#suddenly I was 8 years old again forced to go on a 3 hour sailing trip because 'you never know you might enjoy it'

[wallabywannabe]

I have 1 day left of the partial hospitalization program and I've learned a lot of skills and feel optimistic about managing my anxiety and depression.

I have also learned that I have nowhere near enough skills to cope with being part of a drum circle.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Shackled Chapter 10

Summary: After nearly ten years, Sam Winchester calls Miriam Bard to collect on a life debt. Unfortunately for Miriam, Sam leaves out a few important details.

WARNINGS CHANGE EACH CHAPTER, PLEASE CHECK EACH TIME. 

Warning: Show level violence, implied loss of family, grieving, depression, spiraling, cursing, mentions of Demon!Dean, emotional manipulation, mind fuckery, psychological manipulation, questioning one’s sanity, emotional exhaustion, suicide attempt, mention of previous suicide attempt.

Word Count: 3165

Author’s Note: Please read the warnings. PLEASE read the warnings. Thanks to @cracksinthewalls​ for the mega beta. Also, please read the warnings.

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY. 

In case you missed it: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 Masterlist

Chapter 10

Miriam didn’t know how long she’d been sitting on the bedside, staring at the gun clenched in her nerveless fingers. How did she get here? She'd been standing in front of Dean, reeling from the terrible truths he’d forced her to face, and then she found herself here.

In the unfamiliar, anachronistic setting of her room in the bunker, no sound except the barest whisper of the air system, Miriam was blurry and out of focus. She couldn’t feel the bed beneath her legs, the freezing floor under her feet. 

Was she even awake?

Doesn’t matter, she thought. Everything he’d said was true. He had seen right through every one of her denials and shattered all of her self-crafted delusions. She had failed everyone and everything of consequence to her. At this point, it no longer mattered how or why. She had nothing left but the pain.

She took in a slow, shaking breath through her nose, let it out through her mouth.

Setting him free was out of the question. She wasn’t going to beg him, compromise the last shred of self she had left making a devil’s bargain, and he knew it. Dean was right. She had one choice left to make, one more chance to get it right.

One way out.

She stood, legs moving of their own accord, and crossed the small room. She rested the gun on the rim of the sink, staring down at her fingers as they gripped the cold metal. One more breath, in then out, and she looked up into the mirror. 

Aaron’s face looked sorrowfully back at her. She drank him in, the rip of his loss tearing deeper. Her empty hand traced the lines of his forehead, his cheekbones, the nose their family had inherited from generations back on her mother’s side. When she met his gaze, she saw tears in his eyes as he raised his palm, and she pressed her hand to the image of his.

Her mind flashed back suddenly, and she was standing not in the bunker but in the rundown motel room she and Aaron had rented for that last hunt. She’d come back two weeks after his funeral with the desperate idea that she could find something he might have imprinted on, some object holding his spirit so she could conjure him, tell him to his face she knew how badly she’d messed up.

That she was sorry.

She’d stared into the mirror for hours, and he had stared right back, but she knew in her heart it wasn’t really her brother. The despair had swelled, risen to a crescendo, and she’d raised the gun, placed it to her temple, gone so far as to cock her weapon. She stood, shaking, staring in the mirror until her nerves and her hand failed her.

When the sun rose the next day, she unloaded her gun, shoved it to the bottom of her duffel, and didn’t look at it again until nearly a year later when Sam Winchester called in her blood debt.

Failure upon failure.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her own face was wet, cold, but she kept her hand pressed to the glass. “I love you.” Then Aaron was gone, and she was left in the empty room, her stricken reflection gazing back at her. Alone. 

Yeah, that makes sense, she thought. One last breath, in then out. I can do this. One last chance to get it right. 

She raised the gun.

Before she could draw back the hammer, a hand shot across her field of vision, closing around her wrist and pulling her around. The gun fell from her grip as she reflexively shoved at her attacker. She jerked to the side, her lips drawing back in a desperate snarl, and struck with her free hand again.

“Miriam, stop! It’s me!”

Sam’s frantic voice reached her through a storm of anguish, and she stilled in his grasp. He kept his hold on her forearm, his face flushed with confusion and dismay. They stared at each other, panting, for a long, loaded pause before Sam finally broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Maybe he was apologizing for leaving so much out before asking this of her. Maybe he was apologizing for asking this of her at all. Maybe he was expressing empathy at her whole situation. Whatever the reason, Miriam’s heart began to calm at his words. Her expression must have relaxed because Sam’s shoulders slumped as he let out a breath and released her arm.

“I called to check in before the priest started his ritual, and your phone went straight to voicemail. I got back here as fast as I could. What-”

Miriam drew back her fist, catching Sam across his cheek, snapping his face to the side. She felt this punch like she hadn’t felt any of the times she hit Dean, and it shocked her arm all the way up to her shoulder. It hurt like hell, and she felt relief spreading through her abdomen.

“We need to talk.”

Sam straightened and turned back to her, his face comically stunned. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before clamping his lips shut. His eyes clenched shut, and he sucked in a steadying breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his good hand. Then he opened his eyes and gave her a tense, tight-lipped smile. 

“Yeah. We do. Hungry?”

…

Neither of them knew the best place to start, so, as they began assembling some sandwiches, Miriam simply began updating Sam on everything that had gone down since his departure. She figured there wasn’t much point in hiding anything that had happened; Dean would probably tell Sam anyway, if for no other reason than to get under both their respective skins.

Recalling the order of events was difficult, she realized, and when she added up how little time had actually passed, she was shocked. 

It felt like at least a week, she thought. 

Sam managed to hold his tongue through her entire recounting, though his face had gone through the full spectrum of reds and purples when she’d told him about the nightmares. When she got to her very last encounter with his brother, Sam nearly cut off his finger along with the cheese he was slicing. 

The choking noise coming from his mouth didn’t do anything to alleviate her concern.

After he caught his breath and chugged down the glass of water Miriam provided, he and Miriam moved over to the long table, sitting side by side. Miriam didn’t know about Sam, but she didn’t particularly feel like making eye contact with the younger Winchester just now, even if his coloring was gradually returning to normal.

Though both of them needed the fuel, neither Sam nor Miriam seemed particularly inclined to eat.

“Your turn,” Miriam said, unable to stand yet another bout of long, uncomfortable silence. “You left me with zero clue and almost as little prep. What the hell, Sam, you and I are supposed to be the smart ones. What’s going on with Dean? This ritual?”

Sam’s eyebrows lowered, and he straightened, all set to put her off or argue, but he was cut off by the slam of her fist on the table. Their plates clanged, jittering dangerously close to the edge.

“Dammit, Sam, my life is literally on the line here! I don’t care about your bruised pride, I don’t care about your stupid secrets. You called me here, you exposed me to that demon with barely any warning at all. Tell me the truth, and don’t you dare try to bullshit me.”

She watched the wind drain from Sam’s metaphorical sails. His shoulders slumped as he propped his forehead up in his good hand.

“You’re right, of course you’re right. I’m sorry. Let me just...Okay, yeah. But it’s gotta be a summarized version, otherwise we’ll be here all night.”

He offered her a fragile half-smile, and though she didn’t return it, she relented enough to drop her scowl. 

“A while back, Dean got something called the Mark of Cain. Yes, the mark on his arm, and yes, the Cain. From the Bible. Long story very, very short. It ate away at him. Made him want, need to hurt, to kill. There was this old weapon, the First Blade, and we needed it to end this huge threat. And then…He...Dean died. I brought him back here, carried him…”

His voice trailed off, his lips working hard as his neck and shoulders tensed. He squeezed his eyes shut, and Miriam reached out, tentatively laying her hand on his arm. He huffed out a sharp breath and continued.

“And then he came back, but as a demon. He took off with...another demon, and they were gone for weeks. I hunted him, I never gave up on him. I...did some really terrible-”

Sam stopped, his lips pressed together so hard they turned white. He steeled himself and looked over, meeting Miriam’s eyes for the first time since they’d started talking. 

“I did what I had to, to get my brother back, and I will keep doing exactly that.”

There wasn’t much she could argue against that. She would have preferred more details about exactly what terrible things Sam had done, but Sam’s transgressions were irrelevant to their current situation. He would have to face his own consequences eventually, and her getting the dirty gossip now was not priority.

“So that mark on Dean’s arm more or less turned him into a demon,” Miriam asked, not sure what else to say.

Sam nodded, picking at the crust of his bread. “It was changing him even before he  died, but it brought him back. I’m not sure it will actually let him die,” he added. 

“And the ritual? How’d you even find out about it?”

Sam looked down at his plate again and sighed. “Okay, again, summary. We needed to cure a demon in order to complete a trial.” He held up a hand to forestall Miriam’s question, and she sighed.

“I told you, here all night. I don’t have that kind of energy right now. Anyway, we found out the Men of Letters had created a ritual to cure a demon without damaging the host body. I had to find a hospital with the right kind of priest, get the blood blessed. There’s a spell, and I have to inject Dean with the blood. It’s not the most pleasant way to spend a weekend, but it’s my only shot to get my brother back now.”

Sam let out his breath, rolling both of his shoulders back with a painful popping noise. He glanced over at Miriam again, chewing on the inside of his lip as if he were struggling with a decision.

“Miriam, I’m sorry. For all of it. I knew about Aaron, I should have thought…I just...It’s Dean, my brother. People are hurt because of me. I hurt...tortured. I tortured a lot of demons, but I had to. I couldn’t-”

“I get it, Sam. I get all of it, even leaving the admittedly big details out. I’m not happy about it,” she added, narrowing her eyes at him. He had the decency to look properly embarrassed. “And you’d damned well better not leave something that vital out again. But, then again, it’s not like I was one hundred percent honest with you, either. If I had been at all smart, I could have told you I was in no shape.”

“How are you now?” he asked. “How are you really?” 

“I’m...here,” she answered. “Dean really got into my head, like you said he would, but all that mess was there to begin with. He just...he knew how to stir it all up, knew exactly what to say to get me to react how he wanted. And I did.”

They sat for several moments, lost in the memories of their own transgressions. Sam finally let out a breath and stood. He rested his fingertips on the table, his injured arm fidgeting in the sling. His jaw clenched, tension in every line of his rigid stance.

“Miriam, I don’t know if this is going to work. I’ve only done this once before, and it definitely started to work then, but I didn’t get to finish the ritual. I already gave Dean the first dose before I came to find you, and he reacted differently than I was expecting. It’s going to take several more doses, but...look, I know I have no right to ask anything else of you…”

He trailed off, lips trembling as he pinched them shut. His eyes were shining suddenly, red-rimmed and small, and he looked terribly vulnerable. He glanced up at the ceiling, clearing his throat. Miriam’s heart twisted, and she stood, reaching out to lay her hand on his shoulder.

“We can back each other up,” she said, adding, “but I can’t be alone with him again.”

Sam shook his head, unable to meet her eyes. She continued.

“You need to know I wasn’t magically fixed when you stopped me firing that gun, Sam. I haven’t changed my mind. You need help, and that much I can do, as long as you’ve got my back. But after this, I’m done. With everything.”

Sam’s face was stricken as his fingers tightened around hers. “Miriam, you can’t-”

“It’s not your call, Sam. I’m not your brother; it’s not up to you to fix me.”

Sam flinched as if she’d struck him physically, but she didn’t relent, and eventually, he nodded, though reluctantly. She released his shoulder and busied herself clearing up the food neither of them had been able to stomach after all.

Time to face the music, she thought randomly. At Sam’s questioning glance, she nodded and followed him from the kitchen. They stopped just outside the dungeon, and Sam raised his eyebrows at her.

“Are you sure? After what you and he...you don’t have to go in here. I can…”

“You don’t know exactly what this treatment is doing to him, you said it yourself,” she reminded him. “You’re here now, he’ll have to split his focus. We’re stronger together. Let’s get this over with.”

Sam nodded, steeled himself, and stepped inside. Miriam followed suit; the moment she stepped through the door, though, she could feel a slight but palpable difference. The pull to go to Dean was diminished. The hunger she had to admit she still felt when she looked at him was duller, less fierce.

The demon in question also seemed a little more subdued, a little more cautious. Dean straightened from his tired slump, green eyes narrowing at the two of them. He frowned, evincing disapproval as he clicked his tongue at Miriam.

“You know, when I didn’t hear a gunshot, I thought maybe you’d just found a quieter way to do it. Figured somebody couldn’t possibly be that big a failure at absolutely everything, but here you are.”

Sam busied himself pulling a huge, blood-filled syringe from a cooler on the table as Dean continued to eye Miriam. She picked up the remaining flask from the table, making a mental note to ask Sam if he had more holy water stashed somewhere in the bunker. She unscrewed the cap and turned to face Dean.

“Or maybe you just need another push,” Dean said quietly. His eyebrows lowered as he smiled straight at her, leaning forward earnestly. “I could scratch that itch all day. Get rid of Sammy, here, and we can-”

She flicked the holy water in his face, and Sam went in with the needle as Dean flinched back. Her heart stuttered as Dean cursed and growled in pain, his breath coming in short, distressed bursts. His skin flushed, darker than the last time she’d splashed him. Sweat broke out across his forehead as he thrashed against the ropes, his tendons standing out harshly under his flesh.

“Sam…” Miriam started, but she didn’t know what warning she should give. The draw she felt from Dean was definitely less now, so the blood was doing something to the demon aspect of him. Dean didn’t look like he was being cured of anything, though. 

He looked like he needed help.

“I don’t know what else to do but keep going,” Sam whispered, half to himself. 

“You could start by letting me out of these goddamn cuffs,” Dean groaned, his head rolling back as he struggled to catch his breath. “You’re killin’ me here, Sammy.”

Sam started towards Dean, but Miriam grabbed his arm. He turned tortured eyes on her, but she shook her head, urging him silently towards the door. Dean might be genuinely in distress, but if what Sam told her was true, they couldn't do anything to help him except continue the treatment. 

Sam resisted for one more heartbeat before allowing himself to be led from the dungeon. Miriam resolutely shut the door behind them and turned to Sam.

“You did it. We did it. Now we’ve just got to do it another half dozen times or so.”

Sam snorted, running a shaking hand up his face and back through his hair. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“What now?” she asked. A yawn escaped her before she could stuff it down, and Sam paused, taking in her drooping frame and exhausted stance.

“I think somebody could use a nap,” he said with a tired smile. She raised her eyebrow sharply, and he held up his hand in mock surrender. “I know, I know, we both do. We’ll take it in turns. I’ll stay up while you sleep, then swap out.”

She hesitated, torn between the aching exhaustion wearing her down and the fear of what always came when she slept.

“Sam, I don’t want to ask this of you, but I…I already had nightmares, and since I came here, they’ve gotten worse. Could you...god, I feel so pathetic asking, but could you sit with me? Not on the bed or anything creepy, and I get it if you need to prep something else for Dean’s treatment, but…”

She stopped, breathed, and forced the words past the lump in her throat. “I need to not be alone right now.”

If Sam had done anything but nod and take her hand, Miriam was pretty sure she would have disintegrated from shame. Instead, he simply led the way back to her room and pulled a chair up beside the head of the bed.

He sat silently, eyes downcast as she splashed water on her face and let her hair down. Miriam kicked off her shoes with growing anxiety, but when she lay down on top of the covers and closed her eyes, she felt Sam’s rough, warm hand closed over her own.

“I get it, Miri. I’ve got your back.”

She fell straight into a dead sleep, and for the first time in a year, she didn’t have a single dream.

…

Chapter 11

[1-1snailxd-art]

The Shield to your Sword

Masterlist ———- Chapter 2

Warnings: injury, blood, physical abuse, emotional abuse (please message me if more need to be added)

word count: 6544

Tag Support Team - Thank you for your support 💜

@small-reptile-cake @daflangstlairde @quoth-the-sparrow @it-me-the-phi @soul-of-a-vixen  @the-real-wholesome-bitch  @phe-purple-parade-ts @littleladynightshade

Beginning Note: Hey 👋 so this chapter includes some art done by @fanartfunart (I’ve included a link below the image to see their Tumblr post). Now, please please please do not repost this art. This means, do not COPY and PASTE (or screenshot) it onto your own post on any social media channel. If you like the art, reblog the Tumblr post. Respect the artist and give them the love and appreciation they deserve

Summary: Chance meetings can be shocking but often play a big part. Patton makes a new friend that will change his life, while Virgil and Logan meet old friends that leave them thinking about the future.

______________________________

Chapter 3: A Deer Friend

- years prior - near a small farming village on the edge of the west forest -

 Brown curls shifted in the gentle breeze as the boy, not long turned 12, stood poised with his arrow aimed at a target ahead of him. Glass framed by wood assisted trained eyes in watching leaves shift with the wind; waiting for them to still before releasing the arrow.

"Dead centre again. Do you ever miss, Pat?"

 Patton lowered his bow and turned to his younger brother, Remy, who was marching up the track in his usual attire; grey shirt with a dark brown jacket pulled over the top. He craned his head to look behind his brother, brow furrowing in confusion.

 "Where's our little Quiver?" It was odd to see him without their youngest brother clinging to his back.

"Just Bow and Arrow today-" he extended his arms and looked down with a half-smile - " Sorry I'm not enough. Quiver was still sleeping when I came back from my chores."

Remy accepted the bow that Patton held out for him, discarding his leather satchel on the ground and continuing forward to retrieve the arrow from its hold.

"You are more than enough, Arrow." Hands now free, Patton removed his glasses and pulled his blue shirt from his belt to clean the glass. "Unusual for him to sleep so late though."

"Yeah, well, Mother said he is a little feverish, but there isn't anything to worry about." The arrow required only a slight wiggle to remove from the target and Remy inspected the tip while he walked back to Patton.

"Maybe I should go back and check on him."

"No! Please," Remy begged; racing forward to grab his brothers arm and stop him from leaving. "We hardly ever get to train alone anymore."

 Patton looked into his brother’s eyes; begging for their lost time alone. It dawned on him just how little time they had spent together lately as he selfishly allowed their youngest brother to participate in all their training sessions. With the farm requiring so much attention and Patton taking on extra work with a baker, moments for archery practice for the brothers were far and in-between. Sighing, Patton returned his glasses and neatened his shirt before nodding; Remy quickly setting himself up to take aim at the target. Though he still worried for his youngest brother, Patton had to trust Remy's word that nothing was wrong and give his sibling his full attention for at least a few hours.

  Their final arrow sailed past the target again and Remy threw the bow down in frustration; fixing the untouched target with a death glare.

"COME ON! Can't I do one thing straight in my life!"

Ruffling his hair, Patton moved forward to search for the discarded arrows. "Don't despair little, Arrow. You'll get there eventually.

Grumbling, Remy followed, and they  began sifting through the leaf litter to find arrows and fill Patton's signature quiver. Rustling caught their attention and Remy looked over his shoulder to see Patton standing before a magnificent, grey deer with blue patterning on its face. Their eyes seemed to be locked and neither flinched at Remy's approach; his own eyes wide in fear and awe.

 "It's beautiful," Remy whispered; resting a hand on his brothers back and leaning in close.

"A creature of magic," his voice was calm and confident as Patton reached a tentative hand out, encouraging the deer to move closer.

The blue marks on the deer's face shimmered in the sunlight that escaped the forests canopy, confirming Patton's suspicion of magic. While all creatures had soul magic like humans, some were also blessed with natural magic and served as spirit guides or assisted the seasons in changing. Though neither boy could read runes, the deer's colouring was enough for them to assume its connection to winter.

*Art by @fanartfunart Click for link to the post*

 Stretching its neck forward, the deer closed its eyes and lent into Patton's hand; fingers shifting in soft fur to scratch the creatures head. Patton could feel the soul magic in his fingers connecting with that of the animal; an icy but reassuring sensation ran up his arm and he felt his body heat and cool simultaneously. Eyes opening, Patton saw a rune glowing blue in the deer's eyes and Remy gasped as Patton's suddenly did the same.

"You're a sorcerer."

Patton looked at his little brother; their words had come out as barely a whisper, choked by fear. Eye's returning to normal, Patton realised he had been holding his breath and gasped; hand still on the deer's cold fur. Fear flooded the young boy’s eyes before he wrapped his arms tightly around Patton’s middle, hands slipping securely beneath the leather quiver on his back. The action snapped Patton's mind out of a trance, and he could finally release the deer to stroke his now sobbing brothers head.

"It's okay, Remy. I'm ok."

"No-o." He kept his face pressed against the faded blue fabric of his brother’s shirt, "They'll get you. You'll be taken away or-or-"

 Patton firmly grabbed Remy's shoulders and pushed him back, forcing them both into direct eye contact. His voice was firm but comforting all the same.

"Listen to me now, Remy. I am not going anywhere. Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise."

He waited until his brother nodded, before pulling him back into a hug; glancing to the side to watch the deer as it made its way back into the forest.

 Patton had always felt he was different, but never acted on his magic abilities; preferring to remain with his family on the farm. It was safer to avoid magic work, than admit he was something more and risk imprisonment by the King. The confirmation of his gift wasn't going to change anything in Patton's mind. He would always put his family before anything else in the world. Though his heart was in the right place, Patton should never have made that promise to Remy. You can't make a promise about something you can't control, and unfortunately the fates did not work in his favour.

   ************Present Day************

 When Virgil finally opened his eyes, he was both surprised and grateful to reach his right hand out to the sun rune clock and see the sun had been up for at least 5 hours. Adding to the fact that the next guard was on time for once, he had managed to get a full 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Carefully shifting into a sitting position, grunting as his body protested to the movement, Virgil looked around the room. The chambers were designed to house the staff of visitors to the castle; beds with a chest at the foot and lockable cupboards lined the walls. Only the corner where Virgil slept had the addition of a small desk, an open shelf and a larger cupboard for his clothes.

His eyes caught on a savoury muffin sitting on top of his side drawers; a smile pulling at his lips reading the note from Roman. Hope you got some beauty sleep. Father has requested my presence all morning, so can we meet at the spell crafters after noon? Enjoy the muffin curtesy of Val. - Roman

 He made short work of his breakfast, before carefully making his way to the communal bathrooms. Stepping into a small cubicle, Virgil removed his clothes and the now useless bandages; runes gone now the magic had run its course. Despite the ache in his chest, it wasn’t surprising for Virgil to find his torso clear of bruising; it was the area he had focused majority of his soul magic throughout the evening and he was rewarded with his abuse hidden. The same could not be said for his arm as it throbbed when stray droplets of water ran down as he washed his hair; bruising ringed the stitched wound, a swirling mix of blue, purple and green. As much as he hated it, he knew he would have to see Haefen again for some ointment or potion to reduce his pain enough for him to train like normal.

 Fully clothed, Virgil set off down the halls to reach the kitchens; stomach hardly satisfied with his meagre breakfast. As the kitchens neared, the halls were filled with the lingering scent of the mornings bread and fried meat. Pace quickening, Virgil gasped in shock and pain as he rounded the corner and bumped into what appeared to be a woman with greying hair and a simple purple gown.

“Oh dear, pardon me - Virgil?”

Pain faded to the back of his mind as Virgil realised who stood before him.

“Adara!” Instinctively, he pulled them into an embrace; half thankful that they appeared to sense his injury and favoured his right side. “It’s been nearly 4 years. I’ve missed you.”

Leaning back, Adara reached up to caress Virgil’s cheek. “My little boy has grown into a fine young man.” Their hand trailed down to rest on his chest, eyes saddening at Virgil’s instinctive reaction to flinch. “Is it fair to assume Rupert has not gotten kinder in my absence?”

“It’s fine, Adara." He grabbed their hand and gently lowered it, "You needn’t concern yourself over my wellbeing anymore.”

 Despite Virgil’s words fire burned in their eyes. Adara had served in the nursery, assisting the Queen in caring for Roman, and then Virgil when the Queen took him in as well. They shared their chambers with the orphan boy and were just as much of a parental figure as the Queen. Though they were cast out of the castle after confronting the King about Virgil's harsh treatment; making their presence in the city bittersweet.

 "I will never stop caring for my boys. Either of you."

"And it's almost cost you your life." Virgil held them out at arm’s length, concern thick in his voice. "How and why are you even here now? You were banished from the city."

"It's fine, sweetie." The anxious look in his eyes told them he was not convinced. "I snuck one of my young wards in for treatment with Haefen. We'll be out of the city in no time. Trust your old Bibi knows what they are doing."

"Last time I trusted you, I had to watch you leave."

 Silence fell between them and eye contact was lost in favour of the stone floor. Adara knew they could not argue with the truth; they truly had failed Virgil that day and quite possibly made the boy’s situation worse. It was never her intention, but nothing could change it now. The damage had been done.

"I'm sorry; you are right. I should have been more cautious with my words and actions." Looking up, Adara tried to find Virgil's eyes again; easy thanks to his new height. "I swear I will be careful not to make my presence known to the wrong parties. Okay?”

Nodding, Virgil pulled them close for a final hug. “Stay safe.”

“Same goes for you,” A single tear trailed down their cheek, “take care of yourself.”

“I do my best, but you should go.” Stepping back, they each swiped the tears from their faces. “Your window for leaving undetected will be small.”

“Seek me out one day, won’t you? I would love to see both my boys again.”

“Roman should be granted more freedom outside of the city soon. I’m sure we could make a detoured journey one day.”

“I look forward to it. Until then,” Virgil stepped around them, feeling his legs begin to shake from exhaustion and needing to encourage Adara to leave. “I love you, young one.”

“I love you too, Adara.” Thankful he had managed to have his back to his parental figure, Virgil hurried along to reach the kitchens and find food to stop his body from trembling.

 It tore at their heart to head in the opposite direction of Virgil, but Adara knew they had no choice. They had hoped to avoid running into either of their old wards, but the fates had never been kind. Haefen had already warned that King Rupert wasn’t growing kinder with time, but that still hadn’t prepared them. The pain in his eyes. The way his body instinctively tensed before softening. Years of working to gain the boys trust, only to lose him to the abusive King; the equivalent of training a timid rabbit to be brave and then leaving it with a pack of wolves. There was much that Adara regretted in their life but going to the King instead of the Queen was one of their greatest regrets. Things may have been different if that path had been followed.

  ********************

 Logan packed away their medical equipment after ensuring it was completely sanitised. The infirmary was much quieter now the knights had left; their laughing and ridiculous jokes about maiming each other made the young physicians blood boil. Working in the infirmary was the worst part of their day and they much preferred to work with their father. Nothing against the other physicians, they were just as skilled as Haefen, but the space didn’t have the same feel as their home. The general infirmary was an open space with rows of beds and trolleys loaded with rune bandages and pre-prepared potions; while their home was compact and allowed them access to personalised runes and supplies for mixing their own potions. It felt better to work in their own environment, but to be considered more than an apprentice they needed to be observed by people other than their mother and father.

 “Skilful work this morning, Logan.” A tall woman with cropped blond hair walked over; placing their own equipment into the nearby sink to begin rinsing them off. “Your stitching is immaculate, and I honestly have nothing to fault you on today.”

“Thank you, Tate. It was a rather average morning; hardly an opportunity to develop my skills further.” Packing their satchel, Logan was surprised to find Tate frowning at them.

“Until you have experienced the harshness of the field, do not complain about the mundanity of my infirmary. Do we have an understanding?”

 Logan was tempted to comment on the number of broken people they had seen in their home, but they knew it wouldn’t compare to the true nature of field work. Only Haefen’s stories gave them a glimpse into the intensities of working from limited supplies in an unsanitary area.

“My apologies. I didn’t intend for my comments to cause offence.”

“You are still young, Logan-“

“I’m twenty-one.”

“That is young. You are but a toddler in the area of medicine; regardless of how much your parents have taught you. Be thankful for what the fates have given you; for they could take it all away without a moment’s notice. Peace is not to be taken for granted.”

They stifled the urge to roll their eyes, nodding and ducking their head instead. “I understand and I shall be more considerate when I return tomorrow. May I be excused for the day?”

“You may. See you tomorrow, Logan.”

 Leaving the infirmary, Logan sighed and hoped that this wasn’t as peaceful as the city would be. If peace meant people could be beaten without consequence, then they didn’t want it. Stepping outside, the sunlight warmed their face as they headed around the castle to reach their house. Taking the outside route was much more pleasant than using the castles inner halls. The linking inner halls were wonderful during harsh winters but came across as suffocating during the seasons that offered clearer skies. A smile easily spread across their face as they spotted Virgil exiting the castle from the opposite side of the courtyard. They eagerly quickened their pace to intercept him, curious to find out how they had responded to yesterday’s treatments.

 “Good day to you, Virgil.”

Tired eyes looked up at the sound of their voice. “I appreciate your optimism, Logan. You here to cash in your truth?”

“What? No.” They tried to hide the hurt in their voice at Virgil’s accusation. “I just finished work in the infirmary and saw you. I wasn’t seeking you out or anything.”

Sensing their hurt, Virgil felt guilty for making such a judgement against the man who had freely healed him on multiple occasions. “Sorry, Lo. I’m just tired. I didn’t mean to-“

“How much sleep did you have?”

“What? Um, 8 hours, I guess. Look, I -“ Logan stood in front of Virgil and took hold of his wrist to feel his pulse; staring at his pupils’ reactions. “What are you doing?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Obviously. I’m not a-“

“Have you taken any relievers this morning?”

“Not yet, but it’s fine I-“

“Nope. Let’s go.”

Logan wasn’t having any of Virgil’s stubbornness that morning; practically dragging him around to the back of their chambers. It was jarring for Virgil; he had never seen Logan acting so forcefully; but he guessed it had something to do with the fact that his injuries were more serious than a bruised face or fractured wrist.

 Haefen hardly appeared surprised when Logan entered with Virgil in tow.

“Considering the significant lack of blood, am I safe in assuming this is a potion visit?”

“Hey, Haefen.” Virgil took a seat diligently, while Logan started grabbing various jars and vials from the shelf and setting water to boil. “I would answer your question, but I just came along for the ride.”

“Father, can you inspect Virgil's injuries while I craft a reliever for him? I believe he used more magic than we initially predicted.”

Virgil shook his head and rolled his eyes as Haefen grabbed his wrist and stared at him just as Logan had earlier. “I think you are overreacting. I’m just tired and sore. Nothing exactly ground-breaking going on-what is that for?”

The large needle in Logan’s hand had Virgil’s eyes widening, causing Haefen’s face to contort in concern.

“Logan’s correct. Shirt off now, I need to assess some things.”

“You still haven’t explained the needle,” he grumbled; carefully removing his vest and shirt.

“It was to prove a point,” Haefen assured; hardly shocked to see his chest clear and moving to help unwrap his arm. “Though you showed a concerned reaction to the needle, your heart rate remained unnervingly low.”

 In the few hours since he had woken, the gash on Virgil’s arm had healed further. The sutures were beginning to breakdown as his body used the natural magic held within them and they were no longer necessary to secure the wound shut. It still astounded both physicians, regardless of how many times they had witnessed his healing ability.

Logan held a mug out to Virgil, “Drink. The temperature should be balanced enough that it won’t burn you.”

Accepting the mug, Virgil did his best to ignore the discomfort of having Haefen’s hand resting on his chest; soul magic searching for injuries and making his chest tingle and burn. Raising the mug to his lips, he was expecting the warm concoction to be bitter and earthy like everything else Logan had mixed before; instead his tastebuds were overwhelmed with a confusing mix of spice and sweetness that had his chest convulsing in coughs.

“Woah,” Haefen took the mug from Virgil’s hand before any of the liquid could spill. “Take it easy.”

Logan sniggered before quickly jabbing Virgil’s arm with a small needle.

“Wha-da-f-k?” He finally managed to gasp out, frustrated by the grins that were now on both physicians faces.

“I know you don’t like needles, so I thought a distraction was necessary. Was it effective?”

“No!” Leaning back heavily against the chair, Virgil felt like his chest had been pierced by one of his flaming arrows. “I feel worse now than before you dragged me here.”

Haefen pulled out a familiar vial of blue, which Virgil accepted gratefully. “I am satisfied this process will restore your natural heart rhythm. Though I would advise you against any crafting or magic practice today. Logan’s assessment was correct, your soul magic is what caused your unusual rhythm. To be frank, most people I have come across with that little magic are unconscious.”

“Shall we add that to the list of reasons why I’m not normal?” Virgil was glad to feel the burning subside as the normal potion seemed to work its way through his system. “By the way, was there any benefit to that first potion or were you just messing with me?”

Logan’s face was serious as they wrapped a fresh bandage around his arm.

“Everything I do has a benefit, Virgil. Not only did that brew act as a distraction, it also encouraged the production of soul magic and included a herb combination that will either improve your energy levels or…” Both Virgil and Haefen raised their eyebrows expectantly as Logan secured the bandage in place and stood to wash their hands. “You could…potentially… respond to it like a mild sedative.”

“What do you mean potentially?” Virgil stood and followed Logan to the sink, ignoring the way his body swayed slightly as he stood beside them. “How can herbs have two vastly different effects?”

“The body is a very complex system and we have already established that you don’t respond to situations as we would expect.”

“I can’t be sedated. I’m meeting Roman at-t noo-“

All sense of space left Virgil as his mouth failed to cooperate and his eye lids grew heavy; swaying dangerously as his body numbed. Sighing, Logan pulled his arm over their shoulder and led him to a bed; carefully guiding him to lay down.

 “I shall make a note that Virgil is among the 3% who react to the Dye-Smith combination negatively.” Logan turned to look at their father, a hint of fear in their eyes. “How angry do you think he will be when he wakes up?”

A comforting hand rested on their shoulder. “I would suggest you go out collecting after completing your chores.”

“I concur.”

   ********************

  Roman was glad to finally be pardoned from the meeting room as the sun reached its midpoint; mind already forgetting half of what had just been discussed about relations with Pixma and Xican. The only thing he took away from the morning was that he was finally granted permission outside the city unaccompanied; meaning he and Virgil could ride without having a group of knights trailing behind them. Others took note of the obvious spring in the Prince’s step as he headed towards the spell crafting area; quickly moving out of his path and smiling supportively.

 The crafting area was a visual wonder, a stone wall built around a large tree with a low, umbrella canopy forming a roof. Crafting runes required natural magic, pulled from the earth and fused with materials using soul magic. While natural magic was present in all places, it was easier to access at a focused location known as a source point; the crafting tree being one such point in the city.

Roman barely acknowledged the waiting patrons as he strolled passed, only registering that none of them were Virgil before continuing to head straight into the space. Faces dropped after Roman passed them, knowing they would have to wait even longer for their needs to be met with the Prince’s presence.

 Squeezing his eyes shut as he was allowed through the main door, Roman blindly stepped through a black curtain before slowly reopening his eyes and allowing them to adjust to the new light. The crafting area of the inner wall was the largest source point in the area, with plentiful space for multiple crafters to be set up with their individual crafting crystals around the tree and small pond. Bioluminescent fungus and moss filled the area with a soft rainbow hue, while fireflies and glowing moths danced through the air and distracted his sight as he searched for Virgil.

 A short, old man carefully stepped past the Prince as he finished with one of the furthest crafters; a round faced woman with wavy, brown hair that rested on the ground where she sat. Heart sinking slightly as he realised Virgil wasn’t there, Roman advanced to sit in the newly vacant position.

“Pleasure to see you, Vivian.” He beamed, trying to hide his true sadness.

“Honour to be of service, my Prince.” Vivian lowered a reed pen into the water; tiny glowing fish swarmed the pen to clean it of ink and magic. “I’m assuming we are touching up your current runes?”

 Though he nodded, in truth, Roman had hoped to craft teleportation runes in anticipation for his first unsupervised missions. Unfortunately, he relied heavily on Virgil’s assistance when it came to runes and without him, he couldn’t possibly visualise the rune he needed; and he wasn’t about to admit his inabilities to Vivian. Thankfully, repowering current runes meant he had the rune already available and visualisation was simple.

Retrieving his belt, sash and wrist guards from his satchel, Vivian dried her hands and pen before dusting  off the crystal slab and inspecting the runes they would be making.

“Seems you have gotten good ware from these runes, your highness. It shows exceptional control on your behalf.”

“Thank you, Vivian.” Roman glanced around the space again, the beauty having no calming effect as he wondered where Virgil was.

“Is there a problem, Prince Roman?” Worry caused Vivian’s brow to crease as one of the guards eyed their area at the sight of the Prince’s discomfort.

“My apologies, I was expecting to meet Virgil and I guess I’m a little distracted by his absence.”

“Oh,” relief filled Vivian’s chest as she realised Roman’s issue had nothing to do with her. “I’m sure he isn’t too far away. These runes should take no time at all to strengthen and you can be on your way. Let’s start with the collection on your belt.”

 Trusting their word, Roman adjusted his sitting position and placed one hand on the crystal while the other hovered above the reed pen in Vivian’s hand. The crystal began to glow a soft green as Vivian pulled natural magic up from the earth; eyes closed, and mind focused on the purpose of the runes she had to write. Simultaneously, Roman pushed his soul magic forward, warming his hand as he channelled it into the reed pen in a soft yellow stream. Moving his magic was easy but focusing on the rune shapes was a challenge for the Prince; the pen in Vivian’s hand moving slowly as their magic and visions combined to form each rune. After the golden letters were formed, Vivian placed the belt on the crystal and the golden runes shifted, slotting into place on the belt with a flash before dulling to black.

Roman let out a quiet sigh, glad to see that the runes matched perfectly and hadn’t failed.

 “Shall we move onto your sash?” Vivian questioned, noticing the slight shift in the prince’s demeanour.

Nodding, Roman prepared for the next set of runes; hoping Virgil would arrive before the session was over.

  ********************

 Screams filled the darkness and Virgil felt nothing but fear. He had no idea who the screams belonged to, where they were coming from or why they made him feel so sad and alone. No matter how many times he dreamt about them, he couldn't remember anything about them. The darkness shifted and a knew memory filled his mind.

  Useless outsider!

 Strong hands pushed the teenage Virgil to the ground.

  Don’t you dare cry in my presence!

 A callused hand scraped across a slightly older face with such force that his body crumbled to the ground.

  Remember your place!

 Staring in a mirror with blood running from his nose, Virgil squeezed his watering eyes shut to escape the image only to open them and see King Rupert’s boots in front of his kneeling form.

  If you can’t do your job properly…

 A leather boot met his face and his body was instantly knocked backwards. When his eyes opened a stone weight was held over his chest.

  … don’t bother living.

 Reliving the pain of having the weight dropped on his chest was unbearable and Virgil found himself crying out as he jolted back into consciousness. Heart pounding in his ears and whole-body trembling, it took him a moment to realise the pain was only a phantom memory and the discomfort in his chest was from his rapid breathing.

“Are you okay, kiddo?”

Haefen was quite shaken from his patient’s sudden outburst, but the only answer he received was a mumbled “Roman” as Virgil was on his feet and heading out the door. By the time he poked his own head out the back door, the young man was already running towards the crafting area.

  Nightmarish memories were nothing new for Virgil; the main reason he worked himself into exhaustion was to avoid having them at all.

  The only reason I haven't locked you up is because you serve a purpose to my son. If you can’t do your job, don’t bother living.

 King Rupert’s words seemed to reverberate in his mind, only quieting as the crafting area came into view. The guards at the door caught sight of Virgil's rapidly approaching form and shared a knowing grin; preparing themselves for him to ask permission to enter and they could have some fun tormenting him. Their games didn't come to fruition as they were left stunned when he didn't even acknowledge their presence; pushing straight past them to enter the crafting area. A few waiting patrons turned away to hide their grins as the guards looked behind them as the doors swung closed; questioning each other on whether they should actually follow him or not.

  Roman sighed in relief when he saw Virgil approaching just as Vivian finished packing up his satchel. Concern quickly took its place as he registered the vacant look in his friends tear rimmed eyes; breathing more laboured than it should have been, even if he had just run from his chambers.

"Virgil? What's wrong?" Roman was on his feet; ignoring the stares around him as he grabbed onto Virgil's shoulders to try and steady him.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Virgil shook his head and tried to compose himself as he suddenly became aware of the watching eyes. "no-nothing...jus-. Late...sorry."

He tried to continue forward towards Vivian, but Roman's grip didn't loosen and even without eye contact, Virgil knew the Prince's eyes were assessing him with concern.

"We're leaving."

"Wha- no."

Tears threatened to spill from Virgil's tired eyes as Roman let go to grab his satchel from Vivian's outstretched hand; his skin felt ice cold without the touch and his hands started to shake. Fists clenching in frustration, Virgil was about to argue when Roman grabbed hold of his right hand and started to pull him out of the crafting area.

  When the Prince gives you an instruction, you follow it! Do I make myself perfectly clear?

 Virgil hated the fact that Rupert's voice entered his mind again in that moment. He was torn between allowing Roman to lead him away or forcing him to stay and continue crafting. Logically they should have stayed and crafted, but his heart screamed for solitude with Roman. Technically it was Roman's wish to leave; he only hoped all onlookers would see it that way as well, and not that Virgil had distracted the Prince from his duties.  Feet moving diligently, the pair were soon moving quickly through the inner city and towards the Queen's gardens.

  Filthy outsider. You are nothing but a useless farm boy the Queen took pity on. Nothing more.

   Roman may have been ignorant of many things, but he had seen that vacant look in Virgil's eyes too many times to ignore it. As they reached the back of his mother’s garden that disguised the inner wall, Roman carefully parted a manicured bush and encouraged Virgil to continue past him to the secluded hideaway they had made as children. The bushes came back together seamlessly and Roman had hold of his friends trembling hand again as they walked around the back of a massive old oak stump; hollowed and coated in moss and vines.

 Safe from prying eyes, Virgil allowed himself to relax; body shaking with sobs as he finally allowed his held tears to fall and Roman pulled him close. Fists pushed briefly at Roman’s chest, before Virgil accepted the hold; head resting on his shoulder as he let his hidden emotions rise back to the surface.

"I've got you, Virge," Roman whispered, slowly guiding them down to sit on his lap in the hollowed oak. "You're safe with me."

 Virgil knew Roman believed his words. He truly thought that he was safe with him. In the past, those words were a form of comfort from Adara, Queen Alexandra and Roman. Back then, his nightmares were only from the lost memories of his past and the battle he had been saved from. It had become almost routine for Roman to sneak into Virgil's bed to comfort him when he woke gasping and sobbing uncontrollably when their carers weren't nearby. Even after he left the nursery to live with Adara and then on his own, Virgil never spent long alone following a nightmare. Roman almost had a sixth sense for when his friend needed him, and many evenings he would wake to find the Prince appearing in the doorway and ready to comfort him. Virgil craved that comfort and feeling of safety when his lost memories hit; but when King Rupert was involved, he only felt more guilty sitting in Roman's arms. Lying to his friend was harder in these moments of weakness. He wanted to be honest with him but the light in Roman was too precious to lose, so he remained clinging to the white fabric of his friend’s clothes; mind in a state of emotional turmoil.

   ********************

 The forest outside of the city was bursting with colour and a sense of life as Logan left the common trails in search of herbs. Their usual slim glasses replaced with large squares of glass with wooden frames; black cloak shielding them from the light shower that had blessed the area with a fresh earthy scent. Eyes scanned the ground and tree trunks for any signs of useful plants or blooms that could be collected and tested.

 Screwing the lid on a sample jar, Logan inspected the cuttings they had placed inside; curious about the blue colouring that had appeared on a normally white flower. The shifting of undergrowth caught their attention and they turned to spot a grey deer with blue runes marking its face.

"Hello, Spirit, my old friend," Logan smiled; slipping the jar into the satchel and calmly approaching the deer.

The creature showed no fear as they approach, stepping closer to meet the human halfway; lowering its head to allow Logan to begin scratching behind its ears the moment they were close enough.

"I feared your safety after such a long absence," blue animal eyes blinked at Logan; head tilting slightly in apology. "I am glad to see you appear safe. May I inspect your health?"

Bowing its head in agreeance, Spirit allowed them to walk around and inspect their body; pausing at a small cut on their hind leg.

"It appears you have been in a bit of a scrape." They wasted no time in retrieving a premade ointment and rune cloth from their satchel. "Won't be a moment."

 Healing animals wasn't a conventional use of healing magic, but Logan enjoyed working with the deer. They had met Spirit years prior when they found them with an arrow stuck in their shoulder; spending hours with them before finally being able to heal the wound. Ever since, Logan had come across the animal regularly when they were out collecting for their father. The runes on Spirit's face a clear sign of their status as a spirit animal and translated to ice or snow. Logan was fascinated and excited by the relationship they had formed over the years; they couldn't understand why such an honourable creature would be interested in them, but savoured it nonetheless.

 "There you go, Spirit," Logan stood and admired the healed leg, "Not even a mark." Spirit turned and nuzzled Logan's chest, almost knocking them over with the force of their affection.

"Take it easy," a laugh effortlessly escaped them as they wrapped their arms around the creature’s neck and snuggled the soft fur with their cheek. "It is my pleasure to serve you."

Stepping away, Spirit looked around before bounding over to a patch of green ground cover; eyes glowing with blue, natural runes as they bowed their head to touch the patch with the tip of their nose. A grin spread across Logan's face as they watched frost coat the plant and golden buds grew and bloomed before their eyes.

"Frost lilies!"

As Spirit stepped back, Logan knelt and quickly collected the flowers in a sample jar. After the jar lid was secured, Spirit lent forward again and froze the jar with a tap of their nose.

"These will be most valuable for my father and I," Logan scratched the deer behind its ear as they stood. "Thank you very much for this gift. These will be invaluable in crafting my new treatment for internal injuries and muscular bruising."

They had been working on new remedies for a while, and with King Rupert's increased aggression they feared they would be testing it sooner rather than later.

Logan looked sadly at the deer as they spoke, "Virgil may be in need of more support than magic alone. I worry about him, Spirit." The deer moved closer; eyes just as sad as Logan's. "I fear I may not find him in time one day."

 Wind rushed through the area and Logan shielded their eyes as leaves and dust blew past their face. When their eyes opened, they were shocked to see tears slip from the deer's eyes; slightly frosted and shimmering like small jewels.

"Spirit?" Logan gently swiped the tears from the creature’s eyes; heart aching at the pure sadness they saw within them. "Your empathy will never cease to amaze me, my friend. You do not know Virgil and yet you cry for him. Perhaps you could meet him one day. I'm sure Virgil would appreciate you as much as I do."

Another tear slipped from the deer's eye and Logan quickly brushed it away before Spirit started backing away from their touch.

"I assume it is time for you to be on your way. I hope to see you with happier news soon."

Spirit bowed their head once more before sprinting back into the depths of the forest, leaving Logan alone once more. The satchel was cold against their leg as the frozen sample jar chilled the leather, making them aware of the passing of time as they continued to watch the horizon where Spirit had vanished. They always felt lost after the spirit animal left; like a piece of them was taken by the creature every time. It wasn't until the howl of wolves echoed through the trees that they found their feet again and started to make their way back towards the main track for the city.

______________________________

Next Chapter 

End Note

Also, I really hope you liked the art and please don’t forget to check out @fanartfunart and give them some love for the lovely art of Patton and Remy. They do amazing artwork and stories of their own. Well worth taking a scroll down through their Tumblr page 😊 

I really can’t give a timeline on when the next chapter will be done. I need to get some less angsty ideas to fill in a bit of a gap I have in the story and I don’t really have anyone to bounce ideas off sooooo gotta wait for inspiration to hit me in the face. 

Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you have a lovely time zone 💜🐌

New characters appeared!

Patton ‘Bow’ Finn: he|him pronouns; eldest son of Mia and Larsen Finn; father disappeared after youngest brother was born; took on the father figure role for his brothers; works on the family farm and helps a local baker for extra gold; skilled archer and basic healer (using only herbs and not magic); always carries his archery gear around ‘just in case’; decorated his quiver with a crest to represent his brothers. 

Remy ‘Arrow’ Finn: he|him pronouns; middle child (three year gap between both his siblings); is short for his age; makes braided bracelets and sells them at the market; helps Patton as much as he is able; hasn’t been able to master archery at all; keeps a length of fabric tied around his middle and uses it to cover his eyes for ideal daytime napping in the forest; is jealous of how much attention Patton gives Quiver now he is older. 

______________________________

What else has Snail done?

The Perfect Ring (oneshot -analogical proposal)

You Promised (oneshot - prinxiety angst/injury/near death)

Sides of a Hero (Completed Fic - sides are fusions of impulses and aspects of Thomas. Virgil has a depressing past that he is forced to face thanks to Deceit and Rage. Was canon compliant at the time of completion)

Libraries are for Meetings (ongoing WIP - Human/University au with Royality and developing Analogical. Slow burn and heavily focused on a grieving group of friends that Virgil slowly becomes a part of to better himself.)

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles . Always happy to interact and chat on that blog too 💜🐌

[nananora]

So recently I spent two and a half weeks traveling all over Greece with 30 super cool people. You probably saw it on my instagram/snapchat/facebook. This blog post is here to fill you in on what little squares and limited characters can’t. Hang on tight, this will be a long read and a virtual ride! Opa!

I came into this EF College break nervous. I was going alone, and it was my last big adventure before adulthood would begin. The twelve year old in me was suddenly nervous about having to be in a swimsuit a lot around complete strangers, and also wondered if these strangers would even LIKE me. At all. But it was apparent shortly upon arrival that I really had no need to worry. After a super long day of travel, starting at 3 am California time and ending at 10 am the next day in Athens, I was exhausted but excited. And when I met everyone, from all over, with different careers and backgrounds and stories I had yet to learn, I couldn’t help but smile and hope that we would become the family our tour guide Daphne promised we would by the end of the trip. That first day in Athens consisted of bonding by the rooftop pool and bar, learning names and faces before heading out to our welcome mixer, by taking the subway system which was a comforting reminder of the muni trains, but cleaner and with the potential to be pickpocketed… Dinner was delicious, although the wine was a little meh. Our fabulous tour guide Daphne then told us where we could go out, but I took my sleepy butt home to the hotel for a much needed 8 hours of sleep. My roommates came in later in a quiet manner to my apparent snoring (sorry Abbie and Alexa, I know you miss my snora ing)

The next day we woke up for an amazing complimentary breakfast, which for me was a lot of mini croissants and nutella. The Greeks LOVE their nutella. I wasn’t mad about it. We then went on a guided walking tour to see the sights of Athens. We began at the Greek parliament, and I got to watch the changing of the guards, which was a truly emotional experience for me. Before I left, my grandpa had told me that one of my grandma’s favorite things in Greece was watching the guards in their flamboyant outfits, and I understood why after watching their intricate tassle footed movements. We then moved on to the Temple of Zeus which looked pretty much like you expect ruins to look: old, tan, pillars, that kind of make your jaw drop at their persistent existence through the years. We moved on to the main show: The Acropolis. It was giant and gorgeous, albeit a little less than picturesque due to current renovations because they’ve got to make sure the entire thing doesn’t totally fall apart thousands of years later. Basic stuff. It was a humbling reminder of how small we all are in the grand scheme of things, standing at the top of a hill, overlooking a city where democracy, philosophy, and math all began. We then boarded our overnight “ferry” to the island of Crete. I put ferry in quotes because it was basically a cruise ship: giant, with two restaurants and bars, and rooms containing showers, mirrors and charging stations. I’m weird and movement rocks me to sleep, plus the jet lag was still strong so I slept like a happy little bebe until I woke up when we arrived in Crete.

Crete was a beautiful island, and a great place to start our journey through the islands. Full of winding streets, cobble stones, friendly stray dogs, and an awful traditional alcohol that was forced on us more than I’d like, Chania, the first port city we explored was charming AF. I befriended a scragly tan mutt, and named him Murphy. He followed me around all day, then found me again the next night and stayed by my side. He was a dog full of character that melted my heart. He actually responded to Murphy by the time we left, and I miss him dearly. The next day we drove to the city of Heraklion. Full of upscale American shops, a gorgeous “castle” and a fascinating archeological museum that charted the origin of the myths of the labrinth and the minotaur, it was a fine city for a day. Regretfully, I left my favorite pair of jean shorts at a hotel there and had to accept the goodbye.

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The next morning we took a ferry to the stunning island of Santorini. We were told upon arrival at our hotel to put on our best outfits in order to take the best pictures. We explored the streets of Santorini, enjoyed a beautiful wine tasting overlooking the ocean from the top of a hill, and then had dinner with an incredible view of the sunset over the water. It was pricey, but paying for that view was worth it. Plus I had some damn good mushroom risotto. The next day we spent on a boat going to several different small islands. The first was volcanic, but I decided to forgo the hike up it because I’d been there done that at a prettier place in Hawaii, and because it was ridiculously hot. Sorry not sorry. The next stop was in the ocean, that turned into a hotspring. The water changed temperature, the smell of sulfur was prevalent, and we got to play with mud that’s good for your skin. The last stop was at a touristy island, with some of the clearest waters I’ve seen in my life. I had an incredible 2 euro gyro that was mildly life changing. Then we took the boat back to the hotel, cleaned up, and went to “A Big Fat Greek Wedding Show.” Essentially a theater troupe put on a wedding, and we were all guests. We met the family, ate some delicious mezedes, danced, and broke plates. It was so much fun! After we took in the nightlife of Santorini by hitting up some clubs, and then took the bus back around 2 am. The breakfast in Santorini was one of the best. Breakfast at each hotel was included for us, but the spread and the coffee in Santorini was one of my favorite. For day three, we spent time relaxing on a black sand beach, where I drank some delicious sangria and ate these amazing croquettes with fresh pesto. I’m an ambivert, which means I am a mix of introvert and extravert. So I took some me time after the beach to go shopping. Shout out to Natalie at Spicy Boutique Santorini for being the best personal stylist ever. She hand picked pieces that would look best on me, gave honest opinions, and a ten percent discount. I never looked or felt better than I did after leaving that store with three gorgeous new dresses.

The next morning we said goodbye to Santorini and headed to the party island of Ios. There I finally got laundry done, at some great pizza, drank too much vodka, and walked out of a club as the sun was rising. That’s because the clubs don’t get going till 3 am there. I went to an Alice and Wonderland themed silent disco, called Shush Bar Ios and it was SO MUCH FUN. There were three different color coded stations: r and b, dance, and top 40 and so everyone could jam out to the same or different songs all at once. There was also a super great Irish themed bar that I ended up in both nights. Not gonna lie to y’all, I danced on a lot of make shift tables and bar stools. I have no regrets. What happens on the islands, stays on the islands (unless I decide to share it in a blog post) #whoops. After such a late night I spent the next day in Ios sleeping on the beach, resting up for an even crazier night out that I remember most of. A guy told me I wasn’t pretty enough for a free shot, I desperately needed a croissant, a guy asked me four separate times to go home with him, I swerved him very hard, and somehow I ended up eating a gyro, getting home via cab and sleeping a full 3 hours before waking up feeling like death and boarding a very painful ferry to Paros.

The decor in the silent disco club

  The ferry was rough, but worth it. In Paros, I saw the clearest water of my life. You could’ve told me it was a swimming pool and I’d believe you. We got to our accommodation mid day, and because I was so dead from Ios and no sleep I decided to stay at the hotel while most of the group went to a beach nearby. I enjoyed a cold shower, long nap, and ventured into town with my friend Stefani for a dang good margarita and a gyro burger. That night, I stayed in and went to bed early. The next day we spent just the 28 of us on a boat sailing all over the waters of Antiparos. We passed Tom Hank’s summer house, stopped and jumped into the clear water many times, at kebabs that were grilled for us on the boat, got some solid day drunk off wine time in, and I got to recreate a photo my grandmother took so so many years ago. That night I had some delicious and unexpected Mexican food near our hotel with some friends. We took a long walk to say goodbye to one of the tour assistants from EF, Jeff and then stayed in again.

The next day we took a ferry to our final island, the VIP destination of Mykonos. Alas, no spotting of Real Housewives or Kardashians occured. Fun fact about Mykonos though, this rich Greek guy with the last name Onassis basically pulled Mykonos out of poverty in the 50s by building clubs and restaurants and taking his rich friends to the island on his yacht. Oh, and he married Jackie Kennedy after JFK’s death, so like, nbd, but kind of a bd. Mykonos was chic, expensive, and gorgeous. From the maze of winding streets in Little Venice, to the windmills on a hill, to the continuously gorgeous sunsets, I understood why everyone loves Mykonos. My wallet however, did not love Mykonos. I enjoyed the nightlife a lot in Mykonos, and I am not too proud to admit that I got up on the stripper pole in a Scandinavian bar multiple times. No one else was doing that pole justice, it was my duty to do so. Again, sorry not sorry. I was also very lucky in that I avoided a gnarly virus that reached more than half of our travel group in Mykonos. I got to go to an all day beach party on a nude beach where the drinks we frozen, tasty and two for one. Then I stayed in that night because one of my roommates was not feeling so hot and I was frankly starting to feel drained. Mykonos provided another really great breakfast, full of pastries, the al important nutella, and great coffee. Checking into my flight out of Athens was a bit of a nightmare as a large group of Asian tourists were on the not great to begin with wifi that all 28 of us were trying to utilize. Luckily I had data and managed alright.

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We took our last ferry back to Athens the next morning. I finished the book I’d brought with me, and ate two bags of chips and was very happy to see Athens again. I bought my final souvenirs, and headed to the goodbye dinner with friends who had, over 17 days become family. It was a bittersweet night, saying goodbye to everyone and hugging and crying and enjoying the last Greek food of the trip.

I got lucky and was on the “later” flight out of Athens at noon, so I went on a bus that left at 8 am, killed time in the airport, and made my long journey back to SF. When I finally arrived, exhausted and hangry, my lovely boyfriend picked me up, took me straight to in n out, took me, home and tucked me into bed. I fell asleep fast, exhausted but so grateful for the trip of a lifetime.

This trip wouldn’t have been what it was without the people on it. So this is where I’m going to take a minute to shout out 28 lovely humans one by one. Bear with me guys, this is the sappy but good part.

To my roomates, Abbie and Alexa: thank you for always making me feel included, for never letting me be too hard on myself, for listening to me talk about my boyfriend a lot and for putting up with my snoring. Alexa, you are so full of light and love, and you can make anyone feel at ease with your sense of humor. You’re going to be an incredible doctor because you are kind and patient. Abbie, I’m not sure if I’ll ever stop saying y’all, but meeting you was more than worth it. You are like a ray of sunshine in human form. I’ve never laughed so hard with someone so much. And don’t be afraid that you don’t know what you’re doing yet, pro tip, no one really does. And if I ever even sense either of you complaining about your perfect bods Imma have to hop a plane and smack sense into you both. Just sayin.

To Steffani: you are one of the sassiest, punniest humans I know in the best way possible. I will always be envious of what the ocean does to your hair. Thank you for making me laugh, and for adventuring with me and always having a granola bar on hand to prevent hangriness. We are going out in SF asap.

To Michelle: Thank you for laughing at all of my jokes, good and bad, for trusting my caption skills, and for making me feel included and confidant. You are such a sweet heart, and I know you’re going to do amazing things. Everyone who gets to watch is lucky.

To Rose: Thank you for sharing drinks, and life advice with me, and also for not being afraid to tan topless with me, lol. You are full of so much spunk and sass, and you’re so beautiful just the way you are, so never change for anyone but yourself.

To Juliet: You are so young, and you’ve already done so much with your life! It is incredibly inspiring, even as someone older than you to know how full of adventure your life is. Never lose your love of travel, your sensibility, or your fearless heart. They’re all incredible assets.

To Haley: You are one of the most beautiful humans inside and out that I have ever met. Don’t try and grow up too fast though, these are the best years of your life, I promise it’s not a cliche. Be yourself, be curious, be kind, and always make sure that your head and your heart reach a healthy compromise.

To Molly: thank you for understanding SF, for making me smile and for always being authentic. To be 100% sure of yourself is rare, and admirable, don’t lose that.

To Ridge and Reina: They say that when you travel with your partner you learn a lot, and I saw you two remain so in love with each other, it was an inspiration. Also, your picture skills are on FLEEK. I’ll be hitting you up next time I’m in Maui. Mahalo for being amazing humans.

To Adam: Understated and classy are two words that describe you best. You’re the kind of humble and smart that puts other people at ease. Does that make sense? I hope so. Make good choices, and don’t be afraid to let loose every once in a while. Adulting is exhausting and you deserve to chill. Even in the chill area of SoCal.

To Jason: I have never met anyone as consistently positive as you, and it’s a truly great trait. You never failed to make me laugh, but you weren’t afraid to be straight up either. Stay true to who you are, and remember, be smart with your head and your heart.

To Brenda: I wish I’d gotten to know you better, but you have the best style of anyone I know and you’re always smiling which is such an attractive quality to have. I have a feeling that you’re meant for great things. And I have a feeling you know that too.

To Claire: I admire that you know what you want and don’t want so early in life! Stay true to yourself, and stick to your guns and then there will be nothing that can stop you.

To Skai: Even though you don’t want to go out in SF with me, you’re still a pretty cool dude. I’m rooting for you to snag that billionare.

To Brett: You are one funny son of a gun. While your commentary wasn’t always appreciated, your humor still was. You have a way of making people feel relaxed and happy around you. Just don’t kill any dogs when I’m not watching. Or I’ll have to kill you.

To Lauren B.: You are such a beautiful person, honestly. Your presence is warm, and I can see how you make an excellent teacher, because you are patient, and fun, and kind. I might just have to come to a Royals game and see ya one day.

To Jaime: Thank you for being my photographer, hype woman, drink partner, and so much more. You’re one of the funniest people I know, and your frankness is my favorite because it reminds me of me. Thank you for getting me out and home safe, for making sure I laughed more than I didn’t and for basically making me louve you as a human.

To Kelly: You are one sarcastic mofo. But you’re also really kind, as one of the most intellectual people I know. I’m sorry if my repetative nature and loud volume wasn’t always ideal for you, but you should know you still occupy a special lil place in my heart. Keep being strong, and sassy and fab.

To Katelyn: Thank you for loving dessert as much as me, for thinking I’m hilarious, for taking killer pictures, and for overall just being a super fly gal. Your lack of swearing and inability to tan are wonderful. Some day I will need you to photograph my wedding. And you can bring Tiffany too I guess.

To Maddy: You are literally the kindest, most Disney princess like human I know. Your nurse tendencies to be prepared for anything were much needed, and your stories were wonderful. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a nurse. Also, you’re gorgeous AF and too nice to even hate for it, so there’s that.

To Carolina: Oh my goodness I didn’t know such a big heart could be contained in such a little human! Thank you for always making sure I was safe, aka not letting me fall asleep in a club and getting drunk gyros with me, and for being so open about who you are. You’re one of the hardest working, and most passionate people I know and I cannot wait to watch you take the world by storm. Also, you’re ridiculously beautiful with killer style to boot. Ugh, miss you already.

To Nikki: You are so New York, I love it. Loud, funny, full of attitude, and a killer photographer. You are the definition of what people look for in a ride or die, not afraid to go hard but also always has your back. You deserve to be treated like a princess so never settle for less than that. You’re visiting me in SF with Carolina and Steffani asap. Please.

To Ally Klein: You’re one of those girls that has “it” and doesn’t even know. You light up rooms when you walk into them, and steal men’s hearts with ease. You’re gorgeous, kind and genuine to boot. Keep putting your heart out there, keep adventuring, and never stop spreading your infectious smile.

To Allie Ward: The only chances we regret are the ones we never take, and I know that you know that. You have a big heart, a love of travel, and a downright infectious laugh. You’re a true friend and your compassion is huge and wonderful. Keep taking chances and making new memories because we all only have this one life to live, and it’s way too short to have regrets about.

To Tiffany: You are beautiful, and you deserve to be confidant in that. Never spend so much time out of the spotlight that you forget that you’re a star in your own right. You have so much to give this world that you should never hide. You made me feel so sure of myself, and you were the best hype woman ever. Now make sure that you do that for yourself too. Also I would come to Georgia and humidity just to see you (and Kaitlyn) and for a California girl, that means a lot.

To Jenn: You are one of the most naturally beautiful girls that I know. I love that you’re young and living life on your own terms, so many girls your age aren’t there yet. Keep living the life that you’re proud of and surrounding yourself with people who build you up, because that’s what you deserve. Also, your instagram feed is fire.

To Paisley: I respect the heck outta your vegan life style. You are also one of the sweetest human I know. You meet every compliment with graciousness, and that’s becoming rare today. Your smile is stunning, and almost always on your face! Hold on to that, because you seem to understand that life is a beautiful thing to smile about. Keep your independence and light with you wherever you go. It’ll take you far, promise.

To Mike: You are one sassy and hilarious mofo. Your deadpan comments and facials are everything. You could probably make reading the phone book sound entertaining if you tried hard enough. New York, and the rest of the world frankly, love and need your soul in it. Never ever change, and HAGS. Lol.

CONGRATS! You made it to the end of my longest blog post to date. It took me two hours to write, and hopefully takes less time for you to read.

I can’t say enough about how great EF was too. Our tour guide Daphne, was my travel mom by the end of the trip and was hands down one of the kindest, funniest, most organized woman I know. The accommodations were all really nice, despite the cold shower or two, and a few meh breakfasts. Transportation was efficient, and each day promised something new. I look forward to my next EF trip.

And I’ll leave you with a quote, as always: “Now more than ever do I realize that I will never be content with a sedentary life, that I will always be haunted by thoughts of a sun-drenched elsewhere.” ― Isabelle Eberhardt, The Nomad: The Diaries of Isabelle Eberhard

    It’s All Greek to Me So recently I spent two and a half weeks traveling all over Greece with 30 super cool people.

[pamphletstoinspire]

THE HOLY GOSPEL OF JESUS CHRIST, - THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES, FROM THE LATIN VULGATE BIBLE

Chapter 16

PREFACE.

St. Luke, who had published his gospel, wrote also a second volume, which, from the first ages, hath been called the Acts of the Apostles. Not that we can look upon this work, as a history of what was done by all the apostles, who were dispersed in different nations; but we have here a short view of the first establishment of the Christian Church, a small part of St. Peter's preaching and actions, set down in the first twelve chapters, and a more particular account of St. Paul's apostolical labours, in the following chapters, for about thirty years, till the year 63, and the 4th year of Nero, where these acts end.

Chapter 16

Paul visits the churches. He is called to preach in Macedonia. He is scourged at Philippi.

1 And (about the year A.D. 51) he came to Derbe and Lystra. And behold there was a certain disciple there named Timothy, the son of a Jewish woman who believed, his father being a Gentile.

Notes & Commentary:

Ver. 1. No explanation given.

2 To this man the brethren, who were in Lystra and Iconium, gave a good testimony.

Ver. 2. No explanation given.

3 Him Paul would have to go along with him: and taking him, he circumcised him, because of the Jews, who were in those places. For they all knew that his father was a Gentile.

Ver. 3. Circumcised him. Not to obstruct the conversion of the Jews; and because it was still lawful to observe the Jewish ceremonies, though the obligation of keeping the old law had ceased. (Witham) --- This St. Paul did in order to gain the Jews, and make Timothy acceptable to them. (Tirinus) --- To the Jew, says he, (1 Corinthians ix. 20.) I became a Jew, that I might gain the Jews. If he refused to circumcise Titus, in order to vindicate the Christian's independence of the Mosaic ceremonies; he now submits to the observance of them, to shew there is nothing of itself bad in them, and that they might without crime be practised, till time by degrees had abolished them. (St. Augustine, ep. lxxxii. ad S. Hieronymum)

4 And as they passed through the cities, they delivered to them the decrees to keep, that were decreed by the apostles and ancients, who were at Jerusalem.

Ver. 4. Here, as well as in the last verse of the former chapter, we see St. Paul ordering the new converts, wherever he went, to receive, as their rule of conduct, the ordinances of the apostles and priests assembled in Jerusalem.

5 And the churches indeed were confirmed in faith, and increased in number daily.

Ver. 5. No explanation given.

6 Now having passed through Phrygia, and the country of Galatia, they were forbidden, by the Holy Ghost, to preach the word of God in Asia.

Ver. 6. They were forbidden by the Holy Ghost, to go, and preach at that time in the Lesser Asia [Asia Minor], perhaps because their preaching in Macedonia was more necessary; or because St. John was to be sent into Asia [Asia Minor]. (Witham) --- Forbidden. Why? Because they were not yet prepared to receive the gospel; or, perhaps, these provinces were reserved for St. John, as Bithynia was for St. Luke. (Menochius) --- St. Leo compares this question to many others respecting the inscrutable judgments of God. Why did not the Son of God come into the world many ages before? Why did he suffer so many to die in ignorance? Why are there yet so many in infidelity? Why, in one family, does one believe and is converted, while another remains in darkness, and crime? Who shall account for the exercise he pleases to make of his rigour, or his mercy, when all were justly victims of the former? (St. Leo, de vocat. Gentium. lib. ii. chap. 2)

7 And when they were come into Mysia, they attempted to go into Bithynia, and the Spirit of Jesus permitted them not.

Ver. 7. The spirit of Jesus permitted them not. It is the same spirit, which just before was called the Holy Ghost: for the Holy Ghost is the spirit of Jesus, as proceeding from the Son as well as from the Father. (Witham)

8 And when they had passed through Mysia, they went down to Troas:

Ver. 8. No explanation given.

9 And a vision was shewn to Paul in the night: A man of Macedonia standing, and beseeching him, and saying: Pass over into Macedonia, and help us.

Ver. 9. A vision, &c. The tutelar angel of the province, according to most interpreters, under the form of a Macedonian, who implored St. Paul in behalf of the province he guarded.

10 And as soon as he had seen the vision, immediately we sought to go into Macedonia, being assured that God had called us to preach the gospel to them.

Ver. 10. We. This change in the narration from the third, to the first person, we sought, &c. is remarkable. It is hence inferred, that St. Luke, the author of this book, joined St. Paul at Troas, and became his inseparable companion. (Calmet) --- It is, however, probable, that as the narrative in the first person changes again at the end of this chapter, and is not resumed, till the fifth verse of the 20th chapter, that St. Luke was absent on some mission during the time that elapsed between this and their sailing from Philippi, as mentioned hereafter. (Chap. xx. ver. 6) (Tirinus)

11 So sailing from Troas, we came with a direct course to Samothracia, and the day following to Neapolis:

Ver. 11. No explanation given.

12 And from thence to Philippi, which is the chief city of part of Macedonia, a colony. And we were in this city some days, conferring together.

Ver. 12. No explanation given.

13 And upon the sabbath-day, we went forth without the gate by a river side, where it seemed that there was prayer: and sitting down, we spoke to the women that were assembled.

Ver. 13. There was prayer. The Greek word signifies either prayer itself, or an oratory, or place to pray in. (Witham) --- Not every prayer is here understood, but that which was joined in the celebration of the sacred mysteries. (Estius, in different location.) See 1 Corinthians vii. and Acts vi.

Note:

Ver. 13. Oratio, proseuche, preces, oratio & Oratorium.

14 And a certain woman, named Lydia, a seller of purple, of the city of Thyatira, one that worshipped God, heard us, whose heart the Lord opened to attend to the things which were spoken by Paul.

Ver. 14. No explanation given.

15 And when she was baptized, and her household, she besought us, saying: If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come into my house, and remain. And she constrained us.

Ver. 15. No explanation given.

16 And it came to pass, as we went to prayer, a certain girl, possessed with a pythonical spirit, met us, who brought her masters much gain by divining.

Ver. 16. A pythonical spirit. A spirit pretending to divination, to tell secrets, and things to come. See 2 Kings xxviii; Isaias viii. 19. (Witham) --- A divining spirit, which pretended to foretell things to come. It is strictly forbidden every where throughout the old law to have any dealings with persons of this description. (Deuteronomy xviii. 10; Leviticus xx. 27; &c.) Hence it would appear that these superstitions were of early practice among mankind. It is lamentable that the present age is still credulous enough to believe in such impostures. The ignorance of mankind, it appears, has always been made a source of emolument to the designing. (Haydock)

17 This same, following Paul and us, cried out, saying: These men are the servants of the most high God, who announce to you the way of salvation.

Ver. 17. These men are the servants of the most high God. Evil spirits in possessed people, are sometimes forced to tell the truth. (Witham)

18 And this she did many days. But Paul being grieved, turned, and said to the spirit: I command thee, in the name of Jesus Christ, to go out of her. And he went out the same hour.

Ver. 18. Observe here that the servants of God have a power granted them of controlling wicked spirits, according to the promise of our Lord, Luke ix. and x. Hence the seventy disciples, returning, said: Lord, even the devils are subject to us in thy name. (Estius, in different location)

19 But her masters seeing that the hope of their gain was gone, apprehending Paul and Silas, they brought them into the market-place to the rulers;

Ver. 19. No explanation given.

20 And presenting them to the magistrates, said: These men disturb our city, being Jews:

Ver. 20. Jews. This was the name the first Christians went by among the pagans. Indeed our Saviour's being born of that nation, and his disciples adoring the same God, and following the same morality and Scriptures as the Jews, were sufficient reasons to make them confounded. When Suetonius relates that Claudius banished the Jews from Rome, he means the Christians. (Calmet)

21 And preach a fashion which it is not lawful for us to receive, nor observe, being Romans.

Ver. 21. There was a standing decree of the senate, which forbade the introduction of any new divinity, without the formal consent of the senate. (Bible de Vence)

22 And the people ran together against them: and the magistrates tearing off their clothes, commanded them to be beaten with rods.

Ver. 22. No explanation given.

23 And when they had laid many stripes upon them, they cast them into prison, charging the jailor to keep them securely.

Ver. 23. No explanation given.

24 Who having received such a charge, thrust them into the inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks.

Ver. 24. Made their feet fast in the stocks. By the Latin and Greek text, they made them fast with wood. (Witham)

25 And at midnight, Paul and Silas praying, praised God: and they who were in prison heard them.

Ver. 25. No explanation given.

26 And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken. And immediately all the doors were opened: and the bands of all were loosed.

Ver. 26. All the doors were opened. This made the jailer conclude the prisoners had made their escape. And he being answerable for them, and expecting to be put to death, was for stabbing himself. (Witham)

27 And the keeper of the prison being awakened, and seeing the doors of the prison open, drawing his sword, would have killed himself, supposing that the prisoners had fled.

Ver. 27. No explanation given.

28 But Paul cried with a loud voice, saying: Do thyself no harm, for we are all here.

Ver. 28. No explanation given.

29 Then calling for a light, he went in, and trembling, fell down at the feet of Paul and Silas:

Ver. 29. No explanation given.

30 And bringing them out, he said: Masters, what must I do, that I may be saved?

Ver. 30. No explanation given.

31 But they said: Believe in the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.

Ver. 31. No explanation given.

32 And they spoke the word of the Lord to him, and to all that were in his house.

Ver. 32. No explanation given.

33 And he taking them the same hour of the night, washed their wounds: and himself was baptized, and all his family forthwith.

Ver. 33. Was baptized, being first told what he was to believe, and do. (Witham) --- Hence Catholics draw a very plausible argument for the baptism of infants, as it is very probable there were some infants in the family. See Estius, in different location.

34 And when he had brought them into his own house, he laid the table for them, and rejoiced with all his family, believing God.

Ver. 34. No explanation given.

35 And when it was day, the magistrates sent the serjeants, saying: Let those men go.

Ver. 35. Sent the serjeants, vergers, or such like officers. (Witham)

Note:

Ver. 35. Lictores, rabduchous, vergers, rod-bearers.

36 And the keeper of the prison told these words to Paul: The magistrates have sent to have you discharged: now therefore depart, and go in peace.

Ver. 36. No explanation given.

37 But Paul said to them: After having beaten us publicly, uncondemned, men that are Romans, they cast us into prison: and now do they thrust us out privately? Not so: but let them come,

Ver. 37. Romans. St. Paul inherited his right of citizenship from his father; it does not appear how Silas obtained it, perhaps by purchase. There is no proof that Silas was a freeman of Rome. (Denis the Carthusian) --- It was forbidden by the Porcian and Sempronian laws, for a Roman citizen to be scourged, unless he was likewise convicted of a capital crime. Cicero pro Rabirio. Facinus est vinciri civem Romanum: scelus verberari. Id. cont. Verrem. The Romans were always very jealous of the dignity of their city. We cannot but admire St. Paul's astonishing desire of suffering for the name of Jesus, in concealing a circumstance, the very naming of which would have saved him the cruel scourging he suffered. If he now refuses to go out of the prison privately, it is to vindicate his honour, and to avert the scandal, which the new converts would naturally feel, in seeing their master treated as a criminal. He exemplified in this instance St. Augustine's principal; "Our lives are necessary for ourselves, but our reputation for others." (Haydock) --- Estius declares, that Silas was also a Roman citizen, and that from this circumstance he probably received a Roman name, as Paul did. For in other parts of Scripture we find him styled Silvanus. (2 Corinthians i. 19.) and at the commencement of both the epistles to the Thessalonians. --- Not so; but let them come, &c. St. Paul patiently submitted himself to be whipped in a most disgraceful and cruel manner, which he could easily have prevented or put a stop to, by saying, I am a Roman citizen. Afterwards, when they were for setting him at liberty, he claims his privilege, he puts all the magistrates in a fright; they run to ask him pardon, and entreat him with all civility to leave the town, which he does not think fit to do, till he visited his brethren and friends. (Witham)

38 And discharge us themselves. And the serjeants told these words to the magistrates. And they were afraid, hearing that they were Romans:

Ver. 38. No explanation given.

39 And coming, they intreated them: and bringing them out, they desired them to depart out of the city.

Ver. 39. No explanation given.

40 And going out of the prison, they entered into the house of Lydia: and having seen the brethren, they comforted them, and departed.

Ver. 40. No explanation given.