#NaNoWriMo – A Clip From Heartsong (an unedited work in progress)

Kellie and I visited the cemetery the day after they put Lillian’s headstone back, where I’d modified it. I knelt by Lillian’s grave, placed my hand on the runner of roses, and cried. My daughter was gone. I knew that. I also knew it was almost time to say goodbye. All I had left was to Jillian’s headstone. After that, I’d be able to say goodbye to them.

“Lillian, sweetheart, there’s something I have to tell you.” My hand rested on the headstone. “I want you to know, you don’t need to worry about me.” I reached for Kellie’s hand, pulled her forward. “I want you to meet Kellie.”Kel

Before Kellie could say anything I continued talking to Lillian, “See. I’ve met Kellie. So, I’m not alone here anymore.” I smiled, through the tears. “She’s my best friend. And I love her.” I spoke to Lillian like she was there. To me, she was. “I met her at breakfast one morning.”

“We became friends, started dating.” I patted the headstone. “Yeah. Me. Dating. I bet you never thought that would happen.” I paused, then continued my one-sided conversation with Lillian, “Now, don’t be mad. I know. She’s not your mother. But I know your mother would understand.”

“See, Lillian, Kellie’s moved in with me. We live together. We call it our home.” I smiled, wiped my eyes, cleared my tears, “We call just about everything ours. Our home, our cars, our money.” I did my best to smile.

“You know I’m slow sometimes.” I knew Lillian would laugh at that. “And it takes me a while to figure some things out.” I stuck my hand in my pocket. The small box with the ring inside rested in the palm of my hand. “It took me a while to figure out how I feel about her.” It was time to go for it. “I figured that out when I made a fairy for her.” Kellie almost blushed at that. “And you know, I don’t make things for people without a reason.” I took Kellie’s hand. “I told you I love her.” I paused, looked into Kellie’s eyes. Something I wanted to do every day, forever. “And I know your mother would approve of what I’m about to do.”

I stayed on my knees, shifted to face Kellie. Then, moved one leg forward, so I was on one knee. I put my hand back in my pocket, wrapped my fingers around the box. “Kellie, my love.” I pulled the ring out, opened the box, and held it out to her. “Will you marry me?”

She knocked me over as she threw her arms around my neck, and we wound up on the ground, in one heck of a kiss. When she finally came up for air I managed to get out, “I take it that’s a yes?”

“Yes!” she screamed and kissed me once more. “Yes!”

I got to my knees, helped Kellie to hers, then patted the top of Lillian’s headstone. “Well, Lillian, what do you think? You’re not angry are you?”

To this day I swear I heard her answer, “I’m so happy!”

It was my turn to kiss Kellie. And that’s exactly what I did.

And the voice between heartbeats said, “It’s almost time. Listen to your heart. It will tell you what to do. It won’t ever lie to you.”

We left the cemetery and headed back to our home. That’s what it was. What we wanted. Our home.

#FinishThatThought 45 : You Should’ve Stayed On The Path

“You should’ve stayed on the path.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d heard those words. It wouldn’t be the last. I’d make certain of that. “No.”

Tim gave me that exasperated look. You know. The one people give you when you are different from them, don’t share their values, or their view of life. “What about your future? Your career?”

“My career, as you know it, is dead.” I always loved seeing someone’s face when I said such inflammatory things. To me, they were normal things to say. Truthful things to say. To someone like Tim, they were disruptive, intimidating, aggressive, and scary.

“You don’t mean that.”

I laughed. “Yeah. I do.”

“You’ll be throwing everything away.”

“I’d explain everything,” I smiled, and shook my head, “but you’d never understand.”

“Try me.”

How do you tell someone they are walking along a path to a dead-end? How do you explain to someone they’re doing what their parents did. What their grandparents did. What their great grandparents did. Generation, after generation. The same path. The same life. The same pursuits, passions, goals, definitions.

“I told you once,” I knew trying to explain was useless, “everyone here, you, the people who work for you, the people you work for. You’re all the same. The same dreams, goals, hopes, fears, everything.” It was really sad to think about it. To understand how Tim didn’t even know.

“You know that feeling you get sometimes? The one you get when you look in the mirror? The one that doesn’t last long, maybe a minute, maybe less? The one that says everything’s wrong?” I had to laugh. “Yes, Tim. I know about that feeling. The one you never can admit it there. The one you can never feel.”

Tim sat there. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he stopped breathing, and if his heart stopped beating.

“Yeah, Tim. That one. The one that says everything is wrong.”

“You should have stayed on the path.”

“I know, Tim. It’s what we do. We stay on the path. We behave.” I couldn’t tell him what he already knew. How we what we’re supposed to do. Be what we’re supposed to. Get married. Have a family. Buy a house. Buy cars. Have a respectable job, and a steady, predictable income. Be in control of life. With everything organized. Everything planned. Just like our parents. And, by God, that’s how we’ll make our children.

“That’s why I’ve left the path. And I’m not coming back.”

Too bad Tim would never understand.

427 Words
@LurchMunster


I wrote this for Week 45 of Alissa Leonard‘s Finish That Thought. Please, go read all the creatively shared stories in this week’s challenge.

#ThursThreads Week 95 : This Place Is Mine

Hank stood on his back doorstep. It was his first weekend home from the stupidity of everything. He was fire-breathing angry about having been arrested for child abuse. He’d never laid a hand on Jessica. He’d just tried to get her to behave properly. He’d just locked her in her room to stop her from wandering around the neighborhood in the middle of the night.

He’d done that for her safety!

And it hadn’t been his fault she wouldn’t eat. She’d had the opportunity every morning, and every evening. He made sure she knew she could eat any time she wanted to.

The whole thing had gone to court. He’d been found guilty, of course, and sent to therapy. They took him from his home. Made him spend weeks in a hospital enduring treatment for no reason! He’d done what they told him to. And they let him out. And he was home.

He stood on his back doorstep, and looked at the back yard. Everything needed cutting, and edging, and his gardens needed weeding. He started toward his tool shed. “This place is mine!” He pulled out his lawn mower. “And I’m going to make it into what I want!”

As he worked, he felt his life returning to normal. He was happy his daughter, Jessica, wasn’t around to get ill, and cry, and get her headaches like she did every time he took care of his yard. Without her there, he could finally be normal.

248 Words
@LurchMunster


I wrote this for Siobhan Muir‘s #ThursThreads, Week 95. It’s a little clip from the NaNoWriMo story I am working on Hope you like it. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are good reading.

#FlashFriday #36 : Babies!

She carried her three sons in a wicker basket. It was their first time out of the house. Their first time out in the sun. Their father didn’t know she’d bundled them up. He didn’t know she wasn’t in the house. His three sons were not asleep in their cribs. She was not playing the part of his wife.

She carried her three sons in a wicker basket. She was leaving him, never to return. She was taking her sons with her. As she walked she smiled, and laughed. She was free of him. And so were her sons.

99 Words
@LurchMunster


I wrote this for Rebekah Postupak‘s #FlashFriday, Week 36. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #Flash Friday. They are good reading.

#MWBB 20 : Home

I left her. I got up that Monday morning, and got ready for work, like I had for years. I left the house precisely at 0715 hours, like I had on Mondays for years. But I didn’t drive to work. I drove. I left town, and I kept driving, heading west. I drove all day long, stopping only for food and restroom breaks.

I left her. I left my job. I left my home. I left my life. I had to.

As I drove, I remembered my parents, growing up in their home. I’d never known they were in love. They always screamed at each other. Night after endless night. I used to lie awake at night, listening to the front door slam as Dad left. Listening to Mother cry. Listening to the silence when she finally fell asleep on the sofa, Listening to the front door open as Dad got home, just before dawn. Listening to him stagger through the house to the bathroom, where he threw up again, from drinking himself sick.

As I drove, I remembered the night Mom stayed awake until he got home. He was drunk, of course. She screamed at him. He screamed back at her. They fought. I remember seeing the bruises on both of them at breakfast that morning.

As I drove, I remembered my brother’s wedding, how he and Tabitha had been so happy. I remembered how proud he was of his baby girl. How he got sick at work one day, heaving his guts into the toilet. How they sent him home that day, and he walked into his own home, where Tabitha was naked, sitting on a naked man he’d never seen, her legs straddling him, as she softly moaned.

As I drove, I remembered the niece I had once. How my brother covered her head with a pillow, suffocating her, then went to the garage of his home, locked the door, got in his car, and turned it on. How they found him the next day, cold as ice, with the car still running.

As I drove, I remembered the woman I loved so passionately. How she always wanted more. More of everything. How I had to stay in that job I hated, to keep buying her the things she wanted. How she never slept with me any more, or even slept in the same room as me any more. How she always went out at night, “with the girls”. How I wondered if who she was sleeping with.

As I drove, I remembered how she’d once been beautiful. How her smile faded away with time, being replaced by empty eyes, and lines of age on her face. How he figure changed from a beautiful hourglass to a pear. We used to hold hands, years ago. I wondered when that stopped. She used to kiss me good morning, and fix me breakfast. That too faded, until she never stirred when I woke to go to work, and breakfast became a can of soda, and a bowl of cold cereal with milk.

As i drove, I remembered how I’d once been in love with her. How that love had grown cold and died. Like the love my Mom and Dad once had. I knew that’s why people started homes. They were in love. And thought they always would be.

I left her on a Monday morning, while she was still asleep, and I was heading to work.

Because I remembered homes become cold, and lifeless, and slowly kill the people living in them. And I knew the only thing I could do for her, and for me, was leave. And in so doing, free us both from the trap our home had become.

624 Words
@LurchMunster


My entry, in all its unedited glory, for week 20 of Jeff Tsuruoka‘s Mid-Week Blues-Buster flash fiction challenge. Please, go read the other entries in the challenge.

#VisDare 26 : Engraved

After Mastermind left, I took Alice’s hand, and we walked the streets of old Phoenix. The cats watched us for a time. Then, one stopped in front of me, “Please follow.” We did. The cat led us out of old Phoenix, down a quiet path to a small, old house next to the lake.

“I’ve never seen this,” Alice stepped closer to me, looking at the cat, “What is this place?”

The cat walked to the door of the house, and mewed. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing an old man. His face etched with his age. “Welcome, children.” He motioned us to come into his home.

“Who are you?”

The cat answered, “The ancient one. He was here at the beginning.”

Alice stared at the cat. “The beginning?”

The old man smiled. “Many centuries ago.” He walked back inside, and Alice and I followed.

147 Words
@LurchMunster


This is part 21 in the continuing story I’m working on for Angela Goff’s Visual Dare. Please read the other entries in this week’s Visual Dare challenge.

#FSF : Home

They say home is where your heart is. But what if you don’t feel anything? If your heart is frozen and lifeless, like stone, where is your home? I opened the door to my car, and stepped out, into my driveway. Knowing I had no home.


Here’s my weekly attempt at Lillie McFerrin‘s flash fiction challenge, Five Sentence Fiction. This week, the prompt is Home.

Please, go read all the other entries to this week’s Five Sentence Fiction. It’s amazing what creative people can do with just five sentences.

#5SF – Shadows

He has night lights in the corners of every room, closet and hallway in his home. They point into the corners, so the corners never have any shadows. So they are never dark. He says it makes him feel safe. He says no demons can hide in the dark corners of his home.


Here’s my weekly attempt at Lillie McFerrin‘s flash fiction challenge, Five Sentence Fiction. This week, the prompt is Shadows.

Please, go read all the other entries to this week’s Five Sentence Fiction. It’s amazing what creative people can do with just five sentences.

Fairies : Sword (Part 3)

With the coming of the dawn, Merlin’s voice shattered the quiet of the forest. The sound of a metal sheet being ripped in half. Sword had never heard such a thing in all his days. But he figured it was OK. None of the girls seemed worried about it.

He watched as Mystica came out of her home in the trees on the far side of the lake. She stood there, on a branch, as if she was waiting for someone. And it wasn’t long before the shadows in the trees came to life. And a tiny dragon emerged. A black dragon. With teeth shaped like swords. And razor-sharp claws.

The dragon had landed next to Mystica. And the two of them had spoken for a time. Then Mystica was encased in a pale white glow, and floated quickly across the lake. By the time she landed in the clearing, all the girls had gathered in the clearing too. They were waiting for her. Sword decided to walk over to them. After all, this was the morning Mystica had said they would start the journey to take him home.

There was one of the fairy girls that Sword had noticed many times in his days at the lake. The little fairy named Rose. She couldn’t have been more than 5 years old. Maybe 6. And she could fly. Better than he could. Much better than he could. She could do everything a master flier could. Hover. Fly backwards. Upside down. Loops. Circles. Just off of the ground. Between trees. You name it. He’d never known a child fairy that could fly like Rose could.

As everyone had gathered in the clearing, Sword couldn’t help but wonder how such a group would possibly take him all the way across the forest, back to the ocean where he lived. It would be a journey of days for him and Mystica. But add in the girls, and that journey would get much longer. He knew that. But he wouldn’t say anything. It had been many weeks since he’d been in his home, the sea. If it took a few more days, he could live with that. And the girls had been very kind to him. Doing what they could to help him. He knew that. And yes, he was grateful to them. He knew he would not have survived without their help, and care.

As he was wondering how long it would take for an adult and a bunch of children to journey across the forest to the sea, he noticed shadows forming on the ground, and over the lake. And those shadows grew rapidly, becoming very large indeed. He looked up over the lake. And much to his surprise, three dragons were there, in the sky. Wings spread. Flying very rapidly indeed. Heading straight for the lake.

Sword recognized the first dragon. The biggest dragon of the three. The color of burnt charcoal. That was the dragon that had protected him. Watched over him. In the village on the sand. He watched that dragon, and the others, as they approached the clearing. The clearing wasn’t large enough for all three of them at once. So, one at a time, they landed. Starting with the big dragon. The dragon Mystical called Scream.

Sword watched as Musica, the oldest of the fairy girls, climbed up on Scream’s back. She took Fauna, and Dream with her. The three of them settled right down on that giant dragon’s back. As if they’d ridden on him many times before. And Sword realized exactly how they were all going to make the journey to the ocean. To his home.

They’d be riding on the dragons.

Oh, but he was going to have one heck of a story to tell everyone when he got home! Was he ever!

He watched as Scream took flight. And a second dragon landed. Sword was quit surprised by the color of that dragon. He’d never seen a dragon that was pale blue. It was a beautiful dragon, with eyes that shined just like diamonds. If diamonds were a brilliant blue. Or so Sword thought. Rose and Sunshine climbed aboard that dragon. And when they had seated themselves on the dragon’s back, that pale blue dragon took to the sky.

The third dragon landed. This one was the same color as a raging fire. Sword had never seen anything like that. A living creature that looked like living fire. And Mystica took him by the hand, and the two of them had climbed up on that fiery dragon. Soon they were airborne too.

That’s when Sword heard that sound again. The sound of metal being torn asunder. And with that sound, the dragons headed East. Across the forest. Toward the ocean. Toward his home.

Even with the dragons, it was a journey of three days. But that was OK. In that three days, he got to sleep above the ground. High up in the trees. He got to hear beautiful music, and beautiful songs, played by Musica. Those songs always seemed to calm him down. Reassure him that everything would be OK. He had marvelous dreams. Of being back in the sea. Swimming through it’s depths. Talking with the creatures of the deep once more. It was as if he’d returned home in his dreams.

And the sun shined down from above, on the three dragons, Sword, and his fairy friends, each of those three days. And Sunshine smiled and laughed so much on those three days.

Every now and then, the dragons would slow down, and Rose would take off. Flying from one dragon to the other. Checking on everyone. Sword never would figure out how she always had another rose to give to him. And it was amazing to see such a tiny fairy flying right next to the heads of such big dragons. Talking with them. Laughing with them. Smiling. And just having fun.

It took three days to reach the ocean. And honestly, Sword found he wouldn’t have minded at all, if it had taken three days more.

Fairies : Sword (Part 2)

Mystica looked across the clearing, by the edge of the lake. The boy was standing there. Looking at his reflection in the water. It had been nearly two weeks since Mystica and Scream had rescued him from the village by the sea. Where he had been whipped nearly to death. His body was fully healed. Mystica had seen to that, using her White Magic to heal his physical wounds.

Her White Magic could not, however, heal the wounds within his heart and soul. The only things that could heal those were time, and the boy himself.

The boy had no name. At least, not yet, anyway. He’d refused to say his name at any time. When Rose and Fauna had asked him his name, he’d told them he didn’t have a name.

Musica was doing the best she could. Writing new songs, and new music for him every day. Always singing, and playing where he could hear her. And Mystica could tell that the music was something he needed. She’d even seen him look into the water of the lake while Musica played. And she’d see the tears he’d cried.

Dream watched Mystica. She could tell that Mystica was very much concerned for the boy. So, Dream spoke with Sunshine that day. She pulled Sunshine into the edge of the woods. “Our boy is very hurt, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Dream. He is.” Sunshine looked sad. Which explained the grey color of the sky, and the clouds on that day. “I wish there was something we could do to help him. To show him we’re his friends. And that he’s not alone again. And that we’ll never hurt him.”

Dream smiled. “I know! I have an idea!” She put a hand on Sunshine’s shoulder. “Why don’t you smile for a while. I’ll have to give you a reason to. I know. You are you. And you can’t turn your smile on and off.”

“You like him, don’t you, Dream?”

“What?”

Sunshine smiled. “You like our boy.” Dream blushed. Her cheeks turned bright pink. And she could feel the heat in her shoulders. Sunshine just smiled even more. “You like our boy.” Then she said to Dream, “That makes me happy. That makes me smile.”

Dream smiled to. And the heat in her shoulders started to fade away. As did the pink in her cheeks. “Yes. I like him. He’s cute.”

Sunshine said, “I’ll smile more now. I like thinking how you like him.” Then she looked at Dream, “I like him too, you know. But he’s so sad. So hurt.”

Dream could see Sunshine’s smile start to fade. So she decided to tell Sunshine the rest of her plan. “I’m going to speak with Momma. I’m going to ask Momma if I can walk in our boy’s dreams. And see if there’s something there that he’s afraid of. Something there that’s hurting him.”

At that, Sunshine’s smile grew strong once more. And it remained strong through the rest of the day.

Mystica walked up to the boy. Standing by the lake. She reached out a hand, and touched his shoulder. He didn’t stop her. “There’s something I wish to show you,” she said. He didn’t move. He just stood there. Looking into the water of the lake. So, Mystica continued on. She looked at the water of the lake, and she spoke to it, calling the White Magic. “Show me the ocean.”

The mirror like surface of the lake shifted, white shapes taking form on it. Until the image of a strip of sand appeared. Next to that enormous body of water. That body of water that had such huge waves near the shore. Mystica knew it as the ocean. She knew it was surf. But she’d never seen it in her life. Until she’d gone to the village by the ocean, and rescued the boy.

She left the image of the ocean’s shore on the lake. Her hand resting on the boy’s shoulder. While he watched. “Your home is there, isn’t it?” The boy said nothing. But Mystica couldn’t help but see the longing look in his eyes. “By the ocean. That’s where your home is, isn’t it?”

The boy spoke. For the first time in days. “No.” Mystica was surprised. “Not by.” The boy turned and looked at Mystica. “In.”

“In?” Mystica was somewhat surprised. She’d never known anyone to live in the sea. “You live in the sea?”

The boy had looked at Mystica. Right into her eyes. “Yes.”

Before Mystica could respond, the boy had spread his wings, and taken flight over the lake. Just above the surface of the water. He flew rapidly to the center of the lake. And then, he dove. Straight down.

Mystica followed him. She called on the White Magic to encase her. And protect her. And it did. Keeping her safe, as she dove beneath the surface of the lake. And followed the boy, all the way to the bottom of the lake. Maybe 15 or 20 feet deep.

It was there that she saw the boy, walking along the bottom. Perfectly at ease underneath the water. Perfectly at home. He walked there. Looking at the rocks. At the mud. And the solid ground. Looking at the fish that swam. As if it was all something he’d done all his life.

Then, the boy stopped, and looked at Mystica. And he spoke. Underwater. “I belong in the sea. I want to go home.”

Mystica couldn’t speak under the water. The boy seemed to know that. So, he pushed off the bottom, and returned to the surface of the lake. Stretching his wings out, and taking flight once more. Mystica following. They both returned to the clearing. By the edge of the lake. “I want to go home,” the boy repeated.

Mystica finished his sentence for him. “To the sea.”

“Yes.”

Mystica thought for a moment. Then looked around the clearing, at her adopted daughters. Musica, Dream, Rose, Sunshine and Fauna. And she smiled. “I somehow think my daughters would like to see the ocean.”

She turned to the boy, and said. “We’ll start the trip in the morning.” Then she smiled at him, “And thank you, for letting me know where you come from.”

Later that day, just before the sun set, Dream called for Mystica, “Momma! Momma! I would like to talk with you!” Mystica had used her wings, and slowly flown across the lake. It was hard for her to fly. She’d injured that wing in her battle with the wolves years ago. And it had never healed quite right. She could still fly. But only slowly. And only with a lot of effort. And only for short distances.

She landed, softly, on the grass next to Dream. “Momma. I have to ask you something. But it’s a secret.” So, Mystica had crouched down, on her knees, so Dream could whisper in her ear. “I want to visit the boy’s dreams. I want to see what kind of dreams he has. So I can try to help him.”

Mystica was surprised, to say the least. Dream was certainly growing up quickly. And sometimes, Mystica was afraid that Dream’s curiosity would get the better of her. So, she closed her eyes, and asked the White Magic for guidance. And the White Magic showed her nothing. All she heard was a single thought. “Follow your heart.”

Mystica’s heart told her to let Dream try. Told her how much she loved Dream. As if Dream were a true daughter. Told her that Dream would be OK. And that Dream was going to try anyway. Even if Mystica told her not to.

“Yes, Dream. You can try. But please know that I’ll always be where you can find me, if you should need me.”

When the sun set that night, the boy settled in for one last night on the ground. He always slept by the edge of the lake. On the grass. Where he could hear the sounds of the water of the rivers that flowed into and out of the lake.

That night, Dream waited until the boy was asleep. And then she walked across the grass. Settling on the ground next to him. And she reached out a hand for the first time in her life. And put it on the boys cheek. And said one single word. “Dream.”

Dream was walking along the bottom of the ocean. There were all kinds of strange fish, and plants that she’d never seen. But the boy knew them all. And as she watched him in his dream, she heard him cry, “Mother! Mother! Where are you! Help me! Please help me!”

She watched him as he closed his eyes in his dreams that night. And dreamed of his mother. Slowly, as Dream watched, a figure started to take shape. A full grown fairy. And not just any fairy. This fairy had a crown upon her head. And a trident that she carried. She had a regal air. And Dream could tell that she ruled the ocean. That the fish, the plants, and all the creatures of the sea, recognized her. And knew her. As their queen.

The boy’s dreams continued on. And she saw him swimming. She was swimming right along with him. She never saw the net. Neither did he. He ran head first into it. And got tangled up. The net twisted around him. Trapping his arms. His legs. His wings.

And the net got pulled up. Up, and out of the water. As it did, the boy was exposed to the sky. She knew he’d never seen the sky. The sun. The clouds. The boy was absolutely terrified. Frozen by fear.

The net dropped, landing on the deck of a boat. With a hard thud. Dream felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Something started to untangle the net. And Dream realized it was humans. Several of them. And when they saw the boy, the leaped on him. Pinning him down. Trapping him on the boat.

That’s when the boy had called on fairy magic. Fairy magic his mother had taught him. He’d flexed his wrist. Like he was holding a short sword. And that invisible sword of fairy magic had sliced into the arms of one of the humans. Drawing blood. As if a real sword had been drawn.

The other humans had backed away. The boy standing in the midst of them. Swinging his arms. Running at his captors. Trying to get to the water once again. It only took a few seconds for one of the humans to get behind him. And hit him over the head with a wooden pole. And then, the boy collapsed. Unconscious. On the deck of the boat.

Only to wake up in a prison cell. His arms bound by chains. His feet chained to the floor. Two men guarding him. Each with a bow and arrows. He knew there was nothing he could do. That they were out of his reach. That they could shoot him with the arrows.

He knew he was doomed.

Dream knew the rest of the story. The circle in the village. The whips. The pain. The hurt. Being left to slowly die on the sand. The arrival of Scream. Then the arrival of Mystica.

Dream quietly pulled her hand away from the boy’s cheek. She stood up. And walked away. Quietly. Mystica was waiting outside Dream’s little home in the trees. “Good. You are OK.”

All that Dream would do was say, “I know his name.”

She looked at Mystica. “I know his name. His name is Sword.”

Mystica had held dream for a while. Dream had been through a lot that night. The first night she’d ever walked within another’s dreams. And it had been a big test of her self. Her confidence. Her control. She’d told Mystica everything. Everything she’d seen in Sword’s dreams. And she’d cried herself to sleep that night.

Like the 6 year old girl that she really was.