Firebrand Risk
P.Track.3
August 19, 2025

The fluorescent lights gave off a dull buzzing as they glared harshly from the ceiling. The office was made up of a glass wall set to Nellie’s back to give a more open, inviting feel, but for her all she felt was everyone staring. She sat on her fingers, dragging her suede shoes back and forth on the cheap, stubbly carpet. Nathalie had made her wear her Christmas dress to the meeting with the principal, and the green tartan frock with gold metallic threads could not have been anymore out of place.

The principal–Ms. Pelham–wore a graphic t-shirt that had the logo obscured by a too-tight turquoise blazer that matched her pants. Her jaw-length hair was composed of tight, neat twists that were not uniformly black, suggesting she was older than she tried to come across. She leaned back in her chair, swiveling side to side in a manner that came across as her trying to mimic a teenager bored with life. Her office decor was littered with random pop culture figures and memes from office based sitcoms from two plus decades ago.

“You understand what a serious crime lying like this is,” Ms. Pelham said, waving a red pen flippantly.

“Crime is an exaggeration,” Nathalie said. She put her hand on Nellie’s shoulder. “She’s new and upset. She’s acting as a child, as any twelve-year-old would.”

“Ms. Herle, you’re making my job harder undermining my discipline,” Ms. Pelham stated. She peered at Nellie. “Miss Campbell said you were disruptive long before you starting lying and playing hooky. You want to tell your mom about you screaming in gym?”

It took a moment for Nellie to remember what Ms. Pelham could be referring to. She looked her over to see if she was teasing, but the tight line of her mouth indicated she was serious. “I… I didn’t yell. I simply said it was snowing….” She squirmed, setting her blue eyes on her knees. “I suppose I could have raised my voice–.”

“What is this nonsense,” Nathalie snapped, her fingers digging into Nellie’s shoulder. “Perenelle came to apologize for the worry she caused with her questions and failing to attend class. She’s done that.”

“Ms. Herle, will you calm–.”

Nathalie launched to her feet, yanking Nellie up. “Perhaps you misunderstood. Nellie apologized. That’s the end of this meeting unless you wish to call forth this Miss Campbell and have Nellie apologize to her directly.” She glared. “Although, with what I’ve been hearing about her, she may need to apologize instead.”

Ms. Pelham climbed to her feet, leaning heavily on her hands to stare down Nathalie. “Our teachers have our full support. If your daughter has been making trouble–.”

“Oh, apologies, I had no inclination that a child from the sub-tropics being excited to see snow was an issue,” Nathalie said scathingly. She held Nellie to her side. “I know my daughter, and she doesn’t scream willy-nilly, nor does she fabricate lies of the magnitude you accuse! Her asking simple questions related to a topic her classmates were learning about should not result in this witchhunt!” Nathalie wrenched open the door and shoved Nellie through. “Perenelle, we’re going home. You will start school here Monday. That’ll give Uncle Winston ample time to look over the curriculum and assess if it serves anyone.” She gave one last look at Ms. Pelham. “Winston Herle. Google him, if you dare.”

Nellie did not to speak to Nathalie as she followed her out to the Crown Victoria. She had not spoken to her since she stated she knew they were not mother and daughter last night. There were too many questions she needed answered, and she had no idea which to start with.

Uncle Winston–and by extension her grandparents and Aunt Margret–had helped Nathalie lie to her, covered everything up. That did not change just because Nathalie stood up for her; her deep dread of something being wrong was still there.

“Buckle in, please,” Nathalie instructed, starting the engine. She blew into her hands before taking the wheel. “It is quite bitter out, is it not?”

Nellie nodded and wrapped her coat tighter around herself. She sniffed, rubbing her nose and then her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Shall we go to Murfreesboro to attempt to find a new Pyrex?” Nathalie’s forced smile faded. She leaned her head against the headrest with a deep sigh. “Nellie… I should have told you.”

Nellie whipped towards her. “Oh god, it’s true!”

“Wha–? Yes, of course it is. I thought that much was understood.” Nathalie groaned. “They need instruction books for this.”

“I’m confident there are dozens,” Nellie said blandly. “TV shows and movies too.”

“Yes, okay, point made,” Nathalie said.

They fell into a tense silence, so Nathalie backed up the car and began driving. Nellie was content ignoring her. She wanted to get back to Ash. She still needed a water bowl for him, and he had not been fed that morning with her not wanting to leave her room and see Nathalie sooner than needed. He was probably howling his eerie howl, scaring away all wildlife.

Nellie’s head turned as they passed their road. “What are you doing?”

“I said we’re going to Murfreesboro,” Nathalie said.

“What about Ash,” Nellie asked, irate. “He hasn’t been out today, or eaten, or… or anything!”

“He can wait a tad longer, surely,” Nathalie said.

“Isn’t Murfreesboro far,” Nellie asked. “I don’t want to be out all day. It isn’t fair to him.”

“Would you rather I left you at school,” Nathalie said sternly. She tightened her grip on the wheel. “I have the internet coming this afternoon. We’ll be back for that.” She smiled weakly. “You’ll need to buy that thing food and such. I can’t very well be raiding the meat station at the Piggly Wiggly to feed him.”

“Really,” Nellie said, her face lighting up. “Ash can stay?” She gave a squeal, reaching to hug or pat Nathalie’s arm. “Thanks, M–.” She sucked in her word, and recoiled. She curled in her seat and turned to the window. “Thanks….”

Ash being allowed to stay felt more like a bribe than Nathalie doing something nice for her. She had still be referred to as her daughter during the tirade against Ms. Pelham, and she had been strongly advised on the short drive to that apology to not say anything other than sorry. It conjured dark thoughts regarding her adoption, such as it not being legal.

They were passing through downtown Shelbyville before either of them said anything, and it had been Nathalie that broke the silence pointing out a sign for Route 64, saying that was another road that would take you to Bell Buckle via Wartrace.

“Nothing in Wartrace whatsoever when I was last here,” Nathalie said. “It was nearest to Webb though, so my friends and I would visit just to walk about. The Webb School has a lovely campus, but there were times you just wanted to explore a bit.” There was a strained pause. “Of course, Route 82 is the direct road. We’ll pass that shortly. It even changes name to Webb–.”

“Enough with the directions,” Nellie hissed.

“Then talk to me,” Nathalie said.

“Am I kidnapped,” Nellie asked bluntly. She cringed as Nathalie’s eyes widened, but her shoulders relaxed when that surprise was replaced by laughter. She laughed a little, soon they were both roaring with crying laughter. Luckily, there was a stop light that was red that gave them–mostly Nathalie–a moment to gather themselves.

“Oh, Nellie,” Nathalie said, dragging her fingertips over her eyes. “No, no, absolutely not.” She suppressed a laugh before it could grip her. “I don’t know how that would work, to be honest with you. I did hear a podcast about children stolen and raised by their capturers, and I was so confused how it worked. What about grandparents? Do they just–?”

The car behind the blared its horn. Nathalie waved and started driving again, muttering curses under her breath.

Nellie exhaled, feeling warmer somehow with that one question answered. She did not feel the need to push to be positive Nathalie was telling her the truth; she knew she was. She had not really believed Nathalie, or her extended family, capable of kidnapping a baby.

“Is my name really Perenelle,” Nellie asked, frowning.

“Yes, of course it is,” Nathalie said.

“No, I mean, was I born with that name, or did you name me,” Nellie clarified.

“Oh, no, I didn’t name you,” Nathalie said. “I certainly wouldn’t have called you Perenelle if I had. It’s pretty, but not to my taste.”

“What would you’ve called me then?”

“I’m particularly fond of Lillian, but Uncle Winston gave that to his eldest, so that was out,” Nathalie said. “I suppose I’m glad it’s just being used.”

Nellie sniggered. “You told Ms. Pelham to Google Uncle Winston!”

“Yes… rather embarrassing now that my temper has ebbed,” Nathalie said, tinting pink. She perked up. “But, seeing your uncle is a respected barrister should keep her, and your foul teachers, from picking on you. Oh, look, there’s Route 82!”

“Uncle Winston knows I’m adopted,” Nellie said, making sure Nathalie heard it was a statement and not a question.

“I’ll have to try calling him while we’re out,” Nathalie mused. “I hate bothering him while he’s at work…. He may come for a visit if I beg.”

The ease and warmness that had been replacing Nellie’s anxiety and tension was slipping away. Nathalie was antsy and was calling on her big brother. Nellie believed she was not a kidnapped child–she felt dumb for it crossing her mind–but something was still off. Uncle Winston had some role outside of being Nathalie’s crutch.

“Did Uncle Winston give me to you,” Nellie asked. She paled. “Is he a kidnapper?”

“You’re awfully focused on kidnapping,” Nathalie said. “But, no, Nellie. Dear Winny is not a kidnapper. Man can’t even match his tie to his suit despite that being his outfit for near four decades. Thank god Margo has fashion sense.” She pursed her lips, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “I don’t want you to think ill of your uncle. He wanted what was in your best interests.”

“Which was…?”

“He didn’t want me to raise you,” Nathalie said delicately. Very hastily she added, “As I said, he was thinking of your best interests. He wasn’t being a villain. He’s quite glad I have now.”

“He had a say in you adopting me,” Nellie asked.

“In… setting up your legal guardianship, yes,” Nathalie said carefully. “He reached out to friends to get all the paperwork sorted.”

A pit formed in Nellie’s stomach. Nathalie was nervous around the adoption talk, and she had pointedly not used the term now. The shock and hurt last night when Nellie told her she was not her mother flooded back into her mind. Her mouth went dry.

“...I’m not adopted, am I,” Nellie asked in a whisper. She flinched at Nathalie’s nod, both now just watching from the corners of their eyes. “How… has that been working? I get that you could just lie and say my name is Perenelle Herle, but don’t they need a legal name for schools and doctors and stuff?”

“Perenelle Herle is your legal name,” Nathalie said. She turned the car into the Avenues shopping center. “Shall we park near the bookstore? Perhaps a croissant and hot chocolate to go with the rest of this conversation?”

“And a public place to keep me from flipping out,” Nellie stated coolly.

“You’re twelve,” Nathalie said. “If you act up, people look at me, not at you.” She turned off the car. “I’m much more at risk to cause a scene. Don’t you fret.”

Nellie crossed her arms tight against the winter wind as she stepped out of the Crown Victoria. She shivered, rubbing her stockinged knees together as she waited for Nathalie to lock, and check it was locked, the car. She wished she had been allowed to go home and change into jeans.

She plopped herself at a small, rickety table for two in the overly crowded with things cafe corner while Nathalie ordered. People seemed to order their drink and peruse the shelves rather than sit and chat with each other, but it was a bookstore and not an actual cafe.

Nathalie sat opposite her and tried three times to get her purse to stay on the back of the curbed chair before setting it at her feet. “Hope the floor isn’t sticky. I ordered you a medium. I thought with this unfamiliar cold it’d help.”

“Uncle Winston wouldn’t have had an affair… right,” Nellie asked, cringing.

Nathalie laughed, and quickly covered her mouth to stifle the sound. “Winny, cheat on Margo!” She patted Nellie’s hand. “I’m so sorry to laugh.”

“No, it’s fine,” Nellie said, turning red and trying hard not to smile. “He’s too obsessed with Aunt Margaret.”

“Devoted is the polite term,” Nathalie scolded. She frowned. “Well, commissioning a chocolatiere to carve her face into a mountain of chocolate to celebrate her promotion did seem a tad obsessive….” She gave Nellie a sad, warm smile. “You are a bright girl, though, Nellie.”

“For Nathalie!”

She offered up a smile to Nathalie as she left the table for their drinks. Uncle Winston and her grandfather were the only men that she knew that had Herle as their name. Other than her cousin Geoffrey, but he was only twenty-four and hardly counted as a man.

She stared at the shiny black table, unseeingly. That was not completely right. There was another name, but it eluded her. She had heard it recently, and recognized immediately who it was, but that name was said so little he was easy to forget. It reminded her of chocolate for some reason.

“Of course they misspelled my name,” Nathalie said, sliding Nellie her hot chocolate. “They always leave out the ‘h’.” She rolled her blue eyes.

“Did you tell her it had an ‘h’?”

“Of course not,” Nathalie said. “That’s too pretentious.” She removed the lid of her latte to allow it to cool quicker.

Nellie waited for Nathalie to resume the conversation. She tapped her toe as the seconds ticked. “Are you and me related?”

Nathalie wrapped her fingers around her paper cup. She nodded. “I’m your paternal aunt. Your father is my younger brother.”

“The estranged one?”

“I do only have the two brothers, so yes, the estranged one,” Nathalie said. She stared into the milk froth. “Rhys.”

That was the name. Like peanut butter cups, and she had heard it as often as she had eaten those overly sugary confections. It was difficult to put a face with the name. She had seen a photo of Nathalie with her brothers at her grandparents’ house, but Uncle Winston had been a teenager which put Nathalie barely in double digits and Rhys even younger. He had flaxen curls reminiscent of cherubim in that picture.

It now made sense why Nathalie always insisted her father was a good man despite him running out on her. There was a relief in knowing she was still connected to her grandparents, Uncle Winston, and Nathalie.

“Is there anything you wish to know about him,” Nathalie offered with a small smile. “I have loads of embarrassing stories from when he was a boy.”

“Why is he estranged,” Nellie asked. “Was it because…?” Her eyes fell from Nathalie to her hot chocolate.

“Was it because he left you,” Nathalie finished. “No, Nellie, it had nothing to do with you. Hey, look at me.” She gave her a firm look and a warm smile. “It was not your fault. Not in the least.”

Nellie nodded hastily, taking a shaky breath and gulping at her still too-hot drink. The discomfort in her mouth chased away the prickling in her eyes. It was at least not hot enough to burn her tongue. That would have been worse than tearing up in public.

“Rhys was,” Nathalie frowned, lips pursed, “different, for lack of a better suited word. He instinctively knew… something. I can’t say what since I am so dreadfully normal. But, there was something he could see or feel, or,” she sighed in mild aggravation, “something. It drove him.”

“Crazy,” Nellie asked, eyes wide.

“What, no,” Nathalie said, laughing. “I meant it gave him motivation and focus. He received top marks in school. He had dozens of internship offers, which he turned down.” Nathalie took a sip of her latte, still staring into the dissipating foam. “He disappeared once he finished up sixth form, and I, all of us really, got the distinct impression he would have done so as soon as he finished his GCSE exams two years early, but he didn’t want to cause us alarm.” She shrugged sadly. “Or it was due to more barriers for being on your own at sixteen than at eighteen, but I like to believe it was because he struggled with leaving.”

There was much to ponder over. Her mom was really her aunt, and the father that walked out on her was her mom’s younger brother. It was nearly worthy of those daytime talk shows back in the 90s that people still memed on. It did sound like she could blame Rhys for her own oddness, although Nathalie had not mentioned cryptids. It was still an oddity to see them, interact with them, and have them frequent life as they did.

A comment Nathalie had made caused Nellie confusion. “Why didn’t Uncle Winston want you to raise me? Was he going to do it?”

“No…,” Nathalie murmured. She drained her paper cup and picked at the cardboard sleeve. “He worried.”

Nellie waited for elaboration. She frowned as the seconds lengthened. “Worried about?”

“You. Me. My mental health. Your overall wellbeing.” She took a deep breath, putting her eyes on Nellie. “I didn’t intentionally set myself up as your mother, not at first. People assumed, and you had such trouble with my long name, that eventually I just… let the assumption turn into our reality. Winston worried I was blurring the line. Rightfully so, since that is precisely what happened and look at us now.” She glanced away. “But there was….” She swirled her cup, disappointed at the lack of coffee to distract. “You once asked why you were an only child.”

“You said because you were too old,” Nellie said. She giggled at Nathalie’s narrowed eyes. “You said it, not me!”

“Yes, but you could’ve pretended you’d forgotten,” Nathalie said. Her teasing smile waned. “It was half the truth. I was near forty when I came to care for you, but I never had any chance prior for children either. And I so desperately wanted them.” She laughed, tinting pink. “Too desperately for any boyfriend in my earliest adult days.”

“You couldn’t have kids,” Nellie asked.

“I had the misfortune of being diagnosed with ovarian cancer at twenty-two,” Nathalie said. “Once the relief and joy of beating that wore off, I spiraled. For years. Rhys was gone at this point, so he was not there to bear witness as Winny was. Your dear uncle was terrified I’d turn into one of those overbearing women that couldn’t fathom life without you, refusing to let you grow up at all costs.”

Nellie gasped, “Like that one story on that podcast!”

“I may need to be more careful about you overhearing these….” She reached over and squeezed Nellie’s fingers. “I was wrong to step in as your mother, and keep the truth from you. Nothing I’ve said is easily digestible, so you take what time you need to process it. I’ll answer whatever questions you have that I can answer from now on.”

“Where was I supposed to go if Uncle Winston didn’t want me and didn’t want you raising me,” Nellie asked.

“Just full steam ahead,” Nathalie said. She hummed. “I’m not quite sure. I was embarrassingly erratic during these conversations. I believe he tossed out having you privately adopted, but it was a mere suggestion from a panicking man.”

“Do Nana and Granddad know any of this,” Nellie asked.

“I… actually have no idea,” Nathalie said at a loss. “I never made any mention to them, but I wonder if Winston has. I’ll have to ask.”

Nathalie continued musing to herself about how informed her parents may be while Nellie allowed herself room to turn over this landslide of information. Her mom–her aunt–had cancer, and it sounded as if her life fell to ruin in the aftermath of beating it. This younger brother–her biological father–dropped her on her doorstep after vanishing without a trace. The photograph Nellie remembered suggested Nathalie and Rhys were five years apart at the absolute maximum, putting the silence between Rhys and his family at nearly twenty years. She suddenly felt the sadness over Uncle Winston turning her away ebbing into understanding. Upstanding Uncle Winston might not have been positive his derelict baby brother had not kidnapped her from someone.

Nellie smiled ruefully. This family had been upended all due to Rhys being weird. She would need to curb the oddity she inherited or else bring more strain and tragedy.

“I’ll toss your cup if you’ve finished,” Nathalie offered, interrupting Nellie’s thoughts. “We should hurry with our shopping and head home.”

“Ash must be starving,” Nellie said, handing her cup over.

“Oh, yes, Ash,” Nathalie said flatly. “Nearly forgot about that thing. Perhaps just a trip to the pet supplies. I can always order a Pyrex online once the internet is connected.”

They opted to drive to the other end of the shopping center with them both shivering the moment they set foot outside. Nellie thought out loud on what she would need to make Ash comfortable. Nathalie argued against buying him a bed, a collar, and the human grade food advertised all over the place, strongly stressing he was not a pet. Nellie was able to convince Nathalie to buy the expensive grain-free food with that same argument. They left the store with a giant bag of food featuring wolves, a large ceramic bowl with a bone pattern, and a stuffingless toy meant to resemble a red fox that Nellie insisted would help curb his destructive tendencies.

Nellie studied the toy as they started the drive back to the house. Picking things out for Ash had been a nice distraction, but now her head was spinning over the conversation in the cafe again. There was so much she did not know, or wanted clarification on, and trying to single in on one thing to break the increasingly long silence was daunting.

“Um…,” Nellie said, hastily looking at the toy she held when Nathalie’s eyes darted her way. “What about…?” She stuffed the toy back in the bag with a sharp squeak. “What about lunch? Do we have time before the internet or no?”

A smile played on Nathalie’s lips, but the strained expression on her face let Nellie know she was aware this was not what Nellie wanted to ask. Nellie was glad she did not push. She was not sure either of them were rested enough to tackle the questions around who her mother was.

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

Nathalie's side is her parents ('Nana' and 'Granddad'), her 5-7 years older brother Wintson, a sister-in-law Margaret (Margo), a niece around 26-28 Lillian (and she's either recently engaged or has a long term boyfriend), a 24yo nephew Geoffrey, and then a 3-5 years younger brother Rhys who is Nellie's biological father. I think I messed up on ages all around though, because I said Nellie is 12, but I think she's actually 11 and turning 12 in two months. I should've checked the first chapter (I think I also said Nathalie had short hair in the first chapter but then I had her have it up in a messy bun in the 2nd).

Murfreesboro is an hour from what would be Nellie's middle school/the house. It's the shopping center I go to when I do the shopping center streams. There is no place there to buy a Pyrex, so Nathalie would need to buy it online anyway, lol. Also, with her name, I don't particularly care for the name 'Natalie' but I like it better spelled the French way with the 'h' in it. Originally, Nathalie and her siblings were going to have literary names. Nathalie for Nathanial Hawthorn and Rhys was going to be Rudyard for Rudyard Kipling, so I kept the 'h' for her name to better relate. Winston was 'unnamed older brother' and I though maybe they'd have a yonger sister too, but the sister was scrapped before any form and Winston wasn't named until after I decided I wanted traditional names. Nathalie having a serious medical something or another that derailed her life was always a thing though.

All the surnames I'm using for random town people and school people I get from the white pages for Shelbyville and Lynchburg. (Herle was picked specifically so I could write that scene with kids pretending to throw up as a way to tease Nellie.)

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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.

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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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