Unnamed

Thursday, January 26, 2023, continued

Back home, I set Phillip's notebooks on my desk. "Classified Information" and "Random Notes." I contemplated them for a few minutes, but I couldn't bring myself to open them. I picked them up and dropped them in the drawer of my bedside table. They were private... and trust is a two-way street. I trust him to take care of himself. He can trust me to take care of his things. I sat on my bed and held the fedora. When I picked it up, I almost didn't see the piece of paper that drifted to the floor; but, I did, and I reached down to retrieve it. The paper was crumpled, and burned around the edges. My name was at the top in familiar handwriting, but the page was too ruined to read. From whence, or when, the letter came was a mystery, but its one legible word sent my mind into tempest and turmoil.

Perry. What does that name mean to him? What does it mean to me? It used to belong to a person who was brave, adventurous, and hadn't a care in the world. But now.... I thought of the note in my pocket. Am I me? What am I if not a knight, perhaps no longer Phillip's best friend, and no longer respected enough to even be taken onto a ship's crew to go back to the ocean, where I used to belong? I squinted in vain at the smudges of words on the damaged letter. I think... maybe I... there could be someplace I want to belong, but... where is he?


Friday, January 27, 2023

She's back. She's trying to come back. I won't let her. I can't let her. If she manages to take control, there will be no locking her away again. I have to erase her permanently soon, but how?! Who is there to seek help from if I can't figure it out? Could another telepath help? I only know two others though, and they... they're both out of the question. Anyway, how did she come back? Let's review the evidence....

I snuck breakfast from the kitchens this morning, and took enough for lunch as well. I then teleported to the beach with my Aster band. My thoughts were still rooted in last night's questions. I'll just say it bluntly: they frighten me. I've never felt so lost in my life. Not even two years ago. So, what's different this time? Actually, I'll keep that answer to myself, if I even know it.... Gah! I'm getting distracted! I went to the beach for one reason: practice. Phillip was right. He's always been right. I need to learn to control my power. Then I can at least keep it from bursting out at inopportune moments.

I spent all morning moving rocks around. After lunch, I made a mistake. I decided to finally test teleportation on myself. I took the healing gem out of my pocket and clenched it firmly in my fist. I told myself I'd be fine. Apparently I've sunken to an incredible, new low, since I was blatantly lying to myself. I stared across the beach, imagining myself, in as much detail as possible, standing a few feet from where I currently was. The fire sprang up almost instantly, and I heard a faint whispering in my head. I chalked the strange noise up to the rush of the flames, but now I know what it really was. A command.

The fire flashed green and teleported me away. I opened my eyes to see myself not standing on soft sand, but plummeting towards the middle of the ocean. I gasped in shock as I plunged into the icy water. I broke through the ocean's surface sputtering and fighting to catch my breath. How was this possible? My thoughts had been nowhere near the ocean! Well, figuratively. There was no shore in sight, and I wasn't sure how to teleport with fire while floating in water. This was bad.

Having problems, Peregrine? a shaky but triumphant voice spat in my head.

What--how?!

The only response was weak, malicious laughter. With a sudden jolt, green fire cut into the ocean and whisked me away to the tip of Tori's tallest mountain. I shivered in the cruel wind that sliced through my wet clothes.

You left a gap open straight to your biggest weakness, she exulted. I should be thanking you, really.

"I d-don't understand," I stuttered aloud.

Flames swallowed me again, following by a blaring headache. I appeared midair high above the spires of Andresia's castle. I fell through the sky, but fire caught me again and again, putting me higher each time.

I have authority over your fire! she practically cackled. It's only the first step to eradicating you completely! I shall live again, even if I must be guised with your awful face.

I didn't have a response for that. The horrible truth of Imelda's plans had just hit me full force. She had been observing me, all too well. All this time, she'd been searching only for a way to break my mind's hold over my body. She was trying to swap our roles! I tightened my hold on the heart gem, pressing so hard that its points stabbed into my skin. I won't let this happen. I can't let this happen!

"No!" I screamed in rage.

Something welled up within me, a feeling like I'd never felt before, a sort of blend between determination and desperation. Imelda was a much bigger problem than I'd originally expected. Well, I won't go down without a fight! The moment I screamed at her, the sky exploded with fireworks. Everything felt numb, and my vision went black.

I woke gasping for breath, and lurched upright, shaking. I was back on the beach, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Whoa!" Someone put their hands on my shoulders. "Calm down," he scolded gently.

I looked over at his face, one that's always fuzzy now that I think about it.... "Jimmy?!"

He frowned. "Right. What happened to you?"

I pushed his hands away. "Never mind that; why are you here?"

"I... uh... saw flashing lights down this way, that's all."

"Oh... um..." I struggled for an excuse, "it was probably just this glinting in the sun." I held up the healing gem, but put it in my pocket before he could get too good a look at it.

His face was skeptical and very concerned. "Well, okay, but...."

I jumped up and cut him off, "Nothing to worry about, Jimmy. See ya later."

I ran off before he could respond. I schlepped back to the castle on foot, turning invisible to sneak through the knight's quarters to my room. Everyone I passed on the way back was chattering about the weird flashes in the sky. I cringed. I'm not really sure what I even did... but Imelda has been silent since that moment. I'm certain she won't be for long though. I have a dread feeling that something either terrible or for the better will happen with her soon. I have to get rid of her, forever, or I'll have more trouble to deal with than I've had this whole week. No one can be me but me; I know that even if I don't know what I am. I won't let Imelda steal my life from me.


Saturday, January 28, 2023

I can't decide if today was a good day or not. This morning was okay enough. The chichi has been gone since Calypso came. I don't really care that she stole him; I'd probably end up forgetting about him again anyway. Cool Bananas has also been gone, ever since I kicked that stupid hat under my bed, but his disappearances are normal. My point being no one bothered me this morning, so I got plenty of welcome, dreamless sleep. That's been hard to come be ever since--jeez, can I not go two minutes without thinking about him?! Let's just move on. I went to the Hoffmans' inn at lunchtime, the busiest time of day. Perfect if you want to blend in with locals and foreigners alike. I ordered a fruit salad, just to pretend I was actually there for lunch, and settled at a small, miraculously empty, table towards the center of the room.

I had my satchel with me and, for no good reason, the healing gem in my pants pocket. Apparently, the sweater I'd found wadded up in the back of a dresser drawer doesn't have pockets. I was idly poking at my fruit, feeling nervous yet excited. Today was the day past wrongs would be righted. I wish it weren't sullied by what happened last week--BUT WHO CARES ABOUT THAT? NOT ME! So anyway, there I was, prepared to wait who knows how long for a certain someone to arrive, when two very much unwelcome guests appeared at the other end of the table. One was wearing a white hoodie and had her dark blue hair up in a bun. Her light green eyes were trained on some weird bronze cusp on her wrist, which was vaguely familiar.... Oh, I almost forgot to mention that she's quite possibly one of the top ten most awful people in the world. Also, her face is ugly... wait, does that mean I'm calling him ugly too? Well, he's not, she is. BUT THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW, PERRY! OR EVER!

The other person was a boy with light orange hair who was greedily sipping up some soup. I looked up hopefully when I noticed them there (how had I not seen them sit down?), but was greatly disappointed. Nell is not favorite of mine, and anyone she associates herself with is immediately sorted into that same category. Excepting--honestly, the harder I try to push him out of my mind, the more he gets stuck in there. What's wrong with me?

"Oh. You’re not—" the name almost slipped out, but I caught myself, "—who I thought you were. And where did you get that soup?"

"This is a restaurant, B. What do you expect?" Nell didn't even have the decency to look up at me. "I know you don't usually get such good quality stuff here, but let's just say I know the owner."

Everybody knows the owners. Their inn is the most populated place in town, idiot.

"I don’t come here for the food, Rock. Why are you here?"

"He was hungry." She gestured in the direction of her companion, who was on his second bowl of soup.

I mercilessly stabbed a large slice of a strawberry-like purple fruit. "What brings you to Arden?" I popped the fruit in my mouth, not once taking my eyes off Nell.

"Business, bird. He tagged along because he wanted to go sightseeing." She finally looked up at me. Her face had a green tinge, and she seemed tired.

I frowned. Stones don't get sick easily. "You look sick, Penelope," I said bluntly.

"I know. Stones don't get sick easily."

Well duh.

Nell turned to the guy next to her. "Are you ready to go yet?"

He briefly glanced at her. "Meh." And he returned to slurping down his seemingly endless bowl of soup.

I scanned the faces in the crowded restaurant. Not finding who I was searching for, I looked back at Nell. "How recent is it? Your… disease."

I don't know why I asked. I didn't care or anything; it's her after all. And it had nothing to do with her brother! I'm pretty sure he doesn't like her very much anyway. How could her problem even circle around to him? Well, they're Stones. Almost everything they do somehow involves the rest of the family.

"I've had it as long as I've had it." Nell fiddled with a knife against the side of the table. Destruction of property. Okay then. "What's it to you?"

I shrugged. "It’s absolutely nothing to me, I don’t care how you feel. I guess I can’t help you either if you’re gonna be that way." Why was I considering helping at all?

"Magic overuse, can't be healed. You have to wait it out, Pear."

I visibly flinched at the nickname. She didn't notice, or at least didn't care enough to comment on it. She called me that on purpose. I know it for a fact. There's only one person in the entire world who's allowed to call me that, and it's definitely not her. Liam, Calypso, Nell, I will get my revenge one day.

Her partner suddenly slammed his spoon down with a clatter and yelled, "ANOTHER!" thoroughly ruining my chance to scream at Nell's stupid face. A good thing, in the long run. I can only imagine what she would say if I let on that it bothered me.

"Oh well," I said after composing myself, "my idea’s not worth trying then, Pellmell."

"Pellmell?"

Yeah, not my best.

"Come on Igneous, you’re not hungry anymore." She stood up.

He looked extremely disappointed; poor guy hadn't even gotten his "ANOTHER!"

"But—"

"Nope. Take one for the road. Nice seeing you, Peregrine."

Igneous sadly pushed his bowl away and scooted out of his chair. At the same moment, a patron seated at the table behind me seemed to be having trouble with a wobbly chair leg.

Thump, THUMP, THUMP, thump.

Annoying.

THUMP, THUMP.

The sound was drilling into my skull, despite not being any louder than anything else in the room.

THUMP, thump, thump, thump.

All at once, my brain understood. This rhythm that had once been so commonplace to me was still recognizable, even when not listening for it. Later I would realize how wonderfully smart ###### had been to communicate this way, for multiple reasons. In the moment, I kept my face blank, tapping my fork against my bowl as I responded to Nell.

TAP, tap, TAP, tap.

"Can't say the same to you, Nell."

TAP, TAP, tap.

"You know I didn't really mean it." Then she and her mysterious partner left. Good ridance!

Tap, TAP, TAP, TAP.

I almost smiled to myself. I gripped the healing gem in my pocket with my left hand. I'd barely registered slipping it in there a few minutes before, but what did it matter? Old hurts would soon be healed.

The customer behind me had now been served his food, and abused his dishes instead of his chair, .--. .-.. .- -. ..--..

Why does he always ask me for those? He knows I specialize in making rash decisions. That'll never change. I quickly assessed our situation. Based on recent--and some not so recent--events, current allegiances, and my tendency to constantly bump into people who know too much, I decided that talking somewhere more private would be best. We would have ended up doing that anyway.

.-- .- .. - / - . -. / ..-. --- .-.. .-.. --- .--, I tapped.

-.-- . .--., he tapped back.

Without further ado, I got up and left the building. I milled around the shop stands outside until he came out after me. I waited for him to see me, then weaved through the crowds and streets to an isolated little alleyway that Calypso had once shown me. It was different now than it had been then, but there's a reason for that. No time to explain today though! As soon as we were alone, Florian ran up and hugged me. I laughed and took his hand, teleporting us to my favorite, secluded patch of beach via my Aster band.

"Well, you're chock full of surprises now, aren't you?" he said.

"I've picked up some tricks here and there." I sat down on the sand.

He sat next to me. "Tell me about it."

"About what?" I knew what he wanted to hear. He knew I knew.

"Come on, there's got to be lots of stories worth repeating. It's been two whole years!"

"Right." I gazed across the ocean. My eyes were misty, but I couldn't avoid reminiscing. I wanted to tell him about my time in Andresia. "Same for you, certainly."

He bumped his shoulder against mine. "Fine, you win. I'll go first."

I smiled. I always win. Florian proceeded to tell me what had happened to him--the brief version, of course. Apparently he had a sister... who's dead now. Yeah, well, anyway. I took a deep breath and told him my stories. I left out some details, some smaller adventures, and some... bigger ones, but he's always been perceptive enough to guess at what I omitted.

"What have you been up to since the ball?" he asked after we'd had our questions and answers about each others tales.

"I..." I looked away. "nothing much."

"Peregrine herself up to nothing much?"

"Well... it's complicated." I was tearing up. I didn't care if he saw me cry, but I still didn't know how to tell anyone what was going on.

"More so than everything else you just told me? I don't see how you could manage to top all of that."

"######... I think you know more than I told you, huh."

"Yes," he said softly. He didn't need to be a telepath to understand my meaning. "I'm glad you've ##### ####### ####."

"I'm sorry," I said, blushing.

"Oh, don't be. You were just a kid then; it was a fancy that couldn't last long. Of course, not everyone ########## ### ### ##### ##### ###### ###### #### ####."

"I was kind of hoping you'd forgotten about that," I muttered into my hands, where I was badly hiding my embarrassment.

"I shouldn't have brought it up. I believe we got off track. Was there something else you wanted to say?"

"I have nothing to say," I lied. He knew it was a lie, but he also knew why it was.

"I know you better than that," he said, predictably.

We both smiled. That was all it took to erase the awkwardness of my silly past mistakes. It was like Florian and I had never been separated. We knew each other as well as old times, and trusted each other as much too. I took a shaky breath and launched into my account of the past week. I told him everything, being more honest with him than I'd recently been with myself. I couldn't even get through the first day without crying. He put an arm around my shoulders, and I sobbed through my words like a child.

"I saw him," Florian said gently when I was done, "at the ball. I saw you both, before I recognized you. I watched you dance, and you looked happy."

It painted a nice picture in my head. I closed my eyes and leaned against Florian, imagining what he might have seen. An odd pair, perhaps, simultaneously laughing at each other and with each other, neither of us the better at avoiding tripping over my trailing dress. I remembered the music--an eerie tune to some, but I'd liked it. It hadn't mattered much anyway; I was focused on other things at the time.

Florian dropped his arm. "Maybe... maybe it would have been better had I not seen you at all."

I straightened up, snapped from my daydream. "What?"

"Maybe it would have been better if we hadn’t found each other again."

"Why would you think that?"

He looked at me with new pain in his eyes. "If one of us were to be lost now, it would absolutely break the other. It would break me." He stood up and stared at the horizon line. "You’re all I have left, Perry."

I stayed seated. I wanted to respond in kind, but I knew that wasn’t true for me. He knew it too. Even if Phillip isn’t here, I have ways to reach him if I need him. Besides that, I know a few other people who can stoop to be comforting if necessary. Florian... well, one probably doesn’t make many friends living in Firidi.

"I saw your friend recently," Florian abruptly mentioned.

"Really?" I whispered.

"Yes."

"Where?"

He shook his head. "That’s not for me to tell."

I put two and two together quickly enough. "Oh no...." I breathed.

"I’ll keep an eye out for him, for you. Make sure he survives the masses."

I stood up. "I... thank you, I guess."

He turned to me. "You just make sure you survive yourself."

I nodded.

He took my head in his hands and kissed me on the forehead. "You’ll be okay."

"Maybe." Some stray tears fled down my cheeks.

"Goodbye, Peregrine."

"Goodbye, ########."

We smiled sadly at each other, and he walked away. I watched him go down the beach, wondering how he’d gotten here and how he was planning to go back. My stomach churned as my thoughts shifted to what he’d said. How could things possibly be better if we hadn’t met again? The way he’d said "goodbye" didn’t bode well. I was tired of goodbyes—goodbyes that don’t say what needs to be said, goodbyes that don’t say whether we’ll meet again or not, goodbyes that only leave me wanting more time to talk. I should—

Huh. Phillip’s poison gem is glowing really strangely right now. I’ve never seen it do that before. It almost makes one want to reach out and touch it, but of course I know how completely dumb that would be. I wonder what it’s like to be a Stone. Fancy gems, fancy socks, immune to poison for Peter’s sake! That must be cool. Plus, that’s one big family to be surrounded by. Although... I can’t really think of one family member Phillip actually likes, or even one that doesn’t get on his nerves every time they talk. Maybe Stones are more trouble than they’re worth—excepting one, of course. There will always be the one.


Sunday, January 29, 2023

I walked through the hall, every step muffled as if my hairpin were gone, but it was there, sticking into my arm with any slight movement. A wooden staircase stretched upwards at the end of the hall. I went up it, slowly, slowly. I didn't want to open the door at the top, but my hand shot forward of its own accord and turned the knob. My feet stepped over the threshold, despite my efforts to stop them. I emerged on the deck of a ship. Not just any ship. My ship. The ocean and sky around me were one continuous storm cloud. A jagged rift tore across the clouds above me, and magenta fire began falling out of it. I knew I should run, but I was frozen. The rift curved over the horizon line before me. The dancing firelight inside silhouetted a perfectly straight tower in the distance. As soon as I saw it, the first flame hit the ship. The whole boat tipped to the side and flipped upside down, pushing through the cloud-ocean. The world on the other side was made of shattered glass. Mirrors. I leaned over the ship's rail, straining to see my reflection. Something was wrong. My--my eyes were... purple? I leaned too far. I fell. My screams were lost in their own echoes.

And that's how I woke up today. Screaming. It's been a while since I've had a nightmare that makes me cry out--besides the nightmare that's been my life lately. I snuck down to the kitchens, invisibly, for a glass of water. All that trip taught me was rumors don't fade as fast as the subject of them would wish. And I won't deny the fact that I checked my eye color in a shiny pan on the way by. Normal, deep brown. Nothing to worry about, then. Of course, I was wrong, very wrong. The story of my day that I'm about to write is absurd, which can only mean that everything that happened is true.

I'll skip to the important stuff, because no one wants to know how I wasted my morning. Around 10 AM, someone knocked urgently on my bedroom door. I tried to ignore it, but the noise was unrelenting. I finally got up to see who was determined enough to try to beat my stubbornness.

I threw open my door. "Jimmy? What--"

"Hush!" He shoved me back into my room and shut the door as he came in himself.

"What are you doing?!"

"Look, I don't have much time, so I need you to ask questions later. I'm Keefe."

I opened my mouth to respond in some form of disbelief, but to my amazement he was Keefe. I've met the guy a few times, and never once properly, but it was his face plain as could be.

"What?" I asked in unbelief.

He watched me carefully as I came to the realization. "Good. We'll talk about that later, for now you have bigger problems."

I bristled at that statement. "That may be true, but what in the world, dude?! You can't barge in here claiming Jimmy isn't real!"

He ran a hand through his mop of blonde hair. "I really don't have time to go into detail, but no, Jimmy was never real."

I wasn't exactly sure how to take that information. I'm still not sure. I can't describe the level of confusion I'm feeling. So, Keefe's been Jimmy this whole time? That... I... what? It makes sense, I guess. He'd better follow up on this soon.

"Yeah, anyway," he said in my stunned silence, "there's something else you should know."

He went on to tell me something that I can't write down, because it's a secret. I respect that. My reaction was basically, "Why do I care?"

"On the beach a few days ago, you were talking in your sleep, but... it wasn't you. So, I ###### #### #### ####."

"Excuse me?!" HE WHAT?!

"I know. I'm sorry. But I know who she is! And I know things will only get worse if she stays there any longer."

Meanwhile, I was shocked into silence again.

"Now, I can't help you get rid of her, because I don't know how. Yeah. But, I can offer you a temporary fix if you'll let me help."

After some reckless debate, I chose not to be mad at his invasion of my privacy. What does it matter anyway? I needed a solution, and I wasn't going to pass up the offer of one.

"How?" I asked, sitting on the bed in defeat.

He dragged my desk chair over to the bed, doing me the courtesy of keeping things proper. What a gentleman.

"Let me inside your head."

I take it back. But, what choice did I have? At least I'd be able to control what he saw--to an extent--since I can go in my own mind.

I sighed. "Fine, whatever." I held out my hand for contact, but suddenly pulled it away when he reached for it. "Wait, what exactly are you planning to do?"

He frowned. "It's not easy to explain."

"Alright, just show me then." I slapped my hand onto his.

"How--"

I pulled him into my mind before he could finish that question. It was easier to show him. We traveled at top speed through the usual memory tunnel. I tried to block out what I could, but... some weren't so easy to dispel. I guess Keefe wasn't the worst person who could have seen those. As Jimmy, what has he seen already...? We finally emerged in the core--the triumvirate of my powers, with fire at its center. I gasped, as much as one can gasp in their brain. Rising out of the flames like a ship's mast at dawn was Imelda's tower.

"What the heck was that?!" Keefe's voice rang out.

"What?" my brain involuntarily asked.

"How did you... how are you...?"

A stray thought fluttered by, "Right, that's not normal."

"I dunno." I did whatever a shrug would be in the brain. "I just did it once and now it's easy."

"That shouldn't be possible...."

"Oh well, looks like it is. Now, what do we do?"

He gave up on trying to figure my weird abilities out. "That's psionpath, right?"

I looked to the floating blue-grey orb that he would have been pointing at had we bodies. I started to nod, then realized that wouldn't do a thing.

"Yeah, it is."

"Okay..." I could tell he was deep in thought--in my head, isn’t that a weird thought. He made a slight groaning sound, "this might be more difficult than I thought. She has your pyrokinesis under her control, doesn’t she?"

"I think so," supplied my mind before I could choose whether to answer or not.

"Can you get the bubble through the flames? You might be able to block her from using them against you at the same time you’re blocking her from leaving her tower."

"I already locked her in her tower though."

"Then the fire is how she escaped? That actually makes things easier, even though things are worse than I thought."

"What does that mean?"

"Her tower is the center of your mind now, see? That’s really dangerous--"

"You sound very nonchalant about that bombshell!" my thoughts shouted.

"Well, sorry--" He didn’t sound very sorry. "--but I’m just being honest. She has mind control. You’re smart enough to guess what that implies."

The dream... purple eyes. I couldn’t remember what it meant until he said that. Mind control, at the core of my brain. Yeah, that’s definitely dangerous, Keefe! Thanks for telling me SO CALMLY! My head hurts now just thinking about what she could do. In fact, it probably hurts because of her! I need to take a nap or something, but that will only bring more nightmares, won’t it? I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Keefe helped me put the bubble between her ivory tower and the flames. It was one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life. I’ve never been able to breech those flames, yet I always see something flickering in them. This time I saw a face. I couldn’t place it, but I knew they were evil. I know they’d hurt me, but who was it?

When we got out of my mind after that ordeal, there was another face in my room.

"What kind of creepy ritual did I just walk into?" Calypso squeaked. She wasn’t in her pixie form, but it was definitely still a squeak.

Keefe and I let go of each other’s hands immediately. It probably had looked strange, sitting there facing each other, eyes closed, perfectly still.

Keefe stood up and put my chair back where it belonged. "I was just helping her with something."

"Wait... in her head? Hey! That was my job!"

I leapt up. "It wasn’t that, fairy! It was something else. What are you even doing here?"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I’m gonna let that one slide, only because I’m so very nice. I was just checking in; nothing much."

Keefe cleared his throat. "Sorry, ladies, I have to go." He edged towards the door.

I waved him away. "Yeah, whatever. Thanks. Bye."

He left. I turned back to Calypso and arched an eyebrow at her.

"There’s something in your eye, kid," she said.

I paled a little. "Purple?"

"What? No. Why would there be purple in your eye?"

"No reason," I replied a little too quickly.

She shrugged, and detached a small blue pouch from her belt. She held it out to me. I cautiously held out my palm, and she dropped the pouch onto it. The pouch felt like it was full of sand... or....

"Dust?" I asked. "Why?"

"Blue dust," she corrected me, "for emergencies. You know how powerful it is."

"I know, that’s why I don’t understand why you’re giving it to me."

"I told you, for emergencies. Don’t abuse your power, okay? Or you know what, do. I don’t care." She put a foot up on my window sill. The window was already open, so I guess that’s how she got in. "Yeah, don’t thank me or anything."

"Thanks," I grumbled, still confused.

She nodded, and leapt out of the window, falling straight down out of sight. I resisted the urge to run over and look down. She’s not stupid enough to fall to her death without a plan. If she is, then I don’t care to help her. The two random encounters of my day were just that: random. Why help me now, Keefe, instead of on the beach? Why give me this at all, Calypso, especially out of the blue like that? Of course I’m going to abuse it. I need to test its limits, for whatever reason. I’ll write my findings later, for now I’m going to go see about that nap. No, wait. I’m going to go get a mirror. She never told me what was in my eye....


Monday, January 30, 2023

I used to enjoy nighttime, declaring it was my "favorite time of day." Alois would laugh and shake his head. "Mais c'est la nuit," he'd mutter, "pas le jour." As if I couldn't understand him. It would stump me every time. I was just a kid, how was I supposed to know how else to word it? "Tais-toi!" I'd retort, sticking out my tongue. And why did I like the night? Easy. Stars. They were always there for me. Sometimes in different places, but still there.

If I ever woke in the middle of the night, I'd simply sneak above deck to watch the sky. Who knows how many times someone found me curled up in the crow's nest in the morning before MK threatened to chain me to my bed to keep me safely down low. I'd still do it from time to time though. The view was spectacular--a sky unobstructed by a single building, tree, mountain, you name it. There were only the moon and her twinkling friends for miles.

Things are different here. I can see only half the sky from my window, maybe not even that much. Sure, I could hop outside onto the castle wall, but does that move the huge castle blocking my view? No, it does not, which means on nights like these I have no comfort to carry me to sleep. So, here I am, writing by handlelight (which is what I call heating my hand to the point that it glows, but not burns). I've been lying awake for hours. Nothing's keeping me up really; it's just one of those nights. So, up till now, I've purposely given myself things to think over. Bad decision.

The first domino I pushed over was September 24, 2020, because I was lying in bed wondering how I got here. Truth is, the shipwreck was basically my fault. It was my birthday party, after all--my existence that killed everyone I loved. They all knew it would happen someday, "You'll hurt somebody with your recklessness one day, girl, then you'll learn to be sorry." I did learn something. I learned that fire can burn even in pouring rain, be that fire and rain real or passion versus circumstance.

When I woke on the beach, the lone survivor (or so I thought), I didn't cry. I didn't deserve the solace of tears. In a shroud of guilt, I numbed myself to my emotions and made a vow: "No more family, no more friends. If I don't make any more, I can't hurt any more." I could only hurt myself, and I was content with that. I built walls around my heart. Walls that kept things from getting in... and from getting out. I became a double dose of my bad qualities--stubbornness, foul words, rude actions--all to push people away on purpose. It worked too well on Emmiline, I guess, since she hates me now. But, that was the goal. A goal I slipped up on with one person. And why? What was different about him?

I tried every conceivable way to keep us distanced as acquaintances, but every attempt fell flat. Maybe it was actually for lack of trying. I let myself laugh on occasion, and that was the weak point. Each laugh, rare as they were in the beginning, cracked my heart's door open for a second. Now I've learned another thing: seconds add up. It's too late. He's in there now, every part of him. And I've learned a third thing: hurt goes two ways when someone's completely in there, and I--hopefully--didn't cause any of that hurt this time. I've never quite felt like this, like a piece is missing. I suppose... it must be a vital piece to make me feel so lost so suddenly. I never wanted to be friends with him. I'd wanted to go back to the ocean once I'd earned my release from jail, but then Emmiline had to go and knight me. I felt an obligation to accept the position, for a time at least. It's hard to explain why. I guess I didn't want to hurt anyone ever again. Our friendship after that was mere puppetry on my part for that same reason. A direct contradiction to my vow, but I still did it....

When she died, it made things ten times worse for me. I'd done it again. I was the reason for someone's death. Again. The nightmares of her death? Not just a replay of events, no. In the nightmares, there were ghosts in the flames. They carried Emmiline's body into the fire with them, protectively. They glared at me the whole time and hissed "Another one, like us. Killed for you. Your fault, your fault, your fault...." Then I'd wake screaming. Phillip would try to comfort me, but he didn't understand the real reason I was crying. I wonder if he ever will. For his sake, I hope not. Guilt over even one person's death is a crushing enough weight to live with, much less a whole shipload's.

I can't make myself cry even right now. I've lost that privilege, anyway. I don't get to feel sorry for myself. Maybe it's better this way, with his being gone. I've played too fast and loose with this friendship. He's had too many close calls because of me already, and I can only thank the healing gem for his survival--so Emmiline, ironically. This is it. I'm letting go... as soon as I know for sure he's safe. I have to know that much, even if I plan to forget him like I've tried with all the others. Emmline is already out the window, and [Florian] can handle himself (he has this long), so Phillip's the last one to make assurances about. And Monty? We've never really been quite friends, so... I'm not too worried about him being hurt by me. But Phillip... how to make certain he's safe?

That note! Liam! Ew... Liam. It may be a stretch to think that note and recent events are connected, but... what other lead do I have? If there's the slightest chance Liam knows something, I'll take it. I just need to wrap up loose ends before I let go, to know what those recent events are even about, then I'll be satisfied to give up. Probably. Maybe he's left because of me already. That would honestly make me feel better, knowing I'm justified in my point that I'm a magnet for trouble. Is it somehow selfish to think that I'm the root of Phillip's problems? Maybe a little, but what else would one expect from me? I'm hopelessly selfish.

It's too early--or late? It's that weird time when one's not sure to call it late in the night or early in the morning.... Anyway, now's not a good time to bother Liam, to even find him for that matter, but I'll try Aster H.Q. in a few hours at a more reasonable time. For now I'll... try to sleep? That could go horribly wrong again, but I'll try. Try, try, try. Try everything to fail at most things. Welcome to my life, ladies and gentlemen.

~~~~~

I've done it again. What's wrong with me? I've lied to myself for the trillionth time! Apparently, I'm really good at sniffing out lies, but... finding the truth? No, no so much. At least, not all of it. Here's what I do know: I'm not ready to let go, of course not. I'm a fool for thinking I was. I thought writing it down would convince me, but no such luck there. Whatever he may be now, Phillip was my best friend. It doesn't matter how much I tried to prevent it; we grew close anyway. That's the problem right there. When you get close to someone... it... they--here's the truth.

To have all my loved ones taken away in one fell swoop two years ago... it broke my heart. And when one's heart gets broken, one puts walls around it--as I said before--so that it will never happen again. Problem is, that only makes it hurt more when you lose someone who managed to get inside those walls, especially when you realize you never deserved them in the first place. I was a terrible friend in return to his kindness. Why didn't I just accept our friendship in the first place, if he was so determined to have it? I was just so afraid of losing people again. I was so preoccupied with my twisted perceptions of how to not lose anyone that I did end up losing them. Why couldn't I have just let myself enjoy the good times while I had them?


~~~~~

Ember's Potential Goals

1. World domination? That's actually all I've got. I mean, she's never really put much effort into taking over another kingdom, has she? She just... hurts people. Badly. A lot. There's got to be some reason.

Ember's Potential Motives...
for whatever she's trying to do.

I honestly have nothing for this one. I hate saying this more than can be put into words, but Liam was right. There's not much known about her. She probably keeps it that way on purpose. I hate saying this the same amount as the other thing, but I can sympathize with her on that point.


Ember's Potential Weaknesses

Ugh. Mystery solving, information gathering, list making--this stuff is Phillip's thing, not mine.

1. That memory... could be a clue, at least. Fragements of a memory, I should say. I saw bits and pieces of it earlier this month when she tried to... to take over my mind. Anyway, it could be a clue to a weakness.
2. Nope, I don't know. I need to do more research, and trust me, I will. What got this idea in my head? Or rather who? That idiot Liam, who was no help with my problems at all.

I talked to him literally ten minutes ago in Aster's break room. I'd hoped for a private conversation, which didn't end up quite so private since his mother was there. I'm getting ahead of myself though. I started by poking around a couple of H.Q.'s random rooms, but didn't find him. So, I asked around the lobby. Everyone was glancing at me out of the corners of their eyes and whispering; I don't even want to know what those whispers were about. Eventually, Keefe tapped me on the shoulder and told me where Liam would be if I wanted to go wait for him. I have no idea how Keefe knew that, and frankly, I don't care.

I chose a table near the doorway and threw my satchel haphazardly into one of the chairs before sitting down myself. I withdrew the crumpled piece of incriminating paper from my pocket, rubbing the heart gem along the way for good luck. Then I silently banged my head on the table for a good 20 minutes before Liam and his mom walked through the door. He didn’t notice me at first because they were deep in conversation.

"Liam!" I blurted before he walked by entirely. I looked apologetically at Scarlet for interrupting them. Sorry, lady, it was important.

Liam stared blankly at me, and Scarlet looked annoyed for some reason.

"I can wait," I mumbled. I really couldn’t though.

Scarlet continued walking. After a moment, Liam followed her, shrugging at me. I tried not to stare them down while I waited and started tapping my foot. Perhaps seen as an act of impatience, but it was more nervousness than that; besides, I barely even noticed I was doing it at all. Scarlet sat down at one of the nearby tables and took out her lunch. Liam said something to her, then started back over to me. As soon as he turned around, I looked away from them, caught in the act. I tucked my feet under my chair to stop the tapping, which I'd finally realized I was doing.

Liam sat down across from me. "What do you need this time?"

I threw the paper at him. It drifted to the floor between our chairs. I made no move to pick it up to actually hand it to him. "I need an explanation," I said quietly, glancing at Scarlet. This was a... ah... tend--tough subject for someone to overhear.

Liam picked up the paper and accidentally banged his head on the table. I would have laughed if not for the reason I was there in the first place. He rubbed his head and looked at the note. "What is this supposed to mean?"

"I don’t know!" I cried, exasperated. I hadn't meant to sound so despondent, but it had just occurred to me how little I actually knew about what that note was for. I tried to lower my voice again. "That… that’s Phillip’s. I was hoping you knew."

Liam slid the note back to me. "I can't help you."

I stared at it. "Yes you can. You just won’t, will you?" What else could be expected from King Booger himself? Ha, I like that new nickname.

He crossed his arms in front of him. "And what if I am?"

I knit my brows together in confusion. "I don’t understand the question,"--you know, I still don't understand the question. Come think of it, he was acting very weird that whole time--"but that’s besides the point. You know something."

"That's the point. Anyway, why should I help you? All that I've done is that. What have I gotten in turn? Nothing. Yeah, I'll see you sometime." (I promise you, people, those were his exact grammatical oddities. Even I, who am no writer myself, could recognize them for what they were: mistakes.) He stood up.

I don't know what happened to me in that moment. Some switch flipped in my brain--or maybe somewhere else...--and I actually resorting to begging. Begging LIAM!

"Please," I implored, "tell me something. Find some tiny patch of kindness inside yourself. You just... you don’t understand, do you? How many people have disappeared on me, but this time there’s the tiniest chance that someone could help find them. What can I do, Bones? What do you want from me in return?"

I disgust myself sometimes.

"Fine." A very surprising response. He sat back down. "He was just helped me with something. All he did was go into my mind for a few seconds and that was it. Of course he was acting weird afterwards, it's my mind. I have no idea what he saw and how it affected him." He stared right into my eyes.

I stared right back, searching his eyes. I don't think I've ever made complete eye contact with him. It was... unnerving. It felt like we--no, nope, nada, I refuse to think that, much less write it down! Anyway, I saw it. He's such a bad liar sometimes; he knew exactly what Phillip saw in there.

I looked away and picked up the piece of paper, shoving it back into my pocket. "Thanks..." For nothing. "What do I owe you?"

"Leave me alone for half a week." He stood up again.

"Yeah, our appointment isn’t until next week, so... deal." And what a deal that is! No booger boy for a whole week! Well, half a week, but hopefully a full week anyway. I wrenched my bag off the other chair and pulled my red rubber band out of my other pocket. "I’m sorry to bother you." Yeah, I was. Sorry that I had to put myself in the indignity of bothering him.

"Whatever, just try to figure something out." He started to walk away.

"Goodbye...." I turned around; I’d almost forgotten Scarlet was there. Embarrassing? Maybe a little. "Goodbye, Miss Scarlet," I said quickly. Man, how I wanted out of there, before--before.

"Goodbye, child." Scarlet took out a binder and started shuffling around the papers.

"Oh, and Peregrine?" Liam asked as he placed his hand on the doorknob. "You really don't know where he is?"

"I… I have my suspicions." Suspicions that are without a doubt correct. I toned my voice down to a whisper, admitting something too openly to be truly me, "I don’t want to make him come back. I just want to make sure he’s safe." I fidgeted with my rubber band, almost debating if I was really ready to leave or not. But... I was, wasn't I?

He turned to face me again. "And you were wrong, I do know what it's like. For someone to leave. I've had worse then that too, but why would I even want to talk about it?" He rubbed his eyes, and gave me a determined look. I hated that look, because I knew deep down it was too similar to mine. "A person's past defines who they are. Why don't you research your enemies then? Ember, for instance. Of course I can't find a single file about her. That's how you can help me. Find her reasons. Phillip found mine, now you find hers."

"Good idea," I said honestly. "And, y’know, despite appearances, I’m a good listener. But of course I won’t see you for a week, so you think about what you actually want for a while." I teleported away after quietly adding, "I will too."

And have I done that? I don’t know. If I have, I haven’t done it well. That’s why I brought this journal to the beach, my thinking place. There’s something about fresh sea air that clears your head—not that it’s helping me right now. I used him. I used Phillip to distract myself from my pain. I know that now. These past years I’ve barely thought about my past at all. I didn’t want to, so I used him. This is all my fault—not (maybe not) his leaving, but the void of loss I feel from it. So what do I want? I want that void filled again. Call me silly. Call me whatever you want, really. I don’t care. I know what I want. I want my friend back.

Mon ami bien aimé.

~~~~~

I just returned to my room to work on studying the blue dust, but now I have something else to work on: another mystery. I was reaching under my bed for the pouch of dust (I have no comment as to why it was under there) when my hand scattered a stack of papers; however, I’ve never shoved/kicked/hurled any paper under there, so imagine my surprise to find a detailed map of Firidi (a very detailed map of Firidi), several scraps of some strange poetry, and a picture. One simple picture that is somehow more interesting than the map.

The map: It’s kind of warm, which is weird. Maybe that’s just my power shining through; although... the other things don’t feel that way. The map is much too detailed to describe. Where did it come from? Well, actually, I think I’m smart enough to figure that out. All this stuff has the mark of Phillip, however he may have managed to get it here... whether on purpose or by accident.

The poetry: Definitely something of Phillip’s. He does have that book of prophesies at his house—his old house? I don’t know what to call it. That doesn’t matter right now. These lines, the more that I read them, bear too close a similarity to people I know and events I’ve been through. Something fishy is going on, and now I want answers more than ever.

The picture: It’s... it’s Phillip and his family—years and years ago, of course. They all look... so happy. Yes, even Ember. Nell, too, and I can’t say I’ve ever seen her smile unless she’s insulting somebody. Their dad looks a lot like Phillip; I bet he was nice. Charlie (I think that’s her name) is here too. I forget she’s their sister sometimes. Did Phillip tell me that or someone else? Whatever, unimportant. Kid-Phillip has the same goofy grin on that I’ve seen him wear a thousand times. I miss that grin, one reason being because it was always around during happy times. Those are too rare now. Now. Now doesn’t seem real; it’s like a fever dream. The world crashed in on my head in a way that’s much bigger than anything I’ve faced in the past, because it was so unexpected. Maybe I was trying so hard to be something resembling cheerfulness again that I didn’t see any signs leading up to now. There were probably hundreds. Did Phillip mean to give me this stuff or not? If the answer is yes, then what did he hope to accomplish or say by sending it? The map, the poetry, this picture—all could mean one thing if it were purposeful. Or maybe I’m just a crazy person grasping at straws. Most people would probably say so. I might too, but I’m going to solve this puzzle anyway. Every puzzle. I’m more determined than ever before.


Tuesday, January 31, 2023

A messenger dragged me (literally) out of my room this morning. Let’s just say he has a few bruises now. I eventually complied though. He led me downstairs, glaring at me out of the corners of his eyes the whole way. He stopped at the door of what used to be my office. I kept walking—on purpose—forcing him to call me back. I only pretended not to hear him three times, okay? Fine, five. The messenger boy banged once on the door and flashed me a dirty look before he walked away. I responded in kind. A millisecond later, the door swung open.

"Come in," commanded the odd orange-eyed boy.

"'Please' would be nice," I muttered, stepping inside.

I sat in the guest chair in front of his desk without being asked. His office was the same size as Hefley’s, and had identical furniture too; however, this guy’s desk was entirely bare, excepting a half-burned candle in a simple silver holder. There were faintly glowing embers in the fireplace, along with a pile of ashes. I stared at the cinders for a moment. There was a slight tickle in my brain, and—

The boy cleared his throat, interrupting my thoughts. I don’t know how many times he’d tried to get my attention before that. "Peregrine, is it?" He went on with an unfeeling smile, "I’ve heard some interesting things about you."

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. "I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Who are you anyway?"

"Odysseus. Call me Odysseus."

"Okay, but is that your name or...?"

"This isn’t about me, love."

"What did you just call me?"

"It’s an expression. I feel nothing for you, don’t worry." His whole face seemed to laugh at the idea. I don’t know if I should be relieved or offended by that.

"Why am I here?" Good question....

"Well, the other captains generously decided to let lucky little me have a turn with their prize troublemaker." He swung his feet up onto the desk with a thump, and looked very proud of his not-so-subtle insult.

Troublemaker! I mean, maybe sometimes, but I’ve always been a pretty apt soldier in serious situations. I used to sit in that very chair, Mr. "I think I’m better than you and I’m not afraid to show it." Ugh. You go AWOL for three months one time and it makes a permanent mark on your record. That wasn’t even my fault! It was nobody’s fault, really. Well... actually, I guess it was mine for deciding to—nevermind. Hey, wait! Calypso said I would have had to have gone back and done that eventually because he remembered it, so was it really my choice? What if I hadn’t tried to chase him? Time paradoxes are weird.... What if I hadn’t tried to chase him? I suppose he alone would have been missing for months. That would have been terrible, not knowing if.... Did I even care that much back then? I must have, since.... It’s not even "back then" for us two, is it? Only about three months. How ironic.

"Prize troublemaker," I repeated. "I’m honored."

"So, you don’t regret it, eh?" Odysseus smirked.

"Regret what? Coming in here? I sure do."

"No no, your little fling a few months back."

"Exactly, three whole months, and yet people are still obsessed with it." I rolled my eyes at the ceiling.

"Three months for three months."—I have to admit, that’s an ace comeback.—"Word says your guy left you; no wonder you’re over all this gossip. Just so you know, I’m not going to feel sorry for you."

"What are you? Twelve?" I scoffed. "I could care less whether you feel sorry for me or not." If only you knew, bub. If only I knew....

"How come you’re so defensive, huh? I invited you here for a simple conversation and this is the thanks I get." He dropped his feet to the floor.

"I don’t think 'invited' is the right word," I shot back.

He shook his head and stood up, walking over to a tall skinny cabinet in the corner of the room. "Thirsty?" he asked, opening the cabinet door and taking out a decanter half full of blue liquid.

I said no. He brought two glasses to the desk anyway. I sloshed the drink around in mine while he chugged his in two gulps. Bilberry juice—with some additives, of course. Not my favorite, but it’s pretty popular in Andresia. If it’s blue, it’s in, I guess.

Odysseus sighed long and loud with satisfaction, then propped his elbows on the desktop and templed his fingers. "Your job is kind of in a grey area right now, ain’t it?"

I set my still-full glass down. "That’s one way to put it."

"Well," he slid my glass towards himself, "in that case, I have a proposition to make." He finished my juice in one swig.

I raised my eyebrows in a "go on" motion. I wasn’t genuinely interested in what his proposition was, only a bit curious; but, as long as he was blathering, I didn’t have to.

"I’m a captain, obviously, so I have some influence around here, also obviously. Here’s my offer," he pointed his fingers at me, "you help me with a mission, I help you gain your reputation again. Easy, no? A single handshake would seal the deal." He held out his left hand.

I glared at it. "You’re seriously trying to bribe me?"

"Ah, I wouldn’t call it that. Perhaps a... friendly negotiation. Is it working?"

"No, not well. You didn’t even tell me what the mysterious mission is."

"Nothing life-threatening. In fact, this can help you regain your station in life. What do you have to lose, anyway?"

I have nothing left to lose, that’s what. Man, there’s been such a moral decline since my time as a captain. I could have immediately said no—probably should have, but that decline may have affected me as well. As much as I wanted to stick to honest dealings, I had to consider the offer for a moment. I’m living on indecision right now. Not my indecision, but all the captains’. They’ve presumably never had a case quite like mine before. At any moment they can seal my fate, and then where would I go? I’m a seafarer, not a landlubber, and I’ve never traveled on my own before. Phillip’s been with me nearly every time I’ve gone anywhere in Esica, like a silly sort of tour guide.

Phillip. I can’t go back to sea, even if I wanted to. It’s too far off and drastic, because one thing is keeping me tied down. He doesn’t even know it. Dare I say I’ve been weighed down with a pile of stones? Gross, this is why I don’t try to be poetic. No, I have to stay in Andresia, if only I can focus on things besides what I’m eating today and where I’m sleeping tonight.

I took Odysseus’s hand. "Fine. Deal. But," I gripped his hand harder and leaned across the table to look him in the eye, "the moment things go sideways, I bail."

He leaned forwards too, until our noses were almost touching, and grinned without emotion again. "Works for me."

We shook—once—firmly—then we both straightened up.

"Pleasant chat," he said.

"Shut up," I responded.

And that was the end of that... or the beginning. I assume he’ll get back to me about that mysterious mission, since he didn’t try to stop me when I left. I honestly don’t know what exactly I’ve agreed to, but I do know I’ve become a horrible knight. I made that choice only because it benefited me, tossing away the possibility that whatever he’ll ask me to do is completely illegal. I can live with that. back to the good old days, I guess.

~~~~~

I have nothing to say right now. I might as well just write down what happened and then see if I can form coherent thoughts. So, there I was, putting the last pencil strokes on the word "guess," when I heard a voice like nails on a chalkboard behind me.

"Are you done yet?" She grumbled out of the blue.

I froze and slammed my journal shut so fast and hard that I almost crushed my other hand.

"I’ve been trying so hard to be patient," she continued, "but there’s such a thing as someone spending too much time alone with their thoughts. Oh, and if that wasn’t clear enough, I meant you. You’ve spent too much time."

I spun around in my chair and threw my pencil at her.

She reached out and caught it without taking her eyes off mine. "I don’t need to see your junk-journal to know what you did."

"Calypso, would you just leave me alone?"

"Really? You don’t want to know how I know?"

"I don’t care to know how you know."

"I’ll jump right into the matter then." Her face contorted from mocking to anger in seconds. "You’re an idiot!"

"No duh."

"Did you not take a minute to think of the fact that he could be blackmailing you? You don’t think he’ll turn right around to his precious, fellow army-heads? You don’t think the point was to test your integrity?"

"I..." hadn’t.

"Yeah, award goes to Peregrine for being blind yet again. Love has made you such a—a pickle head! You know that, don’t you?"

That’s offensive to the pickle, I thought. And what a Phillip thought that was. Maybe... maybe I see what point she was driving at now. "L—What?"

"What have you accomplished since he ditched you, huh? I wasn’t gonna add to the hordes of people already messing with you about this, but don’t you see how it’s affected you? Where’s the Peregrine with self-confidence if not a plan? With a witty comeback to any snide remark? An insult to add to every injury? I liked her better."

I didn’t have a response to that, further proving her point. Is it true? Is it possible that I—that he—I—I don’t think it is, but... I kind of have been a pickle head recently, haven’t I? Whatever that means.

Calypso drummed her fingers on my bed, theatrically waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, she actually soften her demeanor instead of yelling at me more. "Is that what the dear diary is for? You don’t have anyone to open up to about it, do you? No one to tell your deep dark secrets to, no one to share your inner thoughts with, no one to tell how much you love him."

Did I really just write "softened demeanor"? Sure, but her words still stung, and were no doubt intended to. Well, she’s right—about some things. So, dear diary, here’s you a deep, dark, secret, inner-thought: I lied to [Florian] about something. Why? I don’t know. I guess I was just trying to paint myself as a better person in my own mind. What did I tell him? I told him that I hadn’t realized how good of a friend Phillip was to me until he left. Truth is, I had realized. In fact, I’d known for a while that he might even be more than that. I never said anything though. I didn’t believe—still don’t believe—perhaps didn’t want to believe—that he could see me as more. If I wanted to distance myself from people, how could I afford to fall for them? It was a disaster in the making, and now the disaster is complete. So yes, Calypso, of course I’m an idiot. And I’ve only hurt myself.

When she said that, all I could do was stammer and wish away the tears in my eyes. Spoiler alert: that wish didn’t come true. She didn’t look apologetic, either, and I know she’s not the type of person who believes they’re being comforting when they’re really not.

"That’s what I thought. Have you ever actually listened to someone’s advice?" She then added in a mutter, "Better yet, has anyone ever given this girl good advice."

I turned away from her and stared down at my desk. My gaze landed on the masks from the ball... and Phillip’s note—both untouched since the day he left. That day seems so long ago. When did I become so wishy-washy? Calypso’s right, the old me would have moved on by now and found something new to put all her passion and energy into. I’m so tired of this being the same story everyday. I need to do something productive; venting feelings sure isn’t. I used to vent them in the form of punching things, but I haven’t felt like doing that in a while. I’ve felt—feel—defeated. I will do something... after I’m done with this.

Phillip’s note. Dear self, let’s talk about that for a minute. If he cared, he would have written more, right? Yeah, maybe, but I know him. Words on paper aren’t really his strong suit. But, wouldn’t you think he’d have said them out loud then? Perhaps, but there might never have been a chance. It’s Phillip. He could have easily made a chance, so why didn’t he? Well, I know a thing or two or three about secrets. These things are hard to say, to write, to tell, to admit. I haven’t exactly made myself trustworthy either. I’ve always been the worse in this pair. Where’s my right to be mad at him for what he did? I’m mad at myself, honestly. And I think I’ve always been pretty good at releasing real, unfettered anger only where it’s due (aka, usually at myself). It’s just such an out of character thing for him, and such a big thing, that I’m furious at myself for missing it.

When I’d sat frozen for more than a few minutes, Calypso asked, "Are you broken?"

In a monotone daze, I said yes.

"What, do you need a hug or something?"

"Not from you."

"You need to get out of Andresia."

"What?"

"You need to leave. There are people here gunning for your head on a silver platter."

"I don’t even deserve a bronze one."

I could practically feel her eye roll. "Mope all you want. It won’t change anything for the better. How could you be so stupid as to accept that deal earlier? What, you’re trying to stay here for Phillip? Straight up going to Firidi would make more sense than that!"

"Going to—how do you know where he is?"

"I work at the Time Hall. I know things. Deal with it."

I barely noticed her answer. The gears in my head were slowly starting to grind again. "Going to Firidi would... only make things worse? He clearly doesn’t want me to bother him, right? And anyway, that’s something only a... a—"

"A person madly in love would do," Calypso interrupted. "But you’re not, so you won’t."

"A true friend would do...." I lamely finished.

She laughed at me. "Good luck with that. You do something that dumb and obvious, and he’ll never see you as just a friend again. Is that what you want?"

"N—no?"

"Yeah, so don’t go getting any ideas. I mean it. Shoot...." She added that last word under her breath, hopefully realizing that she had been the one to make a mistake that time. She’s planted the idea in my head now, but I know it’s dumb. I’m not doing that. Ever.

I snorted one time at her. Who’s the idiot now? In all honesty, still me. "Can you go now?"

"Gladly."

I’ve never seen anyone scramble away that fast. In literally the timespan of one blink, she was gone. Such a short time it was that I don’t even know how she left. Teleportation doesn’t seem like much of a stretch. Why did she care to come? That’s twice now. Suspicious. Anyway... I—I just have tangled knots of thoughts now. I would try to write them down, but.... Why am I so choosy about putting stuff in here? No one has to see it. I’m just talking to myself, and myself would like to know: Do I really love him?


Wednesday, February 1, 2023

Today is the day I snap out of my funk and and do something productive. In fact, today is the day I don’t write a word about the origin of said funk... to the best of my ability, anyway. Yeah, see, I’m attempting to be more honest with myself than I’ve been in the past. It’s all part of the new Perry. Well, not new—not in the slightest—just changed. I even switched up my look for the day, meaning that all I did different was make an effort.

I woke up this morning with newfound determination to do something with myself. Calypso said moping wouldn’t fix anything, and I agree. And fine, yes, I acknowledge that I’ve been a bit mopey lately. Very un-Peregrine of me... maybe this changed me has some downsides; she’s much more emotional. Uh, moving on... after I woke up, I decided to journey to Aster H.Q. and pay a visit to their library. I actually have yet to do that, but I felt like writing this down first. Something else Calypso said yesterday caught my attention looking back. Someone has given me pretty logical advice, and it’s time that I take it. Everybody has a weakness, even Ember. It’s simply a matter of looking long and hard enough to find it. What better place to start than the biggest stalker organization on Earth?