"1051 days left" by Duvencrune, Edgar O. Diary of the Long Night, 111th Edition

Orlo was used to her lingering smell of milky lotion and the blend of coffee and jasmine embedded in the sheets. As he turned over, he realized he was already alone in the bed. Slowly, he sat up, rubbing his eyes and scanning the room while scratching his head.

His clothes lay scattered on the floor, the fire in the fireplace reduced to embers, allowing the cold to seep into his bare skin. Using his cane, he awkwardly picked up each piece of clothing, but his underwear was nowhere to be found. Sighing in resignation, he knelt painfully down, butt naked, and began searching under the bed.

Orlo couldn't find his underwear. He glanced over his shoulder and whispered, "Psst, little mouse, do you want cheese?"

As soon as he said the word "cheese," she appeared before him, a little white mouse holding his undies. "I want a big piece of cheese. A very big piece of cheese! I'm a Spirit! I'm the Dreamer! I'm the weaver of realities, and I'm holding... underwear. Your underwear!"

He took the garment from her tiny hands and dressed as quickly as he could, still feeling the soreness of the night. As he walked to the bathroom, Orlo turned on the water and splashed his face, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. Staring into the mirror, he checked again for something strange in his left eye. The source of the irritation or something that would explain the constant nagging in his eye, but nothing. It looked the same as the day before, but he still could feel it.

Orlo looked at the array of lotions and perfumes on the dresser. He uncorked one of the flasks, stealing a sip and splashing it onto his face and hair. The cool liquid soothed his skin and added a faint, pleasant scent to his red strands, which had grown almost to his chin.

As he ran his fingers through his hair, he thought about cutting it before Muna's Dois Trae. She had mentioned she preferred it short. Yet, with his twenty-first birthday approaching, the idea of cutting it felt inappropriate, almost unworthy. He was a Menschen, after all, and it seemed time to start embracing his identity fully.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted from downstairs.

They arrived.

Orlo's heart raced, pounding too fast in his chest. A sudden cold sweat broke out across his skin, the reality of their presence hitting him like a wave.

"Daddy!" Muna's voice rang out.

"Look at my princess!"

He knew he needed to go down to say hi, at least. But the thought of seeing her again filled him with dread, threatening to shatter everything.

His hands shook as he reached into his trousers pocket and pulled out a thin blindfold. He had worn it all through the last winter to conceal the discomfort in his eye he had been complaining about. So, it had become a habit, and no one had questioned it much. The blindfold was thin enough to see through, but it offered a veil of protection, both physical and emotional, from his own Hexe.

He finally steadied himself with the help of his cane and left the room. At the top of the stairs, he saw Redfred and Darra in an endearing hug, with Muna joining them, her laughter a light note in the air. Orlo's smile widened, ready to greet Redfred, but then he saw her, and he could have sworn his heart skipped more than just one beat.

Her hair had grown, wild locks falling over her shoulders, unrestrained by any braid. She stood rigidly, her hands clasped behind her back. What struck him most were her eyes, blindfolded with the handkerchief he had given her the day she left.

His breath caught in his throat.

He wanted to feel anger. He wanted to feel indifference—anything but the overwhelming thought that she had never looked more beautiful than she did now.

"Orlo, come here!"

Orlo continued his descent, forcing himself to look away from her. He extended a hand to Redfred. "Sir, welcome!"

Redfred stared at him for a moment as if seeing a ghost. "Oh, by the stars, you look just like him."

Orlo's hand hung in the air awkwardly until Redfred released a booming laugh. "But short like your mother!"

Orlo couldn't help but chuckle. "Happy to finally meet you, Sir," he replied, shaking the older man's hand firmly.

As they exchanged greetings, he couldn't help but glance back at her. Her blindfolded eyes seemed to see right through him.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

But he did nothing wrong; he just had moved on. As she did, too, right?

Dinner was strangely awkward for Orlo. At the head of the table sat Redfred, next to him his wife, Darra, and across from them was Muna. Orlo sat further down, directly across from Zora, both of them still wearing their blindfolds. The conversation flowed around him, but he felt disconnected, his attention fixated on Zora. He watched as she absentmindedly played with her food, not eating and only speaking when directly addressed.

"What are you going to wear?"

The question came almost out of nowhere. Zora took a moment to realize it was directed at her. She looked up, slightly startled. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What are you going to wear?" Muna asked again.

Zora hesitated, her fingers tightening around her fork. "I haven't really thought about it," she replied. "I was thinking of maybe my robe."

"No, you need to choose something else," Muna said firmly, her tone leaving little room for discussion.

Darra placed a calming hand over her daughter's to prevent an outburst. "Muna, Zora is a Magi now. It's her normal attire."

"I know she is a Magi now. It's all over her, hard not to notice!" Muna replied louder than intended.

"Muna, do you mean I can't wear my robe?" Redfred asked, his tone lacking any sympathy.

"You don't have an eight carved on your forehead. I mean, she doesn't need a robe to show she is a Magi. She can dress like the other girls! I'm not asking for anything insane. The dresses are beautiful and colourful, and it's just for one day," Muna explained.

"Fine, I'll wear the dress. It doesn't matter to me," Zora replied, still absentmindedly playing with her food.

"See, everything is alright. She will blend perfectly with the other girls," Muna said, serving herself more wine. "And it will keep her from disappearing into the shadows. Don't you agree, Orlo?"

Orlo felt a wave of panic. He had no idea what was right or wrong in this situation. "Well, I do understand that..." He knew as soon as he started speaking that he would regret it. "That your Dois Trae is drenched in Menschen tradition, but over the tradition of a birthday, the Magi mantel is seen as more... traditional. Wouldn't it be well seen, having two Magis at your party?"

Muna's eyes flashed. "Exactly, my party. We do what I want. I only need one Magi, and Zora can join the girls. Maybe like that, she finds herself a boyfriend."

There was a sudden thud as Redfred's hand slammed onto the table. "You apologize immediately to Zora right now. I will not allow disrespect in my own house."

"What did I say?"

"Muna, now!"

"I didn't say anything! She's not a lesbian like she said she was all this time. She tried to seduce Orlo while he woe me before she went aboard! I'm not going to sit here and pretend nothing happened. She just likes to get all the attention, like always," Muna snapped.

"Muna!"

"Oh, are we going to pretend she didn't get that fucking eight on her forehead and is showing it off the same moon I turned twenty-three? Are you serious?"

Zora placed her fork down carefully on her plate and stood up.

"I will wear the dress Muna wants. There's no need for... debate," Zora said calmly, "If you'll excuse me, I am going to my room."

Without another word, she left the table, her steps echoing in the uncomfortable silence that followed. Orlo felt a surge of helplessness and anger. Muna's words had been cruel, reopening old wounds that had never healed.

Redfred turned to Muna. "That was completely out of line, Muna. You need to apologize properly."

Muna crossed her arms, her expression stubborn. "I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking."

"Enough," Darra interjected. "This is supposed to be a celebration. Zora deserves respect, especially from her own family."

"She is not family!"

Zora walked away, feeling every eye on her as she tried to calmly ascend the stairs without breaking into a run. Each step felt heavier than the last.

Finally reaching her room, she closed the door behind her and slid to the floor. She wanted to cry, but she felt too mentally exhausted to even shed tears. Her eyes fell on her luggage, still closed on the bed, and she thought maybe she should unpack.

She stood up and opened the closet, and as she did, she noticed the passage to Orlo's room. It was sealed with a wooden plank and nailed shut with far more nails than necessary.

Looking back at her luggage, she realized the futility of unpacking if she was going to leave soon. Suddenly, the idea of Sorgenstein seemed less daunting. At least there, she might find some peace and purpose.

She wished she could run to Jaer's tent back at the camp and talk to him. He would know what to say and how to make her feel understood and less alone. She missed her rock.

The room felt cold and unwelcoming, the walls closing in on her. She needed to do something, anything, to break the suffocating silence. She reached for her blindfold, taking it off and gently placing it on the bedside table. The world looked different; it looked more real.

She finally opened her luggage and began to unpack, each item a small step toward reclaiming some semblance of normalcy. As she folded her clothes and placed them in the closet, she couldn't help but glance at the sealed passage again.

She still had Claramae's letter to give him.

My Little Carrot, It pains me deeply to share this news—Godmama, Cece of Faewood, has passed away. But, Orlo, do not let your heart be troubled. It was a peaceful end; she returned to the soil, as is our way. She adored you; she loved you, perhaps even more than she did your father. She left us with a cleansed heart, filled with love and missing you dearly. I miss you too, my little boy, and hold onto hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Yet, I believe the ache in our hearts will only truly mend when Maggie walks among us again—and I have every faith that she will! If anyone can turn the impossible into the possible, it's my little carrot head. Though my words bear sad news, it is really about hope. Remember, faeries may leave, but they also return, all we need is good soil and some drops of water and one day, you and Cece will be reunited. The Faewood dome has vanished, as Maddie informed me in her last letter. The colony has relocated to Adelberan, but Maddie chose to stay behind, just in case any of our lost sisters find their way back home. But I don't have much faith in that right now. I miss you so much and can't wait for the day we meet again. If fate decides otherwise, know that I love you deeply, regret my past mistakes, and hope for your forgiveness. Yours truly, Claramae from Faewood PS: I met an elf that reminded me of you. She is pretty, she had the same eyes as your mother. — by Duvencrune, Edgar O. Diary of the Long Night, 111th Edition

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