Dusk had fallen over the town after what seemed like a whirlwind of a day. The trio had managed to exit campus without issue—even the rain had remained intermittent which only irked Lacia considering she’d been caught in the morning deluge.
Unfortunately, the school day seemed to have one more surprise; Mana had forgotten her bag in the Nurse’s Office. The school gates squealed to close just as she realized, but with a little luck, she was able to run back in to retrieve her bag.
“See? The teachers aren’t all bad, Lacia,” Mana said triumphantly.
Lacia sighed, throwing her hands up. While she appreciated something other than doom and gloom for the first time all day, she remained unsettled. What would happen now that classes weren’t effectively paused for the foreseeable future? A week of relative peace had been a blessing—no more nightmares, or night-sweats, but another, less frequent, dream she’d had bothered her. What did she mean by “final performance” and why did every dream or nightmare involve water in some way?
“So, uhh, priorities. We could use shelter from the weather and someplace to use as a hub,” Brendan said, snapping Lacia out of her daze. “We definitely can’t stand here and wait to get soaked.”
“Oh,” Lacia piped, “Mana doesn’t have anyone in her apartment right now, so why don’t we use that as a meeting hub? I mean, we can use my house, too, but her apartment is closer.” She looked to the sky as fresh, dark clouds swirled overhead. “I don’t care where we go, but I’m tired of being rained on.” A stark wind caused her to shiver.
Mana nodded. “Let’s use my apartment for the night and, in the morning, we can head over to Lacia’s house. Sound good?”
“Yeah, that works for me. I have spare bedrooms and bathrooms, too,” she noted. She turned to Brendan and smiled. “There’s no time like the present,” she thought.
“Brendan,” Mana said, “I think maybe you should pack the stuff you need and bunk with us. There’s no telling what’s going to happen from here. Besides, there’s safety in numbers, after all.”
She expected at least some level of opposition but, to her surprise, he was more open to the idea than she thought. “Alright. I don’t have much to grab, anyways.” He rummaged through his pants pockets, pulling a crumpled piece of paper covered in pocket lint from the fabric. “This is my address and phone number. Think of it as a sort of emergency contact type thing. Also, it’s probably not a bad idea to have at least a general idea of where we all live, in relation to each other.”
Mana frowned. “I have another idea.” She pulled her phone out, made a few swipes, and held it out. “Here’s my contact card. Just take a picture and then text me. I’m not real confident I’d be able to find a small piece of paper in this bottomless thing,” she said, referring to the absurd amount of junk contained within.
“I keep telling you to clean that out,” Lacia said, frustrated. “Why do you have old movie tickets in here?” Lacia swiped her bag. “Candy wrappers, socks, hand sanitizers— What is this?” she questioned, holding up a suspicious foil wrapper.
Mana swiped her bag back, subsequently unwrapping the foil. “It’s a gummy candy,” she said, popping it in her mouth. “Now, how about we give Brendan your contact card?” A devilish smile crept across her face.
Lacia’s face reddened. “I— I’ll give it to him myself, thank you very much!”
Mana’s smile grew. “Ohh, I get it. This is about that little incident earlier, in the Nurse’s Office. It’s ok to be a little flustered. In fact, flustered is a good look on you!” she teased.
“Wh— what are you talking about? I thought you were asleep,” she said accusingly.
Brendan laughed. “You two tease each other and bicker like old women.”
“We do not!” the girls exclaimed in unison.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say,” he teased. He waved a hand over his shoulder, already several paces down the sidewalk.
“Wait,” Mana shouted. “You still don’t have Lacia’s phone number!”
“Mana! I said I’d do it!”
She winked. “Better hurry, then,” she said, chasing after Brendan.
Having successfully given Lacia’s contact card away, the girls parted ways with Brendan once they reached the center of town, waving bye as they promised to meet up with him later. Despite the ominous swirl of clouds overhead, precipitation remained light, a foggy drizzle incomparable to the earlier torrents.
The streets were wet as tire tracks demarcated the divide between wet and dry pavement. Earlier rainfall trickled into the sewers beneath their feet, the gurgling sound reminiscent of a bathtub drain. Foot traffic was limited due to the uncertainty of rain, but street shops remained well lit, ready to welcome any customers daring enough to brave the weather.
Captions rolled across the screens of infotainment centers and televisions placed in the windows—business as usual, it seemed. Headlines ranged from political discussions to stock markets, but one headline in particular struck Lacia as odd.
“Extreme Heatwaves Grip Southern Hemisphere.”
“Now that’s odd. Shouldn’t it be winter down there, right now?” she wondered.
“Everything okay?” Mana asked, noticing the distant look on Lacia’s face.
“Huh? Oh. No, no. It’s just… It’s winter in the southern hemisphere right now, right?”
“I think so, yeah. Why?”
Lacia grabbed Mana’s wrist, dragging her over to a live newscast. “Then, why doesn’t this make any sense? I mean, with all of the crazy weather here recently, do you think it’s just a coincidence?”
“This is a record-breaking heatwave,” the broadcast started. “Temperatures have easily exceeded record highs today. The highest recorded temperature for this day in any part of the southern hemisphere is a whopping thirty degrees cooler…”
Lacia remained glued to the screen, unaware of Mana’s efforts to drag her away. “Look, Lacia. You and I both know something feels off—we agree on that. What I don’t get is,” she rubbed the foundation from a small spot under her eye, “this.”
A small, pointed star appeared where Mana rubbed the makeup away; it resembled a middle school child’s attempt at face paint, but it was so symmetrical and looked completely natural. It was barely noticeable if someone wasn’t paying attention. However, upon further inspection, a faint orange tint could be made out.
“It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I just noticed it a few days ago,” Lacia said, trying to deflect the questions she knew Mana would ask. “It kind of throbs a teeny bit every once in a while, but don’t worry! It only seems to react to certain things.”
“How long have you known that was there, and why did you glob foundation all over it? I literally wouldn’t have noticed except that your makeup wasn’t as well blended as it usually is.”
“In my defense, I got rained on this morning, okay?” she pouted. “It appeared a month or two ago, I think? I don’t really remember exactly when, though.” She seemed just as puzzled as Mana.
Something didn’t add up about the mark, despite Lacia’s explanation. There was no doubt she was being honest, but that only confused her further. Why did its orange tint seem to pulsate like it was twinkling?
“Look in the window,” Mana instructed. “Is this the first time it’s done that?”
Lacia examined her reflection in the window, paying special attention to the mark under her eye. Panicked, she took a quick step back before, slowly, reexamining her reflection once more.
“This is crazy,” she said. “It’s kind of pretty though.”
“And that answers my question, Mana said. Craning her head out from under the awning, she gazed up at the clouds, their gray hues like that of a monochrome painter’s canvas. “Hey, maybe we should head over to Brendan’s early. It would be rude of us to keep him waiting.” Truthfully, she just didn’t want to get rained on, like Lacia.
“I,” Lacia said, turning to face Mana, “am a lady of class, and I will not tarnish my reputation by being late.” She placed a hand on her chest, imitating a dainty princess.
Mana stifled a laugh. “Only you would talk like that. When you find the card that says you’re related to a 12th century noble family, do let me know. Until then, let’s hurry,” she said, dragging Lacia along.
The walk wasn’t far. They passed a familiar toy shop along the way. They would secretly buy Christmas gifts for each other when they were little girls, though neither of them knew. A sign posted on the inside of the door read:
“Temporarily closed. Sorry for any inconvenience.”
“That’s too bad,” Mana thought.
It was her favorite toy store. Every year, it was her go-to place for a Christmas gift for Lacia—seeing it closed was painful. It was the last tiny semblance of a childhood she had left. The realization that those days were long-gone was a subtle reminder that, while still a child at heart, she would be turning twenty at the end of the year; she had to act like an adult now, not just for her sake, but for Lacia’s.
“I know what you’re thinking, and I’m just as upset. This place means a lot to me, too. I mean, it’s the last little bit of joy Azalea has right now,” Lacia said. “In a way, I guess its closure is kind of a reflection of our—” She stopped. “Of my life, lately. I go from perfectly healthy to nearly bed-ridden and, honestly, I just miss when life was easier.”
Like Mana, Lacia resented the idea of adulthood. Her final year before her twenties and she was spending it toiling in the depths of an unknown darkness she couldn’t escape.
“What a pitiful reality,” she muttered, turning away. “Sorry to hold us up. I didn’t mean to turn this into some kind of therapy session.”
Mana looked confused. “You’re fine, but what do you mean ‘therapy session’?” She narrowed her gaze. “Lacia—"
“Let’s get going,” Lacia said, grabbing Mana’s hand. “Besides, it looks like it’s about to rain again. Also, it’s fine. I’m just a little freaked out that we’ll be twenty next year, and all. The toy shop just, kind of, hit different.”
“No, I get it. It seems like nineteen has been two totally different worlds, hasn’t it?” Mana held her hands behind her back and smiled at Lacia. “It’s going to get better. Trust me.”
Raindrops sprinkled the girls as they looked to the sky. Clutching their school bags, they sprinted the rest of the way to Mana’s apartment. Hopefully Brendan wasn’t waiting in the rain. Since Mana had the only key, he would be forced to wait at the gate as his things got wet; she’d feel terrible if her and Lacia’s dawdling caused him any trouble.
Arriving at the front gate of the apartment complex, Brendan was nowhere to be seen. Mana heaved a sigh of relief. She held the keycard up to the scanner as the gate creaked open.
“After you, milady,” Mana teased.
Lacia gave her a sideways look. “I’m not living that down, am I?”
“Nope.”
The apartment was fully furnished, yet, for some reason, it felt empty. In the center room, a large couch lay opposite an LED television, placed atop a dark, oak entertainment center where a handheld video game console and games sat. Canvas print photos hung on the opposite wall. Some depicted aerial views of the town, likely taken from a drone. Other prints highlighted the beauty of winter: snow-covered trees, frozen lakes, and even miniature snowmen with tiny hairclips—Mana’s pride and joy photography.
“All of this rain has my bladder swollen like a balloon,” Mana said, closing the door behind her, “so I’m going to use the bathroom really quick. Make yourself at home!” She disappeared down the hall, humming all the way to the bathroom.
“This is such a cute little place,” Lacia thought, “but it feels so… lonely.”
The apartment was bathed in shallow daylight, but with the thick clouds, it felt cold and lonely. Searching for the overhead light switch, a sudden buzz on the intercom startled Lacia: it was Brendan. She’d completely forgotten about him once she entered the apartment.
“Hey,” she said, answering the call. “Mana’s in the restroom, but I’m sure she won’t mind if I let you in. Haha. Take a step back when the gate opens.” She ended the call, rushing to open the door for Brendan. “Is that all you brought?” she asked, staring at the two boxes next to him.
“Yeahhh… I don’t really have a whole lot of stuff, but I’m pretty happy with what I have, honestly,” he replied. “Besides, there’s no telling what we’re getting into, so the less stuff the better. Mana’s apartment seems to understand that fairly well.”
“Oh! Uh, let me help you!”
Brendan pulled back. “I’ve got it. Don’t worry. Besides, I can’t let a girl lift these heavy boxes. That would seem kind of insensitive.”
“Really, I don’t mind.”
He shook his head. “No arguments,” he smiled.
“What a gentleman!” she thought. “Though, I just wanted to be helpful…”
Finally, after what seemed like an hour-long bathroom break, Mana reappeared. “Oh? The two love-birds are back at it again, are they?” she teased, grinning.
“We are NOT lovers!” Lacia and Brendan shouted in unison.
“Sure, whatever you say,” Mana smiled. Growl. “I swear that was NOT my stomach,” she exclaimed.
“Um, it’s getting kinda late and I know I’m hungry, too, so why don’t we get started on dinner?” Lacia asked. “Any ideas?”
“Curry?” Mana suggested.
“I actually have a pretty good curry recipe if you two want to try that,” Brendan offered.
“Curry it is then,” Lacia said.
Three days had passed since the school sent everyone home, though the weather hadn’t improved much since. The only notable changes were Lacia's dreams. Now, instead of standing on an empty beach, she stood in the center of a crowded room, full of people she didn’t know.
There was a party-like atmosphere to the place, but something felt... off. No one seemed to notice, or acknowledge, her, for starters. With such a striking, red dress, surely, she’d draw at least a little attention, yet everyone continued on. Some people stood around a table lined with champagne glasses—lost in discussion—others hastily signed cards, attaching them to gifts before placing them on a table.
She leaned over the shoulder of one of the guests, catching a glimpse of the card in their hand: “Happy 19th Birthday, Lacia!”
Several thoughts crossed her mind: the birthday, the oversized celebration, and the lucidity of the dream. Her nineteenth birthday had already passed, so why it was being celebrated again puzzled her. Not only that, she didn’t know enough people to fill an auditorium-sized room. There had to be more than a hundred people in the room alone, not to mention the small group that was huddled outside. What baffled her most, however, was the lucidity of the dream: she could feel the soft leather of her flats, the way her garters pinned her stockings to her thighs, and she could smell the helium used to air the balloons. Why?
Exiting the party room, she ventured towards a wall of windows, away from the crowd. Gazing across the snowy landscape, a chill ran through her body. She crossed her arms across her chest for warmth as she continued to gaze into the dimly lit night.
A mangled sign at the edge of the road caught her attention, illuminated by a flickering streetlight. She mouthed the letters plastered to the face of the sign like a haphazard art project: “A Z A L E A.”
Her confusion quickly devolved into panic. She inhaled sharply. The letters began to melt, contorting into an unreadable sentence as the streetlight erupted into a flurry of smoke. She spun on her heels, hoping to relay what she’d just seen, but everyone had vanished—gifts and birthday cards included. She closed her eyes and pinched herself, trying to end the dream. Slowly opening her eyes, she found herself standing in the center of a snowy crater, confused and unable to speak.
Panic turned to terror as shadows danced before her, creeping ever closer. She bit her lip, trying to scream, shout—anything—but all she could do was stand there and cry. There was no logical explanation for the crater, or why she stood in the center of it. Her heart hammered against her ribs; her legs were stiffer than boards; her knees gave out as she collapsed, crashing into the snow as she shook with fear.
She attempted to stand, trembling as a violent wave of pain struck her. Not that she’d ever wanted to know, but she assumed this is what it felt like to be run through with a sword: her mouth filled with the bitter taste of blood, each breath took more effort than the last, and her stomach felt like it had been torn open.
Blood poured from her mouth as she clutched her abdomen. Unable to even sit up, she curled into a ball. Crimson puddles stained the white canvas of snow as she continued to bleed; nausea swept through her like waves on the ocean, unrelenting. She could feel her consciousness slipping, but what would happen if she blacked out? Would she die? Was she dying? With what little strength she could muster, she looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever lay beyond the shadows, an answer to her plight, only to be greeted by nothingness.
Maybe it was from the extensive loss of blood, but her head buzzed as if anesthesia had flooded her veins, forcing her into a slumber she didn’t know if she’d wake from. Moments later, she blacked out, snow slowly turning her red dress white.
“Lacia…”
Someone was calling her name, but they sounded hollow and distant. She felt caught between a dream and reality, opening her eyes only for her vision to swim as she fought back the grogginess of sleep.
“Lacia,” the voice came, louder.
She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to rid her body of sleep’s slumbering hold. Her eyes shot open as she squinted from the glow of the bedside lamp light. She looked around, recognizing the familiar layout of her bedroom: plushies lined the top of a bookshelf, nestled against the back wall, a television sat atop a dresser at the foot of her bed, and her was desk pushed against the window, curtains drawn.
“Lacia~ Heyy.” It was Brendan, but why was he in her bedroom? She took a deep breath, shifting beneath her sheets, trying to sit up. She was in her bedroom—not Mana’s apartment, which explained why they were both there, but the last thing she could recall was dinner—everything after that was blank.
“What are you doing in here?” she said hoarsely.
Brendan shushed her. “You have no idea what’s going on, do you?” The panic on his face didn't help her confusion. “Hang on. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared down the hallway.
A small thud and scurrying feet later, Mana appeared in the doorway, a mixture of relief and worry on her face, but she looked as if she might be sick.
“Lacia… How— What happened in here?” Mana looked to Brendan for an answer, but he shook his head.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Brendan said, re-addressing Lacia. “Try not to move around too much or speak. Your body will need the energy so it can heal—trust me.” He turned to Mana. “Can you see if there’s any handheld mirrors in the bathroom we can use?”
Without hesitation, she stumbled back through the doorway and into the bathroom; the sound of drawers opening and closing carried up the hall and into the bedroom. Brendan remained by Lacia’s bedside, gently grasping her hand, cold and clammy. She looked like death, but he would leave the final decision on that to her.
Moments later, Mana returned with a small, round portable mirror, placing it in Brendan’s hand. “Ok. So, this might shock you a bit, but take it easy. Alright? Just nod your head your head if you understand,” he eased.
She nodded.
“Good. Then, I’m going to hand this to you. Again, you might not want to hold the mirror out too far right away,” he said, handing it to Lacia.
She held the mirror several inches from her face, off to the side—just enough to see her reflection from the corner of her eye; what she saw terrified her. Dried blood crusted the sides of her mouth where it had dripped down her chin and splattered onto her neck; her eyes had gone from sapphire-blue to a hazy grey-blue, mired by purple under-eye bruises; matted hair stuck to her forehead from dried sweat, blonde waves now tangled and knotted from relentless tossing and turning.
As she began to understand the extent of Brendan and Mana’s own shock, her heart began to race, pounding against her chest, screaming for someone to put it out of its misery. Filled with anxiety, she attempted to steady her heart, but it was no use. She lifted a hand to remove the hair from her face; the sight of her vein-riddled hand and pale skin prompted a wave of terror-induced nausea. She placed her hand back at her side before realizing things were far more serious than she thought.
Fresh crimson stains soaked into the bedsheets, unabated as blood began to drip from the sides of the bed. If she didn’t know better, she would have believed the sheets came such a vibrant red, but she did; internally, she knew something was amiss. There was no reason for such an onslaught of blood, yet there remained no semblance of why she was bleeding in the first place.
Without thinking, Brendan pulled the blood-soaked bedding back to reveal an unusual wound in her side and torn pajamas. Her bruises were gone; in their place was an open gash that spanned several inches in length, parallel to her belly button. What had been a cottony-white pair of pajamas were now a strange reddish pink. The color reminded him of red food dye—never truly red but somewhere in between.
It took Lacia several minutes to fully process what was happening; she looked as if someone had dumped a bucket of red paint across her body. A new, dry cough only seemed to aggravate her precarious condition, red bubbles forming at her lips as she sputtered fresh blood. She moved a hand to her mouth just to find it painted red like her bloody sheets.
Mana promptly tore the tattered pajama top from Lacia’s body for easier access to the wound, but it was almost impossible to find; the entirety of her abdomen was a sticky, slimy mixture of sweat of blood. She swallowed her stomach.
As embarrassed as she was to be left only a bra and pajama bottoms, Lacia quickly forgot her shame. Mana’s face was startling, filling her with a new kind of fear: the eventual beratement from her best friend, seeking answers to why this was happening. She knew and hated that face, but she hated it even more, now, knowing she didn’t have an answer for her.
“Wait,” she thought. “The dream I just had… Did it—?” She leaned over the edge of the bed and became ill. “At this rate,” she huffed, “I’m going to die from blood loss, but my stomach—” A furious stomach cramp interrupted her.
“I’m no doctor, but you have lost a lot of blood,” Brendan said. “Stop moving around for a while so the bleeding will slow.”
“Brendan,” Mana said. “Rather than have an active conversation, I think it would be better if we just had her text us. But we can’t wait for the bleeding to ‘slow’. Use the bedsheets and make a torniquet.”
“Right,” he said. “You’ve lost too much as is, and if we take you to the hospital, you could bleed out.” He pulled the sheets from the bed, wringing them out before tightly wrapping them around Lacia’s body.
She screamed in agony as he tied the knot, squeezing the open wound. Beads of sweat formed across her forehead; her breathing became ragged. Her head felt like someone had taken an electric massager and placed it on her scalp; she was beginning to lose consciousness.
“Fu— Ok, new plan,” Mana said. “Your blood type is A. Since I’m O negative, I’m a universal donor. Brendan,” she said firmly, “this is going to be super unorthodox, but find some rubbing alcohol, two butterfly needles, and rubber tubing. I don’t care if you have to run to the nearest drugstore for some. Just— Please.”
“Mana,” he started, “a blood transfusion could put both of your lives at risk. Are you absolutely certain about this?”
She nodded. “We have no other choice, Brendan.”
“Alright.” He ran out of the room, scurrying around the house for several minutes before returning to Lacia’s bedroom. “This is as good as it gets, ok?” He placed a half-empty bottle of rubbing alcohol and clear, rubber next to her before disinfecting a pair of butterfly needles.
“Puncture a hole on either end of the tubing so the blood can move freely, then stick us.” She gestured towards Lacia then herself. “Lacia, if you can hear me, I need you to stay still so we can do a blood transfusion on you.” She looked at Brendan and nodded.
Carefully, he inserted the needles into Lacia and Mana’s arms. “You must know an awful lot about her if you even know her blood type,” he said. “By the way, how did you know she even had this stuff laying around?”
Mana’s gaze was transfixed on the exchange of blood from her arm to Lacia’s. “Let’s just say that, based upon what she’s told me, her parents prepared for anything. It was pure luck you were able to find it all.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“That’s fair, I suppose, but I’m pulling the needles as soon as she gets a little color back, ok? I don’t need two people bleeding out on me at the same time,” he said. “We’ll get her side of the story after she wakes up.”
Mana and Brendan took turns watching Lacia for the next several hours, though Mana was a little woozy, having given more blood than she expected. Still, Lacia seemed to be resting—peacefully. The earlier commotion seemed like a world away now; Brendan had taken the blood-soaked bedding and tossed it into a trash bag, Mana had scrounged Lacia’s room for a blanket—to keep her warm—and, finally, had dinner. The silence was bliss: no screaming, no crying, no shouting—just silence.
Unfortunately, as nice as the stillness was, there remained a glaring problem: neither Mana nor Brendan knew why she’d started gushing blood, or where the gaping gash on her side came from. What’s more, her bruises had seemingly been replaced by the new wound.
“Hey,” Mana whispered. “Are you just as lost as I am right now? Like, things like that don’t just happen for no reason. Actually, they don’t happen at all!” She fanned herself with her hands.
“Don’t overdo it. You gave a lot of blood, you know.” Brendan sat against the wall. “That torniquet… Under normal circumstances, that would never have been enough to stop the bleeding, but minutes after we walked in, it stopped. Is that not weird? It worries me.”
“Worried?”
Brendan nodded. “Look, if all goes well, I should be able to close the wound with my magic. I can at least shrink it. If I can’t, well, then we have a bigger problem on our hands.” He fixed his gaze on the ceiling. “Are you familiar with cytokine storms? Where the body’s own immune system produces an excessive, pro-inflammatory response to pathogens? It’s only a theory and doesn’t explain many of her other symptoms, but perhaps this is an extreme example of that.”
“I don’t know, Brendan. Maybe, but you said we’d have a bigger problem if you couldn’t shrink or close the wound. What did you mean by that?”
He scratched his nose. “I have two leading theories. That was the first one and, arguably, the best-case scenario. The other theory is hella complex, but I’ll give you the short version. Basically, her body could be rejecting a gift of sorts, something much bigger than me or you.”
Mana stared at him, eager for him to explain further. Brendan lifted himself off the floor, taking a seat in the chair he’d placed by Lacia’s bed. “You see, my family has passed down an old folk tale that bears hallmarks to just what is happening now,” he said, attempting to close Lacia’s wound.
A faint, green light emanated from his hands as he held them inches from the open wound. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, but the gash had started to shrink. He continued his explanation, still focused on healing.
“The tale says something about a tremendous power that will be bestowed upon a young maiden, something the likes of which the world has never seen. If she’s deemed worthy, she will be granted vast troves of knowledge and exceptional knowledge,” he said. “However, if she is deemed unworthy, there is the chance her body rejects the gift, resulting in, uhh… death.”
Mana was poker-faced. “Maybe it is a tale, and maybe it’s not. Either way, I feel like there’s a part of me that’s not all here,” she said, staring at the floor, "and that part of me feels useless. Either way, that all sounds eerily similar to a story I was told as a child, but it’s it been so long, so the details aren’t all there at the moment.”
“Two different families and one, similar, story. Now that’s interesting,” Brendan said. “Ok. Good news: I was able to close the wound completely. With some rest, she’ll be fine, but there’s more we need to discuss, too.”
“Actually, I need to come clean about something to you. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but my family has a long history of indentured servitude to families that were more magically gifted than us. At some point, however, one of our members, the Lhumin family, married into one of those families,” she explained. “Unfortunately, that’s all I can offer you—my head is splitting.”
She leaned against the side of Lacia’s bed, pushing her hair up with her hand. The combined effects of exhaustion, worry, and blood transfusion had taken their toll on her body; her face had drained of color.
Brendan walked over, placing his own hand to her forehead. “You’re running a fever. It’s low-grade, but you definitely need to get some rest, so let’s wrap this up. Do you recall ever hearing about an event known as the ‘Searing Wounds’ at all?”
“Maybe super vaguely. I mean, it sounds familiar, but I can’t really offer any specific details right now,” she said, shaking her head. “Let me take a rain check and get back to you in the morning. My head is trying to make me commit not-alive.”
“No worries. Go get some sleep. I’ll watch Lacia for the night, and if she wakes up, I’ll be sure to come and get you,” he said. “Besides, I’ve got some stuff to think about, so this works out perfectly.”
“Sounds good. I really appreciate you taking the lead on this tonight. Seriously.”
“No problem. You’ve been super helpful, though I realize that might sound odd coming from a near-stranger like me,” he laughed awkwardly.
Mana giggled. “I have a feeling we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other, but later. Still, I should thank you for all of your help, too,” she said. “Anyways, I’m off. Thanks again for this.” She stumbled out of the bedroom, hand on her head. A soft ploof and rustling of bed sheets later, she was fast asleep.
The night passed slowly as Brendan mulled over what little information Mana had been able to provide. If what she’d said was true, the implications could be massive, but that was dependent upon which family she was talking about. On the one hand, the whole story could be just that: a story. On the other, they could be slow-walking into something that was way over their heads; there just wasn’t enough information to make any definitive claims, and there was no use in speculating, either. However, he was nearly certain she was telling the truth about her family’s servitude, though it seemed strange she’d only just remembered. Lacia had claimed Mana could use magic, but he’d yet to see, or feel, anything of the sort from her. He walked himself through what he did know.
Unbeknownst to Mana, his family was one of the few that had any sort of relations with the Lhumin family. While the Greyriters were known for their exceptional magecraft and cunning, only very few ever rose through the ranks to truly hone their craft, but records were few and far between, making it difficult to piece together much of the family’s history.
The Lhumin family, however, were a bit of different story. Mostly commoners, they were frequently looked down upon, and many did marry into other magically-gifted families in the hope that their children might have a future. Many families were split apart, and many children were forced into rigorous, magical training; the Greyriter family would eventually become a much larger piece to the puzzle, however.
Because of the servitude the Lhumin family was expected to provide to the Greyriter and other families, tensions were always high, but after an accident involving a small Lhumin child and a Greyriter mage, their relationship fell to new lows. This would eventually be dubbed the “Searing Wounds” conflict due to the burns suffered by the Lhumin child.
Later investigations revealed the burns to be an accident, not an intentional provocation by a member of the Greyriter family, but not before full-scale war broke out. Many lives were lost, including over half of the Lhumin family; an eventual ceasefire and end to hostilities were agreed upon, marking the end of the last great era of magic.
Brendan began to think aloud. “But if I remember correctly, the Lhumin family smudged the whole ordeal from their family record, considering those records are public. Maybe they didn’t want that kind of information in the hands of a public audience, though.” He wracked his brain. “That means, only the family elders were tasked with preserving the memory of the conflict, yet I don’t sense any magic from Mana at all, and commoners aren’t normally privy to such information…”
He plopped down on a nearby futon as he continued his reasoning. “The problem isn’t that she knows about the conflict. Rather, it’s that she has to have mana, but it’s so incredibly weak, if so. There’s literally no other reason she would be attacked out of the blue like that if she didn’t.” He kicked his feet up, laying his head against a pillow. “Just because relations between the two families ended over two-hundred years ago doesn’t mean there wasn’t still some intermingling between them. If she was birthed by a Lhumin mother but the father was a Greyriter mage, there’s a fifty-fifty chance she can use magic, like Lacia said.”
Having exhausted enough brain power for the night, he unlocked his phone, hoping to catch up on any missed notifications. The time on his phone glared back: 6:00am.
At the very least, over the course of an entire night, he’d been able to conclude that both Lacia and Mana had a role to play in whatever was happening. What those roles were, however, remained a mystery, one he’d have to solve later.
He turned his attention back to Lacia, still sound asleep. Quietly, he got up from the futon and opened the bedroom door a crack, surprised to find Mana awake—with a half-eaten bagel hanging out of her mouth. Brendan slipped out of the bedroom, deciding to check on her now that she was awake.
“Hey, bagel thief. Good to see you’re awake,” he said.
“Mmm?”
“Okay— Half awake,” he said awkwardly. “I have a proposal for you. After much deliberation, I’ve come to the conclusion that you can, indeed, use magic, but the reason I can’t sense it from you is because you haven’t been taught how to use it.”
“Come on, Brendan. I was just hungry. I wanna go back to sleep,” she whined.
“Hear me out. Every mage has magical “circuits” that they use to channel magic through their bodies and from the environment around them. When these circuits don’t function properly, one of two things happens: either that mage leaks magical energy, or” he said, “their magic gets trapped like a clogged artery.”
“You have thirty seconds before I stop listening.” She began to count.
“Ok, ok! I think your circuits just haven’t been set, so, if you let me do this, you’ll have the best sleep of your life. Deal?”
“Yeah? And what do you need from me?”
“Lend me your arm for a sec. I can use my magic to create a map of your circuits to see if they’re functioning or not.” Mana handed Brendan her non-bagel arm. A faint white glow began to emanate from his palms as they pulsed from white to green then blue. “I was right,” he beamed. “I just have to send a magical pulse through your body, and that should set your circuits.”
“Well, I have nothing to lose,” she laughed. “Let’s do it. I want that sleep you promised me.”
Brendan placed his hands on her back. “You might feel a little something like a shock, but you might not feel anything, either, so just a fair warning.”
“Your hands are so warm; I can feel them through my shirt. Or is that your magic I’m feeling?” Her eyes began to grow heavy. “Why didn’t you think of this sooner? This feels great.”
“It took a lot of thought,” he said, “but I’ll have to tell you what else I came up with when you’re awake next.”
Mana was asleep again, but his job was done. He could sense the mana that flooded her veins—peaceful and serene. He took the half-eaten bagel from her hand and placed it on the nightstand.
“Problem number one, solved. Now, just to solve the other twenty,” he exaggerated.
After what had been an unsettling night, he decided to finally get some rest himself. Settling back into the futon from earlier, he grabbed a blanket and stretched out; sleep came quickly.
Seagulls soared overhead, wailing as they circled the wave-battered docks; the smell of salt lingered in the air. Several small boats were moored in their bays, gently bobbing in the wake of each passing craft.
One boat in particular towered above the rest, though it remained mostly empty aside from the unlit lower deck. The daylight found itself in a losing battle as it struggled to illuminate the compartments below, out of reach of the sun’s comforting warmth.
Several monitors lined the back wall of one of the many cabins, illuminating the interior in a pale, artificial glow. One monitor seemed to be monitoring global stock markets—another was trawling the archives of a since-terminated conspiracy site, housing debunked theories, threats, and discarded user data.
A small chiink emanated from one of the monitors, indicating the completion of a downloaded dataset; the search parameters involved an array of unreadable jumbles of words and numbers. It was nonsense, until two names appeared on the screen: Lhumin and Greyriter, yet there was no mention of the Amana family.
Seated in front of the computers was a lanky man of average build; greasy, black hair stuck to his forehead with sweat as the air conditioning struggled to keep up with the tropical climate. Using a hand to push his hair back, he leaned into his chair, an eerie grin of satisfaction plastered across his face.
“This should be fun, real fun indeed, Greyriter,” the man said, satisfactorily. “I hope you’re ready for what’s next, boy.”
He leaned forward, hunched over the keyboard. His fingers flew at light-speed banging away on each key with pinpoint accuracy. Suddenly, a third monitor flickered to life. The man turned his attention to the newly lit monitor where a world map filled the screen. Large slashes crossed out several countries and island chains; another browser window opened alongside the current window.
“The world is a big place, but there are only so many places you can hide. Run all you like, I will find you,” he sneered.
In the newly opened window, a website displayed a chilling amount of information regarding the Amana family, but the page was pixelated, and an occasional word here and there looked as if had redacted, covered by a black box. The website itself looked like it had been built by an amateur web designer—headers were misaligned, there was little consistency in text size, and certain pages on the site failed to load altogether—all except one.
Unlike the rest of the site, the page loaded instantly as the man scrolled the page straight to the bottom, not even reading the header, only pausing to examine the picture of a girl. Though it was pixelated and blurry, honey-blonde locks and dazzling blue eyes could still be made out; she looked well-kept, and her skin retained a healthy glow, smiling.
The man leaned in closer, comparing the image on-screen to one he pulled from thin air. His eyes darted between the photo on the screen and the one in his hand. An advertisement suddenly plastered the screen, adding just enough light to make out the person in the photo.
The man’s voice filled with glee. “Found you… Lacia Amana.”
Brendan jolted awake, disturbed by the mysterious man and subsequent web-trawling. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up before turning his attention to Lacia who’d also woken up.
“Hey,” he said softly. “How are you feeling? Did you…” He trailed off. “Why the sour look?”
“Please,” Lacia said, pressing her hand to her forehead, “don’t bombard me with questions first thing in the morning.” She closed her eyes for a moment before addressing the latter question. “It’s just… kind of awkward, you know?” Her cheeks flushed.
“Oh… Yeah… I would have asked Mana to keep watch over you, but she was exhausted and said her head was killing her. I didn’t mean to make things awkward, sleeping in the same room as you, but someone had to watch you,” he reasoned.
She turned an even brighter shade of red. “N-n-no, wait—it’s not like that, sorry. I, uh, should have thanked you first before getting suspicious.” She held her hands to her face, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Sorry, Brendan, I know I was a handful last night.”
“No need for apologies,” he smiled. “On another note, how long have you been awake or… Wait. Were you having a nightmare, too? About some creepy dude on a boat and all those monitors?”
“Did you see what was on the monitors?” She shuddered.
“Yeah, and—” He stopped. “Lacia?” His face was stern.
“Y-yeah? Why are you making that face?” She pulled her blanket up to her chest.
“Did the man have greasy, black hair? In a dark room?”
She nodded. “Did we… have the same nightmare? What was he looking for, and why was he so obsessed with me? He even had an actual photo of me.” Lacia was visibly shaken.
The strange mark on her cheek began to glow, outshining the filtered sunlight beaming through the curtains. She laid back down, not knowing what to think anymore.
“That’s new,” Brendan said. “I don’t suppose you know what that mark on your cheek is, do you?”
“Oh, yeah—no makeup,” she thought. “Of course he would ask.” She rubbed the mark with her finger. “I have no idea, and neither does Mana. It just, kinda, appeared there one day, but it doesn’t hurt, and I don’t feel anything when it glows.”
“I have a couple ideas what it might be.” He recalled the conversation he had with Mana. “For now, you’re probably fine, but we can have a whole conversation about it later.”
“Alright. Thank you, again.”
Without thinking, she tenderly rubbed her side before pulling her hand away, remembering that, twelve hours ago, she was on the precipice of bleeding out. She white-knuckled the side of her bed, mentally preparing herself for the sight of the previous night’s agony. With a quick pull, she lifted the side of her shirt only to find a small scar where Brendan had closed the wound.
“Did you...?” She pointed to the scar.
Brendan nodded in affirmation, giving her a rundown on the conversation he had with Mana, the history of the Lhumin and Greyriter families, and what had been the gaping gash in her side. He concluded with Mana’s improperly-set magic circuits.
“So, she collapsed because her magic was blocked off or something? That’s a relief,” she said. “I thought it was something more serious. I swear, without you, we’d be dead or something by now.”
“Thank for the flattery,” she chuckled, “but you’re only half right. That mist was definitely made to absorb life energy. Under normal circumstances, she should have been able to dispel the attack, but because her magic circuits were blocked, she couldn’t. Also, there’s something else you should know,” he said. “How do I put this? Umm… There’s this sort of “gift”, but we don’t know what it is yet or, really, how it’s even acquired. Either way, you’re part of a complex puzzle that we need to find the pieces to, asap.”
“What is this so-called gift?” she asked.
Brendan bit his lip, thinking about the best way to word what he was about to say. “Let’s just say it’s in this room, wrapped up in a blanket at the moment.”
Lacia pointed at herself. “You’re not talking about me, are you?”
“Do you want the short answer of the long answer?”
She threw her pillow at him. “Stop playing! Just tell me.”
He sighed. “You are the gift. Better yet, it’s inside of you,” he said. “I think, with a little research, I can figure out what this “gift” is. Right now, solely based upon last night, it’s a safe bet to say it grants either extensive knowledge or tremendous power—possibly both. I don’t suppose you feel a new, profound sense of intelligence or surge of magic, do you?” He looked her in the eyes. “If you want my opinion, your abilities aren’t developed enough, so whatever this gift or thing is, it tried to test you, but you weren’t strong enough, mentally or physically, to receive it.”
“Ok, well, first off, I don’t feel like I’ve gained any kind of ultra powerful magic, and I don’t feel any, uhhh… Smarter?” She frowned. “What I do know is that I feel like I just insulted myself…”
Without warning, the bedroom door creaked open as Mana poked her head in. From the looks of things, she’d just woken up: bedhead, bagel crumbs stuck to the side of her mouth, and dried saliva in tow.
Lacia held her hand to her mouth, snickering.
“Laugh all you want!” Mana fired, “but I think you two should come see this.”
Lacia and Brendan stepped out onto the front porch where Mana stood, waiting. The sun was out, working overtime to dry lingering puddles and flooded roads. What seemed even more unusual, other than seeing the sun for the first time in weeks, was the striking lack of people.
What were normally busy streets were silent, filled only with the sound of birds and blowing leaves. There were no cars or people, many homes had closed their blinds, and muddy tire tracks littered the streets.
Lacia walked up to the front gate, removing the padlock before swinging it open. She stepped out into the street, shielding her eyes from the sun, before abruptly slapping herself across the face.
“Well, that proves this is real and I’m not still dreaming, but where is everyone? Something about this feels… wrong,” she thought. “It’s waaay too quiet and there’s no one else out here. Like, would people not want to get out for the first time in weeks?”
The sound of approaching tires averted her attention; a white car was barreling down the street, straight for her, but instead of moving out of the way, she stood her ground. She didn’t care if the car hit her. Instinctively, she knew it wouldn’t, but she wanted answers, and she was determined to get them, even if it meant getting run over. She waved her arms in the air, signaling for the driver to slow down and, to her surprise, they did.
“Hey~,” the driver shouted, hanging from the window, waving back.
It was a man. He pulled over, parking the car at the curb as he stepped out; he looked to be in his early twenties, average build, and pleasant smile.
“Have any of you seen the news, lately?” he asked as Brendan and Mana joined Lacia at the street. “Some crazy stuff has been going on. You might want to check it out.”
“We’ll keep that in mind, but, uh— Who are you, and where is everyone?”
“Oops. Totally forgot to introduce myself first,” he said awkwardly. “I’m Ryan. It’s nice to meet you!”
Lacia smiled. “Likewise. My name’s Lacia, and that’s Mana,” she said gesturing, “and Brendan. We’re a bit rag-tag at the moment,” she laughed. “Umm, how about we all go inside? It’s terribly humid out here, and we could use a little time getting ready.”
“Yeah, it’s not exactly real pleasant today, is it? I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” Ryan obliged.
Brendan finished getting ready first, joining Ryan in the living room. The clock on the television flashed three o’clock; the temperature gauge read eighty-six and climbing, but it was the humidity that was so unfathomable—even the air conditioner was struggling to keep up.
Mana appeared from the guest bathroom next, offering Brendan and Ryan a bottle of water, of which they both accepted. She turned her attention to the TV screen, but it was all commercials for the moment. “Sheesh… You’d think that, when important things actually happen, they’d find a way not to waste our time with endless commercials,” she said, annoyed. “Lacia shouldn’t be much longer, by the way.”
“No problem,” Ryan said. “I feel you on the whole commercials thing, though.”
“Hey,” Lacia shouted from somewhere down the hall, “those “endless commercials” are how I found the makeup brand you like so much,” she said defensively.
“Well, if you’d join us, maybe I wouldn’t be tease you so much,” Mana said.
The commercials continued to drone on, advertising everything from pet food to various new medical treatments for dermatitis rashes. Swiping the remote, Mana pushed the mute button, effectively silencing the same commercial about retirement homes she’d seen at least a hundred times. The rush of cold air from the vents added a level of static calm; she’d always had a fondness for white noise.
She couldn’t help but let her mind wander. Just two weeks ago, life had been totally normal; she’d meet up with Lacia outside her house each morning for school, talk about boys, and watch the same predictable TV shows about vampires and other, over-exaggerated, fantasies. Everything changed when she learned Lacia had been keeping secrets from her—important ones, at that. She would have figured it out eventually, but she couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if the events from last night happened while in broad daylight—worse yet, what if she’d started bleeding out in the middle of class?
“They’re saying there was a leak at the power plant? At Teaken? The one just up the road?” Lacia asked. Startled, Mana whipped her head around, colliding with Lacia’s. “Oww! Stop spacing out,” she whined. “That really hurt. Had I known you were going to bash me in the head, I would have sat across from you.” She pressed a cold bottle of water to her head, a preemptive attempt to subdue any headaches.
Mana groaned. “Sorry, Lacia. I got lost in thought and didn’t even see you walk in,” she said rubbing her own head. “I’ll be more careful next time,”
“It’s fine,” Lacia said, fixing her bangs, “but more importantly… Ryan, what were you saying about the power plant leak?”
Ryan looked to Brendan who just shrugged. “I have to wonder if the radiation already leaked into your brain, Mana,” he joked. “But real talk, though— The nuclear power plant a few towns up the road apparently suffered some kind of power failure and radiation is leaking into the air and water supply.” Ryan refocused their attention towards the TV, headlines anything but reassuring.
“Nuclear accident at Teaken power plant.”
“Residents from Teaken to Azalea south ordered to evacuate.”
Live drone footage displayed an area of extensive damage, resembling that of a major earthquake except there had been no recorded quakes in recent months. Rubble lay strewn about the ground; any structures that remained upright were riddled with cracks, threatening to tumble down at a moment’s notice. If an earthquake really had caused such devastation, why wasn’t that also being talked about? Someone wasn’t telling the whole truth as was evident by reporters’ dodgy answers when asked about the cause of the accident.
“The place is just rubble,” Brendan said, shocked.
“They’re saying the radiation cloud is set to drift this way around sunset,” Ryan explained, “so most everyone has left town, but if you three need someplace to go, I’m headed straight south to the Okina islands. If we leave now, we can be there by midday tomorrow.”
The room fell silent as everyone mulled over their options. Ryan had offered to give them a lift to the Okina islands, a tropical paradise that drew thousands of tourists every year. On the one hand, Lacia half-wanted to take him up on the offer; beaches and tropical paradises were kind of her thing. On the other, she didn’t want to drag someone else into her current mess-of-a-life drama.
Brendan seemed to understand. “Unfortunately, we’re going to have to decline your offer, but let me give you my number, in any event. It’s good to have alibis in times like these, right?” He watched the tension in Lacia’s shoulders ease.
“Right you are. Here!” Ryan handed the girls a business card upon exchanging contact information with Brendan. “On the back is the address to my villa. If you decide to make your way down, I’ll be there. It’s kind of my “doomsday” getaway,” he said. “It’s stocked with everything you’d need.” He seemed exceptionally proud of himself.
“A villa?!” the girls exclaimed in unison.
Ryan chuckled. “I figured you’d like the sound of that. Anyways, it’s almost thirty after, so I better get going—I’d like to make it by midday tomorrow.” He leaned onto his knees. “if you want my advice, I think you should pack what you can and leave town by seven, if what they said on the news is true. There’s even an abandoned four-door SUV just up the street—the way I came in.” He turned to Lacia. “Thank you for your hospitality—it was greatly appreciated. I’m gonna head out, but make sure you three get somewhere safe.”
Ryan sped off as quickly as he’d arrived, thanking Lacia again, even offering Mana a couple of pain relievers from an unopened bottle. She graciously accepted. Brendan shook his hand, waving him off.
“He seemed really nice,” Mana said, watching as the car faded into the horizon, “but I do have my reservations about getting into a car with someone we just met.” She looked at Lacia, still staring down the road.
“I mean, yeah. He offered us a safe place to stay and warned us about the radiation cloud. He even gave you some pain relievers from a brand-new bottle— Can he really be that bad? Like, he knew we were wary and did everything he could to prove his humility.”
“You are pretty cute, after all, Lacia. Who wouldn’t want to drive away with you?”
“Did you just nonchalantly say I’m kidnap-able…? I’m not the only one some random stranger would want to pick up, you know?” she said, narrowing her eyes.
Brendan pulled the SUV up, windows down. “I could hear you two from way up the road. Let’s be clear: no one is getting kidnapped,” he laughed.
A warm breeze rustled his messy hair; Lacia’s heart melted. He had no right being so cute, and his fluffy hair was just begging to be played with. “In another life, girl. In another life,” she whispered to herself.
“Lacia, if you’re done having the hots for Brendan, can you help me load these boxes? They’re pretty light, mostly just clothes, bedding, and bathroom stuff,” Mana said.
Embarrassed, she ran over to help. “J-just to be clear, Brendan,” she said, red-faced, “I do not have feelings for you, ok? S-so don’t think about anymore!”
“Yes ma’am,” he laughed. “How about you two do a once-over on the house and I’ll load the boxes and whatever else that’s left?”
Lacia’s blonde tresses turned into a marvelous platinum hue in the sunlight as she ran into the house, still embarrassed. “I’ll start in the back, Mana,” she shouted.
“You know she totally likes you, right? That girl literally never knows what she wants,” Mana explained. “Like, did you notice she changed from flats to a low-heel boot? She also changed the ribbon in her hair to match her— Actually, I’ll leave that to your imagination. Also, her favorite color is light blue—same color as the hair ribbon,” she winked.
“Mana!” Lacia yelled.
“Coming!” she shouted back. “See what I mean? She’s still a child at heart, but all of the recent craziness has really transformed into a young woman I’m kinda jealous of. Anyways, I better go help.” She ran into the house after Lacia.
“Hey,” Brendan nudged. “Have you grown a little taller or is it the heels? I feel like maybe you grew an inch or two, seriously. You’re the perfect height,” he said, addressing Lacia.
She let out a breathy gasp. Compliments from boys were rare. “Actually, I guess I have grown a little. My world has been absolutely insane lately, though I’m not sure why I couldn’t grow there of all places,” she mumbled, looking at her chest. “Brendan, this hasn’t been easy on me, so thank you for being there for me—Mana too.”
“Hey, I think you’re just fine the way you are, so don’t go changing for anyone other than yourself. Come on, let’s finish getting these boxes loaded,” he smiled.
Half an hour later and the car was packed, but Lacia wasn’t ready to leave just yet. “I want to leave a note in case mom and dad somehow make it home, you know? No matter how unlikely,” she said. “I just need a few minutes, and I’ll be ready.”
The car idled as Lacia ran back into the house. It felt lonely despite her choosing to leave much of the house’s contents where they were. Even so, she would miss the familiar scent of the furniture, the cold blast of air when she closed the fridge, and the smooth linoleum under her feet. She stood in the center of the living room for a moment before walking into her bedroom.
“I almost forgot about you,” she said excitedly.
A beautiful, red and black dress hung on the closet rack; she’d planned to wear it to her twentieth birthday party next month. Although, considering recent events, she wasn’t sure she’d get the chance to wear it. A pair of black, stiletto pumps glinted in the dim room light as she stooped down to pick them up—her choice of shoes for the party. She zipped the dress inside its garment bag, carrying her heels by their straps.
“Lacia,” Mana called. “Can we help with anything?”
“Oh, um, yes actually,” she answered. Mana’s voice pulled her from her daze as she walked into the room. “Could you take these and place them in the car for me?” she said, handing the dress and shoes over to Mana. “I want to pack my plushies real quick. I’d really like to have them.”
“Sure. Join us when you’re ready,” Mana said, watching as Lacia took her bed-full of stuffed animals and placed them in a left-over empty box. “I’ll let Brendan know you’ll be a little longer.”
“Thank you, bestie. You are so appreciated!”
Another five minutes passed as Lacia finished grabbing a few other last-minute items: extra bath towels, makeup brushes and wipes—even an extra set of batteries. A jumbled shoebox-full later and she finally got around to writing the note she planned to leave for her parents. Black ink trawled across the white printer paper as she weighted the note down with an empty glass from the cabinet.
“Ok,” she said, choked up as tears began to stream down her face.
“I’ve lived here my whole life ,and I’m about to leave everything I’ve ever known behind, but I’m ok—I can do this. Mom and dad are still out there somewhere, and I have you guys,” she said, referencing Mana and Brendan. “They’re good people, I promise.” A single tear left a tiny imprint on the paper.
She walked out, shoebox in her arms, gently placing it inside a larger, half-empty box in the trunk, making sure it was secure. The road ahead was rugged, and it would be full of challenges—she knew that, but if the last couple of weeks alone had taught her anything, it was that she was braver than she realized.
Brendan gave her a hug, noticing the uncertain look on her face. “You can be as brave as you need to be, but don’t forget we’re here to support you, too.”
His face was full of uncertainty, but his eyes were fierce and determined. Ryan had thrown him for a bit of a loop, and the addition of the nuclear disaster didn’t help. Even so, he wanted to be someone the girls could rely on, but he knew he had to follow his own advice, as well.
Lacia quickly dried her eyes, regaining her composure as she embraced Brendan’s hug; he smelled like vanilla—one of her favorite scents. She appreciated that he could be vulnerable with her, noticing his staggered breathing. Maybe he was trying to hold back tears of his own.
“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “I need to be strong for you guys, too—not just for myself. Brendan?” she said sweetly, “if there’s ever a time you need a shoulder to cry on, too, you can have mine.” Her voice was quiet; she wanted this moment to herself.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “Should we get going?” He released the hug.
“Yeah. There’s a left we need to figure out. We can’t stand around, crying, all the time now, can we?” she laughed.
Imparting her final goodbyes, she locked the front door, placed the lock back on the gate, and awkwardly hugged her childhood home before turning the gate key. With a brave face, she looked back on her childhood home—one final time; she was ready to embrace the young woman she had become. Stepping into the vehicle, she closed not just the car door, but the door to an entire chapter of her life. Realizing this could be the last time she’d ever see the home she grew up in, she snapped several last-minute photos.
“Goodbyes are hard, but we can’t hold on to our past forever. I believe in you, Lacia. We believe in you,” Brendan said. “We don’t know what the future holds, but I know that, as long as I have you, we’ll be ok.”
Mana smiled, as she turned to face the window. “He says all the right things at exactly the right time. Lucky girl,” she mouthed.
Lacia blushed again, but, for some reason, she was happy she could experience this new journey with such wonderful people. Reciting the note she’d left on the kitchen counter in her head, she wondered just where their journey would take her:
Mom, Dad. If you find this note, I’m ok. In fact, I’m better than ok. I made a new friend, and he’s helped me put the pieces of my life back together. His name is Brendan.
I lost myself, but I had my friends by my side to help bring me back. Mana is just like you, mom—bossy, but she cares. You always told me to find people who show they care, and I did just that.
We packed a little bit of everything, and I took pictures of our family photos, too. For now, we’re headed south towards the Okina islands. I don’t know if that’s where we’ll end up, but please go to the address on the business card—we’ll try to meet you there if we can.
Your little girl isn’t so little anymore. She’s all grown up now, but that little girl is still with me in my heart, walking alongside me.
I love you guys. We’ll see each other again soon—I can feel it in my heart. My phone works for now, but there's no telling for how much longer. Call me when you see this, if you can.
Your little girl, Lacia.