The town of Oflen, home to many races, was not often a place that one would find the Dwarven race. Even still, the quaint and quiet town was home to a young Dwarf named Kithri. The streets were their playground, the gutters their resting place, and the locals their entertainment. This was how Kithri liked it, and, being the only Dwarf around, they learned at an early age the benefits of being low to the ground.

Sneaking around was never really a necessity for survival, but Kithri learned how to manipulate their stocky frame to be undetected to any passers by. It became a sort of game for them, seeing how many people Kithri could successfully hide from, and just how far they could push the envelope.

Kithri was born into a family, they think. They were orphaned before an age that allowed for solid memory. In reality, the only glimpse of their parents that Kithri could make out was by staring at their reflection in the river and imagining themselves as an older male or female. This never lasted long, though, as Kithri would come back from the daydream and cringe at the actual thought of themself as either gender. Obviously, they knew that gender was a concept that existed, but they never attached themself to either gender. Growing up Kithri didn't feel like a little boy or a little girl, but rather felt like they were beyond the concept. This got roped into their sneaking game rather quickly, as they would introduce themself and wait in anticipation to see what others would gender them as, often ending the conversation early when the other party grew confused by their seemingly random cackling.

When Kithri wasn't entertaining themself with daydreams and innocent trickery, they were sitting by the local forge, mesmerized by the craftsmanship of the swords, shields, and armor made from various different metals. The warm glow cast off of the gold, the almost-reflective sheen of the silver, the rainbow of colors that gemstones came in; the entire world of smithing was an enigma that Kithri wanted their own share of. At the age of ten, Kithri decided to use all of their practice sneaking around and fiddling with disposed machinery to attempt to break into the forge. In the dead of night, with only the occasional chirp of a cricket, Kithri made their move. The lock was harder to pick than they'd expected, yet they were eventually able to pick it open and open the door slowly enough to avoid the creak that they knew the hinges were prone to making. The world was their oyster after that day, and they would spend multiple nights a week acquainting themselves with the feeling of tools, gemstones, metals, and using scraps to craft various trinkets and small weapons. The weapons were so small, they weren't even very practical even for someone of such a short stature as Kithri. Still, this went on for three years until Kithri felt confident enough in their abilities, that they asked for an apprenticeship. The blacksmiths laughed, but still allowed Kithri to join them. What they thought would be a chance to finally get their hands on better materials quickly went south. The blacksmiths decided that Kithri would make a better errand person at their age, much to their chagrin. One year later, however, Kithri had managed to stash away a small amount of materials, little by little, until they could craft a proper weapon. Their semi-nightly trips to the forge were enhanced by their ability to now access better materials, undetected, during day trips to the miners. The sword that Kithri crafted was a thing of beauty; a golden handle, silver blade, and a sheath unique to Kithri alone. The sheath disguised the sharp blade as nothing more than a decoration. Made purely of soft and inexpensive moonstone, it would surely deter anyone from stealing it. Kithri decided to quit their apprenticeship only when he discovered theue next passion; one that they felt even more strongly about than smithing.

Kithri was no stranger to the bustle that happened on weekends in Oflen. The otherwise peaceful town would gather in the square and light up the night with music, laughter, and, of course, plenty of ale. It was on one such night as this that Kithri happened to look inside and lay their eyes on a magical sight.

Perhaps they were just too young to appreciate it at first, but Kithri loved how this place seemed to enchant the townspeople. He recognized the faces of some that often walked past them in the mornings, tired and melancholic, now with large smiles on their faces and warmth in their cheeks. The one thing that every one of the smiling faces had in common? They all just so happened to be holding a brown mug with a white froth sloshing above the rim.

Dwarves didn't reach their age of maturity for forty years and, at fourteen, young Kithri knew that this would have to be their next venture. Waiting for twenty-six years seemed agonizing, so Kithri began plotting. They didn't like breaking the law, but had done so before at this point. Breaking and entering as many times as they did in years prior would have definitely been enough to see a jailhouse or two, but the decision to do so was always justified to them. So long as nobody was hurt by their actions, was there harm in it? Accidents happen and things go missing all of the time, was it so wrong to take half an ounce of silver here and there? To Kithri, the law was important, but happiness and freedoms were much more just in some cases. Their plan came to fruition four years after the fateful day of discovering the tavern life.

The town of Oflen, home to many races, was not often a place that one would find the Dwarven race. Kithri had always known that, and used it to their advantage. Their status as a minority helped shape them into an impeccable rogue, and the town not seeing many Dwarves kept Kithri from being questioned when the then eighteen-year old lied their way into becoming a bartender. Later, they would go on to own the tavern known as The Golden Mug. Many years passed, and at the age of thirty-one, Kithri decided that a change of scenery was in order. There's only so often they could find joy and excitement seeing the same things and same people day in and day out. Their uncanny natural ability with bar tending was sure to land them a job elsewhere and, when eavesdropping in on a conversation at the bar top, Kithri learned of a mysterious town called Blade's Refuge. There was some sort of disappearance there, yet Kithri felt almost called to be there. They didn't know what would come of a life there, yet they still gave away their beloved tavern and packed up their things in the pursuit of change.

Seize the night;

It was made for us.

It was made to be the servant of our desire,

To bend before our will, to pander

To our whims.

Seize the night,

And hold it tightly; tie it

With the bonds of our love.

Let's bite it, scratch it, feast on it,

Until we're breathless,

Until we're exhausted;

Like it were only one night

With the craving for living

Another and another

Over and over again.

I am a butterfly that can experience

Eternity in one day, mea vita,

And, just like a butterfly

That chooses the most beautiful flower,

I will perch on your hips with a hunger

For nectar even if it's poisonous.

I would rather lose my mind

Than live without you.

In all of the books I've read:

Philosophies, doctrines...

I explored and could never find

That the greatest happiness is

In the delicious curve that goes

From your nape to your shoulder,

In the addictive attractiveness of your hands,

In the mesmerizing sound of your voice.

Anything that's yours is my delight.

I only yearn to seize this night with you

And let its essence pour into me,

Clinging to each instant, lingering on the bliss

Of our bodies encircling each other

In an eternal embrace.

If you are thinking about being in a relationship,

be prepared for the rotten fruit of their labors to pick your bones clean.

Your saccharine eyes will lure them in with their sugary glaze,

and then they will blame you for cavities that were already there, yet

You will stay.

You will stay because your tears will taste so good as they pool at your lips

that you will forget the bruises that were left on your lungs.

Your bones will become so brittle that the next time they tell you "just breathe,"

a rib may snap into your tender, empty stomach.

Skipping meals will become easier when you no longer have to hear death threats

if you dare to enter the kitchen at the wrong time.

When they insult your passions, it will be your fault

for seeing them as anything worthwhile.

You will stay because the next time that you say goodbye,

they will mail you their death certificate and cry "murder."

Every breath you take near them will fill your lungs with whisky tears

when they tell you to never leave.

You will stay because maybe you deserve it.

You will stay for so long that injected poison will leak from your veins,

and you will forget which of you held the needle.

They will convince you that you are a princess and numb your reactions

so that they can lock you in their home and call it your tower.

When you open your scars,

all they will see is an opportunity for target practice.

They will see that you own the exact ammunition

to fit the gun that they are concealing.

You will stay even when they morph into something inhuman before your eyes,

because they will still manage to be just the right amount of charming.

They will bring you on the deadliest ride you have been on,

and tell you that the restraints do not unlock.

A glowing exit sign will be visible seconds before it is too late.

If you are thinking about being in a relationship,

be prepared for the possibilities.

A blazing fire could be lurking behind a beautiful pair of eyes but,

so could a cool and gentle ocean breeze.

[Originally posted in 2019, on an old account]

Back in my childhood days, I would dream of when my time would come.

My mother would brush my hair and tell me about her blossoming ceremony. Family and only the closest of friends would gather outdoors and shower their loved one in fresh spring water, unearthing their first personal foliage. Flora would sprout from anywhere sunlight could reach. Heads, faces, arms, legs, shoulders, hands, feet, sometimes even ribs and backs. It was all so fascinating to me back then, and I used to crave the gardenias that my mother had on her thighs and the azaleas on her chest. I would braid her hair and color pictures of flowers and run in the grass barefoot.

When my time came, I was a late teen. I invited two of my friends to attend my ceremony and I fell to my knees upon being showered in cool water. My first blossoms were peach daffodils, a linear patch going down my left leg. Later, in my twenties, I received purple calla lilies that framed the back of my head as they sprouted. My thirties brought me two beautiful children and the same gardenias that my mother had on my stomach.

My mother fell ill in my mid-thirties and her flowers wilted three months later. My tears grew pink carnations that flooded my cheeks like freckles and her grave grew mossy. I still think about her when I look down, and it brings me solace that we share blooms.

I look to the future, excited for my children's first ceremonies; excited to see what kind of people they become and how their flora reflects their experiences just as mine have. My daffodils, marked as a renewal from when I had finally found myself and was comfortable in my own skin. My lilies, ever so vibrant, shown the passion I felt for my partner that I was already certain I’d grow old with all that time ago. Gardenias that represented strength grew clustered on my stomach after I finally welcomed my beautiful children when we were told there was a low chance that they would make it. The carnations upon my face, I firmly believe, were my mothers parting gift to me. We still are unsure of how we came to grow these natural beauties but, I know that my mother gave them to me. I always get asked how this could be, and I tell them that the pink carnation carries the meaning of a mother’s undying love. I carry her with me everywhere, and all that I ever hope people see now when they look at my face is just that: a flower that will never truly wilt even after I am gone.

Love.

You cannot win against someone who has nothing to lose.

Sound cannot travel in the vacuum of space.

Screams mean nothing to a person with no ears.

Tears mean nothing to a person with no eyes.

Nights spent awake mean nothing to a person with one foot in their grave.

A malnourished body will still perish if force-fed.

A caterpillar will no more quickly turn to a butterfly

If you clip another's' wings.

Someone who is ill will no more quickly heal

If you expose yourself to an illness as well.

Sometimes, love is parasitic.

You cannot drive if you are running on empty.

Risk does not always equal reward.

If you are tired, you should take a break.

Some people are not always healthy to be around.

The loss of a friendship will hurt.

The loss of a friends life will hurt more.

Do not intertwine yourself in others' demons.

Can you believe it has come to this, and after all this time?

One day, we will be free to come together once more.

Recordings replaced faces, text replaced touch, fantasies replaced reality.

Elope with me, darling, I am so tired. Let's leave this all behind.

You and I, together, can leave this great sadness in our wake.

[Originally posted in 2019, on an old account]

Miriam Donovan woke up on Tuesday morning the same way she always did. Stretch, coffee, feed the dog, social media. After a short while of scrolling, she noticed a status update from her sister, Serena, that was written in all capitalized and bolded lettering.

“THE END IS NEAR”

Several comments followed, full of their family and Serena’s coworkers and friends laughing, calling her crazy, and otherwise mocking her cryptic message. It was always the same story with Serena, and Miriam began to break out in a cold sweat.

“The end is near?” Miriam mumbled, hunched over her laptop reading the various comments.

“Serena I know you work at a coffee shop but I think it’s time to lay off the espresso,” one of her friends commented twenty minutes ago.

Miriam was on the fence about the situation and whether she should brush this off as truly too much caffeine or pursue her sisters eerie message. Serena considered herself a seer. She claimed since they were in the seventh grade that she ‘just knew’ what was going to happen and, sure enough, her tellings always showed themselves to be true.

Serena had predicted world events, she had predicted deaths, she predicted the weather, she just seemed to know everything that there was to know in the Earths timeline. However, she had also been known to make mountains out of molehills. Miriam recalled when they were in their sophomore year of high school and Serena had already shown just how accurately she could see into the future. Serena had told her that she was going to die in the next week and, four days later, her boyfriend broke up with her.

Miriam let out a quiet, breathy laugh as she closed her laptop and rolled her eyes. After taking a boiling shower and getting dressed for the day, she called her mother on the phone. The dial tone rang a few times before she answered.

“Hello?” Miriam's mother, Judy, sang into the phone.

“Mom, are we still on for brunch? I haven’t eaten so we can really get our moneys worth,” Miriam chucked. Judy was always on a budget and, if they would go out to eat, always made sure her kids were good and hungry so that nothing would turn into leftovers and be wasted.

“Oh! Yes, yes, let me brush my teeth and grab my purse and I’ll meet you there. No need to wait, just order me a cappuccino!” Judy frantically yelled a bit too loud into the phone and Miriam could hear her shoes thudding against the tile floor.

“Mom please don’t rush yourself, you’ll get hurt that way. Take as much time as you need. Oh, and did you see what sis posted online this morning?” Miriam paced around her kitchen alternating from looking at her dog, Jackson, to out her window. Her mother was still frantic it seemed, though thankfully she had slowed her pace.

“I did! I wanted to ask you about that, but I’m going to get ready and we can talk about it when we get there. Love you, Mimi!” Judy spoke fast, almost so fast that Miriam wondered if she could breathe.

“Love you too mom, see you in a bit. No rushing! I want you there in one piece!” She laughed and the two of them hung up.

“Alright, Jackson, be a good boy. Mama will be back later!” She called to the husky as she finished getting ready, grabbing her purse and heading to the car.

__________________________________________

Judy rushed into the restaurant, quickly found her daughter, and went to sit down on the opposite side of her in the booth.

“Had you forgotten?” Miriam laughed, sipping her glass of lemon water.

“I just got so distracted with the laundry and feeding your father, honey, I just lost track of time. I hope you haven’t been waiting long!” Judy swept her gray hair from her face and took a long swig of her coffee, breathing deeply.

“I see. I just got here almost ten minutes ago. I did want to ask you about Serena before I forget, though,” Miriam skimmed the menu, flipping each page over and back, deciding what to order.

“Oh yes, I was hoping you would know what’s going on,” Judy said, concerned. She hadn’t began to even look at the menu yet.

“No. I know you don’t believe in the supernatural, but what if something is actually going to happen and she knows something that we all don’t?” Miriam looked up to meet her mothers gaze.

“Sweetheart, your sister has made some rather shocking predictions and maybe gotten lucky a few times, yes. I think if she won’t elaborate on it, she’s just having a bad day. Not everything she posts is all that serious, Mimi. I personally think that she’s doing this to get attention, but who’s to say?” Judy dug her reading glasses from her purse and began flipping through the menu as well, leaving Miriam no less puzzled as she had been when she first saw the message.

"Should I call her? I mean the only way to know what her motives are is really just to ask her. On one hand I feel like she’s just overreacted about something like she did in high school when Joseph broke up with her. On the other hand, though, what if something sinister is going to happen and we never find out because she won’t publicly say anything?” Miriam dug her phone out of her bag and began dialing her sisters number.

“You can do whatever you want. I do think talking to her is a wise idea. Not sure if she’ll be able to hear you with all of this commotion, though. Step outside if you need. I’ll wait for you before I order,” Judy placed her napkin in her lap and took another small sip of her coffee. With a nod, Miriam hit talk and walked outside, plugging one of her ears to shield from the speakers. She heard a sound like the line had been answered, but no one spoke on the other end.

“Hello? Serena? It’s me, your sister?” Miriam waited and eventually, her sister did speak.

“Hey M, I really need you to listen to me okay? I saw something and-”

“I know, I know, the end is near. What did you see? This better not be something blown all out of proportion! You’ve given me quite a scare today!” Miriam scolded. Serena kept speaking then like she hadn’t even said anything.

“I saw something and I really think we’re doomed here. I had just woken up and I know this is going to sound insane, but all I could see was death and destruction and blood. There were helicopters and airplanes flying in the air dropping things to the civilians and it really looked like the end of the world. The end of humanity at the very least. It’s going to happen very soon. Like within a week, soon!” Serena was almost yelling loud enough for her voice to be heard outside of Miriam's cell phone, and Miriam just stood there trying to process the tidal wave of information being shoved to her all at once.

“What are you talking about, Sera?“Miriam asked, dumbfound. She tried desperately to find some way to string the story around into something less horrific.

“Did you not hear? We’re like, all going to die! I saw it! I saw the bodies! I saw the people flying above killing the people on the ground!” Serena shouted with a panic-stricken voice.

“Well just calm down! Could this be something small disguised as something big? I don’t know, like a demotion at work or a family or friends death?” Miriam scoffed, refusing to believe that something more catastrophic was indeed coming for humanity.

“No! I know what I saw. I typically know when I’m being overly dramatic, and I haven’t even really been that way in quite some time! Before you ask either, this was not a nightmare. I was awake. I woke up and sat up in bed when I saw it all. Nobody believes me, which I suppose is understandable. Seeing the end of the world isn’t exactly a thing that happens, y’know? I thought though that at lease you of all people would believe me, M!” Serena was in a full blown meltdown, and Miriam had frozen in her stance in front of the restaurant.

“Well did you see anything else? Surely there has to be more! You’re trying to tell me the world is just doomed and your silly little superpower only thought to warn us a week in advance?” Miriam hollered. Old couples walking into the restaurant stared at her like she was from another planet, but in that moment Miriam felt like the world really was closing in on her. As she sat down on a bench and put her head down, she felt her mother walk up and stop in front of her, her short heels the only thing in sight.

“No, M. I don’t think we’re getting out of this one. This isn’t like a serial killer that we can go to the police about. This is a full on apocalyptic scenario. I don’t think anyone is going to get out of this one. I think we’re done,” Serena said with a certain numbness to her voice. It was as if she had just given up as quickly as she had spiraled into hysterics.

“So you’re telling me now I have to just sit here knowing that we’re all going to die and I can’t even do anything about it? We can’t tell anyone? We just have to sit here and take it?” Miriam was the one who seemed to be going hysterical then, shifting in her seat and bouncing her legs as well. Her mother took a seat beside her and tried desperately to peer into her eyes and get some kind of a clue as to what was happening on the other end of the phone.

“You can try but I’m sure it’ll go just about as well as my vague post this morning. It was still really soon after I saw it all. Should I even bother making a longer post? Would anyone really take it seriously?” Serena sounded defeated and hopeless, like this depression had just swallowed her.

“Anything is better than doing nothing! I mean seriously, why am I out eating breakfast when this is all going to go down? Why am I wasting my time here when we could be trying to do something? If not now then when?” Miriam shouted, taking her mother aback. Judy furrowed her brows, mouth open just as confused as ever and slightly offended at the thought of her daughter blowing her off.

“M, I-” Serena started.

“Sera, seriously. I will drop everything and come over right now. Mom will too I’m sure. We need to think of something and we need to do it fast. There’s absolutely no time to waste!” Miriam shouted, scrambling to get up and grab her purse from her mother.

“M, I saw it again,” Serena said in a hushed tone.

“Well?” Miriam stopped in her tracks and turned toward the restaurant and her mother again.

“The government. The feds. They’re the ones. They’re coming for us. In planes, in helicopters, on the ground, they’re getting rid of us! They’re killing us off and starting a war to end all wars! The next world war, the one to wipe out humanity, it starts with us. With the civilians!” Serena's voice rose and rose until it was back in that familiar scream.

“Oh my god,” Miriam covered her mouth and placed her phone against her chest.

“Are you planning on explaining to me what’s going on? Both of you are scaring me senseless! I need to know what’s going on!” Judy hollered coming up to her daughter and grabbing her shoulders.

“We’re screwed,” Miriam replied with a deadpan tone and a teary eyed smile.

“Excuse me?” Judy asked with a short laugh.

Miriam did not reply and, instead, walked briskly away to her car.

Fire is supposed to bring fear but I have never felt more at peace.

Being surrounded by it, it feels like a dream come true.

For so long, I have sought it out; I have craved it, yearned for it.

Remember when you were told not to play with matches?

It was the best day of my life, to learn that I could control the fire.

I dug through the junk drawer at home in search for the magical sticks.

The power that one little match has; it's almost unfathomable.

A backyard fence burnt to ashes, the ground on either side slightly charred.

There is a beautiful irony to it all.

I remember being called crazy by my parents, the fear in their eyes.

I remember being called crazy by my friends, the laughter in their voice.

I remember being called crazy by my boyfriend, licking his lips.

Families always want to meet their child's partner, like it's a final exam.

"He may not be good for you, so we need to pass our own judgement."

Some people worry about first impressions, I worry about a plan failing.

Let's take some time to set the scene.

A family dinner; gloriously braised pork with carrots and potatoes.

A meeting between damned souls as they smile and shake hands.

My boyfriend sits down right next to me, making sure to squeeze my leg.

He always does that when he's nervous that I'll talk.

My parents wishing that they could be anywhere else than sitting across the way.

Dinner conversation is forced, laughter is calculated, comments are targeted.

I rise from the table, my emotions as unreadable as always.

My little secret is waiting to be shared from just up the stairway.

I look left, right, down the halls, from the foyer to the back door.

Out of sight, out of sound.

A bathroom excuse covers for me as I sneak to the top of my new viewing deck.

Creak...

Chit!

Whoosh!

---

Here I sit at an old wooden desk, it won't be long now.

Neighbors have seen the smoke, running out to the street, calling for help.

I look down at them from my bedroom window.

I am writing a final goodbye, to my parents, boyfriend, and police.

Their screams echo in the walls, the sound of their nails scratching for a way out.

The fire crackling, roaring, unrelenting from just under my feet.

I let out a sigh of relief as I write my final words, smiling.

News anchors will read the story of my "sickening crime" in their broadcasts.

I will already be far away from this realm, taking abuse and feeling pain no more.

A door,

Calling upon me at half past two.

I rise from my bed, notice the stillness of the night;

The eeriness of the silence, cut by a voice.

A voice so quiet, a whisper barely heard from just on the other side.

"Open this door and I will take you back."

There are no walls to connect this door and yet it stands.

The space behind the door appears empty, yet a call crept from the other side.

The floor feels like ice as I emerge from the comfort of feathers and cotton.

Curios, I step to the door and place a palm to the wood, feeling a light vibration.

The voice comes back at last, feeling almost as if the door itself is what is speaking.

Impossible.

"Be certain of the time you wish to revisit before opening.

Enter, and change your fate.

When you are satisfied, return to me.

All of the choices you make on this trip will be final.

Reversing what has already been reversed is not a possibility.

Everything that you lost, though, can be regained."

I close my eyes, imagining holding my love in my arms

That fateful night before everything changed.

Everyone expects the pain to have subsided,

But I know that it hasn't and

Deep down

I've been praying to whoever will listen for a do-over.

I clutch the knob, and open the door

Where I am greeted by her again.

"Took you long enough," she teases

And I let the tears fall.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"I've never been better," I reply.

We talk, like no time has passed.

We laugh at the stories we recount of the past.

We hold each other close for awhile, and then she says

"I should really get going. I have a train to catch."

My bones stiffen, my head spins.

"No!"

She looks at me, confused, chuckling.

The pale color of my face startles her.

"Talk to me."

"You can't go. Please, I got a horrible vision."

"I go on this trip every year. What's the problem?"

"Trust me. Wait one more day."

To my surprise and my relief,

She listens.

She is unsettled, but she re-schedules the trip.

I've done it and I bask in the glory of keeping her.

I see the door I came through out of the corner of my eye;

I decide to wait until morning.

In the middle of the night,

There is a disturbance.

From beside me, my lover convulses.

Inconsolable shrieking, her breathing rapid.

Her eyes are closed like she's sleeping,

And I desperately attempt to wake her.

Nothing; I shake her more.

Nothing; I cry out as the screams intensify.

Nothing; something is seen rising out from inside of her chest.

Nothing; blood as black as night envelopes her.

Nothing; silence comes, only interrupted by my own sickness.

Nothing; I sob into the phone as the ambulance arrives.

"Are you satisfied?"

No one can determine what happened.

"Are you satisfied?"

I cannot explain what happened.

"Are you satisfied?"

They found my prints on the murder weapon.

"Are you satisfied?"

I beg for them to listen, but they just think I'm ill.

"Are you satisfied?"

Take me back.

Please take me back.

This was a mistake.

I wanted to save her.

I needed to save her

To save myself.

"Are you satisfied?"