ã€ŠCairoã€‹


 Fallen Soldiers (Chapter 1)

    One, two, three, four. Four, three, two, one. One, three, and then suddenly a five. The keys of the piano sang their notes like worn out conflict. The exhausted indents in which they used to scrape and prod against each other were now treaded paths of placid accommodation. Setting a pattern, playing it backwards, then doing away with it completely. He did not understand it. Instructions given just to be rescinded in the next measure. Glimpses of another melody, a different song revealed for singular moments before the notes fell back in line like dispassionate soldiers.

    Questions were created and left behind with wanton abandon. But he did not need to worry about giving them answers. No, his job was simply to carry on pressing the keys in a hollow march towards end of the melody. Stopping the steady stream of questions in hopes of acquiring just a single answer made no sense. Even if he managed to acquire the answer to that single, insignificant question, would it end there? Would there be nothing left to say about it? Surely not. If anything, peeling back just one layer would only open the flood gates for the dozens of others held back by its presence. And that could not possibly be anything less than undoubtedly, excruciatingly, infuriatingly-

    ¡°Annoying.¡± He hissed as his fingers settled more slowly on the last few notes before slipping off the piano entirely.

    ¡°Wooaaah!¡± Accompanied by a violent applause, was the far too empowered voice of Caroline Aspern. Her curly black hair bobbed up and down almost mockingly as she continued to slap her hands together in a quite invasive show of what Cairo was sure was supposed to be support.

    ¡°That was great Cay! Keep going!¡± She exclaimed as he struggled with all his might to stop his face from contorting into something that showed even a fraction of the discomfort he felt inside. He¡¯d initially tried to explain to her how she was a failure of an English teacher for shortening his name from a lofty two syllables down to one for convenience¡¯s sake, but it did not seem to have been enough to deter her.

    ¡°Thanks¡­ but I think I got to practice it a little more.¡± he said weakly, looking back at her with a stiff smile. He reached out to grab a pair of black headphones that hung on the corner of the piano beside him, beginning to wrap them around his head before turning back to Ms. Aspern.

    ¡®Ah.¡¯ He realized his mistake as he prepared for the words that would come next.

    ¡®Stop wearing those things all the time! You¡¯re unapproachable enough without them. Do you want to kill your already fleeting chances of finding a friend?¡¯ The words played out in his head as he waited to hear them realized from the woman in front of him. Instead, an awkward silence ensued.

    He stared back at her, slightly irritated as he saw the uncharacteristically hesitant look in her eyes. She seemed to be desperately holding back her words.

    ¡®Tch¡¯ He quietly clicked his tongue.

    He hated being coddled like this.

    Still, he pulled his headphones down to rest around his neck to give her some respite from her internal struggle.

    Caroline flashed a soft smile before finally speaking. ¡°Just¡­ don¡¯t overthink it.¡± She said cryptically as Cairo wondered if she was still referring to the song.

    Her eyes wandered from him up to the calendar pinned up on the wall just beside her desk. While the room was originally meant to be used for a music class, it essentially functioned as Ms. Aspern¡¯s personal office ever since the only music teacher in school quite literally disappeared around four years before Cairo had enrolled. Caroline loved to tell that story, and so he had ended up hearing it at least a couple dozen times. Apparently, it was quite hard to find another masochist who had gone through the same years of schooling needed to qualify for the job, who was also willing to work minimum wage.

    ¡°It¡¯s almost November again, huh?¡± Caroline wondered aloud as Cairo¡¯s eyes followed her gaze to the calendar.

    ¡°Cairo.¡± Her voice softened as he turned back to face her. ¡°It¡¯s already that time again¡­ Are you¡­?¡± Her voice trailed off as her words seemed to, once again, catch in her throat. Cairo shifted uncomfortably, anticipating her next words. Yet the longer he was left waiting, the more his discomfort turned to irritation.

    It was almost more than he could take at this point, he needed to do something about it. ¡°It¡¯s already that time, huh?¡± He remarked in an exaggeratedly thoughtful tone, looking back at the calendar. ¡°You know, I barely survived last time. What with all the mood swings, and hysteria¡­¡± He started before turning back to Caroline and speaking gently. ¡°Listen, I know I never talk about this, but I really need to tell you something.¡± He confessed, and Caroline looked back at him with a mixture of surprise and concern.

    ¡°Y-yeah, of course! You know you can tell me anything Cay.¡± She said with the utmost care she could muster in her voice. Somehow, she hadn¡¯t noticed his eyes twitching for a moment at her gesture.

    ¡°Last time¡­ you were a bit too¡­ sensitive for me to talk to you. But since it¡¯s already that time for you again¡­ I know it¡¯s not exactly my place, but with the store prices and everything, I figured I¡¯d let you know, if you need it¡­ I know a guy who can get you tampons suuuper chea-¡° Before he could finish his sentence, a prominent flick to the head stopped his voice in its tracks.

    ¡°AGHH¡± Cairo yelled out in exaggerated agony as he held his forehead with both hands. ¡°Ouch! Listen, Caroline, this is just your hormones acting up, you need to calm dow-¡± He was forced to jump to the side narrowly dodging a ruler mid-sentence as it flew through the air past him with incredible speed.

    ¡°Scram you brat! I thought you were being serious!¡± Caroline shouted back at him as he slowly backed away towards the exit.

    ¡°And there¡¯s the aggression.¡± He added in a knowing tone as she glared back at him.

    ¡°Get the hell out of here!¡± Caroline shouted breathily, struggling to restrain the growing contortion of her face that made her retort sound like something between an angry yell and a confused laugh.

    Cairo escaped into the hallway with a chuckle as Caroline was left glaring back at the door as her lips helplessly curved upward.

    ¡°Idiot.¡±

    <hr>

    Eyes always pointed down on your next step, hands buried in your pockets, and hoodie pulled down an efficient three inches above eye level. These were the optimal conditions Cairo had discovered for avoiding the maximum amount of human contact while traversing the lengthy hallways of his school. Coupled with his pitch-black "don¡¯t talk to me" headphones, his defenses were impenetrable¡ªor at least, he hoped they were.

    As he moved towards the piano rooms, he stuck close to the walls, each turn executed at a perfect 90-degree angle. His movements were methodical, as though he had rehearsed this routine a hundred times. He thought that if there were a competition for who could take the most efficient path through these halls, he would definitely win. Every step reducing one more unnecessary second spent out in halls saturated with the incessant chatter of students who populated every bench, corner, and lounge along his path.

    He spotted his destination as he rounded the final corner, making a beeline for the first cubicle he could reach. Salvation was mere feet away when the invasive whisper of air snaked its way into his ear. He felt a pressure grow on the side of his face before giving away entirely. Cairo clicked his tongue in frustration.

    He unwrapped the headphones from his head, prepared to repair the damn thing for the umpteenth time. The entire left muff was detached, a single frayed wire tethering it to the rest of the device. Back up from where it had fallen, a hollow cylinder of masking tape was agape in the shape of the disconnected piece. He stared at it for a moment. It wasn¡¯t much¡ªjust a strip of worn adhesive¡ªbut it had held longer than it should have, stubbornly keeping things together. He¡¯d meant to replace it ages ago, but something about peeling it off now made him pause.

    A fleeting thought surfaced, unbidden, as he looked down on it: she would¡¯ve found this funny. The corners of his mouth twitched¡ªhalf a smirk, half a wince¡ªbut he crushed the feeling just as quickly as it had come. Clicking his tongue in irritation, he unwound the tape with a sharp tug.

    ¡°Nothing lasts forever.¡± He said aloud, almost to remind himself. With a resigned sigh, he tossed the stripped tape into a nearby trash can. He¡¯d fix the headphones later; for now, he walked down the hall exposed, one ear open to the world.

    He should have known better.

    ¡°Hey, you~¡± Cairo shuddered as the overly ¡®cute¡¯ tone of the words hit him like nails on a chalkboard, falsely sweet and unnervingly familiar.

    He turned slowly to find Valerie standing there, her smile so bright it seemed almost malicious. Her green eyes were narrowed, hiding something behind their cheery exterior.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Cairo replied curtly. He realized he¡¯d been staring too long when her face shifted, a quiet chuckle slipping through her lips.

    ¡°You¡¯re so weird,¡± she said, her laugh exaggerated and light.

    Cairo internally marveled at her ability to be so casually rude. He wasn¡¯t sure if he should be offended or impressed by it.

    Before he could respond to her sudden insult, Valerie shifted topics. ¡°So, prom¡¯s next weekend,¡± she began, the feigned brightness in her tone grating on his nerves. ¡°Are you planning to go? I have a feeling it¡¯s going to be a lot more interesting this year-¡±

    ¡°No.¡± His answer came quickly, cutting her sentence short before it could gain momentum.

    Valerie blinked, caught off guard by his abruptness. ¡°Oh.¡± She replied almost instinctively followed by a lengthy silence. A sudden clack began from the floor beneath her, as Cairo shifted his eyes to see her foot lightly tapping on the ground.

    ¡°I mean, I kind of have to go. Student council president and all. You can¡¯t really be missing the person who planned the whole thing. Her voice softened slightly. ¡°I¡¯m just not sure who I¡¯m going with yet.¡±

    Another silence ensued before Cairo decided he¡¯d had enough of this pain. ¡°I, uh, I was actually heading to practice just now, so¡­¡± he said, pointing over his shoulder to the piano rooms that loomed tantalizingly close. His awkward tone betrayed how much he wanted the conversation to end.

    As if echoing his sentiment Valerie nodded briskly. ¡°Oh, sure. Yeah, see you around.¡± She turned on her heel and walked away without giving him another moment. Her steady measured steps echoed faintly in the hall.

    As Cairo finally stepped into the piano room, he heard a deep breath being drawn out from the hallway behind him. But he only turned to close the door behind him, letting the sanctuary of the piano room consume him.

    <hr>

    Cairo drew a sharp breath as he allowed himself to topple over onto the chair beneath him. He gazed intently at his backpack that he had plopped beside him, then to the piano, then back to his bag. The debate didn¡¯t last long. After all, he¡¯d already decided before coming in here. He tore open the zipper before fishing out his laptop and placing it firmly on his lap.

    Using the piano rooms to play the piano? Hah. That was almost as rare as finding someone using the school bathrooms to actually take a dump. Mostly, they were used by theatre kids to veg out during their lunch break or free time after school. Much like what Cairo was about to do just now. Of course, he did use it to practice. Sometimes.

    ¡°WELCOME LITTLE LAMBS, TO THE DEN OF WOLVES.¡± Yamol¡¯s booming voice filled his ears, accompanied by the triumphant trumpets and pounding drums of the menu¡¯s music. For as long as the first few years of hearing his voice, he¡¯d felt a strange sense of unease, like the six-eyed tentacle abomination had slithered his voice straight down his ear canal. Now, however, routine had numbed any real emotion he used to feel from it.

    Then came the music: an anthem fit for a war. Cairo leaned back in his chair as the game¡¯s logo materialized on screen, the golden letters glowing faintly:

    Caldria.

    He exhaled slowly. Six years. That¡¯s how long he¡¯d been trying to beat this game. Or maybe it was five, if you didn¡¯t count the gap when he¡¯d left it untouched. He hadn¡¯t planned to stop¡ªjust, drifted away for a while. The menu music swelled before slowly fading away.

    As the screen transitioned without so much as a tap from his fingers, Cairo let himself slip once more into the mystery that surrounded the game. It was too good to have been some forgotten indie project, yet he¡¯d scoured every corner of the internet and found nothing about it. No forums, no walkthroughs, not even a hint of its existence. The only proof that it existed was right here on this laptop.

    It wasn¡¯t his originally. He¡¯d stumbled upon it while sorting through the plethora of old junk that infested his attic. It wasn¡¯t what he was looking for, and he was in awe when the piece of crap had even hummed to life in the first place. As soon as it did, however, the laptop booted up the game as if it was only natural to do so.

    Despite everything he had tried, Cairo eventually had to concede to the fact that this laptop was only capable of three functions: booting up, shutting down, and running the complete enigma of the game known only as ¡®Caldria¡¯. In addition, the laptop lacked ports of any kind other than a shamelessly large power jack that was positioned dead in the middle of its backside. Despite what that might suggest, the laptop hardly needed to charge for long before it could go for dozens of hours without so much as a stutter.

    The goal of the game was quite simple on paper: conquer the entirety of ¡®Caldria¡¯. Yet it was nowhere near as simple in application.

    The world of Caldria was vast, sprawling across three massive continents on an incredibly detailed map. Each continent contained a myriad of countries, each boasting unique races. While the game tried to categorize these races into typical fantasy archetypes¡ªDwarves, Elves, Giants, Orcs, Humans¡ªthere were always subtle, inconsolable differences that made it impossible to feel as though the game wasn''t just coddling you with its labels. There were also entirely non-traditional races like the ''Twinch'': humanoid rats that used poison and steampunk-like technology for warfare, the Tomb Kings, the ''Asinai,'' and another race known simply as ''The Reds,'' whom Cairo refused to even think about, the bad memories threatening to undo him if he allowed them to.

    Every empire, country, and faction had its own intricate systems of governance, politics, economics, and religious ideologies. The game featured highly realistic systems of colonization, vassalage, knighthoods, churches, cults, mercantile guilds, and countless other organizations, making the task of conquering the entire world feel intentionally, impossibly difficult.

    Cairo adjusted his seat as the computer screen finally loaded up his character lying in bed, the soft glow of a single candle flickering beside the bedside.

    ¡°Time to get you out of bed, buddy,¡± Cairo mumbled as he hit the command key to [Rise]. Despite the overwhelming complexity of the game, he felt like this might finally be the run where he could see it through to the end. Caldria ran like a never-ending simulation¡ªthe game persisted until you found a bed to rest, where attempting to quit the game at any other point often resulted in immediate death. Even once Cairo had reached a bed, his character would simply lie there, suspended in time, until his return. He''d lost count of how many times his past characters had died during this state of limbo. He would leave them safe in bed, only to be notified of their sudden death by the game, which immediately thrusting him into a fresh campaign without a moment to mourn. This current character, however, had managed to survive this long despite that fact. He¡¯d began with it almost two years ago and had gotten farther with this one than ever before. Of course, that fact was attributed heavily to by the fact that he spent time on little else than the game.

    The moans of wooden floorboards creaked from below as his character stood. As if on cue, a prompt immediately appeared on screen: [(Ira) informs you of the advancing Ireban army.]

    Cairo¡¯s eyes lit up with amusement as he read the message, a grin slowly forming on his lips. ¡°Oh? Those orcs are more clever than I gave them credit for.¡± He leaned back, adjusting himself more comfortably in the chair. A tall and slender, brown-skinned woman stood at foot of his bed, her character model sporting short, black hair and adorned with an ivory scarf that wrapped loosely around her nape. Almost diametrically opposed to her delicate upper half, were the tiles of dull brown plated armor that stuck to her chest, back, and shoulders and continued down her legs, connected by almost equally thick, leathery material.

    Cairo coughed as he looked to Ira, his in-game spouse, clad in war-gear. Although the marriage was more so political, used as leverage towards his goal of beating the game, than anything else, he still felt a strange sense of guilt seeing her dressed like just another soldier in his army. Of course, it wasn''t that she wasn''t more than capable of fighting alongside him. She was, after all, an incredibly rare type of mage¡ªa stone-weaver. In the world of Caldria, mages themselves were incredibly hard to come by in themselves. They were classified separately from magic casters, who were more akin to real-world scientists: harnessing magic through runes inscribed with complex equations and other ''practical ''means. Mages on the other hand, enviably, were born to wield their magic. Possessing innate, and what some called "unearned" talent and control over the world passed down through genetics and a bit of luck.

    But it wasn''t all dandelions and roses for mages either. Being capable of great things didn''t make you immune to them after all. There were countless instances of mages drowning themselves, pulling their own bodies apart, suffocating within prisons of their own making, and meeting their end to many other terrifying fates. Mages were often vilified as a result, treated as natural disasters by those around them since it wasn''t only themselves, they ended up affecting during their ''accidents''. Mages were also unable to utilize the traditional methods of magic casters, with their bodies often rejecting any external forces of magic, forcing them to only use the magic they have an affinity for. Cast out at best and ''purged'' at worst, there were only so many places they were able to exercise their power without fear of repercussion. As expected, power needed to be honed through practice regardless of its form. Cairo nodded internally as he pondered.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Of those incredibly rare mages, stone-weavers like Ira were an exception among exceptions. Capable of manipulating the earth itself, summoning walls of sandstone, firing barrages of stone missiles and creating tremors in the ground itself. Also, all the other cool stuff you could imagine like riding manipulated waves of stone and throwing boulders the size of small houses. Ira herself would also often bring up ''hearing the earth'' as she called it. Warning of advancing armies and pending disaster days or even weeks before the threat would arrive.

    Putting aside his thoughts, Cairo quickly navigated through the in-game interface to view his map, upon which he was able to see the incredibly close proximity of the Ireban Tribe''s slowly advancing army. He pulled his focus back to them, furrowing his brows as he went over the situation. The castle his character was currently staying in was one he had only just acquired after a lengthy siege. The garrison was still populated only by the men and women of that battle, most of whom were still low on hp from the previous battle. The battalion of soldiers meant to take over the castle while Cairo and his army advanced their campaign would also take about two weeks before arriving at the castle.

    While it was certainly not an ideal situation... "Hah!" Cairo scoffed aloud as he reminded it was an army of Orcs he was dealing with. While he applauded their idea to attack at such an opportune time, they were stupid to think it would be that easy. To get here that quickly, their army must be extremely fatigued from the non-stop marching. There was no way that those clueless orcs had any solid battle plan either. If they had gotten there just a bit earlier, they might have caught him while he was still off the game, now though? They could only curse god for their bad luck.

    <hr>

    Cairo stared at his character with hesitant eyes. Adorned in performatively showy black and gold-plated armor, absurdly thick for a fantasy game, and riding a black-maned horse that was teeming with enough muscle it could have been mistaken for a tank, he was confused on how to feel. His character itself was no less ''dazzling''. Sporting long locks of white hair and inhuman, red-tinted eyes. A full beard adorned his face, as although not a spot of his hair was so much as stained in a color other than white, the character still gave off an air of strength and vitality. "Cool, but a bit cringe..." Cairo muttered to himself as he maneuvered his character towards the castle''s walls. Although the armor and mount were something he had control over, the appearance of his character was never up to him, always seemingly generated by the game at the start of a new campaign.

    Finally reaching the gates, Cairo soaked in the view of his garrison. Archers lined up along the battlements on either side of freshly hung black-and-gold banners which flanked them on either side. Below, infantry stood ready at the foot of the castle gate itself, ready with spears, swords, and shields to meet their enemy in melee combat. Though of course, if all went well, they wouldn''t have to lift a finger in this battle. Gunther, his garrison commander, met him at the front, launching into a variation of the same question Cairo had heard countless times before.

    [¡°Your orders, my liege?¡±] the prompt appeared.

    Cairo rolled his eyes, knowing the dialogue too well. But even then, it was never quite the same words but always meaning exactly the same thing.

    Cairo looked out onto the swarming mass of orcs approaching from the desert beyond the castle. From where he stood atop the walls, they looked like a moving mass of skittles, their varied hues of skin blending together in a chaotic, colorful march under the orange glare of the sun. He shifted his gaze downward, focusing on his frontier squad of infantry positioned in front of their closed castle gate. They were the platoon that always bore the brunt of these sieges, their losses often extreme. Cairo sighed; it was unfortunate, but it was also the most effective strategy for dealing with a siege from a defensive standpoint.

    "Prepare barrels of [Oil]" Cairo input his command, his eyes still focused on the mass of orcs as the garrison along the walls began to move. The orc army was nearing the castle''s foot, their frontlines dotted with warriors carrying crude ladders. This was new¡ªCairo raised an eyebrow in surprise. The orcs had never tried to use ladders before. He pondered if thought was something they were even capable of as he recalled how they had only ever tried to break in through sheer force in previous sieges. Despite their stupidity, it wasn''t even too rare that they succeeded regardless, due purely to their overwhelming physical power.

    Still, it was common knowledge that those defending a siege were in a spot a thousand times more fortunate than their opposition. And while using ladders in a siege wasn''t that uncommon of an idea, in a world where anything from boulders, to arrows, fire, and even magic could be rained down upon you from above, it was a stupid notion, even by orc standards.

    Suddenly, the orcs halted roughly a hundred feet from the castle¡ªjust barely within the range of the longest-range archers stationed along the battlements. Cairo narrowed his eyes, caution flaring. He signaled the archers to hold their fire. Something was happening. A commotion broke from within the ranks of the orc army; the sight of orcs being tossed aside like ragdolls made its way closer as a massive presence forced its way to the front of the crowd.

    Sunlight glinted off ebony skin as an enormous orc emerged from the throng. He raised a white, ghoulish gauntlet and pointed directly at Cairo, who stood watching with folded arms. Cairo recognized him before the game even prompted him¡ª [Grolsch "The Berserk"]. The game provided his name and epithet unnecessarily. Anyone could tell from the stark contrast of the white gauntlet against his black skin who it was.

    Grolsch''s mouth opened, revealing teeth stained brown and pink¡ªCairo gave his silent condolences as he thought of those who had died from the stench alone. Garbled speech poured out of Grolsch''s mouth, incomprehensible as always, as Cairo waited for the game to translate.

    A prompt appeared on the screen: [Grolsch the Berserk is willing to retreat in exchange for the return of [Black Hill Castle] and a [300 million denar] tribute to his tribe.]

    "300 million!? What are you retar¡ª" Cairo caught himself, cutting his words short. He immediately selected to deny the offer. Grolsch''s response was swift; he bellowed in rage, commanding his troops forward. The orcs surged past him, their march quickening as they charged toward the castle gate.

    The orcs ran forward, clashing almost immediately with the frontier infantry squad. Wielding crude axes, jagged swords, and heavy clubs, the orcs were a race whose brute strength was only tempered by the complete absence of their dexterity in crafting weaponry. The archers poured scalding oil down from above, dousing the orcs the frontier squad bought time using hit-and-run tactics. They quickly struck the orcs, absorbing their blows with towering pulse shields before pulling back into a designated safe zone populated by healers. Some even managed to set the orcs alight, equipped with weapons etched with runes for [Flame] precisely for this reason. Other runes on their gear ensured oil would slip off of their equipment and armor to prevent them from falling prey to their own weaponry.

    The orcs panicked under the sudden flames, some flailing violently as the oil from above seeped into their eyes. Despite the chaos and confusion, the orcs still managed to prop several ladders against the wall, driven by determination¡ªor more likely desperation.

    Cairo watched as the last of the barrels of oil were poured onto the swarm below. [Ready arrows] he commanded as his archers drew runed arrows, their tips glowing faintly as magic was poured into them. Cairo smirked. He had taken great care in crafting the custom command for this. He input the word: ''Ember.''

    The frontier squad immediately retreated, regrouping just beyond the castle gate as magical barriers activated, closing them off from the battlefield. Cairo gave the next command. "Loose!" The archers let their arrows fly, and Cairo braced himself for the explosion of messages from orc deaths.

    But nothing happened.

    Instead, each arrow seemed to disintegrate, falling prey to an invisible wall they could not pass. Cairo''s face contorted before he squinted, spotting a faint brown glow where the arrows were stopped. Shaman magic. He looked up at Grolsch, who smirked up at him while several shamans at his side concentrated, casting the barrier.

    Cairo clicked his tongue. The orcs'' morale appeared to surge again with the protection of the barrier, and Gunther''s prompt popped up beside Cairo. ["What shall we do, my liege?"]

    Cairo clicked his tongue as Gunther''s words once again flashed on his screen. If this was his general commander or even a vassal, he would no doubt be able to do more than just ask for his opinion over and over again. But alas, they were all off making sure the rest of his kingdom did not fall apart in his absence, and so he was left with this low-ranking commander meant only to head the garrison of this castle after Cairo''s departure.

    The situation was bad, no doubt about it. The orcs outnumbered the garrison ten to one. They were fatigued from marching, but that hardly mattered¡ªthey were still better prepared for a prolonged fight than Cairo''s forces, who had only just won their own siege a few days prior. Their only advantage was their defensive position, and now even that was being threatened.

    The archers'' range advantage was rendered useless by the shamans'' barrier. Of course, they would have to dispel it eventually for the orcs to be able to climb through without being turned to mush. But if the orcs made it even halfway up the walls in the meantime, that small window would hardly matter. The mostly archer-filled defense would be easily overrun. Cairo had stationed most of the infantry at the castle gate, leaving the archers to fend for themselves on the battlements. If the orcs got up the ladders and onto the walls, they would overwhelm the archers and surround the remaining infantry standing below. Cairo clicked his tongue as he realized how worthless their positioning had become after the orc''s decision not to siege through their traditional means.

    Gunther''s prompt flashed again. ["My liege!"]

    ''But...'' Cairo looked out at Grolsch, smirking confidently from below. He let out a laugh. "You think I''m as stupid as you are, Grolsch?"

    If they couldn''t hit the orcs from above, then they would just have to hit them from below.

    Cairo input another custom command without a moment of hesitation: ''Blood Ritual.'' On cue, Ira appeared from behind him, her hands wrapping around a tile of the castle wall before it began to depress in delicate strokes, forming a web of symbols within a large circle. Ira did not stop there however, her figure quivering in what appeared to be a display extreme concentration as the depression made its way down the exterior of the castle wall, snaking to the ground below the Orcs before splitting even more depressions that engraved the sandstone below the orcs itself. In a display of articulation Cairo could only gawk at, countless identical runic circles were shaped by cracks in the shifting stone beneath the orcs. The orcs were equally shocked, many losing their footing during the torrent of tremors from beneath them which offset their sense of balance.

    While it was him who had designed these runes and command after endless amounts of trial and error, it truly should have been called cheating to have a stone-weaver able to engrave them spontaneously. Following the command through to the end, his own character moved, cutting into his own hand in an animation Cairo had seen countless times before, blood dripping down onto first runic circle engraved into the castle wall. The circle glowed before channeling the same glow down the path made out by Ira below to the ground just outside the castle, threading through the soil below the orcs.

    Cairo smiled as the blood reached the end of the runic network. The ground rumbled, and a red, effervescent glow lit up beneath the orcs. Dozens of intricate magic circles sprang up, symbols and shapes lighting up in tandem.

    "I hope you can dispel that barrier fast enough," Cairo muttered.

    The ground erupted. Flames spewed from the earth that seemed to have melted into lava, wild blazes ignited the oil-soaked orcs as the entire army was engulfed in a sea of red flames. The orcs scrambled in panic, trying to flee in every direction, only to be met by the cold, unforgiving barrier of the shamans, trapping them in their own fiery hell.

    Grolsch roared in anger, turning to the shamans who scrambled to dispel the barrier. Enraged, Grolsch, grabbed a few before crushing them to pulp.

    "Well, I suppose that does speed things up," Cairo mused, watching the chaos unfold. He turned to Ira who''s hp looked to have fallen a considerable amount. Strangely, her character model seemed to appear more... pale? He figured it must have been a trick of the light as the sun set above them. After all, the character models had never done something like spontaneously change before. Especially not in the middle of a battle.

    Eventually the brown glow of the barrier faltered, softening before dissipating entirely. The shamans beside Grolsch hurriedly began casting water over the crowd of orcs along with surges of cold steam in order to quell the flames. As soon as the majority of the orcs were cured of their fiery state, Cairo laughed. "Oh, are you done with your barrier? Our turn!" He said with a cheery smile. Cairo signaled to Ira with another custom command. The earth shook along with his screen as two massive stone walls erupted on either side of the orcs, as well as behind them, leaving only the side facing the castle walls open. With nowhere left to turn, the orcs looked up to the castle gates with laughably pitiable expressions as soot and ash covered their faces.

    [Loose] Cairo commanded again.

    The archer variants and mages let loose dozens of arrows and spells, all aimed at the trapped orcs. Explosions of fire, lightning, and dust filled the cauldron of trapped orcs.

    Amongst the fog of explosions, a burst of rocks flew into the air from behind the orcs, and Cairo immediately recognized what was causing it. "A little too late to save them now, Grolsch," he mused.

    Suddenly, the explosions stopped, leaving nothing but a cloud of smoke. As the smoke slowly cleared, Cairo noticed a glint of light reflecting off something deep within the lingering fog.

    "Another barrier?" Cairo wondered, though he quickly dismissed the thought. Even orcs wouldn''t be foolish enough to try the exact same tactic twice.

    As the smoke slowly cleared, the glare of the sun seemed to build upon the glint as it became almost blinding in its intensity, slowly marching towards them through the smog. Cairo squinted at the shape emerging from the haze before he was able to make out the material. ''That''s... What the hell!'' he thought, his mind racing. He quickly commanded his troops to stop firing, panic beginning to cloud his thoughts as he tried confirm what he really didn''t want to believe.

    When the fog finally dispersed enough, Cairo saw it clearly¡ªa massive, shining slab of a glowing silver metal, carried on the backs of dozens of orcs. It resembled a gate, with two imposing doors, and etched into its surface were thousands¡ªno, tens of thousands¡ªof tiny runes, much of them glowing faintly with iridescent light, as if charged with energy.

    Cairo¡¯s eyes widened, his heartbeat quickening. ''Where the hell did they manage to get their claws on that much iridescent silver!?'' he shouted internally as the orcs slowly advanced toward the castle gate. The runes glowed, absorbing the magic power fired at them¡ªeach projectile disappearing into nothingness as it made contact with the slab.

    Iridescent silver was no ordinary metal. It was incredibly rare, a material that could hold magic power¡ªbut only if the correct runes were inscribed onto it. In Caldria, it was easy to find material that could interact with magic power, but absorbing it was a completely different deal. It was the difference between using a slab of metal to push around water in a pool and using a flask to actually bottle the water. Of course, it required a completely different type of skill than filling a water bottle. If someone decided to just throw an attack spell at a piece of iridescent silver, it would split into a thousand pieces and that person would be labeled an imbecile. But if you could find an inscriber of a high enough skill level to etch the inverse equations for a spell class, or ''cagra'' as the game called it, into the material, then it would be able to absorb almost any spell of that class. Of course, if you hit it with too strong of a spell or the equation was written wrong it would still function essentially as a frag grenade, turning your corpse into a porcupine if the blast itself didn''t evaporate you.

    Even if you had put in just enough mana so it didn''t implode, if you accidentally dropped it more than two feet, it would implode just the same. So, it was insanely stupid to try to use for something like magic-resistant armor. If you were trying to do that, there were far more stable metals which were capable of dispelling magic rather than absorbing it. And so, the question therefore would be: "Why would they bother with something so volatile?" Cairo pondered, watching as the orcs carried the slab closer and closer to the castle walls. The answer became obvious in the pit of his stomach: it wasn¡¯t a shield, it was a weapon¡ªa bomb, though in this case, an insanely large nuke.

    Cairo signaled for his men to retreat, immediately jumping backward off of the castle wall. It was obvious that staying put meant certain doom. He watched as Grolsch, his massive figure looming in front of the castle, smiled at his men beneath the slab. The orcs were pulling the iridescent silver gate back, and it was clear what they intended to do with it. Cairo''s stomach dropped as he felt the effort of his last two years threatened. ''Those psychos!''

    He wasted no time. He commanded the [Hawa] in his ranks to activate [Fly] and [Spatial Distortion] spells, reducing air resistance around him, Ira, and the rest of their group, boosting their speed as they flew away from the castle as fast as possible.

    He looked over his shoulder just in time to see the slab fly through the air. It moved with surprising grace, almost serene in its lethality, as it crashed directly into the castle gate. Cairo¡¯s eyes widened as the gate splintered under the massive impact. His infantry¡ªthe bulk of his forces¡ªwere still on the ground within the gate''s vicinity.

    A second passed in silence. The air seemed frozen in that breathless moment, Cairo''s gaze locked onto the scene as it shrunk smaller and smaller as his group moved away from it. Then, all at once, the sky was filled with a blinding light, and everything went deathly silent. The brightness drowned out all details in a searing white that made it impossible to see.

    As the light began to dim, a massive cloud of smoke rose above the castle, billowing outwards, reaching hundreds of feet into the sky. The castle was gone¡ªobliterated.

    Splinters of the castle flew through the air, the explosion''s shockwave sending fragments even as far as Cairo and his men. He quickly commanded the magicians to dispel the [Spatial Distortion] and cast a protective barrier. The shimmering barrier formed just in time, the splinters and shards of rock bouncing harmlessly off its surface. Cairo exhaled, his hands trembling. The once imposing castle was now nothing but a smoking ruin.

    Cairo silently observed the explosion, the sheer magnitude of it beyond anything he had ever seen in the game before. Even the hills on the far opposite side of the castle seemed to shake from the blast. He couldn''t help but feel a sense of awe. How the hell was this shabby laptop computing something of this magnitude, he wondered. It didn¡¯t seem possible¡ªthis game, with its grainy, static-like graphics, was doing something that would push even the latest gaming rigs to their limits. But what it lacked in visuals, it more than made up for with the sheer scale of its content.

    As if in response to his rumination the screen began to lower in its already meager resolution, with some parts of the screen turning to waves of static. Cairo looked on with only a light curiosity. It was not the first time the game had lagged like this, and it was often in this manner after a large event. But he wondered... ¨Cwhy did it always appear more akin to buffering from a video stream rather than lag from a live-rendered game?

    Cairo shook his head, dismissing the thought. He had more pressing matters at hand. He remembered the troops he''d left behind in the castle. He quickly commanded the magicians to bring him back, channeling his own mana pool to cast a wind affinity spell on his party, enhancing their speed as they flew back to the castle.

    As they approached the ruins, Cairo could hardly recognize what was left. The castle was a pile of rubble, and the charred, blackened remains of both orcs and his infantry were scattered across the site. He clenched his teeth in frustration, an involuntary click of the tongue escaping his lips. Troops he had spent an insane amount of time and money to train, and now it was all gone¡ªwasted. He knew he''d have to return to his capital, delaying his campaign once again to rebuild his forces from scratch.

    Among the debris, something caught his eye¡ªa body, half-burned still struggling to move. A flickering white gauntlet adorned its arm, and Cairo knew instantly who it was. ''So that¡¯s why it hasn¡¯t prompted me with a victory screen yet,'' he thought. Grolsch was still alive, barely hanging on.

    Cairo approached the orc leader, his eyes narrowing. ''This suicidal bastard,'' he thought. He''d seen the orcs do some crazy things, but this¡ªthis was new. As he unsheathed his jet-black sword, Cairo could feel the annoyance bubbling within him. He clicked to raise the blade, all that was left to let go and let the blade fall onto him.

    Suddenly, a sound made him pause¡ªa chuckle, low and guttural. It was definitely a sound byte, but one Cairo had never heard before. Orcs chuckled, sure, but this one was different. It sounded almost too real, filled with a kind of mocking satisfaction. He hesitated, his grip on the sword tightening. Grolsch, on the edge of death, looked up at him, his face twisted in pain.

    ''His expression is... changing?'' Cairo noted in shock. The only times he had seen dynamic expressions on the faces of the characters in game were when he had ascribed it to them in his head. He had never seen them move as fluidly as he did right now.

    The orc''s mouth moved, forming intense lines in his unusually detailed face and Cairo heard the faintest of snarls, words trying to form. "Q-Qahir...at-" Grolsch spat, his voice laced with venom and forced out through sheer rage before he finally fell limp.

    Cairo froze. "H-how did he..." His mind raced as he stood there, staring at the now deceased orc. It had to be a coincidence, or--he must have misheard. But two new sound-bytes in one day? The start of another unfamiliar female voice suddenly started from the game before the screen flashed intensely for just a moment, forcing Cairo to look away as the voice was suddenly cut off. Looking back at the screen, Cairo finally saw the victory screen overlay, seeing Grolsch''s face behind it suddenly back to his static deceased expression of two cartoonish x''s in place of his eyes.

    "Qahirat." Cairo said aloud. That word... how could he have-

    "HEY, DID YOU HEAR ME IN THERE? YOU CAN''T BE HERE ANYMORE ITS PAST 7!" A voice boomed from just outside the door of the piano room, interrupting his thoughts as he shot up, haphazardly packing his laptop into his bag before opening the door.

    "Y-yeah, sorry about that , I lost my sense of time." Cairo said, quickly slinking past the round-bellied security guard who''s angry expression seemed to intensify upon catching a glimpse of him.

    "Yeah, for the third time this week kid! Get the hell out of here." He bellowed as Cairo was already halfway towards the side exit of the school.

    Exiting the school, Cairo paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder to ensure the security officer hadn¡¯t followed him. Seeing no one there, he turned to leave, his mind still spinning with thoughts of the strange events in the game.

    As he stepped out into the open air, a strange sight stopped him in his tracks. The night sky above looked almost eerily similar to the one in Caldria. For a moment, he was certain of it¡ªa vast rift in a torrent of clouds that gave way to view a bright crescent moon on a purple and black canvas.

    But then, he blinked, and the illusion was gone. The familiar, dull night sky now taking its place. Instinctively, unusually, he frowned.

    ''Why?'' He wondered. There was nothing wrong with the sky, it was probably even more picturesque than usual. The brightness of the moon remained, even surrounded by a few dotted stars which, miraculously, had managed to pierce through the layer of pollution above him and fall into view.

    ''So why did it still look so mundane?'' Shifting his eyes back to the concrete below, he began his trek home.

 Chapter 2 - Reconaissance

    "..." I am currently feeling quite distressed as I look at the ''colleague'' sitting across me. While looking straight into my eyes, she puckers up her bottom lip in an expression of pity, and though I think she really should be saving some of that pity for her pug face, I must still deal with it soundly.

    "Yeah... it''s pretty bad I guess." I said quite forcefully while donning a weak smile. She looks towards me for a second more before turning away to talk to the girls beside her. *Phew* I heave a silent sigh of relief. To explain what just happened: I was violently interrogated by a colleague in class. Though minus the violently, and probably the interrogated too.

    Yes, ''I was by a colleague in class.'' We sat across from each other and I was asked whether I had a ''date'' for the dance, to which I obviously replied "Of course, I''ll be bringing my pet mango." As you do, though again, maybe minus everything after ''No''.

    Plus, I doubt Mangela would enjoy being around all those people anyways. Mangos don''t survive long in crowded ecosystems after all. Terrible jokes aside, I think I''m about ready to make a run for it if we''re not let out soon.

    "RRRRRRRRNG... RRRRRRRNG" The incredible, ear-shredding sound of the school bell finally echoed through the anticipant advisory classroom.

    I jolted up, pulling my bag out from under the seat I left wobbling behind me as I pulled my headphones up to my ears and made a beeline for the door.

    "Cairo, hey. It''s Annie, from a few days ago¡­ Do you have a second?"

    Before I could even reach the doorway, I was stopped by a muffled voice attached to a pair of optimistic green eyes staring holes into mine.

    "Crap."

    My face contorted as I remembered what Caroline had told me to do... well, about a week ago. I spared no effort trying to conceal the bothered look on my face as I saw the herd of people walking out the door before me.

    "Listen, I''m a little busy right now. But I''m sure someone else would be happy to help you." I said, beginning to make my way past her.

    "Yeah, that¡¯s what you said the last three times¡­¡± Annie''s shoulders stiffened slightly as she moved to plant herself in front of me again, she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear as if to appear more composed than she was. Her red sweater hung just loosely enough to reveal a white undershirt. Dark blue jeans drooped down to her ankles. Not exactly eye-catching attire, but it seemed strangely intentional. Like someone who wanted desperately to blend in without appearing too plain.

    ¡°Ms. Aspern said you¡¯re supposed to be the one showing me around so..." She said, her tone tightening ever so slightly. "Please, show me where the library is." Her words were steady, but there was a hesitation in her tone, as if she were carefully choosing every syllable.

    I winced at the idea as my face morphed further but her eyes remained locked on mine expectantly. "Fine." I replied. Expecting refuting her any longer would waste more time than it took to get the damn thing done. "And the homework center too, thank you." Stepping aside she gestured for me to lead the way. ''This little...'' I stop my thoughts before employing the use of a few choice words. Sighing mournfully, I took a moment to think of what to say before noticing the deadly stare coming at me from my home room teacher who seemed to have been listening in on our exchange. "Well, come on then." I said hastily, hurrying out the classroom door.

    I walked briskly towards the direction of the school library, not intending to waste any more time than I needed to. Annie followed behind me, but from the flustered look on her face she wasn¡¯t content with speedwalking to keep up. "Hey, can''t you slow down a bit?" she asked in a strained voice. Her hands darted to her sides, smoothing out her sweater as she shuffled behind me.

    "Huu." I slowed down, letting out a sigh along with as much of my impatience it could carry with it. She quickly caught up before I started again with a more ''reasonable'' pace.

    "Where is it you have to go so badly that you can''t help showing me the library?" Annie asked, her breathy words dragging out the question. "None of your business." I replied, as her face contorted into annoyance for the first time.

    "Asshole." She said a bit too loudly before seeming to recognize her stupor and tightening her lips suddenly. Her eyes shifted slowly to see my reaction, as if looking over too obviously would somehow guarantee that I heard her.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    "Yeah, I know." I responded curtly. "You know I don''t have to be the one to show you around, right? I know what Caroline said but I''m sure you¡¯ve met enough people by now who¡¯d jump at the opportunity to help a new female transfer student find her way around." I added, making sure to emphasize the word female.

    Annie took a second to give me a confused glance, seeming caught off-guard by my response. After a moment, she let out a forced cough. "Well, I didn''t want to bother anyone." She answered softly.

    "So ''anyone'' doesn''t include me?" I asked as her face tightened up. Wordlessly, she kept her gaze fixed on the hallway ahead of us.

    Finding my way to the library wasn''t exactly a difficult process. But, given it was on the opposite side of my two favorite places in the school: the side exit and the front exit, it wasn''t the most convenient detour. "Here you are." I said standing at the library entrance. "The homework center is behind the double doors in the back, so you don''t need to worry about me showing you where that is too." I stated happily, not bothering to hide the relief I got from that fact.

    Annie¡¯s gaze flicked between me and the library doors, her lips pressing together as she pulled at her sweater¡¯s sleeves once again. She kept adjusting her posture as her eyes surveyed the students around us, shifting her weight awkwardly as if she wanted to make sure she wasn''t seen standing improperly. "Well," Annie glanced back at me. "I do still need help finding the fine arts build-¡°

    Before she could finish her sentence, my headphones had somehow found their way over my ears. My legs, incredibly, had started a brisk pace towards the music wing all on their own! Recalling all the strangeness of that moment, it was hard to say whether the drowned-out voice of some girl following me from behind was real, or just another part of the strangeness. In any case, it wasn¡¯t long before it had disappeared entirely into the background noise of the school hallway.

    <hr>

    The clamor of loose strings and off-key notes echoed through the hallways of the music wing, the dissonant melodies a familiar prelude to Caroline¡¯s office. Nearing the open door, the cluttered orchestra muffled into silence as he crossed the threshold, broken only by the rhythmic clatter of a furious typing. Caroline sat at her desk, her focus held entirely by the computer screen before her. Busy enough to not notice him entirely.

    Lingering in the doorway, Cairo felt a pang of guilt about interrupting her. But after a moment of hesitation, he knocked with just enough extra force on the open door. The sound startled Caroline, her head snapping up as she blinked in surprise. "Oh, you¡¯re here!" she exclaimed, pushing her chair back before immediately going to rummage through the clutter in her desk. Cairo remained standing, his discomfort growing as she darted from drawer to cabinet.

    "Take your time," he offered, his voice carrying a mix of guilt and awkwardness.

    Caroline finally reappeared from under her desk, holding an extravagant bouquet of flowers wrapped in colorful cellophane. Cairo winced at the sight, but he held his tongue. He knew he wasn¡¯t in a position to complain.

    "Here you are, sir." she said with a slight bow of her head, walking over before thrusting the bouquet toward him. He hesitated before taking it, the overwhelming scent of the shrubbery already filling the small office. "Sorry, again, for making you-" Cairo started. "Nonsense." Caroline quickly cut him off. "Don''t forget, you''re doing this for the both of us."

    A sharp ding from her phone broke the moment. Caroline glanced at the screen, her brow furrowing slightly before her eyes darted back to Cairo. "You should get going now," she said abruptly, her tone shifting. "I''m going to have a very angry student coming in any second now."

    Cairo raised an eyebrow, unsure if he should ask for more details. Before he could speak, Caroline waved him off, shooing him toward the door. "Go on," she insisted, pausing only as he reached the doorway. "Oh, and make sure to say hi for me." Her voice echoed behind the door as it shut behind him.

    <hr>

    Caroline barely had a few minutes to get back to her work before the door to her office flew open once again, slamming against the wall. Annie stormed in, her face flushed with frustration. "Aunt Caroline!" she burst out, her voice rising above the residual music from the hallway. "T-That person you told me to ask for help! Or, no, person is too nice of a word to use on that weasel... Yeah, he''s more like a raccoon than a human, that guy. A slippery, selfish, raccoon-eyed weasel who dives headfirst into another pile of garbage before you have the chance to catch it, let alone pinning down that infuriating, trash-diving rat..."

    Caroline opened her mouth to greet her niece but quickly realized it was futile. Annie was already halfway through a torrent of complaints, her words tumbling over one another in a near-incoherent rush. "He ditched me¡ªagain!" she fumed. "I mean, sure, he says he''s busy or whatever, but does he have to be so rude? He isn''t even busy either, I bet. What the hell could that raccoon have to do besides stuff another mouthful of garbage into his mouth?" Annie was ceaseless in her tirade, making sporadic attempts to temper her words but in the end her anger always had the final say. "Not that I blame you for putting him in charge," she added hastily, "but seriously, Aunt Caroline, is there no one else!?"

    Caroline leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. She waited patiently for Annie to run out of steam, offering nothing more than a calm nod every now and then. Finally, Annie threw her hands up in exasperation. "Well?" she demanded. "Aren¡¯t you going to say something?"

    Caroline stood, retrieving her car keys from a hook near the door. "Come with me," she said simply.

    Annie blinked, her frustration giving way to confusion. "What? Where?"

    Caroline offered her a vague smile. "To do some... reconnaissance."

    Before Annie could ask for clarification, Caroline was already heading out the door. Bewildered, and still a little angry, Annie followed warily behind, struggling to hold back all the words she hadn''t said before.

 Chapter 3 - Empty

    Cairo stood before misshaped wrought-iron gates, his hand hesitating on the cool metal. The sharp chill of the air seemed to seep into his fingers, but it wasn¡¯t the cold that gave him pause. He stared at the gate, the weight of countless hesitations pressing down on him. He swallowed hard, his throat dry from the biting air. Closing his eyes, he pushed the gate open. The familiar creak echoed out into the silence, sharp and anticlimactic as he crossed to the other side.

    ...Nothing. He opened his eyes, seeing the same beaten path lined with freshly sprouting greenery, timid shoots clawing their way back to the surface to reclaim their space after a long winter. ''What did you think was going to happen?'' he questioned himself for a moment, chipped leaves and twigs crunched faintly beneath his feet as he began his trek forward, it was exactly as he remembered it.

    The cemetery stretched out in quiet monotony, rows of tombstones standing like mass-produced replicas, each gifted with patches of artificial grass masking the decrepit soil underneath. A single beaten path cut across the center of the graveyard, branching out into the many plots at its sides. At the path''s end, a solitary willow tree loomed, its curved stump causing it to appear as if it was gazing wearily over the empty fields.

    Cairo slowed his pace, his eyes falling on a modest tombstone nestled among its neighbors. The stone was unremarkable, the same rectangular patch of artificial grass adorned it as every grave around it. It was only the name engraved upon it which allowed him to tell it apart from the rest.

    Jillian Verni

    He pulled the plastic wrapped bouquet from his backpack, releasing vibrant colors that clashed with the muted tones of the cemetery. Without so much as a moment of hesitation, he plucked a single flower from the bunch before neatly placing the boquet at the base of the stone. He rose back up to see what change he had made. He didn''t know how to feel when he realized he did not. For a long moment, he stared at the gravestone, his face unreadable. It wasn''t right, the tombstone was for strangers --names and dates for people he''d never known.

    As usual, the questions rose in his mind like smoke from a dying fire¡ªsome he couldn''t answer, others he didn¡¯t want to. But they hardly mattered. Either way, she had abandoned him.

    He didn¡¯t say anything. There was no point in saying anything to place so... empty. Turning away, he followed the winding path deeper into the cemetery, the weight in his chest shifting with every step. Eventually, he reached the tree¡ªits tall, weathered form looming over the grounds. Its bare branches stretched out like skeletal fingers, casting long shadows on the ground.

    Cairo stopped and looked up at the tree. The memories it held felt more tangible than anything else here. He crouched again, placing the single remaining flower at the base of the tree before settling down beside it. Leaning his back against the rough bark, he let out a sigh, closing his eyes briefly.

    He tilted his head back, letting it rest against the tree. The bark pressed into his skull, its rough grooves biting through his coat, as if trying to devour the memories . It was always peaceful under the tree. Though it was an unfortunate coincidence that it happened to be in the middle of a cemetery. They¡¯d act the part mourning orphans, he remembered. Of course, having differing skin tones meant they needed to employ a bit of creativity to weave a convincing story. Jillian had always been quicker on the draw, weaving absurd tales about a "serial adulterer" father who had left them to fend for themselves. Cairo was quite a bit certain they''d be sent to hell for the sheer amount of desecration they''d commited. Tarnishing the reputation of the poor, innocent deceased who they''d decided they''d come to mourn that day.

    Though... "being orphans might have been better." He said aloud as a cool breeze swept across his face, pulling him back into the chill of the graveyard around him. He pulled his headphones over his ears, letting the faint hum of a familiar tune shield him from the ambience.

    Yet the wind refused to stop. It swept through the bare branches of the tree above, rustling the leaves like faint whispers. The cold stung his cheeks, but the silence pressed harder --more difficult to bear. Then, faintly, he heard a voice. At first, it was just a prodding murmur, but it grew louder, clearer, until he couldn¡¯t ignore it. His expression contorted in annoyance as the voice finally echoed clearly in his head. ¡°Hey, buddy, you alive under there? You didn¡¯t turn into a frozen corpse on me, did ya?¡±

    Cairo opened his eyes, irritation etched on his face as he glared up at the source of his displeasure. A girl with bright blue eyes stared back at him, her hands clasped in mock concern. The moment their gazes met, she gasped dramatically and fell backward into the snow. "Oh my god! I totally thought you¡¯d turned into a zombie just now. But that¡¯s just your face. Phew."

    Cairo stared at her, unamused. "I think a zombie would die of malnutrition trying to eat you. Or it¡¯d choke on your bones. Hard to say which would happen first."

    "Wow, you''re brutal." Jillian sat up, brushing snow off her jacket with an exaggerated pout. "But I¡¯m sure a zombie would accept any fate if it could eat a looker like me," she shot back, her tone exuding far too much confidence.

    Cairo frowned. "I really wonder whose sake you¡¯re arguing for right now."

    Suddenly, the left muff of his headphones slipped out of place with an audible click, drawing a smug laugh from Jillian. "See? You look so scary even he''s trying to run off." she quipped, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

    "Tch." He clicked his tongue, attempting to shove the piece back into its taped tube. "Please don''t personify my headphones to pretend anyone is agreeing with you." Cairo added, still struggling with the plastic as Jillian leaned forward, her scarf shifting as she watched him.

    "You should really just get new ones," she said, her voice slightly muffled by the purple fabric.

    "Wow, you''re turning on your new ally rather quick, aren''t you?" Cairo replied, the frustration in his tone betraying the attempted humor of his words. "Besides, I can''t." He added.

    "I know," Jillian said with a smirk, "Maybe eventually, though. Like, whenever they find a cure for being clinically broke."

    Cairo looked up at her with unamused eyes. Before he could retort, she snatched the headphones from his hands. "Here, let me try."

    In a sequence far too quick for him to make out, Jillian unwound the tangled mess of tape, maneuvering her hands deftly as they moved with surprising finesse. Before he knew it, Jillian was sporting a smug grin as she tossed the headphones back to him.

    Rather than being the crumpled disaster he expected, the tape was tied neatly, wrapped up diagonally around the headband perfectly taut. And, as if to mock him, she had even finished it by tying an unnecessary bow that sprung from its end.

    "What can I say? I''m an artist," Cairo looked back up to see Jillian who held up her hands as though framing a masterpiece. Her expression gave the illusion that she was trying to play off a thousand compliments at once. All of which had yet to leave his mouth and exist in this reality.

    "I don''t know what''s worse." he muttered. "That you''ve given my headphones bunny ears, or that you think you''ve won the nobel prize for doing it."Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    "I think your ungrateful attitude is the worst of all" Jillian quipped, stretching her arms overhead. "But I understand. It''s hard to be grateful in the midst of all that jealousy. Not everyone can be a tape-wrapping, bow-tying, general genius-level problem-solver." She said with exaggerated satisfaction.

    It was a ridiculous enough statement that Cairo had almost laughed. Almost. But then she winced, her arms dropped swiftly to her sides and now he''d noticed the way her face tensed as it happened.

    "You good?" He asked, his tone casual, though his eyes had sharpened on her.

    "Good? Of course, I''m fine. Don''t try to deflect now that I''m exposing you~" Her response was too drawn out, a clear attempt to cloak her movement with her voice as she turned to adjust her scarf that began to slip from her shoulders. But the movement had pulled the fabric just enough to reveal the source of her discomfort--an ugly blotch of darkened skin that stretched across her shoulder, disappearing under the collar of her coat.

    Cairo''s stomach twisted. "Hey," he said more firmly. "What happened to your shoulder?"

    Jillian froze mid-movement, like a rabbit caught in a snare. "Oh. That?" She voiced a brief, tight laugh, her fingers tugging the scarf back up her collar as if it would erase what he''d seen. "Nothing. Just... y''know, life being life."

    It wasn''t an answer. For a moment, Cairo thought about pressing her. About demanding an explanation. But he didn''t. Maybe it was simply because of the way she had suddenly fell quiet, her arms crossed loosely like she was trying to hold herself together. She wasn''t acting like herself. And so, he let it go.

    "Thanks." Jillian muttered suddenly as they were making their way back towards the gates of the cemetery. Cairo simply looked back at her, unsure what she was talking about.

    "For not digging." She replied, meeting his gaze with a look that was hard to read --grateful, maybe, or disappointed.

    "Yeah... well, just returning the favor." He replied curtly, turning back to the long path ahead of them.

    "Returning the favor?" She quizzed with what sounded like sincere puzzlement, before he turned to look at her again.

    "Ohhhh! You mean like, because I never ask about why you live alone in that haunted manor looking house? Or that the school doesn''t seem to give a shit that they''ve never seen your parents? What''s up with that by the way?" She asked, her tone sporting copious ignorance.

    "Oh, piss off." Cairo replied briefly, and Jillian laughed in response.

    "Besides, the school would have to figure out that Flynn doesn''t actually happen to have a dentist appointment the day of every departmental math exam before they catch onto me."

    He added as Jillian laughed again. "Touch¨¦."

    <hr>

    The hum of an engine filled the silence as Caroline and Annie sat parked along the cemetery¡¯s outer edge. Through the fogged windshield, Annie was able to see Cairo sitting slumped down against the old tree like he was trying to grow roots there, completely unaware of his audience.

    Annie¡¯s stared blankly ahead; her chin propped up on her palm. "So¡­ I¡¯m guessing he¡¯s some kind of criminal necrophiliac?"

    Caroline nearly choked on her coffee, spitting out a few drops onto her lap. ¡°What?¡± she sputtered, whipping her head toward Annie.

    "Well," Annie started, leaning back in her seat with a shrug. ¡°Since it seems like you¡¯re a little hesitant to explain exactly what¡¯s is going on here, I guess you¡¯re still gathering evidence. And, I mean, look at him. That creep is just laying in the middle of a cemetery like it¡¯s his bedroom. The signs are all there. I¡¯m ready to call the police the second we have enough dirt on the sicko. It¡¯s my civic duty, really.¡±

    Caroline groaned, smacking Annie over the head with a swift swing of her arm. "He¡¯s not a necrophiliac."

    "Ouch!¡± Annie winced, holding her head in pain as she retorted. ¡°How do you know? You don¡¯t know what¡¯s in his head. Nobody does.¡±

    "Annie," Caroline snapped, turning toward her niece with a sharp glare, "I know because he¡¯s visiting Jillian¡¯s grave."

    Annie blinked. ¡°...Jillian?¡± she repeated. Her sharp tone softened slightly, though her posture remained stubbornly casual.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Caroline said, her voice quieter now. She leaned back in the driver¡¯s seat, her eyes shifting to the boy in the distance. ¡°She was his friend. And¡­ one of my students. She passed two years ago.¡±

    For once, Annie didn¡¯t immediately fire off a joke. She crossed her arms, frowning slightly as she turned to look at Cairo again. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s... sad. I¡¯m sorry. But that still doesn¡¯t explain why we¡¯re sitting here like creepy stalkers watching him mourn.¡±

    ¡°Because,¡± Caroline said firmly, ¡°he needs something else to worry about. He spends too much time in his head. It¡¯s not good for him.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­?¡± Annie replied, raising an eyebrow. ¡°And you want to do¡­ what exactly? Come up with some elaborate ¡®Make Him Happy¡¯ scheme? Pretty sure you can¡¯t just fix people without their permission.¡±

    Caroline shot her a side-eyed glance. ¡°I couldn¡¯t care less about the ethics of doing nothing for him instead,¡± she said bluntly. ¡°He needs help, Annie.¡±

    Annie snorted, shaking her head. ¡°What about you then? If she was your student too, it¡¯s not like he¡¯s the only one who lost someone. Unless she was like his girlfriend or something.¡±

    ¡°Pshh, I wish.¡± Caroline scoffed, brushing the thought aside with a wave of her hand. Her gaze softened as it returned to Cairo. ¡°Jillian was the only person who could get through to him, but there wasn¡¯t anything between them¡ªthey were more like siblings. Even then, it took me months of forcing them together before he finally let his walls down.¡±

    She hesitated, her expression suddenly turning fiercer before continuing. ¡°Before Jillian, it was like he was living in a completely different world. He wasn¡¯t shy, not awkward¡ªjust¡­ disconnected. He could charm the hell out of anyone if he wanted to, trust me. But it was like he didn¡¯t even notice people existed, and he made damn sure that they didn¡¯t notice him either. Like he was a ghost walking right through them. And his eyes...¡± She trailed off, shaking her head. ¡°They were so empty. Like he wasn¡¯t really there, even when he was standing right in front of you.¡±

    Annie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. ¡°Okay¡­¡± She said dryly, unsure of how to deal with the sullen-faced woman beside her. ¡°So, he¡¯s always been a weirdo. Big whoop. Why are you telling me all this?¡± She finally said, her expression communicating both confusion and suspicion as she did so.

    ¡°When Jillian was around, he wasn¡¯t like that anymore. He wasn¡¯t¡ª¡± she hesitated, searching for the right word. ¡°He wasn¡¯t stuck. And I want to pull him out again.¡± She said finally, turning to look at Annie with expectant eyes.

    Annie rolled her eyes. ¡°Are you serious? So, what, you want me to be the new Jillian or something? That¡¯s weird as hell Aunt Caroline. And aren¡¯t you just using me at that point? I¡¯m not gonna be friends with someone like him out of pity!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not pity,¡± Caroline insisted. ¡°It¡¯s just trying it out. If it doesn¡¯t work out--it doesn¡¯t work out. It¡¯s not exactly like you¡¯re drowning in friends either, Annie.¡±

    Annie stiffened, her lips pressing into a thin line. Clearly Caroline¡¯s words had hit a weak spot. ¡°Tch. Whatever,¡± she muttered, turning her head toward the window to avoid Caroline¡¯s gaze.

    Satisfied, Caroline continued. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m not asking you to fake being his friend. I¡¯m just asking you to try. That¡¯s it. Be normal. Be yourself.¡±

    ¡°Be myself?¡± Annie asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°What does that even mean? You¡¯re acting like this is some kind of afterschool special when you¡¯re trying to ¡®Truman Show¡¯ your precious student you care so much about.¡±

    Caroline brought a hand to her chin, her eyes narrowing contemplatively. ¡°Hmm¡­ that¡¯s not a bad idea.¡±

    ¡°Oh my god,¡± Annie groaned, dragging her hands down her face. ¡°You¡¯re insane. Genuinely insane.¡±

    ¡°Stop being dramatic,¡± Caroline shot back.

    ¡°And you¡¯re creepy too!¡± Annie accused, jabbing a finger in her direction. ¡°What, did you adopt him or something? Why¡¯re you talking about him like he¡¯s your son? It¡¯s so weird, Aunt Caroline. He¡¯s your student. Ever heard of boundaries?¡±

    Caroline shrugged, entirely unfazed by Annie¡¯s accusation. ¡°I care about him. He¡¯s a good kid.¡±

    Annie leaned back, pleading with an exaggerated shudder. ¡°Ew, stop. Please, this is gross.¡±

    Before Caroline could respond, her eyes suddenly widened. She reached for the gear shift, her movements frantic.

    ¡°What-¡° Annie started, but the car lurched backward before she could continue. She yelped, her knees driving into the glove compartment as Caroline spun the wheel, reversing sharply and turning the car behind a large tree.

    ¡°Holy shit! Are you trying to kill us?¡± Annie yelled, gripping the armrest with both hands like her life depended on it.

    ¡°Shh!¡± Caroline hissed, turning the keys to silence the car¡¯s engine before slapping a hand over Annie¡¯s mouth. She nodded toward the window, her gaze locked on Cairo, who was walking toward the cemetery gates, completely oblivious to their presence.

    When Cairo finally disappeared down the street, Caroline let out a relieved sigh, pulling her hand away from Annie¡¯s mouth. Annie stared at her in disbelief.

    ¡°You¡¯re actually insane,¡± she repeated flatly. ¡°And I mean that in the medical diagnosis kind of way.¡±

    Caroline was unbothered as she started the car again. ¡°You¡¯ll thank me later.¡±

    ¡°For what? Whiplash?¡±

    ¡°For helping you finally make a friend,¡± Caroline said, her grin widening as she pulled back onto the road.

    Annie groaned, slumping in her seat. ¡°Asshole.¡±

 Chapter 4 - The king of golden sands

    The door lugged open with a dull creak as I pushed it open. My grasp on the cold doorknob loosened as the late-winter chill followed me inside, but somehow the interior of the house felt even colder. The kind of cold that wouldn¡¯t linger on my skin but instead sink straight into my chest. It wasn¡¯t just the temperature, but the silence too. Heavy and pressing, as if the house itself was mourning the emptiness inside.

    Of course, it was only empty in sensation. I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. The latch clicked back in place, echoing off the towering ceiling and empty hallways it cut off from the rest of the world. I didn¡¯t bother turning on the lights.

    The air smelled faintly of wood polish and something else that brought me a faint sense of nostalgia. Although I could never quite place what it was. It clung to everything the house¡ªit smelled¡­ old? That was the best way I could describe it.

    I walked past the hallway cutting straight through to the back of the house. Passing the basement door, the padlock glinted faintly from what little moonlight had spilled through the covered windows. Several rusted chains hung across the frame; having been there so long they¡¯d left scars on the door itself. I didn¡¯t stop to give it any more than a passing glance. It was just another part of the house.

    The thump of my footsteps beat audibly from the floorboard below as I passed the various ornaments and ¡®decorations¡¯ that adorned the hallway. Two stone statues of what looked to be guards of some kind stood at half the height of what they¡¯d be if they were real. Their form cut down to the torso and above, wielding spears fixed parallel to them at their side. A single oil painting hung above a gold-stained dressing table. Its frame was cracked, revealing the frayed edges of the canvas underneath. The painting itself was hardly something worth lingering on, it depicted nothing but a large, barren desert. Rolling waves of golden sand extending as far as you could see within the frame.

    It was the kind of furnishing you¡¯d see in a museum, not in a home. All of it looked expensive, or at least like it would have been if it was properly maintained. In the state it was right now, it simply looked abandoned.

    I ducked into the living room and let a long sigh escape my mouth. The couch was an ancient thing¡ªunevenly stuffed with padding and beckoning with two poorly carved wooden arms begging to give you splinters. Regardless, I collapsed into it, the springs groaning briefly under my weight.

    For a moment, I just listened to the silence. Usually, I¡¯d try to avoid being here, in my home, as much as possible. Killing as much time at school or just taking meaningless walks around the block. But, at the end of the day, there was nowhere else to go.

    When I opened my eyes, they landed on the mess of items sprawled across the living room floor. Old textbooks, wood shavings, a chipped ceramic figurine and, closest to me, an old vinyl record sleeve, the corner curling upward in a display indicative of its age.

    I reached for it without thinking, at this point the motion was nearly automatic. I couldn¡¯t make out the faded text printed on its face, but at this point I didn¡¯t care. With a sigh, I sat up, pulling the disc out of its sleeve and onto an old record player I briefly took the time to dust off. The brass horn was dull, dented in several areas, and still perfectly capable of doing its job.

    The needle clicked faintly as I lowered it into place. For a moment, there was only static. Then, the faint crackle of life before a melody began to seep into the room. A woman¡¯s voice sang, distant and lilting, like the muddied voice of a dream.

    It came back in pieces. A flash of reddish-brown hair, vivid and wild as it caught the light of the living room chandelier. The spin of a white skirt twirled too fast. The thump of bare jumping against the floorboards, spinning in rhythm. She was laughing. Not overbearingly loud, or quietly enough to arouse suspicion. Just softly enough to melt away your apprehension.

    Her face¡­ I could feel the memory slip the moment I tried to grasp ahold of it, running like sand through my fingers. It was too blurry, shapes and colors serving only as outlines to a vital missing piece. I shifted uncomfortable on the couch, suddenly aware of the chill in the room I had briefly left behind.

    Two in one day was a bit ambitious, even for me. I let out a short laugh, brittle and dry, before leaning forward to lift the needle of the record player. The song ceased with a soft click. I paused briefly before looking out the sliding glass window, the moonlight gleamed through the glass along with a breeze as I slid open the door. A brief rustle sounded from the greenery as it shivered in the evening gust, and I dropped to the ground. Taking a moment to feel the cold wash over my thoughts.

    <hr>

    The bushes rustled faintly as Annie brushed against them, shifting uncomfortably as she swatted stray leaves from her jeans. She glanced sideways at Caroline who crouched beside her with all the enthusiasm of a child playing hide and seek.

    ¡°You¡¯re really insane for this, you know!?¡± Annie whisper-shouted, trying to keep her voice still low.

    Caroline¡¯s eyes hardly, remaining steadfast on the sliding glass door ahead of them as she responded. ¡°What ¡®s with the change of heart? I thought you wanted to investigate him?¡± She replied, her tone light and teasing.

    ¡°Not when it gets all messed up and personal and INSANE like this!¡± Annie hissed back, doing a poor job of keeping her retort stealthy. She stared at Caroline like she¡¯d grown another head. ¡°We¡¯re hiding in a bush in the backyard of some guy¡¯s goddamn Dracula house! What the hell are you thinking? Have you never seen a horror movie before!? What the hell are we even doing here?¡±

    ¡°Just wait.¡± Caroline said calmly, still barely sparing Annie a glance. Her tone carried the same kind of slightly annoyed patience a mother might have as her child loudly begged her for candy in the middle of a crowded grocery store. It only served to infuriate Annie more.

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m saying we shouldn¡¯t be doing Aunt Caroline!¡± Annie shot back, her voice getting a little too loud before she caught herself and lowered it again. ¡°We¡¯re literally watching him from a bush in his backyard. Like creepy stalkers. You do realize that, right?¡±

    As if on cue, Cairo appeared, opening the sliding glass door before staring out in their direction. Annie froze, panic flaring up in her chest. ¡°Oh my god, he saw us,¡± She stressed to Caroline in another whisper as she tugged at her sleeve. ¡°Oh, calm down, he didn¡¯t see us.¡± Caroline didn¡¯t budge.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    Annie heard her heart thump in her chest as she reluctantly peeked back through the leaves, seeing Cairo now lying on the floor. ¡°Okay, this is the worst thing I¡¯ve ever done,¡± she muttered, though Caroline still hardly seemed concerned.

    ¡°Relax,¡± Caroline said, finally turning to meet Annie¡¯s gaze before turning it back to the house again. ¡°It¡¯s about to start.¡±

    Annie gave her a squinted look of complete bewilderment and skepticism, but Caroline didn¡¯t seem to want to spend another moment on her, her eyes glued to the scene ahead. Annie¡¯s attention was drawn back to the house as she saw Cairo cross the room they peered into, stopping by what looked like a large lump. He hesitated for a moment before pulling at the object, revealing the lump to be an ancient-looking grand piano that was merely covered by a large tarp. Though she was sure it was worn down from its age, from the distance at which they saw it simply looked inordinately expensive. Regal, even.

    ¡°Whoa¡­¡± Annie murmured, despite herself. ¡°How old is that thing¡­?¡±

    Caroline didn¡¯t answer. Her focus was entirely fixed on Cairo, who had seated himself on the bench at the foot of the piano. He sat there for a moment, hovering his fingers above the keys as if he wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to touch them. Then, finally, he began to play.

    The first notes rang through the open air, soft and firm. Each chord carried a wistful tone which echoed through her head. The sound of the piano was almost impossibly clear, as if drifting straight to her ears.

    Cairo¡¯s lips twitched, opening for a moment before sealing shut again. His hesitation was evident when a low voice finally rose from his throat a few moments later.

    He was the king of the golden sands

    His voice was unpolished, wavering slightly, but sapped in something more akin to exhaustion than hesitance. Annie leaned forward unconsciously.

    The sun his crown, his throne the land.

    He had conquered it all

    He was the king of every man

    His word, their fate, their lives in his hand

    He¡¯d paused for a moment, each note lingering just a second too long before he spoke again, his voice low and flat.

    He was sick of it all

    Annie seemed to wince involuntarily, though her eyes and ears remained focused in a trance on the performance. The tempo had sped up considerably, the notes seeming to jump over one another in exponential succession.

    He wandered far past the golden hills

    And found the lash of a goddess, spilled

    A thread, so thin, of light, divine

    Forgotten, brittle, and lost to time.

    Grasped in his hand, he¡¯d heard it laugh

    But it was him, who¡¯d cried like a lost little calf

    He¡¯d die far from home, where the dunes only killed

    With nothing to show for the nothing he¡¯d built

    For a long few moments, the lyrics had ceased. Leaving the notes to take off on their own in an enchanting symphony. Annie was almost disappointed when it had slowed down once again, beckoning the end.

    And as it slipped from his tired hand,

    He saw it vanish into the sand,

    The earth, then did open, its mouth agape

    To swallow the king in its earthen drape

    He fell, as the sand, headfirst, bound down

    When upon his skull was engraved a crown

    Annie¡¯s voice seemed to catch in her throat as the final notes of the piano faded into silence. The song was like a lullaby, pulling her far off into the night sky before disappearing, heartlessly leaving her to fall back down on her own. It was enough for her to completely ignore Caroline¡¯s nagging voice.

    ¡°Pretty good, huh?¡± Annie didn¡¯t give Caroline so much as a glance to affirm she¡¯d heard her words, her eyes still staring holes through the greenery. Caroline simply smiled as her gaze lingered on the entranced expression of her niece. Allowing her a minute before deciding to snap her out of it.

    ¡°Alright, you creepy little stalker, enough is enough. It¡¯s time to go home.¡± Caroline snapped her finger loudly just beside Annie¡¯s ear, causing her to flinch before turning to Caroline with a dazed expression that quickly turned to embarrassment. ¡°W-what. Shutup! You¡¯re the stalker! You¡¯re the one who dragged me here in the first place!¡± Annie retorted quickly.

    ¡°Sure¡­ but you¡¯re the one enjoying it.¡± Caroline replied, smiling widely at her niece whose expression contorted further, at a loss for words.

    ¡°Sh¡­¡± Annie¡¯s began to slowly hiss, her cheeks flushing red, appearing as if steam would soon spray out of her ears. Caroline¡¯s smile quickly faded, her eyes widening in horror as she realized what was to come.

    ¡°W-wait, Annie. I was just jok-¡° Caroline began, although it was too late.

    ¡°SHUT UPPPPPP¡± Annie screamed, the sound piercing Caroline¡¯s eardrums like dozens of tiny spears.

    The slick rumble of the sliding glass door creaking open sounded from the house as both women suddenly froze.

    Cairo¡¯s voice echoed into the backyard, loud and alert. ¡°Who the hell¡¯s there?¡±

    Not wasting a moment, Caroline grabbed Annie¡¯s arm. ¡°Run¡± she said as Annie¡¯s eyes widened in panic.

    ¡°RUN!¡± She repeated as the pair scrambled out of the bushes, stepping over roots and branches noisily as they bolted out towards Caroline¡¯s silver van parked outside on the corner of the dim street. Annie felt as though her heart was about to leap from her chest, nearly tripping twice before they¡¯d finally reached the car. Caroline practically threw herself into the driver¡¯s seat while Annie dove into the back. It wasn¡¯t long before the roar of the engine propelled the two far down the road ahead, speeding the vehicle miles away from the scene of the crime.

    Caroline finally made a stop on a street far enough away to guarantee their safety, leaving nothing but the sound of the pair¡¯s heavy breathing and the roar of the engine. Then, Caroline suddenly burst into laughter.

    ¡°And who was it that said that I wasn¡¯t fun!?¡± She asked rhetorically, her piercing voice fueled by adrenaline as her face gleamed with sweat. Annie¡¯s face contorted in confusion, looking at her aunt like she was a psych ward patient.

    ¡°Fun!? I¡¯m pretty sure what I called you was insane and that seems to be exactly the case from whatever the hell it was you just had us do!¡± Annie retorted in frustration, equally fueled by the adrenaline of their situation.

    Caroline paused her laughter, looking back towards Annie with a stoic expression before another grin slowly began to grow on her face, inevitably causing her to erupt in laughter once again as Annie, too, was unable to stop the inexplicable smile that grew on her face. ¡°W-what the hell is wrong with you!?¡± Annie attempted to retain her accusatory attitude, though it was undermined by the short bursts of chuckling that permeated her words. ¡°You really are insane! That was so fucked up.¡± She finally managed to get out in a tone that was unable to be completely serious, trying to quell the smile that never quite left her face.

    ¡°Maybe. But that just means you are too.¡± Caroline finally said with a grin.

    Annie opened her mouth again to argue but stopped as a giggle escaped her lips. She clamped a hand over her mouth, looking up to see Caroline¡¯s unimpeded reaction as she erupted in laughter, this time over her niece. Annie kept her hand steady to her mouth, but it was no use. Soon, the two of them were both filling the car with their unabated laughter.

    As the laughter finally faded a few moments later, Caroline glanced at Annie again, her expression softening slightly. ¡°Y¡¯know, I¡¯m not saying that you have to do anything you don¡¯t want to. Just¡­ try talking to him sometimes. That¡¯s all. It¡¯s still your choice¡±

    Annie looked back at her, a slight frown growing on her face before she turned back to look out the window at the trees that lined the road, their branches swaying gently in the wind. She didn¡¯t respond.

    Caroline¡¯s voice lowered slightly before she added. ¡°Isn¡¯t that why you came here in the first place? So, it wouldn¡¯t be the same as¡­ well, before.¡± Her words slowed.

    Annie winced, her fingers suddenly tensing on her leg at Caroline¡¯s words. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t really want to talk about that.¡± She said, her reflection pale and still against the glass while her voice was colder than the winter air outside.

    ¡°Okay.¡± Caroline hesitated before replying with a nod. The car had fallen into silence, the laughter from earlier seeming as though a forgotten dream as the engine roared to life once more. And without another word between them, the pair drove off into the night.

 Chapter 5 - Anniexiety

    The repeated scratch of pencil on paper filled the room, the sounds melting together as a faint buzz that hardly registered in Annie¡¯s ears. She kept her head glued to her own worksheet in front of her, her eyes refusing to dare drift upward even as the monotonous tension was broken by the amused voice of her calculus teacher.

    ¡°Would you look at that. I¡¯m officially out of work for you guys today.¡± He said with a theatrical level of surprise coating his voice. ¡°You¡¯ve got from whenever you finish that worksheet until the end of class to do whatever you want¡ªwithin reason.¡± He paused before adding, drawing a few laughs from the audience of students who were quick to turn their attention away from him.

    The squeak of shifting chairs and idle chatter replaced the previous ambience upon the news of their freedom. Annie¡¯s grip tightened on her pencil. Free time was the worst. Nothing to do¡ªnothing upon which to anchor her attention, no excuse to stay quiet. She raised her gaze briefly, eyeing the three girls at her table, all of whom immediately leaned in for a conversation at Mr. Bellis¡¯ words as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Annie kept her eyes glued to the worksheet ahead of her, scanning over the questions she had long since answered. She pretended to review the pages even as they blurred before her.

    As the chatter continued around her, she decided to pack away the paper like the others, fearing it had been too long to remain natural. Stowing away her folder into her bag, she kept her gaze down, pretending to inspect her hands. Her wrist itched where the loose fabric of her sweater rubbed against it. She scratched at it, feeling it drag against her skin as her sweater was pulled out of shape. She quickly tugged her sleeve back down, the motion feeling awkward as she did so. What if someone saw and thought she looked weird? Her fingers froze, returning down to her sides as she eyed her surroundings once more.

    The noises around her grew sharper, chairs scraping rough against the tiled flooring, conversations overlapping as shrill laughter erupted in short bursts. The air felt heavy on her chest, her silence feeling more and more noticeable in the midst of the noise. Her gaze drifted back down once more, fixing on the frayed edge of her red sweater. They could be staring at her right now, thinking she was weird for being so silent.

    Her pulse quickened, but she still didn¡¯t dare lift her head to check. It was as if an invisible force kept it down, resisting the urge to take any kind of action.

    A voice cut through the fog of her thoughts, a tone and inflection that registered in her mind as a question, jolting her upright as if the weight was never there.  Her head snapped upward. Across from her sat a girl¡ªshort in posture, boasting long, black curls of hair which sprung from a showy purple bow. She was staring straight at her, the shadow of a smirk curling the corners of her lips. Annie¡¯s stomach dropped.

    ¡°Sorry, what?¡± The words drifted gently from her mouth. Her voice coming out far softer than she intended, quiet enough to surprise even her, barely audible over the chatter that filled the room.

    The girl leaned back in her chair, her smirk coming to fruition as she spoke. ¡°I said, just wondering when you¡¯re gonna stop silently judging us and say something, new girl.¡±

    The other girls giggled loudly, the eruption of laughter crashing over Annie as her chest tightened. Each beat of her heart seemed louder than the last as their laughter seemed to be directed straight towards her.

    The bow-haired girl¡¯s gaze lingered, her eyes narrowing in on Annie before she spoke again. ¡°Love the shitty Christmas sweater, by the way,¡± her voice dripped with playful sarcasm. ¡°My grandma got me the totally same thing. But I¡¯m nowhere near brave enough to actually wear it.¡±

    The laughter came again, somehow even louder this time. As the laughter slowly faded, it gave way to silence, heavy and awkward. Annie¡¯s hands automatically gripped chunks of her thigh as heat rushed into her cheeks. She wanted to respond, to say something. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt thick. She vividly felt the thick saliva coating her throat, holding down the words she couldn¡¯t find to respond.

    She felt her hair slip forward, a lock of hair falling over her right eye. And though she desperately wished to push it back into place, she simply couldn¡¯t move. Her arms felt frozen at her sides.  ¡®What the hell is wrong with you?¡¯ The thought failed to dispel Annie¡¯s immobility.

    The bell rang.

    The sudden alarm was abrupt, surprising, and sounded like heaven to Annie, breaking through the heavy air to provide her with a lifeline. Chairs screeched back to life as students stood to gather their things. The girls at the table quickly moved to follow the rest. Annie moved on autopilot, fumbling for the strap of her bag as her body loosened up once again. She quickly zipped her bag shut before turning to stand from her seat.

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    She flinched at the voice, her gaze floating upward to catch the bow-haired girl who stood beside her desk, looking down at her with an expression Annie was too jarred to place.

    ¡°Don¡¯t take it so seriously,¡± the girl said, her tone light yet laced in what Annie perceived as a heavy sarcasm. ¡°It was just a joke.¡±

    She didn¡¯t smile, speaking in a flat tone. For a moment, the girl¡¯s face blurred in Annie¡¯s vision, giving way to another one imposed over it¡ªblue eyes flashing with cold amusement and lips curled in a chilling sneer. Annie¡¯s chest tightened, memories of anxiety cutting up her stomach and her moistening eyes coming to her in brief flashes. But when she blinked, the image was gone. Leaving only the bow-haired girl looking down at her.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Annie answered flatly with a smile, choking out the word before the girl turned to leave, her gaze lingering a moment too long before doing so.

    Annie sat still for a moment, staring blankly at the door as students from the next period slowly made their way inside. Her hands had yet to relinquish their grip of her jeans; her knuckles ached from the strain. She let out a shaky breath as she muttered.

    ¡°What the hell is wrong with you¡­?¡±

    The school hallways were a moving swarm of bodies and overlapping voices. Annie kept her hands strung tight around the straps of her bag; her gaze pointed downward. Each step choreographed, deliberate¡ªavoiding the off-chance she¡¯d bump into someone like it¡¯d kill her if it did. She made as little noise as possible, though it¡¯d hardly make a difference in the abhorrently loud cacophony of sounds around her. She walked while hugging the walls, her shoulders hunched forward in a subconscious attempt to make herself smaller.

    Snippets of conversation rushed past her ears as she moved, fragments of jokes and gossip she was unable to stop her brain from processing.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°¡­she actually said yes¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­That¡¯s why I frickin¡¯ hate group projects man¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­Jesus, that sweater¡ª¡±

    Her head snapped up as her chest tightened, her gaze fixing on the source of the voice. Two girls held their hands up to their lips, as if to stifle a laugh. Their gazes, however, were fixed tightly on the screen of a phone one of them held while the pair giggled.

    She quickly returned her gaze to the hall ahead of her, quickening her pace as her eyes darted nervously ahead. A brief glance to her left caught the gaze of someone headed in the opposite direction for a moment too long. Her heart leapt into her throat, tearing her eyes away before silently reprimanding herself.

    It was a long few minutes before she finally reached the door to Caroline¡¯s office. Her hand shot out ahead of her to twist the knob before she quickly ducked to the other side. Shutting the door firmly behind her, she took a long shaky breath of relief with her eyes locked shut as she slumped against the door.

    The relief didn¡¯t last long¡ªthe memory of her frozen silence in class just a few minutes earlier surging to the forefront of her mind. Her stomach twisted as she cringed internally. She nearly punched the air around her in an attempt to fight off the memory.

    ¡°UGHH¡± She was unable to stop herself from letting out a low, guttural grown as the memory replayed in her mind. She reeled from the mental anguish it brought her.

    ¡°I¡¯m impressed with your passion for that door, but please, keep a cork in it while you have an audience.¡±

    Annie¡¯s eyes shot open, and she straightened up almost immediately. Across the room, her gaze found Cairo sitting lazily on an office chair. Out of place for where it was located just behind the large, black grand piano.

    ¡°What¡­ what are you-¡°

    ¡°And what the hell are you doing here, by the way?¡± He cut her wavering voice off too easily, his voice flat and absent. He didn¡¯t bother to lift his gaze from the sheet music he studied. His dark hoodie and sweatpants caused him to nearly blend into the polished black of the grand piano in front of him. His foot tapped idly against the pedal of the piano as he spoke.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Annie started in anger before hesitating. Her chest suddenly filled with a mix of apprehension and fear as she remembered what Caroline and her had done last week. Though she was sure he hadn¡¯t recognized her, she couldn¡¯t shake the fear that somehow, he knew.

    There was a long period of silence before Cairo finally lifted his gaze to look at Annie. If it wasn¡¯t for the warm glow of the tungsten lights overhead, Annie might have believed his eyes were totally pitch-black. It was only the soft reflection of the orange hue that revealed the obscure brown accent of his iris¡¯.

    ¡°Oh, I get it.¡± He said suddenly in the same flat tone. ¡°You¡¯re worried that I know.¡±

    Annie¡¯s pulse spiked as Cairo¡¯s words seemed to pierce right to the heart of her worries.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he continued. ¡°Though I definitely don¡¯t understand it¡ªlove comes in many forms, I won¡¯t tell anyone. It¡¯ll no doubt be tough for you two, especially given that he¡¯s right out in the hallway like that, but if you sneak in after hours, it¡¯s not impossible.¡±

    Annie blinked, confused. ¡°What¡­?¡± She squinted her eyes.

    Cairo simply gestured towards the door behind her. Annie moved forwards, turning to look for a moment at the door before returning her gaze back to Cairo who no longer bothered to look back. She was torn between relief and irritation.

    Suddenly, the groom-to-be swung open with a sharp squeak of its hinges. Annie stumbled forward as Caroline swept into the room in a swift gait. The cheerful white of her Christmas sweater shot past Annie in a blur, its red and green accents standing out against the muted tones of the hardwood floor and beige walls. Stopping only once she¡¯d reached her desk, Caroline dropped a large folder bundling what must have been hundreds of papers onto her desk along with a dramatic sigh. The mug at its side wobbled precariously, oozing a drop of the dark brown liquid over the rim and onto the wood below.

    Caroline voiced her complaints over something related to her workload as she continued to unpack the contents of her purse onto her desk. Annie couldn¡¯t help but glance at the mug that was splattered with bright, messy colors. It resembled a kindergartner¡¯s art project, though Annie was acutely aware that Caroline had made it herself.

    ¡°Alright!¡± Caroline suddenly said with all the volume of a joyous elf. She seemed to finally be done arranging her desk.

    ¡°Annie, dear. Please make your way over here.¡± She called out suddenly, beckoning Annie towards her.

    As Annie maneuvered her way awkwardly towards Caroline, Cairo watched the interaction with confusion, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown.

    ¡°Dear¡­?¡± Cairo muttered to himself before seeming to have come to an epiphany as his expression stretched in shock. ¡°Oh my god, Caroline¡­¡± He started, the shock only growing comically on his expression as he spoke. ¡°Is she¡­ your kid? Did you¡­ finally get married?¡± He asked, and Caroline seemed to wince at his words.

    ¡°Caroline Aspern, the most notorious single I know¡­. Got married?¡± Cairo muttered to himself loud enough for the two girls to hear, clearly doing so on purpose. Annie felt Caroline¡¯s grip over her shoulders tense as he did so.

    ¡°No no no, that¡¯s not possible.¡± Cairo muttered again, bringing his hand to his chin as if he was pondering deeply on the revelation. It seemed he had no intention to retire his shocked expression anytime soon. ¡°And right on the cusp of thirty years old¡­¡± Cairo glanced at Annie ¡°No, she¡¯s too old for that. It must¡¯ve happened a while ago. A love child or something¡­ The father must have taken her and left all that time ago¡ªI mean, not that I blame him¡­¡±

    ¡°Cay¡­¡± Caroline interrupted his incessant mumbling, wearing a plastered smile that seemed to be holding back the end of the world. ¡°Yeah?¡± He replied, gazing up at her with an expression that looked like one wrong word from stretching into the smile he was holding back. ¡°It¡¯s Ms. Aspern¡­ Not. Caroline.¡± She spoke coldly.

    ¡°And it seems I never got around to introducing you two properly. Silly me!¡± Caroline said, her voice changing rapidly enough to make her previous words seem like a dream. ¡°Annie, this is Cay. My student and star pianist.¡± Caroline began as Cairo¡¯s eyes homed in on Annie in anticipation. ¡°And Cay, this is Annie. My¡­ Niece¡­¡± She spoke the words slowly, her eyes imperceptibly narrowing in on Cairo to gauge his reaction.

    It didn¡¯t disappoint, his face contorting in fear as he realized the two were actually related.

    ¡°And Cay,¡± She continued, her tone sweet but barely concealing the malice underneath. ¡°I believe you were supposed to have shown her around the school?¡± Her eyes curved into crescents, but they were too sharp.

    *Ahem* Cairo coughed dryly after a moment of silence. ¡°Yeah, about that¡­¡± His eyes darted away, avoiding Caroline¡¯s piercing gaze as he laughed nervously. He didn¡¯t dare to try and explain as his eyes drifted toward Annie who heartlessly averted her own.

    Cairo seemed to curse under his breath, the words directed at himself more than anyone else as he straightened his relaxed posture under Caroline¡¯s glare.

    Annie couldn¡¯t hold back a thin smile that pulled at her face. She almost couldn¡¯t believe it as she found herself in the first ever moment she had been truly glad to have Caroline as her aunt. Of course, that was only until Caroline opened her mouth to speak again.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Caroline cut Annie¡¯s celebration short as she spoke to Cairo. ¡°There¡¯s a simple solution to this problem. You¡¯ll just have to give her the full tour of the entire school!¡± Caroline announced with gusto.

    Both Annie and Cairo¡¯s faces contorted in what was visible panic and annoyance respectively. ¡°What!?¡± The pair shouted in unison, turning to share a brief awkward glance before Annie quickly turned away from Cairo¡¯s gaze.

    ¡°But that¡¯d take forever Caro- I mean, Ms. Aspern.¡± Cairo groaned, correcting himself immediately in an attempt to be as polite as possible. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m very serious,¡± Caroline¡¯s retort came quickly, her tone remaining infuriatingly cheery. ¡°Though if you don¡¯t feel comfortable doing it right now, it¡¯s nothing a week of practice on freshman guidance duty won¡¯t fix!¡±

    Cairo winced, muttering something else under his breath as he seemed to contemplate his options. It wasn¡¯t long before he relented, slumping back into his chair with a blank look in his eyes. ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°Aunt Caroline!¡± Annie whisper-shouted to get her attention before continuing. ¡°It¡¯s really fine! In fact, I don¡¯t even want him to-¡± She was silenced promptly by a stern gaze from Caroline. As she opened her mouth to voice her objection once more, Caroline¡¯s gaze only sharpened.

    ¡°My choice, my ass,¡± Annie muttered under her breath, crossing her arms as she made out an irritated glance coming at her from Cairo¡¯s direction.

    ¡°Excellent!¡± Caroline clapped her hands together, the bright smile returning to her face. ¡°Now, run along, you two. I have so much work to do today.¡±

    Annie sighed mournfully, seeing Cairo had hardly dragged himself halfway out of his seat. It was going to be a long day.

 Chapter 6 - Smoke

    Flynn slouched lazily against the cool surface of the concrete wall behind him. He could feel the pockets of space where the wall was thinner against his back. The scars of shaved graffiti no doubt. It was common practice for at least one group of seniors to leave their mark on the back wall of the cafeteria building, though the school never let it stay for long. Staring blankly at the football field in the distance, smoke coiled up into the air and obscured his view of the green plain ahead. It twisted slowly into shapeless forms, tiny clouds of gray forming for brief seconds before the wind came to sweep them away. His heated eyes followed the trail they left behind as they surrendered themselves to the breeze.

    No direction, no destination. Just¡­ ¡°whatever happens¡­ happens.¡± Flynn muttered aloud. He exhaled slowly, watching a new cloud join the others above. He heard a tiny voice in his say that he felt the same way. Though that might have been the weed talking.

    ¡°You know Pinocchio¡­ right?¡± A raspy, slow voice drifted from beside him. Flynn squinted, turning to look at the tall, lanky figure beside him. Shane¡¯s shaggy, dirty-blonde hair hung over his blood-shot eyes like curtains over a fire. A light orange peach fuzz clung stubbornly to his chin like a spreading fungus, though he was optimistic it might one day grow into a flush beard.

    ¡°Like¡­ the puppet? The one the school play was about?¡± Flynn asked, dragging his words slightly as he took his time handing the lit blunt back over to Shane.

    ¡°Yeah, I saw it¡­¡± Shane said, nodding as he brought the live roll to his tongue. ¡°You know how his nose grows whenever he, like, lies or whatever¡­ right?¡± He continued after a long pause, a thick cloud filling the air between the two as he did so.

    ¡°¡­Yeah?¡± Flynn blinked, bracing himself for the nonsense that was sure to follow.

    ¡°What if he just said, like, ¡®My nose is going to grow now¡¯?¡±

    Flynn stared back at him, not immediately responding to his friend¡¯s dire conundrum. He awed at how he didn¡¯t so much as flinch even as he asked the stupidest questions in the world. He thought he¡¯d grown too used to it to be surprised at this point.

    ¡°If he was lying, it¡¯d grow. But if it grew¡­ that means he wasn¡¯t even lying in the first place¡­¡± Shane was quick to explain the vital context of the situation. ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ a parallax or something.¡± He finished, his eyebrows knitting together as if he were putting great effort into unraveling this mystery.

    ¡°A¡­parallax? You mean a paradox?¡± Flynn raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Yeah, that.¡± Shane quickly nodded. ¡°So, what do you think would happen?¡±

    ¡°Hm¡­¡± Flynn turned to stare back out at the field of green in front of them. He took a long breath before finally replying. ¡°The universe would probably just¡­ explode at that point, right?¡± He said flatly.

    ¡°Mm,¡± Shane hummed in agreement, nodding solemnly as if the pair had solved a great philosophical puzzle.

    Abruptly, the loud smack of a hand against concrete shattered the peace as a booming voice blared from beside the pair. ¡°HEY! WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING HERE!?¡±

    Shooting up like a startled cat, Flynn felt immediately sobered up, turning quickly towards Shane who still held the blunt in his hands. Panic visibly flashed across his face, and he made the immediate decision to dispose of the evidence, tossing the roll¡­ directly towards the source of the noise. Flynn pondered if he had enough time to strangle Shane with his bare hands before the two got caught as he watched the blunt leave an arc of smoke in the air before falling limply at the feet of the intruder.

    ¡°Oh my god, you two look like you¡¯re about to piss yourselves!¡± An eruption of laughter pulled Flynn¡¯s gaze up to a brawny, blonde figure whose grin stretched across his face like he¡¯d just won the lottery. Bending over to pick up the still-smoking blunt, Elliot looked up at Shane with a smirk. ¡°What was the plan here, Shane? Throw it at me and hope it blends in with the concrete? Like a hidden in plain sight kind of thing?¡±

    Flynn felt the tension leave his body as he heaved a sigh of relief. Though irritation was quick to replace it as he looked over to Shane who seemed to be going through the same shift in emotions.

    ¡°Relax, potheads. You¡¯ll live to smoke another day.¡± Elliot laughed again, though the tone felt more mocking than humorous. Despite being equally culpable, Flynn couldn¡¯t help but feel bitter at being lumped in with the stoner beside him.

    Elliot Aneles, the golden boy of their school. Captain of the basketball team, straight-A student, and of course: the son of the guy who practically owned the place. Although ¡®asshole¡¯ was something Flynn felt the need to add to the top of that list, Elliot had done too much for him to complain about a little harassment every now and then. His short, pale-blonde hair was slicked back perfectly over his ears. Accompanied by his light blue eyes that were bright enough to seem artificial, Flynn often wondered if someone had concocted him in a lab somewhere instead of him being born to an actual human being.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Before Flynn could respond, an equally brawny figure appeared from behind Elliot before bursting into laughter in an almost manufactured way. ¡°JESUS, you guys looked baked! There¡¯s no way in HELL anyone ain¡¯t gonna notice.¡± Brandon, another member of the basketball team, chimed in. He quickly jabbed a finger towards Shane.

    ¡°You might be able to get away with it if you keep your head up, streetlight.¡± He said, gazing exaggerated up at Shane¡¯s tall stature. His gaze then quickly flicked over to Flynn. ¡°But you, short stack? Not a chance.¡± He chuckled as he looked down at Flynn. ¡°You look like a little baked Chihuahua.¡±

    As he chuckled, Brandon sent a subtle, almost imperceptible glance towards Elliot, like he was a puppy seeking approval for his joke. Flynn was ticked off. ¡°Big words for someone built like a decommissioned vending machine. Should I toss you some quarters to help you slim down a bit?¡± he asked, his voice dripping in sarcasm. ¡°And what¡¯s with that goatee? Maybe you should practice some hygiene and wash your mouth after eating out sasquatch.¡±

    Brandon¡¯s hand unconsciously reached for the patch of stray hairs growing around his mouth, but he quickly pulled it away before his face turned red, his fists clenching as he took a step forward. ¡°What the hell did you just say?¡±

    ¡°You still think it¡¯ll grow out man?¡± Flynn asked mockingly. ¡°It¡¯s been a whole year. And from the looks of it, you still haven¡¯t skipped a meal.¡± he added, tracing a circle around his mouth as he looked at Brandon.

    Brandon¡¯s face tensed. Elliot, however, burst out laughing. ¡°Yeah, you don¡¯t wanna get verbal with this guy,¡± he said, smirking as he patted Brandon¡¯s shoulder a few times. Brandon¡¯s expression loosened, backing off pathetically as soon as Elliot chimed in. Flynn felt a rising pride at Elliot¡¯s words.

    Emboldened, he added, ¡°Yeah, careful. Any more barking and Elliot won¡¯t give you your treats.¡±

    Brandon¡¯s eyes narrowed in dangerously on Flynn but before he could say anything, Elliot¡¯s spoke. ¡°Alright, Shakespeare, maybe it¡¯s time to cool it.¡± The plastered smile on his face betrayed the cold tone of his words as he spoke. Flynn stared back at him for a moment, but that was all it took to understand he wasn¡¯t kidding. Though it was great to have him on your side, it was never comfortable to be on the receiving end of Elliot¡¯s ire.

    Flynn hesitated, eventually averting his gaze from Elliot¡¯s as he deflated under his stare. ¡°Sure, whatever¡­¡± He muttered, his gaze dropping to the ground. It was pathetic.

    ¡°So, this is where you were¡­¡± A monotone voice rang coldly in the air. Flynn¡¯s gaze snapped back upward to see a girl with snow-white skin rounding the corner. Grace¡¯s icy blue eyes scanned the group of boys before settling on Flynn and Shane. Her lips pressed together into a thin line, but her expression remained unreadable. She wore a brown sweater that hugged tight around her figure, tapering off into a pleated gray skirt that remained surprisingly still as she moved. Her wavy blonde hair shifted slightly as she walked, falling behind her shoulders out of sight.

    Flynn and Grace had known each other since elementary school. Long before either of them had met anyone else in their friend group. She was a quiet girl for the most part, never exceeding more than a few words any time she opened her mouth. It was enough for most people to perceive her as completely indifferent, though Flynn knew this was just a part of her personality. Seeing her now, the emotions he felt were¡­ complicated.

    ¡°Hey, you miss me that much~¡± Elliot swooped in towards her, wasting no time as he leaned in for a kiss.

    ¡°Hey.¡± Grace replied flatly. Though she hardly shared his enthusiasm, she didn¡¯t resist it either as he gave her a light peck on the lips.

    Elliot¡¯s back obscured her face as Flynn felt a weight grow in his chest. Whatever modicum of pride he felt earlier immediately dissipated at the sight. The two had been together for almost two years now, he cursed himself for still feeling anything towards it.

    Freeing herself from Elliot¡¯s embrace, Grace walked towards Flynn and Shane, greeting Flynn briefly with another ¡°Hey.¡± as she passed him. ¡°Yo.¡± Flynn said coolly before Grace stopped in front of Shane. ¡°You¡¯re gonna get yourself suspended again,¡± she murmured, brushing ashes off his jacket like it was the most natural thing in the world. Flynn noticed Elliot¡¯s gaze tense on Shane as she did so.

    ¡°Haha¡­ don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m sneaky. Like, Ninja sneaky. Like¡­ Jackie Chan,¡± Shane laughed idiotically, pulling the hood of his jacket over his head comically while slurring his words.

    Grace¡¯s expression seemed to soften as she picked the ashes from his jacket, appearing completely unlike the apathy with which she treated Elliot and himself. Flynn felt his heart sink again, he wasn¡¯t even number two. Looking up at Shane¡¯s tangled hair and acne-ridden visage, he wondered what was so special about him. He and Grace hadn¡¯t been together since middle school, yet she only went out of her way to take care of him in moments like this. ¡®Stop it.¡¯ Flynn berated himself again. It wasn¡¯t like he was clumsy enough to leave any evidence on himself like Shane had. He shook off the feeling as best he could.

    Elliot scoffed. ¡°Yeah, which movie is it again where Jackie Chan looks like he¡¯s been skipping meals and the gym for five years?¡±

    ¡°Hey¡­!¡± Shane protested, though it sounded more like someone mumbling in their sleep. ¡°I¡¯ve been bulking recently.¡± He pulled up his sleeve and flexed his bicep. Rather than a muscle, Flynn wondered if somehow an almond had found its way under his skin.

    Brandon and Elliot burst into laughter at the sight as Flynn simply shook his head in embarrassment. Brandon looked as though he might topple over, wheezing as he spoke. ¡°Bulking? It looks like you¡¯ve been curling pencils!¡± Quietly, Flynn heard Grace clicking her tongue in disapproval. Though, she said nothing to stop the two hysterical boys¡¯ laughter.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°Alright, it might be a little hard after that gun show but try and hold back the waterworks ladies. We got student council in five minutes.¡± Elliot clapped his hands before announcing. Brandon let out an overeager laugh at Elliot¡¯s joke and Flynn rolled his eyes.

    ¡°You¡¯re good to go, right Flynn?¡± Flynn returned his gaze to Elliot who was eyeing him with a smile. He knew that question only had one right answer.

    ¡°Yeah...¡± He sighed.

    ¡°Oh, come on, you guys will only have twice the workload starting next week. What¡¯s not to love?¡± Elliot added, his smirk growing. Flynn winced as he was reminded.

    Flynn¡¯s footsteps echoed in the hall as he followed behind Elliot and Grace towards the conference room where the student council meeting would be held. It had been a while since they had departed from Shane, him mumbling something about hotboxing with his friends as he stumbled towards the parking lot. Flynn could make out the door to the conference room in the distance when Brandon left the group, eagerly receiving a fist-bump with Elliot like he was being knighted by his king. His face was practically glowing as he made his way down the hall away from them.

    Flynn¡¯s eyes returned to the conference room, catching a rare sight. Valerie stood outside, clutching a stack of books while engaged in conversation with a girl sporting dark bangs that shadowed over her hazel eyes. Her nose ring glinted faintly under the fluorescent lights of the school hallway, it was small enough to be unnoticeable, hanging on the corner of her right nostril. She gestured sharply with her hands, speaking quickly, but Flynn was too far to make out the words. Suddenly, her gaze shifted, seeming to lock on to Elliot who waltzed carelessly ahead of him. Flynn wondered if he should speak up and warn him as Carmen Vera¡¯s expression hardened, making her appear just about ready to punt Elliot across the hallway.

    Valerie turned slightly, her eyes following Carmen¡¯s line of sight. Her sharp green eyes landed upon Elliot and Grace, staring at them for a moment as she spoke to Carmen before her eyes eventually landed on Flynn. Upon doing so, they turned noticeably cold before she quickly retracted her gaze and turned back to her friend. Before Flynn could dwell on it, Valerie spoke quickly to Carmen who gave a final cold glance back at Elliot before turning to walk briskly down the hall. Valerie watched her leave for a moment before quickly turning to head inside the conference room, books in hand.

    Valerie and Carmen¡­ Their friendship didn¡¯t make any sense to Flynn. He didn¡¯t ponder over it for too long, however, quietly entering the conference room behind Grace and Elliot.

    The conference room was quite large in size, something Flynn always found unnecessarily extravagant considering the size of the student council. The long conference table stretched almost the entire length of the room, over a dozen office chairs flanking it from either side. It was only at Elliot¡¯s insistence that the school board allowed them to occupy one of the larger conference rooms in the building. Apparently, he had felt too cramped in the previous room, something Flynn never understood considering that room had enough space to fit at least three dozen Elliots inside of it. Flynn¡¯s gaze drifted over to the person in question. Elliot was talking to Grace, letting out a hearty laugh as she stared back at him with the same blank expression, save for a single eyebrow raised back at him in incredulity. The two sat down on the side of the table opposite the door as Flynn was soon to follow.

    He quickly sunk down into the chair closest to the door, a habit he had picked up to minimize the time he¡¯d spend droning away in their meetings as much as possible. At the head of the room was a black podium that sat in front of a large whiteboard which covered the better half of the wall it hung upon. There, Flynn saw Valerie fishing through her bag, a stack of books sitting neatly at her side as she did so. Finally, she pulled out a large binder, standing up to set it on the podium before flipping through it with practiced precision. She looked just as polished as always. She wore a simple black sweater that draped over her white blouse. It was paired with a gray skirt, similar to that which Grace wore, though hers fell noticeably further down her knees than Grace¡¯s.

    Despite the simplicity of her outfit, she appeared unnervingly immaculate. Not a smudge nor speck of dust was present on any of her clothes. Stopping at a certain page in her binder, she turned to quickly jot down what appeared to be a list on the whiteboard behind her. It wasn¡¯t long before she turned back to face the group.

    ¡°Glad to see that everyone could make it,¡± Her voice cut through the room, brisk but composed. She looked out at the room with determined green eyes. Though they were obscured by her makeup, Flynn could still make out the faint traces of dark circles under her eyes, marking her exhaustion. Her hair was tied back into a neat black ponytail, giving way to her russet-brown skin which appeared as equally flawless as her clothes. Flynn felt she was putting in far too much effort even into something so benign. Yet he felt it was to be expected at this point from the guaranteed Valedictorian.

    ¡°There¡¯s quite the bucket list on the agenda for this week. We¡¯re just T-minus two weeks until Prom, ladies and gentlemen.¡± She flashed a professional smile, though it didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. ¡°But before all that,¡± She continued, ¡°there are a few announcements we¡¯ll need to get out of the way first¡ª¡±

    A loud thump abruptly sounded from the door to the conference room, interrupting her words. Valerie turned to the source of the noise along with everyone else in the room. In a few seconds, a few more dull thuds sounded out from the other side. It sounded like someone was trying to open the door as unnoticeably as possible, though failing miserably to do so.

    ¡°Um, Mrs. Student Council President, I believe Tori has yet to arrive to the meeting.¡± Elliot remarked comically, raising his hand as he spoke in a clearly exaggerated formal tone.

    At his words, Valerie let out a deep sigh. She pinched the bridge of her nose as if warding off a sudden headache. ¡°Tori,¡± she called out firmly towards the door. The thudding quickly stopped, followed by a muffled yelp that escaped from the other side of the door. ¡°It¡¯s a pull door.¡± Valerie added, doing her best to conceal the frustration in her tone.

    ¡°O-oh!¡± A muffled exclamation came from the other side of the door before it slowly drifted open. A girl with dyed, snow-white hair slowly poked her head into the room, surveying it briefly as she made her way across the doorframe. She wore a stylish white undershirt, tucked neatly behind a black belt which held her brown pants tight around her waist. The pants tapered off as they ran down her legs, turning into baggy pockets of air before tightening just above her boots. A long-sleeved, beige, wool sweater hung over her shoulders stretching past her wrists which clutched a binder full of colorful sheets of paper tight to her chest. Her dyed hair and stylish outfit made her a sight one wouldn¡¯t be surprised to find on the cover of a fashion magazine. But Flynn knew her personality was the complete opposite of what her flamboyant getup would have one believe. The girl quickly dropped her eyes to the ground upon seeing the four pairs of eyes in the room land upon her. With ashamed fervor, she shut the door quickly behind her before scurrying over to the seat beside Flynn. She dropped the binder with an almost violent force on the table as Flynn winced from the sudden ¡®PLAP¡¯ that sounded from the poor furniture. Sitting down in the office chair beside him, he watched along with everyone else as the girl pulled the chair mechanism to raise the chair. It seemed like she had forgotten she was sitting as she pulled it, so she let out a sudden, quiet squeal as the chair suddenly plummeted down. She let out a dry cough before hastily standing up to raise the seat back where she wanted it. The clack of the wheels echoed awkwardly as she sat down once more and rolled the seat into position under the table.

    ¡°Looks like someone was too busy to make it to the student council on time! Where were you, Tori? We were all waiting for soooo long.¡± Grace elbowed Elliot in the side as he broke the silence with a teasing remark toward Tori, his tone obviously joking.

    The girl kept her head down, trembling as she squeezed her eyes shut. ¡°I-I¡¯M SORRY!¡± She shouted out her apology like thunder, with a sudden and copious volume Everyone in the room grabbed at their ears, wincing from the noise. Flynn, particularly, felt a ringing in his ears from his position right beside her.

    Tori was the head of the event planning committee, basically making her the event coordinator of the student council. She was an extremely strange girl whose personality completely mismatched her chic and outgoing sense of style. She was well-liked by most, but Flynn only felt fear in her presence

    ¡°I-It¡¯s okay, Tori. Elliot was just joking. We didn¡¯t wait long.¡± Flynn quickly offered to the girl quivering in shame beside him, with the ringing of his ears still obscuring his hearing, he still wasn¡¯t sure if the words had truly left his mouth. ¡°Y-yeah, I was just pulling your leg.¡± Flynn turned to see Elliot voicing an uncharacteristic apology. Seeing the deadly glare Grace directed at him from the side, he quickly surmised why. ¡°O-oh¡­¡± Tori raised her head for the first time, seeing Elliot¡¯s hazardous expression as she gave a curt laugh. ¡°Sorry¡­ haha. Good one.¡± Her previous ashamed countenance seemed to have completely disappeared as she responded to Elliot with an awkward smile.

    ¡®Scary¡¯ Flynn thought as he heaved an internal sigh of relief. Glancing at Elliot, he seemed to do the same, although he held his side in pain as he did so. Grace sat quietly beside him with her arms folded in front of her. Her expression remained the same, but Flynn could tell she looked satisfied. ¡°Alright.¡± Valerie began again, grabbing everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°Now that we actually have everyone...¡± She started, before running through the brief list of announcements she had prepared beforehand. She flipped through her binder with practiced precision. Flynn tuned out, only catching glimpses of the announcements as she spoke. Among the announcements was something about the departure of certain school staff members for an international transfer trip, trivial changes to the inordinately large budget the council had access to, and other unimportant jargon Valerie was obliged to tell them to keep in mind before getting to the main agenda. But of course, there was one important thing among the list of announcements. One Flynn had been dreading for a long while.

    ¡°And, last but not least, Grace and Elliot have their own announcement that they want to share themselves.¡± Flynn¡¯s eyes trailed over from Valerie to Elliot and Grace. Elliot quickly rose from his seat to make his way to the podium. ¡°Oooh!¡± Tori exclaimed with what seemed like genuine curiosity and surprise at Valerie¡¯s announcement as Flynn once again consolidated his belief that he would never understand what went on in her head. ¡°For the next two weeks, me and Grace¡­¡± Elliot paused after taking the podium. ¡°Will be away on a college visit to Princeton!¡± He announced dramatically as Tori¡¯s face contorted from her previous curiosity to surprise, or more specifically, shock. ¡°Two weeks¡­? But I thought prom was in two weeks?¡± Tori voiced her confusion with a look of genuine befuddlement. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t you worry. We¡¯re coming back on the Friday before prom, so we¡¯ll be there right on time!¡± Elliot smiled and gave a thumbs-up as he happily addressed Tori¡¯s concern. ¡°Oh!¡± She said suddenly, all confusion immediately dispelling from her face. Flynn sighed.

    ¡°Yep, so they¡¯ll only be back in time for the finishing touches. Which means that it¡¯ll be up to us to plan the whole thing while they¡¯re gone~¡± Valerie announced from behind Elliot in a tone that was almost sickly sweet as her grip tightened around the whiteboard marker. Despite the news, however, Valerie¡¯s smile didn¡¯t falter. Flynn knew that she must have been pulling her hair out when she first found out. On top of everything else she had to do, losing two members of the student council for the two weeks of planning before prom could only mean a drastic increase in her own workload. ¡°Two weeks.¡± She repeated, her voice calm yet sharp. ¡°It¡¯s more than enough time for us to finalize the groundwork.¡± As Valerie said so, however, her gaze landed solely on Tori, not bothering for a second to glance over to Flynn. Though it bothered him slightly, he wasn¡¯t too surprised. His position on the council was as ¡®Treasurer¡¯. Something he had only got because of Elliot.

    When he¡¯d mentioned a passing interest in the council, Grace had asked Elliot about it, and it was pretty much settled. With his connections, Elliot had gotten Flynn this position without him so much as lifting a finger. On top of all that, ¡®Treasurer¡¯ was basically a pointless position on the council. His job essentially amounted to keeping track of the budget and ensuring it never went over. Of course, given the affluence of the school, it was essentially impossible to go over the budget in the first place. Because of that, Flynn worked as a glorified yes-man in the council, signing off on any expenses that were within a 10-mile radius of what might be considered a ¡®council expense¡¯. As a result, Valerie treated him as a ghost. Not bothering to include him in any conversation remotely important to what they were meant to do. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t understand. She had worked her ass off to become student council president whereas he didn¡¯t need to put in any even after becoming treasurer. He used to wonder why he even stayed on the council in the first place, eventually concluding that it would be more of a bother to quit at this point. Still, it annoyed him slightly to be treated so callously.

    ¡°U-um, did I do something wrong?¡± Tori asked in a shaky voice. Valerie seemed to be directing all her pent-up anger from the news of Elliot and Grace¡¯s departure onto her. ¡°No, but you won¡¯t be allowed to from now on.¡± Valerie replied coldly as Tori stiffened up in fear. She released Tori from her gaze as Elliot walked back to Grace with a smile. He didn¡¯t seem to feel a modicum of guilt about his decision. Tori, on the other hand, looked as though she would cry but Valerie simply flipped through the pages of her binder before beginning again. ¡°Since we still have Elliot and Grace here for today, I¡¯ve decided it best that we get through all of the big decisions for Prom right now¡­¡± Flynn groaned quietly in boredom as Valerie began to write another list on the whiteboard behind her.