Young Writers Society

"Plantation owner?" Matthew repeated, screwing his face up in concentration. That was like a farm, right? He remembered learning about those in school, but he was pretty sure the Barns didn't count as one.

Matthew turned to Bryde.

"What's the difference between a plantation and a farm?" Matthew asked.

Bryde sighed.

"A plantation is larger," Bryde explained, "and usually focuses on cash crops."

Matthew frowned. "But money doesn't grow on trees-Oh. You mean the type of plants you can sell to get a lot of money, right?"

Bryde nodded.

Matthew turned back to the woman who had let them down.

"Then I'm from a farm, not a plantation," Matthew said. "There's just a lot of animals there. But I don't really own it. I'm too young to. I'm pretty sure Declan owns the Barns. Or maybe Ronan? Ronan's the one who lives there, but Declan does all of the important things like taxes. Ronan just takes care of the animals."

He paused, then looked over at Bryde.

"...So you know what a plantation is," Matthew said, slowly, "but you don't know what chinchillas and Renaissance fairs are?"

Bryde just looked done with everything.

Malvis blinked, filtering all of this information. A streak of her hair turned platinum, but she just pushed it behind her ear. She cleared her throat.

“If I may, a ‘farmer’ might still… own me.” She crossed her arms, watching their reactions carefully.

Matthew gaped.

"But that's illegal-" Matthew started, only to abruptly fall silent when Bryde suddenly grabbed onto his arm.

"Excuse us for a moment," Bryde said, carefully. "I need to talk to my friend-"

"Brother," Matthew corrected.

"-for a minute," Bryde said. Matthew didn't really get why. Bryde's whole thing was not being suspicious right now, but sneaking off to have a private conversation kind of was. Still, Bryde usually knew what to do in situations like this, so Matthew just rolled with it and followed Bryde over to a spot a few feet away so they couldn't be heard as easily.

"Weren't we trying to be not suspicious?" Matthew asked, bewildered.

"To think that we have the same creator," Bryde said, "but only one of us can see why having this conversation in front of her is a problem."

That definitely felt like an insult, but Matthew made comments like that towards Bryde a lot, too, so he didn't really push it. Besides, Bryde only really talked like that when he was worried. "What's wrong?"

"We're in the past," Bryde said, plainly.

Matthew blinked. He glanced back at the woman, confused, then turned back to Bryde.

"So that's why she's wearing those clothes," Matthew realized. He glanced down at his outfit. "We don't really look like we're from this time, right? Wait, is this like Back to the Future? Is that why you pulled me away? Because we're not supposed to say anything that could change the future?"

"I don't know what Back to the Future is," Bryde said, "but yes. Our actions here might influence our time."

"Okay," Matthew said, "but I'm pretty sure Noah was saying time is like a cycle the other day, and that he experienced it all weirdly when he was a ghost. So wouldn't anything we do here already have happened in our future?"

He crossed his arms.

"Also, Dudifer, we really need to have a movie marathon one of these Mondays," Matthew said. "It's kind of sad how little you know about pop culture."

Malvis took another step back. She didn’t like that. She felt her hair curling more, turning from red to blonde. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. They didn’t need to see any sign of panic.

She willed her hair back to red and crossed her arms, watching them like a hawk.

Bryde mused over everything that Matthew had said.

"If time truly is a loop," he said, sounding somewhat reluctant, "then we might not have to worry about affecting the future."

Matthew grinned. "Great! Then let's get back to the woman who got us down and not keep suspiciously talking over here-"

Bryde grabbed Matthew by the arm as he started to head back towards the woman.

"Even if we no longer have to worry about changing the present," Bryde said, "we should still be careful with admitting that we're from the future. That could cause problems of its own."

"I don't know," Matthew said. "I think we already are coming across as kind of weird right now. Just look at what we're wearing."

Matthew shrugged.

"If you want to keep brooding," Matthew said, "you can, but I'm going to go back and talk to the woman who got us down. And find out her name, since we never got that."

With that, Matthew broke free from Bryde's grip and walked back over to her.

"Hi," Matthew said. "Sorry. He's paranoid. I'm Matthew, and he's Bryde. Who are you? I just realized we totally forgot about names."

Malvis looked between the two of them. “Ah. Paranoia. An old friend.” She smiled, offering her left hand to Matthew. “Malvis. Apologies for the… circumstances. You did chose to visit an active war zone.”

Matthew had been dreamed to be more of a rightie than a leftie, so shaking a left hand was a little awkward, but he made it work.

"It wasn't really a choice," Matthew said, pulling his hand away. Though Matthew had no way of knowing Malvis could sense if he was lying or not, his words came across as very much true. Matthew, after all, hadn't planned on ending up here. Neither had Bryde.

A thought suddenly occurred to him.

He turned back to look at Bryde, who seemed to be seriously considering rejoining their little duo right now.

"Bryde!" Matthew shouted. "We're in Ireland."

"I can hear you without you shouting," Bryde said. "And I know where we are."

"But it's Ireland," Matthew said. Bryde still didn't see why that was so exciting. He didn't see why a lot of things were exciting, which was Ronan's fault for dreaming him to be so depressed, but Matthew was working on it with him. "You don't get it because you're new."

Bryde crossed his arms as he rejoined them. "What does that mean?"

"Ireland," Matthew said, with great importance in his voice, "is where our dad and mom came from-"

Matthew paused, screwing his face up in concentration.

"Wait," he said. "It's where Dad came from, and sort of Mom? Since Mom's, you know...like Jordan."

Which was actually Matthew saying that, like his brother Declan's girlfriend Jordan, their mom Aurora Lynch was actually a dreamed copy of another woman.

"Either way," Matthew said, "I've never been to Ireland, and I don't think you have, either. Since you've never left America before, too."

Malvis hummed. None of things the American were saying made much sense in sense of the word. “So, you just happened to take vacation… without knowing your destination?” They sounded awfully surprised to be here. “Or was something more… malicious involved?”

"Less of a vacation and more of a kidnapping, I think," Matthew corrected, but seemed very unperturbed by the words he had just uttered. He could have tried to banish away some of the cheerfulness, right now, but that felt too much work. He shrugged. "It's not like the other three kidnappings I've been through, though. Those usually end with me in tight spaces. This time I'm not locked in a trunk or in a cell."

"Why," Bryde said, giving a look that said he was very much done with this whole conversation, "do I even try to be subtle when I'm with you?"

"Because we balance each other out," Matthew replied without pause. "I'm open all the time, and you're all vague and mysterious. We make a whole normal person if you put us together."

Malvis hummed. “And who did this…” She gestured at the two of them. “Kidnapping and haphazard dumping in the middle of the Irish forest?”

Matthew shrugged.

"I don't really know," he admitted. "The other times were all the same guy, technically, but he's dead now and also good. So it's probably not him."

He crossed his arms, brow furrowed in thought.

"It could be his relative, though," Matthew mused. "But Kavinsky's not an Irish name, right, Bryde?"

Bryde sighed. "It's Bulgarian."

"So maybe not Kavinsky's relatives, then," Matthew corrected.

“So you don’t remember.” She gently clasped her hands together.

Matthew gave a so-so gesture with his hand.

"It happened really quickly," Matthew admitted. "One minute we were in Bryde's place, and the next we were here. So we might not remember, or it might just have happened so fast that we didn't get a chance to memorize any of it to begin with."

Bryde said nothing. He was too busy brooding.

Malvis nodded. “So. Any idea of how you are supposed to get back?”

Matthew glanced over at Bryde. There was a very easy solution, one that Matthew knew would let them go back up home. Bryde could easily dream something up. He had dreamed up things that could go between worlds before. He could probably do it with time, too.

But Bryde hadn't suggested it yet, so Matthew guessed there was some kind of problem. Maybe the whole going through time thing wasn't as easy as going between worlds was. If Noah was here, they probably could have asked him all about it.

But he wasn't, so they'd have to just vibe with themselves for now.

"Nope," Matthew replied. "We're really kind of lost right now."

When Bryde spoke a second later, it looked like having to admit that they needed help really put him down. He wasn't used to relying on others when he had nothing to give in return. "If you could give us any assistance, it would be greatly appreciated."

At least his words felt more charismatic, then. Less like the depressed man Matthew had come to really know and care about, and more like the all-knowing mentor figure Ronan had blindly followed. It was some of the supernatural charisma Ronan kept dreaming all of his dreams up with.

Or maybe not all-knowing. Bryde definitely didn't know what to do right now.