ArtisticVicu
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      • Dancing in the Rain
      • Springtime Joy
      • A Force to be Reckoned With
      • Bittersweet
      • Something begins, Something ends
      • Playing with Fire
      • Outside the Window
      • Two Sides of the Same Coin
      • Forced Silence
      • Crossed Paths
      • Fairy Tale Ending
      • Birthday Wish
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      • Day 1: Fish
      • Day 2: Wisp
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    • Caffeine Challenge #24-28
      • Canis Major and the Swallow - Part 1
      • Canis Major and the Swallow - Part 2
      • Canis Major and the Swallow - Part 3
      • Canis Major and the Swallow - Part 4
      • Canis Major and the Swallow - Part 5
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      • Bring Me a Poem!
      • Weekly Short Story
      • Five Words, One Story
      • Writing Marathon
    • RPApril Extravaganza 2018
      • Single Piece Events
      • The Triple Threat
      • Five Words, One Story
      • Writing Marathon
    • RPApril Extravaganza 2017
      • Single Piece Events
      • The Triple Threat
      • The Decathlon
      • Five Words, One Story
      • Writing Marathon
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June 2018
Back
September 2018

July 2018

  • Can't stop, won't stop
  • Every day, a little bit closer
  • ​“He’s too young to know what this means…”
<
>
The schoolyard was full of children laughing and screaming. A glance would see nothing more than happy children but a keen eye or someone that had once been part of the outskirts would be able to pick out the kids that were faking it, the ones that didn't have friends, the ones that were ostracized by their own age group.

He hit the pavement hard. The unforgiving surface bit into his arms and hands, his body instinctively reacting by filling his vision with tears and quaking under the onslaught of pain. The small gaggle of kids that had slammed into him - or, more specifically, the gaggle of kids following the brute that had shoved him to the ground for no other reason than a laugh - seemed to swarm behind his aggressor, laughing and cooing words that stung. He blinked back what tears he could but there were too many in his eyes and they escaped without his permission as he glared up at all of them.

"Crybaby! Crybaby!" the gaggle chanted, the aggressor's grin growing broader and broader.

Said aggressor took a few steps forward and leaned forward. "Aw, what's wrong, Newman? Trip over your own shoelaces?" The gale of laughter ebbed with the gaggle. Not a single face held guilt or sympathy. There was no one coming to aid him. "Don't you know how to tie those?" His aggressor straightened, looking back at the gaggle. "Oh, that's right. You never had anyone to show you how."

It felt like his insides were on fire with the desire to hurt but he knew that he couldn't do that again. Tears still streaming down his face, he shoved himself back up to his feet as the gaggle walked away.

He planted his feet as Unna had taught him to and balled his fists. The pain from his hands got worse and he used it as the reminder he needed.

"Hey Beckett!" The gaggle stopped but didn't still. His aggressor was the only one stagnant as their eyes met. He knew he shouldn't push but he was sick and tired of being thrown around like some rag doll.

"At least someone back home loves me!"

Something dark flickered across the other's face and the gaggle became a threatening shadow behind Beckett. It was all he could do to swallow down the bitter taste of regret.

He blinked, sucking in a breath. It hurt as it stuttered in his chest as he watched the gaggle walk away. Fighting through the scratching in his chest, he tried again.

"Hey Beckett!" The gaggle stopped but didn't still. His aggressor was the only one stagnant as their eyes met. He blinked, testing the words before letting them go.

"Unna's making spaghetti," tumbled past his lips. "There's always leftovers so there's plenty for you to have some if you want to come over. Unna also just got me a new basketball hoop. I don't have a new ball like you but I have one we could use."

The gaggle was still swarming behind his aggressor but it had become sedated, unsure.

Beckett stared at him.

He shrugged. His arms throbbed. "If you want to come, Unna picks me up at the back corner of the parking lot."

"I know," Beckett spat but the trill of it sounded off.

He turned and started for the nurse's office.

Someone was standing in his designated pickup spot and he had to force his feet to keep a steady beat against the cement. There, standing in his spot, was Beckett and the other looked strange without the gaggle of kids following behind.

Anxiety bit into his chest as hard as any repercussion.

Beckett jumped when he settled at their side. "Unna's almost here. I can see the car from here."

Beckett's gaze naturally followed his to the line of cars entering the school parking lot for kid pickup. A sedan in decent condition and in a desperate need of a bath broke away from the flow of traffic and started for them. It came to a stop at the curb and he walked over to the trunk as the hood popped. "You can toss your bag in here," he offered as he did just that.

He left Beckett to decide as he opened the back door and clambered in, announcing, "Beckett's coming over, if that's still ok."

His Unna looked to him before glancing to Beckett out the back window as the other kid closed the trunk. "Did they get permission from their parents?"

He shrugged. Beckett started to climb in as he turned to ask. "Did you ask if you could come?"

Beckett froze.

He frowned and blinked. He fought the urge to gasp for breath as a sedan in decent condition and in a desperate need of a bath came to a stop at the curb. He walked over to the trunk as the hood popped, offering, "You can toss your bag in here with mine, if you want."

He dropped his bag into the awaiting compartment and took a step to the side. Beckett only seemed to hesitate for a moment before their bag joined his and he closed the trunk with a resounding thud.

"Unna's gonna want to know if you have permission to come over," he gently warned as he walked to the door. Beckett followed but didn't say anything.

He opened the back door and slid in, scooting over so that Beckett could follow. "Hi, Unna. This is Beckett Parker."

Unna shifted in the driver's seat enough to meet Beckett's gaze. "Hello, Beckett. I'm Angel, Jamie's Unna. How long will you be staying with us?"

Beckett shook their head. "My parents work late so I just have to be home by dark."

"Will you need a ride?"

Beckett shook their head again.

Unna's sharp gaze turned on him and if his chest hadn't already been hurting, it would have constricted in fear. "We will talk when we get home."

He should have known better than to think his Unna wouldn't have noticed.

The drive was quiet, barring the low music from the radio. The sun was warm through the back window but he barely noticed. It was all he could do to keep his breathing as normal as he could get away with as his heart seemed to be attempting an escape through his rib cage. 

"Hey, Newman," Beckett whispered. "You ok?"

Apparently not normal enough. He caught Unna glancing his way through the rear view mirror. "Yeah, why?" he tried.

"Your breathing kind of funny."

The car stilled as the red light shone through the front window over the car ahead of them. A smile big and fake plastered itself on his face. "I'm fine. Was seeing how long I could hold my breath to pass the time."

Beckett didn't believe him.

He didn't get the chance to try and convince them.

Someone's horn suddenly blared to life and he brought his head around in time to see a car speed into the intersection from the opposite direction.

There was no time for the big rig driver to hit the breaks.

He sucked in a breath as the car was sent into the one in front of them and the semi came careening towards them.

His chest was on fire. He curled in on himself as deep, bone wrenching coughs tore at the air he couldn't get enough of.

A sedan in decent condition and in a desperate need of a bath came to a stop at the curb.

"James," curled around him as a soft touch passed through his hair. It probably wasn't the first time it had done that as it did it again. "Breathe."

He sucked in a rattling breath. It came out as a cough, too. 

"Again."

He sucked in another breath. This time his lungs filled with it without rejecting it and he let the air out in a rush only to suck more in greedily.

"That's it." A sob choked him. "That's my good boy."

"Unna," he wailed. "Unna, I couldn't-I didn’t- I didn't mean to. Unna, I'm sorry."

Unna's arms tightened around him. "It's ok. You did the right thing. It'll be alright."

"Miss…ah, Miss Angel?" It was Beckett's voice. "What just happened?"

He felt his Unna shift around him but the arms holding him tight didn't let go. "Once we're in the car. He's done it too many times too close together for it to be safe. Don't worry, I won't take you home till you have what answers we can share."

There was silence for long enough that he thought Beckett had followed Unna's soft spoken command but then Beckett's voice drifted to him again. "Will he be ok?"

He felt the faint chuckle that rolled through Unna's chest. "As long as he doesn't do it again, yes. Now," Unna grunted as he was pulled off the ground; he tried to hide the spasm of pain shooting through his chest from the motion, "if you would be so kind as to grab his bag for me, I'll get him in the car and us on our way."

Unna placed him carefully in his seat but he still hissed in pain as he was placed and buckled in.

Unna's hand was steady in his hair. "Just a bit longer, James."

He nodded against the touch.

The car shifted into drive with ease. It was several minutes later when he realized they were going the same route. Panic flared in his chest even as his mind screamed at him that Unna knew.

"Unna," he choked out as Beckett exclaimed to his utter surprise, "We can't go this way!"

He looked over, eyes wide despite how his chest hurt to find Beckett gripping at both front seats with white knuckles.

Unna looked to the other child as the car came to a stop at red light. A different one from the one they had been caught at prior, one far sooner than that one. "It'll be ok, Beckett. James has delayed us enough. We won't get caught in it again."

Beckett stared at his Unna with terror edged into their face. Beckett swallowed thickly, glancing at him briefly before asking, "How….why do I…"

Whatever Beckett had wanted to ask died on their tongue. He wondered if it was for a loss of words or too many questions to ask at once.

The light turned green and Beckett sat back as the car started forward.

"Beckett," Unna spoke, voice even but thick with warning, "what I am about to share with you must not leave this car. If you speak to anyone that I have not told you knows, there will be consequences that I cannot protect you from." Unna met Beckett's gaze through the rear view mirror. "Do you understand?"

Beckett's gaze flickered to him but he had nothing to offer.

It had been a long time since his chest had hurt like this.

Why didn't he learn?

"Yes," Beckett replied, voice quaking.

"Good." The car slowed as the traffic thickened to a stop. "Do you know what happened to us?"

Beckett shifted in the seat. "We went back in time?"

Unna smiled encouragingly. "Similar, but not quite. James rewinds time, or resets it to a point. He's gotten better at controlling when to he resets but sometimes he doesn't have much choice." Unna's gaze flickered to him in the rear view mirror. "Often he keeps it to only a few seconds, maybe a minute. Any longer than that and it puts a strain on his body. Or, more specifically, his heart."

"Why his heart?" Beckett cut in.

"We're not sure," he explained, sinking back into his seat a bit more. The pain was slowly ebbing. That or he was getting used to it. He wasn't overly picky. "They think it has something to do with how the ability is stored in my body or that it could be some natural limiter that keeps me in check."

Beckett's attention went to Unna. "Do you have the same ability?"

The smile that pulled at Unna's lips was endearing and a bit sad. "No. I have a different ability but it isn't very useful when it comes to helping James."

"What is it?"

"Remembering."

Beckett frowned. "I don't understand."

Unna's expression turned thoughtful despite the expectant look in the gaze locked onto Beckett. "Do you remember the reset?"

Beckett opened their mouth but no words were forthcoming. He leaned his head back, expecting that. There were echoes if the ending point of the last reset was severe enough, but the only one that had ever remembered was Unna.

"Can you teach me how?"

He opened his eyes, looking at Beckett's determined face.

"Why?" Unna asked, curious; he parroted, confused.

Beckett looked at him. "Because I want to help."

"Can you see them?"

He pressed a hand over the earpiece to hear better. "Yeah," he confirmed. "Only two and the target, though."

"Anything you can do?"

"Not till you go in, like normal," he drawled, amused.

A huff from the other end but there was a touch of amusement in it. "Fine. Just don't let me get killed in there."

"Yeah, yeah," he assured them, even as those words jabbed at old wounds.

He watched his partner dash in, showboating like none other. One of the extras went down but the other and the target were very good at holding their own.

"Resetting," he warned.

He didn't wait for a confirmation as he blinked, taking in a breath as he reoriented.

"Who do I take out first?"

It eased the slight tension in his chest when their words were nothing like they had been. Every time he reset, he feared he would lose the one person that could remember. "The one on the far side. Move in, move quick. Don't showboat. It does you no good."

"Understood."

He watched and waited. Sure enough, later than before, his partner appeared dropping down on the one extra that had kept up with the initial attack. His partner's attack was solid, knocking the extra out cold.

"Target," he barked. "We'll play Hopscotch with the other."

"Don't kill me."

Heavy words spoken out of true concern despite their full trust in him made his heart hurt. "Just remember and I won't," he retorted, offering with it silently how much he meant that.

His partner went in for the target but again, the target held its own. The still conscious extra did its best to get in the way but he did mini resets, a second here, two there, each enough to give his partner enough time to adjust to what was coming and use it against the extra.

He caught sight of the blade before it buried itself in his partner's side.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

"I'm ok," crackled into his earpiece and he let the breath go.

"Are you sure?" he asked, heart racing.

"You reset. I'm fine." A pause. "Target first?"

He nodded despite them not being able to see. "Target first."

This time when his partner dropped in, the target was out cold first.

The other two were taken out just as quickly.

He leapt from his hiding spot and felt their arms around him before gravity even had a hold on him. Solid ground met the bottom of his feet and they grabbed at his wrist, pressing his palm against their side where they had been stabbed. "See? No stab wound."

The words were echoed in his earpiece but he was used to it. He nodded, smiling weakly. "I'm going to get you killed one of these days."

They barked a laugh. "Only after I drag you down with me. Besides, it'll take a lot more than that to stop me. Can't stop, won't stop, not till you're no longer there to watch my back."

"And you've got mine?"

They huffed a laugh. "Always, Newman," they teased. "Now come on. We've got to bag these guys before reinforcements show up."

He followed after them.

"Wow."

He looked up from the file he was reading, intrigued. "What?"

His partner looked over at him from the wall calendar they were staring at. "Can you believe it's been 16 years now?"

He frowned, putting the file down. "16 years since…" he prompted.

"Since the truck incident all those years ago," they explained. "With your Unna."

He blinked.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess it has, hasn't it?" he commented. He was stunned in all honesty. He hadn't kept track of time very well. His ability always did make keeping track of time weird. "And that was, what, only a few years before your ability showed?"

His partner hummed an affirmation. "I still don't know how Anna was so patient with me. I was worse than the rookies."

"Unna's always had a strange sort of patience," he agreed. "Still, I'm glad you agreed to come to my house that day, Beckett." He looked at the other, a soft smile pulling at his lips. "I'm not sure I would have made it this far without you."

Beckett grinned at him, all teeth despite the care in their gaze. "Oh please. You'd have lived till you were 100 even if I had walked away."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. If you say so."

He led the way back into the main area of the hero headquarters they were stationed with. Heroes of all sorts milled about or passed through to complete some task. He gave none of them much heed as he made his way to the front door.

He couldn’t quite grasp why there was a ringing in his ears.

Smoke choked him. That was the first thing he realized when he started to re-orientate himself with the world. When his brain started making sense of what he could see, terror flared through him just as much as his apprehension started to quickly spiral into anxiety.

"Beckett!" he called out, choking on the name. "Beckett!"

There was screaming, shouting, sirens. There was so much going on that he couldn't even piece together what had even happened. But he found Beckett.

It felt like his heart stopped.

"Beckett!" he screamed, rushing to their side. His ability was like needles under his skin but he knew that resetting without knowing wasn't going to help. So, instead, he started figuring out what he could do.

It was easy finding what to move first so that Beckett didn't end up more crushed as he removed rubble from on top of them. It only got harder when the villain appeared.

"It would seem I've found another little hero."

The voice shot ice down his spine and he whipped around, coming face to face with someone he hadn't thought to still be alive.

The villain's grin grew sharp. "And it seems I'm in luck. I've been looking for you, my little Save Point."

"Eros," he spat. "What are you doing here, alive?"

The villain spread his arms wide, the grin looking as if it would split the other's face. "You wound me, Jamie! I came to check on how my little boy was doing, to see how well my little Save Point has grown."

"I'm not your save point," he snarled.

Eros's fingers were digging into his cheeks before he could blink, hand pressed to the underside of his jaw and forcing his head back. "Oh, you have it all wrong, little Jamie-boy. You are my Save Point and you will do as I say if you want the world to survive."

"You won't remember anything I do," he bluffed. He didn't know that. He didn't know this man.

"Oh, but you're wrong," Eros assured him, and suddenly pain flared in his side. "I remember every." The pain intensified. "Little." Again. "Reset." And again. "And now you're going to reset us right back to the day you escaped my grasp the first time."

He gasped, trying to hold onto what was going on as the pain tried to take over. "What do you mean?"

"Had you not reset, I would have ended your precious Unna's life and taken you back into custody. But you just had to see the car speed through that blasted intersection," the pain suddenly tripled to emphasis the words, "and the damn truck heading your way. If I had just been a few minutes faster," another burst of pain, "then it would have worked."

They had just been talking about it, hadn't they? He and Beckett. How was it that they had managed to be talking about that day, of all days, and here he was facing his father who had wanted to use his abilities since he was born. He felt his ability churn under his skin and he wondered just how far back he could throw them, how far back his reset could reach.

Eros was still talking but he wasn't listening any more. Farther and farther he reached as he felt his life slowly drain from his side. Farther and farther he pushed, pushing back to that faithful day.

He was glad he had met Beckett.

He hoped Unna would forgive him in time.

He opened his eyes.

The unforgiving surface bit into his arms and hands, his body instinctively reacting by filling his vision with tears and quaking under the onslaught of pain. The small gaggle of kids that had slammed into him - or, more specifically, the gaggle of kids following the brute that had shoved him to the ground for no other reason than a laugh - seemed to swarm behind his aggressor, laughing and cooing words that had once stung. Numb to it all, he looked up, searching for a specific face from the crowd before him.

"Crybaby! Crybaby!" the gaggle chanted.

His aggressor wasn't grinning.

"I…Jamie?" Beckett spoke out, confusion and disbelief heavy with those two words. The gaggle fell silent and still.

He offered a weak smile. "I'm sorry Beckett. It was the only thing I could think of."

"Jamie, I don't-" They shook their head, taking a step forward. "How? Why?!"

"Eros."

Beckett hissed.

"Beckett." They met his gaze, their worry for him almost palpable. "Will you tell Unna that I'm sorry?"

Whatever color had filled Beckett's face slipped away as that sank it. Tears filled those eyes he had grown so accustom to seeing joyous, mischievous, that it made his heart hurt. "James, don't."

He offered a tight smile. "This way, he can't win."

"Jamie, please!"

"You'll tell Unna for me, won't you?"

They were there, arms wrapped tight around him, and the world jerked in a way that he had long since grown used to. How Beckett had the finite control to get them safely to Unna's side was breathtaking. He was sad he was going to miss out on that.

He looked up, not used to being in an eight-year-old's body after having grown out of it. He found his Unna there, alive and well, mouth covered by a shaking hand and tears streaming down a face he hadn't realized he had forgotten details of despite the photos he had kept.

"Unna," he started.

There was no pain. His threshold had grown to the point that pain only came in small amounts now. This, though, was like something snapped within him.

The last thing he saw was Unna and Beckett crying over him as he was swallowed by darkness.

The group hit the edge of the Moonwoods as the bright morning sun greeted the new day, their tail already long gone somewhere to the east. Even now there was hesitation on whether to push forward or to follow after the elves.

His boots hit the earth with a solid thud even as the other human ranger called out, "So we just letting them go?"

"It's not like there's anything else we can do," ground out the halfling checking the donkeys. "They're out of range to be of any bother anyways."

"I could try catching up," the young dragonborn spoke up. A number of the company reacted with sedated hostility but hostility nonetheless. He didn't like it and it seemed the third ranger of the company agreed, quickly interjecting, "I can go with."

"Are you sure, Dooooo?"

He looked from the third ranger to the older of the two dwarves in terms of being with the company who was also one of the leaders of the Rough and Tough Bunch, Opal. He looked back to see a determined expression on the other ranger's face. "It's best if we don't let each other wander off without a partner." Dooooo looked to the second dwarf, the second newest company member followed only by the dragonborn. "The dragonborn is your friend. Do you want to join us?"

Sam watched as even the newest dwarf distanced himself from the dragonborn. Guilt and regret churned in his gut, a sharp reminder that he wasn't doing anything to help the dragonborn feel more welcomed.

Before the dragonborn joined the company at the edge of their last city, and before the dwarf stuck with them after they had helped free a dragon from storm giants, Sam had been the newest member of the Rough and Tough Bunch. Despite the awkwardness of being half forced into the company due to the circumstances at the time, everyone had been rather welcoming, if not tolerant of his presence. In turn, he had come to enjoy all their company; even the odd half orc that worshiped yams and her feline friend who - from the brief words others had shared and the many things he had witnessed since - had a tongue that regularly got more than just the feline in trouble were decent folk. Odd, but decent. And after all the battles since, he had thought he had gained the group's trust, the three that led the company even listening to his words at times recently.

For whatever reason, this dragonborn gained ire from the majority and while the dragonborn was crude and clearly inexperienced, he didn't think it warranted so much hatred.

It was hard to tell if the dragonborn was even affected by it.

Dooooo shrugged. Before the pair could leave, the half orc walked over. Sam looked away as she touched Dooooo shoulder and assumed she was giving the ranger well wishes in her own way. He turned to the other human ranger who was currently staring at the cart.

"I don't think that's going to go far if we're not using a road," Jun voiced, stepping away from the donkeys.

Falcor shrugged. "I say it's worth a try, if nothing else."

"We will pull the cart into the treeline to keep it out of site but I agree with Jun," Opal spoke up. "The cart will only slow us down. Besides, we have four donkeys. They will be able to carry everything that we cannot. It will be fine."

Falcor made a face but ceded. Despite the three being the leaders, it was generally Opal's word that led them on. If Opal wasn't there, then it was Jun. Only once had it been left to Falcor to lead the company when both Jun and Opal were unavailable to lead.

It hadn't gone overly well but no one had died so there was that.

The two groups parted ways, the duo heading east along the treeline and the remaining company continuing north into the forest.

"Do you want us to lead?" Falcor spoke up over the noise of emptying the cart, unhitching the donkeys, and securing packs and items to the beasts' backs. Sam looked up first to Falcor before glancing around. It seemed odd he was startled by the thought that Falcor was talking about him. It hadn't been hard to figure out what and why the other ranger was offering. They were both familiar and quite comfortable traveling through forests. It would be easiest to keep them all on track.

Opal's gaze flickered to Sam and he found himself straightening. "If you are comfortable with it."

"Of course."

The company shifted around the donkeys, situating into a line even though they weren't quite ready to start moving again. Falcor had moved a few steps away and Sam approached carefully. He knew that look.

"Feel anything?" he inquired softly, not wanting to interrupt before Falcor was finished searching.

Falcor let out a sharp breath. "If there's an elemental out there, it's beyond my range." Falcor shot him a cocky grin. "Wanna give it a go?"

Sam smiled but shook his head. "If you can't sense anything, I doubt I'll have any luck. That skill isn't something one can get better than others at."

Falcor laughed. "Fair. Want to take point, then?"

Sam blinked at him. "You don't want to?"

Falcor shrugged. "I know you keep to yourself because you don't feel like one of the group but we trust you to hold your own." Falcor's gaze went over the group, specifically to the new dwarf and the feline. "More so than others." Falcor grinned at him. "Don't worry. I'll join back up with you when the trees get denser. I just want to help make sure the line keeps moving in the right direction."

Sam let out a huff of a laugh. "Have fun babysitting, then."

"Don't pity me quite yet," Falcor retorted, pointing a finger at Sam even as the other Ranger was already starting towards the back of the line. "You'll be next on babysitting duty soon enough."

Sam grinned in return. "I look forward to it."

Falcor laughed even as he threw his hand in the air as he left. Sam watched the other's progress for a while before turning his attention back to the forest and letting it wander around them. There was an edge to it that he didn't trust but he wanted to bet that had more to do with the unnamed threat they were going up against. Or, well, as unnamed as a zaratan was.

Sam couldn't help but feel like he was out of his element in this, pun notwithstanding. He could handle a fight with any sort of beast. Heck, he had just managed to survive going up against a number of storm and cloud giants, not to mention any other assortment of creature. But the only elemental he had ever had to attend with were the wind ones that had attacked them previously and he had only been so useful with that. Even the bow and arrows currently strapped to his back felt like a weight he was slowly collapsing under. What kind of Ranger couldn't hit a target to save a life?

Opal nodded at him and he turned, leading the way.

The trees took some time thickening that by the time Falcor joined him, it was already almost midday. Sam looked to the other as he stepped over a massive root. "You try seeing if there was anything around us again?"

"There's....something out there. An elemental, I think, but it's just at the edge of my range."

Sam nodded. "And the others? They holding up well enough?"

Falcor chuckled. "There's a few complaints from a few but, beyond that, they're doing just fine." Falcor fell silent for a moment. "How deep do you think we'll manage to get before we find any sort of sign of our target?"

Sam looked north. "If we're lucky, soon. But it's more likely we'll not find anything even if we make it to the heart of the forest."

"You don't trust the Princes?"

Sam shrugged. "I wasn't there for your last bet and I don't know if they were lying or not. For all I know, they could be, but it seems silly to stake that much money on a....a legend. There's something out here, sure, but I don't think they told us what it was on purpose."

Falcor opened his mouth but didn't get the chance to say anything. Sam caught sight of it the same time Falcor did and they both lept back as an arrow embedded itself into the earth before the footprints they had just vacated. A warning shot as the trees around them came alive with elves.

He didn't recognize the type of elves.

He really ought to have.

"You are trespassing," one of the leading elves decreed.

"We weren't meaning to," Falcor tried.

"We are simply passing through," Opal quickly added.

Jun spoke up as well. "We'll be on our way if you can-"

"You say you are not trespassing yet you stray far from the road," a different elf chastised.

"Turn around," another warned. "You won't live if you fight us."

That sent up an uproar first from the company quickly followed by the elves. Sam lost track of any of the words that were being spoken but the sudden desire to try and get the elves to understand before the entire company up and got itself killed drove him forward.

He grabbed Falcor's shoulder but it was a reflex driven on by something he couldn't pick apart. Had he wanted to ground himself or calm Falcor down? He took a step forward as the fleeting question left. "Please," he spoke out, his voice heavy with sincerity and concern. "We did not mean to trespass. If you would just guide us around your border, we will happily be on our way in search for a creature that may be doing more harm than good in this forest."

His words hung in the air and it was all he could do to suck in the shaky breath that filled his body. His gaze flickered over the elves but not a one of them moved.

A body fell from the trees above and landed beside him with a solid thud on sure feet. He jumped, taking a startled few steps back. He felt Falcor jump under his touch but seemed far more solid than Sam felt. The elf straightened and Sam watched as she gestured towards the east. He turned his head towards the direction but did not remove his gaze from her face. She turned and started walking.

The company fell into step behind her. Falcor's shoulder slipped from his touch and he focused back on those that had stopped them. He dipped his head in a brief gesture of thanks before following after the elf himself.

"So, you have a name?" drifted back towards him in Falcor's voice.

"Yevanith."

Sam found her gaze on him when he settled a few paces behind her left shoulder. Her footfall slowed and he soon found himself level with her. "You said you were not intending to trespass." Her gaze moved to Falcor before drifting to Opal and Jun not far behind. "That you are looking for the zaratan."

"We are," Sam assured her.

Falcor took over. "We had heard it was causing trouble in the surrounding area and decided to see if there was anything we could do to help."

"Have you heard of such a creature causing havoc?" Opal asked. Sam couldn't tell if the way the dwarf's words rolled were a show of mere caution or distrust.

"Yes. And I can take you to it."

"What?" Sam blurted at the same time Falcor nearly cheered, "Seriously?"

Yevanith gave Falcor a rather flat look. "It is not hard to find when one has been tracking it for some time."

"You specifically, or your people?" Sam clarified cautiously. The sharpness to her words made him hesitant, as if he could cause all their murders if he did not tread carefully here.

But when she looked at him, there was no such severity and it eased some of his hesitation. "A combination." Her gaze snapped forward. "I have a vendetta against the creature and the village watches to make sure what has happened before does not happen again."

"It attacked your village."

Her gaze - sharp, hunting - slid his way but he didn't back down. He met her gaze head on and waited. "It has destroyed many a village out in this forest. It is best if we keep it from doing more damage."

She put distance between them. Sam let her, catching Falcor's sleeve to keep the other ranger from stirring a pot that needed to be left alone.

"We need to know more," Falcor hissed.

"And we'll get the information we need," Sam countered just as hushed, "but right now we need to not piss off the only lead we have if you want to win your stupid bet."

"I do not know how much of this is still because of that bet," Opal offered gruffly, lowly. "With the way those warriors had reacted, I would not say that had been a normal elven greeting."

Jun swayed his way up to Opal's other side, asking, "So we take the thing out, one way or the other?"

Opal's gaze hardened. "There is no real knowledge around the zaratan - if that is what this is - that we were able to find. If it magic like we are assuming it is…"

"Then we'll need to take out the caster," Falcor finished. Sam met his gaze. "We have to ask her."

Sam nodded. "I agree, but it can wait a few minutes."

"Just not too long, Sam," Opal warned. "We need to know before we go jumping in."

That stole a chuckle out of Sam's chest. "When has the Rough and Tough Bunch not dived in without knowing? I thought that was how we ended up on that floating fortress."

Falcor pointed an accusing finger at him. "Hey, I did my best to be cordial. They shot first."

Sam threw his hands up, grinning despite the earnest gesture. "I wasn't there, remember? I was in the bowels of the ship when the first attack ripped through the balloon. And after watching you fail at setting up a bet we really didn't need to get into, I can't help but feel justified in my thoughts."

Falcor made a swing at him and he ducked laughing. Jun's roaring laughter filled the air just as well as Opal's low rumble of a chuckle.

Whether intentional or not, Falcor's actions had separated the majority of the group from Yevanith and had forced Sam closer. Amused, Sam fell back into step just a few paces behind the elf's left shoulder.

The group's chatter paces back rolled with the sounds of the forest creating a soothing atmosphere despite the severity of the situation the company was in.

"Are they always this boisterous in such serious situations?"

He looked up at Yevanith to find her giving the company a displeased look. "The overall situation may be serious but is this moment?" Her eyes were on him again. "Isn't it far healthier for them to pass the time loose and happy before they push themselves beyond their limits going up against a creature we know nothing about taking out?"

There was a moment where she just stared at him like he had spoken gibberish and maybe he had. Maybe they all were far too relaxed in the face of reality but there was a part of him determined to give them this moment of joy before they all faced Death again. They all knew that Death was waiting for someone going in. It was the risk they all took doing this.

"You all are strange," Yevanith finally stated, focusing back on the woods ahead.

Sam couldn't help the chuckle that belayed his words. "Never said we weren't."

There was brief burst of noise from the back of the group but it hadn't sounded worrisome. More like the troublemakers being true to their nature.

"You do not have to walk behind me, ranger. The path is not that narrow."

His gaze flickered towards her expecting her eyes on him again but she was focused on the route ahead. He hoped 'path' was being used loosely because he couldn't see whatever path she did. Still, he did make an effort to get closer to her side as she slowed a breath. "I don't mind following behind you, Yevanith."

This time her gaze did find him but there seemed to be amusement at the edge of the sharp look. "You are far more tolerable than the others seem to be."

Sam chuckled softly at that. "Falcor means well. The other ranger," he clarified. "The other two leaders of the group, Opal and Jun, have better people skills."

"You are not one of the leaders?" He shook his head in answer and she turned her gaze back to the trees ahead. "Strange. With how you had spoken, many thought you led them."

Sam beamed at that. "As flattering as that is, I'm not actually officially part of the company, though they would say otherwise, probably, at this point."

"What do you mean?"

He let his gaze wander over the surrounding trees. "I got swept up in their adventure because I didn't have much of a choice. A mix-up with some race and I ended up in the same cell they had been and it had only been because I had agreed to go with them to complete a favor for our captors was I able to walk away with my life and my freedom."

"Why didn't you walk away?"

That pulled a smile to his lips. "Where else would I have gone? I have no home to return to and my ending up in that cell had not been my choice. At least, not completely."

Silence stretched between them.

"Yevanith, why are you helping us?"

Yevanith's expression twisted but he couldn't decipher it. "I have my own reasons."

"Your vendetta."

It wasn't a question and she gave no answer.

"Family specifically?" he asked cautiously.

"My whole village."

Sam felt that weigh on his heart and the words were on his tongue before he could think otherwise. "I can't guarantee you'll come back alive from this but you are welcome to join us in this battle."

She scoffed but a glance her way revealed the smirk pulling at her lips. "As if you have any say on whether I do or don't."

He gave a huff of a laugh.

It wasn't till most of the hour had passed before the terrain abruptly changed. The group spilled out into a path somewhere around twenty feet wide full of felled trees. It was clear to see what direction the destruction was heading and it was even easier to find the footprints in among the wreckage.

Falcor hissed. "This thing is massive."

Sam gave a hum in agreement. There was no telling how powerful this creature was going to be and the implication by its size was daunting.

"Do we keep going?" the half-orc asked, wandering in the direction the creature had gone.

"We'll keep going till night falls," Opal stated. The dwarf looked at Falcor. "Unless you think it'll outstrip us in the night."

Falcor shook his head. "Whatever elemental of sorts I'm sensing, it's not moving very quickly. Even if we did rest through the night, I don't think it would be impossible to catch up."

Opal nodded. "Then let us keep moving."

Evening came faster than Sam had expected and the call to camp rang out from Opal. The group scattered a bit in a given area at the left edge of the trail. Sam hovered near Falcor as the other took note of the creature's place, watching as the half-orc went about starting a fire.

The look Yevanith sent her was certainly a dark one. Their confrontation was too muted for Sam to make out what had transpired but, by the looks of the half-orc grudgingly wandering over to the feline and the newest dwarf, Sam would bet it had been about not starting a fire in the woods.

"Seems the thing's settled for the night as well," Falcor commented, letting out a heavy sigh.

Sam focused back on him. "I'm assuming that's a good thing," he teased.

Falcor huffed a laugh. "I'm going to bed. You coming with?"

Sam shook his head. "I'll take first watch."

"Suit yourself."

Sam stayed where Falcor had left him taking in the others settling in to rest. At the other edge of the group, Opal had settled in but it looked as if the dwarf was going to be joining him on first watch. He dipped his head towards the other when the dwarf looked his way and Opal returned the gesture in acknowledgment.

He had seen her go up the tree but it was hard to pick out where she had gone in among the branches. He sat against its trunk anyways, settling in for the first few hours of watch.

It was probably a half hour later before he was certain those that were resting were sound asleep. The elf, though, he had picked out in among the branches finally. She was just as alert as he and Opal were and there was some comfort knowing she was on watch too.

"Are you truly avenging just your village?" he asked, letting the gentle wind carry his soft words to her. "Or did it take someone dear to you."

She moved in the tree before dropping down with a soft thump, settling into the squat she had landed in. Her expression was not kind. "You can be a nosy one."

Sam shrugged. "I just want to be prepared for you losing your composure because this is more than just avenging your village and the others it has taken. As personal as that can be, or justified, doing it because the creature took a loved one is far more dangerous."

The elf studied him; for what, he didn't know. Whether or not she had found what she had been looking for, though, seemed to be enough for her to plop down on the dirt beside him, leaning against the large tree.

"You said that you had no home to go back to. Why?"

Sam leaned his head back against the trunk searching for stars through the swaying branches. "It's a long story," he warned, though a smile pulled at his lips. "And a rather personal one. You sure you want to hear the woes of a lowly human stranger?"

"I have found that you humans are all too eager to spill your secrets," the elf drawled, waving a hand dismissively. He chuckled at that, agreeing with her. A comfortable silence settled between them for a moment before she broke it with, "We have nothing but time."

He hummed.

"I grew up in a small farming town. There was probably only 60 people within a good five miles of the center of town and the only exciting things that ever happened while I was growing up were the trades carts that would come through and the occasional adventurer. We weren't on any major routes so the fewer adventurers we saw we believed was for the better. Outside of that, the only other thing that ever stirred up any excitement was the Guard.

"They're trained how to be rangers but some will cross specialize in other areas of knowledge and others are encourage to. The Guard was stretched in among the towns like mine where we had no warriors or trained civilians that knew how to deal with the more fowl of adventurers or beasts that come knocking. Farmers know how to keep wolves and the like that will kill our livestock and eat our harvest, but when those things come in numbers we can no longer handle on our own, or become things too big for a simple farmer to take down, the Guard come to aid us."

A smile, warm and content, pulled at his lips. "For me, I enjoyed farm life. I hadn't had any real desire to join the Guard like my older brother did. He hated farm work and constantly talked about going on grand quests with the Guard to protect the town and others like ours. He talked about seeing the world and going where no one in our small little town had ever gone." He laughed. "He would practice sword fighting - with no training, mind you – against a bale of hay and a stick that would always end up breaking when he got too aggressive with it.

"So when the Guard came through recruiting, my brother's name was at the top of the list." Something heavy tainted the joy in his expression and he let his gaze fall from the leaves above. "I had entertained the idea of joining the Guard myself. Heck, every boy and a number of the girls under the age of 10 did at some point, but I had been the one more down to earth compared to my brother. I knew that I would be in charge of taking over the farm when our dad got too old to do the work anymore and I would have to take care of our sisters should anything happen to our parents or the farm itself. I was content with that."

The words stalled out. The weight of it all pressed against his chest and weighed down his tongue.

"But that wasn't what you got to do," Yevanith prompted, her words brushing up against that weight and easing a part of it.

"Yeah," he sighed. He shifted against the trunk, bringing a knee up. "My parents had signed me up as a sort of birthday gift. My mom had talked about all the great opportunities this would open up for me, how I would be able to do so much more, but I had fought them. I wanted to stay home, to take care of the farm. I didn’t understand why they had gone and done that."

His tongue fell still against the press of the memories that still stung years later despite how much he cherished them. "My dad finally pulled me aside, sat me down, and had a long talk with me. He told me how he didn't want me tied to the farm despite my desire to stay behind and take over. He spoke of how I could always come back once I was trained and ranked, how the town would welcome me with open arms and I could take over the farm then. My sisters were all willing to take over till I got back. Besides, he had said as a last attempt, it will only be a few years and before you know it, you'll be back here tilling the earth like you've done since the day you could walk.

"A part of me still wishes I had continued to fight them on the matter, that I had convinced them to let me stay."

"Why?" He glanced over even as her words did not stop there. "What happened?"

A sad smile tugged at his lips. "The town was attacked while I was in training." He turned his gaze back to the trampled forest before them. "We were maybe three months away from graduating the Guard's training academy when one of the higher ups came in and told us the news. They sent us after the relief efforts, whether to help or just to check in on our family, I can't remember."

He caught her moving out of the corner of his eye but whatever she was doing stopped as his words continued. "It was devastating coming back to a town I had grown up in, remembered seeing whole and healthy, be completely ravaged by some unknown entity leaving nothing but ash and smoke in its wake. Our dad had died in the initial attack and our littlest sister succumbed to the wounds she had sustained, but the others had lived. Mom and our two remaining sisters were scarred mentally and physically but they were alive and as healthy as they could be after all that. I was relieved - happy, even - but my brother grew angry, grew brash. I tried talking him down but he was having none of it. It was at the request of our mom that I stayed with him keeping an eye on him as he went head first seeking revenge.

"He ditched the Guard as soon as we had graduated. I'm not sure why he waited those few months. He never told me much of what was going on inside his head, simply giving me enough information to know he was planning something stupid. So I followed him to the ends of the earth honing my skills as a ranger, keeping him alive till I couldn't, and giving up my freedom so that others could walk away scot-free. My brother's death was probably a relief to him after the letter we had gotten a week prior." He glanced at her, finding her gaze honed in on him. It was rather unsettling.  "We had gotten word that our sisters and mom had died in a raid. My brother didn't let me read the note but he had told me roughly what it had said."

"Will you go looking for them at some point?" Yevanith inquired. "You're mom and sisters?"

He hummed. "Probably. If for nothing else than to know where they were buried. My brother died on the battlefield and I don't know if someone got to his body to bury him. I'll have to check when my time with this company ends."

Silence settled over them again. It dragged at him, coaxing him to sleep but he fought against it determined to make it through the shift before succumbing to sleep.

"Are you not going to try and get me to speak?"

He opened his eyes, unaware he had closed them. "No," he offered truthfully. "If you want to share, you will in due time. I may be willing to spill everything to a stranger but that doesn't mean you are." He shrugged, grinning in jest. "We humans be weird like that." The grin turned to a soft smile. "Just know I'll be keeping an eye on you. Just because I can't guarantee you making it through this alive doesn't mean I can't have your back should you need the help." He smiled again, tired. "And if we're being honest here, we'll all probably be needing your help by the end of this."

She watched him for a moment before looking back out on the forest. "You are a strange one."

"Eh, I like to think I'm being realistic." She gave him a flat look and he laughed. "Not so much?"

"Not with that. You talk as if we are friends."

"Aren't we?"

She frowned. "How could we be friends when I know your life history but not your name?"

He sat up and turned to face her, offering his hand. "Hi. I'm Sam Nish. Pleasure to meet you."

He wondered if the look that flickered across her face was surprise. She took his hand, her hold firm but hesitant. "Pleasant greetings, Sam Nish. I am Yevanith Guildenhoth."

He smiled again. "Not sure how much you know of human culture but you don't have to be formal with my name. Sam is fine." Distaste was clear in her expression and he quickly added, "I do not mind calling you whatever you wish to be called and I don't mind being called by my full name. It's your choice. You introduced yourself as Yevanith to the rest of the group but if you want me addressing you a different way, all you have to do is say so."

"Yevanith is enough." She settled back against the tree and he followed suit. He expected that to be the last of their conversation till he heard her speak again. "Why are you so friendly with me with no ulterior motives like other humans?"

He lowered his hands from behind his head so that he could see her. "What do you mean?"

"Most male of your race flaunt themselves in the hopes of carnal embrace."

He mouthed 'carnal embrace' to himself piecing together what it meant. Sure enough, he had indeed heard it before and wasn't overly surprised that had been many a man's ulterior motives. "Ah," he responded. "Carnal embrace has never really been a drive for me."

"Truly?"

He shrugged. "I was too busy either working on the farm, studying, or trying to keep my brother alive. After that," he gestured to the company, "I was watching their backs."

"No desire at all?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure it's a beautiful experience but, to me, it doesn't seem like something I want to do with just anyone. Now, that could be my parents' teachings. Highest know there was enough talk about it in the academy and a number enjoying it among each other but I just never felt any drive to pursue it."

"Odd indeed, for a human."

He chuckled. "Just so you know, I'm taking that as a compliment."

A smile pulled the corner of her lips upward and it wasn't hard to piece together why men – and probably a good number of women – would try and bed an elf. He could pick out the features that many claimed to be beauty and sexy but, for him, Yevanith wasn't the epitome of beauty as she was for others. To him, she was just another person struggling with demons only she could see and rather than bed her like others would, he wanted to help her with her demons, even if he was only able to help with the smallest, tiniest one. "As ill iterated as it was, it had been such." She looked at him. "You are far more elven than you are human in your mannerisms, Sam Nish. It is refreshing after having seen so many behave so differently."

He tipped his head forward in a sort of bow. "Glad to be of service."

There was the sound of people stirring behind him and he looked over to see Opal waking the next watch.

"Rest, Sam Nish. The next watch is starting and you are in need of rest."

"Will you be returning to the branches for the next watch or will you be resting as well?" he inquired as he shimmied into a more comfortable position against the tree.

"I have not decided if I will remain awake, however, I have found a good enough position to remain in for the rest of the night, if that is your concern."

He gave a huff of a laugh as he closed his eyes. "No, no concern. Just curious."

There was a stretch of silence that nearly put him to sleep but her words cut through the haze of rest. "You are certainly a strange one, Sam Nish."

He waited for more words to leave her tongue but it never did. There was shifting and a strange presence pressed against his arm. Not physically, just enough for him to wonder if she had shifted closer.

Something warm and soft draped over him and he heard her mutter, "Idiot human not using his own blanket. And you said you would be watching my back but instead I am making sure you will not freeze in the forest's night."

More shifting and this time her arm brushed against his. Her warmth seeped through the space between them and he realized without having to look that she was sharing the blanket. Said blanket smelt more of earth than his normally did and he was stunned that she had used her own blanket to cover them both.

"May Fate be kind to us tomorrow," she softly muttered. "Sleep well, Sam."

He jerked awake at the sound of someone shouting. Yevanith was already on her feet, blanket thrown from them both and bow in hand with an arrow notched. He rolled over and unsheathed both swords. As much as he wanted to draw his own bow, he didn't trust the streak of luck he was currently having with the damned thing.

Man, he really missed being a decent archer.

He frowned at the figure trying to piece together what he was seeing but he didn't get the chance to move closer. The initial figure that had drawn everyone's attention had company and had Yevanith not grabbed at the fabric on his back and pulled, he would have been a pin cushion.

"Thanks," he breathed, re-positioning himself at her side.

"Of course." She let loose several arrows. Two took out their targets with ease. Third hit its mark but it didn't seem to fell the target. "You cannot watch my back if you are dead."

"True," he agreed with a grin. He turned having sense the same thing she had. He used the momentum of the turn to bring both swords across in the same upwards sweep. The assailant fell to the ground. He kicked it for good measure.

It didn't get back up.

He rolled the wrist holding the short sword, gaze going across the felled part of the forest. "Friends of yours, Yevanith?"

An arrow shot past his right ear, taking down one of the incoming whatever they were. "Please tell me that was your strange human humor."

He laughed. "It was." One got close enough for him to take out. He wondered if Yevanith had let it. She was taking them out rather efficiently. "How full of a quiver do you have?"

"I will run out if they keep coming at this rate."

He pressed close to her and moved around her, taking out the closest one before taking out its buddy with the second sword. "Then you may want to just switch to a different weapon. These things aren't stopping."

He felt her press against his back briefly as he took another one down. Stupid thing had the audacity to jump at him. It seemed others thought that one had a brilliant idea because a lot of them started throwing themselves at him.

She pressed against his back again but this time did not move away. "We have to put distance between us and your friends."

He had ended up facing the path of felled forest through the brawl and he took a brief moment to glance towards the company, asking, "What? Why?"

And he saw why. For whatever reason, the little - he settled on gremlin things despite them not actually being gremlins - were swarming towards them, focused intently on them. The company was holding its own against the figure and what gremlin things were attacking them but it was clear they were only preventing the figure to come at them and the gremlin things were happy to have at whatever was closest.

"Opal!" he shouted, gaining the dwarf's attention. He noticed Jun coming up and covering the dwarf just as Yevanith provided him what cover she could. "We're going north! Head towards the zaratan! We'll catch up when we get the chance!"

He waited long enough for a brisk nod in acknowledgement before turning and following Yevanith towards the opposite treeline.

"Stop them!" the figure bellowed.

There was a brief surge of the gremlin things before them but they managed to cut through them and hit the trees before the figure broke through the company and chased after them.

He stowed his long sword but kept his short sword in hand as they ran. The gremlin things were quick but they were losing them just as quickly.

By the time he couldn't go anymore, there wasn't a gremlin thing in sight. He crashed to his knees, gasping for breath. The short sword hilt pressed into his palm as he put some of his weight on his hands in the dirt. He glanced over at Yevanith. A part of him was glad to see that he wasn't the only one affected by the sudden long distance sprint.

"We," he gasped, "we have to keep moving."

"As if I am the one in the dirt trying not to pass out," she retorted sharply. He watched as she swayed a bit when she stepped away from the tree she had been leaning against. Her gaze was far more steady, though, as it roamed over him, settling on his thigh. "Are you sure you can?"

He frowned. "Can what?" he asked, turning to look at what she was looking at.

He stared at the nasty cut on his thigh.

"Oh." He wondered briefly why he couldn't feel it. "Guess I took a hit."

"That is an understatement, Sam Nish." He shifted to sit and hissed as it felt like his entire leg suddenly felt like it was on fire. Her grip was painful but the lack of weight on the limb as she helped him sit was appreciated. "You know Cure Wounds, correct?"

"Y-yeah," he croaked. "Just, ah..." He swallowed. "Just give me a moment."

Her hands went to his thigh, one hand at either end of the wound. He hissed when her magic flared around his thigh and started working on healing the damage done. The magic ebbed till it ceased and he blinked his eyes open, feeling far more tired than he had before. The wound had stopped bleeding and looked like it was mostly healed but it was still raw.

Yevanith pulled back. "Use Cure Wounds on your other injuries."

"What of yourself?" he inquired even as he gathered the necessary magic to cast. He could see blood trickling down her neck from some wound hidden by her hair and there were a number of cuts he could see. She hadn't made it through the battle unscathed.

"I will be fine. I have enough magic still for my own Cure Wounds. Cast your own on yourself."

He did as she said and sighed in relief when the ache and some of the exhaustion faded. He opened his eyes again – he really needed to quit closing them in the first place – and saw that a number of her more superficial injuries had vanished. The rest looked a bit raw or a few weeks old but they were healed enough to hopefully not bother her. His own were in a similar state, though it looked like he had taken far heavier damage than she did if the twinges of mild pain were anything to go by.

He clambered to his feet uneasily. Despite her assist, his thigh was not willing to behave fully. It wasn't till he was straightening that he realized her hands had been hovering near him as she withdrew them. "Ready?" he verified.

She nodded as one of the gremlin things stumbled into sight. She took it out just as it spotted them with a well-aimed arrow but there was no knowing how far behind the others were. He grabbed up his short sword and followed her deeper into the forest.

They only made it a few minutes before a swarm of the gremlin things cut them off. Their chittering suddenly filled the trees and he hissed in frustration.

"It is impressive how slippery you can be," a voice curled in from behind them. He turned enough to keep the swarm in sight while looking at the approaching figure. He hoped the company hadn't sustained any deaths before the figure had slipped through their line of defense as he prepared to keep Yevanith out of the figure's grip. "I've hunted you from one end of the map to the other without being able to get my hands on you and yet I gained ground; every day, a little bit closer. Now, though..." The figure sighed in relief, removing a massive double-bladed battle ax from their back and twirling it. "Now you are within my grasp."

To his bewilderment, Yevanith stepped in between them. "You're not taking him."

"What?" he croaked, confused.

The figure laughed. "You think you can stop me, puny elf woman?" The figure pointed the battle ax at her. "I have cleaved plenty of your kind to know your tricks. You will not keep my prey from me. None have. Not that farm family, not the warriors he had traveled with."

It felt like someone had filled his veins with ice and fire all at once and he took a step forward, demanding, "What do you mean by 'that farm family'? You attacked Havestfield?"

The figure laughed. "Are you thick? Of course it was me. I was under the impression you knew you were being hunted. After all, that boy from that farm family seemed to know my movements and you stayed several steps out of reach since then."

He shook his head, snapping, "I'm nothing more than a farm boy myself. And that 'boy', as you so called him, was my brother. We grew up together."

The smile the spread across the figure's face sent alarms sounding through his brain as he felt the magic rise around them at the same time. "You really are thick, aren't you? Are you truly blind to what you are?"

"I'm human," he retorted with all the confidence in that knowledge he could muster.

The figure laughed. "No, you're not, boy." The figure's grin grew even more.

"You're an Everlast."
They went from one chaos to another as her magic pulled at them all, all at once. The battlefield was left behind only to be replaced by the receiving hall full of waiting medics and armed friendlies just in case. 

The swarm of medics and family surged forward, engulfing the injured, the living, and the dead before the magic had dissipated completely. Shouts for equipment, for loved ones, and wails of grief quickly filled the remaining space in the hall itself. The noise was deafening yet people were still getting the supplies they needed, still reuniting, and still pushing on despite it. 

The noise was nothing compared to the pain of magic coursing through her veins. It ate at her even as it had willingly done as she had asked, had happily followed her request. With no core magic to protect her anymore, the world magic left its mark as it did on all not born to handle its potency and she took the agony willingly if it meant those she was striving to protect could be saved. But the cost was growing and she fought to stay awake. 

Several different hands grabbed at her and she grabbed back, finding herself coming face to face with a pair of green eyes on a scarred face. She grabbed at their shirt, refocusing her efforts to the noise around her. 

“We cannot stay here!” she shouted. The silence that followed was deafening. She used it to carry her next orders. “We have been compromised. Follow the evac plans and relocate. This is not a drill." 

The noise level exploded but it was controlled this time. People – those designated to lead the given relocation efforts – were shouting commands they had all been trained to hear, understand, and follow. The bodies around her surged forward and she turned, clinging to the one with the green eyes on a scarred face as she stumbled towards the back exit. 

The group broke from the crowd. Strong arms wrapped around her from both sides and suddenly she was being supported by a pair she was so glad were still alive. Everything about them was the same; the unruly patch of red hair on top of their heads, the glint of determination in their blue eyes, the concern set into their identical frowns. But she could pick out the differences, just like the one with the green eyes on a scarred face could, how the Matt’s concern bled into his expression and how Andy was rigid with rage. 

They were both shaking as they led with her between them into the room. 

The group flowed in and only those that knew what was going to happen had followed to help. The twins left her side only to be replaced by more bodies. The one with the green eyes on a scarred face was back and was accompanied by a bushy brown maned young woman and a lanky redhead with a smudge across his nose. She gave the green eyes a brief glance before her gaze went to two men that approached. One was holding onto a severed right arm that looked like it still needed more tending to despite the lack of blood. 

The other met her gaze and his mask broke. 

"Rachel,” he choked, hands reaching for her. She reciprocated and found herself pressed against a chest she was going to miss. “You don’t have to do this. It changes nothing here." 

"But it at least mitigates half of his plans,” she countered. She felt his arms tighten around her. “Please, Tom. You have to let me try and save as much of this one as I can and at least this way I get to save other timelines too." 

"Tom.” It was the one with the green eyes on the scarred face. “She’s right. We can’t risk it. Not after that, not with what we know now." 

The man moved back, gripping her shoulders as if thinking it would be enough to keep her there. It wasn’t but it was a nice thought. The one missing most of his right arm grabbed at the other’s sleeve. "Tom,” he urged. “We don’t have time." 

The man before her hissed. "I know. I just…I know." 

The man missing most of his right arm walked around Tom as the other let her go. She buried her face into this man’s chest feeling just as protected with the man’s single arm around her. "Be careful for me, ok?" 

"I will,” she assured him. Her grip tightened and she was hit with a vicious defiance against going. “I’ll see you soon." 

She felt him huff a laugh before he released her. 

She gave him one last smile before turning to the trio. The lanky redhead handed her a bag. "Should have everything you need in it. It contains everything from money to food, clothes, and supplies. There’s a list of a few potential houses for you in there as well." 

She nodded, taking the deceptively small and weightless bag. She smiled at the young woman. "Most of the spells on it your doing?" 

She smiled big and bright. There were tears at the edge of it. "I had help." 

The redhead rubbed the back of his neck, grinning. The one with the green eyes on the scarred face stepped forward to draw her attention. "Ready?" 

"As ready as I can be.” She looked back at Tom and the one armed man. “You two keep an eye on them all for me, yeah?" 

They both nodded. 

The one with the green eyes on the scarred face stepped in front of her and she pressed into the soft touches against her cheeks, against either side of her head. She reached up and held onto those hands like the lifeline they felt like they were. She met that green gaze with her own. "You stay alive, ok?" 

A grin, large and bittersweet, broke across that scarred face. "I’ll do my best." 

Magic started rolling around them and the others backed off. She didn’t drop that green gaze as she called out, "Zephyr." 

The elf was at her side immediately, the snake draped like a scarf around the elf’s neck flicking its tongue as the head swiveled around to take in the magic dancing. "I’m here and ready to leave when you are, Missus,” the elf spoke calmly. 

The magic surged to life around them, bathing the room in brilliant lights and colors. She let out a shaky breath against the strange sensation of the foreign spell against her. She felt Zephyr’s hand grip at the back of her shirt. “I can’t do this,” she choked, finally giving voice to the fear scraping at her throat. 

“Yes you can,” the other assured her. “You can do anything." 

Those hands slipped free from her touch and she fought the urge to try and keep the one with those green eyes on a scarred face from stepping away. The other’s name caught in her throat in a panic as they stepped beyond the boundaries of the spell, arms wide open. "You can do this, Ray!” they called to her, grinning big and confidently. “I know you can.” Those green eyes flickered to those surrounding the spell. “We all do." 

Another surge of magic and each person standing at the rim of the spell’s border became a fountain of magic of a different color. Some complimented those that were most important to them, whether it was a similar color or contrasting. The one with the green eyes on the scarred face had a magic that didn’t seem to want to pick one color and curled around them in a way that was far calmer yet far more powerful than anyone standing near them. A glance back to Tom and the man with one arm to find Tom’s rich green magic was behaving the same way. The man with the one arm’s magic was a blue of the same richness behaving just as controlled but far less powerful. 

All around was an assortment of colors and for the brief moment, each unique magic was isolated. Then a tendril slow, calm, and controlled stretched out towards the well of magic she was standing in. 

When it touched, it was like a domino effect. The well of magic spider webbed connections to each individual remaining at the same time and every unique color swirled together before blending into a brilliant white. 

Shouts of good will edged her hearing range as the magic overtook her vision. 

Their intentions surged through their magic anyway. 

There was no way to describe what it was like in the middle of the spell nor how she knew how to guide it along. It had been a haphazardly thrown together spell that they knew would work but not so much how. But just like any magic she had done since her magical core could no longer sustain magic, it burned. 

Unfortunately, this time it wasn’t just internal burns. 

"Missus!” Zephyr cried out as she collapsed with a cry of pain, wrapping around the burned limb and the burns she could feel under her clothing. For a brief moment at the beginning of the pain, she was grateful the magic had left her clothing untouched. Zephyr’s hands were gentle. “Missus, I need to take us to someplace safe." 

"The bag,” she started but was cut off by the pain. Even just tracking Zephyr’s words was difficult. It seemed to be enough because after a stretch of her just being in pain, there was the familiar sensation of Zephyr taking them elsewhere and she opened an eye to find the stretch of an empty entrance hall. “Where…" 

"Certainly you recognize it?” Zephyr countered gently. 

And she did after a moment. She hissed in displeasure. “I told them not anywhere we were occupying or had been occupied." 

"The grounds and the buildings have not been touched for a good decade at minimum, Missus. There’s a lot of work to do but it is a good place to settle." 

She shook her head. The motion made the world spin and she fought against the urge to pass out, fighting to keep her thoughts long enough to finish giving the last bit of directions she needed to. It wasn’t like Zephyr needed them but they made her feel better. "But we cannot sustain it nor have people over. For now, it’ll work, but we move on when I’m well enough. Zephyr, if you are willing, I’m going to rely on you to check out the other locations and pick." 

The elf didn’t verbally respond. She hadn’t expected one as the pain swallowed her again. 

When she came to, she felt gratitude to Zephyr’s initial choice. As much as she would love to be in the familiar home, they could not take it over for another twenty some odd years at least. 

She pushed herself upright and looked around. The room was clean and held things that were reminiscent of the room she had occupied in her yesterdays and the world’s tomorrows. The small differences and few items lacking in the room were the only signs that she wasn’t in her own time anymore. 

Magic brushed against her arm and she looked over to Zephyr. "How do you feel, Missus?" 

"Tired.” She let Zephyr adjust the pillows behind her and help her settle against them. “No pain, though, so that’s good.” A different kind of magic pressed against her and she closed her eyes. “Zephyr, have you tried speaking to Magic?" 

"No, Missus. I have had no need to." 

"Ok.” She took a breath. “Can I have a moment, then?" 

"Of course, Missus. Call when you need anything." 

"Thank you, Zephyr." 

She waited till long after the elf’s magic had dissipated from the air before she reached out her senses. Magic reacted immediately and it seared against her skin in retaliation. She sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t fight the touch. 

"Magic,” she breathed. It pressed against her, pressed against her chest and forced her deeper into the pillows; it was like fire against her chest, in her chest. “Please,” she half begged. “I know we don’t belong here and I know you don’t want us here but you have to let us stay. We’re trying to prevent numerous deaths and protect you." 

The fury of Magic’s touch retreated, leaving the impression of wary confusion. She raised a hand as if to touch a solid form but there was nothing physically there for her hand to press against. Still, the weight of Magic against her palm did increase from the gesture. "In too many years to be exact, an evil will arise like none the world had seen before. It will be intent on ridding the world of all living life and is planning on nullifying Magic to do it.” Magic’s touch still burned as it shifted against her but there wasn’t the fury that had seared her before. It was almost like Magic wasn’t sure if it should believe her or not. “Please, Magic. Let me try and save you and everyone that I can from the great evil that is coming.” She shuddered against Magic’s shifting, her hand falling back to the sheets. Her eyes were closed but her palm felt raw. She wondered if it was bleeding. “Please." 

It took what felt like eternity for her to receive a response from Magic. When she did get it, it was through the press of healing magic. No matter how gentle Magic was with the healing magic, the touch still burned and very little was healed. Still, she smiled weakly. "Thank you, Magic." 

She woke up to the smell of warm summer air. The curtains on the windows were open just as wide as the windows themselves. The breeze that drifted through held the sounds of the surrounding fauna. She felt far too heavy to look around at the sound of footfall but Zephyr was at the edge of the bed before she decided whether she needed to press through the exhaustion or not. 

"Welcome back, Missus,” Zephyr greeted with a soft smile. 

“How long was I out?" 

Zephyr arched an eyebrow. "Collectively? Five days. Since you spoke with Magic? Only two." 

"And the results from the other locations?" 

"There are two properties that I believe fit what you had initially wanted. Both are within Muggle areas." 

"Good.” She pushed herself upright, accepting Zephyr’s aid to sit back against the pillows. “Did you find out when we are?" 

"The Tom for which you are looking for has not been born yet. His due date is not for another five months." 

Surprise rushed through her. "We made it back that far?" 

"It would seem so." 

She sank into the pillows, letting out a sigh. "Then we have time.” She sat up a bit straighter. “Zephyr, eight years from now, I want to go pick up Tom. Will you help me to remember?" 

"Of course, Missus." 

"Good. Thank you.” She sank back into the pillows as a thoughtful expression crossed her face. “I hope it’s enough time before he has to attend Durvins." 

Zephyr offered her an amused smile. "I am quite confident it will be plenty of time, Missus. You can be quite potent that, any longer and he may still become the person you are working to keep him from becoming." 

She chuckled weakly. "I’ll have to trust your word on that.” She sighed, expression heavy. "Then the current challenge is IPPA.“ She leaned her head back, closing her eyes. "I don’t know if I can manage it." 

"You will,” Zephyr assured her. “And if not, there are plenty of other things you can do instead." 

She wasn’t able to take the comfort from those words. 

The summer heat was missing as the sun started edging over the horizon. The world – most of which had slept through the night – started to slowly wake but in among the human habitants, there were those already up and moving. 

From one instance to the next, a pair of adults appeared walking down the sidewalk of some quiet street. There was no one to see them appear and no one to notice their passing till they stepped out onto a busier street an hour later. 

The taller of the two pointed down the street, guiding the shorter's attention to their destination. Barely feeling the hour walk, the pair continued on with sights set on one of the older buildings down a side street a block up. 

Whoal's Orphanage loomed over them in a sort of depressing way and the pair came to a stop just before the door. 



"Missus, he’s too young to know what this means…” the taller offered as if it would sooth any hesitation.

Rachel’s expression twisted, not believing the taller. “I just hope we’re not too late." 

With a steady hand, she knocked on the door. 

There was a stretch of silence that was expected. She had timed their departure and walk to place them there near the tail end of breakfast at the very edge of the orphanage’s open hours. 

A severe woman opened the door and glared at them. "Can I help you?” she asked politely enough. 

“Good morning,” she replied cordially. “We were wondering if the orphanage was open for adoptions." 

The severe woman arched an eyebrow. "The children are still at breakfast. If you came back in an hour-" 

"I don’t mind them being occupied,” she quickly cut in. “We want to see them from a distance first before overwhelming ourselves with meeting every child." 

The severe woman scoffed. "If you so wish." 

She stepped back and gestured inward. She offered the woman a soft smile and stepped in, Zephyr stepping in behind her. The elf’s glamour was holding splendidly as the woman closed the door without batting an eye in the elf’s direction, informing them, "I will walk you to the meal hall. If you would please follow me?" 

Zephyr fell into step and for anyone else, it would look like she had followed as well. But those with the right perception could see she stayed standing in the entrance watching the severe woman and Zephyr wander deeper into the orphanage. It wasn’t till they slipped around a corner did she moved. 

Reaching into the collar of her coat, Rachel pulled out a snake whose tongue flicked about taking in the new area. 

"Find Tom,” she guided gently. The snake flicked its tongue at her before darting down a hallway as soon as their scales touched the floor. 

She straightened with a sigh before slowly following after the snake. The hallway she entered was surprisingly populated by children despite the severe woman’s comment about the children being at breakfast. The children paid her no attention and she easily passed after the equally ignored snake. 

“Found you.” 

It was soft but she was far too familiar with it to have missed it. A soft smile graced her lips as she approached the open door the little voice had come from. 

“Found me?” She paused just before the door, her expression twisting against the wave of emotions. The new voice was far too young to be of any real balm against the loss she still felt but it still held familiarity in it. “Why were you looking for me?” 

“Because the Mastdrem asked to find you.” 

“Mastdrem?” 

She stepped into the doorway, gaining both pairs of eyes. The snake bobbed its head in a nod towards her, informing the boy sitting on the bed, “Mastdrem.” 

The brown eyes that bore into her were not tinged red and she felt both parts sorrow and joy at it. Masking the turmoil in her heart, she offered the boy a soft smile. 

The boy’s face – still young, still learning – twisted for the briefest of moments into distaste and faint fear before becoming expressionless. “Who’re you?" 

"My name is Rachel,” she answered. “And yourself?" 

The boy turned his gaze back to the snake, doing a very good job of scoffing at her. "Why should I tell a stranger my name?" 

"Because I sent Neranaga looking for a boy named Tom who smells of familiar magic." 

Those brown eyes snapped to her again as she calmly watched him. That fear she had briefly glimpsed was now at the forefront of the boy’s expression, though he was trying to mask it with a sort of fury fueled indignation. "What are you talking about, lady?" 

Rachel gestured towards the boy’s bed on which the boy himself was perched. "May I join you first?" 

He didn’t trust her. Even at such a young age, his magic rolled up against her with his need to shove her away. But nothing came of the suppressed urge and he shifted over, though not by much. It was his way of retaining control in the situation, in a sense. 

She closed the door and asked Magic to very visibly sound proof the room. Magic bubbled visibly, collecting against the door and walls till not even the boards creaking beneath her feet could be heard. 

"What did you do?" 

Horror was written on Tom’s face, though there was a flicker of awestruck curiosity so faint, she wasn’t sure if it even existed. She didn’t move from the door. Instead, she pressed back against it, willing the flare of pain to ease some. 

She had gotten used to Magic’s constant burning but sometimes it got beyond even her limits. 

"I asked Magic to sound proof the room." 

"Why?" 

It was sharp, it was demanding, and it reminded her too much of the men and women she had left behind. She closed her eyes against the surge of sorrow, answering plainly, "The only other magic user in the building is my companion and it is against several laws in every magical society to let non-magics know of the existence of Magic in any form." 

"Magic isn’t real?" 

She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. Disbelief was quickly replacing the horror on his face. The curiosity was still there and growing. 

"Isn’t it?” She nodded towards Neranaga. “You know Serpent Speech, though I don’t know if you are aware of how it sounds to non-speakers quite yet." 

"Hissing,” the boy cut in like her comment had offended him. 

She smiled but it didn’t stay. “I’m impressed. I have only met two that were born with the ability to speak Serpent Speech and while the older never told me if he was aware there was a different for non-speakers, the younger said he hadn’t realized it sounded different to others till he was twelve. He said it sounded like English to him." 

"It does,” the boy grumbled. 

She smiled, letting the boy have those words to himself. “So can you really say Magic doesn’t exist?" 

"How do I know you’re telling the truth? How do I know you’re not lying and pulling a prank?” he challenged. 

“How would you like me to prove it then?” she countered willingly, opening her arms to him. 

The boy’s gaze wandered from her as he contemplated his options. She watched as those brown eyes followed a stream of magic as it ebbed and flowed around the walls, curling in areas and spreading out, never stagnant like many presumed it did. Then, as if inspired, he snapped his gaze to her and decreed, “If you can find what is not mine, I’ll believe you." 

Surprise flashed through her and she was certain it showed on her face. She wondered if he knew it was because she hadn’t been expecting such a simple challenge or if he saw it as a show of overwhelm for a task he believed difficult. "In this room alone?” she clarified, already feeling Magic itching to do as requested. 

He shook his head. “But you can’t just make them magically appear. You have to physically get them and then take me to the others." 

Content enough with his rules, she crossed to the wardrobe to Magic’s disappointment. She soothed it, promising that it can take part in a moment. 

Opening the doors, she reached in between the clothes and pulled out a shoe box. With it still in hand, she reached with her other hand up into the eaves of the piece and pulled down a hidden trinket that Magic assured her did not belong to him. She set it down on the bed with the shoebox before offering her hand to the wide-eyed boy. That distrust was on his face again but it masked his fear of her. Or was it the fear of her seemingly lack of limits? "Shall we?” she asked, though it was rather rhetorical. With a dazed look, the boy took her hand. 

The world around them melted away far slower than she would have normally let it. She knew, though, that the boy wanted to see what Magic did and the best way to do that - for the traveling at least - was to slow the process down a margin. 

The cave was damp but warm, oddly enough. She could smell the sea on the cold wind that curled in from the entrance. Magic illuminated the space by its own biding, creating streams of light as it made itself visible to them both. The boy’s expression was still dazed as she led him deeper into the cave till they reached the back wall. 

There, on a naturally occurring shelf, sat a stuffed rabbit, a book, and a wooden train. “These are the last of them,” she offered, looking down at him. 

He had yet to let go of her hand. 

“How did you find them?" 

"I asked Magic to help." 

At her words, the stream of Magic on the stream of magic on the ceiling dropped down coiling around the smaller first before the both of them. She caught sight of the boy reaching out and passing his fingers through the stream. She watched it parted like water only to gather again behind his fingers undisturbed by his touch. 

The shudder that went through him traveled up into her hand. 

"Could I make it do things too?" 

Magic recoiled at the tone of his question, vanishing and leaving them in absolute darkness. His body bumped against hers as his grip turned painful. She placed their joined hands on his shoulder as she knelt. While Magic had left them blind, she could still see it playing off of Tom’s form and she touched his other arm with her free hand. "You can’t force Magic to do anything. In fact, if you fight it and force it, the consequences could be worse than death." 

She knew he was sneering at her. It was only natural for him to do so, what with her knowing who he was from years yet to come. But unlike his future self, Tom’s voice quaked in fear. "What’s worse than death?" 

"Many things,” she answered cryptically. “For some, it’s the loss of Magic completely." 

A breath. "That can happen?” he whispered softly. 

“Absolutely.” She stood up, still holding onto his hand. “And for many who have lived with Magic’s touch and the weight of their own magic, it is worse than any death could have been. At least with Death, there’s no more living, but without magic, one can still live and it can be a hard life after so much ease." 

The cave melted away slowly at her request. She didn’t want to blind Tom with the abrupt scene change. When Tom’s room was solid around them, she watched his gaze go to the bed as his hand slipped from hers. The stuffed rabbit, the book, and the wooden train were resting with the shoebox and the other item she had grabbed from his closet. Neranaga was snoozing on the shoebox in the stream of sunlight from the window, not even waking for the arrival of new items. 

"Why are you here, lady?” Tom asked, his voice heavy in a way she hadn’t thought she would ever hear till the boy was years older. 

“I want to bring you into my family." 

His eyes made their way up to her and she saw the distrust was back. "Why?" 

She knelt beside him. "Because I made a promise to someone dear to me to come and get you when I had a place ready for you.” That only made the distrust worse and she offered him a soft smile. “How about this, you come home with me and if you find yourself wanting to keep the family I’m offering when you become legal and are able to move out, I’ll answer every question that you have about my reason for picking you specifically. What do you say?" 

He studied her. She knew she wasn’t winning any favors but it was clear she had peaked his interest enough for him to agree. 

"When I come of age, you’ll answer everything?" 

She nodded, smiling. "You can even write them down as the years go by. I’ll buy you a journal or a pocket book you can keep with you at all times, if you would like." 

His eyes lit up at that. "That’s all mine?" 

She nodded. "That you can do whatever you want with.” She tapped his nose. “Just no starting fires in the house if you can manage it. I’d rather mitigate the amount of damage control I’ll have to deal with over the next handful of years." 

He swatted at her hand, barking at her for her insolence, but the happy gleam in his eyes told her she had the visit had been a surprising success. Her gaze wandered to the items on the bed as Tom turned to scoop up Neranaga, going on about something in Serpent Speech. 

Once more she hoped she hadn’t made the mistake of waiting so long to come and get him. 

Only time would tell.
June 2018
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September 2018
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  • Writings
    • Assorted Prompt Writings
      • Howling at the Moon
      • Sunrise
      • Dancing in the Rain
      • Springtime Joy
      • A Force to be Reckoned With
      • Bittersweet
      • Something begins, Something ends
      • Playing with Fire
      • Outside the Window
      • Two Sides of the Same Coin
      • Forced Silence
      • Crossed Paths
      • Fairy Tale Ending
      • Birthday Wish
    • Altruistic Endeavors - Inktober 2020
      • Day 1: Fish
      • Day 2: Wisp
      • Day 3: Bulky
      • Day 4: Radio
      • Day 5: Blade
      • Day 6: Rodent
      • Day 7: Fancy
      • Day 8: Teeth
      • Day 9: Throw
      • Day 10: Hope
      • Day 11: Disgusting
      • Day 12: Slippery
      • Day 13: Dune
      • Day 14: Armor
      • Day 15: Outpost
      • Day 16: Rocket
      • Day 17: Storm
      • Day 18: Trap
      • Day 19: Dizzy
      • Day 20: Coral
      • Day 21: Sleep
      • Day 22: Chef
      • Day 23: Rip
      • Day 24: Dig
      • Day 25: Buddy
      • Day 26: Hide
      • Day 27: Music
      • Day 28: Float
      • Day 29: Shoes
      • Day 30: Ominous
      • Day 31: Crawl
    • Monthly Writings
      • March 2020
      • February 2020
      • September 2019
      • August 2019
      • July 2019
      • September 2018
      • July 2018
      • June 2018
      • May 2018
      • March 2018
      • February 2018
      • January 2018
      • December 2017
      • November 2017
      • October 2017
      • September 2017
      • August 2017
      • July 2017
      • June 2017
      • May 2017
      • April 2017
      • March 2017
      • February 2017
      • January 2017
      • December 2016
      • November 2016
      • October 2016
    • This is Halloween 2018
      • Single Piece Events
      • Drawing Challenge
      • Writing Marathon
    • Caffeine Challenge #24-28
      • Canis Major and the Swallow - Part 1
      • Canis Major and the Swallow - Part 2
      • Canis Major and the Swallow - Part 3
      • Canis Major and the Swallow - Part 4
      • Canis Major and the Swallow - Part 5
    • RPApril Extravaganza 2019
      • Bring Me a Poem!
      • Weekly Short Story
      • Five Words, One Story
      • Writing Marathon
    • RPApril Extravaganza 2018
      • Single Piece Events
      • The Triple Threat
      • Five Words, One Story
      • Writing Marathon
    • RPApril Extravaganza 2017
      • Single Piece Events
      • The Triple Threat
      • The Decathlon
      • Five Words, One Story
      • Writing Marathon
  • Illustrations
    • Inktober 2019
    • Inktober 2018
    • Inktober 2017
    • Inktober 2016
    • This is Halloween 2018 - Drawing Challenge
    • Animations and Speedpaints
    • Exploring the Process
  • Photography
  • Business Artistry
  • College Portfolio
    • Directing Projects and Assistant Directing
    • Projection Illustrations
    • Video Art
    • 3D Construction - Fall 2015
    • Costume Design - Cabaret
    • Computer Rendered Proposals
    • Theatre Bachelor's and Studio Art Minor Miscellaneous
    • Multimedia Graphic Design Associate's Miscellaneous
  • Connect