Young Writers Society

She knew this wasn't going to be easy, but James was revealing all the holes in her story, and Evaline didn't like it. She had no answer to them, and she felt like she was one thread away from slipping and being exposed.

She found herself clamming up, cheeks burning from a combination of nerves, embarrassment, and fury. "I promise you, you haven't heard of it," she said back, keeping her voice steady. "And what about you? Are you really from the, what was it, the Isles? Did you even grow up on a farm? Did you lie about the goblin raid, too?"

She didn't mean to be so blunt, but if he was bent on exposing her, she'd rather she expose him first.

James was ready to bite back and get answers until she turned it back on him. The brief fire in his belly cooled into a pit in his stomach, and tension pulled his muscles taut. He clenched his jaw tight to keep himself from saying anything he might regret at first and took a moment to breathe as he looked out into the rain, habitually scanning it again for signs of life and danger.

Fine. He'd tell her the truth if she wanted it so badly.

"I grew up in the Moonlight Kingdom," he said quietly, just loud enough to hear over the roar of the storm. "On the border, in the farmlands. So yes, I did grow up on a farm. Just in a different place than I told you before."

He also didn't miss the way she referred to the Isles - almost like she'd never heard of them before, or like she didn't believe they were a real place. Almost.

"And there was a goblin raid," he said. "They did destroy our farm."

He kept his eyes pinned on the storming sky.

"And they killed my father."

That was the pain of a partial truth.

"But my mother and sister are still alive."

Turning this back to James was probably not one of Evaline's brighter moments. Turns out, the lie was mostly the truth, and it was just the details that were wrong.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, regretting blowing up in front of him. "That was insensitive."

She sighed, knowing that if she wanted him to trust her, she'd have to at least open up a little bit.

"My parents are still alive," she admitted. "And I don't have a sister. I was describing an old friend instead."

Talking about her jogged Evaline's memory of when they were young and naive, and suddenly it occurred to her: she knew just what to say to get James off her back.

"I lived underground," she blurted out. "There are no horses there and it didn't rain. You asked me where I was on the map, but to be honest, I don't know. It wouldn't be marked." She turned back to face him. "I'm not lying when I said you wouldn't have heard of it."

"Yeah, I haven't heard of it," James said, his voice tired, but he wasn't going to let this drop just yet.

"But I don't even know how you'd make that work - living underground? Didn't you need to come up for sunshine? For air? How isolated were you from the rest of the world? I feel like if I asked you to name a place everyone should know, or a person everyone would know, that you wouldn't know the answer."

His eyes darted to the side for a moment as a bird flew in range of his view, going from one tree to another.

"Which I'm not upset about by the way. I'm sure there's an explanation, you just don't seem to want to tell it."

Evaline found herself facepalming herself in frustration. It slipped her mind that this world was... simple. She was used to seemingly be the most ordinary person in the room, but being here in front of James who knew how nothing worked in her normal life was frustrating.

She began to understand how frustrating this might be for him. But still, she really didn't have an answer.

"What do you want me to say that'll make you believe me?" she said, once again deciding to take another big risk. "What, should I say that I use magic to breathe and get sunshine? Or that I come from a different plane of existence? Would that make sense to you?"

James frowned when she facepalmed. He really was trying to understand. He didn't think it had to be this difficult.

Magic? Well, that he could believe. Another plane of existence?

James blinked.

That was... possible?

He stared at Evaline, feeling his mind aching, twisting, and stretching. Trying to make sense of it. Trying to fit it into his understanding of the world. Evaline had been acting strange, and maybe she really was from some secret mage hideout underground. It was far-fetched, but it wasn't impossible. He didn't know enough about magic, but he was willing to believe it. But another plane of existence?

How... how did she get here?

That could explain how she ended up this far in the middle of nowhere, with nothing, dressed like someone who definitely wasn't from here. That could explain her cluelessness. Her fear. Her confusion. Her awe and wonder at simple things.

He felt like was sitting on the edge of belief and disbelief, looking in on both sides, wondering which one was sane.

Traditional belief would be quick to condemn her as crazy. But did she genuinely believe it? Evaline seemed self-aware enough to keep secrets. She had to have known this sounded crazy. She wouldn't just say it carelessly.

She wanted him to trust her. It would be wrong if he didn't at least try.

He would give her the benefit of the doubt.

"So... you're telling me you're from a different world?"

Evaline found herself leaning forward in anticipation as she watched James study her. A drop of sweat slid down her face, but she couldn't tell if it was because of her nerves or because she was too close to the fire.

She had presented this possibility as potential sarcasm, but she wasn't sure if James would take it seriously. Judging from the seriously stumped look of his face, it looked like he took the bait.

"If I say yes," she said slowly, trying not to mess this up, "would you even believe me?"

James pushed himself up off the rock he was leaning on. It took a bit of effort. He'd gotten stiff, sitting in the same position for a while.

He turned to face Evaline from across the fire and mirrored her posture. Sitting up straight, but leaning forward.

He was listening.

"I'm willing to hear you out," he said.

An uncertain fluttering in his stomach started spinning.

"Yes."

For a few seconds, Evaline stood perfectly still, hands clamming up as she studied James's face to see if there was any hint of doubt or distrust.

But as crazy as this all sounds, he actually seemed to believe her.

She let out the longest sigh, relaxing her posture. She hadn't said anything yet, but it already felt like a weight had been lifted off her back.

"Then yes. I'm not from this world," she said cooly. "In fact, I don't even know what this world is called. Is it still on Earth? Am I even on the same planet? I don't know." She paused, taking a deep breath to regain control of her nervous rambling. "But I really wasn't lying about living underground. I don't anymore, but I did growing up. We can make an artificial atmosphere and sun. The ecosystem is all man made. And yes, of course we farm, although not in the same way you do. And no one eats meat. That's just inhumane."

Evaline stopped there then looked back at James with panicked nervous eyes. She had rambled again; she was often told that this was her sign of an incoming breakdown. Would he believe anything she just said? Maybe she shouldn't have dropped a bomb of truth on him. Why was she thinking so impulsively lately?

James saw how Evaline's hands trembled, though she tried to hide it. He could hear the nerves and the fear in her voice. He listened closely, trying to absorb every word and understand it to the best of his ability.

Another world. Earth? He'd never heard of it. Another planet having life on it was something he'd only considered loosely, but the possibility was captivating.

"We call our planet Nye," he said after a bout of silence.

"Earth sounds very different... what made you move up to the surface, after living underground?"

He believed her.

Another wave of relief washed over her, but it was halted when James asked about why she had decided to live on the surface.

Out of all the things she shared, he decided to focus on that? Since Nye seemed so archaic with horses and with what she assumed was medieval weapons to fight, she was sure he was going to ask about the mechanics of how things worked in Earth. Or maybe ask about why she was underground. These were all answers she would be happy to talk about.

But why did she specifically leave to go to the surface? That was a hundred steps ahead.

"I..." she began, hoping the words would flow out of her like vomit since that seemed to be the theme since sitting down in the cave. "I had to."

Her mind blanked and instinctively she started to deflect again.

"We all have to leave home someday. Isn't that what you did too?"

"Yes," James said slowly. Gently. "But we all leave for a reason."

He paused, looking down into the fire.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I was just wondering."

James had shared so much, and Evaline had just dropped an unbelievable truth bomb at him that he somehow miraculously believed. She felt obligated to tell him, but how could she even start? He probably had no concept of powers, and without explaining that first, she couldn't explain why she left home, and definitely not the war.

Growing up, she used to be a bit insecure of her own power because it wasn't anything anyone could see. She wasn't like her friends or classmates who mostly could prove then and there that they could manipulate matter, or photons, or energy, or whatever scientific means they had control over.

But she had already learned that there was something she could do to show him.

"Hey," she said, coarsely, breaking the brief silence. "I think it would be easier if I showed you something first."

She shifted her position so she was sitting on her knees.

"Remember when I said that I can help you remember who killed your father?" she asked, being sure to substitute father instead of family. "I can still do that, but it doesn't have to be that memory if you don't want it to. It can be any memory. Anything you feel strongly about. Anything you need help remembering."

She tilted her face down, nervously anticipating his reaction. Even though she had already offered to do this before, it felt extra vulnerable to ask without a motivating reason.

James leaned back a little, remembering earlier that day. She'd been so cryptic then, and she was still cryptic now, but she was at least giving him an option. He really didn't want to remember that memory. Not right now. It was too painful.

He tried to think of a memory he felt strongly about, but couldn't quite remember clearly. He assumed it could be any kind of emotion, as long as it was strong. He felt like he had one in mind.

"Do I... have to tell you what it is first?"

Evaline shook her head. "No," she said. "I wouldn't want you to tell me, anyways. It would be easier to prove without knowing." She paused, peering over him again. She had a feeling he was going to ask 'prove what?' so she spoke before he could say anything else.

"Think of a memory you don't remember well, but you feel strongly about. You have to feel strongly about it, though. It doesn't matter what emotion it is—just as long as it's strong. Does anything come to mind?"