Young Writers Society

He looked at John Watson and James in turn, silently mouthing each of the names in fascination. Then he looked over at the spector-looking boy sitting at the fire and went to go sit next to him. For some reason, the heat of the fire felt uncomfortable on his skin. He reached out a hand, but pulled it back before it could get burned. This skin was very inconvenient, it seemed.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that if the other two humans had names, everybody here was bound to. That was a good thing- it gave him something to refer to individuals as.

"Oh! What do they call you, spector boy?" He turned to the one next to him, an eager expression on his face.

Engel rubbed his hands together and pulled off his hat, which, despite the fur, was very wet. His dirty blond hair fell down over his shoulders in a ratty mess of tangled knots - he hadn't had access to a comb in days.

Spector-boy. It took him a moment to realize that it was he who was being addressed. He frowned a little at the name. It wasn't wholly inaccurate but it was an unwelcome reminder of...well, everything.

"Engel," he answered. "My name is Engel Jäger." Wait...he'd just understood him. The one with that strange language. He did a double-take. "Wait, you can understand me?! I can understand you?! How..?!"

He frowned and nodded seriously to match Engel's intensity, but in reality, he didn't care much how he had started to understand chant-speak, only that it was very convenient now that he had.

"I... I really don't know. It's nice, though, that we can." He smiled brightly, unable to stay serious for long. "Maybe there's a Land-spirit helping us." This was a wild guess, in corolation to how he had imagined the upper-world to be.

"That one over there speaks chant-speak too." He pointed to the boy over by the logs. "I could understand him. It's a bit like hearing someone talk over another voice- is it like that for you too?"

He blinked, then nodded as he pulled off his wet jacket, followed by his boots and socks that were really only serving to make him colder. "Ja, it is."

"Oh!" He started again, realizing that he hadn't given his name, "I'm called Aag-" he paused.

Aagares was the name they had given him. It had marked him for his heritage as a demon who would go on to be mean and hurt the spectors they were in charge of, like Molleck. And he wanted no part in that. So, he would have to give himself a new name.

With a concentrated frown, he thought up a name.

"Damascus! Yes, I like that. Call me that."

Boris abandoned his hiding place, and joined the others by the fire.
He looked around at everyone. Everyone who coincidentally, got lost in the same forest as him, at around the same time, all looking quite different from one another. Originally, he thought that the owner of the fire might get annoyed at him for intruding on their area, and eating their food, so he planned on making himself scarce as soon as they came near.

But more and more people came, and none of them were this person.
So Boris stopped worrying about it. Now if this person came around, they would be distracted by the everyone else, and hopefully not notice him slip away by himself.
Or at least, responsibility would be pinned on John because he was the adult.
Boris grinned to himself, thinking about how easily he would get out of trouble this way. Granted, he was still very much in trouble anyway, if he stayed out too late, but that was the kind of trouble he was used to being in.

Boris squinted curiously at Damascus' introduction. Why had he changed his mind about the name he was giving them? Did he just really want to be called by a cool nickname?

"Hallo, Aag-Damascus." he said to Damascus, as though he had made a very clever joke. "I'm Boris."

She listened carefully to each conversation, but struggled to come up with the right thing to say. It seemed like the two boys she had found in the forest had overcome their previous fear of each other, and could suddenly understand what the other was saying. She didn't really hear any sort of difference, but she guessed that was because her soul was doing all the work. Grim reaper souls were fancy like that. And that other German boy had joined in on the conversation, too, leaving her to guess that maybe appearing as an adult wasn't the best way to be accepted by the group.

But it wasn't like she could suddenly change her form now.

She sighed as she sat down on one of the empty logs surrounding the campfire. Staring down at her lap, she tried to figure out what she should be doing next. She wasn't supposed to be here. She knew that much. She knew that the others were in the same boat as her, too, and that they were all kids. Which was a weird coincidence, so maybe that was intentional? Whatever the case was, she needed to figure out how to get back. Which would probably involve finding an adult, like Blanx, but Blanx wasn't here-

She stared at her hands.

Her very-much-adult-hands.

Oh no.

If everyone was in the same boat as her, and they all thought the same way as her, they'd turn to the first adult they saw. And even though she was a kid just like the rest of them, she didn't look the part. They'd turn to her for help she couldn't give and knowledge she didn't have. Her vision swam as tears began to form in her eyes.

This was really, really bad.

Before she knew it, she was a sobbing mess, thick tears streaming down her face as she dug her nails into her pant legs to prevent more from falling.

He looked up as Herr Watson started crying, and his initial joy at having found the fire dissipated as tears started rolling down his cheeks. His first reaction was to go hug the man, but in the past, that had not gone well, so he sidled over a little hesitantly.

"Are you alright, Herr Watson?" he asked, his voice sincerely concerned.

James was trying to figure things out and was listening carefully to the conversations of the others as they went on, but then Mr.Watson sat down and started to cry. James walked over to the man with a worried expression and put a hand hesitantly on Mr.Watson's back.

"Mr. Watson?" he asked. "Is something wrong? Was somebody mean to you?"

Another sob left Schadel's lips.

"No," she miserably said, though she wasn't sure if she was replying to James or Engel's question. The words started to come out before she could fully think them through - all of them in a frantic, tearful mess. "I'm-I'm not what you think I a-"

She heard someone moving behind her.

Frantically wiping her eyes, Schadel turned to see who had moved. It wasn't from any of the people present; it was from yet another boy standing on the very edge of the glade, staring at the kids with wide blue eyes. His short auburn hair was a mess, and he was dressed in pajamas. He was clutching a teddy bear close to his chest. When he noticed that he had been noticed, he held it even tighter.

"I-I want my mom," he said. His voice trembled, and he looked up at Schadel with eyes that were already beginning to moisten with tears. "What did you do with her?"

Damascus glared at Boris, knowing that he was being made fun of.

"It's just Damascus." He stated firmly. After a few moments staring at the other boy, he softened a little, knowing that he shouldn't be mean. "It's nice to meet you... I guess." The end of this was mumbled under his breath.

Looking around, he noticed that the other kids were gathered around John Watson, who had his head down and was... crying. Letting out a little gasp, he stood up, only to spot another child coming out of the clearing. At a loss, he walked over to the little boy and stared down at him.

"Where did you last see your mother?" He asked, trying to be rational, "I don't think we've seen her here?"

The boy's lip quivered as he turned to Damascus. He looked him over, taking in the odd combination of the toga and suit jacket, and took a large step back away from him. "I was with her at home," the boy said. He held the teddy bear even tighter. "She-She was about to say good night to me. But now she's-she's not here, and he has to have something to do with it."

He was pointing at Schadel.

Schadel's own lip quivered. "I didn't do anything."

The boy shook his head. "You must have! You-You're an adult." He glanced around at the other people present. "Did you kidnap me? Is that-Is that why there's all these kids here? Did you kidnap them, too?"

"No," Schadel replied, her voice little more than a whisper as she started to cry even harder than before. "I-I didn't do anything!"

"You had to!" the boy protested. Now he had broken down and started to sob just like her, leaving her to feel absolutely horrible when she knew his tears were all her fault. "You're the only adult here, so that has to mean that you were responsible for it!"

A particularly loud sob left her.

"I'm not an adult!" she wailed.

James looked wildly back and forth between the boy with the teddy bear and Mr.Watson. The conversation only escalated as the teddy bear boy made accusations and only made Mr.Watson cry more. But then Mr.Watson said something peculiar, that James didn't understand. He kept his hand on Watson's back and leaned forward toward's Watson's ear, so he could whisper.

"You're not?" he asked with genuine concern.

Damascus' eyes widened, and he looked between the two crying boys, at a loss at who he should focus on comforting. It seemed that John Watson already had James to pat his back and say it was okay, so he turned to the younger child.

"John Watson got lost too, just like us. I'm sure he didn't have anything to do with your mother or you being here." He leaned over and spoke softly, but matter-of-factly to the boy. "Your mother is probably looking for you- it would be best to just stay here until she finds you."

Oh. What he was saying didn't seem to be comforting the child very much- maybe he should try something else.

"Your stuffed beast is very well-behaved." With a smile, he pointed to the bear, "what do you call him?"

"I'm not!" she confirmed, her voice even louder than before. She turned back to the fire and buried her head back into her hands as more sobs shook her body. She just wished Blanx was here. Blanx would know what to do. He'd guide her through it, just like he always did. And when she started crying, he'd pull her close and tell her that everything would be alright, and even let her go back to her actual form because he knew that she felt the most comfortable like that.

But Blanx wasn't here. She just had herself, and she was discovering that herself wasn't that good at this sort of thing. She fingered her cross as she continued to cry; feeling the smooth metal underneath her fingers calmed her just a little bit.

"His-His name is William," she heard the boy with the teddy bear said. His earlier terrified tone was replaced by a closely related nervousness, and she heard him take several steps away from Damascus. "Who-Who are you? What's going on-"

The boy fell silent.

Then, a moment later, he slowly walked over to the campfire and plopped himself down on one of the logs. He stared into the flickering flames. As Schadel continued to sob, he raised a single hand up and slapped himself across the face. This was followed by a startled cry as he nearly fell off of his log.

"This has to be a dream," the boy said. his voice high with terror. "It just has to be. So-So why am I not waking up?"