Cove gasped and cringed. Keekee’s slap hurt, but the ache paled before the storm radiating from his chest and every bone and droui gland below his belly button. At least the pain in his ears and eyes had faded, replaced by the buzz of family, muted rain, and battling thunder. He kept his sore eyes closed, desperate for another hour of rest, but Kee and the savory scent filling the air pushed sleep away.

“I swear,” said Keeva. “What am I going to do with him?”

“Lass, let the lad sleep,” Greta said. “He’s lucky to be alive. Within the last day, the arse has ranked up everythin' related to his Stoneshaper gift and fried half of his nanobots. Leave him be. Go teach the youngsters some history.”

"He can't sleep! We need him now. You heard Wendy. She's a wreck, and I don't blame her; Payton and Kendra have the Sign of Elystria. Dax and Sera only woke up an hour ago and are more interested in sewing matching leather outfits than helping. My girls are prancing around in glowing… Gods! I don’t know what to call what Cove made, not clothes, maybe lingerie, but whatever he calls it, it's not even appropriate for a Bordellwald nightclub!"

Cove stretched and yawned as he said, "I made their armor plates as modest as possible—”

"Nipples? Pretty bits?” Spittle splattered his face as she bit off each word.

"What!" Cove sat up and grabbed his throbbing head. He squinted, sweeping his surroundings as his eyes began to focus. They were in a crystal cavern, more of a short tube, or broken geode, that petered out behind his back. Glowing piles of charged Azure and the bluish light from the outer plates of the battle armor he’d made for the girls and himself lit the jagged purple crystals coating the walls. Vines, shrubs, and several dwarf trees blocked the entrance, shielding the cave from the storm and prying eyes.

Keeva slugged his kidney. Flames lit her fingers as she waved and pointed like the conductor of a symphony for the damned as she said, "You made our girl's armor anatomically correct. They're about as immodest as you can get, Daddy."

Cove groaned as he stood, wavered, and began stumbling toward Payton, Kendra, Dax, and Sera. "What I made for the girls was like mine, smooth, almost androgynous, but the inner liner must be flexible and skintight to work properly—”

“Yes,” Keeva said. She blushed as she growled, trying to punch him low and to the center. “I noticed once our daughters suggested we remove your outer plates to make you more comfortable.”

Cove’s eyes and hands darted down and found bicycle shorts and a flashy orange boy-band tee shirt. “Thank you." He sighed and glanced gratefully at Kee before catching Lyra, Bree, and Penny in the corner of his eye. "Girls! The interface does not count as clothing; put something on!"

Bree set down a worn science textbook beside a half-woven battle sling and stuck out her tongue as she and her sisters stormed to their panniers, peeled off the liners, slipped into legless shorts, day-glow pink cropped halter tops, and blew a concert of raspberries at their dad. A moment later, they were reclining in a circle with the young former priests of Gisaluna, backs against head-size egg-shaped stones, pretending to study. Still, the books got a fraction of the attention given to the boys.

"Thank you," said Cove, dismissing the young men as tomorrow’s problem and taking Kee's hand. "The girls can mold the outer layers of armor into clothing but prefer to be bare. I intended... argh... we will speak with them later."

Wendy stopped pacing. Her restless hazel eyes were framed by thin hair hacked into an awkward pageboy, once platinum blond but slowly returning to wild brown. She gazed at Cove and rubbed her wrists as he passed her. Then she fell in behind him opposite Kee.

Cove swept the rubble, shifted a pile of woven combat slings, and sat facing Wendy's daughters.

Peyton and Kendra, born less than a year apart, were near copies of their mother. The young women shivered and trembled, shaking like terrified pets brought in from a thunderstorm. The oppressive, tropical humidity tortured their bushy auburn locks, soaking the strands in uneven puddles and dragging past their waists in dark, sodden, irregular, limp curls.

Cove looked between the young women and asked, “How are you feeling?”

“I hurt,” said Kendra. She shivered as she exposed the grass-green glow radiating from the cleft of her chest to her underarms.

Peyton nodded, her eyes shifting between Cove and Keeva while she lifted the hem of her tube top. Her fingers stroked the swirling grey light, stirring it like a chef, making the energy pulse and flash with lightning, illuminating her ample breasts like raging storm clouds, emulating the raging winds and thunder outside.

Wendy knelt behind her daughters, her hands petting their copper hair. Her voice shook and stuttered as she begged, “Professor, can you banish the curse?”

“Gift,” said Cove as he glanced at Wendy. “This is a natural part of your daughters, no different than their lungs, heart, stomach, or any other organ keeping them alive.”

Wendy’s chin dropped; her eyes shifted between her daughters as she lifted her top to reveal a glowing florescent orange chest.

Kee growled.

Cove gasped, yanked his bulging eyes up, locked on Wendy's eyes, and swallowed. Irises that had been brown moments ago were deep yellow, and her pupils were stretching into vertical reptilian slits.

Wendy closed her eyes as tears formed. Her fingers quivered as she pulled the hem down to her baby bump.

Peyton straightened as she moaned and sniffled. Tears dribbled down her cheeks. “Why is this happening to us? What did we do?”

“Mrs. Nocht,” whispered Kendra, “How… how do we fix this? Are we going to… to die?”

Keeva knelt beside Cove. "You will live.” She wiped the tears from the girls' eyes and straightened their clothes. “Smile. There’s no better place for you right now. Only the gods know more about what's happening to you than my husband. He can help you."

Hopeful eyes set on Cove.

"Your bodies are changing as you come into your magic. Think of it like puberty; your body is improving in ways that can only be partially described, must be lived through, and cannot be reversed. Wendy, we can ease you and your daughters through the first stages, but there are consequences. Do you remember the conversation on the Causeway when we first met?"

Wendy nodded as her hands dropped to her abdomen and began to stroke her womb. "My boy?"

"I can drain you, but that is a short-term solution, and I do not know how quickly your droui system will refill. You are a mage, and nothing I can do will alter that. You could do nothing; maybe you will live."

Wendy looked into Cove's eyes as she said, "You want to perform this rite of opening, the one you said would turn someone into a mage, on my children and me."

“Yes. Only a few of your droui glands have opened; your bodies are out of balance and are fighting themselves. Within the next few weeks, your droui glands will open or shut down; there is no middle ground, and the glands on the losing side will self-destruct. Without this ceremony, you could find yourselves magically disabled or dying from radiation poisoning. The choice is yours, but the longer we wait, the less effective it will be."

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Peyton gasped. “Why is this happening to us? I don’t want to be a mage!”

Kendra whimpered. “I don’t know what magic is… I want to be normal.”

A gentle smile filled Cove as the teacher within him formulated an answer. “Do you know what Elystria is, not the moon, but the energy it radiates?”

Kendra shook her head, but Peyton said, “It’s magic.”

“From one perspective, yes, you are correct. Elystria is...” Cove ran a hand through his hair. “We don't have time for me to dive into the physics; for now, just think of it as the big brother to electricity, a selfish sibling with a bad attitude and the muscle to shove its baby brother around. Our droui glands and related crystals allow us to control Elystria, transform the energy to matter and back again, shape it, move it, and more; that is what we call magic."

"It sounds like a game," whispered Kendra.

"Your games are imaginative retellings of the histories, legends, and stories handed down from eon to eon," said Cove.

The twins' shoulders rose a hair, but lines still creased Wendy's forehead.

Keeva said, "You won't be alone; our daughters need the ceremony. We can perform the rite for everyone.”

A long, deep breath escaped Wendy as she looked away. Her shoulders sank.

Keeva said, “Wendy, what’s wrong?”

“Professor Nocht,” whispered Wendy, “back on the causeway… well, you said this opening would link us to your family. I…well, I…” she sighed and shook her head.

“Cove,” said Keeva, “is this true?”

“Yes and no,” Cove said as he rubbed his forehead. “Do you remember the emotions and sensations during and after the Rite of Opening?”

Kee blushed and nodded, her eyes darting from face to face as everyone gathered to listen.

“Do you recall Lady Amelia’s reason,” asked Cove, “for guiding and teaching us but not participating in the Rite?”

“She didn’t want to feel us live, love, and die.”

“Correct,” Cove said as his eyes traveled to the team and his extended family. “The ceremony fused tiny pieces of our souls. I have not studied the link, but I don't have to know everything to use it. I followed the connection through the forest and onto the causeway after the Riddere captured you. The Bonding added to the strength, and every… um… celebration of our marriage adds to our connection.”

“Hey,” said Essie, struggling to keep a straight face, “could you celebrate more quietly?”

Bree said, “Especially the kissing!”

“I know,” said Lyra, pouring on the sweet sarcasm and giggling. “At their age, they should have learned some discretion.”

"Girls," Cove groaned.

A chorus of loud, exaggerated smooching filled the air as Bree quoted, “Upon thy cheek, I lay this zealous kiss, as seal to the indenture of my love. “

"Wrong time and place," Cove said as the teenagers giggled.

Cove ran a hand through his hair, pausing as his eyes caught Wendy's forlorn smile. She lost her husband, her home, and possibly her brother. She's pregnant with a child she didn't expect. Her family is on the run from the Riddere because she chose to follow her conscience, and she's just learned that they are all mages, condemned without a trial. Could I smile in her place? "Wendy, do you have any questions? Do you want to discuss this with your daughters?"

"Will my children and I become part of your family?"

Cove nibbled on his lip and glanced at Keeva. He took a long, slow breath and shrugged. “What are you asking?”

Wendy glanced between her daughters, then at his, sank, and wiped her eyes. “I… We need you…” She blinked and swallowed. Her words galloped from her lips. “My girls… their daddy was gone before he could teach… well, you know, all the daddy stuff. I wouldn't worry, I mean, I had Virgil and his boyfriend to help… now they’re gone, probably arrested, or dead, or worse…, but now you’re here, you’ve got Miss Rigdom, sorry, I mean Mrs. Nocht, a Threig Blessed Educator as your wife. It's practically a class reunion—”

“Mrs. Terrizzanar,” Keeva asked, her words filled with caution, “are you asking us to adopt your girls?”

“Mom,” said Peyton as she pulled her shirt tight and folded her hands over the Sign of Elystria, “please! Don’t give us away!”

“We’ll be good,” stammered Kendra, “I swear by all the gods! I’ll clean my room, do the dishes, clean the bathroom; nobody will have a better daughter!”

Wendy took their hands, “No, I love you, I'll never leave you, you're my beautiful girls...” machine-gunning from her trembling lips.

Cove’s brows knit as he whispered, “Wendy?” He hadn't known this woman for very long. Yes, she was a friend, well, more of a close acquaintance, but if she died, he would care for her children, but now? They were part of his group, his team, so he would teach Peyton and Kendra these mysterious daddy things… Well, he would once he figured out what they were. The Ceremony was safe, but it was a mystery, forbidden knowledge, something she’d be tortured for knowing and killed if she participated. Did she expect to die? Was this her death prayer?

Kee gasped, her jaw chewed air, and the temperature dropped ten degrees as she caressed her baby bump. “No. I won't allow it.”

Wendy looked away as she caved in on herself, and Cove marveled as her fingernails grew.

Cove rubbed his forehead as he turned to Kee. “What?”

“Gods, don’t do this to me. We’ve been married less than a year. Please… Our first Family Celebration is in a few months.”

He shrugged, looking between his wife and Wendy, asking, “What am I missing?”

“No! Even the First Queen gets two years,” Keeva said as she stroked her belly, “more if she’s pregnant.”

Roy said, “She’s right. Plus, the union wouldn't be legal without the blessing of the assignment board—”

“Hold on,” sighed Cove. “All Wendy wants is for me to be a role model to Peyton and Kendra, not adopt them or marry her. Right? Wendy, you aren't asking to be my wife or concubine…”

Wendy leaned away from Keeva’s heartbroken glare and shook her head. “I want safety and security, a father figure for my children, not sex; Amekia curse me if I ever let another man inside me. Call me what you like, sister, friend, concubine, or slave, but let my children call you daddy; let them be sisters to Lyra, Bree, and Penny.” She looked up at Keeva through a flood of tears. “Let me be your servant, care for your animals; I’ve always been good with raptors; I’ll do anything, everything.” She ripped open her shirt, exposing the brilliant orange Sign of Elystria illuminating her breasts like two radioactive fruits. “We can’t go home, and I cannot do this alone. Please…”