The Gift

Nellie found herself crouched on the ground, covering her head with her arms. Her wooden sword sat in the mud next to her. The trees above her lurched, showering her with pine needles. She slowly uncovered her head, raising it to look up.

A pair of beady red eyes were fixed upon her. The snallygaster was the size of a ram with metallic green and brown scales that gave way to sharp feathers on the joints. It had a long, sharp beak and Nellie could see it lined with small razor-like teeth as it made a low hissing sound.

She flinched as Calix jumped over her. He shot at the snallygaster and slowly started moving away from Nellie, releasing a steady stream of arrows to keep the animal’s attention.

“Get it to the clearing,” Arch yelled from somewhere to Nellie’s left. She was pulled up. Arch brushed her off with his free hand, the other clutching a walking stick. “Did it get you?”

“N-no.”

“Then, take up your sword and get to the clearing,” Arch commanded. “Your job is to cover Calix, not the other way round.”

She scrambled to get her wooden sword as guilt squirmed in her stomach. She was dirty, but Calix and Arch had torn clothes, and she thought she saw a cut on Arch’s arm when he was dusting her off. She tore after him, able to catch up and slip by him being smaller and able to bypass the trees and branches easier.

She broke into the clearing.

“Nellie, down!”

She threw herself backwards as the snallygaster’s front talon sliced at her. The back followed, hooking her shoulder. She cried out, collapsing in the mud.

Calix was over her in an instant, shooting at the snallygaster as it circled above on large, leathery wings. He dove out of the way as it swooped.

“Nellie,” Calix yelled, now out of sight, “move!”

She winced as she scrambled away and up, grabbing her wooden sword on her way to her feet. She headed for the treeline with her swordless hand on her shoulder. Blood oozed over her fingers, but it was not an alarming amount.

“Nellie, down,” Calix called out.

She dropped and felt the slipstream from the snallygaster tear over her body as it passed.

“Catch me up,” Arch said, arriving.

“Snallygaster wants Nellie,” Calix said. “Catch her, and now ignore me.”

“Got it,” Arch said. “Both of you get to the trees.”

She was unceremoniously picked up and slung over Calix’s shoulder like a sack of flour. She jostled uncomfortably on his hard shoulder as he sprinted for the trees, throwing her onto his lap as he did a baseball slide into the brush to avoid the snallygaster’s talons, the monster whistling like a freight train in fury and frustration.

Nellie unwound herself from Calix’s long limbs and the underbrush, rolling over and crouching to see where Arch and the snallygaster were. She took a sharp breath as Calix touched her shoulder.

“Doesn’t look bad,” he murmured. “Need cleaning and plasters.”

Arch dashed into the middle of the clearing. He swung his stick at the snallygaster; the creature slamming into a mostly invisible shield as it tried swooping at him. He grunted and nearly lost his footing with the force of the animal on the shield, visibly panting when it landed and tried circling behind him.

“There you are,” Arch said, grinning maniacly. He slammed his stick down and the ground lurched.

Deep cracks formed from where he hit the ground; the dirt crumbling as the rocks wedged out. The rocks clustered together, building until they were a crude, wide human shape half a head shorter than Arch. The gollum launched into an attack against the snallygaster.

The gollum pounded the snallygaster with one of its club-like arms, knocking the animal into the ground with an angry, pained hiss. The gollum’s arm broke off and covered the creature, further angering it and causing it to thrash wildly to break free.

The snallygaster had a broken wing and a limp, but it clawed and snapped at the gollum unimpeded. It broke the gollum’s left leg off, clawing its way up and over the body to snap at the unshaped head.

“Arch,” Calix yelled, breaking from the underbrush.

Nellie jumped up, teetering. Arch was on his knees, breathing heavily with his shaking arms grasping his stick for support. She looked around for something to throw or for somewhere they could hide to recover. She gripped her wooden sword with both hands and dashed after Calix.

The snallygaster whipped its head towards her as she took position in front of Calix while he helped Arch up.

“That’s enough.”

A cage of light slammed down on the snallygaster, crumbling what was left of Arch’s gollum. The cage grew smaller and tighter until the snallygaster was pinned to the ground.

The Regere strode from the treeline, lazily waving an ornate walking stick that glowed from every crack. His pale blue eyes looked at the kids.

“Big and flashy is fine if you have the magic reserves to back it up,” the Regere said coolly. He looked more pointedly at Nellie. “Running around in a panic helps no one. Back to the car. All of you.”

Arch was too tall for Nellie to help Calix walk him from the woods. She dragged her feet behind them, feeling useless and trying hard to ignore her throbbing, bleeding shoulder.

It felt like hours they waited for the Regere and the Knights to straighten out restraining the snallygaster, but the dashboard clock let it be known it was only twenty minutes. After which, the Regere gave a dismissive nod to the pair of Knights and climbed into the car.

The drive back was short and silent.

“Check in with your guardians,” the Regere said, shutting his car door harder than necessary. “Hold nothing back.” He looked at each of them. “Mrs. Monroe will see to you. Wait in your rooms.”

“How’s your shoulder,” Arch asked once the Regere had disappeared inside.

“Hurts, but it isn’t bleeding anymore,” Nellie said. “Are you all right?”

Arch shrugged sheepishly. “Let it get away from me a bit. Calix?”

“No issue,” Calix said, holding his arms out and twisted to show he was dirty and tore his shirt on something, but otherwise fine.

They slowly made their way inside. Nellie suspected the boys did not hurry ahead or walk at their natural gait to create more space between them and her uncle. She did not grow up with him as a powerful figure of admiration, and she still felt the sting of disappointment when he looked at them. Calix and Arch must have felt awful.

Mrs. Monroe dusted a fine powder on Nellie’s wounded shoulder when she checked on her. After a tingling, the wound shut up and she was handed a damp washcloth.

“For the blood,” Mrs. Monroe said. She pulled a clunky cordless phone from one of her apron pockets. “I’ll give you your privacy. Bring the phone down to the parlor when you’ve finished.”

“Um…,” Nellie blushed, embarrassed, “I don’t know–.”

Mrs. Monroe handed her a folded slip of paper. “Ms. Herle’s number, in case you need a refresher.”

Nellie waited until the door clicked shut before unfolding the paper. She dialed, getting the slightest bit of amusement from the buttons giving way to her touch with a beep as she did, and eagerly held the phone to her ear.

‘Hello,’ Nathalie’s voice came unsurely.

“It’s me,” Nellie said, bubbling with excitement. “I have so much to tell you! But first, how’s Ash?”

Once Nathalie updated her, she described Silas’s compound the best she could but frequently defaulted to ‘huge’, ‘grand’, ‘elegant’, and ‘awesome’. She told Nathalie all about the others at the compound, eagerly bringing up how she and Ava already knew each other from school. She mentioned there was a bigfoot in the woods, but did not mention how she, Fin, and Calix found it.

“--and Hodge is there too,” Nellie finished, slightly breathless. “Penny is somewhere, but I guess Hodge stays with Silas when she’s… wherever. Me and Ava go visit him a few times a day. Sometimes we even help feed and clean him. Oh, and Silas has a bunch of jackalopes! Those are real!”

‘Truly,’ Nathalie said. ‘How about that. …Nellie, how’s it going with your uncle? I’ve been dreadfully worried.’

“I guess okay,” Nellie said, sprawling across her bed. “He’s… quieter than I pictured. Or, I don’t know, that probably isn’t the right word. I pictured him more evil or crazy or something, but he’s just some guy.”

‘The unassuming ones end up being the serial killers,’ Nathalie said. She laughed lightly causing Nellie’s heart to ache. ‘Too many podcasts.’

“I miss overhearding them,” Nellie murmured.

‘I miss you too, Nellie love.’ Nathalie sighed heavily. ‘I can’t help but worry with you so far. And with a man I was told to keep away from you. And surrounded by creatures and magic and gods knows what else. What if you were hurt? Would they even be able to get you into hospital without me there?’

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Nellie said. “I got a big gash in my shoulder just an hour ago and it’s already healed. They have this powder–.”

‘I beg your pardon,’ Nathalie interrupted.

Nellie bit her lip, shutting her eyes in dread. “Have you ever heard of a snallygaster,” she asked innocently.

‘Most certainly not, as you well know,’ Nathalie said with an edge. ‘Perenelle, did that man toss you at some dangerous beast?’

“Calix and Arch were with me,” Nellie protested. “And tossed is–.”

‘Oh, so he throws more than just young girls at these monsters,’ Nathalie said, her voice high. ‘How comforting!’ Nellie could hear her swearing but it was too low to make out the exact words. ‘Nellie,unfortunately, I must get off now. Please, write to me. And we’ll speak soon.’

“Are you going to harass Silas” Nellie asked suspiciously.

‘I love you. Bye-bye.’

The phone clicked as the call ended. Nellie stared at the chunky, black plastic and rubber buttons. She groaned and slunk out of her room to put the phone away.

Finding the parlor was easy enough despite Nellie not being certain what a parlor was. The house was big, but nowhere near the mansion that was Silas’s. She found the living room and spotted a long, thin table in a small nook between the living room and formal dining room that housed six phone docks, two of which were empty. She docked her cordless phone on one with a beep.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as a pressure beared down on her. She turned and smiled politely at her uncle.

“How’s your shoulder,” the Regere asked.

“Completely healed,” Nellie said, rotating her shoulder for extra measure.

“Powdered alicorn does wonders,” the Regere said. 

There was a long pause. Nellie rocked up and down on her toes, glancing around while the Regere inspected his cuticles. 

He chuckled. “Perhaps I should’ve brought Morgan. Ah, well, live and learn.” He gestured towards the dining room. “Tea? Dimopoulos is already in the kitchen.”

Calix was nursing a glass of iced tea with several lemon slices. His eyes looked tired now that enough time passed from their entanglement with the snallygaster for his adrenaline to wane. He clamoured to his feet, giving a nod to the Regere.

The Regere gestured to the counter, indicating Calix should sit and that Nellie should sit with him. He took a seat at the small table, turning so that his back was to them and helping himself to a muffin.

“Your parents are part of the Auctorita,” the Regere asked.

“Yes, sir,” Calix said quickly, easing back into his seat. “Rangers. They assist the near Keeper Conservatory.”

“They’ve trained you well,” the Regere said.

Calix swelled, spilling his tea as he tried sipping it with his smile so wide.

Arch walked in and balked at the sight of them. His fair complexion tinted pink and his shoulders slumped when his glittering eyes fell on the Regere’s back. He carefully climbed onto the seat beside Nellie, hanging his head.

“Willoughby,” the Regere said. Arch tensed. “You have great potential. You just need restraint.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” Arch stammered, his cheeks brightening more as a smile took over his handsome face.

“You’ve been schooled by the Order of Ferblanc, correct?” The Regere glanced over at them with a secretive smile. “I was once as well.”

Calix and Arch were so elated that if they floated off their seats it would not have shocked Nellie too much. She could not help but smile along with them, feeling oddly proud of these two boys she had only known a week.

The three of them began recapping the snallygaster, giving way to the excitement of finding and battling such a dangerous cryptid. The Regere was all but forgotten as they went on, growing more at ease. 

Nellie stole a glance at his seat once as Arch lamented not thinking of caging the beast, but found the seat empty. She looked around, seeing the kitchen empty of him, and slipped off her chair. She found him silently striding towards a set of French doors with an old flip phone in his hand.

“Regere,” Nellie called, trotting over. She slowed as his light eyes fell on her but continued forward. “Since we already captured the snallygaster, I was wondering how much longer we’re staying.”

“We leave tomorrow morning,” the Regere said. He brandished his phone. “I was going to have it arranged.”

“Then what,” Nellie asked. “Are there other jobs?”

“Not for you,” the Regere said. He kept his eyes on his phone, slowly dialing a number too long to be local. “This mission was more of a whim. I’d heard you had a bit of magnetism with creatures, and being able to find the snallygaster so quickly speaks to that. Just a bonus I could guise it as assessing Dimopoulos and Willoughby.”

She took a step back, twisting her hands together. There was something cold in her uncle’s voice, something dismissive and dehumanizing in the way he spoke about the three of them.

“Did… you use me as bait,” Nellie asked.

“I suppose so, although Willoughby would’ve also attracted the thing well enough,” the Regere said. “But, having it hunt you in the woods over him was interesting.” He waved his phone at her. “Forgive me, but I should make arrangements before it gets much later. You’ll want to get back to your school friend and Morgan at a decent time.” He paused, halfway into the office. “Oh, and should you want your dog creature to join you at Silas’s, I’m sure I can find a way.” He smirked. “Even if that means shutting down a handful of airports and highways.”

She felt cold, jumping as the office door shut with an echoing click.

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

I used this info for the snallygaster reference, but added the hissed based on Briar's turkey hissing. It sounds super creepy: Snallygaster: The Winged Terror of Maryland – Cryptid Index

I kept trying to figure out how to make magic different than how I do it for Witchboy (and some extent Fable Tale), and then I figured I didn't need to. So, mages/magic people have a conduit to help channel their powers, but unlike in Witchboy it isn't 100% nessecary. They can do magic with one (usually a staff or wand or some type of totem) but it won't be as focused or powerful. Nature/natural magic is an exception, and so is the Regere. And, like in FT (and probably Witchboy to a degree) magic and technology don't mix well, because magic is somewhat like electricity so can short things out. That's my constant with magic across everything even if there are small differences elsewhere (I was trying to find a reason for Amias to whip out an old flip phone to get this explaination happen in story, and it never happened, so out of story one until Nellie isn't creeped out and it comes up, I guess).

The Order of Ferblanc's main role is to keep magic people in check, so they have special schools for mage kids to learn the basics so they understand how to keep themselves under control and learn about how dangerous magic can be to them and others. About half of the kids stay on to be the teachers and caretakers, finding that a better alternative to just hiding what they can do or being afraid of trusting the wrong people with the secret. When the Auctorita was formed, it gave another life path so most of the ones that don't become teachers join up. (And some are recruited/join the Keepers, but a much smaller percent.)

The Regere had impossibly light blue eyes. They almost looked like they glowed given his warm, brown complexion and dark hair. They pierced through Nellie, causing her throat to go dry.

“Perenelle,” the Regere said, his voice smooth. He smirked. “I hate to give into the cliche, but… you’ve grown so much.” His eyes snapped to Silas. “When’s supper?”

“Forty-five minutes, sir,” Mrs. Adams piped up.

“Perfect,” the Regere said. “Come along, Morgan.”

A leaf was added to the long dining room table to make extra space. The usual, plain plates were replaced with ones with gold flourishes. Candles were added along the table for more atmosphere.

Nellie had been required to bring her only nice dress to the compound. It was to look the part when they practiced formal occasions. She tried telling herself that this dinner was nothing but practice, but that did not stop the knots in her stomach. Worse, Mrs. Adams put her to the right of the head of the table.

She popped up from her seat along with the others as the Regere and Morgan entered. Her uncle hesitated before continuing on to his seat. Morgan bore a smug look as he happily went to his at the far end of the table next to Mrs. Adams and across from Itzel.

The Regere glanced at them as they all sank into their seats after he sat. “I wasn’t expecting supper to be such a formal affair, Silas,” he said to his left. “I did show up unannounced.”

“True; I was expecting Amias, but I was going to use having a guest for these kids to practice their table manners anyway,” Silas said.

“Glad to be of service,” the Regere murmured. “I’ll leave tomorrow. I thought it time I peruse your recruits.”

She looked up from her steamed carrots, feeling those eyes on her. He was smiling politely. She tried to return it.

“You did get Brue’s freckles,” the Regere said. “Or a fraction of them. She worried about that.”

“About… me having freckles…?”

“She was teased horribly as a girl,” the Regere said. His eyes slid to the rest of the table. “I assume some of you are seventeen now. Which ones?”

“I am, Regere, sir,” Arch blurted out, nearly knocking his glass over in his urgency to answer.

Calix quietly raised his hand.

Nellie was grateful her uncle’s attention was elsewhere. She leaned into the table to get Morgan’s attention, but he was happily chatting with Itzel at the far end. From Nellie’s vantage point, Itzel’s expression was hidden by a sharp triangle of black hair. With the other side of her head shaved nearly to the scalp (Nellie suspected it was a fire related accident and not a fashion choice) there was no effective way to tie her hair back.

Calix was carefully, but eagerly, telling the story of tripping the bigfoot in the dark. He made gestures to Fin and Nellie; Fin leaping at the chance to embellish the night hike. Nellie was trying to ignore the Regere stealing looks her way, trying to now catch Ava’s eye, but failing with Ava searching the table for an extra napkin. Arden’s swollen lip was leaking.

“Perenelle,” the Regere said, “did you enjoy finding that creature?”

“The bigfoot,” Nellie asked. “I guess so. …I never thought about it.”

She squirmed under the Regere’s piercing stare. She pointedly put her attention back on the rest of her pot roast.

“Silas?”

“Regere?”

“Evora mentioned something about the Order of Ferblanc having quite the time with some snarling, winged beast,” the Regere said. “As I understand, there is no Keeper in the immediate area. Or, if there is, the creature is too much.”

“The Order reached out,” Silas asked, frowning.

“Maybe not formally…” He set his utensils aside. “I’ll bring Perenelle with me. Perhaps Willoughby and Dimopoulos too. Give them experience.”

“Yes, please,” Calix and Arch blurted out together.

“It’s undeniably an opportunity for–,” Silas started politely.

“It’s settled then,” the Regere said.

“Nathalie won’t–.”

The Regere stood, and there was a mad scramble as the rest of the table tried to stand, unsure if that was the correct move or not. Morgan stayed seated at the far end, loudly muttering how his father was not royalty and did not need the pomp.

“Morgan,” he said, “don’t stay up too late. Mind the jetlag.”

Nellie’s blue eyes looked up from what was left of her cold dinner, finding Silas. He was holding his broad forehead with his calloused hand, shaking his head back and forth. She always had trouble estimating how old he was, but now she was certain he was older than Nathalie. He very well could have been Granddad’s age.

That brought up the question of how old was Mrs. Adams since she already looked older than Silas at her most chipper.

“Don’t worry, Nellie, I’ll have a talk with the Regere and give Nathalie a call about all this,” Silas said. He rose to his feet. “Mrs. Adams, please, see to the rest.”

Nellie waited until the table settled before slipping from the dining room. Her short, chunky heels clacked on the polished floor as she ran to catch Silas before he met up with the Regere or locked himself in his office to call Nathalie.

“Silas,” she hissed, closing in on him. “Silas, wait!”

He stopped outside his office. He eyed her quizzically, leaving her space to start the conversation.

“It is a good opportunity,” Nellie said, breathing hard. “Tell her that. And that I’ll write letters. And call during the weekly phone time too.”

“Then, you’re fine going with your uncle to find this…” Silas trailed off, frowning. “I’ll have to ask Regere for more details on what this creature is. Snarling with wings doesn’t exactly narrow it down.”

“Calix and Arch will be there,” Nellie said. “I am dying to see Arch let loose.” She shrugged. “And… Ira never was concerned about the Regere. I think I should spend some time with him.”

The Regere would paint a more intimate picture of Brue. Nellie was not fully sure she wanted all the nitty details of her mother, but she wanted the option to ask. Her uncle was the best person for this, and he could shed more light on why she was now a dragon.

She spent the night tossing and turning. She stayed in bed until light shone through the gap in her curtains. She dressed in jeans, unsure where she would be today. She pulled her backpack from under her bed and left it ready to pack.

The house was eerily still. The sun was up, but it was still too early for more than a lone bird to sing. The floorboards seemed to creak extra loud, especially when she tiptoed past bedrooms.

The Regere stood with his back to her, staring out the large windows in the living room. He wore a silken navy robe over a set of matching pajama pants. His dark hair was messy from sleep.

Nellie teetered on approaching and leaving.

“Good morning, Perenelle.” She jumped, blushing when he turned to her with a smirk. “Sorry I frightened you.”

The Regere did not wear a matching silken navy shirt as she had expected. A worn-to-dark gray Black Sabbath shirt peeked out from the folds of his robe.

“Silas tells me you have a school friend at the compound,” the Regere said conversationally. He chuckled lightly, shutting his cool blue eyes. “I’m not sure what we talk about. It’s a bit awkward.”

Nellie took a seat on one of the plush, leather armchairs opposite of the windows. She scratched at a crack in the leather.

“My father told my uncle not to let you near me,” Nellie mumbled. “I guess he blames you for what happened to Brunhilde…”

“He does. I can’t say that he’s completely wrong to do so.”

She waited for him to elaborate and was strongly reminded of how trying her first conversation with Morgan was. It was a little surprising the head of a secret, international organization was a bad communicator.

“Did you curse her into a dragon,” Nellie asked bluntly.

The Regere snickered, shaking his head. “No, I did not.” He stared at his hands. Then, more to himself, he murmured, “I should’ve been able to stop it. What’s the point of all this power otherwise?”

She searched for something to say to this stranger, but was lost. She had not even known Brue existed half a year ago, let alone this uncle.

Nellie was saved by Morgan stumbling in, his dark hair a mess like his father’s. He also wore a robe over his pajamas, but none of the pieces formed a set with the robe being sage terricloth, the pants red plaid with a rip on the left knee, and the shirt a mustard yellow that had some type of decal that had long been washed off leaving off-white residue.

“Are travel plans set,” Morgan asked, finishing with a yawn.

The Regere glanced at Nellie. “They are,” he said. “Silas was able to contact all guardians for permission and square things away.”

“Oh…,” Morgan said. “Can he add one more? Itzel isn’t near–.”

“Morgan,” the Regere cut off, “before you get ahead of yourself, you aren’t joining us. This excursion is for me to assess and guide–.”

“Nellie gets to go,” Morgan growled.

“Because I don’t know her, and this is–.”

“Oh, but you know me,” Morgan snapped. He glared at his father, then at Nellie. “Fine. Have fun.” He stormed out.

The Regere let loose a long, drawn out groan. Nellie awkwardly studied the crown molding around the ceiling fan.

“The flight is at ten-thirty,” the Regere said. “I’ll meet you at the airport.” He swept from the room, but not after Morgan.

---

It was a short flight—expedited by bypassing security—and a short drive to a blue rectangle of a house full of windows lined with gray shutters. The Chesapeake Bay was just visible in the upstairs windows if Nellie stood on her toes.

She squished her face against the window to better see the ground below. A whoop, muffled by the thick glass, sounded as Arch and Calix ran around like overly stimulated toddlers. A colorful spark shot by her window.

A sharp knock sounded on the pale, wooden door. There was a pause before a slim, petite woman with rosy cheeks and a spiky, grey pixie cut let herself in.

“Tea is downstairs.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Monroe,” Nellie said.

Nellie jumped the last step of the stairs into a modestly decorated foyer. She vaguely wondered if Mrs. Monroe was married. Mrs. Adams did not seem to be despite her name.

The tea was laid out on a polished coffee table. There were bite-sized ham and cheese sandwiches, shortbread cookies, and a pot of tea. She made herself a plate with two sandwiches, three cookies, and poured herself a tea with a sugar cube. She settled near the window.

She was just getting cozy when the Regere walked in. She jumped to her feet, hastily put her sandwich back on the plate, and straightened.

He poured himself a cup and grabbed two cookies without reacting to her. She could have been invisible. He retreated to a corner away from the window, taking up a thin stack of papers left on the wingback chair.

Nellie eased down onto the plush loveseat as she continued to go ignored.

“I won’t say not to be formal,” the Regere said, causing Nellie to spill tea as she startled. “It very well could be a service to you. Stop people thinking you feel entitled due to our connection, unlike a certain boy we both know.” He smirked over the tops of the papers. “When we’re alone, or with family, then all formality, naturally, should be dropped. You are my favorite sister’s only child. That does have a privilege to it.”

“Oh, that’s right, you have another one,” Nellie said, glad there was something they could talk about before diving right into everything involving the Realm. “And a big brother too. Vikram, right?”

“I’m shocked Morgan could tell you his uncle’s name,” the Regere said. “He’s never met the man.” He sipped his tea, his light blue eyes on his papers. “There’s quite the age gap between us.”

Nellie did not feel the need to tell her uncle that Uncle Winston was the one who gave away the Regere’s name that led her to browse the internet and discover her family tree. Uncle Winston would be aghast that she was sitting there speaking to this man. It was best to keep those two completely separate.

“Morgan said Grandfather Agarwal didn’t like him,” Nellie said.

“He doesn’t,” the Regere said. “Nor me.”

“...What about Brue?”

“Indifference.”

“But, why,” Nellie asked. “He’s your dad. That means something, doesn’t it?”

The idea that her mother had a full, complete, intact family but was alone built a lump in her throat. The fact her father left her flittered into her mind.

“You seem troubled,” the Regere murmured. “Uncomfortable with all this father talk?”

She glared at him as her sadness was instantly switched with fury. She shrunk as his eyes snapped to her.

“Your father loved you,” he said. “He didn’t leave because of dislike or indifference, or whatever reason you have swirling in your head. It truly was because he thought he could bring Brue back to you.” He returned to his papers. “Perhaps we should arrange a visit….”

She felt like someone threw ice water in her face. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Y-you know where he is?”

“More or less,” the Regere said nonchalantly, keeping most of his focus on his papers. “Two or three steps behind, I should say.” He set his papers aside and frowned at his cold cup of tea. “To this creature first.”

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

I should pop into HeroForge and try to make Brecken. I was trying to find a good descriptor for his eyes other than 'light blue' or 'pale blue' and was coming up blank. It would need to be something Nellie knows since she's the POV.

Any guess on what this cryptid could be?

Nellie crinkled her nose at the strong stench of rotting meat and burnt hair. She clamped her free hand over her nose, raising the flashlight she held in the other. There was a clear trail through the trees with broken twigs creating an outline roughly seven feet tall. Her skin broke out in goose pimples.

A crash caused her to jump. She cut her scream short, spinning to capture the creature in her light. She exhaled, her adrenaline still coursing through her enough to make her tremble, as a lanky Hispanic boy around fifteen stumbled through the nearest bush.

“Fin,” Nellie hissed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Fin opened his mouth, clamped it shut, and waved his hand in front of his face. “Whew! That bigfoot is close all right!”

“Fin! Ssh!”

“Chill, Nell, we’re just tracking it,” Fin said. “We ain’t supposed to find it.” He squinted at her, frowning. “You’re using the wrong light. And, it’s in my eyes.”

Nellie hastily pointed the flashlight down and switched it to the red light. She stuck close to Fin as they stalked through the woods; she clutching the flashlight and he whacking tree trunks with a switch.

The smell grew stronger. Nellie kept her jaw clenched to stop from visibly gagging.

The trees ahead creaked. The red beam shone on a large, hairy figure crouched and hunched over. Its mossy greenish-brown shoulders heaved as it crunched something that sounded sickenly like bones.

“Oh,” Fin gasped weakly.

The bigfoot snapped its head up and towards them. Its mouth dribbled, and Nellie was hoping the red was just due to the flashlight. She froze as its silverback-like mouth trembled with snarls.

“Nell,” Fin said, keeping his voice low and elbowing her. “The light.” He jabbed her harder, right in the ribs. “Switch the light!”

Nellie fumbled with the flashlight, taking her eyes from the bigfoot as it rose. Cold sweat broke over her as it roared. She managed to switch back to the overly bright, white-yellow light just as she felt the hot breath of the bigfoot bearing over them. She swung it up into its beady, black eyes.

The bigfoot bellowed out in discomfort, spinning away from the light.

She was yanked sideways, then away into a run by Fin. He had his phone out above his head. The weak light of the cracked screen glowed like a rectangular wisp.

“Cal,” Fin called out. “Bigfoot incoming!”

A whistling hiss cut the air, followed by another before the first had time to die away. There was a thunk-thunk and a mighty crash of the bigfoot tripping over itself.

Nellie slowed to see what happened, but Fin grabbed her shoulder to keep her running forward. They put enough space that the bigfoot chose not to follow; its thumping steps trailing and the awful smell drifting off.

They broke through the treeline at a trot.

A large, lush lawn stretched up a gentle hill towards a palace of a house. It was made up of two sections, a three-story and a two-story. There was a story-high connector made of multiple windows that looked like a warm, glowing corridor from the dark. Many of the windows twinkled with light, lighting the house enough to show the neat, black shutters and stone facade.

There was a large firepit near the tennis court off to the side. Laughter wafted towards them on the notes of a speaker playing music, letting them know they were safe.

Fin straightened, stretching his back with a small groan. He flashed Nellie a smile. “S’mores?”

---

The sun blared through a slit in the deep green, velvet drapes, rousing Nellie from her pillows.

Her room at Silas’s compound was a perfect square with dark wood trim and navy walls. Her sleigh style, kingsized bed was loaded with plush pillows, crisp sheets, and a deer skin blanket. It was always hard to leave it.

She was assaulted by the smell of bacon, sausages, and syrup as she headed for the dining room. Her stomach groaned.

The dining room was a cavernous room with a vaulted ceiling. A crystal chandelier was in the middle above the long, rectangular table that stood before a huge, stone fireplace. A shiny gong the size of a trashcan lid was placed off to the side. The table had twelve place settings, three of which were empty. A second table, half as long and half as wide, was against the wall where Nellie entered. This table was ladened with breakfast foods.

She loaded her plate with waffles, eggs, and bacon, and had just sat down when a stout, elderly woman drew everyone’s attention with a slam of her ornate walking stick against the gong.

“Perenelle Herle. Serafin Cabrera. Calix Dimopoulos,” she named off sharply. “Mr. Javernick wants a word. Now.”

She grabbed a waffle on her way out, and was joined by an exhausted looking Fin and a tall, olive-skinned boy with soft, brown curls. She trailed them, their strides being longer, down a hall with white wainscotting to a dark door with bronze fittings. A plaque next to the door read: S. Javernick.

“You think we’re in trouble,” Nellie asked the two older boys.

“We are,” Fin said. “He’ll let you off for being a kid.”

Silas was eating his own breakfast at his desk. He was engrossed with papers on his desk, his reading glasses low on his hawkish nose. He peered over the top of them, set them aside, and straightened.

“Which one of you had the idea to go annoy our resident bigfoot,” Silas asked.

“I thought Nell could get some extra training in,” Fin said. “She’s been here a week, and you haven’t–.”

“Exactly, Serafin,” Silas said firmly. “She’s been here a week. Far too soon to toss her out in the woods in the middle of the night.”

“That’s why I went with her,” Fin said. “I had backup.”

“Calix,” Silas said, nodding to the tall boy.

“I feel Fin had good idea,” Calix said, heavily accented. “I say yes when he ask me to trip bigfoot if I need to. I need to. I trip it. We all go to the fire.”

Silas leaned back in his leather chair, pinching at his eyes. “I’m not saying the plan wasn’t effective. I’m upset that you did it without clearing it. And for dragging a young girl along.”

“This is what we’re training for,” Fin challenged.

“Knight Cabrera didn’t send you here for you to take your training into your own hands,” Silas said. “He certainly didn’t send you here to drag Commander Herle’s daughter off on some hazing trip.” Silas looked at Calix. “Anything to add?”

“I hit target using night goggles…,” Calix said offhandedly.

Silas’s mouth twitched as he tried stopping a smirk.

“You two go back to breakfast before it gets cold,” Silas said. “I need to talk to Nellie.”

“Sorry, Nell,” Fin said, backing out of the office.

“Sorry,” Calix repeated, doing the same.

Nellie squirmed where she stood once the two boys left. Her shoulders eased as Silas smiled at her, shaking his head.

“I know you’re eager to get out in the field, but I promised Nathalie you’d be safe,” Silas said.

“Fin and Calix were with me,” Nellie said. “They’ve been doing this forever.”

“Nellie,” Silas said, a tone of warning.

She sighed heavily. “Fine. I won’t go sneak around the woods.”

“You’ll have field work before you go back to school,” Silas said. “Don’t rush it.” He gestured to the door. “Go get breakfast. Oh, one more thing. Morgan is due to arrive by tonight. I don’t want to put extra pressure on you, but… he is your cousin. Just keep an eye on him.”

Her plate was cold when she returned to it. The warm syrup helped very little, but the food was still delicious. She was the last in the dining room and took her time, enjoying the silence.

Morgan arriving would put them at ten, not including Silas and Mrs. Adams. Six of the ten were boys, and with the youngest of the boys being thirteen, all of them were teenagers. She had a lot of fun with them, but they could be loud and gross beyond her tolerance level.

She headed outside into a warm, sunny day with a welcomed breeze. Figures of the other kids dotted the hillside. It was easy to pick Calix out from the others with him standing apart, shooting at targets. There was a flash of fire which signaled to Itzel—the second oldest of the girls—sparring among them.

Nellie counted six people running, jumping, swinging, shooting. She veered away to the far lawn where the gardens and stables were kept. She waved largely at the two figures in the garden.

Ava jumped up, waving back. “Hey! Missed you at breakfast.”

“Silas didn’t appreciate the extra curricular activity last night,” Nellie said. She glanced at the willowy sixteen-year-old girl with impossibly long, blonde hair. This girl was sitting in the dirt, holding a weed against the bright sky with a vacant smile. “Good morning, Lilac. …What’re you doing?”

“There are so many veins,” Lilac murmured. “Do leaves bleed?”

Nellie inched away from Lilac and turned her full attention to Ava. “What’re you doing in the garden? I thought you were here to learn from Arch and Itzel?”

“Yes… but, they wanted to practice so I…,” Ava trailed away.

It was a welcomed surprise when Nellie met Ava at the airport to fly to Silas’s compound. She apparently came from a line of druids, and her mother’s green thumb was more magical than colloquial. She was supposed to learn the basics from the other two mages to help strengthen her weak, nature-based magic.

Itzel favored fire, and lacked patience. It made her a poor tutor, worse still was the language barrier.

Arch was just Arch.

“Do you see this flower,” Lilac interjected. She was lightly running her fingers up a tall sprig of deep, blue flowers. “It’s poisonous. Causes paralysis.”

“...Cool,” Nellie said.

There was a lapse of silence as Lilac set about plucking the blue flowers, carefully placing them in a small, wicker basket. Nellie suspected the next flower she turned her attentions to was also poisonous.

“Want to visit Hodge,” Nellie asked Ava.

They took a cobbled path from the garden up to the stables. The stables were a long, elegant building made of stone. There were twelve extra large box stalls, a tack room, a carriage room, and a loft.

Hodge was in the stall nestled by the tack room right by the entrance. He was snoozing with his feet curled to his stomach. His head bobbed rhythmically as if he was dreaming.

“He’s so beautiful,” Ava whispered, clutching the bars on the door. Tears brimmed her eyes. She hastily removed her glasses to wipe them away. “S-sorry. This is a lot.”

“Tell me about it,” Nellie said. She pressed her face into the bars to watch Hodge sleep. “I’ve had five months to get used to the Realm, and it still makes my head spin.”

“I knew magic was real,” Ava said. “The jokes about Mammaw being a witch never had any punch to them. But, unicorns, bigfoot, a secret society….”

Silas made it clear before the tickets were booked that his compound was routinely used for the Auctorita to assess potential recruits. Some of the kids were children of Auctorita members, or of the Order of Ferblanc, or had some kind of tie to the Seekers, but others were like Ava; Silas or someone happened to stumble upon them.

“My cousin is coming in tonight,” Nellie said.

“The one that was visiting over Spring Break? I never did get to meet him.”

Hodge lifted his head. His nostrils flared. He staggered to his cloven feet, and began pawing at the shavings in agitation.

A stocky, black boy with a surfer bro vibe sauntered up to them. He wore a thick, leather chestpiece over his t-shirt. A wooden sword was on his hip and a small, metal disc shield was attached to his left forearm.

“Sorry, Hodge, I’ll hang back,” he said to the increasingly angry unicorn.

“What’s up, Brody,” Nellie asked.

“Class time,” Brody said. He jumped back as Hodge body slammed the stall. “Okay, okay, I'm leaving! Hurry along you two, or Mrs. Adams will have a fit.”

Nellie and Ava were just visiting for the summer, but for the other kids, they lived at the compound year-round. They were schooled throughout the year in all the regular subjects, Nellie and Ava were exempt from those, but they also had supplemental classes in diplomacy, debate, etiquette, histories of the Realm, and other such lessons; those were the lessons required for all of them.

She was sitting at a wooden writing desk next to Ava and the youngest of the boys, Arden, fifteen minutes later. The lesson of the morning was cryptid focused; Nellie suspected it had something to do with the bigfoot venture the previous night as there were questions on the difference between the ape-like creatures.

“Let’s review the worksheet,” Mrs. Adams said, slowly pacing in front of them. She stopped and put her hands on her hip. “Miss Maebry, put that larkspur back in your basket!”

Lilac stopped sniffing the blue flower she delicately held, dropping it into the wicker basket tucked under her desk.

“Now then… let’s continue.”

It was amazing how treating the seven-foot tall, carnivorous beasts like homework rendered them as dull as fractions. After the lecture and worksheet review, Mrs. Adams quizzed them on dinner etiquette until the study period was over.

“Miss Wagner, one moment,” Mrs. Adams said, holding her hand out to stop Ava and Nellie from leaving the study room. “How are your magical studies going?”

“Um… fine…,” Ava murmured.

“I expect progress to be slow,” Mrs. Adams said. “Nature based magic is less common; much more akin to being an excellent gardener than what we think of as magic. That, plus being young will make things slow. I don’t expect you to really blossom, pardon the expression, until thirteen or fourteen.” She attempted a smile with her thin mouth. “Don’t worry so much about it. Just listen to Miss de la Torre and Mr. Willoughby.” Her overly plucked eyebrows lowered. “Well, perhaps just Mr. Willoughby, given the language situation.”

Mrs. Adams gave a curt nod, and swept by them, calling out to Fin for her check-in with him before the year-round boarders returned to lessons.

Nellie and Ava returned to the stables. They gaped at Hodge for a while before going to the two last stalls. One of them housed what looked like eight slightly larger rabbits, but that was dashed with the other stall housing the same rabbits except that these five had small antlers.

“Mr. Javernick said they were mixing them next week,” Ava said.

“Before going to the Conservatory?” Nellie smiled as a buck scratched his antlers against a stump. “I guess it’ll be less work for the Keepers if they try to start breeding here.”

As it turned out, jackalopes were headed towards the endangered species list. Between cars, construction projects, and the tourist traps’ taxidermy being genuine, the small rabbits had taken a hit. Silas had a fondness for them—Nellie was not completely sure he was joking when he said he used to eat them in his youth—so helped out with building the population whenever the Keepers needed.

Hodge started carrying on, snorting and stamping the ground. Fin walked over with a side eye at Hodge, scooting further from his stall as the unicorn grew more agitated.

“Mr. Javernick is looking for you,” he informed them. He grinned at the jackalopes. “I’m your keeper today. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Does he want to see both of us, or can I help,” Ava asked.

Nellie jumped in at Fin’s unsure expression. “Creatures don’t mind her,” she said. “Her magic isn’t like the magic-magic.”

“Just with the females, to be on the safe side,” Fin said. He winked at Nellie. “Gotten into enough creature related trouble for the week.”

Nellie left Fin and Ava to the jackalopes. She went back to the house and found herself outside Silas’s office. She took a breath, knocked, and slithered inside when she was told to enter.

“Ah, there you are,” Silas said, setting his reading glasses aside. He picked up a sealed letter from his desk. “Nathalie sent a letter.”

“Oh… thanks,” Nellie said, accepting it.

Silas smiled. “You seem disappointed.”

“Guess I was expecting… something,” Nellie said. She opened the letter, scanning over it, a smirk spreading across her face. “Ash is doing good. And she’s teaching the hobbyist welding course at the tech college twice a week.” She groaned. “She thinks letter writing is a lost art and says I should write her instead of relying on the weekly phone usage.”

“You can write everyday, even if the mailing takes longer than a text,” Silas said. “It is a good way to keep sharp. But, I still say you give her a call Saturday. She’ll want to hear your voice.”

The warmness she felt at Silas’s statement waned as her mind wandered. She folded up her letter.

“Something else, Nellie?”

“You said Morgan was coming tonight…”

“I suspect Amias will be his chaperone,” Silas said. He snorted. “Even my compound is too much nature for him. I hope he stays long enough to hear our resident bigfoot bellow.”

With her pressing concern answered, Nellie happily went back outside. It would be good to see her godfather again.

The afternoon was filled with gardening while the others were in class, a review of etiquette with a lesson on debate tactics, and watching the boys sparring on the lawn.

Arden went flying back as Brody blocked and countered with a pummel from his shield. Nellie joined Ava and Brody in a heavy wince. The spindly, brunette boy lay still on his back a moment before a weak chuckle shook his torso.

“Arden, you good,” Brody called. Brody visibly exhaled as Arden threw up a thumbs up. He turned his attention to Nellie. “Want a turn?”

Nellie and Ava exchange looks of varying levels of unsurness. A quick glance towards Arden, now sitting up, revealed a busted lip. Nellie had been reluctant to join in on the sparring despite it looking like fun, and this was not helping her reservations.

“Should I go,” Lilac asked, lying on her stomach and kicking her feet over her head. Her long hair spilled across the grass like a golden blanket.

Nellie climbed to her feet, dusted her pants, and took the wooden sword Calix hastily brought her. The other boys had all stopped when Arden was thrown, and continued to watch with anticipation when Brody extended his offer.

She adjusted her grip on the sword like how she was taught. It still felt bulky and unnatural.

“I won’t move,” Brody said, raising his circular shield. “Give that a whack.”

“Me next,” Fin said, striking a battle stance next to Brody.

“Also me,” Calix chimed in.

Arch—tall and lean with a movie star smile—hung back, using an ornate walking stick to counter his weight, leaning back playfully. “I’ll sit this one out,” he said. His emerald eyes went to Ava. “Do you want some pointers while these barbarians smack each other?”

“Whose a barbarian,” Arden protested, his lip still oozing and now growing fat.

“Go on, Nellie, give me a hit,” Brody encouraged.

Her wooden sword thudded lamely against Brody’s shield. Her cheeks burned. She could not decide if she held back, or was weaker than she realized. Brody was fighting to keep from laughing.

“Now me,” Fin said, unfazed and elbowing Brody aside. “Right on the sword.”

She started to relax as she took turns hitting Brody and Fin (Arden was still nursing his busted lip, Calix went back to shooting targets, and Arch was now chatting with Lilac, Itzel, and Ava). They helped her improve her grip, and she found herself starting to smirk as they, slowly, swung back at her and she was able to dodge.

The bell rang out across the lawn to signal for them to come in. The sun had started to set leaving the sky with a blush. They hiked up to the house, sweating, dirty, and feeling accomplished.

“My goodness,” Mrs. Adams said, eyeing them disapprovingly. “You certainly used your free period well. Now, hurry and wash up. Dinner will be more formal tonight, so do be sure to… dress… appropriately.”

The back of Nellie's neck prickled in time with Mrs. Adams going ashen. She felt as if a low electrical current was creeping over her arms and running down her spine. It was magic. Unmistakably, but nothing at all like what she felt off Arch, Itzel, or even Amias.

Silas burst out of his office. His eyes widened, and he gave a quick, respectful nod of his head. “R-Regere, welcome.”

Nellie was vaguely aware she was now the only person that had not turned around. She drew in a breath, clenched her fists, and turned.

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

I'm going to need to reorder so much of this. But, yes, predictions with Ava maybe having something up was correct. With her magic being the unusual nature based stuff, she doesn't trigger creatures like Amias did. You can think of her (eventual) ability as that one lady that can get anything to grow no matter the climate or time of year. Since her magic is more natural, it is connected more with how her body works which is why Mrs. Adams mentions her age. Ava won't be able to do anything until she hits puberty, lol.

Penny isn't at the compound. She keeps Hodge there if she's away somewhere where taking him would be too much of a hassle or impossible. (In this case, she's overseas for a bit.)

And now the newbies! Arden (13) doesn't have a surname right now since I didn't need one yet. Calix Dimopoulos (17) is a Greek boy with family in the Auctorita. Serafin "Fin" Cabrera (15) is an American from one of the southern states, his father is a Knight with the Order of Ferblanc. Brody Jones (16) is either American from up north, or possibly he's only half American with the other being either UK or Australia. He's got connections through the Auctorita. Lilac Maebry (16) is one of those that was stumbled upon. Not sure her exact origins, probably American. Archibald "Arch" Willoughby (17) is from the UK with connections through the Order of Ferblanc. Itzel de la Torre (14) is from Brazil and has connection through the Keepers.