#cause if something is near celeste it will become flowers

[warlordfelwinter]

sort of ideating about what i might want celeste's eventual warlock mark to look like, cause i love warlocks having some sort of physical representation of their pact, especially when they look like sick tattoos. and i apparently just can't have a character without covering them in tattoos

white "ink", mostly flowers, some flames, and infernal script throughout laying out the terms of the pact in a way that's absolute nonsense unless it's asmodeus reading it

[rohad93]

Authority Online: Ch 5

Sunday morning Celeste got up and dressed as usual, but there was a certain nervous excitement that permeated everything she did. 

She and Jaune had agreed to meet at ‘The Daily Grind. The cafe just next door to the bakery, though Jaune didn’t know that. 

It would give her some familiar turf, and she knew the majority of the staff, on the off chance that she needed help extracting herself from the situation. 

They weren’t meeting till ten and it was only nine-thirty but she still found herself already sitting inside the cafe, sipping nervously on a mug of black tea. For a Sunday morning, there were a number of people in the cafe this morning, having coffee and chatting. The quiet den of people helped put her somewhat at ease.

She’d decided that jeans and a pale blue blouse, that she didn’t get to wear near often enough, would be alright. She scuffed her flats across the floor. She just couldn’t help all the twitchy nervous energy. She absent-mindedly curled a lock of silvery hair around her fingers. This wasn’t even a date per se... they were just... meeting for coffee.  

Did Jaune think it was a date? 

Bloody hell, at this point she wasn’t even sure what this was. She was in that weird limbo where she was fond of someone but didn’t know them well enough yet to say if she really liked them or not. They had talked quite a bit over the last week but it wasn’t the same as meeting. 

Wasn’t that why people went on dates though?  

While she was mulling this over she didn’t notice or even look up when the bell over the front door jingled. 

A few minutes later she felt a presence nearby followed by a soft clearing of a throat. 

“Celestine?” 

She jumped, turning to look up at the blonde now standing a few feet away with a mug in one hand. 

She really was quite tall. 

“Can I sit?” she asked after a second and Celeste felt a flash of embarrassment shoot through her.

“Ah, I’m sorry, of course, please.” She gestured to the empty seat. 

She took a brief moment to really look at her companion as she situated herself in the chair across from her

  Her profile had certainly been accurate. She was tall and lean, the angularness of her features was not contained to just her face, but the rest of her as well was squared with an almost sharpness to it. Short, bright blonde hair, that Celeste couldn’t quite tell if it were real or dye was combed neatly into a smooth wave atop her head and she had sharp amber-colored eyes. 

She was wearing black slacks with a white button-down tucked into them, the top two buttons left undone, revealing pronounced collar bones and the sleeves rolled just above her elbows. 

“I feel a little underdressed,” she admitted with a nervous smile as Jaune took a sip out of her cup.

Those amber eyes widened and she spluttered a little on the hot coffee.

“Please, don’t. This is about as casual as I ever get any more,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair. 

Her companion seemed just as nervous as she felt and it dulled some of her own nerves.

“Semi-formal is your casual?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice and was delighted at the hint of pink that seemed to crawl across Jaune’s cheeks. 

”I think it would be more accurate to call it business-casual…,” she mumbled, embarrassedly, glancing off to the side.

Celeste couldn’t help but laugh, causing those eyes to slide back to her. 

“I knew ‘Carrick’ was Irish, but I didn’t expect the accent,” she stated, leaning back and crossing one long leg over the other before taking a long drink of her coffee.  

“Ah, It was much thicker when I was younger. When we first moved here my sister and I were often teased for it.”

“People are like that.” Jaune hummed, the tone was sympathetic. “It’s lovely.” 

It was Celeste’s turn to feel the heat creeping up her neck at the compliment. 

“Thank you…” She took a sip of her tea, if for no reason then to give herself a moment while she collected herself. “I almost expected you to have a french accent.” 

Jaune barked a laugh at that. It was rough and sharp, but the sound seemed perfectly in place coming from the blonde, and Celeste couldn’t help but smile.

“Ah, yes, no,” she snorted. “My family’s ancestry is French, but that was generations ago. Which is fine, I prefer my words to have a normal amount of vowels.” she smiled behind her cup when the baker laughed.

Celeste was so caught up in her companion that she didn’t notice the family of three walking past the cafe outside.

“How much pancake mix do you think we’ll need?” Greg looked at his wife, their son on his shoulders as they locked the bakery’s front door behind them. 

“I think one bag should be enough for the three of us,” she hummed as they walked past the cafe. She glanced into the shop but did a double-take and stopped. “ What’s Celeste…” she started but quickly changed gears. “Who is that?” 

Greg leaned around his wife to look into the windows of the cafe. Sure enough, his sister-in-law was sitting at a table in the back, a mug in hand and smiling brightly at a tall blonde woman sitting across from her. It only took a second for him to realize it must be the woman she’d met on the dating site.

The one she didn’t want her sister to know about.

Rose started toward the cafe’s door and Greg jerked.

“Rose, wait!” He grabbed her hand before she could go inside.

“What, what’s wrong, I just want to... pop in real quick…," she mumbled trying for the door again.

“No” Greg gently pulled her away. “She’s…,” he started and had to think fast as his wife leveled a look at him that clearly said she could see her sister in the cafe with a woman and she was going to investigate it if he didn't come up with a damn good answer. “That’s… her lawyer!” he finally said.

“Her lawyer?” Rose repeated, eyes wide.

“Yeeees,” he drawled, stalling while he thought, Steven tugging at his hair was not helping. “She told me the other day she was meeting with a lawyer, for some, you know, legal stuff for the bakery. We shouldn’t bother her when she’s doing business stuff,” he reasoned. 

Rose hummed, looking through the glass. The other woman was certainly dressed like a lawyer. Much too formal for a date in a coffee shop.  

“You’re right. She can tell me about it later,” she agreed as they moved past the shop. Greg let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as he followed behind Rose to the market. 

The two were still sitting inside nearly forty minutes later when the three walked back by and showed no signs of moving. Greg hoped that was a good sign.  

~ ~ ~ ~

“Surely she can’t be all that bad?” Celeste laughed at the look on Jaune’s face after one of the many stories she had about her mother doing something terribly embarrassing when she was a child.

“Yes, she can.” Jaune insisted gruffly. “The problem is she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it,” she grumbled. 

“She certainly sounds… like a character,” she finally settled on, resting a chin in her palm, smiling when Jaune chuckled.

“Straight out of Shakespeare,” she agreed. 

“My sister may be just as dramatic, though, in a different way.” Celeste glanced in the direction of the bakery, where the rest of her family was. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaune said, the tone was serious but the twitch in her lips indicated otherwise.

“Can I get you another cup of tea, Celeste?” A waiter paused at their table. 

“Ah, no, thank you, Tom.” She smiled at the boy.

He turned and indicated to Jaune’s cup questioningly. She held up a hand.

“No, thank you.” He nodded and left. “You seem to be quite well known here.” she turned back to Celeste, who gave a little shrug.

“My bakery is… nearby,” she hedged. Jaune nodded.

“I’m not that familiar with this part of town, so I’ve never had the pleasure, though, to be honest, I’m not much of a sweets person. My mother didn’t allow that kind of stuff when I was a kid, so I never really developed a taste for it.” 

“Perhaps you've just never had anything good."

"Perhaps not," she admitted.

"Would you like to?" she asked, cocking her head.

"Huh?" 

Celeste smiled. The confused face the lawyer was making made her grin.

"Would you like to try something good?" she asked again.

"Something of yours?" she clarified.

"Yes, something of mine." Celeste couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice at having caught her companion off-guard.

It was becoming clear to her that those lovely blue eyes had a way of throwing her off-kilter, but Jaune was nothing if not adaptable, part of the trade. 

"You seem awfully confident in that assertion." Her smirk widened into a grin when Celeste sat up straighter, obviously not going to take the teasing comment sitting down.

"I am” 

“Lead the way” She held out a hand as they stood from the table. She threw some money down on the table and followed Celeste to the door.

“How far is it?” she asked as they stepped outside into the warm sunlight.

“Oh, not far,” Celeste mumbled, pulling her keys out of her pocket and walking the ten feet to her own front door.

“Obviously not…” Jaune drawled, cocking a brow as she stopped and began opening the door. “When you said nearby, I didn’t realize that meant next door.” 

“I didn’t say it wasn’t next door, though.” she quipped, stepping into the shop with Jaune at her heels. The jingling bells heralding their arrival to the dark and quiet shop. 

“Fair enough…” she said, looking around the shop. It was clean and had a nice, homey feel to it. The white linoleum floor and stainless steel display cases shined with the light bouncing in through the front windows. The walls were painted a pale blue and held framed photographs or pastries and flowers. 

“It’s very nice.” she turned back to Celeste, who had been watching her look around from the corner of her eye, 

“Thank you. You’re not allergic to anything are you?” 

“Not unless you put bees in your baked goods,” she said with a grin that was mirrored back.

“Wait right here.” Celeste held up a finger before disappearing into the back, leaving her standing in the middle of the shop.

They had a few things made up, but she knew exactly what she wanted the blonde to try. She stepped into the walk-in, missing the sound of little feet in the stairwell and padding out of the kitchen.

Jaune was still admiring the shop when movement out of the corner eye made her turn, but instead of Celeste, a small, dark, curly-haired boy of about six was starring at her with wide eyes from behind the display case, a piece of paper clutched in one tiny fist. 

“Um, hello?” 

“Hi, I’m Steven.” He moved closer and smiled at her but his face morphed into awe as he came to stand at her feet. “You’re tall…,” he said, looking up at her.

“So I’ve been told… Where did you come from?” She looked around. 

More importantly, did Celeste have a son? Surely she would have mentioned it already if she did.  

“Upstairs” He pointed up.

Before Jaune could say anything Celeste came out of the back and immediately saw the boy.

“Steven! What are you doing down here?” She quickly walked up to them.

“Hi, Aunt Celeste!” He smiled brightly and wrapped his arms around her legs. Jaune let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “I heard the bells,” he explained. “ I wanted to show you my drawing.” He held up the piece of paper for her and she smiled, looking at the crayon drawing of a large pink… lion maybe? 

“That’s very nice, love, but why don’t you go back upstairs before your mother comes looking for you, I’ll come by later and you can show me, alright?” She smiled at him.

He nodded and turned back to Jaune and waved.

“Bye” with that he trotted away into the back. 

“I’m sorry about that…” Celeste started. 

“No need to be sorry.” She shook her hand. “Your sister’s son?”

“Yes, Steven. He’s a sweetie. Speaking of… here.” She held out a small maybe one inch square on a piece of parchment paper. It was a golden-brown color with chocolate drizzled over the top. 

“This is a butterscotch bite,” she explained as Jaune reached up to take the treat. Their fingers brushed and both had to suppress a sudden tingle.

Jaune popped the treat into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. 

Celeste watched her face and couldn’t help but smile brightly as the blonde’s eyes widened and her eyebrows shot into her hairline. 

“You have every right to be confident. That’s… really good.” Jaune finally said after she’d swallowed.

“Thank you.” 

Before she could say anything else a loud chiming filled the air, startling them both.

Jaune dug her phone out of her pocket and hit a button, a severe frown marring her face.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize what time it was, I have some work I need to finish before tomorrow.”

“Ah, of course, I’ll walk you out.” Celeste followed behind her. “It was very nice to finally meet you,” she said as they stepped outside the shop into the warm sun.

“The pleasure was entirely mine.” Jaune smiled and Celeste felt her stomach roll. “Celestine…” She started and automatically Celeste cut her off.

“Celeste,” she corrected. “Only my parent’s ever called me Celestine,” she chuckled and the corners of Jaune’s mouth twitched upward at the sound.

“Celeste…” she corrected and tried not to shift around too much. “Would... you like to have dinner with me next weekend?” she asked after a second but it felt much longer to them both.

“I’d love too,” she answered quickly and immediately felt an embarrassed heat rise up her neck at the eagerness but if Jaune noticed she made no indication.

They exchanged numbers and then the lawyer was gone, walking down the street.

Celeste closed and locked the door behind her and for the life of her couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she made her way upstairs, feeling absolutely giddy.

Maybe whatever today had been was up in the air but there was little doubt in her mind that Saturday night, she had a date.

With a witty and attractive blonde at that.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice the open door of her sister’s apartment.

"Celeste!" 

The baker jerked to stop in front of the open door where her sister appeared. 

"How was your meeting with the lawyer?" she asked and Celeste froze.

"You knew about that?" 

Suddenly Greg was standing in the doorway behind her sister making a slashing motion at his neck.

"Greg told me this morning when we were passing by the cafe, we saw you with your lawyer, having coffee. What did you need to see a lawyer about?"

"Ah, yes… I have been thinking about… maybe expanding the business and I just thought I might consult a lawyer about it first, nothing concrete yet." she managed to make up a story out of thin air. 

"Oh, I didn't know you were thinking about expanding the bakery." Rose crossed her arms and leaned against the door jam.

"As I said, nothing's been decided yet. Right now I do have to go upstairs and finish a few things though." she excused herself and Rose nodded just as Steven called out from another room.

"I better go see what all that's about." She rolled her eyes with a smile and hurried away. Greg stepped out into the hall.

"We saw you this morning having coffee with your… friend and she wanted to go in, I guess I just remembered that you said she was a lawyer so I said you were having coffee with a lawyer for business reasons," he explained quietly with a grimace.

She reached out and laid a hand on his arm.

"It's perfectly fine, Greg. Thank you."

"So…. How'd it go?" 

Celeste smiled and Greg grinned 

"That well, huh?" he chuckled and Celeste nodded.

"We're having dinner next Saturday," she admitted and he only smiled wider. "But I really do have some things I need to go finish before the day is over. Thank you again, Greg."

"Don't mention it,” he called watching his sister-in-law hurry up to the third floor and he wondered if she realized just how wide she was smiling at that moment. 

If Rose saw that face there was no way she’d believe whatever story they made up for her. 

~ ~ ~

Despite the work she very much needed to do, Jaune sat in her car for the better part of fifteen minutes just trying to come to grips with her morning. 

Celestine Carrick was just as lovely as her photos would have one believe, but they belied the charming and vivacious woman she was and Jaune had not been prepared. Not for that soft lilting accent nor those piercing blue eyes. She was beautiful and Jaune felt like a hot mess from the first moment she’d laughed till she’d left. 

She’d somehow managed to pull herself together long enough to ask her on an actual date, and she’d said yes.

Taking a deep breath, she started her car. It was going to be a long week leading up to Saturday. She still needed to decide exactly where she was going to take Celeste.

She also needed to come up with something to say to her mother, who had wanted to drag her to the opera with her on Saturday. 

A later problem.

She flexed her fingers against the leather of the steering wheel and ran her tongue over her teeth.

She could still taste chocolate and butterscotch.

Despite a life relatively free of sweets, she found herself already craving more. 

[elyyyyyyyy]

Before 25

blog post | 10.1 flash fiction

Original Story By: Genevieve Isobel Avila and Elizabeth Anne Rodriguez

How lucky am I to be alive. How lucky am I to be alive right now. How lucky am I to be alive right now to tell my story.

In my teenage years, I had purple hair, bloodshot eyes, pale skin and needle marks on both of my lower arms. I had no appetite, no sleep and no care in the world. On most days and nights, I was anywhere in town that was having a party. On average, I could finish a bottle of gin, take at least three smokes of pot and a couple of pills to complete my day. I almost overdosed twice but that never really bothered me, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right”?

For my 18th birthday, the present I got from my parents was as an all-expense paid trip to a private Island in Freymere, Nova Scotia and a three- year stay at St. Mark Ji Tianxing’s Rehabilitation Center for Troubled Youth. I was perplexed upon hearing the news that I was to be shipped off to another rehab because first of all, I did not know that St. Mark Ji Tianxing was real. As it turned out, he was a Chinese martyr and an opium addict. Secondly, this rehab center was located in a private island which makes my chances of escaping quite improbable. And finally, the most upsetting part was that I was to stay there for three whole years.

St. Mark’s was indeed a peculiar institution for the treatment approach was unorthodox. The main program was that each person was assigned to a “social group” consisting of five to seven people. The group had to do most of the treatment activities together and earn merit and demerit points which can lessen or add time to our stay in the center. Also, every night before lights out, it is part of the routine that the group shall stay for about an hour at the social hall to have a conversation and share whatnots. I couldn’t care less about their treatment methods because I know that the minute I get out of here, I’ll be back to being an addict.

On my first night, I was to meet my group and get acquainted with one another. I was grouped with two other boys and girls. I sat beside the girl who was almost thin to the bone with long brown locks. She offered her hand and opened up the conversation, “Hi! “We’re so pleased to meet you Amanda, my name’s Beverly.” I barely touched her hand for I was scared I’d break her bones. Pointing to the pale skinned boy with broad shoulders sitting on my left, Beverly said “That’s Tony.” He had sharply intimidating eyebrows with tired eyes. When I shook his hand, it was really cold. Beverly continued, “The one beside him is River.” This boy had blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. He didn’t bother for a handshake, he only nodded his head to me. “And finally, this is Celeste.” She had jet black hair with chocolate highlights that complemented her hazel eyes, I can tell that she was a little younger than the rest of us. “And that’s all of us.” Beverly said brightly, “So, let’s get to know each other more, can you tell us something about yourself?” I was really hoping to avoid that question so I kept my answer brief. “There’s really not much to know about me except that I’m here because my parents hate me. So, that’s it folks, goodnight!” I stood up and walked my way out of the social hall. As I was near the exit of the hall, I was stopped by one of the nurses. “Excuse me miss. You can’t leave yet. Sharing time isn’t over. Please go back to your group.” I was really pissed by that point so I lost all sense of the word calm and went on to a violent outburst. “Listen lady, my parents didn’t pay this institution to prevent me from sleeping! This is rehab not prison! Why can’t I sleep when I want to sleep?” I grabbed the flower vase on a nearby table and smashed it. Then I proceeded to curse the nurse some more until finally two more nurses took hold of me. “Congratulations, you have earned yourself and your group 100 demerit points and you shall serve four hours of manure duty tomorrow at the farm. Now go back to your group and discuss your task tomorrow.” I angrily walked back and sat down with the rest. By their vexed expressions, I figured they all heard our punishment. For the rest of the period, I was given the silent treatment. So the five of us just sat there in a circle looking like a bunch of messed up nightmares.

The next day, while we were on manure duty, the group did their best to avoid me. The girls also kept murmuring and saying nasty things about me as if I couldn’t hear them. Finally, after three hours of shovelling animal crap and listening to those girls cursing me, I lost control. “Look, I am done with this. It’s bad enough that it stinks in here and that all of you are pretending I don’t exist but you two talking nasty about me takes my rage over the top. So please, if you’ve got something to say to me, say it now to my face.” Celeste and Beverly were hesitant to speak until River interrupted. “Amanda, I’m not mad that we’re here shovelling the manure, I’m just a bit annoyed because you got us 100 demerit points. Now I don’t know if you’re aware but 20 demerit points increases our stay by one week.” Beverly butted in, “I’m down to my last six months and you added five weeks to my time.” Celeste added, “Demerit points are also reported on our records which lessens our chances at an early release.” I was going to have an argument with them, but then I realized what Celeste had said. “Hang on, did you just say an early release? Are you telling me that there is a way to get out of here faster?” Tony replied, “Accumulate 3,000 points, you get a shot at the evaluation. Pass that and you can get an early release from here.” Celeste quickly remarked, “That is if you can get 3,000 merits.” Suddenly it hit me, I have a chance at getting my freedom early. I asked, “What do I have to do to earn those merits?” Tony replied, “Well, first of all, you need to stop earning demerits which means that you have to do everything the nurses and doctors say and follow every rule. Merits are earned if you perform well in individual and group activities. Your behaviour is also important, the nurses take note of everything that you do. But even if you get 3,000 points, you still need to pass the evaluation.” I asked, “How hard could that be?” There was a short silence. Finally River spoke “It’s a series of tests mostly psychological and neurological. There’s also a lie detector test so good luck faking that. Also, the evaluation is only allowed for those who have stayed in the facility for at least six months.” In my head, I’ve made the brilliant escape plan. “Help me get those points. Let’s help each other get that early freedom. If we get out I promise to give you two years of drug supply for free and an invitation to all of my parties. So, what do you say?” There was silence. Then Beverly spoke up, “Make that three years supply and I’m in. Either way I’m leaving in a year.” River then said, “I’ll do it, as long as those parties have pretty girls in it.” Celeste was still hesitating but then she nodded. We all looked at Tony who was last to answer, “I can’t do that. I won’t go back to drugs. Unlike you guys, I admitted myself here because I’m here to get better, to be cured. I want no part in this plan of yours.” Tony then walked away and went back to shovel more animal feces. To the remaining three who accepted my proposition, I offered my hand for them to shake and the first one to take it was Celeste. With that, we began our six month mission to get out of this hellhole for good.

As months went on, I began to learn more about the lives of my four fellows. Tony was a poor kid who was forced to sell drugs when his father died and his mother got sick. He tried so hard to resist from doing drugs but he eventually got addicted at 17. Two years later, after he saved some money, he checked himself in St. Mark’s with the hopes of redeeming his life and helping his family. Celeste was the youngest among us. She’s just 15 but she’s already a mother. By the time she was an addict, she also got knocked up. I can’t blame her for she had absentee parents like me. After giving birth to her son, her parents sent her here hoping that when she gets out she’d be fit to become a mother. Beverly’s cause of addiction was no mystery. Just by looking at her you’d know why she’s an addict – she’s anorexic. She started using so that she wouldn’t have to eat. Even after two years of admission, she hasn’t gained much weight. Unlike the others, River was an enigma. He never shared much about himself. When I tried extract more information about him, he’d always change the subject. I just know he’s the oldest in our group at 21, that he’s the son of a well-known hotelier and that he was sent here after a near fatal car accident.

After six months of actively participating in treatment gimmicks, volunteering in community works and putting on our best behaviours in front of the nurses and doctors, we exceeded our goal by 2, 000 more merits and we were up for evaluation for early release. Everything was smooth-sailing until about a week before our scheduled evaluation, Tony reported our scheme to the head doctor. But with no substantial evidence they couldn’t say we were guilty of what he’s accused us. However, they didn’t let us off the hook that easy. Our evaluation was delayed and the tests were made to be even harder. Our entire plan was jeopardized all because Tony had to be the righteous man.

We all failed the evaluation except for River who, to our surprise, passed with flying colors. Within two weeks, he left the center and was a free man once more.

Beverly who was supposed to leave too was given a two year extension based on her performance during the evaluation. She did not take that news very well and even attempted to take her own life by drowning herself in the bath. Luckily Celeste found her but she was barely alive. She was treated at the infirmary for about five weeks. In that time, it was only me, Celeste and Tony doing all the group tasks together and it was a total nightmare. Celeste kept blaming Tony for what happened to Beverly, and Tony always blamed me for suggesting the plan to escape. We were always pointing fingers and constantly got into heated arguments and catfights which lead us to earn demerits and placed our friendship on a thread.

About three months after River left rehab, we received a letter from him addressed to the four of us along with the news that he died in car accident. One night as he was driving home, his car hit a truck and the crash instantly killed him. All of us were shocked and heartbroken. River may have kept to himself but he was our friend and we had a special bond. The envelope was dated two days before his untimely death. Trembling, I opened it and read the letter to the rest:

Dear all of you,

I know that I’ve been the shadow of the group. I never really opened up to any of you because I never had the courage to share my story, until now. So here it is. Growing up, I’d always had this feeling that I’d never grow old; like my life would end before it even started. Unlike my sisters who had dreams of seeing themselves as mothers and grandmothers, I never had those. I also found it hard to imagine myself having white hair and having children or grandchildren. When I was 16, I knew that this feeling was turning into a reality. With the lifestyle I had – chugging bottles of booze every night, mixing meth, cocaine, LSD and weed – I wouldn’t be surprised if I dropped dead before 25. Three years ago, on one fateful night, after partying like crazy, I crashed my car on a tree. I thought that was the end but as it turned out, it was a new beginning. If I didn’t crash on that tree, I would’ve never been to St. Mark’s and I would’ve never met all of you. I wasn’t surprised when I passed the evaluation and the rest of you didn’t, because I knew that I was really cured. How did I do it? Easy, I accepted the reality that I was an addict in a rehab center and that the only way out was to get better. I took all those treatments seriously and wholeheartedly allowed myself to be transformed into a better version of who I am – a version of myself who do not need drugs. So all that softer demeanour and brighter personality at the end were all true, I was cured. I didn’t expect that but it happened. And the same can happen to you. The treatment works only if you allow yourself to be treated. If you take them seriously, it can change you, it can save you.

Sincerely,

River

P.S. I didn’t say formal goodbyes to you when I left because I didn’t know how to do it. But I’m glad we didn’t say goodbye because that means we’ll see each other again.

There was no dry eye after I finished reading.

We couldn’t attend his funeral so we decided to have our own. In the Southern part of the island near the beach, we buried his letter as that was the only memento we had of him. But we didn’t forget what was in that letter for we memorized it by heart. River’s words made us realize how lucky we were to be alive and after we mourned his loss, we did what he wanted us to do.

Before anything else, we rebuilt our friendship that was torn apart by envy and greed. We recognized that the only way we can get through with our problems was that if we face them together. We made a pact that we must get better no matter how long it would take for us to do that.

The second time around, we took the treatments seriously. Each one of us were motivated by someone or something in our journey to become the best versions of ourselves. Beverly started to gain weight inspired by the models who had curvaceous bodies. Celeste considered her child as her inspiration for getting better. Tony finally accepted that it wasn’t poverty that got him into drugs but it was his own fault; he finally believed that he was getting better for himself and not just for his family. As for me, I was encouraged to be cured by my parents – by the idea that if I successfully finish rehab, I would become a better daughter to them.

Days turned into months, and months turned into years. One by one we left St. Mark’s with the hopes of continuing the progress we’ve made and braving the world without depending on drugs. We left behind our old lives to give ourselves new and better ones.

Today, I turn 25. I’ll be celebrating it with the people I love the most, the people who truly care for me, and the people who changed my life.

Looking back at the things I did in the past, I’d say my life was a mess. It truly was a rollercoaster ride but I would never regret the things that I did because those hits and misses made me who I am now. Those mistakes made me find who I’m meant to be and become the best version myself.

[bristidbits]

Axl

My entire life has been making sure that my sister was safe. We had been born in royalty, Princess and Prince of the Celestial Fairies. My parents had given my sister the name Celeste, based off her lineage, and her right to rule, and I was given the name Axl, which was not so ironically given based on my rule to protect her.

It wasn’t anything I questioned. I was born with an innate ability to protect and her to lead. It was written in the stars, as my parents always loved to say. At an early age, I was tasked with staying by her side, being trained in swords and guns, and even more so in hand-to-hand combat.

She spent her time, flying around in her room and laughing. Her laugh was the purest sound that filled all of us with joy, and with that, I knew that I had to protect her. Growing up, it was obvious that our paths were even more aligned, although they were separate.

She often visited the other fairies in our small village, healed the sick, played with the other children her age. At age 13, it was obvious to everyone that she was to take over the crown. Me, on the other hand, I spent my time sparring with Aelfdane, my father’s right-hand man.

He was relentless.

Every morning, I had a mini triathlon, including running, flying and transporting weights across water. Every afternoon after lunch, I had to spar with whatever he wanted to train with me that day. Sometimes, the matches were uneven, a gun against a hand fight, a sword against a gun. Aelfdane said that such rules were to make me stronger, to show me weaknesses and overcome them. I had to be prepared to deal with rogues – fairies who had abandoned their post to gain land or cause conflict – and poachers – humans who wanted to contain fairies to use them for their own needs.

Evenings were to myself. I could relax with Celeste, watch her as she danced cared to the gardens and played with the stars. We would share the bittersweet nectar of pomegranates as she listened to me complain about the work that I was doing. She healed whatever injuries I had, kissed me on the forehead, and told me “Thank you”. Just those words made it easier for me to continue on to the next day – to deal with the bruises and the wounds I endured.

Her grace was all that I needed.

This continued for a few more months, waking up to pain, sparring, and then relaxing. There was one thing that changed within our time of staying there. My sister had now gained a handmaiden to do her bidding. Despite her complaints and refusals to have someone who was like a slave to her, Rhoswen was assigned to her.

Rhos followed her everywhere, hand and feet. It was the first time that I ever saw Cel complain about having someone next to her. She thought of it as wrong for someone to be so complacent in what they did. I noticed that Rhos always looked at me strangely whenever she was around, but I never paid any mind to it.

Rhos stood in the background ready to wait on Cel for whatever she needed. Whenever Cel would try to get her in on whatever conversation we were having, Rhos would just shyly shake her head and turn away.

It wasn’t until Cel ran away that we had even begun to speak to each other. Rhos came to find me after my daily routine in a worry, frantically looking around for me before practically grabbing my arm. She pulled at me, speaking in frantic Romanian. After getting her to calm down, she looked up at me with her crystal blue eyes and said, “The Princess is missing.”

At first, I thought that I would be upset that she had lost my sister, but I knew if something was wrong, I would know. I just needed to find her. Celeste couldn’t handle herself, that’s why I was there, and that’s why Rhos was picked to watch over her.

Without another word, I immediately took flight, checking the places that we often frequented to come up short. Rhos was quick behind despite me wanting to lose her and leave her behind. It was her fault that Cel had gotten out of her sight, and I didn’t trust her to keep her close no longer.  It had become nightfall, and my wings were tired. If I kept on, I would surely fall from a height that would kill me.

Rhos and I eventually started to walk, ignoring her behind me. That didn’t last long because the girl kept dragging her feet.

“Seriously,” I growled, looking back at her, resting my hand against the hilt of my sword. She jumped at the sound of my growl before her eyes cast to the ground. “Pick up the pace, we don’t have time for this.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything else. I realized that I was being harsher than I intended, but it wasn’t as though she did anything to cause me to be nice to her. While she kept Cel company the days that I wasn’t there, it wasn’t like she did anything.

I soon noticed that my anger was misplaced. I let out a soft groan before I turned to her.

“When you last saw her, was there anything that was strange to you?” I said.

“No,” she said.

I let out a grunt, before she makes a sound.

“Actually, yes, she said that she wanted to make the flowers bloom! She was really interested in how the flowers bloomed at night.”

She wanted to know how the flowers bloom? I thought about it for a moment before I made a soft sound. Of course, Cel had found a tree back when we were kids near the water. Underneath the moonlight, the flowers near the water glowed at night, a glow that light that pathway and the ground and sent spores into the air.

Knowing that information, it didn’t take me long to find her. She was sleeping against the tree with a few flowers blossoming around her. If it was not for the soft breath that she took in, I would have thought that she was dead.

We stayed there for a moment, wordlessly watching before ewe finally woke her up and took her back. She curled against me and slept.

She never answered why she escaped that night, but whenever I talked about it, there was a slight fear in her eyes. I didn’t want to push the matter so I let it go.

I shouldn’t have and I regretted it.

Me and Aelfdane were sparring in the woods. It was intense, so much so that I was near out of breath. The armor that Aelfdane had me to wear this time was so overbearing that it slowed down my movements. He told me that it was to make me stronger – as was everything we did.

Just as I had geared to strike, Aelfdane glanced up towards sky, his eyes narrowing before he dashed off. I had called out to him, confused. I thought that it was a test, so I continued to fight on. The scream knocked me back, and the pulsewave that followed stripped the leaves of the trees and the water out of the river.  

I was disoriented, my ears ringing as I stared up at the sky. I don’t know if it was my head or a concussion that was beginning to form, but the sky had darkened into a murky gray whereas a few moments ago, it was clear and sunny. Suddenly, dark clouds had rolled in and the heavy rain soon followed.

I instantly knew that something was wrong.

I flew off towards the village, but as I came across the perimeter, the trees that had once surrounded it were barren, the homes built of wood and stone had scattered everywhere, and in the center of the destruction was my sister, unmoving.

I didn’t have the time to think about the destruction around me, or what had caused it. I simply walked over towards her, and checked her pulse, letting out a soft sigh of relief when I saw that she was still alive.

Pulling her out of the destruction wasn’t as hard as watching her wake up and see what she had done. I had never heard my sister cry like that, her words broken as she tried to rationalize what she had done. She had made our home uninhabitable. The people in it, had just disappeared. At least, that’s what I told myself.

I always knew that my sister had an innate ability to do something – what I never was certain of. But now, looking back at it. I knew. She was a supernova, waiting to happen, to wipe out all life within the radius. Where we lived, we could no longer return, our home had become uninhabitable.

Instead, we tried to find other outlets for us to live. When we couldn’t come to another conclusion, we decided to live with the humans. It had only been a year, and we couldn’t find a job that was better than what we were doing – prostitution. Doing so, didn’t bother me, if it meant that I got to see my sister smile again. But she was never the same after the incident. I don’t think that she ever will be.