Rising Shards

Marmalade had ended up with one of the daggers, and she didn’t look like it was a “oops I accidentally grabbed these, tee hee better give em back” sort of moment. Guilt crossed her face, but also determination, and that determination terrified me.

“How did you…” I said, my mouth dry. “Get that?”

“When Caya blasted 09…it kinda flung my way. Nobody noticed.” Marmalade said. She stared at the dagger. "I wasn't like. Planning for this, or anything. I mean, I thought about it. I just didn't think...my luck would work out like this..."

“We have to give that to Diast and Caya.” I said.

“Don’t shout, please,” Marmalade said as I turned to call over to Diast.

“No, we can’t—” I started.

“Can’t we just keep one?” She asked. “We can figure out a way to get it to not monster-ify and just. Work on me.”

I could see her desperation, and I knew immediately what her thoughts were. A mystical artifact that could help with transformations…a topic that had naturally been on her mind a lot. I understood her reasoning, but what she wanted with them wasn’t possible.

“They won’t do what you want them to,” I said. “Ever. Trust me.”

“How do you know?” Marmalade asked. “What if there is a way?” Tears streaked down her face. “Wouldn’t that make all this worth it?”

“No, it wouldn’t,” I said. “Those things won’t help you transition…they just.” I shuddered thinking of what the dagger she held did to me. “Make you a monster.”

“They can’t make me any worse.” Marmalade said.

“Hey…” I said. I knew what she was feeling. She sounded like how I felt during my last dysphoric spell. The feeling of not being right in your own skin. Marmalade sat down, still tightly clinging to the Sharai Dagger. If my unspoken trans communication bond wasn’t working with Marmalade at the moment, I had to use my actual words. I sat down beside her, thinking about how we talked about our transgender business prior. “You helped me the last time I was feeling bad for transgender reasons. So I’m here to listen if you need it. I know what you’re going through.”

“Do you? What do you know about what I’m going through?” Marmalade said. “The pills worked on you.” Marmalade gasped. “Sorry. I didn’t mean. Oh my god, I suck.”

“It’s OK.” I said. It stung, but there were more important things at the moment. Part of me did want to jab back about how much I had just gone through, seeing Jeans again as well as my terrible father, but I held my tongue. About how reckless she was being with the monstrous artifact that made me a nightmare. I thought about going in depth about what exactly the daggers did to me, but the words caught in my throat. If I blew up right back at her, this could all get really ugly. So I decided to try and listen first. “I didn’t know how bad you were hurting.”

“Duh. I’m trans. We’re always hurting.”

“Not always. Right?” I said.

Marmalade sniffed. “Well there’s a lot of hurt in there.”

“And a lot of cool too.” I said. “Cool that doesn’t need the Sharai Daggers.”

Marmalade still didn’t let go.

“Dr. Diast told me there’s no wrong way to be transgender,” I said. “And I believe that. You don’t need those things to change. You’re already awesome, and the way you’ve been transitioning is way better than using some Endoran crap to try and do it. I seem to remember a certain girl saying she’d keep going on the path she’s going, too.”

“Yeah…” Marmalade said. “Some days that’s easier said than done.”

“But you’re still doing it,” I said. “You wanna break your transitioning awesomely streak with that thing?”

“That’s so corny,” Marmalade said. She sighed and held out the dagger. “Take it before I regret giving it away.”

I didn’t want to hold the daggers ever again, but I was OK doing it to take a burden off a friend. I held it very carefully, not wanting the point of it anywhere close to my body.

“You can go bring it to Dr. Diast now,” Marmalade said. “I think I want to be alone for a bit.”

“You sure?” I asked.

“Yeah…” Marmalade said. “But…if I could vent to you about this when we’re not on a wild chase with casinos, ancient evil guy bases…yeah. Would that be cool?”

“Of course.” I said.

Marmalade nodded, and leaned back until she was lying down, staring up at the sky. As I walked away, I felt an odd mix of emotions, finding myself looking back her way a few times. We had bonded further there in some ways, but I also a sense that in others we had slipped further apart. Among my network of friends and family, there were things about myself that only Marmalade could get, and I imagined the same was probably true for her. But we were both very different, too. I made a silent promise to myself to be a really good friend the next time Marmalade wanted to vent it out about being trans. I looked back at her one more time, with her lying down by herself alone. It was about the same distance from Marmalade to me as it was from me to the others, and as the wind swayed the flowers, I really felt that space between us all.