Gold slept among the clouds that sailed by. Colby watched the way the rays of light tossed and turned with the setting sun while shadows crept further along window pane. The wind rustled the drapes hanging to the windows and tickled the back of the boy’s neck; teasing him with its late summer evening of cut grass and sea water. Colby bit his lip as the parchment from his training practically burned his pocket.

“So,” Kale said, “if Ally has 12 apples, but gives three to Andy, how many apples will she have left?”

Colby glared at the tiny, red blobs scribbled on the board in Kale’s hands. He clucked his tongue before answering, “Nine.”

“Very good,” Kale beamed.

Kale leaned over to check off the problem beside him. Setting the board aside, Kale skimmed over a series of checked marks on a stack of papers. He shuffled through the stack until he reached a page showing a progression maker with different subjects littering the page’s margin.

“You’re making excellent progress in writing and reading,” Kale said to himself, “social studies is good, science is good.” He paused, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Col did you finish that multiplication coloring sheet?”

Colby tapped his pencil on his clipboard and fought back the urge to groan. “I gave it to you.”

“I always have your assignments,” Kale said.

Colby shrugged. “Maybe you lost it.”

“Or,” Kale said, “Maybe a certain mathematician didn’t finish it.”

The boy wrinkled his nose at him. “You know I don’t know big words.”

“Says the kid who can read the Picatrix backwards in Arabic—and Runic.”

Colby groaned, tossing his head back. “Okay, I might have only done half of it. Do I really need to finish something that I already know?”

Kale shook his head, taking Colby’s clipboard. He scanned over the scribbled numbers on the worksheet before plucking a pen from behind his ear. The pen swiped across the page, letting purple ink dance over pencil marks. Kale checked over the questions with his lips pressed together in a firm line.

“Knowing and finishing something are two different things,” Kale said. “You wouldn’t leave a spell incomplete, would you?”

“Speaking of,” Colby said, pulling out the parchment from his pocket. “Can we please practice?”

Kale glanced at the folded paper in Colby’s hands and returned his eyes to the clipboard. “Depends on when I get that worksheet.”

Colby folded his arms across his chest. His fingers crushed the corners of the parchment in his grasp as he swallowed down a tantrum. It wasn’t more so the need to practice that left him restless after training. More so, it was the raw need that followed. In the training grounds of the firmament, magic was at his mercy. He could blink and the magic would pulse through him like a drum with an eternal beat. But here—when he was awake—the magic flowed through his veins like thawing ice. The need to access Khaos was an unnerving itch that couldn’t be scratched unless used regularly.

An itch Kale was determined to have scratch as little as possible.

“Daddy," Colby whined.

“Col,” Kale replied.

Colby’s brows furrowed as he opened his mouth to snap at Kale when a quiet mewl interrupted his thoughts. He yelped as a ball of fur landed on his head and slid into his lap. The black and white speckled cat gave Colby a curious look before leaning down to lick its paws.

“Kalif! Out! Out!” Kale snapped.

He snatched the cat out of Colby’s lap and shooed it back through the window it crept through. Kale closed the window, letting heat fill the room again, and slid to the floor beside Colby.

“I'll never understand how Morado just lets his pets run around like that,” Kale said, cupping Colby’s cheeks as he tilted his face up. “Did he scratch you?”

Colby braced his hands over Kale's. “I'm fine daddy. I’m not going to burn everything I touch.”

Kale let out a quiet sigh of relief, then gave Colby a sheepish glance.

“You know I'm not ashamed of your powers, right?” Kale asked.

“Yeah.” Colby said.

“It’s just barely been a day since the last attack and to have you run out again isn’t safe.”

Colby sat there in silence and sighed dejectedly. “I know.”

Kale dropped his hands from Colby’s face and curled them into fists in his lap. Giving the boy a long look, Kale rose to his feet and gathered the papers from the floor.

“Tomorrow morning,” Kale said. Colby perked up at Kale. “After you give me that worksheet, we can go finish your tasks in the morning. But it will be early, so I don’t want to he any complaining-”

Before Kale could get the words out of his mouth, he felt himself stumble forward. Pages of progress reports fluttered from his grasp onto the floor. Kale’s frown quickly fell as Colby gripped the back of his leg tighter. When he let go, he sprinted out of the living room and up the steps, shouting back a quick “thank you” and slamming his bedroom door behind him.

Kale sighed heavily and set the papers on the coffee table. He reluctantly pulled the crumbled letter from his pocket and settled down into one of the fold up chairs in the room. His stomach twisted at the perfect penmanship swirled across the page.

To whom this may concern,

On behalf of the Pulmonom Council, we wish to inform you of recent events near you. As you may know, the occurrence of illegal use of dark magic in our community have risen since the Awakening. We find it in your best interest to report any sightings of this magic and anyone who may partake in this gross misuse of our good name. Below, you find a list of areas to avoid or be cautious of…

Kale reread the letter so many times that he could recite it by memory, yet he forced himself to read it once more to make sure he was not reading what he wanted to see. The list cited areas that Kale had passed through during Colby’s infancy and other regions Kale had never heard of. His grip on the letter relaxed ever so slightly as he saw that Port Blue Castle was not listed. But for how much longer, Kale didn’t know.