Nellie gripped at her rapidly beating heart as Rhys and the Regere stared at each other. It was somehow worse than when Uncle Winston met the Regere despite there being no speaking outside of their first acknowledgements.

Xinyi crept over. If she had been in her fox form, her ears would have been flattened.

“Is… danger,” Xinyi asked in a loud whisper.

“No,” the Regere said. “At least, not today.” His shockingly light blue eyes lingered on Rhys. “Trust I'll be seeing you later, then?”

“Shortly,” Rhys said stiffly.

The Regere gave a nod, looked at Nellie and Xinyi, and headed back the way he came with a turn on his heel.

“Shall we go get your living arrangements taken care of,” Rhys asked Xinyi.

Rhys gestured for Xinyi to go back into the apartment. He gave Nellie a small, weak smile and disappeared after her. She stood at a loss. There was no invitation to follow them back into the apartment, and the Regere certainly had no welcoming air to him, further highlighted by him being long out of sight.

“Sweet?” The sudden voice caused Nellie to jump, and it took her a second to realize it came from the government escort still standing in his position. He jiggled a small, colorful tin reminiscent of mints at her.

She politely declined and they lapsed back into ignoring each other. 

“Nellie,” Morgan called, breaking from his mother's grip as soon as he crested the apartment building's entryway. “Oh, there you are. You ran off so suddenly.”

Her voice caught as Evora looked down at her. She had fixed her hair so that it was once more up in a tight bun. She looked more hawkish than when she frantically rushed Morgan moments earlier. She gave Nellie a small, thin lipped smile.

“Wonderful to meet you Perenelle,” she said, her voice softer now that she wasn’t hysterical. She let out a nervous chuckle. “Or rather, it’s wonderful to see you again.”

Nellie tried to say hello back, but only managed a strained smile.

Evora drew herself up. “Well, shall we?”

“Sure… I’ll just wait for Amias,” Nellie said.

Evora’s polite smile waivered. “Oh… well, that may take some time. He's… doing debriefing with Beast and Brigitte.”

With little else to do, Nellie trailed after Evora and her escort with Morgan. They walked up the busy street towards the palace, going into a modest appearing building that was lavishly decorated inside. She could feel the Regere’s pressure the closer they got to the suite.

“Thank you, Mr. Jiang, I can manage from here,” Evora said sweetly to their escort. “Would you please go wait for Amias? I know it's a short walk, but I fear his mood will cause distraction.” Evora ushered them into the suite.

It looked like the living room area for a high end salon. The open doorway to Nellie’s right led to the bathroom–dark tile and a huge bathtub visible from where she stood–while a much larger doorway, closed off by dark, double doors led to the bedroom. The Regere was nowhere to be seen, so she assumed he was shut up in there.

“My understanding is that you’ve been out all night,” Evora asked. She waved towards the couches. “You’ve time for a lie down before lunch.” Her eyes darted to the closed doors. “Excuse me, will you? Sit. Sit. Rest.”

Nellie and Morgan took a seat beside each other on the same couch, facing the closed doors that Evora slipped through. They sat in silence with the murmurings of the Regere and Evora leaking out into the room.

“How much trouble are we in,” Nellie whispered to Morgan. Morgan shrugged, keeping his hazel eyes down on his fingers knitted against his knees. “I imagine Rhys showing up distracted everyone from us running off…?”

They jumped as the bedroom doors were thrown open. The Regere strode out, looked at each of them in turn, and heaved a sigh.

“I never imaged you’d actually find him,” he said. “I thought he’d be way too far into the mountains by now.” His eyes lingered on Morgan’s stained shirt. “You were a foolish boy, Morgan.”

“Regere…,” Evora trailed off, pleadingly.

“You coddle him,” the Regere said sharply. “I’ll call out his foolishness. He nearly died out there. I can see as much from the amount of blood on his shirt.”

“But to,” Evora muttered something in Portuguese to herself, “rub the nose in it… He knows he made a mistake, Regere, meu amor.”

Morgan grew rigid at her side. Nellie could only imagine what was going on in his mind. She was mildly put off at how Evora called her husband by his title rather than his name, and that was distracting her from fully empathizing.

A sharp rap on the door cut the stares and raised hackles. Evora bustled over to the door. Amias huffily strode in seemingly unaware of them and of Rhys slinking in behind him. Amias continued on, dropping onto an easy chair near the window while Rhys stayed in the entryway.

“This will grow into an awkward silence if we wait for the proper thing to say,” the Regere said.

“I trust after how we parted ten years prior, it’ll be awkward regardless,” Rhys said.

“Shall we talk in the bedroom,” the Regere said, waving flippantly towards the doors. “No telling how this will go, and it’ll give Evora time to reacquaint herself with your daughter.”

“My daughter… Yes, funny how you’re here with her,” Rhys said, narrowing his eyes. “Quite amusing.”

“Please,” the Regere said more firmly, once more gesturing to the doors.

“Is something the matter, Brecken,” Rhys asked. “Afraid we'll cause a scene in front of the children?”

“Oh, yes, the children,” Evora said in false brightness, cutting in. “Allow me to thank you again, and again, and again for saving–.”

“He was obligated,” the Regere said coldly.

“Obligated?” Rhys scoffed. “Because of our connection? How absurd. Any adult with a grain of decency would rescue a child.”

“Exactly,” the Regere said. “Obligated.”

There was a long silence as the two men stared at each other. The room seemed chilly and statically charged all at once.

“Is anyone hungry,” Evora piped up. “Amias, how about we take the children for some food?”

Amias continued glaring at the patterned carpet as if it greatly offended him, completely oblivious to the friction in the room before him. His lack of reaction had Evora looking around the room for anything she could pivot to.

“Very well,” Rhys said, heading for the bedroom, “you’ll again have it your way.”

Evora watched them disappear into the bedroom. She turned to Amias, pursing her lips as if she thought better than to interrupt his brooding, and placed her hands on her hips.

“Well, I think some kind of food is in order,” she said to the kids. “I asked for staples in the fridge. Shall I see what I can scrounge together?”

She flitted off without waiting for any answer from either of them.

Nellie drummed her fingers on her knees. Her eyes fixed on the bedroom doors as her stomach tied up in knots. It was pointless to be worried over what was happening inside. The two strangers would pull her one way or the other, all for whatever they deemed to be her benefit. She bit her lip to stop it from shaking as her eyes prickled with tears.

Morgan kicked the coffee table, causing her to jump. “I hate them together!” He crossed his arms tight and threw himself into the back of the couch. “Guess our fun is over.” He side-eyed her. “You look wretched.”

“We should’ve never come,” Nellie murmured.

He did not contradict her, just slightly uncoiled from himself. He dropped his feet to the floor and shot up.

“My father turning up is making us forget ourselves,” Morgan said. His hazel eyes darted to the closed doors. “So?”

Nellie smiled weakly. “It is our only plan….”

They slipped off the couch and tiptoed to the doors. Amias lifted his head and they immediately shushed him in unison. He mimed buttoning his lip and sat back with amusement overtaking his surliness. Morgan winced as he turned the handle. Nellie pressed up against the barely visible crack.

Rhys’s voice slipped through. “–baiting those children. You’ve gone completely mad.”

“I never intended them to be without protection.”

“That matters very little seeing as how they nearly were killed.” 

There was a short stretch of silence, either they were exchanging looks or the Regere was answering too quietly for Nellie to hear through the door. She gave a small shake of her head at Morgan as he looked imploring at her to let him know that nothing noteworthy was said yet.

“You insist on sheltering her away from the Realm, and that itself is complete foolishness on your part,” the Regere commented.

“She’s only a girl and it is part of my duty to keep her safe,” Rhys said coolly. “You know what danger she’s in. Her and Fox’s girl. Perhaps, Brecken, you’d be of more use trying to corral her rather than interfere with Perenelle?”

Nellie heard her uncle mutter something along the lines of “what makes you think I haven’t” as she pulled back to face Morgan.

“They say Penny’s in danger,” she whispered. She pressed her ear back to the crack.

“–Majesty had a son,” Rhys was saying, still with an aggravated and cool note. “His danger is much different than that of the girls’. There’s little we can do with him, and even with Fox’s daughter, being adults now, but we must still try. Which is why, I stress once more, to stay out of Pernelle’s life. Let my sister raise her in peace.”

“Let her succumb to danger completely blind, you mean,” the Regere said. “She attracts them. The creatures. It’s only a matter of time before she’s truly noticed. And, you’d have me sit by on my hands?”

There was another pause.

“Ah, Evora,” Amias said, startling them straight. He leapt up and hurried into the kitchen area, sweeping Evora back with him. “These children are being far too cross. Let us have an adult moment before subjecting ourselves to it.”

Nellie gave him a grateful smile as her godfather shot her a quick wink before disappearing completely. She hastily leaned back towards the crack, exhaling at the silence. Nothing was missed.

“Were you using Perenelle as bait?”

It now made sense why she and Morgan were smuggled in, and why there was no real effort to locate Rhys when they got there. The plan was to drag her around the mountain ranges to see if anything was flushed out.

“Nellie,” Morgan hissed. “Well?”

The Regere had used her as bait before. Morgan was disgruntled enough having both parents around. She shook her head to indicate there was nothing to relay, and went back to listening. She heard heavy footsteps and jumped aside, colliding into Morgan in her haste. They both toppled over at Rhys’s feet.

“Once more, you go running—,” the Regere started, following after Rhys, reeling back as he spun towards him.

“We are not finished, Brecken,” Rhys snarled. “Not by far. But, now is not the time.” He looked down at the two tangled children. “We’ll speak at a later time in a more private, secure setting. But, presently, I wish to bring Perenelle home to my sister.” He looked to Evora–pale and strained–and Amias who re-entered the living room. “Can that be arranged, or am I on my own?”

Evora looked anxiously to the Regere. He gave a nod. “We’re all scheduled to leave tomorrow morning. I can add you to our docket.”

Nellie twisted and pushed to untangle herself from Morgan. She found Rhys offering his hand to help pull her up. She hesitantly took it and was pulled up with surprising force.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Rhys said. “Evora, I leave her to you for now.” He glared at the Regere. “Against my judgement.”

A strange feeling gripped her as she watched Rhys leave. She couldn’t figure out if she wanted to go with him, or just given the option. She didn’t know him any more than she knew Evora, and less than she knew Amias, but there was a sense of security with him there.

“How about a bite and some sightseeing,” Evora asked.

“I’m not hungry,” the Regere said moodily.

He disappeared back into the bedroom, shutting the doors behind him.

Lunch was quiet, as was the following walk through the market and rafting on the river. Evora and Amias chatted idly while Nellie and Morgan drifted in and out of sleepiness. The adventure was taking its toll, especially on Nellie who didn’t take a nap due to severe blood loss like Morgan had.

Mrs. Wu insisted on hosting them for dinner which at least had them rejoined by Xinyi. Lina had agreed to informally adopt her to teach her how to be more human, as Rhys suggested. Morgan and Nellie had a good time trying to teach her English phrases and tell her about Lisbon, Florida, London, and Tennessee.

Rhys and the Regere never joined them for the meal.

Nellie drifted in and out of sleep throughout the night. She managed a solid block right before Evora gently called out to her and Morgan that they needed to wake up. 

Going to the airport was a blur. Lina was there with Xinyi and Rhys. Nellie and Morgan exchange brief goodbyes with promises to write. Then, Nellie found herself on a small but spacious jet.

“You must be exhausted,” Evora said kindly. “These seats turn into cots. You pull this lever here, and it slides down.” She smiled warmly. “Whenever you need it.”

She needed it the moment the jet took off. The Regere and Rhys milled about at the front, both avoiding directly looking at the other. Amias peered out the sunny window he sat by with a glass bottle of sparkling water in his hand. Evora was watching Rhys and her husband, teetering as if ready to launch between them if needed.

Morgan reclined the seat next to her, and settled in. “I suspect they won’t be taking us back to the compound. Pity. We have so much to brag about.” He folded his arms behind his head. “I wonder what they mean by Penny being in danger. Other than the obvious.”

“Obvious,” Nellie murmured, her eyelids sliding closed.

“She’s running around unattended chasing a dragon,” Morgan said, his eye-roll clear in his tone. “You, at least, have me. So… what could this danger be?”

It had something to do with the creatures and how they were attracted to her, Penny, and Ira. They made a point of saying that Ira was in a different type of danger than she and Penny. Whatever it was threatening them, it must have had something to do with their mothers.

Nellie wasn’t sure she wanted to let Morgan know it was not only Penny that was in danger; at least, not until she understood it better herself. She had enough to worry about without adding a worried-trying-to-be-mature younger cousin to the mix.

She was dragged from her nap by the deep, low voices of the Regere and Rhys. The cabin lights were on low, and all the chairs were reclined into beds with notably two empty. She tensed when she realized their low whispers were coming from the galley area behind her head, and squinted to feign sleep if they happened to look out at her.

“—sense to stop in Lisbon first,” the Regere said.

“She’s going home,” Rhys said. “No detours. Most especially detours that put her in your court.”

“I’ve admitted bringing her here was a mistake. How many times must I say it?”

“Your own son, Brecken; that’s what I struggle with,” Rhys said. “How could you endanger your own child? No, enough. I don’t need your reasoning. Your mind is very different from mine; I’ve long accepted that. I just assumed you matured beyond relying so heavily on your power.” Rhys’s voice darkened. “I thought you had grasped being cursed backlashed onto those around you.”

A flash of green permeated Nellie’s eyelids. The light stayed, pulsating, and she curiously cracked an eye wider. From her vantage, all she could see was part of Rhys’s back through the slit in the curtain backlit by the pulsating green.

Rhys chuckled humorlessly. “You’re as impudent a brat as when we met.”

The light died off and seconds later the stumbling, hurried feet of Evora rushing to the back of the jet met Nellie’s ears. She clamped her eyelids shut as she passed.

“What are you two doing,” she hissed. “You’ll wake the children! And startle the crew.”

“My apologies, Evora,” Rhys said stiffly. “You should go rest. I’ll be relying on you a tad once we’re in America to help arrange travel for Perenelle and me back to… wherever it is my sister is living these days.”

“I can escort—,” the Regere started.

“Absolutely not. You are to stay far away from her haven,” Rhys said. “If she truly attracts creatures, as you say, then she does not need that compounded with your presence there.”

“Amias then,” Evora suggested. “He visited before. He and Ms. Herle seem to have a friendship blooming. But, of course, Commander—.”

“Commander of what?” The Regere had a bitter, mocking tone in his voice.

“I’ll have everything arranged,” Evora said with a bite in her voice. “Now, gentlemen, you should also rest while you can. If you’ll excuse me.”

Nellie squeezed her eyes tighter shut just to be sure they Evora couldn’t mistake her for eavesdropping. She relaxed, daring to peer through her eyelashes once she heard her settling back into her cot at the head of the jet.

“You'd do best to remember that your wife is well connected before making her angry,” Rhys said.

“But I'm so good at angering people,” the Regere said lightly. There was a drawn out pause. “I do want what’s best for her, Rhys. She’s my favorite sister’s only child.”

“And my daughter, despite my absence. I’m asking that you allow me to make decisions as her father. Even… if that means you keeping a distance.”

“Because you no longer trust me, or because you think my… condition would brighten her spotlight?”

“Are you really prepared for my answer,” Rhys asked. “You all but flatly admitted you used her as bait. You can surely, as a father yourself, understand my hesitancy.”

“His Highness is out searching for the Queen in earnest,” the Regere murmured. “That other girl, from what Silas has told me, is doing the same. They’ll also draw attention, and I know Nellie has contact with them both.”

“I ask, once more, leave Perenelle to me,” Rhys said more forcefully. “You should shift your focus to Fox’s girl and Prince Ira. They need the support and protection much more at the moment.”

“That girl is a social media star,” the Regere said distastefully. “She’s easy enough to track.” He sighed. “She threatens the whole balance we’ve built over centuries. Showing off that unicorn as she does.”

Rhys chuckled. “Seems she’s inherited some of Fox’s personality.” There was another pause. He murmured, barely audible, “Their story was unfair enough without all this Tiamat nonsense.”

Nellie was fighting hard to keep awake at this point. The two men were increasing their pauses, lowering their voices more now that they’d calmed down. She tried to keep listening but soon drifted off once again.

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

Well, so much for it being the last one. We're ending on 35! This was getting long, and I didn't want to force the ending bit in just to finish it off. This starts directly after chpt 33, so the quick refresher is that Rhys walked out of the apartment building to smoke, Nellie and Xinyi chased after him, he asked Nellie if she wanted to ask him anything, but the Regere showed up and that whole thread of thought went away. (Mr. Jiang is Evora and Amias's escort who was told to wait outside.)

I can't remember if I mentioned this is a random comment somewhere, but Brecken was ~19 when the Auctorita formed, so he basically was just this little brat when Rhys first met him. Especially when you compare him to Rhys at the same age who was a Knight of Ferblanc and already too stern for his age. I don't remember the exact age differences off the top of my head, but I think Rhys and Brue were nearish to 10 year apart, and Brue was three to five years older than Brecken. (I have to do my math backwards and compare it to Nathalie's age and Ira's age to double check, and I just can't fathom doing that right now, lol.) Point being, they have a lot of friction outside of all that went down just because of ages and personalities.

Nellie wasn’t sure what she expected when she reunited with Rhys. When she was small, before she knew about her parentage and the Realm, she would sporadically imagine her father turning up with a big smile and some kind of treat as a souvenir for her and Nathalie from whatever adventure she invented as his excuse for being absent. He'd apologize and the three of them would laugh and act like the years of desertion was a funny, fantastical story. In other imaginings, she would scream at him while he blubbered about how sorry he was while Nathalie wept how proud she was that Nellie had grown well enough to not let anyone off the hook for wrongdoing.

Admittedly, Nellie had not had such fantasies since learning Rhys was her father. She was far too distracted with the upheaval of everything she thought she knew. Even still, the silence had not been what she predicted.

Rhys had fed them some sort of meat that had long been dried with lumps of sopping rice he had stolen from nearby fields. He said nothing the whole time he prepared the meal, nor while they ate it. He didn't so much as look at either of the kids, and only quietly acknowledged the little fox when she'd prod at his knee for bits of his food.

“This is growing quite awkward, Uncle,” Morgan said.

Rhys flinched as if struck before sliding into a rueful smile. He slipped the fox another bite of meat, giving her head a small pat.

“I take it that you being here is no coincidence,” Rhys said. His voice was slightly hoarse from lack of use.

“We were searching for you,” Morgan said. “My father said you were in China, and so we convinced Beast and Brigitte to smuggle us in.”

Convinced was not the word Nellie would have chosen given Beast and Brigitte apparently were just humoring them until Evora arrived. The only consolation of this revelation was that it was very likely they tipped Silas off, and he explained things to Nathalie. She would still be beside herself with worry, but the knowing would help some.

Nellie cleared her throat. “What’s her name?” She pointed to the fox when Rhys’s brows knitted with confusion.

“Oh.” Rhys looked glad to talk of something other than the situation they found themselves in. (Morgan turned sulky.) “She hasn’t got one. Not that she’s told me at any rate.”

“Well, I think she deserves a name,” Nellie said.

“And I think it a stupid idea to create a bond with a huli jing,” Morgan grumbled. He suppressed a small smile. “But, I am still alive, so there’s that.” He dangled the last bit of his meat at the fox. “I’ll name you. You’ll have to be patient with me.”

Morgan lured the fox outside, leaving Nellie alone with Rhys. She had finished her food and couldn’t use it as a distraction. She scratched at the dirt with the toe of her shoe. There was so much she wanted to say, but nothing took hold strong enough in her mind.

“How’s your Aunt Nathalie,” Rhys asked conversationally.

Nellie’s hands balled up. The whirling thoughts and emotions narrowed to anger.

“I thought she was my mother until seven months ago,” Nellie growled. Her eyes prickled with hot, furious tears. “Do you know how messed up all that is?”

She wanted to yell about being uprooted from Florida, and then from her entire sense of self, but she could not find the words. Nathalie, Uncle Winston, and her grandparents shared a degree of blame, but Nathalie at the least had apologized for the unintentional deception. 

It all started with Rhys. It started with him abandoning her.

“That must have been confusing,” Rhys said quietly. “My intent was just your safety, Perenelle. I hadn’t expected to be gone so long.”

“And here I am with Morgan,” Nellie said scathingly. “So much for keeping me away from the Regere.” She glared at him. “Do you even know how old I am now? I’m twelve. Twelve! Did you even think about me at all in the last–?”

“Of course I have,” Rhys said sharply. “Everyday.”

His tone cut off Nellie’s building anger. There was an edge of offense in it that she hadn’t expected. She was preparing for him to be more regretful, maybe even get teary-eyed over all the missed years. She was unsure how to proceed. Making him angry wasn't her intention and it probably wasn't smart seeing that she and Morgan were in the wilderness with him. She doubted he would hurt them, but Nathalie’s podcasts were full of people lamenting such thoughts as they described horrific attacks or dead friends.

“Forgive me,” Rhys said with a heavy sigh. He pinched at his eyes. “The lack of nicotine is bringing out my worst.” He got to his feet. “Shall we?”

The three humans and small fox headed into the forest away from the hut. Nellie fell back to walk with Morgan, partly because following in Rhys’s trail was easier than trying to keep pace.

“How was it,” Morgan asked under his breath.

Nellie shrugged glumly. “Any luck with the name?”

“Something Chinese, of course, but my knowledge is extremely limited,” Morgan said. “What lead does he have on your mother?”

“I didn’t ask,” Nellie said.

“What? The entire reason for this trek into the wilderness—.”

“I know! But, there was sort of a lot going on, Morgan,” Nellie said coolly. “There still is.” She gestured at Rhys’s retreating back. “How am I supposed to talk to him about anything? I don’t remember him!”

Morgan charged ahead. “Uncle!”

“You really don’t need to call me that,” Rhys said, pausing for them to catch up.

“Nellie had something to ask you,” Morgan said.

Nellie glared at him as she drew in a breath to address Rhys’s mildly polite stare. “We were researching which dragon Brunhilde could be, and wanted to ask you which ones you’ve ruled out.”

Rhys’s expression stayed almost identical except his jaw stiffened. He turned away from them after an uncomfortable few seconds and started back through the trees.

“This path takes us back to the river,” Rhys said. “We’re bypassing the areas without banks this way. Keep close. The feihu don’t usually hunt here, but we cannot let our guards down.”

“Uncle,” Morgan fumed, stomping after him. “We’ve gone through too much trouble–.”

“Trouble?” Rhys stopped, rounding on them. “Is that what you call nearly getting yourselves killed? Trouble! You’re children. You leave matters such as these to adults.”

The anger that had been disrupted earlier flared back up at Rhys’s admonishment. He had no right to scold them. He didn’t know them; it was hard to believe he even cared about them outside of the grace of the average adult making sure a random child didn’t come to harm. It was her life that had fallen into disarray when he left. Nathalie lying, the rest of the family covering it up, not knowing about the Realm and her connection to it, Morgan: all of it came back to Rhys choosing to ditch her with the instructions to keep her from Brue’s family.

“No!” Nellie stopped, fists clenched, and glared at Rhys. “Me and Morgan put too much work into this. And, she’s my mother. I’m involved now, and you don’t have any right to tell me not to be!”

She would have stormed off for dramatic effect, but she had no idea where she was. She settled for standing stiffly, eyes narrowed at this stranger.

Morgan’s eyes darted between them before he cleared his throat. “Shall we? I don’t want to be stuck out here once it grows dark.”

“No,” Rhys said, tearing his eyes from Nellie, “you don’t.”

They continued on. Nellie made it a point to cross her arms and glare whenever Rhys turned to check on them, but that act was growing more difficult the sweatier and sticker she grew. Morgan started checking his phone reception once they felt the ground beneath turn into a downward slope.

“How did you get your phone anyway,” Nellie asked as her cousin once more tucked it away with a groan. “Mrs. Adams keeps them in her office.”

Morgan looked affronted. “You think this is my real phone?” He scoffed, holding up the black rectangle that looked remarkably like his phone. “This is just a Huawei I bought at the airport when we arrived. Just in case we needed a contact phone.”

“Quite the survivalist," Nellie said, rolling her eyes. She jerked her head at Rhys’s back. “What’d you think? He never answered you. He might be as much of a dead end as before we found him.”

“Perhaps… If we can delay him disappearing until my mother comes, then we can eavesdrop while they talk,” Morgan suggested. “He’s bound to tell her something useful. She is practically my father’s mouthpiece and ears when he’s not around, and it is his sister that was dragoned.”

It was the only plan they had.

After walking in a definite downward incline for several hot, sticky moments, they heard the river and the tourists rafting upon it. The trees thinned, and the river gleamed silvery at them. Rhys didn’t tell them which way to turn or warn them against the uneven shore. He turned and walked, and clearly expected them to keep up.

Morgan stole a glance towards a raft drifting nearby, half ducking behind Nellie. “I’ve a thought… Isn’t it suspicious for three obvious foreigners to be wandering the river with no guide?”

“Can you turn into a human for a bit,” Nellie asked the fox gleefully hopping rocking beside them.

Nellie only managed to spread her arms and partially shield the huli jing from the river–the rafters too busy to notice anything anyway–as she morphed into her girl form.

“Right… I don't think anyone will believe that the CCP employed a twelve-year-old in dirty shorts,” Morgan said dryly.

She hadn’t noticed until then that the huli jing was dressed in dirt stained shorts and wore no shoes. She had been too distracted by her growing freckles and turning into a fox. Nellie suspected the baggy t-shirt she wore with bold, black Chinese characters also was not up to the standards of a government official.

“Can you age up and change clothes?”

“She can’t,” Rhys called over his shoulder. “She’s not old enough. Watch your steps on the rocks. They’re quite slick.”

“Ah,” Morgan said knowinging, a superior expression on his face. “She must be under fifty. Lore says huli jing can’t turn into a woman until around fifty. Well, no matter. We’ll think of some excuse if stopped.” He held his phone over his head. “Oh, excellent! The slashed circle has disappeared. I should get a bar shortly.”

The girl was bouncing from rock to rock, happily humming. She would circle around Rhys and then return to Nellie and Morgan, hover around Morgan’s shoulder to stare at his phone, and bound off again.

The river widened and human noises picked up. The bridges came into view, the shores widened and shallows expanded. They trudged up a well worn path from the river to the residential district outside the palace.

“Am I correct in assuming that you have been placed with Mrs. Wu,” Rhys asked.

The girl skipped ahead, spun with her arms out—garning disapproving looks from passersby—as hurried off in the direction of Mrs. Wu’s apartment.

“Perhaps something starting with X,” Morgan mused, staring at his phone which now was slowly loading an internet page. “Hmm, sounds like ‘sh’... interesting.”

Morgan absorbed himself in his phone. Nellie did not want to get any closer to Rhys, still dragging a few feet behind him. She gave the girl skipping at her side a strained smile, getting a head tilt and perplexed expression back.

“Not happy? Rhys. Father. Not happy?”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Nellie admitted. “And it’s not just because of the language barrier. …Species barrier?”

They fell behind further. Nellie did not want to be scolded for running off, did not want to sit there while Rhys stepped in to play father, did not want to wait for Morgan’s mother to appear for what was sure to be more scolding mingled in with trying to step into a family role. She wished someone had the brilliant idea to bring Nathalie, but she didn’t get her hopes up.

Her attentions turned outward as the sounds of mean giggling fell upon her ears. A group of girls around her own age were sniggering, pointing to the huli jing’s dirty feet and t-shirt. Pre-teen girl teasing, as it turned out, was an international language.

“You can’t make sandals,” Nellie asked. She pointed to her sneakered feet. “Shoes? It probably isn’t very comfortable without them when you have human feet. Our feet are kind of useless like that.” The girl cocked her head. “How’d you get the clothes you have on? They’re just… on you whenever you transform. How come you don’t go from naked fox to naked girl?”

The fox-girl’s face lit up. She pointed dramatically into the crowd. “Naked! Naked! She’s naked!”

Nellie frantically shushed her, grabbing her wrist and wrenching it down. Most of the crowd was Chinese from what Nellie saw, and they stared at the pair of them as if they were rabid dogs. A few foreigners speckled throughout were turning on the spot, trying to catch sight of this naked girl.

“Clothes,” the girl said simply, tugging her t-shirt collar. “No more yelling.”

“Yeah… okay,” Nellie said, her heart rate still recovering from the outburst. “Let’s figure out how to get you shoes too. You’ll get even less stares.”

She caught sight of Rhys’s blond hair momentarily up ahead in the crowd, crossing the street before approaching the nearest vendor. She browsed the cheap, rubber sandals, smiling politely as the stall keeper aggressively waved random pairs around her face calling them deals and bargains in very broken English.

“Cute,” the girl said, picking up a pair with flowers stamped across the band. She broke the tie keeping them together, dropped them, and put her feet in. She skipped off.

“Wait!” Nellie scrounged in her wallet as the vendor chittered angrily at her. “Sorry. How much?” She was confident the figure was double what the sticker on the bottom of the sandals said.

“Hold it,” Morgan said, appearing by her side, and stopping her from handing over any money. “Xinyi! Come here. …Please.”

The girl—now a good ten feet away—stopped, tilted her head at Morgan, and then raced over with a wide grin on her face. She yanked on his arm, bouncing in place.

“Xinyi? Me? Pretty!”

“Yes, yes, I thought so too,” Morgan said dismissively, failing to suppress the proud smirk on his face. “Shoes.”

He paid for the sandals after showing the vendor the price written on the bottom. The three of them mixed back into the crowd as much as they were able with Nellie and Morgan being foreign and Xinyi happily tripping about like an excited puppy with something stuck to its foot.

“Xinyi,” Nellie murmured to Morgan.

“My best guess is it has something to do with being joyful,” he said, shrugging. “Characters play such a massive role in the meaning, and I don’t know any of those.”

“Naming her and buying stuff for her… Careful, little cousin, that could mean trouble,” Nellie teased.

“I was saving you from being overcharged!”

She wanted to continue her teasing, but the crowd froze and split with an angry, “You two!”

Brigitte was a ball of fury. Her short, purple ombre hair looked as though she’d been yanking it in all directions for the last few hours. She stormed over with her small, dark fists clenched into sharp balls. Nellie thought she was going to pummel them.

The crowd was giving her a clear path towards them, and it got worse when Beast appeared. They were practically running to get out of his way as he took long, brisk, intimidating strides towards them.

“Just hold firm,” Morgan said, straightening himself. “Once they see that we’ve found….”

They both noticed at the same time that Rhys was not anywhere near them nor in view.

Lina rushed between Beast and Brigitte and the kids, holding up her hands in surrender and hissing about causing a scene. She gestured frantically back towards the apartments, keeping up a babble of appeasement and apologetic nods that she directed to anyone nearby. She glared coldly at Nellie and Morgan.

“Come,” she commanded.

Morgan looked as if he wanted to challenge her a moment before deflating and dragging his feet after the adults. Nellie spun on the spot, seeing no sign of Rhys or even of Xinyi, before trotting along. They went single filed into Mrs. Wu's apartment with Nellie and Morgan wordlessly instructed to sit before the three angry adults. Mrs. Wu shuffled around them offering tea; Lina declining and politely ushering her off to the kitchen.

“We found him,” Morgan said quickly.

Beast and Brigitte did not look happy, or stunned, or whatever Nellie imagined would have been reasonable. They looked angrier. Beast swelled to fill the room, ready to unleash on them.

Nellie’s hackles rose. “You don’t dismiss him,” she snapped, jumping up. “You were never going to help us!”

“Watch your tone, girl,” Beast growled, his deep voice reverberating through the room.

“Or what? You’ll call Morgan’s mom to come get us?” She narrowed her blue eyes at him, relishing the satisfaction at the look Beast and Brigitte exchanged. “I heard you last night.”

“That is no excuse to run off during the night,” Lina cut in. “The mountains are dangerous.”

Morgan turned in a vain attempt to cover the bloodstains on his shirt. Nellie’s hand went to her arm as guilt swirled in the pit of her stomach. She tightened her jaw and met Lina's dark eyes.

“Why wouldn’t we run off if this whole trip was lie after lie,” Nellie asked.

“We are not just kids,” Morgan said. “And I don’t say that because of who my father is, before you roll your eyes and think me a spoilt brat. Nellie and I faced a dragon. How many adults in the Auctorita can say the same?”

“A dragon,” Brigitte said, scrunching her face.

Nellie watched each adult in turn with mounting apprehension. Beast was scowling heavily as something seemed to click into place. Brigitte was bemused and shifted uncomfortably while Lina looked the most perplexed—likely never seeing a dragon and only vaguely aware any still existed.

Before anyone had a chance to break the static building in the room, the front door opened, and Xinyi walked in. She froze with all eyes on her (Lina turning stark white) and gave a little yelp. She shrank into her fox form with a faint pop, scrambled over the sandals left in her place, and dashed back out.

Mrs. Wu came shuffling from the kitchen at a surprisingly brisk pace, lamenting after the little fox and waving a biscuit of some sort.

“Xinyi,” Morgan called, hurrying out into the hall, but stopping abruptly with his back foot still visible.

Rhys filled the doorway as Morgan backed up into the apartment. Xinyi in her fox form peeked around at his ankles, sniffing the air while he held out a small, tastefully wrapped box towards Mrs. Wu.

“I remember you liking these the last time I darkened your doorway,” he said politely.

Mrs. Wu gave a bow—Rhys mimicking her—as she took the package. She peered at Xinyi and spoke softly but with reverence to the fox, beckoning her in and holding out the biscuit to further entice her.

“C-Commander,” Brigitte stammered.

Beast and Brigitte looked as if they were facing a ghost. Rhys, for his part, barely acknowledged them outside of a curt nod. He looked instead to Lina.

“Remind me of your name?”

“Wang, sir. …About the huli jing…?”

“She’s been helpful,” Rhys said. “It wouldn't hurt to have her around as an asset. Now then, may I trouble you and Mrs. Wu for some water?”

Rhys’s expression turned steely the moment Lina and Mrs. Wu exited to the kitchen. His eyes snapped to Brigitte and Beast; Brigitte shrank while Beast did his best to draw himself up to his full height—impeded by the low ceilings.

“Why are these children here,” Rhys demanded.

“You daughter–,” Beast started.

“No,” Rhys said sharply. He shook his shaggy head. “No, no, you will not attempt that. You may’ve convinced the children that you were sympathetic to their cause, but I know much better, don’t I?”

It was a slap in the face to hear Rhys demand an answer to his question. Nellie hadn’t had time to ponder why she and Morgan were in China when it was clear that Beast and Brigitte were just keeping them busy. It would have been much easier to laugh them off back at Silas’s compound than to smuggle them into a country with such strict security measures.

Rhys’s eyes narrowed as the seconds ticked on. “What are they doing here?”

“The Regere…,” Brigitte trailed off, her voice small.

“Of course,” Rhys growled. “Am I right assuming Evora was called to gather her child? When is she arriving?”

“Shortly,” Beast said. He stared down at Nellie and Morgan. “She’s ending her Singapore trip early for this. Your childishness could've cost the Auctor–.”

“You will not shift blame on them,” Rhys interrupted coldly. “You are the adult, Beast. You were in command.”

“These are kids, not soldiers,” Beast growled. “Kids don't follow orders.” He sneered. “But, I guess you have no practice.”

Rhys looked less than bothered by the accusation, which irked Nellie. He should’ve been bothered, ashamed, embarrassed, sad, anything except accepting and indifferent.

Her thoughts were halted by Xinyi–still in her girl form–cuddling into her shoulder, trying to get her head pat. She patted her glossy, black hair awkwardly as Morgan side-eyed her with bemusement.

“Xinyi, is it,” Rhys said, redirecting his attention away from Beast. “You've been enormously helpful. Would you like to learn how to be human? Mrs. Wu surely would be very glad to adopt you as a granddaughter.”

“I insist against it, sir,” Lina said, reappearing with a tray of tea. “She’s a huli-jing.”

“That doesn't mean she's bad,” Nellie said. “She saved our lives out there. She didn't have to do that.”

Lina pursed her lips. She focused on handing out the tea.

“Wang, I would appreciate a conversation with you and Mrs. Wu once this mess with the children is handled. If you would indulge me.”

Lina gave a noncommitted grunt as she retreated back into the kitchen. Rhys gave Xinyi a small smile that had the girl beam back. Nellie leaned away from Xinyi as a stab of jealousy shot through her core.

A frantic pounding sounded on the door. It was thrown open before Brigitte even touched the handle, and she only just jumped aside to avoid the metal door smacking into her.

The middle-aged woman bearing a frantic expression on her pointed, tanned face could only have been Evora. Her black hair was starting to unravel from its tight bun; her brown eyes scanned the small room and she immediately thrust herself upon Morgan once they found him.

“Oh! Oh, my baby!” She rapidly placed kisses on every inch of his face while he tried scrambling from her embrace. Her accent thickened on the next “baby boy” and she was no longer speaking English after that.

Amias slid into the apartment with a small roller bag in his fist and a duffle on his shoulder. He looked haggard.

“Amias,” Nellie called, hurrying over to hug him. She shot Rhys a look from her peripherals as she gave her godfather an extra squeeze. “It’s good to see–.”

“Are you insane,” Amias said, grabbing her shoulder to hold her at arm’s length. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed out there, Perenelle! I’ll be telling poor, dear Nathalie all about it. You have me at my word on that!”

“Trying to play the parent; pathetic,” Beast sneered.

“Acting as a proper godfather,” Amias said coldly. “Or just a responsible adult in general. Perhaps, you should consider giving it a try, D’Von, before carting my goddaughter off to China!”

Beast scoffed. “You were more fun when you drank.”

Red blazed across Amias’s face. Nellie pulled away as his grip on her shoulder grew painful.

“Enough of the bickering,” Rhys said, clearly and sharply. He continued on as if oblivious to Evora’s and Amias’s bug-eyed stares and gaping mouths. “Evora, I trust you booked a room? We can speak this evening.” He pushed his way towards the door. “Now, I’ll be outside for the time being.”

The other adults exchanged glances that Nellie didn't care to decipher. She hurried from the apartment before Amias could grab hold again. Xinyi followed closely with wild eyes.

“I'm supposed to chase after him, right,” Nellie asked her.

“Chase,” Xinyi repeated with enthusiasm.

She gave chase at a slow walk, dragging her feet down the flights of stairs. Xinyi mimicked her until her boredom took over. She entertained herself by jumping up and down the steps.

“Shouldn’t he be coming after me,” Nellie asked. “Shouldn’t he be curious about me? Even if just a little bit? I mean… he hasn't seen me in ten years. And, it's not like he was getting any updates either. It's really hard not to think he doesn't care…” Xinyi tilted her head at her. “Human problems, I guess.”

Nellie peeked out into the street; Xinyi doing the same a head below her. Rhys was standing a few short feet from the apartment building entrance, smoking a cigarette and purposely ignoring a short, Chinese man in a business suit similar to Lina’s who was side-eyeing him.

“Rhys. Father.”

“Yeah, but where do I go from there,” Nellie said. “I don’t want this to mean I’m leaving Nathalie. Maybe he feels as stuck too? Like, maybe he’s trying to figure out if he’s supposed to step in now that I found him?”

She teetered a moment before going over to join Rhys. She wrinkled her nose at the cigarette and turned her head away to wave the smoke away.

“It is an unpleasant smell,” Rhys said. He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out. The bureaucrat next to him cleared his throat loudly. “Right. My apologies.” He picked up the squashed butt and tucked it in his pocket. “Evora’s escort; courtesy of the Auctorita’s spy network. Man of few words. Pay him no attention. Something on your mind?”

“Something on my… Are you serious?”

Rhys gave a wry smile. “Which of the many do you wish to start with?”

It was a simple question with a complicated answer. Nellie wanted to know what Rhys was doing in China, which dragons he already investigated and ruled out. She wanted to know if he would be coming back with them; why did he blame the Regere, and would this meeting mean she would have to say goodbye to Nathalie. That was the one she felt most heavily.

She mustered the courage to tell Rhys flat-out that she didn't want to leave Nathalie, but he suddenly went rigid. She switched gears to ask what was wrong, but knew before she had the chance.

An immense pressure bore down on her. The small hairs on her arms and the back of her neck prickled.

The Regere was approaching the apartment building, dressed in a business suit with his dark hair smoothed back.

“Perenelle,” he called upon seeing her. He froze. “Rhys…?”

“Brecken.”

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

Oh man, longest one yet! Wish I could think of some comments, but my exhaustion is peak today. (I'm got to schedule this so that I can hopefully remember to come back and add one, lol.) There was something about Xinyi's clothes. I think it had to do with huli-jing using illusion magic. Like, she wore the dirty shorts (stolen from a laundry basket) and the t-shirt (stolen from a souvienger stand) long enough that she became familiar enough to incorporate them into her image of 'human'. That might've been all...?

Dorian’s face held no expression as he walked down the sleepy residential street alone. The sun had long set by now, and he knew most shops would be closed at this hour. Still, he felt it was worth returning to the medicinal store he had visited earlier in the off-chance the owner may be working late. If not, he would have to delay his delivery another day.

“I should have gone straight there after buying the oil,” he muttered to himself. “I doubt they’re going to hire me again after this. That means I’ll have lost another–”

His sentence was cut short and his visible eye narrowed.

Another set of footsteps was echoing off the rows of houses beside him. They were quick and deliberate; and, although they were still a good distance away, they were rapidly approaching.

He debated turning from the road in the hope the person behind him would pass him by, but he opted to gradually increase his pace to see if the footsteps would follow. 

Unfortunately, they did.

His heart pounding in his chest, Dorian dug his heel in the ground and abruptly spun around.

Mioko skidded to a halt a few feet away, his arms spreading wide beneath his blue cloak to check his balance.

Dorian, at once, exhaled. “...You?”

“Hi,” Mioko replied. “I just wanted to make sure you get what you need.”

His lips pressed tightly together for a moment. “I’ve already told you: I don’t need help.” 

“I know,” Mioko glanced at the ground, “but the medicine store will be closed by now. You know that.”

“And so, you’ve come to bring me to your ‘source’ for the lavender oil?”

“If you’d like me to,” he wrung his hands between the cloak and his back.

Dorian sighed sharply, rolled his eye, and turned around. “All right; fine.” He gestured ahead of them. “Lead the way.”

A light smile lit up Mioko’s freckled face, and he fell into step on Dorian’s left–where his visible eye could have him in his peripheral vision.

As the moonlight peeked out from the clouds overhead, the two young men continued toward the center of town with only the scuffing of their shoes and sandals along the cobblestones filling the space between them. Dorian had no desire for small talk–especially not with someone so keen on inserting himself into his business. Mioko knew by Dorian’s tone and posture he was not in the mood to talk, and he tried to keep his wandering thoughts to himself.

This did not last for long.

“Are you Kalgaran?” Mioko looked at Dorian’s blue hair curiously.

Surprised by the question, Dorian shot him a quick glance before directing his attention back to the road ahead. “Yes,” he answered simply.

At once, the Weivan’s tan eyes lit up. “I knew it! I’ve never met a Kalgaran before.”

“We don’t usually leave Kalgara.”

“So, why are you here?”

Without thinking, Dorian again glanced at Mioko. With an exasperated puff of air through his nose, he again turned away. “I’d like to not answer that question.”

Mioko, at last, also looked back to the road. “Okay.” He said just as lightheartedly as the rest of the conversation had been.

Dorian gave him a mildly curious glance from the corner of his eye, and, thankfully for him, the rest of their trek continued in silence. They passed through one section of Royal Road before crossing a narrow foot-bridge over a canal of flowing water and leaving the bustle far behind. They continued until they reached a second bridge that led to a row of stone-bricked houses covered with vines, and they approached a small gate leading to the second home in the lot. The flickering of the oil lantern on the street cast its glow upon them both as they came to a stop beneath it.

“Mioko, this is someone’s house,” the shorter man glanced at him.

“It is,” he smiled.

With that, he stepped through the gate, up three stone steps, and rapped his knuckles upon the wooden door.

An inaudible voice followed, and soon, with a warm glow behind her, a woman emerged with gray hair pulled back in a bun, long ears on the sides of her head, and a floral dress wrapped around her broad frame.

“Mioko!” She immediately wrapped her arms around him. “You certainly choose the oddest hours to come visit!”

“Sorry, Aunt Sue; I’m helping a friend right now,” his voice was muffled against her shoulder as he weakly gestured behind him.

The woman leaned to one side to see around the tall Weivan.

Dorian, still beside the gate, sheepishly held up a hand. “Ah–hello, ma’am.”

Sue’s smile could have rivalled Mioko’s. “Oh!” She hurried down the steps and met Dorian with grasping hands and cooing words. “I am so glad to see Mioko making friends! I’m Susanna Hildersley–Mioko’s aunt.”

“Dorian Swift,” he replied as if unsure.

“Well met! Now, please–come in! I’ve just put a kettle on!”

Unsure of how else to respond to her hospitality, Dorian simply allowed himself to be whisked inside her home. He was met with the warmth of a deep fireplace and a ceramic kettle hanging from a hook above the coals. A modest kitchen was nestled beside the fireplace, and what little he could see of the sitting room beyond appeared even cozier. Long wooden beams spanned the ceiling across both rooms, and well-worn wooden planks covered the floor.

Sue went straight into the kitchen to start pulling out a container of herbs and tea leaves. “A chamomile blend should be lovely at this time of night,” she said mostly to herself.

Mioko glanced at Dorian, who was still somewhat taken aback by the whole situation. “We can’t stay too long,” he took a small step forward. “Mostly, Dorian is needing some lavender oil.”

“I will gladly purchase it from you,” Dorian interjected before the Weivan woman could answer.

Sue, however, beamed another smile and waved him off. “Not to worry, young man, I have plenty!”

“But…” 

“A friend of Mioko will always receive what he needs.”

Dorian chewed on his lip and watched Sue set down the tea, cross the kitchen, and disappear behind a beaded curtain at the far end. He jumped when Mioko’s face leaned into his line of sight.

“Come see!” He said excitedly.

Dorian, again, had no choice but to follow. Slipping through the beaded curtain, he passed through a small wash room before exiting the back of the home with Mioko and Sue. He was instantly met with the yellow, diffused glow of a modest greenhouse at the far end of the small backyard.

Once he stepped inside, he found himself unable to take another step. His wide eye simply scanned the rows of shelves that lined the room–absolutely filled with plants, herbs, bottles, and jars of every kind. Tall vines stretched from generous pots on the floor and spread over the ceiling; jars of oils and salves glistened in the lamplight; bundles of drying flowers hung from the rafters, and healthy sprigs of lavender grew from a collection of pots below. The air was heavy and smelled as much like a greenhouse as it did a beautiful spring garden, and the foggy glass that surrounded them would have let in a dazzling amount of daylight if it wasn’t past sundown.

“You… you’re a potioneer?” Dorian could hardly speak from amazement.

“I prefer to call myself an ‘herbalist,’” Sue smiled as she reappeared from behind a small shelf near the back of the room. In her hands was a flask of amber-colored liquid. “How much do you need?”

“Oh–just,” his fingers formed the top and bottom dimensions of the flask he once had, “a small flask is plenty. I may have some spare bottles–if they aren’t all broken.”

Sue again waved her hand before Dorian could sling his backpack to his front to look inside. “No worries, dear; I have plenty of flasks too.” With that, she uncorked two small flasks and filled them each with the amber oil. 

The smell of the lavender saturated the room in the process, and the young man closed his eye as he breathed it in. “That’s the purest lavender oil I’ve ever smelled,” he muttered.

“Aunt Sue grows the best lavender in town,” Mioko offered proudly as he rocked on his feet.

The woman, however, only smiled and shook her head as she carried over the two flasks. “I am simply passionate about what I grow. I may have never had human children, but I have raised many hearty herbs in my time.”

The hint of a smile tugged at Dorian’s lips as he accepted the flasks. “I need to repay you somehow.”

“You’re a friend of Mioko’s,” she smiled. “That’s all the payment I need.”

His smile faded somewhat shamefully, eying the contented young man beside him. “I could stand to be better.”

With that, the three returned to the house to the sound of the kettle whistling loudly. Sue quickly scuffled across the room to the fireplace and used a nearby rag to remove the kettle from the coals. “Are you sure I can’t interest you boys in some tea before you leave?” She glanced at them as she carried the kettle to a ceramic plate on the counter.

“No, thank you; I need to finish my delivery.” Dorian lifted one of the two small flasks.

“Dorian is a potioneer,” Mioko commented.

“Ah! Then, perhaps I’ll see you again.”

A grin tugged at Dorian’s lips. “Perhaps–but I will insist on paying you next time.”

“We’ll see,” the Weivan woman smiled wide and followed the two young men to the door. As Dorian started down the stone steps, she turned to her nephew and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Will you be staying here tonight, Mioko?”

“No; I’ll be heading on a journey with our other friends in the morning.”

“Oh!” She once again seemed surprised. “Where to?”

“Montrose–then into the mountains to find a dracleon!”

Sue’s chuckle was as much nervous as it was dismissive. “Well, come back in one piece, all right?” She fingered the yellow crystal around his neck before laying it gently upon his chest with a light pat of her hand. She then leaned around him to again find Dorian lingering near her gate. “Keep an eye on him, will you? He can get a little… distracted.”

Mioko cocked an eyebrow and frowned, but he made no attempt to correct her.

Dorian simply smirked as he nodded his head. “Thank you, Ms. Hildersley.”

“You are always welcome, Mr. Swift!”

The gate was closed with a small creak, and the two young men heard Sue’s door close lightly behind them.

The smirk narrowed on Dorian’s face. “You didn’t tell me your source was your aunt.”

“You didn’t ask,” Mioko replied matter-of-factly.

He huffed a short laugh. “Fair enough. Well, I do appreciate the help,” he paused, “even if I didn’t think I needed it.”

The Weivan shrugged with a light smile.

“I’ll see you around, then,” the Kalgaran took one step toward the street.

“Are you coming with us to Montrose in the morning?” Mioko took a step closer, eyeing the staff strapped to Dorian’s back as the young man pulled his backpack to his front to store the vials of oil inside.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” he glanced at him.

“Oh.” Despite the shortness of the word, the disappointment within Mioko’s voice was more than apparent.

Dorian frowned and slung his bag to his back. “Look; you’ve been very kind, and I appreciate that you already consider me a friend–considering–but, I really don’t want to get involved in this whole curse-breaking thing. I have enough to do to keep myself afloat these days.”

Mioko again closed the gap Dorian attempted to make by taking another step. “You wouldn’t want to see Prince Ignarathos? You wouldn’t want to see the sword of legend?”

Dorian half-smiled. “No.”

The Weivan’s brows furrowed. “But… the adventure–and the discovery–and helping someone in need–”

Both eyes darted to the street, almost in unison.

A black wolf froze mid-step, its ears high on its head with eyes wide. The faintest gleam of silver glint within them before it turned its head and ran.

Dorian’s brows were low, as if thinking, as his eye followed the trail of the wolf.

“We could use your help,” Mioko returned to the conversation. “You’re a warrior and a potioneer.”

“No,” he repeated more firmly, “but I do wish you and the others well on your journey.” Dorian gave a short bow and turned around completely this time. As he started away, he was prepared to hear Mioko’s sandaled feet following after him. When he didn’t, he bit his lip and continued walking away in silence.

Mioko remained at his aunt’s gate, watching Dorian disappear over the stone foot bridge at the end of the road. Once he had allowed for ample distance between them, he sighed lightly, crossed the bridge, and started back to Ben’s house at a leisurely pace.

The moon’s light ebbed between the rolling clouds, leaving only the flickering lanterns overhead to light much of the way. He wandered slowly through the empty streets for quite some time, and he only came to a stop when he caught sight of a black cat darting into a shadowy alley. He curiously tried to look after where it had run, but he lost its trail in the darkness.

“Hm,” he hummed aloud, lingering at the edge of the alley. The moonlight peeked out long enough to light up an overgrown patch of weeds springing up between the broken cobblestone. As the light faded back into shadow, he shrugged and turned back to the road.

A strike to the side of his neck dropped him to his knees as his vision blacked out.

A furred, humanoid creature seemed to rise from the shadows themselves, and it took a wide stance over the currently incapacitated sorcerer. Delicate fingers emerged from the deep black fur, flipping away the corners of his cloak as they searched his fallen frame for valuables. Then, they paused and hovered over the faintly glowing yellow crystal around his neck.

The fur faded from the creature’s face, revealing the features of a pale-skinned young woman from among the dark black hair. Her rosy lips tugged into a smile, revealing a pointed canine tooth.

She gave a heavy tug on the crystal in an attempt to break the chain, but this only caused the man to groan as his eyes flickered back into consciousness.

Within a dizzying blur of sound and shapes, Mioko could just barely make out a feminine face hovering over him.

“Stop!!”

The woman’s silver eyes darted up, glinting in the lamp light, as a blue-haired young man rushed at her with a staff in hand.

She released the gemstone and immediately leapt into the shadows, returning to her catlike form just as Dorian swung the staff in a wide circle. He clipped the cat’s back leg, producing a sharp yowl before a flurry of feathers shot up from the alley and disappeared beyond the rooftops.

“An Amorfian!” Dorian growled through his teeth, his posture still lowered in defense.

Mioko huffed a groan and limply tossed his hand against his chest. When his fingers did not immediately find his crystal, he gasped and scrambled to a seated position–where he felt the crystal slip behind his back into his shirt collar. He reached around his neck to grasp it within his fingers, and, at once, released a long sigh that closed his eyes and slumped his entire form.

“She nearly took that,” Dorian’s voice came, reminding the Weivan he was not alone.

“Dorian,” his tan eyes blinked open as he dropped the crystal back upon his chest. “Oh–thank you–I–I don’t know what–”

“Don’t worry about it,” he crouched and reached out his hand.

He bit his lip and took it, and he accepted the stocky young man’s strength to pull him back to his feet. A short wave of dizziness sent him staggering into a nearby wall, and he meekly glanced at Dorian.

Chewing his lip, Dorian again extended his hand.

“Come on; we’ll go to Ben’s together.”

-----

I am *actually* working on the Tale of Ace Gallagher Book 1 (!!) and a lot has been changing along the way. It's kind of fun because it's similar enough that I know where it's going, but it's different enough that I'm writing a lot of new content to get there. This is one of those scenes.

In the original story, Dorian and Mioko go to a library to research the Sword of Ignarathos, but now that Ace is well versed in the lore (the new opening chapter) and they get the rest of the story from Ben about Tier, they don't need to do that. But in an effort to make their meeting and teaming up more realistic, Dorian actually has no desire to team up at first. He's there because Ace breaks an expensive potion ingredient when he runs into him (lol) and once Ace pays up, he leaves. Mioko, however, has other plans for him 😁

Speaking of Mioko, I was surprised to find him so much more... carefree at this point in the story, lol. He's always been pretty chill and content overall, but knowing how much things in later stories affect him, I guess I forgot he starts off pretty happy-go-lucky.

Dorian is a bit more crass and dismissive than I remember him starting off as, but obviously he ends up fitting right in among the rest of them (and now, maybe thanks more to Mioko). After all, they literally just met hours before this 😅

Also Raeya making her striking entrance... 😆 Still not sure if I want to go the more realistic route of her not having clothes if she's been shifting forms or just have "otherwise unexplainable don't pay attention to this aspect" clothing when she's in human form... still on realistic right now so we'll see, heh.