Young Writers Society

James had to admit, he wasn't sure who in the group Maahes was talking about at first, and why Maahes hadn't come to the revelation sooner, but it sounded like he met them when he was using a different guise. It was only when he followed Maahes's gaze that he figured out he was talking about Edward. Edward the ghost.

Strange, how Maahes knew him. It was a small world.

Of course, it must've been traumatizing to see Edward die, and to now see him "alive" but as a ghost was... well... an idea completely foreign to him, but he understood how shocking it could be. He wiped his hand off on his pants and gently laid it on Maahes's shoulder as Rose's voice caught his attention. He looked up.

"That might require splitting up more than we already have, and I don't know how successful we'll be with little to no supplies. I suppose it depends on your skill and your methods. But the sun is setting, and I think it would be wise to stay together after sundown. If we hunt, let's save it for the morning, after we hear back from the others."

Rose nodded. "Are you going to be okay?" She asked Maahes, concern on her face.

As James addressed Rose, Damascus scooted closer to Maahes, and with a long moment of hesitation, reached out and ever so gently patted his shoulder.

"You knew Edward?" he asked softly, though it was more of a statement and not a question. "Well, I can tell you, if- if it's any sort of comfort, that he's doing well. He doesn't enjoy being a ghost, of course, but he's found a good group of friends, and, he has Schadel, too."

He smiled, his voice immensely gentle, and turned for a moment to spot his brother before he turned back. "Is it... is this something you want to be talking to him about?"

Maahes frantically shook his head, simultaneously trying to wipe the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. Edward continued chatting with Schadel and Griffith; he wasn't even looking in his direction right now. Maybe that was for the best - the sight would have confused him and prompted him to ask questions Maahes knew he couldn't give answers to.

"I can't," he whispered. "H-He'd never believe me. I should...I should be dead by now...and I didn't look anything like this..." He clenched his hands into fists at his side, realizing that he wouldn't be able to stop the flow of tears. "Ed-Edward would just think I'm lying. That I-I was playing a joke on him. And-And then what am I-I supposed to do if he still l-loves me? I...I have Vala now. I can't....I can't...."

His voice dropped even quieter.

"I can't go back to being Nicholas Drew," he quietly uttered.

Rose gently laid a hand on Maahes other shoulder. She had no idea what to say.

Damascus' eyes widened briefly at the name. He had heard it before, but, where...

It came to him in a little flash. Nicholas Drew was the name of the soldier Edward had loved. He cast his wide eyes between them both, worrying at his lip.

"So, you just- you just aren't going to say anything?" He confirmed, a little hint of anguish in his voice. He took a breath, and then spoke his mind. "But- Maahes. He thought that you died, just like he did. Maybe he still loves you but- but... I think if the both of you can find any sort of closure, than that would be best, even if it's hard. He would appreciate the truth."

"He'd never believe me," Maahes repeated, his voice quiet. His tears fell harder, and he clenched his hands into fists at his side. "I-I don't know if you remember from when we first met, but I-I can change my form. I wasn't...I wasn't using this one, but I can't change it because I'm st-stuck like this."

Maahes tried to imagine the guise he had taken back then - the details were foggy in his memory, since he had taken on so many guises in recent times. But he could still remember the basics of it, and still remember what his voice had sounded like back then. It had been younger than his current one, and noticeably higher.

Another sob threatened to break loose at this realization.

"Nicholas Drew doesn't even sound like me!" he whispered. "I-I'm just going to sound like I'm lying..."

Damascus' look of worry only increased as Maahes listed the reasons why Edward wouldn't believe him. Gently, he set his hands on his shoulders, and tried to get Maahes to look at him.

"No, listen- listen, Maahes," he started, trying not to sound too anxious, "just calm down, it will be okay, I promise. How about- how about this: what's something that Edward knows about you or that you would know about him?"

Snippets of conversation floated over to where Edward, Schadel and the Grim Reaper were standing. Edward couldn't make out most of the conversation, but he heard little bits here and there. It sounded like a few people were trying to comfort Maahes, though he couldn't understand why he needed the comforting in the first place. Schadel and the Grim Reaper fell silent; both noticed the way that Edward was now listening in on what Maahes was saying, even if he wasn't looking in his direction.

It sounded like Maahes knew him.

He didn't know a Maahes, and he didn't know someone who looked like Maahes. He knew that their appearances had been changed, but he also had a grim reaper as one of his closest friends. He was used to form changing. From the way Maahes was talking, it sounded like he was similar to Schadel in terms of abilities - he could change his form, but not right now.

But then a name was uttered.

For a moment, he thought he had misheard it. Maahes had gone incredibly quiet, and was still a good distance away. But the pronunciation - even though his voice was much deeper, and his tone much more worried - was exactly the same way as Nicholas Drew had given his name decades ago. There was that same little quirk that he had never been able to quite place, almost like he was hesitant to say the name while simultaneously taking a little bit of glee in it.

...Maahes was Nicholas?

He glanced back at Schadel and the Grim Reaper. "I need to go talk with Maahes quickly," he said.


Maahes was about to come up with something when he felt a tap on his shoulder. His stomach twisted and churned; he already knew who it had to be. He must have spoken too loudly, or his frequent glances in Edward's direction must have been finally noticed. He turned to see just the person he expected: Edward Smith was standing right behind him.

"Hi," he said. "Could we talk?"

Maahes sent a panicked glance in Damascus, James and Rose's direction, but he knew it would amount to nothing.

"S-Sure," he managed to get out.

Edward gave a little wave to Damascus and James before heading a short distance away from the group. Maahes wished they could be somewhere more private, but he knew the limitations of the forest and their situation - he didn't want everyone to see how much Edward was going to hate him by the end of the conversation. His gaze dropped down to his sandals. Not looking in his eye helped a little, even if it wasn't much.

"I overheard what you were talking about," Edward said.

"...I was guessing that..."

Edward was silent for a moment; a quick glance up showed that he was studying him, likely trying to figure out what to say or do to him next. Maahes promptly ducked his head back down.

"You...You really are Nicholas?" Edward asked. Maahes couldn't immediately place the tone of his voice. It didn't sound like anger, or disappointment, or even disbelief. It sounded like...relief, and a joy that he hadn't expected to hear.

He mustered a small nod.

"I am," he whispered. "I know...I know I don't look the same as I did back then, and I-I know that I should be dead by now, but...but....I-I swear it's really me-"

He was cut short by Edward suddenly pulling him into a tight embrace.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Edward said, his grip just as comforting as Maahes remembered it being. After a moment of hesitation passed - and after Maahes gave up the hope of having dry cheeks by the end of the conversation - he returned the embrace. "I-I saw you right after I died. When I became a ghost. I kept trying to talk to you - to tell you that it was alright, that I was still there right beside you - but you couldn't hear me."

Maahes's grip tightened. "I felt you there," he replied, "but I thought I was imagining things."

Edward gave him a small smile, his own eyes growing moist with tears. "That was me," he confirmed. "I kept trying to grab onto you, but ghosts can't exactly do that."

Damascus tried hard not to eavesdrop on Maahes and Edward's conversation, but based on the snippets he did overhear, he let himself relax. It seemed that things were going well and there wasn't any issue of Edward not believing Maahes or having hard feelings about the situation.

He smiled at the ground as he continued scooping dirt, thinking over the advice he had just given Maahes. A long, honest conversation was always the best way to solve something... wasn't it?

Guilt and self-awareness mingled at the edges of his mind as it returned to his own predicament and decisions. And then, after his own silence, he couldn't handle any more self-reflection.

"James." he spoke up quietly, his eyes pointedly fixed on the ground. "How, why did- forgive me if this is too personal, but, why did you and Tasha decide to be together even though you are both from different worlds?"

He winced almost the instant this was voiced. It sounded so... shallow, now that he thought of it. Why choose not to be with someone you loved because of circumstances neither could control? He desperately hoped that all of his grief had been for matters more complicated than this, but now he was starting to doubt that it wasn't just more simple than he was making it out to be.

"I- I mean, besides the fact that you're in love." he amended, his voice breaking ever so slightly at the word 'love'. "How did you both decide that it was worth it?"

Siren had gone to help Maahes, James and Damascus dig the fire pit. She used her webbed fingers to scoop up handfuls of dirt with great zeal, faster and more lovingly than was necessary. Her smile grew bigger as her violet dress grew dirtier.

But after a little while, all three of the others broke off to go talk about something.

What were they doing? It must have been important, if it was more important than dirt. Oh well. More dirt for her.

Siren would finish the fire pit on her own, and it was going to be beautiful.

James had been quietly following the unfolding conversations until Maahes's crisis seemed to reach a resolution as him and Edward embraced. He could not overhear their words exchange, and he didn't want to, but the expressions on their faces told him enough that he didn't have to worry about it anymore. Maahes and Edward would figure it out on their own.

As he turned back to finish the task he'd set out to do, he found that Siren was already busy digging up the ground.

He stared for a moment, and looked down at his hands. He wasn't sure if he should leave Siren to it, since she seemed to be invested in the task, but a small sense of obligation made him want to help.

But he made his decision to turn away when Damascus called his name. Apparently, he was needed again.

He turned to his brother and friend and sat a small distance from Siren, who - though being productive, was making a bit of a mess. His eyebrows lifted slightly at Damascus's question, but otherwise, his face was void of expression.

Though Damascus had tried to ask the question in a way that seemed non-specific, the fact that it came up at all was telling of where Damascus's mind was at. He didn't have to say it out loud. He knew that Damascus was thinking in reference to Boris. The two of them had had countless moments of undeniable connection over the course of their many inter-dimensional crises, but it had hardly been acknowledged directly by either of them.

He dropped his gaze to the ground, thinking of Damascus and Boris, but mostly thinking of Tasha.

"In any relationship had across long distances, there will be unavoidable heartache," he said softly. "And you have to work harder to invest. To keep the love alive. But if you really do love someone, and... I-I do. Love Tasha. Then it's worth the pain of not seeing them. There is... lovesickness. But it is better to keep your loved ones as close to your heart as you can than to push them away and wait for your heart to forget. Love is a rare thing in this life, and when it is forgotten or abandoned, it's a different kind of pain that I personally feel is not worth the burden."

As Damascus listened carefully to James' words, a look passed over his face. It wasn't completely relief, or a foreboding. It was more of a melancholy acceptance, and joy. There was joy. His heart was wringing with it, among everything else.

He let James' advice sink in the air for a moment, and then slowly started to nod. He finally looked up at his brother.

"Thank you, James." he said gently, a little smile tugging at his lips. He forgot for a moment that he was trying to be inconspicuous. "I'm very glad I have you to talk to."

Almost beside himself now, anxious in a completely different way, he looked past James to the rest of the camp, wanting to locate Boris. He couldn't spot him right away, and so instead looked back to the firepit, where he absently started digging again.

"Oh, and thank you too, Siren." he remembered to say, calling up a distracted smile.

His head spun in urgency, but he calmed himself with his decision.

As soon as the right moment came about, he would pull Boris aside for a long overdue conversation.

James only nodded at Damascus's reply, and gave Damascus a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Any time."