Roar of Dragons

[Sig – 13 years]

"YAAAAAAH!" I yell as I jump off of the platform.

I tuck my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them as I close my eyes, then land in the pile of leaves and sink down. My body bounces a little once maximum leaf compression is reached, then I uncurl myself, causing me to spring up a little. This time doing that causes my head to poke out of the leaf pile, and I stick my tongue out at Tate, who smacks leaves at me.

As we throw and smack leaves towards each other, I notice the leaves which left the pile beginning to gather up together. This isn't the first time that's happened, and I know that resisting will lead me nowhere.

I still need to try, though.

"Oh, no!" I exclaim as I start creating a shield of wind in front of me. "Not again!"

"What?" Tate looks over. "Carter! No cheating!"

The massive wave of leaves Carter gathered up shoots toward us, burying Tate and me even with my attempt at a shield. We've made quite the mess of the leaf pile and it's only about fifty percent taller than me now… though I guess that's wrong now. It was only around fifty percent taller than me.

All of the leaves from it being dumped back on has no doubt returned it to being more than double my height. It was a rather wide and long pile to begin with, too.

As I try to swim through the leaves to get out, a hand grabs my ankle and pulls me in more. A startled yelp escapes me as I'm pulled towards Carter.

"Gotcha!" He laughs once we're face-to-face. "Now yield, or I'll keep this ankle for eternity!"

"Snow leopards never yield!"

"They probably would if they knew there was no other option which guaranteed their safety," Xander's muttering reaches our ears, causing Carter and me to snicker.

He's muttered comments like that throughout us playing. That began after the first few times he checked to make sure I was fine and not actually annoyed or struggling.

"Give my back my ankle, foul wolf!" I exclaim as I try to break free of Carter's grip.

This is an uncomfortable position, but I know he'll let go of me soon enough. Having one leg pulled up to my chest so that Carter can be face-to-face with me while holding my ankle while we're both buried under leaves is not a position to be stuck in for long.

"Nope!" Carter says. "I'm-wait, no, Tate!"

Tate crashes into both of us, causing Carter to release me. This turns into a three-way wrestling match for a few moments as I try to put Carter into a headlock and Tate tries to break him him free. Carter, meanwhile, attempts to put Tate in a full-body lock.

All while the three of us are still buried under the pile of leaves, adding an extra level to the madness. We've already been playing for around twenty minutes by this point, and I'm a little out of breath from trying to keep up with them. Also very hot from all the moving and wrestling around. Wearing a hoodie while doing this is making me sweat.

"Break! Break!" I call out just as Tate gets me in a headlock, the two of us half out of the leaf pile. "Need to catch my breath."

Though I'm probably not the only one. Tate's breathing heavily, too, and his face is pretty flushed. Mine probably is as well, considering how warm it feels.

"Alright," he says. "I'll take one, too. Carter?"

Carter doesn't respond, though we can hear him moving around in the life pile.

"Carter?" Tate looks back into the leaf pile as we get out of it.

"Right here," Carter quietly says from behind us, causing Tate and me both to jump and shout in surprise.

Carter bursts into laughter, and Tate and I both tackle him.

"You ain't supposed to use that magic unless you're hunting!" Tate exclaims.

Carter must have used a restricted magic to reduce the sound he made so that he could sneak up on us. It's technically illegal to use within society, though I doubt people out in the country like this follow that strictly.

"I didn't!" Carter says as he somehow manages to get me in a headlock with his legs and Tate in one with his arms. "I teleported behind you! But yeah… let's take a breather."

We head over to where Xander is, where two tables have been set up with drinks. One has a hot drink dispenser of milk for hot chocolate, with a tin of mix beside it along with warm cups, some stirring spoons, and a bag of mini marshmallows. The other table has warm cups and a hot drink dispenser of mulled cider.

Collin and Xander are sitting on a blanket on the grass, Puffy lying between them, his head on Xander's left leg.

"Why are they on two different tables?" I ask. "There's room, isn't there?"

"So the chocolate doesn't accidentally get into someone's cider," Xander answers. "This makes it so you have to purposely put it in."

"Makes sense," Carter says. "We can get a bit goofy when putting the powder in and this'd avoid getting it into someone else's. Not everyone likes the taste of mulled cider mixed with cocoa."

I contemplate mixing the cider with hot cocoa… but decide against it. Hot cocoa isn't right without milk or when thinned. Apple cider would thin it out for sure. I don't think I'd enjoy it anymore than the time where I mixed chocolate milk and regular apple juice.

After drinking some hot chocolate, Carter, Tate, and I are ready for more fun in the leaves. I'm still pretty hot from the first round, though.

"Mind watching my hoodie?" I ask Xander as I pull it off.

"No."

My shirt comes up a little with my hoodie and the cold air feels good against my skin so I switch to pulling both off. Xander looks confused as I drop my hoodie and shirt down beside him, probably since I only asked about the hoodie.

"It was coming off, too," I tell him. "And look at me, I'm all sweaty! The air'll keep me cool!"

Tate takes off his hoodie and shirt as well, while Carter only takes off his hoodie.

Not even a minute later, I learn that the edges of broken leaves against my skin are very itchy. There's no way I'll admit that to the others, though, especially since Mrs. Martins has come out and is sitting on the blanket with Xander and Collin.

Wait, where's Puffy?

"Woof!" The blizzard wolf jumps into the leaf pile, followed closely by Bubbly and a dog I don't recognize.

It's not any of the Martinses' or the Coxes', I'd definitely remember him. He looks a little like a golden retriever, but light imitating flames flows off of his tail and his paws, similar to water on Bubbly. He can probably turn them into actual flames since he's fairly obviously magical, but it's neat that they're not hot.

That would just burn up the leaves.

"Oh!" Carter exclaims. "I thought I could smell you, Flareboy!"

"Flareboy?" I ask.

"He's a new hunting dog we got," Carter tells me. "Joined the family on Tuesday! Xander offered to teach me how to modify the shapeshifting spell so I could take on a matching dogkin form."

Xander already knew about Flareboy already? That boy knows all the gossip but rarely shares it. Though it is a little disappointing that Carter didn't tell me. We've known each other longer and were friends first.

I don't have time to dwell on that for long, though, because Tate tackles me into the leaf pile, burying both of us. Bubbly then jumps in next to us and presses his nose against my side, causing me to yelp.

"Cold!"

The three of us plus the dogs and wolf continue wrestling for a little bit, then Tate telepathically contacts me. It's not fair that Carter isn't getting as itchy as we are… so Tate wrestles him down and I start stuffing leaves under his shirt.

"Guys!" Carter laughs. "Stop! Stop!"

He keeps protesting while laughing, and manages to wiggle his way free when I've got the back of his shirt stuffed with leaves. I didn't get his front, but that's enough. He wrestles me to the ground and gives me a few good jabs in the side, then releases me before pulling off his shirt and trying to brush the leaf bits off of his back.

"Jeez, this is so itchy!" He laughs. "And now it's all in my shirt."

"Good thing we're at your house!" Tate laughs. "You can just get a new one!"

Carter tackles him back into the leaf pile.

[Xander – 13 years] → begins a little before Sig's PoV.

I watch Collin as he approaches me. He's pulling a wagon behind him, which has two folding tables and some other things on them. The smell of chocolate reaches my nose, and I frown a little. Even I know that hot chocolate needs milk to taste good and there's no way a family like this would go against that.

Oh, wait. There's the smell of milk, it was just masked by the smell of mulled cider. The milk smells heated as well. Is it in one of the hot drink dispensers?

"Hey, Xander," Collin says. "Mind if I set up some drink stands here?"

"It's your family's property," I say. "Not mine."

"I know," he says. "But I don't want to put it too close, in case you don't want people getting their drinks close to you. There's plenty of other spots I can put it."

"Oh."

"So?" He asks. "Mind if I set it up here? Or would you prefer if I put it further away?"

"Um… I can put up a scent filter if the smell gets too strong."

"Alright," he chuckles, then puts the drinks station up a little bit further away.

Once he finishes, he walks over to the blanket where Puffy and I are watching the others play in the leaf piles.

"Mind if I join you?"

"No shoes on the blanket, please."

Collin removes his shoes and steps onto the blanket, then sits on the other side of Puffy.

"You don't want to join them?" Collin asks after a few moments of us not talking, just watching.

"No."

"Mind if I ask why?"

"No."

We continue watching the others for another minute.

"How come you don't want to play with them?" Collin asks. "I'm not saying you have to, I'm just curious."

Oh. That was him asking me why I don't want to join them, not him asking if I don't mind. This is confusing, but I put up a sound filter so that our conversation doesn't disturb the others. They'll hear it for sure with their wolfkin and snow leopardkin ears, but I don't know if they'll pay attention or not. If they do pay attention, then hearing the reason might make them feel guilty for playing without me.

Then I'd feel bad for making them stop having fun, and I don't want to feel bad for that.

"I do want to play with them," I tell him. "But they're wrestling around and I don't like that. Especially s-since they keep p-putting each other i-into h-headlocks."

"Ah."

"Also," I say. "The leaves would get very itchy on my skin. The broken bits, I mean. Those itch really bad. They're probably already got some bits from under the bottoms of their shirts, but someone's definitely going to shove leaves down someone's hoodie and shirt at some point. And they might forget not to do that to me… so I don't wanna join them. Definitely not."

"Aaaah," he says. "So you don't like the feel of leaves itching you?"

"Yeah," I nod. "I've felt it before, at the group home. And… I think I remember it from before my old foster home? I'm not sure. My memory on that is fuzzy. But I didn't like the itchy at the group home."

With the memory from before my old foster home, it really is fuzzy. I didn't even realize I remembered that until watching my friends play now. Remembering anything from before my brain got fixed when it wasn't something constantly reinforced or which I thought was important is difficult. That was definitely a small memory, but I can fuzzily remember it.

Something important must have happened there. Oddly, though, it's not in a memory packet. That means that I can't just access it and see what all is in it. Even the ones I made badly and subconsciously are a little more clear than that one.

"You played in the leaves at the group home?"

"They have most of the boys work together to clean up the yard," I explain. "And I wasn't wearing gloves… and maybe also tripped and fell into a bag of them. They never made me help in any of the other leaf cleanups after that one, which I was really grateful for."

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

"So you got exempted?" He asks.

"Sort of," I answer. "I had to do a different chore to make up for not doing that one."

"I see," he says. "If they were throwing a ball around, would you join them? I've seen you play flag football at the post-testing barbecues."

"Yeah," I nod. "You're not allowed to tackle there. It still makes me nervous, but it's kind of fun? Especially when I manage to get someone's flag. I'd prefer something like just tossing a ball back and forth, though. Dad does that with me sometimes. He tries to do it at least once a week."

"He does?" Collin asks, and I can feel how surprised he is.

"Is that… not normal for dads?" I ask. "I thought it was normal. Is-does that mean-"

"No, no, not that," he interrupts me. "Our dads toss balls with us, too. I played football in middle school and Dad helped me practice, and we'd just throw a ball back and forth sometimes. It just surprised me. Mr. Caldwell is fairly wealthy, and that's not the sort of thing I'd expect someone with that status to do. I wouldn't expect a foster parent to do that, too.

"Guess I was a little wrong," he snorts. "I just figured, most foster parents probably just view their kids as some sort of charity case or something… not like an actual kid of theirs. But it makes sense. Some of them probably do go into it for the sake of helping kids who don't have families have one. Your dad must be like that, too."

"He wanted a kid, yeah," I nod. "But… he wanted a normal kid. Not me. Then he found out about me and changed his mind. He wanted to give a kid who wouldn't normally have a chance a big one. They didn't tell him about my brain damage at first, they wanted to see how authentic he was, or something like that. And after realizing that he was growing to care about me even while just meeting me… well, they thought he might be a good fit for a foster father. And even after finding out I had severe brain damage, that didn't change his mind. He decided he'd try to see if he could help me out."

"You have severe brain damage?" Collin asks, the surprise and shock in his mind really high now. "You don't seem that way."

I don't think I've told any of the folks from here about it and we met after I healed up. Sig might be the only other person here right now who knows about the brain damage.

"Not anymore," I shake my head. "You know how mana stimulates a person's body, creating a few effects on them?"

"Yeah," he answers. "It causes our muscles to become a little stronger, up to a point, and for us to become more resilient. Our senses become a little bit better as well, and some other things. Oh, right! I did hear that our healing rate is a little bit better as a result. Not too noticeable unless you've got an insane amount of mana. You've got that much, don't you?"

His perception is slightly skewed due to where he lives. Pretty much everyone here has hundreds of mana, so he's used to their own recovery rates and is probably unaware of the difference between them and normal people. An eight-week heal for a normal person would only take probably six weeks or so for him.

"The increase is technically slight," I say. "And has an exponential increase in how much mana is required to reduce your healing. And… no. Someone with millions of mana wouldn't be able to heal even twice as fast as you.

"And I'm a bit different," I tell him. "See, I got such bad brain damage when I was four that I should have died. But I was subconsciously using magic to keep me alive. It was a bunch of different spells which burned through nearly all of my mana as I generated it.

"And that's important," I say. "Because of Lumaria Kings' healing rates. A lot of people think it's related to how much mana we have, but that's not true. That doesn't affect us any differently from most people, for the most part.

"What makes us different is the phoenix magic in our blood," I say. "See, Grandpa Adrian's bloodline got modified by a dragon, a phoenix, and a unicorn to have equal parts of them factored in. So he's technically only one-quarter human."

"Phoenixes regenerate," Collin says. "At least, according to the myths of them. Does that apply to real ones?"

"Yeah," I nod. "And phoenix magic being in our blood is why many Lumaria Kings have faster healing speeds than normal people. How much faster is determined mainly by how much of the phoenix magic they inherited. They can't resurrect like a phoenix can, but they still heal a little bit faster."

"Then how come your brain didn't heal?" Collin asks.

"Because of my mana being low," I answer. "That boosted rate apparently only triggers if we have at least five percent of our mana capacity in mana. It's a fail-safe, because it uses our mana to heal us. And I was burning my mana pretty hard in order to stay alive. It wasn't until the dork realized I wasn't doing that on purpose as some sort of training or to weaken myself that it got resolved. He gave me a mana potion he'd been saving up for… who knows why. It was able to restore a large amount of my mana, more than five percent. And unlike the others in my family, I'm a quarter phoenix. My grandpa on my mother's side is an actual phoenix. That makes it so that my healing rate is absurdly high. So I healed up. That was at the start of July."

"Oh."

We're both quiet for a few moments.

"Even after I healed," I tell him. "Dad didn't care. He didn't really treat me too much differently, so I wasn't a pity case for him. He was happy that I was healed and could be more normal. Not fully normal, 'cause I'm Autistic. And also because I'm a magical genius. That's what Greyson calls it, a magical genius. And a magitech genius. But sometimes… sometimes I don't want to be. I just want to be normal."

And I can't be because being like this is coded into my genetics.

"How come?" Collin asks.

"Because then I could be normal."

"But why would you want to be normal?"

"It's lonely."

"What is?"

"Being this way."

"I don't… understand."

"It's hard to explain," I tell him. "But… I barely have anything I can connect to others with. That's true even for the nonhuman people. I'm unique, and on top of that, I struggle with communication. And it's really lonely. And what if-what if one day, they decide we ain't got much in common at all?"

"Why worry about the future when you can focus on the now?" Collin asks. "They're your friends right now. It's natural for people to drift apart as time goes on – but some friends are forever. So why make yourself unhappy instead of being true to yourself?"

Because I don't want to be alone.

[Xander – 13 years]

"What are your plans for the stuff you caught?" Carter asks "It was some pretty powerful stuff, right?"

That's a weird thing to ask as we sit down to eat dinner. We're in his family's living room now, us four younger guys sitting in a sort-of circle on the floor while his parents are on the couch and his brother on the love seat. Puffy's sitting beside me while the other dogs are still outside.

Sig's pretty out of breath from trying to keep up with Carter and Tate, though they're all still red in the face from all of the wrestling and jumping around and stuff they did.

Trying to keep up with people who have a lot more stamina is never a good idea, but Sig attempted to anyway.

None of them put their shirts back on once we came inside, though I think that's because it would probably make them extra-itchy as their shirts rub whatever leaf bits they didn't see and wipe off. They'll all need showers after dinner for sure to not be itchy as they sleep.

Dorks.

"Some of it," I tell Carter. "Most had around 100,000 to 250,000 mana, but there were some things between 1,000,000 and 2,500,000 mana. Part of it was just so I could practice magic and learn stuff about it. But there was apparently another purpose."

"There was?" Sig asks.

"Yeah," I nod. "Apparently, Grandpa Adrian regularly goes out to true wilderness to monitor the levels of magic beasts, monsters, and demons. Well, not the latter so much as they don't usually tear open Rifts that far from society. But the first two for sure. And he culls some of the stronger beasts. It helps slow down the increases of magic, and reduces the risk of something really powerful moving close to human society and causing problems."

Which is important for keeping everyone safe. So is slowing the increase of magic around society. By culling them, collecting their remains, and processing their remains into things for people to use, he slows that growth down. In turn, that allows humans to adapt better rather than having it jump up really fast on them.

"Huh."

"Did he say how strong beasts get?" Tate asks. "Like, further down?"

"Yeah," I nod. "He said that in Antarctica, where magic first began spreading on Earth, the strongest beasts have around 10,000,000 mana. That means that more than that ain't really necessary for anyone… though I'll probably still exceed that by the time I'm an adult. I use enough mana all the time right now that I haven't hit my plateau point and we ain't sure when I will."

Eventually, I'll reach the point where the amount of mana I use regularly won't increase anymore, which means that my capacity gains will slow down as it grows more. If I don't hit that point soon, I might even reach 10,000,000 mana by the end of next year. I'm already halfway there and my maximum growth rate would earn me sixty percent of that in just one year.

I don't know how long the plateau point will be for me, though. There seems to always be more things I can use mana for as my capacity goes up and still keep myself above the three-quarters point. Going below that is something I should only do if I really need to, just in case of an emergency.

Like a really severe Rift popping up around me. Grandpa Adrian has confirmed that it's safe to close them after they open, it's just sealing off Earth from Rifts even forming is bad. That apparently messes with Earth's own mana flow, which is why it needs to be limited to shorter times.

"So you were helping cull some of the stronger beasts?" Tate asks. "So that magic growth slows down some?"

"And to reduce threats," I add. "Sometimes, really strong beasts move further north. That's not too common, though. Akrolnomak was a high exception."

"Don't most wyverns have around that much mana?" Sig asks.

"He had around triple what most adult wyverns do," I tell him. "That's because he was gaining intelligence and figured out he could train his magic to increase his capacity. Grandpa Adrian was apparently already considering taking him out when I went to kill him."

"Ah."

"How does that work?" Carter asks. "The power level thing out in true wilderness, I mean? Would killing just one or two strong beasts in an area really make a big difference? There are beasts like that in society, too. Not including the nonhuman people, that is."

"Man, it's insane those are real," Tate says. "To think there are magical beasts which have sapience, too, they just don't care to reveal themselves to humans… never thought that'd be a thing."

"They don't care about human affairs as long as humans don't mess with them or try to ruin the world or something like that," I tell him. "And for the hunts, it wasn't just going somewhere and killing random beasts. Everything I killed was abnormally strong for the area. So like, if I killed a wyvern, it was likely four or five times, maybe more, as strong as the normal extra-strong beasts for an area."

The stronger a beast is compared to the area it's in, the more likely it lives a longer life. That means that when its body decomposes, there's not an immense buildup of magic from others at its strength level doing the same. The area acclimates pretty well and assimilates the magic in, only gaining a slight increase.

But if something is really strong compared to the area, it can make that increase faster just because of the sheer amount of mana in the remains compared to the area's own. There's not enough time for it to spread out before more boosts from the area's normal strong monsters dying occur.

"Well," I add. "Add Grandpa Adrian said that wyverns are fair game for hunting no matter what, regardless of how they fit into the area they're in."

"How come?" Tate asks.

"I don't feel like explaining."

"Aww…" Sig seems disappointed.

"But I guess I can," I say, and Collin snorts for some reason. "Wyverns are one of the few beasts comfortable living somewhere where they're vastly more powerful than the other beasts there. They're able to quickly get to areas where the food is filling and return. Wild dragons can do that, too, but they're more comfortable in areas full of mana similar to their own level, so if you see a dragon, they're more likely to be noble rather than wild."

Most magic beasts actually prefer areas with enough mana that their food supply is sufficient for their own mana level. That's why the super powerful beasts rarely ever come to society – they can't usually find food this far away from their territories.

"In addition," I add. "Wyverns ain't a species which evolved here on Earth. All wyverns on Earth came in through Rifts or are descended of ones which did. They're one of the very few magic beasts on Earth which are that way. Most others both evolved here on Earth and on other worlds. Even dragons evolved here on Earth before any came in through a Rift. Wyverns ain't monsters, but they're like them in that regard. So it's okay to kill them at any time."

"Ah."

My explanation is over, but… would this be a point to add in some extra information? That's what they would do, right?

"And tomorrow," I decide on what to add. "Grandpa Adrian's going to teach me how to process a wyvern. Everything I caught during our hunting session today's in here," I indicate the pouch I used to store my catches. "Just not the stuff from the special hunting session outside of the Dragon Falls area. That's in a separate one that I gave to him. He said he'll handle getting them processed and taken care of and their parts used for whatever they'll be used for."

"He's teaching you tomorrow?" Sig asks.

"Yeah," I nod. "It'll take up most of the day, he said. We'll be doing it at a special facility with a specialized preservation enchantment. It means we can take our time to process the beasts – oh, right, we're supposed to be doing more than one beast. But a wyvern is for sure being done, since his bones are getting used to make the dorms' spatial expansion enchantment stable."

Interest hits my mind, and it takes me a moment to realize that it's from Carter and Tate. There's just a lot of it coming at me. The rest of Carter's family seem interested as well, just not as strongly as those two are.

"Huh?"

"Huh?" Sig asks.

"Oops," I say, then look at Carter and Tate. "It's just… I can feel you two being extra interested now."

"We're an agricultural community," Carter reaches up and grabs his courage necklace. He and Tate both wear them all the time now, and I think the rest of their close friend group do as well. "But also a hunting community which deals with magic beasts a lot. On top of that, we're descended of the tribes which were taught magic by your great-grandfather, and it was for the safety of our ancestors."

"Hearing about how there's still stuff done by Adrian King to ensure our safety," Tate says. "Even after all this time, is interesting. I think Carter and I both want to learn more about this."

"Yeah," Carter nods. "He taught our ancestors magic so we could defend ourselves, and I thought that's all it was. Areas like ours help keep the borders safe… but keeping even more powerful things away? Didn't know he did that at all."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Carter smiles. "That's all. We're just interested because… what sort of things are we being kept safe from? And I'll admit, I'm a little interested in how they're used."

Carter, Tate, and some of the others here do use materials from magic beasts they've hunted for other things. Tate's family even sells mindwave cattle leather, which gets used to make some stuff. It shouldn't surprise me that he wants to learn about that sort of thing, but it does. Probably because I'm stupid.

Grandpa Adrian said it was okay to invite three of my friends to the processing session tomorrow. He's psychic, too, and he actually knows how to use his psychic powers.

Which means he might have known this would come up between the four of us. This is so late of notice, though. It's still the day before, but I'm leaving in the morning for it.

I wasn't planning on asking anyone, because it would mean putting them close to creatures which could easily wipe out their entire towns. Not living ones, but the difference in power level is just that high.

That would be hiding my full self, though… I think? And Collin said I should try to not do that anymore. I really don't want to do this, but I want to share this with them, too.

Dad also said I could stay the night if they asked about a sleepover, or that I could invite them over to our home for one if I wanted. That wasn't from psychic power, though, that's just Dad letting me know whether or not an impromptu sleepover is okay. He does that a lot.

"Um… did y'all want to come?" I ask. "Grandpa Adrian said it was okay to invite a few of my friends."

"What time is it at?" Mr. Martins asks.

"Um… I'm supposed to be there by eight-thirty," I answer. "But I know y'all go to church, so I can probably teleport them over after my nap. I'll have to ask him if that's okay."

Mr. Martins and Mrs. Martins look at each other for a few moments, then they look at Carter. They didn't use telepathy, but they somehow reached an agreement, anyway.

My parents do that sometimes, too.

"Behave for Mr. King," Mr. Martins tells Carter. "You can skip church tomorrow to attend the full thing."

"It's okay to miss church?" I ask.

I know he has before, but I didn't think it was fully allowed outside of special things.

"Attending church isn't a requirement for believing," Mrs. Martins tells me. "Think of it more of a place to go to learn more about the faith. And since it's to learn more about magic beasts from the man who taught our ancestors, it's more than acceptable."

Carter clears his throat.

"Xander," Carter says, and I look at him. "We're religious, but it's not hardcore religious like you might find in some areas. You can consider our customs, rituals, and traditions to be a form of religion as well. It's why we all try to earn this necklace," he touches his necklace again. "And why we wear them on hunts. And after you earned yours and decided to stick to the old way of it… some of us are wearing it all the time now, like how it used to be.

"And as Mom said," he continues. "Learning from your great-grandfather is basically as far back into our history as we can trace things."

"That's not what she said."

"Close enough," Mrs. Martins chuckles. "The point is, it's fine for him to miss church to do that. It's not as if he doesn't sometimes pretend he's too sick to go so that he can stay home and play video games."

She seems more amused than annoyed by that, even though that's bad. That's confusing. He doesn't get into trouble for lying to try and miss church?

"Um… okay," I say. "Did you want to come, then, Carter?"

"Yeah!" He answers.

Tate texts his parents to find out if he can go, and Sig texts his aunt. They both receive permission as well, so I then invite them all to spend the night at my place. That would make getting ready to go easier for us, since we can make sure we're all up on time and I won't need to go around and get different people from different places. It also means I won't have to help out with taking care of chickens and cleaning and sorting their eggs and stuff.

Making breakfast is a much better trade-off for hosting the sleepover than doing it here and having to do chores.

Approval is received for the sleepover at my place by all guardians, then we return to eating dinner. The beef used for the roast beef and potatoes has fire magics in it, but it still tastes pretty good. Is it okay to ask for seconds once I finish my first plate? It might be, I think Carter will go for seconds and even thirds. So seconds for me will probably be fine.

Shame it's fire magic beef, though. Spatial magic beef would be even better, but that apparently doesn't really exist on Earth, as far as I can find online.

I'll ask Grandpa Adrian if he can source some for me.