#i found a new sandbox to play in and wrote like three chapters immediately

[krisanderwrites]

Malachite and Sparrow 01

When I first moved into the dorms at Elsewhere University, everything seemed so vague and ethereal. Choose a nickname to go by? I had never had one before. Leave out creamer at night? Read poetry to the crows? Give Them offerings of bread. Well, I already had given them some of the soft pretzel I had brought from home, watching their black feathers gleam in the sunlight. They were nothing like the baby birds I had carefully hand-reared by instructions from wildlife rehabilitators. The crows were too orderly as they picked over the morsels I offered. I went with the name Sam, after my childhood pet. My first roommate never appeared. The RA assured me that everything was fine- just a mix up in the paperwork. I told him about my plans- biology major with a chemistry minor, becoming a veterinarian or forest ranger eventually- and he laughed and said that I would be alright. He reminded me to just carry salt packets in my pockets and wear the iron washer I had been given. Silly school traditions, I had thought to myself. Still, there was no harm in following his advice. I supposed reading to the crows would be at least a way to pass time- perhaps I could even study. Every day I would spend my time between classes reading aloud from my textbooks to them. Very few seemed to take an interest in my droning, often leaving for higher branches once the food I had brought was eaten. I made very little progress in the way of making human friends as well. Long hours studying and social anxiety kept me from interacting with any classmates unless absolutely necessary.

Slowly I began to withdraw. I spent more and more time indoors with the curtains drawn. I would go days sometimes without eating and nights without sleeping. I still cared for my potted plants and attended classes and studied, but everything was becoming dull and dim. I went through many electronics as my phone and laptop inexplicably would short out with little to no reason. I avoided calling my family. They always asked too many leading questions and I had never been any good at lying. At times the washer around my neck felt unnaturally heavy, like it was weighing me down, but I did not dare to take it off when outside my dorm room. Even as isolated as I was, I heard the stories. People who went missing and only sometimes came back. People who were avoided by fellow students until they packed up and went home. I did not want to end up like them. Home had no place for me anymore. It was not until near the end of my first year that I met her. Her nickname was Malachite. She had olive-toned skin and dark brown hair that reached her waist. Striking up a conversation about video games, of all things, she wormed her way into my life. Once there, she never left. I began collecting tidbits about her as time went by. She collected gemstones and crystals, embroidered things by hand, and drew in her spare time. At any point in time she had many pieces of silver jewelry on her person (not necessarily being worn). Although undecided in which she wanted to focus on, she was a foreign language major. She came from a big family but somehow felt just as alone as I did. At first we only hung out to watch shows or play video games, but quickly it became apparent that we had many other things in common. We shared book recommendations and downloaded music and even favorite snacks. I told her everything- from my perfect older sister and doted-upon baby brother to how I apparently could never do anything right to my long abandoned dreams. Eventually she was spending more time in my dorm room than in her own. Her roommate went missing for a week and then came back... different. Unsure as to where she had been, we were a little concerned. Eventually she disappeared again, this time along with all of her things. Malachite and I agreed to become roommates at the start of the next semester. I stayed on for summer classes just to avoid going home (avoid seeing familiar strangers). The entire time she was gone, I thought about what my family wanted me to be versus who I wanted to be myself. The conclusion I came to was that I had to let part of myself go to become someone I could live with for the rest of my life. I changed my nickname to Sparrow. It was time for me to spread my wings.        *        *        *        * When Malachite returned from the summer, she seemed profoundly relieved to be back on campus. I myself was profoundly relieved to have her back. She took the name and pronoun change in stride, gleeful that I was comfortable enough to try and become my own person. Together, we brought her things up to the room and unpacked.   Negotiations for the room were easy- I got the bed furthest away from the hall so that I could perhaps sleep on occasion and she got the better closet. My comfy reading chair was agreed to be a timeshare since it was literally the best place to curl up with a book and I often studied while in bed. We took turns getting snacks or take-out food. I rolled my eyes when she glued salt to the floor and windowsill, but there were certainly people with weirder habits out there. She made me get out and go to the dormitory cafeteria for breakfast each morning. Together we went to the occasional gathering and I began to meet more people. When she could, she often joined me during my study sessions with the crows. Sometimes she even read her own selections to the crows, which were definitely more popular than my textbook sections. Her days of blasting music on her mp3 player were also well received by the birds. I learned more rules. Never say thank you or sorry in public, underwear was to be worn inside out for luck, and stay away from those promising to sell or trade things. Everything continued on as normal until one day when a fellow student from introduction to sociology showed up in my dorm. He asked me to see to one of the crows if I could, as it appeared injured. I gathered what supplies I had nearby and rushed out the door. Finding the bird was easy enough, but capturing it was another matter altogether. Eventually I managed to coax it within reach with calm words and bits of a sweet roll. The silly thing had managed to run afoul of something with a wicked set of claws. Luckily nothing looked too bad besides its eye. Frowning, I asked it to wait in a nearby tree. Getting pain meds was the hardest part, especially considering apparently no veterinarian normally visited the campus. One finally gave in and accompanied me to the place, eyeing the crows with frank unease. He gave me what I needed and instructions, as well as antibiotics. In return I very carefully never used his name. Medicating an unwilling patient was not a new task for me, even if the swearing definitely was. However, I got the crow cleaned up and diligently doled out treats to wash down the drugs. After a few weeks his scabs were almost gone and his lack of sight from his injured eye never stopped him. Even after his pill bottles were empty, he begrudgingly hung around me in exchange for snacks. The next week a cat limping along on three paws approached and mewled plaintively. Pulling the thorn out of her paw pad seemed strangely prophetic. Two days after that, another student brought me non-descript brown bird (the species of which I am still not sure) tangled in fishing line. The very next day I had my first human patient, a shaken freshie who needed stitches. I began carrying medical supplies in my messenger bag, along with all kinds of food. There is a saying on campus: One good turn deserves another. My first contact with anything that could be considered the Gentry was a person who stared a little too intently at me on my way back from a late afternoon class. I was on my way to the place where the crows gather to study, but the sort of prickly feeling that you get when someone is staring at your back forced me to stop and glance around. They seemed polite enough; however, their voice rung strangely through the air. When they asked me what I wanted in exchange for my aid, I was at first confused. After clarifying that they were not in need of my services immediately, I assured them that I expected nothing. Aid freely given to those in need that I could help. The being gazed a bit longer, eyes almost glowing yellow, and then finally made a pleased noise. I was declared a healer and handed a small golden medallion. They told me to break it in half should I ever find myself needed aid myself. I told them it was a very thoughtful gesture and that was that. When I informed Malachite about the incident, she got a faraway look in her eyes. The very next day she presented me with a gift of her own. A talisman made by her on an iron chain- to replace my freshman washer, of course. The fact that she also had her own copy was entirely besides the point, she declared. However, she was quite confident that the talisman would help one of us locate the other should we ever become lost. To humor her I wore it at all times.       *        *        *        * I had no idea that my interactions with the Fair Folk would only increase as time went by. I still continued to care for the crows and cats on campus, as well as the few wildlife, but every now and then someone would ask me to see something... else. The creatures would often look like a normal cat or dog, but none of the physical parameters made any sense. The people who asked were always a bit... odd yet polite. I chose my words carefully and kept my talisman in plain view, working diligently with what information I had that could be extrapolated to different species. The first party I attended (as a sort of lookout for a friend) put me face to face with a charming man with flame hair that most the guests were ignoring. After striking up polite conversation with him for a while, he suggested a game. The stakes were small and I had never played poker before; to this day I still have the distinct impression that he let me win. In exchange he changed my voice to the perfect tone. I traded it back thirty minutes later to keep a hapless girl from going home with him, amusement on his face as he watched me escort her to her dorm. I quickly learned that not all fae were as discerning as the ones I normally dealt with for my healing. Some took advantage of those who were desperate when making deals. One of the freshies lost their eyes in what was reportedly a "lab accident" if anyone actually believed the official announcement. There was a frog-eyed boy at the annual costume party that I watched like a hawk as he interacted with increasingly buzzed classmates. My friends always noted that I had a bit of a knight complex; I felt useless when I could not help others. Worried, I began amassing even more knowledge. Not just anatomy or physics or pharmacology, but legends and superstitions and even more inorganic chemistry than strictly necessary for my degree. A scientist at heart, I of course never took anything at face value. I asked around campus to find out what worked and what did not. On my own I conducted experiments. Knowing I could not lie, Malachite made me promise not to interfere. She told me tales of what happened to those who did not mind their own business when it came to the Gentry. Although it almost physically hurt to see others making mistakes over and over, I kept my end of the bargain. As long as it did not concern me and I could not easily prevent it by dealing with the humans, I stayed out of the way of the fae. I still healed animals and fed crows and handed out offerings and gave plastic beads to Jimothy. Somewhere along the way I gained a second nickname: Captain. Undoubtedly it began as a reference to Sparrow, and I expected to hear nothing but pirate jokes for the remainder of my time on campus. Instead, the people who most commonly called me Captain were those searching for my help. Occasionally they needed things that I could not help with, which left me turning to Malachite. She gladly pitched in as well- creating satchels full of gemstones to ward off nightmares or making salves out of my potted herbs and flowers. Together we ended our second year wiser and closer together.