#thelineiserased

The final day of @the-line-is-erased:Free Day - Worldbuilding - Lost moments; unseen, forgotten or in a time that never was

I just think that Sasha and Skraak should’ve gotten to meet

Posting this early because I won’t be able to do much of anything tomorrow and I don’t trust tumblr to schedule this right

“You got it?”

“Of course I’ve got it. You’ve got yours?”

Skraak nodded. “Ready?”

“Three… Two… One…”

Just after the last number of the countdown, both Skraak and Sasha pulled out a wrapped package from behind their backs.

“Happy Gift Day!” They both exclaimed as they exchanged packages.

Sasha ran her fingers over the wrapping, while Skraak held their gift up to their ear as if listening for some clue that might reveal its identity before they pulled the paper off a moment later.

This had been a yearly tradition since the pair first met and Augusta provided their team with various equipment during their stay at The One that Got Away.  Neither had received much in the way of gifts before that, and the whole process in front of others always made them feel awkward.  While they would still participate in exchanges with the others during holidays and birthdays, they also started their own tradition, where there was no strangeness or unexpectedness, only a relaxing way to catch up on all of the gifts they should have been given earlier.

“You shouldn’t have!” Sasha cried, her eyes wide.  She had ripped open the paper to reveal a box, inside of which was a flamberge dagger.  The undulating blade radiated cold.

Skraak, meanwhile, tore open the wrapping with his teeth to find a plain black dagger.  A single dark gem was set into the hilt.

“I love it,” they whispered, dutifully examining it.

“It’s supposed to hurt more if you stab someone while you’re in the shadows,” Sasha explained.

“And yours can freeze people!  Or at least make them really cold.”

“I had one like this before, but it broke.  This is amazing.”  Sasha gave the dagger a few test thrusts and jabs.  “I need to rearrange my daggers; this one is going up front.”

“I can’t wait to test it out.”  Skraak beamed.

“What do you say we go find some trouble?”

“What about the others?”

“Hey, this is ourGift Day,” Sasha rebuked.  “And if we want to test our fancy new Gift daggers out on baddies, we are allowed to.  Those are the rules.  The rules that we made when we made Gift Day.”

“Sounds good to me! And I’ve got all my other daggers from our last Gift Days.”

Sasha patted her jacket.  “I do too. I love that little one you got me last year.”

Skraak led the way out of the room, careful not to alert any of their other friends that they were sneaking out without them.  Not that either they or Sasha needed to worry – no one would ever notice them unless they wanted to be noticed.

Once they were safely out of earshot, Skraak asked, “Do you think we ought to gift something other than daggers?  I thought about something else this year, but a dagger just seems right, you know?”

“A dagger is the perfect gift,” Sasha replied.  “I know we’re both still getting used to the whole gifting thing, but I’m pretty sure everyone would be happy to get a dagger.  At least, I know I am.  Daggers are well good.  Can’t go wrong.”

“Hey, Sasha?”

“Hm?”

“I really like Gift Day.”

Sasha smiled.  “Me too.”

“Think we can do it more than once a year?”

“It’s our tradition, we can do what we want.  Though we might start running out of daggers to gift.”

With a sigh, Skraak said, “So many daggers, so little time.”

Day 9 of @the-line-is-erased:The Vengeance and Northern Wastes - Mortality - The things we’ve lost and the things we’ve found.

Skraak struggles with Meerk’s choice to stay dead

Skraak grabbed another cup of the warm drink they’d been served – he didn’t know exactly what it was – and then retreated from the rest of the group.  They were exuberant and loud, and he just needed a little space.

They found a small place to sit and think, not drinking the beverage but letting its heat seep through their scales.

“Hey, little buddy?”

With a heavy exhale, Skraak looked up at Cel, poking their head around the corner of the bunks.

“Hi, Cel.  Is everything alright?” They replied.

“I mean, I don’t know. I saw you slip out and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”  They paused for a moment, then quickly added, “And if you’re not okay, or even if you are, and you want to be alone, I’ll go, just say the word.  But if you do want company, I’m here for you.”

For a moment, Skraak hesitated, then sighed.  “I miss Meerk.”

“Oh.”  Cel took a seat next to them, careful to leave enough space between them so they weren’t smothering them.  “I miss him too.  I know it’s not the same; you knew him way longer than I did, and you went through the same horrible things at Shoin’s, but…”

Skraak nodded.  He fiddled with the cup in his hands and looked into the steam instead of facing Cel.  “It’s hard.  I saw him there, in that ritual thing.  They were happy!  And it was so loud.”  They smiled as they remembered Meerk’s joy in the cacophony.  “And of course I’m glad that you were able to bring Sassraa back, and that the other two are back too.  But… I still feel… I still wish…”

“You wish Meerk had come back too.”

“Yeah.  And I feel like it’s my fault he didn’t.  If someone else had gone in after them, maybe they’d be here.”  He shook his head.  “Which is selfish.  He’s happy.  And safe.  That’s what matters.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t miss him.”

“And when everyone else is so happy, it drowns out our mourning.  Not that that’s bad, it’s just… hard to be around all the time. Do you think…”  He paused, then set down his mug on a nearby end table. “Can I have a hug?”

“Of course!”

Skraak fell into Cel’s open arms, and they squeezed them tight as their tears poured forth.  The pair sat like that for a good long while, holding each other close and rocking back and forth in a gentle, relaxing pattern.

“Thank you,” Skraak croaked as he pulled away and wiped his face.

Cel put a hand on their shoulder and gave a sympathetic smile.  “Do you want some company?  Maybe tell me some stories about Meerk?  Or we can just sit in silence.”

“Yeah, that would…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “No, you should go back to the others.  Enjoy the festivities.  Besides, I’m sure you have more flirting to do with Barnes.”

Instead of leaving, Cel scooched back and settled in beside Skraak, giving no indication of going anywhere.

“I can flirt later. Right now, I’m here for you.”

Skraak smiled up at them. “Thank you.  Thank you for being here.”

“You’re welcome.  After all, that’s what friends are for.”

Day 8 of @the-line-is-erased:Japan- Reunions - Inventions, creations, and crossing the line.

Cel and Sassraa talk about gender

“Cel, I have a question.”

They leaned back from where they were installing part of the elemental engine that would power the airship. Cel’s draconic wasn’t great, but they were working on it constantly, so between that and Sassraa’s English they could get by easily enough.

“Sure, what is it?  If it’s about Skraak’s suggestion for the rudder, I told him already that it won’t work, and if he’s trying to get you to convince me, I’m-”

“No, no.”  Sassraa looked down sheepishly.  “It’s about your society.”

“Oh.  You mean, the society of the village I lived in just recently? Or half-elf society?  Oooh, is there an alchemist’s society you’ve heard of that I am somehow not a part of?”

“Maybe I said that wrong…”

“No, no, it’s all good.” Cel offered a supportive smile. “I got carried away.  Go ahead.”

Sassraa sat down next to Cel.  “Well, I was talking with Hamid, and I realized that much of his culture seems to revolve around two main genders.  Not that there aren’t others”- Sassraa gestured to Cel –“but they’re a rarity, and not always well regarded.  Among kobolds, we have… eight sort of ‘common’ genders, but there are way more than that and sometimes people have a mix or have multiple.  And nobody bothers you for your gender or makes you live and work in a different role because of it.  It’s just… very strange.”

“It absolutely is,” Cel replied, nodding and letting out a heavy breath.  “A lot of languages are very much not welcoming to a gender that isn’t male or female.  You have to make your own rules.  But, hey, if your gender doesn’t, I don’t know, translate across from your society, you don’t have to try and press yourself into one that people around here might know of.  Just be you.”

“It’s hard.”  Sassraa chuckled.  “I’m sure you know.”

“I’ve had a lot longer to figure it out, though.  You’ve just been thrown into this.”

“You and Hamid have been trying to teach me English, but pronouns… I don’t know which ones to use for me.  There are a few that could fit, I suppose-”

“You can use more than one set!”

Sassraa’s eyes grew wide. “I can?”

“Of course!  You can use as many pronouns as you want!  Or none, as the case may be, and we’ll just use your name.  And it can change day by day, whatever you’re feeling.  Or!  Or you can make your own pronouns!  Like I said, you get to make your own rules, which is scary, but also freeing.”

“Hm.”  Sassraa thought about it a long while.  “I think I’d like to try they and she?”

Cel smiled. “Absolutely.  Is there anything else I can try and help with?  Not sure I helped at all here or if I just rambled.”

Now it was Sassraa’s turn to smile, placing a hand on Cel’s arm.  “You helped a lot.  We make our own rules.  We don’t force ourselves to play by someone else’s.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright, now I should go tell Skraak how terrible an idea that rudder design is.”

Cel chuckled.  “Good luck; he’s real set on it.”

With a fond roll of her eyes, Sassraa stood and trotted away to continue their own construction work. Meanwhile, Hamid came over to Cel with an armful of equipment they had previously requested from the scrap of Earhart’s last ship.

“Is everything alright with Sassraa?”  He asked.

“Oh, yeah, she’s all good. I was just helping them out with some cultural things.”

Sassraa wasn’t quite out of earshot yet, and Cel swore they could see her smile as they heard both sets of pronouns used.  

Day 7 of @the-line-is-erased:Rome - Sacrifice - Things hidden in history that will never come to light. 

Thinking bout those goblin kiddos

“Grizzop?  Are you asleep?”

“No.  Are you?”

“Obviously not.”

Grizzop let out a huff of acknowledgement, but a faint sob escaped his lips at the same time, just loud enough for Sasha to take note.  She rolled over to face him.

“Are you alright?” She asked.

The obvious answer for both of them was ‘no.’  They were trapped in the past, and Grizzop had the added bonus of his surroundings being particularly hostile to anyone who wasn’t human.  But the life he left behind was so much fuller than anyone may have realized.

“I have… I have kids,” he said quietly.

At that, Sasha’s eyes opened wide with surprise, and she practically bolted out of her makeshift bedroll.  “You’re a dad!?”

“Me and Vesseek, we-”

“You and Vesseek!?”

“Sasha!”  He cried in a whisper.  “We’re supposed to be laying low, not waking everyone up because we’re yelling.”

“Fine.  It’s just a lot, you know?”  Despite her protestations, she lowered her voice to a more manageable level.  “I had no idea you were a dad.”

Grizzop sighed.  It wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but he trusted Sasha, and it wasn’t like he had much to lose since they were stuck in the literal past anyway.

“Yeah, Vesseek and I, we have a clutch.  Vesseek looks after them while I do my paladin stuff, and I send whatever money I make back to them.”

“Must be hard to leave them all the time.”

“It is.”  Grizzop tried not to think about how he might never see them again, never hold Vesseek again, never hear his kids call out ‘Papa!’ again.  “But if I can make the world a little safer for them, then it’s worth it.  Got to make sure they have a future, right?”

Sasha nodded, but said nothing, silently scanning Grizzop’s features.

“Here, this is them.” He handed over a magical photograph of his family.  “It took almost an hour to get everyone to sit still for that.”

“I believe it,” Sasha chuckled as she looked over the image in the dim light of their safehouse.

Grizzop continued. “And it just hit me…  I always knew there was a risk that I would die while doing my duty, and that I would leave my family behind.  But now… now I’ll be living out the rest of my life without them.  The thought of spending however long I have left without ever seeing them again, it…”

There was another sob again, building up in his throat, but he swallowed it down and shut his eyes tight.

With his eyes closed, he didn’t see Sasha reach out for him, but he felt her place a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to get back,” she insisted. “You’re going to see them again.”

“I hope so.”  He let out a heavy exhale, then took the picture back from Sasha and tucked it carefully into his armor.  “And if we arestuck here, it’s not like I’m going to be overly reckless or anything.  There’s still plenty that needs fixing here, plenty of good to be done.”

“Don’t worry, Grizzop, we’ll get you home.  After all, you have to introduce me to all your kids.  I can’t wait to teach them some knife tricks.”

“Absolutely not!”  He shrieked, and Sasha burst out laughing.  “That’s a disaster waiting to happen!”

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that.”

Day 6 of @the-line-is-erased:Damascus- Party - The choices we make and the consequences, whether good or bad, therein.

aka when Paladins have conflicting oaths

How could she be so blind? There was more at stake than just the life of one person she cared about.  If they didn’t shut down the factory, stop the production of the simulacra, the entire world was going to fall, including her brother.

Grizzop vibrated with rage. Azu just stood there, acting like love conquered all.  Foolish. But he shouldn’t have expected anything else from the Aphrodite lot.

Of course he wanted to go after Vesseek.  It was hard enough to leave them alone with their clutch, but it all hinged on the fact that the entire world could fall apart if someone didn’t do what needed to be done to save it.  And if Grizzop had to leave in order to be that person, then he would be.

Vesseek knew that the greater good came first.  They understood this from the start.  And Grizzop remembered his oath to Artemis.

As much as he longed to run off to Rome and save Vesseek and the others, he set his sights on the funnel above and the machinery around them.  There was still work to be done.

~~~

How could he be so heartless?  Was the life of someone he loved worth so little to him that he would let them be beaten and tortured by the Cult of Hades?  If they didn’t go to save their loved ones, all of them, then they would be killed.

Azu clenched her fists tight.  Grizzop just stood there, acting like the world would fall in an instant if he didn’t try to stop it.  Foolish. But she shouldn’t have expected anything else from the Artemis lot.

Of course she knew that their current mission was important.  It was a major setback to have to leave the factory as it was, but Emeka and the others could dieifsomeone didn’t do what needed to be done to save them.  And if Azu had to be that person, then she would be.

Emeka knew that love came first.  He understood that when she left their village in the first place.  And Azu remembered her oath to Aphrodite.

As much as she wanted to finish the task at hand, to destroy the factory and stop more simulacra from being made, she racked her mind for any knowledge she had of Rome.  There was a long journey ahead of them.

~~~

Then Azu noticed the tears in Grizzop’s eyes, tears he tried to blink back as he looked at anything and everything but her.

“Grizzop,” she said softly. “We’ll rescue them.  All of them, okay?”

“Please.”  Grizzop never sounded or acted his size, but in that word, he was smaller than he ever was before.  With a cough and a shake of his head, he puffed out his chest and, in a clearer voice, added, “I know you will.  And I’ll take care of things here.  We both have our own jobs to do.”

Azu nodded.  “And we both have our own oaths to fulfill.”

With a toothy smile, Grizzop met her gaze.  “Thanks, Azu. I’ll meet up with you all when I can, yeah?  And tell Vesseek… tell them…”

“I will.”

Grizzop gave one last nod and then climbed up to the top of the funnel with an adamantine arrow between his teeth.  He didn’t need to worry about Vesseek – Azu was on her way, and she would never let anything happen to them.

Day 5 of @the-line-is-erased:Cairo - Mistakes - Noble dragons don’t have friends.

“I understand that you were there when Aziza died.”

Hamid hated how small his father made him feel.  It was a different kind of smallness than being around someone like Bertie, who was huge and imposing physically.  Hamid’s father had a piercing gaze that cut through to his bone and a tone that could quell a storm.  

“Yes, Father, I was.  I was there with my friends, my mercenary group.”

“And you couldn’t save her?”

Hamid wrung his hands.  “We tried.  There was a lot going on, there was a necromancer, and…  It was a horrible accident; it shouldn’t have happened.  She shouldn’t have been in the crossfire.”

Saleh huffed.  “I see.  Just another of your mistakes then.”

All of Hamid’s breath left him in an instant.  Saleh turned and left, but Hamid forgot how to move his feet.  The only movement he could muster was the pounding of his heart, the quivering of his lip, and the racing of his mind.

“It was an accident!  A mistake!"  A younger Hamid yelled, standing over the shattered pieces of a priceless vase as his father glared down at him.  He had been racing through the house with his siblings, playing, as kids were want to do, but such childish behavior did not suit the heirs to the al-Tahan name, especially when they were so careless as to not watch where they were going.

"I don’t know what happened, it was an accident, I swear.”  This Hamid is a little older.  He could still feel his fingers tingle with the warmth of the first fire spell he ever cast, the first manifestation of his magic.  It was a brotherly spat between himself and Saleh Jr, leaving a singed bit of wallpaper in their wake.  But there were to be no excuses for either of them when their father saw the mark.

“Father, I made a mistake.  There was an accident at university…”  It had only been a matter of months, but this Hamid felt lifetimes younger than the one replaying these memories in his head.  That was the coldest Saleh had ever been to him, as if he wasn’t already chastising himself enough internally.

Or at least, it was the coldest he’d ever been to Hamid until he let Aziza die.

In the suffocating miasma of disdain that Saleh left behind long after he stepped away from that conversation, Hamid knew that he would never prove himself to his father.  All he could do was try to prove worthy to himself.

~~~

As Hamid and the others climbed onto the rooftop, the infected city of London below them, he felt the chill of fear race up his spine.  This was it. 

In the back of his mind, he heard the faintest melody.

“Thank you, Aziza,” he breathed almost silently.  “I may be seeing you soon.  But… let’s finish this.”

And as Hamid faced down dragon fire, he knew that he might never make up for his past mistakes, but at least he could do right in that moment.  Whether or not his father would ever see his worth was his problem.  Hamid knew who he was.  

And with Aziza singing to him from beyond, he was the one who would help them save the entire world.

Day 4 of @the-line-is-erased: Prague - Family - Those we stay with and those we choose to leave. 

Sasha wasn’t a hugger.  But as Zolf said he was leaving,  she had to hug him, as if she could hold onto him and keep him from going.

“Do you have to?” She asked into his collar as they embraced, hating how weak she sounded.

“I need to figure some things out. And I’m no good to any of you in this state.”

Sasha squeezed him a little tighter.  “You’ve always been good to me, though.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But you’ll be alright.  And this doesn’t have to be goodbye.  I’m just taking a break to sort out myself and my faith after all that Mr. Ceiling nonsense.  I’ll see you all again."  He paused.  "Maybe it’s better I don’t see Bertie again.  Just you and Hamid.”

“I’d like that.”

They pulled apart slowly, neither wanting to relinquish their grip on the other because that would make their parting real and not just some nightmare they could abandon upon waking.  

“Hey, take this."  Zolf removed the driftwood dolphin from around his neck and held it out for Sasha.  "To remember me, until we see each other again.”

“But isn’t it important to your whole Poseidon thing?”

“Poseidon can sod off.  I don’t know what I believe anymore, but I do know that I’d rather you have it.  Mad as I am at the concept of divinity right now, it still meant a lot to me, and you mean a lot to me too, so…"  His voice trailed off and he looked away from Sasha, though he still held the pendant in an outstretched hand. 

"If you’re sure,” she said.

Zolf nodded, and Sasha gingerly took the dolphin from him.  She ran her fingers over the smooth wooden surface, then looked back over at Zolf. 

“See you around, then, boss?”

“I’m not your boss anymore.”

“That’s not the point.”

Zolf smiled.  “I know.”

~~~

Some time in the past, Sasha sat on the roof of the villa, her feet dangling over the edge.  As she watched the sun descend, she took a driftwood dolphin, unmarred by time, out of her pocket and traced the wood grains with her fingers.  One day in the future, a good friend would give the pendant to her and promise that their parting wasn’t goodbye.  And though Sasha would have to wait multiple centuries, she looked forward to the day she would get to see him again.

Day 3 of @the-line-is-erased:Paris - Goodbyes - The crack in the ceiling bringing the house down.

“Oh, and thanks for the room.  You know it’s too much for me, but it’s nice, yeah?  Feels like you could fit half of Other London in it, there’s so much space! And there’s this metal person who keeps following me around and knocking on my door.  The gargoyles are well good, though.”  

Sasha sat beside a brain in the heart of Mr. Ceiling.  She didn’t know which one was Brock’s, and she wasn’t sure she really wanted to either, because that would make it real.  He’d been taken, killed, and assimilated into the necromantic monstrosity of brains around her, but if she didn’t see any part of him, sometimes she could pretend that he was still out there, still exploring the world and living the life they once dreamed of.

“Sitting on the roof with them, reminds me of our favorite hiding spot,” she said, talking to the brain. Whether or not it or Brock could hear her, she didn’t know, but she still told it of all her adventures since leaving Other London.  Surely Brock remembered her?  He bought her the Presidential Suite, and Mr. Ceiling seemed fond of her.  But that wasn’t the same.

“I miss that,” she murmured, brushing her fingers against the glass.  “I miss spending time with you.  Like, yeah, Other London was horrible, but you always made it better. I…”  Sasha let out a quiet chuckle to herself.  “We both know there’s no good from thinking about ‘what if’s’ and all that.  But… I regret not getting to say goodbye.  I wish we could’ve had a proper send off.  I mean, obviously I wish you’d actually gone off to have a better life above ground and all that, but that’s too farfetched for people like us.  Just a goodbye would’ve been nice.”

She continued to sit for a while longer, silent as the whir of machinery surrounded her.  Trapped in Mr. Ceiling’s lair, there wasn’t much else to do, so she visited that brain often, having decided that it was as good a point of contact as any to Brock, though most of the time she said nothing. If she closed her eyes and tried to drown out the noise, she could almost pretend they were back in Other London, sitting on their favorite rooftop.  

But when Hamid frantically hit at the controls and Mr. Ceiling began to collapse in fire and the cacophony of screeching metal, Sasha knew there was no more pretending.  As they raced out of the basement, she stopped one last time at the entrance to the brain room, even as Zolf on her back told her to keep moving.

She lingered in the doorway for a moment longer.

“Goodbye, Brock.”

And then she ran.

Day 2 of @the-line-is-erased:The Channel - Travel - To catch a breath; to rest and relax.

“Boss, what happened to your stuff?”

Zolf glanced over at Sasha. They were in the back of a cart on their way to Paris after Doris’ car exploded.  Sasha was midway through munching on a carrot and looking at Zolf cautiously.

“I pitched it.  When I dove in to get you,” he answered.

She took a bite of carrot and looked away.  “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.  It’s just stuff.  I can get new armor and another mace, and Poseidon got my trident back to me.” Zolf ran his thumb along the smooth metal.  “Those things I can replace.  There’s only one you.”

Sasha didn’t reply, but it was clear her mind was spinning faster than the lightning elemental in the tiny sparking horse car they’d just destroyed.

“You’re more important than some things, Sasha,” he insisted.  He’d never been good at the emotional side of things, but this needed to be said.  “Even if it wasn’t me that dragged us out on that damn boat in the first place. I’d still dive in after you. You’re worth being saved.”

“But… you almost drowned too.”

Zolf shrugged, and Sasha sighed, shaking her head.

“If I’m worth being saved, or whatever, which, well…”  She mumbled some disconnected words to try and refute the statement without outright saying so.  “What I mean is, you’re worth being saved too.  And like, yeah, I’m grateful you went in to get me and help me.  But… sometimes I think you don’t care about yourself as much as you should?  There’s only one you, too.”

Sasha watched him out of the corner of her eye as she spoke.  Once she’d finished, Zolf nodded slowly, realizing that she’d read him like an open book.

“Yeah, maybe I do tend to dive into problems headfirst – this time literally.”  He saw Sasha chuckle, and he couldn’t help but smile at that.  “And I know we both have a hard time thinking we’re worth being saved at all.  But… I know you’re worth it, and if you think I’m worth it, then, well… I guess I better start trying to believe that. Because maybe there’s something in me that’s still worth saving.”

“I’ll remind you if you ever forget it, or have trouble seeing it,” Sasha said.

“And I’ll do the same for you.”

Zolf reached out a hand for Sasha, thinking that he would put it on her shoulder to reassure her, but he hesitated.  He knew she didn’t like to be touched, and he didn’t want to betray her trust, especially after the moment they just had.

It didn’t matter, though, because Sasha saw his indecision and took Zolf’s hand in her own. She gave it a quick but kind squeeze, then released him and grabbed another carrot for the rest of their ride into Paris.

They didn’t speak much for the remainder of their trip, and Zolf didn’t mind that at all.  Sharing the silence was a calm moment of peace in the center of the storm.  And when the hurricane came raging forth again, leaving Zolf suffocating in its wake, he would remember Sasha.  If that scraggly kid from Other London thought there was something of worth inside of him, then he had to keep going, keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Whenever that hope truly began to waver, he could still hear her voice in his head and remember the feeling of her hand on his, and he knew he would make it.  For Sasha.

I’m a day behind, but here’s Day 1 of @the-line-is-erased:London- Seeds - The time before our story began; the time after it ended.

Hamid barely recognized the entryway amidst the rubble and decaying roots that still clung to every surface even if their omnipotence was no longer intact.  With a faint smile and a shake of his head, he made his way to the door which was hanging off its hinges and stepped inside his old apartment.

His days at university seemed like a lifetime ago.  Parties with his friends – or, more accurately, the people he wanted to impress so that they wouldn’t make him a target of their harassment – had caused their fair share of damage to the apartment, but he never cared back then. He’d just have someone clean up the mess so that he could continue to live in blissful ignorance.

But now the place was falling apart.  A large root tendril broke through the ceiling of the living room such that anyone taller than Hamid would have to duck to navigate through the space.  The furniture was toppled and broken, and a thick layer of dust coated all that remained.

As Hamid stepped through the space, he felt something beneath his feet, and noticed that his selection of fine liqueurs had fallen and smashed into the floor.  In the shattered glass that littered the once plush carpet, Hamid could still hear Bertie’s ridiculous boasts, as if they echoed off of the shards after all this time.

Back when it was him, Bertie, Zolf, and Sasha, the place almost felt like a home, even if they only spent a few days there.  After he got kicked out of university, the apartment was hollow and empty, while also acting as a suffocating reminder that he would never be good enough for his parents, never be able to prove himself to his father.  But with all of them there, it was full.  Bertie always knew how to fill the space, certainly, but even with Sasha silently working on bombs (of all things!) in the corner and Zolf sulking in a chair though he never allowed himself to relax completely, the rooms finally felt lived in.

There!  There was still that mark on the wall from where one of Sasha’s bombs went wrong and poofed in her face, a bit of soot still marking the occasion.  And over there, that was where Zolf nodded off and Bertie startled him, making Zolf stab out wildly with his trident and hit the wall on accident.  And that chair, that’s the one Wilde was lounging in when they first met.

Hamid raced between memories and smiled at each one, until he tripped on a table leg and went crashing to the ground.  Collapsed on his knees, he started to cry.  The world was so different now.  Bertie and Sasha were gone, and Grizzop too, though he never got to spend any time there with the rest of them.  Their memories were all he had left.  And Zolf was still around, but he was different.  Though… Hamid supposed he was different now too.

He knew he was a better person than he was when he lived in that apartment.  He’d just helped save the damn world, for goodness’s sake!  But he looked back on the times they’d had there, and, for the slightest moment, he wished that he could relive them and truly commit them to memory so that he would never forget.

As Hamid crawled back to his feet and made to leave the apartment, giving it one last look, he smiled again.  It had been a wild ride.  And even with everything he’d lost, the friends wrenched from his grasp, there’s nowhere else he would rather have been than in the thick of the adventure.  No matter what came next, he would always remember the family he made along the way and how they made any space a home.