West juggled the threads of spells as he watched the EMTs give the girl oxygen, slowly collapsing the ones that would manipulate fire and wind, or dilate the fabric of time; the more subtle ones, that distorted probability, he left, ready to be used if necessary. He still needed to know if the pawn had traversed the seventh rank to the eighth, or remained a pawn.

His nondescript tan suit blended in, the one time he was given a questioning look, a badge appeared in his hand, until he was close.

She looks like Ankh.

It wasn't the reason, but it was a reason; the wide eyes, as if they could see everything good and pure. Eyes that could see the angels, instead of the demons.

"You OK?"



Emily’s mind raced what had happened, there was no way I had been in the chapel just a few moments ago. The space she had ran wasn’t small enough to fit inside of the small -- burning -- wooden building.

The EMT had kept asking if she was okay, and she eventually had given into the push of oxygen that the had strapped to her face, even though she had felt perfectly fine. More than fine, actually she felt alive. Everything seemed so much clearer, and with a quick thought back she could see the candle she had placed continue to burn ever so brightly. It was a reassuring fire, and thinking back even the fire she ran from and through seemed to be safe; a destructive force but still safe and calculated.

Now she felt free, as if she could run and run and run and not get tired; like she could fly if she wanted to; like she could fix everything. And for that moment she had her eyes closed, as she inhaled the oxygen that she didn’t need. Why they had even given it to her when she wasn’t coughing at all, and the only bit that had seemed to even touch the fire was a small point on the hem of her jeans, she could only guess.

She handed the oxygen mask back to the EMT, and started to try to explain again that she was fine when she heard a man’s voice ask her if she was okay. She turned to look at him, tan suit, nice build, nice face-- pretty much just like everyone around.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” she said as her eyes gave him a once over. But there was something different about him; a certain feeling that was more than everyone in their proper business motions of dealing with the fire and the girl who had been caught in it (or could have even started it). But he was probably just one of psychotherapists that a fire fighter had mumbled in passing about calling just because she had apparently been ‘spouting nonsense’ when she had been trying to tell them that she was fine.

“I don’t think I was even there for the whole fire to the building, the EMT said it was like I didn’t even get burned, and (don’t think me crazy) but I saw things, and they weren’t fire hallucinations. I know what I saw was real, even if you or they will tell me that it was just the heat getting to my head. And before you ask, I didn’t start the fire either, I have no idea how it started I just happened to be in there lighting a candle in prayer.”



"Mmmmm."

West made a noncommittal noise, one used to signify that he was listening, or believed her, or had heard her, or any or no combination. It was a verbal placeholder while he studied her.

Eyes with Sight took in the ephemeral, delicate glow of her Aura, and he seemed to stare at her intently as he sifted through the shimmer. Light pierced it, Supernal power lighting the layers like a starry sky, and the look of concentration softened into a smile.

"It was real," he nodded, leaning forward slightly.

"...But you can't tell anyone."

West sighed, and his expression went from satisfied and pleasant surprise to awkward hesitance, and his eyes dropped downward. A few moments passed, and another sigh.

"I can tell you everything, but not here, where people can hear us. Once you're done here, I will meet you any where, any time, that makes you comfortable, and explain it." He looked up, the awkwardness firming into serious conviction.

The smile reappeared; something pure, and genuine, a smile he forgets until moments like this.

"And it's nothing bad. It's really awesome, as a matter of fact."


He was staring, was there something on her face...probably soot or something dumb like that. She fought against the sudden urge to wipe her face (which would probably smudge what ever he was staring at). But then he acknowledged that she wasn’t crazy, she seemed to release some of the tension visible in her spine.

“Why?” It was a simple word, childish even, but appropriate. Not that anyone would believe her if she told them; except for this man, in his tan suit. But then he seemed a little awkward, like that moment of whatever it was (relief maybe) was gone.

“I’d love to talk, and the only place I could honestly think of is my home, but I’m not exactly comfortable with bringing strangers there, mister um...” she fumbled for a name. “Perhaps a park or something?” She was still a little wary of him, just out of training from her father; but there was something different about the man in the tan suit that made her more relaxed during the entire ordeal.



Oh, why.

It was the first question, and was often the last question, and always the in between question. For an Acanthus, a child of Fate, it was like a joke waiting for the punchline; and the joke was that there was no punchline. But, like reasons, there were answers, even if they weren't the answer.

"Because you're special."

His answer was as simple as her question, but there wasn't any trace of humor or patronization; if anything, it was the most serious thing he'd said.

West thought for a moment, then added, "How about Southside Park?"

There was a playground for 'white noise', and a trail around the small lake that they could walk as they talked. He wanted to dodge the name question, just out of habit, but didn't, adding, "...And you can call me West."



She almost rolled her eyes, almost, but the tone he had used was just a little too serious for that type of reaction. “Sure, everyone’s special, just not many people get visions like that...” She mumbled out, before making a quick glance at her watch.

“The southside park is fine,” She said looking up at him again, before rising to her feet. “In, say, Two hours okay with you, Mr. West? I have to catch up on one little thing.”

He seemed safe enough, and the park was public enough to keep her comfortable, and yet private enough that this conversation that obviously couldn’t be witnessed by EMTs and Firemen would be able to continue.


To be continued...