Young Writers Society

Evaline nodded slowly, but then decided to change the subject.

"Who else did Oliver introduce you to?" she asked.

"Well, several people I already knew. Like Tula, and Hendrik and Mel - who both decided to play dumb, and then Alistair and Arima. They were nice, actually," he said. "And then there was Zameer, who was actually one of the first people I met before the council meeting. And then, well, Malkiel."

James had namedropped quite a few names, and Evaline filed away the fact that he had conversed with them all and remembered all of their names.

"I'm glad you think Arima is nice," she said, then let out a small smile. "She's actually my cousin."

James nodded slowly. "Oh. Hm. Does she have time powers too?"

"Well, she's my second cousin," she said as she shifted a bit on his bed to get more comfortable. "We share the same great-grandmother." She paused. "Who has a memory power. So, no, not time."

"She has a memory power, then," James concluded.

"She does. And it's less limiting than mine."

"How does it work?" he asked.

Evaline paused to purse her lips in thought for a moment. It could be out of curiosity, but James seemed especially interested to know about this one.

"The foundation is the same," she said. "You think upon a memory, and she can peer into it. If you're curious, I'm sure she'd be happy to show you a demo, if you ever see her again. She's not on the council, so I'm not sure you will."

"Ah," James said. "What about Alistair? What's his power?"

It was strange that James was casually namedropping people who were at one point significant in her life. She didn't remember mentioning the people in her life when she was in Nye, except maybe for Mel. It almost didn't feel fair now that he seemed to have all these connections to people who knew her, and she didn't have anyone she could ask about him. She wondered if this was how he felt when she was in Nye.

"Fire, basically," she said. "But like all other powers, it doesn't come from nothing. He takes the movement around him and can make flames, but it's not too strong." She paused for a moment. "Did you two talk much?"

"Not really," James said. There was a pause before he added. "We sat in silence for a bit. It was nice."

Evaline let out a small huff of air through her nose as she barely shook her head, looking out at the dark space in front of them.

"That sounds right," she said, then sighed. "You know, I've always thought you two were similar. Not the same, but... similar."

"Because we like to sit in silence?" James asked, looking over at her with a slight smirk.

"Among a few reasons," she replied with a faint smile. "I don't know. Just an old thought I had. But it doesn't surprise me that your experience with him was nice because it was minimal."

James nodded slowly.

"He minds his business," he said. "Which I appreciate."

"Zameer also minds his business," Evaline added. "He's the youngest in the council and I think he's trying to prove his worth, even though he doesn't need to."

"He seems like a good guy," James said.

"Yeah. I don't get to interact with him much, but the others seem to like him." She paused for a moment, then let out another big sigh. "But I know Malkiel can come across as not a 'good guy' - so I'm sorry if you had a bad run-in with him."

"I don't think he's a bad guy," James said. "I think he's completely justified in his concerns and his suspicions, and if I were in his shoes, I would likely be the same. The only reason it's causing me trouble is because I'm the one under his scrutiny."

Evaline nodded slowly. "He's paranoid," she said softly, then turned to face him, brow raised. "What concerns and suspicions did he have?"

James turned to face her in return, but didn't quite look at her face.

"He claimed that because of his air powers, he was able to detect changes in my breathing patterns when I was 'lying,'" he said. "He called me a liar, and tried to get me to tell him what I was hiding. He said he knew I was lying about where I was from, and he asked me why you were protecting me."

Evaline suppressed a groan as she started to wearily rub her face. Malkiel was always so exhausting, even when they avoided each other.

"He's just trying to scare you," she said. "It's true he could do that, but only if you're very anxious. Which you were, at the meeting. It's easy to lie with a straight face around him." She then let her hand go and turned back towards him as a thought just occured to her. "You know that you can just blow some air at your body the next time he traps you, right? He's really not as powerful as he claims to be."

"I have no grid for how powerful people here can be," James said steadily. "I'd rather run the risk of overestimating someone's powers than underestimating them, but that's good to know."

"Everyone's powers are contained," she explained. "For reference, the mages in Nye are much more powerful in comparison. And by powerful, I mean that they can deal more physical damage. I doubt you'd run into anyone here who could take you down by literal sheer power."

"So - Malkiel, for example. An air mage in Nye could conceivably suffocate you if they wanted to and knew how. Could he do that? Could he collapse someone's lungs?"

Evaline had to stifle a laugh. "He wishes he could do that," she said. "The worst he could do is probably make you feel a bit out of breath."

"But he can also make it impossible for someone to move, which - though it couldn't kill them - could make it easy for someone else to swoop in and finish the job," James countered.

"And a gust of wind would take that all away and untrap you," she countered back. "Like I said, just blow on your arm if he's holding it with air. Everyone has a weakness, and his weakness is - ironically - more air."

James hummed.

"Noted."

Evaline stopped to think for a moment. "I think if your false power was real, then your weakness would be not knowing what was real or not," she said. "If you can call that a weakness. But that would be my guess."

"Would it be very sportsmanlike for me to ask about everyone else's powers and weaknesses?" James asked. "I don't mean to sound paranoid, but I know I probably am. I'd just like to... know. Just in case."

Evaline smiled in amusement as she laughed through her nose. "Sure," she said. "I understand. Who do you want to know about first?"

James hummed.

"Tula. What's her power?"

"She has a transmitting power," she said. "People can see through her eyes. It's fairly low-risk, but I'd say that the weakness would be that it requires close connection, and it's not a perfect process."

"By close connection, do you mean physical proximity or relationally?" James asked.

"Not physically," she answered. "It requires trust. It's like you're in her mind. It's the same concept as me being able to see other people's memories if they trust me. It wouldn't work on strangers you've never talked to before."

"Makes sense," James murmured. "So... Zetya, was it?"

"...Katya?" Evaline corrected.

"I've met a lot of people today," James mumbled. "Yes. Her."

"Don't worry about it," she said with a small smile. "But Katya's able to send and receive radio waves without a radio. She's basically our communicator. Pretty handy, except for when she accidentally sends a sleep talk message."

"Huh. Interesting," James commented.

"You have no idea what a radio is, do you."

"I have... maybe the basest concept of what one might be," he said defensively. "But no. Not really."

Evaline let out a breathy laugh. "I'll show you mine the next time I visit. It's basically - in simple man's terms - a talking box that enables you to talk to other people in different areas."

"So it's a form of long-distance communication?" James clarified.

"That's one way to put it, yes."

"So, the poor-man's equivalent might be sending a carrier bird, but instead of it taking hours or even days, it's immediate?"

Evaline couldn't help but smile. It was oddly endearing how archaic and old-fashioned James's mind worked sometimes.

"I'd say so," she said. "Although, I don't know of any trained carrier birds around, so it wouldn't be the poor-man's equivalent anymore."

"Just the ancient man's equivalent," James muttered.

"That's right. That's you," she teased.

"So - the powers. What about Hendrik?" James asked.

"He has limited pheromone control over himself," she said. "Basically, he can change how he smells to animals and other predators. And, I guess, to other people, if he wanted to smell good." She paused for a moment. "Hendrik is actually the one who gave me Ellie. He's pretty good with animals."

"That... huh," James said.

"Like I said," she said slowly. "Looks can be deceiving."

"No I was just thinking of-- oh, never mind," he said, shaking his head.

Evaline narrowed her eyes at him. "What?" she prodded.

"Does that give him a keen sense of smell then, too?" he asked.

She paused to think for a moment. "You know, I never asked. I'm not sure. Why?"

"He sniffed me," he said.

Evaline still stared at him with her eyes narrowed. "He... sniffed you," she repeated. "Like a dog?"

"It was audibly noticeable, if that's what you mean," he said.

"I think I'm asking more of why he sniffed you like a dog."

"Evaline, please let me have some dignity left by the end of today," James said lowly.

Evaline laughed and shook her head. "So, he sniffed you and slapped your bottom. I think he's the dog in this scenario."

James turned to look at her, scrunching his face up in visible discomfort. Though he didn't say anything, he seemed to be asking her: "Really? Why?"

She decided to take this win silently.

"Well, in terms of weakness, I would say he's not able to really affect a person," she said instead. "Just animals who have less of a complex brain than we do." She paused for a second. "Though, now that I think about it, that's probably why he's muscular. So he can compensate for that."

James turned his face away and seemed to not want to comment on that.

"Okay. So. Mel. I know she makes illusions," he said. "Is that all?"

Evaline nodded. "That's all. She has to focus on the illusion, so her weakness would be to - well - distract her. It's really not that difficult."

"And Zameer?"

"Zameer gets asked a thousand times a day to charge batteries because he's able to take..." She trailed off, deciding to dumb it down a bit more and make it more simple for him to understand. "Basically, he controls electricity. It powers the gadgets you see around, like my bike. But he has to get that charge from somewhere, and I believe he relies on thunderstorms, but I could be wrong. So, he's all spent out if there hasn't been a storm in a while."

"Is his power only useful for powering different devices? Or does it have other applications?" James asked.

"He could probably give someone a shock and frizz up their hair," Evaline said. "If that's useful."

"Probably only for pranks," James said. "So, not really."

"I'm sure he'd be ec-static to hear you propose him pranking others," Evaline said with a small goofy smile at the pun she thought of on the spot.

James looked over at her with a small smile and scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Hilarious," he said.

"Thanks," she said, then widened her smile a little. "It's a... shocker."

It was a really bad pun and joke, but she thought it'd help James smile a bit more, even though it was silly.

James's smile widened just a little.

"It seems your humor is electrifying," he said straight-faced.

Evaline tightly pressed her lips together to repress the smile from turning to a grin.

"I should start charging you for my jokes," she said in the same tone.

"You're just on a roll, aren't you?" James said, also suppressing a grin.

"No," she said innocently. "I'm on a storm." She repressed her own groan at the back of her throat.

"Okay, that one was bad," James said with a laugh.

"What can I say?" she said with a shrug, but smiled when he laughed. It seemed genuine, even if it was small. "I like to keep my audience guessing."

"So many surprises," James said as he leaned back on the bed, propping himself up with his arms behind his back. He let out another sigh as his smile faded and then looked back at her.

"So... I guess that leaves Oliver, then," James said.

Evaline couldn't help but notice that he brought up his name last. She wondered if that was intentional.

"You can probably already guess that he has time powers too," she said.

"I'd assumed, yes," he said.

"His works differently than mine, though," she said, although she wasn't exactly sure how much James remembered her limitations. "Actually, his power isn't far off from the one we made up for you. He can go back in time too, but his strength is the ability to see different timelines."

James nodded.

"Does he go back in time the same way you do?"

"Well... how much do you remember of my abilities?" she asked, deciding to use his answer as a reference point to build up from.

"Well, I remember that you can go back in time up to ten minutes from wherever you are in the present. Effectively, undoing however many minutes or seconds you go back as if it never happened in the present timeline. And I remember back then, you said after three consecutive uses of the power, you would start to feel side effects," he answered.

Evaline nodded slowly. Some things had changed by now, but still - James remembered the gist of it.

"Oliver's power works a little differently," she said. "I come from a family that maximizes time travel. He comes from a family that maximizes seeing undone timelines. From what he's told me, he can only really go back in time whenever he's in danger. I don't know how long, but it's probably not more than a few minutes, if that."

James nodded. "So... the timelines he sees. Are they ones that have already happened or are they possible ones that may happen or haven't happened yet?"

"I don't think it's possible to see timelines that haven't happened yet," she said. "But he's able to see past the timeline that was undone. Say, if I undone the last minute just now, he'd be able to hone in on that and see what happened days after that minute happened, even though it never did happen, even to the time traveler. So, in a way, I suppose that's like looking into the future. A future that never happened."

"That sounds like it might get difficult to sift through," he commented.

"It is," she agreed. "That's why he only focuses on a select few people and the timelines they've undone."

"Would he have seen me flicking grass at you?" James asked.

Evaline sighed. "He could, yes," she said. "I don't know why he'd look into that, though, since it was fairly uneventful and he knew I was taking you to Terra."

"Can he see into any timeline at will? Or does it just... happen?" James asked.

"To be honest, I'm not so sure," she said. "He hasn't told me explicit details, nor does he seem to want to share. But he's told me a long time ago that he thought he was seeing ghosts. So from that comment, I'm thinking it's like a daydream that presents itself upon him. I don't know."

James nodded slowly.

"That sounds more like a burden than it is useful," he said softly.

Evaline stared at him for a moment, mildly entertained to hear his opinion with a perspective that was different from hers and other people like her.

"It's funny you say that," she said. "It's one of the more coveted abilities. All other time travelers only know when someone else went back, but he'd be able to see what they went through. It's free information without any of the effects."

"So, essentially, he's able to gather information. Like an informant," he said. "But only on other time travelers and whoever was involved with the things they undid."

"That's right," Evaline simply.

She wondered if he was putting it together yet without her explicitly laying it out for him.

"So hypothetically, nothing you ever undo is truly private," he said.

"That would also be correct," she said. "It's rather annoying."

"I can see how that could make him a capable spy," James said.

Evaline stared at him for a second, sitting up straighter. "A spy?" she said. "For who?"

"Whomever he needed to," James said. "At the very least, he could collect information for whomever would want it. If he were the kind of person who could be persuaded to profit from it. Though I can see him being more personally motivated to gather information, from what little I know about him."

"Gather information," she echoed. "About me."

"I'm not saying he is," James said. "I was just... hypothesizing about how his power might be used."

A sad smile tugged her lips as she sighed again. "I know. But you should also know that this is nothing new for me. His family runs Sector 1 - the capital, I suppose, you can say. And the only reason they run it is because they're able to control the rest of the government. As in, other time travelers. To keep them in check. This is all common knowledge for me. I'm fully aware that he's been mining information about me for years."

"So that's why people without time powers aren't allowed in government. It's about control," he concluded.

"That... might be one, yes," she said. "But it's also about change and peace. Or at least, that was the brainwashed version fed to me when I was young. In my opinion, everyone in the government wants control, and it's an endless, timeless fight."

"That's every government," James said with what sounded like a faint, almost bitter laugh.

"You're not wrong," Evaline said with a sigh, and then looked back at him to offer a small smile. "I guess even though we're from worlds apart, we can share similar opinions about how power-hungry our governments are."

"Show me a government free of selfish ambition, and maybe I'll change my mind," he said.

"I think you're more of an optimist than I am," she said as she stretched her back from sitting up straight too long. "I don't think that exists."

James scoffed.

"Neither do I," he said. "That's why I said that."

She hummed in thought. "I do remember you telling me at some point that you'd like to make sweeping changes to the government if you could. So at least an idealized version of it exists in your head."

"Yeah," James said dismissively. "Maybe somewhere, forgotten in the deep recesses of my mind."

"What, you lost your optimism in the past five years?" she teased.

"Among many other things," James said. "Yes."

It was supposed to be a simple thought experiment and lighthearted conversation, but Evaline couldn't help but wonder what the serious implications were behind his words.

"...Like your cooking job," she said instead with a small smirk, hoping to steer it back to a more playful mood.

James glanced at her, barely smiling.

"Yes," he said. "And my cooking job."

Evaline met his eyes for a moment, and she could tell that he was tired. Exhausted, probably, because of the long day. She was too.

"But you haven't lost your insomnia," she mused. "I take it you're still not tired?"

"That's not really how it works," he said slowly.

"I know," she said, offering a tired smile. "Doesn't hurt to ask. I'll stay up as long as I can to keep you company, though."

"I don't want you to exhaust yourself on my account," he said, sitting up a little straighter.

"I'll be fine. Besides, I could sleep in while you get up and do you farm chores. I know you still have to do them."

James hummed.

"Okay," he said, sounding too tired to argue.

"But if you're too tired to talk, we don't need to," she added. "Sometimes it's just nice to sit in the company of others for a bit."

James glanced over at her, and it looked like he was attempting to smile, but his eyes still looked exhausted.

"I appreciate your friendship, Evaline," he said softly.

Evaline wasn't expecting that response. It seemed to come out of the blue.

"Oh," she said as she shifted on the bed again, but then glanced at the couch. "Well. I do too. Appreciate your friendship, I mean."

James's smile seemed to grow a little bit, and he hummed a small laugh in the back of his throat.

"Why don't I heat up some water and we could both drink some of that tea?" she offered after a small silence passed. "And then we could read until we're tired. Or at least, until I'm tired, I suppose."

James nodded.

"That sounds fine. While you're making the tea, I think I'm going to change. So just... don't look," he said as he got to his feet.

Evaline nodded. "Sure. Of course. I'll give you privacy."

She got up on her feet and started to make her way to the kitchen, but first lit up some more candles so she could see better. That, and so they could later read without squinting in the dark. After lighting up several that James already had out, so sifted through his shelf to pick out a pot so she could fill it up with water.

"I hope you don't mind that I changed into your clothes," she said as she pulled a pot out. "I didn't bring a change of clothes with me. I'll return it, of course."

"I don't mind at all," she heard from behind her, along with what sounded like the shuffing of boxes. She recalled that he put his clothes in boxes under his bed. "I'm not worried about it."

Evaline found the pitcher of water - thankfully already full - and poured the water in the pot. "I think I fit in more wearing overalls," she mused. "Now it looks like I know how to farm."

"Remarkably, outfits can do wonders for convincing people that you belong," James commented.

"I take it that people dressed similarly to you at the party then? Not a suit and tie."

"I was probably still the nicest dressed person there, but by no means overdressed," he answered.

Evaline lit the stove and then placed the pot on top, looking down at the water and waiting for it to boil with the root. James would probably finish dressing before it would start to bubble.

"It's a good thing you changed then," she said. "Maybe you can wear the suit again when you want to impress some farmers around here."

She heard a faint laugh.

"Oh, sure," James said. "That'll be really impressive."

"Maybe you can just wear it one day and not tell anyone," she teased. "Imagine: Josiah driving by and seeing you working the fields with a suit. He'd probably pass that sight along to others."

"Evaline. I would never ruin that suit by working the fields in it. For one, it would be a waste of resources. Two, it'd be uncomfortable. Three, it's just not necessary."

Still averting her eyes, Evaline walked along the wall and bent down at the bookshelf as James talked. She held a candle while running her finger along the spines of the books, trying to figure out which one she pulled out.

"You're right," she said. "But consider: your clothes are all dirty, and you just got rained on. Would you casually wear the suit around the house by yourself, then?"

"Well if it came to that, then I--"

Suddenly Evaline let out a high-pitched screech as she stumbled back and dropped the candle and the book she just pulled out, because there was a giant, fluffy mouth hiding in the space of the book. She let out a nervous laugh as she started to crawl away backwards, but then panicked and picked up the candle she had dropped.

To do that, she quickly turned around the reached for the base to not touch the hot wax, and in the midst of the confusion and panic, she happened to look up at and noticed James just barely finishing pulling up a pair of pants. He was turned around without a shirt, and although it was dark and he immediately whirled around to see what the commotion was about, it was hard to miss seeing the three, giant scars on his back.

"I -- sorry," she said as she looked away sheepishly and steadied to candle on the floor. "There's, um, a giant moth on your bookshelf."

"I'll get it," he said.

Evaline flicked her eyes up and down at him as she noticed that he quickly grabbed a shirt off the bed and slipped it on, but she averted her gaze before he could fully notice.

"Sorry. And thanks," she said again as she got up on her feet and then took a few steps back to make room between her and the atrocious moth.

She watched as James walked over the bookshelf, easily spotting the giant moth.

He leaned down a little, gingerly reaching for it.

"Okay there, big guy. We're taking you outside," he said softly as he grabbed the moth with his bare hands, pinching its fluffy body.

Evaline couldn't help but scrunch her face in disgust as she watched him pick it up to take outside, but even though it was a horrid mouth, she still found it a bit endearing that James treated it like a living, breathing, normal, harmless creature. And it was. Even if it was a bug. And a moth.

He walked to the door and opened it. His arm extended out of view and when he turned back around and closed the door, the moth was gone.

"All better," he said. "You're okay? You didn't burn yourself from dropping the candle, did you?"

Evaline sighed a breath of relief as she glanced around the room and decided to set the candle on top of the side table next to the couch.

"I'm okay," she said. "I didn't burn myself. Thanks for asking, though - and for taking care of it." She let out a small laugh. "I usually don't mind bugs, but... Moths? Not a fan."

"Well, if ever I'm around, I don't mind dealing with them for you," he said with a small nod and slight smile. "Hopefully there aren't any more in here, though."

Evaline shivered at the thought before plopping down on the couch, scooting to one side in case James wanted to join her.

"I hope not," she said, glaring down at the offending book she was holding and then turning it around in her hands to make sure it was bug-free. "But... thanks. I'll try not to screech in the future."

James scoffed and plopped down on the other side of the couch.

"I would tell you that you can screech all you want," James said. "Because I know you won't abuse that privilege."

Evaline shot him a funny look and then shook her head and half-rolled her eyes. "Good guess," she said. "I'll only let you hear it once a month. So, check in with me next month."

"Listen," James said in mock defense. "I've known people who would deliberately scream just to try and get under my skin. I have to add that caveat."

Evaline grimaced. "That sounds awful," she said. "Please tell me they weren't one of your friends you travelled with."

"Well... I wouldn't put it past some of them," he said with a small shrug.

Evaline looked down at the hard cover of he book, drawing little circles with her finger on it. Even though she proposed to sit in silence and read, she didn't mind talking to James. It was nice, actually, to sit and talk to a friend with similar interests.

"I've told you about some of my friends," she said, even though she was using the word 'friend' in an exaggerated sense. "I'd be interested to hear about yours... if you don't mind sharing."

James took in a deep breath and leaned back into the couch, slouching.

"For a few months, I traveled with a small group of outlaws," he said. "There were five of us total, at first. We all came from different backgrounds, and frankly, most of us didn't divulge the details for a while. The circumstances surrounding our meeting were... unusual. We became allies out of necessity, rather than mutual interest. What I'm trying to say is, we were all captured and held at the same location. It was a temporary solution so that the group of bounty hunters could get us all together and cash in on our collective bounty."

He paused, looking over at her. She was listening attentively, especially since this was the first time he had shared a personal story in detail.

So, he was captured by at least one bounty hunter at some point. But she decided to focus less on that and more on the part that prompted this question: the friends he made.

"We ended up banding together to escape," James continued. "Actually--" he paused, and his face lit up for just a moment. "You know, one of them was a time mage. Her name was Adina."

Evaline brows shot up in surprise. "Adina, huh?" she mused. "Wow. Another time mage. What was she like?"

"She was very young when I knew her. I think she was sixteen, and she'd only just left her hometown on the run from mage hunters. It looked like she hadn't gotten far before she'd been caught for a bounty. But she was very kind and gentle. Thoughtful. I can't imagine what would've happened if she'd ended up anywhere else, without people to help her... but it was fortunate we met, for her sake," he said.

"I'm glad that you and the others found her and helped her out to guide her. It must not be easy to be out on the run at a young age like that." She paused. "Where is she now, do you know?"

"Last I heard, she found other mages that she was able to take shelter with," he said.

For some reason, this felt oddly familiar. And then it dawned on her that Evaline had told the mage camp folks that she was a time mage, and she had the opportunity to stay there if she so wanted. It was a bit ironic that there was a different time mage who also ran into James and then joined a different mage camp.

Evaline was curious and wanted to ask him about how real time mages different from what she was able to do, but she shelfed the thought for now since she wanted to hear more about the friends he made.

"I'm glad she's safe," she said with a small smile. "What about the others? What are their names?"

"Ah. Yes," James said. "Let me think... well, I'll start with Ari. His full name is Ardeshir, but we all called him Ari for short. He was only nineteen, but he was probably almost seven feet tall. Absolutely massive, but his heart was just as big. He wasn't the brightest, but he was quite the character. Very sincere. He'd been wanted for about a year, if I remember correctly. He said he was wanted for aiding and abetting criminals, but when he shared the details, it turned out he was really just trying to help people... he had good intentions. He was a good man."

It was nice to hear James passionately talk about a friend for a change.

"Ari sounds like an interesting character," Evaline thought out loud. "He may look intimidating from his height and build, but it sounds like he had a heart of gold and wouldn't hurt anyone."

"He did have a heart of gold, but I wouldn't go so far as to say he wouldn't hurt anyone," James said, looking off into the room with a distant, wistful expression. "He fiercely protected those he cared about. And we were among them."

"He sounds like a loyal friend," she said with a small smile. "Where is he now?"

"I believe he joined one of the others -- I should get to him next, I suppose. There was another man with us by the name of Brett. If I had to describe him in a few words... I would say he was clever, mischievous, but never in a way that was wicked or hurtful. He just liked to get a rise out of you a little, to have a little fun and lighten the mood. He had more of a checkered past, and though he often carried himself in a carefree manner, he was trying to be a better person..."

James trailed off for a moment, but Evaline didn't interrupt as he looked off in thought, like he was remembering something.

"We were in the isles when he ran into his brother by chance. His brother was the captain of a ship, and eventually, Brett took his brother's offer to join his crew, and Ari joined him. Because both Brett and Ari were from the Isles and Matt had some influence and resources, he was able to help them clear their names through legal means," James said. "He's living happily with Matt, Matt's wife, and his niece and nephew, I believe."

Evaline waited patiently until there was a natural pause in his thoughts before talking about. It sounded like James was quite close to Ari and Brett, and she couldn't help but wonder --

"Was the invitation extended out to you as well to join the crew?" she asked out of curiosity.

James glanced over at her.

"No," he said. "In my case, that would mean they would be harboring a foreign fugitive. Though I'm not wanted in the Isles, the Moonlight Kingdom has treaties with the Isles that would make it -- it just wasn't meant to be."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said gently. "Did you at least... could you have seen them again, at least? When they were back on land?"

"I saw Brett once, a year after our parting," James said. "It was by chance. There's no way for me to know when they're out at sea and when and where they come back in... and it would be too risky to try to meet them again. For all of our sakes. Their situation with the justice system in the isles is fragile. Being seen with me could jeopardize their freedom."

Evaline couldn't help but feel sorry for James. He made friends, but he couldn't see them again due to their circumstances. It was like fate was teasing him.

"There was another," James said before Evaline could think of a response. "Her name was Rosaleen. We didn't get along, at first, but I think it's because we were the most alike. She had this vibrant, deep purple hair that was unmistakably her own, and a tongue like a viper. She had no problems speaking her mind, but... over time we grew to trust each other. She was wanted because she'd been unjustly framed for the murder of her parents, and the last time I saw her... she was still on a journey of revenge."

He looked out into the room with a sober expression.

"I doubt she made it very far," he said quietly. "The odds were not in her favor."

"Did you try to talk her out of it?" Evaline asked.

James smiled sadly. "There was no talking Rosaleen out of anything," he said.

"She sounds stubborn, but has a very strong code of justice," she said slowly. "Someone who speaks out for those without a voice. And someone who would do the right thing, no matter the cost. Is that right?"

James was still staring off into the room, but with each passing word, his eyes seemed to reveal a deeper sadness.

"I'd like to think that's what she became," James said, looking down into his lap.

Evaline watched him carefully, trying to empathize, but also trying to understand.

"Do you think you'll meet her again?" she asked, still with the gentle voice.

"I don't think she's still alive," he said quietly. "I would be more than surprised if she was."

"But that's just speculation," Evaline countered. "You yourself have had many close-encounters you barely managed to escape. She might have had the same luck."

James looked down into his lap.

"I would rather not debate Rosaleen's state of being right now," he said softly.

"I'm sorry," Evaline said without hesitation. "I didn't -- we can talk about something else. Like the experiences you had with her when you travelled together. What was your fondest memory of her?"

James smiled again, but it was still a sad smile.

"Fondest memory," he said with a little laugh. "That's a hard one."

"Pick the first one that pops in your mind," Evaline suggested.

"It's hard to explain without the context," James said. "There's-- oh wait. No."

A big smile spread across his face.

"Oh, I'm afraid it won't even be funny to you," he said, but the smile didn't fade.

"That's okay," she said with her own small smile. "I'd like to hear it anyways."

"So..." James started, shaking his head for a moment and stifling a laugh. "Ari. He was a sweetheart, and always trying to make people feel better, but sometimes he just had the best and worst comedic timing. But he was being entirely genuine, so often it would result in Brett and I, or others, having to silently share the humor of it without laughing because we didn't want to discourage Ari."

He looked to Evaline, making eye contact with her as if trying to make sure she understood. Still, it seemed like that wasn't the fully story, so she waited for him to elaborate.

"I can't remember the specifics of it, but there was one moment when it was just Brett, Ari, and I. I think Brett appeared to be in a less-than-cheerful mood, and Ari - out of nowhere - pulled out a piece of chocolate from his boot and offered it to Brett. Ari offered it so innocently that we didn't even bother to ask how long it had been in his boot, or where he got it, or why he would put it in his shoe. With his feet. So Brett took it and thanked him and said he'd eat it later, but he didn't, and instead held onto it."

"So that happened, and then later we all were together around a fire, and Rosaleen had been expressing some grievances - at this point, I don't know what she was complaining about, but Brett offered the chocolate to Rosaleen, after telling Ari that Rosaleen needed it more than he did. So there Ari was, thinking this was a completely innocent gift, while Rosaleen is completely unaware of where it came from, and both Brett and I are trying desperately not to lose it as Rosaleen plops it in her mouth and eats it, oblivious. And we weren't even going to tell her, and then Ari pulled out another piece from his boot, and if you could've seen the look of realization dawn on Rosaleen's face--"

James smiled and shook his head, stifling a laugh.

"It was priceless."

Evaline couldn't help but break into a smile with each passing sentence, and by the end of the story, she was smiling wide, watching and listening to James with her full attention. She let out a breathy laugh when he revealed that Rosaleen had eaten the foot-tainted chocolate bar.

"And then?" she pressed, still with the smile. "What did she say?"

"Oh, she was upset," James said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I can't remember what she said. Probably something cruel to bite back, but at this point it doesn't matter. It became a running joke between us all."

Evaline chuckled, imagining it all play out in her head.

"Now, the real question is whether Ari continued to give more chocolate from his boot," she said. "Did he?"

"I think he ran out of chocolate," James said. "But he kept stickers bars in his boot - I think I told you about those. He handed those out on occasion."

"You did," she said with a nod, then briefly paused. "Your friends -- were they involved in the drug operation you told me about?"

James looked at her, raising his eyebrows and staring at her for a moment before he broke into a smile and started laughing.

"No, no, no," he said through laughter. "You can get stickers bars without buying drugs."

"Ah," Evaline said with a shy smile. "Silly me."

She figured that was the case. But now she knew that his friends and the drug operation scene were two entirely separate stories... if the latter was even a story to begin with.

"I still haven't told you about Kaia," James said, pointing at her briefly. "She came later. I don't need to get into how, but she used to be a bounty hunter. She's a formidable enemy, so it was a pleasant surprise to us all when she decided she wanted to leave that life behind. She makes a much better friend and ally."

"An ex-bounty hunter and a high-bounty man forming an unlikely friendship," Evaline mused. "Seems like a plotline straight from a book."

"Yeah, well, it's my life, so," James said with a shrug. "She ended up going with Adina in the end. She helped Adina find the mages and I think she stuck with them, though she's not a mage herself."

"Were the mages okay with her staying with them?" she asked.

"That, I don't know," James said. "I never did hear from them... we don't have radios in Nye."

"How unfortunate," Evaline said. "Did you at least send a carrier pigeon?"

James laughed. "You can't send a carrier bird to someone if you don't know exactly where that person is."

"Did you also have the option to follow them?" she asked. "Or was it also difficult, considering your circumstances?"

"I chose not to go with them," James said simply. "It was the safest option for all of us at the time."

Evaline nodded, pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts.

"I think the fact that you recognize that says a lot of your character," she said. "It must not have been easy to let them go. It must have been difficult, especially since you were close to them. But I think it was a courageous sacrifice."

James looked over at her, drawing his eyebrows together slightly. He met her eyes only for a second before he looked away.

"I... suppose so," he said.

Evaline wanted to elaborate some more or maybe ask another question, but nothing came to mind, and the silence started to feel too long. It was just then that she heard the fire in the stove crackle, and she had remembered that she had boiled water to make tea.

"I'll make us two cups of that tea," she said as she got up on the couch and headed to the kitchen.

"But... thank you. For sharing," she said as she grabbed two mugs from the shelf. "I wouldn't mind hearing more of your stories... if you'd like to share."

James watched her as she got up, his eyes following her as she traveled across the room.

"Not all of them are as lighthearted as the one about Ari's boot chocolate," James said in almost a teasing manner, but it seemed like he intended to give a sincerely sober disqualifier.

"I know," Evaline said as she began to pour the water in the mugs. "If you only had lighthearted memories and experiences, then you wouldn't have a reference point to appreciate those moments as much."

"That's true," James said quietly.

Evaline finished pouring the water and then carefully walked back with two full mugs, offering one to James who gingerly took it out of her hands. She sat back next to him, holding the mug with two hands as the steam rose up to her face.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to," she said in the silence that followed. "But I'm happy to hear anything you do want to share. I don't mind listening."

James glanced over at her, then looked down into the mug he was holding in one hand.

"Well..." he started quietly. "There was one time that we accidentally camped in a griffin's nest."

"A griffin," Evaline said slowly, trying to scour her mind to the old fantasy stories and fables she read as a kid. "Half horse, half man?"

James looked over at her with a confused smile.

"A what? No, a griffin is - well, it's - I would describe it as part lion, part hawk. They're a tad larger than a lion though, and their wingspan is proportional to their size. Very large, fierce creatures," he said.

Evaline hummed as she pictured it in her head. "Sounds menacing," she said in a faraway voice.

"They can be," James said. "They have the head and wings of a hawk, and the body of a lion. Their back legs have talons."

Evaline nodded, the image coming to view in her head. It wasn't like any creature she had seen before, but she was at least able to imagine it.

"So, you camped in their nest," she said. "How was that?"

"They're very territorial creatures. They must've been out hunting the night we stumbled into their nests - which, they occasionally make on the forest floor out of leaves and underbrush - but when we woke up, we saw a mother griffin returning. We..." he let out a laugh. "Ari tried to wrestle it, and ended up getting his arm pierced by its talons. He recovered, by the way, but-- Adina and Rosaleen ran off with the horses while Brett and I did our best to distract it. Brett ended up climbing on its back and covering its eyes so it couldn't see, and I was able to get in a few hits with--" he faltered for a moment, glancing at her and then quickly looking away. "--my sword, but then Rosaleen came back, riding upon a horse, carrying a large stick that she'd managed to set ablaze. Fortunately, griffins are pretty dependably scared of fire. So it fled, and we were able to get clear of the area before more griffins came."

Evaline sat at the edge of her seat, listening attentively and taking in every word.

"Ari's arm," she said. "Was he hurt badly? Were you and the others okay by the end of it?"

"He was a little off-kilter from the blood loss, but we were able to get control of it and stop for a moment and wait until the world wasn't spinning for him anymore. I still can't believe he thought wrestling a griffin would be a good idea," James said with a little laugh. "But yes, we were okay."

Evaline nodded. "What about the griffin?" she asked. "Not that you... I know that that you were all defending yourselves, but it seemed that the griffin was too. Was it okay?"

James pursed his lips together and sighed.

"I think so," he said. "I can't really say for sure, since we left, but I wasn't trying to kill it."

She nodded again and then offered a small smile. "I'm glad you and your friends made it out okay. It's definitely an adventure worth remembering, especially the wrestling bit."

James nodded.

"I don't suppose you have any interesting stories of running into different beasts?" he asked.

"'Interesting' is a strong word," she said through a small huff of air. "Before I got into the safe zone, I've run into a few beasts. Nothing like a griffin, though - and I've managed to escape in one piece okay." She gestured to herself. "As you can see."

"I'm glad you have," James said with a look of understanding. "I'm assuming they weren't as benign as bumblebirds."

"Unfortunately no," she said with a small smile. "They're mostly all aggresive. But - you don't have to worry about that here. They've all been driven out."

"How long did that take?" he asked curiously. "To drive them out?"

Evaline thought for a moment, focusing on the empty space in front of her as the smell of the tea wafted toward her face.

"I'm not sure," she said. "History hasn't been well-documented out here. It's more about survival than creating societies. The safe zone isn't as big as the rest of the ungoverned lands, but I'd imagine it was easier to clear out because less creatures lived on the coast."

James hummed, nodding in thought as he lifted his mug to his mouth, blowing on it.

There was a lot Evaline was skimming over, but for the most part, she didn't really have anything interesting to share. Not in the past five years. She didn't think any of it was really worth talking about.

"So, I'm curious about Adina's magic," she said. "How does time magic work in Nye?"

"Well, I can't speak for all time mages, and I only have a limited understanding of Adina's abilities," James said. "But I think, functionally, her powers share similarities to yours. She's able to reverse things in time, but I've also seen her freeze moments in time. But as opposed to it affecting a whole timeline, it's like she's able to control time in one isolated area while the rest of time moves around it...? I don't know if that makes any sense. She herself had a very rudimentary understanding of her own powers when we met, and only started practicing when I encouraged her to."

"That's interesting," Evaline mused. "It seems that time mages in Nye and time travelers here have that in common: we both don't fully understand what we can do. Did she know of anyone else with similar magic so that she could learn?"

"Unfortunately, no," James said. "At least, not when I knew her. It's possible she met other mages, and one of them could've been another time mage. But that's all speculation on my part."

"So, you were able to know when she used her time magic," Evaline continued. "Did the others know too, or was it just you?"

"I think we all knew," James said. "It wasn't like she tried to hide it. There was a little uneasiness in the beginning, I think, just because of -- well, magic. Mages. Not so much on my part, but it was easily cleared away."

It really was fascinating to hear of the differences between time magic in Nye and time powers on Earth. Evaline had always assumed that a time mage in Nye could be virtually undetected since no one would know when they jumped back, but it appeared that there were different variants of time magic that she was unfamiliar with. It must have been difficult for all mages to be constantly on the run, or never show their magic. But the latter wasn't always possible.

"Have you met other mages in your travels?" she asked. "Besides Adina, of course."

James pursed his lips to the side and looked back down into his mug.

"Yes," he said carefully.

Evaline waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn't she asked another question.

"What were they like?" she asked.

"There was only one other person, really," James said, bringing both hands around his mug. "She was... young, too."

He stared down into his steaming mug, looking like he was getting lost in thought.

"What was her name?" Evaline asked gently when he didn't elaborate anymore.

"Amy," he said softly.

Evaline picked up that he wasn't spilling as much information before. James seemed to be holding back information on purpose - not because he wanted to hide it, but perhaps because it didn't come as easy to him.

"What was Amy like?" she asked, still with the gentle tone.

"She had healing magic," he said quietly. "She was... bright. Talkative. Silly, sometimes. Childlike, despite many hardships."

"A good friend?" Evaline added.

"Better than I ever deserved," he said softly, still staring down his mug.

"You deserve to have valuable and meaningful friendships, James," Evaline said, still giving him her undivided attention. "I'm glad Amy was a deserving friend."

James nodded slowly, still not looking up at her.

"She died," he said, his voice hollow.

Evaline didn't mean for the silence to follow to feel so long, but she didn't want to ruin the moment with insincere words. She had to stop and think for a moment before speaking again.

"I'm sorry that happened," she said softly. "To her, and to you. It's not easy... And you're allowed to grieve for however long you need. And I know I don't know her personally, but I think she would be honored to have called you a friend, and that she has a special place in your memories."

James was quiet for a while, still looking down into his mug with a distant expression. Evaline wanted to give him some space to think and to breathe, so she let the silence sit for a bit as she brought the mug to her lips and took a small sip of the tea.

"She was only nineteen," he said quietly, breaking the silence.

"That's not fair," she said just as softly. "It's not fair sometimes how young people are when they pass."

James took in a slow, deep breath.

"I need to think of something else," he whispered, pinching his eyes shut.

Evaline glanced at James, understanding that he needed a distraction. She lingered her gaze at him for a moment before looking back down at her mug, her hands getting warmed by its heat.

"My favorite Day of Peace party was when I was fifteen," she said out of the blue. "It was hosted in my hometown, and I got to invite my friends. I think it was the first and only time they had ever participated in a government-wide party, and it was just as extravagant as the one you went to, if not even more. It was one of the more memorable days from my childhood, and probably the only Day of Peace party I actually enjoyed."

"Who-who were your friends?" James asked, looking like he was still trying to shake off whatever memory was clinging to him.

Evaline glanced at him again, her hands clinging to the mug a little more tightly.

"There were a lot of names," she said instead. "But the ones you'd recognize include Mel, Alistair, and Arima."

James nodded. "Good, I like them," he said. "I mean-- tell me about what you did at the party?"

Evaline smiled a little at James's earlier comment, but it turned to a wistful longing when she thought upon the memory.

"Well. There was a lot of food, and Mel and..." She stopped, reframing her sentence. "They ate a lot. It was almost embarrassing to me. And there was a very long line for the photographer, which -- I realize you don't know now -- is basically a picture taken in a moment of time. But there was only one copy, and they fought over it."

She looked back over at James, noticing how he was watching her like he was trying to hold on to her every word.

"Of course, there was plenty of socializing and dancing too, but I mostly stayed with my friends. At the end of the day, I left early. Ran away with a friend, really." She bit back a smile. "My parents were upset, but it was worth it."

James smiled a little. It looked like maybe it was forced, but it was hard to tell.

"Who'd you run away with?" he asked.

Evaline took this moment to take another sip of her tea. It was long, drawn-out, and deliberate.

"Not anyone you'd know," she said with a small smile, trying not to sound snippy. "Just an old friend."

James nodded slowly.

"It sounds like you had a good time," he said softly. He was backing off from asking questions. She could tell.

"I did," she said, trying to fill the ensuing silence as best as she could. "It's not as memorable as the boot chocolate story, but it's not a day I'd easily forget."

"Thank you," he said, looking up at her. He seemed sincere, and earnest. "For telling me."

"Of course," Evaline said before she could bring the mug up to her lips again to drink. "Thank you for... listening."

She knew that, in comparison, she had shared very little compared to James. But it was still nice to have someone to listen to her reminisce about the old days of her life. She couldn't imagine retelling the same story to someone else in her inner circle.

"Any time," James said with a small smile.

Another small silence passed as she took another sip.

"It seems you've had quite an eventful past five years," she thought out loud. "From taking up random jobs, to being out on the sea, meeting old friends... And here I thought you've only been trekking through the woods and desert the entire time."

"Well, trekking through the woods was part of all of that," he said.

"And the desert," she added. "And the sea."

"I've been to a lot of places, yes," James answered.

"And seen a lot of scenic areas?"

"I suppose so," James said with a slight smirk. "If you're into that sort of thing."

Evaline shrugged nonchalantly. "Not really. I prefer boring roads with nothing worth seeing."

"Sounds riveting," James said straight-facedly.

She turned to stare at him for a moment, but then broke into a small breathy laugh, shaking her head.

"Did you ever find yourself returning back to a place?" she asked. "Not out of necessity, but because you wanted to?"

James looked off to the side in thought.

"Not really," he said. "I don't think it's ever crossed my mind to travel for leisure."

"That's okay," Evaline said gently. "It's hard with your circumstance. Most of your choices were out of necessity and out of your control."

"I mean, I'm not-- It's--" James stuttered a little, looking confused, before landing on a solid: "Yes?"

"You don't sound very confident," Evaline commented, observing him.

"I think choices made out of necessity are still in my control," James said.

"Maybe some," she said. "But sometimes you're pushed in situations you have no control over."

James tilted his head to the side and shrugged a little.

"Well, yes, but... that's just my life," he said.

"I guess so," she said softly, looking back down at her drink.

There were only a few sips left, and although she wasn't drowsy, she did feel a bit more relaxed.

Evaline thought back to what she said about being pushed into situations without control. That's just my life, James said. She wondered if there really was no control over him being on Earth, or whether there was some sort of catalyst. A reason.

"Now that it's happened to both of us," she said slowly. "Do you think there's an underlying reason we went to each other's worlds?"

James sighed and leaned back into the couch, finally taking a long sip of his tea.

"I don't know," he said softly. "I've thought about it a lot, but I don't know how to make sense of it."

"Maybe it wouldn't make sense until you return," she said in thought.

James looked over at her with his eyebrows drawn together and his eyes wide. He almost looked hurt, but he looked away again quickly.

"Did it make sense for you?"

"I think so," Evaline said softly, then downed the rest of the tea, letting the warm water fill her chest. She still held the cup in her hands when finished. "I think, in a way, you inadvertently saved my life."

James went quiet for a moment, before he whispered his next question.

"But was that me? Or was it just the note that brought you to Nye?"

"It... I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know where to draw the line. All I'm saying is, I think the whole experience changed the course of my life. And maybe that was why it happened."

"It changed... for the better?" he asked, still in a hushed tone.

Evaline sighed and then turned towards him so that she didn't need to turn her head to glance at him. It was better he knew the story instead of just guessing.

"I woke up the same person as I was when I left Nye," she said. "And that was enough to motivate me to run away and escape when everything was coming to an end. I don't think - no, I know I wouldn't have had the courage and capability to do that if I didn't come to Nye. So, as I said - you and the experience inadvertently saved my life. And maybe that was why it happened. I don't know."

James was quiet for another few seconds, and as agonizing as it was, the tea seemed to give her the patience needed to wait.

"I'm glad that something good came of it for you," he said. "I'm - I'm glad you're still here, and that you survived." He looked up at her, briefly meeting her eyes.

"Your life is invaluable," he said. "If your time in Nye made a way for you, then that is more than enough reason for it to have happened."

Evaline dropped her gaze to look down at her empty mug, noticing how there was just a small drop left of the orange liquid.

"Your life is invaluable too, you know," she said in a low voice. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess in the first place. Neither one of us signed up for this, but - here we are."

"It's not all bad, you know," he said quietly.

"Being on Earth?" she asked. "Or my time in Nye?"

"Being with you," he said before taking another sip of tea.

Evaline watched him for a moment, dumbfounded and feeling like she should have been embarrassed, but she wasn't.

"I'm glad I wasn't all bad," she muttered instead, and then took a sip of her empty mug, remembering too late that it was already empty. She played it off and pretended that it wasn't, though.

James took another sip of his tea, and then smiled slightly in amusement.

"It's been good. Seeing you again," he said.

Evaline thought back to when they first saw each other at the meeting, and how James had an anxiety attack basically the moment he saw her. She was shocked too, and it did take her some days to get over it, but she couldn't help but wonder if James's sentiments were true for their entire time together.

"It's probably easier now that you're in Terra and have room to breathe," she said. "I know it wasn't easy before."

"It... was a surprise, to be sure," James said slowly. "I can understand why you threw rocks at me the first time we met."

Evaline shot him an odd - but amused - look.

"That was different," she said. "You were the first person I met. I thought I was kidnapped or something."

"Do you have any idea how weird it was for me seeing lightbulbs for the first time?" James asked. "I didn't know what the hell was going on."

"See, that's the part I don't understand," she said as she reached over to set the mug on the table beside them and then bent her legs on the couch, facing James as she casually sat. "You just went with it. Mel told me that you pretended to be a refugee." She lightly laughed. "Were you surprised at all, or did you wake up and think, 'Yes, this is happening to me today.'"

James grimaced slightly and let out another sigh.

"Yeeeeeeah, about that," he said. "I... I was so confused, but I realized early on that Elise was very confused by my questions and that there was a major miscommunication happening between the two of us. I thought if I tried to explain myself that she would only think I was more crazy than she already did, so I just decided to play along. I guess, in some ways, yes. I did just wake up and think: Okay. This is happening now. And like most everything else in my life, I just did the best I could to play along. That is, until I realized I couldn't just play along."

While James was talking, Evaline got even more comfortable on the couch, bending her knees as she full leaned to her side while facing James. She had fully accepted at this point that she was most likely going to fall asleep sometime during this conversation, but at least she would be comfortable.

"At what point would you say you realized that?" she asked. "Realized that you couldn't just play along."

James took a very long sip of his tea before he answered.

"When I saw you," he said.

Evaline was watching him, but not in detail.

"Because it was at that moment that you realized you really were on Earth," she thought out loud. "And not Nye."

"Yes," James said softly.

"I can see why you panicked," she added. "It's understandable."

"It made me look unstable," he said, tapping his fingers against his mug as he looked down into it again. "I know."

"The others will forget in due time," she said more gently. "And I understand why you felt that way. I mean, when I saw you, I was shocked too. But it's different when you're not from this world. It's all unfamiliar."

"I just didn't expect to have a whole audience when it dawned on me," James said.

"Believe me, if I had known you were here, I'd have privately talked to you," she said. "You just didn't have the same luxury I did when I ran into you first in Nye."

James tapped his fingers again against the mug, like he was thinking.

"Mel was one of the first people I met," James said. "Besides Elise and Zameer."

He paused, looking over at her.

"She said I looked familiar."

Evaline was glad that she felt more relaxed than usual, because otherwise she may have made a sour face.

"Did she now," she said flatly. "She has met a lot of people. You might just have a common face."

"That's what I said," James replied. "But I don't know. It just seemed like... she knew more than she was letting on."

Evaline paused for a moment, squinting at him to see if she could attempt to read him.

"Is that just speculation, or did she say something else to you?" she asked.

"She's been toying with me," he said. "And I don't know why."

"What do you mean, toying with you? Can you give me examples?"

He turned to her suddenly, facing her and meeting her eyes.

"When she gave me my haircut, the illusions she did to show me haircut ideas? Were ones I've already had. Ones that have been on my posters. And it wasn't just that they were similar. It was like she'd seen them," he said.

Evaline knew that at this point James had figured out that she must have told Mel something about him, and naturally, he was curious to know what it was. But that felt like a whole other topic she didn't feel like addressing right now.

"That's a mighty coincidence," she said blankly. "People say she has vision. Sometimes I wonder if it's more than literal vision."

James's expression turned a little more desperate.

"Evaline, I can't tell if she knows if I'm from another world or not. I know you've told her something about me. Does she know? It feels like I keep trying to-to keep up this whole charade but--"

"She doesn't," she interrupted. "She doesn't know about Nye. I've never told anyone about Nye."

"But she said she thought you made up the whole thing about me being from the past," he said.

"That's because she knows that's not true," she said simply.

"Then--" James stuttered. "Then where does she think I'm from?"

Evaline stared at him for a moment, trying to decide how deep this conversation was going to get when it was late into the night and she had already finished her tea. She knew she'd get physically tired soon, and frankly, this topic wasn't helping. She sighed.

"She thinks you're from the ungoverned lands," she said. "And that I ran into you while I was trying to get to the safe zone by myself. She knows we traveled together. I just didn't tell her it was in Nye."

"Ah," he said, leaning back into the couch a little again, and his brows were pinched together.

"So... when I told her I'd lived in the ungoverned lands..." he trailed off, humming in thought. "That's why she kept asking if I was sure I hadn't run into anybody."

Evaline repressed a groan. "That sounds about right," she said. "She just wanted to hear about it from you, I think. But I've told her to lay off, so she should leave you alone now."

"Did you tell her I was... wanted? Or does that not translate to... earth?" he asked.

"The Outlands and the ungoverned lands aren't too different to each other in the grand scheme of things," she said. "Everyone in the ungoverned lands is wanted by the government for one reason or another, but perhaps wanted is a strong word. Exiled is a better word, because no one is after them. But, I think, in your case..."

She trailed off, trying to piece together the words in her head so that it would be the easiest for him to understand. It was getting increasingly difficult to do so.

"There's a lot of backstory and history you probably haven't read about, and I can tell you it in more detail tomorrow. But basically, she knew that if the government would happen to find you, they'd want to eliminate you. And she figured that was why we trusted each other to travel together, because we had that commonality."

"And it wasn't because I can bear children?" he asked.

"That did not come up in conversation with her," she muttered.

"So... does she think that's a lie too?" James asked. "Not - not that it's even important. I'm just trying to keep track of who knows what at this point."

"She knows that's the truth too," she said. "It was just an assumption that went without saying." She sighed. "I can tell you about the tribes in the ungoverned lands tomorrow. If you hadn't have told anyone you had time powers, I'd probably have given you the similar back story to the council. Maybe you could use it, somehow."

"I've..." James sighed. "Maybe. We can figure that out tomorrow."

He took another long drink of his tea, finishing it off.

"Has Mel told you anything else?" she asked when he finished. "I'm sorry she was toying with you. She can be tricky and cunning sometimes, but I can tell her to give you some space."

"There is more," James said slowly. He looked over at her carefully, worried, as he was studying her. "She... she took me to your old house. If I had known that was where she was taking me in the first place, I would have never agreed to go."

Evaline had to stop and think for a moment. "My old house," she repeated like it would come to her, but nothing did. "James, I don't have a house. Where was this?"

James's expression only creased more with worry.

"I... well, maybe I was wrong. It -- it was an old cottage. It looked like it hadn't been lived in for a while," he said.

"Oh," she said as she propped her head on the couch with her hand. "That's Mel's cottage. Storage shed now, really. But yes, I did stay there for some time. A long time ago, though. I haven't been there in a while."

"It had... boxes of what I assumed to be your old belongings," James said quietly. Carefully.

Evaline was studying him, wondering what he was skirting around, and not liking what he may have found in there. She stayed there during a tough point in her life, and Mel might not have thrown away the boxes of things she told her to toss.

"I... did leave all my books in there," she said. "And noticed you have some of them now. I didn't realize you went there, though. Did you pick them out...?"

"That was why she brought me there," he said. "Or so she said. Initially. It was to pick out books."

Evaline wanted to outright ask him what exactly he was trying to say, but she was afraid of what she might hear.

"I'm not sure how much Mel cleaned up from the last time I've been there," she said softly. "It may have been a mess."

"I need to apologize," James said. "I didn't know your belongings were in there when Mel asked me to search for--"

"James, what belongings are you talking about?" she interrupted briskly. "Is it something trivial, like clothes? Or something that you're wanting an explanation about, like the broken paintings?"

"I don't need an explanation," James said quickly. "What I'm trying to say it-- I happened upon your journal. And no, I didn't look inside it. But when Mel and I brought back the books and furniture to the cottage, I found the journal at the bottom of one of the boxes. I didn't put it there, and I don't want it, and I haven't touched it since it's been here. But--"

He stopped abruptly, looking over to her. She couldn't help but just stare at him blankly, trying to process all of this at once.

"I did find a note," he said in a whisper.

There was a few seconds delay before Evaline was ready to speak. This caught her off-guard; she wasn't ready to have a conversation about the tribal people of the ungoverned lands, nevertheless about the existence of her journal. She was about to open her mouth and reiterate some things to make sure she heard it right, but then his last words hit her.

He found a note. A note that tied him to here.

"...Can I see it?" she asked just as quietly. "The note."

James still looked worried.

"It--" he started, but cut himself off, and nodded. "Yes."

He got up, set his mug on the table, and then walked over to his bed. She watched as he lifted up the mattress and reached underneath, pulling out a slip of paper. He walked back over to the couch, plopped down beside her, and handed it over to her.

Evaline wordlessly took the paper and began to read it.



She read it again and again, trying to simultaneously make sense of it while memorizing it. Just like last time.

But unlike last time, this wasn't as straightforward.

"I'm not sure I understand what it's trying to convey," she said as she hesitantly handed the slip of paper back to him. "There doesn't seem to be any direction."

He took the piece of paper and held it loosely in his hands, looking down at it with a sigh.

"I know," he said.

"I've noticed that there's room for more verses," she said. "Maybe it'll be like last time."

"Are you suggesting I throw it into the fire?" James asked.

Evaline stared down at the note.

"Maybe. Maybe that'd work," she said softly. "But..." she took a deep sigh, far too tired to filter the next thought. "You know, it wasn't just the fire that activated the next verse. I... I think. It's hard to say."

"What do you think it was, then?" he asked.

Evaline furrowed her brows together, trying to think upon the hazy memory.

"Before I threw it in the fire," she began slowly, "I came to the realization - the possibility - that I could stay in Nye. And I was angry at the note for demanding things of me. I guess I just wanted to do things on my own time, I don't know. That's why I threw it in the fire."

James looked up at her, then back down at the note.

"It's hard to be angry at a note that makes no demands," he said. "If anything, it's only frustrating because all it seems to be saying is that... I've arrived in a foreign land, and whatever the 'key' is, it's lost. I doubt it's the 'key' to leaving, though. It seems... more cryptic than that."

Key. Key, key, key...

"This sounds familiar," she murmured. "Wasn't there mention of a key in the other note? I don't remember what it said, though."

James looked up at her.

"The note... is in your journal. If you want me to pull it out," he said.

Evaline stared at him for a moment.

"My... Nye journal," she said, trying to frame it into a question, but failing.

"Yes," he said. "I saw it sticking out of it."

She sighed and shook her head. "I told Mel to throw it away years ago. Of course she didn't. And of course now it's tied back to this very moment."

"If it's needed, I guess... I can't be too upset with her. Even if she had no idea," James muttered.

Evaline rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I have no idea. But, I'll think back on that later. You have it now, then...?"

James nodded. "Yes," he said again, getting once again to his feet. He headed back to his bed and started pulling out his boxes of clothes from underneath it. It looked like he cleared out everything in the way before he reached far under his bed and pulled it out. He got to his feet, turning to her, and he gingerly grabbed the edge of the note that was sticking out of its pages.

He sat back down next to her, setting the journal between them, and offering her the old note. The first note.

Evaline took it, only glancing down at the journal at the otherwise empty box. At least a few dozed pages were torn out, and she tried not to think back upon that moment as she opened up the first note and read all the verses again.



She pointed at the first line of the second verse and showed it to James.

"This one here. It's when the second verse showed up. It mentions a key, too," she said.

She paused for a moment, and then decided to just let him have the paper since she was too tired to think too deeply about this right now, and he was better at these kinds of things anyways.

"I wonder if they could be related?" she thought out loud.

James was quiet, holding both notes now, one in each hand. It looked like he was scanning both of them, looking back and forth between the two. Evaline found herself inadvertedly staring at him, noting how creased his brows were when he was deep in thought with sharp focus.

"...The key could be... essentially what it asked at first. Opening your heart. Letting your walls down. It's a recurring theme," he muttered. "I don't know if the last bit is relevant or not anymore. The whole... you both have to want the other to go home for the magic spell to work, sort of thing."

"Do you think..." Evaline began slowly. "Do you think this is a new note, or maybe the fourth verse?"

"It feels more like a-- I don't think it's the same poem, but it is related. Like, a second part. Maybe. It may be saying that the..." he paused, scrunching up his face and squinting. "That we lost what we had... before...? But that's not new information. That's just what happens after five years of not seeing each other and not thinking we'd see each other again, among other things."

Evaline was trying to play catch up. She wished James had sprung this the next day when she was far less tired and could think with a clearer mind.

"You're saying that the new note is expressing how we lost our relationship?" she said flatly.

"Maybe," James said. "That's one possible interpretation. I don't know if it's talking about our relationship, our friendship, or just the fact that we knew a little more about each other back then and were more..."

He paused again, sighing.

"...open. I guess."

Evaline looked down at the paper again.

"Oh," she said. "So you're saying... we're not open. Now. And that's what the note may be saying, too...?"

James looked like he was mildly frustrated. Not at her, but at the notes in his hands.

"I can't speak for you," James said. "But today is likely the most open I've been thus far. If you want an honest answer."

"James," she said slowly, drawing out his name. "I don't care if you've been entirely open with me or not. I'm happy to be in your company and listening to whatever you are comfortable with sharing. If you're suggesting that, maybe, being more open could activate the next verse -- we could do that, if you want. But keep in mind that you are the one trapped here. What do you want to do?"

James looked up at her, then back down at the notes.

"Maybe we should sleep on it," he said. "It sounds like we already have a lot to discuss tomorrow. And -- you look like you need to rest."

Evaline almost agreed, but she knew she couldn't. Not yet.

"Can you answer my question first?" she asked. "And then we could talk more tomorrow."

James pressed his lips together tightly, and she noticed how deeply furrowed his brows were. From the observations she already made tonight, she knew that he was both anxious and deep in thought.

"I'm skeptical that tired infodumping would be a sufficient trigger for more to be added to the note, or that it would even prove useful. Historically, the notes have only proven to be cryptic riddles, and I can't even be sure that we've truly devised their true meanings. The last verse of the last note did seem to finally offer some sort of solution for sending you home, which ended up working, but if there's just as many verses in this one... we may not find answers that soon."

James clearly had a lot of thoughts, and now Evaline could see why he'd want to wait until tomorrow. This was probably just the surface of it.

"Okay," she said as she slumped back on the couch. "But one last thought just occured to me. Do you think, maybe, if the notes are built upon each other, that both of us wishing you went back would work again?"

James looked back up at her, and while he still seemed anxious, and focused, there was something else behind his eyes that was hard to read. Something she hadn't yet studied.

"That does seem like a possibility," he said, looking away again.

"I only want to do what you want to do," she said. "If you're open to trying it, we could do it."

James's eyes flicked over at her, but he kept his head down, facing the notes. He then grabbed the journal, and stacked both notes on top of it. He got up to his feet and walked over to the table, setting them all down. He paused, standing at the table with his back turned to her, and he turned his head slightly to the side, though his face wasn't in view.

"We shouldn't make hasty decisions with tired minds," he said.

"It wouldn't bother me if you don't want to try it, you know," she blurted out before she could think about it. "It doesn't bother me if you would want to stay here and not go back to Nye. But you have plenty of time to decide. You just... have to let me know what you want."

James turned to look over his shoulder, still halfway facing away, but now she could see his face in the candlelight.

"That seems to be the problem, doesn't it?" James said softly, looking at the floor. "I have to know what I want."

"I didn't know what I wanted when I was in Nye, either," she said. "But I did eventually. It comes with time."

James looked up at her, and she sensed that he wanted to ask or say something, but he decided not to, and instead headed over to his bed.

"I know you held something back just now," she said. "Should I be asking you what it is, or should it wait until morning?"

James pulled back the covers of his bed, and sat down on it, starting to tuck his legs in.

"Morning," he said softly. "We've both had a long day. We should rest."

He paused, with his legs halfway under the covers.

"Are you comfortable on the couch?" he asked. "Do you want--"

He didn't finish his question, and instead got out of his bed quickly and ripped off the top blanket from his bed. He bunched it in his arms and then walked over to her. Unceremoniously, he grabbed two ends of it and threw it over her, still holding the ends as he guided it over her legs.

"Blanket," he said. The explanation was, of course, unnecessary.

"Thanks," Evaline said softly as she pulled the blanket closer to her and watched him walk back to his bed.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked as he sat back down on his bed.

"No," she said, laying down and getting comfortable. "This is fine. Thank you."

"Okay," James said as he laid down, pulling his blanket over himself. "Good night. Sleep well, Evaline."

"Good night, James," she called back, blowing out the candle next to her and then laying back down on the couch.

Some moments passed as she found a comfortable position, and she felt like she couldn't go to sleep yet even though she was increasingly getting tired now that she was lying down. Something didn't sit right with her, but she wasn't sure what it was.

"James?" she called.

"Eve--Evaline?" she heard James groggily correct himself.

There was a long pause as she heard the old nickname come back to the surface, but she decided to push back the thought. For now.

"...Wake me up in the morning when you'd like my company," she said softly. "Don't let me sleep in."

She heard the bed creak, like he was turning over, maybe to face her - not that they could see each other's faces.

"Hey," he said, matching her volume. "We're not sleeping in shifts this time."

"No," she said wearily. "But I know you'll be up before me."

There was a small silence, and then a quiet: "I'll wake you."

"Thank you," she said quietly, and then turned over, pulling the blanket close to her and over her head.

The blanket smelled like James.

Why did she memorize his scent?

"Good night," she said, muffled through the blanket.

"Good night," she heard him echo.

It was not hard to fall into a deep sleep after that.

Evaline woke up by the sound of her name. She heard it twice at the back of her mind, but didn't stir until she felt a few pokes on her shoulder. She started to stir, peeling the blanket out from her face as the squinted when the sunlight hit her eyes.

"Evalineeee," James sing-songed. "Sun's up, you're up. Rise and shine."

Evaline groggily sat up and sighed, and she knew without looking in the mirror that she probably looked like a mess. Normally she'd sleep more, but since their time together was limited, she'd rather sacrifice the hours of her sleep to spend more time with James, especially since he didn't sleep much to begin with.

"Thanks," she said tiredly, rubbing her eyes as she looked up at him.

James was standing over the couch, smiling. She tried to smile back, but it felt a little forced since she just woke up. She heard him laugh quietly, and she started to brush back her hair with her fingers as she set her feet back down to the floor.

"Sleep okay?" she asked.

"Meh," he said with a shrug. "It was decent. I made you some breakfast."

With one last push, Evaline got up on her feet and then raised her arms, stretching for the air. She wouldn't do her morning stretches today, but at least this was something.

"Waking up to breakfast," she mused as she stood up straight again. "You're spoiling me."

"You said to wake you when I wanted your company," James said innocently. "I wanted your company after I finished making you breakfast."

"No complaints from me," she said with a small smile. "You now have my company."

James smiled back and nodded towards the kitchen table, where it looked like he had freshly cut fruits along with some roasted potatoes with some tomatoes and spinach.

"And you now have food," he said.

"Do you treat all your guests with this much hospitality?" Evaline said through a smile as she sat down on the bench with the food in front of her. "Or am I just that special?"

She picked up the fork in front of her, but then grimaced at her words.

"I mean, assuming you have many guests to begin with. But not... I mean, you're thoughtful regardless of who stays."

She ate a forkful of the food before she'd come to regret saying anything more.

James sat down next to her, but gave her a comfortable amount of space. It looked like he'd made enough food for two people, having portioned it out on two plates. He pulled the other one toward him and picked up a fork, looking over at her with a small smirk.

"You're the only one who's stayed the night so far," he said with a shrug. "So I guess that makes you special."

Evaline quickly chewed and swallowed, not wanting the silence afterwards to last long.

"You know, I stayed the night during the Day of Peace. It's like you gave me your flower."

The words came out thoughtlessly, and she regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth.

"I mean," she said quickly, trying to immediately backpedal. "I know you didn't. That was -- that was a joke. I've never -- I wouldn't -- hah. Never mind."

She started to feel the embarrassment rise to her face, but she leaned in and let her hair drape forward to conceal her face enough so that James couldn't easily see. She forced her tired brain to stop talking as she hastily took a big bite of the meal.

After a small pause, she heard James say: "How about I get you some tea? Josiah gave me some in his daily rounds that's supposed to help wake you up a bit."

Evaline nodded since she had a mouthful of food, but it was hard for James to see since she was turned away from him, so instead she brought a hand close to her face and muffled out a, "Sure."

She could hear him get up and walk over to the stove, where he put a kettle on.

"I hope I didn't wake you too early," he commented distantly as he wandered back to the table, sitting back beside her. He started eating at a relatively fast pace, but she was beginning to realize that was how he always ate.

"No, it's okay," Evaline said after she finished chewing and swallowing. "You didn't. It's fine. Don't worry about it."

James glanced over at her and nodded.

"Okay," he said softly before they both fell into silence as they ate.

Evaline didn't mind the silence, especially since she needed some time to wake up and they both needed time to eat anyways. She tried to match James's eating pace, but he was still faster and finished before she could. When James finished, he silently got up and fetched the tea, setting the steaming mug beside her.

"Thank you," she said as she finally glanced up and got a better look at him.

He was wearing farming attire: a white linen shirt and denim overalls. His hair was swept back and out of the way, and he had the faintest hint of a stubble, indicating that he hadn't shaved yet.

She wondered how long he had been up and what exactly he did so far. It seemed that he spent more time prepping food for the shared breakfast than for himself. He looked tired... but he was always tired. At least he looked a bit more well-rested, even though the bar wasn't set very high to begin with.

"How long have you been up?" she asked after tearing her gaze away and sliding the mug closer to her.

"Not too long," James said. "Maybe two hours."

"Did you do any farm chores?" she asked.

"Not much," he said. "I let Elliot out, and I swept the porch, fetched some water... but I mostly spent time making breakfast. Tidying up in here. All that."

"I appreciate it," she said after another bite. "It's thoughtful of you. But I also don't want to interfere with your daily routine you do everyday, if you still need to do it. Don't let me stand in your way of what needs to get done."

"There's a full day ahead of us," James said as he sat back down on the bench. "We've got time. I'm in no hurry."

Evaline stole another glance at him as she let another small silence pass, trying to hurry up and finish her food. She held the last forkful up and spoke again before she could eat it.

"I was thinking," she said slowly as she stared at the forkful in front of her.

"So soon?"

Evaline shot him an unamused look, and he smirked, but then looked apologetic and turned serious again. She didn't mean to ruin his lighthearted mood, especially since she wasn't going to say anything serious to begin with, so she forced an audible chuckle.

"I was just thinking -- wondering -- if you'd like to try meditating with me before we dived too deep in the discussion," she said. "That's all."

James stared at her for a moment before his expression softened.

"Sure," he said. "I could-- I'll give it a try."

"I usually do it every morning," she said. "Along with some stretches. I'm not sure how familiar you are with yoga, but I could also show you that, if you wanted to try."

"I'll follow your lead," James said. "Whatever you usually do, I'll follow you."

Evaline glanced at him again, fork still held out in front of her. He seemed genuinely interested and didn't accept out of politeness.

"Okay," she said with a small smile. "Not that I'm trying to impose my daily routine on to you, especially since you've already deviated from yours."

"Considering I already had one day's worth of deviation with the Day of Peace, I don't see how one more would hurt," James said with a small shrug.

Evaline finally ate her last bite, taking her time to think as she chewed and swallowed. She slightly slid the empty plate in front of her when finished.

"Maybe I could help you with your routine," she said. "Since it seems that you don't want to do it while I'm here."

"As long as you don't mind a little farm work," James said with a slight smile. "I'd like that."

Evaline slightly turned to face him, bringing the tea close to her face.

"Whatever you usually do, I'll follow you," she said as she took a sip. The tea was slightly bitter, but she didn't mind it.

James's smile grew ever so slightly as he gave her a knowing look.

"Sounds like a plan," he said.

"And then we could go through all the things we need to discuss without stressing over what needs to get done," she said. "We'll have plenty of time."

"Perfect," James said with a still-lingering smile.

She watched him as she took another long sip, liking how the tea was warm enough that it burned the back of her throat, but not so much that it would harm her. It felt like a nice pleasant shock to clear her head and be fully alert.

"You seem pleased," she commented.

"Thanks for noticing," James said, still with a slight smile as his gaze drifted down to the table.

Evaline took another sip, smaller this time as she still watched him.

"You don't seem pleased that I said you seem pleased," she commented again.

He looked over at her, seeming slightly amused, and he shook his head.

Evaline lingered her gaze on James a little while longer before downing the rest of the tea and setting the mug on the table.

"So. What's first?" she asked.

"How about a morning ride?" James asked. "Elliot needs the exercise."

"Oh," she said, not realizing that that would come up. "Sure. I can watch."

"If you want to watch, you can," James offered. "But you could also come along if you'd like."

"You mean, ride together? With you?"

"Yes," James said. "That is what I mean."

Evaline paused for a moment but then nodded with a small smile. "Okay," she said as she stood up. "We could do that. Like the bike, but... horse."

"But this time, I won't get sick," James said, pointing at her with a slight smile.

"And neither will I," she said back, mirroring the smile, but it turned out to be a grimace because she had no idea what she was saying at this point.

James looked like he suppressed a laugh, and he got to his feet.

"Do you need to borrow shoes?" he asked.

Evaline thought for a moment. "Didn't you say that heels helped you learn how to ride a horse?" she asked.

"Not the type of heels you were wearing," James said.

"In that case..." she began as her gaze drifted to the folded dress next to the couch as well as the heels on top. "Yes. Because the alternative is going barefoot, and I think I'm well-versed enough to know that you shouldn't ride barefoot around a horse."

James nodded in thought as he went over to his bed and pulled out a pair of shoes from one of the boxes underneath.

"It's not impossible to ride barefoot," he said. "I've done it before, but... it makes things easier to have shoes. You feel more secure."

He brought the shoes over to her and set them on the bench.

"See how these fit, and if they're too big, we could stick a sock in there to compensate," he said. "Unless you'd rather go barefoot."

"I think I'll take my chances with stuffed shoes," Evaline said as she brought up her leg to fit the shoe in. "Thanks."

After some shuffling, she realized that it was too big - but that wasn't a surprise and she expected this. She ended up taking James's offer with the sock, and although it wasn't the most comfortable shoe in the world, it did the trick.

She stood up straight and knocked on the floor with the shoes, feeling a tad ridiculous wearing them.

"Ready?" she asked.

James was looking at her feet with a smile, looking like he was trying not to laugh, but he then nodded.

"Let's go. I think Elliot will be happy to see you again."

James led the way towards Elliot in the shed, and he was right: Elliot seemed happy to see her again. The feeling went both ways. Even though she hadn't had the proper time to express it, she really was glad to see Elliot again. She really was glad he was alive.

"Maybe next time I should bring some sugar cubes so that he'd be more excited to see me than you," she joked to James as she pet his snout. He was sniffing her hand and leaning into it.

"I don't think you have to bribe him for his affection," James commented. "He already likes you."

When they were ready, James got on the saddle first, and Evaline followed shortly after. She could tell he was about to ask if she needed help, but she got on before he could so that she could prove she didn't need help.

It felt strangely nostalgic to be riding Elliot together. She also felt nostalgic when she rode Elliot by herself since she had countless horse riding lessons, but this felt a little different.

In Nye, she recalled that they only really rode together when they were running away from danger. But that wasn't the case now. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little wary.

James took her around the farm as she held on, and it was nice to be able to take in the surroundings instead of being the lead rider for a change of pace. They rode until Elliot received his exercise, and she helped him set the rope on the pasture so that he could graze.

When they finished, they moved on to a few of James's chores. They hauled in more water from the well to water the plants in the garden, and James walked Evaline through checking in on the progress of a few plants. They added some fertilizer to the soil and then got to work in the fields, where they made sure the plants were free of pests and watered some that were looking dry.

It wasn't hot anymore since October brought the beginnings of the mild coastal autumn weather, but the sun still shined down on them fiercely, and so they took a well-rested break after they were outside for some time. The water was cool when taken directly from the well, and they sat on the porch with the glasses and pitcher between them, watching Elliot graze in the distance.

"You've decorated the inside of your house, so maybe you could decorate your porch next," Evaline thought out loud when she noticed that his porch was fairly empty. "Maybe you could make those rocking chairs as your first piece of outside furniture."

"I like that idea," James mused. "It'll take some time, but that would be nice."

"You know me," she said in a faraway voice, still looking out. "I've got plenty of time."

When they finished resting, Evaline suggested that they start the meditation and yoga session so that they could seamlessly transition to their discussions afterwards. She was sure that the topics weighed just as heavily on him as it did to her, if not even more. But there was still plenty of daylight left ahead of them, and they would feel more calm and collected after meditating and stretching.

"Have you ever meditated before?" she asked as she laid two blankets on the grass in front of his cottage in lieu of a mat.

James walked up to one of the blankets, glancing over at her.

"Not exactly," he said.

"That's okay," she said as she sat cross-legged on the opposite blanket. "I'll walk you through it."

It was a bit awkward to talk through some of the steps while she was trying to meditate herself, but she quickly got used to it. It became repetition after a while: breath, listen, isolate the noise, push away any thoughts, focus on each part of the body, relax... She gave verbal commands more at first to tell him to inhale and exhale, but as the hour droned on, it became less and less frequent, and she naturally fell into her own meditative state.

Except, it didn't last long, because she was too distracted wondering if James was even getting into it okay.

When she broke focused and opened her eyes to peek at him, she noticed that he seemed stiff and not at all relaxed. She was hoping that this would help him ease up a bit, but she didn't expect that to all magically disappear in one long session.

When they finished, she decided to skim through the yoga stretches quickly, not wanting to take up too much of his time if he had a hard time getting into it. It was mildly entertaining to see him balance on one foot for a few minutes, though.

Finally, they finished, and although Evaline couldn't speak for James, she felt more relaxed and content. Free of anxiety, worries, and other attachments. Just where she wanted to be when they were about to have a whole discussion about his new identity, the new note, and her journal.

They packed up and entered the cottage, and James passed over some food to snack on. Conversation was light until they finished eating, drinking water, and ran out of other things do or say.

It was time to have the discussion.

Evaline sighed after a comfortable silence had passed, and she turned towards James on the bench.

"So. We're done with our activities, and we left off yesterday night with a big list of things to talk about," she said. "We should start our discussion. Where do you want to begin?"

James glanced at the journal that was still sitting on the table, along with the two notes. He slid it over to them.

"It may be best to start with how we're going to come up with a new story for me now," James said. "One that would make sense of the mess of information I dropped on different people in Terra. I should mention though, that there was one more... story I came up with on the spot. I don't know how much more difficult it might be to tie it all in."

"That's okay," Evaline said gently. "Tell me exactly what you told Isabel, the two women, and the other story. I'll help you figure out if there's a commonality that can tie those stories with what the council already know."

James sighed and nodded.

"Well, when Daisy - Josiah's wife - introduced me to her family, she asked me about myself. I knew she somehow knew that I could bear children, so I had to come up with some sort of lie that made sense, but I didn't think I should bring up my time powers again. So I didn't mention anything about my powers at all. What I told her was that my parents escaped the sectors when I was young, and that we lived in the ungoverned lands. I told her my father died suddenly because of the ungoverned lands' dangers and that my mother was captured when I was discovered, and that I was here in hopes of greater safety," James explained.

Evaline listened intently, taking notes in her head.

Daisy: escaped from sectors, lived in ungoverned lands outside of the safe zone, both parents were captured, he went to safe zone. Does not know his power.

She glanced around. "Do you have a paper and pencil I could use?" she asked.

"Yes, actually," James said. He pulled a journal off the shelf - it was the one she'd given him, and a pencil along with it. He flipped to the back page and ripped it out, handing her the empty sheet of paper and the pencil.

Evaline gave him a nod of appreciation and quickly scrawled the notes on the paper.

"Okay," she said when finished. "And Isabel? What did you tell her, exactly?"

James was looking at the notes on her paper as he started talking.

"I told her I was from the past," he said. "I explained my current understanding of my time powers by telling her that I experience visions of things that have occured in different places in time in dreams, but that I don't know how to make sense of it most of the time. I explained that one day I thought that maybe I could... reach into one of the visions. Like, I could go to it. It was only a thought, not something I thought possible, but when I 'tried,' I somehow ended up in the future. I explained that there was a lot I couldn't remember about how exactly it worked, or how I got here, or even how my powers work. But I said you were the one who found me, and that's how we became friends."

While James was talking, Evaline began to scrawl some more notes on the paper.

Isabel: same story of the past with council. Doesn't know how exactly it worked, or how his power works. I found and helped him.

"She did say she would keep it a secret," James said. "But you can never know with 100% certainty that people will keep their word."

Evaline looked down at the paper in thought, bringing the other end of the pencil to her lip as she tried to think of a commonality. It made things easier that he didn't make up a new story to Isabel, and instead borrowed some of the concepts from what she said at the council.

Well, some of the concepts. Isabel didn't know that James was more intricately involved than just "meeting Evaline."

"As far as for what Freya and Mina know," James added. "They only know that I have a minor time power. That's all."

That snagged her attention.

"Did you elaborate on what that means to them?" she asked, facing him.

"No," James said. "They didn't ask. I did... mention that I've 'never been in government' because Isabel was confused, and that I'm not related to anyone in the government. I was trying to deflect their questions."

Evaline jotted down more notes.

Freya/Mina/Isabel: not related to anyone/involved in government.

"Got it," she said, then placed the pencil down as she stared at the three lines.

She furrowed her brows in thought as she tried to think of a common denominator, and after a long pause, she sighed and pulled her fingers away from the paper as she turned her attention back to James.

"I think what you told Isabel about how your power works is good," she said with a quick nod as she decided to ease into everything. "I'm no expert about the evolution of time powers, but it seems realistic. Good job thinking on the spot."

James sighed. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Evaline picked up the pencil again, but only to roll it along her fingers and stare at it so that she could be mildly distracted.

"I think I should first tell you about where Mel thinks you're from," she said slowly. "It'd be easier to explain that way. Don't worry, we'll return to this discussion."

"Sure," James said. "I'm all ears."

Evaline nodded. "I told her you were from the ungoverned lands, and that I ran into you when I was escaping. We traveled for a few months then parted ways. What she doesn't know, though, is what type of inhabitant you were to the lands."

She looked up to make eye contact with him, just so that it's easier to tell if he was getting all of this or not.

"Living in the ungoverned lands means you don't live in the safe zone. And although the population is diminishing, there are still two types of communities: traditional, and tribal. Mel doesn't know for sure which one you were so-called involved in, because I didn't tell her a completely straight answer. I don't know if she was trying to poke that out of you, or if you saying you have a time power threw a wrench on her thought process, but. Now you know. And... I assume you need a description of the two since none of this is written down in books?"

"That would be helpful, yes," James said, listening attentively.

"Let's start at the beginning, then," Evaline began. "You know from your readings that the sectors were created to establish peace. You know that there wasn't peace, because even though people without powers were no longer a threat, that only meant there was a new enemy: each other. People with abilities fought over control and power, and it didn't help that each new generation got stronger and more unstable. The government that created the sectors congregated because they wanted to break away from the cycle of violence, and they wanted to create a governed society that could have people with powers coexisting with each other in harmony. This may sound like a one-sided viewpoint, but as someone with previous ties with the government, this is true. It did certainty start out that way, at least."

She sighed, realizing she dove into a mild tangent, and then started up again.

"It only worked if people wanted peace. It took years, but eventually the government created the first sector, and people ran away from their homes to join the sectors. It grew, obviously, to be big enough to home many people safely. This system was governed. Everywhere else was ungoverned. Hence, the name."

She paused for a moment, making sure James didn't look too lost.

"I'll get to why the tribal communities are important in a second. But do you have any questions up to this point? I'm thinking this bit of history is important for your new backstory."

"Not at the moment," James said. He didn't look like he was confused - just focused, and listening.

"Okay. So the tribal communities," Evaline continued. "These were the people that never went to the sectors to begin with. Their numbers are small now, but they still exist somewhere outside the safe zone in small communities. They never had the required fertility shots since they never went to the sectors, so you have that in common with them. But they also don't have the peace gene, nor do they care about peace. I've only heard of rumors, but their powers are wildly uncontrollable and dangerous. Don't worry about meeting them, though - they keep away from the safe zone since we still outnumber them. But, the government has an entire division related to squashing dissent, and that includes the threat of tribal communities. It was and still is a war, so many years later."

She paused, then sighed.

"I told Mel that I had suspicions you were from a tribal community. And if that were true, you'd similarly be wanted by the government if they had previously caught you and you escaped. She may have been trying to get a reaction out of you when she changed your hair to look like the poster I drew."

James hummed and nodded.

"So... maybe we can have two stories. One that is the 'true' story that Mel knows, and Daisy knows a fraction of. And one that Isabel and the council knows," he suggested.

"We could do that," she said. "Let me first tell you about the traditional communities of the ungoverned lands, though. They're basically sector escapees who don't live in the safe zone. They true traditional communities have lived there for many decades before the creation of the safe zone, and they don't want to leave because they are heavily influenced by tradition. Many of them tend to have a old-fashioned and archaic way of life... also kind of like you. They also tend to be more religious, and older. I've never met any - but they're all rumors, or so I heard."

She paused again.

"But another group under that category consists of people who escaped the sectors and went off into the untamed ungoverned lands, either trying to get to the safe zone, or they don't know the safe zone exists, and they just wanted to escape. I think that explanation fits closely with what you told Daisy. And with a little bit of tinkering... I'm thinking I could also mold it to fit into what you told Isabel. Following so far?"

"I think so. How are you thinking of fitting it into what I told Isabel? Would it just be that... I came here years ago, as opposed to only a month ago?"

"That, and more," Evaline continued. "Another thing that wasn't explicitly stated in the history books was that only time travelers were able to escape the never-ending war of violence and power before the sectors, and that was why they grouped together and formed a government. How it was formed and how they got started is all lost history, but I think we can take advantage of that. I think we can say that you did come from the past, and that you were one of the time travelers associated with sector founders. You were just a kid, though, yet you were trying to figure out what method of peace would work the best in the future, so you tried to peer into it, but accidentally jumped forward with your parents. You landed in the ungoverned lands, and the rest of Daisy's story followed. You've just omitted some parts to her, and same to Isabel. Make sense?"

James nodded slowly.

"Yes," he said. "And the full story... would this be something I could tell Mel, if necessary, if asked?"

Evaline stared back at the paper, deeply in thought. Deeply trying to think of an answer. She wasn't sure there was one for this.

"If I'd have known you were going to come back five years later, I wouldn't have told her anything," she murmured instead.

"Unfortunately, neither of us can actually peer into the future," he said.

"Yeah. Unfortunately," she said softly, then let out another sigh. "I'm just hesitant to share this version with someone else in the council when there's already people associated with the government within the council."

"That would certainly complicate things," James murmured. "And if I'm really associated with the founding of the sectors... well, I don't know. I don't want anyone expecting a history lesson from me."

If James went with this clear-cut story for everyone, that question was bound to come up. It had always been a long-lost form of history that other time travelers didn't know about. Even if she were not involved, she'd ask about it too and prod him for details.

It wasn't like Mel would tell anyone else, but... even little details could accidentally slip out sometimes.

There seemed to only be two options for Mel.

"We could just continue the lie for her, saying that I met and traveled with you while I was escaping, even though that is wildly different than the other stories," she said, then paused. "Or we could tell her the truth."

James slowly looked over to her, staring.

"The truth?" he asked. "As in... the actual truth?"

Evaline nodded slowly, meeting his eyes.

"Yes. She'd believe you, especially if I believe it too. I think, actually, she'd be more inclined to keep it a secret, and she'd be more protective of you. And... I think things would fall into place with what she already knows. It would fill in the holes to what I've previously told her, especially since it was a shoddy story to begin with."

"Are you sure we can trust her?" James asked, not breaking eye contact.

"We can trust her," Evaline said with sincerity as she sustained the eye contact. "She already knew your story was false, and even though she was skeptical of both stories, she hadn't said anything except to you."

"...She did promise to me that she would tell me everything she knew about me after the party," he said. "That is, until I ended up coming back with you."

Evaline finally looked away, and she rubbed her face in mild frustration and sighed.

"The only reason she's toying with you is because she's trying to figure out your true intentions," she said. "At least, that was what she told me."

"Intentions with... the council? You?" he asked.

"I assume... me," she said softly.

James was quiet for a moment and he hummed softly.

"She sounds like a good friend," he said.

"She's protective in strange ways," Evaline said as she dropped her hand. "But I told her to stop teasing you and mentioning what I told her to you. But, she wouldn't break your promise - so she would probably info dump and then not speak of it again."

"If I'm going to tell her the truth," he said, mildly emphasizing the 'if,' as if he hadn't decided for sure yet. "She would also have to make sense of all of this. The lies, and the truth, and who knows what. If we're letting her in on all of this."

Evaline nodded, in thought. "You're right. And I think having her knowing the full truth could play to our advantage. She talks to more people than I do and would help with damage control if anything were to blow up."

"It would be useful to have an ally," James agreed. "But... we still don't know who told Josiah and Daisy about me being able to bear children. Or if they told them anything else. Daisy seemed to eagerly recieve the story that I fed her so far, but I don't know if she knows anything else. But... if rumors spread fast in this small community, which I assume they will, she'll likely hear that I'm a time traveler - or that I have time powers - soon."

He paused, taking in a deep breath.

"I guess what I'm meaning to say is... the story we're trying to tell people about me seems to already be out of our control. To a degree," he said.

"You've probably figured this out already," Evaline said slowly. "But Mel is strangely very good at tricking people, especially when she has the upper hand. And since she has more connections to commonfolk than I do, I think she could help control this mess. I just... have to ask to see what she thinks. And she'd have to know the full story. The truth."

"I think we should both be there to tell it," James said. "She's more likely to believe two people than one."

"I can see if I can bring her next week," she offered. "How's that?"

"That would work," he said.

"In the meantime, keep a low profile. Don't draw any more attention to yourself than you need to."

"You know I have no trouble doing that," James said with a slight smirk.

"As long as it's not a repeat from the first minutes we saw each other, then you should be fine," Evaline said as an attempt of a joke, but she had no idea how James would take it.

James let out a huff of air through his nose.

"I don't plan on that happening," James said. "It'll be fine."

"Good," she said quietly as she scanned the notes again. She didn't need to, but it helped make the plan in her mind to be more concrete. "Do you have any questions on anything so far?"

"I think I have the cover story straight," he said. "But..."

She watched as his head turned to look at the journal, and the notes.

"If we're telling Mel everything," he said. "Then..." He turned to look back at her, meeting her eyes. "Don't you think there's things we should talk about first? Before there's a third party involved?"

"...We should probably figure out what, exactly, we're telling her," she said. "It doesn't have to be everything."

"I know that," James said. "Obviously we have to cover the basics. You arrived in the forests of Nye by yourself, with a note, and you wandered for a while until you stumbled into me. We traveled together for four months, and over those four months, the note revealed more information, eventually telling us how you could return home. And it ended up working. But that's... leaving out quite a lot."

Four months. Four months of lost history.

If she couldn't remember every important event, why should Mel know about it?

"She'd certainly have a lot of questions," she continued, wanting to know what James would want to tell her. "Mostly about what happened over those four months."

"Well... I think in order to do that I would have to provide the proper context and tell her why I was wandering the forests, and eventually deserts, of Nye alone - at least, until I ran into you. I'd have to tell her I'm a wanted man on Nye, and I would probably tell her that significant portions of our time were spent making sure we survived not only the wilderness but fleeing from those in pursuit of me, along with other dangers the wilderness comes with," he explained. "That seems the most succinct answer."

Evaline knew Mel would still have more questions, and most of them would not be as logic-based as the explanation James just said. But she'd rather want to know what James had in mind for that.

"Based on what she's hinted at to you, what types of questions do you think she'd ask?" Evaline asked.

James glanced back at the notes again, and leaned forward on the table, resting his chin in his hand.

"It's hard to say for sure," he said. "Considering we've both been actively dancing around anything direct. But... if I had to guess, judging from the ways she tried to get a reaction out of me by showing me your personal belongings, and constantly referencing you in conversation, she's likely more concerned about us. And like any good friend, she's probably trying to make sure that..."

He straightened up a little, dropping his hand from his face with a sigh.

"That I don't hurt you," he said.

Evaline also faced the table, averting her eyes and not being able to think of an immediate answer. She let a pause fill the air between them, and she wondered if James felt a similar pinprick that she felt in her heart when he said those words.

"That would be something she'd be concerned about," she said in a steady low voice.

"I mean, you know her better than I. I don't know how much she would try to pry, and I don't know how much you would want her to know, especially because of the circumstances around your memories. I want to take your lead on this, because I don't want things to be overwhelming for you while we're talking to her," he said. "If she starts asking too much, I'm more than comfortable telling her that it's none of her business, or figuring out some other way to... postpone that conversation. Or something like that."

James watched Evaline closely. He knew that neither of them knew if they were ready to have this conversation - but if they weren't ready to have it with each other, he didn't want to have it with Mel.

"I didn't tell her the circumstances of how I left," she said, looking focused on the wall ahead of them, averting her gaze. "I told her that you were the one who left me. And she'd ask why."

"Oh," James said. The word seemed to fly out involuntarily, before he could think to filter it. He hadn't expected that - at least, not that exactly - but now that she said it out loud, it made even more sense of Mel's protective behavior.

"I..." he started to say, but he couldn't think of how to finish that sentence.

He didn't want to come up with a fake reason for why he would've left Evaline. He was willing to tell a number of any other types of lies, but he couldn't think of something he could say that would be...

"I'm not sure what I would say," he whispered.

He feared that even that was suddenly too revealing of a response.

"That's why I brought it up," Evaline said, voice surprisingly calm despite the tension in her body. "She'd ask why. We'd have to answer her."

"If we were to tell her about the notes... we'd also have to weave that into the explanation," James said.

So, the story would be reversed. He would've been the one who wished her gone first, and she would've done the same, likely because he'd done so. That seemed the easiest, and most natural explanation, even though it couldn't be further from the truth.

"We could," she agreed. "That would still be true. That was how I returned. But she doesn't need to know the full story."

James turned to her, even though she wasn't looking at him in return. It wasn't to observe. He didn't want to pick apart her behavior like he did everyone else - looking for signs of deception, or danger. He just wanted to listen. He knew there was still so much neither of them were saying, or were too afraid to say.

"Then how much of the truth do you want to tell her?" he asked.

Evaline flicked her eyes towards him, but as quickly as she did, she looked away down towards the table as a strand of hair covered a part of her face.

"You know," she began. "She was the only person I trusted to directly talk about you. And the only reason I told her was because I didn't want to lose myself when I went through another memory wipe. It didn't matter in the end, since the memories weren't completely deleted. But she was there to remind me, in case it did happen."

James pulled his gaze away from her, not wanting to stare. He didn't know if Evaline wanted to talk more about this, or if she was only willing to share this small glimpse into her life after she returned to Earth. She'd hinted at small pieces, and he knew a little from the few memories he glimpsed, and the educated guesses he could make, connecting dots in-between.

"Did you feel like you..." he started, softly. "Did lose yourself?"

"It's hard to say," Evaline said softly, still calm despite the rising anxiety in her voice. "I don't have a reference point. I don't think I ever did."

James was quiet for a moment, hoping that his presence, and just listening would be enough.

"I'm just saying," she continued on when the quiet moment passed. "Mel probably knows more about what happened than I even do. But she's promised to not bring it up around me. I just... I guess, if you want to talk about it, you can. But I don't have to be in the room if you do."

She paused again.

"I'm sorry I'm not ready."

James knew that before she said it, but it still stung. It wasn't like he knew if he was ready either, but... he was beginning to wonder if they ever would be ready.

"You don't have to be," James said gently. "So, I'm assuming that you don't want to be in the room if I discuss... the nature of our parting in Nye. With Mel. Is that what you're saying?"

Evaline took a deep breath. "Do you want to discuss that?" she asked.

James kept watching Evaline, but out of the corner of his eye.

"Before discussing it with anyone else," he said. "I would want to talk about it with you. If we don't before we meet with Mel, then I won't discuss it with her."

Slowly, Evaline slightly turned her head, just enough so that she could meet his eyes for a moment. She looked like she was trying to conceal it, but she still looked tired. And hurt, like he said something wrong. He hoped she knew he wasn't putting pressure on her to talk about it. He only meant that he didn't want to tell someone else until they talked about it together - and he could wait until then.

"I'm trying not to make the same mistake again," she said emptily as she turned away again. "Now, I mean. I'm trying to make sure it doesn't happen again."

James's brows knitted together as he looked at her in concern, and confusion.

"It... as in, sending me back?" he asked quietly.

"No," she said just as quietly, but didn't elaborate any more.

"I'm not sure I understand what mistake you're referring to," he whispered back in response.

"It's okay," she whispered back, but then took a deep breath, and said in a normal tone, "It won't happen again, so it doesn't matter anyways."

"That's not an answer," James replied.

"Why does it matter?" she said back, and he could detect the rising anxiety in her voice again. "You don't have to worry about it. I don't want you to worry about it."

"If it's something you're worried about happening again, and it involves me, I could help," he said. "If you only told me."

"You can't," she said quickly. "I think you just -- just, never mind. Okay?"

"No," James said, pressing with more insistence, but he did not yell, nor did he change his tone. "Not okay. You say it won't happen again, and yet you're afraid it will. What--"

"I can't save you if I'm in love with you," she said with a desperation in her voice and a strained smile as she briefly turned towards him to meet his eyes for just a second, before she dropped it and all the anxiety returned.

James stared, blinking as the words seemed to weave their way past all of his defenses. It almost felt like time was starting to slow, and his heartbeat was growing louder, like a slow beating drum.

"I mean," she said afterwards, filling in the silence that followed. "I'm not -- that was just the past. In the past. And it's not true... anymore. Because I can't -- we can't -- neither one of us want... to repeat that. And I... I can't go through that. Not again. And I know you can't either. And that's why I -- I brought it up. So it doesn't happen again. But I have it under control. You don't... I mean, I have it under control. You can trust me on that, and neither one of us would have to repeat. Repeat our history. Because..."

A mirthless laugh escaped her lips as she leaned forward on the table and put her hands to her face, covering it fully. He still sat frozen, staring at her.

"It won't happen again," she repeated, voice flat and muffled from her hands.

James felt like there was a snake wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air. There were words he wanted to say, but all he could hear in his head was Evaline's: I'm not ready. But how was he supposed to respond? It was too late now, wasn't it? He'd pried this out of her, whether she was ready or not, and he couldn't just let it hang in the air forever. They couldn't just move on and pretend like she hadn't said anything.

She was still doing what she'd done all those years ago. Taking all of the responsibility on herself, when it wasn't hers to bear.

"Evaline," he said softly, forcing his voice out again. "You may be able to control your emotions, and whatever else it is inside your heart in mind... but you cannot control mine. You are not responsible for how I feel. And--"

"Don't," she interrupted, her hands still covering her face. "Don't do this. We both can't go through this again."

"But if we never talk about it how can we ever move on?" he asked, and the words seemed to come out of somewhere deep inside of him, without filter. "If that's what you really want? To not repeat history?"

"I -- I don't know, James," Evaline said back quickly, her voice increasingly more desperate and exasperated. She took a shaky breath as she controlled the quiet tone of her next words. "Why do you think I wanted to forget you?"

James felt his entire body tense up.

"If the reason is anything other than the fact that you thought I wasn't real until now, I do not know the answer," he said quietly.

A small laugh escaped her throat, but it was mirthless and borderline hysterical.

"I woke up with my journal. I woke up with my memories. I woke up with a scar. I knew you were real," she said, her voice slightly laced with hostility.

"Would you tell me, then?" James asked, feeling like he was starting to step on thin ice. "Or are you going to make me guess?"

Evaline dropped her hands and slowly - for just a second - stopped to stare at him. There was something familiar with the way she looked at him. Her unnerving stare reminded him of their first days together when they were telling each other lies and didn't trust each other yet. It was full of irritation, and not at all welcoming.

She stood up, took a deep breath as the look disappeared from view, and then started to head for the door.

"I'm going to get some air," she said, not waiting for him to follow as she left.

James got up to his feet a second later, and followed her to the door as she stepped out. She took some steps forward and then sat down on the porch steps, squinting at the late-afternoon sun, her brows furrowed together and looking otherwise unreadable as she perched her elbows on her knees and leaned her head against her hand. James stood in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe in silence. The silence between the two of them dragged on, filling the space with a growing tension, desipte the fact that they were getting "air."

"You let me go," she finally said with her voice steady and calm despite her small outburst and obvious animosity towards him earlier.

He knew it. He knew it. He knew it.

"But I hadn't let you go," she finished after another long pause.

"I know," he said lowly.

He had a gut feeling that she wasn't looking to hear part two of his apology.

"You asked me why I did it. Why I chose to forget you," she continued. "That was why."

James was quiet for a moment as he stood, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Like I said before," Evaline continued on, voice once again increasingly more impatient and irritated despite her continually choosing to fill the silence herself. "I don't blame you. It's just... do you have any idea what it was like to look forward to a new life, only to get it pulled out under you, just like that?"

James had a feeling it was a rhetorical question, but he replied. Quietly.

"No," he said.

It wasn't entirely true, but it didn't matter. That was a different context.

"Of course you don't," Evaline continued, now not even bothering to hide the ever-increasing impatience. "And it didn't even hit all at once, either. Sure, maybe it's true that you inadvertently helped save my life by the whole experience, but what was the cost? Do you have any idea how taxing it is, and how much I hate the person I become when I lose myself? Again, and again, and again?"

Long-buried memories were resurfacing again. Dreams. Memories of Evaline's desperate call for help. All after the fact that she was gone.

She turned towards him, and for the first time, James saw something else behind her eyes. She was holding back tears.

"Do you even care?" she asked as her voice hitched in her throat. "Did you even think about me when I was gone? You mentioned friends -- did they even know about me? Was I just another story you told yourself in your sleep when I was gone?"

Her voice was getting increasingly louder, turning to desperate yells.

"Did you even care?" she finished, still facing him as it became apparent she was on the verge of crying.

James felt his own throat starting to tighten up. He uncrossed his arms, even though it made him feel more exposed.

"Evaline," he said, forcing his voice not to break. "I have never. Stopped. Caring."

Evaline stared at him for a moment, and when she blinked, a tear rolled down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away and turned her head away.

"I want you to stop caring now," she said after a pause, voice empty. "That's the only thing I ask of you."

"I don't know how to do that," James said quietly, still carefully pushing back the lump trying to grow in his throat.

"I still care about you, you know," she continued on, still with the empty expression. "And I hate that I do. This is my curse. I can't ever let anyone go, even if I end up hating them." She paused. "But I think distance apart will help. It did in the past five years."

"Maybe it did for you," he said, biting his tongue before he could say more.

Evaline was quiet for a moment before she talked again.

"You said that you wished you could see me every day if you could," she said slowly. "But that can't ever happen. You know that, right?"

James took in a deep breath.

"I knew that before I told you," he said.

"I think we should see each other less," she blurted out. "It's the best for both of us."

"So Mel, then," James said. "Are we still telling her the truth? Or have you changed your mind?"

Evaline was still, fiercely focused on the view in front of her.

"I don't care what you tell her," she said. "I don't need to be there. If she doesn't believe you, tell her to come to me for validation."

James could feel the knot growing, this time like a tension around his heart, in his chest.

"Okay," he said.

He didn't want to leave the conversation like this. If their roles were reversed, he felt like Evaline wouldn't leave the conversation like this. She would keep pressing. She would keep fighting.

But now he knew: she'd never forgiven him, and she never wanted to.

He couldn't fight that. He knew he deserved it.

"Are we done?" Evaline continued, voice cool.

"Yes," he said breathily.

"...Okay," she said as she got up on her feet and headed towards her bike. He watched her as she got on her bike. In the back of his mind, he thought of her dress, and her heels, which were still in his house, but it felt so inconsequential compared to everything else. If she needed the dress, she'd come back for it. But after this, she probably wouldn't come back again. Would she?

She pulled her keys out of the compartment of the bike and started it up, pushing up the kickstands and then sitting on the seat. She hesitated before she moved, though.

"I know it doesn't make a difference," he said, still standing on the porch, but moving to the steps. "But I meant what I said... a month ago, now. I am sincerely sorry. Without exaggeration, and without excuse. You deserved better."

Evaline was watching him, but he could tell that she was unfocused. Like she was looking past him with empty eyes.

"And I meant it when I said I couldn't do this, and that I was not ready," she said as she put one foot on the board.

She paused.

"And I meant it when I said that we could still be friends. But now I'm wondering if that's a stretch. Maybe we shouldn't even be friends."

James couldn't make the decision for her. He couldn't force her to want to see him again, or associate with him, or be his friend.

He let her go once. He didn't want to let her go again, but she didn't want him. And he had to believe she meant it this time.

"I am willing to try, if you want to try," he said softly. "But I don't expect it of you."

Evaline looked down as she set her hands on the handlebars, and this time, it looked like she was the one who wanted to say something, but held back.

"Goodbye, James," she simply said instead, barely loud enough for him to hear.

She didn't wait for his reponse as she started to drive away on her bike. He turned into his house before she was out of sight.

He sat down on his couch, stared at the journal on his table, and lost track of how much time passed before he moved again.

"How far would you like me to go back?" Evaline asked. She was sitting across from him. They were having breakfast outside of the Yurt. Bubby was still around.

This was over a month ago. Evaline had said she was going to reverse a moment in time. She wanted to try something, and see if he would dream it later. Apparently, later was now. He was finally going to see himself fling grass.

He watched through his own eyes as he turned and ripped grass out of the ground, throwing it in her face.

"There. Take those few seconds back," he said.

The memory was fuzzy at first. He could decipher it enough, but it was like he was underwater. He tried to focus. This memory was with Evaline. They were outside of Terra, in the safe zone. He tried to remember just how far away that was...

Gradually, the image got clearer. Sharper. To the point where it almost felt like it was real. It was happening again.

"I will," she said as she nonchalantly brushed a few grass pieces back. "But before I do, I want to know something." She looked back at him again.

"Did you dream about all the times I went back, for the lizards and for Butch?"

This... was more than she'd told him had happened.

It occured to him that she didn't seem to think his abilities would carry over from Nye. She'd taken advantage of this moment to ask him questions he wouldn't remember answering.

And she didn't know he was dreaming again like this. He hadn't told her.

He'd told her so many things... but not this.

"You really haven't changed that much," he said lowly. "Have you?"

He paused, only for a second, to sigh and yank another piece of grass out of the ground. The strand was long, and he held both ends in each hand. He looked at the grass like he was inspecting it. James didn't expect to be able to feel the texture of the grass in the dream, but it was like he was really there again.

"I dreamt about all of it," he said. "Every time I died. Every time you died. Every time we both died. Every time we almost made it and then failed, be it escaping from lizards or the butcher. Not a minute was spared. So if you're wondering if I remember all of it, the answer is yes. I do. But you didn't want to talk about it, so I didn't bring it up."

He looked up at her.

"And for the record, I wish you would've asked me this after."

"I have one last question," she said, still holding her stare and not replying to his responses. "Did you receive my very last message?"

He was quiet, and he looked at the blade of grads in his lap before tossing it to the side. A deep sadness, guilt, and shame washed over him.

"Yes," he said. "Are you done now?"

But she wasn't, even though she said there was only one more question.

Why had she wanted to steal this conversation away from him? She said she wasn't ready. She clearly wasn't. Why this? Why now?

"No," she said firmly, but then paused and looked away."I'm sorry if I've caused you pain. It won't happen again."

That wasn't true.

"Neither of us can promise that with certainty," he said softly.

James didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry at the fact that he'd already seen it coming weeks away. He knew they wouldn't be able to ignore everything forever. He knew the pain of it would come up eventually. He knew they would hurt each other again with or without meaning to because they already had. They just had to address it.

He knew he shouldn't have pushed her. She'd warned him...

Maybe, somewhere deep inside, this was what he wanted. Things could never be easy for long. If trouble and pain didn't come to him, he had to make it for himself. Always... over and over again...

The night he dreamt of their erased conversation was the same night after she'd left, and it came deceptively. It snuck up on him. He allowed himself to let his guard down when he thought he could predict where the memory would go, and then as it ended abruptly, he snapped to wakefulness with the weight of an anvil on his chest and his eyes bloodshot from sleeplessness.

Giving up on sleep for the millionth time, he pulled the cassette player out and stuck one of the songs in, letting it play on and on, filling the dreaded silence.



A week went by.

The day Evaline left after the Day of Peace, James cleared away all evidence that she was ever there. He loosed a floorboard under his bed and created a secret, hidden crevice where she stashed her things. That included the dress, the heels, the journal, and both notes, even if one of them was arguably his. He didn't care anymore.

It wasn't that he didn't want to listen to the note because he didn't want to do what it said. He just didn't care what it said anymore.

As the following days came and went, James found ways to fill his time. In the mornings, instead of riding within Terra's borders, he would go outside the gate and ride into the safe zone, off the beaten (or paved) path and familiarizing himself with the area. It was a needed change of pace, and he noticed that as he came and went through the gates alone, the guards didn't seem to care or give warning. He had a feeling that the rumors of him being a time traveler had spread, and people seemed to stop caring so much about his well-being or whereabouts.

He noticed the rumors reached Josiah's family as well when, after two days in a row of babysitting Josie, Josiah became increasingly distant and stopped asking James to watch Josie.

The babysitting was short-lived, but maybe it was for the best. Josie seemed to warm up to him in that short time, but he knew how to say goodbye. James decided he could simply devote more of his time to farming, and reading, and making a quality rocking chair.

He spent a great amount of time finding the perfect wood and carefully beginning to carve out different pieces, sanding and smoothing them.

As far as reading went, James was speeding his way through the books on french, and practicing it out loud to himself.

However, the most notable thing that happened all week, apart from the visible results of the spreading rumor, was when Isabel showed up.

A day after Josiah seemed to be more distant, she wordlessly knocked on his cottage door late one evening.

He came to the door and opened it, looking to her expectantly.

Her hair was tied up again, and she was wearing overalls. Some dirt was smeared on her clothes and her skin. She looked a bit nervous as she tightly held her hands behind her back.

"Hi," she said with too-big of a forced smile. "I, um, thought I'd say hi."

James smiled back the most natural smile he had. It was moments like that, that he was glad he was well practiced.

"Hey," he said. "Is everything alright?"

It was a terrible question. He knew.

Isabel let out a small chuckle, but it looked and sounded nervous.

"I'm alright. But are you?" She glanced behind him inside his cottage.

James backed away from the door, gesturing for her to enter, which she did, almost too quickly.

"I haven't heard from you in a while," she said, glancing around his place. "Nice house. It's homey."

"Thanks," he said. "I'm sorry I haven't come by. I've been meaning to."

"That's alright," she said as she poked a flower on a pot. "But I also wanted you to know, that, uh..."

She turned towards him, offering a sheepish smile.

"I've kept your secret. So. The rumors probably came from Freya or Mina. They have a big mouth."

James met Isabel's eyes with a deeply grateful, though small smile.

"Thank you, Isabel. I hope it hasn't been too taxing to do so."

"No!" Isabel said too quickly and loudly. "Nope. I'm good with secrets." She put her hands behind her back and looked away again, bashfully murmuring her next words. "You can tell me anything."

James laughed a little in the back of his throat and gestured to the couch.

"Why don't we sit down?" he offered.

"Sure," she said with a smile.

Isabel then briskly walked over to the couch and then long-jumped the last few strides, landing on top of it with a thud. She grinned but then sat up straight and scooted over to one side. James sat there, in the space she left open.

"I've been thinking," he said. "About the Day of Peace party, and after it."

He looked up at her to guage her reaction. She was patiently listening for once, peering up at him and waiting for him to elaborate.

"I'm honestly not 100% sure what the flower tradition means, and if it has different nuances in Terra. But I felt that it was made pretty clear with the kiss," he said.

He could see Isabel blushing a bit as she twiddled with her thumbs and looked off to the side with pursed lips. This was never easy.

"I like being around you," she muttered.

James smiled slightly, but there was a hint of sadness.

"I enjoy your company too," he said. "And I'm very grateful that you've been a friend to me. You're the first one who reached out to me, and you've helped me get out of my shell, and you're a lot of fun. I want you to know that I do think very highly of you. But I also want to be honest and fair to you. I love being friends, but I don't think I could be anything more."

Isabel watched him with her expression melting away as he talked, and she looked between him and the wall in front of them, back and forth like it was supposed to help her gather her thoughts.

"So... you're, um. Not... interested...?" she said with her voice at a higher inflection point at the end, like she wasn't sure where that thought was going.

"Not romantically," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

"Oh," she said just as soft as she stared down at her hands. "Okay."

She paused for just a moment before she spoke again.

"Were you interested in Freya?" she asked.

"No," he answered gently. "Not Mina either."

Isabel looked like she was in thought again.

"What about Evaline?" she asked. "I noticed her bike was there for the night... so..."

He'd prepared himself for that question long beforehand.

"Not her either," he said in the exact same soft, reassuring tone. "She comes by to check on me to make sure I'm adjusting to being in a different time well. She was planning to come after the Day of Peace, but happened to stop by the day prior, so she stayed the night. That's all."

Isabel didn't bother hiding the look of relief, but it wasn't clear whether it was because of his first statement or if it was because of the logic behind Evaline staying.

"So," she began again. "You're not interested in... anyone?"

"Not really," James said like it was a shy, modest confession.

Isabel looked like she was in thought again, but then grinned up at him.

"Not now. But you could be, right? After you get settled in and stuff? New time period and all?"

James wanted to groan, but he kept from showing outward signs of distress.

"I can't promise anything, and I don't want to give you false hope," James said with as much sincerity as he could muster. He truly meant it, but it was tiresome.

"That's okay!" Isabel said witj a too-chipper voice as she abruptly stood up from the couch and set her hands on her hips, facing him.

He had a dreaded feeling that she was going to try and win his affections.

"I still wanna be friends with you," she said. "Can we hang out more?"

But she was the only person in Terra (besides maybe Freya, who he definitely didn't want to see) who even seemed to want to be associated with him.

It wasn't that he was that desperate for company, but he was desperate for distraction. Anything to pull him out of the pit of mud in his head.

"I wouldn't mind hanging out some more," he said softly. "I think... now that people know my power, people aren't as interested in me anymore. I'd appreciate some company."

"Yeah, but you're different," Isabel said, still standing tall and confident in front of him. "You're not like the other dumb time people. You're actually nice. And you have a horse!"

James laughed lightly, even though his heart wasn't in it.

"Elliot does seem to be my greatest asset," he said.

"Yeah!" she agreed. "Maybe if we ride up to the others on Elliot, they'll all like you like I like you." She paused for a moment. "As, uh, a friend," she quickly added.

Well he didn't want either of those things. He laughed again.

"I doubt that a horse will change anyone's minds, but I appreciate the thought."

"We could try though," Isabel said with a sunny smile. "Maybe tomorrow? After I bring you lunch?"

James paused, looking up at Isabel and meeting her eyes.

"Isabel," he said softly. "Are you sure you want to be so publicly associated with me?"

"I don't mind!" she said with an even bigger smile. "People don't like me anyways. So what difference does it make?"

For some reason, her logic pricked at something inside of him.

He felt the same. They had that in common.

It was a disaster waiting to happen, though. He could already see her getting her hopes up even though he'd told her in many different words that he wasn't interested.

But James wasn't feeling like preventing disasters. He'd already had one blow up in his face, and he knew it was only a matter of time before his cover story came to ruin.

Why not have a little bit of fun before it did?

"I understand that," he said, getting to his feet across from her. "I guess - lunch it is then. I'll see you tomorrow."

Isabel seemed pleased as she nodded and then skipped to the door, beaming at him as she reached for the doorknob. She paused before she could pull it up.

"Say," she began, turning towards him again. "If you're from the past, does that mean you eat meat?"

James blinked. For half a second, he feared that question was going somewhere else.

"Uh..." he said. "Yes. I... I do. Though I haven't really eaten any since I've been here."

Isabel hummed and nodded again, pulling the door open in one big swoop.

"Josiah gave me an entire chicken. Do you want me to bring you some of it for lunch?" she asked.

"Sure," James said with a smile.

"Okay!" Isabel said with another grin, then waved at him. "Bye!"

She ran off without shutting the door behind her, heading back towards her farm.

The next day, Isabel was true to her word, and she brought over plenty of roasted chicken that they ended up making into sandwiches that they ate together. After sitting and idly chatting while their stomachs settled, they eventually went outside and took Elliot for a ride.

James led them through familiar paths at first, but Isabel directed them to a few farms he's never traveled by. They would stop and wave, and Isabel would holler, but their greetings were not so energetically or enthusiastically recieved.

James had predicted as much, but Isabel seemed a little disappointed - though the disappointment turned to frustration by the time they got back. She ranted a little about how people just didn't know he was different, and James couldn't help but appreciate the irony when only a month ago she'd ranted just as passionately about Evaline, whom she didn't like.

By the time the week was over, James had almost forgotten that anyone would come by to check up on him. It had always been Evaline or Mel, and after his and Evaline's previous conversation, he almost expected to be left alone for a while.

That was, until a sleek, white car rode up to his farm one early morning. The car was different than Mel's, looking newer and bigger. James watched it pull up from inside, discreetly peeking out the edge of his window to see who it was. It was hard to tell since the windows were tinted, but when the door opened, James could easily recognize who it was.

Oliver. He came to visit him.

He was wearing fitted black pants and wore shined black shoes, and he was wearing a simple long-sleeved white tunic with buttons draped across. It wasn't quite formal, but not familiar either.

There was a bag slung across his chest, and he was holding a colorful bouquet of flowers for whatever reason.

Oliver didn't seem to notice him peeking out the window as he bounded up the steps and knocked on his door.

James got up to meet him, opening the door and bowing his head as a greeting.

"Oliver," he said. "Good to see you. What brings you here?"

"James," he greeted with his own head nod, as well as a smile. "Thought I'd stop by. I'm not interrupting your work, am I?"

"No, I just got back from riding Elliot and was taking a small break. You caught me at a good time," James said. He backed away into the cottage and waved his hand.

"Come in?" he offered.

"Thank you," Oliver said with a warmer smile as he walked in and looked around his place.

He looked to be mildly impressed, but considering that he hosted a formal party, James wondered if he faked the expression. Or perhaps he was only impressed that James managed to accomplish something decent.

"I like what you have done to your place," he said, then gestured to the bench, table, and bookshelf. "Didn't take you for a handyman. You're rather talented."

So, he could tell they were hand-made.

"Oh, thanks," James said with a small nod and a bit of surprise. "I just... figured I'd make what I needed."

Oliver nodded. "Quite crafty. And you can farm decently as well, I see. Seems you're fitted to survive in the wilderness all by yourself," he said with a teasing smile.

James wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, but he smiled and shrugged.

"Aptly observed," he said in return.

Oliver chuckled and then extended the colorful bouquet out to him.

"Here," he said. "Thought this would spruce your place up. It's leftover from last week's party. Isn't it remarkable how flowers are genetically modified to not wilt for weeks now? I tell you, the future is quite bright at times."

James took the bouquet with a grateful nod and smile.

"So it seems," he commented, looking to his table and glancing around his small home to find a place to put it. "I'll have to put it in a vase later," he landed on, setting the flowers on the table for the time being. "Thank you for the gift."

He couldn't help but notice that Oliver's gaze lingered on Josie's daisy painting, but he didn't comment on it. James found himself suddenly thankful for having the mental fortitude to put Evaline's drawing out of sight. He didn't need more prying questions from nosy council members.

He did worry that the daisy would tip off Oliver to the existence of children in Terra... if he wasn't aware already.

He made a mental note to stash it away when Oliver left.

"It's my pleasure," Oliver said, smiling again as he shifted his attention back towards him. "How have you been doing?"

"Well, I'd say after the Day of Peace, things calmed down back to normal," he said, putting his hands in his pockets, putting on a relaxed posture. "I keep up with the farm, talk to a few neighbors here and there, take care of Elliot... it's nothing too exciting, but I enjoy the simplicity."

"I am pleased to hear that your time is Terra is going well," Oliver said. "Do you prefer the simple life?"

"I'd say so," James said with a shrug. "You?"

Oliver lightly laughed. "I prefer more complex environments," he said. "But there is nothing wrong with being entertained by the simple joys of life."

Oliver reminded James a lot of the wealthy guild leaders in the kingdom. Their families came from power, privilege, and money. They always pretended to understand the poor and the needy, but they never knew what it was really like.

He couldn't say for sure that Oliver wasn't aquainted with those kinds of hardships, but from what he observed so far that didn't seem to be the case.

"What do you like to do, then?" James asked. "I know you're a busy man, but in your few moments of time that you have to yourself... do you create? Do you read?"

Oliver tilted his head as he watched James attentively, making prolonged eye contact to show that he was listening. He seemed to be mildly amused. James hoped he wasn't the type to think he was above having hobbies.

"I'd say it's rather important to spend your few moments of personal time that you have with others, don't you think?" he asked with a smile.

"Ah," James said with a sharp nod. "So you're a social butterfly, then."

Oliver laughed. It didn't sound genuine. James wondered if Oliver's answer was intended to be some kind of subliminal message.

"I did throw a Day of Peace party that you attended as well," he said. "Did you enjoy the experience? It may not fit your ideal version of a 'simple life', but I am happy that you accepted my invitation."

There was something that almost felt inhuman in the way Oliver seemed to list off things as proof of his social status, specifically picking an example he knew James could corroborate.

"I did enjoy it," James said, knowing he was lying through his teeth even though he said it so seamlessly. "It was a good experience, and though I'm not sure everyone on the council really likes me, I'm glad I got to match names to faces."

"Oh?" Oliver said as he squinted his eyes ever-so-slightly at him. "What gives you the impression that not everyone on the council likes you?"

James wasn't about to rat people out. Not when Oliver probably had the power to push them around.

"Oh, I don't know," he said as he looked to the side. "It might all be in my head. But I know I didn't leave the best first impression."

"Ah," Oliver said with gentle understanding. "I see. Some members are less perceptive to newcomers, but they'll come around. I think you just need more than a few minutes worth of conversation."

James nodded slowly.

"It'll just take some time, I think," he said. "For all of us."

"It always does," he said with a softer tone, but then turned back towards him with the smile that seemed to be permanently plastered on his face.

"Speaking of which," Oliver continued. "I'd like you to get to know more of the council members. I'm thinking of setting a reliable weekly schedule for you so you can predict when someone will come at a certain day and time. How does that sound?"

"That would be helpful," James said. "That way I can plan and make sure I'm not out when people stop by.

"Wonderful. I wish I could take credit for the idea, but it was actually Evaline who suggested it," Oliver said. "Thoughtful, isn't she?"

James nodded.

So she wanted a schedule. Something he could count on. He wasn't sure how that would serve her apart from having a more organized way to send people to him, but he knew how it would serve him. He could make sure he was ready for them.

"Very much so," James said with a nod. "So, have you nailed down a schedule yet, then?"

"Not yet. But it should be ready by next week. Do you have a preference on who will visit you first?"

"Not in particular," James said casually and relaxed.

Oliver nodded. "You'll get all the details next week, then," he said, then reached for his bag draped to his side. "Speaking of which, I thought I'd return this to you."

He pulled out the folded clothes Evaline wore when she left next week, as well as his shoes.

"Ah," James said, taking them from Oliver's hands and setting them down on his bed. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome," he said with a warm smile as he brushed down his bag. "I take it she visited last week?"

James nodded. It wasn't like he could just avoid that.

"Yes, she brought me home after your party," he said.

Oliver nodded again and let out a small "ah", pausing in thought. James wondered if he was putting the pieces together. Connecting the dots from the implication with her clothes. Likely drawing the wrong conclusions.

"It was a bit of a last minute thing," he said. "Mel was originally going to take me, but she was staying back later, and I was ready to go... when Evaline got here she was tired of walking around in heels so I let her borrow a change of clothes."

"Makes perfect sense," Oliver said with a small smile. "You don't have to justify your reasonings with me. I worry about her sometimes, so I am very glad that she's taken a liking to you. That doesn't surprise me, though, since she's always found past cultures interesting, and you are a living relic of it."

"That's... probably the first time I've been called a living relic," James said with a little laugh.

Oliver mimicked the laugh, shaking his head in amusement. "My words, not hers, so you know," he said with a smile.

He kept going before James could change the subject.

"But I do apologize if her company is too burdensome for you. I've known her for a very long time, and she has had a rough upbringing, which explains some of her cold behavior." He sighed. "The sectors may have abandoned her now, but I want her to realize that she has a supportive network here who will help her. I've been trying to help, but there's only so much I can do... But if the information I pass to you helps you help her, then I am happy with that."

"I'm... not sure what you mean," James said, looking to Oliver with a raised brow.

He had a feeling he knew what Oliver meant, but he'd rather hear it said more directly. It sounded like--

"I think she just needs a friend," Oliver said with a gentle smile. "Someone to look after her. Could you do that?"

That was what James thought. There was poetic irony in the fact that Oliver was asking him to do this now, after their last conversation.

"Well..." James said with a sigh, shrugging slightly. "I wouldn't really be doing anything different, so sure."

It didn't matter if Oliver knew how often Evaline did or didn't come by anymore, if she did come at all.

"That's perfect as is," he said. "I'd suggest to add her on the calendar for your visits, but..." He let out a small laugh. "There's no controlling Evaline."

James smiled and nodded like he understood, and they were sharing a fond memory of a mutual friend.

"That is very true," he said.

"I'll encourage her to visit more, though. I think it'll be good for her."

James forced a small smilem and he nodded slightly.

"Ah, I do have one last thing for you. A small gift," Oliver continued as he pulled another item out of his bag.

It was a small black rectangular box with a button and an antenna.

"It's a radio transceiver," he said. "Are you familiar with it?"

James looked at it with curiosity, raising his brows.

"Not familiar," he said. "Though I've heard that it's your main form of long-distance communication out here."

"That's right," Oliver said. "You simply press the button to talk, and dial the knob to tune into a channel. I've already set it to my channel, so if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to radio me. I'll always have it on."

James took the radio, looking it over. Press the button, turn the knob to tune into the channel. It sounded like what Evaline had described to him, he just hadn't been able to envision it before. He noted where the dial was set to for Oliver's channel.

He hummed, turning it over in his hand a few times.

"Good to know," he said. "Thank you for this. Is there anything else I should know about how it works?"

"That's it. It's as simple as that," Oliver said with a small smile. "I hope between this and the schedule, you will have a more reliable structure in Terra."

"I appreciate it, Oliver," James said with a nod. "It's helpful."

Though in honesty, he was beginning to wonder what all of the "check-ups" were really for. He was being monitored. Managed. Watched. He was a "high priority case," not just a farmer.

"It's my pleasure to help. Now, is there anything else I can do for you while I am here? Anything I should know or can help with?"

James shook his head.

"No," James said. "But -- do you need anything? Water? Food? Before you go?" he offered.

Oliver let out a small chuckle. "I'm quite okay, but thank you for offering." He briefly paused, glancing at the door. "Although, I do have one question I was hoping you could answer. I hope this doesn't come across as insensitive, but depending on your answer, I may be able to help you if needed."

"Alright," James said. "What is it?"

"Your power," he said. "Does it translate to the current present?"

James tilted his head slightly to the side.

"I'm not sure what you mean by... translate to the present," he said in genuine confusion.

"I suppose I am wondering if your power is still fully functional here in the future," Oliver said gently. "That's all."

"Ah," James said with a small nod. "Well, I'm not sure I can say. I haven't really seen anything since I've arrived here. At least... not yet."

"I see," Oliver mused. "So you have been unable to use your power over the past month?"

James really wasn't sure where this was leading. He didn't know what answer would be better or worse to give, but it seemed like the safer route to avoid less questions was just to say--

"No," James said quietly, looking down to the floor like the fact was distressing, and even like he was a bit ashamed.

Of course, he was feeling none of those things in actuality.

Oliver seemed to pick on his expression, watching him carefully in thought.

"I am sorry to hear that," he said. "If you would enlighten me about how the mechanics of your power used to work, perhaps I may be of help."

James hoped Oliver didn't press for too many details.

"Well... the visions I get, I usually see in dreams," he said. "I don't think I've ever had one while awake. And normally, I'm seeing through someone else's eyes. It's not like I'm looking on as a third party. It's like... I'm in it, if that makes sense. But I'm not me, it's... whoever is involved."

"That is fascinating," Oliver said, truly looking interested. "Do you have any control over what you see?"

James shook his head. "Not really. It seems to be dictacted by whatever perspective of the person I'm seeing it through. It's like I'm just an observer, inhabiting their body for that moment of... time. Or memory. I don't really know the right words to explain it."

Oliver nodded slowly, his gaze landing on the window, looking like he was focused on something outside.

"Time powers evolved from memory powers, and it is interesting to hear that you have a combination of the two," he said. "You really are a living relic of the past."

"I hope that's... not a bad thing," James said quietly.

Oliver chuckled. "No. Not at all. I think it's quite extraordinary. When you inhabit as an observer, is it merely an observation, or is it like you are the observer?"

"It's hard to say," he said. "I don't experience their thoughts or emotions, if that's what you mean, but if, say, something were to happen to their body, like, they got patted on the shoulder. I would feel it."

"I see," he continued on, then finally tore his gaze away from the window. "Perhaps it would help if you have more focus, and you go to sleep with a clearer mind since you experience it in dreams. Have you been sleeping alright this past month?"

James shrugged with a non-committal sort of pout.

"I don't sleep very well in general," he said.

"Insomnia?"

James hummed in a high pitch, looking off to the side before he nodded with a small sigh.

"Yes," he said. "Had it as long as I can remember."

"I'm sure it doesn't help that you are in a new environment, too," Oliver continued. "Why don't I have the person coming in next week bring you some sleep medicine? Would that help?"

"I've never taken medication for sleep," James said, which wasn't exactly true, but it wasn't like it mattered. He wasn't exactly telling Oliver full truths anyway. "So I'm not sure..."

Oliver smiled and reached out to pat his back for consolation. "I'll give you a month's supply, and afterwards we can reevaluate whether it is effective or not. Does that sound good with you?"

A month's supply. Would they be expecting him to take it every day? That was physical evidence he'd have to deal with, but it wasn't like he could just back out. Any reasonable person with sleep issues would be willing to try this, right? If he didn't he'd probably just sound paranoid.

"I'll give it a try," James said.

"I'm glad to hear that," Oliver continued, then glanced at the window one more time. "Perhaps your dreams will reawaken with help from the medicine. To test it, why don't you try to focus on the two moments in time that Evaline went back right here on your farm? Perhaps the closer proximity will help."

James looked over to Oliver.

"She's... gone back in time here?" he asked.

"That's right," he said. "It's nothing major. Comical, really. But see if you can focus on those two moments, and I'll check in next month on your progress. If you're able to verify what she did, then we know this is the step in the right direction."

James wasn't sure if he'd already dreamed of it. What were the two things Oliver was referring to? Maybe he was talking about the mosquito? But he had no reference for when that was. It could've been before he came to Earth.

"Okay," he said.

A month. He had to figure out what to tell Oliver in a month. That gave him time, right?

"Great," Oliver said, finally headed towards the door. "I am glad we had this conversation, James. Things are looking up for you in your new life."

"I sure hope so," James said. "Thanks again for coming by."

"It's my pleasure," he said as she opened the door. "Anything else before I leave?"

"I don't think so," James said.

Oliver smiled at him and nodded his head towards him. "I'll be off, then. Have a good rest of the day."

"You too, Oliver."

And with that, Oliver left the cottage and headed for his car. He lifted his arm for a simple wave to James before he hopped in and drove away. He was gone.

James watched as Oliver disappeared down the road.

If people were going to keep giving him gifts... the next thing he wanted to ask for were maps.

Just in case.

The next week was far less eventful. After Oliver left James hid Josie's Daisy painting away. It wasn't like he was probably ever going to see Josie again, anyway. It wasn't that he was going to forget her, but he knew she'd never know. It didn't matter.

Over the next week, he read a lot. He read through all of his books actually, at least once-through. But he was especially diligent with the wilderness book - specifically to pick up on any differences between Earth and Nye (if there were any of significance) and the series on the dead language of French.

After making it through the first book in the series, he realized that he actually had a point of reference for the language. One of the casettes that Mel had given him had a song sung in French. It was a love song, but it was all he had that he could listen to in order to hear what it sounded like from a native speaker.

As he practiced the language to himself, he ended up listneing to the song on repeat throughout the week, and he found himself able to translate it by the end of it.

It was a love song.



And like anything that you listened to repeatedly, the song ended up getting stuck in his head. He found himself subconsciously humming it as he worked the fields - which were half grown, now, full of potatoes and carrots on their way to full maturity. It was satisfying to see their progress, but the weather was getting cooler. At night, he started to cover them with tarps to make sure the cold didn't eat away at them.

About halfway through the week, he finally finished his rocking chair and set it up on his front porch. It was, in his opinion, probably his best work - and even Isabel told him so when she came by. She visited almost every day at least once to stop by and say hello, but a few times they would go over to each other's houses to share meals, or they would go for a ride, or he would help her out with something on her farm.

And, of course, he ended up singing more songs with her. About beans.

It wasn't until Sunday, at noon, that someone besides Isabel (or Josiah, who would still stop by quietly, now, in the mornings) came by. He recognized Mel's car this time, and stepped out on his porch to wave to her.

"Hey hey hey!" she said when she got out of the vehicle, carrying a small box.

Although it was a chillier than normal day, it looked like she was practically dressed for winter with thick pants and a jacket, as well as a few layers. Her hair bounced around her as she waved and walked up to his steps.

"Miss me?" she said with a smile, standing in front of him with the box at her hip.

"Ehhhhh, maybe a little," James teased. "What do you have there?" he asked, walking up to her and glancing down at the box.

"Is your stomach asking? I think your stomach is asking, 'cause the first thing I'm going to pull out is our lunch," she said with a smirk.

James patted his stomach. "Perfect. I'm always ready," he joked. He nodded his head towards the cottage and she followed him inside, but not before glancing at the rocking chair.

"I like your rocking chair," she commented. "Now you can sit and watch the sunset like a true old man."

"I'm living the dream," James said with sarcasm and a smirk as he held the door open for her.

"You sure are," Mel said with the smirk still in her face as she headed for the table, setting the box down, along with her jacket. "I made some bread for us, and some stuffed buns. And I made you extra so I don't have to give you my half this time."

She pulled out a bigger container from the box, revealing thick buns that looked like it may have some kind of bean paste in it, judging from where it overflowed from the side. She then pulled out a thin loaf of bread in some cloth and set it down beside the food.

"You can always keep whatever we don't eat, though," she added.

"This looks beatiful," James said.

Yes, he didn't care about food that much. Yes, he knew he had poor eating habits. But the smell was enticing, and it wasn't like he had fresh baked bread often.

Mel pointed at one bun that had a flower design baked on top, and another with a smiley face.

"These ones are for you," she said as she served them to him. "Because you're a smiley, flowery man."

James let out a quick: "Ha," and smiled, but it was laced with just a little sarcasm. He picked up the bun with the smiley face. "You're never one to forget a joke, are you."

Mel giggled. "What's that one joke you told me our first day together? You absorb info from the air or something? Maybe I absorb your jokes from the air."

"And I absorb food," James said, taking a bite, continuing to talk through chewing. "You should try it too."

Mel took a hefty bite, and copying his lack of manners, said with a full mouth, "If you say so."

James smiled a little with a closed mouth and cheeks full of food, but he let some silence pass as they both ate. As usual, he ate quickly, but he had more food. At his pace, though, they both managed to finish at just about the same time.

Mel brushed off the crumbs from the table into the container and then packed it away.

"Mmkay," she said when they both were clearly done eating. "Should I go through the rest of these items first?"

"Sure," James said, brushing some crumbs that got on his shirt. "What else do you have in the box?"

"Oliver told me to give all this to you, and I haven't unpackaged it, because I'm not nosy," Mel said as she pulled the first small boxed item out. It was hard to tell if she was joking or not.

"Here you go," she said as she handed it to him.

James took the box and looked at Mel, then back at the box. With the box turned towards him, he opened it. It looked like a small container, not quite made of glass, but he could see inside it. There were five pills in little sectioned off portions of the container, and they had dates on them. Scheduled medication.

"Huh," Mel said as she leaned over to stare at it. "Makes sense why Oliver told me to make sure you 'took one a week', now,"

James hummed, reading the first date. It was scheduled for today. He assumed he'd take them before he slept. That made sense.

"I'll take it later tonight," he said, not sure if he would as he took the pill container out of the box.

"Is that for sleep?" Mel asked as she squinted at the pills. "Looks like weekly sleep pills."

"Yes, it's for sleep," James said flatly.

"Oooooh," she said. "Then you can take it whenever. You just have to take it at the same time and day every week."

"The same exact time?" James asked with a raised brow.

"I mean, not the exact time," Mel said like it was obvious. "Just close enough. Why not take it now since people making sure you're alive and all of it is part of your routine anyways?"

"Is that why people come to check on me? To make sure I'm 'still alive?'" he asked, flipping the pill box over in his hand, hearing to them clatter inside it.

Although they were joking around and being sarcastic earlier, Mel seemed to be a bit more serious with her next words.

"I think we just want to make sure you're settled in okay, and that you have someone to talk to every week. We're just here to help," she said.

So it was out of courtesy. James flicked his eyes between the pill and Mel. He didn't know the effects that the pill would have on him.

"Is there anything I should know before I take it?" he asked, opening the lid and picking out the pill from the first marked section.

"I've never taken weekly sleeping pills before, but I know people who have," she said first as a disclaimer. "It basically makes you feel super drowsy at a certain hour. I want to say an hour or two after sundown? Basically starts sometime at night, and it's fairly consistent. You'll feel that way for about eight hours, I think. And it lasts all week."

"So... do I need to take it with anything or can I just--" he motioned that he was about to toss it in his mouth.

Mel stared at him like he just said something completely irrational.

"Are you crazy?" she said. "Drink it with water. Don't dry swallow. Gosh. Ow."

"Okay, okay, okay," James said defensively as he reached for his glass on the table. "I'll do that then."

He tossed the pill in his mouth, and then took a sip of water, swallowing.

He hoped the pills were actually for sleep, and not something else. He had no reason to believe they would be anything else, but there was still a voice in his head that told him it might not be what they were saying it was.

Mel clapped her hands. "Yay. Now you'll have a good night's sleep."

"That's what I'm hoping."

"Okay, okay, next item," Mel murmured as she picked out the next item in the box. "I mean. I guess that's it."

She placed it on the table, revealing a sheet of paper that listed days, times, and people visiting. The names were in the following order: Mel, Hendrik, Zameer/Tula/Katya, Malkiel, and Alistair. They were all listed on Sundays at noon.

"Hm, will you look at that, that's me," she said as she pointed at her name first on the list with today's date.

"Right on time," James said as he slid the list closer to him, looking it over. He noticed Evaline wasn't listed. He expected as much.

"List of people visiting, huh?" Mel thought out loud, watching him. "Excited to see them?"

James hummed, looking over the list.

"Alistair, yes," he said.

Mel laughed. "You're excited to see Alistair?" she said like it was unbelievable.

"Yes," he said casually. "We really hit it off at the party. Sat on a bench in silence for thirty minutes. It was a great time."

Mel giggled and shook her head. "Okay, never mind, now I can see why you'd like him. But I bet you he'd be annoyed he has to come all the way to Terra just to sit in silence next to you."

"Well, I don't think we'll do that again," James said. "I don't know. I hardly know him. We'll see."

Mel squinted her eyes at him and smiled in amusement.

"Alistair and I go way back," she said. "I can see him being your friend."

"Maybe that's why we hit it off so well," James said with a straight face. He wasn't entirely joking.

"Yeah, in silence," she replied, half-rolling her eyes and smiling.

"I meant you and me," he said, looking up at her and meeting her eyes.

Mel blinked, maintaining eye contact.

"Like, I'm friends with him, so that's why I'm friends with you?" she asked.

"It's just a theory," James said with a slight smirk.

Mel hummed. "You know Evaline was also friends with him too, right? Not as good friends as I was, but... still."

James only nodded. He didn't really know what Mel was getting at, unless she was just trying to drag Evaline into the conversation.

"So anyways," she said, drawing out the words as she drummed her fingers along the table. "Long day, huh?"

James pursed his lips and glanced out the window.

"Not really. You?"

"Hmm. I do have all day," she said casually.

He could tell she was waiting for him to be the first one to crack.

"I see," James said, leaning forward on the table. He brought both hands together under his chin. "All day just for me. I feel special."

Mel copied his movement, staring at him as she placed one elbow on the table, leaning her head against the side of her head.

"Mmmhmm. What should we do?" she continued.

James hummed, staring over at her. "That's a great question. How do you feel about farmwork?"

Mel narrowed her eyes at him. He did the same, but had the ghost of a smile. They were staring at each other for at least a minute.

Finally, Mel groaned and dropped her hand and piercing eye contact.

"Okay, let's cut the bullshit," she said with no more hints of playfulness. "Did you read her journal?"

"No," James said firmly, letting the sarcasm fall away as well. "It wasn't mine to read."

"So you just ignored it," she said flatly.

"I'm not going to read through someone's personal journal," James said. "It's an invasion of privacy."

"Okay, that's fair, and that's why I haven't read it either. But it involved you. Doesn't it bother you at all?"

"That she might've written about me?" James asked. "It's none of my business what she writes in that journal. When and if she ever wants to share it I'll let her do it on her terms, to my face. Not behind her back."

Although Mel seemed adamant that he see the journal, this answer seemed to appease her.

"Why are you even here?" she asked with obvious suspicion, leaning forward. "Why come back at all? Do you want something?"

"No," James said. "And I didn't mean to 'come back.' I think there's some major holes in whatever version of my story that you know."

Mel stubbornly crossed her legs and her arms as she stared at him.

"Tell me your version, then," she said.

"You said you would answer my questions," James retorted. "You tell me yours first. Then at least I don't have to repeat myself."

"How do I know you just won't add on to what I say so that you make yourself sound less like the bad guy?" she countered.

"I don't know," James said, raising his brows, challenging her. "I guess you'll just have to trust me."

Mel narrowed her eyes at him again.

"...Okay, fine," she said. "But answer one question from me first. And then I'll tell you what she told me."

James waved his hand out in front of him.

"Let it out," he said.

"You said I can trust you," she began. "But how can I trust you if Evaline shouldn't have trusted your word that you wouldn't leave her?"

James stared at her, making no expression or sound for a solid two seconds before he took in a deep breath.

"You know what?" he said. "We don't have to have this conversation if you don't want to. I'm not going to make a case for myself to you."

"I do want to have this conversation," Mel continued stubbornly. "But I can't if you keep ignoring it."

"Ignoring what, exactly?" James retorted.

"All of it!" she barked. "I'm toying with you because you're toying with Evaline. Stop it."

"Toying with--" James said quickly, but cut himself short.

"You've caused her enough harm, and I don't like that you're back pretending that you're not going to do it again," Mel continued, talking over him. "So, how do I even know that you won't lie to me too? I'm trying to get the truth out of you. But now I just don't know."

"Mel," James said cooly. "If you think I'm here to try and mess with Evaline's head, or that I'm here with the explicit intent to hurt her then you have severely misunderstood me. I appreciate that you're here to look out for your friend, and I believe that you should, but I would not for one second think of hurting Evaline. Not on purpose."

Mel was studying him like she was trying to decipher if he was telling the truth or not.

"It's just hard to believe," she said, voice steady. "You ran into her, got into a relationship, she said she loved you, and then you left her after you found out who she was? Like, c'mon, James. Why are you back? You've gotta understand why I have my eye on you, especially since she doesn't remember."

So that was the story she'd told Mel. Considering that she hadn't forgiven him, maybe that really wasn't the far from the truth.

"Yes, I understand," he said calmly. "But one thing you don't understand is that I didn't choose to come here."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she continued sharply. "And don't tell me you're from the past. That's obviously not true."

"You're right," he said snippily. "It's not. But the truth is harder to believe than that."

Mel uncrossed her arms, setting one elbow on the table. She sighed.

"Okay. I'm listening. What?"

"If you laugh, this conversation is over," James warned. He was serious.

"Okaaay," she drew out. "No jokes, got it. Just tell me."

James took in a slow breath, and looked away from Mel, but kept watch on her from the corner of his eye.

"I'm from another world," he said. "Another planet entirely."

Mel was staring at him, expression unchanged.

"...Are you saying you're an alien?" she said flatly, like she was annoyed that he was saying a joke after he said no jokes.

"I'm being serious, Mel," he shot back. "The world I come from is called Nye. I didn't come here on purpose. I woke up here, and I don't know how I came here. If you think I'm crazy, we can stop the conversation now, because it's not worth it."

Mel was quiet for a moment, and her face softened as she looked away in thought.

"I don't get it," she said. "Then... if you're from a different planet... Nye... then how did you meet...?" She trailed off before she could finish.

"Five years ago," James said. "Evaline woke up on Nye with a similiar story. No idea how she'd gotten there, and no means to get home. I was the first person she met, and the only one who heard her out when she said she was from another planet."

Mel rubbed her face, looking like she was trying to get her thoughts together.

"Okay. So. You're not from the past, or the ungoverned lands. You're from a totally new, totally different planet in the sky, and that's why you said, like, the stars were different and stuff? And... you met Evaline there too. For some reason. How did this even happen?"

"That's a great question," James said. "We still don't know the answer to that question. If you wanted my answer, I would tell you it's magic, but I don't think any of you believe in that here."

Mel looked like she was about to laugh, but then stopped herself, like she remembered his earlier warning.

"I mean, yeah, you might as well say it's magic since it's not possible. But you don't seem like the type of guy to tell me impossible things," she said, still squinting at him. "Are you telling the truth? You don't know how traveling to another world happened -- it just did?"

"Mel," James said, leaning forward on the table and looking directly into her eyes. He smiled, but he didn't show teeth, and it didn't meet his eyes.

"I know you don't know me that well, but I'm not the type of person to spin up impossible stories if all it will do is paint me as insane. I'm taking a calculated risk telling you all of this because Evaline said you were trustworthy, and I want to trust her word on that. So the answer is no. I have no idea how I've traveled to this world, but I can assure you that it is foreign. It is not my home. I've had to learn everything I know about this place by building from the ground up. I did not come here by my own will, and I did not come here to ruin Evaline's life, or the council, or whatever else you all have going on as you save refugees. I'm just trying to stay out of it and keep my head down because frankly, the day I came here, I had no idea what the hell was going on."

The whole time he spoke, he didn't break eye contact.

Mel was watching patiently, keeping her eyes on his. The doubt slowly started to melt away.

She was believing him.

"Okay," she said, voice calm. "So. Tell me your story, then. I'm listening."

James took in a deep breath and leaned back away from her, setting his hands together on the table as he met her eyes again, but with much less intensity.

"When Evaline found herself on Nye," James said. "She woke up with a note. It was a cryptic poem, and it didn't clearly reveal any motive or reason for her being there, nor any means to return home. When she met me, it was in the middle of the Nye forests. I was camping far out in the wilderness because I was being hunted. In Nye, I am a wanted man. Wanted for treason to a kingdom that I used to serve."

"Treason?" Mel interrupted before he could go on. "For what?"

"I sabotaged a plan the king was concocting to create magically powered super-soldiers by destroying materials needed to do so, and in the process burned all of the bridges I'd built in the palace from when I'd served as a soldier," James said quickly, summarizing it as succinctly as possible. "Can I keep going now?"

"Wait wait wait wait wait," Mel said quickly. "You were a soldier working for the government, and prevented their... military from happening? Is that right?"

"They already had an established military," James corrected. "I was in it. I simply prevented them from unethically experimenting on children to create super-powered soldiers. Is that clear?"

He was trying to use language she would understand. Super-powered seemed to be something she would grasp more than explaining what mages were. He didn't want to get into that at the moment.

Mel looked like she wanted to comment on that further, but then thought better of it.

"Okay. Yes. Go on," she said.

"Great," he said. "So I was wanted. As I took Evaline under my wing, assuming she was lost in the wilderness for reasons she wouldn't disclose, she eventually told me her situation, and I told her mine. My wanted status put her in danger by association with me, but her being from another world meant she was vulnerable in a completely foreign environment that she didn't fully understand. We decided it made most sense for her to stay with me and travel with me, seeing as it was highly unlikely anyone else would believe her story. For four months, she was in Nye. We ran into many different dangers. Some were natural, from living in the wilderness and lawless areas. Some were because of bounty hunters catching up to us, with intent to capture me. We survived, and the shared experiences brought us closer. Yes, we did get into a relationship, but that ended when I broke a promise, and she magically was taken home. She disappeared in an instant."

He stopped, and fanned both of his hands to the side.

"There. That's the gist of it," he said.

"Wow, uh. That was a lot," she said. "Have you been... sitting on that summary for me?"

"Yes," James said flatly.

"...I appreciate it," she said with a softer voice. "Thank you for trusting me. I... believe you." She paused. "But I have, like, a million questions."

"Evaline said you would," James muttered dismissively.

"So she knows that you'd tell me?" Mel asked first.

"Yes," James said. "We discussed it before."

Mel scrunched her brows together, cupping her face with one hand as she leaned on the table.

"Why do you think she didn't tell me that version then? Why make up a loose story about you being from the ungoverned lands?"

She sighed.

"I mean, I see some similiarities. A lot of similarities. But... still."

"Would you really have believed her if she told you she was on another planet for four months when only a day had passed here on earth?" James asked, raising an eyebrow. "Be honest."

"You're saying that four months passed normally for you, but when she magically got sent home, she woke up like... it was a dream?"

"Yes," James answered.

Mel paused in thought again. "I don't think it's whether I believe her or not," she said softly. "But whether she believed it herself."

"It was probably both," James said quietly.

"I believe you," Mel said defensively. "I would have believed Evaline if she'd have told me. She just didn't."

"Well... sorry that you're finding out five years after the fact," James said, though he sounded more tired than sorry.

Mel sighed. "That's... yeah. Okay. Not important right now. So - let's start at the beginning from that looong summary," she said.

"I like nutshelling," he interrupted as a small quip.

"Mmmhmm. So, she traveled with you because you were wanted by your government, and she was from another world," she said. "Mutual interests and all. Right?"

"Yes," he said, nodding. He leaned back in the bench a little and leaned on the table with one arm.

"You do realize that it's uncannily similar to what it is right now, right?"

"What what is?" he asked. "Me, being here on Earth?"

"Yeah," she said. "When she was in Nye, she was in a foreign land and you helped her out despite your status with the government. And now you're on Earth, in a foreign land, with Evaline helping you out despite her status with the government. Don't you think that has to be related somehow?"

"If you're going to point out all of the uncanny similiarities between us," James said, twirling his finger in the air for a second. "I can tell you I've probably already noticed it."

Mel looked like she repressed a smirk.

"Fair enough," she said, shrugging. "So you ran into bounty hunters and other dangers. How... was that?"

He could tell she was purposefully asking a vague question.

James looked at her, blinking slowly.

"...Hard?" he said.

"Yeah, I bet," Mel said casually. "So, like, she probably went back in time to save your butt, didn't she?"

James blinked again.

"Yes," James said.

"So is that what you mean when you said the trauma brought you closer?"

"I didn't say trauma," James said. "But that's part of it. Yes."

Mel hummed. "What's the other part?"

"Oh, I don't know," James said with a slight roll of his eyes. "Traveling together all of the time, seeing each other all hours of the day, talking, getting to know each other gradually, those sort of things."

Mel was still leaning her head on her hand, and she smiled warmly as she looked up at him.

"Awww," she said with no other comment.

James sighed, and did another eyeroll.

"So it was a long four months, huh," she mused. "What else happened besides, ya know, dangers and talking and traveling?"

"No offense, Mel," James said. "But frankly, I don't think all of it is your business to know."

She pursed her lips. "You know she told me some things, right?"

"Maybe it's your turn to do some sharing, then," James countered.

Mel grinned. "I mean, there were a lot of holes in her story, so it would be sort of nice to get confirmation, huh."

"Tell me the story first and maybe then I'll fill the holes," James said cooly.

She badly repressed a smirk. "Sure. Okay. She told me that while you both were traveling, you ran into a traditional community in the ungoverned lands. Like, the old fashioned ones who were there for forever and were really protective of their camp. But apparently they thought you were like, one of the tribal people, which -- well, anyways. They basically didn't like you, but they didn't recognize Evaline and adored her. She told me she could have stayed with them, but didn't because she wanted to keep traveling with you."

James let out long sigh.

"Something similiar happened on Nye. She just changed details to make it fit into--" he twirled his hand in the air. "You know. Earth."

Mel hummed again, a bit too cheerily. "So the story is true," she said like it was a question, but it came out more of a statement.

"We ran into a group of people in our travels, yes," he said. "But the reason they didn't like me is because I'm a wanted criminal. They did offer for her to stay, but I was not extended the same invitation. So, yes."

Mel's smile grew. "So you did dance with her there," she said, almost smugly.

James rolled his eyes again, and looked to the side.

"Yes," James said, leaving it at that.

"She also said that the entire experience brought you especially closer," she continued to lightly tease. "Is that true too?"

"Mel, do you really have to do that?" James asked wearily.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said victoriously, but still stared at him for confirmation. James only stared back at her with half-lidded eyes.

Mel giggled and shook her head, finally moving on.

"She also told me of the first time you guys held hands," she said in a faraway voice, like she was recalling his experience as her own. "You were traveling the deserts and watched the sunset at a plateau. I remember her telling me that she liked how she didn't have to ask you. It just happened."

James had to actively block out the memory as Mel described it.

"Mel, I don't see how talking about this is necessary," he said quietly. "We're not together anymore."

She dropped her hand and sat up straighter, immediately looking sorry.

"I'm sorry," she said gently. "That was really insensitive. She... honestly, she didn't say anything negative about you, so there's only so much I can share. She didn't even go into specifics about the dangers you mentioned. Maybe because she didn't know how to spin it to being on Earth. I don't know."

"It might be that," James said with a sigh. "I don't know."

Mel was quiet for a moment.

"Okay. There's one more big story she mentioned, but you don't have to go into detail if you don't want to," she said. "She mentioned another traditional community you both ran into where your relationship became official. Did that happen? She told me it happened when you were sick, so... that's oddly specific."

James took in another deep breath and looked down at the table.

"Yes," he said. "That happened. I'd gotten sick at the time."

Mel nodded. "Okay," she said softly. "It seems our stories line up, except they take part in different places." She paused. "I just... have two more questions, really."

James waved his hand at her dismissively, as if to say "out with it."

"Three questions," she said instead, like she just thought of one on the spot. "First one: what's this cryptic note thing you were telling me about earlier? Did you ever figure out what it meant?"

James glanced up at her, but looked back down at the table.

"You did have a choice from the start, on how and when and where to part. But this fate rests in both your hands, as one you must share the desire. For two hearts joined, this spell requires," he quoted. "That was the last verse. It meant that we both had to wish her back. We both had to want it."

Mel paused in thought. "So that's what you meant by magically sending her back," she said.

"Yes."

"So she left you," she said. "She left Nye. It wasn't the other way around of you leaving her."

"I had to wish her gone to let her go," he said, his voice steady.

"Did you wish that first?" she asked gently. "Did you want her to go?"

"Mel, it really doesn't matter," he said. "I told her I wouldn't leave her. By wishing her away, I did."

"That was your promise," she said softly. "You promised you wouldn't leave her, but you broke it by wishing her away."

"That's what I said," he said sharply.

Mel looked down at the table. "Second question," she said. "Did you love her?"

James's brows furrowed together tightly, and he stared down into his lap.

"Of course I did," he said, keeping his tone and volume even.

"Third and final question," Mel began again. "Then why did you send her away?"

James finally looked up at Mel and met her eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, carefully controlling his voice so that he didn't sound as desperate as he felt.

"...Alright," she said, not fighting him on this. "Would it help if I talk about the parallel she told me? Or would you rather not?"

James didn't want to hear the parallel. Not really. But part of him wanted to know what Evaline said from her point of view, even if it was twisted to fit her version of the story on Earth.

"Fine," was all he said.

"Obviously everything she told me has been a parallel to the truth. So stop me if this gets too hard for you. I don't mind," she began.

"Evaline told me that she met you when she was running away from the war, and it was a tough for the first several months because she was trying to get to the safe zone. But then she met you, and everything changed. She also told me that she was with you for four months, but she skimmed over all the dangers. She told me that you helped her feel something again, and she was ready to start a new life for herself, and was even going to change her name and all to fit in better. She also told me that you helped her figure out what happiness was, and that was what indicated that she... you know. Why you were together. But after the four months, she told me that you figured out who she really was, and you left. You left because of who she was, but also because you felt like she was too dangerous to be around. She explicitly told me some nasty phrases you called her, but now I'm wondering if any of that is true, or if she just made it all up. But you left, and she couldn't change it no matter how many times she went back to undo it, which only made you more upset."

She took a deep breath.

"That about sums it up."

As Mel continued to talk, James felt like her words were chipping away at pieces of himself, and he leaned more heavily on the table, with both arms in front of him. When she finished, he brought his hands up to hide his face.

"She went back that many times to save me," he said in a whisper.

Mel paused for a while.

"In Nye?" she asked softly.

"In Nye," he echoed, still hiding his face.

"Save you," she said as gently as possible. "Physically? Or you, as in, the relationship? You leaving?"

"I got caught," he said. "A bounty hunter caught up to us, and I got caught."

Mel was quiet for a moment.

"How many times did she go back to save you?" she asked softly.

"I lost track after 100," he said.

Mel was quiet again, longer this time.

"This had happened before," she said quietly. "Before you. And when she got out of it, she was a different person."

She paused.

"You didn't wish for her to leave. She wished to leave, and you blame yourself for agreeing."

James took in a very slow deep breath, peeling away all of the tension that was starting to rise in his body and pushing it back down. He looked up at Mel, who was looking up at him with deep empathy and understanding sadness in her eyes. He couldn't hold her gaze. He looked back down, eyebrows furrowed deeper.

"You don't know what happened," he said defensively.

"I'm so sorry, James," Mel said softly, still holding her gaze. "I'm sorry that happened to you... to you both. I'm sorry I treated you badly. I understand now... it's not your fault at all. It's neither of your faults."

James could feel the tension returning. Pressure was building in his head, behind his eyes.

"She pushes people away at that state, and even now," Mel continued. "I understand, because she pushed me away once, and I also fell for it. And I used to blame myself too, but you have to understand that you did the best you can."

James hadn't realized he'd clenched his fists tightly on the table. When he looked down his knuckles were turning white. He stuck his hands under the table, slowly uncurling his fingers as Mel continued to talk.

"It's hard... It's hard to stay there when she forces you out of her life. I know. I know. We're both trying. And I can see now, even though you didn't choose to come here, that you're trying, too. Trying to still be there, even if she doesn't want you to."

"She'll never forgive me," he spat out.

"Evaline doesn't know how to forgive anyone," Mel said sadly. "And that's not your burden to hold. You can't blame yourself for that."

James looked up at her, meeting her eyes.

"I can never forgive myself either," he said lowly.

Mel's brows were arched upwards as she looked up at him, the sadness empowering the previously empathetic expression.

"No," she said softly at first. "No. If you want to help her, you have to pick yourself up and tell yourself that you'll be there for her, and not break your promise. But you have to first forgive yourself if you want to move on and be there for her. You have to want it for yourself, first. Do you?"

James knew that he couldn't continue this conversation and keep a calm exterior. He could feel the pressure pounding in his head. A few choice words, and he could cry, and by the gods he wasn't going to cry. James slowly stood up, and stepped away from the bench.

"Can I have a moment, please?" he asked.

He heard Mel stand up, but she didn't quite move.

"Would it be okay if I hugged you?" she asked. "I think you need one. And I also know you prefer to be asked first."

James flicked his eyes to her but then looked out past her, trying to keep his neutral expression from cracking.

"Hugs make me feel trapped," he said emptily. For some reason, the truth seemed like the best thing to convince her not to touch him.

"...Okay, I understand," she said softly. "I just... I don't think it's right to leave you alone right now."

James pressed his lips into a thin line as tears were starting to well up in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to push them back. His head was pounding.

"Then can you at least give me the dignitiy of looking away?" he asked.

Mel did as he asked, sitting back on the bench and turning her back towards him, but not before she saw his expression.

"There's nothing undignifying about showing emotion," she said.

James walked over to his couch, plopping down on it before he buried his face in his hands, still desperately trying to fight it.

"Yes there is," he whispered. "When you only ever get used for it."

"I'm not here to use you," she said softly. "We're both here to talk about someone important to us. And it's an emotional subject."

James couldn't reply. His throat was swollen up in knots, and he could feel the big, slow tears dripping down into his palms. He just needed it to stop. He didn't want the conversation to go this way. He sniffed, trying to keep quiet.

And suddenly, out of the blue, Mel changed the topic.

"Evaline and I have been friends since we were twelve," she said. "I joined her group in the class late, and she was apprehensive towards me at first, but we became fast friends. It was nice... for all of us to be friends. There were three of us at first, and then six. And I don't think Evaline felt like she had many friends until we banded together. She was so gentle, and shy, and everyone seemed to like her because she was soft-spoken and cared for others. But they didn't know that she had a spontaneous side, and was even a bit rebellious, and had the loudest laugh ever. Not to mention that she had hilarious quips and blunt humor."

She paused for a moment.

"I was best friends with her, until I wasn't, because she also believed that showing emotions was undignifying," she continued with a shaky breath, like she was also holding back tears. "I lost a friend the day she decided to stop feeling. We both did, because you lost her the day she decided to stop feeling. And I know I don't know you that well, but I don't want to lose another friend the day you decide to stop feeling."

She took another shaky breath.

"Not today. Not ever. It's okay to show emotions. It is."

Her story didn't help. His tears started coming faster, without regard to whether he wanted them to or not. He couldn't push the knot in his throat back down anymore. Everything in his head hurt. His nose was starting to run, and he couldn't hide it in his hands much longer before it would start to drip into them too. He pulled his hands away, with his vision blurry, and he looked over to where Mel was. She was still turned away from him due to his request, leaning forward sitting on one end of the bench with her elbows on her knees and her head buried in her hands, letting the silence pass between them. The vision of her was blurry, but he could make it out just enough.

So they were both crying. She wasn't loud, but he could hear her occasionally sniff.

James tried to blink his tears away, and for a moment, he thought he succeeded. They'd subsided.

But then Mel's last words seemed to hit him.

But I don't want to lose another friend the day you decide to stop feeling.

Did she really think of him as a friend? She cared that much?

"Mel," he said, hearing that his voice was shaky. "You don't even really know me. Why would you even--"

The knot came back to his throat, choking out his last word.

Mel sniffed, and a small laugh escaped her throat, but not because he said anything funny. It was her reaction to things when he said something silly.

"We've both been hurt by someone we love," she said. "Isn't that enough?"

He'd been hurt by many people that he loved.

It wasn't just Evaline.

The sob that worked its way from the back of his throat felt like it wrestled him to finally come out from deep in his gut, and he curled up within himself, as if that might keep it quiet. But it didn't. That made it worse.

"I hear you," Mel said through another louder sniff even though the only noises he made were wordless sobs. "It hurts."

James curled up into a tight ball, tucking his legs up under him as he ducked his head between his arms and legs. He kept trying to muffle his own sobs but they only came back stronger.

Why did everything always have to blow up in his face? Why couldn't he do anything right? No matter how hard he tried, he always ended up hurting people. People always hated him, in the end. Would Mel hate him too? Would she use this against him one day? Would she emotionally blackmail him? Just like Carter, or like Rita? Everyone always wanted something. There was almost always an ulterior motive. He just couldn't figure out what Mel's was. Maybe all of this was to get back at Evaline, by getting to him?

But she seemed so sincere?

Why couldn't he just believe anybody anymore?

It was all his fault. He didn't deserve Mel, or Evaline, or Brett, or Ari, or Adina, or Bella, or Amy, or Larrel--

Names and faces ran through his head until he got to the one of his sister. The image that Evaline had drawn... her face, looking up at him with big eyes that believed every word he said. She'd had no reason to think him a liar.

Everything changed after that day. He'd carved this path for himself.

He was always running. Running from everything that hurt.

Why did magic have to bring him here? Where he couldn't run away so easily? Was that what this was all for?

Or maybe it was to keep him alive, because something in the universe knew he was flirting with death in ways he never had before. Because the universe just couldn't let him off that easy.

It was just like being captured. Held by people who had to keep him just alive enough. It didn't matter how much pain he had to endure as long as he stayed alive and as long as his life had a numerical value. It was all just a game. Death, like a cat chasing a one-legged mouse and playing with its food before it put him out of his misery.

So of course if couldn't let him do it himself. On his own terms.

And of course he'd have another audience for all of the tears. At least it wasn't a room full of council members this time, but maybe that would be better. Maybe it'd be enough to force his mind and body into keeping it all together in the first place.

But why did that matter anymore?

"Why am I here?"

His sobs finally subsided into soft cries.

The muffled words were a barely-audible whisper. He didn't think they could even be understood, literally or figuraritvely. He wasn't just asking about being on Earth.

But it was fine. He didn't want an answer.

But Mel gave him one anyways.

"There's an old saying I once heard: a bird doesn't sing because it has an answer; it sings because it has a song," she said in a soft deep voice, sounding like she had stopped crying.

She paused for a few moments before continuing.

"And I think life is like that too. We all have a song to sing."

Just for a moment, he peered up at her.

She was leaning forward on the table with one hand supporting her head, and the other arm extended out in front of her. There was a small brown bird bouncing and pecking on the table, landing on her palm as it looked up at her. It had to be an illusion.

"The answer to your question is behind our lyrics," she finally finished. "What are yours?"

James didn't know.

His song was a ballad. A tragedy. And up until now he'd always known the inevitable ending. Did earth really change things?

Well, it did if he was stuck here. It did if he couldn't go back.

He sniffed, and wiped his eyes dry. His eyes felt red and his throat was raw. The crying episode had lasted too long, and he hated that he felt worse.

"Drifting onto foreign shores," he said, his voice hoarse. "You hope to find a key. But it is lost, for it is tossed, below into the sea."

Those were the lyrics chosen for him. He didn't know what they meant.

There was a slight paused before he added: "That's the second note."

He could tell that Mel probably had a lot of questions running through her mind. She had asked so many earlier, and he hadn't yet revealed that there was a second note until now. He hadn't even mentioned the other two verses of the first note.

But instead of asking any questions, she brought the fake bird perched on her finger close to her face and said, "Your song sounds unfinished."

James was quiet for a moment.

"I know."

"Well?" she said after a long pause. "Aren't you going to finish it?"

"I'm not the one who wrote it. The note, I mean. The verses just... appear," James said.

He knew she wasn't just talking about the note. He didn't want to talk about his own "song."

Mel was still inspecting the bird she concocted on her finger.

"Why do you think that note is your song?" she asked.

"I'm not going to sing you a song," James said.

"I never asked you to."

"I don't think the note is 'my song,'" James said, letting a little bit of exasperation leak into his tone. "I don't -- I don't know what it is. I haven't figured that out, okay?"

Mel was still focused on the illusion she conjured up, looking at the bird with a distant expression as it flapped its wings on her finger.

"Some birds hardly sing at all, and some birds have a reason to sing," she said. "For me, though, I don't believe there's 'one' song. I think it changes everyday."

The bird in her hand suddenly disappeared as she turned slightly towards him so she could meet his eyes. She looked sincere, but serious.

"And if your song today is sad, then that's okay. But it doesn't mean tomorrow's song will be sad, too."

James felt like he was hitting a wall. He used to talk and think like this all of the time - practically in poetry. Metaphors, and figurative language. He knew what Mel was saying but he was tired of talking about life like it was a song. Life was life. A melody could mean anything. Pain, happiness, grief, loss... it was too vague. Too vague to really mean anything if you couldn't pin it down to a person, or a memory, or a moment.

He really didn't feel like explaining that his life was flooded with an underlying theme that never left. Maybe sadness was too generic of a word for it, or maybe it really was that simple.

"I know you're trying to tell me there's hope," James said, his voice low and finally rid of his tears, though it was still a little hoarse. "And that it won't always be like this, or whatever. I don't know how to tell you how many times I've tried to believe that, and things only get worse. I can't just... pick myself up in one day and be better. I only pretend to."

"Maybe you can't pick yourself up because no one is offering a hand," Mel said gently, still keeping her eyes on him, but only to show that she was listening.

"Every hand I've ever taken I've lost," he said.

"So far," she added. "You've lost so far. Your story isn't over yet."

James had to bite back the bitter, desperate rage that tried to claw its way up his throat, seemingly coming out of nowhere. He knew it wasn't Mel's fault. She wasn't even saying anything wrong. He leaned forward with his arms crossed over his knees and looked at the floor, keeping Mel in the corner of his eye.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. He didn't want to say it.

"Sometimes, I want it to be," he said, knowing they were words he couldn't just take back.

Mel paused for a moment, but then slowly stood up and started to walk towards the other side of the couch. She sat down, taking her time to get comfortable as she crossed her legs and looked out at the wall in front of them.

"I'd physically extend my hand towards you, but I don't know if you'd like that," she said with a smile in her voice. "Would it be weird if I made an illusionary one in front of you?"

"That... would be really weird," James admitted.

"Yeah, well, too bad," she said with a huff.

And just like she said, there was an illusionary hand in front of him, but it was only up to the elbow.

"Take the damn hand," she grumbled.

James was not going to take an illusory hand. His hand shot out and grabbed her real hand, gripping it firmly.

"Fine," he grumbled back as the fake hand disappeared.

Mel beamed, but unlike her previous big playful smiles, this one seemed sunny. Hopeful. Happy.

She squeezed his hand gently.

"Evaline was right in saying you could trust me," she said. "So. Thank you for trusting her to trust me. And for being the butt end of my jokes."

James looked down at their hands.

He hoped he didn't regret this. He felt like he said that every time. Every godsdamned time. And here he was... trusting again. He just never learned.

"Well, I have to be useful for something," he mumbled.

"You're useful for eating all my food," she said.

"If you ever have excess, you know where to go."

Mel let out a small giggle. "Terra, or your stomach?"

"Stomach," he said, still looking down at their hands.

"I'll send it straight there next time, then," she said with a smile, not having moved or paying any mind to their hands.

Stiffly, he pulled his hand away from hers. It was different when touch was consensual, nevermind when he initiated it. He pretended to not be bothered by a lot, but when he actually did it on purpose, it was like his entire mind had to constantly work to tell him it was fine.

He brought his hands into his lap, and there was a small pause that passed before he cleared his throat.

"So... I bet you didn't expect our conversation to go in that direction," he said as he straightened up, trying to say it like it was a joke, but his heart wasn't in it.

"Ehhh," Mel said as she slumped back on the couch, sitting casually. "I've had a lot of experiences with helping friends figure out their 'songs,'" she said, emphasizing the last word so he'd know she was still talking in metaphor. "I don't mind."

"How many of them were from different worlds?" he asked.

"Only one," she said with a smile. "Two, if you count one who's traveled to another world."

"Does that mean Evaline's both a time traveler and a world traveler?" James mused.

Mel hummed in thought. "Maybe she can control time and space," she said.

"That... wasn't quite what I meant, but..." James sighed.

Mel still seemed to be lost in her thoughts. "Hey, maybe I'm the key!" she said with a toothy grin. "You came here just so I can help you figure out your song too. Whuddya say?"

James smiled, barely, and it faded as quickly as it came.

"Maybe," he said. "But you didn't happen to crawl out of the ocean, did you?"

Mel sighed. "Don't tell anyone, but I'm actually a very bad swimmer. So, no."

"I don't like the water either," James said. "So, no beach visits for either of us."

"Oh, I don't mind the beach," she corrected. "I just don't like the ocean. Too cold."

"My bad. I meant the ocean. I don't mind sand," James said.

"Is that so?" she mused. "The beach isn't that far from Terra..."

James turned to look at Mel, already knowing she was likely thinking up some way to make a trip to the beach. She turned back and opened her mouth before he could interject.

"Wanna go right now?" she said with a grin.

James blinked. "Right--" he stuttered. "Now?"

"Yeah!" Mel eagerly said as she got up on her feet. "It's a smidge cold, but sand's still sand. Maybe we can collect some shells and put it riiiight..."

She glanced around and then pointed towards his potted plant on a table.

"There!" she said, and she conjured up an image of some shells in a jar next to it, as well as some decorating the soil in the pot. James barely had time to look at it before she dropped her focus and walked back to the table to grab her jacket. "C'mon, let's go!"

James got to his feet, trying to process what was happening.

"Wait - wait I--" he glanced out the window. "I at least need to let Elliot out and make sure he has water if we're going to be gone for a while."

Mel's smile grew. "We can stay there as long as we'd like," she said, but then snapped her fingers. "Oh! Talking about songs just reminded me that I also have more cassette tapes for you. I'll go get them in my car while you take care of Elliot."

James started for the door, hesitantly opening it.

"Okay," he said quietly, almost as a question.

Mel glanced between him and the door, back and forth.

"Okay?" she repeated back, but as a question.

"Yes," he said with a bit more certainty. "I just... didn't expect to be going to the beach today."

"Well, sometimes, James, life takes you by surprise, doesn't it?" Mel said with a grin.

The ride to the beach wasn't that long. James was grateful, though, that he was in a car for it, because on the windy road he was starting to feel a little woozy again. Thankfully, it wasn't as bad as it had been on the bike, and it faded away quickly when they stopped at the edge of a beach, pulling up to where the sand met the edge of the dirt.

When Mel parked the car, she started to bolt towards the sand, wind coursing through her hair. James hesitated for a moment, standing and looking out at the sand and the waves washing up onto the shore. It took him a moment to tell himself to run towards it, following after her.

When he reached her, she was standing on top of a lump of sand a short distance away from the water, taking off her shoes and rolling up her pantlegs. She waited for him to do the same, making endless comments about how the wind was cold and stronger here.

That didn't stop her from getting near the water, though. When she approached it, she let the water lap up to her toes, but then quickly stumbled back, shaking her head and muttering under her breath something along the lines of, "Nope, not today." He had to suppress a laugh, though he felt the same.

It wasn't exactly prime beach weather, especially since it was autumn. But as she previously suggested, she led him down the shore, picking up shells for him to hold. She put some shells in her pocket when he ran out of space.

When there was a long stretch of sand without shells, Mel suddenly kicked some sand towards his chest and then sprinted away, giggling. James managed to block it from getting up into his face, and then smiled mischieviously as the competitive bug bit him.

They both chased each other for a bit, kicking and throwing sand at each other like they were kids. It only ended when some of it got on her hair and she finally admitted defeat, but not without a laugh.

After quite a bit of time, Mel suggested they turn back, and they chatted along the way. It was afternoon now, and the sun was peeking out behind the clouds. She seemed to bask in the sun's rays and comment whenever the clouds went away and the area around them became brighter and warmer. When they finally arrived back to their untouched shoes, they sat on the sand to put it back on, but then stayed there for a while, chatting and joking.

Finally, she suggested they head back since she didn't want him to be away from Elliot too long, but he had a feeling it was just because she got sick of the cold wind. The ride back felt shorter than last time, and his pockets were heavy with shells and remnants of sand.

When they arrived back at the farm, Mel got out of the vehicle and started to brush away some granules of sand that followed, mumbling about how one could never truly get rid of sand. When finished, she stood up straight and closed the door, peering up at him.

"So," she said, hand on her hip. "I can come back more often, assuming you're not sick of me yet."

James looked down at her and softly smiled ever-so-slightly.

"It would be nice to see you more," he said. "This was nice."

"Yeah?" Mel said with a smile. "Spontaneous beach day was a thumbs up?"

James put both of his thumbs up, and smiled just a little more.

Mel hummed in thought. "Do you have a radio? I can get you a radio if you don't have one."

"Oliver came by last week and gave me one," James said. "He said he'd turned it to his channel... I haven't really used it, yet, though. Is there a channel to talk to you as well?"

Mel snorted. "God, do not talk to Oliver for fun. That sounds so boring."

She waved her hand dismissively in front of her and then opened her car door again, rifling through her compartment until she pulled out her own radio. She closed the door again and then walked over to show it to him.

"But yeah, this is mine. We all have our own channels, and I can show you where to turn yours so you can talk to me."

James nodded. "Uh- should I grab mine?"

Mel nodded. "Yeah, let's make sure Oli wasn't desperate enough for your company that he made it a singular channel or something."

James stepped into his cottage, quickly grabbing his radio off the bookshelf, and he came back out, showing it to her.

"He said to just... dial and click the button to talk? That's all?"

Mel nodded, reaching out to dial the knob to a different number. She dialed a different knob on the side afterwards.

"Okay, put it up to your ear," she said.

James nodded, and did so.

Mel smirked, and then brought the radio up to her lips, pressing the button.

"THIS IS HOW YOU USE A RADIO," she said loudly, and the noise coming out of the radio was distorted because of the volume.

Halfway through her phrase, he pulled the radio away from his ear and glared at Mel, unimpressed.

She giggled and then reached over and pointed at the two knobs.

"That one is volume, that one is frequency," she explained. "I've already set the frequency to mine. Do you remember Oliver's? I can write it down for you... unless you, like, never want to talk to him, which I totally respect."

"I remember it," he said. "I'll write both of yours down. Oliver may be painfully polite, but... I don't know. I might talk to him. We'll see."

"Up to you," she said with a shrug, then paused. "Do you want Evaline's?"

James's eyes flicked over to her.

"I... don't know if she'd want me to," he said quietly.

Mel gazed out at the field for a moment. "How about I give it to you, but you don't have to talk?" she asked. "Her radio is almost always off, but every so often she turns it on, and we talk. You could listen... if you want."

"That sounds like eavesdropping," James said, looking between her and the radio.

"She doesn't have a private channel, just a shared one. Everyone can hear it."

"Is everyone's channel open for all to overhear?" James asked.

"Not the one I gave you. I don't know Oliver's private channel, but the knob wasn't set to the open one, so he probably also gave you a private one," she explained. "Makes sense?"

"So... the channel Oliver gave me is private, and the one you gave me for you is private, and Evaline's is open," he summarized. "Is that right?"

"Yep. You learn fast."

She paused for a moment.

"I'd have warned you about Evaline's open channel if you didn't ask. But I thought I'd suggest it anyways in case you want to... I don't know, hear her voice."

James nodded slightly.

"I appreciate it."

Mel let out a small smile but then opened her car door again, leaning forward and shuffling around the compartment. She popped back up a few seconds later and handed him a slip of paper.

"Here, I've written down her frequency," she said. "If you want it."

James took the piece of paper, read the sequence of numbers, and put it in his pocket.

"Thanks," he said.

"Oh! One last thing." She walked back towards him and reached for his radio, pressing a few more buttons before handing it back. "There. Now it's set so that, if you have it on, you'd hear all our channels. You just have to dial it to the right number to talk back. Got it?"

"Okay." James nodded.

"Mine is always turned on unless I'm asleep or busy taking people to spontaneous beach days, so feel free to chat with me any time you want," she said with a smile. "And let me know if you want me to visit." She patted her car's hood. "My home isn't far from here, so I can come even with a day's notice."

James could hear what she was saying.

She didn't want to have to pry things out of him all of the time. She wanted him to reach out to her, and she was giving him a way to do so. Privately.

"Thank you," he said. "Again. For... listening. Believing me. And all of it."

"Psssh," Mel said with another dismissive wave. "No need to thank me. That's what friends are for, right?"

James nodded slightly, and offered a small, timid smile.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess so."

Mel widened her smile, but it started to naturally fade as a small silence passed between them.

"Do you want me to stay longer?" she asked.

"No, it's okay," James said softly. "I just have to do more farmwork. You know... before sundown. You don't have to stick around for that."

Mel looked like she was debating whether she should or not.

"How about I leave you to do your work, and then I'll radio you at night?"

"That... that sounds good," he said.

"Mmmkay," she said with another smile, hesitating for a moment before walking back to the front door of her car. "I left a box of tapes on your table, as well as some leftover bread." She opened the door but paused before hopping in. "I'll talk to you later tonight?"

"As long as the sleep medication doesn't knock me out," James said. He was only joking. He didn't think it would. "Yes."

"Oh, right, I'll radio you before it gets too dark, then," she said. "I won't judge you if you fall asleep talking to me."

"I doubt I will, but thank you for being gracious," James said with a small smirk.

Mel chuckled and then twirled her hand in front of him. "Adieu, James," she said, butchering the French word for farewell.

"Adieu," he echoed, pronouncing it correctly.

She then hopped in her car, started it up, and drove away, waving at him as she bounded down the road, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

So... he had a friend. One who knew the truth - or at least, the gist of it.

He wanted to be comforted by it, but his instinct was to worry. He quickly went to work to bury the anxiety with busyness.

Using the radio for the first time was more underwhelming than James expected. After he got over the strange experience of hearing Mel's disembodied voice through the radio, it was almost like she was there, and he was just closing his eyes so he couldn't see her. He liked to close his eyes and imagine that Mel was there. Actually there.

The conversation wasn't anything as eventful as earlier in the day. They talked about what he did after she left, how Elliot was doing, and what he planned on doing the next day. James appreciated the mild conversation, though.

Like Mel and Oliver had said, the medicine did start to make him drowsy, but it did no more than the tea Evaline had given him before. It made him more relaxed, but it didn't make him fall asleep. Like every other night, he tossed and turned and laid awake for countless hours until he woke up early in the morning, giving up on sleep. The rest of his day went predictably. Josiah drove through with only a brief greeting, Isabel came by around lunch to share some soup she'd made, he continued to work the fields, Elliot was happy, he re-read some books, and listened to another of the tapes Mel had brought him.



He wasn't sure if she'd picked the song with some kind of premonition of how their meeting would go, but he found it ironic that the contents seemed to match many of the messages she was trying to communicate.

He listened to it a few times before sleep started to tug at his eyelids. The drowsiness came more heavily this time, and he decided to follow the pull of it. He turned off the music, laid down, and found himself drifting. His sleep was still fitful, but he felt like, for the first time in a long time... maybe he was sleeping deeply? Almost deeply?

As sleep overtook him, he started to hear voices. They sounded fuzzy and muddled, like the faint static of the radio when he'd accidentally turned the dial just a little too far to the side. He caught glimpses of faces, but none that he recognized. He tried to remember them, but they came and went so fast he could hardly recognize any notable features. Despite his desire to decipher what it was he was seeing, he couldn't seem to get any clarity.

The dream lingered throughout his mind the rest of the day, but it didn't make any sense. It only left him with an empty feeling, like he'd failed somehow. He went about his day as usual, and that night - the third night since he'd taken the pill - the moment he laid down, sleep swallowed him up like a sand pit, and he couldn't escape it.

There was so much more static, and the noise deafened his ears. In a deep state of sleep, this lasted for hours, and with each passing second, it felt like he had more control. He was able to unpeel the memories voice by voice, face by face, until one signal was the loudest.

It wasn't clear. In fact, it was blurry and low quality, but he was only able to focus on this memory for now. The memory was so, so loud... yet it felt so far away. He knew this memory was signaling to be the loudest, but he was still unable to fine-tune to clearly see it. Not right away. It took time, but he was able to get bits and pieces of muffled phrases, blurred-together voices until he realized he recognized a voice.

It was Evaline. Her voice was broken and distorted at times, and he was only able to see a blurry, fuzzy outline of her as he swam through the loud signal, but it was undeniably Evaline. She sounded younger. She sounded desperate. It was familiar...

He was only able to focus on a small, short segment of what the memory offered him, slowly focusing through one detail at a time, laser-focused as he tried to hone in on one specific part of a memory.

Screams, and older teenagers in a classroom, shuffling out of the room. Running away from him. The person whose eyes he was looking through.

Hands were brought up to his face, and he could see that it was smeared with fresh blood. The person was breathing heavily, and then grunted in pain. It sounded masculine.

He looked past his hands, and he saw Evaline, the only one not having moved, staring at him with an empty intensity in her eyes. She was dressed in a school uniform with some blood splatters on her. She couldn't have been more than 18.

Her mouth moved to say something, but he didn't hear what she said as the static returned and the dream came to an end.

James expected to wake up from the dream with a start, but he couldn't seem to fight it. Sleep held him down, and he felt himself keep almost coming to wakefullness over and over and over until finally he was able to pry his eyes open. Blearily, he looked up at the ceiling. The sun was already up.

It had been the first night he'd slept in past sunrise since... oh, he didn't know.

But the dream weighed heavily on his mind. He kept seeing the blood-spattered hands, Evaline's empty stare, and hearing the screams of terrified teenagers.

This was not something he'd intended to see, and he knew it was a memory from years ago. Evaline had been a teenager. How far back had he seen? Eight? Ten years? More?

He couldn't get the dream out of his head. Isabel came by again that day, and he managed to go about things like they were normal. They went back to her fields, and he sang more songs about beans, but his heart wasn't in it. He almost expected Isabel to notice, but he realized he was well-practiced in keeping the deep disturbance at bay.

It was a little harder to fall asleep the next night. There was a dread-filled apprehension sitting in his gut as he closed his eyes. Drowsiness seemed to come unnaturally, and it seemed to battle with the anxiety in his stomach, but eventually it won out.

He didn't fight it this time. He didn't try to weave out the various memories giving off signals at different points of times and distance. He let the dream pick on its own, and the dream melted to the view of the ocean. It wasn't entirely crystal clear, but he could see it well enough.

He knew that he was looking through Evaline's eyes because he could see Ellie prancing around in front of him. When Evaline looked down, he could see that she was drawing the cliffs of the view in front of her.

She was sketching for a few seconds, when all of a sudden, Ellie pawed wet sand towards her and the sketchbook. A pile of it landed right in the middle of the drawing.

Evaline looked up and groaned.

"Again, Elliot?" she muttered.

He was relieved to dream of something inconsequential. It gave him something to tell Oliver if and when he returned to ask questions. James didn't know if it was the memory Oliver had in mind, but it was something.

Still, it didn't get the last dream out of his head.

The next night, sleep didn't come as easy. He knew it wouldn't if he fought it, but he couldn't help the anxiety of seeing something he didn't want to see. When he finally fell asleep, he did dream, but it was like he was caught between two memories playing at the same time. He couldn't decipher what was going on or who was in it. He thought that maybe he heard Evaline, but he couldn't be sure.

He could feel in his gut that the first memory wriggling into his brain was the one he'd dreamt about Evaline when she was a teenager. Through the eyes of a boy he didn't know the name - he only knew the hands, covered in blood. The more he actively tried to ignore the memory, the louder the chaos inside his head grew. It was like a million people were talking at once in a storm.

He woke up with a headache. The headache developed into a migraine - one that persisted over two dreamless nights until Sunday came.

The day Hendrik was supposed to come in and check on him. James got up before the crack of dawn that day, making sure to get as much farmwork done as possible. He didn't know if Hendrik would stay for a minute or hours. He never knew anymore.

When noontime rolled around, James had been done with all of his farm chores for about an hour. He made an effort to make sure he washed up so he didn't stink, even though Evaline had told him Hendrik's powers didn't work that way.

He really just didn't want to get sniffed again, honestly. He didn't need to deal with that. He didn't need to invite more insults upon himself.

He was sitting in his rocking chair, reading one of the fiction books idly. He'd read it before, so he wasn't paying that much attention to the book, and was easily torn away from it when he caught sight of movement down the road. He set the book in his lap as he saw Hendrik come into focus.

He was riding on the back of a large, muscular creature that James didn't recognize, but if he had to describe it, it was something like a mix between a rhino and a bear. And it looked like the creature had a... small cage? Strapped on it's back, behind Hendrik?

Maybe Hendrik went... hunting? James wasn't sure if that was befitting of someone with animal-befriending powers. In an event, James was glad Elliot was in the shed for Hendrik's arrival, since he was pretty positive the creature Hendrik was riding would make Elliot nervous, despite Hendrik's ability to influence animal pheromones.

When Hendrik arrived, he slowed down his animal in front of his cottage and pulled down his hood, revealing a smirk.

"We meet again, baby man," he said. "Where do you want me to put Bongo?"

James set his book down on the chair as he got to his feet, walking towards the path. There was a post near his porch that Evaline normally tied Ellie to, and he gesture to it.

"As long as Bongo won't attempt to break into my house," he said. "Here is just fine."

"Do you have a dead body Bongo can eat in there?" Hendrik said casually as he hopped off the creature and walked up to the post to tie up the rope he had in his hands, already attached to Bongo's collar.

"No dead bodies," James said. "As long as he doesn't have the dietary standards of a goat, I'm not worried."

"Like your horse," Hendrik replied, finishing up his knot.

"Horses aren't like goats," James said matter-of-factly. "The only thing they have in common is they both have four legs and fur."

Hendrik stood up and faced James, who stepped up just a few short feet away from him. He took two long strides over to him anyways and towered over him.

"Do you think I know nothing about goats and horses?" he asked gruffly, fiercely making eye contact with him.

James stared up at Hendrik, unimpressed.

Suddenly Hendrik let out a long "hah" and then patted his shoulder hard. Why did people slap people when they laughed? He never understood.

"I'm just messin' with ya," he said with a smirk. "What, did you lose your sense of humor when you came to the future?"

"Maybe I left it in my other suit," James said dryly.

"Well, why don't you go get it and wear it, then?"

"Oh, sure, let me just go change," James said, putting his hands in his pockets and not moving at all. Hendrik just stared at him.

"There. Done," James said after a few short seconds passed.

"Hmmph. You moved so fast, I barely saw it," he said lowly as he walked back towards Bongo.

James suppressed a smirk.

"I've always been told I'm quick on my feet," he said.

"Baby man has quick baby feet?" Hendrik said over his shoulder as he unstrapped the cage from Bongo, who was laying down on his stomach. "Adorable."

"I'll take it," James said dryly. "What's that you've got there?"

"Your girlfriend told me to get you a farm animal," he said as he brought the cage over. "So I got you a baby chicken."

He extended out the cage towards him, and James could see that there was chicken that barely started to feather, sleeping in some hay.

The amount of excitement that James had to fiercely push back was far more than he should've logically felt when looking at a baby chicken. He could feel his expression starting to soften.

"I wanted to get you an egg," Hendrik went on. "Because you can fertilize eggs. But I don't trust you enough to know how to take care of an infant chick."

James wasn't paying attention to Hendrik's lame jokes. He was looking at the little chicken, and he was not going to 'aww.' Even though he wanted to.

"Are you going to be googoo-gaagaa at the chick all day, or are you going to take it?" Hendrik went on.

James shot Hendrik a glare as he pointedly took the cage from Hendrik's hands. When he looked back at the chicken, though, his glare faded away.

"Thank you," he said. "I will take care of it."

"You better," Hendrik huffed out. "She'll mature in about four months and then start laying eggs. Do you know how to care for them at this age?"

"Yes," he said. "I've cared for chickens before."

It only registered a minute later that Hendrik had called Evaline his girlfriend. He knew Hendrik was probably just teasing, but it annoyed him that he was making assumptions based on -- oh, what? One dance, or something?

"Lookit you, farming away crops and knowing how to take care of animals," Hendrik said with his hands in his pockets. "You're a pretty decent farmer."

"I sure hope so," James said, walking over towards his porch. He needed to figure out a place to keep the chicken, but he figured it'd be best to keep it inside at this stage.

Hendrik glanced at the shed. "Your horse over there?" he asked.

James glanced at the shed, then at his front door.

"Yes..." he said. He didn't really want Hendrik going in there without him.

Hendrik nodded slowly. "Never seen a horse before," he commented. "Almost don't believe it."

Okay. So he wanted to see Elliot. Fine. Fine.

"Excuse me just one moment," James said as he pushed his front door open and set the sleeping chick's cage on his table for the time being. He quietly stepped back out and closed the door behind him. As he walked towards Hendrik, he started walking in the direction of the shed.

"Come on," James said, like Hendrik had pestered him to see Elliot, even though he hadn't directly asked.

Still, Hendrik followed and seemed pleased.

"What's your horse's name?" he asked.

"His name is--" James almost finished that sentence, but then he realized that Evaline had named Ellie the same name, and even though Elliot the horse was the true original, Hendrik didn't know that. "Bullet," he said without missing a beat.

Unironically, James had used the fake horse name before. Horses could be recognizable when traveling through towns, and though fake names were only ever a good minor deterrent, it worked well enough when people weren't too keen.

"Did you name him that because he's fast?" Hendrik continued to ask.

"Yes, actually," James said. "He can be very fast when he wants to be."

Which was usually when they were running away from something. It was a mutual desire to go fast. Him and Elliot had that understanding.

Hendrik hummed. "Are you saying you don't have as much control over Bullet's speeds?"

"Not at all," James said. "I do have control. He just has a little attitude about it sometimes. There's a difference between playful and disrespectful."

He chuckled. "Sassy horse?"

"Yes," James said with a slight smile. "But I enjoy him for it."

He brought them to the shed door, and he pulled it open.

"Animals do have their own personality," Hendrik commented as he saw Elliot for the first time in his stall. "Hope the poor guy doesn't know he's the last of his kind."

James shushed him loudly and waved his hand.

"He doesn't," James hissed, though he was only teasing. "I've been waiting for the right time to tell him."

Hendrik put his hand on his back and patted him again, but more gently this time.

"Baby man," he said softly. "Let him live in peaceful ignorance in Terra."

"Well, that was my initial plan," James said. "So. Yes."

He entered into the shed, walking to Elliot who greeted him with a happy bob of his head and a soft whinny. James smiled and scratched under Elliot's chin. He glanced back at Hendrik and waved him in.

"Come say hello," he said.

Hendrik didn't even hesitate, walking forward and reaching out to pet Elliot's snout. Elliot seemed to be taking an immediate liking to Hendrik since he leaned into his hand and let out a few sniffs and licks, but James figured that was because of Hendrik's power.

"Aren't cha just the goodest boy?" Hendrik cooed as he scratched both sides of his neck. "Is crying man baby over here givin' you a hard time? That's why you sass him? Oh, I feel sorry for you."

James watched Hendrik baby-talk Elliot with a blank, mostly tired expression. He kept his hand on Elliot's neck as Hendrick scratched and petted him.

"Such a handsome steed," he commented after a few more baby-talk comments, moving on to brush his mane with his fingers. "How old is he?"

"Eight years old," James said.

"Have you had him for all eight years?"

The true answer was no, but James wasn't going to get into that.

"Yes," James said.

"He must be really attached to you," Hendrik commented. "How often do you ride him?"

"Every day," James answered.

Hendrik nodded and shot him a look of approval. "He looks very healthy, and very happy. You take good care of him."

"I aim to treat any animal in my care with the same level of attention and respect," he said.

"It's a good code to live by," Hendrik said as he scratched behind Elliot's ear. "But one may argue that you should treat all animals like that, even if they're not in your care."

"I do," James answered simply.

The only exception was if they were actively trying to kill him.

Hendrik was watching him at the corner of his eye.

"You plan on eating the chicken when she's all grown up?" he asked.

Oh, so Hendrik was vegan too. That's what he meant.

"No," James answered honestly. He'd keep the chicken for eggs. And company.

Hendrik gave Elliot one final pat. "Good lad," he said. "You're doing good work."



James nodded, brushing Elliot's mane before pulling his hand away.

"Thanks," he said.

"So," Hendrik began again after a small silence passed. "Everything good here? Seems like you're getting mandatory visits now. Who'd you piss off?"

"That's a great question," he said. "I don't know."

That was a lie. It was Evaline.

"Oliver was the one who gave me the schedule," James said with a shrug. Sure. He'd use Oliver as a scapegoat. No one seemed to like him anyway. Did James feel bad using Oliver as a scapegoat? A little. Maybe.

"Huh. Doesn't surprise me." He sighed. "Man's always trying to push for extra work when he does no work himself. He should get a real job, like you."

"You think he'd make it as a farmer?" James asked with an eyebrow raise.

Hendrik laughed. "Oh hell no. Man wouldn't even last a day."

"You know, next time he comes by, I should ask him to help me with the garden, just to see how he would fare," James mused. "He's so polite I can't see him saying no - but then again, he might come up with a way to make a 'no' sound nice somehow."

Hendrik stared at him for a moment but then let out a loud, deep laugh. "I would kill to see that," he howled.

"Now just imagine him in overalls, and it completes the picture," James said with a growing grin. He was glad to make Hendrik laugh, even if it was at poor Oliver's expense.

"Dear god, don't make me have that vision," he said with another laugh, shaking his head. "But also, if that does happen, take a picture so we could blackmail him."

James's brain hitched for a moment. Take a picture. Pictures. Photos. Cameras. He'd read about that somewhere in a book. Evaline mentioned photographs. He knew what those were. He just... didn't fully comprehend it.

"If I had a camera, I would," James said with a small smile and a shrug.

Elliot reached over the edge of his stable, trying to join in on the laughter and interaction. James reached back and started petting his snout, giving him a quick affectionate glance.

"Don't tempt me," Hendrik said, also returning to give Elliot attention, petting his neck.

"Don't get me one," James said firmly, though still with a slight smile. "I have enough things as is. I much prefer a chicken."

Hendrik let out an amused "hah" while he smiled, his attention back towards Elliot.

"Speaking of things, I was told to tell you to take your medicine," he said. "As if you are ten years old and need a reminder."

"Thanks, dad," James joked, but after saying it, wished he hadn't. He made a look of distate at his own words.

Hendrik looked at him with his head tilted down and his brows raised, smirking.

"Sorry," James said quickly. "Bad joke."

"It's alright," he said. "Baby man can call me daddy any time he wants."

James's mouth turned into a frown of discomfort, and he squinted at Hendrik.

"Great. Now I'm never going to unhear that sentence," he said.

Hendrik let out an amused laugh and then returned back to baby-talking Elliot, talking close to his ear as he scratched the side of his head.

"It's cute to see him blush, isn't it? Do you ever sass him like this and make him squirm? Bet you have a good ole time doing that."

James resented the fact that as Hendrik was talking he could feel his face heat up.

"When you're done talking about me to my horse," he said stiffly. "I'll be just outside."

Without another word, he walked out of the shed, and leaned on the outer wall with his arms crossed.

Hendrik laughed and seemed to loudly tease him to Elliot some more, but then started to talk softer as James went out of earshot. After about a minute, Hendrik seemed to wrap up his time with Elliot and stepped out of the shed, leaning against the doorframe.

"So this has been fun," he said. "But after I see you take your little boy medicine, I'll be back on my merry way."

James turned to look at Hendrik, furrowing his brows and looking him up and down.

"You're serious?" he asked. "You guys are monitoring that?"

"I don't give a damn," Hendrik corrected. "I think the scare is that your small brain will forget and then you overdose to keep up. Can't have that."

James honestly wished that Hendrik kept that to himself, because suddenly the idea was planted in his mind like an invasive thought that he couldn't just shake off.

"I'm not an idiot," James muttered, starting for the cottage. "I can follow directions."

"Aww, baby man trying to prove he can swallow?" Hendrik teased as he followed him.

James grimaced, but refused to dignify that comment by looking back, and instead picked up the pace, speed-walking. He was glad that Hendrik merely laughed and then changed the topic, walking at a normal pace with long strides next to him.

"How's it working, by the way?" he asked. "Is it helping you sleep during quiet farming boy hours?"

James glanced back at Hendrik before stepping up onto the porch, pushing open the door.

"It's helped a little," he said curtly. "Not a lot."

"Second week works better, if I recall correctly," he said as he glanced in the door like he was waiting for an invitation.

James held the door open for Hendrik to go in first.

"You've taken it before?" he asked. He waved for Hendrik to go in.

Hendrik chuckled and aggressively ruffled his hair as he walked past him to go inside. James was annoyed, and quickly brushed his hair aside as he closed the door behind them.

"I'm a big man with scary dreams, baby man. The pills have helped me sleep before, yes," Hendrik said as he glanced around, standing in the middle. "Nice place."

James walked past Hendrik and took the pill case off the bookshelf, taking out the pill corresponding with the current date. He cupped it in his palm as he stashed the rest of the pills away.

"Thanks," he said, before he tossed the pill in his mouth and swallowed.

"Expert swallower over here," Hendrik said with a smirk as he watched him dry-swallow the pill.

"Shut up," James snipped. "Big men aren't the only ones who have bad dreams."

"Awww, having little baby man nightmares, are you?"

"You know Hendrik, if you stopped being condescending for half a second you might actually learn something about me," James said sharply.

Hendrik didn't visibly react yet, but his stare seemed to sharpen as well.

"I've met plenty of men like you," he said. "Fragile, anxious, independent. You wouldn't share anything even if I were trying to learn something about you."

James stared back and narrowed his eyes. Maybe Hendrik was partially right.

"Fine," he said. "You've already figured out what I am, then. What kind of person are you?"

Hendrik shrugged, not bothered by the increasing hostility.

"I think people are like less complex animals. You have to speak their language to get them to calm down." He paused. "So in other words for your baby brain to understand, I'm Bongo, and you're the chicken."

James stared at Hendrik for a moment, and then he looked over to the baby chicken who was still asleep in its cage on the table.

"I took the pill and you gave me what you came here to give," he said quietly. "You can leave now."

Hendrik stared at him as a small silence passed, and then he sighed and took a few steps towards the table, crossing his arms and leaning over it like he was half-sitting since he was tall enough to use the table as a bench.

"Have you met Evaline's cat, Elliot?" he randomly asked.

James was watching Hendrik.

"Yes," he said stiffly. "She's... very playful."

For some reason it still felt impossible to say anything very positive about a big cat.

"That she is," he agreed. "She didn't start off for riding, and I still disagree that she should be. She started off as an emotional support animal."

Hendrik paused here, waiting for James to respond like he wanted him to put the pieces together himself. James already had. He just wasn't going to say it out loud.

"If you need a chicken for the same reason, I respect that," he continued when the silence grew too long. "But, damn, a chicken is the worst emotional support animal."

James slowly folded his arms and leaned back on the bookshelf as he watched Hendrik.

"I have Bullet," he said.

"And Bullet looks happy," Hendrik said. "But you look like shit, James."

James raised his eyebrows for a moment, as if to say: "really, now?" without words.

"Thanks for noticing," he said dryly.

"So you don't disagree," Hendrik said flatly.

"I'm neutral on the state of my outward appearance," James responded in monotone.

Hendrik hummed. "And your inner appearance?"

"Considering my power isn't seeing through flesh I doubt I can give an unbiased response," James said, knowing Hendrik was trying to be serious.

Hendrik look unamused, but still didn't move or look away.

"Would it help if I gave you a trained support animal?"

James met Hendrik's eyes.

"You're serious," he said in disbelief.

"Cat? Dog? No preference?" Hendrik continued, sounding tired.

"Hendrik, I don't need another support animal. I have my horse. I don't even know what a 'trained support animal' does. I don't need one. It's okay," he said.

Hendrik slowly nodded.

"So you do admit that Bullet is your support animal," he said.

"If by support animal you mean my closest and most steadfastly loyal companion, then yes," James replied.

"That's one descriptor, yes. A major description of a support animal is relying on them to stabilize your emotions."

Why the hell did everyone keep dropping hints - subtly or not subtly - that they thought he was emotionally unstable? Did he really give off that energy?

"Listen," James said. "Is this about the anxiety attack I had during the council meeting? Is that what this is all about?"

Hendrik shrugged again, still looking unphased.

"Can't a man with bad dreams help out another man with bad dreams?" he said instead.

"For the record," James said. "I think me freaking out was completely justified. I didn't expect to have an audience of strangers watching me when it all hit me that I really was in a different time. Okay?"

"I don't blame ya," Hendrik said calmly. "And I was the one who got punched."

"I am still sorry about that," James said. "Genuinely."

The edge of Hendrik's lips arched up into a small smile.

"Apology accepted," he said.

James squinted up at Hendrik for a moment before he looked away, finding himself short on words. His arms were still crossed, and he hated that Hendrik made him feel childish no matter what he said. Even now, when Hendrik wasn't making fun of him anymore, James couldn't help but feel like Hendrik was being condescending.

"Thanks," he finally said quietly as he looked at the floor.

A short silence passed as Hendrik finally tore his gaze away and seemed to take his time to take in the house's decor.

"I see you're a reader," he said as he gestured towards the bookshelf behind James. "What are you reading?"

James glanced over his shoulder at all of the books.

"Oh," he said. "Well... I've read all of them already, actually. I was working my way through a science fiction story on the porch before you came. It was about a space war between humans and aliens. It's not what I'm typically drawn to, but it was interesting."

Hendrik nodded, patiently listening.

"I see you also have cassettes," he said as he gestured to the cassette player beside him. "Creative type?"

"I like listening to the music," he said. "It's -- it's been ages since I've made any of my own."

"So you like to consume music and stories," Hendrik commented. "But not make them."

"...Not really," James said. Not anymore. "Do you like to read?"

"I don't usually read fiction, but I think it's therapeutic at times to make up some stories," Hendrik said. "Not that I'm good at it, or anyone ever reads it. But it is relaxing. Give it a try sometime."

"I have," James said. "I... used to write."

Before Hendrik could comment on that, he kept going.

"What kinds of stories do you like to tell?" James asked, this time with a spark of genuine curiosity free of suspicion or hostility.

"Oh, I don't tell it," Hendrik said, relaxing his posture. "Just put it on paper. But I'm typically inspired by my animals. Maybe Bullet could be an inspiration to you too."

James nodded slightly.

"Possibly," he hummed. "Do you ever share your writing? Or is it just for yourself?"

Hendrik chuckled. "Just myself. I write to pass the time, so they're not particularly good. It's nice to put fabricated stories on paper at times."

"I understand that," James said. "It takes the pressure off - if you just allow yourself to write without worrying about it being good."

"Exactly," Hendrik said. "You seem to understand more than most. Did you write for yourself as well?"

James nodded a little.

"I did," he said. "For a while, actually. But... I eventually lost all of my work. After that, I gave up on putting it to paper."

"That's a shame," Hendrik replied. "Writing it on paper is the most therapeutic part. It's a good feeling to put the pencil down, look down at the paper, and think, 'I wrote this.'"

James watched Hendrik for a moment before his eyes dropped to the floor.

"I suppose so," he murmured.

"Maybe you could give it another shot and put it in a safer place this time," Hendrik said with a faint smile. "Do you need something to write with?"

James glanced back at the near-empty journal on the bookshelf that Evaline had given him.

"I have things to write with," he said.

"Why don't you give it another try, then? Maybe Bullet and the chick could help inspire you."

"We'll see," James said. He stood up straighter, no longer leaning on the bookcase and slowly wandered over to the opposite end of the table.

Hendrik watched him walk over to the opposite side of him, and then his eyes drifted back to the casette player.

"Do you make music, too?" he asked.

"It's been a long time since I've had an instrument to make music with," James said. "So no. Not as of late."

"You don't need an instrument to make music," Hendrik pointed out.

"I know," James said. "But I've always considered myself more of a musician than a singer."

"I can see that," Hendrik said with a nod. "You're not a man of many words."

"I believe in efficient and clear communication," James said with a nod. "But I can be 'wordy' on occasion."

"Case in point," he began after a pause. "Tell me how you're really doing in Terra. Efficient or wordy, I don't care."

James narrowed his eyes at Hendrik a little.

"You don't... write up a report of any of this or anything, right?" he asked.

Hendrik almost looked offended as he stared at him with half-lidded eyes.

"The only stories I put on paper involve my mountain lions chasing butterflies," he said in a monotone voice. "Why the hell would I be writing about you?"

"Okay, okay," James said quickly, backing off. "Sorry."

He hoped Hendrik was telling the truth. He seemed sincere. He paused to take in a deep breath.

"It's been fine," he said. "I'm honestly used to being alone most of the time, so I don't mind all the quiet. It's weird being checked up on every week because sometimes it feels like I'm being monitored for something that no one's telling me about - even though I've been told it's more-so just to make sure I'm 'adjusting' to things well. As for the sleeping pills... well, I've had insomnia as long as I can remember. So I don't sleep very well, which isn't great, but it's also nothing new for me."

Hendrik seemed to be giving him his full attention, although he didn't visibly react to his words.

"Nightmares keep you up at night?" he asked after a pause.

"Often... yes," James answered. "That, or it's just near-impossible for me to fall asleep in the first place."

"I understand," Hendrik said with a nod. "I've had night terrors since I was young. Ever tried meditating? It helps with sleep, too."

James wanted to laugh, but he didn't. It wouldn't have been an amused laugh, either.

"Yes," James said. It was a small stretch of the truth. It was impossible to fully meditate if you couldn't afford to let your guard down.

"You're probably stressed," Hendrik continued. "It worsens the nightmares and paranoia. Believe me, I know."

James knew that. He didn't need to have it explained to him.

There was a small pause before Hendrik continued.

"Want a massage?" he asked. "It'll help de-stress you."

"I..." James faltered.

"You don't gotta take off your suit if that's what you're worried about," Hendrik said with a smirk.

It wasn't just that. Obviously James didn't want Hendrik seeing all of his scars.

"I'm not very comfortable with people... touching me," he said carefully. "Actually."

"Oh," Hendrik said as he squinted at the wall in front of them, focused like he was thinking back on their time together. "Hm. I see... Good to know."

James decided to keep talking.

"I'm aware that I'm probably very tense," he said. "I just don't know if a massage would make me less so. If that makes any sense."

"Consider: a massage without anyone touching you," Hendrik said as he glanced at him, brow slightly raised. "Thoughts?"

James gave Hendrik a clear look of confusion.

"What?" he said it more like a statement.

"If you could get a massage without anyone touching you, would you do it?" Hendrik asked again.

"How does that even work?" James asked.

He laughed. "Come on, old man. Forgot the olden technology already?"

James furrowed his eyebrows. It was moments like these that he was worried about.

"If a person wasn't involved," he decided to say. "Maybe I'd consider it."

"Noted."

"That's it?" James asked. "You're not going to elaborate?"

Hendrik smirked. "I'd ruffle your hair again and say, 'Can't the baby man wait one week to find out?' but I think I'll start calling you James now."

There was a lot to unpack in one sentence. But once he got past the 'baby man' joke he realized what Hendrik was really trying to say. James's expression softened, but only for a moment.

"Well... thanks," he said. "Hendrik."

"You're welcome, James," Hendrik said gruffly.

As a bout of silence passed, James's eyes fell to the still-sleeping chick on the table.

"I can get you more chickens if you'd like," Hendrik said when he noticed his attention being diverted.

James looked back up at him. "What? No, no. This is more than enough."

"James, I have a big chicken farm," Hendrik went on like this was something he should have known. "You only have one, and she's not even fully grown yet."

"And I will nurture her until she does get fully grown," James said defensively.

Hendrik watched him for a moment but then smirked. "Atta boy. Seems like you'll make a decent chicken farmer someday, then."

James half-rolled his eyes.

"Well," Hendrik began again after another small silence has passed. "My job here is done. I gave you the chick, I saw you take the pill, and we talked as men. Need anything from me before I go?"

James shook his head. "No," he answered.

Hendrik turned towards him and reached out his hand.

"Handshake?"

James looked at Hendrik's hand for a moment before he reached out, shaking his hand firmly. Hendrik surprisingly had a gentle handshake.

"Good lad," Hendrik said as he pulled away after a natural shake and then started to walk towards the door. "Don't cause any trouble, now."

"Yeah," James said with sarcasm. "So much trouble. Me and my chicken."

"And Bullet," he added, shooting him a look that said, 'Really? You forgot your horse companion?'

James shot a look back of offense.

"Of course," he said. "He's my other half."

"That's what I like to hear," Hendrik said with a small smile, and then opened the door. "Now, I'm going to go to my other half now."

He stepped out of the door and then called out Bongo's name with a high inflection. Bongo stood up on all fours and started to bounce up and down, causing the ground to shake a little.

"Good boy!" Hendrik cooed, aggressively petting Bongo's head, calming him down despite his butt shaking in the air. Hendrik baby-talked and pet him for a few more moments before hopping on to his saddle.

"Write some more stories and songs, would ya?" he said, giving James a salute.

"Will do," James said, mirroring the salute with a small smile.

"See you around, solider." And with that, he was off.

James knew Hendrik didn't know the irony of his goodbye. He turned back into his cottage with a small laugh to himself.

It had been a long time since he'd been called "soldier."

James was not lacking in things to do. As the plants in the fields were growing and maturing, he had to pay them more attention to make sure they continued to grow happy and healthy. When he wasn't tending the fields or the garden, he was taking care of Elliot (also now otherwise known as Bullet), and Sleepy, the chicken who he'd aptly named for its nature. And when he wasn't taking care of the animals or the fields, he was working on building a small paddock for Elliot.

He made wooden posts and used rope and twine to string them together, creating a fenced in area for Elliot to wander around in more freely, so James didn't have to worry about tying Elliot up all of the time. Putting the paddock together took a span of two days, and in that time, James found that while the sleep medication was still helping him get sleepy at night, he hadn't dreamed anything aside from incomprehensible static.

And he preferred it that way.

Every night, he would chat with Mel a little bit before bed. He told her about Hendrik's visit, and how he now had a baby chicken, that he'd named Sleepy. Mel thought he should have named the chicken something more cute, like Sunny or Fluffy, but she did seem glad that things worked about between him and Hendrik. At least, by the end. James decided to leave out more of the awkward interactions in his summation of the visit.

James thought things had calmed down a little. At least, until the third night. When he dreamed again.

He was riding on a bike, and he recognized the bike to be Evaline's. He must be looking through her eyes.

The dream only lasted a few seconds, but it felt longer.

One moment she was riding down a winding road, and after she was going through a bend, he saw that there was a muscular deer with huge antlers staring back at her. Evaline took a sharp turn to steer clear from the deer, and she skidded off the road and flew off the bike.

She let out a cry of pain as her head hit the pavement, and then the dream ended.

James wanted to escape the dream as soon as possible, but it was over before he could even think to fight his way out of it. He struggled to wrestle his way back to wakefulness, and the moment he opened his eyes, he wasn't able to close them again.

He finished his farm chores early that morning. Most of them, in the dark. It didn't matter. He was getting them done. He needed to get them done. He could spend the remaining hours that came reading. Writing, even. That would be suitable enough. Then he could tell Hendrik - if and when he saw him again - that he'd done it.

He didn't disturb Sleepy, though. Not until the sunrise. Then he made sure Sleepy got food, and water, and then he gave Sleepy a little bath. It wasn't until he gave Sleepy a bath that he realized he needed one of his own.

That could be how he filled up more time. He brought in more water from the well, and washed himself down. Wiping away the grime, and the sweat, and the lingering memories of death in his mind.

The rest of the day went by like a blur. Going through the motions, like he always did. He was standing over his stovetop, mixing a pan of sauteed vegetables when he heard a knock at the door.

It could only be a few people, at this hour. It wasn't someone scheduled to visit.

He departed from the stove.

"James?" a voice said behind the door. It was Isabel. James opened the door and looked at her curiously.

"Isabel," he said, looking her over. "Hey. What's up?"

She was holding a small basket with some dry beans as she smiled up at him. Her hair was lowly tied back like it usually was, and he noticed that she was wearing the same red dress from the first day he met her.

"I brought some beans!" she exclaimed, holding out the basket. "Thought maybe you could have some, straight from the source instead of it coming from Josiah."

"Oh," James said with a small smile. "What an honor."

He backed into the cottage and gestured for her to come in.

"I've already started making some dinner, but we can add the beans to a pot and get them going if you'd like to make them now?"

Isabel beamed as she walked in. Backwards, though, so she'd be facing him as she gestured to herself.

"I am an expert of all things beans, especially to cook," she said proudly, grinning and then turning back around to help herself to his kitchen as she set the basket on the table.

"How, um, have you been doing?" she asked. "It's been a few days since I've seen you."

"Oh, I'm doing alright," James answered. Sleepy was still being kept in the cottage, but James had moved the cage to the foot of his bed, so it wasn't as quickly noticeable. At the moment, Sleepy was comfortably curled up in his hay. "I have another companion," he said, pointing to the cage. "She's resting right now, though."

Isabel's eyes lit up as her eyes drifted to the cage on his bed. Without missing a beat, she grinned and ran over to his bed to kneel down and curiously inspect Sleepy.

"You have a chicken!" he exclaimed.

"Yes," James said, walking up behind her and looking down at the cage as well. "I named her Sleepy. Because she is."

And she slept far more than he ever did.

"Awwwwww!" she cooed, resting her chin on the edge of the bed as she stared at Sleepy with a smile plastered on her face. "She's so cute."

"That she is," James agreed. "She's very soft."

"I'd ask to hold her, but I don't want to disturb her sleep," Isabel grumbled.



"She's a sound sleeper," James said softly, kneeling down beside Isabel. "And she sleeps a lot. I think she'll be okay," he said as he reached over and carefully opened the wire door to the cage. Gingerly, he reached in and scooped Sleepy up in his hands. Sleepy didn't stir much at first - and she often didn't when it was him picking her up. She seemed to become familiar with him very quickly. He was glad for it.

He brought Sleepy out and watched as the little chicken started to ruffle her feathers a little and curled up again, shrinking into his palm.

James laughed softly.

"You can pet her, if you want," he offered.

Isabel let out a few curious hums as she leaned in and stuck out her forefinger to stiffly pet Sleepy's head. After a few pets, she grinned and started to ease into the soft pets some more, uncurling her hand.

"She's so precious," she cooed softly. "Cute little chicken."

"That she is," James agreed. "Have you ever thought of having chickens?"

"I'd like some!" she huffed despite being close to Sleepy. "But Josiah says I've got my hands full with beans. I think I'd make a good bean and chicken farmer, though."

James hummed. "Well, until then, I suppose you can always come by to see Sleepy, if you want."

"Yeah!" Isabel said brightly. "That's no fair, you have Sleepy and Elliot. Why can't I get a pet?"

"I'm sure Bubby wouldn't mind being spoiled again if you're that desperate," James said with a smirk. "I'm sure he's still out there."

Isabel snickered as she gave Sleepy another pat. "Maybe we can bring Sleepy to meet her brother Bubby. What's up with you and small birds?"

"I don't know," James said with a small smile. "I just like them."

"Awww."

Another small silence passed as they continued to give some affection to Sleepy, but then Isabel pulled away, looking satisfied that she had some time with her.

"Where'd you get her, anyways?" she asked.

"She was a gift," he said. "From a friend."

Maybe it was a stretch to call Hendrik a friend, and maybe it wasn't just from him either. He knew Evaline had to have put him up to it, but he found it strange. Strange that she was still sending people to shower him with gifts after their last conversation.

Isabel paused, barely nodding. "Evaline?" she guessed.

"No," James said. "Another friend. I don't know if you know him."

"How do you have so many friends?" Isabel nosily asked. "Is he from Terra?"

James patted Sleepy's head one last time before he gently lifted the little bird and laid Sleepy back in her cage.

"No," James answered. "I know him through Evaline, though."

He figured that was the shortest explanation.

Isabel glanced at him, paused, and then jumped up to her feet to head back to the kitchen where she could prepare the beans.

"Maybe you should be careful," she said as she took a pot from his shelf. "You know, being friends with her friends."

James was already trying to be wary. He was carefully filtering what he told Hendrik, even though he'd 'opened up' just a little. It was partially to get Hendrik to back off. Give him a little, and maybe that would get him off his back. If he couldn't convince people he was doing "great" then he could use his history of sleeplessness as a scapegoat. It was a far easier explanation than trying to figure out a way to translate his actual history to Earth's past.

So far, Mel and Evaline were the only ones who knew the truth, and even Mel only knew the basics. Mel was the only major risk he was taking. With the others, he was still holding himself at a distance.

He was even doing that with Isabel, not that she knew, or needed to know.

"I've been keeping that in mind," James said softly as he closed Sleepy's cage door, latching it shut. He got back to his feet and wandered over to the stove where she was helping herself. "I'm being careful, you know."

He felt like he was pretty good at making people think he trusted them more than he did.

"I just don't want her to manipulate you like she's done to everyone else," she said softly as she stirred the beans in the water. "You're from the past, so... I don't think you really know what she could be capable of. I think she's trying to take advantage of you somehow."

James joined Isabel at her side, stirring his pan of vegatables a little more before taking it off the heat.

"I've considered that as well," he said. "I've been trying to keep on my toes, though. I can't know everyone's deeper motives, but I'm aware."

"But you don't even know," Isabel stubbornly countered back. "You don't know what she's done. Do you?"

James decided to follow wherever Isabel was leading the conversation. Fine. He'd bite.

"I suppose I don't," he said quietly. He didn't think he had to ask Isabel to elaborate.

Isabel glanced over at him, sighed, and then aggresively began to stir. And spill. Rapidly.

"She was supposed to be the capital's next leader, but then ran away to join the war. The rebellion. They have a list of demands, and she made it well-known. She basically made the war because of her impossible powers. It lasted for a few years, and it ended five years ago. It failed because she didn't care about the demands. She only ran away because she wanted to make her own government under her own rules but was found out, so she ran away, and left everyone alone without a leader, and they all died. All because of her. She lied to them all, manipulated them to believe that there was good change, but there was never any change to begin with. Just. Her. Selfishness."

At the end of it, water was almost spilling because she started to spin the ladle around too fast, but she caught herself and stopped stirring, looking back at James with a sigh. Her eyes met his, and for the first time, she wore a serious expression.

"She's not to be trusted," she said, voice heavy.

James gently reached out and put his hand over hers, which was dangerously wielding the ladle and making a mess.

"I get it," he said softly. "Message recieved. Don't spill the beans over it though." He pulled his hand away, hoping she'd relax with the stirring.

"No, you don't," she said back sharply. "My parents were in the war too."

She looked away and stared back at the pot, now not having moved the ladle at all.

"They left me on Terra saying they'd come back when it was over," she continued softly. "I've been waiting for five years. I don't think they're coming back."

James was quiet, and he looked over at her with empathy in his eyes. He wasn't going to be dismissive of this.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly.

Isabel was sharply focused on the pot of beans in front of her, but it looked like she was biting back a cry.

"You can't trust her," she said quietly. "Or her friends."

"I'll be careful," James said, still speaking lowly. He gently put his hand on her shoulder.

"...That's what my mom said too," she whispered, barely audible.

James kept his hand on her shoulder, and was quiet for a moment.

"They come by once a week," he explained quietly. "One of her friends. They come by to check on me, or so they say. I can't stop them from coming. All I can do is try to be careful. I'm just doing what I can."

Isabel let a short silence sit between them as she weakly began to stir. The water was beginning to bubble now.

"That's scary," she said softly. "That you can't do anything about it."

"I have a feeling if I asked them to stop coming, they might grow suspicious," he said quietly. "Or they just wouldn't listen."

"You need to be extra careful!" she said with sudden urgency in her voice as she turned to face him, serious again. "You can't tell them anything. You can't tell Evaline anything. They're using you for something."

"I know," James said. Did he know? He still wasn't sure. He wasn't taking all of Isabel's words as fact. Everyone had their own bias. Evaline had her own bias. Isabel had her own bias. Somewhere between the two of them, there was fact. He just wasn't able to get it all straight just yet.

"I'm good at keeping secrets too, you know," he said, giving Isabel a knowing look, since she was keeping a secret for him too. "I can do this."

Isabel suddenly let go of the ladle in the pot and came in for a tight hug. She squished her cheek against his chest as she squeezed him.

"Promise you'll be okay?" she said, voice muffled.

James didn't make promises he couldn't keep. Not anymore.

"I'll do everything I can," he whipsered back. That was the truth. He hugged her back, but not as tight.

Isabel gave him another squeeze and lingered in the position for a little while longer, but then eventually pulled away, looking up at him with a soft smile.

"Okay," she said. "I trust you. Now back to the beans."

They ended up having dinner together. After the intensity of her warnings, their conversation flowed back into more lighthearted topics. James made an effort to make more jokes, and eventually was able to get Isabel laughing again. After eating beans and vegetables, Isabel left after sundown and James was left alone again.

He knew to be wary of the council, and even of Evaline. There was a reason he hadn't told Evaline that he'd started dreaming again. Especially after he'd had the dream where he threw the grass and she'd asked him questions that she hadn't told him about before. She'd told him all that happened was him throwing grass.

Which was far from the full truth.

If she was keeping secrets, he could keep secrets too. Plenty of them.

That was the final thought in his mind before he fell asleep that night.

It was happening again. He was getting drawn to the incredibly loud conglomeration of memories that felt distant but so near, and he was forced to keep his full focus on it despite his wishes. It felt like he was drawn to it for hours, his mind forcing himself to focus on unpeeling the distortion of the memories until he was able to see another small segment.

He heard the same familiar screams. Teenagers, screaming and shuffling away from the classroom.

He was looking through the eyes of the same boy he was looking at before, but this time, he was looking down at a limp body. Another boy. He couldn't make out his features since his face was turned away, but he could see that he had dark hair neatly combed back, even though it was splattered with blood. His own blood.

He backed away and looked down at his hands again. It was once again tainted with blood.

But this time, when he looked past the hands, he saw Evaline being held back by someone. The noises were being distorted as he seemed to be approaching the end of the segment, but he could hear her scream the loudest among the others. She sounded in pain. Desperate.

She [i]looked desperate, eyes not quite empty, but full of tears and hopelessness. She was screaming something to him, looking down at the body at his feet, but he couldn't make out what she was saying.

She was being pulled back by someone else. With the few seconds remaining before the audio and vision became too distorted to decipher, James was able to get a glimpse of the person's face who was holding her back.

It was Alistair.

But then the screams melted away into a high-pitched ring, and Alistair turned to Reed holding Evaline back instead. Holding a gun to her head. And pulling the trigger.

Evaline fell to the ground, and the classroom faded, being overcome by brambles, bushes, vines, and weeds. Evaline's body was limp on the jungle floor, shadowed by a sickly purple hue.

It was night. Reed had disappeared somewhere into the darkness. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise, and his senses were sharpened. Suddenly, everything became vividly clear, down to the last glowing mushroom on the ground.

He swallowed hard. He knew he was being watched.

He stepped towards Evaline's dead body, realizing that now he seemed to have control of his own actions. He was himself, not anybody else. He looked down at his hands, then at his legs. His feet were bare. His clothes were grimy and dirty. He could smell the stench of blood. So, so much blood. The ground was bathed in it.

He turned around, scanning the winding trees of the jungle, desperately trying to figure out where the shadow of the deadly creature was hiding.

And then, out of nowhere, it hit him. A paw, twice the width of his chest, smacked him to the ground. He watched in horror as the giant cat's teeth came chomping down, swallowing up Evaline in one gulp. He could feel his back torn open. Bleeding, bleeding, bleeding out...

The grangor's head turned to him, and for a second, its bright orange eyes met his, like burning flames licking at his skin.

The grangor's mouth collapsed around his body. For only a moment, he felt the crushing of his own bones, and somehow, he could feel a boot against his throat. Cutting off his air. For what felt like eternity, all he knew was pain. And then?

Nothing.
[/i]

James was trembling when he woke up. His clothes clung to his skin with sweat, and he struggled to throw off his covers. His heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. His limbs were shaking uncontrollably, and when he sat up the entire world felt like it flipped upside down.

Oh gods, he was going to vomit. James cursed, but the word was so shaky and slurred no one would be able to comprehend it, and it wasn't like it mattered. He almost tripped on his way to the front door, where he stumbled out past the porch. He didn't make it further than that before he fell to his knees and started convulsing.

He kept smelling blood. He couldn't get the smell out of his nose. All he could smell was death. Dead, rotting bodies. And every time he tried not to think about it, it would come back and make his stomach turn again.

His throat felt raw. Nothing was coming up anymore. His body felt almost feverish as he pushed himself to his feet.

Vomit... vomit. He had to hide the vomit. Couldn't have Josiah driving by a pile of vomit.

In a delirious state, James got a pail of water, washed it away, turned it over into the ground, and went back inside, not realizing until he sat back on his bed that his shirt was filthy.

Clean. He had to get clean.

James stopped for a moment, focusing on the few sensory images around him that his bleary eyes could make out in the darkness of night.

Wooden floorboards. The shadows of plants. Cool, night air. His breath, warm and heavy.

James pulled himself together and made sure there were no signs that he'd ever thrown up in his front lawn, and by the time morning came, he went about his day like he would any other. The only difference was that instead of reading before bed, he wrote.

But it wasn't a story. It was a list.

Allen, Larrel, Jane, Carter, Eliza, Blackfield, Butch, Reed, Evaline, Cowell, Pitch, Amy, Leo, Donovan, Kaia, Adina, Ari, Brett, Rosaleen, Ron, Hoss, Rita, Bella, Elliot...

Names. Names he needed to remember. Because now his dreams were starting to mix things up, between Earth, and Nye. It wasn't right. He couldn't get it confused.

He started picking out names, writing cryptic notes about each one. Ones he knew only he could understand, but others wouldn't if they stumbled upon it. He knew he just needed a few key words. That would be enough. He could figure it out.

He just couldn't forget it. Not when his mind was being flooded with memories that weren't his own.

That next night, James made every effort to focus on the farm. Oliver had said there were two events that happened on the farm. He'd said they were minor. James didn't want to dream of anything else - only the things he needed to. Over and over again, he pictured the farm in his mind. The fields. The well. The willow tree. Elliot. Over and over and over...

He immediately knew he was looking through his own eyes, and that this was a recent memory that was undone.

He saw Evaline kneeling in front of the half-finished bookshelf they were making, her hair messily tied up as she lined up a nail along two boards.

This only happened last month. Evaline had never mentioned that she went back.

"Now you try," he said to her after he demonstrated how to properly nail down two pieces of wood together in an inconspicuous way.

"Alright," she murmured, holding the nail in place with her hand, and holding the hammer above with her other hand as she prepared to hit it.

James was about to warn her that her angle and posture was off, but then she abruptly brought the hammer down and hit her finger instead.

"Ow!" she hissed as she dropped both items and brought her finger up to her face with a pained grimace.

A rumbling roar of thunder shook his whole house, and James jumped out of his bed, onto his feet, holding a knife.

He didn't know where he got it. He'd forgotten that he'd slept with it. But he realized the moment he was on his feet that there was no one there. It was only thunder, and he could see the torrential downpour outside. Or rather, he could hear it. Visually, he could barely make it out.

Casually tucking the knife back into his pocket, he wandered to the window, peering outside. He'd need to walk through it at some point to get to Elliot, but he wouldn't be able to work the fields like this. He'd just have to let the rain come.

It was doubtful that Josiah would stop by today.

James took a moment as he stood by the window to take a few deep breaths.

He wasn't meditating. Not in the way that Evaline taught him. He did what'd he'd done a million times before. He focused on his breathing, and he focused on what was around him. Sights, sounds, things he could feel that were tangible. He didn't need to close his eyes.

This way, he could stay alert and calm down.

It was just a storm. One that he could wait out just like every other.

He turned to go check on Sleepy, who was sitting in her cage, awake. Likely from the roar of thunder.

James took her out of her cage and cradled her in his hands as he sat on his bed.

"It's just a rainy day," he cooed. "We'll be okay."

Of course, he knew that the bird couldn't understand him. It was what he was telling himself. With one big sigh, he slowly laid back down. He knew he wouldn't fall back asleep, but he hoped that Sleepy would be able to fall back asleep, curled up on his chest, under the shelter of his hands.

He was glad when she did.

He laid there for some time as the storm raged on, but eventually got back up. He took Sleepy around the cottage with him, but left her in her cage when he waited for the rain to let up - which it never did fully, but it did decrease in intensity for a few short minutes. He took that opportunity to run out to the shed and make sure Elliot was alright. Got him hay, and water, and made sure he had a warm blanket.

When James had to head back to his cottage, he had to run through the wind and the rain. He came back in sopping wet, and he had to change completely.

It took him a long time to feel dry, but fortunately, he had firewood stored inside by the fireplace. He was able to get it going after some trial and error, and he huddled by the flames with Sleepy.

It rained all day, and it continued to rain into the night.

He went to sleep reluctantly that night.

It was the same dream. The same dream that he saw yesterday while he was making the bookshelf with Evaline.

"Now you try," he said to her after he demonstrated how to properly nail down the board.

It was strange watching this again, knowing what was going to happen. This was the first time he had been able to replay a dream.

"Alright," she murmured as she held the nail and hammer.

Before he could say anything, she brought down the hammer and accidentally hit her finger.

"Ow!" she hissed as she brought down both items and grimaced, bringing a bleeding finger up to her face.

James braced to wake up. This should have been the end of it. This should have been the point where Evaline went back, and the dream ended.

But it kept going.

James reached out to Evaline, gently setting his hand on her shoulder as he looked at the wound. She'd split a part of her nail, and it had dug into her skin, but it didn't look like she'd broken anything. Still, it had to hurt a lot.

"It's okay," he heard himself say. But it was strange. It was like he was hearing himself say it through his own mouth, but he wasn't the one doing it.

"Let's go inside," he said calmly and gently. "Put the tools down. Come on."

Evaline didn't question his words, setting the tools down and getting up on her feet as she cradled her finger with an obvious pained expression she was biting back. She glanced down at the bookshelf, noting how she had bent the corner when she missed.

"Sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have asked to help."

"No apologies," James said as he came to her side, putting his hand on her back as he led her to the cottage. "You are more important than a bookshelf. We'll get to your finger first. It doesn't look broken. We just need to stop the bleeding and clean it. Maybe cut back some of the nail, and bandage it up. Then you just need to let it heal, and I'll do all the hammering from now on. Okay?"

Evaline let him lead her towards the cottage, and she looked to be half-distracted, likely from the pain.

"...Okay," she said softly. "Thank you."

"Of course," James said quickly as he let Evaline walk into the cottage first, holding the door for her. "Sit down at the table, and I'll get everything real quick."

Evaline wordlessly followed his directions, sitting down as she held her hands in front of her.

"I -- I think you'll need a rag," she said as he was getting the items.

That was the first thing James grabbed. He brought it over to her, putting it in her hands.

"Thanks," she said quietly, but then dropped the rag on the table for a moment so she could soak up the few drops of blood on the table.

"I hope that doesn't stain," she muttered.

"Stains add character," James commented as he hurried to grab the first-aid kit and brought it to the table, opening it as he sat down next to her.

"Do you need help adding pressure to your thumb?" he asked as he pulled out hydrogen peroxide. He'd learned it functioned similarly to alcohol as a disinfectant.

"I don't know, but... I think I'm good?" Evaline answered as she stared at the alcoholic warily like she was bracing for it already.

"You need to hold your hand above your heart," he said, taking out a roll of bandages. "Otherwise it'll just keep bleeding."

She moved her hands closer to her chest. "I don't see how that makes a difference," she snappily commented.

"Evaline, I'm speaking from experience," James replied calmly. He reached over and gently took her wrists, lifting them up. "Hands. Above the heart. It makes the bleeding stop faster."

She hesitated, but then followed his directions, lifting her hands above her heart.

"Okay. Sorry," she said.

"It's okay" James said gently. "It's not a very deep cut, but you did break a nail, and it's bent into your skin. I'm going to have to peel the broken part back, and it is going to hurt. But it will heal--"

"Just do it," she interrupted before he could finish his spiel. "Get it over with."

"After the bleeding stops, and after I disinfect it," he said. "I can't do it now."

Evaline seemed to let out a small pout as she gazed off to the side, still keeping her hands up.

"This feels so undignifying," she grumbled. "Because I missed a nail."

"Technically, you still hit a nail," James said. "Just not the one you intended."

Evaline stared at him blankly for a moment but then suddenly laughed. It wasn't a deep or hearty laugh, but it still reached her eyes.

"That..." she said when she finished laughing. "That was good."

James smiled as he opened the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and put a pad of guaze on the lid. He tilted it so just a little bit got onto the pad, and then looked to Evaline's hands.

"Thanks, I have my moments," he said, before gestureing for Evaline to show him her hands. "You've been keeping pressure on it?" he asked for confirmation.

"Yes?" she answered, flicking her eyes between him and gauze.

"Okay. Bring the rag away so I can see it and make sure the bleeding's stopped," he said calmly.

She did as he suggested, but she looked at it first before he could see it. Grimacing, she then tilted her hands so he could see too. The bleeding had stopped.

"Okay. That's good. If the bleeding stops easily, it's not a very deep puncture. It should heal quickly, then," James said. "I'm going to clean it first, and it'll sting. You'll need to give me your thumb."

Evaline sat still for a moment, staring at the gauze before she sighed and tightly closed her eyes.

"I've... always been extra... sensitive," she said slowly. "With pain. And this is a pathetic injury, I know, but could I... if you don't mind... Could I have something to squeeze?"

James gave Evaline an empathetic look of understanding and nodded.

"One moment," he said as he got to his feet. He grabbed his pillow off his bed and brought it over, handing it to her. He held up the gauze. "I'd offer my hand, but I need both for this," he said with a small smile.

"That's..." Evaline began but faltered, looking down at the pillow. "This is fine. Thank you."

With her non-injured hand, she reached out and grabbed a corner of the pillow and gave him a nod.

"Okay. Whenever you're ready."

James nodded, and he gently took her injured hand with one hand, cradling her thumb. He used his other hand to hold the gauze, and he gently brushed it over the broken nail, dabbing it.

Evaline was silent, but she grew stiff, and clenched both her hand around the pillow, as well as her jaw. She didn't look over at her hand while he was working.

It didn't take long to disinfect it. James quickly pulled away to wet a different rag with some water and soap, and brought it to her thumb, cleaning out the rest before he dried it off with the dry end of the rag.

"Now I'm going to clip the nail," he said softly. He took a pair of nail-clipping scissors and a doctor's pliers.

"Do it," Evaline replied, not having moved at all.

He nodded and as gently as possible, pinched the edge of the broken nail and first popped it out of the skin, then cut it back where it had already bent and ripped off the thumb. He did it quickly, but as carefully as possible. He brought the soap-and-water rag back to dab it again quickly and then dried it off. He turned to grab the bandages, and quickly unrolled a little bit. Wrapping the thumb only took a moment, since it was so small. He made sure it was snug, but not too tight.

"There," he said, setting everything aside as he gently brought his hands over her wounded one. "All done."

Evaline exhaled deeply, like she had held her breath for far too long. When finished, she looked down at their hands, but then drifted her gaze up to meet his eyes.

"...Thank you," she said after a pause, forcing a small smile.

James smiled back softly, and pulled his hands away.

"You're welcome," he said.

"Maybe I should stick to sanding the bookshelf instead," she said after a small silence passed.

"You [i]are an excellent sander. I think you've found your niche skill," James said with a slight smile.

"I learn from the best."
[/i]

James woke up slowly, but his whole head felt muddled. Was that the full memory? Had he only seen a fraction of it before? Or was this... more? A possibility of the future?

James couldn't make sense of it. He didn't know if it was real. If it was, would Evaline have undone it? Normally, with pain, she reversed it right away. That seemed to be the trend with many of the other memories he'd seen. Undo the bike crash. Undo the bug bite. Undo the split nail. The only time she'd ever undone a conversation was...

His head hurt.

He grumbled as he sat up, holding his head. A damned headache again.

He glanced out the window. The sun was just starting to come up, and it was still raining. It wasn't storming like it had the last two days, but it was still coming down steadily. Lazily, but still wet. Sleepy was fast asleep. The calendar marked as Sunday. People were coming to check up on him today. Three people.

James was quick to get to work. He had to run out to Elliot and back, and he wanted to be dry before anyone arrived.

James was sitting at his table, and Sleepy was walking around on top of it. He was writing, and occasionally, Sleepy would wander over to the pages, dancing on top of them before she got bored and walked around in a circle again. Occasionally, James would rearrange some of the spice jars he had on the table, as if to create a little obstable course. Sleepy would walk around them, but sometimes she'd just run into them and turn around.

It was mildly entertaining.

When he looked out the window and saw a bike rolling up, he was quick to his feet and put his journal away, and plopped Sleepy back in her cage. By the time he finished tidying things up, there was a knock at the door.

He pulled it open, and he saw Zameer. He looked annoyed that he was here, especially since he was getting rained on.

"Hey," he said wearily. "Have you taken your pill yet?"

"Yes," James said. He had, even though he thought about not doing it several times.

"Okay," Zameer said, not even challenging it. For a moment, he glanced behind James, like he was curious to see what was inside.

James backed into the cottage. "Come in," he said. "Out of the rain."

"Well, I'm actually taking you somewhere," he said. "But the damn car was being used, so we'll have to ride on my bike. Do you need to change?"

James looked at the bike, then glanced back into his home.

"One moment," he said, leaving the door open for Zameer to step out of the rain if he wanted as James grabbed his coat off of the bench. It was a little damp, still, but it was better than nothing. He put it on quickly.

Zameer stepped inside, but stayed by the door so he didn't bring his wet shoes around.

"Since I'm here, do you need me to charge anything?" he asked.

James turned around to look at him, and he paused for a moment.

"Oh, yes," he said, gesturing to the casette player that was sitting on the table. He grabbed it and brought it over to Zameer.

Zameer held it for a few seconds and then extended it back out to him.

"All done," he said. "Anything else?"

James set the cassette player back on the table and shook his head.

"Just my radio," he said, grabbing it off the bookshelf and handing it to Zameer.

Zameer again wordlessly took it, held it for a few seconds, then gave it back to him. James quickly set it on the table.

"Charged. That's it, then?" he asked.

"Yes," James said with a nod.

"Alright." He stared at the radio for a bit and looked like he wanted to comment on it, but then decided against it. "Ready to go?"

James nodded again. "Ready."

Zameer nodded and then gestured for him to follow him out the door towards the bike, hurrying in the rain. He brought the hood of his jacket up, but after he sat down on the bike, he pulled it down to put on a helmet. He gestured for James to sit down on the seat next to him, attached to his. There was a helmet for him to take too.

James put the helmet on and hopped on the back of the bike, glad to see that the seat was more secure, so he didn't have to hold onto Zameer for support, and instead had a seatbelt for security.

"Good to go?" Zameer asked him, muffled through the helmet as he turned on the bike and revved it up. "It's not very far."

"I'm good," James said, projecting a little louder than normal to be heard through the helmet and the rain.

And with that, Zameer started to drive away, not uttering another word for the entire trip. James noticed as they drove by his fields, he could spot the beginnings of what looked like weeds. Small sprouts, but he'd have to take care of them soon. He'd probably have to pull them in the rain if it came down to it.

They went past the guards without a problem with Jack waving them off while Zameer only raised his hand, like he was signaling. He sped through the backroads, winding down the path very fast despite the rain's lack of clear visibility. Zameer must have taken these backroads all the time to know where to turn, slow down, and speed up.

It was about a thirty minute commute, although judging from Zameer's backroad route, that was probably just the shortcut. Finally, he slowed to a stop in front of a warehouse shielded by a fence and trees.

The building was large, low, and flat. There was a fenced-in area with a small shed, and James could barely make out a leash tied onto a pole. He wondered if they had an animal. In the front of the building were many bikes and cars, although most of them looked to be in repair or old. Towards the front were newer and seemingly in-use bikes, and James couldn't help but notice that Evaline's bike was there as well. He wondered if she was inside.

Zameer parked at the very front next to the door so that it was under the awning. He turned off the bike and then lifted his helmet up, pushing back his damp hair that got caught in a bit of rain, as well as sweat.

"We're here," he said as he set the helmet down behind him. "You can put the helmet down on your seat and follow me."

Without waiting for him, he hopped off the seat and started to make his way towards the door. James hurried to follow, doing what he said and jogging to catch up to him.

Zameer pressed a button as he stood in front of the door, tapping his foot on the ground. The button signaled a loud buzz.

"Hello?" Katya's voice boomed in front of him. It didn't sound like she was here, but rather, it sounded similar to how noise was perceived through a casette player, or a radio.

Zameer sighed. "Katya, let us in," he said.

"What's the password?"

Zameer stared at the buzzer, unamused and silent.

"...Fine, give us a few minutes and I'll open the door," Katya said after a long pause, and then some quiet static was heard before Zameer pressed another button and turned it off.

Zameer glanced between the door and James.

"So..." he said as an awkward silence sat between them. "How's Terra?"

"Good," James said. "I like the quiet, and I enjoy farming. It's satisfying seeing the progress."

"That's good," Zameer said back, although he didn't look totally invested in the conversation. "What are you growing?"

"A lot of carrots and potatoes," James answered.

"Very good stuff." There was another long pause. "Have you met Josiah?" Zameer asked. "He's my uncle."

"Oh?" James said, looking over to Zameer with a raised brow. "Yes, I have. He's not too talkative, but very kind."

Zameer nodded. "He's taught me everything I know about electricity, and how to fix things. He seems to like the farm life better, though."

"It does suit him well, I'd say," James commented.

"Yeah." Zameer pressed the button again, sending another buzz in the building. "She needs to hurry up," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry you had to come in the rain," James said after a small pause. He wanted to apologize that Zameer had to come at all, but he didn't.

Zameer shrugged. "Not your fault it's raining," he said.

"What else were you up to today?" James asked, taking it upon himself to carry the conversation, even though he would've preferred to wait in silence.

Zameer glanced at him. "Well, you were supposed to come here, I guess, but I was the one who volunteered to pick you up since I wanted to say hi to Josiah anyways. But before that, it was my usual work. And you?"

"Just typical farmwork. Took care of my farm animals, did what I could in the rain. Nothing too exciting," he said. "How was seeing Josiah?"

"It was good, just the usual any time I do see him," Zameer answered, then gave him another glance. "But did you say you have animals?"

"Only two, really. My horse, and now a chicken. Well, chick. It's still a baby," James said.

"Ah. Right. You have a horse," Zameer said, mostly to himself. "Did Josiah give you the chick?"

"Actually, Hendrik did," James said. It didn't make sense to lie about something like that, considering it might come up in the future and Zameer would always fact check.

Zameer let out a chuckle. "Hendrik is always giving animals away. He gave a dog to Tula and Katya, but of course they don't take care of him, so I'm the one always taking care of Sparky."

"Do you like Sparky?" James asked with a slight smile. Zameer made it sound like it was a choice taking care of the dog.

"I wouldn't be his new owner if I didn't," Zameer replied with a slight smirk.

"Fair enough," James said, smirking a little himself. "What's Sparky like?"

At that moment, Katya finally opened the door. James immediately noticed that she had recently dyed her hair bright blue, and she was leaning against the door frame with a jumpsuit spilled with oil stains as she looked them up and down.

"Well? You coming in?" she asked.

"Hello to you too," Zameer mumbled as he walked past her and beckoned for James to follow, which he did.

Zameer skidded his shoes across the mat and hung up his wet jacket on a rack before he turned back around, glancing between Katya and James.

"I'm going to go back to work. Radio me when he's ready to leave," he told Katya, but then paused before moving. "And... let him see Sparky if he wants." He gave James a nod and a wave. "Welcome to the factory," he said, but then walked away before James could respond.

Katya turned towards him, eyeing him for far too long. "Hmmmmm," she drew out. "You look different since last time I saw you."

"I'm wet," James offered as he took off his jacket and hung it on the rack as well.

"And you look like shit," Katya said bluntly. "Or did you just step on some shit since you're a farmer and all?"

"Hilarious," James said flatly. "You look blue."

"And you look ginger."

"Always have," James quipped.

Katya stared at him for a second but then shrugged and started walking down the hall. "Well, come on, then. Let's show you around."

As Katya began to lead him down the hall, James could see that the building's ceilings increasingly got higher as it was stacked with various boxes of materials. There were also tables full of half-put-together items (or so it seemed) and blueprints. It looked like the place could fit many people, but it was quiet, and they hadn't passed anyone. Katya went on to talk about how the factory was used for bringing skilled people together whenever there was a demand for a technology, but nowadays, they haven't been getting as many requests, and they have mostly resorted to fixing old items.

"Aaaaand that's the tour," Katya said as they neared the end of the hall. It looked like a breakroom of sorts. "What do you think?"

"It was very informational," James said with a small nod. "It looks like you all keep busy."

Suddenly, Katya brought her hand to her ear and frowned, turning slightly away from him. "What do you mean, can I hear you?" she barked. "I can always hear you. What's up?"

The frown then melted away as she dropped her hand and turned back to James. "What'd you say? You liked it?"

"Yeah," James said.

"Good stuff. You haven't even seen any of the things we can make," she said as she gestured for him to join her towards the back wall where a shelf lined high up with various items. "What catches your eye?"

James scanned the shelves, trying not to be too overwhelmed by all the visual stimuli. His eyes ended up catching on something that resembled the shape of an oil lamp, but the top of it was closed off, and the glass was filled with some sort of liquid. Curiously, he inched towards it, pointing to it and looking back to Katya with his eyebrows raised.

Katya grinned as she walked up to the item, scooting it closer towards the edge. "That's a lava lamp," she said smugly. "Ever seen one before?"

"I don't think so," he said. The answer was no, but he kept it more uncertain.

"You like it?"

He took a risk. She said it was a lamp, so--

"What does it look like when it's lit up?" he asked.

She cackled and then pressed a button on the front. The lava lamp suddenly lit up a bright orange as a bubble started to slowly rise up and float down the glass.

"Sure, why not, we can make some of that," Katya randomly said, talking towards her side again. "How many?"

James wasn't sure who Katya was talking to, but he had to assume it was either via some kind of small radio only she could hear, or it was power related. He didn't feel like asking.

"Mmhmm... Sure... Over and out," she said, then turned back to James. "Well? You like it?"

"It's interesting," he said. "A little eerie, though."

Katya suddenly pressed the button to turn it off and yanked it off the shelf, setting it in a small box nearby. "You can have it," she casually said. "Want anything else?"

James looked down into the box, and he couldn't help but notice there was already something in there. It was a smaller box, labelled "motion sickness medicine."

Great. Now everyone knew about that too.

He needed to stop telling people things. Hide his weaknesses better. Isabel had a point - even though he wasn't sure he agreed with everything he said. He shouldn't be so trusting with the council. He had to be careful.

"Not really," James said with a small smile and a shrug. "I don't really need anything."

And that was true. He had more than enough.

Katya gave him a look as if she was saying, 'Really?'

"Farm life sounds so boring," she said flatly. "I've heard you don't even have electricity. How do you survive out there?"

"People existed before electricity," James commented. "You'd be surprised how capable we are of surviving without it."

"Yeah, and now they're all monkeys," she howled, laughing at her own joke. "Literally back to the caveman era." She started to walk towards the couches.

James glanced back down at the box, and followed after her.

"Doesn't sound so bad," James said with a shrug.

"Yeah, okay, monkey man," Katya said with a smirk as she gestured towards one chair in particular.

James had a very strange flashback to an uncomfortable, unwelcome memory as the words 'monkey man' came out of Katya's mouth.

"Sit here and see if you still think that," she said.

James looked from Katya to the chair with a neutral expression, but he couldn't help but feel a little suspicious.

"Well?" she pestered when he didn't immediately move.

He slowly sat down into the chair and looked at Katya with his eyebrows raised, expectantly. It felt like a typical chair.

Katya grinned and leaned over, pressing a button on the side. Suddenly, it felt like the chair started moving. It was like little fists were beneath the leather fabric, and they started spinning, rolling, and pushing against him. There were small pads around his arms, shoulders, and legs that seemd to fill up with air, pressing up against him on all sides.

"A massage chair," Katya said smugly as she plopped down on the couch next to him. "Still wish you were a monkey man?"

There was a lot going on. The chair had his legs locked in and was massaging the arches of his feet and his calves at the same time. He didn't think it was possible to be tense in the arches of your feet, but pain shot through him as the chair-machine was pounding at his muscles, and his back in particular. It seemed to somehow find his spine and roll along it, working its way up to his shoulders, pressing down, and then doing it all over again.

It was more than he expected to process from just sitting in a chair.

So this was what Hendrik was talking about. A massage without a person. A massage with a machine.

"I see... what you mean," James said stiffly. He couldn't escape the chair, though. At any given point in time either his arms or legs were trapped. He had to take careful measured breaths. It would release him eventually.

"Uh-huh," she said lowly, still smirking and staring at him. "Why do you look even more stiff?"

"It kind of--" James pressed his lips into a line as the massage chair found a knot in his back, and his face tensed with pain. "Hurts."

"That's because I dialed it up to the tenth setting," Katya said like it was obvious. "Should I change it?"

"Mmhmm."

She reached over so she could turn down the setting. Or so he assumed. James expected the intensity to decrease, so he was not bracing for the intensity to instead increase.

"There," she said. "How's that?"

James was quietly convinced that this chair could be used as a torture device. He'd put up with much worse, but it felt like his muscles were getting pummeled on all sides.

"Ooooookay," he said thinly. "You can turn it off now."

Katya snickered and reached over, turning the knob again. The chair didn't quite turn off, but it was at decreased intensity than the first time she turned it on.

"What about that?" she asked again.

James let out a long sigh. It was too late, now. Everything already hurt.

"Better," he said. But he wanted to get out of it.

"You look like you've never gotten a massage in your life," she commented, squinting at him. "Is that why you're so stiff?"

"That would certainly make sense of it all, wouldn't it?" he said, trying to lean forward and get out himself, but the chair didn't let him go.

"I should radio Tula to get in here and give you a massage," she said with a grin. "She'd probably like that. And would be better than the chair. Maybe."

"That's not necessary," James said a little too quickly.

"TULA!" Katya suddenly yelled. There was no response, but she kept talking. She must have been radioing her. "Yeah, your man's here... No, not that man... The man whose baby you want... Yep, that's the one. We're at the breakroom."

Katya turned back to James with a smirk, flopping back on her chair. "Okay, she'll be here in a few minutes," she said.

Oh joy.

James winced as the machine started digging at a knot in his back again.

"Really, though, can you turn this thing off?" he asked.

Katya leaned over to turn the knob again. It, once again, did not turn off, but instead lessen in intensity.

"How's that?" she asked for the third time.

James sighed and didn't reply.

Katya finally let James have his peace and quiet, but it was still hard to find the peace when every once in a while she would randomly yell at whoever was radioing her (he presumed), and she'd respond in quick, short bursts. Sometimes all she would do was laugh. This went on with periodical silences until a door opened and Tula stepped out.

"Hey," Tula said as she glanced between Katya and James.

"Finally," Katya said as she jumped up to her feet. "Go entertain him. I'm going to go take a nap," she said as she walked away. She looked over her shoulder one last time before she could disappear. "Oh, and go take him to see Sparky. Zameer's request."

Tula stared, unamused at Katya as she skipped away. She sighed, walking over to stand next to James.

"Comfortable?" she asked.

"I would actually really appreciate it if you turned this thing off," James said.

"Oh," Tula said with a little laugh. "There's a button on the side. Here, I'll get it."

She reached over the same side Katya was leaning over earlier, and after a few moments, the massage chair came to a stop, freeing James.

"There," she said as she brushed her hands together. "Better?"

James stiffly leaned forward, feeling his entire back ache. He let out a long sigh.

"Yes," he said, relieved.

"You make it sound like Katya forced you sit on the chair against your own will," Tula said with a teasing smile.

"I didn't know it was a massage chair," James said as he got to his feet.

Tula nodded, glancing between him and the chair. "It does look rather inconspicuous, doesn't it?"

"That it does," James said, standing up straight.

"...How have you been doing?" she asked as a small silence passed, and she loosely crossed her arms against her chest.

"Fine," James answered. "Just... farming. It's really not eventful. How are things with you?"

"It's not that eventful here, either," she said with a small smile, but then sighed. "Unless you count Katya's pranks and shenanigans as eventful. Zameer and I have to put up with it everyday. I don't know how we do it."

"You must be very patient," James said.

"It's an acquired skill," Tula said. "I'm sure you have to be patient, too. Waiting for the crops to grow."

"That is true," he commented. "If you want to be a farmer, you have to be at peace with waiting."

Tula hummed. "I like that. That's a good quote."

"I'm not quoting anybody," James said with a small laugh. "That's just me."

Tula brought a hand up to her chin, tilting her head as she watched him. "Correction, I like your quote, then."

James shrugged with a slight smile. "Thanks."

Tula kept her gaze on him a little longer, but then smiled and dropped her hands, turning around to head towards the door she came from. "Come on," she said, motioning for him to follow. "I'd like to show you something."

James followed after her, and wordlessly they stepped through the door and walked through a short, dim hallway.

"The three of us live here," she said as she stopped in front of another door, leaning on the doorframe. "It's been an interesting last several years, and it was tough at first, but I've grown to like my life here. Maybe your life at Terra would be similar."

James paused in the hallway, standing a comfortable distance away with his hands in his pockets.

"That's what I'm hoping," he said. "I'm sure I'll feel more settled with time."

Tula let out a small chuckle. "Right. With time. That's a time joke, right?"

James smiled, but it wasn't real.

"I'll pretend it was intentional," he said.

She lightly smiled back and kept her eyes on him for a little bit before speaking again. "Have you met any interesting people, or seen any interesting sights in Terra?" she asked.

It was a generic question, but James couldn't help but feel like it was strangely - or very intentionally - worded.

"Well, I met Zameer's uncle Josiah," James said. "He's not very chatty, but he's a good man. And then there's my neighbor Isabel. She's quite the opposite as far as talkativeness goes, but still good company."

"Mmm, you've met Josiah, of course," she said with a brief nod. "He comes by sometimes. It's been a while, though. But it seems that your Isabel would give you better company. He's not any chattier even with Zameer."

James shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with that, really," he said. "People use their words sparingly for all sorts of reasons."

Tula leaned her head back, keeping her eyes on him with a slight smile. "I agree," she said. "I think language is mostly expressed by how you show it. You can have a whole conversation without speaking."

James wasn't sure if there was an underlying message there - maybe there was, but he chose not to read into it at the moment.

"True," he said. "I think in order to do that, though, you kind of need to know the person well already. So you can know with certainty what certain looks mean."

"Not necessarily," she countered. "Sometimes, expressions slip when you least expect it. You think no one's watching, so you can get more careless with how you present yourself."

If James didn't know any better (and he did) he'd think she was talking about him. But he was going to continue to talk like they were discussing people in general.

"Fair," he said. "Though... I think sometimes we tend to assume things that aren't true. For example, someone might look uncomfortable, but there could be a million different reasons why. And more often than not, it has nothing to do with us."

Tula slightly narrowed her eyes at him, but then her smile grew ever-so-slightly as she let a small silence pass between them.

"You're quite insightful," she commented. "And wise."

"I'll put that on my resume," he said.

Tula laughed through her nose and shook her head, standing straight and opening the door in front of her, presumably her bedroom.

"Come on," she said as she gestured him inside. "I want to show you something."

Why did he feel like he was walking into another trap? At least the massage chair didn't want to have his kids.

James followed in, and though he didn't show it, he was wary.