Looking for a Story

A scream echoes through the dark halls of Ravenshade Manor. The lights flicker back to life, letting darkness hide no longer. Lord Ravenshade calls for his dinner guests to come to the foyer. Crimson Drake, Saffron Bloom, Jade Glass, Indigo West, Dr. Mauve, and Alabaster Finch make their way to the foyer. “Where is Lady Ravenshade?” None of the guests react, each one looking at the other, “Where is my wife?” he asks again, this time more desperate, still no one moves. Rage fills Lord Ravenshapes' mind, “I swear if one of you killed my darling sweet Elodie, I will destroy you!” “How do we know you didn’t kill her yourself and wanted to add it to your list of blackmail! We all know you have dirt on us, and this dinner is just another way to keep us quiet.” Saffron Bloom shouts at the man who kept her on edge for years, threatening to expose her more deadly botanical interests. “How do I know you didn’t kill her when you meant to kill me?” Lord Ravenshade stares down the group that he has squeezed more money out of than he ever thought possible. Crimson Drake, with the charisma of the stage performer he is, approaches Lord Ravenshade, “Awfully convenient to have a power outage with all your enemies in the house, maybe you planned this…” Lord Ravenshade hits the security button, “There, no one gets in or out till the police arrive, if we can solve her murder before they arrive.” He pauses pulling a vanilla folder out of his breast pocket, I won’t give this to the police, see none of you have proof I’m blackmailing you, and who are the police going to believe, the grief stricken husband who discovered all his friends had underhanded dealings, or the people who they just got handed enough evidence for to lock away for years.” He stands tall, “Now get to work.” *** The last thing I remember hearing is my own scream, feeling a sharp pain and the world going dark, then I awoke in my bedroom, looking over my own body, had I know I was going to die today, I would not worn the black party dress that Ulrich loves so much, I would have worn my sunset orange one. Wait- Why am I dead? And why am I in our bedroom? I was helping Ulrich host his yearly dinner party with his friends. I wouldn’t have come to the bedroom, not with guests around. Suddenly, Ulrich bursts in and runs to my lifeless body, “Elodie, my love! I found you!” He tries to bring me back, but I fear it’s too late. “I’m so sorry this is all my fault! One of them did this to get to me! I just know it, I will make them pay.” His tears fell, and I can’t remember the last time I saw him cry. I float next to him and rest a hand on his shoulder, “Oh, Ulrich, we were supposed to gro-” I stop and back away, “Wait, are you saying one of your friends killed me on purpose? But why!” He doesn’t react to my voice, “Right, I guess I’m a ghost, no more talking with the human world.” I float back and forth, trying to think of what to do. That’s when I notice the bars on the window, he’s activated the security system, which means everyone must be downstairs. I float through the floor and find my guests arguing in the foyer. “All of us had plans to rid ourselves of the blackmailer, right?” Dr. Mauve leans against the wall as if this isn’t a surprise, who, if I remember right, Ulrich was investing in his newest experiment. Who is this blackmailer they speak of? “Well, duh, he’s so totally harshing the mellow of our business.” Jade Glass tosses a crystal in the air one-handed, while the other hand stays in her pocket. Ulrich gave her a business loan for her studio. “So, who killed Lady Ravenshade? And why, it’s not like she knew what he was up to.” Alabaster Finch looks at his old pocket watch, Alabaster is Ulrich’s oldest friend. I met them in college, they were practically brothers. Wait, is my husband the blackmailer? “Do we really buy that naive housewife act, though? There's no way she’s that oblivious.” Crimson Drake, who adjusts his suit, brushing off dirt or maybe dust. He used to be a magician. Ulrich said he was helping him with some legal trouble, but I’m starting to wonder how much of my husband's stories were true. “And killing the wife only makes our lives harder - So out with it, whoever it was!” Indigo West, a world-renowned critic, shouts from the center of the room, the group starts arguing all at once, and I have a hard time hearing and keeping their stories straight. “Enough with the arguing!” Saffron Bloom yells at everyone. “We aren’t going to get anywhere with this! One at a time, where were you when the power went out, and where was the last place you saw the lady? Crimson, you were the first one here, so you start.” I try to think about how the night played out, but my memory is fuzzy. I hover as they have a much quieter conversation and try to place the night back in order. Crimson sighs, “Lady Ravenshade greeted me at the door, Lord Ravenshade showed me to The Music Room, showing his newest investment, a grand piano, asked me to play a few notes for him, and I must admit I got lost in the music and only stopped playing when the power went out.” I do remember hearing music, but I don’t recall being in The Music Room. “I showed up next, along with Jade, Indigo, Lady Ravenshade took us to The Tea Salon, said she had a new blend of tea we just had to try, being the botanist, I couldn’t wait to see what I could identify. After we had the tea, Lady Ravenshade, Jade and Indigo left, heading out to The Conservatory Ballroom. I planned on joining them but had a tea I wanted to mix up first.” Saffron explains. I did remember showing off the tea blend I wanted Saffron's opinion on it. “Once we were in The Conservatory Ballroom, I caught sight of a new painting in The Rosewood Library. So I excused myself to get a closer look. I saw Alabaster leaving the library as I came in the other door.” Indigo looks over at Alabaster. That’s right, I intended to get her opinion of that painting. Jade, however, starts talking, “I was trying to convince Lady Ravenshade to let me host a class, but well, then Lord Ravenshade interrupted, asking his wife where he left his-” She pauses, “I don’t remember what he said, but whatever it was, she giggled and hollard back at him something about the study, and he shot me a look so I dropped the subject of a class and headed to The Garden Gallery. I’m not sure where she went after that. The power went out pretty quickly.” I do remember Ulrich interrupting us, but I can’t remember why. “I arrived next.” Mauve starts, “Well, Alabaster was pretty much on my heels; he barely said hello to our gracious host. He beelined straight for The Rosewood Library. I listened to Crimson’s piano playing with Lord Ravenshade for a moment, but then he seemed to grow bored with the music, so he led me to The Garden Gallery. he seemed quite pleased with the work Lady Ravenshade had gotten done on it this year. He made small talk, then looked at his pocket watch and realized how close dinner was and that he didn’t have his speech, so he took off. Oh, and I do remember seeing Jade enter the garden. ” His speech! He’d asked me where his note cards were. “Guess that just leaves me, I was on a mission to find some documents that proved his father left part of the family business to me, so first I check The Rosewood Library, when I couldn’t find any proof, I headed to The South Wing Study, where Ulrich would have found me when he was looking for his speach. But the power went out, so I just hid behind a chair till he left.” Alabaster rubs the back of his neck. Why would Ulrich's father share the business with him… “So wait. If everyone is telling the truth, that means she was in The Conservatory Ballroom alone.” Saffron states, “Someone has to be lying…” Once again, they start arguing, only this time they all fan out, determined to figure out who did it and how. I sit in the quiet, shocked by all I’ve learned, I glance at a portrait of us in the entryway, “You lied to me. Our entire life together is built on a lie!” I didn’t know ghosts could cry, but tears burn in my eyes. “I will solve my own murder!” I take off, starting in The Music Room, I look around, trying to take in anything out of the ordinary. Crimson and Mauve talk near the piano, “There is one thing I remember from the backout, I swear I heard something fall near the window, but nothing looks out of place.” Crimson shakes his head, “Such a shame about the Lady, she was the only good thing about that son of a gun.” “I’ll cheers to that.” Mauve shares his flask with Crimson. I go closer to the window, “Maybe nothing looks out of place to you.” The windows are open and they look out onto The Conservatory Ballroom, explaining why I could hear Crimson's music. I take in the beauty of the trees and hanging lanterns that make up the space, then remember why I am here. I lower myself to the windowsill, nothing looks off at first, but then I see it, a small piece of black fabric. My dress, had I crawled through the window? But why? On the floor near the window, there is a bow to the violin, only the bar is broken in half - my hand goes to my neck, had someone- I shake my head, “Can’t think like that now. I need more.” I move to the The Tea Salon, I worked so hard to make this old sun room a nice place to visit, I make sure to collect dried herbs for tea so people can mix their own blend, on one of the glass tables sit my favourite mug - it’s full of tea, I give the tea a sniff, and scrunch my nose at the smell, it’s unlike any tea I’ve ever made, then Saffron words replay in my mind, I planned on joining them but had a tea i wanted to mix up first. She poisoned the tea, and if Ulrich had walked in and seen my mug with tea in it, he would have stolen a sip or two, then brought it to me- Based on the smell, he wouldn’t have made it to The Conservatory Ballroom. I move on to The Garden Gallery, I can’t bring myself to get to the ballroom just yet. Jade and Saffron stand there talking, “There’s just one thing I don’t get about Alabaster story…” Jade leads against one of the statues. “Yeah, what’s that?” Saffron raises an eyebrow. “He came to the foyer the wrong way to be in the office. The office is off the library, and he came in through the Ballroom doors. Do you think he went through the library and came in the ballroom door just so he didn’t get caught?” Jade shrugs, “It just seems like a lot of work when he could have come out of the library door.” Jade makes a good point, maybe Alabaster was hiding something. I look around the garden, I see the broken pot. I should have cleaned that up before guests arrived. It broke in a storm a few weeks ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to toss it. I look at the pieces again, one is missing. I watch Jade shuffle something behind a statue while Saffron rattles on. I get a closer look, it’s the broken pot… and there's blood on it! Had Jade been the one? Her one hand hasn’t left her pocket. If I could get a look at it, what would I see? I race to the library, ignoring that feeling growing in my heart. The Rosewood Library is my favourite space. Indigo and Alabaster stand looking at the painting, “He got this one from me; his wife wanted more unique art for the library, so I got him this very convincing fake.” Indigo shakes her head, “She deserved the real deal.” “She did.” Alabaster glances back at the office, “Hey, where is the other raven?” He points to the shelf. “The Raven?” Indigo looks over at the shelf. “Elodie had cast-iron bookends that were ravens. And one is missing.” It feels strange to hear my first name out of his mouth, but why did it feel like I heard it recently?” I move around the library looking for my missing bookend. I find it on my little desk, one of my notebooks is out, and pages are torn out, but thier near the back, and one of my pens is shattered by I assume the bookend. Who was writing, and why? I slip into The South Wing Study, this was Ulrich's space, other than the fresh flowers I brought him every week, his office was one of the few rooms I didn’t touch. I walk to his desk, his letter opener is missing; it was a gift from his father when we got married, and it never leaves his office. Maybe Alabaster moved it, he seems to think he is owed something from Ulrich's father. I look around, I ver go past his desk, this is his space after all. In the corner of his office, I find a trap door. “I didn’t know this was here.” I float through the door and follow the path, and at the end, I float through into The Conservatory Ballroom. When I start looking around, I notice that none of the decorations look out of place, except the Decorative Garden Spade we got done up for our wedding, which seems to have been knocked out of its flower pot. And there are a few crumbled balls of paper rolling slightly, I kneel to pick one up and notice a pool of blood. Suddenly, my memory comes in waves, I cry in pain as everything starts spinning. Can you solve the mystery? Join us on June 6th to see if you got it right! Comment your guesses below!

Affinity hides within the walls of her hideout. Hoping everyone stays away. She feels out of control, like her powers may explode any moment. She can't let that happen again. She did so much damage last time. She'd thought being able to hold others' emotions would be a great help, an asset to the superhero team. But everyone wants you to hold their dark emotions. And they never want them back, they get heavy to hold after a while, and emotions will eventually demand to be felt. Affinity is feeling everything today, and she is spent. As she gets older, the more unfair it seems to her that she can't control when she takes people's emotions. "It hardly seems right that the other heroes can give me their bad emotions in battle, and I can't give them up." She squeezes her hands into fists and looks, feels her nails dig into her palm. "I need a release and I need it now." She closes her eyes and tries an exercise that her therapist told her to try. She pictures a grave road and imagines herself running. She tries to feel the wind, the burning in her legs and arms, her lungs desperate for air. She imagines the dirt road ending at a lake. She pictures herself diving into the water, the cold water shocking her system and claiming her, and for a fleeting moment, it worked. As she opens her eyes, she is met by a cloud of dark emotions. Affinity feels so small, tears burn in her eyes. "I can't do this anymore.” She watches as the dark cloud gets closer and gets ready to engulf her. She is out of fight, and maybe it will be better than this. She closes her eyes, maybe she’ll become the villain, and they’ll know what it’s like to carry their own emotions. "Affinity?" The voice sounds familiar, but she's too exhausted to open her eyes. "Affinity!" The voice is shrill and gets closer. A hand is placed on her shoulder, "Affinity?" the voice was softer now. "Can you hear me? It's me, Cinder Light. Your best friend!” Cinder Light tries to make it sound like she was joking, “We were supposed to go to the meeting together, remember? When you weren't on time, I assumed you got caught up in something. But then, you no-showed, which is very unlike you. And sorry, I kinda fried your control panel to get into your to get in here. Tho you didn't answer when I called, and I assumed something was wrong. So it’s really your fault.” She chuckles, then her tone drops, “I thought maybe something had malfunctioned, or you were hurt, but then I came in and saw you like this.” Affinity forces her eyes open and feels her body tighten, tense as if she might snap. She can't move. The darkness is getting closer. How can Cinder not see it? “Affinity? What are you looking at so intensely?” Cinder stands up between her and the black cloud. Affinity watches her face where the black cloud should be, “There's nothing there. Are you strategizing? Is this how you get rid of the negative emotions? Because I've always wondered how you do that. You just seem to take them all the time. I assumed you had some sort of way of getting rid of them.” Cinder sits down facing her, taking her hands and hers, the warmth from Cinder's hands. Slowly brings Affinity back to reality. She blinks. Still stiff. Not able to move, not able to talk. “Are you having a bad day again?” Cinder asks quietly. “You're supposed to call me when those happen. You know that I can't help you if I don't know?” Cinder waits for an answer, when Affinity barely moves, “You can't talk yet.” Affinity blinks twice. They're signed for no. “Okay, I'll ask you, yes, or no questions that until you find your voice, okay?” Cinder gets comfortable. Affinity blinks once. “Are you getting rid of the bad emotions you take for people?” Two blinks. “Okay – Can you? Get rid of them, that is, I don't think I've ever asked you that before.” She blinks twice again. “You can't?! What do you do with them?!” Her voice echoes through the hideouts. Affinity stares at her. “Right. Sorry, yes or no questions. You just hold on to them?” Cinder's voice is tense. One blink. “That would be so much to carry. Why have you never told me this?” Her voice echoes again. Affinity stares at her again, willing her voice to return. “Alright, um, did you try to tell me before?” Two blanks. “Were you afraid I couldn't handle it?” One blink? “Affinity.” Cinder's voice is soft. She pulls her friend into a hug. Using her powers to warm them both. “I'm your friend. Both inside and outside of costume. You could tell me. Don’t you have control over when you take our emotions? Cuz, couldn't you just take less?” “I can't control it. It just happens. Affinity's voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “I didn't know how to tell the team I didn't want to let them down. Everyone appreciates not dealing with their fears or their disappointments – the more negative sides of being a hero. And I thought I could learn to control it, but nobody ever wants to take them back. I think you have to willingly take it.” “Do you take my emotions?” Cinder asked softly. “Not on purpose. But yeah. Both inside out outside of the costume.” “Is that why you started seeing a counsellor?” Cinder moves to sit beside her instead of across. “Yeah. It’s why I started working out – running helps. But running burns, and it got to the point where I couldn’t outrun the feeling anymore. I tried drawing, painting, blasting music, and dancing. I tried all of that. None of it worked. Just got to be too much about to be so dark. I didn't know how to get rid of it.” Affinity shugs as if this is a normal thing. “Your glass bottle can only hold so much Affinity,” Cinder says with a smile. “Glass bottle?” Affinity tilts her head. “Yeah, my mom taught me when I was a kid that there's only so much you can shove into a glass bottle before it shatters. Every time your glass bottle shatters, the new one is a little bit smaller. Until eventually everything will set you off. I had quite a temper when I was a kid. Remember?” Affinity laughs, feeling lighter. “I do remember. I thought it got better because I was taking on more of your emotions against my will, I might add. People feeling their own feelings is important. I don't always mean to carry it for others, but sometimes I can't help it.” She holds out her hands. “Is that how you talk about it with your counsellor?” Cinder asks gently. “Yeah, I mean, I don't tell the superhero bit. But I talk about how I have a hard time letting other people carry their own emotions, and that I take them on. And I don't know how to just let people feel.” “So what was happening when I walked in? Something to do with all this?” Cinder takes her hand, and Affinity leans on her shoulder. “I’m not sure, to be honest. There was a big black cloud. I thought it was going to consume me alive, and I wasn't sure what would happen on the other end, but I was too tired. So tired.” Affinity's eyes feel heavy, and she fights off the sleep, trying to claim her. “Maybe you need to take a break from the hero a bit.” Cinder offers. “But I love helping the victims. I love giving the victims the ability to stand up for themselves, and their feelings don’t linger; it's like when they win. I don't hang on to that. It's the other Heroes that are the problem. Those who don't want to deal with the negative sides of being a hero. Even you do it sometimes. Everybody talks to me because I'm Affinity and I can handle everybody's emotions. I can take it and I’ll listen and I’ll take it for them.” She lets out a heavy sigh, “But I'm exhausted of holding everyone's emotions and nobody wanting to hear mine.” “Affinity – I would have listened to you.” Cinder leans her head on Affinity’s. “I know, but you have so much going on in your own life. How would you have space for mine?” Affinity starts drawing on Cinder's knee like she did when they were teens. “Girl! We're superheroes and best friends in and out of costume. It's my job to take care of you. Just because I have a lot going on in my life doesn't mean I don't have room on my plate for a little bit of yours, too.” Affinity looks at her best friend, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kept this from you.” “Just don't do it again. Okay? I can't have my best friend turning over to the dark side because everybody else couldn't learn to deal with their own emotions. We should bring this up with the team leader. He needs to know that your power isn’t fully under control, and he can get the team to understand they can’t just unload on you.” Affinity thinks, “Maybe he can get a counsellor to visit Headquarters while we are in costume so everyone could talk freely about their struggles.” “Yeah! That would be great, maybe we can learn some more coupling mechanisms. I remember when you brought up the blinking system when your attacks took away your voice. Wait! Those attacks have been this whole dark emotion thing; you just didn't include that?! “I didn't think I had to.” Affinity chuckles. “I thought you knew. I thought you understood with the whole hero thing. How hard was it?” “I mean yea I understood that, but I thought you were okay… Being a hero is hard, sure, but I didn't realize you were carrying the entire City's negative emotions on your back!” Cinder lets out an exasperated sigh. “Not the entire cities. Just our teams.” Affinity corrects. “That's not any better.” Cinder laughs. “Come on, we're gonna go. We're gonna get out of the our superhero costumes. We're gonna go get some ice cream, and then tomorrow morning you're talking to our leader. I will come with you, and we are getting a better system in place because it is not your job to carry our team's emotions on your back. The team needs to know that you are not as in control of your powers as everyone thinks you are. This is not your job. And together, we're going to make sure that you get the help you need. No matter what.” Cinder stands up, holding out her hand. Affinity takes her hand, “Thanks for finding me, Cinder.” “Hey, what else are best friends for? If not to help, if not, to save you from yourself.” Cinder helps Affinity up. And together the two young women leave, dressed as regular civilians, heading for the ice cream shop. And for a little while, Affinity forgot all about the Dark Cloud that's sitting just beneath the surface.

The only word for all this was chaos. Not that Faith couldn't handle a little mayhem—she'd been working at this shop since high school. But she'd never seen it like this before. People filed out the door. Sure, it was the start of PSL season, but it had never been THIS bad before. Faith blamed the chain coffee shop that opened last summer down the street for the reason everyone wanted her little coffee shop’s take on the classic. Finally, the rush of high school girls and middle-aged moms died down an older woman with salt and pepper hair slowly made her way to the front of the shop. “My, that was a rush, I waited in my car for 20 minutes rather than waiting in that ridiculous line.” she chuckles. “Yes, it's the first day of pumpkin spice latte season. And everyone wants a taste." Faith shrugs. “Well, if it makes people wait in a line that long, I will happily pass on such things." She smiles, “Can I please just have simple black coffee? With cream and sugar are the side, I find that with the different blends, I never know if I need more cream or sugar.” Faith let out a sigh of relief, a simple coffee order. "Absolutely, are you staying in?” The lady nods, "Find a seat and I'll bring you your coffee.” Faith puts together a coffee tray and finds the lady sitting warm in the sun. “You picked a perfect spot to enjoy the last few days of summer." “Thank you, my dear, I hope you get a break soon, you look like that rush knocked the wind out of you." Faith looks down at her watch, " Oh my, I missed my break." She pondered how close to the end of her shift it was, if a break was even worth it at this point. “I know that face, take your break, even if it's just a short one. No job is worth wasting away at." The woman smiles. “I could use an Iced Caramel Latte… I'll make one for myself and go soak in the sun for a few minutes." Faith nods and heads back to the bar. “Sounds like a sugar bomb of a drink,” the woman chuckles, “But everyone deserves a treat." Stepping outside with her cool drink in hand, she soaked in the warmth of the sun, knowing the cool breeze of fall was on its way. “That lady was right, I did need this.” When Faith returned inside, the woman was bringing her tray to the front, "Oh! Someone could have picked that up for you.” Faith rushed over. “Oh, don't worry about me, dear, I don't mind.” She smiles and hands her a ten-dollar bill. "Oh, I couldn't.” Faith tries to refuse. The woman shrugs and drops it in the top jar. And walks away. "I know she comes in all the time, but for the life of me, I can't remember her name.” “Oh! That's Mrs. J. She used to teach me piano." Hallie, one of the high school students, called from the back. “She comes in once a week, I usually try to serve her. So you've probably never interacted with her.” Faith nodded thoughtfully, “Well, with you in school soon, I'll make sure she gets great service." When school started, Faith wondered if Mrs. J would charge her schedule to see Hallie. But she kept coming in the middle of the afternoon. She got to be so predictable that Faith often had her coffee ready and waiting. "You're too kind to me." Mrs. J would shake her head and smile when Faith met her at her favourite spot. “Just giving wonderful service to one of our regulars." Faith winks. “Say, Hallie mentioned you used to teach piano, so you still take students?" "Not as often as I used to buy, but I don't mind helping a student now and then.” Mrs. J leans forward, “Have you played before?” Faith looks down, "I used to, all the time. My mom taught me, but we had a fight, and I refused to play piano after that, and I tried to play the other day, and it's like my brain forgot.” Mrs. J reached out and took her hand, "I bet a piano player is still inside of you.” Her eyes were soft. "Did you and your mother recover from your fight?” Faith crosses her arms, "For the most part, yeah, we aren't like friends, but I talk to her once a week. But I found playing piano harder than I imagined it to be.” Mrs. J smiles, “I think I can make space in my oh so busy retirement schedule to teach you.” "Thank you, Mrs. J I miss playing." Faith turns to go back to the counter. "I'm always willing to help a student find her muse again. And I doubt it will take that long.” Mrs. H had been correct once the two of them started playing piano; Faith's muscle memory kicked in, and she found the love of music again. But one day, while they’d been practicing a song that Faith's mother had wanted her to learn, and Faith had never been able to get it as a child, and now as a young woman, she was having the same issue. She banged in the keys. "I'm never gonna learn this dumb song!” “Hey," Mrs. J's voice was gentle, “take a breath, it's just a song. No one here is gonna be upset with you." Faith lets out a long, slow sigh. "My mom wanted me to play this song for my grandmother's birthday one year, and she was so upset when I couldn't learn the song.” “Did you stop playing then?” Mrs. J turned and gave her all of her attention. “No, I played for a few years after that, but this song hung over my head.” She fiddled with her hands. “So why learn it now? You've learned other songs that you play beautifully. Why does this song matter now?” Mrs. H left the piano bench and brought two cups of tea.. “Grandma's birthday is this month, and every year I think about trying to learn it.” I thought maybe this year would be the year. Faith drinks the tea and feels the warmth calm her. “Well, not every song is meant for everyone to play. Maybe this song isn't for you to play. And that doesn't make you a failure.” Mrs. H keeps a steady, calm voice. "Are you sure? It always felt like this song was going to haunt me." Faith blinks back tears. “I'm more than sure, why don't you pick a song you'd like to play for your grandma, and we'll learn that one instead? Rewrite the memory.” Mr. H points to the stack of music books she owns. So Faith picked out a new song, and they worked until Faith could play it from memory. Mrs. H had been old enough to be Faith's mother, but between a coffee shop counter and a piano bench, they're very good friends.

Nothing had prepared her for the silence and the darkness of the end of the world. But she'd made a vow, a promise to stand guard until there was nothing left. The explosion had been weeks ago, maybe months. The time had blurred. This Library held all of the knowledge of the Great Land. She'd been chosen to be its guard. Not only did she make sure that those who came looking got the information and found what they needed, she made sure those who shouldn't have it didn't get it. The children called her The Librarian, the adults - the Gaurd of Knowledge. She has done her job well. But then, that day, the explosion, it shook the library to its core. Books fell everywhere, and the world had gone so dark. Birds stopped singing, children stopped playing. Her little border town slowly quited, had people looking for loved ones or out of desperation fled to to larger towns, and villages to see if they could find something. Maybe they'd tried to get to the Capitol? Or where they all in hiding like her? Surely, it was protected. Deborah wasn't so sure. The other guard's messanger birds that had been sending messages back and forth, had stopped coming back. Deborah was starting to think that the birds had become prey for the monstrous beasts that now roamed in the dark. Her own bird had not come back. She was isolated. No one dared darken the doors of the library. Not now. Surely, she couldn't blame them. The answers they were searching for could not be found here. They were in a territory unknown. She hoped and prayed for the sun to break through the darkness, but it seemed as though the explosion had sent the sun out of the sky. One morning, out of pure desperation, or at least what had become her morning, she climbed the highest tower in the library, to open shutters. Hoping that the air was no longer thick with ash. With great effort she pushed them open, and was greeted by the smell of smoke, and a thick fog, but the air felt palatable, so she drank in the fresher air. Then she noticed it: a faint glow piercing through ash-filled fog, it was the sun! She knew it in her heart, she felt its warmth. Maybe the world wasn't ending? But the world she knew had certainly ended. Over the next few days, the sun’s light grew stronger, and as she climbed the tower daily, Deborah saw a world that she did not recognize. Anywhere that wasn't covered in ash had claw marks. There was red staining throughout the streets, she shuddered to think what had happened to those who braved the streets in the darkness. Had they tried to come to her library? It was one of the most secure buildings this close to the border. She'd sounded the alarm, telling them to seek refuge here. But they hadn't come. Maybe they couldn't. Maybe they were afraid. Had the king been behind this? That was almost heresy to say. The King wasn't a good man. Not unlike the prince, she’d met the royal family once. The king had eyes like stone, as if he had no love left in them. His son, however, had eyes like pools that never ended, as if he had a lifetime of love yet to find. She was sure the prince had been a good man, a kind man. If the royal family was still alive, where were they? They’d made visits during war times. Surely, if they were okay, they would have sent out at least the royal hunters to slay those horrid beasts. The royal bird had not come either. Isolated and alone, she wasn't sure anyone was left in the village. She wasn't sure at all. She'd lit the lamp as frequently as she dared. Trying to alert people there was a safe haven here. But no one came. Even with the sun's return, people did not leave their homes. The sun seemed to keep the beasts at bay, but when night fell, she heard the beasts rattling at the door. Leading her to believe no one else was left in the village and now they where trying to get to her. She'd sworn a vow, a promise to never leave the live to leave the library unguarded. It's what she'd been born to do; her father and his father had been gaurds. Just like his mother and her mother and so on, and so on. Her family had been the Libaray guard for generations, hardly ever leaving the walls of the library. Had it not been for the explosion, another guard would have been arriving shortly to allow her time to enter society and find love, to produce an heir to continue to guard the library doors. Maybe that is why the loneliness had been eating away at her. She knew was running out of time. How much longer could she stay? The food reserves were dwindling. And without the other villagers. There was no way she could survive here on her own. She knew she had to leave. Even if it went against everything she knew. She would be entering a world she knew nothing about, and she wasn't convinced the book she'd spent her life reading had enough knowledge to save her. She put the library in as good of a lockdown as she could. She had debated burning them to the ground to protect the knowledge, but if her world sureved, people would need those books. Saying a prayer that the beasts would not destroy the books, she went down to the basement, deep into the tunnels. One of her previous generations had created supply bags in case they ever had to flee during a war. Deborah grabbed a bag and an ill-fitting set of leather armor. As the sun rose, she exited out the secret exit of the library into the Lost Woods. Unsure of what she'd find or how she'd get by. But she didn't have much choice. She had to try.

If I could freeze this moment forever, I would. I would box up this feeling and pull it out whenever I felt sad, whenever I felt like I had failed or like I wasn't enough. The feeling of pride that wells up inside every time someone asks about you and the stories you hold. The way they listen, and some beam with pride. I would forever remember the way it felt to hold you in my hands, to judge your cover and my words in ink. I would hold it close and use it as a weapon when imposter syndrome knocks at my door. If I could freeze this moment in time, it would be the one where the shock of the final draft being done hit me so hard that I had to sit on my bathroom floor. Whenever I felt like giving up on the next project, I would sit in that feeling to inspire me to keep trying. There are times when I look at you and the doubts come like title waves. What if you're not enough, what if no one cares? What if I’ve tricked myself into believing you’re any good? In those times, I will remember the way my editor and early readers praised the stories found within your pages. You might not be the most perfect book, and not everyone will read you, but for me, you are the perfect first step; you pave the way for every book I write after you. I am happy that you came first. Allow me a moment, if you will, to thank those of you who stop by and read my little short stories. Who helped me grow the courage to release my first book, Through the Puddles! I wrote this to summarize my feelings about releasing a book before it went live. I can’t even wrap my head around the feeling from release day that was just a whirlwind. Once again, thank you.

"Miss Ginny! Miss Ginny! We need someone to cut the ribbon at the Library reopening!" "Ginny! We need volunteers for the soup kitchen!" "Ginny, you're still going to come read stories to the seniors? Right?" Everyone wants her to do something just because she was Wave Rocker's chosen damsel? Some call her his girlfriend but can you be someone's girlfriend if you've never been on a date? What makes matters worse, Wave Rocker never sets the record straight and inconveniences her for his own convenience! He should be the one at all these events. But no he uses his damsel for the less glamerless events. Not to mention these events leave her vulnerable to kidnapping. Which lets him play hero. Ginny can't tell anyone but after a year of this nonsense, She's ready to disappear. So between public appearances and her job, she's been making plans to move away. It wasn't easy when everyone thinks they are entitled to your time. But she was ready. She plans to slip out after the big hero celebration and the city can find a new damsel to burn out. Each kidnapping, each Public event, and each unrealistic expectation solidified her resolve to leave. So after the big parade where Wave Rocker saves her and flies her around the city people cheer. While they continue their party at the community center, Ginny slips away, gets in her car and starts to leave Oakville for good. She makes it to the welcome sign when FlameThrower lands in front of her. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the hero's little girlfriend. I thought you'd be soaking in the party!" "Flame seriously not today, I need to go!" She calls from the car. "And miss my chance to ruin Wavies big day? Come on deary you know me better than that." "Flame I SAID I NEED TO GO!" Her voice cracks and the desperation breaks through and she feels tears burn in her eyes. FlameThrower freezes, and his flames stop. "Woah, you're serious, are you okay deary?" "No! No, I'm not. No one cares about me, Ginny. Only me Wave Rocker's girlfriend. And I'm not even sure that's what we are." Her hands pound on the steering wheel. "Ginny, I don't think you should drive today, come on, come back to the compound with me. And if after some rest, if you still wanna leave we'll get you out, I promise." "And why should I trust you FlameThrower?" She gripped the steering wheel ready to speed off. "It could be a trap." "It would be, but FlameThrower has a flair for the dramatic." He holds out his hand, "Willian just sees someone who needs a hand, and maybe a friend.'' "Fine. One Night." she fights the exhaustion trying to claim her. Flamethrower lifts her car and flies it to his compound, hiding her car in the underground garage, "There you're hidden away and no one will find you here." Ginny gets out of her car, "Thank you FlameThrower." "Please just call me William." He guides her through the compound. "Fine. Thank you, William." She looks around, "How can you afford this?" William pauses, "Are you not on the city's payroll?" Ginny just stares at him. "Ginny you are being paid right?" "Paid? No! Are you?" Ginny's body stiffens, everything she’d been through… "Wait you mean to tell me that I've been kidnapping you and putting you in danger when you aren't on the payroll?! That is ridiculous! Ginny, you need to join my side, make them pay!” William’s body starts to burn a bright orange. “I– I can’t believe it, the city pays you two for this little show? Is any of it real?” She feels her own rage grow. “Oh me and Wavie, despise each other. We just both happened to be at the same place at the same time and got affected by the same freak accident. When it became clear that we both had powers, instead of suing the city offered us jobs to boost tourism. Seemed like the better deal in the long run.” He shrugs. They walk in silence for a while, William leads her to the guest room, “I’m serious Ginny, you should join me, I can pay you as my assistant.” “Dress up in a costume and be eye candy? Ya no, I’d rather run away.” She curls up on an armchair in the room. William leans on the door laughing, “Not quite, but I hired a few people to work for me, most of them live here in staff housing, and I could use someone to help me manage them, pulse I run my own business because supervillain can’t be a longtime career. You could help with that. Take a break for six months, disappear and if you want to make the city pay, we can create a fun story and throw off old Wavie for a while, maybe even get an apology from him.” “I… I need time to think about it.” her mind is reeling. “Why did he keep having me do all those events if he was getting paid?” William shifts at the door, “I’m not sure, I thought you were getting paid, the city would always tipped me off to where you’d be.” “Great now I’m too angry to sleep!” She stands up and huffs, pacing around the room. “I’ve got a shooting range for target practice if you need to blow off some rage.” He gestures down the hall. “Tempting, but I’ll wash up and then once I lay down in bed I’ll probably crash hard.” She lets out slow breaths, and heads toward the ensuite “I get that, I’ll make sure you get breakfast in the morning and Ginny?” he pauses just before he leaves. “Yes, William?” She glances over her shoulder. “Really think about it, okay? The City should face your fury.” He smiles and shuts the door behind him. Looking out the window at the city lights, Ginny mutters, “Maybe they should.”

I step out of the portal, “Woah - it really is like time travel.” I look around at a version of my town that has long faded from memory. “Don’t forget ma’ma you only have an hour.” the man in a suit smiles at me. I look in the window of the chain coffee shop I still frequent. She is there, fidgeting nervously, she is in bright teal skinny jeans, with a cute white sweatshirt with a big pink heart on the front. Her long hair reaches well past the middle of her back. I remember the weight of that hair, and how hard it was to manage. For a brief moment, I see my reflection overtop of her, oh how different we are. “Has she been here long?” “She was 20 minutes early, but you knew she would be.” He smirks. “And yes, I was still five minutes late.” I straighten up and put my hand on the door. “Remember, nothing that happens here changes anything that happened after this visit.” he gives me a nod and I head in. As soon as I open she looks up and we lock eyes, I can already tell she is shocked I kept her waiting. I watch her look me over. She takes in my bright pink blazer, black t-shirt and wide-leg jeans. Her eyes stop at my hair, I watch them go wide, it’s short now, and he hates short hair. Her eyes flick to my left hand, no wedding ring, her face falls, and I take a seat. She timidly hands me a hot chocolate, some things never change. She looks at me and her face holds a million questions, and I can’t answer any of them, instead, I slide a few stories across the table, and she looks up at me, “We wrote these?” I nod, she flips from page to page, “Does mom like them?” I smile, “She’s our biggest fan.” I laugh, “Though our best friend might give her a run for her money.” Looking up from the pages I wrote to help her heal, “We get better?” her voice holds hope. I lean forward, I could tell her it’s gets worse before it gets better, or that things will get dark, or how we almost walk away from the light, but I don’t. “We do, and you’ll help others along the way.” She reads those few stories over and over as if she is trying to burn them into her brain, I only wish she could keep them with her when things get hard, it might have made things easier. Soon our hour comes to an end and I reach across the table and place my hand atop hers, “Hey, you’re enough.” She gives a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, “I know.” She whispers, and I know she doesn’t believe me, I wouldn’t have either. I lean in, “And you're not too much, you never have been and you never will be. You don’t need to take up less space to be loved.” She pulls her hand away and hides behind a sip of her drink. I get up first. “Thank you for meeting me.” I turn where the man in the suit waits to take me back through a portal to a life she hasn’t even started to dream of yet. But before I leave I hear the faint whisper, “Thank you for the reminder.”

Abigail grew up near a hedge maze. She and her family visited the maze almost every weekend, even when the maze turned into a regular park in the winter. Safe to Abigail knew this maze inside and out.  This had its advantages at the big festivals when she got overwhelmed and needed a moment of quiet she knew just the dead end to hide in. Her parent's only rule was to have your phone on you so we can find you in an emergency ,  which she happily obeyed. One day during the kick-off for the summer event Abigail disappears into her little hideout. She flops onto the grass and stares at the clouds rolling by. She can faintly hear the band playing. Then she hears footsteps. Great someone found this dead end.   She sighs and braces herself for questions. "Oh thank goodness! Another human!” That sounds like another kid. Abigail props herself up, "It seems you found my hideout." "This dead end is your hideout?" The girl looks around.  "Yep!" Abigail pops the P, "It's one of the harder dead ends to find so it's pretty quiet.” “And you know this because?" the grit plops down, defeated.  "My family’s a pass holder and the maze never changes.” She shrugs, “So after years I've got it memorized." Abigail smirks, “Names Abigail by the way."  "Tiffany" the girl smiles. "Can you help me out of hear?"  "Do you just want out or do you want to see the fountain at the center?" Abigail lays back down.  "Honestly? I don't know. I feel like I've been running around for hours." Tiffany lets out a sigh.  "Well come look at clouds with me and we can decide in a bit." Abigail lays back down. Then she quickly sends her parents a text, “If someone is looking for a Tiffany, she's got a blue streak. in her hair, she's with me, I'll get her out shortly.”  After it was clear that Tiffany had settled and Abigail shared her water the two girls stood up. "So fountain or just get out?" Abigail stretches.  "Do you mind, I'd love to see the fountain," Tiffany asks uncomfortably.  "Oh yeah, I even knew a shortcut from here. let's go!" Abigail takes Tiffany's hand and leads her through the hedge maze. Soon they come face to face with The Fountain. "How? You made it seem so easy." Tiffany runs her hand under the cool water. Abigail beams. "Like I said the maze never changes, Did you come in by yourself? Rather bold for your first time here.”  Tiffany shrugs, "I guess so. My parents didn't want to try the maze today so I thought I could handle it." "Hey, I've helped several adults get out of the maze. Don't feel bad." Abigail leads her out of the maze.  "Maybe you'll work here someday." Tiffany runs her hand along the plants in wonder at the maze around them. "That's what my mom says." Abigail chuckles. Once the girls get out of the maze they are met by their parents. "Girls!" Abigail's mother waves them over. "Guess what we just learned, Tiffany moved in across the alleyway behind the house. So you girls will be seeing a lot of each other! The girls share a smile.  Over the years, they became partially inseparable friends. Their bond was unbreakable. Abigail and Tiffany both knew the Maze inside and out and often hid in it. As predicted, they got jobs at the park. Tiffany works in the concession stand, and Abigail works at the ticket booth. Part of her job is to rescue lost people in the Maze, which she and Tiffany make jokes about all the time.  Abigail stops by the concession stands on her way for break, "Hey Tiff, ya ready to go?" Tiffany pops her head out "Yep! And it's Friday!'' she brings out an order of fries the girls slip into the maze. "Can you believe it's almost time for college?" Tiffany sits down in the grass and sets the fries between them.  "I know, I still can't believe we aren’t going together" Abigail lays back looking at the clouds.  "I know. It's kinda crazy." Tiffany mumbles, popping a fry into her mouth.  “Think will we still be friends in a year?" Abigail looks over at her. "Well duh! Why would you even ask." Tiffany laughs. “Ya, but we have friends who didn't last through high school. And my mom has like two friends from then." Abigail picks at the fries.  Tiffany lays down next to Abigail, pointing to the clouds, "And if you are the only one I keep from high school. I'd be okay with that.”  Abigail smiles, "I'd be more than okay with that." The girls spend the rest of their break pointing out shapes in clouds and sharing what the future could look like.

Elizabeth walks into her childhood home, it still smells like Mom's apple pie, even though it had been years since her mom had baked one. It’s almost like the smell had been baked into the wall. Here feels like home more than her studio apartment ever does.  Her mom knew how to make a space feel like a home; though Elizabeth isn't sure anywhere will feel like home now that mom is gone. The house is technically hers now. Mom left it to her, it’s a big space just for her, and her mind was wheeling with options. She had time to decide what to do with it, but she didn’t want to linger with her choice. Wandering through the familiar halls of her adolescence and childhood.  Taking a deep breath she opens the door to her Mom's studio. She could still recall all the art that had been created in this room.  "Oh my." Elizabeth gasps. Her mom still had the dress-up box in the corner of the room, she’d always assumed it got moved to the attic once she outgrew dress-up, "I wonder."  She opens the old art supply closet, yep there it is, the "secret" door that leads to the backyard. Mom's studio really had been the back porch that her dad had converted into an art space for his wife.  Growing up she used to believe that when she went through the "secret" door she ended up in a land of fairies and magic, her mom had even designed her a fairy costume to wear in her magical land. Opening the dress-up box, the dress is still neatly folded on top, she slowly lifts the dress out. Looking at it now makes her heart swell, when did she last wear the dress, there were so many little details she’d missed as a child.  She stares back at the door, it’s most likely overgrown and wouldn't open but she steps towards it anyway, longing for something that feels familiar. As if something is calling out to her, she turns the knob and slowly pushes the door open. To her surprise, there's little resistance. And the door opens with ease. The first thing she notices is that it’s raining. But it hadn’t been raining when she got here. There hadn’t even been rain in the forecast. Otherwise, she would have worn her rain boots. When she looks down, her feet are covered in rain shoes that look like they are made of leaves. As she stares at the space that is definitely not her mom’s backyard, she notices there is an umbrella by the door. It looks like it's made of twigs and leaves that are somehow held together by magic.  Opening the umbrella she steps out into the magical land, as she takes more steps memories flow over her. A warmth fills her, and then she hears whispers, “She's back.”  “Is that really her?” “Someone get the grand fairy!” The grand fairy – that feels familiar, she walks deeper into the forest that made her childhood. When suddenly fairies poke out from the trees and brush, using leaves as umbrellas. Near the end of the path, an old fairy appears. Elizabeth picks up her pace, her heart remembering the face of an old friend, she holds out her hand and the old fairy settles in her palm, “You came back.” The fairy’s voice is soft but worn.  “I can't believe this is still here,” Elizabeth says in amazement. “I would have thought all the imagination had worn off.”  “No, you held the imagination in your heart. You remembered us faintly, and so, we lived on. Your mother also painted us from memories of your stories.” The old fairy smiles and Elizabeth feels her composer slip. Her mom had given her a book of those paintings for the last birthday they celebrated together.  Tears burn at Elizabeth’s eyes and she can’t stop them from rolling down her cheeks, hot stinging tears, the little fairy flies up and wipes the tears with a flower petal. “There, there. We were so sorry to hear of your mother's passing.”  Elizabeth nods, “Thank you. It’s been so hard, and she left me the house and I don’t know what to do with it. It’s too much for just me, but how could I part with it?” Elizabeth falls to her knees losing the umbrella, and feeling the cold soak through her jeans, her hair quickly sticking to the sides of her face.  However, the rain doesn’t pelt at her long before several fairies lift the umbrella over her. And the old fairy sits on her shoulder, “Hush now daughter of the forest, you don’t have to make any choices right now. There will be time for that later, now is the time for grief and loss. The house isn’t going anywhere. Surely the Mainland won’t rush you to choose.”  “No, there is no real rush, I just… Mom would know what to do, she’d have wise words and I can’t even ask her what to do.” Elizabeth strikes her hands against her legs as more tears burst from her eyes.  The old fairy flies down and gives a little pull on her hand, “Come walk with us.” Elizabeth nods, takes back the umbrella and numbly walks through the forest. As they walk she feels lighter, the pain is still there, but it’s not as sharp.  “Will I ever feel like I can breathe again?” She whispers to the old fairy who still sits on her shoulder. “You will, I promise. After rain, the sun always shines.” And as if right on cue they enter a little clearing and the sun shines, warming Elizabeth's cold body.  “I wasn’t ready to do this without her.” She lowers the umbrella and lets the sun smile on her face.   “No one ever is, daughter of the forest. But you will find her lessons and love everywhere you look.” The old fairy pats her cheek.  “If I were to stay here, or rather at the house, would you still be here? You know if I wanted to come back and visit?” She can’t help but feel a bit silly asking such a question.  “When you need us we will be here. After all, this is your magical land.” The old fairy flies in front of her.  Elizabeth smiles a little before bidding them farewell and going back through the “secret” door. A few weeks later after sorting through her Mom’s stuff, she moves in.  Sitting down at her mom's old desk, she pulls out the book of paintings and starts writing The Adventures of the Girl and the Fairy Door.

Victor Williams sits down for dinner with his family and before his father can ask about his test two large men burst into his house, “Villain!” They grab him and pull him from his house. “No! My son!” He hears his mom's scream and his sister chases after them. “You can’t take my brother away!” His little sister grabs his ankle and tries to stop them. Victor breaks free from the men, and hugs his sister, “Lacy, you need to be brave without me okay?” She nods, “I'll find a way to see you, I promise.” He whispers before the gab at him again. “I’ll go willingly. There is no need to traumatize my sister.” As soon as he steps outside the world goes black. When he wakes up he’s on a charter bus with other seventeen year olds found to have super powers from the dark side no doubt. “Vic you’re here? You’re like the golden boy, how on earth are you here?” Carson, the kid who had bullied him since grade school sits across the aisle from him. “I…I don’t know.” He leans his head against the cold window but nothing looks familiar anymore. The cold window slows his racing thoughts. He is the son of the city's greatest hero, was he to be the city's greatest villain? Glancing around the bus, he’s suddenly very grateful for the secret identities. Thinking about his Dad brought up that comfortable feeling of rage, his dad isn’t a good person, he’s incredibly rude, selfish and loaded his supper hero status over his mom and family, but because his powers came from a light source he was a hero? It never sat right with Victor, even more so now, sure some of these kids were jerks, but did sending them away to a villain school really seem like the best thing to do? Parents always tell you it’s what in your heart that matters most – until you're seventeen? Soon they pull into what can only be described as a compound, Victor feels his heart sink, what is going to happen to them now? They are led through a maze of corridors until they arrive in the mess hall. Caption Racketeer stands in front of them, “Welcome Young Villains.” His voice echoes throughout the mess hall. “I know some of you are thinking, but I’m not that bad.” Then as if he locks eyes with Victor and it seems like he smirks, “Or even I’m a good person. But the city cares not! Your powers once developed will come out with a black glow and the people will fear you.” He walks down the table, “But you do have a choice, you can stay here and be trained into a villain, or you can go through the painful process of surrendering your power potential and return to your civilian life, your parents will be told you have been reformed.” The kids start to whisper amongst themselves. Victor's mind races, can he go back, would his father be more disappointed if he gave up his powers then if he was a villain. But to be a villain meant never seeing Lacy again. He feels like he’s being torn in two. And if the city can remove your powers, why wait till kids are 17, why not learn to track the gene down when they are younger and have no heroes and villains like other cities. Suddenly it dawns on him, money. The city makes huge money on tourism. “You have 48 hours to decide, until then you will be kept here in this part of the compound, we have to keep the identities of the villains safe.” With a snap of his hand Caption Racketeer makes everyone's favourite treat appear in front of them. Victor has no desire to eat cookies that were not made by his mom. A cold hand sets in on his shoulder, Caption Racketeer stands over him, “Come with me boy.” Victor gulps and follows, “Yes, Sir.” Once in a side room Caption Racketeer lets his mask fall, “Cousin James?” “Hey Vicky Boy! Long time no see eh! So you didn’t inherit Uncle Bill's hero traits, bet he’s disappointed.” That stung more than it should have. “Guess not. Why are you showing me who you are? What about the whole identity thing?” He shifts uncomfortably. “That’s just a thing we say, besides, you already know one of the greatest heroes in the city, clearly you can keep a secret. You're gonna stay here right? No way you can go home, Uncle Bill would kill you.” How can James say that and not see the irony? “I’m gonna think about it.” He shrugs. “Honestly, with how much of a good kid you are, I’m shocked you're here. Maybe I should recommend a retest, maybe it was a bad day.” James mutters. “Why would a bad day change that?” Victor tilts his head. “Don’t worry about it, just stay here with me. You can be my sidekick, we can be a dynamic duo!” James dawns his costume, “Think about it, alright?” Victor nods and returns to his seat numb. The 48 hours fly by, unable to think about going home, a failure he chooses to stay, maybe he can be a secret good guy or something. Once training starts Victor learns his powers are the counterpart to his fathers, his father’s powers move like electericty, his move like waves. He also notices to use his powers he is told to think of the person who angers him the most, the angrier he gets the darker his powers get. The more he focuses on the darkness the harder his heart becomes, his hands start to cool too, this causes him to wonder… “Hey Caption James.” He calls after his cousin once the session lets out, “Can you get a private practice slot? I wanna test out a few things.” “But don’t wanna be embarrassed, I got you cuz.” He flips through the book, “Feel like getting up early? There is an open slot at dawn.” “Yea I’ll take it.” It might hide what he’s up to. “Perfect, I’ll make ya down. The key for the field will just appear on your way.” He turns to leave, “Hey, it’s name day next week, you think of one yet?” “I have some ideas, yea.” Victor shugs, “We’ll see how the next few practices go.” The next morning, alone on the practice field, he stands in the center and rather than thinking about his dad and the rage that had become so comfortable, he thinks of Lacy, her smile, her laughter, the way she always called him her hero. He feels his hand start to warm and the power that flows from his hands is the warm glow of a hero. He freezes. He lets his mind wander back to the feeling of failure, of rage and the power changes back to the black oil like flow. It all made sense, his father may be horribly unkind, but he oozes confidence… “We aren’t villains – the powers reflect how you feel!” and if his father knew that then he set his son to become a villain. And even if his father didn’t know the city had to have figured it out by now, and still they turned kids into villains! For what? Tourism profits! As his rage boils over from his hands flows streams of gold and black, he screams till his throat is raw, and collopes to the turf of the practice field. “I will be the difference I want to see, and the city won’t know what to do with me.” A week later when it comes time to pick a name and a costume he stands before the small crowd of villains, “I will be the Transgressor!” He clapped his hand and his costume, a mix of black and gold with an unbalanced scale across his chest. The other villain cheered, as the applause rolled over him he muttered, “And I will balance the scales.”