Firebrand Risk
The Sentinel's Awakening
A Tale of Ace Gallagher Short from Book #5
August 16, 2024

(This section contains scenes of abuse)

---

“Well, well, well; the rover has returned!”

Elise squeaked and ended up slamming the door she had previously been closing as carefully as possible.

The bare-chested man rose from the tattered sofa and walked slowly over to Elise. “I thought I’d get off early to surprise you, and I ended up being the one surprised. Just where have you been?”

At once, words were terribly difficult to find. “I was–I have–”

To make matters worse, Gavin was now looming over her, peering through furrowed brows like a vulture circling its prey. His beard already smelled of alcohol; he would not be so receptive to reason in this state.

“I–I have a job now–I was working,” she finally spoke, albeit shakily.

“You? Have a job?” Gavin let out a heavy laugh. “You liar! I bet you’re just off trying to meet other boys to make me jealous!!”

“No, Gavin, I swear–”

She was quickly shoved backward while the small handbag on her shoulder was tugged until it was pulled from her arm.

“You could never hold a job,” Gavin began to root through her bag as she clutched at her shoulder, “You’re just a worthless lowlife I’m graciously allowing to live under my roof.”

She watched his eyes grow wide as he pulled out a jingling money-bag. His eyes slowly drifted from the heavy bag of coins to her frail figure.

“All right, Elise; where’d you get this? If I’m harboring a thief, I will not hesitate to call–”

“I told you, I have a job.”

He grimaced. “Doing what??”

“Acting!”

“Acting? Like hell!”

“I’m an actress in a play called ’Higher Ground’ at the Sirius Theatre and I’m... I’m the lead actress…”

Her voice trailed off as the cogs in Gavin’s head began to turn. She wasn’t sure if he had heard of the upcoming play or if she had simply spouted off enough words for him to realize she wasn’t making it up.

He started to nod slowly after a moment, gripping the money bag tightly. “Well, now, that’s very respectable to want to help me out with your upkeep. But I’m not about to let you get any ideas that you can actually make a living being an actress.”

“...Why not?”

“Because I said so!!” He bellowed, spitting his words across her face. “And besides,” he calmed his tone, “I need you to be here at home taking care of things while I slave all day at the warehouse. Why, if you’re off... acting... who’s going to be here to cook and clean?”

Elise took a step back, her brows lowering. Gavin was doing exactly what James had told her he would do. He was trying to make it seem like she could never leave him; he was trying to limit her ability to work with excuses that previously had guilted her into staying home and obeying him. But a spark of courage was now burning ever since James’ words lit the fire.

“I’ve been cooking and cleaning with this job for three weeks now.” She spoke simply.

“Three weeks??” Gavin roared, hurling Elise’s handbag into the wall. He caught her by the arms, shoved her against the door, and thrust his face into hers. “You’ve been disobeying me for three weeks??” His breath reeked as he spat his words, “How much longer were you going to keep up your little charade before you were going to tell me, huh? How long do you think you could hold onto your little secret? Long enough to leave me and go right back onto the streets where you belong??”

The slow crescendo of words peaked on his final phrase that was yelled directly into her pointed ear as she tried to turn away. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she hung lifelessly from her own arms. He was gasping them so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

She was dropped and then slapped across the face. There was a pause before she was struck again.

His shadow fell over her as she lay crumpled on the dirty floor. She was angry, upset, sorrowful, and defeated all at once. But she dared not move.

Gavin’s body rose and fell as he took in and let out a deep breath. “You will not be going back to your job anymore. You will not be leaving this house anymore. Never... do you hear me?”

Her hazel eyes turned upward. “...Can I at least tell them I can’t go back?”

“Oh, sure–trying to be all noble for them, but not for me? I put this roof over your head, and I put those clothes on your body... and yet you’re stomping all over me like I don’t deserve any appreciation!”

“If I don’t tell them, they’ll come looking for me,” her voice trembled as she used the one trick she knew would get past his rage. “Do you want them showing up here to ask for me? Unless you’d like to tell them why I can’t work anymore…”

Gavin tensed and scowled at her words. “Fine. You can go in the morning, but if you’re not back by the time I leave for the warehouse, I’ll personally make sure no one will ever find your worthless pile of bones again.”

He picked up her handbag as he started back to the couch. He would be holding it hostage, as he had often done before, until he felt she was worthy enough to regain it. The money, however, she knew she would never see again.

Elise shakily got back to her feet, wincing from her stinging cheek. It felt puffy and wet, though she wasn’t sure if it was teardrops or blood.

“I’d suggest you get yourself ready in the bedroom,” Gavin’s voice came behind her. “You’ve got me all wound up; I think some relaxation is owed to me.”

Solemnly, she trudged to the bedroom with the humming of the electric light hanging from the ceiling as the only response.

--

As he walked up to the Sirius Theatre in the dawning light, James was surprised to find a thin figure wrapped in an oversized hooded cloak waiting in the shadow of the awning. 

She turned her head to look at him when she heard his footsteps. Her dusty blond hair was lumped out of one side of her hood, covering half of her face. 

“Elise?” He tilted his head as he slowed his pace. “You’re here awfully early.”

She attempted a smile. “I–um... was already awake, so I…”

James, however, pressed his lips into a frown and lifted his hand to her face. 

She held her breath as he gently combed his fingers behind her hair, pulling both the wavy locks and the hood away from her face until there was nothing left to hide her badly bruised cheek.

Pain filled the pit of his stomach. “Elise…”

“...I need to talk to you,” she muttered.

Without another word, James fished the keys from his pocket and turned to unlock the door. He held the door open and ushered her inside.

The two went straight for James’ office, which he also had to unlock before the two could enter, and Elise delicately sat on the chair across from his desk, wrapping herself in the cloak almost out of instinct. James, however, knelt down on the ground beside her.

“James, I can’t be in the play anymore.” She began mechanically.

“He found out and is forcing you out of it.”

She sighed and let her head droop. “It’s exactly as you said... he... he came up with excuse after excuse as to why I can’t... I tried to stand up to him and–”

James placed his hand gently on her arm. “Elise, is it okay if I help you?”

“Help me?” She repeated, “what do you mean?”

James shifted on his knees. “I can help you get away from-mm–him.”

Her eyes grew wide.

“I can give you m–m–somewhere to go; I have a small apartment attached to my house. It still needs a few things, but you can stay in my front room until it’s ready. I just…” his dark brown eyes locked firmly onto hers, "I can’t stand seeing you go through this.”

Her eyes were already welling with tears as he spoke. “You’d… you’d really… I could stay?”

“As long as you need to.”

She pressed her hand against her lips as tears fell down her cheeks. “Why?”

“Because I w-w–went through what you’re going through.”

A new expression was overtaking her face. “...You?”

James stood to get off his knees, idly turning toward the wall. "As I grew up, my father began to abuse us… me, my m–mother, and my brother. He’d–mm–yell at me for n-n–n… this,” he pointed to his mouth and paused to clear his throat. “He pushed my mother around, belittled Michael and called him names, and he’d hurt us if we did something he deemed wrong.”

Elise had sunk backward into the chair. It was hard for her to fathom that she was not the only one who had experienced what she had been living with. In fact, James’ situation sounded remarkably like her own.

“How did you… did you get away?”

James shook his head, his eyes focused elsewhere. “Michael–Ace–was the only one with the courage to leave. I wanted so badly to go with him… but I couldn’t leave my mother. I was too afraid of what he’d do to her.” He let out a sigh, holding his arms tight against his chest. “One night I finally made up my mind to leave... only to find he had m–murdered my mother in the next room.”

Elise’s hands were back at her mouth, unable to hide a gasp under her breath.

James’ eyes returned to her. “That’s why I want to help you. I will not have someone else... die before I am able to help them escape.”

Elise stood up from the chair. The cloak slipped from her shoulders and fell on the ground.

He ducked his head lower to not dwarf her so completely. “Is it okay if–if I help you?”

“Could you... please?”

The squeal of the front door opening jolted her backward, and she fell back into her chair. With her heart racing, she watched as James quickly filled the doorway.

He squinted in the light shining through the glass doors. “...Ed?” He was almost relieved.

“Yep; just checking in on things,” the helmetless patrolman strolled into the lobby. “Ace back yet?"

“Mm–not for a few weeks.”

The patrolman hummed. “Is he planning on staying this time?”

James lowered his stance as Ed paced away from him. “I assume so.”

“Some help he’s giving you,” he glanced at the door of Ace’s locked office. “You’re probably regretting signing him up as co-owner.”

James propped his elbows up in the door frame, noting the condescending tone of the patrolman’s voice. “No, not particularly.”

“What’s he even done since he’s been part of this place?” Ed turned and faced James.

“He helped build and refinish the stage, repaired the mm–m-marquee, and wrote the play we’re working on… so plenty.” James was having a hard time controlling the amount of snark in his voice.

“Well, all right.” Ed paused and tilted his head to peek past James and into his office.

Elise turned her head away, brushing her wavy locks across her face embarrassedly.

“Oh, I’m sorry;” Ed’s eyes narrowed, “was I interrupting something?”

James remained unmoved. “I’m having a short meeting with my actors.”

“Right,” the patrolman turned around. “Well, holler if you need anything.”

“Always.”

Ed stuck out a hand in a short wave as he walked out the front door.

James sighed heavily and released the doorframe. “Sorry about that.”

Elise was beginning to tremble again. “I need to go. I have to be back at the house before Gavin leaves for work.”

“All right. I’ll follow you.”

“No, you can’t!” Elise clutched his hand. “He’ll hurt us both!”

“I’ll follow far enough away to know where you live. And then I’ll meet you once he’s gone.”

“...And then...?”

He squeezed her hand. “I will walk you home.”

Home. That word was somewhere she’d never truly found. After her grandmother passed away, she’d never known anywhere that would be considered a home. But she could feel the spark of hope burning within her, and she was ready to trust James that he could give it to her.

Her lower lip trembling, she bolted from the chair and wrapped her arms around his chest.

James shut his eyes and curled one of his arms around her back to steady her as muffled cries were caught within his jacket.

--

The sun had nearly set when Elise peeked her head out of the door with wide eyes and a half-open mouth. She sunk with relief when James stood at her doorstep.

Gavin had either lied or had taken off work purely to keep an eye on Elise, as he never went to the warehouse that day. It was only in the late afternoon when two of his friends came around that he agreed to hit a nearby bar with them. Elise had been aching up until then, wondering if she would ever be able to see James again. But thankfully, not five minutes after she was left alone, she answered the door to find James’ all-day stake out had been successful.

“Got everything?” He asked, meeting her gaze.

She nodded, still gaping as she slowly stepped outside. The single canvas bag James had lent her was tossed over her shoulder. It was scarcely any bulkier than it had been empty.

Elise wavered in place, drifting into a trance-like state. Was she truly leaving this place? Would she really be leaving her life with Gavin behind? But what kind of life had it been, anyway? She had been forbidden to leave, forbidden to work, forbidden to have friends, forbidden from refusing to comply with every one of his wishes... He had given her a roof over her head and food to prepare, but he had also given her bruises, scars, and a cloud of unworthiness.

James held out his hand to coax her further.

Her eyes snapped onto his hand. James had given her job. He had given her food and coffee. But most importantly, he had given her confidence and respect, and now he was giving her a new place to live and a way out. And it was all because he understood where she was coming from, because he had lived in a cloud of unworthiness before. He was an example of someone who had broken free, even if the break had been painful.

She straightened her posture and walked towards him with firm steps.

He cradled her back with his arm and began to lead her away from the house.

They had scarcely stepped into the street when a voice barked behind them.

“What the hell is this??”

Elise froze and turned white. James’ brows lowered as he turned around.

A bearded man with a puffed-up chest was approaching the house from the other side of the street, with two other men following behind him carrying two kegs of beer. James didn’t have to ask Elise if this was the culprit of her wounds; it was apparent in his gait and tone alone.

“So, I was right–you little liar–I leave you for ten minutes to grab a few drinks for the evening and you go running off with another man!!”

James held back his arm to cover Elise and stood firmly in front of her as the three men continued sauntering towards them.

Gavin scowled. “So who are you supposed to be, big shot?”

“I’m her manager, and I’m taking her away from you.”

The two men behind him were starting to snicker from simply imagining their friend’s current expression.

“Oh, you think so?” Gavin puffed his chest even further as he stepped up to James and met him at eye level. “I’m the only manager this actress needs!”

“Yeah!” One of the men added, “And Gavin promised us she’d–hah–entertain us tonight!”

Elise grimaced and slipped further behind James, instinctively wrapping her arms around her chest.

“N-n–not anymore.”

Gavin’s eyes bugged. “’N-n-not anymore’?” A grin plastered across his face as he imitated James’ stammer. “Oh, for shame for me to think I’d have a chance against a m-m-man like y-y-you!”

James blinked, unmoved. If his past had done anything for him, it had calloused him from every attempt at poking fun at his speech impediment.

Gavin, however, was still running with the bait. He jabbed one of his buddies in the ribs and chortled, “She really thinks she’s running away with a m-m-manly m-m-m-man, doesn’t she!”

James turned back to Elise and started to lead her away while the three men shoved and joked with each other. They had almost reached the cross street before Gavin realized his audience was leaving.

“Hey!!” Gavin raced forward. “That tramp is mine!!”

His hands had stretched forward to grab her, but James only had to thrust his arm out and upward to deflect his attempt. It then returned to gently tuck Elise behind him.

Gavin staggered back, shocked as he tried to figure out how he had been disarmed so quickly.

“She will mm–never be yours if you call her that.” James spat.

“I can call her what I want–she’s mine!! If it weren’t for me, she’d be dead on the streets!!”

“So you’d rather her be dead in your house?” He yelled back heatedly, “She is not your punching bag!”

“Punching–oh that’s it–I’ll show you a punching bag!!”

Elise yelped as a fist was thrown at James’ face.

James backed out of the way as Gavin’s fist flew past him. He instead rammed his shoulder into Gavin’s chest and shoved him well out of range of Elise.

Gavin again staggered backward when James stopped moving, and with a roar, he tried another punch. He was again deflected and found himself on the ground moments later when James kicked one of his feet out from under him.

Gritting his teeth, he shot back up and began hopping from foot to foot like a boxer. “Try that again–I dare you!!”

James’ expression was as unchanged as his posture.

Gavin grew impatient and shouted as he threw another punch at James’ face, but once again, he was deflected and found himself rolling off James’ back and staggering into the street.

The man’s two friends could see he was getting nowhere fast, but one saw that Elise was no longer protected. With the other too busy egging Gavin on, the first decided to make a run for the young woman.

James’ attention snapped to Elise, giving just enough time for Gavin to roar and grab him from behind in a bear-hug.

“James!!” Elise squealed, flinging her bag at her attacker in an attempt to run away. Gavin’s friends, however, were faster and stronger than she was.

Struggling against Gavin’s hold, James gasped as he watched Elise get pulled to the ground. He tried wrenching his arms free and stomping backward on Gavin’s feet, but neither tactic worked against the much stronger man.

“Get her!! Take her down!!” Gavin’s voice rang in his ear.

James gnashed his teeth as panicked fury coursed through his veins. He shut his eyes and let out a loud cry.

At once, light burst from his back and flashed across the sky.

Gavin was thrown backward. 

His friends tumbled to their knees.

Elise uncurled from her ball, eyes wide.

Hands clenched at his sides, James stood alone as mighty wings of light as brilliant as the sun now spread from his back. Each wing reached taller than the rooftops and spread across the width of the street. All sound within the area had ceased. Any activity nearby halted. All eyes gazed upon the man with wings of light who stood before them.

James, still breathing hard, turned his head only slightly to each side to see what had happened.

Gavin, despite appearing startled, made a shaky attempt to rise.

James thrust out his hand, and a swatch of light glistened out of thin air inches before Gavin’s face.

He struck it with his forehead and fell backward in shock. “...What are you?” He hissed.

James, however, seemed just as surprised, but he soon redirected his gaze back to Elise. Slowly and softly, he stepped forward, knelt down beside her, and took her by the hand.

Elise stood, gaping at James’ angelic form. She also remained speechless as he gently placed his hand on her arm and tucked her behind his back within his wings.

His dark eyes narrowed on Gavin and his two friends. “Do not come looking for her,” he commanded. “I don’t want to see you anywhere near her. Do you understand?”

Eyes still on James’ wings, even Gavin’s friends couldn’t help but bob their heads in reverent fear. The three were too dumbfounded to speak or move further.

With that, the light shield faded, the wings folded neatly on his back, and James ushered Elise away.

The young woman took the smallest of glances backward to see the three men lying exactly where they had been left. She took one last look at the house she had been chained to the last four years, and then she returned her gaze to the man at her side.

“James?”

“Yes?” He glanced at her.

Her eyes strayed to his back. “...What did you do?”

James’ eyes idly returned to the street. “I’m–mm not sure; this has never happened before.”

She nodded as she, too, returned her attention to the road ahead. “Well… I’m glad it did.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. He then slid his hand across her back and rested on her shoulder.

She instinctively leaned into his side. Her wide eyes closed, and her gaping mouth turned into a relieved smile.

--

Elise gazed at the small electric lantern that hung over the door of James’ house. In the fading evening light, it glowed like a warm beacon, leading them down the road and up to the brown-bricked abode. Her eyes wandered to a mail receptacle with the numbers 103 plastered above it, and then fell to a large clay pot filled only with dirt resting on the ground.

“I’ve been too busy to plant something this year,” James shrugged almost embarrassedly. By now, his wings had faded completely, and he looked as he always did; a simple theater manager with shaggy black hair and reading glasses tucked into his jacket pocket. “There’s one on that side too. You’re welcome to plant whatever you’d like in either of them.”

She glanced where he had gestured, and saw the glow of another lantern peeking just around the corner, facing the alley that ran between James’ and his neighbor’s homes. She then heard a click, and turned back to find James opening the front door for her. She bowed her head and stepped inside.

James switched on an electric lamp just off to the right of the door as she let the canvas bag down from her shoulder. The living room was small, yet cozy, and the decor reminded her of distant memories of her grandmother’s home. White carpet spread from wall to wall with a fireplace across from her, a small sitting area to her left, and a sofa to her right. When he turned on the second lamp in the sitting area, the room was filled with a warm glow.

“The sofa’s right behind you,” James nodded as he ducked back up from lighting the lamp. "I’m–m–I apologize the apartment isn’t quite ready yet, but you’re free to use this space however you need." James commented as he set down his keys onto the counter that served as a divider between the living room and kitchen area.

"Oh, no... this is..." she looked at the plush sofa, already donned with a pink crocheted blanket and a small pillow. “...This is more than I could ask for.”

James shifted on his feet, leaning his hand on the counter as he watched Elise study her corner of the room. When she turned back to him, he smiled lightly.

“I can give you a quick tour,” he offered.

Still somewhat dazedly, Elise stepped toward him as he reached for the kitchen light on the ceiling. The colored glass of the fixture made the walls shimmer, and they distracted her as he began his tour. 

“Here’s the kitchen; I’ve got s-some–mm food in the pantry here and some in the ice box, which you’re welcome to.” He stepped through the room, “This hallway leads to the bathroom, this way, and my bedroom, that way. The apartment runs the length of the other side of the house,” he waved back to the kitchen. “It’s got just one room with a small kitchen and bathroom of its own. I’ve just got to find a bed for it and make sure the stove works... then it will be all ready for you.”

She nodded, still gazing at the walls of the kitchen.

His lips pulled to a half-smile. “A–a lot to take in?”

She turned to look at him, unable to speak. It was a lot to take in, but only because it was the most perfect home she had ever seen. It was clean, kept, and welcoming. It had locks on the doors and windows with sheer curtains–not thick ones to block the light during the day. It had electricity–undoubtedly all of the time–and the most beautiful glass fixture shedding colored light onto the kitchen walls.

She had possibly started to totter on her legs, but by the next moment, she had more or less fallen into James’ arms.

“Hey, it’s all right,” he coaxed gently.

Elise hadn’t even realized she was crying when James’ soothing words reached her ears.

“...I can’t believe you’re doing this for me…” she finally found a few words.

“Of course," James said, holding her in a supportive embrace. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Safe. That was the word. 

She buried her face deeper into James’ chest.

James rested his chin against her head, careful not to squeeze too tightly. Still, the feeling of her in his arms filled him with an unfamiliar warmth. It was relief, perhaps; or the comfort of knowing she would not be harmed or taken advantage of as long as he could help it. He smiled and closed his eyes.

She was safe.

A gentle rapping on the front door interrupted their moment. 

James felt Elise grow stiff in his arms, but with a gentle squeeze on her shoulders, he released her and walked to the front door. He opened it slowly to find Vance Edwards on the other side.

“Phoenix,” he breathed.

“James,” Vance lowered his hood. “Got a moment?”

He nodded and glanced back inside, finding Elise wandering into the front room out of curiosity. “I‘ll be just outside,” he reassured her.

She nodded simply.

James stepped outside and cracked the door behind him. “Sorry, she’s had a rough day. And–mm–honestly… I have too.”

“Yeah, about that…” The Phoenix smiled knowingly. “I can explain.” 

His brows furrowed. “How do you know wh–”

At once, both the color and the expression drained from James’ face. Then, his lips pursed as his eyes widened and lost all focus. He attempted various syllables, but couldn’t get a single word to escape his lips. All the while he moved jerkily, holding up his hands, only to drop them in disbelief.

“What you’re thinking,” the Phoenix still grinned, “yes.”

James shook his head. “N–no–how–”

“You’re the next Sentinel, James.”

He continued shaking his head. “I c–can’t… I g–gr–” he clapped a hand to his mouth and slid it off his chin. “I grew up with those stories–the Phoenix and the Sentinel–there–there’s no way…”

“The last Sentinel passed away two days ago,” the Phoenix continued. “Thankfully, she was surrounded by all those who knew and loved her; I was just there because I needed to be.” He set his hands on his hips as his long purple-gray cloak slid over his shoulders. “I was wondering who the power would awaken in next.”

James was looking at the ground, still wavering in disbelief. “How can it be me?”

“From what I’ve heard, you’ve been protecting people your whole life.”

He finally regained James’ eyes. The Sentinel didn’t reply, but a somber expression was spreading across his face.

Vance gestured to the door of James’ house. “And, she must really mean a lot to you if your power awakened to protect her.”

James bit his lip, his eyes again falling away. He nodded in response.

Vance smiled and adjusted the round-framed glasses on his nose.

“How will I know wh… what to do?” The Sentinel asked softly.

“This is going to sound dumb, but if it’s anything like my power, you’ll just know. It’s like… an instinct. You’ll know where to go, who to see; it’s… kind of strange really.” Vance smirked. “But you’ll get used to it.”

James’ eyes lost their focus. “I… have so m–m-much to do…”

“You’ll find time to do it.”

James finally managed a mild sneer. “Easy for you to say, Phoenix.”

“Sorry,” Vance chuckled. “What I mean is: you’ll be fine. Trust me.” Vance let his hands drop, folding them into his cloak. “But for now, I know it’s daunting; so if you need anything, I’ll be around.”

James nodded, beginning to regain his sturdier posture. “Th–than–th… I appreciate you coming to check on me.”

“You should get back to your guest,” Vance shooed him.

James nodded again, though when he turned, he found Elise’s eyes between the cracked door and the doorframe.

“What’s a Sentinel?” Her voice squeaked through.

The Sentinel and the Phoenix shared a glance before turning back to her.

“I’ll let James explain,” Vance smiled.

Before anyone else could say a word, a wisp of dark purple smoke whisked the Phoenix out of sight.

 

-----

Well this ended up being long... I had written almost the all of James and Elise's interactions throughout book 5 a few years ago, and these were the most "finished" sections - even though I overhauled the end of this one to include James becoming the Sentinel. In the original draft, the fight against Gavin is very anticlimactic. James just continues to dodge and wear the guy out until he flips him on his back, knocks the wind out of him, and then just walks off lol. While that was cool in its own way, this is way more epic :D

This happens a bit before "Get Out" while Ace is still gone but Ed is starting to come around more.

James is still getting used to Ace's nickname since he still called him Michael when they were last together.

I actually really like the little interaction between James and Vance. They're both still pretty new friends since James is still pretty new to the "group" but they end up really starting to bond because of their shared powers. I'm digging it.

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I knew that she'd be mine
I knew that she'd be mine

She took me in on a winter's night
The air was brittle and the moon was bright
My heart was heavy but her touch was light
Deep in the dance we wandered
Deep in my heart she fell...

  • Dan Fogelberg, Beggar's Game

Tier Dralcon, knowing a curse would soon take his life, turns to all manner of debauchery to drown his sorrows. In one of his lowest moments, he would have never expected Aurora Gallagher, the "Siren of Fortanya" and one of the most infamous residents of Fortanya's brothel, to take pity on him and show him a true, selfless love. And Aurora sure wasn't expecting to fall so deeply in love with him...

This song is the reason these two suddenly wanted to be paid attention to a couple months ago; it immediately spoke to these 2 and fits their story almost too well. I tried ...

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February 14, 2026
Was it This Lifetime?

Was it this lifetime? It feels as though I've loved you forever...

I looked at a few too many Western romance book covers and wanted to try something similar; a guy and a girl, holding each other closely, looking into each other's eyes with longing and wonder as the sky bursts alight in a sunset... and because Gemini is involved, there's smoke and embers. A beautiful Will Ackerman song (and title) did the rest.

I'll probably use some form of this for the actual cover for "Westfall"... you know whenever I get to that point 😁

Will Ackerman, Was it This Lifetime

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8 hours ago
P.Track.29

Nellie reluctantly put on the same tank top she’d been wearing the last couple of days before continuing her search for Amias. It was too late into the morning to stay in pajamas or else risk Mrs. Adams's disapproval. Then again, wearing the same shirt for three days was not much better.

She pulled open her door and straightened when finding Ava on the other side with her hand raised to knock. Nellie caught Ava’s eyes drop to the tank top before meeting hers again, a small, strained smile on her lips.

“Can we take a quick walk to the garden,” Ava asked.

Anger quickly replaced all Nellie’s hurt feelings from the previous night. She shut her door behind herself with a firm snap, stepping by Ava into the hall.

“I was about to go find Amias,” Nellie said coolly.

“Why don’t I walk with you until you find him?” She scurried to walk in step. “My mom is packing. I thought we should talk a bit while we had time.”

“Why? Are you leaving,” Nellie asked. She tossed her waves off her shoulder. “I heard you talking to your mom last night. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. If you want to leave, then go.”

Ava hurried to block her from continuing down the hall. She narrowed her eyes behind her glasses, crossing her arms.

“This is exactly what I was trying to tell her,” Ava said icily. “It’s not like you want to be friends, so why should I bother trying?”

“Me? You told her we weren’t friends!”

“Because you don’t want to be, Perenelle!” Ava threw up her hands. “I tried–we tried–including you in weekend plans all year, but you constantly ghosted us. We tried to get together during Spring Break, but again, you ghosted us.”

“Morgan—.”

“Yeah, I know, Morgan,” Ava growled. “That first week here, without Morgan, we hung out all the time and I thought ‘okay we’re getting somewhere’ and then along comes Morgan, and suddenly you’re off on these field trips—”

“That you said you didn’t want to do!”

“---I don’t, but you still go off, never mention much about them when you come back, and double down on using all your free time for Morgan.” Ava sighed heavily, her eyes shining. “My mom came to see me, and you just brushed off meeting her and run off with Morgan. Always babysitting your cousin. You even pushed off Lilac and her parents onto us instead of coming with us to dinner!”

“I thought you liked Lilac,” Nellie said lamely, feeling hot.

“That isn’t the point, Perenelle!” She stomped her foot in annoyance. “Mr. Javernick very clearly invited me here to be a familiar face for you, but you just keep running off on me! Secret meetings with this cousin. Secret meetings with that hot guy that turns out is actually a legit prince. You haven’t even sort of explained how any of that happened, do you realize that?”

There was a lot she avoided telling Ava. She was warned prior to coming to the compound not to let anyone know about Brue’s fate, and the result was that anything else she mentioned was disjointed. It also meant that she had been going off with Morgan a lot recently to talk over all his dragon notes.

There was a squirming, guilty feeling in Nellie’s gut as she watched Ava’s face fill with pink patches. The shine had started to collect in the corners of her eyes, and she was refusing to look directly at Nellie now. She felt a lump build in her own throat, and laughed shakily.

“I have been a rotten friend,” Nellie said. “Or, pre-friend, I guess. I just thought you’d get it with being a witch. The whole secrecy thing.”

“No, I get that part,” Ava said, her tone still cool. “Emma, Olivia, and Sophia are my best friends, but no way am I blabbing to them about Mammaw, or Mom, or myself. That’s been drilled in. And, no way I’d tell them about you and this whole thing with your uncle being leader of some secret, magical society thing.”

“Yeah… I know you wouldn’t… but there’s a lot more,” Nellie said.

“So I’ve gathered,” Ava said dryly. She shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me. That wasn’t the condition on being friends. You were just supposed to want to hang out with me, and not constantly blow me off.”

“Maybe I should tell you,” Nellie said, half to herself.

“Don’t,” Ava said firmly. “It’ll just make everything worse. It’ll make us feel obligated to be friends when, honestly, maybe we just aren’t.” She sheepishly looked at the polished floor. “I did hope… You seemed nice… We don’t get a lot of people moving to Lynchburg. I thought having some new blood would be a nice change for our circle.”

She had told Ava about her real relationship with Nathalie already, and that was as close as she felt she could get to the rest of it without saying. She didn’t understand the harm of Ava knowing her mother was turned into a dragon and that her father had ditched her to go find her, but she held her tongue still.

“I think… I do want to try to be friends,” Nellie said awkwardly. She pulled at a split end. “I’m not sure how, I guess. The whole thing with finding out my mom wasn’t my mom completely threw me out of whack more than I thought. Maybe I’m not even as over it as I thought I was….”

“It would be a lot,” Ava murmured. “And the stuff you can’t tell me… is about all of that, right?” Nellie nodded glumly. “Okay, so how about, if you’re going to blow me off or something because of that, you just say ‘Mom issues’ or something, so then I know it’s because you can’t say in front of me and not because you’re sick of hanging out?”

“‘Parent stuff’ might work better,” Nellie said, grinning. “There’s a bunch of stuff going on with my dad right now.”

“The one you thought was an estranged uncle your whole life?” Ava shuttered. “Yikes, Nellie, your life is complicated. No wonder you don’t want to talk about it.”

They giggled a bit and started walking down the hall. Ava insisted Nellie borrow one of her tank tops.They set off together after to find Amias with Ava not having met him yet and her mother still busy. She told Nellie she’d wanted to leave so badly that she begged her mom to book her a ticket home for next week.

“I should’ve confronted you sooner,” Ava moaned.

“It will be good to see the others,” Nellie said. “It isn’t fair to give up your whole summer for this.” She gazed at the grounds outside the windowed hallway. “I kind of want to go back too. I miss Ash.”

“You had that one uncle show up and threaten to take you home,” Ava said. “You could call him. I bet he’d do it.”

Uncle Winston certainly would be on the next plane if she said she wanted to go back to Nathalie that minute. He only hadn’t forced her to leave because he begrudgingly agreed that she needed to know how to handle herself when the Realm encroached into her life. It was a part of her, just like it was a part of Rhys, and Uncle Winston heavily hinted that how Rhys had been handled as a youth is what drove him off.

“You!”

Nellie and Ava jumped, spinning to see Arden storming towards them. His arms were stiff at his sides; his lanky frame hunched like his feet couldn’t be angry and keep the quick pace he wanted.

He stopped before then, narrowing his eyes. “You brought that man here!”

“Do you mean Amias,” Nellie asked carefully.

“She’s talking about staying longer,” Arden huffed, crossing his arms. “This was supposed to be a few nights, then gone, oh, but now she’s got a new buddy and all that is going out the window!”

“Are you… talking about your mom?”

“They feed off each other,” Arden went on. “They start on something as lame as buying groceries, and before you know it,” he leapt back, throwing his arms wide, “the world is burning! And they’re single handedly responsible for shutting down brothels! Too many broken hearts.” He gagged, and then fixed his gaze on Nellie again. “Make him leave. Or tell him to stop talking to her.”

“I can’t do that,” Nellie protested. “Amias is an adult. Go talk to Silas about them if it bothers you.”

Arden’s eyes widened as his jaw went slack. “Mrs. Adams… Mrs. Adams will save me.” He turned on his heel and bolted.

“You don’t think that brothel thing is true, do you,” Ava asked, wrinkling her nose.

“I never want to know which one said it. Come on, let’s head the way Arden did. Maybe he was with Brittney and Amias before coming to find us.”

There was no mystery where Amias and Brittney were after they passed through the formal dining room. Their roars of laughter rattled off the crystal chandelier from the small parlor on the other side. 

From what Nellie remembered, the small parlor was for Silas to host drinks with members of the Auctorita. She had stuck her head in before out of curiosity, but none of them ever had a reason to hang out in there with it being a bar counter, locked liquor cabinets, and a handful of plush, leather chairs.

Brittney was behind the bar while Amias sat at it, slapping it with his hand. His mouth was full of something, leaving him unable to laugh properly or interject on the story.

“--I says to her, no seriously now, I says, ‘I’ll run through the main square completely nude, completely, if I don’t get Herle’s hand up my—' Oh.” Brittney cleared her throat, jerking her head to get Amias to turn. “Exactly the child I don’t want standing there. Are you looking for Arden? He’s…” She looked around.

“Morgan sent me,” Nellie lied. She focused on Amias. “Somehing about his mom needing you back for something.”

“Apologies, Britt, I'm needed elsewhere,” Amias said. He finished his glass with a small shutter. “Ah, the bubbles. Everytime.”

“That’s why you wouldn’t catch me dead joining up,” Brittney said. “Keena too.” She sighed. “I better go find that boy of mine.”

Nellie forcefully smiled as Brittney sauntered by. She stood rooted to the spot fully aware that Ava was shooting her an uncomfortable look from the corner of her eye. She dropped the smile as Amias approached, crossing her arms.

“I thought you didn’t drink,” she said, eyeing the bar.

“Soda water and bitters, my lamb,” Amias assured. “With a hint of mint rather than lime, oddly enough. Britt has a knack for mixing non-alcoholic cocktails. But, you didn’t come here to babysit me, nor should you.” He raised a thin eyebrow. “Does Evora even want me?”

“Arden asked me to separate you and his mom,” Nellie said.

“You were looking for him before that,” Ava said. She smiled nervously as Amias looked to her. “Hi. I’m Ava. I go to school with Nellie.”

“And she’s a witch,” Nellie said.

“Or will be,” Ava said. She twisted her hands together. “I have to grow into it.”

“Is that how that works? Fascinating,” Amias said.

“Thanks… I’m going to see if my mom is done packing,” Ava said. “Let you talk. Catch you later?”

“Yeah,” Nellie said, grinning. “I’ll find you after. Swear it.”

They exchanged hopeful smiles as Ava left them to the small parlor.

“I take it your pre-teen girl speak has improved,” Amias said, smiling. He motioned at the armchairs. “Now,” he said as he settled in, “what are we to talk about?”

“Are Morgan’s parents in love?”

Amias sputtered, unable to form distinct sounds or words. He searched around for something to busy himself with but found nothing. He settled for smoothing out imaginary wrinkles on his knees.

“S-such an unusual question,” he said with a small laugh. “What on this earth would possess you to—?”

“Morgan said so.”

“Ah… Well, that’s troubling.” He took in a large breath, slowly releasing it and setting a steadier gaze on Nellie. “My lamb, there is nothing to be done for it.”

“It’s true,” Nellie whispered. She covered her mouth in horror. “But… but….”

“As I said, you cannot fix this,” Amias said sternly. “It is quite unfortunate that Master Morgan picked up on it, but it is what it is. The Regere and Evora might not have the love you’d hope to find in a married couple, particularly those with children, but they are fond of each other and have great respect for each other. There is no ill will.”

“But what about Morgan,” Nellie said.

“What of him?” Amias raised his eyebrows at her. “He is loved by his parents. Just as you are. How his parents feel for each other has no alteration on that.”

“He thinks it does.”

“He’s young,” Amias said sagely. “He’ll learn.” He smiled piteously at Nellie’s tense expression. “My dear, this is not the end of the world. Morgan’s parents have a strong marriage built through respect. There are many such marriages out there. And, there are those that have no respect. Regardless of love or not, if there is no respect for each other that is truly a terrible match. Quite the awful example to set as well.” He pat Nellie’s balled up hand. “Evora regrets not writing back to you, my lamb. Perhaps you knowing how their marriage works will make more sense of why she ignored your note asking after the Commander. She will never go behind the Regere’s back.”

It took a few minutes for Nellie to remember what Amias was talking about. She had slipped her note to Evora asking about Rhys prior to her field trip to Michigan. Being attacked by the Piasa Bird, having relatives show up for visits, almost falling out with Ava, being unable to speak to Ira or Penny, all that had completely driven it from her mind.

“That’s a lot for a week and a half….”

“What was that, my lamb?”

“Nothing… Actually, I do have something else I want to ask about.”

“I hesitate to encourage you…”

“That story I walked in on,” Nellie said, frowning, “that Herle was my father, wasn’t it?”

Amias cleared his throat. His cheeks had a slight pink tint. “Yes… well… Britt knew your father in his youth. In her youth.” He scratched at his nose just to have something to do with his hands. “Mrs. Faust is quite a flirt, I’m sure you’ve gathered by now. She found it comical to tease the Commander.” He laughed, quickly turning it into a throat clearing as Nelle narrowed her eyes at him. “Sorry, my dear. Completely unrelated thought just popped into my head.”

“I’m not going to find out Arden is my half-brother or something, right?”

“Good gracious, no,” Amias said, horrified. He laughed again, this time not trying to hide it. “Oh, no, no, no, Nellie. Your father was a right stick in the mud. I was terribly shocked when Brue and he started courting. Terribly! Ah, but, he did smile around her, so that only made sense.”

An odd sense of pride swelled in her chest. Her father was devoted to her mother long before her dragoning. It somehow helped cement the idea that they both loved her, despite Rhys vanishing from her life.

The pride was replaced with pity as she remembered she had been asking Amias about Morgan’s parents moments earlier, getting confirmation that Morgan was not being overly dramatic. It really would feel awful to know your parents didn’t have true feelings for each other, no matter how Amias tried to sugarcoat it.

“I may regret this… but anything else, my lamb? I don’t mind a chat, of course, but I should meet with Silas.” He rolled his eyes. “Auctorita business. Dreadfully boring matters.”

Nellie twisted her hands in her lap. She wanted to ask if she should reach out to Rhys. Originally, she wanted to ask him if there was a way for her to recognize Brue, or if there was a way to change her back, but Morgan’s giddiness over her parents returning and moving her to Lisbon caused her pause. She already moved once, and that had been bad enough. Moving again, to a different country–and with strangers–was too much to grasp.

“Something the matter, Nellie?”

“No,” Nellie said. “Just letting everything sink in.” She rocked up to her feet. “I’m going to go find Ava. When do you plan on leaving? Just in case Arden finds me.”

“Perhaps tomorrow morning. Or the afternoon. It’ll depend on what Silas and I cover.” He puffed himself up. “As founding members of the Auctorita, we will need to be on duty during this important transition.”

She wandered about, half looking for Ava and half too lost in thought to know which way she was going. Amias wouldn’t understand, not with him being best friends with Brue. Nellie wanted to find her. She wanted to meet Rhys. But, she wanted that to be the end of it. She didn’t think she could handle any more huge changes in her life at the moment. She was still navigating the move from Florida to Tennessee.

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

Kind of a clean up chapter. Partial courtesy to re-reading from when Nellie got to the compound to now. And since this is a short chapter tying up loose ends, I'm going to ramble about the stuff I wanted to put in but couldn't, and some backgrounds for these older people.

First being, Brecken and Evora's "love" story. With this series I want multiple protags, but I haven't thought of if I'm doing any outside of Ira, Penny, and Nellie. But, the Regere (Brecken) could be an insteresting enough one. But, no real plan yet. So, spoilers-not really, Brecken was young ~19 when the Auctorita formed. Young, cocky, goodlooking, and powerful, he was a flirt with nearly all the founding female members. To his, and others' surprise, his flirting with a significantly older woman turned more serious, and he ended up falling in love. She also ended up falling in love with him. But, as the months turned to years, the position of the Auctorita started turning from ragtags to something serious, and the founding members had their roles expanded out into the rest of the world/Realm. For this woman, hers was a more religous role (Order of Ferblanc connection) and there had to be a choice: Brecken or God. And for Brecken, with everyone now looking at him as this leader--similar to King Clayborne--there were swirlings about his family life, the future, ect. So, the woman choose God and chasity, being too old to safely have children anyway, and Brecken and Evora settled into a life together. She'd been one of his closest advisors, and the Auctorita's chief lawyer, and they both did like each other quite a lot. Evora had at one time been completely smitten with him and the thought of her and him had crossed Brecken's mind before. There is no saying if they're mutual fondness and respect grew into anything more over the decade+ of marriage. The founding members just strongly remember how he was with the other woman, and how they all knew it would end in tragedy.

So, of course, Amias couldn't say all that to his 12yo goddaughter he doesn't know very well, lol. He also couldn't tell her that he had an example of a marriage with love but no respect in Brittney. Brittney was indeed a horrible flirt (and a bit slutty, honestly) but she ended up falling hard for a Mr. Faust (I haven't given him a first name). Of course, if you're environment is dive bars, night clubs, and thieves, you're not going to find anyone honorable. So, Mr. Faust is a rotten thief, or was he is mostly reformed, and an alcholic (why Brittney is good at mixing non-alcholoic drinks/Arden's whispered comments at the wine lunch that shut up her teasing were related to this). The two had a whirlwind courting, a head over heels marriage, and then along came Arden. Well, Brittney being the woman, had to give up all vices. And she was able to. Mr. Faust didn't, and didn't try. Brittney keeps trying to help him and "save him" for their love, marriage, and Arden, but him not trying, or not able to, or whatever the case has greatly erroded all her respect for him. And he also doesn't respect her because she's "not fun" anymore. Of course, growing up with all this, Arden was starting to act out the older he got until he was suspended from school. Brittney begged Silas to take him in despite his age in the hopes that starting his training early would give him structure. She's even willing to have him join the Auctorita when he's of age.

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March 19, 2026
P.Track.28

The sun was starting to set and Amias still had not turned up. Nellie sat out on the patio to enjoy the pink and gold sky while she waited, her feet propped up on a poofy ottoman. The lightning bugs were starting to twinkle on the woodline in the distance.

The sliding door opened some feet behind her.

“--be glad to get home,” Ava said. “It’s fun enough here, but I miss my friends.”

“What about that one girl,” her mom asked. “Isn’t she in your school?”

“Yeah… but it’s not the same,” Ava muttered. “I didn’t even bother inviting her to come with us tonight.”

Nellie slumped lower in her chair and slowly brought her legs to her chest, curling into a time ball to be as small as possible. It worked, and the Wagners passed without noticing her.

She sat with the sky darkening to red and the lightning bugs coming out in full force, her head full of a dull buzzing. It would make perfect sense for Ava to miss Emma, Olivia, and Sophia. They’d all known each other since elementary school. There was still something about what Ava said, about her tone, that was causing Nellie’s chest to tighten and the corners of her eyes to prickle.

“Good evening, my lamb. Were you waiting out for me?”

Amias still looked like a younger, tanner Victor Price. He held the handle of a sleek roller back in one hand, the other holding the strap of an overstuffed leather satchel across his body.

Nellie launched herself off the chair, and threw her arms around his middle, nearly knocking him back down the steps. She gave a sob as he patted her auburn waves.

“I wasn’t aware we crossed into this familiarity, my dear, but I’m glad of it,” Amias teased. He put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “There, there. Come, let’s go inside. The nastier nature wakes up when the sun goes down.”

They settled in the small den where the kids typically gathered to read their letters. It was dark and quiet, out of the way of the more common gathering areas like the large parlor, living room, and dining room.

Amias left briefly to make a cup of tea; Nellie declining his offer to make her a cup too with the summer heat seeping in through the slightly opened window. He propped his foot on his knee, gave his cup a smooth blow, and sipped.

“Ah, better,” he sighed. “Now then, my dear, you looked quite distressed. Anything your godfather can help with?”

“Not unless you speak teenaged girl better than I do,” Nellie muttered.

“Alas, not one of my many talents.” He smiled sympathetically. “Brue was a misfit magnet. I’m sure she went to her mother with such hardships as you have.”

“So… does that make you a misfit,” Nellie asked, a small smirk forming on her lips.

“Bite your tongue,” Amias said, hiding his own smirk behind his tea cup.

They spent the next fifteen minutes talking about little things. Amias and Nathalie apparently kept in touch with the occasion text or email, and she told him how she was unable to visit. He offered to substitute for her. He hadn’t seen much of the Regere since he returned from dropping off Morgan, typically accompanying Morgan’s mother Evora who was now very busy meeting various heads of state.

Nellie mentioned that Ira had come back to have similar meetings with chapters of the Order of Ferblanc and the Keepers. She did not mention the Piasa Bird, but she caught Amias eyeing the scar from her recently removed stitches once or twice.

“It sounds an awful lot like there really will be a new country,” Nellie said. “That’s so weird.”

“How so?”

“I guess I just think of the countries as set in stone,” she said. “But they aren’t. Even now, you get countries that fall and rise and everything in between. It’s just… weird.”

“It isn’t as common as it was, but, yes, they do change,” Amias said. He frowned into his empty cup and set it aside. “It’ll be good for the Auctorita to have true stability. We’ve had deals fail before because we were seen as illegitimate having no real boundaries. And, perhaps, I’ll have a title that means something instead of just ‘that dashing man following Evora at times’. My resume looks like it has a fifteen year gap in it.”

“Oi, Nellie, are you—Oh?” Arch appeared in the doorway. He straightened himself with a curious eye on Amias. “Sorry. Didn’t know Nellie had any visitors.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Mrs. Adams called us for supper five minutes ago. She’ll be cross if you’re any later.”

Nellie jumped to her feet. “Arch, this is my godfather Amias. Arch is a mage.”

“I recognized one of my own,” Aimas said with a nod.

“Amias…? Hang on, you aren’t Amias Baig, are you,” Arch asked. His mouth slowly dropped open on Amias’s–not at all bashful–nod. “You–you’re a founding member of the Auctorita!”

“You are?”

“I am,” Amias said smugly.

“Oh, sir, allow me to shake your hand,” Arch said, hurrying over and enthusiastically yanking Amias’s hand up and down. “As a mage, sir, it’s an honor. You’ve taught the Regere himself a thing or two!”

“You did?”

“I did, yes,” Amias said, enjoying the attention. He freed himself from Arch. “Care to show us to the dining room? I haven’t graced these halls in an age. I don’t remember where it is.”

Arch giddily led the way from the den. Nellie would not have been terribly shocked if he started skipping. She slowed her pace a bit to force Amias to do the same, putting a few extra feet between them and their escort.

“I thought the Regere was an all powerful mage,” Nellie asked in a low voice. “The magic I sense off him is…” She didn’t want to use ‘weird’ anymore, and crazy seemed just as bad.

“Quite, but he’s young,” Amias said. He gave a snort, shaking his head. “Probably stupid we appointed him the leader when the Auctorita formed, as young as he was, but it has all turned out for the best. Brue was a big part of that. She grounded him. Played the big sister role beautifully.” He pat her shoulder. “Now, my lamb, allow me to enjoy all this extra attention a moment.” He sped up to walk in step with Arch. “Have you heard about the disastrous time the Regere and I had outside Kabul?”

Amias was exuberantly greeted by Silas, and introduced to Brittney. The three of them seemed to grow louder and louder, and crowded the head of the table swapping stories. The kids were almost ignored; Mrs. Adams still kept a sharp eye on them from the end of the table to stop them from horsing around too much or using poor etiquette.

Morgan kicked her under the table. “You could have told me you were waiting for Amias,” he sulked. “We would’ve had a few moments together to speak of things.”

“Things urgent enough for you to assault me,” Nellie grumbled. She speared a roasted potato.

“He’s a link to my father, and do you remember what I was asking my father about on your behalf,” Morgan asked. His eyes darted to Fin, Itzel, Brody, and Arden, double checking that they were consumed with whatever it was they were talking about. “He’s supposed to tell us where your father is.”

“I don’t think that’s secret enough for you to be kicking me,” Nellie said.

Morgan huffed, and tore a large chuck of meat off his chicken thigh with his teeth.

“Master Morgan,” Mrs. Adams called down, “manners!”

Amias was having too much fun with Silas and Brittney, so Nellie, Morgan, and the other children were dismissed from the table by Mrs. Adams without much acknowledgement from the adults. Morgan huffed and fumed the entire way up to his room. Nellie was glad to be rid of him.

Nellie detangled her auburn waves in front of her vanity mirror, not really seeing herself. She hadn’t considered that Amias would be coming with news of Rhys. She hadn’t given her father much thought since Morgan said he’d ask for her, partly assuming–or hoping–he was ignored.

There was also the sick feeling she got when she remembered what she overheard Ava saying that evening. Her mind leapt back to when Ira picked her up so many months ago, asked her if the girls were friends, and Nellie’s instinct said they were not. It was possible that instinct was right all along.

Ira said people like them could make friends, but said he hadn’t. He tried to brush it off as the social differences between boys and girls–and it turned out he was a prince so that surely had some impact too–but Nellie couldn’t stop thinking he could’ve been lying to give her hope. False hope, like about finding Brue.

Penny still believed she would find Keena Fox despite having no memories of her.

Nellie scribbled on the notepad next to her bed: Text Penny. Ask if people like us make friends. Then, she crawled under the covers on her sleigh style bed, and passed out.

---

Amias was in the den the next morning wearing a velveteen dressing gown over his satin green pajama set. He had a newspaper resting against his knee and a small cup of coffee in his hand halfway to his lips.

“Ah, good morning,” he greeted. “Sleep all right? I was up half the night myself due to nature sounds.” He shuddered. “Crickets and coyotes and that blasted big foot.”

“Did you only come here because I had no visitors, or did the Regere send you with a message,” Nellie asked plainly.

He glanced into his cup, took a drink, and set it aside with his brows furrowed. He folded up his newspaper and set it across his lap like a paper blanket.

“Just jumping right into it with both feet this morning, are we? Two things can be true, Perenelle. Yes, I wanted to see you and Nathalie and I thought I should visit since she could not.” He heaved a breath. “And, yes, the Regere gave me a message to take along.”

“Which came first,” Nellie asked. “The message or you planning to visit?”

“Does that matter?” He groaned as she folded her arms. “Of course it does. You are so very like your father at times. It’s astounding. My visit came first, my lamb, since you insist on knowing. I was packing my socks, specifically, when Evora came to ask me to dinner. She asked why, I said I was going to visit you and Master Morgan, she said ‘oh perfect timing’ and had me go speak to the Regere to see if he even wanted me to pass on the message.”

“Which he did.”

“Yes; which he did,” Amias said. He smiled weakly. “Does that satisfy you?”

It made her feel a lot better knowing she had been Amias’s focus, not being ordered to visit to pass on some message. She gave a small nod and took the chair next to his.

“You’re allowed to come and go as you want then,” Nellie asked.

“I beg your pardon,” Amias said. “Were you under the assumption I needed permission from the Regere for every little thing in my life?” Nellie shrugged. “He’s the leader of the Auctorita, but he doesn’t control our lives. It is as if… What’s an analogy an American pre-teen would understand? I’m drawing a blank.”

“But he is your boss, isn’t he,” Nellie asked. Amias looked horrified at the notion but didn’t correct her. “Can’t he fire you if you don’t obey him? Or worse, with him being an all powerful mage?”

“All powerful is a stretch….”

“Not much of one.”

Nellie jumped at the sudden, cool voice and quickly found Morgan hovering in the doorway with a disgruntled expression on his face. His dark hair was still unkempt from sleep, and he still wore his pajamas and slippers. He held a napkin with both hands that was piled with buttered toast.

“I was waiting for you in the dining hall,” Morgan said. “Thought we’d eat and then go speak to Amias. Together.”

“I wasn’t hungry,” Nellie said, quickly adding, “then,” as her stomach gave a rumble.

Morgan’s scowl deepened.

“Now, now, Master Morgan, nothing has been said,” Amias said, a hint of pleading in his tone. “Come. Sit. You can have my seat if you wish. I plan on dropping off my cup once I’ve delivered the message anyhow.”

A rush of anger flared in Nellie’s chest as Morgan went and settled himself into Amias’s chair. He still looked disgruntled at the very idea that they would speak without him but there was now a smugness in his expression.

“What if I don’t want Morgan to hear the message,” Nellie asked, narrowing her eyes at her cousin.

Amias paled. His eyes darted from Nellie to Morgan–now glaring back at her–and back. He silently pleaded not to be put in that situation, but Nellie stubbornly folded her arms and crossed her legs.

“Master Morgan,” Amias said, his voice higher, “would you mind terribly to—?”

Morgan leapt up. He threw down the toast on the small table between the chair and stormed from the den.

Amias sank back into the empty chair while Nellie salvaged the toast. She was starting to get very hungry.

“Why must you antagonize him,” Amias muttered.

“Why must you cater to him,” Nellie asked. “He’s acting like a spoiled brat.”

“He is.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for it today,” Nellie said. She took a large bite of her toast, disappointed that it was now cold so more like wet, buttered cardboard. “I’ll tell him the message later. So… what is it?”

“China,” Amias said plainly. “The Regere last had eyes on the Commander in China.”

“China,” Nellie said slowly. “That’s… broad. He doesn’t have a city or something to go off?”

“If he did, he did not mention them,” Amias said. “All he said was to tell you that Rhys was in China. I must say, I was rather shocked by that. Brue wouldn’t have been caught dead in China as a human.” He shivered. “Dreadful place. I’ve seen what they do to street food there.”

She doubted Rhys would have been loitering around the city streets if he really was in China. The countryside, particularly the mountains, did look mystical in pictures she’d seen. She imagined it would be a good place for a dragon to live. 

How Rhys, a blond European, was supposed to get to those mountains was an entirely different question. From what little Nellie knew about the country, it did not exactly like outsiders wandering around without escort and she highly doubted he would have let a government official know why he was really there.

“Does the Auctorita work in China,” Nellie asked.

“My lamb, the Auctorita is truly global,” Amias said proudly. “We have footholds everywhere. Why, I believe we even send a researcher or two to Antarctica. For what end, I have no idea.”

“Does Rhys have any sway with members,” Nellie asked. “If he asked them to smuggle him into the country and out of the cities, would they?”

“Very likely, though I imagine that would put them at risk, and I’m unsure he would do that to lowly footsoldiers having once been one himself.”

She wondered if Amias meant they would be in trouble with the Regere or the Chinese government, but did not ask which. Hearing how far her uncle’s reach went was enough to cause the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. It was no wonder why Nathalie and Uncle Winston were so wary of him. That type of power and control was too much for anyone.

“Thanks, Amias,” Nellie said, rocking up to her feet. “I’m going to go tell Morgan.”

“Rather fast, isn’t it?”

She shrugged and left Amias to his newspaper. She didn’t have to go far to find Morgan. He was waiting around the next turn in the hall with his hazel eyes narrowed at her.

“You think I'm a spoilt brat,” he accused.

“You are, and you relish in it,” Nellie pressed. She crossed her arms. “Did you eavesdrop on the whole conversation?”

“Only long enough to hear you and that pompous fool laughing over what you really think of me.”

Nellie eyed him, frowning. There was an extra shine to his eyes. Morgan really did have hurt feelings over what he heard.

“We didn’t laugh a single time that conversation, for your information,” Nellie said. She sighed. “Rhys is supposedly in China. So, I guess cross-referencing anything with him is out of the question.” She smiled weakly. “End of the road, cous. Thanks for all the help. Let’s just enjoy the rest of summer break. Want to have a go at target practice? Callix said he’d teach—.”

“You quit too easy,” Morgan interrupted. He started to pace the hall. “China…. The Orient has a wealth of dragon lore, of course.”

“Are you… supposed to call it that?”

“I have a handful in my notes already,” Morgan went on, ignoring her. “We can narrow his location. Get a message to him.”

Her stomach lurched at the plausibility of Morgan’s plan. Amias already said the Auctorita had people all over the world. If Morgan asked his parents to pass a message to Rhys, there was no reason why they wouldn’t try.

Nellie stopped at her room first to grab the box of Rhys’s letters before joining Morgan in his room. They had correctly assumed that no one would go knocking on Morgan’s door, so now always looked over their dragon related items in his room rather than in Nellie’s or the library.

She scanned through the letters, reading only random phrases, while Morgan searched their file case and consulted the globe. She had thought about Rhys returning more often than naught since she was told about him. She was interested to meet–or get reacquainted–with the man that wrote so diligently to his big sister, but Morgan’s point about how much her life would change hung over her.

“These are the most prominent ones I have,” Morgan said, laying out the notes all with an artistic rendering. “Futs-long; says it dwells underground so an exact location is harder to find.” He slid the notes with a deep, orange dragon with a snake-like body to the side. “Shenlong; a sky dweller, so also not a clear location. But, my bet is the mountains where not many humans are.” He slid the notes with a deep, blue dragon also with a snake-like body to the side.

“These seem too specific,” Nellie said.

“Dragons are heavily featured in Chinese mythology,” Morgan said. “They have dragon gods for almost everything. Futs-long supposedly makes earthquakes. Shenlong makes rain.”

“Yeah… way too specific,” Nellie said. She scanned through the notes on Shenlong. “This sounds more like Zeus than a dragon story. …Zeus isn’t real, right?”

Morgan rolled his eyes and started flipping through his notes. “With migration, we should include the zmey gorynich out of Russia. Or the yamata no orochi of Japan. Ryujin seems more in the thought of these dragon gods.” He passed over the notes. “Kirin are generic. We can include them. Oh, and phaya naga. I’d say that’s an excellent candidate with the India connection and the,” he gestured to himself and Nellie, “the India connection.”

“Oh. Right.” Nellie looked at her tanned arm. “I keep forgetting that.”

“I don’t give it any thought either,” Morgan said, shrugging. “Our grandfather dislikes me and my father, and our white, American grandmother raised him as American as she could despite living in London.” He gave his pulled notes a satisfied nod. “This is a starting point.”

The flaming river dragon glared out from the top of the pile. Rhys had been looking for Brue for a decade. He must’ve thought of phaya nagas before now. Perhaps he looked in the Indian rivers, and could only now get into China. Or, Morgan’s theory that human genetics played a role was complete bunk.

“I still have no way of knowing Brue when we find her,” Nellie said, pushing the notes aside. She muttered, “If we find her.”

“You've been so negative lately,” Morgan said. “Summer camp not as rosy as you thought?”

She shot him a glower, but stayed quiet. Morgan did not need to know anything about her worries regarding Ava or making friends generally. He either wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t care, or encourage her to ignore everyone except him.

“What are we supposed to do now,” Nellie asked, steering the conversation back. “I don’t know if I want to send a message to Rhys. I don’t know what to say.”

“Ask him to come back,” Morgan said as if it was obvious.

“Ask him to stop looking?”

“No. Just to come back.”

She sighed and flopped back on Morgan’s bed. “He’s been looking for a decade. He’s not just going to drop everything and come running back because I ask.”

Morgan grabbed one of his pillows and curled around it. He stared but his eyes were distant as if looking at something far away and not at Nellie.

“I’ve been told, countless times now, that your father loved you and only left because searching for your mother was dangerous,” Morgan murmured, half into the pillow. His grip tightened. “You have nothing else to contradict that. You should hold onto it.”

“Nothing to… He did leave and never reach out,” Nellie said. “That’s a big contradiction.”

His eyes fixed on her. “My parents aren’t in love. I was born to fill a role, not because of love. Or to love.” He glared. “Hold onto these stories that your father loved you for as long as you can, Nellie, because the alternative does not feel good.” He flopped over and turned his back to her. “Think I’ll catch a nap before afternoon sparring.”

It was awkward sitting there while Morgan pretended to sleep. Nellie headed out with the box of her father’s letters in her hands. She stood with her back pressed on Morgan’s door, feeling the weight of Rhys’s words to Nathalie in her hand a moment before setting off to find her godfather.

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

This took so long to type that I forgot things like Arch being the escort into the dining room and what Amias was wearing in the morning. But, you get a bunch of dragins mentioned in this. Most are from my pretty dragon book, so I'll put up pictures in the chat. I wanted to describe them more since they're cool looking, but they are just looking at random internet drawings and not facing the real thing. Some dragons, like Futs-long, Shenlong, Jormungandr, Quetzelcoatl, ect. are very, very specific where it's a character and not just a dragon, so those would not be candidates (as Nellie rightly assumes). That does actually narrow out just about every Chinese dragon. They question of if those specific dragons are/were real or pure myth is a completely separate matter.

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March 15, 2026
Happy Birthday, Abilene!
Taken from an email from Abilene historian Jay Moore

Jay Moore is a well-known historian 'round these parts, and we even had him kick off the State of the City with a brief history lesson. He then sent this in an email to an undisclosed list of folks, and my coworker forwarded on to me. I love me some Abilene history, so I'll share it here if you are interested too :)

I actually always wondered why Abilene didn't have the traditional small-town-Texas "courthouse square" and now I know why!

----

Happy Birthday to The Future Great!

On Sunday, March 15, our ol’ prairie town will turn 145 years old. Many cities and towns slowly evolve into being, but we can claim an exact day, even an exact hour, to mark our beginning: the day we were auctioned into existence at 10 A.M. on a Tuesday. 

Despite the fact that several hundred people were already milling about in northern Taylor County in the weeks prior to March 15, 1881, we consider that day as our delivery date since it was on that chilly morning that the Texas & Pacific Railway staged an auction to sell lots in the new town they marketed as “The Future Great City of West Texas.” And when auctioneer J. A. Hossack hammered the first lots sold, Abilene was born. 

So that he could be seen and heard by a crowd estimated from one to two thousand, Mr. Hossack climbed up onto some stacked railroad ties set up at Chestnut and S. 1st, behind him was a plat of the new town. He opened the bidding and John Berry of Belle Plain snatched up the first lot. He actually bought two adjoining lots at the northwest corner of N. 2nd and Pine. Those two 25-foot-wide lots have remained linked ever since. Today, they are the setting for Grain Theory. 

Prior to the lot sale, folks were camped out in tents or sleeping under their wagons while they waited on the auction date. There was a tent hotel set up, and at least one pop-up saloon was in operation. Twelve days before the auction, a baby was born here to A.M. and Fanny Barnett; the proud parents named their infant daughter, Abilene. A church was even organized ahead of the auction when William Minter gathered together a passel of Presbyterians for a worship service on February 27 at N. 1st and Pine. We already had a graveyard too; necessary because a man named John Snoddy was killed here a month before the auction. (A jealous husband was a person of interest in the case.)

A Kentuckian named Josiah Stoddard Johnston was tasked with laying out the town and marketing the auction. He saw to it that surveyors measured lots and staked out the streets, and he decided there would not be a town square, rather two parallel streets fronting either side of the railroad tracks. He did plan for a courthouse square despite the fact that Buffalo Gap was the county seat. (Don’t bring that up while eating at Perini’s.)

Streets north or south of North and South 1st were numbered while the intersecting streets were given names of trees, with several being trees you won’t find in these parts, such as Cherry, Butternut, Beech and Hickory. (I’m perplexed as to why he left out Hackberry. We got plenty of those allergen producers.) A couple of the tree streets, namely Sassafras and Apple, never came to be and, in time, Magnolia was renamed N. Treadaway. Also, Orange is not the Florida variety, rather, the Osage Orange, which, I believe, is the same tree as a Bois D’Arc. (And, if you can’t place Bois D’Arc, it is two blocks east of N. Treadaway.)  Johnston also decided that he would offset the north and south tree streets by a half block, so they don’t line up, and each arboreal road stops at N. 1st or S. 1st.

Well before sunrise on March 15th, a T&P engine pulling five passenger cars arrived here from Fort Worth. They were filled with speculators who rode out for our birth and to possibly invest in some Abilene real estate. But many of the buyers present that day were the Buffalo Gap crowd who understood that the new town of Abilene was, in fact, destined to be The Future Great City of West Texas.

So, let your hair down and treat yourself to a birthday cupcake on Sunday. We’re only 145 once. 

- Jay

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