The Elven Heritage LegacyChapter 14:

Senioritis

“In conclusion, since the energy output of the so called Aurora Storms is inconsistent with the expected Clarks-Mulligan ion distribution, and Aurora Storms are unknown prior to approximately seven years ago, and the data from the last Aurora Storm matches Spitzger’s Tachon data to a confidence level of ninety seven percent, it is clear that the Aurora Storms are not a natural phenomenon.”

The researcher stopped, drew the deepest breath she’d taken in the last half hour, and then looked at the panel.

“Any questions?”

The professors looked at one another.“Yes,” said the old man in the brown turtleneck, “You insinuated that the

Spitzger Tachon project provided evidence for the existence of other realities, some would say parallel universes. I would like to know how you came to that conclusion?”

“I didn’t, Kleinberger did in his analysis of the first twenty years of data. I mentioned it because the Tachon curve no longer matches his projection for a stable non-interference state.”

The professor gave a very small, very nasty smile. “Oh yes, Kleinberger,” he said, “could you please name a corroborating source?”

The researcher paused. “Hertz,” she said, “and Weiburg’s paper on the potential number of identically configured Hubble volumes within and outside of our cosmic horizon does not preclude the possibility of similar, nonparallel universes.”

There was a dignified, academic rustling, almost like the sound of a thesis advisor facepalming behind their binder.

“I told her not to go into the Weiburg,” she muttered, loud enough to be heard by the next person down the table… and incidentally, the thesis presenter.

“Weiburg also wrote that identically configured volumes which came into contact would absorb each other, but that due to universal expansion and the volumes in between them, they would never touch,” said the first professor.

“I believe I’ve already covered that, Professor Heller,” the researcher said. “I have interviewed a large number of people, some on our own campus, who attest to having traveled through a gap, or gate, in an intercosmic membrane.”

At the words intercosmic membrane, a few members of the Thesis committee perked up, but the head of the physics department scoffed.

“Eyewitness testimony is not accepted in the hard sciences, miss…” he looked at his copy of the impressively sized thesis, where the name of the researcher, though typed, appeared to be a thick black scribble.

“Yet these persons are legally recognized as immigrants, and have filed for special heritage considerations at our own college, and been accepted,” the presenter said. “No records show them traveling here, and there is no mention of Elves before approximately twenty five years ago.”

“Absence of evidence,” said the head of department, “Is not evidence of absence. The origins of a small ethnic group is also not pertinent to the defense of a Meteorology thesis. Neither is multiverse theory.”

Yet you all agreed to be here anyway, the researcher thought, looking at the assorted professors at the table. Aside from her advisor and the head of the meteorology department, there was Professor Heller from astrophyiscs, and one ethnic studies professor, who looked rather like a seal that had just realized it was swimming with sharks.

“With all due respect, professor, whether or not you personally ascribe to many world quantum interpretation isn’t relevant to my defense either.”

There was pin-drop silence for a moment, before the head of the meteorology department spoke up. “As I understand it, some of your equipment was damaged in the last Aurora Storm,” he said, “Including a device meant to measure the ionic charge in the sky, which exploded, taking out a portion of your wall, and another device intended to measure electrical discharge, which sustained earthquake damage. In your estimation, how reliable is your data during this event?”

“Maybe… eighty two percent?” the researcher replied hopefully, “The data is consistent and the recording device was undamaged.”

“But you admit that with a sample size of one, your data is inevitably skewed?” said the first physics professor, attacking uncertainty like a shark that smelled blood.

“I’ve also studied many related phenomenons with my equipment,” the researcher said, “Further studies are necessary, but my stance remains that the Aurora storm is qualitatively unlike any other meteorological phenomenon that we experience.”

There was a round of looks shared between the members of the thesis panel. Several of them actually managed to hide their amusement or skeptical eyebrows. The rest didn’t bother.

“I believe that is all we need to hear,” said the head of the Meteorology department.

* * *

“So, first house meeting of the new school year!” Aranel announced to her very unimpressed housemates. “The good news is: we’re a major campus presence, considering that there are five of us. The bad news is, half of the people Rean and I know on campus are going to graduate this year. So that means you ex-freshmen need to step up in the friend-making and public relations departments.”

Achenar groaned. “Sure, I’ll get right on that as soon as I don’t have seven thousand physics problem sets and a comp sci assignment.”

“Great! Glad you stepped up,” said Aranel. “Also, since you’re going to be my successor as House President when I graduate, and therefore need to be on the House Board sooner rather than later, I nominate you as Public Relations chairperson.”

“Wait, what…?”Elirand spoke up. “Ara, I’m pretty sure that’s nepotism…”Aranel considered it for a moment. “Nah, he’s my brother, not my nephew,

so I think we’re good.”“Why did we make her president again?” Elirand asked Rean, who shrugged.

“We didn’t make her president, she declared herself president,” Calla put in, looking mutinous, “We’ve never had an election at all.”

“Calla, you are welcome to run against me,” Aranel replied sweetly, “But I’m pretty sure your teaching methods portfolio is going to keep you very busy this semester. I do pretty much everything involved in running the house and the heritage association – willingly, I’ll admit – and all I’m asking is that you guys get out more and schmooze with people from campus. How hard can it be?”

* * *

“This is ridiculous,” Calla said as the three of them made a second lap around the quad. “I know she’s your sister and all, Achenar, but I am reallysick of her dragging us into all her schemes.”

Achenar shrugged. “I guess it gives me an excuse to do something other than problem sets.”

“I happen to like the other things I could be doing on a Saturday afternoon,” Calla continued, “I know she’s not asking us to do anything she wouldn’t do herself, but some people have majors that are simply more work than political science is.”

“Hey, if you don’t take time off of studying, you’ll just be miserable forever, Calla,” Elirand replied. “You used to like meeting people, remember?”

“I still like meeting people,” Calla protested, “I just don’t think the middle of the quad on a windy afternoon is the best place to do it.”

“Anyplace is a good place,” Elirand pointed out. “And you’ve got to do it now - if you take everything this seriously while we’re still underclassmen, you’ll miss out on all the fun of college!”

“It’s a good thing he thinks it’s fun,” Achenar said, sotto voce, to a visibly irritated Calla, “Because he’s going to be in med school for the next decade.”

Calla laughed. “Well, there is that.”“Exactly,” said Elirand, who had heard it all, “I’m trying to enjoy myself

now, because as long as my grades are good enough to get into med school, there’s no point in stressing any more about them.”

“Some of us,” Calla said dryly, “find it a little harder to dismiss our worldly concerns at the drop of a hat.”

Achenar silently agreed. Still, Elirand had a point: it was only sophomore year and people were already talking to them about the rigors of Thesis.

“Why don’t we all go do something fun together?” he said to the twins. “Tonight – we’ve still got Sunday to do all our homework.”

Elirand nodded enthusiastically, but then his face fell. “I can’t,” he said, “I’ve got a date.”

“Heather again?”“No, Blossom Moonbeam,” Elirand said, then caught Calla’s skeptical

eyebrow. “Hey, it’s not like that, I swear. I have never been anything but up front with anyone I’ve dated – a grand total of four people I’ll have you know – and Heather and I are more friends with benefits anyway.”

“So I guess that leaves us to go someplace,” Calla said, turning to Achenarwith an expression that said exactly what she thought of Elirand cutting a romantic swath through campus.

Achenar, who was trying not to have an opinion about it, tried to think of a suitable destination. “Well, there is a concert tonight…” he said, remembering that there had been a flyer helpfully stuck on one of the quad bulletins for it.

“All right, we’ll go to that,” Calla replied.

“Not to change the subject,” Elirand said, “But I see one of those Llama jacket people at ten o’clock, and Aranel specifically told us to figure out what was up with them…”

* * *

Due to a combination of Algebra two, a stuck locker, and an emergency pit stop in the girls’ bathroom, Lydia was late for the first Drama Club meeting of the year, which meant that she walked in on the tail end of gossip about their new director.

“All I know,” Lani was saying to Ana, Daniel and Lizette as Lydia walked in, “Is that her name is Miss Menke and she’s only a few years out of college.”

Daniel groaned, and Lydia sympathized. Brand new teachers could go one of two ways: either they turned out to be actually pretty cool and treated their students like competent human beings, or they wanted to be the “cool teacher” and ended up just being terrible.

“I hear she hasn’t even picked the list of plays for the year yet,” said Lee, passing by. From the expressions on everyone’s faces, nobody was encouraged by that news.

“It can’t be that hard,” Lydia said to the group, “I mean, we’re looking at free plays here, all she has to do is decide which Shakespeare we’re doing and select one other play written before nineteen hundred…”

Lizzette snorted. “Yeah, what do you want to bet she makes us do something ridiculous and the same ten people are the only ones who ever get a role?”

At that moment, the doors to the auditorium opened, and in walked a woman who could only be Miss Menke. The first thing that Lydia noticed was her hair, a few shades lighter than Ana’s ‘tomato soup’ color, but probably not natural like Ana’s.

Miss Menke stood up on stage and introduced herself.“All right, folks,” she said, and Lydia cringed a bit where she stood, which

made Daniel laugh and Ana shoot her a look of sympathy, “I’m sure you’re all anxious to find out what we’re going to be doing this year.”

Well, you got that right, Lydia thought.

“I know my way of doing things is going to be different from your last director,” said Miss Menke, “It might take some getting used to, but I think we’ll all learn something from it. I know that theater is, at it’s heart, a place of odd traditions and strong opinions, and I intend to embrace that. At the same time, I urge you not to become complacent: I pick my casting on skill alone, and I’m not content to simply tell you what to do and hope that it teaches you how to act – with me as your director, you will have to think about your roles, and understand the people that you are portraying.”

Lydia could feel her left eyebrow doing it’s best Vulcan impression.

“The fact that we haven’t had tryouts yet is probably worrying to some of you,” Miss Menke went on, “This will mean that we need to work faster and harder on our first play of the year than if I’d already chosen parts and handed out the script. At the same time, it would not be fair of me to chose a play before I knew more about the people who want to be in it – if we only had ten actors in the club, it would be fair to have a five person play for our winter performance, but at thirty, that’s a little restrictive when we only have two plays a year. So, raise your hands if you prefer to be on a stage.”

Lydia raised her hand, along with a little under half the club. “Who here likes both acting and behind the scenes roles?”Twelve people, including a few who had previously raised their hands, put

their hands up and were counted.“Who here thinks the crew rocks?”More people than were technically on the crew at any given point raised

their hands. It did not do to tick off the people who were in charge of your costume, props, or sound, after all.

“All right, thank you,” said Miss Menke, “based on how many actors and actresses we have, I can now start to make decisions about the plays that we’ll be able to preform this year. If they go well, we might be able to squeeze three plays into next year, but I’m afraid that we aren’t prepared for that just yet. In the meantime, I want you to pick monologues – any work you’re familiar with will do – for tryouts next week, which will consist of your prepared monologue, and a couple of monologues that I will give you to read on the spot.”

“What the actual fuck,” Lydia said in an undertone to Ana and Lani as the club officers for the year went up onstage to introduce themselves and talk about Homecoming, “Cold reads?”

Lani nodded, “I just hope that she’s true to her word and picks plays with enough roles,” she said, “I’m sick of being the fifth girl cast in a Shakespeare play and ending up one of the servants at best. Remember how Ellen was the only girl cast in The Tempest, and how Mr. Hallow said ‘I’m sorry, but The Tempest only has one female role’?”

Lydia rolled her eyes in sympathetic memory, though The Tempest had been a year before she’d joined the club. Still, she’d been told more than once by Mr. Hallow that to “remain true” to the spirit of the characters, she needed to make her Portia more ladylike. And everyone always complained about the plays Mr. Hallow picked, but even pointing out to him that it had once been traditional for women to dress as boys and play characters like Peter Pan had never improved matters.

He’d always replied that in Shakespeare’s day, women weren’t even allowed on stage and that the fact that young boys had to dress in women’s clothing to play them was the reason there were so few women’s roles in Shakespeare, as if the historical context were more important than the fact that the club was nearly two thirds female and competition for any “female role” was fierce.

Lydia just hoped that Miss Menke was less obnoxiously traditionalist.* * *

“… So of course she called me at six o’clock in the morning and had me walk a pair of sunglasses across campus so she could drag her hung-over self back to the dorm,” Rean finished. “So yeah, I have to say that Aranel still owes me a couple of favors from freshman year.”

Amadeus just smiled at him over the breadsticks. “It must be nice to have had a best friend for so long,” he said, “Like having a sister, almost.”

Rean’s smile vanished from his face. “I hadn’t thought of it like that,” he said, “but really, Aranel is more my sister than either of my sisters ever were. And her parents practically adopted me…”

“You never told me you had sisters,” Amadeus said.“Well, I don’t – not according to them anyway,” Rean said bitterly. “Nymea

and I have never gotten along, and after my parents threw me out at the end of senior year I’ve never heard from Idalese again.”

Amadeus was silent.“I know that she probably couldn’t do anything the year after I left – she

was still living in my parents’ house – but she never showed up at college last year, never wrote…”

Rean sighed. “I have a baby brother too – my parents probably didn’t even know my mom was pregnant when they threw me out – and I’m never going to meet him. I’m never going to get the chance to be the brother I should have been, to him or to Idalese. So really, I’ve been a terrible brother to everyone but Aranel.”

There was more science on the other side of the table.“Wow, that was gloomy,” Rean said, “sorry, this was supposed to be a fun

date…”Amadeus just shrugged.

“I don’t have much of a family either,” he admitted, “my grandparents raised me, but my granddad died when I was twelve. So for the last eight years, it was just me, Gran, and my violin. When I was a kid I would have given anything to have a brother or a sister, to not be alone all the time.” He smiled for a moment. “But I’ve never doubted that my Gran loves me, you know?”

“Even though you like guys?” Rean asked.

“She’s known that since I was fourteen,” Amadeus said with a small laugh. “She ditched a bunch of pamphlets about safe sex on my bed and mortified me half to death. So when I tried to tell her that I didn’t really think of girls that way – she went out found some pamphlets specifically for gay couples.”

Rean snorted. “Looking back, she probably knew before then,” Amadeus said thoughtfully,

“I had this massive poster of Freddie Mercury…”“Your grandma sounds pretty awesome,” Rean said. “She’s the one who got me and Grandpa through the Elipsis,” Amadeus

replied.

“Obviously, I don’t remember it, because I was like fifteen months old, but there was a war going on at the time - on the other side, you know – and Gran just packed up one day and told my Grandfather that she wasn’t going to raise her only grandchild in the middle of the war that had taken her daughter from her. So Grandpa sold the inn and they stepped through that gate… and here I am now.” Amadeus shrugged.

“I was born over there too,” said Rean, “I don’t know much about it though – my parents only ever talked about our ‘noble lineage’ or the ‘family honor.’ I have no idea why they came here in the first place: they hate it.”

There were a few moments of silence. “How did we end up talking about families, anyway?”

“I think the question was ‘what’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve done for a friend?’” Amadeus said. “Which makes it your turn, actually.”

Rean thought for a moment. “Okay, what’s the most trouble you’ve ever been in in your whole life?”

“Well, there was the time that I made a bet – this was middle school – that I could chug an entire pitcher of Kool-aid…

* * *

At exactly four years old, one of the most fascinating things in Ariadne’sworld was fireflies. They should be hot, like birthday candles or lightbulbs, or all the other things which made light but were too dangerous for little girls to touch. But they weren’t – they were cool, crawly things that squished if you held on too hard. They lived in the grass and flew in the air, and sometimes her daddy forgot and called them candlebugs.

You had to let them go when you caught them, though, her mommy said –they were candlebearers for the souls of the dead, and if you caught to many, the ghosts would have no light and loose their way.

The daycare lady had told Ariadne that it wasn’t true when she asked, and that her mommy was just superstitious. The daycare lady also said that fireflies didn’t come out or light up in the daytime and didn’t swarm around people, though, so she probably didn’t know what she was talking about. Ariadneknew that fireflies did that, because she’d seen it herself.

Fireflies were also much harder to catch during the day, and no one seemed to know why. Ariadne had been getting better at catching night time fireflies all summer so that she could catch one of the daytime ones and figure out why it was acting so differently.

Ariadne grabbed for a firefly just out of reach, and then she looked up and saw the wolf.

She knew it was a wolf it looked just like the wolf in the big animal alphabet book: W was for wolf, walrus, wombat and wallaby. The wolf in the book was dark grey and this one was white, but other than that they looked the same.

For a long moment, Ariadne didn’t do anything, not wanting to scare it away. Then, it turned and headed behind one of the trees, and she went tearing back over the bridge to tell her mother.

“Mommy! Mommy! There was a wolf in the woods!”

Viridia looked up when Ariadne came stumbling to a halt. “A wolf?” she asked, sharing a smile with Haldir, “there aren’t any wolves around here, sweetie. Are you sure it wasn’t just a very big dog?”

Ariadne didn’t understand why her mother didn’t believe her. She wasn’t lying!

“Nuh-uh! It was a wolf,” she said stubbornly, “It was big an’ it didn’t have a collar an’ it was white, and I saw it-”

“Where did you see it?” Haldir asked, and Ariadne turned and pointed directly at the edge of the woods where the wolf had been.

Haldir stared out into the gathering dark for a long minute. “I don’t see it, Ariadne,” he said.

“But it was there!” Ariadne said, getting a little desperate. Her daddy always believed her.

“Tell you what, we’ll go have a look,” he said, picking her up.“Haldir -” said Viridia warningly.“We’ll be perfectly safe,” Haldir told her before heading across the bridge.

At the edge of the woods, however, there was nothing, not even the fireflies.

“Maybe it ran away,” Haldir said after a few moments of looking and seeing nothing but the dark and hearing the splash of fish in the stream.

Disappointed, Ariadne nodded, then saw a gleam of white fur at the edge of her vision. “Daddy! Daddy, look,” she whispered excitedly, pointing towards the wolf slinking away through the trees. She was right, it was a wolf, and it was headed deep into the woods again.

Haldir turned to look where Ariadne was pointing.“Look at what, Ari?” he asked. “I don’t see anything.”“The wolf,” Ariadne said insistently, “Look! It’s right there!”

Haldir sighed. “Ariadne, honey, are you sure you saw a wolf? I don’t see anything there.”

“It’s right there, under the trees!” Ariadne was no longer using what her mommy called her ‘indoor voice.’

“Oh, is it a pretend wolf?” Haldir said, smiling at her as he carried her back to the bridge. “Tell me more about the pretend wolf, then. Remember, my eyes are getting old.”

“No!” Ariadne shouted, “It’s not pretend!”

“That’s the past-bedtime wail,” Viridia said as they crossed the bridge. “Time to go in and get into our pajamas, Ariadne.”

“No! I don’t want to!” Ariadne yelled, “I want to see the wolf!” Why didn’t they believe her? Why couldn’t they see the wolf too?

Viridia’s voice became stern. “I’m not giving you a choice, missy. Don’t you remember that big girls don’t throw fits about going to bed on time?”

Ariadne didn’t feel like being a big girl at the moment, but remembering her manners usually worked on her mommy.

“Pleeeeeease?” she said, “I’m not tired yet.”

“Well, I am,” Haldir said, “It’s almost nine! And you don’t want me falling asleep in the middle of your bedtime story, do you?”

Ariadne shook her head. Her daddy was already carrying her inside. “Then you’d better put on your pajamas quick, and let your mommy brush

your teeth,” Haldir said, “Or I’ll fall right asleep and you won’t get a story.”“I want a story!” Ariadne reminded him loudly.“Haldir, don’t get her worked up,” Viridia chided him.Ariadne glanced over her shoulder just before the door closed, and she

couldn’t see the wolf anywhere.* * *

Cast of Hamlet• Hamlet - Lydia Fairmaiden

• Claudius – Simon Baarle

• Gertrude – Naomi Laker

• Polonius – Tyler Rushie

• Horatio – Lani Kapur

• Laertes - Amanda Kenning

• Ophelia – Lee Sorenson

• Fortinbras - Daniel Coombe

• The Ghost - Chris Boone

• Rosencrantz – Daneila Fitz

• Guildenstern - Hannah Clarke

• Marcellus (Guard) - Jonas Simms

• Bernardo (Guard) - Brigit Roven

• Francisco (Guard) - Adam Close

You suck, Chris.

“And then, if you’ll believe it, Professor Hertz started humming the Star Trek theme song…”

Calla giggled. “Makes sense, star trek has been around forever and so has Professor Hertz,” she said. “The fact that she gave you an entire problem set based on calculating the color shift of stars as the Enterprise warps towards or away from them is probably the best physics story you’ve had this quarter.”

“Physics does seem to bring out the interesting professors…”“Unlike Education, which seems to bring out the paperwork,” Calla

finished for him, shaking her head in aggravation.

“It’s not too late to switch into Bio, though,” Achenar reminded her, “You’ve already done enough of the intro classes during your required lab science credits, and you did chem one to get your certification as a science teacher. You really don’t have to stick with Education if you don’t want to.”

Calla just shook her head. “Look, I know I decided to go into Education during our last two years of high school – I haven’t known what I wanted to do forever like you – but I really do think that this is what I’m supposed to be doing, you know? I want to make a difference, I want to give kids the sort of education they deserve, inspire them to do something great with their lives…”

Achenar nodded. “But that’s not what the classes you’re taking this semester are about.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Calla said, “I mean, I know that teachers do a lot of very different things, but somehow I’m not certain that learning how to create meeting agendas is going to help me teach kids to read, or do math, or make potato clocks.”

Achenar shrugged. “Do you really need a lot of help to learn how to teach kids to make a potato clock, though? When we were kids we figured it out on our own with a library book.”

“We? You mean I figured it out, you wanted to make a potato rocket and convinced Elirand that we could shoot it to the moon.” Calla tried to sound stern, but failed, due to the twitching of her lip.

“Guilty as charged,” Achenar said easily. “See, you already know how to do this.”

Calla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but you’re a physicist and Elirand, much as he’s an idiot, is also pretty smart. I just had to boss the two of you around to get you going, it’s not like you didn’t understand the concept.”

“Well, potato clocks aren’t exactly rocket science…”

Calla gave Achenar a look.“I cannot believe I have put up with your puns for the past fourteen years,”

she said.“Nineteeen,” Achenar corrected. Calla frowned. “No, I distinctly remember

being introduced to you when we were five and ready for elementary school,” she said.

“But our parents had known each other for ages, we only lived a few blocks away…” Achenar said with a frown.

“No, I think early on we lived… somewhere else,” Calla said. “Not so close, maybe?”

“No, I remember you moving into your new house when we were like seven –”

“We weren’t seven, Aranel was a teenager and she’s only like eighteen months older than you –”

“But we had to be, Ana was really little -”Calla shook her head at Achenar. “I’m telling you, we were older. Like

middle school age. But that’s besides the point, there was a house before the old house, and that is the one that was farther away.”

Achenar thought about it for a moment. “Okay, that makes sense,” he said. “Crazy how much our memories change as we get older, though.”

Calla snorted. “Maybe your memories.”“Yes, because clearly physics is just rotting my brain,” Achenar replied

sarcastically, and she laughed.“Okay, point taken. But we were talking about future plans before I started

whining about the boringness that is Teaching Communication.”“We were?” Achenar asked innocently, before breaking into a shit-eating

grin. Calla groaned.

“Okay, okay, I apologize for insulting your memory and therefore your great big juicy brain, can we get back to the regular conversation now?”

“Fine, fine,” Achenar said, grinning, “I just don’t know what more to say, other than that I’m going to finish Physics and hopefully work SNASA.”

“Right, but what about everything else? You can’t just work.”“You know I’d be interested in moving back home to do the legacy thing,

except I’m pretty sure Aranel has that covered. She’d be better at it anyway.”

“And I keep telling you that if you really want it, go for it,” Calla replied, “make Aranel fight for something for once. You don’t even know if she wantsto do it, you’re just assuming that she does.”

“Calla, we’re talking about the girl who has been talking about becoming Mayor since she was nine. Why wouldn’t she want to be the legacy heir?”

Calla shrugged. “Just talk to her about it before you count yourself out, is all.”

“Fine. There’s a slim possibility that I’ll be the legacy heir.”

“And?” Calla prompted. “Come on, there’s got to be more.”Achenar shrugged. “Well, just standard kinds of things,” he said. “I always

figured I’d get married eventually –”Calla nodded, “Same.”“I mean, someday I’d like kids.” Achenar shrugged.“Yeah, three of them,” Calla replied.

Achenar frowned. “Okay, how did you guess that?”“Guess?” Calla replied, “Three’s how many I want.”“That’s weird,” Achenar said, “because that’s the number I keep imagining

when I think about the kind of family I might have someday.”There was a moment of silence while both of them pondered it. Calla

looked away from Achenar first.

“It’s not that weird,” she said, “lots of people have three kids.”

* * *

“Hello, Fairmaiden household,” Eluisa said into the telephone.“Is this Miss Eluisa Fairmaiden speaking?” a voice she didn’t recognize

asked. “This is she.”“Miss Fairmaiden, this is the county records office,” the voice continued.

“Are you aware that you do not have a birth certificate or other proof of citizenship on file with the county?”

Eluisa frowned. As far as she had known, she and the other Elvenimmigrants had been granted papers of citizenship over twenty years ago. There was, after all, nowhere to deport them to.

“No, I was not aware,” she said, “I am a registered resident of Riverblossom Hills under the Naturalization due to Unexplainable Phenomena clause of the citizens’ charter.”

“Hmmm…” said the voice on the phone. “Well, we don’t have your paperwork on file, even though we have you listed as the owner of a property, number twelve lakeshore drive-”

“That’s correct.”

“All right, if you’ll just make an appointment at the county courthouse, I’m sure it’s all a simple mistake. You wouldn’t believe how much paperwork went missing during that little aurora storm last year – we had a fire in one of the older records rooms.”

“Okay, I’ll make the appointment,” Eluisa said, wondering where her fire safe had gotten to. She should still have her naturalization certificate.

“Just make sure to bring confirmation of address and a valid form of identification,” said the person on the other end. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

As she hung up the phone, the strangest sense of foreboding swept through Eluisa, leaving her knees weak. She remembered having applied for naturalization more than twenty years ago when she and the others had first come to Riverblossom Hills, but she remembered it the way you remember a movie – there were details there, but it felt hollow, as if some part of her were missing. She could almost remember having worn a long blue dress…

Feeling suddenly quite heavy, she got up and walked to her bedroom, where she opened her dresser and began, one by one, to pull out every item of clothing that she owned.

She never found that blue dress.* * *

“I just had to get out of the house,” Calla confessed to Meadow, “Aranel is going to drive me nuts!”

Meadow made a sympathetic murmur. “I’m sure she’s just being enthusiastic about the heritage house…”

“Enthusiastic? It’s a campaign,” Calla declared, “I don’t think she sleeps, I think she’s like some sort of weird vampire who feeds off party fumes and obsessively sorts phonebooks at night.”

Despite herself, Meadow laughed. “She does seem to know the entire campus…”

“Yeah, and this past week she invited a bunch of people wearing llama jackets to the house at like, three in the morning,” Calla complained.

“Llama jackets?”“Yeah, you’ve seen them around,” Calla said, “the ones that do that weird

secret handshake thing when they see each other and sneak furtively around campus at night? They were seriously weird, but thankfully, they didn’t stay long.”

“There was probably some event,” Meadow reasoned. “Yeah, probably. Anyhow, my point is, it sucks.”

“It will calm down soon, I’m sure.”“If it’s not Aranel’s crazy campaign trail, it’s the Chamelions or the Trivials

over, or that Bastian guy. And if Aranel’s out, Rean’s got his boyfriend over, or Elirand is bringing some girl home… the only person in that house who doesn’t have any annoying habits is Achenar, and that’s because he’s up to his neck in homework.”

Meadow smiled and shook her head. “I’m sure Achenar has at least one bad habit,” she said knowingly, “you just don’t notice as much, because you’re in love with him.”

Calla blushed – not very noticeably, but it was still there. “Meadow,” she complained, “I am not ‘in love’ with Achenar. He’s my best friend – it’s perfectly natural for me to have had a crush on him – which I am over, by the way – in high school.”

“Not from where I’m standing,” Meadow replied, “You look at him more than anyone else, you talk about him more than anyone else…”

“Again, best friends.”“You get kind of defensive when I bring up how much you like him…”

“Meadoooow. Stop it!”“Calla, I’m not trying to embarrass you, but I’m going to tell you the same

thing I told you two years ago; boys are a little dumb when it comes to love. If you don’t go after him, someone else will.”

“Yeah, you told me that and I found out not three days later that he liked Arcadia… I may not be over that extremely small crush I had on him, but that doesn’t mean that he likes me.”

Meadow just shook her head. “Denial is so much more than just a river in Africa, Calla.”

“Right,” Calla scoffed, “and what, exactly, do you see happening through those rose-tinted goggles you have welded to your face?”

“I just think that you’re good for each other,” Meadow said, “he encourages you. He listens to your ideas, and you know he clearly likes to spend time with you…”

“Still describing friendship, Meadow.”Meadow rolled her eyes at Calla. “Sure, he might be friends with you, but

if you fall in love with someone and can’t stay friends, it isn’t going to last.”“Says the girl who is engaged and already planning the flowers for her

wedding. By the way, how’s Eric’s, uh… Business degree?”

“Eric is doing fine,” Meadow replied, “and stop trying to change the subject.”

“Do or do not, there is no try,” Calla muttered. “I am not trying to change the subject, I am changing the subject. How’s Econ?”

Meadow rolled her eyes. “Econ is terrible, as you know very well. If I never see another graph about oil prices I will die happy.”

* * *

“No, Elu, I haven’t had any problems with my proof of citizenship… well, I’d heard of a few people having issues… I can’t give you specifics, but it seems fairly random. Elves, humans… I think mostly recent residents? A computer program is what I heard. Some sort of corrupted data from the last Aurora storm.”

Talon, who had been sneakily arranging candles on the dining room table, looked up, but didn’t interrupt.

“New research? All right… Well, you’ve had a lot of different jobs, Talon and I show up on far too many documents for a single random deletion to cause too many problems. You made sure that your ownership of the cottage was uncontested…? Good.”

There was a long moment of silence. “Clothing? Why? I think I gave most of it to charity… oh, at least ten years ago… Well, maybe a little bit less: yes, I remember Calla and Elirand stopped wearing anything traditional around the house in something like the eighth grade.”

There was a long moment, while Chali listened. “Okay, but remember the last Aurora storm we all donated a lot to the relief effort. That’s probably what happened to it. It’s not like we carried much with us through the Elipsis... Uh huh.”

Talon was now setting out salmon for two.“Look, Elu, I’m glad I could help, but I’ve really got to go right now… yes,

of course. See you next week, like always.”

Chalimyra hung up, and shook her head at her husband. “Elu’s at it again.”* * *

“… Well I don’t really… Same reason as you, there’s simply no point in having clothes for work and clothes for home… Well, I still have my wedding dress, it’s just in one of those boxes from when we had to move out during the aurora storm… Yes, everything else went to the relief… What color was it? Well, blue, of course.”

Ariadne looked up from where she was happily playing blocks on the floor, and then went on ignoring her mother’s conversation with Auntie Elu.

“No, I don’t remember where we were buying it. I think they went out of business… okay, glad I could help…”

“Yes, as far as I’m aware there have always been the same number of people in Riverblossom Hills Proper… all right, aside from that lovely girl who married poor Gabe O’Mackey, she moved in what, five, six years ago…? No, I can’t say I knew his ex-wife very well. She was always away in the city while Gabe was here teaching. I knew him much better then, though I only taught at the local high school what, two years…? Oh no, this was before Aranel or his daughter were old enough to go.”

Another long-ish pause. “Eluisa, are you sure you’re all right? Of course you have to remember what I taught. I had a split between Home Economics and General Literature the first year, and then I did some time in special education and literacy.”

“… Right… Yes, I was aware that Ana and Lydia planned to have dinner with you on Friday... Okay. Bye.”

She put the phone down and headed out into the living room. “Anairel! Have you finished that essay yet?”

* * *

“Well, no, I haven’t kept in contact with a lot of people from Riverblossom Hills, Elu, you know that… Oh, that does sound like a hassle. Thank you for thinking of warning us.”

Lydia, who had been studying in the living room, froze. Had Elu told her mom about their agreement? No, she couldn’t imagine that her mother would have taken thatthis calmly. It was something else then. Something interesting… and if it was about Riverblossom Hills, then there was a chance she could get some information, maybe something that Eluisa wouldn’t have told her.

She snuck closer.

“Well, no, I don’t think there was much damage from the last Aurora storm out here in the city… Now that you mention it, I guess it is a little odd that the earthquakes were all in such a small area… I’m not a geologist, Elu, but the news was calling it a microtech-something… Yes, microtectonic event, that’s it.”

Her mom listened for a few more seconds. “Well, that does seem a little strange, but you have to admit we didn’t exactly come here with passports… I’m glad you got that sorted out. Okay, I understand. No, it’s no trouble at all –I’ll let you know if I turn anything up. Goodbye.”

Lydia ducked into the corner of the room before her mom could turn around, her mind reeling.

What was Eluisa researching? Did it have something to do with Lydia’s father?

* * *

“No, wait, I swear this was working last night,” said Achenar. Calla sighed and leaned back on the beat-up couch, trying not to think about where Reanand Elirand had gotten it from. “Just a minute, maybe someone’s played with the focus…”

“Achenar, it’s okay if we miss the meteor,” Calla said.“I can fix this,” Achenar protested, “In the next fifteen minutes,

hopefully…”Calla stared up at the sky, where wispy clouds were threatening to make

stargazing an exercise in futility, then got up.

“Let me have a look,” she said, fiddling with one of the focus knobs.“Yeah, there – no, go back a bit – okay, perfect.” Both of them straightened

up, and Calla realized just how close together they were standing. She could feel how much warmer Achenar was than the chilly night air. Crush? What crush?

“So,” said Achenar, after a moment of awkwardly staring, in which neither of them moved. “I… well, I actually asked you out here for something else other than seeing that meteor.”

Calla frowned. “Then what did we need the telescope for?”Achenar smiled awkwardly. “I’ve actually discovered a new star – well, I

think it’s a new star – and before I submit it to the Astronomical society, I was thinking, maybe you could help me name it?”

Yeah, the strange warm thing behind Calla’s ribs was definitely not a crush. Nope, just a natural reaction to Achenar being a nerd. An adorable nerd…

“Okay.”“Also, I… and please don’t let this make things awkward, I don’t want this

to ruin everything… would you go on a date with me?”

At first, Calla didn’t think she’d heard him right. “Sorry, what?”Achenar wilted a little. “Oh, never mind then.”“No, I could have sworn I heard you ask me on a date.”“It was more of a pre-ask… I mean, I understand if you don’t want to, I’m

fine with that. I was just hoping.” Achenar bit his lip. “I was just wondering why ever since we’ve been to college I’ve been looking for a girl to spend the rest of my life with, and every girl I meet just doesn’t seem to be the right one, and… I think I could be happy spending my life with you.”

Accelerated heartbeat? Check. Definite swooping feeling in the stomach? Check. Maybe it was a little more than the crush she’d been denying she had.

Calla reached out and put a hand on Achenar’s shoulder.“That would be nice,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I’ve been thinking

about that too.”“… Oh.”They stood like that for a long moment.“Um, that date,” Achenar said after a long stretch of silence, “Maybe we

could start it now?”

They didn’t even miss the meteor shower.* * *

“… It’s still a building.”Bastian sighed. “Aranel, everything I draw is going to be a building. I’m an

Architecture major.”“It’s got little doors and windows too.”“I can see that peer review was a bad idea.”“No, it’s fine!” Aranel said. “I’m sure if I squint at it hard enough, I’ll see

which is the better drawing…”“The drawing doesn’t matter, it’s the design… oh, nevermind.” Bastian

sighed. “Why are we doing this again?”

“Because you need someone to help you with your portfolio? Also, because it’s Wednesday night and everyone else we know is on a date?”

“Except for those girls in the west wing of my dorm, they’re having some sort of prolonged argument about superheroes, or something. Anyway they were yelling about healing factors and mind reading, so…”

“Yeah, so they’re clearly busy,” Aranel replied. “Wait, are you telling me I wasn’t your first choice for peer review?”

Bastian rolled his eyes at the mock-offense in her tone. “Just because I know that all buildings look alike to poli-sci majors…”

“Pfft, yeah. I can’t believe how many of my idiot classmates have been trying to attend lectures for economic theory in Old Hall North instead of Old Hall South.”

“It’s a month into the semester, they’re probably still hung over from Mardi Gras.”

Aranel snickered. “Okay, I know what happens when you get a poly scimajor drunk,” she said, lifting a slice of pizza out of the box, “so what happens when you get an architecture major drunk?”

“Either they start talking to you about the leaning tower of Pisa, they start babbling about kerning, or they start trying to build a bridge out of toothpicks.”

“You’re a bridge guy?”“Kerning, unfortunately.”“What the fuck even is Kerning?”Bastian looked mortified. “The process of adjusting the spaces between

letters so that it looks right.”Aranel burst out laughing.

Bastian smiled awkwardly. “I know, pathetic, right?”“… Someone actually does that?” Aranel was still laughing. It was starting

to be more than a little embarassing. “Yeah. Look, thanks for trying to help, but I think I’ll just wait for a formal

peer review…”Aranel stopped laughing. “No, stay! We can do something else if I really

can’t help.”Bastian, who had been starting to pack up, stopped. “Like what?”Aranel shrugged. “Theres SX3. Or we could hang out.”

“You seriously want to hang out with me?” asked Bastian, a little skeptical.“Sure. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t just hang out with drunken frat

boys.” Aranel couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. “You could teach me about Kerning – we’ve even got beer.”

“Well, thanks for the offer,” said Bastian, picking up his sketchbook, “but I’ve got work to do and somehow I doubt your intentions are completely honorable…”

Aranel snorted. “Don’t worry, I have no designs on your nerdly virtue,” she began, then took a good look at his expression, and changed tactics.

“I just thought, well, Rean’s pretty serious about Amadeus, which is freakish to see after all his previous dates – who didn’t deserve him, by the way – and, well, I figured we should get to know each other. We’ll be seeing each other more often now, I think… you know, as the awkward best friend third wheels of the happy couple.”

Bastian snorted. “Third and fourth wheel, you mean.”“Hey, I’m poli-sci. We’re very against math, because when you work with

numbers too many inconvenient facts get in the way.”

“I have no idea whether or not you’re serious, and I think I don’t want to know.”

“That’s all part of my indescribable charm.” Aranel was grinning, and Bastian took a chance on it being friendly. Or at least sort of teasingly friendly.

“Oh, it’s indescribable all right…”Aranel grinned and gave him a shove in the shoulder. “So, wanna play

SX3?”

When Achenar and Calla came home, the first thing they heard was a howl of triumph.

“Hah! I totally owned that match!” Aranel said from the living room. “In your face, Arche-geek!”

“It’s about time you won that run,” Bastian retorted, “You’ve finally learned how to steer. After twenty games.”

“You say that after you wipe out in the first slope -”

Calla turned to Achenar with an amused smile. “Looks like your sister’s claimed another video game victim.”

“Oh Green Ones,” Achenar said, over the swiftly escalating trash talk in the living room, “we’re never going to get the television back…”

* * *

From: Finances@ssu.eduTo: ngreenleaf@ssu.eduReceived: December 12

Miss Greenleaf,

The Sim State University Office of Finances regrets to inform you that, unless your outstanding fees equaling $900 are paid in full by the thirtieth of December, you will be ineligible to enroll in courses next semester. With regards to your tuition, we are unable to give extensions and it would be best to contact your financial institution or previous loan provider in order to make arrangements.

If, as stated in your previous email, your education is being funded by your parents, then it would perhaps be wise to have them contact their financial institution on your behalf.

Please make these arrangements as swiftly as possible, since students who are not enrolled at least part time are ineligible for housing in campus-subsidized buildings, such as dormitories, Greek houses, or the on-campus apartment complex.

Sincerely,Ida Noyes, SSU Office of Finances

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“These are very good, Anariel,” said Mr. Cooke, as he paged through the prints. “Are they all of members of drama club?”

Ana rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah. Miss Menke wanted some promotional stuff, and I volunteered to take a couple pictures of practice and set building. I thought yearbook could use some acknowledgement that the people backstage do a lot of work too.”

“Well, you’ve certainly captured the dynamism of the club. Would you like to work on other events?”

Anariel’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“I think you’ve proven yourself capable of taking quality photos for the yearbook. Your posed photos could use some work, especially in composition, if you want to go into photography as an art form, but for yearbook, these are perfectly serviceable. Your candid shots are much better, however…”

He paused, looking down at the photo in his hands. “Especially this one. When did you take this one?”

Ana looked down at the photo, nervous once again. “Just, you know, during practice. I, uh, I took it from the side of the stage.”

“Well, the composition on this is excellent. Nice use of chiaroscuro, an emphasis on movement, a certain simplicity of the background that creates an intimacy with the subject… this is really artistic, Anariel.”

“I… thank you,” said Ana, still a little overwhelmed. “I was just messing around.”

“Sometimes, messing around is an important part of the artistic process,” said Mr. Cooke, with a smile. “I’ll be honest, now that photography’s gone digital, anyone can click a button, throw a few filters on in photoshop, and create an effect that it would have taken weeks to craft on traditionally developed film.”

“I encourage all my students to pursue art if they enjoy it, even if they don’t think they’re very good – anyone who thinks they’ve stopped improving by eighteen can never truly grow as an artist – but if you want to become an artist, find out what motivated you to take this picture. Most of your others don’t give me a sense of the relationship between the photographer and the subject, but this… this one is special.”

Ana blushed heavily. She’d always liked Mr. Cooke’s classes, but she hadn’t thought she’d done especially well in any of them.

“I thought she looked like an angel,” Ana muttered quietly. “That’s what motivated me to take the picture.”

He smiled. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, you managed to convey something. The transformational qualities of art, if nothing else. Maybe you could work with your friend and take some more pictures for practice, work on conveying who she is?”

Ana looked down at the silhouette of Lydia, script in hand, haloed in light. “Yeah, I think she’d help me with that,” she said.

* * *

“What, do they need a bouncer or something?” Aranel said in Bastian’s ear. “It should not take this long to get inside the Chameleons’ house.” It promised to be an odd party all around, with the grass scoured free of snow and the temperature edging up above freezing for the first time since November.

Aranel turned, spotted Ashley Pitts, and shouted “What exactly is the hold-up?”

“Hang onto your ears, Elvensong,” he replied, “we had a little trouble with the keg, but all is well now.”

The party was exactly as advertised: the biggest bash on campus. It was certainly the place to go if you liked loud music, cold free pizza, or lukewarm dollar beer. Or if you just wanted to suck face with your date in a crowd of other hormonal collegiates.

It was a very good thing that the party was confined to the Tri-Var and Urele-Oresha-Cham houses, conveniently located across the street from one another, because this many people couldn’t have fit into a smaller campus house, like the Elven Heritage Association’s.

“You.”Rean stopped abruptly, unable at first to recognize his sister under the

blonde hair. The tone of voice was, however, unmistakable, and with a sinking feeling in his gut he knew that there was about to be a scene. The very same scene that he’d managed to avoid for two and a half years now… Nymeaalways had taken after their mother in terms of volume.

“Hi, Nymea.”“Don’t you ‘Hi Nymea’ me! Get out of here! Before you ruin my reputation

here too!”

“Nymea, it’s not –”“I don’t care about your excuses!” Nymea hissed back, “I worked hard to

be accepted into this sorority, I worked hard on this party, and I am not going to let you ruin it like you ruin everything else! Get out!”

“Look, I’m leaving, all right?”“Good! You owe me after you ruined my life. You shouldn’t even be here at

all, you don’t deserve it! I could have had another year of tuition if our parents didn’t waste all that money on you –”

“Wait, now you’re blaming me for our parents!? You’re the one who -”

“Yes, I am!” Nymea shrieked. “It was you, you, always YOU! Their precious son and heir! Every fucking thing they ever did was for you, and they never cared about me at all! They had a son, so I was worthless! And you just lapped it up, right up until the point that they found out what you really are!”

People were staring at her from the safe distance of behind the pool table or just inside the hallway, which seemed to suit her just fine.

“Nymea –”

“What, you think you can stop me from telling them, you sick, twisted little pervert?”

“I’m not-”“Gay! Faggot! Look, he’s a cock-sucking Homo! Green Ones, Rean, you

think you can still hide it? Do you even know what sort of crap I went through because you had to go dancing with some dirty rent boy? You destroyed our family – you shouldn’t ever have been born! I was humiliated.”

Rean, stunned into silence, said nothing, while most of the people in the doorways, including Amadeus, had turned away out of embarassed horror.

Aranel, however, had marched right up behind him and plastered a very unconvincing smile on her face.

“Nymea, how good to see you,” she said.

“Now go straight back to hell, you bitter, self-absorbed bitch.”

Most of campus was still standing on the edges of the room, staring at them, as Nymea wiped soda off her face, temporarily too enraged to speak.

“I’ve wanted to do that for the last six years,” Aranel said, in a rather smug voice. Then, she grew serious again. “If your whole family is too fucking stupid to appreciate Rean, then by the Green Ones, stay the hell away from him.”

She turned around and saw that everyone was staring at them, except for Amadeus, who was trying to make Rean sit down.

“Aranel, if you ever throw punch in this house again, I’m sending you the cleaning bill,” said Brittany Upsnott, breaking the silence.

“Did you see what she just did!?” Nymea shrieked, getting her steam back.“Yes, and I also heard what you said,” Brittany replied, stony faced. “That’s

one hell of a way to treat your own family.”“He’s no brother of mine!”

Brittany’s mouth twisted in distatste. “Go upstairs, and get cleaned up, and the rest of us will deal with it.”

“Call Campus Security,” Nymea insisted, “have them both arrested!”“You started it,” said Amadeus, loudly and unexpectedly.“And what makes it your business?” Nymea replied nastily.“That’s my boyfriend you just attacked, you harpy.”“Amadeus, don’t –” said Rean, too late.“Well then,” said Nymea, “you’re both just a couple of-”“Nymea Greenleaf!” Heather Huffington shouted.

The whole room turned to look at her instead.“One more word, Nymea,” said Heather, “and I’ll slap you myself. How

dare you. Your behavior is a disgrace to generations of Tri-Var sisters, my aunt and her partner included.”

Nymea opened her mouth again – did she have any idea when to shut up? –but Brittany Upsnott spoke over her.

“This party is over,” she said, “Go to the Chameleons’ or go home, but nobody’s staying here.”

With a last glare at them all, Nymea turned and stalked up the stairs. Slowly, the crowd started to disperse, leaving Aranel, Rean, and Amadeus standing in the corner.

“Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit,” said Rean in a very small voice, trying not to cry.

“It’s okay,” said Amadeus, wrapping his arms around him.“No it’s not. My whole family is crazy,” said Rean. Aranel stood there awkwardly for a long moment: she’d never seen Rean cry

before. “Um,” she said, “I’ll just get our coats.”* * *

Lydia ran straight to the mailbox after she got off the bus, like a desperate bat shooting out of hell. Just like she had for the past two weeks, ever since she’d ordered a copy of her birth certificate. It was absolutely essential that her mother never had the chance to see that envelope before Lydia could get to it. Because, despite Lydia’s deal with Eluisa, she needed proof. It wasn’t that she necessarily thought Eluisa would lie to her, just that if it came down to choosing sides… her mother had been Eluisa’s friend far longer.

Plus, discussing it with her mother had not gone well. Just like the other twenty thousand times she’d tried…

She was in luck: A small, green envelope, addressed from the county records office was sitting in the mailbox.

Not caring that Orion was staring at her like she’d grown another head, she tore inside, ran up the stairs to her room (and wasn’t it fun that she’d gotten her own room just in time for her to go away to college?) and sat down on her bed.

She cut the top of the envelope with her house key and drew the copy of her birth certificate out of it’s paper prison. She’d been waiting for this since the day she turned eighteen.

Idalese jumped as her mother came slamming through the screen of the front door. She was home far too early, and making far too much noise, for this to be good news.

As it turned out, Yvette couldn’t have been paying less attention to her.“Oh, that wicked, wicked girl!” she said to Idalese as she came in and put

down the groceries, “This is exactly why I didn’t want you going off to college and being exposed to such atrocious standards of behavior. But of course your father couldn’t be bothered to arrange suitable matches for the two of you, and now your sister has become some painted Jezebel!”

This is why impressionable girls like you need to be married off to an upstanding elven man, Idalese thought, having plenty of experience predicting the direction of her mother’s rants.

“This is exactly why your sister should have been married off as soon as possible to a nice, upstanding elven man,” Yvette continued, “though the Green Ones know I tried, despite the low quality of the elven families I had to choose from. Nymea’s too headstrong and impressionable: she needs a husband to keep her in line, or see what she does!”

This was the point where Idalese was required to say something.

“You haven’t told me why you’re upset, mother,” she said quietly.“Upset? I am mortified,” Yvette continued, “your sister has brought shame

on the family, parading her body around in such an undignified fashion!”For a moment, Idalese thought that Nymea had stripped down and gone

streaking through the middle of town.“And the photographs!” Yvette said, “Why, your poor father would die of a

heart attack if he saw! His own daughter! On the cover of a magazine! In the grocery store!”

She threw down a magazine on the table.

Idalese gingerly leaned over to look, out of morbid curiosity. Surely, Nymea hadn’t…

She nearly laughed when she realized that all the fuss was about. Nymeawas modeling a bikkini. But what was perfectly acceptable in every other house in the entire world was not good enough for her mother and father.

“She’s… a model?” Idalese asked.“That’s why that wicked, deceitful girl wouldn’t come home!” Yvette

exclaimed, “she would rather sell her virtue than live respectably and support her poor, aging mother in her isolation.”

Idalese didn’t quite think that Nymea had ventured into prostitution. For one thing, it would require her to be pleasant to people. Then again, in her mother’s eyes, Nymea’s little blue bikini on the cover was as good as becoming a hooker.

“She told me that she was seeing a nice young man!” Yvette exclaimed loudly, “She said that she needed another year’s tuition to wait until he graduated! I told her to come home and wait, and your father scrimped and saved to let her stay another year! Yet see what she has done with your father’s generosity!”

Idalese didn’t say the first thing that she thought – that Nymea probably hadn’t been able to pay for the full year off what their parents had sent – or the second thing, which was that anyone would have told Yvette they were seeing a young man, if only to get her off their back. If Nymea didn’t want to find a man and get married, she thought bitterly, she should have stayed at home and let Idalese get out of the house. Idalese, after all, was expected to stay home and take care of Ronan, because Nymea was the oldest and beautiful and would marry well and lift them from their poverty.

Idalese’s efforts at lifting them from their poverty weren’t required.

“… no respect for our family name!” Yvette finally finished, out of breath. “Your honored ancestors are rolling in their graves, mark my words.”

“I’m sure they are,” Idalese replied, torn between jealousy that Nymea –who had clearly died her hair – had been able to escape this house and essentially got paid to play dress up, when Idalese couldn’t think of anyone off the top of her head that deserved a cushy job less, and grudging admiration of her sister’s brazenness. If it had been her, she’d have heard her mother’s scandalized scolding from the moment she put the bikkini on.

“Oh Ida,” Yvette said, “You’re my only good, truthful, modest girl. Promise me you won’t go astray like your sister has.”

Idalese experienced a bizarre rush of guilt, which was funny, since she hadn’t even been thinking of doing anything that her mother wouldn’t have approved of.

“I won’t,” she said, getting up “In fact, I should start the soup so it will be ready when father gets home.”

“Where’s Ronan?” Yvette asked suddenly, “I want to see my only son. He and you are the only credits to our honor that the family has left.”

Idalese froze. Has she heard something about Rean? She couldn’t ask – her father had yelled at her the last time she mentioned his name, and her mother insisted that she had never before given birth to a boy so completely that Idalese thought she’d managed to delude herself into believing it – but she continued to hope that she’d hear something. She didn’t even have an address to send letters to, not that her father hadn’t figured out what she was up to after she wrote a letter to David Ottomas, and locked all the stamps in his desk. She didn’t know if Rean had even been able to continue college after the first year, or if the sudden lack of money had forced him to drop out.

“Ronan’s upstairs,” Idalese finally said, “I put him down for his nap in you and Father’s room, so it would be quiet.”

“Of course you did,” Yvette said, smiling, “Because you’re my good girl who takes only the best care of her only brother.”

Idalese’s heart sank. There was no news, or if there was, she’d never know about it. She understood why Rean had never written to her, she really did, but… everyone else got to leave, and she was still trapped here, doing no good to anybody.

She still had to ask for permission to leave the house, like a teenager, she wasn’t allowed to have any friends, like the Ottomases, who her parents thought were too common. It was actually worse than when she’d been in high school, because then she’d still been expected to find a boy to marry and now her mother had unilaterally decided that she was too old to keep the house andcare for the family heir without help.

“Yes,” she whispered as her mother climbed the stairs, “I’m only your good girl when I look after my brother.”

* * *

“Wow, I’m starving,” Ana said, after Lydia finally emerged from the dressing room.

“You weren’t even on stage,” Lydia replied. “I feel like I’ve got a massive pit in my stomach, and I don’t think it’s all dress-rehearsal nerves.”

“What nerves, you were great,” said Ana, “Let’s go get burgers at Rodney’s, they’ve got to still be open…”

“Hey, Lydia, Ana, wait up!” said a voice from behind them. They both turned, and saw Steve from crew rushing down the stage.

“Hey Steve,” said Lydia, wondering what the rush was. “Hi. Um, Ana, can we talk?” Steve’s eyes flicked nervously at Lydia, which

was odd. “Like, in private?”“Er… sure, but why?” asked Ana, looking a bit nonplussed.“Uh…” said Steve, staring at Lydia, who still hadn’t moved.“Sure, whatever, I’ll go wait,” Lydia waved her hand vaguely, “over there.”

It wasn’t like she and Ana were actually attached at the hip or anything, but she thought Steve was being sort of rude.

What could he possibly want to talk to Ana about that no one else could hear? For that matter, why was he so worked up about it?

She stood there and scrupulously tried not to watch as Steve shifted back and forth and Ana’s nodded along, seemingly okay with whatever they were discussing. After a minute or two, Steve had a huge grin on his face, so Lydia guessed that whatever it was, it was resolved now.

Ana was even walking towards her now, still smiling.

“Steve and I are going on a date!” Ana said. Steve was hanging back.“Congratulations.” Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time Ana had

been asked on a date, and she seemed happy about it. That explained all the blushing and embarassment.

“To Burritopia, actually,” said Ana after a moment, “It’s open late.”It took Lydia a moment. “What, now?” she asked.“Yes,” said Ana, “Raincheck on the burgers?”

“… Sure,” said Lydia, and wondered why she didn’t feel hungry any more as the two of them walked off together.

* * *

“It’s not that I don’t want to go to the Chameleons’ graduation party,” said Rean as he walked across the lawn, arguing with Ara, “I just think we should have warned Bastian and Amadeus about -”

“Aaaw, afraid that Kevin’s going to make fun of your boyfriend?” Ara said. Rean shot her a level look. “Yes,” he said baldly.“Come on, Beare’s not that bad…”“Hey, guys! It’s the Rivendell gang!” Kevin Beare yelled from the front

porch, where he was sitting with a beer in one hand and someone else’s graduation cap in the other, “You guys have to sail a sea to get here or what?”

“… but yeah, he is obnoxious when drunk,” Ara conceded lamely. Calla snorted.

“Elirand!” Heather called out from inside the house, “Glad you could make it!”

With no further prompting, Elirand disappeared into the crowd.“Wow, this place is packed,” Achenar said as they pushed their way up the

steps and slipped into the foyer. “How many people are even here?”“Oh, just all the Chameleons, almost all the Tri-Vars, the entire womens’

volleyball team – you know, just half of campus,” said Tiffany, coming down the stairs.

Aranel grinned at her. “See, this is why you can’t leave,” she said, “Where’s the Smooth Criminal going to be without you editing?”

“Gone to a better place, I hope,” Tiffany replied dryly, “On the bright side, I will never ever have to hear or see one of your political rants again, much less edit them, so I think I’ll survive.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” said Achenar to Calla in an undertone, while Aranel pretended to be offended by the comment, “I’m sure they’ve got food somewhere.”

“You only think you’re through with my political opinions,” Aranel replied.

“Hey, at least we don’t have to listen to them until you start campaigning,” Castor pointed out, from near the pinball machines.

“You never had to listen to any of them,” Tiffany objected, “All you had to do was run the web page!”

“Which included posting Aranel’s articles,” Castor pointed out, and then kissed her. Aranel rolled her eyes.

“They can’t have been that bad if you think they’re an excuse to get all sappy and crap,” she grumbled.

“Feel free to leave us to it,” Tiffany said, then turned to include Rean, “by the way, your boyfriends are both out back playing darts, or were the last time I saw them.”

Rean grinned and headed out through the living room. Aranel just scowled. “For the millionth time, Bastian is not my boyfriend.”

Castor snickered. “He willingly puts up with your politics,” he pointed out, “I’d say that’s a sign of love if there ever was one.”

Aranel flipped him off and headed into the party proper.

Rean had already interrupted the darts game, Aranel saw, and she waved at Bastian, who was busy trying to unclog the Myshuno game.

“Elvensong!” called Ashley Pitts from near the bar, “What took you so long?”

“Some of us actually shower before going out in public, Pitts,” said Aranel. Then “mix me something, I don’t care what as long as it’s got tequila.”

“You know you’ll miss me,” said Ashley, with a shit eating grin, “what are you going to do when I’m graduated and you’re all alone?”

“That’s actually phase one,” Aranel replied easily, “of my ten step plan for campus domination. Get rid of Pitts, beat up the Simmerson mascot, making me more popular than any of the Chameleons could ever hope to be, join the Illuminati, become big sim on campus…”

Ashley was laughing. “All right, just go easy on Beare and Ruben when I’m gone. They’ve got to pick up some new freshmen to fill the house with.”

“Of course. When have I not gone easy on them?”“Every time we’ve played beer pong. Or poker.”Aranel rolled her eyes at him and received her drink.

“Whatever. They shouldn’t play if they can’t strategize.”“I’m not going to miss your card sharking,” said Ashley. “I am going to

miss beer pong though. Kind of wish it wasn’t all over so fast… I have a feeling that I’d be having a lot more fun at this party if I wasn’t the one graduating.”

“If you weren’t graduating, Pitts, I wouldn’t be letting my little sister enroll in the fall,” said Aranel. “You’d just hit on her.”

“Hey baby, does that mean she’s hotter than you?”“She’s barely eighteen, you cretin,” said Aranel, shoving him.

“And she’s got you watching out for her, so I really don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” said Ashley, rubbing his arm. “As well as, oh, your entirehouse. It’ll be fine.”

Aranel grimaced. “You only say that because you don’t have younger siblings,” she said.

“Any siblings at all, actually.”She gave Ashley a look and gestured towards where Calla and Achenar

were busy making out by the back steps. “See what you don’t have to deal with: a whole ‘nother year of this.”

Ashley smirked. “Aww, you’re jealous. Don’t worry: I’ll still kiss you.”“I don’t date alumni.”“Oh, so that’s your style – ow!” Aranel smacked him in the arm again.

“Jeez, I was kidding!”“Shut up and make me another drink.”“Yes ma’am.” There was a moment of silence while Ashley poured a pair

of shots.

“To graduation,” said Aranel, as he grabbed one for himself.“To those left behind,” Ashley replied, “Out with the old, in with the new.”They threw their shots back one after the other.

* * *

Lydia’s heart was only thundering in her chest because she’d run all the way from the bus station. Probably. She reached Eluisa’s cottage several minutes early, and looked around at the garden, which was more or less exactly the way it always was, before proceeding to unlatch the gate and head down towards the beach. Half her life ago, she’d been building sandcastles here and met Anariel, three years ago she’d learned to snorkel in the lake… and now she was going to learn the answer to what was probably the biggest question of her entire life.

Really, there was no reason to be nervous.

“Lydia!” said Eluisa, rounding the corner of the house, “you’re early.” For once, she didn’t sound terribly happy about it.

Lydia nodded. “Sit down, I’m just going to go wash my hands…” Lydia didn’t sit at the

table on the beach immediately, instead choosing to wait until Eluisa had gone in, deposited her gardening supplies, and washed up. She was too excited to sit quietly and watch the waves, or do anything else ‘calming.’ She wanted to know.

Eluisa, however, seemed distracted. She kept fiddling with a piece of her wicker chair, or looking at the lake, until Lydia just could not take it any more.

Lydia took a deep, almost trembling breath, preparing herself for what she was going to say, what she might hear.

“Tell me about my father,” she said.* * *

Still here? Wow. Hi people – it’s been what, a year since my last update? I’m still alive. Uh, and I have a simblr now, which updates about as frequently as I play… from which you can extrapolate the amount of time I’ve been able to spend on Sims lately.

This was a massive chapter. I know, they’re all huge, but this one was nearly 200 slides before I cut about 5 scenes. That’s as many as 20 tens, and that’s terrible! I’m starting to think that I should start breaking them into smaller chunks, which would improve my update schedule, but also be kind of painful because then I’d have to film things in something resembling order. And order is my enemy.

During play for this chapter, Achenar and Calla were actually making out everywhere. (When I first recreated the hood back before all that prom stuff in Graduand, they actually had their first kiss while I was busy filming someone else and have been pretty much inseperable ever since. They also have three bolts.) You have no idea how long they’ve both had “get engaged” want locked.

Aranel did become big sim on campus this round (I know, shocker, right?) and the secret society abduction has crashed my game like five times already. Enough with that mess. I’m not going to make her fight the cow unless she really wants to, though. (Not that it will take too long… he’s unanimously hated by now.)