It was a cool fall day, making the college campus look picture-perfect with everyone in matching school-spirit sweaters and colored leaves littering the ground. Evander walked across campus, head down, headphones in, making his way to the library. He felt most at home in quiet places, surrounded by books rather than other students. Time had passed since Harlow had left him, but even at 20 his looks were youthful and betrayed the difficult life he had already endured. His hair had grown longer, now reaching past his shoulders, often haphazardly tied back. As he walked, he reached to caress the lightning bolt necklace he always wore. He had made it himself, shortly after Harlow left. It was something to take his mind off his loneliness, and he had made Helios a matching one for his collar. Now his home was full of trinkets like these, ways to pass the time until the next disaster.

As he approached the library, Evander’s body tingled, similar to when a leg falls asleep, but covering every inch of him. He stopped. Every hair on his arms and neck stood on end, and he even felt the hair on his head raise ever so slightly, like when you’ve been rolling around in soft blankets in dry weather. He took a breath and sat down on a nearby bench, holding on to his necklace with one hand, gripping the bench arm in the other. His headphones were still in, but he could no longer hear the melodies.

It hit him quickly—a mix of blood red, bright blue, orange, sparks, screaming. His ears popped as if he was thousands of feet in the the air, his head swam with an overwhelming sensation of dread.

It was over in seconds. Evander opened his eyes slowly, re-adjusting to the bright afternoon sunshine. His hands ached, and his head throbbed steadily.

He wouldn’t get any work done today. Better he went home, Helios was probably hungry anyways.

Evander sat on the same porch he said goodbye to Harlow and contemplated his next move. A small, metal dog moved through his fingers as he fidgeted while his thoughts ran wild.

He knew—he wasn’t sure how but that’s just how these things tended to work—that what he had experienced had manifested near Arête. He was absolutely involved somehow, but Evander also knew that if Arête was suspect to anything, he would have reached out already.

Making up his mind, he pulled out his phone.

After a weekend of fitful dreams and debilitating convulsions, Evander was exhausted by the time he awoke to Arête’s text message on Monday morning. After shooting a quick, definitive confirmation that there was no need for Arête to worry, he quickly fell back asleep.

He awoke in the early afternoon to many more messages. He was nothing if not consistent—Arête always reacted this way to Evander’s brand of delivering news. But it was in everyone’s best interest that Evander remain vague and terse.

Arête: If it’s serious, you should tell me. I could be in danger.

Evander: I’ll tell you when you’re in danger.

A couple hours later, he felt it happening again. He was working in the garden, Helios napping in the shade of a nearby tree, when every hair on his body stood straight up. Around him, a veil of blue, red and orange mist swirled and sparked. He closed his eyes and saw a dark room, filled with voices. His ears popped again. He was confused and couldn’t get a clear picture as to what was going on. He concentrated, steadied his breathing, despite the static plaguing his body.

Finally, the mist cleared and he saw Arête, walking towards a cloud of blue, with sparks of orange following behind him. He was in danger now.

Evander’s eyes flew open, and he scrambled to find his phone.