Category: Fall 2021

The world had progressed to develop many great things in technology — the self-writing pen, light-weight bulletproof clothing now available in regular day fashion, food production from oxygen, and now this: your very own “fear in a box” — an internet sensation so big, its producer, Mike Hentalburg, had overcome even Jeffrey Bezos. It was advertised only by influencers with the biggest follower counts. I heard they didn’t even get paid — it was all for the chance with the box. 

The box, I guess, was a way to identify your biggest fear, so you could later face and eliminate it. Apparently you just entered this kind of… void where you see it? I don’t know, I wasn’t really interested in all this stuff. Not until one day, when one of them showed up at my door.

I guess I had somehow signed myself up for some sort of giveaway, at least that’s what all the people with the cameras said. I didn’t know what to do with it. Did I really want to use this? How could there be so much in a normal-looking box? The packaging was kind of rough too. 

The thing is, I lived alone — no close friends, just neighbors. No coworkers too. I worked for myself. An introverted little writer, with no friends or immediate family. Seems sad. Well, I liked it, but it didn’t solve the problem of what I should do with this box.

Hmm. Might as well then, right? Could be fun, who knows. I opened the box, and I looked up to see my biggest obstacle. 

It was… myself.

“What? You have got to be kidding me. This is so cliche,” I groaned. 

“Who, me? Oh, I’m not your biggest obstacle,” Myself said with certainty. “That is.” Myself pointed somewhere else. I turned to see what he was pointing at, and I saw… a speck of light in the distance.

“So my biggest obstacle is a little bit of light off to nowhere?” I asked mockingly. Was this a joke? I thought I was going to find out my biggest obstacle, for it only to be a far-off light.

“Oh, no. That’s not it. It’s just really far away,” stated Myself, suddenly intensely eating yogurt. “Mmm, cherry.” He then looked at me in a what-are-you-still-doing-here type of way.

Great, now I had to do cardio.

I started running, wanting to make this quick. I had to stop a few times (chronic back pain).

I finally made it to the light. Why was this so hard?

“I have no idea,” Myself said, calm as always, answering my inner question (I guess he was myself). I still jumped back what seemed forty feet. Great, more running. This time Myself came along with me. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. To be fair, I also dropped my yogurt from your reaction…” I kept running, ignoring Myself. I needed to find out what this light was.

As I got within fifteen feet of it, I had to go closer because I didn’t bring my glasses. At two feet, I started to make out what it was. I slowed to a light jog. 

“A computer?” I whispered to myself. “What?” I looked back at Myself, and he was looking back at me with the same lightly confused expression, eating what seemed to be a banana yogurt. 

I went to open the laptop a little more. I then squinted as the light from the laptop tried to blind me. Forcing myself, I reached for the brightness button. Thankfully with just one click it adjusted perfectly. 

“It’s just… a Google Doc,” I mumbled to myself, and I guess also to Myself. I looked closer — it only had one word. “And it’s the only tab or anything,” I added. Huh.

“It’s only the word ‘to,’” Myself said to me over my shoulder, intrigued. I furrowed my brow. “‘To’ as in T-O.” I looked at the keyboard and found the pad. 

“How can the word ‘to’ be your—I mean, our greatest obstacle?” I slowly moved the cursor towards the “to.” “How — wait.” I clicked the end of the “to.” “Wait, wait!” And I went to press the space button. “WAIT, NO!” 

*Click*

My world imploded.

Too

Anita didn’t gain consciousness until the inventor’s Abilene was already gone; crippled with grief, the inventor took to improving his clocks. He worked day and night. Anita saw glimpses of the dusty old room, littered with scraps of metal where he worked. She heard stories about Abilene, the inventor’s late wife, and as time went on, Anita took on the personality of Abilene. The inventor made Anita on his honeymoon. On the inside of her lid was a piece of glass webbed with cracks. It showed an image of a young man and woman in a loving embrace in front of the Eiffel Tower. When Abilene died, the inventor, who once explored the seven seas and could never stay in one place, shut himself up in his house at the top of the hill, away from civilization, away from the past. He told himself every day that it was for the best, and eventually, he believed it. He forgot about the things he loved.

Anita set out to change him, make him happier, just like Abilene did. She started out by whispering to the inventor while he slept. He thought he had finally found a way to talk to Abilene, and he was ecstatic. She told the inventor stories about him and Abilene, stories that he once told her as she was being built. She had made a connection. Anita carried on and got the inventor to send a message down to the docks to buy tickets on the next ship. He was going back to Paris. Anita had seen the picture of the couple every day, and she knew that she had to see the Eiffel Tower, and so did he. So the next morning as they left the house, she felt relieved she had accomplished her first mission; she was going to see the places Abilene cared about, the places the inventor cared about.

When they got aboard the ship, it was a whole new world. One full of chaos, yelling, and many people. Anita wasn’t used to so many people — the only sound she had heard for the past eleven years was the ticking. The inventor made his way to a beautiful stateroom, and there was a large porthole that looked out on Nantucket. As the ship slowly pulled away from the coast, a feeling in the bottom of Anita’s gears started to grow. It was nervousness. She had never felt this before, but she liked it. It was new, refreshing compared to the boredom she had felt so far. The ship was far from the coast now, and Anita turned her attention to the inventor. He unpacked one of his bags, and to Anita’s dismay, it was full of metal scraps. Not a stitch of clothing. He had buried himself too deep in his work. Anita took this on as her next stage in the mission: the inventor needed compassion, other people, although this could wait until France.

The boat was lush with life. A whole new social scene that Anita had to become a part of. But while at the beginning it was magical and beautiful, the boat became a mess. After four days on the sea, it became wet and smelly. Children screamed with glee and ran about the deck as frantic parents ran after them and sailors skidded and jumped out of the children’s path. People were less enchanted by the sea as they were at the beginning of the journey. To make matters worse, the only view Anita got anymore from the porthole was people constantly leaning over the side of the boat, so green you could see it in their ears. Anita longed for the rose gardens back at home, the peacefulness of just her and the clocks. It was lonely, but it was controlled. But she made up her mind, there was no going back.

Meanwhile the inventor was still tinkering with scraps of metal. He didn’t know what to do with himself; he had Abilene talking to him back at home, but ever since he had gotten on the ship, he hadn’t heard a peep. What if he was going crazy?! He couldn’t go back to France, it would be too painful. As the boat finally moored on the docks of France, Anita and the inventor stepped off the ship with completely different feelings from each other. Anita was ecstatic but her nervousness was growing, while the inventor was plotting, plotting a way to go home. He had had enough of traveling and ghosts.

They were ushered off the boat and onto the mainland, where the inventor called for a carriage. The carriage was pulled by two beautiful black horses, and Anita was mesmerized. The horses’ coats were shiny and smooth. If Anita’s hands could come off her face, she would stroke them. But the inventor was unimpressed; he just climbed into the carriage and told them to go to the Hotel de Crillon. When Anita saw the horses, she was taken aback, so you can imagine how she was when she saw the Eiffel Tower. The glass on her face fogged up, and the cracks spread, almost impairing her vision. The inventor winced and looked down at his hand where a shred of glass had pricked him, and where Anita lay.

She tried to hold back her feelings, but she was too proud of herself. The tears in the inventor’s eyes told her enough, and as the carriage turned around the corner away from the Eiffel Tower, she sighed. But when Anita opened her eyes, she almost screamed. The inventor was looking at her, really looking at her. He had heard her. Anita went stiff and started to pray under her breath, and the inventor’s eyes widened. He knew it, he was going mad. Anita fumbled over her words, trying to explain herself, getting louder and louder. The chauffeur turned around and asked the inventor who he was talking to. The inventor’s ears went red and he quickly cast his head down.

“Pull over,” the inventor grumbled, “now.” Once the inventor was out and the carriage had left once more to take his luggage to the hotel, he turned back to her. “You can talk.”
For the first time in her life, the chatterbox clock was silent, but not for long. “You can hear me?” Anita’s breath got caught in her gears, making her voice sound deep and gruff.

“Yes, apparently everyone can. I’m guessing you’re the Abilene impersonator. That is why we are here in France. But I don’t understand why or how. Let’s go somewhere private.” They moved across the plaza and into the shade of a tree out of earshot and sight from people walking by.

“I am sorry for tricking you. Your life is just so sad, all your friends left you when you moved up the hill, and you just talk to your clocks, and they don’t talk back. Plus, you used to have an interesting life full of adventure. Yes, I know you are grieving, but you need to get back into the world… ” Anita stopped rambling on when she noticed the inventor’s face. He looked sad, embarrassed. She couldn’t have felt more terrible about herself.

“I have a life,” the inventor said quietly. “I talked to the milkman just last week. Plus, I didn’t know the clocks could hear me. There is nothing for me to do. My only plan of what to do when I got older was derailed when she died.” His words slowly died off, and he looked into the distance, blinking, trying to get rid of his tears. Neither of them expected the trip to go this way, and it was very unsettling. An awkward silence fell upon them, and they just walked. The inventor held Anita by her chain instead of her base like usual, and she tried to stay as still as possible. Finally, after a couple of minutes that felt like hours, they arrived at the hotel.

The Hotel de Crillon was rich with history, and the life around it was still lively and diverse. Even though it was everything Anita had ever dreamed of, she couldn’t help but feel detached from the whole experience. Like she was watching it from afar. The walk to the hotel confused Anita, made her question who she actually was and if this was what she wanted. She wasn’t Abilene, she couldn’t mend the inventor, make him happy, give him purpose. But without Abilene and her mission, who was she?

Meanwhile, the inventor was having his own midlife crisis. He couldn’t help but feel tricked, but he felt like he had been deceived. The whole charade made him feel like Abilene was there again, helping him, but he knew it was fake. The feelings that he buried alongside Abilene rose to the surface — grief, loss, love. He couldn’t give up the opportunity to get closure, to forgive, forget, and move on. As Anita lost her sense of self, the inventor found his, and as he strode out of the hotel room for the first time in eleven years, he didn’t feel lost.

Anita sat on the dresser, forgotten. The inventor had left her there. She tried to think on the bright side. She had made him happy, he had to forgive her sooner or later. Anita’s day was slow, agonizingly slow; the only interesting thing that had happened all day was the luggage being brought up. Anita tried not to worry about the inventor, but when he walked through the door, she felt more emotions than she ever had before. First she felt relief, but anger burst through her before she could even stop herself.

“Where were you?” she screamed. The inventor slowly turned around with a small bag in his hand.

“Buying some accessories, would you like to see?” He slowly pulled out a bracelet and turned it to face Anita. “It’s a wrist watch, they are new in fashion. I needed an upgrade, my old watch was… faulty.”
Anita was furious. She hadn’t changed, he just started to pay attention, and he was going to replace her. The inventor just chuckled to himself and slowly walked towards Anita. He slowly picked her up and dropped her in the hotel trash.

“I have a life, unlike you, and I intend on living it without you,” he said, stalking back to his bed and strapping the monstrosity he called a “watch” on his wrist. Anita tried to stay awake and watch the inventor to make sure he wouldn’t leave again, but once again a new feeling crept up on her: tiredness.

Anita missed the days where she was simply Anita, when she couldn’t feel, couldn’t get hurt. When Anita finally woke up, she was all alone, just as she had suspected and prophesized. Someone knocked on the door, and Anita’s gears skipped a notch.

“Room service!” A maid around the same age as the inventor walked into the room cautiously and looked around. When she was positive no one was home, she quickly made the bed and grabbed the trashcan where Anita lay. The maid looked into the basket and saw Anita and took her out carefully, holding Anita so she wouldn’t get cut by the cracked glass. Anita saw her chance and took it.

“Hello! I’m Anita, and I need your help. Who are you?” The maid screamed and flung Anita across the room. As Anita collided into the wall, she felt the remaining glass shatter and fall off in pieces. “Well, that was rude.”

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry.” The maid ran over and knelt down to hold Anita. “What are you?” She slowly turned Anita over and opened the lid. Glass sand fell out onto her apron, but she was more taken by the image on Anita’s lid. “Frederic?”

“Who? Do you mean the inventor? Do you know him? Can you take me to him? He is probably at the Eiffel Tower, please… ” Anita was stumbling, words were pouring off her tongue faster than she could think of them. The maid didn’t respond; she just gathered her skirts and pocketed Anita and walked out the room, shutting the door behind her. Together, they practically ran to the Eiffel Tower. They crossed across the Seine, and eventually they arrived.

The inventor wasn’t that hard to spot. He sat on a bench staring at a sketchpad, a charcoal pencil held limply in his hand like an extension of his hand. He was so completely lost in his art that when the maid ran up to him, he didn’t notice. The maid tapped him on the shoulder and when he looked up, recognition flooded his eyes.

“Jeanne.” He quickly stood up, and his papers slowly fell to the ground. He was so caught up in the moment, a flash from the past. Anita, on the other hand, wasn’t as taken by the moment. While she was happy about the inventor, she was fixated by the sketches that lay on the dusty road. They pictured a beautiful statue with her arm raised above her head holding a torch. The inventor had sketched a name at the top of the paper: Lady Liberty. Anita longed for it. She always knew there was more meant for her, she was destined for something more, this was it.

Fredric and Jeanne sat on the bench, hands clasped together as they reminisced about when they were young. When they were in their teens, they fell in love, but it didn’t work out. The inventor fell right back in love. The hole that had eaten away at his heart was filled. He felt complete, truly happy.

***

After a couple years of traveling the world with Jeanne, the inventor proposed, and they moved back to Nantucket where they lived out the rest of their lives as key members of the community, happily in love. Anita got her wish and was built into the Statue of Liberty, where she welcomed people from all over the world into America, and even as hundreds of years passed, she remained a key symbol of freedom and opportunity. As for me, I remained where I had been since the beginning of the story, and where I would stay forever, part of something bigger, no longer the Abilene of this story. But I will always love him, which is why I have been watching my dear husband fall in love, and the impersonator who I can’t help but feel indebted to for making the love of my life happy once more.

Editor’s Note: Content warning — Suicide

***

Dear little ladybug, 

By the time you read this, I will be gone. I didn’t mean to leave you. I love you, but I won’t be coming back.

Sincerely,

Friend 

Laura

Friend was always going to go this way. I mean, if she was going to go at all. At least she had left a note. She probably wasn’t going to leave one, but then maybe she thought of me, and maybe that tempted her to write one more thing.

But not suicide? When I found this note taped to my window as I woke up this morning, I thought the worst had happened. I mean, as soon as I had read it, I ran the ten blocks down to her house as fast as my legs would carry me. My short curls flew behind me, and I nearly fell on my face running up the four crooked steps to her door. I had run up those steps my whole life, and I’m sure I have tripped over those rotting boards countless times. But this time, it felt like it wasn’t me. Like I was out of my own body. Almost like I was watching a stranger run up the steps to her friend’s house, just to find that she had killed herself.

Robson came to the door, as usual. He appeared in his normal disheveled state. His hair was in its state of permanent messiness and his tank top was untucked from his dirty jeans. He probably had just woken up. I knew I hadn’t woken him up, because if I had by knocking on the door, he sure as hell wouldn’t have gotten out of bed for that. But he would have recognized by now how I knocked on the door, and he usually didn’t answer the door for anyone else other than me and Friend.

He took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke in my face. Ugh. I didn’t check the time before I ran out of the house, but I knew it was too early in the morning to be smoking that shit. 

“What are you wearing?” he asked, as he looked me up and down with an expression of amusement on his face. 

I must have been a sight. I wanted to get over to Friend’s house as soon as I could, so I didn’t even change. I was still wearing my feathery nightdress, and I had squashed my feet into my rain boots that were lying next to my bed on the floor. I was wearing an old jacket that had actually been Robson’s at one point, but eventually wound up with me when Friend didn’t want it anymore. 

“Is Tuesday awake?” I asked impatiently. 

“You know she wakes up at the crack of dawn. That little shit made such a racket going out the back I’m surprised it didn’t wake you up.” 

That’s when I realized how she had left. She didn’t want anyone to know, so she didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. It was probably just our secret. Friend and I had a lot of secrets that were just for us, and I knew when Friend wanted to have a secret kept. Didn’t mean I ever knew why, though. 

“Sorry, umm,” I fumbled, trying to come up with a lie. The thoughts and questions swirling around in my head weren’t letting any coherent sentences come out of my mouth. “I just wanted to give this back to her.” I took off my jacket and handed it to him. 

“I haven’t seen this thing in a while,” he said almost wistfully. “Why are you giving it back?” 

“I just thought she might want it.” My little lie was coming apart. 

“What’s actually happening, bug?” he tilted his head and looked at me. Not too many people called me “bug.” He was one of the few. As far as he was concerned, that was my actual name. I mean, he knew my given name. But he never used it. 

“Just take the jacket.”

He rolled his eyes, took a drag from his cigarette, and closed the door. I shakily sat down on the steps, even though they were still wet from last night’s rain. Where did she go? My mind continued spinning. She didn’t tell anyone, she just left. We had both gone through our fair share in life, but what in her finally snapped? What made her go? But I knew one thing. Tuesday Adelson didn’t kill herself. She couldn’t have.  

***

I walked back up the street to my house, slowly. Stepping in all the puddles I saw. It had started to rain lightly, wetting my face and hair. The early morning sunshine cast its light onto my bare, freckled arms. It was raining, but it wasn’t overcast. That was my favorite weather. Sun showers. No one was outside yet except for one or two cars driving down the street.

I tried to clear my mind, but how could I? How could I calm my thoughts when every spot on those streets had times spent with Friend? Times spent with Tuesday. Now that she was gone, all the memories of her were flooding my head all at once. I mean, it would have been one thing for me to have just found out that she had left. Robson probably would have come to tell me or asked me if I knew where she was. But it was just that she left a note. She confirmed it herself that she wouldn’t come back. And I was the only one who knew. It hurt a little more this way. A lot of things had hurt both of us, and it was all good and well for her to run away from it. But then she left me with it. Damn her.

I stopped walking and looked down at the small handprints on the sidewalk. This was where I first met Friend. I walked by these handprints every day, but I never stopped to think about the past. To go back in time. It was raining harder now, but I still sat down on the wet sidewalk in front of the hollow hand prints. My hands were so much bigger than those prints were. I couldn’t remember life before Tuesday, but I remembered the day I met her so vividly. 

I think I must have been four or five. It was raining just like it was now. The sun was out, but it was pouring. I remember running out the back door of my house. This part is a bit more hazy, almost like a dream. I mean, you would probably think you were dreaming if you found your older sister hanging in the basement. I didn’t know what was happening — I was only four, after all. I just remember being scared. And running out into the crying sun. I hid behind a big tree where I sat for hours in the rain. I didn’t cry. I just watched the little ladybugs march along in the wet grass. They didn’t care about the rain. They were just enjoying the golden glow before the sun was going to set. I was sitting there for so long. They must have thought I was a part of the grass and the trees and the flowers littered around my feet. If I had stayed there forever, flowers might start to grow and blossom up through my skin. And the grass would grow up, entangling with my arms and legs, rooting me to the ground. And I would have remained a little girl, frozen in time and in the earth. I may have stayed there forever.

If it weren’t for Tuesday. I remember hearing yelling coming from a block or two down. And then I saw her. She was spinning around in the middle of the road with flowers and grass tangled in her hair. But she kept looking back over her shoulder at where the yelling was coming from. Almost like she was trying to ignore it or hide from it somehow. She kept getting closer and closer to me, when all of a sudden, she tripped and fell on the grass. I watched as she slowly picked herself up and looked at her hands. I finally decided to pipe up. 

“Are you okay?” I asked in my timid voice. 

She jumped at the sound of my voice. I think I had startled her. But she took a moment to carefully look at me. 

“Why are you hiding?” 

I didn’t really fully realize I was hiding until she asked me that. I didn’t know how to answer that question, so I just shrugged my shoulders. She looked at me a little longer, so I looked at her. I remember first noticing her golden hair glowing in the light and her hazel green eyes that have not aged with time, even today. You can still see a child’s soul in those green eyes now. Then I remember she reached out her hand, the hand that was scraped and bloody from her fall. I took it, and she pulled me out of the shadow of the tree. I still had ladybugs crawling on my arms, and by now the rain had stopped, but I was still soaked to the skin. 

“Little, little ladybugs,” Tuesday started singing lightly to herself. “Little lady…” 

She sort of trailed off there. She was in a daze. Being four, I didn’t really think there was anything unusual about her behavior. Kids were supposed to play and act like they’re in a dream. I couldn’t believe I even remembered this much about meeting Tuesday, but the whole memory still felt like a hazy dream anyway. We sat there for a little while in silence, just being in each other’s company. Watching her golden hair, watching the ladybugs on my hands, seeing the scrapes on hers, watching the sun sink further into the sky. The day my sister killed herself was beautiful. Maybe that’s why it felt like a dream. Eventually Tuesday broke the silence. 

“Come with me.” 

She stood up and walked over to the sidewalk and sat down on the edge of the grass. I stood up, feeling the ladybugs fly off me when I stood. I sat down next to her and looked at her, waiting for her to say something, which she eventually did. 

“If you put your hands on the sidewalk, they’ll stay there forever.” 

The sidewalk in front of us had just been filled in. The cement was still wet. I remember putting our small, little hands out on the sun-kissed sidewalk. The wet cement felt weird, but we just sat there together. Sitting in silence as we made our mark on our block. The blood on her little hands mixed with the wet cement. We would never stop to look at those handprints. But they were always there. I don’t remember much of anything else about that day or the days after. I don’t remember the funeral; I don’t remember my mom’s endless tears; I don’t remember meeting my dad at that funeral; I don’t remember when my grandmother sank into her own grief. I know it all happened. I just simply don’t remember. All I remember is walking back into the house, shaking from the cold of the rain. I remember my mom wrapping her arms around my little body and crying into me, as if she were a child. I just remember saying in my little baby voice, “I found a friend.” 

And now where is she? How will I find her again? 

Trigger Warnings

• Death
• Animal Death
• Burning People (though not graphic)
• Death of a Loved One

Prologue

“Producat in flamma.” 

Clufa walked over to the edge of the cliff, a small flame flickering in her hands. 

“Junge currum suum fortitudinem.”

It began bouncing around her. Clufa didn’t mind. She was harnessing it, after all, so if it touched her, it would do nothing to her. She peered at the edge and saw the shadowy being.

Clufa didn’t bother to hide a small smile creeping across her face. She faced the man, and from behind her, she felt a cold chill. As she turned, Altzeroil let out a small breath.

“Facite hoc meum,” Clufa concluded. She grabbed the flame and, with a flick of her hand, an enormous flame appeared above her. She peered out to the edge of the cliff, and in an instant, she threw the flame towards the cliff. An\ huge explosion from the other side was heard, and Clufa could do nothing but grin.

As the smoke cleared, Hana walked over to the edge. A flower came onto her hand. She beamed at it. Clufa groaned, not having much more patience for her easily distracted little sister.

“Hana,” Clufa said through gritted teeth. “The wizard, remember?”

“Oh, um, right.” Hana quickly withdrew her flower. She stretched out her hand, and a large vine came from their cliff towards the other that Clufa had blown up.

Clufa heard a couple of shouts from the cliff, and she knew that they were planning on evacuating.

Altzeroil drew his staff, and instantly, a large trail of ice grew from their cliff to the other, creating two paths. They didn’t really need the paths, of course. Altzeroil was just doing that to be dramatic, because what would life be without that?

Altzeroil levitated from the ground and began floating to the other side. Hana followed on her own vines (she was the only one of the three who couldn’t fly), while Clufa, being the impatient brat she was, flew like a rocket to the other side. As soon as she got there, she found the closest human she could and grabbed their collar.

“Where is Divino?” hissed Clufa, a flame flickering in her hand, getting dangerously close to the human’s head.

“I — I know nothing!” cried the human. “Please, have mercy!”

“Mercy is for cowards,” Clufa hissed, and she dropped the human, letting him fall down through the fog. She faced the rest of the humans. “You have two opportunities: surrender Divino and die together, or I will destroy you all now and give you no chance to bid farewell to your loved ones.”

“Clufa, please!” Hana reached the cliff. “No one deserves to die alone.”

Clufa rolled her eyes. “Hana, just find Divino, and we’ll be over with this.”

Altzeroil reached the other side. He looked across the humans, grinning.

“Altzeroil, NO, we do not have TIME for this!” Clufa spat.

“Please, just one?” Altzeroil asked. “I haven’t tortured anyone in weeks, I want to torment just one of these humans.”

“Oh, Altzeroil, don’t be horrible,” hissed Hana. “These humans are merely trying to protect their home — they aren’t the ones we’re here for.”

“But if we can’t find him, what else are we going to do?” Altzeroil muttered. “We’ve been searching for weeks. I’m not in the mood to go looking again.”

“Then don’t,” a powerful voice echoed from the edge, and the three primordial wizards turned and saw Divino, standing with a strange magical aura surrounding him.

“Finally,” hissed Clufa, and she summoned her staff. “Occidere,” she said, and a blast of fire spewed from her staff and hit Divino… but his aura protected him.

Clufa roared in fury and flew over to him. She tried to manually strike him down, but the second she got too close, the aura around Divino blasted her backwards. She immediately got up.

“How is this possible?!” Clufa screamed. “You’re a MORTAL!”

“It seems we mortals are capable of more than you thought we were,” growled Divino. “Surrender, Shadow Legion, before I’m forced to use this.” He raised a small globe in his hand.

Clufa let out a small scoff. “You plan to trap us in the limbo dimension? Pathetic fool, don’t you know that we are the primordial wizards of the ELEMENTS? We cannot be defeated!”

“Correction — you can’t be killed,” said Divino. “You can, however, be defeated and locked away for millennia to come.”

“Then it seems all we must do is keep you from using that,” Altzeroil said with a grin. “From inside your protection aura, you are unable to use that thing. You must come outside to face us, and to do that, is to risk death.”

“Some things are worth risking,” snarled Divino, “so that you can’t bring out your genocidal apocalypse!”

“Your kind has abused the magic that we gave you,” growled Clufa. “You use it to torment other creatures and even some of your own kind. You do not deserve this power.”

“That’s hardly a valid excuse to destroy and remake everything!” Divino cried.

“Everything will be as it was, with one thing changed: you will no longer have magic,” Altzeroil explained. “Everyone will only be dead for a few moments, so calm down.”

“We can’t trust you, not after what you did,” Divino growled.

“Then get out of your shell and fight us!” Clufa yelled, more fire erupting from around her.

Hana hopped towards them, grinning.  A large vine carried her upwards, and she gazed down at her siblings and Divino.

Divino, to Clufa’s slight surprise, chanted an incantation and the aura around him vaporized.

Clufa wasted no time. She raised her staff and an enormous fire erupted from it, and it struck Divino.

However, Divino was prepared, and he conjured another shield to deflect her power as he conjured his item. Altzeroil noticed this, and flew over, attempting to grab it, but in the nick of time Divino grabbed Altzeroil and blasted him with the object.

Altzeroil was highlighted with white magic. He gave a yelp as his form suddenly vanished.

He’s in limbo, Clufa realized. That man… his magic worked!

“Altzeroil!” Hana cried, looking horrified.

Clufa let out a frustrated growl, but as she attempted to attack Divino once more, Divino leapt upward to Hana and attacked her with it too.

Hana immediately vanished as well and all her vines disappeared.

Clufa scoffed. “Looks like it’s just you, and me then. Once I destroy you, I will release my siblings,” she growled.

“If you destroy me,” corrected Divino.

“Or if I do,” another voice came from the sky, and Clufa looked up in time to see a woman encased in blue armor floating in the sky. She gazed down at them.

“TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH, ZADUS!” Clufa yelled.

Zadus came down to the ground. As Divino launched at her, Zadus simply grabbed his arm and held her hand inches away from his neck, holding a spell in her hand. “Surrender, Divino. You can’t overpower me.”

“We cannot let you unleash the titans,” Divino said.

“And you think you’ll be able to stop me?” Zadus questioned, stepping closer. “May I remind you that I have the power of the cosmos?”

“Then your weakness is down here,” Divino said, and he blasted Zadus with the object. Of course, it did nothing, but the second Clufa went to attack Divino, he leapt at her and her magic hit Zadus instead, suddenly encasing her in amber.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” cried Clufa. “HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS?!”

“Perhaps it’s destiny,” Divino admitted. “Perhaps the time of the primordial wizards has come to an end.”

With one more blast, a ball of light hit Clufa in the chest. Clufa had the luxury of seeing her spirit shoot up to a space unknown as her body went completely limp.

When Clufa opened her eyes again, she was in some white room. She saw Altzeroil and Hana in the room as well.

“What — what happened?” growled Clufa. “Where are we?”

“We are in the limbo dimension,” Altzeroil answered. “That wretched wizard put our physical bodies in stasis and imprisoned us here… It will take us millions of years to return to the physical realm, if we are able to at all!”

“Then we will wait for millions of years,” Clufa declared. “Zadus has been imprisoned in amber, and she won’t be released until we release her. We will wait until the balance of magic has been altered, and then… we will break free.”

“You know, on the bright side, we have each other,” Hana interjected. “And we can still use our magic here, and it’s just the three of us! So we can be as chaotic as we want!”

“That does sound fun,” Altzeroil admitted. “What do you think, Clufa?”

“I think this will be a long prison sentence.”

Chapter 1

That was the end.

I guess not the end of the story, because, well, you’re still reading.

But that was the end of the reign of the Shadow Legion… at least for now.

See, my name is Ash. I was a sorceress who lived about three million years after the reign of the Shadow Legion and have lived for about two thousand years since. Lucky me, right?

Not exactly. Since apparently I was violating the rules of “disrupting connection between magic, risking releasing ancient beings, blah blah blah,” I was imprisoned… no, not in an alternate realm, but in my own house.

Exactly how humiliating can a defeat be, especially for a powerful sorceress? I personally can’t see how it could be any worse than this.

But I’ve been wrong before, so I really don’t know.

Anyway, you’ve probably read a bunch of other stories about stuff like heroes saving their world from some kind of big threat that’s going to cause catastrophe, and the heroes are flawless and perfect snowflakes who are never questioned and always save the day.

And you probably find that annoying, don’t you?

Well, if you do, I have good news for you! I’m not biased towards the winning side. If you really want to know why books are always so biased towards the heroes, it’s because they’re the ones who won. But here I am, someone who lost, with no hint of bias towards those who’ve won!

Why?

Because, as you can guess, I’m a little irritated with how my life has turned out!!!

You know, trapped in my house, forced to give anyone who wanders here some blessed magic powers so that they can think they’re some precious little snowflake who has done no wrong.

But anyway, enough of that. I did my research, I stalked the limbo realm… and I know about the Shadow Legion. And I can tell you about them because I’m sure you’re wondering: what exactly happened to them? And is there any chance that they could come back?

In short, they were trapped in limbo to keep them from becoming titans and remaking the Fantiverse, and yes, there’s a very good chance that they’ll come back because a magical connection was severely altered in another world.

If you want a more detailed explanation of what’s happened, well, that’s what I’m here for.

So yeah. The Shadow Legion.

Clufa, Altzeroil, and Hana started by redecorating the limbo realm, at least the part of it they were imprisoned in. I guess they figured if they were going to be imprisoned there, they might as well make it just a little bit hospitable.

They each stuck to their own corner most of the time (except Hana, who had literally no regard for personal space, and honestly, I respect her for that) but had meetings in the center and often could temporarily break the connection between their plane of existence and the physical realm by communicating with those below.

Yes, limbo is above the physical realm. Don’t ask me why, I have no idea.

Anyway, so a couple of things happened in the million years they were imprisoned — namely that they did a LOT of manipulating.

And I mean, A LOT. All of them, even the temperamental Clufa, were pretty much experts by the end.

Perhaps I should give a couple of examples?

Well, here’s one.

(Please pardon the way it’s written, I was just taking notes on what was happening, so it’s written in script form.)

FREIZA

Daemones magnanime nomini tuo me benedicite mihi scientiam.

A large pile of smoke appears, and from it, a shadow that is shaped like CLUFA appears. The shadow is orange, with a redhead and yellow limbs.

CLUFA

Greetings, young wizard, and thank you for communicating with us. It’s been so long since we’ve had contact with those from the world below.

FREIZA

It’s an honor to meet you, master of the flame.

CLUFA

The flame is an art anyone can learn, but it is true that I am the creator of it.

CLUFA bounces around a couple of flames in her shadow form to show what she’s doing.

FREIZA

I’ve summoned you to ask: how may I topple the Wizarding Committee?

CLUFA

(scoffs) So there’s a wizarding committee now? Love that these pathetic humans pretend they’re the ones in control of the magic and try to hide that they have primordial wizards lurking over them right now.

FREIZA

Indeed; I wish to topple them, and take control of this world.

CLUFA

I can help you, and I’d rather you than the Wizarding Committee rule. But may I ask just why do you think you’re worthy of this?

FREIZA

Because I’ve studied magic for far longer than they have, and I work hard to learn it for myself rather than greedily taking it from others.

CLUFA

You’d be a step up from them, I’ll give you that, little cat. Just what kind of animal are you?

FREIZA

Tiger, technically, though most just call me a cat.

CLUFA

Yes, I can see that.

HANA

OH MY GOSH, THERE’S A CAT???!!!

CLUFA

Hana, shhh, I’m TALKING to someone, and we have to make a good IMPRESSION. PLEASE go back to your corner and… play with plants or something.

HANA

But… but it’s a CAT!

CLUFA

Just summon a cat of your own! Can’t you do that?

HANA

No…

CLUFA

Well… can’t you make a sculpture of one?

HANA

I’VE ALREADY MADE NINETEEN THOUSAND FIVE-HUNDRED SEVENTY-SIX, I WANT TO SEE A REAL CAT!

CLUFA

Ugh, fine, come on.

HANA’s shadow appears in the smoke. Her’s is green all over with a few lighter shades of green in her limbs and head.

HANA

OH MY GOSH HIII!!!

FREIZA

Um… hello I guess.

CLUFA

Okay, you saw the cat, now please go. 

CLUFA pushes HANA away, and her smoke disappears.

CLUFA

Hi. Sorry. My sister’s crazy about cats. Runs in the family, I guess, since cats are one of the only species my brother doesn’t like torturing.

FREIZA

That is… um… quite alright. ANYWAY. I’ve been told that you can bless others with your power.

CLUFA

You’ve been told correctly.

FREIZA

Well, I want to know if you can do that. If you can give me that power.

CLUFA

Can I? Yes. Will I? Maybe. It depends on what you do for me.

FREIZA

What can I do for you?

CLUFA

I am currently in the limbo realm, and I need an external force to help me escape. That’s where you come in.

FREIZA

Oh?

CLUFA

Yes. You must alter the balance of magic so that the barrier between limbo and the physical realm is shattered — only for a brief moment, mind you — but enough for three demigods to escape.

FREIZA

You’re demigods?

CLUFA

Well, we call ourselves that, but, technically we weren’t born to a god or a human, so… JUST LISTEN TO ME!

FREIZA

Yes, of course, um, sorry.

CLUFA

Now, I will bless you with some of my flames, and you may be my host. With this power, you must destroy the Wizarding Committee.

FREIZA

Hold up, hold up, what do you mean, ‘host’?

CLUFA

I mean, the Shadow Legion can use any willing sorcerer as their host if they’re in limbo, to shatter the barrier between worlds. That is what I plan on doing with you, but I need two others.

FREIZA

Fortunately, I know where to find two others. But why should we believe you?

CLUFA

How else do you plan on getting this power?

FREIZA

Hmm. Very well. Grant me your strength.

So yeah.

That’s all I remember from that scene because a bunch of humans came and asked for a bit of magic, and of course, I had no choice but to say yes because of this ANNOYING CURSE THAT KEEPS ME HERE FOR ETERNITY.

Anyway, I suppose that leads into a little of what happened, right? Clufa eventually possessed Freiza and used her to start creating havoc in the Wizarding World (the planet in which that was located).

But there is a lot more to this story. Why? Because many unexpected things happened on the journey.

For one thing, the Wizarding Committee was, in fact, toppled, but not because of Clufa or Freiza. It was because of the citizens of Tulgey Wood, who waged a massive attack, allying with Gnome and Cat Island in order to achieve this. It resulted in two major casualties (not counting the Wizarding Lord, whose death was the goal).

As you can imagine, it caused some shaking of the realms, but not enough.

It wouldn’t be until several weeks later that a true shaking would occur…

Chapter 2

Ah. You again.

You certainly are hungry for more information?

Greedy human.

Assuming you’re human, of course. I really don’t know at this point. Last week I heard that a strange creature with purple eyes and black fur was the one who struck down the Wizarding Lord at the cost of his own life.

Guess that means more than just humans have large intelligence now?

Not that humans are very smart, of course.

Anyway, I won’t jump to any conclusions, and I’ll just give you what you came for.

So a few things happened in the three weeks before they were released. Some external things involving Clufa manipulating her way into getting out with her siblings, but I must say, much to my surprise, observing these demons actually turned out to be a really interesting character study!

I almost feel like I’m watching a movie when I’m watching Clufa, Altzeroil, and Hana all together (maybe a horror drama sitcom? I don’t know), because their interactions and clashing personalities are just delightful.

Take one night, for instance.

Clufa was conjuring some kind of magic aura that was causing tension in limbo. Guess she thought that would lead to some magic misconnections, but if she actually read the books like her brother did, she’d know that would be pointless, as nothing that happened in limbo impacted the world below.

As she was doing this, she was suddenly interrupted by a large bush that took the shape of a cat, that suddenly pounced on Clufa, and bounced off her, destroying her incantation.

Clufa growled in frustration.

“Sorry!” cried Hana, running by Clufa, chasing after the cat. “Lost pet!”

“Hana, what did you do?!” Clufa barked.

“I finally learned how to bring things to live!” Hana answered enthusiastically. “I created a cat, made of leaves! He’s now my best friend ever and for all eternity!”

“Well, can you please just take it away from here?” demanded Clufa. “I’m trying to cause balance shifts from here!”

“You realize that’s pointless?” Altzeroil questioned sassily. “Nothing that happens here impacts the physical realm. We can cause an earthquake, and the physical realm will be untouched.”

“Well, it’s worth a shot, since no one else is trying anything!” Clufa responded irritably. “Now, WAIT.” She closed her eyes and spread her arms out. “Omnis virtus mea, et adducere magicae.”  A yellow string appeared between Clufa’s hands. She began circling her hands around each other, as the string began vibrating. “Utere ea ut conteram nos.” She began levitating, and when she opened her eyes, they were glowing. She looked down and brought her hands inches apart. The string turned into a ball. “Claustra perrumpere!”

Clufa threw the magic ball down the limbo barrier, but it simply bounced off and hit Clufa in the head as though it was a basketball. Clufa fell down, clutching her head, as the ball evaporated. Her eyes stopped glowing.

“Clufa!” yelped Hana, hopping over to her sister. “Are you alright?”

“I’m… I’m fine,” Clufa answered, shaking off the pain in her forehead.

“As I said,” muttered Altzeroil, levitating down, “that was pointless. It got you hurt, and it could have gotten one of us hurt.”

“What have you been doing?” Clufa demanded, getting up. “I’ve been trying to get us all out of here, you’ve just been floating around your precious ice palace and reading stuff, being a nerd!”

“That’s a compliment,” Altzeroil replied with a sly smile.

“IT’S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE!” Clufa roared, losing her temper again, and a bunch of fire erupted around her. She levitated into the air, glaring sharply at Altzeroil.

“Clufa, calm down,” Altzeroil told her. “You’ll burn Hana’s things, which isn’t very polite.”

Clufa muttered as she levitated down and the fire died away. Clufa walked away to sulk her magma fortress.

“Um… was it something I said?” asked Hana, nervously clutching her cat.

“No, dear,” replied Altzeroil, floating back to his ice palace. “It’s no one’s fault.”

Fun, right?

Clufa was constantly throwing temper tantrums, yet at the same time was the most productive of them all, Hana had the IQ of a rat while she was probably the nicest of them all (not saying much), and Altzeroil was the sassy best friend who thinks he’s better and more chill (get it?) than everyone.

It was almost like being in limbo brought the best out of these people, which is interesting, because personally, I became a lot more insane while in this prison. I used to be much more level-headed, I guess you could say (though the people who imprisoned me here will probably tell you otherwise). Now, I’m pretty chaotic, so yay. They’ve gotten a lot closer and developed more antics. I guess not being alone definitely served a role in it.

Anyway, guess you’re done with all this “FUN FUN” stuff and want to get to the actual interesting stuff.

Fine, you cranky person.

Later, though. I need to get my sleep. Goodbye.