~~~(Flame)~~~

"Looklooklooklooklook!" I tug on Tuck's sleeve, pointing. "It's a psychic!"

"You do realize," Tuck looks at me. "That most psychics aren't genuine, right?

"I know," I say. "But I still wanna check him out. Sometimes, they have traces of latent power, and can harness it through what most 'psychics' use. Looks like he uses cards. Let's go check him out!"

Tuck and I approach him. He's about our age, with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Well, eye. His right eye's covered by a black eyepatch. That's cool!

The psychic is shuffling his cards, each of which looks handmade by a child, and very, very worn-out, as if they're old and well-used. After a few moments of shuffling, he then draws thirteen of them, setting them down with one at the top, then four rows of three. He frowns as I pause.

Whenever the number thirteen comes up, it seems as if Caleb's connected, somehow. Directly or indirectly – Caleb is connected to this kid, I'm sure of it.

"Hey," I say, and he looks up at us, pursing his lips. "Do you do readings for people?"

"Not for people who will just make fun of me after," he says. "Since the Gift of Psychic Knowledge isn't generally one that appears, being a Special-Class Gift."

Gift…

Like what Kieran calls Abilities. Kieran is connected to Caleb.

There. They're connected. Now to figure out what else exists within their connections!

"I like hearing psychic's readings," I shake my head. "Real or fake."

He stares at me for several seconds, and I get the feeling that he's looking at me with more than just a physical eye.

His aura – concealed though it is – tells me he's the real deal.

"I charge," he shuffles up his deck, then sets it down on the table, pulling out another, newer deck, beginning to shuffle it. Its artwork is much better than his other deck's. "You decide how much you pay me. How much you pay determines the level of reading I'll perform. What I read isn't necessarily the future, but might be the past or present as well. A more advanced reading might give me a mix of them."

He stops shuffling the deck, holding it in his right hand.

He's left-handed, like Caleb. That's another connection.

Actually, Caleb's ambidextrous, but he favors his left hand. So we'll go with that he favors his left hand, like Caleb.

The connection exists, regardless of how that's worded.

I sit down, pulling out some cash and setting it down on the table. It disappears into his pocket before he starts drawing cards, his gaze never leaving me. He draws three cards, then looks at them, finally taking that unnerving gaze off of me.

He has an unnerving gaze. Another connection, there. Most kids our age don't have that gaze. Most kids our aren't simply can't make me feel uneasy just by staring at me. He and Caleb both can.

"Cards are being cheeky," he mutters, then reshuffles.

"Being cheeky?" I ask as he returns his gaze to me.

He doesn't answer as he shuffles, then deals again, turning up the same combination. He shuffles the deck a third time, a couple of men watching with smirks on their faces, probably assuming he's some idiot who doesn't know what he's doing.

This time, the card combination is different.

"Thank you, for stopping that," he mutters, scanning the cards with his eyes. Eye. He looks back to me. His cards aren't like normal cards, and I can't just guess the meaning behind them with my knowledge of tarot cards. "The reading just shows that you possess the power of fire and air, beyond that which your magic grants."

"Air?" Tuck sounds confused, and I look at him. "Flame's power has nothing to do with-"

"It does," I look down at the cards. "Brooks knows, and Caleb, but I think that's it. When they passed, Caleb did the same thing to me and Brooks that he did to Kieran, and gave us our brothers' Abilities. I have Gale's, and Brooks has Cliff's."

"That explains the first reading," the kid mutters, shuffling the cards back into his deck, pausing for a second. "Caleb and Kieran?"

Those names mean something to him. Connection!

"Can you do another reading on me?" I ask, putting some more cash on the table.

He pockets the bills, then shuffles the deck once more, staring at me yet again. This time, he places down five cards, and reads them.

"Oh, my goodness!" He shuffles them back into his deck, staring at me once more as he returns to that.

When he deals this time, receiving a different spread, he scans the cards for several long moments.

"Well?" Tuck asks.

"Sh!" I say. "Let him look."

The kid finally looks at me again, looking a little bothered.

"Fire and air, water and stone, light and shadows and perception, metal and stone, reality itself and perception," he says, his voice cracking a little on that last one. "An unwavering bond that only grows stronger as time passes."

Kieran doesn't advertise that he's got power over light, and according to Caleb, he's actually stronger with it than he is shadows. Caleb also doesn't advertise that he's carrying his brother's legacy.

This kid is the real deal.

"Seriously?" An adult laughs. "That's the best you can get from five cards? I could go to the black market and get a 'better' reading for cheaper."

"One more?" I place more cash on the table, and the kid stares at me for several seconds.

That gaze…

He's using his Ability when he's staring at me. He's only using the cards as a channel, a way to direct his power. He can likely get a general sense for things by staring at people.

He pockets the cash, then begins shuffling again, shuffling much longer than his previous shuffles. When he finally deals, he lays out nine cards, and begins scanning them. His pursed lips turns to a tense frown, and that worries me.

A real psychic frowning during a reading is never a good thing. Not from what little I know of actual readers, anyway.

"If you pay me sixteen times as much," he looks at me, then taps his other deck. "I'll do a reading from this deck. Thirteen cards. It will give me a much, much clearer reading than… than this."

He frowns, looking back down at the cards and muttering something I can't make out, even with my draconic senses.

Or rather, something I can't understand.

"If not," he looks at me. "I'll give you your reading from this one. After I get to the motel later, I'll be doing the other reading, anyway. If you pay the extra for the other reading, but still want this one's, you'll need to pay seventeen times as much."

"Nice extortion there, kid," an adult who walked up a moment ago snorts. "Not even subtle about trying to get more money. Plus – he's just a recruit for the GMDF – do you really think he could afford thousands? Tens of thousands? You've probably already burned up whatever money he's saved up."

I put the extra money on the table, wondering how the kid knew I could, as well was why he seems shaken up by the reading, and will be doing the bigger reading, anyway.

He pockets the cash, then shuffles the second deck, setting it down before picking up the old deck. He shuffles it like a deck of playing cards, then sets it down, closing his eye and taking a deep breath, pulling off his eyepatch and setting it down beside the cards.

Then, he picks up the deck and shuffles again, his eyes remaining closed as he does. He draws the thirteen cards, placing them expertly, despite his closed eyes, forming a circle with the cards.

Or a star…

He sets the deck back down, takes another breath, holds it for a few moments, then slowly releases it, opening his eyes as he does.

Though his left eye is an ordinary brown, his right eye is silver. He opens his mouth and begins to speak, his voice almost ethereal as he does, echoing around me and sending chills down my spine.

"Death will come, time and again, and greet you and your team as an old friend. Life is long and life is short, the world moves on and yet halts. A Second Great Calamity will begin, and Lusvar will bring to it an end.

"The Moon will greet you as an ally, the Earth will cry in his pain. In the Temple of the Dragon King, secrets will be revealed, ancestry discovered, and a bloodline awakened. Bonds will be shed, and the true powers of those around you will be revealed.

"Fire of life and fire of death, from start to end, will rage throughout. Live and die, rebirth and redie. Even the undead will flee from your wrath, wishing they, too, could fly.

"Even when in the land of the sky, the Child shall return, and the war shall come again. The battle will end, and so too shall vacation. Love lost is power gained, legacies held on, even once they're gone.

"What was sought was achieved, and what was achieved was not what was sought. In a land of demons, darkness shrouds the mind, and the False One rises again. The Age of Darkness is an unfamiliar place, yet shall be achieved, both before the deaths and after.

"You, O Dragon of Fire and Air, will be killed by the one you love the most. His mind broken, his powers vast, an ally, you will be, but an enemy is how you will be seen. Accept your death with open arms. Though the Age of Darkness will last, it, too, shall come to an end."

The kid stops talking, then slumps over in his seat.

The cafe patio – and the street around it – has fallen silent. Several long moments pass as people stare at him and I digest what he said. He lifts his head up, looking exhausted, then packs up the old deck.

"Know this," the kid tells me as he replaces his eyepatch, his voice normal. "That what you heard come out of my mouth is nothing in comparison to what I saw, when I channeled my Gift of Psychic Knowledge. It's only second, in vision, to one, for the darkness of what goes on in it. That other one, essentially, says that the world itself will enter into an era of darkness, ruled by a powerful being no one can kill – no one, save his own son. I don't know how far away that is, nor how long it will last, but it will last. Whoever that being is, he is both a Gifted and a magician, and he had dozens of Gifts. When he kills you, he'll take your Gifts, your aura, and your magic, making himself stronger still.

"The things you and your team will see," he averts his gaze, fiddling with the nicer deck. "It'll be things on par with the Great Calamity and the Alkran City Massacre.

"Lusvar," he mutters. "I shouldn't be surprised that you survived. And that was Kieran, if I'm not mistaken."

He puts the deck away and leaves, leaving me utterly confused.

"What's wrong?" Tuck asks. "I mean, other than that ominous message."

I pull out my phone and call Kieran. He picks up on the sixth ring.

"What?"

"Do you know a boy with a brown left eye, a silver right eye, and the Ability of Psychic Knowledge?"

Silence. Then a click.

"He's gone," a voice says, and I turn to find Kieran standing there, looking around. He looks at the table. "He was definitely here, though."

"You do, then?"

"Yeah," he looks around. "Do you know where he went?"

"Yeah," I point. "He went that way, but his scent… is gone. He's concealing himself with his aura, and I can't track him. I don't even know how he's doing that…"

"He's from the orphanage," Kieran vanishes into shadows, disappearing off into that direction.

"The orphanage?" Tuck looks at me. "Does he mean-"

"Yeah," I nod.

Four. That's four, that I know of, who survived the massacre. And that was the confirmation of his connection to Caleb.

They're brothers from the orphanage.

Tuck and I leave, continuing on our way to the store. When we arrive, Kieran's standing out front, looking as stoic as usual.

"Couldn't find him?"

"I did," Kieran responds.

He doesn't say anything else, as usual.

"We're-"

"I know."

"-going to… I didn't even say it."

"I know."

"So what effect does Caleb's Ability have on his aura?" I ask, and Kieran stares at me. "Our Abilities do have an effect on our auras, right? In the powerful people?"

"Yeah."

"What does Caleb's do?"

"Unclear."

"So he hides it?"

"It's Caleb."

At least you're talking.

The three of us head inside the store, and Tuck and I buy the things we came for, then head out, Kieran apparently tagging along with us today.

He sees us to the gates of the GMDF youth training complex, watching us until we're inside and the gates are closed back up.

"That was weird," Tuck says once we're in the food lab. "Kieran practically escorting us."

"Yeah," I agree. "It was really weird. Let's see if we can't make these magic cookies, now."

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

~~~(Kieran)~~~

Jeremy told me he came to town because of his cards. I was surprised to notice the ones Caleb drew back then. He's taken exceptional care of them, for them to still be around. The full deck, too.

Did whoever save us save those for him, too? They were always his best channel.

Now that he knows why he was directed here, he is moving on to the next place. He said he travels from place to place, not sticking around very long.

His Gift isn't suited for combat, and while he wields aura, he isn't exactly a soldier, and has no plans to become one.

The haunting prophecy he gave me…

He said that Flame received a similar one, when he performed the thirteen-draw for him, and he saw many of the same scenes. After a little prodding, he admitted that he saw not just the two of us dying in that fight, but Brooks and Jared, too.

The one we love the most will be the one to kill us all.

Flame loves Caleb romantically and in respect to his personality, powers, knowledge, and skill. I would wager that his love for Caleb transcends the love he feels for any other thing or person.

However, that could change, in time. I have yet to figure out how well Jared loves Caleb, but I doubt it counts as him loving Caleb the most. Brooks is completely stoic on that front, just like Caleb himself.

Amendment: Caleb wasn't. He apparently hit on this girl for awhile. No one knows what resulted from that.

Me?

I don't think anything could ever change how much I love and care for Caleb. He's my little brother, even if not by blood. Any orphan from the orphanage who knew Caleb respected him and loved him. Jeremy admitted that he looked up to Caleb, and sometimes wished he could be him.

He said that, even now, he wishes he could match Caleb, could be as cool and suave as my leader.

Unless I find someone to love who manages to draw love from me greater than the love I have for Caleb, it will always remain as Caleb.

The fact that Jeremy wouldn't give me a single indication of whether or not it was only worries me. Does Caleb kill us? He told me that, once we enter that Age of Darkness, his power loses traction. Something in that time affects his Gift.

Something powerful enough to affect the flow of time itself, and the ability to look through it, occurs. Put in place? Is it magic? A spell? A Reality?

Whatever it is, it's powerful, and only Caleb and above could possibly do something like that.

There it is again.

I can't figure out what that is, but it's bothering me. Despite being an S-A Perception, I can't perceive whatever it is, and it's starting to get really annoying.

Especially since I think I know what it is.

That make sense at all?

I can't figure out what it is, yet think I know?

I can't figure out what the damn thing is, but I know who might be causing it, due to when it first happened. The time frame fits.

Three weeks ago, I first noticed it. It could be Caleb, but I'm doubting it – as a kid, I doubt he could mess with my power of Perception this much with his own Gift. Whatever it is, it's a momentary shift in Perception, but the location is unknown, just somewhere in the city. I can't tell if it's in the same spot, or if it's moved, but I can tell it exists.

Four weeks ago, two Gifted were killed. It's possible that whoever or whatever is killing the Gifted in the city is the cause of this shift I'm noticing.

Shift…

I'll call it that, for now, even though it isn't really so much as a shift as it is…

There's no better word for it.

In the last four weeks, eighteen Gifted have been killed. While I was speaking with Jeremy, I received a phone call that alerted me to another's death.

Whatever it is, they aren't powerful enough to take on the most powerful Gifted in this city – Caleb and myself, so I'm probably safe. Judging by their ability to conceal themselves from me, they're likely a powerful magician of some sort.

They could probably still deal some decent damage to me…

At least Caleb's safe. If they make it past Jared and his Metal Guardian, and Caleb himself can't fight, he can always use that.

The Hall of Fun.

Momentarily, I flash back to the Massacre, to feeling the Hall of Fun appear around me as the monsters closed in. He couldn't support it with that many inside of it, though, and it collapsed. He tried making it span an area larger than he normally did, taking in hundreds more people than he normally supported, as well as hundreds – maybe even a thousand or more – monsters and demons.

If he's attacked by a single person, the strange Caleb we're facing now – who doesn't seem to have changed much from before the Massacre, and is nothing like the one that actually appeared after – would create the Hall of Fun.

Shaking the memories from my head, I refocus on my new task – locating the source of that 'shift', wherever it is.

Focusing, I try to Perceive it again, Perceive its source, but as usual, I fail.

Bullets slam into my aura. It absorbs the full shock, but it still startles me.

I didn't Perceive that…

I turn, scanning for the source of the bullets, but they're only appearing the moment they hit my Aura. Their general direction is this way, though.

The bullets stop, but it's too late – I've already figured out their Gift.

Perception, like me. They're concealing the bullets in a Perception filter, but the moment it interacts with my aura, it fades away.

Had I not been keeping a thin layer of strengthened aura over my skin, I probably would have died from that attack.

All of the slain Gifted have been killed with the full magazine of a specialty handgun powered with an explosive fuuxar crystal. Unfortunately, it isn't traceable.

Something slams into the back of my head. A fist.

I spin, knife drawn, and the attacker jumps back, looking stunned. I'd place him around his mid-thirties.

"I've never heard of a negating Ability before," he says. "Though your aura is quite interesting, to nullify the shock of the bullets like that."

"Are you the one killing Gifted throughout the city?"

"All of your kind must die," he raises his gun again. "No Superhuman should be left alive."

He's not a Perception?

"Even you?"

"I have been given this power by the Great Summoner," he says. "It is not an Ability, like your kind possess."

He fires off more shots at me, these ones with more impact, but my aura takes them. He's riddling my shirt with bullet holes, and at this point, it's just tatters. I grab the front of my shirt and pull it off, letting it rip the rest of the way.

"If you wanted to live," I say. "You should have picked another city to attack. The GSDF and GMDF are both stationed here, along with the training facilities for the youth branches of both, as well as small adult training facilities. There are tens of thousands of magicians and Superhumans in the city. It was only a matter of time before you died."

"You talk tough," he says as he reloads his gun. "Cadet of the GSDF. Unfortunately, you are but a child, and have no knowledge the real way of the world. You are outmatched. To be ranked among your kind, I would be S-S. I am trained in weaponry and martial combat, and my aura is quite vast, as is my skill with it. You are the first to have been able to resist me, but you will die, all the same."

"You have mistaken me," I say. "For a trainee. I am Kieran Rivers, Colonel of the GSDF, S-A Perception Gifted, Class Three aura wielder, Second Class Magician."

He laughs, firing his gun, and this time, his bullets go through me.

Or rather, the Shadow Avatar left behind. He pauses, then blocks my punch from behind. He noticed me, despite my perception alteration.

He switches to martial arts, and he's my superior, and he mixes it with perception alteration, just like I do, and I can't pick it up. The fight doesn't stop, and he keeps hitting me harder and harder. Even when I use my Gift of Manipulation on shadows, he still persists.

Stolen story; please report.

Nothing I do seems to change the outcome, and he's wearing me out. Even with dual-Abilities, his experience and higher rank as a Gifted is too much for me. Then combine with him disarming my knife, every time I recreate it with my shadows, and his own knife skills…

I'm in a lot of pain after a few minutes, from his physical blows and his knife attacks. I can't escape, though. Every time I try, he stops me, able to touch me, even in shadow form.

Just what is he? Just who is he?

Once I'm all out of power, I'm collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily. I can't fight anymore, and I can't run, either. I have the power to run, but I can't run. I need to stop him, before he kills more people.

This fight has drawn attention. It has to have. Reinforcements should be coming soon. I know I did a decent amount of wear on his own Gift, and doubt he could fully stop them. Enough troops attacking should be able to take him out.

"Finally," he says, his breath ragged, as he aims his gun at me. "Your power, magic, and aura are all exhausted, and you yourself are too worn-out to resist anymore. I can finally kill you."

He pulls the trigger.

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

~~~(Flame)~~~

"Yo!" I answer the phone. "What's up, Jared? How's the Sage's son?"

"Missing!" He sounds breathless. "I need your nose!"

"He went missing?" I ask.

"He was playing pranks on me all morning," Jared says, and I hear the sound of something bouncing off of something else. Something metal against magic, it sounds like. "Then suddenly, I felt disconnected to my magic and Ability."

A weakener?

"Some men came in," Jared continues. "And there were a ton of them. A shitton of them. They wore me out, and Caleb, too. He did some stuff with aura I've never seen before, and-"

"Caleb's back?"

"The Sage's son," Jared says. "Tiny little guy. He totally kicked ass, but they wore him out, too. At six, it's not like he could take on a hundred guys without the use of his Ability, and they used a negator over the manor. Before they left with him, they triggered the barrier over the manor, then destroyed the device used to control it."

"Barrier?"

"All Fuller manors and mansions have it," Jared explains. "It prevents people from entering or leaving. It's on, and I can't turn it off. No one knows who created them, though I think it was Teacher, since all of the Council's members' properties from the old days have them. I can't get out, and my Metal Guardian isn't doing shit against it. I need you to come to the manor, pick up his scent, and see if you can track him down. Get Kieran, too – you'll need the extra power. Call Owen as well, but leave Brooks out of it."

"Why?" I ask. "Brooks-"

"I'll explain once I get out," he says. "But unless something changes, I can't get out, these barriers can resist anything we could throw at it."

"Did you try calling our Caleb?"

"Phone's in a non-service area," he says. "If… if Kilmar were still available, he'd probably be able to do something about it, but from what I hear, he vanished."

"Yeah," I say. "Same with the token I'm supposed to use to contact him with. He just up and vanished."

"I might know why," Jared says as a massive clang rings out. "DAMMIT! I'll explain it to you once you recover him. Are you moving?"

"About to be," I answer. "I'm going to use my bursting steps once I get off the phone with Kieran and Owen."

"Hurry!" He says. "They put some sort of amulet on Caleb, and his aura vanished entirely. I don't think he can use his Ability with that thing on, either. If he could, he'd get out of there, easily. Go!"

The call disconnects, and I call Kieran's phone. It goes straight to voicemail. I realize I don't know Owen's number, and so leave the facility, using bursting steps across town to get to the GSDF training facility.

"I need to speak with Owen… uh, I don't know his last name," I tell the guard who greets me at the guardhouse. "The electric Owen. He goes all sparky sometimes."

"I'll call him," he says. "Mind telling me what it's about?"

"It's a bit complicated," I shake my head. "But it's an emergency, so can you hurry up?"

"Sure," he nods. "But only one of us are allowed on the phone at a time, so it'll be a second."

"Call's done," the other one hangs up. "Just an update – facility is in Level 1 Lockdown.

I pull out my phone and call Caleb's.

"The number you are trying to reach-"

I hang up. Dammit.

Where the hell is he when he's needed?

"Sorry," the other guard returns to the window. "Owen's not on property right now – he left before my shift started, for some job in the city."

"Dammit!" I say. "Can you get me his cell number? I need to reach him, and ASAP."

I really want to call Brooks, but Jared said not to. Just what is going on that he doesn't want me to involve my brother?

Our Unison Strike, when factoring in our magics, is on par with Kieran's power. Even Jared and Owen combined wouldn't be able to take us on.

"I don't," he shakes his head. "And even if I did-"

"Yeah, yeah," I say, then take off running, sorting through the different smells until I pick up the one I think is Owen's.

I locate him walking down the street.

"Come with me!" I yell at him, knowing he can keep up.

He does, using his energy in a similar fashion.

"What's going on?" He asks.

I fill him in on what I know on the way to the manor. When we arrive, Jared's Metal Guardian is still attacking the barrier. He's standing on the other side of it, looking pissed.

"Why don't you want Brooks?" I ask.

"Where's Kieran?" He asks.

"Going straight to voicemail," I answer. "Why don't you want Brooks? He's part of the team, and Owen isn't. If Owen is here, then-"

"Caleb," he takes a deep breath. "Is the Sage's son."

"Yeah," I say. "You said that-"

"I mean our Caleb," he says. "And he turned himself into a Reality Marble. He reverted back to when he was six years old, to right after the Alkran City Massacre. That's why Kilmar vanished, most likely – his presence in this realm was a direct result of his connection to Caleb's magic, and without it, he couldn't continue to support himself here. The token itself was likely created by Caleb. The information you have is known only to the three of us, Teacher, the Sage, and Kieran. He doesn't have any access to his magic at all, and apparently, as a kid, could block out minds around him, and filter out everything. He didn't realize there was danger until they blocked our Abilities. They found out I was watching over the Sage's son, and went after him. If they kill him, our Caleb dies, too."

"Hello?" Owen answers his phone. "I'm at the Fuller Manor right now, sir! Yes, sir! Understood, sir!"

He hangs up, looking at us.

"GSDF is on a Level 1 Lockdown," he says. "I've been ordered to report to the nearest safe location. I-"

"Because of the sensitive nature of my current job," Jared interrupts Owen. "I have the authority to requisition anyone I need. I'm relieving you of the Lockdown, so that you may retrieve the Sage's son. Also – the fact that he's our Caleb can not be shared with anyone beyond us. Wherever Kieran is, let's hope he shows up soon. I'll try calling him."

I nod, then close my eyes, and sort through the smells around me, until I pick up a child's scent. It's similar to Caleb's.

Scents… Jared… the draconic language of origin…

I should've seen that coming. Not that Caleb did that to himself, just that the Sage's son – Jared's charge – was Caleb.

"Let's go!" I tell Owen, and we leave as I follow the scent of the kid-Caleb.

We arrive at a warehouse, and the moment we draw near, I lose connection to my Ability and magic, stumbling in my bursting steps. Owen stumbles, falling to the ground beside me, and we both scramble to our feet.

When we do, we find dozens of men aiming weapons at us.

"Well, well," one of the guards smiles. "A couple of the kid soldiers, here to play. Put your hands in the air, and we might-"

"You really think?" I smile as flames begin to swirl around me. "That disconnecting me from magic and my Ability can stop me?"

The others might not be able to harness their dragons inside of Ruins, but I can.

"Oh?" He smile falters, then he looks like he decides something. "Kill us, and we'll kill the Sage's son. Simple as that."

I pause, staring at him.

"Yup," he smirks. "You're here to retrieve him, and even know who he is. They're under orders inside to kill the Sage's son, if we're attacked. So go ahead and attack – if you want to be the reason he dies."

We surrender, and they take us inside. The first thing I notice is that kid-Caleb is average in height, if a little on the taller side.

Not short at all.

He's swinging his feet on the crate he's sitting on, looking unafraid, despite the guns aimed at him.

"Found these two outside," the guard says. "The one with red hair can still use fire, despite the negation we've got here."

"We're putting these amulets on you," someone approaches us with a pair of golden amulets with ancient magical runes on them. "Try to attack us, and the kid gets it."

Caleb makes a face that says he thinks this guy is being dramatic, but the guard's tone says he's serious. I do have to agree with Caleb on that he's being a fair bit of a cliché with this.

"How much longer before we move out?" One of the guards who brought us in asks as the amulets go on us, and I feel my connection to the dragon fade. My aura's blocked as well.

Just what are these amulets? And how did they get them?

"A few hours," he answers. "They're moving us to headquarters."

Is Caleb wearing the ring?

I thought he said Teacher gave it to him when he was ten?

Then again, he's apparently had it since he was at the orphanage.

No one can ever trust what Caleb says, not unless something else has proven it to be completely accurate. How long has he really had that ring? And where did he get it?

"Smells like fire!" Caleb smiles at me. "Hi, Flame!"

"You know who I am?"

"Uh-huh!" He nods. "From Kieran's memories! I can't access my Territory right now, though, or I'd probably invade your own mind. Of course, if I could use my Ability, they'd all be dead!"

He says that cheerfully, as if it's normal for a six year-old to kill people. And like he doesn't have an issue with killing.

Hell, he still delegates most of his fighting to his golems, because of his issue with it.

Wait a second…

If Caleb turned himself into a Reality, wouldn't a cancellation and these amulets revert him back? Wouldn't they nullify that power?

"Oh," Caleb says. "You can't take them off, Flame. You're also not strong enough to break them. Or their chains. So you're stuck with it until either they remove it, or you die. If he," he points at the one who put the amulet on me. "Dies, you'll never get it off. The one who put it on has to be the one who takes it off. It's part of the condition of the magic they were formed of. That's what they said, anyway."

He jumps off the crate, straightens his shirt, then smiles at me. "Let's play rock-paper-scissors!"

"Alright!" I run over to him. "Let's go! Loser has to do pushups!"

"Ha!" Caleb laughs. "I'll have you doing a thousand pushups!"

"Bring it on!"

"Oh, boy," Owen sighs.

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

~~~(Nik)~~~

"Hello!" The attendant stops by my seat, for probably the hundredth time since the ride began. "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," I look at her.

"We're almost to your stop," she says. "Do you know where you're going?"

"Not really," I shrug. "I'm sure I'll figure something out, once I'm in the city."

"I think it's brave of you," she says. "Starting a new life on your own, at thirteen – especially since you look around ten. It won't be easy, you know."

"I'm aware," I smile at her. "But I'll be fine. I'm only part human, and among my species, by the time one is thirteen, they're already past puberty. Technically, I'm an adult."

The irony of us being considered adults by the time we're ten is that we tend to age a little bit slower after five or six years, and tend to stop aging altogether in the late teens or early twenties. At least, that's my theory on it.

"Really?" She asks.

"Indeed," I respond. "My mother was mostly human, and my father was an entirely different creature."

Can dragons even be counted in the same category as humans?

"Interesting," she says. "Well, since you look human, and a younger one than you are at that, you'll find a lot of obstacles in your way. Just remember to keep your head up and don't let them bring you down. In today's society, even children can make do on their own, if they know what they're doing. And remember – no matter what happens, you can always ask for help."

I smile at her, then she leaves. A few minutes later, they announce we're arriving, and then the train begins to slow. When it stops, I make my way off the train, my shirt fading away once I do.

Yeah, I'm shirtless, but dragons don't normally wear clothes in the first place, and I am wearing a cloak. I'm wearing black combat boots, black pants with a single white stripe running down the outside of each leg, black gloves, and a violet cloak with a golden symbol on the back, the same symbol tattooed on my sternum.

Since I've told you what I'm wearing, and that I look around ten instead of my actual age of nearly fourteen, I guess I should tell you the rest of my appearance as well. Fair skin with only a light tan, since dragons don't really tan unless they try to, golden hair, and violet eyes. My canines are a fair bit sharper than ordinary canines, and my body is well-muscled.

I'm even stronger than I look, and I look strong. Being sixty-percent dragon has its perks.

I'm stronger than humans, faster than humans, capable of razing entire cities to the ground…

Never actually done that, but there is this really strong itch that wants to be scratched, especially after someone dropped a meteor on Alkran and did that much damage to it, even past its Ruins protections.

I've never been in a full city before, and it's amazing. All the people, the powers, the magics, the fuuxar, the bakeries, the shops, the banks, the businesses, the bakeries, the-I step inside a bakery, eyeing the displayed food. It all smells so good…

"Hi!" The woman behind the counter greets me. "Anything look good to you?"

"Most of them," I tell her. "But your chocolate eclairs are bad."

"Pardon?" She asks.

"The chocolate eclairs," I say. "The eclairs flavored as chocolate, with chocolate icing and filling. They're bad – bad milk was used in their making. I could eat them without side effects, though most people would get sick. Then again, the bad milk means it wouldn't taste good, anyway."

"I'm sorry, kid," she says. "But-"

"Stopping you there," I hold a hand up. "First off, I'm nearly fourteen, not ten. Secondly, I'm not even forty-percent human. Third, in my other species, I'm an adult, and have been for several years. For the fourth, please know that my sense of smell is so good, I can smell him on you, despite you having taken two showers in the three days since the encounter. You used different body washes for the showers, but the same shampoo and conditioner. The toothpaste you use is strawberry-flavored, your mouthwash is mint, and your floss is strawberry-flavored."

I stop and let that sink in.

"Also," I say. "You're pregnant with twins, both boys. I'd say you're at the three-week mark, though you haven't realized it yet, and it's almost time for you to miss. Congratulations – they'll be a handful, I'm sure. Could I have a couple of strawberry eclairs?"

She nods, numbly grabbing two strawberry eclairs, bagging them, then handing them to the cashier, who rings me up as she wonders who I am and how I did that. I pay, then take my eclairs, sit down, and eat them.

These are really delicious, but I knew they would be. I need to limit myself on sweets, though. If I forget myself, I'll eat nothing but sweets, and I need more than that.

After finishing the eclairs, I begin to walk through the city. Someone's triggered one of father's barriers on a Councilman's property, and there's a fight going on between two Perceptions.

Should I interfere for one of them?

The barrier should protect whoever's inside, so I decide to check out the fight. When I arrive, I see an S-S Perception aiming a gun at an interesting being. An S-Ranked Light and S-Ranked Shadow who also has Perception, at S-A.

The kid – who is probably only about a year older than me – is breathing heavily and covered in wounds. He barely damaged the elder Perception. The elder Perception fired his gun as I arrived, and the bullet blasted through the kid's skull. Kieran. That's his name.

Kieran fades into shadows, and the killer looks stunned.

"That's never happened before."

"Hello," I say, and he snaps his head to face me, looking utterly confused. "My apologies, if I'm interrupting. However, as it's clear that you are killing Superhumans simply for having their power, I am going to eliminate you."

"How can you perceive me?" He aims his gun at me. "Not even the most powerful Perception I've ever come across could."

"Him?" I ask. "He seemed to see you just fine."

"His aura nullified my Perception," he says. "But you shouldn't be able to notice me at all. You're on the other side of a field."

"So I am," I smile at him. "Unfortunately for you, the Ability of Perception doesn't work on a Creator, as we will notice anything within our passive Territories. I'm not as powerful as my big brother, but I'm still quite powerful."

"A Creator," he snorts. "Trying to sound impressive, there? They don't exist, except in stories."

"Trying to sound knowledgeable?" I ask. "Because trust me when I say, we Creators are quite real."

He fires off several shots, his bullets ceasing to exist before they're even halfway to me. He looks stunned.

"In addition to being one of the most powerful Superhumans in the world," I smile as my cloak fades from existence. "It has been quite awhile since I last had fresh meat."

"Fresh-"

Before he can finish, I have run forward, covering the distance between us in less than a second, grabbing him by the throat.

"I am quite hungry," I say as I lift him by the throat. "And as a growing dragon, I need a healthy intake of meat."

The fear filling him… it's delicious. I've restrained myself for so long, it's become bothersome. I am not a being meant to hold back.

"And your meat," I lick my lips. "Smells quite delicious."

His clothes, as well as the impurities on and within his body, fade away as he struggles in my grip. He screams, trying to hit me, but his attacks aren't even worth noticing.

"Scream all you want," I tell him. "My barriers are far more powerful than yours. Not even a Creator would notice us here."

I pull him close to me, and bite into his shoulder. He screams from the pain as I rip out a chunk of his meat. Had I not cleansed his body, he'd probably have pissed and shit himself, but that mess is always a pain to deal with, so it simply doesn't exist.

I chew slowly, savoring the flavor as he flails his legs and his good arm. Human is one of the most delicious species there is. I take another bite out of his shoulder, and he continues to fight me. He doesn't have a lot of tender meat on him, which sucks, and so does his muscle making him tough and chewy, but the human in him makes up for that.

I get to work on his arm after the second bite on his shoulder, and by the time I finish it, he's resorted to sobbing. I'm amazed he's still conscious, after this much pain. Then again, he's using his power of Perception to not perceive the pain anymore.

It takes me a long while to finish eating him, but I want to savor this. It's not often I give in and kill a human for food, usually resorting to their stores, and hunts of wild animals or monsters. The occasional demon.

Since it might be awhile before I leave human civilization, I want to savor this. I make sure to get every last piece of meat off his bones, leaving just them behind.

I erase the blood and bones with my magic, then sit down with my back against the wall, resting from my meal. I may be a lot smaller than the Perception I just consumed, but I could probably still eat a couple more adult humans before feeling full.

Once my rest ends, I erase the blood and guts off of me, my cloak reforming around me. Removing my barriers, I begin to walk away, past the GSDF agents rushing into the ally, not noticing me.

The barriers made it impossible to enter, or to see within. They knew something happened here, though, because of the battle. They don't know what happened after, due to my barriers.

That was a nice meal.

The dragon within me roars, screaming for me, screaming for me to eat my fill and burn this city down, and I quiet it. Now isn't the time to go razing a city to the ground.

Though I've always been tempted to do that, and it seems my older brother razed a fair bit of a larger city to the ground.

He should've invited me. We could've had so much fun razing it all the way to the ground.

"Gah!" I scream in frustrating, drawing several stares from civilians.

Oops.

But still – why didn't he invite me to the razing? He knows I want to do it! It's not fair!

Sighing, I make my way through the city, arriving at the local Fuller Manor. It seems the device that controlled it was destroyed after being activated, trapping the younger Fuller inside with a few others, who he then killed.

He tried using one of his metal manipulations to destroy it, but the barrier was put in place by my father. He won't be able to get out, no matter how hard he hits it.

I could turn it off, of course, but what fun would that be?

Turning, I make my way back into town. My big brother already left, but he can take care of himself, even in his current form. I cannot wait until the binds on his draconic nature are broken.

Imagine – the two of us taking on full dragon forms and burning a city to the ground!

No! I shake my head. He wouldn't burn a city down. Not unless it was filled with monsters and demons and such.

We could finish off Alkran…

That would be a nice snack, too! Many species of demon are right up there in taste with humans!

Arriving at the warehouse he was held at, I scan the surroundings. It's in a flux spot, where magic doesn't work. Not that something like that could bother me. The spot was created by a dragon's soul being shattered here, though it was a very weak, very young dragon, so the effect isn't that far across – just an area around several hundred feet across.

The warehouse is on fire, and I can hear a couple of people inside trying to break free. One of them is of draconic heritage, with the power of fire and air running through him.

So this is Flame.

He has on a zieksharr, which nullifies magic and aura, and cannot be removed, except by those who put it on that person. The corpse inside is likely that person, to make him aware that he'll never use his Ability again, even if he somehow managed to break free.

My magic flows into the land, touching upon the shattered fragments of the dragon's soul, putting them to ease and letting them fade away. It takes me a few minutes to do that, but once I'm done, the nullification of magic exists no more in this place.

Then, I step forward, making my way into the warehouse. Flame and Owen are strung up by chains, and are trying to break free, but can't. The binding of their powers from the zieksharrs prevent Flame's draconic strength from working.

They see me.

"Caleb!" Flame yells.

The flames raging through the warehouse vanish, the building appearing as if new.

"Not quite," I tell him as he focuses on me without the roar of fire, taking in my appearance. "Though it seems my big brother is having an interesting time of things."

The chains holding them form new links, lowering until the two allies of my brother's have their feet on the ground. Then, the chains vanish, and the wounds on their bodies and the damage to their clothes disappear.

"Your… older brother?" Flame frowns, staring at the mark on my chest. "That's an ancient draconic rune. It's one of the first Caleb taught me. Um… I don't know the one it's merged with."

"You know Lusvar, yes?" I ask, and he stares at me. "Like my big brother, I'm a Creator. It's something anyone with more than forty-five percent draconic heritage is, as with all actual dragons. I'm in your head, when I want to be. To be honest, I plucked that knowledge from the ethereal sea. Nomari is the other rune. My true name is Nikvar Nomari, and it means Bringer of Magic."

The zieksharr shatter, and Flame gasps from the shock of his reconnection to his dragon. Owen doesn't react as much, but he still looks at his hands. I've never understood why people look at their hands when they feel a rush of power, but then, humans are quite different from dragons.

Flame is nineteen percent dragon. He is one percent off from being a Territory. Well, more like point-four-two-one-six percent, but still. Less than half a percent means nothing – it must be exactly twenty percent or more.

If he continues to develop his draconic side, it will continue to increase how much of him is dragon in nature. Give him time, and he might become a Territory. All of them might, though he stands the closest. His brothers were only at four percent each, but he was at closer to fourteen percent, when Caleb merged him with Gale's power.

Gale…

Caleb intentionally gave Flame Gale's power. It wasn't a mistake, or something done rushed. It was quite intentional, and I'm not sure I agree with his reasoning.

"I cannot go to my brother's aid," I tell Flame. "Due to factors you cannot be made aware of, but I can aid you in your rescue of him."

"How did you break those?" Flame crouches down, picking up the shards of the amulet and holding it up to the light, examining it. "Magic can't-"

"Magic can," I approach him, stopping right in front of him. "It can do anything you want it to do. The particular species of dragon the one you know as 'Teacher' is stands out from other dragons in that magic bends to our will. My big brother can't harness his full power until those bonds on him break, but for me? I can. If I want it to happen, I will figure out a way to make it happen through magic. The zieksharr are powerful, but even they have their weaknesses. All power comes at a price, after all.

"And that," I say. "Leads me to why I came to seek you out. You are very dear to my brother, and it wouldn't do for you to die, which you would have, had I not saved you. However, I was already on my way here when all this went down."

"I need to get going," Flame looks ready to fight, the fire within him roaring in sync with the dragon. He wants to go. "Can you just give it to me and-"

"I could," I say. "However, you will need to recover."

"Recover?"

"Yes," I nod once. "Recover. I can bestow upon you a gift of magic unlike any other, but as I said – all power comes with a price. Instead of you studying for years – possibly decades, or even centuries – you would be gaining this knowledge quickly, rapidly. In exchange, you would need to give up something. In exchange for a single arm, I can show you enough you'll need for what it to come. I could do a leg instead, but I know that you would much rather lose an arm than a leg."

"If I get hurt-"

"Yes," I say. "It will take you longer to track down Caleb. They won't kill him, and in his current state, any injury he has will disappear when he undoes the Reality he's turned himself into."

"Why didn't it fade?" Flame asks. "When the ziekshard was put on him? Or when they used the cancellation thing? And how come we can use our Abilities and magic now, even though they said this place does it naturally?"

"I soothed the shattered soul," I answer. "And as for Caleb… the zieksharr acts against Reality itself. To it, that is Caleb's real form, not magic, and so, it didn't undo it. They might hurt him, if needed, but if they kill him, then the one you know as Teacher will no longer have any reason to hold back. The zieksharr also prevents magic from being used on those they're placed on, and Father can't get around that."

"But you can?" Owen asks as Flame thinks hard about something.

"Indeed," I nod. "Each of his children has more power than he does. I am the Bringer of Magic, and Caleb is the Bringer of Light and Darkness. A dragon's true names are statements about what we will accomplish in life. Caleb will bring both light and darkness into this world, and I will bring magic to it."

"Both are already here, though."

"Indeed," I nod. "But even Caleb cannot do the things I can with magic, not until he breaks the binds on his draconic heritage. Magic – true magic – has been lost to this world. Before Caleb breaks those binds, I am going to return it."

"I thought the Sage was Caleb's dad?" Flame says, and I stare at him. He stares back at me. "Unless… Teacher is the Sage."

"They are one and the same," I say, and his eyes widen. "Also – Kieran and Jared have both figured this out. Do you accept my offer? It will grant you the power and knowledge of magic you need, in order to protect and rescue my brother."

"If you're so powerful," Owen says. "And so capable with magic, why can't you rescue him? Why put it in the hands of a human with far less draconic blood within him than you? Someone who isn't as controlled and skilled?"

"It's complicated," I say, then look into Flame's fiery eyes. "Would you like to accept my offer, Flame? Even your power as Blaze won't be enough. Know that if you accept, not only will you lose an arm, but you will no longer be a Superhuman."

"What?" Flame takes several bursting steps back, hands up, flames swirling around him. "I have to give up my Ability to-"

"No," I hold up two fingers, a coin appearing between them. "Magic," I turn the coin around. "Ability."

I flip the coin to him, and he examines it, looking at both sides and frowning.

"They both have the rune for magic on it," he says.

"Exactly," I say. "Magic and Abilities – they are one and the same. It is why anything that affects magic also affects Abilities. Your Abilities are, essentially, a shortcut to magic. It cuts out the steps needed and turns it into a single trigger. Abilities 'reserve' your mana, which is why Superhumans generally struggle to learn magic. The ratio is ninety-nine to one. The more powerful a Superhuman is, the more mana they actually have. That allows stronger ones to at least get the basics of magic down, since they have more free mana.

"With the knowledge I'm granting you," I continue. "That 'reserve' will fade away, your Ability returning to its state of just magical power. With your present knowledge of fire magics, as well as the knowledge you'll gain, you won't suffer a true loss. To be honest, you'll become much, much more powerful than you are at present, especially with your mana pool at its full power, instead of most of it being on reserve.

"So," I say. "Do you accept?"

He thinks about it for several long, long moments. When he decides, he nods.

"Remove your shirt."

"Huh?" He looks confused.

"I could clean your shirt with magic," I say. "But regrowing your arm won't work. Your shirt will get bloody. In addition, I need to wound you, in order to begin the process."

Flame hesitates, but then approaches, unbuttoning and removing his shirt, then pulling off his tee as well. He hands them to Owen, trying to look braver than he feels.

He only trusts me because I look like Caleb, and because I saved him and have promised him a way to save Caleb. This loyalty of his will one day be his death, and could potentially also cause others to manipulate him.

My cloak fades away, and I take on one of my draconic forms. I'm still mostly human in appearance, but scales form on my sides, back, and chest, as well as on the sides of my legs and on my arms. My stomach and the rest of my flesh below remains as human flesh, though. A pair of horns grow from my head, and a scaled tail grows from the base of my back, just above my rear. All of my scales are a deep, dark purple that glitter with a touch of gold to them. My violet eyes and golden hair remain the same, and Flame now looks scared. Owen has completely frozen up in shock.

"Please know," I say. "That what you give up for this cannot be returned to you – no magic will restore your arm. The Dragons of Creation likely could, but don't expect them to. They're an interesting lot. The scar from the wound will also remain as well. Are you ready?"

He nods, and I pierce his heart with my tail. He screams, his eyes turning violet, and then he falls silent, staring upwards, back arched, mouth still open, his hair beginning to turn pure-white. Owen tries to free Flame, but I freeze him in place.

The tips of Flame's fingers begin to disappear, and he bleeds. To me, it takes several minutes, but to Flame and Owen, only moments pass from when it begins to when his arm has been completely consumed by the cost.

I pull my tail out of Flame's chest, and he heals, a scar left in its place. Binds begin to form around the wound on his shoulder, as he falls unconscious from the pain and the sudden influx of magical knowledge and awareness.

"I've patched up his wound," I tell Owen as my bind on him ends. "But you'll want to take him to a medical ward, so he can recover. He lost a fair bit of blood from that, and will need to rest a few days."

"But-"

"My big brother will be fine," I say. "You have quite a long time – many, many months, actually – before his life will be in danger, and that won't be from his kidnappers, who want to raise him to be their perfect little soldier."

As if that would work. Caleb would eventually break free of them, even if he never reverted back from his current state. They might kill the guy who put the zieksharr on him, if he escapes, to ensure that he never comes back against them, but it's not like it would stay on him.

As he grows, and the dragon in him matures, the zieksharr would lose its hold over him. Give it a year or two, and the zieksharr would shatter on its own.

And there isn't a chance in hell that they'd manage to turn him to their side in a century. A year or two?

They'd have an easier chance getting Caleb to actually be romantically interested in a human.

Inwardly, I groan. I can't believe everyone thought he wanted to date that girl. He was interested in her, but from a magical perspective, not a romantic one. Once I saw her, I understood the attraction, especially with that crimson aura.

Did he ever figure out what it meant? He never did tell me.

"Hey!" Owen shouts, snapping me from my thoughts. "I don't trust you."

"So?" I ask. "Flame did."

"Flame only did because-"

"Yes, I'm aware," I say. "He will not regret the trade, Owen. It's raining now, so you'd better call for a medic, than take him out. Caleb's scent has already faded, so Flame wouldn't be able to track him, even if he didn't make the trade. When he wakes, tell him 'istori noru na vel temis'."

"What?" Owen asks.

"Repeat it back to me," I say. "I know you're trained to commit things to your memory, and I want to make sure you did."

"Istori noru na vel temis."

"Good," I say. "Tell him that, when he recovers enough to fight again. If I know Caleb, Flame will know what that means."

I turn and leave the warehouse, making my way to a restaurant.

I'm hungry.