Leif awoke to chaos—feet pounding down the hallway, high-pitched shrieking echoing through the wooden walls.

Siblings, he thought with a groggy sigh.

He sat up, blinking against the dim light filtering through his window. Rain tapped gently on the glass, a rhythmic patter that dulled the usual clamor of Embershade’s market square. The orange tint that stained the sky from the smoke and soot of the forges had faded under the downpour, replaced with soft grey clouds. It was rare, but when it happened, the rain felt like a quiet rebellion—nature fighting back against the smog and grime that coated the town.

He walked to the window, watching droplets trace trails down the warped pane.

It reminded him of that night—the one that had shifted everything.

The stars. The open sky. The flash of green light. And Audree.

Weird, intense, brilliant Audree.

Before that night, he’d only known of the boy through whispers: the brooding kid with the always-scowling face, raised by supposed witches who brewed strange things and kept to themselves. Most in Embershade dismissed him as odd, a little dangerous, maybe even cursed. But Leif had always been curious. There was something magnetic about someone so separate from everything else.

And now, after spending a single chaotic day with him, Leif had seen things most people in this town could only dream of. Magic. Or something close.

He wandered across his room, past the piles of scrapwood and half-finished toys, toward his small wall of potted plants. He gently watered each one in silence.

There were things about himself he didn’t understand. Things he’d never told anyone—not even his siblings. Feelings, instincts, strange senses he couldn’t explain. Maybe... just maybe Audree wasn’t the only strange one.

He paused, brushing a finger over the broad, waxy leaf of one of his more unusual plants, watching water bead on the surface.

He thought about what Audree must be feeling—recovering from that explosion, dealing with whatever weird thing had done to his body. Lief mind raced to touching audree after the explosion of light. He was weirdly burned when he touched Audree. Leif had asked Nora daily if Audree was okay. The answer finally came the day before: he’d woken up. He was going to be fine.

Relief had hit him harder than expected.

He was about to return to watering when—

Bang! Bang!

Someone was banging at his door.

“Leif! Open up! Laura’s trying to kill me!”

A second voice shouted, “Give me my stuff back, you little roach!”

Leif rolled his eyes. That was Milo and Laura—again.

He set the watering can down, muttering under his breath, “A loud morning as usual.”

Leif slowly trudged to the door, already bracing for what he knew was waiting on the other side.

He sighed and unlocked it.

In burst Milo—eight years old, shorter than most kids his age, with a mop of brown hair that matched Leif’s own. That was likely the reason Laura, their older sister, had taken to calling him roach—probably something about his scuttling, pest-like energy.

Right on cue, Laura stormed in behind him. Twelve and already possessing the dramatic rage of someone twice her age.

Milo ducked, scurrying behind Leif and clutching at his legs like a terrified mouse cornered by a cat.

Leif held up his hands, forcing Laura to stop. “Alright. What happened this time?”

“That roach stole my bag!” Laura snapped, pointing an accusing finger over Leif’s shoulder.

Milo crouched lower, barely visible now behind his brother. “Well, I wouldn’t have had to take anything if she would just share!”

“IT’S MY STUFF!” Laura shouted, her voice practically shaking the walls.

Leif groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can you two not? I just woke up. Milo, give Laura her bag back. And Laura, please stop calling him a roach. We live in a bakery, for the gods’ sake—the last thing we need is rumors about pests getting around.”

Milo stood up with a dramatic sigh and handed over the bag. Laura snatched it from him like a victorious knight reclaiming stolen treasure.

Leif stepped aside. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He turned to leave before either of them could drag him deeper into the drama. “You two handle the rest of your battle. I’ve got to go help Dad and Percy before you two ruin my morning with a headache.”

Down the hall and into the kitchen, the smell of warm sugar and rising dough wrapped around Leif like a blanket. The kitchen was already bustling, with his father and older brother Percy moving like clockwork—kneading dough, pulling trays from the oven, glazing pastries with practiced hands.

They were making sweet breads today. Sweets were a rare treat in Embershade—sugar was expensive and hard to come by, so most folk didn’t bother. But their bakery? It was the only one in town brave (and stubborn) enough to keep making them. That made the family name carry some weight… even if the morning chaos never changed.

Percy looked up from dusting a tray of buns with powdered sugar. A broad man, all muscle and stubble, with a permanent smirk like he was always in on a joke no one else knew.

“Good morning, Leif. Those two giving you a hard time again?”

From somewhere down the hall came a scream:

“YOU ATE THEM ALL?! I’M GOING TO STRANGLE YOU, ROACH!”

Leif didn’t even flinch. “Less than usual, I suppose,” he replied dryly, heading to the cabinets and pulling out ingredients. While his dad and Percy continued preparing the stock for the day, Leif got to work on breakfast for the family—eggs, sausage, toast, and chopped fruit. Nothing fancy, but hearty and enough to keep everyone from biting each other’s heads off before lunch.

Percy leaned against the counter, watching him work. “So, I heard you’ve been hangin’ around those weird potion makers.”

Leif paused. “Yeah. What about it?”

“Well, as your older brother, I outta warn you about them. Weird stuff happens around those wi—”

Leif cut him off with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard, Percy. They’re actually quite nice. And the rumors about them are blown way out of proportion.”

Percy grunted, unconvinced. “Well, if you go missin’ like some of the other folks ‘round here, I’ll know whose door to bust down.”

There it was again. The whispered fear. The town had lost people—vanished, no clear explanation—and somehow, fingers always pointed to the strange family of potion crafters. Outsiders. Mysterious. Not real mages like old man Haldo. Just something else.

But Leif had seen through the smoke and suspicion. Audree and his family weren’t monsters. They were just brilliant in a way the rest of the town didn’t understand. And maybe that was enough to make people afraid.

He flipped the eggs in the pan and sighed.

Percy set down a tray of pastries and shot Leif a pointed look. “Did you see that light the other day?” he asked, voice low. “People are talking. I don’t think you should be hanging around that kid anymore. That Audree—he’s always doing dangerous stuff. A little freak, to be honest.”

Leif bristled. Just when he’d begun to feel like he’d made a real friend, his brother had to come in and ruin it. He’d been cautious, observing Audree from afar—not stalking, just... working up the courage to form a friendship, okay?

Leif pushed back, voice firm. “Whatever, Percy. Leave me be. With my friends. I don’t care what you think.”

Percy’s expression darkened. “That’s the wrong answer, Leif. We can’t have you bringing that mess here—into our bakery.”

That was it—just as he held the pan, an egg slid off, hitting the floor with a splatter.

“Now, boys—calm down, please.” Their father entered the conversion, graying apron still speckled with flour and sugar. His face was expressionless, as always since their mother had passed. You could never tell if he was actually mad, or just tired.

He glanced at Percy, then at Leif, and spoke carefully: “I heard some of that. Let him be. If Leif wants to go make a fool of himself, let him. He’s past the age where he needs your supervision.”

Percy opened his mouth, but their father shook his head.

“That’s enough, Percy. Now Leif—you go on ahead. Percy and I will finish up. It’s almost opening time; we’ve got customers waiting.”

Leif swallowed, glancing at Percy’s tight jaw and their father’s stone-cold face.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks, Dad,” he said quietly.

He nodded and raced out of the kitchen, breakfast in hand.

Maybe today he wouldn’t have to referee Milo and Laura. Maybe today he could just... be himself.

Outside, under the soft drizzle of Embershade’s rare cleansing rain, Lief ran through the empty streets. The ash-tinted puddles splashed underfoot as he made his way to the same quiet path he had visited every day for the past week.

The same path that led to him.

The boy who had turned the sky clear for a moment. The one causing all the hushed whispers around town. The one the city guards were now all too alert about.

Audree.

From his mom, Lief had heard he should be recovering soon. One day, while loitering just beyond their home, Lief had even spotted someone he was certain was a mage—draped in red robes, walking quickly with purpose. Before Lief could approach, the stranger vanished, disappearing into a shimmering pool of energy as if they had never existed.

This world—the one Audree lived in—wasn’t the same one Lief had always known. It wasn’t flour-dusted counters and crowded kitchens. It was spells, and danger, and secrets wrapped in golden runes. It was... exciting. It made his little life in the bakery feel like a story waiting to start.

So he waited.

In the rain. Sitting on a cold, wet rock like a fool.

People passed by, casting sideways glances. A kid sitting in the rain, soaked through. Muttering to himself.

Lief felt his ears burn. What am I doing? he thought.

“Audree’s parents said he’d be better soon, but that could mean days or weeks. Why am I acting like this?” he mumbled, hugging his knees. “I’ve known him for one day. One. And I’ve seen his parents more than I’ve seen him.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Lief, you’re such an idiot. Sitting in the rain like a weirdo. People are staring. You’re being obsessive.”

He sighed and looked down at the muddy ground, trying not to feel so small.

And then... the door creaked.

Lief froze.

It opened.

And there he was—Audree.

His dark hair slightly damp, his arms wrapped in bandages, but standing tall. Alive. Awake. Their eyes locked for a heartbeat, and in that moment, the rain didn’t feel quite so cold.

Audree stepped forward, his expression unreadable.

Lief, still sitting on that rock, could only blink.

He squinted through the rain.

“…What are you doing out here?” Audree asked, voice low. “It’s raining—”

Before he could finish, Lief shot up and threw his arms around him in a sudden, tight hug.

Audree froze. “…Um. Please don’t hug me, Lief. I’m not much of a hug person.”

Lief pulled back, eyes shimmering. “I thought you died,” he sniffled, voice cracking.

Audree scratched the back of his neck, glancing to the side. “Well… yeah. Apparently it was worse than I thought. My dumb idea almost really did it.”

He glanced around, then added with a deadpan tone, “Also, what are you, some kind of lost puppy? My mom said you’ve just been lurking outside my house every day. You’re scaring off the few customers we even get.”

Lief’s face twisted, the beginnings of tears forming.

Audree groaned, rubbing his temple. “Ugh. This is why I only talk to that old man Haldo…”

He sighed and reached out, patting Lief’s head with the same energy one might use to console a sad cat.

“…It’s whatever, Lief. Just… don’t weird out my parents, okay?” He paused, seeming to think about something. “I assume you have absolutely nothing better to do today—so do you want to tag along while I go bother someone?”

Lief’s head snapped up, a spark of hope lighting his expression. “Really?!”

Audree smirked, walking past him. “Wow, you really are a strange person or i just don't talk to enough people. Maybe both. Come on, let’s go.”

He snapped his fingers like he was commanding a pet to follow.

Lief stood there for a heartbeat, stunned, then scrambled after him with a smile.

He didn’t know where they were going—but for the first time in a while, it felt like he was finally doing something exciting.