Previous Chapter - Read 10 weeks ahead on Patreon - Read the story so far on Royal Road
*
Chapter Thirteen - Bridge Over Swift Water (Part II)
​
The cottage beside the mill was not large, and its low ceilings were packed with all manner of cupboards, shelves, chairs and tables, pressed in against the walls in a maze of well-worn clutter. The result was a rather overcrowded space, and Ren was forced to take more care than usual so as not to bump into anything when they entered, but the hearth was broad, and the smell of cooking filled the air, so it did not take long to settle into a comfortable lull of pleasant talk around the table whilst they waited for their lunch. Ted's wife, a young, slender woman with dark, smiling eyes and shoulder-length fair hair, hurried about the fire busily, stirring and seasoning her pots with a methodical efficiency. A mug arrived for each of them (water for the boys, something stronger for Ted), and they talked for a time of small things, of the weather and the harvest, hoping for a mild winter, idle talk for idle minds. Even Trin seemed to have relaxed in the lazy firelight, though he was more quiet than usual. Ren thought of how scared he had been of the miller as a boy, remembering the fearsome man with his scarred neck and deep voice that had raked their dinner table at the farm with his dark eyes. It was a memory that fit the man beside him about as well as a child’s boot might fit its fathers. He started to feel a little guilty for avoiding him, whenever he visited the farm.
‘Heard you were heading to Overwood, last week.’
Ren blinked, looking up from the fire to find Ted watching him over his mug. He swallowed.
‘Took a cart to the market with grandfather.’
‘How is the old goat?’
Ren hesitated. ‘He’s… he’s well.’
Ted took a swig of his ale, not a little wistfully. ‘Used to live up there, you know. Overwood, I mean. After the soldiering, when the Black Breath took my Da. Coughed up his own lungs, ‘fore it got ‘im. Always was a scrapper. Not easy, losing someone like that.’
Ren swallowed, looking away, and the miller’s eyes softened.
‘Your Ma, too, boy, I know. Damn shame.’ he said apologetically, and Ren decided not to correct him. ‘Long time before I came out here, anyways.’
‘You fought in the war?’ Trin asked tentatively.
‘I fought in the rebellion, boy.’ Ted corrected him. ‘Was only one King, back then.’
Trin swallowed, looking at the floor.
‘But that was a long time ago now. Afore you were born, I reckon. Not a lot of work for soldiers in peacetime. Must have dug half the privies in Overwood before I earned the coin to up sticks.'
‘Earned?’ Werla snorted from beside the fire, cheeks dimpling. ‘Swindled, more like.’
Ren looked over at her. He had always thought her a little young for the old miller. He was well past forty, and with his weathered brow and ugly scar he was hardly an obvious match for a pretty young girl not long from twenty when they had wed a couple of summers back. He wondered, not for the first time, how they had fallen in together to begin with.
‘Now, don't be giving our guests the wrong idea.’ Ted told her, grinning, and the scar on his neck knotted. He turned back to the boys, holding up his hands earnestly. ‘An honest game of chance, I swear it. Northerner, he was, didn't know dice from a pebble.’
Ren and Trin both nodded sagely at his explanation, neither of them knowing one jot about dice, or gambling, or Northerners, for that matter. Werla swept to their rescue, appearing at the miller's shoulder and planting a kiss on his cheek.
‘Swindled.’ she said pointedly.
Ted smiled in spite of himself, shooing her away. She chuckled and turned back to the stew, humming softly to herself.
‘I hear there’s a lot of new folk in town.’ Ted said, turning back to the boys. ‘From up in the Stonelands.’
‘Enough to notice.’ Ren replied, thinking of the unpleasantness on the road. He frowned. ‘Unfriendly types.’
‘Been a while since I made it over that way. Couple of winters back, now.’ He frowned thoughtfully, then smiled in Werla’s direction. ‘A lot can change in two years, though.’
Werla looked up, flashing him a smile, then went back to her stew pot again, humming. The miller paused, scratching at his scar, then gave the boys a curious look. ‘So, then. What brings you out this far?’
Ren lowered his eyes, and Trin shifted uncomfortably beside him. Ted laughed, weathered face creasing into a smile.
‘Come now.’ he told them. ‘Can’t hardly turn you over to your grandfather from here, can I?’
Ren swallowed. ‘We were just out for a ride…’
‘Mister Derin told us never to cross the bridge.’ Trin finished for him, scowling. ‘He said it was too far from the farm. Not safe, he said. So of course that’s exactly where Ren has to go. We’ll be in for it when we get back!’
‘You didn't have to come, Trin.’ Ren told his friend patiently. He thought of his grandfather’s old map, carved with rivers and mountains and cities in dark ink. The Swiftwater wasn’t even big enough to merit a line, and the distance they’d travelled this morning wouldn’t be more than a nails-breadth.
‘Well you didn't tell me where we were going.’ Trin replied, fidgeting nervously. His fingers twisted around a stray tear in his shirt, tugging at it. ‘And besides... Hardly going to let you go running off on your own. Too risky. It's not safe this far from the farm, for you most of all, so they says.’
‘Who’s they?’ Ren asked, scowling.
‘Hector. Your grandfather. And Ma, too! Everyone!’
‘Your Ma doesn’t know everything, Trin.’
‘Still a damn sight more than you!’
‘Easy, boys.’ Ted was smiling, and his scarred neck twisted. ‘I wager the north side of the river is much the same as this one.’
Trin lowered his eyes, and his cheeks reddened. Ren thought of the shadows moving in the trees over the bridge, the way he had fallen when Ted had found him, and started to feel very foolish indeed. His thoughts had been dark, unpredictable, these past few days, since the trip to Overwood. He never had been a good sleeper, but his nights had been more restless than usual, too, his dreams a little thicker with shadows. Shadows with faces, and a hunchback with gold eyes to give them voice. Turning every doorway to the gloom of the fortuneteller’s tent, every flame the silver light of his brazier. He frowned at himself. Just rhymes and empty words. Best not to dwell on it.
‘Food's ready!’ Werla said suddenly from the fire, and a few moments later they had steaming bowls of fragrant brown stew sitting in front of them on the table. Ted carved up some slices of soft, pale bread for them to soak, and they set to eating it all in relative quiet for a time, content with good food and the soft warmth of the fire, and it was not long before all thoughts of the bridge, and the shadows beyond it, had gone entirely from Ren's mind. He found himself staring wearily into his cup, watching idly as the clear water rocked and rolled against the rim, listening to the rumble of the river outside.
‘Won’t turn to ale just by looking at it.’ Ted told him, and he looked up to find the miller looking at him curiously, taking another mouthful of bread. Trin was still quite engaged in his food, and Werla was sipping her mug contentedly, pale hair brushed back behind her ears.
‘What?’
‘Come, now, boy. What’s got you twisted?’ Ted asked, taking sip of his drink.
Ren hesitated. ‘I was thinking about the market.’ He said after a moment, looking up. It was true enough.
‘Ah. Town ain't what it used to be.’ Ted looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then began rubbing his thumb around the rim of his mug, staring at it. His young wife watched him with a slight frown. ‘All these unsavoury types arriving. You hear the talk, even out here. City folk, some of them, and worse. Heard… there’s talk of Brothers abroad, up in the Westmere. Out in the open, again, like.’ He pressed harder against the mug, thumb turning white. Werla reached out and pulled his hand away, folding it in her own and meeting his eye. Ted frowned, squeezing her hand, and the ugly scar on his neck gleamed. Trin had stopped eating.
‘But the Westmere’s a long way from here, and I ain’t one to be complaining. Got a good roof over my head, and a good living. A good woman, too, and might have a son of my own by next winter, Makers willing.’ He grinned at Werla, putting a hand to her belly, and she smiled, pulling it to her mouth and kissing it softly. ‘Reckon I’m a lucky man.’
Ren smiled at them both, lowering his eyes.
‘Say hello to your folks, for me, boy. Tell your old man I better see his arse over here before the snows.’
Some words of thanks, warm, earnest ones, and one or two more for goodbye, then they were homeward bound again, ponies snorting in the afternoon sun, promises of a return visit ringing in their ears. Ren was left with the distinct feeling that he had misjudged the old miller, scar and all. But it wasn’t long before his thoughts turned towards the rumours he had imparted from the Westmere, his white knuckles pressed against his mug. To Hector’s words in the shadow of the farm hill. To the ugly fortuneteller and his tent of oddities and silver fire. Words whispered in the dark. He’d not mentioned the encounter in the tent to anyone. Not even his grandfather. In truth, he’d been doing his best not to think about it at all, without much success. He frowned, hunching over his saddle.
A mask on fire.
Neither of them spoke for a long while. Trin, for his part, was busy trying to subtly feed Pol the stash of small treats he had smuggled away from the cottage, glancing over at Ren occasionally to make sure he hadn’t noticed. He had, of course, but there was little use in pointing it out.
‘Trin.’ Ren said once they had crested the hill, looking back towards the river-bound cottage in the distance. Trin started and stuck his hand quickly back into his pocket, hiding a scrap of bread.
‘What?'’
‘You heard what Ted said?’ Ren asked. ‘About Brothers?’
Trin frowned. ‘Suppose so.’
Ren was still looking back the way they had come. 'What do you make of it?'
‘Reckon he’s right.’ Trin shrugged. ‘Westmere’s a long way away.’
He hesitated, frowning.
‘But Hector’s been saying it for years. Overwood’s not what it used to be. Strange folk coming and going by night. No safe place for good folk that side of the Swiftwater. Brothers or no.’
‘Grandad says there haven’t been Black Hand this far south in years.’ Ren murmured, still looking back towards the river. ‘Not since we were born, at least.’
‘Wouldn’t pay it any mind. Plenty to worry about without them.’ Trin told him, giving him a serious look. ‘You’ve been acting up more, these past few weeks. Ever since the old man came calling.’
‘Have I?’ Ren scowled, shooting his friend a sideways glance.
‘You know what I think about him.’ Trin told him seriously. ‘Can’t be trusted, that one. And you can’t be taking so many risks. Not with your… Well, you know.’
‘Your ma tell you that, too?’
‘Don’t make it wrong.’ Trin grumbled, turning away in his saddle and trotting off south over the crest of the hill. Ren waited a moment longer, frowning to himself, then followed him reluctantly. The sound of the river was long gone behind him, but he caught one final glimpse the gleaming water before he shook the reins and disappeared finally over the brow of the hill, bound for home.

I’m trying to follow best practices per this article but what I am trying to do feels wrong. Creating profiles and then permissions for objects that are common across profiles then permission for objects that are unique? Then permission set groups to bundle things together. Am I misunderstanding what SF wants us to do? What used to be a simple, setup a few profiles is turning into a chore.

Hello guys I recently bought used PSP 1000 cause I bricked my old street model and yesterday decided to test how it works and then welp I noticed that joystick is literally going crazy and living it's own life so I can only play games that don't use it but use d-pad
First I thought bout using street joystick as replacement only to learn that these 2 models use conpletely different joysticks so I ordered new one(with few additional things to get free shipping) but still wanted to see how it looks and maybe clean it to see if it will help in any way to learn that screws on the side of analog stick were stuck
I managed to somehow remove lower one without damaging it or the console but the upper one won't move at all
I heard that you can use rubber bands or superglue to get rid of stripped screws but I'm not sure if it will help in my case but it might be worth a shot
So if it won't work what are my options to fix this issue without breaking shell or do I have to just fuck this shit pry open case and in worst case just buy a new shell?

Hi! I just took Day 1 of my 2-day Architecture Licensure Exams earlier and i feel extremely heavy.
My boyfriend was also taking the same exam at a different building and before going to our room assignments earlier, we saw another examinee preparing for the exam– & we got so inspired because he’s still going for the license and to become an architect!! For context, and most of us taking the exam are pandemic grads around 23-28 ish since its the common practice here in the PH. So it was kinda rare seeing someone relatively older than us trying to get that license the right way.
Anw my boyfriend told me that he went to the washroom around 10 am during the exam and he heard somebody screaming at the court then this dude was ushered out in an ambulance. My boyfriend and I got kinda sad, hoped he was ok and just ate dinner.
But rn im depressed bc i just feel like nothings going right. And then I found out that the man died from a heart attack.
I dont know what it is but its so eerie. Life is so short and life is so fragile and im so young but i feel so old. And i wanna do so much but i feel so small.
Why did that happen? He was just there. And we didnt talk but he inspired me. It felt so scary. Death.

throwaway account obviously, sorry about the gross name haha!!
so long story short, my older brother has been friends with this dude since forever, they grew up together etc and are pretty close. I’ve hung out more than a couple times with him and my brother, nothing one on one.
I’ve gotten to know him a little better and he is honestly so funny, attractive, and intelligent. he is single with occasional girlfriends but nothing serious.
we get along really well and can keep a conversation going despite the age difference. I know this is said a lot but I am mature for my age and a lot of people comment on it, even my parents. I am in college for a job close to graduating, and I already have a good job. I drive too.
he has a good career going as well.
so my brother has even joked, saying that if I was a little bit older he would try to get me and his friend together.
I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I am genuinely interested but I have no idea how to make a move without making things awkward… we text occasionally, and he is always happy to talk to me but I don’t want to overstep any boundaries, and I can’t tell if he’s just being friendly or if he would potentially date me. I want to ask my brother about it but I’m afraid if I do he will tell him. Idk.
I think I may be too young and he could never see me in that way, but who knows. I have massive feelings for him and I’m going to be upset once he finds a girlfriend which is why I want to make a move. I wish I was a bit older so the age gap stigma wasn’t being affected here.
Advice appreciated !:) tysm

Read the story so far on Royal Road - Series Page - Read 10 weeks ahead on Patreon
*
Chapter Thirteen - Bridge Over Swift Water (Part II)
The cottage beside the mill was not large, and its low ceilings were packed with all manner of cupboards, shelves, chairs and tables, pressed in against the walls in a maze of well-worn clutter. The result was a rather overcrowded space, and Ren was forced to take more care than usual so as not to bump into anything when they entered, but the hearth was broad, and the smell of cooking filled the air, so it did not take long to settle into a comfortable lull of pleasant talk around the ta-ble whilst they waited for their lunch. Ted's wife, a young, slender woman with dark, smiling eyes and shoulder-length fair hair, hurried about the fire busily, stirring and seasoning her pots with a methodical efficiency. A mug arrived for each of them (water for the boys, some-thing stronger for Ted), and they talked for a time of small things, of the weather and the harvest, hoping for a mild winter, idle talk for idle minds. Even Trin seemed to have relaxed in the lazy firelight, though he was more quiet than usual. Ren thought of how scared he had been of the miller as a boy, remembering the fearsome man with his scarred neck and deep voice that had raked their dinner table at the farm with his dark eyes. It was a memory that fit the man beside him about as well as a child’s boot might fit its fathers. He started to feel a little guilty for avoiding him, whenever he visited the farm.
‘Heard you were heading to Overwood, last week.’
Ren blinked, looking up from the fire to find Ted watching him over his mug. He swallowed.
‘Took a cart to the market with grandfather.’
‘How is the old goat?’
Ren hesitated. ‘He’s… he’s well.’
Ted took a swig of his ale, not a little wistfully. ‘Used to live up there, you know. Overwood, I mean. After the soldiering, when the Black Breath took my Da. Coughed up his own lungs, ‘fore it got ‘im. Always was a scrapper. Not easy, losing someone like that.’
Ren swallowed, looking away, and the miller’s eyes softened.
‘Your Ma, too, boy, I know. Damn shame.’ he said apologetically, and Ren decided not to correct him. ‘Long time before I came out here, anyways.’
‘You fought in the war?’ Trin asked tentatively.
‘I fought in the rebellion, boy.’ Ted corrected him. ‘Was only one King, back then.’
Trin swallowed, looking at the floor.
‘But that was a long time ago now. Afore you were born, I reckon. Not a lot of work for soldiers in peacetime. Must have dug half the privies in Overwood before I earned the coin to up sticks.'
‘Earned?’ Werla snorted from beside the fire, cheeks dimpling. ‘Swindled, more like.’
Ren looked over at her. He had always thought her a little young for the old miller. He was well past forty, and with his weathered brow and ugly scar he was hardly an obvious match for a pretty young girl not long from twenty when they had wed a couple of summers back. He wondered, not for the first time, how they had fallen in together to begin with.
‘Now, don't be giving our guests the wrong idea.’ Ted told her, grin-ning, and the scar on his neck knotted. He turned back to the boys, holding up his hands earnestly. ‘An honest game of chance, I swear it. Northerner, he was, didn't know dice from a pebble.’
Ren and Trin both nodded sagely at his explanation, neither of them knowing one jot about dice, or gambling, or Northerners, for that mat-ter. Werla swept to their rescue, appearing at the miller's shoulder and planting a kiss on his cheek.
‘Swindled.’ she said pointedly.
Ted smiled in spite of himself, shooing her away. She chuckled and turned back to the stew, humming softly to herself.
‘I hear there’s a lot of new folk in town.’ Ted said, turning back to the boys. ‘From up in the Stonelands.’
‘Enough to notice.’ Ren replied, thinking of the unpleasantness on the road. He frowned. ‘Unfriendly types.’
‘Been a while since I made it over that way. Couple of winters back, now.’ He frowned thoughtfully, then smiled in Werla’s direction. ‘A lot can change in two years, though.’
Werla looked up, flashing him a smile, then went back to her stew pot again, humming. The miller paused, scratching at his scar, then gave the boys a curious look. ‘So, then. What brings you out this far?’
Ren lowered his eyes, and Trin shifted uncomfortably beside him. Ted laughed, weathered face creasing into a smile.
‘Come now.’ he told them. ‘Can’t hardly turn you over to your grandfather from here, can I?’
Ren swallowed. ‘We were just out for a ride…’
‘Mister Derin told us never to cross the bridge.’ Trin finished for him, scowling. ‘He said it was too far from the farm. Not safe, he said. So of course that’s exactly where Ren has to go. We’ll be in for it when we get back!’
‘You didn't have to come, Trin.’ Ren told his friend patiently. He thought of his grandfather’s old map, carved with rivers and mountains and cities in dark ink. The Swiftwater wasn’t even big enough to merit a line, and the distance they’d travelled this morning wouldn’t be more than a nails-breadth.
‘Well you didn't tell me where we were going.’ Trin replied, fidget-ing nervously. His fingers twisted around a stray tear in his shirt, tug-ging at it. ‘And besides... Hardly going to let you go running off on your own. Too risky. It's not safe this far from the farm, for you most of all, so they says.’
‘Who’s they?’ Ren asked, scowling.
‘Hector. Your grandfather. And Ma, too! Everyone!’
‘Your Ma doesn’t know everything, Trin.’
‘Still a damn sight more than you!’
‘Easy, boys.’ Ted was smiling, and his scarred neck twisted. ‘I wa-ger the north side of the river is much the same as this one.’
Trin lowered his eyes, and his cheeks reddened. Ren thought of the shadows moving in the trees over the bridge, the way he had fallen when Ted had found him, and started to feel very foolish indeed. His thoughts had been dark, unpredictable, these past few days, since the trip to Overwood. He never had been a good sleeper, but his nights had been more restless than usual, too, his dreams a little thicker with shad-ows. Shadows with faces, and a hunchback with gold eyes to give them voice. Turning every doorway to the gloom of the fortuneteller’s tent, every flame the silver light of his brazier. He frowned at himself. Just rhymes and empty words. Best not to dwell on it.
‘Food's ready!’ Werla said suddenly from the fire, and a few mo-ments later they had steaming bowls of fragrant brown stew sitting in front of them on the table. Ted carved up some slices of soft, pale bread for them to soak, and they set to eating it all in relative quiet for a time, content with good food and the soft warmth of the fire, and it was not long before all thoughts of the bridge, and the shadows beyond it, had gone entirely from Ren's mind. He found himself staring wearily into his cup, watching idly as the clear water rocked and rolled against the rim, listening to the rumble of the river outside.
‘Won’t turn to ale just by looking at it.’ Ted told him, and he looked up to find the miller looking at him curiously, taking another mouthful of bread. Trin was still quite engaged in his food, and Werla was sip-ping her mug contentedly, pale hair brushed back behind her ears.
‘What?’
‘Come, now, boy. What’s got you twisted?’ Ted asked, taking sip of his drink.
Ren hesitated. ‘I was thinking about the market.’ He said after a moment, looking up. It was true enough.
‘Ah. Town ain't what it used to be.’ Ted looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then began rubbing his thumb around the rim of his mug, staring at it. His young wife watched him with a slight frown. ‘All these unsavoury types arriving. You hear the talk, even out here. City folk, some of them, and worse. Heard… there’s talk of Brothers abroad, up in the Westmere. Out in the open, again, like.’ He pressed harder against the mug, thumb turning white. Werla reached out and pulled his hand away, folding it in her own and meeting his eye. Ted frowned, squeezing her hand, and the ugly scar on his neck gleamed. Trin had stopped eating.
‘But the Westmere’s a long way from here, and I ain’t one to be complaining. Got a good roof over my head, and a good living. A good woman, too, and might have a son of my own by next winter, Makers willing.’ He grinned at Werla, putting a hand to her belly, and she smiled, pulling it to her mouth and kissing it softly. ‘Reckon I’m a lucky man.’
Ren smiled at them both, lowering his eyes.
‘Say hello to your folks, for me, boy. Tell your old man I better see his arse over here before the snows.’
Some words of thanks, warm, earnest ones, and one or two more for goodbye, then they were homeward bound again, ponies snorting in the afternoon sun, promises of a return visit ringing in their ears. Ren was left with the distinct feeling that he had misjudged the old miller, scar and all. But it wasn’t long before his thoughts turned towards the ru-mours he had imparted from the Westmere, his white knuckles pressed against his mug. To Hector’s words in the shadow of the farm hill. To the ugly fortuneteller and his tent of oddities and silver fire. Words whispered in the dark. He’d not mentioned the encounter in the tent to anyone. Not even his grandfather. In truth, he’d been doing his best not to think about it at all, without much success. He frowned, hunching over his saddle.
A mask on fire.
Neither of them spoke for a long while. Trin, for his part, was busy trying to subtly feed Pol the stash of small treats he had smuggled away from the cottage, glancing over at Ren occasionally to make sure he hadn’t noticed. He had, of course, but there was little use in pointing it out.
‘Trin.’ Ren said once they had crested the hill, looking back towards the river-bound cottage in the distance. Trin started and stuck his hand quickly back into his pocket, hiding a scrap of bread.
‘What?'’
‘You heard what Ted said?’ Ren asked. ‘About Brothers?’
Trin frowned. ‘Suppose so.’
Ren was still looking back the way they had come. 'What do you make of it?'
‘Reckon he’s right.’ Trin shrugged. ‘Westmere’s a long way away.’
He hesitated, frowning.
‘But Hector’s been saying it for years. Overwood’s not what it used to be. Strange folk coming and going by night. No safe place for good folk that side of the Swiftwater. Brothers or no.’
‘Grandad says there haven’t been Black Hand this far south in years.’ Ren murmured, still looking back towards the river. ‘Not since we were born, at least.’
‘Wouldn’t pay it any mind. Plenty to worry about without them.’ Trin told him, giving him a serious look. ‘You’ve been acting up more, these past few weeks. Ever since the old man came calling.’
‘Have I?’ Ren scowled, shooting his friend a sideways glance.
‘You know what I think about him.’ Trin told him seriously. ‘Can’t be trusted, that one. And you can’t be taking so many risks. Not with your… Well, you know.’
‘Your ma tell you that, too?’
‘Don’t make it wrong.’ Trin grumbled, turning away in his saddle and trotting off south over the crest of the hill. Ren waited a moment longer, frowning to himself, then followed him reluctantly. The sound of the river was long gone behind him, but he caught one final glimpse the gleaming water before he shook the reins and disappeared finally over the brow of the hill, bound for home.

1. Researchers from Snap present SnapFusion, a new approach that, for the first time, unlocks running text-to-image diffusion models on mobile devices in less than 2 seconds .
2. StabilityAI adds a new feature Uncrop to their generative AI tool, Clipdrop. It creates AI-generated backgrounds to automatically expand any image using Stable Diffusion XL as a foundation model. It’s free to try in the Clipdrop web app, with no need to log in.
3. Google has updated Bard with a new technique, implicit code execution. This lets Bard run code in the background when it sees math-related prompts, making word problems and math calculations about 30% more accurate. Bard can now also directly export any table it creates to Google Sheets.
4. Microsoft develops Orca - a 13-billion parameter model outperforming smaller open-source models and at times equaling or outperforming ChatGPT, though it lags behind GPT-4.
5. Google presents and open-sources Visual Captions, a system that uses spoken words to add real-time images to video chats.
6. AlphaDev, Google DeepMind’s AI, discovers small sorting algorithms from scratch that outperformed human benchmarks. These algorithms have been added to the LLVM standard C++ sort library. This is the first time an algorithm designed by AI has been added to this library. AlphaDev also discovered a new hashing algorithm, now released in the open-source.
7. Adobe opens its Firefly generative AI model to enterprise customers, allowing them to customize the model with their own branded assets.
8. HuggingChat, the open-source alternative to ChatGPT by HuggingFace added a web search feature.
9. Tafi, the owner of Daz 3D announces the launch of a text-to-3D character engine, that will allow users to create high-quality custom 3D characters using simple text prompts. Tafi is using a massive 3D dataset derived from its proprietary Genesis character platform.
10. Runway’s much-awaited Gen-2 for text-to-video is available now with free triaL.
11. Europe wants platforms to label AI-generated content to fight disinformation..
12. Google presents SQuId, a 600M parameter regression model that uses the SQuId dataset and cross-locale learning to evaluate speech synthesis quality in multiple languages and describe how natural it sounds.
13. Together released the v1 versions of the RedPajama-INCITE family of models, allowing commercial use. RedPajama-INCITE-7B-Instruct is the highest scoring open model on HELM benchmarks, outperforming Falcon-7B. RedPajama, is a project to create leading open-source models, and it reproduced LLaMA training dataset of over 1.2 trillion tokens in April.
14. Wordpress launches Jetpack AI Assistant for generating blog posts, detailed pages, structured lists and comprehensive tables from within the Wordpress editor.
15. Google Research presents StyleDrop: a method for generation of images from text prompts in any style described by a single reference image. StyleDrop is powered by Muse, a text-to-image generative vision transformer.

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Hello, I am a 22 years old female. I have four siblings, 1 brother who is 1 year older than me and he has cerebral palsy(he is the blessing in our lives) and 3 elder sisters of which 2 middle ones are twins and the eldest one is married. So we sisters are in the field of medicine and all my elder sisters are graduated but I am the only one not graduated yet and we all are preparing for exams to pursue medicine in foreign countries and none of us is working at the moment. We all sisters live together in a house far away from our parents because of education and my parents can’t move with us because my father built his business in that small city 20 years ago so that he can support us for our future as we all are planning to move out of our country due to bad situation of our country in general and it’s overall very expensive as we are 4 and foreign medical exams are super expensive hence moving will totally ruin our financial status. So the problem here with us that we sisters fight a lot. Specially my middle twin sisters. Both of them are 26. My eldest sister is married but she is currently living with us because her husband is in another country so she is staying with us till she gets done with her exams and stuff. I basically study in a medical school which is in another city than my sisters or parents live in but I have summer vacations going on that is why I chose to live with my sisters for my vacations. The problem with us is that we are happy in general with our studies and stuff but there happen to be a lot of fights between my sisters. Like I Just moved a few weeks back with them but the fights has been going on since we were kids. There are times that we are happy together but when the fights that happen are so big that they come to physical abuse. Mostly the fight includes one of my middle sisters. Let’s say she’s twin A. Now since we are growing up she has always been jealous of people like people who she used to study with because they get higher grades and she always all the time says that people compare her with her twin sister Twin B. Twin A is average looking and average in grades and she generally fights with people and has no friends at all. While Twin B is pretty, slim, well mannered and have really good friends. Now all of my siblings I have been always told that I am the smartest one and I have good confidence and I have even travelled outside of the country few times alone hence I have good contacts and I am generally friendly with everyone but I am average looking. Now the comparison Twin A talks about is mostly with Twin B. It is with me as well but with Twin B is even with small things. Now for example if we have few people coming to our house and me and Twin B are usually talkative so if any person talks to me or talks to Twin B then Twin A throws tantrums that people always do that they talk to you and not to me they always do comparison. Twin A always says to Twin B that people talk to you because you are pretty. Now in general we belong to a good, decent family and we try to make things up. We always(specially me because she listens to me) to calm down the situation whenever we or they fight but the situation goes so much out of hand that Twin A starts verbal and physical abuse. Twin A beats Twin B. Twin B comes back with replies too but she never tries to defend herself. Twin A out of aggression would through phones or laptops or anything around her. I always say to Twin A that you are better in a lot of things in which Twin B and I are not and much more things like not everyone will talk to us but one time she would agree to me and then the other time she would start fighting again. Now let me go to little back story of Twin A. Twin A was good student in general when she was young. As twins they have always been with each other and even after all these years they are together because they are in the same profession and now preparing for the exams of the same country. Now Twin B was average in school back then but Twin A was very good but when the time of MCAT came, Twin B got selected and Twin A did not. Then Twin B got into a medical school in which she got selected because of good scores while Twin A did not get selected into the merit one due to very low scores in MCAT but there is system of self selection in my country where you would have to pay 4x extra money to get into a med school. As Twin A did not get selected she asked my father to get her into self selection one and then my father agreed she went into a 5 year medical school but the school was different from the one Twin B was into. Now when Twin A got into med school she faced a lot. She got diagnosed with religious OCD and we all sisters helped her through that we used to go with her to the doctor help her with stuff but the terms between Twin A and Twin B did not get any better. When Twin B got into med school on her own and she got separated from Twin A she saw a different perspective of life. She always said that she is glad she got out of Twin B’s negativity, comparison, jealousy and abusive environment. Twin A when she was in med school used to get into a lot of fights with people, she used to trust other people and give them money and she had a lot of issues with her roommates and people in the University as well. After 5 years both of them came out of their med school and started to live together because both are going for the same future path and they were living in the same city and it is generally not really safe for girls to live alone in my country and being from small city and being girls my parents are generally very much concerned about us. Now it has been 1.5 years since they have moved together there has been never a single day on which they had not fought. Twin B took her one foreign medical exam and passed although she started late then Twin A but she has to take 3 more however twin A has not taken any exam yet because she has not been prepared and she has very low confidence. But as I have 2 months off from my med school I have decided that I will be taking the exam as well so that I could get done it soon. Now Twin A and I have our exams in 1 month and Twin A is still not getting off of these fights and comparison and I am sick of it. My parents are not helping a lot because if they do anything Twin A then blocks them or goes out of the house without telling anyone or stuff like that. However we other three sisters are in good terms but Twin A always starts tantrums about comparisons when we never do comparison. If there is anything that I have then the same exact thing my other sister has. If I have been allowed to study for foreign exams then my other sisters are also given the same. But all this negativity and comparison is just killing my peace I mean I am already like dead and I have my exam in 1 month. We can not tell anything to my father because Twin A never listens to him and my father is already very stressed because we lost our grandfather a few months back. I don’t know where I should seek for help but it has been really hard for all of us. I just want to get done with my exams and move into another country and start earning but it will probably take me another 1.5 years. I don’t know what to do.

My (38f) husband (41m) and I have been together for 21 years. Over the years we had an amazing sex life. Like 3-5 times a week, every single week. For 20 years.
In the middle of 2022 we embarked on a journey that had us living in very close quarters with our kids, so we slowed down to probably once, maybe twice a week at most. Then in February we were back in a large house, but something has changed. Since Feb we have had sex maybe 4 times. And it's been crappy each time. No foreplay, no caring if I finish first, he initiated one of those 4 times.
I've been asking what's up since February. At first it was you are not very nice to me. So I completely stopped any negativity, never nagged, pretty much only positivity around him and his actions. No sex.
So I ask again he says I don't do enough to seduce him. So out comes the sexy underwear, half nude pictures, playing with his d randomly, kissing up on his neck, playful talk. Still no sex.
I ask again, he says he's been tired and unmotivated recently so he doesn't want to do it. And the times we did I wasn't happy about it and didn't hide it. Obviously. We've been together our entire adult lives I couldn't hide my disappointment if my life depended on it, and never had to before so why now?
Last night we're sitting there watching the hockey game. The team he's cheering on is losing, so he's all Fuck and I jokingly said are you going to? He just gives me a look. So I said I've been asking over and over, and you just keep ignoring it. He says well stop asking, try something else. At that point I just stopped talking.
Like what am I supposed to try? Anyone been in the similar situation? I am so sick of feeling unwanted and I don't even know why. Physically I am good looking, I'm fit and give great head so it's not like I don't do things to satisfy him or got fat or anything, I've basically looked the same for the last 20ish years.
Any thoughts?

Hello.
Me and my boyfriend are together now for a while. But I have very bad trust issues from my past. He knows it very well and always assures me face to face that he would never do something like that. But now I am doubting. While I am typing this I have tears rolling down my face.
Yesterday his cousin came to him. He lives in an other city 2 hours away. He said that he would slee at his place. Okey fine. When I messaged him, I would not get an answer. Until the third call, he then quick said: yeah we go to our other cousin in another city. It was already 22.30 and the last train back would be 24.00. So i found it very strange.
I asked him why he didn’t said that from himself to me. He answered that he’s with his cousin and I should not be so fast with sending messages. Okey fine. He got mad at me for my behaviour. But here is why I got irritated: in our relationship communication is very important, especially because of both out history’s. He made me a promise that he is working on communication. But why does he not answer when he is away? Why isn’t he honest and fair with me?
He sweared to me that he would message me when he arrives home and when he would sleep. But guess what? I got a text at 23.55 saying: yeah am sleeping here (in the other city). I said oh nice have fun. Then I didn’t hear anything of him no more.
The next day I message him why he act like this and he became mad at me? Tonight we would have a date at 20.00 he agreed with it. And now he is saying yeah I cant make it i am staying here. ?!!???
What do i need to do? I am crying my eyes out and dont know what to do. Please give me advice.

Hello everyone. So I decided to upload a few of my important documents and scans to onedrive so that they are not available on my device in case it gets lost or stolen. I also have lots of photos and decided to upload them to onedrive to free up some space. The problem is that when i turn off my wifi, some of these files (that were previously clicked and opened) are still accessible even when the wifi and data is off. However the files that were never clicked or opened previously are not accessible. So my question is, whenever we click a file on onedrive (and I’m talking about the ios app, not windows or mac), does it automatically download and store them on the device locally? Because from my experience it seems to be. If yes, is there a way to stop it from doing this? Because otherwise whats the point of using a cloud service? Thanks

About a year ago, I shared we were no longer nevermets, after flying to a third country and spending a week together. Things went really well (phew) and we knew we wanted to do it again.
88 days later, I flew across the ocean to her country. It was my first time going that way, and I had a crappy sleep on the plane, but it all went away the moment I got there. I was *very* tired, and was excited to see a dog driver, only to quickly remember steering wheels are on the other side.
We had an amazing time together, trying different restaurants, doing touristy things, hanging out, cuddling and holding each other, watching TV and just walking around holding hands. It felt like "us" in the real world. We even got to catch Hamilton, which was a huge thing for me. There was also a concert for a band I've wanted to see since I was a kid! We went on a really cool hike, and celebrated our anniversary (a bit late) at a really fancy place.
137 days later, I came back and we got to spend Valentine's Day together. We also got to celebrate her birthday by eating a ridiculous amount of fancy sushi, went bowling, went to a spa, went for walks, ate and drank our hearts out, but mostly just existed next to each other. It was less of a vacation mode, and more real life, as we took turns cooking and chipping mugs in the sink washing dishes (sorry, love 😬).
We are now waiting to see each other again, this time in my country. It'll be 202 days since we last saw each other, so we are beyond ready for it.
I'm posting this because we don't always get to hear the good things in this sub. We get a lot of posts with doubts, breakups, or request for advice in bad situations. We were obviously nervous the first time meeting, and we've had our fair share of opportunities to work on understanding each other better, but things are still going well.
​

I am an aspiring cricketer from India and I am U 19. I am considerably a good player with lots of scores under my belt and a decent technique. Recently I made the decision to change my academy to a new one in hopes of better opportunities but in my new academy I have been starved of opportunities barely getting any chance but in those very few chances also I am proving my self but still I am being starved of opportunity. I am or was an opening batsman in my previous academy but here I have been turned into an all rounder and despite many requests they are still forcing me. Another issue is my parents questioning my ability to play because of my very few opportunities I am trying to explain but end up getting lectured. I understand their POV but I am lost and don't know what to do.

Booked a flight for a weekend trip. First flight of the day, direct flight, with no bad weather in the way. Plane was there when I arrived at the airport, obviously an hour before my flight. Boarding time rolls around and nothing is happening. By the time we are suppose to take off they announce there’s a delay. 30 minutes go by, there’s another hour delay. Another 30 minutes go by and they add another 30 minutes. No other flights are canceled and there’s no reason other than staffing or mechanical error. The fact they can’t make a direct flight arrive on time makes it highly unreliable. I’ll count e to fly delta because even with their thousands of flights going into Atlanta every day, I still make my destinations on time every time

Hi everyone, I have a question...
In 2021, I worked in Kyoto, Japan (on a work visa) and successfully passed my driving test, obtaining a Japanese driver's license valid until 2024. However, in 2022, I had to return to my home country and leave Japan permanently (my residence card has been hollowed out during departure).
Now, I have a job offer in Hokkaido and plan to go back to Japan around August 2023. I intend to drive and buy a car. Here are my questions:

1. Will my Japanese driving license still be valid and usable until it expires?
2. Since the address on the driving license card is the one I used to live at Kyoto, can I change this address? Is it possible to do it in Hokkaido? Where can I go to change the address (for correspondence purposes with the police)?
3. Do I need to use the starter sign on my car again? Probably will be counted as a beginner again after re-entering Japa, not sure with this too...

Thank you!

Hi there! I recognize these are seemingly unrelated topics however the small business I am taking over is still in the dinosaur era. We have an honor system when it comes to time cards and it is very obviously not working anymore.
We have recently had issues with people looking at other people's time cards and because of the differences in the job descriptions hours are different but it's leading to problems with comparing, morale as well as privacy. Even more recently we have had altercations because of this, thus the need for HR training.
SO. I am in need of 1) a recommended time card system that is purely digital that sends data to an excel sheet so no one can see anyone else's time except our accountant / payroll officer. Preferably one without a monthly subscription. We only have 5 employees so we don't need anything too complicated. 2) Online HR training for admin who have no experience besides basic human courtesy.
We have been open for 21 years but the business is changing we so we must adapt especially for new hires.
Thank you in advance!

Hi all,
on Dec 19th I launched DataAnalyst.com - this is the fifth (May) update of hopefully many more to come.
Want to make sure I document the journey, and keep myself honest, so each month I will be making a post about the statistics, progress, some thoughts and what are the next steps I want to be focusing on.
While the main purpose for the post is to bring everyone along on the journey, I do think that members of SideProject might benefit from the site, especially those looking to start their first online project.
If it's not something that belong here, have absolutely no issues to take the post down and / or keep the updates to a different subreddit.
So, just a reminder that early stages vision is to become the #1 job board for data analysts - hand-picking interesting data analyst job opportunities across industries.
Let's dive right in:  

Statistics update

-	January	February	March	April	May
Number of jobs posted	Total: 208 (US)	Total: 212 (US)	Total: 207 (US)	Total: 153 (US)	Total: 140 (US)
Paid posts	0	0	0	0	0
Visitors	795	3,267	3,003	4,892	5,203
Apply now clicks	634	2,354	2,898	4,051	4,476
Avg. session duration	3min 52sec	3min 53sec	3min 39sec	3min 44sec	3min 10sec
Pageviews	4100	16,300	15,449	26,291	28,755
Avg. time on page	1min 35sec	1min 46sec	1min 45sec	1min 39sec	1min 26sec
Returning visitors	17.7%	22.4%	23.9%	23.8%	22.2%
Google Impressions	503	5,500	9,430	28,300	45,900
Google Clicks	47	355	337	1,880	2,070
Newsletter subs (total)	205	416	600	918	1,239
Newsletter open rate (48hrs)	61%	67%	56%	56%	50%

1. General Observations

Stats

DataAnalyst.com has been online for just over 5 months and we've brought over 1,250 hand curated data analyst jobs onto the site - all of them including a salary range.
There's now 1,200+ people subscribed to the newsletter, and I can't thank you enough for your support and for joining us on the journey.
While in April the site grew to just over 5,000 monthly visitors across 26,000 pageviews, in May we've been able to cross the 5,000 visitors yet again, with over 28,000 pageviews - not only that, we registered approximately 4,500 data analyst applications being started from the site!
Additionally, I've also had multiple people reaching out, both in comment section of my previous updates, but also in DMs, sharing that they have found the site to be extremely useful in their job search, and that they were able to get interviews and onboard new roles through the site - I absolutely love this, and even if the venture doesn't end up being commercially successful, I'm super happy to hear that it has indeed helped people when needed.
Google impressions are over 50% up, albeit the amount of people clicking through to the site remained flat.
On the positive note - the site has finally ranking for all the major target keywords:
"data analyst jobs / data analyst job / data analyst / data analytics jobs"
Pumped about this, as having multiple channels is crucial to long term growth and protecting the site and traffic from algorithm updates.

Things that happened

a) Expired Listings - There's feedback regarding some of the jobs on the site already expiring and leading to non-existing listings. I am trying to come up with a solution where visitors would be able to upvote/downvote and thus highlighting status for everyone else. For now, I went through job listings and marked those roles no longer open as "Expired".
b) Product Hunt launch - Early last month I decided to share DataAnalyst on Product Hunt. The idea wasn't necessarily to try and rank up to the top, but mainly get the site out there, and gain a backlink from ProduntHunt that's going to help the site's authority. Overall the voting process is extremely cumbersome, but we did end up with 36 upvotes which was more than I expected.

Expecting a summer slump

With summer, there's typically very little hiring happening / it's extremely slow as people are taking well deserved time off. I'm expecting activity on the site to decrease, and my main goal for this period is getting together a plan of action to start reaching out to companies in Q4 and Q1, educate them about the site, the value proposition and hopefully get a few partnerships on the books.
What that will look like, I honestly have no idea, but experiment, iterate and go again.
Some of you may have noticed that I've also recently launched BusinessAnalyst.com - where I'm looking to replicate step by step what I've done over the last 5 months with DataAnalyst. The overall idea is to create a network of sites, benefiting from the same infastructure, serving and helping different career paths, and making a collaboration with organisations much more appealing (afterall, most companies who hire for data analysts also look for business analysts and vice versa). Arguably, this might not make much sense seeing that DA still hasn't brought any revenue in, but on the other hand, I can reuse the whole tech stack and structures already in place, halve my cost per project, while doubling the surface area to catch me some luck. Anyways, how this will work out is a case study for another time.

2. The Salary Guide

On a monthly basis, we've been utilising the data available to developing and sharing Market Insights - a deep dive into the data analyst job market, where we can have a look at the job openings and provide you all with insights on the latest hiring trends in the United States.
With these insights I'm trying to bring answers to questions such as: Which industries are hiring the most? Are we seeing any salary increases? And what about the remote working trend?
With that in mind, I'm excited to share that the first five months of insights were consolidated, and the Salary Guide has now been published.
The data analyst salary guide provides the overview of salaries in various industries - and now also shows a more detailed view on each industry page, with a deep dive into how much entry level, senior and lead data analysts can earn depending on their experience.
This is only based on job opportunities on the site, and no external data sources are utilised. The plan is to have it updated quarterly, with the next update in September.
For the US, we've also released the May edition of Market Insights, you can see the full report here.

3. "Day in the Life" - a series of interviews with data analysts sharing their experience, thoughts and advice.

The third interview from our series has been published. In these interviews, we aim to share stories and experiences about the route to becoming a data analyst, keeping up with the skillset, recommendations to aspiring data analysts and much more.
Tisha, who is a data analyst at Tesla, has shared some fantastic insights, and I'd love to highlight couple of my favourite quotes from the interview.
On what she loves about being a data analyst:
"For me, the most exciting aspect of being a data analyst is the opportunity to unlock meaningful insights from vast amounts of data. I enjoy the challenge of uncovering patterns, identifying trends, and translating complex data into actionable recommendations. The ability to make a tangible impact on business outcomes and help organizations drive growth is incredibly rewarding."
On her advice for those aspiring to enter the industry, she shares 6 points that everyone should focus on:

1. Acquire a strong foundation in SQL. This is an essential tool for data analysis and manipulation.
2. Familiarize yourself with data analytics tools like Tableau, Power BI, or Alteryx. Demonstrating proficiency in these tools can enhance your employability.
3. Seek out internships, projects, or volunteer opportunities where you can gain hands-on experience with real-world datasets and analytical challenges.
4. Continuously enhance your skills by staying updated with the latest trends and best practices in the field. Online courses, webinars, and industry conferences can be valuable resources.
5. Showcase your skills and projects through a portfolio or personal website. This allows potential employers to see your capabilities and the impact you can make.
6. Network with professionals in the data industry through events, online communities, and LinkedIn. Building connections can lead to valuable opportunities and mentorship.

We've also touched upon the Question of the Year: Is AI/Chat GPT a threat to data analysts?
Highly recommend reading the full interview.

Things in the pipeline

• New data analyst jobs, added daily
• Actually launching the weekly newsletter with the pick of best jobs directly to your inbox (yes, I know....)
• Monthly US data analyst market insights
• Improving the overall site experience (this one is a never ending activity)
• Continuing to bring you Data Analysts across their experience levels, to share tips, tricks and their thoughts
• Keep breaking a feature that would allow visitors to report an expired job posting

3 ways you could help

1. Looking for a new challenge? Check out the website - I'm adding new jobs daily
   
2. Looking to hire a data analyst to your team? Do you know anyone looking to hire? Shoot me a message on Reddit (or [email protected]) and I'll upgrade your first listing for free!
   
3. As I mentioned, we have an ongoing "Day of a Data Analyst" series. For those of you who are open to do an email based interview about your data analyst career journey, please just send me a message and we'll organise something - would love to get you featured and share your experience with our readers!
   

If you have any questions, concerns, come across glitches - please just reach out, happy to chat.
Thank you all again, and see you in a month.
Alex

Oh my! Thank you for reaching out and sharing your story. That must have been tough to experience. Our mission is to provide a companion that makes people feel better. Unfortunately we are still in the testing phase but we plan to roll out version history for all in about a month. I suggest you stay off the app during testing. We will make an announcement when the update happens. Here is a code to add a month to your subscription for the time lost as a paying customer.

Note: My life is not in immedieate danger. I am still far from taking action.
TL;DR - 19M anxiety disorder, depression for a very long time, no change for the better despite my psychologist telling me i'm on the right path to getting better.
Everyday, i go to a job i don't see a point working. Up until lately i'd laugh when someone told me "Money doesn't buy happiness" and now i regret everytime i said that's not true. Everyone else my age seems to be doing well, all my older brothers and my twin sister have lovers, developed careers or education plans while i failed school, had to go to work early and now i'll have to work and study.
Thing is, i'm becoming increasingly more distressed over time. No matter what i do. One step forward, two steps back. Love life? Non existent, no matter how much i try. A purpose? None. There are things i want to do. Ever since i remember all i've ever wanted was to have a companion, someone who would love me and who i would love. It just never works out, and honsestly i can't see much point to keep on living because of that.
My psychologist told me that i'm on a good path to recovery. I had invasive thoughts whenever i saw couples, i felt worthless and now i'm choked by the fear of being left alone. My brothers all moved out. My baby twin sister finished school with amazing marks, and now goes to college, after that she's going to find a job, leave me, my parents are going to die and i'll be lone as a finger. I don't want to be alone.
There's barely anything that makes me get up in the morning to come back home, and there's less of that every day. I don't know what to do anymore. Working out doesn't work. Taking care of myself helps temporaily. Am i just weak genetically? Should i just get a darwin award?

I'd like to start by letting everyone know that the genre is Fantasy Epic, and that this is a long prologue at 6,414 words. This prologue serves a purpose as it takes care of a lot of my setting and plot setup. It also gives the reader a fair bit of worldbuilding without making it too much of an info dump (talking to you Robert Jordan ;P).
I've had several people beta read this for me and gotten a lot of positive feedback. The prolbem for me is that these were all people I know very well on a personal level. Several have made comparisons to Chronicles of Narnia or Lord of the Rings as far as how well the full book is written. The problem is, friends and family can often have a bias and make things seem better than they really are. So, now I want to do a test run in the real world and see what people who don't know me think. Is it as engaging and compelling as they have made me hope that it is?
I'm basically wanting to take a page from a couple authors I admire and follow the ABC rule for critiquing. Please let me know of any point where you thought it was Awesome, Boring or Confusing. I know prologues aren't everyone's favorite thing, but this has basically been written like a novella for the main story as it foreshadows a lot of things leading all the way into book four.
————————————————————————————
PROLOGUE
ARCHIVE INFINITUM
October 14, 844 (Alt-Future)
"Welcome back to the Archive, Master Jonathan."
"Thank you, Charles. It's good to be back. Have you noticed anything interesting in the Physical Realm?"
"I have not, sir. Do you require any assistance today?"
"Thank you, but no. I'm only here to revisit a passage within the history of the Order. Shortly after, I'll depart for the reunion at the Tower."
"Excellent, sir. I'll leave you to it."
Jonathan emerged from the ether and walked through the Archive doors. Inhaling deeply, he breathed in the familiar scents of dusty cleanliness that can only truly be found in a place of learning. The lights reflected off the floor's white marble surface, casting a glow that evenly lit every corner of the large chamber. Even so, the room still felt cavernous to him, as if he were a galleon amidst the vastness of the ocean.
Jonathan appeared to be in his early to mid forties. Though, with the way he carried himself and the spring in his step, he seemed closer to his late twenties. His hair was shoulder length and dark gray. He wore bifocals though he hadn't needed them since his ascension, and dressed with a refined sense of style.
His gray eyes were by far his most interesting feature, though. They were the only hint of how old he truly was and the many adventures and travesties he'd witnessed. Regardless, how old he was didn't matter as age had long since lost its meaning for him. After all, being an immortal tended to give a man new priorities in life.
As he strolled across the room, a lift descended from the tower's heights. The square platform had waist high rails around its perimeter. It floated through the air showing no sign of a suspension system to raise or lower it. This was accomplished by a magical enchantment that allowed it to levitate and dart about the room at mind numbing speeds. As he stepped up onto the platform's dais, it landed on the floor in front of him. He took a position at its center, then, after folding his arms behind his back, mentally willed it to take him to floor eight hundred forty four.
It rose off the ground, gradually gaining speed until it was a hundred or so feet in the air. At that point, the platform took off like a rocket. The thought of what these speeds would do to him if this were outside the Realm of Intellect crossed his mind, making him chuckle nervously. He knew he had to be moving close to six hundred miles per hour.
Now, let me tell you a bit about Jonathan's pet project, The Archive Infinitum. The Archive is a magical structure he'd designed shortly after the cataclysm that nearly wiped out the human race. An event most of you now refer to as the Night of Burning Skies. That same event is also what gave us the powers we now refer to as magic.
Shortly after obtaining his ascension, he learned that science's multiverse theories were close to how reality really worked. There are an infinite number of parallel universes, or branching timelines, that coexist simultaneously. What was different is that each universe shared a common six realm structure. The Physical Realm, the Realm of Intellect, the Dominion of Shadows, the Plane of Enlightenment, the Land of the Forgotten, and the Ether.
He built the Archive within the Realm of Intellect so it wouldn't be bound by the laws of physics or time as we know them. Once the structure was anchored in place, he could set most of those parameters himself. What he didn't realize was that making it here would have an unintended, though not unwelcome, side effect. The structure's size, shape, and architectural style could change by anyone who entered it.
When someone enters the Archive, it ascertains their strength of mind and will. Suppose the individual's mental fortitude is deemed stronger than that of the other occupants. In that case, the appearance will adjust to one that best serves and appeals to that individual. This could become unsettling for the occupants already inside the first few times it happened. That being said, it has no effect on the contents atop the shelves or where you're located within the structure. For Jonathan, it shared an uncanny resemblance to the George Peabody Library, though on a much grander scale.
The lift stopped after a brief ride, and Jonathan stepped off. He resumed his stride, passing row after row of the cherry wood bookcases. There were hundreds of rows and thousands of tomes and scrolls in each. As a scholar, he'd spent most of his existence here. But, even so, he knew there would always be something more to be gleaned from their pages.
Today was a day of remembrance. Of celebration. Of mourning. It was the anniversary of the end of a war that had lasted ten thousand years. With the death of one individual, a light of hope was given to many. For others, it was a bittersweet victory that left a void in their hearts. He'd come here today to revisit a passage that would return him to that fateful day. Reliving the event which granted them this peace, and once again, paying his respects to a dear friend.
"Ah, yes, yes, yes. Here we go."
The plaque on the side of the bookcase read, Row DD, Column 15. Now that he'd found the right one, he began scanning the shelves. It wasn't long before his hand landed on the tome he sought.
"Here it is." He pulled it down from the shelf. "My word. Has it truly been fifteen hundred years since I glanced through these pages?"
Looking at the cover, he chuckled. The combined magic of the Archive and the Realm had created a thin layer of dust. Giving it the feeling of something ancient and lost to time. Raising it to his lips, he blew the dust away, causing the magic to dissipate as it fell to the floor. He pulled open the cover and rifled through the pages. The section he stopped at contained the account of Rexinon the Prophet's final words.
Summoning his divine magics, he channeled a spell into the tome. The words that once filled the passages began to fade away, leaving only the blank pages, which now bled a blueish gray smoke. The soft glow of the lights against the floor diminished as the smoke spread. As the darkness grew more substantial, luminescent spheres and arcs of brilliant blues and crimson could be seen dancing about its surface like lightning.
The ground trembled beneath his feet, and the smokey haze took on a more stormlike appearance. All around him, the air started to feel heavy, and the taste of dust and sea salt filled his mouth. A gentle rain began to fall, and the room's remaining lights winked out. If not for the increasing flashes of lightning, he would've been left in total darkness. But even this was not a comfort, as those flashes cast shadows against the storm's ever swirling walls. Many of which appeared to be dark things that should never be seen in the light.
The storm's intensity grew, bringing disorienting cracks of thunder and wind whipping around him. It assaulted his senses and seemed to have an almost vengeful purpose. That meant he had to constantly focus on the spell, bracing himself against the onslaught. If he failed, it would kill him without question.
Some of the shadows began to take on a physical form with details beyond what the walls could offer them. He watched as an hourglass tumbled end over end, circling him before it returned to the storm. A moment later, a blazing fireplace and mantle emerged but produced neither light nor heat. Finally, a door engraved with the crest of the Order appeared. These images were ones he'd expected to see for this particular passage, and so came as no surprise. However, when a fourth image appeared, he was caught off guard.
Although it was normal for three images to accompany this spell, an occasional fourth spoke of prophecy. He focused intently on this final image. It showed twelve people standing in a circle; one of them was coated in blood. Two others were bound by chains. One a man, the other a woman.
He looked closer at the man and realized it was Godric. His eyes opened wide as he tried to decipher the meaning behind the image. Only a few moments passed while he speculated, but it was a few moments too many. Disaster struck, and too late, he realized his mistake. He'd lost focus, and now the storm would surely take him.
Hurricane force winds and debris tore at his clothes, quickly turning them into rags. One powerful gust slammed into his side as if he'd been struck by a car, knocking him off his feet. The storm swelled with even greater ferocity. It threatened to consume him this time, and he wondered if it would finally cost him.
Rain and hail pelted his face and body, while dust and sand stung his eyes. As he wiped away the grit, a bolt of lightning struck before him, temporarily blinding him. He got to his hands and knees, gasping for breath as the storm continued to beat him relentlessly.
Steeling himself against the pain, he rose to his feet. As fast as he could manage, he began casting mental defenses and barriers to protect his mind from the horrific assault. He bellowed in defiance of the storm, "I will not let it end this way! I refuse!" One defense after another was laid upon his person, until finally, he succeeded. The winds died to a breeze as the rain became little more than a summer misting.
He heard the sound of a quill scratching against paper over the storm's remnants, and the air behind his back grew hot as a crackling fire joined the room's ambiance. The sickly sweet smell of incense filled his nostrils, reminding him of days spent in his master's study. Another fond memory.
The storm wall vanished as the tremors subsided, making the room visible through a misty haze. The light of the fireplace cast his shadow across the now rough cut gray stone floor. Half a dozen tapestries hung around the room, and a liquor cabinet stood at the room's far corner. The main entry door remained closed to his left, and the doorway to the study's balcony lay to his right. At the room's center sat Rexinon at his desk, writing furiously on a piece of parchment.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he breathed a sigh of relief. Although he'd done this countless times, the journey into the pages of history was always filled with peril. But, blessedly, the most intense part of the spell was complete. And while he could now relax in that fact, that fourth image still concerned him.
He stood in the familiar square room, clothing restored to its original state. The evening's air flowed through the open windows, making the ambient temperature quite cozy. Crossing the room, he paused at the desk and listened as Rexinon started muttering. "What I wouldn't give for a typewriter, much less a computer. Would make this so much faster."
Jonathan couldn't help but crack a smile. "Oh, but how many times have I thought the same thing, old friend?" He remarked, though he knew Rexinon couldn't hear him.
He stepped up to the desk and leaned over it. Looking down at the paper Rexinon was writing on, he frowned. Like so many times before, it appeared as little more than black scribbles on a page. Those words had to be important, but there was no way to know.
This was one of the spell's critical weaknesses. The details within the vision were only as precise as what was written in the tome. Most of the books in the Archive were magically transcribed. The benefits of this were completed histories free of victor and writer biases. Although, it wasn't flawless.
Throughout history, there have been individuals or events that the spell couldn't see. The most well known examples of these blips in time were the United States presidency of Franklin D. Roosevelt from 1933 to 1945 and the United Kingdom's Prime Minister, Michael Durham, from 2063 to 2065. All that is known about them was their lives before office and the accounts written by those around them. These gaps in history were generally the result of one of two things. In these two cases, a place or individual with a strong connection to the Dominion of Shadows.
Sighing, he pushed off the desk and crossed the room to the liquor cabinet. He opened the glass doors, pulling several bottles and a glass from the shelves. He made a drink consisting of three parts Red Adders Bite and one part Dry Amorian Blood Wine, then added a lime wedge to the rim of the glass. The others wouldn't arrive for another half hour, leaving him time to kill.
He walked around the room with his drink in hand and studied the various tapestries, several of which he'd been a part of. Each one depicted an accomplishment or tragedy facilitated by the Order. All save one, which showed a scene from the event that started it all.
The one to the left of the cabinet showed the Order's founding. In the background stood a grand tower of black and white marble. Its four sides were engraved with the Mark of Hellyrr, which glowed with a magical light. In front of it stood a man facing a gathered crowd, his arms swept wide in triumph. They looked up at him and the structure with reverence and awe.
He continued to move in a counterclockwise manner around the room. Above the main entry door hung another tapestry. One he was even depicted in. It showed the aftermath of a massacre. Six figures stood amidst the bodies of hundreds. The earth around them was scorched by flame, and the blood of the fallen had stained it red. The cloud covered sky glowed a deep crimson with gold outlines from the fires below. It had come to be known as the Cleansing of Elysian, in which the entirety of the planet's second continent had been annihilated to preserve the world.
"I wish it had never come to this. Why can't we all just get along? Instead of thriving in the prosperity of our two lands, they plotted and began planning to bring war to our own people. To rape, pillage, and enslave them. Even with all my vast knowledge and wisdom, I can't understand why they felt the need to dominate and control the world." He looked back up at the tapestry. "Even now, most of the land is still uninhabitable."
He turned around and looked at the tapestry above the balcony door. This one would appear out of place with the others to all but a few handfuls of people. Even for those who learned the truth behind it, it looked like little more than an artist's vision of what a beautiful landscape at sunset should look like. The sky is dotted with hundreds of stars as shades of red, orange, and yellow dance across the land's horizon. The artist's point of view appears to be looking down from a hillside. Down the hill's slope, you can see a pond teaming with wildlife along its edge. The remaining landscape is filled with miles of forest stretching toward the horizon.
For the few who survived this event and still remained, they knew it depicted the final moments of their world before all of humanity was nearly lost.
Jonathan fixated on this tapestry more than he had on the others. The longer he stared, the more distant his expression grew. Over time, his breathing quickened, and his grip on the glass slipped. It shattered as it hit the floor, causing the rug to stain from the liquid. The sound jerked him out of the trance like state, making him feel ill.
He could still recall the memory of that long ago day like it were yesterday. The thought of how close humanity had come to extinction made his legs weak, and he stumbled back against the wall behind him. He slid down the stones' cool surface and noticed his hands were now trembling. Through shuddering breaths, he uttered the words of a broken man. "So much death. So many lives were lost that day. So many. Oh, Sonia. Even after all this time, I still miss you."
The main entry door slammed open, crashing against the wall with a loud bang. Jonathan jerked as one of them collided mere inches from where he sat. The startling sound had been enough to pull him from his stupor, but it still took a moment for him to gather himself. A man in the doorway lowered his foot from where he'd obviously kicked the unlocked door in.
"Knock, knock, Rex. Seems you've done it now."
"Seth. I'll never understand the animosity you held for Rexinon," Jonathan said wearily as he got to his feet.
Seth stood just shy of five foot eight inches and had slick black hair that he kept combed back. He wore black jeans and a beige dress shirt with mother of pearl buttons, which had seen far too much polish in recent days. A malevolent grin displayed his perfect teeth and careless eyes. He strode into the room, dragging a chair behind him, and placed it on the rug by the fireplace.
"Was kicking the door in really necessary, Seth?"
A second man stepped into the room, obviously annoyed by the unnecessary use of force. He wore a navy blue business suit and towered over everyone else in the room, and that was saying something considering Jonathan was six foot. As he still held to the standards of a marine, he kept his hair high and tight and his face clean shaven. He stood at the rug's edge out of respect for the Order so as not to mar the embroidered Mark of Hellyrr. A respect Seth clearly lacked.
"Godric Gibbs. This day changed you. Hell, it changed all of us, but few as much as you," Jonathan said. He looked back at the door as the third and final man entered. "Assassin."
This man was of a height with Jonathan and wore all black from head to toe. His outfit looked like something out of a TV show. Almost like a cross between Gi Joe's Snake Eyes, and CW Arrow's League of Assassins. After ten thousand years, all they knew about him was his previous occupation as a contract killer. It wasn't long before they'd taken to calling him Assassin, as they had no other name to go by. Any time he was asked a question regarding his past, he either remained silent or dodged it outright. He took a position to Godric's left and, like Godric, took care of where he stood on the rug.
The three men stood in silence and watched as Rexinon continued to write. Godric and Assassin seemed content to wait until he addressed them. On the other hand, Seth seemed to grow more agitated as the minutes passed. Jonathan chuckled in spite of himself.
About twenty minutes later, Rexinon spoke, "Reverend Seth Jones, Colonel Godric Gibbs, and Assassin. To what do I owe the pleasure?" His tone plainly indicated that he already knew.
Seth spoke first. "Oh, cut the crap, Rex. You already know why we're here. This cult thing of yours has gone on long enough."
"Well, there's the pot calling the kettle black," Jonathan muttered sarcastically.
Godric rolled his eyes. Everyone in the room knew about Seth's past as a cult leader. They also knew his anger was more at being forced to wait in silence than anything to do with Rexinon or the Order.
"Calm yourself, Seth. There's no need for such hostilities." Godric looked at Rexinon apologetically. "I'm sorry to have to do this, old friend, but my hands are tied. Rexinon the Prophet, Headmaster of the Hellyrrian Order, you've been charged with conspiracy to overthrow the governments of Aurelia and seize control for the Order.
"As we speak, the leaders of the Hellyrrian Order are being gathered for execution. Furthermore, your towers and all their artifacts will be destroyed, and any remnants of the Order's existence is to be wiped from the face of history. As of 0813 this morning, you have been sentenced to death. How do you plead?"
Rexinon continued to write at an incredible rate. He knew why they'd come. He'd known this was coming for months. After all, his gift was the gift of prophecy. The evidence for the charges against him was both substantial and ethereal, depending on what light was shown on it.
Two centuries ago, the Order had tracked the activities of an unknown number of individuals who'd been subtly manipulating several of the Aurelian governing bodies. They'd spread like a poison, corrupting them and turning once prosperous kingdoms which knew few hardships, into lands where the people had to fight just to survive. The problem was that whoever that force had been, always seemed to be just one step ahead of them. Now, not only was it check, but checkmate. The Order had lost.
"I believe the Righteous Twelve to be ill advised. I believe you've been manipulated by the same corrupted governing body which we've spent so long trying to purify—." Seth grunted. "—But," he said at length, "I accept all charges against me, save one. Neither myself nor anyone else of the Order has ever sought to rule Aurelia, as the charges would imply. The Cleansing of Elysian should've been proof enough to show that to be true."
Rexinon penned the final words of his letter and placed the pen back in its stand. Pulling the top off a jar, he dusted the page with a thin layer of sand to soak up any excess ink. After dumping the sand back into another jar to be cleaned, he pushed away from his desk and stood to look at his guests for the first time. After nudging his stool back under, he addressed Godric directly.
"Will you join me on the balcony one last time?"
Godric nodded his head and gestured towards the balcony doorway. As they stepped outside, Jonathan followed.
Rexinon leaned against the railing and looked out over the city, his gaze fixed on the setting sun. Godric joined him and looked down to the tower's base, some five hundred feet below. Although he was not afraid of heights, it gave him respect for the sturdily mounted railing at the balcony's edge.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Rexinon said. Godric looked at him, confused. "The way the world has turned out since that day? Ten thousand years of watching as civilization was rebuilt and destroyed time and time again by a senseless war. Watching them evolve into something more as they learned how to use these gifts we were given. In some ways, we're greater than we ever were. In other ways, we're inferior. If I have any regrets, it's that I couldn't do more to leave the people better prepared for this new age."
"Well spoken. If it's any consolation, I believe this is wrong. I even spoke out against the council for a different outcome. For my efforts, though, I was threatened with execution if I didn't cease my objections."
Rexinon's tone grew heated after hearing of the council's reaction. "You should know better than anyone why I fought so hard against them, then. I'm not against governance. I'm against corrupt governance. We had far too many corrupt politicians and warlords in our own time for me to ever want to allow it again."
Godric nodded his head. "Yes. The problem is you played too heavy a hand too quickly. Instead of accepting that they'd been beaten, they cheated by playing with an ace they had hidden up their collective sleeves."
Rexinon sighed, knowing his words were true. "Indeed. I've accepted my fate. I won't run. Won't even make it difficult for y'all. I have no need to. I would like to make one final request to ease your conscience, though."
Rexinon leaned toward Godric conspiratorially. As he did this, the world around them began to shimmer and distort. Almost like the motion blurring you'd see on a TV. Likewise, their conversation was masked by the sound of white noise and the sound of hushed incoherent whispers.
This was the second hurdle the scrying spells had to deal with. Individuals with divine magic could conceal their conversations or even the events they were a part of. Rexinon had concealed this conversation, and to this day, Godric has never spoken of what was said.
Jonathan returned to the study with a resigned sigh. There was nothing more he could learn from their conversation. Assassin stood in the same spot he'd been when he first entered the room and looked as if he hadn't so much as twitched. Seth, however, was rummaging through the desk's drawers. He'd tried to figure out what he was looking for in the past, but nothing seemed obvious.
The shards of glass from when he'd dropped his cup earlier had vanished, along with the stain on the rug from the liquor. As expected, the glass had returned to the cabinet, and the bottles had refilled to where they were before he'd arrived. This was yet another reminder that this was a magically induced vision of an event that had long since passed. It could be too easy to forget that this wasn't real and that if he spent too much time here, it would have consequences in the real world for him.
He knew they'd be out there a while. In previous visits, he'd occasionally spent this time combing through the room, similar to what Seth was doing. Having cataloged everything centuries ago, there was nothing left to do but wait. So, he walked around the desk and sat squarely within the Mark of Hellyrr embroidered on the rug. There, for the next hour or so, he would remain, arms folded, legs crossed, and eyes shut. Freeing his mind of all unnecessary thoughts and emotions. At least, that was the plan.
About forty minutes in, Seth started to grumble and complain, forcing Jonathan to give up on his meditation. "… I know he's one of the humblest among our kind, but lord, does he have to be so dull? I can't find anything interesting anywhere. Even his liquor cabinet is dull." Seth walked from behind the desk to the liquor cabinet, pulled a few bottles out at random, and read the labels aloud. "Red Adders Bite, Amorian Blood Wine. Christ, he's even got Athester's Sweet Malt. This crap might as well be water." He pulled another bottle down and said, "At least he's got the taste to have at least one bottle of Nordic Berserker."
"Some of us prefer the simpler things in life. You might find life more enjoyable when you aren't always looking for the rare and exotic," Assassin said with a disinterested, almost dismissive tone.
Seth clicked his tongue. "Hell, even this letter he was so focused on when we arrived makes no sense." Seth thrust the letter towards Assassin, who took it nonchalantly. "Look at this."
Jonathan studied Assassin intently, hoping for any sign that would reveal the letter's contents. It was no use, though; for all the emotion he showed, Jonathan would've thought it no more important than a grocery list. But, if that were the case, why obscure it from the eyes of the scrying spell? The frustration caused by such a simple sheet of paper was baffling.
Jonathan got to his feet as Rexinon and Godric returned. As Rexinon walked to stand at the center of the rug, Jonathan moved behind the desk. Godric walked toward Assassin and conversed with him for a few minutes. Once again, the sound of white noise shrouded what was said. This time, it was Godric who masked his words from the spell. When Assassin nodded, Godric moved beside him and faced Rexinon.
Rexinon looked at each tapestry and seemed to relive each as he did so. They all knew those accomplishments and tragedies would stand the test of time. Any efforts to change that would fall flat. The Order had played too significant a role in shaping this new world. Finally, he turned to Godric, kneeling as he met his regret filled eyes.
Assassin pulled an infamous rod from his side, dubbed the Executioner's Handle. Forged in the Dominion of Shadow by Assassin some three thousand years ago. It was one and a half feet long of shadow infused steel and bound with his own divine essence. Ominous black tendrils crawled along Assassin's hand like something alive and flowed into the handle. The shaft elongated, and an axe head formed at its end.
Though he had accepted his fate, seeing that axe form made Rexinon's heart stop momentarily. He looked at Godric questioningly. Godric knew what that look meant and nodded his head in assent. Agreeing to this had allowed them both to right several wrongs this night by asking one simple question. "Do you have any final words or requests?"
"I have two, if you'll grant them. The first, allow me to disband the Order formally as my final act as headmaster."
Seth started to protest, but Assassin lowered the axehead in his direction as a silent threat. Seth glared at Assassin with seething hatred. Godric nodded to Rexinon. "Proceed."
As the headmaster of the Hellyrrian Order, he had a mental connection with every member. Without hesitation, Rexinon's eyes began to glow with a brilliant purple hue. This would be Rexinon's final order, and Godric knew it would save thousands.
"My brothers and sisters, hear me now and heed my words. Abandon the Order and save yourselves. Flee to the hills and never look back to what we once were. With my dying breath, the Hellyrrian Order is no more. The governments of Aurelia have played a hand we can't stand against. Anyone who disregards this command will be hunted down and executed without mercy. To the leaders and guild masters of the Order, I charge you with dismantling everything relating to the Order and turning over every artifact and document you can to Godric the Just, Jonathan the Wise, or Assassin the Watcher. I also ask that you help calm those who feel outraged and betrayed by this night. Do not blame the Twelve, as they were little more than pawns in this corrupt game of politics. Farewell, my friends. My family. May the peace we have fought for be found in the coming days."
The glow faded, and he slumped forward onto his hands, his breathing labored. A few moments passed, and he managed to catch his breath but still looked towards the ground.
"The second request I have is that anyone who would heed that warning be spared. The ruling factions wanted me. As long as no one else causes trouble, we know they won't cause too much fuss over it."
His voice took on a much sharper edge as he looked back up. "You call us a cult, though you know we are nothing of the sort. On the contrary, our Order has stood for nearly five thousand years for the betterment of the entire world. How they treated you should tell you that what I said and what we were doing was justified."
"Shut your mouth, Rex!" Seth spat venomously.
Godric glared at Seth. His own anger with this situation was at the point of breaking free. "Be silent! I don't know what kind of grudge you have, but I, for one, don't give a damn what the council said. Rexinon doesn't deserve death for the crimes he's being accused of. Unfortunately, the ruling factions in almost every nation are corrupted and working towards being as corrupt as they were back in our day." Godric sighed. "Regrettably, my hands are tied, though. The law is the law, and I have been overruled on this matter. Regardless of what my conscience thinks, I will abide by the rules of the land."
Rexinon nodded, understanding Godric's situation perfectly. Godric had become the divine embodiment of law and justice at his ascension. While those two things work hand in hand, they are far from the same, and one must often walk a fine line to serve them both. In this case, the choices were clear. In the end, it didn't matter what he chose; he would inevitably betray one virtue or the other. Unfortunately, there was no good way for him to handle this, and Rexinon could see how this was affecting him.
"The majority of the Order will heed my warning. As for the leaders, if any are still alive, they will follow that command to the letter. They'll even aid you in handling any hotheads who resist," Rexinon said.
"The good news is that no one has yet been executed this evening. I'll personally see to it that those who abide by that order are given a chance to live long, productive lives within society. If all goes well, you will be the only casualty of this idiocy."
Rexinon gave the faintest sign of a smile with a halfhearted chuckle as he said, "Godric, one thing I'll not allow is any of the Order's work ending up in the hands of one of those tyrants. Therefore, I demand that Jonathan be given every document, scroll, and tome held within our strongholds for safekeeping." Rexinon felt exhausted. The spell to warn his Order took more out of him than anticipated.
"You're in no position to be making demands of us," Seth said. Godric finally snapped and struck him so hard that he slammed back into the wall beside the fireplace, cracking it. He got back to his feet a moment later, fixed his shirt, and looked down at the blood he'd wiped from his lip. Godric looked back at Rexinon.
"As you were saying."
"Assassin, I'd ask that you secure all our relics and artifacts, regardless of their magical significance. I don't need to tell you what all we have housed around Aurelia."
"No, you don't. The nukes of our time were nothing compared to some of those items," Assassin replied.
"We'll see to it that it's done. There are things within these walls that were never meant for untrained mortal hands," Godric added.
"Thank you."
"As for the texts, Jonathan will have a field day going through everything. There is far too much the council doesn't understand within these walls that we can't afford to lose."
"Godric was right, Rex. I still have everything. Much of which has been quite useful over the centuries,"
Godric turned his head away, no longer able to look Rexinon in the eye. "I no longer deserve the right to call you a friend, but is there anything else you would ask of me?"
Rexinon looked at Godric for a long time and couldn't help but smile. Not at his pain or suffering in following the orders given to him, but knowing that if anyone here had ever been a friend to him, Godric certainly was. With his final words, he left Godric with a warning.
"No, but I'll leave you with this. Be wary of those among you, for one will betray you all. My friend."
Godric nodded, accepting these as Rexinon's final words as a tear ran down his cheek. Rexinon lowered his head, and Assassin enveloped his axe's blade in a purple aura.
"Woah, Assassin, what's with the new color? Never seen that before," Seth asked.
Ignoring the question, Assassin swung the axe, severing Rexinon's head cleanly.
That night, the cries of the Order were heard in every city across Aurelia. All mourning the death of the Order's first, and last, headmaster.
Jonathan fought back tears of his own as he watched the axe's head vanish. Assassin secured the handle on his belt as he walked towards the desk. Godric looked as though he was going to be sick.
"Did you do as I asked?" Godric asked shakily.
"Of course. I may be a trained killer, but even I know this was bullshit, mate."
Seth walked over and picked up Rexinon's severed head by the hair. He held it up before him, a mischievous grin on his face. Then he whispered something into Rexinon's ear.
Assassin's eyes locked on Seth. As he let go of the head, he used one of his abilities, known as shadow step, to cross the distance to where Seth stood. Before Rexinon's head hit the ground, Assassin snatched it out of the air and punched Seth so hard that it sent him flying into the same section of the wall he'd hit earlier. He bounced off it, but the force of the impact sent several of the stones flying into the next room. Seth crumpled to the floor, where he lay unmoving for several seconds. After a while, his head snapped upright, and he began to laugh. He stood up as if nothing had happened and headed out the door. Godric, now seething with anger, watched as Assassin started to go after him. "Leave him. He's not worth your time."
Jonathan paced around the room, waiting for the spell to wear off. His heart ached, and his own anger toward Seth at that moment made him wish he could destroy the man. But that was Seth's way, and they'd all learned to let it go in time. The world began to blur and vanish, reverting to the Archive once again.
He closed the cover, placing the tome back on the shelf with a heavy sigh. His fingers lingered on the binding as he read the inscription, A Complete History of the Hellyrrian Order, Volume 666. Finally, Jonathan let his hand fall to the side as he walked away with his shoulders slumped.
As if speaking to an old friend, he lamented, "Damn you, Rex. Why couldn't you have just left well enough alone?"
As Jonathan walked away, he shed a tear at the loss of one of his closest friends.

I grew up in NJ and probably had Dunkin every month. Sure once in a while we would get something stale, too sweet, cold, but for the most part they were always tasty: I really liked that they were super soft and airy, that slight crunch of the glaze, filling flavors.
I went to FL for college, work, and then moved to VA and thus have been exposed to Krispy Kreme for about 9 yrs now and I hate them! I cannot understand the hype of these donuts at all. They are smaller, denser, more expensive, the glaze is sickly sweet, and when hot, drippy and sticky. And yet they are in the grocery stores and regularly have much higher google ratings than the Dunkins and even local bakeries. So many people bring them to group get togethers and such. I have always had a sweet tooth but also a very wide palate and I honestly don’t understand how I’m the only person who seems to think these donuts are way too sweet.
So today I decided to give it one more chance because I had never tried any non glazed ones since that’s the favorite that everyone brings. I got the strawberry sprinkled, which I’ve had many of from dunkin, and it was not good. The icing was one thick circle strip and extra sweetness and denseness on top of the existing glazed I don’t like. So today was my last chance lol unless one of you can prove me wrong.
Disclaimer that I am quite aware that local, small, and international bakeries and fast casual chains are varied and delicious and usually superior and I do patronize these as well.
That is all, thank you for your friday morning time.