We return to the trailer, my mind racing with different thoughts, all clustered in my head. Some thoughts are laced with hope that this might work, others revolving around different methods if destroying the stone doesn't work, but a majority of my thoughts are filled with worry that I simply can't push away or ignore.

   Entering the house first, I'm hoping my parents are out on their afternoon stroll through the woods as they often tend to do on Sundays. After searching the house thoroughly, we're in luck and I find on the stove a note letting me know that they've gone out. The only downfall is I don't know what time they went out or what time they'll be returning, but that's not a high priority in my mind at the moment.

    Letting Xalale in, we head to my bedroom where the stone is in the drawer, still safe.

    Already this little, chipped stone seems more crucial than the first time I noticed it. The weight of what it can actually do has finally set in. Imagine, if one little stone like this can do so much, how much more can all of them together do- that's what we don't want to find out.

   "So how do we go about this?" I ask, setting the stone on the table.

    Since it was his idea to destroy the thing, I'm going to let him take the reins with this. Besides, I don't have any powers to combat with it, so what use do I have in the first place?

    "Hand it to me," He instructs.

    I'm a bit reluctant to give it over seeing how wonderfully the last test with this was- especially when he held it.

   "Maybe you shouldn't. Hold it, I mean. Try affecting it on the table."

    He sighs impatiently.

   "I will be fine, now let me hold it."

    He's holding his hand out, waiting, but I still have a bad feeling about this.

   "Maybe we shouldn't be so careless with it, that's what got you injured the first time. Let's try a more cautious approach this time around."

    Again, he looks annoyed at my needless worrying, but he complies and takes the stone from my hand, setting it on the table.

   I'm still not fully relieved of my worry, but this is simply because I'm scared of the results that might come- negative or positive. I cross my finger as I watch from the edge of my bed.

   The dark tendrils creep from his hands, engulfing the stone in a blanket of darkness. Nothing major occurs until a sharp sound, resembling that of when electricity zaps, snaps. This, in change, causes Xalale to recoil, pulling back his hands as though zapped by an invisible lighting bolt. The shadows disperse, lifting from around the stone like fog; the stone shows no change.

   "Are you okay? That sounded like that hurt."

    Inspecting his hands, I see no serious injuries or major physical side effects other than a slight tremor in his hands.

    "Maybe we should try a more direct approach," I suggest, reaching for the stone.

    "Direct how?" He asks, still recovering from the initial shock.

    "Like blunt force direct."

    "It's worth an attempt. How are you going to do that?"

     With the object in hand, I head to the door and answer, "With effort."

     We head outside on the porch, where I set the stone on one of the steps and begin to search for a large rock. It's not too hard to locate one which I take over to the smaller stone. Hopefully, this won't backfire, but I brace myself just in case it does.

    Bringing the sizeable rock down as hard as I can onto the stone, I put all my aggression into doing so.

    "Dammit!"

    "Wha!?" For a quick second, I thought I accidentally slammed the rock down on his foot, causing him to cry out in pain, but my aim was spot on, so I'm confused to the reason for his outburst.

    "What's wrong?"

    He's gripping his hand, the one which has the burn mark. I stand up, trying to see what the problem is.

    "What did you do?"

    He asks as though he didn't just witness what I tried to do.

    "I just tried to use the force of the rock to break the stone. What happened?"

    "Clearly not what you hoped would occur."

    I inspect his hand which is still bandaged from the burn then glance down at the stone with a frown.

    "What if it knows what we're trying to do?"

    "What?"

    "I know it sounds farfetched, but what if it can sense that we're trying to destroy it and it has some sort of magical safety trigger that prevents us from doing so? I mean, it seems that way."

    He scowls, rubbing his hand. "I would only ask why it appears to only cause me ailment and not you."

   "Uh...that's a good question."

    Even though I was the one to try and break it with the rock, it was Xalale who felt the backfire from it- I didn't feel a thing. A thought comes into my mind of why this would be, but it's vague and I would need to test this theory out.

    "I'm not sure if this is the case, but-" I pausing, thinking some more.

    "What?" He presses.

    "I have to get something. Be right back."

     I race off to the shed in the woods to retrieve something in my dad's toolbox. A simple screwdriver is the tool I'm searching for. Once I find it, I hurry back to the porch where Xalale is waiting for me, most likely wondering what I'm up to. I take a seat on the step with the screwdriver ready in hand.

    "Just tell me when you feel pain. Or if you feel any at all."

    There's question in his eyes, but he doesn't speak his mind.

    "Fine."

     Holding the screwdriver, I lightly tap the stone with a minimal amount of force.

    "Anything?" I ask.

    "No."

     I take another jab at it with the tool, a little more effort and force given this time. I wait.

    "What are you trying to prove?" He finally questions.

    I don't look up from my task. "Just wait."

    My next try is given the most force as I bring down the tip of the screwdriver onto the stone. The moment the tip comes in contact with the stone, I hear an outburst of pain and surprise from Xalale. Setting aside the screwdriver, a sinking feeling rolls over me as my assumption proves right.

   "I think I understand it's safety mechanism now," I say grimly. "I think it's connected with you somehow. So if we try to harm it, it only hurts you."

    Still reeling from the pain, he glowers.

    "How do we break that connection?"

    Why does he keep asking me all these questions like I have the answers!? I barely know why it's connected to him in the first place.

    "I don't know if we can..."

    "This is getting us nowhere," He's starting to become worked up over this. "We need to destroy this somehow."

     Placing a finger on my lip (taking a page from my mother's book) I ponder it over thoughtfully.

    "Maybe destroying it isn't the way."

    "How should we go about then?" He challenges. "It's dangerous magic."

     Standing up, I try to keep my voice leveled.

     "So is your magic, but destroying it isn't the key to fixing anything. We can't just destroy everything we deem 'dangerous'. Maybe we're looking at it wrong- perspective, you said something about that before. It's just like with your darkness, it can be viewed as a good or bad thing depending on how you use it. This stone"- I pick it up-"May be used for bad intents, but it can also benefit us."

     There's a light trace of skepticism hinted in his expression, but his response barely reveals it.

    "How then can it benefit us?"

    I shrug,"I don't know, but we have to explore it more."

    Staring out at the forest in thought, he doesn't say anything for a few moments, but eventually, he looks back at me.

   "Fine, but for the time being, one of us should always keep the stone on us, just for safe keeping."

   "Sounds like a plan."

    I pocket the stone safely and we head back inside. There's so much to be done, I feel like, but no way to go about it.

   Arriving back in my room, I lie on my bed, staring up at the ceiling in thought. Xalale must not know what to do with himself, either that or he's in thought pacing back in forth methodically. After a bit, he relaxes, sitting down on the mattress below. Glancing down, I notice him still thinking, but absentmindedly fiddling with the ring on his finger. Suddenly, I'm curious and sit up, causing him to take notice.

   "Can I ask you something?"

   He looks up at me then straight ahead going back into thought.

   "What?"

   I point to his hand.

   "You seem to value that ring a lot, but when I first found it, it was in a box in an old dusty room. Why?"

   He doesn't jump to answer the question, but he eventually speaks up.

   "It brought back bitter memories I didn't wish to remember, but I couldn't bring myself to destroy it so I hid it away. I often checked on it just make sure it was still there."

    Just that short response told me so much. Again, he always wants to destroy things that cause him pain or are "bad" and he still revisits things even though it might be a sour memory.

    "Oh. Well, does it still cause you bitter memories?"

     He inspects it on his finger.

    "Somewhat, but not fully, at least not as strongly anymore."

    "That's good."

     Even when I found it in that room for the first time, I couldn't help but admire what a marvel the piece was. The blue gemstone that shone in the middle was nearly as richly blue as its owner's eyes.

     "Well great. Now every time I notice that ring, I'll think about Xalale's eyes. My wonderfully stupid brain."

   "When did you get it?" I ask to distract my thoughts.

    This apparently helps us both get off our constant thoughts.

    "It was given to me when I turned eight."

    "By whom?"

    From the stormy glare in his eyes, I can already guess who.

    "My mother. But it wasn't always hers and I don't keep it for her sake. It was originally my father's, he's the one that presented it to her. It was made for him by his father."

    I sit down next to him on the floor so we're closer.

    "Wow, that's an old heirloom. I don't think my family has anything that valuable in our possession."

   "The only reason I didn't destroy it was because it was my father's."

   I can understand why he kept it then. One of the few things I remember him telling me was that he never knew his father, so I guess if I was in his situation, I would hold onto any piece of someone I could only imagine.

    Switching gears, I step into this territory very lightly, but my curiosity is getting the better of me.

    "What happened to your father?"

    He glances at me before staring at the window, his brow furrowed.

    "I'm not entirely certain. She never brought it up so neither did I. She mentioned he give her this ring when he left, therefore I'm assuming he didn't stay for too long."

   "Did he leave when you were an infant, maybe?"

   "I have very little information about him."

   "Do you at least know his name?"

   "She never mentioned his name and I never thought to ask."

    I'm floored.

   "What did she tell you about him?"

   He breaks his gaze away from the window to me. His face doesn't show it, but his eyes reveal how sullen a topic this is for him.

   "The only thing she told me was that I looked very much like him. We never discussed him again."

     Well, at least I knew where he got his looks from because it very clearly isn't Aelita (though their characteristics are chillingly similar).

   Resting my cheek against my pulled up knees, I lower my voice.

   "Do you wish you knew your father?"

   For this, he looks away again, this time at the few cracks running along my walls.

   "Perhaps. But then I must remember he was with my mother so he must be something like her and I would never wish to have anyone so similarly close as her."

    The bitter edge has returned to his voice, driving out the thoughtful tone that was once present.

    "You don't know that," I say gently.

    "Even so, he left he must have had some inner demons to deal with."

    "You don't know that either. We shouldn't just assume anything about him. Maybe he had his reasons for leaving."

    "First and foremost my mother, I'm sure."

    I hold back a sigh.

    "You know nothing about this man yet you believe he left because of your mother. There's always two sides to a story, you know."

    He doesn't respond immediately to that, but after a few silent moments, he speaks up again, still some resentment hidden in his voice.

   "Unfortunately, I have yet to hear from either side."

   I take a breath knowing that what I'm about to say might push the wrong buttons, but it's the honest truth. I start it off hesitate and careful in my wording.

    "Maybe you should ask the one person who can give you answers."

    His hard stare is piercing, almost as much as his voice.

    "Ask her what? You don't seem to grasp who exactly my mother is, Mallory," He looks away. "And how could I expect you to, you've never witnessed her true colors fully."

    Repositioning myself, I rest my chin on my knees, staring down, letting the tense silence crowd around us. After a moment, I can sense him watching me again. Finally, he speaks, his voice not as hostile as it was before.

    "I don't mean to be contentious but you don't know her like I do."

    I straighten up, leaning against the bed.

    "Yeah, I guess not. But I'm just curious as to why you two don't like each other anymore."

    I'm praying this is something he'll actually answer straightforward for once, but after staring at me with an unreadable expression for a few minutes he resumes staring at the fine cracks in the wall.

    "Perhaps for another day."

    Disappointed, though not surprised at his averting of the topic, I take a mental breath and try not to reveal the disappointment in my voice.

   "Okay."

    I don't want to push him, but I'm tired of waiting for answers. I have to wait for answers that are always out of my reach. This one is within my reach but Xalale keeps holding the key away from me.

    He must be done talking to me because we now just sit in silence. Assuming there's nothing more to talk about, I begin to stand up so I can lie back down on my bed and maybe take a nap, but outside of my door, the sound of my parents returning from their afternoon walk interrupts me.

   "Be right back," I tell him before jumping up and heading into the kitchen to greet them.

   They glance up at me as I stand at the threshold of the kitchen.

   "When did you get back?" My mom asks, taking a seat with her water bottle.

   I take a seat at the table as well.

   "Not too long ago. How was your walk?"

   "Wonderful."

   My dad pulls a water bottle out for himself then takes the last seat.

   "The weather is gorgeous out there. Makes me think that tonight the sky'll be clear enough for us."

   For second, I frown confused about what he's talking about when suddenly I remember our stargazing venture we planned for tonight.

   A wave of uneasiness washes over me at the thought of leaving Xalale home alone with my mother who must be related to an eagle. He'll have to keep an extra low profile tonight.

   After that wave of worry fades away, I can't help but feel giddy about this trip. It'll be a path down memory lane when things weren't so secretive and complex. Where there wasn't a single stressful, worrisome thing hanging over my mind other than what Santa would bring me for Christmas and if the Tooth Fairy would visit me. A peaceful, simple time with no end-of-the-world catastrophes, no two-faced people like Aelita, not even annoying people like Franklin or Jerry around to disturb me, and most importantly, no moody, bi-polar, temperamental Xalale. Life was clearer then. Going on this little outing with my dad will be like reliving those treasured moments I took for grant back then.

    Grinning, I nod.

    "Yeah, the forecast says clear skies tonight and a balmy, summer night."

    "Sounds fantastic."

     I excuse myself in order to return back to my room where I find Xalale resuming where he left off in The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. He barely notices my presence as I lie on the bed.

   "Just to let you know, I'm going to be out tonight with my dad. We're going stargazing and I don't really know how long we'll be, but my mom's still going to be around and she's extremely observant so just be careful until I come home. If you hear her standing outside the door, it's probably because she's suspicious so I would advise you to hide."

    Half the time I swear I'm talking to myself because he's clearly not listening to a word I say. What do I care? (I'm going to if he gets caught).

    "Xalale, are you even listening or are you just reading?" I ask annoyed.

    His attention stays glued to the pages.

    "I hear with my ears, not my eyes."

    "Yeah, but-" I let it go. I can always sense when we're on the verge of a petty squabble. They're just not worth the time and energy anymore.

    Bored, I take out my laptop and turn my full attention to updating my blog, every so often glancing down over his shoulder as he reads. I don't know why, but it helps rest my eyes from the glare of the computer screen periodically.

    The weirdest thing is, every time I look back fully at my screen, I feel as though he's glancing up at me, staring until he glances back down as though reading the pages. The pages turn consistently with his reading, but the feeling remains, though every time I peering down at him, he's not looking at me at all.