Acrilis

Unsettled Minds

“So… you’re saying you’re a rogue?” Salvor eyed her suspiciously.

“Yeah, something like that. Except I’m the fun type of rogue. You can’t blame a girl locked in some castle for wanting to see what lies beyond the threshold.” Acrilis shifted uneasily on the bed.

“Yeah, except you might’ve gotten yourself some superfluous binoculars,” Heliot muttered.

“I think I get her,” Salvor said, glancing at Heliot.

Heliot threw his arms out, giving him a bewildered look. “Really, Salvor?”

“I mean… if I came from a world with cool tech and magic, and I could travel through portals to other worlds, I’d take my chances—anytime, any day.”

“So what’s the plan? Keep her here until her dad comes hunting us… again?”

Salvor gave Acrilis a long look. She kept her gaze fixed on the record player sitting in the far corner of the room.

“No. We can’t keep her here. That could jeopardize everything.”

“Great! Because the last thing I want is weaponized aliens blasting us with magical light beams over some brat who doesn’t want to keep her butt in her own home!”

“HEY! Watch it, Heliot!” Salvor snapped, his voice cutting sharper than he intended.

The door suddenly creaked open, and both boys spun around in unison. Standing there was Clarissa—Salvor’s mom—her sharp gaze drilling into them.

“You two better cool it. You’ll wake Dariel.” She shifted the toddler in her arms, rocking him gently.

“Can I… take a look at him?” Acrilis asked, suddenly springing from the bed, her eyes fixed curiously on the baby.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea—” Salvor began.

“Why not? And wait—who do we have here?” Clarissa’s brows lifted. She hadn’t expected a guest, much less a strikingly pretty one wearing her son’s shirt.

“Salvor.” Her head snapped toward him, demanding answers.

“I can explain… I promise—” Salvor stammered, panic creeping into his voice.

“How rude of you! Didn’t think it was worth introducing your sweet, adorable girl to your mom?” His mother cut him off

Heliot—who had been pretending to sip from a cup—sputtered water everywhere.

“Heliot! Are you alright?” Clarissa asked, frowning.

“Yes, ma’am. Never been better.” He straightened, grinning, as she turned her attention back to Salvor.

“Umm… it’s not what you think. Acrilis is—”

“His very first,” Heliot cut in smoothly, giving Salvor a sly look. “And it’s kinda complicated. A boy’s thing, actually. Best not to trouble yourself. Unsettling business, really.”

“Aww! My boy is shy?” Clarissa teased, her smile softening. “Don’t worry. I could say the same about your father when he first met me. Oh, what a fine young man he was…”

“Okay… enough, Mom. I’ve heard the story a thousand times,” Heliot groaned.

“I’d love to hear it,” Acrilis giggled, turning her attention to Clarissa.

“Oh, of course, dear. I can fill you in while you help me in the kitchen.” Clarissa extended her hand. Acrilis took it with graceful curiosity.

“That’s… not a great idea,” Salvor blurted, already dreading the questions his mother might ask.

“Relax, lover boy. I won’t steal your damsel.” Clarissa pressed Dariel gently into Acrilis’s arms. Acrilis held the child with surprising tenderness, her eyes wide with fascination.

“He’s so small… and cute,” she murmured, chuckling. For a fleeting, uneasy moment, Salvor worried she might toss the baby like a toy through the window.

“Just… be careful,” he muttered.

And with that, Clarissa and Acrilis left the room, already chatting like old friends.

Heliot leaned back, smirking. “What’s the worst that could happen?” he said with a grin—though the flicker of doubt in his eyes betrayed him.

Salvor ran a hand down his face. “I don’t even want to imagine.”

-----

Heliot drove away from Salvor’s place, taking his time, mind running in circles. How had they ended up here? One moment Salvor was dreaming about elves and sirens; the next, one of them had literally dropped into his lap. Life couldn’t have turned stranger if it tried. Acrilis had slipped into Salvor’s world absurdly well, like a misplaced puzzle piece that somehow completed the picture.

Yet her presence came with questions—questions that refused to stay buried. The mythical girl’s background had bled into their lives uninvited, thanks to her so-called youth revolution. And what unsettled Heliot most was how little the world seemed to notice. Streets torn up, alien forces chasing them, buildings blasted apart… and somehow, the law and the press hadn’t blinked. According to Acrilis, they—the invaders—wanted only her. Everyone else was collateral damage. Her people were good at cleaning up their mess, she said.

Heliot still couldn’t wrap his head around it. One thing was clear, though: the longer Acrilis lingered, the more chaos and unrest followed her like a shadow. It was only a matter of time before Salvor realized that.

Salvor. That was another story entirely. The guy had dreamed his fantasies into reality, and instead of being zonked out by it, he’d latched onto Acrilis like she was the axis of his existence. Before Heliot left, Salvor’s words had replayed in his head:

“I think for now… we should help her adjust to our world.”

Heliot had gawked at him. “What the f**k are you talking about? What about her dad and his army of psychos?”

“I don’t… We can wait them out. Negotiate. Or—I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. We just need time.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Heliot had exploded, his patience snapping. “Negotiate with someone who was willing to sacrifice actual people just to drag his daughter back? How do we figure that out, Salvor? And what makes you think we even have the time?”

“I just need to think, okay? Let me think. I’ll come up with something.”

Simple. Too simple. To Heliot, it wasn’t hard to see what was really going on: Salvor was obsessed with Acrilis—and she, in her own alien way, seemed just as bound to him. Whatever they were, they were making a damn good effort at wrecking the world together.

He eased his car to a stop in front of Aera’s house. Unlike Acrilis, she was the calm after every storm Salvor’s alien fairytale unleashed. Heliot couldn’t claim he’d been the best boyfriend lately, but he wanted to try. Still, no matter how much he tried to ground himself with Aera, Salvor’s madness kept dragging him back in.

He walked up the steps and pressed the doorbell.

“Coming!” a voice called from inside. A minute later, the door swung open to reveal a pretty woman in her mid-thirties. She had warm brown eyes, a sharp jawline softened by a kind smile, and hair pulled neatly back. For a split second, Heliot might have mistaken her for Aera’s mom—except she wore an apron in a house that clearly belonged to the wealthy.

“Oh! You must be Heliot,” she said, her tone brisk but polite, though her eyes flicked anxiously toward the kitchen.

“That’ll be me,” Heliot replied with a small smile.

“Wow, you look even better in person. Aera’s in her room upstairs.” She stepped aside to let him in.

Heliot entered, taking in the house at once. It was the kind of home that wore its wealth casually: polished marble tiles underfoot, high archways, a chandelier that scattered light like diamonds, and the faint scent of lavender polish hanging in the air. Elegant, tasteful, intimidating.

“Oh, and please remind her,” the maid added as she disappeared down the hall, “her mom wants her to see her piano teacher and stop skipping lessons.”

Her words jolted Heliot back from his awe. “Got it!” he called back, then started up the sweeping staircase, his footsteps echoing softly against the marble. When Heliot reached the top of the stairs, he found himself in a long hallway lined with identical doors. Each one gleamed with polished brass handles and intricate crown molding—expensive touches that made the choices all the more confusing.

Great. I’m supposed to just guess? he thought, glancing down the corridor. Calling out her name crossed his mind, but it felt too forward. So, with a little prayer for luck, he approached the nearest door and knocked softly.

Silence. His nerves buzzed. He raised his hand again, rapping his knuckles against the wood with a little more resolve.

This time, a warm, melodic voice floated out:

“Come in.”

Relief washed through him. He turned the knob and gently pushed the door open.

The room was like stepping into a dream—painted in soft coral-blue tones, walls adorned with glossy posters of Ariana Grande and Taylor Swift, and delicate fabrics draped like tapestries across the ceiling and windows. A small upright piano sat neatly in one corner, its polished keys catching the light.

And there, perched on the bed, was his pudding. Aera.

Her hair, now styled into short curls that brushed her shoulders, framed her face effortlessly. She wore shorts that revealed the elegant lines of her legs, a loose blouse layered over a simple singlet. A lit joint balanced between her lips, smoke curling lazily into the air while a tray of rolled packs rested on the headboard beside her. She scribbled absentmindedly into a notepad on her lap, pausing only to exhale slow plumes of smoke.

Heliot froze in the doorway, caught between awe and uncertainty.

“You know…” he finally said, his voice breaking the quiet, “for a girl who looks like she has everything, you seem like you could use a little company.”

Her head shot up, startled—like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, s**t! I—I’m sorry.” She quickly snatched the joint from her mouth, set it in its tray, and slid it under the bed. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I thought I’d surprise you,” Heliot replied with a faint smile, crossing the room and sinking onto the bed beside her.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, softer this time.

“For what?” he asked.

“I don’t… really smoke that much. Just sometimes. When it gets too much.” She hesitated, chewing the edge of her lip before continuing. “Moments like that, you know?”

Heliot reached up, brushing his fingers through her curls before letting his hand trail down to cup her cheek.

“You don’t need to apologize. I get it. Everyone has their own way of… dealing.”

That made her smile faintly. She pressed her lips against his palm in a soft kiss.

“Now, if you don’t mind…” Heliot teased gently, “…I’d like a taste of the good stuff.”

She giggled, shaking her head, and slid a glass jar from beneath her pillow. Inside were several perfectly rolled joints. She handed him one, amusement twinkling in her eyes.

He took it like he knew exactly what he was doing. That only made her laugh harder. She reached for the lighter resting on the bed, flicked it open, and held the flame to his lips.

Heliot inhaled deeply—and immediately erupted into a coughing fit, smoke bursting out in a mess of wheezes.

“Are you okay?” Aera touched his shoulder, eyes wide with concern.

His red-rimmed eyes met hers, and suddenly he burst out laughing. The sound was contagious, and she cracked up alongside him.

“And here I thought you were a pro,” she teased.

“Forgive me, my lady,” he managed between coughs, grinning, “I can be… a little disappointing sometimes.”

“Cowboy,” she smirked, plucking the joint from his fingers. “Watch and learn.” She took a slow drag, then exhaled a perfect ribbon of smoke across his face. “Now that’s how it’s done.”

“I’ll get there,” Heliot chuckled, still recovering. His eyes wandered to the notepad on the bed. He picked it up and flipped through the pages, eyebrows rising. Line after line of lyrics filled the paper.

“These are beautiful,” he murmured.

Aera shifted closer, her voice quieter now. “It’s what I do when I’m restless. Or anxious. Helps me breathe. Helps me feel… alive.” She gave a small, wistful sniff and forced a smile.

Heliot glanced up at her, the loose pages still resting in his hand.

“These are beautiful, Aera. They speak volumes.”

She tilted her head, teasing. “That’s a cliché.”

“Then sing them for me,” he said softly, his gaze locked on hers.

Her smile wavered, uneasy. “Umm… no, Heliot. I’m a mess right now.”

He shook his head, warmth in his voice. “No, you’re not. You’re perfect.”

For a long moment, she just stared at him, then shifted closer, draping her legs across his lap until she half-straddled him. Her voice lowered, tender, almost pleading.

“I’ll think about it… but right now, can I just have some peaceful time with the love of my life?”

Her look melted him. Heliot slipped the note aside and pulled her closer against his chest.

“I’m all yours, cupcake.”

She giggled quietly, nuzzling into him—then, as though remembering, asked, “Your friends…? The other day felt so bizarre, I never really caught up with what was happening. I hope they’ve managed things.”

Heliot’s thoughts flickered back to Salvor—and the secret that still hung between them.

“They’ll be fine,” he said carefully. “I’ll introduce you properly someday.” He tugged absently at his hair.

“Hm.” She sniffled, pressing her face into the curve of his neck. “I’m just glad you’re here with me again.”

“I’m always here, baby.”

His hand traced the curve of her hip, the other sliding across her back in slow reassurance. But inside, he wondered how long always could last—before Salvor’s reckless charity mission shattered everything again.