#fiorre

Over the past month or so I have been making Gen 3 style maps for every mainline Pokemon region. I have also made it for the side games that can trade with mainline games, thus being canon (in my book. I plan on creating larger maps for the various poke-continents that have formed (thus far I am making poke-Japan, poke-Europe, and poke-North America). Below are the various regions and these are free to use by anyone, just credit me somewhere if you do!

Lights were flickering. I didn’t know this place, but it felt safe, even if I couldn’t see well. The ground was cold beneath me, and the air was wet; I was standing on grass. There were bells ringing, gentle little chimes on the wind, and I was entranced by them. I wanted to see them, to find where they were coming from. I was drawn to them like a moth to a light, even if I didn’t know why.

The lights grew brighter, until I was bathed in a red light so luminous I couldn’t see beyond it, but there were still those ringing chimes, pulling me forward. There was a silhouette a few yards away, I couldn’t tell clearly of what. But I was reaching towards it, and it was reaching towards me. Just a little farther, I was almost there. The chimes were growing louder, only a few more inches before our fingers touched –

I woke up. I wasn’t really sure for a moment what day it was or even where I was, but even through my disorientation I knew that I had just been dreaming, even though it felt incredibly real. Blinking my eyes open, I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom for a few moments as I worked out what was happening. My clock told me it was five in the morning. That’s right, yesterday was when my gym got blown up, on my very first day of high school. Talk about rude.

Sitting up, I tried to shake off the weird feeling the dream had left me with. The figure in the red light had felt so safe and inviting, yet the light itself felt dangerous. Why did dreams have to be so random? It’s like you can’t close your eyes without seeing some freak surreal reality your brain decided to whip up for you.

Going downstairs, I saw, to my total surprise, my mom sitting at the table and talking to Mr. Blackeagle, sharing some coffee with him. Mr. Blackeagle never came over this early, more often then not he barely wakes up in time to open his shop at seven. Even stranger was that they were whispering to each other all hush-hush style. They never spoke hush-hush style.

“Mom? Mr. Blackeagle?” I asked, too tired to formulate a more specific question. They both looked surprised at my presence.

“Oh, Liora! What are you doing up so early?” my mom asked.

“It’s…not much earlier then I usually get up. Why are you whispering in your own house, and what is he doing here so early?” I asked back, suddenly very suspicious. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be suspecting, but something wasn’t right here.

“I just came over to drop your gift off early, and got talking with your mother. We were only whispering so as to not wake you.” Mr. Blackeagle said. I wasn’t totally surprised he was the one to answer; he was much better at lying then my mom was. I mean, what he said was completely plausible, and quite likely the truth, but those still had a tendency of treating me like I’m younger than I am and not telling me everything important.

“Alright, then, since I’m up can I have what you brought me?” I asked, half to test his explanation and half because I was really, really excited to see what Mr. Blackeagle got me.

“Of course, Liora.” He said with a smile, pulling out a medium sized package from his travel bag. He handed it over to me, and excitement quickly over rode any suspicion I had still been feeling. I tore open the package to see an old, musty book, a bag of incense, and a set of runes. Mr. Blackeagle pretty much gave two types of gifts: the scholarly kind, like this gift package, and the shiny, exciting kind like when he got me a new rapier for my fencing class. I loved both, albeit in different ways, but I was curious as to why he decided I needed a giant book to read when I was already taking a ton of classes.

“Sweet! Thanks, Mr. Blackeagle! But, um, what does it mean?” I asked. The book was apparently called A Chronology of Legends, so I guessed it was about mythology or something.

“I just think the book might come in handy someday, or at least it will be entertaining for you. There are some really wild tales in there, and the runes go with it. As for the incense, that kind is said to bring protection and prosperity in relationships.” He said, winking at me.

“Wait, did I just get told in code to get a boyfriend? Cause I’m not going there, Mr. Blackeagle, sorry to disappoint.” I said. Mr. Blackeagle just laughed.

“All I said was ‘relationships’, you’re the one that jumped straight to ‘boyfriend’. But no, it’s supposed to aid in all kinds of relationships.” He said, looking genuinely amused.

“Yeah, well, I could tell you were thinking it regardless of what you say. Either way, I appreciate the gift! I’ll go light one right now!” I said, running off to do so. I wasn’t actually sure if school was going to be in session today, what with the gym being a giant crater now, but it couldn’t hurt to get ready anyways. If nothing else, I was planning on going to Reka’s house after I finished manning the shop.

Later that day, more bad news came; another high school nearby had been attacked, and by the same lady as the first one. I found out while I was playing video games with Reka. Rueben came running in holding a newspaper.

“Re, Liora, I just read Citrus High School was broken into the same way Maple High was. I thought you guys ought to know; do you want me to walk home with you Liora?” he said. Rueben was always really thoughtful like that.

“I’d probably be fine on my own, but if you want to come you can.” I said. I took the newspaper he was holding and looked through it; there were even more injuries this time around, but no reported deaths yet.

“What do you think that crazy lady is after?” Reka asked.

“Well whatever it is she hasn’t found it. No deaths, nothing stolen, but a lot of chaos. Well, I guess chaos itself could be her goal, but then she’d be targeting more than one kind of place wouldn’t she?” I answered, doing the stretches assigned by my gymnastics teacher as we spoke.

“How should I know? Anyway, I hope she’s caught soon. It would be terrible to have to miss so many classes because of this.” Reka said.

“Yeah, I think if I run into her again I’ll punch her. Before she can use the glowy gun, that is. Do you think I should have mentioned the gun was glowing when I talked to the police?” I asked nonchalantly.

“We probably just imagined it, so I don’t think it did any harm not mentioning it. And don’t even think about taking on someone like that by yourself, it’s crazy and you’ll get killed!” Reka insisted; she had a tendency of being a worry-wart, though in this case I couldn’t totally blame her.

“Well someone’s got to something and the police apparently suck at their job. Plus, I still have some feelings about that glowy gun. I don’t think we imagined it.” I said stubbornly.

“It looked real to me too, but I don’t know of any guns that can make those kinds of lights, so unless it’s a totally new kind of gun, we had to have imagined it.” Reka said.

“Eh, I’m sure there could be some other explanation.” I said, even though I wasn’t sure what that other explanation could be. Reka just shook her head and sighed, which by now I knew was code for ‘You are positively hopeless, and I am so done with your stubborn bullheadedness’. I got that look a lot, come to think of it.

The next night I had the same dream. There were always those bells ringing, and the sound of wind blowing, and always I woke up just before I could reach the faceless figure in the red light. And the day after that another school was attacked, only this time a teacher actually died.

“Ugh, what are the police even doing!? I could’ve caught her by now if I was on the force.” I said angrily. Reka was too upset by the news to even argue with me. After that, for the next few days, there grew a pattern. Every night I’d have that stupid dream, and everyday there’d be more reports of schools being attacked. One morning I actually woke up yelling, ‘JUST GET OVER HERE, THERE’S LITERALLY ONLY AN INCH BETWEEN US YOU WORTHLESS FIGURE!!!’ after again not being able to connect with the shadow in my dream, which required a lot of explaining to my mom afterwards. She thought the recurring dreams were my way of coping with the fear and confusion of the attacks happening around the city. Which, again, was plausible, but somehow that didn’t seem right. While there was a feeling of danger in my dream, there was also a lot of other feelings that didn’t add up. There was also joy, loneliness, excitement, and a sort of… protective feeling? I felt like I had to protect something, whether it was the shadow figure or something else I wasn’t sure.

I was also haunted by the attacker’s face; I’d only seen it once, but it wasn’t something I could easily forget. I wasn’t allowed to leave home by myself anymore, I was always accompanied by my mother or Reka and Rueben. But one morning, while I was biking with Reka to Mr. Blackeagle’s place, I saw an old side road that I used to ride down when I was younger.

“Hey, Reka, I’m going to take that road over there. I used to go there all the time, remember? I would always dare you to go into that ‘haunted’ oak grove.” I said. “Oh yeah, that place! But that’s a bit out of the way, are you sure we should go?” she asked.

“I’ll go by myself – only for a few minutes, so don’t worry! Just ride ahead and tell Mr. Blackeagle I’ll be late.” I said. I could see the uncertainty burning in her eyes.

“I don’t know…I have to go back home soon, are you sure it’ll be safe? Don’t forget about the crazy lady on the loose.” She said.

“The crazy lady who specifically and exclusively attacks schools, not civilians out on the street. And like I said, it’ll only be a few minutes.” I insisted.

“…Alright. But really hurry on to Mr. Blackeagle’s place, okay?” she said nervously.

“I will, I will! See you later, Reka.” I said, swerving down the side road and leaving my friend behind. This place was sweetly nostalgic. Me and Reka played here all the time as kids, riding our bikes, making up stories about the haunted oak grove and all the people who supposedly once lived there. It was great fun, and I quickly fell into a very relaxed mental state as I rode along.

As I was riding, the wind began to blow, and suddenly I could hear them – the wind chimes from my dream. I felt an indescribable need to follow the sound, a need that went beyond the frustrated curiosity that filled me whenever I usually though back on my dream. The ringing lead me to the old oak grove – the overgrown, abandoned lot of trees that I had insisted was haunted as child. Getting off of my bike, I climbed through the thick weeds and tall grass in a trance; I needed to find those wind chimes. Weaving clumsily around the giant trees, I felt the urge to move forward growing stronger.

Finally, I came to a clearing. In the center of the unusually short grass there was a large shrine – or perhaps a tiny temple, I didn’t actually know which. The sun filtered through the orange leaves of the surrounding trees, giving the shrine a sort of gentle glow around it. It looked incredibly old, with its stone pillars and wooden lining. At each corner of the roof, there was a set of ornate, golden wind chimes ringing in the breeze. I had to stand in awe of the lovely sight in front of me before I was to continue moving forward. I needed to know why the bells had brought me here. There was something in that shrine I needed to find, I wasn’t going to rest until I knew what it was.

But I was only able to take a single step before a sudden whirlwind of sounds and emotions came crashing into my head. Falling to my knees, I tried to make sense out of the noise, the jumbled thoughts pouring into my mind – where was all this even coming from!? – but what was most clear to me was the emotions behind the onslaught: desperate loneliness, frustration, and grief. I wanted it to end, I needed it to end, my head was splitting with everything being jammed into it.

“SHUT UP!!!” I finally screamed, unable to take anymore of the wails, chatter, and guilt that was infiltrating my mind. To my genuine surprise, the noise and pain both lessened significantly, leaving me only able to hear a quite murmuring and sense one, distinct thought: please. Whatever essence had just stormed into my brain was practically begging me to do…something. Part of me was frightened, the rational part of my brain most likely, and it was also begging me to run away, escape while it was still possible. But that part of my mind seemed so distant, so trivial compared to the pull of the chimes and overpowering feeling of desperation coming from that essence.

So I continued walking forward, and slid the door to the shrine open. The shrine consisted of a single square-shaped room, big enough so that it wasn’t insufferably claustrophobic, but small enough that only two to three people could comfortably sit in it somewhat far apart. The floor was made of hard wood, but there was a mat running down the center that lead to a decorated alter. The left wall had a large painting of the sun setting, while the right wall had a painting of the sun rising.

Once I was close enough to the altar, I saw it had a sword wrapped in red cloth resting upon it. I could feel the essence more strongly now then ever, even though there wasn’t anyone else in the room. Remembering that the essence had responded to my verbal cry earlier, I decided to try again to talk to it.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I said, not entirely sure what to expect.

‘H-hello…? I…I am…here…’ I heard the words in my mind, I didn’t understand how, but the room was definitely still silent. The thought sounded unsure, but I could feel the unrestrained excitement and disbelief coming from it.

“Where are you? What’s your name, and why did you bring me here?” I asked. I wasn’t sure when I decided it was the essence specifically that brought me here, but it seemed the most likely explanation to me.

‘You…you can hear me? You can really hear me? You’re talking to me, someone’s actually talking to me! Oh, please tell me about yourself! Your name, your age, what is your life like, anything you want! I’ll listen to anything! Ah, you asked questions, what were they? Oh, my name! What, what was my name? I haven’t needed it, what was it…Ah! I remember, I remember it! I was called Fiorre. What are you called?’ the thought-voice rambled, sounding (as much as it could anyway) like it was near tears in its total ecstasy, which washed over me in waves, making it hard not to feel a little giddy myself.

“My name is Liora. But you still didn’t answer my other questions, Fiorre. Where are you and why did you bring me here? And while you’re at, how are you talking through my mind?” I asked, determined to get answers from this thing. Unfortunately, Fiorre was apparently experiencing to many extreme emotions at once to think clearly, which were all broadcast to my mind as he (I decided to call it a ‘he’ since Fiorre sounded like a masculine name to me) began wailing and crying in earnest.

‘Thank you! Thank you Liora, for coming here, for saying my name! I haven’t heard anyone’s thoughts for so long! I’m not, I’m not anywhere I’m afraid, not how you must know it. I’m not, I don’t…wait. Wait, you said you were brought here? Oh, no…oh no, I didn’t! I didn’t, I swear!’ Fiorre cried, suddenly overwhelmed with sadness and guilt. The severity and spontaneous nature of his emotions were giving me a proper headache.

“STOP YELLING!” I shouted, and I could practically feel him flinch away, his thoughts becoming slightly less connected to mine. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I just want to know what’s going on. Do you understand!? I was brought here by your thoughts and by the bells ringing, and I want to know what it means.” I said firmly. Fiorre clearly wasn’t in any stable sort of mindset, so I decided to just fixate on getting one answer at a time out of him. I still couldn’t believe I was talking to a disembodied voice, but something about it seemed oddly acceptable… maybe I was just in shock, or maybe the bells were still working their magic on me, but the fact of the matter was that this disembodied voice had the answers. I didn’t even try to understand that bit about ‘being nowhere’.

‘Liora…I didn’t want this to happen, I’m sorry. If you’re here, I should’ve realized, it means they’re back, and there isn’t anything to be done. I’m sorry, Liora, I’m so sorry…’ Fiorre mentally-wept. I didn’t even know until today one could mentally weep, but I didn’t know how else to describe the overwhelming emotions that made his thoughts waver in my mind, like he himself was having a hard time focusing on what was being ‘said’.

“Alright, get a grip, Fiorre. One step at a time, what the heck are you talking about? Who’s back, and what does it have to do with me. And don’t assume I know anything, because I am totally in the dark here.” I said.

‘The-the sword, do you see it on the altar, Liora? That’s where I am, it’s where my mind is. I once had a body, but I can’t remember it anymore. The sword has a name, too, or rather a title. It’s called the Sword of Souls, as it can collect or destroy souls whenever and however the owner wishes. My own ‘soul’ rests in it, but only those chosen specifically by the sword can use its power. That’s what you were drawn here by, the magic in in the sword. I’m sorry Liora, but you’re the only person who can use it.’ Fiorre said. My mind reeled with everything I’d just been told; souls? Magic? I’d have to be crazy to believe in that stuff! Of course, there was also the undeniable fact I was talking to bodiless mind, and that I had been drawn here by bells of all things, so maybe it wasn’t as impossible as I wanted it to be.

“Whoa, whoa, take a step back. You’re telling me magic is real, you’re a soul stuck in the sword, and I apparently have the ability to crush souls? Don’t you think I would have noticed if I could do that by now?” I said, not quite willing to let go of my skepticism yet.

‘Wha…of course magic is real! It has been for centuries! No one ever told you? Oh, Liora, how can I explain? You won’t have the sword’s magic until you wield it yourself, and then there’s no turning back. Please tell me you understand, please say you can get me out of here!’ Fiorre begged.

“Calm down! I’m starting to understand, more or less, but I don’t know anything about getting you out of the sword. Unless you meant getting out of the temple, in which case, yeah I could probably do that. So long story short, I touch the sword, get magic powers, and then…what? What about the people who are ‘coming back’?” I said, my head starting to spin. Going in circles with this guy was surprisingly exhausting, especially since he seemed unaware of how much his emotions were being broadcast.

‘The sword, Liora, it only chooses people during times of great conflict. If you’ve been chosen, it means there’s dark magic about, and it’s your responsibility to stop it. I was told the same thing when I was human, I only hope you fare better than I.’ he said solemnly. I suddenly had about a hundred more questions I wanted to ask him, but I decided grudgingly to focus on the most important ones for now.

“Why would it be my responsibility? I’m only fourteen, I can’t battle dark magic! Besides, being a vigilante is illegal. Can’t I pass the sword magic or whatever on to someone else?” I said. Part of my brain actually did like the idea of fighting crime myself; I always did say I could do a better job then the police, and this was a chance to prove it. But the rational part of me (which was starting to speak a lot louder now for some reason) insisted that doing anything like that would be impractical and unethical, no matter how tempting it sounded.

The sun glimmered lightly through my bedroom window, though with it being Fall it gave off little warmth. I rummaged impatiently through my closet, determined to find the perfect clothes for this monumental day. Choosing my favorite red sweater, the one with the golden buttons and the downturned collar that looked to me like frayed leaves, and a pair of black three-quarter pants, I swiftly got dressed before hurtling myself downstairs like a wild canon.

“Morning, Mom! What’s up?” I asked eagerly, dashing to meet her in the kitchen where she was making breakfast. My mom is basically awesome; she works fulltime as a therapist, but still finds time to talk to me and make me breakfast before she goes to work. She also used to serve in the military, so she knows a lot about martial arts and weaponry, and in general is super smart.

“Morning, Liora. We’re having pancakes for breakfast, and I bought some of your favorite foods for today. After work I was thinking we could go out together, shoot some hoops and watch a movie or something. Do you have any other plans?” she asked.

“I’m still going to school with Reka like always, but we don’t have anything else planned for today yet. Sports and movies sound good, can we have pie while we watch them?” I asked excitedly; I loved sweets, especially fruit pies and cream puffs; although really anything with an extreme flavor was at least okay in my book. Food should be adventurous, elaborate, and positively thrilling to consume as far as I’m concerned. Otherwise it’s either bland or disgusting, which really kills a person’s mood.

“Sure. However, Liora, there are a few things I want to talk to you about before you start the new school year.” My mom said. I was too excited finally starting high school – high school! – to even guess what my mom was going to say.

“Yeah, okay. I wonder what my teachers are going to be like?” I rambled; I tended to do that whenever I got excited, which…kind of happened a lot actually.

“Liora, now you’re just avoiding the subject. So I’ll be blunt about it; I don’t want you getting into any more fights at school, do you understand?” she said. Oh. So that’s what this was about.

“Hey, I never start fights, I just follow the natural path of the conversation. Sometimes, people just deserve to be punched, it’s not my fault if people insist on acting stupid and offensive.” I said, remembering all the times last year alone some jerk kid would say something or do something that just required my immediate response. Most of the time it was because they tried to pick on Reka, my best friend.

“Liora, you need to learn to mind your own business. Standing up for people is one thing, but giving them a black eye over something they said just isn’t acceptable. I just want you to keep that in mind this year, alright? That’s all I’m asking. It gets tiresome taking calls from teachers all the time, you know.” My mom said. I guess I could see her point, even though it wasn’t as if I ever tried to give her trouble.

“Alright, alright, I’ll try to act more relaxed.” I said, not sure how well I’d keep that promise but determined to try nonetheless. We then ate breakfast together, and I ran out and hopped on my bike. I always either biked or skated to school, though occasionally I’d jog during the spring. Sports and physical activities in general were my forte; gymnastics, fencing, martial arts, and dancing were the main ones I was good at, but I did a bit of tennis on the side sometimes too. The only physical activity I was really bad at was swimming; sure, I could keep myself afloat but I hated not being on dry land. It felt so unnatural, and the water weighed me down. On way to meet Reka, since I had left early, I stopped by Mr. Blackeagle’s shop. I was Mr. Blackeagle’s part-time assistant, and I’d always thought of him as being my unofficial father, since my real father wasn’t around anymore. He owned a fancy café that also served as a magic shop, so it had lots of books and candles and weird trinkets that were supposed to do different things. Even though I didn’t believe in anything I couldn’t see with my own eyes, I always wore the luck stone pendant he had given me for my tenth birthday.

“Hey Mr. Blackeagle! Guess what today is?” I said, bursting in through the front door.

“Hmm, I take it you’re not just referring to the fact that it’s Tuesday?” he said, with a knowing smile and a twinkle in his dark eyes. He obviously knew what I meant, I had been ranting to him about it all summer, but he was playing along with it because that’s just how he was. He wasn’t as blunt as Mom and played a lot more games with me, although I obviously loved them both equally. Mr. Blackeagle was just a lot more laid back, probably because he only had to watch me every now and then rather than actually raise me all the time.

“It’s my first day of high school! I won’t be able to help at the shop today, since my mom will be taking me out, but I’ll definitely be here tomorrow.” I said.

“Good to know. But you’ll have to tell me all about your school day, I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends at your new school, and you’re going to learn a lot.” He said.

“Learning, definitely, but I wouldn’t count on the ‘friends’ part. I’ll talk to anyone, but they’re usually pretty put off by me for some reason.” I said. I wasn’t particularly bothered by the fact I only had one real friend; I enjoyed all the one-shot conversations I had with people and just really liked being in such a crowded place. It doesn’t matter if I talk to all those people more then once, because there’ll always be someone new to talk to.

“That’s probably because you get right in their face and start going on about whatever you feel like. You’re quite intimidating sometimes, you know.” Mr. Blackeagle laughed. I felt proud at the compliment, even if it wasn’t totally meant as one.

“Thank you, Mr. Blackeagle. Oh, by the way, I made Mom promise to save some of today’s pie for you, so I’ll bring that over later today too.” I told him.

“That’s very considerate of you, Liora. And it reminds me, I have something I want to give to you tomorrow, I’ll hand it over when you come in to work.” He said.

“Huh? Why can’t you give it to me now?” I asked.

“Because you have to go to school now.” He said with a smile. I looked down at my watch. If I didn’t leave soon I’d be late.

“Wha -!? Shoot! Alright, see you later Mr. Blackeagle!” I said.

“See you, and good luck.” He replied, ruffling my hair before I took off. A few minutes later I saw Reka up ahead, her long red hair making her easy to spot from afar. She was on her own bike, waiting for me. Reka, as a rule, is super fabulous. I’ve known her since the second grade, and we’ve always gotten along.

“Liora! I thought you were going to be late, did something happen?” she asked kindly.

“Nope! I just got distracted by Mr. Blackeagle and his fancy shop is all. You ready to rock this school year?” I said enthusiastically.

“Well, I guess so. I hope I don’t get lost or have a lousy teacher.” She said.

“Don’t be crazy, you’re taking choir and orchestra, right? There’s no way you can mess that up. Now, algebra, that’s something we can worry about.” I said confidently.

“I’m surprised you’re willing to admit to ‘worrying’ about anything.” Reka said teasingly.

“I use the term loosely.” I replied.

“Of course. Anyway, I really am looking forward to my music classes; I’ve practiced my singing all summer, but it will be nice to have others to sing with again. It’s just different than singing alone, you know?” Reka said looking over to me.

“If it’s like beating a punching bag instead of sparring with a person, then yeah, I know the feeling. Real people are way better strategists.” I said. After all I’m not really a singer or a performer of any kind, so that was the nearest thing I could relate to; plus, I knew how much it annoyed her to have her art compared to something as ‘graceless and undignified’ as fighting.

“It’s nothing like hitting people, I just like the extra comradery! You may be my best friend, but you don’t get art at all.” Reka complained, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You realize they’re called martial arts for a reason, don’t you? I just don’t get your art. Regardless, I think this year is going to be fun and innovating. Or rather, I’ve decided its going to be whether it wants to or not.” I told her.

“That’s typically aggressive of you, please don’t do anything crazy this year. It’d be nice to have at least one school that didn’t think we were completely insane.” Reka said.

“Aw, come on Reka, you know you love the crazy feeling. And who wants to hang out with someone that isn’t just a little crazy anyway? If you really cared about being normal you’d find someone else to hang out with.” I said, smiling. Reka just sighed.

“True enough. But really don’t do anything weird, at least not today, okay?” Reka asked.

“Why does everyone think I’m going to blow something up? ‘Don’t start fights’, ‘don’t do anything weird’, I’m not a time bomb you know.” I said.

“Yeah, well, you act like one more often then not. Do I have to remind you about Jim Spencer?” she stated. I smiled a little. I remembered Jim Spencer quite well, he was an obnoxious bully in sixth grade. He told me girls weren’t as good at sports as guys, so I challenged him to a game of floor hockey (since that was his best sport). Long story short, I humiliated him by not only beating him, but revealing to the teacher he’d cheated on all of his math tests. His parent’s got mad and caused a commotion, but I didn’t regret a thing. He was an all around jerk, even if I technically was a bit overly vicious about the whole situation it’s not like anyone was hurt in the long run.

“I remember, Reka, although that’s hardly the ‘weirdest’ thing I’ve done. But if it’ll make you feel any better, I won’t go breaking people’s locker or tackling them from the top of the bleachers.” I said. Reka just sighed.

The first half of the school day was pretty uneventful; I had chemistry, language arts, and social studies, there were a bunch of people I’d never seen before, and I didn’t knock anyone out. Things were going good, and I was excited for lunch. “Okay but like why do I already have homework? I’m only half way through the day! Maybe Miss Brightly just hates people.” I complained, devouring my pizza and salad hungrily.

“I don’t know, but my brother can probably help us with that. He passed freshman science with a seventy-nine percent; I remember he was really mad that he didn’t quite make it to a B. But that’s better then I’m going to do without extensive help.” Reka said. Reka’s brother, Rueben, was eighteen and had just graduated from this very high school, he was cool like his sister and would help us every now and then with our homework if he had time for it.

“Eh, we’ll figure it out.” I said. We had a tradition of meeting up whenever we had math homework and working off of each other just to get a passing grade. Reka was about to reply when a loud, screeching noise filled the room. Everyone covered their ears; the noise was like a recording of a dying cat on maximum volume, it my head was splitting from it within seconds.

“What is that!?” Reka cried. Before me or anyone else could put together a coherent answer to that question, the wide cafeteria windows all shattered, and the result was pure pandemonium. Students were screaming, shoving each other, running in random directions. For my part, I shoved Reka under the table and peeked from underneath to try and see what was happening; arguably, I should have been trying to escape as well, but my curiosity won out.

Somebody leaped in through the broken windows, though all I could see of them from where I was were leather boots and brown pants. They didn’t say anything upon entering, just started throwing tables over and rummaging through file cabinets. Reka was trembling next to me. I was too on edge to clearly identify what I was feeling just then, but excitement and fear were definitely both there. The table shielding us suddenly went flying, and I found myself looking up into the wrathful face of a decidedly determined brown haired woman. She aimed a weird looking gun at as, so with a jolt of adrenaline I grabbed Reka by the arm and ran as fast as I could – which was pretty fast – not paying a great deal to where I was going.

“Liora, what’s happening!?” Reka yelled as we ran; or rather, as I ran and Reka stumbled after me as best she could. I was a much faster runner than her since I actually practiced, so once we were out of ear shot of the intruder I slowed down my pace a little.

“No idea, aside from the fact our school was just broken into by a criminal. The police have probably already been called, but it couldn’t hurt to call again just to make sure. There’s a phone in the main office, right?” I said.

“Y-yeah, there is. But how can you be so calm!?” Reka asked, clearly panicking.

“I wouldn’t say I’m ‘calm’, I’m just using my head. Now point me to the office!” I said, for I still had no idea where I was going while Reka knew the layout of the place somewhat from when she visited it with her brother.

“Left! Turn left there!” Reka shouted, and I followed her directions. She continued to yell directions at me until we finally reached the main office, where I called the police. As soon as we hung up, we heard an explosion from the other side of the building; even at a distance, the sound was ear shattering, and we both collapsed onto the floor from the horrible headache the sound caused – especially since the screeching sound from earlier was back.

I didn’t know what to do. My heart was racing, I’ve never been in a situation like this before; it was both scary and exciting.

“Come on, Reka, let’s go check it out.” I said.

“Wait! It might not be safe! Explosions can leave the air really toxic!” Reka insisted.

“But we won’t know if everyone’s alright if we just sit here!” I argued.

“Liora, please! The police are on their way.” Reka said.

“…I’ll be just be a minute, stay here.” I said, dashing off before she could stop me. Running through the halls of the school, I passed a lot of empty rooms, following the increasingly audible sound of panicked yells and gun shots until I came to the gym, or rather, what used to be the gym. Most of the northern wall and nearly all of the ceiling were missing. I was glad to at least see that no one appeared dead, unless there were people I couldn’t see underneath the rubble. I ran to join a girl and some teachers who were moving the rubble to look for more students and faculty members.

We didn’t find anybody, leading the teachers to believe that the gym had been mostly empty when it blew up, although there were many still injured. It wasn’t much later that the police arrived and made everyone evacuate. Reka found me again and burst into tears, which was incredibly awkward, so I just kept telling her everything would be fine and she needn’t have been so worried about me in the first place.

Unsurprisingly, the rest of the school day was cancelled. I went home to be tackled by my mom, who was just as concerned about my well being as Reka was; at least she didn’t start crying on me. Feeling oddly unfocused, even shocked, I retired to my room and started lifting some weights. I couldn’t get that woman’s face out of my head; it was so full of hate, so desperate; I’d never seen anything like it. Why would anyone want to terrorize a school, anyway? There wasn’t any political controversy at the moment that would garner such a severe reaction, at least not that I was aware of.

I didn’t know who I was anymore. All sensation was lost to me; I could not see, nor hear, nor feel a thing, I couldn’t so much as smell the air around me to save my life; if you could go so far as to call this living. I wanted to die, there was surely nothing worse then living forever in isolation, detached from the very senses that make one human. Time meant nothing to me anymore. Memories blurred, making it hard to recall which of those face once belonged to me. What was my name again? Does it even matter? Even when I had a body, I wasn’t really human. I remember that. I wasn’t human, and I hurt everyone I came across, regardless of my intent. I know I killed people, and I know I betrayed people. Why should the details matter? Perhaps it’s better if I forget it all…

No! You can’t let go of the only thing proving you were once human! Without your memories, you cannot exist, and forgetting will not absolve you of your sins or your guilt. You owe it to every person you murdered and betrayed to remember, as long as time keeps turning!

I hated that voice. It was me, of course, every voice in my head was, even if they didn’t always sound like it. Not that I could very well remember what my own voice sounded like; but some voices just felt more foreign to me then others. But that particular voice I hated the most. It was the one that hated, it was the one that cared, and it was the one that tormented me until all I could understand were my own silent screams of agony, reaching out desperately for someone to hear me, to find me. I couldn’t stay like this forever, the next one had to be chosen some day, for if there was one constant in this world it was conflict, treachery. This world will always need heroes, so where is the next one? I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be saved, to have someone listen to my thoughts again, to be able to touch someone’s mind and have mine touched in return. Even if that was as close as I could ever get to communicating to another the way I am now, it would be enough, it would be more than I have now.

The chimes were ringing again. I don’t know how much time has passed. I must be screaming again, I can feel humans existing outside my reach, why can’t they hear me, why don’t they find me? I imagine I hear a song, someone singing, someone calling my name, whatever it had been. It almost felt real. I shouldn’t want to be found. That could only happen if people are hurting, if people are dying. How could I wish for that? I’m such a selfish person, I deserve this eternal prison. But I don’t want it anymore. I want to be heard, I want people to react to me, acknowledge my existence. No, affirm my existence, for there was little to convince me that I wasn’t just a bad dream, a thought lost on the wind, I doubt sometimes even my clearest memories.

I grasped at the wind, it no longer sings to me, it no longer obeys. But out there, somewhere, was somebody who would hear me. And even if it destroyed whatever was left of me to do so, I wasn’t going to stop stretching the very fabric of my mind to its limit until I found that person. Nothing else mattered. It didn’t matter that I deserved death, that I wanted it. It didn’t matter that I no longer could even pretend to be a person. It didn’t even truly matter if I really existed or not. Just if one person could hear me, just for one more time, that would be enough. So even if it breaks me, I’ll never, ever stop searching. ____________________________________________________________________ Elina looked down at her sleeping daughter, unsure of what should be done. She had just gotten a call from the police that her husband had gone missing. She knew something like this might happen, but how to explain it to a three year old? She knew she was capable of taking care of her daughter by herself; it wasn’t finances she was concerned about. Sighing anxiously, she decided to visit an old family friend who lived nearby.

Walking through the cold, foggy city, she didn’t stop until she reached a small shop entitled, ‘The Golden Box’. Opening the front door, she relished the gust of warm, sweetly scented air that hit her face. She sat in the familiar, squishy chair in the lounge area of the café – magic shop crossover and waited for the other customers to weed out as closing time came.

Finally, once everyone else had gone, her friend, the shop owner, came out to see if anyone had stayed, not realizing it was closing hour. When he saw her sitting there, he immediately went to sit across from her.

“Elina, what is it? You never come in without a call if the news is good.” Ryan Blackeagle said, his dark brown eyes glowing with concern under his messy, raven colored bangs.

“Lysander’s gone missing. I just got the call. It’s not likely he’s going to come back, not for a long time anyways. And someone needs to look after Liora while I’m at work. That, and I’m concerned about what your analyses have shown. I want you to keep an eye on her when I can’t, and help her understand that which I can’t teach her. I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I see no other alternative.” Elina said calmly, hiding her own nervousness.

“Elina, that’s terrible! Of course, I’ll do whatever I can to help. But I don’t really know much about kids; how am I supposed to keep her out of trouble during shop hours? It would seem suspicious for me to take an extended vacation or early retirement so suddenly after all.” Blackeagle said.

“You could take her on as your assistant maybe? Unofficially of course, but you can’t let her out of your sight too often. Perhaps you could turn one of your extra offices into a part-time daycare? If it’s not possible, then I’ll look for another option of course, but I’d prefer she spend my work hours with you rather than someone who knows nothing of our situation.” Elina explained.

“No, I understand that. She can of course come in at any time, but until she’s a little older I can’t have her following me everywhere in the workplace. Not everything is safe for someone so young.” Blackeagle stated.

“Of course. Just watching her will be enough for the time being. Can she come in tomorrow morning? I’m planning to tell her about Lysander once I get home from work and can spend some actual time with her after explaining it.” Elina said, pain in her eyes.

“Wait, are you really going to tell her all of it? She’s just a kid Elina, she only just turned three! She wouldn’t understand, even with your years of counseling experience you wouldn’t be able to tell her in anyway that won’t leave her upset and with abandonment issues to boot.” Blackeagle argued.

“Then what do you propose I do? Lie to her? Say nothing? Kids are more intuitive then you think, she’ll catch onto the fact something’s wrong, especially as she gets older, and who knows what her creative mind will come up with to fill the blanks?” Elina countered.

“I’m not saying avoid her questions or lie, I just think certain details should be left out until she’s older. Yes, when she first finds out we kept information from her she’ll be upset, but isn’t that preferable and decidedly less permanent then damage that could be done by telling her now?” Blackeagle insisted. Elina sighed.

“Alright. I suppose you have a point. But I’m telling her as much as I can tomorrow, and the rest will come as soon as possible, hopefully while she’s still in elementary school.” She said, giving in for the time being.

“Elina…I really am sorry about what happened. I know how stressful this must be. I don’t mean to tell you how to be a parent; goodness knows I have no real experience there. But I just don’t want Liora to be any more hurt then is absolutely necessary. I’ll of course back up whatever decisions you make, and help anyway that I can.” Blackeagle said.

“Thanks, Ryan. I’ll make it up to you some time. But if I could ask just one more favor…when you’re with Liora, try to teach her whatever you can to help her survive, okay? I’ll do the same of course, but you know some things even I don’t, and I want her to be prepared.” Elina requested.

“Naturally. I’ll do my best. For tonight, though, I think we both better just get some rest. You’ll be fine on your way home I assume?” Blackeagle said.

“I didn’t go through fours years of military service and training for nothing, you know.” Elina said, a smile creeping onto her face for the first time that day. “I’ll see you in the morning, Ryan. Goodnight.” She said, leaving to go back to her house.

The ship was being tossed from side to side with the waves, churning, swirling, pulling at the hull and almost breaking through the thick wood that kept them afloat. Wet strands of hair clung to Fiorre’s face and she pulled with the wheel, struggling to hold her steady. She was alone, no crew or helmsmen aboard to hold the man the sails. Always so alone.

Waking with a start, Fiorre sat up and tossed coins onto the whore’s bed, feeling the weight of her gold purse in her other hand, before leaning in to press a kiss to the girls’  pale lips. “I should make you one of my regulars,” Laughed the girl, pulling the sheets up to her neck as Fiorre searched for her boots. She winced slightly at the thought of it, trying to work out how it would feel to be regular in any sense. Since leaving her home, nothing in her life had been as it should. Although as she perched on the corner of Alia’s bed, she could hardly say their relationship was usual. She had visited the whorehouse on her first night on the Red Isle, leaving the ship and crew she had used to flee her home, and making sure the captain’s purse was much lighter than before. She had been shown the girls room, and told to have her way as long as she could pay for it. And she had, she’d spent the night in the arms of the woman who called herself ‘Alias’, with her thick accent that Fiorre could not figure out, those tumbling blonde curls that fell far beyond her waist and eyes that reminded her of the oceans that now felt like home. At first, she came for the company, yet now, she came to soothe the nightmares. It was only with Alias next to her that she could sleep for an hour or so, rest her head so that she might think straight again. She reached for her coat, raising an eyebrow as she glanced back to the bed. “Do so. It seems I may be needing you still for a while yet.” She took longer to attach her belt than usual, watching Alias stand up from the bed and pull on her thin dress, so slight you could almost see her naked self through it. Almost. Alias moved closer, pressing one soft, lasting kiss to Fiorre’s lips before pushing her away, out of the curtained room. Fiorre’s time was clearly up.