Roar of Dragons

[Xander – 12 years]

"Xander?" Mr. Trey asks as he looks down at me.

He's still in his pajamas, but that's normal. I was expecting him to come out fully dressed since today's a holiday. I'm still in my pajamas, though, since I wasn't told to get dressed before coming down for today. That probably should have been a sign it wasn't necessary, but I am still stupid, even if my brain's been fixed.

It doesn't seem like Mr. Trey's annoyed, either. Yesterday, after I told him everything I learned about myself, he was surprised. He also admitted that he had a suspicion that it might have been something like that, which was part of why he wanted to talk with my great-grandpa. If I really did have some sort of magic keeping me alive, and from such severe brain damage, he felt it would be best if a real expert in magic took a look to try and help me.

And that led him to realize that I probably was one of my great-grandpa's descendants.

"Good morning, Mr. Trey," I greet him.

"You're spread out on the living room floor again."

"I'm sorry."

"You're not in trouble," he says. "I'm just surprised… it's quite early. I know you're normally awake by now, but you usually wait in your room until it's time to come down so you can be at the table at almost exactly seven."

"Am I not in trouble for that, too?"

"You're not," he says. "Are you okay?"

"That depends on various things," I say. "So I can't really answer that question without more information."

"Mind if I ask what you're thinking about?"

"No."

Wait. This is one of those times where he's asking me about what I'm thinking about, and it's okay to say I don't want him to if I don't.

"Breakfast," I add.

"Breakfast?"

"Breakfast."

"What about it?"

"Well," I say. "It's a holiday, right? At the boys' home, they always try to theme the breakfast to it. Cheap decorations and some food dyes to alter colors, like making blue or green pancakes. Some of the other boys got to help make the dyes. It was one of the things the home would splurge on, to celebrate."

The colors for Interception Day are blue, green, and gold. Blue and green to represent the seas and forests and plains of the world, and gold to represent our sun. The world that was saved by the interception of the demon army. It's not like Memorial Day or Labor Day, where the colors are our nation's of red, white, and blue, even if it's a national holiday. I don't really understand it, just that it has something to do with how it might have been our nation (and Canada) that did it, but that doing so also saved the world itself.

"You were wondering if we were going to do something?" Mr. Trey asks.

"Yeah," I answer. "But then I remembered that Ms. Katie is probably off today, because it's a holiday, right? So then I was thinking that maybe it would be something store-bought instead. Like from Ms. Heidi's donut shop. She does green, blue, and gold incing on some of the donuts for Interception Day. Oh. And sprinkles."

"Katie's going to make breakfast," Mr. Trey tells me. "She has the rest of the day off, though. What sounded good to you?"

"I was thinking about blueberry-banana muffins with chopped walnuts on them," I say. "And then green icing. But we don't have bananas good for that and I don't know how to accelerate time like Greyson does."

Mr. Trey sits down beside me, frowning slightly.

"I'm sorry."

"You're not in trouble," he snorts. "Xander, you've been adamant about not wanting to learn magic because you're worried about being milked for money. That comment made it sound like you'd be okay with learning how to accelerate time."

"It still makes me nervous," I tell him. "But… Greyson is scared of Grandpa Adrian, and he also says that Grandpa Adrian doesn't like people messing with his descendants. So while I'm scared, I also know that Grandpa Adrian will probably smite anyone who tries to milk me for money. Also, if I'm really stronger than Greyson, which he claims I am by about ten percent, then once I learn magic, I could probably also smite anyone who tries to milk me for money. Also teleport away."

Mr. Trey is quiet for a few moments with a small frown.

"Sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he says. "You said yesterday that the reason you struggle with casting magic is because of the spells you're subconsciously supporting, right? That it takes up your casting ability?"

"Right," I say. "Though it probably won't be as hard for me to learn now. Look. Um. Actually. Please hold on for a moment."

I sit myself up and then look at the coffee table, which has some books and a box of tissues and a small pot with a plant on it. Then, I inhale deeply and focus on one of the books, which opens up and starts flipping pages.

"Telekinesis?" Mr. Trey asks. "You've figured out telekinesis? Wouldn't it still be hard to use, though?"

"It's not telekinesis," I tell him. "It's the animation spell that I subconsciously use to move my body when it doesn't want to move. I was trying to sense the spells and turn them off and found that one. So now I'm burning less mana each moment than I was before. Except when I'm casting that spell, but I think I figured out how to use less mana for it, too. And it's freed up some of my casting ability, too."

The pages start flipping back in reverse order and once they're all stacked again, the cover closes.

"Also," I say. "I found the spell that lets my body grow as normal. Since my brain is fixed up again, I don't think I need that spell, so I turned it off. That's more mana that's not being burned each moment. I can even feel myself regenerating it. There's so little… but then again, it's probably 'cause I regenerate so much and can hold so much. It's like… it's like… um… a cup compared to a huge pond. It's only a small amount each second, but it's about half as much as a normal person can hold. At least, according to the dork. If I'm remembering correctly. Of course, since some of my mana is used up to maintain other spells, I don't actually get to keep all of the mana I recover. But I'm recovering some for sure."

"I… see," he says. "Did you find any other spells?"

"Yeah," I scoot so I'm facing him rather than the coffee table. "Possibly unrelated, if someone has super regeneration, is it possible they would need glasses? Or would that be impossible?"

"Depends on the cause," Mr. Trey snorts. "If it's damage-caused, then probably not for more than a short while as their eyes would heal. However, a more normal cause of needing glasses is the shape of one's eyes. I don't remember the full explanation, but I do know that needing glasses is normally caused by the shape of one's eyes. That probably wouldn't count as damage."

"Ah."

I don't know what to say next and so remain silent as I try to figure out what to say. Mr. Trey is the one who breaks the silence, after seven seconds.

"Xander," he says. "Do you need glasses?"

"Well, need is probably not the right word," I say. "Do glasses make everything clear to see?"

"If the prescription is right."

"Hm…" I think for a few moments, then lean back so I end up lying down again, and stretch out my arms and legs. "Another spell I found changes my vision. But it doesn't make everything clear. I actually found it first. It was just focused on my eyes and after I turned it off, everything got blurrier."

"Blurrier?"

"Yeah," I nod. "See, I thought that puberty was the reason my vision got all wonky, 'cause I started it when I was, like, nine and my vision started getting odd when I was ten. I thought it was just normal and that's how people see stuff as they go through puberty and after since I'd heard that people's vision gets blurry as they age. It's like, um… it's hard to describe. But it's like everything is clear but blurry at the same time. As it turns out, I had a second version of sight active and it was o-over-inter-"

"Overlapping?" Mr. Trey asks. "Overlaid? Interposed? Superimposed?"

"Yeah," I nod. "I just thought it was normal. But it was apparently because of a spell. And when I turn it off, poof! Things are blurry. But only after a bit of a distance. So if I hold my hand up like this," I hold my right hand up, my arm stretched as far as it can go. "It's a little bit blurry, but not as blurry as, like your face. You're a bit further than my hand."

I drop my hand back down to the ground.

"So I think I should wear glasses until I can figure out if there's a way to fix my eyes. Or to make the magic eyesight override my normal one."

"Okay," he says. "By the way, I have a good surprise you."

He's specifying it's a good one, which means he wants to make sure I know I'm not in trouble or getting sent back to the home as the surprise.

"It's a good one?" I look in his eyes.

"It is."

"Okay," I sit up. "Can I ask what it is? Or is it too early?"

His phone beeps, and he pulls it out of his pajama pants' pocket and checks it.

"The surprise is here," he says. "Come on."

He stands, so I stand and follow him. Mr. Trey takes me to the front doors and when he opens it, Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell are on the other side. Grandpa Caldwell is holding a paper shopping bag for some reason.

"Hello, Xander!" Grandma Caldwell greets me. "How are you?"

"Hungry," I answer. "But it's not time for breakfast yet. How are you?"

"I'm doing alright," she chuckles.

"Come on in," Mr. Trey tells his parents, and we move to the side so they can enter. "Did you bring the thing I asked for?"

"In the bag," Grandpa Caldwell answers.

"Good morning," Ms. Katie approaches us, having just come downstairs.

"Hello, Katie," Grandpa Caldwell offers her the bag. "Trey wanted us to grab something on the way in, he said you knew?"

"Oh, yes," she takes the bag. "Xander? Want to come to the kitchen and help me make breakfast?"

"Is that okay?" I look up at Mr. Trey.

"Yes," Mr. Trey tells me. "Do you still have the vision thing off?"

"I do."

"You can use it if you want," he tells me. "Since it seems to help a little."

"Okay."

"Vision thing?" Grandma Caldwell asks.

"Is it okay if I tell my parents?" Mr. Trey asks.

Why ask me that? It's not like I can stop him.

"Do you mind if I tell my parents?" Mr. Trey changes the question.

"Oh," I say. "Um… maybe? If they won't try to milk me."

What should be the first spell I learn to defend myself with?

"They won't," he chuckles. "Go on and help Katie with breakfast."

"Okay."

I follow Ms. Katie to the kitchen and when we arrive, she pulls ripe bananas out of the bag.

"Ripe bananas?" I look at them, a little confused by that.

Did Mr. Trey tell his parents weeks ago to set bananas aside to ripen for this?

"There are places which sell them ripened up for baking," Ms. Katie tells me. "Trey asked his parents if they'd buy some on their way in so we could do banana muffins for breakfast."

"Oh," I say. "They really have places that sell them?"

"They do," she says.

"What if they don't sell all of them before they go from properly ripe to bad?"

"They use what doesn't get sold to bake goods," she tells me. "These ones are bananas grown in an area rich with mana, so they're magic bananas. We're doing a special breakfast for the holiday."

Ms. Katie has me pull on my apron and wash my hands while she does the same with her apron and hands, then we start making breakfast. It's blueberry-banana muffins with chopped walnuts on top, sausage links, eggs, and a salad of green grapes, blue grapes, kiwi, and blueberries. I get to measure and mix stuff and pour the muffin batter into the baking tin, and I even get to peel and slice the kiwis.

It's the first time she's let me cut stuff fully by myself, and I make sure to do my best to be careful so that I don't cut myself or make the pieces uneven.

"Xander," Mr. Trey says after we finish eating. "Are you wanting to go to the barbecue at Connor's house?"

"You have plans, don't you?"

"I'm going to a higher-end party, yes," he says. "But it's going to be filled with a lot of wealthy people and their children. It will be pretty crowded and probably noisy. And I'm sure you'd be bored there even if it wasn't."

"So it's okay for me to go to Connor's house for the barbecue?"

"It is," he says.

"Oh," I say. "Um… yes, please."

"Alright," he says. "It might be a bit crowded and noisy there, too. If you need to take a few minutes to calm down, I'm sure they'll understand and let you go to a quiet room. If things are too much and you want to leave, Quinn will be nearby so you can ask him to pick you up. And if you want to go to Greyson's workshop after, you're welcome to. If you want to go bowling tonight as well, you can still go. I checked and they're still open."

"S.G. and them might ask if I want to spend the night," I tell him. "S.G.'s aunt moved into a new house yesterday, and the others are all spending the night there tonight and will be helping clean up the backyard tomorrow. S.G. was painting yesterday. He uploaded pictures to the group chat."

"You're wanting to know if you can spend the night?"

"Y-yeah," I nod. "I know you've told me before I could if I wanted to, but that was for past ones. And today's a holiday. And I have classes tomorrow."

"You can skip classes tomorrow if you want," Mr. Trey says. "If they ask you if you want to spend the night tonight, you can."

"Okay," I say. "They haven't asked me specifically, but S.G. asked in the group chat yesterday if anyone wanted to spend the night. So I think that includes me, but I'm not sure."

Mr. Trey snorts.

"Why don't you go do your thing," he tells me. "And get ready to go. Pack whatever you want to pack for the day, including for the sleepover if you decide you want to go."

"I want to try and brave it."

"Okay," Mr. Trey says. "And remember that you can call or text any of us to come pick you up if you want."

"Okay."

"Go on," he says.

"Okay," I say. "Hi again, Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell."

I head up to the bedroom I'm staying in and pack my old backpack and my three new ones, just in case. Mr. Trey made it sound like we're leaving soon. Since I probably will end up going to Greyson's workshop, I want to bring the new backpacks so I can try and enchant them to have bigger spaces.

When I return downstairs, Mr. Trey and Ms. Katie are both dressed, though Mr. Trey is dressed and ready to go, and Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell look ready to go, too.

It's probably a good thing I brought down all four backpacks.

"There's an eyewear place that's open this morning," Mr. Trey tells me as we get into his SUV, with me getting to sit in the front passenger seat so that Grandpa and Grandma Caldwell can sit together in the back. "And they use magitech to make the glasses quickly. We'll head there so you can get glasses quickly, okay, Xander?"

"Okay," I say.

It feels weird, sitting in the front seat. I'm not supposed to since I'm under thirteen, but Mr. Trey says that there's no law forbidding a twelve-year-old from sitting in the front here. At least, not one in this state.

When we reach the eye place, there are only two other cars in the parking lot, and only one person in the lobby, a woman sitting behind a desk. Lots of glasses sit in displays along the walls and in the middle of the left side of the room, though there aren't any on the front wall or by the desks against the wall immediately to the right when we enter.

"Hello," Mr. Trey greets the woman, who's at the big desk in front of the front wall. "My name is Trey Caldwell, I called a little bit ago about making an appointment."

"Yes," she picks up a clipboard. "If you can just fill out the information on here, we can get that put in and the appointment started."

"Go ahead and look at the glasses," Mr. Trey tells me. "See if there are any you like the look of, and it's okay to like several pairs. Take a look at the sunglasses, too. Once you've picked them out, we can narrow them down to the ones you'll be getting. And Xander?"

"Yes, Mr. Trey?"

"Don't worry about the price tag," he says. "The insurance plan I put you on will cover both a pair of regular glasses, a pair of sunglasses, and a pair of spares for each. So we aren't paying a penny."

"Isn't that stealing?"

"No," the employee tells me. "Insurance is something someone pays into every month, and it helps cover certain expenses as needed. Medical insurance plans can cover vision and dental plans. Instead of billing your dad, we'll bill the insurance company and they'll cover the cost."

"It's a little more nuanced than that," Mr. Trey tells me. "But that's the simple version."

"Oh."

"Depending on the plan," the employee looks at Mr. Trey. "It might also cover prescription swim goggles."

"It does," Mr. Trey looks at me. "Forgot about that one, Xander. You can also look at swim goggles if you want. I'm going to fill this out now."

"If you want some help," the employee tells me. "Just let me know. You can try on any of the glasses if you want, but don't put them back on the racks. See that desk there?"

She points at a desk, and I nod.

"Put all of the ones you try on there," she tells me. "And the ones you're thinking about getting can be put there as well, just keep them separate, alright?"

Why does she want me to put them all there?

"You can ask her," Mr. Trey nudges my arm, causing me to flinch. "Sorry, bud. You can ask her."

"You've got a question?" The employee asks.

"Um… why do you want me to put all of the ones I try there?" I ask. "Not just the ones I want to think about getting? Can I put them back on the racks?"

"We sanitize them to ensure they're clean for the next customer," she tells me.

"Oh," I say. "Okay."

"Go on and look at the glasses," Mr. Trey tells me.

"Are you okay with us helping you?" Grandpa Caldwell asks.

"Um… maybe."

I look for the section labeled Youth, then start looking at the glasses. Grandma and Grandpa Caldwell pick out a few pairs for me to try, but I don't really like those ones even before I try them on. A couple of pairs I try on, I do like. One has a fully plastic frame, while the other one has plastic legs, but metal for the parts around the lenses and to connect them together.

Before I can finish looking at the glasses for youth, they're ready for the exam itself. The start for it involves me sitting in a dim room with another employee, who first uses a machine to puff air into each eye.

"Ready?" She asks while my left eye is the one focused on. "Three… two… one."

Puff!

My head jerks back when that happens and I blink a few times, then shake my head. Time for the right eye. She puffs that one, too, and I still jerk back in response.

For the next part, I have to put my head up to another machine and light is shined into each eye. It's really hard not to pull my head back once that starts for the left eye, and I have to put up with it for my right eye, too. Then, she has me look at a picture of a barn through another machine, once for each eye. Identify colors and let her know what I can see in the color field. This one's to test for color blindness. After that, I have to tell her where dots are located when looking into a machine.

After that, I have to sit in another room with another person, who's apparently the actual eye doctor. He puts a big device up against my head and then starts flipping through lenses. As he does that, I have to tell him which one is clear between two choices. He does this first for my left eye for a bit, then for my right eye. Then, he does it for both eyes, but the choices on this one are more like the later choices for the individual eyes, which are more clear to me.

"Okay," he says as he flips a switch on something, and rows of letters in decreasing size as they go down the sign appears. "Read the second row?"

I read the second row, then the fifth, then the fourth, then the first, then the third, then the sixth, then the seventh.

"Alright," the eye doctor says. "We're done with the exam."

"Okay."

I walk with him and Mr. Caldwell out to the front, and start looking at more glasses options. I don't really see others that interest me as much as the two I picked before the exam, so I move on to the swim goggles. They have MountainStorm Gear swim goggles, including a pair with dark green frames and strap and the logo in black, and black frames and straps with the logo in bright green.

"You want these ones?" Mr. Trey asks after I try them on, and I nod. "Alright. Let's look at sunglasses now."

We go to the section with sunglasses for youth, and they have MountainStorm Gear ones in a lot of styles. I like the ones with the black and green frames and the dark green and light green frames. They look really cool.

"Aren't sunglasses for cool people?" I ask Mr. Trey.

"Not just cool people," he says as his parents chuckle. "They help protect your eyes from the sun and make it easier to see in bright light. Let's take these to the desk so I can pay."

"Okay."

We go to the desk that I was to take the glasses I want to, where the first employee is sitting. There's a lot of stuff involved in this part, including measuring my eyes to make sure that the lenses are made properly, in case my eyes are a different distance apart from normal.

"You said on the phone you make them on-site?" Mr. Trey asks once everything for this part is done.

"Yes," the employee tells us. "We can have them ready in about an hour and will call you when they're done, so you don't need to stay here and wait."

They can make two pairs of glasses, two pairs of sunglasses, and two pairs of swim goggles in about an hour? That's a lot faster than I was expecting.

"Okay," Mr. Trey says. "Thanks. We'll go take a look at some of the nearby shops."

"Mr. Trey?" I ask as we get up.

"Yes, Xander?"

"Do you think the ice cream shop down the road is open?"

"We can check," he chuckles.

[Greyson – 10 years] → starts around the beginning of Xander's PoV

"Greyson," Travis groans. "Stop poking me and let me sleep."

"Meet me in the bathroom."

"No."

"It's so I can dye your hair," I tell him. "We'll be in the tub so be prepared for that."

Travis groans again, then I teleport into the tub and make sure I have everything prepared. Swim trunks on, shampoo/conditioner combo ready, dye set up… perfect! No one messed with anything while I was waking Travis.

After a couple of minutes, Travis comes into the bathroom wearing a pair of swim trunks, then climbs into the bath tub and sits in front of me.

"Don't make the water too hot this time," he says. "You did that for Memorial Day."

"Sorry."

I start to conjure water and before I use it to clean his hair, I decide that it might be best to test the temperature on him first.

"Is this too hot?" I touch some of the water to his right shoulder for a few seconds.

"A little."

"How about now?" I move the water down so it's touching a spot that wasn't already heated up by the first test.

"That's fine."

"Okay."

I clean his hair with the shampoo-conditioner combo and conjured water, making sure to rinse it clean. Some dyes want you to do it with hair that hasn't been washed in a day or two, but I don't use such stupid, mundane dyes. The ones I use, I make myself and they work better with clean hair.

They're also temporary dye. Got into trouble for using more permanent dyes for holiday hair in the past. I might have forgotten that the others cannot simply eliminate the dye from their hair like I can. That required reformulating the dye so that it still comes out looking as good, but can also be washed out with normal shampoo.

Mine is already dyed, the hair on top brushed to the right and dyed in three strips, with the front third blue, the middle third gold, and the last third green. Travis prefers to have his hair brushed up into a mini-mohawk for this, so I do the left half green, the right-half blue, and the tips gold.

"You didn't make any funny drawings on my back again, did you?" Travis asks as I flow water over him to get the dye water off of everything but his hair. "I felt you drawing."

"With my finger, not with dye or magic," I say. "So there are no markings. And they weren't funny. I was drawing a griffin."

"Oh," he's quiet for a moment. "Greyson?"

"Yes?"

"The water is lingering on my sides too much," he says. "You stopped everywhere else. And it's rippling. Are you trying to tickle me with the water?"

"It's not working, is it?"

"It's not."

One day, I will figure out how to properly tickle Travis. Then, I will have revenge for all of the tickling he gave me when we were littler.

"Am I done?" Travis asks.

"Yeah," I answer. "I already did Cal's, too, so that's all of us."

"What about Henry?"

"He's not being let off the grounding."

Henry got super grounded yesterday because of what he said to Papa after his therapy appointment. For two whole weeks, he's not allowed to go out, play video games, watch TV, get on his computer, get on his phone, have friends over (as if he has any), or anything like that. Just chores, reading, and academic worksheets. The most he's ever been given is one week of grounding so he really screwed up.

"Besides," I say. "I never dye his hair. He's too much of a brat to me."

"You're a brat, too," Travis says.

"But I'm not a jerk," I poke him in the sides. "Get up, I need to put my stuff away, then I'm going to the festival."

"Isn't it, like, six-twenty in the morning?" He asks as he gets out of the tub.

"Well, yeah," I say. "But some of them are already open on the east coast since some of those ones opened up at eight."

"Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

"I made myself pancakes and sausages and bacon and eggs and donuts," I tell him. "I think Dad's going to start cooking soon since we're all up except for Henry."

"And how many of us were woken by you?"

"Everyone except Henry and myself."

Travis shakes his head as he leaves the room, and I clean up my stuff and return to my room to change. For the holiday, I wear blue shorts with golden stripes down the sides, a green sleeveless shirt with golden stripes down the sides, and blue-and-green sneakers with golden laces. Then, I slip on sunglasses, grab my wallet, phone, keys, and backpack, and head to the kitchen, where Dad and Papa are talking while Cal and Travis are talking in the living room.

"I'm heading to the fair," I tell Dad and Papa.

"Don't get into any trouble," Dad tells me.

"And no breaking the law!" Papa adds.

"I have zero intention of doing either of those," I tell them. "Today is a holiday and there are fairs to attend."

I teleport to my first fair of the day, straight to the ticket desk. There's already a small line formed, so I go to the end and wait until it's my turn.

"How many tickets would you like?" The woman whose station I reach asks.

"I would like to buy the bracelet," I tell her as I put a $50 on the table, then I put another down. "And as many tickets as the change will allow."

"Okay," she seems a little surprised, but takes both bills and sets them on top of her cash box before grabbing a bracelet and counting out tickets. "Here you go."

The bracelet is green, while the tickets are blue. I put the former on around my right wrist as she puts the cash in the cash box, then I slip the tickets into my left pocket and enter the fair. My first destination is the Ferris wheel. With how few people are here right now, it's easy for me to get on it quickly.

This is a high-quality magitech Ferris wheel, but it doesn't go as fast as I wish it would. It's still fun, though, and I get off feeling bouncy so I bounce a little as I walk. I ride on a few more of the rides set up, then get some funnel cake with powdered sugar and strawberries on top and eat it as I look at the different game booths.

They have a darts game for throwing darts to pop balloons, and that seems fun. There's another boy there already, just starting his turn. He's got brown hair, blue eyes, and some freckles on his cheeks. An ordinary-looking kid dressed in blue shorts and a green sleeveless, from the same brand I'm wearing.

He's got good tastes, but he's not ordinary when considering how powerful he is. On the ordinary scale of magic, he's got 317 units of mana. If the man and woman watching him are his parents, then he didn't inherit that from them because they have more normal levels of mana.

The man's recording the other boy, who has a camera hanging from a strap around his neck.

I watch as the boy throws his first dart, and it misses the balloon he was aiming for, bouncing off the board the balloons are taped to. His second one misses as well, and I realize that he might not have been aiming for the blue one the first dart landed near, as this one is close to a golden one. Each balloon color has a different pool of prizes, with the exact prize determined by a tag inside of the balloon.

The golden balloons have tags for stuffed animals. Maybe I should try and get one for Xander? He likes plushies and there's only a 0.0041% chance of him going to a fair today. The most likely reason for him to attend that I can think of would be to get food, but even that's an extremely low chance.

There are other, less-crowded places to go for food. Yeah. I should try and win him a plushie so that he can have something from a fair.

One of the plushies that's a potential prize for this stall is a winter bear one, and I think he'd like that. I still need to determine the best way to apologize to him for not realizing he was unaware of the spells he was casting, too.

Cody – that's what the other boy's parents call him – finishes throwing his three darts, but fails to succeed in popping a balloon, then it's my turn.

"Here's a ticket," I hand it to the woman working the booth. "It's three darts, right?"

"Per ticket, yes," she says. "Take any three you want."

I pick out three yellow darts, then step to the side. The other boy is watching, probably wanting another turn.

This wouldn't be fun if I do it with magic, so I avoid doing that and make sure to hold back my strength as well. I learned the hard way that I can break both the cheap darts and the boards the balloons are stuck to if I don't.

My first dart misses the golden balloon I aimed at, and my second one bounces off of it. I've adjusted to the feel of the darts, though, and manage to pop the balloon on my third try.

"Yes!" I pump my fists into the air, then lean over the counter to try and see the tag, but it's upside-down. "What's the tag?"

"Let me check," the worker tells me, then picks it up and examines it. "It's for an octopus plush."

Ooh! Travis likes octopuses! I can give him this.

"Hey, hey!" Cody exclaims. "That was pretty cool!"

"Thanks," I say. "Are you going to try again?"

"Yeah," he nods, then grabs his camera. "Can I take a picture of you and the octopus?"

"How come?"

"I like taking pictures of cool things."

Maybe he works for the Faction?

"Do you work for the Faction?"

"What's that?" He asks.

"A secret organization of evil people who want to stop me from making the world a better place."

"I'm ten."

"They might start 'em young."

Cody stares at me for a few moments.

"You're a bit of a dork, aren't you?"

"Xander agrees with that statement."

"Who's Xander?"

"One of my second-cousins," I say. "Sure, you can take a picture."

As his confusion was genuine, he's probably not a member of the Faction.

Cody takes a picture with his camera, then shows it to me. He's really good at this.

"Do you want to be a photographer?" I ask.

"I just like doing it," he says. "And writing articles on stuff. My last one was on magic butterflies. But what I really like is light, air, and force magics. Want to play the games together?"

While this will be no more than a one-day friendship, I love playing games and it's always more fun to challenge myself against another at these things. The fact that it's another kid only makes it more fun.

"Okay," I say. "Are you going to try again?"

I definitely want to, so I can get that bear for Xander.

"Yeah!" He nods enthusiastically. "I want to get the luminous bear plush!"