wonderfulworldofmaeth

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

I'm Blue.

Full name: Blue Darren Jones (later changed to Blue Darren Thunderhawk)

Age: 21 years old

Birthday: April 10th

Sexual orientation: Pansexual

Pronouns: He/Him

Familiar: BeeBee the Racoon

Personality:

Likes: Fishing, hot days, cruising around town with the windows down, watching horror movies, spending time with his mom, the color green, lake days with his friends, buffets, paddleboading, riding four wheelers, helping other people, playing basketball, salty food, summer camps, getting high and drunk with his friends, getting tan in the summer, arts and crafts, visiting his sister, late night talks about everything, eating in the car, listening to CDs.

Dislikes: When people yell at him, bland food, picking where to sit on the first day of school, pop music, cleaning up after others, tv static, superficial and shallow people, sand and dirt in his shoes, okra, when people think they know what he's feeling, locker room talk, when people force him to change, sunburns, church camps, hearing strange noises at night.

Abilities: Blue is pretty handy and can fix a lot of things around the house, and often does so when he goes to live with his biological mother. He only speaks one language: Sabran Embrish, but he's trying to change that. He can cook and often makes dinners out of the fish he catches. He's athletic and likes just about every sport you can think of, especially paddleboarding and basketball.

Favourite food: Fish Fry (fully involved)

Favourite drink: Strawberry Lemonade

Favourite flower: Bluebonnets

Appearance:

Height: 5'11 or 180 cm

Weight: 210 lbs or 95 kg

Hair: Blue has long dark hair like his mother, that ranges from wavy to straight. He usually has it tied up in a different style daily, generally opting for ponytails or braids with a bandana.

Eyes: Blue has dark eyes, nearly black. They're inquisitive and kind, sometimes squinting to a close when he laughs.

General description: Blue has a light olive skin tone and tans very easily, which he prefers to do in the summer months. He has his father's large nose, and his mother's cheekbones and strong chin. His eyebrows are rather thick, just a hair away from being too bushy and it takes a lot of effort to keep them tame. His face has some hyperpigmentation around the cheek area because of the acne and eczema he struggled with as a kid. He's able to grow a beard, but he prefers to keep clean-shaven. If anything he lets his goatee grow sometimes. He's been stretching his earlobes since he was about sixteen and has several gauges and piercings he enjoys wearing. He has several tattoos that have various meanings to him as well as some that he's gotten just for fun. Blue likes to stay active, his biceps and back muscles really starting to fill out now that he's older. He always has a content expression on his face, making him approachable to others.

Fashion sense: Blue has a practical fashion sense. He likes denim a lot, and wears it a lot when he works as well as plays. He owns loads of vintage shirts that he's "restyled" with a pair of scissors. Cutting off sleeves and cropping necklines and hems is his favorite pastime. The same goes for his jeans; he does enjoy a good pair of cutoffs. He's never owned a lot of shoes at the same time, often having a couple of pairs of sneakers and a couple of pairs of boots. He's pretty tough on his shoes as he does like to spend a lot of time outside, so he has to get new ones frequently. He has a lot of bandanas and hats and wears one more often than not. In the winter months, he sports his grandfather's fringe jacket or one of the many denim jackets he has. Blue loves jewelry and normally opts for leather or feather jewelry, made by his mother or the people in his community. He's also a fan of DIY crafts so he'll make his own.

A brief look into his life:

Occupation: While living with his mother in Grand Mitoka, Blue started working odd jobs to help with bills and save for a car. He's done plumbing and electrical work, dug wells, and has done various forms of farm work. When he was 17, he finally settled on a job with the Mitoka Sanitation Division. After studying at Mitoka State and at the Vivarium Institutes in Maeth, Blue now works in environmental management, seeing how he could best help his community and environment.

Love interest:

Minerva Migloire

Family and friends:

Steven Jones, father

Winry Thunderhawk, mother

Mckenna Dean Jones, stepmother

Fordham (Ford) Jones, brother

Logan Jones, brother

Celina Davis-Jones, sister

Danisha Davis, mother figure

Kendall Wainwright and Jojo McClanahan, childhood friends

Molly Eustice-Thunderhawk, grandmother

Sili (Songbird) Eubank, ex-girlfriend

Nash Baker and Alex Wang, roommates at MSU and VIT

Miscellaneous facts:

He likes making up stories in his head but he's not super great at writing them down, so he just keeps a list of cool things he thinks about.

He found his pet raccoon, BeeBee, shortly before he moved to Mitoka.

Blue has lived in Sabra all his life and doesn't have a passport (yet).

Blue is an environmentalist at heart and has a passion for sustainable practices and recycling.

Blue smoked his first cigarette at age 10 and he definitely regrets it. He quit smoking cigarettes when he was fifteen but has since struggled with the addiction again.

Blue has been sensitive to paranormal activity, seeing and feeling presences since he was a little kid.

Blue can eat a whole bucket of fried chicken in one sitting. And definitely plans to do it again.

Story:

Blue was born in Brolin, Sabra to mother Winry Thunderhawk and father Steven Jones. He has three older half siblings: Ford, Celina, and Logan. His mother didn't live with his father at the time as he was still married to Blue's step-mother, Mckenna. Blue spent much of his early years between his mother and father's houses until his father divorced Mckenna and married his mother, Winry.

When Winry moved in, there were tensions between her and her step-children, specifically Ford and Logan. Ultimately, it led to a short-lived marriage and a nasty divorce. Due to her personal struggles with substance abuse, Steven won full custody of their son. He even went as far as to threaten Winry, warning her if she ever tried to come back into Blue's life, there would be consequences. Ultimately, the relationship ended with Winry moving back to Mitoka without her son. It wasn't a decision she wanted to make, but with Steven's wealth and connections, there wasn't much she could do to win her son back.

Blue grew up with his siblings, closest to his sister Celina. His two brothers, Fordham and Logan created a strained relationship with their siblings Celina and Blue with constant teasing, exclusion, and bullying. Although Steven didn't outright show favoritism to any one of his children, subtle behaviors and dynamics caused Celina and Blue to feel unwelcome in their own home.

This resulted in Celina reaching out to her biological mother, and willing Blue to do the same thing.

When Blue was fifteen, Celina had convinced him to go live with his mother to escape the discrimination and mistreatment by his brothers. Although Blue was sick of his life, he couldn't help but hope it would improve. However, at the news of his father's engagement to yet another woman, he and his sister Celina thought it was best for him to leave Brolin before the family dynamic changed for the worse.

When Blue arrived in Mitoka, he and his mother got along well. They enrolled him in the local school where he made lots of friends and had the experience he'd always dreamed of. Although he didn't have the luxuries he was used to, he was happy to spend that time bonding with his mother.

When he was old enough, around sixteen, he started working odd jobs during his time there. Eventually, Blue graduated from high school and was encouraged by his mother to attend a university. Through these avenues, he ultimately sets on the path to attend VIT in Esbat, Maeth where he meets his love interest, Minerva Migloire.

@themaethpost

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"Minerva... well it was really nice to meet you. I hope we see each other again someday. Until then, wear that helmet. I'll write!"

-Blue Thunderhawk

Now Presenting: Minerva Migloire, the healer.

Introduction.

Full name: Minerva Aelin Magloire.

Pronouns: She/Her.

Birthday: 13th February.

Sexual orientation: Heterosexual.

Pet: Tackery, the ferret.

Personality.

Birth chart (big three): Aquarius sun, Piscis moon, Capricorn rising.

MBTI: INFJ-T.

Patron Arcana: The Moon.

Upright: Intuition, illusions, crisis of faith.

Reversed: Ignored trauma, going back to one’s old ways, difficult emotions.

Minor Arcana: Eight of Cups.

Upright: Departure, change, and emotional intelligence.

Reversed: Being abandoned, errors of judgement, clinging to the past.

Likes: Art nouveau architecture, vitraux, tiny jars for herbs and spices, having a specific order and place for things, white mushrooms growing from in between cobblestones all over Maeth, the way her curls look when she just wakes up, cutting her own hair, soft breeze in the summer, crunchy autumn leaves at her door, that magical shimmer water reflects due to the sun being right above it midday, sweet treats, dim lighting, walnut oak furniture, being a big sister, when Tack rests on her shoulders like a scarf, folk music at the tavern, cherry blush all over her cheeks, when Soleil asked for bedtime stories, doing laundry and sunday deep cleaning, cooking and storing food for the rest of the week, the way Esbat Capital lights up at night, surprising chemical reactions, riding the train, reading romance books.

Dislikes: Brushing her hair because it destroys her curls, rude costumers that doubt her knowledge and expertise, loud people, when the herbs she ordered are delayed so now she has to rush to make the new batches of oil and ointments, long trips on boats, losing her bookmarks, falling asleep on her couch and not her bed, when the shower water runs cold, not being able to find Tack easily.

Abilities: She’s not great at maths but she really does like the accounting aspect of the shop she runs so she’s great at it. Minerva learned how to play the guitar early on in her life so now she’s a decent player. She’s quick to remember recipes for both food and medicine. Can ride a bike without holding the handlebars and that’s her prefered way of moving around the big city, divination.

Favourite food: Cinnamon rolls.

Favourite drink: A latte, please. Or two. Or three… And it’s only 2 PM.

Favourite flower: Ghost flowers.

Magic: She wasn’t born into a family of witches, so she doesn’t have any nature’s element weilding powers but she is interested in witchcraft, so she studies in her free time about it. So far, the only thing she’s confident in is divination with tarot cards and participates in the pagan festivities but nothing else.

Appearance.

Height: 5’4 or 165 cm.

Weight: 119 lbs or 54 kg.

Hair: She’s got this chocolate brown, curly hair which ends go barely past covering her breasts and she can’t tame it most of the time, partially due to the fact that she washes it and goes to sleep without letting it dry properly first. Not that she cares, she likes the messy look her curls and frizz offer so she just lets it be. Though, you might run into her at Açu’s for some deep conditioner every month trying to force those curls to stay in place.

Eyes: Her eyes are brown, simple as that. It’s a deep, sparkly dark brown. Down turned almond shape that look so sleepy most of the time, you’d think she’s bored talking to you and she might be, but it’s not her intention to let you know that. Long lashes adoring her nostalgic stare only enhanced by a eyelash curler in the morning and not much else. Maybe some sparkly eyeshadow in the corner of her eyes if she’s feeling it.

General description: Overall, Minerva is not someone who stands out a lot. Even so, her beauty is something that might caught the eyes of one or two people while walking to work in the mornings. She’s not someone who wears a lot of jewelry but since her eyesight isn’t the best, she’s always wearing contacts or glasses and that’s something she really likes to play with, so you might see her with peculiar frames at the shop. She’s got veiny hands and most of the time you’ll see her wearing some kind of shimmery nail polish that chips way too easily. Minerva has a few beauty marks all over her body, she likes the one she’s got on her neck near her left ear a lot. Also, yes, that overwhelming scent you’re catching is her walking by. Her perfumes are very intense and sweet.

Fashion sense: She’s not the most confident person on the planet and tries to hide her figure a lot behind oversized shirts, sweaters and cardigans, though she’s trying to be more versatile. Trousers and comfortable shoes are her best friends but since she’s okay with her lower part, she’s not opposed to skirts (long or short). She likes clean lines, basic pieces that she can mix and match. Also, boots are her soft spot.

A brief look into her life.

Occupation: Minerva is an apothecary, just like her grandma used to be. When her and Soleil moved in with their father to Maeth from Embry, he decided to move in to his old home with his mother that passed away a few months before. This place is like a small building where the first floor is a shop, the apothecary shop where Minerva works and then, the second and third floor is where Soleil and their father live. Two years ago, Minerva moved just two blocks away from them to a small apartment with a gorgeous view, so she’s with her family most of the time.

Family and friends:

Federico Bianchi; step-father.

Reneé Berest; mother.

Simón Magloire; father.

Soleil Beallin Magloire; sister.

Natsu Dunaidh, best friend.

Benicio Melo Teixeira, best friend.

Amaru Ch’aska Noguera, friend and colleague.

Miscellaneous facts:

The love she has for the aphotecary profession comes from her grandma and all the books she left behind that she wrote about making remedies, herbology and holistic medicine.

She’s also incredibly interested in alchemy and psychology but had to study to be a pharmacist in university so she could continue with the aphotecary business and not have anyone doubting her medicine knowledge and recommend another options.

Even though you’ll mostly see her dressed with autumn colors, she’s also a sucker for cerulean, midnight blue, navy and cobalt. No, it’s not just blue.

Hums and talks to herself while working most of the time, since she’s the only one at the shop most of the time. Except for the times Soleil decides to keep her company for a while.

Loves conspiracy theories and is cryptic enthusiast.

Moths are fascinating to her.

Has a soft, breathy voice when she sings while playing the guitar.

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

byōbu-e 屏風絵 - peinture sur paravent - “Lions” de

Takeuchi Seihō 竹内 栖鳳 (1864 - 1942).

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"The Esbat Capitol is one of the most elegant places I've ever seen. It still amazes me, even after all these years. I can recall when I first arrived in Maeth; Ella had shown me the Vivarium Fountain of Fallen Soldiers. What a beautiful and meaningful monument to greet and welcome me into this fairytale city. I still feel how vividly the magic courses through you when you near it. The feeling has never faded."

"Living here is a dream come true. I can't thank enough my sister who has shared her life with me and allowed me to create my own. This place is always a reminder."

-Salice Zieragh Halloway

Now Presenting: Esbat Capital.

Esbat Capital is Maeth’s big, cosmopolitan capital city. Its center is the Cortez Circle, lined with stately Curdic-style buildings and commemorative statues including the Vivarium Fountain of Fallen Soldiers and the VIT, the Vivarium Institute of Technology (third photo) as well as an elegant shopping area. Other major attractions include Sabbat Slendid (second photo), a grand opera house with nearly 2,500 seats, and the modern SAMA museum, displaying maethisse, saudade and atawallpan art.

The National Library of Maeth (first photo) is another focal point, where people from all around the world can get their affiliation card to the library and are welcomed seven days a week from 8 A.M to 8 P.M.

As for the rest of the capital city of Maeth, El Paseo de los Artesanos near the port is a exquisite attraction worth visiting at any time of the day for a magical experience given that it’s also one of the biggest outdoor shopping places as a proper feria consciente and almacenes during the week days.

The Puerto Iluminada amusement park is just next to it, where kids and adults alike can ride on the Fortune Wheel and lots of other wonderful games, enjoying the view at the ocean by being really close to the Prime Grand Port.

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"No tengo sugerencias para ti, sólo una promesa. Una promesa para amarte con todo de mi corazón. Mi Isabella, mi mariposa. A menudo, me pregunto cómo es que tengo tanta suerte, buena fortuna. Incluso hoy, no sé la respuesta. No necesito una respuesta, porque te tengo. Nuesto amor es una cosa imposible. Pero tu lo haces posible."

"Nuestro amor es todo lo que necesito. Eres toda mi vida."

"Te digo, te amo por siempre, mi mariposa."

-Shuhei Kumagai

December 22nd.

The crickets sing along to the the low hum that come from that candle lit kitchen at 11:43 p.m while she busies herself with sweet preparations. The oven, turned off but still warm enough from being used exactly twenty-seven minutes ago, fights off the cold winter night and makes her wipe the windows with her way-too-big sweater sleeves so the fog wouldn’t hide the magical view she has through it while she decorates the small cake with his favourite cake toppings.

It has to be perfect, it needs to taste amazing, at least that what she first thought when she slipped out of his arms in the middle of their sleep and closed the bedroom door as quietly as humanly possible.

She tried the mix a couple of times, adding sugar and vanilla extract when she deemed necessary but nothing seemed quite right, after all, her baking skills aren’t the greatest. Isabella came to the conclusion that the cake tastes decent and rolled with it to not lose any more time.

Three blue candles sit on top of the wooden counter waiting to be placed on the spongy surface. “Three candles for three wishes”, or at least is what her mom always told her and her siblings on every birthday, a nice tradition to bring luck and happiness to your loved ones. And him… Well, he’s who she loves the most.

By the time she’s done with the decorations the clock marks 11:57 p.m. A sweet message in white cream and sloppy lettering adorns the birthday cake: Happy Birthday Shuhei. His full name, of course, she wanted to draw a heart over the I and she did.

Trembling hands grab the small plate and two spoons, one for each. She would’ve grabbed matches but she doesn’t have anything to hide, not anymore, not to him. He knows her, her abilities, her weaknesses, and he’s always been accepting of them.

Her hips push the bedroom door open slightly and her careful steps make their way to his side of the bed to kneel by his side on the floor, presenting the humble gift she made. Her voice interrupts the quiet of the night for the first time since they decided it was time to go to bed.

“Shu, Shu… Baby.” Not quite a whisper, not quite her normal talking voice, but enough to make him stir and shift under the sheets and covers. Still not a single light, except from the moon shining down on them from their bedroom window. Turning to where her voice was calling for him and rubbing his eyes to see better in the dark, that’s when she gently blows on the three candles and they light up in front of his eyes.

“Isa, wh-what happen- Oh…” A pleasant tone in his sleepy voice once he realises what is happening.

“お誕生日おめでとう, amor mío.” Her pronunciation is definitely a little off but it makes him smile so big. She spend the whole night rehearsing this exact same moment, mouthing the words in Kyoh language to herself while whipping and mixing. She knows saying happy birthday in one’s native language is always heart-warming, and all she wants to do now is make him feel surrounded by love. “Make three wishes before you blow out the candles but don’t say them out loud or they won’t come true.”

Their eyes meet for quite sometime, she can feel him staring straight into her soul, as if he is saying “you know what I’m wishing for” and part of her does, because she knows those three wishes are always the same for the both of them since they met two years ago. To be together, to love each other, to be always this happy.

His warm breath reaches her face and turns the fire into smoke that fills the space between them, letting the moon be the only one to illuminate their faces as they come closer together to seal the wishes with a kiss.

A sweet, short kiss before pulling away for her to crawl in bed on top of him as he fixes himself to rest his back on the headboard so they can be face to face.

“Did you like the surprise? I know it’s late and you wake up at the crack of dawn, and of course, this is not it, you have to open your other gifts but…” Her nervous chuckles get interrupted by one more kiss.

“I loved it, Isabella.” His usual stoic face show such tenderness towards her at all times but something about the way his sleepy eyes are looking at hers melts her heart even more than normal. He’s truly happy about the surprise. His heart beating hard but steady, showing how excited he is. She can feel it, she always does.

“Then I hope you like it even more once you taste it.” Isabella hands him a spoon as the cake sits in between their legs on the bed, and even though now he has his own cutlery, the first piece she takes it’s for him, bringing the spoon to his lips for him to try it. “Be harsh with me, any suggestions?”

He shakes his head and lowers her hand, his fingers intertwined with her long hair as he approaches her lips again, the cream on his lips making her taste the sweetness of it all, not just the cake, to then deepen the kiss more and more as seconds go by, leaving the sweet gift on the nightstand all forgotten about for one much more sweeter.

1:13 a.m finds them all tangled up in their bedsheets breathing slow but uneven, their hairs messy on the pillows and their bodies against each other to keep all warmth they just created in the most intimate and loving way. All the love they made has them thinking how magical is to know those three wishes they keep on bringing up on every birthday, on every fallen eyelash, every shooting star, on every talk to the moon came true, and will continue to be true.

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"Cherry Red. That's what I think of when I see you, Josefina. Drives me mad. You know I like it when you frown at me and tell me to buzz off... it makes you smile when you tease me, huh? Maybe I could see that smile again tonight at dinner, if you'd let me take you? Indulge me one time, mi querida."

-Ray Leguizamo

"Tu egoísmo y tu soledad son joyas en el barro de la mediocridad." — Loco (con tu forma de ser) de Los Auténticos Decadentes.

About Josefina Iacovone.

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"I love life. It's a pain in the ass sometimes but es lo que es, yeah? If you have two legs, use them. If you have one, use it. If you have none, use your arms. That's how I look at everything. If you want to do it, do it. Si quieres tenerlo, tenlo. If you wanna be it, be it. I know I will. Porque esta vida es corta, y quiero vivir, baby."

-Nina Dominga Yanez

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"Everything and everyone deserves compassion. I love that magic provides us a power to do good, to protect, and to make whole... but the real magic is compassion of the heart. Those without compassion know a short, cold life. With my powers of light and love, I hope to spread as much compassion as I am able, and bring joy to those who need it most."

-Marnie Elizabeth Ursil

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

Hi there, I'm Mara.

Full name: Mara Evangeline Gaia Gabris

Age: 24 (Would be 32)

Birthday: May 16th

Sexual orientation: Heterosexual

Familiar: Odysseus the Mustang

Personality:

Birth chart (big three): Taurus Sun, Gemini Moon, Aries Rising

MBTI: ESFP-A

Patron Arcana: The Star

Upright: Hope, Faith, Rejuvenation, Healing

Reversed: Hopelessness, Faithlessness, Despair, Despondence

Minor Arcana: Nine of Swords

Upright: Fear, Isolation, Breaking Point

Reversed: Recovery, Coping, Finding Hope

Likes: The color orange, watching the wind kick up dust devils in the desert, fine jewelry, braiding other people's hair, when people make her laugh, roasting marshmallows, flowers of all kinds, putting new horseshoes on her horses, riding in the bed of trucks, cow print, going out dancing, square-toe boots, getting drunk off three shots of Jameson, equating strength with beauty, smiling, barbecues, the month of May, when people compliment her, the way her skin looks when kissed by the sun, shopping at the farmer's market, painting her nails, experimenting in the kitchen, the way her key ring jangles on her hip when she walks, wearing cute clothes that make her feel feminine, brushing her locs, Cole teasing her when she can't say his last name right, pound cake, Summer, playing cards, doing her makeup in natural light, when Cole takes off her cowgirl boots for her, watching the sun rise when she's rounding up her cattle, sleeping with the window open, when people request personal deliveries from her farm, the sounds of the desert at night, riddles that she won't guess, when dogs chase cars, fishing, holding hands in public, giving gifts, feeding her chickens, showing off how well she can whistle, hugs, do it yourself renovations on the house, evening rides with the love of her life.

Dislikes: Washing dishes, blood blisters, using spurs on her animals, baked beans, when people expect more out of her than she feels like she can give, the end of summer, eating the same thing every day, taking animals to the slaughterhouse, when people frown at her, waking up before the rooster, unwanted touch, standing at the market all day selling things from the farm, people who cheat during games, rope burn on her hands, dust storms that ruin the crops, people calling her ditzy even though she knows she's not that smart, the feeling of someone leaving her behind, herself without her locs, hauling water from the river, when people tell her she's lost weight, when she has to get feisty for her voice to be heard, replacing her favorite jeans because her thighs chafe too much, when her family yells at her for making a mistake, convincing others she's soft and deserving of love, the feeling of regret.

Abilities: Mara is a very skilled cowgirl. She can ride horses very well and knows a lot about the upkeep and care of farm animals. She can lasso and whistle and tie a lot of knots. She's pretty handy, able to fix little things around her house and farm. She's very in tune with nature and has a natural sense of direction. Mara also likes to garden and has a green thumb which helps a lot when you grow up on a farm. Mara is also really good at cooking and baking.

Favourite food: Tater Tot Casserole with Cheese and Sour Cream and Bacon

Favourite drink: Sweet Tea with a slice of Orange

Favourite flower: Somraldic Poppy

Favourite place: Under a Somraldic Sycamore in the arms of her love

Magic: Mara is a Prairie Maiden, one of the native witches of Somrald. The magic can be either hereditary, obtained if you complete a special ritual, or you are ordained before you're born. Although she's not as devout as other witches in practice, she often prays and gives offerings at her altar for the Maiden of the Valley, the feminine spirit that watches over Somraldic people, specifically women. Her magic is emotional, providing peace and comfort to the people around her through her touch and her words. She also has a lot of empathy for others as well as animals due to this gift. Mara was also born as one of the Maiden's Messengers, a woman blessed by the Maiden of the Valley with the power to change form into that of an animal. Mara's animal spirit is a Red-Tailed Hawk.

Appearance:

Height: 5'11 or 180 cm

Weight: 217 lbs or 98 kg

Hair: Mara has long black goddess locs that she's been growing since she was a young girl. They're waist-length now and she loves to put charms and weave prairie flowers in them. She often does different styles with her locs, wearing a bandana on her head or tying them in ponytails under her cowgirl hat. In her last few years of life, she cut them, revealing shoulder-length dark bouncy curls.

Eyes: Mara has black eyes, like most people in Murik Valley. They're some of the biggest, sweetest eyes you'll ever see. She has long lashes and always lines her eyes with makeup before leaving the house. She's very expressive and sweet and you'll often find yourself softening under her gaze. One bat of her eyelashes and you'll give her anything she wants.

General description: Mara is tall and curvy. She's strong from all the physical labor she does. She carries her weight in her arms, stomach, hips and legs. Her hourglass shape is accompanied by the cute pudge of her stomach that can be seen when she wears the low-rise jeans she loves. Her face is sweet with round cheeks and a soft jaw. Her lips are quite full and she has dimples when she smiles.

Mara is a free spirit. She loves adventure and feeling alive. She loves experiencing new things and going to new places. She's family-oriented, as Valley folk tend to be, however, she's got a wanderlust that can never be satisfied. If she loves you, she loves hard and you'll know it. She's loyal and dutiful to the people she loves. She's quite responsible when it comes to work, but she loves horsing around and having fun. Mara can be a little forgetful, but if it's important, she'll get it done.

Fashion Sense: Mara is always wearing Western clothing, but she still likes looking nice. A good pair of body-hugging bootcut or flare jeans are her go-to, with a nice belt, no matter the occasion. If she's working she'll wear a henley or collared shirt to protect herself from the elements. If it's cold she'll wear a denim jacket with a fleece interior. She's also got chaps and a few vests she'll wear depending on her work day and the weather. If it's a day of leisure, she'll opt for those jeans paired with a fashion top or a low-cut shirt that shows off her full figure. She loves ribbed tops or henleys, but it's always a scoop neck. Mara never leaves the house without her boots. She's got several pairs, some simple for work, some snazzy for going out. She's always wearing gold or turquoise jewelry and never leaves home without a few prairie charms.

Mara also likes dressing up sometimes. She'll wear a dress with a plunging neckline and some decorative boots. It's very rare you'll see Mara in a pair of heels, but she loves how pretty they make her feel.

A brief look into her life:

Occupation: Mara works with her father on their farm. Her duties include cattle wrangling, milking the cows, feeding the chickens and pigs, slaughtering livestock, tending to their farmland, and a world of other things. There's a lot that goes into having a farm. She does most of the intensive labor with the help of whoever they can afford to employ since Myvern is not able to handle most of that labor due to his illness. Mara also dedicates a portion of her life to the Maiden of the Valley as one of her Messengers. Whatever duties the Maiden calls her to do, she will see in a dream, a vision, or a sudden compulsion.

Love Interest:

Cole Berlusconi

Family and friends:

Myvern Gabris, father

Eleni Gabris, mother

Persephone Gabris, little sister

Tiana Samaras, aunt

Clio Mallas, aunt

Pollyanna Evander, best friend

Nazir Circe, close friend

Olympia Mathison, Castor Bedlam, Jason Karras, friends and colleagues

Tomás, Matías, Marcos, and Emilio, acquaintances she met in Maeth

Isabella Ziergah, friend

Hercules Argo, husband

Bree Argo, daughter

Miscellaneous facts.

Mara is insanely strong. She can't quite tear an addressbook in half but she can make a rip.

Mara never saw herself settling down with a man in a traditional sense, but adventuring and traveling all over the world doing new things with the man she loves, and only after that settling down.

She's always wanted a house with a whole wall made of windows.

Mara's love languages are gift-giving and acts of service.

Mara has a few tattoos, most of which she's gotten in honor of the love of her life. The tattoos include a spaceship, an 8 ball, and an oak tree. Her others include a horseshoe on her wrist, a feather on her forearm, and a bull on her shoulder.

Mara is a lively and adventurous girl, but she's almost always been held back by her family.

Mara can shotgun a beer in record time and its one of her favorite party tricks

Mara can drive both a manual and an automatic transmission vehicle and she teaches her friends how to drive. She taught Cole how to both drive a car and ride a horse.

Mara struggled with her self-esteem as a child, in large part because of her family.

Mara has a younger sister who ran away when she was fifteen and Mara was sixteen. This affected Mara in a lot of ways. She hardly likes to talk about it.

Mara has a complicated relationship with her family, but nobody seems to really ever see her side of the story.

Mara meets Cole one summer when they're 18 years old. They fall in a love so deep and intense the relationship sustains long distance for three years, until Mara's family pressures her into marrying someone else to save their farm and livelihood.

She has never loved anyone more than she's loved Cole Berlusconi.

"When you're here with me, I like to think everything's gonna work out. I love you."

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"Matías... that's a beautiful name. The name of an angel. All these wonderful things about you, I want to know like the back of my hand, like the words to my favorite poems. I want to write poems with you, on you, because of you. My Matías D'Angelis. My love from another life."

-Yasue Kumagai

Matías D'Angelis, the librarian.

Full name: Matías Gabriel D’Angelis.

Age: 32 years old.

Birthday: 23rd November.

Sexual orientation: Pansexual.

Pet: Juno, the black kitty.

Personality.

Birth chart (big three): Sagittarius sun, Scorpio moon, Gemini rising.

MBTI: INTP-T.

Patron Arcana:  The Hermit.

Upright: Soul-searching, introspection, being alone, inner guidance.

Reversed: Isolation, loneliness, withdrawal.

Minor Arcana: Six of Cups.

Upright: Revisiting the past, childhood memories, innocence, joy.

Reversed: Living in the past, forgiveness, lacking playfulness.

Likes: Tea enthusiast, patchwork quilts made by his grandma, salamander stoves, when books are well-lived (coffee stains, worn out pages, annotations), open windows in every space he is in, black and white checker tiles on his bathroom, when Juno sits on his chest and purrs, thunderstorms, mint chocolate in every single way it could be ordered, blue soft cotton shirts, reuniting with the guys for friendly football matches on Fridays, when schools have a Library day and all the little kids say hi to him, the private section of the library where he only has access, knuckle and jaw kisses, foot massages, ivy growing on the side of his building, sealing cards with fancy wax, cooking for his loved ones, sunbathing at the river, brown corduroy jackets.

Dislikes: The sound of the kettle when the water is boiling, having to make his bed in the morning, when Juno climbs the trees near his balcony to sleep and has to wait for her to come back home, abrupt change, being so swamped in work he doesn’t have time to see his loved ones, the fact that his grandma is way too old now, when people lose their library card and has to do all the paperwork again, being late to things, bad grammar, feeling like he’s losing a debate.

Abilities: He’s a great swimmer and knows how to knit even if he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s incredibly good at crosswords (maybe because he spend his whole life with his nose in books), knows how to recycle paper and turn it into beautiful notebooks where we lays down different play plots ideas he wants to full-on write but is too afraid to actually do it.

Favourite food: Milanesas a la napolitana.

Favourite drink: Mint Iced Tea.

Favourite flower: Calla lillies.

Appearance.

Height: 6’1 ft or 185 cm.

Weight: 163 lbs or 74 kg.

Hair: He’s got dark brown hair with truly defined curls that he styles with a bit of hair wax, only a little bit, just for his curls to hold on for the entirety of the day. It’s a lot of hair but it’s not long per se, just really shaggy all over.

Eyes: His kind, sleepy, black eyes are so soft letting everyone see how he spend all night reading instead of getting a good night’s sleep. He also has dark circles under his eyes but his smile always hides them. A few wrinkles appeared when he turned 30 but they’re not super noticiable. 

General description: Even if he tries to hide his slender body with his clothes because he’s not that proud of his lack of muscles, his back is well defined and big, just a bit bony, but its decorated with a ton of little dark freckles that also appear in his chest, legs and arms. His most noticiable feature is his beautiful roman nose and that well-defined jawline. His eyebrows are kind of bushy but he combs them with a little spoolie brush his grandma gave him, and a few freckles appear all over his face when summer arrives and sun touches his face. He’s got veiny (cold) hands.

Fashion sense: Matías really likes layering. White or back cotton shirt, button up shirt, some dress grey or black slacks and Oxford shoes are his go-to outfit for work, depending on the weather he would usually wear a cardigan or a turtleneck sweater too. He would never leave without his watch on his left wrists and he isn’t that much of a fan of jewellery. Another outfit that’s pretty common for him is his soccer attire, jersey and sport shorts with his worn out cleats. In the privacy of his own home is very rare for him to wear a shirt and he prefers to walk around in his comfy blue square-pattern cotton pants.

A brief look into his life.

Occupation: The National Library of Maeth is gigantic to say the least and he’s been working at this place for the past ten years or so, he doesn’t even remember anymore. They have different sections and long, long corridors full of knowledge and fictional stories with space to sit down and read for hours. He’s the one to go for recommendations, to find an specific book or to check one out. Remember, you only have one month and it has to be returned in perfect conditions!

Love interest: 

Yasue Kumagai.

Family and friends:

Elsa Torrente D’Angelis, grandmother. 

Sergio D'Angelis, father.

Paz D’Angelis, half sibling. 

Juan Cruz D’Angelis, half sibling.

Anshelinah Circe, best friend.

Tomás, Marcos, Cole, Shuhei, Emilio and Draigh, his friend group.

Fiorella, Josefina and Dario, co-workers.

Miscellaneous facts:

He baby-talks ridiculously to Juno. It’s super embarrassing. 

He’s a tea connoisseur. Has a big box with different flavoured teas from all over the globe.

Surprisingly, he loves to go on outdoor adventures even more so if it means he’ll get to jump down big rocks to a body of water or zip line from mountain to mountain. 

He likes to visit his grandma at least once a week, whenever he can at least to say hello and drink a cup of tea with the lady.

He wants tattoos but is afraid of needles and sharp things. 

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"Oh baby girl, these are too hot. What I gotta do for you to make a matching one for me and Sisi? I think all three of us would be pretty stunning in something like this. The boys couldn't take us anywhere. Mi amorcita talentosa."

-Anshelinah Circe

📸 Isabella Zieragh: her best outfits for Soda Stereo's tour.

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

I'll Wait For You in Moonlight

Salice waited, watching the moonlight dance on the water of Lover's Lake. She'd returned to her best friend's house, where she'd been living, filled a basin with water, and taken a rose bath. She smelled of spring and looked like summer in a dress as white as a lamb. She'd prepared herself beautifully like she would meet god.

Tonight, she just might.

The moonlight washed over her like a milky drape, and it was this image that Thomas saw first as he approached her.

It wasn't but a few hours earlier that he'd gotten the courage to right what was going to be the most devastating wrong of his life. Laying next to the woman of his dreams in the St Augustine grass, he made the decision to call off the marriage he'd been dreading for months. The one-sided promise he'd been agonizing over.

"Breaking a one-sided promise is self-preservation."

Salice had never been so right. Then again, when Thomas thought about it, he couldn't ever recall a time when she was wrong.

When he saw her here, waiting for him in white, Thomas couldn't believe his eyes. He's struggled for so long to see clearly, to see something that wasn't an unattainable fantasy in his dreams. But he was looking at his fantasy now and it had finally become a reality.

"Salice?"

She turned, her dark curls tumbling down her shoulders, left bare by her romantic dress. Her green eyes were home.

"Thomas... I waited, just like you said."

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"I was so incredibly happy to plan this dinner to celebrate you. I hope you're okay with that. I know you're reserved, love, but you have so many people who love and care about you! They all came to bring you gifts and express how much good you've done in their lives...

That's what you do. Good. You're helpful and kind and strong and truly a pillar in Maeth's community. The whole town appreciates you. And I'm so proud of that. Proud to call myself your wife.

You do so much for others, so I am happy I can be the one who loves you and takes care of you when you need me. Everyone may adore you, but don't forget I'm the one who loves you most of all.

Happy birthday, Thomas. Here's to today, and many more beautiful tomorrows with the man I love more than life itself.

Happy birthday to you, my one and only love."

-Salice Halloway Zieragh

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"Good morning, my love. As I kiss you awake on this day, this very special day, I'm reminded how lucky I am to have you. I love you more than anything in the world, and today, on your birthday, I'll remind you of that. More celebrations to come, just you wait. But in the meantime, I'll make your favorite for breakfast and we can eat in bed, mh? With that something else you like too."

-Salice Halloway Zieragh

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"Matty! You found a fox? Oh, I'm coming over right now. Use your phone to call Ophie, we have to meet him! We promise not to bother him if he's sleeping. Que pequeño... Oh I love him already. Okay, on my way."

-Anshi

"Found him crying when I was walking home from Tom's house. He had splinters in his paws but it's all been taken cared of, so I guess.. Welcome to my new roomate?"

📸 Taken by Matías D'Angelis.

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

"W-why sure... I'd really like that. It's Marcos, right? I've seen you around. Matty has some really good friends. And I like coffee, you know. Did Matty tell you? Oh, about that coffee... Someday could be... Saturday morning... if you wanted. Oh, y no olvides traer un libro... pero nosotros no lo necesitaremos."

-Van Cruz

My Name? Oh, it's Van...

Van Cruz

Full name: Vance (Van) Manuel Cruz

Age: 28 years old

Birthday: November 13th

Sexual orientation: Demisexual (Male Leaning)

Pronouns: He/They

Familiar: Jali, the tabby cat

Personality:

Likes: Learning new things by reading, cloudy days, waking up in time to see everyone's morning commute, his eggs over easy and still runny, going to work early so he can come home earlier, freshly ironed clothes, going on coffee runs for his family or workplace, bagels and sweets, lazy afternoons with a good book, slow folkloric music to relax to, buffet restaurants, when the circus comes to town, playing baseball in the park, the dentist, provaleta, rollerskating, organizing documents, doing his friends' taxes, dressing up for Halloween, children, birdwatching, taking walks on the forest trails, painting his nails, playing billiards with his friends, jewelry, playing guitar, shopping in Maeth's retail district, the color purple, helping Marcos in the garage even if he doesn't know anything about automobiles, going to the cinema theater, picnics by Lover's Lake, bow ties, being a guest to parties and gatherings, waiting in line if he's with his friends, visiting the bakery to talk to the owners, long journeys, buying cute and useless bobbles at the antique store.

Dislikes: Hot days, working outdoors in the heat, arrogant or brash men, working long days with no breaks, when people get him expensive gifts he feels like he doesn't deserve, not having fresh produce in the house, having laundry to do on a rainy day, letting his home repairs pile up, neckties that are too long or too short, having too strict of a schedule, wearing suspenders, hosting things at his house, talking about his father or family in general, killing bugs, mowing his grass because it makes his nose runny, the color black, spending a long time in the bath because he gets wrinkly.

Abilities: Van has picked up a few trades here and there and has picked up the reputation of a "do it yourself" type of man. Back in Villa Noche, he's done his fair share of handiwork for pipes, roofs, fences, wagons, and all sorts of other things. He's had to work hard for all his book smarts, but he's incredibly intelligent and dedicated to learning. He becomes a library assistant in Maeth to further his knowledge. He's good at baseball, the most popular sport in Villa Noche. He can cook and bake okay, nothing exceptional. He really likes studying animals, specifically birds.

Favourite food: Ham & cheese empanadas. Provoleta

Favourite drink: Black coffee and Modelos

Favourite flower: The blooms of the Jacaranda tree

Appearance:

Height: 6'0 or 183 cm.

Weight: 140 lbs or 63 kg

Hair: Van has dusty brown hair, thick and silky. It's pretty easy to comb through and almost never tangles. He used to keep it short growing up, but since his decision to leave Villa Noche, he has been growing it long. It's to his shoulders now. He often keeps it back in a ribbon or a satin scrunchy. He likes to experiment with different hairstyles, but most of the time he likes a simple ponytail or his hair down by his shoulders. He has quite a few grey hairs that he's gathered over the years from stress, but now he's just convinced he's greying early. He hopes he doesn't bald too soon.

Eyes: Van has big, deep-set eyes, much like a squirrel. They're chocolate, just light enough to differentiate the iris from the pupil. They glow like maple syrup in the sun. He's got a distinct pair of long, dark lashes, and the skin around his eyes wrinkles when he smiles.

General description: Van is a soft-spoken and empathetic young man. He has a passion for learning both skills and learning about others. He has a host of bad habits he's been trying to unlearn, often struggling with interpersonal relationships between friends who aren't like-minded to him. He's polite and gentle, and he loves to keep in the company of others. Van is very generous and it shows in his everyday life. He is an excellent employee and a caring friend as he will go to great lengths to do more than what is asked of him for people he feels like deserve it.

Van is tall and lanky, sometimes incredibly awkward. He's grown to be more comfortable with himself but still has an awkward walk and a small stammer that stems from his low self-confidence. Van has long skinny legs and thin arms. For a man of many trades, he has quite delicate hands and he likes to keep his nails short. Van has a host of freckles all over his body, lightly washed over his face, but a more intense brown all over his back and arms. Van has thick brows and easily grows a beard, however, he likes to keep it shaved completely or, at the most, keeps a small mustache and stubble.

Van has a large aquiline nose with a distinct bump which is naturally the most distinguishing part of his face. Van's face is defined by high cheekbones and a naturally contoured jaw. His chin is pointed, and he does have a small cleft in the middle. Van has dimples when he smiles, making for a soft, more friendly appearance. Overall, Van is very handsome and his combination of features is quite unique.

Fashion sense: Van isn't overly particular about clothes. He's used to living in a very cold, mountainous region so he's used to dressing warmly. However, once he moves to the more central part of Maeth, he experiments with different styles since the weather is more temperate and isn't as limiting. For the most part, Van enjoys a denim pair of jeans, loose or tight fighting, with a long-sleeved shirt or a sweater of some type. He likes to layer, but always ends up rolling his sleeves to his elbows. He really loves an oversized cardigan. Van usually sports leather or vinyl boots on a daily basis. Sometimes for a more casual look, Van likes cork sandals. Van comes to find that he likes sneakers and is impressed with Central Maeth's wide variety of shoe stores and shoe styles.

A brief look into his life:

Occupation: During his years in Villa Noche, a small village in mountainous Souther Maeth, Van was a sheep and livestock herder like his father. He'd go around doing odd jobs for extra cash since he barely saw any take home from his and his father's work. Upon moving to Central Maeth, Van saw an opportunity for learning and decided to apply as one of the library assistants. He wasn't particularly well-versed in books, but he brought to the table an eagerness and willingness to learn and help others. He often goes to Maeth's primary school library to read to the children there or bring them books they might not otherwise have access to. He likes to pop in at the petting zoo from time to time.

Love interest:

Marcos

Family and friends:

Valerio Cruz, father

Rosalie Rivera, mother

Ignacio Rivera, stepfather

Penelope Rivera, sister

Oliver Rivera, half brother

Petra Moretti, former love interest and best friend in Villa Noche

Nina Yanez and Marnie Ursil, close friends in Villa Noche

Lalo Hernandez, estranged friend in Villa Noche

Fausto Guerra, rival in Villa Noche

Linda Firraldi, former teacher

Marcos, love interest and partner

Thomas, Cole, Matías, and Emilio, his best friends.

Victor Esperanza, mentor at the Maethisse College of Literary Arts

Miscellaneous facts:

Despite an unathletic appearance, Van is really good at baseball and swimming. He is also very good at riding horses and has learned to do so from a very young age

Van is very good with children and animals and both tend to like and trust him easily

Van has many great ideas but often doesn't share them

Van doesn't anger easily, so when you've made him angry you know you've gone too far

Van isn't typically one to forgive and can easily hold a grudge, despite his soft nature

In Villa Noche, Van started participating in bull running and bull riding to fit in since the dangerous sport was considered 'cool' amongst all the young men there. He got to be quite good at it, much to the annoyance of his peers

Most of Van's friends have been girls, which is the main contributor to his empathetic and kind nature

When younger, Van found other boys intimidating and difficult to get along with. He can count on one hand how many close male friends he's had in his life.

Van kept his sexuality private for a very long time, and upon arriving in Central Maeth, he feels relief in not having to hide anymore

Van isn't afraid to explore cosmetic enhancements and body modifications and has often expressed a desire for a nose job or fillers

Van likes piercings on himself and others, but he's yet to get anything beyond a nose ring and double ear piercings.

Although Van appreciates having feminine qualities, he often still opts for a mostly masculine appearance and prefers that in his partners

Story:

Vance Manuel Cruz was born to his mother and father in the small mountain village known as Villa Noche. Quite secluded from the rest of the country, the village of less than one hundred had to be quite sustainable on its own. Because of that, most of the townspeople had practical professions and lived humble lives. Van's father was a sheep herder and a keeper of livestock, while his mother was a seamstress. From a young age, Van had been trained in his father's line of work. He took to it easily enough, not to say it was something he preferred. He did, however, enjoy working with the animals. He was never any good at slaughtering them.

Van had a good relationship with his mother, who often tried to hide the abusive nature of her marriage from her only son. Her husband, and Van's father, Valerio, was a very traditional man. In this sense, he worked long hours and prioritized his duties outside of the home. His wife's responsibilities amounted to taking care of the home, their child and also working long hours. Valerio didn't allow Rosalie many freedoms and she was often unhappy. Their fights would sometimes come to blows when Van wasn't around. The most prominent disagreement between them was that Valerio wanted more children, and Rosalie did not. Life was hard enough already. They didn't have much money, time or means. Having another child would be impossible.

When Van was four or five years old, Rosalie discovered she was pregnant again, this time with a daughter. She kept it a secret from her husband. Not being able to stomach the uncertain future they would both have in Villa Noche, Rosalie gathered what little possessions belonging to her and planned quietly to move away. Although she desperately wanted to take Van with her, Rosalie knew her limitations. There was nobody to help her travel north, and it would be harder with Van with her. It would also give Valerio more cause to run after her. Ultimately she had to convince herself that Van would be okay here in Villa Noche, and she disappeared in the middle of the night, never to return.

After Rosalie's disappearance, Valerio became incorrigible. He was always angry, speaking about how ungrateful Rosalie was. For Van this was difficult. He didn't know who to believe. His father and the preconceived notions of the townspeople, or whatever information he'd gathered about his parents' relationship managed to slip between the cracks.

The more his father spoke ill of her, the more Van began hating his mother.

Van soon took the role of his own mother, taking care of their home as well as himself and his father. He began learning how to cook meals and keep everything clean, doing laundry and maintenance. He took up his mother's place in more ways than one. Van had a very busy schedule between helping his father with the livestock and all of the house chores. He hardly had any time to play, as a child should do.

Valerio seemed to have nobody left to push around, so he set his sights on Van. He was very critical of him, complaining when things weren't done up to his standard. He would lament about not having Rosalie around and that Van was a lousy replacement. Van was often the butt of jokes his father would make at his expense, discussing how he'd make a much better daughter than a son. This bothered Van a lot, but it bothered him more once he began discovering things about himself.

Due to Villa Noche's small population and the value placed on practical work, there wasn't much in the way of formal education. Because of this, Van didn't attend school for very long. There was one schoolhouse in the village that the children could attend. Not very many did because they were helping their families with the labor-intensive work required at home. Between his duties at home, Van attended school as much as he could, much to the disapproval of his father. Here, he learned to read at a basic level and was taught basic mathematics.

The schoolhouse was shut down as the school teacher, who had become a safe and trusted adult to Van, was moving away. Her name was Linda Firraldi. She was a widow and had no means to provide for herself here. The teaching she was doing went unpaid. Many of the children were saddened by this news and donated money to her so that she could afford to leave. Some of the parents were upset by this news, while others were in support of Linda. Since Villa Noche did not have a formal government, not much could be done to accommodate her. Linda didn't want to be a pity case either. So it was decided. Van was so upset that his teacher was leaving, realizing he'd be without a friend and without a safe place to hide from his responsibilities.

All through Van's late adolescence, he struggled to make friends. All of his time was spent at his house or at work. One day, when Van was about eleven years old, he got a knock on his door. He looked through the window to discover it was a girl about his age. Hurrying to open it so his father wouldn't, Van was face to face with one of his former peers from the schoolhouse.

Petra Moretti.

They hadn't been well acquainted then, but Van distinctly remembered her long dark hair and her delicate features. He thought she was so beautiful and well-spoken. Her mother had been friends with Rosalie.

"Hey... hey Petra."

"Hi, Vance. Is your dad home?"

Van quickly nodded. Petra held a small piece of paper in her hands.

"Yeah... he is. Why, did you need him for something?"

Petra shook her head. Handing the piece of paper to Van.

"No... I actually came to see you. I'll make it quick, but my mom and I are holding school lessons at our house. I was hoping maybe you'd come."

Van looked down at the paper, then back at Petra. This was the first time he felt like one of his peers actually cared for him.

"Yeah... yeah I'll try to make it if I can..."

Van was already hesitant as he didn't have any school supplies or anything left from his time at the schoolhouse. He was also afraid that his father would find out. He'd been so relieved when Van stopped attending school, so he definitely intended on keeping this a secret. Petra knew the look on his face.

"Don't worry about the books or anything. We have everything you need."

Van wanted to count all the freckles on her face. He couldn't do it because he didn't know enough numbers.

"Thank you, Petra..."

Before she turned to leave, a cold gust of wind blew her hair back. Her cheeks were red. It made Van's stomach warm.

"Anytime. And Van?"

"Yeah?"

"He doesn't have to find out."

Van looked at that piece of paper all night. It had a list of times that they would meet, written in Petra's neat handwriting. The subjects were on a rotating schedule, so everyone would learn a little bit of everything at some point. There was even a class on Saturday. Van had never been more excited.

So in secret, Van started to attend school at Petra's house. Her father, Gino was one of the village's farmers. He was well respected in Villa Noche and spent long hours at their patch of land some miles out of the village. Petra's young mother, Julietta, made jams and preserves that she sold at the market. She was also a midwife and had helped deliver many of the children that attended her house for school, including Van.

He learned a great many things there and began friendships with some other kids. He got a hunger for knowledge and a taste for learning. In his early teens, Van spent a lot of time at Petra's house. He learned how to make jam with Julietta and he and Petra would spend all afternoon reading and learning together. They would make lists of things they wanted to learn about. Petra would ask her father to see some of the traveling merchants and request books on the subjects. Gino would come with books from all over Maeth for Petra and Van to share. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Van was even able to confide in her about his suffering relationship with his father. He felt like she was able to understand.

In his time learning there, Van met a few other boys his age. He'd refrained from befriending boys in the past, because of conflicting feelings he's had toward them. Despite this, one boy named Lalo Hernandez managed to win him over. Lalo was the son of a metal worker and a seamstress. He was kind, but rowdy with a crooked smile and a lazy eye. He adopted Van into his group of friends. Van thought it felt good to be accepted. His father spoke less ill of him when he discovered he had some friends that would be a masculine influence. The group would often play baseball in the field, travel the forest together, and share stories over their father's alcohol. They would provoke and fearlessly hop atop the bulls of the village to feel danger and impress the girls. Van loved the security that group provided him, but he couldn't help but feel he was an imposter.

Friendship with Lalo and his buddies felt like a double-edged sword. Van was often teased because he wasn't like them. Lanky and awkward, he often felt out of place next to his muscular, confident counterparts. They teased him when he refused the advances of girls and didn't participate in their locker room talk. They joked that Van was only their friend so that he could see them bathe naked. Lalo assured Van it was all just childish jokes. Van wasn't sure that they were, but for years he stayed. Finally accepted by his father, the feeling of belonging coerced him to stay close to the same people he couldn't fully relate to. They liked Van well enough, but Van had again found himself a house with no home.

Van grew older, into a young man. He kept with his studies at Petra's house and with his work herding his family's sheep. He kept with Lalo his group of village misfits through all their ups and downs. Van found his friendship with Petra to be the type of friendship he preferred. It was gentle, nurturing, and intimate. As Petra began to discover herself, their friendship crossed over into something more. She was a beautiful young woman, but Van discovered that wasn't why he was infatuated with her. He loved how he could let his walls come down around her. He loved how they could touch each other and feel safe. Petra was never threatened by Van, nor Van by her. Their physical relationship came long after their strong emotional connection and it was one of discovery.

Van couldn't help but feel drawn to his friends. He explained what he felt to Petra after long contemplation. He explained how Lalo, with his swagger and his ruggedness, made him feel things. Things he was ashamed of but told her anyway. Petra listened.

"Would you be happier with someone like that? With Lalo?"

Van shook his head, quickly putting himself in that situation. He didn't like what he imagined.

"Oh no... I can't have a conversation with any of them about anything important, Petra... I feel like it's so hard to connect to them like I connect with you. I don't want to be with someone like that... I just think he's..."

"Beautiful. Your body thinks he's beautiful, doesn't it? And it feels things when you see him."

Van nods. He was so surprised by her insight.

"How'd you know?"

She shrugs.

"Because that's the feeling I'm missing. Mama said I was supposed to feel things in my body when I look at a boy... Nina too. But I don't. Not what they speak about."

Van rubs his chin.

"What do you feel when you look at me?"

Petra smiles. The kind of smile that reminds Van what real love is.

"The same thing you feel."

It was safety, understanding, companionship, love, and all these other words they already knew.

By the time he was seventeen, Van could consider himself Petra's boyfriend. They spent most of their time together beyond their work, and Van often stayed over at her family's house.

Petra was so happy with Van. The pair had decided to keep their love private for a long time, and Van was okay with that. He actually preferred it. As much as he wanted to prove himself to his father and his friends, he realized that wasn't what he wanted. That was what his surroundings conditioned him to want. His desire to protect Petra and her virtue was far greater.

As they approached the common age of marriage, tensions reached an unbearable point within his group of friends over his relationship with Petra. She was well sought after by the boys of the village because of her beauty and poise. She received endless advances and pursuits from the young men in town, but to all of them, she refused. They despised how close Van was to her, calling it a waste.

"You don't even like girls, Vance. You could at least let one of us put her to good use."

This was the statement that angered him the most. As if Petra's womanhood had anything to do with why he loved her.

Van had always known he didn't see women as toys or things or objects. What he had only recently discovered is that not everyone felt the same. He was beginning to realize why his mother had left his father. He feared finding out the things she'd endured that made her think her only option was disappearing into the night without him.

The friends were beginning to fall apart and they would often bicker over Petra's affections. They would relentlessly harass Van about her most intimate details, but he would never provide so much as a clue. Just the thought that Van had to shield her from their prying eyes was enough to justify his relationship with her. He would be with her. They would never be.

One of their group, Fausto Guerra, was particularly vile. He was the son of the tavern master. Van had never liked Fausto. Fausto was his foil, his antichrist. He was the most braggadocious person he'd ever met. He was haughty, arrogant, and self-important. He expected others to serve him, and his mouth demanded respect before his hands warranted it. His crass opinions of women and his love for alcohol rubbed Van's skin raw with contempt. His greed was insatiable and he had boasted of deflowering many girls in the village. Van doubted the consensuality of his claims. In many ways, Fausto reminded Van of his father. He hated that.

Fausto loved to proclaim that one day he would 'conquer' Petra and make her his wife. Van would die before that would ever happen.

Fausto would buy Petra all the most elaborate gifts in an effort to get her to agree to marry him. Petra would always politely refuse them, as her mind was made up.

"Why doesn't he ever listen Vance?"

Van spared her from the disgusting things that entered his mind from Fausto's lips.

"Because men don't know how to listen."

Her laugh lifted like a feather in the wind.

"You do."

"Yeah, well sure Petra... but I'm different."

"Sure you are... and that's why I love you."

Petra looked out the four-pane window, a book in her lap. Her hair was to her waist now. Vance would brush it often and put it in a ribbon for her.

"It's laughable to think Fausto expects me to consider him at all. I would never marry a man like him."

Van lays on her bed with his arm above his head. His eyes couldn't choose between Petra's elegant form and the orrery hanging from her ceiling. He had a small, teasing smile.

"Why ever not, Petra?"

Her playful scoff made Van warm inside.

"Because I have bigger plans for my life than to be the wench of an insufferable tyrant."

Van chuckled.

"That we do, Petra. That we do."

This wasn't the end of Fausto's advances. When Petra was at the tavern with their friends Nina and Marnie, Fausto tried again. Her answer would always be no. She just feared what this exchange would bring. She knew men often became dangerous when humiliated.

Van had heard the whole commotion from outside the tavern. He'd finished up his work for the day. The sheep were sheared and in the northern pasture. He'd made plans to join Petra and their friends at the tavern for a drink, then walk Petra home. He hadn't known what Fausto had planned on doing. The way things went, he assumed nobody had. When Van arrived a crowd had gathered around the door.

He heard yelling. He heard a glass break. He heard Petra's angry yell.

"I said no, Fausto! No! Doesn't a woman's word mean anything to you? You ask, ask, ask, but it does not mean you will receive. I say no and you do not listen. What kind of marriage would that make for me? Answer me that!"

Van could hear the tears in her voice. He shoved through the crowd and had seen Petra wrapped around herself. Nina and Marnie were in a wall between her and her aggressor. Fausto was red in the face. He grabbed her drink and threw it on the stone floor, glass scattering across the floor like shrill mice.

"Why won't you just give in, huh? I've done everything a man could possibly do. You're so ungrateful. You'll see, Petra! You'll die a spinster. You wouldn't know a good man if one fell into your bed."

Van saw Petra, his poetic and poised Petra, falling apart at the seams. He saw her cowering behind her friends. He saw her dainty hands shake as she held them close to her chest. He saw that the silver button on the cuff of her blouse was gone, the threads slithering out like snakes. Van pictured Fausto reaching out to hurt her. This sent Van into a rage.

"Get out of here, Fausto."

Van parted the crowd like a sea, taking a few steps in front of Marnie and Nina. Even though Van towered over the brute, he couldn't tip the scale at half his weight. Fausto glowered at him, broken glass crunching under his boots.

"And what are you going to do?"

Van clenched his fist. For the first time, he did not know fear. All he felt was anger.

"What do you think?"

"I think you're a bitch, Vance Cruz. You always have been. A bitch like Petra knows how to pick 'em."

Van didn't remember anything after that.

There were flying fists and blood and teeth.

Fausto's father had to pull Van away from Fausto. By then there was blood on the floor, his face, and splattered all over his shirt. Some had gathered to watch, and some had fled. Van didn't feel pain. He felt satisfaction. He didn't hear Mr. Guerra yelling at him to leave. He just heard the ringing in his ears. He didn't see the surprise on the faces around him. He just saw him with his eyes swollen shut, barely recognizable on the ground. Anyone else wouldn't have been able to tell if that was Fausto Guerra or not. This made Van happy.

He reached out for Petra. She went into his arms like it was the only safe place in the world. Van didn't regain his sentience until all four of them had made headway to Petra's house in Marnie's mage light.

After they'd made it out of earshot of the tavern, Petra burst into tears. It broke Van's heart. He'd never seen her so upset, violated, and vulnerable. They supported her along the beaten path to her house on the hill. She'd cried so much she'd exhausted herself, and Van had to carry her. When they got back, Nina and Marnie helped her wash up. Van did the same, helping himself to one of Gino's shirts. He was out of town trading with another village to the east. He wouldn't miss it. When Van had finished, they all went to Petra's room, surrounding her with love and support as she fell asleep in Van's grasp.

"So what happened?" Van asked quietly.

Marnie could feel the anger melting off him in waves. In all the years she'd known Van, she didn't think he was capable of such raw, unchanneled fury. He'd always been so gentle to them.

They sat on the bed together, Marnie's calming magic seeping into Petra's skin.

"Fausto walked into the tavern with a grand gesture. He had flowers and gifts for Petra. We all looked at each other not knowing what to do. He came over to us and sat down next to Petra... He tried to hug and kiss her. Petra had pushed him away."

"We didn't know where he got that idea from," Nina said. "Petra has never wanted to share space with him, let alone touch him. Everyone knows Petra doesn't like being touched by just anyone. Everyone knows she doesn't like Fausto."

Van shakes his head and seethes. The look of worry on his friends' faces told him everything they didn't say with their words.

"And nobody tried to help you..." he mumbled. He wasn't surprised. There weren't many people brave enough to stand up to that tyrant Fausto. Not even the grown men of the village. Van hated that.

"No... we tried to ask him to leave before Petra get any more upset. I'm afraid he didn't take that well," Marnie continued in her soft voice. "He tried to calm her down with sweet talk and fake apologies. He was too dense to see it wasn't working. He ordered her another drink to get on her good side."

Van looked down at Petra, fast asleep in his arms. She only had good sides, but they were for people who were good to her.

"He grabbed her hand and tried to put the ring on her finger saying his much he fancied her... He'd torn the sleeve of her blouse when she tried to rip her hand away from him."

Nina scowled.

"After that, Fausto went berserk. He shoved all the empty glasses onto the floor and banged on the counter, raising his voice at Petra. She told him bravely to leave her alone, but he wasn't listening. We were scared, but we stood up to that pig. We told him to scram or we'd use our magic to blast him out of that shit hole..."

Nina wiped her face, trying not to let the tears escape. Marnie held her hand.

"And that's when you arrived."

Van placed a soft kiss on Petra's head, covering her shoulders with her quilt.

"I'm glad I arrived in enough time... and I'm sorry you three were alone."

Marnie smiled softly. "It's not your fault, Van."

Nina was chewing her finger. Van knew something was eating at her.

"What is it, Nina?"

"He's just... so horrible Van." She looked at Marnie and back to Van.

"She... told us not to tell you. But Fausto has been sending Petra letters."

"What kind of letters?" Van saw his vision get hazy.

Manie was the one to answer. "Very detailed letters of what he would do to her once they were married... Or even before. She hasn't felt safe and we've been staying with her every night until her parents return. She hadn't told anybody."

They told him while Petra slept in his arms. They sat there and told Van everything while the planets spun above them. Van's world seemed to stop. He was so sad for Petra. So sad that she didn't tell him. But he understood. He understood that sometimes people kept secrets because the minute you said them out loud they seemed too real for your comfort. Maybe she feared Van would do something stupid to stand up for her... and maybe she thought Van didn't stand a chance against Fausto.

Maybe.

Walking away from that fight with a bloody nose and a broken rib was the least of Van's worries. It showed how much of a man he'd grown into, despite the examples he'd been given. Van was proud of that.

Van didn't go against Penelope's wishes. He waited to see how Petra wanted things handled. Nina and Marnie had told him what happened when Gino came back. Petra told her father everything, sparing him a few details that would make her ashamed. Mr. Moretti settled things personally with Fausto. Petra had wanted to go and receive her apology. She brought her friends with her for support, and so they could get an apology as well.

Mr. Moretti brought the letters to Fausto's house, making Mrs. Guerra read them. Nina said that she'd never seen a woman so disgusted and offended. The letters made her cry. It was a hard pill for her to swallow, but she needed to see the son she raised. Marnie said she felt terrible for Mrs. Guerra. But she felt worse for Petra. She needed to see the son she and her husband raised.

Mr. Moretti told Mr. Guerra he would no longer provide his produce for his tavern and told Fausto he would kill him if he ever saw him near Petra again.

Fausto apologized to those girls, but it didn't mean as much to Petra as she had thought. Mr. Moretti asked her if she had anything to say.

"Until you raise a daughter of your own, Fausto, you won't know the violation you're capable of projecting onto a woman. And I hope you never have the chance to. I feel sorry for your future wife, and I feel sorry for your mother. I feel sorry that I ruined her perception of you, but you deserve to have your reputation ruined. Since your precious reputation is the only thing I could ruin to make you see the value of a woman's life."

And Petra had spit on him.

Van had just wished he could be there for that. Because when they told him it was all over, it didn't feel like enough.

It was a few months after that, Petra told Van she had decided to leave Villa Noche.

"We're moving to the north so I can study, Van. You should come with us."

It was a casual conversation over provoleta at the Moretti household. Van nearly spits out his drink.

Van didn't know what to make of that. He'd worked so hard to make himself belong in a place he didn't. Now the opportunity to travel abroad with the family who took him in was right here... He didn't know what he'd do.

They'd all talked about it. Gino had a few prospects for their farm lined up. The money from that should be enough to get them anywhere they needed to go. Anything else they sold would be extra cash in their pockets. Julietta was so excited, looking forward to moving to a new place and supporting her daughter's ambitions. They invited Van with open arms. He was a part of their family for more than a decade. They knew he came from a situation that he really wanted to leave. There was never a doubt in their mind that Van was going to be a part of that family for the rest of their lives.

Van felt honored. He had wanted to go. He really, really did. He wanted to go with them, with Petra, but something was telling him not to.

He'd gone home and thought it over. He talked to his friends about it casually, the ones he really trusted anyhow.

Lalo had told him it was self-sabotage, he should just move with them.

"It's a big wide world out there Vance. There are opportunities taller than the mountains."

Van wanted to believe him, but things weren't so simple. He wished to all the planets that it was.

Until this point, Van and Petra had discussed their relationship so regularly. They were best friends. They were two people who shared intimacy and felt safe when making love with one another. Petra and Van loved each other more than the world itself. They discovered many things by being together.

Petra didn't love men. Petra loved Van. Van loved women, but in the way that he wanted to be one and was envious that he wasn't. He still wasn't sure what that meant. Petra was okay with that.

Van desired men in the way Petra did not. Although he'd found this out about himself, Van knew there wasn't a single man he could fall in love with like he had fallen in love with Petra. He asked himself why. Why, why why.

Because Petra was Petra. A soft, sensitive, caring woman that opened the doors to space and time. She was the woman that changed his life.

There wasn't a man Petra could see herself in love with... because there was no man like Van.

Van understood Petra and Petra understood Van. She was the only one who had known his secrets and he was the only one who understood hers. Their lusts and confusion and their skeletons in the closet that, when in each other's company, never seemed so bad.

Their bond was so strong and although they thought they were soulmates, they realized you could be soulmates in a way that belies tradition. Their relationship had become... celestial.

But on the tangible side of things, Petra wanted so much more than Van was sure he could give her. She wanted to try out a big city. She wanted to study the stars. She wanted to love women. She wanted a different life than the one she had. Van was okay with her having all of those things. He wanted her to have those things. Petra had a feeling when she asked him...

She knew Van was unsure if he was okay with uprooting with her. She saw the stars from his eyes disappear and be replaced with uncertainty.

"So you're not coming with us... are you, Vance?"

Van couldn't help the tears in his eyes.

"I don't know... What if I.. what if it's not the right thing for me?"

Petra smiled through her disappointment.

She couldn't help but think it was Van's sweet way of saying

'What if you're not the right thing for me'?

Van tried to think of something, anything to say. He had some things lined up, but he knew those words were already written in Petra's mind. She'd already read and memorized them.

And she'd forgiven him too.

"That's okay. You'll find the right thing for you, Van. I'll write to you."

"You will?"

Petra sniffled and wiped his face with her bare fingers. He was honored. She'd normally reserve her pocket kerchief for something like that. He'd miss these things about her.

"Of course, I will. I'll tell you all about my studies, and mama and papa too. Just don't move away before I do, okay? You have to promise."

Van cupped Petra's face and gave her the kiss he hoped she'd never forget.

"I promise, Petra."

"Are you going to be okay... with your father?"

Van didn't know. He didn't want to worry her. He'd grown into a man now. Whatever issues he had, he would face them head-on. He wouldn't have Petra to cry to anymore. He couldn't hide under the covers with her while his father drank himself into a stupor. He would really miss that.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry."

She nods and grabs the keys to the house from her pocket, looking over her shoulder at her father packing up their wagon.

"We sold the farm to Nina's family, but the house is yours. I told Papa that I wanted you to have it."

Van took those keys into his hands like they were sacred ambrosia.

"Petra... I don't know what- Petra... thank you."

"You're welcome, Van. I'm really going to miss you, you know."

Van took her into his arms and hugged her tight. He was going to miss her more than anything. The sobs in his throat were telling.

"We'll see each other again. When you're an astronomer discovering new stars in a capital city."

"Yeah... we will, won't we?"

"Sure, we will."

Gino's voice yelling for Petra was the calling card. Van found it so hard to let her go. They'd all said their goodbyes about thirty minutes ago when he was helping them pack up the wagon. But now it seemed real. It seemed too terrible to bear.

"I love you, Petra."

Then sunrise peeking behind the mountains cast a gorgeous ray of angelic light upon the face Van had loved. The face Van will always love. He'll remember that forever, the way his Petra looked.

"I know, Van. Don't worry."

___

It was four years after that day. Four years of living alone in Petra's old house. Four years of working in distant silence with his father. Four months of a dry spell that ruined the pastures. Four years of pining that he didn't understand over men he didn't want to love. Four years full of nights dragging your father out of one of the four bars in town. Four minutes of something with Lalo he never wanted to happen. Four long years of writing to Petra, reading how happy she was. Four long years of regret.

Van realized he did make the wrong choice. That was a realization he made hours after Petra had made her departure, but spent years trying to convince himself otherwise.

He wrote to her.

Dear Petra, I don't know how you'll take this. If it's with anger, I understand. If it's with pity, I agree. If it's with compassion, I'll be so ashamed. But I wish I came with you. The four years I've spent here were four years I'd rather have spent in a grave. I miss you. I miss being happy. I miss having meaning. I miss the strength that I had before that would've let me admit that. Petra, my muse, read the stars and tell me what to do. From, Van

When she read the letter she cried. She cried that Van hadn't found himself like she had. She was sad that he couldn't find what he wanted with her. She was sad that she was right. She was right all along that he wouldn't find himself in Villa Noche. She wrote back, tears still fresh in her eyes.

To Van, I take it with sadness. I'm sad you've lived with regret. I'm sad that you haven't been happy. I'm sad that you didn't tell me sooner. I don't need to read the stars to tell you what to do. I don't need to read them to tell you that it's not too late. You know you can come to me. You know you can always come to me and I will be here for you. But Van. You won't find yourself with me. If you didn't before, you won't now. I know that. You need to find yourself with you. Do as I did. Start today. Pick up everything you can bear to bring with you. Pack it in a bag. You're simple, I know you. All it will take is one bag. Take that bag and move away to somewhere you'd never think you'd go. It doesn't have to be grand. Make it suit you, Van. Move there and find a job you like. Maybe a job with sheep, maybe a job without them. I know how much you do like them. Find a place to learn. I know you'll be happier learning new things, just like we were. Once you've done that, write me a letter with everything you've felt over these years. Write me the truth. Let me listen. Or better yet, come visit me when those four years are just an unhappy memory that you'll tell me about in passing. I love you, Van. Go be happy. If not, you can always run back to my arms. Love, Your Petra

It took about three weeks for her letter to reach him. He cried his eyes out, reading it. But she had spoken. Petra was right. He had to go find him.

Van rose from the desk in his bedroom, the bedroom he once nearly shared with Petra. He grabbed his leather bag and began laying out clothes to put inside it. He searched the attic for a second suitcase. He'd prove Petra wrong at least once. He took a few things that belonged to her. Her small collection of hair scarves that he liked to wear sometimes and her rings that were much too small for him, but he liked to wear as necklaces. He pocketed the nail polish she'd left behind, deciding he'd be able to use it wherever he went. He applied a coat before he left.

He walked the thirty minutes to Nina's house. Knocking on the door, he felt the weight of the house keys in his hand.

Mrs. Yanez opened the door. She eyed the bag on his shoulder and the suitcase sitting behind him on the porch.

"Van? Hi honey, how are you? Going somewhere?"

Van smiled softly and tossed the keys in his hand, swinging them on his finger.

"I'm well, Mrs. Yanez. I actually am... I'm moving away. I talked it over with the Moretti's... they said to give you the keys to the house."

Needless to say, Mrs. Yanez was shocked. But she understood. She understood Villa Noche wasn't for everyone. If she was being honest, she wasn't entirely sure it was for her.

"Well, I'm sad you're leaving. I'll tell Nina you stopped by."

"That would be great, Mrs. Yanez. Thank you. Tell her I'll write."

"Of course, Van... Where are you going?"

He shrugs.

"When I figure that out, I'll let you know."

Van gives her a hug and leaves the keys with her. It was feeling real.

He went to tell his father. When Van walked into the front door, the young man found Valerio splayed out drunk in the living room. His snoring was so loud, it seemed to shake the paneled walls. Between the drunken slurs on the long walks home and the agitated mumbles when Van came to start the morning's work, Van and his father didn't speak very much. When they did it was about work. It had been a long while since Van had a decent conversation with his dad that didn't involve how many bags of wool were waiting to be washed, or where the grass was best for grazing. It had been a long while since they had a conversation at all. Van frowned, looking around his childhood home for a pen and some paper.

Going through the desk, he stumbled upon a faded picture of him and his mother. Van remembered those big, clunky cameras that would take his picture every year. He remembered going to the church with his mother where a few other people were taking photos too. They always had to wait a long time. It would be him and his mother, holding hands, waiting for their turn. His father never came. Van realized she must have the one who liked the family photos because when she left, his family had never taken another one. Van stared at it, the picture. He stared at his young face and the beautiful face of his mother whom he'd nearly forgotten. He shook his head and put it in his bag, paperclipped between the photos of him and Petra. He wished he could cry some tears about that photo. About how he was taking one of the only tangible things his father still had of his former wife. About how much he missed his mother. About how betrayed and lonely and angry he felt. He couldn't cry anymore. His feelings about this were so absent, it bothered him. Van wished he could cry, just to feel something. Feel something for this broken family.

Van remembered the paper. When he finally found some, he wrote a note.

I'm moving away. I won't be around to help you anymore. If you need anything, I hope there is someone you can call. Please don't forget about my sheep. -Van

He put the piece of paper on the messy kitchen counter, by the coffee press. He'd be sure to find it there. He took a long look around. He didn't recognize this home. He'd lived here for years, yes, but he couldn't recall happiness here. Petra was right. How could he ever have found himself in this mess?

A rustling in the half-open pantry caught Van's attention. There was a young cat making a mess out of the bag of grain on the floor. Van had seen it a few times when coming to tuck his father into bed after a long night who knows where. He'd made some trust with this cat, feeding it leftover fish from the pub and giving it milk from time to time. He assumed it was a stray that his father took in because his loneliness was killing him. Van's replacement. Van clicked his tongue. The cat was emaciated, ribs showing and all. This was no way to live. If Van was rescuing himself, he could make room for one more on the ship to salvation. He just hoped this cat was up for the adventure.

Van scooped up the cat and put him in his backpack. He curled up quite nicely in there. He must have known Van was trying to save him.

That was that. With all the moving and shuffling Van had done in the house, his father still hadn't sat up to see what the commotion was.

Van left without saying goodbye.

As Van was walking along the road out of town, he thought about Lalo. Their friendship had fallen apart ever since that day.

That fateful day.

It was Sunday.

Lalo and his friends were day drinking at the tavern and he'd come all the way to Van's pasture to find him and tell him to quit working for the day. Van had listened, for once. He wasn't one to spare any expense when caring for his animals. Lalo had helped him round up his sheep and put them back in their pen for the day. They'd not even washed up before they headed to resume their merriment.

The two of them were the last ones to leave.

Maybe Lalo had suspected him all along. Maybe he'd know what Van had been thinking of him. Maybe he'd been too afraid to say anything about it sober, risking his reputation and his street cred with his friends... but he thought he could explore all of it under the influence of drink. So they did.

Not for very long. It was a short time. But the hungry way Lalo kissed him was borne into his soul like a brand. It was nothing like the sweet love he'd bad to Petra. It was hard. It had hurt. It was rough. It was dirty. Van hated that he'd done it. All those years of fantasizing about his friend, a friend he didn't want to think of in such a carnal way... summed up to the heaviest guilt he'd felt in his life. And he walked away. For good.

He avoided Lalo after that day. Even when Lalo was begging him to stay. He put on his pants and disappeared, kept to himself as much as he could. He say Lalo less and less, and it hurt him, to watch a friendship die like that. He felt responsible for ruining it. What was worst of all, was that he told no one.

Lalo had chased him, asked him why. Why couldn't they try things out. Asked him if he hadn't been good enough in bed, if he didn't like boys like he thought he did. That wasn't it. It wasn't a question Van knew the answer to. Not right then. In short, Van told him he wanted to try it, and he did. He wished he never did. Not with him.

Van later realized it was that he placed such a price on Lalo and his affection that when he finally paid it... the cost was too much for too little. He thought sleeping with him would provide clarity to all his confusion... make him feel better. He thought it would give him closure and maybe even a relationship. He thought he could make something with Lalo like he'd made with Petra. Something beautiful and safe and sacred. At least he wanted to think that. But Van found out... the things he loved, truly loved, about Lalo, he had made up.

He never told him that. It would've hurt him too much.

Before he knew it, he was on the edge of town. He was really leaving. He'd made his plan before leaving his front door: travel the day to Lola, the nearest town near the base of the mountains, get a room, and in the morning find a wagon to take him north. While in thought, a deep, baritone voice roused him. A passerby on the road.

"You leaving?"

Van turned.

Speak of the devil.

"Oh... yeah. I am."

His lazy eye was squinting against the mid-afternoon sun, shining right in his face. By his bags, Lalo assumed Van was leaving for good.

"Well... I'll make sure your old man takes care of your flock."

The statement sat in Van's stomach like a stone.

"Thank you... I'm sure he'll need reminding."

Van wanted to hug Lalo goodbye. He missed Lalo's hugs. The hugs that he cherished and savored in secret where he'd smell his clothes and wonder what it was like to kiss him. Before Lalo ever knew what his insides felt like.

Hugging him now, he couldn't stomach the thought. The only hug he thought of now was the one locked in close with sweaty grunts in some foreign animal language. He felt bad, knowing Lalo probably wanted the same thing.

Van was quiet for a minute as they stood there, shoulder to shoulder facing opposite sides of their destiny.

"I'll miss you, Van. Maybe one day we can talk... about everything."

Van felt strange tears prick at the back of his eyes.

"Yeah... maybe one day we can... I'd like to."

"Me too."

"Take care of yourself, Lalo."

"You too."

And as Lalo's footsteps were the last to sound behind him, Van was off to start his new life.

[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

My Name? Oh, it's Van...

Van Cruz

Full name: Vance (Van) Manuel Cruz

Age: 28 years old

Birthday: November 13th

Sexual orientation: Demisexual (Male Leaning)

Pronouns: He/They

Familiar: Jali, the tabby cat

Personality:

Likes: Learning new things by reading, cloudy days, waking up in time to see everyone's morning commute, his eggs over easy and still runny, going to work early so he can come home earlier, freshly ironed clothes, going on coffee runs for his family or workplace, bagels and sweets, lazy afternoons with a good book, slow folkloric music to relax to, buffet restaurants, when the circus comes to town, playing baseball in the park, the dentist, provaleta, rollerskating, organizing documents, doing his friends' taxes, dressing up for Halloween, children, birdwatching, taking walks on the forest trails, painting his nails, playing billiards with his friends, jewelry, playing guitar, shopping in Maeth's retail district, the color purple, helping Marcos in the garage even if he doesn't know anything about automobiles, going to the cinema theater, picnics by Lover's Lake, bow ties, being a guest to parties and gatherings, waiting in line if he's with his friends, visiting the bakery to talk to the owners, long journeys, buying cute and useless bobbles at the antique store.

Dislikes: Hot days, working outdoors in the heat, arrogant or brash men, working long days with no breaks, when people get him expensive gifts he feels like he doesn't deserve, not having fresh produce in the house, having laundry to do on a rainy day, letting his home repairs pile up, neckties that are too long or too short, having too strict of a schedule, wearing suspenders, hosting things at his house, talking about his father or family in general, killing bugs, mowing his grass because it makes his nose runny, the color black, spending a long time in the bath because he gets wrinkly.

Abilities: Van has picked up a few trades here and there and has picked up the reputation of a "do it yourself" type of man. Back in Villa Noche, he's done his fair share of handiwork for pipes, roofs, fences, wagons, and all sorts of other things. He's had to work hard for all his book smarts, but he's incredibly intelligent and dedicated to learning. He becomes a library assistant in Maeth to further his knowledge. He's good at baseball, the most popular sport in Villa Noche. He can cook and bake okay, nothing exceptional. He really likes studying animals, specifically birds.

Favourite food: Ham & cheese empanadas. Provoleta

Favourite drink: Black coffee and Modelos

Favourite flower: The blooms of the Jacaranda tree

Appearance:

Height: 6'0 or 183 cm.

Weight: 140 lbs or 63 kg

Hair: Van has dusty brown hair, thick and silky. It's pretty easy to comb through and almost never tangles. He used to keep it short growing up, but since his decision to leave Villa Noche, he has been growing it long. It's to his shoulders now. He often keeps it back in a ribbon or a satin scrunchy. He likes to experiment with different hairstyles, but most of the time he likes a simple ponytail or his hair down by his shoulders. He has quite a few grey hairs that he's gathered over the years from stress, but now he's just convinced he's greying early. He hopes he doesn't bald too soon.

Eyes: Van has big, deep-set eyes, much like a squirrel. They're chocolate, just light enough to differentiate the iris from the pupil. They glow like maple syrup in the sun. He's got a distinct pair of long, dark lashes, and the skin around his eyes wrinkles when he smiles.

General description: Van is a soft-spoken and empathetic young man. He has a passion for learning both skills and learning about others. He has a host of bad habits he's been trying to unlearn, often struggling with interpersonal relationships between friends who aren't like-minded to him. He's polite and gentle, and he loves to keep in the company of others. Van is very generous and it shows in his everyday life. He is an excellent employee and a caring friend as he will go to great lengths to do more than what is asked of him for people he feels like deserve it.

Van is tall and lanky, sometimes incredibly awkward. He's grown to be more comfortable with himself but still has an awkward walk and a small stammer that stems from his low self-confidence. Van has long skinny legs and thin arms. For a man of many trades, he has quite delicate hands and he likes to keep his nails short. Van has a host of freckles all over his body, lightly washed over his face, but a more intense brown all over his back and arms. Van has thick brows and easily grows a beard, however, he likes to keep it shaved completely or, at the most, keeps a small mustache and stubble.

Van has a large aquiline nose with a distinct bump which is naturally the most distinguishing part of his face. Van's face is defined by high cheekbones and a naturally contoured jaw. His chin is pointed, and he does have a small cleft in the middle. Van has dimples when he smiles, making for a soft, more friendly appearance. Overall, Van is very handsome and his combination of features is quite unique.

Fashion sense: Van isn't overly particular about clothes. He's used to living in a very cold, mountainous region so he's used to dressing warmly. However, once he moves to the more central part of Maeth, he experiments with different styles since the weather is more temperate and isn't as limiting. For the most part, Van enjoys a denim pair of jeans, loose or tight fighting, with a long-sleeved shirt or a sweater of some type. He likes to layer, but always ends up rolling his sleeves to his elbows. He really loves an oversized cardigan. Van usually sports leather or vinyl boots on a daily basis. Sometimes for a more casual look, Van likes cork sandals. Van comes to find that he likes sneakers and is impressed with Central Maeth's wide variety of shoe stores and shoe styles.

A brief look into his life:

Occupation: During his years in Villa Noche, a small village in mountainous Souther Maeth, Van was a sheep and livestock herder like his father. He'd go around doing odd jobs for extra cash since he barely saw any take home from his and his father's work. Upon moving to Central Maeth, Van saw an opportunity for learning and decided to apply as one of the library assistants. He wasn't particularly well-versed in books, but he brought to the table an eagerness and willingness to learn and help others. He often goes to Maeth's primary school library to read to the children there or bring them books they might not otherwise have access to. He likes to pop in at the petting zoo from time to time.

Love interest:

Marcos

Family and friends:

Valerio Cruz, father

Rosalie Rivera, mother

Ignacio Rivera, stepfather

Penelope Rivera, sister

Oliver Rivera, half brother

Petra Moretti, former love interest and best friend in Villa Noche

Nina Yanez and Marnie Ursil, close friends in Villa Noche

Lalo Hernandez, estranged friend in Villa Noche

Fausto Guerra, rival in Villa Noche

Linda Firraldi, former teacher

Marcos, love interest and partner

Thomas, Cole, Matías, and Emilio, his best friends.

Victor Esperanza, mentor at the Maethisse College of Literary Arts

Miscellaneous facts:

Despite an unathletic appearance, Van is really good at baseball and swimming. He is also very good at riding horses and has learned to do so from a very young age

Van is very good with children and animals and both tend to like and trust him easily

Van has many great ideas but often doesn't share them

Van doesn't anger easily, so when you've made him angry you know you've gone too far

Van isn't typically one to forgive and can easily hold a grudge, despite his soft nature

In Villa Noche, Van started participating in bull running and bull riding to fit in since the dangerous sport was considered 'cool' amongst all the young men there. He got to be quite good at it, much to the annoyance of his peers

Most of Van's friends have been girls, which is the main contributor to his empathetic and kind nature

When younger, Van found other boys intimidating and difficult to get along with. He can count on one hand how many close male friends he's had in his life.

Van kept his sexuality private for a very long time, and upon arriving in Central Maeth, he feels relief in not having to hide anymore

Van isn't afraid to explore cosmetic enhancements and body modifications and has often expressed a desire for a nose job or fillers

Van likes piercings on himself and others, but he's yet to get anything beyond a nose ring and double ear piercings.

Although Van appreciates having feminine qualities, he often still opts for a mostly masculine appearance and prefers that in his partners

Story:

Vance Manuel Cruz was born to his mother and father in the small mountain village known as Villa Noche. Quite secluded from the rest of the country, the village of less than one hundred had to be quite sustainable on its own. Because of that, most of the townspeople had practical professions and lived humble lives. Van's father was a sheep herder and a keeper of livestock, while his mother was a seamstress. From a young age, Van had been trained in his father's line of work. He took to it easily enough, not to say it was something he preferred. He did, however, enjoy working with the animals. He was never any good at slaughtering them.

Van had a good relationship with his mother, who often tried to hide the abusive nature of her marriage from her only son. Her husband, and Van's father, Valerio, was a very traditional man. In this sense, he worked long hours and prioritized his duties outside of the home. His wife's responsibilities amounted to taking care of the home, their child and also working long hours. Valerio didn't allow Rosalie many freedoms and she was often unhappy. Their fights would sometimes come to blows when Van wasn't around. The most prominent disagreement between them was that Valerio wanted more children, and Rosalie did not. Life was hard enough already. They didn't have much money, time or means. Having another child would be impossible.

When Van was four or five years old, Rosalie discovered she was pregnant again, this time with a daughter. She kept it a secret from her husband. Not being able to stomach the uncertain future they would both have in Villa Noche, Rosalie gathered what little possessions belonging to her and planned quietly to move away. Although she desperately wanted to take Van with her, Rosalie knew her limitations. There was nobody to help her travel north, and it would be harder with Van with her. It would also give Valerio more cause to run after her. Ultimately she had to convince herself that Van would be okay here in Villa Noche, and she disappeared in the middle of the night, never to return.

After Rosalie's disappearance, Valerio became incorrigible. He was always angry, speaking about how ungrateful Rosalie was. For Van this was difficult. He didn't know who to believe. His father and the preconceived notions of the townspeople, or whatever information he'd gathered about his parents' relationship managed to slip between the cracks.

The more his father spoke ill of her, the more Van began hating his mother.

Van soon took the role of his own mother, taking care of their home as well as himself and his father. He began learning how to cook meals and keep everything clean, doing laundry and maintenance. He took up his mother's place in more ways than one. Van had a very busy schedule between helping his father with the livestock and all of the house chores. He hardly had any time to play, as a child should do.

Valerio seemed to have nobody left to push around, so he set his sights on Van. He was very critical of him, complaining when things weren't done up to his standard. He would lament about not having Rosalie around and that Van was a lousy replacement. Van was often the butt of jokes his father would make at his expense, discussing how he'd make a much better daughter than a son. This bothered Van a lot, but it bothered him more once he began discovering things about himself.

Due to Villa Noche's small population and the value placed on practical work, there wasn't much in the way of formal education. Because of this, Van didn't attend school for very long. There was one schoolhouse in the village that the children could attend. Not very many did because they were helping their families with the labor-intensive work required at home. Between his duties at home, Van attended school as much as he could, much to the disapproval of his father. Here, he learned to read at a basic level and was taught basic mathematics.

The schoolhouse was shut down as the school teacher, who had become a safe and trusted adult to Van, was moving away. Her name was Linda Firraldi. She was a widow and had no means to provide for herself here. The teaching she was doing went unpaid. Many of the children were saddened by this news and donated money to her so that she could afford to leave. Some of the parents were upset by this news, while others were in support of Linda. Since Villa Noche did not have a formal government, not much could be done to accommodate her. Linda didn't want to be a pity case either. So it was decided. Van was so upset that his teacher was leaving, realizing he'd be without a friend and without a safe place to hide from his responsibilities.

All through Van's late adolescence, he struggled to make friends. All of his time was spent at his house or at work. One day, when Van was about eleven years old, he got a knock on his door. He looked through the window to discover it was a girl about his age. Hurrying to open it so his father wouldn't, Van was face to face with one of his former peers from the schoolhouse.

Petra Moretti.

They hadn't been well acquainted then, but Van distinctly remembered her long dark hair and her delicate features. He thought she was so beautiful and well-spoken. Her mother had been friends with Rosalie.

"Hey... hey Petra."

"Hi, Vance. Is your dad home?"

Van quickly nodded. Petra held a small piece of paper in her hands.

"Yeah... he is. Why, did you need him for something?"

Petra shook her head. Handing the piece of paper to Van.

"No... I actually came to see you. I'll make it quick, but my mom and I are holding school lessons at our house. I was hoping maybe you'd come."

Van looked down at the paper, then back at Petra. This was the first time he felt like one of his peers actually cared for him.

"Yeah... yeah I'll try to make it if I can..."

Van was already hesitant as he didn't have any school supplies or anything left from his time at the schoolhouse. He was also afraid that his father would find out. He'd been so relieved when Van stopped attending school, so he definitely intended on keeping this a secret. Petra knew the look on his face.

"Don't worry about the books or anything. We have everything you need."

Van wanted to count all the freckles on her face. He couldn't do it because he didn't know enough numbers.

"Thank you, Petra..."

Before she turned to leave, a cold gust of wind blew her hair back. Her cheeks were red. It made Van's stomach warm.

"Anytime. And Van?"

"Yeah?"

"He doesn't have to find out."

Van looked at that piece of paper all night. It had a list of times that they would meet, written in Petra's neat handwriting. The subjects were on a rotating schedule, so everyone would learn a little bit of everything at some point. There was even a class on Saturday. Van had never been more excited.

So in secret, Van started to attend school at Petra's house. Her father, Gino was one of the village's farmers. He was well respected in Villa Noche and spent long hours at their patch of land some miles out of the village. Petra's young mother, Julietta, made jams and preserves that she sold at the market. She was also a midwife and had helped deliver many of the children that attended her house for school, including Van.

He learned a great many things there and began friendships with some other kids. He got a hunger for knowledge and a taste for learning. In his early teens, Van spent a lot of time at Petra's house. He learned how to make jam with Julietta and he and Petra would spend all afternoon reading and learning together. They would make lists of things they wanted to learn about. Petra would ask her father to see some of the traveling merchants and request books on the subjects. Gino would come with books from all over Maeth for Petra and Van to share. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Van was even able to confide in her about his suffering relationship with his father. He felt like she was able to understand.

In his time learning there, Van met a few other boys his age. He'd refrained from befriending boys in the past, because of conflicting feelings he's had toward them. Despite this, one boy named Lalo Hernandez managed to win him over. Lalo was the son of a metal worker and a seamstress. He was kind, but rowdy with a crooked smile and a lazy eye. He adopted Van into his group of friends. Van thought it felt good to be accepted. His father spoke less ill of him when he discovered he had some friends that would be a masculine influence. The group would often play baseball in the field, travel the forest together, and share stories over their father's alcohol. They would provoke and fearlessly hop atop the bulls of the village to feel danger and impress the girls. Van loved the security that group provided him, but he couldn't help but feel he was an imposter.

Friendship with Lalo and his buddies felt like a double-edged sword. Van was often teased because he wasn't like them. Lanky and awkward, he often felt out of place next to his muscular, confident counterparts. They teased him when he refused the advances of girls and didn't participate in their locker room talk. They joked that Van was only their friend so that he could see them bathe naked. Lalo assured Van it was all just childish jokes. Van wasn't sure that they were, but for years he stayed. Finally accepted by his father, the feeling of belonging coerced him to stay close to the same people he couldn't fully relate to. They liked Van well enough, but Van had again found himself a house with no home.

Van grew older, into a young man. He kept with his studies at Petra's house and with his work herding his family's sheep. He kept with Lalo his group of village misfits through all their ups and downs. Van found his friendship with Petra to be the type of friendship he preferred. It was gentle, nurturing, and intimate. As Petra began to discover herself, their friendship crossed over into something more. She was a beautiful young woman, but Van discovered that wasn't why he was infatuated with her. He loved how he could let his walls come down around her. He loved how they could touch each other and feel safe. Petra was never threatened by Van, nor Van by her. Their physical relationship came long after their strong emotional connection and it was one of discovery.

Van couldn't help but feel drawn to his friends. He explained what he felt to Petra after long contemplation. He explained how Lalo, with his swagger and his ruggedness, made him feel things. Things he was ashamed of but told her anyway. Petra listened.

"Would you be happier with someone like that? With Lalo?"

Van shook his head, quickly putting himself in that situation. He didn't like what he imagined.

"Oh no... I can't have a conversation with any of them about anything important, Petra... I feel like it's so hard to connect to them like I connect with you. I don't want to be with someone like that... I just think he's..."

"Beautiful. Your body thinks he's beautiful, doesn't it? And it feels things when you see him."

Van nods. He was so surprised by her insight.

"How'd you know?"

She shrugs.

"Because that's the feeling I'm missing. Mama said I was supposed to feel things in my body when I look at a boy... Nina too. But I don't. Not what they speak about."

Van rubs his chin.

"What do you feel when you look at me?"

Petra smiles. The kind of smile that reminds Van what real love is.

"The same thing you feel."

It was safety, understanding, companionship, love, and all these other words they already knew.

By the time he was seventeen, Van could consider himself Petra's boyfriend. They spent most of their time together beyond their work, and Van often stayed over at her family's house.

Petra was so happy with Van. The pair had decided to keep their love private for a long time, and Van was okay with that. He actually preferred it. As much as he wanted to prove himself to his father and his friends, he realized that wasn't what he wanted. That was what his surroundings conditioned him to want. His desire to protect Petra and her virtue was far greater.

As they approached the common age of marriage, tensions reached an unbearable point within his group of friends over his relationship with Petra. She was well sought after by the boys of the village because of her beauty and poise. She received endless advances and pursuits from the young men in town, but to all of them, she refused. They despised how close Van was to her, calling it a waste.

"You don't even like girls, Vance. You could at least let one of us put her to good use."

This was the statement that angered him the most. As if Petra's womanhood had anything to do with why he loved her.

Van had always known he didn't see women as toys or things or objects. What he had only recently discovered is that not everyone felt the same. He was beginning to realize why his mother had left his father. He feared finding out the things she'd endured that made her think her only option was disappearing into the night without him.

The friends were beginning to fall apart and they would often bicker over Petra's affections. They would relentlessly harass Van about her most intimate details, but he would never provide so much as a clue. Just the thought that Van had to shield her from their prying eyes was enough to justify his relationship with her. He would be with her. They would never be.

One of their group, Fausto Guerra, was particularly vile. He was the son of the tavern master. Van had never liked Fausto. Fausto was his foil, his antichrist. He was the most braggadocious person he'd ever met. He was haughty, arrogant, and self-important. He expected others to serve him, and his mouth demanded respect before his hands warranted it. His crass opinions of women and his love for alcohol rubbed Van's skin raw with contempt. His greed was insatiable and he had boasted of deflowering many girls in the village. Van doubted the consensuality of his claims. In many ways, Fausto reminded Van of his father. He hated that.

Fausto loved to proclaim that one day he would 'conquer' Petra and make her his wife. Van would die before that would ever happen.

Fausto would buy Petra all the most elaborate gifts in an effort to get her to agree to marry him. Petra would always politely refuse them, as her mind was made up.

"Why doesn't he ever listen Vance?"

Van spared her from the disgusting things that entered his mind from Fausto's lips.

"Because men don't know how to listen."

Her laugh lifted like a feather in the wind.

"You do."

"Yeah, well sure Petra... but I'm different."

"Sure you are... and that's why I love you."

Petra looked out the four-pane window, a book in her lap. Her hair was to her waist now. Vance would brush it often and put it in a ribbon for her.

"It's laughable to think Fausto expects me to consider him at all. I would never marry a man like him."

Van lays on her bed with his arm above his head. His eyes couldn't choose between Petra's elegant form and the orrery hanging from her ceiling. He had a small, teasing smile.

"Why ever not, Petra?"

Her playful scoff made Van warm inside.

"Because I have bigger plans for my life than to be the wench of an insufferable tyrant."

Van chuckled.

"That we do, Petra. That we do."

This wasn't the end of Fausto's advances. When Petra was at the tavern with their friends Nina and Marnie, Fausto tried again. Her answer would always be no. She just feared what this exchange would bring. She knew men often became dangerous when humiliated.

Van had heard the whole commotion from outside the tavern. He'd finished up his work for the day. The sheep were sheared and in the northern pasture. He'd made plans to join Petra and their friends at the tavern for a drink, then walk Petra home. He hadn't known what Fausto had planned on doing. The way things went, he assumed nobody had. When Van arrived a crowd had gathered around the door.

He heard yelling. He heard a glass break. He heard Petra's angry yell.

"I said no, Fausto! No! Doesn't a woman's word mean anything to you? You ask, ask, ask, but it does not mean you will receive. I say no and you do not listen. What kind of marriage would that make for me? Answer me that!"

Van could hear the tears in her voice. He shoved through the crowd and had seen Petra wrapped around herself. Nina and Marnie were in a wall between her and her aggressor. Fausto was red in the face. He grabbed her drink and threw it on the stone floor, glass scattering across the floor like shrill mice.

"Why won't you just give in, huh? I've done everything a man could possibly do. You're so ungrateful. You'll see, Petra! You'll die a spinster. You wouldn't know a good man if one fell into your bed."

Van saw Petra, his poetic and poised Petra, falling apart at the seams. He saw her cowering behind her friends. He saw her dainty hands shake as she held them close to her chest. He saw that the silver button on the cuff of her blouse was gone, the threads slithering out like snakes. Van pictured Fausto reaching out to hurt her. This sent Van into a rage.

"Get out of here, Fausto."

Van parted the crowd like a sea, taking a few steps in front of Marnie and Nina. Even though Van towered over the brute, he couldn't tip the scale at half his weight. Fausto glowered at him, broken glass crunching under his boots.

"And what are you going to do?"

Van clenched his fist. For the first time, he did not know fear. All he felt was anger.

"What do you think?"

"I think you're a bitch, Vance Cruz. You always have been. A bitch like Petra knows how to pick 'em."

Van didn't remember anything after that.

There were flying fists and blood and teeth.

Fausto's father had to pull Van away from Fausto. By then there was blood on the floor, his face, and splattered all over his shirt. Some had gathered to watch, and some had fled. Van didn't feel pain. He felt satisfaction. He didn't hear Mr. Guerra yelling at him to leave. He just heard the ringing in his ears. He didn't see the surprise on the faces around him. He just saw him with his eyes swollen shut, barely recognizable on the ground. Anyone else wouldn't have been able to tell if that was Fausto Guerra or not. This made Van happy.

He reached out for Petra. She went into his arms like it was the only safe place in the world. Van didn't regain his sentience until all four of them had made headway to Petra's house in Marnie's mage light.

After they'd made it out of earshot of the tavern, Petra burst into tears. It broke Van's heart. He'd never seen her so upset, violated, and vulnerable. They supported her along the beaten path to her house on the hill. She'd cried so much she'd exhausted herself, and Van had to carry her. When they got back, Nina and Marnie helped her wash up. Van did the same, helping himself to one of Gino's shirts. He was out of town trading with another village to the east. He wouldn't miss it. When Van had finished, they all went to Petra's room, surrounding her with love and support as she fell asleep in Van's grasp.

"So what happened?" Van asked quietly.

Marnie could feel the anger melting off him in waves. In all the years she'd known Van, she didn't think he was capable of such raw, unchanneled fury. He'd always been so gentle to them.

They sat on the bed together, Marnie's calming magic seeping into Petra's skin.

"Fausto walked into the tavern with a grand gesture. He had flowers and gifts for Petra. We all looked at each other not knowing what to do. He came over to us and sat down next to Petra... He tried to hug and kiss her. Petra had pushed him away."

"We didn't know where he got that idea from," Nina said. "Petra has never wanted to share space with him, let alone touch him. Everyone knows Petra doesn't like being touched by just anyone. Everyone knows she doesn't like Fausto."

Van shakes his head and seethes. The look of worry on his friends' faces told him everything they didn't say with their words.

"And nobody tried to help you..." he mumbled. He wasn't surprised. There weren't many people brave enough to stand up to that tyrant Fausto. Not even the grown men of the village. Van hated that.

"No... we tried to ask him to leave before Petra get any more upset. I'm afraid he didn't take that well," Marnie continued in her soft voice. "He tried to calm her down with sweet talk and fake apologies. He was too dense to see it wasn't working. He ordered her another drink to get on her good side."

Van looked down at Petra, fast asleep in his arms. She only had good sides, but they were for people who were good to her.

"He grabbed her hand and tried to put the ring on her finger saying his much he fancied her... He'd torn the sleeve of her blouse when she tried to rip her hand away from him."

Nina scowled.

"After that, Fausto went berserk. He shoved all the empty glasses onto the floor and banged on the counter, raising his voice at Petra. She told him bravely to leave her alone, but he wasn't listening. We were scared, but we stood up to that pig. We told him to scram or we'd use our magic to blast him out of that shit hole..."

Nina wiped her face, trying not to let the tears escape. Marnie held her hand.

"And that's when you arrived."

Van placed a soft kiss on Petra's head, covering her shoulders with her quilt.

"I'm glad I arrived in enough time... and I'm sorry you three were alone."

Marnie smiled softly. "It's not your fault, Van."

Nina was chewing her finger. Van knew something was eating at her.

"What is it, Nina?"

"He's just... so horrible Van." She looked at Marnie and back to Van.

"She... told us not to tell you. But Fausto has been sending Petra letters."

"What kind of letters?" Van saw his vision get hazy.

Manie was the one to answer. "Very detailed letters of what he would do to her once they were married... Or even before. She hasn't felt safe and we've been staying with her every night until her parents return. She hadn't told anybody."

They told him while Petra slept in his arms. They sat there and told Van everything while the planets spun above them. Van's world seemed to stop. He was so sad for Petra. So sad that she didn't tell him. But he understood. He understood that sometimes people kept secrets because the minute you said them out loud they seemed too real for your comfort. Maybe she feared Van would do something stupid to stand up for her... and maybe she thought Van didn't stand a chance against Fausto.

Maybe.

Walking away from that fight with a bloody nose and a broken rib was the least of Van's worries. It showed how much of a man he'd grown into, despite the examples he'd been given. Van was proud of that.

Van didn't go against Penelope's wishes. He waited to see how Petra wanted things handled. Nina and Marnie had told him what happened when Gino came back. Petra told her father everything, sparing him a few details that would make her ashamed. Mr. Moretti settled things personally with Fausto. Petra had wanted to go and receive her apology. She brought her friends with her for support, and so they could get an apology as well.

Mr. Moretti brought the letters to Fausto's house, making Mrs. Guerra read them. Nina said that she'd never seen a woman so disgusted and offended. The letters made her cry. It was a hard pill for her to swallow, but she needed to see the son she raised. Marnie said she felt terrible for Mrs. Guerra. But she felt worse for Petra. She needed to see the son she and her husband raised.

Mr. Moretti told Mr. Guerra he would no longer provide his produce for his tavern and told Fausto he would kill him if he ever saw him near Petra again.

Fausto apologized to those girls, but it didn't mean as much to Petra as she had thought. Mr. Moretti asked her if she had anything to say.

"Until you raise a daughter of your own, Fausto, you won't know the violation you're capable of projecting onto a woman. And I hope you never have the chance to. I feel sorry for your future wife, and I feel sorry for your mother. I feel sorry that I ruined her perception of you, but you deserve to have your reputation ruined. Since your precious reputation is the only thing I could ruin to make you see the value of a woman's life."

And Petra had spit on him.

Van had just wished he could be there for that. Because when they told him it was all over, it didn't feel like enough.

It was a few months after that, Petra told Van she had decided to leave Villa Noche.

"We're moving to the north so I can study, Van. You should come with us."

It was a casual conversation over provoleta at the Moretti household. Van nearly spits out his drink.

Van didn't know what to make of that. He'd worked so hard to make himself belong in a place he didn't. Now the opportunity to travel abroad with the family who took him in was right here... He didn't know what he'd do.

They'd all talked about it. Gino had a few prospects for their farm lined up. The money from that should be enough to get them anywhere they needed to go. Anything else they sold would be extra cash in their pockets. Julietta was so excited, looking forward to moving to a new place and supporting her daughter's ambitions. They invited Van with open arms. He was a part of their family for more than a decade. They knew he came from a situation that he really wanted to leave. There was never a doubt in their mind that Van was going to be a part of that family for the rest of their lives.

Van felt honored. He had wanted to go. He really, really did. He wanted to go with them, with Petra, but something was telling him not to.

He'd gone home and thought it over. He talked to his friends about it casually, the ones he really trusted anyhow.

Lalo had told him it was self-sabotage, he should just move with them.

"It's a big wide world out there Vance. There are opportunities taller than the mountains."

Van wanted to believe him, but things weren't so simple. He wished to all the planets that it was.

Until this point, Van and Petra had discussed their relationship so regularly. They were best friends. They were two people who shared intimacy and felt safe when making love with one another. Petra and Van loved each other more than the world itself. They discovered many things by being together.

Petra didn't love men. Petra loved Van. Van loved women, but in the way that he wanted to be one and was envious that he wasn't. He still wasn't sure what that meant. Petra was okay with that.

Van desired men in the way Petra did not. Although he'd found this out about himself, Van knew there wasn't a single man he could fall in love with like he had fallen in love with Petra. He asked himself why. Why, why why.

Because Petra was Petra. A soft, sensitive, caring woman that opened the doors to space and time. She was the woman that changed his life.

There wasn't a man Petra could see herself in love with... because there was no man like Van.

Van understood Petra and Petra understood Van. She was the only one who had known his secrets and he was the only one who understood hers. Their lusts and confusion and their skeletons in the closet that, when in each other's company, never seemed so bad.

Their bond was so strong and although they thought they were soulmates, they realized you could be soulmates in a way that belies tradition. Their relationship had become... celestial.

But on the tangible side of things, Petra wanted so much more than Van was sure he could give her. She wanted to try out a big city. She wanted to study the stars. She wanted to love women. She wanted a different life than the one she had. Van was okay with her having all of those things. He wanted her to have those things. Petra had a feeling when she asked him...

She knew Van was unsure if he was okay with uprooting with her. She saw the stars from his eyes disappear and be replaced with uncertainty.

"So you're not coming with us... are you, Vance?"

Van couldn't help the tears in his eyes.

"I don't know... What if I.. what if it's not the right thing for me?"

Petra smiled through her disappointment.

She couldn't help but think it was Van's sweet way of saying

'What if you're not the right thing for me'?

Van tried to think of something, anything to say. He had some things lined up, but he knew those words were already written in Petra's mind. She'd already read and memorized them.

And she'd forgiven him too.

"That's okay. You'll find the right thing for you, Van. I'll write to you."

"You will?"

Petra sniffled and wiped his face with her bare fingers. He was honored. She'd normally reserve her pocket kerchief for something like that. He'd miss these things about her.

"Of course, I will. I'll tell you all about my studies, and mama and papa too. Just don't move away before I do, okay? You have to promise."

Van cupped Petra's face and gave her the kiss he hoped she'd never forget.

"I promise, Petra."

"Are you going to be okay... with your father?"

Van didn't know. He didn't want to worry her. He'd grown into a man now. Whatever issues he had, he would face them head-on. He wouldn't have Petra to cry to anymore. He couldn't hide under the covers with her while his father drank himself into a stupor. He would really miss that.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry."

She nods and grabs the keys to the house from her pocket, looking over her shoulder at her father packing up their wagon.

"We sold the farm to Nina's family, but the house is yours. I told Papa that I wanted you to have it."

Van took those keys into his hands like they were sacred ambrosia.

"Petra... I don't know what- Petra... thank you."

"You're welcome, Van. I'm really going to miss you, you know."

Van took her into his arms and hugged her tight. He was going to miss her more than anything. The sobs in his throat were telling.

"We'll see each other again. When you're an astronomer discovering new stars in a capital city."

"Yeah... we will, won't we?"

"Sure, we will."

Gino's voice yelling for Petra was the calling card. Van found it so hard to let her go. They'd all said their goodbyes about thirty minutes ago when he was helping them pack up the wagon. But now it seemed real. It seemed too terrible to bear.

"I love you, Petra."

Then sunrise peeking behind the mountains cast a gorgeous ray of angelic light upon the face Van had loved. The face Van will always love. He'll remember that forever, the way his Petra looked.

"I know, Van. Don't worry."

___

It was four years after that day. Four years of living alone in Petra's old house. Four years of working in distant silence with his father. Four months of a dry spell that ruined the pastures. Four years of pining that he didn't understand over men he didn't want to love. Four years full of nights dragging your father out of one of the four bars in town. Four minutes of something with Lalo he never wanted to happen. Four long years of writing to Petra, reading how happy she was. Four long years of regret.

Van realized he did make the wrong choice. That was a realization he made hours after Petra had made her departure, but spent years trying to convince himself otherwise.

He wrote to her.

Dear Petra, I don't know how you'll take this. If it's with anger, I understand. If it's with pity, I agree. If it's with compassion, I'll be so ashamed. But I wish I came with you. The four years I've spent here were four years I'd rather have spent in a grave. I miss you. I miss being happy. I miss having meaning. I miss the strength that I had before that would've let me admit that. Petra, my muse, read the stars and tell me what to do. From, Van

When she read the letter she cried. She cried that Van hadn't found himself like she had. She was sad that he couldn't find what he wanted with her. She was sad that she was right. She was right all along that he wouldn't find himself in Villa Noche. She wrote back, tears still fresh in her eyes.

To Van, I take it with sadness. I'm sad you've lived with regret. I'm sad that you haven't been happy. I'm sad that you didn't tell me sooner. I don't need to read the stars to tell you what to do. I don't need to read them to tell you that it's not too late. You know you can come to me. You know you can always come to me and I will be here for you. But Van. You won't find yourself with me. If you didn't before, you won't now. I know that. You need to find yourself with you. Do as I did. Start today. Pick up everything you can bear to bring with you. Pack it in a bag. You're simple, I know you. All it will take is one bag. Take that bag and move away to somewhere you'd never think you'd go. It doesn't have to be grand. Make it suit you, Van. Move there and find a job you like. Maybe a job with sheep, maybe a job without them. I know how much you do like them. Find a place to learn. I know you'll be happier learning new things, just like we were. Once you've done that, write me a letter with everything you've felt over these years. Write me the truth. Let me listen. Or better yet, come visit me when those four years are just an unhappy memory that you'll tell me about in passing. I love you, Van. Go be happy. If not, you can always run back to my arms. Love, Your Petra

It took about three weeks for her letter to reach him. He cried his eyes out, reading it. But she had spoken. Petra was right. He had to go find him.

Van rose from the desk in his bedroom, the bedroom he once nearly shared with Petra. He grabbed his leather bag and began laying out clothes to put inside it. He searched the attic for a second suitcase. He'd prove Petra wrong at least once. He took a few things that belonged to her. Her small collection of hair scarves that he liked to wear sometimes and her rings that were much too small for him, but he liked to wear as necklaces. He pocketed the nail polish she'd left behind, deciding he'd be able to use it wherever he went. He applied a coat before he left.

He walked the thirty minutes to Nina's house. Knocking on the door, he felt the weight of the house keys in his hand.

Mrs. Yanez opened the door. She eyed the bag on his shoulder and the suitcase sitting behind him on the porch.

"Van? Hi honey, how are you? Going somewhere?"

Van smiled softly and tossed the keys in his hand, swinging them on his finger.

"I'm well, Mrs. Yanez. I actually am... I'm moving away. I talked it over with the Moretti's... they said to give you the keys to the house."

Needless to say, Mrs. Yanez was shocked. But she understood. She understood Villa Noche wasn't for everyone. If she was being honest, she wasn't entirely sure it was for her.

"Well, I'm sad you're leaving. I'll tell Nina you stopped by."

"That would be great, Mrs. Yanez. Thank you. Tell her I'll write."

"Of course, Van... Where are you going?"

He shrugs.

"When I figure that out, I'll let you know."

Van gives her a hug and leaves the keys with her. It was feeling real.

He went to tell his father. When Van walked into the front door, the young man found Valerio splayed out drunk in the living room. His snoring was so loud, it seemed to shake the paneled walls. Between the drunken slurs on the long walks home and the agitated mumbles when Van came to start the morning's work, Van and his father didn't speak very much. When they did it was about work. It had been a long while since Van had a decent conversation with his dad that didn't involve how many bags of wool were waiting to be washed, or where the grass was best for grazing. It had been a long while since they had a conversation at all. Van frowned, looking around his childhood home for a pen and some paper.

Going through the desk, he stumbled upon a faded picture of him and his mother. Van remembered those big, clunky cameras that would take his picture every year. He remembered going to the church with his mother where a few other people were taking photos too. They always had to wait a long time. It would be him and his mother, holding hands, waiting for their turn. His father never came. Van realized she must have the one who liked the family photos because when she left, his family had never taken another one. Van stared at it, the picture. He stared at his young face and the beautiful face of his mother whom he'd nearly forgotten. He shook his head and put it in his bag, paperclipped between the photos of him and Petra. He wished he could cry some tears about that photo. About how he was taking one of the only tangible things his father still had of his former wife. About how much he missed his mother. About how betrayed and lonely and angry he felt. He couldn't cry anymore. His feelings about this were so absent, it bothered him. Van wished he could cry, just to feel something. Feel something for this broken family.

Van remembered the paper. When he finally found some, he wrote a note.

I'm moving away. I won't be around to help you anymore. If you need anything, I hope there is someone you can call. Please don't forget about my sheep. -Van

He put the piece of paper on the messy kitchen counter, by the coffee press. He'd be sure to find it there. He took a long look around. He didn't recognize this home. He'd lived here for years, yes, but he couldn't recall happiness here. Petra was right. How could he ever have found himself in this mess?

A rustling in the half-open pantry caught Van's attention. There was a young cat making a mess out of the bag of grain on the floor. Van had seen it a few times when coming to tuck his father into bed after a long night who knows where. He'd made some trust with this cat, feeding it leftover fish from the pub and giving it milk from time to time. He assumed it was a stray that his father took in because his loneliness was killing him. Van's replacement. Van clicked his tongue. The cat was emaciated, ribs showing and all. This was no way to live. If Van was rescuing himself, he could make room for one more on the ship to salvation. He just hoped this cat was up for the adventure.

Van scooped up the cat and put him in his backpack. He curled up quite nicely in there. He must have known Van was trying to save him.

That was that. With all the moving and shuffling Van had done in the house, his father still hadn't sat up to see what the commotion was.

Van left without saying goodbye.

As Van was walking along the road out of town, he thought about Lalo. Their friendship had fallen apart ever since that day.

That fateful day.

It was Sunday.

Lalo and his friends were day drinking at the tavern and he'd come all the way to Van's pasture to find him and tell him to quit working for the day. Van had listened, for once. He wasn't one to spare any expense when caring for his animals. Lalo had helped him round up his sheep and put them back in their pen for the day. They'd not even washed up before they headed to resume their merriment.

The two of them were the last ones to leave.

Maybe Lalo had suspected him all along. Maybe he'd know what Van had been thinking of him. Maybe he'd been too afraid to say anything about it sober, risking his reputation and his street cred with his friends... but he thought he could explore all of it under the influence of drink. So they did.

Not for very long. It was a short time. But the hungry way Lalo kissed him was borne into his soul like a brand. It was nothing like the sweet love he'd bad to Petra. It was hard. It had hurt. It was rough. It was dirty. Van hated that he'd done it. All those years of fantasizing about his friend, a friend he didn't want to think of in such a carnal way... summed up to the heaviest guilt he'd felt in his life. And he walked away. For good.

He avoided Lalo after that day. Even when Lalo was begging him to stay. He put on his pants and disappeared, kept to himself as much as he could. He say Lalo less and less, and it hurt him, to watch a friendship die like that. He felt responsible for ruining it. What was worst of all, was that he told no one.

Lalo had chased him, asked him why. Why couldn't they try things out. Asked him if he hadn't been good enough in bed, if he didn't like boys like he thought he did. That wasn't it. It wasn't a question Van knew the answer to. Not right then. In short, Van told him he wanted to try it, and he did. He wished he never did. Not with him.

Van later realized it was that he placed such a price on Lalo and his affection that when he finally paid it... the cost was too much for too little. He thought sleeping with him would provide clarity to all his confusion... make him feel better. He thought it would give him closure and maybe even a relationship. He thought he could make something with Lalo like he'd made with Petra. Something beautiful and safe and sacred. At least he wanted to think that. But Van found out... the things he loved, truly loved, about Lalo, he had made up.

He never told him that. It would've hurt him too much.

Before he knew it, he was on the edge of town. He was really leaving. He'd made his plan before leaving his front door: travel the day to Lola, the nearest town near the base of the mountains, get a room, and in the morning find a wagon to take him north. While in thought, a deep, baritone voice roused him. A passerby on the road.

"You leaving?"

Van turned.

Speak of the devil.

"Oh... yeah. I am."

His lazy eye was squinting against the mid-afternoon sun, shining right in his face. By his bags, Lalo assumed Van was leaving for good.

"Well... I'll make sure your old man takes care of your flock."

The statement sat in Van's stomach like a stone.

"Thank you... I'm sure he'll need reminding."

Van wanted to hug Lalo goodbye. He missed Lalo's hugs. The hugs that he cherished and savored in secret where he'd smell his clothes and wonder what it was like to kiss him. Before Lalo ever knew what his insides felt like.

Hugging him now, he couldn't stomach the thought. The only hug he thought of now was the one locked in close with sweaty grunts in some foreign animal language. He felt bad, knowing Lalo probably wanted the same thing.

Van was quiet for a minute as they stood there, shoulder to shoulder facing opposite sides of their destiny.

"I'll miss you, Van. Maybe one day we can talk... about everything."

Van felt strange tears prick at the back of his eyes.

"Yeah... maybe one day we can... I'd like to."

"Me too."

"Take care of yourself, Lalo."

"You too."

And as Lalo's footsteps were the last to sound behind him, Van was off to start his new life.