by Etzoli
Sara let me use it. She called it mine, and promised nobody would ever be able to look at it or get into it without my permission. Not even her. Even so, I never took it home. I guess I didn’t want Mom to feel guilty that she couldn’t afford to get me one.
Sara close the door behind us, then plopped down onto her chair. I took my usual spot on the bed facing her. For a moment, we were both totally silent.
I fidgeted awkwardly, glancing around, avoiding her gaze. I didn’t want to speak first. I wasn’t sure what she was going to bring up, or what she’d heard or figured out. I wanted her to make the first move, so I could be smart about what I said. Matt’s words about trust echoed through my head. That, along with my own personal experiences with betrayal, meant I was pretty reluctantly to open up to anyone. Even Sara.
Not that she was gonna let that stop her.
“You know, people talk a lot…” Sara said, very formally. Like she was about to give a speech.
“About what?” I asked innocently.
“Screw it,” she snapped. “What the hell happened after second period?”
“You’re gonna have to be more specific…” I didn’t know why I was stalling. Clearly she already knew.
“I heard you took down a varsity football player like it was nothing. Dropped him straight into a locker.”
“Oh. Yeah, I did.”
“Jen,” said Sara, her voice weirdly high-pitched. “Last I remembered, you were scared to slap a guy for being too aggressive a flirt. Now you’re beating up jocks for fun?”
“Not for fun,” I said quickly. “Definitely not for fun.”
“So, what then?” Sara sounded seriously concerned, which made me feel all the worse. “Did he do something to you?”
“No. Nothing. It was an accident.”
“That’s not an accident,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “God, Jen, what is going on ? You’ve been acting crazy for days now, and not just you. Matt’s suddenly super confident and outgoing, which is great and all but still— bizarre. And now that guy Carl, the one you’re suddenly super buddy-buddy with even though I’ve literally never heard of him before?”
I nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. What did Carl do? Oh man…
“Well, Carl—a guy so quiet and out of the way that I never knew he was even in my class—suddenly chews out the teacher in the middle of APUSH. Goes on and on about some really awful things.” Sara shook her head in exasperation. “Jen, something’s going on with you three. It’s obvious. So… tell me?”
“I can’t,” I murmured, as my eyes darted away. I couldn’t look at her when I said it.
Sara got up and knelt down in front of me. Her hands grasped mine tight, holding on desperately.
“Jen, please. You’re my best friend. I just want to help. Tell me what’s going on.” Her eyes were sparkling. She looked like she might cry. All I had to do to stop her was talk.
Oh, stars, did I want to. I wanted her to know everything, without me having to actually tell her. To skip right past all that mess and go straight back to being best friends again.
And why not? came the little voice in my head. It’s Sara. If there was a single person in the whole world besides Matt who could know my secrets, it’d be her.
I could feel my entire body sharpen to a single point, as if I were about to take off into a sprint. It felt like the entire world was quivering as I turned back to face her. There was enough anticipation in the air to stop time itself.
“I went to another world.”
Sara’s eyes blinked. They blinked again.
I didn’t say another word. I just watched. Waited.
Would she think I was crazy? Would she believe me?
Did I want her to think I was crazy? Maybe I wanted to be crazy. To have imagined this whole insanity.
I couldn’t say for sure. All I knew was that I wanted my best friend on my side again, with me through thick and thin, us two against the whole universe.
“…Run that by me again,” she said finally. I couldn’t tell if she was sarcastic or serious. Her face looked serious. Kinda skeptical, but definitely not annoyed or amused. I decided I’d just go with it. I trusted her.
“On Tuesday night. We—err, me, Matt and Carl—we were all… taken. To another… vack , I can’t think of the word.”
“Planet?” Sara guessed. “Dimension?”
“Dimension, yeah.” I nodded. “A place called Cyraveil.”
“Like the forest?” Sara sounded dubious again. She sat back on the floor, leaning against her desk. Her water bottle was nearby, like it always was, and she took a deep sip, still watching me carefully.
“That’s where it happened,” I replied, nodding again. “We went out to the forest that night. The four of us found a—”
“Wait, four of you?” Sara interrupted. I gulped audibly before I could stop myself. “…Jen?”
I couldn’t leave him out, but I definitely couldn’t talk about it yet. Someday , I promised her in my head. I’ll tell you, I swear. “I’m sorry. Do you know Blake Svartholm?”
“Nope.”
“He’s a friend of Matt’s and Carl’s. Nice guy. Kind of goofy, but really nice.”
“And he went with you too,” she concluded.
“…Yeah.”
“So where’s he hiding then? I feel like I’d have to run into him by now with how crazy this is.”
I looke down at my feet, concentrating very determinedly on my toes while a rushing wind filled my ears. “He didn’t make it back,” I mumbled. Against my will, against every nerve in my body shouting at me to avoid the drama and keep calm—my eyes welled up.
“Oh… oh God.”
Sara was on her feet and next to me in an instant. Even in my current state, even in this place, damn it all, I still felt an instinct to recoil away from the sudden physical presence, but I suppressed it. I don’t know how I managed it, but I am forever grateful to whichever star decided to grant me the mental fortitude in that moment—to just let Sara take care of me for a minute.
She put an arm around my shoulders, and my head instinctively found a spot on her shoulder, where the tears flowed free. For the first time since I’d returned—for the first time in a very, very long while before that too, someone else actually saw me crying.
Was it talking about Blake? Nah, as heartbreaking as that was.
It was simpler than that. Sara—no matter what she might be thinking right now—had seen my expression, and without a second thought, she’d leapt up to try and comfort me.
Do you know what it’s like to have a friend like that? Somebody who’s instantly on your side, no matter the circumstances? I missed her more than anything while I was gone. More than showers or normal clothes, more than microwaves or chocolate cake or anything: I’d missed my best friend.
I sat up again, brushing at my eyes. Sara found a tissue box and handed me one.
“ Vannen ,” I choked out.
“No sweat,” she said, smiling. “I’m guessing that meant ‘thanks’.”
“Top of the class.”
“So you can speak another language now?”
I nodded. “Etoline. The language of the Sylvandar.”
“Sounds super high fantasy.”
“Okay, yeah, they were basically elves. I mean, there’s a lot more to it than that, but yeah, elves.”
Sara raised an eyebrow. “Elves?”
“Well, Sylves. Calling them elves was kind of racist. Sara, it was a full-on fantasy world. Sylves and dwarves and everything. No daphut , I met a dragon once.”
“…How the hell do you meet a dragon?”
“Very, very carefully.” I laughed. “They’re actually not all that bad. That one wasn’t, anyway. I dunno about the rest, they all died out a long time ago.”
“Hang on.” Sara cocked her head to the side. “You said you left Tuesday night. How long—”
“Seven years.”
Sara’s mouth seemed to stick open in mid-sen
tence. It took her a while to recover, while I just stared at the pile of stuffed animals in a basket in the corner. “…Seven years?” she whispered, incredulous.
“I think so. Likav silan .”
“You don’t look twenty-three,” she said, sounding skeptical again.
“I definitely feel twenty-three,” I grumbled. “Getting shoved back into my sixteen-year-old body really, really sucks, believe me. One silanev not exactly the same as a year though, so it might be off a little. Plus, when I got there, I didn’t really have any way to keep track of time. I don’t really have a clue how long I was lost in the country before Tethevallen found me.”
“So you came back and no time passed. Very Narnia. You’re mixing up your fantasy worlds here.” She laughed.
“Don’t make fun,” I said defensively. “I’m trying to be serious here.”
“I know,” she said, shifting back to thoughtful and relaxed. “It’s just… a lot, you know? I’m catching up here.”
“…You believe me, right?” I said, very nervous. I didn’t know what I’d do if she said no. I don’t think I could have gone on living if she didn’t believe me. But… Sara wasn’t the type to take people at their word. She always wanted proof. It was a family thing, right in her blood. I couldn’t predict how she’d react to all of this, when it was so… outlandish.
“It’s like this,” Sara said, very deliberately. “Either you’ve suddenly grown a hell of an imagination overnight—”
“ Vack dou. ”
“—and you’re lying to me, which you never do. Or you’re batshit crazy, which is pretty reasonable, but you don’t really seem like it. Mostly.” She shrugged. “So, I’m pretty much down to believing you.” She tossed her hair back out of her face, before looking me eye-to-eye. “Sound good?”
I could have kissed her. “Thank you,” I said, while a warm glow spread out through every vein in my body.
“Right,” Sara said excitedly. “Now: explain how a girl who basically failed French class two years in a row is suddenly the master of another language.”
I shrugged. “I lived with the Sylves for years. None of them spoke a single word of English. Between that and a bit of magic, I learned Etoline pretty quick. Kinda had to.”
“…Magic?” Sara’s eyes sparkled. Now she was really interested.
So was I. I got to explain my whole world to her, to my dearest friend. I always liked to tell stories, even if I wasn’t very good at coming up with them. Suddenly, I had a great, true story to tell, and the perfect person to tell it to.
“Magic. Etola. ”
“Details. Right now.” Sara spoke so fiercely, I was taken aback. But I felt it, just as eager as she was. The desire, the longing for a real fantasy. One I’d actually gotten to live .
“If you… ugh.” I frowned. “I can’t word it right in this language.”
Sara looked sympathetic. “Did you really forget English?”
“I didn’t forget ,” I said, a bit indignant, “but I went without for so long… I only started speaking English again about a year ago. When I started—” I paused, searching for the right word. “—interpreting. For the treaties.”
“…’Interpreting for the treaties’,” Sara repeated incredulously. “Okay, this isn’t fair, you just gave me like fifty more questions to ask.”
“Well, I was the only person they had that spoke English at all. I was the first member of a suunsyl to ever negotiate with humans. They even made up a special title to mark it.”
“Okay, now you’re just bragging.”
“Yup,” I laughed. “No joke, they named the position after me. The ambassador to humans is called the Sylajen . Even the sesylf who took over after me, she’s the new sylajen .”
Sara grinned. “So you got immortalized. Way to go. At least this explains your weird accent.”
I suddenly felt very self-conscious. “Is it really weird?”
“Nah. Okay, yes, it is, but not bad- weird.” Sara tried to give me a comforting smile. “I like it. Don’t lose it.”
“ Selnou. ” I stopped trying to correct for it after that, to my throat’s relief.
“Wait, aren’t elves—err, Sylves—immortal?”
I sighed. I figured this was coming, as much as I hated thinking about it. “Nah, but everybody assumes that. They do live hundreds of years though, thanks to etola. ”
Sara was too sharp not to pick up on the possibilities. “So if it’s the magic, and you were living with them and had access to it… were you gonna live that long too?”
I hesitated. “…Probably,” I said quietly. “Every time I did the ritual, I felt it. You know, healing me.”
“But, when you tried it yesterday…” Sara trailed off, connecting the dots in her head. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m so sorry, Jen,” she murmured.
“S’okay.” Truth be told, I didn’t really know how I felt about it yet. It had taken a long time to adjust to the idea of living more than a hundred years past normal, if not even longer, and staying young and healthy that whole time. To have that suddenly snatched away was pretty unsettling. Plus, I had to take care of myself way more carefully now.
I really hated having to brush my teeth in the morning again, or watching what I eat, or dealing with the monthly visit. Don’t even get me started on the rest. Sometimes, being human really sucks.
“Wait, so you could do magic, then? Etola , I mean?” Sara’s eager tone was back.
As she spoke though, her cat peeked out from the closet, where he’d been lounging on a pile of clothes tucked inside. It was his customary spot, and the only thing Sara ever left on the floor. Her room was totally spotless otherwise. He sauntered over and leapt up to the bed, where he promptly found his way right into my lap. I smiled, petting him, and was rewarded with a satisfied purr. He was napping again in moment.
“Nuh-uh,” Sara warned, “he’s not letting you off the hook.”
“I could,” I said casually. “A bit, anyway.”
“Oh, a bit. Right.”
I grinned. “Okay, so I was pretty good. Tethevallen said I mastered a lot faster than anyone he’d ever taught, and even better than some of the legit masters. In some etolev , they called me the best in the entire forest.”
“And so humble ,” she teased.
I laughed. “They think it’s ‘cause I’m human. I dunno. They could last way longer than me any day tossing out etolev . I got burned out way faster than they did.” Her cat shifted in my lap, prompting me to keep petting.
“So what were you so good at?”
I frowned, glancing down at the cat. “What’s his name again?”
“Qwery. Dad named him. Pretty lame to name a cat after the keyboard but whatever.” I could tell I was supposed to know that already, but Sara explained it as nicely as she could. It didn’t sound irritated at all. She just looked concerned again. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. When I continued, I felt a bit more subdued. “I was the best at fire. It was fun, tossing it around, splitting it up and combining it, changing colors, making fireworks and explosions and stuff. Once I studied and practiced and meditated enough, I was really able to get into the etolendei of fire. I could even make it from nothing. They thought that was impossible.”
“ Etolendei? ” Sara asked. I winced deliberately at her pronunciation, although it really was pretty bad. She picked up a stress ball from her desk and threw it at me. I dodged it, grinning. “But seriously.”
“Really hard to describe,” I said honestly. “It’s like… the true knowledge of something, I guess? Until you really know something, you can’t do anything to it or with it.”
“Huh,” Sara said, her eyes coolly analytical, just like whenever she was working through some programming problem. Of course, cold analysis wasn’t really helpful for magic , so after a few moment, she was back again, looking frustrated. “I was hoping for something more concrete.”
“Sorry. I ca
n’t really explain it well in English.”
“Damn elves,” Sara intoned. I grabbed the ball and chucked it back at her, nailing her in the chest. “Ouch.”
“Did that really hurt?” I asked, worried. I hadn’t paid much attention to how hard I’d thrown it.
“No,” she said, realizing how serious I was. She squeezed the ball for a minute, thinking. “…I can’t help but feel like there’s a dark side coming here.”
I looked away again. “Yeah,” I said, talking to the wall.
“Look,” she said. I looked. Her eyes seemed so friendly and warm. I hadn’t seen eyes like that since I left Naeflin on the field outside Candir, covered in blood, but still ready to give me a hug and tell me everything was gonna be all right. “If you don’t want to say—”
“I do.” I had to. It was the only way I was ever gonna get past the gnawing feeling in my heart. “There’s a reason they were so happy about my skills with fire.”
“…And I’m betting it also has to do with those treaties you were helping translate,” she filled in. Her voice got thin and nervous. “There was a war, wasn’t there?”
I nodded.
“And you fought in it?”
I nodded again.
Sara didn’t speak. Her eyes studied me carefully. The silence stretched out, more awkward with every moment.
What would she think of me? I couldn’t say. Even as my best friend, with the things I’d done? I did what I had to do to survive, right? That’s what I told myself every night before I went to bed, every time the memories came back to take over my mind for a bit.
Not that I actually got to sleep. A full night’s sleep was something for normal people. I wasn’t normal, and I sure as hell never got a full night’s worth. Naps scattered throughout the day, that was my life now. Even that fifteen hour stretch the day before was full of panicked moments where I woke up, white-knuckled, ready to slash at an opportunistic cell-mate that wasn’t actually there. Sleep wasn’t relaxing for me, it was a terrifying state where I was at my most vulnerable.