#Already finished The Ancient Capital and Sanctuary

[ducksbyday]

Empires SMP album covers

HELLO TUMBLR PEOPLE

I thought it would be fun to draw album covers of artists in the style of different empires. Kinda with the idea in mind that these bands would be from these areas. So, I looked for some songs that I thought fit and I drew them! Here are the results! (4/8, working on more :D)

Stratos: Half-alive - Not Now Not Yet

Highlighted song: Creature

I chose this song because I like the idea that the people of Stratos are very religious. The majority of their songs are about The god of the Sky. Further, They believe that the people of Stratos are perfect because they are created by Joel, who is perfect. Some might also still worship the ancient Queen of the Ocean. They see her as a fallen God from the past and also the past lover of God Joel.

Chromia: Saint Motel - Foyeur

Highlighted song: You Do it well

I will be honest, I mainly chose this album because of how it looked. But also I adore Saint Motel and I think it fits Chromia very well. Their music is quite diverse, most of the time cheery with a hint of mischief and mystery. I specifically chose the song "do it so well" because it fits the idea of Scott stealing and doing not-so-legal things, but somehow always getting away with it.

Gobland: The Dreadnoughts - Polka's not dead

Highlighted song: Polka never dies (or Goblin Humpa, simply bc of the name)

For Gobland I had a fitting band before even starting the project. I think The Dreadnoughts is a perfect fit. Their music is mainly reminiscent of drinking songs that would be played in bars and taverns. I believe that goblins would be notorious for their loud music and their ability to hold their booze. If you're looking for a good time, the bars of Gobland are the perfect place to go to. I think The Dreadnoughts perfectly reflect that idea.

And last but not least:

Tumble Town: Dan Romer - Into The Flames (Far cry 5 OST)

Highlighted songs: "Oh John" and "Build a castle"

This is the first one I drew and also one I pretty quickly had an answer for. Tumble Town is more of a country-music-type empire. I think the "Into The Flames" album fits the Empire quite well. I like the idea of the people of Tumble Town having a very big appreciation and lots of respect for the Sherrif, which they show in their music. The Sherrif is their protector and they would do anything for him. Although I don't think it's quite Far Cry 5 level (At least I hope not O.O).

[stellocchia]

I'm sick and awake at an unreasonable hour, so it's Empires time!

So, while I was stuck between sleeping and being awake I got thinking of what it'd be like to be an interior designer in Empires. Weirdly specific, I know, but here we go!

Sanctuary: Sausage contacts you directly. When you arrive there the outside is already built and all the blocks are provided. Maybe this will be a standard job then. You get to assembling everything, tables, chairs, a stage... there are only two boxes left. You open them: they're pole dancing poles. You sigh and get to building that too. It could have been worse, at least he's not a zombie this time.

GlimmerGrove: Not only are you contacted directly by Katherine, you're also surprised because she usually doesn't like having outsiders. You get blindfolded at the entrance of the kingdom and they only take it off once you're in a dark unsettling room with a metalling scent to it. The light gets turned on. There's a pile of bloody severed monster skulls on the floor. Katherine asks you to help them look cute. You don't get paid enough for this shit.

Stratos: The request for your help goes through so much bureaucracy that you're not even sure God Joel is aware you're coming. You go anyway. You aren't told whether your job is in Lower or Upper Stratos and nobody knows anything. Once you finally make your way to Upper Stratos Joel pushes you into one of the holes in his bridges "for fun". You don't die by poor chance but you decide that it's time to leave regardless.

Olipoligo: You got a request in the form of a parrot learning a song about interiors and singing it back to you. It's so unusual that you decide to go. Oli is there trying to hold his colorful tent together with his will and failing. You decide to help and not only secure the tent but build it a lovely interior. It's time for payment, Oli points at a weird egg behind you and, once you turn around again, he's gone. Goddammit.

Evermoore: There's been a request sitting on your shelf for ages. It's gonna remain there. After the experience with Stratos you're not getting anywhere near the cursed fog ever.

Eversea: You make the mistake of going once. At first, it looks like everything is going well. There are no blocks out for you, but you have no problems providing those for an additional fee. You finish decorating the interior of all the new houses. Pirate Joe points his pistol at you and asks you to hand over all your goods. You haven't been paid since GlimmerGrove. It's awkward for both of you.

Gobland: For the first time ever you get paid upfront. All you're asked for is not to ask questions and to work around the chickens. Sounds easy enough. It's not easy. There are chickens everywhere and new ones pop out constantly. If that wasn't enough to get Fwhip to flip, his boss? Ex-boyfriend? Whatever the Sheriff is has just either fired him or broken up with him. Either way, Fwhip has not taken it well. You get through it by politely nodding to everything he says.

Ancient Capital: You're greeted on the bridge by its only inhabitant. He brings you to a statue and then down under it. There are graves everywhere, but you try to ignore that detail. He stops in front of more graves and asks you with no hint of joking if you can make the place look cozy. You want to cry, but at least he's paying...

Cogsmade: This one is another surprise, as the ruler likes to keep to herself. You still go. There's an unsettling pumpkin statue on the bridge, you try to ignore it. False does too. Perhaps that's the reason why she asked for help decorating. You head inside, the pumpkin guy statue is in there as well. You try to ignore it again, but it doesn't work. The thing hands you a clock somehow without moving. You're out of there before anyone can say anything else. Not worth the money.

Tumble Town: You both know you aren't gonna get paid for this job, but it beats getting arrested, so you take up the Sheriff's request. You do get paid by Joel to fit in his house as many Toy Story references as you can. You don't regret as thing as you comply. You gotta admit it's kinda funny after all.

Dawn: You think you're finally getting a regular job. Princess Gem promised you enough gold to settle down for good for a bit of a house renovation. You work hard and you have a smile on your face the whole time. Finally, you're done. It's time for the payment, Gem pulls out all the gold you could wish for... or was supposed to. That's honey. All of that is honey. At least your life will be a bit sweeter from now on.

Animalia: You weren't even there for a job, you just wanted to buy some amethyst. And yet, Major Lizzie finds you and drags you into one of the houses. She offers you raw chicken and amethyst to make it seem like no butchers accidentally died in there. This may as well happen. You do a great job if you say so yourself, and get paid as promised. You never talk about it ever again.

Chromia: You heard crazy things about the ruler of the place, so you're already dreading your visit. Things take a turn for the worst when the person who comes to greet you is actually a llama. Not an anthropomorphic one like Animalia's citizens, just a normal regular llama. You still decide to go through with it. It... goes surprisingly well. You get paid normally and you only have to sit through a few hours of Scott thirsting for Sausage. Overall, you think you got desensitized to that shit by now.

[uniarycode]

Takari Week 2021 Day 5- AU

Medieval Fantasy AU: Takeru is a young boy who tames a Pegasus and goes to live in a castle in the sky, with an army of Celestials, and a young prophet.

Wordcount: 3370

Written as part of @takariweek

Takeru didn’t have many memories of being on the surface, they tended to involve either his brother, his father or Pata. The former two he missed dearly, the latter seldom left his side these days.

He’d been four when he met Pata, he’d found the foal frolicking in a field, doing summersaults over the meadow. It was against the rules to interact with creatures you did not recognize, but the Deep Ones had not been seen near his village in generations, and Takeru was couldn’t help but take the risk. And Pata just seemed so friendly. Takeru had shared some herbs he’d found, and that had been enough to earn the foal’s undying loyalty.

Pata had been his secret for a while, it may seem difficult to hide a horse, but Pata could fly, most did not look for horses in the trees or on rooftops. Some that did thought they’d gone insane rather than believe their eyes. Pata became Takeru’s closest friend, his chief confidant. Without knowing the proper name for a flying horse, Takeru had decided to call him Pata, based on the gentle sound of his wingbeat. The name stuck.

He was six when Pata had been discovered. He and his brother were gathering some goods from the market, when some bigger boys from the next town over had begun attacking them, attempting to force Yamato to hand over all their money. When Takeru had cried for them to stop, it was Pata who had answered his call, galloping straight at the boys, and scaring them away instantly.

Such a large commotion could not go unnoticed, and immediately the villager’s opinion of him became divided. Some treated him with scorn, as a devil that possessed authority over monsters, others with reverence, as a sacred omen.

The priest showed up at his door a few weeks later, flanked by two outsiders, cloaked in armor and robes the likes of which far outshone even the knights of the capital. Takeru had been scared at first, until one of the knights, a woman, had summoned her own steed and told him he was very special.

She’d explained to him that they were Celestials: the goddess’s chosen. That since he had bonded with a Pegasus, that he too must have been a Celestial. And that the Deep Ones and the celestials were fated enemies.

After that, there had been questions, they asked him how he had met Pata, whether he’d ever road the horse, what his dreams were like, if he’d ever traveled outside the village.

Far more questions were directed at his parents, they asked his lineage, where his parents came from, where his parents’ parents came from, at one time they’d even accused his momma of having stolen him from another woman.

Takeru didn’t understand it at the time, but things were very complex. Celestials did not like outsiders, but since he’d tamed a Pegasus he couldn’t be an outsider. But they could not say the same about his family.

In the end, his mother had been allowed to accompany him to his new home, and his brother and father had been left behind. Even when he was old enough to ride Pata freely, he’d been forbidden from making contact with them, and he’d quickly learned how big the world was when he tried to anyway.

Life was hard with the celestials. On the ground, they said that the goddess lived in a palace in the sky, guarded by her knights. Inside the sanctuary, the tale was similar but different. The one they protected was a prophet, who died and was reborn every one hundred and eight years. And while they had many knights, the Celestials regarded their entire race as chosen ones, the only ones worthy of serving the prophet and able to defeat the king of the Deep Ones.

Being born on the surface made Takeru inferior in the eyes of the other children. That alone earned him hardship, but he had also bonded with a Pegasus at a record age. Despite having no proper training, he was years ahead of his peers, and that brought him further scorn.

***

At eight, Pata had turned into a stallion, and that had brought a conundrum for the Celestials. By right and custom, Takeru was now a squire. The next youngest squire had recently turned twelve, the eldest squires were eighteen. Takeru was simply too young and small to perform the duties provided by most squires.

He could clean the stables and feed the Pegasi, although still at slower speeds than the older squires. But he could not carry weapons for a knight, nor was he tall enough to help them into all of their armor, nor did anyone trust him to ride Pata more than three feet into the air. He was never picked to accompany a knight on a campaign or a quest.

Then he had been given a new duty. One that none of the other squires talked about. As he’d been summoned in front of the elders, they informed him he would not talk about this duty, that it would be taken with him to the grave.

That was the first of many rules.

He was told he would be delivering food to a guest, as well as refreshing the oil on their lamps. He was not to talk to the guest he found. Nor would touch her. Nor would he touch the food, only the tray used to bring it to her. He would set the tray in front of the guest, fill all the lamps in the room, then stand in the corner until she had finished eating, retrieve the tray, and leave.

And of course, no harm would come to the guest.

After he had accepted one of the elders objected, then another, then another. They were all overruled, and a knight directed Takeru to the kitchens.

It seemed silly, to have a knight guide him around, but send a squire anyway. Takeru followed the knight into the castle, through some twists and turns, to a small door guarded by two more knights.

They reaffirmed his directions, then let the door open a couple of feet, barely more than he could fit himself and the tray through. Even then, he was not at the guest. He had to walk down three more hallways before he found her.

He opened the final door to reveal a girl who looked no older than himself, to his shock. But he was a squire now, he couldn’t show such a weak reaction. The rest of the room was fancy, if cramped. A large four-post bed, a single dresser for clothes, no chair nor desk nor anything else. On the walls hung lanterns and tapestries, and in the corner of the room, there was a lectern with paper, a pen, and a chute.

He walked over to the guest and set the tray down in front of her when his eye caught a tapestry draped across the wall. So deep in the bowels of the castle, this room had no exterior light, and he moved to get a better view in the flickering lanterns.

The tapestry itself displayed a great battle, many knights fight deep ones and a strange giant monster. On the edge of the tapestry were eight symbols he did not recognize, perhaps they were words in an ancient language? Each one held a separate color: yellow, pink, red, purple, blue, green, grey, and orange.

The lantern flickered, reminding Takeru of his duties. He turned back to the tray, remembering he’d left the oil there, only to jump in horror as he saw the guest, one hand on the canister full of oil, bringing it to her lips.

“Stop!” he cried, “You’ll get sick if you drink that.”

The girl turned to him; eyes wide at his outburst. Takeru realized his mistake, raising one hand to his mouth.

“You can talk.” She said, “I’ve never talked to anyone before, except my cat. But she doesn’t like talking back.”

Takeru felt his heart speed up. He’d already broken the rules, but the guest seemed so excited. Why wasn’t he supposed to talk to the guest if she wanted to talk? His mom would yell at him for being rude.

“Yeah, I can talk.” He thought for a second. “How’d you learn to talk, if no one talked to you before.”

“Learn?” she asked. “I always knew how to talk, like how I know how to breathe or eat or write.” She said as if it were obvious.

“You know how to write too?” he asked in amazement. All the other squires knew how to write, but none of the teachers ever bothered to explain it to him.

“You don’t?” she asked. “So you can talk, but not write.” Her face twisted into a smile. “You’re an odd one.”

That was true, he was the only celestial who wasn’t born a celestial, he became a squire at such a young age. But somehow when she pointed it out, he felt all funny.

“You should eat.” He said, “You must be hungry.”

“I don’t want to eat. I want to talk. Everyone else left when I finished eating, you will too, won’t you?”

He blushed. “I-I’m supposed to.”

“And I don’t want you to leave. If I never eat you have to stay.”

That didn’t sound too bad, but he did want to see his mom and Pata again at some point. “If I take too long, they’ll probably never let me see you again. Then I won’t be able to talk to you anymore.”

“You have a point.” She said, grabbing the utensils and beginning to shovel food into her mouth. “Whurts your name. Everyone has a name, even my cat. She won’t tell it to me though.” she said, not bothering to swallow before speaking. Takeru’s mom would have called it rude, but if it's what it took to keep her eating, he could accept it.

“Takeru Takaishi.” He said, beginning to fill the lanterns around the room. “What’s yours?”

“I have many names. Guiding Star, Eternal Shepherd, Prophet of the Goddess. I like Hikari the most, though.”

Takeru ended up spilling some of the oil, he quickly tried to recover himself. “You’re the prophet? What are you doing in a place like this?”

He could have kicked himself. The room, while cramped and locked away, was still far better than the dormitory he shared with the other squires or the cold tower they’d relocated his mother into. And she had said that both were fancier, if not larger, than their old home on the surface.

“This is where I’ve always been.” She replied. “And you? There’s something mysterious about you, I can tell.”

Should he admit it? Somehow he felt he could trust this girl, she was the prophet after all. “I lived on the surface before, unlike the others. Everyone says Celestial’s are stronger than the surface dwellers.”

That earned him a laugh from Hikari. “Do they? How quickly they forget. The only reason this castle exists is because they were too scared to fight the Deep Ones themselves. They chose to flee to the one place they could not be harmed before mounting any resistance.”

Takeru looked at her, blinking. “How’d you know that, how old are you?”

“Eight. But I just know that. Like how you know to talk or write.”

There was a clatter of metal against porcelain. “Oh, I guess I’m done.” She looked down. “I was having so much fun, I must have forgotten to go slowly.”

“It’s okay.” He said. “You were probably hungry anyway.”

He lingered like that a few minutes more, neither of them talking beyond pleasantries, before he finally excused himself.

The next day he was not chosen to bring Hikari her meal. But he was the day after. That pattern continued for a couple of weeks. Eventually, Hikari admitted that whenever someone else brought her meal, she would send a letter to the elders insisting it was him who came instead.

The elders must have gotten the hint because Takeru began to visit Hikari as part of his daily routine. No one but the elders and some of the knights knew his task, but all of them regarded him differently. Like back when Pata had first been discovered. Some looked at him with reverence, some with scorn.

He and Hikari talked about everything they could, sometimes they even talked about the same things on different days. Hikari was very knowledgeable about the outside for someone who had stayed in one room her entire life and never talked to anyone. She claimed the knowledge was natural, instinctive.

One day he’d been talking about his brother, how he’d left him behind to join the celestials, and how much he missed him.

Hikari had held out her hand in response, Takeru had hesitated at first, he wasn’t supposed to touch her. But then he also wasn’t supposed to talk to her. When he took her hand she closed her eyes and began to describe a scene for him.

A young blond boy who worked the fields by day. He stayed separate from the other kids when they gathered, but kept himself close enough to watch them play. He’d fashioned a flute out of a reed, and played it only when he thought no one else was around.

She told him that his brother missed him very much.

After she released his hand, she confessed to having a brother of her own. But as she’d not been two when she’d been moved to this room as part of her duties, and she was worried that her brother had forgotten her. However, she could scry her brother at any time and learned he’d recently bonded with a Pegasus so that in a few years he’d have the qualifications to serve her himself.

***

That time came when Takeru was eleven. He’d not known, which boy to look for at first, but when a fourteen-year-old with the same dark hair as Hikari had joined the squires and the very next day he had not been told to bring Hikari her meal, he was smart enough to figure it out.

Having someone else to feed Hikari also allowed Takeru to leave with one of the knights on a quest or two. He was still the youngest of all the squires, but he had more years of training than all but the eldest. Some knights still shunned him due to his birth, but those who were willing to take him along were also quick to ask for him again, whenever he wasn’t needed to keep Hikari company.

It was after one such quest that he’d found Hikari ranting, complaining about her brother’s seeming vow of silence. It was at this point Takeru had admitted there was a rule against speaking in her presence.

“You break the rules? Every time you visit me?” she asked.

“I like you more than the rules.” He said, “Besides, you’re the Prophet. You’re probably the most important person here. You should make the rules.”

“I did make the rules.” She said. “In my past life. The past prophet always makes the rules for the next incarnation.” She looked at him “Is that odd?”

Takeru shrugged “I don’t know anything about my past life, I’m not a prophet though.”

She nodded. “Did you break any other rules?”

“I’m not supposed to touch you.” He admitted. “But you were always the one who asked.”

“That’s because I like touching you.” She said. “You make me feel nice, like watching the clouds part, or the first sunbeam cresting a mountain to welcome the new day.”

Hikari tilted her head. “Why would I tell no one to talk to me or touch me if I want to talk to everyone and I want you to touch me?”

Takeru shrugged. “Are you sure you made the rules, maybe the elders changed them?”

She shook her head. “They wouldn’t dare. They do not know how my gift works; I don’t even know how my gift works. For all they knew I would know as soon as they tried it.”

“I don’t know.” Something caught his eye. “But if you can’t talk, that doesn’t mean you can’t communicate.” He pointed at the lectern in the corner. “How much paper do you have? Taichi knows how to read and write.”

“The paper and pen are blessed; they don’t run out.” She said. “That might work, but if Taichi won’t talk to me, why would he write to me?”

“It’s not against the rules, is it?”

His scheme had ultimately proven successful, although it had taken a few days to get Taichi on board. Soon enough the siblings were truly reunited, and Takeru had never seen Hikari or Taichi looking so happy.

***

When he was fourteen, Hikari’s demeanor changed. She became more withdrawn, more distant, even to him. He couldn’t ask Taichi directly if it were the same, no squires were supposed to know who anyone else in charge of Hikari was, but he could tell that the older squire had grown more somber as well.

He confronted her directly. It took a couple of days, but he wore through her resistance.

“Takeru, you break the rules every time you come here, right?” she asked.

“I do.” He said, “But they were your rules, and you wanted me to break them, right?”

“They were.” She agreed, “I think I understand now.”

“Understand?” he pressed “That I talk to you because I enjoy it?”

“No.” she said. “Why I would make rules I barely tolerate and enforce them on myself.” She looked at the tapestry. “I think, I think I needed someone who could break the rules.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand, “Hikari, what is going on?”

“Promise me.” She said, “Promise me you’ll break the rules for me. No matter which rules. Please Takeru, you’re the only one I can trust with this.”

“I do.” He pulled her into a hug. “I’ll break whatever rule you need me to. I swear. Just please, let me help you.”

Her tears began to stain his shoulder. “Kill me.”

His blood turned cold. “What?”

“Kill me. Please Takeru, everyone else here, they think I’m a saint. They won’t let me so much as stub my toe. Even my cat won’t scratch me. You are the only one who can do this for me.”

“Hikari, I don’t understand. What is going on?”

She took a deep breath. “I had a vision. The Deep Ones were back. I watched them conquer nation after nation, I watched as even the Celestials fall. I watched them kill Taichi, I watched them kill you.” She swallowed. “And I saw all that because I was there. I was leading them, I made it happen.”

“Hikari you would never.”

“I will.” She insisted. “I’ve never been wrong before. I’ve never heard of the prophet being wrong before. This is the only way I can think of, I need to give up on this life and hope for the next one.”

Her arms squeezed tighter around him. “Please Takeru, you’re the only one I can ask.”

“No.”

“No? No! But you promised! You promised me you’d do anything!”

This was the first time he’d seen Hikari get mad, and it scared him, but still he did not relent. “I promised you I’d break every rule for you. And I will. If you tell me not to visit you again, I will break that rule. If you decree that I must kill you, I’ll break that rule as well. If it’s a rule that the profit’s visions must come to pass, then I’ll break that rule too.”

“You’re being stupid.”

“Ahh, Hikari. I’m afraid that I must break the rules of logic as well. I made a promise, you see.”

She scoffed at him, but for the first time in weeks, she was wearing a smile.

[classicalmonuments]

Sanctuary of Si (Seeia)

Hauran, Syria

50 BCE - 4th century CE ~

Si is now a deserted ruin. Ancient Seeia was not a town, or a village, like the majority of sites in the Hauran, but an ancient “high place”, or sacred precinct, adorned with temples, enclosed courts, splendid gateways, statues, and monumental inscriptions. On the plateau to the east of the precinct, and upon its slopes, there grew up a small village which exhibits no signs of Christian work, and is probably of the Roman period, or even of the same period as the temples. The architecture here is very simple, and is in a very much ruined condition, but it seems to illustrate all of the more important principles of construction that are characteristic of the Roman and Christian periods in the Hauran. From all that I observed, it is impossible to assign dates to any of these houses. In the valley to the north there are a few ruins of towers which I took to be coeval with the temples, and a great number of tombs, tower-like structures of the early period, and more elaborate constructions of both the Nabataean and the Roman periods. 

From the valley, at a point about 300 m. east of the precinct, a paved road, of excellent construction in huge squared blocks, and about 7 m. wide, leads at an easy grade to the easternmost gate of the precinct. The general course of this road and the plan of the precinct and of the terraces about it may be seen on the map at the beginning of this Part. The road passes by the ruins of a bath and of a number of buildings of unknown purpose. At about half its length, it passes between the ruined piers of a fallen arched gateway. It terminates at an enormous pile of debris which represents the ruins of a triple-arched gateway of the Roman period. At this point the ascent is so steep that I cannot but believe that the outer gate, like those within, was approached by steps. Inside the entrance a paved courtyard, about 50 m. long and 19 m. wide, stretches to the westward. On the south of this court rises a retaining wall, 5 m. high, which masks the side of the knoll upon which a small temple stood. This temple was approached by a flight of steps set into the retaining wall and flanked by two niches. On the north is a terrace, 7 m. below the court, which is heaped high with debris in which are many interesting fragments denoting the presence of a buried building· of some kind. The eastern and western limits of this terrace are marked by walls of unusual thickness. This terrace, like all the others to be described, was artificially cut in the slope of the hillside. The western end of this first court is marked by the ruins of a gateway which I have called the Nabataean gate, because all of its details are in the characteristic Oriental style of Si. This structure is almost completely hidden in its own ruins, and the northern, or right hand, half of it is buried in the debris of a building of the Roman period with beautiful and characteristic details of the second century in Syria. The middle court, 50 cm. above the other, completely paved, and about 60 m. long by 23 m. wide, is not on axis with the outer court, but bends toward the north. It is flanked by terraces; one on the south about a metre higher than the pavement and one on the north some 7 m. below. The higher terrace was partly built up on a retaining wall, and is strewn with ruins. At its western end the temple of Dushara was discovered. The lower terrace is filled with masses of fallen building stones, broken statues, and fragmentary inscriptions, and is a promising place for future clearing out. 

The end of the middle court is marked by a flight of steps 87 cm. high, and by a fine specimen of highly finished wall with an elaborate gateway in the middle. This is the east wall of the peristyle court in front of the great temple. It had preserved about 1.50 m. of its original height, gateway and all, when we uncovered it. Within the gateway, that is, between the jambs of the portal, are two more steps which raise the pavement of the inner court 1.25 m. above that of the middle court. This inner court with its peristyle I have termed the Theatron, in the light of an inscription in Nabataean which uses this Greek word, given in Nabataean letters, in such a way that it can be applied to nothing else. This court is also slightly off axis with the one which precedes it, it measures about 25 m. north and south and about 21m. east and west, inside the wall. The colonnade occupies three sides of a rectangle of 18 m. by 20 m. in front of the temple. Between the colonnade and the wall are a narrow passage and two steps, like the seats of a theatre, which may have suggested the name Theatron to the builders. The side walls of this enclosure are carried along the sides of the temple, at a distance of about 2.50 m. to enclose a space 12 m. deep in the rear of the temple; this space was also paved. 

The magnificent temple wall of highly finished masonry which was disclosed by M. de Vogue and found to be intact to a height of 2 m., the two broad steps below it, the jambs of the portal, the bases of the columns and the bases of statues which he found all in situ, have been broken up to the very foundations and carried away by the stone- breakers since 1900. But these same plunderers, by carrying away much of the debris which filled the temple in 1861, and which M. de Vogue did not attempt to remove, have disclosed a part at least of the plan of the interior from which the rest may be restored, and have brought to light many new and important architectural fragments.

The style and character of the buildings, their present state of preservation, and the probable dates of their erection are to be discussed under the separate descriptions of the various buildings; but a few general remarks on these topics may not be out of place in these introductory paragraphs. The importance of the architectural remains at Si' lies in the fact that the buildings of the precinct here constitute the most important group of religious structures known to have been erected by that important branch of the Aramaean peoples known as the Nabataeans. M. de Vogue published a better preserved temple, of an entirely different plan, but having similar details, which he found at Suweda. A plan and a few fragments of one temple and scanty details of another found at Umm idj-DjimM have already appeared in these publications;1 two temples discovered in the Ledja by these expeditions are to be published in the Part which follows this one. These are the only monuments of Nabataean religious architecture known thus far, and the monuments at Si are the finest of their class. Here we have three temples, two of them of a plan hitherto unknown, the third prostyle tetrastyle. Beside the temples there are two fine gateways in the Nabataean style and one of the Roman period, and a bath that probably belongs to the later date. In the plain below there is a great variety of tomb structures, most of which are Nabataean. 

Most of these buildings were designed in a style that borrows little or nothing from the contemporary or earlier Hellenistic architecture of Syria. As stone cutters and masons these builders were unmatched for skill; they placed the arch directly upon the column, being perhaps the first architects to do so. They employed a great variety of profiles in their mouldings, and often embellished them with naturalistic, or conventional, or geometrical, designs of carving; but few of the profiles or of the carved designs are to be found in the Classical architecture of Greece or of Rome. They used the bell, or inverted capital, as a base for columns, and adorned it as the Persians had done. They designed capitals of many varieties, one drawn roughly from the outlines of the Corinthian capital, but very differently treated in detail; another with a gigantic abacus like those found in Petra and in Hegra in Arabia and those recently discovered in Bosra;3 others still, of moulded types with little leaves below the angles of the abacus, resembling only in the faintest degree the capitals of the Classical orders. But stranger still it is to find that these Oriental artists introduced grotesques and naturalistic animal forms into their carving. Human forms with distorted bodies and grinning faces appear among the leafage of some of the capitals, while birds and locusts are found in the foliage of the grape-vines. The grape-vine was the favorite subject for the broader bands of architectural ornament, and so great is the variety of treatment in leaves and fruit that it may be possible to trace a chronological sequence by means of it. But other vines were also popular; for we find the ivy and the convolvulus, and even the thistle, treated as a running ornament. The well-known acanthus, so common in Classical designs, if used at all, does not appear as a familiar plant naturalistically treated, like so many other vegetable forms, but as a conventional ornament with little resemblance either to the plant itself, or to the conventionalized form in which the Greeks and Romans used it. The Corinthian form of capital undoubtedly had long been known in Syria, in the Hellenistic architecture of the three centuries before Christ. We have specimens of it, dating from the second century b. c., in the building erected by John Hyrkanos at Arak il-Emir.1 In this building there are two varieties, one large and having a double row of plain water-leaves, the other small, with a single row of true acanthus. The Nabataean capitals at Si', which follow the Corinthian model to a certain extent, have but one row of leaves, and that a tall one, and the leaves resemble the acanthus more perhaps than those of any other plant. 

There are three perfectly distinct periods of building represented in the ruins at Sf, two of which are definitely dated by inscriptions, the third, by unmistakable peculiarities of style. The first is a Nabataean period dated by an inscription which tells us that the temple was begun in the third quarter of the first century before Christ. I believe that some of the fragments here are somewhat older than the earliest date named in the inscription — 33 b. c. - or, in other words, that the inscription does not record the actual foundation of the building. The second period is also devoid of Hellenistic influence, and is dateable within fifty years by means of inscriptions of Agrippa II, i. e. from 50 to circ. 100 a. d. The third period is represented by fragments of architectural details which were certainly executed in the second century after Christ. The three periods would then be roughly speaking, 

1st. from 50 b. c. to 50 A. d. ; 

2nd. from 50 a. d. to 106 a. d., when Arabia became a Roman province under Trajan; 

3rd. from 106 a. d. to the close of the reign of Caracalla in 217 a. d., which marks the end of this particular style in Syria.

There are no evidences of building activity in Si in the later style of the Roman period, or in Christian times; in fact, as we shall see later, the temples appear to have been the particular mark of early Christian violence, perhaps, as M. de Vogue suggests, owing to the activities of Herod and of the presence of inscriptions of that prince in the precinct. It is probable that the place has been deserted since the beginning of the fourth century.

Sources: 1 ,2 ,3 (colorized using playback)

[the-dubstep-strawberry]

Just Passing Through

The sun was rising on another day in the Commonwealth, but as far as Lucas Miller was concerned, that bright, lazy son-of-a-bitch had had more than its fair share of rest. His day had started hours before dawn, with the bellowing of his restless pack Brahmin better than any alarm clock; he'd rolled up his sleeping bag and doused the dying embers of the campfire, while the two guards who traveled with his caravan grumbled over cups of the steaming homemade tea they brewed from Bloodleaf flowers.

It was Sunday, two days since his caravan had set out from Bunker Hill with its usual itinerary. Their destination was Tenpines Bluff, one of the Minutemen settlements. It was small - just a handful of settlers and their shacks, and the field of Tatos they tended - but the armor trade was brisk and there were always orders coming in from nearby Sanctuary Hills. General de Havilland and her growing band of men and women had become his best customers, he reflected, as he finished tying his bootlace and rose to his feet.

The Brahmin let out a long, low moo of protest as they set off walking again.

“All right, Ol' Girl,” he told the cow, patting the side of the head nearest him. “Not much further now. We'll rest up soon and get you fed and watered.”

As he walked, his eyes settled on the road ahead, at a point just below the horizon. It always paid to keep your eyes on the road. The caravan routes were safer now than they had been for some years, with the new Minutemen patrols on the roads, but his father had always warned him to be vigilant when traveling. There were still dangers to be found out here if you weren't wary – Bloodbugs and Stingwings had taken down more than their fair share of Brahmin, and sometimes people. There were Raiders too - fewer than there used to be, but still the occasional brave or foolhardy group who took their chances. Gunners, for the most part, knew better than to disrupt the trade routes that they depended on for their own weapons, armor and chems, but some of the hotheaded ones preferred to do their negotiating down the barrel of a gun when disagreements arose. Yao Guai, Radscorpions and Deathclaws were the worst, he thought, shuddering. And Mirelurks. He hated Mirelurks.

One of the guards looked up at the sound of a distant noise. Lucas looked up too, and saw the shapes coming over the horizon; another pack Brahmin, heavily laden with boxes and bundles of goods which rattled and rustled and jingled as the two-headed cow trudged along, hooves thudding on ancient asphalt. No guards accompanied the beast of burden, but a person he recognized was walking alongside it; a weary-looking woman in a familiar blue jacket.

“Carla,” he greeted her. “How's business?”

“You again,” she said dryly. “Here to trade?”

He nodded.

“Mm-hmm. The usual. Tenpines Bluff and back again.”

“Need to pick something up? Road's pretty long from here.”

Lucas smiled. Trashcan Carla, as the locals called her, sold junk, but it was good junk – household goods, odds and ends, useful scrap scavenged from old ruins and sold to whoever had enough caps in their pocket. Sometimes she sold bulk goods, oil and steel, wood and screws, things that homesteaders and builders would put to good use as they staked their claim in the wastes, putting down foundations for farms and families. The General was a regular customer, she'd said once, as they'd stopped to chat in Bunker Hill between trips. Always building, and rebuilding, wherever she went.

“You keep traveling and I'm sure we'll do business by and by,” he replied politely.

“Maybe next time,” she said, amused. “All right then. Safe travels.”

“Safe travels to you too.”

They passed alongside each other, perfectly parallel; their Brahmin brushed past each other with long lowing noises, and the guards both nodded in Carla's direction; the small greeting designed to acknowledge each other's presence without getting caught up in conversation when you had other places to be, which she returned in kind.

Safe travels. That was the traditional farewell when your paths led you in different directions, no matter who your fellow travelers were. Farmers venturing out to bigger settlements to sell baskets of bulbous purple Mutfruits and bundles of Razorgrain; the provisioners who traveled between the smaller settlements, entrusted with the essential tasks of delivering goods and messages to their neighbors, smartly dressed in the Pre-War postal uniforms that the Minutemen issued to make their role look more “official”; the Minutemen patrols themselves, in worn jeans and yellow jackets and the militia hats popularized by Colonel Preston Garvey, the General's second-in-command; and occasionally a passing squad of Power-Armored soldiers from the Brotherhood of Steel, who might reply with a salute and a gruff response of “Citizen”, if they were feeling talkative that day.

The General wore Power Armor too, sometimes, when she wasn't wearing her famous tricorn hat and military overcoat. He'd been told that she was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel herself, in addition to leading her own army; he'd seen her out and about a few times with the former Paladin Danse, who had been forced out of the faction he'd once served over some internal disagreement, if the news reports on the radio were to be believed. For someone who'd lost everything, he decided, the man had looked surprisingly happy. He supposed he would be too, if he had a beautiful woman like the General following him wherever he went...

“Who's that behind us?” said one of the guards, by his side.

Lucas blinked, and turned around to look. Sure enough, there were two more Brahmin coming up behind them, and a few more shapes, human ones – two were caravan guards, much like his, with leather armor and suspicious scowls, and rifles slung on their backs. A third person was the merchant they guarded, a bearded man in a long coat and sturdy armored boots.

“Haven't seen him before,” he responded. “Not a local, by the looks of him. Must be from outside the Commonwealth.”

The second guard, the younger one, took the hunting rifle from his back in readiness, but the first one shook his head.

“Settle down, kid, they're just traders,” he told the other. “Wrong armor for Raiders and they're hauling too much gear. Raiders travel light round these parts, and they tend to hole up somewhere and stay put. Besides, they would've taken pot-shots at us by now. And Gunners make more of an entrance. Nothing to worry about.”

The second guard reluctantly lowered his rifle again.

“Yeah, I guess so. Who's that with them?”

There were two other people with the approaching caravan, Lucas noticed, as they got closer and the second Brahmin came into view. A young woman in a Vault suit and a leather jacket was trudging alongside the animal, complaining loudly about her aching feet; the other was a little boy, mop-haired and freckle-faced, sitting on the Brahmin's back and holding onto its neck as best he could. He was about four or five, Lucas supposed, and his clothes were slightly too big for him, although wasteland kids tended to wear clothes that didn't fit them too well, and slightly too big was always considered better than slightly too small. He and the woman had clearly come a long distance, perhaps even further than the others; they both looked tired and travel-worn, their clothes and boots thick with dust from the road.

“Hey,” called out the woman. “Hey, you! Wait up!”

Lucas and the guards stopped walking.

“Whoa there,” he told his own Brahmin, and Ol' Girl obediently came to a halt. “Let's see what they want.”

The other caravan drew closer, hurrying to catch them up, and then stopped right behind Ol' Girl, who looked unimpressed by the presence of the other two Brahmin; she mooed at one when it tried to get too close, and one of its guards shooed it away a few feet.

“Hey, friend,” Lucas greeted the newcomers. “Looks like you've come a long way. Where are you headed?”

“That's just it,” said the woman, cutting in before the other trader could speak. “We're… kind of lost. Could you give us some directions? You're from round here, right?”

Lucas nodded.

“Aye. Name's Lucas Miller. I sell armor for Old Man Stockton's outfit. Based out of Bunker Hill,” he told her. “And who might you be?”

The young woman frowned, and he was suddenly reminded of the way the General frowned; the purse of her lips, a slight wrinkling at the bridge of a shapely nose, and the furrowing of a pale brow that hadn't seen very much of the outdoors.

“Best you don't ask her that,” the trader beside her interjected. “Bit of a sore topic. She's given us three fake names already, and she didn't speak to us for a day and a half when we tried to get the real one out of her.”

“How about yours, then?” Lucas tried again.

“Name's Cartwright,” said the man, with more enthusiasm. “I sell junk, mostly, odds and ends, but there's a few bits of tech the Brotherhood boys might be interested in.”

“Don't think we've met before,” Lucas remarked. “What brings you all the way out here? I take it you're not from the Commonwealth.”

Cartwright laughed.

“You're right about that, my friend. We came up here from the Capital Wasteland.”

Lucas couldn't keep the surprise from his face.

“That's quite a way to travel for a pile of junk,” he said, in spite of himself. “Just those odds and ends bringing you out here?”

This time Cartwright shook his head.

“No, not really. Wouldn't have journeyed this far, but an old friend called in a favor. You know Daisy? From Goodneighbor?”

Lucas nodded. He knew her; the Pre-War Ghoul who ran Daisy's Discounts, although he rarely frequented Goodneighbor, where the locals were more interested in chems and ammunition than armor.

“Then you'll know how persuasive she can be,” said Cartwright, with a chuckle. “No saying no to a woman like that, is there? So I promised her we - ”

The woman standing beside him gave him a sharp look. If her eyes had narrowed a little more, her expression might have nailed him to the ground.

“They told us not to talk about why we're here,” she reminded him. Her voice was less pointed than her expression, but the hint of danger was unmistakable; there was a flash of steel in the violet-blue eyes. “Mercenaries out there, remember? Gunners, or whatever they call themselves. If that guy reports back to them and they find out why we're here, then we're in a whole world of trouble.”

Lucas shook his head at that. Gunners were, on the whole, bad for business. Angering them somehow seemed like an even worse commercial decision.

“I won't ask, then,” he said firmly. “I stay out of the affairs of others. No good comes of it.”

This time the woman gave him a friendlier look; still cool, but more appreciative.

“Smart man. Sorry. Nothing personal, but the instructions we had were pretty clear. All we want is a nod in the right direction.”

“I think I can help with that,” Lucas volunteered. “Where is it you're wanting to go?”

The woman paused to roll up her sleeve. There was a Pip-Boy on her wrist; a rare sight, thought Lucas, although the Vault suit now made more sense. There was a trading post at Vault 81, one of the few that still functioned and hadn't killed its Pre-War inhabitants in the process, and a few regulars came out to barter for goods they needed. Those Vault-dwellers tended not to travel too far from their home, although the General herself hadn't been able to get out of hers fast enough. Frozen, they'd said, before the war; what a world she'd emerged into, and how different it must have been from the one she'd left behind.

“Sanctuary,” she said, after checking an entry on the screen. “Or Sanctuary Hills. Heights. Something like that.”

“Sanctuary Hills?” Lucas suggested. “That the one you mean?”

The woman made an irritable noise, and waved her hand impatiently.

“Whatever. Close enough. But yeah, that's where we're going. We have a delivery we need to make.”

“Special delivery!” the little boy said proudly, from atop the Brahmin's back. “That's me!”

The woman smiled, perhaps a bit distantly, and ruffled the kid's hair.

“Yeah, that's you. Good job, kiddo, you've told everyone we met so far. So much for not talking to strangers. Your dad's not going to be pleased with me if we run into anyone who's not the friendly type.”

“You don't need to worry about that, miss,” Lucas' older guard assured her. “The Minutemen don't take kindly to folk who harass travelers on the road, and that goes double for kids. Mess with someone's child, steal them away or what have you, and the General will get to hear about it. You might be worried about mercenaries, but trust me, they're more worried about her.”

The young woman smirked.

“Hmm. And I thought Talon Company were scared of me back home. Sounds like this General is a woman to be reckoned with.”

“You'll reckon with her soon enough,” said Lucas, raising his eyebrows. “Sanctuary is her home and it's well-guarded. Turrets and watch towers and the like. You mind yourself when you visit and be sure to make a proper introduction. Strangers who won't give their names aren't the welcome kind.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Fine. If she wants to know who I am that badly, I'll be sure to tell her. Now can you tell us how to get there?”

“That I can,” Lucas told her. “Here, let me see that Pip-Boy of yours. I'll mark it on your map.”

The younger of his two guards muttered something to the other about Colonel Garvey, and the other let out a small chuckle. Lucas ignored them, and studied the screen, patterned in green and black. The topography seemed less familiar from above than it did at eye level, but he followed the road until he saw some landmarks he recognized.

“Concord's that way, and then the Red Rocket station. Follow the road up north and cross the Old North Bridge. It's dead ahead, you can't miss it.”

“Thanks,” said the woman, as he let go of her arm again. “Appreciate the help, Mr. Miller.”

“Not a problem. Any armor for you today?”

She shook her head.

“No, thanks. I think we're good.”

Lucas shook his head too. He'd been selling his wares to wastelanders for many years, and it was the bold and foolish ones who went away empty-handed. Still, there was something in the woman's expression that suggested that it would be more foolish still to try to grab her unawares, and there were subtle hints in the way she moved that suggested that her blue-and-yellow Vault jumpsuit had already been customized to her liking, and that she was more than adequately armed and armored.

“As you say. Well, safe travels then,” he concluded. “Good luck with whatever it is you're here to do. And give my regards to Daisy, when you see her.”

“Thanks, we will,” said Cartwright, with a friendly gesture. “Good to meet you, Lucas. And travel safe yourself. Perhaps we'll see each other again on the road.”

They parted ways, and the caravan moved on ahead of them, faster now that they were moving with more purpose. Lucas heard the little boy pipe up:

“Will we see Daddy soon?”

“Don't worry, Duncan, we're almost there,” she said casually. “They said he'll be there waiting for you. Been a while, too, hasn't it? I bet he can't wait to see you again…”

Their voices were already fading on the wind, dwindling in the distance as they followed the road and disappeared over the hill. Lucas shrugged, and gave his Brahmin a gentle nudge.

“Don't mind them, Ol' Girl. They're just passing through. Off we go now, there's a good girl.”

The Brahmin made some vaguely displeased noises and swished her tail a few times, but started to lumber off in the right direction again, unfazed by the goods on her back and the steeper incline as they followed their usual path.

As they climbed up the hill, Lucas caught another glimpse of the travelers from the Capital Wasteland; a long way to travel, he thought, and an even longer journey back if they hoped to avoid the greenish clouds that were already rumbling ominously over the Glowing Sea. It seemed a great deal of effort to go to, just to bring a small child all the way out here.

Still, he thought, as he turned his gaze toward the small cluster of shacks and caught sight of the bright blue Minutemen flag waving above Tenpines Bluff, they probably had their reasons.

[kathyprior4200]

Zoophobia: The Remix

All characters, art, and settings belong to Vivziepop/Vivienne Medrano, no copyright intended. https://zoophobiacomic.com/

Chapter One: “Cameron’s Early Years”

“Greetings. My name is Salvia, a human staff member at Zoo Phoenix Academy. Don’t mind my thick red hair, it often covers my face. I love romance films and novels and I play violin. I also have extensive knowledge of psychic powers and prophecy. Me having existed since ancient times could explain it.”

 “Let me tell you an incredible, albeit bizarre story about the world I’m from. It is what mortals call ’Zoophobia.’ First, a provenance about said world…”

 “Safe Haven…it is a sanctuary, an oasis for animals, anthropomorphic beings and other creatures. The Zoo Phoenix Academy is part of it. We sustain ourselves here…and serve as a utopia and protected escape for all kinds of creatures that are ostracized by the human-dominated world beyond the Oceania Forest. That is why there are so few humans here.”

 “Safe Haven is split into seven districts and each district has an important purpose and contributes to the society as a whole. The Animal District, Capital City, the wealthy E! District, Marine District, Avian District, the Farming District and the District of Magic. (Do not go to Xirxine Labs, they do horrible experiments on beings deemed ‘troublesome.’) Pacts were made and spells were cast to prohibit malevolent forces from entering the boundaries of Safe Haven. But to maintain the peace and tranquility of this thriving culture, very specific rules were put into effect by the original peacekeepers who founded Safe Haven.”

 “Evil forces include evil spirits, rogue vampires, true demons, and blood hunters. (And don’t forget many of the entitled angels in Heaven, they can be deceiving.) The laws here are strict and they keep the dangers out, while keeping the citizens inside and safe. But this is why no living being is permitted to leave for good. It goes against the pacts that protect us. And breaking those pacts could lead to the corruption of the magic that shields us. Without magic, we would be at the mercy of not only dark monsters, but also outside humans who have wanted to hunt us all down. We would be overcome with the dark forces that have been wanting to enter Safe Haven for centuries.”

 “Safe Haven has not had a violent crime or a dangerous predator in years, and we do everything we can to keep it that way. But one circumstance changed all that we knew.”

 “This story first begins in the human world…and follows an ordinary female by the name of Cameron Walden…”

 0 0 0

 “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?”

 “Coming, mommy!”

 A jubilant fair-haired girl jumped for joy before dragging her small suitcase behind her down the hall. She was around six years old and her hair was slightly messy. Her golden-brown-haired mother looked at her with loving eyes.

 “What will we do on our camping trip today?” little Cameron asked eagerly.

 “Hmm,” she said. “Last year we went canoeing at the lake and made crafts out of sticks. Remember when we roasted marshmallows under the stars?”

 “Oh yes!” Cameron said. “Those snores were delicious!”

 “I think you mean s’mores,” her mother chuckled. “Your face and hands were so sticky afterwards. You looked like a goopy little monster.” She playfully pinched her cheeks and made a funny face as Cameron giggled.

 “But I’m thinking this year, we’ll do some of your favorite activities. I know how much you enjoy fishing.”

 “Oh yay!” Cameron cheered. “I remember daddy catching at least two. And I got to feel their smooth scaly skin. Glad he let them go at the end.”

 “He might teach you this time. But you’ll have to be patient.”

 “Don’t worry, I will…maybe.”

 Her mother chuckled again. “Let’s go, your dad is waiting for us.”

 Cameron’s father also had white skin and golden brown hair, except he had a scruffy beard that he often let Cameron feel. His eyes were kind and thoughtful and a Christian cross necklace hung around his neck. All of them wore casual jeans, brown hiking shoes and shirts of gray.

 Soon, Cameron and her family piled into their car and Cameron’s father drove them through the city streets. The city was dull and gray, reminiscent of New York City but without the splendor. But even the smoggy city didn’t deter Cameron’s excitement. During the long drive to the woods, Cameron and her family sang some songs, played I Spy and that game where you call out a word and then have to call another word that starts with the end letter.

 “Salad,” said Cameron’s father.

 “Diver,” said her mother.

 “River,” Cameron said.

 “Ratable,” said her father.

 “Uh, lion!” said her mother.

 “Ha! You lose!” said her father.

 “No fair! Ratable has a silent ‘e.’ You cheated!”

 Her father just shrugged playfully and winked at Cameron before focusing back on the road.

 “Why’d I space out like that?” her mother mumbled.

 They entered through the woods, trees surrounding either side as they rushed by. The dullness of the city faded behind them as greenery whizzed to life as they drove.

 “Have you ever thought about what you want to be when you grow up?” her mother asked.

 “I don’t know,” Cameron answered. “But I do want to help people and make the world a better place!”

 “Great spirit you have there,” her father remarked. “Anything in particular?”

 “Maybe…a counselor! Or a zookeeper! Or maybe a marine biologist! Surely it can’t be that hard comforting animals and humans the same!”

 “Well,” her mother began. “I know how much you love animals, especially fish. But humans are more…complex creatures. You need to have good listening skills in order to start. And…” she said in a singsong voice, “That means making friends!”

 Cameron groaned. She was quite shy, even in her youth.

 “I know it can be hard,” said her mother. “But you can’t expect to be alone forever. There are so many different individuals out there. And it’s true some of them may be...strange at first glance."

 “What if they…don’t like me or hurt me?”

 “No one would hurt you,” she said. “If they did, I’d make them run for the hills. Plus no one could possibly dislike such a sweet angel like yourself. Just take it one step at a time. You’ll find someone special to love. And I know you will be confident and successful one day, whatever you decide to do.”

 Cameron smiled at the thought as they continued down a dirt path. Her mother had always wanted her to be happy above all else. The car swayed and bounced as they went deeper in. At last, they found their favorite camping spot and parked. It was a pleasant area with a few pine trees, a wooden bench and a small ledge overlooking a nearby lake. As Cameron’s father pitched the tent and gathered wood, Cameron and her mother gazed at the nearby lake. Sunlight shimmered and sparkled on the water, mesmerizing Cameron. A few ducks quacked off to the side and horsetail reeds swayed in the cool breeze. A dragonfly zoomed in and out among the reeds, occasionally touching the liquid surface. It was a relief to get away from the city and into the much cleaner fresh air.

 After a fun day of hiking (Cameron identified several types of leaves and tracks), hide and seek (Cameron climbed a small tree but was found anyway) and fishing (Cameron caught one small fish), they had an early evening dinner over the fire. Cameron inhaled the scent of sizzling bratwurst and hamburgers as the meat cooked. A few stars had already appeared as the sun painted the sky orange and gold. The meat was delicious and slightly overcooked. Then they had s’mores for dessert.

 “Aw man,” groaned her father as he stared at his blackened marshmallow on a stick, “I overdid mine.” Then he grinned playfully and proceeded to eat it.

 “Gross!” Cameron remarked with a face. “How can you eat that?”

 “A marshmallow is a marshmallow,” he said with a shrug.

 Cameron’s marshmallow was a perfect golden brown in between the chocolate pieces and graham crackers. Cameron’s mother had her marshmallow plain white.

 After the satisfying meal, Cameron was eager to explore some more. “Can we go on a quick hike, Dad?” she asked. “It’s not as hot now.” A refreshing breeze caressed her skin.

 Her dad nodded. “There’s still some light out. We can look around and gaze at the stars too.”

 “Just don’t go too far,” added her mother. “And take a flashlight with you.”

 “See you shortly,” called her father as he took Cameron’s hand and began their nightly hike. Cameron’s mother waved with a smile while sitting on a log and finishing her dinner. The fire crackled brightly.

 By now, the sky has turned a dark indigo. The moonlight lit the path in front of them but they were still careful not to trip over any stray sticks, holes or rocks. Along the way, they spotted a rabbit, several squirrels, and even a stag hidden among the trees. The natural world was a wondrous place for Cameron. She and her father eventually relaxed on a cool boulder, naming the various constellations above them.

 “This is the best camping trip ever, Dad!” Cameron smiled.

 “It sure has been lots of fun, kiddo,” her father smiled. For a while, they let themselves be mesmerized by the twinkling stars and the comforting sound of the still night air. Then all too soon, he sat up and said, “We should head on back. After all, an overnight sleepover never gets old.”

 “Yeah, let’s go!” said Cameron. She let out a yawn and was looking forward to being warm in her cozy sleeping bag. They got off the rock and walked back hand in hand.

 As they wondered the trails back toward camp, the forest was quiet. Eerily quiet. There were no bird songs or bugs or even the swaying of the wind. Even with the flashlight and moonlight, it grew much darker than before. Cameron grew silent and scooted closer to her father as they walked. A prickling feeling crept up to her neck…she felt like something was watching her. With every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves, she flinched slightly.

 “Are there m-monsters out here?” she asked, almost in a whisper.

 “Don’t be concerned. Other than the devil and wild animals, monsters don’t exist. Everything is fine,” her father assured her.

 Cameron grew less and less convinced as they continued their trek. Shadows flickered and warped this way and that, a trick of the eyes. Cameron whimpered softly. Something tall loomed up ahead. A large tree was in front of them, larger than the other trees around. It looked like an ancient oak tree with hanging branches and a worn down trunk. Cyan fog surrounded the tree and the area, giving it an enigmatic and ominous feel.

 A low hooting sound came from nearby. Cameron glanced at a black hole in the tree, at her eye-level. A smaller branch stuck off to the side of it. She peered inside and didn’t see anything.

 But then…a pair of glowing yellow eyes blinked from inside. And a white owl emerged onto the branch! She shined her flashlight at it and it didn’t flinch. Just stared intently.

 Cameron had never seen such a majestic creature before. It had white feathers, tiny black spots on its coat and a sharp hooked beak. But there was something peculiar about this owl. Looking closely, Cameron could make out zig-zag yellow stripes down the front of its body. And its eyes…they were big and yellow like an owl’s but seemed…older. Instead of being a single color, the large orbs glowed yellow with dark stripes like a bumblebee. It almost appeared as if the lines in the eyes were moving. Strange small jagged eyelashes jutted out from the sides of the orbs. The owl eyed Cameron like she was an innocent mouse; she did not like the look at all.

 Cameron blinked and for a millisecond, she saw a bizarre being; what looked like a bird but with the head of a woman with white blonde hair and pale skin. Before she could comprehend what it was (a harpy), it had turned back into an owl in the blink of an eye. After letting out an ominous hoot, it vanished into the hole as Cameron’s father called her name. She hurried off to catch up to him.

 Cameron shook her head, convinced it was just her fearful imagination. No owl would come out and look through her like that.

 A strange sense of foreboding flowed through Cameron. She and her father quickened their pace.

  Back at camp, a low growling sound grew steadily louder.

 Growl. Crunch. Crunch. Tap. Tap. Tap.

 The sounds of steps and shuffling grew closer. Cameron’s mother looked around, holding a bratwurst in one hand.

 Grooooowwwlll….snort, snort.

 Hot breath on neck. Snapping of twigs.

 Cameron’s mother slowly turned around, meeting large dark eyes…

 A scream echoed out into the night, almost paralyzing Cameron in her tracks.

 “Dad?”

  It was shrill and pleading…and then it rang out again.

 Longer lasting screams and roars seemed to be coming from everywhere. The world seemed to be spinning.

 “What was that?!” Cameron cried.

 “I don’t know, but I have a feeling we need to get back,” said her father with concern. For the first time, he appeared sacred as well.

 Without hesitation, her father grabbed hold of her hand and raced as fast as his legs could carry him. Cameron briefly tripped over a log but her father picked her up. A sudden gust of biting wind pushed against them, but they still ran. They flinched from the sudden cold and the dust that flew in their faces. It drowned out the screams until they faded away. The wind came to a howling peak and then halted as they reached the clearing.

 Her father suddenly gasped and froze to a stop, Cameron almost bumping into him. His flashlight fell to the ground. There was the tangy smell of…Cameron figured it wasn’t the cooked dinner they had.

 “Stay back, Cameron!” her father ordered sharply, pushing her behind him. “And don’t watch!”

 But of course she did…then wished she hadn’t.

 Standing over a figure in the dirt was a monstrous brown bear. The bear bared his sharp teeth, paw on its food, mouth caked with blood. Tearing and squelching was heard. Crimson splotches looked jarring in the limited light. And underneath the bear was…

 “M-mom?!”

 In one swift motion, her father retrieved a gun he had safely secured behind him and took aim.

 Bang! Bang!

 Several shots rang out, deafening like bombs. Cameron covered her ears and yelped. A primal bellow of protest followed. The bear roared one last time before bounding and stomping away. Bush leaves rustled as a few more shots rang out. Her father yelled curses and raced toward where the bear had left.

 Creeping closer, Cameron sank to her knees and stared in disbelief. It was her mother…or what was left of her. Her face was ashen, dirty and pale, scratches all along her body. Her back and belly had disastrous bites, thick dark red blood oozing onto the grassy ground. Muscle and viscera were visible from the gashes.

 Cameron turned her mother’s face around and was met with guttural heaving breaths. The unnatural agonizing kind right before death.

 “Oh god, oh god, oh god…” Cameron muttered, voice cracking, eyes wide. “Somebody help! Help!” The smell made her gag, but she still stayed.

 Her mother’s eyes fluttered. She slowly reached a pale shaking hand toward Cameron. Cameron moved closer as both their hands met. The cold clammy hand squeezed her little fingers.

 “S-safe Haven…” she wheezed, staring long and hard into Cameron’s eyes. “You’ll do…g-great things. Unite them all. Stay safe, safe…”

 “Mom, w-what do you mean? Safe Haven, what?”

 “My a-angel…”

 Her mother wheezed and croaked again before her hand went limp, letting go of Cameron’s fingers. Her mother gave her one last kind look before her eyes glazed over. She had stopped moving. Nothing but cold flesh, blood and a lifeless form.  

 “Mom? Mom! Mooooom!!!”

 Cameron’s father pulled her back a bit. Without a word, Cameron’s father cradled his wife’s body as Cameron buried her face in her bloodstained clothes.

 Her father pulled her back a bit after gently lowing her mother to the ground. He closed her eyes with his fingers. She looked like she was asleep, even though she wasn’t. (Or if she was, it was eternal and dreamless. Or maybe she was already in Heaven; Cameron didn’t know). Cameron and her father stood silently still, embracing each other. Tears rolled down their faces, Cameron’s primal sobs echoing through the night. Her hands were stained with leftover blood. After about ten minutes of utter grief, her father looked at her.

 “Cameron, get in the car.”

 “W-why?”

 “Just do it.”

 A sternness and aloofness look appeared on his face, a look Cameron had never seen him make in front of her. The bright color and spark in his eyes had been snuffed out. Without waiting for another answer, her father picked her up, carried her over to the car and placed her in the back seat. The door closed. From outside, the fire was put out, leaving only dying embers and sad orange sparks. The light gray smoke curled into spirals, doing somber dances in the breeze before vanishing.

 Cameron waited in the back seat, curled up into a ball. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Her mother had been mauled by a bear before her eyes…and she could’ve been next! The ruthless face of the bear would haunt her memories for many years. Not long after, she saw flashes of red and blue light through the dirt-spotted windows. Her mother’s body was covered by a white sheet and taken on a stretcher by medics who had driven by. Fortunately, they still had decent cell phone service. Without another word, her father packed up the tent and all their belongings, tossing them in the back. He got in the driver’s seat and took them home on a long solemn drive.

 0 0 0

The funeral went as well as one would expect. Prayers and condolences were spoken and family members talked in hushed tones, all wearing black. Cameron glanced around passively at the stained glass church windows, sad and bored at the proceedings. Her mother’s coffin was gently lowered into the ground afterwards. Vivid flowers were placed everywhere; red, pink, white, yellow and purple. Being so young, Cameron later didn’t remember the funeral at all. All she knew was that an important part of her life had vanished.

 She and her father were never the same afterwards. As Cameron grew up and went to the dismal public school, he became preoccupied with his work. She hardly saw him much anymore. They grew distant, not in a bad way but similar to how different friends grow apart when their interests take them down new paths.

 Cameron went to therapy for a while, with Mrs. Winkler, a kind old lady. But the sessions didn’t seem to help. For one thing, Cameron’s fear of animals grew worse each passing year. The fact that she had taken a trip to the zoo with her father only deepened it.

 Her father had hoped that a new trip would cheer her up. But the animals would scare her as they roared and pawed at her through the glass when she watched. No one noticed a glowing golden apple which appeared in the exhibits…it let out light and made strange humming noises. The animals all threw themselves menacingly at Cameron with roars, hisses, and growls: Lions, tigers, bears, cheetahs…But it wasn’t just the predatory animals that somehow grew agitated at her. The flamingos squawked nosily, the gators snapped their jaws, and the monkeys would laugh and throw food at her which bounced off the cage wall. The sharks and birds, and oh goodness, the snakes too. The only animals that didn’t appear to pay her any attention were the fish. They just swam around and around as if nothing happened.

 Strangely enough, her father didn’t notice.

 “What has gotten into you, Cam?” he asked in disbelief after she screamed and sobbed. “Those animals aren’t attacking you.”

 “Y-yes they are!” she cried. “Didn’t you see?”

 But no one else seemed to notice either. They were just smiling and observing the animals like regular visitors. And the animals were doing their normal routines. A few people gave Cameron looks and raised their eyebrows.

 Her father pulled her close. “You’re almost a teenager. Stop acting like a sacred child.”

 “I-I know what I saw!” she sobbed. “I know it!”

 Her father sighed and merely said, “Let’s go home.”

 Cameron lowered her head. She used to enjoy the zoo more than anything…now she had an unbreakable fear of animals. (It had gotten bad to the point where she didn’t even want any pets.)

 Cameron didn’t see a grinning yellow face with matching eyes blending within the trees when she left the zoo. Nor did she hear its high pitched cackle. A slender hand held up a golden apple and the illusions replayed.

 Another thing that didn’t help was school. Cameron was smart enough in class (especially in literature) but was often bullied for her meekness. Many of the bullies would make animal sounds and jump at her from behind corners.

 “Look how sacred she is!” they would mock. “Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? And everything else in existence? Lamb Cam!”

 “Don’t call me that!” she spat. “It’s Cameron!”

 “Scram, Cam! Scaredy cat! Scaredy cat! Mrrow!”

 And the creepers too as she became a teen.

 “Ride me like an animal, Cam! Damn!”

 “Are you a turtle, dearie? Cause I’d love to fly through your tender shell…”

 “You must be a kitty cat, ‘cause you’ve got some fine pus…”

 “Don’t you finish that sentence!”

 After finally graduating high school hell, Cameron went to college. After hard work, she got her degree in Guidance Counseling. She figured she’d stray away from animals and gear more toward helping members of her own species. Helping others was her purpose…and getting her degree was a great accomplishment. Friends and boyfriends came and went. She soon lived on her own.  

 Getting a job, however…much easier said than done. No matter where Cameron looked or how many interviews she went to, they all seemed to dismiss her.

 “I’m sorry, you don’t have the right qualifications we’re looking for.”

 “We are currently reaching out to other applicants at this time. Thank you for your interest.”

 “No social skills…no experience…hmm…not quite fit for this position.”

 They always changed their minds at the last minute. Cameron never understood why.

 Cameron buried her face in her hands in her room. The fear and sorrow would never go away. The gray skies and the pattering of rain over the glum city matched her mood. She was now twenty-five years old, unemployed, and utterly alone.

 Her last hope was a new job position offered to her by a lady with white blonde hair. She had given Cameron her business card and office address: “KayCee: guidance counselor position interview, 12:00 sharp tomorrow.”

 Another failed interview, but she figured she’d give it a try.

 And then her nightmares. The nightmares that always seemed to come back. They were always the same. Cameron racing through the forest, being chased by every animal and mythical creature in existence. The gnashing of teeth, swipes of paws, being chewed on and swallowed into darkness. Then, thinking it was all over, she’d wake up…

 …only to see her mother’s dead body on the floor in front of her.

 “Monster! Monster!” a shadowy crowd chanted, surrounding her. But they were pointing their fingers at her, their glowing white eyes accusing.

 “No! No, I’m not a monster!” Cameron cried, looking down. Her mother’s head snapped up and her eyes were yellow and black stripes, eyelashes curling out on all sides. “Monster!” She let out a crazed laugh, white teeth sharp, tongue out, eyes rolling back.

 Cameron felt herself falling, falling, being watched by dozens of eyes. Eyes, eyes everywhere. Staring into her reflection, she gasped and screamed in horror. She saw her frightened blonde face, but her body consisted of white feathers, talon feet, a thin neck and bat-like wings. She was a harpy. An abomination…becoming what she feared itself.

 More screams as she fell down, down, her black pupils growing wider…

 0 0 0

Cameron’s pupils shrank back as she lay on her back on a couch. She wore a business casual light gray shirt and a dark skirt. A back headband sat on her golden brown hair, while a few strands hung from either side of her freckled face. The walls were stark gray on all sides. A lone palm frond plant sat in a pot to the side. A grandfather clock ticked quietly in the room, the pendulum swinging from side to side in rhythm.

 “I had that dream again…it was so vivid this time,” Cameron told Mrs. Winkler.

 “Perhaps your upcoming job assignment played a part in that?” The elder Mrs. Winkler suggested. The therapist wore a gray dress and took notes on a clipboard.

 “Maybe,” said Cameron. “But why that dream? I haven’t had it in so long. It was just…so unexpected.”

 Cameron sat up. “It was like reliving the whole thing. And bringing back all those memories.” She shuddered slightly, glancing off to the side. “I mean, I’ve been stressed out lately but…I’ve never had that dream so suddenly…”

 “Well, dear…” the therapist began, looking at her clipboard. “It sounds to me like…”

 Cameron glanced up at the clock, which chimed 12:00.

 “Oh! Oh my god, I’m late!” she cried. She leaned in, hands clasped. “Thank you so, so much for listening, Mrs. Winkler! Wish me luck!”

 Cameron grabbed her handbag, turned the doorknob and hurried out of the room. “Taxi!” she yelled as she bounded out of the building and down the steps. The rain poured down as she got in. She soon arrived at the other building.

 Inside the office, a voice came over through the PA with a bzzt.

 “Ms. KayCee. The 12 0’ clock is here…late.”

 “Send her in,” replied the woman. She had a tan face, long white hair and narrowed eyes that appeared to glow. She wore a gray business suit and a green pendant around her neck. She sat at her desk with an apple and a pencil holder off to the side. She glanced down at some paperwork in front of her, pen in hand. Rain pattered from outside the window.

 Cameron appeared in the doorway. “I’m so sorry I’m late!”

 “Come in,” said the woman.

 Cameron caught her breath and hustled over to the desk. “I uh…lost track of time.”

 “It’s quite…alright…”

 The woman glanced up in surprise, noticing Cameron’s wet hair.

 “It’s, heh…r-raining outside…” Cameron stuttered nervously, making a gesture.

 “Take a seat please,” said KayCee. “So we can begin to discuss your placement with this program.”

 Cameron lowered herself into a chair.

 “Again, so sorry for being late,” Cameron said.

 “It’s alright,” KayCee replied.

 Cameron nervously glanced off to the side. KayCee stared intently at Cameron, a faint yellow glow around her eyes. She rested her chin on her hands.

 Cameron raised an eyebrow, a faint chill racing through her body. “Do…I know you from some…”

 “Yes,” KayCee cut her off.

 Cameron knew that KayCee didn’t want to get into the déjà vu moments. After a brief moment of staring, KayCee cleared her throat and looked at the forms in front of her.

 “Well looking at your report and resume, I wasn’t able to find a suitable position for you. We don’t seem to have a vacant job here with need of your skills…”

 ‘Oh no. Not again,’ Cameron thought with dread.

 “I’m afraid there is not much I could do…”

 Cameron leaned forward and put her arms and elbows on the desk in a begging position. “Please! I really need this job! I have been waiting for an assignment for so long, there has to be something!”

 Lightning flashed and thunder cracked from outside as KayCee looked over the form again.

 KayCee observed the form. It read “Classified” in bold letters at the top. “Needed positions” “Possible applicants” were shown. “Guidance Counselor” was heavily circled underneath it. Off to the side read: “Agreement to transfer required.” “Must be informed of where.” Below was a “job applicants” list.

 “Well…” KayCee began. “You do have a degree in counseling, do you not?”

 “Yes! I do!” Cameron said. She didn’t even question how this lady knew that fact. “I’ll take it! Please!”

 “It’s a transfer position, it would require relocation,” KayCee mentioned.

 Cameron stood up and leaned into her face. “I’ll take it! Wherever it is, I’ll take it!”

 “Very well then,” said KayCee. “A private jet will take you from this building on Thursday, 9:00. I suggest you pack all your things.”

 Cameron raced over and hugged her. “Yes! Oh yes! Thank you!” KayCee’s eyes briefly turned white with glowing yellow stripes. She narrowed her normal eyes and deadpanned, “Don’t be late.”

 “Oh I won’t!” Cameron declared, stepping back. She put her hands together. “Thank you so much!”

 “You are quite welcome, Ms. Walden,” KayCee said, reaching for the red apple.

 “Oh! Call me Cameron!” Cameron took her bag and opened the door. “Thanks again!” she called before shutting the door with a click.

 “Hm, hm, hm, hm, hm,” KayCee chuckled lowly. Her fingers grew crooked and her black nails grew sharp. The apple in her hand vibrated and a golden spiral emerged from the center. Soon the apple was golden and glowing in her hand. KayCee lounged on her desk, knocking over the pencils in the holder off the desk with a foot.

 “No Ms. Cameron…” She then spoke in a high pitched echoing shrill, “Thank you!”

 In a flash of magic, KayCee had turned into her true form. A being with wild white poufy hair that sizzled with white electricity strands. She wore a white dress with holes in them. She grinned a sinister grin of sharp golden teeth. Her black and yellow striped eyes and long jagged eyelashes made her appearance all the more untamed. She let out an evil maniacal laugh.

 0 0 0

 “Salvia here again. As you probably have figured out, KayCee is no ordinary human. She is Eris, the Greek Goddess of Strife and Chaos. For she was the one who tossed the Golden Apple of Discord to provoke arguments between Aphrodite, Athena and Hera over who was the fairest goddess. Paris of Troy chose Aphrodite, igniting the Trojan War. Eris, along with Jestine and some other deities, exist to cause discord, nightmares and all sorts of trouble. KayCee/Eris indeed, sent Cameron to Safe Haven, knowing full well that she had no knowledge about the denizens of the destination. Her plan is thus: with Cameron fearing the animal residents and Safe Haven having been discovered by an outsider, the magic protecting it weakens over time. Eris hopes the barriers will eventually break, resulting in war and mass murders from the dark forces…and the humans. For the more chaos there is, the more her power grows. And she won’t stop until every world becomes her chaotic playground.”

 “None of us knows what Eris truly wants, but one thing is for sure. Cameron and all of us have to keep our guard up. Eris thrives on manipulation, deceit and black sorcery. To her, the apocalypse is an entertaining musical.”

 “For now, we continue our story of Cameron, who soon departs her hometown and embarks on her journey toward Safe Haven…”

 Chapter Two: “Cameron’s Arrival to Safe Haven” 

 It wasn’t long before Cameron arrived outside the building where she had her meeting with KayCee. The sky was clear but smoggy with tan pollution. The city silhouette stood in the background. She soon spotted the jet…which looked more like a dull forest green plane. The plane was old-fashioned with a propeller in the front and two wings on either side of the craft. It was dull green in color and decorated with black stripes. Cameron wore her usual gray clothes and carried her suitcase. At the ramp of steps, a figure stood waiting for her.

 “I’ve never been on a private j…plane, before. Are you the pilot, Miss…?”

 “Snake.” The woman answered in a low voice.

 “Snake?” Cameron asked in confusion.

 The woman had light green skin and strangled forest green hair decorated with dark specks. A pair of sunglasses rested on her head. She wore a green tank top, an emerald green scarf and a green-gray skirt. Long elbow-length gloves covered her hands and a white cigarette was in her mouth.

 “Interesting name,” said Cameron. “Does it mean anything?”

 Snake did not answer.

 Cameron continued, “Because I have never heard of someone naming a child something like that.”

 Had Cameron been anyone else, she would’ve gotten a harsh slap for the insult. Instead, Snake crossed her arms, holding her cigarette between two fingers. “Save the jaw-flappin’ fer later, hunny. I don’t wanna fly with a headache.” She dropped her cigarette and crushed it with her green high heel on the ground.

 Cameron flinched. “Oh! I-I’m sorry! I’m just a bit anxious…”

 Cameron walked up the steps and into the aircraft. “Going to new places and everything, ya know?”

 “Sure,” Snake answered with disinterest. “Just put a sock in it ‘till we get there.”

 Snake sat down and pulled various levers and pressed buttons. The plane was soon off the ground and flying over the city. The propeller spun fast and they zoomed away. Cameron sat nervously in her seat. ‘I hope this was a good idea,’ she thought to herself. ‘There’s no turning back now…’

 As the plane swooped over a vast forest, a spectral form of KayCee/Eris grinned mischievously against a large boulder, watching the plane. The sun rose over the hill in front of them, a promise of a new life and adventure.

 Snake piloted the plane, sunglasses over her eyes, lost in thought. She briefly cleaned her teeth with a toothpick in one hand, going around her two white fangs.

 Snake was in fact, a loner and shapeshifter, who could transform into a green snake at will. One of her friends was Taxi, a yellow werewolf who worked as a cab driver, mechanic…and merrymaker. She would drive monster trucks around while Snake would fly and fix various planes. The two of them bonded over their love of machines, smoking and drinking. Snake was also a secret agent in Safe Haven, skilled with guns and weapons. Her skills in stealth were so great, that she was soon hired by the Zoo Phoenix Academy staff to travel to the human world to retrieve recruits.  

 Snake, Taxi and Taxi’s werewolf friends would often party, drink and get into trouble. Although Snake had enjoyed it, she also was not proud that she had killed other people on the streets. So in a way, this job was fine with her.

 But then Cameron broke the tranquil silence.

 “Wow! I didn’t know the forest was this big,” she exclaimed. “We’ve been flying over it for hours…it’s like, endless!”

 Snake scoffed. “Yeah…why ya think it’s called the f*ckin’ “Oceania” Forest, hm? ‘Cause it’s big. What’d I say about talkin’?”

 Honk!

 Honk!

 Cameron looked out the window with a loud gasp. “Oh my…” A giant sky blue bird was honking outside her window. It was larger than any regular bird she had seen.

 “Snake!” Cameron wailed out loud, making Snake flinch. “T-there’s a giant bird outside the window!” Cameron grabbed onto her.

 “What?” Snake asked.

 “G-giant bird! It was huge…giant…! What if it attacks the plane?!”

 “Get back to yer seat!” Snake yelled, baring her fangs.

 ‘Snakes on a plane!’ Cameron thought in fear, after spotting her fangs.

 Cameron obliged and looked out the window. The bird was gone.

 ‘Great, now I’m seeing things…’ she thought.

 The sun set outside, turning the sky pink and yellow. Cameron sat, bored. She fell asleep as night fell. The next day, Cameron woke up, sunlight shining through the window.

 Snake was nowhere to be seen.

 “Hello?”

 She stood up and walked down the dark empty aisle.

 “Uh…what’s going on?”

 No answer.

 “S-Snake?!”

 Cameron looked out the window and saw a bunch of shadowy creatures outside.

 “Oh god.”

 Trying to be brave, she peered out the window.

 “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god…”

 “Surprise!” hollered the bizarre creatures.

 Cameron walked down the steps, stunned. There were so many strange new faces, she couldn’t keep track. Fabian the fox, Perci and Malcom the red and green dragons, Carrie the blonde demon, Zechariah the cheetah, Principal Winston the one with the yellow squid head, a teal eel with a monocle, a person with orange and yellow hair, a midnight blue stag, a yellow fox, and Salvia too. All the Zoo Phoenix Academy staff were there to welcome her.

 Cameron stared off into space, seeing the creatures. Was this some kind of prank? Were these just people in costumes trying to bully her again?

 Just then, Perci the dragon got into her face and said, “Welcome to the zoo, Cameron Walden! Well—hah! Of course it isn’t really a zoo! Sorta ironic that I just called it that, really! Hahahaha!”

 Cameron gulped. She felt like it was a zoo…a dangerous wacky one with escaped mythical creatures. Perci put an arm around her. The eel shook her hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear!”

 Were these really talking animals?

 A strong hand lifted up Cameron’s arm as a tough light gray face with blonde hair inspected her.

 “She sure is a scrawny-gangly-shaky li’ thing, ain’t she?” Carrie remarked in a gruff voice.

 “Oh nonsense Carrie,” said Fabian the red fox. “I think Ms. Cameron looks perfectly fine.” He gave her a wink and a sultry look, Cameron cringing in disgust. Was that fox hitting on her?

 “I’ll take your word on that, Fabian!” called the blind green dragon teacher Malcom. His hair was black, skin light green. He walked up to her. “Good evening? Morning? Day!”

 There was a brief silence.

 “How about a kiss, pretty lady?” Fabian cooed, getting close to her with his tongue.

 “Eeeeiiiiahhhhhhee!”

 Cameron screamed at the top of her lungs. “S-stay back! A-all of you! Don’t come any closer!”

 The animals glared at her, teeth showing. Any moment, they would pounce on her. For several moments, Cameron could only hear growls, slurps, mutters and hisses.

 The cheetah rumbled in thought as the squid principal slurped his tea loudly beside him.

 Cameron took more steps back. “I-I mean it! Stay away from me! Stay away! D-don’t come any closer!”

 “Calm down, dearie,” Perci reassured. But Cameron only heard a strange growl from him that sounded like “Raaalmm, rrowwn, geeerrek!” She was too scared to properly comprehend the human speech.

 Cameron suddenly pointed behind them. “Look! What’s that over there?” She promptly dashed away with a zip while only Perci glanced behind him. The others narrowed their eyes in confusion.

 Cameron screamed some more before skidding to a halt. She gasped. “Oh my! What on Earth?”

 Before her lay a vibrant magical world beyond her greatest imagination. It was a cross between Jurassic Park, Zootopia and a child’s version of New York. A blue sea creature eel with three eyes slithered across a teal street with dark stones on it. A slender red bird appeared to be pulling a covered wagon in the distance. A yellow cab drove by a golden dragon and a yellow bird with long feathers. The buildings were curved, concaved and had glass coverings around them. There was a small pond, several sidewalks and lamps illuminating the small park below. Birds of many colors flapped and fluttered freely in the air, some of them looking like pterodactyls. A large red spotted wall had several archways of different sizes, green vines going up it and a large golden eye in the center. Several birds were perching on the top of the wall. A few waterfalls flowed through the arches of the wall. There were several dinosaurs too; a two headed blue longneck, a golden dinosaur with multiple eyes and a flap of skin on its head, and a violet triceratops that looked like a pincher beetle. Nearby buildings of blue, yellow and pink read “Gym,” “Liquor,” and “Le Crumbles” respectively.  

 Cameron shook her head. “This is not happening…I’m dreaming this.”

 Cameron felt something soft and furry press against her back. Without a word, her eyes darted upwards and met the gaze of a cheetah.

 “Is there something wrong, Miss?” asked the cheetah.

 But of course, Cameron only heard hungry growls. She saw the cheetah’s teeth and maw and felt lightheaded.

 “Uhhh…”

 This was it…she was now cat food. Her eyes rolled back and she fainted onto the ground. The cheetah rolled his eyes and sighed in concern.

 “Somebody get our new visitor to the infirmary.”

 “I can do it,” Fabian purred.

 “No. I got it,” barked Carrie, lifting up Cameron’s form easily.

 0 0 0

“Wuuuhh?”

 Cameron groaned and slowly opened her eyes. Her vision cleared and she saw a man with tan skin and blonde hair with bangs jutting off to one side. He wore a sky blue shirt, a torn white tie and dark pants. Cameron was lying on a table. In the dark room, a sky blue poster with a yellow smiley face read “Smile! It’s almost over!”

 “You okay, hun?” the man asked. He was Chastopher the nurse.

 “W-what’s going on?” Cameron asked, sitting up.

 “You are in the nurse’s office, my dear!”

 Cameron rubbed her head. “Oh thank god…I just had the worst dream ev…what is that?” Her face turned pale.

 The man held a red power drill in one hand. As he turned around, Cameron swore she heard the screeching music from “Psycho.”

 “Willis said you needed a checkup!” he babbled, leaning close to her face. “Willis is very smart, you know!”

 He hugged a stuffed lime-colored unicorn with a black button eye and flicked on the drill. The drill buzzed loudly, mixing with his crazed giggles.

 “Help!” Cameron screamed. She dove under his legs off the table and scrambled away. Cameron flung open the door and gulped with a pause. The cheetah was back, blocking her way.

 “Are you feeling better, Miss Walden?”

 “No.” Cameron replied, eye twitching. Why was she talking to a cheetah? Animals didn’t talk, yet here they were. She turned around, clutching her head. There had to be a way to escape.

 “Okay! O-kay! T-This is just a big crazy dream! Wake up! Wake up Cameron! Wake up!”

 “Wake up,” the nurse sang with a dopey expression, holding his toy. After closing her eyes, she opened them again. To her disappointment, she was still in the same place.

 “Are you finished?” the cheetah deadpanned, an annoyed look on his furry face.

 Cameron sighed. “Okay…I give up…w-what’s going on?”

 “Were you not informed about…”

 “About what? Informed about what?!”

 The cheetah stared at her in confusion. “You were not informed about this place before being sent here?”

 “Sent where? Where am I?!”

 Oh dear, this was going to be hard to explain. They needed a better place to talk.

 “Follow me, Miss...” said the cheetah, moving on four legs.

 Feeling like she had no choice, Cameron awkwardly obliged. Cameron peeked back toward the room and saw the nurse sleeping against his toy.

 “S-So…” Cameron began as she raced to catch up to the cheetah. “Y-you’re a giant cheetah?”

 “Yes.”

 “Just checking…”

 They walked past green lockers and into an office.

 “Have a seat, Miss,” said the cheetah. He mentioned to a large purple desk chair as Cameron slowly sat down.

 Sluurrrrppp!

 The principal with a yellow and red squid head with three lip-like designs on his forehead was slurping loudly from a pink teacup. He wore a dark business suit with buttons. A matching pink teapot sat at his desk and slobber dribbled onto the desk surface. Cameron darted her eyes toward him in bewilderment.

 The cheetah smiled. “Oh this is Principal Winston. He is quite harmless.”

 “Right…” Cameron breathed, pulling her knees closer together.

 The cheetah stared at Cameron with concern. He felt bad for this newcomer who had been so traumatized on her first visit. He remembered when he himself first arrived to Safe Haven, formerly being a regular cheetah and accidentally falling through a portal. He had magically gained the ability to talk thanks to Salvia and became one of the staff members at the school. Although he missed his original family, he had found other creatures like himself…a new family.

 Perhaps he could help Cameron be a part of it…quirkiness and all. But the hard truth had to come first.

 The cheetah straightened his spine and cleared his throat.

 “Well my dear Miss Cameron. I have some news for you. My name is Zechariah, and I regret to inform you that there seems to have been some sort of mistake with the company that employed you. You were hired to be a guidance counselor, correct?”

 “Y-yes.”

 “Well, all humans employed or chosen to be sent here are given strict details about this world, and it is their choice to be transferred.”

 Zechariah’s eyes glowed yellow and narrowed in suspicion. “Whoever sent you, did an incredibly dishonest thing…for once here, you cannot return to the outside world you once knew…”

 Cameron could hardly breathe. “S-So I’m stuck in the crazy magical world of oversized talking animals?”

 “I am afraid so, Miss.” Then he added in a more professional tone, “Also, this is an interspecies society. There are many different creatures. Not just ‘animals.’”

 Cameron shuddered with renewed terror. “Like what? Other scary things? Vampires?”

 “Yes.”

 “Mermaids? Demons? Ghosts?”

 “Yes.”

 “Aliens?”

 “Aliens do not exist, Miss Cameron.”

 “Where am I right now?” Cameron wondered out loud.

 “You are in the Zoo Phoenix Academy,” said Zechariah. “This is where you were employed. So we brought you right here. Would you like a tour?”

 “Okay?” Cameron hesitated.

 Zechariah held up his tail which had a watch on it. He spoke into the device. “Jackie, can you come to my office please?”

 “Absolutely!” a voice replied.

 Cameron grabbed onto Zechariah’s tail. “Who’s Jackie?”

 Cameron soon got her answer when a woman strolled into the room. “Hey, hey hey!” she trilled in a sing-song voice. Jackie wore a long dress in different shades of blue; navy blue at the top to sky blue at the bottom. Her dress had yellow trim around it and she wore matching yellow shoes. Her skin was light brown and her hair was in vibrant shades of blue, with yellow tufts toward the back and a green tip that served as a bang. Her hair was reminiscent of parrot feathers.

 She was a parrot shapeshifter…and she chatted like one too.

 She walked over to Cameron and eagerly shook her hand.

 “Hello, hello, hello! I’m Jackie! Drama instructor. So you are the new girl everyone’s talking about? What’s your name?”

 “Cameron,” she replied nervously.

 “You caused quite a scene huh, Cam?”

 “It’s Cameron.”

 Zechariah leaned over.

 “She is in need of a tour, Jackie.”

 Jackie put an arm around a stunned Cameron and guided her through the door.

 “Not another word, Zech! I got this!”

 0 0 0

 Jackie eagerly showed Cameron around the vast campus. Despite being inhabited by strange beings, Cameron couldn’t help but admire the buildings and scenery. The grass was bright green and fresh and the trees provided ample shade for hot days. The building exteriors were made of smooth glass and round in globe shapes. They walked through a cobblestone courtyard, where a fountain trickled in the center. On either side of the entrance, there were statues of phoenixes made of bloodstone, garnet and rubies. The phoenix was the mascot, symbolizing rebirth and new hope. “Rise from the ashes, soar into success!” was the academy motto.

 “I love our mascot, don’t you?” Jackie asked Cameron. Cameron mostly zoned out as Jackie chatted on and on. “Though I’d much prefer parrots! They’re so beautiful and lively. The school would do good to spread some more musical cheer. And parrots would be perfect! Just notice how well they can talk and sing. The Zoo Parrot Academy, wouldn’t have to worry about changing the acronym.”

 They soon walked through some double doors and into a vast chamber made up of the red spotted wall.

 “I really think you will love working here, Cam! This is the main lobby. All the subject wings branch off from here.”

 Reflected watery light of an aquarium danced around the floor and walls. Jackie guided Cameron through a large room with an elevator and long tan chairs off to the side. A winding green staircase swirled up to an upper level with glass panes and a marvelous view of the outside. Several archways branched off to different sections. They passed under an arch, which was against a light blue wall, leading to the aquarium. Inside, Cameron could see a friendly-looking fish, a hammerhead shark, a swordfish and a bottlenose dolphin gliding playfully through the water.

  “Have I gone insane?” Cameron breathed as she looked up at the aquarium ceiling in wonder.

 “No, not really!” Jackie replied.

 One archway had a grandfather clock beside it, another was adorned with red curtains and another was supported by Greek pillars.

 Cameron stopped for a moment as Jackie turned around.

 “You ready?” she asked.

 Cameron stood there puzzled as Jackie wandered off toward the stairs. Jackie looked at her and laughed sheepishly.

 “What? Did you think I was gonna be like ‘Come, I’ll show you my wing first?!’”

 Cameron nodded.

 “Oh, that would be kinda silly. I mean, why not save the best for last?! There are so many great places to explore here, wouldn’t want to deprive you of the diverse experience, ya know?”

 Cameron let out a small understanding smile. “Thank you.”

 “Alrighty! Let’s flutter on up! Heh…or walk, rather…”

 Cameron rolled her eyes as she followed Jackie up the stairs.

 They walked into the first wing supported by Greek pillars, and Cameron could smell the scent of dusty books.

 “This is the library!” said Jackie. Then she covered her mouth, speaking softer. “I forgot I’m supposed to whisper in here!”

 Going inside, there were rows and rows of books on shelves all around them. Some were leather bond with yellowed pages while others looked brand new. There were also magazines and modern computers on round desks where students were doing their work. Several winged birds were busy organizing the books on the higher shelves, which arched toward the high stained-glass ceiling. The ceiling had glass designs of owls, phoenixes and trees. At the front desk, a camel lady with thin glasses was busy exchanging books with passerby.

 “Here you’ll find everything you need to study on counseling techniques, textbooks or just reading for fun. It’s the go-to place for research of all kinds. The students here are teenagers but we have majors and college-like courses in this high school!”

 “Quiet!” whispered a nearby gray owl with a monocle at Jackie.

 “Sorry!” she whispered.

 “Well…that’s quite something,” said Cameron.

 “I know, right? Trying to combine different curriculums, school systems and diverse races and species of students can be a lot of work. But thankfully the founders of Safe Haven helped out tremendously.”

 “And they are?” Cameron asked.

 But Jackie instead got distracted and waved at a red-haired woman in the distance.

 Toward the back of the library was a shadowed section labeled “Restricted Section,” which housed books on dark magic. Sitting at the edge of that section on a chair was Salvia with a book in hand. Jackie guided Cameron over to the red-haired woman. They stopped just short of her.

 Salvia lifted up her face slightly from a book labeled “Romeo and Juliet 2: Love and Lies.” She wore a black dress with red etched patterns.

 “Can I help you?”

  “This is Salvia, one of the staff members,” said Jackie in an excited whisper. Jackie gestured for Cameron to introduce herself.

 “Uh…hi,” Cameron said with a nervous grin and wave. Salvia peered at her closely, her eyes hidden behind her hair. “You’re the newcomer, right?”

 Cameron nodded.

 “Welcome to Z.P.A.,” she said.

 “Huh?”

 “Zoo Phoenix Academy, the place you’ll be staying at briefly until we can get you a new home nearby.”

 Cameron paced back and forth, anxious again. “No one has explained exactly what is going on here, what this place is, what’s it called?” Cameron asked. “I know you guys are trying to keep me from getting scared but I’ve had it with being confused! Explain things to me.”

 “Shhh!” several voices shushed Cameron when she raised her voice.

 “Oh of course,” said Salvia, putting the book down and conjuring magical images and sigils in front of her. “Might as well explain it to you now rather than wait three whole weeks later after witnessing a vampire attack to do it.”

 “W-What?” Cameron asked before she was shushed again.

 “I can see glimpses of the future,” Salvia mentioned. “Anyway, Cameron, you’ve only been exposed to the Zoo Phoenix Academy and its grounds…we were gonna wait until you felt more comfortable with the school but, if you insist on knowing this place…”

 “Yes, I’m still a capable adult,” Cameron added.

 “This place is much bigger than what you have experienced. It is called…Safe Haven.”

 (“Salvia here. For the next few minutes, I described the magical protection and the origins of Safe Haven that I had already verbalized in the introduction narration. Feel free to go back if needed but let’s skip and continue on.”)

 Cameron stood, jaw dropping. “Oh my God! There really are monsters out there?!”

 “Do not worry,” said Salvia. “As long as you’re here, you should be safe. I’m hoping you’ll get more used to this place and not cause the magical barrier to eventually collapse.”

 “I’d never do that!”

 “Not intentionally. But someone else wants to make sure that happens.”

 “Who is it?” Cameron asked, but Jackie stood in the way, much to the annoyance of Cameron and Salvia.  

 “Thank you Salvia,” said Jackie with a nervous chuckle, pushing Cameron along, “But we better get going! Heh, heh! So many things to see.”

 Salvia gave Cameron a knowing apologetic look before going back to her book.

 Moe shushes followed them out of the library. “Whew, I can speak again!” Jackie boomed as they entered a hall with brass walls. Jackie’s voice echoed off the walls. “Echo! Echo!” Cameron flinched and grit her teeth.

 “On with the tour!” They passed through another archway flanked by torches and five golden rings overhead. “This is the Sports Wing!” said Jackie as they walked down the hall. “Here you’ll find our gymnasium, our pool, outdoor courts and dance studios.”

 Cameron looked through a glass window at an indoor basketball court. The court walls were decorated with vines. A monkey was busy swinging from the vines with his tail, dribbling a basketball in his hands. A bear, a bull, a ram, a goat and a chipmunk were stomping around, trying to get the basketball. The monkey dunked it into a nearby hoop as a zebra coach blew his whistle.

 Outside in the courtyard, a few lions were practicing fencing while a fox and a hare did gymnastic tricks on bars. Several cheetahs raced each other along a round track and a black bearded centaur hopped over hurdles along the way. A dog and a cat were busy playing hand ball. A few hyena hybrids snickered as they taped a “kick me” sign on the back of a student with peacock feathers.

 In a swimming pool, a boy with shark features and a girl with blue scaly skin laughed as they raced each other down the lanes. A woman with swan feathers was preening herself in a hot tub as several male ducks peered for a closer look. A mermaid relaxed beside her, staring at her reflection.

 Several brightly colored werewolves were listening to blaring electronic music in the weight room as they lifted barbells and rapidly punched hanging bags. A lone black-wearing vampire stood in the corner drinking dark red liquid from a bottle. The boxing ring was currently being used by bi-pedal boxer dogs.

 “Too much sweat and exertion for me,” Jackie mentioned. “I’m more for the grace and beauty of the theater! Onward!”

  They soon left the Sports Wing and headed through the arch with the grandfather clock.

 “Here is the History Wing!”

 They walked around what looked like a museum, with a variety of items on display. There were ceramic pots from ancient civilizations within glass boxes all around. Various paintings were hung from the walls, with signatures. Several weapons were on display further back. Among the weapons were a few that glowed white with swirls and crosses.

 “Oh, those are angelic weapons. They are highly valuable and rare. It is said that they can kill any demon in Hell.”

 “Why not use them to fight off the monsters?” asked Cameron.

 “Good question. Some demons gather the weapons and sell them on the black market for later use. They kill each other off, causing lots of chaos. Heaven’s been using the Exorcists who wield these weapons to eliminate demons each year for centuries. Archangel Adina’s idea to insure ‘purity’ up there.”

 “How do you know all this?”

 “A friend of a friend of an ex told me. Horrible stuff, I’m telling you. Best to lay low and stay safe.”

  They continued onward past treasure chests, antique clothing and various art of mythical creatures in battle or passionate embraces. Exiting that wing, they turned toward another wing made of metal.

 “Ah, the Science and Engineering Wing! Perhaps the most confusing and loud section there is. Try not to touch anything!”

  It was indeed very loud. Clanks, hisses, bangs and booms permeated through the rooms. Cameron had to cover her ears as she followed Jackie. In one area, raccoons, cats and a few dwarves were working on a metal machine that bellowed smoke and sparks. It had wheels, engines, pipes and canvas wings on either side of it. “Primitive flying car” was labeled next to it. A gopher was working on a computer as green 0s and 1s blinked down a screen. A few other students were taking notes on a steampunk blimp made by a snake inventor of the Industrial Revolution.

 There were also several dimmed laboratories illuminated with teal blue fluorescent lights. Blue flames flickered under Bunsen burners while students peered through microscopes at their ant friends. A blue anglerfish man was pouring colorful contents from different vials together, snickering. A mad scientist in a lab coat was instructing one class on how to make a serum that could strengthen the DNA of animal hybrids.

 “Let’s move on,” Jackie coughed, swiping away the nearby smoke.

 They exited the wing and had arrived at the vast bustling cafeteria.

 “The heart…erm, stomach of the campus!” Jackie joked.

  Rows of white tables hosted hungry students and staff. Several birds were slurping up bowls of worms. Werewolves were munching on raw meat while horses chewed casually on hay blades. There was also regular food for the more human-like beings as well: salads, sandwiches, soups, potatoes, tacos, casseroles, stews, banquet style meals, fruit desserts and ice cream. There was even a stand giving out spectral food for ghosts. Like many college eating areas, there were various sections serving different kinds of dishes like a miniature food mall. It was an all-you-can-eat paradise.

 Cameron’s stomach grumbled as she inhaled the scents of exotic foods. But Cameron soon led her out and back to the main lobby.

“And now, for the best and last part of the tour…” she led Cameron through the wing with red curtains. Rusty and another spotted animal watched them go from the top of the stairs.

 “This is the Arts Wing!”

 Jackie held her arms in the air as they walked down a hall. The walls were red and decorated with spirals. A poster with a comedy and tragedy theater mask shone within a frame of lights. There was a red “Just Dance” poster and a green movie posted with a clawed black hand labeled “Now showing: The Ded.” There was a painting of a waterfall and a nearby forest.

 Cameron looked around. “Oh my, never woulda guessed…”

 Jackie laughed. “Hahaha! Sarcasm! I like you Cam!”

 They stopped by the dance room and pushed open the double red doors.

  “Baby! I got someone for you to meet!” Jackie trilled.

 A man with the same colored skin as Jackie, clapped his hands. A group of girls, Mia and Ava, Penelope and Camilla were in pink tutus and ballet slippers doing practice.

 “Okay girls! Once you’re warmed up…Jackie!”

 The man turned around and beamed.

  “Oh god…” Cameron looked in disgust.

 The man wore a vibrant red pinstriped suit with blue vertical stripes on it. His bow tie was yellow with red and blue dots on it. His hair was mostly red with a white spot to the left side and blue tips toward the bottom back. His hair also resembled parrot feathers. He currently wore dark blue pants, pointed black shoes and a pink tutu. He also had a gold tooth.

 He leaned into Cameron, his eyes golden yellow.

  “Salutations senorita! Name?”

 “C-Cameron.”

 “Soopity, doopity to meetcha! My name is Alanzo but call me Al! It’s shorter!”

 He also eagerly shook Cameron’s hand before hugging his wife.

  “Heh, nice to meet you,” Cameron began. “So what subject do you…”

  “Dance!” Alanzo explained with a flourish.

 Jackie chuckled nervously, guiding Cameron out of the room. “Well honey, we gotta run. Got a lot of school to show!”

  “You do yer thang, gal!” Alanzo said with a snap of his fingers.

  “So he was…” Cameron began as they walked out of the room and down the hall.

 Jackie smiled. “That was my husband. We both work in this wing!”

 Jackie showed Cameron more rooms.

 “And here is…the Art Room!”

 Addison and his adoptive Indian snake mother Latika were busy painting on a canvas. A vivid painting of a flying phoenix hung in the background.

  “The Music Room!”

 Calvin, a yellow crocodile with a black and yellow back with squares on it, played a tuba, which matched his color scheme. A smiling brown fox named Christopher played a white saxophone with blue swirls on it. A black porcupine named Priscilla played a black cello.

 Dodododo do-do-do-do…they played a cheerful tune that sounded like Gooseworx’s two Zoophobia themes. (Look it up on YouTube!)

  “The Film Room!”

 A white and gray wolf twin (Leonardo or Vincent) held onto a fire hydrant with a joyful expression as a fan blew him back. A green screen was in the background. A cheetah, a gray-haired student and the other wolf twin looked at a screen in bewilderment. Another guy with a black hat, flinched from the force of air.

  “Why do the animals have giant fans?” asked Cameron.

  “Guess they got a bigger budget!” Jackie exclaimed.

 “But why?”

  “Their last film almost did win at the festival,” Jackie pondered.

 At last, they entered a vast auditorium.

 Jackie spread out her arms. “And here is my domain! The Theater!”

 Cameron glanced down at a group of figures sitting on the stage.

 “A-are those your students?”

 Jackie wiped a tear from her eye. “Yep! They are my little prodigies!”

 Then she trilled in a sing-song voice: “Good afternoon my sparkling little turtle doves!”

 “Hey Jackie!” the students harmonized in song.

 To Cameron’s bewilderment, an orange fox named Spam, peered at her from atop her head…then licked her face randomly before scampering off.

 Spam, Penelope, Jack, Makenzie, Zillion, Kayla, Sahara, Daimon, Taylor and Vanexa were all there.

 Penelope wore a stylish white dress and a teal headband with two peacock feathers on it. She was currently admiring herself in a small hand mirror. Mackenzie the cat girl had messy red hair, pale skin and a lavender shirt with a cat on it. She saw herself as a cat after being raised by her equally cat-loving mother Margo.

 Jack was a light brown jackal with a worn down body and droopy ears. Zillion was a mix up of creatures and had yellow skin, purple eyes, purple antennae-like ears and a small green snake for a tail. Taylor was a guy with red sclera eyes, light brown hair with purple sides, and he wore brown clothing. He and Zillion were currently locked in an arm wrestling match.

 Kayla the beautiful kangaroo was Zillion’s girlfriend; she was happily perched on top of the black grand piano. Sahara was a dark skinned woman wearing a pink head scarf over her dark hair. She had an affinity for magic. Behind her was a darker colored jackal Damion, with red pupils, black sclera and wearing tattered clothes of red and black. Finally, Vanexa was a purple bi-pedal cat, reading a book with a disinterested look on her face. She viewed those around her in a detached annoyance.

 ‘These are her students?! Just more magical freaky animals?! How crazy can this world get?!’ thought Cameron.

 Zillion pinned down Taylor’s arm, much to the latter’s annoyance. “Who’s your friend, cracker jacks?” he asked Jackie.

 Jackie put an arm around Cameron. “This here is your new guidance counselor fellas!” Cameron awkwardly looked off to the side.

 “Oh good!” Jack and Damion called at the same time.

 Damion smirked sarcastically, “I need a lot of ‘guidance!’”

 Cameron walked over and pointed at Zillion. “Um sorry, I hate to ask but…what exactly are you? I want to know how scared I should be…”

  “Well I…” Zillion began to explain but Jack snickered with a “Kekekeke!” from beside him. Zillion glared at Jack.

 “Pass,” Zillion deadpanned. “Not even I know what I am.”

 McKenzie sniffed Cameron for a moment, then let out a “Hiss!” It was her habit among strangers. Cameron flinched in confusion.

 Damion chuckled and leaned toward Cameron. “You really got your work cut out for you, lady! Just sayin’.”

 Cameron stared at him. “H-how are you floating like that?”

 Damion grinned. “Oh well it’s because…” He turned on a flashlight under his face and bared his fangs wide, his eyes swirled stripes of red against black. “I’m the Antichrist! Hahahahaha!”

 Cameron almost felt like fainting again.

  Jack inched closer to Cameron with an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about my cousin!” He smiled and clutched her hand. “Hello! My name is Jack! And I would like to schedule with you as soon as possible!”

 Cameron raised an eyebrow. “Uh, okay?”

 Jack let go. “Sorry! It’s been a while since I had someone to talk about my problems…”

 Clang!

 A stage light fell down and collapsed on top of Jack. He fell to the floor in a heap. A pool of dark blood was visible on the floor around his head. One of his paws had an exposed bone. Cameron covered her mouth in fear and shock.

 “Aw man! Not again! You okay dude?” Zillion asked in concern.

  Zillion turned to Cameron. “Yeah, this happens a lot. He’ll be alright.”

 “Hey, Jackie! Another light fell!” Taylor called.

 “I saw it!” she answered.

 “So Cam!” said Jackie. “Do you wanna stick around for the class?”

 “I’m sorry to say…I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed,” Cameron breathed in almost a whisper.

 “Understandable, hun! Vanexa, would you mind escorting Cam to her office?”

 The purple cat nodded and led the way, book in hand.

 Jackie turned back to the class and clapped her hands. “Alright guys! Showtime!”

 They soon reached a pair of wooden doors underneath a sign that read “Guidance.”

  “T-thank you. V-Vanexa was it?” Cameron asked nervously. Vanexa did not answer. There was an awkward silence as they looked each other in the eyes. They each seemed to be trying to decipher the other’s thoughts. Cameron coughed.

 “W-well…yeah…good evening to you, talking cat…” Cameron stuttered.

 “Enjoy your stay,” said Vanexa before she walked back down the hall.

 0 0 0

Cameron slammed the door shut behind her, catching her breath. Her office was small and dimly lit with a few books on one shelf to the left. A palm plant was off to one side and blinds were in the center of a yellow wall. In the center was a desk with a couple chairs and “C. Walden” on a label. A pink gift bag lay on her desk with a bunch of strange items inside; a pink flower with yellow tips, a green dragon figure, and what appeared to be cosmetics. Cameron read the tag on the gift: “Dear Cameron, Welcome to the Family! Z.P.A. Staff.”

 Cameron smiled slightly at the thoughtful gift.

 Cameron was reminded of Mrs. Winkler’s office…and then was reminded of home. This small space didn’t feel much like home.

 “How are you coping with things thus far, Cameron?”

 Cameron whirled behind her and spotted Zechariah the cheetah.

 “Holy mother of…please d-don’t do that…”

 “My apologies,” he said.

 Cameron sighed. “Yeah…well all things considered…” She slide down onto the floor, overwhelmed.

 “I’m sure this is a lot to handle,” said Zechariah.

 “Yeah…”

 “This place will take some getting used to, Miss. Miss?”

 To Zechariah’s surprise, Cameron was sniffing and sobbing, burying her face in her knees. This was not how Zechariah imagined the newcomer would feel.

  “I am truly sorry this has happened to you, Miss,” Zechariah said empathetically. “I wish there was more I could do…”

 Although stern on the outside, Zechariah had a sweet and protective heart. Being a staff member had gotten him exposed to more human emotions. As the ZPA staff had welcomed him during his arrival to Safe Haven, it was no wonder that he went out of his way to try and do the same for others.

 Zechariah nuzzled his furry face into Cameron’s like a comforting cat. Cameron didn’t flinch this time. In fact, she cried and wrapped her arms around the cheetah. She didn’t care that he wasn’t a regular human. She just needed something…someone to give her comfort. Someone to let her know she wasn’t alone in this strange new world. Zechariah’s warm soft chest felt good to Cameron…like a comforting blanket or a pet. Zechariah stared in brief surprise, before closing his eyes and embracing the gesture. Cameron reminded him of when he had been a young cub, trying to find his place.  

 Cameron’s animal-loving side from her childhood briefly came back…before it faded with the moment of their separation.

 “There is…something you may like to see,” mentioned Zechariah in a soft voice. He had an idea. “This way, Miss.”

 Cameron followed Zechariah up the stairs and into the observatory.

 “W-what’s up here?” Cameron asked.

 Then she looked skyward and gasped.

  “Oh my god…”

 Shimmering in the starry night sky were glowing yellow koi fish floating in the air. They had yellow skin, glowing white eyes, white lines and spot designs across their bodies. One large fish had a yin-yang symbol on its forehead and was as big as an airplane. Their fins were transparent and flowing gracefully like they were angel wings underwater.

 “These are guardian fish spirits,” said Zechariah. “The Fish of Peace. They appear when everything is safe. Similar to the butterfly orcas, used to calm anxiety.”

  “How…how’d you know I like fish?” Cameron breathed. “This is…beautiful!”

 ‘Salvia’s magic of course,’ Zechariah thought.

 Zechariah purred. “Welcome home, Miss Cameron.”

 A magnificent ocean-colored whale swam by among the fish, decorated with bioluminescent spots along its back.

 For several minutes, the two of them stared in wonder at the ethereal spirits. Cameron felt like maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all. Especially with her new furry friend and mentor.

 Then a question spilled out of her mouth.

  “So…where am I going to live anyway?”

 One of the fish in the sky turned a deathly white and took on yellow and black stripped eyes. She peered closely at Cameron. “And so it begins…”

 0 0 0

 One day later, an earth-colored griffin-like creature named Skoni pulled a cart of packages around the street. He sang the “Mail Time” song out loud:

 “Here’s the mail

It never fails

It makes me want to wag my tail

When it comes, I wanna wail

Mail!”

 He stopped and knocked on Cameron’s door.

 Cameron cracked open the door of her new small home. “Y-yes?”

 “Package, ma’am!”

 Cameron took the package and stared at Skoni. He suddenly appeared to be sprouting eyes all over his body…

  “Get away monster!” Cameron cried, waving a bat at him.

 Skoni looked taken aback. “You just arrived yesterday, lady! I’m here to deliver your mail! Gaah!”

 “Demon!” Cameron yelled, squirting hose water in his face.

  “Fine!” Skoni scoffed. “Have a nice day!”

 Cameron blinked a few times and saw a regular pouting Skoni trot away. “Oh you were just delivering the mail again... Sorry!”

 Eris (or “KayCee”) laughed as the Skoni illusion replayed from her golden apple. She ate a sub sandwich in the darkness. “So let’s get this party started then, shall we?”

Chapter Three: “Jack’s Counseling Session”

Cameron’s first test of her new career began several days later. Jack had mentioned that he wanted to get an appointment with her as soon as possible. And by sheer luck, his desire was granted. (However, he had to deal with several shoves from Rusty, slipping on a banana peel and tripping on the sidewalk several times on his way there.)

 Cameron glanced at a long list of confidential session notes provided to her by Salvia for the week:

 Client One: Jackson Wells. Concern: Daily bad luck.

Client Two: Addison Woods. Concern: Trauma from experimentation in Xirxine labs.

Client Three: McKenzie Payoray. Concern: Daily bullying and coping with feline lifestyle.

Client Four: Damion Beelzly. Concern: Proper educational environment.

Clients Five and Six: Zillion Martinez and Kayla Christling. Concern: Anniversary troubles.

Client Seven: Vanexa Pierce. Concern: Solitude and fitting in.

Client Eight: Camilla Jimenez. Concern: Dancer, hopeless romantic, doesn’t like her rep.

Client Nine: Autumn. Concern: Increase self-worth.

Client Ten: Tom. Concern: Break up with Addison and stealing souls.

Client Eleven: Daphne Dafadellia. Concern: Being less judgmental toward men.

Client Twelve: Rusty (Call him by his real name Reuben, he hates it). Concern: Bullying issues.

 (Don’t mind my mind reading.)

 Cameron smiled as she stood on a chair and hung up a sign on her office door that read “Ms. Walden. ZPA Guidance.”

 She placed a small green tree in a pot on a side table, hung up a blue poster of two fish that read “Just keep swimming,” and placed a golden dragon statue on a side table as well. Her desk was polished and had a label on it with her name. She stepped back and observed her handiwork.

 “Mhm! Much better!”

 She glanced at her watch and sat down at her desk, arms folded in front of her.

 ‘Okay, you can do this,’ she encouraged to herself. Her heart jolted when she heard a knocking at the door.

 Jack peered into the room.

 “Um Ms. Walden? I’m uh, here for my session…”

 “Oh yes! Jackson, good morning to you,” greeted Cameron. She mentioned to a purple beanbag chair on the floor. “Please take a seat and we can get started! Hope you don’t mind bean-bags…”

 Jack settled onto the bean-bag, enjoying the comfort. “Naw, they are actually really nice, heh…Also I, um, like what you did with the new room! It’s very humble!”

 “Thank you!”

 Cameron placed a hand under her chin with a sheepish grin. “Yes I’m…very thankful to Zechariah for letting me change rooms. I kinda have a weird connection with my surroundings. The old room was just a little too intimidating on first arrival…”

 “Yeah, I understand what you mean…” mentioned Jack.

 Cameron cleared her throat. “So! You are my first official counseling session here at Z.P.A.! Is there um, anything bothering you at all that you would like to talk about? Anything!”

 Jack stuttered, already beginning to feel a sort of crush for her. Cameron had appeared so nice on her first day and he figured maybe she could ease his current situation a bit. “Umm…well…I think for things I tell you to make sense…I have to kinda fill you in a bit about...myself...and my “condition,” or well…my curse…”

 Jack then explained his origins.

  “You see…my parents were extremely close…according to my mother. And when she got pregnant with me, they were very excited. But…before I was born, my father was killed in a very freak accident. My mother was devastated by it. In desperation, she turned to her sister. My aunt Narissa, who…well is married to the devil…as creepy as that sounds. She begged him to make a deal but as a gift to his wife, he granted my mother her wish. To give her unborn child the gift of eternal life…But the devil’s magic works in very odd ways…so his gift was really a curse. When I was born, he cursed me with immortality…along with a supernatural affinity for bad luck…and, heh…thing is…I still feel pain…”

 He barely remembered himself as a pup, flinching in a grass bed as Lucifer’s long dark finger shot a bolt of hot magic through him…burning him to his very core.

 His mother was grateful she didn’t have to worry about him dying, but was concerned about the bad luck.

 Jack glanced off to the side. “So, um, yeah. Not being able to die on top of the very crazy, often violent things that happen to me…with the pain…it um…yeah…not fun.”

 Jack looked at Cameron in concern.

 “You okay, Miss. Walden? I’m sorry if my story is a little strange…”

 “No…” Cameron replied. “I’m just…still getting used to hearing about the…supernatural things…and the devil being real…”

 Cameron continued. “Phewww…I am very sorry for your situation, Jackson. It sounds…simply dreadful. What else would you like to share about your hardships? I can tell there is a lot you have to tell…”

 Jack twiddled his thumbs. “I really hope you don’t mind me talking a lot about myself. I just think it’s a good idea to fill things in.”

 “No Jack, it’s fine,” Cameron encouraged. “It helps to know these things!”

 “Yeah, I’m sorry, it’s just…been a while since I explained this stuff. I don’t often tell people about the curse anymore.”

 “Why is that?”

 Jack buried his face in his hands as he explained.

 “Well because…It just gets hard explaining it over and over to people…why so much crazy stuff happens to me, around me. And the moment I mention that it is an actual “curse,” people immediately get sacred to be around me. I can’t really blame them; they don’t want to get hurt. But…sometimes I don’t really like it. I don’t like people avoiding me out of fear. And I don’t like people thinking I’m making it up for attention!”

 Cameron was reminded of how many people with disabilities felt similarly about having to explain their conditions to other people who didn’t experience them. Some had trouble walking or controlling their bodies. Others felt chronic pain or experienced constant negative thoughts in their heads. Their disabilities were things they were born with and had no control over. Similar to Jack’s bad luck.

 Jack continued. “It just gets a little stressful sometimes, plus some people think I’m pretty…well, weird ‘cause the whole curse thing and my luck has made me pretty superstitious. It really doesn’t help how people see me with all my behaviors and, um, customs. Heh. (You’d feel the same if you noticed me with four ladybugs on my ears, four leaf clovers and a dreamcatcher around my neck, a rabbit’s foot and dice hanging from my legs and me holding a cricket in a cage. Trying every good luck charm imaginable to counteract the bad. Of course, nothing works.) Most people here kinda avoid me for the most part just seeing what kind of stuff happens and finding me odd.”

 “Do you have any real or close friends, Jack?” Cameron asked.

 Jack brightened. “Oh yes! I have a few. And honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without my best friend Zill…”

 “I think I know him…in Jackie’s class, right?” Cameron asked. “What creature is he anyway?”

 “I have no idea! I’m not sure he knows either. In fact, he always seems confused about it.”

 “He doesn’t know?”

 “I don’t think so!”

 “So how long have you known Zill?”

 “Since I found him! About thirteen years now,” said Jack.

 Cameron appeared confused. “I…I’m sorry, you ‘found’ him?”

 “Yeah!”

 “What do you mean by that?”

 Jack chuckled a bit. “Oh heh-yeah sorry, let me explain!”

 Jack then explained the next part of his origins.

  “I was born in Safe Haven’s animal district. It’s a kind and more natural environment, so my upbringing was more ‘traditional,’ I guess. My mom never really explained my curse to me when I was younger. I just thought the world was against me and that she didn’t even care. So I ran away from home a lot back then. I just felt I had to escape somehow.”

 “It was never much help, but I seemed to kinda enjoy the time away from her. I remember the last time I ran away, I was like five, and during a really foggy rainy night, I took shelter in a tree. I heard some growling in the forest. It was really scary at the time, cause most animals in the district respect private boundaries, plus I was young too…heh. I heard this creature emerge from the bushes. He approached the entrance to where I was hiding. His eyes were glowing green. I had never seen anything like him before and I was extremely scared. He was just really curious of me I think, but he behaved much more…well bestial than what I was used to. He was like…well, an ‘animal,’ which was new for me. Most animals in the district can still speak universally! Especially upon first meeting.”

 “Zill was extremely wary of me and I was just terrified! But really he was just extremely curious of me. Unlike me, Zill was just unafraid and bold! Also surprisingly unfazed by my curse. (He put back my broken arm like it was nothing.) In fact, for the first time, I had met someone who not only was unfazed by it, but he actually…intervened! (After water poured on my head from a leaf, he used his wing to keep me dry.) So really, Zill meant a lot to me, almost right off the bat.”

 “We actually kinda lived together in the forest for like a full month, getting to know each other as friends. He didn’t talk to me at first, but when he started to talk, he only spoke Spanish! Which was like jibberish to be…heh. So the language barrier was still there, yet we still understood each other somehow. After a while I decided to actually bring Zill home with me! My mom was beyond happy I was back. But she actually didn’t take very warmly to Zill.”

 He remembered going along with Zill, with his mother being worried that Zill might harm him. He then told his mother that he didn’t need constant protection all the time.    

 “How did Zill get his name?” Cameron asked.

 “Oh! Well, he spelled his name for me in the dirt while we were in the forest.”

 Cameron listened with intent curiosity. “It’s interesting he was so intelligent, despite living in the forest!”

 “Well I mean lots of intelligent animals live in the wild! But I understand what you mean. Zill did come off as pretty primitive at first.”

 “So did you two live together?”

 Jack nodded. “Actually we did! For a little while before we officially started school! Zill was with us through the move to the city district. During those first years, I taught him how to speak English. (Notecards with pictures and words on it were helpful for us. He’d read words like “apple” and lots of food terms to start off with.) By the time we did first start school, he was already decently bi-lingual! A lot of other kids would call Zill names and stuff cause of how he looked. But he never let it get to him though.”

  “But when I was picked on…”

 Jack remembered Zill admiring a butterfly before he was knocked to the ground by a hard dodgeball to the face. Rusty the bully dog laughed after Jack had fallen.

 “Haha! Take that you wimpy loser!”

 Zill growled and his eyes flashed green. He shot a flaming dodgeball back at Rusty which hit him in the face with a “wham!” Green energy glowed around his hand.

“Zill didn’t take kindly to that. Neither of us ever really found out how exactly his ‘powers’ seemed to work, but he had a lot less control back then.”

 A young Kayla rushed over to Rusty. “Oh gosh! Are you okay?”

 But Rusty just elbowed her away, causing her to fall with an “oof!”

  “Get off me you dumb girl!”

 Zill growled in anger again.

 “Zill has always had issues with people who bully or attack.”

 Kayla stood up, furious. She separated the two boys. “Stop! No more! I’m fine,” she told Zill. “Both of you! No fighting! This is a playground!”

 Rusty scoffed at her. “Get out of my way or I’ll beat you up too! I’m not afraid to hit a dumb girl…”

 Kayla then smacked him hard in the face with a “pow!” before he landed flat on his back. Kayla let out a “hmpth” and strolled away. Zill instantly admired her courage and feistiness.

 “Zill met his girlfriend Kayla on the first day of grade school,” said Jack.

 Cameron gasped. “Oh my! They have been dating for that long? Oh how sweet.”

 Jack shook his head. “Oh, no, heh. Zill didn’t get with Kay for a while. Through most of school he was…well, um ‘loose’ with girls. Flirting with them, showing off his strength and dazzling them with his charm. Many teen boys are like that. He always had genuine feelings for Kayla, but he never had the guts to go for her. He just didn’t think she’d be interested.  Which I guess was understandable. He didn’t have the best rep with the ladies, growing up. He was a party animal…heh, sorry.”

 “But! He used to love to sing! And had a knack for it! So I suggested he try out for the school musical once we entered Z.P.A.! He scored the lead alongside Kayla in the show! (I remember them getting a standing ovation at the end. Zill wore a purple suit and hat while Kayla wore a cross necklace and a blue and white dress.) And that was when they really got to know each other! Once they really got together, Zill really slowed down on his party lifestyle. It was interesting how much of a change there was. But! I was really happy that he had found such a stable relationship. Plus Kayla was a wonderful girl honestly!”

 Jack faltered. “But once he started dating…like I said, our relationship kinda, I dunno, changed…”

 ‘”Our relationship changed?’ How so?” Cameron asked. “Was he just less close as a friend?”

 Jack stuttered slightly. “Um, well! I mean, maybe I said that the wrong way. It was just…so hard to explain! He just suddenly had so many friends and attention once he changed with Kayla. I guess I just missed a little of the constant we had before he had such a serious relationship. I’m just a little worried that the way things might progress…”

 Tears came to Jack’s eyes, his face glum. “That maybe he…eventually won’t need me as a friend…I’m sorry, it’s a dumb worry…”

 “No Jack,” said Cameron. “When a friend starts to change, or befriends other people, it’s normal to feel worried about where you stand. But I’m sure if the two of you are as close as you say, you will never grow apart!”

 “Yeah?”

 “Ya know, we talked a lot about Zill. Why don’t you tell me more about yourself! Do you have many other friends?”

 Jack pondered in thought. “I think that’s why I have this insecurity. Like I said before, I only have a few friends because people are scared to be around me, understandably.” He remembered getting his head sawn off, a beehive landing on his head and getting attacked by a green sewer monster.

 “I have one other really close friend but I rarely see her.”

 “What about your family?” asked Cameron.

 “My family?”

 Jack thought of Damion the troublemaker teen jackal, Lucifer and his jackal wife Narissa, Tentradora the succubus pink cyborg nanny and a blue demon guard named Major Styx. (Grumpy Major Styx wanted Damion to be his submissive love servant and Tentradora was very “touchy-feely” and overprotective. Narissa kept to herself and Lucifer was very prideful as a goat-like demon.)  

 Jack explained, “It’s complicated. I think deep down I love my family, but they do just remind me directly of my curse. My mom Mindy used to take me to visit my uncle and aunt a lot.”

 “Your uncle? The devil?”

  Jack sighed. “Yeah…”

 “I felt very alone when I went there. To Hell. That side of my family has nothing in common with me. Plus when Damian came along he just became a constant pain. Sorry if that’s mean to say. My family makes me look out for him a lot, so I tend to get frustrated with him often. Anyways, even though it was pretty stupid, I decided one day to sneak out of the palace just to clear my head. Hell outside of the protection of the palace gets pretty dangerous. But I kinda stopped worrying about my own physical well-being. So my carelessness caught up with me, and a demon attacked me!”

 “A one-eyed, stripped giant monstrosity! It had two slender legs and a tail…and a large maw under its red glowing eye. Yeah, I guess it was pretty freaky. Dangerous situations tend to shock me more than actually scare me. But then Jill showed up.”

 Jack remembered a purple cat demon leaping into the air and stabbing the monster with a triangular bladed scythe. After several deep stabs and Jill slicing off its hand, the monster tumbled down to the ground. Jack watched with fear and awe against a rock wall.

 “Jill?” asked Cameron. ‘Jack and Jill…’

 “Yeah!” said Jack. “I figured I was on the subject of my only close friends. Jill is definitely one of the most important people in my life…heh. She saved me. Besides Zill, she was the only one who ever protected me. Jill and I started spending time with each other after that. She was a stray demon who spent a lot of time fending for herself against other demons.”

 Jack added, “Sorry if it seems I’m jumping around too much. I get carried away.”

 “It’s fine, Jack,” said Cameron.

 Jack continued. “Anyway, I loved spending time with Jill. She was rough with everyone but with me, she was so soft. Her hugs were the best! I snuck out to hang with her during every Hell visit, and as we got older…”

 Jack let out a forlorn sigh. “I guess nothing really stays the same.”

 “I encouraged her to test herself to be a member of the royal guard. She passed the test with flying colors and was accepted to live in the palace! Lucifer gave her a black collar with a red diamond gem on it to mark her new status. I was so proud of her! She ended up head of the royal guard. I was so happy because we would be able to see each other more often. But then she met this guy she worked with. And kinda…ended up spending more time with him than with me. Which hurt a bit. I had always hoped we would stay close…maybe even get closer.”

 “So you had a crush on her?” Cameron asked.

 “Well, I crush easily,” Jack answered. “I’m happy she found someone though. She deserves that. So does Zill. I just get lonely...”

  After a few sad moments he muttered, “I’m sorry this took a turn. I don’t want it to seem like I’m complaining about the fact they are happy. I hope that’s not what it sounds like.”

 Cameron stared with empathy at Jack. “Jack, it’s fine. I can tell you are a very emotional person, and it’s normal to get lonely in your situation. But I really think you’ll be able to find someone for you in time. And talking about these feelings are the point of counseling. So no need to apologize. You seem to talk very highly of others. What about yourself?”

 “This event was…not a highly moment...I…there was one time Damion locked me in a locker for a whole week. All because he didn’t want me to tell Zill that he had missed Kayla’s anniversary. S-since I couldn’t die, I was just trapped inside my head…starving, deteriorating, not knowing what time it was. It felt like I was dying again and again in a nightmare. By the time someone found me and unchained me, it had been one week later. Took me a full day of fluids to recover, even though my body regenerated itself. It may sound strange to you but…I wanted desperately to die in those moments.”

 A chilling silence permeated the space.

 “Sometimes…I wish I hadn’t been born. I wish that dad hadn’t died. Then my mom wouldn’t have been so obsessed with keeping me alive. It feels like Hell much of the time. Sometimes I blame her, wishing she could experience the curse through my eyes. Other times I blame myself; what did I ever do to deserve…”

 A few books randomly toppled from a shelf and hit Jack in the head. “…this?” He groaned and rubbed his head.

 Cameron looked at Jack with a somber expression. “I’m…sorry you had to go through that. And regarding your curse…no one should have to go through anything like that. I guess death isn’t the worst thing in the world…”

 As Jack sobbed and sniffled for several minutes, Cameron walked over and gave him a comforting embrace. Jack breathed deeply, face blushing. Even after Cameron let go, he still felt her warmth and kindness. He wiped more tears away.

 “S-sorry…”

 “It’s okay Jack.”

  “Besides the curse and all the negatives. Tell me about Jackson,” said Cameron.  

 “Me?”

  “Yes! Your interests? Goals? Hobbies? Things that make you happy. Anything!”

 Jack thought hard about it. “Um…well let’s see. I play the drums! I play the drums while Spam does guitar and lyrics. Kayla and Zill sing and play piano and Vanexa helps too. I also, um, work part time at the Safe Haven observatory. I really love space. Just everything about the universe and its infinite vastness fascinates me! It’s inspiring. I love studying astronomy and science.”

  “Oh!” Cameron exclaimed with joy.

 “I also love to cook! That’s my favorite hobby! I don’t have many people to cook for, so I usually take food to the foster home, the same one that took Zill in for a while. I’m still deciding which path I’d like to take for a career, being like a real chef or going into astronomy.”

 Jack continued. “Next year is my final year at the academy so I need to decide soon what my final major will be. I’m still able to take plenty of classes for both, though!”

 Cameron was very pleased. “Well! Well working at the observatory and being able to exercise your culinary skills gives you a good way to sample your career options. I’m sure you will make the right choice and have a successful career, Jack!”

 Jack smiled warmly. “Thank you, Ms. Walden. Thank you for listening! You’re more attentive than the last counselor.”

  “Well that’s what I’m here for!”

  “So…are you still scared living here after the past few days?” Jack asked.

 Cameron glanced off to the side. “Well, uh, ya…I mean…I’m getting used to things. Talking to you wasn’t scary. You are very kind and not frightening at all, past the fur. Which alone is surprising but there are a few people here who don’t scare me as much. So thank you! For not being scary. Is there anything else you’d like to talk about in this session?”

 Jack stood up. “I think that’s enough for this time. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

 He opened the door and looked at her one last time with a smile. “Thanks again, Ms. Walden. Welcome to Safe Haven!”

 Cameron waved. “Take care, Jackson!”

 As Jack was walking down the hall…

 Slam!

 Rusy slammed him into a locker and he slid to the floor. Rusty barked in laughter, leering over Jack.

 “Watch where yer goin’ wimp! Heh heh! You gonna cry or what?”

 “No?” Jack whimpered.

 “Yeah you are! P*ssy! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

 Rusty laughed as he strutted away. Jack made his way to the observatory as the setting sun turned the sky a salmon pink. He spotted a blonde man wearing glasses and a blue suit with a tight white collar.

 “Hey Dan!”

 The man smiled. “Jack! You’re early! It’s barely dark out!”

  “Yeah. I feel like coming in before my shift to relax a bit. Can I go up?”

  “Of course! Nobody is up there right now.”

  “Thanks Dan!”

 Jack slipped on a blue uniform and climbed up the stars. He made it to the top and his eyes grew wide in wonder. Yellow ethereal koi fish swam and glided across the starry night sky. The spotted bioluminescent midnight blue whale traveled beside the fish as well. The city lights and the greenhouse globe buildings illuminated the night in their spectacular vivid glows. One building was pink, the other a faded golden yellow. Jack became transfixed by the spirits. For the first time in a while, he felt hopeful and positive.

 Jack smiled and sighed contently as he gazed dreamily up at the Fish of Peace. “It’s never lonely at night.”

 Despite the bad luck, Jack knew he wasn’t alone. He had Zill, Spam, Vanexa, Jill, Kayla…all those who cared for him. His bandmates were the ones who helped save him from a monster, and it led to him being more tolerant of his curse. Zill had tried to “save” him multiple times by deflecting the bad luck events but Jack didn’t want him to get hurt. Instead of exhausting themselves to try and stop the curse, Jack’s friends helped pull himself together (literally and figuratively) and were simply there to support him after the bad moments. Although some of them were often preoccupied with lovers, they would always come back for Jack. For he was the silent supporting stone of their bonds.

 And now he had Cameron…a loving mentor…and perhaps a new mother-like figure in his life. Although he had a crush on her, it was not solely romantic. It was mixed with feelings of appreciation and friendship.

 Jack felt at home with himself for the first time in years. Because he realized an enlightening truth: not even a curse could keep his friends away.

 0 0 0

 Zechariah was busy jotting down notes at his desk when Cameron entered the room.

 “Z-Zechariah?” Cameron asked.

 “Miss Cameron!” Zechariah greeted. “Did your first session go well?”

 Cameron smiled, pleased to have helped out Jack. Helping others made her feel truly at home for the first time. “Actually, it really did!”

[arelya-andaria]

Vampire AU - Vines of Blood and Music - Extract 2

Wasn’t expecting to post this tonight, but as a thank you for the lovely words I’ve gotten, here’s a Christine POV, following from part1 https://arelya-andaria.tumblr.com/post/187061420290/vampire-phantom-of-the-opera-au-extract  :

Ever since he died, she hasn’t had the courage to go to that house. Lost in the middle of Provence, an ancient thing passed down in her family for generations. It’s a beautiful house, made of old pink stones, with few windows to keep the fresh air in, and a roof of red tiles. A garden of wild flowers and fruit trees.

Always felt like a fairytale home, especially when she was a young girl and her father drove them there to spend the summer, after a school year in Paris in their tiny flat.

She would spend her days running through the vines, drunk on the open air, the smell of lavender and pine.

The hills in the distance. The olive trees with their green grey leaves, the sun hot on her shoulders, the wind, strong and warm tangling her hair. The river that flowed down their property, lazy and quiet.

Her father would play, as well, and she was called home by the echo of the melody on the wind.

It was their refuge, two months during which she ran and sang and just was, free to be and live just as much as she wanted. They would play in the markets, in the small villages around their home, each more pittoresque than the other, on silent hills, nestled around forests and rock pits.

It was as if time had no empire on these stones, life going on as slow as it had been nearly a century before. The roads were still small and sinuous, passing through thousands of vine lands and around the hills. The cicadas’ incessant buzzing drowning every other sound, and the wind, moving in the trees.

It was that life she remembered, with tears in her eyes, as she made her way down from the capital. As she left the highway and took the small roads to reach their house, feeling the sun’s hot gaze on her hair, as unblinking as it had been five years ago. The last time she had made the journey, with her father.

Now she was alone, and she felt him by her side, could remember the giddy excitation she’d felt every time she took that road, the promise of two months of lazy walks in the paths around their house. The smell of the barbecues they made, how they would stare at night at the sky, how he would name every star they could see.

It felt like a lifetime ago, that giddiness and freedom.

After a day on the road, she reached the small path leading to their house. Her house, now. Everything belonged to her alone, now.

She couldn’t remember her mother, dead of cancer while she was still an infant. Her papa had cared for her, been her only anchor in that whole wide world, her stone house in the midst of a violent thunderstorm.

Now that he was gone, she was drifting, not knowing her way.

Still, she’d gone on with their shared dream: of becoming part of the Conservatoire in Paris, in singing. She had the voice of an angel, her papa always said, and she had attempted the concours, not once, but twice.

After this failure, she’d quit. Left Paris on a snap, taken the first road, back to where she’d started. Her dream had been everything to her, the only thing keeping her sane after her papa had left her.

And now…

Now…

What would she become?

What would she do?

Perhaps the answer was hidden in that old house, where her dearest memories still lay.

Her fingers were shaking when she opened the door. Inside, nothing had moved. The air felt stale, and she could see the small dress she’d forgotten on the top of a shelf, and how she’d whined when they’d left and she found it missing.

“You won’t need it,” her father had said. “We’ll get you another one for next spring, and you’ll get it when we come back.”

He had never come back.

She threw open the windows, letting light and wind enter what felt like both a tomb and a sanctuary. A place untouched by the sadness she’d felt.

On the mantel of the fireplace were her most cherished photographs: the three of them, mother, father, and baby Christine, here, for her first summer. She was a year old, and already had the first wisps of golden hair, and “the bluest eyes he’d ever seen”, her papa had told her.

She looked like her mother now, all Swedish, with perhaps a bit more flesh than she’d had, generous curves that had never bothered her.

Strong arms and thighs from running up and down the hills, from helping her papa whenever there was work to do to renovate that old thing they called a house.

In his eyes, she’d always felt beautiful.

Now all she could remember were the lines of thin girls waiting for their turns during the rehearsals she’d attended to prepare herself. They wouldn’t stare, of course, but that was what perhaps hurt the most.

She was invisible.

A shadow, alone and cold, in a city as grey and cold as she felt.

Now, with the sun hot and vibrant over the green hills, and the colors of a thousand flowers, she would feel alive again.

She wasn’t very sure where to begin, though.

Her parents’room, next. The bed, cold, and uninviting. The wardrobe, a huge wooden thing, sculpted when her papa would have a moment, one panel at a time.

She quickly left it alone, blocking the memories that threatened her.

Her room hadn’t changed, of course. There was still her teddy bear from her childhood, one she’d won at a nearby fair. The years and her constant attention had not been kind to it. He was missing an ear, and one of its eyes was nearly blind. Part of his face was half-chewed, from when a stray dog had found it in her errands and she’d screamed it away. Her papa had done his best to mend it, but he would always bear the marks of the encounter.

Still, he was fluffy and smelled nice and comforting when she hugged it, letting that small token calm her heart.

Erik, she’d called it. From the fairy tale her father had always told her, in the book from her mother’s childhood. A mermaid’s prince, mysterious and gifted, one she’d always loved.

“He will bring you luck”, her papa had said.

He had, over the years, as she grew into her talent, hoping to make a career out of that, as her papa had done. But it seemed now all the luck had run out, and she drew her gaze away from his warm but misshaped eyes, to sink into her bed.

She was weary and dirty from the road, with just some food and drinks waiting for her in her car, and she fell asleep.

When she woke up, it was night. The cicadas had quieted, the moon had risen, and there were no other lights than the stars, white points in a sea of impenetrable darkness. The wind was quiet in the trees, and it felt still warm.

She felt hungry, and went to her car to retrieve a few things to spend the night. She showered, and climbed onto the roof to watch the night sky, a sandwich in hand.

She could see her shadow, so bright was the moon. Her cheeks still felt wet and aching, from her earlier tears. Had it been a mistake, coming here? After all, if Paris had reminded her of her father, every single day, how could this place fail to do it, when every stone bore his mark? When they had put their love in each corner, every strike of paint on the walls?

The tears came back, when she had sworn a few months ago they never could, so much had she cried and cried. A great, deep well, never to end, never to dry, fueling the pain in her heart.

Numb. Despite the warmth, the silver glow of the moon, she felt cold and numb.

And during those times, there was only one thing that could ever hope to soothe her heart if only for a moment.

She closed her eyes, and started to sing. Her voice echoed on the surrounding hills, the sound pure and clear, despite the tears in her voice, the shaking at times, and she let it ring, over and over, the same verses never feeling quiet enough, never meaningful enough.

I miss you.

I love you.

How can I ever say goodbye?

Feeling like a waste of space, feeling like she would never be enough, never be good enough to fulfill their dreams. Her dreams, the fire in her heart, the star she’d kept burning, low and so vulnerable.

When she finished, her voice hoarse and tired, she didn’t move. The moon had moved, crossed the sky over to the west, and the stars had dimmed ever so slightly.

She could feel the tremors of dawn, the barely there brightening in the eastern sky.

Now her body felt numb, but some of the ache had quieted. Her head felt clearer than it had been when she’d begun. Not nearly enough to be sane, but it would have to suffice.

For now.

*-*

Thank you so much for reading, it means a lot!

[tanuki-kimono]

Japanese folk tales #63 - The contest

Find my tales tagged here or visit my blog for both english and french versions.

Wish me to cover a special youkai or subject? Contact me, I’ll try to accommodate ^^❤️

Once upon a time, there was in old Kyoto a wide sanctuary which was the pride of the locals. Dedicated to the thunder gods, the shrines stood at the North-East of town, shielding the capital from disasters and demons.

For those old days, many strange creatures still haunted Japan. And in the forest surrounding that holy sanctuary, a fox and a tanuki lived – but not in peace nor harmony.

The beasts were not friendly neighbors and did not get along well. Both sly and mischievous, they were also consummate shapeshifters.

All day long they competed, doing everything in their power to show off their skills and topple their rival.

– My, my friend. What a lousy trick is that? I can see a patch of fur peeking here.

Would the tanuki laughed.

– Well, well my friend. At least I don’t look like some plump sake flask.

Would the fox sneered.

And bickering would go on and on and on.

Of course one day, the two foes finally came nose to nose. The fox hissed between clenched teeth:

– I am the best shifter of all! Why can’t you fried-brain simply admit it once and for all?

The tanuki scoffed:

– Oh come on tofu-face! Even you could see how great my changes are… if only you weren’t such a snotty dork!

Finally, both had enough and, in the heat of the argument, the gauntlet was thrown:

– You, me. At the shrine, tomorrow morning. Let’s see which one of us is the best!

– The loser leaves the forest?

– Obviously!

And all was set and done.

The next morning, the tanuki entered the sanctuary on swift paws. Monsters such as him usually avoided such holy grounds. But mischief was mischief and the beast was on a mission:

– I’ll show that snobby how good I am!

The tanuki strolled for a while between buildings of bright red wood. He waited and waited, watching to catch any sign of his nemesis but nowhere the fox could be seen.

– That coward turned tail for sure!

Suddenly, a mouth-watering smell made his nose twitch.

– I smell… fresh rice yes and… oh crispy tempura! Yummy!

The tanuki ran on his little legs. And indeed, on a nearby bench, was a fine meal nestled in a beautiful black lacquered box.

The beast looked left and right but no humans were in sight.

– I guess I have not lost my time here today!

And with a delighted wolfish smile, he sprang.

In a puff of smoke, the rice evaporated and turned into the fox.

The tanuki, surprised and taken by his momentum, collided with the bench as the sly animal snickered:

– I definitely won!

Grumbling, the tanuki puffed his fur. Dusting his face, he mumbled:

– I want a rematch. Let’s do this again tomorrow!

The fox chirped and posing as a true gentleman, he gracefully accepted the challenge.

The next day, the fox returned to the sanctuary.

Sure of his talent, he crossed the grounds with confidence. Yet nowhere the tanuki could be found.

– That lazy animal slept in for sure!

The fox sighed and settled by the temple hall to wait for his late opponent. He had only starting to groom his fur to pass the time that a delicate whiff made his whiskers fluttered.

Alerted, the fox turned his head sniffing. And indeed, down the hall, set on the altar below the sacred mirror, was an offering bowl of freshly cooked fried-tofu.

The beast pricked up his wide ears, but no priest and priestes could be heard.

– Luck is with me today!

The fox entered the hall, silent as a shadow. He approached the wooden altar and rose to his hind legs, mouth already watering.

But he was not able take even one bite. In a swirl of leaves, the bowl disappeared, leaving in its place the tanuki who rolled with laughter:

– It’s the biter bit!

The fox too was a sore loser

– It’s a draw! I called for a playoff and…

He could not finished his sentence. Thunder roared, making the whole shrine shook. The two animal jumped into each other’s arms, trembling.

The tanuki stuttered:

– Was that what I think it is?

The fox whispered:

– All things considered, holding our contest in a consecrated temple might have been a tad too m…

Thunder rumbled once again. And the beasts ran away without further ado, vanishing in a blink into the forest.

It is said that this misfortune did not stop fox and tanuki from bickering. But, on common ground, they never brought their games to the sanctuary ever again.

Even the most skilled shape-shifting monsters do not dare to rouse the thunder gods.

Notes:

This tale takes place in an ichi no miya, a first rank shinto sanctuary. Kyoto’s ones are the Kamo-jinja : those twin sanctuaries (dedicated to the thunder kami Kamo Wake-ikazuchi) have been built alongside the Kamo river, whose Nord-East direction is of bad omen in traditional geomancy, to shield the ancient imperial capital from evil.

Kitsune (fox) and tanuki (racoon dog) are animals who were thought to have similar uncanny shape shifting abilities… and some stories stressed the heavy competition between those two youkai. Usually though, they got along well enough : kitsune were more posing as nobility or pretty ladies, while tanuki loved pretending to be merchants or shops owners.

It is funny to note that those animals are said to be so fond of some foods that their names have been given to popular dishes. A tanuki-don is a bowl of rice topped with tempura crusts, while kitsune-don is topped with abura age (fried tofu). You can also find many variations such as the well known tanuki/kitsune-udon, thick noodles dressed with those animals favourite toppings. Yummy !

[pictures sources: 1 / 2 / 3 ]

[eponymous-rose]

Weird request, but you summarize stuff. I've only caught a few episodes of Critical Role but am curious about Kima and Allura. What's the story there? Don't worry about spoilers, I'm never gonna get caught up on this show anyway, but I am curious!

Oh gosh! Okay. This actually dovetails nicely with some logistical stuff I need to figure out for reasons, so hey, here’s my really long-winded summary (and other folks, please chime in if I get something wrong, there’s a lot of ground to cover here ranging from pre-series to right up where we are now):

So, basically, Allura (human wizard) and Kima (halfling paladin of Bahamut) were part of the same adventuring party, and their exploits culminated in a big ol’ boss battle fifteen years before the start of Critical Role against an ancient red dragon named Thordak. Their party managed to seal Thordak in the Elemental Plane of Fire, but in the process three members of their party were killed (Sirus, Dohla, and Ghenn), leaving only Kima, Allura, and their elementalist friend Drake Thunderbrand standing at the end of it.

In the wake of the battle, the three of them went their separate ways, despite the romantic relationship that had developed between Kima and Allura. Allura accepted an offer to become a member of the Council of Tal’Dorei in the capital city of Emon, but Kima wasn’t exactly keen on a political position and traveled north to the holy city of Vasselheim instead, where she worked with Highbearer Vord, the leader of the Order of Bahamut. Kima mentions in early episodes of the show that she and Allura would still try to meet up every few months for drinks, but their lives were pulling them in different directions. 

Matt’s made it pretty clear that Allura still spent a lot of time thinking about Kima during those years---in his playlist he posted way back in 2015, he says of Allura: “So long as protecting the realm means protecting this one person, then all the toil and challenge is worth it.” Kima also wound up struggling a lot with her faith in the wake of all the evils she’d seen, and frequently butted heads with Highbearer Vord and the more straitlaced folks she worked with.

Fast-forward fifteen years, when Kima starts to get visions of a terrible evil brewing under the dwarven city of Kraghammer and rushes in half-cocked. Allura starts to get worried after several weeks pass with no word and hires a group of adventurers that she’s worked with in the past to go find Kima---the adventurers, of course, are Vox Machina, and this push was the impetus for the first on-stream plot arc of the show.

Vox Machina manage to get Kima out of a bad situation in the Underdark, and then they all wind up embroiled in a conflict against a particularly corrupted beholder named K’Varn, who’s managed to get his hands (eye-tentacles?) on a Horn of Orcus and is sort of chilling with his mind flayer pals as a lowkey champion of the god of undeath, which is not fantastic. VM kill K’Varn, and together with Kima (who’d been turned to stone by a basilisk, thus beginning her longstanding pattern of bad luck on missions involving VM) just barely manage to escape via teleportation circle back to Emon.

After a Weekend-at-Bernie’s-esque pub crawl with Kima still in stone form, the party finally manages to restore her, and they all head over to explain the events to Allura. Allura is delighted to see Kima again, and they have a tearful reunion. Kima does travel with VM back to Vasselheim to seal the Horn of Orcus in the Platinum Sanctuary (a temple of Bahamut), leaving Allura in Emon. VM eventually moves on to the next plot, leaving Kima in Vasselheim.

Once VM finishes dealing with the next major arc of the show, the end result is a tiny floating, spinning ball in a forgotten ziggurat under the human city of Whitestone that also happens to nullify all magic for a wide radius in its vicinity. You know, your standard everyday stuff. Completely out of their depths, they ask Allura to travel to Whitestone and check it out while they return home to Emon, a decision that possibly winds up saving her life.

Allura heads to Whitestone and brings Drake Thunderbrand on board to evaluate the situation with the orb. When some of her arcane connections with cities across Tal’Dorei start to go dark, she heads back to Emon to report in to VM at their Keep just outside the city and figure out what the heck’s going on.

She and Drake arrive to find the party in the middle of a very serious argument, on the verge of an all-out brawl, over a magical skull housing some sort of entity that claims to be able to grant any wish. Why is a wish particularly tempting right now? Oh hey, turns out four ancient chromatic dragons, the Chroma Conclave (excellent 80s band name), just attacked Emon, killed most of the Tal’Dorei Council, made a beeline for and destroyed Allura’s home, and are spreading out to destroy most bastions of civilization across the continents of Tal’Dorei and Wildmount. When VM reveals that the leader of the group was Thordak, the same dragon that Allura and Drake barely survived sealing in the Plane of Fire, Allura is in shock.

Allura and Drake head out to the ruins of the Cobalt Reserve in Westruun to try and find some information that could help them defeat the Conclave. VM eventually make their way to Vasselheim in search of allies, and are startled to discover that the city is unaware of the devastation happening across the ocean. When Kima finds out about the destruction of Emon, she’s frantic and her first thought is to find a way to get to Allura. VM manage to assure her that Allura is as safe as anyone can be right now, and Kima joins them on their disastrous journey to the sunken tomb, where they face another beholder and Kima is nearly killed by a long fall in the battle. In the aftermath, she makes her way with the party back to Whitestone, and finds out for the first time that the leader of the Conclave is indeed Thordak---the news puts her into an uncharacteristic state of panic.

While VM travels around in search of ancient weapons to help defeat the Conclave, Allura eventually turns up in Whitestone, which has become the unofficial seat of a new war council. By the time VM shows up again, having killed one member of the Conclave, Kima and Allura are both there to greet them. At this point, the two of them have moved into a house in Whitestone together (there’s a cute moment where Vex knocks on Allura’s door early in the morning and Kima answers it in a too-big nightshirt) and are helping to coordinate studies of the orb under Whitestone as well as the defense of the city itself, once it becomes clear that forces are amassing there. Kima takes out a would-be assassin who comes after them in their home (part of an elaborate rakshasa revenge plot; Gilmore pulps his assassin, it’s a whole thing).

Kima winds up accompanying VM on their mission to Draconia to kill Vorugal, a member of the Conclave, and discovers before leaving that another member of the Conclave, Raishan, has been (in disguise) in Whitestone for some time, that she knows all of their secrets and could wipe out the last form of resistance in an instant, and that the party has worked out a very shaky secret deal with her, since it turns out they all want to kill Thordak. Despite Scanlan’s attempts to modify her memory to make her forget this revelation, Kima knows about the infiltration, and agrees to move forward with the plan regardless. The party manages to kill Vorugal and return back to Whitestone, at which point Raishan’s identity is revealed, for better or worse, to the entire war council.

Kima and Allura go to Fort Daxio to help coordinate troops for a final push against Thordak, who has settled down over the city of Emon and is slowly shaping the land into some sort of super-evil volcano. As you do. At Fort Daxio, Gatekeeper Xanthas, a former ally from Emon, reveals himself to have switched allegiances to work with Thordak, and manages to cast a Feeblemind spell on Allura. VM shows up in time to take Xanthas out and reverse the effects of the spell, at which point an extremely shaken Kima and Allura have their first “on-screen” kiss.

After Thordak is defeated, and Raishan escapes an attack from VM in the immediate aftermath of the battle, Kima and Allura accompany VM to Raishan’s hideout on the Island of Viscan, which once served as the home base of long-dead necromancer Opash. After some shenanigans with gravity-reversal and a whole lot of undead bodies, the party battles Raishan, with both Allura and Kima coming very close to death in the fight. In the aftermath, the party tries to escape the island with their dead and wounded... and discovers when their first spell fails that this island has some defenses in place against transportation magic.

Allura eventually manages to put down a teleportation circle and step through, but Kima hangs back a second, telling VM that something looks off about the circle. Before anyone can decide what to do, Kima resolutely steps through after Allura, and they both vanish. Keyleth manages to scry on them and discovers that they’ve landed in open ocean somewhere, which is bad news if you happen to be in full plate armor, like Kima. Through a complete fluke of a dice-roll (natural 20 on a perception check), Keyleth manages to spot them from the beach---swimming in the wrong direction and already exhausted---and Vex shoots out after them on her broom. 

She grabs Allura, Allura grabs Kima, and bookish-wizard Allura, zero-strength-modifier Allura manages to roll a natural 20 on her strength check to hang on to Kima until they get to safety.

In the aftermath, Allura and Kima are helping to put things back in order in Emon, ensuring together that more shadowy organizations like the Clasp don’t make too much of a bid for power in the chaos. When VM heads out on their next adventure, Kima makes sure to tell them that if they see Highbearer Vord, they should just pretend they haven’t seen her; she’s staying with Allura.

[kainfamilyfortune]

Silas - Journal Entry #42-44

42. Echoes.

I was surprised the most by the change in the air - how the endless fall of the Eversong forest leaves clung to the end of my boots and the area seemed so enriched in the leyline energy. Although it inspired a melancholy for Rustberg, I already missed the snow and quiet village. I walked a distance off the trail, knowing full well of the wildlife in these woods being far more dangerous, I’d rather have to fend off a springpaw, than with the local guard. Or worse.

Luckily the woods were calm on this day, the bright oranges, deep crimsons from the leaves and creme color trunks guided me as I lost myself in distant memories of only a year after I was raised. It all seemed like yesterday - I guess when you’ve been unable to actually sleep because... well...you’re dead, it really does make all the days blur into one another. Like the same day I arrived in this forest nearly five and half years ago is unchanged from today, but I know better. Thousands of lives have been lost in that time span, yet it seems that I walk the same path as I did then. I don’t know why now I heard Vindilah’s words, asking if my history was repeating... “Only now it is elves and you have a choice. Or do we really?"

Do we? Have I traded cowardice for control? Watching my history unfold before me. Do I actually have a choice? Or will I simply be another pawn again. Light. Have you forsaken me? I have been nothing but faithful, letting you guide me - blindly at times, but in the end I have survived and my path was clear. You bestow me with great power, yet pain that is nearly unbearable now. I am nothing but dust, yet you hold me together... What am I worth to you?

My down spiral of thoughts was perturbed by the rustle of a nearby bush, I quickly gathered my senses noticing the coloration of the woods were turning a sickly green and blue up in the distance as I ducked into the trunk of nearest tree. I peered where I had heard the noise as a springpaw cub emerged stealthily, luckily seeming to not notice where I had sneaked off to - but my anxiety quickly heightened as I saw another more threatening visage. The dark haired flowed from the male sin’dorei, with form fitting dark navy leathers, nocking an arrow, eyeing the target. I ducked back down, hearing the whistle of the arrow finding it’s target. Do not move. A few seconds went by, hearing the elf speaking in thalassian, muttering to himself. Do. Not. Move.

I heard him unsheathe his knife and skin the kill, the patter of small feet - I did not dare look to see, what I assumed, would be his hunting companion darting around the woods. After a moment I heard the latching of belts as he stowed away the animal pelt and meat he deemed worthy - footfalls followed after, away from where I had ducked away. I peered across the canopy to see a horde insignia on his bicep, bow at his back, trailing off in the distance, hunting companion no where in sight. I hid there in the brush for what seemed like an hour - making sure there was distance between me and the hunter before scanning the area, ensuring that the coast was clear. I stood slowly and continued my way south towards the Ghostlands - Edmundo’s last project.

43. Blind 

The hut was just how I remembered it from the outside, it bared the forsaken crest in brass on the small wooden door. This was the desolate council’s small little foothold - undocumented of course. Light knows this building wouldn’t be standing before me if it was. The architecture didn’t match anything of the surrounding buildings we would typically research, although they long stood abandoned, the elvish architecture was something to admire. Maybe for another day. No, this hut was inconspicuous, a small wood cabin covered in moss to match the very ground so it could easily be dismissed by any without a keen eye - and then there were the wards as a second measure. I pulled out my forsaken emblem, the very same I had torn off my satchel and lifted it high above my head as I approached the sanctuary, I hope it still held it’s charge.

The crest glowed fervently, the untrained eye would see nothing but a small unassuming hut, but to those that knew what to find would see the barriers, one by one, as they fell - suppressing noise, arcane, and finally truesight - the perimeter of shields swallowed me as I pushed towards the door of the hut. I knocked twice only to be greeted by silence. A grasped the door handle and entered the hut to find the small space, ransacked. Research papers drenched in mud and boot marks line all corners of the space, dim candlelight illuminated the back corner writing nook where I spent my second summer writing my third and forth thesis's on Zul’Aman - I closed the door behind me and took a closer look at the space.

Droplets of crusted blood, sprayed across a large stack of paperwork, with the candle  - Whatever it was... It wasn’t recent, maybe two or three weeks at most but it still filled me with unease as I felt a familiar cold chill. “Did you think he would have answers?” She said wryly, I turned to face the aberration of the dust-like human girl leaning against the opposite counter. I shuddered, stepping back. “What are-how did you-” I was at a loss of words. “Don’t you worry child, your ‘protections’ are still active, I’m just above them. Now, while you are here..”  The candle flickered with an unusual glow as she raised her arm sparking a chaotic dark energy as it flowed into my arm - I tried to gain back control but she bent it to her will. I snapped. “No. No, no, no.” My arm grasped a sheet of paper on the desk, lifting it to eye level, “Read. Silas, it’s the only thing you’re good for.” 

The parchment was burned at the edges, written in Edmundo’s hastily written chicken scratch, in a modified version of gutterspeak. 

Silas,

There is no HopE. you must run. Before they takE you. tAke your Sight. Take your light. she Will be waiting. In the place where it is hidden. Light. Light. Don’t come looking for me. I will be finE. 

Hide. Yourself. Just keep running. All will reveaL itself in time.

-e.a

I read aloud but it only angered her. My arm began to flare in pain and she screamed, and I began to wonder if she could feel it too as she lifted her arm to her head, recoiling as she began to wither slowly. Now was my chance. Clutching the letter, I knocked over the candle stick, fire erupted across the research papers and vials of ink, spreading flames along the hut, I bolted out not thinking twice. I ran, gasping for air I knew I didn’t need, I clutched the crest once more to protect me from the barriers. I didn’t dare look back, but what I could hear from behind was the eruption of flames and the screaming call of the banshee. 

(TW: Self-Infliction, Lite-Gore)

44. Into the Fold

I ran into the forest for hours, heading north for some reprieve. I knew I would need to make camp or find an inn that was off the beaten path - something. My arm still ached, it was a sharp pain, I wondered how much myself I was risking, my sanity was one thing, but my body... no I couldn’t continue to think that I was growing to become a weaker version of myself every day that I walked this earth. I needed to remain somewhat hopeful, despite everything around me being cursed or loaded up with blight. I had to calm down.

The lush forests returned to their orange, yellows and maroons, as I slowed down, leaning at first against a creme colored trunk and then falling to my knees, completely exhausted. I sat under the canopy assessing the damage to my arm. I flicked off the glove on my right arm to reveal the bone dust fading in it’s normal light infused glow. It seemed faded along with what appeared to be a black spot, filled with void energies, the perimeter around the mark seemed to eating away at the light, while the light was fighting back attempting to close the portal. I stared back into the absence, wondering what it could mean.

Nothing good. I thought to myself. I grasped my ceremonial knife, I knew what had to be done... I shaved away under the dust layer, slowly inching away at the top of my wrist before cutting my the hand I had written nearly all my works with. As I did the pain seized into a dull ache before bone dust began to shift like sand on the upper portion of my arm, no longer filling to act as ‘skin’ but knowing I needed my appendages. Fingers began to sprout from the dust, although it was bone-like in structure, it would do better than nothing at all. I prayed silently, thanking the Light for my gift. I knew that the ‘flesh’ would return in do time.

I wrapped a piece of clothe that I exchanged my glove for in my satchel upon my newly formed hand, it would have to do for now to begin the healing process. I concealed myself in my cloak and began to walk down the path, hoping to find shelter for the night.

The tavern I settled in costed me forty-gold for the night but they didn’t ask names and I didn’t frequent with any regulars, simply went up to the room and grabbed Edmundo’s letter. I began dissecting it and noticed the odd capitalization and recognized it as a very simple cipher we used to use back for council meetings:

THE BEAST WILL DIE. HYJAL.

Beast? Hyjal? Like Mount Hyjal in Kalimdor - I’ve never set foot on that ancient ground, let alone know even how I would get there. But beast? This was the only scrap of information I could get. All will reveal itself in time as Edmundo stated, but he knew as patient as I was, they would surely find me. 

She would find me.

(OOC: Gods, what a ride it’s been over the last few weeks, been trying to finish this set of entries for awhile now, been just in a slump with work and life so attempting to not burn myself out and taking my time. I’ve had that little voice in the back of my head of just like ‘Are you doing this right?’ ‘You should really follow up with the people you’ve made RP commitments to’ ‘You should level your alts and gear Thea already’ - Then I launch the game, fiddle on Silas for half an hour and feel unmotivated to go to events or seek out RP.

So I’m sorry - I’m making a conscious effort to get into better habits, like this weekend I got Thea from ilvl268 to 310! I got Silas to 386! Woot! Then I’ve been leveling a B-Elf Hunter and just got him out of Deepholm, he is level 89 [Also he made a special appearance in this entry]! I’m excited to go to Monday Night Mixer tomorrow at the Raven! It’s progress if nothing else!

As always, I love feedback, negative or positive because I’m still really new to all this stuff and like Silas I’m learning everyday, if you ever want to reach out to be a part of the story don’t hesitate, trust me you won’t be bothering me, you’ll be helping me! Thanks so much for reading <3)