Unnamed

I’m going to do it right, too, with a clear head. I dug into the drawer of my dresser of formal occasion clothes, choosing a neat pair of white pants and a mostly unwrinkled white shirt for today. Guess what else I did! I found the ever elusive hairbrush! It was under my bed with all the other junk I don’t want to see or think about. Turns out I don’t look half bad with fully brushed hair; although, that’s not to say I look half good either. I tied my hair up in pigtails to get it out of my way. I did not, however, use the new hair bands Water gave me when he cut it. Nah, I’ll always use the two lengths of string my mother gave me as a child. That’s one of the few things I remember about her, probably because MacKenzie carried on the daily tradition for her.

Every morning, she’d braid my hair for me. She’d complete the first one and chant as she tied the end, “One for courage,” complete the second and tie it as well, “one for strength,” give me a quick hug, “one for you,” then steal a quick peck on my check, “and one for me.”

Even as I grew older she kept on with it with little variation. She had to wake me up every day anyway, so why not? Maybe Mackenzie was just trying to keep my memories of my mom alive; although, she used to tell me the pieces of twine housed a “wee bit of magic”. Whatever the case, I still do the chant to this day, though there’s nothing for you or me. Just some courage and some strength. It’s a wonder I’ve managed to keep hold of the same strings all this time, what with all the disasters I’ve been through. Perhaps they really are magic.

~~~~~

The following is what happened when I finally tried to be nice to someone. It started out fine enough. I’d just sat down to breakfast in the Aster cafeteria (Who gave food the right to smell so good and be so tempting?) when he approached me.

“Hey, Peregrine,” he said. “May I join you?”

I shrugged and shoved another large bite of pancake into my mouth. What could go wrong? I wondered. He helped me out, the least I can do is oblige him, I thought.

He sat down with a plate that was filled with a bit of everything, and smiled a smile that seemed kind of forced.

I smiled back, and mine was entirely forced.

“So, how are you?” he asked.

“Fine,” I answered. “How are you?”

“Tired. How has she been?”

“Quiet. How has Valerie been? I haven’t talked to her in a while.”

“Busy.” He sighed. “Very busy. How has—uh, well, nevermind.”

“How has Phillip been? Beats me.” I scarfed down some more food. My face was blank. I knew it. Keefe knew it. Nothing else need be said on the matter, and yet....

“‘Fine doesn’t really say much,” he hinted.

I didn’t take it. “There’s not much to be said.”

“Fair point, except... there’s always something much to be said, y’know? Maybe just not to certain people.”

“I guess....”

“Ah, but we don’t know each other well enough for that, do we? What’s your favorite color?”

“Huh?”

“What’s your favorite color?” he repeated.

I was silent for a minute.

“This is how you get to know people,” he prodded.

“Okay... but I really don’t think it is.”

“Mine is gold,” he went on, ignoring my comment.

I shook my head and gave in. “Turquoise.”

He smiled—a real smile this time—his approval with mock triumph. “And why is that?”

“Um... the ocean. Yeah, the ocean.”

“Have you ever seen the gemstone? It has veins of golden color in it. Ha, look at that! We have something in common already!”

I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely interested in the conversation of just a really good actor. And that’s the problem with me. I never believe that anyone wants to be my friend with no ulterior motives. “What’s the point of having things in common?”

“Friends, Miss B. Friends, which—might I add—could prove to be important to you someday.”

The words felt like a slap on the face, and man did that slap sting. I know—I hope he didn’t mean it to, but that’s my punishment for what I’ve done to myself. Even the friendliest words pierce me like finely sharpened arrows.

I didn’t respond to Keefe’s comment.

He must have realized what he’d said, because he quickly changed the subject. “You ever wonder where Aster gets all this food?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You’re difficult. How about... mmm... what’s your favorite food?”

“Not this.” I gestured to my plate with my fork.

“Then how come you’re eating it?”

“I didn’t say it was my least favorite.”

He nodded his assent to this and chewed thoughtfully on his breakfast. “May I ask you something?” he inquired after a lengthy silence.

“I hate it when people ask that,” I grumbled. “Why can’t people just outright ask the question they’re asking about asking?”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time then,” he scoffed.

I set down my fork and pushed my plate away. “I’m sorry. Please, ask me your question. I’m listening.” I made eye contact with him to show that I was paying attention.

He didn’t look away. “Have you ever felt like your head and heart are telling you different things?”

Wow. You really had to ask? I quickly shook the thought away and reminded myself that other people beside me have the capability to be so focused on their own problems that they don’t notice anyone else’s. “I have.”

“How did you choose?”

“I haven’t yet,” I confessed.

“Neither have I. It would be easier if head and heart each spoke more clearly,, wouldn’t it?”

“One needs a good mirror to scrutinize his heart as well as his face.”

“But eyes are the windows to the soul, and they’re on one’s face,” he debated.

I broke from his gaze almost immediately. “The soul and the heart are different.”

“Not by too much.” He stood and gathered his dishes. “Thanks for the talk. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

All I had to say was “Okay” in return. And here I sit still, scribbling down our conversation before I forget a word of it. Oh, look, I’m done already. Time to go do what I actually came here for.

~~~~~

Let me start off by saying that I just violated my policy of being amiable today... again. It’s due to frustration, the byproduct of nasty rumors and not finding anything useful so far. I have a substantial stack of books beside me, but I’m not very hopeful right now. Riley tried to help me.

“I’m the librarian here,” she’d informed me. “Do you need help finding anything?”

“No,” I’d snapped at her, shoving the book I’d been holding back onto the shelf. “I mean, no thank you”—see, I did try—“I’m just—“ I turned to face her. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we’ve ever been officially introduced.” She held out her hand. “I’m Riley Leisure. I know words can be a strong thing, especially here, but I can manage.”

I’d felt like she overstepped her boundaries a little with that comment, for us just having officially met. I glared at her hand for a moment before turning back to the bookshelf. I have a thing against handshakes; too much can easily go wrong. “Peregrine. Just Peregrine, but you know that already.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” she (annoyingly) persisted. “You’d be surprised how few people come in here.”

There are multiple reasons why that doesn’t surprise me. “I told you, I’m just browsing.” It was at this moment that I pulled from the shelf a bundle of papers bound together with thick twine. It was titled “The Insights of a Lowly Messenger”. I dropped it on the floor without examining a single page.

Riley didn’t question my actions, simply said “If you’re looking for something in particular, come and bother me.” and walked towards the large desk in the middle of the room.

I don’t have a lot of time to write this, so here’s the only two important details I gleaned after that and before something else: The library has tight security and SHE’S ROBERT’S SISTER. I would say that escalates my opinion of her, but I’ve never been one to judge people based off who their family members are.

Now, on to the something else—or rather someone else. He ran into the room and slammed right into me, knocking us both to the ground. I tried to catch myself on the bookcase, but my hand landed on another thick folder instead, and papers flew everywhere as I dragged it to the floor with me. I angrily battered a stray page away from my face and sat up to yell at the clumsy idiot.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you—“ he began, then realized who he was talking to. “Nevermind, it’s just you.” He rose to his feet, pried about my haircut, then shrugged and went over to the desk.

I leapt up. “Nothing ‘happened to it, and besides, you’ve already seen it.... Oh well, I guess I still shouldn’t be talking to you. It hasn’t been a week quite yet.” I started cleaning up the mess I’d made—actually, it was mostly Liam’s fault....

“Very true,” he agreed with me. He leaned against the desk, whispering about something with Riley.

I sighed. Whisper whisper whisper. What good does it do? Take the two other gossips in the corner of the library for example. Report only makes mischief greater than it needs to be. Riley and Liam’s conversation was much more interesting—something about a weird boy causing an incident at Riley’s house. That’s honestly all I heard, because after that, my brain instinctively blocked out Liam’s voice. Soon enough (yet not soon enough for me), Liam left, shortly preceded by a new arrival. I gave the newcomer a quick glance. The guy was wearing a jacket like the one Valerie has and pants of the same rough material. He was slightly taller than me, had a funny looking hat, and had blonde hair.

I dropped another book on my stack after making a mental note of his appearance (it’s a habit nowadays), and then approached Riley to ask about her and Liam’s discussion. I wasn’t genuinely curious, just... curious. “What was that all about?”

She looked up from her fancy device. “What?”

“Uh... Liam. I’m just curious.”

“We were just talking, no need to pry.” She fidgeted with some papers.

“Well, no, there’s never any need to pry. I simply find it fun.” I drummed my fingers on the desk and peeked at denim dude for a second. Who is he?

"Okay... Well, would you like to check out yet or...?"

“No, I... I’ll be here for a little bit longer.” I sat down to read for a little while.

Here’s what I learned: nothing, nothing, and nothing. Liam was (barf) right. There’s nothing specifically about Ember. I’d hoped I could at least find some weaknesses in Firidi itself, or her castle, but there’s not much in these books but facts. Useless, boring facts. They’re not even worth jotting down. It’d be a waste of paper!

After a while, denim dude came to the front desk and checked out his books. As he did so, I slammed my book shut. I was upset, okay? There were worse reactions I could have had. I reached out to slide another book off my teetering stack, and the whole thing suddenly toppled to the floor right before the guy walked past me.

“Sorry....” I mumbled, and leaned down to pick up my stuff.

He paused to help me. I didn’t ask for it, didn’t want it, don’t deserve it.

I plunked the things I had down in the chair again. “Thanks...” I trailed off, expecting him to fill the silence with his name.

He instead offered my name. "You must be Peregrine?"

“Yeah. Says who?”

"Sorry, that might've seemed rude." I noticed that his eyes were grey. Interesting, considering what I’d just read.

“No. Well, yes, but I know I’ve been... the subject of some rumors lately. So, who are you?”

"Nobody worth mentioning. Nice meeting you." When he turned to leave I saw the title of his book, How to Escape a Time Loop by Scarlet Bones. I have two questions about that: How would Scarlet know and why would he need to know?

I decided not to ask about it. I didn’t need to know. “You’ve already been mentioned; I asked who you were. Now, it’s more rude not to answer.” I folded my arms.

"It would be better for both of us if I didn't tell you." His eyes flashed to Riley for a minute. "Nice to meet you." He walked away.

I rolled my eyes at his retreating back and started sorting through my books, mumbling, “Can’t really say I met ya.” I carried an armful of rejected books back to the bookshelf and began shoving things back into their places.

"Do you need help with anything?" Riley asked from the desk.

I stopped for a moment and thought about it. “Yeah. I need to know if I can burn that before it rots somebody’s brain.” I pointed at Toby’s pathetic excuse for a book.

"Uh, sorry, no. What Aster rank are you on?"

I shrugged. “Red, or something. What do you care?”

"Do you want to hear something? I probably shouldn't be telling you, but they shouldn't keep this silent."

“I hear lots of things, whether I want to or not.” I sat down again and faced her. “So what is it?”

"Well, three days ago there was a mysterious robbery. There were a few minor things taken. A telescope, a few books, things like that. But the Room of Records was ransacked. Almost every red-ranked and up member's file was taken. The leaders of Aster are trying to cover all of this up."

I briefly laughed with no real trace of humor. “Mine was already gone. Lucky me.”

"Yeah, you'd be surprised how many go missing.”—according to Riley, it seems like I should be surprised about many things. None of which have I really been surprised by.—“The worst part is that I don't think the leaders are planning on doing anything about this. The robber stole tons of information from our best members. There were only two people who witnessed the robbery, but the leaders forbade them of telling anyone else. And cameras at that time were all shut down somehow, so there's no way to research it that way."

“Well, since you for one are feeling so chatty, do you know who witnessed it?”

"Scarlet and Liam saw it. Liam said they were just getting something out of the Room of Records and they saw the person there."

“Of course he did,” I muttered, almost too quiet to be heard. “So, he tell you who did it?”

"The person was wearing a hood, or something like that."

“They always are.” I have a suspicion that Riley was lying, but a liar always thinks other people are lying. Reminds me of something I was warned about a long time ago: A liar better have good memory.

"Yup, are you sure you don't need help finding any books?"

I grabbed a folder from my collection and threw it open. Here’s where I failed my policy. I was tired of her offering me help. “What’s your problem, lady? I’ve said no like three times.”

"Wow, I was just trying to be helpful." She turned back to her computer.

And you know why I don’t want your help, Little Miss Ocean Eyes? Because—oh great, here’s Keefe again.

~~~~~

Oh, right. I suppose I’ll pick up where I left off...

“Hello, Peregrine,” he said to me.

“It’s only been two hours.”

He sat down in a chair next to me, staying close to the edge of his seat. “Were you hoping to avoid me for longer?”

“No! Well, not exactly....”

He shook his head at me. “I came to tell you I figured it out.”

“What?”

“Head and heart are one in the same. They just have different plans to reach the goal.”

“You think so?”

He rubbed his temples. “It still doesn’t help make the choice.”

“Well—“

Two girls came into the room and stood a few feet away from Keefe and me. I didn’t bother trying to finish my cut off sentence, not only because they were too close for comfort but also because my idea was stupid anyway. The two began chattering about, well, me, as if I wasn’t a mere 5 steps away from them. I sank a little lower in my chair and held my book up a little higher.

Keefe gave me a look of mild concern and toned down his voice, “Are they talking about you?”

I reached out to my stack, grabbed a random book, and swung it against his chest. By the volume of the thud, I knew I’d succeeded in hitting him pretty hard. “Why don’t you put your nose in a book instead of in my business?”

He begrudgingly started reading. I hadn’t meant to be so rude. He’d been nice to me all day, and was clearly dealing with some business of his own. Hence why I don’t make friends—I disappoint them. Keefe stood up soon after, leaving his book on his chair, and walked up to the front desk. He spoke so low that it was obvious he didn’t intend for me to overhear whatever he was saying to Riley, but my hairpin heals and enhances, so... yeah. I tried to ignore him anyway. Tried.

After asserting that this business was actually his business, he casually approached the bookshelf the gossipers were standing at. He began idly looking at books, standing close enough to overhear their lies. Partial. Partial lies.

"I heard that she killed—"

"Yeah, and then apparently both of them disappeared for months or something and—"

"Of course! Do you think something happened in that time?"

"Maybe. What if the drama has something to do with the stolen files?"

"What stolen files?"

"You haven't heard?"

Keefe then attempted to take my punches for me. I didn’t appreciate it at the time, but I need to come to terms with the fact that—nevermind. At this point, Liam had returned to the library and was again speaking with Riley. Keefe walked by me, on his way to the desk as well. I glared at him as he went by, and opened my mouth to deny his right to meddle, but he met my eyes and subtly shook his head.

I could hear his voice, Not here.

I pressed my lips into a thin line and stared him down as he arrived at the front desk. He ignored me, and patiently waited for Liam to stop talking to Riley. Keefe was probably right. It wouldn’t have garnered me any good fortune with those girls if I’d opened my big mouth. Nothing that happened afterwards is worth mentioning AT ALL, until there was a loud bang, crash, and shattering from the lobby. Keefe hurried out of the room to find the source of the noise. I shouldered my bag and peeked out the doorway after him. Liam left Riley at the desk and looked out the door too. The grand chandelier that had been hanging in the lobby was shattered all over the floor. There were only a few people in the lobby, including the two gossiping girls from the library. They all seemed fine, though a little startled. The only clue to what had caused the catastrophe was the sound of footsteps running up the stairs. Whoever they belonged to was already at the top and out of sight. Keefe practically flew up the stairs in pursuit. I leaned over and picked up a shard of crystal that had skidded towards the library door. I inspected it for a second before slipping it into my bag. Who knows what uses it could have? Several that I could think of in the moment.

Liam kicked a shard of glass, and it slammed into the wall. "I never liked that chandelier anyway."

I didn’t acknowledge Liam’s statement; I was too busy thinking my own thoughts about broken chandeliers. I used to laugh at them. I tugged on one of my pigtails and marched up the stairs to scrutinize the weapon that had been left at the top. A black crossbow with a leather handle. On the bottom there were letters in what seemed to be a different language. Scarlet was one of the people who had been barely missed by the falling chandelier. She called someone on her phone, started talking very fast about a assassin, and speed-walked out of the room. Toby Pringles dashed over from somewhere upstairs, snatched the crossbow without slowing down, and yelled “EVIDENCE!” as he blasted through the chandelier mess and into another room. I nearly got knocked down the stairs, and angrily shouted “PRINGLES!” at Toby’s wake.

"I hope it was him so I have an excuse for punching him." Liam said from below. He picked a bronze arrow out of the pile of glass. The arrowhead was golden.

I came back down the stairs and stood about a foot away from Liam, silently contemplating the arrowhead’s design. There’s someone who knows lots about arrows and such, but he wasn’t there to give it a look.

"Here." Liam threw it to me. He carefully made his way back through the few feet of glass he’d gone through to retrieve the arrow.

I caught it by the shaft, narrowly avoiding piercing my hand on the tip. I still didn’t speak to Liam; we had an agreement, after all.

"Why don't you give it to the evidence guy?" Liam shook his head and went back into the library.

I followed him. I had no intention of willingly speaking to Toby Pringles, so I set the arrow on Riley’s desk. “Evidence,” I declared. I then gathered up the rest of my books (which were a rather small pile by now) and dropped them on the desk as well. “I’m ready to go now.”

Riley inspected the arrow and didn’t acknowledge me for the ten minutes it took Liam to tell her what we’d seen. Liam finally stopped yapping long enough for me to get a word in, but before I could, we heard a full blown explosion from the lobby. I darted back out of the library and was greeted with the sight of Keefe battling with a dark purple haired, sunglasses wearing, Aster hoodied boy. I snuck up behind the stranger and stuck my foot out as he elbowed Keefe in the stomach and turned to escape. He tripped over my well-placed foot and fell flat on his face in the chandelier shards.

I shook my head at the recovering Keefe. “Always protect the stomach, dude.”

The stranger rolled over with a slight grunt. He pushed something to the power bracelet I’d been just in time to see Keefe slap on him, and it fell on the floor. The boy didn't get up, but threw another grenade at a certain spot on the wall by the front door. The grenade exploded a second later, and all the lights flickered off. I created an orb of fire, which hovered over my hand. The flames glinted off the chandelier shards, sending intricate patterns around the room. It looked pretty cool, but no one had time to appreciate the lights. A silver portal suddenly appeared under the stranger. He fell in, and the portal disappeared. I saw Nell standing in the doorway of the office room with a gloved hand outstretched in that direction. Keefe stared blankly at the empty spot, before walking in the library (presumably to talk to Riley about fixing the lights). Meanwhile, I glared at Nell; not because I was annoyed that the stranger was gone, but simply because I dislike Nell. She glared back at me, but there was a satisfied look on her face too. The only clue left as to who the stranger is was a few drops of green blood on the ground.

“Penelope,” I said icily by way of greeting.

"Peregrine." Nell turned around and went back into the office room.

Keefe and Riley came out of the library, and I whirled to face them. “Can I check out now?” I tiredly asked Riley.

"Sorry, let me fix the lights real quick. It should only take a minute." She went over to the broken patch in the wall and inspected it.

I nudged around the glass on the floor with my shoe while I waited, eventually heading over to give Riley the brightest of the light.

She took out some gadget thing and attached it to the sizzling box of wires. Then the lights flickered back on. "That should last a few hours. I'll get some more tools, and make it permanent. First, let's see about those books."

“Yep.” I closed my hand and the fire went out. I strode ahead of Riley into the library. Keefe caught up with me, and tried to continue our earlier chat, not mentioning previous events once.

“Peregrine, I think we should talk somewhere more private later. I’m concerned that—“

Riley came in, and I cut him off, “Thank you for your concern, but I really don’t need it right now.” I marched over to the desk and shoved my books, which were still sitting on the desk, towards Riley.

"Sorry, but I need your pass to check out the books," she said.

“I don’t know what that is….” I grumbled.

"Your rubber-band?"

“Right.” I flicked it at her.

She scanned it and handed it back to me. She scanned the books too, and stuck a receipt in one of them. "Make sure you have them back by the due date."

“Right,” I said again. I shoveled the books into my bag. It was a wonder the thing could hold that many; although, considering who its owner used to be, that’s not so surprising. I picked up my rubber-band.

"Have a good day," Riley encouraged.

I laughed drily. “Sure.” Then I left.

Good, now all the morning’s junk is out of the way. I can write about what matters now. I’ve spent the entire afternoon reading. And reading. And reading. And reading. And wondering. Anyway, I’ve made a list of everything useful I’ve found so far, such as the fact that there’s hardly any humidity in the desert. An obvious fact, perhaps, but good to know if someone with water powers were to try and put out Ember’s fire at any point. It wouldn’t work, is what that means. I’m sure there’s a good sized oasis near the castle, but my point still stands. There wouldn’t be enough water even if that’s the case. I don’t know why it’s good for me to take note of this anyway. I don’t have water powers, I’m not in Firidi, and I don’t plan on fighting Ember any time soon. Maybe one day... if it’s even possible to defeat her. And... and if my help in doing so would even be wanted/needed. Time will tell. Patience may be bitter, but its fruit is usually sweet.


Thursday, February 2, 2023

I did it. I snapped. I didn't just tell myself, either. Why do I bother writing it down? I don't. I won't. I can't. Let's just talk about everything and anything else that happened today. Grueling training is what that was. I'm so exhausted that I don't know how my head hasn't just slammed onto my desk yet. Why aren't I sitting on my bed instead? I could go curl up, close my eyes, and forget about the past four months. Uh, six months? I don't know. Time warps are weird. Everything was so... fun, before. There wasn't any reason to think about the future. It would just come when it came, and that was fine with me, because the future looked bright. But, now...

Grueling training. I'm supposed to be writing about that. I've been practicing with my fire, and this morning I was determined to get teleporting down. "Don't quit the first time you get it right. Quit when you cease to get it wrong," that's what Konrad taught me. However, I think an amendment should be added: you may also quit when you're completely sapped of all energy but basic function, which is what happened to me. I went on for hours and hours... and hours. I can't remember a time I've worked harder for something, but that might be partly due to the fact that I can't remember much right now besides--anyway, um... yeah, there's actually no anyway. I have nothing else to add to this entry. Goodbye.

...

Hello again. It's me... again, duh. It's been all of five seconds since I said goodbye, but whatever. I lied, obviously. I'm gonna write it down and immortalize this day for forever. Or maybe I'll sear this journal to bits when I'm done. Yep, that sounds like a good plan. Without further ado, here's the story of how I bared my heart and soul to the wrong person, because I chickened out too many times with the right one.

I got out of bed (where I'd been lying without the mercy of sleep since I'd gotten done with my fire) and decided to get some dinner. I'd just put my hand on the doorknob when the door suddenly swung inwards, banging into my head and stubbing my toe at the same time. I tripped over my own feet and tumbled backwards onto the floor.

"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed Valerie, stepping into my room from the Time Hall. "Are you okay?"

I just groaned and didn’t move.

She shut the door and offered me a hand. "What are the odds that you’d be standing there right when I opened the door?"

"Pretty high with you," I grumbled as she helped me up. "Why are you here?"

"To see how you’re doing. We haven’t talked in while." She sat—uninvited—on my unmade bed.

I glared at her. "What did Keefe tell you?"

"Only what I needed to hear."

"And what did you 'need' to hear?"

"I need to hear how you’re doing."

"I’m fine."

"Don’t lie to me."

I looked away from her. "As far as it concerns you, I’m fine."

"Alright," she said, "then I won’t try to sugarcoat why I’m here. You need to talk to somebody about what Phillip did before it crushes you."

"What Phillip... wait, crushes me? I don’t—I’m fine. Leave me alone."

"Yeah, that won’t work on me. I’m not leaving until you tell the truth. Is that too much to ask for?"

I flopped onto the bed and buried my face into a pillow. "Yes, it is."

"Did he even tell you goodbye?" she gently asked.

"N—not in so many words. Why should I tell you?"

"Because I asked? No, look, you’re not yourself, Perry."

I slid off the bed and inched over to my desk. I picked up Phillip’s note and un-crumpled it, staring at the dagger-like words for a second before sighing and retreating back to the bed. I plunked down, shoved the paper into Valerie’s hands, and wrapped my arms around a pillow. She scanned the note once, twice, over and over. I dropped my face into the pillow, not wanting to watch her eyes flick back and forth anymore.

"Idiot," she mumbled. "Shortsighted, careless, reticent idiot."

I tried to hold back a sob as tears started flowing. He didn’t deserve to be called those things... does he?

"You’re not mad at him?"

My shoulders shook with each breath. "Of c-course I am."

"But…?"

"But I-I s-should have noticed. L-looking back I can see some s-signs, but I… I’m m-more mad ay mys-self."

Valerie put out a hand to comfort me, but hesitantly took it back. I don’t know if it was because she didn’t know how to hand me of all people pouring out my thoughts (and tears) or because she figured I’d lash out at her for it.

"I’ve b-been a t-terrible friend," I blubbered.

She made up her mind this time, grabbing me by the shoulders and gently shaking me. "Be sensible, Perry. It’s not your fault; don’t blame yourself. Phillip doesn’t exactly wear his heart on his sleeve, does he?"

"What d-does that mean?"

"It—he just doesn’t show all his emotions clearly all the time."

"He shouldn’t have to," I replied. "A true friend should be able to tell when… when—"

"Friend?" I might have had my face hidden, but I could still feel her sympathetic smile. "You love him, don’t you.” It clearly wasn’t a question.

"L-love him?" I stood up, letting the snotty pillow flop to the floor. I began pacing. "I-I love his stupid jokes, I love the way he smiles, I love it when he blabbers about meaningless things when the meaningful is close to spilling out. I love the way he looks at me when he’s happy, scared, or sad—when there’s danger, when I’m upset, when I need him most of all. In fact, I upright love his bright, reassuring eyes and his every word he says or writes, even when they’re bad. I love it when he calls me 'Pear', and the way he takes even the most useless gems everywhere. I love it every time we dance, and how I can read his thoughts with just a glance. I love him just for being nice to me, because that’s what started changing everything. He changed the way I used to be, the very way I used to think. Valerie," I stopping pacing, looked her right in the eye, and burst into fresh tears, "of course I love him."

Her expression was absolutely bewildered. She moved her jaw up and down, trying to formulate a response. I can’t blame her. I was a little shocked myself. I went to the window and threw open the curtains, letting them swoop closed behind me. There in that little box it created, I felt like I could breath for a minute. I rested my forehead against the window glass. I felt like puking, actually.

"Perry..." Valerie said softly. "Why didn’t you tell him?"

My mind flashed to all the times I nearly had. When we’d returned from our brief lapse in time, after the incident with Ember trying to mind control me, during the ball... just to name a few. And there’s one reason I never went through with it on all those occasions.

I spoke around the lump in my throat, "Because I... I knew how he would respond."

"I don’t understand you. Why wouldn’t you tell him then?"

"Not everyone can be like you and Keefe, Valerie! It’s so easy for you two to be spokes on the same wheel, but Phillip and me? I mean, Phillip is great at helping people and comforting people, and... I’m not. I don’t know how to be in love with someone," I whispered the last bit, finally admitting the truth. "You’re lucky, Valerie."

Apparently though, she didn’t seem to agree. "Don’t pretend like you know about anyone else’s problems, Peregrine."

"Wh-what?"

"It’s so easy for me and Keefe, is it? You have no idea what we’re—what we’ve been through."

I pulled back the curtains a little bit. Valerie was standing now, and had her fists clenched—one still holding Phillip’s note. She looked pretty angry besides the fists, too. "I-I’m sorry," I said. "I didn’t mean to—"

"Maybe that’s your problem," she spat. I’ve never seen her so mad before. "You don’t mean to do anything—nothing you say or do has purpose behind it. Oh, unless you’re trying to hurt people, apparently. Have you been wondering why Phillip didn’t tell you what was going on? Maybe because he didn’t think you’d care. You never seem to, anyway, as much as you might. Actually try to show it next time, why don’t you?"

"Listen, I didn’t mean—I mean—no, I just… I’m sorry for assuming your life was easy. I was just upset and—"

She held up a hand to cut me off, dropping the paper in the process. "If you love him, you’d better tell him before it’s too late. Show that you care somehow, and maybe he’ll trust you, accept you, whatever it is you want. And don’t worry about me telling him. Believe me, I have a plenty of words to say to him, but those belong to you."

I wish she’d have left after making that statement. I felt horrible—for being so thoughtless about her life and for every little thing to do with her far more preferable cousin. But, you know what? She didn’t leave. Just stood there, fuming at me with no words.

"Um… thank you?"

She rolled her eyes and headed to the door. "Still as selfish as always, aren’t you?" she muttered on her way. I hate that hairpin sometimes.

Valerie slammed the door so hard when she left that the thud is still pounding around on my insides, and it’s been about 3 hours since she was here. Or maybe that pounding on my insides is her words. As selfish as always. She’s right. I didn’t tell Phillip because I wasn’t sure how to be with someone. It’s been a long time since my days as part of a crew, so I’ve been out of practice. But, what if—and this is an unlikely situation—I was crushing Phillip’s hopes with my silence? I mean, he could have said something instead, but didn’t either. Is that thought just me being selfish again? I really hope not. I’m sick and tired of being so—so confused! I’m constantly running in circles, I can’t tell up from down, and it’s all because of this boy. This boy who I miss more than I can bear anymore. I need him. He understands me better than anyone else—even [Florian], at this point. He would know how to set my swirling thoughts straight. I just wonder if he needs me. Why would he though? I’m not a good person, not a good friend, and would probably not be a good more-than-that.

I miss him though. I miss all the things I love about him. I just miss him. He was such a constant presence, by my side for about two whole years without hardly ever being apart for more than half a week. I could never have imagined something like this happening. I thought I was done with grief and pain, but that’s exactly something a stupid 18 year-old would think. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me. Feels like I’ve already been through enough for two lifetimes. When does it end? I don’t see a bright future anymore, and that hurts, because I don’t know how Phillip would respond anymore. I don’t seem to know much about anything anymore.


Friday, February 3, 2023 I have a confession to make. It doesn’t compare to yesterday’s in the slightest, but yesterday is kind of what it’s about. Here’s the thing, ever since I spouted all that stuff yesterday, I’ve actually felt better. Like, I—it’s hard to describe. Of course I still feel guilty, regretful, and sick to my stomach, but I also feel somewhat lighter now. The secret is finally out... to only one person who’s not much of a gossip, but still. I love him. I’d write it a thousand times if that would somehow make him hear it. Unfortunately, the only way for him to hear it is for me to say it, not write it. I wish I could go say it right now. The orange gem is in my hand. He’s only one thought away. One single thought, and yet so far. I can’t do it. I want to more than anything, but... he may not want to see me.

I used to be so headstrong that I would have done it without hesitation. I would have gone to him, confronted him about, well, everything. I still don’t have a good reason for not doing that though. Maybe I’ll try to find one today, so I can render it null and void. So I can talk myself into reaching out to him. So I can tell him I—

~~~~~ [You’ll Know When It Turns Invisible]

Spoiler alert: I didn’t find that reason today. I found nothing but trouble today, and I’m likely in for more tomorrow. Allow me to walk you through this chronologically. I find that doing it that way helps me organize my thoughts. I’ll start at the beginning, except that the beginning is already written down. I’ll start from there, then.

This morning, I was interrupted from my writing by a knock on the door. More of a banging, really. I think the messenger who was knocking is still holding a grudge over what happened last time. He’s learned his lesson though, because he didn’t force me along this time. He did glare, however, and I glared back. An hour later, I’m trudging through the woods on a fool’s errand with a sword that’s the equivalent of a stick—a very thin stick that would snap with the slightest pressure. Oh, did I skip over too many details? This was me fulfilling that bogus deal with Odysseus. I’ll spare you our conversation; he is the most... there’s not really a word to describe it. Eh, he’s from the south. Anyway, he basically told me to retrieve something from flippin’ BANDITS for him. Retrieve, not steal. Like, he knows these guys. That type of shady dealing. I knew this was stupid the moment I shook his hand. Right, and not just any bandits, the Lost Valley bandits. The guys who—y’know what? I don’t have the patience to give a history lesson right now!

So, there I was, marching along the bank of the Zaporoo River, glorified stick in hand. I’d only gotten that after some heated haggling, too. What a waste. The thugs were supposedly gonna meet me halfway. The whole thing reeked of ill intentions, but did I pay attention to the smell? Nope. I hardly care anymore. Bandits who could potentially snap my neck and rip Odysseus’s side of the trade out of my cold, dead hands? Let ‘em, why not? They obviously didn’t, since I’m here writing this, but whatever. My only thought as I tripped over tree roots and various bits of foliage was, How, just how, did I get into this mess? And I didn’t just mean the situation I was in today. I meant lots of things. I’m tired of this; let’s skip ahead.

I arrived at the rendezvous point first, but I didn’t have to wait long before the largest man I have ever encountered came crashing out of the forest. What more can I say about him? He was like a mirewock in human form. One pleasant exchange of code words later, I held out Odysseus’s sack of what I assumed was money. I sure hope that’s what it was, anyway. The ruffian yanked it out of my grasp and grinned down at me. It was the type of grin that forms a pit in your stomach, makes you realize exactly how dumb you are, and promises you won’t live to see the next day. He let all that sink in for a minute before reality pinched my arms against my body and tucked me under its tree trunk sized arm. Reality was another man in this case, by the way. I’d been duped and double-crossed, but did that surprise me? Not in the slightest.

I grumbled an insult at both guys, then turned myself into a human torch. It wasn’t exactly what I’d meant to do, but it worked, and only terrified me a little bit. Progress! My captor, Thug Number Two, THREW ME IN THE RIVER! And when I say "threw", I actually mean LAUNCHED. I hit the water with an audible slap! perfectly in the middle of the river, but that isn’t what hurt the most. Let me ask you this: Do you know how it feels when your entire body bursts into flames only to be immediately doused in frigid water? It feel like lemon juice squeezed into an open wound. I kicked to the surface of the water and gulped in a breath as I was swept downriver. The Zaporoo doesn’t flow super fast, but Thug Number One and Two’s shouts already sounded distant. I suddenly slammed into something, felt solid ground, and heard a bang. The sound of the river and the yelling were gone. I was lying in a puddle of water on something thick and soggy. Gross. I rubbed droplets out of my eyes and coughed until I could breathe again. Then, I opened my eyes to a muddled sense of deja vu. I batted my eyes until the fuzzy ring of blue formed into hair, surrounding an all too familiar face.

"Hi," I rasped.

"What did I tell you?" she asked.

"Um, when, exactly?"

She grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. We were inside one of the Time Hall’s ugly little safe rooms—four red-ish purple walls, a red-ish brown rug, and a stout metal rectangle against one wall. Lovely.

"I tried to warn you that this would happen."

I squeezed my sopping wet hair out over the rug, and stuck my tongue out at her. My hair would dry pretty quickly once my inner flame started heating up again, but I just wanted to be snarky. It felt good.

"Real mature, Perry," Calypso ridiculed. "Real mature. Now stay here for a minute. I’ll be right back." She opened the Safe Room door and slipped out too fast for me to see where she was going.

I would have followed, of course, but the doorknob was literally gone. I pounded on it a few times to no avail. At this point, all I wanted was to go home. Where even is home anymore? Andresia’s really only ever been where I lived, not my home, and now.... Home is supposed to be the place where one is happy. The place where one feels wanted and needed and... loved.

I leaned my head against the door and sighed long and loud. I’m not the type of person who can sit for extended periods of time without something to do. I’m not sure I fully trusted Calypso to come back for me, either. I paced around the room for all of five minutes before the little metal box got on my nerves. It was buzzing, buzzing, buzzing. I recalled the lesson Water had once given me on those things. A frimidget, or something. They’re somehow connected to a power source, and if you disconnect it, then the buzzing stops. Simple, right? Wrong. It seemed like forever before I was finally able to budge it a mere inch away from the wall. The aches and bruises I had from getting flung into the river didn’t help. Guess what I found back there when I got the hunk of junk moved: another door. This one was dwarf sized, but unlocked, so I opened it. I could only gasp at what lay before me, both in shock and awe.

A sheer drop into a dark void hung directly outside the opening, but beyond that were the beautiful floating islands of Time Land—or whatever it’s called. Brilliant blue waterfalls, shining castle-like buildings, and a wide open sky. That’s a view I could sure get used to.

"Nice, isn’t it?" Calypso commented over my shoulder.

I flinched and had to catch myself on the doorframe to keep from tumbling into the abyss. Only mildly frightening.

"Oh, relax." The petulant pixie firmly shoved my back, sending me sprawling forwards. "It’s an illusion."

My yelp was cut off with an oof as I smacked against an invisible floor with the void right below. Again, only mildly frightening.

She stepped passed me, not stopped to help me stand this time. "Come on, it’s moving day."

"What?"

"Do I have to repeat everything for you? People in Andresia are trying to murder you for all sorts of stupid reasons, you’ve got to get away from there, blah blah blah. Make sense now?"

"No?"

"For Peter’s sake, get up and come with me."

I got up and followed her with wobbly knees. Voids are a bit more scary when the solid ground you came from is further away.

"The Time Hall has plenty of extra rooms," explained Calypso, "One is yours now. Congratulations." She didn’t sound very congratulatory.

I spent the rest of our walk trying to come up with a compelling reason not to move to the Time Hall for the time being. Calypso spent our walk attacking all my reasons with better ones for moving. But, I’m writing this from my room in Andresia. Why? I have no idea, and neither does Calypso. We reached the end of our journey just fine. There was a plain mint-colored door that opened into the Hall. Calypso stepped inside easily; I, however, didn’t make it. My head bumped directly into nothing. There was an invisible barricade in the doorway.

"Very funny," I snapped at Calypso, rubbing my bruised forehead.

"I didn’t do that!" she claimed.

To save time and wrist cramps, I’ll let you know that a lot of trial and error went into getting me inside the Time Hall, but nothing worked. The pixie said she’ll figure out what’s going on and fix it. She told me to be ready by tomorrow morning.

"Why so early?" I asked.

"The sooner the safer, unless you want to give that Odd-ysseus guy time to kick down your door and attack or jail you," she answered.

"Fair enough." I’m already packed. All I had to do was toss some clothes and my miniature treasure chest of belongings in the satchel. Phillip’s note and our masks from the ball are still on the desk though. I’m bringing them, of course, I just don’t want to move them right now. Oh, and the poison gem. I should probably hold on to that, in case—just in case. I can’t forget the healing gem (which came in handy today) either, but that... stays right where it is for tonight.

Life is changing tomorrow, and that’s the thing that truly scares me. This was my choice though. Calypso made that clear to me before we parted ways. If she comes to get me tomorrow morning and I tell her I’m staying, she said she’ll leave me be. My loss, my mistake. That’s basically what she inferred. So, I’ve made the choice to go. What do I have to lose? I’ve been asking myself that question a lot lately, and the list gets shorter every time. Maybe a fresh start is what I need. What could go wrong?


Sadurday, February 4, 2023

He came. I woke up in a dream, but dreams never last long, do they. But, for too short a time, he was there. I’d been lying in bed stuck in the half-asleep haze that blurs the lines between imagination and realism. I’d been facing wall, and rolled over with the goal of getting more comfortable. I couldn’t have expected what I saw. He was there. Was he really there? I wasn’t sure. All I could do was gasp. I sat up halfway, keeping myself upright with an elbow braced against the bed. I wasn’t sure what to say, what to do, what to think.

"Phillip..." I mumbled, "is it really you?"

He took his poison gem from my bedside table and shoved it in his pocket. "Yeah...."

It was so nice to hear his voice, to simply see his face. I still didn’t believe it. I slowly rose out of bed, staring at the poorly done stitches over a large cut on his forehead. Idiot, I thought, you need that gem more than I do. I instantly became worried about him. How could I possibly have thought he’d be okay in Firidi? I reached up and gently felt the scratch. His ever so slight wince was the only pinch I needed to confirm this was real.

I seized his hands, and hopefully his full attention. "Wait," I choked out, "please don’t leave yet."

He glanced down, and his were glassy when he looked back up. That’s what broke me. I’ve never seen him cry like that before, and I never want to again. That moment was the first time I allowed myself to look at him as someone I loved. I knew I was crying too, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that I didn’t want him to. I could hardly stand it. I wanted to hold him close and tell him to stop, please stop. But... I’d asked him not to leave, instead. Don’t leave me again.

"But... I should go," he weakly protested.

I couldn’t stop my words when they began spilling out, "Please… tell me what’s going on. I’ve missed you, you jerk, but I trusted you. I’m not going to try and chase you or stop you. I—I want to help you. Please... I...."

"I—you can’t help me. If only...." He dropped my hands and felt something in his pocket. I wish I’d have known what he was thinking.

"I just want to—to understand. Maybe I can’t help you, but..." I trailed off. I can’t help him, and why does that hurt? Because I know it’s my fault. I’d pushed him away over and over and over. I threw my arms around him, suddenly afraid he might disappear again if I didn’t hold tight. "I’ve been a horrible friend, haven’t I?" I whispered into his shoulder. "I’ve dragged you into all of my problems and never once stopped to consider yours. Give me a chance now, please."

He stayed limp for a second before hugging me back. It was brief, I know, but it felt like time slowed. It felt safe and warm, and all at once I realized something. That was what I wanted, for eternity.

All too soon, he stepped back and studied me for a moment. "What in the world happened to your hair? I know now’s not the best time to ask, but I’m curious."

I couldn’t help but smile for a split-second. There was m—the old Phillip, never serious for long. I miss that guy. "I asked Monty to cut it. I don’t know, I just... needed a change." I rubbed the tears off my face, wishing that things didn’t have to change so often.

"But where are the rats going to live now?" he asked. "And how have you been?" He looked out my bedroom window. I hadn’t noticed it was raining before then. Such a soothing sound...

I sat down on the bed and pulled my gaze away from him, slipping the heart gem out from under my pillow for a distraction. I absentmindedly rolled it around in my palms while I thought about my answer. Might as well be honest, I figured. I’m tired of lying to him—to everybody, but him most of all. "I left the rats at your house. I’ve been... honestly? Awful. But, I promised myself to... to leave your business to you this time. How have you been?"

Phillip sat down next to me. I had flashbacks to old times, but we were laughing in those. It ached to know that either way things turned out, nothing would ever be quite like that again.

"I’m doing fine," he said. "Honestly though, not really."

"You can tell me about it..." I offered, "if you want to, that is."

"Well, I tripped... and it’s always cold despite it being in a desert."

I closed my fingers around the gem. "The world always seems cold when one’s alone...."

I regretted the words the minute they left my mouth. Why couldn’t I have said something comforting? Offered him a warm hand to hold? I should have added on to what I said, "but one doesn’t have to be alone." I didn’t say it though. A moment of silence passed between us. An opportunity passed at the same time.

Phillip stood. "Yeah, I don’t like it there, but she’s the only person who can help me...."

I stared down at my lap, unable to meet his eyes as I spoke. They would have only rendered me speechless, as they used to. My words came out in barely a whisper, "Well, even if I can’t help you, you know where I am if you need me."

"I—I didn’t even need my gem," he admitted.

I don’t know how true that statement was, but I wanted to believe it. I really did, so I smiled and simply said, "I know."

"I’ll always need—" He abruptly stopped and lost his balance for a moment, somehow.

I leapt up and held his arm to steady him, even though he probably didn’t need it anymore. "You," I finished for him, yet... more for myself. It wasn’t exactly the same as hearing him say it, but I still needed that sentence finished. I’ll always need you.

He paled. "Yes. I should actually go now.... I never wanted to go, but I need to."

I didn’t want to let him go. I wanted him to stay with me so I could stay with him. He looked unwell, and I wanted him well. I wanted him to know how much I cared about him, but the words I heard in my own voice didn’t match the ones in my head, "I understand." I hugged him one more time, and there it was for a brief moment. That feeling of forever. I can’t explain why I said what I did next. I guess I felt compelled to share at least one secret with him. "By the way... my middle name starts with 'M' too, so... if you ever need to get your mind off something, you can try to figure it out."

He grinned. I love that grin. "Monkey?"

I laughed. Only once, but it was real. "In your dreams."

He took a tiny light blue gem out of his pocket. "I’ll see you soon?"

I turned relatively serious again. "You’d better. Promise?"

"Of course."

I think what I did next shocked me more than him, or us both an equal amount. I leaned forwards and kissed him on the cheek seconds before he glittered away. I don’t know where the impulse came from. I knew it could have been worse, though. And if it had been... I wouldn’t have been able to bear his leaving again. Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell him how I felt while he was here. I should have just told him.

I stood there in a daze after he left, grappling with... everything—conflicting thoughts, emotions, courses of action, you name it. I knew one thing for absolute certain though. I should have told him. I sank to the floor in the center of my room and buried my face in my hands. "I love you," I whispered. I groaned in frustration. "I love you. Why, why, why do I love you? Why do you have to come back and remind me that I love you only to leave again? Don’t you know I can’t do this anymore? Didn’t you understand what I meant? I’ll always need you! so stop leaving me!" I curled up into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. "I love you," I sobbed. And that’s the truth.

My eyes fell on the healing gem, which was also sitting on the floor. It must have fallen when I jumped up to help Phillip. Help him... I reached out and grabbed the gem. Maybe I can’t help him with whatever prompted him to go to Firidi in the first place, but I can catch him when he falls. I’ll be there for him when he needs comfort. I hope he believes that. I know I haven’t really shown it to be true in the past, but perhaps late will be worth more than never. I... need to tell him that truth first. But... not today. I’m busy today. At least, that’s what I told myself this morning, and I was a tiny bit busy this morning; however, I have a completely clear evening ahead of me. I can’t do it today though. I... I need to think.

I got up off the floor, determined not to feel sorry for myself. Any reason to feel sorry is a reason I deserve at this point, so I’ll just grimace and bear it for now. I packed away the rest of my things and got dressed. The rain had stopped, and the first rays of morning sunlight were shining through my window. I sighed. Today was supposed to be a somewhat fresh start, but Phillip had shown me something. I don’t need a completely new start, just a new chapter. A chapter in which I know what I want and must only make a plan to achieve it. I want to show Phillip that I care. I want to tell him the truth about all my lies. I want... to know what he wants. The signs are clearly there, but I’ve been wrong before.

I opened my bedroom window, turned invisible, and created a forcefield path to the castle wall. Everything was wet from the rain, but I hardly cared. I propped my elbows on the edge of the wall and rested my chin in my hands. The sunrise was beautiful. The pale yellow sunlight rippled across the ocean’s surface, twinkling like one thousand stars in the night sky. I wish Phillip could have stayed long enough to see it. If I closed my eyes, I could easily picture him standing beside me. He would be a step back from the parapet with that sweet smile on his face. And his eyes, those wonderful eyes... they would be gazing at me instead of the view. I surprised myself by imagining it this way, but... it felt right. Now that I think about it, he’s always kind of watched out for me. He’s always come when I needed him. The Vladimir mission, Ember’s dungeon, my nightmares—he was there every time. Have I waited too long to return the favor? I’m crossing my fingers that I’m not.

"If only..." he’d said. If only.... If only what? If only—

"Ready to go?" asked a voice out of the blue.

I jumped in surprise and nearly slipped on the slick cobbles beneath my feet. "You have got to stop doing that!" I yelled at Calypso, turning to look at her.

One glance at my face made her brow furrow in concern. "What happened to you?"

I just shrugged. I had no interest in knowing why she assumed something had happened.

Long story short, I’ve successfully moved into the Time Hall. The room is kind of boring, but I have a nice view out the window. I... really don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t want to be here. I want to be somewhere else. I don’t want to be alone. I miss him already. Maybe because I know he’s not planning on coming back very soon. He didn’t actually promise, so at least he won’t ever have to say he broke it. I wish he had promised though. I wish I’d just told him everything! I wish he’d have just told me everything, but wishes don’t often come true.