Banished Divinity: Learning to be Human

Mina sat at a long table surrounded by her coworkers, a group of artists, designers, and creative directors who had somehow convinced her that this dinner was "mandatory" and "important for team bonding."

She was not happy.

Not because she didn't like her coworkers. They were fine. Good, even. Talented, funny, kind.

But Mina was introverted. The real kind. The kind where social interactions drained her soul like a vampire sucking the life out of a particularly delicious neck.

She had been here for three hours.

Three. Freaking. Hours.

Her social battery was not just empty. It was in the negative, in debt zone. And it was filing for bankruptcy.

How can anyone stare at a screen for hours and not get tired? she thought, watching her coworkers animatedly discuss colour palettes and font kerning.

Then she realized she had been staring at her own screen for the past twelve hours, working on a deadline.

Kettle calling the kettle black, she thought. I'm tired. I want to go home.

The restaurant was loud. The music was terrible. The food was good, but the conversation was better, and then it became a problem.

Because the conversation had moved from work to life.

Pets. Boyfriends. Marriages. Kids.

OH GOD, Mina thought. MARRIAGES AND KIDS. THE WORST SUBJECTS. THE SUBJECTS I HAVE BEEN AVOIDING FOR YEARS.

She took a long sip of her drink, something fruity and strong that her boss had ordered for the table. She was on her third. Or was it the fourth? She had lost count.

The woman beside her, a senior designer in her late thirties who had the energy of someone who had seen everything and was no longer impressed, grinned at her.

"Hey, Mina!" she said, leaning in with a mischievous glint in her eye. "So... you got a boyfriend?"

Exhibit A, Mina thought. The first golden question.

"No," Mina said, her voice flat, her expression carefully neutral. "I do not."

"That's a shame!" the coworker continued, undeterred, waving a dismissive hand. "Hope next year we can attend your wedding?"

Exhibit B. The second golden question. The one that made her want to crawl under the table and never come out.

"Sure," Mina said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Next year. Definitely. I'll send you an invite."

"You better!" The coworker winked and turned back to her drink.

Mina took another drink, her grip on the glass tighter than necessary.

I hate this, she thought. I hate everything. I hate questions. I hate weddings. I hate the word 'boyfriend.' I hate—

"Hey, Mina!" another coworker called from across the table, raising her glass. "So, you're still single?"

FOR THE LOVE OF—

Her boss, sitting at the far end of the table, waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, stop asking her! Can't you see she's trying to enjoy her drink?"

She shushed the coworker by ordering another round of drinks, shooting Mina a sympathetic look.

This is going to be a long night, Mina thought, her jaw tight. And I have a panel to finish by tonight. A PANEL. THAT I HAVE NOT STARTED. BECAUSE I AM HERE. AT THIS DINNER. THAT I DID NOT WANT TO ATTEND.

She checked her phone.

No messages.

Not from Mum. Not from Dad. Not from Sera, her weird and only sister, the only sister who had become something else after the explosion. Something entertaining. Something that made the whole family feel alive again.

How is that idiot? Is she still alive at camp? Mina thought, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. Probably doing something stupid. Like fighting a monster in her delusional weirdo mind. Or arguing with some poor soul about celestial messengers.

She smiled despite herself.

Stupid sister, she thought. Stupid weird sister who talks about bizarre theories and has an imaginary pet that looks like a fluffy green tennis ball.

Or maybe that was just Mina's imagination. Maybe she had had too much to drink. Maybe she was hallucinating from exhaustion.

But then the door chimed, a distinctive, melodic sound that cut through the noise like a blade.

And a couple walked in.

Mina's coworkers, the ones facing the door, all gasped. Not a small gasp. Not a polite "oh, that's interesting" gasp. A full, collective, loud gasp. The kind of gasp usually reserved for celebrity sightings and royal weddings.

Mina's back was to the door. She didn't see what everyone was gasping at.

But the gasp was so loud, so unanimous, so dramatic, that she had to turn.

And that's when she saw them.

A couple.

A ridiculously extraordinary couple. The kind of couple that looked like they had done billions of facial steps to keep their skin flawless. The kind of couple that made you question whether they were real or had been generated by artificial intelligence.

"No way," Mina whispered, her eyes wide.

Standing at the cashier. Tall. With ash-grey eyes that sparkled like stars. Hair as black as midnight, perfectly styled. Skin flawless. Jaw sharp. Posture perfect.

And beside him, walking toward him like she was gliding on air, was a girl.

She was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that made you stop and stare. Dark brown wavy hair that fell past her shoulders. Skin as white as snow. Lips that curved into a smile that could launch ships. She looked like Snow White, if Snow White had stepped out of a fantasy novel and decided to wear designer heels.

The moment they walked towards the cashier was like a scene from a movie. The way they moved. The way the light caught their faces. The way everyone in the restaurant seemed to hold their breath.

Is this real? Mina thought, her heart pounding. Are they really real? Or is there a filming happening nearby?

She looked around for cameras. There were none.

They're real, she realized. Unfortunately.

They waited patiently for the cashier, a young woman who looked like she had just seen her first celebrity, shaking as she packed their dessert. And it was a lot of dessert. Enough to feed an army. Or a very hungry vampire coven.

The man and the woman laughed and chuckled at each other as they spoke. Not a forced laugh. Not a polite laugh. A real laugh. The kind of laugh that came from genuine happiness, from shared history, from two people who actually enjoyed each other's company.

For a moment, the man glanced in Mina's direction.

His ash-grey eyes lingered on her for a second.

Almost as though he had recognized something.

Not her.

Something around her.

Something familiar.

Then he smiled at the woman beside him, accepted the dessert from the cashier, and looked away.

They laugh like we used to, Mina thought, her chest tightening. Like we did. Before everything went wrong.

The pain hit her like a physical blow.