#i'm sticking to reading only during daylight hours

[hikikomero]

"i have experienced higurashi many times, i know the plot forwards and backwards, i will be fine reading onikakushi at night"

reader, i was not fine.

[highgaarden]

quick, sick rampage

rating: t pairing: harry/hermione tags: professor harry potter, head girl hermione granger, nothing untoward happens (i'm sorry about it too), a bit of light angst to brighten our days, unbeta'd we die like cedric read on ao3

—

Her new Defense professor is a war hero.

Strong-jawed, slumped shoulders. He looks like he’s constantly just come in from the rain on a lightning-struck night, with his dark trenchcoat, mended many times at the hems, and the slightest tremor of cold in his fingers. His office smells of cherry tobacco, resinous and inviting and dark and sweet, ash scattered uncaringly on the floor around his desk. He catalogues their practicals with sharp eyes, like a snake waiting to strike. He never speaks more than is necessary.

And he looks tired.

Perhaps the only animated thing about him is the shock of black hair that spills over his forehead in unruly curls, too wild for a comb or even a gentle touch. Not that she is thinking about touches, gentle or otherwise.

He is, quite possibly, the youngest Defense professor they’ve ever had.

This has nothing to do with anything.

Believe her.

—

Her new Defense professor is everyone’s favourite.

Everyone flocks to him after every class, his seat during mealtimes – never fixed, one day it’s by Professor Dumbledore speaking in revered, hushed tones, another it’s between Professor Hagrid and Professor Sprout, caught in conversational topics that sound, frankly, bizarre and dangerous – always has visitors, his office hours constantly booked.

Hermione is hard-pressed to ever find an empty slot when she’s filling up the request sheet, and she’s Head Girl. Ludicrous. Surely her final year project should take more precedence than some first year’s essay on how to bottle fame or something trivial like that.

“Potter isn’t like that,” Ron shrugs in between bites of egg and sausage. His lips are shiny with oil, dark, decadent, always stretched around a spoon or a smile. “He actually cares, a strange concept when you compare him to Snape, I know.”

Hermione flicks her eyes to the Professors’ table. Professor Potter is slumped, as usual, over his coffee. Black, charmed to remain piping hot. Toast, minimal butter. An egg and a sausage and something that passes off as a respectable portion of fibre. He looks like he is badly in need of a cheroot, his preferred cancer stick.

The first time she’d seen him smoke in one of the private rooms of the library, she’d been shocked. Appalled. Unnaturally curious.

Why would you smoke? She wants to ask. You spent all those years as the boy who tried to live.

He’d glanced at her, put it out hurriedly, and apologised – that was perhaps more shocking than the actual smoking. On school premises! – and swept out of there faster than she could pick her jaw up from the ground.

“Professor—” she’d called out, but it’s lost to the wind blowing in from the open window.

—

Her new Defense professor had gifted them a world free of war, but that didn’t mean remnants of it weren’t everywhere, sombre and still, scorched brick that she suspected were left untampered on the Ministry exterior to serve as a reminder to all.

“Right,” Professor Potter announces. “Er, single file, I suppose? And remember to not wander off from your groups if you feel like poking your nose about where it shouldn’t be poking.”

He glances pointedly at Ron, who snorts but looks secretly pleased at the attention. Hermione is annoyed. She does not want to be a delinquent by proxy. But she cannot quite suppress the shiver that passes through her shoulders when she feels Professor Potter’s eyes on her.

It’s all that green. Like sunlight filtered through a bottle. The inviting dark of the Forbidden Forest, eerie even in daylight. Iron cauldron bottoms worn from years of resisting fire. The full force of his gaze can be quite disorienting despite his kind, tired eyes; she wonders if that is why he never quite looks at any of them in the eye.

“Get ready for an insightful day of educational fun,” Professor Potter mutters, more to himself than to them, as he eyes the tall, imposing doors of the Ministry of Magic. From anyone else it would have pulled a few groans, but the winter-hush air is subdued. Everyone knows the events that happened here.

“Exciting chap, isn’t he?” Ron whispers in her ear. Another shiver. It’s a very cold day.

Professor Potter raises his knuckles, thinks better of it, and reaches for the door handles.

The door parts to his touch.

—

Her new Defense professor has a corner table at the Leaky Cauldron, shadowed from the light of any windows by strategically-placed shelves. They weren’t there last year.

He drinks Newtgin, straight, one olive. He smokes the way he cannot in Hogwarts.

Hermione stumbles in with an armful of books from Grimble’s Grimoires, hastily orders a Butterbeer, and slips into her chair between Ron and Seamus. Dean is talking about football (he is always talking about football), and Ron and Seamus are pretending to care, because they’d seen Professor Potter trade trivia with Dean about West Ham United last week.

Parvati has a magazine open in front of her, but she and Lavender are openly-ogling Professor Potter. Ginny looks annoyed by this: she’d been rallying for their good professor to join their weekly Quidditch practices, but Parvati and Lav’s giggling seems an effective repellant to that.

Hermione, for some reason, is incensed as well. If she’s going to be forced to relinquish studying hours to watch Ron hit a few quaffles around with the tail-end of his broom, she might as well have some productive debate.

Not that she imagines what it would be like to debate Professor Potter. To ask him about the scars on his neck, the dark magic he’s seen, the dark magic that lived inside him for half his life. She does not have conversations with him in her head. She doesn’t.

And even if she does, it’s purely academic.

She has a healthy, curious, academic appetite for his achievements.

Believe her.

By Merlin, believe her.

—

Her new Defense professor is in the same room she is.

The alcohol-fueled chatter of Professor Slughorn’s Christmas party do not touch them here, it is dark enough to hide her tear-streaked cheeks, but not dark enough to mask the green of his coat. Because of course he is wearing that drab coat of his, still, when everyone is in their finest festive robes.

Hermione herself is in a dress that Ginny had helped choose and Parvati had helped order; her hair, magicked smooth and lustrous for once, is falling out of its elegant bun. She is beautiful, she knows that, beauty is subjective, it has taken her years to get here, shut the fuck up.

Her mind should be her deadliest weapon but in a room full of mistletoe and faerie-light she had wanted so, so, so much to be beautiful. Feel beautiful. Something. Whatever.

And Ron had looked right through her and snogged Lavender.

She is not fucking crying over Ron Weasley.

She’s crying about unfair standards of beauty she will never reach.

She’s crying about years of unintentional neglect and barbs that hit too close to home by virtue of Ron being a stupid boy.

She’s crying about the patriarchy, that too, yes, fucking believe her.

If she tells Professor Potter this, maybe he’ll believe her.

He’s looking at her like he’ll believe her.

Watching the swish of her robe sleeves as she swipes furiously at her cheeks. She pushes her hair behind her ears - she’d never been good at controlling her magic when she’s caught by her emotions, and tonight’s rather devastating events had caused her hair to spring free of its smoothing charms. She feels the tendrils of her hair tickle her jaw. Professor Potter tracks that, too.

“Sorry,” she sniffles, oddly comforted by the turn of events.

“No problem,” Professor Potter replies. There’s a cheroot between his thumb and forefinger, newly lit. This had been the ideal room to not-cry into, near enough to the party but far away enough to not have any interruptors to her whatever soliloquys she might have bursting from her chest.

Professor Potter seems to have had the same thought.

This, too, comforted her.

Oddly enough.

She stands there in the doorway. Her shadow falls over the tips of his dusty boots.

She makes no move to leave.

Neither does he.

His cheroot is still smoking between his fingers.

Put it between your lips, inhale, exhale, look away, she wills furiously. Desperately. This is her classroom too. She’s lost so much tonight, she will not lose this. Smoke your damn cheroot and look away like you always do.

Professor Potter puts it out. He does not look away.

She takes this as an invitation to close the door behind her.

He makes space for her on the table he’s perched on, and after a few seconds of making herself comfortable, they stare out the window together, pretending they see things moving in the black night.

—

Her new Defense professor does not cover her hand with his.

Not even when she starts sniffling.

Not even when her shoulders start wracking with sobs.

He sits by her, not asking any questions, because she suspects he knows a thing or two about not being able to have all the answers to this frightening, damning world they live in.

She thinks he knows what it’s like to be so sad and not know what to do with it.

He sits by her, letting her cry, smelling like cherry tobacco. Sweet and dark and tempting and utterly forbidden to her, something her parents have warned her about, but she can’t remember for the life of her.

It would be nice, she thinks, to put something between your lips and swallow some sin. Forget about the world for a while. Grow old together by this stupid window, but Professor Potter does not touch her, and she does not wonder.

And he does not leave her there, either.

He walks her to the Head dorms and leaves with a sweep of his coat.

She is not disappointed in his excellent show of professionalism and morals. She is not disappointed by him.

Daring war hero, the stories said. Brave, brilliant, bold boy. Myopic, magnificent man.

He would never, she would never.

Believe her.

By Merlin and all the Muggle Gods just fucking believe her.

[sitontheground]

#WitchesForBLM

So, I know I don't exactly post much, if at all, but in light of recent events in the US the majority of witches on both tumblr and tik tok have decided that on Friday June 5th, we were all going to be casting spells of protection for the protesters as well as hexing and cursing the cops and the white supremacists who oppose them.

While I am not American (I'm from Canada) nor am I a person of color but I have always been one for activism and fighting for the rights of those whose voices aren't heard or are purposefully silenced. I don't post about it because I don't post much of anything at all. This platform, for me, isn't about making my voice heard but appreciating others' work and words. I also don't particularly care for speaking about my craft much because it is something I find very personal and don't much wish to have others peering in on my personal affairs.

And yet, despite my private nature and lack of desire to post about my activism, I have made the decision to share what I did during the full moon to work this cause into my craft.

For any who have questions or complaints about how I did what I did or why, my craft is my own and I just follow what feels right. If you try and do or say anything to me that I feel is in anyway attacking me and my practice I'm just going to block you. You have no place sticking your nose in my work and I'll not thank you for it.

My Full Moon BLM Support Ritual

As a preface, a lot of the ingredients and items I used were already prepared. Most by happenstance as they are things that I typically keep on hand. The only thing I didn't have in my back pocket before I began was one of the sigils I used.

I also meditated facing the south. Facing the direction of the people I wanted to protect.

Ingredients:

Charged water (I used storm water*)

Charged crystal (I used my fluorite point for the reason that it often amplifies my emotions*)

Needle

Black thread

Orange paper**

Purple paper**

Stick of charcoal (for drawing)

Sigil of protection

Sigil to hex the oppressors

Sachet of protection powder***

Music to increase emotion**** (optional, to be played during both halves of the ritual)

Note: both of the sigils that I used will be shown below

I started when I heard whispers from the witchblr community members that I follow about the full moon being used to help the protesters. That day there was a storm where I live so I was already collecting storm water, but I made sure to separate some for the specific intent of using it on the full moon.

Friday night, I gathered my ingredients and created a sigil for protecting the protesters. I am aware that the eclipse would likely have a negative effect on most protection spells, but the spell I used was one that I created and use without the power of the full moon more often than not. The power of the spell comes entirely from a sacrifice I make for it, which I will explain in more detail later.

Take the storm water, the sigil of protection and the protection powder.

Meditate on the sigil to charge it.

Take a pinch of the powder (A Pinch. You don't need more than that!!!) and sprinkle it in the water.

Swirl the water clockwise 3 times to increase the power of the powder while mixing it in (I had the water in a small Mason jar with a lid so I could swirl it in large movements to incorporate the powder properly without spilling)

Take your right index finger and dip it in the water

Drip 3 drops onto the paper with the sigil

Meditate on the sigil again, focusing on the power of the water sinking into the lines of the sigil

Drink the water with the protection powder to cast the spell

Fold the paper with the sigil on it 3 times, being careful not to rip the wet paper, and leave it in a window or outside until daylight.

Note: the protection powder tastes Bad. Really really really bad. This is why a pinch is more than enough. I usually keep something around to wash the taste out of my mouth when everything is all said and done. This time I used hibiscus water, but usually I use tea.

And that's all there is to the first part of the ritual. Really that can be done at anytime for anyone as long as you have a sigil that corresponds with them.

The next part of this was the part where I actually drew upon the power of the moon.

Take the other sigil, the needle and black thread, and the charged crystal.

Meditate with the crystal in your dominant hand and the hexing sigil in your other focusing on the power that the crystal is feeding into you and pushing it out with your intent through the sigil in order to truly focus the energy you're sending out.

Tear the paper with the sigil on it in until it is in small pieces. As you rend it apart, feel the fire of your anger and the anger of all those fighting for this cause and send it out into the world with every tear in the paper.

Using the needle and the black thread, pierce the center of every piece of the paper until they are all strung up.

Bring all of the pieces together on the string and wrap the thread around the 3 times

Tie a knot in the thread.

Wrap the thread and tie the knot 2 more times.

Cut the thread and cast away the bundle of thread and paper however you see fit (burning, burying, tossing in the trash. whatever works for you)

And that’s that on that. I began my work at midnight on the full moon and when I was finished I was exhausted. I had a headache and my hands were shaking and I just wanted to crawl into my bed so much that I almost forgot to ground myself at the end which would have made everything so much worse the next time I woke. If I were to do it again, and I probably will, I’d make sure to give myself some time in between spells, which I did not in this case. In fact, I’d suggest that if you were to attempt something similar to this you should do them completely separately. However, due to that fact that the moon was in Gemini it felt right for me to complete two spells during it.

And now onto the notes.

*In regards to my choices of charged water and crystal, I have to note that I base my practice by what feels right at the moment. I’ve gone into spells with something in my hand that, by the time I get around to using it during the casting process, it no longer feels like the right tool/ingredient to use and I have gone to find what does feel right, or at least what feels best. The use of storm water has to due with how the chaos and anger that comes from the people on the front lines of this movement feels to me like a storm overhead. They were patient and they brewed this storm for centuries, waiting for us to notice it and do something to lessen the blow that it would cause. But eventually, as all storm must, the thunder rang out and the sweeping gales of wind told everyone just what was going on. Storm water, for this particular variation of my protection spell, seemed very appropriate. I used my fluorite point because whenever I’m working a particularly emotional spell, whether it is my emotion or someone else’s, I use this crystal because it amplifies what I’m feeling and it gives that emotion power.

Also this is my fluorite point.

**As most will suspect, the colors of the paper do signify different things, but if you don’t just happen to have colored paper hanging around white paper would work too. Again this was something that I just figured felt right at the time. I used the purple paper for the protection sigil. Purple, to me, is a regal color that signifies wisdom, power and good fortune. I used the orange paper for the hexing sigil because orange is the most infuriating and aggressive color I could think of (psychologically speaking the color orange is the most likely to send a person into a fit of rage). 

***Alright, so for most of the above I have been rather vague when it comes to the protection powder, but that’s because it is a recipe of my own creation that I have reliably used for a couple of years now and I’m proud of it. It was one of the first things I ever did when I started my craft and I haven’t ever felt like something that I should spread to the masses. Now, however, I don’t feel that same hesitation when it comes to giving the recipe so here it is. 

1 part garlic powder

1 part  cumin

2 parts cinnamon

1 park Himalayan pink salt

1 sprig of cedar, dried and crushed as small as you can make it

When I first made this recipe, I didn’t do anything with it besides mix it all together and put it in a small velvet bag that I got with an old pair of headphones. I soon learned that just mixing together a couple of spices doesn’t exactly create a protection spell and thought it a failure. right as I was about to tear the page with the recipe from my spell book, I decided to meditate on it for a while. That night, I took the little bag with the powder into both of my hands and began to meditate. When I came out of it, I realized that 4 hours had passed by and I could feel the energy from the powder in the bag. So, to make long stories short, you have to key this powder to yourself first. Since then, I have used it as a protection for others by using the same powder that I mixed a couple of years ago that has protected me for that long. I take some of that powder and, using the charged water, I key it to the other that I want to protect, and then by drinking the water I am sacrificing the strength of my protection spell in order to cast one on someone else. This is why I didn’t see an issue doing this spell during the eclipse, which I have read can be a force of undoing. I had no issue casting a hex during the eclipse because I wanted to see the undoing of those that I was trying to hex, but the protection spell will not fail because I didn’t pull on the power of the moon.

****Yes, I listen to music while I work. On the night of the full moon, I was listening to Freedom by Beyoncé ft. Kendrick Lamar on repeat during the whole shebang. When I work, I am incredibly focused, so much that even the slightest disturbance to my balance will send the whole spell crashing down at my feet. If I were to work in silence, a single pin drop could cause me to lose focus and the spell could go awry. So, usually I will put on a single song that reflects the work that I am doing. Either that or I go to ambient-mixer.com and find some background sounds that I can customize and put on for myself. I chose the particular song that I did because both artists are POC angd it sends a message that aligns with the intent of both of these spells.

Sigil of Protection

This one I created myself.

Hexing Sigil

This one I did not create myself. The wonderful ceramyn here on tumblr created it, so this is me crediting her work.

[adventuresintraumaland]

Hey there! I'm in year 2 of my SICU job, and it feels like a "sophomore slump" moment. Advice on how to stay motivated and on top of my game? Also, general work-life balance advice for the night shift life? Thanks!

Hey there!! Congrats on making it to year two!! As for the sophomore slump.. well my solution was to completely change specialities at month thirteen of being a nurse! Hahah. But if you like your speciality then don’t do that.

In order to keep yourself interested in your job try new things! Maybe volunteer to float to other places if needed, learning new skills and new disease processes will always keep you on your toes! 

Now that you feel a little more settled in your own routine, try to offer your coworkers help whenever you can! Once I really got things down I found I had a lot more time to offer others and I know my coworkers appreciate that. Plus you won’t get bored as easily. 

You could also look into becoming a certified RN at some point. You usually have to have two years experience in your field to take the certification exam but its never too early to start studying! You might learn some things you never knew or learn new insights into your patients. 

Look into your hospital’s career ladder. It’s usually called something different at every hospital but it helps you build your nursing portfolio by earning points for different things. Sometimes you get points for being a preceptor, for getting your RN-C, getting new certifications, attending workshops, etc. 

Look into learning something new. Whether its getting new certifications, like ACLS, EKG, NRP, PALS, etc. You never know what your next job might be and each course usually involves learning new skills and material. You can also look into some conferences or workshops specific to your speciality you could attend and your hospital may even pay for you to go! Bring back what you learn to your unit to help make things better! 

Get involved in nursing projects on the unit. Things like: CLABSIs, CAUDIs, wound care, hand hygiene, etc. Volunteer to research things, or collect data or crunch numbers for your educator or manager. 

If you’re truly just bored working night shift (listen I’ve been there, when night shift is boring its boring as hell), pick up a new hobby. Hopefully one that its okay for you to do at work like: knitting, crocheting, crossword puzzles, sudoku, or reading. That’ll help those long hours pass. 

As for general work life balance and working night shift… well I only did it for about 9 months and honestly I never got very good at it. But some of the things I did notice that helped were,

Figure out what sleep schedule works for you and stick to it! Seriously. Sleep when you need to so you don’t feel like a zombie. But also try not to sleep all your days away. 

Make sure to spend time outside during the daylight hours, this will help you feel more awake and just happier honestly. I actually feel like I had a little more time to spend outside when I woke up before night shift because I usually naturally woke up around 1600/1630 which was earlier than if I had been working day shift. So I’d take my dogs for walks or sit on my porch and enjoy the sunshine. Go to a park, ride your bike, hike, whatever you enjoy. 

Indulge in self care. Things like: long baths, getting your nails done, getting massages, taking naps, reading a book, spending time with a good friend, taking yourself on dates to the coffee shop. Whatever you enjoy, take the time for it. Being a nurse is hard emotionally and physically so do what you can to make your life easier and to help you relax. (I think I’m going to do a longer post about this!). 

If after a year or two night shift is not getting easier or its truly wrecking your life, talk to your manager, see if you can switch to day shift. If that’s not an option and you’re truly unhappy you make have to look elsewhere to work dayshift. Working night shift is definitely not for everyone! 

Hope this helps and thanks for the questions!! 

[jacobstone]

I sat on a bus in traffic today for three hours, so I ended up writing another 1200 words for the Librarians Angel AU on my phone. It's coming along, but { { p a i n f u l l y } } . I'm so bad at writing short things. A prompt for you: Ezekiel and whoever, “It hurts, the hungry it hurts.” ;) Have fun!

Okay so I’m not even going to pretend this didn’t take forever to post but I hope it satisfies! I may have gone waaaaay off topic but it’s still the same fandom;) Anywho, I’m so happy my prompt has run away with you! I hope to read it one day! So here’s to you, my friend!

And the Hunger

“It hurts,” Ezekiel moaned from the back of the group. The thief was holding his stomach and slowly walking as he complained to his companions. “I’m so hungry!” The complaint echoed in the thickly wooded area. And of course they would be stuck in a large forest with no way to contact Jenkins or Eve or Flynn. They were on their own and without supplies. Cassandra groaned and Jacob threw his hands in the air from the front of the group. “We know, Jones! Just shut up!” Jacob burst out, his frustration at their current predicament coming through. His own stomach growled in protest and he pointedly ignored it. “Jacob,” Cassandra grabbed his arm and halted their progress. “We can’t go on much longer. We need to rest. Ezekiel is on the verge of collapsing.” She tilted her head in the direction of the weak thief. “But stopping makes us lose daylight and–” Cassandra glared at him. “Fine. We rest for a minute.” Ezekiel was already sitting on a nearby log, having flopped on it as soon as they stopped walking. Cassandra went over and sat next to him and Jacob got a good look at them. Ezekiel did look exhausted, a frown on his face as he wrapped his arms around his rumbling stomach. Cassandra wasn’t too different, though she looked more tired than hungry. Jacob could imagine he looked similar to them. But they were Librarians; they could handle miles of woods, right? No matter the hunger that they were experiencing, they could handle it. From what little he knew of his friends, he knew they would get through it. Ezekiel was a thief so he likely was used to the feeling of hunger. Jacob tried not to think too hard about what that implied. He knew that Ezekiel would rather throw himself off a cliff than be pitied.Now Cassandra on the other hand likely never had much of an appetite anyways, so he assumed she would be okay. Jacob knew for himself he would make it out fine, experience with long workdays and no breaks back home making him prepared. That and it wasn’t their stomachs he was worried about. “Why aren’t we thirsty?” Jacob suddenly asked, the danger signals flashing in his mind. He motioned all around him. “We’ve been walking for what? Four hours?”Cassandra’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. She seemed to be doing math, but it was hard to tell.Ezekiel just scoffed. “We should be thankful that we’re not.” Jacob thought he just sounded like he was sulking now.“Four hours and thirty-nine minutes.”Cassandra answered in a tired voice. Jacob slowly turned in a circle, scanning the woods around them. Something wasn’t right. At a constant pace, walking for four hours in the terrain of the woods should’ve had them wanting at least a small cup of water. “Something’s not right.” Stone voiced his thoughts out loud.“I know. I’m starving!” Ezekiel complained in a slightly pained voice.Cassandra looked between her two friends, concern and puzzlement on her face. She tried comforting the groaning Ezekiel.Jacob ignored the soft assurances of Cassandra as he watched the sunset, the feeling of unease only growing in his chest. The shadows of the trees expanded and elongated eerily, making Stone move closer to his friends. He took notice of how quickly the light of the day was snuffing by the dark hand of the night. “We need a fire.” Stone turned back to the thief and synesthete. He couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable they looked huddled up together on that log. Starting a fire became priority number one as he saw a slight tremble in their bodies now that they stopped moving and the sun was going down. That and it would help for protection. Problem was: Jacob couldn’t see any useable firewood in the area. Which meant…He would have to leave them alone to find any. Stone swallowed thickly. Cassandra and Ezekiel were tough people. They weren’t chosen as Librarians for nothing, he knew. But with Eve gone and the uneasy feeling he had stabbing his chest with each breath, Jacob had a hard time battling the decision to leave them. He knew that it wasn’t his responsibility to take care of them, but he couldn’t help himself. Ezekiel and Cassandra have saved him countless times, so he knew that he wasn’t alone in that sentiment. “I’m gonna get firewood. You stay here, together, and rest.” There, that sounded casual and not like a pleading demand to be safe or a worried mother.Stone internally groaned. He was becoming Eve.Cassandra stared at him with that knowing look of concern that he’d last seen when he left a control room in a facility overrun with werewolves. Ezekiel was too exhausted to protest his leaving.Jacob took the gift of their silence and quickly jogged away from them, searching the ground for viable wood. The first trip was to acquire enough firewood to just start a fire. Jacob was glad that it took minimal effort to get the fire going. It was during his last trip to get enough wood to last them through the night that his heart stopped in a shocked terror. Screams.Stone was running before the firewood he’d dropped even touched the ground. Heart pounding, he ran back towards his friends, but tripped when something grabbed his ankle and pulled. He landed hard on a tree stump and it felt like the air in his lungs was compressed for a moment. His chest finally came back to life with a painful inhale. Rolling off of it and on his back with a startled groan, he blinked a few times to adjust his eyes. He couldn’t.Everything was dark.Jacob’s heart pounded. A sharp pain stabbed his abdomen. Another scream.He pushed himself up and continued on as fast as he could in the darkness.Jacob skidded to a halt when the light abruptly returned and he saw what was happening. A dark shadow in the vague form of a large and unnatural human, practically loomed over the unconscious body of Ezekiel as Cassandra cried out from her hunched position beside him. The fire was quickly dying, and as it waned, the shadow grew.Jacob lunged for a stick in the fire, his right hand burning from getting too close, and he used the small torch to slash at the shadow. The shadow was at least partially corporeal as it started to burn when the fire came near it. The black form sizzled in the places where the fire touched it, creating holes in the unknown creature. A screech tore through the air and the vague shape fell to its knees as it burned away completely. Stone didn’t waste any time. He quickly grabbed some more wood from one of the dwindling piles he got earlier and put it on the fire. It was lucky that his only defense turned out to be the creatures weakness. Jacob built the fire large enough with most of the wood he had planned to save for later. It was only when he felt it was safe enough to leave alone for now that he immediately knelt next to his friends.Ezekiel was still unconscious but he was covered in sweat and trembling. Cassandra wasn’t too different but she was aware and awake, if only barely. Her arms were tightly wrapped around her middle.She whimpered. “Cassie.” Jacob slowly put his left hand on her face and brought her unblinking gaze to meet his concerned one. “Cass,” he tried again.“Jacob?” Her tentative voice finally exposed recognition and he could’ve jumped for joy if the circumstances were different. And if he were the kind of person to jump for joy.But he wasn’t, so he simply gave her a small smile.“Thought I’d lost ya there for a minute. Are you okay?” She bit her lip.Ezekiel moaned. “It hurts.”Jacob tried not to sound too relieved at the sound of the thief’s voice as he turned to Cassandra. “Cass I need you to do something for me. Can you–”Cassandra’s eyes widened. “Jacob behind you!”Stone turned just in time to see the shadows peel themselves away from the general black void of the encompassing darkness. There were two this time around and Jacob quickly grabbed the makeshift torch he’d used earlier, wincing at his aggravated burn on his right hand. With no time to switch hands, he swung at the first one that got close enough, and he heard the familiar sizzling. “Cassandra! Grab a torch and defend Ezekiel!” Jacob spared a glance back at the redhead and was relieved to see she was already doing what he asked.But she was weak and the shadows were closing in.Cassandra fell once more to her knees, feebly using the last of her strength to defend against the looming shadow creature.Jacob swung viciously at the creature he was fighting and turned away before the sizzle reached his ears. “Cass!” He shouted.Anger boiled inside him, much fiercer than whatever these creatures were doing to attack them, and lunged in front of Cassandra and Ezekiel to take on the shadow. “Stone!”Instinctively turning, he saw the darkness quiver as three more shadows emerged, and they headed straight for Cassandra and Ezekiel. Jacob felt a sharp pain in his abdomen once more, forgetting about the shadow he was battling, and he turned back to find it gone. A shiver ran down his spine.Something wasn’t right.Ezekiel screamed.Stone spun around just in time to see a shadow creature touch the thief and be absorbed into his body. His blood ran cold.Cassandra cried out as a shadow touched her and disappeared.Stone was frozen and felt another pain from inside him.But he knew what it meant now.Ignoring the shadows behind him, he stumbled towards his friends. The shadows were closing in on them. He felt another touch his shoulder from behind and the stabbing pain in his abdomen accompanied right after.Jacob fell to his knees in front of Ezekiel and Cassandra. His friends were practically catatonic. He was failing them. His arm burned.Stone grabbed the edge of a burning stick and hurled it at a shadow closing in on Cassandra. Picking up a torch, he swung it wildly to keep away the darkness. The flame was the only light.Light in the darkness.His arm was ablaze. He rolled up his sleeve to see the tattoo glowing like a fresh brand. Jacob inhaled abruptly as his veins felt like they contained liquid lighting. The pit of his stomach was a ball of fire and he would’ve screamed if he could. His vision started to fade and he desperately hoped Cassandra and Ezekiel would make it.The last thing he saw was white light.Then darkness.“Stone?”Jacob opened his eyes to see Eve hovering above him, tapping his cheek. “Baird.” His voice was practically gravel. “What happened?” Jacob squinted and saw daylight and trees past Eve. The forest.Jacob bolted up quickly, groaning when his stomach clenched and his body protested harshly at the movement. Eve seemed to translate his question properly.“Hey, take it easy. Cassandra and Ezekiel are fine. They are right there-” Eve pointed to the two half dazed looking Librarians.“-and in one piece.”Jacob sighed and rubbed his temples. “That’s good.”“Yes well it won’t be if we don’t get them back to the Library soon.” Jenkins came in sight with a bottle in his hands. “I’ve been able to hold them off with a warding potion, but we need to get them out of you two as soon as possible.”“Them? The creatures?” Cassandra’s weak voice asked as she hesitantly got to her feet.“Two? Not three?” Eve caught the detail.“Wraiths, I’m afraid. They feed off of hunger and desire and need.” Jenkins held out a supporting arm for the redhead. “And yes, Colonel Baird, you heard me correctly. Mr. Stone does not need my help.”“What? Why?” Jacob’s puzzlement was expressed in drawn brows. “Your soul burned them out of you, a self preservation measure I’m sure from the linking soul magic on your arm.” Jenkins pointed to the ink symbols exposed on Jacob’s forearm, red around the edges like a brand. “Why did they target us?” Ezekiel changed the subject suddenly as he still sat on the ground, looking pale and almost sickly.Jenkins sent him a level gaze. “The only life for many miles…don’t be mistaken that you are exempt from basic human emotions, Mr. Jones. Anyone is susceptible to attack.”Ezekiel lowered his eyes.“You heard him, let’s get moving,” Eve said as she held a hand out to Jacob. Ezekiel got up unsteadily, turning green and promptly bending over and losing the contents of his stomach. Jacob scrunched his face in disgust. “I got it. Help him.” He motioned over to the pale thief but Baird was already halfway there. Jacob shook his head and moved to stand, but let out a hiss as his right hand pressed on the ground and his chest spasmed in pain. Glancing up to see if anyone noticed his moment of pain, he was relieved to see everyone occupied.Stone stood with what he hoped was minimal looking effort. Staying on his feet was harder.“Ezekiel?” Eve rubbed the thief’s back. “Why is he worse than Cassandra?” She wondered aloud.“Maybe because he feels more need than Ms. Cillian, therefore the Wraiths targeted him first.”“But he will be fine?” Cassandra sounded like she was trying to make the question a statement.“Yes, if we get him cleansed, as with you,” he told Cassandra.Jacob felt his gut clench with a different sensation.Worry.“How far away is a door?” Stone asked and Jenkins glanced up from his gaze over Cassandra and Ezekiel. “It is a five minute walk.”“Then we better hurry.” Eve supported a barely conscious Ezekiel.Jacob stumbled forward, seeing the look Eve sent his way.“I’m fine,” he mumbled and stood straighter in defiance, even if his body screamed at him for it.Jenkins nodded and led the way, supporting Cassandra as she became weaker. Eve was behind them, practically carrying Ezekiel at this point. Jacob brought up the rear with the argument that they needed someone to watch their back just in case something happened.They made it to the Annex with time to spare.It wasn’t until Cassandra and Ezekiel were safely de-Wraithed and laid on their own cots, that Jacob breathed normally again. He watched them sleep as he leaned against the center table, reassuring himself that they were okay.“You saved them, you know.” Eve came to stand next to him, her shoulder softly bumping his. “Even if your light didn’t kill the rest of the Wraiths, which it did, we still would never have found you if not for the large magical signature of bright energy that came from you.” She poked his chest. “Your soul saved them. So take the win. Oh and get some sleep.”