Chapter 35 

The Catlar is an ancient weapon of unique design. Covering the fist and forearm in layered plating, ending in a pair of curved punching blades mounted to an armored fist. The top and sides of the weaponized armor are lined with spikes or blades.

Day 343 Castestday

Since Thallos’s comment about my mental state that had wounded me so badly, just over forty days had passed. twenty days. Those four weeks had passed at a rate that seemed both flitting and slothful. For a whole month, I had been bottling up a flood of dark thoughts, and because of it, my studies suffered. I’d lost focus. I second-guessed everything, every word, action, and thought. The year’s end trials were closing in at top speed, and I had barely managed anything. Even Nel and Ferris noticed that something was wrong, but I kept on telling them not to worry. 

The only escape I found was in crafting. It was my last emotional vent. I hadn’t won a match in months. I failed most tests. My mundane class scores were plummeting like a brick of adamantine in the ocean. But where my life was burning down around me, I dove deeper into crafting, designing, and improving. I remade my tactical gauntlet, basing the concept on an old weapon known as a catlar. I modified, added, and/or replaced every tool on my gauntlet and several other tech tools that I had made a habit of keeping on my person. Thallos had spoken of training Wizards to be fluent in combat casting months ago, and I soon learned that my affinity was disturbingly close to that of a Sorcerer. Sorcerers were combat casters. Their trade was destruction, be it in the form of demolition, siege, mass creature eradication, clearing extensive areas of plant life, or anything long along those lines. Sorcerers had an innate penchant for large-scale ruin bordering on a habitual addiction. So it stood to reason that if a Wizard’s constructive magic could be used for destruction, I should be able to harness my magic’s destructive nature to create.

My unaided work was still rough. Utilizing my finger to weld presented difficulty in the precise nature needed to keep a consistent bead. Charging empty myst crystals with electric or thermal power to use as batteries was also a matter of precision, which led many crystals to rupture from over-saturation. The use of Death Myst was strictly prohibited in the academy, but it didn’t have any relevant use in my crafting. My affinity for Chaos Myst was minimal, so I was unable to utilize myst hacking to any great advantage. I did have a strong affinity for Ruin Myst, which was a powerful and dangerous force and just as prohibited as Death Myst. While that didn’t stop me from trying and shattering several batteries, those failures were far more disastrous than the other attempts. These elements were those that Sorcerers had the highest affinities for, other than Air which I only found a use for in controlling the temperatures while at the forge.

I had descended further down the rabbit hole of crafting, forsaking sleep, and hiding from worried friends whenever they expressed concern. Endless hours were spent trying to push questions from my mind. Questions of how defective, faulty, or damaged I was as a person. Was that why I had such a hard time understanding people? Was that why people hated me so badly and not because of my breed? Was this all because of my Myst-Blooded nature?

I struggled to push these thoughts away with study, practice, and craft. I honed down my tactical gauntlet, altering the design around the new catlar base. A framework mounted with circuitry and impact padding under a shell of layered plates. Matte gunmetal with black leather mounting straps and padding. The whole design was short, without the spikes and blades of a normal catlar, but it had an asymmetric series of deformations concealing shock bites, secorus gas disks, a grappling hook, and a welder/gas spray nozzle. I even added new features. A collapsable Vekenna blade mounted to the top of the catlar and linked at the hilt with a cord of woven steel fibers. And an illusion projection system set to cover me in any guise I could imagine and focus on.

I wore the tool at all times, not even taking it off to sleep. When I wasn’t working on my craft, I was studying for classes and practicing sect skills. Even as I failed test after test, I only drove myself to study harder. I took on disguise after disguise, playing any role I could step into to hone my ability to become anyone. I was always caught and was often forced to evade capture. Now, evasion was something I was good at. I fled from foes, be they students or Mystagogues I tried to trick. But I wasn’t just running from people. I fled from memories of failure, of abuse, and of loss. But even more than anything else, I fled from dark thoughts. I saw scars in every dark corner of my mind. I found flaws in every word I spoke. With every failure brought about by second-guessing, I only questioned myself even more.

I fought harder in every duel, tried harder in every exam, ate less, and slept less if only to push myself just a little more. I failed every sparring session I had until it became too much.

Rose flung a dagger at me, aimed at my abdomen. The blade flew at top speed. I deflected the blade with a sweep of my Catlar, knocking it aside and sending it toppling to the floor. In quick response, I drew the clawed end of my gauntleted index finger across my left palm, bringing a line of blood welling up. I clenched my fist, drawing the blood from the wound even as I sidestepped a thrust from Thallos aimed at my chest. Spinning away, I flung my hand out to leave a sprayed trail of blood and froze to a sheet of crimson ice around me.

I held my gauntleted fist up in a sign of defiance as I loosed the mounted Vekenna. The blade shot seven feet into the air before expanding into a full Vekenna blade shape. I watched Rose’s eyes track the launched blade, and I struck even before the blade started its fall. I lashed out with my still bloody hand and set loose a swarm of burning fireflies, a mass of crimson droplets set ablaze and given flight to rush forward in a burning cloud. Thallos sidestepped the cloud to swing a morning star in a wide arc aimed at my chest. I tried to throw myself back but found myself a half-second too slow. Even as I hurled backward, the broad head of the weapon struck the side of my chest, spikes biting deep into flesh and fracturing bone. I found myself spinning away from the strike, burning barbs of agony in my chest flared only brighter as the spikes peeled free of my flesh, drawing new furrows as they went. 

I struck the floor and slid like an oversized, meaty Kreegen puke. As I coddled my wounded side, I rolled myself into a crouch, retracting the Vekenna to land at my feet. I scooped up the blade in my right hand. With a snarl scrawled across my face, I pressed my free hand harder against my side, willing power into the flowing fluid of life. I thrust my hand, drenched in gore, against the ground, the warm crimson seeping into the ground. With my will, I felt the ground quake and tremble. A plus in time with my throbbing heart stretched from my hand and through the ground. Thallos felt this first throb and rushed toward me. Rose, seeing his action, hurried to follow. 

The black, slick, shining floor shifted and rippled with life as my uncle closed in. I raised a wall of stone and iron supports between him and me. He vaulted over the barrier, as I expected, and fell into the pit I laid just on the other side of that wall. 

Rose skirted around the wall and raced towards me at a speed that could only have been managed with Resonance Myst and Lumina Myst enhancing her movements. I sent a ripple of stone towards her, but she leaped over the minor wave of stone with ease. I rolled back, away from her as she closed the distance and raised my Vekenna to block the strike I knew was coming. Her short sword came down at my shoulder in a chop. 

My blade raised in defense only just deflected the enhanced strike. Her blade hit my own and slid to strike the ground beside me. I slipped my left hand against my bloody side again before hurling my palm against Rose’s chest and unleashing a kinetic strike. The solid property of Earth applied to Air, giving it a form as solid and firm as stone, if only for a moment. I threw the Primal girl back from the force of the minor spell more than ten feet and over my hurriedly formed wall.

I only pulled that trick off just in time for Thallos to leap from my pit in an act of unnatural strength, clearly using Resonance and Lumina Myst himself. The Wild Elf rolled his neck in an overdramatic series of cracking. He shouldered his morning star even as Rose stepped around the wall I made. I crawled backward on my back and elbows as they closed in, clearly seeing me as an easy target. 

I watched on in horror as my uncle closed in on me with an amused smile on his face, and Rose stepped up beside him, fingering her short sword like a toy. They had beaten me time and time again. Match after match, duel after duel, I was put to the metaphorical dirt in the room of black tile. They saw me as a failure. A broken boy that was little more than a mental retard. Failure after failure, they had been putting me down, and I wasn’t about to go down again. 

I had had enough. I was angry, venomous, and vindictive. With my teeth clenched in an open snarl, I drew deep from my Mystwell. I drew upon elements thought too dangerous to use. I pulled Ruin Myst, Distortion Myst, and Umbra Myst, and I pulled deep, drawing as much as I could until I felt I could draw no more. Threads of magenta, vermillion and black reached from my wound, consuming all blood they came into contact with before weaving down the length of my arm. 

Thallos and Rose closed in with their mocking expressions, and I released a wave of pure energy. A wave of black, magenta, and vermillion threads spread in a wave of webs from my outstretched hand. This wave of raw energy touched each of them and erupted. The moment those threads made contact, they bloomed in a flower of force and energy enough to ruin a castle wall. 

Rose and Thallos were each hurled back with enough force to cripple a squad of men from just what I had rushed to pull together in a panic. Thallos struck the wall I had made with an audible snap of bone, and Rose was sent even farther.

The force of my spell shook the foundations of the room and possibly even further. It took me a long moment to realize that what I had released was far more Vells than I had intended. I only attempted to use five Vells at most, but I must’ve used ten or more. That force may full well have broken my uncle and Rose to the point of crippling. This thought had only barely crossed my mind as Tessa rushed in utter panic toward Thallos. She laid her hands on him, and when a wound would normally glow, his whole body began to shine. 

It was at about that point that I noticed that I wasn’t feeling well. My body was grasped by a chill. My thoughts were muddled and foggy, and my vision began to swim. It was hard to breath, and my legs left like pudding. With my strength leeched from my very bones, I became as lame as a newborn calf. I looked on, struggling to catch my breath as Tessa healed Thallos, panic writ plain on her face. I gasped for air even as the Gnomish girl moved from healing Thallos to Rose, beyond my line of sight. 

It wasn’t long before I found a staggering Thallos and a hobbling Rose standing over me as I gasped for air. Even as my lungs filled, I found myself starved for something. A hollow feeling in my chest that sought for something beyond my body.

“Iver, why in the hells would you use that!?” Thallos demanded, but his words were distant with a far echo.

“Iver? Are you alright?” Came Rose’s voice from just as far off. 

“He’s not okay.” came Tessa.

“Of course not.” Thallos echoed as he glared down at me. “He used Ruin Myst.”

Tessa crouched beside me, her hands on my heaving chest. 

“What does that mean?” Rose asked in a panic.

“Ruin Myst is incredibly inefficient and consumes a large amount of energy both in Vells and in the personal cost of the caster.” Thallos intoned.

“Which means what?” Rose asked.

“Normally, the personal cost for Ruin Myst is the caster’s restraint, which is just as much a reason for the school’s ban as the result of casting the element. It's common for a Mage to fly off the handle after using too much Ruin Myst. But because Iver is immune to the personal cost of each element, the destructive element took its proverbial pound of flesh from his veins.”

Those words threw me into a panic. I just paid an extra toll for a sparring match? If I lost too much blood from spell casting, I could easily kill myself. Or worse, I could cause severe brain damage from the blood loss. If I was a retard now, with a damaged mind, what would I be if I went too far with Ruin? A drooling idiot unable to perform even simple math? Or a frothing lunatic?

Only after a few moments of Tessa’s touch I pulled myself together enough to sit up. I saw worry in the Gnomish girl’s eyes, but Thallos was the first to draw my attention.

“Boy, you just used a banned element in utter panic. I know you well enough that you would not pull that out in a moment of minor stress. I’ve seen something eating away at you for the past two months.” 

I was about to speak in my defense when Thallos held up a hand for silence. “You have failed dozens of matches. I’ve seen your scores on the recent tests. Something has been eating at you. What is the issue?”

As I pulled myself to a sitting position, I chewed at my bottom lip. To buy time, I reeled in my Vekenna and collapsed it. I didn’t want to admit the issue. It would be a sign of weakness. I didn’t feel like I could be honest with these three. They would only mock me and see my weakness as a way to push me even further down the hell pit I was already falling down. 

“It-it was an accident.” I claimed with a stammer that I knew sounded half-hearted.

“You don’t just pull on a banned myst element by accident, Iver.” Thallos pointed out, his tone far too easy for the weight of his words.

“What do you mean?” Rose asked in obvious confusion.

“I mean that something has been bothering him.” Thallos explained. “He has let something fester in his head so deep that it made him reflexively pull on a dangerous force.”

“Is that true, Ive’? Something’s been causing you trouble? You’ve lost the last batch of matches, but is there a reason?”

“What? No. I’ve just been frustrated with the past few months.” I lied.

“Boy, you need to work on your deception if you want to pull that card with me.” Thallos said sternly.

“Come on, Ive’, looking back, I can see that something’s been bugging you these past few weeks.” Rose said.

“No.” I proclaimed.

“Boy!” Thallos demanded. “Don’t lie to me.”

I knew I was caught and had no choice. I was about to be mocked and torn apart because of my weakness. This issue that had been eating at me.

I lowered my head in shame, my fists clenched. “You said that I was damaged.” I muttered.

“What?” Thallos and Rose asked in unison.

“Uncle, you said I was a retard. That it was the reason why you let me talk to you the way I do because I feared authority.”

“And how does that equal damage?” Thallos queried.

I gave him a look that told him how stupid that question sounded.

“If I’m a retard, that means I’m damaged. If I’m damaged, that means that I can’t perform as desired because I’m broken. If I’m broken, that means I’m weak, I can’t be fixed, and I’m a waste of time, food, space, and carbon.” By the end of my equation, I was snarling with venom.

Rose looked at me as if I were mad, and Thallos massaged his brow in his hands.

“Iver. boy,” Thallos started, “I meant the retard comment as a way of saying that your head is wired differently than most others. If I call you a retard, I don’t mean that you’re broken. What I am saying is that you learn differently than others, or you need different help than others. In your case, I mean both.”

“Both!” I panicked. 

“Calm yourself, boy.” Thallos demanded. “Having different mental wiring doesn’t make you any worse than others. If it makes you feel any better, then go talk to that doctor who had been patching you up before Tessa.”

“Dr. Brooksheen?” I asked.

“Whoever you trust to examine you. Tessa doesn’t have experience or training to diagnose you.” 

“What?” Tessa asked in indignation.

“Sorry, girl,” Thallos said to her, “But I doubt you have the training to recognize mental trauma or abnormal brain chemistry.”

“Well, no,” Tessa muttered, “That was supposed to come next year.”

“Then my point stands, girl.” Thallos stated, his words as stalwart as stone. “If you would be so kind as to take him to the doctor who can explain his condition, it would be of great help to both he and I.”

I watched as Tessa’s eyes filled with tears before she gave a deep bow to my uncle. “Of course, Mystagogue.”

“What is this all about?” asked Rose, her tone showing how frantic she was getting.

“Calm yourself.” Thallos demanded. “If it helps you smooth the wrinkles in your brain, think of it this way. The boy is going to ask about his head problems with a doc. She’ll tell him what’s wrong and how to fix it.”

Thallos turned back to Tessa, “Take him to the doc and have her give some advice on how to learn and train. For that matter, have her give you advice on how to help him learn when he hits a rough patch.”

Tessa gave a dramatically deep bow for her tiny frame, but I noticed the tears falling from her eyes as she bowed. “Yes, Mystagogue.”

Without another word, I followed Tessa to the elevator. As the doors slid shut and she swept her B.I.C over the scanner, I tried to think of how to broach my question. She seemed upset but was clearly trying to hide it. Was that how I was coming across to everyone else? Poorly and desperately trying to hide that I was upset?

After a few moments with a silence so thick you could have cut it with a knife, I decided to just get to the point. “Is everything ok, Tess?”

“Yeah.” she muttered, refusing to meet my eyes.

“I saw those tears. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Tess, I’m gonna keep pushing till you give me the story.”

“You promise not to make fun of me?” 

I furrowed my brow at the question. “Tessa, when have I ever made fun of you?”

“You haven’t… yet.”

“There’s no ‘yet’ about it, Tess. Short of you pulling an unbelievably stupid act, it’s not going to happen.”

“What would you count as stupid?”

My gaze drifted to the mirrored ceiling as I put some thought to my answer. “Well, for one, selling your soul to a devil or getting into drugs,” I started counting off on my fingers. “Getting into an arm-wrestling match with a minotaur, or trying to ride an untamed drake, maybe even trying to get caught up in political games with Elves.”

She gave an amused snort. “It’d have to be that bad?”

“For me to mock you with malicious intent, yes. Other than that, the worst I’ll do is some light verbal jabbing. So what’s up?”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, rising up on her toes as she inhaled and rocking back on her heels as she exhaled. When she looked up at me, there was a dark aqua blush to her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, only to freeze and shut her mouth. She shook her head as she turned away. “It’s stupid.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” I said with a patient, small smile.

Tessa gave a huff of a sigh in aggravation, her arms folded over her chest if only for the moment before they fell limp at her sides. “When Mystagogue Kiem offered this specialized training, I lept at it. I wanted so badly to prove to anyone that I was a complainant healer. At some point along the way, you kinda… became a project for me.” she tentatively looked over her shoulder at me.

I gave her a single raised brow in question. “A project, you say. Can I ask what kind of project?”

“I wanted to be able to mend any of your wounds. I wanted to prove to Mystagogue Kiem, to you, and to myself that I could be successful without any help from another healer.”

“And learning that I’ve got problems that your magic can’t stitch together makes you feel like a failure?”

Her head sagged forward. “Yeah, basically.”

An amused huff slipped from my nose that almost ended in a snort. “Tess, just because my brain chemistry is off or I have overactive synapses, or whatever the issue is, it has nothing to do with you being a failure. The problem has probably been there from day one. That means there’s no hole in my gray matter to be filled, and I highly doubt that you have had sufficient training to carve a hole in my skull and poke around in the squishy mass of anxiety that is me.”

This time, it was Tess who let out a snort of amusement. “It can’t be that bad.”

It was at that moment that the car came to a stop, and the doors slid open with a woosh. Tessa stepped from the space, and I followed.

“Tessa, let me frame it to you this way. Until five minutes ago, I was completely sure that if I let slip the state that I was in, you, Rose, and my uncle would think me weak.” My gaze fell to the floor just ahead of me.

“Really?” bafflement was obvious in her tone.

I gave a wordless nod in answer even as I stared hard at the tile as we turned a corner. With my shame, I felt a powerful urge to hurry away, but I kept my stride small and pace low. 

“Iver, you know you don’t have to be the unbreakable guy. It’s okay to have feelings. It’s normal for feelings to get hurt from time to time. You really should trust Rose and your uncle. They only want to help, and telling them how you feel is what friends and family are there for.”

As we passed through the front gates of Aegis Hall, I scratched the back of my head nervously. “I’ve never really had anyone I could talk to about… this kind of thing.” My gaze rose to the clouded sky just through the mouth of the crater. “Until Thallos, the only family I had was my father, and he was an ass who thought that men should be strong at all times. And I’d never had a friend until this year.”

“Really?”

My hand dropped back to my side. I explained as we crossed the meadow between Aegis Hall and the Medical Center. “Yeah.” My thoughts grew distant with memory. “I’d never known what it was like to have friends before coming to the academy. And my father was never the warm and fuzzy type of man.” My father’s face flashed in my mind, closely followed by the scene of his bleeding corpse. I felt my fists clench with the flare of anger the image brought on. I had to force myself to stop grinding my teeth at the flashback.

We passed through the front doors of the Med Center, and Tessa led me through the waiting room with only a few words to the reception. We passed through doorway after doorway until Tessa gestured for me to enter an examination room and told me she would bring the doctor. As she turned to leave, I moved to catch her by the sleeve. What actually happened was me gripping the collar of her uniform, almost causing Tessa to fall off balance. When she turned back to me in puzzlement. 

“Hey, so regardless of how the talk with the doctor goes, would you mind following me back to my room? I’ve got something I want to give you.”

“Uh, sure. I guess.”

I gave her a wide grin of thanks as I let her go on her way.

It didn’t take long for the Wood Elf, Dr.Brooksheen, to enter the examination room with Tessa hot on her heels. The elderly Elf took a seat on the stool in the room before she asked me what was going on. I gave the kind matron rundown of everything I had been going through since day one. I wasn’t sure what was pertinent to the talk or how far back I should start. So I started with the bullying in my hometown, jumped to my father’s death, backtracked to how he treated me, and then jumped to the orphan period of my life. When I started explaining what I had been feeling at the academy, I started rambling as I started to fall into a panic attack.

As I wrapped up my state in the past two months, the doctor took off her glasses and cleaned them with a cloth as she spoke. “I think I’ve got the majority of the picture. You’ve never been diagnosed with any mental issues, but your uncle believes that you have some loose gears in your head. Am I right?”

I gave her an enthusiastic nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

She pocketed her cloth and remounted her glasses atop her nose before giving me a long, scrutinizing look. “I’ll be the hammer giving you this explanation, blunt and simple. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a condition or two.” My face fell at those words. “Oh, don’t be so disheartened by the news. Now, I won’t deny that there was a period in history when if you were diagnosed with even one of these so-called disabilities, you would have been strapped to a table and tortured until you were ‘cured’. But those times are long behind us. Even the days when you would not have been allowed to join the military or even an adventuring guild are behind us.”

“Really?” My eyes lit with hope.

The doctor gave a single nod, pointing a finger toward the ceiling and wagging it as she spoke.

“With the right training and, if needed, extended-release medication, anyone can enter the field.” She pressed her hands to her thighs as she leaned forward. “Now, let’s begin solving the riddle that is your mind.”

With those words, she proceeded to ask me a long series of questions that, at the time, seemed to be totally disconnected. Questions on my habits and hobbies, my social skills and experiences, the hardships I’ve faced, both those most difficult from my past and the daily struggle, my perspective on the world, fears, hopes, aspirations, and plenty of questions about the darker corners of my mind that made me feel extremely uncomfortable. But by the end, she had a clear answer for me.

“Well, Iver, I think I have an answer for you, my boy.” The doctor began. “You see, there would seem to be a couple of mental disconnects or disabilities that any species could have, but there are some that are more common among some species than others. Wild Elves are known to develop bipolar disorders more frequently than most. Hill Dwarves are prone to substance abuse. Sarthorran Ceangar are known to develop anxiety disorders. The list goes on.”

“So then, how broken am I?” I asked, fearful to even press the question.

“Broken? Young man, you aren’t broken. You have a problem that can be remedied with help from mentors and friends, given the chance and the knowledge. From how you have answered my questions, I would say that you have a series of issues that can be fixed.”

“Like what?” I asked, scared to hear the answer.

“You have symptoms from mild depression and severe general anxiety for sure. You display several of the markers for autism and display traits for bipolar disorder.”

“That sounds like an absolutely terrible diagnosis.” I muttered as I clutched my head between my hands.

I looked up to find the Wood Elf doctor giving me a kind and patient smile. “None of these are any cause to worry, young man. Your anxiety can be overcome by centering yourself and not losing your head when things get frantic or frightening, and I don’t just mean in the midst of battle. Getting anxious, nervous, or plain fearful in any situation counts, be it social, educational, or any other possible scenario where you feel stress. I’d recommend taking up regular meditation. Meditation would also help alleviate the symptoms of depression.”

“And what about the bipolar and thing? I thought that meant I would have random mood swings?” I asked.

“Well, what would you consider a mood swing?” She countered.

“Well, I…” I started but stopped as I considered the question. “Well, I always thought it was something like flying into a rage over a lost game or breaking down into tears over a broken cup.”

“Those are examples of a severe case. Most cases are much less dramatic. You even answered several of my diagnosis questions in a manner that hinted at this possibility.”

“How?”

“You find yourself easily aggravated. You’re prone to feeling helpless and doubting yourself even when you know you have no logical need to. You yourself said that you feel worthless at times.”

“Really? Hopelessness and not feeling good about myself equals bipolar? But then, what about depression? And if irritability is another sign, what about the anxiety bit?”

“The three are not mutually exclusive to each other.” The doctor went back to wagging her finger as she lectured. “In either case, the treatment is the same. Regular meditation, level-headed thought.”

“That can’t be it.” I protested. “Time thinking about the world and just not panicking when everything gets turned on its head. Isn’t there medication you can prescribe? A magic pill to uncross my wires?”

The doctor gave me a look of mild amusement as she sat back with her arms crossed. “I do hope you know that you just asked the impossible.”

“What?”

“I can prescribe you a medicinal concoction to help. But…” she emphasized the simple word, not only in tone but with a jabbing finger as well. “It is not an instant fix. It will help you manage your condition and perform better day-to-day. But…” She continued. “You will have to take the medication regularly, every morning, before you do anything else.”

“I think that’s doable.”

“Oh, and you will need to provide a week’s notice before you leave the academy for a quest so I can prepare enough Z.C.D Elixir.”

“Z.C.D Elixir?” I asked.

The doctor activated her therra node and began working with an interface only she could see, as she explained. “It stands for Zenith Crest Distillation elixir. Your daily elixir doses will be a custom concoction of herbal and chemical remedies with a calculated mixture of pre-aligned Resonance and Life Myst. Zenith Crest Distillation is a method of concentrating and condensing the concoction and mixing it with nanomachines for prolonged release over the course of a month.”

“That… sounds… complicated.” I drew out the words as I tried to understand the theory of what she was explaining.

“Well, child, you’re smart enough to know when a concept is too big to wrap your head around, but I have no doubt that if you dig a little deeper, your tinker’s mind will catch on quick.”

“How soon will the medication be ready?” I was eager for a fix to my dysfunction that I hadn’t even known was there until now. Having been told that something was wrong, I could feel it every moment. I had always wanted to be some form of normal. Be Human, with a caring father and present mother. To go to a normal school without worry of murder and to have friends who cared about me. But in that moment, I would have traded every one of those dreams if it meant I could function just like a normal person without fear.

“I’ll have your first month of doses ready before you leave the office. I’m tweaking the formula right now.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and wondered what it would feel like to be normal—or more normal at least.