Honda civic si used near me

A week ago, I posted a question asking about whether I should pay off my card or keep money in my savings account: https://www.reddit.com/ynab/comments/13t7kie/credit_card_vs_savings_who_wins/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3
At the end of that post, I concluded that I would keep money in my savings and just throw extra money at the card until it was paid off.
Well, here I am a week later, looking at the budget again, and I find myself just being tired of seeing the debt, knowing I can pay it off, and continuing to not do it.
So today, I decided I want to be debt-free (except for the mortgage!) and that's exactly what I have done. If I regret it, well it's too late now as I already made the payment. 😂
I should be able to replace the money in that account before the end of the year.
My next near-term goal is to get my emergency savings built out to 6 months of expenses. That should be done by March of next year. Then I will start sending extra money to the mortgage. I want to pay it off in 10 years.
I'm very excited about my financial outlook right now. I've come so far in just 8 weeks.
Other YNAB Wins this month:

• Finally figured out why my mortgage loan payoff wasn't working (Payee s/b "Payment To: Loan" not the "Mortgage Co" payee)
• Fully-funded June with May's money on the first of the month
• Got to use my "Renewals for Adulting" category for the first time, and covered my DL renewal fee
• Went to Vegas and came back $50 richer (someone gave me chips to bet and I cashed them instead lol)
• My "Budgeted for Goals" is finally higher than "Needed for Goals" (I brought my targets in line with my spending)
• Hid my "Interest and Fees" category group - not going to need to budget these anymore

Use this thread to promote yourself and/or your work!
(Descriptions of fictional crimes investigated by the story's main Character Max.)
Detective's Fate
It's august of 2008.....
Max is a detective living in Chicago He checks his pistol and puts on his police badge as he walks out his front door.
He has been searching for a serial killer known as the Caller for years and always been one step behind due to the red tape.....
More importantly the chief's lazy attitude towards getting search warrants and actions approved by the courts for raids. Twice Max had good intel on the suspect's locations and photo evidence showing him at the sites.
The department needs more vigilant, caring officers and leaders but no one steps up to do it, instead they just complain about the slow progress and officers. And hinder investigations.
Now Max has decided that it might be time to stop playing by the rules and catch this scumbag.... .... ....
Starting his car Max sets his GPS to the address that "The Caller" was last seen and pulls out of his driveway as the 50 miles of directions pop up.
The killer's nickname being for his signature of calling in as he is committing the crime.
As he drives he remembers his first case, five years ago now..... ..... .....
A woman, Joane Taylor, was found dead in an alleyway after going out for the night. She showed no signs of struggle leading the police to believe she had drank to much and expired from alcohol poisoning.... ...
The death was written off as a "party gone wrong".... That is until several more were found and the coroner decided on a whim to test for other substances.
Once it came out that the deaths were possible murders...
The calls started coming in, almost like the suspect wanted credit before revealing himself....
Then ways of the deaths began changing as the Serial Killer explored his twisted desires searching for his preferred method.
The last case being a young woman found stuffed in a dumpster after the killer apparently got scared off.... Max will never forget it.... .... ....
The GPS finishes and the car beeps its final direction, taking an exit off the highway. Ramps out here are always confusing... Which is funny since he has driven this one for five years now...
The chief says he should sit this one out but he can't... The latest victim 3 months ago.
Marie Spelner, a waitress out on her smoke break talking to her spouse on the phone.
Survived by her husband, no children or living relatives. ....
Max Spelner turns into the driveway of the house he was directed to... Stepping out of the car he walks up and knocks on the door. Looking at the house he knows the family must be doing well if they live here.... Raising his hand to knock again he hears a scream from inside....
A second later the door is answered by a middle aged butler holding a tray with wine glasses on it... "Hello Sir, I'm sorry but this house does not wish to partake in any offers at this time..."
Max calmly says. "I'm not selling anything."
The butler looks confused for a moment before his eyes dart over Max's shoulder seeing his unmarked cruiser and he nods.
Looking past the butler Max sees that a woman is cleaning up after their dog.
"Have you seen this man?" Says Max holds up a picture of the one suspected of being the killer.
The butler gives it a once over before replying. "I'm sorry sir, no I have not." His tone sounds like he is lying... ....
"Are you sure?" The detective asks.
"I would not lie about something like that, sir." He states, his eyes not meeting Max's.
The woman calls from inside "Fletcher, who are you talking too?"
"Some man asking about a killer" he calls back.
"The killer is an inside job!" The woman quickly states.
"What?!" Max says.
"The Killer, it's an inside job." She says again, louder this time. In the same Max also hears a child begin to cry in another room.
"We should start from the beginning, it will be easier to explain trust me." The woman says.
'She seems to know what is going on....
"How do I know your story holds water?" He asks out loud.
"Oh I wouldn't lie. I have been following the case myself and it seems like an inside job to me." She states, somehow sounding hurt.
"Is there anyone else in the house besides you two and the baby?" He asks noticing the baby isn't crying anymore.
"Just Fletcher and I live here, the baby is my cousins but he just stays the night sometimes." She replies.
Max draws his gun and enters the house upon reasonable suspicion of an emergency in progress or suspect on the premisses as the man seems to be deceiving.
While the woman still seems unconcerned that the child is now silent.
He pushes past the butler and rushes towards the area he heard the crying. passes the entryway, the dinning room, and a kitchen before finally finding a child in a playpen.
"There there..." He says in a sing song voice picking up the child. "I'm officer Max, do you know where your mommy is?"
The child just cries louder.
Then he sees the man from the photo walk out of the bathroom, upon seeing him he bolts for the door and Max sets the child down gently then gives chase.
He runs through the house, following the man as he can hear the woman screaming at him to stop but he doesn't."
"Stop or I'll shoot." The man doesn't even break stride.
Instead he runs out of the front door and jumps into his car.
Furious that the man might escape he fires at the car as it drives away.
The back window shatters and he hopes he got his tire, but he doesn't wait to find out as he runs to his car and initiates a pursuit....
He flips on his concealed lights in his cruiser as he reverses down the drive and into the street.
The suspects car is fast but he manages to keep up with it weaving in and out of traffic as people move over for the siren.
As they approach a red light there is heavy traffic in the intersection..... ....
The suspect slams on his brakes and Max's cruiser only just stops short of hitting it. Jumping out the Detective points his firearm at the vehicle running up beside seeing heavily tinted windows.
"Get out of the car and on the ground now!!" He shouts as he moves to the driver's side door.
After seeing no response....
Max throws open the door and the driver is gone with the passenger side open.
He quickly runs to the other side catching the man trying to sneak off tackling him to the ground and then takes his arms putting them behind his back.
Max grabs his radio and calls it in as the man cries.
As he is waiting he hears a noise that sounds like static.....
"Wrong guy moron.. Did you ever stop to think I wanted you close for this one. That I planned everything...Even framing the pothead..... I almost lost interest until you pulled in the driveway... The attic is kinda cramped tho... I think I'll go carve some meat. Maybe graduate to other things to. I'm not sure yet. Lets see if you can catch me before......" A familiar voice says over the radio then cuts off... ...
Max looks at the man on the ground. "Why did you run from me?" He asks.
"Cause I have like 19 grams of marijuana in my pocket." He replies...
"Do you know how stupid that is?! I don't care about that I'm looking for a killer."
Before he can answer Max hears the woman from the house screaming for her life and a child's cries on his radio.
Then from below Max. "He's in the house, he's in the house! My mom and the baby!" The man on the ground says crying.
Max uncuffs him and runs to his car heading back to the house as he lays down rubber on the road... ... ...
As he approaches and pulls into the driveway he notices the front door is open.
"Hold on I'm coming!" Max screams jumping out of his cruiser...
He runs into the house finding the woman's body arriving too late. Moving over to her he checks for a pulse but she is gone, a large gash in her neck.
As he stands up he slips in a fluid but gains his balance and tries not to think about what it is....
He rushes to the room the baby was in finding the play pen empty. He leaves the room searching the rest of the house and still doesn't find the child.
"Where are you!!!" He calls out....
"This is the Callers first kidnapping and the media would eat up the fact I failed to stop the man." He thinks as he blames himself.
Sirens begin to blare in the distance as backup is about to arrive... ... ...
"There's a woman dead and a baby missing! The woman is in the dinning room straight ahead of the front door, Hurry!" He yells into his radio...
Looking over at the mother seeing a piece of paper on the floor.
He walks over to it seeing writing.
"So close... Looks like I'm a kidnapper now.... Good luck finding me.... And... I so enjoyed killing that sweet wife of yours. Might do it that way again. Not to the kid tho....later Max. Ps. This game is so fun.." It says.
"He was here..." Is all he can muster as the team enters.
"He was right in this house and I missed it because her son freaked over weed and ran..." He says as another officer speaks to him gently.
"Don't beat yourself up Detective, it's not your fault. He must have hid before you got her and left after you arrived." The words do little to comfort him "First day back on the job and the killer escaped taking a child..." He says as he walks away.
The chief arrives in his new lexus with a screeching of rubber as he lurches to a halt.
He quickly exits and leaves his door hanging open as he rushes into Max's face....
"I told you to stay away from this case MAX!!!!....(takes a breath)...
"If I catch any flak from my superiors, I won't suspend you.... That'd be to easy. Desk duty and an entry level demotion. The new guy will have a higher rank than you if things go my way.... Now get outta my sight...". "(Sighs)...
"This job is gonna be the death of me..." He says walking away from Max and towards the Coroner's van..... ..... .....
On the way home the detective stops by the store close to his house which is unlike him because he usually follows the same routine.
He nears the front door and he hears a kitchen timer ding loudly from behind him as his car explodes throwing him through the storefront windows as they are blown out..... .....
Alarms around the lot and others nearby create a cacophony of noise. His head pounding as his body aches, Max pushes himself up and collapses as the store manager runs over to him telling him not to move as he dials 911.... .... ....
Waking in the hospital Max recalls the feeling of the Shockwave as he flinches in phantom pain.
"Who woulda thought its like holding a ringing metal bat that hurts your hands but all over and way more intense." He thinks.
He suddenly feels tired and falls asleep.... .... .... ....
The next time he wakes, he sees a breaking news story that Jane Saltani is reporting on....
"Young toddler Accidently Shoots Serial killekidnapper ending his life and Alerting residents in the Area." The news anchor says.
Sighing to himself Max thinks about how crazy that is and laughs.
Tho he really wanted to bring the guy in. He closes his eyes to get some much needed sleep as his door opens.
Max looks up to see a man with a silenced pistol pointed at him.
"Hm. Now they think I'm dead. Funny how they just assume they got the right guy. Just like.... You did Detect... ....." Max hears but then hears no more as his end comes at just over the speed of sound....
The Caller leaves the hair of another intelligent convicted murderer that he obtained in a spot that's believable and quickly leaves.....
He disables the surveillance system and sends a virus out to any device that has received video data from the hospital.
Erasing and corrupting the systems. Leaving a master hackers finger prints on a glass from his home....
"Sorry, no witnesses." He says to the security guard as he fires... ..... ..... .... ....

Hey guys ! So this isn't really a question or something but I just wanted to talk about my experience with a tuba so far. I switched to tuba around veterans day bc our other tuba can't celebrate anything due to his religion. I played euphonium before , so I caught on quickly.
I thought I was gonna quit after the Christmas concert but something about the tuba just made me wanna stay. I continued and I made 3rd chair in honor band ! There were 8 tubas , so i was really happy with the outcome.
Then came our spring concert and now I'm using a newer tuba gifted to our school by the state instead of our old , broken down rotary. I had to use the rotary during our LGPE performance but that's okay. I just couldn't play any notes that were above high C. I played in our spring concert and even got a soli (2 tubas and 1 Bari sax part. It was in Cantina Band from Star Wars).
For those of you who aren't sure about switching to tuba , I suggest doing it. Its really fun and you'll find a talent you didn't even know you had. Take it from me , someone who's only been playing for nearly 9 months or more. Have fun with it !

Buenas, tengo la libreta de enrola de un familiar, el no hizo el servicio militar y queria corroborar con su libreta pero no entiendo mucho y no encontré mucho en google.. ¿Donde puedo verificar que no hizo el servicio en este documento? Me aclararon que aca se deberia notar y veo en partes como "servicio de conscripción" que no le anotaron nada, ni altas ni bajas. nada.. también tiene otras paginas vacias y otras firmadas pero como nunca use libreta mi conocimiento es limitado.. Peero muy probablemente alguien aca tuvo o conoce a alguien que si. Lindo finde :)

--- Table of Contents ---
Autumn 4986, 16 Aoimoth
Shon and Nangran hobbled their horses at the base of a steep hill deep in the woods north of Hamerfoss. They'd left at fourth bell, before any of the other Squires had woken for their morning run, and it had still taken them hours of riding through narrow trails to reach this place. At least they hadn't run into any monsters. The snow that had dusted the landscape during the night lay thick here, crunching underfoot and occasionally flopping noisily to either side as it fell from the tall evergreen branches.
Shon adjusted the strap of his sword across his chest and reached his left hand back to brush shaking fingers over its hilt. He'd been glad when the Paladins insisted he take it with him. To them, it marked Shon as a representative of Hengist and the Temple. To Shon, it was a sign of his hard work and resolve. Having it was a comfort.
Nangran started up the hill, and Shon hurried to follow. The smith hadn’t spoken a word since they set out, not even to try and ease Shon’s anxiety, for which Shon was grateful. Master Daunas had tried to sound confident as Shon saddled his borrowed horse, and The Major General had offered him encouragement as they mounted. Neither realized how much that just drove home the desperation of the situation in Shon’s mind.
The smith pulled his heavy cloak tighter, and Shon looked away. He hadn’t bothered to wear his cloak. He'd never really felt chilled in the winter like others seemed to. Now that he knew why, he wished he had. Cold continued to swirl around him, enhanced by his worries. If he could just block those emotions, the power would never have been a problem to begin with.
The trees thinned the higher they climbed, disappearing almost entirely as they crested the top of the hill. The clearing looked over the treetops, offering an unimpeded view of the horizon. Forest all around, with flatland to the south and rocky mountain peaks to the north. Only a handful of small trees grew in the clearing, and in the middle stood a little ramshackle hut only slightly larger than an outhouse.
Nangran threw his arm out, stopping Shon from walking past him, "Don't touch anything. And don't be surprised if he says no right off."
Shon nodded, trying to swallow down his fear so it wouldn't be seen in his eyes. Dropping his hand, Nangran started forward again, finishing, "Be honest, but not insulting." The instructions, -or perhaps advice?- seemed like common courtesy, which made Shon wonder why quiet Nangran had bothered to say anything.
As they drew closer to the little shack, Shon could make out a sign on the door. He squinted to read it and had just made out 'No Soliciting' when the door swung open, banging against the wall and sending birds into flight. An old man, so thin he looked like a skeleton with yellow skin pulled tight across its bones, stormed out. Wearing nothing but a loincloth, he was shaking a thick stick at them that glinted with red rubies in the low autumn light.
"I already paid my dues for this decade! So you can take your request and shove it-" Shon’s hand instinctively reached for his sword, but Nangran just crossed his arms over his barrel chest. The old -virtually naked- man stopped yelling mid-rant and lifted one shriveled arm to shade his eyes as he squinted at them, "Eh? Flintchest, what’re you doing way out here with a blasted mage in tow?"
Rather than answer, Nangran started forward again, he didn't much care for talking, let alone shouting. Looking from Nangran to the loincloth man, Shon slowly lowered his arm, but still took position to the left and just behind the Smith as they approached the crazy man with the glittering club.
"No mage." Nangran said as he came right up to the strange old man, "Squire." he glanced over his shoulder at Shon and finished, "Sorcerer."
The old man spat on the ground and moved his squint to Shon. Running his eyes from the top of his black head to the tip of his polished boots and back, exaggerating the movement before he stopped at the Squire’s cold blue eyes.
He spat again, then barked "Where's your familiar?" scanning first the ground at Shon's feet then the sky above his head.
Shon blinked at him, furrowing his brow in confusion at the question. The mage snapped his fingers impatiently, "Your familiar! All Sorcerers have a familiar."
Nangran came to his rescue, "Just woke last night," he said shortly.
The mage spat again but didn't argue, "Well, come in then." Shon looked sideways at Nangran, but the Smith had already begun following the skinny old man into the shack. Shon hurried to catch up.
Inside, Shon's eyes were assaulted with a sparkling rainbow of colors. The room they'd entered was considerably larger than the outside would suggest, with plush carpet and a stuffed high-back armchair in front of a blazing fire in the opposite wall. Shelves full of exotic plants, glowing glass jars, and glittering stones filled every available space, reflecting off one another and setting streaks of light to dance on the floor and walls like sun rays through crystal.
There was too much to take in, so Shon focused on their host. The old man was slipping into a thick robe of deep purple velvet. He'd hung the club on the wall beside the door, which looked just as decrepit on this side as it had on the outside.
"Make a habit of greeting visitors half-naked and swinging an old fireball wand?" Nangran asked as he slipped out of his cloak.
"Keeps the conversations short." the old man replied tersely, tying his belt and turning to his guests. With boney knuckles on boney hips and glare firmly planted on his wrinkled face, he snapped, "Don't bother getting comfortable, Flintchest; you'll be leaving soon enough."
The Smith ignored him, hanging his cloak on the hook that had presumably held the mage's robe. "Got a favor to ask," he said, but the old man was already shaking his head,
"More like a favor to cash in. That's the only reason you're in here and not smoking in a hole outside."
Nangran ignored the threat and motioned from Shon to the old man and back. "Archmage Ivelm." The mage looked Shon up and down again as Nangran made the introductions, “Squire Shon.”
"Not much longer, I'd say." Ivelm said to Nangran as he finished his second examination, "It's to the Guild with this one. Too much magic." he turned his head and spat in a brass can by the door. It rang out with a loud ‘ting!' and Ivelm sniffed, looking down at Nangran again, "What do you want, Flintchest?"
"Need a seal. So the boy doesn't freeze Hamerfoss more than it already is." the smith crossed his arms, watching the mage and somehow still seeming completely at ease.
"Eh?!" Ivelm exclaimed, leaning far forward. Shon had to try hard not to crinkle his nose as the old man brought his face close enough that Shon could smell Ivelm's breath. Garlic, the mage ate a lot of garlic…
"So… you don't want to be a mage, do you?" he demanded, glaring down his nose at him. Shon shook his head and would have answered with a 'no ser.' except the mage continued, "Rather swing around some hunk of metal like a brute?"
Shon blinked stupidly, and Nangran cleared his throat, "Watch what you say about my swords, old man."
Ivelm ignored the smith as soundly as Nangran had ignored the Archmage, and continued to Shon, "The powers of the universe are at your fingertips. Blood blessed with the strength of the elements, and you wanna throw it all away," he threw his arms into the air, still uncomfortably close, "And for what? Some illusion of an honorable death by the sword?"
Shon didn't know what to say. He looked past the affronted mage's face, only an inch from his own, to Nangran. But the smith gave no sign he was going to help. Shon’s future depended on convincing this strange old man, this Archmage, to help…
Shon wasn't the type to try and convince anyone of anything, but the least he could do was explain himself. Shon stepped back from the mage to address him from a more comfortable distance. "I chose to dedicate my life to perfecting my art, and my art is martial combat," he said. Ivelm wrinkled his nose, his mouth twisting as if he were going to spit again, but Shon continued, "magic would be better served in the hands of someone who wants it badly enough to work for it. Like I've worked for my martial skills."
Ivelm leaned away from Shon, his eyebrows lifted into his frizzled gray hair. Shon looked to Nangran, hoping for some sign that this was a good response. The smith smiled from behind the mage.
"Soooo…" Ivelm drew the word out, "You think only those who dedicate themselves to strict study and practice should wield the power of the universe?" he leaned forward again, turning his head and fixing one eye on Shon like a bird. As if trying to catch him in a lie.
Shon nodded, confused, then asked, "Isn't that what it takes to effectively wield magic? Focused study?"
Ivelm didn't answer the question, instead turning his face to examine Shon with the other eye, scanning him up and down yet again. The old man had looked him up and down so much Shon wouldn't be surprised if the next question were about his hair or boots.
But Ivelm didn't ask another question. Instead, he stood straight and spat into the brass can with another ringing 'ting!' "I like this one," he said, turning his back on Shon and facing Nangran, "But it's too much." he shook his head, lifting his hands in helpless surrender, "Too much power, and ice at that. Stubborn element that one. And it's so finicky to block just elemental magic..."
Ivelm continued talking but Shon heard very little of it. A hole had opened in his gut, and it felt like his heart was racing his stomach to fall into it. But Nangran just rolled his eyes at the mage, interrupting, "Used to be the name in new magic items... made shackles to hold Archmages." he squinted at Ivelm, who had frozen mid-head shake, "Must've gotten rusty out…"
Ivelm snapped his fingers under the Smith's nose to stop him talking, "The mind does not rust, Flintchest!" he huffed, one bare foot tapping under his robe, "Not like your swords and shriveling muscles." Nangran just stared stubbornly, his thick, muscled arms still crossed over his broad chest.
The mage continued to tap his foot, his nose in the air. But as the silence stretched, Ivelm looked down at the smith, who continued to say nothing. The silent battle of wills ended when Ivelm threw his arms up in disgust and shook a finger under Nangran's nose, nearly hitting it, declaring, "I'll show you. I'll make a gem especially for this lad, and you'll see the mind only continues to grow sharper!"
He spun on his heel back to Shon, who had just made out the smith's returned smile from behind the mage when the old man snapped his fingers in Shon's face, making him jump. "Well, what are you waiting for? Come here so I can take some measurements!" Ivelm swung around again and marched across the room to a large workbench with plants and gems scattered across it. Shon scrambled after him, praying his thanks to Hengist and suddenly feeling light enough to float. His anxieties dropping away and melting like snow in summer.
***
It was already noon, and no one had come to see Her. She jumped up to grab the bars of Her window, pulling Herself up to peak out but seeing nothing but new snow and tree trunks. She was full to bursting with nervous energy, amplifying every sound and sensation. Footsteps sounded outside Her door, and She dropped from the window, sprinting across the room and resting Her ear on the wood.
“Ran, recheck the lab. Brom, with me.” Archmage Morndancer spoke with his strange alternation between draconic and common as he passed Her door without stopping. She could easily make out the swish of their robes on the stone hall leading away. Three people, Brom, Ran, and Archmage Morndancer. And yet the scurrying of too many feet to be only the two apprentices and Archmage Shaloon, sounded from the floor above. There were strangers in her tower again. Many strangers. Something was happening, something big…
She ran to Her window again, just for something to do, seeking some way to burn off some of the anxiety of not knowing what was going on around her.
A roar from down the hall, a roar of pain, sent ice washing through her veins. She slammed into the door at full speed. Pounding on the wood, She called out, “Brom?! Ran?!” Nothing. Then a yip cut short, followed by barking and yowling.
She shook the handle with both hands, rattling the door on its hinges, “BROM! RAN!” Something was happening to Her treasures, something terrible… The door handle began to glow, the metal warping and sagging as it melted. The knowledge that She would be in more trouble than She had ever been in before was nothing compared to Her terror. She wrenched the handle back with all Her might, splashing molten metal across Her bed, lighting fires that flared in her panic, and sending smoke to curl up to the ceiling.
She didn’t care. She shouldered the door open and ran.
“Red?!” She passed the first open door but couldn’t stop as Ran called out to Her. Reaching Her treasures' room, She tried to stop but slipped, slamming into the ground with a sticky splash. A final whining bark started a buzzing in Her ears as She stared, transfixed, at Her hands. They were painted red. Warm and sticky. The overpowering stench of iron nearly made Her gag as She looked up to see Morndancer toss aside a glittering golden wolf pup, the body flopping limply over the corpse of its mother and siblings.
Her world went red.
***
The last sample was taken care of, but something roared with enough ferocity to shatter glass.
Morndancer's head snapped around in time for him to fall back, shielding his face with his hands as the Firewyrm exploded. White-hot fire engulfed Her and spread out to the stone floor and walls. His robes began to smoke, the new fire protection spells woven into them being overpowered by the sheer ferocity of the blaze.
Brom had no such spells, and he had only managed a single step towards the girl before he fell to the ground, writhing for only a moment before lying still. The Archmage heard Ran scream from the hall before the journeyman stumbled past the door, flailing wildly. Barely discernible as human inside the flames.
The Firewyrm moved towards him, stepping through Brom’s head, turned to ash, and blown up to dance in the air on the same heatwaves causing the girl's hair to wave wildly about Her. She didn't seem to notice, Her face was expressionless and her eyes glowed as red as the scales across Her cheek. Morndancer tried to snap his fingers, but the golden collar around Her neck melted, Her clothes burning off and leaving Her naked and terrible in the flames.
His robe was burning now, and only the pain of that could pull his eyes from the Firewyrm as he pointlessly tried to beat the fires off. He fell back, hitting the wall, which drooped, sagging and dripping molten stone onto his head and face. Then he fell further back, into a gate that opened behind him.
Shaloon pulled him through the portal and into the library three stories up. The Firewyrm roared again and the tower walls shook with the force of it. The gate closed, but Morndancer continued to burn. He could hear screaming. Was it him? Was he screaming? Fire burst up the spiral stairs in the middle of the room, and apprentices, both their own and many sent from the central and western Talon, scrambled about in a panic, some even leaping from the windows.
Shaloon cursed, holding out her hand and summoning her sword again. She had to draw the circle five times before a second gate finally formed, and she dove through it, pulling Morndancer along with her as it quickly closed. An apprentice reached through, and his arm fell at Morndancer’s feet, miles away in the sitting room of his manor back in Smildna.
He laughed. Shaloon slapped him, and he laughed. Ronni, his daughter, burst through the door, her own daughter, only a year old, perched on her hip, and still, he laughed. “What’s wrong?! What happened to him?!” he barely registered his daughter's words and continued to laugh, rolling around on the ground in mirthful madness.
“The Firewyrm She…” Shaloon started, but Morndancer yelled over her in draconic,
“She is true! She is pure! She is rage! The children will come and raise the grandchildren! We have only to await the coming of those Chosen!” the room faded around him, becoming washed out and gray then finally black as he continued to laugh and shout, “They take those who slew them and use them to raise themselves anew…”
He couldn’t feel his burns or the hands trying to settle him. He saw only darkness and stars. And the eyes of his Master boring into his soul from the outer planes.
***
Shon couldn't remember ever feeling so drained in his life. He'd been tired before, exhausted even, but it had never felt quite like this. The eccentric Archmage Ivelm had ordered him to 'empty his energy' into stone after stone. Measuring the weight, color, and temperature of each. Making notes in chalk directly on his table and talking to himself. Shon was shocked the first time he saw the smooth rock handed to him change from a translucent white to an onyx as black as his hair, but by the time they'd gone through the twentieth stone, Shon had decided to stop counting.
Ivelm, however, seemed to get more and more excited with each one. Giving Shon reason to suspect the mage may be taking the energy for himself. After what felt like hours, Ivelm finally stoppered the potion he'd mixed with the most recent jewel, glowing a soft pale blue, and stepped back from the workbench, bony hands on bony hips.
"It can be done." Ivelm swiveled to face Nangran, "He's strong, I don’t know how he managed not to manifest until now, but it's all focused in one elemental direction." he rubbed his chin and looked at the ceiling, completely ignoring Shon's arched eyebrow. "It has a bit of divine flavor as well. But I suppose that shouldn't be surprising for a training Paladin." The mage stopped musing and glared down his nose at Nangran, who had made himself comfortable in the oversized wingback chair by the fire, "It will have to be a lot bigger than a piece of jewelry would allow."
The smith just hummed and sipped at his mug. When had he gotten a mug? Shon looked from one old man to the other. It was apparent Ivelm wanted Nangran to ask him for details, but the ever stoic smith said nothing.
Shon was tired. His limbs felt heavy, and the weight of his simple uniform felt more like platemail. He was just about to ask what the Archmage meant, to hurry them along, when Ivelm threw his hands in the air and said, "You'll need to find somewhere to put it. I would recommend that." he pointed at the hilt of Shon's sword over his shoulder, continuing, "If the lad is insisting on swinging a metal stick around instead of harnessing the ultimate powers of the universe then that same stick might as well sap the power literally as well as figuratively." Shon arched an incredulous eyebrow but Ivelm wasn't paying attention, finishing, "I can get it down to about an inch and a half orb. At the smallest. If you want something different, say so now."
Nangran set his mug on the ground and stood with a grunt and a groan. Shon just wanted to go home and sleep for a week, so when the smith reached for the hilt of his sword for a closer look Shon hardly noticed, until the squat smith jerked it down to eye level. Shon swung his arms like a drowning man and stepped wide to prevent himself from falling over.
"Quit wigglin'," Nangran grumbled, studying the sword's pommel with a professional eye. "One and a half'll do, preferably in a tear…"
The mage snorted and continued to ignore the struggling half crouched Shon, his voice dripping sarcasm as he addressed the smith, "Shall I wrap it in silk for you as well?"
"Na." Nangran let go of the sword, and Shon stood straight, lifting his leg to shake out the knee. "Drop it off when you’re done." the Mage snorted again but didn't counter.
None of them were interested in extending the visit, so Nangran grabbed his heavy cloak and shrugged it on while Shon waited by the door. "It will be at least a fortnight," Ivelm called from his position by the workbench, not about to walk them out.
Nangran grunted his confirmation and opened the battered and decrepit door, letting the wind and early autumn snow blow in on their way out. Shon followed numbly, his eyes unfocused as he walked, and ran right into the much shorter man. Nangran hardly moved as Shon bounced off of him. He was squinting into the distance, one large hand shading his eyes. Shon stared at Nangran for a moment before following the direction of his gaze over the tree line.
Smoke. A LOT of smoke. The black clouds billowed violently into the sky, occasionally lit from below by sparks shot high into the air.
"Elm!" Nangran shouted. Shon had never heard the man call so loudly. The Archmage must have also been shocked because the door to his hut swung open and he stuck his head out to look to either side, eyes wide.
"Flintchest, what?" but he soon saw what, "But, that's the old chemist's tower… What?" he stood in shocked confusion for a heartbeat before turning back into the hut. Shon looked from the shack to Nangran, but before he could say anything, the mage was back, struggling with two long rods, one blue with what looked like waves painted all around, the other black and studded with diamonds.
"Don't just stand there!" Ivelm snapped at the two as he finally managed to slip the blue rod into a sheath at his side. He then pointed the diamond rod at the space between two close-growing trees. Shon heard him say something unintelligible, and one of the diamonds shot out of the tip of the rod to hover between the trees before expanding into a portal.
Beyond the magical gate, Shon could hear the fire roar. It sounded how he imagined the burning hells might sound, but as he followed the two men through, he realized his imagination was tame by comparison.
The smell of burning flesh and hair choked him as they stepped clear of the gate's magic. The heat smashed into them like a wall, and all three brought their arms up to shield their faces. Around them were the charred remains of what looked like humans, their faces buried in the mud as if they'd been trying to run from the blaze. Shon had to swallow the bile that rose in his throat and focused instead on the fire Ivelm had said was a tower.
It was completely engulfed in bright flames of all colors. Squinting through the light, he could see the stone walls melting like wax. The arch of the doorway sagged in the middle, and Shon's eyes went wide. Someone was in there.
He would've had to shout over the roar of the flames, but it didn’t matter; Ivelm was already raising the blue wand, jerking his fingers in strange ways and mouthing words impossible to hear. Water shot out the tip of the wand with the force of a ballista and hissed against the glowing stones.
It wasn't possible. It must be a trick of the flickering flames. But the figure turned its face to them, long hair whipping about as it took steps in their direction.
"Don't just stand there, boy!" Ivelm screamed. "They must have a fire-resist spell; those things don't last forever!"
Nangran grabbed Shon’s upper arm, pulling him a step closer to the fire and down so he could shout in his ear, "Freeze a path."
Shon swallowed. He was so tired, literally drained. He didn't know what to do or how to do it. But the figure in the fire reached out to them only to pull away from a drop of molten rock. Shon fell to his knees, placing his hands on the ground and pleading silently to Hengist. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to control the power. He tried picturing a path of snow between himself and the tower base, concentrating on it until the mental image overlaid the real world, as he did when imagining phantom fighters during practice.
Ice snaked its way from Shon's fingers towards the burning tower along his mental path, powered by the fear that he wouldn't be fast enough to save the person inside. The water from Ivelm's wand helped carve the way, and Shon grunted physically as he struggled to push mentally. His breathing came heavy and ragged. He could feel the fire melting the edges of the ice as if it were a part of him. Still, he fought back and forced it to continue to form into solid sheets moving closer and closer to the figure still trapped in the tower.
Wherever the ice formed solid, it stayed. The fire drawing back from it until, finally, it reached the doorway. He urged the ice to climb up the doorframe, to hold it in place and keep it from falling, from moving at all.
Shon was seeing double. He struggled to focus on the figure and flinched as they stepped onto the frozen path. The ice hissed and melted under their bare unsteady feet, he could feel it... feel them, their heat, on his ice.
It was a young woman. Or an older girl. She was naked; her clothes burned away by the fire. Her long hair was being blown forward by the heat of the burning tower, obscuring her face. As she moved closer, Shon could make out strange red stripes snaking around her body, standing in stark relief against her pale skin.
Ivelm stepped in front of him then, throwing Nangran's cloak around her shoulders as she crumpled to the ground. Nangran himself knelt beside Shon, resting one massive hand on the Squire's back. "You can stop, lad…" his voice trailed off, and Shon felt an emptiness open in his chest. No one could have survived that, not if they hadn't already made it to the entrance like the girl. As if to punctuate the thought, Shon managed to focus his eyes only to see the tower's entrance wall fold and collapse in on itself, the stones flowing like soft wax.
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Sorry for the double post today. I wanted to keep Ch 14 & 15 together.
Thanks for making it this far, you are the real MVP

Just a few hours I ago, I was getting no issues with sound or anything. Then I went to the store, came back and got this weird sounding staticy, modulated, garbled mess from any videos I tried to play. Could get some words but could barely hear anything people were saying and whatnot.
- Tried another set of headphones, same deal.
***Note, that both headphones use different types of jacks on the same volume knob module thesoundcard comes from.
- Tried restarting my PC and it caused me to lose audio altogether from the soundcard.
- I unplugged the volume knob from the sound card inputs and directly plugged into the soundcard, still no sound.
- Looked to see if the PC was still reading my card, it is. I can find it in Sound options and Device Manager.
- Looked over my connections, nothing is disconnected. All has been untouched in the nearly 2 years since i've owned the card.
Thanks for any help0
EDIT: My soundcard driver had a stroke. Reset everything and caused it to funnel audio out speaker ports with nothing plugged into them.
Sounds good now... Thank god lol.

Currently early/mid 30s with an older sibling. I’m doing pretty well and am set to achieve a pretty high net worth when it comes to retirement time, or an early retirement if I choose to take that route.
One of the big things I’m currently thinking about is my sibling. When I graduated high school, he was a year ahead of me and decided to go into the trades. He’s had a couple of kids he didn’t plan well for, with a woman who he now has little relationship with though they live in the same house. He smokes cigarettes and marijuana regularly, drinks excessively, doesn’t exercise, saves nothing for the future, doesn’t make enough to support his family and bills, has gotten multiple injuries from stupid things like motorcycle accidents and other accidents, has had multiple duis, and chooses to not work nearly as much as he could. I don’t know how much he makes but I’m guessing $30-$40k. He’s a licensed electrician and in his area could probably go well over $100k if he wanted, but he’s just lazy. I’ve probably given him about $20-$25k over the past couple of years. Parents probably gave him low 6 figures.
Has anyone dealt with something like this? If so, how’d you do so and what was true outcome?
My current hope is he’ll work harder and stick it out until the kids are 18 and hopefully in college, and he’ll hopefully start saving for his future. That said I suspect there will be a good chance I’ll have to use some of my investment income to help him retire if I choose to do that. I don’t suspect he’ll have another way. That definitely wouldn’t be a problem but I also don’t feel that he is deserving of it. Like, I’m making all the right moves, have worked very hard for a long time, and he did the opposite, so why should he get my help when he hasn’t lived a good life or been a good person.

If you’re wondering about the origins of the beloved Dutch Crunch Bread, I’d like to offer you a detailed recounting of its rich history:
First, lets roll the clock back to Denmark in 1940. Operation Weserübung had just started under the command of General Nikolaus von Falkenhorst. Unbeknownst to the Dutch citizens, Der Fürher himself visited the front lines himself. Of course, Adolph was accompanied by his closest SS officers and the best bodyguards stolen gold could buy.
Hitler and his beloved General Falkenhorst would watch their Panzer tanks run over the bodies of fallen Dutch enemies from afar through binoculars. Even though they were a ways away from the action, they could hear the sounds of the Danish bones snapping underneath the tank treads.
One day Hitler was having himself a lite lunch atop a hill overlooking the massacre and had a revelation as he bit into his sandwich at the very moment a tank crushed another body. One of his closest guards gave this account later during the Nuremberg Trials:
“Der Fürher bit into the pastrami sandwich and exclaimed ‘Unt Mein Got! Get me the best baker in Düsseldorf!”
The famous baker, who would remain unnamed, arrived on the front lines with his crew of the best culinary experts of the Third Reich. It was there where he and Hitler himself designed what would later become the Dutch Crunch bread. The leader of The Fatherland wanted to give his people a fun and delicious remembrance of their victory over the Danish resistance fighters. The bread had to be crunchy, and crunchy it was!
As they engineered the most famous loaf of the Wehrmacht, the culinary experts used the natural surroundings of the battlefield to influence its design. One day a bread expert tripped over something while walking through the Danish wastelands. It appeared to be a civilian who was flattened by a tank tread. The unique design across what used to be their back and midsection would be used as inspiration for the Dutch Crunch’s signature crust. The bread itself visually imitated the appearance of a body after getting crushed by a Panzer. It was a big hit with the Rhinelanders.
There was only one problem, it was too big of a hit. It’s popularity caused a huge demand; which the Nazi Bakers couldn’t keep up with. This is when the famous Düsseldorf baker came up with a wonderful idea. He knew where there was plenty of large ovens and free labor to operate them. The Sachsenhausen labor camp was chosen as the headquarters of the Dutch Crunch bakery. It is said that some of the residual human remains could be tasted upon the sweet, crunchy top of the bread. It wasn’t planned to be this way, but those ovens were too hard to clean. Especially when your labor force is so skinny and malnourished. Food critics all throughout the Axis of Evil approved of the sweet crust, even speculating that cremated human remains still retain a sweetness in the ash and fat drippings.
Throughout the remainder of the second Great War, the denizens of The Fatherland would enjoy this new crunchy loaf. Its story was nearly lost to history until two unlikely students attending Northern Michigan University found an old book full of German recipes in the library in 1964. The discovery of the Dutch Crunch bread caused a spark of inspiration.
They would later become the founders of Togo’s Great Sandwiches. Tom Neumann and Gordon Reed were known sympathizers of the struggles of National Socialism, and attended many of their rallies throughout the US. They even provided catering in the form of sandwich platters. They were such a big hit with the Neo-Nazis of America, they were gifted a crate of stolen Jewish gold, which came from an unknown person somewhere in the jungles of South America. This would help finance the expansion of the Togos brand, making it the popular sandwich shop franchise it is today!
So, now every time you take a bite out of a large number nine hot pastrami on the Dutch Crunch bread—savor it! The ovens might be different and the labor force now wears T shirts instead of torn potato sacks… But! the lunchtime experience Adolph Hitler created all those years ago still lives on—inside every loaf!

Credit for the original story goes to u/spacepaladin15. I have to say, this was easily my favorite chapter to write. I hope you enjoy!
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Memory transcript subject: Trish, Venlil civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: February 29th, 2177
Location: Lower sprawl of City 23, Venlil Prime
It was a long drive back down to the Den, and the whole group held their breath for every second of it with spines bristling and skin crawling. To all of them, it felt like exterminators might appear behind them at any moment if they let themselves relax for so much as a second. The only noise (aside from the whiny roar of the engine) was the hiss of a spray bottle, as James disinfected the wound at Sasha’s side with some mild antiseptic and threw a light cover of bandages over the whole affair. Those aside, the vehicle was filled with a deathly silence.
By the time they were back at the Tipped Quill, even Beast seemed cowed. Trish set it down in the adjacent side-alley, and its doors opened without so much as a screech of the unoiled hinges. They silently disembarked for the bar with all the cheer of a funeral procession, each of them constantly sneaking looks behind them. James and Burai were in front, Tressa and Trish in back, with Sasha and the cargo shielded from all angles as though they were under attack. The thick tension in the air further silenced their movements, leaving only the sound of the ashen wind outside as they walked.
​
As soon as the door to the Den slid shut behind them, the tension snapped. A roar of exuberant emotion from every angle nearly pushed Trish to the ground, as the rest of them erupted with cheers. It was like being at the center of a supernova, a feeling of being crushed from all angles. Trish just barely managed to stay upright from the sudden shock, ears failing to adjust for several seconds to the new baseline of noise.
“—and just threw himself at them, crying some sob story about a human hunting him. And they bought it! They actually bought it!”
“No shit they bought it! What were they gonna do, let an opportunity to put those flamers to work pass them by?”
“You know, there was a fire escape ladder on the other side of the building. If you’d let me say something before jumping, maybe I wouldn’t need to pull this quill out of your side.”
“You and I both know we— mhfff— didn’t have that sort of time. ”
The dizzying whirl of socialization around her faded into a manageable hum, nervous sharp laughter giving way to more gentle chuckles as the adrenaline faded. Trish managed to drag herself to a chair, nausea fading but legs still shaky from the sudden outburst. She should’ve thought to bring earplugs.
“Hey Trish, you good? You’re looking pretty faint yourself…” James wrapped up his work and paced over to her, his face a bizarre mix of mirth and concern.
“Fine, I’m fine. Just a lot of noise, that’s all. Is Sasha OK?”
“Yeah, just a spine in her side from that fall. It didn’t get past skin, so she’ll be just fine. Here, why don’t I get you some… hmmm, how do you feel about champagne?”
“I don’t— Champagne?”
He grinned, almost literally ear-to-ear. “Yeah, ‘course! Or cider, if that’s more your style. You know, this is a big occasion! A mysterious unmarked bag from the same contact who got us those pistols last time, we can afford a bit of celebration!”
“...Cider sounds good. This has human amounts of alcohol, right? I don’t want to dull my perception if anything comes up.”
“Relax, relax! You’re acting like there’s a squad of exterminators waiting ‘till we’re drunk to kick the door down. Trust me, it’s all downhill from here! Here, let me get you a glass…”
—
The backpack was set upon a footrest, and all lamps trained on it to make a sort of spotlight. To a rapt and silent audience, Trish walked up to their little makeshift shrine and carefully unzipped the gray fabric.
After only a couple hours and far fewer drinks than might be expected, curiosity had gotten the better of them. They all knew it would be better to wait until morning to see what was in the backpack; for something as potentially monumental as this, being well-rested and sober would be invaluable. They kept their curiosity at bay for long, agonizing hours. But it couldn’t hold. Burai made some joke about holding a ceremony to open the thing, and that was all the push they needed.
Inside the backpack, an expensive-looking technological box lay cushioned in a nest of nondescript white fabric. Trish mercilessly gutted the bag, lifting the contents up high for all to see for a moment before placing the device on the spot where the backpack had set seconds prior. After a moment’s inspection, she found a clearly-marked button on the side which she pushed without so much as a moment’s consideration. A hiss of air and a blink from the green light on the side, and the entire box split in two before sliding open. The blast of heat from the inside made Trish recoil slightly. She peered in.
Her gaze was met by a small oval, glistening slightly under the light of heating elements and LEDs. Blue, glossy with a slightly rough texture, and barely the size of Trish’s paw. She ran a claw across the side; tiny bumps coated the surface. It was extremely warm to the touch. With great care, she lifted it from its metal cocoon and held it up for the rest of the group to see what exactly they’d risked life and limb for.
​
The only person who seemed to recognize it was Sasha, who all but collapsed at the sight. Mouth covered with a hand, eyes wide and frantic, breathing unsteady. Burai practically dragged her to a nearby chair.
“W-What the fuck? How? How!?”
“Sasha, are you—”
Without waiting for Burai’s question to finish, Tressa rushed over to her and practically tackled her with a hug. He was coming at her from an awkward angle, so rather than a graceful embrace, it ended up with him sliding down an arm head over tail. Undeterred, he righted himself and wrapped his tail around her shaking hand.
“Sasha, breath. Five seconds in, five seconds hold, five seconds out, remember? We’ve got you.”
Gradually, her breathing stabilized, and her hands began to steady. Her eyes, however, remained wild and dilated, still roughly focusing on the small blue object in Trish’s paws. After several long seconds, she finally took the hint and carefully set it back in the case.
“Sasha, talk to me. What is it?”
Sasha’s voice was still unsteady, hands still slightly trembling as she pointed at the container. “...What is it? Do… any of you know what that is? What you’ve brought?”
“It’s an egg, isn’t it? I mean, it’s in an incu—”
“It’s an Arxur.”
“...What?”
“That’s an Arxur’s egg.”
Her words rang out like a gunshot, leaving still silence in its wake as the rest of the group processed the meaning behind them. Each person went through a set of reactions in series, timings offset. Shock, disbelief, denial, awe. Their faces and tails formed a silent orchestra of emotion.
Burai was the first to recover, and the first to speak. “How are we going to feed it?”
Sasha looked at him as though he had three heads.
“Well, it’s not like we can get synthesized meat anymore… there’s not exactly anywhere it could hunt, either. Maybe we—”
“Feed it? What fucking part of Arxur don’t you understand!? This is the same species that tore… Burai, you were there! On the cradle, you saw what they did! You should remember better than anyone! They had no empathy, no morals… They killed for fun, ate children out of their parent’s arms! And you want to…”
Sasha’s voice broke, but she continued. “...you want to raise it?”
Burai met her gaze but did not answer. In a truly rare moment, he seemed to be at a loss for words. Sasha looked around at the rest of them; they all wore the same look of determination and all failed to justify their decision with so much as a whisper of argument.
“You want to raise it?” she repeated again, louder this time, as though questioning them at higher volume would make them realize the error of their ways. “Do you think it’ll love you because you were the one feeding it flesh from birth? And… then what? What about every other species in this goddamn ash heap, will it love them enough to starve itself?” She looked around expectantly, but was met with the same steel glares.
“Well? Say something!” she spat. “Any of you!”
​
“Sasha…” Burai began gently, “Do you remember when Cilany’s interview first leaked?”
It was Sasha’s turn to go silent with a cold glare, apparently not seeing where the question led. The rest of the room shuddered; they’d heard the story before. He continued regardless. “The news that the Gojid once ate meat… it hit a lot of people hard. I was in a refugee shelter on Earth at the time. Nobody took it well. Nobody even talked for days afterwards. I heard a couple people tore out their claws and tried to remove their teeth. And there was this one kid… Teveq.
“He was so energetic, always off doing something. With the pups, usually, keeping them out of trouble. Or praying. He prayed to the Great Protector every night for his family to be found hiding somewhere on the cradle. Or sketching, buildings and burrows and skyscrapers. He wanted to be an architect, told me about it a few times. He was always so chatty… he kept me company when I couldn’t even bear to get out of bed. I found him in his room a couple days after we learned. He had a gun to his head.
“He didn’t pull the trigger, but it didn’t make a difference. He stopped eating, stopped talking. He stopped crying too after a few days, and he was just a breathing corpse, a corpse that lost more and more weight each day. He didn’t even pray anymore. The god he’d prayed to for protection hated him.
“When the Kolshians surrounded Earth, he didn’t leave. He wanted to burn. He thought he deserved it, because his people once ate meat.”
Sasha’s look of rage was replaced with sheer horror, but he wasn’t done. “The Federation killed him. Tore out his heart and soul, and incinerated what was left. Not just him, either. Nobody knows what the Gojid were once like before the Federation ‘cured’ us of our meat-eating sins. Nobody knows what we could’ve been, if the Kolshians had used their forces to save the cradle. Maybe they wouldn’t have done so even now, for our status as cured predators.
“The unhatched Arxur sitting on the chair; was it on the cradle? Did it personally kill Gojid? Or do you want us to kill it, burn it in cold blood just because its people once ate meat?”
This, finally, managed to shake Sasha from her stunned silence. Her rebuke was a far cry from the snarling fury she’d held just minutes ago, but she tried to make her voice firm. “Once ate meat? The Arxur can only eat meat, flesh they—”
“The Arxur are dead. They are dead, except for this little unhatched lizard. A being which has committed no sins, except by virtue of being born with a carnivorous digestive system. An innocent child, which represents everything the Federation tried to burn.”
The room was silent for several minutes. Sasha sat with her head buried in her hands, occasionally stealing glances at the container within which the egg sat and the Gojid sitting across from her. Each time, she wordlessly returned to her stance with a fresh layer of unease across her face.
A voice broke the silence. Shaky, muffled and laden with apprehension. Still, it sounded somehow firm, as though it had reached some sort of conclusion. Sasha sat up slightly straighter, though she kept her face covered.
“How… how are you going to feed it?”
—
Memory transcript subject: Burai, Gojid business owner
Date [Standardized Human Time]: February 30th, 2177
Location: Lower sprawl of City 23, Venlil Prime
The rest of the group was already asleep downstairs, but Burai couldn’t make himself sleep. He’d dragged himself up to the empty bar and gotten back to work; though physically tired, the flame in his soul wouldn’t let him rest until it burned out. His passionate argument from earlier still filled his spirit with a fire which couldn’t be extinguished; he could at least put it to work tackling the awful pile of now-dried sludge he’d left for himself to clean up later.
There wasn’t much else for it to do, even if the rest of them were still awake. Sasha had conceded to not interfere with raising the Arxur; although she still wasn’t exactly thrilled about the prospect of one living at the Den, Burai’s defense had clearly knocked the wind out of her sails as far as killing it was concerned. The rest of them, having never lived in a world where the Arxur were a spectre of death and agony, were fully onboard from minute one. He might have to hold them back from cutting off their own fingers to feed the hatchling. After nearly an hour of debate, they still hadn’t established where they could get food for it.
A sharp knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and forced him to leave his task before completion once again. In his exhausted state, he nearly opened the door without even thinking. His claw was on the handle before he remembered that he’d left the hidden door to the Den wide open. He dragged himself over to the switch and lazily jabbed it, pointedly ignoring the knocks as they became more insistent.
Finally, once his little show of security theater was concluded to his liking, he sauntered back towards the door. One claw smoothed out his quills absentmindedly. He knew he probably looked like a wreck, although he didn’t have a mirror to prove it. Hopefully, whoever was outside wouldn’t take much notice. He unlocked the door and slipped it open.
“Hey! We’re closed today, but—”
​
[Subject death detected Memory transcription ended]
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My ~$3k KBB 95k mile 2003 Honda Accord just got a quote for a $2k+ repair with other rust damage that seems like it needs much more work in the future so instead of pouring more money into it I'm looking for a new car. I have $5k for a down payment and would like a nice reliable car for my long commute to work once a week. I'm more into tech than I am cars so the handling doesn't matter as much to me as the car's features. I'd love all the features of a new car (backup camera, Android Auto, better cruise control) but it seems the new cars I've been looking at start just above my budget.
I've been looking at used <75k miles 2014-2018 Honda Civics for around $18k but I haven't found any that have all of the features I want. I have loved driving my Accord and really like Honda's reliability but I'm willing to hear what everyone else thinks.
Any cars I should consider that have all of the features I'd like?

I’m a 31 year old male, taking Omeprazole, Bupropion and Cyclobenzaprine.
I have been having tendon pain in my elbows which my Ortho attributes to overuse. More recently I have also developed pain in my thumbs, and now my forearms. I’ve taken to almost completely isolating them but they still hurt.
A few days ago my left Achilles started aching. Besides some walking on the treadmill, I don’t do anything this is high impact on my legs.
I’ve also been having unexplained left upper quadrant pain for almost two years. Imaging of my gallbladder and liver don’t show any issues, other than some gallbladder polyps that magically disappeared. My GI and primary care have no idea why I’m having this pain.
The pain in my forearms and Achilles is near constant. Any use at all causes it to flare up and I’m unable to do much of anything without pain.
What is happening to me?

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Autumn 4986, 15 Aoimoth
“Slow down, Squire!” Master Daunas walked around the sixteen Squires. They were all going through the basic motions of knife fighting together, but Shon knew the Weaponsmaster was talking to him specifically. He'd fallen into the rhythm of steel clanging off steel as the eight pairs of Squires went through the practiced strikes of a rehearsed fight. His partner was keeping up, but just barely. If Shon sped up, the boy would fumble, and Shon could disarm him. But that wasn’t the point of this exercise. It wasn’t a sparring match; it was a two man kata. Shon let out a long exhale and slowed down, matching his partner’s pace.
“Sorry,” Kefir, muttered to Shon, “You should try and get Zihler next time. He won’t slow you down.”
Shon arched an eyebrow at Kefir as the two pivoted in unison, spinning but staying together, so they switched places and continued without breaking rhythm. Or that was what was supposed to happen. Kefir stumbled just a little. He still wasn’t very good at quick pivots like that, and knife forms were full of them. Shon slowed down to wait for him to recover, matching his thrust with a counter as rehearsed.
“Don’t give me that look. I know you want to go faster. Zihler’s the most likely to keep... up...” Kefir had to space the last two words as they dodged each other again. More twists and turns he tended to overshoot.
He wasn’t wrong. Shon did want to go faster, wanted to push himself to his limits, and always just a little beyond, but “Speed isn’t the point of this exercise.” Shon said, and Kefir’s brow furrowed. Though if concentrating on Shon’s words or the continued form Shon didn’t know, “It's precision and practice. Keep partnering with Rerves, who's even worse, and you won't improve.”
They slammed together, the hilts of their daggers locking together as they sidestepped in tight circles. Shon could see at least ten different ways he could end a match right here. His left hand was free, as this was a single dagger exercise, and his opponents hardly ever paid attention to his feet. But that wasn’t the point, and Kefir would learn nothing from Shon downing him now, even if it was.
“Thanks,” Kefir spat sarcastically. Shon gave him a purposefully deadpan look in response, and he continued, “You’re the same, though. You won’t get better if you pick the weakest partners.” the two disengaged, jumping back and falling into a ready stance in one motion. Kefir took a heartbeat longer than some of the other boys but didn’t stumble at this speed as he had the last three times they went through the drill.
“I’m better than Zihler…” Shon said, not in pride or arrogance but in truth. When they had first started knife fighting weeks ago, he had partnered with those who seemed to be at the same level as himself or higher. Pushing himself to reach their level and surpass it. Add to that the fact that he often used his free time for more practice, and Shon had jumped to the top of the class as usual only a week into this new weapon.
Shon brought the topic back around to his point, “Practice is practice no matter how fast I go, as long as I have precision.” and, as if to prove his point, the form reached the culminating move, where Shon and Kefir needed to thrust at each other while turning just enough for the blade to pass by their chests. Shon slowed his thrust only at the end, just enough for Kefir to finish his dodge. Adjusting speed in the middle of a strike without pulling it completely wasn't easy, and they both knew it.
That was the end of the kata, and they both stepped back. Kefir looked down at his knife, sighing, “I suck at this, give me a shield or a hammer, and you wouldn’t have to hold yourself back.” he glanced up at Shon and forced a smile he obviously didn’t feel, “Then maybe I could teach you a thing or two…”
Shon nodded, perfectly serious, and when Kefir didn’t seem to understand, he added, “Exactly.”
The bell rang and the other Squires started heading for the weapons rack to return their knives, but Shon held Kefir in place with his eyes. He looked confused, his expression asking the question before his words could, so Shon explained, “You're better at armor and shields than me.”
That actually got a genuine smile from Kefir, “Everyone is better with armor and shields than you, Shon.” Shon humphed but couldn't argue, and Kefir laughed, “You know, if you spent your extra time actually practicing with the stuff you need practice in, instead of the things you're already the best at, you would get better.”
Shon ran his fingers through sweaty hair. It was only two finger widths long but still needed to be cut. He wanted to argue that practicing with the heavy weapons without armor in his free time was the only reason he was still the top in those as well. But instead, he nodded in acquiescence to Kefir’s observation.
“Hey,” Kefir stepped forward and poked Shon with the hilt of his dagger. Even with his thicker winter uniform on, they avoided touching him, “I get what you’re saying. We each have our own strengths and weaknesses. Thank you for trying to help me with mine.” The thanks was genuine this time, now that the frustration of the practice was over, and Shon nodded. Kefir continued, “Why don’t we make a deal? I’ll let you help me catch up to you in this if you let me help you with armor work. Master Daunas wants to get you in plate, but if you can’t even move in banded mail, you’ll never make it in the heavier stuff.”
Shon let his head fall back in frustration but nodded. Kefir laughed and the two returned their daggers without further words. Shon split from the rest of the stragglers in the courtyard, moving towards the bench beside the wall and the barrel for catching rainwater beside it. This deep into autumn, the water was sometimes frozen in the mornings, but Shon preferred it that way. Reaching in, he splashed handfuls of it on the back of his neck. The others would be heading for the hot showers, but with sixteen of them and only ten shower heads, Shon would wait until they were all done before washing properly.
“I’ll meet you after study time!” Kefir called as he walked by to try and reach the showers with the first group. Shon waved without turning around. He knew Kefir was right. He should focus his extra time on improving his weaknesses. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
***
The mess hall where they had their meals had one long table set in the middle with enough space for fifteen Squires on each side. Around it were set smaller circular tables for the Paladins stationed in Hamerfoss and one larger near the door for the officers. Against one wall was another long table with plates, bowls, and food where they would each gather their meal before finding their seats.
The seats weren’t assigned, but Shon always sat at the farthest end of the Squire’s table, with his left facing the walkway so he wouldn’t bump anyone with his elbow as he ate. No one ever took the spot. It was an unspoken consensus amongst the Squires that that was Shon’s seat. The rest tended to congregate in the middle, talking and poking friendly fun at each other, extending their break into the dinner meal.
Shon took his place and started eating without joining in. They didn’t try to include him most of the time, and he was content to just listen. “Hey, Shon,” Rerves called from down the table, and Shon looked up from his plate to show he was listening, “I hear Kefir’s going to help you with armor tonight. Can I come?” Shon shrugged, turning back to his meal. Rerves went back to his conversation, and dinner continued as usual. The Squires ignoring Shon.
They filtered out of the mess hall as they each finished their dinner at their own pace, some heading to the chapel for prayer and others to the library for study. Shon made his way to the library, pausing in the doorway and debating with himself. If he joined the others at the larger table, they would try and talk to him. They seemed to think it was their duty to include him if he was there. But if he sat alone at the two-man table by the window, they would leave him alone. It meant he wouldn’t be able to ask them questions if one came up, but it also meant they wouldn’t bother him with pointless asides…
Tonight, he joined the study group. The subject they'd started a few weeks ago wasn’t one he had taken to easily, an in-depth history of Gasha province, so he wanted to be able to talk when needed.
It started as soon as he finished the first page, “So Shon, when do you think Master Veon-Zih will be back?”
“Winter Solstice,” Shon answered shortly, rereading the sentence. The others whispered around him about Master Veon-Zih, something about if he would dance with the pretty baker again this year…
“Hey Shon, do you know if Monks train in dancing too?”
Shon placed his finger over the paragraph he'd reached, knowing he would have to reread it after the interruption. He shook his head. When they continued to look at him, he sighed, glaring up at them. This was supposed to be study time… “He learned how after he left the Monastery.”
He reread his paragraph and managed to finish the chapter before running his hand through his hair in frustration at the text. Looking up, he said, “We’ve read about the war between Gasha and Swailand, but this doesn’t say anything about why they went to war in the first place.”
“Fishing rights, I think?” Thom answered, flipping through his own book, “Knowing those Horsa Bast…” he cut off before finishing the curse, glancing at the Paladin acting as librarian, before continuing, “I bet they wanted to extend their fishing to the area around Gasha, and they are just as likely to fight each other as us.”
Rehlien slid a new book Shon’s way, “Here, read this one next. It gets into the justification a little more than that one.” Shon nodded his thanks, taking the book and placing it under the one he was still finishing.
But his question had opened the door to more derailing chatter, “You really like to know the why of things, don’t you, Shon?”
Shon nodded, hoping this talk would at least be relevant, but “You’re like that in etiquette too. That’s probably why you struggle so much.” Shon shrugged. Etiquette didn’t seem to have a point, but that wasn’t what they were supposed to be studying now, “I find some things ‘just are’ because of tradition…” the boy trailed off as Shon glared at him, his words freezing in his throat. When silence had returned, Shon went back to his book. He should've just sat alone.
***
Kefir and Rerves were already waiting in the sparring ring by the time Shon showed up dressed in his banded mail. The armor rubbed uncomfortably around his neck and the thick gambeson underneath bunched at his joints, limiting his range of motion by at least a few inches. It also weighed him down, which he'd managed to convince himself was good for strength training, but was incredibly frustrated by for sparring.
Kefir already had his sword and shield and held an extra bastard sword for him, so Shon went right for the ring, stifling a frustrated sigh as he took the proffered weapon.
Rerves grinned at the look on Shon’s face, saying, “We figured you'd be miserable enough in the armor alone, that we should channel some of Soleil's compassion and let you use your best weapon instead of the hammer.” to which Shon was grateful. Making him practice in the armor with a weapon he still hadn’t mastered would've been adding salt to the wound.
“Let’s do some stretches and warm-ups first.” Kefir started, “Your problem isn’t being afraid to take a hit with the armor,” Rerves laughed out loud, but Kefir continued with only a grin, “It’s in having to adjust your mobility. So let's re-imprint that before we try any sparring.”
They went through stretches, the two of them seeming to match Shon in flexibility only because he was hampered by the armor, then moved on to solo sword forms. Even though the armor was only about thirty-five pounds evenly distributed, Shon still felt sluggish. When they moved on to sparring, Rerves beat him soundly while Kefir watched, tilting his head back and forth like Master Daunas and trying to give advice that didn’t help. Shon could fight, he knew the proper blocks and parries better than they did, but too often he would either not make up for his lack of speed or would overcompensate and swing too hard.
Kefir took his turn, lifting his shield and watching Shon raise his sword to the ready, “Honestly, Shon, I don’t know what to do besides have you practice more and just get used to it.”
“Sometimes that’s all you can do,” Rerves said from the side as he slipped off his helmet. Shon knew they were right in some regards but couldn’t entirely dismiss his frustration at the thought that he was missing something that he needed to learn and not just have beaten into him. He was grateful for his companion’s help but annoyed at their inability to teach.
Rerves gave the order to "Lay on!" and Shon and Kefir engaged. Shon could predict Kefir's moves, could practically see them in his mind's eye, but barely reacted in time, his arm not bending as far or fast as he wanted it to. He gritted his teeth, glaring at the other Squire, trying to sidestep around but moving too slow compared to Kefir, who just needed to turn in place. Shon took a step back and planted his feet. If he could force Kefir to make the larger motions, then perhaps he could focus on redirecting the boy’s attacks.
Kefir hesitated. Shon was most dangerous when he stood his ground, and they both knew it. The hesitation just gave Shon more time to try and strategize. Not that it had helped at all before. Maybe if he could somehow slow Kefir down, or focus on trapping his weapon, then it wouldn’t matter that Shon wasn’t as fast as he would be without the damn armor. Kefir tested Shon’s guard with a few half-hearted attacks that Shon deflected, waiting. When the other Squire finally committed fully, Shon let go of his sword with his left hand, twisted to dodge, and grabbed Kefir’s sword arm.
Just stop. Stop long enough for me to hit you… Kefir tried to pull away but couldn’t. Despite the poor grip Shon had with the thick gloves that were part of the armor, the two Squires seemed lashed together. Kefir twisted his shoulders so he could lift his shield to deflect Shon’s oncoming attack, but his feet didn’t move. His eyes went wide, and his shield came up barely in time to hit Shon’s sword, the tip still reaching over to clang off Kefir’s helm with a glancing blow.
Kefir fell backward and Shon, still clinging to his arm, was pulled on top of him. The boy yelled, and Shon rolled, letting go of Kefir and hearing something like glass breaking over the clanging of armor and screaming of his fellow. Shon rolled to absorb the shock of the fall and twisted to find Kefir on his back, his knees still straight and his boots stuck to the ground. Encased in ice.
The ice climbed up his boots to his shins, but Kefir was gripping his arm, trying to pull more ice from where Shon had been holding him. It continued to grow, soon encasing his hand and sword hilt. Rerves rushed forward, trying to help pry the sword free while the ice on his legs grew past his boots and under his greaves. Kefir screamed again, in pain and fear.
The Paladins on the wall began yelling, their leader taking command, sending some to help the boys and others to run for the fortress. Shon watched in horror as Kefir’s legs and arm were slowly encased in ice, his lips trembling and turning blue. He would be covered soon, Shon knew it, could picture it happening, like a waking nightmare. It would trap his brother Squire and anyone else touching it…
The ice started clawing at Rerves fingers, trying to gain hold and freeze him too.
“What in all the hells?!” Master Daunas showed up with a gaggle of Paladins and the Cleric, who all fell around the boys. Some took out their belt knives and tried to break the ice apart; others began to chant spells to either melt the ice or keep Kefir warm.
Master Daunas searched above the throng for answers and, finding Shon, cursed. He ran around the larger group, grabbing Shon by the arm and wrenching him away, practically dragging him across the courtyard towards the fortress proper. Someone called out in triumph as Shon reached the fortress door and Daunas forced him through it.
What had happened? Had they freed Kefir? Would he be alright? What happened?!
Daunas was still cursing as he slammed the door and spun on Shon, who stared blankly through the Weaponmaster. Panic, he was trying so hard not to panic. Was trying to figure out what had happened, trying to play through the entire thing again, picturing it from outside his body. Was the ice what had allowed him to hold on to Kefir? Was it still climbing up Kefir's legs? Was that why the older Squire wasn’t able to pull back and block properly? Had Shon...
“Calm down, boy.” Daunas reached for Shon’s shoulders but pulled back a moment later, shaking his hands and cursing as they reddened from the cold, “Breathe, boy. Look at me, think warm thoughts.”
Think warm thoughts? What did that even mean? Shon found Daunas’s eyes and saw the Weaponmaster scared for the first time, “Breathe, slow and steady, like old man V taught you. You need to control your energy…” his lips were pale and trembling, his breath coming out in a cloud before him. had it been that cold outside? Shon couldn’t feel it...
Shon closed his eyes and breathed. Control his energy… He pulled himself in, finding his center and gathering around it, “That’s it, boy, like that.” Shon breathed in his energy, his ki, holding it in his gut, storing it for later when he could use it to focus a strike and give it more power, just like Master Veon-Zih had taught him. And just like Master had taught him, he tried to let go of his worries, to clear his mind, if only for now.
Kefir would be alright, almost every adult here could cast healing spells, and at least half of them were with him now. It was okay. Shon could relax, let go, calm down… Suddenly exhausted, Shon nearly collapsed right there in the hallway. Daunas caught him, slowly lowering him to the stones.
Shon could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness, but not fast enough to miss Master Daunas’s last curse, “Damn it, boy, why did you have to be a Sorcerer?”
***
“He has to go to the Mages Guild.” Major General Davies Selibra, Paladin head of Hamerfoss, stated to those gathered in his office. It was a simple room containing two sets of closed cabinets on either side of a large desk facing the door with two seats positioned in front of it. Shon sat in one of those seats, his head hanging and fists clenched tightly in his lap.
Master Daunas slammed his palm down on the desk. He seemed too agitated to sit, or perhaps he just didn’t want to sit next to Shon, who was radiating cold like a fire radiated heat, “We can’t, Selibra! He’s the most promising fighter I’ve ever trained. He’ll lose too much time.” the Weaponmaster's words puffed out as white fog from his lips.
Major General Selibra sat behind his desk and rubbed his temples, “It’s the law Daunas, he either needs to get a clearance or be sealed.”
“Can’t be a Paladin with the tattoo…” Smith Nangran muttered from his position leaning on the door. Shon was too focused on his predicament to wonder why the Smith was even here. A thin layer of ice began to form at his feet.
“It’s the law…” Selibra said again, weary, “If he had awakened sooner, he might have been able to get his clearance before training, but…”
Daunas threw his hands into the air, bellowing, “It takes years to get a clearance. If they even let him. Those Mages would rather just mark the boy up and be done with it!”
A sealing tattoo. They would want to block the magic. Seal it away in his body where it couldn’t hurt anyone. Kefir had suffered severe frostbite as well as a broken ankle. Lucky for him, he was surrounded by divine conduits and was fine, but what if Shon lost control again? Who would the ice entomb? Master Veon-Zih? Innocent citizens he was supposed to protect? Shon’s nails dug furrows into his palms as he clenched his fists tighter. The ice crawled up the legs of his chair and crystalized on the backs of his hands.
The adults continued to talk around him, “The law is clear, Daunas. The magic either needs to be trained or sealed. There are no exceptions.” The law never made exceptions. It’s what kept everything running at top proficiency. Shon admired that… and understood it, as even now he couldn't control the sorcerous ice.
Shon tried to slow his breathing, relax his hands. The ice cracked over his fingers as he forced them out of their fists. It was responding to his emotions, his fear, and horror at what he'd done. What he was. If he could just pull it in, stifle the emotions feeding it, then the magic wouldn't be able to control him…
Ice continued to inch up the chair, and Selibra rubbed his hands together to warm them. They'd been pointedly and purposely ignoring the winter-like cold since bringing Shon to the office.
“Tattoos aren’t the only way to seal magic…” Nangran stated from the door. Daunas and Selibra stopped arguing, and Shon’s head shot up. He turned slowly to watch the Smith who combed absently at his beard, “Law says sorcerer magic needs to be trained or sealed, doesn’t say how.”
“I know the law Nangran,” Selibra still sounded defeated. “A council of Mages, including one of the rank Archmage, must determine if a Sorcerer is capable of controlling his or her power. If they determine the power is too great a risk to the kingdom, then said power will be made unable to manifest. Sealed.” the Major General recited, most likely for Shon’s benefit. Shon's heart pounded in his chest, and the fires that lit the room dimmed.
“What are you suggesting?” Daunas asked Nangran curiously. The smith only talked when necessary, using grunts and nods instead of words whenever possible. That was probably why Shon liked him so much. It also meant he wouldn’t have contradicted Selibra unless he had a reason.
“Know a guy. Used to make sealing items for the guild…” Nangran said with a shrug, as though Shon’s future didn’t hinge on his point, “Owes me a favor…”
“You’re not talking about that mad hermit who comes barging in here once or twice a year, are you?” Daunas asked, looking stunned.
Nangran nodded with a confirming hum. “Still Archmage in good standing…”
The Weaponmaster looked ecstatic, shouting, “Nangran, you’re a genius!” he slammed his hands down on the desk again, breath puffing out in thick clouds as his excitement grew. Nangran grunted.
Daunas turned back to the Major General, who actually looked intrigued. Shon’s heart tried to beat its way out of his chest. “This is it, Selibra! This Archmage can make the boy a sealing item. I’m sure the Temple will vouch for him. He’s our top Squire.” Shon was still too terrified to feel proud of the compliment and watched Major General Selibra with wide desperate eyes. Ice started forming on his hands again, looking like clawed talons.
“The Mages Guild hasn’t given out sealing stones for generations…” Selibra hummed, and Shon barely stopped the desperate whine before it could escape, his fingernails drawing blood on his palms as he balled them into fists again, breaking the ice claws. “but we can at least try.” Selibra finished, focusing on Shon, his brown eyes still looking sad, “Are you sure you want this, Shon? As a Paladin, you won’t be able to train with your elemental magic unti-”
“Yes, Sir!” Shon shouted, leaning forward in his seat and breaking the ice off its legs. He fell back a moment later, embarrassed by his outburst. More quietly, he said again, “Yes, Sir. I don’t want this magic. I want to be a Paladin.” more than anything in his entire life, he'd wanted to be a Paladin…
“Very well,” Major General Selibra stood, resting his fingertips on his desk. Speaking as if to himself, he muttered, “Perhaps this is a sign from Hengist.” looking up, he addressed Nangran, “Tomorrow you will take Squire Shon to this Archmage friend of yours. Gods willing, he will be able to seal the sorcerer magic without hindering his divine capabilities.” he failed to hide a shiver from the cold.
***
Her candles burned hot and bright, flickering wildly as She paced around Her little room. Something was happening in Her tower. There were far too many people with strangers' voices out Her window and beyond Her door.
Brom and Ran continued to visit, but they wouldn’t answer Her questions, wouldn’t take Her for samples, or to see Her treasures. The first made Her angry, the second gave Her energy, and the last scared Her enough to stop asking questions. What if they took Her books again? They hadn’t given Her a reason She couldn’t see Her treasures, so maybe they would soon… maybe tomorrow...
***
“Tomorrow,” Morndancer stated as Shaloon let herself into his room. The transfer preparations had taken months. MONTHS! They were Mages. No. Greater than Mages. They were Warlocks. And yet, everything still took far too long. They could instantly communicate with allies across the kingdom but still had to spend time making the proper arrangements. They could travel miles in a blink but still had to painstakingly pack every book and file, disassemble and disenchant the golems guarding the tower over days and even weeks. If it had been a true emergency -if they'd been found- they could've destroyed everything, vanishing all evidence of their presence and research. But the Master Archmages had forbidden it in this case.
“The western Talon is ready to receive us,” Shaloon confirmed, “What of the subjects? Archmage Yarna has no interest in animal husbandry..."
“The Firewyrm is all she is interested in. It is the only reason she agreed to take us.” Morndancer sat on his bed and stared at the pseudodragon perched on his desk, its leathery wings half furled and its tail twitching over the side of the desk, “I will handle the animal subjects tomorrow. Just make sure you are ready to open the portal out when I am done.” she could only open one portal a day, sometimes two but it would leave her incapacitated for at least a day after.
“Tomorrow then,” Shaloon confirmed, leaving him alone with his running mind and the little pretend dragon, that seemed to stare through his skin and into his soul.
***
Shon couldn’t sleep. Once again, his entire future hung on what would happen tomorrow. And just like the divine test and the road to Hamerfoss, there was nothing he could do to speed up the process. It was out of his hands. Out of his control. Just like the ice now clouding the window and the frost freezing the blankets to the mattress.
He tapped the blank page of his open journal with his pencil. The images running through his mind were the last he wanted to solidify on paper. He tried drawing something else… Kefir smiling warmly at him for the second thank you. Rerves leaning forward and shouting to him across the dinner table. The study group conversing in whispers instead of studying…
He wrote about it all between the drawings but everything that happened after pushed at his mind, the scenes forming in his vision. Shon drew Kefir again, lying on his back and tugging at the ice forming on his sword arm. Then a group scene with the Paladins falling around him, their faces focused, and hands glowing with spells to try and save him… Master Daunas’s scared eyes as he ordered Shon to ‘think warm thoughts...'
With two pages full of various sketches and commentary, Shon dropped his pencil and rested his head on his desk. Why? Was this why he was so cold to the touch? Sorcerers were rare; those with ice power were the rarest even amongst them. Should they have noticed something was wrong sooner? Would Hengist really accept someone like him? Chose a Sorcerer to be one of his extensions in Daanlin?
Shon closed his eyes, breathing slowly and trying not to cry. If they forced him to go to the Mages Guild, he would never be able to fight again. He was sure of it. All his hard work and dedication. All those years of disciplined practice, gone in one instance where he lost control. Where he almost killed a friend.
Everything he was, everything he would be, hinged on the following day. “Tomorrow…” Shon whispered into the dark, his candle finally flickering to die in the cold.
--- Table of Contents ---
Thanks for making it this far, you are the real MVP

I am moving in with my boyfriend in a month, which is great, and I'm excited. But there's two problems:
1) We're moving into the upstairs apartment of a house his parents own and live in. This means we will have our own private space, but his family is very close (and his extended family is big) so I'm expecting there to be more family socialising than I'm personally used to, as my family isn't near as healthy as his. I'm pretty bad at saying no and setting boundaries, so even thinking about how much socialising with strangers I'm going to have to do (I've met his family twice before, so I don't know them that well) is scary. I also like to have a lot of alone time. The one good thing here is that my boyfriend also likes his alone time and we like to spend time together just doing our own thing, so helps.
2) Both times I met his family, I was very quiet and reserved cause, well, we all know what meeting new people is like.. I was extremely nervous the whole time, and these strangers being my boyfriend's family did not help as it just added more pressure. My boyfriend said his parents like me and they think I'm nice, but he's mentioned a handful of comments from them about how "quiet" I am. Today, my boyfriend told me that his mum said she's excited to get to know me better because "the last two times we spent more time together than with them". Some maybe important context here is that we have had to go long distance over the past year and are now moving in together for the first time. For financial reasons, I have to move back to my home country as I had been living abroad and my parents won't take me in. His parents having newly renovated an apartment was a coincidence, as they were planning to rent that space out anyways. We are also both in our early 20s and don't have a lot of money, so when we did get to see each other in real life throughout the year, it was usually only for a few days, so we naturally spent a lot of time together during visits. These comments from them, and the fact that they're my boyfriend's parents make me feel so much pressure about interacting with them, which then makes me worry about how they're perceiving me and so on.
So, my question is how do I comfortably navigate this? I want to have a good relationship with them as they are wonderful people and are also my boyfriend's parents. We have a thriving relationship, and so does he with his parents so I know it would mean a lot to him. But I'm so scared of messing up and how they might be judging me that I feel like I will mess it up and they won't like me.
Any advice is very much appreciated!

Post is about TEW 1
TL;DR: movement is dogshit, achievements bugged, character interactions/reactions are stupid and I just couldnt play anymore. Should I give it another chance?
After knowing about the game for a while but lacking a desire to actually buy it, I installed it on Xbox since its currently free on Game Pass.
At first I really liked the atmosphere and enemies, it’s plenty creepy and I like the “stealth kill” twist on survival horror, allowing you to essentially dictate precisely how encounters go. Basically, if you play your cards right, you can plan out every encounter to essentially cheese everything by being patient and thinking ahead; I fw that HEAVY
Now onto the bad stuff:
Point 1, in terms of actual difficulty (played on survival), it wasn’t super hard at all which kinda killed the tension. I was stealth killing so many enemies that I invested most of my goo points into more ammo stock since I was finding way more bullets than I wound up using (especially since I let Oda kill as many enemies for me as I could) which made me super happy for the siege section of Ch 5 since I could actually dump all the ammo I inadvertently saved up.
Point 2, the main difficulty was controlling my character. HOLY SHIT. In Resident Evil, the controls are kinda clunky, but that’s by design, and the design allows you to learn the movement pretty fast and master kiting and dodging zombies. In this game? Nearly impossible. At multiple points I found myself in an impossible battle not only fighting my aim, but also fighting the janky controls in an area too small to navigate in. I get that its survival horror and avoiding fights is the name of the game, but Jesus Christ its hard to avoid fights when it’s a struggle to get the camera set up right to peek around cover due to how sensitive the camera is when trying to look around corners (move too much to the left in cover? Tough shit bud you’re looking left now when the open hallway you’re trying to watch is to the right and ANY slight movement to the right will ruin your concealment).
Another note about the movement, it is terrible game design to have a character in a genre as precise as this move like an 80 year old grandma stoned on the dankest weed in existence. WHY IS IT SO SLOW??? I try to dodge zombies but the camera sensitivity (even on max) is so slow I wind up walking right into the enemy since I turned so they’re now out of sight and I can’t see what I’m trying to avoid anymore. I’m not asking for Titanfall 2 movement, I just want to be able to actually be in control of my character.
Point 3, the character interactions are so braindead it made me angry. You’re telling me, all the shit you go through up to Ch 6, and nobody is going “yo what the fuck is going on here” “idk man this shit is bonkers” its just “hello, let us go forth towards our next linear objective”. Its not “holy shit Kidman you’re alive? Hell yea. Why the fuck were you trapped in a box trap from Saw?”, its “oh noes we gotta save the damsel in distress! Ok we saved her, oh noes we fell down a hole! Ok we are together again, now lets open a door with the power of friendship without once questioning what the fuck is happening to the city or having any other kind of human interaction”. You are not controlling a character with any level of depth, you are controlling an NPC and that is ridiculous for a game with such a strong start. Im supposed to be like partners with this Oda guy, and yet even while we’re partnered up killing fat guys like best buds I have no idea who the hell he is. Seriously, I was about to nut in the first chapters due to the RE4 vibes and it was all ruined.
There’s probably more but thats the biggest on my mind in terms of peeves.
On a smaller note, for some reason with this game only, in order for achievements to pop, I had to open the Xbox mobile app and try to look at my achievements. I did the chainsaw boss like 5 times thinking I did something wrong or it was bugged. Weird.
I dont wanna rag on Shinji Mikami, Mikami-sensei’s games have usually been very good in my experience but goddamn this game is an absolute shitstain on that man’s CV. Should I even bother trying again later when I eventually forget why I uninstalled this heap of trash? Genuine question

PART 15 <==H==> FIRST
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Will was excited, the past few weeks seemed to herald a new change in Ilicia’s and Agrana's relationship. He had been surprised when came back that first day to find Agrana eating and chatting idly with Ilicia. He was more surprised when Ilicia told him what had happened and when Agrana came to him to assure him of the end of her attempts on Ilicia's life. Will had nearly exploded trying to contain his shock.
It was now commonplace to see Ilicia and Agrana chatting when Will was not around. Will suspected his grandmother did something to facilitate this, but she assured him she had done nothing other than explain her relationship with Karva. Will was suspicious by nature, and as the Princess's Man, he was obligated to be suspicious of all things having to do with the princess. And an Ogdeshi taking a sudden interest in the princess and serving her was suspicious.
Will knew Agrana was a woman of her word. But he also knew her as a master manipulator, and he had confidence in the fact that Agrana would see little wrong with killing a large number of humans to get what she wanted. The thought of Ilicia coming to harm sent blood rushing through him in a way that threatened to bring on the natural occurrence of the Orcish blood rage.
Will was excited. All of this rushed through his head as he walked with Ilicia. He knew he was worried, and he hoped today would provide some reassurance for his ever-active imagination. Today was the day after he completed his training and he was to spend the entire day with Ilicia. She walked next to him, her arm through his, as he led them both through the twists and turns of a forest path that ended in a strange building seeming to grow out of the wood of a gargantuan tree.
The door opened automatically as they approached to reveal a wood elf-man in clothing that seemed to emanate a sense of regal energy. The elf smiled at them and bowed. "Master Will, Princess Ilicia, welcome and please do come in."
Ilicia smiled back at the man. "Thank you sir."
"How is the family Jullian?" Will asked as he stepped through the door, making it feel three inches too small in all directions.
"My wife is well, she is in the kitchen cooking as usual. I will be serving you today as my children are not here at the moment." Jullian said with a quick bow. He led them through the building which Ilicia realized was far larger than it appeared from the outside. They passed several other couples and groups that were seated at different tables as Jullian led them up a sweeping flight of stairs and out onto a balcony that appeared to be several hundred feet in the air and protruding from the tree.
"Will, what is going on with this building?" Ilicia asked, getting a twisting feeling in her stomach as she looked over the railing.
"That would be my wife's fault, she does as she will." Jullian said to Ilicia with an apologetic smile. He bowed once more, and then turned and walked away.
"What is this place Will?" Ilicia asked looking around and noting more and more things that simply felt off. She opened her mouth to speak again as a silver platter with goblets of water floated over and unloaded its cargo before simply vanishing into thin air.
Will laughed at her shock. "Jullian is a wood elf."
"Even I noticed that." Ilicia said wondering where Will was going with this.
"His wife is a goddess." Will said with a smile at how quickly Ilicia's jaw dropped. "We are not sure what she is a goddess of, but she has a penchant for cooking and brewing and she loves Jullian with her whole heart. She fell in love with him when he found her wounded in the woods and stayed by her side, talking of his home in the woods of his youth, he cooked for her and cared for her for three weeks before she could rise on her own."
"Wow." Ilicia said, "Do you know how she was injured?"
"No,and I am not sure anyone knows except Trina. That is the name she has chosen to go by. She also tells people that she is simply Jullian's goddess when asked what she is a goddess of. She is a rather interesting character, if she ever comes to say hello I am willing to bet you will like her."
Ilicia smiled at Will and Jullian reappeared. "So what would you like to eat?"
Will smiled and rattled off a list of food which all sounded strange. Ilicia looked around to see where he had made his selection, but Jullian simply smiled at her and told her to ask for anything she desired. Ilicia realized what was going on and ordered her favorite food from home. Jullian smiled, bowed, and vanished through the doors once more.
"Anything we want huh?" Ilicia asked with a mischievous grin on her face.
"She is a goddess. But I will warn you Ilicia, last time I started trying to challenge her in her ability to cook anything, well let's just say she is willing to humor most things. If she feels you crossed a line, she will let you know by making your food so spicy you taste it for weeks, and that's only after the second or third bite." Will said, his tone indicating he was speaking from experience.
"What did you ask her for?" Ilicia asked.
"My dad told me he used to eat at a place called 'micky dees' so I ordered one of everything from their menu, thinking I would have her stumped with food from another world." Will said and then looked up. "She made it all and delivered it to me, told me to enjoy, and told me if I ever asked her to make such ludicrous and disgusting food again, I would find myself unable to eat solid food for a year."
Ilicia laughed and smiled at Will as Jullian brought out a small cart loaded with plates of food he began to lay on the table.
They ate their food and talked about various things. When they were finished eating Jullina brought them dessert. Will turned to Ilicia and broached the topic of Agrana.
"Ilicia," Will said in a serious mood now, "why did you take Agrana as a member of your staff?"
Ilicia was caught a little off guard. "What do you mean? Why would I not take her onto my staff? Her skills are self-evident."
"Oh, I know. I remember well who first taught me other than my father." Will said this with no anger, simply curiosity. "But I would still ask why you did this. Is the protection I provide lacking? Do you anticipate me leaving you anytime soon? I simply want to know what your reasoning was in making this decision."
Ilicia thought for a moment and then spoke. "I had several reasons, mostly I wanted her to not want to kill me. But since then I have come to some conclusions as to why having her around will be better than not."
Will nodded and Ilicia leaned forward taking his massive hand into both of hers. "I do not think your protection is lacking in any way. I am fairly certain that should I ever be kidnapped, you will tear apart the continent one rock at a time, laughing the whole way."
Will shrugged. The noncommittal way he agreed with herreminded her just how powerful Will really was. Ilicia continued. "The short answer is, you can never have enough bodyguards. The long answer is, I think that while you are the Princess's Man, you will begin to fulfill a far more important role in political functions once we return to the kingdom." She finished her thought in her head, "Hopefully that position is as my fiance or husband, and you can leave all the bodyguard work to Agrana."
Will thought about this for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers. Ilicia knew he was probably mulling over important thoughts, but a part of her wanted him to just look at her like that as he took her on the table. Ilicia shook her head and spoke once more. "So in addition to helping with my safety in that regard, if you leave to deal with the man who killed your father, I will still have a guardian."
Will nodded at this and seemed to relax. "Very well, but I want you to know if she ever makes a move against you again, I will kill on the spot."
Ilicia nodded, knowing from his tone that this was not a discussion but rather a statement of fact. That mischievous voice in her head also wanted him to command her in that tone. Ilicia blushed at the thoughts she was having and looked away from Will.
Will smiled at her when she finally got her blushing cheeks to cool. "So, we have eaten and now we have a whole day to ourselves. What would you like to do, Ilicia?"
"Well, I would like to visit your grandmother's library if she will let us." Ilicia said, remembering the room of books she saw Yilan in earlier.
"Of course." Will said with a smile.
Jullian appeared. "Is there anything else you would like?"
"No, Jullian it was fantastic as always." Will said with a smile.
"Thank you." Jullian said and turned to Ilicia. "If you have a moment my wife has requested a moment of your time."
"Of course Jullian." Ilicia said, turning to Will.
"I will wait for you outside." Will headrf down stairs on his own.
Ilicia followed Jullian through the building which only further exemplified how incredibly large the building was compared to its looks on the outside. When he finally led her into a kitchen that could have fed the entire castle she grew up in, Jullina bowed to her, smiled at the glowing woman standing behind a counter, and then turned to grab a tray of food and leave.
"Come Princess," the woman gestured to a stool set next to her. "Have a seat and talk with me for a moment."
"Of course." Ilicia said, falling back on court manners in this rather strange incident.
"Firstly, call me Trina," the goddess said, "and secondly, what do I have to do to make you forget your love of Will?"
Ilicia's jaw almost hit the counter. "What do you mean? Why would I ever do such a thing?"
Ilicia was angry, a deep anger that burned deep in her gut. Trina stopped what she was doing, knife paused mid-cut. "I care for Will, his father and mother both were dear friends of mine and always treated me no differently than anyone else. As a divinity, I have some small gift of foresight, and you need not be in love with Will. More importantly, he needs to not love you."
"I see why you wanted to talk to me only." Ilicia said indignantly. "Will would kill you."
"I spared with the boy once, and he very well might be one of the very few mortals who could kill a god, but that is beyond the point." Trina said with a calm voice of understanding. "I need to know what I would have to do, to what I would have to give you, to get you to remove Will from your life."
Ilicia panicked. She hated this woman. She looked into Trina's eyes. "You will have to kill me. I love him, there is nothing you could give me that could replace Will."
The goddess stared hard at Ilicia who did not back down. Trina chuckled. "Those Garrow men sure do pick firecrackers. You know there was a time where Will's father took one of my daughters on a date? She came home and said she would bless whoever he married because he was a handful. Then he went and married Yilan's daughter and they gave birth to a man who is by rights almost a god in terms of his ability and power."
Ilicia's head was spinning as she tried to follow Trina's words with her ears, and with her eyes the flurry of time-defiant movements her hands made. Trina paused again and looked Ilicia in the eyes. "You are a brave woman, and you will need to be. A time will come when the love you hold is used against Will, I hope you are strong enough to face the repercussions. Will is getting anxious, and I can not warp time any more than I already have without causing you harm. Take this and go to him, cherish him while you can princess."
Trina handed Ilicia a sweet roll and then hesitated before placing her hand on Ilicia's head and bowing hers for a moment. Ilicia felt a wave of energy wash over her. "Go forth with my blessing child."
Ilicia stood and left the kitchen to find Jullian waiting to take her outside. The sun was setting, where it had been morning just an hour or two ago. She looked back to the building and then to Will. She shrugged and slipped her arm through his. As she shared the sweet roll with him, Trina's words echoed through her mind.
One phrase in particular rattled her to her bones as Will guided her back to Yilan's library. "...I hope you are strong enough to face the repercussions."
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PART 15 <==H==> FIRST
FROM THE AUTHOR: Here it is, the next installment of The Princess's Man! I hope you all enjoy this and have a fantastic day!
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I’m a 31 year old male, taking Omeprazole, Bupropion and Cyclobenzaprine.
I have been having tendon pain in my elbows which my Ortho attributes to overuse. More recently I have also developed pain in my thumbs, and now my forearms. I’ve taken to almost completely isolating them but they still hurt.
A few days ago my left Achilles started aching. Besides some walking on the treadmill, I don’t do anything this is high impact on my legs.
I’ve also been having unexplained left upper quadrant pain for almost two years. Imaging of my gallbladder and liver don’t show any issues, other than some gallbladder polyps that magically disappeared. My GI and primary care have no idea why I’m having this pain.
The pain in my forearms and Achilles is near constant. Any use at all causes it to flare up and I’m unable to do much of anything without pain.
What is happening to me?

I recently bought a new PC after playing on a gaming laptop for about 6 years. Keyboard and headset are all set, and I'm using the Razer Tartarus with (so far) great success.
My issue is my mouse. I have had very bad luck with Razer mice in my past, and when I got the new PC I decided to get a new mouse, too. I was previously using and loving my Razer Trinity (using the circular button layout), but in less than a year, started having issues with my right click. Playing a lot of FPS and needing to ADS, this became an issue so I decided to spend the money on something to replace it with.
I picked up the Spatha X about two months ago and it's been good until a couple of weeks ago. I started having issues where now it's registering a double click whenever I single click. Doesn't happen every time, and it isn't always causing problems, but it's getting worse. I tried uninstalling and reinstalling, all the usual fixes, but haven't been able to find a solution online. Last night on a whim I checked Amazon and saw that for some reason, the Logitech G502 was nearly half off (and it was my back-up choice to the Spatha X in the first place), so I grabbed it without looking much further into it.
This morning my Google app flooded me with articles about gaming mice (as was expected), and I saw another option that I hadn't considered before, the Logitech G604. It's not as stylish (I couldn't care less about looks at this point), and it runs on a AA instead of my Spatha's rechargeable, but that shouldn't really be an issue. Mostly I'm drawn to it for the extra thumb buttons, which I've grown accustomed to after using the Trinity.
Does anyone have any experience with these two Logitech mice? I can return to 502 and get the 604 no problem (hasn't arrived yet), but I'm not sure if I'd notice the extra buttons THAT much to justify bothering with the switch. 502 has only 3 thumb buttons, but from what I'm seeing online, it has 12 buttons compared to the 604's 15, so mostly it's the convenience of having 6 on the side instead of just the three.

We have a 9 yo female border collie. She has always been prone to behavioral issues. But we found ways to deal with those. And for most of the time she is a very happy dog.
3 years ago we got our son. First child. First few months our dog (zelda) was very intrested in the baby. She was allowed to be part of all the baby routines and she did it as a champ. And was very exited about all of it. Even the baby. As soon as our son started crawling that was it. Zelda does not want him near anymore. Just our son, other kids are absolutely fine. She does not do anything, but showed her teeth a few time, which was enough for me to keep the 2 apart. Just figured our son is too much for her, as he did not understand to leave her alone. Luckily we have a big yard were she feels great and have family members who "steal" her for playtime, running and cuddles. So now we are patiently waiting for our son to be more pet "friendly". Outside they are usely fine, cause zelda has all the room to walk away.
Here comes the strange behavior.
As soon as I bring my son to sleep. Zelda becomes really anxious. She knows where he is as ive showed her many times. She either goes lying down in the living room in a corner (which she only does when she is scared) or lies before his bedroom door. She does not come when i call. Which is very unlike her. This last about an hour and then she slowly becomes herself again.
Why does she do this? She knows where he is. She knows he cant reach her. Because she has been in my sons room many times. She likes it there as he is in his todler bed and cant reach her.