Clover

I was trying to piece together an essay in the library with Lavender when Timothy found me. He had sent a text, so I wasn't too surprised. Just greeted the young man happily. I really liked him. And was pleased he had asked if he could meet me. Wasn't I? For some reason I wasn't sure.

I closed the laptop.

I had somehow misplaced the charging cable but the battery life of the little device was amazing. I would still probably need to get a new one.

"Morning, Lavender," he greeted the other girl, who waved absently. She was chewing the end of a pen and was deep in her own thoughts, probably consumed by the oncoming exams.

"Are you busy?" Timothy asked me.

I shook my head. I only had a few pending tasks this week.

Lavender looked at us irritably. It was obvious her concentration hung in balance by fragile threads. It would snap if we continued talking near her. I rose and followed Timothy. We ascended a few stories up, to an area reserved for idle chatting. There weren't many students there, as it was lunch time. Most conversations and casual meetups happened in the canteens.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" I asked. "Something study related?"

Timothy shook his head.

"No. Not study related. I think I am quitting again. What do you know of the elves?"

I stared blankly. "What did you say?" I must have missed something.

He repeated the question. Just the question.

I still didn't understand. Which I said aloud.

"I just need more information of what they are. It's important. I think I will have to live with them, or they are going to need me for something. I am not sure. Because I know nothing."

A silence.

"Clover? Did I say something funny?" Timothy looked at me worriedly. "I know we have our differences, but this is important, a life and death situation."

I cleared my throat.

"Are we, ermm... talking of, like, Tolkien elves? Or what is this about, because I am not following."

His frown deepened.

"No," Timothy pronounced slowly, "I am talking of magical beings that inhabit the inner parts of the main island where it's too mountainous for human towns. That is more or less what I know. Because I have never seen one."

"You wish to see an elf?" I asked.

"No. I want to know what they might do to a vampire that is sacrificed to them."

I didn't know what to think. Lavender saw bad nightmares and was having occasional seizures even, the always sure-footed Valentina was becoming absentminded and now Timothy was asking what I knew of elves.

I tried to find a smile for him. It came out forced.

"Maybe you could talk to my uncle? He is the head of Folklore studies," I suggested. It seemed the only reasonable path onward.

Timothy nodded. The gesture was slow and deliberate. He eyed me at least as worriedly as I felt about him.

"Where are your glasses?" he suddenly asked.

"I don't know," I answered. "I lost a lot of things when I moved in with Valentina. My glasses, some cables, some of my favorite jewelry... And I seem to see just fine without." I shrugged. "I'll see an optic if I start to get headaches. But for now I am good."

Timothy's gaze became suddenly blank. The frown cleared between his brows. His lips had parted slightly and he looked as if I had hit him with something. Which I almost felt compelled to do now. What were my missing glasses compared to all the talk about elves?

Timothy visibly gathered himself. He closed his mouth. Opened it again. He fixated a polite smile onto his face as he said:

"Okay. This uncle of yours, is he your father's brother?"

I nodded. Relieved he had finally said something I understood. "We are close. Ever since my father died, he has helped me out in many ways. I can show you the office. His name is Aconite Shatter Hat."

"I would really appreciate it."

We didn't talk much on the way to the office. Aconite wasn't in, but Timothy shrugged and told me he was prepared to wait a moment.

There was a couch on the corridor where he seated himself.

There was something about that couch...

"I talked to you here..." I said aloud.

I turned to stare in the direction where we had just come. There had been a raven there...

I turned my gaze back to Timothy. He was looking up at me.

Suddenly, I felt very tired.

"I... I think I'll go rest for a moment. And then there are the exams coming..."

He nodded.

"Next week. Would you come to the Town with me?"

He said the word Town in a certain way that made me think the word had a meaning he expected me to understand.

"I have a lot of exams..." I packed out.

Timothy nodded again.

"In that case..." He looked thoughtful. "No. It doesn't really matter. Good luck with the exams, Clover."

I wanted to ask if he was really quitting the studies. But a headache was hammering its way into existence, and I felt truly exhausted. I would send a text, once the exams were over.

I left him in the corridor, waiting for my uncle.

My head was spinning as I rose the stairs to a spacious hall on the ground level.

I drew in lungfuls of autumn air. The cold damp current seemed to help with the headache, so I didn't head straight back into the library but stayed outside. Lavender would take care of my bag, I was sure.

My feet took me to a small shrine dedicated to the great goddess Iris. I sometimes visited the simple altar in one of the campus courtyards. It was a habit of mine. I wasn't religious and hardly ever left offerings to smaller spirits, but sometimes I just went to visit this one simple carving on a stone wall.

It depicted a woman that grew from a tree trunk. Her hair became the branches above her. She didn't have feet, the lower body blended into the trunk and became roots. There was a lantern burning on a stone table in front of the carving. Some nuts. A piece of bread. I suspected it had come from the canteen's kitchen nearby. The bread was baked here and served fresh for the hundreds of students who had their lunch in the building. Apparently the kitchen served the first slice to the goddess.

Iris was the only god that was known for all of Atlantis. She was the home of gods. The roots that connected all the hundreds of deities people felt deserved an altar. The knower of all the secrets people told the earth. Her roots were everywhere in the terrain. And her branches knew all the secrets of the heavens. She alone knew the secrets of death and birth.

I cleared from the stone some fallen leaves that left behind wet spots. I crouched on the ground in front of the carving, carefully folding my coat behind my knees so the hem wouldn't touch the moist leaves that spread in a colorful carpet all around me. And wished I had had with me anything to offer. The exams were making me nervous.

But there seemed to be nothing to give, not even a secret I could think of. I felt drained.

I felt I was already missing something. Something that had been given to the gods, maybe.

The phone vibrated against an inner pocket.

I sighed. And answered my grandmother. There was one more being I had nothing to give for. I felt like Fern was always somehow disappointed in me.

"Clover, child?" She sounded worried, for some reason.

"Hi, granny. What is it?"

A silence. I heard a car pass by on the road just behind the courtyard walls. A yellow leaf aimed for the wet ground.

"How are you child? Aconite claims... He... He says..."

I frowned. "What is it? What has Aconite said?"

Something very upsetting obviously.

"He says he helped you move."

"Oh," I said. "Well, he did. We carried all the boxes up to my friend's apartment yesterday. We decided to find a shared flat."

"So you... You have made the sacrifice?"

"A sacrifice? What do you mean? I mean, I am now at a shrine, but... Are you well, Fern?" Worry washed over me. What was she talking about? What sacrifice?

"Your memory, child? You have sacrificed the one part that didn't serve you. Tell me I am wrong and Aconite is a big old owl with an air filled head."

I was about to tell her my uncle was a big old owl with feathers for a brain. The words stuck to my throat. I felt a film over my eyes, warm against the cool damp day.

When I didn't continue, Fern spoke instead. She sounded very warm and caring:

"It is all good, child. It isn't your fault. It is no one's fault. For some reason the magic didn't grow strong in you. Aconite thinks this might even be for the better. You don't need to struggle to blend in. You are where you belong, and we will love you just as you are."

A warm trickle traced down my cheek.

"I will pay a visit one of these days. Don't cry. You are well. We will give you to the City. Like the dead are given for the great mysteries, so we give one of our own for the mortals, for the great mysterious human world. And Aconite will be there guiding you. May you find your path. One for yourself. Travel safe in the great human jungle."

She hung up.

I stared at the phone. Tears of confusion were tracing down their own paths and fell onto the altar between some cashews and a plate where the bread was served for Iris.

I had a feeling that despite her words, I would see my grandmother never again. I saw her already so rarely I hardly remembered what she looked like. We had never gotten along. But why the call, what had it all been about?

Lavender

By lunch hour I was already more than prepared to mash the screens of every student that hadn't set their phones to silent. My nerves were giving in. How did you study for an oncoming exam when at any moment you might lose consciousness and find yourself in the evening with no recollection of the day thus far? I had lost days in this month. Literally lost them, not just scrolled them away in social media.

I tried massaging my temples.

Even Dew had noticed something was amiss. One day I had apparently wandered out the door before he even woke up, and Dew was an early riser. I had come to myself in the late afternoon, just outside my own front door. I had been holding a pen aloft like a wand, and didn't have the keys on me.

I scrolled down some lecture slides.

Something was taking hold of me. My terror of psychiatrists hadn't dissipated in the slightest. Every time I entertained the notion of seeing one...

I felt the world tilted.

I caught hold of the table top, shifting it by various centimeters.

Breath in. Breath out.

The laptop's edges became sharp again. So did the slides that were still open.

For a moment I stared at the black font somewhat offended.

It was still there. Demanding my time. Time that felt more and more limited.

Where the hell had I been on that day? Those days...

A phone actually rang behind me.

I drew in an irritated, sharp breath.

"Hey! Wow! No!"

I turned to the agitated voice with maybe a full dozen other nearest students that didn't have noise canceling in their headsets. A young man was standing between shelves and tables. He crouched down as we watched.

"Where did it go?"

I felt as puzzled as my fellow students looked. The man was now down on all fours, looking for something.

"It just flew out of my hand. I don't get it. I am sorry. Have you seen a flying phone? This is embarrassing."

One by one, the spectators lost interest and turned back to their respective screens. I considered my own dismally.

My concentration was absolutely broken.

I put down the cover.

I wasn't going to get any more studying done that day. Staring at the screen wasn't going to help.

And there were many other matters I had been postponing with the pretext of the exams.

I glanced once at Clover's bag. I flung it over my shoulder.

I passed the owner of the flying phone on my way to the down leading stairs.

I drew my own phone out and sent Clover a message:

I'll go to The Marquise. I have your stuff.