Julia looked up, coming out of the daze that falling while deep in thought had caused. There was a man looming over her. She didn’t recognize him, but she would guess he was involved in the butchering trade from all the blood on his clothes.

  “Can’t ya see I’ve got a heavy load, here? What if I’d dropped this sack? Guts everywhere, kid. Not pretty.”

  He was carrying a large, brown sack on his shoulder that looked…wet. The good news is he doesn’t seem to have recognized her. He’s not overly hostile—just annoyed at being inconvenienced. She could still get out of this without much troub—blood. Blood on his clothes. And…guts.

  Guts? Spilling out of dead bodies. Fire burning her family’s cart. Licking at her clothes and exposed skin. Her family, running from the overturned cart. The sounds of their horses’ death throes.

  She told herself it’s just pigs’ blood. The guy just said he was carrying guts. He’s a butcher or something.

  “Hey, kid. You alright? You hit your head when you—”

  She didn’t know when she started running, but she was in a full sprint now.

  “Take her! Take her and run! The town’s not far from here! I love you both! Go!”

  Her father, yelling at her and Mother to run—drawing the sword at his waist. He doesn’t know how to use it. He’s a merchant. He has guards to do the fighting.

  The guards are dead. Their bodies, back by the cart. Killed when it overturned and in the assault that followed.

  She was running. She heard sounds of fighting behind her. No, not fighting. Dying. Her father yelling and monsters growling. The growling that was right on their heels, now fading in the distance.

  The screaming. Oh, gods, the screaming. It was her father, she knew. He was suffering. She wanted to look back, but her mother was pulling her hand so hard she would trip if she didn’t watch where she was going.

  Julia threw the door to the house open and, almost operating completely on instinct, sprinted to her room to sit on the floor with her back to the wall.

  Mother is slowing down. Her ankle is swollen. She got hurt when the cart flipped on its side.

  “Julia, baby. I need you to run. I need you to run as fast as you possibly can. Get to town. Get help. I’ll catch up with you. Momma will catch up with you.”

  “Momma, I don’t wanna leave—”

  “NO, Julia. GO! I will catch up with you! Go, fast!”

  Mother pushed her, and Julia ran as fast as her stubby legs could carry her. She could hear her mother’s footsteps fading behind her.

  “Julia,” a voice called.

  She sprinted until she thought her lungs would explode. She was heaving and panting, but still she ran.

  “Jules,” she heard the voice again.

  She made it to a bridge over a small stream. Yes! She knew this bridge! The town wasn’t far.

  A man with a walking stick was walking towards the bridge from the direction of the town. He looked at her in confusion, but then she heard the scream from behind her—

  “JULIA!”

  Julia jumped and thumped the back of her head against the wall she was leaning on.

  “Julia, sweetheart, look at me,” said a gentle voice.

  She looked toward the origin of the voice. It was Braden. His face was very close to hers. He looked so calm. How could he be so calm? She felt like she couldn’t breathe. She was breathing so hard and fast, but still it wasn’t enough. The blood—

  “Julia, look at my eyes. What color are they?”

  Odd question. They’re obviously violet, like always.

  “Here, give me your hand.” Braden put her hand in a small satchel full of…dirt? No, too fine. Sand. Must be sand. “Run it through your fingers. Is it smooth and fine sand? Coarse? Is there anything else inside, or is it just the sand?” coaxed Braden.

  Julia felt around the little bag for a second or two. Just sand, as far as she could tell.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “Here, smell it,” Braden said as he lifted the drawstring opening to her face. She recoiled a little. It didn’t smell bad, necessarily. It had that earthy smell, but it got all caught in her nose. It felt icky when she inhaled. It made her want to cough.

  “Sorry. Probably no need for smelling it. Let me just—whoops. I spilled a little. Can’t really see it against the wood floor. Blends in. Can you run your hand along the wood beside you? Point out spots where the sand landed?”

  She got up to her knees and ran her hands along the floor beside where she was sitting. She could feel the sand scratching at her palm and pointed to it.

  “Thanks,” Braden said with a small smile. He made a gesture with his hand, and the sand just flowed back into the bag. Earth magic, she knew.

  “If you could do that, did you really need me to find where the sand had fallen?” Julia asked skeptically.

  Braden chuckled.

  “No. Could’ve just grabbed it with magic without knowing its exact location. Feel better? Your breathing has slowed down to a more normal speed.”

  Julia realized suddenly that, as he said, she was no longer breathing fast or hard. She was inhaling normally, and air seemed to come with it. Perhaps a little faster than normal, but the important thing was that she could breathe. Contrary to just a minute ago, where it seemed like no matter how much air she gulped, she couldn’t get enough.

  “Yeah…I…I don’t know what was happening,” Julia said uneasily.

  “I see. Well, back in…uh…well, a place that’s very far away, that would be called a panic attack. Panic attacks are usually caused by worrying about things in the past or the future. What we did, engaging your senses to feel, smell, and see, was called grounding.

  If you’re panicked about things in the past or future, we just need to firmly anchor you in the present. And there’s scarcely anything more present than your five primary senses.

  Fortunately, we seem to have caught it early, so you came out of it relatively quickly. Hyperventilating, that’s the really fast breathing, can make you lightheaded enough to pass out eventually.

  The good news is that, although they’re frightening and disorienting, panic attacks very rarely cause injuries. I say this to, hopefully, comfort you with the knowledge you’re not in danger rather than minimize how scary the experience is.”

  He held out his hands, and she crawled over to him and hugged him around the middle. He picked her up, walked over to the bed, and sat down. He positioned her on his lap and started rubbing her back. They sat there comfortably for what felt to Julia like an hour. It was probably closer to ten minutes, though.

  At this point, Trixy came bounding into the room. Julia wasn’t allowed to take Trixy with her to the quarry since it was very likely a dangerous place for a little ferret. Trixy must’ve been entertaining herself outside in the yard until this point.

  She bounced up onto the bed and, perhaps sensing the mood, curled up in Julia’s arms. Julia smiled while she petted her. There was something calming about petting Trixy that she didn’t quite understand but was grateful for.

  “Would you be willing to tell me what triggered this? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. And, if you are willing, take your time. We’re not in a rush.”

  She thought about Braden’s request for a minute or two. She wasn’t too keen on revisiting any of the things she had just experienced. In fact, her memories of the last hour-or-so were pretty hazy. She figured he wouldn’t ask for no reason, though.

  “I was walking home from the quarry and was lost in thought. I-I wasn’t paying enough attention. I bumped into a man and fell on my back. When I looked up, his apron was covered in blood. He said he had guts in the sack on his shoulder that would make a mess if they spilled. It made me…it made me think about…that day…all the blood…”

  “I see. A butcher, most likely?” Braden interrupted.

  “Probably,” Julia agreed.

  After a half-minute of silence, Julia looked up at Braden. Not an easy task, sitting on his lap like she was.

  “What did I do wrong?” she asked.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, you sweet, sweet girl. Sometimes things like this just happen. What you went through was…terrible. Not something a child as young as you were at the time, or even someone your current age, can handle. Actually, most adults wouldn’t be able to handle the things you saw and went through, either. Such traumatic events will find ways to keep popping up throughout the rest of your life. Often at the most inopportune times.

  This was just the perfect storm, from what I can see. You were already contemplative, so you were likely already considering related issues. Thinking about feeding mana to Trixy again? That’s pretty blood-and-violence-adjacent already. Then, you bumped into someone covered in blood, which also triggered your social anxiety even without factoring the blood in. These were pretty much perfect circumstances to trigger your trauma.

  Back in…in that place I mentioned before—the one that knows about things like panic attacks—there are people whose entire jobs are helping people deal with this kinda stuff. Unfortunately, I don’t know much about these things beyond what I’ve already demonstrated like the grounding technique, and that was honestly a guess based on some things I read a long time ago.

  I’ll help as best as I can, but I don’t really know what to do or what will be the most effective way to help you. I think we just have to take things one day at a time. I’ll help however I can, though. I’m always here for you. Anything you need or want to talk about. I’m always here. Even if it’s the only thing I can do for you.”

  Hearing that there was something even Braden didn’t know how to fix was a shock to her. He always knew how to do everything. Anything she ever had a question about, he always had an answer. This was new ground for her. She also found it strangely…comforting?

  It was strange to think the things he described would be comforting for her, but for some reason, the fact that it was something that even Braden didn’t know how to handle made her feel better—made her feel like she was justified for feeling helpless to that attack since even he didn’t know much about it or how to handle it.

  It was also comforting to know he didn’t think less of her for sprinting through town, likely with tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t remember it clearly, but there’s no way she wasn’t crying her eyes out at the time. She was almost glad she couldn’t remember something that would likely be embarrassing.

  “Ok. Thanks,” she said.

  “Of course,” Braden said with a smile.