text: Walter squinted at the book for a moment, then blinked rapidly. “Did the text on the book just change?” “When I first saw you, I surmised you weren’t of this world. I quietly cast a translation spell. You will be fluent in the common languages of this Kingdom for the next fortnight. Sometimes the spell has a tiny delay.” “I thought slow internet connections were a thing of my world,” Walter sighed. “I guess my over-the-hill-brain is connected via dial up.” “That is strange, the spell is translating, but the words you just spoke are nonsensical to me.” Benvolio confessed. He then added, “I must apologize for enchanting you without your permission, but I thought it the most practical course of action. It is much easier to put someone at ease when you can have a dialogue with them.” “You are fine, but next time please ask before casting spells on me.” Walter requested. Benvolio bobbed his head in acknowledgement. They flipped through the pages of the book, the gateways and portals between worlds, though seemingly random, were most likely to occur in moments of harmony between two places. One example the book gave was, if through improbable coincidence, two hallways in different galaxies were identical, it could cause a connection in which a person could easily walk from the hallway in their galaxy into the identical hallway in another galaxy. Cosmic echoes, the book called it. Likewise, two beings sharing a moment of great psychological or emotional resonance could cause a bridge between their realities. “Fascinating,” Benvolio pondered. He was beginning to form a theory of what brought Walter to his world. He asked Walter to turn the page. They came upon Benvolio’s bookmark, noting the spell he had cast on the knight. Once again, they agreed not to tempt that spell, since it seemed random in nature. Walter turned the page and Benvolio’s eyes studied it intently. There was a symbol on the page, one he had not seen since he was a hatchling. Her symbol. “Locus Cordis” Walter read out loud. Walter paused and looked up to Benvolio who was taken aback. Benvolio looked contemplative, then bowed his head down to Walter. “This may be the one, if I may, I must take a few minutes to reflect on something.” “Reflect away. Do you mind if I go find a bush or somewhere where I can go pee? I don’t suppose you have indoor plumbing here.” Walter asked. Benvolio shook his head “nay” to the indoor plumbing. Walter wandered off. Benvolio sat and focused on his memories. Benvolio remembered those earliest days. He remembered hatching; the great golden eyes of his mother, Bellissima, gazed down at him affectionately. Her scarlet scales shimmered in the firelight, her tail wrapped around Benvolio and his siblings. Bellissima sang to them in a smooth alto voice, bringing them food to eat. They nuzzled her, her scarlet scales emitting a low heat. In those days, the hatchlings had not yet matured enough to have their own flames, so they basked in hers to remain warm. She would take them outside, showing them the stars, explaining the constellations. One day they came; there was always a “they”. They used words like “monster” and “beast” to describe his mother. Benvolio would later notice that the same terms were always thrown around when they came for Benvolio’s kind. Knights and adventurers had a rather limited vocabulary. Bellissima tried to deescalate, but the knights would not listen. Bellissima swatted them with her tail, protecting Benvolio and his siblings. A single arrow, that was all it took, and Benvolio’s brother was no more. The halls of the cave shook with Bellissima’s roars of agony. She looked to the surviving hatchlings, sorrow in her golden eyes. Then one of the adventurers grabbed a sack, young Benvolio felt a hand squeezing him, making it hard to breathe. “Locus Cordis!” Bellissima cried. In that moment the knight’s blade found its target in the weak spot in Bellissima’s scales, piercing her heart. Benvolio tried to cry out, but his vision faded to white, and everything felt cold. When he awoke, the cave was gone, he was in a strange place filled with tall, cold stones. It was snowing. Benvolio closed his eyes, and gently closed the book shut with his claws. The mark on the page was his mother’s mark. The spell was his mother’s spell. Now, it was Walter’s best chance to get home.