"Jeremiah...You might want to put some pants on first," Dylan whispered, pointing to Jeremiah's lower body. Jeremiah quickly put on his new clothes--new green pants and a black tee--and joined the living. Tamara was chatting with Belle. Heather was reading out of her book, periodically making focused or confused faces, making small gestures, then showing a face of understanding. Dylan was doing some sort of Tai Cheng exercise, and August was fiddling with some of his materials.
But what surprised Jeremiah was that Eden and Portcullis were in the chamber, too. Until now, they had been in the Eden Hole, which went who-knows-where. Now they simply were reading--Eden reading a book with a cover that read The Demigod Spartan and Portcullis was reading Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. He had always struck Jeremiah as a classics reader. Jeremiah walked up to Eden. "Hey, are you the only two Destined here, aside from us?" Eden shook her head. "No, not at all," she responded. "No. Our oldest is the sole survivor of the first team--a master of light named Tyler. He's about...sixty now?" Jeremiah immediately imagined Tyler as Colonel Sanders, for some reason.
Eden suddenly closed her book, got up, then went into the Eden Hole. Moments later, she came out with lunch that she set down on August's table. Lunch was fried chicken--perhaps his image of Colonel Sanders was a prophetic vision. Jeremiah doubted that, though.
The six ate lunch in relative silence, then went back to whatever they were doing. Jeremiah approached Dylan, who had finished his Tai Cheng and was now sitting on his bed. "Have you ever had a crush on someone?" Jeremiah asked him. Dylan nodded lightly. "Oh, yeah, once or twice, I think."
"Well, what's it like?"
"You kind of get this feeling in your gut whenever you see them or talk about them. You'll find them more attractive than other people, sometimes you find yourself staring at them, or in serious cases, you may be unable to stop thinking about them."
Jeremiah thought about each of Dr. Dylan's "symptoms" as he went along. When Dylan was done, Jeremiah made a realization: He had a crush on Heather. It made so much sense. But... "Can it be at first sight?"
"Oh, yeah, easily. And often, too." Jeremiah thought that Dylan was a very trustworthy person, despite knowing him for a solid fifteen hours. It was probably the fact that they together called forth Siorrg that made him think that way. "Dylan," Jeremiah began. "Can you keep a secret?
"Depends on its importance. Based on our current conversation, I would say yes."
Jeremiah went for it. "I have a crush on Heather."
Dylan didn't seem surprised. "She's a lovely person." Jeremiah felt better, letting that tidbit out. Portcullis had apparently finished Great Expectations and was now standing up, giving an announcement. "That's right! I will allow you to use the training room at your leisure. You may come in at any time." Portcullis snapped his fingers. "Youngster." The door appeared from the wall and a doorknob grew on it. Jeremiah guessed that "Youngster" was a code word that allowed the teens access to the room. Dylan stood up from his bed. "That reminds me," he remembered.
Dylan snapped his fingers. Almost immediately, a door opened behind Dylan, on the opposite side of the room as the "exit door." Eden laughed. "That's right," she said. "You Destined have your own rooms. No need for this awkward situation." Eden went around, tapping the beds and making them turn into mats while the teens snapped their rooms into existence.
Jeremiah's was simple. A dresser, bed, and closet, all in multiple shades of grey. He loved that aesthetic--it gave him an old-timey vibe. Dylan let him see his room, which contained some blue-and-white patterns shaped like waves, a pirate ship diorama, and a metal cutlass hung above his bed. "Really pushing the pirate theme. Belle would be proud," Dylan joked.
After checking out their new rooms and hanging impromptu signs on their doors with their names on them, Jeremiah and Dylan went to look at the training room. It was everything that two teenage guys armed with a spear and a cutlass would need--magic dummies that would regrow limbs when they were sliced off, evil punching bags that insulted your mother each time you hit them, and lots of weight training equipment. Dylan immediately went to one of the elaborate weight machines that Jeremiah could never figure out and started using it like an old pro. Jeremiah began having a "yo mama" duel with a punching bag. "YO MAMA'S SO FAT, HER STOMACH IS THE WORLD!" The punching bag would shout as Jeremiah impaled it. "Oh, yeah? Well...YO MAMA'S SO FAT, WHEN SHE STEPPED ON THE SCALE, IT SAID 'TO BE CONTINUED!" And so on.
Eventually, Dylan had to stop weight training because he couldn't stop laughing from the epic insult duel. At some point, Heather had come in. Jeremiah gave up fighting the punching bag and noticed her standing there. "I don't think punching bags have mothers," She pointed out.
"YEAH, DOOFUS!" The punching bag screeched.
"You stay out of this, Gaylord!" Jeremiah called back. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"
"Oh, I made this flower. Here." Heather handed him a dandelion(Author's Note: This flower is very important. Remember this flower). Jeremiah nodded a thanks and wondered why she handed him this flower? Did it have some sort of purpose? Did this mean Heather liked him? Jeremiah had no idea. He was built for stabbing and teleporting, not this 'feelings' crap. Still, he put the flower gently in his belt.
Dylan, surprisingly, didn't give Jeremiah any crap about the fact that Heather gave him a flower. He just asked to see it, and when he did, shrugged and gave it back. The teens were called for dinner. Now it was mashed potatoes with gravy. "So," Jeremiah said. "How was your day, guys?" August loved his new "forge with a bed," as he described it. Belle's room had lots of sharp things. Jeremiah asked Belle if she could call forth can lids. Belle made a bewildered face and shook her head.
Tamara had tons of scrolls about dragon heritage and battle arts. Heather's room was perfect for an herbalist-slash-alchemist, with vials of different chemicals and shelves of plants. "I even found this one simple recipe for a flower that I made for kicks, but its name was torn off," Heather said with a confused face.
After dinner, the teens went to bed. Jeremiah nestled into his perfectly firm comforter, ready for day two with Flicker.