Unraveling Legacy

by Princess Keda

The night before Raiyn's eighth birthday, he has an ominous dream about the future. No one is answering his questions about the past, and the present is becoming more difficult to navigate than ever. What did he see and why? Join us for one final installment of the Oniverse, where we catch up with all the characters we've met and grown to love over the course of this crazy story!

4. Chapter 4

10

Amber shook her head as she studied her students. "Damien, stop looking at your feet!" she called, and the boy in question reddened as he looked back up at his partner. "Clara, stop trying to lead—you're forcing Spencer into the steps again," the oni chastised, and the blonde girl she was addressing flushed. The music finally came to an end, and Amber reached out to pause the music. "All right, gather over here for final notes."

The children obeyed quickly. There were only six of them, and Amber couldn't help but wonder how her ballroom teachers had handled classes with so many more. It felt like it was all she could do to keep these six in rhythm. At least this was just a community class—the parents who enrolled their kids here mainly just wanted to give their children a fun outlet, so the expectations for the children's dancing were nowhere near as strict as they would have been at Marty Openheimer's School for Performing Arts.

"You all did pretty well today, but I can tell that some of you haven't been practicing the steps at home like I asked," Amber offered, shooting a look in Damien's direction. He reddened further but didn't deny the accusation. "We only have a few classes left together," she continued. "Please make sure you continue practicing at home so that you can shine during your recital. You've all worked hard and I want that to show to your loved ones who come to watch."

"Miss Amber?" Clara asked, her hand shooting up. She didn't wait for Amber to acknowledge her before plowing on. "My mom wants to know if you'll be teaching more ballroom classes in the summertime?"

"No, I won't have time," Amber admitted, and she was surprised by the feelings of disappointment that wafted off of the children. "As it is, I was only filling in for Mrs. Krump while she gets her knee surgery done," she explained. "By the time her summertime classes start, she'll be back to take over."

"Mrs. Krump smells like old cheese," Spencer complained. "We like you much better."

Amber blinked in surprise. "Well…um…" She tried to think of an appropriate way to respond, but then Clara was calling out again.

"Hey, there's a weird guy over there!" she squawked.

Amber turned to the doorway where Clara was pointing, catching sight of a familiar figure leaning up against the doorframe. M smiled in greeting, and Amber couldn't quite keep the smile off her face when she caught sight of him.

"He's not a weird guy," Amber corrected. "He's here for me. Now, your parents should be here any minute, so make sure you come get this flyer about the recital before you go."

Within ten minutes, the children had all been collected and the small room that Mrs. Krump rented was empty. Amber finished putting the various electronic components back into the cupboard, and M came over.

"Look at you, a natural teacher," he teased.

"I'm glad it looks that way," Amber replied, closing the cupboard. "I've never tried teaching dance before, and it's harder than I thought it would be." She moved over to where M was, frowning as she took in his outfit. "Did you wear that suit home from Metallonia?" she asked, studying the two-piece. She was more than used to seeing M in formal clothing, given their background in ballroom. Still, it was definitely fancier than he usually dressed for their hang outs.

M looked down at the suit. "Does it look like I did?" he asked, a flash of nervousness leaking off of him as he straightened out a few wrinkles.

"No, I just wondered because you seem a little overdressed to go get burgers is all," Amber said.

"Yeah, I guess," he admitted. "I bought it while I was in Metallonia…and…I guess I wanted to know what you thought."

He looked shy, and Amber resisted the urge to tease him as she studied his suit more seriously. "It's a nice fit," she offered. "You've always looked good in blue, and it makes you look very professional." Understanding dawned. "Did you buy it to wear to your launch party?"

"Something like that," he agreed with a shrug, but then he was moving closer to kiss her hello. "I missed you, Oni-girl," he offered after pulling away.

Amber smiled, but she couldn't help but feel like something was a little off with him. He looked the same as when he had left for Metallonia a few months ago, but the feelings she could sense coming off of him felt strange. He seemed nervous, and it felt like he was avoiding meeting her eye.

"I missed you too," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "It honestly started to feel like you'd be gone forever. You were supposed to be back two weeks ago."

He winced, forcing out an awkward laugh. "Yeah, sorry about that. I had something come up in the metal supply chain that I was trying to figure out."

"Did you get it all worked out?" Amber asked, trying to resist probing further into his feelings.

"I think so. I have a meeting with Julien and Agatha this week to talk about it, but that's enough talking shop. I'm sure you're sick of hearing about metal grades and shipping lines and all that by now." He offered a smile. "How have you been? School still going okay?"

"It's been a lot lately, but I'm surviving," she admitted. "Let me go grab my jacket and we can go." She paused to study his outfit one last time. "Are you really wearing that to the burger joint?"

"Well…" M rubbed the back of his neck. "It's been so long since we've seen each other, I thought we could go to somewhere a little fancier than a burger joint."

Amber looked pointedly down at her sweatpants. "How fancy?" she demanded. "Why not shoot me a text and let me know? I would have dressed a little nicer."

"You look beautiful," M countered. Amber blushed, but she shot him an unamused look.

"My apartment isn't too far. No way am I going to a nice place with you looking like that and me looking like this."

"Alright," M agreed awkwardly. "I'm sorry for the sudden change of plans. I just thought it would be nice."

"It is nice," Amber said. "But if you had time to get that dressed up, then you had time to shoot me a text." She grabbed his hand, and together they left the dance studio. His car was parked out front and soon they were driving back toward Ninjago University's campus to get to Amber's apartment.

As they drove, M continued to hold her hand, but he didn't say anything else. Over the past few years, Amber tried wait for M to bring up his feelings rather than demand answers about what she could sense, but the longer they drove in silence, the longer it started to feel like something was definitely wrong.

"Are you okay?" Amber finally asked as M parked in front of her apartment complex.

"I'm fine," M answered, coming out of his stupor to shoot her a smile. "Just kinda tired from the ride back from Metallonia."

"If you want to take it easy tonight, we can," Amber offered. "I could make something for us to eat, and you could relax—"

"No!" M cut in, and Amber blinked. He seemed to realize how forceful the word had come out, and he cleared his throat. "Sorry, but I've been looking forward to this. We don't have to change the plans just because I'm a little tired." He got out of the car to come open her door, and Amber studied him suspiciously.

"Okay…" Amber agreed reluctantly. "You just seem a little jumpy. Are you sure everything went fine in Metallonia?"

"Yeah, it's all good," he promised.

"Then I guess give me ten minutes, and I'll go get ready really quick," the oni conceded as she got out of the car. "How fancy do I need to be? Which restaurant are we going to?"

"Oh, I thought we could try out Renaldo's, if that sounds okay," M offered nonchalantly. Amber stopped dead, shooting him another look.

"Renaldo's? Like…one of the fanciest restaurants in town?" she asked in disbelief. "M, we're not going to be able to walk in! It's a Saturday night!"

"It'll be fine," M insisted, though she caught him checking his watch. "You have plenty of time, so don't rush."

"Do you have a reservation?" she realized. "Why is this the first time I've heard about any of this?"

"I just thought it might be a nice surprise," M said, and Amber frowned.

"You're acting weird," she accused, but she didn't wait for him to explain himself. She left him standing by his car, her heart pounding as she headed up the stairs to her apartment. During her first year of university, she had stayed with her Grandfather and took the bus to campus every day, but now that her schedule was so packed, she found it easier to live on campus, closer to all her classes.

She changed quickly, her mind pulling apart M's behavior in spite of herself. By now, he should know that she didn't expect fancy things like this…so why was he being so insistent? Maybe it had nothing to do with her. After all, he had spent all year rubbing shoulders with rich, successful people, talking up his business. Was this his way of trying to prove to the world that he could be a successful business owner? Was this how M was going to be now—dressing in suits every day, and insisting on only eating at the fanciest places?

You're overthinking this, she thought to herself as she brushed through her hair. It's just that this was the longest you've been apart in a while, so you're afraid that he's changed somehow in that time, but surely he's the same old M as always.

She glanced at the makeup stashed in one corner of her counter. It was a gift from May, but Amber rarely wore it outside of performances. However, as she thought about how dressed up M was, she couldn't help but apply a little. Afterward, she backed up to take in as much of her reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror as she could. The flowy, grey dress she was wearing wasn't new—M had seen her wear it a dozen times, and she found herself wishing she could have gone shopping for something new.

It's not like I knew we were going on a date this formal ahead of time! She reminded herself as she studied her hair. It was getting long. If she had more time, she would have tried to do something more than just brush it, but she supposed it didn't look too bad.

"Well, it's better than I looked before," she decided as she grabbed a pair of pumps before heading to the door. M was leaning up against his car as she came back down the stairs, and his expression brightened when he caught sight of her.

"You look great," he offered, but then his smile faded as he noticed her shudder in the chilly, spring breeze. "Are you going to be warm enough in that, though? Do you want to go grab a jacket or something?"

Amber glanced back toward her apartment, cursing as she realized she had left her jacket behind. "I'm fine," she said. "I mean, Renaldo's only has inside seating anyway, right?"

"Well, yeah," M agreed, though he was shifting from foot to foot. "But if we go somewhere after, it might be cold."

Amber frowned. "Somewhere like where?" She moved to get back in the car. "Let's just go to dinner, and if we want to hang out after, we can just come back here."

M didn't answer, but he didn't insist on her going to grab her jacket. This time as they drove, M didn't reach out to take her hand. His expression seemed distant as both hands gripped the steering wheel, the nervous feelings she had noticed earlier getting worse.

Something has to be up, Amber thought. Why does it feel like there's something he's afraid to say to me?

"What time did you get back today?" Amber asked, trying to figure out how to get him to talk about whatever was bothering him.

"Hmm?" M asked, glancing over at her. "What did you say?"

"When did you get back from Metallonia?"

"Oh, this afternoon. My father made him stop by the school again to check in with him, and then I got ready and came to see you."

"How's your father doing?" Amber asked. If they got into another fight, that could explain this awkward mood, she thought.

"He's doing pretty well, from what I could see," M offered. "Speaking of, he said his offer to hire you on as a teacher after you graduate still stands."

"Oh, yeah," Amber said. "I was still surprised the first time he brought that up. I thought he still might hate me, deep down."

M glanced over at her, his brow furrowing. "He doesn't hate you," he corrected. "I promise. If anything…I'm pretty sure he's starting to feel like you're too good for me."

"Really? Does that mean you got into a fight with him today?" Amber pressed.

M laughed. "No, actually. It was a surprisingly good visit, all things considered," he offered cheerfully. "But it was a shorter visit—after being gone so long, I would rather spend my time with you than him, you know?"

"I'm glad it was okay," Amber offered, frowning in thought.

"If you don't want to teach at Marty Openheimer's, I can tell him to quit bringing it up," M offered. "I mean, we spent enough of our lives trapped in that building, right?"

"Well, I don't really have anything against teaching there. It's more that I'm not sure that teaching is what I want to do after graduation," Amber explained. "That's what I get for doing two degrees that have nothing to do with each other—the first decision I have to make is whether I want to pursue a career in dancing or international relations."

"Still haven't decided, then?" M realized, glancing over at her. "That's okay, though. You have plenty of time."

"Not really," Amber argued. "If I don't fail any classes, then I'll graduate in less than two years, and I should be trying to get internships and things before that." She sighed. "It's just hard, thinking about the future sometimes, huh?"

M didn't answer, and as Amber turned to look at him, she realized the sense of nervousness had taken on a touch of dread. Oh yeah…I forgot the future is M's least favorite subject, she thought, and she tried to think of something else they could talk about. M spoke up before she could, though.

"So, you don't think you want to go into teaching? You seemed like a natural back in that class with those kids—they even said you smelled better than old cheese. What more could you want?"

Amber smiled a little. "Ha, ha," she said sarcastically. "I don't mind teaching, but I'm not sure if I like it as much as I like dancing myself. I'm only doing that job because the teacher needed surgery. She's a friend of one of my dance instructors at the university, so that's how I ever even got involved."

"Oh yeah, I remember you telling me about that now," M remembered. "Still, your instructor must trust you a lot, to refer you to their friend as a substitute."

"I guess," Amber agreed. They had finally reached the restaurant, but the parking lot was busy. It took them a while to get parked, and as M and Amber headed for the entrance, it was clear that there was a long wait. They pushed their way through the crowd, though as people saw them coming, they drifted out of their way subconsciously. Amber had grown more than used to people staring at her and her horns, but for some reason, her self-consciousness always made a comeback when she was in a fancy place like this.

"I have a reservation for two under Openheimer," M offered to the hostess, and after a few minutes, the woman gestured for them to follow her to their table. Amber glanced around as they took their seats. Each table had a single rose and a lit candle, and she picked up the menu cautiously.

"It's not going to bite you," M teased, and she rolled her eyes.

"This is reminding me of our tour we went on a few years ago," she pointed out as she opened her menu. "I would have thought you had enough fancy food on that trip to last you a lifetime."

"If you really have your heart set on a burger, I think they have one on their menu," M answered. Amber found the burger in question and raised her eyebrows.

"Geez—I could get a new pair of dance shoes for that price!" she accused. M squinted his eyes at his own menu.

"A used pair of dance shoes, maybe," he argued. "Nothing quality comes that cheap."

"Still—that's the most expensive burger I've ever seen," Amber argued, and M chuckled.

"Then maybe you should order it and see if it's worth the price," he teased. The feelings of nervousness that had been coming off of him were fading, which made it easier for Amber to relax as well. Soon, they were talking and laughing like normal, and Amber wondered if she had imagined the off feeling from before.

"I still can't believe you ran into Miso at a grocery store of all places while you were in Metallonia," Amber laughed as they finished off dessert.

"Me either," M agreed. "Here I am just trying to pick up a few things and suddenly the whole store starts shaking. I thought it was an earthquake until I heard him yell MY OLD FRIEND MINTY! From behind."

Amber snorted. "He still calls you Minty?"

"I swear he does it on purpose," M scowled, but then it relaxed into a smile. "It was actually good we met up though. He was able to point me in the direction of a really good jeweler."

"Why did you need a jeweler?" Amber asked curiously.

M's expression froze, and Amber blinked at the sudden flash of alarm that blared off of him. He recovered quickly, forcing a quick laugh as his gaze dropped to the cheesecake he was finishing. "Oh, just something to do with work," he offered vaguely. "Anyway, Miso said to tell you hi."

"That's nice of him," Amber answered, but her own unease was starting to build again. The nervous feeling from before was coming off of M in full force again, and he kept clearing his throat and looking away from her.

"Are you done?" he asked after a moment, and Amber took a final bite of her dessert.

"Yeah," she agreed. "You feeling okay?"

"All good!" he insisted, scanning the room. "Just trying to remember the right way to beckon the waiter for a check at a fancy place like this, is all."

Something definitely happened on his trip, Amber realized, staring at him as she watched him get the waiter's attention and pay the bill. But what could it be? Maybe things are falling apart for his business, and he's scared of telling me? But he'd have to at some point— if the launch party isn't happening anymore, it would be easy to see something's wrong.

Every time M looked up at her, Amber offered a smile, but her fists were balled up in her lap as worry continued spinning around in her head.

It's got to be something to do with the company, but if he was really having troubles, I feel like he would have told me about it. What else could it be? Something that he's afraid to tell me? Or maybe…something he's not ALLOWED to tell me? Panic started growing in Amber's mind as M led her outside back to his car. It was dark now, and the wind was cold.

"Geez, is it supposed to start raining tonight?" M muttered, holding a hand out as he squinted up at the sky. "I was hoping there would be lots of stars out."

Amber didn't really hear him, still lost in her own thoughts. Maybe…he's in some kind of trouble? Maybe some businessman is threatening him…or maybe it's worse than a businessman. Her heart began pounding. I mean, the last time anyone saw Matilda was in Metallonia…

"Amber?" M said, and she glanced up to see M studying her with concern. "You okay?"

Amber blinked, and she realized she had come to a stop a few feet from the restaurant's entrance. Her body was trembling as she hugged herself, and M pulled off his suitcoat to put it around her shoulders.

"Oh…um. I'm fine," she tried, but she had to admit the suitcoat was warm.

"You've seemed a little distant tonight," M pointed out as he once again began leading her to the car. Amber turned to him in shock.

"I've been distant?" she blurted. "You're the one who's feelings have been all over the place!"

M froze, glancing back at her. Amber hugged his suitcoat around herself as she continued bitterly.

"I really tried to ignore it and not pester you about it…but something's been bothering you, and it's starting to worry me, M. What really happened in Metallonia? What aren't you telling me?"

She wondered if he would get angry, but instead, he just sighed. "I was trying to hide my nerves…but I guess I should have known it wouldn't work against you," he muttered.

"So, there is something!" she pressed. "Whatever it is, you can tell me about it."

M reddened. "Well, I plan on telling you about it," he insisted, still not meeting her eye. "But, not here, okay?" He glanced behind her, and Amber turned to see that the people waiting in line for the restaurant were all staring at them. M took her hand, but he didn't say anything as he led her to his car and opened the door for her.

"What happened?" Amber couldn't help asking after they were both in the car. "Is it to do with your company?"

"No, it really doesn't have anything to do with the company," M insisted. He didn't seem annoyed, exactly, but his brow was furrowed as he drove. "Honestly, I was trying to avoid talking about the company tonight."

"Because something's wrong with it?" Amber pressed.

M sighed. "No. Everything's fine, but what I want to talk about is more important."

Amber's heart pounded. She wasn't really paying attention to where they were going, trying to decide whether she dared ask the question plaguing her mind. As M finally pulled the car to one last stop, she blurted out.

"Is it about your mother?"

M turned to look at her in surprise. "My mother?"

"Did she try and get back in contact with you while you were in Metallonia?" Amber pressed. "Is she threatening you? Or…maybe someone else is, and—"

"Where did that come from?" M demanded, his frown deepening. "Amber, no one's threatening me. Are people threatening you?"

"Of course not!" she snapped. "But the fact that you've been trying to hide something from me made me think something must have happened!"

They stared at each other for a moment, and M finally turned away, chuckling ruefully. "Geez, I guess this is what I get for trying to be romantic. Was I really so suspicious that you thought the world was ending or something?"

Amber reddened. "But—"

"I promise nothing bad is happening, Amber," he said. He got out of the car and came to open her door again, offering his hand with a smile. "Come on."

She accepted his hand, and as she got out of the car, she realized where they were. "Marty Openheimer's?" she asked. "Do we need to talk to your dad about something?"

"We aren't here for my dad…or the school," M admitted. "We're here for the bench."

"What bench?" Amber asked as M led her through the grassy area. As she caught sight of the tree in the distance with a bench beneath it, she pointed. "That one?"

"Yeah," he agreed with a laugh. "Honestly, I kept trying to think of somewhere better, but this is the place that kept coming to mind. Guess at the end of the day, I'm not some great romantic…just a guy who sticks to his comfort zone."

They reached the bench, and M plopped down on one side. Amber studied him for a moment longer before sitting next to him. Amber looked across the field, memories from their school days coming back to her.

"I guess we did used to sit here a lot," she mused.

"I feel like we always had our 'important' talks here while we were in school," M agreed. "Probably why it felt like the right place to have this conversation."

There was a seriousness to him now, and Amber couldn't help but worry. He kept insisting that what he wanted to talk about wasn't anything bad, but the feelings coming off of him made that hard to believe.

"So…if it's not about Metallonia, and it's not about your company…what is this about?" Amber prompted.

M glanced over at her. "It's about us. The thing is…I'm not really happy with where we're at anymore."

Dread filled Amber immediately, and M must have seen it wash over her face because he threw his hands up in apology.

"Wait…not like that!" he insisted. "I didn't mean for that to come out like that!"

"Then what do you mean?" Amber demanded.

"I mean…I want to have a talk about the next step." M tugged at the tie he was wearing, loosening it as he swallowed hard. "About…um…marriage."

Amber just stared, and M avoided her eye as he stared down at his hands. After the silence dragged on for another minute, he risked another look, the nervousness from before pouring off of him again.

"You want to talk about getting married?" Amber repeated numbly, not even sure how to feel.

Panic flashed across his face. "Do you not want to?"

"Of course I want to!" Amber snapped, causing them both to flush. "This just feels like it came out of nowhere. Usually, you avoid talking about marriage like the plague, so it was the last thing I expected you to say!"

He rubbed his neck. "Geez…was it really easier to think something terrible was happening than to think I'd be proposing?"

"You'd be what?" Amber asked, her heart starting to pound all over again.

"Is it not obvious by now?" M asked. Amber stared at him, thinking about everything that had happened that night. M showing up in a suit, the fancy restaurant, his scattered feelings.

"But…you're skipping right to the proposal? You don't you want to talk about it first?" Amber blurted.

"I mean, we already have talked about it before," M said, fiddling with his tie. "We already agreed it would be the next step, right?"

"Yeah, but it just never seemed like something you were ready for, and I didn't want to rush you," Amber said. A sudden thought hit, and her eyebrows shot up. "Did Dani put you up to this?"

M looked back at her with a scowl. "No. The Piano has nothing to do with this! I may not have seemed like I wanted to think about it, but I have been. These last few months, when I was on my own…" his expression clouded. "I've been thinking about it a lot."

Now that the shock was starting to wear off, Amber began feeling a thrill of excitement. "Are you sure you're ready?"

"Yeah." He glanced over at her suspiciously. "But the way you're talking, it sounds like you've been ready a while. Have you just been waiting for me this whole time?" Amber couldn't help but laugh, and after a moment, M's expression softened. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing, really," Amber admitted. "I'm just happy. With everything going on right now, I thought for sure it would take you a few more years to get to this point."

"Years?" he repeated in shock. "Amber…we've been together for years already!"

"I know, but I also know marriage isn't something you wanted to rush into," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that I'd take a decade to decide," he muttered. "While I was in Metallonia, I realized that there isn't any point in waiting any longer. I already know I'm in love with you…I know you're the one I'm going to marry, and spend the rest of my life with. So, it doesn't make sense for me to keep putting it off just because I'm afraid."

Amber went to answer, but a wave of emotion hit and made it hard to talk. Her eyes pricked with sudden tears, and she stared down at her hands. Whose emotions are all over the place now? She chided herself, but then M was reaching out to claim one of her hands.

"I'm sorry it took me forever," he mumbled. "You could have brought it up sooner, if you were sick of waiting for me."

"I didn't mind waiting," Amber assured, squeezing his hand. "Like you said…I already knew you would be the one I married someday, and I understood why you wanted to get certain things secured first, like your company, or my schooling. That's why this happening right now is surprising. I still haven't graduated, and your company isn't off the ground yet."

"Would you rather we wait?" M asked.

"No…but I want to make sure you aren't just doing this because you feel like you have to," Amber admitted. As much as she wanted to let her excitement run away with her, she didn't feel like she could afford to let her emotions go on a rampage just yet.

"Well, I do feel like I have to do it, but not like you're the one who's making me feel that way." He frowned. "Does that make sense?"

"I'm not sure," Amber admitted.

M sighed, looking up at the leaves rustling in the wind above them. "I realized that if I kept waiting for some 'perfect time', then I could be waiting forever, and worse…making you wait forever. Yeah, you're still in school, and there's still a lot of work to be done on the company, not to mention a million other things we'd have to figure out. But that's okay…because I know that we can figure all that out together, and getting married isn't going to somehow destroy everything we've already built in the last few years."

"I agree," Amber murmured, feeling dazed. "So…if you're really ready…what's the next step? Picking a day? Buying a ring?"

"Well…I actually might have already done the ring part," he admitted with a wince. Amber looked at him in surprise, and he reached into the pocket of the suitcoat that she was still wearing. When she saw him pull out the ring box, her eyes filled with tears again. She wanted to say something, but the words got stuck as M cleared his throat and continued. "To be honest, this is the reason I'm two weeks late getting back from Metallonia. The jeweler I went to custom makes everything, and it took a bit longer than I thought it would to finish it."

"M…" Amber gasped as he moved to get down on one knee in front of her on the bench.

"I guess this is the way I'm supposed to do it, right?" he joked, but she could feel how nervous he actually was as he opened the ring box. "What do you say, Oni-girl?"

With the moon hidden by clouds, the ring was hard to see in the dim lighting under the tree. However, purple aura lit up around Amber's hands as she reached out to cradle the ring box, and she wondered distantly if the wind causing the branches above her to creak and groan was actually from her.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, studying the ring in the light of her aura. The ring was silver, topped with a delicate poppy flower that had a small diamond nestled in its heart.

"So…will you marry me?" M pressed, and she looked up to see him staring at her. Amber felt her tears escaping when she caught sight of the ones in M's eyes.

"Of course I will," she breathed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him, finally allowing the feelings inside to explode out of her.

11

Shirka checked her reflection one last time, grimacing at her hair. It was the third time she had redone it, but the braid was giving her more grief than usual.

"How does Rook make this hairstyle look so easy?" she mumbled, trying in vain to pin down the pieces that were sticking out. "Probably helps that her hair isn't curly, and a lot longer than mine."

It had been a few days since they had gone to the Central Fortress, but instead of fading, the anxiety Shirka had felt that day only seemed to be getting worse. She moved to strap on her weapons and armor, ready to head out to the training grounds. She hadn't seen much of Tyme since they'd returned, and Gyro insisted he was too busy with his new duties to practice with her outside their usual guard training. Syra and Reg spent most of their free time practicing long-range attacks like knife-throwing. It had always been one of Syra's strong points, but Shirka had a feeling that Reg's sudden interest in the art was because he considered it a better option than training with a crossbow.

"Guess I'll see if I can rope someone else into helping me practice," she murmured. However, as she headed through the barracks to get to the training grounds, she was shocked to see Rook studying their collection of training swords. "Rook!" she stammered, and the woman looked over at her in surprise.

"Oh, hey, Shirka," the woman offered with a smile.

"Um…do you have a minute?" Shirka asked, and Rook raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want to talk about whatever happened at the Central Fortress?" she guessed, and Shirka reddened.

"Kind of," she said. "Jaqah…might not have been very impressed with us during our tour. I didn't want her to think we weren't capable, so I sort of tried to show off while we were there." She winced in memory. "She didn't react the way I had hoped, though. We're still allowed to initiate and everything, but it feels like she's going to go harder on us now than she would have before."

"Mmmm," Rook replied, studying the younger woman. "I wondered if something happened that you didn't mention. You've all seemed extra nervous since we got back."

"Would you be willing to give me extra one-on-one trainings?" Shirka blurted. Rook looked surprised, and Shirka rushed to continue. "It's just…I don't want to go into initiation without being fully prepared, so I'm doing all I can in the meantime, and I would really appreciate if you could make time to train me one-on-one."

"I see. I can appreciate your desire to improve…but I'm afraid I don't have the time," Rook admitted, and Shirka's heart dropped. "It's not that I don't think you deserve to have one-on-one training, though," Rook continued quickly. "In fact, if you really want to be prepared for initiation, you should ask if Mahlyn would be willing to train you more."

Shirka's expression clouded. "Mahlyn? But…" she trailed off, and Rook smirked.

"You realize that Mahlyn would know far more about the initiation than I do, right? After all, she had to clear it herself, and was talented enough to reach the top ranks of the Central Fortress Guard—that's the only reason the Rulers would have sent her with the entourage that were tasked with protecting the Heir of the realm."

"I know," Shirka mumbled. "And yeah, she's talented, but I feel like when I've seen the two of you spar, you tend to do better than her."

Rook looked surprised. "When we spar? I don't know that either of us has ever sparred seriously with each other—the only times I can remember sparring were times when we were specifically showing various techniques." She frowned thoughtfully. "I'm actually not sure whether or not I would win against Mahlyn if we fought seriously. I might be able to pull it off, but only if I used my aural powers to boost my strength and take advantage of the fact that she couldn't retaliate against them."

"I think you could beat her easily!" Shirka insisted, and Rook chuckled.

"Well, it's nice to know you have such faith in me," she offered. "But my fighting techniques aren't necessarily 'by the book.' I'm an assassin, used to ending fights as quickly as possible. I'm not as good at lengthy sparring matches, which require a lot more endurance. In fact, against people who also have oni powers, like Theodynn and Tolan, I'm rarely able to win." She folded her arms, studying Shirka closely. "I'm not saying that Mahlyn would have the time to train you right now either, but I think that she would be able to prepare you for a Central Fortress initiation much better than I ever could, so it would definitely be worth it for you to at least ask."

"I understand," Shirka mumbled, looking at the ground. Rook's argument made sense, but still, Shirka had never exactly been Mahlyn's biggest fan. Her techniques seemed robotic at times, her trainings repetitive, and her personality hard to read. Not to mention, the Southern Fortress Captain of the Guard didn't have the flair that Rook did…the kind of flair Shirka wanted to emulate more than anything.

"Shirka," Rook said, causing the young woman to look up. "You know…I've always thought you'd make a good leader."

Shirka flushed. "Wha…um…thanks."

Rook picked up one of the training swords, rubbing a large nick in its blade. "I remember back when I was first training all of you. I always assumed that Gyro was the leader of your little group, since the rest of you tended to follow him around like lost sniffer pups. Still, the more I got to know the five of you, the more I realized that you're the one who actually holds the most sway in your group."

"What do you mean?" Shirka stammered.

"Gyro was definitely the strongest, but the more I watched, the more it seemed like you were able to influence Gyro far more than he could influence you."

"Huh," Shirka mumbled, breaking eye contact. "I appreciate the sentiment, but if that were true…then I'd have been able to convince him to come to the Central Fortress with us. That obviously didn't work."

Rook laughed. "Well, even the greatest leaders don't get to have everything play out the way they want," she pointed out. "There comes a time when everyone has to decide who they'll be, and who they'll follow." She shrugged. "Maybe you have no interest in taking on leadership roles within the guard force or beyond, but I suppose I can't help but think you'll be a better leader than I ever was."

"That's not true!" Shirka blurted. "Rook, you're amazing! You taught all of us, and—"

"Let me finish," Rook said, and Shirka trailed off in shame. The older oni smiled gently. "You stick to your convictions—that's something that took me a while to do. I made a lot of mistakes, making decisions that I thought would benefit me the most, but ultimately betrayed how I actually felt deep down. You don't have that problem—you're true to yourself and your beliefs, and often, that makes all the difference."

Shirka wasn't sure how to respond. Being complimented by Rook was one of the best feelings ever…but at the same time, a part of her felt guilty, wondering if she even deserved the praise. After all, if Rook knew all the details about what happened with Jaqah at the fortress, would she still think she would be a good leader?

"The biggest thing in your way right now is just a lack of experience," Rook offered. "You base decisions on the limited understanding you have now…but someday, you'll know more and be able to lead accordingly. That's why the best thing you could do is open yourself up to further points of view, and get as much experience as you can. Sometimes that means going outside of your comfort zone, but I think it will be worth it."

"R…right," Shirka agreed, her face still blazing. She cleared her throat, pulling herself together. "Then, would you happen to know where I could find Mahlyn right now?"

---

The last few days, M had felt like he was caught up in a haze of nerves and excitement, but as he stared across the table at Julien and Agatha's apologetic expressions, his system was shocked back to reality.

"You…what?" he asked as the sushi he had been about to eat dropped from his chopsticks.

"Ve didn't want to blindside you like zis," Agatha tried. She met his eye earnestly, while Julien stared down at the restaurant table. "And ve haven't made any final decisions or anyzing like zat…but…" she trailed off, and M lowered his chopsticks as his shock began fading to anger.

"Well, I'm feeling pretty blindsided," he said, trying to keep his temper at bay. "Our company launches in less than a week, and you're just now telling me that you're planning on going non-profit?"

"The timing was unintentional," Julien offered, finally glancing up. "But this should not be a total surprise. After all, when we were first discussing the company, we mentioned that we would prefer it be a non-profit."

"Yeah, but we crunched the numbers and there was no way to make it work," M reminded. "The cost of production is too high…we would have to have three times the number of sponsors that we have now to offset those costs." He took a long drink of ice-water, his mind spinning. He had finally stopped being so nervous about launching the company, and his business partners choose to spring this on him now? What would he do if they insisted on going through with this? It had taken him years to scrape together enough sponsors to get to the point where they could viably start the company…far longer than he had expected. They didn't have nearly enough support to do what they were proposing—surely, they had to realize that!

"Indeed," Agatha agreed. "Zat is vie ve agreed zat ve vould go ahead viz ze normal business model you proposed…but vile you vere in Metallonia, zere vas a development."

"What kind of development?" M snapped, and Julien sighed.

"There is an up-and-coming tech startup out in Eastern Ninjago that has been seeing a lot of success these last few years," Julien explained, straightening his glasses. "In fact, they've been doing so well that not only are they able to compete with Borg Industries, but some business insiders predict they'll eventually overtake them completely."

M furrowed his brow. "Are you talking about Specter Inc?"

"Yes!" Agatha beamed. "Zat is zem."

"I reached out to them a year ago, but they said they weren't in a place where they could invest in any other companies," M said. "What do they have to do with this?"

"They've seen a lot of success in the last year—they're in the top bracket of Ninjago businesses now," Julien explained. "They reached out to us a few weeks ago and expressed interest in sponsoring Armed with Power."

"Okay," M said carefully. "It's great to get new sponsors, but I don't understand why you suddenly want to turn our business into a non-profit because of that."

"About a monz ago, Colby did a promotion video for our company on his web channel," Agatha explained. "It vas Mia's idea—an attempt to get Colby and Dani comfortable with doing promotional content, vile also giving us some free marketing to help our launch go smoozer."

"The video was seen by many people, including the CEO at Specter Inc," Julien continued. "That is when they reached out to us and expressed interest in sponsoring our product…but the catch is that they're only willing to give that support if Armed with Power becomes a licensed non-profit organization."

"That's…well…we can't just do that because one company wants it," M stammered. "We have over a dozen sponsors who are all expecting to reap the benefits of sponsoring a typical business. So—"

"The amount that Specter Inc offered is more than most of the rest of our sponsors combined," Julien cut in, and M's words died in his throat. He stared in shock, and Julien sighed. "Not that I think we should cut out our original sponsors—obviously they will have to be contacted and informed of the change, and given the choice whether to continue their sponsorship or not."

M's fists clenched. "You're talking like you guys have already made this decision," he pointed out bitterly, and Julien and Agatha made eye contact.

"Like ve said, ve haven't actually agreed to anyzing yet," she promised. "But…ve vould like to take ze offer."

"From the beginning of this endeavor, this business was not about making money for us…it was about making a difference," Julien added. "It always bothered us that we were going to have to charge people such a high price for our prosthetics, because it would make it difficult for everyone who could benefit from my inventions to actually have access to them."

"Ve have a life-changing product, and now ve have a viable way for it to truly change people's lives," Agatha added gently.

"But…" M trailed off, still struggling to keep his temper down. He ran his hands through his hair, seething with frustration. "Look, why on earth didn't you contact me about this when it was happening? This feels like you did everything behind my back, and you're only just now informing me about the decision as a curtesy."

"I would hate for you to think that we do not value you as a partner," Julien started, but then he looked away. "But…I suppose it is fair for you to feel this way, since the two of us have already decided that we would like to accept their offer."

M slammed a fist on the table, causing the two of them to jump. "This seriously sucks," he hissed as he stared down at his half-finished sushi. The memory of his proposal to Amber a few nights earlier came to mind, but instead of making him feel giddy, like it usually did, M felt sick to his stomach. After determining that going non-profit would be basically impossible for their company, he hadn't done much more research into it. Because of that, he had no idea how this kind of change would affect the company. He had spent so much time winning the trust of their sponsors…and now, what would they think about them changing like this at the last minute? No doubt they'd feel as cheated as M currently did, or worse. Could they sue? Would they sue? And even if Specter's sponsorship made it so production costs went down, that didn't mean it would be enough to cover M's, Julien's, and Agatha's salaries. Heck, did Non-profit workers and founders even get salaries, or were they supposed to work for free or something?

"M?" Agatha said softly. Rather than answer, M pushed himself to his feet. He could feel his face starting to flush, and he knew tears would follow soon. This meet-up was humiliating enough as it was—like two adults gently letting a child know that he wasn't going to be getting what he wanted. If he started to cry in front of them, it would probably only give them more reason to believe that he should be left out of decisions.

Is that how they've seen me this whole time? He thought furiously. Like I'm just some silly kid who they've been keeping busy? Sending me all over the world, chasing after sponsors and metal orders and shipping routes, while they worked on their ACTUAL ideal business model together behind my back?

"We have already put off answering Specter Inc. for too long," Julien tried. "We wanted to be able to give them a definite answer as soon as possible—"

"You don't get to spring this on me and then expect me to make a spur of the moment decision about it," M replied numbly. "I'm going home."

"M—" Agatha started.

"You're not being fair, and you should both know it," he snapped, the tears filling his eyes at last as he glowered at them. He almost expected them to argue further, but both dropped their gazes instead. "I've got a ton of research to do…and a lot of phone calls to make," M growled. He pushed his hand to his forehead, already feeling a headache coming on. "And so help me, if you send an answer to Spectre anyway…"

His throat closed off, making it so he couldn't finish the thought, and Julien slowly nodded.

"We will not contact them yet," he promised. "But we cannot hold off forever. We will be sending a message on Saturday. I hope that will give you enough time for your research."

"Not hardly," M mumbled. "But I guess that's what I have to work with." Leaving the rest of his food on the table, he grabbed his briefcase and left the restaurant without saying anything else.

---

With all the preparation he had to do to prepare for his coronation, it had been a while since Theo had seen or even talked with his sister. He and Rook occasionally made the trip to Ninjago to visit, but it wasn't very often these days. However, Amber even more rarely visited home, considering how busy she was with work and all her classes. So when Theo walked into his quarters to see the xinta there waiting for him, he was taken aback to say the least.

"Ams!" he stammered. "What are you doing here?"

Amber smiled, but there was something shy about the look on her face as she pushed herself to her feet. "Sorry to drop in like this," she offered. "Is it a bad time?"

"It's never a bad time," Theo corrected, setting the various parchments he was carrying on a table. "Is everything okay? Wait…I didn't miss the big launch party, did I? I thought for sure it was next week—"

"No, you haven't missed it," Amber laughed as Theo came over to give her a hug. "I just wanted to tell you something, and it felt like it should be done in person."

Theo frowned, pulling back to study her closely. "What kind of news is it?" he asked, scanning her expression for a reaction. She was still smiling, so it seemed to be good news…but she wouldn't meet his eye. He blinked, "You aren't…like…pregnant or anything—"

"No!" Amber's gaze snapped up to meet his at last, her face turning bright red. "Of course not!"

"Sorry!" he replied, holding his hands up in surrender. "I mean, you and M have been together for a while now…"

"Ancients, Theo," Amber muttered.

"Well, what's your news, then?" Theo prompted, his own face red now.

"It's…um…" Amber cleared her throat, still seeming embarrassed. "M and I have been together for a long time, and a few nights ago…" she trailed off, and suddenly she was holding up her hand for Theo to see. For a moment, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking at, but then he realized she was wearing a ring.

"Oh, that's pretty," he offered. "Did he get you that?"

Amber shot him an incredulous look. "Yes, he did. You…realize what it is though, right?"

Theo frowned in confusion before the realization hit him. "Oh," he mumbled. "Oh!"

"You really can be so dense sometimes," Amber huffed.

"Wait, so this means the two of you are engaged? Like, officially?" Theo asked as he grabbed her hand to get a closer look at the ring. It wasn't a typical-looking wedding band, which was why it had thrown him off. Still, it was pretty and suited Amber well—he was surprised M had such good taste.

"Yeah," Amber agreed, her voice suddenly soft.

Theo grinned. "That's amazing!" he offered. "Geez, and I thought you said he was going to drag his feet for another century before this happened."

"I wasn't expecting it right now, to be honest," Amber admitted. "It's a busy time with his company, and I'm still in school…"

"Are you nervous, then?" Theo realized. "When's the wedding? What did Mom and Dad say when you told them?"

"We haven't really worked out the details," Amber admitted, fiddling with her engagement ring. "And I haven't told Mom and Dad yet."

Theo blinked. "Really? Wait…so you came to tell me first?"

"I was going to tell you all at the same time when you came to the launch party for M's company, but I only lasted about a day before I decided I had to tell you sooner," Amber admitted. "So, I got permission to travel from the council, and then I came here to see you. I'll transport over to see Mom and Dad to let them know, too."

"Mom's going to have a heart attack," Theo laughed. "I think she thought she still had a while before she'd have to deal with you getting married."

"You're probably right, but I'm almost more worried that Dad will be the one against it," Amber admitted. "I swear, even now he still sees me as his baby girl. He's going to be a mess when he finds out."

"I don't think either of them will be against it—they'll be happy for you," Theo promised with a smile. "Who wouldn't be excited about an engagement?"

Amber smiled in return, still fiddling with her ring. "I hope it won't stress them out," she mumbled. "I know you all have a lot going on here, too."

"Please, a wedding is much more exciting than a coronation," Theo scoffed. "It will give us something to look forward to after surviving jumping through so many political hoops. Well, unless you're planning on having the wedding first."

"No, that's way too fast," Amber insisted. "I was ecstatic that M asked me, but we both agreed that we were going to have to give ourselves a while to plan this out."

"Speaking of M, I'm surprised he didn't want to come share the news with you," Theo said with a smirk. "Didn't feel like getting interrogated by all of us?" He made a show of thinking about it. "You know, I don't remember him ever asking my permission for your hand in marriage…"

"He doesn't have to ask you for anything," Amber scoffed, elbowing him, but then her expression clouded. "I was going to invite him to come with me, but something came up last night with his company, so I didn't want to bother him with a first-realm trip."

"Everything all right?" Theo asked.

"I actually don't know," Amber admitted with a sigh. "He texted last night and told me he's going to be a MIA this rest of this week, dealing with some last-minute changes with the company, and that I shouldn't worry if I don't hear from him for a bit."

"Did you ask him what's going on?" Theo pressed.

"I did, but he just told me that he'll fill me in after he works through it." Amber shrugged, moving to sit back down on the sofa. "Part of me still wants to demand that he tell me what's going on, but I've known him long enough to know that will just stress him out. He's probably neck-deep into whatever it is, trying to get it sorted as fast as possible."

"Hmm. Sounds like it's serious, if he's pulling the 'I don't want you to worry' card," Theo mused as he took a seat next to her.

"Yeah. I almost want to reach out to Agatha and Julien just to see what's going on, but M might be hurt if I try going over his head." Amber smiled sadly. "I hope it's nothing too serious. I've never seen him work so hard at something, and that's saying a lot, since we both graduated full marks from an elite private school. If all his hard work just goes down the drain now…"

"Hey, I'm sure it's not that serious," Theo insisted, reaching out to tug on her horn. Rather than look comforted, Amber's expression fell further.

"You know the worst part?" she asked softly. "I should be most worried about the state of his company…but deep down, I'm mostly scared that if everything falls apart for him there, he'll call off the engagement."

"Do you really think he would?" Theo asked in surprise.

"I don't know," Amber admitted. "I want to say he would never do that, but marriage in general has always been a touchy subject for him. He was always going on and on about having a foundation in place before we take that step, so if the foundation he's been building crumbles away…" she trailed off, and Theo realized suddenly that his sister looked close to tears.

"You're really worried about this," he realized, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Look, Ams…no matter how impressive it is that M built his own company, or how hard he's worked at it…You are his foundation, not his company. If he forgets that, make sure you remind him." He frowned, holding up an aura-engulfed hand meaningfully. "Or maybe I can remind him."

Amber winced. "Don't threaten my boyfriend, Tay," she accused.

"I'm not threatening anyone!" Theo insisted with a smirk as he let the aura wink out. "And besides, he's your fiancé now, not your boyfriend."

"Yeah, I guess that's true," Amber conceded. She inhaled deeply, leaning back into the sofa. "I'm sure it will be fine. I guess I just have a hard time being excited for things…it always feels like something's going to come along and ruin everything once my hopes are up."

"Well, I guess I can relate to that feeling," Theo agreed. "But I think that may just be our trauma talking."

His sister smiled at that. "Probably so," she admitted. "At any rate, I would hate to tell everyone we were engaged if he's just going to call it off."

"He won't," Theo insisted, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "I mean, he's no Oni, but we've both seen how stubborn he is. If he decided he's ready for this step, he's not going to let business troubles of all things scare him out of it."

Amber's expression softened. "You're right," she offered before changing the subject. "So, how are things coming with your coronation?"

"Smooth sailing as far as I'm concerned," Theo said with a shrug. "I think at this rate, I'll be able to take over the realm without too many problems. Honestly, I'm more worried about what will be coming next."

"You mean, actually having to rule over everyone?" Amber teased.

"Kind of," Theo said before glancing at his sister. "Look, I don't want you to think I'm stealing your thunder, or anything…but I feel like I should let you know that Rook and I will be announcing our engagement at my coronation."

Amber blinked in surprise. "But you're already married!" she pointed out, but then she winced. "Wait…you still haven't told our parents about that, have you?"

"Actually, it all came to light a few weeks back," Theo admitted, and she sat up to stare at him.

"Geez…were they mad?"

"I'm sure you could imagine how they reacted," Theo agreed. "Though, I think they were more hurt than angry."

Amber suddenly looked sick. "Did you tell them that I knew?"

"They know that you knew about the wedding, but not that you attended," Theo said with a grimace. "We've more or less sorted it all out by now, but they're pretty adamant that Rook and I aren't going to be able to get bound anytime soon."

"Oh." Amber looked away. "I wish you had told me…then I wouldn't have come flaunting my ring and—"

"Don't be stupid," Theo laughed. "I'm super happy about being the first one to know about you and M tying the knot. A binding is a little too complicated to try to plan at the same time as a coronation, and now with my baby sister getting married, it probably makes even more sense to postpone for the time being." He shrugged. "For now, we'll announce our intentions to be bound at least, and Rook should still get the respect she's due, even if we can't have the actual ceremony right away."

Amber nodded, and the siblings fell silent, lost in their own thoughts for a little while. "I didn't realize you guys were trying to get bound soon, but I guess that makes sense," Amber finally said. "You did always say that you wanted it to happen after you became Ruler. I just didn't realize you meant right after. Now I really wonder if my announcement will give Mom and Dad a heart attack."

"They'll be excited for you," Theo insisted. "They really like M, after all…so why wouldn't they want you to make it official?"

Amber glanced over at him, and given the look on her face, Theo had a feeling that she was reading his real feelings. He sighed, wishing he was better at hiding them.

"You can tell I'm a little jealous, can't you?" he asked softly.

"Yeah…but I can guess why," Amber replied. "Do you want to come with me when I go tell them?"

Theo thought about it for a minute. "I'm not against coming, but to be honest, things are still a little tense between me and our parents. I'd hate to ruin the mood."

Amber frowned. "It won't ruin the mood." She pushed herself to her feet, looking determined. "In fact, bring Rook too. We'll make a whole dinner out of it."

Theo blinked. "Ams, are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Amber insisted. "M's dealing with who knows what right now, probably stressed out of his mind. The least I could do is help repair things within my own family so that he doesn't have to deal with all our drama on top of it."

"Oh, please…dealing with family drama is a well-known marital hazard, and besides, I'm sure he's used to how we are by now," Theo teased as he stood up to join her. "But I see your point. I'll go let Rook know we're going to the Central Fortress for dinner tonight."

12

A faint whiff of anxiety caused Raiyn to pause, and he turned in the hallway with a frown as he deciphered who the echo of emotion had originated from. "I wonder what's stressing Theo out," he mumbled, but then a small hand was tugging on his arm.

"Let's play dragons!" Ora demanded, grinning up at him. "You be the king dragon, and Peder and I will be your minions!"

"Imma fire dragon," Peder agreed softly, and Raiyn turned his attention back to the twins.

"All right. Where should we play?"

"The stables!" Ora insisted. "We have a new hideout there—it can be our dragon hideout!" She pulled Raiyn through the fortress with her brother following behind. Raiyn's mind wandered as they traveled, and he found himself unconsciously probing for further feelings from the Oni Heir. He picked up on further anxiety before catching himself and cutting off his connection.

It's none of my business, he reminded himself, trying to ignore his curiosity. Experiencing the Now was different than the Before and the Later. Rather than actually seeing things play out in the present, Raiyn only had feelings to go off of, and generally unless he was trying to connect with someone, he only felt the emotional echoes if the feelings were really strong.

He used to bring it up to his father or Iona every time he sensed someone's feelings, but he knew better now. After all, they always told him it wasn't his business to pry, and for the most part, he agreed. However, he refused to try to cut himself off from other people's feelings completely. It might not be his business to know the reason behind every spike of worry, happiness, or anger…but wasn't it a good thing for him to know when people were in the depths of grief, or if something was filling them with terror? How was Raiyn—or anybody—supposed to help someone suffering like that if he wasn't alerted to when it was happening? Besides, it wasn't like he was inundated with the feelings of everyone in the realm. At a distance, he could only sense the emotions of those he was close to, so it wasn't really as big of deal as Iona always made it out to be.

"Hello, Ora, hello, Peder. Do your parents know you're here?" a stablehand asked as the three of them reached the stables at last.

"They know we are playing with Raiyn!" Ora insisted, beaming up at the man. "They don't mind if we come see the hoofers, either!"

"All right, but don't get too rowdy. Even well-trained hoofers can kick when startled, so don't go into any of the stalls, okay?" the stable hand ordered.

"We won't!" the twins promised, and the stablehand sighed as he glanced at Raiyn.

"Keep an eye on these troublemakers," he ordered. "Last week, they spilled an entire trough of grain when I wasn't looking."

"We promise we won't make any more messes," Ora said solemnly, and the stable hand gave Raiyn a final look of warning before moving to continue his chores.

"Why are we in the stables, again?" Raiyn asked, eyeing the animals around him nervously.

"Because!" Ora insisted in a loud whisper as she dragged Raiyn over to the far end of the stable. "See this ladder? Peder and I found it a few days ago, and it leads up to a secret hideout!"

"Oh, I see," Raiyn said, studying the ladder in question. It led up to the rafters of the stable, where various planks had been laid to create a walking space with a few scattered tools. "I'm not sure how safe that is, Ora," he pointed out. "I think that area was put together so someone could work on the roof."

"It's safe, see?" Ora insisted, clambering up the ladder at an impressive speed.

"Be careful!" Raiyn warned, but as she made her way out onto the beams, he had to admit that they did look more secure than he realized. He couldn't help but smile a little as Ora's excitement washed down on him.

"This is our dragon cave. We have to sleep here at night and then we can fly down during the day and look for food…like tasty hoofers!"

"Yum, yum," Peder growled softly as he began climbing up after his sister. Raiyn followed suit, and soon they were reenacting every scenario that Ora could come up with. Raiyn's mind wandered as he went through the motions of their game. He hadn't talked to his father again yet about his dream, but he was realizing it might be his only chance to really figure it out. Maybe if he told Hershel how it actually ended, his father would realize why it was so important that he figure out exactly what that place was. Iona had made it clear she wasn't going to say anything, and his mother had already asked him to drop it—if Raiyn wanted the truth, he was going to have to get it out of his father directly.

"Raiyn, you need to eat your food!" Ora chastised, holding out a fistful of hay.

"Oh, right," he replied before pretending to eat the offered 'food.' Ora and Peder's contented feelings continued to surround him as they played, but suddenly, Raiyn realized he could sense someone else. He frowned, turning toward the emotions he was picking up on. They were murky and hard to distinguish, which wasn't out of the ordinary for someone he didn't know. Raiyn would have assumed they were coming from the stablehand, but the worker in question was in a nearby stall brushing a hoofer, and the unfamiliar emotions were coming from the nearby wall of the stable. While the twins chattered happily and climbed back up the ladder to their hideout, Raiyn stayed behind and peered at the wall in question. The more he probed, the more he realized the feelings did have a glimmer of familiarity…

A flash of sudden fear from above reached him at the same time the scream did. Shocked out of his thoughts, Raiyn turned in time to see Ora falling through the rafters to the floor below. Pieces of old wood fell with her—the remnants of the beam she had just broken through.

Raiyn lurched forward, but the young girl hit the ground with a sickening crack before he could break her fall. Nausea washed over him as Ora's panicked feelings suddenly dulled, and Peder's screams caused the stablehand to come running.

"Ancients!" the young man cursed when he saw the situation. "I'll…I'll go get a healer!"

He bolted from the stable as Raiyn reached Ora quickly. "Stop it, Peder," Raiyn snapped, his heart pounding as he pulled the girl's limp form into his lap. "Stop screaming like that! Ora's going to be fine."

Peder's screams turned to silent sobs, and Raiyn closed his eyes as he focused on Ora's body. She was breathing, but she was unconscious. With the sound she made when she landed, something was definitely broken. It doesn't matter, he thought, forcing his thoughts to stop spiraling. It doesn't matter what's broken…I can fix it.

As he focused his energy on girl in front of him, he found the wispy threads of her emotions. He grasped them tightly with his mind, holding them fast to keep Ora bound to the world around her.

It had been a long time since he had done something like this, and his body shook with exertion as he willed his own emotions to accumulate. Fix it, he ordered as he felt his body grow warm from the energy he was gathering inside of himself. Fix whatever the problem is!

His body shuddered as the energy poured out of him—though his arms, down the threads of life that he was gripping, and into Ora. Her body felt warmer now, and Raiyn tried to ignore the headache that was forming, making his skull feel like it was about to split apart. His eyes flew open at last as he tried to see if his efforts were making any difference, but light blinded him, and for a moment, his senses vanished, leaving him adrift in a sea of white nothingness.

"Raiyn!"

The voice sounded a million miles away, and the light finally faded, allowing his vision to return. "Raiyn…is here," he mumbled, struggling to orient himself as his body sagged with exhaustion. "Raiyn just…wanted to help."

Arms were grabbing him, and as he looked up, he realized it was Syn who had been calling him. Her concern pelted him like cold rain, further bringing him back from the warm, light nothingness.

"Help Ora! Help Ora!" Peder was begging, and Raiyn realized the younger twin was clinging to Syn's side, sobbing.

"Ora's fine now," he promised, and Syn's expression was pinched as she lifted Ora's sleeping form from Raiyn's lap into her own.

"Did you…" Syn started, but then she trailed off, her expression twisting.

Suddenly, a hand clamped down on Raiyn's shoulder, and he jumped in alarm. He turned to see his uncle staring at him.

"Tolan—" Syn started, but her husband cut her off.

"He knows better," he insisted, and before Raiyn could react, Tolan was dragging him out of the stable.

---

M rubbed his face, hoping that he didn't look as tired as he was. He had learned more about non-profit organizations in the last twelve hours than he had ever known, and still had no idea how this kind of change would fully affect his company. Rather than give up and let Agatha and Julien take the reins, however, he decided that he needed to get one important step done in person before moving on to anything else.

"Welcome to Specter Inc. Do you have an appointment?" a cheerful secretary asked, and M forced a smile on his face as the automatic doors closed behind him.

"I'm a little early," he admitted, making his way over to the desk as he scanned the lobby. The building wasn't much to look at on the outside, but the interior was decorated in colorful, abstract art and furniture. It looked more like a swanky hotel than a tech business.

"Name?" the secretary prompted as he reached her.

"M. Openheimer. I should be meeting with—"

"Ah, yes, you're Mr. Reid's one o'clock," the lady interrupted. "I will let him know you're here."

"Thanks," M offered, straightening his tie. When he had first started meeting with CEOs and others in the business field, he had felt intimidated and awkward in these situations. Now, meetings like this were basically old hat, but M still couldn't stop from feeling a little nervous. He started heading for a thin, olive-green futon nearby to wait, but the secretary called out to him before he had a chance to take a seat.

"He's ready for you, Mr. Openheimer. You can follow Schmidt here to Mr. Reid's office." She gestured to a security guard who had suddenly appeared, and M nodded his understanding before moving to follow after the guard. He expected to be led to an elevator that would take him to a penthouse office, but to his surprise, they reached their destination after going down a few hallways on the first floor. The door was half-open, and the security guard poked his head in.

"Sir, your one o'clock," he offered, and the voice that answered was surprisingly young.

"Send him in!" the voice offered, and the guard gestured for M that he could go inside. He nodded his understanding before pushing the door open further so he could enter the office.

It was well-decorated, but still vastly different from the giant, pent-house offices that M usually met CEOs in. Maybe this was just a separate receiving office?

"Hey, great timing—I'm just about finished here," the man at the desk offered around a mouthful of sub sandwich. M hesitated as the speaker gestured to a sofa up against the wall. "Go ahead and have a seat and I'll meet you over there."

"Um…" M said before he could stop himself. The man at the desk didn't look like he expected. His hair was dark and messy, and rather than a suit, he was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. Though his face matched the pictures M had researched online, in person, this man seemed much younger than thirty-five.

"I'm just finishing up lunch, but you're not interrupting anything, don't worry," the man laughed, gesturing to the couch again. Not really having anything else to say, M headed over to the sofa and sat down. Within a few minutes, the head of Specter Inc. came to join him.

"Look at you—my schedule says you're a CEO, but you honestly look like you're still in High School or something," the man laughed as he reached out a hand to M.

M accepted the hand-shake, shrugging a shoulder. "I get that a lot, but I'm actually twenty-three," he offered.

The man laughed louder. "You realize that isn't much better?" he chuckled.

"It's nice to meet you in person, Mr. Reid—" M started, but the other CEO cut him off.

"Please, you can just call me Dustin," he insisted. "And your name is…wait, let me think…" he frowned. "It's just like, one letter, right? Q? Or R? Or…"

"I'm M," he sighed. "M. Openheimer."

"That's right!" Dustin Reid snapped his fingers. "M. Very fresh, very sporty. I feel like ten years from now, all the kids will be going by one letter. Of course, if that happens, things will be confusing. Imagine all the Annabelles, Alices, and Avangeline's going by the letter A. How would teachers ever call role?" He plopped down on the sofa next to M. "Sorry, getting off track here. Can I get you a drink? Or I guess, get someone else who can get you a drink while we talk?"

"I'm fine," M said, his headache starting to get worse. "I appreciate you fitting me in today."

"Sure thing! You're the spokesperson for that new company—the one that makes prosthetics, right?" he pulled out his phone, though it was unclear whether he was checking a schedule or merely scrolling the web. "Or is that my three-o-clock?"

"I'm the CEO of Armed with Power, yes," M agreed, trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice. "I've been in Metallonia on business, but my partners let me know that you reached out to them while I was gone and made an offer of sponsorship, so I'm here to follow up."

"Oh, that's right! We did reach out a few weeks ago, but last I heard, your company never gave us a definite answer." Dustin glanced up. "From one CEO to another, I feel like I should tell you that things move fast in the business world. You really shouldn't have kept us waiting for so long."

M's expression didn't change. "Does that mean you're rescinding your offer?" he asked evenly.

"Geez, not one ounce of panic, huh? You've got quite the poker face," Dustin Reid laughed. "Nah, I'm still down to sponsor. We've been seeing a lot of success lately, and you know, I'd love to pay it forward by helping out a good cause. An original non-profit taking on such an underrated corner of the market—you sure had a great idea going when you decided to pursued this. A lot of people are going to be really grateful for your products, I can tell."

"Well, that's the hope," M agreed, studying the man sitting next to him. Based on what he had read online, Dustin Reid's laid-back personality didn't change the fact that he was still considered one of the top business professionals in the field. So, was this buddy-buddy act who he really was, or just some kind of performance?

"I bet I could have someone pull up the paperwork, if that's why you're here," Dustin continued, searching his pockets for a pen. "Very professional of you, to come do it in person."

"I have a copy of the contract," M assured, popping open his briefcase to fish it out. "Your team was kind enough to send it to me."

"Great! Did you have any questions? Or maybe you just wanted to meet me in person before signing anything?" Dustin guessed.

"To be honest, I haven't decided whether I'm going to accept your offer," M said, and the other man blinked in surprise.

"Oh, I see. You're still on the fence? I could give you a few more days, but it's already been a while. I get you're new at this, but you can't keep people waiting forever, M."

"I'd prefer if you called me Mr. Openheimer," M said, meeting Dustin's eye. The other CEO's smile faded, and M held up the contract. "This is a very generous offer, and I know that my partners have already expressed interest in accepting it. But you must know by now that our business wasn't intended to be a non-profit."

"Wait, really?" Dustin asked, sounding surprised. "I thought your whole thing was like giving limbs to less-fortunate kids and stuff. You were planning on making them pay full price?"

"We had the goal to make our product as accessible as possible, but given the price of the engineering involved to make such high-quality prosthetics, we would have needed to charge clients a reasonable price in order to make a profit," M explained. "It's pretty typical for high-quality medical equipment to cost a lot."

"I suppose so," Dustin agreed. He wasn't as happy-go-lucky now—he was studying M closely, as if trying to decide whether he actually knew what he was talking about or not.

"That said, it would be nice if we could offer our products to a larger percentage of those who actually need them, and lowering costs with this agreement could be the way to do that. Though it would be an absolute pain to try and reconfigure my entire business model at this point of the operation, I probably could be convinced to do so and turn Armed Power into a non-profit…" M laid the paper packet down on the table next to the sofa, raising an eyebrow. "But not with this contract."

Dustin snorted. "What issue do you have with it, Mr. Openheimer?"

"For starters, the non-compete agreement within it is highly unappreciated," M said flatly, no longer trying to hide his annoyance.

"Ah, I guess I can see why that could have startled you," Dustin offered, seeming unfazed. "People like to make non-competes out to be scary, but they're actually quite a common practice within businesses."

"Not typically in these situations," M countered. "Quite frankly, there's no reason for someone who does not currently sell prosthetics to include a non-compete agreement within a sponsorship contract. We already do not offer the same products, so there's no reason to worry we would try and compete with you."

"I see where you're coming from, but that isn't quite how businesses work," Dustin countered. He was still smiling, but there was a steeliness to his expression now. "Just because we've been seeing success doesn't mean that we're free to invest in every other tech startup without fear of repercussion. We're willing to give you a large sum of money every month…we have to make sure that it won't be used to our detriment in the long run."

"I can appreciate that," M agreed. "But our only products at the moment are prosthetics, so I'm not sure you could really label us as a 'tech startup.'"

"Well, just because your product line is narrow now doesn't mean that it will always be," Dustin argued. "After all, Specter originated as a phone-accessory company, but within a few years we've branched out into far more areas of the market."

"So, you intend to cripple us before we could follow the same path," M said flatly. "As if your demands for us to become non-profit don't already accomplish that feat, since we would never be able to compete with a business such as yours with the stipulations a non-profit license would put on us."

"You're thinking too much into this," Dustin insisted. "Non-compete agreements are standard practice, and besides—you're right that it won't really matter once your company is non-profit."

"Maybe I am overthinking it," M muttered. "After all, I've been spending the last few days trying to figure all of the rules and fine print by myself."

"I remember those days," Dustin offered with a tight smile. "It'll be rough for a little while, but there's no harm in relying on those who have walked this road before, M. I mean, Mr. Openheimer."

M leaned forward, staring down at the contract on the table. "I guess what's really getting to me is the way the non-compete agreement is worded. See, it's almost like you don't anticipate our company, Armed with Power, to be able to compete with you—it's more like you want to make sure that Julien Cyrus and Agatha will be banned from being involved in any projects that could. They're extremely talented engineers, after all, so maybe you just want to make sure they stay tied up with prosthetics for the foreseeable future."

Silence fell, and M reached out to pick up the contract and flip it to the page in question.

"Maybe that was unintentional, but still. I'm not signing a contract that will keep them from being involved in any non-prosthetic engineering for twenty years, which is exactly what this clause would accomplish, the way you've worded it." He glanced over at Dustin. "In conclusion, if you'd actually like to sponsor Armed with Power, I would appreciate you actually making it worth our while."

Dustin Reid didn't say anything for a moment, but then he began to laugh. "By the arms of Garmadon…you're a cheeky one, aren't you? If I offered the amount in that contract to any other starting company…"

"I'm not asking you to give us more money," M corrected. "Like I said at the beginning of our conversation, your promised sponsorship is very generous, and I'd even be willing to change our company model so that it would be able to secure a non-profit license, despite the fact that doing so will cut my expected yearly salary a great deal." M leaned backward on the sofa. "You can gush about supporting the 'good fight' all you want, but I'm well aware that the reason that a company such as yourself would stipulate a business being a non-profit is so that you can count the monthly sponsorship as a charitable donation, which will give your company a large tax break. The reason that you've chosen to reach out to us instead of the hundreds of other non-profits in the area is because you know that if you could convince a tech-based company to change our business model, you'll keep our company from competing with you in the future, because no matter how successful we become, we would be limited in what we could do as a non-profit. The way I see it, your company would be benefiting a great deal from this proposal, while the only benefit to us would be the ability to keep ourselves afloat as a non-profit…which isn't even that big of an incentive, given that all of our salaries would be a lot higher in our current business model, and we would have far fewer hoops to jump through. Not to mention, we could never truly feel independent, as we would rely on a larger company to keep us in business." He rubbed his face irritably. "The fact that you then added a stipulation on top of everything that would keep 'the business of Armed with Power and all its founders from engaging in fields which could directly compete with Specter Inc;' is honestly a slap in the face."

The CEO of Specter seemed pensive now. M appreciated that the he at least let him talk through it all, rather than trying to talk over him or kicking him out of his office—both of which had happened to M in his quest for sponsors. Maybe he was looking for loopholes in M's argument, or maybe he was actually listening.

"So, as someone who has 'walked the road before me,' as you put it, perhaps you could explain to me exactly what the benefit to our company would be if I signed this contract," M finished.

The office was quiet, and M's heart was pounding. He forced himself to stay calm—in all his experiences in the past few years, he had determined that keeping a neutral expression was the best in these situations. As much as he hated to admit it, he wondered if this was the reason his father had gotten in the habit of always looking so stoic.

"Hmm…you know, this wasn't the conversation I was expecting to have when I saw you on my schedule today," Dustin finally said. "I suppose I can see your point…but do you really think your little company has what it takes to survive on its own?" He leaned forward, his expression suddenly hard to read.

"I spent the last few years preparing this business so it can do just that," M replied evenly. "I guess no one can really be sure, but I feel confident we could do it."

"It's not as easy as it looks, running a business," Dustin pointed out. "I was older than you when I first got started, and I went bankrupt back then. It's pretty normal to fail a few times before finally striking gold…and even then, most of the time you don't even strike gold, you just strike something that's worth enough to keep your head just above water." He shrugged. "You found an un-monopolized corner of the market with prosthetics, I'll give you that…but it's not the type of thing that's going to be able to keep you afloat. It's a specialized business, and with the rates you'd have to charge, you'd ostracize a large chunk of your already narrow clientele base. Trust me on this one…this kind of business would do a lot better as a non-profit than it would a typical business."

"Well, if that's true, then I would be wise to accept your offer of sponsorship," M forced himself to say. He tried to hide his anger that all his hard work was being treated so flippantly. As frustrating as it was to be told that his company wasn't good enough to survive on its own, M also didn't want to come across as naïve by insisting that he'd make it happen no matter what. He reached down to pick up the contract, studying it absently. "Perhaps it would be better as a non-profit, and your generous donation would help us accomplish that. However, if you're set on a non-compete agreement being enclosed, then it will need to be reworded. If not, then we will take our chances with our original business model."

"Hmmm. How would you reword it? Like I said before, non-compete agreements tend to be pretty standard in this industry, so I'm not sure I'm willing to take it out."

"If you don't want Armed with Power to compete with you, then let's make it clear that it's the company specifically that will be exempt from competing," M said. "Our focus is prosthetics, but I suppose it would be possible for us to delve into other avenues of robotics in later years, which could be considered an overlap with you. So, I'd allow a clause that says that we won't engineer things outside of prosthetics within Armed with Power, but I won't agree to anything that would ban us founders from joining other business or engineering ventures in the future."

"Do you have more companies in mind already?" Dustin asked. "My, what an ambitious twenty-three-year-old you are."

"I'm not really at liberty to discuss anything with you other than the company that you're interested in sponsoring," M said flatly. The truth was, he really didn't have any future plans—as it was, he was swamped enough with this current business. Still, he didn't like the thought of purposefully shackling Julien and Agatha to a contract that would keep them from competing with another tech company. After all, if this all flopped and Armed with Power went under, would a contract like that force the two of them to only be able to work for Specter Inc. if they wanted to be a part of the tech business world at all?

"I see," Dustin offered slowly.

"In addition to us agreeing not to compete with your tech, I would expect you to also sign a non-compete agreement," M added. The other CEO blinked in surprise.

"You want us to sign a non-compete?" he asked.

"It only seems fair," M insisted. "If we are going to be limited in what we can do, then we should at least have the security of knowing that our sponsors won't start making prosthetics that could ultimately make us redundant."

"How unorthodox," Dustin mused. "So, in addition to us forking over a large monthly sum to keep your company in business, you want us to sign the very type of agreement you're refusing to sign yourself?"

"Like I've explained, I have less of a problem with the non-compete agreement if it's geared toward the company, not us founders…and I don't think it's too much to ask you to not make prosthetics, seeing as you don't make them right now anyway, and the non-compete aimed at us would keep us from making anything else." M checked his watch, and moved to stand. "It seems we've gone past my appointment time already."

"It seems we have," Dustin realized, glancing at the clock on his wall. "Well, I suppose that's what they say—time flies when you're having fun."

"My partners and I are prepared to give you a final answer by Saturday," M said. "I won't be signing anything today, but I would like to know whether you would consider the changes to the contract that I've outlined. Your answer will allow us to make our decision." He stared at the other man expectantly, and Dustin smirked.

"I think I'll need time to think about all this myself," he said, and M's heart sank. He had hoped to at least get closure on this much today so that he could at least better decide whether it was even worth it to go the non-profit route or not. Still, he and Julien and Agatha had already left Specter waiting this long, so he supposed it would be hypocritical to demand an answer now.

"Alright. I'll be looking to hear from you before Saturday," he agreed, snapping his briefcase closed. "Thank you again for your time."

He started heading for the door, and Dustin called out after him. "So…I was nice enough to extend a sponsorship, and you respond by showing up, ripping apart the contract, and then leaving with the final word? How Matilda O'Keefe of you."

M froze next to the door. "Excuse me?" he murmured coldly.

"I wondered if you'd be like her," Dustin mused. "You're her son, aren't you? I guess I shouldn't be too surprised at the resemblance."

M had been reaching out for the doorknob, and he could see his hand shaking. It wasn't like his mother never got brought up in meetings like this—she was infamous across the realm at this point, after all. Still, after meeting Dustin in person, M hadn't thought he'd be the type to bring her up. Or maybe he had just stupidly assumed that it had been long enough now that people would have forgotten about Matilda O'Keefe.

"I assure you, I have nothing to do with my mother," M replied, though it took every ounce of restraint to keep his tone even.

"I didn't think you had," Dustin assured, and M glanced backward to see the Specter CEO lounging thoughtfully on his sofa. "Honestly, I just saw a slight resemblance is all. I know that if she had trained you herself, you wouldn't come across so naïve and unpolished, even as young as you are."

M narrowed his eyes, not sure whether he should even bother responding. It would honestly probably be best if he left now before saying anything else, but he also needed to know what this Dustin Reid character was getting at. Was this lecture some kind of test? Or was he never intending on extending a sponsorship at all, and the meeting today just a joke?

"Don't look so offended," Dustin offered. "Not many twenty-three-year-olds could come in here like you did and execute a professional-sounding pitch. But you're stiff, and even under your calm demeaner, it's pretty clear you're in over your head."

"Why bring up Matilda?" M cut in. "What's the point of saying that right as I was leaving?"

Dustin laughed, holding up his hands. "Hey, not every comment is some subtle chess-move, you know," he said. "I just say what I see, and for a moment there, you reminded me of her is all."

"How did you know her?" M asked in spite of himself.

"Well…I guess I didn't know her personally," Dustin admitted, leaning forward with a smirk. "But one of her companies was the reason that my first startup went bankrupt, back when I was only a little older than you."

M felt a rush of alarm, and his thoughts must have been clearly written on his face because Dustin winced.

"You're probably wondering if this was all some kind of trap now, huh?" he guessed. "I actually didn't know who you were when I first reached out to Armed with Power— I really am interested in sponsoring. But after learning exactly who this 'M. Openheimer' kid was, I suppose I was a little curious about you. Back in the day, I researched Matilda's methods a lot—you could say I'm a bit of an expert on her. I'm surprised it took the rest of the world so long to realize her methods tended to be unscrupulous…but don't worry. I don't base my opinion of people on their colleagues, associates…or even family. It's not like I'm after revenge or anything, so you can relax."

"You obviously meant something by it, or you wouldn't have brought it up at all," M said flatly.

"Maybe." Dustin pushed himself to his feet. "But it's nothing personal. Even if you are a little similar in some ways, it's clear you aren't anywhere near her level…so I guess I don't have anything to worry about."

M processed that as the other CEO walked over to his desk. "What exactly would you be worried about?" he demanded. "That I would somehow screw you over, the same way my Mom did? If so, then it sounds like you definitely based your opinion on me off of her."

"No, my opinion of you is based off of our meeting today," Dustin argued. "And to be fair, your mother didn't screw me over—at least, not in a way that I could ever prove. At the time, it just came down to her being a stronger CEO than I was." He met M's eye meaningfully. "The business world tends to be dog-eat-dog…if you have a weak constitution, something is bound to come along and chew you up, Mr. Openheimer."

"Thanks for the warning," M said dryly, his grip tightening on his briefcase as he opened the door to finally leave. "I'll take that into consideration."

"But that also means that little start-ups have a better chance of surviving if they have a bigger, stronger company looking after them," Dustin called.

"Maybe so…but sometimes the things that claim to be protectors turn out to be predators instead," M replied, glancing back one last time. "That's one thing I did learn from my experiences with my mother."

Dustin's expression clouded, and the door shut behind M as he left the building, his headache stronger than ever.