The room was lined with chairs arranged in a circle. There were twelve of them, but only six seats besides his own were taken, and two were taken specifically by Steve and Lauren. Auberon wasn’t really sure what to expect– all he’d really understood is that he’d be given a chance to learn more of Lauren’s sign language. It certainly didn’t hurt that Steve appeared to be fluent in it, translating her own words.

Once everyone was seated, Steve went through the room asking everyone to introduce themselves and give a little fact about themselves.

Auberon wasn’t quite 

First there was John, who introduced himself as a widower. He mentally added that to a list of word he would have to ask Ezra about. He didn’t know the term, but he could see the man struggled to speak of it.

Next there was Amanda, who was a recovering addict. At least Auberon understood that– Ziggy, after all, was a recovering addict.

Third was a younger man named Chris, who was an alcoholic.

Then it came to Auberon’s turn. “I am Obie,” he said. “I come to learn.”

Lauren flashed him a smile as Steve translated his words to her.

To his surprise, Lauren joined the introduction. She signed to Steve, who repeated her words aloud. “She says her name is Lauren,” Steve began.

As he spoke, he examined Lauren’s hand symbols. He found himself subconsciously mimicking the movements.

“And she’s a student,” Steve added.

Auberon found himself surprised to hear that. She didn’t strike him as the type to be a scholar. Scholars rarely sullied their hands with the likes of beggars and drunks. Was she from a powerful family? What was she a student of? 

“And my name is Steve,” Steve finally said. “I’m the director of the Vancouver Helping Hands Group, and I want to welcome everyone here tonight. I just want to remind everyone that this is a non-judgemental space. Everyone here has a history. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, but sometimes it helps to talk about these things.”

Steve then related a story of his youth, admitting he had been leading the life of a common criminal before he was imprisoned for his crimes. There, he met a fellow named Jesus– a name he’d heard before many a time. He spoke of Jesus like he was a man everyone present knew. Auberon hadn’t the foggiest notion who he was, but Steve said he’d helped him turn his life to one of service, rather than crime.

Afterward, he turned to Auberon and said, “Obie, you’re new here. It’s tradition that newcomers speak first. Got anything you want to say?”

Auberon blinked. What did the man want to know? What could Auberon even say? He must have appeared to be taken aback, because Steve was quick to pick up on it.

“It’s okay if you don’t. We can come back around to you if you want.”

“Dunno what to say,” he said.

“Could be anything. A small victory. Tell us about where you come from. Estonia, wasn’t it? What brought you to Canada? What are you thankful for?”

Auberon felt put on the spot for a moment. He couldn’t very well tell the man the truth, but he felt he needed to say something, even if only to avoid suspicion. He remained silent for a moment, searching for something to say.

Finally, he reached for the pendant around his neck. “This… made by sister, Amyra.” He rubbed the ivory carving between his thumb and forefinger. “She give me at…” He paused for a moment, realizing he didn’t know the word. “Became man’s wife?” he asked.

“A wedding?” the woman Amanda asked.

“Wedding. Yes. She join with good man. She make, give me as gift. She is… only sister. Other sister, dead. Mother and father, dead. When we both young, in war.” He sighed. “I left for fighting in war. She go with… Mother’s sister. Far away. Not see for long time. When at wedding, I see her once more. She make wife to good man. Kind man. She not need me any longer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” John added.

“Before I come here I… I lose everything. All dead. Have nothing anymore,” he explained. “But this.” He held the pendant. “This I am thankful for. Makes me know I loved. Even if I never see Amyra again.”

Lauren waved her hand, capturing Auberon’s attention. She signed toward him, and again Steve’s voices raised up in translation.

“She says that sometimes the smallest glimmer of hope is all we need to shoulder the weight of the world,” he explained. “And she is impressed by your strength.”

“Yeah,” Chris added. “That’s wild, Obie. I can’t even imagine.”

Lauren made another flurry of hand signals toward Auberon. “Can’t you see your sister again?” Steve translated.

Auberon reached up and scratched his head. “No. Don’t think so. She wife now. Far away. Too far. I here now. I stay. Have to.”

Lauren kept her eyes locked with Auberon’s for a moment. He could see the emotion in them as they glistened under the flickering foreign lights.

Steve moved the meeting forward, and addressed the others. Auberon heard their stories, listening closely.

Like every Outworlder he’d come to know, their lives, too were filled with tragedy. With injustice. He listened to them explain their poor decisions, their injuries, their suffering.

Their stories were no different than his own. Than of Rost, of Rustam. Of any Embrayyan he’d known. As they spoke, he found himself confronting his deepest thoughts.

These Outworlders were victims of their own circumstances. It was insular, part of living. Of the human experience. Couldn’t it be possible, then, that he had been wrong?

He looked down at his hands. He’d killed dozens, many with Vetzsche’s talons, but still many by his own sword. He’d even killed an Outworlder– a Canadian.

They were his enemies. He’d been taught his whole life that they had unleashed the demons upon Ayndir out of envy.

So why, then, were there no demons there?

For the first time since he’d arrived, he questioned his mission. He fought for Embrayya. That should have been all he needed.

But there, sitting in a room with a group of Canadians, he came to a conclusion he wasn’t ready for.

They were the same.

His eyes welled up with tears as Steve was relating a story he hadn’t paid attention to, and his first instinct was to immediately leave. He quickly stood up and turned his back to the group, and began to walk swiftly toward the exit.

This was a mistake. He should not have come. He was confused. He was frightened, and for once his fear took no physical form– he could not attack it. He could not fight it, because it was inside of him. It was a part of him.

The part of himself that he had never questioned. Who he was.

“Obie?” Steve’s voice called. “Are you all right?”

He said nothing, only moved further to the exit. He walked through the door and started to descend down the stairs. As he reached the bottom, he could hear a single set of footsteps approaching the top of the stairs.

“Obie!” came a new voice. A voice he hadn’t heard. It surprised him. He looked back up the stairs to see Lauren standing there, her blonde ponytail swaying against her shoulder. He paused, and looked back at her silently.

He’d never heard her voice before. He didn’t even know she could speak.

“Stay,” she pleaded, making a sign at him.

His eyes continued to well up, and he turned away in shame. He should just go. Go and never come back. Go somewhere new.

“Please,” she pleaded.

He quickly regained his composure and looked back at her. “I can’t,” he said.

“I’m deaf,” she explained, signing as she spoke. The way she spoke was different than the others, but her voice was still clear. “I can’t hear you. But I can be an ear if you need it.”

“Why?” Auberon asked.

“Because we all need an ear sometimes,” she said. “And you… I see a lot in you. I see kindness. I see strength. I think you’ve lost a lot, more than I could ever know. But I think you just need to know you don’t have to be alone. We can help you with that. I can help you with that.”

Auberon shook his head. The girl barely knew him. Why would she be willing to help? Outworlders weren’t supposed to care about people like Auberon.

…and Auberon wasn’t supposed to care about them.

“Will you stay?”

Auberon looked toward the exit, then back up at Lauren. He wrestled with his own emotions, weighing the options carefully.

Lauren didn’t wait for his answer. Instead, she walked down the stairs and took him by the hand, then led him through the stairwell exit into the main room. It was empty, but she led him to a chair and had him sit.

Auberon offered little resistance. He sat, and Lauren pulled a chair up, then looked him in the eye once more.

“Let’s talk,” she offered.

Auberon looked back at her. “About what?”

“Whatever you want,” she said.

Auberon most certainly didn’t want to talk about his emotions. But there was something else he wanted to know.

“Why you not talking until now?” he asked. “How are you knowing my words?”

Lauren flashed him a sly smile. “I can read your lips,” she explained. “And because I can’t hear my own voice, I’m embarrassed about it.”

Auberon felt a stab of concern at hearing that word. It sounded suspiciously familiar. “Embrayyast? What is word?” It sounded a lot like the name for his own country.

She repeated the sign. “Embarrassed. Like when you fall down around people. They laugh.”

Auberon mimicked the sign, placing his hands with outstretched fingers near his face and waving them around. “Embrayyast,” he repeated.

Fitting that the name of his own country should sound suspiciously like the English word for humiliation. He chuckled to himself.

“You have good voice, Lauren,” he said. “Nice. Not be embrayyast.”

Lauren reacted with a blush, and she looked away for a moment. Eventually, she got over it.

The two of them continued to talk for a while, and she taught him a series of signs while he did his best to tell stories in his own broken English. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Steve emerged from the stairwell with the others.

Auberon immediately stood up and apologized for the way he left, but the others all reassured him they did not take offense. Instead, they said their goodbyes.

Lauren signed quietly with Steve. She wore a great smile as she did so.

“I should go,” Auberon finally said. “Thank you for having me. I come back next time.”

Steve looked over at him and smiled. “Right. Hey, listen, Obie. What are you doing this weekend?” 

Lauren seemed to react swiftly to Steve’s words, despite the fact he hadn’t signed them. She must have read his lips.

“Weekend?” he asked. He shrugged.

“There’s a deaf community barbecue over at Queen Elizabeth Park in a couple of days,” he said. “Lauren and her brother will be there. You should go?”

“Barbecue?” He’d heard the word before, but couldn’t place it.

“Yeah, you know. Like a picnic? Food. Disc golf. Games. All sorts of stuff. Maybe you should go. You might learn something from it.”

Lauren purposely looked away from both of them and attempted to make herself look busy.

Auberon wasn’t sure he understood.

But if Lauren was going to be there, maybe he would.

“Queen El–el…”

“Elizabeth,” Steve said. He raised an eyebrow. “You know, the Queen of England? You’ve heard of her, haven’t you?”

“Ah. Ah yes. Of course,” Auberon lied. “Sorry.”

“Saturday at noon,” he continued. “You should go.”

Auberon nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I go.”

For some reason, learning to speak with Lauren was easier than learning to speak english. Lauren’s language was her hands, and even if there was something he didn’t understand, she was patient enough to find other ways of saying what she was trying to communicate. Auberon appreciated that.

He also appreciated the way her wide blue eyes looked at him. How her blonde hair flowed in the light breeze. How the shape of her body–

He stopped himself from continuing the thought. Ezra’s words still rang in his head. They were from different worlds in every sense of the phrase.

Even beyond her fetching good looks, Lauren was also kind, and cared deeply for her brother and for helping others. She was… warm, and seemed to exude love.

Auberon again shook his head. Was his mind toying with him? To show him a woman that embodied the very traits he sought in a potential future wife, but who was from an entirely different world?

Auberon looked again at Lauren, who blushed and once again looked away. “I see you next time,” he said, then turned to walk away.

His mind reeled with strange thoughts as he moved toward the exit. As he approached it, he glanced briefly at a stack of newspapers sitting on top of a table near the entrance.

He paused. Something unsettled him about the face he saw looking back at him. It caused him to clear his mind entirely of what thoughts he was wrestling with up till then.

It was almost as if he knew the face. He looked closer, and felt the blood drain from his face.

He did know the face. It was Sizilen Freia.

Was it truly, however? Was it possible that Sizilen had a lookalike on Earth? Try as he might, he couldn’t begin to translate the English writing beneath her picture. It had to be her, Auberon didn’t know the girl well, but he never forgot a face.

Steve came up next to him suddenly, startling Auberon. His first instinct was to hide it, but he ignored the impulse.

Instead, he pointed to the picture. “Steve. You know this?” he asked.

Steve looked over at the newspaper and pulled the glasses that hang around his neck up to his eyes. “Oh yeah,” he said. “That’s that girl from the other world,” he said. “Siz-something. You been following that? It’s pretty wild. That stuff is going to change the world, let-me-tell-you.”

Auberon felt a stab of relief that Steve hadn’t been suspicious of his interest, but felt a jolt of dread when he’d confirmed his own suspicion. “Big, big wild,” he agreed.

“You might as well take it, Obie,” Steve offered. “I’d read it for you, but we have to clean up before tomorrow.” He patted Auberon on the back. “We’ll see you next time, eh?”

Auberon looked back over his shoulder toward Lauren. She was busy stacking chairs, but wore a calming smile on her face. He looked to Steve. “Yes to next time,” he said.

Steve shook his hand, and Auberon rolled the newspaper up and tucked it under his arm.

His mind reeled. Sizilen Freia was in Canada. Her name was known. Why? Was she acting at the behest of the King?

…or was she a traitor?

He needed to find out.