Firebrand Risk
Breeching Halcyon Hall
May 31, 2024
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Bennett School for Girls, Halcyon Hall

Panel 1. Halcyon Hall, Millbrook, New York, nighttime. The windows glow with light. The shrubbery able to be seen is tidy. The building exudes stateliness and warmth.

Panel 2. Babette de Benedetto—late teens—is kneeling, pressed up against the stone wall of Halcyon Hall. Her curly, black hair is knotted in a bun. She wears trousers and a long-sleeved blouse, but a short, black cape covers most of her torso.

Panel 3. Babette holds a Colt pistol, pointing it down at the ground.

Panel 4. Arlene crouches next to Babette. She wears the same short, black cape as Babette, but is wearing the hood. Arlene has a strained, worried expression.

Arlene

The rest of campus is dark. It must only be the coven awake.

Panel 5. Arlene’s blue eyes widen in fright.

Arlene

Is that your father’s pistol?

Panel 6. Babette pulls on her hood.

Babette

Stay at my back.

Panel 7. Arlene grabs the end of Babette’s cape to stop her from fully standing.

Arlene

You mustn’t!

Babette

There is no other choice.

Arlene

But, Babette…

Babette

They should well know the consequences!

Panel 8. Babette stands, hand on the doorhandle ready to enter.

Babette (v.o.)

I gladly would leave this to others—

Panel 9. Babette charges through the door, gun drawn. Arlene follows with one hand out and the other clutching the gem hanging around her neck.

Babette (v.o. continue)

—but then I wouldn’t make a good leader.

Panel 10. A college-aged girl in black appears. Her outstretched hand has a chunky ring with a jewel on it. Her hand is glowing as if made of embers.

Panel 11. Babette squares herself and pulls the trigger.

Panel 12. The witch falls back, dead.

Panel 13. Arlene appears petrified. Babette is standing resolute, but her hand shakes.

Babette

They’ll be aware of us now. Stay guarded.

Panel 14. Arlene keeps her terrified expression.

Arlene

You killed…. This is too much. We cannot fight the whole Halcyon Coven just us two!

Panel 15. Babette grabs her wrist to steady her gun hand.

Babette

They mean to wipe us out. We had little choice.

Panel 16. They raced through the dimly lit, stately hall with Babette in the lead. Her gun stayed down while Arlene kept her pose with one hand up and one clutching her necklace. There are sounds of several people moving erratically upstairs, some shouts to alert others.

Panel 17. Babette shoots a witch on the stairs as she heads up. Arlene is facing the ground floor, blasting another witch off her feet with a slice of wind.

Panel 18. Babette glanced over her shoulder.

Babette

Don’t leave any alive!

Arlene

I cannot! That’s too far!

Panel 19. A fireball blasts apart a door at the top of the stairs, sending Babette stumbling down a few steps. The coven Matriarch—aged in her sixties with her hair and clothes stereotypical of a school marm—is framed by the destroyed doorway with her hand like embers.

Panel 20. Babette’s hood is off due to the blast. She glares at the Matriarch.

Panel 21. The Matriarch glares back.

Matriarch

It’s the de Benedetto Coven! Raid! It’s a raid!

Panel 22. Babette rushed towards the Matriarch.

Panel 23. Babette shoots once, twice, but the Matriarch deflects both with a mostly invisible shield.

Panel 24. Babette dives down, shooting low.

Panel 25. The Matriarch yelps, faltering, as the bullet rips the hem of her long dress, blasting the wooden floor.

Panel 26. Babette rolls towards the Matriarch, firing another shot. The Matriarch has already rushed from the path, swinging her hand down at the floor.

Panel 27. The floor splinters in a jagged line towards Babette.

Panel 28. Babette rips off her capelet, grips an Italian cameo pinned to her shirt, and throws her hand towards the floor. The line abruptly stops like slamming into an invisible wall.

Panel 29. The Matriarch’s face twists.

Matriarch

Secure the witchboy! Stop that little witch!

Panel 30. The Matriarch sneers.

Matriarch

Leave me to handle Babette.

Panel 31. Babette tucks the pistol away, glancing down towards Arlene.

Babette

Run, Arlene! Find him!

Panel 32. Babette holds out a hand like a shield, the other gripping the cameo. Arlene races off, still on the ground floor and trailed by two witches.

Panel 33. The Matriarch adjusts the clunky, gemmed bracelet on her wrist.

Babette (v.o.)

She is too practiced to tip her hand. She means to bait me to attack first.

Panel 34. Babette’s hand clutching the cameo glows.

Babette (v.o. continue)

So be it.

Panel 35. Babette clasps her hands together, pulling and swirling them apart to gather particles in the air.

Panel 36. The air between Babette’s hands turns smoky and sickly hued.

Panel 37. The Matriarch’s eyes widen fearfully; she steps back and starts to rapidly, repeatedly, draw a circle over her head.

38. Babette pulls her hands apart and disperses the smoky, sickly air towards the Matriarch. A gentle drizzle started over the Matriarch’s head, but she was now coughing.

39. Babette pulls her broach off her shirt and draws a line down her arm with the pin. A line of hot, glowing light follows the path.

Babette

Return my brother, and this ends.

40. The Matriarch snarls. Lightning is sparking on her fingertips. She is not coughing anymore, now sopping wet from the drizzle dispersing over her head.

41. The glowing light spreads across Babette’s arms, looking like lava and embers. The sparks on the Matriarch’s fingers look weak and dull in comparison. A hint of frustration over this is on her old face.

42. The Matriarch struck first this time, sending a jagged bolt of electricity directly towards Babette’s face.

43. Babette blocked with her arm, the magma light brightening as she absorbed the brunt of the magic. Babette clenched her teeth and winced as the residue electricity raced over her, static’ng her curls.

44. Babette counters with throwing a handful of glowing, hot rocks at the Matriarch with one hand, following with a blast of heat from her other.

45. The Matriarch waved her hand, deflecting the hot air. A burst of steam hisses as the rocks hit a wavering water shield.

46. The Matriarch shrieks as the rocks pepper her, knocking her to a knee.

47. Babette steps closer, burning brightly, and with more glowing rocks dancing in her hand. She is staring down at the Matriarch.

Babette

You should have returned my brother.

48. The Matriarch grits her teeth, flicking her hands.

49. The Matriarch stares at her hands in shock.

50. The Matriarch stares up at Babette with more fear than defiance as Babette’s shadow crosses over her.

51. Babette’s expression is grim as her flames light her face, the Matriarch’s cries and shrieks deafening.

52. Babette dashes off, pinning her broach back to her shirt. Over her shoulder is the charred remains of the Matriarch, still kneeling in place. The blackened floor is crumbling beneath her.

53. Babette is drained, sweat on her brow and hands shaking. She rests against a wall and hold her hand out.

54. Babette’s hand flickers a glow, dies, and leaves her with a pained expression.

Babette (v.o.)

I over exerted.

55. Babette checks the gun’s magazine.

Babette (v.o. continue)

I’ll need to reload next encounter.

56. Babette runs off.

Babette (v.o. continue)

I hope Arlene is safe.

57. Babette skids to a halt and ducks behind the corner she nearly clears.

58. Three witches loiter outside a wooden door, murmuring inaudibly. They appear bored and sleepy.

59. Babette’s face lights with excitement and relief.

Babette (v.o. continue)

There you are!

60. Babette steels herself, exhaling and holding the pistol ready.

61. Babette whips around the corner and fires.

62. The middle witch yelps as the bullet rips into her shoulder. The two others stare at her in puzzlement, defenses half-raised.

63. Babette drops the empty magazine, shoving a fresh one in place. She is still moving forward, zigzagging.

64. Babette fires again and hits the left witch squarely through the neck. The right witch is fully on defense. The middle witch is still crying and holding her shoulder.

65. Babette winces as the right witch lashes out, slicing her upper arm with a bright, mint green energy. Babette fires and hits the right witch just as the slice hits her arm.

66. The middle witch disappears inside the door they had been guarding.

67. Babette bursts through the door after her.

68. The room was a bathroom with three stalls and three sinks.

69. Babette looks at the tiled floor.

70. Blood droplets.

71. Babette keeps her pistol up near her shoulders, creeping along the blood trail.

72. Babette stops outside the last stall, at the end of the blood trail. Muffled, sobbing, wheezing is coming from inside.

73. Babette kicks open the door.

Babette

Where is the witchboy?

74. Babette pulls the trigger before the witch waves her hand or opens her mouth.

75. Babette storms into the hall, gun poised.

76. Babette runs up a floor.

77. The floor is empty, darkened, and full of closed doors. There is eerie creaking sounding throughout the hall.

78. Babette remove her broach, squeezing it hard enough for the pin to puncture her hand.

79. Blood droplet hits the wooden floor.

Babette (o.s.)

Truvari. Frati.

[Find. Brother.]

80. Babette falls against the wall, breathing hard. The blood droplet on the floor glows, and a thin line of light stretches from it.

81. Babette grits her teeth and staggers down the hall.

82. Babette turns a corner. Indistinct murmuring reaches her ears.

83. Babette squares against the door, taking a deep breath.

84. Babette taps the door with the gun, waits.

85. The doorknob twists. Babette kicks it, knocking it inward and toppling the witch on the other side.

86. The room beyond the door was a small dorm with two beds. Four witches were in the room; three sitting in the middle of the room and one fallen over near the door. The three in the middle were surrounding a boy of fourteen that greatly resembles Babette (olive skinned, brown eyes, thick and curly black hair—short).

87. One witch sitting on the floor was holding a bloody knife. The witch behind the boy was forcing his arm out. There was a cut dribbling blood on his forearm.

88. Babette’s eyes blaze.

Babette

Zinnia, down!

89. Babette shoots the witch behind Zinnia, and the one with the knife. The third on the floor is lunging for a wand on the nightside table.

90. Babette rounds on the third witch.

Zinnia (o.s.)

Babs, watch out!

91. Babette is knocked back by the door smashing into her. She fires into the ceiling in her disruption. The fourth witch is readying a wand while bracing against the door.

92. Babette shoots through the wooden door. First shot skims the fourth witch’s shoulder, eliciting a surprised yelp. Second shot pierces her, dropping her.

93. Babette shoulders the door, shoving the body aside and opening the door wider.

94. Babette shrieks and drops to a knee as a surge of electricity hits her.

95. The last witch holds her wand steady with one hand. Her other hand is bloody and gripping Zinnia’s arm. There is a smear of blood over her mouth. Her eyes are dilated.

96. Babette shakily raises the pistol off the ground, pulling the trigger despite it not lining up with the witch. It clicks empty.

97. Babette tucks the gun away and grabs her cameo with a trembling hand. Her breathing is jagged.

College Witch (o.s.)

[pained shrieks]

98. Zinnia huddles next to Babette, eyes fearful. He holds the knife used to cut him with one hand. He shakes Babette’s shoulder with his other.

Zinnia

Stand! Please, stand up! Let us go!

[beat]

I’ll find Mamma. Where did you part?

99. Babette shakes her head. Zinnia’s lip shakes.

Babette

Mamma isn’t here.

100. Babette’s vision blurred as she took stock of where the witch was. The witch was cradling her bleeding hand while trying to keep a grip on her wand. She was gritting her teeth, glaring at Babette and Zinnia.

101. Babette tries to stand, but falls back to her knee. Her hand releases the cameo broach.

Babette

Run, Zin.

102. Zinnia holds his bleeding arm to Babette’s mouth. Babette turns her head away.

Zinnia

Lick it.

103. Zinnia touches his wound with a finger.

104. Zinnia forcefully stuck his finger in Babette’s mouth.

105. Babette knocks his hand away, spits uselessly.

106. Babette’s pupils dilate. She stops breathing roughly. She is no longer weakened.

107. Babette snatches her cameo as she stands, holding it out and drawing a circle as she does. A bright bolt of light bounces off the invisible shield as it is drawn.

108. Babette launches a counter, fire burning on her skin before she shoots it.

109. Fire rips across the ceiling, walls, and floor. The beds are on fire. The books burn up. The witch stands in the middle, frantically waving her wand at the flames to keep them at bay.

110. Babette swirled her hand above her head, gathering the heat and smoke. Crackles of electricity appeared in the growing cloud.

111. The cloud burst and dispersed as Babette stumbled. Her hands dropping to her sides and her breathing harder.

112. The witch was still fighting the flames, but most were now out. Her stamina was weakened but miles above Babette’s.

113. Babette’s eyes dart to the knife in Zinnia’s hand.

114. Babette grabs the knife and jumps at the witch.

Babette

Shut your eyes, Zinnia!

115. Babette plunges the knife into the witch’s neck where it meets her shoulder.

116. Babette is sprayed with blood as she pulls and rips the knife out.

117. Babette stumbles away, grabs Zinnia, and half falls out of the room.

118. Babette ushers Zinnia towards the stairs, now leaning heavily on him. Zinnia supports Babette around her waist and holds her arm.

Zinnia

You killed—.

119. Babette pushes Zinnia away to throw up.

120. Babette wipes her mouth, smearing the blood that sprayed on her face.

Babette

There was little choice.

[beat]

Let us get you home. I’ll face consequences after.

121. Babette and Zinnia made their way to the first floor, passing the body of the Matriarch down the grand stairs.

122. Babette wretches open the front door.

Arlene (o.s.)

BABETTE! WHERE ARE YOU?

Babette

Arlene…

123. Babette forces Zinnia outside, handing him the knife.

Babette

Wait for me. I’ll just be a minute.

124. Babette shuts the door between her and Zinnia as she hurries back into Halcyon Hall.

125. Babette cups her hand to her mouth.

Babette

ARLENE!

Arlene (o.s.)

BABETTE?

126. Babette hurries towards the direction of Arlene’s yell, seeing broken and burned pictures and decorative end tables. There were few bodies maimed by magic—two—with signs blood or burnt fabrics to indicate injured had retreated.

127. Arlene was on a decorative wooden bench, legs sprawled out and out of breath. Her hood was off and singed. She was dirty, scuffed, damp.

128. Babette crouched in front of her.

Babette

Thank God! Are you injured?

Arlene

I believe just exhausted. Did you find him?

129. Babette nods and pulls Arlene up.

Babette

He’s out front. We should hurry.

130. Babette helps Arlene back towards the front entrance.

Babette

I will never stop repaying you for your help in rescuing Zinnia. I know you crossed lines—.

Arlene

I’d rather not think on that right now.

131. Babette and Arlene shuffle towards the doors.

Babette

Of course. But, I will not forget this once I lead the coven. I promise.

132. Doors bang upstairs freezing Babette and Arlene in place by the door.

133. Babette yanks the door open, shoving Arlene in front of her.

Babette

Hurry!

134. Babette shuts the door behind her but does not move further. She freezes with her hand on Arlene’s shoulder.

135. Babette’s eyes widen.

136. Arlene was shock-still, wide eyes staring at the knife in her chest. Zinnia held the handle. His eyes wider but expression otherwise neutral.

137. Zinnia rips out the knife. Babette falls with Arlene to the ground, trying to hold her upright.

Babette

Arlene! Hold on, I’ll… I’ll…

138. Babette fumbles her cameo.

Babette

Zin, I need…

139. Zinnia is staring down. Remorseless.

Babette (o.s.)

Zinnia…?

140. Babette drops Arlene as she shoves herself away from Zinnia’s knife, hitting up against the doors.

141. Babette snatches up her cameo and stabs it into her hand with gritted teeth. Glowing power surges from the area, flickering.

142. The glow fades as Babette tries to stand.

143. Babette slides back to the stones, breathing heavy.

144. Zinnia stands above her, her vision fading in and out.

145. Blackness. Thud of Babette falling over.

Zinnia (o.s.)

Sorry, Babs.

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P.Track.35

They diverged into two groups once they landed in San Francisco. The Regere stayed on the jet with Morgan who was fast asleep while Evora escorted Amias, Rhys, and Nellie to the domestic flight gates. She exchanged brief goodbyes–handshakes for Rhys and Amias and a half-hug for Nellie–before disappearing.

With the fight put together at the last minute, Nellie was sitting nowhere near Rhys or Amias. The businessmen she was squashed between ignored her, which gave her the chance for another nap. She was soon jostled awake by the landing.

There was no luggage for them to fetch with Amias having a chic carry-on that they gave him at the gate. Nellie and Amais waited outside a bathroom for Rhys. Amais checked his flipphone.

“Flying international is magic in itself,” he said. “Looking at today’s date, we left China this morning and it is only barely evening. Amazing.”

Nellie glanced at the time, smiling through her grogginess. “The longest nine hours of my life,” she joked.

Rhys reappeared. His face was clean shaved and he had attempted to slick back his straggly hair by wetting it. The small changes immediately made him look less like a mountain hermit and more like the boy in the photo Nellie had tucked in her pocket. The three of them wound around the crowds until they found themselves in the arrivals in a blanket of unbearable humidity.

“Evora scheduled our rideshare for half after five,” Amias said. He looked at his phone. “Should be here shortly.”

They piled into a shiny, black Lexus. Nellie found herself in the backseat with Rhys. She drummed her fingers on her knees as the car whisked them into the stop and go traffic outside the airport.

“So… are you excited to see your sister,” Nellie asked.

Rhys blinked at her as if he’d forgotten she was right next to him. He gave a small shrug. “I suppose so. …We’ve always gotten on well.” He shifted his focus to Amais in front of him. “I take it Evora is arranging for Silas to send Perenelle’s things back to the house? Where is this house? Close?”

“Hardly,” Amais grumbled. “Your dear sister is a charming woman, but her taste in homes is too… rustic.”

“She wanted us to be near Webb so I could be a day student,” Nellie explained.

Rhys gave a little, “ah,” and turned to stare out the window. Nellie chewed her mouth, thinking of how to get him to speak to her again during the long drive. Part of her wanted to ask about the things she overheard on the plane, and part wanted to just yell at him for ignoring her.

She was still a novice on how magic worked. She didn’t need to think too much on it since she had none, but there was something unsettling and wrong about that green glow she saw on the plane. She couldn't find a single memory from her time with Arch and Itzel where she saw such an ominous glow; their colors had always been warm, and not only because Itzel favored fire.

“You’re so quiet back there,” Amias said. “I’d think you’d have much more to say. Shouldn’t you be asking Nellie tons of questions?” He scoffed as the silence continued. “My lamb, how are things with your friend from camp? The girl with the glasses?”

“Oh, Ava? It’s all good now. …Probably. I should call her tomorrow and see if she wants to hang out since I’m back from,” she glanced at their driver, “camp early. Oh wait… My phone…. Guess I could always write her. It’d give me an extra day to sleep.”

Nellie was able to ignore Rhys as much as he her; passing the minutes turned to hours by chatting with Amias. The sun was down and she was fully aware of how little she'd eaten as the car crested the top on the driveway.

Amais was the first to exit the car, having the driver stop at the top of the driveway due to his knowledge of the smoke wolf undoubtedly lurking in the dark. Nellie wanted to take in the sight of the little house with its glowing windows, absorb the sight and the pittering of her heart before stepping into the wet heat that–unfortunately–did not dissipate with the sun down.

“Coming, Commander,” Amais asked. Rhys slowly climbed from the car, and Amais leaned back towards the driver. “My good man, will you idle for just a moment so that I may hug my goddaughter goodbye? Off to the hotel after, post haste.”

“You aren’t staying,” Nellie asked, disappointed.

“Afraid not, my lamb,” Amais said, patting her shoulder. “I need a king sized bed and a soaking tub after that dreadful flight. Besides,” he looked at Rhys, “your father will be on the only couch tonight. I simply refuse to sleep on the floor. But, I must catch up with your charming Nathalie, so I'll be by tomorrow.”

Rhys’s face took on an odd expression that Nellie did not have time to decipher. An eerie howl sounded, taking all of her attention from the two men. She stooped over and held out her arms.

“Ash!” 

She was bowled over without seeing him, either due to the dark or him poofing too close for her to process she couldn’t tell. She laughed, half crying as she fought off the wolf but tried to hug him around his furry neck all at once. He felt significantly heavier since the last time he tackled her.

Amais took Ash's distraction as his chance to leave. Nellie was only just aware the car was pulling away when she heard the front door bang open.

“Creature! If you've dragged me out here over some poor rabbit again… Oh goodness me, it's people!”

Nellie squirmed out from under Ash and was racing down the drive before Nathalie could begin her streams of warnings and apologies over Ash's conduct. There was a shriek of recognition moments before she threw herself into Nathalie’s arms.

“Mom!” She squeezed her tight.

Nathalie held her tightly, petting her matted, auburn waves. “Oh my girl… I missed you so.”

Ash wedged between them with a low, unsure rumble in his chest. It took Nellie a second to remember that she hadn’t returned home alone, timed perfectly with Rhys loudly clearing his throat to gain their attention.

Nathalie squinted into the dark. Then, her breath caught and she clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Sorry to drop in unannounced, Nattie, but may I come in,” Rhys asked. He held out his fist towards Ash, avoiding looking directly at him, to allow him to sniff. “There are a few things I must fill you both in on.”

Ash was left outside to scratch at the door peer through the window as the three humans went in. Nellie sat at the kitchen counter giving way for Rhys to take the couch. Nathalie flitted around the kitchen; turning on the kettle, searching for tea, rummaging through the fridge. She abruptly stopped and leaned onto the counter to stare at Rhys.

“Your hair is much too long,” Nathalie said.

Rhys snorted, shaking his head. “Yes, I'm aware. I’ve been out in the mountains the last six months. I’ll take care of it.” He dug in his pocket. “May I smoke in here?”

“Certainly not,” Nathalie said. “Filthy habit, Rhys. I thought you kicked it before you left England?”

“I reintegrated it the last two or three years,” Rhys muttered. He knitted his fingers on his knees. “It’s so good to see you again, Nattie. How’re Mum and Dad? Winston?”

“All in perfect health,” Nathalie said. “Lillian is engaged to be married. No date yet though, much to Winny’s chagrin. He fears her vision will bankrupt him the longer she thinks on it.”

“Lillan is…” Rhys mumbled under his breath as his eyes slowly widened. “Dear lord, I’ve been away so long.”

“Twenty years or so,” Nathalie said stiffly. “Thirty at least since you left home. You did used to call. Write. Even send pictures and have video chats a few times. There was a visit or two, if I didn’t imagine them.” She busied herself with the whistling kettle. “Tea? Decaf?”

Nellie gratefully accepted honeyed decaf tea and leftover, cold pizza as Nathalie made a cup of strong, black tea–leftover from Uncle Winston’s visit–for Rhys. She searched for crackers but came up with Caesar salad croutons. She apologetically gave them to Rhys in a small bowl along with his tea, and settled onto the couch with him.

“So…,” Nathalie started, her voice fading off.

Rhys took a long sip of tea. “Perhaps, I should ask what you do know to start off?”

“I heard you talking to the Regere,” Nellie said.

“I gathered as much with you and Morgan piled outside the door,” Rhys said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “So? What do you need clarification on?”

“Everything,” Nathalie muttered under her breath.

“Do I have to leave,” Nellie asked, her voice higher. She stared at her half eaten pizza. “Morgan keeps saying that with you back… and looking for Brue… and everything I know now….”

She bit her lip, turning away more as she heard Rhys stand. She felt his strong hand on her shoulder. She peeked up at him and found him smiling sadly.

“Perenelle, I would never force you to leave your mum,” Rhys said. “I’ll tell you everything you wish to know that I think appropriate.”

Nathalie gave a hearty sniff. She excused herself with a little blubber, and went to the bathroom to clean her face. Nellie gulped back a sob and flung her arms around his middle. He smoothed her hair, gave her a pat, and they broke apart with near identical watery smiles.

Rhys cleared his throat. “Now, then… to your questions.” He settled himself back on the couch. “Did you overhear about the possibility of Brecken using you–?”

“As bait,” Nellie finished. “He’s done it before. Said so to my face. Oh, don’t worry! I think it’s better he told me. I know I have to always look twice at anything involving him.” Her blue eyes darted to the bathroom door. “I don’t think it’s the best idea for Mom to know though.”

“I’ll handle my sister,” Rhys said.

Nathalie returned, her eyes bloodshot. She smiled at them and retook her seat next to Rhys.

“It wasn’t just in the hotel,” Nellie said. “I heard you on the plane. And, I saw… glowing.”

“Ah.” Rhys swirled what was left of his cooled tea, setting it back down without taking a sip. “Brecken was a powerful mage in his own right, but he has additional power that is not truly his. Very dangerous power.”

“A curse?”

“A real curse,” Nathalie asked. “Is that why you didn’t want him near Nellie?”

“Part of it,” Rhys said. He knit his fingers together. “Everything goes back much further than ten years ago. Further than twenty-five by eons, but twenty-five is where we start.”

Nathalie frowned. “1999?”

“The dawning of a new millennium,” Rhys corrected. “Each millennium faces the challenge of Tiamat waking. What made 1999–2000–different is that the Realm is considered a figment of the imagination. Technology has all but completely replaced magic. Dragons are for children’s stories. …I’m assuming you understand enough of the Realm that the mention of it didn’t go over your head?”

“Wait, wait,” Nathalie said, holding up her hands and shaking her head. “I need you to slow down, Rhys. What is a ‘Tiamat’?”

Nellie had an inkling that she heard the name recently. Her mind kept latching onto the Regere pulsating that eerie green when she tried to remember where she heard the name.

“Tiamat is… a primordial monster,” Rhys said. “Typhon. Jormungandr. The Leviathan. Vritra. And in her other forms she’s been called Medusa, Lilith, Hacate, Izanami, and et cetera across all myths and cultures. She appears in Genesis as ‘tehom’, the deep.” He sighed heavily. “The point being, she’s the cause of all this. The Y2K scare was not exactly the technological collapse it was advertised to be, but it was catastrophic.”

She knew it was the least important of the details Rhys just gave, but Nellie could not help but get stuck on the small, seemingly trivial tidbit. “Umm… what's Y2K?”

Nathalie and Rhys exchanged a look before they both gave a snort of laughter. It was the most annoying reaction they could've had, and her annoyance must have shown on her face.

“Sorry, Nellie, my love,” Nathalie said, stifling the rest of her laughter. “Y2K was somewhat a branding that was everywhere in 1999. And the Y2K scare was the idea that all the computers would reset to zero.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Something to do with the year ending in a double zero, I think. I cannot quite remember, and it came to naught, so I never cared to learn anything more about it.” Her face took on an odd expression. “Remember I told you of my medical complications? This Y2K nonsense was around the same time.”

Nellie thought back to her conversation with Nathalie all the way back in January, back when she first found out Rhys was her father and Nathalie was really her biological aunt. She remembered bits about Nathalie being sick, and that causing her the ability to have her own children.

What she was still unsure of was how clocks reading double zero would destroy the world. She didn’t get a chance to ask; Rhys giving a dismissive wave akin to Nathalie’s own.

“All the technology side of things was sorted long before the year changed. It is also not important for this conversation. Not that I could explain it any better,” he added with a nod at Nathalie. “The bigger issue, the real issue, was Tiamat waking. And she was thwarted, or at least mostly.”

“Mostly,” Nathalie questioned.

 Nellie wrinkled her nose. “Twarted?”

“Tiamat is… complex,” Rhys said. “More than we even understand. The Keepers understand some of it all, but they're fairly guarded. His Majesty was instrumental in what we assumed was Tiamat's defeat, and he has been most forthcoming in that right…” Rhys stared hard and unseeing at the edge of the coffee table. “But, I cannot shake that there is more he isn't saying.”

Her heart missed a beat. “Was Ira’s mom involved,” Nellie asked.

“Ah, so Brecken wasn't just spouting nonsense saying you had some familiarity with his Highness,” Rhys said.

“He slept on this couch,” Nathalie said gravely, gingerly touching the upholstery she sat upon.

“His father is quite good-natured and down to earth. There is a comfort knowing the son shares some of those traits,” Rhys said. The small, wry smile that had formed when speaking of Clayborne York fell away. “Yes. The mother was there, and instrumental as well.”

“Then, Penny’s mom, this Fox lady,” Nellie said, wriggling in her seat, “she was involved too?”

“My, you do catch on quickly,” Rhys said, the smile returning. Nellie felt her face warm with pride and turned back to her unfinished pizza. “Fox wasn't involved during the Y2K battle, but she had some sort of dealing with Tiamat. Pinpointing when has been most difficult. But, she was always being dragged into something so it fits with her trajectory that she'd find herself up against a primordial monster furious at the world.”

“So… then, Brue…,” Nellie trailed off.

“Your uncle comes into play there,” Rhys said darkly. He sighed heavily. “Brecken’s curse comes from Tiamat. I don’t know if Brue was targeted to punish him, but that is what always made sense to me.”

There was a length of silence as Nellie–and Nathalie–took a moment to digest this. Natahlie quietly asked Rhys if he wanted another cup, and circled around the counter where Nellie sat to turn the kettle back on. She was gaunt and her hands shook, but she still gave Nellie a happy, contented smile that Nellie couldn’t help but return. They were in it together.

Rhys murmured his thanks as Nathalie supplied him with another cup of tea. He was beginning to slump more on the couch; his exhaustion starting to show.

“Now then,” Rhys said, “is there anything else presently? I won’t vanish on you without a goodbye. If you wish to sleep on the rest of your thoughts, I am more than happy to oblige.”

“Are you a Catholic,” Nathalie asked.

Rhys snorted a laugh. “Would that matter?”

“You know how our mother feels about Catholics,” Nathalie said sternly, unable to hide the smirk on her face. She rubbed her hand soothingly across her little brother’s broad back. “Of course, it doesn’t matter.”

“I do have one more thing… I heard you and the Regere saying me and Penny were in danger.” She looked away to avoid taking in Natahlie’s horrified expression. “Ira too. But… you said his danger was different. So…?”

There was a pause before Rhys drew himself up, inflating to look more like the Commander and less like an overly tired semi-mountain man. He gave a small nod.

“Tiamat is a vengeful creature,” Rhys said. “Our assumption was that she cursed Fox and her Majesty, but we only put together what that meant when it was your mother that was cursed.” He stayed rigid. “Her Majesty and Fox vanished. No one was with them, and we were running on multiple theories, but I was there when Brue succumbed to the curse. …I saw her change.”

“Change… in her behavior, or…,” Nathalie trailed off uneasily.

Rhys shook his head. He met Nellie’s eyes. “You mother has wings. You and Morgan wanted my input to narrow down your search. That’s what I give you.”

Nellie went from a twinge of fear and excited apprehension to annoyance. “Wait, that's it? That she has wings?”

“Nathalie and I have much to discuss regarding how your life goes from here out, but I am confident she and I are on the same page on this; you are much too young to jump into all of this.” He held up his hand to stop her protest. “Ah, you may argue with us in the morning. I'll be here for a few days.” He smirked at Nathalie. “If you're all right with me crashing on your couch?”

“You didn’t answer,” Nathalie said quietly. “Nellie asked about the danger she was in, and you deflected.”

“Yes…,” Rhys said. He drained his cup and rested on his knees, fingers knitted together. “Tiamat appears to specifically target women. With Fox and your mother already succumbing to her curse, there is a theory she may already be aware of you and Fox’s daughter. There is a great fear that she may target you in the future.”

Nathalie gave a weak gasp, covering her mouth, but Nellie merely frowned.

“But, you don’t know for sure she only goes after girls,” Nellie said. “Ira could be in danger the same… way….”

Ira told her he and Penny suspected all dragons were originally women. The Piasa Bird she'd faced still had a human face, and while some of her friends referred to it as a male, they were only going off the beard and a quick glance. Nellie–even at that time--had thought the greenish facial hair was more likely part of the transformation.

“His Highness would be in a different sort of threat if the theory of attacking only women proves true,” Rhys said. He stood. “Bed, for now, I think.” He attempted a smile. “You have much to think over.”

“Would it be a curse, just not a dragon—?”

“Perenelle,” Nathalie said, firmly but with tired gentleness, “in the morning.” She also stood, and placed a hand on Rhys’s shoulder. “He’s trying to hide it, but he’s dead on his feet.”

Reluctantly, Nellie slipped from her seat. She hugged Nathalie, swaying for a moment and soaking in the familiarity, comfort, and affection before releasing her. She stepped in front of Rhys, wringing her hands. She lunged at him, squeezed him for half a second, and scurried to her room.

She began to feel the weight of her exhaustion once she was done preparing for bed. Her steps were heavy as she went to her window, wrenching it up.

“Ash,” she hissed into the dark. “Ash. Come here, boy.”

She stumbled away from the window as black smoke filtered through the screen, reforming into the black wolf with red eyes. She hugged him around his furry neck, shushed him, and ushered him to the end of her bed.

Her eyes blinked slowly as she stared at the light coming through the gap at the bottom of her door. She could hear Rhys’s deep voice as the siblings quietly caught up. A smile twitched her lips as she caught a few words of Rhys complimenting Nathalie on how she was being raised. Her eyes closed on his hushed promise that someday, when she was older, she would resume her quest with no interference, only help.

-----------------------------------

And Nellie's book is done! Or books. I still might split it at the Cumberland dragon.

From the start, I wanted Nellie's end to be finding more of her family, most importantly Rhys, and realizing that Nathalie was still Mom. Even with her coming to that conclusion, with her being 12, she still has/had the anxiety over 'these people are more related, they'll claim rights'. Rhys sets that to rest for her. (Legally, no one could make Nellie leave because Nathalie has legal guardianship, and Rhys would've had a hard to impossible time proving he was a fit father with a 10 year absense.)

Rhys also sets up the rest of the serise with the reveal of Tiamat (I need to remember to put a picture in the chat). It was fun piecing together how widespread this Babylonian primortial diety was: dragon-esque serpants are very common around the world. Tiamat is especially venegful compared to some of the other dragon-types Rhys mentioned (and 100% always seen as a female). I did not know about her possible link in the Book of Genesis, (shockingly, I don't read ancient Hebrew or kione Greek, lol) but that just added a whole other level of seriousness in my mind since the Bible is still current while the other myths are not practiced/believed. And, it tied so nicely back to the original roots of the Order of Ferblanc being the exorsism and templar branches of the early church.

Penny will be next!

Thanks for reading!

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Beginnings of Friendship
A Tale of Ace Gallagher Short from Book 1

Now alone in Ben’s front room, Ace and Athena–and the bare beginnings of their friendship–found themselves sitting in a very awkward silence. Whatever casual conversation may have begun at any other point in time was stifled with the weight of their newfound knowledge. Ace’s mind was swimming with all he had learned about his father, his curse, and the seemingly impossible feat of breaking it. Athena, on the other hand, knew Ace had to be struggling a great deal, but worried she didn’t know him well enough to try to talk him through it.

Despite thousands of other thoughts to chase, Ace knew he couldn’t ignore the young woman sitting on the other end of the couch. “Um–so,” he began, though his words dried up before he could continue.

Athena pressed her lips into a faint smile. “I’m sorry about… all this,” she shrugged when she, too, lost where she had been trying to go.

He hummed, half-shrugged, and reached over his shoulder to scratch his back, “I guess I’m glad to get some answers; I just wasn’t quite expecting them to be so… drastic,” he paused to scowl, “and deadly.”

“And now we know where to start,” she nodded, her tone remaining positive. “Before long, we will know exactly where to go and exactly what to do to break the curse.”

His eyes narrowed skeptically. “You think so?”

The smile continued to warm her face. “I know so.”

The smile was beginning to rub off on him. “Are you really going to come with us to find Prince Ingarathos?”

“Absolutely,” she gave a short nod.

A grin tugged at his lips. “You don’t mind putting your valiant quest of becoming a lady swordsmith on hold to join with some random stranger you just met on a quest that may or may not even work out?” 

She broke into a short laugh. “Of course–except that I think it will work out.”

He bowed his head almost sheepishly. “Well… thanks.”

She simply smiled again and glanced toward the door.

Ace followed her line of sight. “Well, don’t feel like you need to stay here. I mean–I was thinking of going back to my place, but–you know–I’m already here…”

Athena found a smirk, noticing the haughtier tone his voice took and the casual way he stretched his arms over his head. “As a matter of fact, I had just left the inn I’d been staying at this morning; I was hoping to settle into a new apartment, but it wasn’t available after all.” She gestured to the bag and thin rapier near the door. “I have all of my belongings with me, and I will graciously accept Ben’s hospitality so I don’t have to look for somewhere to stay at this time of night.”

“Oh,” his arms fell against the back of the couch. “Well, that was lucky.”

“Or meant to be,” she tilted her head as the smile widened.

His face flushed and he instantly slapped a hand to his cheek in the guise of scratching near his ear.

She tried to stifle another giggle as she turned away, also finding herself blushing. “I just need to go check on Allan and give him some water and a snack before I settle in.”

“Oh!” Ace got up with a start. “I’ll go see what we’ve got. Ben almost always has some chicken of some sort. Hopefully it’s cooked...”

Athena laughed as she followed him into the kitchen. “I take it you used to live here? At least, that’s what I gathered from some of Ben’s comments.”

“Yeah,” he opened the electric-powered refrigerator and started rummaging through a wide array of bottles. “I ran away from home when I was twelve, and Ben was the only person I could think of to run to.”

“You ran away?” Her face twisted in concern. 

Ace, still turned away, didn’t notice. “Yep. My adopted mom had kept in touch with Ben for a while, and miraculously, I remembered how to find him.” Ace turned back to her with a paper package in hand. “Would this work?”

She opened the package to find a cooked chicken breast and nodded, but her frown remained unchanged. “Why did you run away?”

It was his turn to frown as he returned to face the refrigerator. “My adopted dad was abusive, and I got tired of it.”

She took a step back. “Oh, Ace; I’m sorry.”

He shrugged and managed to find a bottle that didn’t contain some sort of unknown liquid. “Sweet–apple cider! Want some?”

“No, thank you,” she took another step back, still holding the chicken. “I’ll just get some water for Allan.”

As Athena turned to the cabinets over the sink to find a cup to hold water, Ace had taken another paper package of chicken and the bottle of cider and sat down at the table. As he ate, he watched Athena carry the chicken and water outside, and then caught a glimpse of the raven landing on her arm through the half-covered window.

Alone with his thoughts, his mind wandered wistfully to his previous family: a mother who had just lost her own baby stepped into the adoption clinic moments after Ben had walked in with a starving newborn in tow. It seemed like pure luck that she was able to immediately accept the “unnamed Gallagher baby,” name him Michael Harley, and bring him home to be the younger brother to her four-year-old son.

“James,” he spoke the name aloud as memories of his childhood flooded his thoughts. A smile warmed his lips, at least until the memories touched upon the father of the family.

His adopted father had originally been accepting of this new addition; but, as time went on, the man began drinking more and caring less. The son of the “Siren of Fortanya” was born out of back luck, after all; and he brought that misfortune upon their family. Ben, who came to visit every once in a while, was now a threat and was banned from his home. And the worse things got for the Harley family, the more physical his attacks became–and the more they spread to other members.

The front door opened, releasing Ace from another downward spiral. He blinked himself back into the room, finding Athena returning with a good portion of the chicken package in hand.

“Not hungry?” He asked, eyeing the chicken.

“He ate some,” she returned to the table. “We can save the rest of this for Ben.” She glanced at the table and at the empty bottle of cider and the cleaned chicken bones in front of Ace. “Or perhaps you,” her grin widened.

Ace grunted nervously and looked down. “I hadn’t eaten dinner.”

“I won’t judge,” she set down the remaining chicken on the table beside him.

He smiled, half embarrassedly, and decided a free meal was a free meal.

Silence again seeped into all of the space of the sitting room. Ace was acutely aware of how loud he was when he ate chicken, but he hoped Athena was far enough away not to notice. She had relocated to her pack of belongings and was hanging up her sword belt and small round shield on a rack beside the door. She had also removed her shoes and set them on a small mat below.

When he noticed her standing up and slinging her bag on her shoulder, Ace got up and loudly crinkled both paper packages, and he was sure to make an exaggerated grimace from the sound as Athena approached him. He shook his head as she laughed, but, at once, he felt even more self-conscious when he found the young woman was now lingering beside him with her hands gently clasped around her bag strap.

He casually laid a hand against the refrigerator beside him. “Um–did you need anything else?”

She had just begun to shake her head when the movement slowed. “How,” she paused. “How did you come to be called Ace?”

He huffed the start of a chuckle through his nose. “I meant from the fridge, but…” he leaned his back against it, crossing his arms with a smirk. “When I ran away, I wanted to distance myself from my adopted name; so, I took an old nickname and started calling myself Ace Gallagher.”

“And Gallagher is your mother’s surname,” she recognized.

Ace shrugged. “I was always called ‘Gallagher’s son’ anyway. So, why not embrace it?”

“It suits you.” She finally met his eyes, the hint of a smile playing on her lips.

He, too, felt his lips tug into a smile–and the heat of his face flushing red under her gaze.

With a more pronounced smile, Athena bobbed her head in a short bow. “I’d better get to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” he pushed himself from the fridge, though he wavered in his boots before he got any closer to her. “Um–hope you sleep well!”

“You too,” she slipped past him. “Goodnight, Ace.”

He bolted to the edge of the kitchen, though, once again, found himself hesitating before he could catch another glimpse of her ascending the stairs. When the sound of the door closing reached his ears, he exhaled the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Goodnight, Athena,” he mused, chewing on a smile.

He took a few steps backward before turning to face the couch. He glanced back at it, realizing this would be his bed for the night. He wasn’t sure if it was an upgrade from his hammock, but it looked well-worn and comfortable enough. A blanket was already folded over the backrest, though part of it was inadvertently tucked into the seat cushions.

He gave the blanket a light tug to free it. Two silver pieces popped out from between the cushions.

The silver glinted in his eyes. A thought entered his mind; a thought that–up until that point–had not even surfaced that evening.

He crouched down and began to search the cushions for any more loose change, and he was surprised to find one more coin that had slipped underneath.

He looked at the three coins in his hand. He could bring these to any gambling hall and place a bet. He had given away all he had to Dorian; these coins could be his ticket to earning a few more for their trip. Bengal wouldn’t miss them, considering they had been lost between couch cushions up until that point.

He bit his lip as he stood up. The smallest twinge of regret settled in his stomach.

It subsided almost as quickly, and, with quiet determination, he crept out of the house and into the darkness outside.

 

---

While Mioko and Dorian are visiting Mioko's aunt for lavender oil, Ace and Athena have a semi-awkward but friendly moment alone at Ben's house. He's gone to bed, and the two of them, who had only just met earlier that day, now have to figure out what to do.

One of the fun things that happens with Ace and Athena is how she immediatley begins to influnce him to be a better person. With her, he does not think about going gambling until after she leaves the room. He also doesn't for a second think about how he can con her into taking her money like he has with every other girl he's met to this point. She shows him kindness and brings it out of him as well. That doesn't mean Ace instantly becomes perfect (in fact he struggles again with gambling in book 4) but he now has something to strive for and influence him - and that's also with the others, too. Dorian may be the only other to really start knocking some sense into him, lol.

It's just cute to see how these two start out... 💙

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Old Sketchbook Musings, Part 3

A few more! 

The Outlier Awakens, 9/2020

Outlier Ace is so cool. I wish I could figure out a way to give him this power in the Tale of Ace Gallagher, but part of what makes him who he is is how he does all that he does without any magical assistance. He learns how to work hard and train and put his heart into what he does, and I feel like giving him the ability to control all water would be a bit much. I do think he'll end up with his mom's  totem and the mist spell at some point, but I can only think of one place where he'll use it for plot purposes ;)

Unlikely Allies, 1/2021

Aside from introducing Westfall and reuniting The Doctor and Gemini, my favorite part of the last Gemini Archive was Ace and Elliot teaming up with The Doctor. It was just fun watching how they'd interact with each other.

Showoff, 9/2020

I think I originally gave Outlier Ace his water horse for a scene that never happened in the final Gemini Archive when he teams up with The Doctor. Like they have to run somewhere and Ace is a complete showoff and makes a horse out of water and rides off and Elliot just rolls his eyes and gets on a real horse and The Doctor is like "wait what??" I just like the little look of HAHA on his face.

Into Wildfire, 1/2021

I did not remember this started off as a pencil drawing! But this is one of the ones that actually translated pretty well into digital. I was able to make the fire all fiery anyway. But it's fun to see how it started!

Wedding Day, 11/2020

Awww. Lookit them how cute. I vaguely remember trying to figure out what their wedding outfits will be; ironically I'm not sure their wedding will end up "on screen" after all this because I think I've added a time skip from the end of the jousting tournament story where they get engaged before jumping ~5 years into their marriage. But it's still good for drawing purposes!

Wedding Day Outfits, 11/2020

More figuring of the outfits without them covering each other up, lol. I've actually tried to keep their outfits more medieval since they've always been a weird blend of modern and not. But the story is a bit of a blend on its own.

Give and Take, 12/2020

And this was RIGHT AFTER the drawings of them getting married and that made it hurt even more... the things the plot makes me do I swear 😭

But I definitely didn't realize I've had the "Athena doesn't make it to the end" storyline brewing since 2020... But, this is it, down to the scene, so I guess I've been trying to figure out if it was part of the plot or not since then. But OOF.

Whittacre, 11/2017

My majestic deer!! Look how gorgeous he is. His proportions may be a little wonky but he looks soft. He always ends up been linked to winter in a lot of my drawings.

Winterbourne, 12/2020

Case in point, lol. More Whitacre winter. The antlers seem... backwards? I'm not sure. But this looks like a prime "turn it digital" territory right here...

Qul'tuq sketch, 2023

The first sketch of Klingon Gemini was in my little sketchbook! I do remember this since I photographed it to draw for the rest of the story, but yeah! No idea what her outfit is doing.

You are a Child of Mine, 10/2023

The last drawing in my book... little Hudson in the creek getting baptised :D There's an epic song by Mark Schultz that fits Hudson's struggles and his quest to be who God wants him to be, and I sketched it out I think on a plane. It will need a "real drawing" one of these days.

Next up; I have MUCH OLDER drawings on random papers in a big folder under my bed... once I scan them I'll have to share the fun ones again!

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