Young Writers Society

James had heard the scream. He heard the voices quietly exchanging words down the hall, and the patter of feet walking and running in that direction. But he didn't go to check it out.

When his door had opened with a small click, he'd poked his head inside before slipping in and closing the door behind him. From what he'd seen, there hadn't been anyone in the room. It looked like a simple living room, with a fireplace circled by couches and chairs, and a table with chairs at the other end of the room. It looked like it had been lived in... and as he took in the entirety of the room his eyes fell on the couch as he spotted the top of a head peeking out from it.

And then she turned around. Her eyes met his.

James, with everything but his feet frozen, backed up to the door to leave, but as he looked down at the mark - it was different than the one on the outside of the door. It was a rose with swirling stems of thorns around it.

So I could unlock the door to come in, but not to get out? What was this cruel irony?

Laurel got up from the couch, her eyes locked on her brother. James watched her as she slowly approached, unable to find words to speak or any kind of suitable reaction that would make sense when seeing his sister, whom he hadn't seen for over a decade. All he could feel was his heart beginning to beat fast enough to burst out of his chest.

Laurel had grown - as would be expected after 14 years. She was a fully grown woman - nearly level with his own height and with long, silky chestnut hair flowing to her middle back. Much like her brother, she had thick brows, and an intense look to her eyes - much different from the doe-eyed version James had known when Laurel was only six.

Laurel's expression was hard, and almost angry, but as she opened her mouth to speak, he lower lip quivered just a fraction.

"Why... are you here?" she asked accusingly.

Raiden raised his hand
"My name's Raiden," he said, giving an awkward smile to the others.
"I woke to someone screaming...it wasn't one of you, was it?"

"That was me," Maahes sheepishly admitted. "Like I said, I got pricked and was just a little startled."

It was a major understatement, but the last thing he needed was for this group of complete strangers to learn of one of his weaknesses. They seemed like good people, but how was he supposed to know for certain? He had thought that about the last planet he had visited. Then he had learned that they sacrificed virgins to honor the gods, which was incredibly awkward to deal with because he was a god in their eyes. He shuddered at the memory.

"Excuse me," Raiden said, his eyebrows furrowing, "but you screamed for a finger prick?" He looked at Leo confusedly
"Did you cut your finger off?" he asked. Even if he was startled, one wouldn't scream.

"I didn't cut my finger off," he muttered. "It just really hurt." What else was he supposed to say? He should have guessed that something would have silver in here, but he was more concerned with understanding why he had been brought to this house in the first place.

Besides, it wasn't like he ran into silver on a daily basis. That had been the case back on Earth. They used an entirely different set of alloys out in space, and his beloved ship was completely free of it. Even iron was a rarity! He was justified in his response, but now he just had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

She watches, seeming slightly amused as he lies. She knows his words aren't true. A prick would mean blood, and if there were blood, she would know it instantly. Screaming for a prick. He really needed to work on his improv skills.

"Are you sure you're all right?" asked Edwin, not entirely convinced that Leo was telling the truth. He reached out to put his left hand (on which he wore a silver ring) on Leo's shoulder in a friendly manner.

The hand rested on his shoulder. It only took a second for the pain to present itself; a short, sharp spike of it as the silver comes into contact with his essence. No cries left his lips. This pain, though unexpected, paled in comparison to the pain of the artifact. It was, however, enough to instill a reaction in him.

He jerked away from Edwin. He tried to regain his composure seconds later, but the damage had already been done. He looked for the source of the pain, his eyes settling on the ring on his finger. Of course it's a ring, he bitterly thought. Any other piece of jewelry would have been easy to avoid. But a ring? It was on a finger, and the amount of times hands touched or were near each other was surprisingly high.

"I'm sorry," he fervently apologized. "I got startled." He eyed Mina. There was a similar ring on her finger, and a hairpin that looked suspiciously like silver in her hair. He would have to avoid both her and her friend (?). None of their interactions had indicated a serious type of love, but the rings were awfully reminiscent of engagement or wedding rings...

Edwin felt bewildered, to say the least, but he knew that some people were sensitive about contact with others, and personal space. He had been like that, himself, back when he was a painfully shy young boy.

"No, no, forgive me," he said, moving away from Leo. "That was uncalled for."

"Edwin," said Adamina quietly, though not without authority in it. Edwin suppressed a sigh and took the few steps back to her side. He could hear the unspoken meaning behind that one uttering of his name: Don't embarrass me.

James, though he'd never dreamed of feeling like such with his sister, desperately wished he was armed. Not because he planned on harming her with gun or sword - but because he had been so caught off guard that he had not had time to prepare himself for this. Seeing her again.

He was silent.

Laurel's eyebrows furrowed. "Who are you?" she demanded.

James's stomach dropped. She... she didn't recognize him? The relief was quickly counteracted by another wave of emotions. If she didn't recognize him after all of these years, would he tell her who he was? Or would he leave it and risk completely destroying their relationship if she were to discover his identity by other means?

"I... I'm..." James stumbled on his words. He didn't know what to say. "My..." he lifted up his hand, revealing the crown marking. "It was on the outside of the door. So I was able to get in."

With one glance on the mark on the inside of the door, Laurel made the connection that for whatever reason, she was the only one to let him out, but for some reason - the house, or whomever it was, made it so that he was able to get in to her.

"That doesn't answer my question," she said, observing him closely.

James nodded, lowering his hand. "...Yes... that."

Laurel raised her brows expectantly.

"I... that's - I mean - Laurel? It's you, right?"

Laurel narrowed her eyes at him. "How do you-"

He interjected, admitting it while he had the courage. "It's James."

Laurel stuttered, and blinked a few times. "What."

James watched as now, she was the one to freeze, staring at him in shock. He found himself wishing to say something - something to make up for the years of silence. But instead he only stared back, waiting for her to say something, anything, at all.