I wake up, weeping.

Kael's not there.

Neither is Nomsa, though I don't know why she would be.

Kael and I--or whatever feeling took over my body--laid there after...

Tears drip out my eyes, sideways down my nose and temples, onto the blankets and stones. Shivering, I smear them across the ground, like that'll erase them. I don't want to remember...I don't want my body how it is to be the thing Kael falls in love with.

How--how do I change this to be what I want? How do I get Kael to fall in love with what I want?

Maybe this library has detailed anatomy books--not like I'm creepy, I just...I shudder down at myself, the clothes still unchanged after...

I'm so creepy, I just let a glowy glove feeling take over my skin and do things to my voice I hate, things to my legs I hate, things to Kael they apparently liked with light abilities I can't even do on my own.

Maybe, the dead Destroyer (is there a dead Destroyer, to go with the dead Dawn?) came into my body when I was born but we're not entirely the same being. Maybe that was the dead Destroyer doing all that.

I roll over, away from the wall. My shoulder squishes a pile of clothing, knocks over a pair of beige boots, same style as Kael's that lace up to mid-shin.

"Oh," I whisper. "You got me boots."

Kael's not around to answer. After... we laid there, not moving, I don't know how long, but Kael left to find new clothes, then I tried making that glowing light stuff come back but it didn't and the weird glove was squeezing my heart but then it mostly shrunk inside an urge to bawl my eyes out.

So I squished that feeling up too, and faked being asleep when Kael came back, and I think they whispered about leaving clothes there for me then left again. Then I cried super quiet, getting the backs of both palms crusty, legs crossed on the blankets. And somehow I fell asleep for real.

Pushing aside the boots, I sit up. My eyes burn, like that white soup the kitchen always cooked in winter has sat under my face for hours. I rub my eyelids, but my fingers no longer feel like mine; are these really the instruments I used to drag Kael by the hair and claw light inside their brain?

That Destroyer part of me knew exactly where to place my fingers to gently graze Kael's brain; this feeling inside me makes me shudder, whatever it was that made me do...made me say...I shudder harder, and tear out of my plain white clothes, into the vaguely gray articles folded on the edge of the blankets.

I shudder.

What is Kael going to tell Nomsa? She leaves, and now we have no gardener, we definitely kissed, and I think the one who temporarily lost their soul is me.

My stomach growls. I run hands through my tousled hair, my heart rate picks up; I couldn't find the tunnel hours ago (hours? How long have I slept?) and is Kael going to come back here?

I fold up the white clothing, and slide my socked feet into the boots, goosebumps prickling like these could belong to Kael--I grit my teeth and shove that feeling down, shove that feeling down I'm not crying or going glove-skinned.

Sideways, I shuffle out of the gap, the lighting more dim than this morning. So hours have probably passed--I stop. In the mouth of the gap. My breath catches, and Kael looks up--they have a pile of a dozen books against the wall between us, and on their legs they have one open to the last few pages.

They grin, timidly, over the pile of books. "Good evening."

I stand, frozen. "Evening?" I manage.

They nod, then stare back at their book. "I brought food." Their eyes flick up to mine. "So...that was a thing."

"Yeah." I push my voice up higher, forcing my legs to carry me out of the gap in the corner. "That was...I don't know what...I was doing."

Their lips purse. "Really? Because..." Their eyebrows rise. "Hmm."

Heat prickles my neck, but I make myself walk calmly, past the books, over their extended legs. They've got a thin gray gown on, barely to their knees, shorts faintly visible. Our boots match.

Our boots match.

I cough, and crouch by the pink sack pressed to their arm--they've arranged themselves cozily between the food sack and the book stack. "I don't know...what came over me."

"You figured out light lances no problem." Their tongue pokes into the back of their lips.

I grimace. "Can we...not? Talk about it?"

Kael blinks. "Why? It happened. You can't possibly be uncomfortable about a thing that already happened."

"Have you heard of embarrassment?" I untie the cord around the sack.

"Okay, yes, I guess that would make you uncomfortable about a thing that happened. Why are you embarrassed?"

"I didn't...I don't know if that was actually me."

"So...you didn't actually want to do that." They stare at their book.

The sack's loaded with crackers, and green cheeses. I pile them in my hands. "Have you seen Nomsa since earlier?"

They pluck at the edges of their shorts. "You are dodging what I said by asking another question. But the answer is yes, we ate lunch together. I told her you were sleeping and she told me to bring you back some food. Then I said we should meet for supper, and it's about supper time, so we should head back." They shut one eye and stare at me. "After you say it. Did you actually want to do that?"

I stuff cheese in my watering mouth, never mind that we're apparently going back to Zadia's quarters to eat. "Do you think," I mumble, "there's a dead Destroyer like there's a dead Dawn?"

They open their other eye. "That's not an answer."

I chew, and sit cross-legged. My whole body feels weird, exposed. Anywhere they stare, they basically know what's underneath. I swallow. "That is my answer."

They keep staring. "You're going to have to be more blunt than that."

I force the quiver in my fingers to stillness, staring at the brick wall above the pink food bag. I almost scoot backward and press my shoulders into the book racks, but moving feels weird too. "I think that was the Destroyer part of me. I don't know how to do any of that light stuff on my own." I swallow, I don't bring up my voice, why I was talking different--I don't know why I talked different, what compelled me to... "Could there be me in here"--I poke a finger at my chest, at the squeezing, hot feeling--"and the Destroyer from the past?"

"Uh, Troy," they say, "you are the Destroyer. Nobody saw you as a baby and went 'hey, guess I'll shove the Destroying One's spirit in here also!' You are literally just the Destroyer."

"But..." I look away. "I didn't feel like myself. I wasn't in control."

Or maybe I was? But not really?

"So, for like the third time, did you actually want to do that?"

I open my mouth. I pause. Stare at Kael's hooded eyes. Their fingers on the edges of the book fold the page back and forth. "I wanted to, but not with..." I motion vaguely to my lap. Not the crackers and cheese in my hand there, but... "Not like a boy."

They stare. "I see." They still stare. At... I move my arms and elbows out of the way and pull my knees up. Are my ankles wide enough? I press my boots together.

"Kael," I say. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking." Their gaze flicks up to my face. "I liked it. And I'm not embarrassed about it. I quite liked your body."

My neck prickles and I shove down a squirm. "That's the problem."

Their head tilts, hair flopping. "It is?

"Yes." I shove food in my mouth, crunching through crackers and squeaking apart cheese. "Duh, Kael. Why do you think I'm going by they? This body makes me uncomfortable."

"Huh." Their fingers bend the pages back and forth, and they tap their skull against the wall. My fingers have clung to that skull--

"I think maybe my body..." I shove cheese in my mouth, not finishing that sentence. I probably shouldn't admit to Kael that my body wanted them like that more than I did.

"I don't feel weird about my body."

"But..."

"Do you think I would love you, if you looked less"--they wiggle a hand at me--"and more?" They wiggle the hand to the side.

My face burns. "What's that"--I wiggle my crumb-dusted hand back--"supposed to mean?"

They tuck their legs up, lifting the book to plant it atop their knees. Their fingers fiddle with the book cover's corners. "Remember when I said I thought I just liked you, and not especially guys in general? Well...what happens if I was wrong, and you changing how you look makes me quit liking you so much?"

My eyes narrow. "You don't want me changing."

They snort. "I don't want anything changing." Their eyes flick down. "Zadia says that a lot. Half the time she's gotta be wrong though.

"Anyway." They smirk. "Now that we've hurt each other's feelings again, wanna get revenge on me? I like your revenge."

I wrinkle my nose. "No! Did you not just listen--"

"Right, yeah." They wave a hand. "You and your body, I get it. That last bit was a joke."

I shove a cracker into my mouth. Was it though? Or do they actually want me like...that and not like this, here, eating crackers and sitting with my legs pulled in?

"Okay I'm going to finish reading this, then we're going to Zadia's quarters." Their gaze goes to the book on their knees.

"Fine," I mutter, eating crackers, scanning the pile of books Kael's gathered--they aren't prophecies, like I expected. Heart of the Night, Merchant's Daughter, Bound by a Kiss... "You're reading romance books?"

"Uh, duh. Now be quiet so I can read."

I chomp loudly through flaky crackers.

***

Zadia's quarters. Nomsa's not around.

I flop facedown on the mattress and Kael eases the trapdoor shut, then flops down beside me, to their back. The half-empty bag of food crunches on their other side, and their hand brushes my shoulder.

I both shiver at their touch and want to swat them away. But I don't move when they scoot closer, arm stretching over my back.

"So what do you want to tell Nomsa?" they ask.

I soften, slightly, at this. "She's probably going to ask if we kissed."

"Right." Their head nods, shifting the mattress. "We could...just say my soul is still very much intact."

"And," I breathe into the fabric, "she's going to figure out at some point that I'm no longer magically doing what you tell me to do."

"Yeah..." Their elbow shifts under my shoulder blade.

"But definitely don't bring up...that."

"It'd probably gross her out anyway."

My skin can't stand them touching me anymore and I roll away, sitting up and pretending like I needed to re-do the knots on my boot laces. Kael sits up too. "Maybe," they say, "she'll start gushing about what she learned of Chondra's plans and we can--"

The trapdoor creaks. I sit up. "Hi Nomsa."

Her head pops in. "Did I hear Chondra's name?"

"Yeah, did you learn about her plans?" Kael asks.

"I don't know, has Troy gotten their Destroyer powers yet?"

"Nope," I say.

"Huh." She slams the trapdoor open. "I was hoping you'd say yes so I could say 'hey, my answer is also yes!' but you've ruined that dream." She hoists herself out, crawling to the mattress and planting herself between us. "Were you two kissing on Zadia's bed?" She crosses her arms.

"No," we both say.

She stares at Kael, then at me, with narrowed, silver eyes. "That was a fast answer. Did you suck Kael's soul out? Are you both seriously that uselessly incompetent? Please do not make me your babysitter, babysquatting is boring."

"I gave up my gardener powers," Kael says.

Nomsa turns to them, face hard. "You dumbie," she hisses, snatching their sleeve. "You gave up your powers? How are we going to have a competent Destroyer now? You just sent...decades of prophecies and waiting down the toilet! Wait." She lets go, then squints at me. "Why did you both change clothes?"

"Practicing"--I fold my arms--"in the library had some mishaps."

"Before or after Kael revoked his powers?" She crosses her arms, mirroring me, except I'm in gray and she's still in the same white shirt and shorts of this morning, and some shiny boots, probably those ones she wanted to fetch from her quarters.

"After," I say. Mine and Kael's old clothes hide in the food sack, beneath nearly empty cloth-wrapped rolls of cheese, and she better not go looking.

She sticks her tongue out. "Congrats, we no longer have a herald for the Dawn, and you can't train without making a mess, great going guys."

"Maybe it'll work out," Kael says.

Nomsa just flops to her back.

"So." I shift to my knees, making the mattress squeak. Shafts of sunlight through the dusty windows play over my thighs. "What did you learn of Chondra's plans?"

"Three things." Nomsa lifts her fingers. "Number one, she hasn't even re-decorated the high general's office. It's still covered with all Livia's plants and vines. Number two, she's bold enough she let me into her room with only one guard--didn't see their face, they had some dopey white armor on, so I have no clue who the guard was. Number three, she warned me she's going to sweep every speck of this fort with mist tomorrow morning and drag everyone out kicking and screaming if she has to to make them join her battlefront assault. Except the baby area I guess."

"She can do that?" Kael's eyebrows furrow. "She can sweep the whole fort with mist?"

Nomsa shrugs. "Guess so. She sounded pretty serious."

I rub my temples. "So you just walked up to her quarters, and she told you how tomorrow's going to work? I thought...well, that sounds too peaceful."

She shrugs again. "I was ready to sneak through the window and steal letters. But nope, the halls around the high general office are shockingly empty of traps, and there's paint all over the walls inviting you to a personal audience with the high general."

"She can sweep the entire fort with mist?" Kael mutters. "Since when?"

"Don't look at me." Nomsa slides her hands under the back of her head. "I wasn't here when she took over."

"Was she...not that powerful before?" I ask.

"She could barely make mist before," they scoff.

"But she was wicked with light lances. Maybe she finally figured it out."

"But how?" Kael asks.

"I don't know, maybe she finally figured it out," Nomsa says.

Kael gives her a withering stare.

"Anyway." Nomsa yawns. "Seeing as how we have to be out of here early tomorrow morning, we should probably pack, yeah?"

I grimace at the room; we have to pack the piles of clean clothes, and the laid out food supplies that seem to have doubled, and still wash the dirty clothing. Nomsa, at least, has washed hers, hanging them up on a repurposed tripwire, in the corner above the windows.

"How long do we have?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Chondra's got to charge up a little bit before sweeping anything with mist, so it won't be before dawn, at least."

Kael slides off the mattress, shuffling on their knees to the middle of the rug. "Let's eat first. Then we can wash things and get ready."

***

Kael takes me through the tunnels to a pool somewhere in the labyrinthine fort. There, under a high-domed, black-purple ceiling, we wash out clothes in a triangular pool of shallow water. Under my knees, a trickle of liquid enters the pool; opposite me, a trickle leaves, disappearing into a gap in the stones.

The floor holds intricate, tiny tiles, all colored black or gray. They make spirals looping in mirrors of each other.

The dome ceiling echoes with our movements; every splash of water, every scrub of cloth against itself, every slide of soap and breath.

Kael doesn't say anything. They work methodically through the dry pile of clothes on their left, submerging one and scrubbing it, then wringing it out and setting it on their right.

I copy them--soak a shirt, rub it, scrub it, then a few breaths after Kael sets their clean item aside, I do too.

Laundry washed, they wordlessly stand, hugging the wet clothing to their stomach, green blob of soap atop the pile. I wring out mine then also hug my bundle of wet clothing and soap, following the bubble of mist bobbing over their shoulder, back to the hall, across dark blue stones, to the pair of false bricks hiding the tunnel entrance.

"So..." I break the silence. "This fort just has a pool off the side of the hall where people do their laundry?"

"Yeah."

They crouch, hands sticking out and pushing the fake mud-yellow stones. They look nearly exactly like real ones--maybe slightly more bumpy, broken up. But they're made of a material light enough I could kick one and send it tumbling up the corridor. Theoretically. They weren't hard to slide to open the tunnel, anyway.

"That laundry pool doesn't look redecorated," I say. "It still looks night warrior-y."

"Yeah, no one bothered hanging banners in there."

Kael pushes the stones back and to the side, then shuffles forward, bent over and holding their dripping laundry vertical to the floor.

I duck after them.

"Please shut that," they say. I roll my eyes, but use a foot to hook around the lower stone and push it sideways and out. Some mechanic lever attached to the fake stone clicks shut, then I use my elbow to swing the other one closed. Kael and their mist bubble haven't waited for me, leaving me in near darkness. So I run, stooped over, body cold and absorbing laundry water.

"Kael I feel like you're mad at me," I call, voice echoing.

"Mad at you?"

"Yes, you're not saying anything."

"This again? I'm not mad."

I catch up to the ring of white light, panting with my awkward weight of laundry. "You sure?"

"Yes."

I bite my lip. "You're not convincing me--"

"I'm tired," they say, without looking back. "Please stop talking."

"No," I say. "I want to figure out why you're acting weird."

They stop. I stop. "I said. I'm tired. My brain has given up for the day. Just let me focus on packing stuff and leaving here again."

My shoulders unshrug. "Oh."

They stride forward.

"Um, don't forget your rocks in the library."

"I won't."

***

author note: this is a chapter about Kael and Troy trying to communicate, and just...missing. And now they're going to leave the fort and who knows if they'll have time to talk much after that :/