To get to the Arena, we have to walk through a small part of the forest. The pathway is lit by torches and the trees are draped with fabrics that lightly glow blue in the darkness. Coming from the trees we walk into a large meadow and the first thing we see is the massive, colorfully lit Arena towering into the night sky. We instantly slow down and look up. The Arena is an incredibly impressive structure. The stones light up in turquoise and white. Over the walls crawl light snakes, and hundreds of colorful flags wave at us from the top of the building. Bewildered, Psyrah and I stare at each other. We don’t have much time to linger because masses of people push themselves toward the arched entrance as enchanted worker bees on their way to their queen. Psyrah and I are on our way to the Flambeau River State Forest. The traffic is horrific; it looks as if the entire state of Minnesota is driving out. The normal 3.5-hour journey turns into 5 hours and I am glad we left early. From the parking lot we already see lights glowing in the distance. We leave our phones in the car since the Didelians have strict rules about electronic devices. They have a way of detecting them and people are advised not to even wear a digital watch. Chapter 8 Chapter 10 Chapter 9 Flambeau River State Forest Wisconsin October 24th, 2014 The Show: Part I The tunnel has led us into the gigantic center circle of the Arena. It’s dark and there are no lights to designated seats or to give us an indication of where we are. We meet more Didelians with blue glowing canes. This time I see both men and women. They are all wearing dark green capes with large hoods that make it hard to see their faces. The man helping us is tall and his face remains mostly in the shadow of his hood. I lean far enough forward to peak below and see a silver diadem that snakes over his forehead. He has piercing light green eyes and dark eyebrows. A scarf that he has in front of his mouth makes it hard to tell if he is smiling or not. He catches me staring and his eyes squint slightly. Then they widen and he steps back a little. Did I startle him? I must be imagining things in this strange mindset. The man steps forward again and regains his posture. Without even looking at the tickets, he points to the left but says no word. The moment his finger extends, a pathway lights up. A thin gold line starts at our feet, turns left, circles around the performance area and climbs up some stairs toward a gallery of seats. There, the line ends at two chairs that stand in a spotlight. Psyrah looks down at our feet and starts walking along the golden line. “Odd,” she stammers softly while she walks to the left. “Thank you,” I say to the man and he nods. I remember morfar telling me about The Guardian of the Stage, the old woman who stands next to the stage in every single show. If she was old when morfar and mother went to see the show, she should be much older now. But she doesn’t seem to have aged much in all those years. She stands straight and firm and looks powerful. She appears to be in good health. She is immaculately dressed in the most beautiful gown and she peacefully overlooks the performance stage. And she has done this ever since the shows started. In fact, she has never been absent since the very first show. Nobody knows why she stands next to the stage. She doesn’t perform and she doesn’t make any announcements, but she’s always visibly there. Unraveling Didelis claims that the woman who is named Deeri, is far over a hundred years old. You wouldn’t say… Suddenly, a younger man approaches the woman. His hair falls slightly over his eyes, and it is half long in the back. His eyes are light and his eyebrows are dark. He wears a beautiful long robe, a large silver necklace with a brilliant stone pendant and soft leather boots that make him float over the ground. His shoulders are extremely broad and he looks tall while standing next to the old lady. On his forehead he wears a crown. Once we reach the tunnel, we see ten beautiful, tall women with long, light-blue silk dresses, who welcome the visitors. They all look identical; their hair is braided around their heads and blue shiny lipstick glosses on their lips. Their skin shimmers like porcelain and this gives them an interstellar look. They all carry a cane with a brightly lit sphere of glass on the top that pulses in the darkness. With incredible swiftness, they wave the stick over the tickets people hold in front of them. Once the light scans the paper, it flashes violet. When it is our turn, the woman who is attending us smiles broadly. She has flawless straight white teeth and her blue eyes twinkle and radiate happiness. The stick flashes, and the woman nods. I look at my ticket and it seems nothing happened, but when I trace the paper with my finger, I notice that a stamp was added in the middle. This ticket is marked. We pass through the arched doorway and enter the obscure tunnel behind it. Large candles are hanging from the walls and flicker wildly which makes the shadows of the visitors dance. For a moment it feels as if we are entering an old castle in medieval times. People around us speak with extremely excited voices. In the tunnel it smells of fresh forest on a warm and rainy summer’s day. The line slows down, and for a moment we are stuck in a human traffic jam surrounded by walls. “Not much different from downtown Minneapolis,” I joke at Psyrah, who I can barely see in the flickering of the candlelight. When we push deeper into the tunnel, the line of candles ends. It is now impossible to see the entrance or an exit. Everything is pitch black and I wrap my arms around my body. Suddenly, a short, blue light flash hits our eyes. I blink a few times, while the flash continues behind my closed eyes, and look at Psyrah. “What was that?” “I’m not sure. Maybe they took a picture of our surprised faces which they will sell after the show. Like they do in Disney Land.” “Perhaps…” The murmuring of the people around us becomes louder and I can feel their anxiety mix with my own. “Perhaps we should hold on to each other,” I whisper. Psyrah laughs and she grabs my hand. I’ve always been the one who’s more easily scared. “It is a bit scary,” she admits. The forest perfumes intensify. Suddenly, all sounds in the tunnel mute. The whispers of the people around us, the sounds of our feet on the floor. As if someone turned the master volume dial to zero. I can’t even hear my own breathing. “This is what it must feel like to be blind and deaf at the same time,” I say, but all I hear is the voice in my head. In panic, I pull Psyrah closer and she throws her arm around me. Here we stand, in utter darkness like two scared little girls, waiting for what’s to come. My anxiety intensifies, and right when I’m about to freak out, a warm and good feeling rolls over me like a thick blanket of bliss. The desire to run vanishes. Psyrah loosens her grip, which means she feels it too. Relaxing music washes through the tunnel and I let go of Psyrah. I feel entirely peaceful as if I’m floating in a worry-free existence. I feel no hunger or thirst, I just feel completely content. It’s a radical change compared to how I felt just a minute before. A faint light appears at the end of the tunnel and the scent of forest gradually disappears. The exit. We’ll soon need to step out of this vacuum of warmth, delight, and nothingness. The candles return and our shadows dance on the walls once again. Slowly, the voices around me return to their normal volumes and I hear great excitement everywhere. I look at Psyrah and I see she’s smiling. The stress-free feeling of my body is still there. I look at my own dancing silhouette on the wall and suddenly it waves at me while my arms are hanging beside my body. Bewildered, I step back. Did I just imagine this? I nudge Psyrah on her side and make her look at the wall. I point at our dancing shadows but now nothing special happens; my shadow doesn’t wave again. I stare at the candles to see if they are part of the trick and that’s when I realize they are floating in front of the wall... They don’t have support anywhere. They are… floating! Totally perplexed, I poke Psyrah again, now harder. “Ouch!” Annoyed, she looks at me and tries to decipher my expression, but I nod my head in the direction of the candles. In the faint glow of the light, I see her eyes widening. I move toward the wall and stick my hand between the stones and a candle. Nothing is there! I hear bystanders gasp. I look at Psyrah again and smile. “This is going to be a great evening.” The candles aren’t the only things that changed. The colors around me seem brighter, the sounds are more intense, and people are smiling and laughing enthusiastically. It feels as if our reality shifted into a dream where joy is the only thing that counts. In my mind there is no tomorrow, no yesterday. Nothing matters but this great feeling and the wonder that I’m in right now. As we move closer, we see that the entrance looks like a tunnel that ends in darkness. Two massive statues sit above the arch and guard the doorway. One statue is a sphinx with a beautiful female face. She is looking down at us as if she is checking whether we are worthy of entering the Arena. Next to the sphinx, a proud bull with massive eagle wings faces the heavens. The trees behind the Arena are waving in the wind as if they are dancing to the soft melodies coming from the building. In the sky above, vague colored lights dance in the sky and they move to the same rhythm as the trees. It is not uncommon to see northern lights in this region and yet, it is enchanting to see them appear right above the Arena We follow the path around the inner circle of the Arena. “Naran, do you think different paths light up for different visitors? I think we only see ours.” I look around and see people climbing upstairs between seats, but I don’t see any lines or spotlights. “I guess so.” Once on the other side of the Arena, we climb twenty-two rows up until we reach our seats. They are fairly broad and made of a cushy red velvet fabric and look extremely comfortable. We throw ourselves down and the moment we land in our chairs, our pathways and the spotlight disappear. A leg support comes out of the chairs and they recline substantially. Music floats up from below and the seat vibrates lightly with the bass. A beverage is waiting for us in a cup holder on the outer side of our armrests. While sitting comfortably in our reclined chairs, the scenery slowly starts to change. From above the center of the Arena, small twinkling lights lower into the space and cover the entire Arena. Everywhere we look, small lights shimmer. I look up and stare through the open roof and see how the twinkling lights have blended with the stars in the night sky and the northern lights above us. This is what being in space must feel like… while sitting in a comfortable recliner seat. “Holy Moly!” Psyrah shouts enthusiastically. “Yes…” I whisper. I don’t think I will find words today to describe how I feel. I look down into the Arena. Our seats are fairly well positioned. From where we are sitting, we can probably see the faces of the performers. On the far side of the inner circle-stage, I see the performers’ gate. It is covered with a golden glow and right next to it stands an old lady, robed in a beautiful light blue dress. A silver crown is woven through her silver white hair. She holds a long, ivory staff with an illuminated violet sphere. “It’s Kai!” Psyrah shouts enthusiastically. “I think that’s the man who just dealt with our seats!” I answer. “Really?” You mean Kai touched my ticket?” Psyrah caresses her ticket as if it is much more valuable now. The man whispers something in the old lady’s ear. They both look into the Arena and scan the audience scrupulously from left to right. When they look in our direction, I can see their eyes. Deeri’s eyes are incredibly intense, it is almost as if… they are flaming. I haven’t heard grandfather or Unraveling Didelis mention this. Maybe it’s a reflection of the lights. Deeri whispers something to Kai, he nods and then disappears again through the performers’ gate. “It was Kai who touched our tickets... I can’t believe it,” Psyrah hymns. The old lady stays where she is and scans the audience again. When staring in our direction she slows down her movements. Her staff changes color from violet to bright white. I poke Psyrah to see if she notices, but she is too occupied with figuring out the headrest of the chair. Before I can point it out, the woman stares blankly into the Arena again. Suddenly, the thousands of tiny shimmering lights fade, and it becomes pitch black in the Arena. The murmuring of the people around us softens. They know it’s show time.

Chapter 7 | The Pandects | Lianne Arends I chuckle since I know exactly what happened. While on the phone, Psyrah likes to sit on a small bench in her highly organized apartment while curling her frizzy black hair around her finger. I guess the bench had equal difficulty dealing with Psyrah’s enthusiasm. Psyrah the calm and Psyrah the frantic. It is as if she has two personalities. From the few words I was able to actually understand, I deduct the context. She is talking about the Didelian show. Still, I don’t understand her excitement. We don’t have tickets. Neither Psyrah or I have ever seen the show in real life, and tickets are very hard to get. To acquire them you have to participate in a state lottery. The Didelians were in Minnesota a very long time ago, and we hadn’t won any tickets then, nor did we get tickets this time for Wisconsin. For us, the Didelian show will remain a childhood fantasy. “Psyrah, I know they are in Wisconsin, but we are not going.” “What do you mean, we have tickets? How?!” “Oh no! Really? Your poor uncle, what are the chances? Having a funeral in Kentucky on the same day… That’s ultimate bad timing. But what about your cousin Marge? Doesn’t she want them?” “Ah yeah, of course, that whole side of the family will be in Kentucky. And Jeff?” “No, of course, I want the tickets! What do you think? But everyone in your family would want them. I don’t want to take something that’s not rightfully mine. Imagine, we might get attacked by one of your crazy cousins!” “OK. Yeah. I understand. So, it’s for real. We have… Didelian Show tickets…” When I realize what’s happening, my brain goes on a slight strike. I suddenly understand the magnitude of the situation. Now Psyrah’s frenzy makes more sense. Chapter 6 Chapter 8 Chapter 7 Minneapolis, Minnesota October 23rd 2014 Psyrah's Luck When Psyrah calls, she has a feverishly excited tone in her voice and is tripping over her tongue. I can’t make any sense of what she’s saying. Psyrah, who is such a quiet and composed young woman, has lost it. “Cool down!” I laugh. “What on earth is going on with you?” “Didelians! Didelians in Wisconsin!!” She says more but I have to move the phone away from my ear. Her words are more comprehensible that way. Suddenly, I hear the sound of breaking wood, a loud thump, and then all is silent. Later, Discovery Channel had verified his stories. Wild animals indeed come from outside of the Arena into the ring and performed with the Didelians. After finding no rational explanation for this phenomenon, Discovery officially denominated the Didelians ‘the Wild-Life Whisperers’. The animal phenomena started rumors in the seventies that Didelians were diabolic hypnotists. The church forbade Catholics to see the show. The pope had even devoted a part of his Easter Speech to it from the St. Peter Square, in Rome, in 1986. Since then, there have been a good amount of fanatic anti-Didelian activist groups throughout the world. I remember Fox News, in the nineties, making statements. They hypnotize us! We have to protect our children against brainwashing! The Didelian shows started major discussions about the true intentions of the culture and their magical powers. Some people seemed to favor the idea of banning the Didelians from the United States, but luckily this never happened. In the beginning of 2003, the United Nations released a statement in which they reminded governments worldwide of the status of the Didelians. They are protected as refugees and have been granted the freedom to perform without restrictions in all the democratic nations of Europe and the U.S.A. Still today, the American and European governments are expected to assist the Didelians when needed. When I asked morfar why the governments don’t question this UN ruling, he said no government wants involvement in such an obscure and heated international matter. I asked him why and he avoided a straight answer. I am not sure he knew either. Psyrah’s news hits me like a bomb. We are we going to see… the Didelians. I have known about the Didelian shows since I was a little girl. The only people I know that have ever gone to the show are morfar and mom. They went years before I was born. Ever since, morfar has talked about ‘The Magical Show of Didelis’ to anyone who would listen. When I was young, morfar told me stories about the phenomenal acrobatics, the indescribable colors, the enchanting music, and the unbelievable towering Arena. He had tried to describe the show to both my brother and me. For us it was our favorite bedtime story. “The lights, they come from out of nowhere!” He had said. “And the music! The music comes from the underworld creatures in the center of the earth, and it travels all the way through the Arena. Eventually it even comes from the chairs!” The animals were my favorite part of the Didelian show in morfar’s stories. “Every time, every single time they perform,” morfar would say, “wild animals come from the woods and join the performance.”

Winning Story of the San Miguel Writer's Conference Without Curtains For two years, Cecilia had been planted like a tree in her apartment on the third floor at the Kerkstraat in Amsterdam. She suffered from social anxiety, which meant that she had a tremendous fear of being around people, causing uncontrollable panic attacks during which her face would become bright red, her hands would tremble, and her thoughts would falter. As a child, Cecilia worried all day at school that she would draw attention to herself, and at night, this fear kept her awake. She dragged herself through college, mostly by drinking booze, and then got a job as a young copywriter at a magazine. She never fully understood how she got through the application process. When she was asked to have an interview about a possible promotion, she snapped. She couldn’t breathe, her limbs went numb, and she bolted out of the office. From that moment, she found refuge in her apartment. It was her safe space, as the outer world felt terrifying. Groceries, Cecilia ordered online. She called her family and friends on the phone, but she wouldn’t allow them to visit. Her parents didn’t know what to do. Cecilia was a grown woman who was allowed to make her own decisions, and Cecilia made it clear that she didn’t want to leave her apartment. She said she simply couldn’t—apart from her biweekly two-minute walks to the trash cans, during which she hid in her hoodie. For money, Cecilia worked on online copywriting gigs. Her dream was to become an author, but she felt that her lack of real life-experience prevented her from writing anything interesting, as she had been hiding most of the time. In her apartment, Cecilia watched TV and online shows, read books, and worked on hobbies such as knitting hats. Mostly, she stared out of her window into the street. That’s how one day, she noticed the brightly lit studio apartment right across from hers, also located on the third floor. How come Cecilia had never noticed it before? It seemed that all of a sudden, the window of the apartment was very visible from her living room, like a brightly lit movie screen. Everything inside was crystal clear. Then Cecilia remembered that the apartment used to have curtains and had been dimly lit. Now, someone new had moved in. It was a young woman, not much older than Cecilia, who had pushed her bed right up against the window. When she lay in it, the crown of her head was clearly visible. The young woman liked to walk naked in her apartment, and Cecilia felt embarrassed to watch. She probably didn’t know that Cecilia could see her, or perhaps she just didn’t care. But it was impossible not to look. Over the next few weeks, Cecilia witnessed parties in the young woman’s apartment, and wild solo-dance sessions late at night. She saw the men she took home with her after dates, sometimes two at the same time. She watched the young woman make video calls, cook meals, and walk around with wet hair after showers. She also witnessed the more quiet moments during which the woman would read books and watch movies. Cecilia felt upset that she was able to see everything. There she was, stuck in her apartment, with no life, and across the street now lived a woman who was everything Cecilia was not. The young woman had friends, experienced joy, and lived a seemingly easy life. She left her house whenever she wanted, without a second thought, while Cecilia stayed inside biting her nails. Cecilia both admired and hated the young woman at the same time. After a few months, the woman got a boyfriend, a young man with whom she seemed perfectly at ease. They had the most shockingly eccentric sex, whenever they wanted, and anywhere. Their lean and attractive bodies constantly rubbed up against each other, and they stayed long mornings in bed making love. Cecilia couldn’t imagine ever being like that. Her most recent love interest, who she had met through Tinder, had never made it to her house, nor did she to his, since it had made her too nervous. Eventually, she ghosted him—not on purpose, but because she was overwhelmed. While Cecilia watched, the new couple across the street grew closer. They danced intimately to slow jazz music, fed each other cookies and cakes while lying on the sheets, rubbed each other's shoulders, and he even painted her toenails. They told each other funny things since they laughed a lot. In fact, they laughed more in one morning than Cecilia had laughed in an entire year. Cecilia felt frustrated. For years, that window across the street had meant nothing to her; she had barely ever noticed it, but now, it was all she could look at. She was unwillingly confronted with a life she didn’t want to be a part of, as an accidental voyeur, and she was becoming addicted to it. It felt like binging a reality show, without paying for the entertainment. She knew it was very inappropriate, but no matter how often Cecilia told herself not to stare at the window anymore, she couldn’t stop. Sometimes Cecilia thought about telling the couple she could see them so clearly. She fantasized about walking over and ringing their bell, asking them to cover themselves in their most intimate moments, but Cecilia knew she didn’t have the guts to face them. She thought about writing a note saying “I can see you!”, and taping it to the woman’s window. But that, too, felt too confrontational. A few times she tried closing her own living room curtains, but it made her room dark and small. She needed her window into the world, it was the only real connection with the outside she currently had. Cecilia decided that she had to accept the situation and learn to live with it. And so she did. She conformed to the idea of the woman across the road being there, and her partner. Their naked bodies, their eccentric sex at random hours, their dancing in the middle of the room, and their shoulder rubs simply became a part of Cecilia’s daily life. She saw the love birds as the perfect symbol of what she would never be. Another year passed during which Cecilia didn’t leave her apartment, and during which the young woman across the street didn’t buy curtains. At that point, Cecilia didn’t even want her to. Cecilia felt oddly too connected; the woman and her partner now felt like friends. Sometimes, it even felt as if their lives were what kept Cecilia going. The couple distracted her from her anxiety. They made Cecilia feel more functional. That’s why, when the apartment turned dark without warning, Cecilia felt extremely unsettled. There was no more activity behind the window. The lights stayed off at night, and during the days no one was there. Cecilia wondered if the young woman had suddenly moved without her noticing. But how was that possible? Her bed and other pieces of furniture were still there. Perhaps the couple had broken up and the young woman went on a sabbatical. Or perhaps, she had had an accident. Cecilia felt strangely abandoned by her neighbors. She had grown so attached to the couple across the street, that now she was upset that they hadn’t said goodbye. She felt more alone than ever. Without the young woman’s life to distract her, Cecilia focused fully on her social anxiety again, and it started to take up the majority of her thoughts, as it had before. Meanwhile, she convinced herself that she felt relieved that the young woman was gone. She was no longer forced to be an accidental voyeur. It was better that way. After two months of complete darkness, the lights across the street suddenly turned on. But it wasn’t as before. The studio apartment was lit at early hours, and that never happened, as the young woman never went anywhere early. But even though the room was brightly lit, Cecilia didn’t see anyone. The room remained completely empty. Periods of darkness were now interspersed with early mornings during which the lights were on, but the room remained always empty. Another two months later, on a day hot summer’s day, Cecilia unexpectedly saw a man sitting in the window. He looked up into the sky, and then down into the street. He was wearing a rather unflattering gray t-shirt that stretched tight around a small potbelly. He had hunched shoulders, and his half-long hair fell in lifeless strands along his face. Cecilia thought the man looked sad. It took one to know one. He sat there for hours looking out of the window, and over the next few days, he remained there. Cecilia couldn’t figure out who he was, or what he was doing there. Then a woman appeared in the room as well. She was standing right at the window by the bed, naked. She was bald, and her body was so skinny that she looked like a skeleton. A shock went through Cecilia’s body. She realized she was looking at the couple she knew so well, but they had completely changed. The young woman was clearly sick, and it was serious. Her eyes lay deep in her face and her cheekbones stood out sharply. She barely had breasts anymore, and her skin lay loose over each rib below. Her body looked like it was made of porcelain that could break at any moment. Cecilia guessed that the woman had gone through chemotherapy and that she was now recovering. The young woman mostly stayed in her bed. Cecilia could clearly see her bald head; it looked so much smaller than before. Her partner was mostly there with her in the apartment. He would make her food, read her books, and stroke her arm, chest, and head. The tenderness between the two deeply touched Cecilia. How could this have happened? The woman was so young. Cecilia had been watching the couple across the street for over a year, but now her focus on them became obsessive. They were the first thing she checked every morning, and the last thing she looked at before going to bed. She expected the young woman to gain weight and health, but she didn’t. If anything, she was only getting thinner. And Cecilia grew increasingly worried. She became afraid that upon waking in the morning, the woman wouldn’t be there. Her symbol of a healthy life was withering, and sometimes it felt as if Cecilia was withering with her. Six months later, a few days after Christmas, people gathered in the apartment. Cecilia panicked as she guessed that they were there to say goodbye. A young man Cecilia had never seen before paced through the house. Her brother, perhaps. Or that of her partner, as he somewhat looked like him. Then there was a young woman present who somewhat looked like her neighbor, in her healthier days. Her sister, possibly. A middle-aged lady sat next to the bed and didn’t leave, except for when she went to the bathroom. It was her mother, most likely. Tears rolled down the woman’s face, and Cecilia thought of her own mother, whom she hadn’t allowed to visit for over three years now. A lump blocked Cecilia’s throat and she cried together with the rest, unseen. She thought about her own death, and how no one would be there to say goodbye. All day, people came and went, and Cecilia sat in her living room, watching. Eventually, everyone left, except for the partner and the woman’s mother who was incessantly wiping her eyes. It was late at night. Candles were lit and both sat next to the bed. Cecilia saw a black shadow in the back of the room waiting patiently, and instantly she knew it was death, there to take the young woman. The mother climbed into the bed beside her daughter and stroked her face tenderly, while the young man stayed sitting and held his beloved’s hand. The room filled with so much affection that the shadow of death disappeared, but only temporarily. When it returned, it had grown in size. It approached the bed while Cecilia pushed her fingers into her sofa. She knew it was time and she held her breath. The shadow covered the bed, entirely, and veiled the emaciated body of the young woman with its dark cloak. The young woman’s chest went up and down one last time, and then it stopped. Cecilia exhaled. It was done. The young woman was gone. The young man laid his head on his departed partner's shoulder while her mother rested her hands on her daughter's chest. They lay there for a long time as Cecilia watched. In her memories, she could see the couple dancing through the room, happily, and having breakfast in bed. She remembered their dinner parties and their eccentric sex. She remembered their kisses, their caresses, and their joy. Now the woman was gone, and he was still there. And the mother. And Cecilia, an invisible third person at the deathbed. Cecilia watched the room for a long time, and then she went to bed, but couldn’t sleep. She saw the death scene over and over again. She felt abandoned. She didn’t get to say goodbye. All this time, she had expected the couple to fight, break up, and move on, like most people their age. But she never imagined their love story to have such a tragic end. A separation decided by illness. The next morning, Cecilia walked directly to the window. In the room, a coroner and his assistant were pulling the body of the young woman to the edge of the bed while wearing white plastic gloves. The body of the woman looked shrunken and almost transparent. She didn’t look human anymore. It was the first dead body Cecilia had ever seen and it made her shudder. In the back of the room stood the partner. He had empty eyes. Behind him, Cecilia saw the mother. She was hiding from the horrid scene. The coroner and his assistant wrapped the young woman’s body in a sheet and then zipped her into a vinyl bag. They placed her on the gurney and rolled her out of the apartment. The partner and mother followed. Cecilia thought it seemed unnatural and sterile. When the mother returned to the room, she folded the blankets and stacked them on the empty bed. Then she left. And so did the partner. Cecilia didn’t work that day, nor the next, nor the days after. She was in mourning for someone she had never met. A few days later, the partner returned to the apartment and lay in bed, alone. He was totally changed from the first time Cecilia had seen him. He no longer looked young. He looked experienced, mature—too mature for his age. When he got out of bed, he danced through the room, alone, to jazz, as they had done together. He stayed in the apartment for a few days and then disappeared. Without a warning, without a goodbye. And Cecilia stayed behind. Alone. Locked inside her apartment without anywhere to go. But something had changed inside of her. She, too, had matured through the experience. She felt that she had a duty to make something of her life. Find love, dance to jazz, have eccentric sex, and enjoy breakfast in bed. Cecilia decided that she had to start living, as it could be over at any time. And most importantly, she had to go see her parents. But first, she had to write about the young woman across the street. She couldn't talk to anyone she knew about it, but she had to get it out. And so she wrote, for days. She wrote about everything that she had seen and felt. And when she was done, she sent it to a book agent. Then she booked an appointment with a behavioral therapist and left her home for the first time in three years. It was terrifying, but Cecilia knew she had to push herself into situations that scared her. She had to. She had to learn how to live. She owed it to the young woman who no longer could. One month later, Cecilia was invited for an interview by the agent she had sent her story to. It came as a shock, and she felt terrified. For a moment, she felt tempted to lock herself up in her apartment again. But when looking at the window across the street, where a new neighbor had hung curtains, she knew it was impossible. She couldn’t stay in, not after what she had experienced. One year later, Cecilia’s novella “Without Curtains” was published; she had to present the book in front of the press. It was terrifying, but she did it. Her family and friends were all there, and so was her new partner with whom she often danced around her the living room. She dedicated the book to a woman whose name she didn’t know and whom she had never personally met, but who, by dying, had saved her life.

Chapter 10 | The Pandects | Lianne Arends A hard knock on the door wakes me from a light nap. My chaotic, short dreams revolved around the Didelians, the Arena and Deeri, the elderly lady who always stands next to the stage. She stood tall and composed, but while looking at her I felt a sadness that was beyond belief, and she spoke words I couldn’t understand. Disoriented from my nap, I sit up in my bed. Who knocked? Semi-nervous and dizzy, I walk to the door. Before I open it, I take a quick look in the mirror. I adjust my hair, slap my cheeks and jump quickly to the conclusion that there’s not a lot one can do in this situation. I open the door slightly, peek around the corner… and there he stands. The man who invited me. The greatest performer I’ve ever seen. “Fire is my favorite element,” he says, as if it explains the whole thing. “Right…” All this must be normal in the Didelian world... I’m still trying my best to act relaxed. Breathe… With swift movements Kai places my things on shelves and into drawers. He even unpacks Luna’s bag. He does everything with elegance and ease, just like Swaying Swenron. “We have been nomads for decades,” Kai says when he notices me staring. “Oh…” For a moment I’m overwhelmed with admiration. Kai is beyond beautiful. The lines in his face are smooth, his lips are full and soft and the intense radiation from his eyes is intimidating. And his hair… it’s just… so thick. Kai smiles and I notice I’m staring. Quickly I direct myself to the water that is by now boiling. Clumsily, I fill the cups and hand one to Kai. “Let’s take it with us,” Kai proposes. “I want to show you the camp.” Before I can answer he walks toward me, leans forward, and puts his forehead against mine. There he stays, breathing slowly in and out while locking his eyes with mine. I can smell his body scent: sandalwood, cedar, fire, and warmth. I see the perfect pores on his nose and the eyelashes on his eyelids. I am not sure what to do. Is this a Didelian custom? Does he do this with everyone? What about Idum? Would she like her man’s forehead on mine? Is it like the Hawaiian nose rub? Then he leans back and looks at me. “So many questions,” he says. “We’ll have to do something about that.” He turns around and walks out of the cabin. I’m speechless. I don’t even want to conceal my awkwardness anymore. I feel that I’m fully entitled to it now. Who does such a thing? I grab my winter jacket, warm boots, and woolen hat. It’s very cold for this time of the year. The weather predictions are snow, and it’s only the beginning of November. Luna, who magically slept through Kai’s entrance, now wakes with the sound of her leash. She looks ready to explore. While rushing to catch up with Kai, I still feel the tingling sensation in my body and the warmth of his forehead on mine. He’s waiting for me beside one of the bungalows. When I approach him, he takes my hand and guides me through the camp. We are walking toward the smoke that rises from the back of the little Didelian village. Kai tells me it comes from the central gathering place they call the Oblong. They use it for meals, stories, dancing, and meetings. Chapter 9 Back to Trailer Chapter 10 Flambeau River State Forest, Wisconsin October 27th 2014 A Silver Bowl and a Torch As a submissive dog that surrenders to avoid a fight, I move my eyes to the ground. “Enough!!” Kai roars. “Control your emotions, Idum! You are better than this. Jealousy is taking a hold of you. Please go! Go to Deeri and I don’t want to see you again until you have regained your senses. Don’t face Naran until you do.” Kai’s voice is deep and demanding. Idum steps back but doesn’t take her eyes off mine. “Here are the attributes you requested, Kai.” She shoves the silver bowl and torch into his hands. “Last cabinet on the right,” Kai says without looking. He’s right. The cabinet is stacked with jars of dried herbs. Meanwhile the Didelian performer circles around my bags and opens the dresser. I pull a few jars from the cupboard and try to identify the contents by sniffing them. I assess them quickly. Licorice root, fennel, mint, and something that smells like cinnamon rolls. “I’ll have that last one,” Kai says, again without looking. How does he even know which one I’m holding? I turn toward the tea and pretend to be awfully busy. I take the kettle and fill it with water, which is not easy using the fountain. “It gets easier when you learn to direct the water,” Kai says. “Oh… yes.” I blush again while I wonder what he means by that. I put the kettle into the indent on the stove with the right fit. It’s like doing a puzzle. Kai whispers a foreign word and with a loud bang, the oven explodes into a fiercely burning fire. Startled I jump back and stare at the flames. Kai turns to smile at me. “Hi.” His voice is friendly. “Hi…” Mine is insecure. His eyes, accentuated by dark eyebrows, are piercingly bright. I have the feeling that he is looking straight through me. “I thought I might introduce myself after inviting you to our home.” “OK.” “My name is Kai.” His voice is deep and breaks lightly at the end of his sentence. His posture is straight and solid, his shoulders are broad and pulled back in a relaxed manner. I realize I am standing here with the most popular man of the northern hemisphere. Women all over the world dream about him, and here he stands, right in front of me. My hands shake lightly, and I hold them behind my back. Kai smiles, indicating it’s my turn to speak. I don’t know what to say and for a moment we just stare at each other. “So… I’m happy you are here,” he finally continues when he realizes I will not open my mouth. What does he mean? He is happy I am here? Does he know me? All I did was walk into the camp and follow his cat. Is this a trap? “Me too,” I say with a tiny squeaky voice. It’s the only answer I am able to formulate. I’m awkwardly shifting my weight from one foot to the other while I try to straighten down my I-just-woke-up hairdo. I feel like an idiot. Here I am, insecure, my eyes half-closed with sleep and my brain in freak-out mode with no idea what to say or do. “Let me ask you to introduce yourself,” Kai suggests since I won’t do this freely. “Oh, yes. Sorry… I’m Naran Stalwart.” My face flushes and the statement from Unraveling Didelis that Didelians read minds makes me extra tense. Is he communicating with me now, you know, below the surface? Suddenly I feel trapped. What if he notices that I have a huge crush on him? I mean, he must know by now. “I watched Unraveling Didelis, so I already knew your name.” “I see.” “They say you can read minds.” Kai looks at me amused. “So, you do read minds!” “No, not exactly. We will discuss that later.” Kai moves around me and tries to look into the cabin. “How is the cabin? Do you enjoy it?” “Oh, yes, very much.” I’m glad the attention shifts toward the cabin. Kai continues to look entertained. “May I?” He asks, indicating he would like to enter. “Of course,” I try to be nonchalant but a tremble in my voice betrays me. I’m anything but relaxed with this world-famous mystery man walking into my house. Well, technically their house, but mine to use. “Tea?” I ask but quickly realize I have no idea how the stove works. I don’t even know if there is any tea in this kitchen. “Sure. So, other than having too little dresser space, is everything good?” Kai walks toward my bags. “May I assist with unpacking?” he asks. “Eh… OK,” I stammer. What a strange thing to ask. I’m uncomfortable with the idea of the Didelian main performer touching my chaotic rhapsody of things. Maybe handling someone’s luggage is a Didelian courtesy, since Svenron offered it as well. “I won’t stare at your undergarments,” Kai smiles. “Oh!” I blush and quickly open a few cabinets to hide my embarrassment inside. I find glasses, cups, mugs, plates, bowls, vegetables that look unfamiliar, fruits that look exotic and strange orange sticks, but no tea. When we pass the last cabin, we enter an open space, the Oblong, and in the middle a large fire burns. Seven people are gathered around a large round tub of water and are washing grains, greens, and roots. When we walk toward them, everybody looks up. For a moment, I feel really anxious. Do they know who I am and that I’ve been invited by Kai? I am afraid these people might see me as an intruder. Unless they know more than me… Even though the young woman is smaller, she looks more domineering than the other women. In her arms she is holding a large silver bowl and a torch. While she approaches, I notice a tiara, made from various hues of silver and gold, woven through her wavy blond hair of which the tips are braided and laced with white and purple feathers. Her skin is beautiful and fair and contrasts with Kai’s natural tan. The combination of her white-blond hair and pale skin give the woman an ethereal and delicate appearance, but when I look into her eyes, I see nothing of this delicacy. They are thunderous and discharge a light blue storm that travels over the field toward me. Every bit of confidence I built upon meeting the Didelians disappears with each step Idum takes in my direction. She walks gracefully as if she were drifting across the ground. The sun suddenly appears from behind a thick, dark cloud and sets the Oblong on fire. The sunrays reflect in the woman’s tiara and silver bowl and I close my eyes. When I open them again, Idum is standing right in front of me. “Hi Naran!” The woman closest to me chuckles with warm and welcoming eyes. “Hi little Luna,” another person says to the dog. Luna happily jumps up to a few people in the group. “Down Luna!” I shout at the overexcited young dog. “Sorry…. I was planning to take her to puppy training, but I got too busy, and it just didn’t happen. Luna is an unguided, uneducated, happiness projectile.” “We’ll fix that.” Kai says with a smile, probably happy to hear me speak full sentences. The people don’t look at all surprised with my presence. They are all smiling, and everyone knows my name even though I had only just introduced myself a minute ago to Kai. They must read his mind! I look at Kai and I see how he and one of the women exchange a strange glance. The people look elegant in their colored animal skins, furs, and feathers. A slender woman steps forth and introduces herself as Samila. She has a long skinny nose, large dark brown eyes, long curly hair, and an enchanting smile. Samila is having bright strings and golden ornaments braided into her hair. She gives me a warm hug and laughs. She welcomes me and is extremely friendly. Never had I expected such warm and welcoming people. The media portray Didelians as harsh, distant, and introverted. But I find nothing of that here. In the distance, from behind the lodges appears another woman. Effortlessly, she glides over the grass and approaches the group. She is smaller than the others. She is wearing a long, light blue dress and a warm white coat. I recognize her, she is the flautist from the show! It’s Idum, and according to Unraveling Didelis, Kai’s partner. Then they look at each other as if the conversation continues through their eyes. “Thank you,” he says after the silence, but now with a softer tone while he bows lightly. “We will connect later.” Idum looks visibly calmer now. She turns and walks away from our group while ignoring me. I feel uncomfortable. What just happened? Why is she angry with me? When Idum is out of sight, Kai turns to me. “Sorry, Naran. Later you might understand Idum’s intense reaction.” The other Didelians stare at each other in silence, but not for too long. When they regain their conversations and their work, all seems forgotten. I am, however, not feeling great. Kai puts an arm around me and gives me an encouraging squeeze. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to know Idum in the future, she’s a really wonderful person. Very intelligent, talented, and normally extremely empathetic. I’m sorry you had to deal with her other side. Few people have seen her like this. We need to remember that we all have this inside of us. Anger is as much a part of us as laughter. However, I don’t excuse her actions. Her anger projected at you without any previous knowledge of the situation, is not desirable and is not fair on you. Trust that you will understand more within the next days. But let’s not dwell on this now. We have important things to do.” Within the next days… I’d rather be told everything right now. I have no idea what I’m doing here, why I just received an explosive rage from Idum; everything is so vague and it’s frustrating. But I suppress my thoughts, realizing there is not much I can do. I am a guest. What I will know will be decided for me. Kai smiles at me. “Patience, young woman,” he laughs. “I know the mind can be a trap. Yearning for information can be torturous. But you have to trust the process, and you’ll have to trust me.” He turns around. “Now it is time for you to explore your new territory,” he says while he walks away with the silver bowl and the torch in his hands. He moves in the direction of the large Arena without looking back. “Meet me at the Arena right before dark.” “Welcome.” She smiles broadly but her voice is ice cold. With her blue dress, her ghostly white look, and the dark clouds in the background, she looks like an intoxicating and hostile ice queen of exceptional beauty. I am speechless. Everything about her is contradictory, her soft beauty and her cold voice, her small slender figure, and her dominant pose. “Thank you,” I answer. My voice trembles lightly and I feel small in her presence, even though I am taller. Kai quickly steps in between us. His mood has changed, and he looks piercingly at Idum. Their eyes speak unspoken words and I can only imagine what the messages are. Then Kai speaks up: “Idum, you know Naran is here upon our request. She is family now. You will treat her as such, I will see to it.” I’m surprised to hear these words. “Naran will have enough to deal with, her journey is unexpected, and we do not have to make it any harder than it is.” The young woman takes a small step back. I can feel an almost unbearable tension between the two. I feel warm inside; Kai is standing up for me. Thankful, I look in his direction, which seems to ignite another spark of Idum’s anger. “Naran, do not fool yourself!” Her words are clothed in fire. “Whatever people here will tell you, they are only speculating. They don’t know you. The truth is, you are no different from the world you were born in. You grew up with them. You are a copy of them, and your entire presence is as destructive as your world. I do not doubt we will get to know each other, and I will make you see how lost your case is.”

Chapter 3 | The Pandects | Lianne Arends I live in a small apartment in Uptown Minneapolis. The apartment is in a large townhouse that accommodates six medium-sized apartments for couples or singles. I live with my young dog Luna. I guess I consider myself a couple. Luna means moon in Spanish. But she is as far from being a moon as I am from being a queen from a far-away paradise. Luna is not white, serene, and dreamy. She’s hazelnut, wild, and very alive when she wants to be. She is a Goldendoodle, but she looks like the product of a romance between a teddy bear and a Muppet. M y name is Naran Stalwart. Naran is an unusual name, I know. It is not specific to any nationality or culture. My grandfather, morfar, which means grandfather in Swedish, invented it. He said it was a name out of the sky reminding him of a majestic queen from a far-away paradise. Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Minneapolis, Minnesota October 26th 2014 Naran I get a lot of questions about my nationality. It could be the name Naran. Or maybe, my accent sparks curiosity in people. Personally, I don’t consider my accent to be very noticeable. When I was younger, I answered the questions about my whereabouts truthfully. “I was born in Sweden and moved to the USA when I was thirteen.” This answer became monotonous. Now, I mostly opt for an outlandish location such as Tuvalu, Kyrgyzstan, Djibouti or Liechtenstein. Most people react awkwardly when they get this unexpected answer, probably because they have no idea where any of these countries are. They nod and look down, which often means the end of their curiosity. But not yesterday. I told a smart looking man in a business suit I lived in Liechtenstein. He instantly started speaking German. It turned out he was actually from there and asked if I knew his family. What are the chances? So, I was the one to stare down and embarrassedly admitted that I had lied. The man was not offended. “You see,” he said, “in Liechtenstein there’s a fair chance people know each other. The country only has 36,000 inhabitants.” I said it was amazing that the world had so few Liechtensteinians. He said they were Liechtensteiners, not Liechtensteinians. I was relieved to learn that Liechtensteiners are nice people, and I decided not to use Liechtenstein again. Currently, I work in Minneapolis as a biochemist. My last project just ended, and I have three months before I start at Razk Pharmaceuticals. I planned to have some time for myself during these months, but the plans have changed. I broke the Didelian law, and the consequences are unexpected.

Chapter 6 | The Pandects | Lianne Arends One thing I notice is that all the corners in the house are rounded and because of the curves everywhere, it looks alive. In the left corner there’s a small kitchenette. The countertop is made of mother of pearl and it drops seamlessly into the shape of a sink; no metal is used for the basin and a tap is entirely absent. Instead, a small fountain lies in the middle of the sink. I walk toward it and instantly the fountain starts spewing, ready for me to drink. Strange… I didn’t turn it on. With my nails, I tap on the counter to test the hardness of the pearl since I know this to be a delicate material. The top feels as hard as granite but is less cold. Next to the sink stands a stove with three round indentations on the top. Above the stove, several round pots hang on the wall and I slide my fingers over each one. The indentations on the stove fit the sizes of the pots like a puzzle. Inside the stove, a small fire burns but I see neither logs nor a gas line. Above the sink hangs a little wheel filled with fresh herbs, and right below dangle two clay cups. The cabinets are made of a dark polished wood and are smoothly carved into crafty shapes. A charming wooden dinner table and two chairs complete the kitchen. The Didelian campgrounds look very different by daylight, and I hardly recognize the location. The Arena stands on the edge of a humongous field and borders the Flambeau Forest. The building is breathtakingly beautiful and now I can really see what material it is made of and what the dimensions are. The structure takes up the space of a large football stadium. On Unraveling Didelis I heard it accommodates around 50,000 visitors. Everybody I know watches the television program Unraveling Didelis on the Discovery Channel. During this program, various experts from a range of disciplines try to debunk the Didelian mysteries by using the knowledge of physics, chemistry, and mathematics. Illusionists help out with the tricks that remain unsolved by the team. No one can confirm the theories of Unraveling Didelis, but the experts sound pretty convinced themselves. This is the sixth year of the show and it is still the most popular TV program of the moment. Today, I will probably be able test some of the theories myself, which is a bizarre realization. The large stone building is an interesting combination of a Roman Arena and a Rococo Cathedral all the while maintaining a surprisingly modern, yet majestic, appearance. The dominantly used stone is light beige and looks smooth; it almost looks as if it shimmers in the sunlight. All parts of the Arena are individually decorated with special stone carvings, statues, and mosaics. Every ornament is uniquely designed, and everything together forms a uniform art piece. The window frames are made of colorful tiles combined with translucent gems. From the top ridge of the Arena, large creatures that vaguely resemble the gargoyles of the Notre Dame, look down on us. Their large examining eyes, long sharp ears and chaotic wild manes that wrap as flames around their heads, give them a playful, demonic look. Different colors of light shine from the large lancet arches that go around the Arena. Three small towers in different heights give the building a dazzling medieval touch. The towers are heavily decorated with colorful rocks and all have a polished roof made of pearl-like material. Unraveling Didelis states the towers are used by the important Didelians who watch their own spectacles from up there. “Do the Didelians watch the show from those towers?” It is my first question and I surprise myself by it. Swaying Swenron looks up. “Ah no, those towers have ceremonial purposes.” “Oh.” He’s being completely honest. I never expected the Didelians to give away information so easily. Ceremonial purposes… I discovered Unraveling Didelis’ first error. The sky behind the Arena has a dark grey shade and with the low temperatures this week I think we can expect snow, though it’s early for this time of year. Birds circle over the Arena as if to check whether there will be a hiding place for them to avoid the snow. Chapter 5 Chapter 7 Chapter 6 Flambeau River State Forest, Wisconsin October 27th 2014 Mine In the back of the cabin, a large oval bed is half hidden between two bulky green trees that grow opposite each other. These humongous living tree-trunks make an unexpected bed frame. From the closest branches a white silk curtain with bright golden stars drapes down and separates the bed area from the rest of the house. I walk toward the bed and move the curtain. The sheets have the same pearl color as the countertop and shimmer brightly. On top lies a spread of white furry animal skin. The mattress fits perfectly between the two tree trunks. It looks as if they grew around it, and perhaps they did… It’s the most remarkable thing, that being inside doesn’t seem to harm the growth of these trees in the slightest; they are blossoming and there are no dead leaves visible on the bed. It’s all magical. Looking to the left I inspect the cabins, which seem larger than I remember. They’re built with dark wood and have small windows all around. The entrances are adorned with a beautiful overhang adorned with magical wooden carvings from which the lanterns are suspended. These lanterns, all in different colors, sway back and forth in the wind of this wintery autumn day. From every lodge, a small trail of smoke escapes through a little chimney. The bungalows have wheels and drive from location to location. They are known to navigate flawlessly and yet, no drivers have been spotted, which has caused a lot of speculation in our world. They drive at about 25 miles an hour and are estimated to carry up to 60,000 pounds. The cabin-vehicles can’t possibly carry the entire weight of the stone Arena; therefore, no one knows how they move it between locations. This is just one of the unresolved Didelian enigmas for which even the Discovery Channel doesn’t have an answer. It’s strange to know all these meticulous facts about the Didelians just by watching a TV show. I hope to learn more about the Didelian mysteries that have kept the viewers speculating for decades. Perhaps I will discover what gives the Didelians their powers… A small tingle of pride runs through my spine. Here I am, the first westerner ever to be included in this group of extraordinary beings… A dresser with a large mirror braided between branches stands next to the bed. Instead of seeing myself in the mirror, it reflects the forest outside. It’s the only space for clothes in the house. I look from my bags to the dresser, back to the bags. I guess the Didelians do not have many belongings. Luckily, the books I brought will have a designated location. At the end of the bed, a few branches of the tree have grown into a perfect shelf. Finding a location for my favorite silk scarf my mother gifted me on my 18th birthday, has priority over everything. I take it with me everywhere I go. I now carefully hang it on the branches, so it forms a little curtain behind the pillows. It matches perfectly. The cabin makes me laugh. It’s almost modern looking but with a dominant touch of Didelian. I look in Swenron’s direction. If it is true Didelians that can read minds, I have to be careful. My thoughts might sound like those of an overwhelmed groupie. Swaying Swenron is now walking with my luggage and doesn’t seem to notice my loud mental adoration of the camp. He walks past me, winks, and carries my bags toward the bungalows with visible ease. I stop my thoughts. The truth is, I don’t know why I am here and what the intentions of the Didelians are. Luckily, Swaying Swenron has been very friendly. Will it stay this way? I have three months to find out, and three months is a long time. From behind the cottages, grey smoke rises and the entire camp smells of burning wood. Combined with the freezing air, the thick bulky clothes I wear, and the sight of wooden lodges, my winter-feel is complete. I look at Swaying Swenron and wait for instructions. He smiles and points toward a cabin on my right. “Yours,” he says. Mine? It is hard to imagine having my own cabin. Yet, there it is, in the outer ring of houses. The door stands wide open and Swenron disappears inside. He reappears without my bags. It’s definitely mine. “Rest a bit, Naran. This afternoon someone will come for you.” After delivering this message, Swenron pats me lightly on my shoulder and walks off. “Thanks,” I say softly. I wish I could act with more enthusiasm but I’m still processing the entire situation. Stupefied, I stare at the bungalow with my belongings inside. It’s so beautiful, so… Didelian. I’ve heard, read and seen so much about these homes. No non-Didelian has ever been inside. Now I have my own! I give a little jump of excitement and then guide Luna into the Didelian house that has been prepared for us. If the Didelians are trying to punish me for trespassing, they have an interesting way of doing so. Inside, the cabin is minimally furnished. I take my jacket off while Luna does a thorough study of her new home. She sniffs every corner, licks the floor here and there, bites some fabrics and makes sure she doesn’t leave a single crevasse unheeded. Traveling isn’t new to me. In the past I moved to several different locations for projects. I graduated with honors from The Biochemistry Program at the University of Minnesota and ever since, my career has taken off. I’m good with math and formulas and graduated young with exceptional grades. Since then, I have participated in several high-profile projects for large pharmaceutical companies. My references state I’m ‘inventive and have a refreshing way of reasoning’. Even though I’m not sure I deserve this, I have become a desired lab employee. After having worked on projects in big cities in Europe, Asia and throughout the USA, I decided to settle down with Luna in Minneapolis, close to my parents. Ever since, I have been doing what I like the most: being a couch potato, reading books after work and staying at home with the dog. While I unpack my bags, I become slightly nostalgic. I realize I’ve missed moving around. But today I am more nervous than I have ever been. I’m about to immerse in a completely new culture. I guess I have no clue what to do to ‘blend in’. At least when traveling for work, I was able to do research on the various cultures I moved into. Here it’s slightly different. I’ve gotten all my knowledge from magazines and television. In fact, I know very little about the people I’m going to meet. Luna seems to have no trouble accepting her new home; she is rolling on the soft pelt in front of the fireplace and rubs her belly into the fuzz. I decide to follow her example and to take Swaying Swenron’s advice to take a nap. Going to new locations with new people demands energy; I’d better have some. While sinking into my soft pearl sheets, I once more realize how blessed I am. This time I can’t thank my degree in school nor my work experience for the opportunity. Drowsy, I think about how Psyrah got our tickets.

Chapter 5 | The Pandects | Lianne Arends Five to six. Instead of standing patiently in front of my building waiting for my ride, I am kneeling next to a bag that doesn’t want to close because its content is three times the size it should be. Yesterday, I had scrupulously gone through my wardrobe and chosen appropriate clothes and shoes for all possible weather. My idea of traveling light and fashionably had turned into me dragging three non-matching bags and a dog bed from my apartment building. Traveling somehow never comes easy to me. I t is hard for me to fall asleep. I find myself twisting and turning until I slowly drift off into a light slumber. My thoughts weave through dream-like visions and when I wake up, I feel exhausted. Frustration rages through my veins. Why can’t I control my nerves any better? I feel like a child the night before a birthday! When I look out the window it’s still dark. I turn around and see the digital numbers on my alarm. Four o’clock. I will be picked up at 6. One more hour of sleep, at least. I turn again and make a vain attempt to doze off, but I know it’s pointless. My brain is awake, my body is restless and it’s better to get up and eat an early breakfast. Chapter 4 Chapter 6 Chapter 5 Minneapolis, Minnesota October 27th 2014 The Ride “So… this is Naran,” he says with an amused tone in his voice. The Didelians know my name. And my address. But how? I’m too shy to ask. “We are very happy to have you with us, Naran. Please take a seat in the car and let me take care of your luggage.” “Oh… thank you,” I answer and push the last things into my bulging bag. I hide my blushing cheeks by staring toward the ground. The Didelian man picks up the dog bed and three bags at once and lifts them into the large white jeep. Once we’re on our way, the man introduces himself as Swenron. I only nod. I don’t know what to say, nor do I ask him anything. Now that sadness and timidness are distinguished, Swenron seems to understand that I need some time to warm up. In silence, I stare out of the window into the streets of Minneapolis while my mind is revolving in nervous circles. We turn on to I-35W North. The Didelian performance Arena is set up in the Flambeau River State Forest in Wisconsin, which is a 3.5-hour drive. The man turns on the radio. Nobody knows where the Didelians are originally from. They have traveled the world with their spectacle for decades. It started in Florida in 1970, when a gigantic stone Arena appeared out of nowhere in a grass field during a full moon night. Curious passers-by were invited to see a spectacle so magical, that stories about it instantly spread all over the world. Ever since, the Arena and the camp stay for three successive full moon nights in the same location, after which the Didelians travel on, in a long caravan of rolling wooden houses, to a new destination. Nobody understands how the Arena can vanish so quickly and appear again the following show night. It is a mystery how the gigantic stone Arena is set up and taken down. It comes and goes, just as the Didelians. Upon leaving, Luna almost pulls me face down the concrete stairs of the apartment building and I quickly grab the banister. In the process, I let go of two bags that roll down over a highly surprised dog that now hurries down even faster. One bag opens in the staircase. Underwear and socks fly in all directions. Horrified, I look down. While I’m kneeling at the bottom of the stairs to retrieve my items, I hear a car approaching in the distance. I glare at Luna whom I hold responsible for this mess. When the car arrives at my house, it pulls over and a man steps out. “Hi,” a happy and warm voice greets me while I am still immersed in my messy exodus. “Hi…” I look up and try to smile politely. Apologetically, I glance at my clothes that are spread all over the pavement. To make things worse, Luna is running around with a bra and jumps happily up to the stranger. He has long, braided, red hair, which falls all the way to his waist. His skin is pale, and he is covered with freckles. With these features I expect him to have light blue eyes but when I look more closely, they are dark brown. His clothing is unmistakably Didelian; it is colorful, decorated with beads and made of rough leather, suede, and wool. It doesn’t look anything like the clothes I’m used to. The soft shoes he wears have fur linings. His winter jacket has a large hood with bright yellow colors that give this man a joyful and lively glow in the early morning. The man smiles broadly, pets Luna and crouches down to give me a hug. “Borrowed,” he says while looking at the car. “Nice,” I say timidly. I take Luna and push her impatiently into the backseat while I jump in the front. The man’s movements are smooth and elegant. When he sits down in the driver seat, he looks at me and I stare at my hands. His disarming smile and friendly eyes make me feel less nervous but still I can’t believe what’s happening. I get to spend three months with the most mysterious and desired group of people on this earth… Part of me questions whether I am a victim of a well-organized prank, or if they are going to lock me up for trespassing. When the man scrutinizes my face, his expression suddenly changes. “You’re disappointed,” he says with a voice that shifts into a sad minor chord. “You expected something fancy, something typically Didelian. A flying car of some sort perhaps.” I look at the man, puzzled. “You’re sad,” he adds. “Oh, no. I’m not sad, or disappointed. This is my shy face.” “Ah!” he sounds relieved. “You’re shy, not sad. Good.” I laugh. “Didelians are not often shy,” he explains. “Sad, yes.” “I see,” I nod while he starts the car. This is going to be an interesting ride. Swenron drives fast; we pass endless green meadows, lengthy forests, and numerous lakes to which Minnesota owes its name ‘Land of Ten Thousand Lakes’. I’m quite happy to leave the city behind. Even though there are beautiful parks and beaches in Minneapolis, the state capital, its downtown is always flooded with traffic, honking horns, and fumes. I look at Swenron from the corner of my eye. The Didelians are generally taller than the average person, have thicker hair and fair skin of which is said resembles silk. When paying attention to their looks, they could easily be mistaken for Nordics. Their behavior is as mystical as their looks. Didelians are thought to have ‘supernatural’ qualities. They are known to defy gravity and have even been seen flying. They also communicate differently than we do. Rumors say Didelians talk directly through the mind instead of using spoken words. It is said that they can go for days without using their voice. But their shows are what distinguishes them the most. Their shows are outright mesmerizing. Many claim their shows are an optical illusion, while others say they are magicians with special powers. Didelians never speak about their origin, nor have they ever answered any questions. Scientists haven’t been able to do DNA research to find their genetic roots. What we do know, is based upon our own assumptions. Almost two months ago, on the 10th of August, the Didelians arrived at the Flambeau River State Forest in Wisconsin, right on the state border of Minnesota, where they will stay at least until the full moon of November the 10th. The Didelians are extremely private. From the moment it is set up in a new location, the camp is closed off from visitors. But today I am joining them, and I will stay with them when they depart to their next location. I do not know where we will go. Nobody does. Never before in history have the Didelians invited someone to travel with them. It’s an unusual punishment for my trespassing. Maybe they’ll have me clean stables and carriages without any breaks. But it is better than jail, I suppose. Swenron breaks the silence when he decides to share a personal story. I’m guessing it’s an attempt to ease into conversation. “Once,” he says, “I had the hiccups for a year.” He smiles and scrutinizes my face to see how I respond. I hesitantly smile back. “I couldn’t stop, no matter how hard I tried,” he continues. “Not even Gaoul tea helped. You don’t know what Gaoul tea is, of course, but you’ll find out soon. It’s delicious. My hiccups were so bad that I couldn’t even hold my cup straight. I went to everyone I could find for advice, including Deeri, whom you’ll meet. She said it was a test; I had to learn to live with imbalance in my life. Well… it wasn’t a figure of speech. I was as imbalanced as I could be.” The strange story makes me giggle and Swenron continues. “You see, Naran, dear old Deeri finds purpose in everything.” “It must have been difficult for you,” I say softly. “It was hardest on my wife. The hiccups continued at night too. After a few months, I discovered a pattern. The time between hiccups was as following: short, short, long, very long, short, long. Once I cracked the code, I learned how to move with the hiccups so that my liquids wouldn’t spill anymore.” Swenron laughs. “I started swaying with my hiccups. People thought I was dancing. They started to call me ‘Swaying Swenron’. The hiccups passed years ago but they still call me by that name. And so can you.” I laugh. This man is quite strange. While Swaying Swenron concludes his story we take a right turn onto a dirt road and I recognize the location. In the distance I see a dark forest and behind it, a large building towers into the sky. I get goose bumps looking at it. It is the Arena.

Chapter 4 | The Pandects | Lianne Arends He inspects me from top to bottom. “Be ready on Monday,” he says. “You will pack a bag. Bring enough clothes for three months. We will pick you up at your house. Prepare for extreme cold but also for milder weather. Do not speak with a single soul about this or the consequences will be severe. And I mean nobody, not even family or best friends. Use this as an excuse: You booked a trip. You are going to a retreat center in Hawaii for three months and phones are not allowed. Practice the story; it has to sound credible." I don’t fully understand what is going on. “You… are picking me up? Why? As a punishment?” I’m very confused. “We are inviting you. You will stay with us for three months.” I fall silent. I am invited? To stay with the Didelians? Three months?“ Any questions?” He asks while he squints his eyes. “Eh… I have a job. It starts in February.” “We will make sure you get back in time.” “And my dog?” “Bring her. I’m sure your dog and my Monstry will get along fine.” T he white cat meows while it stares at me. We are all standing completely still. A few newspaper headlines flash through my head: Chapter 3 Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Flambeau River State Forest, Wisconsin October 24th 2014 An Unexpected Conversation Reports like this are common. Governments worldwide are helping the Didelians to protect their privacy, and jail sentences are therefore not unusual. The Didelian mystery will not be unraveled, ever, but people keep trying. The severity of my situation slowly dawns on me and dark pessimism holds me in its grasp. My fear increases every second. I did something very irrational and very dangerous. Perhaps the next newspaper headline will be about me… The eyes of the main performer of the show are on me and he doesn’t blink. It feels as if he’s gazing straight through me. I get the feeling that he knows my fears and insecurities, and this makes me feel naked and uncomfortable. The white cat drapes itself around the man’s feet and he picks it up. Neither of them lets go of my eyes for even a second. He massages the cat and the animal purrs softly with satisfaction. I give the cat a dirty glare as if to say: Traitor! You lured me into this! In response, the animal hisses. Other than this staring contest, nothing happens. Hesitantly I look at the man. He shows no sign of interaction. There are no smiles, no frowns, no words and not even hand gestures. What is going on? We silently face each other for what feels like forever. I turn from an awkward smile to an insecure grin and end with a question mark. My mind is overshadowed with continuous internal turmoil. Perhaps I should run, I might be able to still get away with this… Slowly, I turn, but before I can move away, the man speaks again. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says. His voice is deep and his tone is neither inviting nor hostile. “I know…” I say timidly. “I have no idea why I followed your cat.” Reporter for ‘Times Magazine’ fired after approaching Didelian Texas citizen 3 months jail for walking into Didelian camp Emigrant deported from the USA after trespassing Didelian premises The man now sounds mildly entertained and I imagine seeing a faint hint of amusement in his cat’s eyes. Are they playing a game with me? “Monday morning, at six o’clock, stand in front of your house. Be ready, Didelians don’t wait.” With these words the main performer turns around and disappears between the shadows of the cabins. For a moment I stand in utter confusion. Is this really happening? Am I intoxicated? Brainwashed? Hallucinating? Then I realize I’m standing in the Didelian camp, a place where I do not want to be seen by anyone else. Quickly I turn around and sprint as fast as I can toward the line of people. When I arrive, I jump right in the middle and pretend nothing has happened. I see a few intrigued faces around me. I never stepped out of this line. I did not speak to the leading performer of the show. He definitely did not invite me. While repeating this mantra in my head, I make my way toward the car.

“Naran has arrived. I feel her company. I feel her bewilderment, her introversion, and her fear. She does not comprehend why she has landed in the land of the Didelians. She is afraid to ask.” “I feel how she partially still has the spirit of a child. I feel her infinite inquisitiveness, her restlessness, her impatience, and most of all… I feel her self-doubt. I can picture the manner in which she carries herself. She hunches her shoulders and in public places she bends her head down to deflect attention. She moves in a restless manner, as if anything and anyone can attack her at any time. She is like a scared animal. She is so similar to the rest… some hide it better than others, but they are all afraid.” “To Naran, all her surroundings are a potential threat and judgment of her being. Her world exists in the form of competition and repercussion. Because of her anxiety she doesn’t see the hands reaching out to her, she doesn’t see the others like her, wanting to connect, letting her know they are feeling equally alone. I feel how she hurts. She feels separated from everything and everybody around her. She feels powerless. I can feel her fear, insecurity and disbelief, it is like a whirlwind; I can sense her all the way on the other end of the meadow.” “It’s not Naran’s fault. She took the likeness of the world she dwells in. It’s all she knows. I had hoped her genes would have made her more resistant, like Idum. But I underestimated the influence of her culture. We will have to guide her; she has little time. I am curious how she will develop.” “Kai, my beautiful warrior of the heart, child of Sinah and Drahu, who I loved greatly. It was you who discovered Naran. This means you are the chosen Kataa, the chosen teacher. I doubted it before, but the elders have been right again. Kai is the only one who can initiate the woman in her. He will provide the space and security in which she can start to understand herself. Kai has the magic of a white wizard, the wisdom of an elder, the sight of an augur, and the strength of a lion, but he’s also hardened. While his courage runs deep, Kai’s weakness is his wounded heart. Through vulnerability, he can transform this into strength. May his journey with Naran break the walls around both their hearts.” “It will be hard for Idum. Idum, hear my voice, my dear child and beautiful woman. Idum the brave. I am proud of who you are, and so are your grandmother and mother, with whom I speak often. Your dear mother never ceases to send her support, but I’m not sure you can feel her. You doubt yourself, you feel abandoned. More strength will be required, my brave sister. Let your intuition guide you, and never doubt who you are, even while the entire world does. The human blood running through your veins hasn’t clouded you. It has, however, made you capricious. Now that Kai’s fate has been set, it means sorrow for you. Remember the classes, remember the razor’s edge and the gambles we all have to take. Losing balance can happen with the nimblest puff when the mind is distracted by pain. I can’t protect you, it’s beyond me now. I’ve supported you where I felt capable. I hope you will stay strong and reasonable, the way we know you. Your fate is tied to Naran’s evolvement and hers is tied to Kai’s guidance. You are all equally important.” “I sense Naran’s feelings for Kai. It is still superficial, but the fire has ignited. The process has started, the Pulse is beating stronger than ever before. I feel the wisdom Naran carries inside. Her womanhood is waiting to be discovered and honored. I can see the growth she will go through. It will happen faster than she is ready for, it will happen faster than is good for her. But we have no other choice. We only have a few months, it is difficult, but it can be done.” “The future will reveal if my years of preparation have been enough. May all our strength surface in this time and may all the souls surrounding us, visible and non-visible, step up and safeguard our path. The cards have been laid; it is time. The initiation of the Pandects has started.” Chapter 7 Chapter 9 Chapter 8 Flambeau River State Forest, Wisconsin October 27th 2014 Deeri Speaks

"Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam, eaque ipsa quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt. Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem. Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum exercitationem ullam corporis suscipit laboriosam, nisi ut aliquid ex ea commodi consequatur? Quis autem vel eum iure reprehenderit qui in ea voluptate velit esse quam nihil molestiae consequatur, vel illum qui dolorem eum fugiat quo voluptas nulla pariatur?"Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum "Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam, eaque ipsa quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt. Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem. Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum exercitationem ullam corporis suscipit laboriosam, nisi ut aliquid ex ea commodi consequatur? Quis autem vel eum iure reprehenderit qui in ea voluptate velit esse quam nihil molestiae consequatur, vel illum qui dolorem eum fugiat quo voluptas nulla pariatur?"Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum Chapter X Chapter X Chapter X Place, Place Month xth year Title "Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam, eaque ipsa quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt. Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem. Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum exercitationem ullam corporis suscipit laboriosam, nisi ut aliquid ex ea commodi consequatur? Quis autem vel eum iure reprehenderit qui in ea voluptate velit esse quam nihil molestiae consequatur, vel illum qui dolorem eum fugiat quo voluptas nulla pariatur?"Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum "Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam, eaque ipsa quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt. Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem. Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum exercitationem ullam corporis suscipit laboriosam, nisi ut aliquid ex ea commodi consequatur? Quis autem vel eum iure reprehenderit qui in ea voluptate velit esse quam nihil molestiae consequatur, vel illum qui dolorem eum fugiat quo voluptas nulla pariatur?"Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum "Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam, eaque ipsa quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt. Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem. Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum exercitationem ullam corporis suscipit laboriosam, nisi ut aliquid ex ea commodi consequatur? Quis autem vel eum iure reprehenderit qui in ea voluptate velit esse quam nihil molestiae consequatur, vel illum qui dolorem eum fugiat quo voluptas nulla pariatur?"Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum

Chapter 1 The Pandects Rakkisa’s lips curl into a fragile smile and she nods with the lightest movement. Her glare turns into a serene look and she relaxes all her muscles. “I love you,” she whispers and then sighs deeply. After her last breath leaves her lungs and passes her lips, Rakkisa’s entire body remains still. “No… no, no, NOO!!! A crying Matthias covers Rakkisa’s face with kisses and he rests his nose on the dead woman’s forehead. “Don’t leave us, Rakkisa… We can’t be without you. We love you so much. We need you!!” The woman’s eyes are open, but they no longer register any signals of this world. She has passed. Matthias cries uncontrollably and he lifts Rakkisa into a sitting position. He cradles her body, caresses her hair, kisses her face, and murmurs her name incessantly. Her body is heavy and her arms, the very same arms that used to embrace him, now dangle lifelessly next to her body. While holding Rakkisa, Matthias has no perception of time. Seconds, minutes, or hours pass. He’s numb and everything around him is a colorless blur. It feels like someone pulled his heart out of his chest. A gaping hole that will never be able to be filled, remains. All night long, Rakkisa has been vomiting blood and it’s a wonder she’s made it until the morning. Once the Red-Cough, as they started to call it, is caught, one dies within five to six hours. Yesterday at sundown, Rakkisa started coughing, and now, nine hours later, she’s still holding on to the thin lines of her life. Her love for Gailin keeps her fighting. Amongst the sadness and confusion, Matthias feels fury. He curses this horrible disease that has already killed millions of Didelians in only a matter of weeks. Matthias suspects it was created in a European or American laboratory. He deeply despises every Westerner he knows, including himself. The reality feels horribly unfair to Matthias since there’s absolutely nothing he can do. He wants to go with her. He wants to die today and enter the afterlife together. Whatever it will look like, it will be better than the hell he’s going through now. But Matthias knows that even if he wanted to die from the Red Cough, he probably can’t. Only the Didelians die. He was injected with the vaccine for tuberculosis, and he suspects that this makes him immune to the disease. Deep inside, Matthias knows his death wish is selfish. He is Gailin’s only hope. She is still in good health, and he has to get her out of the camp as fast as he can. Little Gailin… so helpless, so precious. He can’t give up, for her sake. Never did Matthias think he could love as intensely as he learned to over the past three years. Rakkisa. Their child Gailin. He would do anything for them. Now Rakkisa is being taken away. And why? Because of the selfishness and ignorance of his people! Matthias lifts his head and screams in helpless agony.
“Aaahhh!!!”
Through his tears, he sees how Rakkisa turns her head and looks at him. Her bloodshot eyes are surprisingly clear, calm, and loving. He knows she doesn’t fear death. None of the Didelians do. Matthias does. And most of all… he fears life without Rakkisa.
Rakkisa struggles to keep her breath going. It is heartbreaking to witness. She postpones the moment of death while knowing the end is inevitable. She fights with time over love. And now the frequency of Rakkisa’s respiration noticeably decreases. Instantly, the agony Matthias has felt transforms into panic.
“Don’t leave me, my dearest!!” But Rakkisa’s breath slows down even more. She opens her mouth and tries to speak but her words are nothing more than a whisper. Matthias lowers his head toward her face and his tears mingle with the perspiration on her forehead.“Please Matthias… protect Gailin,” Rakkisa whispers. Her voice is so thin that it might be easily mistaken for the rustling of the wind through the trees. “Make sure… Ugh… nothing happens to her or you… Ugh…” The coughing makes Rakkisa pause, and she presses a tissue, stained with blood, against her lips.“You… can ensure Gailin a good life. Take her with you to your land. Do not show her to… anybody while you travel. Please Matthias, protect her…” A tear rolls from the corner of Rakkisa’s eye.Matthias nods, though he’s not sure how he will fulfill this promise. But he doesn’t show his hesitation to the dying mother. He will find a way.“I promise...” he whispers. Trailer Chapter 2 Chapter 1 Didelis December 4th 1948 Matthias Brolin Outside, he strips off his clothes and takes a cold shower next to the house. With a big stiff bristle brush and disinfecting plant oil, he scrubs his skin, from head to toes, until it almost bleeds. The pain from the scrubbing distracts him from feeling his heart. Then he drips a few drops of the oil under his tongue. His army uniform lies folded next to the shower. He hasn’t worn it since the day he met Rakkisa. Putting on this uniform makes him feel nauseous. The uniform means bloodshed and pain. Thanks to the military he has lost Rakkisa and all the others. But he has no choice now. He needs to return to where he came from. There is no future on the island anymore. They made sure of it. They won. Matthias would rather go north with Deeri and the others, but Deeri has denied him his desire to leave with them. Matthias doesn’t stand a chance in the North Pole. They will not warm the air in the Didelian boats out of fear of thermal detectors. He doesn’t have the gifts of the Didelians. And Gailin is still much too young to tap into her gift of regulating her body temperature. Thus, Deeri gave him different instructions: “Move Gailin as far away from here as you can. Get her on a military boat. Go home, and never speak of her real heritage.” M atthias looks at Rakkisa and hardly recognizes her. Her only recently curly and shiny red hair now hangs in lifeless strings around her ashen face. Her half-closed eyes are surrounded by dark circles and the blue of her irises has transformed into a flat grey. The vibrant woman he knows as Rakkisa has disappeared entirely, and Matthias knows it won’t be much longer before her chest stops moving. While he holds her hands, he lowers his face toward her body. Warm tears roll down his cheeks and land on Rakkisa’s silk dress. He squeezes her hands and begs her to stay. He can’t imagine their young baby Gailin without her mother. Gailin hasn’t even had the chance to see how incredible her mother is. The three years Rakkisa and Matthias spent together are so minute compared to the lifetime he will have to live without his divine love. The sound of a gong ringing in the distance releases Matthias from his trance of sorrow. When he returns to his senses, he feels dried tears on his face that pull on the skin. The lack of light through the windows tells him it’s late in the evening. Outside he hears movement and realizes he needs to get Gailin immediately. She is with the uninfected on the other side of the village. The people who remain healthy will depart soon. With his body and soul in pain, Matthias closes Rakkisa’s eyes. His suffering intensifies when he realizes that the house they inhabited for the last six months, will be her eternal tomb. When Matthias arrives at the dwellings where the healthy people hide, he enters a small living structure. A few women are preparing the departure and he sees Gailin sleeping in the arms of Rakkisa’s sister. When she notices him coming, she passes his daughter into his arms. While he takes his little girl, he nods to her in silence, and the woman’s eyes fill with tears. Her sister has passed. The baby awakens and whimpers. She feels she has just lost her mother. Rakkisa’s sister wraps a clean silk shawl around Matthias and tightens the baby to his chest. Then she folds herself around the father and child and they sway back and forth until they are ready to let go. The teared-up woman packs a few nut milk bottles in a backpack and adds some valuable stones that will help Matthias buy his way back. She hands the bag over and they say goodbye without words. With a stabbing pain in his heart, Matthias walks out of the house and into the forest. He does not look back.