Disclaimer: I don't own anything.


Later that evening, I was about to get ready for bed when someone knocked on my door. "Yes?"

Dad opened the door with his elbow and entered. He was carrying a box and put it down on the floor next to my bed.

"What's that?", I asked with a frown.

"That stuff belonged to your mother." He straightened up again and looked at me insecurely. "I don't know whether there is something that could help you among that stuff, but she would have wanted you to get it."

I needed to gulp because my throat became dry. Instead of answering I walked over to him and hugged him. First, he was surprised, but when he hugged me back, I suddenly felt like the small boy again that was in the arms of his father.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you of the hunting trips", I muttered.

He exhaled loudly. "It's okay. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about your mom and your heritage."

I just nodded because I was speechless. I may have forgiven him, but it still hurt that people close to me had lied to me. Like an injury that hurt and needed time to heal fully. He let go of me and smiled at me faintly. "Try to sleep. And no hunting trips tonight."

I scoffed quietly, but I needed to laugh one moment later. "Don't worry about that, I won't go."

Though I couldn't promise that I would stay home tomorrow, in two days, or all the other nights that would follow. I could still remember how I turned that elemental into ice and how it shattered in front of me. How many elementals I had encountered in Quiraing. I just needed to go back. And if Blaine was right, they would hunt me from now on because I was about to become one of them, right? A shiver ran up my spine but I suppressed that sentiment as fast as the growing fear. I wouldn't start hiding now.

"Sleep well, kiddo."

I looked after dad when he left my room and closed the door behind him. Only when he was gone, I turned to the box. Everything within me wanted to look at every single item mum had owned. Even though my muscles hurt and I was exhausted, I kneeled down slowly, opened the box, and took out the first item: a photo.

It showed mum with her shoulder length dirty blond hair. She wore a turquoise dress and knee length boots to a grey trenchcoat. She held the hand of the eight-year-old version of me, I wore a sweater, a scarf, and a hat because I had been shivering. It was the last photo of her. I knew because I had looked at it countless times before. It had been taken the day we went to the haven. The day she died. If she was dead, for that matter…

That was the last thing I was thinking when I climbed into my bed and fell asleep with the photo in my hands. At night, I was dreaming of boat trips, the deadly ocean, storms, monsters of ice, and two boys that could create lightning and fire.

The next morning, I woke up at sunrise. The photo was still laying on my pillow. I forlornly stroked mum's face and took it out of the frame to hang it onto the light chain above my bed. A lot of pictures were already aligned next to each other: Some of Eleanor and me as children, or the one where dad, Carole, Finn, and I had made that trip across Venice in Italy, an old picture of mum and dad, one of my first climbing tour, and a couple of pictures of trips and parties my schoolmates had invited me to. Now, the photo of mum was also part of my small collection of pictures.

I got up, went to the bathroom shortly, and boiled coffee - I planned on drinking it with one, two scones. Cup and plate in hand, I returned to my room. A couple of hours later, both had remained untouched on my desk. I was sitting on the floor with the stuff of mum scattered across my room: old pictures and letters, drawings of my mother of Skye, Aberdeen, and Edinburgh, notes, clothes, and the empty perfume flacon that still reminded me of her as well as the map of Scotland with all its borders that divided the country into five zones. For the five big clans? There were no comments on the map, but that was the only thing that made sense.

The part at the top were the Orkney islands to Inverness. The part in the centre included the highlands and Ben Navis, the highest Mountain of Britain. On the right, the east coast as well as the land close to Inverness and Dundee belonged to another clan. The territory of the Campbells was Skye and all the other islands that were left. Even the ones that didn't know of the clans did know the Campbells; after all, they owned the Dunvegan Castle. The last part was the south of Scotland, Edinburgh included. That's where the fireclan must live. It was just an assumption, but the way Sebastian had talked was familiar. There had been a faint accent I couldn't quite pinpoint. Only this morning, it had come to my mind again because Eleanor had mentioned it: Glasgow. Only people from Glasgow talked like that even though it was only an almost unnoticeable difference in pronunciation. I wrote names onto post its and stuck them to the map. Only air, earth, and energy were left now.

Sadly, there were no other hints that indicated where the other clans were from. But… I took the photo that showed me and Len as babies in the arms of our mothers. It hadn't been taken on Skye, but in… I turned the piece of paper around. Aberdeen. Of course. The Jones ruled Eastern Scotland. Now, two territories were left: the north and the highlands. Sighing, I took my cup and took a sip of my cold coffee, then I tried sorting my notes in my diary. Most of them didn't make any sense to me. Not even mom's diary. She had been writing about dad and me or the elementals – but nothing about her own family. What had happened?

But then, I found a word she had mentioned more than once: archive. I searched through entries and documents until I found the right term. The archive of Edinburgh. People said that all the documents and testaments of all the clans were stored there, from birth to marriage certificates to death certificates. I froze. Dad and I may not know what had happened to mum. We just assumed that she drowned like all the other people that had died at the accident. But her own clan must know the truth. Especially if it stored documents about all its members at that archive. But where exactly was it? Edinburgh was such a big city, and I had no idea where to start searching.

It's been years since I had been there for the last time. I had been so little back then, and the city had seemed to big to me with all its tourists and street artists. So that was the place where I was supposed to find what I was searching for?

Everything about mum?

Everything about myself?

I needed to go. No matter how, I needed to find that archive. I needed to find out whether mum really died that day, I needed proof that I was indeed part of the waterclan.

I flinched when someone suddenly knocked on my door. "Yes?"

The door opened a little, but it wasn't dad or Carole – it was Eleanor. Surprised, I put down the mug.

"Hey…", she said hesitantly, entered and closed the door behind her. She wore grey pants to a flowery tanktop. Insecurely, she looked to the back. "Your dad let me in."

"Len…"

"Yes?", she said hastily.

The corners of my mouth went upwards. "I'm still mad at you, but you are always welcome here."

"Oh, thank god." She took a seat next to me on my fluffy carpet that covered the wooden floor.

"Did you really think I unfriended you?"

"Maybe…?" She didn't look at me and played with a strand of her dark hair.

I grabbed her hand so that she stopped it, like I did for years after Eleanor had begged me to help her get rid of her bad habit. I squeezed her hand softly. "You are my best friend, even when I feel like pushing you off a cliff. But that doesn't change anything. Besides, I don't want to kill the future bride. I still want to be at yours and Matt's wedding."

"Only be there?" Eleanor laughed shortly "You will be my best man."

"Please no."

"Oh, yes. You will wear that ugly suit and help me plan everything. Every little detail."

I grimaced. "I will reconsider our friendship."

She shook her head with a smirk. "Too late." Then, she looked around and took the map she scrutinized irritatedly. "Where did you get that from?"

"Those things belonged to my mum." I pointed at the rest. The clothes had been folded and were on my bed. "Dad came to me yesterday with that box and I'm looking at everything now. Have you ever heard of the archive in Edinburgh?"

"I did. But how do you find out about it?" Eleanor looked at me as if I had asked her whether the sky was blue. "Every clan has an archive underneath of Greyfriars Kirk in Edinburgh."

This time, it was me who stared at her. My heart raced and my stomach turned excitedly. "Are you serious? You know where it is? Have you ever been there?"

"I know where the archive of the Jones is and the one of the Smythes because their monuments are not that far away from each other. Those are the entries to the mausoleum and to the archive."

My thoughts were racing. Searching the entire city would take an eternity – but a cemetery? How long could it take? Without thinking, I started packing mum's things and putting them back into the box. How long was it until Edinburgh? Five hours? Six? What's the time now? Could I still make it today if I drove off now?

"What are you doing?", Eleanor asked me confusedly.

"What does it look like?" I jumped up "I'm driving to Edinburgh."

"What? Now?" She pulled me back to the floor again. "You can't just show up there. The problem is that you cannot just enter the archive. You need to identify with the monument of your clan with your magic and your blood. But even if I came with you, it would be hard to come that far."

"Why? Now I know where to start searching. I just need to drive there, find the right tombstone for the entry and…"

"There are guards", she cut me off "The cemetery is public, everyone, from the clanmember to the tourist, may enter, but the archives are guarded by the stormwarriors."

I stared at her. Blinked. And continued staring. "What in the world are stormwarriors?"

"The Jones – the airclan – founded them at the beginning. Hence the name", she said with a hint of pride in her voice "In the meantime, every clan has a group of trained hunters that hunt down elementals and protect the citizens from the attacks of those creatures and important places like the archive: The stormwarriors.

They normally only go on patrols in their territories, but some are also in Edinburgh. They want to make sure that the city stays neutral land and that no trespassers come close to the archives."

And just like that, my simple plan got more complicated.

"How do you even know all that?"

"Two of my cousins are stormwarriors." She shrugged as if it was nothing.

Sighing, I rubbed my face. "And if I just explain to them that I belong to the waterclan and beg them nicely to let me go to our archive?"

Eleanor lifted her finger. "Firstly: You cannot beg them nicely."

I rolled my eyes even though she was right. Niceness was not my forte, unfortunately. I usually try to get my way otherwise.

"Secondly", she went on "The entry to the archive is not the problem, you can enter with the help of your blood or your powers. But first, you need to prove you are part of the waterclan. But officially, there is no one left with water magic, and yours is still out of control, so they will…"

"…think I'm an elemental", I concluded and cursed quietly. I wouldn't think about the possibility to become one for real. No way. Not before I had more facts and proofs that mum was a Campbell. "It can't be that hard to get into that stupid archive!"

"Maybe there is one way…"

I lifted my head in surprise. "Which is?"

"Not which, rather who. And when."

I frowned at her. "You are talking nonsense - but Matt isn't even close."

As if on cue, she started blushing a little. "Stop it, white boy, or I won't help you."

"I would if you told me what your plan is."

But Eleanor wasn't listening anymore. She had already jumped up and was already at the door before she turned to me one last time. "Pack some spare clothes. We will make a little roadtrip. In one hour at the school parking."

I opened my mouth to answer – and closed it again because she was already gone. What the hell was she up to? Any why couldn't I shake the feeling I wouldn't like it?

I parked my car at the school's parking and cut off the engine. The sun was still shining this Saturday afternoon, but dark clouds could already be seen on the otherwise blue sky. I got out and looked around. My car was the only vehicle far and wide, apart from those two rusty bikes at the bikestation.

Frowning, I checked the time on my phone. It's been exactly one hour since Eleanor had left. Someone else drove into the parking as well, dark hair was fluttering in the wind. Eleanor got off her bike and locked it to the deserted bike station before she came jogging to me with her backpack.

"You're already here", she greeted me, surprised. That woman knew me too well.

I scoffed quietly. "If I had known that you assumed how late I would be, I would have bought a latte on the way."

"You still have time for that", she answered with a glance to her watch.

"What are we still waiting for?"

Something told me we were waiting for a person. So many people came to my mind Eleanor could have recruited for our little trip, but I liked none of them. Not her parents, not her mean cousin I had never met before, not dad, and don't get me started on Blaine and Sebastian. Before I could think of other people I could blacklist or before I could go buy a latte, I heard another engine and saw a black car that drove into the parking. My heart suddenly did somersaults.

"Oh no. Please tell me you didn't…"

But she had.

The car stopped next to mine and none other than Blaine Anderson got out of it. "Ready?" He looked from me to Eleanor and back to me, as if we would meet for a funny roadtrip among best friends.

For two seconds, I could only stare. Today, he wore dark pants to a grey roll neck sweater, his hair was only slightly gelled. For some reason, his presence did something to me. But what irritated me the most was his indifferent face expression.

"What are you doing here?", I finally pressed.

"Eleanor called me."

Without warning me? I turned to my best friend who did everything in her power to look innocent while I strangled her in my head. That little -

I looked back to Blaine. "I still don't want your help."

Not from the bloke that pretended we didn't know each other, as if we didn't spend countless nights hunting together, as if we never fought for our lives, back-to-back.

He was unimpressed. "No, but you still get it. And you will need it desperately because you can't just enter the archive."

I hate it whenever he was right, and I wasn't. I hated it, no matter whether it was about hidden archives, elementals, or a problem he could solve faster on the whiteboard during AP calculus. But that only happened once so far, honest! I was still seething when I thought about it especially because I normally was among the best of my class.

I stuck out my chin stubbornly. "And do you know another way into the archive?"

"No. But Eleanor and I could distract the stormwarriors while you sneak in."

Stunned, I looked back and forth between him and her. Seriously? That's why she told him about it? So that he could help with the distraction?

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And what do you get in return?"

He sighed. "Maybe, I like playing the saviour. Did that ever occur to you?"

"Everyone wants something. You are no exception, Sir Blaine."

The corners of his mouth twitched when I called him by his nickname. It was so minimal I almost wouldn't have seen it because he looked distant and cold again now.

"Get in." He pointed at his car.

I crossed my arms. "Who says we will take your car?"

"No one", he answered tightly. "But the 120 HP are a good argument to do it."

I pressed my lips together because – dammit! – Blaine was right. My old car may be good, but not the best option for a long drive to Edinburgh and back. His pickup car looked newer and must be a lot faster too.

"We will be back faster", Eleanor commented, trying to be helpful.

I threw her a killing glance. We would still talk about her initiative. Without another word, I took the bag from my car, went to Blaine's car, and slumped down on the backseat. Eleanor and Blaine talked a little before they got in as well and drove off.

I retrieved my phone and scowled at the display. This was going to be the longest roadtrip of my life.