The illusion of running

"Thank you. It is a pleasure doing business with you." Jake said, paying the man several thousand dollars extra, before walking out of the dealership and driving off in his car. Although the man was pleased by the generosity of this Mr. Sparrow, he would later come to regret selling the car to him when he lost his job.

Jake Marksport, aka Tipare Sparrow, cruised down the highway at an incredible clip. This is why he needed a sports car, he was pushing it for all it was worth. The speedometer read that he was going 245 MPH. Not bad, not bad at all. Especially considering that the feds were certainly less than an hour behind him.

Today wasn't a bad day for Jake, but it wasn't an easy day either. A police officer started tailing him, so he pulled over. When the officer addressed him, he knew that this guy was going to be easy to take care of the usual way.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm going to need to see a driver's license and proof of registration." The officer said. Calmly, Jake handed him his license, and started talking to him.

"Well, officer, isn't it a wonderful day for a drive? I just got this car and wanted to test its performance. Do you like it? It's pretty nice, right?"

"Yes, sir this is a rather nice car, but do you know how fast you were going?"

"Why of course I do! I was going all of a whopping 65 miles per hour, wasn't I? Ah, such a shame, knowing it could go so much faster. Wait, is that why I got pulled over? Oh, that's it isn't it! It's illegal to have one of the fastest cars in the world and not drive as fast as it can go, am I right? Or, wait, was it something else? Maybe a broken tail-light?"

"Yes sir. It's fine that you were going 65, and really you should do well to keep it at that speed. It was the taillight that got you pulled over Mr. Valquez. You need to make sure you get it replaced as soon as possible."

"But I just replaced it, officer, does that mean we're good to go?" The officer walked around to the back of the car and saw the taillight of the vehicle was working. Walking around to the door again, the officer thanked him for taking care of the light. "Of course, officer. Safety is the most important thing. Could you possibly do me a favor?"

"Sure, what is it you need Mr. Valquez?"

"Well, it's just there is going to be a car coming along this route with a federal license plate soon. It'll probably be driving much faster than the speed limit in the same general direction as I am. I'm concerned about the safety of all parties on the road. Please make sure other drivers are safe, mention to them the speed limit if they don't follow it."

"Now, sir, I would care to remind you that it is my job to pull over people who are suspicious or driving dangerously. If anyone passes me by, I will make sure they know the rules of the road. I don't need you to remind me of my job!"

"Of course, officer. I'm sorry, I know you work hard to protect us all. You're a hero, you put your life at risk every day you leave for work. You even make those judgment calls when people are armed and dangerous. I should never have doubted you. Have a good day!" The police officer waved goodbye, and watched Jake as he drove off at a ludicrous speed.

Getting back in his own patrol car, the Officer Miller was not surprised at all when shortly afterward, the exact vehicle Mr. Valquez had mentioned went speeding past at several hundred miles per hour. Enraged by this act of outright endangerment of citizens, Officer Miller chased them down, pulling them over. When he went to talk to them, they pulled out their badges.

"Listen, Officer Miller" Jason Spectre said while glancing at the police officer's nametag, "I desperately need to keep moving. A suspect in a federal crime is on the move, and the longer you hold us up, the farther ahead of us he gets. We need you to cooperate with us."

Of course, Officer Miller was prepared for this. When he was in training, it was clearly stated the procedures he had  to follow in situations like robberies, hold ups and the like. Removing the clasp on his holster, Officer Miller calmly tried to convince the criminals to lower their weapons.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to put that down" Miller stated calmly. Jason put down his badge, hoping the officer was listening to reason. Jason's partner, Felicia, reached for the bottle of water she had between their seats

"Alright, so I am guessing we're good to go, now? Will you let me go so I can catch the guy?" Jason asked, unsure if the police officer was really cooperating or not.

Seeing the accomplice trying to pull a gun from between the car seats, Officer Miller snatched the gun out of his holster, with one swift movement turning the safety off, and pointed it at the criminals. He ordered them to put their weapons down. The female crook wasn't responding to demands. When the female failed to listen, Officer Miller had no choice but to fire, but at least he would be a hero, saving millions of innocent civilians. One clean shot, and the woman's left hand was torn through by the red hot sting of a bullet.

The water bottle exploded in her hand, and bloody water spattered all over Felicia. Instinctively, she grabbed her gun from her right side, beside her, and fired at the police officer. She hit his shoulder, but it wasn't the one he was using to hold the gun. He shot back, this time the result was fatal. Jake was disappointed, there was only one option left he could think of.

"Officer Miller, you have a message" Jason said, pressing the button on the side of his car that turned on the stereo. A blaring electronic sound came from the car speakers, and the police officer froze in place. A few moments later, he seemed to come to his senses. "You have been manipulated, and killed a federal agent while aiding in the escape of a federal criminal."

"I don't know, what happened? Why am I standing here? No, no, I didn't shoot. Surely I didn't shoot. This can't be." Officer Miller was going through a mental breakdown. This was one of the well-known side effects of the MSRA, Mind Sweep Restoration Apparatus. He just relived all the moments since he was hypnotized as they actually happened. He was realizing he was a murderer, having no reason to kill anyone today. Miller wasn't the first, and probably not the last if this pace kept up.

Jake arrived at the hotel he planned to stay the night at. Pulling out a real $100 bill, he asked if it would be enough to cover a night. The clerk laughed, saying he should try more, like three of them. Thanking the clerk for the information, he quickly slipped the $100 into a pocket, grabbing three slips of poorly adorned paper. Handing them to the clerk, he asked what his room number would be.

Taking the $300 Mr. Sparrow offered, Marvin handed him the key to room 425. Instructing him on the usual procedures of the hotel, he asked the man if he wanted any services (wake up call, turn down), but the man replied that he would be doing perfectly fine by himself. He seemed very gracious. Before the man could leave, Marvin mentioned to him that there was a minibar located in his hotel room, and that the first two items from within it were at no charge. Then pulling out a counterfeit bill marker, Marvin ran the marker over the notes. When the marker crossed the bill, it changed... the bill seemed to waver a bit, although still on the desk. Suddenly, the bills turned into paper with the number 100 scrawled on the front and back in poor handwriting.

"Excuse me, sir!" Marvin called out, while hitting a button beneath the desk. If the man didn't pay him, he was going to flip the now-active silent alarm switch. The man turned around, and walked calmly back. Thinking to himself about how smug this counterfeit bastard was, acting like he owned the place, he confronted the man about how the bills were obviously fake.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, fake?" Keeping calm, Jake assessed the situation. He glanced at the desk, and saw there was a counterfeit detection marker laying down on it. Obviously this clerk hadn't fully believed that he had such copious amounts of cash with him, or he wouldn't have broken free of the illusion. Honestly, counterfeit detection markers, small details, sometimes these were enough for the average person to disbelieve his otherwise well-crafted deceptions.

"I'm talking about how you gave me three scraps of paper with 100 written on them. If you do not pay, I will have to ask you to return your room key, please." Marvin responded, angry that this man was even looking to deny having given him fake money. However, in the time he had taken to mention this, something else was nagging at the back of Marvin's mind. How, given his lifelong experience with money, how could he have mistaken those slips of paper for the real thing?

"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry! I seem to have accidentally given you some of the scrap paper I had in my pocket! I have a hard time keeping up with what I have stored where in my pockets sometimes. I bet those had my important phone numbers on them, didn't they?" Jake replied. The man at the counter seemed to completely balk at his suggestion, but when he looked at the slips of paper again, a shocked expression flashed across his face before he seemed to turn red from embarrassment.

"My most heartfelt apologies. Here, let me take those from you, I need those numbers. In exchange, here is the payment for my room." Jake handed him three genuine bills this time. They were only three dollars, but being actual money, they wouldn't cause the same problem as the paper fakes had. Taking the three slips of paper back, he watched as the man ran the marker over each bill. When the color didn't change, he assumed they were real. Technically, he was right. They just weren't the same monetary value as he believed they were.

"Umm, sorry about the mix-up. I should have noticed that earlier. I mean, umm, I would hate to think that I might have taken your important numbers." Marvin said, confused. How had he made two huge errors like that. He could have sworn that the original transaction had money, but then suddenly it was just paper. He also would have sworn that the numbers scrawled on the paper had all been 100s, but when he looked a second time, they were various phone numbers in elaborate handwriting. Surely he couldn't be wrong about that too. What was the most odd was that the gentleman, Mr. Sparrow, had a reasonable explanation for all of it. The bills he had handed over were authentic, at least. In the back of his mind, Marvin was still worried though, something just felt wrong.

Jake headed up to his room. Enjoying his first free beverage from the minibar, he turned on the news. A report was on about a little girl who had been abducted earlier in the week. After that, they gave the weather forecast. It looked to be a relatively pleasant week. As Jake prepared to turn off the television and write up a few last-minute provisions, there was a local news report about a police officer who apparently shot a federal officer. Jake recognized the weak-minded fool immediately, it was the same officer whom he had tricked just earlier that day. Jake thought to himself that news travels fast.

"Officer Miller has not yet made any official statement. The chief of police has stated that a formal investigation of the surrounding events has begun. For more details about this and other news, visit our websit..." The newscaster reported. Jake turned off the television. Moving over to the small table in his room, he pulled out a pen and some paper from the drawer on his bedside table, and began to write a quick note.

An hour later, Marvin still had that strange feeling at the back of his mind that something wasn't right. He opened the register again, and took out the $100 bills. Running the marker over them again, he still saw no result. Then, holding the bills up to the light to look at the watermark, they once again seemed strange. However, they were legitimately $100, except for that feeling he had. He took a closer look by holding the bills up to the desk lamp, and saw the bills change from $100 each to a single dollar each. He suddenly held in his hand an amazing $3, leaving him shorted by $297 of what he should have been paid. He hurriedly pressed the button again, re-arming the silent alarm, but this time he flipped the switch too. The police would soon be on their way to arrest the crook.

Driving around, Jason wasn't having any luck trying to locate where the felon had gone. Suddenly, his scanner picked up a dispatch call for the local police. Turning the radio up, he overheard the location, figuring that at the very least he could head there and see if the dispatch had anything to do with the man he was looking for.

"We have a two one one Sam on 601 West Arenas Road..." The dispatcher said, Jason knew that was a hotel. Given that his target had been on the move for over 18 hours, it was likely that he might have stopped for the night. Also, the dispatch code was for a silent alarm, which might be caused if he had tried to pay with mind-tricks instead of actual money. Jason headed to the desert springs hotel.


When Jason arrived, he asked the clerk about the alarm, noting that there didn't seem to be a disturbance in the lobby. The clerk, after seeing Jason's badge, gave him the information he requested. When Jason arrived at room 425, he used the keycard the clerk had given him. Opening the door cautiously, he pulled out his gun. The man was tricky, and Jason didn't want to give him a chance for any funny business.


Jake was still sitting at the table, just out of view of the door when he heard a click from the lock, as someone began to open it. Figuring it was probably his pursuers, he began to read what he had written aloud.


Jason heard a man in the room start speaking, but at first he couldn't make out what was being said. As he jumped around the corner with his gun in his hand, he was startled to see Jake Marksport sitting quietly at a table, reading something aloud.


"Stand up, and turn around, now!" Jason yelled. Jake Marksport continued reading what he had written, and Jason repeated his warning, preparing to fire should Jake fail to comply with his demands again. Jake stopped reading, and stood up. Lifting his hands, he turned around very slowly.


"I never thought you would capture me so easily. I've been on the run for just over 18 hours, and somehow you managed to catch me. I must say, I am more impressed by how efficient our Federal Agents are every hour. You are certainly an exemplary man. May I ask your name?" Jake said calmly.


"You don't need to know my name... get down on the floor, and put your hands behind your back. You are under arrest." Jason started, but Jake interrupted him before he could finish.


"Now, now, no need to be pushy, I'll do what you say, but please just tell me your name first. After all, you already know everything about me. Surely you could at least give me that?" Jake said as he calmly moved into the position on the floor he had been told to take.


"You can call me Spectre. Now..." Jason was going to finish following the procedure, but once again, Jake interrupted.


"I'm sorry to hear about your partner. I heard about it on the news. It's sad to lose someone you work closely with. Hey, at least now you've done what you were assigned to do, right? Surely that honors her memory. Strange, though, how she was killed. I wonder how that happened. I didn't catch the details." Jake said, with the sound of sincerity. 


Jason demanded that Jake remain quiet, and he finished reciting his rights. He led Jake out of the building, and took him to the cruiser, placing him in the back. It was unusual to have someone so willing to comply, so Jason asked him why he had come so willingly. Jake's answer was simple.


"You win some, you lose some. I know when I've lost. Honestly, there was no way for me to escape. There was only one door out of that room, and we were on the fourth story, there was no way I was going to get away from you. Besides, I have respect for anyone who can manage to accomplish what you have."


Jason took Jake back to headquarters, thinking about how his partner had died a meaningless death at the hands of a police officer working with his target. Somehow this felon had contacts in the law enforcement. Jason suddenly felt strange. That wasn't right. Jason thought about it. There was almost no chance that Jake Marksport had known that police officer. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't tell what it was. As Jason reached headquarters, he was getting more concerned about the case. Jake Marksport, after doing all that running, had just given up. That didn't seem normal either.


"At least I still got my two free drinks out of that mini-bar before I left." Jake said in an offhand manner. Jason thought about the hotel, they could handle the cost of two drinks. That was nothing compared to several hundred dollars. Thinking back to the room, Jason suddenly realized that he had only seen one bottle on the table. Turning on his console-tv, he tuned it into the news, and saw a report about a man having mistakenly tripped a silent alarm. 


"Wait, mistakenly tripped? But that clerk had obviously done the right thing. You were trying to fool him somehow, right?" Then it hit Jason, the hypnosis, the slight of hand, the ways that Jake Marksport had managed to get as far as he had. Turning around in his seat, he checked the back, and saw that Jake was still sitting there, with a smile on his face.


"What's wrong, Jason? You look a little pale! Are you ok?" Jake said, expressing an obviously disdainful concern. Jason asked him a single question, the one question that would help him clear his mind.


"You called me Jason. I never told you my first name. How did you know it?" Jason asked. Jake didn't respond, and Jason knew that he had probably had been tricked. Suddenly, Jason remembered the system. Turning off the console's TV, he turned on the MSRA. A screech melted his vision, and he suddenly relived everything that had just happened.


"Stand up, and turn around, now!" Jason yelled. Jake Marksport continued reading what he had written, and Jason repeated his warning, preparing to fire should Jake fail to comply with his demands again. Jake stopped reading, and stood up. 

"I must comply to your demands, or you'll shoot me, so I do. I comply. I must say how very impressed I am. Would you tell me your name?" Jake said, as he turned around.

"You can call me Spectre."

"I see, Mr. Spectre. I'm sorry to hear about your partner. I heard about it on the news. It's sad to lose someone you work closely with. Hey, at least now you've done what you were assigned to do, right? Surely that honors her memory. I don't know the details, but I heard about it. But what would I know, right?" Jake said, moving over to the mini-bar. As he opened it, pulling out his second beverage.


"So, tell me how you figured out where I am. After all, you can clearly see I'm doing exactly what you want. I'm totally helpless, and giving into your demands. You'll probably be taking me away soon, so just a bit more info before we go." Jake demanded.


"Police scanner, silent alarm, it was a hunch, needed to find you. Why aren't you resisting?" Jason replied, the question making plenty of sense to Jake. With a smile on his face, Jake watched Jason walk out the door. Following behind him a short distance, he replied.


"You win some, you lose some. I know when I've lost. Surely, there was no way for me to escape. There was only one door out of that room, and we were on the fourth story, there was no way I was going to get away from you. Besides, I have respect for anyone who can manage to accomplish what you have. Did you know that this hotel gave me two free drinks from the minibar in my room? I think that's a nice touch. They have both been very good. Goodbye, Mr. Spectre." As the doors to the elevator closed, Jason glimpsed the note Jake had put in his pocket.


When he came to his senses, Jason realized that he had been driving back with an empty cruiser. Checking his pocket, he read the note that had been stashed there.


"You shall find that you are hypnotized, normally, I don't use this type of directness, but you're a special case, aren't you? After I have stopped reading this note, you will suddenly find that I am giving you verbal information that will be completely true, and I have no doubt that you shall find it all very useful." The note said, however, there was something scribbled on the back, which Jake had obviously not read when he was in the room with Jason.


"Well, I'll be finding out your name soon, by the time you have read this, you will most likely be quite some distance from me. I wouldn't worry too much about trying to find me. I am, after all, quite an ingenious fellow. I could probably evade pursuit for as long as I need. You may be wonder why I did what you consider a 'felony'. Truth be told, I wanted to challenge myself. Surpassing one's own limits is surely the path to greatness. I'll remember you fondly, whomever you might be. Maybe one day, we'll meet again. Should that happen, I hope you remember fondly all the time we spent together. Sincerely, Jake Marksport"

Finals week

Waking up in a cold sweat, David was not surprised that once again when trying to sleep he had nightmares. The past several weeks, he had been plagued by them. Looking out his window, he thought he saw one of them still grazing about in the front yard. The pesky horses known to cause bad dreams seemed to have migrated into the general area of his bedroom. Most likely they grazed outside his window at night.

Getting up in an attempt to get ready for his tedious day, David was unsure what he would make of his situation. It was the last day of his wizardry exams. He had studied several of the classes' materials in depth, but on other things he just hadn't had time. Of course, the big problems were the papers. Two of his courses required lengthy papers, which had to be written via spell but contain original content. One of them wasn't so bad, the review on the effects of various arcane forces on several spells designed specifically for the purpose of artistic expression and entertainment. He had, naturally, finished that paper, but the other paper he was only halfway finished writing.

Looking over his parchment, he saw several areas where we was sufficiently devoid of content. He had to teleport to his class right away to turn in the finished essay. In several minutes, his spell was completed, and he found himself being pulled along through non-space by arcane forces at an incredible clip. Only wizards and a few sorcerers could travel by teleportation though, in truth many people had purchased trinkets from a number of high-class wizards that allowed them to teleport at will. Technically speaking, it only seemed like teleportation to the observer, but the actual art of teleportation spells were difficult to manage. They threw the teleporting person out on the other side with terrible accuracy. If the person doing an actual teleportation spell wasn't careful, they could find themselves in some very undesirable places, but that was not important for David to think upon.

The other paper was important, so while he was being rushed onward by the arcane, he brooded upon his other paper. This paper, which accounted for a huge portion of his final grade for that class, was supposed to be a list of somatic components, spell components (with price), verbal components, and description of effect for a new spell. That's right, the final for the class was to essentially design a new spell which could be castable (even if it wasn't possible with the current known elements). He didn't have to prove that it could be cast, and the ingredients could be as exotic or common as he chose. The somatic and verbal components could be as lengthy or as short as necessary too. The point was that there should be a desirable effect, and in magical theory it should work. Undoubtedly this was the most complex assignment he had ever faced, with the exception of the curses class he took the previous semester.

Thinking back on the curses class made him sick. He had passed it, somehow. He wasn't really sure what it was that had led to his passing the class, considering how poorly he performed in class. His curses class had been a headache. It had also been boils, warts, loss of hair, accelerated tooth decay, blindness, and at one point a coma. Seriously, he was almost positive that he was going to fail the class. The teacher had thought that the best way to learn how to cast the curse was to see them while being cast, and to experience the effects firsthand. Every student in the class had been horribly violated by the witch who was teaching. The first week seemed fine, but that was only the intro to the class, where she spoke about the theory behind curses. David supposed that if the entire class had been like that, he would have handled it just fine. Instead, the very next week she cast blindness and deafness on the class, with a verbal component on blindness and a somatic component on deafness that each made them expire by the next class period. The horror of it all was enough to start mumbling amongst the students. Then came the hair loss, then boils, then warts... these led to several students dropping out of the class, in hopes that when they took it the following semester, they could sign up for the class with the other professor (which supposedly was a delightful time). When the class content began to favor tooth decay and coma, one student was so horrified that he left the class immediately, and never returned. Word of the horrors of this class eventually reached the ears of the dean, and he instructed the professor that she needed to avoid casting such serious curses on the students for the sake of their learning. She ended up not teaching the paralysis curse and the torture curse on the students, but she still required that they all knew how to perform them.

Ultimately, the students that survived the course came away scarred, but with good grades. The students supposed that she might have been forced to change her grades, or lose her job. Regardless of why she gave passing grades, the students didn't complain. Better to pass alive, than have to take the class again.

The many names of Zelda

Recently, I did something seemingly unthinkable. I read up on the locations of various towns in Zelda 2: The Adventure of Link. Personally, I could go without this game based on what I've heard (but I could be wrong, maybe it is better than I've been led to believe... after all I've always loved Zelda games in which you could preform magic).

What caught my eye, though, was how prevalent the names of towns in this particular Zelda game have become in the remainder of the series! I'll start out with some of the more readily available names, and work my way to less memorable ones.

Rauru, the famous Sage of Light from OoT originally was the name of one of the first towns in the The Adventure of Link. Ruto, the name of the race of Bird-like people descendant of the Zora clan, was originally the name of a town as well. Remember Death Mountain in OoT? Yeah, that was also named before then, Death Mountain was a location in Adventure of Link. Saria, Sage of the Forest? Yeah, she was originally a town... of water. If you ever played Wind Waker, you might remember Spectacle Isle/Eyeglass Isle, which seems eerily similar to "Spectacle Rock" from The Adventure of Link. How about Mido, the annoying brat Kokiri who refuses to let you pass him without a shield and sword, or playing Saria's song? Yeah, guess what, named after a port town in TAoL. How about Nabooru, the wise Sage of Spirit in OoT, who happened to be named after a town from TAoL. Darunia was also named after a town, one on a mountain, in fact. That would certainly explain why the name was given to a Goron elder. Of course, Death Valley from TAoL could be considered related to the Gerudo Valley and its infamous Haunted Wasteland... but the connection isn't as direct.

My point is that however much I never played this game, and didn't feel I needed to play it in order to know the premise of the Zelda Storyline, I found it amazing how frequently Zelda has gone back to some of its roots to use old names for new characters/locations/races. I'm sure for players who played TAoL, these names recurring in newer games has been akin to an easter egg. I, for one, am just a bit surprised as to how many towns/locations in TAoL were reused.

Oh, Miyamoto and Zelda team, how your mysteries continue to astound me, and please me to no end. I shall remain at your mercy for as long as Zelda is around. If you have any thoughts you'd like to voice, feel free to comment. What do you think about the reusage of previous names?

The Time Alchemist

            The timing was off; one second later, she wouldn’t have been hit by the car, and one second earlier, he would have been hit in her stead. No, the circumstances were just right as to result in one of the many times life isn’t fair. It was a tragedy, losing her, although technically she was still around. Comatose, and unable to respond, Marie was kept under a watchful eye at the hospital. The rich owner of the car was unable to say anything to comfort Curtis, but he paid for her hospitalization. Curtis visited her everyday. Eventually, he couldn’t take the pain of watching her waste away in a hospital bed. He resolved to learn what he could to reverse her condition. Curtis had heard stories about alchemists who could do amazing and miraculous things, and he figured with that power, he could save Marie. Therefore, he spent time studying the arcane science required to perform alchemical transmutations.

            Over the course of a year of training with a local alchemist by performing odd jobs, and plenty of private study time, Curtis developed his own style of transmutation. He kept this particular version of Alchemical transmutation a secret, fearing his teacher’s anger. Curtis had a feeling that one day, the new alchemy he came up with would be important in his attempt to find a way to save Marie from the coma.

            A year later, Curtis had learned two valuable lessons. These lessons were that he should trust his instincts, and that for anything to happen there must be a price paid. In alchemy it was a concept known as equivalent exchange. A keystone of alchemy, equivalent exchange states that in order to make something, something of equal value must be given.

            It was mid-summer when Curtis had learned the basics of his alchemical research. During his time traveling, he had heard about a man who was a medical alchemist. This man had done incredible things. Being the foremost medical expert, Curtis figured that Dr. Phillip Madrix would know something about how to bring a person out of a coma. Not just any person, the most precious person in the world to Curtis was Marie. He spent a portion of the money he had saved to take a train to the Southwest Station.

            Curtis arrived in a town just south of the city of Weston, the capital of Antila and home of the famous Madrix laboratory. Carrying his satchel of basic supplies, Curtis went to the town bulletin board for a job he could do to earn money for lodging. Several jobs were posted, many of which were marked as taken. One job listing, however, stood out to Curtis and he took the paper from the board. The paper read: “Wanted: Cook, temporary position needed for the upcoming banquet celebrating the anniversary of Mayor Theodore’s wedding. Pay: 37 silfers and leftovers from the banquet.” Beneath the writing about the position were the location and the contact information of the employer. Curtis was pleased, for his alchemical studies had included cooking, and 37 silfers was a good wage and could pay for a nice room at an inn, plus some.

            On his way to apply for the position of cook, Curtis felt a twinge of instinct while passing by a general goods shop. He entered, and saw that there were numerous vials on the back wall, watches in display cases, and numerous other items. Nothing in the store was especially interesting. Two of the bottles on the back wall caught his eye, one with a cloudy liquid inside, and the other with a few dusty green herbs within. With the little money he had in his pouch, Curtis purchased these two things, leaving his coin purse empty. Exiting the shop, he headed once more toward the manor where he would be preparing the meal.

            Unsure of what use he would have for the liquid, he examined it closely while he walked. He was able to tell what its chemical composition was, for the most part. A young girl was running down the street, cradling a loaf of bread almost as big as she was. Since Curtis wasn’t paying much attention to where he was going, and the girl was in such a hurry that she was being careless, it was no surprise that the girl ran directly into him. The full force of a charging little girl slamming into him caused Curtis to drop the vial he had been holding. When it hit the ground, it shattered and the liquid seeped into the stone street. Somehow, the girl had held onto the bread tightly enough that she didn’t drop it. She was, however, flat on her back.

            “Excuse me, I wasn’t paying much attention. Are you ok?” Curtis asked the girl, as he offered her a hand up. The little girl seemed wary of Curtis, but she took his hand long enough to get back to standing. She promptly checked to see if the bread had gotten dirty, and when she saw it hadn’t, she began patting the dust off her dress.

            “Gee, mister, you should know better than knocking a poor little girl down as she’s bringing bread home to her mommy!” She scolded him. Curtis was caught by surprise. It came to him that she was probably mimicking her mother or something.

            “I’m sorry about that. As I said, I was… distracted. Are you going to be ok getting home?” He asked politely. The little girl looked up at him, puffed out her cheeks and then stuck her tongue out at him.

            “I don’t need an old geezer like you asking me something stupid like that. Of course I’m ok.” Then, suddenly a look of astonishment came across her face. “Oh no! I’m wasting time talking to some old guy while mommy’s waiting for the bread! Oh… I’m going to be in so much trouble!” She glared at Curtis one more time and said, “Watch where you’re going next time!” and then rushed off again into the crowd.

            What a strange little girl. I wonder if she’s always like that. Oh well, Curtis thought, I should probably get going. Darn, and I didn’t even get to see where that acid would be useful.

            When he had finally arrived at the manor, it was getting late. The sun was already beginning to set, and the kitchen doors were letting out a variety of tantalizing aromas. Curtis entered to find the kitchen was bustling with activity, there were several people chopping and peeling vegetables, a person was checking on some meat cooking in a stove, and a few people were stirring soups and sauteing sauces. The most memorable trait of the kitchen was the man slightly taller than the rest who kept barking out orders to the other cooks, and criticizing the taste of the food. It seemed quite plain that this large man, covered in flour and his apron stained, was the head chef of the kitchen. Taking a quick glance at the flier from the bulletin board, he walked to the imposing figure and made to talk with him about the position.

            “Excuse me, sir! Would you happen to be Fredrik Spencer?” Curtis yelled over the rest of the noise. The man turned to face Curtis, and looked genuinely displeased with the interruption of his criticism of the bisque one of the other cooks had just dished up.

            “Of course I am! Master Chef Fredrik Spencer, whose culinary cuisine could chance charm cadavers back ta life. Who’re you and what’re ya doing in my kitchen?” He barked at Curtis in the same tone he used with everyone else in the kitchen. In response to this, Curtis held up the flier from the bulletin board in town.

            “I come seeking employment for the feast coming tomorrow. I should like to mention that I happen to have some culinary prowess of mine own, even if it’s not enough to charm the deceased back to the world of the living.” Curtis replied.

            “Ya might be here for the job, but that doesn’t mean ya can just walk in saying that ya can cook and expect ta get it! If ya want ta get this job, I’ll have ta make sure ya can cook first! A bumbling idiot prepared this soup. I wouldn’t even dare ta call it a bisque, given that it’s runny, and has no flavor. If ya can fix this tasteless concoction, then ya can have the job. Is that fair?” Chef Spencer asked.

            “Of course” Curtis replied, “I won’t disappoint you.”

            “Ya have ta use the soup exactly as it is now. We can’t be wasteful, ya know. Now get on with it, I’ll have no slacker in my kitchen!” Spencer yelled.

            In a few minutes, Curtis had thickened the soup, and added precise amounts of each ingredient. Hmm, not quite delicious to revive the dead, Curtis thought jokingly to himself when he tasted it, it’s still missing something… but what? Curtis had no idea, so instinctively he reached for his chalk, drew a transmutation circle, and infused it with energy. Nothing seemed to happen, and then an idea came to him. I know, that herb should work perfectly! He reached into a pocket, and pulled out the vial with the dusty green herbs. He quickly chopped the herb, and put it in the soup. The master chef strode up to him, looking impatient.

            “I’ve been waiting for ya ta finish your soup. I’m tired of being surrounded by nothing but idiots who don’t know the difference between an onion and a cabbage! You’ve better have made something edible, or I’ll roast your goose!” Fredrik yelled at Curtis. With a practiced flourish, Curtis skillfully dished up a single steaming bowl of bisque. He handed this bowl to the chef, and waited for his reaction.

            Fredrik took a spoonful of soup, and ate. When he finished, Spencer placed the bowl on the counter next to the sink. “Son, that was one of the best bowls of bisque I’ve ever tasted, and I’m a master. Still, I’m not sure why, but there’s something odd about your cooking. I could swear on my honor as a master chef that there’s no way ya could have made a soup this good with the ingredients I offered ta ya. Tell me, boy, how did ya do it?” the master chef asked, tears welling up in his eyes.

            “Well, sir, I will admit that I added an ingredient that I brought with me. Rosemary is the missing piece. A person can make a good soup with just about anything lying around but a person can’t make a great soup without all the necessary ingredients. I thought that the missing ingredient was the Rosemary I bought on my way here.” Curtis replied.

            “Son, I gotta say, we could make a master chef outta you yet! Ya’ve got yourself a job! As for the payment, we’re going to serve this soup tonight, but you can take a portion of it with ya now. Here’s a few silfers for your trouble. If ya make it ta the kitchen tomorrow night, I’ll make sure ya get every silfer you’re promised and a full belly at that.”

            With that, the tough Master Chef Fredrik Spencer wiped a tear from his eye, and handed several coins to Curtis. There were enough silfers in what he received to pay for lodging for that night, so Curtis left the manor and found a place to stay.

            In the middle of the night, Curtis woke up. He had a keen sense that there was trouble nearby, and that he needed to take action. Curtis ran outside in his pajamas to find that a girl was being chased down the street by several large creatures. They looked humanoid, but they had the features of wolves, the eyes of a spider, and where they should have arms, there were instead sharp blades. As she ran closer to him, Curtis realized he recognized her as the girl who had run into him earlier. Curtis drew a transmutation circle on the street with the chalk he had with him. The girl still had a fair lead, and when she got close enough, Curtis yelled to the girl to get behind him. As the creatures drew closer, he infused some of his energy into the circle, which glowed faintly. Suddenly, the ground beneath the creatures collapsed, and they were buried in the tunnels that ran under the city streets.

            “Are you ok? I never caught your name, but I’m glad to see you’re safe.” Curtis spoke gently, addressing the girl who still seemed a bit shaken after being chased. When she had finally caught her breath, she looked at the hole in the street. She was shocked at what had just happened. She turned around suddenly, and stared at Curtis for a second.

            “Wait! You’re that old man from earlier! What happened?” After a few seconds, the girl realized that Curtis was waiting for her name. “Oh, I’m Angela, and yeah I’m fast there’s no way they would have caught me. So, are you going to tell me what happened, or what?”

            “Well, Angela, I’m an alchemist of sorts… and I caused the road to collapse, I guess. I’m not so sure you’d have been able to keep running from them for very long, though. You were already starting to look tired when I intervened.” Curtis responded. Curtis expected Angela’s reaction. Namely, she scoffed and seemed unimpressed.

            “You ‘guess’ you caused the road to collapse? Puh-leeze, if you were a real alchemist, you’d know what you did, and how you did it. Still, it’s odd that the road caved in at the same place where we met earlier. I guess it was just fate. Well, I’m going to get moving then.” Angela said turning around and walking away, headed north.

            “Wait a second! Care to tell me why you were out this late at night?” Curtis asked, feeling that something suspicious was happening.

            “Uh, no. I don’t feel like telling you. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. Besides, I don’t have any reason to tell an old geezer like you anything.” Angela replied curtly. Curtis sighed, knowing he probably wasn’t going to get any new information out of her.

            “Well, at least I can promise you that it wasn’t just a coincidence that our paths met, or that I managed to cave the road in to stop those creatures from chasing you.” After hearing this, Angela stopped for a second and turned around to face him.

            “Really? So you’re sticking with the story that you saved me? Sorry, but I find it a bit hard to believe that you did anything really helpful. Besides, even if I did believe you about that, I know you didn’t just decide to ‘save me’. You were probably doing something suspicious and then randomly ran into me.” Angela retorted.

            “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. I was asleep, and soundly, but I suddenly felt that something was wrong, and I came out here to investigate. That’s when I found you. Also, if you were a bit more observant, you’d see that I did cause the road to collapse. Proof of it is this transmutation circle.” Curtis pointed down at the circle, still visible in the moonlight. Angela examined it carefully and had a puzzled look on her face. Finally, she looked up at him.

            “Uh, mister… I don’t get it. You say that this is the transmutation circle you used to cause the road to fall but… I don’t see anything drawn on the circle used as a symbol for changing the properties of earth or stone. How did a simple circle like this cause such a huge collapse? This circle doesn’t look anything like the circles I’ve ever seen. Why are there gears drawn in the circle?”

            “Well, it doesn’t contain an earth glyph. I would have to take a lot of time to explain how it works, but I assure you that this circle is my circle and that hole over there is the result. Hey, wait a second. How do you know about this stuff? You’re only a kid! What do you know about alchemy or transmutation circles?”

            “I happen to know a lot about alchemy. Really I do! And don’t say that I’m just a kid; I’m a big girl you know! I’m able to do lots of grownup things! I mean it! Besides, who are you to talk about age, geezer?”

            “What? Hey! Stop calling me geezer! I’m only eighteen, and from where I stand, I think that makes me pretty young still. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me, but you’re just a little girl. You’re, what, six? I bet these ‘grownup things’ you do are like the running into strangers, and fetching bread right?”

            Angela was so offended by his statements that she stuck her tongue out at him. “See what you know. Stupid.” She got up and ran away again. Curtis got the feeling that she had gotten plenty of practice running away from people. Looking back at the hole for a second, he noted to himself that she’s probably gotten practice running from things too. Curtis went back inside the inn, and went back to sleep, although he still had no idea why the girl had any knowledge of alchemy.

            The next morning, Curtis went into town and used most of what was left of his money on supplies he felt would make for a better recipe than what most cooks would probably use in the banquet cooking. Aromatic herbs, a few exotic spices, and a variety of flavor-infused salts were among his purchases. Around midday, he relaxed with a lunch and a cup of tea while he looked over the information he had gathered for the past few months about how to cure Marie. Just like he had told Chef Spencer, a person could make a good soup with just about anything, but a great soup required the right ingredients. Alchemy was no different. In order for him to help Marie, he needed an essential ingredient that he just didn’t have. An ingredient that Dr. Phillip Madrix had, and for that very reason, Curtis had to meet with him.

            That evening, Curtis reported to the manor, and cooked a large portion of the banquet dinner, as Spencer trusted Curtis’ cooking over the other chefs’. When the banquet was over, Curtis was paid a full 40 silfers for his excellent cooking, as well as receiving a full dinner of leftovers.

            Curtis decided to leave for the capital right away, and so he left that evening and headed to Weston as the sun’s last rays vanished over the horizon. The distance from Weston was not far and before midnight, he had reached the city. He found an inn, and purchased a room for the night. The rest of the night, he slept soundly.

            The next morning, Curtis arrived at the Madrix laboratory, but the security at the gate was being difficult. Apparently, being as important as he was, Dr. Madrix was in danger of assassination by opposing countries. It was true, if Dr. Madrix were killed, the country would suffer greatly. No matter how Curtis pleaded, the security guard would not let him in. He drew a transmutation circle in the dirt with his shoe, and sent energy into it, but nothing happened. He waited for a while, but he still couldn’t convince the guard to let him in. As he turned to leave, a girl came running up.

            “Ah! Angela! What are you doing here? Are you visiting your father? He’s inside doing some research, but I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.” The guard addressed the girl. When Angela saw Curtis, she chose to speak to him before answering the guard.

            “Oh, hey, it’s you! What are you doing here? Do you have some business with daddy, I mean Dr. Madrix? I could get you inside, you know: after everything you ‘did’ last night.” Angela whispered to him.

            “Yeah, I do need to see him. I have to find out something very important from him. He may be my only chance at saving someone I care about greatly. Please, just help me get to him.” Curtis begged, and Angela smiled. She walked boldly to the guard standing in front of the door, and held out a badge.

            “Yeah, I’m here to see my dad. Let me in, oh and this guy here is with me. Let him in too. He kinda saved my life last night, and I wanted to introduce him to daddy.” Angela said boldly to the guard. He let both Angela and Curtis pass. Curtis wondered why she had been so willing to help him get inside. Then he figured it out. She thinks it’s fun to boss adults around, and she likes that I begged her to get inside. Truly, she is a kid, but at least she’s a kid with connections.

            Once they were inside, Angela led Curtis to the front offices, so they could find out where Dr. Madrix was located. Apparently, he was in the library, and so that’s where they headed. When they arrived, Angela gave her father a hug, and for a moment, they talked. Eventually, Dr. Madrix noticed that Curtis had just been watching without saying anything. He addressed Curtis.

            “Is there something I can do to help you, young man?” Madrix asked. Curtis briefly explained his situation, and Madrix looked gravely serious. Finally, he agreed to help, although it seemed that he was reluctant to do so. “I’m headed to the basement to finish an experiment that I’ve been working on for a while. Meet me there in an hour, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

            An hour later, Curtis made his way down to the basement, but when he arrived, the situation that he stood before was one that left him horrified. There was a hole in one of the walls, and through it, a person could see straight into the tunnels that ran under the area and connected to the town just south of the city. In a corner, surrounded by rubble and blood oozing out from bites and slices all over his body, Dr. Madrix was dead. On top of his corpse was the body of a creature, like the one he had encountered the previous night. Impaling the creature was a metal pipe that had been broken from the wall. There was water spilling out onto the floor from this pipe, and leaving through the tunnel, taking the blood of the doctor and the creature alike with it.

            I’ve lost everything. Marie, and any hope I had of saving her. I can’t imagine her dying in a hospital bed, I just can’t! This is just too much. I have to find a way to save her. There must be a way! Curtis thought. Finally, it dawned on him that the late Dr. Madrix’s library would probably have something he could use to find a cure for Marie. Hurriedly, Curtis rushed to the library.

            Once he was inside, he gathered as many books as he could find, and medical journals as well, which concerned the secret element he needed to cure Marie. A thing known as the violet crystal was supposedly capable of being a reagent in alchemy to allow a person to transmute the incorporeal. In the most basic of concepts, with it he could transmute the mind and body together, instead of just being able to transmute the body. With the violet crystal, Curtis would be able to pull her out of her coma, and help get her back.

            Curtis poured over volumes of text, and at last he found what he was looking for, in a book that was tucked away in a dark corner. Inside, there was a recipe for the violet crystal. According to the book, there was only ever one instance in which it had ever been crafted. It was clear why it had only been made once. According to the documents, there was a price for this great power. In order to craft the violet crystal, 120 people had to be transmuted in the process. Of course, doing this would kill them all. When this happened the one time before, it led to such outrage that such things were banned from ever being researched again for practical use. The last page held two important things for Curtis. The first disheartening piece of information was that the only known violet crystal had apparently been destroyed. There was apparently a limit to how many times it could be used, and the larger the scale of transmutation, the faster it disintegrated. The second piece of information, however, filled Curtis with hope. It was the blueprint of the alchemic transmutation circle required to create a violet crystal.

            To Curtis, Marie mattered more than the whole world. What more would 120 people be to him? Nothing, and so it was that Curtis created the transmutation circle around the capital of Weston. That day would ever be remembered as a tragedy; for Curtis succeeded in making the crystal and many lives were lost. In a split second, the people all changed into pure energy by the transmutation, coalescing in the center of town as the violet crystal. It would be considered a tragedy, but it did not end there. Curtis traveled in secret, and soon arrived back at his home village, where Marie awaited.

            When Curtis arrived, Marie was still in a coma. She wasn’t able to respond, and Curtis did the seemingly impossible. Using the power of the violet crystal, he pulled her out of the coma, giving her back what she had lost that fateful day. However, Curtis did not expect her reaction in the days to come.

            Less than a week after Marie had been revived from the deep coma she had been in, she heard the news. There was trouble in the capital, namely that there was no capital anymore. Everyone within it was gone. The buildings still stood, but nobody remained. It was as if everyone had been spirited away magically, for everything inside looked as if life had stopped in the middle of daily activities, and all that remained were the clothes and remnants of those who had been living it. There was a rumor that someone had done something terrible, and that had caused the disaster. According to the rumors, there was a huge circle drawn around the capital. Some people suggested that a terrible person had used alchemy to kill all of the inhabitants. Marie confronted Curtis about this, and found out everything he had done.

            “Oh, Curtis, why? Was I so important to you? You sacrificed an entire city! All those poor lives gone! And for me? I can’t live with myself, knowing that I’m the reason all those people were killed!” She yelled at him, as she ran away crying. The next day, Curtis found her dead in their old secret hiding place. The world didn’t exist for Curtis anymore, for what kind of world was it if Marie was no longer a part? If she hated him, he could still live with himself, as long as she were alive. Now, not even that was possible. Then an idea came to him.

            There was enough of the violet crystal left for one final transmutation of huge proportions. So, he drew the most complex transmutation circle he had ever made. His intent was simple, and written along the edges. “May Marie never have fallen into a coma at all.” Although this would seem impossible, Curtis had been using alchemy in this way from the start. Time alchemy, he called it, for it transmuted the path between the past and the future. It only worked on him, though. In the end, he could only change short bursts of his own actions in the past. With the violet crystal, however, he could reach back to before any of this had happened. And he did, Curtis transmuted his last time.

            The timing was perfect. Marie was saved, one second later, and the car would have hit her. Curtis was not so fortunate. From the angle of the impact, the doctors were able to tell that he had died instantly. Marie mourned, and visited his grave everyday for a while, but eventually she moved on.

            A year after Curtis’ death, there was a huge uproar about a new cook from a small town just south of the capital. The kid had apparently gotten his start at a banquet in celebration of the anniversary of the mayor’s wedding. He went on to become a master chef, and whenever someone asked him how it all began he said, “It all started when I came across this flyer for employment on the town bulletin board…”

            Around that time, a man became a local hero by saving a girl named Angela from some ferocious and mysterious creatures. Angela’s father, Dr. Madrix discovered a cure for the pox the following day. Marie never knew how much the world had changed since Curtis had died, from what it would have been… if the timing were off.

The malevolent sacrificial savior

"I'm sorry to have to tell you, but you have cancer. It seems to be in its early stages right now, so conventional therapy might work. Of course, you have plenty of options, and we want to make sure you understand what all your options are." Dr. Reynolds told Betty Stewart. This news was an earthquake shaking the entire foundation of her life. For almost thirty years, Betty had been careful with her health. She excercised regularly, she ate healthily, she made sure to sleep well every night, she had done everything she could. Her mother had impressed upon her when she was young how important her health was, and now this traumatic announcement had turned her world upside down.

"Ok, well what are the options, then?" Betty asked, as she thought about how her life and her family. She wanted to live long enough to be there for her children's graduations, marriages, grandkids if possible... that's why she had taken such good care of herself. If this thing won, not only would she miss out on that, she might not even be there for them now.

"Well, as I said, we've caught it early enough that we might be able to get rid of it with conventional methods. We could try removing it with surgery, and follow it up with chemotherapy to get what we might have missed. We could also try the direct-area radiation, with which we would aim specifically at the cancer. Of course, we also have several limited-success options too. There is biofeedback therapy, where we basically give you a specially formulated "slurry" which will help your body fight it off itself. As I said that one isn't as reliable, but when it works it's significantly less invasive." Dr. Reynolds informed her.

"I see, are those the only options?" Betty inquired, hoping for something miraculous. All of the methods she'd just heard him mention she knew weren't guaranteed successes. At any point, she could leave remission and be right back where she started, and with several of the options she had just been given, she could be incapacitated for a while just from the therapy. She knew she couldn't just let down her kids, she just didn't have it in her.

"Well, there is another option. It's a bit less conventional, and there is both an upside and a downside. Pros and cons, if you will, to using the other option we have. If you'd like I can explain it to you." Reynolds waited for her response. The hospital's policy was that he could offer her the information, but only if she asked about it.

"Ok, well, what is this other option, and is it reliable?" Thoughts raced through her head, one-million and one possible scenarios passing her by as she anxiously waited to hear good news.

"There is a new medication on the market. It can only legally be obtained and administered at hospitals, mind you, but like I said it's... an option. This medication, recently developed, has received conflicting opinions. On a less scientific note, some have called it the miracle medication of our age (like penecillin was not too long ago), others have called it a curse. Because of the implications, we're required to tell you about both the pros and the cons of taking this medication before allowing you to make a decision. The pros to this medication are that it will get rid of the cancer with a 100% success rate, and there will not be remission at all because the cancer will never come back. Numerous studies have proven that taking this medication will actually cause your body to create antibodies to the specific cancer you have, meaning it won't return." Reynolds took out a folded cloth from a pocket in his overcoat, and wiped his brow, preparing to deliver the cons.

"Well, that's excellent, it certainly is the miracle drug! 100% success, no chance of recurrence, and thus no need for remission checkups?" Betty was pleased, but then she thought about how good the offer seemed to be. Her mother had always told her that anything that is too good to be true, probably isn't. Why would the hospital require that the full disclosure be given before a decision if it were as great as it sounded? That was the thought that kept her grounded, instead of jumping out of her seat with joy.

"Yes, yes at first it does sound like a miracle. However, there are the cons to consider... well, actually just the one big con. Because of the continued development of medication with the potential for overdosing, a scientist in Germany came up with a device that would take a sample of the medication and tell how much of the medication would cause an overdose, and the average lifespan lost by taking the medication. When this miraculous sounding drug was announced, it went through the same analysis as all the other drugs. Their findings were somewhat inconclusive, until it went through the MOALD (Medication Overdoes and Lifespan Diagnosis) machine. When they put it into the device, it came back with an unexpected result. According to the machine, if you take this medicine, your effective remaining lifespan is cut in half. Naturally, this only applies to if you die due to natural causes and not through accidents or the like. This is why we have to, by law, tell you about the full implications of choosing this treatment before you decide." Reynolds looked visibly disturbed, and also anxious.

"Wait, so you're telling me that my options are to choose between 'it might not work' and 'it will work, but you will die twice as soon'? Those are my options? What type of joke is this?" Betty exclaimed, which was typical for patients receiving this news. Dr. Reynolds had had this talk many times before.

"Yes, the options are conventional treatments, which might or might not work, and will take time, or a near-instantaneous completely non-invasive medicine which will reduce your effective remaining natural lifespan by half. Ultimately, you get to choose what we do here. It's your body, and it's your life. I'll give you some time to think about all of this." Dr. Reynolds said quietly before he left the room. Now, Betty was alone in the room, and the question was her only company.

So there it was, the big decision, all right in front of her. An entire life spent trying to stay healthy, so she could grow old with her husband, watch her kids grow up and do marvelous things, see her grandchildren, and now her life stood on a precipice of uncertainty. If she took the medication, she would certainly be healthy by almost every definition of the word. If she didn't, she could still be healthy, but it wasn't certain. She wasn't prepared to make this decision. It was all too much for her.

"AHH! This is exactly why I wanted Martin to come with me today" Betty said with strain in her voice, "If he didn't insist on going to that stupid business meeting, I wouldn't be going through this alone."

Betty started to tear up a little. The pressure was palpable, the tension overbearing, stress to extremes. She knew she couldn't blame her husband. It wasn't that he wanted to go, it was that he had to if he wanted to keep his job. She still couldn't help but feel a bit bitter because she was by herself when she needed someone to talk to. For a while, she just sat in place, feeling sorry for herself. Sure, she knew this wouldn't help the situation but it made her feel a bit better. Then she started thinking about the options again. Why did they even tell her about this? What point is there in making a huge decision like this? But she knew that the doctor had only told her because she asked. She had seen it on his face, this wasn't much easier for him.

Do I really want to throw away years of my life just because of this? Or worse, do I want to spend years of my life dealing with this because I wasn't willing to sacrifice for it? How can I make a decision with such limited information?

Dr. Reynolds came back into the room, with a box of tissues. "I brought these in case you might need them. And I needed to ask if you had any questions I could answer."

"Yeah, these years that I would lose from this medication... they're from the end of my natural life, right?" Betty asked. Dr. Reynolds stoically responded that any time that would disappear would have to be considered 'from the end' considering it ended early. "So, how would I die when I reached that age? Would it be different somehow?"

"Well, that's an interesting question. The MOALD machine doesn't tell people how they'll die. It's only meant to tell people what the deadliness of a drug is, it doesn't test people. That said, you would probably die in the same manner in old age as you would otherwise die. Maybe your heart just stops while you're asleep... maybe you'll have a series of severe strokes, seizures, or heart attacks. We don't know, but I can be fairly confident saying that it would probably happen the same way it would happen if you had lived to your full age without ever having this cancer." He responded, though Betty could tell by the look on his face that he didn't really know, and was guessing but interested.

"Would I age twice as fast or something?" Betty inquired, expecting the answer to be along the lines of a 'yes'. Interestingly, Dr. Reynolds told her that externally, she would appear to age at exactly the same rate. "And I would never get cancer again?"

Dr. Reynolds shifted his position, and Betty could tell that he was feeling tense again. That meant bad news. The question was, what was the bad news he was going to say next.

"Well, actually, not quite. You would never get THIS cancer again. You wouldn't have to worry about getting breast cancer ever again, but if you were to get some other kind... say melanoma, or something, you would have that cancer. This medication would not prevent you from contracting a new type of cancer."

"Well, would the medication work more than once?"

"Yes, it would, but your lifespan would also be reduced more than once. Instead of having 50% of your remaining natural lifespan from now, you would have 50% of the lifespan you had remaining when you took it again. That's how it works. Is there anything else you need to ask?" Dr. Reynolds inquired.

"No, I think I'm good. I've made my decision." Betty said, with an unwavering certainty in her voice. All this time, she had thought about what she would be missing out on if she were to take the drug, but she had realized what counted the most. Life, as she suddenly saw it through an unclouded paradigm, was more than just how long you lived. It was about what you did with the time you had. If she were to waste her life in the hospital, she could still miss out on her kids' lives. It could be worth it to be sure she would get to see her kids grow up without having to let them see her at her weakest. It ultimately didn't matter what she chose, but she knew what she would rather have. But before she could decide, she had one more question, "Do I have your assurances that the medical procedures, whatever I choose, are going to be discreet?"

"Of course, nothing about your condition or treatment will ever be sold or told to anyone without your express consent unless we are required to give that information by law." Dr. Reynolds replied.

"Ok, then here's my decision..." And with that Betty lived her life to the fullest, she kept the fact that she had cancer a secret, and what time she had with her family. As she closed her eyes for the final time at the end of her life, she would look back on the life she had lived and would not regret her decision.

Music that moves me

There is something about music. I'm sure many people can identify with me on this, that something about music moves the emotions. I hear certain songs that make me feel a bit sad, other songs that cause me to feel like I want to jump for joy.

Music can also be a mirror to emotion:

When I'm angry I listen to One Winged Angel
When I'm sad I listen to Unbeautiful
When I'm excited I listen to Inner Universe

All of these things are true, but I think there is something special to be said about the music that really moves me: music from games.

I'm going to keep this a bit limited in scope, but for reference lots of games I've played have had music that made me feel one way or another for the record.

There is something special to me, however, about the music in the Zelda games I've played. Every Zelda game I have played through (thus excluding Zelda 1 & 2, which were a bit outside my area of interests, as well as being so outdated I could hardly relate) has had music which has occurred in such a fantastic way that even listening to a small portion of a song from one of these games triggers a host of emotions and memories.

Ilia's theme, for example, brings back memories of Ordon spring, and Kakariko Village.

The theme from the Dark World brings back memories of the Magic Mirror, the epic battle with Gannon, and the tragic story of the boy with the flute.

The Song of Healing from Majora's Mask brings to mind all the masks I collected to save Termina, and all the jokes I came up with as a result of the song's unique powers.

Things like FreddeGredde's "Windwaker Unplugged" brings back an entire game and then some to my mind.

The unifying theme about this is that all of these songs bring to mind memories, or have a feeling to them that sound to me like the emotions I feel. When it comes to listening to Zelda songs, just listening to them brings me so close to the wonderful memories of those games that I often find myself being drawn back to playing them all over again just because I chose to listen to the songs.

Zelda may not be the only place I find music that suits me, but it's one of the strongest influences. Out of all the songs I listen to, Zelda songs almost always have the top tier of feeling attached to them. I think this is because unlike regular music where you just listen to it, in Zelda songs, you hear it while you do something. Sometimes that's great (like when I feel good about restoring the Master Sword while listening to Medli's theme or Makar's theme), and sometimes it's terrible (like how frustrated I feel knowing that I was 'this' close to being at the boss fight of the forest temple and then the stupid poe sisters make me do the whole dungeon). FYI, my least favorite Zelda song from LTTP onward was undoubtedly the OoT Forest Temple theme, which still incites such negativity in me that I often play through the entire dungeon constantly playing the Song of Storms so I can hear rain rather than listen to the music.

It was that very thought though, that doing something while listening to music makes it more impactful, which led me to feel that when I saw a video about what if "Zelda meets today's music" I was inspired enough to make my own version (although it could be touched up a bit) of the first song she makes (I love the way you lie x Gerudo Valley). I call it Gerudo Lies. My point being, I think that songs we play and games we play can change our perceptions. So, I think there is still untapped potential in music to help us better understand our emotions, and that potential is when we hear the music and what we're doing when we hear it.

Have something to say about this? Feel free to comment.

April folly

Jessica ran downstairs, she was so excited she could hardly contain herself. She opened the door swiftly, and saw her dad standing in the doorway. She squealed in excitement, and hugged him tight. After a moment or two, she let go of him, and he picked up the presents he had put down.

"Daddy! Oh, I'm so excited! It's almost time, it's almost time! I can't wait! Come on, tell me what I got! Please!" Jessica exclaimed, but her father merely gave her a knowing glance, and warned her that if he told her what presents she was getting for her 18th birthday it would ruin the surprise.

A knock on the door was quickly followed by more squealing in excitement, an indication that Jessica's friends had arrived for the party. Christine was almost as hyper as Jessica when she ran in with Jessica's cake. Mark wasn't as loud or hyper as the girls, but he still stood with a smile on his face.

When the clock struck noon, Jessica and her friends all gathered around the dining room table. As her father started lighting the candles on her birthday cake, the lock on the front door clicked open, and someone entered the house. As Jessica looked up, she saw her mother had come back from her business trip two days early!

"Mom! What are you doing back so early!?" Jessica asked with excitement. Her mother looked at her with a smile on her face.

"I was able to clench the deal in record time! They were so excited about the initial plan that they signed the contract after only the second day of presentations! I got a bonus for making such a great sales pitch and..." Jessica's mother pulled a present out of her purse, "I used it to get something special for my special little girl!"

Jessica blushed, "Mom, you're embarassing me in front of my friends!"

"You know Jess, you're a pretty lucky person you know." Christine said, giggling.

"Oh come on now, I'm not really all that lucky." Jessica replied. Christine rolled her eyes. Jessica tried not to notice, but Mark seemed to nod along with Christine.

"Go on, then. If you really think that it has nothing to do with luck, go ahead. Make a wish on your birthday cake's candles. Wish for something totally outrageous, and see if it doesn't come true." Mark said with a wink at Christine. Jessica's parents gathered around her with her friends, and they sang a birthday song to her. When they finished, Jessica made a wish and blew the candles out.

"Well, see? My wish didn't come true, guess that shows that I'm not really..." Jessica said as the doorbell rang. Everybody was startled, almost nobody rang the doorbell. Most of the people that visited Jessica and her family just knocked or came on in, so naturally they were curious who it could be. When Jessica opened the door, she gasped.

"Uh, hey, Jessi. So I heard that it's, like, your birthday or somethin, right?" Daniel said, holding a small box out in front of him, his face now a gradient of different reds. Christine called from the dining room, asking who it was. Daniel stood on the doorstep, awkwardly until Jessica invited him inside.

"It was kinda, umm..." Jessica said as Daniel entered the dining room, "Daniel, actually." Christine sat for a moment, thinking about what she was seeing, and then her face lit up.

"OMG! Jess, don't tell me. What did you wish for when you blew out your candles?" Christine asked. Jessica blushed, and both Christine and Mark shared a knowing glance. It was obvious what she had wished for. Jessica had been crushing on Daniel since her freshman year in high school. Suddenly, Jessica figured out what they were thinking.

"Oh, wait! No. It's not like that! This doesn't mean anything, I mean, it doesn't mean I'm lucky or anything silly like that!" Jessica sputtered. Daniel looked at Jessica quizzically. "I mean, not that I mean I feel unlucky that you're here, uh... I mean not that I was expecting you to come or anything it's uh..."

"Hey, does anyone want cake?" Jessica's mother asked. Soon, everyone was eating Jessica's icecream cake. Shortly after eating the cake, Jessica opened her presents. They were all very nice, but two of them were especially wonderful. The smallest gift she received from her father was a key chain with car keys on them, and when Jessica went to the garage, she found a new car waiting for her. The gift she received from Daniel was almost as good: a note which read Jessica, will you go to the prom with me? and clipped to it was a ticket to the prom. Naturally, this only further convinced Jessica's friends that she was 'lucky', which she continued to deny fervently.

Soon, the birthday party came to a conclusion, Jessica still high on the knowledge that she would be attending prom with the hottest guy in school, who had admitted that he had a crush on her since freshman year too. With the party over, Jessica bid farewell to Daniel, and went for a ride in her new car to the mall with Christine and Mark.

"See, I told you! You are so lucky. Totally lucky. I mean seriously, it's uncanny. I mean what are the odds that the guy you've had a crush on since the start of high school would also have a crush on you since then, and that he would show up at your house on your birthday to ask you to the prom? It's just crazy lucky. And I bet what you wished for when you blew out the candles on your cake was him stopping by, or asking you out, right?" Christine said with enthusiasm.

"Oh my gosh, seriously, Christine! You know it's not that crazy. I mean, yeah, I was kinda hoping that he would stop by, but I mean, he said he had a crush on me, it only makes sense he would ask me out. Honestly, that's not luck at all!" Jessica retorted.

"Pull over at the gas station." Mark asked.

"Why do you need to use the restroom or something?"

"Just do it. You'll see why." He replied. After arriving at the gas station parking lot, Mark took Jessica inside. "Ok, now I want you to pick out any scratch-off card. Go on, whichever scratch-off card you'd like."

"Oh, come on now, Mark, you know about these. Everyone knows they're just a waste of money, what are you trying to prove?" She asked.

"Ok, say I'm right, no big deal, say you're right, then you prove me wrong. It's win-win. I'll even pay for it, being that it's your birthday and all." He offered. Jessica give him a strange look, then glanced at the scratch-off cards. She picked the "Bonus Buck Bank" scratch-off, and Mark paid the $5 for the card. He handed her a quarter. "Ok, now go ahead and scratch it."

"Alright, fine, but I really don't know what you're hoping to prove." She scratched the card, and to her surprise, she won. "Oh, well, it seems I won."

"How much did you win, hmm?" Mark asked, almost as if he didn't believe it himself. "Cause it says that the top prize is $500 on the card." Jessica scratched the prize box to see what she won.

"Oh, it looks like it's $450. See, I'm not really lucky. If I were wouldn't I have gotten the top prize?" She said defensively.

"Ok, fine, choose one more." Mark said. Jessica protested, but eventually she chose "Fast Cash Frenzy", and when she scratched it, she won twice what Mark had paid. It was redeemable on the spot too, which means that Mark got his money back, and Jessica still had $450 she didn't have before.

"Ok, ok, but scratch-off cards don't prove anything. Just because I won a few dollars at scratch-offs doesn't mean I'm lucky." Jessica disputed.

"Ok, Jess, I love you and everything, but honey let's be serious. Almost nobody wins anything, otherwise the lottery gambling system doesn't make money and people wouldn't do it. You just won something, not once but twice, and it was enough that we came away with not just a few dollars but almost half a grand. Seriously, you can't just look at that and say it's got nothing to do with luck!" Christine objected.

This went on for a few days, but no matter what anyone said, Jessica wouldn't believe them. According to her, she had regular luck and everything that seemed lucky was just a coincidence or something that could easily be explained. Little did Jessica know that soon she would not only change her mind, but she would be wishing she had realized what she had.

A week after her birthday, Jessica was driving from Christine's house, and stopped at a restaurant on the way home. When she entered, she found that a table had just opened up. After ordering, the waitress revealed that they were having a special, and the thirteenth person to order the dish she had ordered would get it free. In a pleasant surprise, Jessica had made the thirteenth order, and her meal was free.

While she was waiting for her food to arrive, Jessica checked her phone. She had a text message from Mark. It read: Hey, I know you don't believe in luck or especially in your own good luck, but keep an eye out. After all, today is April 1st. You know, April fools' day. Don't let anyone pull the wool over your eyes. - Mark

As she put her phone away, an old lady came up to her table, and sat down across from her. Jessica was somewhat offended. Nobody had ever done something like this before, and she wanted to know what was going on.

"Excuse me, this is my table. Why are you sitting here?" Jessica asked incredulously.

"My girl," the old woman responded, "this table has the best view, and nice sunlight. Let an old lady enjoy the sunlight for a bit and rest up." Jessica, however, would have no such thing. The old woman smelled like burning leaves and oil. She had a grotesque face, and wore shabby clothing that would insult the word 'rags'.

"No! I won't have you interrupt my meal and make it so unpleasant! Get away, I would like to eat my meal in peace and without having to see or smell you." Jessica said.

"Ah, I see. Your true colors, they show themselves to me like the full moon shows itself on a starless night, or how the sun shows itself on cloudless day. Hear this, girl, for the hatred in your heart and for your selfishness, may a curse be upon you. May all your fortunes turn to ash, all your fame become sullied, until such time as you learn your lesson, may you not sleep without nightmares and may your luck be only bad." The old lady said.

"If you're going to say stuff like that, I certainly don't want anything to do with you, you creepy old lady!" Jessica yelled, and called for her waitress. The old lady was escorted off the premesis by several young men, and Jessica was able to eat her meal in silence, the words of the old lady seeming to echo in her head.

When it was time to pay, Jessica started to leave, knowing that her food was free. However, as she opened the front door, the manager stopped her. "Excuse me, ma'am, but you need to pay for your food." Jessica was confused, and she mentioned that her food was free. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but however much I would love to give food away to a pretty lady such as you, I'm afraid we would soon be out of business if we just gave food away. Please pay." Jessica argued that she was told that it was a special promotion. "Oh, I bet it was all just an April fools' joke. We don't have any promotions going on today. All of our wait staff have been pulling pranks among each other today. It's all in good fun, but we can't serve you food and not get paid."

Jessica, although highly displeased by the sudden change in circumstances, paid her bill. It came out to $23.90, which was significantly more than she had expected. When she asked why it was so expensive, the manager couldn't explain. When Jessica mentioned how much the menu said the dish should be, the manager apologized, claiming that she must have accidentally received one of their old menus, which they had only replaced recently. Perturbed, Jessica left and decided that she would not return to that restaurant again.

As Jessica pulled out of the parking lot, a driver who hadn't been paying enough attention to the road crashed into her car. In a fit of frustration, she got out of her car, and tried to talk to the driver about exchanging insurance information. The driver, however, didn't speak any english. The driver spoke only in russian, and after an hour of trying to get the point across, Jessica found out that apparently the driver didn't have any insurance. Jessica got her car towed, and called her parents.

Nobody picked up the phone. Both when calling her mother and her father, the phones cycled to voicemail. This was bothersome, but fortunately for her, she had her credit card. The card was only to be used for emergencies. When she tried to pay for the repairs to her car, the card was declined. With no other way to pay for her car repairs, she left her car at the shop, and walked down the street to the convenience store. Hoping that Mark was correct about her having good luck, she used a $5 bill to buy a lottery scratch-off ticket. When she scratched, she discovered that for the first time she could ever remember, she didn't win. She had lost $5. All of this was just the beginning. Jessica called Christine, needing a ride home.

"Alright, Jess, I'll be there." Christine said over the phone as she considered the situation. "You're not trying to trick me cause it's April fools' day, are you?"

"Christine! I'm your best friend, you've known me for years, have I ever thought that the whole April fools' thing was funny, have I ever thought it was anything except childish and stupid?"

"Well, I guess not. Ok, I'm on my way now."

Jessica waited at the body shop, and about five minutes later, Christine pulled up. Jessica related the events that had just transpired, and her frustration about them, leaving out the part about the creepy old woman. Christine was confused, mainly because in all the time she had known Jessica, she had never heard of her having anything bad happen to her, and now suddenly everything seemed to be going wrong. Because they were close friends, Christine took Jessica home.

As Jessica was riding home with Christine, she started to feel strange. Before she could warn Christine, or take any action herself, she threw up. Jessica's new jeans were ruined, and Christine's car was a mess.

"Ok, seriously? Did that just happen? Did you just do what I think, and smell, you just did? Cause that's not cool." Christine said angrily. Jessica started to apologize, and in the middle of trying to explain, she threw up again, ruining Christine's skirt and blouse. "Ok, that's it. I can't stand this, you're going to walk home, and I'm going to try to get this stain out and clean my car before this stuff sticks."

Jessica had to walk to the last block and a half home covered in her own lunch, embarassed. When she got to her house, she found out the door was locked. She reached for her keys, but remembered that she left her house keys in the glovebox of her car, which was being held in the shop until she could pay for the repairs. She rang the doorbell, and nobody answered. A car pulled up in front of her house. When Jessica saw who was in it, she dove into the bushes. Daniel stepped out of the car, and walked up to the front door. He rang the doorbell, but when nobody answered he left something on the doorstep and left.

Once she was sure Daniel was gone, Jessica looked at the envelope Daniel had left. Inside, it was a letter, or to be more exact it was several letters. Each of them were roughly a page long, and held detailed accounts of Daniel's life since freshman year. These were entries from his journal, professing his love for her, but also keeping account of all the times she accidentally treated him poorly. The more she read, the more she realized that she had actually caused him to be humiliated several times. Although she was fairly sure he wanted to share these with her to show how much he trusted and loved her, she ended up only feeling worse about herself and her actions.

Jessica's dad showed up a few minutes into her reading, and let her into the house. She explained what happened. He checked his phone, and realized it had run out of battery power. He apologized, and mentioned that her mother had been called into work early because of a complication with the account she had landed the previous week. She was going to be in meetings all day long, and her phone was off.

Jessica put her soiled clothes into the wash, and took a shower. As she was showering, she dropped the soap, and slipped. She fell down, and twisted her ankle. After she finished her shower, she dried off, and limped to her bed. Tired, she tried to get some sleep. However hard she tried, she couldn't get more than ten minutes of sleep at a time, though. Every time she fell asleep, she soon woke up from nightmares.

No matter what she was doing, Jessica faced one hardship after another. For the next several days she wasn't able to sleep well, at school she couldn't concentrate and her grades were slipping. She got put into in-school suspension for accidentally yelling at a teacher, and for some reason she was getting picked on more than ever before. Prom was coming up soon, and the thought of what she would do was starting to weigh heavily on her mind.

If things were to keep up the way they had been going, Jessica thought, then she would probably miss prom altogether. No, worse, something might happen to Daniel. It dawned upon Jessica that everything had started to go badly ever since the old lady had 'cursed' her on April fools' day. She tried to remember what the old lady had said. Something about nighmares, bad reputations, and bad things happening right? What had she said about why it was happening? She couldn't remember.

Jessica talked to Mark about it, explaining that she thought all of the bad stuff that had happened to her might be related to it. Mark thought about it. "Well, first of all let me say that I'm surprised that you suddenly believe in luck, what with how much you tried to deny that it exists. Also, the fact you're believing in this 'curse' you've been brooding about. Now, usually if a curse is cast one someone, there's a completion condition. Something that has to happen for the curse to end. Sometimes the person has to die, sometimes they have to do something, do you remember if she told you how to end the curse?"

Jessica thought about the old woman, but doing so was difficult because it had been such a short and unpleasant conversation several days past. Jessica tried to remember, and after a few minutes she quietly said "I think she mentioned something about learning something."

"Ok, that's a start, what did she say you needed to learn in order for the curse to be broken?" Mark asked.

"Hmm, I think she had said something about the stuff being done because of something. Umm, I think she called me hateful. I'm not a hateful person, though, really. Right, Mark?" She pleaded.

"Well, I don't know. I don't think so, but then again we're friends. You do treat me differently than other people. Was that all? Were you just being told you were being hateful, cause that is bad, but I don't think that would warrant a curse as bad as the one you say you're experiencing."

"Hmm, did she say anything else... umm, I guess she said something about being selfish maybe? I know for certain she said my luck would be bad."

"If she said your luck would be bad, then that's a pretty bad curse for you. I mean, you have so much luck it's uncanny. It's just normally all good luck, but if she's somehow reversed the polarity of your luck so that it's all bad, you're doomed."

"Well thanks for the vote of confidence, Mark. You're being so helpful, I just can't believe how much you're making me feel better about all this stuff."

"No, no, I mean you're doomed if you don't break this curse. I'm sure you'll be able to learn... whatever it is. I'd guess that if she said you were hateful and selfish... I would think perhaps what she says you need to learn would be something about not being selfish."

"But Mark, you know I'm not a selfish person! It's just not fair that this is happening to me! What am I going to do? I can't miss prom! I can't have something bad happen to Daniel, what do I do?"

"See, but that's probably the type of attitude that she was talking about. Your reasoning in why the curse needs to be broken is a selfish sounding one."

"No, I don't want anything bad to happen to Daniel, that's not selfish!"

"Isn't it, though? I mean, you like Daniel... so if anything bad happened to him, you'd feel bad and so not wanting anything to happen to him could be construed as not wanting to feel bad, or even as not wanting to feel responsible if something does happen."

Jessica got so angry at Mark for suggesting these things that she decided to leave, and she started ignoring him. Prom day was coming up, and she still didn't know what she could do to break the curse. Every night that this continued, she wished that she hadn't taken her good fortunes for granted.

On the Friday before prom, she was helping her father shop for groceries when she spotted an old woman who was having trouble. At first, Jessica paid no attention to her. Jessica got eggs for her father, but then sneezed and the eggs fell to the floor and broke. At the same time, the old lady stretched and stretched but couldn't reach a box of cake mix on the nearby isle. Jessica walked down an isle with bottles of olive oil with her father, and accidentally knocked one of them over, and it shattered, oil going everywhere. The old lady dropped her box of cereal, and was having trouble bending over to pick it up because of her back. As Jessica and her father left the store and walked to their car, Jessica saw that the old lady had been carrying her bags and one of them had slipped and fruit and cans of beans had fallen all over the driveway.

Unable to maintain her aloof nature, Jessica ran over to the old woman, and picked up the fruit and cans and helped her put them back into her bag. "Gee, ma'am, I noticed you were having a bit of trouble today. I know what it's like to have some bad days. It seems all I've been having lately are bad days, but that doesn't mean I can't help make your day better, right?"

When Jessica looked up, though, she didn't see an old woman at all. Instead she saw a young woman, who smelled like incense and scented oils. Jessica suddenly realized what had happened. Jessica was unknowingly helping the same woman she had yelled at almost two weeks ago. It would seem, though, that the woman she had thought was an old woman was actually a young lady in disguise. Her face seemed different too, and Jessica couldn't explain that at all.

"You seem to have learned something since the last time we met. Perhaps you'll keep what you learned close to your heart at all times. After all, you never know when you might be entertaining someone interesting unaware, hmm? Ah, and I believe you need to talk with your friends about your attitude lately. Oh, look, it would seem your father is a bit impatient. You should probably go." The woman said in a voice that was as smooth as silk.

Jessica turned toward her dad. "Just a minute dad! I'm just helping someone with their groceries!"

"What do you mean? Oh! I get it, you're helping me with the groceries, right? Then get over here!" He replied. Jessica was confused, but when she turned around the woman wasn't there, and niether were her groceries.

When Jessica got home, she called her friends and apologized. Mark was ok, but he admitted that he was sad that Jessica had started ignoring him when he had only been trying to help. Christine said that she had managed to salvage the skirt and that her car was ok, so they were 'all cool'.

Saturday, Jessica got dressed up in her nicest dress, hoping that nothing would go wrong. The doorbell rang, which Jessica took as a good sign. Her father opened the door and called for her. When she came to the door, though she found that Daniel wasn't there. An older gentleman, somewhere around the age of 60, was standing at the door wearing a dusty gray suit. Jessica was sad, she thought that Daniel wasn't coming. The man looked like one of the people her mother did business with.

Jessica spoke to the gentleman regardless, and was surprised to hear the words "Your carriage awaits you, m'lady." As the man moved out of the way, gesturing toward the limo in front of the house, Jessica saw that Daniel stood holding out a hand, waiting for her to come with him. Feeling joy like she had never felt before, Jessica kissed her dad goodbye, and took Daniel's hand. When they got into the limo, Daniel gave Jessica a beautiful flower corsage, which matched her dress perfectly. The rest of the night went by as if it was carried away by magic, everything going perfectly, and it ended with a perfect kiss.

Jessica never forgot the lesson she had learned about humility, and stopped taking the blessings she had for granted. Her car got repaired, and she graduated. Years later, when her daughter asked her what her prom was like, Jessica told her daughter all about what had happened, and about the first magical night she had spent with Daniel, her husband. Her daughter wished that one day, she could be just like her mom.