Roar of Dragons

[Sig – 13 years]

After all of the running around, playing, and swimming I did today, I am absolutely wiped. Connor, Sam, Isaac, and I are hanging out in Sam's living room as we try to decide what to do now. They're all wiped as well so goofing around is off the table. That's even with there being a pool out back for us to swim in.

And Xander looks even more tired than I feel. As soon as Mr. Richardson let him in, we all noticed his drooping eyes, slowly nodding head, and the sleepy way he's holding Trenton against his chest.

I think he forgot that sleepovers aren't just sleeping over.

"Are you guys playing games?" Xander asks as Mr. Richardson closes the door.

"We were playing with cards," Sam tells him. "But were thinking of switching to something else. No horsing around tonight, though. We're all too exhausted from the park and stuff for that."

"Okay," Xander says. "I'm really tired, too. If you guys aren't going to play video games, is it okay if I take a nap? And then you wake me when you start playing video games? If you do. You guys said you normally end up playing them, right?"

"We do!" Isaac confirms. "We can do that!"

"Okay," Xander says. "Um… where's the bathroom?"

Sam hops up and shows Xander to the bathroom and when Xander emerges a few minutes later, he's dressed in his green pajamas. We go back to trying to decide what to do and by the time we agree on a board game… Xander's passed out. He's curled up on the ground underneath the corner table between the couch and the love seat, so we didn't notice it at first.

That's… a weird place to fall asleep. How did he even get under there without us noticing?

Oh, well!

About an hour and a half after we start the game, we finish it with Connor coming out the real estate king! If I had more energy, I'd probably tackle him and wrestle him down so he knows I'm the real king here but I'm just too exhausted for that.

"Let's do video games now?" Sam asks.

"Zombies, demons, monsters, or space?" I ask.

"Zombies!" Connor answers. "We still haven't finished that game!"

"That was on my account," I remind him.

"We can always restart!" Sam says. "But with me in control instead of you this time!"

"You'll die in tutorial."

"And learn from the experience!"

"I'll wake Xander," I snicker, then crouch at the small gap where the couch and love seat form a corner. "Xander? Xander, we're gonna play a video game now. It's the zombie shooter game we played at Aunt Rachel's last weekend. Xander? I think he's too asleep. Xaaaander. It's time for Sam to make zombie brains go splat. Xaaaaander."

If this were Connor, Sam, or Isaac, I'd do something else to wake him up but I'm not sure how he'd react to my usual methods of waking my friends up. I only jump on them because I know they'll be cool with it. Some of them aren't possible because there's a table in the way, too. Maybe I can poke him?

Just as I go to poke Xander, he begins to stir.

"Using the ikrozmin rune as a base would probably work better," he mumbles, eyes still closed. "Might fix the wobbles. Then the apples will be happy and stop eating the gummy bears…"

Uh… what?

"Xander?" I whisper.

"But gummy bears are so delicious… just don't eat them until you get a tummy ache, alright?"

"I'll keep that in mind!" I salute.

"Huh?" Xander sleepily opens his eyes. "Oh. Is it video game time?"

"Yup!" I answer. "Were you having a good dream? You talked about some sort of rune and wobbling, and then apples eating gummy bears and not eating gummy bears until you get a stomachache. Ikronizmin?"

"Ikronizmin?" Xander frowns, then moves backwards… and escapes from under the table via the gap between it and the walls. It's apparently far enough away that an entire boy can fit through it. "It was probably ikrozmin. I was talking in my sleep?"

"You do that sometimes!" I nod. "What's the ikrozmin rune? You said it might fix the wobbles."

"I was dreaming about my hoverboard," he covers his mouth as he yawns. "It wobbles a lot. Would the ikrozmin rune work? Hm… maybe…"

Xander climbs over the arm of the couch as he looks thoughtful and I get the feeling that he'll be too distracted by his hoverboard to… hoverboard? Xander's going from making puzzle spheres to attempting to make a hoverboard?

That's quite a leap.

I wish him the best of luck on that. Supposedly, getting a proper functioning one is so hard, it hasn't been done yet. Even the companies within the Lumaria Group haven't managed it yet. While I do know that Xander's a Lumaria King now… I doubt he has access to the sort of funds he'd need to make a hoverboard. I doubt his dorky cousin does, either. That's gotta be hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of research, I'm sure of it.

We start playing the game; well, it's Sam's who's playing while the rest of us are watching are commenting on it. Most of us. Xander mostly watches with an intent look on his sleepy face, as if he's determined to figure something out.

"Sig," Xander whispers to me after the tutorial is over.

Sam only died twice during it, which is a record for the fewest. He normally dies at least four times during the tutorial of this sort of game.

"Yeah?"

"So what is it that the XP thingy does?" Xander asks. "I keep seeing it pop up on the side when Sam was killing the zombies."

Right, Xander doesn't really play video games. He seemed pretty confused when we played this one on Tuesday and I guess he's comfortable enough to ask questions now.

"XP is how you gain Levels," I tell him. "So Sam went from Level 1 to Level 3 during the tutorial he just did. Each time he gains a Level, he gains 5 Stat Points he can use to boost his stats. You pick which stat or stats you want to increase and by how much, up to a total of five points."

Xander asks more questions about how the stat system works, then about the inventory. Being able to carry more than a human could reasonably carry confuses him, but he accepts it after Isaac tells him to imagine it like the game character has a spatial storage.

Then he finds out that you can increase the storage by spending Skill Points, which are also gained upon gaining Levels, as well as from completing certain quests or objectives. Quests also earn us a lot more questions from Xander.

"Do you want to give it a try?" Sam asks after a few hours of playing, along with Xander asking questions here and there. "We can start a new profile if you do!"

"No, thank you," Xander says. "I'm really tired and don't think I can play good. And I'm not sure if Mr. Trey is okay with me playing it, and it's way too late for me to ask. He's probably asleep right now."

I guess there are rules for what sorts of games he can play and he needs to ask about any outside of those allowed by the rules. It's probably something like his dad needs to look into the game and see its ratings and reviews and stuff like that first. My friends' dads all have that requirement for any violent games, though they do usually get a pass.

Aunt Rachel might start doing it, too, and I hope she asks the dads how they determine it so that she doesn't start nixing games like this. I like what I play way too much to give them up.

"Alright," Sam says. "Lemme know if you wanna take over for a bit!"

Sam returns to playing and after a little bit, his dad lets us know he's heading to bed. It's at that point we realize that Xander's been unusually quiet for awhile now and find that he's fallen asleep under the table again.

How does he get under there without us noticing?

Well, it doesn't matter! If he's comfortable sleeping there, there's no harm in letting him!

We return our attention to the game, until we're all too tired to continue focusing on it and decide to get to sleep. It's earlier than normal, but we were all extra active today so we're more exhausted than usual.

[Sig – 13 years]

Xander's not under the table when I wake up, and his backpack is gone. Since there isn't a downstairs-upstairs deal like at Aunt Rachel's, that probably means that he's gone. It's a bit weird that Mr. Richardson isn't out here making breakfast, though. The dads can always tell about when we'll be waking up somehow and are working on making food for us at that time.

Did Mr. Richardson leave to pick something up for us, then? Or did he take Xander home and Xander actually be okay with that instead of getting picked up by his dad?

I go to the kitchen to get something to drink and hear a voice that sounds like Mr. Richardon's coming from outside. Peeking through one of the windows, I find him, Xander, and Xander's dad on the back deck.

Just before I open the door to head outside, a ping that sounds like it's from my phone sounds out. I hurry over to it and grab it and find a message from Carter.

[Carter]: Hey! Saw this article! Do you know anything about it? I think it'd be cool to use in videos if it's real!

If it's real? Clicking on the link he sent, I find an article about someone riding a hoverboard through town yesterday… with the pictures and video being of Xander. The heck?

I pocket my phone and head out back.

"Morning!" I greet them. "Are you grilling breakfast, Mr. Richardson?"

"French toast skewers," he tells me. "And grilled eggs."

The eggs are being cooked in a skillet on the grill, while the skewers are not.

"The skewers are good," Xander whispers to me. "But don't eat the sticks. That sounds like it'd be gross."

"It would be," I snort. "You'd probably get splinters in your mouth, too."

Xander nods with a very serious expression. I don't think he realized I was just being a goof with that. Oh, well!

"So you already ate?" I ask.

"Earlier," Xander nods. "I've been up for awhile, but I wanted to try waiting for you guys to wake up before I left. Mr. Trey came over to talk with Mr. Richardson while we waited."

"I can wake the others!" I tell him.

"You don't have to do that," Xander says.

"I was going to ask him to wake them up," Mr. Richardson tells him. "The other dads want them home soon, too."

"Oh."

Heading inside, I wake my friends up with gentle bodyslams to let them know it's time for breakfast, then everyone has to head home.

"Oh, Xander!" I say as he and Mr. Trey start to leave. "Almost forgot, but right before I came out here, I got a text from a friend a bit northeast of here! He was asking if I knew anything about a hoverboard because of an article he found, and the article was using pictures of you and a video of you. Thought I'd let you know."

"Luke sent me the same article after he found it," Xander says. "I watched it on the way here. I didn't notice him recording me, that was very rude. But it's fun."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam says. "You have a hoverboard?"

"Yeah," Xander nods. "I built it yesterday so that I can ride it while we go places, so you don't need to walk your bikes when we go places for me to stay with you."

None of us really know how to respond to that. He just… built something we know magitech engineers have been struggling to make proper, functional versions of. From puzzle spheres to hoverboards, that's quite a leap.

And he did it so that we wouldn't have to walk our bikes.

"We don't mind walking our bikes!" I tell him. "It gives us more chatting time on the way! So we'll get to see it next time we go to the park or something? In-person, I mean, not just in an article."

"Yeah," Xander nods. "Um… I think Mr. Trey wants to go now. Bye, everyone."

"Cool!" I say. "Bye, Xander!"

"Bye!" Connor tells him.

The others tell him goodbye, too, then Xander leaves. We eat breakfast while talking about how cool it is that Xander's got a hoverboard now, then we all head home. I almost go back to my parents' house out of habit, but correct myself and go to Aunt Rachel's new house.

Almost immediately upon opening the gate to the back yard so I can put my bike away before going inside, I get tackled by a dog with dark and golden brown fur. He hits me with enough force to knock me down and licks my face like crazy, causing me to giggle as I try to push him off of me. There's just too much excitement in him, though, and I don't put too much effort into it.

"Turtle! Heel!" A firm voice calls, and the dog stops licking me and walks over to Mr. Fuller, who's approaching with Aunt Rachel and Hunter. "Sorry about that, S.G., he's just a little excited."

"Who's dog is he?" I get up off the ground. "Yours?"

"Yeah," Mr. Fuller answers. "His name's Turtle, and I got him at an adoption event yesterday afternoon. Since we couldn't get the house we wanted, we got a dog instead."

"That's cool," I pick my bike back up. "That's a lot of excitement in a dog."

"He's been super excitable ever since we brought him home yesterday," Hunter snorts. "He didn't hurt you, didn't he?"

"Nope!" I thump my chest. "I'm made of pretty stern stuff! Though I guess he did get dirt on me, but it'll brush off! See!"

"You've got some on your back, too," he snorts. "Rachel invited us to bring him over this morning; Dad apparently let her know about us getting a dog and your guys' back yard is bigger than ours, so she thought he might like running around it."

Hunter rolls his eyes while giving me a look that tells me all I need to know. He's just as aware as I am that my aunt and his dad like each other.

"More space to run around," Aunt Rachel says. "Even with the pool. Close the gate, he'll only stay in one spot for so long."

I hurry and close the gate, then put my bike away, pull off my backpack and set it and my helmet on the deck, then play with Turtle and Hunter. The dog really is excitable and constantly runs around, only occasionally stopping briefly for a two-lap drink before wanting to play with a ball or stick or something again.

Didn't Xander mention a dog named Turtle at the shelter? Something about him constantly getting sent back? When we asked him about that, Xander told us that the dog was just happy about having a new home but his new owners never liked that and returned him within a week.

I bet Mr. Fuller won't do that. He even joins us to play with Turtle!

[Greyson – 10 years] → starts around the beginning of Sig's PoV

"You made sure to book adjoining rooms, right?" Cal asks Dad. "Not the same room, and not completely separated rooms? Greyson sleeps better when he has his own room, but it's still a good idea to have an easy way to reach him. As much of a handful as he can be, he'll leave that door unlocked if you tell him to. I think, anyway. We've never been in a hotel before…"

"Sort of," Dad tells him as I continue fiddling with the small magitech board I'm making. It's only about six inches long, an inch wide, and roughly a quarter of an inch thick so it requires extra care. "We're actually staying at at B and B. I felt it might be a better transition for Greyson if it feels like a home, and each room has its own bathroom as well."

I scouted out the place yesterday to make sure it's suitable and not a part of the Faction. Everything came up clean except for the air ducts, but I took care of those.

"That might actually work," Cal holds out a binder. "This has everything I can think of which might be important for taking Greyson on a trip. I know you've been raising him for less than a year now, but I still do so much, and I raised him for way longer. There's a lot which goes into accounting for him being Autistic. Remember that there are a lot of things he can't help. That's why associations are key. One of the really important ones is shopping. I know you know this, but make sure you tell him to keep a hand on the cart. It took so long to create the association between that and not being allowed to walk off and mess with things, and it's the best way to ensure he won't."

Hand goes on the cart, no hands go on other stuff without permission. That's how it is. Others don't follow that rule, but it's the rule.

"I know," Dad tells Cal. "When we got him tested, I studied a bit on it. Autistics tend to have their own 'rules' and way of viewing the world. And I've gotten pretty good at figuring things out with him."

"Yeah," Cal says. "But I still do quite a lot, don't forget. This one is even more important. These droppers are extremely important. While I didn't know what Greyson was actually doing with his meditation baths until yesterday, one thing I did know is what led to the two-hour rule. If he's in it for two and a half hours unbroken, he will be loopy for the rest of the day, and sometimes the day after. And he likes to do the baths two or three times a week. A loopy Greyson is a weird Greyson-"

"He's always weird," Henry says. "And such a brat."

"Says the brat."

"Both of you, stop," Papa says. "Henry, stay out of it."

"But-"

"No," Papa firmly says. "Do you want your grounding extended?"

Henry huffs.

"Anyway," Cal says. "A loopy Greyson is a weird Greyson, and you really don't want to see what he does while he's loopy. Plus, it'd kind of mess with his ability to take the tests."

"I don't do anything weird while I am loopy," I say.

"You do a lot of weird things," Cal says, then looks at Dad. "Two hours is the limit because of that, and it messes with his head flow if you cut it short as that's what he's used to. And make sure to use the drops. I just thought it was him being him, but they're apparently really important for him to stop safely. If he doesn't control his exit, it creates a massive backlash and gives him a nasty headache."

Something he learned the hard way yesterday, though I was nice enough not to do it back to him in revenge. He even rewarded with me a sucker for that!

"Okay," Dad pockets the vial. "I know it's the first time we're taking him on a trip, Cal, but we'll be fine."

"This is Greyson we're talking about," Cal says. "A boy who's both Autistic and a super genius and probably something else we don't know. The past eight months isn't really much for learning about him and his nuances. It's in the binder, but when you're at the school, make absolutely sure he knows where he's supposed to go for everything. See if there can be a guide to lead him around at first. It'll create a more stable structure in his mind, allowing him to handle it more easily. And remember, he'll need a quiet place to go if he gets overwhelmed, and-"

"Cal," Dad says. "We'll be fine. I've already spoken to the academy, and we'll be going in today to look around so he can learn where he'll be taking his tests at over the next couple of weeks. And he's not a fully unique case to them, some of their other students are Autistic, and some of them have needed an aide to go with them from class to class or test to test. They arranged for that with Greyson when I told them it might be necessary for the testing, and we'll be meeting him this afternoon."

"Alright," Cal says. "And sorry, I'm just… worried. There's so much when it comes to dealing with his disability… and this is the first time we'll be separated in his entire life… I'm just so worried, Dad."

"I know," Dad reaches out and gives him a half hug. "We'll be fine, and I'm sure Greyson appreciates you wanting to make sure that he'll have an easier time and accommodations are made as needed. Aren't you, Greyson?"

"Cal always wants to make sure I'm okay," I say. "I'm always appreciative of that, so I don't see the need to say it. He should just know."

"And how can he know if you don't tell him?"

"But I have told him."

"I know you can take being told your help is appreciated once and accept that it's a permanent view unless told otherwise," Dad says. "But most people don't, Greyson. It's a good idea to make sure they know you still appreciate their help and care."

And they call me the weird one.

"What are you making?" Cal asks. "You were fiddling with that yesterday, too."

"An attempt at making a miniature hoverboard prototype," I answer. "Xander apparently made an actual one yesterday, but he only made one, which is weird. He usually does things in threes. Though I guess he did only make one AR set, too. Anyway, since he only made one, that means there's not one for me. He also didn't even log any of his notes on it and destroyed the previous versions, so I have no idea how he managed it. I'm trying to figure out how he got it working but even a peek at the notes and research of others who've worked on hoverboards and even got semi-functional versions working wasn't helpful."

"Greyson… "

"Yes?"

"You hacked research again?"

"I never said that."

Xander keeping all of his notes in his head makes it a pain for me to recreate his stuff. It's why I struggle with his first puzzle sphere so much, since I can't just take a peek at his notes and see what the algorithm is. Even though it's ridiculously complex, I'm sure I'd be able to adapt and keep track of the key as it changes.

With the hoverboard… I get the feeling Xander figured out entirely new runes and that's how he was able to make a proper functional hoverboard. That's just for if he limited himself to his mortal side and not his godly side, too.

"How's the project coming?" Cal asks.

"As a complete and absolute failure," I answer. "Xander is truly on another level when it comes to magitech he's interested in. I've spent more total time when adding in my acceleration magic than he did based on the temporal energies I detected at the secret base yet have failed to make a miniature version capable of traveling more than a few feet before the magitech fails. Even the best existing ones can't travel very far, and can only do one trip. They also burn a ridiculous amount of mana to power as well, adding in another hurdle. That's why I took a peek at the research of others, which I used to improve this. Yet Xander's was fully functional and suitable for riding around town, and I know he only used the information I had at the secret base."

That's the difference between a god doing something and a mere mortal like myself. I might not be able to understand a lot of stuff – including about emotions – no matter how hard I try due to my Autism, but I know that what I'm feeling right now is jealousy and envy. He's so skilled… I'll never be able to reach that level, I'm sure of it. But I wish I could.

"Sadly," I say. "I must await my return from the testing in order to learn from him how he managed to craft his hoverboard. Why then and not during next weekend? Because I have no doubt that Xander will be reluctant to reveal his secrets and therefore will require more time to convince to share them."

"Alright," Cal snorts. "Did you get your suitcase packed all the way?"

While I could just stick everything into my backpack, that's not how it's supposed to be for trips. A trip means traveling, and that means using a suitcase. Dad even took me to the store to buy me one when I asked yesterday. I was going to go on my own, but Dad wanted to go with me for it for some reason.

"I did."

"Can I go through it to make sure?"

"No."

"And if you forgot something?"

"I'll just teleport back to grab it."

"Greyson…" Cal has a slight scolding tone to his voice.

"You can check it…"

Cal grabs my suitcase and lies it down, then opens it up and looks through it. I watch him closely to make sure everything is put back where it belongs, and he doesn't mess it up. He opens up the smaller bag that's inside to check the toiletries as well, then raises an eyebrow when he finds the small bottle of laundry detergent.

"It's good for two loads," I tell him. "Or one really dirty load. I wanted to make sure we can use the right stuff."

"Dad already packed some," Cal says. "I think. Dad?"

"I did," Dad says. "And you don't need to bring your bottles of body wash and shampoo, Greyson."

"I am not using what is provided there," I say. "It might not be of good suitable quality. I have sensitive skin."

"What I mean," Dad says. "Is I packed some for us. Your papa likes it, too, remember? I filled smaller bottles with some of it. Enough for both of us."

"Papa likes the mint scent."

Even though it's faint, I can smell it from here despite Papa being twenty feet away. My nose is really good.

"He's also got the fruity scents," Dad tells me. "He doesn't use them as often, but he does have them. I took the coconut and zromelk butter ones, since that's your current bottles."

"Oh," I teleport my shampoo and conditioner back to where I store them.

"Why do you have two toothbrushes?" Cal asks.

"In case I need to replace one," I answer. "Even if I sanitize it with magic, it won't change the grossness of using a toothbrush that got dropped."

"Fair enough," he zips the smaller bag back up and sets it back into the suitcase. "You did forget stuff, by the way."

"I did?" I run through a mental checklist of everything. "No, I got everything."

"You probably didn't put it on your checklist," he says. "Your training clothes and a pair of swim trunks."

"It appears I have forgotten things."

I put away the stuff I was tinkering with, then teleport to my bedroom to pick out the workout clothes and swim trunks I'll be taking with me for the trip. Once they're selected, I return to the living room and rearrange my suitcase so that the new items are in the appropriate spots.

"Okay," I say after zipping my suitcase back up. "There. That should be everything."

"Then it's time for us to go," Dad says. "Say goodbye to everyone."

"Bye Cal! Bye Papa! Bye Travis!"

They all tell me goodbye, and Papa and Dad kiss, then Dad and I put our luggage into the car, get into it, and he starts driving. Once we're on the interstate, Dad lets me pick what music I want to listen to, and the two of us sing to the song I put on.

"There are muffins with guns marchin' right down the street, looking for demons who need to get beat. Workin' with them are the muffin mages, wieldin' the knowledge of a thousand sages. With healer muffins followin' right along, the grenadier muffins won't take long. These forces combined will claim their vic'try, for they are the final muffin army!"

"Muffin! Muffin! Muffin! Yeah!" I do small fist pumps into the air.

"That's not a part of the song," Dad chuckles.

"How would you know?"

"Because you watch that show at least twice a week nearly every week," he snorts. "I still want to know how the muffins came to life."

"You're not supposed to question it," I say. "Suspension of disbelief, Dad."

"Sure, sure," he says. "So theoretically, if muffins could become an army like in that cartoon, how would it happen?"

Dad and I discuss how it would happen. He doesn't really know much about magic, but he can still hold a good conversation anyway. Even if not a smart one. It's okay, though, since he's still really cool and he's at least not being dumb. I think he's mostly just wanting to pass the time.

After several hours of discussions, singing, and eating snacks I brought, we arrive at the academy. Dad decided to take us straight there rather than stop at the B&B first. It's a massive facility with an immense amount of magical wards placed on it. They have several buildings, and even a wall surrounding the property.

Also an anti-teleport ward I'm pretty sure is courtesy of Grandfather Adrian. I don't notice it until we've already passed through and are in the parking lot. That's extra-evil, if Grandfather Adrian managed to hide it from my examination.

"Dad, I don't wanna go."

"Why not?"

"Grandfather Adrian put an anti-teleport ward on it," I say. "That means I can't leave if I want to go home or to the secret base. I need to be able to leave."

At least at Grandfather Adrian's, I knew I was going to be leaving again since I was confident he'd let me. This place… I'm not sure. It's got to be a trap, I'm sure of it. There weren't any signs that they were a part of the Faction and I doubt Grandfather Adrian would run a place that's part of it, but they could be doing something shady without his knowledge.

"They said you'll have permission to leave after the first month," he tells me. "Remember? And I'm sure you'll find plenty of stuff to do here to fill the time. A month will be over in no time at all."

"Not going! Not going!"

Not to a place with such an evil ward! It's bad! It's bad!

"This is the only place which can really teach you," Dad says. "Come on, Greyson. Let's go inside so you can see it."

"No, no, no, no!"

"Greyson-"

"NO NO NO NO!"

"Let's-"

It's too much. It's too much. I start screaming. I need to scream. There's too much. I can't go here! I can't go here! It's evil! It's evil! This is wrong. This is wrong. It's all wrong.

Something touches my lap. I'm about to make it explode but register it with my other senses in time not to. My scream stops as I open my eyes and I look at the small container Dad put on my lap. It's full of hard candies.

Not just any hard candies, though. They're all stars and they smell good. These are the ones Cal makes. I try to replicate them every now and then, but I don't know what I'm doing wrong when I do. They never taste as good as his despite me using the exact same recipe.

He almost never makes them, though. Dad found some? In the car? When did Cal put them here? Cal hasn't even made them since before we moved out of the trailer and in with Dad and Papa, though, so they shouldn't have been here. I already ate all of the ones from the last batch a long time ago.

My hands are trembling as I open the container and pull out one of the green stars, then pop it into my mouth and let it slowly dissolve. It's strawberry-flavored, as always for the green ones. It takes a couple of minutes to dissolve away and once it does, I pop a purple one into my mouth. Blueberry. A creamy-orange one is next. Peach. Then yellow. Lemon.

"Are you feeling a little more calm?" Dad softly asks as I pop another strawberry candy into my mouth, and I nod. "Alright. One of the purposes for today's visit is to discuss possible accommodations for you, Greyson. The actual IEP – Individualized Education Plan – will be created later in the week, but we'll be talking with them about some accommodations necessary due to your disability. We can bring up how the anti-teleport ward affects you and see if they might lighten up the rule about leaving the academy grounds for the first month.

"That rule is only for new students," he continues. "Since most have never been away from their families for an extended time before. If they're able to contact their families or see things outside of the academy, it might increase their homesickness and make them want to leave more. It's meant to help them adjust to the academy. But we can ask them if it's possible to exempt you from that, especially since the best place for you when you're having one of your more severe meltdowns or panic attacks is your secret base. Are you okay with going in and asking about that?"

I nod.

"Alright," he reaches across me and unbuckles me, then slips a pair of sunglasses onto my face. They're mine, but not the ones from my suitcase. "Come on, Greyson."

I pop another star-shaped candy into my mouth and get out of the car, keeping the container in my hands.

"Is he okay?" A familiar voice asks. "I heard him screaming and… is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine," Dad responds as I try to figure out how I know that voice. I heard it recently, I'm sure of it. "Greyson has Autism, and some things can cause him to have a meltdown due to overload. He's sensitive to magic and can feel the enchantments on this place, and adding into that a new situation and just the wrong thought… he's fine now, though he'll probably be nonverbal and will avoid looking at people directly for awhile."

"Oh, okay," the other person says. He really sounds familiar. "You said his name is Greyson? Wait. Oh! Greyson!"

Loud! Loud! Too loud!

"Would you mind keeping your volume a little lower?" Dad asks. "He's extra sensitive to sensory inputs while calming down from an attack. It's why he's wearing sunglasses, too."

"Oh," the other boy's voice is quieter now. "Hi again, Greyson."

Another star candy goes into the mouth.

"Do you know him?" Dad asks.

"Kind of," the other boy answers. "I meet him at the Interception Day fair back home. But your license plate's from, uh, a lot closer to here than Nezairik."

"Greyson teleports as easily as some kids eat candy," Dad tells him.

A kid at an Interception Day fair? In Nezairik, too. There's only one kid I really "met" at that, and this boy's voice does sound like his. It's Cody, then. Yeah, his mind feels like Cody's for sure, now that I'm thinking about it.

"That's really cool," Cody tells Dad. "Is he going to attend the academy? I've been coming here for years. They told me that-"

"Volume," a man's voice softly says. "Remember what he said? You were going back to normal and Greyson flinched."

That's his dad's voice and mind, right?

"Sorry," Cody whispers. "They asked if we'd be willing to come a week earlier than the retesting to show a new kid around for the tests. I'm betting that's him, if you guys are getting here at this time."

"Someone's supposed to be helping us with that, yeah," Dad says. "We should check in at the office first to make sure, though."

"Okay," Cody whispers as he steps closer to me. "Hey, Greyson? Did your brother like the stuffed octopus you won for him?"

I nod.

"That's awesome," he whispers. "Come on! You're gonna love the academy. It's owned by Adrian King and he makes sure it only has the best, and there's so much here!"