The First Musical: Chapter Five: Gisele, Part 3

I listened to the notes he played, soaking in their simple intricacy. The possibilities for singing these lyrics were numerous. “Because you know I love you,” I began singing, slowly, guessing this would be more of a ballad. “Though you have chosen someone—wait a minute. What?”

Johnathan stopped playing again. “What?”

“Irial knows she loves him but he’s with someone else? How does that work?”

He nodded; “Irial is at his equivalent to a bachelor party, at a tavern, when he meets Collette, who is also out with friends. They notice each other immediately, but try diverting their friends to other people—unsuccessfully, I might add. So they end up dancing together, and quickly fall in love.”

“That’s so cliché.”

“But still plausible. Especially in literature. So, anyway, here, they’re walking home and he accidently lets slip that there’s someone else, named Delilah, who he’ll marry the next day.”

“So Collette is pissed?”

“Not quite. She’s angry at first, but she doesn’t stay angry long because she does love him,” Johnathan continued. “At this point, she’s more hurt than angry, but you’ll see when she’s angry again, especially when we put the dialogue with the lyrics.”

“Okay.”

“Ready to begin again?”

“I’ll try.”

After a few measures, I began, the notes emitting from my lips different from the ones I had first sung; “Because you know I love you, though you have chosen someone else; and it tortures me to think you would abandon her for myself….”

I sang through the next verse and chorus, and when I’d come to the end of my lines, Johnathan said, “Here you and Irial converse more, and when you tell him to leave, he replies in his own section.” He then sang Irial’s part. It was more playful than Collette’s. His voice entranced me, though. There was depth to it that brought the words to life, as though he could spin the song into moving tapestries. I stared at him before long, only pulled back to the rehearsal when he said, “Then you insist on his inanity while he tries to blame you partially for this late development. At this point, you’re infuriated at the accusation, but still hurt and troubled because he won’t listen to you.”

With this brief explanation, I broke into the new section, a little faster, a little more distressed, volleying the lines with him. Toward the end I found myself staring at him, again. I hadn’t meant to, but that’s how luck would have it. There was something that drew me to him and terrified me. My brain screamed that he was dangerous, that this scenario had already played out tragically before. But Johnathan had helped reawaken in me this need to sing, and that felt like reuniting with an old friend. I didn’t want to lose it again.

“...don’t kiss me,” I finished, his blue-green eyes flying to mine as the final note died away. Something in those eyes wanted to reach out, touch me, but there was a wariness. Almost as though he believed I might be an illusion of the light.

“Gorgeous,” he whispered, his eyes still holding mine.

For the longest time neither of us said anything. We just sat there staring. My former numbness was overrun with emotions I couldn’t name and thoughts that flitted away as soon as I realized they were there. It felt like we could have stayed like that forever, statues of something that never happened and never could be. But then he moved to touch me and I snatched up my keys, running out the door before he could make a sound.

I felt guilty, leaving him so suddenly. But I didn’t need a relationship, even if I was possibly going to break my no performing rule. My mind kept thinking that if I hadn’t left, he would have kissed me.

If he had, I feared history would have repeated itself.

The First Musical: Chapter Four: Johnathan, Part 2

“What do you want now?” Gisele asked, her gaze fixed stonily on the textbook before her. We were in one of the study nooks of the library. It was largely empty on the Friday afternoon.

“I wanted to apologize for the situation I put you in last time.”

“Just leave me alone and we’ll call it good,” she said, leaning closer to the book as though wishing she could disappear into it to escape my presence.

Wincing, I forged onward; “I already told you I can’t. You’re my lead.”

She faced me, unable to mask her anger. To see her so furious hurt because I really was sorry.

“Casting me as the lead will ruin your production,” she said before turning away again.

“Because you really do have stage fright?” I asked. “Or because of something someone else did?”

Her hands clenched so tightly into fists to suppress their shaking, her skin paled. Tension seized her body and she refused to look at me. “What do you know about that?” she asked softly.

“Nothing really,” I said, taking the empty seat on the other side of her. “It’s all speculation.”

“Keep it that way.”

“I’ll need to know if I’m going to help you.”

“I don’t want your help,” she snipped, glaring at me.

“You will if you’re going to be ready to perform.”

“What makes you think I want to perform? I haven’t performed in over two years and I’ve been perfectly happy.”

“That’s a lie. You aren’t happy.”

“You don’t know me well enough to make that judgment.”

“Either way, you were born to perform. You come alive when you perform.” I was prepared to fight her every step of the way; I had mentally readied myself to deal with any emotional breakdown she might face. There wasn’t anything that could happen I couldn’t support her through if she let me.

“That sounds as convincing as saying you were born an angel of good intent.”

“I wasn’t. I never said I was, either.” Gisele glared harder at me. It’s hard to say I hadn’t deserved it. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Because that’s so comforting to know.”

“It may or may not be, but it’s true. Your rehearsals start in a week. The practice room, for now,” I said, not wanting to add to her hostility any more than I already had.

“My rehearsals?” She cocked her eyebrows.

“You’re my lead. The first month will be private rehearsals. If you don’t show up, I’ll drag you there.”

“How can I convince you you’re wrong? That you need to cast someone else?” she asked, better concealing her anguish.

“I’m not wrong,” I assured her, standing. “I’ll help you see that.”

Eternal: Epilogue

Epilogue: Beginning Eternity

Years ago, Valetta had asked me how I imagined my dream life. When I had closed my eyes, I saw a life I wanted, but didn’t think I could ever have. And yet, here I am, with Drei, living in a two story beach house on a lake in a forest. Almost exactly as I had described.

Drei’s sisters had been buried in that single grave I had found. He paid to have them exhumed and cremated, bringing their ashes back with us. The urns had a room they shared with other memories, fond and painful. Pictures, news clippings, items that held special meaning—including the rocking chair Drei had found all those years ago, a maternal family heirloom of mine.

Another special place Drei and I had set up, though I had been reluctant at first, was a garden. It wasn’t like his original, left behind and untended at the original safe camp, but it was a close second. We didn’t have to build a greenhouse, as there was an atrium that essentially functioned as one. Together, we worked to find the right combination and proportions of flowers with the initial goal of replicating the scent still following him around. After a while, Drei and I both decided it shouldn’t be a replica because the original had been a solution to his pain and a gift to me, his love. He suggested I take more creative control over its composition as I was now in need of channeling pain. I didn’t argue, and it wasn’t long after I started feeling better. There was something about catering to life that balanced a loss of it.

Kneeling by the water, I set some blossoms floating into the center of the lake. My yearly ritual, because I didn’t have an urn or a grave to send them to. The lake is the second best thing to him, as it is where we first met and where most of our happiest memories were. It is also where he made his first sacrifice for us.

I brush the tears from my eyes, wondering, not for the first time, if I’ll ever be able to stop crying for him.

“Abriel,” Drei calls from behind me.

I watch the blossoms for a moment more before turning to jog up the stairs to the balcony off our room where he waits. Where he has waited every year on this day.

“Beautiful flowers you chose this year,” he says, opening his arms to me.

“Thank you.” The sadness dissipats again, waiting for next year. Tending a garden really minimized my sadness surrounding the event to the point I only felt it deeply once a year. And like clockwork, it’s back on this day; I wake up with it and that’s how I know to go to the garden and pick whichever flowers speak to me for my annual visitation. “Why does it feel like it hurts more every year?” I ask, gazing out at the small specks on the calm surface of the water.

“Because it is another year you have lived without him,” he replies gently, rubbing my back. “And another year you realize he will not return to say hello.”

There’s a truth to his words, more truth than I want to admit. It is the first year I have asked, and I can’t believe he’s hit on it so well. No matter what had happened, Nick had always popped up somewhere else, smiling, calming me, apologizing for something or another from the time before. Subconsciously, I think I’m still waiting for him to show up and apologize for scaring me so badly.

“Nick is not coming back this time,” Drei whispers. I appreciate his honesty; it’s the only way I’m going to stop crying on this day. And I know that. But some part of me, somewhere deep in my heart, doesn’t want to stop hoping, even if I know I should.

“I added the angel and the guardian to our memories room,” I say, changing the subject. Although they have been available for some time now, Drei has avoided adding them to our collection. I decided to correct the oversight.

“At least it is not a doll;” he smirks and I hit him lightly on the arm. He is never going to let that one die. Though he continues to smile, his eyes darken a little, growing more serious. “There is one thing you have yet to ask me.”

The sky begins to lighten with the coming dawn as I try to think of what he means. When it strikes me, I know why I hadn’t remembered. I haven’t thought about it in years, and now I might finally have the answer I have been wanting since Drei first mentioned it.

“Do you think you have fulfilled your promise to the Lady of the Moon?”

“I strive to deserve your love every day,” he says softly, holding my gaze steadily, his amethyst eyes bright and resolute. “And I will never deserve it until I strive every day hereafter.”

“There is no one else I would rather spend my eternity with,” I confide before he kisses me.

A light crosses the forest and we stop, stepping into our room and closing the French doors. It is my first sunrise since I had a pulse. Most of them before now I had slept through, but not today.

“You know, if we ever grow tired of forever, I could change that,” I remind him, resting my head on his chest.

“I do not imagine I will grow tired of spending my un-life with you, Abriel,” he says as the first rays of dawn fill the room.

I miss it, though, because I’m looking at him, and all of the promises that fill his eyes. Eternity is a long time, but he silently promises he will love me everlastingly; and by the way he kisses me, I can tell he knows the same is true of me.

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 3

“How so?” I leaned forward, resting my chin on the heels of my palms. Finally, I would have an answer and, this time, it wasn’t to my own problem. Though I was certain this wasn’t a good thing he was about to tell me, I was grateful for the distraction.

“I remember when Caroline first told me she was a fire elemental, though, then, we didn’t know that was the name for it. It wasn’t long after I came into my own powers; I think we were 13 or 14. But I told her because it was really crazy what had happened—I mean, it wasn’t anything huge or particularly obvious, but suddenly I was hearing conversations and animals and the like when they weren’t even nearby,” he explained, leaning forward on his elbows. “It wasn’t spectacular, but it was like my hearing had improved 10 fold. And she was the first person I told.

“When I did, she told me I shouldn’t tell people about it because it made me look crazy and no one wanted to associate with a loony. So I asked her what right she had to say that, thinking she was just jealous. Then she explained it was what her parents told her.” Shaking his head, he tapped his fingers on the counter top. When he met my gaze again, he continued, “I didn’t believe her at first and then she lit a fire in her palm. Well, lit isn’t the right word, but you understand what I mean.”

I nodded, remembering when she had done the same to me upon our first encounter. That memory brought a smirk to my lips; her little fire didn’t last long after I pulled the air around it away. It was our exchange of secrets and the whole reason she took me on in the first place. “What did you do?”

“I told her we couldn’t both be crazy and then had to go home. When I told my grandmother she explained what was happening and told me it didn’t make me crazy; it just meant I had to be more careful about where and when I did things. She told me I was free to experiment in my room if I kept the curtains and the door closed, but nowhere else. I also asked if she could teach me things, but that’s when I found out it was her mother, not her, who had been an air elemental before me. She told me not even my father had it; she also said it made me special.”

“Well, it does. What about Caroline?”

“When I told her what my grandmother had said, she didn’t believe me. Instead, she put more stock into what her parents had said, fighting me for well over an hour before storming off to go home. The next day she didn’t show up at school, so I went to the soda shop on the square, her favorite one. Sure enough, she was there with a root beer float, crying in a corner. She tried acting like she hadn’t been crying, but she gave up when I sat down and told her I wasn’t leaving. That’s when she told me she had been fighting with her parents the night before about what I’d told her. She admitted she had liked the sound of not being crazy for being different, but her parents insisted whoever had put the thoughts in her head was out of line and she should stay away from him.

“Caroline, being Caroline, told them she wouldn’t listen to them anymore and when they tried to control her—which she didn’t say how—her skin superheated and blistered her father’s hands. She didn’t want to come to me because, she said, that would mean saying I was right;” he chuckled to himself and a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Instead, she waited in her tree house until the soda shop had opened and went there.”

“What happened after that? Did they ever accept that they couldn’t change her?”

His head shook sadly, his lips pressed into a pale line. “We went to see my grandmother, who assured Caroline she wasn’t a freak or crazy or anything else. She stayed with us for the day and then went home that night. After that, she became even more hardheaded, but it was because she was fighting her parents at home almost every night. No one at school knew anything outside she had become a royal pain—well, more of one. But whenever she was too flustered to go home and speak reasonably for even a short period of time, she stayed over with me.

“After about a year, her parents asked me why I was still hanging around her when she was so ‘uncontrollable’ and ‘obviously unwell.’ She never did tell them I’m the one who told her she wasn’t a freak or crazy. When I told them because we were friends and she seemed fine to me, they insisted I either wasn’t well or too good to be true. That’s when, to add insult to injury, they began insisting we date and eventually wed.”

“I bet Caroline didn’t like that.”

“You’ve got that right,” Ian said, his eyes wide as he recalled the blowup that had led to. “About a year after that she came out to her parents. They thought it was to spite them—which it was in a way. She had been interested in only girls for a few years at that point, but she had never told them before. When they wouldn’t take no for answer, she told them and that was just—it just wasn’t good. They were not a happy family by any means. Caroline would use her gifts around the house and started bringing girlfriends home to annoy them. She figured it was only fair because they annoyed her. Really, it was just an ugly circle of events.

“Then when we went to college,” he continued, “she started getting better. She was calmer and typically more open to varying opinions. Then, after hearing everyone else talk about how wonderful a relationship they had with their parents, she decided she wanted that for herself and called home.”

“Not good?” I guessed, grimacing. I could only imagine how it had turned out, and it didn’t look pretty in my mind.

Shaking his head, he elaborated, “The first phone call wasn’t bad. But after that, they started insisting if she wanted to talk, she had to come home. So she did; and when she came back at the end of that weekend, she was worse than she had ever been in high school. It was a constant case of PMS and worsened by the fact she either had to go home semi-regularly or they would begin visiting campus, with the threat of them recommending mental guidance and anger management for her.

“The rest is pretty much downhill from there. They set up a schedule of times she’s required to visit, and then, occasionally, they drop in for a visit—those are typically unannounced. She obliges and the tradeoff is she can live on their dime on her terms.”

“But she still has to listen to their opinions on her life,” I added, having heard that bit before.

“And their complaining about her element.”

I nodded, better understanding her earlier behavior and her motivation to make this work within my timeline. The sooner we were in the open, the sooner she could prove her parents wrong. Though, from the sound of it, they weren’t the type to admit fault. That’s probably where Caroline learned it.

Neither of us said anything for a long time. I didn’t have anything I could say to him without facing some sort of consequence and that was the topic that most interested him.

“Did you want to stay for dinner?” I offered, regardless how random it seemed—I needed to break the silence somehow.

Just as I asked, Nick walked through the door, dinner rolls in hand. He handed them to me, saying to Ian, “You should. We’ll have enough food.”

“Nick, was it?” Ian inquired, not because he didn’t remember but because he was stalling.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I said, preheating the oven.

“I don’t see why not,” Ian said after a moment. “Caroline shouldn’t need anything tonight.”

“And she can call if she does,” I finished for him, pulling an extra table setting from the cupboard. Drei had bought new dishes and such to replace the ones I’d broken; these were sturdier than the other ones had been—probably in anticipation of another meltdown.

Dinner was fabulous and Ian left contented after Drei and Nick had both assured him I was doing fine. It helped to have two people vouch for me; after he had asked each of them, he let it go.

The next day I spoke with Mikael and Xenia about the website and adding videos. They said it’d be a cinch and would start the formatting for it now while they could work together over the layout; they seemed excited to start when they left. When Nick came home that night, he brought the sketched story board for the next commercial for my approval.

I went with him the next day to give suggestions—all minor because the story board was great when it came to the big ideas—and that was also when Caroline unloaded what seemed like her entire life’s homework and a few flash drives on me. The information was more than welcome as most of it was already targeted against the government, saving me half the leg work. As for how relevant it was to my revolution, I’d find out soon enough. After these commercials were done, Caroline and I would be traveling and speaking publicly, wherever we could to whoever would listen. People would need to put a face with the idea, and that was the best way, in my opinion, to do it.

Eternal: Chapter Six, Part 2

Xenia was next on my list, not because I couldn’t find Jake first but because I wanted to save Jake for last. I knew there was probably going to be more for us to talk about; I would like to think I wasn’t avoiding the inevitable, but giving myself more time to prepare for it. I knew the likelihood of that being true was slim to none.

Valetta had found Xenia’s home, school, and even managed to find out her plans for the weekend—which involved some shopping, a movie, and dinner with friends. It was easier for Valetta because she hadn’t changed at all from when they had last seen her, but it was no use being bitter. I would have to figure out how I would talk to her alone and avoid keeping her from her plans for too long.

I sat in the middle of the mall, watching people pass for a while, wondering why I wasn’t seeing her anywhere. Then a group of giggling girls walked past and Xenia’s name was mentioned. There wasn’t a single blonde in the group, though. All of them had either dyed their hair blue or green, except for one girl who had chosen purple.

“I seriously did it;” the purple haired girl laughed, and I knew it was Xenia. Her looks may have changed, but her voice hadn’t—not much anyway. “I was not going out with him. He thinks we dyed our hair to make a statement about society and stickin’ it to the man.”

“But that’s not it at all;” one of her blue haired companions giggled.

“Exactly.”

Xenia whipped her head around for a moment in my direction before turning to her friends. “I’ll meet up with you at the boutique. There’s someone I have to see real quick.”

Her friends agreed and continued on as if this wasn’t unusual for her to be running off for a moment; she watched them for a short while. When they had all done their peeking over their shoulders and were back to laughing and gossiping, she turned around and took a seat next to me.

“She wasn’t kidding when she said you’d look different;” she crossed her legs at the knees, resting her chin on her hand.

“So she told you I was coming?” I asked, turning to face her.

“Of course she did. How else do you think she knew what I was doing today?”

“Makes sense;” I nodded slightly. “Did she tell you what I was coming to talk about?”

She shook her head, the purple locks escaping over her shoulder; she pushed them back behind her ear. “Valetta said she’d leave that for you.”

I debated whether to jump straight to business or not. I didn’t care to, but at the same time, she had already segued into it. But I wanted so much to ask about her hair. It had been a beautiful gold color and now, though still beautiful, it was purple. I was curious as to what prompted the change, especially since it wasn’t just her that had changed.

Then I remembered she was here with friends and my goal wasn’t to monopolize her time. If I had time at the end I’d ask, but she had already cut to the chase.

“I’m beginning my movement soon,” I started, deciding to just put it all on the table and see what she’d make of it. “Right now I’m recruiting everyone, yourself included. Don’t feel like you have to say yes; you don’t. It shouldn’t interfere with school, but you’d mostly be there for opinions and other kinds of input. The only downside is we have two years.”

Xenia nodded slowly, sitting back and crossing her arms, her eyes downcast as she contemplated my words. “Two years, is it?”

“It’s all I can guarantee.”

“And I’m guessing you’re going to say what this movement is about when everyone is together?”

“Of course. As soon as the school year is done for everyone.” I studied her carefully. If she didn’t say yes, I didn’t know who else I would choose. I had my mind set on her helping, but I’d ultimately have to respect her decision.

“I like the sound of a challenge,” Xenia said after a moment. “I don’t get enough of one as is, and it’ll be kind of fun to see some of the others again.”

“You don’t have any concerns?” I didn’t want to leave her with questions if I could help it—other than the main one, that is.

“Nope. It’s straightforward enough. I’m kind of looking forward to it,” she said, nodding her head, sitting forward on her hands.

Silence enveloped us despite the hustle and bustle of the crowds. It wasn’t long before I couldn’t help but ask—I knew if I didn’t soon she would excuse herself.

Eternal: Chapter Five, Part 1

Chapter Five: From the Ground Up

Mitchell returned a few days later having found both Kora and Mikael. I was excited to be able to see them again, having been close to them back at camp. They had been part of a small, close- knit group of elementals, the first to actively dissolve the boundaries their predecessors had created between the earth and water elementals. When I set to break those boundaries by means of a game, they asked questions and worked to mediate arguments that arose after; my shining examples, in a way.

That was years ago, though. I hadn’t seen any of them since I left—Jake since before I left, which was why I was hoping to save him until last.

Drei was still off at whatever it was he was doing. By this point, it was a well-guarded secret I wanted in on, merely lacking the time to pursue it—not to mention my personal promise to be patient. I set Mitchell to working with Caroline and Ian—when they had time—to flesh out the vague timeline I had been putting together. They were also supposed to brainstorm different methods of reaching people given our deadline. Valetta was still tracking down Jake; last I’d heard, she had already located Xenia. She promised to find him by the time I was done meeting with Mikael and Kora.

Kora was finishing her freshman year at college, but you wouldn’t have known it looking at her. She had highlighted her dark hair with thin strands of red brown and carried herself as though she was a graduating senior. She had grown up a lot since I had last seen her three years ago.

I watched her during the cloudy day, following at a safe distance. There wasn’t any point in interrupting her regular day when what I had to discuss with her had nothing to do with her college life or friends. Besides, it would likely take her a moment to remember me if she did at all. It had taken Caroline almost too long for comfort, and it had only been a year since I last saw her. Ian didn’t count.

She was quite the busy student, between studying, group meetings, organizational meetings, and what have you. The first few days presented little opportunity. The fourth day, a Saturday, was sunny—which kept me indoors during the day—and that night was some sorority event.

It wasn’t until Sunday night when she was even relatively alone. She walked around the beautiful campus with her boyfriend—at least that’s whom I guessed the lanky gentleman holding her hand was. Checking her watch casually, she kissed his cheek and bade him farewell. There was an explanation as well, but I wasn’t near enough to catch it and I didn’t feel like adding eavesdropping on top of what could be classified as stalking.

His blue gray eyes followed her a while before he continued down the path. Kora approached me where I was sitting on a bench near the quad, partially hidden behind flowering bushes. She stopped a couple yards away, crossing her arms and cocking her hip to the side.

“Why have you been following me for the last week?” she asked.

Meeting her large hazel eyes, I kept a straight face, deciding to take an un-Mitchell approach with her. “How have you been, Kora?” I asked, attempting to minimize the amount of spent on memory catch-up.

“Why do you know my name?” A trace of fear crossed over her features before it vanished under a cool façade.

“I’m guessing you knew I was following you because of your talents,” I said, realizing I was very possibly terrifying her as she clenched her jaw and clutched her arms more tightly. “You really have nothing to fear from me. We’ve met before.”

“I’m sure we haven’t,” she said. “I really think you should stop whatev—”

“Don’t you remember feathers? Or games? Maybe you remember Nick? Perhaps an ice sculpture with flowers you helped to make? Any of that ring a bell?”

It was somewhat entertaining to watch her huge eyes grow in realization and then narrow in skepticism. “You can’t be—”

I put a finger to my lips, silencing her as she studied me, even more confused. “You can’t use my name in public for the time being,” I said, standing. She was as tall as I was now, and it was strange since I remembered her only coming up to my shoulder. “Drei wants everyone to call me Leirba for now.”

Eternal: Chapter Two, Part 1

Chapter Two: Fearful Truths

“Drei, we really should talk,” Valetta calmly said when we reached the apartment, though it was more a demand disguised as a suggestion. I wished all of this hushed discussion would be finished; I wasn’t a child and I knew what was happening. There wasn’t any reason I could see to keep me out of the loop when I was in the center.

He nodded as if expecting this. Kissing my cheek, he said, “You and Mitchell should wait for us out here. We shall return to join you shortly.” His eyes didn’t meet mine and I wanted to tell them to just have it out here. They wouldn’t, though; they’d probably just pretend they didn’t know what I was talking about and leave anyway.

Mitchell kicked back in one of the armchairs and I sunk into the middle of the couch. I didn’t want to eavesdrop on their conversation—I could guess it was only a continuation of earlier—but I wanted to know what kind of mood they’d each be in when—if—they returned.

“Go ahead and listen,” Mitchell said, his arms crossed and his eyes closed. “I am.”

“But—”

“It is good to know what mood to expect him in, and Valetta as well. As you know, no harm ever came from eavesdropping;” he tilted his eyes in my direction a moment, a content and mocking smile playing across his lips. “We know. It was almost expected of you.” And here I thought I was doing a fair job at not looking shocked. But I wasn’t going to argue with an open invitation.

“Do not drag me away if you are not going to say anything,” Drei was saying as I tuned in. Splitting my attention further, I mapped the room so I could watch them.

Valetta stood a few feet from Drei, biting a fingernail. “Are you not even ashamed of what you have done?” Her hand batted away a tear on her cheek.

“I am ashamed, and many days I loathe myself for what I have done to her,” Drei answered softly, his hands in his pant pockets.

“You do not act ashamed,” she replied humorously. “No, because if you were ashamed, you would not kiss her in front of us, or hold hands in public, or any number of things that you may be doing with her—sharing a bedroom, for another.”

“I see nothing wrong with any of those. Despite what I have done, I still love her,” he said softly, keeping a firm grasp on his stoicism.

“And turning her is how you show that?”

“I have told you she was dying. What would you have me do?”

Valetta threw her arms up in frustration. “Prevent the situation in the first place? You promised to protect her, to be with her. Where were you?”

“It is complicated.”

“Everything is complicated, Drei. That does not mean you leave her to die and then decide you want her to live.” She turned her back to him, crossing her arms. Soon, one hand flew to her mouth and she chewed her nails again.

“Valetta—”

“It does not even suggest that you take advantage of her. It takes years to control one’s vampire, especially the lust.” She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling heavily to steady herself before turning to him. “Swear you have not taken advantage of that, too.”

“I have not taken advantage of her, at all.”

“But you have,” she argued, advancing on him, pacing circles around him. “First you took advantage of her humanity, and took her mortality from her. Then you take advantage of her love and flaunt that as if you deserved it. Who knows what else you have taken advantage of before that, or even after,” she spat angrily. “So have you, or have you not, taken advantage of her vampire’s lust?”

“No.”

“Do you want to?” she continued, stopping in front of him. “Because wanting to is just as disgraceful as the deed.”

Drei looked away from her, walking past her to the bureau.

“Drei;” she sighed, shaking her head. “I should never have encouraged you. She might very well have been better off with Nick.”

“Do not say that,” he shouted, a few tears tumbling down his cheeks. He clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists atop the bureau. “Nick would not be able to care for—”

“Nick would have been there to protect her,” she shouted back at him, her voice strong despite the tears filling her eyes.

“You do not even know the circumstances,” Drei said through gritted teeth, turning back to her.

“I know you promised to protect her, and you obviously failed.”

I didn’t like that they were fighting, but I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt them. They needed to have it out, as much as it hurt both of them; it was even hurting me. Valetta was making several good arguments, and I almost wanted to stop listening. Drei was right, though, she didn’t understand the circumstances. I had forgiven Drei for not being there because we were both responsible for it. But I had never before thought about if he had failed. Dying meant I failed, because I couldn’t change anything if I wasn’t alive. Hearing Drei had also failed pained me; I didn’t want it to be true. Even as I realized it was.

“I cannot decide if I want them to take her from you,” Valetta whispered, breaking the silence that had filled the room. “You do not deserve her…but she still needs you.”

“Valetta, I love her. Ten—no, ten thousand times the world over. What do you want me to do to prove I deserve to stay with her? I will do anything.”

“I shall think on it.”

Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I looked up at her as she entered the living room. She had recomposed herself and dried her tears.

“Come, Abriel; you should sleep. Today has been far too…exciting.”

She didn’t sound remotely excited and I wasn’t tired, but saying that wouldn’t have been in anyone’s best interest. Mitchell gave me a quick look as if wishing me luck, or perhaps it was pity; then he stood and went to console Drei. At least, I hoped that’s what he was doing. I would hate for him to have to face Mitchell after Valetta had torn him apart; I wouldn’t listen, though. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to withstand another argument if that should occur, or put words to the pain swirling around me.

“How long has it been?” she asked, sitting at the foot of the bed, staring at the curtained windows.

“A year,” I replied, staring at a wall. I really wasn’t tired and it was strange to be falling asleep without Drei. It felt like missing a part of myself, or having forgotten something important. It was a dark and deep feeling of loss, of desolation.

She didn’t say anything after that, some part of her hoping if I thought she was asleep, then I would follow suit. Valetta should have known better though, especially with her emotions as turbulent as they were. I wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t be sleeping that day.

Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 2

“The property was engulfed in flame by the time I returned. At first I was stunned, not understanding what was happening. Then I rushed inside, searching for my sisters. Ashlyn and Avery were already…they were so still when I found them. From what I could tell, they had been restless and playing a game in the parlor. The door had been left barely open and my sisters had been pressed against it as if that is where they had fallen. I carried their asphyxiated corpses outside, unable to stand the thought of them burning. I ran back inside for my parents, finding them dead and bloodied, their skin already beginning to burn. The rancid smell was embedding itself into my skin and burning my nostrils, so I left, unable to do anything more.

“When I returned to where I had left my sisters, she sat there, waiting; my sisters were nowhere to be seen. She taunted me, saying I had brought this upon them. No one refused her, and that was why they had to be taken from me. Then she wrapped her arms around me, beginning her seductions anew. I tried to kill her, not fully understanding what or who she was, but knowing I wanted her dead;” his anger seeped into his words, his voice shaking again but from emotions far more sinister than pain. “Knowing she deserved to be dead.

“I was seized from behind by two of her boys, several more circling us. She traced a finger along my face, explaining how she loved my energy and was glad I had made it difficult for her. Then she bit me.

“When I woke a few days later, I found she had changed me, one of her boys explaining what that meant exactly. He said I was hers, and that meant she could use me however she wished; then he fed me my first meal. I was shocked when he threw the woman at me. She was bleeding from a cut in her neck and I realized how famished I was. That woman was not my last, but each that I fed on, I regretted later,” he said, though I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this. Knowing he had killed people…I understood it was his condition, but it can be difficult to see your hero as…flawed.

“Not long after my awakening, she called me to her; she promised if I behaved she would tell me what had happened to my sisters. Where they had been buried.” He shook his head, clutching my hand between both of his. I hadn’t realized how painful it was for him when I had asked before. Never in my dreams did I think it could be this horrible.

“Years passed in what seemed like days, and each time I would request that one bit of information I wanted, she refused me. She insisted I had failed to be attentive enough. I had yet to accomplish this for her, or that. Somehow, I had managed to displease her. And yet I had done everything she asked of me and more. I abandoned my humanity and buried my feelings of remorse after each hunt; I gave her no reason to despise me. Every time she denied me, though, I grew to loathe her more.”

Drei stopped talking and studied our hands, as though that image gave him strength. As though it reminded him I wasn’t her, and I wasn’t here to hurt him.

“You don’t have to tell me everything now,” I told him. His amethyst eyes held mine, a look of disbelief obvious, as though I was missing something. And I probably was. But how could he expect me to catch all the little things he wasn’t saying when I was worried about what telling me this was doing to him?

“You do not understand what is happening yet,” he whispered, glancing away again. After another moment of silence—in which I couldn’t help but wonder why he felt it had to be done now when we had eternity—he began again. “I overheard her speaking, one day, of how she would never tell me where they were. She treasured my company too much. At dusk, before the rest awoke for a night of ravaging, I killed all of them. Decapitating each one in their sleep, and setting the place ablaze.

“I wandered then, unable to die and unable to live; I avoided feeding until I absolutely had to, and could usually be found drunk and unmotivated, occasionally brawling with drunken humans. It seemed the worst existence to be stuck in…until someone came along and gave me a bit of hope.” A smile cracked his lips. “Gloria found me brawling with a human. She told me to stop searching and then walked away.”

“You followed her,” I said, sitting up. I wasn’t sure how long I could stay sitting up, considering I felt light-headed and ill after doing so. Drei perched on the edge of the mattress beside me, taking my hand in his again.

“Of course. Gloria is how I learned of elementals, clairvoyant vampires, and about the emptiness filling me. She told me not to give up on love because it had not given up on me. But for the meantime, I had to stop seeking it, else it would continue to elude me. It was not until speaking with her, I even realized love was for what I had been searching. The moment she said it, though, I knew it was true.

“After my conversation with her, I recalled the legend of the Lady of the Moon. She had always fascinated me, and I had studied her extensively throughout my living days. So I vowed to her, if she would bring me love someday, I would strive to deserve it.”

“Did you?” I asked, watching him carefully. He seemed so fragile as he spoke, I was terrified he would break and leave me alone in this place. As disappointed as I was that he was here to begin with, having him with me was better than being alone.

“I am not there yet,” he chided gently, squeezing my hand again, a smile barely visible on his lips. “Over the next few hundred years, between trying to locate my sisters while avoiding remembering my actions, bettering myself emotionally, and, in the past few decades, searching for and saving elementals, I began to find a balance in my life. The anger was still there, the first response to anything unpleasant, but it was no longer ruling alongside grief. Stoicism was my aim, and when I came across Valetta, she seemed at first to help that goal be attainable.

“For the longest time, I had thought she was the one I was to love. That was when I built my garden,” he said, holding my gaze again. “It was to help soothe unpleasantness and, in part, be a gift. Gloria stopped my thoughtlessness. She was not the one, nor had she ever been. She provided love, but I had none in return for her as much I longed to—which was a truth I could not deny. I valued Valetta, but I felt obligated to behave in ways to communicate love for her. Valetta did not handle the truth well. For many years, she was understandably upset;” he hung his head and furrowed his brow. “I did not mean to harm her emotions, but I could not allow us both to live untruthfully, and she did eventually forgive me, though, as you might know, her protectiveness is still fierce.”

“I definitely know,” I said, grinning sheepishly as I remembered how cold she had once been toward me. It seemed like forever since I had seen her, longer so since she had despised me.

“When Gloria first told me of you,” he continued, glancing at me again, “I had the most remarkable urge to bring you myself. We had never harbored an air elemental before, and I had thought that was why I was so eager. I had not meant to contact you before you had an inkling of the changes you would undergo, but seeing you struggle those nights to sleep, I could not help myself. You reminded me of my sisters in your restlessness. It was not until later I discovered how unlike them you were—are at times. How troubled and unhappy you were, yet stuck where you had no wish to be, even if you would not admit as much to yourself.

“Before I had reached this realization, your similarity to my sisters was unbearable. I had not meant to…but I found myself biting you.”

“So that was you.”

“You knew all the while,” he said, as though he might have raised an eyebrow at me had the situation been different. “I did not dare trust myself after that. If I lost myself in thinking of my sisters, I was sure to turn you, and that would be unacceptable. I knew that. Yet I could not help but return occasionally and watch your growth. You were never to know I was there, but I could not help but let myself be known when those men proved their intentions were dishonorable. Particularly towards you.”

I brushed a lock of hair from his pale face. “Thank you for that. You didn’t have to, but you saved me anyway.”

“But I did,” he said, shock lacing his voice. “I have already said you reminded me of my sisters, but I had come to realize you were different from them in so many ways. As you healed, I volunteered my stories, hoping they would help you. And as I did, I grew more protective of you, as I had been of my sisters, but…in a way that made little sense to me. It remained that way until it was far too late for me to alter the situation.”

“What do you mean?” I recalled his protectiveness, thinking of it then as unnecessary. Confusion kept clouding my thoughts and I didn’t see how this explained anything.

“I was—am in love with you. With the Council, the emotion is as punishable as the deed,” he said solemnly.

“Drei,” I said, smiling and trying to cheer him up. “We don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Drei turned from me and his whole body seemed to sag under a new weight. “Abriel, we do.”

Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 1

Chapter Twelve: The Missing Pieces of the Puzzle

Wherever I had ended up was dark. In all my imaginings of death, I had never thought it would be dark. It had always been bright—on the brink of blinding—with a gentle melody leading me along to a place full of people who knew me, who had been waiting for me. To be in darkness made my failure seem far more stark.

“Before I explain,” Drei’s voice said from the darkness, “I need to tell you the story you’ve been requesting to hear.”

Hearing him so close wasn’t a comfort. I was terrified by the thoughts of what could have happened to him, especially after I had wanted him to stay safe. Being here—if it was where I thought I was—was not by any means safe.

“Where are you?” I asked, my voice harsh, my throat dry and constricted. Another oddity; I didn’t think death meant you still suffered bodily needs like thirst.

A lamp came on, temporarily blinding me. Once my eyes adjusted from the shock, I saw Drei sat on the edge of a nearby chair, hunched forward and seeming unable to look at me.

“Right here,” he whispered, his eyes dark and sorrowful.

The light partially illuminated the room around us. The entire space was dark, heavy curtains drawn over what appeared to be the only window. I had been tucked under sheets and thick woolen blankets on a bed. Thus far, the only thing consistent with my imaginings of death was that I didn’t feel like myself; something was very odd and not quite right with me.

 “Everything will make sense when I finish,” Drei said; I could have sworn I could feel his insecurity. That couldn’t be, though, because I remembered losing touch with the air in the hospital. I decided to trust Drei would make sense of this all.

“Okay,” I said, watching him carefully.

“Nearly 400 years ago, before I was turned, I met someone,” he said softly, the shame rising from the memory engulfing him. “At the time, I was finishing my studies at university. A few of my peers went to celebrate the end of exams, though most of us had another the following day. It was at the pub where she noticed and seduced me. There was no hiding what she was doing; she openly admitted what she wanted. When I resisted, insisting I could not partake that night, nor anytime soon as I was returning home after the commencement exercises, she told me I would be unable to resist her. Unfortunately, that was also the truth.

“She released me from her spell long enough to pass my final exam and receive my diploma. I had planned to make my escape after the ceremony and return home, but she awaited my exit and seduced me anew. I spent the next several weeks with her, not realizing how much time had elapsed until a letter arrived from home, requesting my immediate return. She was livid, insisting I would be unable to leave.” He rubbed his temples as though he could still hear her protests. “I knew I had to go. I missed my sisters, and she had underestimated the strength of my love for them. So one day, as she rested, I left, hoping that was the last I would see of that place.”

“What happened?” I asked, my voice still scratchy but slowly returning to normal.

Running an unsteady hand through his hair, he said, “A month later, she showed up in my bed chambers. There was no way she could have been there, let alone have known that is where I was. She scolded me for leaving her, insisting it had been a poor choice. That I wanted to please her, keep her contented, or she would drain me. It was my first indication as to her true nature. She presented me an option, then: I could devote myself to her and leave my family straight away, or I could deny her. Though she guaranteed I would not like the consequences of denying her, I…I could not imagine disappearing from my sisters’ lives. They needed me…they were still young and impressionable…you understand.” His voice was pleading, as if trying to convince me they didn’t deserve their fate, whatever it had been. “And I believed myself intelligent and resourceful enough to elude whatever consequences she promised.”

“Drei,” I whispered, not wanting him to continue. His hands and voice shook from the pain of the memory; I reached a hand out to him, though he was just out of reach. For as long as I had wanted to know, I didn’t want him plagued by remembering after he had worked so hard to forget. I hated seeing him pained, especially when there was little I could do about it.

“No, you must know to understand,” he asserted, moving his seat closer and taking my hand. I could still feel the pain and shame clouding the air around him, but the contact seemed to renew his resolve and stop his trembling.

“For weeks she showed up, issuing the same offer, and each time I remained insistent on staying. One evening, I had been taking a stroll, considering my future and whatnot when she appeared. I thought she was there for the same reason she had been the nights previously, so I ignored her. Until she stopped me. She teased me a while, asking for another chance to fix things between us. When I explained I would have to refuse her, she stalled with small talk. After an appropriate interval of time, she let me go with no proposal, no threats or consequences. I was sure I had finally convinced her she did not need me. How naïve I was,” Drei lamented, cradling his head in his free hand, gripping tighter to mine.

Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 3

The following morning, she called Ian to let him know he was in charge while racing through traffic to our shopping destination. It had been nicknamed Designer Boulevard for the numerous brand name—expensive, high quality brand name, I might add— clothes and accessories available. Everything from Louis Vuitton to Versace, the up and coming Lollipops accessory brand to Dolce and Gabbana, could be found on the boulevard. I had been to several locations of similar grandeur when I was younger and throughout high school, but had never been to this particular shopping locale.

Unexpectedly, I was actually giddy about it. I guess I hadn’t changed as much as I had thought, and perhaps all I needed was a break from it all before I could remember what I loved most about shopping was mostly trying on clothes that made me feel beautiful, powerful, somehow invincible. I loved the feel of the different fabrics and the look of a well cut dress or pair of pants. Not to mention the shoes, oh my word, the shoes. Shoes to compliment party dresses and shoes in which to run the world; shoes that make you want to dance right there in the store.  So maybe there were many things I missed about shopping.

Later that afternoon, weighted down with what she insisted was only half of my new wardrobe—some of the bags already crammed into her car—we sat down to lunch at a cozy café, comfortably warm inside considering the growing chill outside.

“So, before you ask, this is also most of your Christmas gift,” she said, opening the menu to peruse her options.

I ordered a mixed fruit tea and citrus salad. I was usually appalled by girls who only ate salads, but when I was shopping, it was the only thing I wanted to eat. Weird, yes, but that was me—I just hadn’t seen this side in so long I was surprised she still existed. Caroline ordered a Monte Cristo sandwich with fries and a cherry cola.

“How can you even afford it?”

“Oh, my parents,” she said simply. “They insist if I don’t want to live their lifestyle, I should at least live mine in a decent apartment and designer clothes. I think they want me to spend my inheritance before they’re gone so I regret not spending more time with them. What about you? Ian told me you weren’t sure about going home.”

I shrugged; “It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?” She rested her chin on her interlaced fingers.

“Maybe I’ll explain some other time, or you have my permission to ask Ian about it.”

The waiter delivered our drinks and she took a long draw from the straw. “I already did. I just wanted to know if you would tell me.”

It felt like I was being cornered; it wasn’t so bad I couldn’t tell her. I just didn’t want to ruin the day. But what choice did I have now? She already knew, but now she wanted to hear it from me. And I could understand that perfectly.

“The last time I saw my mother, I told her she didn’t deserve her daughter because she was being a freak about dealing with the changes in my behavior. Instead of asking me about it, she was going to lie and pretend she could bake a cake,” I said, finding the anger formerly surrounding the memory was replaced with indifference. “Turns out she’s not even my real mother. The last time I saw my dad was when he told me the story of my mom—my biological mom. About how they met and how I came into the picture. He also told me I was the only reason he could stand to miss her. That I looked a lot like her. Then I ran away, not even thinking about how they would feel about it. I haven’t seen them since.”

“Did you ever meet your birth mom?” she prodded, sitting back so our waiter, newly appeared, could set her food down.

I glanced up at him, not wanting to speak while he was around—he didn’t need to know about my issues—and noticed he wasn’t half bad so far as looks were concerned. He had a soft voice, but perhaps that was more because he didn’t want to disturb our conversation. His hair was a sandy blonde and styled similarly to how schoolboys were often portrayed in movies. He had sea blue eyes and sharp features. I couldn’t figure out why I was so drawn to him; I didn’t realize he had left and I was just staring into space until Caroline waved her hand in front of my eyes.

“What?” I asked, snapping back to reality.

“You were staring,” she said, sounding almost disinterested. “Do you like him or something?”

I shook my head, certain that wasn’t it. “There’s something funny about him. Something I can’t discern.”

“Elemental? That could be it.”

“Yeah…maybe.”

“But, about your birth mom, did you meet her?”

“In captivity,” I said. “She was my cell mate.”

Her eyes widened. “How was she?”

“Mentally…not all there.”

Wincing, she touched my forearm and sympathized, “I’m sorry, Abs.”

“Don’t be,” I said, not needing another reason for her coddle me. “For as long as she’s been there, she could have been worse.”

A strained silence fell between us for a while before Caroline broke it by querying, “Where do you want to go next?”

Shrugging, I said, “I have no idea.”

“Accessories it is, then.”

When we finished our lunch, we dropped off our bags in her car—fast becoming full—and headed to the many accessory shops on the boulevard. By the end of the day, I literally had a new wardrobe. I kept some of my older clothes—those I loved to death—but most of them Caroline dragged off to donate along with a good deal of her own. Going through my additions, I realized how much I missed shopping and having new clothes. It had gone from being a solid constant in my life to not existing in it at all. It was something that definitely helped my mood. Perhaps this finding myself wasn’t as hard as I was making it.

Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 1

Chapter Nine: Rushed

Three months seemed to fly past. We’d had five successful broadcasts—each one widening the fan base according to the activity online—and another one scheduled for the week before Christmas. During the work week, Caroline surfed the web, finding amusement in all the bloggers pretending to be her. She even had fan groups and followings on social networks.

To further spread the word, she bought a new mechanism that would extend the reach of the broadcast by 150 miles, making her total live outreach over a 200 plus mile radius. With the internet bloggers on her side, she was worldwide. And for those people lucky enough to have a system setup to record her broadcasts, her messages were available directly for free replay online. Most of those were viewed well over a million times each. Needless to say, her ideas were spreading and her optimism of a better future was infectious.

Myself? I was swept up in the research, trying to keep everything in some semblance of organization, and attempting to find myself in the chaos along the way. It had been so long since I had lived without him, I wasn’t sure who I was on my own anymore. I doubted I had ever known. But Caroline and Ian insisted the sooner I figured it out, the better I would feel about his decision. Then I could be happy and move on. Unlike how Caroline made it sound, however, it was anything but easy.

Over Thanksgiving, she left for home, saying there were too many family things to discuss, but she’d drag me along for Christmas. Ian invited me to his place for dinner, promising he wouldn’t make me cook too much. He already had most of it started when I reached his loft. It was an open, artsy studio with cement walls and floors, painted in splashes of color as though there had been a paint war at some point in time. But it was homey. I made a mental note that an apartment like this wouldn’t be half bad—when Caroline let me move out, of course.

I had tried a few weeks after my high speed driving experience—I still didn’t know how fast I had driven—and she nearly blew my head off. She insisted I wasn’t emotionally fit to live on my own, and if I even thought about it before she asked, she would start rationing how much of my paycheck was available to me. I was fairly certain that was illegal, but there were worse things in life than having a roommate.

But, back to Thanksgiving; Ian had already started a smoked turkey breast—since a whole turkey didn’t make sense for two—stuffing, and gravy. He allowed me to set the table while he checked to make sure the corn wasn’t overcooking in the oven. When it was done, he opened a bottle of sparkling cider, explaining he didn’t like to drink. I had no problem with it as I hadn’t been drunk in my lifetime and the idea of alcohol was unappealing—considering the last time I had any was in high school on a night I could live without ever remembering.

Neither of us spoke much while we ate; the company was healthy for us but we had never really talked about anything unless Caroline was there to instigate it. After Ian cleared the table and I washed the dishes, we sat down in his living area with more cider.

“Why don’t you go home like Caroline?” Then realizing I might sound ungrateful, I added, “Not that I haven’t enjoyed this; it’s really nice to have someone to spend the holiday with.”

He nodded, grinning slightly at my worried babbling. “I could ask you the same thing;” he sipped from his glass. “The short answer is I don’t know where my family is.”

“What’s the long version?” I asked, curious as to why that statement didn’t cause even a hint of sorrow in his voice. It felt more relaxed now that the silence between us had been broken.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Basically, my parents always moved around a lot when I was younger. I got tired of never being able to meet anyone or do well enough in school not to be considered special needs, so I opted to crash with my grandparents. They passed away a few years ago—within a few months of each other.”

“I’m sorry,” I said instinctively. I winced, knowing it probably sounded more habitual than sincere.

“Don’t be;” he waved it off like a cloud of smoke. “It happens. But, that’s my excuse.”

“I can’t spend it with my mom because it’s not possible. As for my dad and his wife—my other mother—I ran away years ago and haven’t talked to them since. I don’t even know if I’d be welcome anymore.”

“You probably are,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows. “Welcome, that is. They probably miss you.”

Gazing out the huge floor to ceiling windows, I wondered if I would try. If one day I would decide to go home and see them. Would Mother think I was only there for money? Would Dad even talk to me? Or would he be so reclusive that would be impossible? I remembered him saying I was the only reason he could stand missing Mom, and I couldn’t help but think if he was worse off, it was because of me. If I explained, could he forgive me? Or would the only way to fix things be to reunite him and Mom? Was that even possible?

“I don’t know if it would make things easier or more difficult,” I said, trying to toss the thoughts from my mind. Things didn’t need to be more complicated; I needed everything to be simplified. It was the only way I could think of to put my life together enough to be useful to anyone.

“When you’re ready,” he said, sitting back again as though we had been talking about something as simple as taking college courses or moving out.

From there, we talked about Caroline and the next broadcast, as well as random points from her speeches. I discovered he and I actually thought about things in much the same way. If he had been an elemental, I bet he would have been air. Mostly because he put others first and himself second when thinking about the consequences of actions—which seemed to be a trend I’d picked up during my studying. He agreed there needed to be a change, but also that rallying the people into anger wasn’t necessarily the best way—considering how many people become uncontrollable and unpredictable when enraged.

I knew then that if I ever led my own revolution—if that’s what it was supposed to be—I wanted Ian on my side. When I second guessed myself, he would be someone who would see my dilemma and actually work towards helping me solve it in a way with which I was comfortable, versus letting me work it out alone (and possibly screwing everything up) or attempting to convince the only way was something contrary to my beliefs. That was something I knew I would need, especially if I wanted to succeed. And I did.