Firebrand Risk
P.Track.13
November 22, 2025

Nellie was woken by Nathalie’s frustrated cries to Uncle Winston at 1AM. She did not go listen at the door. She did not get out of bed at all. She lay still, staring into the darkness hiding her ceiling, trying to tune out the fragmented conversation. She drifted in and out, falling into an uneasy sleep only to be startled awake by her phone alarm four hours later.

She quickly silenced it and did not dare move, ears straining for sounds of it waking Nathalie. All was quiet. She dressed in jeans and pulled a zip-up sweatshirt over her shirt, and crept outside.

Ash stuck his head out of the dog-door on his house. He bolted for her, skidding to a halt as she held up her hands and shushed him frantically.

“Want extra breakfast,” Nellie asked, roughing his face.

She filled his bowl and scattered more around the cozy shed to give him something to search for. She turned his heater on and hovered near it, shivering in the dark, listening to Ash crunching the kibbles. Her phone buzzed some minutes later. She opened Morgan’s message:

Out front.

“See you later, Ash,” Nellie murmured.

A shiny, black Lexus idled beyond the trees at the end of the driveway. It was like every government kidnapping seen on TV. She crept over, exhaling the breath she did not know she was holding when the back window slid down and Morgan stuck out his head.

“Nellie, hurry,” Morgan whispered loudly.

She was settled in the back with her cousin a second later with the car heading northwest.

“Cumberland City and Cumberland Furnace are near enough to each other that we can hit both,” Morgan said, moving around the map on his phone. “I estimate three hours to hit both locations, an hour about at each, and likely three back. You should be home near two.”

“It won’t matter,” Nellie said. “I’ll be in trouble the moment she wakes up and sees I’m gone.” She snuggled against the door, shooting the silent driver a look. “Ferblanc?”

“Uber Black,” Morgan said. He yawned hugely. “I’ll try to sleep. You should too.”

The suggestion was noted and unneeded. Nellie’s eyes were already heavy. The humming of the engine was more comforting than in the Crown Victoria, probably due to the car being new. The heater had done its job, and she was now too comfortable to fight against the need for sleep.

They were woken by their driver just over two hours later; him being sure they were in Cumberland Furnace but not sure where specifically they wanted to be dropped off. There were no options that either of them saw on the slow crawl through the only street in town.

Town was too large a word to describe the rural community. There was not really anything for a downtown. There was a two-story white building that said it was a community center that stood near some houses. There was a post office not anywhere near the community center that stood alone with only fields around, but this was across–at an angle–from another old building that had once been a train station, although Nellie could not find any trace of tracks anywhere. All the other properties looked to be homes with yards at the least and multiple acres at most.

“I don’t think this is right,” Morgan said slowly. He was eyeing a farmer driving his tractor down the opposite side of the street warily.

“Rural would make the most sense… but, I think you’ve got a point,” Nellie said, frowning at the nothingness of the place. “I thought Lynchburg was rural….”

“Driver,” Morgan commanded, “onto Cumberland City, if you would.”

“Please,” Nellie added.

The driver grumbled and recalculated his GPS.

Nellie yawned and adjusted her seating now that she was awake. She flinched as her phone started buzzing in her pocket.

“Your aunt,” Morgan asked.

“Most likely.”

“Silence it. I’ve mine off since we hit the highway,” Morgan said. “Actually….” He extracted his phone, holding down the button until the screen lit. “Just curious.”

She had never fully understood the term ‘phone blowing up’ until that moment. The notification chimes came so quickly they blurred together. It made her anxious, but Morgan looked bored. She hastily silenced her phone as he again turned his off.

“Was that all Amias,” she asked.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” Morgan said, resting his head against the window. “Driver, how long until we arrive? I’m getting hungry.”

“Thirty minutes,” the driver said, his tone tired and unamused.

The scenery did not get significantly more populated as they continued. It remained mostly fields and some woods. If anything, the number of houses dropped and businesses all disappeared. It was surprising that when they passed an old, large barn they turned onto Main Street. They sat up, taking more note of their surroundings, but the view stayed fields with the number of houses beginning to increase. They slowed near the post office and police station–both undescript, small, old buildings–and stopped at the stop sign at the end of the street.

“Driver,” Morgan said warily, “are we arriving soon?”

“We just drove through,” he said.

“I didn’t see even a diner,” Nellie said, wrapping her arms around her growling stomach.

“This is absurd,” Morgan growled. “How is this a city? There’s nothing here!”

“We wouldn’t find it in a city,” Nellie pointed out. She leaned towards the front. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but is there any other Cumberland in Tennessee?”

“There’s a Cumberland County,” the driver said. “Think one of the state parks over there has Cumberland in the name.”

Morgan’s phone was pinging like crazy again. He stared at the screen–ignoring the noise–with his jaw clenched as an internet search loaded at a glacial pace.

“That would be a better fit,” Morgan said. “Cumberland City has only been called such since 1814. It’s too new for what we want.” He groaned and turned his phone off again. “You’ll have to handle searches. The adults in my life are too irritating for words!”

“I mean… you did kind of vanish on them,” Nellie said. “It’s a pretty normal reaction.” She smiled sympathetically at the driver. “Sorry, but can you get us to Cumberland County?”

“You want to go to a county? A whole county?” He twisted in his seat, setting a disbelieving stare on them. “Do you understand how broad that is? Are you going to ask me to zigzag all over it?”

“I am paying you,” Morgan said coolly. “Imagine what you’ll make with this fare.”

The driver narrowed his eyes, and turned back to the road. “I ain’t about to go to jail for driving runaways around. Am I dropping you kids off at that townhouse or the farm house?”

Morgan argued that he had money, that they were not runaways, and whatever other points popped into his head without budging the driver’s decision. The driver eventually popped in some earbuds and turned his radio on, leaving them to sit as hostages for the long drive back.

Nellie dared to go into her messages. There were two missed calls from Uncle Winston and five from Nathalie. Uncle Winston left a single text asking where she went. Amias sent three asking where she was, if Morgan was with her, and begging her to get in touch. Nathalie did not leave as many as she had thought, only five, and all short:

Where are you!?

You lost your summer holiday as well!

I’m calling the police.

I won’t call the police.

I’m worried. Please respond.

She clicked to respond but her fingers did not move.

“Something the matter,” Morgan asked.

“Maybe we should’ve said something,” Nellie said. “Going off to find the Cumberland dragon seemed like a great idea last night, but–.”

“But now you see the consequences so are getting cold feet,” Morgan said. “You think anyone would’ve let us?”

“Amias might’ve if we asked him to come with us,” Nellie said. She then mumbled, “Probably would’ve been a good idea to bring a mage….”

She eyed the clock, estimating they were halfway through the return journey. She rubbed her hollow stomach, giggling at the growl from Morgan’s. Their driver would not be interested in stopping with how Morgan spoke down to him, and with the idea in his head that they were trying to run. She stared into her darkened phone screen, wetting her lips before waking it.

“What are you doing,” Morgan asked suspiciously.

She typed to Nathalie:

I’m sorry. We’ll be back in about an hour. We’re starving.

“You’re naive,” Morgan scoffed.

She visibly bristled, and glared daggers at her cousin. “I’m naive,” she spat. “You think you can just run around all willy-nilly, waving cash at people to get them to jump through your hoops! Nevermind you’re a small, skinny boy who still has baby teeth!”

Morgan clamped his mouth shut, curling his lips in to hide his teeth more–one of his canines missing, recently falling out. His mouth turned down exaggeratedly as his hazel eyes narrowed.

“I’ll have all my adult teeth someday,” Morgan said coolly, “but you’ll still embarrass yourself being a naive girl that uses terms like ‘willy-nilly’.”

Her hands balled up and she found herself taking deep breaths to avoid knocking out her cousin’s other baby teeth.

They sat quietly, stewing, as the fields zipped by. They looked at their phones; Nellie seeing her text was read but unanswered, Morgan’s chiming madly until he shut it off again.

“So… what’s Lisbon like,” Nellie asked.

“Vibrant, busy, but relaxed.”

“That’s a contradiction,” Nellie pointed out. She sighed at Morgan’s shrug “What’s your mom like?”

Morgan held up his phone, giving it a shake. “Worried.”

“It’s like pulling teeth to get anything out of you, you know that,” Nellie said. She laughed at his glare.

His shoulders relaxed a degree as he fought a smirk. He leaned up against his door, twisting to keep her in sight. His eyes dropped to the off phone in his hands before he tucked it into the pocket of his designer jeans.

“I’m an only child,” Morgan said. “You can tell I’ve no siblings by how she dotes and fusses. She has a few things she’s firm on, and upholds those strictly.”

“What kind of things,” Nellie asked.

“Boring things,” Morgan said, shrugging. He paused, and saw she was waiting for clarification. “Study marks. How I present in public. You know, boring things.”

“My… aunt, I guess, is obsessed with my grades right now,” Nellie said. “She’s trying to get me into the boarding school near our house. As a day student. That was the whole reason we moved here.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I don’t think either of us thought about what happens if I don’t get accepted….”

“Do you even want to go,” Morgan asked. “You seem withdrawn over the mention of it.”

Cold, creeping dread overcame her. Her mouth went dry, and her throat tightened. She had wanted to go to the Webb School, just like her mom had, but things were not the same anymore. It was no longer she and her mom scheming about study tactics in their small, Sunrise apartment; it was she and her aunt with an unspoken rift trying to pretend all the new changes either were not happening or they could simply talk through.

“I wish we never moved here,” Nellie said.

“It does leave much to be desired,” Morgan agreed.

“The ruralness is fine; it’s not that,” Nellie said. “My life imploded. Forget the bad school, lousy teachers, and meanspirited kids; I found out my mom was really my aunt, and everything just spiraled from there.” She hugged herself. “The worst part is… I don’t think she ever would’ve said anything to me if I didn’t stumble upon it myself.”

She woke up her phone screen and smiled. Ash was facing away from the camera to hide the fact his eyes were red, staring down the snowy driveway. He stood tall, but not quiet enough to hide his youthful lankiness. His blackness was starkly contrasted with the background, and he appeared soft and warm against the cold.

“Well… maybe I don’t totally regret it,” Nellie muttered.

“We were able to meet,” Morgan said. He glanced over. “Oh, you mean because of your…. What is it?”

“Smoke wolf,” Nellie said. “His name is Ash.” She grinned. “But, yeah, I did get to meet the only cousin my age I’ve got.”

They exchanged small smiles before turning to stare out their windows.

“I can’t see Amias allowing me to stay any longer after this,” Morgan said. “This was our one chance to search for the Cumberland dragon, and we bungled it.”

The Lexus turned down the driveway. Both of them leaned towards the middle of the car to stare out the windshield. The trees around the small house had gotten leaves, casting soft, billowy shadows on the asphalt. Ash appeared from one of the shadows that stretched over the Crown Victoria, causing their driver to hit his brakes and laugh nervously about not seeing the dog laying there earlier.

Nellie and Morgan exchanged a knowing look, their impish smirks being wiped from their faces before fully forming as Ash let loose a long, bone-chilling howl.

“Wuh-what kind of dog is that,” the driver asked weakly.

“Shepherd mix.”

They lingered in the backseat. Their failed quest would truly be over once they stepped outside. They would be separated; Nellie expected to be grounded until she started at Webb, Morgan’s fate was more of a mystery, but if his mother was strict about things like grades and manners, then he would not get off lightly either.

Nathalie stepped out of the house. She wore her fuzzy, once-white robe and crossed her arms tightly.

Nellie slunk out of the car. She braced as Ash ran to greet her, jabbing her with his nose roughly before streaking off into the forest. She gingerly approached Nathalie, finding she could not look into her furious face. She shuffled by her into the house and was shocked still.

Uncle Winston was sitting on the couch with Amias pacing the cramped kitchen. They were pointedly ignoring that the other man was there.

“Perenelle,” they cried in unison. They shot a look at each other, quietly acknowledging they would not be able to pretend the other was not there now that she arrived.

Uncle Winston hurried to her, grabbing her shoulders roughly and giving her a shake. “What in the blazes were you thinking, girl!”

“I-I-I– How are you–?”

“I was on a plane the moment Nathalie called saying you disappeared from your lunch yesterday,” Uncle Winston said. He gave her a hard look. “Do not wriggle out of this, Perenelle. Do you have any idea how worried everyone was?”

“Master Morgan,” Amias cried. 

He rushed from around the eat-in bar, stopping short of reaching Morgan. It did not seem to be Nathalie standing by with her pale face and cold eyes that stopped him, but more of it being some barrier between Morgan and Amias, with the boy now adopting a more rigid posture than what Nellie had seen all day.

“Amias,” Morgan said curtly. His hazel eyes looked the man over. “You’re a mess.”

“He’s fine,” Nathalie said coolly, glaring down at Morgan. She gestured to the counter. “Please, sit, Mr. Baig. Another coffee?”

“Thank you, dear lady,” Amias said, tears prickling in his dark eyes.

He took his fresh cup with trembling hands. His nerves were more frazzled than during lunch yesterday. His hair was a complete mess, even his thin moustache looked unkempt. He was sallow and his clothes looked like something he pulled from his dirty pile, far too wrinkled and sloppily put on.

Uncle Winston forced her to sit next to him on the couch. He patted her knee with a grim clench in his jaw.

“Sit down, Morgan,” Nathalie said.

“Morgan,” the boy hissed. “What gives you the familiarity?”

Nathalie put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “This is America, kid. You’re lucky enough I went with your name and not an unsavory term.” She pointed to a barstool next to Amias. “Sit.”

Morgan sat.

Nathalie rummaged in the freezer. She popped frozen waffles into the toaster, grabbed plates, forks, butter knives, and syrup. The house stayed in tense silence except for the noise of her making plates for Nellie and Morgan. She set one plate before Morgan, and the other on the coffee table before Nellie.

Nellie ate her toaster-defrosted waffles hungrily and speedily, as if afraid Nathalie would whisk them away as part of her coming punishment.

“What were you thinking,” Uncle Winston said, cutting the silence. “First, you vanish from lunch. Then, you vanish from your room. You’re beyond lucky we hadn’t called the police.” His blue eyes shot to Amias.

“It had to stay quiet,” Amias murmured into his cup. “The Regere….”

“My father,” Morgan scoffed. “Like he’d notice.”

“Of course he would notice,” Amias snapped, causing all the house to jump. “And if not immediately, then you know your mother would bring his attention!” He shut his eyes, breathing deeply with his hand over his heart. “Oh, poor Evora.”

“...My aunt’s name is Evora,” Nellie asked.

“Not now, Perenelle,” Nathalie hissed.

“Then when, Aunt Nathalie,” Nellie spat.

The air was sucked out of the room. Nellie immediately felt tears prickle her eyes at Nathalie’s stunned expression, watching it slip into hurt. Her insides squirmed and she stared at her lap with her lip trembling.

Uncle Winston rubbed her back before standing to go to his sister. He said something to her in a low tone the others could not hear.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” Nellie said, the tears coming. “I didn’t mean–.” She choked off in a heartily sniff.

“Nellie,” Nathalie said calmly. “It’s all right.” She tried to smile but it did not work well. “I am your aunt. You said nothing wrong.”

“I’m not so intimate with this part of the family drama,” Morgan said, turning from the last bits of soggy waffle to face the others. “What happened now? With me and Nellie? Am I to go back to my mother and pretend I never went adventuring with my cousin?”

“That’s what you call disappearing in the night,” Uncle Winston said coldly. “Young man, clearly you’ve not been given proper boundaries.”

“We were looking for Ira,” Nellie defended. She shrugged. “Sort of. He must’ve been here looking for the Cumberland dragon before Cecily was spooked by that white screamer. Morgan thought it was possible he was here again since he didn’t get to finish that quest.”

“Amina koyayim,” Amias breathed, “you two were trying to find a dragon!”

Uncle Winston looked at Nathalie and Amais with a disbelieving scowl. “Pardon?”

“I’m sure Mr. Baig will fill us in on the details later,” Nathalie said. She collected herself and took the vacant seat next to Nellie. She took her hand. “We did have a bit of a chat while we waited to see if you children were alive.” (Nellie shifted uncomfortably.) “You have a few days left of your break. If Morgan’s mother permits it, then he may keep you company during your house arrest.”

“What about the dragon,” Nellie asked carefully. “We ruled out Cumberland City and Cumberland Furnace.”

“Now is not the time,” Uncle Winston said. “Why don’t you children go to your room, or see to that dog of yours. Give us time to discuss things further. Perhaps even contact this Evora woman.”

Morgan moved first. He jumped off the stool. “Show me your room, Nellie.” He stared hard at Amias. “Fetch me should you need help with my mom.”

Nellie peeked at Nathalie as she ushered Morgan to her room. Her stomach was a pit despite the waffles.

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

Wish I had time to put in a proper comment, but there is a screaming kid. Quick note: Evora is a region in Portugal and also the title of a Stromae song dedicated to a singer with that surname. The swear Amias says has an absolutely horrible direct translation, but I guess it's commonly used how it was used here. I spent waaaaay too long looking up how Uber Black worked, and if these areas here had it, and so long I killed my momentum naming Evora. I'm not totally satisfied with it.

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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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