There was a feeling of busyness and bustle in the village of Dinsmoor.

"Leave those over there."

"Open those ones up."

"Keep going. Almost there. Vingt, dix-neuf, dix-huit..."

"Yes, there's gunpowder. Plenty of it."

"Get out the coats. Coats and mittens. Not all of them like them, but we can't leave the children shivering."

It resounded in a mixture of lucidity and the garbled language Alfred had yet to learn. Apparently these people were from some country called Ama-twall, but he usually blocked out the noise whenever his new brother brought it up.

Alfred had seen these people before. Or rather, people like them. They were humans, and they covered their bodies with colored fabrics and their feet with tough leather. They had two legs like he used to, only theirs were thick and strong-looking. Their ears were peculiar round shapes, and they stood much shorter than the adults in Dinsmoor.

He scrutinized them closely. One seemed to be in charge, and the others were struggling to carry canoes packed with supplies and sleds with crates on them and an enormous number of skin-bags and bottles and ever so many furs. Their faces were hairy and their eyes sunken from a lack of rest. Bodies quivered with the opportunity to stay here and drop the burdens. They looked like sorry beasts. But at least their bones weren't showing, Alfred thought grimly.

Matthew trotted up beside him wearing a huge grin and trying to tuck fluffy hair behind his ears. "They're here, eh?"

"Are those humans?" Alfred asked, feigning confusion.

"Yes, those are humans. Have good manners, now. They're our guests."

Something about the humans' presence stirred up confidence in Matthew. He picked up his hooves with purpose as he led his brother over to the traders. Seeing that they weren't dangerous, Alfred bounded over after Matthew in an exaggerated canter and planted his own hooves firmly on the ground next to him.

It was then when Matthew started speaking that same weird language to the traders, and Alfred was again lost in the frustrating world of things he would have to understand quickly if he were to survive here.

"Voici mon nouveau frère," Matthew explained, placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder. Alfred jolted, his front hooves kicking up and his muscles tensing. He planted them on the ground again and looked to the human peering curiously down at him. He wasn't sure why he nearly kicked the man. It wasn't his brother's touch which startled him, but rather the sight of those… things on the human's belt. What were they, and why were they so menacing? Their image chilled him from the inside.

"Don't be scared. Introduce yourself. They speak our language, too," Matthew whispered.

"I'm Alfred," he said, putting out his hand.

"Pleased to meet you," said the trader. "You two look like twins. Are you sure I haven't met you before?"

"Mattie is my brother by heart," Alfred said proudly.

"Yes, we took him in. He and his mother were nomads, but they were separated," Matthew added.

"Really? Then, quelle coïncidence!"

The traders unpacked with a bit of help from the villagers, and several more times, Alfred felt the weird sensation. A tingling in his skin and a chill in his chest. What were those strange objects? Not all of the traders had them, but the ones who did seemed to pay them no mind. Neither did anyone else. Why couldn't he bear to look at them, then? Was it because of what he was? What was he, anyway? He only knew he was some kind of fairy, and fairies were magical beings.

"Don't stare," Matthew urged, tugging on his brother's arm.

Alfred snapped back to the present. He had forgotten. No, he wasn't a fairy. He needn't ponder, needn't consider, needn't even let fairies or magic — that was another word — cross his mind. He was a calf. A Homoalces. He would grow up to have paddles on his head and strong, firm muscles in his body. That's what he was. It was his mission now to be just that. Forget he had ever been anything else. Forget he could be anything else.

He looked at Matthew again — at his timid smile and silky hair and lilac eyes. Yeah, this life was nice. In this life, he had a brother and a family and a full stomach.

A knot suddenly marked itself present in his heart. It had lessened considerably since he'd first met his brother, but it was still there pulsing faintly and sending tremors of fear through him. The fear that made him want to crawl into a hole and scream and scream with a voice that wasn't his own. He tried to forget. He held his head high and tried to forget he'd ever even wanted to… throw that stone…

"You're worried about something," Matthew said.

"No I'm not."

"You are. I can see it in your eyes. What's bothering you?" Matthew furrowed his brow in concern. He stopped walking. Alfred realized he'd been stalling.

"Quit asking. There's nothing wrong."

"I suppose you miss her, eh? Your mother? I'm sorry I keep bringing her up."

Yes! An opportunity! The corner of Alfred's lip tensed. His mind ripped itself away from the memories and focused on the task at hand: drawing attention away from his true sorrows and leading it to his fake ones.

Alfred dropped his eyes to the ground. "I miss her, yeah," he whimpered, digging in the dirt with a hoof. His lip jutted out. "I really miss her."

Matthew stepped back a bit and gave his brother a pat. "I know how you feel."

"No, you don't! You'll never know!"

Matthew looked fretful. He glanced around to see that no one was staring at Alfred's all-too-common outbursts. "Yes, I do. I lost Francis, my friend and mentor. He quit trading so he could train and become a knight. He's staying in Amotoile and not coming back. I know how it feels to be separated from someone you love. It's okay. Alfie, please don't cry. You'll make a scene, and we have visitors."

He wasn't yet crying, but it occurred to him that he could, and that would draw even more coveted attention to him.

His ear suddenly twitched. One of the humans was calling for him. He looked to see the same one he'd spoken to earlier waving something in the air and beckoning. Matthew had already seen.

"A new coat," Matthew explained. "I think mine from last year is still good, but you don't have one."

"A coat? Like…" He looked back at his fur in confusion.

"No, for the parts without fur. The traders bring human coats for us to wear in the winter. They're kind of uncomfortable, but they're warmer than the ones we make."

This was news. Curious, Alfred trotted over to wear the trader stood. The trader, in turn, bent down and offered the long coat. Alfred took it in his hands and twisted his face in genuine confusion.

"Let me help you put it on. It'll be a little big for you, but you'll grow."

Put it… on? They're warm? Alfred's mind reeled. What was this? This man was giving him something warm? Warm as in… not cold? Like more fur? As he put his arms through the sleeves, he struggled to understand. The long coat hung over his back and down to his knees. It felt strange over his body, like a second skin that was loose and waiting to fall off. And it didn't feel like fur. It again reminded him of the accursed identity he swore to forget. This coat was like his lies and this shape. He really was just a cold, miserable… something.

"Is it warm enough?"

"It's very warm. Thank you," Alfred said. "Th-thank you so much. Really, thank you. A thousand times."

"It's really no trouble. I don't want you shivering. It can get so cold here in the winter. In a moment, we'll find some mittens and a hat, too."

When he heard this, time slowed to a crawl, and Alfred felt his heart lurch in his chest, (or was it his two hearts?) What was this human saying? He didn't want Alfred to freeze? He… cared? No, he didn't know what Alfred really was, but he was giving him a gift. A gift that would keep him warm. A gift given with love and thoughtfulness and kindness. Real, genuine care. It was something he never got from the wild animals or the fishermen who screamed and drew weapons when they saw him, but it was something he received everyday from Matthew and the people in Dinsmoor and here in this moment from this trader whom he hadn't even learned the name of. Alfred was cared for. Alfred was accounted for. Alfred belonged.

"Thank you," he forced again.

"You're welcome. Really, no need to thank me anymore."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Now, of all times, he did cry. He threw his arms around the trader's chest and pressed his face against him. "Thank you. Thank you for caring so much. Thank you!"

"Alfie…" It was Matthew by his side. He looked quizzically at Alfred's sputtering mess of composure. "You can let go of him. It's just a coat. They haven't even unpacked the candy yet."

"Thank you… for caring."

Then he turned his attention to Matthew and clutched him close. "And thank you for being my brother."

"Hey, Matthew?" Alfred asked. He set the book down on his lap and quaffed the rest of his tea. Matthew sat over by the fire marveling at how the grate could contain it and warming his hands next to its friendly glow.

He turned back to look.

"I'm a fairy."

"I know."

"I never told you, though, when we were younger. Can you let me tell you?"

Matthew shifted a bit. "Okay. You can tell me."

"I'm not like you. I'm really a fairy, a changeling, and I have magic powers. I can transform into anything I see. I can mimic any creature's voice. I can make blue fire by waving my hands. I don't really look like this. I'm really very pale and sickly, and my bones show, and I have sharp teeth and long, pointy ears. I copied you to look more normal. I almost copied you completely. That's because…" He held himself rigid.

"Go on. You can tell me again," Matthew coaxed.

No, Alfred thought. I'm not ready to tell you that, yet.

"'Cause I fell and broke my leg, and then I saw you and changed into you."

Matthew smiled after the crackling of the fire filled the air for a moment. "It feels good to hear you say that. Like closure. You're telling the truth."

That's not… "Closure… yeah. Hey, thanks for not giving up on me."

"That's what brothers are for, right?"

Their moment of bonding was interrupted by Francis, who stormed into the drawing room clutching a bottle of wine in one hand and his swallow seal letter in the other. "They left the city. Ivan was visiting his sisters, and he smelled their trail. We have to follow them."

"It's, like, the middle of the night," Alfred replied. "Aren't you the one always complaining about not getting your manly beauty rest?"

"Non, il est minuit moins le quart, and they will only get farther ahead," Francis whined in interjection. His speech was curiously slurred. "We'll have to chase them again. They're going to Allegria. If they get to Allegria, we'll just have a hard time. Amotoile's wards are petty compared to the ones they can weave with their spells, and your reckless ideas would get you into a world of trouble."

"Hey, man, back off. I'm not sure where Allegria is, but it's probably miles and miles away from here. Plus, like I said, it's the middle of the night. They're probably sleepin', and we'dafta pack up all our stuff. Also, I won't go anywhere 'til I've had another one of your breakfasts. Oh, hey, can you also make this thing called 'hotdish?' Hamburger rice hotdish?"

"I know it's an urgent mission, but Alfred's right. You should try to rest. You're already stressed."

"Don't even think about waking Yao up. He'd probably dropkick you into the wall and then start mouthing off about how his back hurts if he yawns. All he needs is a rolling pin to work out those kinks. Or, hey, he could drink his own tea. This stuff works miracles." He raised his cup, only to remember it was empty and make up for it with an endorsing smile to the elder.

"And Irunya and Natalya haven't finished our new clothes," added Matthew. "Al and I don't have anything decent to wear."

"Another good point. Your clothes are just uncomfortable, and every time I've worn something of Arthur's it's always too tight around my waist. Dang fairy measurements."

"Ivan could stay behind and bring them to us," Francis suggested.

"Ivan is our tracker," Alfred said flatly. "Go back to bed."

After a bit more arguing, the two brothers did convince Francis to return to bed. Then they returned to a more relaxed state. Matthew gave a soft, mewling yawn and stretched out on the rug in front of the fireplace.

Alfred, in turn, yawned and stretched his arms over his head. "Normally, I'd jump right into going after them even in the middle of the night, but I feel so relaxed and comfy. Arts let me borrow his big black book of banned black magic. Dude thinks I'm looking for a sick way to beguile him, but I've just been reading folktales. That fire's warm, too. I s'pose it's chilly outside. I was just thinking about the first time the traders gave me a coat."

Matthew looked puzzled, but his bewilderment quickly morphed into a wide grin. "Oh yeah, you started crying, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"You were happy. No shame in showing your gratitude."

"You can't understand how happy I was. It was crazy. You're out on your own with nature and sickliness trying to kill you, and then you find good people and realize someone wants to take care of you. I was ecstatic. And then I got to be warm. This mission kinna reminds me of that. Wow, you guys all know my secret, and yet I'm snuggled up here in this cozy chair next to the fireplace with a book — a book I got from a new friend."

"Yeah. It's funny. Just a few nights ago I wished I could be in here sitting by this fire, and it came true. I'm still uneasy with this body, though."

"You'll get used to it."

"That's coming from you."

"Touché. Hey, Matt? Why's Francy so pissy lately? It can't all be from me going into the city."

"No, not all of it."

"So you know? You told him he was stressed."

"He told me about some things while we were on our walk alone together. It's best you don't ask him about it, but he's really worried about his job."

Alfred groaned in annoyance. "And suddenly, I don't feel so included anymore."

"Well, here's what he told me. Knights are supposed to protect the people. It's their duty to make sure everyone is safe. One of Francis' many responsibilities is to get rid of, uh, not-humans swapped with humans."

"But I'm not swapped with anyone. That was the first thing I told everybody."

"Listen. Francis said that when you first revealed yourself, he fainted. That's because he'd never met one who wanted to be known before. To him, they're all like he sees in his missions. They're ruthless, heartless creatures that get really aggressive and do use magic to hurt people. Or they're just plain liars and thieves, taking the shapes of others and pretending while the victims are subject to the unknown.

"And they never show who they really are unless forced even if it's painfully obvious. But you, you showed him and the others. You changed into your true form, and then you started helping and talking about how much you want to help. Francis doesn't understand."

"Since when is being a helpful person hard to understand? Arthur drank poison. A heartless monster would let him die."

"He understands that you're a good person. He doesn't understand why. Al…"

"What."

"Francis told me he's wanted to turn you in a few times."

"Turn me in… as in kill me?" His eyes widened in disbelief.

"Not kill you. Never kill you. He's killed them before, and he can't handle the cruelty. Still, he told me he believes in the protocol, and that's branding you with a fire poker across the back or the chest with the words Fée née de L'Ombre."

Alfred squirmed. Such a poker leaned against the bricks of the fireplace as they spoke. "I don't believe you. Francis wouldn't do that."

Matthew shook his head. "No, he wouldn't. Because every time he's wanted to, he remembers that time you saved Arthur's life. And he remembers the time you risked your own trying to steal the wand. And he remembers how you could've swapped yourself out with me, but you didn't. You decided to become my twin instead. And he remembers how you've made a life for yourself with people who know who you are and still let you stay.

"And that's why he's worried. Because he's beginning to see you have a heart, and he wonders if the others he's seen on his missions might have them, too. He thinks there might be a misunderstanding and that you are capable of caring after all."

"I wouldn't call it a misunderstanding. A lot of changelings make mischief and cause havoc just because they want to. It's in our purple blood. Even taking kids is a habit flowing in our veins. A rite of survival. The knights aren't wrong for at least believing in the concept of protecting people. Even I'm a little…" he broke off.

"What? You've taken a calf, er, a kid?"

"No, but sometimes I do and think things that are just… really not nice," he whispered.

"To err is… fair."

"But he's right. If Francis thinks changelings are heartless freaks, then I'm not a changeling. I've got the valiant heart of a hero. Oh, shit, Mattie, can you really hide that poker or something? It's... now that you brought it up, I just can't look at it. I feel like my heroic little heart's gonna explode, and that's not a good feeling." He gasped, and fearful twittering escaped his throat.

"Sure thing," Matthew said. He crawled over and took the poker in his hand, then seeing nowhere it could really lay without being seen, stowed it under the woven rug in front of the fireplace. Alfred's eyes were squeezed tightly shut as he did this. "You really shouldn't worry. Francis is stressed for other reasons, too. His wife is in a lot of danger, and he feels pressured by the responsibility and longevity of this mission. It's only natural he's a little edgy. Listen, I drank Arthur's potion to be closer to you. I want you to know that I would stand against Francis or any other knight if they even attempted to do something like that. I was already pissy to him big time, and you know how hard it is to make me angry enough to show it."

"You would really do that?"

"Of course. He doesn't know you like I do. Sometimes I feel like I don't know you completely, and I still wonder whether you're completely truthful, but I know you're not a monster. Heartless? That's freakin' ridiculous. Heck, even if I were still a fully-grown Homoalces bull, paddles and hooves, and I saw someone trying to burn you with that poker through the window, I'd burst through the glass and topple over that chair you're sitting in with my paddles and make a big mess of things. You always did the same for me when I was in trouble."

"Psh, you can't rampage. You're Unseen Matthew."

They laughed, then, basking in all the brotherly love conjured by memories and experiences. Then, Alfred returned his eyes to the book while Matthew became lost now in his own reveries of childhood, his silky hair and strange curl falling across his face like wavy, pale-amber rivers and his chest rising and falling steadily. He closed his eyes and let the warmth of the fire bathe him in sleepiness.

"So, is there anything you want to do now that you're human?" Alfred asked suddenly. "You wanna learn to ride a horse?"

"Maybe. Riding sounds kind of nice. There is one thing I really want to do, though."

"What?"

"I want to learn how to play a bass trombone. I heard it once. It's like bellowing, kind of, but purer. A nice, deep, rich sound."

"I definitely didn't expect you to say that. Bass trombone, huh? You strike me as more of a clarinet kinna guy."

"Bass trombone," said Matthew. "I think it fits me. I'd really like to learn to read music. Did you ever learn?"

"Yeah, I play in the Academy's concert band. Started on trumpet but switched to baritone. It's really one of the only things I'm good at in school. That and magic history, biology, all the stuff that doesn't actually involve spellcasting. I can memorize facts, but trying to do light magic is hell."

"Oh, I want to learn how to play hockey! I want to ice-skate!" Matthew exclaimed with sudden fervor. He whipped his head up and looked back at his brother with excitement.

Alfred smiled in humored pity. "Maybe make that a goal for later on, 'cause ice-skating is a few steps up from walking, and you can barely walk, my dude."

Ludwig shivered. He felt his breath come out in white mist. The world blurred around him. Everything was dark and shapeless and constantly in motion, save for the silent flakes of snow fading in and out of his watery vision. The sounds of voices reverberated off the walls of this bizarre pocket of space-time. Screams of terror sounded, and a sound like grinding stones, and the pure pitch of Feliciano yearning for something just out of reach. Then there came the quiet sound of his own heartbeat and a feeling of gentle yet erratic rocking, as if he were on a ship, though he couldn't see where he was or hear any water crashing.

He felt himself ascend from the dream. His weak, astral limbs affixed themselves to his real ones, and he rolled his head to the side. Memories flashed back. He was outside, it was nighttime, and he was the dog-man.

"What is this strange creature Felice's made friends with?"

"I should be asking what kind of strange creature you are," the dog-man snarled. His eyes suddenly burned blue, and he snapped at the stranger. His muscles tightened in defense. The stranger reeled back, yet did so casually, as if not really afraid the dog-man could do him any harm.

He was transparent and glowing like Kiku. A spirit. He was much older than Ludwig — already middle-aged with the graying stubble to prove it. An unkempt mess of curls fell in and out of his honey-brown eyes. And he had wings on his back — scarlet ones with gold flecks that were curled at the tips and decorated with hanging jewels. He was the spirit of a fairy. But why was a fairy spirit watching him while he slept? This was a violation of territory!

"What? You can't assume things?" The fairy spirit asked, breaking his dangerous thoughts. "You've been traveling with my grandson, but you can't recognize his adorable face in my strong, handsome one?"

"You're…" Ludwig broke off. Wait, was this…? "You're Roma?"

"Of course I'm Roma. Supreme enchanter of the Mediterranean! You should honestly be able to recognize me better."

"How are you here? And is this really you? You're Feliciano's grandfather?"

"Eh, I'm a spirit, but I'm here! Here and visiting my sweet little grandson!" Roma bent down and fawned over… Feliciano?

"Why is Feliciano sleeping next to me? I told him to go and find somewhere in town! Where's Lovino?"

"I went to my sweet Lovino already. He's in town, yes. Feliciano is here. I dunno, maybe he was worried about you being lonely. You should really get yourself a beautiful woman for that kind of thing. You seem like you would love the super hot ladies."

"Kind of hard to get any kind of lady when I turn into a beast every night," Ludwig replied hotly.

"Ah, but out of the ladies I met when I was around, I know there were some who would've loved to get it on with a—"

"Are you really Roma? You're making yourself very suspicious, and these fangs aren't just for show."

"Now, come on. I'm a spirit. You can't hurt me, and you wouldn't be able to hurt me if I were really alive. I'd sing a single note and whoosh, off you'd fly. Should I explain all the things I've done? All the deeply complicated spells I cast with my alluring voice? You know Feliciano inherited his beautiful voice from me. Oh, he's grown to be such an excellent musician! He doesn't even know how proud I am. And Gigi would've just loved him to pieces. A third Roma who can sing grapes into wine."

"Gigi?"

"He's so cute. My little grandson has gotten so big. Deep red hair just like mine was at his age. I shouldn't have dyed it." He tried to pet his grandson's hair and winced when his translucent fingers passed through his corporeal form.

"Feliciano aside, why are you here? You seem to know about our quest."

"Your quest? I don't really know about a quest. I've seen you traveling with Feliciano and that burdened one — I saw him earlier trying to help some children back to sleep. But I don't get to visit as a spirit much, so I don't really know what my little one gets himself up to. Tell me, he went to Straffino, right?"

"He studied music in Volkerburg under a human tutor."

Worry flashed in Roma's misty eyes. "What!? But he has so much power! More than he's realized if he hasn't learned to unlock it. This boy needs to go to school so he can understand his powers, or he'll waste his potential!"

"He's searching for that treasure you promised he would find. Perhaps that would help him understand his power."

"Treasure? A treasure I promised? Oh, it must be, well, I couldn't tell his friend, now could I?"

"Is it the sogno amulet? The wish-granter?"

Roma's mischievous expression melted. "You know that much, though I can't tell you where it is. I wonder. How did he find out what it was before he found it?"

"My brother found the dream wand fashioned to match it. Your name was carved into it. I can show it to you."

"Wand?" Roma muttered to himself.

He fished awkwardly in his bag with his huge paw-hands before successfully scraping open the wand box with his claws. The wand lay humbly with bite marks in its figure, but otherwise still undamaged. The laurel branch engraving glistened in the moonlight.

"This was yours, wasn't it? It was stolen from you. My brother bought it from a traveling merchant, and I met Feliciano after he wrote a letter asking about it. We're companions in the quest to find it. I thought maybe it could help me undo my curse, but it's Feliciano's inheritance, of course."

Roma looked amused. "That's such an old wand! I thought I lost it! Perhaps it ended up with the other things people have lost. Ah, the amulets only needed the wish of a fairy to work, so the wands were used less and less, and I must have stored it away somewhere and never found it, and then… then I died, and this and that. I guess it could be like an extra little inheritance for him. A good thing he didn't find that and assume it was the treasure, eh? Though he probably inherited all my other old wands. Wands are like wine. The wood becomes more magical with age. You wouldn't know that, would you?"

"Not in the least," said Ludwig as he tried to once again pack the box away as neatly as he could. "I've been told a curse like mine can never be lifted. Could this amulet do the impossible?"

"Nothing is impossible if you have passion in your heart. The songo converts passion into miraculous energy," replied Roma. Then he took on a more warning tone. "Just don't start thinking my treasure belongs to you. It is my grandson's."

"Yes, I know that. I intend to only wish for this one thing."

"Well, I guess sometimes it's good to share wishes as long as you're friends," he laughed. "But even with the deepest passion, you can't wish for everything, and wishes can't solve every problem. Neither should you take wishes from someone else." This last part he said with a strange spark in his eye that made Ludwig squirm in place.

"I wish we could know where it is."

"You can't wish for everything," Roma repeated with a broad smile. "If the sogno's location has stayed a secret for this long, it can stay a secret until the very end. Besides, if Feliciano has all the answers, he won't be excited at the end of his quest."

"A clue, then."

"It's in a place that's very special to him, near a place where he does what he loves the most."

"We know that. He remembers what you told him as a child. We searched the capital of Amotoile, where you used to paint with him."

"Do you need any more clues? Feliciano knows the place where it is."

"Well, we've been thinking of searching in Allegria. Back at his home."

"Fine by me. Allegria is the most beautiful country in the world."

"But the question is of if the amulet is there."

Roma just shrugged. "I don't know."

"Did you lose the amulet, too?"

"No. I told you. Feliciano knows the place where it is. He will eventually find it. I didn't make it hard."

"If you ask me, it's been unbelievably hard. I've been chased by a pack of confused mercenaries that thinks I'm some kind of liaison to a dark wizard. And Feliciano was taken and replaced by a changeling, and I thought the changeling really was him until he burned himself on my scissors. If Lovino had given me my cloak in time, I might not even be lying here outside of town. And those are just my hardships! Look at your grandsons! Look at Lovino's wing!"

Roma's wings fluttered in nonexistent wind. "What was your name?"

"Ludwig of Volkerburg."

"All right, Loota-vig of Folka-burg, listen to me. If you could be granted any wish, what would you do to deserve that wish?"

"I—"

"Wealth, fame, happiness, whatever you wished for, you wouldn't be truly happy unless you worked for it. It always feels more satisfying to earn something rather than simply receive it with no effort. The greatest gifts can demand great sacrifice. You say this quest has been hard. Perhaps it's been hard for a reason. Maybe you're just coming of age, and you're learning about the world and yourself. You shouldn't make wishes unless you've encountered trials. Although, I guess in my day, I made a lot of them. Passionate wishes. You must focus on your passion~"

"Will you shut up!? You say the trials of this quest on top of simply being cursed are what deserve me of the end of it? I'm already the adopted brother of the most notorious person in Volkerburg. Look at me! I'm nineteen, and I don't even understand friendship, much less romance or passion! I've tried to bond with people my age, but when the stars come out... " He gave a ferocious string of barks that echoed off into the night and caused an owl to fly from its perch.

"You're being too negative. Come on, a powerful treasure was never gained without a good quest — even simple ones. Don't make this harder than it already is. Simple, simple."

"I'm tired and stressed. That's what I am. And this form — it warps my thinking. How can I learn anything about myself when I'm not even myself?"

"You should rest. Take a day off. Drink some wine. Find a pretty lady during the day and serenade her for an hour. Take a nice, long bath. Oh, now I wish I were back."

"I prefer beer," Ludwig grunted, ignoring most of the preceding.

"Then drink beer. Life is hard enough. You don't need to make it harder just because of extra complications. Just do what makes you happy. Tell that to Lovi for me, please?" Roma gave an expression of sincerity. His honey eyes were pleading.

The look was enough to restore some humanity in Ludwig. He angled his muzzle toward the ground. "Feliciano sounds just like you. Women and wine. That's all he talks about. I'm sure Lovino just as much."

"I'm happy for my boys. The interest is healthy. Oh, their mother must be proud of them. I love them so much. Grandpa loves you, Feliciano. You still make me happy. I named you, you know."

Feliciano shifted in his sleep and murmured something that sounded like "cannoli."

"So cute," Roma mused. He then paused and peered at a hand, which was starting to fade completely out of sight. "I have to leave again soon. This world is only a dream to me. I wish I could stay longer."

"You can't wish for everything," Ludwig muttered.

"Ah! You're using that against me, are you?"

"Not at all. You said it yourself."

"I guess I did," Roma said sadly. "But you can wish for really good things and hope they come true. You be kind to my grandson, okay? I don't know if you've noticed, but he is able to see beneath your beastly exterior. He understands what friendship is."

Roma then bent down and tried as closely as he could to kiss Feliciano on the forehead. "Ti voglio bene, il mio Feliciano."

"Why did I decide to sleep outside?" Feliciano muttered when he awoke the next morning. He sat up and stretched his wings, then shook them. Condensation flew everywhere. He was dripping with it. At least it wasn't frost, he thought to himself. That would've been scary, what with Lovino's hardship already. Perhaps they should both find cloaks for the coming chill of winter.

He heard whimpering and the snapping of bones and looked over to see the hulking shape of the dog-man slowly beginning to shrink. Claws flattened, fur receded, and ears stretched down back to their normal, rounded positions. The fur on his head started to lighten into a matted blond. Even in sleep, the creature grit his teeth as if he were in anguish. Feliciano watched in crude fascination. He'd seen the reversion before, but this was something different. He'd never seen Ludwig asleep during.

"I… I woke up before Doggie did? Did I really? I'm awake, aren't I?" He pinched his cheek, and it stung. A bemused expression painted itself upon his countenance. "I am awake before Doggie!"

"That would be a first," said Kiku, floating near. "Would it not?"

"I'm speaking with enthusiasm, and I'm sitting up, and my eyes are open! Well, as open as I like them — that sun is bright this morning. Wow, I can't believe it!"

"A cause for celebration?"

"Well, I don't know if it's that exciting, but sure! Let's go find Lovino and eat even more pizza! Hey, I even dreamed about Grandpa Roma last night! He said I'm going to find the amulet!"

Ludwig slept on. If anything, he saw the entire experience as a dream.

~N~

In response to the guest review, yes, this story will remain without pairings.

Vingt, dix-neuf, dix-huit- Twenty, nineteen, eighteen

Voici mon nouveau frère- This is my new brother

Non, il est minuit moins le quart- No, it's a quarter to midnight

Ti voglio bene, il mio Feliciano- I love you, my Feliciano