Young Writers Society

To put things simply, we have to save the world.

Not too bad, right? We've all heard stories about chosen ones. They get a mentor, preferably some particularly wise guy, and they teach them the secrets of the universe. They go on an epic quest. They learn some sappy lesson about the power of love. Then they beat up the bad guy and call it a day.

The end!

But those stories never account for all of the things that could possibly go wrong. They never talk about what happens when the chosen ones only have a string of poorly maintained blogs and an old book written in a dead language to tell them what they need to do. Chosen ones never have to push aside their incredibly important destiny to write an essay that's due next class. They almost always know exactly who the bad guy is.

And that's where we come in.

We're your unconventional group of teenage heroes. We've got our fair share of school stress, sleep deprivation and general lack of time management. Our prophecy came from the internet, we learned how to fight from movies and barely any of us can drive. Our epic quest's funds come from a combination of minimum wage and weekly allowances.

Somehow, we're going to save the world.

1.) @Saen
2.) @Tortwag
3.) @Lael
4.) @Feltrix
5.) @Poopsie
6.) @Thundahguy
7.) @TheBlueCat
8.) @Sheyren

Puck was the type of person who avoided worrying about inconsequential things. She had never been the type to cry over spilled milk. Though she and the feeling of regret were well acquainted, she considered it to be a sin of sorts. By focusing on what was lost, she was unable to focus on what lay ahead of her. Her entire high school career had been built upon the principle of moving forward. If she hadn't made a desire for progress one of her motivators, she doubted she would have gotten as far as she had.

But herein lay the problem: if the thing that Puck had managed to lose was of particular importance to her, her lack of experience would lead her to act recklessly. Her actions would become frantic, and the mask of an impressively relaxed teenager would be roughly torn away to reveal an anxious mess.

And this is why Puck was running from classroom to classroom in a constant state of out-of-breath.

She had never been the athletic type, but the loss of her current most valuable possession had triggered some ancient ability within her. She could somehow ignore the aching of her limbs and the large gulps of air she needed to take as she skid into the next room, as long as it would eventually lead to being reunited with her beloved book.

The lost and found in the office hadn't had it. It hadn't been on the librarian's desk in the library. It hadn't even been in the classrooms she had been in the day before. It might be at home, she desperately tried to reason, but she knew that that couldn't be the case. She had searched high and low for it the previous night when she couldn't find it in her backpack.

She dashed up the stairs. There had been a GSA meeting the day before. Maybe, just maybe, it had fallen out of her bag. Mr. Renere would have kept the book on his desk. All that she needed to do was go in there and check. Even if there was a substitute, the room would still be open. She took another large gulp of air. Of course. It had to be in there! She and her latest project would soon be reunited.

The door to the classroom was open! With an extra boost of speed, she dashed towards the classroom. The few students that had arrived at school before she did gave her strange looks, but they quickly stepped out of her way. She came to a halt when entered the classroom. Mr. Renere was sitting at the desk, typing away on his school issued laptop. Upon hearing Puck arrive, he raised his head.

He took in the red-cheeked, worried face of his student with wide eyes. He had only come to the school in September; this was the first time he had seen Puck's cool demeanor disappear. Most teachers had similar reactions when they first saw her carefully crafted persona break. Only the ones who had known her since she was a freshman were adequately prepared to deal with her when she was in such a state.

“What's wrong, Keira?” Mr. Renere hurriedly asked.

She took a quick swig from her water bottle. Her throat felt like it was on fire, and the water briefly doused its flames. “The book,” she simply said in between two deep breaths. Her eyes were starting to get moist. Any moment now, tears were about to fall.

The poor teacher could only give her a blank stare. While Puck thought her answer gave all the information that could possibly be needed, Mr. Renere found the explanation to be lacking. Puck gestured wildly at her backpack and at the desk. It was the book that she had been carrying for the past week, and it should have been somewhere in the room!

Luckily, for both the confused teacher and the exasperated student, a passing teacher saw the failed conversation and decided to intervene. This teacher was one of the few experts when it came to Puck; her Latin teacher, who had taught her since she had entered the high school. Ms. Brooks could read the now sobbing girl like a book, though this talent had come at the price of being there for the majority of Puck's meltdowns.

“What happened to your book, Puck?” she carefully asked. Puck had shown her the book after she had bought it from the bookstore. She knew how much the junior treasured her latest discovery.

Grabbing a handful of tissues from the nearby tissue box, Puck blew her nose. “I lost it!” was the frantic reply. “It must have fallen out of my bag yesterday but I can't find it anywhere and it wasn't at home and I think it might be here because there was a GSA meeting yesterday and...and...and...” She slowly looked over at the desk. Her gaze immediately dropped to the floor when she realized her guess had been wrong. The book wasn't there.

Ms. Brooks came to the same conclusion that Puck did. Handing her another tissue, she promised, “I'll keep an eye out for your book, Puck.”

The shaking girl eagerly took the tissue and blew her nose for a second time. With a disheartened nod, she turned and left the classroom. She had loved that book. After discovering it in one of the bookstores around town, she had decided to translate it. She had known it wouldn't be an easy task, but the challenge had been fun. Why did she have to lose something that she loved so dearly?

She bumped into someone in the now crowded hallway. “Hey! Watch where you're going-” Erin Harper started to say, only to fall silent when they saw the state their classmate was in. His friends (Valentine Livingstone, Ashwin Patel and Nico Ringo) all had similar reactions. Seeing the four around the school normally didn't bother her, but now the sight of them made her want to cry even harder than before – she had always dreamed of being part of a group like theirs.

“Bubbly Puck?” Nico Ringo questioned. They barely spoke anymore, and the awkward conversation was a painful reminder of that. “What happened-”

Before the other girl had even finished her sentence, Puck had gone racing down the hallway, furiously trying to wipe the tears that stubbornly continued to fall.

Nico Ringo let out a sigh – the sigh of the one who knew. Of course, all of them had been surprised by the scene that played before their eyes, but obviously, Nico Ringo herself had no shame to worry about, no awkwardness to care about, no doubt to cloud her judgment. She simply… did things, because she knew what to do. She trusted her instincts and experiences, and used such tools to shape her actions in the world she lived in.
...Although, she had to admit, it didn't necessarily mean she enjoyed all of her actions, and she could already tell that the following one was going to bring in some annoying results.

“Go on without me, fellas.” Nico Ringo said, breaking the silence with the calming hammer that was her voice. “Nico Ringo’s got this one.”

“You mean the girl, or the solution to whatever that was?” Ashwin inquired with curiosity.

Nico Ringo frowned. “I’m not into girls that badly.”

“Yeah,” Erin objected, “but who knows what you could do to one if you were–”

“Finish that sentence and I violently finger your cheeks.”

“I don’t see the pro–”

“For three… Minutes.”

Erin blinked. “...Fine, but I can still think it.”

“Make sure you’re back before the bell rings.” Ashwin advised.

“I’ll try. No promises.” with that said, Nico Ringo walked away, waving a stern goodbye at her friends – with, as usual, only the silent Valentine bothering to wave back. She couldn’t help but think how well they’d grown – a few months ago Erin would’ve been shocked at the mere mention of their dislike to physical contact, and she would’ve strangled them for implying she was some sort of sexual predator. And then Ashwin would’ve been strangled for being Ashwin – but to be fair, he’d probably see something sensible and would nod in agreement, with Valentine watching in the sidelines, head-bobbing to some glorious soundtrack.
That thought almost made Nico Ringo chuckle.

Luckily for her, Nico Ringo always walked fast, and she didn’t need to look very far to find her target. She, of course, crossed quite a few students as she walked, as the time for class was near, but no odd looks were given to her – from her knowledge, they either assumed she was a troublemaker not to be messed with, or would do something unexpected that they’d hear from anyway. Nico Ringo couldn’t help but thinking if they would hear about this one. Mm. It would depend on Bubbly Puck. And speaking of her, there she was, just outside the school, standing alone in the garden by her favorite reading spot aside the study hall – by a lone green tree and its equally green bush, although both seemed to have lost a bit of their colors with the coming winter. Bubbly Puck, or rather Keira, was standing with her hand on the tree, and eyes locked on the bush’s leaves. From time to time, she sniffed pathetically, and it took her a long minute to finally jerk her head towards Nico Ringo, who was staring at her silently.

It was strange for Nico Ringo to finally bring herself alone in front of this face after so long, and for some reason, she was angry at it. Not because they had stopped talking to each other – that was life, and life was cruel and ruthless – nor because of her jolly nature. No, it was because of her sadness. The drop of snot she was trying to hold inside her reddened noise, her green eyes, widened in guilty surprise, or her tiny lips forgetting to gasp for air properly – all irritating indications that she wasn’t in her usual mood. It was like her entire face felt off – like her facial structure wasn’t designed for negativity. The very fact that it had been affected by it anyway was annoying.
Ah, but maybe Keira thought Nico Ringo’s predatory glare was directed at her. Something should be done about that hypothesis.

“Haven’t seen you cry since you lost a treasure chest to Spinni in Mouse Attack.” Nico Ringo began. “Get a grip, will ya?”

Keira let a timid smile decorate her sad face. “It’s… It’s Kirby Squeak Squad in the US.” she corrected.

“I know.”

“...Then...”

“Because, Bubbly Puck.” Nico Ringo interrupted, closing her eyes as she turned around to leave. “You’re designed to smile and laugh.” with that said, she took a single step forward.

“Wait!”

Nico Ringo allowed a smirk to decorate her face for a split second. Predictable.

“I–I… You’re not… mad, right?”

Nico Ringo slowly turned around, her grin having, of course, disappeared a long time ago. She contemplated Keira once more, watching as she anxiously twisted her hands. “I never told you why I call you Bubbly Puck.” Nico Ringo said.

Keira tilted her head on the side, intrigued – ah, finally, something other than sadness.

“Squeak Squad was the one game we shared together. We challenged ourselves to complete it while using one Copy Ability of our choice, remember?”

Keira’s eyes brightened as she nodded. “You chose Magic. And I chose Bubble.”

“And you know what?” Nico Ringo suddenly speed-walked towards Keira and slammed her palm against the tree next to her face, locking her eyes into hers. “You. As a Bubble Kirby. That’s the cutest possible thing in existence. So go back to being that. I don’t know what happened to you this morning, but I do know you’ve wasted enough time being anything else.” Nico Ringo removed her hand and turned back for good, directing herself back inside the school, dodging the numerous pupils that entered it. She let out a sigh, unsure if her gamble would be successful. But what was done was done – for the rest, she’d deal with the consequences as usual.







“Welcome back, Sin.” Erin greeted as Nico Ringo walked towards her group after class. “How was your date?”

“Hate you too, Harpy.” Nico Ringo replied as she approached their table, slightly isolated from the other tables of the Study Hall. They had purposely placed themselves next to a window and were bathing in the exterior sunlight.

“You’ll know the result of the ‘date’ depending if Bubbly Puck’s smiling again tomorrow or not.” Nico Ringo continued. “Sorry I didn’t join in during class, y’all, I just didn’t wanna be late. There’s still not much homework for the rest of the week, apparently.”

“I'm sure it’s normal, Nico Ringo. Christmas is coming soon.” Ashwin reasoned.

“Hmm… I dunno, I’ve been used to getting more homework before holidays.” Nico Ringo argued, placing her hands on a chair’s back. “Maybe it’s a Spanish thing.”

“Wait, but haven’t you been here for about as much as your time in Spain by now?”

“Yeah, but nothing really felt different until this year, school-wise. Must be ‘cause I’m a senior. Maybe Huntsville itself is just more chill.”

“Less shootings, less thefts and less info coverage.” Erin enumerated. "Yeah, Huntsville is definitely more chill.”

“But still as much bullying.” Ashwin commented.

“But still as much stupid bullying.” the three others repeated in sync, with even Valentine joining in despite wearing his earphones. They knew he always put his music low enough to hear everything, but it was always a pleasant surprise to have him join the fun.

“We’re basically immune to it by now, though.” Nico Ringo concluded in a satisfied note. “I’ll go see if they have the second book of Hope & Red. Be right back.”

“Wasn’t the series called Empire of Storms?” Ashwin inquired.

Nico Ringo shrugged. “Less catchy to me.” She moved to Valentine’s position and tapped on his shoulder once – which, meant that though she needed his attention, he didn’t need to remove his earphones. Valentine turned his head towards her, and she pointed as his book before raising her eyebrows. Should I get one for you?

Valentine offered a brief smile and shook his head, to which Nico Ringo replied with a thumbs up. She walked away from the table, moving towards the Study Hall’s Fantasy Book section. Empire of Storms was more of a mix between fantasy ans science fiction, but by now she had been used to the school categorizing these things in ways they shouldn’t. Looking at the letter J for Jon Skovron, Nico Ringo noticed that only the first book was available. Guess I’ll have to buy the second one. She thought to herself before leaving the spot. Then, her foot bumped a plastic school bin – in how many different places of the study hall she had seen that poor thing? – and she gazed down, frowning. Below the papers, she could see an old book cover. “Really?” she whispered out loud, shaking her head before removing the abandoned book from its spot.
The world was really going mad if random students threw away library books in bins they barely fit into.
Seeing no title on the cover, Nico Ringo opened its first pages. It seemed to be written in Latin, although the first few lines were already translated with random scribbles of words like “weapons,” “to fight”, and quickly explained guessed of sentence meanings. Some words even seemed eerily similar to Spanish, but Nico Ringo supposed it was normal. Intrigued, she walked back to her friends’ table, putting the book on the table. “So, random jerks put ancient books in bins now?” Nico Ringo said to them. “Found this instead of what I wanted.”

The group gazed at the book, equally intrigued. Nico Ringo couldn’t help but wonder, as she looked along, why was it that the book felt so… Familiar.

Ashwin Patel - Google Translate

Ashwin opened his front door, ushering his guests behind him to follow. He removed his shoes, telling the others to do as well. While they removed theirs, Ashwin walked up to his brother, Pradeep, waiting on the stairs. The sounds of two adults arguing in a foreign language could be heard coming from the second floor.

“What are they yelling about now?” Ashwin asked his brother, taking his jacket off.
“You, again,” Pradeep answered in a groan. “They found out about your game tournaments.”

“And who’s on which side.”

“I think Dad’s mad that you went without their permission, but Mom sounds angrier. I can’t translate angry talk well, you know.”

“Okay then. Tell them I won’t be up for dinner. My friends and I will be in the basement. I still have some leftover pizza in the fridge.”

“You sure? We’re having dosa tonight.”

“I never liked dosa. You know that.”

Pradeep went up the stairs to confront their parents while Ashwin opened the door to the basement. He gestured his friends to follow him down.

“You seem to have a happy family here,” Erin commented. Ashwin ignored them, leading his three guests into the basement. Switching on the single light revealed a low table and bean bags on top of a dusty carpet, a mini-fridge next to a bookcase and leather couch, and a computer set up against the pink foam walling.

“Sit anywhere you’d like,” Ashwin said, turning on his computer and sitting in his seat. Nico Ringo jumped onto the couch immediately, with Erin following her. Val slumped into one of the bean bags, overestimating its tensile strength, and was further absorbed into its folds. He didn’t bother to readjust himself. “There’s pizza if you guys want some. Only plain cheese, though.”

“How about we actually get to the reason we’re here,” Nico Ringo offered, fishing out the strange book she had found earlier from her backpack. While very few words inscribed inside had been translated, the majority had not. The group had decided to translate the rest. Surely with four people, it would be a breeze.

“So, what is this book exactly?” Erin asked. They were an introvert, Ashwin had figured out. They weren’t the best on speaking terms, but Erin would occasionally crack some kind of quip occasionally. He never had anything to say back, of course.

“Looks old,” Val mumbled. Ashwin didn’t really understand him as much. He always wore headphones but kept it low enough that he could hear everything. He was abnormally quiet as well. They had both been caught with things on their heads in school, him with his headphones, and Ashwin with his hood. It had developed into a sense of comradery more than actual friendship.

“If only Bubbly Puck was here. She reads a lot of fae stuff, so maybe she knows what this is,” Nico Rico sighed. Out of everyone, Nico Ringo was the hardest to handle. Her insistence on her full name was something Ashwin never forgot, especially after the two times she’s literally kicked his butt for calling her only Nico. She was on more friendly terms with both Erin and Val, though. She was essentially the glue that held the group together.

“We’re dealing with an ancient language, not fairies,” Ashwin said, opening up his browser and going to Google Translate. “Give me the words and I’ll put them in.”

Erin picked up the book, trying to decipher what the letters said. “I think this says… F-U-I…”

“L. It’s an L,” Nico Ringo said, taking the book out of his hands. “F-U-L-G-U-R.”

Ashwin typed the letters into the box, and the word “Lightning” popped in the other. He smiled, realizing it probably wasn’t going to take long until he realized that there were fourteen other translations. Brightness. Flash. Splendor, of all things. “There are different meanings to 'fulgur'. What’s the next word.”

“Uh… I-E-I-U-N-I-U-N… Wait, no. M. Ieiunium.”

“Does Latin really have that many vowels in a word?” Val asked, taking a picture of the second page with his phone.

“It’s a dead language for a reason, right?” Ashwin said, putting the letters into the box. “And that is… fast. Also, starvation. But it’s probably fast. Two words done. Now just… a whole book left.”

~
The sun had set a few hours ago, and only stray moonbeams came through the single window. Pop cans had been left everywhere as the quartet continued to translate through the book. Nico Ringo had taken over the entirety of the couch, laying on her front scribbling down what was in the book. Ashwin sat at his computer dreary eyed, translating each word and what their meanings could be. Erin sat at the table, trying to make sense of the wording style. Val was still stuck in the bean bag, his mouth filled with a slice of pizza, translating whatever Erin gave him through his phone.

“Blade… or is this iron?” Erin asked.

“Blades are made of iron, are they not?” Nico Ringo said.

“I thought I put sword there?” Ashwin mentioned.

“Theef ivnt gung anniewur,” Val mumbled, pizza still in his mouth.

“How about we take a break. Surely we’ve translated an entire page, right? Nico Ringo suggested. The other three had no complaints. Ashwin and Nico got up from their seats, while Val nudged the bean bag towards the table. Erin picked up the first page, reading it aloud.

“Disaster and lightning fast… disasters? With eight iron mystics, can the threat of… poverty be averted… What?” Erin mumbled through.

“Mierda! All we’ve translated was a bunch of garbage!” Nico Ringo exclaimed.

“I tolf yu theef ivnt gung anniewur,” Val said, before biting into the pizza and letting it drop back onto the plate in his lap. “This wasn’t going to work. Relying on Google was a bad decision from the beginning. This is probably some older kind of Latin as well.”

“Should’ve been obvious when we translated ‘weapons’ into ‘shoulder.’” Erin muttered.

“So we’ve spent an evening making even less sense out of a book we couldn’t understand before…” Ashwin said what everyone was thinking. He walked back to his computer, shutting it off, and handed the book to Nico. “You guys might as well go now. We aren’t going to make any actual progress today.”

The four grimly walked back up the stairs to the first floor. Up there, Pradeep, as well as Ashwin’s sister, Simran, stood patiently.

“Mom wants to talk to you,” Pradeep said.

“She wants to know what you’ve been doing in the basement,” Simran said next.

“We’ve done nothing down there. Literally,” Ashwin muttered, leading his friends to the door.

“I didn’t know you had cute younger siblings,” Nico Ringo whispered to Ashwin.

“Don’t try going after them,” Ashwin said, before receiving a solid fist into his gut. The three promptly left, as Ashwin closed the door and started to climb up the stairs.

“Mom is still waiting for you,” Simran repeated. Ashwin audibly yawned before looking at his two siblings.

“I’m tired, so just tell her I’m going to sleep. There’s some pizza still left if you’ll take a bribe.” With those words, Ashwin continued up the stairs and into his room, leaving his sibling to deal with their mother’s anger.

Valentine Livingstone | ɘnoƚƨǫnivi⅃ ɘniƚnɘlɒV

VmFsZW50aW5lIExpdmluZ3N0b25l

No one was home. The lights were off, but Val turned them on when he entered. Past the main entry hall was the kitchen, and attached to the fridge was a note in his mother’s handwriting. At the hospital still… will be home later. Val shrugged, opening the fridge to see if she had made anything for him. She had understandably not, since Gram had kept her so occupied. No matter, he wasn’t all too hungry anyway, and he certainly wasn’t going to try cooking. The fire department didn’t need to trouble themselves tonight.

Heading upstairs, he peeked in his father’s room. It was empty, so his father must be working late. Lastly, Alice wasn’t making loud noises from the basement, so she must be at a friend’s house or something. Val let out a sigh of relief that he was home, finally alone. No one to bother him, so no reason to keep his music low. With a smile, he turned up the volume on his phone, feeling the music blasting in his ears.

Just like any other night, Val sat at his desk completing the homework assigned that day. It took him a long time to complete, despite not being too complicated, because writing had always been difficult. If certain letters or words were written to darkly, he would have to go back and rewrite the line or phrase. But again, this was just like any other night, and he ultimately completed the work by around ten, at which point he was tired and retired for the evening.

Unable to sleep, Val laid in bed, browsing the news on his browser. Politics consumed the bulk of ‘breaking news’, which came far short of interesting Val. The rest of the news consisted of miscellaneous information, such as the new event in this game, or the effect of pencil lead on that group of children, etc. It was no different than any other day’s news, and therefore wasn’t really news in any sense of the world. Val went to close the browser and then subsequently his eyes, but one news story, tucked away at the bottom of the screen, caught his eyes.

The article’s title had been left blank, and the news provider was one Val had never seen before. It was some Latin phrase, but Val was too interested in the material within the article to translate. The article read:



Naturally Val recognized that it was written in binary code. That was normal, right? No matter, He thought as he pasted the coding into a translator. In return, the decoder gave him “c2hvcnQgYW5kIHdpc2UgbWFzdGVyIG9mIGxhbmd1YWdlcw0KeW91bmcgZ2lybCB3aG8gY
2FuJ3Qgc2VlIGNvbG9ycw0KbmV3Y29tZXIgZmlnaHRpbmcgaGlzIGludGVybmFsIGRlbW9uc
w0KbWlzY2hpZXZvdXMgc3ByaXRlIG9mIGEgZ2lybA==”. Val stared at the end result. It was complete gibberish. He groaned in embarrassment, realizing he had allowed himself to be captivated by some internet prankster’s trick.

Now angry, Val threw off his headphones and closed down his phone. Rolling over on his side, he closed his eyes tight, trying to force sleep upon himself. Despite admittedly still being captivated by the gibberish he had disregarded, sleep eventually took him.



The sound of Val’s phone dinging to acknowledge a text woke him the next morning. It was very early, about 4:30, and school wouldn’t start for another few hours. Who on Earth was texting him at this hour? Turning the phone on, he saw a text from a considerably unusual phone number. (҉0҉0҉0҉)҉-҉0҉0҉0҉-҉0҉0҉0҉0҉. Val was well confident that number could and should not exist. Ignoring the risk of virus, his curiosity got the best of him, and he clicked the message.

“1 – B
2 – T
3 – S
4 – F
5 – I
6 – H
7 – X
8 – U
9 – R”

It was clear that the objective of the message was to offer a decoder, but Val didn’t know what to decode with it. Did it have something to do with the news article last night?

“You up?”

A text from Nico Ringo interrupted his thoughts. He went to reply, but stopped.

“I got this weird text this morning”

Nico Ringo’s number. Her phone number. (152)-357-4089.

“How about you?”

Pulling up the text from the strange number earlier, Val decided to test something. There was no 0 on the decoding key, so he assumed it represented the letter O. After running Nico Ringo’s number through the system of translation, he was met with BIT SIX FOUR. Strange. A quick google search informed that Bit64 was a code, and after seeing some examples, he recognized it.

The gibberish from last night was not just gibberish. It was Bit64 code. Val hurried to return to the page and copy the code. He pasted it into a Bit64 decoder, and hit enter. What came up was a strange list of descriptions.

“short and wise master of languages
young girl who can't see colors
newcomer fighting his internal demons
mischievous sprite of a girl”

Val stared at it. Clearly someone had gone through the trouble of giving him this information, so it must mean something. And yet, he couldn’t figure out what. In fact, he couldn’t even decipher what this was supposed to be, forget why it was sent.

“yeah i did”

He sent a text back to Nico Ringo before placing his phone face down on the nightstand and trying to get back to sleep. The phone dinged again, and he ignored it with a groan. Another ding. Another. Oh my Lord, shut up, Nico Ringo, he thought, further ignoring it.

After the eighth ding, he finally opened the phone. The texts were not from Nico Ringo; they were from the strange, impossible number Val had received texts from the previous night. Each text contained one letter, but the eight texts together formed one word, and one word only.

Eʀɪɴ Hᴀʀᴘᴇʀ

"That is... weird," Erin said. They, Nico Ringo, Ashwin, and Val were clustered around a bowl of chips in Ashwin's basement.

"Yeah," Val agreed.

"We've all gotten the same overly complex and cryptic 'prophecy-'" Nico Ringo made finger quotes around the word. "-via Facebook at the exact same time. Weird is an understatement."

"Only you got it by email," Ashwin corrected. "I was emailed, Val was texted, and Erin got it on snapchat."

"Whatever," Nico Ringo said. "Why would someone go to all this trouble?"

"It must be some sort of prank," Val said.

"Too elaborate," Erin said. "And... pointless. We're not really being pranked, just sent random stuff online."

"Could it be some sort of scam or virus?" Nico Ringo suggested.

"If it was a virus, it wouldn't take into account the fact that we know each other," Ashwin said. "And it would only have used one method of social media. And this is too strange to be a scam."

Val reached for the potato chips, which rested in a wooden salad bowl on the floor. "So, where do we go from here?"

There was a brief pause. "The 'prophecy' mentioned people, right?" Valentine said. "'Master of languages' and all that. Maybe if we can find those people, they'll know more."

"They could be anywhere, though," Erin said. "And none of the descriptions were at all specific."

"Do you have any better ideas?" Nico Ringo said.

"...No."

"Then quit being a pessimist and let's get to work."

Nico Ringo was right. Erin was a pessimist. But there was also something about all this, something that Erin hadn't shared with their friends that their message had contained something that no one in Huntsville aside from their parents could know. Information about Sarah Waters. Erin had no idea who could be sending these messages, but they were determined to find out as much as possible.

"Okay," Ashwin said. "So, the lines are as follows:

"The short and wise master of languages,

"The young girl who can't see colors,

"The newcomer fighting his internal demons,

"A mischievous sprite of a girl."

No one said anything for a moment.

"I've got it!" Erin said.

"Really?" Val asked.

"Of course not," they said. "These made more sense when they were computer gibberish."

"Harper, I will smush your face with my hand," Nico Ringo threatened.

"I might have something," Ashwin said. "'The young girl who can't see colors.' Could that be Alexandria Desai? I'm pretty sure she's color blind."

"That... actually seems plausible," Erin conceded. "But that still leaves three random people out there."

"Well, we know the newcomer is a boy 'cause it says 'his,' and the mischievous sprite is a girl," Val pointed out.

"Fantastic, Livingstone," Erin drawled. "You've narrowed it down to half of the population of the planet Earth. What would we do without you?"

Val rolled his eyes. "Okay, but do we know anyone with internal demons or any mischievous sprites or masters of languages?"

"Emilio Márquez is pretty short," Ashwin said.

"Yeah, but he can barely understand one language," Nico Ringo said. "He is not a master of languages."

"What about Jenna Chang?" Val said. "I think she knows, three-ish languages. And she's really good in ELA."

"Also, she's short," Erin said.

"There is that," Nico Ringo agreed. "Hey, do you think the mischievous sprite is Bubbly Puck?"

Erin's eyebrow arched. "'Bubbly Puck?'"

"Keira Stirling," she explained. "She's pretty, um..."

"If you finish that sentence with 'bubbly...'"

"...mischievous? Spritely? Okay, fine, bubbly."

"Sure, but a lot of people fit that description," Val observed. "Like Anderson Radcliffe. And a bunch of other people."

"True," Nico Ringo admitted. "But I'll talk to her first. I know her, so it will be less awkward if I show up talking about a prophecy from Facebook."

Erin smirked. "Are you sure that's the only reason?"

"Shut up."

"Okay, that just leaves 'the newcomer fighting his internal demons,'" Ashwin said. "Do you think it's that kid, Bruce Fleming? He's new to Huntsville, and he broods."

Val smirked and began quietly chuckling.

"What?" Ashwin asked.

"Oh, nothing," he said. "But trust me, demons are not his internal problem."

Erin wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, but they decided to move on to more important things.

"Who uses the word 'brood?'" Erin said.

Everyone ignored them.

"Maybe it's Lucas Blane," Nico Ringo suggested.

"He's not really a newcomer," Val said. "He moved to Huntsville, what was it, three years ago?"

"How about Joon Harrelson?" Erin suggested.

There was a brief pause.

"I can't think of any better candidates," Ashwin said.

"Hey, you were actually constructive for once!" Nico Ringo said. "Good job, Erin."

"Okay, so we've got our four prophecy people," Val said. "We should try to talk to them tomorrow."

"We're most sure of Alexandria Desai," Ashwin said. "So we should probably go to her first."

"Alright," Nico Ringo said. "It's a plan. Meeting adjourned, or whatever."

Alexandria Desai

"Okay class, listen up! You have a research paper on your selected country due next week. Specifications are on the paper I'm passing out now. Don't lose it!" The teacher, a tall women of about 30, informed her homeroom World History class. Soft groans emanated from the majority of the class.

Short curly brown hair bouncing, the teacher started passing out her stack of papers. As she slid one onto Alexa's desk, Alexa picking it up and started skimming over it as the bell started ringing. Research paper on selected county... Any independent country... 3 pages long... Works cited page... Research any important facts about your country... Must be typed... Times News Roman 12-point font. Well, this should be fun! Alexa thought.

Shoving her miscellaneous loose papers into her World History notebook, she gathered up her various writing supplies into her pencil case and slipped both into her worn black and green striped backpack along with various other notebooks, textbooks and loose papers. Slinging it onto her shoulder, she ambled toward to door, waiting for the flood of students rushing out to calm down.

As the students stopped cramming themselves through the doorway, Alexa slipped out and started heading toward her next class, which happened to be Chemistry. She didn't have to be there for a while, but it was nice to not have to hurry or cram into the classroom with all the other students at the same time. Walking down the hall, she felt a light tapping on her shoulder.

"Alexandria?" called the voice behind her.

She was a little annoyed at the person for using her full name, but curious as to whom would be wanting to talk to her, so she spun around and was slightly startled at the sight of one of the friend groups consisting of Nico Ringo, the one who had gotten her attention, as well as Ashwin, Erin and Val. She was surprised at their sudden interest in her, but her curiosity was strong.

“Alexa. But yes?” Alexa asked.

“We have a weird, let’s say story, for you.” Nico Ringo began, then launched directly into her ‘story’.

“Long story short, each of us got really weird text messages from this number that shouldn’t exist with some crazy details about our lives that we might have never told anybody. Val decoded this article that was in binary, then it turned into gibberish which was actually Bit64 code. Once translated it gave us a bunch of weird descriptions for a supposed prophecy that Ashwin, Erin, Val and I are a part of along with 4 more people.” She stopped abruptly and stared at Alexa.

Alexa raised an eyebrow. “So you’re telling me that some weird guy messaged y’all and now you think y’all and four others are part of a prophecy?”

“Well, yes.”

Alexa leaned against the wall and sighed. “You didn’t think about scammers?”

“We did, but it just seemed really hard for a scammer to get such personal information or go through so much trouble to give us this.” Nico Ringo defended.

“Okay, so why are you telling me this?” Alexa questioned.

“We think that you are part of it. One of the descriptions was young girl who can't see colors. I’m pretty sure you’re the only colorblind person in the school.”

“First of all, I can see some colors, just not all of them. Secondly, this is the reason you think I’m part of a prophecy?” she queried.

“Fine, but yes. And you’re younger than everyone else in your grade, so the ‘young girl’ part.”

Alexa threw her hands up. “Oh all right. You got the best of my curiosity. I’m in.”

“Good. Now we just need to figure out the other three people.” Nico Ringo concluded.

“Wait, so you don’t know who these others are?” Alexa asked.

“We have some guesses, as well as clues.” Nico Ringo started down the hallway with the other three behind. Alexa hesitated but tagged along, sighing. Well this day just got weird. I don’t even fully know what my curiosity has gotten me into. I just hope I don’t regret this.

The bell rung, and Jenna quickly got up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and hurrying out the door towards the cafeteria. Like she often did, she was reminded of how back at her old school, when possible, the kids used to crowd at the entrance of the classroom at the end of every class, ready to throw the door open at sound of the bell and charge down the congested hallways.

But here, everything felt wrong. Practically everyone in the grade knew each other here, while she estimated she was unknown to at least eighty percent of her class back in Houston. She had to admit, it was nice not feeling like she was packed into an ancient tin of sardines - one with an overabundance of germs and students (although many were still the same giants here as well, without so much consideration for short people). There was also the fact that this high school wasn't quite as rigorous as hers, which was a plus.

But to Jenna, there was something nice about her old school, regardless of all the times she had complained and called it a jail. The diversity, for one, she thought as she gave a small wave to some of her new classmates, whom she still didn't know too well and nearly all of whom were not Asian. She doubted that she'd become close friends with anyone in just a year, and that was okay. She'd rolled with that for almost her whole life. Until she finally had a best friend, who was still back in Texas.

Stella Eimer had just been any other casual friend of Jenna's for the longest time until their junior year, when Stella had reached out to her after having a fallout with her own friend group. They had always gotten along very well, and, despite outward appearance and first impressions, were quite alike. From that point on, days at school were filled with smiles and laughter, even talk about the silliest things. The loneliness diminished. Jenna believed that those were the happiest times of her life.

Until her parents had pulled them all together and announced that the family was moving to the Northeast for her dad's work. No, she wasn't resentful, and she wasn't throwing tantrums about being uprooted from the only place she had ever called home, but it certainly was lonely and rather depressing. Things had only just started to get better. She and Stella had planned to audition to perform a K-pop dance (even though Jenna doubted her dancing abilities) at the cultural festival during senior year, and Jenna had imagined many more days of hanging out at Stella's house just chilling. But apparently life wouldn't have it that way. Plus, that meant she wouldn't get to see her older sister, Kris, for most of the year since she was already in college.

She arrived to the cafeteria and sat down at her usual spot, regretfully an empty table, as her brother Peter, a junior, had fortunately found a few friends to stick with. Who needs friends? she thought to herself. I'm going to join Kris after graduating, anyways. Most high school friendships rarely last.

Jenna pulled out her homemade lunch readily. (Much to her disappointment, the cafeteria food was just as bad as any American high school.) Her mom had made curry chicken; though Jenna struggled with tolerating the spiciness, she still liked it very much. At least it was one thing to look forward to.

As she was stuffing the first bite of chicken into her mouth, a group of kids sat down around her. The room suddenly felt a lot smaller.

"Hey, Jenna," said Nico Ringo.

Jenna stiffened and warily glanced at her and the rest of her friends, but she quickly chewed and swallowed the spicy chicken - the pain - and pasted on a smile to hide the nervousness about social blunders building up inside of her. "Hey, what's up?" Totally not suspicious. They've never done this before.

"We have something we need to tell you," replied Nico Ringo. "You see, me, Val, Ashwin, and Erin all received some messages that were really weird, with personal information random people out there shouldn't know. And then we discovered this thing, a prophecy, that involve us four, and four more people. Alexa is one of them." She gestured to another girl at the table, who Jenna recognized as a junior.

"And . . ." Jenna was rather confused and a bit creeped out as to why they were telling her all this information, which seemed rather nonsensical. She loved a good fantasy herself, but in real life? Impossible. "This has to do with me, somehow?"

"That's right! One of the descriptions of the four we have to find is the 'short and wise master of languages'. We think that's you."

Jenna fought to keep her expression relatively neutral. At that moment, the thought that her chicken was getting cold entered her mind.

"Are you sure this isn't some sort of . . . trick?" she asked slowly. "I mean, I do know more than one language well, but 'master of languages' is generic. And pointing out my height, as proud of it as I am?"

"Oh, we considered that, but no one should know this much about us. We were just wondering if you could help us figure things out."

Jenna paused. What if they were trying to play her somehow? She knew that some people were nasty like that. But what if it was real? her mind whispered.

"Okay," she said. That didn't mean that she believed them, but she'd play along for now. The possible implications behind their revelation were very dark. At least it seemed safe enough for now that she didn't have to tell her parents just yet.

She turned back to her chicken. "Have a great lunch, y'all."

Joon waited calmly for the line of students to thin. They poured out of double doors at the front of the school and down the stone steps into the courtyard filled with big family cars loitering at the curb. He knew his car wouldn’t be there; mom worked late and the metro stop was only a few blocks away. He thought he’d wait for Lily this time, she’d mentioned she also took the metro home and he figured he didn’t like going alone. A few minutes of standing around produced nothing. Joon was just about to give up and walk the block or so to the bus stop when someone grabbed his shoulder. A girl dressed head to toe in military regalia looked steadily up at him. When he’d completely faced her she took her hand from his shoulder and stepped back before addressing him.

“You are Joon Harrelson?” Joon recognized her as one of the seniors he shared classes with. As she spoke, a handful of students emerged from the crowd and grouped up behind her. Joon recognized a few of them; he may have seen their faces passing by in the cafeteria or hallway. He wondered why they’d all come for him. He wondered if Lily had decided to just go home alone. He thought maybe they could talk about her sketches; he sat behind her in class meaning he got to spy on her when she decided to doodle. With that thought in mind he resolved to deal with the group of kids quickly.

“Yeah that’s me. You’re Nico right?” Nico rolled her eyes, but replied.

“Yes. I’m here to ask you if you’re a newcomer fighting internal demons.” Nico held his gaze. Joon blinked, confused.

“Am I what?” Nico kept on staring until a kid with a blue headset on walked up behind her and nudged her aside.

“Look. Yesterday we all got messages in bit six four code. It said we needed to find a newcomer struggling with emotional problems. Now I hate to point the finger at you, but you’re the only person we could think of so if you don’t mind, can you come with us?” Joon sighed. Despite himself, he was intrigued why so many people had received some strange coded text.

“I think I can make some time, but not right now. Can I give you my number and we can talk some other time?” The headset kid groaned and turned to Nico, who jumped back in front of him.

“This is extremely important. I recommend you come with us now.” At this Joon thought ahead to all the essays he had yet to do.

“I’m sorry, but life comes first. I’ll be happy to help this friday or over the weekend, but right now I’ve got a train to catch.” Joon quickly grabbed a notebook from his backpack and tore a bit of paper off. Taking out a pen, he wrote down his number and handed it to Nico, “Here. Good luck solving that mysterious text thing.” With that he turned and walked towards the metro stop.

Lily was waiting at the stop when he got there. She didn’t see him at first, so Joon had time to do a happy dance before tapping his card and walking over to her. As he approached she turned, saw him, and waved. He waved back and sat down next to her. She wore dark jeans and a thin gray jacket and when she turned to him she too wore a small smile.

“Hey. How’ve you been?” Joon put a hand to his mouth, wondering what parts of the day were actually relevant. A part of him just wanted to talk; about everything that happened today and what he planned to do over the weekend and how he liked her hair or that the sun had been setting earlier and earlier and how he hated the night, not because he was afraid of the dark, but because he didn’t like being alone.

“Um, I’m alright. School’s kind of boring though, don’t you think?”

She leaned back and was silent for a minute, “No I think it’s pretty fun. I don’t have a lot of friends yet, but that’ll change. I really like the English classes here though!”

“Yeah? I guess it’s alright. I always liked electives more. Do you write at all?”

She looked at him for a moment, “What makes you say that?”

“Well you said you liked the English classes, I thought you might have liked to write too.”

“How smart of you” She smiled. The train pulled in with a soft rush of air. Lily got up.

“Where’s your stop?” Joon remained on the bench, and when Lily looked at him he simply shook his head.

“I’ll catch the next one. I’m waiting for some friends.” Lily nodded. The door closed and in a minute, she was gone. Joon checked his phone. The station lay empty until the next train crept in with a squeal and Joon walked aboard.

While the loss of her beloved book had devastated her, she was ready to put that part of her past behind her. A day was a sufficient period of time to mourn. She had recovered. It was a shame that she had lost it, but she could find other books to translate.

So she greeted the new day with a skip to her step and a grin on her face. Her enthusiasm was far from contagious. The other people on her bus regarded her with a tired sort of annoyance as she slipped into her seat, cheerfully humming and scrolling through her Tumblr dashboard. She reblogged a few posts; the newest meme (favorites tag), a post about millionaire Keith Quinn donating another ten thousand dollars to charity (positivity tag) and a fun fact about Roman aqueducts (history tag). By the time she had reblogged the last one, the bus had arrived at the high school.

She slipped her phone into her pocket. As per usual, she was one of the first person off the bus. She pushed past the other students disembarking from their buses. With a surprising amount of force, she threw the doors open and marched into the school. First period was Latin, the perfect start to what would hopefully would be a wonderful day. There was just the matter of passing the time before class; Ms. Brooks rarely was at school prior to the first bell. She navigated the barely crowded hallways until she arrived at the Latin classroom.

She checked her phone. Ten minutes until Ms. Brooks would probably arrive. She opened her Tumblr and began to scroll through it again. She would have preferred to be working on her translation, but, without the book, this was the best she could do.

Someone slung their arm around her shoulder.

A startled cry escaped her lips. No one ever got that close to her. Even the other students in the school's GSA only greeted her with a wave. The action was so unprecedented that she nearly dropped her phone, though she luckily regained her grasp before it could completely slip out of her hands.

She turned her head to get a glimpse of the person in question. But even before she locked eyes with the girl standing beside her, she knew who it had to be. Their conversation after she had lost her book had rekindled lost feelings. Feelings of camaraderie, and, for Puck, feelings of something else.

“Hey, Bubbly Puck,” Nico Ringo said with a casual wave.

“Hi, Sin Sorisa,” she replied. She grinned. “What's up?”

Their friendship was over, but something had driven Nico Ringo to seek her out. That must have meant something. Though she was unsure of what that implied, she was still filled with a childlike joy when she saw her face.

Nico Ringo retrieved her phone from the depths of her pocket. She was so close, close enough for Puck to smell her minty fresh breath. She tried to focus on other things, like how Nico Ringo's friend group had seemingly doubled in the short time between when she had last seen and now. But her mind kept returning to the girl standing beside her.

“We have a prophecy,” she said.

Puck raised an eyebrow. “A...prophecy?”

Nico Ringo wordlessly handed her phone. There was a Facebook message from an anonymous user, oddly detailing a strange list of people. Puck's gaze traveled to the very last one – a mischievous sprite of a girl. Her heart skipped a beat. That was her, wasn't it? She looked back up at Nico Ringo.

“Well,” she commented, “I've always wanted to be a protagonist. What are we supposed to be saving the world from, Nico Ringo?” Her name rolled off of her tongue, an almost playful tone to it as she eyed the girl beside her.

There wasn't any question about its validity. If it had been anyone other than her former best friend, she would have been dubious. But Nico Ringo would never support something like this if she thought it held no merit; that was something she was certain of. And if Nico Ringo thought it was something worth following, she would as well.

“We don't know,” she admitted, returning her phone to her pocket. “We were hoping we'd find that out after we talked to the other people there. You're the final one, Puck.”

“You saved the best for last, I see,” Puck teased, giving Nico Ringo a playful little punch with her free hand. She opened her mouth to say more, but the bell rung and cut her off. The group around them exchanged looks. They all had so much to discuss; the prophecy, who sent it and what they were supposed to do. But class was calling them, and the last thing any of them wanted was to be tardy.

“See you at lunch?” Puck hesitantly questioned.

Nico Ringo gave her a smile that made her heart melt.

“Of course, Bubbly Puck.”

She wasn't able to focus during Latin.


Maneuvering through the crowded cafeteria was never an easy task, especially at the beginning of the lunch wave. The aisles between the long tables were always packed as people went to get food and sit with their friends. Puck had foolishly chosen to sit towards the back of the room her freshman year, and now she was quite accustomed to squeezing between chatting and oblivious students.

But today was different. Nico Ringo's group had been smart and had taken the table closest to the entrance. With an eagerness she had never shown during lunch, Puck rushed into the cafeteria and sat down at the sole empty seat of the table. (It was next to Nico Ringo, of course – she suspected it had been saved especially for her.) The original four were busy chatting away, but the newcomers were unsurprisingly silent. She studied their faces with interest. Jenna Chang. Joon Harrelson. Alexandria Desai. She had seen them around the halls, but only spoken briefly to them in passing. She wondered what made them believe the prophecy; why were they sitting here with the others?

Her gaze wandered to the food they were eating, and it was then that Puck discovered something she thought she would never see again. At the very end of the table was...

“My book!” she cried out.

Nico Ringo gave her a surprised look. “It's your book?”

She eagerly nodded. When no one stopped her, she grabbed it off the table and clutched it like it was some long lost friend. Joy blossomed from her, quickly spreading with as she continued to hug her beloved book. “I looked everywhere for it! Where was it?”

“It was in the recycling bin in the library,” she recalled, glancing over at Val, Erin and Ashwin. “I thought someone threw it out.”

Puck gave her an aghast look. “I'd never!”

Someone hesitantly cleared their throat. Heads turned toward Alexa, who gave a small wave to show that she had been the one to make the noise. “What exactly is the book?” she questioned; though Puck didn't know it, she hadn't been there for its discovery by Nico Ringo.

“And where did you get?” Erin added. “It's not exactly normal.”

She opened the cover and displayed the first page to Alexa. As an afterthought, she did the same for Joon and Jenna – she suspected they were just as clueless as the other newcomer to the table. “It's an old book written in Latin. I saw it at an antique bookstore when I was out last weekend, and decided I wanted to translate it. I've been taking Latin since freshman year, so...” She gave a sheepish smile. “I haven't gotten far, though.”

“Does it seem odd to you?” Ashwin inquired, leaning forward and resting one elbow on the table.

She shook her head. “No. Why?”

“Well,” he said, “I thought it might have something to do with the prophecy. A dead language would be fitting for something like that, wouldn't it?”

They all looked at each other. Then their gazes slowly dropped to the book, which was looking more and more mysterious with every passing second. Was it just a coincidence that she had stumbled upon it right before the prophecy was issued, or was some other force at play?

“I've translated as much of it as I can,” Puck slowly said, “but I think I know someone who might be able to help us.”

“We’re going to your latin teacher to decode an ancient, cryptic book?” Joon asked curiously as Puck led them down the empty corridor to the world languages wing.

“The book is in Latin,” Nico Ringo answered for her. “She would be best suited to helping us.”

Val frowned. “Doesn’t it seem a little too direct?” He asked, before muttering “direct” to himself under his breath until it sounded right. “It’s just… We’re just gonna ask?”

“Yeah, he has a point. If it was that easy, why even bother giving us the cryptic book?” Jenna added, defending Val’s point.

“It’s the only lead we’ve got,” Alexa said, “Might as well follow it. Besides, we’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Um, actually we’ve got the book to lose.” Erin nodded at it in Puck’s hand. “If Ms. Brooks decides we shouldn’t have it, then she could take it from us.”

“Why would she do that?” Ashwin inquired.

“We have literally no idea what the book says. It could be inappropriate for school, and we’re handing it to a teacher to have her read it,” Val noted.

Puck stopped and turned around. “We’re here. I trust Ms. Brooks, and I’m showing her this book. Sorry.” She pushed through the door to the classroom besides, and Val just shrugged and slipped his headphones back on.

Everyone but Puck and Nico Ringo decided to wait in the hallway, as they were far too uncomfortable around the teacher they didn’t know. The hallway was dead silent; none of them really knew the others that well. “So...” Joon started, but he quickly trailed off. “Any of you got, uh, plans for the weekend?”

“Chances are, no.” Erin said. Val thought about what they said, and realized that it was true. These people were too quiet, awkward, introverted to get around much. That was probably not what Erin meant to imply, but they had done so anyway. Val turned up his music.

The hallway fell silent again. Impatiently, Val crept to the door and peered through the window. From what he saw, Nico Ringo was chatting Ms. Brooks up excitedly, and Puck had not even brought out the book.

“Looks like we’ll be here for awhile.” Val commented.

“I have an idea. We don’t really know each other that well, so let’s all share one fact about ourselves,” Joon said. “I’ll start. I...” He hesitated.

“I can start.” The words came out of Val’s mouth before he could think twice. Everyone turned to him, and he took a deep breath. He turned up the volume.


Not knowing what to say, he blurted out the first thing he could think of. “I have a mental disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, that constantly messes with me. I need to wear these headphones as a result, or I lose my mind. Apologies if it comes across as rude to you. I assure you, it’s nothing you can stop doing.”

They all stared at him. Why the hell did I say that? I’ve never been that open to strangers before. They don’t need to be bothered with that much information about me. “Sorry, that was too much. We barely know each other, and I...”

“No, we’re in the prophecy together. We’ll need to become closer. I’ll go next,” Alexa said. “You all know that I’m color blind. It’s part of who I am. But I… I wouldn’t mind seeing all the right colors, just once. To find see what others see, you know?”

“Please don’t take offense to this,” Jenna went next, “but I was happy at home, and I miss it.”

“I just want a good night’s sleep,” Joon said with a joking tone and a serious face.

And so they continued. Each member of the group sharing some thing with each other that they normally would not have been comfortable sharing. Not to say that they were comfortable now, but they had done it anyway. And maybe it was by just a little, but Val felt that it had brought them together.

Again, the hallway was silent. Maybe it had really been by just a little. “Well, that was anticlimactic,” Erin blurted, and for the first time, they all laughed together. Maybe it had been more than just a little.

Puck and Nico Ringo came out of the room with disappointed looks on their faces, presumably because Ms. Brooks offered no information. “She was going to help us, but it looked almost like she recognized the book and stopped-” Puck stopped in the middle of her distraught explanation when she realized that the students she had left in silence were now laughing. Nico Ringo looked at her in confusion, but eventually ended up laughing with them.

Translating the book with Ms. Brooks’s help had proved to be a dead-end, but Val felt it hadn’t been for nothing. He looked around at the students. They had been almost hostile at the beginning of this, afraid to even address the others. But now, though little had changed, they were no longer hostile like that. There was a warm camaraderie between them, even if their silent disposition’s hadn’t changed.

Valentine Livingstone smiled.

"So what now?" asked Jenna, when the laughter had mostly subsided. As everyone's eyes turned on her, she took a deep breath as she could feel her cheeks reddening. "If Ms. Brooks won't help us, maybe she'd at least let us borrow a Latin-English dictionary?"

Puck shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "She seemed kind of . . . spooked by the book."

What could be so scary about some musty book in Latin? Besides the fact that it was somehow connected to some stalker-ish messages, that is.

"That's weird," said Alexa. "I wonder why."

"Well, we'll have to find another way then, if we're going to somehow solve this at all," muttered Ashwin.

Jenna cleared her throat. "Have y'all tried Google Translate yet?" Wait, of course they would've. Now they're going to think I'm Captain Obvious or stupid or something. Ugh, Jenna... She wanted to disappear.

"We've tried that," said Nico Ringo, "but all it gave us was some nonsense."

'Well, Google Translate is notorious for being inaccurate,' she wanted to joke, but Jenna remained silent, staring at the ground. She felt uncomfortably warm, and she subtly felt one of her still-burning cheeks with the back of her hand.

Jenna was very good at contributing to awkward silences.

"There has to be something we can do, though," continued Nico Ringo.

"Like what?" said Erin, while Valentine turned his music up even louder. With the music being quite audible to her, Jenna wondered how damaged his hearing already was, then instantly regretted it.

Puck sighed. "Maybe we should just call it a day, for now. We've done our best."

Jenna agreed silently. She'd told her parents she was working on a project with some friends, but that was not really true, despite being the most reasonable way to stay after school in her case. It was very, very rare that she even stretched the truth to her parents, so a cloud of guilt filled her mind once again.

Well, looks like I have maybe a bit of time to kill before Mom comes. I should do my homework or something.

But as the group dispersed, she noticed Joon walking off by himself, and, on a strange impulse, decided to catch up to him.

Any Asian kid in school was bound to catch Jenna's eye, since she had seen, well, almost none. Joon was no exception to this interest. She figured that her classmate was Korean because as far as she knew, only Korean romanizations sometimes used double O's instead of a U to form the "oo" sound, whereas Chinese characters of a similar sound were always spelled 'Jun'. She had never had the courage to confirm her guess, though, because she worried about guessing wrong and accidentally offending him.

She thought about how her best friend, being half-Korean, would've been interested in befriending Joon. Jenna herself hadn't made any close friends yet, as far into the school year as she was. A spark of hope lit inside her.

Maybe we can be friends, even if it's just for a year. As much as Jenna tried to tell herself she didn't need friends since she was only living in Huntsville for a year, she hated being alone.

Goodness, why is he walking so fast? Jenna hefted her backpack as she continued to powerwalk and called out, "Hey Joon!" Adrenaline was already starting to rush through her blood at the idea of talking to someone she didn't know very well.

He stopped and turned to look back. It was nice of him to wait for her to catch up, but--Oh. No wonder he seemed so fast. He was almost a foot taller than Jenna.

And now, Jenna realized she had not planned anything to say beyond "Hi."

"Um . . . You're not leaving with the others?"

"No." He shook his head as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Oh." There was silence. Jenna and awkward silence really went well together.

Then, as if on cue, her phone buzzed. Her mom had texted to say she was outside, waiting. Thank God. That was fast.

"Sorry, looks like I have to go. See ya." Jenna waved as she turned and hurried towards the exit. Ugh. Socially awkward much?

As she got into her mom's car, she realized she could have at least used the Latin book mystery as a conversation topic.

Eʀɪɴ Hᴀʀᴘᴇʀ

Erin dropped the house keys in the bowl next to the door as they walked in and kicked their worn shoes off and into the corner.

A man in a button down tee-shirt poked his head in the room. "Hey, kiddo," said Erin's father, running a hand through his prematurely greying hair. "Where've you been? A friend's house?"

"No," said Erin, putting their sweatshirt on a hook.

"Drama?"

"I'm not doing drama this year."

Steve Harper raised his eyebrows. "Date?"

"Dad, it's 5:00," Erin said, brushing past him and rummaging through various shelves in the kitchen. "I was hanging out at the library."

"Well, it's not like you'd tell me if you had met someone," Steve prodded.

"Probably not," Erin agreed, closing an empty cupboard. "Food?"

"Unfortunately, no," he said. "Unless you count that herbal stuff."

"I don't."

"You're mom's getting more on the way home from work."

"'Kay," they replied. "I'll be in my room."

Erin trudged up the stairs to their room, pushing through the door festooned with a few sketches and a name tag reading Hello, my name is: filled out with Indigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die. They sprawled into what Erin referred to as a 'swirly chair,' pressed a button on their old laptop computer, and waited for it to turn on.

One episode of Daredevil later, Erin's cheek was smushed against their right hand as they swiped through snapchat on their phone with the left. Erin glanced at the time. 5:55. They smiled. For no reason they could explain, Erin had always watched out for times like 3:33, 12:34, and anything with digits adding up to ten, fifteen, or twenty. Turning back to snapchat revealed nothing interesting. Until it did.

Erin frowned at what appeared to be a picture of a hand written note. Erin Harper, it said. Go to 729 Abbey Street. Supplies will be in the shack.

What the hell...? Erin thought.

A message appeared in Erin, Val, Nico Ringo, and Ashwin's group chat on messenger. Val had sent a picture of an identical note except with his name and the caption have u seen this.

Nico Ringo responded almost immediately. yeah followed by bubbly puck got 1, too

I've got one, Erin texted.

A message from Ashwin blinked on to the screen. I think everyone in the prophecy did.

Nico Ringo - Bubbles'n'blades

Collective laughs are disgusting.

These were the words that echoed through Nico Ringo’s mind as she stared with murderous intent at a group of girls that vainly moved their hands, vainly moved their fancy handbags, vainly moved their everything. Their equally vain laughter was unbearable and Nico Ringo wondered why she hadn’t murdered them already.
...Then again, her skin color would potentially insinuate that her violent act was caused by drug or gang-related activities, so she’d either be shot on sight after killing these girls, or taken into a prison facility, which she’d probably leave with her mind and virginity lost some thirty years after satisfying her original impulse.
Lovely.
With the bitter thought that these human-shaped ghouls got to live another day wasting space for more deserving ones, Nico Ringo hurriedly passed by them and reached her school. She checked the time: 6:13. That was the first bus of the day, with the first pupils forced to take it getting out of it. If she was lucky, she’d have enough time to put her bag in front of her class’ door and get back to her spot before the arrival of–

“Nico!”

...Bubbly Puck.
Nico Ringo immediately stopped her advance. She turned off the music of her headphones and let them rest on her neck before performing a quick turnabout. There she was, a shinning smile decorating her lively face. Although, as wonderful as that face was, even Bubbly Puck had to be taught a simple fact.

“My name is Nico Ringo. Please refer to me with the full name at all times.” Nico Ringo declared calmly before walking towards Bubbly Puck, whose smile had disappeared, replaced by a confused expression – which grew more confused when Nico Ringo grabbed her shoulder and savagely turned her around before kicking her butt, sending her head first into the mud next to the tree Bubbly Puck liked to lay against whenever she read or felt bad.

“...Or get your butt kicked.” Nico Ringo concluded before approaching the tree with a nonchalant gait. She waited patiently as the few pupils that had arrived walked passed them, ignoring the sight and entering inside. Eventually, Bubbly Puck rose back up. After a few seconds of silence, she started giggling. “I know.” she replied.

Nico Ringo raised an eyebrow. “Then wh–”

It was at this moment that Bubbly Puck turned back, a grin plastered across her face covered with grass and mud, which made a cute contrast with the glint that shone in her eyes. “Because, Sin Sonrisa!” she exclaimed with a flawless Spanish pronunciation. “You’re designed for strength and loyalty!” Bubbly Puck giggled again. “I was worried something had changed, but… I’m glad you’re still yourself, after all this time. Thank you.”

Nico Ringo felt a rising numbness burn inside her stomach. It spread to her legs, which forced her to move closer. The numbness then reached her arms, then her hands, which slowly moved to place themselves on Bubbly Puck’s cheeks, like the missing pieces of a long forgotten puzzle. Delicately, Nico Ringo moved her thumb along Bubbly Puck’s reddening skin, sweeping the intruding grass and bits of mud away from her face.

“Now what, you’re giving me war paint?” Bubbly Puck whispered, attempting a joke.

“Hey. Don’t bring this back to your field.” Nico Ringo whispered back. “That’s not what this moment is for.”

“Right.”

A timeless second passed by, and their lips connected, closing a door and opening another. Bubbly Puck slid her arms past Nico Ringo’s waist and grabbed her back, bringing her closer to her. Then Nico Ringo moved her head back, ending the contact with regret. “Hey.” she said. “I’m stuck.”

“Liar.” Bubbly Puck replied mischievously. “You’re stronger than me.”

“You stole my strength just now, Bubbly Puck. Swallowed it whole. Now I’m stuck in your arms and I can’t get out.”

“And you’re blushing, too.” Bubbly Puck added, giggling softly. “Your cheeks are a bit purple.”

“Can’t feel them. Can’t feel them without your hand.”

Nodding in understanding, Bubbly Puck tenderly put one of her hands on Nico Ringo’s cheeks, caressing it the way Nico Ringo caressed hers. “Thank you.” the latter breathed. “Thank you.”

They remained like this for a brief moment, lost in each other’s eye, lost in each other’s world.

“Can I break this?” Nico Ringo asked quietly. “I’m afraid someone else will break it for us. I’d hate that.”

“Hold on.” Bubbly Puck begged. She closed her eyes and kissed Nico Ringo, gripping her chest with her hands as she pressed her lips further against Nico Ringo’s. The latter did the same, prolonging the moment for several seconds. “There.” Bubbly Puck said as it ended. “But I really don’t want you to break anything anymore.”

Nico Ringo caressed her beloved’s cheeks one last time before retrieving control of her hands. “Someone has to.” she whispered. “It wasn’t fun to see you getting bullied, back then. These idiots deserved a good lesson.”

“But… But you got in trouble because of me.”

Nico Ringo shrugged. “I am your blade, or I am nothing” For the first time in what felt like years, she offered a bright, tender smile to Bubbly Puck. “Well. Maybe I’m exaggerating a bit.”

Bubbly Puck smiled back. “It’s okay, I’m just… glad this is happening. I wasn’t sure.”

“You would’ve been, sooner or later. Let’s go inside. Get ourselves comfortable with a table, music, and a group of idiots bound to mock me for this thing we’re doing.” Nico Ringo wrapped her arm around her Bubbly Puck’s shoulder and turned on the music once again, letting the headphones share it with the wind as her smile slowly disappeared.



They directed themselves towards one of the empty study halls of the school. Nico Ringo was used to be left alone there, usually reading, or listening to her music – in rarer occasions, she brought a handheld console to play with, or finished homework. In this case, she realized that it was the first time she waited for a group of people, or strolled around the hallway, accompanied by a smiling sprite happy to be with her. The numbness in her being was gone, and without it, she wasn’t sure how to feel.

“This music is really nice.” Bubbly Puck commented as they entered the empty study hall and sat down at one of the many tables. “I didn’t know you were into smooth things, Nico Ringo.”

“I’m not. I usually prefer energetic stuff. Dad made me listen to it some time ago, though. He’s really into robot stuff, and this one comes from a… Megaman game, I think.”

“How’s it called?”

“Original name or translated?”

“Hmm… Original!”

Nico Ringo stared at her. “Deep Sea Base ~ Bubbly Crablos.”

Bubbly Puck giggled. “You’re kidding!”

“You made me obsessed with bubbles.”

“I’m really sorry!”

“I’ll try to forgive you.”

“Will you smile when you do it?”

Nico Ringo gently poked her Bubbly Puck’s nose. “Don’t push it, Bubbly Puck. I already reached my quota for today.”

They continued to chat until the conversation moved back to the main reason of their presence in the school: the message they had all received on morning. They both re-read the address, attempting to guess where the place could be. As they began to do so, the rest of the group finally arrived, taking chairs so that everyone could sit at the same table.

“So.” Ashwin began after they greeted each other. “We all got the message, right?”

They all nodded, unsurprisingly.

“It mentioned a shack, too.” Erin added. “So I guess we’ll get every information there.”

“And it’s around thirty minutes away from school, we just checked it.” Bubbly Puck added cheerfully. “Well… By car, anyway.”

“I have my license, but not my own car yet.” Nico Ringo said. “Could ask my dad to use his, if needed.”

“Same.” Ashwin added. “But I think I can have an easier time getting the car than you can, Nico Ringo.”

Nico Ringo raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have enough trouble with your family already?”

“It won’t really matter. Besides, we need two cars to fit everyone in, anyway.”

“Fair enough.” Nico Ringo sprung up, gazing at her watch. “Well, we’ll have to drive everyone after school, anyway. We should go to class before we’re late.” she turned towards Bubbly Puck as the rest of the group began to leave. “See you at lunch.”

“I… Um… You’re not gonna tell them?”

“Nah. Unless they bother me with it. It’s not a secret, Bubbly Puck. It’s just our business.”

“Okay. Mind if I tell them eventually?”

“I don’t. Do it whenever you feel like it.” Nico Ringo assured before walking away.

“H-Hey! Can you send me the music, later today?”

With an affirmative wave, Nico Ringo exited the room, serene and satisfied. She needed some time alone to savor it all, to savor how awake she felt. She was Nico Ringo, but she was also a little sprite’s blade. And on that day, the blade had sharpened against that sprite’s lovely embrace.