Word Count: 560

“Hey, Code.”

Cynthus looked down into the well.

She would’ve leaned against the edge of it, but the stone looked a bit unstable—cracked deeply in spots, with bits of stone breaking off at the gentlest touch. It annoyed her a bit, considering it hadn’t been like this the last time she’d been here. A lot of her surroundings seemed in worse shape than they’d been even before she’d started cleaning this place up.

Below, the Code piece bounced around like it was trying to escape something, colliding with the sides of the well every few seconds. Cynthus hoped it would talk like it had when she’d brought it here, but it offered no response. Maybe whatever was happening to it made it so it couldn’t.

“This is garbage,” she told it. “I don’t know what’s going on, but don’t worry. I’ll get everything fixed up again.”

She hadn’t brought anyone with her. Her dad had offered, but Cynthus didn’t want him hovering. What if he stressed out her Code piece even more? Reims probably would have come with her again, too, if she’d asked, but he was off with Yvoire and Cynthus didn’t feel like getting in the middle of that. Maybe when she finished up here she’d try to find her way to Ephesus and Amarynthos, see if they were getting things fixed at their Wonders, too.

Then again, maybe not. She didn’t want to see them if all they were doing was making out.

With a huff, she put her hands along the cracked edge of the well. She closed her eyes and felt for that magical something inside of her. It wasn’t something that had always been there, but the Code had given it to her and she knew she could follow it, that she could soothe the connection somehow.

Cynthus didn’t think she’d be very good at it. She’d never meditated before, thought it was kind of a silly technique. How was she supposed to clear her mind and not think of anything? Especially here, on the moon, where she could see the star strewn sky in a way she never could on Earth, not to mention Earth itself!

So her thoughts kept flowing, and she let them. She imagined the connection like a narrow river of gold light. She imagined herself soothing its turbulence, maybe stroking it like a cat, putting her cheek against it like she could give it a cuddle, or wrapping her arms around it to give it a consoling hug. Every once in a while she’d see a flash of something, or hear whispers she didn’t understand. She thought she should be afraid of it, like maybe someone else was there with her after all, but Cynthus found it all strangely calming. She knew, somehow, that what she saw and heard were memories—hers and not hers at the same time.

It wouldn’t have made sense a year ago. It didn’t always make much sense now, but that was okay. It was magic. She was magic.

She must have done something right, because when she opened her eyes again the Code piece in the well had calmed down.

“That better?” she asked it.

It still didn’t respond, but Cynthus thought its steady glow was answer enough.

She looked around her with another huff. “Guess I should clean up a bit.”