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walk around anywhere without seeing a lot of people you had seen before. It was
a quiet place; not a lot went on there, mostly, but there was plenty to do, I
thought. I went to church. I played& different sports with my friends. Especially
my best friend.
It-it sounds& wonderful, Gwen said, wondering if the emotion she felt
came through in her voice. He did remember Frederick. And John! Could the
mages have omitted only certain details? She wanted to ask about herself, but
wasn t sure how to&
And there was a girl, he went on, as if in response to her wish. He
appeared to grow sad, wistful, happy, all at once. I met her when I was just a
kid. But I knew that there was something there even then, that we would& that
she would mean something to me forever& Well, I hoped anyway& He paused,
chuckled at himself and looked at her. I m sorry, I m rambling again. You don t
want to hear about this from a perfect stranger.
Gwen looked hard at the paving stones below the wall, hiding her
expression, the tears that threatened to spill over. No. It s very& romantic.
Please go on. At least tell me what happened to her, to the girl.
She& she died& Kristopher told her, and found it necessary to hide his
own tears. Not long before I was led here. She& there was a car accident&
Gwen wanted to take his face in her hands, turn him to look at her, and
say Kris! It s me! I m alive! It s all a lie! I m right here! She sniffed, wiped her
eyes, no longer trying to hide it, and merely said, That s& terrible&
I was& shattered. So was my family. The girl was my sister s best
friend& It was very hard on all of us. I didn t want to live, honestly.
Gwen, unable to help herself, placed a comforting hand on Kris s
shoulder. She felt oddly displaced, hearing about her own death and its effect on
Kris; she was not at all sure what to feel.
It was then that Tryst began to come around, Kris went on. She
appeared in my dreams, first. Very realistic, immersing dreams. And then she
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B.A.McFadden
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showed up for real. She told me that she had been searching for a hero, the Hope
of her people. She had yet to find that Hope, but she had been drawn to me in my
grief, had been drawn into my dreams. She told me of the plight of her people
and this army, this fighting force that was being formed to free them. It was made
up of Dweln and humans, and lacked only the Hope that would lead it to victory
over those who had enslaved her people. She said that something told her I would
be an important addition to the army, and I agreed, feeling I had little to live for,
where I was. And here I am, waiting for the Hope that will come to lead this
army to free the Dweln. Kristopher shrugged, seeming to be regaining his
composure. Anyway, that s my story. I make it sound so dramatic, I suppose,
but I am sure that there are many with stories like mine, with different events that
led them here.
Gwen shook her head, amazed yet angered at the handiwork of the
mages evident in Kristopher s mind. She wondered how he fit everything into the
scenario in his mind, but realized that further exploration might seem suspicious;
she did not want to bring him to question anything. I would say that your story
sounds unique, crafted just for you, she could not help saying.
Kristopher smiled. I suppose everyone s story is uniquely crafted for
him and for her. That s life.
Not sure where to go from there, Gwen placed her mug to her lips for a
sip of cider, but found that it was empty.
Empty? Kristopher asked. Me too. He displayed his mug. And I am
actually getting cold.
Me too. She slid off the wall on the tavern side and Kris followed suit.
Um, I didn t mean to pry. I hope I was not too nosy.
No, Kris assured her, looking at the ground shyly. I just hope I was
not too depressing. But I still don t know your story. Could we perhaps meet here
again sometime so I could hear it?
Against her better judgment, Gwen said, Yes, I would like that.
But& maybe we could sit inside and talk? She punctuated her words with a
shiver.
Kristopher laughed. It s a deal. Well, I ll see you& well, next rotation
when we re both off at this time?
Okay, she said, smiling at him, feeling that goofy feeling of being in
love and having no capacity for rational thought. Bye. She started to walk
away.
Um, Gina?
She kept moving for a second until she realized he was addressing her.
Yes? she asked, turning, still smiling.
I ll return that mug for you, if you want.
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The Death of Santa Claus
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*
Gwen and Kris began a sort of tradition, meeting on the wall weekly to
sit and talk and drink cider. Those were bittersweet times for Gwen; she was so
glad to be with Kris again, to see him, sit next to him, listen to him, talk to him.
They could share their experiences as soldiers, they could comfort one another in
times of frustration and stress, and they could complain to one another about
unfair situations or demands placed on them. Kris spoke much about Frederick,
his family, and his friends, his school and church. Gwen would listen raptly, able
to see the memories in her mind, to feel that painful yet pleasurable aching swell
in the heart and throat that came from mentally and emotionally reliving the
unrepeatable past.
He expressed surprise that she never grew tired of his stories of his
hometown, but she assured him that he told it in such a way that she found it
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