Los Angeles - Milo

Training with Liz was a breath of fresh air that I desperately needed. Having to fence with people twice your height is exhausting for both the duelers. The bigger one has to bend down for me in order to give me a fighting chance, and I need to look almost straight up for the majority of the fight when their knees get tired.

Of course, we’re both young and I was out of practice, so our practice sounded exactly as it was: two six-year-olds flailing metal sticks around. Stupid as it sounds (and trust my word, it sounds more stupid to me), I enjoyed it. To me, it felt like I hadn’t enjoyed anything in a long time like I was cruising by my childhood wondering where the fun was.

Liz showed me to enjoy myself.

After the hour of training, we walked together to the two locker rooms of the tiny training area, both of us lugging a giant bag of fencing equipment behind us. We dropped it down like a luggage of bricks and laughed at our struggle.

“That was a lot of fun, Milo,” Liz said with a wide grin.

“Yeah, I’m happy you’re here now.” I bent down, mocking my dad, and offered my hand for a handshake. She laughed, and we shook hands and went our separate ways into the boys and girls’ locker rooms.

Before I could make my way into one of the stalls, I felt a spike in my left hand, where I shook Liz’s left hand. A dull numbness that stole all feelings from my limb… climbing and climbing up my arm and down my back until I fell to the ground.

As I felt my eyelids grow heavy, I could hear that Liz heard me fall from the other side of the stall, screaming “Milo? Milo!” As my vision slipped to black.

- -

“You should know that breaking the rules has never been my style,” I heard a lady say as my eyes floated awake once more.

Once I could lose my disorientation, I saw a girl far older than six years. I would guess a teenager, with beautiful snowy white hair and a pale face. Her mellow blue eyes looked exhausted and looked at me like I was someone stupid, but someone she needed to respect. She wore a small leather tunic over an itchy looking white shirt and a long brown skirt that went down to her knees as we sat together in an enormous bedroom.

This is like my dream from last night, I thought, immediately looking at my hands to see if I was a different age. I was, but not quite as old as last time. This time, I seemed to be a little older than the girl in front of me… maybe 17 or 18. Not nearly as much hair on my arms and legs, and basically no armor, but I still looked surprisingly strong for how young I was, with rather large muscles that were impressively honed.

Without intending to, I heard myself say out loud, “It’ll be for a little bit of time each day. Just trust me, alright? We’ll be fine.” The voice that came out of my mouth made me sit up straight. It sounded like my voice, but deeper and a little more amplified. It was strange… Is this me?

“I’m paid to trust you, Milo.” the lady said.

'Milo'! This person I dream about is me… yet it’s not me. Perhaps all these dreams are figments of my imagination, but they feel so real that it would hurt my mind for it to be true.

“Then do your job, Elaine. Not only your job as my protector but as my friend. Let me learn...” Again, without me willing to move a muscle, my hand went forward to hold her’s. “Teach me how to use magic.”

I saw the girl’s - Elaine’s - cheeks redden as she looked away and out a nearby window. It was nighttime, in a civilization I’ve never seen nor recognized. It looked like something out of a fantasy: with what looked like wizard’s towers, flags of a kingdom I didn’t know, and old log houses that spanned for miles. And we were above it all.

Elaine looked back at me, the blush hidden away as a serious face replaced it. “I’ll teach you the basics,” she said, “but you mustn't tell anyone.” She let out her hand for a handshake of confirmation, and I took it. I looked down to take a closer look at her hand, however, and what I saw shook me like an earthquake.

Liz’s crimson bracelet.