In Thad's aether sight, everything seemed to happen at once. The spell breaking, the stone flying, the massive splash. The colors were everywhere, an overwhelming cacophony of sensation. He shut his eyes, but of course that didn't help. He could still see it.

The colors swirled, taking shapes. Images, one after another: an airship flying overhead; a dragon, its five heads silhouetted by fire and lightning; the sages in the chamber, arguing, shouting at Jack; red blood on black stones. What is this? What's happening? He fought the urge to shove his aether sight away - despite his fear, he felt that he had to see, had to know. There was nothing for it but to ride out that moment of chaos.

Stunned by it, he didn't move when Jack fell - didn't even think to do so - as Lena leaped forward to catch him. Thad just stood there, held by his visions: a giant insect-like creature in a field of sand; a wall of water bearing down on him, sweeping him away; his father's face - No! - and his voice, gruff and angry. "It's the hold for you, boy!"

No!

A sound, a real sound, not from his visions: Shiva screeching in his ear. Thad gasped. He was back by the lake again. Someone bumped his shoulder, and he knew from the aura that it was Moira, rushing forward out of the crowd. By the time Thad opened his eyes again, she was kneeling on the dock beside Lena. "Set him down!" she ordered. "Let me look at him."

Beside them, 'Dine was barking similar instructions to Redden, trying to examine Kane. Redden seemed not to hear her. The bard clutched at his head with one hand, his face pinched in a pained expression.

"What just happened?" Thad asked aloud, not expecting an answer.

"Aether burst," Master Randell said from nearby, rubbing his forehead. "A small one. I'm alright," he added as his wife and son both fussed over him. "I wasn't standing close enough to be hurt."

I meant what happened to me... Thad thought. He was standing farther from the ritual circle than Randell had been. But that aether... he'd seen things in it. He clutched at his head as a wave of dizziness washed through him.

Together, Moira and Lena bent over Jack, hands glowing. "His pulse is weak," Lena said, her voice calm and clinical.

Moira tore Jack's bloodied scarf away from his face, bent her ear close. "He's still breathing," Moira said. Healing spells flew from her hands like startled birds, one after another. Thad could see their designs perfectly, so clearly. He could see her as a younger woman, learning those spells, casting them for the first time. What is happening?

Shiva was tugging his ear, her voice a distressed whine. Thad felt Lord Orin's hand on his shoulder, and for a moment the land around him shimmered in a heat haze, the lake becoming a sea of sand. "Young master Shipman? Are you well? You look pale."

Thad shook his head. "I don't-"

Shouting from the lake. He looked out across the sand - water again now - to where Lukahn and the others had gone in. Their boats had flipped when the stone fell, Thad vaguely recalled. The water would be frigid at this time of year. A handful of apprentices, rowing fast, had taken another of the boats out to fetch the four men, had already fished two of them out of the water. Other apprentices were waiting on shore, building a fire. Around them, the crowd began to disperse, people already taking the path west, back to town. "Huh?" Thad said. "Where is everyone going?"

"To the Chamber," Orin said. "For the meeting and the vote."

"The meeting?" Thad said. "But Jack-!"

Orin shook his head. "The vote does not stop just because one of the sages becomes indisposed. They would get nothing done if they rescheduled their meetings every time someone performed a magical miracle."

"What?" Thad said. He couldn't think. Gods, his head ached. But he could see - could remember - Jack arguing with the sages. "No! Jack has to be there!"

Orin glanced at the dock and then back at Thad. He shook his head. "I believe that unlikely to happen."

"No!" Thad said. "He's supposed to be there! He's-"

He trailed off. What was he saying? Why was he arguing like this? It was clear that Jack wasn't going anywhere, not right now. But he'd seen it: the sages in the chamber, shouting at Jack. That was today. It hadn't happened yet, but it had: he'd seen it. It was this meeting, today.

"I am sure Jack will attend if he is able," Orin said. "If not, there will be other meetings. You should sit, young master Shipman. You are a mage. That aether burst will have affected you as well."

No, Thad thought, pushing Orin's hand away.

"We need healing here," Orin said, but the white mages were too busy to treat Thad. 'Dine healed Kane, her spells slow and deliberate, as Moira and Lena worked at Jack. Wrede, surprisingly, healed Redden. Redden was only a red mage, but he'd been touching the ritual circle. Redden growled, trying to push Wrede off, telling him to heal Kane instead, but Wrede muttered something about "foolishness" and persisted in his work.

The remaining crowd grew thinner. The apprentices in the rescue boat reached the shore, helping the soaked sages disembark. Graham shivered violently as they led him toward the fire. Myron grumbled, but he and Lukahn marched right past the blaze, taking the path back to town. Phin, robes steaming, the traces of a fire spell fading from his aura, hurried after them.

Shiva chirped at him, still riding his shoulder, clinging to his ear. She didn't speak, but he understood her: Are you just going to stand there?

"We have to go to the Chamber," Thad said.

Orin shook his head. "Young mas-"

"We have to go!" Thad insisted.

Master Randell nodded. "The boy's right. Wrede?"

Wrede growled in frustration, but when Redden pushed him away again, he stood, nodding at his father.

As the two men moved past him, Thad tugged Orin's sleeve. Orin cocked his head, his expression skeptical, but then he nodded. "Very well. To the Chamber, then."

"We have to hurry," Thad said, though he didn't know why.

"So we shall," Orin said. He strode from the dock with no sign of his sometime-limp, motioning Thad to follow.

It wasn't unlike a lightning strike, Lena thought. She'd seen the effects of one before. The child, a shepherd no older than Thad, had been out in the fields when the storm rose so suddenly he'd been unable to find shelter. The family had given the body to White Hall so that Lena and the other apprentices could learn from it, so that the death might mean something.

Death. Lena recognized the panic in the back of her mind and forced it down again. Jack wasn't dead. Despite the injuries, he wasn't dead. Focus, Lena. Her face felt hot, but she kept her head down and worked through it.

She viewed the world through her soul sight. Jack's aura blazed strongly with the remnants of the power he'd used. She could clearly see the damage to its edges. Yes, it was like the lightning strike. The shepherd child had been burned where the force of electric power had both entered and left his body. Jack had been burned as well, but in his soul.

She focused her spells on those burns, one after another. Here, the place where he'd grounded his power in the ritual circle, the ragged injury where the burst had broken his hold. Here, the place where he'd tried to focus the power outward, away from the crowd, away from Kane. Here… Too many. There were too many. She could feel the heat of them. Or was it just that Jack was too cold? The panic tried to rise again. No. Focus.

"Slow down," Moira said beside her. "You'll do him no good if you pass out."

She murmured a wordless reply. She didn't feel like passing out. She felt flushed, feverish, focused. She cast the next spell, and the next. She was no longer thinking. Thinking brought the panic, and she couldn't panic now. Only form the spells and cast them. One after another after another. She reached for the power for another spell and-

Fire. Gods, it burned. Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't- Choking-

But then she lost the spell, and her throat opened on a pained gasp. "What-?" She couldn't get the question out. Her voice wouldn't work.

She heard footsteps behind her as Moira's husband and stepson arrived. Lena hadn't seen her send them away, but they'd come with medical supplies. Behind them, more men came bearing stretchers. "Good," said Moira. "Load him up. We need to get him indoors."

"To the clinic?" Steffan asked. "Home's closer. I could clear the table in a trice."

Moira nodded. "Yes. Good, yes. Do that."

"What-" Lena began again, but got no further than that before Moira reached down and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up by her robe.

"We need to warm him. Come. If your spells are failing you, you can at least tend the fire," Moira said, then turned to bark commands at the men.

Lena stood dumbly, trying not to sway on her feet. She watched as they lifted Jack, Kane, and a grousing Redden, and she followed after them in a daze. She didn't know what to think. Her spells hadn't failed her… as far as she could tell, somehow, she hadn't used her own power at all…

Thad suspected it was his spells rather than their pace that caught them up to the villagers on the path so quickly. His head throbbed with every step, but still they moved at an easy walk that nevertheless ate up the ground. Thad listened to the villagers growing louder as they journeyed back to town, back to the Chamber. They had a lot to talk about.

"'Twas a trick," someone said. "Has to be."

"No, no," said someone else. "That was the sage stone right enough. Seen it eight times over the years. And that Jack gave a good view, didn't he?"

"Don't see why they couldn't just vote there by the lake," one of the younger apprentices said, a hint of a whine in his voice. "All the sages were there anyway."

"Ceremony is ceremony," said Marcus. His master, Myron, marched ahead of him, soaked to the bone and likely cranky about it, locked in conversation with Master Lukahn, but the two sages hushed when they saw Thad, glaring at him until he left them behind, out of earshot once again.

The crowd slowed as they reached the Circle Chamber, bottle-necked at the door. Some pushed to be first inside, but they needn't have bothered, for the meeting wouldn't start until all the sages had arrived. Orin steered Thad to the back of the room, near Randell's chair, and he had a moment to think before Randell himself arrived, followed by Lukahn and Phin, arguing loudly, and Myron not far behind. Graham, the final sage, shuffled in wrapped in a thick blanket. The last of the stragglers drifted into the Chamber behind him and took their places along the room's perimeter.

Lukahn, still wet, with his limp hair and sour expression, looked a bit like the kappa from the stories. He shouted, "It doesn't matter! He didn't succeed!"

"The hell he didn't!" Phin said, his white robes still steaming slightly from his drying spell. "I was there! I saw it with my own eyes!"

Others, both among the sages and in the crowd, chorused their agreement.

"Bah!" Lukahn said. "Foolishness!" He crossed the room and flopped into his seat.

"Silas," Randell said, and there was a gentleness to his tone, but a tiredness as well. "That seat doesn't belong to you anymore."

Lukahn crossed his arms, slouching petulantly in the chair, but he didn't move. "The seat is mine until someone replaces me!" Lukahn said. "Jack didn't pass the trial!"

Randell sighed. "Silas, we all saw-"

"No one's debating that he raised the stone," Myron said, holding up his hands in condescension, his smile oily and false. "The problem is that he had help to do it. Our rules clearly state-"

"What help?" Miss Dahlia called from her usual place beside her husband's chair. "Kane's no mage!"

"No," said Graham. "But the layman obviously did something. Surely you noticed that the spell didn't work without him."

Fiona scoffed. "The layman did something? Do you hear yourself?"

Thad heard them, remembering what happened next as it happened. He had heard it all before. That split-second vision had encompassed all of this. Stop time. Jack needs to get here. Stop time. His head ached as he reached for the aether. Time flowed on.

Someone said, "I certainly didn't see him casting any spells. Did you?"

"Nope, not me," said someone else.

"What I saw," Fiona said, "was that Jack's friend somehow served as a living focus object for his spell."

The voices ran together, some Thad recognized, others he didn't, the twelve sages batting their argument around the room as though they were tossing a ball:

"Surely that's illegal?"

"There's no rule against it!"

"Because it's unheard of!"

"Then maybe we should be praising Jack for this new discovery?"

It was going wrong. The sages were arguing as he'd seen, but Jack wasn't there. And he had been, hadn't he? Thad had seen... Well, now he didn't know what he had seen. The vision seemed to be changing after the fact. He'd been certain Jack had been there, but now he remembered it differently, and he remembered himself remembering it differently. Pain shot through his skull. He clutched at his head, disturbing Shiva on his shoulder, and the eidolon resettled herself with a perturbed cheep. This was wrong. Jack had to be here.

"But focus objects are allowed!" Phin was saying. "I used one in my own trial!"

"Yeah," Fiona said smugly. "I made it myself. For my own trial two years before!"

"But to use a living being?" Myron argued.

"Again, no rule against it."

"Because it's not supposed to be possible!"

And the arguing went on. Thad could remember it. It hadn't happened yet, but he remembered how it would go: Jack's detractors would win out, his trial dismissed as a failure, and the sages would vote on the expedition again, only this time… Well, Konrad's support had been tenuous at best, based on his faith in Ramuh's return. Ramuh had yet to make an appearance. No one would be surprised when he changed his vote now.

Stop time, Thad thought. It was all going wrong. Stop time. Stop them. He whimpered as he caught the edge of the aether, a squirming, swirling eddy of it. He could feel the sweat beading on his face as he forced that aether into the shape he wanted.

Time slowed, not only for himself, but for the Chamber. The whole Chamber. He'd done this before, speeding through the nights in the copse of trees beside the lake, hastening away the dark, but he'd never done it on this scale, for this many people. It hurt, like trying to lift an object twice his size, ten times his size. The aether, the time woven into it, wriggled like a cat in a sack, and he clung to it, his head throbbing. Wait, he begged it. Just wait. He had to give Jack time.

The aether within the Chamber slowed, slowed... and then it stopped. Thad held it, sweat pouring freely from his forehead. Shiva rested her little hands against his neck, a cooling sensation to combat the fever he felt setting in. Seconds passed for him while hours melted away outside. The sages argued, but Thad couldn't make out their words anymore over the pounding in his head.

And then there was another pounding, at the door this time, and the grand boom of it echoed through the Chamber loud enough that Thad lost his grip on the aether in his surprise.

On one side, Shiva squeaked and clung to him. On the other, Orin grabbed Thad's empty shoulder and squeezed. "Ah," the monk said. "I believe we have company."

The doors slammed open in a blur, the normal flow of time outside making them seem impossibly fast as they met Thad's rapidly fading spell within.

The door opened onto a square of perfect darkness: the sun had set, and the light of the wall sconces that ringed the Chamber did nothing to pierce the black gloom outside. Thad gasped as an inhuman figure stepped forward from the dark, all size and bulk and an impossible shape, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust and see it clearly: not one figure, but two, Kane hauling Jack beside him.

Jack moved stiffly, his face pale above his blood-stained scarf, eyes pinched, lined by bloody tear tracks. Kane, though... with Jack hunched like that, Kane seemed taller than he was; Jack looked as though he couldn't stand on his own. But Kane stood tall, imposing, like a warrior from an old story. He strode to the middle of the room, all but dragging Jack, his steps sure and even, then he stopped in the chamber's center.

"Did we miss anything?" he said, cocksure and grinning wickedly.

Thad heard an astonished whisper from nearby. He couldn't make it out precisely, but he caught the gist of it. The crutches, he realized. Kane's crutches were gone. Somehow, his leg had been completely healed.

Lukahn was the only one who hadn't seemed to notice that miracle. He snarled as he pointed a finger at Kane, or perhaps at Jack, "You insolent whelp! How dare you come into this room as if-"

"Silas!" Master Randell snapped. "You shame yourself."

Lukahn fell silent. Thad was satisfied to see that he did look somewhat embarrassed at his outburst.

Randell sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily. To Kane he said, "We have not yet cast our votes, if that's what you mean, young man."

"Good," Jack said, voice cracking. He visibly struggled to stand a little straighter. "I would hate to have missed my first one."

Lukahn stood, pointing again, shaking with rage, but his voice was quieter now, more controlled. "We still haven't decided if you get a vote in these proceedings after that farce of a trial!"

"So?" Kane said, shrugging a little under Jack's weight. "Vote on that then. You're good at voting, aren't you?" His tone implied that the gathered sages weren't good for much else.

"Gods, yes!" said Fiona, who seemed to feel likewise. "Let's get this over with already!"

Agreement chorused through the Chamber, both from the sages and the crowd.

"Very well," Randell said. "It seems we can skip the usual discussions. I say Jack passed the trial. Aye. Fiona?"

"He passed. Aye."

"Graham?"

"Nay."

The vote circled the room, each sage rising when their name was called, delivering their vote without preamble and immediately resuming their seat. Konrad voted with tears in his eyes, a look of sheer reverence on his face. Each sage voted exactly as they had at the last meeting, where the vote for the expedition had been split down the middle. Each of them, that is, until the vote reached Wrede Randell, the last sage.

The room grew quiet as Wrede stood, waiting for him to cast his vote. Instead, the white mage crossed the room and knelt before Kane. "Let me see that ankle," he said.

"Wrede, this is hardly the time," his father said.

"I disagree," Wrede said, holding his hand out for Kane's foot.

Kane shrugged, settling Jack on his own feet so that he might stand on one leg, holding his booted foot out for Wrede to examine.

Wrede's eyes glowed with aether - he was really a black mage, after all - as he inspected the limb. Then he released it and stood. "The aether burst caused this somehow?" he asked.

Jack nodded. "So Moira tells me."

"Very well." Wrede returned to his chair. Turning to face the crowd, he drew a deep breath before he spoke. "You all know I don't agree with the Mysidian expedition. But I'll be damned if I deny what Jack did at the lake today. That spell... That was worthy of a sage."

The audience gasped, but Thad had to stifle a cheer. He knew Wrede couldn't be against them! He knew it! He turned to Orin, saw the thin smile spreading over that wrinkled face, and knew Orin had known it too.

But Jack's detractors shouted at Wrede's proclamation.

"Think of what you're saying!" Myron said. "If you vote him in, the expedition will go on! Your vote against it will mean nothing!"

"I know," Wrede said quietly, looking at the floor. The shouting stopped as the angry men settled themselves, listening to Wrede's next words. "But I'm starting to think maybe it meant nothing before."

Master Randell cleared his throat. "Am I correct in saying you vote in favor of Jack's passing his trial?"

Wrede nodded. "You are."

"No!"

Randell flinched at Lukahn's shout, but he didn't acknowledge it. "Then I count seven to five, in favor."

"No!" Lukahn shouted again. "This is madness! You can't-"

"It's done, Silas," Randell said.

Lukahn sprang to his feet spryly, Thad thought, for such an old man. He faced Randell in his chair, but pointed behind him at Jack. "He's a monster!"

"He's a sage," Randell said, meeting Lukahn's eyes steadily. A chorus of "ayes" echoed him.

Lukahn whirled around, gaze circling the room as though trying to determine who had spoken. His eyes caught Thad's briefly, and Thad tried to put all of his defiance, all of his contempt for the old prophet into his return stare. Lukahn finally looked away. "Fools!" he shouted. "All of you, fools!" He spat on the chamber floor, turned on his heel, and stalked out.

No one spoke. No one moved. Kane and Jack stood at the center of the room, both staring toward the door where Lukahn had left. It seemed long minutes before Master Randell said, "Jack," calling their attention forward again. Randell motioned toward Lukahn's empty chair. "Take your place."

It was plain to see, as Jack crossed the room, how tired he was, how stiff his steps. Thad didn't know half of what Jack had done by the lake, but he could guess how hard it had been. He had never seen that much aether used in a spell before. He knew from his books that it shouldn't have been possible. Jack should have died. It was no surprise to Thad that Jack moved like every step pained him - the only surprise was that he was still moving at all.

Jack didn't collapse into the chair, only sat. Perhaps he seemed a little tired as he did it, a man who'd been standing too long, but he sat up straight in his seat, red-rimmed eyes determined as he looked toward Master Randell.

Randell sighed as though a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. "Jack, how do you vote on the matter of the Mysidian expedition?"

"Aye," Jack said.

Randell nodded. "And does anyone else care to change their vote?" He looked at his son as he said it.

Wrede didn't meet his father's eyes. Instead, he looked at Jack. "I do," he said. "If voting against you won't stop your foolish errand, I'd rather do all I can to help you succeed in it. I vote in favor of the expedition, provided you take me with you."

"Wrede..." Jack said, his posture wavering as though Wrede's words had taken something out of him, or perhaps he simply could no longer pretend strength.

Wrede shook his head. "I know now that you're willing to die for what you believe. I'm not willing to let you."

"The vote stands at eight in favor, four against," Master Randell said. "Does anyone else wish to reconsider?"

Again, no one spoke.

"Very well. Then the Circle shall support this expedition. May the gods speed your way."

And with that, the meeting of the High Circle came to a close.

That night, Jack dreamed, but he knew it for a dream this time, not a vision, not a memory. Everything blended together, disjointed and out of context. In the dream, he chased a thief - it might have been Thad - through the streets of Cornelia. The thief had taken something from him, something precious, but he couldn't remember what it was. Cornelia became the White Quarter of Melmond, only the Rot had spread there. Jack felt sick with it, but no one else seemed to notice. Mages walked the streets in their black or white robes, their eyes glowing as the buildings crumbled into decay around them.

Jack forced himself to go on - he had to recover what was stolen - but every step pained him. The Rot, the sight of Melmond in ruin - No. We saved it. Didn't we? This is a dream. This couldn't have been Melmond. And no sooner had he thought it than he was somewhere else. He soon recognized the strange market he had dreamed of before. He wasn't a child this time, but seemed to be as he was now, tall and dressed to cover his scars. He looked at the market goods on display, but everything seemed an indistinct blur, and still the Rot plagued him.

Again he found the woman selling stone carvings and watched as she funneled a spell between her cupped hands, not earth this time, but water, and when she offered the finished carving to him, it was an exquisite figure of Lena in her hooded robe. "Moonstone," the woman said, winking at him. "It brings good dreams. Do you dream, boy?"

This is a dream.

"Who are you?" he asked, but the woman didn't answer. At that moment, a roar resounded through the air. The woman, the market, all vanished.

He was in a dark wood now, and the air smelled of smoke. There was only one light in the distance between the trees. He heard cruel laughter, and an inhuman voice saying, "You're weak, witch! What makes you think you can defeat me?"

"Mother!" Jack shouted. He tried to run toward that light, but it seemed impossibly far away. No, he tried to tell himself. I can't go to her. If I hadn't run to her, if she hadn't tried to save me... But his body moved on its own, carrying him closer and closer to the fight he couldn't seem to avoid. And then the air grew hotter, hotter still, until the air itself was on fire and every step he took carried him deeper into the flame. He could feel his flesh burning.

A dream. It's a dream. Wake up. Wake up.

He woke in the dark with a groan. His aether sight was still up, and he was sure that only contributed to the pain. He dismissed it immediately, though he assessed his surroundings as it faded. The aether was calm in a way he only ever saw at night, so he surmised that it was late. Night now. Had it only been a few hours then? And he recognized the clinic. He remembered Kane leading him back there in the growing gloom of evening - somehow, Thad had managed to stop time in the whole Chamber for more than half a day. Long enough for Jack to get on his feet again, if barely, long enough to get to the meeting.

Kane was nearby. Jack could see his aura - sleeping in one of the beds, perhaps? He recognized Lena's aura too but the aether sight faded before he could analyze further. He hadn't been able to tell from her aura if she was awake.

He tried to look at her, but he couldn't see anything. He had a moment's panic, thinking of aether burn, of blindness. He tried to lift his hand to his face, but the movement hurt so much that he whimpered.

"Shh," Lena said. He felt the bed shift beneath him as she came to his side, felt her hand on his cheek, the warmth of a Cure. "You're alright."

"My eyes," he said. "I can't open them."

"I put a poultice over them," she said. "You were weeping blood. Do you remember? I thought they could use something to soothe the irritation."

He felt her hands move, felt a light pressure relieve as she removed the cloth he hadn't realized was there. She reached across him toward some nearby piece of furniture, then Jack felt the cool, wet cloth she wiped against his eyelids contrasted with the warmth of another Cure.

"There now," she said. "Open your eyes."

He blinked slowly, squinting against the too-bright light of a single candle across the room on the potions counter. Lena looked down at him, her face in shadow, and he tried to focus on her, but even blinking hurt. He closed his eyes again, stifling another groan. No wonder he'd dreamed of pain.

Lena sighed, wiping his forehead with the cool cloth. "You did a number on yourself, didn't you?"

"Mm," he said in reply. Gods, but he didn't even want to nod. He hurt everywhere. "Kane?"

"Asleep," she said. "It's late."

"How is he?"

She snorted. "Kane's fine. Better than you, actually. You shielded him from the aether burst?"

"Tried to," Jack said.

"Hmm." That sounded disapproving, but she continued to wipe his brow.

After some time, she took the cloth away. Her hand returned to his cheek, not casting any spells this time, just resting there. He could feel the bed shifting as she leaned down, could feel her breath. He opened his eyes again, and she hovered just over him, her green eyes fierce in the dark. "What you did was dangerous."

"Yes."

"You knew you could die."

"Yes."

"Earlier, that kiss..."

The memory flashed through his mind like oil in a pan: her lips, her warmth, her aura as he drew from her. He winced, tried to turn his gaze away, but he was too weak, and her hand on his cheek remained firm.

"You said you wanted to kiss me 'in case.' You meant 'in case you didn't make it.' That was a goodbye kiss, wasn't it?"

"I..." I drew from you. He couldn't say it. All he said was, "Yes."

Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. She leaned in closer, her nose just touching his, and he felt a tear fall on his face. "Well," she said, "in that case... This... This is 'hello.'" She bent closer, closing the scant distance between them, and planted her lips against his. Her hand on his cheek was warm, her lips warm. He hurt too much to move, but his lips answered hers. He closed his eyes, breathing her in, but he didn't draw on her this time - his soul had apparently had its fill of aether for now.

He sighed when she pulled back, when she brushed her thumb lightly over his lips. He looked up at her. I drew from you. I'm not what you think I am. He wanted to tell her, but he still couldn't say it.

Instead, he smiled - though even that hurt - and he said, "Hello," his voice cracking on the word.

She smiled then. She covered her face with the back of her hand as she laughed, half-sobbed. "Hello," she said again, running her other hand slowly through his hair.

She lowered herself down once more, not to kiss him, but to lay beside him, her head on his shoulder, her back firmly pressed against his side. He was too sore to move, even to wrap his arm around her, but she was there, and that was enough. He closed his eyes again, feeling the weight of her nestled against him. Listening to her breathing grow long and even, he worked to match his breathing to hers, and he fell into a relaxed and dreamless sleep.

Author's Note: 2/12/23 - Hi. So, um, it's been a year? Yeah. And boy, has it been a year. Lots of ups and downs. First, I got promoted. More money, more hours, more responsibility. It was a great career move for me - from children's librarian to library manager! It's been challenging and satisfying and a whole lot of fun.

And that would have been enough, except that the same week I started my new job, my house flooded. For about six months, I had to deal with insurance, reconstruction, and replacing all my furniture. It was a lot. Not a lot of writing during that time, just a lot of everything else.

But I kept plugging along. I'm finally starting to feel like I have my feet under me, like I'm not a complete impostor at work (though still highly sus!). All the home construction is done. Writing is happening again. It's slower than it was - I've definitely fallen out of the daily writing habit I had going for me - but I'm still here. Drop a line if you're still here too.