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Nearly 100 Views, 6 Reviews, 7 Follows and a Favorite, all in the span of about a week. This is crazier than I could've imagined. And I have all of you reading to thank for it.
I will admit, this chapter was extremely tough to write. I rewrote the entire thing at least five times; I was that frustrated with it. Link is very difficult to write, especially with him having literally no backstory in any of Skyward Sword. It's super fun to imagine his strange little world, but extremely annoying at the same time.
THANK YOU TO ANYONE WHO REVIEWED! Your feedback helps me out so much, and lets me know what I should change, and what I should keep. I PM'd you if you left a review as a user, and I responded to guests just below here. Again, thank you all, and review only help me out.
PersonWhoReads: Thank you so much for that review! I smiled so much when I read it! I really appreciate the review!
Tartan: I'll be honest here, I literally laughed for like five minutes when I read this. I don't know if it's supposed to mean anything, but it was funny. Thanks for the review!
Disclaimer: I do not own Skyward Sword or any of the Legend of Zelda franchise.
If he were to be completely honest with himself, he didn't quite understand why he remained underneath the tree by the Bazaar. He knew the girl had seen him. He knew that Gaepora had even seen him. He even knew that they were probably going to get him. And yet, he still was completely thrown off guard when that girl appeared.
Maybe it was the sheer shock that he was experiencing that prevented him from moving, or maybe it was just the fact that his entire body was freezing and he could hardly feel anything from his neck down. But he could feel something inside of him, just telling him to stay where he was; to listen to what the girl had to say to him. And he did as it said. And how he regretted that decision.
When he had gotten to that office, he couldn't help the information that he gave to them from pouring out of him. It flowed out of his hand without of control, and showed on his hands without him ever wanting it to. It was the last thing on his mind; telling the Headmaster of the Academy exactly who he was. And how old he was. And about a million other things that he could never take back, no matter how hard he wished. He could've taken the scroll when Gaepora let him go, but his body just told him to leave. It would've been pointless anyway. He probably memorized every single word that he had written on that scroll. He bet, oh by Hylia he bet, that he had probably read it nearly ten times by this point. He inwardly scorned himself for just making a simple mistake like that. He'd have to take it back the next time he went to the Academy.
The ground was still damp from the rain just a mere half-hour ago. Mud squished in between his toes, covering his small feet. He laughed at the sound it made, and who could blame him? He was a child, for Hylia's sake. He could enjoy the noise mud made when it was stepped on. He could practically do as he pleased. He was alone at the moment; there were no adults around that he could see, to his luck. He had to hurry, however. The rain finally clearing up probably meant that they'd soon be outside, and the last thing he needed today was more people seeing a child that they've never seen before.
Link still sat underneath the tree, his back pressed against the tree like it was just a bit ago. He closed his eyes, letting the warm rays of sunshine hit his rain-covered face. It felt relaxing, contradicting the harsh pellets of rain that hit his face when he sat here last. He smiled to himself, his mouth opening in a laugh that would never be formed. He quickly shut it, not wanting to look like a complete fool.
That was one of the things he hated the most; the inability to laugh. He could deal with not talking; he could easily write down everything that he needed to if he needed to speak with someone. But laughing, that was something irreplaceable. He was envious of everyones laughed, and how individualized it was to that specific person. How easy it was to them, like it was something simple like breathing, or blinking. Whenever he tried to laugh, it took all the energy he had, and yet the only noise he could make sounded like a cough. All he could do was smile, and hope the person go the message he was going for. And maybe not think that he was making a complete fool of himself.
He heard a sharp noise, and immediately stood up. He poked his head around the tree from where he was standing and looked up at the Bazaar, seeing the man who repaired items throw open the tarps that covered the entrances. He knew then it was time to leave. He'd get caught if he stayed any longer.
He stood on his toes and reached up into the tree, grabbing the book that he stole from Gaepora's office. He did feel bad about stealing from the man, but he was running low on things to entertain himself with. And since the man had so many of them, he knew "borrowing" one for about two weeks wouldn't kill him.
If someone were to look at Link, they wouldn't suspect that the small boy was fascinated by everything that he read. It was almost as if his brain craved knowledge; if he didn't have it, something in his head was missing. It was an interesting feeling, he felt like he couldn't properly function for a while. Rereading something didn't help with that either. The boy remembered practically everything that he read. He supposed that was something that came with the muteness.
He clutched the leather-bound book against his chest and did the thing that he was the best at.
He ran.
He took off in a full sprint, rounding the narrow twists and turns of the dirt path. He hopped over one of the small stone walls, never breaking the speed he was traveling at. He reached the bridge that stat over the small river, pouring water into the empty sky. He clutched the book just a bit tighter, for the fear of slipping and throwing the book into the water. It would flow down the river and fall down the clouds, and get lost on the surface for the rest of time. He crossed the bridge and turned right, sprinting past all of the small houses that sat on the other side of town; the village side. Most everyone lived on this side. It was seen as the more refined area of Skyloft. The area was like a prestigious title, only secondary to becoming a knight in the Academy. It was strange; all the houses were exactly the same as each other. But it was something about living across a river, away from all the commotion of the town's center, that made people feel like they belonged above everyone else.
Link slowed as he began to reach the very edge of the village's side. He stood on his toes, resting his arms on the small fence. It was the only thing that kept him from tumbling over the edge, and falling down towards the Surface where he would never be found. The Knights would never hear him scream; he couldn't. He'd have to hope they could see a small boy falling behind the falling water if he ever went over the edge. He shuddered at the thought and turned around, turning his gaze to the small area where he spent most of his time. The sun shone down on the stones, making the raindrops that still sat on them shine like jewels. The tree where he sat dripped with the fresh rain water, falling and shattering on the stones. It was a peaceful sight, he noticed, and it made sense for where he was standing.
The Graveyard.
Link took in a deep breath and nervously walked over towards the stones. He didn't want to read them; he was afraid he'd be haunted by nightmares. This place made him feel unsettled, like someone was constantly watching him from this place. It was the only place where he could stay, however; the feeling of constant dread was one of the prices that he had to pay. He turned and looked at the shed that was built into the hard, rock wall, sliding the wooden brown door open as he listened to it creak and shudder, moving across the slot where it rested. It revealed more stone beneath the shed, accompanied by a large, square hole in the center of the small space, leaving barely any space outside of it. Link drew in a deep breath, carefully stepping inside of the shed and onto the small space of stones. He looked down the whole, staring at the rickety wooden planks that were beneath him, and the ladder that sat in a crevice in the wall. He lowered himself down and turned, placing his foot on one of the ladder rungs. The old, wooden object creaked underneath his small weight. He flinched and closed his eyes, gripping tightly onto the two pieces that stuck out just above the whole. He let out his breath, stretching his arm out to pull the door shut. He left it open enough that he could slip his bony fingers through the crack; the door only opened from the outside. He grabbed the stolen book and placed it in-between one of the ladder rungs. He then began to move down the ladder at a lethargic speed, carefully placing his feet on the very edges of the ladder, and the same with his hands. As he moved down, he put the book just above him, between the ladder rungs. His eyes glanced down towards the wooden plank below, and he gulped out of fear. If he fell from here, there'd be no way for him to get back up to the main city. He'd be permanently stuck down there, and Link knew the consequences if that situation happened.
Link reached halfway down the ladder after many minutes of scaling down the ladder. He grabbed the book in his hand, closing his eyes tightly, and let the book fall down to the wooden plank beneath him. It hit the plank with a loud thud, but the plank didn't break. He opened his eyes back up and smiled, glad the platform didn't break. He had done this many times before, and he always feared that he'd break the only way to get to his so-called home.
After what seemed like ages, he reached the bottom, setting his bare feet on the smooth wooden planks. They too creaked underneath his weight. The planks were only supported by rickety beams that stuck out of the side of the rock. He walked towards slowly, listening to the creaks and lurches that the wood made every time he took a step. He clenched his hands, his tiny knuckles turning white. The mere idea of the Surface terrified the silent boy, enough to the point where he would rather sleep out in the open rather than in this place. He didn't want to risk it with the rainfall that occurred earlier. Although he was aware of its rareness, he didn't want to risk anything like that.
He stopped in front of the stone wall, looking at a broken wooden door that sat inside of it. Shafts of light creeped into the space that it protected, casting eerie shadows into the cave-like place. Link shuddered to himself, clenching his teeth as he slowly shuffled towards the door. He reached out one of his fair-toned hands, placing it against the broken door. He felt sharp splinters of wood press up against his hand, digging uncomfortably into his soft palm. He flinched again, opening his mouth in a silent scream before breathing heavily through his nostrils. He pushed it open, feeling the splinters push through his skin, stabbing him like tiny little swords. The door flung backwards and slammed against the wall, despite how softly Link had actually pushed it. It showed just how old the door was, and how close it was to breaking at any given moment.
The quiet child carefully stepped inside of the haunted room, only being able to see by the rays of light that entered the room. It cast light against a stone platform. The stones were cracked and broken, and several pieces of the platform were missing. The once gray rocks were now a dirty green color, covered in moss and dirt from all the times the door flew open during a windstorm. A large, crimson curtain draped across the platform, holes blotted all up and down the fabric. The edges were frayed, ripping at thousands of different lengths. There was no other light besides what he could see during the day; the entire place was pitch black when night arrived. Yet to him, this place was the closest thing to home he was ever going to get.
The boy ran over to the curtain and threw himself on it, staring up at the rocky ceiling of the room. His lips quivered, and he blinked his eyes quickly as they started to fill with tears. But he couldn't stop them from appearing in his eyes. And he couldn't stop as they fell down his face.
All Link wanted was to be normal. He could live here, he wouldn't care at all, however he only wanted to speak. Everyone that he met, whether it was today or some point in the past, had acted completely different around him. Gaepora didn't speak after he had finished reading the letter he had written. He had a friend when he was younger who didn't realize his inability to speak until he was about two, and when he figured it out, he couldn't see him anymore. And his parents-
Link stopped his thoughts before they could completely fill his fragile mind. He didn't need the thought of them in his mind, not now. Not after what had already happened.
Link sat up, wiping his tears on the sleeves of his slightly damp shirt. He rolled over and lifted up the corner of the curtain. Scrolls began to roll out across the platform, clattering down to the wooden floor. There were many of them, documenting times in Link's life when he felt it was necessary to write something. A cream feathered quill sat still beneath the curtain. It was missing little flairs of the feather, making it look bare and broken. It was the only thing he had, and as long as it worked, he wouldn't steal a quill from anyone. A foggy glass, barely filled with onyx ink, sloshed back and forth next to the quill, threatening to spill over. Link quickly grabbed it as it tipped dangerously to the side, a mere fingertip away from collapsing over the edge. He let out a short breath, fearful of losing something so rare here. He knew trying to steal anything like this would be near impossible. He had found this by luck when he stumbled across the place.
Link gracefully picked up the quill, holding the broken object in his small hands. He pulled the rock out of the top of the ink bottle, the only thing that prevented him from losing the rare substance. Frantically, he opened and closed each one of the scrolls, trying to find one that wasn't already written on. He eventually found one, a scroll with a deep, earthen tone, one that had tiny little rips lining the edges. It would have to do.
The boy tipped the edge of the quill in the ink, trying to think of words that could accurately describe everything that happened in the hours before. They began to flow out of his brain like a river, and he set the quill on the paper, and began to write what came to him.
Orielle paced outside of Zelda's room, trying to think of something to say to the young girl. Out of all the things she could've gotten caught up in, discovering a mute boy that resided somewhere in Skyloft, one Zelda had met and Gaepora had taken an interest in, had to be the situation she discovered. It had seemed like such a simple thing to say to the girl. "Just tell her he can't speak." Gaepora had said. Yet, every time she said it to herself, she couldn't imagine that Zelda would be able to understand it like she could.
She turned towards the door; something to simple seemed extraordinarily ominous at the moment. She took a single step towards its wooden frame, extending a gloved fist towards the frame, but couldn't find it in herself to knock on the door. She drew her hand back, holding it in front of her chest daintily, and dropped it back at her side once more. She walked back to her own room, softly opening to door, attempting not to let Zelda know she was entering her room. She closed the door just as softly, before running over and flinging herself on her bed. She grabbed the pillow and pressed it against her face, screaming her lungs out into the soft, feathery square. She threw it across the room, watching as it hit the door and fell to the floor with a soft thud. Orielle flipped herself over, staring back up at the ceiling. She wished that her brother hadn't dropped out of the school, and was still staying just one floor beneath her. She could really use his advice right now, but she knew, deep in the back of her mind, dragging him into this would probably be one of the worst things she could do at the moment. And so the girl laid on her bed, stared at the ceiling, and lost herself in her thoughts.
She kept trying to think of something -anything- to tell Zelda. She couldn't put it into words how difficult and unprecedented this seemingly simplistic phrase was to say. Even when she said it out loud, and she had many times already, it felt just so... abnormal. She'd have to pray to Hylia that Zelda could possibly understand this, because right now, she wasn't even that sure that she really could.
Orielle sighed and sat up in her bed, leaning her back against the wall. It was covered in thousands upon thousands of tiny pebbles, things that could have only come from the river, or maybe even the Surface. They felt rough and bumpy against the thin fabric of her shirt, digging into small divots in her back. The pebbles of a million different colors decorated the marigold colored walls, giving the walls a look of venerableness. Graphite, smoke, cloud, and even amber colored stones flowed around the walls like a Loftwing through the sky, gracefully intwining in accidental patterns that captivated the naked eye. She had never really paid any attention to the extreme detail that had gone into something like this; being lost in her own thoughts really opened up her eyes to the true beauty of Skyloft, and everything that was in it.
Orielle sat up off her bed, pacing around in her own room for what seemed like eternity. Something inside of her was pushing her to just go talk to Zelda and tell her what was happening. She didn't even completely understand why Headmaster Gaepora wanted her to reveal something this monumentous to a girl at the age of four. It was monuments to even her. Everyone in Skyloft seemed to be normal in every way possible. Everyone fell right into place with one another, fitting together like pieces of puzzle. And this boy was something different, an extra piece that didn't seem to fit quite right. A missing piece that would never be found, one lost forever. The piece of the puzzle that belonged to another. No words could really describe how the boy didn't quite seem to fit in with the rest of the citizens, and none ever would. Trying to describe the boy was like trying to form the sentence to tell to Zelda.
The older girl, caught up in far too many things for a normal twelve year old girl, placed her hands on her neck and stared up at the ceiling, exhaling loud enough that the entirety of Skyloft could hear her. She finally turned on her heels, finally facing her own door once more. She strut over to it, heels clicking the ground with every step she took. It was a nervous habit, her brother had told her. She had walked like that the entirety of their suspension from the Academy, and even some while they were suspended from flying. It had annoyed him to no end, but she could never seem to stop herself from doing it. Extending her hand, she grasped the doorknob, however her sweaty hands prevented her from opening it. She wiped her hands on her tan pants, before attempting to open the door once more. It opened, as she suspected, and she walked out into the hallway.
There wouldn't be a time where she would've ever thought that she'd ever dread the confines of the green-patterned walls. They practically haunted her, making her feel restricted into a bubble barely bigger than her own body. She felt like her lungs were constricted, folding in on themselves, to the point where taking a simple breath seemed like a laborious task. She turned sharply and stared at Zelda's door. Never had anything looked so ominous in her lifetime. She remembered when she was young, possibly a year older than Zelda, when she would be continuously haunted by nightmares. Her brother told her that there were barely any nights when one didn't tear her away from sleeping. Her screams would rip through their small household. Her brother often said he got goosebumps when he heard her haunting screams. She managed to control them, eventually.
Her screams. Not the nightmares.
Orielle let out another breath at the memory. She cracked her knuckles and began tapping her fingers on her leg, listening to the soft tap that was made when her fingers hit her cotton pants. Left hand still tapping to the beat of her heart, she extended her right, fingertips hovering mere inches over the doorknob. And yet again, she drew it back again, unable to force herself to open up the door.
But instead, the door opened, revealing the tiny, quilt-covered frame of Zelda.
The little girl looked up at Orielle with a small smile on her face. "I could hear you pacing in your room, Ori. You weren't exactly being quiet." she giggled, opening the door even more for Orielle to enter. The older girl laughed along with Zelda, but the laughing was forced. She was as far from happy as she could be; as far away Skyloft was from the Surface. She shuffled into the blonde girls room, wrapping her arm around the girls quilted shoulder. She blindly reached behind her, eventually finding the cold, metal doorknob, and pulled the door shut with a soft click. She brought her gaze up, and soft brown eyes widened when she saw the mess of Zelda's room.
Ripped up scrolls were flung at every open place: in the corners, on the bed, even on top of the dresser that stood six feet high. A used, purple quill sat on Zelda's bed, the dark-purple ink bleeding into the white sheets.
Zelda looked up at Orielle, who was gaping at her room. "I tried to write like that boy, Ori. I couldn't do it." she mumbled, sliding out of Orielle grasp. She picked up one of the scrolls, unraveling it to reveal her attempted name written in shaky letters. The 'a' was written backwards, and the 'l' upside down. "I can't even write my name, Ori. Why could he?"
Orielle walked over to Zelda quickly, picking up the small girl and setting her on the bed, as far away from the ink blot as possible. She went down to one knee, remaining eye level with her younger "roommate". She placed her hand on the girls shoulder again, trying to comfort her the best possible.
She licked her lips, trying to form a sentence to start off this incredibly difficult conversation. "Zelda, that boy was a bit… different… than me and you." she began, tearing her gaze away from Zeldas own. "He knows… quite a bit more than either one of us, girlie."
The small girls mouth opened into an 'o' shape, and blue eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Smarter than you, Ori? That isn't possible!" she exclaimed, flailing her arms out to the side. This caused laughter to come from Orielle. The girl was quite a handful at times.
Orielle looked back at Zelda, pinching her cheeks between her fingers. "You know that's not true, girlie." she laughed. Zelda giggled, lightly hitting Orielle hand away.
"Stop it, Ori!" she giggled, curling herself up into a tiny ball as she wrapped her quilt around her again. The two laughed in harmony, Orielle almost forgetting what she was supposed to be doing here. The responsibility crept into her mind once more, eating away at her laughter. Orielle became serious once more, collecting herself before lifting up the quilt that covered Zelda.
"Zelda, I need you to listen to me for a second. This is very important, girlie." she said seriously, looking straight into Zelda's eyes. "And I need you to keep this a secret, m'kay? Your father knows, and the Professors, but nobody else can. Do you understand?"
Zelda nodded, looking up at the scroll that sat on top of her dresser. "Link can't talk, can he?" she asked softly, still never meeting Orielles eyes. She had some sort of suspicion from the time when she found him underneath the tree. When he smiled instead of laughing, something sparked in her mind. It kept on whispering to her, telling the blonde girl that he was much more different than she was. Sitting behind her father's desk as the boy wrote so perfectly on that scroll had somewhat confirmed that suspicion. And now, with Orielle speaking about him seriously, it was practically a giveaway that everything she had thought was correct.
Although she refused to show it on her face, Orielle was dumbfounded by the girl figuring out what was going on this quickly. Zelda didn't seem like the type to understand things most of the time, but she picked up on some things very quickly. During the time when Orielle had gotten caught night-flying, she seemed to know everything that was going on. Orielle had suspected that her father had told her. She even confronted the Headmaster about disregarding her own personal privacy and telling everything she did wrong to his daughter, but he hadn't even known that she had done that. She ended up getting suspended from the Academy itself for a week thereafter. She had forgotten about that entire scenario up until this point; the entire memory flooded her mind.
Orielle nodded, "Yes, Zelda. He can't." she murmured, rising up and sitting on the empty space next to the small girl. She wrapped her arm around her, pulling her into a side hug. She heard Zelda sniffle, and tears began to roll down her pale face. Orielle only hugged her harder, feeling Zelda's tears spill down onto her brown pants. The two sat there in silence, because there was nothing else that either one of them could do except hold each other tightly. Orielle used her free hand to stroke the small girls hair, using yet another method to comfort the girl. She couldn't imagine how the girl could be processing this information. She had to use a lot of the strength within her to keep a composure that wouldn't scare Zelda. And it was difficult. Harder than anything else she could have imagined.
Orielle began to feel Zelda squirm in her seat, and she released the small girl, letting her rise up off the bed. The small blonde walked around the room, kicking any of the scrolls that lay around the room. Her foot met the only remaining bottle of ink, sending it crashing over, and black ink began to bleed all over the stone floor. The girl crumpled down, accepting the defeat that her emotions bestowed to her. And Orielle, who tried so hard to give her a sense of amenity, could only watch as the girls emotions took their toll.
"I-I-I fe-feel so bad f-for ye-yelling at him, O-Ori." Zelda sobbed, gasping for air between her cries. She brought her hand up towards her eyes and wiped away her tears, but that still couldn't prevent any more from cascading down onto her cheeks. "A-And now h-he's gone, a-and I c-can't say s-sorry."
Orielle immediately rose to her feet, scurrying over to Zelda. She picked up the small girl again, carrying her back over to the bed. She set her down on the edge of it as she kneeled down to meet her eyes yet again. She grabbed Zelda's face, forcing the small girl to look her straight in the eyes.
"Look at me, Zelda. Everyone makes a mistake. There was no way for you to know that he couldn't talk." Orielle said fiercely. At the mention of the last sentence, Zelda's face conformed into another one of sadness, and more tears began to fill in her eyes. Orielle used her thumb to wipe them away, and continued to look straight into Zelda's sky blue eyes. "But I'm sure he doesn't blame you for it, okay? No one does. I don't, and I know that your dad doesn't. If he wanted you to know he would have... written it to you. Now don't be upset, girlie. That won't help us say sorry to him."
Zelda gave the older girl a small smile, but it was insincere. Orielle had known the girl since the day she was born, and it was easy to tell when a lie slipped past her lips. Zelda never smiled without using her teeth. It was part of her persona.
Orielle raised up her hand and scruffled up the girls blonde hair. "I'm sure we can find him, girlie. Skyloft is only so big." she said with a smile. The small girl looked up at her, crystalline blue eyes now puffy and red. She nodded, wiping her tears away with her now damp, pink sleeve.
"C-Can you h-help me with s-something, Ori?" Zelda wondered, looking down at the ground. She folded her hands together, placing them on her lap. Her legs swung back on forth on the edge of the bed, ankles barely tapping the wooden frame.
"Anything, girlie." Orielle promised, smiling down at the small girl.
"Can you help me write a letter to Link?"
Orielle was surprised at the girls question. She was suspecting that the girl would ask Orielle to sing that one song, whose name she couldn't remember, to her like she always did. It was the song that Orielle's mother used to sing to her when she was younger, after she had one of her nightmares. It was something passed down from their family, but, oddly enough, was actually taught to their mother by Gaepora. She knew that Karane's mother had also learned the lullaby, and that was possibly the extent of everyone that really knew anything about it. But instead, the little girl had completely shocked her with this statement.
"O-Of course, Zelda." she stuttered, slipping down off the bed. She looked through all of the scrolls littered around the room, and managed to find one that was blank. She ripped the ends off of it, making it just an ordinary, rectangular shape. She grabbed the quill and bottle of ink, which barely had enough inside of it to write more than one letters worth, and set them down on the floor next to her. She crossed her legs over one another, and then pat her lap lightly. Zelda giggled and hopped off the bed, rushing over to the older girl. She sat down on her lap as Orielle wrapped her arms around the girls mid-section. The two laughed in unison, something so contradictory to the situation, and yet it fit so perfectly.
And the two girls, who shared a bond stronger that a Loftwing and it's rider, began to write a letter to the Sky's most confusing child.
Dear Link (aka, the Tree Boy I Met)
This is Zelda, that girl you met the other day, the one when it rained. My friend Orielle is writing this letter to you, because I really can't do that yet. If you found this, that means you're somewhere out in Skyloft, like my father hopes you are. As do I. If you don't, well, I hope you find it, because I really want you to read it sometime soon.
Ori told me about your voice. I'm sorry for yelling at you, and splashing you with mud. Everyone in Skyloft talks a lot, but it was nice to meet someone who just listened. I guess I can say thank you for that.
I hope I can see you sometime soon. I don't have many friends that are my age. I have Ori, of course, but she's a student at the Academy. There's Karane too, but she's eight, and only plays with Pipit and Rupin. I don't get to see her that much anymore. There's a boy named Groose, but he's really mean. I don't like him that much. He's a bit of a butthead (don't tell daddy I said that).
If you can give me a letter back, I'll know that you saw this. Just put it in the same place that I did, and I'll have Ori right another letter. Or maybe I can learn to write like you, Link. I really want to. Writing letters seems cool.
I hope I can meet you again, Link. I hope it isn't when it's raining, and both of us are scared, too.
-Zelda
Well, that's that. A letter finally came into the story!
I wanted to make the letter longer, but that wouldn't make that much sense if a four year old was essentially writing it. So I made it shorter. Sue me.
I will try to have the next chapter posted soon. That may be a week from now, or it may be a month. It really depends on how busy I am with school and other things. I hope you all liked this chapter, because it was really a struggle to write.
Bye everyone! Hope you enjoyed!