Have you ever considered yourself lucky? If the answer is yes, you might just be right.

Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 3rd Generation
Current Date: September 11, 2058

Character: Silvanus Thorn
Race: Elf – Forest
Age: 46, physically about 25
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
 

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In the before-life—a term I started using not long after we’d settled here when it finally sunk in that this place was safe—there were times when I would go out with the hunters. It was not my primary task, which was always keeping him safe, but every now and again, they would allow me to join them, as though perhaps they needed help in feeding others. I think they did that when they found bigger prey to hunt and needed an extra pair of hands to bring it back home.

Some of the hunters were so self-centred that even now when I think about these things—which isn’t all that common—I can’t help but shake my head a little. I can’t help but wonder just what it was that went through their minds. I’ve seen some hunters take aim, but then lower their bow, muttering under their breath that it was the prey’s lucky day and that it might as well just consider itself that much—I think that they were just unable to get themselves to kill something that looked as innocent as these preys did.

That’s just the way I see things, I know I could be wrong. I know that of the times I was out there with them when we saw the huge, slithering predators, no one wasted time muttering under their breath about luck. Aim was taken if the slithering one was big enough and everyone joined in on trying to get the right shot.

This particular part still makes me shake my head. Even now I can’t understand how anyone can think that the best way to kill a predator is to gang up on it. I’m sure that in times of war, this might have been the right answer, but this wasn’t war. Hunting was a game of precision—to me, it was a game of precision and patience. You took your aim, you ensured that your aim was as good as it could be to get to that one vital spot that would get it down the fastest and then you took your shot.

Too many arrows into an animal at once would just lead to that animal bleeding out most of the time and that attracted predators like nobody’s business. I could never take part in the group shooting and I was only ever brought in twice to see it happen. I helped in dragging the thing back home, or as was, I helped in carrying the piece I was handed once it was chopped down, but I never shot at it. They already were doing that just fine on their own.

I’m not trying to brag but I feel as though that the hunters in our community were lacking. As though somehow, they hadn’t really been taught to do their job the way they should. They hadn’t been trained to perfect their aim and kill quickly. None of them ever managed a killing shot on the first try. At least, of the few times I was around with them and maybe that’s why I feel that way. I don’t know if there were others with the hunting parties while I wasn’t invited, after all.

But one hunter more or less in a party when the vast majority were such terrible archers wouldn’t change a thing in the long run. It made me wonder just how well we were managing to survive but then I also remembered that meat was fairly uncommon, we survived a lot on nuts, fruits, vegetables, and fish more than anything else and I was never asked to join the fishermen, especially since they had to go such a long way to get to the water of the fishing spot.

I still go out to the range every so often. It keeps me sharp. I know I could possibly go out to hunt and bring food back for myself and even maybe Zacc, but I was never a hunter, not in that sense. I was his protector and I have no desire to mutter to myself about how these preys have to have a passing thought about their luck as I lower my bow without shooting my arrow. That’s a foolish way of going about things and I want none of it.

I go to the range, and it’s interesting to briefly talk with the others who also come in. It’s interesting to exchange tips and tricks and to learn just how differently we all think about this sport of ours—it is a sport at this point. I don’t need my knowledge to keep myself safe, but I’ll never just stop; this is part of who I am, and I am just right the way I am.

Final Word Count: 794

You’re not allowed to make fun of me. Not when you fell for the same thing not even five minutes before I did.

Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – Family Values
Current Date: May 2, 2023

Character: Silvanus Thorn
Race: Human
Age: 35
Current residence: Skaneateles, New York
 

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Something is unsettling about seeing kids in our little hospital. Not when they’re visitors, that, in itself, isn’t a bad thing; it means they’re around for someone else. This is more about the rare times when the new patients who come in are kids. They can be teens, they can be young adults; our patients could be of any age at all but the kids get to me the most.

I’m not even sure why if I’m being honest. I don’t know that I had kids of my own before I enrolled and got sent out there. I could ask Liam about it, he claims we worked together for years so I must have opened up to him about these things but in a way, I really don’t think I’ve had kids of my own before it all. So, I think it’s just some sort of basic instinct thing that makes it so I feel somewhat distraught when kids enter the hospital for something other than a visit.

Though the two kids that came in a few hours ago weren’t in for anything drastic. According to their files, they weren’t exactly kids, as they were teens—one thirteen, the other fourteen if I had to assume since I only had info on the one that we treated—but it still worried me a bit. That worry was possibly somewhat over the top as the thirteen-year-old was treated for a twisted ankle and little more. Not that I fussed to no end over them as they came in.

One thing I’ve realized is that I internalize stuff a lot still. I talk about it once we’re off work and I’ve started trying to keep a journal, but I still don’t talk about everything. There are things that I keep inside until I sort of semi-forget about it and then, something will remind me of that thing, and it’ll come roaring right back up and just, during these times, I’m a mess.

So, after I’d settled the kid and their parent in a room and I’d taken care of the basic stuff, I went to get the doc on duty—not always my partner at that point and I’ve made my peace with this—and I went on my way. During our lunch break, I did talk to Gethen about how I felt when I’d seen the kids coming in. It’s like an automatic response from me; I don’t know if I can help it.

Something that I feel might have helped the situation, however, was how the hurt kiddo told their friend—they could have been related but they looked so different from one another that I didn’t assume—that they had no right to make fun of them. Not when they’d fallen for the same thing not even five minutes before they had. It made me smile a little. That the kiddo was feeling good enough to joke about things a bit despite the size of their ankle was a comforting thought.

I didn’t get much more of the story, only bits and pieces as the older one of the two, in the waiting room with another adult, was talking about how they’d been climbing through debris in an abandoned farmhouse, and both had gotten spooked by a shadow on the wall that hadn’t been anything more than their own. It just so happened, as I assume, that the one kiddo that did get hurt must have tripped on something after being spooked.

There are times when I wonder if I got into the same kind of mischief as these kids when I was their age. It’s one of those things I’ll honestly never know and while I think I might have felt that it was mighty unfair for a while, I’m fine with that now. I have my life as it is. I have Gethen, Liam is here, and Cit is with us too. We’re more or less the equivalent of a happy family and I don’t know that I could really ask for anything more.

My leg is as good as it’ll ever be and while it’s not great, it’s not so bad if I’m being honest. I mean, I still am a little slower than some of the other nurses but that’s one of those things. The big boss is understanding of my pace, and I still get through all of my assigned tasks and no one—that I’ve heard—has complained about my pace. Some of the patients even seem curious about it when they notice I’m limping some. A few have asked, others have not, and my answer is always honest if kept somewhat vague.

I mean, it’s not as though I can go into full detail now, can I? I don’t know those details myself, not fully. Not that I mind. I’m probably better off not having those details.

Final Word Count: 810

I don’t want to regret this, but I’ll do what I have to.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 3rd Generation
Characters: Silvanus Thorn
Race: Elf – Forest
Age: 44, physically about 25
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
Final Word Count: 763 words
 

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The nightmare hadn’t come in a while. At least, up until April, I think I’d been free of the nightmare for almost two years. That it usually comes about once a year is something I feel grateful for. It used to come much more often than it does now. The nightmare is a mishmash of a lot of things. Finding Tanya’s head on that pike, Zacc getting his leg mauled by that dog, the way that we somehow survived our escape. I still remember the barest little details of that day, even though it has been years upon years now.

The still recurring nightmares, rare as they’ve been, are probably why I still remember all of those little details. I feel as though, in a way, it keeps me humble. It reminds me of the life that was, while we were out there. It reminds me that there are people who are not accepting of those who are different, and it reminds me of how good my life is, here.

I spent years debating whether or not I was going to take him away from that place. I was terrified that we would never find another place to call home. A place where we would have a safe roof over our heads and food in our bellies. I was afraid of the regret that would come if something were to happen to Zacc after we left that place. I just knew that, eventually and sooner rather than later, I would have to leave the place and do so with him at my side.

His eventual hanging because the chief’s favourite concubine somehow had convinced him that Zacc had impregnated her is what forced my hand. I hadn’t really been ready. In a way, I don’t think I ever would have been ready. There always was something coming up and details needed taken care of and taking care of them was never easy. Not without them knowing I was preparing something.

So when we left, it was with nothing but the clothes on our backs.

I don’t know how we made it as far as we did, not after I had failed to take into consideration that the dogs would come after us. Drawing up a link between us came as an innate thing, I couldn’t feel his pain, but I could sense his heartbeat and he could sense mine. Keeping him awake and walking, painful as it was, was the important part. Had he fallen asleep or lost consciousness, the link would have failed, and I think that would have terrified me more than anything else.

I’m still not sure how we made it into Atheria, in the first place. From the roaming I’ve done over the years, the only way into this place is through the gate at the end of the sort of street on which the quads live. I know that we never came in through that area. I would have remembered it. It feels more like we were in the forest one moment, and the next, we’d broken out of the forest, and we were closer to an area that felt like the downtown of a quiet place. The buildings weren’t all stuck together in the way they had been back at the place we’d called home for years.

When the nightmare comes, it shows me fractured scenes of that day and it makes me unable to actually stay still. I always have to leave our bed and find a spot somewhere to pace. Pacing seems to be the only thing that keeps my mind from sinking deeper into the nightmare. After so many years, you would think that I’d get some peace from it all but I have no such luck. It’s all right, though. I mean, once a year isn’t so bad, though this is now twice in the same year, but I caught bits and pieces of a movie they were showing at the amphitheatre, and it had something to do with a rabid dog. It was back on that night when, supposedly in the Old World, they put on costumes and went about, house to house, to get candy.

I can only assume that seeing those scenes in the movie have triggered the dormant memory and drawn it back up to the surface. If it is, I can mostly live with that. I didn’t stay to watch the movie, but I’d been nearby when those scenes started playing out. It’s the only thing I can think of, that would explain the surfacing of the nightmare.

You’re more than ordinary. I wish you could see what I can.

 
Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – Family Values
Characters: Silvanus Thorn
Race: Human
Age: 33
Current residence: Skaneateles, New York
Final Word Count: 773 words
 

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One thing I have learned to accept—besides my lack of memories—is that you can only push so far. Trying to push harder and harder will not yield any results. The other thing I’ve come to accept, and that I did have to learn again, is that no matter how ordinary you think you might be, there will always be someone out there willing to point out all of those little things you’ve done that truly count as extraordinary.

It might not be much, those things. It could be just holding the door open for someone. Helping an elderly person cross a busy street. Putting trash in the bin. I think that we all can achieve some sort of personal greatness, so long as we try to be a good person. I mean, it doesn’t take much for someone to do one good deed. Not that everyone sees it that way but even though I don’t remember the horrors that led me to where I am now, I’ve seen plenty of it to know that horror is very present in everyday life and all it takes really is a small action.

You don’t have to try and change the world. Unless you have money to spare and enough influence, I don’t think that you’d manage much of anything and even with these two things, there are just so many people out there and they all are so different that I can’t imagine how much of anything would get achieved through it all. Maybe that’s just me, though.

We had a couple come in recently, the husband was devastated because his wife only had a few days left, at most. The cancer that had taken hold of her was aggressive and in whatever stage it was at that made it an impossibility to survive. I know how to help most patients that come in, but my knowledge only goes so far. I’m no doctor. All I know is that she was in the final stage of whatever it was that was eating away at her and it showed.

He was at her side constantly for the four days they stayed with us. I know they were here, in our small community hospital instead of a bigger, higher technology place because she’d only been brought in for pain management. She’d been at home for the last however many months it had been but when she and her husband came in, her pain levels just couldn’t be touched by what they had at home and so she agreed to spend her final few days with us.

They did set them up in a room with a single bedroom, it was a corner room with a view of the landscape out there and I think it wasn’t such a bad room to be in. It wasn’t home, but if it made those last few days of hers manageable and with as little pain as possible, I think it was all right.

I did check in on them once or twice a day, I brought in some food—mostly for him—and just checked her medication but that was the extent of my visits to her room.

On her last morning, when I came in, she was telling him, in that soft, breathy, and tired voice of hers that he was so much more than ordinary, and she wished he could see it. I set down the few things I’d brought in and after doing my check-up I left them to their final discussion but I’m sure she went on to tell him about all of the things he’d probably done for her over the years to help her and yes, I can see why she would think him extraordinary. They weren’t young, this couple. I know they’d been married for decades at this point and, honestly, I sort of want this for my life. I want to be with Geth until we’re both so old that we can look back fondly on our lives and enjoy our well-deserved rest.

She passed away just a few hours after I’d been in her room and her husband slipped away in his sleep that very same night, or so I’ve heard. I’m well aware—something more that I’ve learned—that you can die from a broken heart. I figure that this was possibly the reason why he drifted off in his sleep. He’d looked healthy enough when he’d come in with his wife if heartbroken about her imminent departure from our world.

At this point, I just like to believe that they’re in a better place.

I’m doing everything I was told I couldn’t, because that is true rebellion.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 3rd Generation
Characters: Silvanus Thorn
Race: Elf – Forest
Age: 44, physically about 25
Final Word Count: 707 words
 

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The chief had a daughter. She was, at most, a year or two younger than Zacc. I still remember her because of how she used to act. I wasn’t the one who had to deal with her and, trust me, I was grateful for that much. She was such a little hellion. Not that I knew what the term was, not until I came to this place. She was desperate for her father to pay attention to her, but he was always just too busy paying attention to everyone else and making sure that we—they—never went hungry.

I recall talking to the guy who was essentially in charge of keeping up with her and he told me that she’d once threatened to cut off his nuts and feed them to him if he didn’t just let her do whatever she wanted. It made me grin but only because I knew it was an empty threat. These two were like that ‘secret’ couple everyone knows about, but no one talks about. Her father was probably the only one who didn’t know about it.

He learned early on that telling her she couldn’t do something would result in her doing exactly that very thing just to spite him. ‘That’s true rebellion,’ I remember him mimicking her with an amused and clearly infatuated smile on his lips, ‘doing everything I’m told not to.’

So, he learned to use some sort of reverse psychology or whatever they want to call it on her. He’d tell her she should totally be doing these things and, surprisingly, most of the time it actually worked.

Now, she wasn’t the brightest candle in the lot. She was pretty and she wanted attention, but she was also a bit of an idiot and she was just flat out shallow. That might be why they got along so well together in the long run.

Zacc would whine and huff and bitch whenever she was in the same room as him. She was a distraction to his practising, not that he’s ever needed it and even now, I’m sure he has no need for practising. I’m sure that if I were to just utter her name near him, he’d start complaining all over again.

I’m not going to lie, now and again, when I needed him to focus on something other than what was bothering him on a particular day, I’d lie and state I’d seen her coming our way and that’d get him just changing course, so to speak. He’d pretty much instantly stop whining about whatever had bothered him and he was then complaining about having to deal with her.

Did I mention that she possibly had the biggest crush possible on him and the only reason she left him be—at least physically—was because I was around? She knew I wasn’t someone to be messed with. Her so-called guard might have been a big softy who’d somehow found the means of making her listen to him by telling her to not do things she should be doing, but I wasn’t, and her behaviour wasn’t something I let slip, not when it concerned Zacc since he was my primary concern.

I lost track of her a year or so before we left. I’m honestly not sure what happened to her. Both her and the not-quite guard keeping track of her. I wonder if her father didn’t just finally send her off to a nearby tribe or something. I wouldn’t have put it past her to use her as an asset of sorts for those that just weren’t interested in a simple but beautiful dance.

Zacc might know, he didn’t have as much contact with the others as I did but he still had his little gossip ring going on. I don’t know that I want to bother asking him, though. It’s just been so long at this point; I’m not even sure why she surfaced in my memories. It might have had something to do with the dream I had—that same but so rare nightmare anymore—but I just can’t pinpoint if it might have been or not. Not that it’s overly important, not really. It’s one of those things.

Are you always this prone to bad luck and violence? If so, that’s kind of sad.

 
Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – Family Values
Characters: Silvanus Thorn
Race: Human
Age: 32
Final Word Count: 690 words
 

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We’ve been seeing more of one particular guy in the hospital recently than just about anyone else. This is a small community, it’s borderline rural and it suits me just fine. It does mean that it can get quiet at times but it’s never really ‘dead’, so to speak. We’re on the edge of several other communities and we’re a bit of a central point for all of them so it’s rare that the place is empty. I honestly don’t think it’s ever been without its new intake since I’ve been here.

Now, over the last couple of months, there has been this one guy whose name I can’t really share because of the whole medical confidentiality thing, but let’s call him ‘Ted’; Ted has come to us with one wound or another requiring medical attention at least every other day at this point. Once a week or so, he would come in, we’d patch him up and the police would be picking him up once we were done with him. It left me to wonder just what was going on with this guy.

I mean, not that it’s any of my business but it seems sort of sad if he’s just this prone to bad luck and violence that he’s here as often and then being picked up by the cops too. It makes no sense and it just doesn’t feel right but, again, it’s not really my place to poke and prod about these things but it just makes me wonder.

Can I do that? Can I wonder about just what it is this guy is doing that he ends up showing up to be taken care of us with cuts, bruises and who knows what else? He almost looks like a guy in a bad relationship—I mean, it’s not unheard of that women will beat men too in relationships. I’ve seen my share of that while I’ve been here and it’s not all that unheard of. It’s not as openly discussed because most people still seem to think that, somehow, domestic violence is only ever possible to come from the man in the relationship but let me tell you, I’ve seen men come in bruised and battered from an angry wife.

Why do people even do that? There’s just so much violence going on in this world that there have been days when I’ve been weirdly glad to not have to work so I don’t have to think about any of it. On those days, I don’t turn on the television, I don’t turn on the radio beyond one music station that rarely talks about the news, I don’t read the newspaper. I just relax at home and don’t think about the outside world.

I see enough of what the world can do to someone while I’m at the hospital. Mind you, I’m not complaining about the horrors of my job; even if I don’t have my memories back from my life before this, I know that war is even worse than the horror I might see in this hospital and just seeing the marks that left on Liam is enough to remind me that there are things that are far worse than what I’ve seen in this hospital.

It makes me glad that I’m here, that I’m alive. I survived. I might limp and my life might be a blank from before the time I came home but I have a good life. I have a good significant other, I cherish him as he cherishes me; I have a roof over my head and three meals a day; I am alive and in a good place. I can’t say the same for everyone else out there and I suppose that might also be one of the reasons why I can appreciate this job, no matter the ugly things I see. I feel like it gives me a sense of purpose to help the people who come through our little world. It might not be much compared to what some others are doing but I’m of the mindset that I’ve done my part and that’s enough.

Now, that’s a bonus.

Timeline/World: Atheria – 3rd Generation
Characters: Silvanus Thorn
Race: Elf – Forest
Age: 42, physically about 25
Final Word Count: 642 words
 

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I wish I could let go of the past. I wish I could leave it all behind but it has shaped me into who I am; this past and the knowledge I have from it are the reason why we’ve survived our escape all those years ago. I’m pretty certain that if they hadn’t taught me all they did, I wouldn’t have managed to keep him safe until we got to those gates. Then again, I probably wouldn’t even have seen half as much as I did at his side and I wouldn’t have tried escaping, either.

That’s not to say that my life there was void of wonders or perfect. It was a routine, I got up, I hunted the rare times they would tell me to, but otherwise, I was there to keep him safe. It was my one and only proper duty. He was the one big asset to the place. He was their bait to draw in other people. He was the dancer everyone wanted to see and the dancer some thought they could get more out, thinking they would deserve a little ‘bonus’ after boring talk of area limits, hunting grounds and partnerships.

I wasn’t there for most of those discussions, and usually, neither was he during the more heated parts, but he was there for most of those hours during which the ‘important people’ discussed. He was partially distracting them with his dancing, the sway of his hips, the sultry look in his eyes. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that Zacc is gorgeous but he’s also not my type and I grew up around him, he’s like a slightly annoying brother to me, I’m not interested.

A few times, though, I’d had to be called in to escort our visitors back to the edge of our village because they’d brought up the possibility of a little bonus with the pretty dancer, something to seal the deals, as they were. Man, those moments were the fastest deal breakers you ever could have heard of. These people were idiots but I think it amused Zacc when it happened, at least, when it was clear that the old chief and the others would say no.

I do remember that a few times, when Zacc had misbehaved in some way, they actually did threaten to leave him with our next visitors for them to do what they wanted with him so he would learn his lesson but they never took it that far. When the next group came in to discuss, it was all business, never pleasure and Zacc was safe for another day.

We had to escape when we did, though. The things they were talking about doing, at that point, were things I couldn’t let pass and while I still was just a hunter and protector to them, they didn’t expect me to be the one they had to worry about, as far as their precious little dancer was concerned.

So getting out of the village limits hadn’t been too hard, in a way, but getting away once they realized what had happened, that was more difficult, it was terrifying and the nightmares still haunt me though they’re not as common as they used to be.

I guess that the saying that time heals all wounds is fitting enough for this situation. It’s taking a lot of time, but wounds of all types have healed over that time, just not quite all of them yet but it’s getting there and if the nightmares ever truly, absolutely and completely so stop, I think I’ll be heaving the biggest sigh of my life because that will be one part of my life finally left behind that I wish I could have done years ago. Still, I will take progress when progress is offered to me.

I thought I taught you differently.

 
Timeline/World: Alternate Earth – Birds of a Feather
Characters: Silvanus Thorn
Race: Human
Age: 31
Final Word Count: 706 words
 

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It took a year for several written complaints to reach whoever was in charge and from there, six more months before a change occurred. It took eighteen months. Eighteen. The last eight of them were pure hell and I actually spent three of those at home because I could no longer walk. How can anyone get away with pushing their staff beyond what they can do?

From the moment we moved and I actually got this job alongside Gethen, it was fine. The person in charge knew about my limitations and I still did all of my work within the set time frame and there never had been a single complaint about my behaviour. I was a little slower to get around than other nurses but when you come back from your assignment with a leg in as bad a shape as mine was, it’s just one of those things.

I had to be forced off of work. I would have kept going, useless leg or not, because I’m that way. I had to be threatened with losing my job to make me take the time off to heal back up and it came from higher up than the current boss I had at the time. He wouldn’t have let me off.

Even once I was back; it was still a little difficult. During the three months, there was plenty of careful physical rehabilitation, and it’s during that time that I met up with more new faces and people I saw more than once since they were dealing with rehab much in the same way I was.

In a way, I’m thankful I didn’t end up having to deal with that particular therapist because he reminded me of the current boss. I can understand that he meant well but he still came across as a pushy asshole and the person he was pushing this hard was little more than a kid. She couldn’t have been much more than fourteen or fifteen and every time I opened my mouth to put the jerk back in his place, my own therapist would drag my attention back to the current exercise we’d been doing and would gently remind me that it was all right. That he was a little rough around the edges but the girl refused to do anything otherwise.

So I let it be. It still frustrated me to hear him sound just so exasperated with her most of the time, repeating time and again that he thought he’d taught her differently. That he was disappointed, that he had expected better. That’s not how physical therapy should work. You’re supposed to be supportive of your patient but I suppose it still really wasn’t my place and watching her make progress, I suppose he knew what he was doing.

I’ve been back to work for about a year now. It wasn’t easy at first because, despite the therapy, I still struggled a little to finish my day but the new boss was far more understanding and there still were no complaints by any of the guests or the other staff. I was even told that several of the people I usually had been taking care of had asked about my whereabouts while I was gone. You have no idea how good that feels.

As someone whose memories of his past up until he woke up in that military hospital are still a blank, feeling wanted and needed by the people I’m there to help is something that I cherish. It might sound like a weird sort of thing but it’s just me. I don’t know anything about my past; I don’t think it will ever come back. All I know is that I was part of an elite team and that I nearly died. That of the group of us—I think we were eight—only two of us survived. Liam has severe PTSD to contend with and I have my leg. I’m fine with that. It’s not great, some days are worse than others, but I need to feel like a useful member of society otherwise I might just go crazy. So I’ll take mild pain as I finish my day over being forced to stop altogether.

It’s near us right now.

Timeline/World: Atheria 3rd Generation
Characters: Silvanus Thorn
Race: Elf – Forest
Age: 40, physically about 25
Final Word Count: 627 words

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I can’t really tell whether it’s a blessing or a curse that I can remember down to the smallest detail, the day of our escape. It’s been thirteen and a half years already but it still feels like yesterday on some mornings when nightmares creep their way up my spine and remind me of the past we have. Of the past we’ve shared, of the life that was before this haven that keeps us safe. I also find it somewhat amusing to call this place haven, considering Haven’s presence here as well. I never expected to find him here and that alone made the journey worth it. Discovering that I had the ability to love and cherish someone beyond a basic must-protect level has made it even more worth it, in the long run.

It was dark when we left. It was the only time you weren’t kept busy and the only time I could manage to slip away from my post. I’m not even sure when they expected me to sleep with all they gave me to do when you were safe and sound under your most likely more than comfortable blankets.

The trip was not without harm, of course. I know it could have been worse but I wish it could have been better. I can still feel the slight tremble of fear as it courses through me, the fear that took me in its grasp every time I would hear leaves rustling in the near and far distance.

I remember stopping us when we were nearly there—I wasn’t sure what ‘there’ was but there was a pull and I knew you could feel it too. We were so close I could almost taste it but the rustling coming our way was less than comforting, it was loud, stompy. I’m aware that stompy isn’t a word but that is how it felt to me. Like some huge beast was stomping their way towards us. I hid us, best I could. String taut on my bow, arm steady as could be, breath coming in slowly and steadily despite the fact that my heart was going a mile a minute—an expression I hadn’t known before coming to live here. The beast, for that is what it was, really, stomped on along. It went right by us, not even minding us despite how close it was to us. I could have reached out and touched its hide. It left a mess in its path as it went and I don’t know if it was blind, or if it just couldn’t smell us or sense us. I really just don’t know.

I also seriously don’t care anymore but that is the one moment that keeps on coming back to haunt some of my rare nights. In these dreams, the beast, bigger than I am tall, turns its head towards us, those large tusks just there, the ends not so pointed but still looking like they could gore us and it starts running back towards us. On some nights when I have the dream, I manage to save you but get impaled, in others it is the other way around and the ache in my chest at failing my one mission in life is so heavy that I wish it would take me. On very rare occasions, I manage to save us both… or get us both killed.

The ending is always the same: before I can really see more of the beast as it finally goes away, I wake up.

The nightmares are terrifying. They are rare and for that I am glad. Curling up to my one, my lover, my only, helps push the memories away, at the very least and I’m glad for that.

You wanted me to be something more than I was capable of. Didn’t you see what that was doing to me?

Timeline/World: Alternate Earth – Birds of a Feather
Characters: Silvanus Thorn
Race: Human
Age: 29
Final Word Count: 531 words

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Working in a small almost village hospital was, in no way, any easier than working in an army hospital. There were just as many people, they were just as demanding and they were just as frustrating. Of course, this was a generalization but it was pretty spot on, as far as I could tell at this point. We had been working in this hospital for a while but the bosses had changed a few months back and so had the one person I had to report to.

I’d wanted nothing more but to keep on working with Gethen but that was the one thing about this hospital, I didn’t get a say and he didn’t really either. At least we had near identical shifts so we could drive in together and go back home together, we had our days off mostly together and I didn’t want anything other than that, it was good enough for me, even if my leg ached in a bad way after some shifts that were rougher than others.

I don’t know who this guy thinks he is or where he thinks he is. He’s trying to run this hospital with an efficiency that’s not really possible and for months now he’s been giving me little slips because I somehow don’t finish all my rounds and check-ups on time. I’d like to see him try to do his rounds and not give the patients an extra minute or two of his time because it just brings an extra smile on their lips.

He can’t fire me, not over these things because my work still gets done in a timely manner and no one’s complained about anything. It’s the fact that he keeps on pushing me though like he doesn’t realize that I’m not superman and I have my limits and my limits are very much in tune with my leg. It has been doing so much better since I was first brought back in to our side of the world but lately, with all the pushing he’s doing, I feel like on some days I shouldn’t be able to walk at all it hurts so much.

I’ve told Geth, it’s hard to hide that from him because there are some mornings when I get up and my leg has locked up completely on me and I’m struggling to get moving because I know I need to. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do about this problem. I don’t want us to move, this place is perfect and I can’t remember last I saw Liam genuinely smiling the way he is now. We’ve filled in complaints but somehow I don’t know that anyone is really listening to us about it, at least not that I can tell.

If the guy lands me in a wheelchair when I wasn’t even really from the start, not in the way it looks like I’m heading, I’m going to be doing more than just writing a complaint about it and I’ll take things into my own hands. Sure, it’d likely be a crime but I refuse to be turned into a cripple because the guy has no sense of limits.