My grandfather, Numair Salmalin, was the strongest mage of his time. He passed on his powerful Gift to my mother and then me. After marrying my grandmother he lived with her in the Palace as King Jonathan's head mage and when Jonathan died he continued to work for my other grandfather, King Roald. He retired a year after I was born, moving south to live in Port Legann, my father's primary post.

Their house was just down the street from my father's, and I often ran down with Katla and Somerled to see them. Grandmama Daine would bring out her big leather-bound book of animal anatomy and I would sit on her lap as she led me through it. Grandpapa always had a new trick to show me, pulling things from behind my ear or making them disappear in his hand. His hobby was slight of the hand and he taught me everything he knew, even how to juggle. My mother lectured him for that, because the minute I learned how I went home and tried to juggle her glass measuring vials and flasks, breaking two of them before she could stop me.

He was always encouraging me in my magical studies, keeping me on task when I would have run off to play. I loved my mother and respected her, but something about Grandpapa kept me from shirking my studies, no matter how boring and tedious they became. He never yelled at me or became frustrated when I didn't get a spell right, he just told me what I did wrong and how I could fix it. It still took me days to master one thing, but his confidence in me kept my self-esteem from being effected.

Grandpapa was a big man, even in his old age. Time had hunched his broad shoulders and taken an inch or so off his height, but he still radiated power. His long hair was still full and long, albeit pure white, and his black eyes were always full of love and warmth. My mother had gotten some of his height, but I would truly benefit from it. Even as a child people knew I was going to be tall. I towered over my playmates and could look my cousins in the eye, even Liam, my Uncle Jonathan's oldest son who was almost four years older than me. I only wish that I had also inherited his powerful build to add strength to my speed.

But despite his strength, age eventually took its toll on him and he died after a month-long fight with a malignant tumor in his abdomen. I was eight years old and didn't fully understand what his dying meant. Part of me still believed that when we went home to Legann he would be there, waiting to teach me a new trick or help me with my latest spell. But when we did return for his funeral and I watched them lay his casket in the ground, the cold hard truth hit me at last.

I was surrounded by people in black. I remember Grandmama holding my hand as I cried. Her aged features were set in stone, blue-grey eyes unblinking as she watched the undertakers shovel dirt into the grave. Her grey curls her piled atop her head and covered in a sheer black veil and she wore a simple black dress that seemed out of place amongst the finery of the nobles attending the service. But she stood with more dignity and elegance than anyone there.

"Do not cry, sweetling, he's at peace now." Grandmama wrapped an arm around my thin shoulders and hugged me tightly. I could hear the slight quake in her voice and knew that she was holding back her own tears. "He wouldn't want you to feel such despair."

"But I miss him. Why can't he come back?" I was young and ignorant. Never before had anyone close to me died. I didn't understand why he had to go and why he wasn't coming back.

"His time with us is over, Melly." She led me away from the grave and down the hill to our carriage, keeping me tucked tight against her side. "The Black God has called him and he had to answer. But you will see him again one day."

I didn't understand what she meant, but I took comfort in her words. In some horrible cliché the cloud-darkened sky opened up and it began to rain, adding a final dismal quality to that wretched day. We climbed in to the carriage with my parents and began the long ride home. No one spoke and the only sound was my mother's soft sobs as she wept into my father's shoulder. Grandmama didn't look at me, her eyes distant and unfocused, and I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking.

She was fourteen years younger than Grandpapa, in good health and with many years ahead of her. I didn't see it then but as I think of it now I realize that she was looking at a grim future indeed. The man she loved more than anything in the world was gone and she would not follow him for a long time to come. She still had my mother and me, and her friends, but her spirit was broken.

Mama didn't let her stay in their empty house alone. At her insistence Grandmama sold the house and moved in with us. By doing so Mama hoped to lift her spirits, and it did seem to help, but she was quiet and often stared off into nothingness, lost in thought. Her room was next to mine and sometimes at night I could hear her crying. At such times I would crawl out of bed and slip down the hall in to her room so I could curl up in bed with her, hoping to soothe her with my presence. It helped, but sadness seemed to be embedded in her very soul.

Almost a year later she talked to me about it, sitting outside our manse in Conté and watched two hawks soaring on the thermals above. Tears fell freely from her eyes and when she took my hand her grip was tight but I could feel her trembling.

"Grandmama, what's wrong?"

She answered me with a soft voice, her blue-grey eyes fixed on the pair of hawks. "I miss him, Melly. I miss him so much."

"But you said we'd see him again someday."

She sighed and nodded, turning to look at me. "I did, and we will. But… it seems so far away. Living without him is just so hard, I don't know if I can stand it."

I didn't fully understand her words but they frightened me. "What do you mean?"

"My heart aches, Melly. It's as if someone tore a hole in it and I can't heal no matter how I try." She paused and took a deep breath. "He was a part of me. Without him I'm incomplete. And at times it's as if there's no hope for me at all."

"But you have Mama and me."

Her eyes widened and she hugged me tight. "I know, dear, I know. And don't you ever think that I don't love you with everything that I am. I cherish every moment I have with you. But…"

"Without Grandpapa it's not enough?"

She nodded. "In a way. I love my family and friends, but Numair was my other half. Without him life… hurts."

I hugged her tightly then, my own eyes full of tears. Looking up at the pair of hawks, I felt their joy. They were mates. The sun was shining and the winds were strong and everything was right in their world as they sailed on the thermals. Suddenly I understood that was how Grandmama must have felt when she was with my grandfather. I understood that if the hawks were separated the sun and the wind and all of the wonderful things in life wouldn't be the same without the one they loved.

Just over a month later Grandmama feel ill, a deep, racking cough settling in the root of her lungs and lodging itself there against all the healers' efforts. It wore away at her strength, slowly reducing her to a mere shadow of the woman she once was. Eventually the physician restricted her completely to bed.

I ate my meals with her and when I wasn't in lessons with my mother or training with Donovan I was sitting next to her in bed with her giant book of animal anatomy spread across our laps. Page by page, beast by beast she led me through it, often accompanying the book's information with a story from her adventures.

"I once had a marmoset living with me." She smiled to herself as we came to the page showing the exotic monkey's skeleton and organs. "His name was Zek. I pulled him out of a river on my first trip to Carthak."

"What was he like?"

"He was very solemn. Normally monkeys are very energetic and can't sit still, but after his wife and children were taken from him he changed. But he was still very curious. And he loved to eat." She laughed. "He and Kitten would raid the pantry together and make all sorts of messes. And sometimes she got him to eat spicy peppers and powders and he broke half of the bowls in the kitchen trying to find enough water to put out the fire in his mouth."

I started laughing too when she began pantomiming his frantic movements with her hands, and she just laughed harder. But her laughter was cut short by a sudden attack of body shaking coughs. I immediately closed the book and grabbed the glass of warm honey water from the nightstand, holding it to her lips so she could drink. The honey was supposed to soothe her throat and calm the coughs, and it had every time. Until then.

She spit up the water and began to cough even harder. Doubling over she covered her mouth with her hand, and when she pulled it away it was covered in blood.

I screamed and ran from the room to find my mother. It was late but Adish was sent for the healer while Cook brewed some of the special tea he had left on his last visit. Grandmama didn't cough up any more blood, but they still wouldn't let me back in to see her. I sat outside in the hall with Katla and Somerled, crying into his scruffy neck while his mate licked my hand. With their ears I could hear what the healer said to my parents while he checked my grandmother's pulse as she slept.

"Tis consumption, my lady. Twas not so the last time I was here, but since then it has developed quicker'n I've ever seen before." His voice was grave and full of grave tidings. "I cannot stop it, the rot has progressed too far, beyond my skill, my lady. If it continues at this rate, she'll not live beyond a week."

I could hear my mother weeping, and then there was a thud as she fell to her knees and my father knelt with her. I wanted to run in and throw myself in to their arms, but I was frozen. My mind was numb. I didn't fight when Miwako came with Donovan and he picked me up. Together they took me to my room and put me to bed. Miwako stayed with me that night, lying next to me in bed and stroking my hair as I cried myself to sleep.

My father spoke to my Uncle Jonathan via magic and asked for him to send King Roald's healer, Sir Hiroyuki of Queenscove, right away. But Corus was a week's ride away, even galloping the entire journey and switching horses at post houses. He would be too late.

My lessons and training were forgotten. I lived that last week in my grandmother's room, reading her stories when she was awake and lying next to her when she slept. She spent more and more time sleeping, and she was always coughing. The blood she spat up stained the sheets and my clothes and my mother feared that I would succumb to it as well, but I refused to leave her and I remained as hail and healthy as ever.

There are times that I wish I could have given her some of my strength, some of my youth to help her fight her illness, but in reality death was what she wanted. She yearned to be with her beloved again, and death was the answer to that plea.

Five days after the healer spoke his prediction I sat in my grandmother's bed, holding her hand and reading her the story of Alanna the Lioness and her quest for the Dominion Jewel. Alanna had been one of Grandmama's first friends when she'd arrived in Tortall from Galla and she knew all of her stories by heart. But by that time I was out of stories and she was too far gone to truly listen to anything but the sound of my voice.

My reading was interrupted when she suddenly grabbed my hand. "Melly…"

"Grandmama?" I shoved my book aside and put my hand over hers. "Grandmama?"

"He's calling me, Melly…" She was smiling. "I have to go now…"

"Grandmama!" I cried, tears streaming down my face. I could feel her hand growing cool in mine. "Please don't go Grandmama!"

"Love you…"

And she was gone. I felt her life slip away between my fingers and screamed. Her hand went limp and I threw my arms around her. She was so thin and small. The disease had eaten away at her until she was little more than a skeleton. I lifted her from the bed and hugged her to me, screaming for my mother. Even after Grandpapa the year before death had remained a distant, vague concept that I didn't understand. But now it was right in front of me, staring at me through my grandmother's open eyes.

Miwako was the first to enter the room after hearing my cries. She screamed and rushed to the bed. It was obvious Grandmama was dead, and the first thing Miwako did was pry me away from her body. I fought her wildly, not wanting to leave her. But as she pulled me from the bed Mama and Cook ran in. Seeing me fighting like a wild cat against my nurse and my grandmother lying in a limp heap on the bed, they screamed much the same as Miwako had. But tears didn't stop Cook from helping Miwako to subdue me. They carried me bodily from the room as my mother wept over Grandmama's body.

That night every candle in my room was lit. I made a fire in the hearth and took out the special stone my mother had made for me years ago to help me sleep. Miwako stayed with me, her arms wrapped around me as I shook with sobs. Neither of us slept that night. I couldn't close my eyes, and Miwako refused to sleep while I was still awake. I was certain that if I closed my eyes death would overtake me. It was like the dark, smothering everything that was bright and good. As long as my eyes were open and my candles were burning, I would be safe.

Hiroyuki of Queenscove arrived the next day in time to take part in preparations for my grandmother's funeral. I wanted to blame him for Grandmama's death, because he hadn't arrived in time to save her. He could've traveled faster, tried harder. But in my heart I knew that even if he had come when she was still alive she wouldn't have been saved. And I could see the sorrow in his hazel eyes as he spoke with my parents. I just didn't have it in me to hate him.

The day after Sir Hiroyuki arrived we left our home in Conté for Port Legann. There we could lay Grandmama to rest next to her beloved. I rode behind the wagon carrying her casket on my pony, a gelding I had named Berry. Mother had wanted me to ride in the wagon with her and the other women of our household, but nothing short of manacles and chains could have kept me in that stifling box. I couldn't stand the thought of being out of the sun and wind. Father managed to convince her to let me ride on my own. He understood how depressed I was, and that being locked inside a carriage would have been the worst thing for me then. So I rode behind the hearse wagon, trying not to stare at the black box that held my Grandmama.

It took two days to get to Legann. After watching me stare at Grandmama's casket for the entire first day, Adish and Namir made it their mission to distract me from my misery. They took me ahead of the procession and held short races, on horseback and on foot. I knew what they were doing, but I went along anyway. It helped distract me from my grief.

When it came to foot races I was sorely at a disadvantage. They were both very tall and slender, with amazingly long legs. So I acted as a referee, calling the start with a wave of a handkerchief and standing at the finish point to decide the winner. They made me laugh as they started to wrestle after finishing so close together that I couldn't decide who'd one.

"You're a lousy liar, you motherless dog!" Adish caught his brother in a headlock, trying to force him into admitting defeat.

"She's your mother too, you imbecile!" Namir wriggled free and booted his brother in the rear.

I laughed gleefully and clapped, cheering them both on as they rolled in the grass. My pony and their horses watched in mild amusement. Their wry comments about two grown men acting like spring colts made me laugh even harder. When I couldn't resist anymore I threw myself into the fray, climbing onto Namir's back and covering his eyes with my hands. Adish tackled him and we fell in a heap of tangled limbs. I was in the middle of it, laughing and screaming as I tried to climb free. The twins banded together against me, pinning me in the grass and taking turns tickling me.

That was how my father found us, covered in dirt and grass and laughing so hard we were crying. He didn't interrupt our game, knowing how important it was for me to have some relief from the sadness that had settled over our family. Donovan stopped next to him, putting a hand to his mouth to cover his laughter. Finally the carriage caught up with us and Mama, Miwako and Cook peered out the window. When Adish and Namir finally relented and stopped tickling me, I was pleased to see a small smile on my mother's lips.

Namir walked with me the rest of the way to Legann. He and Adish took turns carrying me on their shoulders. They ran and jumped, making me squeal and cling tightly to them so I wouldn't fall off. Eventually I grew tired and Adish started to carry me piggy-back style. I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder. That's how I went through the city gates, sound asleep under the watchful eye of my faithful bodyguards.

I have never forgotten what they did for me that day. Who knows what would've become of me had I been left to stew in my misery. It had always been like that. Whenever I was upset or sad the twins would go out of their way to make me laugh and smile again. They were like big brothers to me. No matter how old and mature I became, in their eyes I was always their adopted little sister who needed their protection from the world.

Despite my wonderful day with Adish and Namir, the sadness returned the next morning. Miwako helped me dress in a formal gown of black silk. My boyishly short hair was pinned up and covered with a veil, and I had to submit to a subtle form of torture known as court slippers. Miwako had to help me down the stairs so I didn't trip and fall to my untimely death. It was the first dress I had worn all year, and I had forgotten how to walk with a skirt. I kept stepping on the hem and tripping over my petticoats, and the hideous slippers required by court etiquette made my feet scream.

Being confined to a restricting dress only made my already sour mood worse. I squirmed and fidgeted, making everything three times more difficult than it had to be. My mother, normally sweet and patient, was in no mood to put up with my complaints.

"Melisande, if I hear another word out of you today you'll spend the rest of the week in your room with math lessons." Her voice was harsh as she cut me off in the middle of complaining about my slippers. "We're all uncomfortable, but we learn to deal with it. Now stay with Miwako and try to be a girl for once."

I was stunned into silence by the sharp sting of her words. She didn't look at me as she gathered up her fur lined cloak and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with Miwako and the hounds. They, too, were shocked at my mother's outburst. Miwako sat next to me on the cushioned bench and put her arms around me in a tight hug.

"She didn't mean it, jochan. She's just hurting, that's all."

I nodded, but didn't say anything. Whenever Mama was angry or upset with me, she always managed to get in a comment about how boyish and unusual I was. Did it… did it hurt her so much that I wasn't typical noble girl? I looked down at my hands, seeing the calluses from holding weapons and the stubby, ragged fingernails. I counted the small scratches I had acquired from playing outdoors and climbing trees and handling my practice weapons. They were not the soft, dainty hands of proper noble girl. They were skilled at handling weapons and gear, but clumsy with a needle or quill. I was painfully slow with schoolwork, so slow I often thought myself stupid. And whenever Mama tried to teach me to sew I stained the cloth red with my blood, pricking my fingers more than actually stitching the cloth.

I clenched my hands into fists and turned to hide my face in Miwako's kimono. If I were more like a girl… would it make my mama happy? Would she stop crying over Grandmama? In the past week I had seen my mother cry more times than I could count. I would walk past my parents' room and see her crying against my father's shoulder. The deep, wretched sobbing of a broken heart. But outside of their room she was stone, her face white and bloodless, her back held ramrod straight. And when she looked at me, there was no light in her eyes… only emptiness.

As if the world was spitting in my face, the day was beautiful and clear, the sun warming us while a pleasant breeze kept it from getting too hot. It was infuriating. My heart was black and cold with grief while nature was rejoicing all around me. I wanted to scream at the gods for their twisted sense of humor.

As I watched the undertakers lower Grandmama's casket into the freshly dug grave a weight settled over my heart, growing heavier and heavier until I thought I would suffocate. When I could stand it no more I broke free of Miwako's hold and ran from the gathered crowd of mourners, ripping the veil from my hair and kicking off the hated slippers as tears streamed down my face. I ran as fast as I could, holding the restricting skirts high around my knees, trying to outrun my grief. I ran until I thought my lungs would burst, and finally I collapsed against a tall statue overgrown with ivy.

In my short life I had never felt such pain, such emptiness. I felt Grandmama's absence like a gaping hole in my heart. My chest tightened painfully, making it hard to breath. In the end, I gave in and succumbed to the hard, body-racking sobs I had been holding back all day. I curled up in the grass and cried until I was exhausted, hiccupping as I tried to catch my breath.

A deep voice spoke from behind me, making me jump. "Melisande."

I sat up quickly, wincing at the cramp in my legs, and looked up at the owner of that voice. "Who are you?"

"My name is Weiryn, I am your mother's grandfather."

I started at the name, gazing at him with eyes the size of tea saucers. Grandmama had told me of her divine blood, the origin of her powerful wild magic, but it had never truly seemed real to me, until now.

He was tall, but not quite six feet, and heavily muscled. He wore nothing but a deerskin breechclout and his feet were bare. I could see faint olive streaks on his smooth red-brown skin, colors that must have helped him blend into the forest when hunting. He was handsome, with a strong jaw and wide mouth, and his eyes were the same color as the leaves of an oak tree. But by far his most remarkable features was the pair of stag-like antlers rooted in his short brown curls on the top of his head.

His expression was stern as he regarded me. "Why do you weep?"

I rubbed my eyes to clear them of lingering tears. "Grandmama is dead." It hurt just to say it.

He frowned slightly. "She have left the mortal plane, but she is far from gone, child."

"Then where is she?"

"Where she goes is up to her, my dear." Another new voice, this time a woman's. A beautiful woman dressed in a green dress stepped up next to Weiryn, smiling warmly at me.

Part of me wasn't surprised to see her there, it was only logical that the Green Lady would be with her mate at their daughter's funeral. But that didn't keep me from staring up at her in awe. Her golden hair was piled atop her head and pinned up beneath a short green veil. The gown she wore was simple in design, but covered with intricate embroidery in complex designs. I noted all of it absent-mindedly, my gaze fixating almost immediately on her eyes.

They were large and blue, set under slender, graceful brows that were a shade darker than the rest of her hair. They were… the same as my mother's eyes… Grandmama's eyes.

She knelt down in front of me and took my hands in her own and I couldn't help but marvel at the incredible softness of her skin. It was literally like silk. But then again, every thing about the Green Lady was inhumanly perfect. She was a goddess, after all.

Finally I found my voice. "What does she have to choose?"

My great-grandmother squeezed my hands and gave me a gentle smile. "She has a choice now, on where she wishes to go. Because she is half-god, she can now become a minor goddess and join us in the Divine Realms. Or she can join her husband in the Dark God's realm, as all mortals do."

I cast my eyes down, immediately knowing the answer. "She'll follow Grandpapa…"

The Green Lady nodded. "That's what I think, too. She wouldn't want to spend the rest of eternity without him."

Despite my best efforts, I began to cry again, remembering the loneliness in Grandmama's eyes when she spoke of my Grandpapa. Warms arms wrapped around me as my great-grandmother pulled me into a tight hug. I leaned my head on her shoulder, my tears soaking the fine cloth of her green dress. She hummed a wordless tune, slowly rocking me back and forth and running her hand over my tangled hair. Even though I had just met her, I felt an immediate connection to the Green Lady. She radiated warmth and comfort, and in her embrace the piercing grief that had gripped my heart for the past three days slowly began to fade. It wasn't gone, not by far, but the razor sharp edge had dulled, bringing a much needed relief to my heartsick soul.

"Melisande," Weiryn sank into a crouch next to us. "Do you know why we are here?"

I sniffed and turned to look at him from the warmth of my great grandmother's arms. "To say goodbye to Grandmama?"

He shook his head. "We spoke with our daughter not long after she left this world. We came here to see you."

"Me?"

"Daine was worried about you, she asked us to come check up on you." The Green Lady smiled as she stroked a hand over my hair. "But we've been wanting to meet you for a long time."

I clung to her tightly, my hands grasping fistfuls of the fine material of her dress. "Grandmama always told me about how beautiful you were."

I felt the vibrations of her chuckles bubble up from deep in her throat. "And she told us what a lovely little girl you were growing up to be."

"She also told us you are training to be Shang." Weiryn reached out and touched my hair, almost cautiously, as if he were unused to physical contact. "So I've brought you gift."

I was depressed and heart sore, but I was still only a child, and I brightened instantly at the prospect of a present, loosening my hold on my great grandmother so I could turn and face him. "A gift?"

In his left hand was a longbow that hadn't been there a moment before. It was small, made for a child of my size, and it was of the finest make I had ever seen. The wood was a rich red-brown with elegant designs of vines and leaves craved into the smooth surface. He held it out for me to take, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I gave a bow to my daughter when we first met, and again to your mother. Now I give one to you."

I stared at the weapon in awe, wrapping my fingers around the wood with reverence. "It's beautiful."

"It will grow with you, for a time. When you're grown, I will give you a new one, fit for a warrior." Weiryn chuckled a little as he watched me admire the weapon, treating it as other girls would their most precious porcelain doll.

Without thinking I got up and flung my arms around his neck in a tight hug, startling him and making my great grandmother laugh. He seemed at a loss for what to do for a moment, then relaxed and gently patted my back.

"Thank you, grandfather."

"You're very welcome, Melisande." He smiled as I let him go. "Use it well."

As he was handing me a square of oiled cloth that held spare strings I heard footsteps behind us, and I turned to see my mother standing not ten feet away. She smiled slightly as both gods rose to greet her. "Grandma, Grandda."

"Hello, Nicola." The Green Lady strode forward to envelope my mother in a tight hug, but Weiryn didn't move. I saw my veil and shoes in my mother's hands and moved to hide behind my great grandfather, afraid to face my mother's wrath.

Mama and the Green Lady spoke to each other in soft voices, so I couldn't hear what they where saying. Seeing how fixated I was on my mother's face, fear in my eyes, Weiryn knelt and began instructing me on how to string the bow and keep it clean and oiled. He was telling me things I already knew, but I was grateful for the distraction.

Not long after I saw him look over my head to where Mama stood with the Green Lady, and then he nodded. Standing up, the god of the hunt took my hand and led me over to where they stood. I stayed as close to Weiryn as I could, trying to hide myself behind him to avoid my mother's gaze. He held tight to my hand so I couldn't run away when Mama approached us. I stared down at my feet, waiting for the imminent lecture she would give me for running off and mistreating my fancy clothing, but it never came.

Instead, Mama reached down and took my hand in hers, smiling slightly. Weiryn let go of my other hand and took a step back, nodding to both of us. My great grandmother gave Mama a soft kiss on the cheek and then bent to kiss my brow, smiling warmly at the both of us. "It was wonderful to finally meet you, Melisande. Should you ever need us, you need only to speak our names and we will find you."

I smiled back at her despite myself. "Thank you, grandmother."

Weiryn took his mate's hand and bowed. "We will call on you again. Until then, take care of that bow."

I had to squint my eyes when they disappeared into a bright white light. I kept my head down, once again waiting for my mother's lecture, sure it would come now that my great grandparents were gone. But again I was wrong. Mama simply squeezed my hand and led me back to where Papa was waiting for us. She never mentioned my ruined veil or shoes, or the mud on the hem of my dress. It was if she had never been cross with me, and I had never run off.

We never talked about it. Mother never fully accepted the choices I made that led me down the warrior's path. There were times when she would look at me and I could see it in her eyes, the faint regret and disappointment at what I had become. And I was too much of a coward to confront her about it. Each argument we had over my masculine ways only further convinced me that if I pressed the issue it would create a rift between us that could never be closed. Each time I had an excuse to stay silent. It started with grandmama's death, and every year I found a new reason not to confront her. For the sake of peace in our family, I held my tongue. It was something I would always regret.

Hi everyone, I'm back. I didn't fall off the face of the planet. I can't tell you how sorry I am that it took me 3 MONTHS to upload this, but to be honest this has to be one of the hardest things I've every had to write. Not only did I have drama at home, graduation, and getting sick every other week, but I had to kill off two of my favorite characters. I know I'm a dork, but… it hurt. I almost cried at a few points. So if it seems awkward or forced at points, I apologize. I really had to push myself towards the end, because it had been so long I almost forgot where I was going with the whole thing.

But I wasn't completely wasting my time. I have been writing the next few chapters in my notebook in school, and thankfully they were much easier to write. So the next few chapters should come fairly soon. And if they don't, you have my full permission to toss me off a cliff. Thank you, and once again I'm very sorry.