Stop pretending like you know me more than you actually do.

Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 2nd Generation
Current Date: October 12, 2057

Character: Jessika Sile
Race: Drow – Demi-Goddess of Fight
Age: 72, physically about 25
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
 

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I love our dog, I do. I adore her to bits and when she’s behaved as she is most of the time, she’s the perfect companion. When we go on walks, she’s always looking to find all the birds she can, but she never strays. When we get either to the fields where we let her roam or even the beach, we give her the go-ahead and she just goes right for those very birds.

There are days when it’s a little harder, though. There are no two ways of looking at it, no matter how much we might have trained her and made sure that we take care of her to the best of our abilities, there are days when she’ll be a stubborn one and try for nips at our fingers because we’re in her bubble. It was part of her character when we got her and it’s a rare occurrence. It happens, but it’s very uncommon and I know I’m not the only one who is glad about that.

Once in a blue moon moodiness isn’t worth putting her down. We’re not like that and we’ve yet to be able to really understand what leads to these days. They’re so rare that we can’t really keep track of what might have triggered her or otherwise, so we make the best of these days when they happen.

The rare times these things do happen, I compare her to a turbulent teenager. At this point, I suppose that it isn’t quite right anymore, she’s closer to an adult in age than a teenager but her behaviour during these days makes her seem younger in a way. It might sound strange, but it is how I see it.

The last time it did happen, it was actually, and surprisingly so, short-lived. She started her day on a sour note but, by mid-morning, perhaps near lunch, she was back to being her sweet, darling little self.

At times, I ask myself if things wouldn’t be different if she could talk. Now, I don’t actually want her to talk. I don’t know that I’d be able to wrap my mind around it. I’m sure it could make sense down the road but right this very moment, I don’t need to hear her talk though I do wonder what it would be like if she could.

Would she flip both of us off when she’s feeling moody? Would she tell us to stop pretending like we know her more than we really do? Would she just not talk to us at all one way or another? There are so many ways that this line of thought could head into, I don’t know that any of them would do things justice if words somehow were to be part of her world. I know that she understands our own as we speak to her, but not in the way I understand others when they talk to me.

In her case, it really is more about repetition and the fact that certain words have been indeed repeated again and again and the vocabulary we use with her is limited, in the end. Yes, there are days when I might baby-talk to her some but I very much so doubt that she can understand a word that I’m saying. She understands the tone of voice as being a good thing and one that usually does lead to a treat—or a walk—but I think that this is about it.

I think that my mind could go on for hours trying to imagine what the world would be like if animals could talk—now, I’m aware of shifters and other species out there, but that’s not what this is about. This is really about the feral ones. Birds, rodents, fishes, cats, dogs, horses and everything in between that might be out there. The ones that were studied once upon a time and being shown as having their own high level of intellect in their own way but not so much in a manner that makes them able to have conversations with others of their own species.

I don’t even know where this fascination came from, it must have been from my younger years, it’s always been a thought at the back of my mind, something that’s just there but isn’t really all that important for more than just a passing thought every so often. Something that would make me smile as I would look at the birds, singing their songs, and I’d wonder what they’d be thinking about—I know the answer to that now, of course, but I didn’t back then.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who has these thoughts, really.

Final Word Count: 785

Stop telling me what to do when you don’t know the other side of the story. It’s just bad advice at that point.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 2nd Generation
Characters: Jessika Sile
Race: Drow – Demi-Goddess of Fight
Age: 72, physically about 25
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
Final Word Count: 786 words
 

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I still dance, I don’t think that this is ever going to be taken from me. I still dance with Deus, at least, in a general sense of the world. We get together every other week or so, one day of that week and we just dance. For years, we danced. Competitions all over the world when we were just so much younger. It was a blissful time in our lives.

Not that it was perfect at all times and not that I don’t have some regrets about certain days, but I think that these are somewhat inevitable. I think that it’s just one of those things; no life is meant to be perfect. Perfect would feel like a sign that something might be wrong. Perfect is, well, it’s boring. When everything is going too well and just right, and nothing ever goes wrong, even if it’s just a misplaced item.

I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy these quiet days at home where things are as perfect as they can be, that’s beside the point. There is a difference between how my life is going right now, and everything, back then, being exactly as it should be with not a single hair out of place. If everything was right and just perfect at all times, I think that there would be boredom to be had somewhere. Everything all the same and identical and nothing ever happening out of turn? No, thank you.

Anyway. That’s beside the point. I’m tired, I’m rambling.

Growing up wasn’t always fun. I mean, I grew up with my aunt—something I only learned in my teens. She’d lost the little one she’d been carrying—a fairly complicated story, that—so my parents somehow decided that it would be a good idea for me to be raised by my aunt. Give her something to hold onto. Now, being raised by Tara was not a bad thing. She was a good mother, and it is through her that I discovered my passion for dancing but it was time spent with my siblings—my cousins to me, back then—that didn’t always go according to plan.

Not that I’d made plans, but hey, they were family, I wanted to spend time with her, it didn’t usually work out in my favour because Sarah was a stubborn idiot. I love my sister, don’t get me wrong, but we butted heads so often that it was ridiculous. She was always getting in trouble and, being as I am, sure, I was pretty often trying to help her, but she wouldn’t let me.

Constantly, she’d be telling me to stop telling her what to do when I didn’t know both sides of the story. I was just giving her pretty terrible advice. It hurt every time, but still, I persisted in trying to help her because, well, she was family. She might have been my cousin, but she felt like a sister to me, and I didn’t like the idea of her being in trouble. Ryan tended to stay out of it altogether. He’s a pacifist through and through, which, in its own way, is fairly amusing considering our parents but that’s just one of those things, I know.

I feel like growing up was a challenge. I’m not saying that everyone else growing up didn’t have to face their own challenges, I’m just saying that while I was growing up, it certainly was something else. Ryan just minding his own business, Sarah constantly getting in trouble, and little old me just wanting to dance while still going out of my way to help Sarah who didn’t want my help at all.

We exhausted our parents, I’m sure. That’s part of being a child, isn’t it? I have plenty of memories of feeling as though the kids were trying to exhaust me on purpose, though I know better. There’s something magical to being a parent and I have no regrets whatsoever. Certainly, there was the fear that I wouldn’t be up to the task of being the best mother I ever could be but that was unfounded.

Sure, there are things I possibly could have done differently but that’s part of growing up. I was still learning plenty about life, even when the kids were growing up. I don’t think anyone ever stops learning. I’m not sure where I heard this particular saying from, but it has to do with the fact that you never really stop learning. You do learn something new every day, even if it is minimal. The day your life comes to its end is the day you stop learning.

I think this is one of those things that will stay with me forever.

Who’re you calling cute? I’m a fierce warrior and nothing stands in my way.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 2nd Generation
Characters: Jessika Sile
Race: Drow – Demi-Goddess of Fight
Age: 70, physically about 25
Final Word Count: 634 words
 

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Dogs are just the cutest thing at all stages of their lives. Okay, yes, cats can be just as adorably cute but this isn’t the point. I’ve seen plenty of young animals grow from a very young age to adulthood but I’m still biased to dogs and I can’t help it, I don’t really want to help it.

We’ve had different dog breeds over the years. When I was younger, I used to believe in the idea of trying to keep them with us forever because I wasn’t ready to let them go when the time came, but I realized that they’d lived their lives to the fullest when they reached a particular age and while it hurt to watch them go, it was all right. They’d had a full life.

The most recent addition to our household turned out to be a Picardy Spaniel. There was spirit to her when we first got her and that seemed a little unusual for her breed type. Mind you, I say ‘spirit’ when I mean she’d be a little aggressive but we managed to work that out of her with a lot of exercise and good training; now, well now, she likes to locate birds and point away at them before giving them playful chase when we give her the go-ahead.

When she was just a little pup, I’m pretty sure that she’d give us an evil glare whenever we’d call her cute. I swear. She’d pause; turn her head our way whenever we’d say ‘cute’ and I’m sure I saw a little tiny squint in those beautiful eyes of her as if she dared me to repeat the words. As if, somehow, she was reminding me that she was a fierce warrior and nothing would stand in her way.

She was adorable. She was even more adorable when her aggressive behaviour passed.

She’s a few years old now, still quite young in terms of dogs but I think that she was a good choice. There just are so many breeds out there; or, well, there were. I don’t know how many of them went extinct with most of humanity when they fought their third war. Animals brought into households are born much the same way as those of us here born of same-sex parents. We came from the tube, born from mixed genes.

In the case of animals, of course, the genes come from a pool of them that was saved before the world ended as we knew it. I’m sure more genes are being rediscovered still as time passes. It’s all very science and biology-centric and it’s a fair bit over my head. I don’t think much about it but it’s always interesting the read the news of which species of animal or plant life had been rediscovered.

Does that mean, in a way, that we’re playing god? Most any plant that has been catalogued can be recreated, the same goes for most animals but I know that we don’t do these things. Not really. I do know that new and rediscovered plants are tested out in sealed greenhouses to make sure their behaviour isn’t invasive but you can’t really do that with animals but it’s a matter of logic, too.

While some might adore the dinosaurs, we’re never going to be reproducing them; at least, I don’t think so. What would be the point of recreating some oversized beast that lived forever ago? Plus, didn’t we all see that one series of movies about the scientists who did that? Of course, they got quite a few of their dinosaur design wrong but that’s just one of those things. They might have been cute but compared to a dog, these really were fierce warriors and nothing would stand in their way.

It’s a really strange tale.

 
Timeline/World: Atheria – 2nd Generation
Characters: Jessika Sile
Race: Drow – Demi-Goddess of Fight
Age: 69, physically about 25
Final Word Count: 591 words
 

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At times, children will tell you the strangest of tales. At least, that’s what I heard while I was out there, doing my best to keep going despite the darkness that had taken over my world, the darkness that had forced everyone apart.

Well, almost everyone.

I still was young back then, I didn’t give the idea of children much thought, I also just didn’t really expect to have any of my own, not really. It’s one of those family things I guess. I know my parents—my mom mostly from what I’ve heard them say—didn’t think they’d ever have children. It wasn’t in our blood, in theirs. My mom was an assassin for hire; can you imagine an assassin for hire having kids? That’s a bit laughable, I guess.

So when we all came back, when we settled, when children did happen, I was in heaven, how could I not be? I didn’t know what to expect when it came to raising them but I wasn’t doing it alone and I believe we did a good job as parents, the best job we could and our kids turned out to be wonderful people.

Though I admit that now and again, they did come home with some strange tales just waiting to be told.

Things glimpsed through the branches at the edge of society, a story learned through their schooling, something that had happened while at school. No two child will ever tell you the same story, even if, in the long run, the story is one and the same, it will seem like two different stories if they’re told by two different little ones. Imagination seems to fill in some gaps and make for interesting tales.

The strangest tale I was ever told came out of Roxanne’s mouth and it had to do with dancing eyes in her closet. Now, I didn’t take her lightly, I knew better. There could have been something in her closet, I know this better than anyone else and we made sure that all was safe.

The thing is, she didn’t seem afraid when she told us the story. She was animated, gesticulating; her eyes wide and full of excitement as though she’d just made a new friend. I hadn’t ever really seen her that way before, it was strange and for a little while, I had been a bit worried that something had gotten into her but it had only been her imagination and nothing else, my baby girl was fine.

She only ever saw these eyes once, there weren’t just two, either, there were seven. I don’t mean seven pairs of eyes, I mean just seven eyes and none of them seemed to be attached or paired up with any others. There was no sound, no laughter, no creaking, no growling, she told us there was no sense of danger coming from those eyes. They were merely dancing patterns in her partially cracked open closet door. She would draw these patterns with her fingers in the air, her little tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration as though she’d memorized it all.

It really was the only time we’d ever heard about them and I know I’m still not sure about what they might or might not have been, it’s just had to know. Not that it really matters at this point, I don’t think. I know there was nothing malicious in her closet back then and she’s safe and sound, a woman and long since moved out of this house.

Why’d you pair me up with them? We go together like a giant hand and a really small glove.

Timeline/World: Atheria 2nd Generation
Characters: Jessika Sile
Race: Drow – Demi-Goddess of Fight
Age: 68, physically about 25
Final Word Count: 526 words

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When our world fell into the darkness—I am aware that most call this the ‘big break away’ or ‘break apart’, but to me, it is more like a dip into darkness—I turned into the only thing that was meant to keep me sane. Dancing has always been my escape from reality and I have spent years doing competitions and enjoying myself, at least, usually.

I remember, during my first few months, that my teacher had paired me up with another new dancer in the group and it was the one thing that almost made me turn away from dancing. We just couldn’t get along. It wasn’t even about letting him lead as the male partner, it was the simple fact that our personalities clashed utterly and they did until he decided he hated dancing and moved on. Those were some of the worst months of my life. Months I still feel were wasted with the likes of him.

I never could get an answer out of my teacher as to why he had paired us up together. There were plenty of people in the group and all of them fairly new, I could have been paired with any single one of them but I had to be paired with this particular idiot who almost made me quit.

Thankfully, my new partner was someone I was already more than familiar with and he still was my partner up until the world ended. At least, it ended for those out and around us but not for us inside our home—the story is long and complicated, not something I really want to get into.

We went to so many competitions, brought back so many medals, so many trophies. All this dancing and all these competitions really were the only reasons I kept my sanity while the world was dark. I saw so many faces fall, hearts break and hopes be dashed when everyone went their own way, manipulated by invisible strings.

It has been more than thirty-five years since this hellish darkness happened and I know that not all have recovered from its clinging grasp. I still remember some of the names of the ones who never came back. I know they have little headstones out there in the special place but it feels wrong that they left and never came back. All I can hope is that perhaps they had managed to make a happy life for themselves out there before everything came to an abrupt halt.

I am aware that life is not always fair. I think, quite honestly, that life rarely is fair. You still have to make your own way; you have to stand for what you believe in and stay strong. I know you might not feel strong, but if you’ve made it this far in life, if you’ve lived this long, you’re stronger than a lot of others who have given up along the way, think of it that way. Not every day is going to be perfect and wearing rose-tinted glasses will do you no good but if you still can move ahead, you can keep going.