Chapter 7

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Pretty babysitters shan't sway my ironclad emotions.

"What is up, everyone? Welcome back to my Terraria Let's Play. I'm CapyZahra, and today we're on the hunt for the Shimmer. Again. And, no, I'm not going to cheat and look at the comments. Anyone who tells me in the chat where I should be looking is dead to me, because—as a reminder for those of you watching on YouTube or Leopard—the struggle is filmed in front of a live Twitch audience." My brain somehow manages to get through my usual opening spiel while simultaneously reminding me that I will be sitting here for roughly three hours. Without checking on my baby. Or going to the bathroom. Because I try not to do that when I'm streaming solo. When I'm in a group, someone usually pops in to entertain chat when I say I need to break, but things are harder when it's just me. At least tonight is a Terraria stream, and I'm not in any elaborate cosplay for it. "Okay, that's the replay intro out of the way. How's everyone doing tonight?"

Jumping around on top of the 2D tower I've spent roughly seventeen hours building out of blocks, I glance at my other monitor, where the chat is flying by with its usual greetings. Smiling when DaniBird153 joins, I say, "Looks like we've got a lot of familiar faces in the chat today. Welcome back, welcome back. Remember, if you're doing homework right now and using me as background noise that inevitably becomes foreground noise, the full upload will be available on my second channels, but that GPA will haunt you for the rest of your life."

I make my little character jump off the tower and double jump just before getting fall damage. "I can't wait until we enter Hard Mode and can get some wings to negate the fall damage completely… Luck has not been with me in delivering that horseshoe item that does it. Speaking about wings, though, I was looking through a list of them the other day, and I picked out a few I liked, but does anyone want to coordinate a poll vote on what I should aim for first?"

I glance at the chat while I run my character toward the next place on the map that I haven't searched for the Shimmer biome. Immediately, an influx of nerds who know how to play the game, memorize the Wiki, and probably can defeat all the bosses with a slingshot jump in to Um, Actually me.

"No, hold on. I'm seeing a ton of great points where stats and early Hard Mode availability is concerned, but I'm only interested in vibes ."

The gamer boys who aren't happy I'm a gamer girl rage about how it doesn't matter how pretty my wings are. I need to get a good enough pair as fast as possible and defeat Plantera before the evil biomes take over the world, obviously . It'll be a headache for me if I don't, and I'm seriously just so stupid for not considering this.

Except.

Of course.

I have considered it.

I do happen to know how the game works, and it would be lovely if people could just chill and enjoy it. Some fan clubs are crazy toxic. Like. Undertale. I quite nearly almost quit that one because of the overwhelming pressure everyone was putting on me about getting the correct ending . The way my chat read throughout the entire playthrough made it seem like I was bound to ruin something at every turn.

Streaming sucks sometimes. If I didn't have to rely on the number of watchers and views, and if the twelve-year-old haters here weren't helping me make a living, I'd only ever do streams for my real supporters on the Discord server linked to my Patreon.

God made me a streamer to challenge my virtues.

I stand fully by that.

Mom criticized how entranced I was by the video games she gave to my brother growing up, reminding me constantly that they were boy things and a waste of time for me . My birthdays were full of play cleaning supplies while my brother got Gameboys and PlayStations.

I enjoyed the wonders of sweeping the floor with a cheap, tiny plastic broom while he got microwave pizzas and Mario.

Boys will be boys.

They're made different.

They need their relaxation time.

When he gets older, he'll be supporting a family, and you need to know how to take care of one.

What a joke.

Last I checked, my brother was a slob with no work ethic to speak of. But, then again, I really haven't checked in a long, long time. So maybe something has changed.

Unlikely.

But maybe.

Somehow, I keep my smile in place for the camera while my thoughts rage. "Guys, please. I know that stats should play a role and I can't jump directly to any endgame wings. You're losing the plot."

My darling DaniBird comments: I just looked up a list, and I am partial to the Flame Wings.

Of course you are, my beautiful arson.

Grinning, I say, "Flame Wings it is! After I find the Shimmer, defeat the Wall of Flesh, and isolate the Corruption."

So much to do, so much to do…

Which means I probably can't cut this stream short to make sure everything is okay with Ash and Alexios.

See, Mom? Video games are good for everyone . They teach a marvelous number of virtues. Like, grace and mercy where the haters are concerned, and patience , which I desperately need help with.

And, another thing, having fun as a girl isn't bad.

I do wonder if I'll ever be able to play a game without feeling the press of generational sexism breathing down my neck.

I mean. It's not like I initially made playing video games into a career because of the guilt that surrounds anything I do that isn't productive.

Right?

Ha ha.

My heart rate doesn't want to calm down, even though I'm still just running across calm parts of the map, loosely watching chat, and rambling exclamations at the creatures trying to kill me. I'm at the end of Terraria's Easy Mode, literally just cleaning up a few more Hard Mode prep things, so I'm overpowered to the max and one-shotting everything I come across.

I should not be stressed out of my mind.

I love gaming. Hanging out with people. Letting my mods kick the whiny twelve-year-olds…

It's great.

But it's also often like therapy.

Add the baggage of a faerie I barely know, don't trust, and who isn't even one year old yet supervising my baby, and it is quite the character-developing session.

Unpacking all the trauma so it can lay about in my brain isn't the most fantastic thing in the world, to be perfectly transparent. Practicing emotional repression so I don't have a breakdown on camera also is not making it to my top ten of most enjoyable times.

Sir, I require some inner peace right now, please.

The goofy Lord decides that now is the perfect time for the undeniable sound of a baby's cry to make it past the music in my headphones. My heart hits my ribs as I pull a muff off, freeze in game, and look toward my office room door.

Ash, Alexios, and my bedroom are on the opposite end of the hall.

How loud is Ash crying?

Is he all right?

What if Alexios dropped him?

DaniBird153 : Everything okay?

My eye catches on my lovely's message before a string of more concerned messages flow in.

Forcing a smile onto my face, I ease my headphone back onto my ear, smile, and pretend my stomach doesn't hurt. "Sorry about that. I thought I heard something. If a robber gets me in the next minute, just know I died doing what I loved." Stressing excessively while trying to relax.

DaniBird153 : I hope it's not a robber. I hope it's a crazed fan.

"Dani, if that's code for I'm in your living room , please tell me you aren't going to wait until after the stream to say hi."

DaniBird153 : Sorry. I'm busy going through your fridge. What was that? You want me to eat all your snacks? Well, if you insist…

A notification appears in the chat, letting me know that Dracon48 has sent a raid, which is a neat Twitch feature where when one creator ends their stream, they can send everyone watching them to someone else. Since Drac is a Minecraft YouTuber with several million followers, the influx of messages floods the entire conversation away. "Whoa there! Dragon raid! Thanks so much, buddy. Welcome to the stream, everyone. From one block game to the next. What was The Dragon doing on the WonderCraft SMP? I've not been able to catch up since the war started."

The WonderCraft SMP is a Minecraft survival multiplayer server full of YouTubers who share videos of the shenanigans that occur with their shared world projects. The whole thing is crazy popular. Crazy hard to join. And, of course, crazy hilarious.

I've been obsessed for generations, and it still boggles the mind that I'm now friends with half the server in a can message in the middle of the night context.

Heck.

I'm in their Discord chat. Because Endeavor—the server maintenance man—never bothered to kick me out after a collab a year or so ago.

Messages about the amazing world of WonderCraft come in, and I catch a small percentage of them as I begin digging down in another futile search for the elusive Shimmer biome.

By some miracle, I don't panic quit in the middle of my stream, take my headphones off again, or even opt for a bathroom break to check on Ash. I survive the entire stream, right up until I'm sending a raid to StoneRogue, who is another member of the WonderCraft server and the guy I'm connecting with Ollie about his game's soundtrack.

The second my camera is off, I'm out of my chair and power-walking to my room. It's silent. Unhelpfully, my brain adds a foreboding too silent to my thoughts as I inch toward my ajar door, careful to mimic the quiet.

Breath held, I peer in at Alexios holding Ash in the stillness. Of all things, a deep, vibrating hum reaches me, catching the notes to "So This Is Love" as Alexios paints his gloved fingertip across Ash's sleeping brow.

Gently, near the crib made of rough branches, he sways, dark lashes long and lowered.

My panicked heart stumbles and…settles.

The only light on is the touch-activated lamp on my bedside table at its dimmest warm setting. The yellow, firelight hues cast the shadows in a dreamlike state, filling them with more peace than I knew to ask for several hours ago. The comforting light traces Alexios's features. Every pale, cut edge of his ears poking through his dark hair and that sharp jawline illuminate in the dwindling rays.

As he bends to press a kiss to Ash's forehead, I let my tight shoulders ease.

When he puts Ash back in what seems to be a fresh mound of dirt, I inch away and pretend I haven't been watching for the entirety of his hummed song.

Unfortunately, Alexios murmurs, "That's no use, snowflake. I know exactly where any creature with emotions is within a disturbingly large radius." His attention lifts, fixing on me. The warm light of my bedside lamp glints in his stormy eyes as he smiles. "You seem…stressed. Here I thought video games were supposed to be recreational."

Out of reflex, my arms fold as my guard fits back into place. "Tell that to the three-eyed muscle monster I just decimated in the Underworld, which is full of lava, fire bats, and these imp things that can throw magic balls of flames through walls."

He approaches, slow, graceful, sultry . Stopping inches from me, he dips his head. "I would think you the type to find recreation in violence."

"How insulting. I'm clearly a delicate little flower." My eyes roll.

Alexios's lips tip up. Lifting his hand, he uses a single finger to fix a lock of dark hair that has fallen over the moss green cropped half of my head. " Is that clear?"

The strange heat that sweeps down my spine is uncalled for. Yes, he's very pretty. Yes, he was just humming Disney music to my baby. No, I simply cannot be this weak.

"Poor snowflake," he whispers while I'm ever so busy reining in what I'm choosing to call a feminine urge , which is likely instigated by hormones . "It seems playing with the muscle monster near the lava has caused you to melt." The most wicked of smiles stretches his mouth as he gets too close . "Or…perhaps…there's another reason your limbs appear somewhat unstable at the moment?"

My eyes narrow as I put some space between us. "Listen up, buster. The only thing unstable about me is my mental health."

Crossing his arms, he leans his shoulder against my doorjamb, angles his head, and arches a brow. "My angel, is it not more embarrassing to admit that than it is to admit you find me attractive?"

"First of all, I'm not your anything, Xios."

"A lie. You're my soulmate, whether you like it or not. Soul pairs come in two, and there are no replacements." His gloved hand unravels and splays. "While I'm thinking about it, may I have your soul tonight?"

Letting my tongue roam my cheek for a second, I flick my gaze up off his hand to his eyes. "How about no?"

"Pity." His fingers close. "I could do such marvelous things with it."

Acid rises in the back of my throat, and my stomach sours.

His smile tames and falls as his brows dip. "What did I say that troubled you?"

"You really have to ask?"

"Would you expect me to read your mind?" The way his eyes gleam makes me hesitate to reply with a quipped yes .

"Xios," I begin.

He all but purrs , "Yes?"

"With the correct… permissions …are you able to read my mind?"

He chuckles, darkly. "Now, what would give you that sweet little idea?"

"You know what's not fun, Xios?"

"Bloodletting. Paper cuts. Meda's homework. Eating green beans . Walking on nails. Broken pencils. Mushrooms. Cracked book spines. Dull knives — "

I interject, "Not knowing the rules to a game."

His brows rise. "I provided you with a concise list of the rules to our game."

"And, yet, I'm a prisoner to my ignorance where you, and most faerie matters, are concerned." Extending my hand, I say, "May I have a guide to all things yamachichi ?"

Crimson rises in his cheeks. "What an intimate request. I don't find it very professional gamer of you to ask for the cheat codes."

"Cheat codes? How is knowing that I'm not accidentally going to give you firewall access to my brain cheating ? I don't get respawn privileges here if I mess up. When you tried to trick me the other day, you didn't ask for my soul . You asked for everything . That implies there are multiple pieces of me, beyond my soul, that can be sold to a creature like you."

His eyelids lower, and he scans me, leisurely. "Aren't you clever?"

"I try to be. Sometimes."

"It's cheating for you to know everything about what I am because I do not know everything about what you are."

"Well, to be certain I can't access any of the star nymph stuff and I'm pretty harmless in the human department."

"Lies are remarkably far from harmless, Zahra. They can tear apart the very fabric of a universe. I know, because I can sense the ones that have left scabs on your soul. It takes everything in you these days not to reopen those still-healing wounds."

I lean forward, much too close to his face, and mutter, "Dude. It's comments like that one that really leave me needing some information. You have to see how unfair this is. I can't sense anything about your soul or whatever icky scabs you've got."

"Pardon you. My soul is pristine."

"You are just further making my point." Nudging past him, I pad through my bedroom and position myself at Ash's crib. My sweet little boy has got a fistful of dirt. But of course he does.

He is still so very small…but he'll grow before I realize what's happening. Before I know it, he'll be an entire person, with thoughts and feelings and wishes and dreams. And I'll be responsible for guiding him through every twist and turn of this mess called life .

A thread of unease pulls taut in my chest, but I swallow the fear.

All I can do is my best. All I can do is follow my convictions to lead with love. But…even God, as the most perfect parent in the universe, lost His children to their free will. I could do everything right, and…and still…

"Zahra."

When Alexios's hand falls against my shoulder, I lurch backward, away from him, toward my bed.

My heart races as I stare at him, and he closes his fingers to draw his hand to his side. "My apologies."

Managing my breaths, I respond with level-headed, don't-wake-baby calm. "Xios, if you start touching me without warning, I will snap your twig body in half over my knee."

His closed hand redirects to press his fingers against his mouth. Hoarse, he clears his throat, then repeats, "My…apologies." He swallows. "Your feelings shifted into places that worried me, but I don't know what came over me. Touch is not usually my go-to." His deep gray-blue eyes tinge with genuine concern. "Are you all right? Is there anything I can do to help ease your nerves?"

"Nerves?" I wet my lips, lift my arms, cross them one way, then the other, and finally plant my hands at my hips. My palms are sweaty. For some reason. I wipe them on my shirt. "What nerves?"

Alexios stares at me. Long moments slip by. Moving his attention to my baby, he murmurs, "You'd feel better if you unloaded some of those emotions on me."

"Nah, I'm good. Great even. What emotions, actually?" I yawn, and stretch. "Wow. Would you look at the time. I need to play my silly little phone games until I pass out."

Alexios perks, pulling his sleek black phone out of his pocket. "What silly little phone games do you play?"

I will not be saying the title of the vampire dating sim monstrosity I play in front of an infant, and—oh look—Ash is here, too.

"May we play any of them together?" Alexios asks.

Absolutely not.

Gracious. He looks so innocent in this moment. He does not need to read the dramatic romance nonsense I do and add anything else to his flirting repertoire. He already looks like the picture archetype of my favorite options—the tall, dark, broodingly beautiful, and dastardly sort.

His expression falls in response to my deer-in-headlights silence. Pitiful, he murmurs, "Not even Monopoly Go?"

I accidentally blink in tandem, one eye, then the other. "How about Monopoly No ?" I march toward him, turn him around, and usher him to the door. "Goodnight, Xios. Text me that essay about all your powers and abilities as soon as you can, 'kay? 'Preciate it. Bye."

I close my door on him, take a deep breath, and look back at my…my son .

Emotion threatens, so I stretch my fingers.

No.

Nope.

I am not breaking down in tears again . Not tonight. I can't do that every night.

It's impractical. And being impractical is a sign of emotional immaturity. And I won't be an emotionally immature parent. That is the very least I can do if perfection is unattainable and may not make a difference in the end.

Carefully and slowly, I move Ash's bed up to mine, so I can reach him after I change into my PJs, brush my teeth, and lie down.

I will do my best…because that's all I can do.

And I will make sure my little boy knows he is loved.