PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 1 --- Tacenda; pl (plural only): Things that are not to be spoken about or made public. Things that are best left unsaid. --- He was unlike anyone else you had seen before. There was a certain confidence about him that drew everyone's eye. His hair was tied back into a messy plait, but it was the color that was the most striking, a bright pink that contrasted the dark red and black of his robes. His face was mostly obscured by the mask of his people, but you could just make out the shape of his jaw and a flash of sharp teeth when he smiled. He was dangerous - but he was magnetic.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 2 --- Versailles (proper noun). The argument over the etymology of Versailles tends to privilege the Latin word 'versare', meaning "to keep turning, turn over and over", an expression used in medieval times for plowed lands, cleared lands (lands that had been repeatedly "turned over"). --- He wasn't like any endermen you had seen before - probably because he wasn't fully an enderman. He was tall like an enderman, but that was where the similarity ended. He was split down the middle - half of his skin the same inky black as the twins, the other half a radiant white. His eyes didn't match either - one blood red and the other emerald green. His hair fell in soft waves, almost obscuring his eyes at times, and he kept his head tilted down, his sharp jawline on display. He seemed timid, but that might have just been the situation - anyone behind bars would likely hang their head.

"I'll read it out for you." Anne said, handing the cigarette back to you. "Wanted; for breaking and entering and robbery. Unknown bandit seen leaping from a window of a bank in Kempton, may be walking with a limp from the fall. Suspected to be about 5'8" and stocky build. Should any leads arise please contact local authorities." --- You hadn't even seen him there, obscured in the darkness of night - and it was obvious that he hadn't been expecting anyone to come out back. He startled, stumbling away from where he had been leaning, and your heart leapt into your throat, surprised in the worst way possible. So surprised, that you threw the bag of vegetable scraps at him as a form of self defense. The bag bounced harmlessly against the man's chest and landed on the ground. Your eyes darted to it first, but then up to the man you had thrown it at - taking in his features from the light streaming out of the still-open door. He wasn't too tall, but he had the build of someone who had known a farm life before - broad shoulders and muscle made for work, not show. His clothes were practical, and he carried a pack strapped to his back. It was his face that was the most interesting though - he couldn't have been much older than you, and he looked kind, for lack of a better word. Open, almost.

You set your phone down when a customer walked in - a boy with fluffy brown hair and an oversized jumper. You watched him wander between the shelves for a few moments, looking sort of lost, as most boyfriends and/or husbands did when they came looking for gifts. Shame too - he was cute. Still, you walked around the counter and over to him to offer your help. You stepped up beside him next to the candles. "Hi, are you finding everything okay?" You asked. "Oh, uh." The boy jumped a little. "I'm just looking for some candles." He said. "Gonna be honest... I'm kind of lost, yeah." You laughed a little. "Would you like some help?" "Yes, thank you." He sounded relieved. You grabbed one of the shopping bags from the nearby rack and handed it to him with a smile. "So are we looking for something for the girlfriend, or mom, maybe?" "Oh, um no." He said, flushing slightly. "I just needed some candles for me, actually." Your smile widened. So no girlfriend... a interesting development.

24 new emails looked back at you from the screen. You could feel the headache setting in, but you opened your email anyway, looking through the new messages. Two from your statistics professor, about a new assignment, another one from the RA in the dorm building, one from the admissions office, about your application to the study abroad program, one from your American history professor- Hold the phone. You rapidly clicked on the email from the admissions office, scanning through the paragraphs. Reviewing your application to the program... taking into account your grades and your major... looking at schools in the area... pleased to say we can accept you into the program. Accepted. Part of you had forgotten that you had applied in the first place; it had been months ago back at the end of last semester, and then you had gone home for the summer and put it behind you. But being back at school had brought it to the forefront of your mind again. This was great. You had needed some good news today. Turning up the music, you danced out of your desk chair and jumped around the room a little, excited. You were going to Mexico for a semester. You could already picture it now - warm weather, good food, and firsthand experience speaking Spanish for at least six months, maybe more. Not to mention all the adventures you could have in a foreign country. This would be something you would remember for years, and just thinking about it made your day better.

The song ended as you merged onto the highway and another familiar song started up - not by Myra but by an adjacent band to the Myracle Makers that you also liked - the Dream Team. You had found out about them through Myra's music (Spotify thought that they went together well) and you had fallen in love with a couple of their songs, and then a couple more, until you were in their top .5% of listeners. They were one of your favorite bands, and their song Florida Smile was a song for the soul. You smiled to yourself, turning up the radio. The familiar beat of the drums pumped through the speakers of your car and you began to sing along as the lead singer - he went by Dream as a stage name (like Dream's Team... haha) - began to sing. You knew all the words by heart. And you've got a Florida smile... sends my heart racing to the mark at the mile...

You were one of the first people to arrive in the piano room - probably because your form room had been so close by. The room was empty when you walked in, so you just made your way to the back of the room, sitting down at one of the pianos near the window. There were no desks in the room besides for the teacher, only keyboards lined up in rows facing the front of the room. You set your books down under the piano, not knowing where else to put them, and sat down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt in your hands as you waited. You would have much preferred for at least the teacher to be in the room - sitting by yourself was not really what you wanted to be doing. You turned your attention to the window in the room, absently watching a couple of songbirds dart in an out of a small shrub while you waited. Hopefully someone else would get here soon and it wouldn't be so stiflingly silent- "Oh. Hello." Your head snapped back to the front of the room to see a boy standing there, hovering awkwardly just inside the door. He was rather short, and his arms wrapped around his books in a hug. You wouldn't have noticed him in the hallway if you had passed him - his height combined with brown hair and brown eyes made him the sort of person that would just blend in to a crowd. He didn't look particularly mean though, so you just tried for a smile. "That's my seat." He said, still hovering by the door.

"You know Austin, right?" Maddy asked. "Like Austin show Austin?" You asked in return. Maddy nodded. "Yeah, that guy. I got a DM from him today about another Love or Host, he wants me to do." "Ah." You said. It wasn't uncommon for Maddy to make an appearance on that particular show - she had been friends with Austin for a good while, and was one of his go-to's when he needed someone to participate. "Who for?" "One of those Minecraft guys, I don't know." She shrugged. "Anyway, Austin said he was short on participants, and I told him that I had a hot roommate who might be down for it, so I wanted to ask if you would consider hopping on for this one." You pursed your lips. "When is it?" "Couple days. Friday night, I think around like 7?" You pushed off the bed, going over to the corkboard that housed your entire life - sticky notes pressed into the shape of a calendar, each labeled with a number and a list of things you had to do that day. You glanced at Friday's note - mostly empty, except for a few online classes in the morning. If you wanted, you could probably do it. You looked back at Maddy. "You can tell Austin I'll do it." She perked up. "Yeah? You will?" "Yeah." You said, pulling down the sticky note for that day and writing down 'Love or Host - 7' at the bottom of the list before sticking it back up, pinning it in place. It wasn't that big of a deal really. They just needed another person to participate - and going on the Austin Show was always good publicity. "Awesome." Maddy said. "Trust me, this is going to be so fun."

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 3 --- Hiraeth (Welsh pronunciation: [hɪraɨ̯θ, hiːrai̯θ]) is a Welsh word for longing or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. The feeling of longing for a home that no longer exists or never was. A deep and irrational bond felt with a time, era, place or person. --- You were close enough that you could see the crew scurrying about on deck now. They looked as ragged as the ship - no sense of unity about them other than that they were all standing on deck together, swords brandished as you approached. You scanned over them and felt suddenly grateful for your sailing uniform - some of those pirates didn't even have shoes. Simon strode the deck, scanning through the ranks for the captain of the Ghost. You had been given some indication as to what she looked like, but when she parted herself from the ranks of her crew, you weren't quite ready for what she actually looked like. They didn't do her justice on the wanted posters back home. She was short, but powerfully built. You could see ram horns sticking out from underneath her extravagant hat, and her coat was a bright blood red - the gold trim faded somewhat. You were most focused on her hair though - pure white and absolutely massive, it looked like a cloud around her head. Stern eyes finished the look, and you couldn't help but be a little bit entranced - this was the kind of person that people were scared to make eye contact with. Simon didn't seem all that frightened when he came to stand on the edge of your own deck, facing her over the narrow strip of sea that separated you - and you were grateful. If you were captain, you didn't know if you would be able to look her in the eye.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 4 --- Gladius, (noun): (in ancient Rome) a short sword. --- Eret perked up as soon as you and Simon walked into the room, a wide and welcoming smile coming onto his face. He was softer looking than his father had been, but you could still see some of the similar traits. He had a head of thick dark curls, and the same sharp jaw that his father had had. He wasn't as bulky though - he was tall and thin - and his face was a lot more open. What separated him most from his father's likeness though was the colorful cape, and the large mirrored glasses he wore - swirling with colors reflected from the room. He stood from his seat when Maven let the doors swing shut behind her, that wide smile still on his face. "You must be the embassy." "And you must be King Eret." You said, stooping into a bow. "Oh, there's no need for that." Eret said as you rose from your bow. He stepped down from the dias where his throne sat - colorful cape trailing behind him - and came to stand in front of you, taking your hand instead. "I'm not really one for formalities." He grinned, shaking your hand. His palm was warm against yours, and you could feel some slight callouses - most likely from practicing his sword work.