Young Writers Society

Using the hand that had previously been supporting Tristan's back, Azazel wiped away the tears forming in the otter's eyes. Then he took a deep breath, knowing that he was just going to have to tell Tristan the truth. "Tristan, those are your memories," he admitted. "You just don't remember them ever happening. Gabriel and I went through the same thing - when we first met you as Saentiel and Azazel, neither one of us remembered who we are now. We didn't even remember all of the things we had been through together."

His hand returned to Tristan's back. After a moment of hesitation, he began to gently rub it in an effort to calm the otter down. "...You're like us," he finally said. "You're not a child. No one here really is. You were turned into one the moment you stepped inside of the forest, and you lost your adult memories when you did. The visions you have are the memories returning, even if they seem strange and don't make sense to you right now."


God - God, he couldn't believe that was his real name - looked down at the little boy beside him. If the fangs were anything to go off, he had to be a vampire. And he knew he should have been wary of vampires - interacting with anything perceived as bad could tarnish his image, and lead to people judging Lucifer even more than they already did.

But he was God now. He wasn't just Joshua. And maybe he was letting the power get to his head, but he suddenly didn't feel half as afraid of the consequences as he had before. He leaned down and picked up the boy, following through with his request.

Lucifer stared at him. "You were in another one of my memories," he said. He took a hesitant step forward, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side as he looked him over. "You were dressed in a funny suit of armor, and you really liked him."

Lucifer pointed at the man dressed in the strange black clothes. Even though God didn't fully recognize him, something about him felt familiar - and it must have been a shared feeling, because the man was staring at him like he had seen a ghost.

"You're Joshua?"

"...Have we met?" God asked, getting an even worse feeling of recognition now that they were talking.

"I'm your-" The man stopped and sighed. "I doubt Lucifer will believe me, but you might. You seem about the same, though I don't see your bat anywhere - which might be a plus side. I'm Gabriel Eberhardt. I'm your friend, God. You just don't remember it because this forest is taking away people's memories and turning them into children. You and Lucifer just look slightly different, since neither of you had childlike forms to begin with-"

Before God could even register half of what had just been said, Gabriel let out a swear.

"Where's Quinn?" he asked, exasperated. "I swear she was right next to me!"


The adults all looked like they were talking, and her playmate was preoccupied, so Quinn decided to follow the crying boy. He kind of reminded her of Mr. Taber - only he was a otter and not a wolf. But otters were cooler anyways, so that didn't really bug her. And while Mr. Taber looked all panicked, he didn't really chase after him like she did.

It's probably because he's old, she told herself, giving a wise nod as she pushed past another bush. Her shoes had been forgotten near the tree line, and she was tempted to throw off her dress too - she could barely run in it! But she did manage to finally catch up to the crying boy, so at least she could do that.

She darted over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hiya!" she said, giving him a wave as she stepped in front of him. "Want to be my friend? You look sad and lonely, and being sad and lonely isn't any fun."

"I don't get it," Tristan said. He started shaking a little more, some strange feeling crawling its way into his stomach. He wanted to get out of Azazel's arms. But Azazel had been so nice, hadn't he? Azazel was trying to wipe the tears out of Tristan's eyes, hold Tristan in his arms, make Tristan feel comfortable. But something about it wasn't working. "How could a forest do that? And how come most of my memories kinda suck? I'd like something happier."

Tristan shut his eyes and concentrated. Maybe he could make that happen - maybe he could see a good memory. And that would tell him that it really was his memories (unless he was just miserable all the time, which Tristan knew couldn't be right), and that he had somehow been turned into a child. But he needed to focus.

Focus.

Focus...

The shadow over Tristan's head shrunk, aiming for the dragon. The dragon had enough time to look up before a hound crashed into the water, feet slamming into the dragon's skull. Tristan could see the dragon's eyes roll back into its head as it started to sink. The dragon let go of Tristan's paw, arms and legs going still.

Tristan reached for it, grabbing a finger and trying to pull the dragon up. The dragon might've tried to attack him, but his whole job had been to rescue any survivors. And, like it or not, the dragon qualified. A really heavy survivor, at that - Tristan could feel himself sinking deeper into the lake with every second.

"Tristan!" yelled Kynan from under the water. The otter felt the hound grab onto his shoulder. But the hound couldn't help much either - from the hound's flailing and kicking, he obviously hadn't learned from their swimming lessons. Tristan's heartrate doubled, anxiety propelling his legs. But, try as he might, he couldn't make up for the dragon's weight. They either had to let the dragon drown, or both of them would.

Then Tristan felt something tugging on him. He looked up to see Kynan grabbing onto a net that had been tossed from the boat. Something pulled all of them to the surface of the water, far away from the darkness at the bottom of the lake. With his free hand, Tristan gripped the net, using it to anchor himself and haul the dragon to the surface.

Tristan and Kynan broke the surface of the water around the same time. Hands reached out and yanked them onto the deck of the boat, leaving them to sprawl out on the wooden deck before those others grabbed the dragon that Tristan had briefly let go of.

The otter coughed, spitting out water. His vision swam as he looked up at a now clear sky. The battle was over. They'd won. Finally. Swapping a nervous laugh with Kynan, who'd realized the same thing, the otter turned on his side and wrapped his arms around the hound.

A couple of familiar faces popped up at the edge of his vision.

"Great job, hero," Kendrik said, scowling as he nudged Kynan. Kendrik grabbed a coat and threw it down at Kynan. "Now put your shirt back on."

Aegeas, meanwhile, leaned close to Tristan, who was still embracing Kynan. The older otter was smiling. Smiling. That was odd.

"I'm proud of you," Aegeas whispered, voice strained and cracking. After what had happened a couple weeks ago, that made sense; it had to be hard for Aegeas to talk to Tristan at all.

Tristan breathed a sigh of relief. But Aegeas had said something. And maybe everything would be alright now.

As his senses came back to him, Tristan gasped. "That's who I am!" he said, looking up at Azazel. "I have a boyfriend! I save people! I have a great brother! I-"

The strange feeling that Tristan had felt earlier swallowed him up. An odd warmth flooded over him, tugging at his arms and legs. The otter looked down to see himself growing. Arms wrapped around Azazel's chest, legs dangled down to Azazel's knees, and Tristan soon found himself staring into Azazel's eyes.

Oh, that explained why he had been so uncomfortable.

"Uh," Tristan said, pausing. He thought for a few seconds, then stared down at the ground. "Could you let me down now? I, think I'm done crying."



Eugh. Of course this tree wasn't a good hiding spot. There weren't any good hiding spots here. He'd always be caught, and he'd always do something wrong, and he'd always run.

Aegeas fell to the ground, curling up into a ball. "I'm not sad and lonely," he cried, tears pouring onto the ground as his voice trembled. "I'm evil. I keep trying to do good things, and I keep hurting the people around me, and I keep making a mess. Please me alone before I hurt you too."

The sudden switch from the weight of a child in his arms to the weight of an adult threw him off, but his robotic body thankfully let him remained balanced. He placed the now adult Tristan down on the ground before, looking the otter over as he tried to switch the old mental image of him with the new.

And that was when he suddenly realized something.

"...How are we going to explain this to your brother?"


She sat down right next to him, giving him a big pat on the shoulder. She wasn't sure where she had decided to do that from - her mommy and daddy never did it with her. But she knew it made her feel better, so hopefully it would make the crying boy feel better, too!

"I don't think you're evil!" she told him. "I think you just made a mistake. I think someone told me that mistakes are okay, as long as you know how to apologize! And I think you know how to apologize, if you're getting all upset now."

Looking up at Azazel, and trying hard to ignore how strong Azazel had to be to pick up Tristan and move around so easily, the otter shrugged. "I have no clue," he said. "Aegeas is...Aegeas. If he doesn't want to believe something, he won't. We just have to hope he's in a better mood when we find him, I guess."

Given the expression on Aegeas's face, he was almost certainly depressed, angry, or otherwise emotional, but Tristan didn't want to admit that. Being older than his older brother was awkward enough.



"No, I don't," Aegeas sobbed. He tried to hold back his voice, in case he said anything else stupid, but she made him feel more comfortable to talk, oddly enough. "What if they don't forgive me? What am I supposed to do then?"

Azazel nodded. After giving another glance in Tristan's direction to make sure the otter was still coming with him, he began to head back into the woods. "Then let's keep searching for him."


Quinn furrowed her brow and pursed her lips, trying to come up with the right answer. She didn't know why someone wouldn't accept an apology. People were supposed to! That was just how the world worked. She felt sorry for the crying boy if the people he knew didn't like apologies.

"Then there's something wrong with them," she declared, "and you don't need to worry about it!"--

--She was being followed.

The tears on her pale cheeks had long ago dried; she was too consumed by her fear to feel miserable. Her parents loved to paint pictures of the forgotten downtown alleyways, but she had always chalked it up to them not liking the lower classes. They were predictable like that - if they had seen what she was wearing now, they would have thrown a fit. But she hadn’t cared then. She was going to run away, and they would no long be dictating her life.

And yet this wasn’t the picture perfect escape she had imagined for weeks upon weeks. She had been followed for the past twenty minutes. She took random turns and entered random streets, but he was almost always there when she turned around. Something about him didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Maybe it was how he had bandages on his fingers, or maybe it was how none of his clothes fit quite right. Maybe it was the way he concealed his face underneath a hood. Or maybe it was something else, some inkling of something else that she couldn’t quite comprehend.

Whatever it was, she just had to lose him.

She turned the corner-

-and realized she had come to a dead end.

She spun around, heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the figure at the end of the alleyway.

“You’re Quinn Holt,” he said. There was a strange static to his voice, almost like he was trying to talk over a bad telephone connection or on a radio that was about to give out. He took a step forward, only to pause when she took a step back.

“And?” she asked. Her hands were balled into fists at her side, but she doubted she could swing them. All she could do was dig her fingernails into the palms of her hands.

“I want to make a deal with you,” he said.

She stared.

The man let out a sigh — he was frustrated, but she didn’t know why. Was it because she hadn’t given a response? Answering would solve that, but she didn’t want to agree to something like this when she didn’t even know what the deal would involve.

“I need someone skilled with robotics,” he said. “You’ve worn countless competitions. I’ve seen the story on the news. I wouldn’t ask for a deal unless I was certain you could uphold your part of the contract.”

“...Who are you?” Quinn finally asked.

He shook his head. “I can’t tell you unless you agree.”

She took a deep breath. She could do robotics, and it seemed like it was an easy way to get out of this situation. She just had to find out what she would get, and what the “deal” entailed. “So what will I get out of it?”

“I can’t do much right now,” he admitted, “but I can fulfill almost any dream of yours. Money, fame, power - I can give it to you, though I draw the line at anything involving murder, kidnapping, or torture.”

“Anything I want?”

He nodded.

An idea - a preposterous one - suddenly came to her, but she had to see if it was true.

“Are you the Devil?” she said. “Are you...Are you trying to get me to sell my soul?”

He let out a little laugh - it didn’t last long, but something about it sounded wrong. Yet the noise made her happy, too; something told her he didn’t laugh all that much. “I don’t deal in souls, Ms. Holt, and I’m not Satan. I just have friends in very high places. All I need you to do is to fix a robot. If you do that, I’ll do anything outside of my restrictions.”

She took another deep breath.

She already knew her answer.

“I’ll do it,” she agreed. “Help me leave my family. Please. I-I can’t stay there anymore. If they could never find me, I’d be happier than I’ve ever been.”
The air suddenly felt heavy with a strange warmth, and, for just a second, she thought she could see a line connecting her heart to the man’s. But that was stupid, wasn’t it?

“The deal’s been made,” he said. “I’m bound to my word, just as you’re bound to yours.”

He pushed back his hood.

Quinn’s breath caught in her throat.

He could have passed for human, if it wasn’t for the metal showing through artificial skin and the eye flickering from blue to dark brown in quick succession as it jerked from one part of his eye to the other.

“You’re the robot,” she managed to get out.

He nodded.

“My name’s Azazel,” he said. She recognized the name - she had heard it before on a TV show when flipping through the channels, though she couldn’t remember which one. “I would have told you before, but I doubted you would believe me until we made the deal. I’m...restricted. I can’t show you my full range of abilities, but I’m a demon. Not Satan, though you’re not the first to confuse the two of us.”

She gulped. “I-I made a deal with a demon?”

“You’re not damned,” he reassured her. “It’s a common misconception. It just means that our souls are bound until we each fulfill our end of the bargain, or until one of us dies. It’s little more than a feeling - it wouldn’t harm your chances of getting into whatever afterlife you desire.”--

--Quinn stared at the tree in front of her, absentmindedly continuing to pat the crying boy as she tried to understand what she had just seen. Uncle Issac was really Uncle Azazel? And was a demon? And was a robot? That was making her head hurt. Also, she had been really big in the whatever-that-was, and her voice was different. Was she older then?

She turned back to the crying boy.

“I just had a really weird daydream,” she informed him. She didn’t know what he’d think of it, or even if he wanted to hear about daydreams, but she had to tell someone. “My Uncle Issac was actually Uncle Azazel and he was a robot and a demon and I think I was older and have you ever had a weird daydream like that?"

"No," Aegeas sobbed, "And I don't want any. They're a bad sign - they mean that this forest is getting to you and driving you crazy. And it's all Azazel's fault." He wrapped his arms around his head, looking away from the girl.

She frowned.

"But Uncle Azazel's nice!" she protested. He wouldn't ever try to harm her. It seemed like he knew her uncle, but he must have not known him that well. Anyone that knew him knew how good he was. "He lets me be me, and always comes up with the coolest ideas!"

Then she hesitated, her frown deepening.

"...At least, I think he's like that," she admitted. "I don't remember too much about him, but I bet I'll remember soon! He must have been at one of my daddy's big, fancy parties with all the pol-i-tici-ans, or at one of my mommy's shows in the audience."

"I don't know," came Aegeas's muffled voice. "I just don't like him, and I don't think you should either."

"But I do," Quinn said, straightening and giving the crying boy a very confident look. "I don't think I could ever not like Uncle Issac-Azazel! He really is nice, even if you don't like him right now. I...I think that happens a lot. His smile's kind of funny, and his eyes don't look right. But he's a really fun person to be with!"

She took a deep breath, trying to make up for how little she had breathed during that part of the conversation.

"And Uncle Gabriel liked him enough to marry him," she added--

--Gabriel slung his arm around her shoulder. “I call dibs on the human tonight, Issac,” he declared, already opening the door with his free hand. “You got her all last week. It's only fair that I get her now.”

“You were working a case then,” Issac said, still quite amused by the conversation.

“If I remember right,” Quinn joined in, because she never missed an opportunity to tease Gabriel, “you went all loner and told us not to bother you.”

His shoulders slumped. “I had to deal with an old friend.”

“We had to deal with that old friend,” Quinn corrected. And they had barely managed to do it, too – that old friend had been a particularly nasty demon, and had tried running a sharp pole through Issac when things got dicey. Luckily, Issac wasn't exactly flesh and blood. And, luckily, Issac had the instinct to grab said pole and try stabbing his would-be-killer with it. He had fled and they had gotten out of the encounter with only minor injuries, but it was still one of those experiences that was impossible to forget.

“Still, Issac got to hog you for that week,” Gabriel said in what was a clear attempt to avoid the subject. Issac's eyes lingered on him, the imitation of a smile dying on his lips as the attempt worked. “So it's only right that I get to hog you now.”

She sighed. He had a point, and he would likely follow how out into the lobby if she said no.

“Fine,” she said. “Let's go.”

Gabriel gave a triumphant cheer, grabbing onto her wrist and dragging her out of the room--

--She held a hand up to her forehead.

"I just got another one of those daydreams," she informed him, turning to her newfound friend and pointing at her head with free hand. "Uncle Issac-Azazel and Uncle Gabriel were both there! I think...I think Uncle Gabriel doesn't like a lot of people, so it means a lot that he likes Uncle Issac-Azazel. And even though Uncle Gabriel's kind of annoying - I think? - he's a really, really good person and can tell if someone's good or not!"

Aegeas sucked in a shaky breath. He moved an arm to get a good look at the girl next to him. "Maybe Gabriel's just there to keep an eye on you and make sure you're safe from Azazel." The otter paused, voice turning soft. "But, can Gabriel tell me if I'm good?"

She eagerly nodded.

"Uh-huh!" she agreed, grinning from one ear to the other. "Uncle Gabriel definitely could!"

Then her grin faltered.

"Uncle Gabriel doesn't need to keep me safe," she declared, crossing her arms and pouting. "I can handle things on my own, just like when I went in the forest! Even though Adriel was being really mean and scary I-"

She hesitated, the words that she had just spoken replaying her head. They didn't make any kind of sense. She didn't even know who Adriel was, even though she felt like - if she really did - she'd hate him a lot. And hate was a strong word, so he must have been a pretty bad person.

But what did she feel like she knew someone she had never met before?

And why did everything suddenly feel so wrong-

A pained cry suddenly erupted from her lips as she hunched over, hugging her body in a desperate attempt to fight back the searing pain that was quickly spreading throughout it. Her head felt like it was getting hit again and again and again, and a stream of visions were rushing into her head all at once. She only had a brief break from the pain to comprehend the reality that accompanied them before the pain returned, this time in the rest of her body.

Her clothing changed from a pristine, doll-like dress to jeans and t-shirt, and her bare feet were quickly covered in a trusty pair of sneakers. Her hair receded back into a short bob, and her green eyes (though currently closed) gained a look of wisdom that they hadn't had earlier. Her body became taller and leaner, though not excessively so - she was just the right size for a girl her age.

Then the pain stopped.

She hesitantly opened her eyes and stared at her dirt-stained pants, staring at how her nails were digging into her legs. She remembered, now. She wasn't a little kid. She was a technical adult, even though Gabriel and Issac never wanted to call her one. She faltered. Saentiel and Azazel, technically. She could remember Adriel - the angel who had forced her to follow the two demons in to the forest when neither returned - calling Gabriel Saentiel.

How had she never realized what he had once been?

...Better yet, where was he? She had something she desperately needed to tease him about - it was time for some sweet, sweet revenge.

But, first, she had to calm down the otter boy - she didn't even know how that was possible - since he would likely be frightened by what he had seen. Of course, she still hadn't understood what had happened her.

She turned to him.

Unsure of how to approach the situation, she hesitantly said, "...Hi?"

When the girl had started screaming, so had Aegeas. That had to be Azazel. The timing had been all too perfect. It couldn't be any coincidence that she'd finally gone insane talking about him.

Aegeas had climbed up his way up the tree, resting against the branches and slamming paws over his ears to drown out the sound of screaming, blinking tears away from his eyes furiously.

And then the screaming stopped. Opening an eye and pulling a paw away from an ear, Aegeas saw some lady was trying to introduce herself.

"Who are you?" Aegeas said slowly. "And what did you do with that girl?" She looked familiar, but he couldn't place why.

...He hadn't seen the change?

Quinn got a knot in her stomach - this was going to be even harder than expected. She wished Azazel was here; he would know what to do. He had surely been in a situation somewhat like this before. Even though she was technically an adult, she felt just as helpless as she had been when she was a little kid.

"I'm Quinn," she said, "and I didn't do anything with that girl..."

She took a deep breath, rubbing the back of her neck as she got to her feet.

"I know this is going to sound crazy," she finally began. She looked back up at him, not sure if it would be better to meet his gaze or look at the bark right beside him. "...I'm the girl. I don't know how I was suddenly turned younger - or why I was, but I'm her. I know this might sound odd, and I know that you have a lot of other things to worry about right now. It's crazy for me, and I deal with stuff like this all the time."

She sighed.

"I know you don't have any reason to trust what I'm saying right now, but just look at me. Doesn't my appearance look familiar? My eye color is still the same, and my hair is, too. I just got a haircut."

The otter stared her up and down. It couldn't be the girl. Quinn sort-of looked, smelled, and sounded like the girl if the girl had grown up and ditched the dress. But nobody could just get older like that. Even if Quinn admitted it was kinda crazy, he didn't believe her story.

"Maybe you're just her mom or sister or something," Aegeas said slowly, sniffing and wiping a couple of tears from his eyes.

Remembering what she had on her before getting caught by Adriel, Quinn dug through her jean pockets until she found what she was looking for. She pulled a travel pack of tissues and pulled one out of the already open bag.

"Here," she said. She held up the tissue to the boy. "You can use it to blow your nose or wipe your eyes."

She slipped the pack of tissues back into her pocket, ready to use them again if he needed more.

She gave him a small smile. He was a kid, but kids were smart - he could handle hearing a little bit about her personal life. "My mom would never wear something like this - she was the one who would have picked the dress I was wearing, back when I was actually a kid. Besides, I'm only eighteen, and I think I was...six? a few minutes ago. If I was my own mom, I would have had to have myself at only twelve years old."

She thought over the other part.

"I'm an only child, but you don't have proof of that," she added. She looked around the forest for a second, trying to think of how else she could prove her point. Interacting with the supernatural usually meant having to explain it to regular people, so she had gotten good at getting people to believe her.

She finally looked back at the otter boy.

"If I really was my sister or some other kind of relative, why would I leave me by myself?" Quinn asked, the small smile returning. "I could theoretically be hiding in the bushes near here, but you would have heard that. I could have run away, but I couldn't have gotten far with how short my legs were and how long you had your eyes closed."