Firebrand Risk
P.Track.2
August 12, 2025

Nellie first woke up too early due to the time difference and the fact that she had passed out far too early not to. She crept into the kitchen, ate a slice of bread, and left two on the floor near the not-dog who was sleeping on the couch. She crawled back into bed after that, and woke much too late the next time.

Nathalie was gone and left a note on the counter with presumably some breakfast. Nellie found a broken plate alone with the soggy, illegible paper. She sighed at the creature ripping stuffing from the couch.

“It makes much more sense to skip school today and get you sorted out, doesn’t it,” she asked him. “I’m late as is, so it makes perfect sense to just take a full absence, right?” She and the animal regarded each other before the latter began to resume his destruction. “Good. Glad it makes sense to the both of us.”

She scrounged up something to eat, threw the broken plate away, and dressed for the day. She got the not-dog to follow her out to one of the out buildings using the rest of the bread, shutting him inside.

“I’ll find you something better to eat for later.” She tapped the door softly. “Be a good boy. Take a nap.”

Nellie set out after pulling up her destination on her phone. The reception was spotty at best and she did not want to risk attempting to remember if she needed to stay south or west or what have you.

The Moore County Library was a much smaller building than she anticipated. It was a single story off-white brick building with tiny, slant windows around the roofline. It was scarcely larger than a warehouse. The open floor plan inside was bright and welcoming, but did not leave much room for books. The books Nellie saw at a glance were all for toddlers and elementary aged children.

She approached the desk. “Um, excuse me?” She smiled as the library peered up at her. “Do you have any non-fiction books on cryptids?”

“Cryptids? Like bigfoot?”

“I suppose so, but… not bigfoot,” Nellie said. “I was hoping for ones that looked like wolves or dogs.” She recoiled under the librarian’s perplexed stare. “Or, what about local folktales and stuff?”

“I can search the database, but my guess would be that we don’t carry anything like that,” the librarian said. “We focus more on storytime and book club. Have you tried the internet?”

There was a great urge to point out how someone her age would go to the internet first, but Nellie held her tongue. She took a breath.

“I think the internet guy is coming today,” she said.

“Oh, so, you’re new here,” the librarian said. “Figured you were born somewhere else with that accent.”

“Florida,” Nellie said. Her smile dipped. “I moved here from Florida. I might’ve been born somewhere else….” She recovered her smile with force. “Do you have computers?”

“You would need a library card,” the librarian explained. “I can get you the forms. I just need one of your parents to show their ID.”

Her face was beginning to ache from the amount of force it was taking to maintain her friendly disposition. She thanked the librarian stiffly and wandered outside.

Lynchburg was starkly different from Sunrise, Florida. Sunrise was busy with traffic, crowded with stores of all kinds, and there was food from everywhere (Middle Eastern, South American, Indian, just off the top of her head from those near her old condo). Lynchburg, Tennessee was–apparently–known for Jack Daniel’s whiskey. Many of the small buildings–most one story–had old ads featuring the whiskey painted on their bricks. There was a walking trail of sorts related somehow nearby. The town was not without a certain charm with the style reminiscent of the Old West, and the stores all being local and unique to themselves.

Nellie felt her hollow stomach and headed for the coffee shop.

The inside was cramped with exposed brick walls and wooden beams overhead. There were two separate counters, one for coffees and hot foods and another for ice cream. Most of the seating at the long, glossy tables was taken up by retirees nursing dark coffees and eating biscuits smothering in chunky, white sausage gravy.

“Hi, welcome in!”

Nellie smiled at the older woman behind the counter, approaching with her eyes up on the menu. As hungry as she was, subs, paninis, and calzones all seem unappetizing. The ten dollar minimum price was not doing much to sway her either.

The cinnamon rolls were just under half the price, though the sight of the inch thick caked on frosting that was melting at the edges in a watery ooze had her questioning if she would be able to make the hike back home without vomiting. Her hunger won out, and she carried her cinnamon roll–complete with a plastic fork stuck in the top–away from the counter. She surveyed the tables for a spot to sit.

“This seat is open,” called an elderly woman with her hair dyed into a bleached blonde. “We’re finishing up.”

Nellie dropped into the offered seat beside–presumably–the woman’s husband. She gave them a big smile. “Thanks.” She poked at her cinnamon roll at a loss on how to start it. “It’s cold today, isn’t it?”

“Sure is! February will be terrible with us getting snow now.”

Nellie tried to be discreet as she started scraping off the chunk of frosting. “February is worse?”

“Usually,” the woman said. She took a sip to finish off  her coffee. “January and February are clear cut winter. March can be bitter, but we don’t usually get the snow.”

The old man tilted his head at her. “Where are you from?”

“Florida.”

The pair exchanged an ‘ah’ with the smallest hint of envy.

“Beautiful place,” the old man said. “We try visiting every winter just to get a break from the cold. Didn’t get the chance this year. Price of everything is too high.”

“I was thinking ‘this girl can’t be from California, too nice’ and now it makes sense,” the old woman added. “Such nice people down in Florida.”

Nellie forced out a polite smile, and took a nibble of her cinnamon roll to avoid needing to comment. She never thought of people from one area or another as being nicer or more unpleasant. It was too simple. There were people in Florida that had been nasty to her, and those that had been kind. She never met anyone from California that she knew of, but also did not have a habit of asking people where they came from. She only asked if it was a foreign exchange student, or if they had an accent like her mom’s.

Her demeanor turned glum at the thought of Nathalie. She would not be able to avoid asking her if they were related forever. She would need to confront her about her entire life being a lie.

“Are you all right, miss?”

Nellie smiled for the couple again. “Yes, just tired. …I heard odd noises last night. Growls, and such, but not like any I’ve heard before.”

“Could be a bigfoot,” the old man mused, rubbing his wrinkled chin.

“Oh you!” His wife reached across the table and playfully whacked his arm. “Don’t pay him any mind.”

“I have noticed a lot of bigfoot silhouettes and statues decorating the area,” Nellie said, largely focusing on the man. “Does this area have bigfoot stories? In Florida, we had skunk-bear, which is like a stinker bigfoot.” She leaned forward with a grimace, and whispered in a whisper elderly people in an eatery could hear, “I swear I smelt it before.”

The old man lit up. It was the exact reaction Nellie had hoped for.

“You a believer in bigfoot, young lady?”

“I’m not sure,” Nellie said, poking her ever hardening cinnamon roll. “Like I said, I think I smelled a skunk-bear, but what if it wasn’t that? But then, when I was hiking in the Everglades once, I saw odd tracks, like a panther but the feet didn’t line up like it had four legs. It looked more like six. Wampus cats look like panthers and have six legs… but surely….”

She trailed away to allow the old man’s excitement to grow. She picked a bit of cinnamon roll off the mass, giving a small shrug of indifference and unsureness to better sell her apprehension on believing in cryptids. It took a lot of willpower not to smile at the sparkle in the old man’s eye.

“Young lady, do not be so quick to ignore imagination. Kids these days, no imagination!”

The old woman reluctantly nodded. “That is true.” She set her mouth in a firm line. “But you shouldn’t encourage–.”

“Wampus cat!” The old man clapped his hands–startling Nellie and the others at the sudden loudness of it. “No one talks about those, and there were so many stories! They’re widespread in this country, just as sure as those mountain lions they get mistaken for are. Just as sure as bigfoot!”

“I had a bigfoot print in my backyard,” called another retiree who was ordering at the counter. “No doubt about it. We got one that crosses through the yard once or twice a year.”

“I remember stories of them six-legged cats as a girl,” an elderly woman said as she picked up her coffee.

A wide, excited smile spread across Nellie’s face and wrinkled her freckled nose. This was better than she hoped. She nestled on her hard seat in a vain attempt to make it more comfortable.

“I’d love to hear some of these local stories,” she said eagerly, genuinely.

---

The winter sun was so low by the time that Nellie got back to her house that it did not penetrate the trees. The clearing where the house stood was as dark as if night had settled, and no lights shone from the windows. That was a positive–Nathalie was not home yet–and a negative–it was harder to navigate the stoney area to the front door. The not-dog howling and carrying on from where he was locked up did not help the overall vibe of the area, but Nellie ignored him and burst into the house, slapping at the wall for the lightswitch.

She frantically dug through a moving box in the kitchen, rummaging until she found the loose pens and half-used notepads at the bottom that had been on the fridge in Florida to keep track of grocery lists. She jotted down a list; Cumberland dragon, raven mocker, smoke wolf, wampus cat, white screamer, werewolf (Woodbury/Dickson). She left off bigfoot and the Bell Witch, not only because she was confident her not-dog was not one–she was certain he was a smoke wolf now–but because they were well known enough she could easily look into them at her leisure. She ended her list with griffin/gryphon(?). 

That one definitely needed looking into. She knew enough to know those were not native to Tennessee, and old Mrs. Throneberry sounded both uncertain that was what she saw–having done her own research after the sighting–and confident she had seen something of the sort last Wednesday.

Nellie dug the communal laptop out of a box in the living room. After waiting for the ancient thing to turn on with a dreadful hum, she hovered over the internet icon, frowning.

The bar at the bottom showed no internet connection, so Nathalie had not set the new Wi-Fi up on the laptop yet. She clicked it to see if she could connect it herself–the password would be the same as always if Nathalie at least had the chance to change it from the preset one.

There was no available network.

“Did the internet guy not show up,” Nellie mused out loud.

She set the laptop on a stack of boxes, and gave into the howls. There were boneless pork chops in the crisper that were likely meant to be tonight’s dinner, but Nellie was not in the mood for one of Nathalie’s hard, overcooked bricks. No amount of applesauce helped. She tore off the plastic, scrunching her freckled nose as she touched the slimy meat.

The smoke wolf quieted with his howls replaced by loud sniffing at the door.

“Sorry for the wait, boy,” Nellie called through the door. “Hopefully, three pork chops will be enough for the night.”

She carefully edged the door open. The sniffing grew louder as the smoke wolf jammed his nose through the crack, prying the door to get his muzzle through, and then his head. Nellie handed him a pork chop, quickly pulling her hand away to avoid her fingers being snapped off.

“You’ll need to learn to take it gentle,” she said in mild scolding. “Back up, please. I can’t let you out in this cold, and Mom would have a fit if I brought you back in.”

She tossed the second chop over the smoke wolf’s head, and was able to slip inside the out building. She instantly regretted shutting the door, cutting off any meager light seeping from the house windows. She could not see the styrofoam tray in her hands, nor the smoke wolf. All she could hear was his snapping jaws, small growls, and the tearing of meat. Then, it was silent.

“I–,” she cleared the squeak in her throat, “--I’ve only got one left….”

There was a faint, red glow from the smoke wolf’s eyes among the blackness. He was watching her, and was inching nearer, completely silent. The absurd image of a pair of red eyes floating among a wisp of black smoke crossed her mind, causing her to snicker softly. She startled as the tray in her hands was bumped, the eyes blinking out and blinking back some feet away with a low growl.

“You startled me first,” Nellie said. She cringed at the raw pork texture as she grabbed the last piece, throwing it towards the glowing eyes. She paused with her hand on the door. “Wish I could let you back out, really, but with the cold and all, I don’t think it wise.” She gave a shiver as she cracked open the door. “Think I’ll find you some blankets. I want to be certain you don’t get too chilly out here.”

There was more than just the winter that made her hesitate to let the smoke wolf go. Mr. Knott told her that when he had seen smoke wolves some odd forty years ago, they had been in a pack out in the Appalachians of West Virginia. They likely had a territory range like any animal would, but no pack for a pack animal was trouble.

Nellie smiled as she pulled spare bedsheets from a box in Nathalie’s room. The smoke wolf did not hurt her when they were in the dark, where it had the clear advantage unlike in the house or during the day in the woods. He had followed her of his own accord. Being a social animal–assuming smoke wolves shared behavior with normal wolves–he was probably looking for a friend.

“I need to learn more about wolves,” Nellie murmured. She fought the sheets into a large wad. “I swore the internet was coming today. How annoying! Oh! He’s probably thirsty after all that pork.” She considered the fullness of her arms. “Another trip then.”

She returned to the outbuilding with more confidence, wedging her way through the door and closing it with her foot. She spoke to the smoke wolf calmly as she attempted to lay out the blankets in a neat pile in the darkness; telling him of the old folks she spoke with and the awfulness of the slab of icing on the cinnamon roll. For his part, he stayed quiet and kept a good foot away judging on where his eyes were. He was either crouching or lying down. Nellie chose to believe he was lying down.

Finding a suitable water bowl was more of a challenge. The only bowls unpacked thus far were for cereal, and they did not seem near large enough. Nellie started digging though one of the opened boxes in the kitchen when she heard the gravel crunching outside. She glanced up to catch the familiar headlights of Nathalie’s Crown Victoria before returning to her digging, her shoulders now stiffened.

Nathalie came barging in through the front door with a cold gust of wind at her back. Her pale skin was red, and the shining anger in her blue eyes indicating her complexion was not just from the cold.

She threw her keys at the couch with no key hook yet unpacked.“Perenelle!”

Nellie kept her focus on searching the box despite now seeing it was full of random cookery utensils and no bowls. Hot tears prickled in the corners of her eyes.

“Are you not going to say anything to me,” Nathalie asked. “You well know I’m only this cross with you because I know you’ve skipped school.” Nathalie jumped at the long, horrible howl that sounded from the outbuilding. She put her hand over her heart, taking a breath. “And that thing–!”

“Smoke wolf,” Nellie muttered.

The correction caused Nathalie to go crimson. She hissed out a long breath. “Do you know what I've been doing while you were skipping school to play with that creature? I’ve just been down to your school, for hours, trying to convince them you are not hiding a pregnancy from me!” She threw her hands in the air. “Of course they think I’m being daft. They want to call the State. The State, Perenelle Herle! We’ve not been here a week and they want to step in!”

The tears broke, hot and angry. Nellie stormed from the kitchen, ignoring Nathalie’s shout to stop. She threw herself into her room but was stopped from slamming the door by Nathalie wedging herself in the way with a sharp yelp.

“Oh no, you will not lock yourself in and hide like last night,” Nathalie said. “I let that go, trying to be understanding of this all being new, but causing such scandal to your teachers is much too far.”

Nathalie was shifting from fury to bedraggled. Her pale hair was already a mess from being tied up in a bun all day, but had loosened during her show of anger. The flush had left her face and left her sallow; her eyes now straining to keep her own tears in.

“Nellie… if you were so upset over the move, I wish you’d just have told me rather than all this. If the State gets involved….”

Nellie dragged her wrists under her eyes to cut the angry tears. There was a tremor in Nathalie’s tone that was foreign and uncharacteristic. She guiltily rubbed her arm and looked at the floor.

“I didn’t mean for that dumb teacher to think I was pregnant…. Sorry.” She bit her lip to stop the smirk forming. “Bit of a reach, isn’t it? Idiot.”

“Perenelle, this is serious,” Nathalie said. She rubbed her forehead. “Why on earth ask all those questions if not to give her that impression?”

“I…,” Nellie trailed off. Her chest hurt. Her eyes began to well again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Nathalie’s face clouded. Her forehead wrinkled with worry, and she took hold of Nellie’s shoulders, squeezing them hard and bending to eye-level. “Did something happen? Did you hear of something happening?”

“No!” She broke away and pushed around Nathalie back into the rest of the house. “I just… just need to get water out to that poor smoke wolf. I’m thinking of calling him Ash….”

“You are not keeping–Do not switch the topic,” Nathalie said, following Nellie as she went back to find a mixing bowl.

Nellie refused to answer as Nathalie pelted her with the same question said different ways. She finally extracted a large Pyrex and began filling it.

“You are not giving him my good mixing bowl!”

“He needs something,” Nellie protested. “Just for tonight. I’ll go out–.”

“You will go to school and explain how you lied,” Nathalie said firmly. “I’ll call animal control–.”

“Ash isn’t just some animal, Mom!” She glared. “Or….”

“He can’t stay here, Nellie,” Nathalie said, exasperated. “Have you noticed we still have no internet service? The poor man called my phone terrified. Heard that thing–.”

“His name is Ash!”

“--carrying on and refused to wait for me.” Nathalie scoffed. “All the good that would do, honestly.”

“He’s still scared,” Nellie protested. “He’ll settle down. He’s young, probably, and lost, maybe.”

She carried the Pyrex towards the door, trying hard not to slosh it. A bucket would be better as a long term solution, and filling it with the hose would be more efficient. Except that it was currently winter and they did not have a hose. 

She spilt water down her pants as Nathalie threw herself in front of the door.

“I told you that you are not using my good mixing bowl,” she said. “Go put it away and sit. We aren’t finished.”

Nellie narrowed her eyes. “I would rather not talk about how you aren’t my mother, but if you insist.”

All the color drained from Nathalie’s face.

Nellie gave a cry–that shock the final confirmation–and pushed outside. She was grabbed, yanked away, and in the process the Pyrex shattered on the front steps. She did not turn to see Nathalie’s expression, or the broken bowl, and ran straight for the howling outbuilding.

---

It was the loud but trying to be quiet murmuring from the living room that caused Nellie to wake up. It was still dark and cold, suggesting it was much too early and not simply winter hours. Her phone read 1:21 AM. She sat up and watched a fluffy blanket fall to the floor.

She had stayed out with Ash until all the lights had gone off, then snuck back inside and collapsed on her bed. Nathalie must have covered her. That blanket had still been in a box.

Nellie wrapped it around her shoulders and snuck to her door. She pressed her ear to the edge, easing it open a crack. The warmth of a light out in the living room seeped in along with Nathalie’s tired, strained voice.

“--can’t hear well, sorry, Winny. Reception is dreadful out here. Internet was supposed to come–no matter.” There was a pause. “No, no, I can text you a summary after. I just… just really needed to hear your voice. As much as I can hear it.” She sighed heavily. “Honestly, Win, I don’t understand how there is no cell service. But, I’m calling about–. Hello? Winston? Winston. Can you hear me?” Nathalie stifled a sob. “Winston, please, be able to hear me. Nellie found out. I-I don’t know what to do.”

Nellie jumped, wincing at the creak in the floor, but whatever had Nathalie shoot to her feet so suddenly covered the sound.

“Winny? Oh, good, is this better? Did you hear what I said about Nellie? You did!” Nathalie’s floorboards creaked as she swayed. “What do I do? Rhys didn’t–. Winny? Hello? Winston, can you hear–? Sod it!”

The couch groaned as Nathalie threw herself onto it, resolved to text the conversation instead.

Nellie carefully crept backwards to her bed, slithering down into it. She felt oddly hollow. Nathalie had confirmed again, with words this time, that she had been lying to her. It was how Nathalie waited until she was asleep to make that phone call that churned her stomach.

Uncle Winston was a jovial man with a dark sense of humor. He was several years older than Nathalie, and her confidant before any big decision. Nellie had been on most of the Zoom calls between him and Nathalie as she decided to move them out of Florida. Nellie liked talking to Uncle Winston, liked the few visits even more–despite his grown kids being complete snobs. There was a whole new betrayal to know he hid this from her, and helped Nathalie lie.

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

I have no idea what I'm calling this, so first chapter was That Thing w/Perenelle, and this is P.Track.2 which is how it's labeled in my docs, lol. The coffee shop is real. I didn't get a chance to visit, so I don't know if the clientle is elderly or hipster, but like all the small towns around here, they tend to be elderly so I went with that. It made for a better way for Nellie to get some info. The old people really do complain often about Californians (or anyone not originally from TN/the south, honestly) but they aren't always mean about it, so I figured with Nellie being polite and curious, they'd be more willing to talk. (Often times here, "natives" don't talk to anyone minus casual small talk pleasentries. They never give up info on the area, it was a big pain the first time we lived here trying to navigate where things were and stuff--IN was the same way, weirdly enough.)

Slowly filling out Nathalie's side. I couldn't think of anything more British than Winston, so had to call him that. Their parents also have much more traditional names, and some woman connected to Winston is Margret (Margo). I don't know if it's his wife or daughter, leaning more towards wife since he'd probably just have named his daughter Margo straight up. I'm thinking him and Nathalie are roughly 5-7 years apart. I wanted to have Nathalie on Zoom with him so there was more conversation, but then remember there was no internet and most of the middle of this state is dead zone.

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P.Track.18

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.

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December 19, 2025
P.Track.17

Nellie’s eye shot open in time with the feeling that she just fell back into her body. She stared at her black ceiling, tensing at the harsh buzzing rattled from her nightstand. She blinked, her head fuzzy with whatever dream she had been having slipping away. She answered her phone.

“Hello,” she mumbled, sinking back onto her pillow.

Oh, good, you’re awake,’ came Morgan’s voice.

She internally admonished herself for forgetting to silence her phone. She squinted through her bright screen seeing it was just after 4AM.

I heard my father is planning a visit,’ Morgan said.

“Visit?” Nellie yawned. “What visit?”

Are you really awake,’ Morgan asked, annoyed.

“No,” Nellie said.

My father,’ Morgan said slowly and with annoyance, ‘the Regere, is planning a visit to you in Tennessee. It sounds like he wants to bring you here to live. Oh, I got to go! My mother is coming!

The line went dead.

---

There was no way to confirm what Morgan said. He had been grounded for running off to America, and whenever Nellie texted or called, his mother would answer to remind her that he had another month on his sentence. Evora would ask a follow up, typically how school was or how she was doing, but never continued the conversation beyond that no matter how badly Nellie sensed she wanted to.

The first week after Spring Break dragged by in a bundle of nerves. Nellie jumped at everything, expecting her uncle to suddenly appear. It was unhelpful that she had no idea what he looked like, and kept picturing Grandfather Agarwal with blazing red eyes.

By the second week after Spring Break, Nellie’s nerves calmed. She had been mostly asleep during Morgan’s call. She could have misheard. She would have thought she dreamed the whole thing if it was not for the call log on her phone.

Good morning, students,’ Ms. Pelham’s voice came over the loud speaker. ‘We have a special guest this week. Mr. Javernick is here from the state to conduct an assessment. He’ll meet with every single one of you to ask about your time at school. Please, speak honestly and let him know how much you enjoy your time here. First homeroom up will be Mr. Hardin’s.

Emma and Sophia leaned into each other up ahead to whisper about this development. Nellie hurried over as soon as the bell rang to join in.

“Has this happened before,” Nellie asked.

“Not since we started,” Sophia said. “It does happen. It’s, like, an audit or something for real.”

“OMG, if we listen to the principal and talk this place up, then we might get a pizza party or something,” Emma said happily. “And, like, real pizza. Not school pizza.”

They split off to their classes. Nellie perked up as the next homeroom was called, watching her class lose five students to the call. Two entered, muttering to each other. They were smiling and appeared at ease.

She waited all day for her homeroom to be called, but it never came. Olivia had her homeroom called at the end of the day, but being near the end in the alphabet, she was not able to fill them in until their morning locker gathering.

“He’s so nice,” Olivia said, tossing her curls off her shoulder. “Like your favorite, old uncle. I was so nervous, but that went away so fast!”

“What’d he ask about,” Ava asked.

“Nothing important,” Olivia said, shrugging. “Asked if I liked my teachers. Wanted to know if I thought classes were boring or not.”

“I wonder what he’s looking for,” Nellie mused.

“Um, I just told you,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes.

Nellie clenched her jaw and did not respond. Olivia could be right; this could simply be an audit of the school, but it was not sitting right with her. She tuned out the rest of Olivia’s dramatic retelling of her boring fifteen minute interview, pulling out her phone to silence it. She found a message from Ira.

I’m so sorry I went quiet. Penny told me you met.

That was all. After weeks of silence.

The bell for homeroom sounded. Nellie trailed after Sophia and Emma with her thumbs hovering over her keyboard. She was forced to pocket it without answering as Miss Campbell shot her a glare.

Her homeroom still had not been called by lunch. She took her usual seat and looked around for the others, spotting Emma and Olivia instantly.

“We still haven’t been called,” Nellie said offhandedly.

“OMG, Perenelle, don’t worry so much,” Emma said. “Olivia said he was nice.” She looked at Olivia for her validation. “Right?”

“Right,” Olivia said.

Sophia joined them with a heavy sigh. “We still haven’t been called yet,” she lamented.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Olivia said sympathetically. “He really is nice. I’m sure your class is next.”

“Yeah,” Emma chirped. “It’ll be over with before you know it.”

Nellie turned so they would not catch her rolling her eyes. She looked around for Ava, frowning.

“Hey,” came Mason’s voice from behind her. He stood at the other end of the table with his tray. His casual expression began to turn uncomfortable as the girls whispered and snickered and prodded each other.

Nellie gave the three of them a few seconds, and then answered, “Hi.” It was a mistake. She felt the daggers on her back.

“Our homeroom was called right before lunch,” Mason said, focusing on Nellie. “Ava went in right before the bell.”

“Oh, cool, thanks,” Nellie said.

“Emma was supposed to talk to him,” Olivia said bluntly the moment Mason walked off. She glared. “Oh, you like him, don’t you? That’s so low, Perenelle, I swear.”

She opened her mouth to protest but failed under the hurt gaze of Emma. Olivia looked mildly smug while Sophia shook her head disapprovingly. Nellie mumbled she was trying to be polite and supported Emma’s endeavors, and picked at her food.

Ava dropped into her seat ten minutes later. She shoveled half her tray into her mouth to make up for the lost time.

“It’s so unfair you missed some of lunch,” Sophia said.

“He wants to meet my family,” Ava said. She drained her milk. “No one else in my homeroom has to have a home visit.” Her mouth twisted. “I can’t think what I said wrong….”

This new revelation hung over the rest of lunch. Nellie could not stop her nerves from twisting her stomach. Emma and Sophia went from being fair-skinned to downright pale.

Nellie took her seat next to Ava in art. She waited for their teacher to pass on her turn around the room. She leaned nearer to the table, pretending to focus on some details.

“Psst, Ava,” Nellie hissed. “Were the questions different?” Ava shook her head. “Did your parents come up?” Ava shook her head again.

The intercom crackled. ‘Miss Campbell’s homeroom, please make your way to the principal’s office,’ Ms. Pelham instructed.

Her legs were lead as she dragged herself from the room and down the hall. Emma and Sophia were already waiting. She held back from joining them.

“Perenelle Herle,” the receptionist called.

One of the boys pretended to barf as she passed by.

The interview was taking place in the lounge. The old, white fridge made a sick rattling. The smell of burnt coffee permeated the area. One of the fluorescents above hummed and subtly flickered.

A short, stout man sat in the only overstuffed chair available. He had crow’s feet around his twinkling blue eyes that deepened as he gave Nellie an easy, welcoming smile. His tan hair was heavily streaked with gray, but it was difficult to say exactly how old he was. Nellie guessed he was at least in his fifties.

“Hello, Perenelle,” he said, his voice raspy and deep. He gestured to the worn loveseat. “Says in your folder that you started here recently. January?”

“Yeah,” Nellie said, sitting on the very edge of the loveseat with her fingers tucked under her thighs. “I lived in Florida before now.”

“Ah, the Sunshine State.” He leaned back in his chair. “Are you nervous, Perenelle?”

“A little.”

He smiled warmly and set his notepad aside. “Do you go by Perenelle, or are you more comfortable with something else?” He laughed lightly at her shrug. “My name is Silas. You can call me that or Mr. Javernick. Whichever is more comfortable for you.”

“My friend told me you were visiting her house,” Nellie said. “Why her?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say, but it isn’t anything worrying,” Silas said. “She’s not in trouble.”

Nellie nodded, feeling a wave of relief. She would have to text Ava later.

The next five minutes was a back and forth on how Nellie liked the school—she did not—and how she found her classes—slow and boring.

“Hmm,” Silas hummed, looking at his notes. “Sounds like you aren't being efficiently challenged.” He tapped his pen against his notepad, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Let’s change topics a minute… Says in your folder you’re a single parent home.”

“Surely I’m not the only kid you’ve met with just one parent,” Nellie said. She went on edge. Silas was visibly uneasy, keeping his focus on his notes.

He took a deep breath and set his notes off to the side. “Your uncle sent me.”

She shot to her feet.

“Perenelle, please, sit,” Silas urged.

“The Regere sent you to spy on me,” Nellie snapped.

“I volunteered,” Silas said. “Penny told me about meeting you.”

“Penny works with the Auctorita! But-but… she didn’t know Morgan. She was so… flippant about the Regere.” She backed towards the door. “It was a trick. Why?”

“Penny doesn’t work for the Auctorita,” Silas said. “I’d like her to, but she won’t. Perenelle, please, calm down. Our time is nearly over. Let me say my piece.”

Nellie glanced to the door. It would be simple to sprint out, screaming. Screaming what, she had no idea. It could just land her in detention. She eased back to the loveseat, sitting on the edge as before.

“Your father and I were acquaintances a decade before he met your mother,” Silas said. “I recommended him as Commander when the Auctorita was formed. That’s why I offered to meet you in your uncle’s stead.”

“I was told he ran off and doesn’t want the Regere near me,” Nellie said.

“Rhys blamed the Regere–.”

“For my mother turning into a dragon,” Nellie finished. “Got it.” She propped her foot up on her knee. “And, what?”

Silas chuckled, shaking his head. “Our time is up,” he said. “I’m going to schedule a home visit, which I’m sure you saw coming. It’s high time I spoke with Nathalie.”

---

Ash bounced after a pair of robins with no intent of catching them. The sun was too low to light the clearing where the house sat. Nellie had been sitting on the steps since telling Nathalie about her meeting with Silas Javernick, staying out of the way as Nathalie rushed to clean the living room and kitchen. She stayed outside even after Silas arrived, straining to listen through the doors but also not wanting to hear anything.

Nellie hugged her knees. She could not imagine what they were talking about for this long. Silas would make a plea for the Regere to see her, Nathalie would shut it down, and that was that.

Ash jumped, poofed, and rematerialized on top of Silas’s boxy car.

“Ash, no,” Nellie said, trying not to laugh. “You’ll scratch it.”

She leapt up as the front door opened behind her. Nathalie frowned at Ash.

“Mr. Javernick wants to speak to both of us now,” Nathalie said. She pointed at Ash. “Beast, get off that car!”

“Ash, down,” Nellie urged.

The smoke wolf stared at them for a long pause. He jumped off more with the air of being bored than obeying.

Silas smiled warmly at her as she shuffled into the house. He moved an inch to give Nathalie extra room as she sat on the couch. They both stared at Nellie. She squirmed.

“Mr. Javernick has informed me that he works for your uncle,” Nathalie said stiffly. “And, that he’s friends with my brother.”

“Friend is a bit strong,” Silas said.

“We talked about this already,” Nellie said warily.

“May I,” Silas asked. He shimmied forward on the couch at Nathalie’s nod. “Nathalie confirmed for me what your uncle, what all of us, suspected; creatures–crypitds–are drawn to you. You sense magic, as Amias related.”

“Which are also things I already know,” Nellie said carefully. “Is something wrong?”

“Nellie,” Nathalie said, a pained expression etched on her face, “you found a dragon. That’s unusual and dangerous even for people like Mr. Baig and Mr. Javernick.” She took on a grayish tint. “Mr. Javernick says that this uncle of yours wants you to stay with him over the summer. Learn how to protect yourself.”

It took a moment for her to wrap her head around what Nathalie was telling her. She crossed her arms tightly, stepping back.

“You’re sending me to him,” Nellie said. “After months of ‘he’s dangerous’ and ‘keep away’.”

“You won’t be with the Regere, per se,” Silas said. He grinned in a way that reminded Nellie of Santa Claus. “I’ve been given the role of babysitter. You’ll be at my compound with Penny and a few other youngsters. I know Master Morgan is begging Evora to come.”

“You’re okay sending me off somewhere for months with some… guy,” Nellie asked, glaring at Nathalie.

“Of course not, Perenelle, but something must be done,” Natahlie said. “That uncle of yours does have a point; finding dragons and other creatures is dangerous. What would’ve happened had Mr. Baig not been there?”

“Or Penny,” Silas added. “Hard to say if she’s downplaying or Amias is exaggerating….”

“Amias and Penny didn’t know each other,” Nellie said, feeling irritated.

“They didn’t until then, and still don’t talk,” Silas said. He looked guiltily at his knitted fingers. “Penny’s mother was a great friend of mine.” He glanced up. “And of your father’s.”

“Penny knew my father?”

“No…” Silas trailed off. “Only Keena did.” He cleared his throat. “Back to topic… My compound is where Penny trained. Prince Ira has spent time there too.”

She knew that name. She could not think how she knew it, but there was something too familiar about it despite the name being unusual. She hurried to her room, grabbed her box of Rhys’s letters, and sat in front of the coffee table facing them.

“Fox?” She shuffled through more of her father’s early letters. “Is that Keena? I swear, I read the name somewhere… I keep seeing mentions of Fox though...”

“Keena Fox,” Silas said. “Your dad always called her Fox. At least that I know of. I thought that was a British thing.”

“For blokes, it’s not uncommon,” Nathalie said. “Rhys defaulted to it. Kept him friendly while keeping up those walls he had.”

Nellie grabbed random words and phrases and she went through the letters. It was more to stop from looking at Nathalie and Silas at this point. She was unsure if she wanted to spend her summer at some compound, but could not deny it was exciting.

That dragon was dangerous. That was undeniable. She shuttered as she remembered how it stared at her, remembered the rank smell of its breath. It would be a smart move to learn how to effectively get away from such a creature, as Penny had.

She gulped, sitting straighter as it dawned on her; she was going to try again. She would go searching for dragons again.

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

I was greeted with the news that my nieces don't have school today, so I guess that's it for a comment.

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December 14, 2025
P.Track.16

Nellie bolted into Nathalie’s wide arms. She squeezed her tight, feeling too safe and warm to pay any heed to Nathalie’s angry, hysterical scolding. She deserved it anyhow.

“How’re you holding up, Mr. Mage,” the young woman asked, unceremoniously half-dropping Amias on the path. “Did that dragon ooze on you?”

“I-I–?”

She grabbed Amias roughly by the shoulders, twisting him here and there like he was a present she was inspecting. She abruptly dropped to a knee, grabbing his leg with force enough he had to grab Nathalie, who in turn grabbed Nellie, to stop from falling over.

“Looks like it got your leg,” she said. She pushed it away as if disgusted. “Luckliy, you were fighting in the stream or you would’ve lost it by now.” She shrugged. “Or died. Maybe both.”

Morgan was staring at this young woman—though Nellie was starting to wonder if she was old enough for the descriptor—with rapt attention. “Who are you,” he asked incredulously.

“Your salvation,” she said snarkily. “Well, come on. You can collect yourselves at my room.”

It was embarrassing to discover that they had been circling between the Gap Cave and the Skylight Cave. It took an hour of stumbling through the dark woods before they saw the welcoming twinkling of Cumberland Gap. The town had a sleepiness to it even though it could not be later than 6PM.

Nellie dragged herself after the young woman, trying to close the distance to question her or thank her. But, she was too tired to keep pace with her brisk strides across the Iron Furnace parking lot.

“Our car–,” Nathalie started weakly, not able to put fight into it.

“Your magic man needs food. You’ll have something to eat first.”

“And I have questions,” Nellie said.

“Of course you do.” She quickened to a trot. “Hurry up. I’m going to feel bad asking for extra if they’ve already made dinner.”

They arrived at a building, or two buildings, that were very old. The smaller was a log construction that was as tall as Nellie’s and Nathalie’s single-story house, except the presence of upper windows let it be known it was two-story. The metal roof butted up against the other building at the halfway divide. This building was truly two-story and old, but not nearly as ancient. The siding was also wood, but not exposed logs. There was a gentle eek-fup, eek-fup, and a gurgling that indicated a water wheel nearby.

“The bed and breakfast,” Morgan whispered to Nellie. “I’ll have pancakes yet.”

Nellie was first in behind their mysterious rescuer. She shuffled awkwardly to make room for the other, feeling very much like she entered a stranger’s house without permission. She was distracted away from looking over the decor by a woman older than Nathalie bustling over to meet them.

“I found lost hikers,” the young woman explained. “Think they could eat something before I take them to their car?”

“Pancakes,” Morgan chimed.

“That shouldn’t be much trouble,” the old woman said, eyeing them.

“Thanks; I’ll bring them to my room for now.”

The four of them–prompting in Morgan’s case–muttered their thanks to the woman as they passed.

The room had a clear theme: sunflowers. The bedspread was bright yellow to match the large painting of a sunflower field that hung over the bed. There was a sunflower embroidered pillow on a blue, wing-backed chair. A sunflower footstool nearby.

Their rescuer was young, easily being college-aged like Ira. She had brunette hair that brushed the tops of her shoulder, and wore half braided back to keep it from her face (presumably not fully braided to keep her neck warm). She struggled to unlace heavy leather boots that went up her calves, kicking them off next to the footstool before dropping in the blue chair. Her striking green eyes went to each of them before settling on Nellie.

“Go ahead.”

“Um… I don’t–?”

“Questions. Ask them. Pancakes don’t take long.”

Nellie’s cheeks tinted. She could feel everyone staring. She fidgeted with her jacket zipper.

“I’ll give it a start,” Amias said. “Thank you, young lady, for swooping in when you did.”

“Heard her screaming bloody murder,” she said, pointing flippantly at Nathalie. “Thought maybe a bear was being naughty. Then he,” she pointed to Morgan, “started yelling about dragons.” She snickered. “Then the calls for Ira.” She set her gaze on Nellie again. “Are you Nellie?”

“Y-yes,” Nellie stammered. “How–?”

“How many people know Ira and get caught up with dragons?”

“You’re… Penny,” Nellie said carefully.

“I am.”

“Ira’s girlfriend,” Nathalie said, unsurely.

Penny’s face darkened. “Is that what he’s saying,” she growled. “I’ll murder him!”

A knock at the door interrupted them. Penny shot up, put her hand on her belt–which was full of small pouches and sleeves that suspiciously looked to house knives–and opened the door a crack. Then wider to show the rest of the room to the old woman.

“Pancakes are on the table,” she said, craning to see where each person was in the cozy room.

“Thanks,” Penny said. “I’ll bring them down shortly.”

She dropped next to the bed, lying on her stomach.

“Forgive me, young lady,” Amias said, watching her with bemusement. “How is it that you are… acquainted with his highness? You sound American.”

“I am American,” Penny said, straightened with a pair of slippers in her hand. She pointed a slipper at Nellie. “So’s she, and I don’t hear you questioning her.”

“Am I American,” Morgan mused.

“Seems like you’re outnumbered, Mr. Mage. And we have home field advantage.” She jumped to her slippered feet. “Let’s get you fed and out of here.”

Nellie trotted after Penny with Morgan elbowing her to give him the lead. She could tell her pants were not regular jeans. They looked too heavy, the color too dark. She swayed slightly trying to see if they had tinplate woven in like Ira’s coat, but failed to see any metallic sheen. Her drab colored shirt had none that she saw, but it did have defined wrinkles on the otherwise loose sleeves as if they were normally bound in long gloves or braces.

“Should we call the Order of Ferblanc about the dragon,” Nellie asked in a low tone.

“Those snobs? Oh, right, you’ve met Ira,” Penny said, visibly rolling her eyes. “That’s not really their job. They're more around to keep people like him,” she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder at Amias, “in check if they go nuts on the population. More than happy to jump to if Ira calls though.”

“I don’t have a number for the Keepers….”

“They’re like that,” Penny said. “There’s a Conservatory not far. I can check in with them sometime tomorrow afternoon. I should be able to keep her in check until then.”

Penny led them to a long dining table. Plates set with pancakes were upon it. There was a jug of milk, a jug of ice water, and a small jug of syrup. Bowls with strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, and sugar sat in the middle of the four plates next to two cans of whipped cream.

Morgan hastily took the nearest seat and started heaping butter, fruits, syrup, and cream onto his pancakes. Nellie sat next to him, crinkling her nose at his efforts to get the large bites into his mouth. She chose to eat the fruit on the side like Nathalie and Amias, but helped herself to the whipped cream.

“Pardon for bringing this up,” Amias said, speaking quietly as the old woman walked the edges of the room. “You seem under the impression you can handle this… animal.”

“And you seem unable to grasp that you’re alive because I can,” Penny said loftily. She plopped a strawberry into her mouth. “I can’t take her down alone. I’m not stupid. But, I can’t irritate her enough to get her to back off.”

“Her,” Nathalie asked tentatively, as if not sure she really wanted to know.

“Ira and me figured all dragons are female,” Penny said, nonchalant. She waved dismissively. “Just our running theory seeing as our mothers both turned.”

“Yours too!” Nellie shrunk as the old woman whipped her head towards them. “Sorry,” she added, lowering her voice. “Yours too?”

“And yours, from what Ira told me.”

Amias narrowed her eyes at Penny. “Three women all curse, for lack of understanding. I was unaware there were so many.”

“Who’s your mother,” Morgan asked. He searched his syrup puddle for soggy chunks he missed. “Does she work for my father too?”

“Who is…?”

Morgan straightened as if smacked. “You don’t know my father,” he asked. He bristled. “The Regere of the Auctorita.”

“Oh, him,” Penny said. “No, she’s got nothing to do with him. She was more… freelance, I guess you could call it. Wait, shh.” She straightened, smiling a wide, forced smile. “Hey.”

“Good evening, Miss Penny,” a young man greeted enthusiastically. A pretty, young lady with a blonde bob hung on his arm. “The missus was hoping we could get that picture with Hodge tomorrow morning.”

“You said this morning he was too tired and to ask later,” his wife piped up. “If he’s up for it….”

“Oh, sure,” Penny said with forced politeness. “I was going to shoot some tomorrow, so he’ll be all done up.”

“Can–can he wear some flowers,” the wife asked hopefully. “I have my second bouquet still from our solo pictures.”

“Sure,” Penny said, her smile starting to look uncomfortable. “I can add them last. You can help.”

“Oh my goodness, really! Thank you so much! I’m such a huge fan! He’s so, so, magical, and whimsical, and–.”

“Okay, honey, let’s leave Miss Penny to her company,” the husband said. He smiled happily. “Thanks so much. You’ve made our honeymoon extra special.”

Nellie felt compelled to wave as the newlyweds retreated towards the stairs. She rounded on Penny, leaning over the table and keeping her eyes watching for further interruptions. “Hodge?”

“My unicorn,” Penny said, not bothering to say it quietly.

Nellie’s jaw dropped. “U-unicorn?”

Penny pulled out her phone. She tapped and swiped, and held it up for Nellie (and Morgan, leaning in) to see.

The Instagram was full of tiles featuring a gorgeous white stallion with a long, white mane and shimmering, golden dapples. In the center of his forehead, splitting his forelock, was a long, spiral horn that started black and ended red at the tip. He had large, expressive brown eyes that looked far more intelligent than those of a regular horse.

She tapped one of the photos. This one had Hodge laying with his cloven feet curled into his body. His lion-like tail was tied with a red ribbon to match the ribbons braided into his mane. His small goatee had a little curl styled on the end. Roses were strewn about and a graphic stamped on the picture wished people a Happy St. Valentine’s Day.

“This was one of my favorites,” Penny said fondly. “He’s so handsome in red.”

“It really is a unicorn,” Nathalie said weakly, glancing over.

“You post this creature online,” Amias asked, his brows furrowed.

“Why not,” Penny asked, clicking her phone off. “It’s not like people think he’s a real unicorn. He makes bank on social media. All I need to do is keep my photography skills up, and we’re set.”

The old woman inched away from her wall, approaching with a kind smile and opportunistic eyes. “It’s rather late,” she said. “We do have rooms available.”

“We really can’t,” Nathalie said before either Morgan or Nellie could speak. “The pancakes were very good. I’ll gladly pay for the lot.”

“Put it on my room,” Penny said. She stood. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Nellie felt overwhelm rise in her chest as everyone climbed to their feet. There were far too many things to ask Penny, or just to simply talk over. It was clear that Nathalie would not budge on leaving that moment, and Amias would very well back her up with how they have come to some sort of understanding. She hurried after Penny, away from the proprietor and the spare other guests coming to sit in the comfortable chairs scattered about.

“Wait,” Nellie pleaded.

“Yes, you can meet Hodge,” Penny said.

“Cool, but I wanted to ask about,” Nellie lowered her voice, “Ira. Is he okay? Is he here?”

“His daddy has him working,” Penny said with a bite. “He keeps his phone off when that happens.”

There was a small park across from the bed and breakfast, with a single line of parking off the street. There was only one vehicle present; an old, red pickup truck with a shiny, new horse trailer attached to the hitch. It was not a large trailer or large truck, but the combination took up nearly half of the parking spaces.

Hodge was more beautiful in person despite being half-asleep in a dark trailer. The weak streetlight that managed to penetrate the trailer caught his dappled fur, making him look like he sparkled with golden moonlit.

He raised his head, his eyes fluttering. He snorted angrily and threw his weight against the trailer.

“Ssh, Hodge,” Penny cooed. “I’ll get rid of them.” She waved a hand at Amias and Morgan. “Give him more space. He dislikes men.” She looked at Nathalie. “And… if you could step away a bit too. He won’t be outright aggressive, but the whole maiden thing with unicorns is very real.”

Nellie hesitated as they arrived at the Crown Victoria. Ira was accounted for, in an unsatisfactory way. That was the main reason she wanted to find the Cumberland dragon, finding the dragon was a bonus. If such a terrifying event could be called that. She accomplished what she meant, and even got to see a real unicorn. Even still, she could not open the door.

“Nellie,” Penny said, starting her back to attention. She handed her phone over. “Put your number in. We’re keeping in touch.”

---

Nellie thought that once Amias took Morgan back, that life would slip back to the doldrum as it had after Ira left. That was far from the case.

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The lore with the Cumberland dragon is that it oozes this blood red junk that'll kill you if you don't submerge it in water. Apparently, the native tribes retold that bit of info to the calverymen that found the dragon. The dragon is also called 'goosefoot' because of the tracks (I forgot to say that in the 15th chapter).

Penny intro! Ira, Penny, and Morgan were the characters most needed to be infroduced in this, and now they all are. I liked the idea of Penny posting Hodge all over Instagram while everyone else in the Realm is all 'we should keep things hush-hush because panic'.

I couldn't fit it because of the clunkiness, but since Hodge is hostile to men, disgruntled by boys, and wary of non-virgin females, then his whole photoshoot with that bride is problematic. And when the photoshoot is problematic and Penny can't detter the fan any longer, then she says something about him being skittish/tempermental, and holds a halter on him to keep him more calm. Which is how she's recognized because she's in way more of Hodge's pictures than she would like.

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