#toffh

Escape had always been on my mind.

Since day one of my arrival, I knew I had to escape as soon as I could.

The first month of my stay in this horrendous world was spent in a giant’s pet shop. Not that I knew that at first: my first 2 weeks were spent in the backroom with the shop clerks and shop stock. A need for quarantine, and vaccinations, and being “handled” to grow accustomed to the monsters around me. Not that I would ever become used to being held in a giant’s fist, let alone by ones who saw me as something to be kept and pampered over. Not that I wanted to get used to this world at all. I’m still not sure why I’m here. I learned the “how” after a while: a random act of magic snatching me off the street in Dublin, Ireland, only to wind up in a gigantic world. Filled with immense creatures who saw us as pests or vermin or…pets.

The shop clerks were used to “handling” humans it seemed. Or, at least, one of them was. The other seemed all too eager and impatient with us. Yes. “Us”. I wasn’t the only one in that pet shop. A handful of us were kept near the storefront window to catch the sun and eyes of the passersby. Puppies and kittens and colorful budgerigars were kept in the main display, but “we” were never too far away.

Knowing I wasn’t alone in this predicament was comforting and sickening all at once. Matters weren’t helped when I learned I was the only one interested in escape.

“Are you out of your mind?” a woman, Daisy, asked when I made the suggestion one day. They kept us separate enough: women on one side, men on the other. More “social” and “friendly” people were kept in groups while some were in their own cages. I was one of the latter. I would never give these giants the satisfaction if I could help it.

Daisy, it seemed, wasn’t on the same page.

“We can’t stay here, this is insane! And dehumanizing!” I whispered, though none of the giants were nearby. I didn’t know just how keen their hearing truly was and didn’t want to risk it. “I…we shouldn’t stay trapped here!”

“Who says we’re trapped? Or for long?” Daisy tried to argue. “Just because you don’t like it here doesn’t mean we all do.”

“And you think I’M out of my mind?” I countered.

“Don’t take it personal, kid.” a voice interjected from beside me. “She was born into this. She’s never known any different.”

“Wait, you’re from Earth? THE Earth? AMAZING!” Daisy interrupted with renewed vigor. “What’s it like?”

To say I was defeated was an understatement. I ignored both their inquiries at that point. If I was going to get out of there, it would have to be on my own.

That’s how she found me.

Slumped in a corner of “my” cage: pathetic, downtrodden, and dispirited. I must have looked quite the sight.

“I’ll take him!” a voice stated, as an annoying tapping started. It was enough to catch my attention, not that I could’ve avoided it otherwise. “He looks like he could use a friend!”

It didn’t take long to start missing the pet shop.

Originally, I was glad to be away from all the eyes and sounds and gaping expressions that came with being an object in a retail store. Some peace and quiet for once, even if it meant I would be alone with her. There was plenty to fear from being in the presence of a singular giant monster that didn’t have concerns about supervisor oversight or daily goals to achieve or a business score to keep up. I had no idea what her true intentions would be.

It would turn out her intentions were selfish and shallow. I was bought to heal her “broken heart” from a recent break-up. She thought buying a “companion pet”, a human, a PERSON, would help her feel less lonely.

I almost believed her.

Until it became painfully obvious why she was “lonely”.

“BYE MATE SEE YOU LATER!” she’d call out as she left the apartment for the day.

In the pet shop, as humiliating as it was, at least the clerks were sure to check up on us. Made sure we were fed, we weren’t feeling ill, had stuff to preoccupy ourselves, and other such things. Even when the shop was closed for the night, they made sure we -critter and person alike- had what we needed until morning.

This woman barely made the effort. My cage had the minimum requirements: a cushion bed, a shower and toilet, and a ball. The pet shop was nowhere near as sterile and empty a set-up as this “forever home”.

Not that she paid much attention after that first day. She made sure I was fed before she left for work or parties or whatever nonsense she did, but not much else. It seemed she saw me more as some goldfish to barely bother with then as an intelligent creature that needed interaction. Let alone consider me a person. To call her a negligent pet owner would be too kind.

The only thing that kept me sane, or entertained at least, was the fact my cage was set in front of a window. The closest thing to genuine kindness she would ever offer. Outside the window, beyond the rooftops and towers of the city, just past the train station, was the only thing that held my interest: an airfield.

I wasn’t sure what kind of transportation I was expecting in this world. They were giants, who knew magic, and didn’t seem to have anything like computers or television. Would everything be horse-drawn carriages and railroads? Surely airplanes or flying carpets wouldn’t be littering the air as well?

And they weren’t. But they did have airships.

Not aircraft likes blimps or dirigibles or zeppelins. No, these were very much the standard fantasy fair that comes to mind with a word like “airship”. Large balloons were attached by rigging and netting to galleons and cartels and cruise liners and yachts and many more. It was the last thing I expected to see, frankly.

It was a beautiful sight to see the ships landing and refilling their envelopes -the balloons- and taking off all day long.

It was heartbreaking as well.

The day I arrived in this world, the day I was taken away from all I knew and loved by thunder and magic and fate, was the day I was supposed to start my new job. I was fresh out of university, had landed the interview and aced it, ready to start my career at one of Ireland’s largest aeronautics firms. A life of analyzing and designing and building all sorts of aircrafts was within my reach.

But I was here instead. Stuck in a cage. As a pet. And in clear view of the closest thing I could possibly enjoy in this wretched place, but never touch.

Imagining how the airships were built, how the envelopes were filled so quickly, what they were filled with, where they were travelling: these questions, these daydreams, were what got me through each dreary, quiet day.

Escape was still on my mind. Don’t ever doubt that. But resources were limited, and chances were few.

She barely checked in on me, after all.

She had a name. I had it memorized since the day she bought me from the shop and introduced herself as my “new big buddy”. But she didn’t deserve to be named. Not when she couldn’t be bothered to use mine. I knew she knew what my name was. I knew she had the paperwork with all my “essential” information on it. The pet shop clerks had been thorough about that: made sure my name was recorded and spelt correctly, noted my allergies (none, but still), and anything else a “new owner” might need to know. It was the only thing that gained the smallest iota of respect I could’ve had for those clerks.

She hadn’t mentioned my name once. Not even made up one in its place. Not even a nickname. She hardly acknowledged my existence.

That changed when Parvati showed up.

She had gotten back together with her ex-girlfriend about a week or two after I was “settled” in. The girlfriend took more of an interest in me, at least.

“Oh! Hello there!” she greeted when she caught sight of me and my set-up. A gentle wave was offered when she saw me flinch at the greeting. Her voice was softer when she spoke afterwards. “I’m Parvati. Who might you be?”

I saw no reason at the time not to tell her.

“Ostador. Ostador Fogg.” I replied.

Parvati would end up being my saving grace.

Even if it was also the start of an even more frustrating environment. See, there was a reason Parvati and her were an on-again-off-again couple. They would be fine for a few days, only for something to set off an argument that ignited into a full-blown row. Parvati would storm off, she would be surly for a few days in the apartment, only to have the pair make-up again. And again. And again.

I found myself the cause of some of these arguments, though not on purpose.

Parvati took to adding to “my” cage more than she did. I am loathe to say it was becoming cozy and livable with her additions. A couch, some artificial plants -from a doll house, I had to assume-, and a better water closet set-up made it more hospitable. Parvati even crocheted a life-sized rabbit she dubbed “Bunny Friend”. It wasn’t the most expertly crafted creation, but I had a small appreciation for the sentiment and the effort. At least it meant someone was thinking of me in that damned flat.

It was these new additions and supplies that helped me start stockpiling for my escape. Bits and pieces from the new “toys” and furniture would help create a grapple and a crude bag. “Bunny Friend” was undoubtedly the best resource: he was made of yarn after all. Giant-made, giant-sized, giant-strength yarn. It was enough to hold me for whatever I decided next: whether it was escape from this cage or from this life.

She didn’t like the attention Parvati was giving me. Less so the lectures Parvati would give on “proper human care”. One of their biggest blow-ups came when Parvati came over one day with a few books. I watched as she struggled to shrink them down and set them inside my cage for me. It was a small gesture but one I would appreciate. She was careful not to get too close, and moved slowly. Parvati knew I still flinched at their loud noises and their large, sudden movements.

“Thought you might like these.” she explained once the book stack was set down. I waited until she withdrew her hand and the door was latched before I made a move toward them. “I mean, I hope you do. I figured they might catch your fancy.”

“Are these…books about airships?” I asked, looking them over. “And trains?

“I’ve seen you looking out the window most of the time so I thought…if you don’t like them, that’s fine. I should’ve asked first.”

“No, it’s…this is great. Thanks a million.” I said, my nose already in the first book.

That small word of gratitude was enough to set her off. Apparently, I’d never said anything to her in all the time I’d been there. It would be a few days before Parvati returned once again into her life. I had already read through 2 of the 3 books when she came back. Parvati didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was glad I was enjoying them.

And oddly enough…I was.

Learning how the technology, or lack thereof, and their magic worked together was fascinating. Their balloons weren’t filled with helium or hydrogen or any sort of gas at all. They were all fire or heat based, much like a standard hot-air balloon would be. Odd and impractical, but that was the kindest description of this place, wasn’t it?

I mention heat because, apparently, they used crystals to hold their spells. Why there was electricity in buildings and homes but no noticeable power sources in sight; why there were working ovens but no obvious gas line hook-ups. Most, if not all, of what I saw as modern-day conveniences in a fantasy setting were, at some level, crystal based. It made things complicated but not impossible.

Especially when I finally had the start of a plan.

She had taken me out, finally, after weeks of being stuck in the cage. I believed her intent was to get me some exercise or something. There were some items on the immense dining room table. The thought crossed my mind that maybe this was my end. Fairytales may not be real back home, but that didn’t mean they weren’t partially true here.

She naturally got distracted almost immediately by a telephone call. It took her several minutes to finish the call and realize I was still sat at the table.

For a moment, she looked shocked.

The truth was, I had contemplated making a dash for the table’s edge. Jump to a chair or shimmy down a table leg or something. But the idea of being chased down was one I couldn’t shake. So, a better one came to mind.

“You…stayed in one spot?” she asked.

“I…I’m not one for looking down…” I said, pretending to avoid the table’s edge. “If you know what I mean.”

I loved to rock climb. Indoor rock walls at the local gym or taking destination holidays to scale cliffs wasn’t a new experience to me. It was one of the things I had in common with my former university roommate, Benson. A meter to this giant was nothing to me. But she didn’t need to know that.

And it worked.

She was already pretty flighty, so it didn’t take her long to take me out, set me down somewhere, and forget about me for a while. Even when Parvati came back into her life, I played the part. Parvati, to my detriment, made sure to check-in on me more often though. I wasn’t sure if it was genuine concern or simple paranoia and distrust.

I bided my time and was rewarded within the month.

The chance came one morning when she was running late. She wasn’t paying attention, as usual, and didn’t see fit to shut the top of the cage properly before she left. It was enough.

I gave her time to come back and fix her mistake, just in case she returned. After one of the tensest half hours of my life, I felt it was safe. Climbing the bars wasn’t difficult, and reinforcing the top so it didn’t fall was simple enough. I was out of the cage and on a solid surface within moments.

Finally.

A rope was tied to one of the cage bars and thrown over the side. The piece of wood attached to the end insured it reached the ground quickly. The knots had been carefully spaced for maximum hand and foot hold usage. When she came home and saw I was gone, she was sure to start her search on the ground level. Perhaps checking every nook and cranny, looking under all of her furniture in the hopes of finding me. Safe and sound, or hurt, or whatever condition I might have been. She would expect to find me in her flat, no matter what.

I took great pleasure in knowing how disappointed she would be.

The real plan was to head outside. The window was left open, as usual, to air out the flat. There was generous room for me to duck under and out, without fear of getting stuck or needing to lift it higher. I wasn’t sure what story the apartment was on, but it didn’t matter. With a hop, skip, and a leap of faith onto the window sill, I was free.

Free.

Oh, to feel the wind again, to smell the air.

To climb a rocky surface again.

The bricks were large, and wide, and evenly spaced. Not quite like the rock climbing walls or cliff-faces I’d scaled before, but I was still able to make my way up.

Yes, up.

Down would’ve been the smarter and more obvious move. Sure. No worry about falling, would probably have been easier to find food eventually. And to be honest, I almost changed my mind. But I was determined to keep the high ground. To throw her off my trail as best I could for as long as possible.

Mostly, it was to keep the airfield in sight. I knew it was stupid. It didn’t make sense. I knew that. But it was the only thing to keep me focused.

By the time I reached the rooftop, it was around noon. I set-up my “camp” as quickly and as best I could. The roof was in disarray and almost abandoned. The only life came from a broken down, but still occupied pigeon coop. The door had fallen off long ago, but nests remained inside nonetheless. It didn’t look like it had seen any giant life otherwise. The entrance into the building looked rusted over. Corners of the area were filled with scraps and detritus.

I spent most of that first day of freedom resting. The climb had been arduous. I was out of practice and out of shape because of it. That would eventually change. Climbing up and down to the flats below would become a daily excursion. At least until I was ready to find someplace new. And I knew exactly where I wanted to go.

Especially once I discovered the ship.

Scavenging through the rubbish piles that littered the roof was necessary and time-consuming. Whatever bits and parts I could use were welcomed. It seemed to mostly contain old toys and remnants of previous parties. A good deal of cloth for certain, if musty and worn in places. Nothing I couldn’t handle and mend. My heart almost stopped when one pile shifted and revealed the most wonderful sight: a ship.

I wasn’t sure how old it was. If the age wasn’t affected by the weather or whatever caused it to be discarded. It was beautiful nonetheless.  Even more so when I realized what all the bits and bobs still attached to it meant.

Once upon a time, it was an airship.

It took a while to find the envelope, the balloon, that belonged to it. Neither the ship nor the balloon were in the best shape. They needed work and repairs.

It lit a flame in my heart. I was going to build an airship. Or rebuild, to be technical.

The next few weeks…or months, I wasn’t sure how long, exactly…every time I made a raid for food, I kept an eye out for airship repair supplies. Thread, nails, sewing needles, glue, whatever I could carry or gather and haul to the roof.

I made sure to avoid her flat in all that time.

I wasn’t going to take the chance of her seeing me again, let alone to catch me. There was a temptation once, to see if she had even noticed I was gone. I sat on top of her window, trying to decide on my approach, only to hear the usual shouting match between her and Pavarti.

What did I think would happen? That my disappearance would change her?

Building the ship helped put me at ease. Tired me out more than the climbing did, but still. It was amazing to feel something again. To do something I wanted to do, without supervision, without fear of being scooped up and sold off to some negligent giant as more of a living figurine than as a sapient creature.

That wasn’t true. I was still scared of being discovered.

Paranoia kept me on my toes. Originally, I had my camp set-up along the walls of the roof. Over time, and one windy afternoon that rattled the immense entrance door despite its rust, I relocated to one of the air vents. Far enough within to be out of sight or reach of a giant, close enough to still get around. The ship couldn’t stay in its spot either. It took time, effort, and days of gathering the needed counterweights to move. Eventually, and luckily, the ship was moved to the top of the doorway. Out of sight, and out of reach, of any giant that might make their way to the roof one day.

It would be one of the wisest things I could’ve done.

The day finally came. That morning was perfect. The winds were low, there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and the temperature practically delightful. It was the perfect day to fly. All that was needed was to fill the envelope. I’d plenty of candles and keeping them lit would be easy enough. It was just a matter of waiting. Which I was content to do. What was a few minutes more, when I’d been at this for weeks already?

That’s when he dropped in. Or “popped” in, rather.

I flinched at the sound, half expecting to hear the fateful thunder crash that brought me to this world in the first place. To feel the pull of motion and nausea as every part of me was forced elsewhere. I started breathing again when I realized I was still in the same spot.

And so was the giant.

He staggered to lean against something, anything, before he fell. He managed to catch himself before he bent over and retched.

Great. I was going to have to deal with a DRUNK giant.

Without a moment to waste, I started loading up the ship. I ducked down as best I could once everything was settled. The candles still needed time to do their work. The envelope was nowhere near full and had a way to go yet. I crouched, and prayed, and waited for the giant to move again.

And waited. And waited. And…waited.

I almost took it as just my paranoia acting up. That I had just imagined a giant popping in and out of thin air.

“Urrrgggghhhh…”

Until I heard the groan.

“Gods help me, how much more a’ this can I take?” he said aloud. I watched as his sandy blond hair bobbed across the roof and looked over the edge. “Hells, where am I now?”

Please don’t look up, please don’t look up I pleaded to myself, watching as he “explored” the roof.

It didn’t take him long at all to find the rooftop entrance. He gave the rusted lock and chain a firm shake.

“That’s not good.” he muttered. “I wonder if…Mend.”

I knew that tone. Heard her use that same inflection in her voice whenever she cast a spell. Not that she knew or used many, at least as far as I could tell. I didn’t like the idea of the door suddenly being accessible, but if I was lucky, I would be gone before someone else arrived.

“Damn. Maybe the ghan-bri way?” he continued.

Now that was a phrase I didn’t know. Or understand. Maybe one day I would find out.

“BLOODY SODDIN’ HELLS!”

But for now, I was more concerned with the problem at hand. It took a moment or two for the giant to stop swearing up a storm. Something about “spell locks” and “due diligence” littered in.

“Looks like I’m waitin’ this one out…” he said.

All right, fine. Sharing the roof with the strange, drunk giant wasn’t ideal, but if I kept my head I’d be out of there soon enough anyway. Perhaps if I found a way to distract him?

“What the…?” I heard him ask. The sound of something being dragged across the roof and set down close by, too close, followed soon after.

Oh no.

“Oh! A toy airship! Wonder if it’s a-?”

“STAY BACK!”

There went keeping my head.

I found myself jumping off the boat and brandishing the closest thing to a weapon I had. The giant and I locked eyes. His hand stopped where it was, within a meter of the prow. He looked surprised to see me, but he wasn’t scared. Not that I expected him to be, but it would have been nice.

Especially when all I had was a wooden splinter for a sword. Less so when my hands began to shake.

“Do…don’t you d-dare…” I tried to threaten, words stumbling over each other.

“Sorry, dinno it was yers.” the giant answered softly. I watched as he actually retracted his hand. It wasn’t something I was expecting, really. I had lived with a selfish giant and been kept in a shop with handsy ones. There was half an expectation he would grab me, or the ship, or both, anyway.

It wasn’t a surprise to see him still staring. A glance out of the corner of my eye confirmed the candles were still at their work. Painfully slow, but still doing their best. The envelope needed more time to fill up. It seemed I hadn’t any left of my own.

There was no way this giant was going to leave now. Would I be able to escape? Or would I have to do something drastic?

The scraping sound brought me out of my thoughts. The giant had stepped down and returned whatever item he used as a stepping stool back to its place.

“I dinna mean tuh interrupt. Hope ye doona mind me waitin’ fer this Jumper stone tuh recharge. Shouldne be tuh long now.” he said, leaning against the rooftop door. Or so I assumed, it was hard to tell without looking over the edge. I wasn’t about to risk being snatched that way. “Name’s Colm, by the way.”

“Ostador.” I found myself saying. My arm dropped to my side, sword still shaking. “Ostador Fogg.”

“Nice tuh meet ye, Osta. Erm, I mean, Ostador. Sorry, been told I have a habit a’ makin’ nicknames. ‘Less ye like bein’ called ‘Osta’?”

“Friends call me Osta.” I replied. There was a part of me that wanted to curse myself for the inflection. There was another part of me that was proud for including it.

“…Got ye, Ostador.”

A sigh of relief escaped my lips. The last thing I needed was a rampaging, raging, drunk giant to ruin what I’d worked so hard on. I was so close -SO CLOSE- and didn’t need to see it fall apart before I’d had the chance to lift off.

“Doona s’pose ye know where we are, Ostador?” he asked a few moments later.

“I’m not sure. I know we’re between…I think it’s called Rosecrest and…and Acadia?”

“Arcadia. Then we’re probably in Kirkfries.” he elaborated. “No, we definitely are. That’s the Kirkfries Airfield right there. An’ I think that’s the new Royal Airship they’re buildin’. Prob’ly as a coronation gift.”

I had noticed the construction weeks before. A part of me scoffed at how long it was taking “Magical Giants” to build the thing, any thing, really. But I couldn’t begrudge them, if she was any indication: not everyone knew every spell.

I suppose that was one of the reasons the airfield fascinated me. And why I was compelled to keep it in sight. And why it would be my first destination.

“It all right if I ‘come back up’?” he asked after a while.

I hesitated. The smart thing would’ve been to ignore him and hope for the best. The envelope was making progress, and I think I could’ve set-off. Or at least kept in the air long enough to settle on a different roof.

The smart thing would’ve been not to engage any further.

“Oh-okay.”

I swallowed hard as I listened to the scraping again. Watched with bated breath as his blond hair and hilariously large eyebrows and curious blue eyes came back into view. His movements were slow and deliberate, at least. It was a relieving bewilderment that he didn’t move any closer.

“Do ye mind if I ask ye a few questions?” he eventually asked.

My stomach heaved as I nodded.

“Does she look familiar? Did ye come ‘cross’er tuhday or yesterday?”

He produced a photo and laid it down in front of me. I waited until his hand moved back before I glanced at it. It was a picture of him and a human woman. She was “pushing” him out of the camera frame. Brown hair, fair skin, glasses, hefty. If I didn’t know better, I almost would have said she looked happy. Surely it was part of an act. It had to be.

“No.” I answered.

“Figured as much. If she were here, I’m sure she wooda heard me swearin’ befer…” he sighed as he took the photo back. There was a moment of awkward silence before he turned his attention to the ship. “…Where’d ye find a ‘Duff MacDuff’ galley?”

“A what?”

“A ‘Duff MacDuff’. The ship.” he said, nodding toward my pride and joy. “At least, I think it is. Looks like the one Mum had in’er study. Her’s was named the the ‘L.F. Raibeart Brus’. Canna really tell what yers is called from’ere.”

“Is…is it famous, or something?” I found myself asking.

“Oh aye, prob’ly one a’ the most famous ships, in a way. I know most a’ the story but it should be ‘nuff…if ye wanna hear it, that is. I doona wanna take up yer day.”

I looked at the envelope. The candles were still steady and the balloon was still filling up. The ropes and ballast were in place. The ship didn’t need to take off just yet.

I hoped.

“I’ve got the time.” I said. “So, what’s the deal with this ship?”

“‘Cordin’ tuh mum, ‘bout a century ago, Duff MacDuff made these galleys as novelty airships usin’ a spell called ‘Float’. ‘Cept Float isne what ye’d call a…stable spell, I guess is the right term. It’s one a’ those spells a crystal canna hold, at least not fer long. Yer meant tuh control whate’er yer Floatin’ yerself, if that makes any sense. Needs concentration tuh use it properly. No crystal can do that on its own.”

“Oh. I… I thought magic was easier than that here…” I admitted.

“Trust me, it isne. Take it from somebody who had tuh take Remedial Magical Theory in second’ry school.” the giant chuckled softly. “Practical tests were always manageable, but havin’ tuh ‘splain how it all works? Not m’best subject, really.”

“I was never great at art history myself. Sure, I could remember the names and dates but…no, I can’t say I cared WHY a piece was made or the skill needed or anything like that.”

Why was this happening? Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? He didn’t need to know this and I should be concentrating on getting out of there.

Did I miss meaningful conversation that much?

“So, erm, these were famous for making an impossible spell possible?” I asked anyway.

“That’s the worst part a’ the story. ‘Parently, MacDuff made these as prototypes so he could gain a military contract while makin’ money on the side. Proof that he had what it took. But the day he was meetin’ with Fathach’s generals tuh iron out the details, the news broke: the Duff MacDuff galleys had lost their Float spells. Turns out howe’er he made’em Float dinna last. Some think he did it on purpose so he could charge people tuh have Float cast on’em ‘gain.”

“Yikes. Famous for being a scam. Would never have imagined it.”

“Aye, that a’ course, but…mainly it’s rare tuh find a Duff MacDuff galley in one piece. ‘Least, not ones that havne been restored or pieced tuhgether from other Duffs.”

“Is…is it the materials or the construction that bad?” I squeaked out involuntarily. I had done my own inspections and was satisfied with the ship weeks before. Now, doubt was creeping in.

“Oh, no, these were well-crafted from the way mum told it.” he explained. “But somethin’ that flies suddenly losin’ its ‘bility tuh stay in the air…”

“Crashes. Lots of crashes, I take it? I can only imagine the public outcry.”

“The injury lawsuits an’ refunds drove MacDuff outta business an’ intuh bankruptcy. Made some legal changes tuh: new regulations fer testin’ spells an’ certificates needed an’ the like. Dinna wanna repeat a’ that disaster, that’s fer sure.”

“Yeah, we had similar things happen with toys as choking hazards and flame-retardant stuffed animals. Not fun.”

There was the briefest moment of surprise that passed his eyes at the statement. It didn’t take much to figure out why: the giants thought we were pets and pests for a reason after all. I could only assume they didn’t believe we were capable of anything more, that we had a society and laws and cultures of our own.

Maybe that was another reason I was so eager to get the airship working. Just to show them what I, what humans, could do.

“So, how long have ye been workin’ on this?” the giant asked. “I canna imagine it was easy.”

“I’ve been at it for a few weeks, I think. And, yes, it was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But…it’ll be worth it once we get in the air.”

“Do ye have e’erythin’ ye need fer yer flight? Food, water, a Jump…oh. Do ye need a Jumper Stone?”

“A what?”

“A Jumper Stone. It’s how I’ve been gettin’ ‘round. Most airships use’em in case uv’ emergencies. Tuh get people back on the ground.”

“Oh, I’ve made a parachute. It…should work well enough. I think.”

“…What’s a ‘parachute’?”

I couldn’t help it. I knew it was stupid to say or do anything to anger a giant. But still, I said it.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘WHAT’S A PARACHUTE’?!” I exclaimed, trying to comprehend what was just said. “Don’t you have parachutes here?!”

“Erm…”

“They’re strong pieces of fabric and rope we use to slow our descent when we jump out of pla-! When we jump out of aircrafts.”

“Ye use a SHEET an’ STRING tuh save yerselves from a crash?!” he asked, bewildered and aghast at the idea. “That’s mental!”

“You just said you rely on a ROCK! How is that any better?!”

“It’s…it’s a MAGIC rock!”

“One you said needs to be recharged! How is that reliable in an emergency?!”

“Oh, aye, ‘cuz a sheet full a’ holes woodne be worse?”

There was a moment I considered pushing the argument. But a glance at the ship was all I needed. The balloon was finally ready.

“To each their own, I guess.” I said, choosing instead to board my ship.

“…But it’ll work, right? Yer bedsheet, I mean.” he asked softly and, I would dare to say, earnestly.

“As well as your rock would.” I replied in kind.

“I wish I had m’camera. I wooda liked tuh take a picture befer ye cast-off.”

My long-dead mobile phone still sat in a pocket. If only there were a way to charge it, to turn it on and preserve this moment, at least.

“I wish you did too…”

“Is there anythin’ yer missin’? I might have somethin’ spare ye can use…”

There was a temptation to ignore him now that I was ready.

“Don’t suppose you have a moment to cast Float? Just in case?” I playfully asked.

“An’ water down yer achievement? Ne’er.”

“Heh! Well, I wouldn’t say no to a candle if you’ve got one. Otherwise, I think I’m all set.”

The giant -Colm- took a moment to take off his backpack and search through it. I’ll be honest, I hadn’t expected him to make a genuine effort.

Colm hesitated when he produced a pair of wax candles a moment later.

“Is it all right tuh get closer? Tuh load’em on, so tuh speak?”

I gripped my splinter sword again, just in case.

“Go ahead.”

He was slow and deliberate once more. The candles were set, ever so gently, on the deck of the ship. I waited until his hands were back at his side. It didn’t take much to store them below deck after that. I had prepared slots to store them, and the extra candles I’d had, to keep them in place during the trip. It took effort to keep them, and the rest of my cargo, balanced. I could only hope my first voyage wouldn’t be waylaid thanks to weight issues and loose items rolling around. By the time I stood on deck again, I was eager to set off.

Colm was still there, waiting patiently.

“We-well, this was a good talk but…I think it’s time we parted ways.” I awkwardly said, with as much strength as I could muster. “It…it was nice to meet you, Colm.”

“Aye, the same can be said ‘bout ye, Ostador.”

“Osta. You…you can call me Osta.”

“Thank ye, Osta. May Iansa keep the winds at yer back an’ may Loki keep yer path clear.”

I nodded my thanks. I had no idea who those people were, but I still felt the need to show my gratitude for the thought.

I then set myself before the wheel. There were no rudders to move, what with it being an airship and no water to turn in, but I had installed other things to help change my course. Several ropes connected to various parts of the ship; their knots were tied firmly along the wheel. The ballast was next, untying the various pieces of junk kept together to prevent the ship from sailing off as the envelope was filling. The anchors, large pieces of metal I’d recovered, were brought back onto the deck.

With that, the ship rose.

The balloon held steady as I started to float away. I turned back only once to see Colm waving me off, enthusiastic and sincere in his efforts. His once large form diminished the further I got and soon enough he, and her accursed apartment building, was out of sight.

An immense city to maneuver and explore was laid before me.

It all started out well enough. I kept myself high enough to avoid windows and the rooftops. Didn’t need to find myself in giant clutches once again just because I’d sailed too close to an inhabited building.

It was exhilarating. It was terrifying. It was all I wanted and more.

The sway of the ship as it sailed through the air. The creak of the ropes and the groan of the wheel as I set my course for the airfield. It would have been safer, and faster, to clear the city altogether. There was no need to navigate the town. I told myself that, at least for the first leg of the journey, keeping to the city meant more places to land if needed. Rooftops were closer for an emergency than the ground itself, of course.

I told myself it wasn’t selfish to show off. I didn’t believe it. Because it wasn’t true. I did want to show off. To set an example of what humans could do: that our ingenuity and tenacity could take us further than they gave us credit for.

High hopes and aspirations, I knew.

I would have to settle for at least one successful trip at least.

“OI! LOOKIT THAT!”

The giants were having some kind of gathering on their roof. Setting up decorations for…the coronation, I supposed. Lots of green and orange and white, that was for sure. A few turned to look but didn’t think anything of me and my ship.

It was impulsive. I waved. It was only then that they looked amazed.

“Holy shit! There’s a human in there!” one shouted as I passed. “Someone, get a picture! Quick!”

I didn’t turn to pose, but kept on my way. I wasn’t sure if they got the picture they wanted, but I could still hear their argument. It was nice to know some of these giants could be amazed by me.

The journey had been going well up until that point. It wasn’t until I passed a classroom that the turbulence first kicked in. The wind shifted and was working against me just then. It took all my knowledge and strength to keep myself steady. I was more concerned with keeping the candle lit and the envelope full. There was a moment when one of the ropes came loose and my port-side retractable ballast pole swung out. The weight had me lurch off my path and I found myself getting closer to the school building than I would’ve liked.

The classroom full of eager, fascinated, giant children made my blood freeze.

It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what would happen if they got their grubby little hands on me, or, worse, on my ship. I would’ve crashed through their window if I hadn’t let the next set of ropes loose in time.

The sails unfurled and caught the wind.

There was a mix of awe and disappointment and surprise and joy in their young voices as the wind carried me upwards and away. The sails acted as wings, bearing me higher and higher above the city’s rooftops.

When I reached a satisfactory height, I brought the sails and the poles they were attached to back in and against the ship. It wasn’t a hard decision to make: sailing above the city was the better choice after all. I’d had my fun.

The airfield wasn’t particularly busy. Or at least, not as busy as I was expecting it to be. The only comparison that made sense would be, of course, an airport. There were plenty of airships docked, but not many seemed to be landing or taking off. Not sure how often these crafts were used or what their schedules were like. There were railroad tracks and a station within view, the trains noticeable by their smoke trails and resounding horns as they blared. Perhaps the giants worked on a staggered schedule for transportation: whatever they used for power needed to be recharged and maintained after all. They probably didn’t want to breakdown in the middle of a route…or in mid-air.

As I got closer, it was easier to distinguish the airship I had been watching for months.

The new, apparently royal, airship looked even more magnificent than I’d imagined. It loomed over the other ships as it sat there. I could see workers on scaffolding, still working on it. Painters or varnishers or the like, I wasn’t sure. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure how regular ships were made, let alone airships in a giant world full of magic.

I decided taking a few passes around the ship would be enough to sate my curiosity. For the moment. Finding a place to land, perhaps, set up camp for the time being, felt like a good idea. Tweak and fix whatever needed to be done. Decide on another destination. If I had another destination. Scavenging would be a possibility. Would give me time to see how the inner workings of an airfield and their ships actually worked.

That was the plan. That should’ve been the plan. Until the wind changed again.

There was something different about the shift this time. Harder, more violent, than before. It was all I had to keep myself on the deck itself. Everything was shaking too hard to do much. As I turned to release the wing sails again, in the hopes of steering myself out of the dangerous current, my stomach dropped.

The candle was out. The fire was gone.

Stepping away from the wheel wasn’t possible, not without falling to my doom. But I thought I was still all right: the balloon shouldn’t lose too much air right away.

Unless one of my patches came loose.

“Oh no…” I groaned as I watched the piece of stupid fabric flap in the wind.

The swears came steadily and rapidly after that. I managed to catch the attention of a few of the workers as I started my descent. Some of them tried to make a catch but the airship was always just out of their reach.

Then one of the ropes snapped.

A wing sail flew out, sending me closer to the airship. The turn was so sudden and so sharp, I thought every bone in my body would snap. Death was certain. Should have been certain. It was by the Grace of God or sheer dumb luck that the window was open. It was a miracle the airship even fit.

The landing was a disaster. At least, so I was told.

I woke up to voices in the dark. Everything hurt, but nothing seemed broken. No bleeding, at least not that I could tell. I was in one piece.

“Surprised tuh see one a’ these out an’ ‘bout.”

Oh no.

“Haven’t seen one of these in public since I got mine a few years back.” another voice added.

“Really now? Auction or the like?” the first, and older, voice asked.

“Estate or Fire Sale. Slightly singed, but still.”

“Hmm. A shame to see this one in such a state though. See’re-?”

“LEAVE IT ALONE!”

The scream was a surprise even to myself.

“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH IT!” I continued to yell. In an instant I was on my feet, hands stretched out to find my way in the surrounding shadows.

A bright light stopped me in my tracks. When my vision adjusted, I was met with a giant pair of brown eyes.

“Le-leave…leave my ship alone…” I threatened, fists raised. Sure, they were shaking. But still. Had to do something.

“This is your ship then?” the eyes, the giant, asked. I couldn’t tell if her tone was genuine or sarcastic. “And how’d you come across it?”

“It…it was in a pile of rubbish.”

“A Duff MacDuff, thrown ‘way? Prepost’rous. Shameful, at that.” the older voice added. “Almost as bad as one desecrated like this.”

I wasn’t sure what made me snap: hearing the insult or the sound of something falling off my ship.

“DESECRATED?!” I yelled. “I made that pile of overrated kindling fly again! And without any of your stupid magic, even!”

“Really? You did this all on your own?” the eyes asked again, before I could yell again. “What tools did you use? Where were you? Where did you find the MacDuff, exactly?”

I was tempted to answer her questions. I really was. But another part thought she hadn’t earned the answers. Not when I was still trapped.

“As fascinatin’ as I’m sure the tale might be, I need this…mess outta m’office. I’ve meetin’s tuh attend an’ I doona wanna take more outta m’day fer this.” the other voice interrupted, clearly irritated. “Dispose uv’em at yer discretion.”

“Sir?” the eyes asked.

“…I doona like the idea uv’a human infestation on m’ship befer she e’en gets intuh the air.”

“Don’t let the High Lord, I mean, the King, hear you say that. He has a human of his own, you know.”

“Doona remind me. I’m dreadin’ the walkthrough fer that ‘lone. Dismissed.”

“Aye, Captain.” the eyes said, lifting the box -no, the rubbish bin- I was trapped under and setting it aside. There was a moment I almost made a run for it. Better an attempt to escape then have them believe I would yield so quickly. Yet, I had to: the thought of leaving my hard work behind was heartbreaking.

It didn’t help her hand was closer than I expected. I flinched when it got too close.

“Easy there, big guy.” she said as she reached for me. I tensed up expecting to feel monstrously large fingers wrap themselves around me again. It came as a slight shock to see her offer a flat palm instead. Not that I took the offer. She ended up scooping me up anyway. “I got you.”

Sort of the problem, isn’t it? I thought to myself. I didn’t find myself able to talk until we were far from the captain’s office.

“Please…please don’t…don’t kill me…” I said, eyes fixated on the ship she held beneath her arm. It looked like it was barely keeping itself in one piece. “Or…or at least…don’t throw out the ship. Please.”

The giant looked both ways before pushing against a door.

“I’m not going to throw away your ship.” she reaffirmed as she set it on a table in the room. “And I’m not going to kill a human, let alone one who got a Duff MacDuff to fly again without magic.”

I was starting to think these giants didn’t have a basic concept of science. Or, if they did, it was ignored.

“I’m going to grab something to eat. I know I’m starved at least.” she said, before placing me in -what I assumed to be- an overhead compartment. The door to keep the contents safe was odd: it was more like reinforced chicken wire instead of a solid door.

I was in a cage. Again.

“I’ll check for some spare supplies too, spruce up your new place…well, temporary place, at least. I’m sure I can convince the captain this isn’t necessary.” she stated, locking the door in place. The bars separated us now. “Worse comes to worst, you’ll only be in there for a week at best. Maybe two. Then you can head home with me, yeah?”

I couldn’t bring myself to say the cutting remark I had in mind. My heart sank with the rest of me, as I picked a far corner to sit in.

I was going to have to start all over again, wasn’t I?

“I won’t be too long. I’ll see you in a bit.”

The cabin door closed behind her. Only to open again seconds later.

“Ankou take me, I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself properly.” She said as she made her way to “my place” again. “I’m Talia McCallen, currently the head shipwright and interior designer for the L. F. Taistealaí. Who might you be?”

“…Ostador.” I eventually answered.

“Nice to meet you, Ostador. You can call me Tali if you like. What’s your favorite color?”

“What?”

“Your favorite color. So, I can make your stuff more personalized.”

There was a moment where I almost insulted her instead.

“Seaweed green.”

It was nice to finally hear someone ask.

“Nice! We’ve plenty of blue but green shouldn’t be too hard to create. Back in a bit, for real this time!”

I found myself still hating my circumstances again. Just…not hating it as much as I did before. It was still humiliating and unnerving and demoralizing, but at least Talia was making an effort.

It was still a terrible situation. But small efforts made it easier. Especially when it came to the ship.

“Oi, Ostador, can you do me a favor?” Talia asked on the second day. I wasn’t in a speaking mood, hadn’t been since I crashed and was caught again. But I turned towards her and acknowledged her existence, at least.

“I just need you to touch this stone for me.” she said as she brought the stone closer. It was triangular and fir easily on the palm of her hand.

I hesitated. Just because it looked like a stone didn’t mean that’s what it truly was. I’d seen magic stored in similar stones, after all.

“It’s for the ship. I can explain after you touch it.”

I gulped hard. And touched the stone, expecting the worst. I felt her pull the stone away after a moment.

“Thanks, Ostador. Here, take a look!” she said.

I watched from the cage-luggage rack as she stepped over to where the ship, my ship, still sat. Talia placed the stone down, followed by three others. She set each one at a corner so it surrounded the vessel. There was a brief flash of shimmer after she tapped the closest stone.

“Ready?” she asked, looking towards me for confirmation.

I nodded, worried more about her plans for my ship. I hadn’t laid a hand on it since the crash but…neither had Talia. Until now. When she passed a hand over the stone barrier, the shimmer appeared, but allowed her to pass. So far, so…odd. A light show, nothing more.

Until she picked up one of her books. Talia gave it a shake, to catch my attention apparently, before she threw it at the ship.

“NO!” I screamed.

I thought the ship was done for. That the book would ruin all my hard work even further. Except…the book bounced harmlessly against the shimmer.

“Wha…?”

“The only people who can touch this ship, to move these stones, are me…and now, you.” Talia explained as she replaced the book on a shelf. “Whenever you’re feeling ready to work on it again, that is.”

The thought of working on my ship with anyone else, let alone a giant, felt…conflicting. It would mean having her mammoth mitts on all my efforts and tinkering where they shouldn’t…but it also meant the chance of flying again.

“Tha…thanks…” I replied.

Hopefully, that would be enough for Talia. For now.

I had played the waiting game before, after all. Talia and, I suppose, my stay on the royal airship wouldn’t last much longer. Once the high lord, the king, whoever, performed the christening ceremony and made his inspection, we’d be moving back to her own flat.

Moving day would be dreadful but necessary.

At least that time around, I knew there’d be more consideration. Talia had kept to her word and made my imprisonment more bearable. It almost seemed like a proper place to live this time: a better bed, an armchair, and a bookshelf full of copies of her own collection. All in a seaweed green color scheme, as asked. Watching her magically split new books one by one, only to shrink them down was, frankly, mesmerizing. And appreciated, to be honest. Talia had done more for me in 24 hours than she had done in weeks. A step above the pet shop, even.

I had to remind myself not to get comfortable.

“Do you want the wireless on?” Talia asked a few days later. It was still early in the day and I was barely awake. “Or do you think you’re up to listening with the rest of the lads?”

Guzzling an entire pot of coffee would never have the same effect the thought of being surrounded by a whole group of giants did to jolt me awake.

Talia didn’t need an answer.

“Never you mind, I can tell. I’ll keep it going for you. It’s Coronation Day and the first king of Fathach’s going to broadcast his speech later on. No reason to miss out on history, yeah?”

“Yeah…history…” I replied.

“Need anything else before I head off?”

A way out of this cage. A way out of this world. A way home.

“No, thank you.” I said instead.

I tried to read and formulate plans while Talia was gone. The wireless was welcome company, even if the only chatter between songs and programs were concerned with the royal coronation. It was unusual yet comforting to hear familiar opinions on royals. There were no punches pulled about the apparently sudden shift to a monarchy. Opinions about the ruling family were varied, but seemed in favor of them. The idea of Ireland attempting to crown a king or queen after years of democratic elections made me laugh. There would be riots for days, if not a full-blown revolution.

It made me miss home all the more.

I didn’t pay the wireless much mind otherwise. Decent background noise as I contemplated the best ways to improve the ship. Thought I recognized a few of the voices that spoke but to be honest the giants’ accents all seemed to blur together after some time.

The king started his speech soon enough, and all sounded like your typical politician’s prattle. Something about unity and expectations, but no definite change in policies.

“E’eryone in Fathach has a right tuh live their lives tuh the fullest. Tuh the best a’ their ‘bility.” the king rambled on.

“Yeah, right.” I replied absently, still concentrated on my book.

“They should have the same opportunities tuh succeed…no matter their race. No matter their creed. No matter their magical skill. No matter their station. No matter their religion.” the king continued.

“And no matter their size?” I interjected sarcastically.

“An’…no matter their size.” the king confirmed.

The gasps were barely audible over the wireless, but my own was loud and clear. The king finished up his broadcast and the regular radio hosts quickly began their own commentary afterwards.

The pounding footsteps were ignored until the door swung open, jolting me out of my thoughts.

“Did you hear?! Did you hear what he SAID?!” Talia asked once she was inside. “Do you know what this means?”

“I…I don’t…I don’t know?” I asked, more out of shock than anything else. My thoughts were all over the place at the moment.

“ME NEITHER! Isn’t that great?”

The coronation and the now infamous speech were the talk of the ship up until the christening ceremony. I was supposed to spend the day packing while the captain and his crew attended to the king during his visit. Not that I’d had much else to do anyway.

“This might be our last day here, unless the king wants anything changed.” Talia explained as she got dress ready. She didn’t have a lot in the cabin in the first place. The rooms had been temporary lodgings for the crews as they worked on the grand ship. “Otherwise, we’ll be good to head home to Edinberry.”

“Right.” I replied, packing what few things I had.

“This commission should keep us going for a while. Plenty of time to fix up your ship and send you on your way.”

“…What?”

“Wasn’t exactly hard to figure out you don’t like it here. Not going to keep you longer than is necessary, big guy.”

There was almost a moment where I wanted to believe her. Especially after the king’s speech. I didn’t want to have too much hope.

“…Right.” I eventually replied.

I would still keep my plans close to my chest. Just in case.

“Back in a bit. Gonna make sure to sneak us some of the good food. There’s supposed to be a massive seven-layer apple cake, from what I hear.”

Once she left, I settled myself back on the couch. Reading no longer had an appeal. The king of the country was on that very ship. The same king that allowed humans to be treated like critters to be kept or cast out. The same king who wanted to change that.

The same king that deserved a few choice words from me. From any Human, really. But I’d want to be at the front of the line.

I didn’t realize I’d dozed off until the door slammed open.

“Ostador! Get dressed!” Talia exclaimed as she entered the room. Her attention was on my ship as I shot up off the couch. “The king wants to meet you!”

“He…what?” I asked, still in a daze.

“We were talking -the king, the captain, and me- and your crash landing came up and the king wanted to see you but the captain said you were gone days ago but I said you were still here and the captain is pretty mad but now that the king knows you’re still here he wants to talk to you personally!” she explained, carefully removing the stone protection barrier from around my airship. She mumbled some kind of spell under her breath. No pieces seemed to fall off or shift as she lifted it off the table. “Captain wasn’t eager to have the celebration interrupted but when the king says he wants to meet someone and their Duff MacDuff, you don’t say no, you know?”

“Right…” I replied.

Holy shit. This was it. I was going to meet the king. Meet him, and give him the earful of a lifetime.

“…Is that what you’re wearing?” Talia asked after a moment.

“What do you expect me to wear? Coattails and a top hat?”

“There has to be something slightly better in your wardrobe, I’m sure?”

“Oh yes, let me just check my massive walk-in closet for my ‘Meeting Royals’ regalia, I’m sure my butler has it pressed and ready to wear.”

“…All right. I think I can grab a spare ship uniform. Or the slacks and a shirt at least. What’s your size?”

“46 trousers, large shirt?”

Talia was gone and back before I knew it. As soon as I was changed, we were off. About half way through our walk, the nerves started to set in. We were about to meet royalty. Even Talia was getting nervous, as she kept prattling on about not being nervous.

Needless to say, it didn’t help either of us.

A pair of guards, or so I assumed by their uniforms, stood outside an ornate door. One opened it as the other entered behind us. The room was stately but not as large as I figured it would be. Not kilometers long, at least. A table and chairs were provided, set with drinks, hors d’oeuvres, and canapes. Talia was careful to set me down beside the plate before placing the ship close by.

There was a temptation to run toward the ship, toward my Duff MacDuff, and never leave it again. But the hors d’oeuvres plate called to me.

“Do you need me to Diminish any or…?” Talia softly asked.

“No, I’m good.” I replied, breaking off a piece of cracker and scooping it into the pâté that sat on it. It wasn’t the best I’d ever had but it was still pretty good. I hoped it was enough to settle my stomach.

Especially when I noticed we weren’t alone in the opulent room. In each corner was another guard, all standing stoically and waiting patiently. Made sense, I suppose. You’d want to make sure the room is secure and safe before royalty arrived for an impromptu meeting.

The wait felt like an eternity. Talia and I found ourselves pacing the room -or in my case, the table- soon enough. Maybe the king had changed his mind. Maybe this was the set-up for an elaborate prank. Maybe we were about to die for…reasons I couldn’t think of at that moment.

Maybe I was waiting for disappointment whatever the case might be.

Talia and I froze in our tracks when the door creaked open.

“Good afternoon.” the man stated as he entered. He was quick to make his way to the table and knelt down before me. I had to admit, seeing his large crisscrossed scar up close made me step back. It wasn’t until he leaned his arm on the table that I saw them.

The first pair of humans I’d seen since the pet shop.

“Captain Michael MacKenzie, Arcadia Guard.” one of them said, reaching out their hand in greeting. “This is my Second Lieutenant, Phelan Fleming. Tall, dark, and brooding behind us is General Dorian Stryfe. Who might you be?”

“Ostador. Ostador Fogg.” I answered absentmindedly, shaking Phelan’s hand when it was offered. His eyes were light compared to his dark skin, and I found myself lost in them.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Fogg.” he stated, his voice smooth and kind. He smiled with perfect teeth gleaming. “Or might I call you Ostador?”

“Osta is good too…”

“Your ship is very interesting. You did all the work yourself?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, I didn’t erm, build the actual ship, but the rest…the rest is me.”

“…I’m afraid I’ll need my hand back if we’re to inspect your ship, Osta.”

“Yeah, of – what? No! Oi, no!” I said, finally snapping out of my daze. I turned to see the other one, Captain Mac-something, reaching for the ladder. I smacked his hand away before he could start climbing. “No one is ‘inspecting’ this ship if I can help it!”

There was a moment as Phelan and the other one considered each other.

“How do you want to play this one, General?” MacGregor, or whatever, eventually asked.

“Oh, what, plan on arresting me for manhandling an ‘officer’?” I interrupted before the giant general could respond. “Humans suddenly rise to that level on the social ladder, have we?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure ye will someday.”

The interjection came from a new, but familiar, voice. He was dressed well enough, his dirty blond hair tied back and almost out of his eyes that time. It still took me longer to recognize him than I probably should have.

“Wait…Roof Guy? Callum…Colin?”

“‘Roof Guy’?” the general asked with a raised brow.

“Colm. Close though.” he said, taking a seat. He produced a box, and moved its pieces around until a table and chairs were made. “Please, have a seat, Ostador.”

I begrudgingly left the ship, still glaring at McKillroy as a warning. Phelan at least seemed content to look with his eyes and not with his hands.

“I’m glad tuh see ye made it in one piece.” Colm said, as I took a seat. An engineering part of me wanted to inspect the table and chair to see how it worked, but I ignored it. For that moment. “More or less.”

“Yeah, it was going well until…well, it didn’t…” I explained.

“Was it somethin’ I coulda helped with when we met?” he asked. His face actually fell at the thought.

“No, no it wasn’t anything you could’ve helped. The wind just…I miscalculated or got stuck in a slipstream. Unless you can control the wind.”

There was a split second when the worst thought crossed my mind.

“…Can you control the wind?”

“Heh. If I could, I’d’ve been able tuh ‘void a few notable kilt incidents, lemme tell ye.” he chuckled. His tone returned to normal with a look and a cough from the giant general. “…But perhaps those’re stories fer ‘nother day. I’m actually here tuh ask ye a question.”

“And what might that be?”

“How would ye like tuh make more airships?”

I waited for the punchline. Waited for this moment to fall apart. Waited for the overbearing giant laughter at the “human aviator” to echo in the room.

“…Are you serious?” I asked. I made my voice as steady and unfeeling as I could make it. I wasn’t about to fall for whatever they had in mind. My eyes kept to his face, waiting for any sign he was about to break.

“A’ course.” he simply replied.

If he was lying, he was doing a good job of it.

“And why would you want me to make you more airships? Want to recreate Duff’s disaster for a new generation?”

“Erm, Ostador, maybe-?” Talia tried to interrupt, but I wouldn’t let her.

“Or perhaps you’d like to see more humans in the sky as a novelty? ‘Oh look, how cute! Humans think they can fly! How silly, how idiotic, how droll.’”

Colm’s face didn’t change after my rant. He had a better poker face than I expected.

“I was thinkin’ more like an alternate mode a’ transportation fer humans tuh get ‘round the cities an’ e’en the country. Not sure ‘bout crossin’ the oceans but I doona have tuh know ‘how’ fer that anyway.”

“You still haven’t answered why.”

“Doona s’pose ye heard the king’s speech the other day?”

“Yes.”

“An’ know what it meant?”

“…Yes.”

“Change is comin’ an’ I’d like tuh make it happen sooner rather than later, if I can. An’ that means findin’ the right people fer the right jobs. People like ye.”

“And what makes you think I’m the right person?”

“Osta, ye took a pile a’ scrap an’ a broken toy ship, spent weeks buildin’ it intuh somethin’ new when ye coulda spent that time fortifyin’ a new home, an’ ye flew. Without magic.”

“…It’s not exactly difficult if you know-!”

“That’s m’point! Ye do know! Ye do know an’ yer clearly passionate ‘bout this sort a’ thing. If yer not right fer this, no one is.”

There was a moment I wanted to believe him. He seemed very passionate about this himself. Like he wasn’t lying.

“What sort of compensation should I expect for doing all this?” I asked eventually. “I assume you didn’t think I’d do any of this for free?”

“A’ course not. Is there anythin’ specific ye had in mind?”

“Money. A salary. Standard for any job, really.”

“Still workin’ out the kinks uv’a comp’rable future economy.” he replied, finally starting to look uncomfortable. “But it would come in due time.”

“A comparable economy? That mean your lot are working on more than just freeing humans?”

“Aye. Slowly, a’ course. Doona wanna make it hard fer humans tuh build a life without some kinda foundation.”

“Equal rights?”

“Workin’ on it.”

“Areas to travel, to live safely?”

“Workin’ on it.”

“No more humans coming over through magic?”

“That is somethin’ the world’s best thaumaturgists have been workin’ on fer centuries, I’m afraid.”

I gave myself a moment to consider his words. To decide if his words had any weight to them. I needed more.

“So, you’re expecting me to just…what? Hop on board with working for giants, for free, for God knows how long?” I asked with an exasperated sigh.

“It’s why we’re askin’ as a voluntary position. We know it will be tough goin’ fer a while yet.”

“What happens if I refuse? You’ll snatch me up and press-gang me into service anyway?”

“No. We back off, respect yer decision. Maybe we wait tuh ask ye ‘gain when plans are more finalized. If we can find ye ‘gain. If yer still interested. An’ if yer still not, well…I s’pose we start the search fer someone else.”

It was all sounding too good to be true. Too easy. Too much like…naivety. But…maybe…

“…I want to hear this from him. I want to hear the king himself say he wants to change how things are. That humans don’t deserve to be pets or pests anymore. Then I’ll give you an answer about this…position.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as Colm stared, his ridiculous eyebrows raised in surprise. A groan was heard from the giant general when he turned to look at him.

“Colm, please just-!” the giant general began.

“No, no. He has a point. Let’s get the king in here.” Colm interrupted, with a broad smile. “We’ll be right back with the king, Osta.”

The pair exited the room without another word.

“Ostador, that was-!” Talia tried to explain, once the door closed behind them. She was interrupted when the giant general reentered the room.

“May I present his royal majesty, Colm Matthew Alexander Brian Arcadi, Magistrate of Arcadia, High Lord of all Fathach, High Commander of her forces, Defender of her peoples, first king of Fathach, by the grace of the Gods, long may he reign.” he introduced, clearly exasperated and on the verge of snapping.

Colm entered the room, retook his seat, and locked eyes with me once more.

“Hullo!” he said, smile broad and eyes bright. “I am doin’ m’best tuh change how things are. That humans doona deserve tuh be pets or pests anymore, an’ I hope ye can help me pave the way for a better, brighter future fer all.”

A pin could’ve dropped like a ton of bricks in that moment.

“…You’re taking the piss.” I finally said.

“If this is how your reign is going to be, I may just retire early.” the general sighed.

“This whole time? You’ve been the king THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

“No, just fer the last few days. ‘High Lord’ befer that.” he, Colm, -the KING- explained. “I thought ye knew. That’s what I get fer not doin’ proper introductions right off the bat.”

“My apologies, M’Lord, I should’ve mentioned it before you got here…” Talia stated.

“It’s all right. So…what do ye think?”

“If I agree to this…what exactly do you expect me to…well, do?”

“Design, build, add yer input tuh makin’ human-sized an’ operated airships. Ye’ll prob’ly start by makin’ one fer our human guard in Arcadia.” Colm clarified. “Yer livin’ quarters an’ workshop would be there as well.”

I admit, the idea of my own workshop piqued my interest. My own place to build and design and work. To come up with my own escape plans if this whole thing went pear-shaped. I took a moment to glance at Talia. She had been quiet for most of the conversation, but I could feel her fidget with each question I asked. I couldn’t tell if they were good signs or not.

“…Are there any…problems we’d have tuh resolve befer ye give an answer?” Colm calmly asked, now looking at Talia as well.

“What do you mean by…oh! Oh, no, m’lord!” Talia began, her nerves shot again. “Ostador has been, erm, under my care but I’m not…there’s nothing legally keeping him here. He not registered under my name or anything.”

Registered. I was registered. If this really was a ticket out of that, I should I take it, shouldn’t I?

“There…there is something like that. Would…will you take me back?”

“Do ye wanna go back?”

“NO.”

I surprised myself with how loud and forcefully I’d answered.

“N-no. No, I don’t want to go back. Never, if I can help it.” I stated.

“Then ye woona go back. E’er. We’ll see tuh it.” Colm confirmed. “I promise.”

I almost believed him.

“If ye need more time tuh consider it, it’s fine.” Colm said after a moment. “I just wanted tuh make the offer while we were both in the same place.”

“The ship comes with me. No matter what, that ship stays with me even if it means claiming a finger or two! Yes, even if you ARE the king.”

“Heh. I woodne expect any less.”

There I was, sitting and waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’d be getting a workshop to build my own ship -my own ships- without having to worry about going back to her again.

And I’d get to know this Phelan better. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. I should take it.

Shouldn’t I?

“Fine, let’s give it a shot.”

“Glad tuh hear it. We can discuss this further if need be ‘nother time. I still have this tour tuh finish an’ all.” Colm replied as he rose from his seat. “We’ll see each other soon. Stryfe will take care a’ the rest fer now. Good day, Osta.”

Colm, the king, was gone before I knew it.

“If you’re ready to go, we can leave now. I’m sure you’ll want to get settled in while you can.” the general, Stryfe, said.

“Wait!” Talia quickly interjected.

Oh no. I should’ve known. She wouldn’t have tried anything in front of the king.

As I raised my hands up in defense, it came as a slight shock to find Phelan’s hand on my shoulder and MacKenzie in front, acting as a shield.

“Don’t you want your stuff? Your clothes, the books?” she added, either ignoring the gesture or oblivious to it.

“Oh. Oh, yes, I…I guess I do…” I stammered.

“Then I’ll be right back!” Talia said, before running out of the room.

I took the time to examine the ship. It had been too long since I’d seen her up close. It wasn’t a complete disaster but a lot of patches and fixes I’d originally made were damaged. A lot of it had been difficult to fix in the first place. At least the second time around, I’d have access to the right parts and tools.

“So, how did you come across this ship, anyway?” Phelan asked, as he sidled up next to me.

“Oh, um, it was…ah…garbage. It was in a pile of garbage.” I answered, trying to get the words out.

“You were lucky to find something like this in such great shape. I can’t wait to work on it with you.”

“Hahaha ha ha…ye-yeah, me too…”

Talia returned quickly enough, clothes and books and other knick-knacks that were part of my entrapment. She helped load them onto the ship while MacKenzie, Phelan, and I stashed them below deck.

“Oh, and one last thing…” Talia said, handing me what looked like an oversized poster board or novelty cheque.

“Is this…your business card?” I asked once I looked it over properly.

“Hey, you never know if you might need some advice, or opinions, or to just…you know, chat. Backup, maybe, if you need it.”

“Thank you. Really. I…I’ll be sure to keep it safe.”

“That’s all I ask.”

We braced ourselves as Stryfe carefully lifted the ship. I waved Talia one last farewell before we, inexplicably, were teleported off and away from the royal ship. There was actual joy in seeing her return the gesture.

My time with the Arcadian Human Guard was…well, not what I expected.

While it was true I’d have my own living quarters, they were still shared with the rest of the human guards. Flashbacks to Benson, the pet shop, and even her place kept coming to mind. The others were patient with me at least. Most of them knew what I had been through. I was sure to meet more in the future. Hopefully not too many more, if the king was honest about his intentions.

Working alongside Phelan was a delight.

Our workshops were close together. It turned out Phelan had his own projects outside of “working” with the human and giant guards. All of them involving magic and how to apply them for human use.

“I’ve been experimenting with different crystal shapes and formations.” He explained once. “My theory is a crystal’s shape, density, and structure can affect how well a spell keeps hold inside it. I was hoping you’d let me test out an alternate power source for your ship.”

“How do you mean?” I asked, looking over his own bookcase. It was full of magical-sounding texts and theories, as well as geology and crystal encyclopedias as well.

“Instead of candles to provide the necessary elevation, we might be able to use specialized Heat crystals instead. Similar to how the Tergaian airships stay aloft. Wouldn’t have to worry about the fire going out, at least.”

Phelan was helpful. And smart. And curious. And cute.

“Y-yeah, I don’t see why not.” I replied.

“Ostador? It’s almost time for your appointment.”

I gulped hard as Stryfe started dialing a nearby phone.

“You can still back out if you want.” he mentioned as he was put on hold. “You don’t need to go if you’d rather stay here.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” I said, setting aside my work apron and tools. “I’d…I’d rather face this head on.”

“All right, understood. Phelan will be going with you, just in case. The second you want to leave-!”

“I’ll be right there to Jump us out.” Phelan said, putting on his uniform coat. “Of course, General.”

“They’re ready if you are.” Stryfe said into the phone receiver, his hand raised in anticipation. He gestured to us soon enough. “They’re on their way.”

With a simple squeeze from a magic-imbued stone chip, we were out of the Arcadian Guard Station. It took a moment for the world to settle down. I didn’t think I would ever get used to Jumper Stones. Or teleportation in general. Being on solid ground, even if it was just an enormous desk, helped.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Fogg.” the giant warmly greeted. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too, Mr. Manchester.”

Wallace Manchester was part of the Arcadian City Hall and was in charge of its license and permit regulatory commission. If you needed a permit to host a parade or needed to know how legal it was to build on your land. He was the man to see. He was also in charge of pet licenses and registrations. Including human licenses. Including mine.

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to participate. I’ll speak for you and state your case. If anything has changed, now is the time to tell me.”

“No, nothing’s changed. I just…I just want this officially settled.” I replied after a moment.

“Then if you’re ready?” he asked, his finger on his intercom. Wallace pressed it once I gave my nod. “All right, Chelsea. Send them in.”

I thought I was strong. I thought I was confident. I thought I was certain of myself. My stomach still turned when the door opened.

When she entered.

Parvati was with her as well. Both seemed somber enough. At least, until she caught sight of me.

“Oh! You found him!” she exclaimed. “We’ve been so worried about him!”

I took a step back as she tried to reach for me. Phelan was quick to get between me and her. Wallace made sure she didn’t take another step.

“Miss, please take a seat.” he told her sternly. He returned to his seat as she and Parvati took theirs. “You were contacted about your missing human complaint.”

“Yes, of course, and you found him. I thought this was just…I dunno, a formality. Thought I’d be reclaiming him at the Kirkfries City Hall, to be honest.”

“It is a formality, but not in the way you think.”

“If this is about a fine, I’ll be happy to pay it to have him back. He’s been gone for so long and I’ve missed him SO much!”

“Yeah, right…” I muttered under my breath.

“There is no fine that needs to be paid, Miss. The fact of the matter is, you have no legal say here.”

“What are you talking about? He’s my human!”

“According to the record, no, he isn’t. While he was rightfully registered by the Petville pet shop, and ownership was temporarily transferred to you, you never officially registered him under your name.”

“Are you serious?!” Parvati hissed in irritation. It wasn’t the first time she had forgotten something important.

“And because you never registered him or renewed the license, the temporary one expired. He wouldn’t be considered ‘yours’ even a little bit. Your missing human complaint was filed long after the permits expired and long after you…‘noticed’ him missing.”

“But…but he’s mine! I paid for him, cared for him! He must miss me as much as much as I miss him!”

“What’s my name?!” I finally blurted out, barely able to hold back my anger.

“What?” she replied, a bit shocked to hear me speak up. It was a delight to see her flinch.

“What’s. My. Name.”

“It’s…I mean, I never gave-!”

“What’s my favorite color? My favorite snack? My favorite anything?”

I took more pleasure in watching her fumble for an answer than I probably should have. I continued when she couldn’t bother to reply.

“How can you claim to care so much about me when you don’t even know my damn name?”

“Which says a lot about your level of human care and welfare.” Wallace interrupted before she could speak again. “It is my conclusion, given the clear evidence of neglect and irresponsibility, that you have no legal claim to Ostador. It is also decided that you will be banned from procuring a human license for a minimum of five years.”

“What?! You can’t-! This isn’t fair! It’s not right!” she exclaimed.

“You have the opportunity to appeal this decision in court or on the next Grievance Day, but I can assure you now that you will have no leg to stand on. Please have a good afternoon.”

Parvati had to drag her out of the room as she swore up a storm, promising all sorts of legal disputes and a few threats thrown in for flavor. I didn’t spare her a second look when she finally said my name.

“What…what would’ve happened if…if she did…” I tried to ask after everything had calmed down.

“We’d still find some way to keep you here and away from her.” Wallace stated as he put the paperwork away. “Your reluctance did factor into how I decided on things and which loopholes to look for.”

“And if there were no loopholes to manipulate? Or a human actually wanted to go back with…with their…”

Wallace let the question hang. Or ignored it. I couldn’t tell.

“Hopefully such things will no longer be necessary, if we’re lucky.” he stated instead.

Phelan and I chose to return to the guard station and our workshops shortly thereafter. We were quiet for the rest of the afternoon, but I was getting nowhere with my work. My hands kept shaking and I wasn’t sure why.

“…Do you want to talk about it?” Phelan eventually asked.

“YES.” I blurted out, dropping a compass in the process. The blueprints would need to be reworked again anyway. “…Yes, I’d like to talk about it.”

Phelan had a kettle on and poured us tea. It was oddly comforting to see the hot plate or, rather, the crystal, glow and hum as it heated -Heated- the kettle.

“I don’t…I thought I’d be all right after that. But even now, I’m still just…waiting for something to go wrong. That I’ll…that I’ll be back with her again.”

“You feel like you’re going to lose everything you’ve worked for any minute now.” Phelan added.

“Yeah, exactly. I mean, back home there were tough times and I won’t pretend it was easy, but the stakes feel so much…bigger, here.”

“They are. I don’t…I don’t know what Earth is like, and I don’t suppose I ever will but…I want to do what I can to make here better, even if only a little bit at a time.”

“…What was it like, growing up here?”

Phelan took a moment to steady himself and drain his cup before he continued.

“I don’t…I don’t have the same frame of reference as you do so I’m not…I know it was a different experience. That our lives aren’t…weren’t comparable.” Phelan began, setting his cup aside. “The man…the man I lived with, he practically raised me. Taught me everything I know about magic and how it worked. I thought…for the longest time, I was happy. I thought I meant as much to him as he meant to me. But as soon as I got older…as I got better at reading, and studying, and theorizing, he grew colder and colder. Until one day he decided I was…I guess he thought I was too smart. Decided I was better off living somewhere else. Those days in the human shelter were some of the worst of my life. There were times I thought it would’ve been kinder if he’d just killed me instead. Because all I could think about was what I did wrong. What I did to make him hate me. I never thought…I thought we were happy. I thought he’d be proud.”

“He sounds like a complete arsehole.” I commented softly. More softly than the bastard deserved.

“Yes. Yes, he was. And it took me so long to realize that. And I feel so…so stupid.” he replied. “I’m…I hate to say it, I’m glad your…that person was never kind to you from the start. At least you always knew she was bad.”

“I don’t think she could have said or done anything to change my mind anyway. I had a life before and I can’t pretend it never happened. Having to go from a person to a thing to having to gain personhood again is…it sucks. I hate it. I hate how easily this can all fall apart and I’ll be…I’ll be a pet again. I can’t…I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“I can’t either. I…I like working as a Guard. I like the friends I’ve made. Friends. I’ve never had human friends before! And I get to work on my own projects! I get to…I get to find out who I am. Who I can be. Who I want to be.”

“Yeah, it’s good to have that again after so long…”

“It’s why I jumped at the chance to be a Guard when the General came all those months ago. Not because I thought he was going to change the world right away. It was because he asked. He didn’t pick and choose and grab. He simply…asked. After years of being told and taken and dismissed, it just…it felt like a nice change of pace. And look where we are now!”

Phelan made a grand gesture to our surroundings. Bits and bobs to the giants were normal sized tools and materials to us. Dioramas to them were space separators to us. A corner of one of their back offices was a living space to us.

“I know it doesn’t seem like much, but this…this is more than I could’ve hoped for. And knowing there are others like me, like you, who can, who WILL make things better? It gives me hope for a brighter future. One I never would’ve dreamed of before.”

Phelan reached forward and grabbed my hands, tenderly.

“I don’t know what will come next. But I’m glad you’re here and I’m glad you’re with me. Whatever happens, I promise we’ll get through it together. And if you ever feel scared or worried or angry, I want you to know you’ll always have my shoulder to lean on.”

Phelan seemed so honest. So genuine. So naïve. He had just offered his shoulder, but I was more interested in his lips. I leaned forwards and kissed him.

Maybe I needed a little naivety to get through this.

My heart lifted when I felt him reciprocate.

“S-sorry, I should’ve…I didn’t mean to surprise you.” I stammered when we finally pulled away.

“It was a welcome surprise.” he replied.

We leaned in for another kiss.

“Hey fellas, do you-oh!” someone interrupted, making us break away once again. “Sorry, just wanted to tell you tea is ready. Whenever you are.”

MacKenzie made his way back the way he came, but not without one last shout.

The park had been decorated for weeks now. Strings of lights wrapped around trees while shiny baubles hung on their branches. Festive wreaths and ribbons adorned the park benches and rubbish bins. Elaborate, massive strands of evergreen garland connected lampposts to each other. Green and gold, red and silver, the colors of the holiday season were everywhere.

And I absolutely hated it.

If you had asked me last year, hell just a few months ago, I would have felt differently. It used to be one of my favorite times but here and now…it felt like some gross farce. Like the universe was twisting the knife.

Because this wasn’t Christmas, and this wasn’t my home.

Don’t ask me how it happened. Don’t ask me why I’m here instead of Earth. Just know that this isn’t it. One moment I was storming out of my house after a fight with Ma. Thunder crashed just as I turned to answer her. The next moment, I was so dizzy I nearly passed out on the street. It took a few minutes for my head to clear and to get my bearings. Finding out the world had grown all around me nearly took my breath away.

Coming face to face with a dragon didn’t help matters.

It was the worst day of my life. Everything, and everyone, around me was absolutely gigantic. Oversized pigeons and sparrows were mingling with dragons -honest to God DRAGONS- while a gigantic woman fed them popcorn from her seat. The look she gave when she saw me among the flock would be seared into my memory forever. Like she had just seen some mangy rat pop out of the sewer and flip her off. It was the first disgusted look I’d earn in this world. It wouldn’t be the last. I had barely made it to the underside of a massive park bench before she threw more popcorn for the birds and creatures.

I’d been living in the park and underneath that very bench ever since.

The original plan was to couch surf on a mate’s couch until my temper cooled off. I had the row of a lifetime with Ma and I couldn’t be under the same roof with her. I had clothes packed for the week and my guitar. Busk on the corners for pocket change if I really needed it, maybe play a gig or two if the opportunity came up. I would’ve been home soon enough. Despite my anger at that moment, I loved Ma and needed to make it up to her somehow. After we had a long talk.

That was months ago. I miss her more and more each day.

All the festive decorations didn’t help.

Christmas was a time for cheesy songs, gorging on piles of food, and keeping good company. Ma would blast her favorite Christmas carol as she woke me up to open our presents. I took to making us breakfast in recent years. The day was spent happy and full and surrounded by friends and loved ones.

This “Yggsmas” was more like a prolonged parody of everything I missed.

One of the few good things about this world was staring into my eyes at that moment.

About a week after I arrived, I was given another surprise of my life. I had already become accustomed to the comings and goings of the Giantfolk, as much as I hated to admit it. At least enough to manage a nap after cramming fistfuls of a giant crisp. Not the healthiest of meals, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. It was a cool day and I was content to snuggle inside my jacket and rest for a bit.

“Um, hullo there. Gotta minute to talk, do ye?” a voice asked just as I got comfortable.

I could’ve sworn I was already dreaming. There were many things I expected when I turned my head to answer. More Giantfolk to play for, maybe. A dragon or pigeon looking to share the shade, sure.

But another human being? After days on my own in a giant world?

I almost kissed him right then and there.

He would have to settle for the tightest, longest hug I could’ve mustered instead.

“Heh. Guess ye havne seen another human in a while, huh?” he asked after a moment. He was just as quick to return the embrace, and I almost cried. I thought I was the only human here. I thought I was alone. I thought I’d never see anyone my size again. Never hear a familiar accent that didn’t come from someone who towered over me. “I get it, mate. It’s all right. I’m here. There are other humans here too.”

“Waseem. I’m Waseem McCarthy.” I offered eventually. “Most everyone just calls…called…me Waz.”

“Tylar Fitzgerald. Everyone just calls me Tylar.” he replied.

“Erm, and I’m Georgina Gaogao. Georgie, rather.” a different voice added after a polite cough. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the presence of a Giant nearby but I was still caught off-guard. I let go of Tylar when she offered an awkward wave. “H-hullo.”

I returned the wave and took a step back. There was something obviously up with these two and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t in swiping distance just in case. Tylar earned a side-eye from me as well.

“We just wanna talk to ye, really.” Tylar said, putting his hands up defensively. He took his own step back as well. “We heard ye were here an’ thought ye might need some questions answered, is all.”

“‘We’?” I asked.

“Hullo again!” the Giant named Georgie said, waving once more. Her eyes crinkled with the broad smile she offered. She made sure to slow her movements and kept her hands in plain sight. Her fingers were entwined before she laid them on her lap.

“We can leave if ye want. I just doona…” Tylar began, slowly taking something out of his back pocket. I half expected a knife. The best defense I had was to clonk him with my guitar before I dashed off. Wouldn’t know how far I’d get if Georgie gave chase. It came as almost a relief to see a pamphlet in his hand instead. “I doona wanna leave ye out here without knowin’ what’s what, mate.”

I carefully took the pamphlet and read the front.

WELCOME TO TERGAIA:

WHAT TO EXPECT AS A HUMAN

AND WHAT WE’RE DOING TO CHANGE THINGS

PRESENTED AND DISTRIBUTED BY SAIH

(THE SOCIETY FOR THE ACCEPTANCE AND INTEGRATION OF HUMANS)

“Ter…gaia? What’s ‘Tergaia’?” I asked.

“That’s where we are. This world is Tergaia.” Tylar answered. “Ye may wanna sit down fer this one, mate. It’s a lot to take in.”

He wasn’t wrong.

The pamphlet was brief but still managed to say almost too much. Humans from Earth “Crossed Over” to Tergaia by magical means. Magic. There was magic here. The Giantfolk weren’t just too damn big, they could cast spells too. Wasn’t that just grand? Humans had been popping up here, seemingly randomly, for over 500 years. We were considered similar, if not exactly like, their “dæmons”, ancient enemies to their pantheon. It explained why so many of the Giantfolk…the Tergaians…reacted like I was some roach crossing their path. Others considered us cute and even kept humans as pets. A shiver went down my spine at all of the cooing folks I’d encountered in the days before. Their gentle praises no longer felt awkward yet encouraging but nauseating now.

But worst of all was the news about a way back home.

There wasn’t one.

It took several tries of reading the same paragraph before it sunk in. Something about the veil between worlds protecting itself from humans breaking its magic. Whatever the exact reason, it meant one thing: the door was locked behind us with no key to be found.

I didn’t bother to read the rest of it. What good would it have done? I’d never see my home again.

I’d never see Ma again.

“I know it’s…upsettin’.”

“Why are you even here, bruv?” I asked, trying to hand him back the pamphlet. It looked worn and hand-printed. Almost like it was the only one he had. They had. Whichever.

“Because ye shoodne be out here by yerself an’ confused or scared or anythin’.” Tylar said, pushing the paper back to me. “Ye should know what life is like right now but more important what it CAN be like. We wanna help where-!”

“So, what, are you HER pet or something? Is she forcing you to do this?”

It would be the first time I’d see his frustration rise to the surface. Tight lips, a furrowed brow, and angry huff through his nose.

“No. I volunteered fer this. I wanted to help others like ye. Like us.” he stated. “Ye need time to process this. I get that. We can stay here if ye have questions or just…need someone to yell at.”

I stared at him, waiting for the perfect retort to come to mind. For something, anything, to be said.

Tylar made his way back to the Giant, to Georgie, before a word could escape my lips.

“Look, we can come back tomorrow, or inna few days, to check up on ye. Anything ye wanna ask, or scream, or whatever. In the meantime, will ye at least accept this from us?”

I watched as Georgie slowly extracted something from her pocket and held it out for Tylar to take. It was equal parts disturbing and fascinating to see Tylar effortlessly walk up to her hand and retrieve the item. It would turn out to be a worn but cared for backpack.

“It’s not much-!”

“For right now!” Georgie added quickly. “We’re still gathering donations.”

“But it should help.” Tylar continued. “It’s a pack, and set-up fer a lean-to, and a spare canteen fer water. There’s a box in there ye should get to when ye have the chance.”

Before I could say anything else, he was sitting in a Giant hand, waiting to be picked up. My stomach turned at the sight. I couldn’t imagine doing anything of the sort just then. Not after what I’d read.

I thought for sure I’d never see them again. See him again.

But they returned. The next day, and at least once a week afterwards.

It eventually became a routine to see Tylar at least once a day, if not have him spend the night. At first, it was just us discussing the world we were living in, and SAIH’s attempts at helping change the perspective. Over time it was more about the two of us than about the rest of the world.

Selfish, I know.

“I doona s’pose ye gave it any thought?” Tylar asked softly and cautiously. I loved the sound of his not-quite-right accent and the familiar lilt in his voice. It was more comforting than he knew.

“You need to narrow that down a bit, luv.” I replied, entwining my fingers with his. “There are a lot of things on my mind right now.”

“…Findin’ someplace safer to hunker down fer the winter.”

“Tylar.”

“I know, I know. Ye like yer set-up, ye like bein’ on yer own. But there’s s’posed to be a bad storm in the next few days. Ye know how much I worry about ye.”

“I love that you worry about me. But really, I’ll be fine. I’ve lasted this long out here, haven’t I?”

A giggle was held back as Tylar let out his frustrated huff. It was cute.

“Ye’ve been lucky. REAL lucky.” he admitted after a moment.

It was the understatement of the century.

My first day of being here made me realize just how tough finding food was going to be. The wildlife wasn’t just immense, but they had their own routines. They knew where to find their meals: waiting for those who threw popcorn and bread, scrounging in the bins during the quiet times, or simply hunting other animals in the park. I thought for sure the dragons or other carnivores would try to make a snack out of me. They seemed more interested in other prey or scraps than me, thankfully.

If it hadn’t been for my idle guitar playing and one of the Giantfolk liking my song, I wouldn’t have earned my first sausage roll. From then on, I played for food. Scraps to the Giantfolk were a few meals to me. Sharing what leftovers went bad or I simply couldn’t eat with the other animals seemed to help. They almost never bothered me otherwise.

Even the park employees didn’t bother me after a time. Most of them, again, thought I was something cute to gush over or be amazed at. The park director himself didn’t mind my being there. Not that he went out of his way to show it, but still. Only one of the park attendants seemed especially irked by my presence, and even he was made to stop. For the most part.

Especially after what would turn out to be the chance encounter of a lifetime.

The lady had popped out of the blue one day. I was still under my bench playing when she stumbled over. A bright jumper, a blue bag, messy hair. Didn’t seem out of the ordinary to me. Not that anything was, really, any more.

“Urrrrgh…I am REALLY starting to hate magic…” she grumbled as she laid herself on the ground in front of me. It took her a moment before she realized I was sitting there. “Oh. Hey man. Sorry about that. I uh…can explain. Kinda.”

“Guessing by your accent you’re not from around here, bruv?” I chuckled.

“Oh God no. Bridget Bradley, from New Jersey. USA. Earth.”

“Waseem McCarthy, Killarney, Ireland.”

It would end up being a short chat with me giving her directions towards “civilization” before I went back to my routine. A few hours later, one of the Giantfolk followed suit: popped in, stumbled, laid to rest on my bench. Gave me a shock when he knew an Earth song and repaired my guitar’s strings. Was glad for the food and the spare canteen he offered. Didn’t think much of it, really.

Until a few days later.

“HOW DO YE KNOW THE KING?!” Tylar and Georgie yelled from out of the blue. I nearly jumped 10 feet in the air from their sudden appearance. Georgie always made it a point to announce her presence before kneeling down to “my” level. Tylar was already hopping off her hand when my heart started beating again.

“…Who?” I asked as he ran over to me with a backpack. It was large, and brand new. Definitely a sight better than the one they gave me weeks before. “Nice. New donations, I take it?”

“Well, yes, SAIH received some as well but that one is specifically for you!” Georgie replied, pulling out a letter. She began to read before I could ask why. “‘Dear Miss Gaogao, I want to thank you again for taking the time to talk with me about the Society for the Acceptance and Integration of Humans the other day. You are a passionate and well-informed young woman and I hope to speak with you and your associates soon on the matter properly and more in-depth. My assistant, Miss Cassidy Gabon’ -that’s my cousin- ‘will work with you to schedule a meeting. In the meantime, please accept these donations for your organization as well as this check to help your efforts.’ -it was a TIDY sum, let’s just say- ‘I ask, if it is not too much trouble, to present the specially marked bag for someone I met in Killarney Park. His name is Waseem and he plays a guitar underneath one of the benches. He was a previous recipient of your generosity and mentioned your organization by name. I hope he is familiar enough to you that this will not be an unreasonable favor to ask. I had hoped to do it myself, but I fear royal duties must come first. Thank you once more and best of luck to you and yours, signed King Colm Matthew Alexander Brian Arcadi, FIRST KING OF FATHACH.’”

“I…what? I don’t know anybody named…” I began, claiming the letter attached to the new backpack. The envelope was addressed “To Waseem the Guitarist” in an unfamiliar script. The handwriting was quick but legible. My confusion cleared up the longer I read the note inside.

“Dear Waseem,

I hope this letter and bag of supplies finds you well. I wanted to thank you again for your assistance the other day in Killarney Park. Your song and your directions were a great help to me when we met. I hoped to return the favor once again. While the canteen and the sausage roll may have helped you at that moment, I felt that I needed to show my appreciation in a more sustainable way. Inside this bag you will find plenty of supplies to help you live just a bit more comfortably in this great big world of ours while I try my best to make it more hospitable for all of Fathach’s people, Tergaian and Human alike. There are notes on everything with an explanation for what they can do inside the bag. I would like to point out in particular: the enchanted tent, the barrier protection rope, a set of vaccines, a copy of the Faol Scouts Survival Guide, and most importantly, the Jumper Stone. If ever there is an emergency or you need a warm place to stay or you would like to drop by for a visit, you are more than welcome at Castle Arcadi. Simply squeeze the stone and it will Jump you directly here. I hope you will consider staying in touch using the ImmediaNote pad provided.

Thank you once more and best of luck,

King Colm Matthew Alexander Brian Arcadi

First King of Fathach”

There was a second note written at the end of the page from a different person’s hand.

“P.S. Consider all this stuff from me too, thanks again for everything! Signed, Bridget from NJ”

It took a few times rereading everything for it to sink in.

“…Holy Shit. I know the king.”

That one brief encounter left me with a much better set-up. The tent was warm, sturdy, and big enough to keep me and Tylar comfortable whenever he slept over. The barrier rope kept unwanted creatures at bay when set around the tent. It certainly helped when strangers or a surly park employee came by. There had been more inside the bag than I could’ve guessed, and it helped me feel more…well, not at home. And comfortable didn’t sound right either.

But it certainly didn’t hurt.

“I just doona like ye pushin’ yer luck, is all.” Tylar continued. “If somethin’ happened to ye out here, I…I’d never…”

“It won’t come to that, I promise.” I replied. “Besides, if I’m not here, who’ll make sure Robin gets fed?”

“Robin is a fox who can feed himself. Ye doona have to keep makin’ excuses fer stayin’ out here.”

“I’m not making excuses.”

“Arne ye? Why else woodne ye wanna be under a real roof fer a lil’ while?”

“Why won’t you tell me where you were born?”

It was a cheap shot. I knew it. He knew it. I hated saying it. He hated hearing it. But it was the only way I knew to change the subject. It wasn’t the first time I asked the question, but it was always something Tylar avoided answering. His accent, while familiar, always threw me off. I thought for certain he was Irish. But it also sounded too much like the “Fathish” accent the Giantfolk had. I don’t know why it was important to me.

I just knew I needed closure one way or the other.

“…Stop tryin’ to deflect, arsehole.” he countered instead.

“I’m just asking-!”

“Um, Tylar? Waz? Are you down there?” Georgie called out from outside the tent. “If you’re staying the night, I just need to know now. I don’t want to be stuck in the Yggsmas market crowds again.”

Tylar was up and getting his boots on in an instant.

“I’ll be right there, Georgie!” he yelled out as he buttoned his coat. Tylar tried to keep his voice steady as he continued talking. “Look, I like ye a lot, Waz. I do. An’ I doona wanna see ye out here alone again. But if yer gonna keep tryin’ to push me away, one of these days I may decide it’s not worth it to push back.”

“Tylar, wait, you don’t-!”

“I’ll see ye tomorrow, Waz. Maybe. Ye’ve got yer Jumpers if ye need them. Or at least head fer that temple up the road a few blocks. They’ve started letting humans in to hunker down too.”

He was out of the tent before I could stop him.

I did want to stop him.

Really I did.

But he didn’t understand.

I tried being around the Giantfolk. Truly I did. During my first weeks in the park, I’d wandered farther than usual. I ran into a pair of park attendants as they were leaving from their break room. One went back in to grab something “fer the lil’ fella tuh eat” while the other kept watch on me. He tried to make conversation. Condescendingly, and almost like I was some stray he was trying to keep calm rather than another person. I tried to say something. Even when he offered me the biggest chip butty with malt vinegar I’d ever seen in my life. I was tempted. But all kinds of thoughts came to mind as I stared at the plate of food. Was this a good faith offering? Was it a trap? Would he swat me to the ground before I stepped closer?

Robin saved me from making a decision.

The fox liked to follow me around on my walks. Knew I could be relied on for scraps if he needed them. He grabbed the sandwich and dashed off in the other direction. It diverted the Giants’ attention while I scarpered off into the dusk and shadows.

Even when I was invited to the Yggsmas market opening with Tylar, Georgie, and her cousin Cassidy, I tried. At the end of November, after their “Fall’s End Festival”, the public square was cleared and sectioned off. The market was set-up in the middle of the park, full to bursting with vendors of all sorts: seasonal food stalls, artisans, carolers, and more. The usual buskers moved there as well, hoping to earn some extra coin in the crowds. The smells and sights and sounds should have helped put me to ease. Despite the occasional stare. Sitting on Cassidy’s shoulder, any Giantfolk shoulder, was disorienting, but I’d managed. Even from up high, there was a lot to take in.

“I’m going to find the gaudiest, most ridiculous thing this market has to offer even if it kills me.” Georgie had stated when we passed under the elaborately decorated entrance.

“Georgie, Auntie Mo is not worth all this effort.” Cassidy sighed. She had visited with Georgie and Tylar a time or two, and seemed alright with my being on her shoulder. It took some getting used to on my end. Literally and metaphorically. The light freckles against her dark skin seemed to glow in the sunlight.

“Auntie Mo gave me a damn sock for Yggsmas last year because she thought I’d like the color scheme and tried to explain it away as a ‘heartfelt and handmade’ gift. She is getting the worst ‘Fuck You’ knick-knack I can find.”

“Georgie-!”

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to do the same. What’d she get you last year, paint thinner?”

“It was her home brewed perfume.”

“For Caduceus’ Sake, how can you NOT want to throw that back in her face somehow?”

“…Maybe I can find her a scented candle she’ll hate.”

“That’s the Yggsmas spirit!”

As we perused the booths, I did my best to enjoy myself. There were plenty of trinkets and art and toys to admire. Plushies ranged from teddy bears to dragons to unicorns. Porcelain dolls dressed in their Yggsmas best sat next to wooden lawn decorations. There were a few food stalls and drink cotes littered among the artisan vendors. From what I saw, it was almost like the Christmas markets from home.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t home.

And I didn’t want it to be.

I tried to be good company for their sake, but it wasn’t the same.

If I kept my distance, if I stayed an outsider…I would never have to get used to this place. Would never have to fully accept that this was my life now.

I could keep pretending there was a chance I’d see Ma again.

The best way to keep the bad thoughts at bay was just to play. Maybe I’d be able to earn some more “Yggsmas” treats before the night really settled in. By the time I’d climbed the elaborate metalwork that constructed the bench, the sun was just setting. There was still a good 30 minutes before the lamps and decorations were lit, and people still walked the paths. Many were coming to and from the market for their last-minute shopping. According to the Tergaian calendar I had, it was Yggsmas Eve. And Christmas eve. It still amazed me how some things coincided with Earth, like the names of the days and months, and even some of the holidays.

“-and make sure they’re set properly. Iansa could send her winter storm any day now and I won’t have the park paths unusable.” a voice said as I settled into my spot on the bench. The top of the bench’s back should have scared me, and at times it did, but it was the best way to be seen and avoid getting hit in the face by windblown leaves or trash. For the most part. “After that you can – Oh, good evening.”

I gave the park director a wave before I started playing “Silent Night”. The man was polite enough, and didn’t mind my playing for scraps. Even before the King had sent him a letter about me as well. He almost treated me like any of the other Giantfolk buskers that worked the park. If he had any doubts about my living under a bench, they were gone in the wake of the King’s praises.

“You can head home for the night afterwards.” he continued, his attention back to the park attendant. It was just my luck it was Rogers, the only park employee to outright hate me. I tried to ignore him. He had been pretty hostile when I first arrived. And he still held on to that resentment, despite the manager and the King’s letter. “Good night, and Happy Yggsmas.”

“Right on, sir. Happy Yggsmas to you too, sir.” Rogers replied as cheerily as he could. A sneer returned as soon as the manager left down the path. He spit in my direction but went about his work. Kneeling down he placed his hands on one of the park’s crystal rocks. There was at least one placed between all the benches. When I first arrived, I thought they were some kind of art piece or memorial. Something to give the park style, maybe. Rogers was about to demonstrate how wrong that original assumption was. “Heat.”

The crystal gave a faint glow at the sound of the spell.

Magic was real here. The Giantfolk knew magic and it didn’t even seem like that big a deal to them. The first time I saw it, I hadn’t realized what I was looking at. One of the regular performers at the park was a street magician. I’d stopped to watch during my initial trek around the new, too-big world. He did the usual tricks: guessed at cards, pulled an “endless” string of handkerchiefs from his hand, and the like. Despite my best effort, I had been spotted by the street magician. He barely flinched, however, and found a way to incorporate me into his act, if only for a moment. With a series of hand gestures and simple words, he managed to turn a single flower into a bouquet, from something that barely fit into his arms only for it to somehow appear in mine instantly. I almost dropped the flowers the second they appeared in my hand. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t have been. After the applause ended, he retrieved the flowers without ever bending down or reaching for them. He simply gave a nod and returned to his work, leaving me awestruck.

Magical Giantfolk. Who would’ve thought?

Rogers muttered a few more spells into the crystal before he continued on his way. He spit once more as he passed me. I gave him a certain hand gesture in return. Rogers would’ve retaliated, I was certain, if other Giantfolk hadn’t arrived. The pair sat on my bench, warm drinks in hand, and actually seemed interested to hear what I had to play. Earth holiday music was just different enough to Tergaian songs that many found it, well, a novelty to hear. I’d been practicing their Yggsmas carols thanks to a portable wireless set I was given, but usually stuck to what I already knew.

Within a few hours, I’d managed to earn a piece of peppermint bark and a veggie tart. It was a good haul. I would’ve loved to share it with someone. I wished Tylar was there. I wished Ma was there…

Oh Ma.

What were you doing right then? Where you sick with worry? Angry? Did you miss me as much as I missed you? After what I’d said…did you miss me at all?

“OH YGGBÍL, OH YGGBÍL, HOW LOVELY ARE THY BRANCHES!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” I grumbled. The carolers had come back around. It wasn’t the first time that day, let alone in the last few weeks, that they insisted on singing near my bench. There was usually a “code” among the buskers and street performers: don’t overlap on another’s turf, especially when you had similar “shows”. The only upside was knowing I wasn’t the only one the group had been intruding on. I know the park director had to reprimand them for intruding on others’ acts. If the performers hadn’t chased them off themselves, in their own way. I knew for a fact they were pursued by a flock of the magician’s doves the first time they tried singing near him. The downside being, well, their Giantfolk voices always managed to drown out my songs no matter how much I tried. One voice got lost in a chorus of many, after all.

I was ready to call it a night when the Giant man sat down on my bench.

He wore a dark red coat that matched his flat cap, with white accents throughout his outfit. It certainly looked like the typical holiday fashion I’d spotted throughout that day. Even the inconsiderate carolers were dressed in Yggsmas colors. The man set his bag down beside him and got comfortable. The carolers took this as a good sign and focused their attention on him, ramping up their song.

“Excuse me, but isn’t it rude trying to sing over another performer?” he asked in a strong tone. “I can’t hear the young man play.”

The carolers, for once in their lives, were stunned. Some grumbled and others shot a dirty look or two, but started down the path towards the market. They picked up their song and were out of earshot soon enough.

“Got any requests, bruv? I’ll do my best.” I asked once we were settled again. There was no way I was going to leave without offering something in return.

“I wouldn’t mind something bittersweet, if you can manage.” the man sighed, leaning back against the bench. Strands of tinsel were intwined in the dreadlocks he swept over his shoulder. “It would just be nice to not hear Yggsmas songs for a little while.”

“Say no more. I think you’ll like this one.”

It was an oldie but a goodie, and one I knew by heart. God forbid it should happen, but if ever I lost my hands, I was sure I could still play the tune with my feet. It was one of the first songs I ever learned to play.

It was the first song I ever played for Ma.

“Do you know what Yggsmas is supposed to be about, lad?” he asked after a while.

“Something about…a tree? Ygg…something. I don’t remember the whole thing. Sorry. I know it’s important.”

“Would you like a summary, young man?”

“All right.”

“It’s the day our Mother Tree, Yggbíl, sprouted into existence. Light and warmth came into the world at her arrival. It would take her 7 days before she grew her first fruit, the first forms of life.” he explained, staring off into the distance. His attention turned to the decorations all around us. “Yggsmas is a celebration of her birth, so to speak, and to remind us there is still light and life to be found even during the darkest and coldest times. The year is started off with noise and resolutions to encourage new beginnings and to chase away past regrets.”

The similarity to Christmas and New Year’s celebrations was both comforting and distressing.

“But when you start to really think about the ‘reason for the season’…it’s hard not to get a little cynical around the holidays. Yggbíl’s first fruit…they were what we call the dæmons. They were her first attempt at life, but…she was too young. She wasn’t strong enough to keep them on her branches to grow. They fell before they were ready. And once they hit the ground, well…it wasn’t good.”

He heaved a great sigh and closed his eyes. It was almost like he needed a moment to collect himself. Maybe he was a teacher or a theologian who had lectured this same lesson countless times to students. Probably the first time in a long time to have someone interested in what he had to say. I wasn’t there to judge. Just trying to earn some bread. Literally.

“With no magic of their own, without that needed connection to their Mother Tree, the dæmons rampaged across the land. Maybe it was out of anger, or pain, or…loneliness. They lashed out until Yggbíl was strong enough to create the gods who would defeat them. Or at least, to keep them contained. Many think of it as a good thing, a job well done. Divine triumph and so on. But…was it? The dæmons never asked to be born. They didn’t know how life would be for them in their…imperfect forms. They just wanted to live. How can anyone blame them for trying to survive?”

“…is that why you Giantfolk see us as demons too? Because we’re not…magic or connected or whatever?”

“Another thing I don’t understand. This world isn’t exactly logical sometimes.”

I snorted. I hadn’t meant to, but it came out. My grip tightened on my guitar just in case I needed to make a mad dash for it. I had experience making my way down the bench by then, it would’ve been easy. It was just a matter of being faster than the Giantfolk. It, unfortunately, wouldn’t have been the first time I needed to make a quick escape.

The man’s gentle laugh was a relief.

“Understatement of the century, lad.” he chuckled. I kept playing the bittersweet song he requested, almost on a loop. Not that anyone would have known the difference. The calm mood was broken soon enough. “Something on your mind, son?”

“Hmm?”

“I thought I was the only one feeling melancholy tonight but you seem a bit down yourself.”

There was a part of me that wanted to lie. To ignore the feeling and just keep playing.

“…understatement of a lifetime, bruv.”

“I don’t mind listening if you don’t mind talking about it. You did just hear me prattle on after all.”

I turned towards the Giant, hoping to shrug it all off. Talking about your personal struggle with someone who saw you as some party trick wasn’t exactly a good idea. But as I locked eyes with him, there was just something about him. It could’ve been the earnest look of interest he wore. Or the pair of scars on his cheeks that interested me. Or maybe I just needed a stranger I’d never see again to lend an ear.

“I…I miss home.”

It was enough for everything to start pouring out.

“I mean…I guess most of us, most humans, miss home. Everyday. It’s not like I’m the only one. It’s just…the last person I saw before…before I ‘Crossed Over’…was Ma. We had a fight about…it doesn’t matter. I was being stupid. I was upset over…over something I probably shouldn’t have been, really. I said…I said something…something awful to her before I left and…and now I’ll n-never…I’ll never get to apologize. Because I’m here. I’m stuck HERE and I can’t make it up to her and we’ll never see each other again. I’d…I’d give anything to j-just…to just be able to tell her I was sorry. Or to take it all back like…like it never even happened. I just wish I had a chance to make it right.”

The tears ran down my cheeks without my knowing it. I tried my best to wipe them away but my efforts weren’t enough.

“Sorry bruv, you don’t…this isn’t what you’re here for. I can keep playing…”

“Here.” the man softly said, offering something from his enormous hand. Laying on a fingertip was a handkerchief. When I picked it up, begrudgingly, I saw it was embroidered with an elaborate “C” in the corner. “Take your time, lad.”

I’m afraid to admit it took longer to calm down than I wanted. Once I was all cried out, I made to give the handkerchief back to the man. The man waved my attempts off.

“Yggsmas is…it’s an awful lot like Christmas back home. Not the exact same reasons but…close enough. And same ways to celebrate. Gifts, and songs, and food, and fam…family. This’ll be the first Christmas away from home…away from Earth…and away from Ma. I can’t stop thinking of what’s happening back home. Did Ma decorate this year? Is she alone? Does she…does she think I’m dead? It’s…it’s hard, that’s all.”

My fingers brushed against my guitar strings but no song came to mind. Even strumming random chords felt out of place. The energy was gone.

“I can only imagine what you must be feeling.” the man stated, breaking the silence. “If it were possible, I’d make sure every human who wanted to return to Earth would.”

The sentiment was appreciated. And needed. But I couldn’t help but get hung up on the odd phrasing. “Every human who wanted to”. What human would want to stay here if given the chance to go home?

“Did…does your mother have a favorite ‘Chrizmush’ song? Or a tradition you associate with her?”

“…yeah. Of course.” I replied eventually.

“Think of it before you go to sleep tonight. It may just help.” he stated, rummaging around in his bag. He pulled out a package and studied it carefully. “Don’t suppose these guitar strings would be of any use, would they?”

“They’re practically perfect, bruv.” I answered as he held the package up for me to inspect. “They seem like premium strings though. I’d feel bad if you had to give them up for lil’ ol’ me.”

“You don’t ‘give up’ gifts, you present them.” he stated, shrinking the package down in a flash and holding it out once more. I was less hesitant to accept something from his immense hand this time.

“Thanks, bruv. And…thanks for listening.”

“This world can be illogical and hostile towards you and your kind. It won’t be an easy life here. Please try to keep in mind, there is kindness too, when it decides to show itself. I know it’s not much, but I hope it’s a small comfort for you. Have a good night, and Merry Christmas, Waseem.”

“Happy Yggsmas, mister.”

…Wait.

Did I tell him my name?

The Giant man was already gone before I turned to face him.

I was already making my descent down the bench when I heard the carolers returning. If they were so determined to sing that night, they could have the spot. They’d be gone by the day after. Might as well let others drive them off in my stead.

As I touched the ground, a series of loud sniffles caught my attention. Standing tall and gangly, his scarred nose searching around him, was a fox I knew all too well. Robin was a friend, in a way, since my first days in the park. I came across him on my travels around the park one day. The fox had gotten himself caught in something while snapping at a badger. I was scared at first, but it didn’t seem right to let the poor tod not have a fair fight. Especially when the striped bastard took a swipe at his face. I managed to get his leg free before anything more could happen. Afterwards, he seemed to follow me whenever I walked around the park or managed an overload of food for the day.

“Hey there, Robin.” I called out. The massive fox took a few sniffs my way and got excited. He yipped a few times before he turned his attention to the scraps on the ground. “Go on, boy. All for you. I’m good for the night.”

Robin set to eating the leftover bark and tart right then and there. I turned to enter my tent when I felt his nose on my back. The first few times he had done so, I was terrified. I thought for sure he decided mouse-sized meant mouse-meal too. It took a while to realize he was trying to be friendly. I gave him his now-expected pats and scratches before too many people stopped by. Once there were more Giantfolk than scraps, he dashed off into the night.

It was hard getting to sleep that night. The wireless played as I tried to doze off. The Yggsmas carols were comforting but disconcerting. They were strange and familiar and out of place but recognizable all at once. After a while, I gave up and turned it off. As I rolled over, a hand instinctively reached out for Tylar. Nights were easier when he was around. Days were easier. Life was easier. I’d have to find some way to make it up to him, too. If ever he decided to come back.

Ma would’ve known what to say. She was always good with these sorts of things. God knows she put her foot in her mouth enough times through the years. Ma always found some way to patch things up in the end.

Oh Ma.

I miss you more than you know.

The Giant’s suggestion soon came to mind. What harm could it have done?

I began humming the first verse softly to myself before letting the lyrics pour out. It was Ma’s way of waking me up on Christmas Day if I hadn’t rushed into her bedroom first. We were born and raised in the town it was named for, after all. It was a cheesy song, but it was her favorite. I wasn’t even halfway done before I finally felt drowsiness overcome me.

Maybe there was an expectation to relive old memories. To remember the good times from days past and hope that would be enough.

What I didn’t expect was to find myself home again.

Everything seemed as it ever was: worn but carefully maintained furniture, knick-knacks dotting the mantel alongside family photos, and the smell of something absolutely delicious in the oven. A Christmas tree sat in its usual spot in a corner, decorated but barely. In fact, there were fewer decorations than usual. Enough to celebrate, but only just. I took a chance and carefully walked from the living room to look into the kitchen. Standing at the sink, her face towards her task, was a short, squat woman with graying red hair tied into a braid.

It was her.

It was really her.

“Ma?”

The figure stood still for a moment. She almost seemed ready to turn around, but thought against it. The dishwashing continued instead. I took a cautious step forward, crossing the checkered linoleum until I stood next to her. Even then, she kept her eyes to the sink.

She slowly handed me a plate, still wet but clean from her scrubbing.

I took the drying towel, which hung from a handle nearby, and started drying. Just like I used to do every night after dinner.

The silence was overwhelming and tense but…it was Ma. It was home. I couldn’t be happier.

Now if only she’d talk to me.

“I’m sor-!”

“I’m so sorry, Waseem.” she stated quickly. There was a moment as we both tried to process what was said. She breathed a sigh of relief soon enough. “I mean it. I’m sorry I said what I said and did what I did.”

“I’m sorry too.” I replied. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry. It wasn’t worth-!”

“Don’t you lie to me, Waz.” she interrupted, handing me a bowl. “You know damn well you had every right to be angry. Don’t tell tales just to make me feel better. I raised-! …That is, you know better than that.”

As I wiped down the bowl, I tried to think of something to say. Months to think about how I wanted this conversation to go, thinking I had every possible angle planned…and I was still drawing a blank.

“…You’re right. I was angry. And it WAS my right to be angry. But that doesn’t mean I should’ve…I shouldn’t’ve said you weren’t my real mum.”

The silence was tense as we continued to clean and dry and set the various dishes into the drying rack.

“…Ma? Why didn’t you ever tell me about them?”

She hesitated. For a long time, there was only her washing the same platter. I thought for sure I’d never hear her speak again.

“Amina never wanted them to get their hands on you.” Ma finally said, handing me the next piece to dry. “Her family was…there was a reason she eloped, and a reason she left him, and a reason she stayed with me.”

“Because she loved you.”

“Aheh. Yes. Because she loved me. Because she loved you. And because Amina knew they’d do everything in their power to take you from her.” she explained. A soft smile crossed her face at the memory. I never knew my birth mother, but Ma did. She started to tear up soon enough. “I’m so stupid. I should…I should have told you ages ago. I failed her. I failed you. I failed in ways I never meant to.”

“Ma, you didn’t. I promise. You did your best and I turned out alright. Mostly.”

“I said I’d always protect you and…and I couldn’t even do that. I wanted to make sure you were never called…that word…for as long as I could. But I couldn’t stop that Calvin from when we lived in London, could I?”

“…The first time I was called that was when I was 9. By Cousin Bentley. But I settled it right away.” I explained. There was still that terrible feeling all over just remembering it. That lump in the pit of my stomach, the racing of my heart, the ache of someone I knew hurting me so deep. That first time I heard my rat-faced cousin call me that, it was like a slap in the face. “I mean, you didn’t really believe he slipped and got his face stuck to the table with his model glue on accident, right?”

“…What.”

“Ma. C’mon.”

“What.”

“There was a reason I gave him bottles of glue for his birthday and Christmas. It took him a few years to get the point, but he apologized. I promise.”

“That little son of a bitch.”

“Ma, that’s your sister. What’s past is past.” I said, trying to calm her down. Her ears were turning as red as her hair. She was ready to blow like a kettle if she lingered on the thought for too long. “Calvin got what he deserved too, remember. I’d still like to shake the hand of the guy who beat his ass though. Never did figure that out, did we?”

It came as a surprise to feel Ma slip her hand into mine instead of another plate. The realization only dawned on me when she started to shake our hands up and down.

“Ma.”

“That chav cunt had it coming.”

“MA.”

“I wasn’t about to let him get away with letting those words fall out of his mouth. He’s lucky his teeth didn’t follow close behind.”

“Ma, he went to hospital! Had stitches and, what, a broken rib? How’d you avoid going to jail for assaulting a kid?!”

“A teen!”

“STILL!”

“I told his mum if she tried to file charges, I’d tell her husband about all the comings and goings from her house while he was at work.”

“…Holy shit, how’d you know she was cheating on him?!”

“I didn’t. she just assumed I knew something.” Ma chuckled, a smile returning to her face. She set down the teapot she was trying to clean. “God Above, but this was a good dream.”

“Ma?” I asked gently, trying to catch her eyes again. They had remained on our task the whole time. Never once did she turn her head. Not even try to see me from the corner of her eye.

“I’ve had it before, you know. At least once a week since you disappeared. Rightly disappeared, even. No one but that mental Missus Wilson saw you just…vanish. They wouldn’t believe me when I tried to explain. Everyone thinks you just took off and I was having a mental break or something.”

I just kept drying the same bowl, waiting for her to continue.

“Every time, you would call ‘Ma’, and every time I would turn to see you. And…and every time you would just…just disappear again. I thought maybe this time if I didn’t turn, if I concentrated on just…just washing the dishes, you’d be able to stay. For good. Forever.”

“What makes you think this is a dream this time?” I asked, more to myself than her. It all felt very real. Maybe I was home. Maybe I was back to the life I knew and loved and Ma would be alright. We would be alright.

But…that meant Tylar would be gone too…

“You remember this teapot?”

I looked at the one she held. It was familiar. More than familiar, actually. It was one I had made for her in a ceramics class. It was a simple, ordinary shaped pot but brightly colored and covered in garden flowers and bugs.

“I broke it during our move back to Killarney from London. I hadn’t meant to but…I still did. I glued it back together but told myself it would stay in a special place from then on. But here it is, all in one piece. Like I’d never dropped the damn thing.”

Tears started coming down her face. And seeing her cry just made me want to cry too.

“I want to stay, Ma. I never would’ve left if…if it meant I would never see you again.” I explained. She choked up at the thought, and the tears ran like rivers. “I miss you so much. All I want is to come home.”

“Oh God, you’re dead. You’re dead and…and…”

“No, no, I’m alive. But where I am…I don’t think I can make it back. I want to. It’s…it’s not much of a life but…I did meet somebody. I think you’d like him. But it’s not the same. And…I want you to know, all right? Every day I think of you, and miss you, and want to be home. Please remember that: I love you Ma, and I always will.”

Ma finally turned to face me. Streak marks were already showing up on her cheeks from the tears. Her eyes were red, and wide, and searching, and desperate, and the deep green I knew and loved. When she saw I was still there, she dropped the teapot into the sink. With a speed I never would’ve expected from her, she reached for me.

“Maybe if I hold on to you this time…maybe you’ll stay…” she explained, wrapping her arms around me.

I didn’t argue.

I wanted it to be true, too.

I returned her embrace. It was the tightest hug. It was the best hug. It was the longest hug.

It would be the last hug we’d give each other.

The tears were already falling before I woke up.

I heaved great big sobs, just letting the emotions wash over me.

I had gotten my wish after all.

It took ages for me to stop, and to calm down. It felt like swimming in a whirlpool of relief and sorrow. Ma knew I was alive. I knew she was all right. We’d had our say, no matter how short it was.

What was next?

“Apologize to Tylar, for one thing…” I mumbled to myself. He deserved that, and more, but it would be a start. I didn’t know how I would make it up to him, but I knew I had to. I hadn’t been the best boyfriend the last few days. If he came to visit today, I’d make him feel as special as I knew him to be.

It was as I was getting dressed that I finally noticed something odd.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

Checking the time, it was a little after 7 am. At the very least, there should’ve been the cooing of pigeons or growling of dragons or other signs of wildlife. Maybe the thundering of joggers and runners as they made their way down the path. Something had to be wrong. I was cautious, slowly unzipped the tent flap, and peeked outside.

The world was pitch black.

“Oh no…” I muttered. I let the tent flap fall back in place as I reached for a spare lantern. It took a few tries to get the damned thing lit. The crystal chip inside gave off a strong glow on the third try. When I went to inspect the outside, my worst fears were confirmed. In the bright light, I could see exactly what caused the darkness: snow.

The storm had come early.

The bench was surrounded by walls of snow. I could only imagine how bad the outside looked in comparison. The Giantfolk could write it off as only a meter at best. To me, down here, it was enough to cover a house at least. Some of the flakes still trickled in through the bench slots above, but barely. There was a light dusting on the ground but the walls worried me the most.

I was trapped.

A cautious testing of the snow proved it was solid enough. Maybe. Even if I had a shovel, digging myself out sounded like a bad idea. There was no telling if I’d cause an avalanche or a cave-in during my attempts. Worse yet, with it being a Giantfolk holiday, who knew when someone would walk by. I was on my own for this.

I needed time to think.

Packing up was my first priority. Everything, with the exception of a few key items and my guitar, made it into the special backpack. Apparently, it had a spell on it that made it bigger on the inside. More than convenient, if you asked me. Especially when it came to stuffing my favorite blanket inside. It was a handmade, knitted gift from one of my “regulars”. She was a sweet old lady who appreciated good music when she heard it. It wasn’t something I wanted to leave behind. Using the lantern, I double-checked the area. The snow was packed all around, creating an unintentional igloo without an entrance.

I stared at the stone chip in my hand. It was part of that very first donation from Tylar and Georgie. He explained it was part of something called a Jumper Stone. The SAIH folks didn’t have the resources for full working stones to distribute, but the stones and crystals could still hold magic when broken apart. Inconvenient for the Giantfolk, but adequate for us humans. I was warned it would be a one-shot deal though, and to use it wisely. It would teleport me to wherever Georgie and Tylar lived.

“Here I come, Tylar.” I muttered as I squeezed the chip.

I don’t know what I was expecting. A “whoosh”? The ground dropping away from me? Every atom of my being to tear apart and mesh again?

What I didn’t expect…was failure.

The stone chip did nothing as I tried squeezing it over and over.

“Ok, that’s…that’s fine. Just use the other one.”

The other one was, as Georgie explained, a proper Jumper Stone. Shrunken down, of course, but much better than just a chip. This one in particular was of the highest grade, capable of multiple “Jumps” if needed. It was the one from the king’s gift package. The one that would bring me far away to the king’s castle.

I admit, I hesitated taking it out of its box.

“It’s…it’s fine. You’ll be fine. It’s an open invitation, and it’s not like you’re moving into the place. You just need to interrupt the king of a Giant country on a Giant world on an important national Giant holiday so you don’t suffocate to death under a snow bank.”

With a deep breath, I squeezed and hoped for the best.

What I got was…not the best.

“…What the Hell is going on?” I said, squeezing the stone over and over again. It took a moment to notice the note stuck inside stone’s carrying case.

It read:

“This Jumper Stone will bring you straight to Castle Arcadi when squeezed. Be sure to recharge it by setting it under sunlight or in water or buried under the earth. Do this once a week for anywhere between 1 hour to 6 hours for a full charge.”

“Shit.”

I’d kept both the chip and the stone hidden away in their boxes for the last few weeks.

“SHIT!”

The swears and insults came fast and loud. I couldn’t help it. I was doomed. How was anyone supposed to find me in time? Was this really how I was going to die? Underneath a park bench in the middle of nowhere? On Christmas?!

That’s when the walls started caving in.

“AH!”

Well, one wall.

“What the-?!”

Well, part of a wall.

The snow came crashing down and I was running in the opposite direction in an instant. I thought for sure the entire structure would fall from the sudden force. The other walls managed to stay in place however. The snow must have been packed well enough to keep them steady.

I turned to face my savior.

YIP YIP

“Robin!” I yelled as the fox dug his way through. He shook himself free of the snow in his fur before sniffing his way towards me. I gave him his usual pats in appreciation. “Oh, thank God for you, you mangy ol’ tod you.”

Robin didn’t seem interested in the pats or the insults for long. He sniffed his way around the area, making paw prints in the snow. My guess was he heard my voice and hoped some of the usual scraps could be found too. He gave another yip before he made his way out from under the bench. I didn’t blame him.

We both had other places to be.

Heading towards Georgie and Tylar would’ve been a good idea. Crossing the market space probably would’ve been easier with everyone elsewhere for the day. And, naturally, it would’ve been quite the surprise for them to see me turn up on their doorstep.

If only I knew where their doorstep was.

Georgie mentioned an apartment near the university, but I didn’t know what building let alone an apartment number. Who knew if she and Tylar hadn’t left to visit her family already?

I couldn’t risk it.

I decided to head north, towards the Giantfolk temple. Tylar said they were letting humans hole up in their halls for the winter, after all. Hopefully they’d find me in a few days or weeks. The idea of not seeing Tylar again for a long time hurt. But I couldn’t stay.

It took a bit of effort to climb out of the hole Robin made. When I reached the top of the snow bank, I was surprised at what I saw. Mostly confused, truthfully. The storm had clearly hit, the piles of snow were evidence of that. But the usual walking path and benches looked like the oddest chess board imaginable. Every other bench was covered and piled over like mine had been, while others were mostly clear. The path randomly had clear patches of road among packed snow and ice. A barely made trail zig-zagged through the patchwork snow piles. There must have been at least a few Giantfolk who had the guts to traverse the blizzard’s aftermath.

“HOW IN CADUCEUS’ NAME COULD YOU SCREW UP THIS BADLY, ROGERS?!” a familiar voice bellowed as I slid down to the ground. Coming my way was the park director with Rogers close behind him. It was quite the sight to see them carefully making their way down the trampled trail. “YOU HAD JUST BETTER HOPE NO ONE HAS FALLEN OR FROZEN TO DEATH IN ALL OF THIS!”

“Sir, forgive me, you have to believe me, this could never happen unless-!” Rogers began, stammering out his excuses. He spotted me soon enough, and pointed an accusing finger. “Unless something messed with the crystals! It had to be him, he’s here all the time! Done it to make me look bad, I know it! Nasty little díbeartach shouldn’t be squatting-!”

Something snapped. I wasn’t going to be insulted with Giantfolk slurs, and I wasn’t going to take false accusations.

“OH YEAH, YOU FOUND ME OUT! I DID IT SO I COULD BE BURIED UNDERNEATH THE SNOW AND DIE OF ASPHYXIATION AND HYPOTHERMIA! HOW DID YOU EVER GUESS?! FUCKING MORON.” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

“How dare you-!”

“ENOUGH!” the director interrupted quickly. “Even IF he damaged the crystals, WHICH I DOUBT, it would still fall on you for not casting the proper spells to reinforce them! I had you maintain them all week for this reason! Now go grab a shovel from the equipment shed, and clear this all up the Gan-Bhrí way if you want to keep your job!”

Rogers, thankfully, clammed up and followed the suggestion. I wouldn’t miss him, that was for sure. Maybe in time, he would be a little humbler.

But I doubted it.

“…And where are you off to?” the park director asked. He had noticed my walking away from the bench. “The area should be clear soon enough.”

“Actually, I, um, I think I’m going to find somewhere else to uh…stay. Until the snow melts, anyway.” I found myself replying. The look on his face was…well, it was a surprise. He looked almost crestfallen at the news. It wasn’t something I was expecting from any of the Giantfolk.

“Oh. Will you be back?”

I wasn’t certain why I felt it was important to answer his question. Let alone sincerely.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I will. I mean, if you don’t mind me coming back, bruv.”

“As long as I’m director, you’ll always be welcome. I do admit, I will miss your songs. Your bench will be waiting for you when you return. Safe travels, lad.”

“Thanks. Happy Yggsmas, bruv.”

It took some time to make it to the park entrance. I stopped to take breaks along the trampled snow path. I managed to catch sight of Robin along the way. He was hopping through the snow, much like when he dove into the snow to free me. Not that he saw it, but I waved my goodbye as he passed. Hopefully he would be here when I came back. Life was going to be a struggle for the both of us. I was lucky that what few Giantfolk I crossed along the way stopped to let me pass or made sure to carefully step over me. It was terrifying, to say the least.

But not as terrifying as reaching the public street.

Flashbacks to that first time came rushing as I reached the curb. Doubts flooded in again as I looked around. There would be immense horses pulling carts or carrying riders. The other side of the pavement felt like a kilometer away just looking at it. The Giant guard standing in the crosswalk didn’t help matters either. She seemed to be directing traffic as best she could while the main road was blocked off. A Yggsmas parade perhaps? It was hard to tell and I wasn’t in the mood for sightseeing. I had a goal in mind. When the light changed, I screwed up all my courage and made a mad dash.

Screaming all the way.

I didn’t even make it half way before I had to stop.

“A bit dramatic there, doona ye think?” the Giant guard asked when I stopped. Her eyes were still on her job as I caught my breath. I waited by her, until she gave the all clear to cross again. As I set off, screaming again, she made one last comment. “…Humans. Pfft.”

One corner down at least.

The pavement was manageable enough. There were Giantfolk out, making their way to wherever they needed to be. I kept to the curbside, just in case. Most of the stores were closed, thankfully. I couldn’t imagine making the trek with a large crowd.

“Oh shit, what’s the spring going to look like coming back?” I mumbled to myself as I reached the next corner. The temple was getting closer in sight, thankfully. The street was a little too busy for my liking this time. So, I did something I never thought I’d do.

I took a chance and asked for Giantfolk help.

“Erm, excuse me, miss?” I called out to the Giant next to me. She was dressed to the nines with leather and spikes. Colored appropriately for the holiday, of course. It took all I had not to swat at the jingle bells hanging off of her boot laces. The over-sized crock pot she carried was sure to have something delicious inside. “Think you can help a fella out?”

“How’s that, m’man?” she chuckled once she caught sight of me.

“I, um…I don’t suppose you’d mind if I crossed the road with you? I don’t think I can make it on my own in time.”

“Doona think I can carry ye an’ me pot at the same time.”

“What if I…what if I rode from down here instead?” I asked, staring at her boots. There were enough belts and buckles on them after all. They had to be good for hand and foot holds, right? I took the chance and climbed onto the side of her boot, swatting a bell in the process. “I’ll hop off as soon as we reach the curb. Sound all right?”

“All right by me, mate. Hang on tight, aye? Here we go!”

She did her best to keep her footfalls slow and steady. The rise and fall of each boot was intense. It was like riding some slapped together carnival ride where you just heard several screws come undone. I was grateful of course, but as soon as we reached the other side I hopped off.

“Thanks again, bruv!” I yelled out, waving a quick goodbye. I took a moment to catch my breath against a lamppost. “Holy shit, I am never doing that again.”

The next corner would be the last one I needed to cross.

The road was busier this time, with carts and wagons and carriages and riders practically filling the street. The temple was a busy place to be, it seemed. It felt more like a taxi stop in front of a train station. Many people were being picked up and dropped off, or directed to park somewhere else. I wasn’t sure if I would make it across by myself again.

“Da, look!” a voice called out from above.

I dreaded to turn my head, but turn it I did. The Giant kid had his eyes on me. Ignoring him wasn’t an option. If I didn’t keep on my toes, I would be grabbed. Kids attempted it before in the park. Why would here be any different?

“Yes kiddo, a human. Leave him be now. We have to cross the street, all right?” the father gently said. He had another child in his arms while the curious boy held onto a loaded basket of goodies with him. Otherwise, I was sure he would’ve just picked the kid up. He tugged the basket, in the hopes of urging the boy to start walking. The kid kept watching me instead.

Inspiration struck.

I swung my guitar from its place and started strumming. When the kid giggled, I made sure his eyes were still on me. I ran a bit ahead, strumming a tune. The kid was more eager to cross the street now, with his father in tow. I almost laughed when the Giant dad mouthed the words “thank you” in the middle of the road. Traffic waited for us, as no one was going to make a parent and their children rush across the road. The father distracted him at the last moment so I could make my “escape”. They were halfway up the temple stairs when I hopped up onto the pavement.

“…Oh shit.”

The stairs.

I hadn’t taken literal, Giant-sized steps into account in my plan.

Aches and pains were already creeping into my legs. A few minutes’ walk to the Giantfolk was hours for me. The idea of climbing each step was exhausting just to think about. Maybe this was doomed for failure after all.

“Taking a rest too, my friend?”

I turned to see an older Giant sitting on the steps. His pipe was filled with something sweet and pleasing and comforting. A prayer rug sat rolled up tight in his lap.

“As-Salaam-Alaikum.” I greeted automatically. Not that I expected him to know the saying. But a part of me wished he did.

“Wa-Alaikum-Salaam.” he responded kindly.

“I…I was just trying to figure out how to take on these steps, bruv.”

“Hmm. They are a worthy opponent indeed. These old bones certainly don’t carry quite like they used to.” he said with a puff of his pipe. He gestured to something behind me. “Though I do believe that was made to help you and yours.”

It looked like a slide running down the stairs. A box was set atop it with a cable attached towards the temple. It certainly looked out of place. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? Maybe because I was more worried about making it here alive.

“Oh. That’s…huh. Do you need any help, br…sir?”

“Probably. But I’ll be fine. I just need a few moments. Don’t you worry about me.”

The box would prove to be more than I expected. On closer inspection, I saw a door cut into each side. There sat a bench within, and small crystal chip within reach of the seat. Once I was in place, I took the chance and touched the crystal. It jerked forward in an instant, and slowly made its way forward and upward. It was the most excruciating rollercoaster I’d ever been on. I tried to concentrate on anywhere but outside the box. An eternity later, it finally reached the top of the “hill” and stopped. I scrambled out and watched as it slowly returned itself to the bottom of the steps.

“Oh dear God, never again.” I said aloud. Once my heart started beating again, I turned toward the temple entrance itself. It was tall, and grand, and looked like some kind of Greek or Roman structure on the outside. What little I could see of the interior reminded me more of the cathedrals from home. Glimpses of reliefs, and statues, and stained glass caught my eye.

Now that I was there…I wasn’t sure what to do.

Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

“Welcome, young man.” a voice called from above. A Giant in monk’s robes was standing nearby. She seemed to be the temple greeter, welcoming the other attendees and offering directions or answers when needed. “Do you need any help?”

“I…um…” I started, not sure what to ask or how to ask it. My brain shorted out, I admit. A step forward activated something beneath my feet. Tiles, recently added, now stood out from the ancient floor. A soft blue glow led into the temple and around a corner. It took a moment to realize it was a path meant for humans hopping off the make-shift tram. I turned my attention back to the monk. “There’s a man down the steps who could use a hand, bruv.”

“So there is. Thank you for pointing him out for me. Why don’t you show yourself in and get warmed up?” she offered, gesturing along the blue glowing tiles. The monk was already making her way down the steps before I could thank her. I was glad to hear her once more before I entered the building. “As-Salaam-Alaikum!”

The inside of the temple was busy and overflowing with Giantfolk. The center of it all seemed to contain colossal statues surrounded by worshippers and piles of gifts. Food and trinkets made in offering? I would have to ask for sure once everything settled down. Maybe tomorrow. For now, I would continue following the path before me. It rounded a corner near the entrance and led to an alcove. I should have been interested in the lights hanging above the area, or the drinking fountain that had tubes and ladders and a platform hanging from its side. The paintings and wall mosaics would have been a sight too.

But I was more stunned by what was set up along the wall instead.

Humans.

There were other humans here too.

Familiar lean-tos and tents and bed rolls lined up next to each other. A couple of people were surrounding a fire nearby. No. not a fire: it was another crystal structure. Giving off light and warmth as they sat on benches made of random Giantfolk detritus, it seemed. Boxes and spools and the like. If I hadn’t felt like some kind of Borrower before, it certainly felt like it now. I caught the eye of someone by the crystal, who nudged another next to them. They all turned to look at me.

I offered an awkward wave. My heart jumped for joy at the sight of them returning the gesture.

“WAAAAASSSSEEEEEEEM!”

The rest of me jumped at the sound of my name.

I had barely turned to see who called out for me when I was tackled and spun in place.

“WASEEM! YER ALL RIGHT!” Tylar shouted as he hugged me. I automatically returned the embrace. We were kissing soon enough, but he managed to insult me with each breath. “Ye stupid MWAH idiot MWAH arsehole MWAH bastard MWAH I was MWAH so worried MWAH about ye!”

“We…thought…blizzard…park…bench…cave-in!” Georgie stated from behind him. She was kneeling on the ground, on the other side of the blue tile path. A full basket sat at her side as she tried to catch her breath. “You were…and then…park director…said…headed north…temple…glad you’re…okay…”

“We ran here as soon as we saw the state of the park. We saw yer bench an’ feared the worst, especially with those fox tracks! Thought that damn Robin did something to ye!”

“Heh. He was the one who got me out, actually. I can tell you the whole story.” I replied. “Thank you both for worrying about me. And…I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting, luv. I was an arsehole and I want to make it up to you in any way I can. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Hmm. Maybe. Yer gonna have to work hard at it though. I am very demandin’, ye know.”

“You’re worth it.” I chuckled. I pointed towards the encampment and the other humans, who seemed both anxious and curious at our reunion. “Wanna help me with the meet and greet and pick out a good spot for my tent?”

“I would be happy to. Ye may wanna offer yer thanks to the gods first, though. Tergaians consider it bad luck not to thank’em fer the Sanctuary they provide.”

“You guys go on…I have to make my offerings too.” Georgie said, finally rested. She grabbed her basket and set off in the other direction, waving one more time.

“Oh, do we…uh…do we need to give something to?” I asked as Tylar grabbed my hand and started to lead the way. His confidence in navigating the Giantfolk crowds was both terrifying and amazing.

“Nah, Tergaians and their gods doona expect it. Still, ye shoodne take the chance. I’ve seen the weirdest shit happen when ye doona pay yer respects.” Tylar replied, leading us towards the closest statue. I couldn’t make out who or what it was supposed to be and craning my neck hurt in the attempt. Tylar pointed towards something attached to the base in front of us. It was a poster -no, a photograph- of the very statue, with a summary of who they were and what they did. It didn’t look professionally done, but it was still made with care. “One time, me an’ mum saw an apple sour right in the hands a’ someone who dinna ask befer takin’ from the pile. Ankou may be the Solemn One but he doesne hesitate to act.”

“So, you know all this stuff by heart already, huh?”

“Well, when ye were born an’ raised in an Ankou temple, ye tend to learn a thing or two about the process. Especially when ye canna escape the bellowin’ lectures of Elder Zachary.”

Tylar was keeping his eyes on the statue infographic when I glanced at him. I admit, my jaw had dropped to the floor at the revelation.

“…I dinna mention it cuz ye seemed really hung up on if I were from Earth or not. I…was scared ye’d hate me if ye knew I’m Tergaian-born…” Tylar stated softly. “I dinna wanna lose ye over it.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel the need to hide it. It was…it was stupid of me to think it was so important. I love you, no matter what.” I replied. “And I want to hear all about it, your life and your parents and even Elder Zachary’s proselytizing.”

“No ye doona. Elder Zach was one Hells uv’a blowhard.” he chuckled, turning to face me. I gave him a quick kiss and squeezed his hand. “Mum was born here too. Dad’s from someplace called California. So…I know of Earth but not as much as I’d like.”

“Well, I don’t know as much as I should about Tergaia so…who do you recommend I thank?”

Tylar really opened up as we toured each statue. He gave his summaries and his reasons for thanking each of them. Ankou, a god of Death, for staying his hand that day. Dao-Ming, a goddess of Luck, for the abundance I seemed to have. Kismet, a goddess of Destiny, and the Queen of the pantheon, for writing me a safe path in her book. There were more, and they each received a word of thanks in the “proper way”, as Tylar called it.

It wasn’t until we reached the final statue, the biggest of them all, in the center of the temple. The others were lined in a circle surrounding it, and had been easier to walk between. We had waited for the crowds to dwindle enough to race towards it. The offering pile was immense compared to the others, and for good reason. The picture didn’t look nearly as intimidating as it did from my angle. The man was dressed in a toga, with odd marks on its cheeks, and plaited hair. This statue was of Caduceus, the king of the Gods, a god of Healing.

Healing.

It was definitely something I had needed.

My heart still ached for home, and for Ma, and for how life would be for me in a world of Giantfolk. But something about last night, whether it was the confession to a stranger, or the dream, or even the trek from today, that helped.

The healing process had begun. No matter how small it seemed.

“I…I think I’ll make an offering to this guy.” I said, taking off my backpack. I began rummaging for something, anything to give in thanks. “What do you recommend, luv?”

“It could be anything, really. Just so long as it’s heartfelt or sincere.”

An idea popped to mind. Maybe it didn’t have to be something physical.

“Um, Caduceus, god of Health and Healing, hear my…prayer. I don’t have much in the way of an offering, but I want to thank you…and the other gods too…for letting me stay here. And for looking out for me today. I think. I mean, I avoided death several times today by mere centimeters, so it had to be by some kind of divine providence. Whether it was God, or you, or the other gods, or just…I dunno, the universe.”

The Giant who was kneeling nearby in his own prayer glanced in my direction.

“It’s a long story, bruv.” I told him, grabbing my guitar once again.

“…Humans.” the Giant muttered, returning to his prayer.

“So, just in case you and yours were looking out for me today, I’d like to play a song. It’s a Christmas song. Christmas is…a long explanation, but trust me: it’s in the spirit of the holiday. It’s…it’s my Ma’s favorite, and I miss her a lot. Hopefully it’s…it’s good enough for you, and for these halls.”

With a deep breath, I started playing the first few chords of the cherished tune.

“The holly green, the ivy green The prettiest picture you've ever seen It's Christmas in Killarney With all of the folks at home

It's nice, ya know, to kiss your beau While cuddlin' under the mistletoe And Santa Claus, ya know of course Is one of the boys from home…”

As I sang, I thought of all the Christmases past. Of Ma belting at the top of her lungs to wake me up. Of presents, and discarded gift wrap piles, of cooking breakfast afterwards. Of other holidays, of birthdays, of the good days, and the bad days, of how much I was going to miss her.

Of how hard it was going to be moving forward.

But forward I would go.

I couldn’t stay in one spot any more. This world was mine now, and I was going to learn whatever I needed to.

Not just to survive.

But to live.

To live a life Ma would be proud of.

“…It's nice, ya know, to kiss your beau While cuddlin' under the mistletoe And Santa Claus, ya know of course Is one of the boys from home

The holly green, the ivy green The prettiest picture you've ever seen I'm handin' you no blarney No matter where you roam It's Christmas in Killarney With all of the folks at home!”

Polite applause was heard as I finished up. It wasn’t a surprise to see Tylar showing his appreciation, but the Giant congregant was unexpected. He left soon enough to be replaced by other Giantfolk. By then, me and Tylar were making our way back to the human alcove. Living with people my size, living among humans was something I had wanted for months. The prospect was terrifying after living in the park. But I wanted to make the effort. I needed to make the effort.

I wanted to be normal again.

And I wanted to be normal with Tylar, no matter how long it took.

“…Luv? Would you like to help me write a letter to the king?”