Twilight Abuses the Cutie Map

by Cxcd

Broken Family - (02) The Mayor

In the middle of the seemingly peaceful town, a large borderline monotlitic circular structure dominated the sky-line. No other buildings came close to it’s height, the ancient spire being the tallest by a small landslide.

Much like the rest of the village, the building was decrepit. What was once state of the art a hundred years ago was falling apart from years of neglect and disrepair. Red paint peeled the walls, while the wood sagged under every step. The flags that united the three tribes all those years ago were no more than tattered cloth, being held up by nothing more than a metal pole.

Once a friendly town-hall became a foreboding structure, shooting fear through the hearts of anyone who chanced a glance in its general direction.

Inside of said building was a large hall. The room was a huge cylinder, smaller levels being separated by balconies that went higher and higher. Spotlights dangled from balconies, glowing an orange light, a stark contrast to the cool blue light outside.

Three doors were evenly spaced across the room. Above each door, a corresponding sign. The one to the right said ‘District of Flyers.’ To the left, a sign was crudely drawn with what looked like charcoal, simply stating ‘Strongers.’

Cassandra was sitting on a wooden chair, pushed against the frame of the third door. Her body was awkwardly positioned, her torso facing the dull, gray, and humid room, while her legs were facing towards the open door. Towards the cool air. Towards freedom from his horrifying palace. She wore an expression of concern, hiding underneath a facade reminiscent of the word ‘calm.’

Her leg was bouncing up and down, tapping impatiently. Being the daughter of the richest man this quarter of the village has long since taught her patience. Waiting was her special talent. Yet being here, in the hall where the other half conversed was enough to get anyone nervous. And it was apparent.

Eventually, to her left, she heard the sound of creaking floorboards. She turned her head, looking at the incoming person.

It was the mayor of the Magical. She was about the same height as Cassandra, she also had black hair down to her shoulders, cut short. She wore a brilliantly white suit, showing off the magical might. Something her family was proud of. Something every family was proud of.

She stopped in the door, looking at Cassandra with her beady eyes. Along the bridge of her nose was a small indent, where glasses were supposed to sit. For some reason, she wasn’t wearing any.

“Come.” She said, taking a hand from out of her own locked fingers. “The meeting will start shortly.”

Her voice was raspy and low. Slowly, Cassandra got to her feet. As long as she was next to a magical, she felt a little bit better. Together they walked into the hall. Cassandra craned her neck upwards, trying to take in the full scale of the place they were in. The spotlights put spots in her eyes, blinking away the light.

Suddenly, a hand shot out, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her back. Cassandra’s heart almost stopped, her breathing became ragged. She turned around, looking at the mayor. She had a patient look on her face. Slowly, she raised a finger, pointing to the floor.

Cassandra followed her finger. On the floor were pieces of tape, separating the large room into thirds.

This was a warning. Cassandra had just been warned.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she took a few steps backwards. She didn’t want to cross into their territory. At that point, her life wouldn’ve been forfeit.

Creaking floorboards warned the pair of an approaching figure. From her right, she turned to look.

A taller man was approaching. His suit was a fuzzy brown leather-like material. His hair was brown, his suit brown, his eyes brown.

Cassandra looked at the man, then the floor. He was, for some reason, beyond the tape. Cassandra looked back up at the man. His face reminded her of father. A warm, yet tired look down, he offered a smile, stopping a short distance away.

“Jennifer!” He said, clasping his hands together. “What do I owe the pleasure of discussing today?” He flicked his wrist out, pulling up his sleeve and revealing a watch.

“We don’t need to wait for… her.” The mayor, now known as Jennifer, said. Her voice dripped with malice, which confused Cassandra.

“You’re right. This is just between us?” He asked.

“Right.” She said.

“So… no weather stuff?” He shrugged his shoulders, holding the palm of his hands up towards the sky. “Because that was a freak accident last night. Our team just got overwhelmed, and the reserves were already-”

“It’s fine.” Jennifer responded curtly. The man stopped talking, looking onwards. No matter how hard Cassandra tried to put a name to his face, she couldn’t do it. Simply put, the man was unfamiliar and foreign. And Cassandra’s family knew everybody.

“Excuse me.” Cassandra said, making her presence know.

“Hey, young lady.” The man waved. Jennifer looked from Cassandra back at the man, judging and making her place in the space well known. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” Even the man’s face had dropped, almost expecting Cassandra to last out.

“My name is Cassandra.” She said. “I don’t know who you are, and my family knows everybody.”

“Oh- well, that’s obvious.” He said, laughing slightly. “I don’t come from over there, Cassandra.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, suddenly even more wary of the brown-suited man.

“Well…” He stood from his knee, slowly turning around.

Thats when she saw it.

On his back were a pair of equally brown wings. Maybe Cassandra hadn’t seen them due to the light. Maybe she hadn’t seen them because they blended in. Or maybe it was because seeing a pair of wings was completely out of expectation, she wasn’t even looking for them.

She let out a frightened gasp, taking a few short steps backwards. He finished his twirl, letting a sickening smile cross his features.

“It’s rude to stare.” He said with a faint smile still lingering across his lips.

“If we could get back on topic-” Jennifer said, stepping infront of the horrified human. “We have found evidence of a flyer entering magics territory.”

“Is that true?” He asked. Suddenly, his smile shifted to a confused frown. “Why would a flyer ever step foot into your part?” He asked, looking down upon Cassandra.

“We believe he was accompanied by a magical.”

“So- A traitor?” He asked.

“It would seem so.” Jennifer finished.

“W-Wait!” Cassandra cut in. “No! I- I know me and her haven’t been on the best of terms- but she isn’t a traitor! Just a little confused!” She sputtered out, looking at both of the adults.

“With that kind of language, I might take you for a traitor.” Jennifer said. Cassandra took a few steps back.

“N-No! I’m just saying-”

“Saying what? That you trust a flyer?”

“No! I never said that! Listen-”

“What’s wrong with trusting a flyer?” The mayor of the flyers asked.

“Everything.” Jennifer responded. Her gaze hardened. “I don’t know what your tribe’s problem is with magicals, but you lot aren’t good. You need to stay far away from us.”

“I could say the same about you.” The mayor responded. “All you prim-and-proper people, always thinking your so high and mighty. No wonder you took down the queen all those years ago. You dopes probably thought you could run the country. Extinct us. You and the strongers, working together.” The two were now nose-to-nose, staring eachother down.

“We never worked together. It was your kind who took down the queen. I know it.”

“Have you ever stopped to consider the third tribe?” A new voice spoke. Cassandra nearly jumped from her skin as she whirled to her left.

A new character appeared. She was taller than the rest, bearing gray hair and a brown, much tidier suit than the flyer mayor. Her voice was soft and gentle, being a stark contrast to the other two’s argument.

“Andrew,” She turned to meet the gaze of the flyer. “I really expected better from you. Letting your emotions get the best of-”

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” He said. Instead of an angry retort, the new person just held up her hand.

“A clear misunderstanding is underway. Please, I implore you to listen. Cassandra here is a mere child. Do you think she would turn her back on the entire tribe?”

“I-I’m thirteen. I’m not a child.” Cassandra said.

“Of course you aren’t, honey.” The new person said. Cassandra felt at peace, the new force pushing a cooling factor upon the entire room. “But you do not intend harm upon your type, am I correct?”

“O-Of course. I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just- they were being unfair to Olliver!”

“Olliver. I assume this is the name of the person with the flyer?” The mayor asked.

“Y-Yeah. We don’t get along very well- but she isn’t a traitor!”

“I expect not.” She said, turning towards Jennifer. “And you. You were so willing to push out your own kind. Why?”

“There’s no room for corruptible blood.”

“You do realize if you push out Cassandra, the entire Hattinson bloodline will die with her.” Apparently, this struck a nerve. Jennifer turned from the new character to look at Cassandra. A distant visage crossed her face as she looked down.

“I… suppose you are correct.” Jennifer cleared her throat. “You were always one for reasoning, Miss Mayor.”

“Now.” She started again. “Apologize to Cassandra.”

“I’m sorry for thinking you are a traitor.” Jennifer said.

“Wh- Why are you being so kind?” Cassandra turned to look at Miss Mayor. “Aren’t strongers supposed to be mean?”

“I don’t think we’re mean.” Miss Mayor said with a kind smile. “Just the same as you don’t think your kind is mean.”

“What the hell?” She asked, looking completely baffled.

“Although I may defy your expectations, I expect you to keep dirty words out of your mouth.” She said sternly, yet not threateningly.

“S-sorry. I’m just- surprised. You aren’t mean.”

“Nobody is mean. I’m under the impression that the three tribes hating each other is none more than a misunderstanding. If I had seen this coming, I could’ve stopped… this.” She hesitated. The sound coming out of her mouth unwieldy from such a pronounced person. It didn’t sound right for her to stutter like such. “But this situation, Olliver with a flyer, could be the start of a new era on earth.”

“What exactly are you implying?” Jennifer asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What i'm implying is something I should’ve done long ago.” She said, turning towards the group once more. “Let Olliver and the flyer have their fun. Perhaps once again Earth will be reunited under a single banner: The banner of the Human Race.”

---

“Go, go, go!” Ollie said, ushering Trent across the street. For the past ten minutes, they had been ducking and weaving across the streets. The most anyone had seen of the pair was the footsteps they left, or hardly a glance as they disappeared behind a building.

“Where are you taking me?” Trent was practically wheezing. Every minute she spent with the flyer made her realize something about their tribe: that they were all whiny.

“Just- wait a second, alright?” Ollie said. With tremendous force, Ollie used her magic to push a cart, providing cover while they crossed the busy street. Nobody seemed to notice, until the owner of the cart hastily returned, yelling something along the lines of ‘My oranges!’

Finally, the two popped out from a hedge, and into one of the residential streets. Trent looked up, his breath being taken away by the sheer colorfulness of the homes. Compared to his district, this place looked like a clownhouse. Every building was a different color, each family having their own pride to flash dangerously. Each house screamed character, a few even having balconies that doubled as full rooms.

“What are you looking at?” Ollie asked, coming up from behind him. To her, this was nothing out of the ordinary.

“The houses are just so- so- poppy?”

“What do you mean?”

“The colors. I’ve never seen anybody paint their house maroon red before.”

“Well, how do you tell which one is yours?”

“You just- memorize it?” He shifted uncomfortably, the backpack rubbing his wings the wrong way. “Can we hurry up? My wings-”

“Shut up!” Ollie quickly put a hand over his mouth. She looked side-to-side, making sure nobody caught a whisper. “Be quiet. We’ll get there soon enough, I promise.”

“Mhhmh!”

“Sorry.” She said, removing her hand and wiping the slobber on her shirt. “Did you need to lick my hand, too?” She asked, slightly irritated.

“Like I was saying,” He lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “My wings are getting fed up. They need to stretch.” He proved his point by shifting his backpack again.

“Really?” Out of nowhere, Ollie materialized a sheet of paper and a pencil. She started scribbling down notes. “Can you tell me how that feels? Is it instinctual? Or- like a falling asleep limb-”

“Can’t we wait to do this?” He asked, once again slipping back into his impatience.

“Fine, fine, follow me.” She stood up, turning the corner. “And we’re here.”

“You're kidding.”

“Nope. This is my house.”

“Your house is maroon red?”

“No- this one.”

“Oh my sweet Astral.” He looked to his other side, the house being an eye-blindingly bright blue.

“What? What’s wrong?” She asked, looking him up and down.

“Of course you couldn’t see what’s wrong…” He ran a few fingers over the wood, feeling the painted grain. “The colors! It’s awful! You need some yellow to offset the balance. It’s so blindingly blue that I’m starting to see stars in my eyes!” He took a few steps back, rubbing his eyelids.

“Wh-Bu- it’s my family colors! Atleast, on my dad’s side.”

“What’s your mom’s?”

“Lavender.”

“That would’ve been better than… this! I take it all back, your tribe is the worst thing in existence.”

“Bu- are you-” Ollie stared, completely baffled. Maybe she was wrong about this whole ordeal. Maybe flyers were just- is he winking?

“Oh, you are too gullible.” He said, suddenly doubling over in laugher. “That look! You looked like- It was-” His sentence was cut off by more laugher.

“I take it back. YOUR tribe is the worst thing in existence.” She said sternly, yet she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face.

Ollie still couldn’t get over the fact she was conversing with another tribe. To her, this was the most inhumane thing in the world. For her life, she was taught to avoid and be scared of these creatures. But here they were, sharing a laugh at a joke. Just how much were they like her tribe? She wanted to find out.

After the laugh, she opened the door to her home. It swung wildly on it’s hinges, hitting the wall harder than intended. Ollie cried out a greeting into the bright blue home.

“Ollie, are you home already?” Her mom asked from the other room. At this, Trent practically freezed. He was able to get along with Ollie farly well, but how long would that really last? How long until this new person would figure it out?

“Yeah, mom, in here.” Ollie said, giving a reassuring smile to Trent. “And I brought a guest!” Nope, that smile wasn’t reassuring. That was a devilish smile.

“You did?” Her mom suddenly came around the corner to the living room, examining Trent. She looked remarkably similar to Ollie. The only noticeable difference was her height and age, lines wearing thin on her visage. “Oh good. You finally made a friend! What’s your name, kid?” She held out a hand. Trent tentatively grabbed it, shaking it up and down. For a moment, he could’ve sworn some thought crossed her mind as her eyes flickered up and down.

“My name’s Trent.” He said. “I come from out-a-town.” He broke the handshake.

“Great. My name is Carly, and I think you already know this is my daughter, Olliver.”

“Ollie is fine.” Ollie said.

“How’d you two meet?” Carly asked, ignoring her daughters complaint.

“She found me.”

“O-out in the market, of course.” Ollie quickly corrected, shooting an evil glance towards Trent, who responded by smiling sheepishly.

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s almost lunch time. If you care to join us, I would be delighted.” She waved a hand, not waiting for a response and turning around. Trent gave Ollie a glance, to which Ollie responded by smiling, practically skipping into the living area. Trent made to follow, but suddenly found a hand against his chest.

“Actually- how about you go take a shower?” Carly asked.

“What?”

“You look like death.” She stated bluntly. “How’d you even get those burns anyway?”

“Freak accident.”

“Right.” She said. She could feel the eyes burning through him. It wasn’t a lie. It was a freak accident. “Anyway, there should be clothes in the clean hamper in the bathroom. I’m sure Ollie’s brother wont mind.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes now?” He looked down, straightening out and flattening the shirt.

“Well-” His shirt was burnt even worse than his exposed arms and face. “Just put on some new clothes.” She finally finished, turning and walking into the kitchen. Trent was left for a few more minutes.

What… generosity. From magicals. Every minute he stayed in this world, the more and more confused he became. A thought glossed over his brain.

Why did they flyers hate the magicals? They were blamed for the disappearance of Queen Astra. But- that was over three-hundred years ago.

Finally, Trent’s brain stopped working. He just shrugged, and walked upstairs towards the bathroom.

“I never thought you for the romantic type.”

“What?”

“I asked you to go outside, and you returned with a boyfriend?”

“Mother. No.”

“If it was that easy at your age, your father and I would’ve started dating much earlier-”

“It’s not like that!” Ollie finally shouted, thumping against the couch. “He’s just- nice! Surprisingly nice! And not mean!”

“Mean?” Carly raised an eyebrow. “Why would he be mean?”

“Huh? I mean, he isn’t mean. Like-”

“But why would you assume I think he’s mean?”

“It’s just surprising, that’s all. Imagine you meet somebody you expect to be mean, but they arent. Your world gets turned upside down, and-”

“And you’re telling me you aren’t in love?”

“I- ugh.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Forget it.” Ollie breathed.

To Carly, she thought that was… interesting. Something was wrong with that boy, to put it bluntly. When she shook his hand, instead of a magic signature, she got… nothing.

It’s like picking up something you expect to be heavy, finding it light instead. It was just… nothing. She found nothing. The absence of magic. Who exactly did her daughter bring home?

“Stupid wings!” He said as he managed to knock over an entire shelf of bottles. Flyer homes were usually more open-spaced, due to the fact that wings were usually ten-feet in width. Magicals, apparently, didn’t need so much space. Just manuvering in this closet was enough to make Trent claustrophobic. He almost apolagized to the wall for barely avoiding putting a hole in it.

Then, he managed to catch the shower curtian with his wing. With one sweeping motion, the entire fixture became dislodged from the wall. He let out a totally manly scream as the curtain covered his body like a straight-jacket.

“He’s been up there for five minutes and still hasn’t turned on the shower yet?” Carly said to nobody in particular.

“Maybe he can’t figure out the valves. Not many houses have two levers for hot and cold.”

“But five minutes?”

Finally, after trying to bend the fixture back into place, he hung the curtain back up, removed all the bottles of soap from the shower, and was safely inside. He reached a hand out, looking at the two-valved design. One said Hot, the other said Cold. Well, he wanted hot, so he was gonna get hot.

“Maybe we should check on-” Carly was cut off as a scream ricocheted through the walls.

“Looks like he found the hot valve.”

“Looks like it.”

“Ollie, listen.” Her mom said. Ollie turned to look at her mother, leaning against the counter. “I know… theres something wrong with that boy.”

“What do you mean?” Ollie asked. Through her mind, she started speculating a thousand ways on how she managed to screw up. When did she let it slip? What happened?

“Ollie. I shook his hand, and I didn’t feel anything.” Carly said with a concerned look. Ollie made an ‘o’ sound, realizing something so simple. Magical signatures. Every magic user had one. They were traceable incase a crime happened.

“You don’t need to tell me whats wrong with him-'' Wait, wrong? “-if you don’t want to.”

“Theres nothing wrong with him. He’s just- different.”

“Of course.”

“H-He isn’t like us. But he’s friendly. He’s nice. These past few hours, my world has been flipped upside down. I don’t even know-”

“He’s a flyer, isn’t he?”

---

With a toothbrush, Trent cut two holes in the back of the white shirt. He felt bad for vandalizing something that wasn’t his, but his wings needed to breathe, dammit! Even their clothes were different. It felt strange, holding a shirt without extra holes.

He managed to slip it on. He felt an appreciation for shirt-makers back home. He cut the holes too high, riding on the bottom of his wings. With a few more stretches, he managed to cut it even deeper to an acceptable level.

He didn’t use any of the soap while showering. It felt wrong to use somebody elses soap. Not only that, but everything was girly. Conditioners and other nescecitties that he didn’t feel comfortable using.

Also, the soaps were outside the shower for his own convenience. He didn’t want to wrestle the curtain for a second time.

Finally, he opened the bathroom door, backpack on his back. No doubt he would get strange questions about it, but he didn’t mind. It was his backpack- or, not really. The cool air his his face, reminding him of how humid the bathroom was.

Slowly, and uncertainty, he made his way downstairs. This wasn’t his house, after all.

“Trent, is that you?” Carly called. “Come downstairs, lunch is ready.”

“I’m here!” He called back, hitting the bottom step.

Ollie was sitting on the sofa, looking stoic. She wouldn’t look in his direction, or even acknowledge his existence. Carly, on the other hand, had her eyes lit up like a christmas tree.

“Come, take a seat. I made PB&J sandwiches.” She motioned at the coffee table, which true to her word, held two PB&J sandwiches on dinner plates.

“Oh sweet. I love these.” He eagerly sat down, ignoring Ollie, and delving into the sandwich.

“So. Your parents must be worried about you.” Carly said, sitting opposite Trent.

“Huh? How’d- No, they aren’t worried. It’s okay.” He waved his hand, and continued biting into the sandwich.

“Are you sure? You’re far from home, after all.” Carly said sweetly. That made Trent stop eating. He held his sandwich, mid-bite. Slowly, he looked up to Ollie. She was still avoiding his gaze.

“Uh- I’m- from New Orleans. Yeah. New Orleans.” Trent said. He continued into his sandwich, albeit a bit slower. Carly decided to stop pressing, and instead left the room to go do something.

---

“You’re kidding.” Said Harrow. “H-How do you know?” The gruff man asked, leaning over his desk. They were currently in a decently sized office, a window extending upwards with cloud-like architect predominantly taking up the design.

“A witness reported a burned teenager with blonde hair walking out of the Everfree.”

“Okay-” He leaned into his chair, it making a squealing sound. “Please, don’t get my hopes up. As much as I would like to think Trent is still alive, false hope is worse than no hope.” He looked upwards at the ceiling fan, currently lazily spinning around, wafting the stale office air. “This does beg the question of- who the witness is? I’m curious, that’s all. What Flyer would be out near the Everfree?”

“I hope you understand the situation we’re currently in.” Responded the Mayor’s secretary. “The witness was none-other than a magical.”

“A- What?” Harrow stopped, looking at the girl with wide eyes. “Are you- A magical?” His mind screeched to a halt. “W-Why did the- Why did the magical help identify Trent?”

“Contrary to popular belief, Magicals aren’t entirely evil.”

“B-But-!”

“We do believe Trent is currently residing with a magical, and hasn’t been brutally murdered. Please, keep your superstitions to yourself.”

“B-You are the guys putting up the posters! Spreading rumors about the other tribes! Straight from the horses mouth, you’re telling me that’s wrong?”

“Yes.”

“What? Are you kidding me?”

“Money is money. People will gladly sell their window space for a little extra cash. It’s a win-win situation for us. Boost the economy.”

Harrow leaned even further back in his chair, taking in the information. He didn’t want to believe this. He really, really didn’t want to think they’ve been berating the other tribes for no other reason than selling window spots.

“Right. Let’s assume this is true. What do I tell his parents? ‘Sorry, but your son was kidnapped by the opposing tribes?’ I’ve already told them he died during work. I can’t exactly take back the money I gave them for his funeral.”

“That’s entirely up to you, Mr. Harrow.” She said, standing up from her desk. “I’m sure his parents will be elated he is still alive. Good day.” She turned on a dime, leaving the office. Harrow took a deep breath.

“Right.” He also stood up. Trent’s parents had a right to know.

---

I remember writing a scene here, where Carly basicially looses her mind and is all like "ohmygosh, you're a flyer, oh wow we need to do research!" But I totally lost it and can't find it. This was before I started using a dedicated writing program and was just using google docs, writing inbetween dead moments in class. Bear with me, I know it's awful.

---

“No. We do not eat babies.”

“Are you sure? I’ve heard alot-”

“Please, please stop asking about baby-eating.” Trent was fully reclined in the sofa, his wings covering him like a blanket. He knew these questions would be boring, but- Sweet Astral they were boring.

“Fine. Well, what about…” Carly had been writing questions and answers on pieces of papers, along with a huge line of investigation results. Papers currently scattered the floor, each with information on them that related to Trent’s answers. “Do you lay eggs?”

“Oh my Astral. No. We do not lay eggs.” Trent said. He raised a finger as Carly started to speak. “Not another word about eggs.” Defeatedly, Carly laid down that specific piece of paper, looking blanker than the rest.

“Well- as far as I can tell, our lives are very similar.” Carly said, looking a mite disappointed. “The only real differences comes in wings, no magic, larger homes, different shirts, and worm-eating.”

“Whuh- worm eating? When did I say that?”

“When I asked, you said ‘Uh-huh, totally.’” She said, reading off of an apparent interview transcript.

“That was sarcasm.”

“Oh. Well, scratch that, then.” She said, scratching that off the list. “Ollie, do you have any questions?”

Ollie was currently asleep, laying next to her mother. Drool dribbled off her cheek and into the sofa cushion as she made a soft snoring sound.

“Ollie. Ollie, wake up.” Carly started lightly rocking her back and forth. Of course, she hardly budged. Trent decided, with his massive wingspan, to use the tip of feathers to slap!

“Aughe! I’m up!” Ollie said, bolting up and rubbing the new sore spot on her bicep. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“You wouldn’t get up.” Trent explained, shrugging his shoulers. Ollie shot him a mean glare.

“That hurt as much as being whipped with a towel. Man.”

“Ollie,” Carly cut in. “Do you have any questions for Trent.”

“Oh. Yeah. Can I touch your wings?”

“No.”

“But you just slapped me with them.”

“That was different. You were asleep, and it was funny. All pre-existing social restrictions go out the window when it’s funny.”

“Fine.” Ollie pouted. She turned to look at a clock in the room. “Say, when does dad get home?”

“He should be home any minute now.”

“Well- crap.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Dad’s been a bit of a- He takes his job too seriously being in the guard. Don’t you think if he saw Trent he would, you know-” He made a slicing motion to her neck.

“Oh. You’re right.” Carly stood up. “It was great knowing you, Trent.” She forcefully shook Trent’s hand, much to his dismay.

“What? What’s wrong with your dad?”

“Like I said, he wont be so receptive towards other tribes. If you could-” Carly held up a fresh backpack, free of the mud stains.

“Woah. You’re gonna give me a new one?”

“Yeah. The one I gave Ollie was already pretty banged up. I know this isn’t brand new, but it’s an upgrade to the one you got now.”

“Wow- I- This is awesome!” Trent excitedly grabbed the back. “And you already cut the back out?”

“Yup. It’s ready to go. Just slip it on, and-” Her sentence was interrupted by the sounds of the front door opening. Instantly, Trent threw the bag on hastily, adjusting and moving his wings to collapse within the small space.

Carly, on the other hand, used an incredible amount of magic to sweep all the sheets of paper littered across the room into a neat pile, to which she threw a blanket over.

A man walked into the small living room. He was tall, wearing what looked like guard armor with brilliant greens for camouflage. He had darker hair, similar to Ollie’s. Behind him, a kid, to which I assume would be Ollie’s brother, walked into the room, also dawning the same camouflage suit.

“Hey honey. I’m back-” He stopped, assessing the situation. Trent had both hands over his backpack straps, clinging it tightly to his skin. Ollie was looking over the sofa at her father with a fearful expression, while Carly was sweating after using such a large amount of magic.

“What did I miss?” He asked cautiously. As a guard, he was trained to understand and asses situations.

But here, he had no clue what just happened. His first thought was ‘affair,’ but Carly had never been unfaithful. That didn’t explain why Ollie looked so concerned, and it also didn’t explain why Carly was sweating profusely.

“Oh, nothing. Just went for a jog.” Carly said, brushing the strands of hair out of her eyes.

“O-kay. Hello, young man.” The father extended a hand.

“No!” Carly yelled. The father jerked his hand away.

“What?”

“He’s- uhh- having magical surges! He might hurt you!”

“Buh- I can take it-”

“I’d rather you not.” Trent said, the first words he spoke to the man. “I don’t want to be blamed for anything accidental.”

“So- some kind of late-bloomer? It’s rare for kids your age to be surging.”

“It’s a medical condition.” He lied. “The doctors said it was thematic- uhh- thematic constriction. My name’s Trent, by the way.”

“Hullo, Trent. Nice to meet you. I’m Carter, and this is my son, Jack.”

“Hey.” Jack said, waving his hand. “I’ve never seen you before.” He narrowed his eyes. “This is a small town. I think I would’ve noticed you.”

“I come from Griffonstone.” Trent said. “Just recently. Ollie here was nice enough to notice me and offer me some lunch.” He smiled.

“Griffonstone?” He asked. Something was off about his delivery. Whether is was his body language, his eyes, or his delivery, Carter didn’t trust the young kid. “Huh. Well, feel free to hang out. I’m sure Ollie would like the company.”

“Sorry. I actually have to leave. I didn’t tell my- my parent’s I was leaving. They might be looking for me.” He stuttered. Jack took this at face value, all his suspicions melting away. Carter, however, only narrowed his eyes further.

“Well, I’ll see you around, kid.” He waved, making sure to let the kid pass by unharmed. Ollie soon followed after him.

Once the door closed, he turned to his wife.

“Who the hall was that?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Carly said.

“That kid wasn’t normal.”

“Just because he can’t use magic doesn’t mean he’s not normal.”

“No- I mean, the way he talked. It was just like he was hiding something.”

“For all I know, he might’ve been.” Carly said, surprising Carter. “I don’t pry into lives that aren’t mine.” Carly walked away. Carter knew his wife well enough that statement was final. He let out a long sigh, turning around and heading upstairs.

---

Ollie and Trent took quick steps towards the border. Or, rather, the small stream that separated the magics and the flyers. They still managed to stay hidden, but after meeting Carly, Trent felt much more comfortable in this magics area.

He passed a two-story home that doubled as a bakery, taking in the sights and smells. He was quickly broken from the trance of standing in the sun, looking around at the magicals, by a very irate Olliver who accidentally lost him for a few moments.

Nobody walked by the stream. Being seen by the other tribe was a scary, scary thing to most people. Fortunately, the same applied for the Flyers. No flyers were on the other side of the stream, either. Which only solidified this entire surreal situation in Ollie’s head.

“Well.” Ollie said, stepping onto the desolate area between districts. “Here we are.”

“Huh. I’ve never came over here.”

“Me neither.” Ollie said. “Always avoided it. Didn’t have a reason to be here.” She turned towards Trent. “Guess this is goodbye, huh?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah.” Much to Ollie’s surprise, Trent sounded almost disappointed. “Yeah- i’ll be going then.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Alright.” She waved. Trent turned to wade across the shallow water. But, instead of stepping forwards, he stopped. He turned around to meet the gaze of Ollie.

“Are- are we friends?” He asked, moving his eyes away from Ollie’s. That was a question. Question of the century.

While basically harboring a fugitive is immensely stressful, while trying to deal with the fact you are willingly putting your trust in someone to which was supposed to be your enemy for the rest of time…

Ollie wouldn’t trade today for the world. She was happy that this had happened.

“I- guess we are.” She said. Trent smiled back.

“Listen, if you hear some knocks against your bedroom window late at night, I need somewhere to crash. Sound cool?”

“As long as dad doesn’t find out.”

“Cool. Bye.” He waved, and finally started trudging through the ankle high waters. On the other side, he removed his backpack, and with one final wave, disappeared into the allies.

A huge weight was removed off of Ollie’s shoulders.

But at the same time, she felt a disappointing sense of longing for her friend. A real friend. And not some prim-propper school bullies.

Life would continue, but with a heavy hole in Ollie’s chest.

---

“Hey, Ollie. You hardly said hi to your old man.” Carter said, leaning back into the sofa, going over guard formations in his notebook. He currently had bronze glasses over his nose, as being farsighted was a blessing and a curse.

“Sorry. I was distracted.”

“With a boy?”

“N-No. I mean, yes. But not in that way.”

“Uh-huh.” He said, scribbling something out like he was playing a game of crossword. “No, yeah. I remember when I met your mom. She was the same way to her parents.”

“Please, stop.” Ollie said, moving towards the kitchen.

“Where’d you go with him?”

“Dropped him off at home.”

“Oh, good. I’d like to meet his parents.” He flipped the page.

“Dad, it’s not- i’m not dating him.”

“I just want to talk.” He said, trying to force a smile away from his lips. His poker face could not be beat. He looked up at the clock in the room. “You were gone for three hours. Where does he live, by the border?”

“Actually, yes.” Ollie said, half-lying. “I dropped him off there. I don’t know exactly where he lives, but I trust him enough to find his way home.”

“Huh. Alright. Are you hungry? It’s getting late.”

“No, i’m good. Today was too exciting.”

“Really?”

“N-No, not like that.” Ollie said, exasperated. “I’m going to bed. Peace out.”

“Bye bye.” Carter said. As Ollie ascended the stairs, Carter looked back to the notebook. The conditions under which Carter met Trent were… suspicious. His military brain was bouncing off the walls, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t put it to what was off with the kid. He was lying about something. All the more suspicious was the fact he didn’t want to shake hands.

Maybe that ‘medical condition’ he had was actually real. Maybe it was just a set of circumstances that made his situation look so… look so suspicious. He seemed nice enough, just very, very nervous.

In that moment, sitting on a sofa, blankly staring at a filled notebook, he made a crucial decision.

He didn’t want to be the recluse grandpa. He didn’t want to be the far away, non-emotional family member. He felt he was already on that path with the way he acted towards Trent. Carter was going to make sure he was the best father-in-law humanly possible.

With a disappointed sigh, he stood up from his spot on the sofa. The sky outside had long since fallen, a darkness seeping through the blue living room. His body was sore from today’s marching session. In his mind, it was good to condition kids young, hence bringing his son along with him.

Carter marched upstairs, finding his wife laying on the bed, reading a book. He flashed her a smile before walking further down the hall, and into the bathroom.

Why was the shower fixture bent? He grabbed it with his hands, forcefully bending the curtain bar back into shape. Something might’ve happened, as he remembered it being straight yesterday. He would’ve noticed if it was bent then.

He turned his attention to the counter. All of the different soaps were sprawled out on the tile. He grumbled, manually and magically lifting the bottles back onto their proper place.

Finally, just when he thought he was done, he took a toothbrush from a drawer. Running water over the bristles, his fingers slipped, letting the brush fall into the sink. He ceased the water, and retrieved the brush.

What was hiding under the brush almost broke him.

In the middle of the porcelain sink, in the middle of his house, his humble abode that he worked so hard to afford for his family.

It was large. Larger than anything that could sneak in. Maybe by freak accident, but that still didn’t explain it’s size.

It, laying in the sink, was a white feather.

The only thought that went through his head was… Trent.

---

Knock Knock

The sound reverberated through the home. From the nearby couch, mom and dad both practically bowled over themselves trying to get to the door.

In one swift motion, the dad whipped open the door.

There, against all odds, was Trent.

Usually, the emotion would be relief. Tears of joy. Loosing their minds over their returning son.

Instead, all he got was-

“Get in.” The stern voice said. Trent wilfully obeyed. Unlike the last times, he felt like he had a backup plan. Ollies. It was stupid to cross the border again. It was pure luck Ollie and Trent weren’t spotted while crossing, and Trent’s wings weren’t fully healed. Healing spells made a world of difference. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve never thought his wing was broke earlier in the day.

Trent sat on the sofa. His mother and father stood infront of him.

“How dumb.” His father said. “Diving through a cloud? Did you not listen to anything during weather-training?”

“I- I know.” Trent said, looking at his still-on shoes.

“Then why’d you do it? That was stupid.” His mother cut in with the same tone. “We thought you died.” She said. Somehow, he felt like that didn’t phase her.

“I thought I could make it.”

“In a cloud, you are a lightning rod. You know that.” And so, the berating continued into the night.

Author's Note:

This was the very first attempt at writing MLP fanfiction I had ever tried. I submitted it to the website, and it got denied by the moderators. It's... definately rough. Something I'm not proud of. But damn it, the world must know how awful my early attempts were!