, cool,” I said. I rubbed my forehead.
He walked to the exit and looked back at me. “Perhaps we can build something later; I am not a bad mason, Leila Sunscale,” he said, chin raised. My mouth dropped. This dragon…
He let out a deep laugh and left. I watched him disappear through the doors of the hall, then followed him out. I saw a flash of red turn a corner into another building, vanishing from my sight.
"No he didn’t," I said in disbelief. "Did you hear what he just said?" I asked incredulously, gesturing toward his exit.
“What the hells did you say Leila?”
“I may have said a little something about bricks under my breath but his ass heard me. My gods.”
“Are you serious? Girrrrl," Pam said, shaking her head. “The gall on you.”
"Why did I say that? I must be crazy." I placed my hand over my forehead. Hot.
"I mean, he liked it," Pam said. "He thought it was funny. See, no harm done. If anything it sounds like Sasha has some business with you Leila," she teased.
I rubbed my face. I couldn't believe that I had run my mouth like that. In the other hand, I was pleased to have been so reckless. It had led me down this path. My scales prickled despite my embarrassment. Why should I feel bad now? He took my accidental flirtations as an invitation. And wasn’t that what I wanted?
Pam’s demeanor softened.
“Hey, for weeks you’ve been talking about how attracted you are to him. He turned out to be super nice, and he has a sense of humor, too. I like him. Fate is smiling on you again.”
"You sound like my mother," I noted.
“That's 'cause she's always right, isn’t she?" Pam pointed out, brow raised.
“Fine… She is,” I conceded. She would have said those words. In truth I had heard her say them many times.
Resigned to my fate, I stepped into the quad with Pan. I walked into a shaft of sunlight and sat on the bench it spilled onto, the Sun’s rays warming me. I closed my eyes against them, basking.
“I may as well go study while I wait for him. I can’t believe this is happening,” I remarked.
“Well believe it. Your bricklayer is seeing you today,” Pam teased.
“Pam, for real?” I remarked, opening my eyes.
“What? Come on. We can both go study.” Pam hugged me. She looked puzzled though.
“Leila. You feel hot. You never run hot. You’re not having a stroke are you?” she asked, alarmed.
“No. That’s just because he sat next to me the whole day,” I revealed. And breathed on me, leaned on me… I shut my eyes, wishing I had lied.
Pam nodded, not noticing my apprehension. “Oh okay. That makes sense. We did just get out of class. I didn’t know fire dragons were like that just idly,” she mused. “Let’s get on out of here.”
I wanted to tell her what I really felt. But I was sure it would sound crazy. Maybe I would after I met him and spoke to him. Privately.

We walked together through the courtyard. I glanced through the windows of various buildings looking for red scales moving in the halls. I saw nothing, of course.
We ended up going to the library. The room was large and made of ironwood. Small nooks with tables were tucked away amongst large shelves full of tomes.
We chose a table with a window next to it.
I studied as attentively as I could, trying to occupy my mind. But I could not stop seeing Sasha in my vision. Pam gave up trying to get me to engage in conversations with her. Instead I studied for the assignment in Dragonology on my laptop, and daydreamed.
—
“It’s getting late. You don’t know when Sasha will be looking for you.” Pam said, shaking me from my focus.
The light from the windows had waned somewhat, giving way to the Sun readying for slumber.
“Oh, right. I was deep into this essay here. I wish I had borrowed his books and saved my eyes,” I said, rubbing them.
Pam yawned as we packed our things, hefting her bag up. “I’m going to head home. Tell me how everything goes. Tell me if y’all build a house!”
“Pam!” I gasped. “Oh my gods.”
“Love you! Bye!” Pam called, rushing off.
—
I strolled around the grounds reading a book, looking up at the Sun every once in a while. But I didn’t spot Sasha anywhere. I hoped that I had not missed him. I had studied a bit longer than I intended.
Eventually I sat on a bench to wait. I would wait until dusk settled. And if he didn’t show I would see him the following day. It was not as if we had exchanged our numbers.
I pulled out my notebook full of writings, poetry, doodles. It was just one volume from a collection of filled books over the duration of my life, where I pressed flowers of my heart through its pages.
Before I could put pen to paper, I paused.
I put away my old faithful journal and pulled out a new one in deep red. It was not a coincidence by any stretch. I had stared at it on the shelves of an art store until I gave in and bought it.
I hadn’t written one thing in it since. After all, I hadn’t known him, and didn’t want to write only about his appearance. I wanted to know what he was made of. Now, having met Sasha, the red book was begging for ink.
So I let myself fall into a rhythm. So many elements of Sasha had revealed themselves to me that day: this dragon’s voice, his heat, his mannerisms. The words he said, the way he said them, his sense of humor hidden under all that seriousness.
I searched my brain and gathered up all my own words, sifted through them. I wrote a few things here and there, but nothing like what I wanted.
I looked up toward the Sun for some bit of inspiration, and my breath caught. A red form flew in front of it, wings beating. Seeing Sasha framed in that circle of fire was more than I could have hoped for. I stared up at him flying until he stopped, scanning for something.
The moment of inspiration I had been searching for was right there. I spoke aloud what I had and wrote it as swiftly as my claws could move:
“A dragon in a Circle. An Inferno wrapped in the Sun A scarlet vision framed in fire A cloud of embers in the Goddess’s hands She Holds all of him out toward me The gift of a flame within a flame “
I dropped my pen and covered my mouth in embarrassment. “Oh my gods what am I writing?” I asked myself. I stared at the words.
I turned my head to read them as if a new perspective would make them less mortifying.
“Hmm,” I muttered. “Needs some work but…’A flame within a flame.’ That’s some good shit.”
I looked back up. Sasha’s gaze swept over me then away. I waved my arm up at him, bangles jangling, hoping he saw me so he wouldn’t be looking all around all day.
When Sasha looked back in my direction he stopped where he was. He descended slowly until he locked eyes with me. My heart pounded again. It was driving me up the wall, the anxiety. Or rather anticipation. I pressed my hand to my chest watching him grow closer. His wings were huge, blocking out the Sun.
I had been staring at Sasha from a distance since he had arrived, his very first day. He was imposing, the way he had entered my classes, but exceptionally polite. I had been silently competing with him since laying eyes on his grades.
Now the distance was finally closed after my nervousness had kept me away. I folded my notebook shut and stood as Sasha landed with a woosh of air.
I looked upon him not as a mysterious figure in the back of class but as a new friend. More. I couldn’t help but smile when he straightened his already straight clothes as he moved toward me.
He smiled right back at me, chin raised.
“Leila,” he said.
“Sasha. Hey,” I replied.
“So,” he said, “you spoke of bricks earlier,” he teased.
My mouth dropped again. This dragon…
“You aren’t letting that go are you?” I asked.
“Never. Even if nothing ever came of it, I would never forget.”
“By the gods,” I muttered.
“I am not complaining,” he clarified.
My eyes widened. Then it occurred to me that he had insinuated something would come of it. Goddess, I felt my own fire sweep across my cheeks. I was so flustered I covered my mouth with the heel of my palm letting my claws settle over my cheek. I couldn’t stop the motion fast enough.
Sasha laughed good naturedly. Sweetly, even. “I will stop teasing. For now,” he said.
“For now?” I repeated past my palm.
“For now.”
I lowered my hand. “You are a trip, do you know that?” I said, raising my eyebrow. Even though I had been nervous, actually talking to him made me feel like meeting all his words head on.
He gestured for me to walk beside him without answering. I did. I almost took his arm again, so I clutched my notebook to my chest to keep my hands in check. We didn’t say much as we walked along the quad together.
Some students were staring at us as we walked. I suppose we made quite the pair together.
“It appears we are a bit of a spectacle,” he muttered to himself curiously, agreeing with my thoughts.
I couldn’t help stealing glances at him every once in a while.
His posture was impecable. He held his left hand behind his back. The other lingered in front of his chest as if ready for something. I didn’t know how else to describe it. It was interesting, that pose; deliberate. I saw that he had rings on his fingers as well. I had not noticed them before. They were red like his scales, rough hewn. The overall pose made him seem so stately.
I couldn’t quite describe his expression. It was both intense and peaceful all at once.
He caught me staring one time, though. He was looking right at me when I peeked. I turned away and put a hand to my face. I hoisted up my bag.
“Here,” he said.
I turned back. “Here what?” I asked.
He put his hand out to me, gesturing toward my bag. I stopped walking.
“Oh. Okay. Such a gentleman,” I said, a smile playing on my face, impressed. He chuckled to himself, accepting my compliment.
I slipped my bag from my shoulder, and he took it to hold on his elbow. We started walking again. I didn’t care after that; I looked at him openly, a little bit enamored.
‘Ok Mr. Sasha Emberscale. I see you,’ I thought.
PART 2

From the log of Edward Price – Clerk for Diplomat Howard Weathers – 03.28.2803
I suppose a summary is in order for things to be clear. Humanity has a bit of a reputation as an odd lot in the galaxy. Most aliens don’t know really know what to think about us. You see, most aliens are actually somewhat boring, having fallen into galactic societal niches over thousands of years. The Atroxians are were space pirates, the Vontacruz own the casinos and travel cruise industries, and the Hordun operate the most efficient morgues this side of the galaxy – usually because of the Atroxians. But the Delridians? They are diplomats. And dare I say that they are the weird ones.
Delri Prima is the homeworld of the Delridians, a tall, lanky race who look like the grimdark cousins of a Star Wars Kaminoan. Brilliant medics, they apparently don’t see a difference between medical work and diplomacy, seeing both fields as the healing arts. Their medicocracy has a long list of accomplishments throughout the galaxy, enough that it’d look like an 18-hour credit reel on a movie. My guess is that they may have been the “Humans” of the galaxy preceding us before they finally settled, and rumors have it that the K’kituun Death Puppets are an ancient offshoot from their early days on the galactic stage.
But more to the point, after about 180 years on the galactic stage, Humanity has made a decent name for ourselves as the handyman and eccentric nerd. We are celebrated, thrown strange looks, worried glances, and altogether treated as small children. Though with the destruction of Axtroxia, they may want to worry about what will happen when we hit puberty. The Delridians have already been through that, though they were never as eccentric as we are.
They reached out to Humanity with a diplomatic frigate appropriately named Olive Branch about a year ago. I’ve learned they like to reflect the cultures they are talking to, so as to ease negotiations. Can’t imagine what the Atroxian equivalent was. Probably something like ‘Torn Heads’. Regardless, Diplomat Weathers was finally selected as the Earth delegate to talk on Delri Prima, and oh boy. That is a dark world. Like, bring a flashlight dark. I don’t know whether it is the slow spin of the planet, or the climate generators they have, but the entire twilight band is just dark and grey. It rains, and thankfully it is safe water, but it is eerie. From the embassy city they built to make us more comfortable, you can look out across the Delridian jungle and see the many other diplomatic cities slowly being devoured by the vines and trees.
The first night was fine, though I’m not sure any of us slept well. We were each provided a separate room or, well, house really. The entire city was made of a cold stone, themed after some old Italian city on Earth. The wind slipped through the narrow streets with a soft whistle, bringing with it a faint jungle fog. Somewhere down the street was a clattering window shutter, but with how much stone they used, and the strange alignment of the streets, you could hear a pin drop from eight blocks away!
Talks went well for the first three days as Diplomat Weathers and the Delridians got to know each other. I met with and discussed a number of cultural similarities with a member of the alien entourage, a Nurse Kelayo, when I wasn’t with the others in my group exploring the city. She was very proud of the settlement they built for us, but in our talks, she asked what we thought of the book. What book?
Well, after having a wonderful meal with my coworkers and some of the alien entourage, we said our farewells and parted ways. Kelayo was vague, but had explained how they had acquired a copy of the book, and that she hoped that we enjoyed the effort she put into it.

I didn’t look into it immediately when I returned to the lonely, lifeless house that was my quarters. Mark was my closest neighbor, and he was a block down. The Delridians, fresh from talks with the Hordun, thought we may want some privacy from each other. And while it is nice not having to hear Mark snore in the cabin like on the flight here, the house was a little… too private.
It was as I was preparing to turn off the light to go to sleep that I thought to look in the nightstand beside me. Kelayo had told us about the book, and when I opened the top drawer, it was indeed there. Sitting center and alone was an old Earth book of gnarled leather and no visible title. Whatever poor creature the Delridians had used to make the cover had terrible skin!
Opening the book, I found it to have been printed in an old dialect of English from before the Third World War, with some much older words I did not recognize. It certainly looked like it was printed in the archaic methods of old Earth, with wet ink instead of modern digital ink that provided touch-based pseudo-memoric context.
I began to flip through the pages of this strange book, turning up the brightness on the nightstand lamp to see better. The faded pages of the book looked sick and moldy, and my skin crawled just touching it, but the letters, despite the stains and grunge, seemed to pop from the page in crisp black. In fact, the ink was so black that it felt like I was staring into the void with each letter. Kelayo’s book was some archaic text of old Earth culture from the end of the 20^th century, though I did not recognize the name. Written by a Bishop Simon from some archaic cult or religion, the book functioned as a “spellbook” like a deepdive virtual reality fantasy game might have. It was filled with a plethora of gods I did not recognize, and a ton of phonetic gibberish that sounded good when said, but easily complicated.
I hadn’t gotten too far when I heard a man’s scream next to me. Jumping out of my skin, I found no one there. But I remembered where I was, and crept to the window. It was Mark’s voice, more panicky than I had ever heard him. Peeking through the slats of the window, I scanned the street towards Mark’s place. The light was on, and someone was shuffling down the street, murmuring in pain.
Rushing down to the street, I rushed out to help him. Mark’s mutterings were too quiet, and he was holding something to his chest. It may have been a minute before I collected myself and tried to get answers from him, but you have to understand, I’ve never seen a dying man before. Not in real life. In the dim and permanent gloom, I could barely make out the trail of blood behind him. He pleaded again and again, and I had to find out where he was injured, and what it was he was carrying.
I went to take what he held, only to realized that in my own fervor to aid him I still had that creepy book. I put that down to wrench free Mark’s own possession. I really wish I hadn’t, for his grip was weak, with only one hand. I held his other, and everything above it.
My own voice was the next I heard echoing down the street as I most certainly fell backwards. Sorry Mark, but I lost your arm. Well, your first one. The second is decorating some chandelier somewhere, courtesy of Vanessa.
Please understand that for anyone in my situation, gorey horror was never my fancy, and I hope no one in the auditing board holds it against me. I would bet credits that any of you would have done much the same as I did.
Time is… unreliable on Delri Prima, with its twilit band and gloom. The only thing that moves is that blasted fog. And the vines. Especially the vines. I’m not sure how long I ran, but Vanessa was the one to find me, flanked by a street littered with Human bodies. Far more people than joined us on the crew… I think. You might want to review the ship manifest just to be sure.
Vanessa, once she verified my identity, guided me through the littered street, still gurgling and reaching out to us. Give her a raise, by the way. She’s the one that got us out of there. We met up with Dwayne and Harry, both armed with metal pipes and whatever other junk they salvaged, and we retreated to a boarded up house with other surviving members of the crew. They were glad to see me, though I don’t remember who they were. Many were new faces to the ship for this mission.
We settled here for hours? A day? Our comms were filled with static, and we couldn’t reach Mr. Weathers to see if he was ok. We needed to get off this planet. Someone mentioned that the ship was still parked at the landing bay. All eyes turned to someone in the back of the group, who slowly stood up, her form long and lanky. Kelayo, the Delridian nurse.
Vanessa worked with Kelayo on a plan to move through the city to the landing bay, while the rest of us sought supplies. This house had a basement, connected to a series of tunnels which we would use to slip under whatever muttering, mumbling horrors pleaded us to come outside.
Slowly, and as quietly as we could, our train of survivors crept through the tunnels. Our flashlights that Ben had found were pathetically dim, and frequently flickered out, sounding with a loud clunk whenever someone whacked it awake. Icy water dripped from the long tangled hairs of wriggling moss that clung to and between the bricks, the lights illuminating white lice-like that lived within the tangle.
Splashing was the only sound we heard for a long time, along with someone’s horrid cough. He was in the back of the line, far behind me, but kept coughing and groaning. Others frequently shushed him, louder than he coughed. But for all the good their efforts to keep him quiet were, it paled in comparison to Kelayo’s odd excitement. When I inquired her about her unusual positivity, she admitted fascination over the many accounts of average Humans combatting the supernatural evils that threatened Earth. How we could survive on a planet infested with the dead with only equally dark magicks astounded her, despite our culture not having widespread knowledge or application of this means of survival. It was faint, but she had nodded at the book. Why did I still have this disgusting leatherback that seemed to shiver in the cold?
I apologize for any impact I may have had on diplomatic relations with the Delridians, but I said some uncouth remarks about the whole situation and the book. I flipped it open to a random page to give an example, forgetting in my annoyance just how dark it was in the tunnels. But that ink… that horrid archaic stain… was fully legible. I admit I came to a stop in awe, though shortlived as the train of people behind me bumped into me. That coughing was gone.
So were half the people we had been travelling with. Kelayo glanced around with a chitter. She was having too much fun with the spooky, and now we heard skittering and scrape scrape scraping on the bricks. Vanessa fired a shot down the tunnel and urged us to run, so we did.
We were near the landing bay when we ducked into a sideroom per Kelayo’s prompting, and shoved a convenient table in the way of the door. The skittering was above us on the ground floor too, and then someone grabbed my foot. It may have been Mark. Well, the part of Mark I dropped.
Long gnarled fingers covered in dirt were the hallmark of these freaky things. Human hands with a life of their own, skittering around like bugs as they fled the flashlight’s beam and sought dark corners. These shelters included their unholy wriggling up our pants and jackets, some grips strong and muscular, and others gentle and cautious. If you have ever had a massage, you may never want one again once a chilly, slimy, dismembered hand tries to nest between your shoulder blades.
Vanessa fired off a few shots in her desperate attempt to keep the grabby hands off, though she nicked Ben’s ear in the process. The loud noise scattered the skitterhands enough for us to fling the last few from our persons. Vanessa slammed the book I still carried, ordering me to read it. She had lost her copy early on, but had the gist of its contents.
The ink on the book was darkest on one particular page, with a weird symbol that looked like it said XOOD. An old-Earth linguist may understand it better than I. Kelayo was forced to provide guidance, as she was the expert on the book, and with many, many attempts, and a dark horde gathering upstairs, were ready to begin. Vanessa was out of shots in her gun, and Ben and Dwayne were futiley pushing back the horde of impossible crewmen. These people smelled horribly of rotten meat, and overtook Ben first, followed swiftly by Dwayne.
Vanessa had backed into a corner, clearly scared. I can’t blame her, since I was, too. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t join her in the false safety of the corner. The rotten crew… this dead crew, was in the room with us, and were already grabbing me. Amidst the noise and confusion, I could hear Vanessa being attacked behind me, and the dull nails of my own assailants tearing at my skin. Kelayo, her form thin and dark, simply stood amidst the dead.
Read it, she said.
Say it with all your heart.
I remember the word that pierced the world that day, but can’t remember saying it. But my throat burns whenever I utter it now. BARASHAKUSHU. The dead froze in place, their fingers dug deep into my skin. BARASHAKUSHU. Limp, lifeless, just as they should be. BARASHAKUSHU. The haze in the air, even in the basement, lifted. BARASHAKUSHU. Vanessa breathed deep as I pulled her from the bodies and out the house to the crowded, lifeless street.
We limped, though we did not bleed, filled with holes and grime, and caked in blood. Kelayo followed wraithlike behind us, always ten paces behind. The landing bay was before us. Our ship and salvation was before us.
Diplomat Weathers was fine, though alarmed at our state. Delridian doctors tended to us as we explained what happened. A full transcript is available via the ship’s DIA-Log.
When all was said and done, the Delridian diplomat thanked us for being so willing to open discourse. To celebrate successful talks between our species, he offered us a parting feast. He motioned Kaleyo over, who had apparently been tasked with researching Human culture for the talks.
She explained over dinner about how she had poured over a stunning variety of Human dishes from our many cultures, but that she had settled on one that appeared to be a universal favorite. An Italian dish of long, stringy noodles over their equivalent of a white cream sauce. And dinner was fantastic! But Kaleyo seemed confused as well, stating that she had a difficult time picking out the right recipe. The instructions were apparently all over the place with a lot of strange steps that seemed superfluous to food preparation.
I asked her what she meant, to which she replied, “The base ingredients were simple, almost mundane. Of note, the various rituals in the preparation exhausted many of our best doctors. Some are still seeking treatment after one batch escaped. You Humans have a very strange culture of food, especially with the names. I believe you called this one… creepy pasta?”
Then the meatball on my fork blinked at me.

I was diagnosed with Ibs and chronic gastritis I also have a fatty liver and I’m only 31. I’ve had pain where my liver is for years have had many ultra sounds and ct scans and all are good. A few months ago I ate salmon and that night I woke up with a throbbing sensation in my upper right abdomen. Slowly but surely I’ve gotten sicker and sicker. I went to the doc and they said I had low vitamin d. The vitamin d made me sicker so I stopped taking it. I recently have gotten even sicker.. cant function my pain is worse I’m nauseas all the time. I had to stop working because it’s so debilitating. My doc prescribed me carafe and it helped my ulcers but I still had the gnawing pain in my right abdomen. I’m am convinced this is my gallbladder but all the doctors said my cat scan and ultra sound look fine. I have a gi appointment in a month but I feel like I can’t wait a month. Did anyone’s legs hurt burn. The back of them and the buttocks.

I’ve been having this weird chest pain for about two weeks - it’s on the left side, but it’s more like a pinching pain in a certain spot (not crushing, severe, no other heart attack like symptoms). Sometimes it’s more diffuse and burning, but it’s not a severe pain. It happens very randomly - it isn’t tied to exertion, breathing, and I honestly only usually notice it when I’m thinking about it. If I get busy, it rarely happens, but it does sometimes pop up when I’m not thinking about it.
I have severe anxiety and PTSD, and also some health PTSD from a near death experience last year. However, I’ve never had a random pain in my chest like this that doesn’t just go away after a day or two?
I already take medicine for GERD, I do have a large abdominal hernia (lower in my abdomen though), I take BP meds, and I had an EKG in Jan for a similar pain that was normal.
Could my anxiety be causing such a consistent, random pain? I started buspirone about a week and a half ago so I know it hasn’t reached its full effect, but it just seems so weird that I keep having this “pain” randomly when I’m not especially anxious.

You’re a damn fool, you know that?”, said Gemeti.
After they arrived at the palace, Lord Gyholt’s servants showed them to their quarters where they would stay with the Fursaglan lord’s own staff. It was a spacious set of rooms, whitewashed walls and a light breeze gliding in from the outside bringing in the awful smell of the city’s smoke. They seemed nice enough though there was no way to communicate anything to them since neither group knew the other’s tongue. Gemeti took a reluctant Ettu away from the main group to chastise her in a corner of the room.
Ettu sighed heavily, “Yes, I know. You’ve done nothing but tell me since I joined Lord Palanu’s service. He can punish me if he wants to. That Marhuk’s smile and laughter would be worth every bit of misery”. She could still picture that beautiful smile he had that made her heart skip a beat.
The other woman put her fists in her hips, “What would your mother say about this?”.
Ettu laughed, “She would hand me a flask of animal fat”.
Gemeti blushed and sucked in her breath in irritation before throwing her head back in a guffaw. That’s when Ettu knew she had her. Her mother always told her to win people over with a smile and a jest and ever since it had worked like a charm and got her out of trouble many times. The other woman stopped suddenly when she realized she was loud enough to draw the gaze of several of the other servants but then giggled more quietly with Ettu.
The giggling was cut short when a Fursaglan servant hurriedly entered the room and closed the door behind him. He leaned against the door as if bracing himself to prevent anyone else from coming in.
One of the other Fursaglan servants walked up to him and asked a question. Before he could answer, a sword ran through his back and out of his stomach and spat blood out. The worried man screamed and coughed blood as the door hinges broke and the door itself crushed him. Through the door, came a man in silver armor, other armed men behind him. The warrior was big and muscular which left Ettu in no doubt that he broke the door down by himself. He hacked down the inquisitive servant, killing him with two blows to the head.
One woman belted out an ear splitting scream, cut short by the murderer’s quick dash towards her, ramming his obsidian sword through her heart. Another woman began running for the window which led the others to do the same. More assailants filtered in, slashing at more men and women and creating a pool of gore and guts.
“Oh fuck!”, said Ettu.
Gemeti took her hand and pulled her away from the bloodshed and into the window. But all the servants rushed through at the same time, leaving none of them free to jump out. Hemmed in to one side of the room, they made it easier for the warriors to cut them down.
Gemeti’s face was struck with horror, “Gods! They killed them. Just slashed them like lumberjacks at a forest”.
The first intruder cleaved her head off with his already gory sword. The warrior had been sawing off another servant’s arm when he saw her with an almost feral expression on his face and jumped at her. Blood flew at Ettu’s face, a gasp all that escaped her. She never had it in her to scream but that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared.
Piss slithered down her legs as she knelt before him, “Please don’t kill me. I don’t want to die”, with hands held up as if she could stop a sword swing.
The warrior smiled at her fear, enjoying every second of it. Through his grin he said with a thick accent, “Die, Aroloth”.
Suddenly, one of her hands turned bright green. A sharp pain surged through her arm and manifested itself in a lance of fire, blasting from her palm and into the murderer’s chest. He fell down, never knowing what killed him.
At the north wing of the palace, Lord Gyholt was gesturing at his Sentinels, barking out orders and cursing at his manservant to put the armor on faster. He had men watch the windows to gauge the enemy numbers and servants cowering at a corner. Meanwhile, Palanu calmly ran an oilcloth along his khopesh and swung it around to test it amidst all the chaos in the room. Two of his guards flanking him.
“Asula! Go with Mazni and his brothers. By Crudas! Where’s Marhuk?”, said Gyholt as he swore by the Fursaglan god of warriors.
The throne room was a cream-colored, marble representation of Fursagla’s history with intricately etched bass reliefs of the Eagle Kings and their households. The images were everywhere, in each floor tile, round pillar, step in the dais, and the very throne itself. The whole place seemed to burst with reminders of Fursagla’s martial glory as if a man might quickly forget it.
“What’s the best route to the barracks?”, asked the Aroloth lord.
Gyholt shooed his manservant away once he was done, “What? You mean to go out there? Wait for me and my Sentinels. We can go out together to rescue your men”.
A man’s howl of pain took both lords’ attention. One of the watchers was pierced with an arrow in the clavicle. A warrior climbed in through the window as the watcher sobbed at his pain, the sobbing man grew quiet as a sword thrust to the temple ended him. More assailants entered, killing another watcher with a spear through the skull.
Immediately the Sentinels ran to their lord in a wall of bronze and hides and slammed their shields into the ground with an intimidating, “Huh!”. The enemies quickly swarmed the room, tearing arms and slashing necks all the while of any man not behind the Sentinels or Palanu and his guards. One assailant in particular wore Dendra armor and a plumed helmet with cheek pieces and a grim smile plastered on his face.
“Gojan”, said Lord Gyholt.
“Gyholt”, said Gojan son of Asgena.
“Where’s your father? If we could get to him then we can end all this senseless violence and make amends”, said the Fursaglan lord.
The nobleman sneered, “What makes you think we’re stupid enough to believe that?”.
“You were stupid enough to attack my palace”, retorted the former rebel.
The younger man snarled and shouted an order to attack. His men charged, bringing to bear wrathful blows and glory-hounding sprints. Palanu and his two guards (Sylon and Naru-zim) braced for impact, holding khopeshs and tower-like shields except for the Aroloth lord.
Even with the lack of shield, Palanu held his khopesh before him, giving vicious strokes with its hungry edge to the first man that faced him. The warrior had barely grown his chin hairs when he threw himself at the noble with wide eyes and panicky spear thrusts. The khopesh darted out and banged against his copper helmet. While his opponent was dazed, Palanu quickly reversed his grip and hooked the young man’s shield, pulling him away from his companions as if a babe from a nest of vipers. Only the babe landed in a nest of cobras. Once he stole away the shield, the Aroloth pushed the tip of his sword through his gullet and tore it out with a strip of flesh dangling in the hilt. The fight lasted less than two seconds.
The room became a cauldron of action as men on both sides jabbed and pushed each other, a red flood spilling into the floor. In the midst of this battle, Gojan saw Palanu’s prowess with his khopesh. After killing his first opponent, the lord let the next man come only to hack him down with equal vigor. His beautiful, sky blue sleeves became drenched in crimson blood, spit adorned his forehead, fire burned behind his eyes.
The magma in his veins coursed through his body, his whole world narrowed down to his blade and his next victim. He killed them all, the ugly, the beautiful, the sad, and the happy. Gojan watched it all traverse before him. With greedy determination, he pushed past his men to get to the Aroloth lord.
“AROLOTH!”, he bawled.
Sylon saw him first whilst his lord slew yet another traitor and bellowed out a war cry to call him out. The Fursaglan noble fixed his eyes on the bronze-armored guard and stomped towards him, bashing the heads of the remnants of the fighting men still not in formation, chunks of brain-matter and skull-bone flew up and rained down, adding to the collage of death unleashed by Asgena.
Sylon’s khopesh wove a tapestry of slaughter as he ended the lives of men who stood between him and Gojan. There was no speech by either man like in the songs, no ceremonies like in Strohinite duels or war dances like in the Demon Isles, just the fight. Mace met khopesh, stone against bronze. The bronze-armored man expected to get a few chips off his opponent’s weapon but had realized it was spell-bound. Gojan grinned nastily as he belted out an animal growl that caused it to glow a deep purple and they clashed again.
The blade juddered and nearly leapt from Sylon’s grasp this time, but he bit his tongue in determination and his knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip. The mace spat lightning and hissed with every touch. Another series of clashes pelted Sylon’s khopesh with many notches. Battle-madness held him, veins popped out along his hands and forehead. The Fursaglan noble lost his grin and sweat beaded his brow as he only barely swept aside yet another lunge from the guard.
Though he was an expert warrior trained from birth, Gojan only ever fought against peasants in the battlefield. Unbeknownst to him, Sylon was as blueblooded as he was and was considered gifted for his young age. When the son of Asgena realized the man wasn’t going down, he grew desperate, driving harder swings into his opponent and expending more of his strength.
Sylon realized this and simply let his shield take the beating. The cured hides blackened and light wisps of smoke rose from the places the Fursaglan bashed with his mace. The Aroloth man’s muscles jolted, the slight twinge of fear that belied his defence fueling his every move and stratagem. With a twist of wrist, the mace slid by and took the Fursaglan’s momentum with it. Out balanced and out maneuvered, Gojan was at the mercy of Sylon’s blade. The tortured khopesh sank deep with a vengeance between shoulder and neck.
Nerveless fingers dropped the mace, the deep purple glow dissolving into thin air. The noble warrior himself staring at the ground with glazed eyes and dripping blood. Sylon slid the khopesh out and much of his neck with it. Before the body dropped on the floor, the guardsman yelled out, “For the Emperor!”, as he awaited the next foe.
Naru-zim fought methodically, cold calculation and ruthless determination guiding his strikes and parries. Both khopesh and shield were trained for offense and defense and narrow was the window which a man could strike true against a foe like him. Nary a flinch shook him from his deep concentration from the killing, slicing flesh with a butcher’s precision and sending souls to the River Vim which was his people’s concept of the afterlife. He made no war cry, he let his blade do the talking. And it sang a bloody chorus as men fell like trees in a logging camp. After his last swing felled another man, he noticed the rest of the traitors were retreating with tails between their legs. Cowards, he thought. A man should stand and fight until his lifeblood oozed from him.
Palanu wiped his khopesh in the cleaner parts of his clothing, “Peace be with you”, he said to the dead men who were his victims.
“They were traitors to our God, Lord Palanu. No men are less deserving of mercy as these”, said Naru-zim as he stabbed a groaning traitor and left him in a pool of his own blood.
“Mercy is a gift of the righteous, my friend. A man is not judged more than when he has the upper hand”.
Naru-zim bowed at his lord politely before he turned a corpse over and pushed his khopesh into its neck. When Sylon strayed from them to kill more of the wounded, he barked out, “Sylon! What are you doing?”.
The other guard turned to him, “What do you think? Killing the enemy”.
Naru-zim screwed up his face in anger, “Our job’s to protect Lord Palanu not running off after the enemy”.
“How else do you protect him if not by killing the enemy?”, said Sylon, flabbergasted.
“Enough, both of you”, growled Palanu, “Like a pair of old wives, you are. We are still in the presence of Lord Gyholt and his Sentinels. Don’t shame the Emperor’s name”.
The two guards muttered their apologies and Sylon jogged back to Palanu’s side.
Lord Palanu approached Lord Gyholt and gave him an apologetic smile, “Please forgive the disgrace you witnessed, my lord. My men are… young and untested in the realm of manners and discipline”.
The Fursaglan lord nodded in understanding, “They are like brothers. I’m certain it is merely their eagerness to serve”.
Palanu nodded thankfully yet in the back of his head he was disappointed. ‘All my life I’ve heard of the many glorious deeds of the guardians of the God. I never pictured them bickering amongst themselves’.

Hello everyone, thought I'd post here with what's going on and maybe ask some questions for other womens' experiences for large ovarian cysts. I'm 25 and just found out a 4cm cyst doubled in size in a month, have to have surgery soon.
Bg: I didn't have health insurance for a long time, worked through college, and am in my first corporate FT job with benefits (yay) and the first thing I went for was to the gyno. I knew that some ovarian cyst issues ran through my family, with my Aunt experiencing a 10 cm cyst removal at 33, and a hysterectomy at 35 with pcos. My grandma had endometriosis, buts that's all we know for family history.
So knowing roughly the symptoms of cysts, I figured I had some abnormal stuff going on since I was 16, I'm 25 now and have always had insane heavy flow periods, very painful, with digestive issues and joint pain monthly. And sharp pains outside of periods so it was a no brainer to me that I had cysts and my first appt with the gyno confirmed that. 4cm on right ovary, one small 1 cm on left ovary (oct 23).
We switched me to a kyleena iud from the copper one I had put in before college. Check up was promising in January, 1 cm on right ovary and 1 cm on left. Periods were next to nothing with the hormonal iud, pain was nothing like before and so slight. Heavenly.
But then- and without warning- April's period was insane. The day of my start on the 20th- a sudden and severe onset of cramps, sweating, nausea, i for sure thought a rupture of a cyst. It was a weekend, went to the er (rip to my wallet), and all that was confirmed after blood, ct of abdominal, and intravaginal ultrasound was "yes you have cysts, non ruptured, you have a high white blood cell count" and was sent home after 6 hrs. Pain passed after 2 days of a very tender lower abdomen, unlike any cramps I've had.
Had a gyno appt on may 23rd for an ultrasound check for iud placement and one final check in. Told them what happened and they got the ultrasound from the hospital, that a month prior my right cyst had grown to 4cm at the time of April 20th. We did the ultrasound and that same cyst is 8 cm now, it doubled in size in a month. Surgery for removal is in 2 weeks, I'm scared for my first surgery and just trying to hang in there with this apple sized cyst, along with 3 new small size cysts on my left ovary.
I've been having lots of cramps daily but in the past day it's been like non stop nausea. I've never been so nauseas before, I have a strong stomach and have difficulty throwing up so it's just misery. I've been trying to avoid extra activity, bending down a lot, or even baths in fear of a rupture or ovarian torsion. Just been using a heating pad and no medicine, I take ibuprofen when I have to with cramps and don't like taking it all the time.
Does anyone have any advice for pain relief, nausea relief, teas or diet, or any advice for the upcoming lapriscopy for an 8 cm cyst removal? Thank you.

What could be the reason for upper left chest pain after exercising? Even when I am just doing cardio I sometimes get the pain in my upper left chest and it’s above my heart. I had an EKG 2 weeks ago and they said it looked all good and I also had an ECG when I was about 10 and had a healthy heart they said.
I have lots of anxiety and drink caffeine + don’t eat the best diet and may have higher blood pressure than most. I had a heart monitor test done through my hospital (wore a monitor for 72 hours) about a week ago and they haven’t said anything is wrong to me yet.
Anyone know if this is actually a serious issue or could it be just anxiety related? I don’t really know what to do and it causes me a ton of stress.

So I have told my story in response to some posts and basically I used the Joel Spitzer method and quit cold turkey again for the 4 time(although I believe I stick the landing now) and have been smoke free for about a month. My stomach has always been very problematic since my teen years(I am 41 now) and smoking certainly ruined my already destroyed esophagus.
I wholeheartedly believe I'll eventually get cancer in that region when I am older but that's neither here or there.
Anyway I noticed that my symptoms vastly increased after quitting.
My throat is basically constantly on fire and leads to a nasty cough as well as annoying tickle throat that leads to more violent coughing.
Recently I took a bunch of medication and my burning hole in my chest has reduced itself to a mere simmer but my throat is still in pain(silent reflux, mixed with active reflux) I did some drastic changes in my diet(cut out sodas, any type of fat etc) does anyone else suffer from this? I also noticed an increase in painful post nasal drip which might be from the stomach acid and or just gunk from before.
How long did it take during smoking cessation to calm the eye of the storm(acid filled shit hole stomach)

When I was ten, I formed a junior detective squad.
Mom bought me the entire box set of What's New Scooby Doo, and I was inspired to start my very own detective gang. I held auditions outside the gymnasium at recess (serious enquiries only) after a number of kids tried to apply for the role of Scooby Doo despite me reiterating I was not interested in playing make believe.
When I was laughed at in class, I made posters strictly asking for SERIOUS wannabe detectives, even going as far as using my Mom’s printer to make flyers, sticking them all over the school.
Auditions were simple. I asked them to solve a simple riddle.
Whoever impressed me got to sign their name down, and I’d get back to them.
I spent three days sifting through kids who definitely had charm, but they lacked the intelligence of a junior detective. Most kids were only auditioning to make fun of me, anyway.
Still, though, I didn't give up.
My flyers had five requirements:
1). You had to be smart.
2). You were not allowed to be a scaredy cat.
3). You had to accept your inevitable death at the hands of our town’s evil villains.
4). You had to have a fully registered driving licence (I quickly changed this to a bike).
5). You cannot have a criminal record.
(I later scribbled this one out, writing over it. *“You cannot have any tardies.”
Narrowing the applicants down to three kids, all of whom failed to share my enthusiasm for solving cases. The kids I picked didn't even know how to make plans, and when I invited them to my house, they stole my Mom’s necklace.
I didn't even need to solve the mystery of who stole Mom’s necklace. The girl was wearing it at school. I punched her in the face, and was immediately sent to the principal’s office. When I was being given the mother all lectures, the door quietly opened, a head peeking through.
It was Ben Callows, a freckly kid with overgrown brown hair hanging in his eyes. Ben really needed a haircut.
He was always wearing the exact same baseball cap, and I found myself wondering if it was permanently glued to his head, stuck on top of unruly brown curls practically matted to his forehead.
In class, Ben was also known as Bloody Ben. In the second grade, the boy had a nosebleed in the middle of a spelling test, bleeding all over his paper.
It's not like he didn't try and detach himself from the name.
Ben brought in Digimon cards, so kids would call him Digimon Ben instead.
Then he “accidentally” spilled yoghurt down his shirt in hopes we would call him Yoghurt Ben. But no. The kids in our class were relentless in reminding him of his name. No matter what he did, he was still Bloody Ben, and when anything related to blood came up in class, fifteen pairs of eyes would swivel to him, like he had invented the concept of bleeding.
I feared the nickname would follow him to junior high.
Ben didn't wait to be let in. He didn't even knock, striding in with his arms folded. Over the years, Bloody Ben, had definitely soured his personality.
He smiled rarely, and when he did smile, someone was falling over or hurting themselves.
Which definitely strengthened the claims of him being a sociopath.
The rumor mill was churning, with the latest claiming Bloody Ben killed his cat. That wasn't true. Ben’s cat was seventeen with cancer, and that was why he was sobbing all the way through reading time.
According to Ellie Daly, however, Ben had killed and dissected his kitty, and buried her in his Mom’s flowers.
Now, my principal did not like being interrupted, especially when she was in the middle of screaming at me.
Principal Marrow was old old (like, thirty, in my ten year old mind) stick thin like a pencil, and always wore the same stained sweater.
She used to be pretty, but I was convinced she had kissed a frog and been cursed. After our old principal suffered a stroke, she stepped in as a temporary replacement, and since becoming principal, had banned my favorite book series, colored shoe laces, and hamburger helper, even officiating a uniform.
(vomit green shorts and a tee, and plain white sneakers).
Kids were convinced she was a witch, and I kind of believed it.
Principal Marrow’s whole existence was built on sucking the fun out of school.
I was already reprimanded for my mystery gang flyers.
Her office smelled of peppermint and she was definitely sneaking sips of whisky in her coffee cup. I could see the bottle sticking out of the trash.
She straightened up, folding her arms across her chest, squinty eyes narrowing at the boy. I had spent the whole time she was lecturing me trying not to cry, my fists bunched in my lap.
I took the distraction as the perfect opportunity to swipe at my eyes, allowing myself to breathe.
Ben Callows was her victim now.
I was right. The woman's voice was like a thunderclap in my ears.
“You better have a good reason for not knocking, young man.”
Ben wasn't fazed by her tone. “You took my Switch two weeks ago,” he said, “I want it back, or I’m telling my Mom.”
At first, I thought I'd misheard him.
No, I was pretty sure he'd threatened our principal.
I swore I heard all of the breath sucked from the room.
“I'm sorry,” Principal Marrow cleared her throat. Her soft tone was dangerous.
She wasn't being nice. The lady was about to explode.
I could see visible veins straining in her temples, her right eye twitching.
It was straight out of a cartoon.
“Did you forget something, Ben?”
Ben sighed, like she was inconveniencing him.
He held out his hand. “Please can I have my Switch back? It counts as stolen property. Give it back, or I'm telling my Mom.”
The kid put so much emphasis on the word please, I couldn't resist a smile.
I think our principal was too shocked to get angry.
“Get out.” She said, firmly. “I don't have your gaming device.”
“It's in your drawer.” Ben nodded to her desk, “Under your divorce papers and the restraining order ordered by Jake Willow, the seventeen year old boy you've been having math ‘tutoring sessions’ with.” He quoted the air, his gaze lazily rolling to me. “Tutoring”
Principal Marrow went deathly pale, her eyes darkening.
“Benjamin Callows–”
“The school already knows about the restraining order, but your uncle is the head of the Board of Education, so all you get is a slap on the wrist and a warning to leave the boy alone."
Ben continued, and I found myself mesmerised by his words. He was a natural, his expression stoic, mouth curved with satisfaction that wasn't quite a smile. “However.” He held up his phone, pulling it away at the exact moment the teacher attempted to grab it. “You were outside Jake Willow’s house at 6:12am, drunk, and trying to climb through his window, which, I think violates the restraining order, does it not?”
Ben pretended to think real hard, his gaze flicking to the ceiling.
“I mean, I'm just a kid, right?” His mouth curled into the hint of a smirk
“What do I know, huh?”
Principal Marrow’s expression twisted, her lip wobbling.
“Mr Callows, remove yourself from my office, or I am calling your father.”
Leaning comfortably against the door, Ben’s lip twitched.
“Why? Are you planning on telling my Dad about your relations with a teenage boy, or will I have to tell him instead?”
I was enthralled, and fully disgusted, making a move to inch away from the woman.
“But it doesn't end there.” Ben continued. He straightened up, taking slow, intimidating steps towards the woman's desk. “You don't even want Jake, do you? Because, once upon a time, you were in love with his father. Jason Willow. You despised him for rejecting you, so you decided to defile his son.” Ben leaned over the principal’s desk, slipping his hand into the drawer, and pulling out his switch.
Painfully slowly.
She stood there, speechless, her shoulders trembling.
Ben smiled, and I found myself liking it.
“Thank you!” He said, waving the console in her face. Ben mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key.
“My lips are sealed.”
Ben’s half lidded eyes found mine. “Are ya coming, Panda?”
I forgot my own nickname.
Panda.
I wore my Mom’s eyeliner because I thought it looked cool.
It did not.
Finding my breath, I snapped out of it.
Jumping up, I followed him out of the office, and when the two of us were safely on the hallway, I burst into hysterical giggles. “How did you know all of that?!” I whisper- shrieked.
Ben surprised me with a splutter. “Wait. You believed me?”
Something very cold trickled down my spine.
I stopped walking. “You lied?”
He shrugged. “I had a dig around her office before she caught me a few days ago,” Ben swung his arms, a smile curling on his mouth. “There's no restraining order, but there is prescription anti-psychosis medicine, and an extremely detailed story on her laptop about a teachestudent romance, which I presume is a self insert.”
Ben shot me a sickly grin. “The school refused to make her condition public.”
He prodded at his own cotton shirt embroidered with the school emblem.
“Why do you think she's made all these dumb rules? The woman is a certified Looney Tune.”
I nodded slowly. “Wait. What about Jake and his dad?”
“I made them up.”
I choked out a laugh. “And… the video?”
Ben walked faster, pulling out his phone and shoving it in my face. The video was real. Principal Marrow was walking around in circles, draped in her nightgown. “It's her own house,” he explained. “She locked herself out.”
Nodding slowly, I was in awe. Bloody Ben was kind of fucking amazing.
“But the restraining order isn't real.”
Ben raised a brow, coming to an abrupt halt. It was his smile that cemented his place in my gang. His lack of empathy for a woman he had gaslit into being a disgusting human being. Ben Callows wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but he fascinated me. Maybe for the wrong reasons. “Her filing cabinets are filled with tinned cat food, Panda,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, “I’m not psychic, but I thiiiiink we’ll be okay.”
I turned to him, unable to stop myself jumping up and down with excitement.
“Will you be my first?!”
Ben inclined his head. “Will I be your what?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. I mean, will you join my mystery gang?”
The boy’s eyes lit up, and I shoved him playfully.
“To solve real cases,” I corrected myself. “Not make them up.”
Ben wore a real, proper smile. But there was something in his eyes, a darkness that was so hollow and polluted and wrong, I pretended not to see it for the sake of his smarts and intellect. “Well, if you insist, sure!” Ben held out his hand, and I shook it. I'll be your first.”
We found our second member, who was, ironically, looking for her glasses under the table in class. Lucy Prescott, the quiet girl, was born to be with us.
The class eraser went missing, and she found it in the blink of an eye.
When questioned, Lucy’s face turned as red as her hair. “I asked everyone in the class and followed the clues to the last person who had it,” she pointed to Chase Simpson. “Which was Chase, who was throwing it at Marcus Calvin.”
Twisting around in my chair, I aimed to get Ben’s attention. But he was already looking at me, chin resting on his fist, eyes ignited with excitement.
The two of us cornered Lucy after class, and when she motioned for us to get back, I dragged Ben (who was a little too excited) to my side.
Lucy looked mildly horrified when I said, dangerous cases, though her expression pricked with intrigue.
She agreed, her gaze lingering on Ben, cheeks smouldering.
Our last two members were a surprise.
Violet Evergreen was what you would call popular on the middle school hierarchy. Not just because her mother was the mayor, but because Violet could get away with murder. The girl refused to wear the school uniform, coloring a single purple streak in her hair to cement herself as the it girl.
She was also one of the girls who started the Bloody Ben rumor.
Ben, Lucy, and I were sitting on the grass during recess, trying to come up with a name for our detective service, when Violet came storming over, hands planted on her hips. She was copying how her mother held herself during town meetings.
“What are you doing?” Violet demanded.
Lucy opened her mouth to answer, Ben nudging her to shut up.
“Making a mystery gang.” I told her. “Why?”
Violet inclined her head. “Oh.” She folded her arms. “Well, can I join?”
Ben stood up, stepping in front of the girl. Violet didn't move, stubbornly standing her ground. “Sure.” Ben flashed a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. He stepped closer to her, his smile widening. “If you can pass the test.”
Violet’s lip curled. She took a single step back. “What kind of test?”
Ben nodded to me. “Meet us at the swimming pool at 8pm.”
To my surprise, Violet nodded. “Do I need to bring anything?”
“Nope!”
8pm. The four of us met outside the local swimming pool.
Violet was already on the other side of the fence, waving.
“Hey guys!”
I noticed Ben’s expression, his eyes darkening, lip curling.
Still though, he maintained positivity, vaulting over the fence.
“You made it!”
I followed him, helping Lucy, who was immediately freaking out. I didn't blame her. The pool looked cold and dark, a hollow oblivion carved into the ground.
Ben and Violet stood on the edge, the two of them shoulder to shoulder.
Violet Evergreen was braver than I thought.
Standing with her arms at her sides, Violet's hands clenched into fists.
“What's the test?” Violet said, her gaze glued to bleeding black depths.
“I don't know,” Ben murmured, his voice teetering on a giggle. He leaned forwards, arms spread out. “I didn't think you'd actually come meet us.”
Violet hummed, stretching out her leg, teasing it across the surface. “Was that the test?”
The boy leaned back. I caught the glint of a grin under the floodlights. “Nah.”
Before I knew what was happening, he shoved Violet into the pool. The girl didn't scream or shriek, she just hit the surface, sinking into pitch dark nothing.
“Sink or swim,” Ben said in a low murmur, when Violet’s head bobbed under water. I could see her shadow under the surface, imagining the freezing cold depths pulling her down.
“Drown, and you can't join us.”
It was so quiet, suddenly. The three of us staring into rippling water.
A minute passed, and my tummy started to twist.
“Fuck.” Ben’s expression stayed stoic. I wasn't expecting him to say a bad word.
He cocked his head. “I thought she could swim.”
I hit him, holding in a cry. “You need to get our parents!”
But he didn't listen to me, taking a single step, and dropping into the pool.
I fell to my knees, scanning the water.
Lucy was crying. “Are they dead?!” she shrieked.
“Shhh!” I was watching two shadows lingering under the water.
Violet broke through. I expected her to be crying, but her expression was unwavering. She was silent. I thought the splashing underneath her was her legs trying and struggling to tread water, before Lucy shoved me. Hard.
“Panda! What do we do?!”
Looking closer, Violet was perfectly still, her gaze on the sky.
While she shoved Ben under the water, drowning him.
Violet’s eyes sparkled, and somehow, I knew she belonged in my gang.
Her gaze found mine, glinting with that darkness, that poisonous streak I found myself drawn to. It was a starving, insatiable need to understand a fractured mind. Know your enemy.
“Do you want to see if Ben’s a witch?” Violet asked me, her tone something else entirely. This girl did not make sense, using barely her finger to drown Ben Callows. I knew she was wrong.
I knew there was something loose, something unlocked and unbridled and drowning inside her mind and heart.
But I wanted more of her. I wanted Violet Evergreen in my detective gang.
I think that is why I stood there, frozen.
When the thrashing stopped, Ben broke through.
He wasn't coughing or spluttering, his head inclined. “You didn't drown.”
Violet climbed out of the pool, offering her hand. “And you're not a witch.”
He declined her hand, taking the steps instead.
I asked Violet in a shaky voice. I was trembling with terror, but I was excited.
Exhilarated.
“Violet, will you join my gang?”
She didn't answer me until we were sharing hot cocoa in my house.
I told Mom we fell in the pool, and she believed me. I should have told her that my friends were sociopaths, and I was kind of maybe in love. Violet sipped her cocoa, nodding with a smile I didn't recognise. Violet never smiled at school.
Well, she did. But it was always the prick of a cruel smirk.
I don't think her smile was genuine, but she was definitely enjoying herself.
Our last member came to us, instead of finding him.
Jules Howell, a straggly brunette pushed his way in front of me in the lunch line. I didn't really know the kid.
He sat at the back of the classroom and slept through most of class. I did like his accent though.
Jules had moved from Melbourne in the second grade. He didn't talk much.
When he did, I found myself enveloped in his voice, which sounded like water to me, a bleeding cadence to his tone.
Jules piled his plate with fries, smiling widely at the lunch ladies.
“I saw you last night.” He murmured through that perfectly moulded grin.
“Saw me where?”
“At the pool,” Jules said. “You, Bloody Ben, Violet Evergreen, and that Lucy girl. You were doing a suiciding pact.”
“That's not what we were doing.” I said, “What's a suiciding pact?”
“When you kill yourself together.” Jules said. “I saw it in a scary movie my Mom was watching.”
I grabbed a fork. “We weren't doing that.”
His eyes were strange when I took the time to notice them. The excited gleam had fizzled out. Jules’s hands tightened around his tray. “Then what were you doing?”
I didn't reply, making my way over to our usual table. Ben was already waving me over, Violet and Lucy holding up the flyers we were making.
THE REDBLOOD DETECTIVES.”
Do YOU need our help? We can find/solve anything! Contact us on the number below. (We take donations!)
When I bothered turning around, Jules was lost in the crowd of kids.
We were on our first official case, searching for Mrs Lake’s missing mail, when Jules appeared seemingly out of nowhere. And with him, a golden retriever puppy he introduced as Arlo.
It took a dog jumping up at them for Violet and Ben to find their real smiles, their real selves slowly seeping through these facades they had built around themselves. Ben dropped to a crouch, ruffling the dog's ears, his smile faint.
“Who's a good boy?” He chuckled.
Arlo didn't move, tail wagging, eyes bright.
Ben motioned the dog towards him, but Arlo stayed put.
Jules joined us…quietly.
I don't remember asking him, or even him asking me.
He just became part of us, side by side with Arlo.
We soon came to quickly realize that our town was boring.
There were no monsters or thieves, or soul sucking demons. No criminals or serial killers. Not even one missing person. We did, however, get calls about missing cats. I turned eleven years old, patiently waiting for a murder or a kid going missing. But there was nothing.
All we did was chase cats, and the occasional dog. Maybe a budgie if we were lucky. Twelve years old, our detective club became a joke.
The five of us (and Arlo hiding under the table) were trying to pinpoint Mrs Tracy's lost hamster, when three girls came over, dumping their soda all over us.
We watched crime shows for inspiration on catching killers.
Ben’s favorite crime was one that happened in the 80’s in our town.
2 girls murdered.
Their intestines stuffed into envelopes and mailed to family members.
“That's what we should be solving,” he told me one night, “Not missing cats.”
Thirteen years old, we lay in Violet’s backyard under the cruel glare of the summer sun. We called it working and didn't like to admit it was hanging out, or that we were even friends. However.
That didn't stop us growing closer.
Even if it wasn't quite the way I’d expected.
I proposed a plan, standing up, wobbling a little off balance.
“I've got it.” I said, my voice kinda slurry from Violet’s special summer cocktail, which was just random alcoholic beverages we found, thrown into a blender, and diluted with water.
The town wasn't taking us seriously.
So, we were going to make our own mysteries.
I ordered a full-scale assault on our small town. One that they could not ignore. Ben stamped on Mrs Mason’s flowers, and Lucy threw mud pies at people's cars. Jules trashed the high school gym, and Violet and I spray painted threats and warnings on every store window. Now, this did cause panic, but also an official curfew.
Thirty minutes before curfew, we met in our usual spot, deep in the forest near the lake. Ben yelled at me when I was three minutes late. He was real passionate about finding a real mystery.
“You're late.” Ben was sitting on a rock waving a stick in Arlo’s face.
The dog still wasn't going near him, whining softly.
I took my place, muttering an apology. “I had to lie to my Mom.”
Violet, sitting with her legs crossed, idly digging her manicure into the dirt, suggested we buy mannequins and masquerade them as dead bodies, hanging them from the school rafters.
Lucy, who had slowly grown out of her shell, becoming a lot more outspoken, nudged her. “That's a stupid idea.”
The girl groaned, leaning into her. “Urgh. You're right.”
Jules was the only energetic one, standing on the tireswing.
He jumped down, definitely twisting his ankle.
But his smile only widened, kind of like he enjoyed being in pain.
“Why don't we pretend to be kidnapped?” He said, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over blondish curls growing out. Jules did a dramatic spin, his eyes shining. “We can ‘go missing’ for like a week, and then when our parents are really scared, we can turn up, and tell them we escaped a kidnapping.” His lips split into a grin.
“And then we solve our own kidnapping!”
Ben awkwardly patted Arlos head, only for the dog to pull away with a snort.
“I like it,” he murmured. “I'm in.”
Jules’s idea was stupid.
But.
It was worth a shot.
The five of us agreed to meet the morning after with enough food and supplies for a week. Then we were going to hike to the next town, and hide out for a week. It was an almost perfect plan, using ourselves as victims of our own mystery.
Packing as much as I could, I kissed my mother goodbye (I told her my pack was for a picnic) and set off to the rendezvous we agreed on.
When I arrived, I was the first one there. I checked and re-checked my pack.
I waited ten minutes, unable to contain my excitement.
Then 20 minutes.
It was getting kind of cold.
One hour.
I sat on a rock for enough time to watch the sky change color.
When the clouds were orange, I stood up and stumbled back home. They had gone without me. Mom lectured me when I got home, and I stuck to the plan of pretending my friends had gone missing, even if I they had betrayed me.
Ben said he'd text me when he arrived at the redervous. I at least expected him to text an explanation, but there was nothing. I was in the dark, and after three days of nothing, our town finally began to take us seriously.
“Our children have been kidnapped!” The adults were screaming.
Mom was crying in the kitchen, praying to a god I knew she didn't believe in that I wasn't taken next. I was interviewed and stuck with the exact same story I came up with when I was with the others. Our plan was to return after a week, claiming to be locked up in a dark room with a masked man.
I told my Mother and the other parents that I didn't know where my friends were, repeating the same thing over and over again until I was tongue tied.
“I saw them the day before they went missing, and… yes, everything seemed okay.” I slowly sipped my glass of milk provided, looking the sheriff directly in the eyes.
“No, I didn't notice anything suspicious, sheriff. Yes, I'm sure, sir. No, they didn't tell me anything.”
It was Ben’s mother who shattered my mask.
“Did I know about… what?” I whispered.
Something warm filled the back of my mouth, foul tasting milk erupting up my throat. I leaned forward, trying to look Mrs Callows in the eye. “No, I… I didn't know about Ben’s…condition.”
Mrs Callows was screaming at me about her son’s troubled past when I barfed all over myself, my eyes burning.
In the privacy of my own room, I sobbed until I couldn't breathe.
I tried to tell Mom, but we had come so close.
One more day, and the others would be back.
But that day came. I sat cross legged at our usual spot, which was now covered in police tape. I waited for their thudding footsteps, their laughter congratulating each other for coming up with a great plan. I waited, my face buried in my knees, for my friends.
It was dark when my phone vibrated, and I'd fallen asleep.
I wasn't scared, forcing myself to my feet.
“Where are you?” Mom yelled down the phone.
“Coming home now.” I muttered.
“Sorry.” I paused, holding my breath against a cry. “Mom.” I broke down, forcing my fist into my mouth to hide my squeak. “Mommy, did they come back?”
Mom didn't reply for a moment.
“I'm so sorry, baby.” She whispered, ending the call.
I took my time walking home that night.
There were no stars in the sky.
When a hand clamped over my mouth, I could smell him.
When he dragged me back, stabbing a kitchen knife into my throat, I stared at the sky and looked for stars. His arms were warm around me, violently pulling me into the back of a pickup truck. The pickup truck he'd said he was bringing.
It was his grandfather's, and he could just about drive it.
Hitting the backseat, my body was numb, my thoughts in a whirlwind.
The pickup flew forwards, and I remembered how to move.
I rolled off the seat, my hands pinned behind my back.
Twisting around, blinking in the dim, I could feel something warm, something seeping across upholstery seats. Blood.
It was everywhere, sticky on my hands and wet on my face when I struggled to get up. I was lying in someone's blood.
A scream clawed its way out of my throat.
The pickup flew over a pothole, and something dropped off the seat.
Arlo’s leash.
I screamed again, this time his name gritted between my teeth.
I didn't stop screaming until the jerking movement stopped. The doors opened, pale light hitting me in the face.
Flashlight. Warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me from the car, and then, pulling me by my hair, into our old tree house. It was always our secret place, our saving grace on the edge of town.
The flickering candlelight caught me off guard, illuminating my surroundings.
Two bodies slumped over each other, lying in stemming red.
I felt suffocated, like I was going to die. I screamed, and that warm hand cradled my mouth again, gagging my cries.
Violet and Jules.
There was something wrong with them. And it was only when I forced myself to look closer, when I realized their insides had been carved out, heart, stomach, everything, pulled out.
There was paper on the floor.
No, not paper. Envelopes.
Envelopes stuffed with gore, bright red leaking through white.
Shuffling back, my brain was too slow to react, while my body was trying to vault to my feet, only to be violently pulled back by my ponytail.
I felt his fingers twining around my hair, revelling in my screams.
With another tug, my head was forced forwards.
Orange candlelight felt almost homely, this time lighting up a third body.
Lying on their back, curled up, pooling scarlet dried into the floorboards, their wrists restricted with duct-tape.
I could feel blood underneath me, sticky, a congealing paste.
“Do you know what happened on October 3rd, 1987, in our town?”
Lucy Prescott stood over me, her arms folded across her chest.
I managed to shake my head, when she grabbed Ben’s legs, dragging him under the candlelight. I dazedly watched her stroke the blade of a carving knife, the teeth already stained scarlet. “The intestine murders.” Lucy hummed, tracing the knife down the floorboards.
“A man murdered two high school girls, carving out their insides and sending their pieces to their loved ones.”
Lucy's eyes found mine, ignited in a familiar gleam. I saw it in Principal Marrow’s office. Then the swimming pool. The cafeteria. “It was the sheriff's only murder case, Panda. Ever since then, our town has been boring. There's no mysteries to solve. Nothing to find.”
The girl jumped to her feet, retrieving a blood stained envelope.
She held it up, a smile curved on her lips. The girl turned around, and I heard a horrific squelching sound. Lucy held up a bright red sausage, ripped into it, and slipped it into the white paper.
“But I can change that.” she said, in a giggle.
“I can create a real serial killer, who we can hunt down together.”
Lucy stabbed the blade into the floor, laughing.
“Or! I can bring a fan-favorite back! I can bring the intestine killer back from the dead!”
Her gaze flicked to the others. “There are casualties, of course. The story is, I was kidnapped with Ben, Violet, and Jules. The scary intestine killer killed them, and I managed to get away.”
Lucy shuffled over to me, her eyes wide. “Then! He came back and struck again!”
With those words, she shoved me onto my back.
“First he took Violet,” Lucy hummed, tracing the blade down my shirt.
“Then… Jules.” I squeezed my eyes shut, pulling at the restraints around my wrists. “Then Ben.” her breath tickled my cheek. “And finally… Panda.”
Lucy lifted the knife, and I accepted my death.
Until a low rumble in my ears.
Shouting.
Thundering footsteps, followed by the pitter-patter of paws.
“Lucy!” The sheriff was screaming, and the girl stumbled to her feet, the knife slipping from her fingers. Lucy stumbled, tripping over Ben’s body.
“He got away!” she shrieked. “He…he killed them! Oh, god, please help me!”
I don't think Lucy even realised the traces she'd left behind.
The blood slick on her fingers, her manic, grinning smile full of mania.
I was looking for stars when an officer crouched over me.
I couldn't understand what she was saying.
Her voice was white noise.
“Rachel? Hey, try and sit up, honey. You Mom is on her way.”
Instead of listening to her, I curled into myself.
My gaze found Arlo sticking his nose in Ben’s hair, trying to nudge the boy awake.
I didn't fully register the next few days.
They went by in a confusing blur.
Part of me tried to eat, and spent hours with my head pressed against the toilet seat.
I could still see the slithering, scarlet remains of my friends every time I closed my eyes. There was so much red, soaked in that hunting orange light.
Blood that I could still see, a starless sky that stretched on forever.
Weeks went by.
Then months.
I think I turned 14. I wasn't sure. I didn't feel alive anymore.
I stood at my friend’s funerals with a single rose I dropped into their casket.
Violet’s mother was quick to cover the whole thing up.
Lucy's plan didn't work after all.
Our town’s murder cases stayed stagnant at one.
It's been four years since my friends were murdered by our ’Velma’.
Now, at seventeen, Mom asked if I wanted to visit Lucy in juvie.
I'm not even upset or angry anymore.
I want to know why.
Ben picked me up. Arlo was at his side, wagging his tail.
Ben was…different. He'd dumped his baseball cap and gotten a haircut, swapping his old wardrobe of drab colors for an attempt at changing style.
That day, he looked awkward in a short sleeved tee and shorts.
At school, Ben is no longer Bloody Ben.
Now, he is Survivor Ben.
I’m still Panda.
Every time I was with him, I felt like my soul was being sucked out.
Guilt so deep, so fucking painful, I lost my breath.
I live knowing that I immediately assumed it was him that day.
Ben was barely alive when I found him. Lucy had started to carve into him before remembering she needed me.
After admitting it to him, his lips formed a small smile.
“Can I tell you a secret?” He said to me, at sixteen.
"Yeah?"
Whatever he was going to say, Ben never told me.
Presently, I nodded at the dog’s new collar.
“Peppa Pig themed?”
The boy shrugged, ruffling Arlo’s ears. “FYI, he chose it.”
“It's cute.” I said. “Very… chic.”
We didn't speak the whole ride, but Ben did entangle his hand in mine.
We spent half an hour outside the detention centre. I was panicking, and Ben was trying to hide that he was panicking. In the end, we joined hands, and strode through the doors together.
Lucy greeted us with a wide smile. Just as psychotic.
The orange jumpsuit suited her, though I had zero idea why.
“Hey Arlo!” she giggled at the dog, and Ben pulled the pup onto his lap.
“Ben.” She sighed. “I wish I got to finish you. I would have loved to solve the mystery of your gutted corpse.”
Ben’s smile was wry. “Nice to see you too.”
Behind a glass screen, I asked Lucy one simple question.
“Why?”
Lucy didn't reply. Or she did, but it was just nonsensical bullshit.
But there was one thing she said has stuck with me, chilling me to the core.
I am fucking terrified of Lucy. Of what's she's done, and what she's capable of doing.
It was a throwaway line, and I don't even think Ben noticed.
Or he did, and was in denial.
Lucy's smile was wide, her eyes empty pools of nothing.
The exact same glint in Ben’s eyes.
Jules’s eyes.
Violet’s eyes.
Like something was gnawing away at their psyche, twisting and contorting it, filling them with darkness, poison, that was so vast, so endless, I had craved it as a child. I still don't know what it is.
But I'm going to find it.
Lucy's laugh was shrill, and next to me, Ben didn't move a muscle.
But he did smile.
Yes, my gang were psychos.
But I kind of maybe loved it.
“I don't even wear glasses!”

Chapter 9: Knowing
—
Suggested Listening:
Nicholas Brittel Agape
Required Listening ⭐️ Kwabs Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
⭐️ Raye Vela Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
—
“Is your heart doing okay?” I asked.
“Yes. It is fine. I am tired, but alright.”
“Good,” I said. “I was wondering. Can you tell me another poem? And then we can go to sleep.”
Sasha looked at me. “About what?” he said, smoke drifting into my face.
“I don’t know. Tell me one about someone you love.”
“Hmm,” he nodded. “Let’s see.”
He pondered this, then an expression I can only describe as conflicted crept across his face.
“What?” I asked.
“There are few I love so dearly as this person.”
My eyes widened. “Who is it?”
Sasha’s brow furrowed. Then he frowned. At first a little, then deeply.
“What?” I asked gently.
Sasha shook his head. I saw pain now in his expression.
“You don’t have to,” I said, my own brow furrowing. “Please don’t. I can pick something else. Or, actually, we can just go to sleep right now.”
Sasha closed his eyes. Then nodded as if he had come to a decision.
“I will do this. This person I love more than my own self. I would die for him. However, it will not be pretty, this poem.”
I frowned too. “Okay,” I whispered.
“ Sharp Like the tip of a blade Blunt Like the pommel of the same sword Me Like the face of his face Him Like the reflection of my visage Swift Like the bird of prey’s flight Ruthless Like the killing of its hunt Dark Like the night without the moon Troubled Like the Dead River of the Void Alive Like his heart’s beating rhythm Dying Like the joy of his soul “
“Who is that about?” I asked, concerned. “You, ‘the face of his face.’ Your twin?”
“Yes. He is not well,” Sasha said.
“Why? What happened?”
Sasha turned away from me, shaking his head. “It is too heavy to speak of just now. In the future we will.”
“Okay, I get you,” I reassured him.
“Thank you. I worry about him everyday. I call him just as much. I would give my life for him. I owe it to him,” Sasha said fiercely. “He gave his and much more. Because of his strength we survived an ordeal too terrible to speak of.”
I thought back to when he said he felt as if he were dying. I hadn’t known he meant it literally. Then the words he had latched on to: mangled and twisted. A picture was forming. A bad one.
“Thank you for creating this poem. You didn’t have to put yourself through that pain for me,” I said guiltily. Sasha shook his head at me.
“It is okay. Perhaps it was good to express his personality in poetry. It hurts to be away from him in this place. He-“ Sasha stopped. He rubbed his mouth. “I hope he is well enough to come eventually.”
I wondered what he’d been about to say. But I did not press the issue.
“Me too. I’m so sorry you all are dealing with that kind of pain. For what it’s worth, I think the poem you made about him is beautiful. Your brother sounds like a strong Wingscale that’s really going through it right now. I hope whatever joy has been stolen from him—from his soul—renews from the ashes. Or maybe some new joy will settle there, burning brightly.”
“Like a Phoenix,” he smiled. “I will tell him what you said. You two would get along, I think.”
“I can’t wait to meet him then,” I said. I wondered what sort of person he was. Moreover, I found it incredibly interesting that Sasha had a twin considering I did as well. I would tell him that news sometime when he was not already overwhelmed.
“Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve had all kinds of heart attacks and poetry and seen fire wings and what have you,” I suggested.
Sasha chuckled. “Perhaps. I must escape from this. I do not think I have made so many beautiful words manifest as poetry as I have tonight. If I do not sleep I will continue.”
“Okay, right? I usually spend some serious time writing these things. But tonight it’s like my mouth is possessed by my own self.”
“What an apt way to describe it. I feel the same. I acknowledge that my manner of speech is skilled, but tonight it holds a level of eloquence that I did not know I possessed.”
I thought back to his oration, the first thing he recited of our lyrical night. I shivered. “Sasha, you can ‘Speak to me’ anytime. This soul is listening. Eloquence indeed.”
“I promise I will speak to you more oration. You are the only person I know who would enjoy such serious strings of words for your own enjoyment.”
“I have a taste for dignity,” I replied.
Sasha paused. “What more do you need of eloquence when your mouth creates it from nowhere?”
“You have the flavor I want.”
Sasha stared at me incredulously and shook his head. “I am done with you again. You talk me into a trap at every turn.”
I cackled at him. “Alright, alright. It’s time for you go to sleep.”
“Very well,” he said, laughing gently.
I held him closer, although it was impossible. His wing came down over me like a shroud of protection. We held on to each other in silence, not needing anything to fill the space. I just breathed him. Smoke. Fire. Silence. Warmth. Breath. Growl. They spoke enough.
After a while of just laying there in peacefulness, he fell asleep. I could feel the regular inhalations and exhalations marked by the shudder of his chest. And he was a heavy sleeper. Or he was exhausted. Both probably. His flames were still wild even in slumber. Small flickers and tendrils of fire peeked every so often from his mouth. A deep growl emanated from his chest and throat at every exhalation. I stroked Sasha’s face as he slept, the heat of his fire on my hand, and he didn’t move an inch.
I watched him for a while until it occurred to me to write out all the words we had recited to each other. I turned over and reached past his wing to grab my phone from the nightstand. The glow from my screen was strange, it’s blueness cutting through the smoky red in my vision. I sat back and typed every amazing thing we had said.
Those collections of words we had stitched together from nothing just floored me. I had never made poetry like what I did that night. Such passion and beauty.
I looked at Sasha again, thinking about the words that had entranced me from his mouth.
‘Speak to me.’
‘Speak to me.’
The phrase kept ringing out in my chest. He was right. It was a rare thing to find someone who would hang on to your every word with the utmost attention. With actual interest, engagement. I wanted to speak to him forever, about anything. And he would listen. I would listen to him.
I closed my eyes and shook my head at such strong thoughts about a stranger. I thought of all the ‘normal’ people I had dated in the past. The relationships had all gone ‘normally’: date, texting, talking into the night, more dates, sex, dates. Accusations, breakups, crying. Getting over it. Normal stuff.
This was not normal, not in the slightest. Never in all my life had I behaved the way I did under that tree. I was still wondering who that was. Who was the Leila that kissed that way, that straddled dragons in broad daylight? That made love without a first date at all and then swore a stranger to an oath of binding, a whole relationship? That spoke poetry at him from her breath like it was my own fire?
Apparently I was her. It frightened me, the speed with which she and I had moved in one evening. And yet it all felt perfectly normal, inevitable.
Of course I had known when Sasha arrived there was something special about him, no matter how I tried to pretend everything was normal. why was I pretending?
That very first day, when I saw him walk into my morning class, I wasn’t paying attention when he said who he was. I had looked up and locked eyes with him. We held each others gaze for a beat longer than necessary.
Every damn class that day, and the following, I missed him announce his name. It was like a comedy sketch. The writing class we shared was the only one I was paying close attention to, and the professor had written his name on the board of course. It was infuriating.
I watched him like a hawk after he arrived that week. In all that time he didn’t speak around me. And I never spoke to him. Why hadn’t I? What had stopped me?
Just like he said, we just kept Circling each other, but never allowed ourselves to meet at the center of our orbit. He felt the same way. He had said he wanted to speak with me as well but for some reason he didn’t.
It was like a force was beckoning us to each other. To finally meet at the center of a Circle.
This day had been the first time I heard his voice at all. If I had heard it earlier, I would have been completely undone. I would not have let him walk away from me so many times.
I stared at his sleeping form, and a thought came to me again. He avoided speaking around me on purpose. Talking to me. He had known that getting close to me might start something, but had he know it would be his voice that caused such a domino effect? Then again, he knew far more than I did about Callings. Frequencies.
I balked at that word. It was so clumsy, so empty to how it felt. We shared vibes. My soul vibrated on the same wavelength as his body. Our mouths breathed the same breath. Our hearts beat the same.
Sameness. Oneness. Vibes.
He knew something would happen to his body if he let us get too close to each other. I was what he thought I was, and he had failed to prevent that change in us. But he didn’t know anything of how these changes would manifest.
It had happened so fast that he was alarmed to see me standing there in class. As soon as I greeted him, the very second he said ‘hi,’ that curious sound beneath his voice started. The thought that he was so helpless at that moment saddened me the same way it did him when he revealed the permanence of Calling. He never stood a chance. I kissed my hand and continued to stroke his face with that kiss.
And then the wings. The dreams and visions. Those two otherworldly beings… What were we? Were we gods or something? Were we reincarnated versions of them? Possessed? Were they using us? What did any of this mean? I did not know.
I tried to be more upset about this breech on our lives that sent us careening down a path we didn’t ask for. But looking at that red dragon, how could I? Our first contact was so lovely. The way we had spoken to each other in class was sweet. Neither of us could keep a smile off our faces. Laughing and carrying on, a perfect match of good humor.
I stared at him trying to conjure up feelings of grief, apprehension, fear, irritation or anything negative at all, and I came up with nothing.
I sighed. I could tell that in that other life, in that place of lakes of fire and expanses of the cosmos, that we were really something special. Something strong. Something beautiful. I was not alarmed at our sudden connection, the strength of it, the passion of it.
But if we broke apart from one another in the future—everything in me said no—that alarmed me. The coldness. The despair. The threat of death at an incomplete attunement. At a great falling away into a chasm. It was horrifying that Sasha could literally die from us being separated. It was unfair.
I would never let that happen. How horrible a thought. Not after this Calling had fallen upon him and surprises kept rearing their heads.
I was done writing our poems and, subsequently, my musings. I put my phone back where it belonged. My head was still swirling with all those thoughts, but I shut my eyes and tried to shut down my mind.
I held Sasha again. Even in his sleep he put his arms back around me. It made me smile to be enveloped in his warmth.
Eventually I drifted off to sleep as well.

I don’t know how long I had been asleep when I felt Sasha’s heartbeat pick up enough to wake me. It was the time where night lingers in the earliest of hours. Nothing but the soft murmur of calling insects and wind outside.
I groaned and looked up into Sasha’s face, but he was still sleeping.
“What is it?” I asked, groggy.
“Please,” he slurred.
“Please what?” I whispered, more alert.
He mumbled something more in his sleep. “Make it stop,” he whispered. “Please,” he pleaded. “…the shore...”
I put my hands over my mouth. I didn’t know what he could be dreaming about. It occurred to me that all that talk of pain and wounds might have stemmed from ptsd or something like that. He was in the military after all.
I let him be just in case that’s what it was. I did not want to add additional stress or confusion to a ptsd dream.
Eventually Sasha stirred of his own accord. He opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. I waited until he seemed to be all there with me.
“Hey, you alright?” I didn’t mention his sleep talking.
He didn’t say a word for a moment, just rubbed his eyebrows. Then he patted my back. I let go of him so he could sit up.
He removed his wing from around me, groaning.
“What is it?” I inquired.
Sasha rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked at me. “I heard your Calling…” he whispered tiredly in wonder, so low I almost didn’t hear him. “It was soft and quiet, almost imperceptible. But I heard it, still, in my sleep…”
My eyes widened, my heart pounding as well. I sat up. “Really?” I whispered back. “What is it like?”
He moved his head to the side, still listening. “Soft waves. A wind chime. A whisper of song. I have heard it before. That is why I awoke,” he said.
“Really?” I asked. My Calling sounded peaceful like being at the beach. Of course, my favorite place. Interesting. I sleepily folded my arms under my head.
“It is very faint.” Sasha closed his eyes. “I know when I heard it.”
“When was that?” I asked.
“You are sleepy still. We can speak of it later.”
I waved him off. “We are awake now. I have no doubt when we say we’ll sleep again it will be no trouble. I fell to sleep easily and so did you.”
Sasha chuckled to himself. “Very well, Leila.” He leaned his back, head against the headboard. His eyes stayed closed.
“I was sitting with my brother, Pasha, upon a stone wall at the beach. It was the evening before I came to this place. I was unsure if I had made the right decision to go with my father. To leave Pasha behind. I had wanted to throw myself into my work to forget the ordeal we had both gone through. But Pasha told me I needed something new, and that whatever it was lie across the ocean waiting for me. Something fulfilling. He said that, surely, wallowing in guilt, in anger and sadness, would not help me heal my wounds although he was dealing with wounds of his own.”
I wondered what wounds he meant. I had seen the scars on his wings. More pain. More scars. Mangled and twisted. He had died and would do so again. Moreover, he had muttered something about the shore. And here it appeared in his story. What had happened to him?
As if sensing my questions, he inhaled deeply.
“I will tell you of the things that transpired eventually. It was… horrible. It is still too raw for me. I apologize for these strange disjointed hints of pain, of suffering.”
“No, no. It’s okay. We will discuss it all later,” I said appreciatively. “Go on.”
“Hmm. Even after Pasha’s encouragement, I still felt apprehension about traveling to this land. All at once, I heard a woman singing on the beach, yet I saw no one.
I heard the sound of wildly swaying wind chimes, of rain, of whipping winds, but there were nothing anywhere to make such sounds.
My brother thought I was crazy. But that voice stirred my spirit as I stared out at that dark water. It was mournful, like a siren in a tempest whose heart had been broken to pieces.
At one point, she whispered a barely discernible plea: ‘Someone, just please help me.’ ‘I can’t do this.’”
I gasped in alarm, my heart hammering away so hard I thought I would have a heart attack. I knew at once the woman was me. It was me who had been pleading in turmoil, with those precise words, wanting someone to swoop down and save me. By the Goddess…
Sasha continued his tale, perhaps not noticing my change in demeanor. “I didn’t know where she was, or what it was she did not want to do, but I told my brother to give me a moment.
I stood and walked along the shore, looking for someone in need, for anything strange. I never found any such woman. I spoke a word of peace to her, whoever she was, wherever she was.”
At the same time, we both said:“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be.”
Sasha stopped. He opened his eyes and stared at me in awe. “You heard those words?”
I nodded, heart still pounding. Which of us was having these heart troubles? Him or me?
Sasha shook his head, rubbing his face. “Madness. But truly amazing nonetheless,” he said quietly.
“Yeah…” I responded. I didn’t know what else to say.
“It was you,” he said, not asked.
“I suppose so…”
Sasha continued.
“I returned to my brother to conclude our talk. I told him I wanted to stay a while, and he stayed with me. The song turned into something sweeter after a time. I went looking yet again but never found you. Of course I could not. You were nowhere near me.
Eventually we left. Pasha and I parted ways, and I returned to my home.
No matter what I did, I could not shake your voice from my mind that evening. It sent shivers down my spine. So I returned to the beach. There was nothing else for it; I would have remained awake all night agonizing over my travels the next day anyway. Why not do so surrounded by such mystical music?
I went to a quiet place, book and blanket in hand. The water was complete still, yet the sound of waves was everywhere. Intangible, lapping against the shore.”
I recalled when I had mentioned sitting at the beach watching waves lapping on the shore. He had paused then, as we stood in his living room, thinking of something. I now knew he had recalled this event and wondered at the similarities.
“The sunset was vibrant, strangely so. It was stunning, like a painting. No one else seemed to find the sight of note but me.
You were singing, but again in sorrow. I stayed out there, reading a book and meditating, until others went away from the beach. Until only I remained. Your faint song, the softest whispers of singing, became sweet again. So much singing, you did. By the gods so much singing. It was like a quiet concert.”
I covered my face. “I’m glad you caught them,” I said, laughing.
“There was only one song I caught well enough to hear the words. You sang it over and over. I did not sleep until you uttered nothing more, your voice fading away. I felt empty at the silence, but content in that, perhaps, my presence had calmed this siren, that perhaps her broken heart had somewhat mended. Unfortunately for me; the absence of your songs caused a melancholy to settle in my spirit. A longing. I came here looking for your voice. I questioned your love of voices because it shocked me, the similarities we continue to share.”
“Hmmm,” I vocalized, not unlike he so often did.
Sasha regarded me, shaking his head in wonder. “Repeating that event back, it is obvious that this woman was you. At the time, back when it happened, I regarded it as a very strange occurrence or perhaps my descent into madness,” he said.
“You most certainly are not mad,” I said.
“Indeed. I know very well at this point that your experience across the ocean happened at that time. You knew my words.”
“I remember them well. Just like a lot of things so far, we have these experiences, the aspects of ourselves that are too similar to be a coincidence. We are like mirrors.”
“Only one of us is larger.”
“Sasha!” I exclaimed.
He laughed at me, hugging me. Then he lay down onto the bed again.
“Speak to me of that same evening,” he said.
I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbow, looking into his eyes.
“I was at the beach too. Certainly the same night, the same week you appeared at school. I have this one particular spot on the beach where no one goes but me. I would make myself a wood fire and look at the smoke swirl into tendrils, embers scattering to the wind. I would sit there to watch storms roll in the distance, writing poetry or doing homework or what have you.”
Sasha nodded, acknowledging the picture I painted was the same as his Call. I nudged him, making him smile.
“But that day? I was having an awful time. Every year I dreaded the same thing, but I always escaped. This time, there was no more running. I was cornered, trapped. And the choice was before me. I stared across the ocean and cried. I said it as you heard. ‘I can’t do this. Please help me.’ I just wanted someone to get me out of that situation, but I wasn’t willing to ask for it again. I was so tired of disappointment.
So I’m sitting there in front of these hypnotic flames singing to myself, trying to shake off those bad spirits. Couldn’t even write a poem about my own despair.”
“Impossible. I refuse to believe such nonsense,” he said, chuckling.
“Shocking, I know,” I agreed, smiling. “That’s when I heard a thunderstorm on the horizon. At least there was that, I thought. My greatest comfort to cheer me.
I’m listening to that distant storm, but there were no clouds, no darkness, no strike of lightning. It puzzled me.
But the sky. Oh Sasha, that was the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. The same wonderful night sky you saw. It was brighter than normal, like fire and roses and gold melding with the sea. I have never seen a more beautiful place for the Goddess to drift into slumber.
I stood up and looked around. Further down the beach people were still going into the water, chatting, lazing about, like nothing was happening. Like this gorgeous sky and this distant storm did not exist.
Then I heard this voice. It was faint. Super faint. But so deep—“ I patted his chest, now knowing it was him. “Your voice; you said those words to me such that my soul was contented.”
“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be,” he repeated quietly. “I live by these words. I acknowledge the feelings and emotions, the pain and joy, that exist in me, that often loom before me. The negative ones will not simply vanish because I ignore them. Sometimes it is easy to face them. And sometimes it is so, so hard, Leila. So hard it feels impossible. But I try, still.”
“And your way of facing your emotions is the truth. I did as you suggested that night; the intense sorrow I felt was for a reason, for many reasons. And I just let all that sorrow unfold so I could face it. Your words were like a warm hug in the midst of my despair. Thank you.”
“You are always welcome,” he said, stroking my face. “Go on.”
“After that, I stayed out there all night. The storm never showed itself, but only grew louder. It’s like it rolled only for me. And it did, didn’t it?
I slept out there under the stars that night. Didn’t care about school. Didn’t care about anyone or anything. Your voice of peace washed away all my worries. So after that I just sang as the thunder peeled, and I did so all evening and into the night. I started singing to you specifically after that. Joyously. I broke out my best numbers,” I said. I covered my face, cracking up.
He laughed quietly. “Indeed; as I said, what I could discern was beautiful.”
I uncovered my face and smiled. “Thank you,” I said. I sighed, reaching my tale’s conclusion. “The next day I felt like I had come out of a deep meditation. Like the sorrow of yesterday did not exist. I had hoped to the Sun that your voice was the Answer to what troubled me. Then your voice stopped for a time. Until today.”

Chapter 9: Knowing
—
Suggested Listening:
Nicholas Brittel Agape
Required Listening ⭐️ Kwabs Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
⭐️ Raye Vela Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
—
“Is your heart doing okay?” I asked.
“Yes. It is fine. I am tired, but alright.”
“Good,” I said. “I was wondering. Can you tell me another poem? And then we can go to sleep.”
Sasha looked at me. “About what?” he said, smoke drifting into my face.
“I don’t know. Tell me one about someone you love.”
“Hmm,” he nodded. “Let’s see.”
He pondered this, then an expression I can only describe as conflicted crept across his face.
“What?” I asked.
“There are few I love so dearly as this person.”
My eyes widened. “Who is it?”
Sasha’s brow furrowed. Then he frowned. At first a little, then deeply.
“What?” I asked gently.
Sasha shook his head. I saw pain now in his expression.
“You don’t have to,” I said, my own brow furrowing. “Please don’t. I can pick something else. Or, actually, we can just go to sleep right now.”
Sasha closed his eyes. Then nodded as if he had come to a decision.
“I will do this. This person I love more than my own self. I would die for him. However, it will not be pretty, this poem.”
I frowned too. “Okay,” I whispered.
“ Sharp Like the tip of a blade Blunt Like the pommel of the same sword Me Like the face of his face Him Like the reflection of my visage Swift Like the bird of prey’s flight Ruthless Like the killing of its hunt Dark Like the night without the moon Troubled Like the Dead River of the Void Alive Like his heart’s beating rhythm Dying Like the joy of his soul “
“Who is that about?” I asked, concerned. “You, ‘the face of his face.’ Your twin?”
“Yes. He is not well,” Sasha said.
“Why? What happened?”
Sasha turned away from me, shaking his head. “It is too heavy to speak of just now. In the future we will.”
“Okay, I get you,” I reassured him.
“Thank you. I worry about him everyday. I call him just as much. I would give my life for him. I owe it to him,” Sasha said fiercely. “He gave his and much more. Because of his strength we survived an ordeal too terrible to speak of.”
I thought back to when he said he felt as if he were dying. I hadn’t known he meant it literally. Then the words he had latched on to: mangled and twisted. A picture was forming. A bad one.
“Thank you for creating this poem. You didn’t have to put yourself through that pain for me,” I said guiltily. Sasha shook his head at me.
“It is okay. Perhaps it was good to express his personality in poetry. It hurts to be away from him in this place. He-“ Sasha stopped. He rubbed his mouth. “I hope he is well enough to come eventually.”
I wondered what he’d been about to say. But I did not press the issue.
“Me too. I’m so sorry you all are dealing with that kind of pain. For what it’s worth, I think the poem you made about him is beautiful. Your brother sounds like a strong Wingscale that’s really going through it right now. I hope whatever joy has been stolen from him—from his soul—renews from the ashes. Or maybe some new joy will settle there, burning brightly.”
“Like a Phoenix,” he smiled. “I will tell him what you said. You two would get along, I think.”
“I can’t wait to meet him then,” I said. I wondered what sort of person he was. Moreover, I found it incredibly interesting that Sasha had a twin considering I did as well. I would tell him that news sometime when he was not already overwhelmed.
“Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve had all kinds of heart attacks and poetry and seen fire wings and what have you,” I suggested.
Sasha chuckled. “Perhaps. I must escape from this. I do not think I have made so many beautiful words manifest as poetry as I have tonight. If I do not sleep I will continue.”
“Okay, right? I usually spend some serious time writing these things. But tonight it’s like my mouth is possessed by my own self.”
“What an apt way to describe it. I feel the same. I acknowledge that my manner of speech is skilled, but tonight it holds a level of eloquence that I did not know I possessed.”
I thought back to his oration, the first thing he recited of our lyrical night. I shivered. “Sasha, you can ‘Speak to me’ anytime. This soul is listening. Eloquence indeed.”
“I promise I will speak to you more oration. You are the only person I know who would enjoy such serious strings of words for your own enjoyment.”
“I have a taste for dignity,” I replied.
Sasha paused. “What more do you need of eloquence when your mouth creates it from nowhere?”
“You have the flavor I want.”
Sasha stared at me incredulously and shook his head. “I am done with you again. You talk me into a trap at every turn.”
I cackled at him. “Alright, alright. It’s time for you go to sleep.”
“Very well,” he said, laughing gently.
I held him closer, although it was impossible. His wing came down over me like a shroud of protection. We held on to each other in silence, not needing anything to fill the space. I just breathed him. Smoke. Fire. Silence. Warmth. Breath. Growl. They spoke enough.
After a while of just laying there in peacefulness, he fell asleep. I could feel the regular inhalations and exhalations marked by the shudder of his chest. And he was a heavy sleeper. Or he was exhausted. Both probably. His flames were still wild even in slumber. Small flickers and tendrils of fire peeked every so often from his mouth. A deep growl emanated from his chest and throat at every exhalation. I stroked Sasha’s face as he slept, the heat of his fire on my hand, and he didn’t move an inch.
I watched him for a while until it occurred to me to write out all the words we had recited to each other. I turned over and reached past his wing to grab my phone from the nightstand. The glow from my screen was strange, it’s blueness cutting through the smoky red in my vision. I sat back and typed every amazing thing we had said.
Those collections of words we had stitched together from nothing just floored me. I had never made poetry like what I did that night. Such passion and beauty.
I looked at Sasha again, thinking about the words that had entranced me from his mouth.
‘Speak to me.’
‘Speak to me.’
The phrase kept ringing out in my chest. He was right. It was a rare thing to find someone who would hang on to your every word with the utmost attention. With actual interest, engagement. I wanted to speak to him forever, about anything. And he would listen. I would listen to him.
I closed my eyes and shook my head at such strong thoughts about a stranger. I thought of all the ‘normal’ people I had dated in the past. The relationships had all gone ‘normally’: date, texting, talking into the night, more dates, sex, dates. Accusations, breakups, crying. Getting over it. Normal stuff.
This was not normal, not in the slightest. Never in all my life had I behaved the way I did under that tree. I was still wondering who that was. Who was the Leila that kissed that way, that straddled dragons in broad daylight? That made love without a first date at all and then swore a stranger to an oath of binding, a whole relationship? That spoke poetry at him from her breath like it was my own fire?
Apparently I was her. It frightened me, the speed with which she and I had moved in one evening. And yet it all felt perfectly normal, inevitable.
Of course I had known when Sasha arrived there was something special about him, no matter how I tried to pretend everything was normal. why was I pretending?
That very first day, when I saw him walk into my morning class, I wasn’t paying attention when he said who he was. I had looked up and locked eyes with him. We held each others gaze for a beat longer than necessary.
Every damn class that day, and the following, I missed him announce his name. It was like a comedy sketch. The writing class we shared was the only one I was paying close attention to, and the professor had written his name on the board of course. It was infuriating.
I watched him like a hawk after he arrived that week. In all that time he didn’t speak around me. And I never spoke to him. Why hadn’t I? What had stopped me?
Just like he said, we just kept Circling each other, but never allowed ourselves to meet at the center of our orbit. He felt the same way. He had said he wanted to speak with me as well but for some reason he didn’t.
It was like a force was beckoning us to each other. To finally meet at the center of a Circle.
This day had been the first time I heard his voice at all. If I had heard it earlier, I would have been completely undone. I would not have let him walk away from me so many times.
I stared at his sleeping form, and a thought came to me again. He avoided speaking around me on purpose. Talking to me. He had known that getting close to me might start something, but had he know it would be his voice that caused such a domino effect? Then again, he knew far more than I did about Callings. Frequencies.
I balked at that word. It was so clumsy, so empty to how it felt. We shared vibes. My soul vibrated on the same wavelength as his body. Our mouths breathed the same breath. Our hearts beat the same.
Sameness. Oneness. Vibes.
He knew something would happen to his body if he let us get too close to each other. I was what he thought I was, and he had failed to prevent that change in us. But he didn’t know anything of how these changes would manifest.
It had happened so fast that he was alarmed to see me standing there in class. As soon as I greeted him, the very second he said ‘hi,’ that curious sound beneath his voice started. The thought that he was so helpless at that moment saddened me the same way it did him when he revealed the permanence of Calling. He never stood a chance. I kissed my hand and continued to stroke his face with that kiss.
And then the wings. The dreams and visions. Those two otherworldly beings… What were we? Were we gods or something? Were we reincarnated versions of them? Possessed? Were they using us? What did any of this mean? I did not know.
I tried to be more upset about this breech on our lives that sent us careening down a path we didn’t ask for. But looking at that red dragon, how could I? Our first contact was so lovely. The way we had spoken to each other in class was sweet. Neither of us could keep a smile off our faces. Laughing and carrying on, a perfect match of good humor.
I stared at him trying to conjure up feelings of grief, apprehension, fear, irritation or anything negative at all, and I came up with nothing.
I sighed. I could tell that in that other life, in that place of lakes of fire and expanses of the cosmos, that we were really something special. Something strong. Something beautiful. I was not alarmed at our sudden connection, the strength of it, the passion of it.
But if we broke apart from one another in the future—everything in me said no—that alarmed me. The coldness. The despair. The threat of death at an incomplete attunement. At a great falling away into a chasm. It was horrifying that Sasha could literally die from us being separated. It was unfair.
I would never let that happen. How horrible a thought. Not after this Calling had fallen upon him and surprises kept rearing their heads.
I was done writing our poems and, subsequently, my musings. I put my phone back where it belonged. My head was still swirling with all those thoughts, but I shut my eyes and tried to shut down my mind.
I held Sasha again. Even in his sleep he put his arms back around me. It made me smile to be enveloped in his warmth.
Eventually I drifted off to sleep as well.

I don’t know how long I had been asleep when I felt Sasha’s heartbeat pick up enough to wake me. It was the time where night lingers in the earliest of hours. Nothing but the soft murmur of calling insects and wind outside.
I groaned and looked up into Sasha’s face, but he was still sleeping.
“What is it?” I asked, groggy.
“Please,” he slurred.
“Please what?” I whispered, more alert.
He mumbled something more in his sleep. “Make it stop,” he whispered. “Please,” he pleaded. “…the shore...”
I put my hands over my mouth. I didn’t know what he could be dreaming about. It occurred to me that all that talk of pain and wounds might have stemmed from ptsd or something like that. He was in the military after all.
I let him be just in case that’s what it was. I did not want to add additional stress or confusion to a ptsd dream.
Eventually Sasha stirred of his own accord. He opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. I waited until he seemed to be all there with me.
“Hey, you alright?” I didn’t mention his sleep talking.
He didn’t say a word for a moment, just rubbed his eyebrows. Then he patted my back. I let go of him so he could sit up.
He removed his wing from around me, groaning.
“What is it?” I inquired.
Sasha rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked at me. “I heard your Calling…” he whispered tiredly in wonder, so low I almost didn’t hear him. “It was soft and quiet, almost imperceptible. But I heard it, still, in my sleep…”
My eyes widened, my heart pounding as well. I sat up. “Really?” I whispered back. “What is it like?”
He moved his head to the side, still listening. “Soft waves. A wind chime. A whisper of song. I have heard it before. That is why I awoke,” he said.
“Really?” I asked. My Calling sounded peaceful like being at the beach. Of course, my favorite place. Interesting. I sleepily folded my arms under my head.
“It is very faint.” Sasha closed his eyes. “I know when I heard it.”
“When was that?” I asked.
“You are sleepy still. We can speak of it later.”
I waved him off. “We are awake now. I have no doubt when we say we’ll sleep again it will be no trouble. I fell to sleep easily and so did you.”
Sasha chuckled to himself. “Very well, Leila.” He leaned his back, head against the headboard. His eyes stayed closed.
“I was sitting with my brother, Pasha, upon a stone wall at the beach. It was the evening before I came to this place. I was unsure if I had made the right decision to go with my father. To leave Pasha behind. I had wanted to throw myself into my work to forget the ordeal we had both gone through. But Pasha told me I needed something new, and that whatever it was lie across the ocean waiting for me. Something fulfilling. He said that, surely, wallowing in guilt, in anger and sadness, would not help me heal my wounds although he was dealing with wounds of his own.”
I wondered what wounds he meant. I had seen the scars on his wings. More pain. More scars. Mangled and twisted. He had died and would do so again. Moreover, he had muttered something about the shore. And here it appeared in his story. What had happened to him?
As if sensing my questions, he inhaled deeply.
“I will tell you of the things that transpired eventually. It was… horrible. It is still too raw for me. I apologize for these strange disjointed hints of pain, of suffering.”
“No, no. It’s okay. We will discuss it all later,” I said appreciatively. “Go on.”
“Hmm. Even after Pasha’s encouragement, I still felt apprehension about traveling to this land. All at once, I heard a woman singing on the beach, yet I saw no one.
I heard the sound of wildly swaying wind chimes, of rain, of whipping winds, but there were nothing anywhere to make such sounds.
My brother thought I was crazy. But that voice stirred my spirit as I stared out at that dark water. It was mournful, like a siren in a tempest whose heart had been broken to pieces.
At one point, she whispered a barely discernible plea: ‘Someone, just please help me.’ ‘I can’t do this.’”
I gasped in alarm, my heart hammering away so hard I thought I would have a heart attack. I knew at once the woman was me. It was me who had been pleading in turmoil, with those precise words, wanting someone to swoop down and save me. By the Goddess…
Sasha continued his tale, perhaps not noticing my change in demeanor. “I didn’t know where she was, or what it was she did not want to do, but I told my brother to give me a moment.
I stood and walked along the shore, looking for someone in need, for anything strange. I never found any such woman. I spoke a word of peace to her, whoever she was, wherever she was.”
At the same time, we both said:“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be.”
Sasha stopped. He opened his eyes and stared at me in awe. “You heard those words?”
I nodded, heart still pounding. Which of us was having these heart troubles? Him or me?
Sasha shook his head, rubbing his face. “Madness. But truly amazing nonetheless,” he said quietly.
“Yeah…” I responded. I didn’t know what else to say.
“It was you,” he said, not asked.
“I suppose so…”
Sasha continued.
“I returned to my brother to conclude our talk. I told him I wanted to stay a while, and he stayed with me. The song turned into something sweeter after a time. I went looking yet again but never found you. Of course I could not. You were nowhere near me.
Eventually we left. Pasha and I parted ways, and I returned to my home.
No matter what I did, I could not shake your voice from my mind that evening. It sent shivers down my spine. So I returned to the beach. There was nothing else for it; I would have remained awake all night agonizing over my travels the next day anyway. Why not do so surrounded by such mystical music?
I went to a quiet place, book and blanket in hand. The water was complete still, yet the sound of waves was everywhere. Intangible, lapping against the shore.”
I recalled when I had mentioned sitting at the beach watching waves lapping on the shore. He had paused then, as we stood in his living room, thinking of something. I now knew he had recalled this event and wondered at the similarities.
“The sunset was vibrant, strangely so. It was stunning, like a painting. No one else seemed to find the sight of note but me.
You were singing, but again in sorrow. I stayed out there, reading a book and meditating, until others went away from the beach. Until only I remained. Your faint song, the softest whispers of singing, became sweet again. So much singing, you did. By the gods so much singing. It was like a quiet concert.”
I covered my face. “I’m glad you caught them,” I said, laughing.
“There was only one song I caught well enough to hear the words. You sang it over and over. I did not sleep until you uttered nothing more, your voice fading away. I felt empty at the silence, but content in that, perhaps, my presence had calmed this siren, that perhaps her broken heart had somewhat mended. Unfortunately for me; the absence of your songs caused a melancholy to settle in my spirit. A longing. I came here looking for your voice. I questioned your love of voices because it shocked me, the similarities we continue to share.”
“Hmmm,” I vocalized, not unlike he so often did.
Sasha regarded me, shaking his head in wonder. “Repeating that event back, it is obvious that this woman was you. At the time, back when it happened, I regarded it as a very strange occurrence or perhaps my descent into madness,” he said.
“You most certainly are not mad,” I said.
“Indeed. I know very well at this point that your experience across the ocean happened at that time. You knew my words.”
“I remember them well. Just like a lot of things so far, we have these experiences, the aspects of ourselves that are too similar to be a coincidence. We are like mirrors.”
“Only one of us is larger.”
“Sasha!” I exclaimed.
He laughed at me, hugging me. Then he lay down onto the bed again.
“Speak to me of that same evening,” he said.
I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbow, looking into his eyes.
“I was at the beach too. Certainly the same night, the same week you appeared at school. I have this one particular spot on the beach where no one goes but me. I would make myself a wood fire and look at the smoke swirl into tendrils, embers scattering to the wind. I would sit there to watch storms roll in the distance, writing poetry or doing homework or what have you.”
Sasha nodded, acknowledging the picture I painted was the same as his Call. I nudged him, making him smile.
“But that day? I was having an awful time. Every year I dreaded the same thing, but I always escaped. This time, there was no more running. I was cornered, trapped. And the choice was before me. I stared across the ocean and cried. I said it as you heard. ‘I can’t do this. Please help me.’ I just wanted someone to get me out of that situation, but I wasn’t willing to ask for it again. I was so tired of disappointment.
So I’m sitting there in front of these hypnotic flames singing to myself, trying to shake off those bad spirits. Couldn’t even write a poem about my own despair.”
“Impossible. I refuse to believe such nonsense,” he said, chuckling.
“Shocking, I know,” I agreed, smiling. “That’s when I heard a thunderstorm on the horizon. At least there was that, I thought. My greatest comfort to cheer me.
I’m listening to that distant storm, but there were no clouds, no darkness, no strike of lightning. It puzzled me.
But the sky. Oh Sasha, that was the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. The same wonderful night sky you saw. It was brighter than normal, like fire and roses and gold melding with the sea. I have never seen a more beautiful place for the Goddess to drift into slumber.
I stood up and looked around. Further down the beach people were still going into the water, chatting, lazing about, like nothing was happening. Like this gorgeous sky and this distant storm did not exist.
Then I heard this voice. It was faint. Super faint. But so deep—“ I patted his chest, now knowing it was him. “Your voice; you said those words to me such that my soul was contented.”
“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be,” he repeated quietly. “I live by these words. I acknowledge the feelings and emotions, the pain and joy, that exist in me, that often loom before me. The negative ones will not simply vanish because I ignore them. Sometimes it is easy to face them. And sometimes it is so, so hard, Leila. So hard it feels impossible. But I try, still.”
“And your way of facing your emotions is the truth. I did as you suggested that night; the intense sorrow I felt was for a reason, for many reasons. And I just let all that sorrow unfold so I could face it. Your words were like a warm hug in the midst of my despair. Thank you.”
“You are always welcome,” he said, stroking my face. “Go on.”
“After that, I stayed out there all night. The storm never showed itself, but only grew louder. It’s like it rolled only for me. And it did, didn’t it?
I slept out there under the stars that night. Didn’t care about school. Didn’t care about anyone or anything. Your voice of peace washed away all my worries. So after that I just sang as the thunder peeled, and I did so all evening and into the night. I started singing to you specifically after that. Joyously. I broke out my best numbers,” I said. I covered my face, cracking up.
He laughed quietly. “Indeed; as I said, what I could discern was beautiful.”
I uncovered my face and smiled. “Thank you,” I said. I sighed, reaching my tale’s conclusion. “The next day I felt like I had come out of a deep meditation. Like the sorrow of yesterday did not exist. I had hoped to the Sun that your voice was the Answer to what troubled me. Then your voice stopped for a time. Until today.”

I have been searching. Yesterday, when i got lunch, i eat little and already felt satisfied, which weirded me out. Then, when i was sleeping, i woke up, i vomited (no blood or anything), i had belly aches, lots of gas, and got back to sleep. In the morning, i had a headache and no disposition to do anything, feeling nauseous and no appetite. The pain then stopped after i took a medicine, but it came back not so long after i ate meat after my appetite coming back, so i changed for fruits and salad. I can hear strange noises, i feel a burning sensation in the abdomen, and i feel uncomfortable. I can also feel a small lump close to my abdomen, that i am not sure if i felt it before. The same symptons match. Am i doomed? If anyone here can give me a insight, i would greatly appreciate it.
Edit: added some other sensations and more details. Sorry, I am devastated, so i forgot some stuff.

Dracula: World of War --- The Violet Reaper ---- Humans Don’t Make Good Familiars Book 1 ---- The Lonely World --- Discord ---- YouTube --- My Patreon --- My Author's Page --- ArcAngel98 Wiki ---- The Next Best Hero ---- HDMGF Book 2 ---- Jess and Blinx: The Wizard ---- The Questing Parties ---- Zombies ---- Previous
Jake’s POV
One more, rather intense, sparing session later, and I was back in Suma and Luna’s room. I was being treated for the injuries I’d received during the third round. It was a simple place. Stone walls, those glowing braids sewn into the walls and hanging from the ceiling. The furniture, if you call it that, were just metal and wooden bars and poles placed around the room. In the corner of the room were two boxes, with drapes hanging over the only opening, and a cushion made of animal pelts to sleep in. Lying on the floor, Suma was standing at my side, casting healing spells.
“Jake, these injures are terrible! What happened?” Suma asked. Luna was out with Ciel and his son at the moment, getting seeds and other things from the local market.
“I ran out of mana in the third round of training, and got hit by easily thirty spells in less than ten seconds; from all sides.” I groaned, wincing in pain with every other breath.
“Well, after training with the Royal Mages, I suppose I cannot be surprised that you were injured. How did your other teammates fair?”
“No, it was just me versus them.” I said. Suma gasped snorted in shock.
“W-what?! Then it is no wonder you were injured so badly! Why did they not stop after the first round if they were not going to at least heal you?”
“I wasn’t hurt until the end of the third round. Actually, they ended it because I was injured. They had healers there, but I wanted you to heal me instead since you know-” I coughed hard, feeling my chest rattle and bringing my hand to cover my mouth as I did. Pulling it away, I saw some blood and a cold chill ran straight down my spine and into my stomach. “Oh, that’s probably not good.” Suma immediately fluttered over to my chest, and started another healing spell.
“Never before have I been so grateful for all those confusing lessons on your people’s anatomy.” She said in a frustrated huff.
“Just wish I could have made it through that final round. If I hadn’t run out of mana, my magnetic barrier spell would have stayed up.”
“Jake, it is nothing short of a miracle that you lasted one round, let alone two. And alone no less!”
“You know I won those first two rounds.” I said, smugly.
“You have a head injury, Jake.” Suma said, unfazed. “Once you have stopped spitting up blood, I will treat that too.”
“No, really!” I protested. “And I think I could have won the third one too.”
“If they had not pelted you relentlessly with attack spells?” Suma asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Exactly.” Reaching a hand into my pocket, I pulled out a small wooden plank, engraved with runic symbols and the Queen’s seal, and showed it to Suma. “Got this though.”
“Oh, a Rune-Maker’s permit?”
“Yup. Totally worth it.” I said, just before my toe suddenly popped back into place, sending a sharp and stabbing pain through my entire foot. “AHH! Son of a… ow!”
“That was the last of your injuries. Please, in the future, if you plan on breaking every bone in your body again… change your plans.”
“It wasn’t every bone.”
“But it was quite a lot of them.” She shook her head, probably annoyed. “What are your plans now that you have your license?”
“Nothing immediately, but when we get back to Zach-Ashem, it’ll help with my work with Sela-Car.”
“And what about for the rest of the day? Not another sparring session, I hope?”
“No, but I wish it were.” I said, suddenly feeling anxious. “It’s time.”
“For?”
“To learn how to heal myself.” Holding up my missing hand, she suddenly realized what I meant.
“Ah, do you want me to stay with you while you do?” Suma asked, trying to be gentle, but I’m sure she was still nervous after what happened in the desert. She was no more excited about this than I was.
“Yeah, that…” A deep guttural sigh escaped my lip, almost without me even noticing. “That’d be nice.”
Lying down on the floor, Suma by my head for moral support, it was time to delve into Deyja’s memories. Falling into darkness, I felt that haze wash over my whole body. Searching for information about how he healed himself, despite famously having Death-Mage, I opened the first memory I found. Slowly, everything came into focus as the memory took shape. The first thing I noticed was how high up I was; Deyja was tall. On my, or rather his, left, stood Ashem, who looked different from the last time I saw a memory with him in it. He looked younger, smaller. Both were in a field of rolling hills, surrounded by flowers; some of which came up to their knees. He was using magic to create illusions, and they both were watching them.
“Let us begin our lesson.” Ashem said, his voice rolling like thunder, even despite his youth.
“Thank you again, my friend. I have been wanting to learn to dual-cast for a century now, but have had little time while managing my sections of the project.”
“It is my pleasure, Deyja. I know how hard you have been working with the Neame, and am more than happy to help.” The illusions began to take shape, however it was not pictures, but words written in a language I did not know, floating in the air.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Queen Ompera’s POV
“Leave us.” I ordered my staff. “Svend and I must have a private conversation regarding important matters of state.” Immediately, they all left my private chamber, leaving myself and Svend alone; finally. We laid down in my roost, my head resting on his wing. It had been a long day, full of boring military and diplomatic talks and meetings. All I wanted now was to rest and enjoy my time with him alone.
“Important matters of state? I am certain they all know the truth by this point. Why bother keeping it secret from them further, Ompera?”
“Those gossips would tell our whole kingdom if I ever actually confirmed anything. Let them keep whispering rumors quietly.” I told him, closing my eyes and relaxing.
“Did anything interesting happen today?” Svend asked.
“The campaign to push out the Union from Island of Sangu has officially started. Forces left today, prepared to use Tactical-Scale magic. Evacuations will begin immediately. But I do not want to talk about that.” I told him.
“Okay, then what about the Viking familiar. You went and watched his training today, yes? What did you think?”
I stopped for a moment, unsure how to answer. “He terrifies me.”
“Someone is scary enough to frighten you? He must be quite the intimidating fellow then.” Svend joked.
“Never once in my life have I met someone with so much mana, and such complex and powerful spells. When I requested the General to test him under the guise of training the Royal Mages, I knew what to expect somewhat. I’ve used my Mana Gaze on him before, but I have never seen his complex spells in use until today.” Images of the training flashed into my mind.
“What did he look like?”
“The sheer amount of mana that the spell he used to protect himself with was staggering. It would burn through the entire mana reservoir of the Royal Mages in less than a minute. Yet he sustained it for almost ten minutes. Maybe longer. It looked like wave after wave of mana was just devoured by the air itself. Mana flickered in the air like lightning. Regarding complexity, the only thing I have ever seen even come close to it was Ritual-Magic, and Tactical-Scale magic. But none of that was what truly frightened me.”
“Then what?” Svend asked, listening intently. Clearly uneasy with my descriptions.
“He won.”
“His team won?”
“He fought alone, and still overwhelmed an entire attack squadron of Royal Mages, twice. He was only defeated because he ran out of mana; sacrificed to that monstrous spell. And even when he was finally hit by attack magic, he suffered minimal injuries; until all of the remaining mages seized the opportunity to attack him all at once. But still he refused healing, preferring to have his master heal him instead. Despite how severe his wounds were, he was able to contact his master and left without complaint after receiving his permit.”
“Is this true?” Svend asked, then after a moment of silence he had another question. “Permit?”
“He went through all of that just so that I would issue him a Rune-Crafter’s permit.”
“So, he is insane?”
“Perhaps… But still, to use spells so advanced that they outclassed rituals, and were more powerful defenses that most of the spells used by the dragons; if the records are accurate that is.” I said, suddenly very sure that asking him to go to the islands was the correct choice. “His Drake Squadron should arrive tomorrow. I look forward to seeing the results of his mission.”

Dracula: World of War --- The Violet Reaper ---- Humans Don’t Make Good Familiars Book 1 ---- The Lonely World --- Discord ---- YouTube --- My Patreon --- My Author's Page --- ArcAngel98 Wiki ---- The Next Best Hero ---- HDMGF Book 2 ---- Jess and Blinx: The Wizard ---- The Questing Parties ---- Zombies ---- Previous
Jake’s POV
One more, rather intense, sparing session later, and I was back in Suma and Luna’s room. I was being treated for the injuries I’d received during the third round. It was a simple place. Stone walls, those glowing braids sewn into the walls and hanging from the ceiling. The furniture, if you call it that, were just metal and wooden bars and poles placed around the room. In the corner of the room were two boxes, with drapes hanging over the only opening, and a cushion made of animal pelts to sleep in. Lying on the floor, Suma was standing at my side, casting healing spells.
“Jake, these injures are terrible! What happened?” Suma asked. Luna was out with Ciel and his son at the moment, getting seeds and other things from the local market.
“I ran out of mana in the third round of training, and got hit by easily thirty spells in less than ten seconds; from all sides.” I groaned, wincing in pain with every other breath.
“Well, after training with the Royal Mages, I suppose I cannot be surprised that you were injured. How did your other teammates fair?”
“No, it was just me versus them.” I said. Suma gasped snorted in shock.
“W-what?! Then it is no wonder you were injured so badly! Why did they not stop after the first round if they were not going to at least heal you?”
“I wasn’t hurt until the end of the third round. Actually, they ended it because I was injured. They had healers there, but I wanted you to heal me instead since you know-” I coughed hard, feeling my chest rattle and bringing my hand to cover my mouth as I did. Pulling it away, I saw some blood and a cold chill ran straight down my spine and into my stomach. “Oh, that’s probably not good.” Suma immediately fluttered over to my chest, and started another healing spell.
“Never before have I been so grateful for all those confusing lessons on your people’s anatomy.” She said in a frustrated huff.
“Just wish I could have made it through that final round. If I hadn’t run out of mana, my magnetic barrier spell would have stayed up.”
“Jake, it is nothing short of a miracle that you lasted one round, let alone two. And alone no less!”
“You know I won those first two rounds.” I said, smugly.
“You have a head injury, Jake.” Suma said, unfazed. “Once you have stopped spitting up blood, I will treat that too.”
“No, really!” I protested. “And I think I could have won the third one too.”
“If they had not pelted you relentlessly with attack spells?” Suma asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Exactly.” Reaching a hand into my pocket, I pulled out a small wooden plank, engraved with runic symbols and the Queen’s seal, and showed it to Suma. “Got this though.”
“Oh, a Rune-Maker’s permit?”
“Yup. Totally worth it.” I said, just before my toe suddenly popped back into place, sending a sharp and stabbing pain through my entire foot. “AHH! Son of a… ow!”
“That was the last of your injuries. Please, in the future, if you plan on breaking every bone in your body again… change your plans.”
“It wasn’t every bone.”
“But it was quite a lot of them.” She shook her head, probably annoyed. “What are your plans now that you have your license?”
“Nothing immediately, but when we get back to Zach-Ashem, it’ll help with my work with Sela-Car.”
“And what about for the rest of the day? Not another sparring session, I hope?”
“No, but I wish it were.” I said, suddenly feeling anxious. “It’s time.”
“For?”
“To learn how to heal myself.” Holding up my missing hand, she suddenly realized what I meant.
“Ah, do you want me to stay with you while you do?” Suma asked, trying to be gentle, but I’m sure she was still nervous after what happened in the desert. She was no more excited about this than I was.
“Yeah, that…” A deep guttural sigh escaped my lip, almost without me even noticing. “That’d be nice.”
Lying down on the floor, Suma by my head for moral support, it was time to delve into Deyja’s memories. Falling into darkness, I felt that haze wash over my whole body. Searching for information about how he healed himself, despite famously having Death-Mage, I opened the first memory I found. Slowly, everything came into focus as the memory took shape. The first thing I noticed was how high up I was; Deyja was tall. On my, or rather his, left, stood Ashem, who looked different from the last time I saw a memory with him in it. He looked younger, smaller. Both were in a field of rolling hills, surrounded by flowers; some of which came up to their knees. He was using magic to create illusions, and they both were watching them.
“Let us begin our lesson.” Ashem said, his voice rolling like thunder, even despite his youth.
“Thank you again, my friend. I have been wanting to learn to dual-cast for a century now, but have had little time while managing my sections of the project.”
“It is my pleasure, Deyja. I know how hard you have been working with the Neame, and am more than happy to help.” The illusions began to take shape, however it was not pictures, but words written in a language I did not know, floating in the air.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Queen Ompera’s POV
“Leave us.” I ordered my staff. “Svend and I must have a private conversation regarding important matters of state.” Immediately, they all left my private chamber, leaving myself and Svend alone; finally. We laid down in my roost, my head resting on his wing. It had been a long day, full of boring military and diplomatic talks and meetings. All I wanted now was to rest and enjoy my time with him alone.
“Important matters of state? I am certain they all know the truth by this point. Why bother keeping it secret from them further, Ompera?”
“Those gossips would tell our whole kingdom if I ever actually confirmed anything. Let them keep whispering rumors quietly.” I told him, closing my eyes and relaxing.
“Did anything interesting happen today?” Svend asked.
“The campaign to push out the Union from Island of Sangu has officially started. Forces left today, prepared to use Tactical-Scale magic. Evacuations will begin immediately. But I do not want to talk about that.” I told him.
“Okay, then what about the Viking familiar. You went and watched his training today, yes? What did you think?”
I stopped for a moment, unsure how to answer. “He terrifies me.”
“Someone is scary enough to frighten you? He must be quite the intimidating fellow then.” Svend joked.
“Never once in my life have I met someone with so much mana, and such complex and powerful spells. When I requested the General to test him under the guise of training the Royal Mages, I knew what to expect somewhat. I’ve used my Mana Gaze on him before, but I have never seen his complex spells in use until today.” Images of the training flashed into my mind.
“What did he look like?”
“The sheer amount of mana that the spell he used to protect himself with was staggering. It would burn through the entire mana reservoir of the Royal Mages in less than a minute. Yet he sustained it for almost ten minutes. Maybe longer. It looked like wave after wave of mana was just devoured by the air itself. Mana flickered in the air like lightning. Regarding complexity, the only thing I have ever seen even come close to it was Ritual-Magic, and Tactical-Scale magic. But none of that was what truly frightened me.”
“Then what?” Svend asked, listening intently. Clearly uneasy with my descriptions.
“He won.”
“His team won?”
“He fought alone, and still overwhelmed an entire attack squadron of Royal Mages, twice. He was only defeated because he ran out of mana; sacrificed to that monstrous spell. And even when he was finally hit by attack magic, the injuries he suffered minimal injuries; until all of the remaining mages seized the opportunity to attack him all at once. But still he refused healing, preferring to have his master heal him instead. Despite how severe his wounds were, he was able to contact his master and left without complaint after receiving his permit.”
“Is this true?” Svend asked, then after a moment of silence he had another question. “Permit?”
“He went through all of that just so that I would issue him a Rune-Crafter’s permit.”
“So, he is insane?”
“Perhaps… But still, to use spells so advanced that they outclassed rituals, and were more powerful defenses that most of the spells used by the dragons; if the records are accurate that is.” I said, suddenly very sure that asking him to go to the islands was the correct choice. “His Drake Squadron should arrive tomorrow. I look forward to seeing the results of his mission.”

I’m 14, I’ve always had horrible period cramps and have had to go home from school a lot when I’m on my period. I do tend to have a pretty high pain tolerance but I’m often left crying and trying not to be sick because of how bad it can get
I started the pill around three months ago to help. My mum has PCOS and also went on the pill at a young age to help with her cramps and she told me that for her it was great and the periods she had on it were so much better.
I take it for 63 days and then have a 5 day break. It worked at first and I didn’t have a period for around two months. Then I got a chest infection and had to go on antibiotics which I know can interfere with the pill. I had a bit of spotting but nothing major and it stopped after. But then maybe a week and a half later I started getting spotting again which was more just like an actual, but light period with brown blood and occasionally some red. This went on for around two weeks until I then went on my break
I just started my first ever break on the pill and it’s not actually much better. I’ve always gotten occasional cramps in between periods that I put down to ovulation and then the pill, which I’ve had again but it is much less severe than my previous periods and is a lot more of a stabbing pain than the ache I was used to? It kind of feels like a string of pain ig? Earlier I got a stabbing pain in my lower back/butt which is normal so I didnt think much but then I started coughing which triggered it really suddenly and badly. I was then almost sick and when I went to the toilet earlier it was really really painful and felt like I was about to shit my organs out.
I keep getting these pains i my back/bum and ocassionaly my abdomen and even my chest. Though the actual uterus cramps are much better they are still there and this new pain is worrying me .
I’ve looked into PCOS but I don’t have many symptoms, my skin is fairly clear, I have no abnormal hair growth and the hair on my head is thick and healthy. My periods were also quite regular before I started on the pill. I’ve also looked into endo and I’ve read that the pill can make some symptoms worse because of the estrogen or soemthing.
One of the things I want to know is what, in your experience, cramps with endometriosis feel like- when I’ve tried to research it isnt specific at all. Mine have always been just an insane and unbearable ache.
Honestly I have no clue what this is, I’m ill quite frequently, usually with coughs and chest infections ect, I think I just just have a really bad immune system but idk. I don’t know if maybe I am just ill and worrying because it just so happens that it lines up with my bleed.
Also, for the past couple of years I’ve suffered with extreme fatigue that just gets worse really because I also get quite bad insomnia. people have tried to put it down to long Covid because of my coughs but due to all of my issues with periods I’m not sure- I definitely have some kind of hormonal issue but I’m really confused tbh???
Sorry this is really long and a lot of waffle but a lot of my symptoms seem to line up with endometriosis though I’m not sure enough of them do and if my pain is bad enough?
If anyone can help I would really appreciate it Thank you !!