88 — Bonfires

There were dozens, positioned in many concentric rings, radiating out from the grandest in the center. I could imagine them all crackling, all sending sparks into the night sky, with their glow illuminating the faces of friend and stranger alike who gathered around them for warmth, as we talked and danced long into the early winter night.

But for now, they stood dark, and cold.

Night was still some time away.

15:00 — mid-afternoon

“You’ll never guess who I ran into at the tailors!” I blurted out, and then reconsidered, adding, “actually you may have no idea who this is, so I’ll start from the beginning.”

Roth Xavier and I both decided that no-one wanted to be the first person to approach the open bar. By all appearances, the caterer running it wanted to fully focus on creating the biggest pyramid of wine glasses the world had ever seen, and anyone rude enough to approach and ask for a little rosé was committing a grievous faux pas.

So, Roth and I approached together.

The caterer had been delighted, and now we two were sipping rosé as we waited for the bulk of the guests to arrive.

Roth nodded vigorously after taking a sip so small I could have sworn the wine didn’t touch his lips. “Always the best place to begin a story, I always say. Why that reminds me of a time—”

I wagged my finger. “Me first, come on— your stories are always much longer than mine.”

It had been fascinating to meet, and quickly befriend, someone who was friend to both Emmett and Natalie, though neither of them had known it until seven months ago. Roth had wasted no time in his attempts to befriend everyone in both circles after that day. Not a friend to waste, he had said.

“Okay, so this was… fuck, four years ago? I’ll do the math later. It was just after I had become myself—” I used both hands to indicate my figure, which was now ensnared in an almost-too-tight dress that I felt accentuated all of the wrong parts of my anatomy. A second soon enough, I remembered the glass of wine, and ceased my gesturing before I spilled. “—and I needed to start over. Natalie made a whole backstory for me out of thin air, and got me a job working as an assistant for a dress merchant.”

Roth nodded along, eyes never leaving me as he took another sip.

“Hey, Sheam?” I had almost hit Jaegré with my free hand that was still gesturing wildly as I told the story.

“Shit, sorry — need help with anything?” I said quickly. “Do you want me to…” I paused for dramatic effect, “... lend you a hand?”

Jaegré stared blankly. “Nice. I get it. Because you have hands to spare. Roth, what have you done to her?”

Roth was giggling like a maniac.

“Anyway, thanks, but no, we’re good. Bonfires are all set. I had us change the position of the outermost ring — I didn’t like how close it was to one of the elder trees at the perimeter.” He was still rubbing his hands. Even after all this time he was getting used to his new body. It was understandable considering that his first half-dozen years as a living being had been spent in a form that was a bit less at the mercy of a million constant external irritations. The dirt on his hands bothered him. The cold really bothered him. He’d get used to it.

“Oh, good, yes, that’s smart,” I said, casting my eyes to the far end of the broad courtyard that sat in a quiet corner of Emmett’s sprawling university grounds. We had sequestered it for the afternoon, evening, and if things went as I imagined they would, the next morning as well.

Jaegré continued, “I was just wondering if you’ve seen Kaite? Tony said she was with you.”

My face briefly crossed with concern, and started to glance around. The people present at this point were mostly university staff who were pitching in, the caterers Natalie had hired, and several clumps of strangers that I could only guess were friends or colleagues of Tony. “No idea,” I said after a moment. “Sorry. Wait— I bet she’s getting coffee.”

Jaegré thought for a moment, and nodded. “I think the caterer’s trailer has a machine. Or she could be wandering the grounds looking for a café. Either way I guess she’ll find us when she finds us.”

“Why do you ask?” I took a sip.

“I wanted to see if she had found a— you know what, you’ll see later,” he said with a glimmer in his eye. “Actually, where’s Flo? I thought she was helping the bartender set up?”

I shrugged dramatically and made a, fuck if I know, face. “Around? Maybe with Kaite?”

“Sheam, your glass!” Roth warned. I had nearly spilled again.

Jaegré snorted. “How many have you had already?”

“This is my first!” I insisted.

Jaegré shook his head. “Go easy. I know today will be rough on you. I can see you’re shaking. It’s going to be okay. Sheam, we’re all here, alright? Well, we’re all somewhere.”

I smiled broadly, took a deep breath, and nodded. “All here.” I then glanced up at the stately clock on the side of the graceful tower that hung over the courtyard.

15:21

I took another long breath. “Tony’s family arrives at the 16th-hour, then things kick off in earnest at 17th-hour,” I thought aloud, “and then there’s still all night ahead of us.”

“Like clockwork,” Roth said, “You know Natalie — planned out to the second. But Sheam, you have me on pins and needles. Your story?”

“Oh, right! Ah, sorry — see you around Jaegré! Good luck finding Kaite! — what was I say— right, the tailor’s.”

Jaegré waved and went to help some caterers move the dining tables into place. He had already heard this story.

“So back then, I had started over — new life from scratch. Nat had gotten me this job with this clothing merchant. Uhm, Cornath, Burt? Or Bart? He always went by Mister Cornath though. I had worked for him for what felt like a million fucking years back then. I never officially quit. I had snuck Flo in a few times to give her a sense of what clothing could be like, back when she was still figuring out who she was, and then did a bit of more egregious shoplifting—” I cleared my throat. “So anyway, didn’t exactly part on the best of terms. My fault, honestly.”

Roth’s face was creased with his gigantic smile, forehead all wrinkled up like a raisin as his eyes watered from enjoyment at my confession.

“But then, I guess almost a year ago — the police gala job, remember? Delphiné’s big announcement. My face, both of them, posted on every lamppost. Big reward for info about me — gosh, I really wonder if he actually collected.”

“He tried to turn you in!” Roth proclaimed.

“Yes!” I said loudly, this time actually spilling my wine. Thankfully, my dress was already pink. “And I just ran into him!”

“You didn’t!” Roth said, just as loudly, eyes wide. “What did he say?”

“Nothing!” I said with a laugh. “So, okay, I was getting fitted for this dress — terrible job, by the way, I wanted so badly to tell the assistant that she was using the measuring tape wrong, but I held my tongue. Anyway I’m standing there like a tree, frozen, tape around my breasts, facing myself in a mirror, barely a scrap of clothing on me, when who do I see peeking into the women’s fitting room? Like it didn’t occur to him that I could see the doorway in the mirror?”

“The letcher!” Roth shouted, face now red with laugher.

“Right! I don’t know what the fuck he was doing there. He knew the owner, probably? Doesn’t matter. So I look right at him — Mister fucking Cornath — and he freezes, realizing I can see him being a creeper. I keep statue still. I had already been giving the girl working there a hard time — fuck, she had to be no more than fifteen, poor thing. I was trying to be on my best behavior from that point, so I just glare.”

Roth let out a tremendous laugh, and very nearly spilled his own wine.

“I make a face at him, like this.” I opened my eyes as wide as they would go, squeezed my lips together, and pulled my cheeks back, making my mouth a long straight line.

Roth doubled over, bellowing out in laughter.

“So he just bolts. He's gone. But then he’s on my fucking mind for the rest of the sizing. I went over and over in my head what I’d say to him. Would I apologize for bailing on the job? The shoplifting? Did he even know about the shoplifting? Would I call him out for turning me in? Should I even talk to him at all? Should I pretend not to know him?”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” I said, finishing my wine by tipping the glass to the sky. “He was gone by the time I was done getting sized.”

17:05

The bonfires had been lit. 

I looked through the window as the geometric stacks of dry wood glowed and cracked, small flames only just beginning to lick their way to the sky. The crackling was almost louder than the low murmur of the assembly.

I stood anxiously, my heart pounding. I had manifested many small hands to try to discretely to tug my ill-fitting dress into a proper shape and position, not yet ready to resign myself to discomfort. I had hoped that anyone who saw me from the back and wasn't in the know would assume it was all just part of the quirky design.

My eyes were glued to the door of the small dressing area. It was normally used in service of the small theater on the university grounds, but today, like the courtyard, it had been sequestered.

“Almost ready!” promised Nat from within. 

“Okay. No rush but — I'm only saying this because you insisted I do — we're five past.”

“Ohh, fetching feathers unfurled. Yes. Yes I'm ready. I'm coming out.”

I smiled anxiously. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as they had fea—

Natalie emerged. Their face was as red as a fire poker. Their ginger hair was arranged to perfection in a cascade of ringlets. Their body was wrapped in a shoulderless white gown that cinched at the waist and then seemed to fill the entire room as it tapered out past their knees. Their shaking hands clung to a bouquet of white roses.

I was speechless.

“Does it work at all?” They pleaded, their voice shaking. “Don't I look like a great foo—?”

“You're stunning,” I said, my heart doing summersaults. “It's perfect. You're perfect.”

“I… I must admit to feeling rather naked.”

I moved to them in an instant and clung them to me, arms around their neck. “There's no one here who will judge you. But even if they did,” I felt my voice cracking. “They'd judge you as gorgeous.”

“Well, yes,” they said, as if choking for every word. “My dear friends, yes, but Tony's family—”

“Against their judgements, this is your suit of armor. They will see what they want to see. We can teach them later. Right now, this is your choice. This is you you're sharing. The real you.”

I felt their body heaving.

“Deep breaths,” I said slowly, even as I felt my tears streaking down my cheeks. “One second at a time. Breathe. The schedule is your schedule. Take as long as you need.”

We held each other for a good long moment. I did my best to keep my breathing slow for them, but I was just as terrified of today — for entirely different reasons.

“I know I should save sentimental nattering like this for my groom,” they said through their tears, “but I sometimes struggle to remember my life before you were in it.”

I laughed and squeezed them even more tightly. “If you think that you should keep such words only for Tony, I won't argue, but I accept nonetheless.”

They lifted away and smiled up at me. We were both lucky that we weren't wearing any makeup. “Will you be okay without your cane?” they asked, delaying.

I nodded. “The leg brace is okay. The pain killers help too. Today’s a good day. I'll be fine so long as I don't dance.”

They took one last breath. “Okay. Let's go.”

We both nodded, and headed down the hall to the double doors that opened into the courtyard. 

There were a sea of faces before us.

Many resembling Tony, but just as many who seemed to hail from the four corners of the world. The life of an archeologist connected one broadly.

It only took me a moment of scanning the crowd to see my own family. Kaite, wearing a dress — blood red — for possibly the first time in her life, and Flo no doubt turning heads in her black and gold hourglass-shaped tuxedo. Jaegré stood, clad in his usual robe, an arm around them both.

At the center stood Emmett at a podium, book and quill in hand. Beside him was Greg, acting as first witness. 

Grégoire’s participation had almost derailed the entire event. Tony had insisted on him, and Nat had insisted against him being present at all. Only after Tony had relented did Nat reopen the topic, brought Greg himself into the discussion, and the three came to an understanding. I didn't know if Nat and Greg would ever be friends, but Nat at least had trusted that Greg was a good friend to Tony.

And there he was, standing some distance between us and the podium, the groom himself. Tony's tuxedo almost made Flo's look plain in comparison. Every inch was embroidered with intricate floral patterns, woven with silver thread so that every contour caught the firelight. 

It looked like he had been crying too.

“Okay,” I said softly, and brought my other hand to cover Nat's as they clung to my arm. “Ready to be given away?”

They nodded, and squeezed my arm. The bouquet trembled. “Yes.” They took a breath. “The next threshold awaits.”

19:22

“I fucking hate weddings,” Kaite grumbled, and then shoved an entire dumpling in her mouth.

I dutifully handed her a napkin which she quickly used to clean tomato sauce off of her chin before throwing it down on the table forcefully. Greg and Emmett both jumped, but then seeing it was just Kaite being Kaite, resumed their discussion.

“Why do you hate them?” Flo asked, her arms around my neck, her chin on my shoulder, embracing me from behind.

“It's a fucking… party on a schedule. Watch the clock. Stand here. Now sit. Now be quiet. Now go here. Now eat. Now wait again. Now someone is going to make a speech. Now—”

“Gosh!” Flo said. “How many weddings have you been to?”

“Like… four? This is the fourth,” she growled.

“How many of those were you there to kill someone?” I asked with a playful smirk.

Kaite scoffed. “Two. Three if Ronald Flint doesn't keep making eyes at me.” She squeezed a cherry tomato, getting its insides halfway across the table. The aforementioned man quickly averted his gaze. “Did Nat have to invite so many fucking delegates to this thing?”

“Nat crossed over over ten years ago by now,” I said, taking a drink of red wine. I then lifted the glass to Flo to let her have a sip. “These are people they've known way longer than they've known us. It's only natural to want to reconnect with the good eggs now that the delegation is shattered.”

“They're awkward, but they're trying,” Flo said, kissing my neck before settling back into her seat beside me.

“Come on, babe,” Kaite said to me as she refilled her wine glass and then leaned close. “There's got to be at least one who you're pissed off is here — one you've been avoiding all night?”

“Eh,” I said reluctantly. 

Flo learned close too, mirroring Kaite. I was surrounded.

“Larry Maxwell,” I finally said. “He used to come into the museum back during my first year. Never shut up about how close he and Phaeros were. Never had any business being there. Never had a point to make. Also, fuck, the way he’d stare at me. I still had both bodies back then so I got to see how differently he treated men and women every single time he loitered.”

“Fucking Larry,” Kaite hissed. “Okay, he's going on my hit list.”

“That's Emmett's friend!” Flo insisted. “He was a big help during the divorce! He was a witness!”

“Ugh, fine,” Kaite groaned. I hadn't even noticed she had picked up a steak knife. “Not going to let me have any fun tonight.”

“Dancing will be fun!” Flo said, brightening. “I can't wait. I've been practicing!”

Kaite suddenly looked disarmed. “Flo, babe,” she said, glancing between the two of us. “That's…” She seemed to soften, her eyes filling with care. “I'm not going to dance. I'm not going to leave Sheam alone as we all dance.”

Flo's eyes suddenly filled with the realization. “Oh, fuck, I'm sorry sweetheart,” she said in a rush. 

“It's okay!” I insisted. “Really! You two dance! I'll stick with Emmett. We have a lot to talk about.”

“No you don't!” Kaite said harshly. “No work talk. You promised. You swore.”

I put my hands up. “No work talk.”

Flo resumed her previous embrace, nestling her face against my neck. “As long as you're sure you won't feel left out,” she said softly.

“Where the fuck is Jaegré!” Kaite complained, throwing a half-eaten morsel of food back onto her plate. “I need someone who will listen to me whine without trying to cheer me up.”

“Still fussing over the bonfires I imagine,” I said, trying to catch sight of him. He was much harder to spot now that he was merely above-average height. “They’re his babies. He wants each one to be perfect.”

“It's Sheam, yes? Are we — ah… are we interrupting?”

I looked up as an older couple joined us at our table just as Flo sunk her teeth into my shoulder. “Ahhh!” I exclaimed, half started by our guests and half from the pain of the very ungentle bite. “No, no, Mister and Missus Carmichael, please join us!” I said nervously.

Tony’s parents exchanged glances as Flo affectionately licked her bite marks. His father spoke first. “It's just, we've formally met, but haven't yet really gotten to know the — I'm sorry what is your relationship to our son's bride?’

“Husband,” Flo said promptly. “Nat is Tony's husband. They insist on that title.”

“Oh, yes, forgive us,” Mrs. Carmichael said. “It will take some getting used to. So, how do you know, er, her?”

“Them,” Flo corrected again. “Nat has no gender so you can't really call them he or she.”

Kaite snorted and then gave a brief laugh as the confusion crossed the faces of the older couple. “You'll get the hang of it,” she said, and refilled her wine glass again. “Just be ready for a scolding if you slip up and call Nat ‘he’.”

“I'm an old friend,” I said quickly to rescue them. “Their parents are no longer with us so they picked me to walk them down the aisle. It was one of the most special honors of my life.”

“Oh my, you must be an important friend indeed!” Mr. Carmichael said. “And this must be your… ah? Partner?” He looked at Flo with uncertainty. Her tuxedo and closely cropped hair seemed to be causing some confusion.

“Girlfriend,” Flo said, fingers licking the back of my neck as her lips teased my jaw. 

“I'm also her girlfriend,” Kaite said, leaning close to kiss my forehead. She then turned my head towards her with a gentle touch on the cheek, and kissed me soft and slow on the lips.

“I'm Flo, and that's Kaite — she's also my girlfriend.” Flo snuck in, stealing Kaite's lips from mine, and then pecked mine for good measure.

I was blushing horribly.

“That seems…” Mrs. Carmichael began, looking uncertain.

“Complicated…” finished her husband with equal uncertainty.

I shrugged. “Been pretty simple so far,” and then hugged my two loves close.

The older couple seemed like they needed a moment to process what they were seeing. The three of us gave them all the time they needed.

“And what do you do, Sheam?” Mrs. Carmichael finally asked after they had spent a moment speaking quietly among themselves.

“Oh, I'm… I work with your son actually. He didn't tell you? I own and curate a museum. Tony has been a tremendous help. I daresay he knows the place better than me at this point.”

They both came alive. “Oh! You're that Sheam! Yes! Tony has spoken very proudly of the work you two do together.”

“Wait,” I said urgently. “That Sheam? How many do you know?”

“Oh,” Mister Carmichael said, looking to his wife. “I'm not sure we know any personally. It's not a common name. Where we're from it’s actually surname—”

“In fact we had thought you were a man!” Mrs. Carmichael said with a laugh.

“Ohh,” I said awkwardly, trying not to let my mood dip at the unexpected turn. “I honestly hadn't realized it was a real name—”

“Why would you think that Sheam was a man?” Flo asked, a bit roughly, but with more curiosity than judgement.

“Ah, well!” Mr. Carmichael began, but simply looked to his wife without finishing.

“It’s just that that sort of business is men’s work, isn’t it?” she added. “Though I suppose times are changing. We need to evolve, dear,” she concluded to her husband.

He simply nodded. I was glad to let the topic drop.

I steered the conversation away. “So yes, museum curator — that's what I do. It’s, uh… it’s a lot of work. Lots of long nights. Lots of, you know, organizing, and whatnot.”

Flo was staring at me with a strange look in her eyes, concerned that I might be in pain. I kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand. I'm okay.

You used to talk with such passion about the Circle, she expressed straight into my mind. 

I took a breath. She was right. When had I—

“Artisan,” Kaite offered. “Metalworks — bit of wetwork too.” The second statement was added with a smirk.

“That’s when you cool the hot metal rapidly in water, right?” I cut in with a grin.

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly what that means. Sure,” Kaite replied with a wink. She then met the curious gazes of the polite couple. “Been training Flo here, and just took on a second apprentice.”

“Oh, splendid!” Mister Carmichael exclaimed. “What's the lad called?”

“Lass,” Kaite corrected. “Lorne. And she's… uh. She's…” Kaite looked into her wine glass, whispered, “terrifying,” and drained it to the last drop.

“I'm a mistress!” Flo proudly offered.

The couple was stupefied.

“That… can mean a lot of different things, my love,” I said urgently.

I remembered a time not long ago when Flo’s choice in profession made my anxiety spike. I had once thought that her being drawn into it had come from a self-destructive reflex, but I had been projecting. There was nothing destructive about this to her. She loved to give and receive care, and understood that that could take many, very personal forms. She loved to get into people’s heads, understand how they ticked, and leave those heads a better place from her passage. She was exploring ways to do that, and some of them would be sexual. I felt proud of her.

“Oh, right! No, no-one is having an affair with me. At least, not yet. And if they do, that’s not my business. Anyway, I go by Miss Ephemeral. I specialize in social and sexual domination with light bondage, but try to meet the many complex needs of a diverse assortment of clients,” she said proudly. “Or I will. I'm still working on that. Getting clients I mean. Oh! Maybe you two—”

“Better to let others let you know if they're interested in private, babe,” Kaite said quickly. 

“Oh! Yes. I'm sorry. You can talk with me after,” she said with a radiant glow. 

I seemed to remember being like that when I talked about the Circle.

Suddenly we heard tapping against a wine glass. “Attention everyone!” Emmett cried out, drawing the eyes and ears of all seated at the dozens of tables. A hush followed, the only sound the roar of the many bonfires that kept the cold of the night at bay.

“I'm afraid you're going to have to suffer through a few very sentimental speeches now.” There was laughter. “I know, I know. Terrible, right? But I have good news. I'm not saying another word after this! That is, until it's time to announce dessert! But for now, I give you our first witness, my old friend, and holder of most of dear Tony's most embarrassing stories — Grégoire Layne!”

I clapped along with everyone else, but felt a chill come over me. 

Soon it would be my turn. 

20:15

My heart was in my throat.

I held a champagne glass in front of me. 

A hundred faces stared back, expectantly: Tony's many family members and colleagues, delegates who had come over to our cause, contributors to Nat's spy network, the owners and staff of the cantina, my girlfriends, Jaegré, Tony, and Nat — all waiting for me to begin my speech. 

I had said I would. I had promised.

I knew how it began. I had written it all out. I could hear my own voice crystal-clear in my head.

I had met Natalie hours after stepping into this new world. As I imagine some of our mutual friends have noticed, we both look a little different now! — Pause for laughter. — So, if you know Nat, it should come as no surprise that they immediately began to flirt with me. — Pause for laughter. — But soon their attraction to me resolved into genuine care and unconditional friendship. They have been the one constant in my life. I don’t know where I'd be today without them.

I cleared my throat.

“When Nat and I first met,” I said, my voice shaking so heavily I wasn't sure if I could even be understood. “We both looked a little different.”

The assembly was silent. The roar of the bonfires had once been comforting. Now, the sound was a torment.

“We, uh,” I tried to resume. “We both became fast friends, though, if I'm being honest, I think it was mostly that Nat had a crush…”

My heart was now pounding. It was louder than the fires. I felt heavy. My chest felt crushed under a weight, like dozens of small hands—

“Uhm,” I said, trembling. “But the truth was I saw them as more of a…” I trailed off, blinking.

My head began to spin. I was sure I could see a man among the many tables, standing at attention, champagne glass slowly lowering as I steadily disappointed him, his eyes fixed on me. 

Daelus could feel his brother's eyes on him. The older man was waiting. Daelus was supposed to have prepared a speech. Daelus had done so — but the moment he stood up before the two gathered families, he hesitated.

It was Daelus’ brother’s wedding. It was his special day. Many had a role to fill, and Daelus was no exception. He was failing it — on purpose.

His chest felt so tight. He couldn't breathe. His head was spinning. Was he really going through with this? If he did, what would be the repercussions?

He searched the crowd. He didn't recognize the faces of the family of his brother’s wife-to-be. Daelus was surrounded by strangers. This wasn’t for them, but they needed to hear it all the same.

Then, finally, he saw his mother. She wasn't paying attention. She had the younger sister standing silently by her side, while busily explaining something to — someone? The bride's uncle? Cousin? It didn't matter. He knew what she was saying. She always told every story about the sister in the exact same way. This was the one about an award she had gotten for her poetry when she was ten.

Daleus could feel his brother's eyes on him. He knew what the man was thinking. What are you waiting for?

It was no good. Their mother didn’t care about any of this. This was just an opportunity for her to mingle and show off. The speech didn’t matter. None of this mattered. There was no use waiting for her.

Daelus took a breath. He felt cold. He felt ashamed. He felt that there was no reason to delay any longer, and began.

“I really only know one thing about my brother,” Daelus said carefully, feeling like he was sinking into the floor. “He settles for nothing less than perfection. If it's not good enough for him, he discards it — forgotten instantly. It’s how we were all raised to expect others to treat us, after all.”

Daelus met his brother’s eyes. Did the man know what Daelus was trying to say? Did he know how Daelus felt about those words? All he saw was relief. Finally, the man was thinking, what took the idiot so long to begin?

“So, what does this tell us about his bride to be? Honestly I haven’t really met her, but I am guessing she must be a lot like him. He is uncompromising, so I can’t see him as having compromised with her.”

There was a laugh. Did no one know this wasn't a joke? Could no-one hear the indictment of the family culture?

Daelus felt ashamed. He had written this speech for her — his mother — not for the groom, and now she wasn’t even listening. He was humiliating himself, and wouldn’t even have the satisfaction of knowing his words had cut into her mind.

He gazed at her. Just one glance. Just one look to indicate that you know that I exist.

She then did. Her green eyes pierced. Her auburn hair coiled around her head like a crown. She lifted her chin slightly, indicating that she knew that she had won.

That wasn’t my mother’s face.

Daelus’s chest constricted. 

My chest constricted.

Daelus was gasping for air.

I was gasping for air. 

Daelus couldn’t breathe.

I couldn't breathe. 

Daelus couldn't—

I stumbled, but caught myself. Hands tried to grasp at me but I pushed them away. I was outside. There were fires — why were there fires? I turned the other way, and ran. 

My leg burned, pain shooting from my thigh straight into my brain. Why did it hurt? I was limping. Had I been wounded? 

I ran anyway.

I found an open door. I found a hall. I ran. I found another door. I pushed through it. It was dark inside. It smelled of dust. I slammed the door behind me. I fell to the floor. I crawled to the corner.

What was I wearing? It felt so tight. I pulled at it. I tore it. I couldn't breathe. I gasped for air. The room was small and dark and I couldn't breathe. I curled into the corner and I couldn't breathe.

You can breathe.

I couldn't. I couldn't. I didn't know how. 

It's okay. Sheam. You can't see me, but I'm here. It's me — your Ephie. I'm here. You can breathe. Just let the air in. Slow. Let it in.

I let the air in slow. 

Now out. Slow. Kaite is here too. We're all here. Out slow.

I let it out slow, and out, and out.

May we come into the room with you? We're all at the door. We can come in one at a time if you need. But we're all here.

I nodded. One at a time. I was crying. I was crying and I nodded.

The door cracked open. A small woman in a tuxedo came in slowly. “Is it okay if I touch you?” she asked.

I nodded.

She got down on the floor with me and began to lightly stroke my neck. “Do you remember who I am?” she asked.

I nodded. “Ephie.”

She smiled. “Yes. You were somewhere else for a moment. Somewhere farther away than I have ever felt you go.”

There was another shape at the door. I reached out. “Kaite,” I said weakly.

She came in and also joined me on the floor. “Babe, what happened? I've never seen you like that. You were like a cornered animal.”

“I was… back. Before crossing over. A memory. I was in it.” I was trying desperately to wipe the tears from my face but they just kept coming. 

There was recognition on Kaite’s face — an understanding that went deeper than just the meaning of my words. “What the fuck could have — Sheam what terrifying fucking thing did you remember?”

I laughed. I burst out laughing as I was crying. “It’s so stupid. Giving a speech at my brother's wedding.” Then, I just cried. I cried loud and messy. They both clung to me as I got tears and snot all over them.

“That’s not stupid, babe,” Kaite insisted. “Shit, I wish you had told us that this could stir things up for you.”

“I didn’t think it would be this bad,” I croaked.

A third who had been hovering at the doorway finally entered the room. “What in the everlasting heavens did this brother do to you?” Nat said, getting their dress dirty on the dusty floor to crawl up together with us.

“Nothing,” I said, still trying to steady my breathing. “Just exist, I guess? I didn't even really know him. He was… older. Ten years? From a previous marriage. No one ever talked about his father. He — my brother — was a stranger to me.”

“But you were giving a speech at his wedding?” Flo asked, confused.

“They called it best man. I shouldn't have been it. I didn't know why I was. I thought maybe our mother had made him? But then I was invited to a party that had been assembled for him by his closest friends, and… what an empty life. He had no one. Not a soul. There were people from his job — he was a salesperson. I don't remember what. All they talked about was the work, and how much they all hated it. That’s when I understood… I was the best he had.”

“That's so…” Flo began.

“Pathetic,” Kaite finished. 

“Like Jossimer,” Nat said solemnly.

I nodded. “Some people just… isolate themselves. Even his wife — I don't even remember her name. She was just… him again. Same interests. Same views. She was maybe worse, in some ways? I remembered that she seemed to hate most people — types of people. Fuck, he married himself.” I laughed. “Maybe he wished that he was a woman too. At least then he and I would have had something to talk about.”

“Hey,” Jaegré said gently as he squeezed into the room. “Got room for one more on your crew, captain?”

I felt myself smile. “My family is here.” Kaite quickly got Jaegré up to speed on what had been said, while I thought, with Flo slowly rubbing my back.

A question that had been asked earlier still hung in the air. “No,” I finally began, “that day, it wasn’t about what he had done to me, it was what I was trying to do to him, with my speech. I feel… so ashamed, and I’ll never get to apologize.”

They all exchanged glances, likely unsure of what to say or ask. I realized I needed to come clean, and let them judge me — let them hate me.

“So, I figured, there’d I’d be, in a role I had no business being in, giving a speech for a couple I barely knew, a brother I barely knew. My entire family would be there, so I decided to use it — to hurt them. I decided to use it to hurt my mother. I made this… cold, cruel speech, where I walked everyone through how fucked up the family was… but I was just like them — selfish, manipulative. That was them. That’s me.”

“Lot of amnesia going around these days,” Jaegré said with a skeptical look, but Kaite nudged him silent.

“No, no,” I pleaded, wiping away tears. “I know that was a long time ago. I know I’m a lot different now. It was just a memory. A horrible memory where I tried to give some hurt back to a family that was hurting me, in the only way I knew how. But in the end, it only hurt myself more. They didn’t care. No-one noticed. No-one understood a word of what I said. They laughed, they clapped, they cheered. All of my criticisms… all of my dragging the horrible ways all of them were up into their faces… all of the horrible ways she was — they just listened, and nodded along.”

Flo stroked my cheek softly, her eyes wells of compassion. “I think you regret trying to hurt them. It doesn’t matter to you that it didn’t work — you regret that you tried at all. Even back then, you regretted it. That’s not a way you grew to become. That you was always there.”

I allowed myself to smile at her, wishing I saw myself with as much compassion as she did. Finally, I spoke up again. “That old world family — they'll never know. They'll never know what I meant to do that day, and how I regretted it. They’ll never know who I really was back then, and who I've become. They'll never meet any of you. They'll never understand how full and rich and loving a family can be. They’ll never see the contrast. I have that, and they never will. And… it hurts. It hurts to ask — why me and none of them? How is that fair? Why did I deserve this beautiful journey and they just… were.”

“Maybe they did,” Jaegré said. “You don't know what happened after you crossed over. Maybe they changed. Maybe they were happy. Maybe they loved and felt love, too. Maybe that brother of yours and his wife figured out that they did have differences after all, and grew to love those differences. Maybe they all grew too. We don't know.”

“We don't know,” I said solemnly.

“Darling, what terrified you so much about that memory?” Flo asked, still stroking my neck. “I understand the regret you feel about that moment, but we’ve battled that sort of thing before, and it wasn’t like this. Up there, on the dais, giving your toast… you weren’t just upset or panicking, you were terrified.”

“I don't know,” I said. “It's weird. I… I never think about him — my brother. Never. Okay, maybe this is maybe the third or fourth time since crossing over. My sister, sure. You know I always felt like she was my replacement? I overheard them say one day that they had always wanted a girl — my parents said that. Funny… if only they knew. But they didn’t, they had me, and so they tried again immediately. She was born less than a year later. Their perfect daughter. 

“But… I honestly kind of get it now. It’s so fucked up. I belonged to the delegation already — even as a child, they knew I could project entourage. My parents knew I was fated to leave them — maybe they knew not long after I was born? Did they have tests for that back then? I don’t know. All I know is, I was never really theirs, so they poured all of their love into the youngest. I just… existed. I was an obligation. Raise me, prepare me for service, and then say goodbye forever. That must have hurt. That must have been… how unspeakably cruel.”

Kaite spoke with her teeth clenched. “Fuck… I can’t imagine, I am sorry.”

“That is inconceivably abhorrent… it’s — so fucked up." Nat said, shaking their head furiously. “The pain wrought by the delegation clearly knows no bounds. However — that does not absolve your family of wrongdoing. They still chose to treat you that way. They could have made another choice. They did not.”

“No,” I said, my voice growing gentle. “But it does help me to forgive them. And I do want to forgive them.”

“Wild to think it was similar for Nat, Emmett, and me,” Kaite said, almost to herself. “The moment we’re born, the yolk is around our neck.”

Flo was silent, but I could feel her eyes on me. She wasn’t probing into my head — she respected my privacy — but she seemed to be searching for something. Suddenly she turned to Kaite, and met her eyes. I felt like there was a moment of unspoken clarity between them.

Kaite spoke first. “You know Sheam, there’s something you and I both do,” she said slowly. “We kind of dance around what’s really wrong.”

Flo nodded. “It’s okay if you don’t want to say it, but you also don’t need to be afraid to.”

They both had me. I was saying true things, but I was avoiding a deeper, more terrifying truth. I thought back to the memory. I tried to picture my mother's face as she ignored me during the wedding speech. I couldn't. It had been overwritten by another. I only saw her face.

I gave in. I was going to talk about the thing I had been avoiding since the moment Flo had saved me that bloody morning. “So, in the memory,” I began cautiously, but felt myself trembling. “The reason why it was so terrifying was… my stupid fucked up brain decided to remember my mother looking exactly like Delphiné.”

“Goodness,” Nat said, covering their mouth with their hand. “Wait — was Delphiné actually…”

“No!” I insisted, and surprised myself that it came out with a laugh. “No, definitely not. Like, right now I can picture my mother. She was a small woman, with curly black hair. No resemblance at all. It was just a bullshit thing my subconscious did to me. It’s not the first time, either.”

Kaite and Flo both moved close to squeeze me, and silently held on for a moment.

Finally, I dared continue. “I never told you all that Delphiné actually did break me.”

Kaite looked skeptical. “You said you almost gave in, and then I said—”

I shook my head. “No, I did give in. Totally and completely.”

“But, my love, you said Obs helped you though it?” Flo asked cautiously.

“She tried, but I didn't listen at first. If Delphiné had just promised to love me, love me the way… the way I needed my mother to — the way she never can because she died a thousand years ago, I would have given up everything… became her obedient son. I even told Delphiné that was what I needed from her. I asked for it. I promised to stand by her side if she gave it. If it hadn’t been for Obs talking sense into me—” 

I began to sob again. I choked on my words. I couldn't get them out. I couldn't explain.

Kaite spoke up. “Babe you were alone, terrified, on the brink of death…” she clenched her eyes shut, betrayed by her own tears. “Our minds do fucked up stuff to us in moments like that. You pulled out of it. You did. You always say — Babe, for fuck’s sake — Obs is you. Every time you talk about her I'm like… that’s you, Sheam. Why did you dream up a new person to put all of your strength into? She is you. You pulled yourself out of it. Give yourself that credit. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

She is, fundamentally, correct. Giving me credit in that moment is appreciated, but it is also unnecessary. It is like crediting your brain for solving a problem rather than yourself. In that instance, I was your brain, my love — stupid and fucked up though I may sometimes be.

Shit, I’m sorry, Obs. That was cruel of me.

No offense taken. Just, let’s not insult ourselves so much, please?

I curled up and pressed my head against Kaite’s body. “You’re right — Obs says you’re right, too. I did it, I pulled myself out of it. I gave in, but then I broke free anyway.”

“We’re allowed to fall apart sometimes,” she said, kissing my head.

“I'm afraid,” Flo began, her voice trembling with concern, “that I don't know how to help with the memory. Something was broken between you and your mother and now she and Delphiné are all tangled up in your mind. Maybe, in time… but right now… I'm sorry baby, I don't know how to help right now. I want to fix that but I don’t know how.”

“It's not always about fixing a thing.” Emmett was now in the room with us too, along with Tony. We were all sitting in a circle in the dark, each of my precious loved ones a little light in my heart.

“Sometimes you can just know it's broken, and mind it. Give yourself grace. Know that the hurt is going to hurt. Get through each day as you can. Sometimes you avoid the things that will make the pain shoot up. Sometimes you ask for help. You ask for help. What's important is you're not alone.”

Flo smiled up at Emmett, and nodded. “And whenever she asks,” she paused and turned to me, “I’ll be there.”

“I am sure any of us would be,” Tony said with a firm nod.

“Nat, Tony, I'm so sorry,” I said, bursting again. “I ruined your wedding!”

“Hah!” Tony cried out. “Oh she of little faith,” in a tone and cadence that was a perfect match for Nat’s. They were husband and husband, alright. 

Nat laughed and patted my hand. “Did you not realize that sitting on the floor in a dark room comforting our dear friend as she cried about an entirely understandable trauma was listed on the wedding schedule? We're hitting it on the dot!”

I laughed, a real, deep, honest laugh. “Thank you,” I squeaked.

“Come on,” Jaegré said, offering me his big hand. “Your dress is all torn. Let's get you a new one.”

22:45

I sat in a comfortable elastic set of undergarments wrapped in a warm burgundy-colored robe that both felt like air and like no measure of cold could penetrate. Jaegré’s clothing solution was an entourage projection. He was maintaining it himself.

I sat with Emmett, listening to the rousing music, both of us leaned forward to watch the merriment. I had recovered my cane from the cloak room both to content with the lingering pain my crazed sprint had left me with, and in case the painkillers left me feeling woozy. Emmett had a brand new crutch, likewise a gift from Greg, but this time free of any little technological extras.

“I can't say I envy you,” Emmett said. “A lot of delegates would kill to get their memory back, but it sounds like hell,” he said with a laugh.

A pair of men older than Emmett, but younger than Tony's parents, nearly crashed into us. It was the cantina owners, Bertille and Rodger, dancing wildly, drunk off their asses. “Come dance with us!” they pleaded, but we waved them off with blown kisses.

“It's been complicated,” I said. “I take the good and the bad. Tony’s been interviewing me, you know? Chronicling my memories. I’ve even helped him find a few archeological sites. So, there’s that.”

“There is that, and that’s huge,” Emmett said with reverence.

I went on. “I carry a lot of hurt with me, but also the majority of my living memories. I was twenty-eight when I crossed over. That’s a lot of context I now get to try to understand. It’s my complete self. I get to allow everything those younger versions of me learned, every way they grew, help me continue to grow today.”

Emmett nodded. “I was younger — twenty two. So by now I have more years alive in this life than I’ve lost. I have no idea who I’d be if I suddenly got those memories back.”

I smiled. “You, just… more. You’d still be you.”

Emmett smiled. “It is curious to see how many ways, and in how many different contexts, one can still be themselves.”

Another body crashed into us — this time hard enough so we both spilled out drinks. “Sheam!” a drunk Kaite shouted. “Flo. She…” Kaite burped loudly. 

“She?” I asked, hesitating.

“Has someone on a leash.”

“A — oh, wow.”

Emmett began to laugh.

“Please tell me it's not a member of Tony's family,” I said, feeling that Emmett's laughter was contagious. 

Kaite looked me dead in the eyes. “My love, I cannot lie to you. I'm almost certain it's Tony's younger brother.”

“Oh… oh dear.” I said, covering my mouth. “Does he know it's a … sex thing?”

“Do we know it's a sex thing?” Emmett asked pointedly.

“I shall observe,” Kaite said, winking, and then vanished, her attention raptly engaged.

“How’s the leg?” Emmett asked, leaning close.

“Oh, a lot better. Those pills are like magic.” I lifted the leg, as if it was possible to see the medicine working away beneath the surface. Thankfully I hadn’t damaged the brace during my panic.

Emmett laughed. “The drug is all in your head. The pain is still there, you just can’t feel it for a bit.”

I took a long breath. “Do they also make me feel all… floaty, and light? Am I drugged?”

Emmett shook his head. “A little drowsy, maybe, but the rest… that’s just the feeling of being cared for,” he said with a grin.

I scoffed, but then smiled at him. I knew I was blushing. “Oh, only that,” I said bashfully.

“Speaking of,” Emmett began, slapping his knees. “Given that your girlfriends seem busy, mind if I ask you for a dance, young lady?”

I blinked. “But… won't that make my leg hurt again? More?”

Emmett smirked. “A little tonight, a lot tomorrow. But we'll remember the joy and forget the pain. I call it borrowing happiness from tomorrow to make a little joy in the now. And you haven't said no.”

I smiled. “Can’t live every second afraid of getting hurt, is that it? Okay. Yeah. Let's dance.”

And so, we danced.

It did hurt a little at first, but the pain soon faded as the joy took us. We spun, we swayed, we lost ourselves in the moment, and in the crowd.

The music swept me away. I felt weightless. I felt my mind grow unburdened. There was no more delegation. No more Delphiné. No more Circle. Just the music, my heart, and my loved ones.

As I moved to the music, still spinning and swaying, I found myself in Kaite's arms. I hadn't even noticed the exchange. “Hi baby,” I said, suddenly realizing how drunk I was.

“Hey babe,” she said, and then we really began to dance.

We darted back and forth. We jumped in place. Kaite spun me and threw me into the air. She caught me and spun me again. The next time she threw and caught me she cradled me in her arms. I clung there, my face pressed between her breasts.

“You like it there,” she said joyfully.

“Yeh,” I replied sloppily.

“Then stay. Your leg is going to be fucked tomorrow. I'll carry you the rest of the night.”

“Really?” I asked, my heart busting. 

“Really,” she said gently. “And as long after that as you want.”

“I love you,” I murmured.

“I fucking love you,” Kaite shouted loud enough for everyone to hear.

The night Kaite and I had met, I tried to kill her — and then she killed me instead. Since that moment she had never stopped turning my world upside down. She rewired my brain. She set my heart on fire. In life, just as in the dance, she pushed and pulled and lifted me. She terrified me in all of the best, most amazing ways a person in love could be terrified. It was the kind of fear that made me want to change the world. She made me want to stare evil in the eye, and not blink. And then, after all of that, she had taught me to be fearless, in all of the ways a person in love could be fearless.

“How, why?” I asked, suddenly confused, overwhelmed by the intensity of my own thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“How did I earn this?”

“Babe, you didn't.” She said quickly, her eyes glowing. “That's what makes it true.”

I hadn't even noticed that the music had slowed. She kept her promise. We danced for longer than I understood time could allow. I felt like I lived and died and lived again in that dance.

Late. Early? It didn’t matter.

The bonfires crackled, making big loud pops every time a snowflake fluttered too close. They had grown dim, but still had hours of light and warmth to give.

We sat in the grass. My head was in Kaite's lap. Flo was leaned up against us both. She had been looking up at the stars, such as they were visible this deep into the city, but quickly changed to snowflake-spotting every time one got close enough to be visible over the glow of the flames.

Kaite stroked through both of our hair. Flo's was shaggy enough to almost cover her ears. She was purring.

Nat and Tony were nearby, also sitting in the grass, deep in a conversation that was only theirs to know. I regretted not having had more time to speak with Tony, but it was to be expected. He had had dozens of people to meet and catch up with. We’d have plenty of time to talk, soon — there was always more work to be done.

Much of Tony's family had already retired to their lodging. It had been a long journey for many of them to Rivton, so their exhaustion had been understandable. A dozen or so other guests remained, Roth among them, locked in an energetic conversation with both cantina owners about proper parcel delivery. It had developed into a contest to see who could espouse the most fiercely held belief on how to get a fragile item shipped safely.

Emmett was nearby, but asleep, a likewise slumbering set of manifested hounds providing comfort to his head, and leg. Those hounds had entertained what could possibly have been two dozen children for the better part of an hour — running, playing fetch, doing increasingly complex tricks. Those children, eight or nine family’s worth of nieces, nephews, and cousins, were now all fast asleep in their beds. Emmett had insisted on staying up with us, but had faded to slumber just as quickly.

Jaegré was a slowly approaching silhouette, carrying something large. I recognized it at once, but Kaite beat me to it. “About time you brought that out,” she said with a twinge of pride. “Took me enough effort to get you one.”

“Had to tune it. And it had been a while. Needed to warm up.”

Flo perked up. “A guitar?”

“Yeah,” he said, sitting on the grass near us. “Actually it's to take with me when I go Giant watching. But I figured I'd give it a go with you all.”

“Can't fucking wait to leave us,” Kaite said, with just enough mirth to betray that she didn't mean it. 

Jaegré ignored her, and began to play. 

We three listened. Flo untangled herself and moved to lay on her belly, chin on her palms, looking up at her older brother. “Gosh, I want to learn to play something,” she half-whispered. “Like a flute maybe? A band. We can be a band. Raven Calculus!”

I breathed, and listened. 

Kaite breathed with me, and rubbed my back. 

We all listened to the slow, comforting, dream-like melody.

Nat and Tony took notice, and drew close to listen. 

Emmett stirred, and listened. His hounds lifted their heads as well.

The sound of the crackling bonfires mixed with the flowing sound of Jaegré's music. I didn't know how long it would last. I didn't care. Soon the sun would rise.

It would rise to find us together.