"Long day, West?"
"This shit is horrible. Give me good news, Portman. What's the verdict?"
"We will take over Swatham's case."
"...Damn. At least we have a clue, right?"
"Not yet. In a kidnapping, the first 24 hours are the most important. It's time for us to go."
"You think this is a kidnapping?"
"We can't rule anything out yet."
Thank you to heaven and every star in the sky for texting me. No, seriously, text messages are the bomb. This may seem obvious to you, but being able to talk quietly and quickly and without face-to-face expressions and emotions? Sometimes that's really nice. What's more, it's all recorded.
I spent the morning combing through old text messages with one hand while munching on slices of toast. Of course, I still remember (most of) my friends. I've never been like Matt, I love talking to the people around me. But it’s good to focus my memory on the present situation. Ke
sey is going through her "I hate all men" phase, Ja
e is dating Steve, Ka
I like him (although I never told him). Mickey's band breaks up over a stupid argument. My best friend Sara has been texting me all night and she is still telling me that she met a guy and Avale Sildari is getting married
wait. That's inappropriate. Avalee is not my high school classmate. First, she seemed eighty years too old. Even she still looks beautiful. She insisted that I was prettier, but we both knew that was a complete lie. There is no way I can compare to an elf princess. Neither I nor half the girls in my grade could reach it. It's a shame she had to marry such a slob. But no one said political marriage was easy.
But that's none of my business anymore.
"Hey, Jen," my brother's voice echoed in the front hall.
"Dove?"
"I have to go out early. Can you wake mom up?" I could hear his shoes slipping and squeaking on the wooden floor next to the door.
"Okay. What's the matter?"
"I told the others that I was going to meet them before school today."
"Oh, do you have a girlfriend?" I teased, still looking through my old text messages.
"none of your business."
"Ah," I said with a pout. I stood up and went to the corner to take a look at him. "Won't you tell me, Dudara-Sira?"
"No."
"You know that means you know, right?" "You're just pretending," I snickered.
"Now that you say so. Jane?"
"What?"
Matt stood up straight, wearing his favorite jacket and a backpack slung over his shoulders. He stepped forward and pulled me into his arms. I froze, discomfort rising rapidly. I pushed it away, even as a sick feeling crawled into my chest, urging me to squirm out of his arms. I consciously reminded myself that he was just trying to comfort me and be nice to me - he was my brother, he would never hurt me, he was on my side - but the feeling was still there. But I can't tell him.
I fell into his embrace and hugged him awkwardly. After a few seconds, he let go, and my anxiety slowly disappeared.
"You know I've been looking for you, right?"
"Serno," I whispered.
He smiled, but it was a sad, lonely smile. This statement matched my own feelings so well that I almost cried on the spot. However, I've gotten pretty good at hiding my emotions, and it's been an important tool in my career. There was no expression on my face. Now.
"Remember," Matt intoned in a calm, measured voice, "Etoline doesn't exist here either. I know this is hard for you, but keep speaking English, okay?"
I nodded. He opened the door and walked out, the outside world waiting for us both to finally reappear after so many years. "Don't forget mom!" he shouted. He walked out onto the sidewalk and disappeared over the edge of the fence.
He's right: It's harder for me. Let me clarify, I don’t mean resentment. But after so many years, English is no longer my mother tongue. It was the strangest feeling to be surrounded by this foreign language after returning to the world.
Yes, I can understand what is written, what people say, etc. Mostly, anyway. But I haven’t said much in almost seven years. Sometimes I have a hard time understanding what it means. English may be my first language, but Atolin is the language of my heart. More importantly, my brain. To this day, I still mentally translate those text messages into Etoli
e. This is automatic.
There's nothing like being thrown into a place where not only does no one speak the same language as you, but they also know Li
gue
Hostile places are better. This is immersion learning at its worst. Or the best, I guess, because I'm a quick learner. I have a good teacher. English disappeared for me almost overnight and did not come back for a long time.
You should really see the first time I interpreted between Mr. and Mrs. Silver and Ambassador Selman. That's a joke. This was the first time I spoke or even heard English in nearly six years.
It doesn't end well.
My phone rang again, bringing me back to reality. If I don't hurry, I might be late. I hurried upstairs to my mother's room and put my ear against the door. There is no sound. She must still be sleeping. ah.
I rapped lightly on the door with my knuckles.
"Mother?"
"N
ugh. "
I rolled my eyes. "Mom, you have to get up."
“What multiplies it?”
"It's time for breakfast. Come on." I wrinkled my nose as I smelled the coffee starting to drift up the stairs. I've never liked coffee and I don't like it even more now. It messed with my head. "I'm going in, okay?"
I pushed the door open with more force than I intended. It swung wide and bounced off the wall. My mother turned around in bed and raised one hand to block the sunlight coming in from behind me.
"Jenny, let me get some sleep."
I'm not angry about the wrong name. I was scolded even worse. "Mom, if I do that, you'll sleep until get off work. Come on."
"What?"
I sat next to her and helped her sit up. She leaned heavily on my shoulder, blinking with fatigue. "Did you forget to set the alarm again?" This question popped out of my mouth, but it immediately felt familiar to me. It was a strange feeling, like I was performing a play I'd done a hundred times but had never read the script. I just know what's going to happen next, even though the character I play is usually that of my brother.
"Okay," she said, her eyes finally opening. "Go ahead and at least let me get dressed."
"Nuh-uh. You stand up." I put an arm over my shoulders and helped her up from the bed. She swayed slightly, but quickly stabilized herself. Now that she was standing, she was less likely to fall back asleep. "Look on the bright side. You only have one thing to do today, right?"
"...Yes." She smiled. "Go on. I'm done."
"I'm going to heat up your breakfast. If you want to be warm, you'd better come down here quickly." I went back downstairs, found the plate Matt had prepared, and threw it into the microwave.
Microwave, by the way? Great. Even though it usually tastes worse, convenience is much more important than that.
refrigerator. I learned how to live without it, how to preserve meat and live off the land, but it would be too bad if I wasn't going to use it now.
I heard my mom thumping down the stairs and just then the microwave went off. I took the plates out and put them on the table for her with silverware. I still remember where the drawer for the silverware is, which makes me feel oddly proud. Makes me feel cozy and warm inside. Little successes add up, okay? I feel like I'm back home, so much so that I forget what planet I'm on.
“Vei pol
a
a susvyla ta
a
abyla
, selaval,” I said, gathering my own plates and rinsing them in the sink.
"Huh?" I looked up and saw my mother's face confused. Ouch. I mentally beat myself up a dozen times. English, damn it.
"I'm just practicing. Your food is on the table." I pointed to where the steam was coming from her food. I couldn't remember the English name of her meal, which bothered me. I could call it Etoli
e's name (kelbasal, for those playing at home), but that doesn't help much. I started pouring her coffee into the cup and she sat down and ate it. I placed the cup next to her and kissed her on the cheek.
"I didn't know you picked a foreign language," she said, picking up the newspaper Matt had left behind. Now that I've dealt with a lot of high-level politics myself, I suddenly find Matt's habit of staying connected less strange.
"Well, why not? Maybe it works." To my eternal relief, she asked no words and just went back to her food. I took my bag off the table and put it on my back. It feels well balanced, but not as good as the quiver I usually wear on my shoulder. This is a very light but very strong material, Tethevalle
Syl
a
de
Handmade for my 21st birthday.
There was a lump in my throat. My heart sank at the thought of the memory surfacing. I miss him very much.
"Are you okay?" My mother's voice penetrated the veil that suddenly fell on my eyes. I smiled and watched her get ready.
"Of course," I replied, speaking specifically in English this time.
"You've been acting weird lately."
"You're just tired. See you tonight, okay? Matt's making dinner."
Mom was very excited after hearing this. Matt is definitely the best cook in the family and has saved us a ton of money. He can make even the cheapest ingredients delicious, and he's learned a lot of new tricks while dodging Selman's army. I look forward to going to the grocery store after school, as weird as it sounds. This helped me in more ways than one.
"I have to go now. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Jenny. Have a good time at school." She waved at me, then back to the back of her hand.
I gave her my best smile, put on a dark coat, and walked out the door.
＊＊＊
The world opened up around me, and it felt good to see the sky again (even though it was basically covered in layers of fluffy gray clouds with an angry look that promised a torrential downpour), but it was all were completely ignored as the girl waited impatiently on the sidewalk. Her name is Sarah and she is my best friend in the world.
It’s also because of her that my phone has been buzzing all morning.
"Jenny, what took you so long to come?" she shouted. I was practically skipping down the sidewalk. I was so happy to see her, she called me Jenny, I almost lost my mind.
PS: I stopped being called Jenny a long time ago. It's in another world anyway. If you're wondering if I used some fancy Etoli
e name, the answer is no. Tethevalle
My last name is directly translated during royal meetings and formal occasions, but most of the time I am called Je
. First, it sounds cooler, but actually feels more like me. Stronger, I guess? I don't know, that's what I think. Sorry, I can't give some deep explanation that digs deep into my identity or my soul or something. My name used to be Jenny, now my name is Jane. This is a thing.
I decided it was best to start trying to change now. I really don't like "Jenny".
"Hello, Sarah." We started walking toward the school, which was only a few blocks away. Our homes are so close that I never have to walk far, which means my friends usually gather in front of our house whenever we decide to go for a walk together. Usually there are at least three or four of us, but today it seemed like Sarah was the only one. I'm a little happy. I'm worried there's just too much to deal with right now. It can be said that I want to slowly return. "This sounds weird, but can you call me Jane?"
"Well, are you okay?"
"I don't know, I feel like Jane now."
Sarah looked at me strangely. “Did you have an epiphany overnight?”
"Of course." I'm not sure what "epiphany" means, but I guess it works.
"Okay. Jane." She nodded. "Okay, remember when I was hanging out with a guy online?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, he's cool. If you're wondering, I've also talked to him in person a few times, so it's not a chat room romance or anything. Anyway, you don't need to hear anything more about him from me, So I got right to the point. I was thinking about asking him out because I felt like he would never ask me out."
My eyes were a little dazed. I only had a vague understanding of what she meant by "chat room romance." "I feel very tired from everything I have just experienced, and my mind wanders to the memory of the night deep in the woods. We wrapped ourselves in furs and sat around the fire, looking at the stars in the sky, listening to Rouiret singing for us Play soft music and fall asleep gradually.
"——Your permission, because he is your brother."
I snapped back to reality. "Dove?"
"Um?"
Damn it, here we go again. "Do you want to date my brother?"
"Yes." Sarah bit her lip nervously, waiting for my answer.
I thought about it for a while. I understand why she asked me because my brother and I had always been close before all this happened. We took care of each other since we were little, because my mom didn’t have that much time, so we were very protective of each other. I'm sure I've intentionally blocked people who wanted to hang out with my brother on more than one occasion if I thought they were a threat or something. It all seems silly now. He is fully capable of making his own decisions and taking care of himself. I saw it with my own eyes.
"That's up to you," I replied. "I'm just a spectator."
"are you sure?"
"I'm sure." I said with a smile on my face. "As long as nothing changes between us, right?"
"Yes." Sara also smiled. Hers looked genuine.
I didn't lie to her. She and Matt would be happy together. Who knows? They don't look like a bad couple. I didn't think too much about it. Like I said, it's none of my business. I had a lot of other things to deal with once school started, as Sara will show.
She just said something that I don't understand at all. I knew every word, it wasn't a very long sentence, but the meaning was completely lost on me. I felt panic rising in my chest, making my limbs tremble. I tried to steady myself mentally. Maybe I didn't listen carefully enough.
"Sorry, what?"
She said again, slightly slower. I listened carefully. This doesn't help at all. My brain struggled to translate the words into something, despite my fatigue.
Frankly, I didn't sleep at all last night. Possibly a few naps, but I was too scared to let myself fall asleep. Add in the hectic last few days (actually weeks) and I'm really at the end of my rope.
I tried desperately to decipher Sarah's words. The context wasn't helpful at all, she was changing the subject. How much is an idiom and how much is a literal meaning? That is not a question. Maybe I can brush it off. No, Sarah was waiting for an answer.
"Of course," I said boldly, hopefully.
"Do you need help?"
nonsense. Blah, blah, blah. What does that mean? I was too scared to answer it wrong. This problem can be everywhere. I racked my brain, but the best I could come up with was that she was talking about something tech-related. Computer, probably. I never used it much in the first place. That's her style.
"Hello?" Sara waved her hand in front of my eyes.
"Vack." I cursed under my breath. My face started to heat up. I suppressed it with all my willpower. I don't want to look awkward, at least not yet. I may have felt it, but it would have been terrible if I was going to look so stupid in front of my best friend.
I had no other choice at the time. I sighed.
"Look, this sounds weird again...but I don't know what you just said."
Sara raised her eyebrows. "Um, what? Why are you talking like that?"
I realized I had stopped trying to correct my accent. Sarah is so attentive. Usually that's what I like about her, but now it's really problematic. I tried again to imitate the earthier accent of the Pacific Northwest. "Stop joking, okay?"
"I'm not," Sarah replied. "But we were still discussing this issue yesterday and the day before yesterday..." She trailed off.
"...can you keep it a secret?" No, I won't tell her. Do not be silly. But I have to find a way.
"Of course." Sarah leaned closer, expectantly.
"My memory isn't very good right now. I often forget little things." Sarah looked really worried now. "Don't worry, I'm fine. I went to the doctor and they checked me out. There's nothing wrong with me." I may not have lied before, but I will play the deception game when necessary. I said it, ex-diplomat.
"Doctor?" Sarah pointed out dryly.
"Like I said, forgetful." And I was acting like an idiot. doctor. That's the word. Doctors, nurses, surgeries, hospitals. Ambulance and 911. Instead of healers, rituals and magic. "What did you just say?"
"Your laptop. You know, your computer?"
"Okay, how about that? What did you say about voices and broken records?"
Sarah shook her head. "What the hell happened to you? Did you have an aneurysm or something?"
"Suppose it is, okay?" If I didn't feel so bad, I would have laughed at her choice of words. This would never happen on Earth.
"Okay, whatever." She took a deep breath. "What I'm saying is: I'm sorry if I repeat myself too many times, but...you need to improve your laptop's...protection." She sighed. "Did you hear it?"
"Yes." I frowned. I felt like I was being spoon-fed by her. This is embarrassing. But I had no idea what a record was, or what a laptop was, until she just explained it. In my book, "firewall" means something completely different. I looked away, my face getting really red. I felt a hand on my shoulder. Sarah was taller than me, which only added to the impression. She's older, taller, smarter, everything. I'm just...inferior.
"Jen, are you okay? Is it serious?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine." I smiled again and turned around to see her concerned expression. "I just don't feel well today."
Sarah frowned. "Just text me if anything happens, okay? See you at lunch?"
"Yes. Wait, no."
"There's none?"
"I promised Matt I'd have lunch with him today. He needed something to talk about."
"Oh." Sarah looked relieved. "Okay, good."
A car roared past us, interrupting our conversation. It startled me - it was the first time I'd seen a moving car in nearly a decade. Thankfully, I managed to hide my surprise, otherwise Sarah might have gone into emergency mode.
"Hey, Sarah," I added calmly. "Don't mention this to Matt?"
She looked more worried now. "Jenny, what happened?"
"Promise me, okay?"
"I promise." I could tell she was serious. Good old Sarah, always reliable. I developed feelings for my best friend.
I miss her too.
"See you in journalism class," I said, trying to comfort her.
"Okay." I'm not sure if it worked, but she looks better now. At the same time, I felt terrible. I felt so guilty for hiding this from my best friend. Maybe Sarah should at least know something. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to tell her everything, but it might make our lives a lot easier if she knew a few details. I was sure I could make her trust me.
I just had to get Matt to agree.
* * *
After a long, thrilling scare, our conversation returned to safer topics. I can handle these things better. By the time we arrived at school, I was back to my normal self. At least I'm close.
I waved goodbye to Sarah, who was in class at the other end of the school. My first class, algebra, was just a few steps inside. The funny thing is, I can't remember the class, the teacher, or the names of more than two students, but I know exactly which room it was in and when it showed up on my schedule.
Things you'll appreciate when you're not good at a language: Math is almost universal. Different symbols, but everything else remains. I could breeze through this class without any difficulty. At the same time, as more and more English flows through my brain from the snippets of conversation around me, the memory of the language floods back. It still didn't feel right, but at least I wouldn't look like the idiot I did in front of Sara.
I'm not a huge math guy, but I have no problem with math. I've gotten through the day so far, and dealing with the symbols and logic puzzles is almost a breeze. Of course, my sense of contentment only lasted a few minutes before I remembered that this was still work and I was still stuck in a class full of people I didn't like. From then on, the class seemed to go on endlessly. I fell asleep maybe three or four times, and they were all unnoticed naps. After emerging from the last hole, I immediately regained consciousness.
My vision seemed to flash slightly, and suddenly, everyone looked... different. I can't tell why. Nothing has changed. Physically, everyone looks exactly the same as before. But everyone seems a little off-putting. Hostile, even.
Their faces are blank masks. They may be hiding something. What to plan. They outnumber me twenty times. They can take me if they want.
My chair is against a wall. I turned slowly, orienting myself toward the crowd as subtly as I could.
If any of them move, I'm ready.
I may not have a weapon, but I know dozens of ways to escape, or quickly take down someone larger than me, and I'm confident I can escape most of them.
They would never take me again.
What the hell am I doing?
The moment passed. No one in the room looked at me. No one has any plans against me. My mind is playing tricks. The feeling of relief returned to my mind, but it was still laced with a lingering fear. For a minute, I completely disappeared, stuck in a corner of my mind that I never wanted to go to again.
As soon as the bell rang, I was out the door. The second class was journalism, I remember it very clearly. Again, I'm not a news junkie, but I had a lot of my friends in this class - and most importantly, Sarah was there. Friendly face. I need some friendly faces. People around my age.
Relatively speaking. Neferin is much older than me by any standards. But that doesn't matter now. She was in another world and I had to go to the newsroom.
A large group of students poured into the hallway, creating a crowded maze that seemed impossible to navigate. I clung to the wall, avoiding the subject, and clung to the lockers beside the wall. This meant I bumped into more individual students, but I could maneuver around them more easily rather than trying to navigate the ever-changing pattern in the middle of the hall.
Why is it suddenly so difficult for me?
Oh, right. I hadn't been to high school in over 7 years, and I was suddenly back in my 16-year-old body. This kind of thing could throw anyone off balance. Actually, literally. More than once. My brain wants me to be taller and stronger. I almost tripped a few times.
over there. The newsroom door is within easy reach. Long before the bell rang, I was in the classroom, in our usual corner. So I was one of the only kids there. I got some weird looks from the normal early arrivals, but I was mostly alone. We're a close-knit group here, top journalists, elite. Or something like that.
Let's be honest. This is high school news. We spent most of our time hanging out together.
I was exhausted from the long walk through school to get here. Aside from the lack of sleep, I'm not physically exhausted; I may not be in the best shape of my life anymore, but I'm still healthy for 16-year-old me. I had a nervous breakdown. I closed my eyes and put my head on the countertop, carefully orienting myself so that the corner was behind me. I can still make out the sounds in the room, the slight drafts of people moving about in the air.
At least that wasn't taken away. I trained myself to pick out every clue I could from every sensation in my body. I can keep a perfect picture of the room and everyone in my mind, even with my eyes closed to keep it up to date. It would be very, very difficult to sneak up on me - as Sarah would soon find out.
"Shasi, vis hila," I said, raising my hand to grab hers. She was going to tap me on the shoulder to wake me up. "What do you want to tell me?" Dov litev dou seddeka level
ala
dvei. "
I opened my eyes and grinned. I expected her to be upset and maybe tease her a bit before going back to class, but all I got was confusion. In my sleep-deprived state, it took me a few seconds to realize that I had made another mistake in my English.
"I think it's my turn," she said slowly. "I don't know what you're talking about." Sarah's anxious look from the morning returned, like a nasty pest that wouldn't let us go.
It’s not that I find Sarah annoying. This sentence is poorly worded. Overall, I really didn't do a good job.
"Oh, uh..." I fussed for a moment, picking out the first thing I could think of that sounded remotely believable. "It's a fake language I made up."
"Hmm," Sara replied, clearly unconvinced. I flinch. My best friend disagrees. I really, really don't want to lie to her.
Matt will understand. I hope.
I sighed, mostly to myself, and took a deep breath. "Okay, Sarah. Look. It happened. I can't tell you. Not yet."
Sarah raised her eyebrows as the final bell rang and students started streaming in. She glanced toward the classroom door. I could tell we were both thinking the same thing. Two other members of our small class group will be arriving soon. I love them both, but Sarah has been my best friend since we were four. That kind of friend, you know? The only one I could consider telling my story to.
"I guess you have a good reason?" she asked softly, moving closer so she wouldn't be heard.
"I promise I'll tell you. I just can't yet."
"How are you?"
"Yes," I replied. It took me a few seconds before I spoke. I have to write exactly what I want to say in English and make sure I express everything clearly. "Honestly, I'm fine. I'm not dead and I'm not in any trouble. But my mind is going crazy during this time. I can't remember a lot of things. I'm sorry to blame all this on you, but I’m going to need a lot of help right now, and you’re the only person I can really trust.”
I waited impatiently as she seemed to consider my words. Her face was covered in an unreadable mask. I've never been good at reading people, I'm only good at hiding my emotions. Finally, she spoke again.
"Okay." She nodded. "I believe you. But I do want that explanation."
"I promised, didn't I?"
"Still waiting for the pony you promised," she added with a forced smile. Even though it was an old joke that none of us found funny at the time, it worked. I laughed too, and soon we were both laughing, even though Ke
sey and Mi
The AI shows up, and they're all eager to hear a joke that none of us can explain.
But eventually, things started to feel normal again. We entered the class, split into groups, and everything went smoothly. But Ke
sey and Mi
ai or call me Je
y.
I have to solve this problem.
It wasn't long before I felt that way again. Discomfort, and the feeling of adrenaline rushing into your body. I felt like I was being overwhelmed by something I couldn't see. There were too many unfamiliar faces in the room. They shouldn't be unfamiliar. Seven years ago, I knew everyone's name and face. Today, they might be complete strangers.
But this time, I found a way out.
I poked Sarah. "Hey. Let's go for a walk?"
"certainly."
Two minutes later we were hanging out in the playground behind the school, supposedly to interview a staff member who had some free time, but really just to hang out for a while. Media passes, aren’t they the best?
Even better, I didn't have to explain it to Sarah. This is completely normal. We use this excuse all the time to go out. We didn't talk about anything in particular, we just talked and laughed as usual. Fortunately, the rain I was looking forward to has arrived. Pieces of sunlight shone on the rain-soaked lawn, becoming increasingly brighter as the clouds dispersed. A few birds were circling in the trees at the end of the field. It looked like today was going to be a good day after all.
As we walked, I was busy looking at the sky, and as we rounded the corner behind the portable classroom, I almost missed Carl, who was sitting in the shadows with his face in his hands.
