When the world returned, when the spinning stopped and the vision came back, the safe friend was gone. The lights in the window hinted that much more time had passed, and now they were alone and memories of the wanting and the lack of having returned.

I don’t want to be alone.

I want to find my friends.

Are they my friends? I didn’t mean to think that, but I did, and… it feels right, for some reason. I don’t like seeing them sad, does that make us friends?

We’re so different, though.

They’re all cool and special and unique and I’m barely even here. I try to be here and it hurts.

Wandering towards the outside, finding friends proved difficult. No matter where they looked, the only people they found on campus were other students. With little else to do, and no one especially interesting to watch, they tried to learn. They were scared of using all their senses, it had been so painful last time, but small stretches of being present, just a little bit, seemed easier the more they tried. Their favorite, at least for now, was hearing, because it was the most common thing. All the students were constantly talking, and the more they listened, the more they learned.

Just like the trees and the buildings and the other ideas, the people also had names. All the students had one, names that designated who they were and where they were and, when spoken, the name drew the attention of that person, who became more present upon hearing it.

Names had power.

Do I have a name? Everything and everyone else has a name. Would having one make it easier to be? Maybe I’m different because I don’t have a name.

I’m wrong, aren’t I?

Content originally comes from NoveIꜰire.net

While thoughts of names at times distracted them, it wasn’t enough to prevent them from learning more and more about the world. They learned the names of other students, but also listened to how they talk, growing more familiar with their language.

Moving around, floating from building to building as they dipped in and out of conversations, they eventually found their way back to the strange circle that had made the world brighter. They had fond memories of all the colors they’d seen, how the world had lit up and felt so alive and how it hadn’t demanded pain and confusion to make it happen.

Being in the circle felt relaxing, it was so nice to have color and sound without needing to hurt. They had no idea how much time passed as they enjoyed themselves in the circle, but eventually their relaxation was paused when they heard voices echoing around them. Having taken enough of a break from being around people, their curiosity got the better of them and they floated closer. They’d gotten better at finding everyone that wandered the campus; after all, the students couldn’t float off the ground or through walls, so they had very few places to go. Eventually, they found the very same group of people they’d followed a ways back, the ones that had talked about gateways and circles and siphons and clothes-stealing.

At first they were excited, last time these people had wandered campus with the glowing friend, but this time was different. Glowing friend was nowhere to be seen. Maybe they would return eventually? The thought of seeing them again was nice, even if they didn’t know why.

The group walked all over campus, talking more and more of circles and sigils and plans for the future. After so much following and watching people, they began to feel like they had a better grasp of reading feelings and emotions, and they put those skills to the test here. They watched body language, the way the people held themselves and spoke and acted, and they realized there was so much more to language than just words.

These people called themselves a Coven. There were five of them, four woman and one man, and they all had different opinions about the circles and the gates. One woman, however, seemed to be in charge of all the others. She wore her hair in a tight bun, tiny glasses sat at the end of her nose, and when she talked everyone else withered away. At a certain point, three of the Coven people left the group and walked in a separate direction, while the mean lady in charge took the man down to one of the circles on campus.

The man that spoke was smaller, but every time he talked they got the impression he was very nice. Like everyone else, he seemed scared to say things to the woman in charge, but he kept talking anyways.

“—I just think the practices are mutually exclusive. The students around here have taken to calling the network a Gate, and I think that’s a very apt comparison. If we think on those terms, the only way to siphon the energy you’re looking for is to leave the gate partially open. The more open the gate is, the more magic we could draw, but the greater the risk we create for the students living here. We’ve already seen the damage that leaving the soft spot exposed can bring, Headmistress, and I question the necessity of—”

The mean lady in charge, the Headmistress, cut him off. “It is not your job to question, Mr. Jun. You will do as I ask, or else we’ll have a separate discussion about your financial situation. You think I haven’t noticed the suspicious ‘increased reagent costs’ you’ve fabricated in your reports?”

The nice man seemed surprised by the statement. “O-oh, I didn’t… Headmistress, about that, I… what I mean to say is—”

“I will repeat myself, Mr. Jun; that is not the conversation we’re having now. But we will be forced to have it if you repeat what you just spoke to anyone else. Do we have an understanding?”

“Y-yes, Headmistress,” the nice man muttered.

“Very good. I expect your final notes by the end of the week,” the Headmistress said, turning and walking away.

Ugh, she’s so mean!

With the conversation over, Mr. Jun stayed put while the Headmistress turned and walked away. Following them was easy, as was following everyone. Walls and doors and floors meant nothing, they were no different than the air, and something about this person made more thoughts appear. Thoughts of wanting the world to be less mean, of time spent thinking of ways to help, to reduce the mean and the hurt of the world.

Maybe that’s who I am.

Maybe I’m here to help.

Can I help by learning about the Headmistress? Earlier, they stopped talking when the glowing friend appeared, and they seemed to go out of their way to avoid all the other people on campus. If their power comes from their secrets… maybe making them not secrets would help!

The Headmistress walked on her own for quite some time. She traveled the campus, eventually leaving it entirely as she approached the buildings that looked different on the outside of the school. This was the furthest they’d ever been since existing, and a twinge of fear appeared, but determination won in the end. This person knew something, and following them would be the helpful thing to do, even if they didn’t know exactly how yet.

They eventually stopped at a large, strange looking house far away from the school. Going inside felt strange and tingly—even the Headmistress seemed to feel something, as she stopped and looked around for a moment—but there were no problems afterwards.

They looked around, putting their language and understanding skills to the test as they tried to describe this house to themselves. The main entrance opened into a grand foyer with old paintings of important looking people lining the walls. Several entryways hinted at equally elaborate rooms elsewhere in the house; large double doors led to a lavish study with a roaring fireplace, a decorative arch elsewhere showcased a large dining table that several people were setting plates and silverware on. The Headmistress ignored all of these things, instead walking up an extravagant staircase, complete with immaculately polished handrails and plush green carpet running up the middle. When she arrived at the second floor, she pivoted to a room at the end of a hallway, then firmly knocked on the door there.

When it opened, they saw another one of the Coven members, but they didn’t know the name of this one. She had soft features, with long hair that cascaded down her shoulders, partially obscuring one side of her face.

“Oh, Headmistress Davenport, I wasn’t expecting—”

Without saying anything, the Headmistress pushed past this lady into her room. “That’s because I did not tell you I was arriving.”

“Right, of course,” the soft lady said, nodding slowly in respect. “How can I help you?”

“We need to talk about Miss Blackwood.”

“About Tessa? Whatever for?”

“She’s still hiding something from us, Miss Bishop. Her incompetence runs deep, and despite everything we are offering her, she still refuses to show us the respect we are owed.”

“How can you be so sure? I read Imani’s report, and it seemed remarkably consistent with Tessa’s statements to us earlier. I’ve even spoken with her myself, and she seems quite confident that, apart from the incursion, there are no other concerns on campus.”

“And yet reports from Miss Tsopnang and Miss Gautier would beg to differ. I fear you are far too trusting, as usual; do you really think that Miss Blackwood fought past the skeletal guardians of Purgatory with a few nondescript students by her side? No, there’s something else going on here, and you’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

“Me? How?”

“Pull the truth out of her. She trusts you, doesn’t she?”

“I would never betray that trust, Headmistress. She’s been through so much already.”

“Is that so?” The Headmistress paused, clicking her tongue under her breath. “Hm. If you don’t, we may need to strengthen our security just to be safe. I’ve noticed a curious gap in our protective wards, ones that might allow traversal through the Dreamscape; perhaps it’s time we addressed that weakness? Come to think of it, I recall seeing a similar weakness back at Headquarters…”

Miss Bishop gasped, holding a hand to her lips. “I… would hate for you to feel unsafe, Headmistress. Perhaps it is best that I talk to Miss Blackwood.”

“I appreciate you coming to your senses, Miss Bishop. I eagerly await your report.”

With their conversation seemingly over, the Headmistress turned and left the room. Miss Bishop seemed to be troubled by what they’d discussed, but it was hard to know why. Still, the curiosity that had drawn them here spurred them to keep lurking, and they began floating from room to room as they looked for more interesting scenes to watch. Unfortunately, they had to stop listening as intently as they’d done with Miss Bishop and the Headmistress; the world was beginning to spin and lurch, and they wanted to avoid losing themselves any further.

They learned many small things that day, though it was impossible to say how much would be helpful. A few names here and there, a couple pieces of information about magic, but much of what they learned proved too confusing to understand.

After spending the entire night, and a small part of the morning, watching the Coven in their fancy house, the curiosity had faded. They drifted through the front door, the world fuzzy as they thought through everything they’d learned recently. Was it helpful? They’d hoped that learning about the Headmistress and her Coven might help, but as they thought back, they struggled to remember the train of logic that had brought them to that conclusion.

So many ideas, so many conflicting thoughts and people. How do they manage? It almost seemed like there was a missing sense, something that allowed people to communicate even more effectively, but without using words.

Their thoughts were interrupted when people started walking through and around them. Dozens of people, all bundled up in thick coats and scarves, hustling in and out of buildings. Their attention eventually snapped to one pair of people that, for some reason, felt familiar. A shorter man with hunched posture and gray hair, along with a woman with faded hair of her own.

These two people… why do I know them? In some ways, they almost feel similar to the safe friend, but in a different, opposite way. They make me feel…wrong.

But that makes them right, doesn’t it?

I am wrong.

That’s the one thing I remember most.