The morning birds trilled, declaring their territory. It was hot out already, even though the sun was barely up over the horizon, but the wind took the edge off. Nyx escorted Kismet to the library to deliver her paperwork to Watcher Liz.

Kismet trailed behind her, chewing on the soggy cuff sleeve of the hoodie Nyx lent her.

I wish she wouldn't. At least it's not one I care for much.

Kismet seemed to slip in and out of various degrees of lucidity at a moment's notice. She'd stare off, sometimes only for a few seconds, then carry on like nothing happened. When they talked, it was as if she looked right inside of her.

It’s a little bit unnerving.

After a few blocks of houses, they exited the residential area to find themselves in the village-core; A single street with shops, including the market, and public service buildings lined either side. The centerpiece was the gas station on one side, and the town hall on the other. The buildings were all made of wood, almost resembling cabins themselves. This time of year, all the flower beds under the shop windows were in full bloom, inviting butterflies and bees.

Kismet's hazel eyes darted in quick, rhythmic motions. Mutants hurrying to and from the stores shuffled past them. The headphones came out of her sweater pocket and she clamped them over her ears.

"You ok?" Nyx asked, poking her shoulder.

"Huh?" She dipped her headphones.

"Do you need a break?"

"Uh - no, why?"

"Your headphones." Nyx said, pointing at them. "We can go sit somewhere quieter or something. All you gotta do is say so."

"Yeah," Kismet said. "Maybe a break would be kinda nice."

Nyx led her across the street toward a park where they sat on a wooden bench. Oak trees were planted in each quadrant, divided by stone walkways casting shade over the grass and wildflowers. A gazebo decorated the center, shielding a shallow fountain while pigeons splashed in the water.

Kismet doubled over, clutching her head between her forearms. "I'm really sorry."

"Please stop apologizing," Nyx said. "You're driving me nuts."

"Sor- Ok."

They sat for a while. Kismet kept her eyes closed, concentrating on her music while Nyx smoked another cigarette and watched the pigeons wander around, pecking at piles of scattered seed. All of the other villagers went about their business and for the first time, Nyx felt like she was sitting on the outside. Even though she could recognize just about everyone in the park, she felt like a stranger. None of them knew how her life had turned upside down in a single moment. There was no one to turn to without risk. More than anything, she wished she could talk to her parents.

They would know what to do. They might even have some answers.

When Kismet was ready, she clicked her CD player off and lowered her headphones.

“No one has ever done that for me before,” she said, fiddling with the cuffs of her sweater.

Nyx took the cigarette out of her mouth. “Did you tell anyone about your powers?”

Kismet tensed, nibbling the bottom of her lip. “Just one person when I was young, then never again. Not until I met Alistair.”

I wonder what happened? There’s a lot of discrimination on the mainland, but I couldn’t imagine…

She tensed, thinking of Angel.

I don’t want this for him, but what choice does he have?

“It must have been hard to hide them,” Nyx said, watching the ashes from the end of her cigarette fall to the cobblestones at her feet.

“It’s like holding your breath all the time,” Kismet explained, wringing the life out of her sweater sleeves. “Eventually your chest just gets so tight from the pressure, you’re left gasping. Like anything, you gain a tolerance for it, but you need to breathe and come up for air at some point, or else it really does feel like dying.”

“Was there anything that could make it better?” Nyx asked.

“I dunno. There’s not much anyone else could have done for me, but I think just sitting here like this is helpful. Having the space to catch my breath makes a world of difference.”

Nyx nodded, taking careful note of Kismet’s words.

I may not be able to change the situation for Angel, but I can at least try and make things easier on him. If he’s willing to accept my help at all.

They left the park, heading toward the library. This time, Kismet moved with more ease, no longer scanning the crowd.

They reached the library. It was squashed between the hardware store and a barber shop. The yellow shingle-siding had hardly weathered the storms, stripped bare in some sections. A row of books pressed their faces to the front window, peering over the tulips in the window beds.

A small bell tinkled as Nyx opened the peeling red door. She was immediately greeted by the familiar scent of dust and mildew. It took her back to school days, spending hours cramming for tests at the last minute, hunched over stacks of books.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

They stepped around the corner to the main room. A desk was crammed in the far corner. A filing cabinet jammed in the back blocked out the other window so the room was dimmed. Bookshelves lined the walls, but there were plenty of gaps.

Kismet shifted her weight from foot to foot, looking up at Nyx with wide eyes.

“I was filling out the forms this morning and I couldn’t answer most of the questions,” she whispered.

“What do you mean? I can help you, if you want?” Nyx asked.

“No,” Kismet’s cheeks blazed red and she looked away, examining the book shelves instead. “I don’t know who my biological parents are. I don’t even know my real birthday. I did my best to fill out what I could, but what if Liz won’t accept the papers and send me away -”

“She won’t.” Nyx rested her hand on Kismet’s shoulder.

The smaller woman flinched, instinctually pulling away from the touch.

The poor thing is so sensitive. I’ve never known Daisy to be such a raw nerve, even with similar abilities.

“The documents are just a formality. Watcher Liz’s opinion is what matters,” Nyx explained. “As Ivy’s representative, she has final say.”

Kismet didn’t seem to settle. Instead, she drifted toward the books, tracing the spines with her finger, muttering their names as if taking inventory.

What a strange girl.

“Good afternoon.” Watcher Liz’s warm voice made Nyx jump as she stepped in from the backroom. She wore the typical all-black attire made up of a puffy sleeved blouse and sleek pants. Her short black hair was thin and cut to her chin, the ends straight as a knife’s blade. Dark eyes glittered, crinkling the crow’s feet at the edges as she smiled. “Is there something I could help you with? I hope you weren’t waiting long?”

Kismet froze, staring at the Watcher with large, round eyes. She seemed to disappear inside her sweater, scrunching the sleeves in her hands.

“This is Kismet,” said Nyx when the other girl failed to introduce herself. “She’s from the mainland and is wondering if she can stay here?”

“I - I have my papers.” Kismet reached into the front pouch of her sweater and handed over the small stack of wrinkled documents.

“Oh, you’re Kismet. Daisy told me to be expecting you. These shouldn't take long to process.” Watcher Liz took the papers from her, scanning them over. ”You used to work at a bookstore? I could sure use a hand here if you'd like to join me?"

"Yes, I'd like that." Kismet’s shoulders dropped in relief.

“Wonderful,” Liz smiled, then turned to Nyx. “Would you mind speaking with me privately for a moment?”

Nyx’s jaw clenched.

What could she possibly want to talk to me for?

“You’re not in any trouble,” The older woman assured her. “It’s only a chat.”

“Oh, um, ok.” Nyx, spared a glance at Kismet. “You’ll be ok to wait out here then?”

Kismet nodded, already distracted by the books, and Nyx followed Liz into the backroom. The afternoon sun lit the space, managing to illuminate the narrow aisles. Nyx wove along between the shelves until they reached the back corner.

“I heard about the fight,” Liz began.

Fuck.

Nyx’s heart sped up, beating a rapid tattoo beneath her ribs. She wiped the sweat from her palms on the front of her jeans.

“How is Angel? I haven’t seen him around. Not that he comes to the library much anyway,” Liz laughed.

“Oh, it was all a misunderstanding,” said Nyx, trying to smile. “He’s totally fine.”

“I was quite worried for him.”

Nyx averted her gaze, examining the books instead, finally seeing the appeal Kismet found in their distraction. “Did you happen to, ya know, say anything to Ivy…”

“I wanted to check in with you first.” Liz gently touched Nyx’s elbow so she would turn and look. The older woman’s dark eyes were serious, yet not without kindness. “If there was a problem, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course.”

“I understand the fear this island has of Ivy. Believe me, I do,” said Liz, “but she means well. Truly, she only wants to help.”

I appreciate the sentiment, but Liz was already a Watcher at the Old Academy when Ivy took over. She sees her only as a liberator. I don’t think she’ll ever get it.

“What about when she came here twelve years ago?” Nyx asked, trying to keep her voice level. “She almost killed June. She sucked up Bill. How was that helping?”

Liz lowered her head with an exasperated sigh. “The woman heals stadiums full of individuals in need, yet you all cling to this incident so tightly as a hallmark of her true nature. It’s not the power, it’s the person. Ivy dos her best to maintain balance. That event was unfortunate, yes, but Bill broke very clear laws. If mutants give humans a reason to believe we’re uncontrollable or dangerous, they’ll come for all of us again. The lives of many far out-weigh the lives of the few.”

Nyx shuddered at the memory of Ivy gliding along the road, black cloak flowing behind her. The pale blue tint to her skin made her translucent like glass.

“Why not arrest him? Why absorb him if not to make an example?” Nyx’s stomach dropped, a chill running through her veins as a sickening realization seeped in, imaging how Ivy faded under the moonlight like an apparition. “It’s part of her powers, isn’t it? She’ll disappear if she doesn’t.”

“Yes,” said Liz, “but it’s not that simple. You were born right at the end of the war, your life is so different from ours. The old Academy was a prison. We were captured and exploited. If not for Ivy, we’d still be there, worked to death, experimented on, you name it. When Ivy absorbed Headmaster Vaughn, she freed us, but at a great cost to herself.”

Nyx fixated on every word, too enraptured to even breathe. She was familiar with the story of liberation and the following revolution, but the more nuanced details of Ivy’s abilities were not often mentioned in history class.

“Certain abilities generate more life-force than others,” Liz continued. “Vaughn’s nucleokinesis and subsequent regenerative abilities infused him with a vast amount of it. When Ivy absorbed him, and then the others during the war, she gained immortality but at the price of her corporeal form. So to answer your question, she does need to absorb life-force to stay solid, but I shudder to think what would become of us if she were to disappear.”

A strange sense of relief flooded Nyx despite the darker implications of Ivy’s role of judge, jury and executioner. Becoming a life-force hungry phantom was not an inevitable outcome for Angel.

Not unless he starts absorbing people. He would never intentionally hurt someone like that, but if Ivy or any Watchers confront him directly, who knows what he’ll do if he feels cornered… Then what if he happens to absorb someone like Vaughn? Or Ivy herself?

Nyx hated herself for considering that, but he was far too unpredictable. She had to prepare for the worst.

Maybe it’s possible Ivy will want to help him instead? Either way, somethings gotta give. He has to address this or else it’s only a matter of time. Just look at poor Kismet.

“Sorry to take up some of your morning,” said Liz. “I worry about you kids, you know. When I hear about these sorts of fights… Look, I don’t want Ivy to come here anymore than you all do, so I use my discretion. It’s better these activities are contained here on the island than have them gallivanting about on the mainland. I’m aware you can’t control the goings-on at The Barn, nor can you control Angel’s behavior, but he does listen to you. This can’t continue, understand?”

Does she know something? What has she heard?

Nyx tensed, nodding.

Liz patted Nyx’s arm with a warm smile. “Good girl.”