Sai guided Lanni through the cozy, warmly lit kitchen, where the savory aroma of cooking stew mingled with the scent of freshly baked bread. After one of the foster chil-dren went to fetch Breyin, Sai focused her full attention on Lanni. Her eyes were sharp and searching as she addressed the topic that had clearly been on her mind. “Ann, are you really serious about your feelings for Jahree?” Lanni’s response was immediate and genuine. “I am.” A pot simmered on the stove. Its contents tended to by Sai’s skilled hand as she carried on the conversation. “You know he’s the same boy you defended a few years ago, right?” With a thoughtful tilt of her head, Lanni gave her a firm nod. “He’s told me about it. I haven’t forgotten, and I stand by what I said in his defense back then.” The conversation shifted as Sai asked, “Did he go into detail about his experiences with his adoptive families?” “He didn’t delve deep into it but shared enough for me to understand his hard-ships.” As she stirred the pot, Sai elaborated on Jahree’s past with a heavy heart. “The first family he was with wasn’t particularly cruel. Aside from their illicit activities, they made sure the children were looked after—well-fed, educated, and clothed adequately.” Lanni’s voice was firm, carrying a note of disapproval. “He mentioned that they would beat them.” Sai exhaled deeply, the weight of the topic causing her shoulders to slump slightly. “They did, but only as a punishment if the children didn’t comply during the robberies. I’m not attempting to justify their actions—what they did was wrong. I’m just saying, it could have been much worse for them.” A moment of silence hung between them before Lanni spoke again, her low with accusation. “But it did get worse for Jahree, and you were the one who put him in that situation.” “We truly didn’t know the extent of that man’s cruelty,” Sai replied regretfully. Her tone was one of guilt, for deep down, she knew she bore some responsibility for the darker chapters in Jahree’s life. “Jahree had adoptive parents who ended up in prison. He shouldn’t have been eli-gible for adoption again,” Lanni pointed out with a tone of exasperation. “We were told he was eligible,” Sia insisted earnestly. “The magistrate explained that the couple’s heinous crimes effectively annulled the adoption. I’m sorry we listened. That poor boy endured so much with that monster during those years.” “Years?” Lanni’s voice rose slightly, betraying a hint of surprise. “He led me to be-lieve it had only been a brief period.” “What does ‘brief’ really mean in a situation like that?” Sia replied sympathetical-ly. “To him, those four years must have felt like an eternity of suffering.” Lanni emitted a low growl of frustration. “Exactly,” Sia agreed. “There was another boy, named Breyin, whom the same man adopted. This man was planning to subject Breyin to the same abuse. Brey told me the adoptive father struck him simply for correcting him. Jahree, witnessing such injustice, couldn’t contain his anger and fought back.” Sia hesitated, lowering her voice as if reveal-ing a grave secret. “Midta claimed that the man’s fatal injury was accidental—that he hit his head in the fall. In reality, Midta lied to protect Jahree.” “He told me he struck him in the head,” Lanni interjected, trying to piece together the murky details. “Indeed, several times,” Sia affirmed, her voice heavy with the gravity of the situ-ation. “Jahree unleashed four years’ worth of pent-up fury on that man. We concealed the truth because exposing it would only serve to force Jahree to relive the trauma during a court proceeding. Besides, there was no concrete evidence to implicate him. Breyin didn’t witness anything beyond the first push.” Sia went on to describe how the two boys had subsequently lived on the streets, driven by fear and desperation. “Jahree was petrified of coming back. He thought places like ours were nothing more than a way station for vile, evil people who wanted to hurt kids. It was Brey who sought us out. Jahree had been subjected to beatings and severe neglect for so long that he fell gravely ill. Brey, terrified that Jahree might not survive, reached out to us for help. Understandably, Jahree wasn’t pleased that Brey brought him back here. “Jahree told me he kept running away,” Lanni said to Sia with a hint of concern. Mama Sia nodded solemnly. “He did, indeed. It became a regular occurrence, several times a month for a couple of years. It reached a point where I would leave food out for him. It wasn’t a solution, but at least it gave me some peace knowing he had something to eat. When he finally stopped, he acted up any time someone came about adopting someone. He was determined he and Brey would never be hurt again.” Lanni considered that for a moment before speaking. “Then he started sleeping around for affection.” Sia shook her head slightly, “No, it wasn’t quite like that. It’s true he did sleep with a few women, but there was one in particular he became serious with. He saw a fu-ture with her and even contemplated marriage. He opened up to her, shared his darkest past, but instead of compassion, she blamed him as if it was his fault. That’s when he started sleeping around.” “And almost got himself killed,” Lanni said referring to what Trean and his friends had done. “They weren’t going to kill him. They were going to mutilate him. They planned to disfigure him so badly that no one would sleep with him again. Maybe he would have died. Midta had a difficult time healing everything. Vaila came to help him. He was too bad off for them to heal all the scars. This is what he looked like when Tey first found him.” She made an image of him. It made Lanni sick. Even as the Monster of the North, she hadn’t been so brutal. Drepal stirred. There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Sia called and made the image disap-pear. Keteel walked into the kitchen, his expression bearing a trace of his recent wor-ries. “Uncle Tey said Antan was here.” Lanni, who had been busying herself at the stove, turned at the sound of his voice. Her face lit up with a warm, welcoming smile. “Keteel. I’ve missed you,” she said affectionately. “How are you doing?” Keteel shuffled his feet, uncomfortable. “Not so good. I don’t remember where Dad went or when he’ll be back. Uncle Tey said I could stay until he comes to get me.” “You know you could contact him telepathically,” Lanni reminded him gently, her eyes soft with concern. “I know,” Keteel admitted, looking down at his feet. “But sometimes I think I’m hearing voices, and it’s confusing.” Lanni understood. “Do you want me to contact him for you?” she offered. Keteel looked up, hopeful. “Yes, please.” Without hesitation, Lanni centered herself and reached out with her mind. Midta? she called telepathically. Midta’s mental voice came through clearly, tinged with surprise. Mom? Is eve-rything okay? It’s fine. Ket’s just confused. He doesn’t know where you are or when you’re coming home. Midta’s mental voice grew apologetic. I just told Tey, I’m in Sen-gan. I’ve been here for a week. I’ll be back in the morning. I’ll let him know, Lanni promised. What are you doing in Thager? Midta asked, curious. Having dinner at the home, Lannis replied, the warmth in her voice indi-cating a family gathering. Will I see you tomorrow? Midta inquired, eagerness in his mental tone. We need to be back in Yarba tonight, Lanni informed him. We? Midta echoed, surprised. Jahree and I, Lanni clarified. Midta’s surprise transformed into concern. You brought Jahree to Thager? You keep a close eye on him. Gladly, Lanni assured him. Excuse me? Mom, you behave, Midta playfully chided. “You mind your manners and don’t boss your mother,” Lanni scolded. Midta laughed softly, the sound carrying through the mental connection. You’re not my mom, Drepal is, he teased her in jest. You watch your mouth, young man. Don’t sass either of us. Drepal’s tele-pathic voice now joined the telepathic conversation, firm and motherly as ever. Yes, ma’am, Midta responded with feigned meekness. I need to go. Take care. See you soon, Lanni sent, her telepathic embrace warm as she ended the connection. Lanni gazed at Keteel with a soft expression. “Your dad will be back in the morn-ing,” she reassured him gently. “Thanks,” Keteel replied, a smile lighting up his face. His eyes held a glimmer of hope as he asked, “Is Grandma Drepal here? Can I speak to her?” Lanni let Drepal take control, “Of course, you can speak to me, Keteel. You’re one of my five favorite grandsons,” Drepal spoke with warmth in her voice. Keteel’s brow creased for a moment. “But you only have two grandsons,” he pointed out, slightly confused. Drepal chuckled softly, enveloping him in a comforting embrace. “Well, I was counting Ann’s grandchildren as well,” she corrected herself with a loving squeeze. Finding a place at the kitchen table, they settled down so Drepal could concen-trate on the task at hand—finishing the chopping of the carrots she had previously peeled. Keteel, eager to be of use, located another knife and started to help with the preparation. “Why do I get so confused?” Keteel voiced his concern, the knife slowing in his hand as he pondered his own question. Drepal looked at him thoughtfully. “I don’t know, dear. Maybe it has something to do with what they did to Grandma Ray,” she offered, trying to find a possible expla-nation. Keteel felt a twinge of sadness. “No one else in the family has these problems,” he murmured. Drepal felt a pang of sympathy for the young dragon. “I’m sorry, Keteel. I honest-ly don’t know why these difficulties chose to fall upon you and not others. Nobody seems to understand,” she admitted. From the moment the first issues surfaced, Midta had started meticulously monitoring him. He had been examined by every healer and ex-pert they knew, but none could identify the root of his troubles. Some speculated that it was connected to his unique heritage as a white dragon, and the number of generations removed from Raylee, the original white dragon. Keteel stood apart as the sole white dragon of his generation while his siblings and cousins all boasted the black scales of their lineage. Keteel continued, his voice tinged with a mixture of acceptance and frustration. “I don’t always mind, even if people sometimes call me names. It gets frustrating when I forget how to do something I could do the week before but it’s not too bad. I usually re-member again eventually,” He paused, his frown deepening. “But sometimes I worry about Dad when he’s gone. What if he can’t come back, like Mom.?” He hesitated, seek-ing confirmation of his memories, “Mom can’t come back, right? Do I remember that right?” With a heavy heart, Drepal nodded affirmatively. “That’s right, your mom can’t come back to us. But remember, she loves you dearly and she’s always watching over you, keeping you safe,” she said, trying to provide solace. Til, Keteel’s mother, had passed away nearly two centuries ago at the Slaughter of Raklar, and it had been a difficult concept for Keteel to grasp fully; the permanence of her absence had taken a considerable amount of time to settle in his understanding. “Your dad is an immortal, just like you. It’ll be many, many years before you need to worry about him passing away,” Drepal tried to alleviate his concerns about his father’s mortality. “But what if something does happen to him?” Keteel pressed on, the thought clearly troubling him. Drepal placed her hand over his, her touch steadying. “If that day ever comes, Ann and I will be there for you. We’d move into your dad’s home so you won’t have any further disruptions,” she promised. Keteel shook his head, clearly unsettled. “I think that would be too confusing for me. I’d wake up every day looking for him,” he confessed. “We won’t let you be alone,” Drepal assured him firmly, “and when the time comes, we’ll figure out what’s best together. Maybe you can live with us, no matter where we are.” She offered him the best solace she could, a promise of unending support and love no matter the circumstances. “But what about Jarhead?” Keteel inquired, his brow furrowed with concern. Drepal frowned, slightly confused. “Jahree? What about him?” “He said that you two are chosen. Doesn’t that mean you’ll be living with him?” Keteel probed further, trying to understand the changes that were unfolding. “Yes, that’s a possibility. Jahree and I might become mates. If that happens you can still live with us. But you know, that shouldn’t affect you much,” Drepal reassured him gently. “Whether we live together or not, you could still stay with us. Otherwise, we could arrange something like your current situation, living next door to us, just like you do with your dad.” “A special house for me?” Keteel’s eyes brightened at the prospect. “Absolutely,” Drepal nodded firmly, making the promise real. Keteel harbored a desire for independence; he was an adult after all, and he felt it wasn’t proper to continue living under his parents’ roof indefinitely. His parents had un-derstood this, providing him with his own space adjacent to theirs. Designed with his safety in mind, the house lacked a stove and each fireplace was constructed to eliminate any risk of accidental fires. He ate with his dad when Midta was home. Other times, Mid-ta left food or money for him to eat at an inn, and he arranged for a tab at a couple of inns and taverns in case Keteel forgot the money. In the community, Keteel was well-known; Tey and Sai were always there to help him out if needed, and the townsfolk were generally supportive, understanding his situation and extending their aid as long as he re-mained nonviolent. If any issues did arise, the guards were instructed to contact the fos-ter home if Midta was unavailable. Contemplating his future, Keteel stated firmly, “I won’t have a mate.” Curious, Sai inquired, “Do you want a mate, though?” “I’m not sure,” Keteel admitted, his voice reflecting his uncertainty. “All dragons have mates.” Drepal probed gently, “Is there a woman you’re interested in?” That question made Keteel frown. “Women are afraid of me. And I might forget and hurt her,” he confessed, the concern evident in his voice. Sai rushed to reassure him, a comforting presence in the conversation. “You wouldn’t ever harm your mate. The bond between you would prevent it.” Keteel expressed his doubt. “But such a bond might only serve to confuse me fur-ther.” “We’ll talk with Raylee once she returns. It’s possible the bond could have a stabi-lizing effect on you, much like it did for me,” Drepal suggested optimistically. “When will Raylee be back?” Keteel asked, a hint of worry surfacing. Drepal sighed, “I’m not entirely sure,” she admitted that Raylee was overdue. “I’ll make it a point to scry for her soon. After that, I’ll scry you as well.” Keteel nodded, murmuring a soft “Thanks.” “I want you to remember that I love you, Ket. I will always be here to support you,” Drepal said earnestly, locking eyes with Keteel. Keteel responded with a small smile, “I know. I doubt I’ll ever forget your sup-port.” Drepal, sensing the time was right, spoke up again, “If it’s alright with you, I’ll let Ann come back now. My presence still seems to make Jahree anxious.” Keteel nodded his agreement. “That’s okay. But you two will need to get along if you’re to be mates. He needs to learn to like you.” “I’m aware, Ket. These things take time,” Drepal replied with patience. She then closed her eyes, focusing inward, preparing for the transition to allow Lanni to return to the forefront. When the change was complete, Lanni’s voice could be heard, gentle and con-cerned, “Do you feel better now?” Keteel relaxed, the tension easing from his shoulders, and admitted, “A little.” He appreciated the care being shown to him and the efforts being made to include him in their lives, whatever changes might come. A young man entered the bustling kitchen where preparations for an extensive dinner were underway. “Are you having a party?” he inquired, looking around at the live-ly scene. Sai turned towards him with a warm smile. “Breyin, good to see you. You remem-ber Keteel, and this is Antan,” she said, introducing him to the other individuals in the room. “She’s my grandma,” Keteel added with a smile that revealed his fondness for the woman he was introducing. “Healer Midta’s mom? Nice to meet you,” Breyin said, extending his hand with respect. The reputation of Healer Midta was well known to him, as it was to many in the community. Antan shook his hand, her expression softening with the mention of her son. “Jahree’s in the sitting room. Go say hi. Dinner will be ready shortly,” Sai instruct-ed Breyin. “Yes, mama,” Breyin responded dutifully, gesturing acknowledgment before he made his way toward the sitting room to greet Jahree. Meanwhile, Lanni moved to set the table. “How many are eating?” she asked Sai, her hands already busy with the dinnerware. “Sixteen,” Sai replied without skipping a beat. “Sixteen? You have a full house,” Lanni noted, a hint of surprise in her tone. She handed the plates to Keteel. “We’ll need the second table. Do you remember it?” she asked. Keteel nodded affirmatively. “I do,” confirming his recollection of the table’s lo-cation and the additional setup required on such occasions. Sai started counting out silverware, fetching enough for every guest. “We’ve had a few more guests in the past, but we’re pretty full tonight. The kids are all cared for,” she remarked, reflecting on the well-being of the younger ones they were hosting. Lanni sighed, her thoughts turning contemplative. “It seems like a lot. Kids should be home with family. It’s hard to think so many don’t care.” “It’s not as bad as that,” Sai interjected reassuringly. “A group of refugees came through a couple of years ago. One couple brought eight kids with them. They claimed six were nieces and nephews. Four of the children came here to our home. Two went across town, and their own two stayed with them,” Sai explained, depicting the situation with clarity. “They’re out working on one of the farms now. They visit regularly. And we also have three orphans, plus one child whose dad is gone and whose mom is sick.” “So, only two runaways? That’s good to hear,” Lanni said, the concern in her voice easing slightly with the knowledge that most of the kids had strong family connec-tions and were in stable situations, despite the challenges they faced. #fantasy #magic #dragons #hiddenlands