He did. He hoped she would let it go but knew she wouldn’t.

"Of course you do, you were the one who started it. It’s like this every week, you deliver me his bull like a skinny pigeon with a fetish and expect me to be on the edge of my chair! You’re not smart, I see you trying to manipulate me. Your Ba isn’t subtle, after all the time I’ve given you to practice concealing it.” When her glass was emptied, she reached for a bottle in a bucket of ice on an end table. Mom liked her gin straight, dropping in a couple of ice cubes but nothing else. “It’s not you that’s making me calm, by the way. It’s my only love, here in my hand. One day you’ll understand your father can’t do shit for you. No-one can, except for me, of course.”

On Monday, Mom dropped him off at school because she lived a couple towns over but said that he was taking his bike as soon as the weather warmed up. In the afternoon, Dad picked him up, which he sometimes did. "Hey.” He was irked today, and Kerry wondered how much longer it would be until he’d be told why.

"Hey." Neutral, not pressuring.

"What, no 'good to see you again?'"

Wrong move. "It's good to be home."

Dad huffed but said nothing else until they reached the back road, where he turned on the radio. It was a rock station, Dad liked classic rock, evidenced by the way he rhythmically tapped the steering wheel and hummed along with the guitar. "Your Khet was out, just now." He said on the third stanza of a Bruce Springsteen song. "You're paranoid, loosen up. You never had good taste in music anyway, but you could at least appreciate the real artists when you hear them."

Kerry nodded and pretended to care about the radio. It was better than hearing about company issues and side-jobs.

They went about ten minutes, the silence ending by the time they reached the bridge crossing the mountain river. As they drove, the radio signal grew weak and staticky. "I used to be in a band, once. My father never cared much for it. I know I say this a lot, but if I had the chance, I would have made millions. Not from this old, shoddy company, hand-me-downs from what's now a pile of olive fossils. I would be living my own dreams, chasing the wind, riding a high that you can't ever compete with."

Kerry watched the trees rush by, close enough for him to reach out and grab a leaf. The feeling of separation, stabilization, a quick swipe.

Dad smacked the back of his head, and Kerry dropped the leaf on the floor. "Pay attention when I'm talking to you, doesn't your mother ever teach you anything? That woman, there's a good reason she doesn't live here anymore. She's the one teaching you these bad manners, I bet. But at least you have me. You didn't even feel that, did you?" He smacked him again, harder this time. "You know, with you, I won. If it were up to me, I wouldn't let that woman taint you with her shoddy excuse for training. She didn't even take you out to practice, did she? No, she didn't. Be grateful you have me, Kerry. Someday, you’ll be great, and teach more great people, and it’ll all be because of me."

Merci sat on the end of the bed, eating a bowl of cereal and scowling at ENA. He was only mad because he had to drink cow’s milk, which was cold and flavorless. ENA gloated from her place in Mama's lap. "Baby." He grumbled, playing with his food.

ENA couldn't say anything, so she did a hand gesture instead. I D I O T.

He hid his hands under the table when he signed T I T S U C K E R.

She did a flourish with her hand sarcastically. B I G W O R D G E N I O U S

G E N I U S

She started to sign 'buttpirate' when Mama pushed her away. “That's all I can take. Get off, you freeloader.” She buttoned up her dress before stepping out of the room with a washcloth and a bar of soap, her little hooves softly tippa-tapping on the carpet. “Ena, be good for your Papa. Mercy, I’ll be right back.”

Today, ENA was going to be cured. Papa had rejoined them earlier, all dressed in red and bringing both breakfast and a very familiar bottle that ENA was happy to see. She enjoyed not the bitter taste but the warmth it gave. "Don't take all of it, that's too much." Papa said, wrenching the bottle out of ENA's tight grasp. "It's important that you listen to my instructions, and that your body defends itself. It can't do that if it's numb." When she reassured him of her willingness to comply, he handed her a white jumpsuit, plain and uninteresting. “This is a special occasion, so you should dress appropriately."

"What’s Ena defending herself from?" Merci asked, caring less about the suit. ENA listened, curious as well. Was she going to have to do a sport?

"You'll understand when it's your turn." So, it was a sport, damn it all.

"My turn? What do you mean 'my turn'? This about curing Ena’s spirits, right? What are you planning on doing?"

"Mercy." Papa took firm hold of Merci's shoulders, "You won't bother us anymore. You will see your sister when she's finished her initiation and not a second before then. You will be satisfied with this."

ENA expected Merci to keep arguing. Instead, he just nodded and returned to his soggy cereal. He became so invested in it that he missed her waving when Papa took her out of the room. Maybe he finally figured out the merits of avoiding arguments, which was a nice precursor to what will probably be a boring one-on-one soccer game. She’d rather practice with the rifle, even.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Papa started to explain himself. "He won't be able to understand what's going on. I was there for my little brother’s initiation, but that was different. Regardless, you are my daughter, and it’s about time I taught you a very valuable lesson. Before we begin, I want to say that I understand if you're afraid. It's natural for someone with no preparation, which I admit is my fault entirely for keeping you so sheltered. It's my mistake that you succumb too easily to your emotions, which is why I'm now going to make up for it. If it's for you, I'd do anything."

So, curling.

They descended a long staircase, leading to a door that opened into the Sheffield Manor’s backyard. The weather was perfect, and they walked leisurely down a stone pathway. In the sky was one bright sun over a lawn full of many plant species she had never seen before. Precisely placed trees with large trunks were surrounded at the base by bushes or flower beds. The grass was so fresh and green that it shone in the sunlight, unmarred by weeds or patches of dryness. They walked past a pool with a rock formation in the center and smooth, scaly creatures swimming in the glassy water, only disturbed by a little waterfall. There was a pen full of beagles baying loudly. Just past this, they walked into a grove of olive trees whose shade dappled their clothes.

"ENA, do you remember when King Berry was fighting against a crowd of insurgents planted by the enemy to weaken his army before the first rebel war?"

"King Berry was attending his third son’s birth while General de Corsica represented him in the war theater. Through him, King Berry's soul fought alongside his men when his body could not. His fighting spirit, his will to live and to succeed, joined de Corsica to sharpen his sword and strengthen his armor, and to keep his mortal soul from entering heaven while there was still a world below that needed him."

They stopped before a stone structure, a windowless one-room building of sizable length. There was no door, just an archway, inviting anyone in and anyone to see. No light entered this room, save from the archway. "Well said." He took her hand, and she allowed him to lead her inside the dark room.

In the center of the room was a lit furnace that Papa checked by opening up a little door in the front. While he stoked the flames inside, ENA gazed over and around. Where the ceiling and the walls met, there were little ropes bundling bunches of dried plants. “Ena, tell me, what's the strongest you've ever felt?" Papa took in his hand a long poker with an end so sharp she couldn’t see it. He dipped it in the fire until the end glowed red, then, he pulled it out and blew on it.

When she was little and Merci was in school, she often felt terribly lonely. Mama never invited other children to play. One day, ENA had looked outside and decided to follow her brother to school. She didn't know where it was, having never gone, but that didn't matter at the time. Mama was napping, Papa was at work. She easily opened the door and walked out.

She hadn't planned on the scorching heat. Within minutes, without water or cool air to breathe, she became dizzy and sick. She had only reached the end of the road when she had to stop. To the right was the road leading to the quarry. Crouched on the ground and feeling her stomach turning, she looked at the tall peak. The boulders formed shady crevasse that could provide respite from the deadly heat, and water to drink from spot were the dew gathered. Only, it was much too far for her to reach. She wondered if she would die there, baking on the ground, to never see her mother, but to provide a funeral in return, a thankless and spoiled action. It was this thinking that brought her home to rejoin her mother on the couch until the bus brought Merci back.

"I could have given up and died, blaming myself for my stupidity. But here I am now. I'm still not sure sometimes if that was the right answer or not, but not giving in to those voices that tell me that I should have just let myself go, I think that was the only moment I've ever had control."

She looked up at her Papa's face, his big, dark eyes. She smiled at him. He returned it.

He took the poker out of the fire and blew on it again. Sparks rolled off the end and onto the floor. “Can you move a little to the left? That’ll do it, thanks.”

She hadn't even felt it until she looked down and saw the pike buried in her belly. Her mind didn't register 'okay, so we've been impaled' quite right, unable to attribute the feeling of her insides conforming around the hot end of the poker to the poker itself. It was when it finally did make the connection that it really started to hurt and her thoughts became, 'we've been impaled! do something!'

Clenching her jaw to delay the rapidly increasing panic, urged on by the thick dampness on her back radiating from a particularly painful point, she reached out a hand and grabbed the poker, pulling it back out. Here, you misplaced this. Clearly, it's not supposed to be inside of me. It is? It was?

"Focus, Enakai. Don't lose focus. It will get worse, but you must not lose focus."

For some reason, this reassurance didn’t do the trick. In her chest was a heavy swelling, a blooming mold that choked up the hole left by the pike. She tried to imagine herself on the battlefield with de Corsica. A row of men lit the fuses of a dozen cannons and with a great boom, twelve massive, leaden balls hurdled towards the many rows of enemy soldiers. The cannonballs barreled through, taking out several men at once. One had a hole blown through his middle, the next lost an arm, the last, everything below the left knee. Every break, every tear, ENA could feel it on her own body, and could hear the screaming of her general's voice, commanding the rest of the uninjured men to "make ready!"

She stood up what was left of her, feeling all her insides falling out, leaving her as empty as a shelled nut.

"Present!"

All around her, the men brought up their muskets. She forgot her rifle but made as if she didn’t.

"-fire!-"

Fire! Yes, fire! It felt like being on fire, burning away to little flakes of ash, only to re-merge so that she could do it all over again.

Papa crouched down in front of her, angling her head so that she would look him in the face. "Tell me what you feel."

"It hurts." She hissed, grabbing a tight hold around her middle to keep from falling apart.

Standing up, he lined up the glowing red end of the poker with ENA's forehead, and with a simple flex, stuck it straight through. "Focus and get through it. It will get worse before it gets better."

She tried, she really did, but it was hard to pay much attention when it felt like she’d rather be a pile of dry dirt than a living, feeling being. She imagined the olive blossoms falling off the tree, the olives being picked and eaten. The hounds chasing a rabbit up and down the lawn, serenading it with a chorus of excitement and eagerness before an explosion of fur and blood signaled the end of a life.

She was on the sidewalk, burning in the heat, feeling the sun watching her with remorseless apathy as another one of those miserable creatures gave in to its power.

Only, she did not. The mighty sun drew back its rays, aghast by the nerve of that horrid little gnat that dared take another breath, and another, and another.

The hounds cried out in hunger, pacing the trunk of a tree as a squirrel sat on a branch and mocked them.

ENA looked up to her father past a curtain of static, hearing no words, nor thinking them, but feeling as alive as she'd never felt before.

Mama said that she cried often as a baby, a continually wretched existence for both. Mama would spend hours of every day pacing the same path in the house, tending to both the baby and young Merci. She looked down at her ungrateful child and whispered in her ears a quiet, peaceful song, until baby stopped screaming and Mama's voice gave out.

"I can see your Khet, Enakai. He is going to be your life partner, and your savior, should you be careless and get yourself into trouble."

"Pleased to meet you." Enakai said, refusing to open her eyes. It stopped hurting now, the previously intolerable pain having dulled into a low, buzzing feeling, rumbling just beneath her skin but unable to harm her any further.

“That was easier than I expected it to be. I'm proud of you." Feeling just a bit braver thanks to his encouragement, ENA looked up into his smiling face and couldn't help but be proud of herself, even if it still, albeit mildly, felt like burning all over.

"I'll sew you back up, and then we can begin the next trial. Come here, be a good child and lay down on the floor for me."

"Okay." Not so gracefully, she flopped down onto the dirt. Her body didn't have any feeling to it, but it was still undoubtedly silly looking. She stared at a point in the ceiling. "What was that all about anyway?"

Papa pulled a needle and thread from his pocket, licking the end of the thread before looping it in the eye of the needle. He bit off the other end, tying a little knot before stitching up the hole. "That was your first exposure to Khet training. I was about a year old, for mine. I had hot coals in my hands. It didn't work at first, but you're an exception, since you're not a full human. See, you've already got skill just through genetics! But you really should stop that crying. I learned not to cry by the time I was half your age."

"I'll try." She said, not aware that she was even crying. She didn't feel Mrs. Sad come out, or any of the others. Did 'Khet' have to do with that? Did Khet push them out of the way? What even was this guy? She didn’t see anyone new. She watched Papa pull on the thread with the needle and the hole in her belly closed up.

Papa then held up his arm, and to ENA's shock, he took out a pocket knife and flayed the skin right off. From his open arm dropped a very small container, and Papa smiled at it, even as the blood came dripping out of the open wound to make a puddle on the floor. With speed and precision, he took out another needle, threaded it, tied a knot at the end and stitched up the hole in his arm. ENA blinked, and the stitching was gone.

"Were you watching, Enakai? Did you see my Khet come out and aid me? He keeps me from experiencing the pain of a wound, and strengthens my body beyond normal human capacity, so that I may store things inside. He also helped heal me, like yours healed you. Look and see, if you want."

She really didn’t want to, but her curiosity was too much to keep her from taking a peek. Her clothes were stained, but the hole was gone, as if nothing had ever happened. Papa handed the little flask to ENA. "This will help you when we move on to the next part of your initiation, the soul. You have in your hands a blessed water that separates the soul and the body. It also leads to some clever techniques when you want someone dead. That would require severing the connection between the two, with a special kind of knife. Would you like to see the soul-cutting knife?"

ENA thought about it. "After you put my soul away."

"Reasonable." Papa said, taking his hand back out of yet another pocket. "Would you like something to eat? I believe I've spilled your breakfast on the floor. I have memorized a mostly-accurate map of the placement of human vital organs and arteries, but yours are peculiar, so I had to aim for your softer side and guess. It seems I am a good guesser." He said this with a pleased smile, clapping his hands together decisively. "Congratulations for me."

"Happy for you." ENA said. The numbness in her body had gone away and was replaced instead by a different kind of affect, one that she would liken to intoxication if her father wasn't there. Then again, what did it matter if father was there or not? "I feel drunk again. Did you slip me some booze while I was bleeding out?"

Papa's paper-thin smile didn't fade in the slightest. "No, but I can have some brought to us. Let's go have lunch, I'm hungry."

Mom stood at the window, looking at the empty driveway. The smoke from her cigarette lifted into the air, rolling against the ceiling before dissipating. The windows were open, lifting the white curtains just slightly, carrying in the soft scent of late spring to counter against the bitter stench of tobacco. Dad complained about her smoking before, so she smoked while he was out. "You wanted to go to the county fair, didn't you, Kerry? To see the ponies?"

"Yes Mom." The witch doctor had just left. Dad probably wouldn't be back until tomorrow or later. He hadn't taken a hit job, he liked to space those out.

The trouble was with Philippa, the baby. She had normal baby problems, like crying too much and refusing to eat sometimes. Kerry was put in charge of her when Mom had enough. That was his job anyway, to train his siblings. Dad, when Mom was pregnant, gave him a lesson about the duties of the oldest son in the family, that was, to be a surrogate parent when the real parents had to keep up with their jobs, both with the family business and outside activities. He did not have to be loving or doting, just firm and with a steady hand and no nonsense. Teach them practical skills like how to set simple traps, how to dress yourself, the proper way to load and unload rifles both manual and automatic, how to tell your position based on the sun.

Kerry often found himself at a loss with Pippa. When he first met her, she was small and red-faced, and had no hand-eye coordination whatsoever. He had to bring her with him for target practice in the woods, which was a pain when she wouldn't be quiet. On good days, he was given a reprieve from her incessant screaming to show her how to clean and skin a rabbit. She liked it when she could keep the animal fur.

That's what he thought she had when he looked into the crib. He saw the dark pelt and figured that Mom was mistaken, thinking she saw a creature eating her baby when it was really a hide. That was, until its big yellow eyes blinked at him, and its mouth showed off little, pointy teeth. He met eyes with the monster and promptly stabbed it, aiming for a killing blow. To his shock, Pippa seemed to have actually been watching him while he killed the rabbit. She took the knife out of her chest and threw it back at him, removing a hunk from his cheek. At this point, Dad intervened, reviewed the state of the monster, and patched it up. Kerry was sent to the corner for being jumpy and not evaluating all possible scenarios.

Human one moment, animal the next, usually when she got upset about something. When she was hungry, she'd howl, and they had to get rid of any family pets just to be safe. Everyone was given a pair of welding gloves and a heavy apron so they could hold her when she was colicky.

When Dad came home the next night, the fair was over. There was news coverage of it, at least. Kerry sat close to the television, watching the different breeds of horse and naming them before the bar faded in at the bottom of the screen. "It sure as shit didn't come from me!" Dad shouted angrily from the room over. Kerry put his ear to the speaker and turned the volume knob to the right just a touch. Pippa was sitting in a carseat, batting at a mobile above her head. "You could have at least gone for a human dick, you depraved semen-seeking she-devil."

Mom pulled out a handgun and aimed it at Dad's forehead. "Don't swear in front of the kids."

"You know I have you on the CCTV, I'll bring you to court."

There was a paused, and then laughter. Mom put the pistol back in the holster. "Do you want cake? I made some earlier."

"Yes, I was wondering when you'd offer."

Papa took a bite out a finger sandwich. ENA had some gazpacho and quiche, which she requested because the names were foreign and interesting. Gazpacho turned out to be cold soup and not that appetizing. The quiche was okay. They sat at a table in the garden, overlooking fifty acres of farmland. There was much more at the industrial lots. "I didn't bring you out here to talk about business, however." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. Sensing that he was about to start lecturing, ENA kept her focus on him while she ate quietly and listened. Papa seemed pleased with her attentive silence and started his seminar. "My grandfather had been young when we first discovered the power of the soul. It was when he had been tied down to a table by his enemy, a man named Herbert Eriksson. Grandfather had been shot over twenty times and had his legs amputated so he could not run away. Still, even without a breath of hope, my grandfather survived. He attributed his survival to an extraordinary feeling, one that he describes as not inhabiting his own body, but a piece of machinery. The more he leaned into this feeling, he felt stronger and less afraid, to the point where he lifted himself up off the table - those foolish captors thought he wouldn't need restraints due to having no legs - and beat their faces in. He died a month later, but his discovery allowed us to utilize the soul, all parts of it, to our advantage, so that we may never lose to our enemies again."

The quiche was no longer okay. "Papa, can I ask you something?"

"Ask as many questions as you want." He took a couple of teacakes and put them on his plate.

"Will I ever end up like your grandad?"

Papa paused mid-bite. "Never. I won't allow for it. Those are only scenarios for family members who wish to continue the family business, and all its responsibilities."

"Are you?"

For a moment, he didn't seem to know what to say. "No. I left the family to start my own. I wanted to be with you, your brother, and your mother."

"So, why am I learning Khet?"

When Papa was unable to look at her, ENA felt like she had wrestled a lion. "Because I feel as if I have to teach you."

"Why?"

"Because that's my duty as your father. Now stop asking silly questions."

"No. You're dedicated to your family, to the point where you'd jab me with a needle and stick a poker through my chest, but you say that your loyalty is to Mama and us. You even said that this trip was to fix me, but I don't feel any different. You've been mean, and that makes me sad, and it makes Merci and Mama sad. So, do you want to fix me and go home, or improve me and keep me here to be used like those hounds in the cage we saw?"

"Enakai." Papa sat back in his chair. He studied the look on ENA's face, and she waited for him to continue. "You really are a Nakamura, because looking into your eyes right now, I'm scared spitless." He started to smile. "It makes me excited. Well, Enakai? Show me then, how angry you are with me. Show me how much you hate me."

Just hearing it began to kill the fire. "Papa, I don't hate you. I just hate the things you're doing."

"Your Khet can be used offensively too, not just defensively. You can fight with it. You're strong, you're a Sheffield."

"I'm an An, or at the very least, like you said, a Nakamura. Your family has so much hatred in it. I don't want to keep it going." What angered her the most was that look of reverence in Papa's eyes, not even close to remorse or regret. "What's so interesting?"

"Your Ka. You're using your Ka. Even subconsciously, you hate me. That's good, keep that up and you'll surpass me yet."

She hardly even realized what she was doing, when she got up from the table and broke his jaw with a single, hard punch. Her own father, the man who raised her, was thrown to the ground without a fight, dripping red onto the concrete walkway. He started to laugh, and ENA, further enraged by the sound of his glee, went in for another blow, but found herself unable to move.

Staring into Papa's face was like staring at a creature with no soul, a monster who instead of echoing the feeling of a heart, of life, it gave back nothing but emptiness. "This is my Ka. Are you scared, Enakai? Do you feel helpless? Do you feel trapped, like an animal that's about to be eaten?"

She did. She hated it, but she did. "I'm not going to be afraid of you!"

"Then attack me, you idi-"

She lunged. He blocked. She threw a left hook. He blocked again. "What the Hell?!"

"Try harder, idiot."

Once more, with vigor, she pulled back her fist. It never made contact, her arm held still by someone stronger than she. ENA turned fast, fighting with everything she had in her. Her heart pounded, and the fear of death overpowered all her senses. She could feel herself resting in her grave already.

"Enakai! Open your eyes, look at me! Enakai!"

Merci, her brother came to save her! She did as he said, finding his face at once. Next to him was the young man in blue from last night's supper, who was the one who grabbed her arm. She was released only for Merci to take his place. "Relax, Mercy. She just got worked up. I haven't met a person yet who hasn’t wanted to break your father's face."

"Mister Kori, don't say that!" Merci pleaded, wrapped around ENA like a constrictor. It somehow hadn't stopped her from getting one more good swipe in at Papa, striking him across the face with what looked like a white ribbon, or an unusually fancy whip. Merci watched it too with a look of puzzlement. "How did you...?"

"That’s the soul, boy. Only those proficient in using their deepest strengths, have been granted access to the energy of your truest state of being, can both use and see them. It so happens that your sister's truest state is angry at your father. Which, again, I don't find any fault in. Still, Enakai, dial it back a bit, will you? He's hamburger if you keep it up." The man called Mister Kori leaned over, looking her in the face. ENA looked up at him from where she was laying back in her brother's lap. "That's it, settle down. It follows your willpower, mostly. Yours is a bit spicy, I've been told. But it's still Ka, so relax and it'll leave."

"Spicy?"

Mister Kori shrugged. "The Sheffields like to experiment with things. They're unique, let's say, and so are you. Everyone's soul has different strengths. Yours is more in the 'attack' than the 'defense,' I can tell that just by looking. Once you're done, we can take a break and come back with a clear head, alright?" As he talked, he reached into a leather sack and removed a cigar and a lighter. ENA watched him stick the end between his lips and snap the end of the lighter a couple few times, guarding the flame against the wind as he lit it up. After blowing out a puff of smoke and visibly relaxing, he said this, "I haven't been able to spend much time with you kids. I only got here because your brother saw you beating the snot out of your dad from a third floor window." He pointed up, and ENA looked up at the tall building and then to her brother. His mask was, as usual, unreadable, but she was sure he was some kind of disappointed. "You work yourselves out in the meantime."

While Mister Kori spoke to Papa, Merci leaned over and whispered, "What was that about, Enakai?"

She watched an ant walk by, leading the march to the spilled gazpacho and teacakes. She felt like warning them about how terrible cold soup was, not wanting the ants to be burdened with a ruined day over a poor choice of lunch. It seemed she didn't have to say anything outright, as when the thought came up clear in her mind, the ants scattered into the grass. Not another ant came back. "Not sure, really."

When Papa finally left under Mister Kori’s insistence, they got up from the ground, brushing the dust and dirt from their clothes. Mister Kori gave her a once-over, ENA jumping up and down a couple of times to prove that she was in good shape despite having been maimed an hour ago. He appeared to take this as an answer. There was a path leading around the farmland, so Mister Kori suggested taking one of the dogs for a run. ENA was just as happy to move on and was even allowed to change back into her school uniform before they left.

Merci was not so easily impressed and remained in a funk. "I still can't believe that he'd do that to you." He grumbled, petting a dog's head. This dog was a wolfhound, big and grey. On its collar was a bell that Merci played with while ENA pulled a dress over her head. "I always knew something was up with that bastard. I can't just leave this alone, ENA, you have to understand why!"

"I do." She said, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric before playing with her hair, trying to get it to fall flat over her shoulders. "I just don't think it's that big a deal. It didn't happen to you, so why are you upset? Besides, I got him back good, didn't I?"

"It's not about getting him back, ENA." He said, annoyed. "He shouldn't have done it, plain and simple."

"Oh, you and your technicalities. You've never even been in a fight, let alone won any, Merci. You're too good for that."

"Too good for what, shitferbrains?" Quick as a wink, he grabbed a glass of water and dumped it out over her head, tossing it out onto a short table before leaping out of the room, ENA charging after him with a war cry. The two zipped about the main sitting room, jumping over couches and ricocheting off chairs before finding their way out into the lawn. The wolfhound had started to chase them, frolicking with uncontained joy, bounding about them in excited circles. Merci, looking over his shoulder, laughed triumphantly when the dog pushed ENA over before he promptly spilled himself onto the ground by tripping over a sprinkler head. The way he flipped was hilarious, a somersault head over heels onto the cool grass. ENA panted heavily between her gales of laughter, cackling like an exotic bird. Before long, Merci was laughing too, and all was forgiven between the siblings.

Dad called them all to a family meeting, one night, while Philippa was asleep in her crib. He had a very serious look about him. Mom, this time, was not called up to lead the discussion alongside him, but instead took her place beside Kerry on the couch. They all knew what the meeting was about, so neither dared to interrupt when Father got to talking.

"The other companies have begun to speak about us. They say that we harbor a monster, and that your mom has taken a trip into the unknown to engage in depraved sexual acts with animals. While I don't deny this information, it is not good for the business. So, I have taken it upon myself to do some damage control. From this point onward, we're going to be doing a little bit of rebranding, let's say, reclaiming our damage. We aren't going to let this take over our lives. Instead, we're making a new one, a new narrative, something that will contain this accident until we can sort it out. From this point onward, you all are going to introduce yourselves under new names and pen your names legally otherwise.

We have become the relations of a frightening creature, to the public. So, then, let it be, that the girl be known as Loucara, the 'loup garou,' as the French put it. The wolf to be afraid of. From this point, I have no daughter named Philippa, but a mercy to a creature with no right to exist. You," He said, pointing to Mom, and Kerry couldn't stand to look at her pale face for more than a second, "are her mother, so from this point you will be known as the Mother of the Wolf, Loumere. I am the Father of the Wolf, Loupere. Kerry, you are Lumiere, the one who will give us light, and show this family's future heir the right path. None of you will have to worry anymore, for I have chosen a more suitable mother to my son, and Lumiere, I want you to raise him right.

I want you all to be happy with what you've got, and if you aren't happy, then you can leave this room and find a new one somewhere in Hell.

You can all leave, now."

Mister Kori brought them down the pathway, pointing out the different species of bird that they saw and heard, identifying edible plants, and explaining how to tell the difference between a blueberry and the poisonous nightshade. He answered all of ENA's questions about Khet and Ka, explaining that there was even a third and fourth component, Ba and Akh. Merci listened as well as he could, sometimes looking himself over as if he would find his own soul if he looked hard enough. "Ba is the heart, and the one that I think you're most attuned to, ENA. It's also my specialty. Ka is hard to get a control of in general, since it's the very essence of the soul, the core of what makes you, you. That's quite the ground to be messing with, but once you've got it down, it can be invaluable. Ba is just as close, I think. Your feelings, your relationships, those have strength too. If you love someone, or even hate them, Ba is going to translate that energy into something tangible. In fact, what you were using before, that was Ba. It took a moment to tell, really, because of how devilish it looked."

"Looked?" ENA asked, dropping the flower she was tearing apart.

"Not gonna lie kiddo, you looked downright monstrous. Horns, fangs, and evil eyes."

Merci looked between his uncle and his sister, walking backwards. "I always though that the heart was something that inspired peace, not fear."

"We can't all have good hearts, you know." She said, bending down to pick another flower and dissect it.

"I didn't mean it like that." Merci hung back, causing Mister Kori to stop walking as well. "It just sounds like it looked kind of scary."

"Your face looks kind of scary."

"Touché, carry on."

They kept walking, Mister Kori with a pleased look on his face. "When I was young, I talked just like that with your uncle before he disappeared. He was good company, for the short time I knew him."

Eager to move on from the current subject, ENA and Merci caught up with Mister Kori, hoping that he'd tell them the story of this disappeared relation. They were not disappointed.

"It was a big spectacle here for a while. It's been years, and there's been no trace of him, let alone any idea where he might have gone off to. I was the last one to see him in person. We were young, then. About your age, Enakai. Sometimes I wonder if he was able to grow up like I got the chance to. His parents wonder that too, of course, and every year on the day that he disappeared, we return to that place where I last saw him.

When we met, the first thing I knew about him, just by looking at the exhausted mutt on my doorstep late one summer night, was that he had an insatiable love of adventure and boundless determination to chase it. He spoke little of himself at first and didn't even state his name. Despite living alone at the time, I let him stay for the night, as he seemed urgent about hiding."

"From whom?" ENA asked.

"The Sheffields, you dope. They stabbed you, remember? Why probably tried to get him to do that Ka thing. I don't blame him for running away, then."

"It's a possibility that we've considered.' Said Mister Kori, interrupting the beginnings of a squabble when ENA grabbed a broken branch and wielded it like a club. "Like I said, he was secretive, and didn't even give me his name. He came into my life like a bolt of lightning, bright and beautiful, and gone in an instant, not without leaving a scorching mark in his wake. That would be your father, who came looking for him just the day after he left. This tall, dark, odd-looking man came looking for his ward named Loufrere, and it would be within my best interests to inform him of the whereabouts of his boy, lest I find myself in an unfortunate position for my health." He said this with a gesture of his hands, looking up at the sky and remembering exactly how that conversation went. "I told him that I had no idea where Loufrere had run away to, he was just here last night, but that's all I knew. He left with the stars in the morning of his own accord, just like he left the Sheffield Manor. Your father didn't believe me, and to prove that I was innocent, we looked for Loufrere together. It took days for your father to finally put an end to the chase, but believe me, he never stopped looking for his brother, and to this day I think he still looks for him."

"Ena, remember the pictures?" Merci said in a low voice, poking ENA's shoulder to get her attention. "He said that the only person he wanted to see was his brother, that little kid."

"That sounds like him." Mister Kori said to the inquisitive looks of Merci and ENA. "I moved in with the Sheffields for a little while, to try and get to the bottom of this mystery. I spoke with his parents, and quite easily came to the conclusion that you already have - the Sheffield home is, was, and always has been, an unbearable place to live. Your Aunt Loucara was quite poorly treated due to her being born out of an affair the previous Missus Sheffield had with a creature even we have no idea of. Their cousin, Arnou, was brought in to help out with running the company when your grandfather couldn't handle the stress of raising two families, killing contemporary companies competing with his own, and making olive oil, among other baking goods. He couldn't even bake properly. He knew his job, but was terrible in the home, which was why each and every kid who was born into it ended up messed up in the head.

It wasn't easy, but I got close to your father. He was very stubborn even then, and hardly enjoyed speaking with me, but after a while, I got through to him. I wasn't going to chase after Loufrere when he clearly didn't want to be found, so I focused instead on his brother. When I left the Sheffield home after a couple weeks of being a guest, I told your father to write to me once a year on that date, and I would do the same. This also took a couple years for him to warm up to. He always believed that building relationships was a waste of time."

"How did he meet Mom and have us if he didn't like writing to someone once every year?"

"A good question, and one easily answered. He met your mother while he was looking for your uncle. He went pretty far, and it took him a while to get back, maybe that was why he never wrote back to me. I wasn't there, so I don't know how that all went down, but I do know that when he got back, he said that he met someone that he could never forget and regretted leaving. He regretted it so much that he slept with a woman and got her pregnant. I had to find out when he came to my house, shoved a baby in my hands, and said 'take care of it, please, I don't know what to do.' I didn't take the baby, of course I didn't, I had my own shit to do. I wasn't going to take his accident and raise a kid that's going to eventually ask me who his daddy is, and I'm gonna have to say 'Lumiere Sheffield.' That's an abuse in some capacity, I'm sure. But I told him this - that lady you met, you go back to her, get yourself out of his life that you clearly don't want to be in if you're indulging in escapist fantasies, and raise that kid before you make any more accident children out of this damaging fraction your self-destructive distractions.

He actually took my advice, go figure. A little bit of it, anyway. He came back, turns out he just left the kid with his wife and came back. It's brainwashing, that's what it is. You hear about those who get out of the cult and realize how meaningful life is beyond the wall, but he's not one of those. He can feel the sun on his skin and still yearn for the comfort of the shade, because up until he got the sense in his skull to return to your mother, that was all he knew. It was what he grew up with, what was engrained in his soul. It's why he is the way he is. Of course, he's a massive prick, he knows that, you know that, I know that. And you can't not blame him, but still, there's a place where it comes from, and that place is called 'mom and dad.'

The reason he went back to your mother was because his Mom died, and it shook him so bad to imagine that even death could catch him - he thought of himself as having mastered the art of death but guess what egomaniac? I think that's when he had you, Enakai. He hasn't been back since, up until now, of course. Hey, where's he going?"

ENA and Mister Kori looked over their shoulders, where Merci had taken off running back down the pathway. "He's in a hurry."

"Should we follow him?"