Firebrand Risk
P.Track.9
October 30, 2025

Nellie clutched her backpack to her chest, her heart pounding as if it was the first day of school all over again. She shuffled through the crowd of kids to her locker, pausing after each number on her lock to remember the next one. There was a small relief when the lock opened.

Nathalie insisted that Ira stay the night with them, but he was too tired and busy setting up his arrangements home to talk much. Nellie fell asleep before she learned what the plans were, and he was still asleep when she left for school that morning. She hoped they would get a few minutes.

“Perenelle!”

Ava, Olivia, Sophia, and Emma boxed her in on all sides. They wore various expressions of disgruntled, annoyed, and minor concern.

“You missed school yesterday,” Ava said.

“OMG, we didn’t know what to think,” the possible Emma said. “We had this plan to all meet at the car rider lane after, and you just never even showed up to homeroom.”

“Please, please, please tell me that college guy is picking you up,” the suspected Sophia whined.

“I don’t know,” Nellie said glumly. “He’s supposed to leave today, but I don’t know when.”

The bell to get to homeroom sounded. Two of the girls she was not certain the names of headed to Miss Campbell’s room with her. She took her seat near the back while they sat side-by-side up front. She listened attentively to Miss Campbell calling attendance, learning that homeroom was shared with blonde Emma and  pig-tailed Sophia. That left curly-haired Olivia as the one who wandered off with bespectacled Ava

“Perenelle Herle,” Miss Campbell said, both bored and angry.

“Here.”

“Really,” Miss Campbell said, squinting at her through her thick frames. “How surprising. Should I just go ahead and mark you absent tomorrow?”

Nellie felt her face burn as she murmured and shrunk into her seat. She kept her head down for the rest of homeroom but found her following teachers just as disgruntled with her attendance, voicing it for all the kids to hear and inciting snickers and stares.

Her phone loudly sounded out a few cheerful boops, interrupting the math class. The teacher angrily stormed down the aisle at her as she hastily extracted her phone.

“Phone,” he demanded, holding out his hand.

“S-sorry, I forgot to–,” Nellie said shakily.

“Phone!”

She hesitantly held out her booping phone, flinching as the teacher snatched it away. She slid down in her seat as the teacher answered the video call.

“You are interrupting–.”

How dare you answer my niece’s phone, you insolent, little man,’ Uncle Winston’s voice came angrily. ‘Her gran has died. Put her on immediately!’

“Ex-excuse–!”

‘I shall be calling the school board over this,’ Uncle Winston said. ‘Put Perenelle on!’

Nellie stood, grabbed the phone and her stuff, and bolted into the hall. Tears were running down her lightly freckled cheeks, she was sniffing heartily to stop any snot from joining in.

“N-Nana–,” Nellie started.

‘Nana is fit as a fiddle, sweatpea,’ Uncle Winston said hastily. ‘I fibbed to get your phone back. So sorry for the call. I thought it was your lunch hour.’

“Uncle Winston,” Nellie fumed.

Sincerest apologies, lovey, truly,’ Uncle Winston stressed. ‘I’m heading home and I thought we’d squeeze in our chat. Margo isn’t here to distract us away.’

It took a moment for her to remember that she had asked Uncle Winston yesterday morning if her mother’s family wanted her. Finding Cecily and Ira being injured by the white screamer had driven it into the back of her mind.

Nellie paled as her conversation with Ira immediately prior to finding Cecily flitted into her mind.

Perhaps we should try tomorrow,’ Uncle Winston said, frowning at her reaction. ‘I’ll send word to your school to mitigate the trouble I've caused.’

“No, no, it’s fine,” Nellie said quickly. “Lunch starts in ten minutes. I can talk.”

She wiped her eyes as she wandered about to find a quiet area where the video did not stutter. She slid down the slick, whitewashed cinderblock wall to the cold floor. The winter sun poured through the window over her head, creating a warm haze.

“Did my mother’s family want me,” Nellie asked.

Your uncle did,’ Uncle Winston said. ‘Your mother’s younger brother. I became aware that there is an older brother. And older sister.’

“I have another aunt and uncle,” Nellie said.

You do,’ Uncle Winston said. ‘I don’t know how well their relationship with your mother was. They’re from your maternal grandfather’s first marriage, and much older. Teenagers when your mother came about from my guess.’

“And… this aunt and this uncle didn’t want me,” Nellie asked.

No,’ Uncle Winston said plainly. ‘They were most difficult to contact. They showed little interest in the fact you existed and that some tragedy befell your mother. Claimed they were too busy with their families and careers.’

Uncle Winston was not mincing words. It stung, but not much nor for more than a second. Nellie did not know these people. It sounded like they cared nothing for their younger sister. It was good they did not want her. They sounded worse than dealing with the teachers at this school.

The Regere wanted her.

Still with me, sweatpea,’ Uncle Winston asked.

“My other uncle, the younger brother, he did want me,” Nellie said. “Why didn’t he get me? Why wasn’t there some sort of contact, or joint custody thing, or however that works?”

‘Rhys was adamant that he have no contact, and so we built the case for Nathalie to have soul guardianship. His arguments for retaining you were too weak. The win was easy enough, even with your maternal grandparents arguing on his behalf.’ Uncle Winston chuckled. ‘He called them in. They were so wary of him that it likely hurt him more than helped.’

Ira mentioned the Regere was powerful but could not claim he was a dangerous man. His parents treating him with caution went back to the idea that he was someone dangerous.

“What arguments did he have,” Nellie asked.

‘Playmate for his son,’ Uncle Winston said. ‘As stated, quite weak. Buy the boy a puppy.

“I have another cousin,” Nellie asked.

‘Several,’ Uncle Winston said. ‘But this boy is the only your age.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘So sorry Lillian and Geoffrey are so much older. Holidays must’ve been so dull. Oh, speaking of Lillian, her beau finally got the greenlight to meet with me to ask for her hand. He called the office to schedule a lunch meeting with me next week. Isn’t that quaint?’

“He’s meeting you to ask to marry her when she told him to meet with you and ask,” Nellie asked unsurely. “Doesn’t that mean she already knows he’s going to ask?”

Yes, but he’s wanted to marry her for the last year, but she was waiting for her promotion to go through first,’ Uncle Winston said. ‘You’ll meet him properly at Christmas. Nat is sure to drag you across the pond with this news.’ The phone jostled as he disconnected it from its mount. ‘I’m home now, Nellie dearie. Is there anything else you wish to talk about?’

“I think… I’m good,” Nellie said. “I’ll text if I think of anything else. Thanks, Uncle Winston.”

Of course,’ he said. ‘I’ll be sure to straighten things out with that dreadful school. Don’t worry your pretty head over that. Cheers.

The screen blacked out. She exhaled as a weight lifted, tucking her phone back into her pocket after silencing it. She had not heard the bell to end class, but that could have been due to her paying attention and processing what Uncle Winston was saying. She decided if the bell had not yet rung, it was still close enough to go off to the lunchroom.

The bell rung as she entered the lunchroom.

“That solves that,” she murmured to herself.

Nellie collected her disappointing lunch and searched for a seat. There was one open at a packed table of kids a grade older. They would likely let her sit there so long as they were free to ignore her. She took a few steps that way, pausing when she spotted a table with five open seats. She teetered, and switched directions to occupy one of the empty five.

A thought sprung into her mind as she started on her food. She pulled out her phone and opened her messages to Uncle Winston.

What’s my uncle’s name?

She remembered Ira’s joke and quickly added:

The one that wanted me as a playmate for his son.

She looked up as Olivia, Ava, Sophia, and Emma sank into the empty seats around her. She gave them a weak smile as her heart beat rapidly.

“OMG, Perenelle, I’m so sorry about your granny,” Emma said. “And that was totally uncalled for answering your phone like that!”

“My grandmother isn’t dead,” Nellie muttered. “Apparently, my uncle thought that was the best way to get my phone back.”

“Oh… that’s kind of messed up,” Ava said. “Sorry, that was mean.”

“It was accurate,” Nellie said.

“What’s messed up is teachers freaking out and stealing our phones,” Olivia said, tossing her curls off her shoulder. “That’s a total invasion of privacy.”

They sat around seething about the unfairness of the teachers, administrators, and the school while they picked over their lunches. Nellie found her smile growing more genuine as her posture relaxed. She even laughed along as the subject switched to swooning over Ira and lamenting his going.

Nellie trudged through the rest of the school day feeling a bit better knowing she was not overreacting to how the teachers were treating her. She headed out to the car rider awning, tentatively approaching Emma and Olivia to wait. She pulled out her phone to check the time, and perhaps call Ira to see if he would be gracing them with his presence, but was immediately distracted by a response from Uncle Winston.

Brecken Agarwal. Cheers, Winston.

---

Ira had gone to the airport shortly before school let out, leaving Nathalie to send his deepest regrets on not saying a proper goodbye. He had left her the phone number for the local Order of Ferblanc should she need it in the future.

Nellie sat on her bedroom floor with the box of her father’s letters at her side and the family photo album on her bed next to her head. Ash lay at her feet, ripping his toy to bits.

The letters were careful to avoid using Brecken’s name, always calling him Regere and always phrased in a way that spoke to admiration peppered with frustrations. The most recent letters had a more worried tone, but there was no specific direction for it named.

“I didn’t imagine Ira saying my mother was a dragon, did I,” Nellie asked Ash. “It was a stressful situation…. Well, I guess the stress started after he said it, so it wouldn’t’ve been some stress induced…. I don’t even know.” She pet Ash. “I suppose writing your sister to say your wife is a dragon is a bit out there when you’re so careful to not even mention your boss’s first name. Wait… are my parents even married?” She buried her face in her hands. “This is all too much!”

She pulled the album onto her lap, turning it to the photo of Rhys at his graduation. She felt her wavy auburn hair and traced his blond waves with her finger. She shared his blue eyes too. She carried the album out of the room with her to avoid any mishaps with Ash taking too much interest in it. She sank down on the worn couch next to Nathalie, peeking at the laptop screen.

“Oh, you’re budgeting,” Nellie said.

“Unfortunately,” Nathalie said. She bit her thumbnail. “The drive will need to be widened and paved. Perhaps the front of the house as well.”

“There’s no grass out front anyway,” Nellie said encouragingly.

“It may be the first thing to be done,” Nathalie said. “I can’t image work trucks having an easy time coming and going to get the out buildings proper without firm ground for them to drive on.”

“So… you’re using the laptop for a while…,” Nellie said.

“Do you require it for schoolwork,” Nathalie asked.

“No.”

“Then, yes, I’ll be using it for a bit longer,” Nathalie said. She narrowed her eyes at the screen. “Asphalt is not as cheap as I hoped….” She grabbed her cellphone, pulling up the calculator.

Nellie did the same, opening the web browser on her phone instead of the calculator. She typed in: Brecken Agarwal.

There were no results for Brecken Agarwal directly. Brecken was common enough of a name to get a scattering, half the time it being a surname. Agarwal brought up the Bania Vaishya caste of northern India.

“I’m Indian,” Nellie said, half unsure and half shocked.

“Indian,” Nathalie questioned. She looked at Nellie’s screen. “Truly?” She frowned. “I thought Rhys said her name was…? Oh, what was it? Something decidedly not Indian.”

“Brunhilde,” Nellie said. She ran her hand over the slightly tanned skin of her arm. “I always assumed you’d hooked up with some South American….”

“Perenelle! Don’t say such things,” Nathalie said, aghast.

“Brecken isn’t Indian either,” Nellie mused. “Maybe I’m just a quarter?”

She added Brunhilde and Brue to the Brecken Agarwal search. An Instagram account for a Lila Agarwal was the top result with the remaining being short articles from online fashion blogs Nellie had never heard of. She ignored Instagram–Nathalie would not let her have an account so she would not be able to view it properly–and went to the first blog.

Lila Agarwal was a beautiful woman in her early thirties with long, thick, dark hair and deep, dark, doe-eyes. Her warm, brown skin had a glow that could have been a filter or excellent make-up on top of nutrition and skincare routines. She was a self-made model with a huge wellness following online, and the youngest of five children. Her older sisters, Meena and Chandra, were her fashion designers and her older brother, Krishna, was her manager. Her eldest brother Vihaan worked a more traditional job in her grandfather’s company.

Nellie began a new search with Vihaan Agarwal and was instantly rewarded with his LinkedIn profile. She was unable to view it without the site prompting her to switch to the app and asking her to login, but she saw enough to get the company name.

Anahata BioTech was founded by Sachin Agarwal sixty years ago, but never made much stride or impact until the late-1980s when biotechnology the world over started making huge leaps. He was now retired and his daughter Dr. Priya Khan was the CEO.

A search of Sachin Agarwal brought up a Wikipedia biography. Nellie scanned the personal life section, skipping the childhood and his first marriage, and even most of his second marriage to an American named Eileen, going to the sentences that stated:

Agarwal has four children, two from his marriage to Deva (Priya and Vikrum) and two from his marriage to Eileen (Brunhilde and Brecken). His daughter Priya is the CEO of the biotechnology company Anahata BioTech and his son Vikrum is a celebrated mandala artist. Vikrum’s youngest daughter is the wellness influencer and model Lila Agarwal.

There was no link attached to Brunhilde’s name, nor to Brecken’s. The fact that Lila Agarwal’s Instagram popped up when Brue/Brunhilde was added to the search led Nellie to assume there was a throwback picture of the model with her aunt. Or some mention of her.

“Are you logged into your Insta,” Nellie asked Nathalie.

“I assume so,” Nathalie said, still focused on her figures. “Oh, that’s an excellent idea, Nellie love! I should repost which pieces I want to sell so they’re in peoples’ feeds again. Do I have any I haven’t posted?”

Nathalie became absorbed with checking her phone gallery and comparing it to her Instagram page.

Nellie played with split ends in her hair. “Do you believe in dragons?”

Nathalie stopped scrolling. She glanced at Ash–now following his nose out of Nellie’s room–and then at Nellie. Her eyebrows knitted.

“Should I,” she asked.

“Maybe,” Nellie said, shrugging. “Ira said his mother was a dragon. And, um….”

She could not finish her thought. It still felt strange talking to Nathalie about her biological mother. It felt like betrayal, but on her part or Nathalie’s it was blurred. Her chest felt tight as he thought of Ira. He was likely still in the air, unable to be reached.

“I’m sorry, but did you just say Ira told you his mother is a dragon?”

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

The phone ban in schools started in 2025 in TN and not all counties do it, I think. Since this is January 2024, phones are still allowed but they're supposed to be silenced and not looked at during class. Nellie is just on the wrong side of all her teachers after her lawyer uncle showed up to yell at the school. I almost had Ira picking her up again, since they didn't get into their big conversation, but he was planning on hightailing it once Cecily was found, so he did that instead.

I spent a stupidly long time naming Nellie's cousins (99% sure they never interact with her) and her grandfather's company. If her uncle Vikram or aunt Priya ever do show up, it'd just be to reinforce what Uncle Winston said about them not caring much for their younger sister and Nellie by extension. (Unsaid part is that they don't care for Brue's mother Eileen either, and that Eileen was maybe only 5 years older than Priya so they had this whole other layer of "ew dad she's so young" going on. As Winston said when he came to visit, if Nellie thinks Rhys's side is complicated, it has nothing on Brue's, lol.) Nellie has always been part Indian since coming up with the idea in 2014. Originally she was going to be half, but since half or a quarter made little difference, I did a quarter since I wanted her blue eyes more genetically believable. Nellie having reddish hair, light colored eyes, and freckles is based on my older niece since we used to go "monster hunting" around the house when she was tiny. Mostly looking for cockatrice. Nellie's looks are also inspired by what I think my Dragon Age: Inquisition character and her love interest would produce for a kid, because I had some weird fever induced cut scene that didn't exist when I played it through the first time while sick that my character told her love interest that she was pregnant right before the big battle at the end, and I just remember going 'that would make the stakes for them both surviving so much higher if that really happened' but it didn't happen (and the game overall was this weird empty letdown feeling that I still can't completely put my finger on even after replaying my two characters twice and starting seven others).

Oh yeah, that player character was named Brue. Why not use the name since I was using the design, lol?

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P.Track.28

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

The sliding door opened some feet behind her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are?”

“I am,” Amias said smugly.

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

“You did?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which he did.”

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

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

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

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

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

“All powerful is a stretch….”

“Not much of one.”

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

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

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

Morgan’s scowl deepened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why must you antagonize him,” Amias muttered.

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

“He is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rather fast, isn’t it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you… supposed to call it that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“These seem too specific,” Nellie said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask him to stop looking?”

“No. Just to come back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

Happy Birthday to The Future Great!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Jay

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March 10, 2026
The Next Step
A Westfall Short

Gemini rolled over in her bed with a long sigh, glaring into the dark room, dimly lit by what little moonlight could sift through the white cotton curtain of the window. She could just barely make out the shape of Kitty on the windowsill, but even with the feline’s presence, she still felt more alone than she had in a long time. She shut her eyes and tried to rest, but the hours continued to slip by.

She sat up with a frown, clutching the sheets in balled fists. She had slept, alone, in this very room for over three years now.

Why was it so unbearable tonight?

She and Hudson were never able to connect after they had parted that morning. Each had been pulled in a variety of directions, missing each other with every step. By the time she had returned from her hunt–and her chapel detour–the door to the shop was closed up, and she hated to disturb the Rowletts in their home just to tell Hudson goodnight.

But, ever since their “breakfast date” that morning, their relationship–and where it was headed–had moved to the forefront of her mind. Her prayer in the chapel had only solidified its position.

A wave of longing passed through her body. Its depth startled her.

She grabbed her glasses and kicked out of the sheets. She slipped her feet into her cowboy boots, and, with one leg of her pajama pants tucked into one boot, she rushed to the door and stepped out onto the landing.

She froze when she found Hudson on the shop’s roof across from her.

He seemed to be in a similar state of distress, and before he could get to his feet and move toward her, she scrambled over the ledge and ran to him. As he scooped her into his arms, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, hanging onto him as he folded his arms across her back.

“Gem–”

“Hudson–”

The two paused, having spoken their names in unison. They leaned back to be able to look at each other as Hudson repositioned his hold under her legs.

“Um, you first,” he nodded to her.

“Okay,” she took back one hand to smooth the hair behind her ear. “Well, I was laying there, and I couldn’t sleep... and it’s kind of ridiculous because I’m literally right over you, and I’m going to see you in the morning, but...” She bit her lip. “I just felt like I needed to see you.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She huffed the weight from her chest. “Anyway, what were you going to say?”

His lips tugged to a half-smile. “The same thing.”

“Oh,” she blinked and found a smile. “Well, at least we’re on the same page. So... now what?”

Hudson’s lips skewed, and he shifted her in his arms to set her back down on the concrete roof. He poorly squashed a grin when he noticed her disheveled boots, glancing down at his own half-tucked shirt from his own haste. “Well, we were talking about what comes next earlier today,” he began, his face reddening.

Her heart fluttered in her chest. “Is it,” she paused, chewing her lip, “is it not too soon?”

He straightened up in apprehension. “Is it?”

“I–I don’t know,” she glanced aside nervously, “is there a set time you’re supposed to be dating–or courting–before you get married?”

He huffed a laugh. “I just asked Lil that same question earlier.”

“You did?” She grinned.

“Yeah–and, there isn’t.” He took a breath, “So, if we both feel like we’re ready to take that step…”

Gemini inched closer. “Are you?”

His thin lips were pressed tight as he met her eyes. “...Are you?”

“Yes,” she admitted softly, her eyes unmoving from his.

The admission instantly warmed his face, and he poorly hid a grin before blurting, “Me too.”

Just like the dream-like moment that followed their first kiss, the person standing before them at once seemed a little different. It was as if a new light had been shined upon them, revealing a deeper feeling than they had ever noticed before–in each other, and within themselves.

“Okay,” she fought through the awe-struck silence. “What do we need to do, then?”

“Well, generally, this is when I’d ask your parents if I could marry you.”

She shrugged and grinned at him. “I guess we don’t have to worry about that step,” she attempted to joke, but her smile faded when it had no effect on him.

“I dunno,” he tilted his head, taking her arms. “I feel like I need to ask somebody, or I’m not doin’ it right.”

She frowned lightly. “But, who could that even be? The only person I can think of would have been William.”

He sighed and looked at his boots.

“Besides, on Aravast, you wouldn’t have asked my parents anyway.”

“I would’ve asked your grandma,” he nodded.

“Wait.” She popped up with wide eyes. “What if I pretend I’m Mama Antonia and you can ask her?”

He seemed curious, yet doubtful. ”I dunno.”

“Come on,” she took him by the arms and led him across the roof. They scooted over the ledge and returned to the wooden landing outside her loft. Once there, she stood beside him and pointed to the door. “You are currently standing at my grandma’s house. What would you do?”

“Well, uh...” He gave a quick glance over his clothes and tucked in his shirt. He quickly brushed his hair from his forehead and straightened his posture, eying Gemini as she smirked. He then stretched out his hand and gave her door a few knocks.

She couldn’t help but laugh as she leaned across him to open the door. Once it was open, she stepped back beside him. “The door opens, and Antonia Inova now stands before us.” Gemini grinned as the darkness of the room beyond the door gave way to a memory of her grandmother. “She’s about Paw’s height–but admittedly a little more round–and she has short, curly, white hair; bright green eyes; and round glasses on her nose.”

Hudson inspected the imaginary form of Mama Antonia. “Good evening, Mrs. Inova,” he bowed slightly. “My name is Hudson Rowlett, and I have a real important question to ask you, if now is a good time.” He lingered on the word, as if it had been a question. He was surprised to find himself growing almost as nervous as if he had truly been asking Gemini’s grandmother.

“Of course, Mr. Rowlett!” The words came from her granddaughter. “I’ve heard so much about you! Go ahead.”

“Well, ma’am,” Hudson clutched his hands together, ”I wanna start by sayin’ your granddaughter is the kindest, smartest, and most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. She’s lovin’ and carin’, and a Godly woman who’s brought hope to so many–includin’ myself. She’s…” he gently laid one of his hands on her shoulder, as if to further prove his point. “She’s truly the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Gemini found it difficult to stay in character, squashing her lips tight against Hudson’s heartfelt admission.

Hudson again straightened his posture and took in a deep breath. “So, if I may, I would like to ask for her hand in marriage.”

She was quiet for a moment; though it was long enough for Hudson to break the illusion by glancing at her. But, with a wide smile, she squinted her eyes shut and threw out her hands. “‘It’s about time someone tamed that flame!!’” 

He broke into a laugh. ”You’re makin’ that up!”

“I swear–that was exactly what Mama Antonia told me she’d say!!” Gemini giggled as she practically leapt into his arms. “She told me if I approved of someone, she would approve, too–and I know she would have loved you,” she added with a warm smile. 

Hudson stole a kiss from her cheek before leaning back to better look into her eyes. “Well, since I’ve got Mama Antonia’s blessing,” he shot a coy grin, “I just gotta let Paw know and get his; and that won’t be a problem.”

“And then?”

The smirk warmed as he set her down and dipped his head. “Then, I get to propose to you–to ask you officially–only I’ve gotta do it as a surprise.”

Her expression scrunched. “Wait, so after all this, I can still say no?”

He blinked. “Please, don’t.”

She puffed out a laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already said yes–and I will continue to say yes as many times as I’m asked.”

“I think it’s more about the surprise than the actual askin’.” His hands slipped down from her shoulders to hold her fingers, running over a familiar blue bracelet on her wrist in the process. “Some folks propose ‘round all their friends or family so they can celebrate together; some folks’ll propose in private and then go out and spread the news... I just have to make sure you don’t know when to expect it,” he ended slyly.

“Oh, yeah?” She drew closer to him.

“And, I gotta get a ring for you to wear,” his words turned soft as he looked at her hands, “so I can put it on your finger when–”

He wasn’t able to finish as her lips pressed against his. He hummed as his eyes closed and he folded his arms around her back. He felt her hands around his neck, reaching up into his hair.

He huffed breathily when they parted. “You’re not makin’ this any easier,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” she exhaled through a smile.

He smoothed out a strand of white hair on her forehead. “Maybe we should try to get some sleep,” he offered.

“Yeah,” she smiled at him. “I’m glad you were here. I feel a little better now.”

“Me too,” he smiled back. “I love you.”

She squinted her eyes and buried her face back into his chest. “I love you too,” she murmured into his shirt.

Hudson held on as long as she did. Despite sleep finally weighing on his eyelids, he rested his chin on the top of her head and gazed up at the stars overhead. 

He smiled. He’d hold on all night if he had to.

 

-----

The Rowlett's house is 2 stories, and since the shop is one big tall ceiling, its roof is maybe 4 feet taller than the landing of the upstairs loft. And since I like to mirror things a lot, there's a scene early on after Gemini moves into the loft where she can't sleep and goes out to find Hudson up on the shop roof across from her. They semi-awkwardly sit on opposites sides for a little bit, talking to each other before they part ways. So despite being similar circumstances, the feelings have greatly changed this time!

I had the idea for Gemini to be Mama Antonia pretty early in all my drafts - as perfect as it would have been for Hudson to ask William for her hand... 😞 In the "Last Night on Aravast" sketch, Antonia tells Gemini the "it's about time someone tamed this flame!" line and despite Gemini rolling it off, it still stuck with her.

These two are just ridicuously cute together and I will ship them forever 😁

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