Diomedes hefted the last box into the back of his burnt orange car.  Plenty of room remained in the hatchback as there were only five boxes, a duffel bag, and his favorite flexible-necked desk lamp.  All he needed, really.  His dorm room came with all the furniture he needed for his first year of college.

                He reached up to close the hatch.  Deep breath and swing it closed as hard as he could.  The car was over 20 years old, so the latch was extremely stiff no matter how much he oiled it.  It was still in excellent shape, despite its age.  The only time it was ever driven out of town was when his dad drove it home from the dealership the next town over.  It was his oldest brother Hector’s car when he was still living at home, but that was ten years ago.  He still came to work on it off and on whenever he was in town, which was why it was still running.  The engine was simple enough he could tune it up without anything melting or exploding.  The most electronic oriented device was the radio and it only took cassettes.  All the cars his family and those related to him owned had to be old.  Any of them with computer chips inside did not last long.

                “Are you certain we can’t talk you into saying?”  Diomedes’ father’s voice was always calm and even, no matter what.  Even now, it was….mostly okay.  Diomedes heard it near the end; a slight shakiness that betrayed that his dad might have been even more nervous about him leaving than he was.

                “Delbert Brothers has been good to us.  I’m sure they’d give you a job doing something you’ll enjoy.”  His father continued.  “The money’s good.  You can stay in St. Ambrose.” 

His father ran a hand through his white-bordering-on-silver hair.  Like Diomedes, his mother, and both of his brothers, he was an anthro skunk.  Everyone in his family was an anthro skunk.  His parents, grandparents, and all their parents before them.  That alone would cause anyone seeing their family to raise an eyebrow.  Such things did not happen in this world.  Speciation was quite random, being attributed to combinations of recessive alleles.  A squirrel could marry a lemur and have a jackal, cheetah, and rabbit as children.  Exclusively belonging to one species was only a feature of one very specific, very ancient people.  A people that Diomedes’ family and the four other families sharing that pedigree were not proud of.

“I can’t stay.”  Diomedes replied.  His mind was made up.  It had been ever since he turned 18 and his mother finished his schooling.  “I don’t want to spend all day looking at numbers like you, driving truckloads of animals around like Hector, or staring at a computer screen like Jason.  And I really don’t want to be in sales or marketing and stuff, especially not for hybrids and seeds.”

“They can train you to do anything.”  His mother offered.  She was several inches shorter than his father.  She stayed close to him, as if his presence could somehow keep her youngest son from leaving town to start his life away from the only community he ever knew.  “You could do something science related.  Even without an education, Trevor Delbert is enough of a friend to our community he could train you to work on creating new hybrids or whatever else you’re interested in.  And you could take courses by mail in whatever chemistry or biology you’ll need.”

Diomedes tried not to roll his eyes.  Correspondence courses?  Those were a scam even before the internet.  And online universities caught him as only slightly less shady.  Even if they were legit, computers were not his friend.  The magical interference coming off his body was unkind to computers.  He inadvertently fried more than a couple of them in the past.  The only reason Jason could work with them was he wore thick rubber gloves whenever he handled them.

College was where real learning occurred.  Every person who went off to university came back in the summer and during winter break.  Diomedes spoke to them at church and said the same thing.  They were learning so much, the campus was huge and gorgeous, their meal plan kept them really well fed and the food was good.  He made sure to ask them about the size of the libraries and quantity of desserts in the cafeteria.  He was satisfied with the answers.  Books were plentiful and he was looking forward to trying different foods, particularly sweets.  The thought of having those readily available made his mouth water.

He liked the stuff they said when their parents were not around less.  Talk about people going in and out of each other’s rooms to visit.  Going out to the bars around campus or to parties.  Lots of socializing and having fun and all kinds of other stuff that involved talking to people or being around them in intimate situations.  Scary stuff for someone as introverted as Diomedes.  Even scarier if he would be expected to be in situations that made him vulnerable; either from proximity to a lot of people or consuming things that impaired someone’s impulse control.  To someone with magic in his blood who did not want that known, impulse control was very important.  Losing control meant someone would know what he was and that would bring all manner of trouble down on his head.  Anthro skunks were normal.  Anthro skunks in his line were far from it.

He reminded himself that he did not have to participate.  A secluded, single dorm room waited for him on the edge of campus.  Study, work hard, do the required courses and ace them all, maybe get a doctorate someday.  The world was open.  Just not in a town with a population slightly north of 400.

“Mom, no one does that anymore.”  He said, trying to sound worldly and wise.  “And I’m not going to a weird online school either.  I want a real education.  The kind you can’t get in a tiny town whose public library only contains some encyclopedias and a lot of thirty-year-old mystery books.”

“We can give you a good life here!”  His mother stepped forward.  She came just short of grabbing hold of him.  “Anything you need can be ordered these days.  I’m sure your brother can use those online stores to buy you all the books you could ever want.  We have it good here.  The people know who we are.  It’s the only place we’re accepted.”

“It’s a dangerous world out there.”  His father added.  “Especially for us.”

He felt it coming, same as every other time he mentioned leaving St. Ambrose.  A lecture designed to highlight the countless dangers of the outside world.  A cruel, unforgiving place where everyone remembered the crimes of their past in excruciating detail.

“Dad, stop.”  Diomedes held up his paws.  “I’ve heard it and it can’t be that bad.  It just….can’t.”

“Diomedes….”  His mom began.

“I know.”  He cut her off.  “Dangerous place, everyone knows about our horrible history and all that.  But….”  He flicked his tail, thinking on how to word this.  He rehearsed it in his head several times over the past few days, knowing this would come up.

“People here barely know who we are.  They don’t know our history.  I’ve never seen it in books or on tv.”  What television Diomedes did watch, anyway.  He was more of a reader and the television was usually taken up by his mother watching either the weather channel or public broadcasting.

“They may not know exactly who the Izorians were, but they know.”  His father countered.  “They know we’re different.  It’s no secret that our ancestors came here with Pastor Mendelson when he founded the town.  That we were from a commune of the most evil magi one could imagine.  Ones that would have killed the pastor without the sixteen who believed his message and escaped with him.”

Diomedes suppressed a sigh.  How often had his dad told him this story?  To count it would take more fingers and toes than he possessed.

“They settled here.”  His father continued.  “Helped found the town.  Your great grandparents were there, even though they were only 10 at the time.  We’re as much a part of this town as anyone, which is why they tolerate us.”  His father paused to see if Diomedes had anything to say.  He did not, simply waiting for him to finish reciting ancient history

Sensing this, his father went on.  “And yet…they know we’re different.  Grandma Irene and Grandpa Simon lived to be 190 and 192 years old.  That sort of thing is hard to miss.  They know that our people have magic in our blood.  That’s why you see them look at us so oddly in church or on the street.  Why they’re so reluctant to speak with us…..They know.”

It did not escape his notice, of course.  Diomedes did not talk much with people outside of his family.  He listened, but did not talk.  He always got really nervous when talking to non-skunks.  He felt like they were judging him and it made him uncomfortable in his own skin.  He never felt hated, but he felt different.

“The collapse was more than a thousand years ago.”  Diomedes said.  “The world’s moved on.  They’ve….”  Cannot say ‘forgiven’.  That was not possible.  Something else.  “…forgotten about Izoria’s crimes.”

“Some crimes are unforgettable.”  His dad replied.  “When one people sinned as much as ours, it’s not that easy.  God wiped out the world with a flood because the people were exceedingly wicked.  A plague wiped out Izoria for the same reason.  We only survived so we could continue trying to atone for our sins, because there’s no forgiveness without atonement.”

“Yeah, but Pastor McBroom says….”  Diomedes began.

“He means well, but he doesn’t know.”  His father stopped him.  “Unrepentant sin leads to loss of salvation.  Our history is full of not just unrepentance, but pride in what we were.”

Diomedes was not going to argue.  It would not change his dad’s mind.  The subject did not matter to him in the slightest.  He went to church, but only because his parents made him.  He saw what belief did to his parents and was not interested.  It was bad enough it made his oldest brother a neurotic mess.  If that was the fruit of belief in God, no thanks.

He was more worried about what people would think.  Coming from a nation of wizards who enslaved most of the continent they occupied so they could live cruel, hedonistic lives, there was much to hate.

“I’ll be fine.  It’s ancient history and….well, I can keep to myself.  No one has to know.  For all they know, I’m a normal skunk.”

“Tell that to your grandmother.”  His mother stated, prompting a wince from Diomedes.

“Yes, Eumelia….”  His father reminded.  “You remember, even though you were just a boy.  Tragic, but it taught us one thing.  People won’t tolerate showing off your magic.  It’s why we don’t do it anymore.”

It was burned into Diomedes’ memory, despite only being six at the time.  Grandma Eumelia used to be outgoing; for members of their family, anyway.  People came to her for healing for various ailments.  Magic and herbalism let her cure anything from broken bones to the flu.  One of the townsfolk, a badger named Robert Prentiss, took issue with that.  Came in under the pretense of having pneumonia and stabbed her to death.  He was caught, tried, and would spend the rest of his natural life in jail, the law being what it was, but no one talked about it.  Pretending it did not happen may have been the easiest way to deal with it, but that would not bring his grandmother back.  She was only 110.

“Don’t worry, I’ll never use magic.  Come on, I know better than that!”  Diomedes huffed.  “You don’t need that stuff to be a healer.  That’s why I want to leave.  I want to learn how to make new medicines.  I want to know everything about organic chemistry and biology and all that stuff I can’t learn in this dinky town.”

“Son….”  His dad started, but now it was Diomedes’ turn to interrupt.

“Stop worrying about me!  I’ll be fine.”  He dug in his heels.  No swaying him with parental worry.  “I’m moving to Aledo.  I’m going to Monroe University and I’m going to get my doctorate in pharmacology and make you guys proud.”  Time to add a little more incentive for his parents to think he was doing the right thing.  “Maybe if I make enough cures, it’ll make up for all the bad stuff our people did.”

Silence for several seconds.  The only sound was the occasional chirping bird.   His mother looked up at his father.  Finally, she stepped forward and pulled him into a big hug.

Diomedes should have expected this, but he still let out a surprised little ‘oof’ when she did.  He should know you are never too old to get hugged by mom.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Take care of yourself.  Make sure you’re eating good.”  She said.

“Not too many sweets.  They’re bad for your stomach.”  His father added.

“And I know you have a scholarship….”  She did not need to remind Diomedes about his scores on the entrance tests.  They were high enough the school was willing to give him enough to cover books and tuition.  Diomedes may have been a little naïve, but he was not dumb.  “But it’s overwhelming being on your own….you call if you need anything.”

“Yes, call if you need more money.  Delbert Brothers pays their accountants quite well, so paying for your….dorm room and that meal plan isn’t even worth worrying about.”

Diomedes felt bad enough for taking money from his parents.  “I’ll pay you back when I have my doctorate.”  He commented, knowing he would not ask them for money again.  He did not plan on contacting them after this.

“Don’t worry about it.”  His dad retorted.

“….I should get going.”  Diomedes said and his mother finally let him go.

“Just…call whenever you can.”  She said.  “And I’m sorry Hector couldn’t see you off….but you should go visit Jason before you leave.”

Diomedes was hoping she would not ask him that.  But, now he had to.  “I…um, I will, mom.”

Hector rarely came back to town for longer than a day.  Driving transport for Delbert Brothers kept in him the road and he picked up all the extra shifts he could.  When he was not working, he did community service and outreach for the church.  He had the time since he never married and likely never would.  Diomedes called him from time to time.  Usually, he had to leave a message and Hector would call him back for a quick talk a day or so later.

Jason was much easier to find, rarely leaving his house.  He could do nearly all his work remotely or delegate it to someone on site.  The local grocery store delivered his provisions weekly (the same order every week; lots of convenience foods, pineapple, and three bottles of gin).  Larger items he ordered online, usually through specialty vendors.  If his house needed repairs, he called whatever contractor he needed and they did the work while he hid in his room.  The only time he left his domain was for major family events.

Diomedes pulled his car into the weed-choked driveway leading to Jason’s garage.  It was empty; Jason knew how to drive, but had not in years.  He parked far away from a particularly spiky looking weed happily growing between two concrete slabs.  While Diomedes normally liked plants, that one looked hateful.

It did fit in with the rest of Jason’s lawn.  Overgrown to the extreme was the only way to describe it.  The grass all grew to seed and weeds of every genus imaginable dotted the expanse.  He waved his hands as he walked along the uneven sidewalk to Jason’s front door.  The too-tall plants were not the only thing he had to brush away.  Gnats and flies liked tall grass quite a bit and Diomedes hated the sensation of bugs in his fur, especially his tail.  So, really, he only waved one hand.  The other cradled his long, fluffy tail against his chest to try and keep the bugs off it.  To anyone observing, it looked silly, but he would rather look silly than brush bugs out of his tail for the next several days.

The house was in roughly the same shape as the driveway and sidewalk.  Functional, but not pretty.  Paint was dark blue once, but that was over a decade ago.  The sun faded it to the point it was the color of your favorite blue jeans after being washed several hundred times.  Every window could be looked through, but only just.  A thick film of grime covered the outside and Venetian blinds the inside.  Most of the decorative shutters blew off a long time ago and the edging at the base of the siding followed suit.  When one spent all their time inside of the house, why maintain the outside?  Particularly if one never entertained guests.  His parents visited.  Hector visited.  Every once in a while, someone from the community visited.  That was all.  He never answered the door for solicitors.

Standing before the front door, Diomedes steeled himself.  He never liked visiting Jason because that meant he had to go inside his house.  If he was lucky, he could say a quick goodbye and avoid being invited in.

Diomedes raised a paw and rapped lightly on the door three times.  Three seconds passed and he turned to walk away.  Maybe he was not home?  He would have answered by then, as he seemed to know when someone pulled into his driveway and waited by the door to see who had the temerity to bother him.

The door creaked open, but only a crack.  Through it, all the lights were off.  Partially obscured by the shadows, he saw part of a black and white muzzle and one amethyst colored eye.

“Dion?”  The voice coming from the other side of the door sounded hollow.  Distracted and from miles away, barely registering what was before him.  A couple seconds, then more words.  “Oh, hi!”  It turned light and airy in an instant.  The pleasant voice of someone who recorded commentary on drawing tutorials for fun and to satisfy certain baser desires of people paying for the drawings.

“Come on in out of the hot sun!”  It was about sixty degrees outside.  A very mild fall day.  If Diomedes did not recognize Jason at first, this would have confirmed it.  Maybe the sky would darken with aerodynamic pigs before his brother ever changed?

“I just came by to….”  He started.

“I don’t like talking to people through the door…”  His brother interrupted.  “Come in, please.”  He opened the door just wide enough to allow Diomedes inside.  What else could he do?  He mustered up his nerve, prepared himself for the sights and smells inside, and walked in.

Jason led him through the front entryway into the living room.  It was sparsely furnished; a green, yellow, and red plaid couch that might have been older than Diomedes, a coffee table covered in half-finished sketches he made a point not to look at, a television hooked up to all the newest gaming consoles, and a desk with one of Jason’s five computers.  Jason darted ahead of him and turned the monitor off before he could see what he was doing before he arrived.  Diomedes doubted it was work related.

Not to say he was untidy.  The house was clean; Jason hated dust and dirt.  He kept the carpets vacuumed and cabinets polished.  The house still had an odd, musky smell to it; both from always having the doors and windows shut and something Diomedes could never quite identify.  Doubtful it was worth thinking about.

Jason’s appearance was less tidy.  His long, violet hair hung in mussed tangles around his ears and muzzle.  He was wearing a worn-out white bathrobe with a variety of food stains and a pair of fuzzy, pink bunny slippers with most of the fur worn off.  Thankfully, the robe was closed this time.  The fur on his tail was matted from several days of not being washed or brushed, much like the rest of him.  Why clean up when you had everything you needed in your den, internet friends included?

Completing the outfit was a pair of elbow length gloves made of thick rubber.  It was the only thing that kept computers from behaving oddly and/or shorting out whenever he touched one.  He could not maintain this sort of high-tech lifestyle without them.  Diomedes wondered how he could stand to be around all those screens.  If he was around too many computers for too long, he got a headache and felt sick to his stomach.

One might be tempted to think he was having a bad week, but he always looked this disheveled.  Living like he did, indoors either working on his computer or playing on his computer, cleaning up was rare.  He only did it when he got too dirty to stand it or had to see their parents; usually for a family gathering.  A surprise visit from his younger brother was not worth putting on pants, apparently.

“So, can I get you anything?  Some jerky?  A drink?  I can make a pretty decent gin and Livewire.  I even got the red flavored one.”  Jason offered.

“…..I’m eighteen.”  He reminded him.  Diomedes was not about to consume something that altered his consciousness.  And those Livewire energy drinks made his teeth vibrate.

“….oh, oh right.  Yeah.  Uh…”  Jason rubbed the back of his head.  “Um…just the other stuff?” 

Diomedes shook his head.

“Okay, yeah.”  Jason smiled and brushed some of his hair out of his eyes.  “Why’re you here anyway?  Not that I’m not glad to see you.  Just, uh, why?”

“I’m leaving for college today.”  Diomedes stated.  “Wanted to say goodbye.”  He left out the part where mom and dad told him to visit.

“Oh….”  Jason turned his head and took on a blank look.  Confusion; he was processing.  Diomedes knew to give him time.  Talking online gave lots more time to formulate a response.  Face to face communication required quicker thinking and promptness.  Jason was out of practice.

“That was today?”  He finally answered.

Diomedes nodded.

“Shit….I didn’t get you anything….uh…”  He glanced around the room, searching for a present that did not exist.  “Um….I can get you some….snacks?  Oh!”  His eyes lit up.  “I can draw you something!  I’ll have to mail it to you, though.  It might take me a few days.”

“I don’t need anything.”  Diomedes replied.  “I have a meal plan and all the stuff I need can fit in my car.  The dorm has the rest.”  He did not want anything his brother drew.  He saw enough of his brother’s sketches to know the kind of people he catered to.  And caught glimpses of it online.  It made him uncomfortable thinking about it.

“Okay.”  Tension caused Jason to flex his shoulders up to his mid neck.  Released from extra work for family, he relaxed them.  “Um….why’re you leaving again?  I mean it’s…..pretty bad out there.  Lots of…uh, people don’t like us.”

“People don’t even know who we are.”  Diomedes reminded.  He may not see Jason often, but he knew his brother would not approve of him going out into the world.

“But….they’ll find out.  Anyone with eyes and a….working brain can see we’re different.  Especially if you start flinging spells.”

“I won’t.”  Diomedes rolled his eyes.  “I’m not an impulsive child.”

“It just takes one slip….”  Jason’s eyes drifted, no longer looking at him.  “One mistake and they’ll know….all about our history…the slaves and supremacy and….”  He looked into Diomedes’ eyes, completely focused.  “They’ll want your head…what our people did can’t be forgiven.”

Another reason he disliked seeing his brother; guilt lived loudly within him.  The world was full of justice seekers who could identify them instantly, so the answer was to hide.

“I’m not going to spend my life hiding in my room.”  Diomedes replied.  “They won’t recognize me.”

Jason smirked.  “The purple hair and eyes are a dead giveaway.  I mean, people may color their hair…but the eyes…better keep dying your hair and wearing those contacts.  Otherwise, they’ll find you.”

Diomedes ran a hand through his headfur, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.  He started dying his hair black and wearing brown contact lenses last year; the year he was applying to different colleges.  Even then, he figured it would be best to not stand out.  Now it was more important than ever.  When was the last time he dyed it?  Were the roots showing?  No, no, it was fine.  Things were bad, but not that bad.

“There….”  Diomedes started.  “There’s no way they’ll know. I’ll be careful.  I don’t need to talk much.  Just study then work in a lab.”

“Heh…you could do that here.  And you can even have good friends from home.  I work from home and I have lots.”  Jason wagged his tail.  “Good friends who like me.”

“Diomedes raised an eyebrow.  “Really?  They know you?  Seen the real you?”

Jason’s cringed with his entire body.  “Uh…no…but they wouldn’t like that.  They know….who I really am.  Who I should have been….if I wasn’t born the wrong species.”

Diomedes already knew that.  When curious, he found the contrived person Jason presented to the world.  He was not a trim, slightly feminine-looking pony with chestnut fur and a flowing red mane.  He was not into long runs at dawn and traveling to see the world.  He was not a tireless volunteer for the Victims of Speciest Injustice (A charity group he also made up).  In the artificial world of online interactions, he could put forth any version of himself he wanted.  This did not strike Diomedes as better.  Lying to protect himself was different than Jason’s brand of self-delusion.

He knew better than to argue.  He still felt the need to defend himself.  “That’s why I need to get out there.  I don’t want to live like a smelly, old hermit.  I want to help people.  Maybe they won’t think Izorians are so bad if they find out?”

Jason let out a short, scoffing breath.  “Now you’re starting to sound like Hector.”  Hector had not seen Jason more than once a year since the argument, and that was at the family’s annual Christmas dinner.

“Well, he’s right about some stuff.”  Diomedes countered.  “We have to do good.”

“We can never do enough good!  No one can forgive us!”

“You wouldn’t think that if you had real friends.  If you still went to church….”

“Oh, stoppit.”  Jason’s turn to roll his eyes.  “You don’t believe in God either.”

“Maybe not.”  Diomedes rubbed his chin.  “I’m not so thick that I can’t see there’s good stuff in the Bible.  Especially when it comes to avoiding stuff like…..” 

He paused.  He really did not want to tear into his brother.  Just because being around him was hard did not mean he wanted to hurt him.  Jason took the crimes of their people harder than anyone in the community.  Diomedes was only six at the time, but he remembered mom teaching him about their history.  He heard him crying in his room for a week after that.

“Um….bad habits.”  He went with that.

“Bad habits?”  Jason snorted.  “Like it even matters.  Maybe it’ll make some people happy, but it’s not for us.  Not after everything we’ve done.”  He walked up to Diomedes and put a paw on his shoulder.  “Dion…..”

Diomedes felt increasingly uncomfortable.  “….Jason?”

“There’s no forgiveness for us.  None…..what…what kind of God would allow a group of people like ours to exist?  We enslaved every nation around us.  Tortured them.  Took their wives and kids….stole their land.  Their…food and their stuff….”  He blinked and tears built on the rims of his eyes.  “No one can forgive that….it’s a blessing we were nearly wiped out.  We shouldn’t have existed in the first place.”

“You don’t mean that.  We can…..”

“Don’t.”  Jason commanded and Diomedes stopped talking.  “Don’t go.  We only bring pain.  Bad memories….I don’t care how many centuries it’s been or if we weren’t even born yet.  It’s still there.  The only thing we can do is…..is live our lives like this.  Stay hidden and just…try to find happiness where we can.”

“We can do better.”

“No we can’t….only happiness I can give other people is with my art.”  He inclined his head toward the pile of sketches.  Diomedes looked long enough to get a glimpse, but looked away quickly.  A tiger wearing something provocative.  Jason tried not to draw skunks.

“…..you know you’re killing yourself.”  It slipped from Diomedes’ mouth before he knew it.  He winced.  “I mean…”

Jason wiped the tears from his eyes and smiled.  “Heh, like it matters?  I feel fine.  I’m…uh, kind of busy.  Have to…finish some coding and then…uh, I’m behind on some commissions…”

Diomedes nodded.  “I’ll leave, then.  Nice talking to you.”  He walked away.  Halfway to the door, Jason called after him.

“Yeah….and….Dion….you can always come back.  At least we have each other?”

“……Sure.”  He slipped through the door as quickly as possible.

Once outside, he let out a long exhale to clear the memories of that place.  He felt bad for Jason.  He may still be a teenager, but he knew a broken person when he saw one.  He was not the first person to try and talk Jason out of this and, hopefully, would not be the last.

The worst part was not that Jason felt so unforgivable he ran directly into numbing himself with whatever he could.  Diomedes almost understood that.  The worst part was he agreed with him about their past.  Getting out of this town would help.  He refused to live his life in a den reeking of gin, rubber, computer chips, and shame.