Do You Believe in Magic?

"Yeah, but your logic is flawed. Aren't Fae supposed to have pointed ears or something? I have round ears, like every other human," Adella retorted, moving her hair to show her human ears using a tone of voice that was trying to mimic a scientist or inventor, "I am perfectly human just like the rest of you,"

"Yeah, you're about as human as a Mermaid," Clara retorted with a laugh, "You also never get cold! Which I hate. Isn't that right Jeremiah? And Adella has never gotten sick!"

"Hey! You're not helping," Adella retorted. Clara stuck her tongue out at Adella before running off to play with Peter again.
 
"Ah-ha!" Jeremiah crowed, sticking his finger in the air. "Undeniable proof!" He grinned at her triumphantly as he drew up one knee to his chest. "Not getting cold? Not getting sick? Surely there is something amiss! A Fae has magic, and making yourself look different is not so hard, even without magic! All we have to do is break the illusion!" He reached out for Adella's ear and started trying to grab it and fondle it.
 
Adella shook her head, but she had a giant grin on her face. It was in moments like this, where life seemed too normal. Where maybe she had found happiness here in this New World full of strange new places, and people. People like Jeremiah.

"Well, maybe I'm just a superior human or something. Stronger than the rest of you," she replied right before Jeremiah leaned over to reach for her ear, to try and break the "illusion" Adella squealed, laughing uncontrollably as she tried to swat his hands away, "I'm human! I swear!" she shouted between the laughter, squealing as she flared her arms around, her eyes closed from laughing so hard.
 
Jeremiah couldn't help laughing as well as he tried to avoid her swats and still grab her ears. "A superior human? Really? Then tell me your secrets not-Fae!" he teased. He nearly managed to get her ear but had to draw back or risk getting pummeled by her wild swings. "Alright! Alright, I yield. You are most definitely not a Fae!" he said, laughing deeply.

It was good to see her laugh and enjoy herself. When she and her family had first arrived, she had seemed... almost sour. Like she couldn't remember what it was like to have fun, and it did not help that he was the only one around close to her age, a boy, and nearly as opposite as one could get. It was hard to believe that he'd once been a thin, gangly thing with eyes nearly the size of dinner plates. He remembered asking his father if an angel had moved in next door Adella's hair had so transfixed him, and his father had laughed for the first time in months! Such little scrappers they had once been. He thought they'd both filled out rather well as they aged.
 
When he stopped trying to grab for her ears, she stopped wildly flinging her arms around and opened her eyes to see he had inched closer to her in the attempt to grab her ears. She put a hand behind her for support, a deep red blush forming across her cheeks. He was staring at her, like he was looking right through her, to another time. She could tell his mind was elsewhere, but she didn't know where. But his brown eyes glimmered at whatever thought was running through his mind. Pink tinged the outside of Adella's vision. It was that glow again that she'd see randomly around certain people at certain times.

"Uh, Jeremiah," Adella whispered, that stupid blush still plastered on her cheeks, as she heard her sister giggle from where her and Peter were playing, "You're staring,"
 
"Eh?" he blinked. "Oh, right, sorry." He leaned back and flopped back into place a decent space away from her. "I was thinking about something else, some time ago," he admitted, not even noticing her blush. He stretched mightily, muscles rippling along his body as he did so. He looked more fit to be a blacksmith than a writer of other people's words. "Do you ever think much about when you got here?"
 
Adella still had that blush on her cheeks as she sat up straight again when Jeremiah moved a normal distance away from her again. She ran her hands down her dress to straighten out the fabric when he asked about if she thought about when she moved her. Her hands paused mid straighten and she nodded her head, her eyes on her hands in her lap.

"Yeah. I do, howcome?" she asked, raising her eyes to look at Jeremiah again.
 
He shrugged. "Just thinking about it, that's all. Seems like ages ago and yesterday at the same time. You settled in well!"
 
"You think about it too then huh?" she asked, looking up at the skies that were now suddenly growing dark with storm clouds. And not the fun kind of clouds either. This storm was going to bring heavy rain, and wind. "You know, I still don't know why my dad moved us here.." she paused and turned to Jeremiah, "A small part of me thinks he might be running from something. And that thought terrifies me,"
 
Jeremiah shrugged. "Maybe he's trying to run away from something, or maybe he's trying to run toward something. Like new memories or a better life or at least a different one. Maybe he's trying to give you something he never had that he thinks you need, or maybe some nightmare haunts him and he thinks changing location will change it."

He looked up at the clouds then grabbed his bag and stood. "Come on. Your magic storm-seeker powers were right again. Clara! Peter! Time to go!"
 
She frowned with Jeremiah's thoughts on why her dad moved them to a whole new world basically and sighed. Yeah. For some reason, it didn't help settle her unsettled feeling in her stomach.

She laughed again when Jeremiah called her a magic storm-seeker and held up a hand for some assistance standing up. Her legs had gone numb from sitting so long. She grabbed her satchel with her free hand as the two children ran over to their older siblings.

"Aw, but we were just getting to the good part!" Clara complained, stomping a foot in the ground and crossing her arms over her chest.
 
Jeremiah helped Adella stand and supported her while she found her feet.

"Yeah! Sir Lancelot is about to challenge King Arthur for Gwenevire's hand in marriage!" Peter protested.

Jeremiah raised a brow at Peter. "Oh, really, then? Well, how about just as Sir Lancelot was about the challenge the king... A Mighty Dragon swoops in and steals their lady love!" Jeremiah dove at Clara and scooped her up, placing her over his shoulder as he ran off crowing, "Ah-ha! A princess for me!"

"Hey! That's not how it goes!" Peter yelled, chasing after him.
 
Adella laughed at Peter's visible upset, "marriage huh? I don't suppose Clara was playing the part of Gwenevire?" Adella asked, in a teasing tone as Jeremiah offered the ulternate route to their story that would get all of them home faster.

Clara screamed, squealing for Sir Lancelot to save her from the dragon that had just appeared and Adella nudged Peter to coax him to go chase after them, "So what if it's not part of the real story? You better go save Gwenevire, and fast before the dragon gets too far away!" Adella told him laughing as he went chasing after his older brother who was running off with Clara.

Adella followed behind at her own casual pace until the skies started to open up on them. It started off as a small drizzle, "Hey, we might wanna pick up the pace!" Adella yelled up to the three who were still acting out the dragon scene. A moment later, a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder had Adella picking up her own pace, "Let's get back, it's gonna start getting bad!" Adella yelled as a gust of wind blew her hair into her face.
 
"That certainly came up fast. Unnaturally fast," Jeremiah remarked, frowning. He wasn't teasing now. He set Clara down and took her hand, catching Peter's hand with his other. "Come on! I bet there will be soup waiting for us! Or maybe stew or something warm!" He started moving as fast as the two younger children's legs could manage.
 
"You know, I've been noticing these storms move in rather quickly in the New World, compared to France anyways," Adella replied, trying to shield herself from the pelting rain, "Ugh we soaked!" she screamed as her wet hair clung to her face.

Thankfully, it only took them a few more minutes to get back to the fort. Adella grabbed Clara's hand, "Thanks for playing with us today, Jeremiah, Peter, but I think this is where we shall part ways till next time,"

"Aw, we're going home?" Clara asked, with a small frown, "Bye Peter," she said, sadly waving to her friend.
 
"Not this fast," Jeremiah grumbled as they hurried through the rain to the fort.

"Bye, Clara!" Peter called mournfully, waving back at her.

"Be safe," Jeremiah told Adella with a lopsided smile. He turned and led Peter back toward the small house on the wall they called home.
 
Adella gave Jeremiah a genuine smile and nodded, "You too," she told him before running for their home which was a little further into the fort.

When they got home, both of their parents were home and Mom had the fireplace going with a nice warm fire to warm their tiny house. Their house was small, With only one seperate room from their main living area where they all slept.

"Man, this storm is a big one," her dad commented as their mom ushered them to the fire place to dry off. Dad had placed a bucket in the center of their room where they had a tiny leak in their roof.

"Maybe after this storm, you can finally repair the roof," their mom scolded with a smile.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at their door.

"Who would be visiting during this storm?" Their father murmured as he answered it.

Behind the door was the husband of a young woman named Elizabeth. They were newly weds, and Elizabeth was pregnant with their first child.

"Please, my wife, she's in labor!" he exclaimed, sounding airy and tired like he ran all the way to their house, which he probably did.

"Oh, what poor timing," her mom replied, standing up from her chair she was sitting on, "Don't worry, I'll be over in a moment,"

Ever since their old doctor left the fort to move to a larger settlement, Adella's mom had done the best she could to fulfill that role.

"I'm sorry dear, I'll be home soon," she told Adella's father before grabbing an overcoat and leaving their house to help Elizabeth.

A few minutes after, Clara gasped, and stood up, tears brimming her blue eyes, "Father! I forgot Molly! She's in the woods!"

Molly, Clara's only and favorite doll.

"I'm sorry Clara, I know how much Molly meant to you, but we can't go get her now," her father told Clara gently as there was anothe knock at the door. Her father answered it again.

"It's the dam, it's breaking! We need to repair it," the man behind the door was telling her father.

"Gather all the men, have you called on Mr. Scriv? And Mr. Johnson? I know the last time the dam was damaged, they were the ones who thought of a way to repair it. We'll need them again," her father was saying as he grabbed his own overcoat, "I'm sorry Adella, but please, watch your sister," her father told her before running out into the rain.
 
Jeremiah was in the process of getting food on the table for himself and his three younger brothers when a pounding on the door made their old grey dog bark. He didn't bother to take off his inappropriately flowery apron as he hurried to the door and opened it to a torrent of rain and words. Amid the chaos, he made out that the dam up the river was beginning to give way yet again.

He growled in annoyance and nodded. He stepped back inside. "Dad!" he yelled into the tiny work room where his father still sat at the slanted podium-like desk working away. "Dad, all hands are needed to fix the dam!"

Mr. Scriv scowled and set aside his quill. "Again? They don't make dams like they used to!" A small, thin, balding man, he looked almost exactly like his three younger sons, especially Peter, but with lines and narrowed eyes that spoke of a life of vague dissatisfaction rather than the wide-eyed wonder of his son.

"Right, Dad," Jeremiah said calmly, grabbing both of their rain slickers. "Oi! Jakob! Keep an eye on these two and do your chorse while we're gone!" He took off his apron, donned his slicker, and stepped out into the rain with his father.
 
It was silent in the house with both of Adella's parents gone, and Clara pouting in the other room over her doll... Actually, now that Adella thought about it, it was too quiet.

She ran into the other room, and came up short when she saw the room was empty, and the window was pushed open. Rain was pouring in, soaking their bedding.

"Oh good God," Adella muttered, running over to the window shutting it.

Clara had snuck out! Adella paced for a few minutes, trying to think of where that child thought she was going in this storm. Lightning flashed in the distance, and a tree branch broke in the wind, slamming itself against the closed window making Adella jump. Clara could get seriously hurt in this... Even worse...

"She went to go get Molly," Adella whispered, panic rising in her stomach like the storm that was raging outself.

Adella grabbed what protection from the elements she could find, which happened to be a blanket, and ran out into the cold storm. Even though the cold didn't touch her, the wind and the other elements did as she ran as fast as she could towards the clearing where Clara must have left Molly. All of the men were fighting right now to repair the dam. But, if they weren't successful, the woods surrounding the fort would be flooded... And Clara-Clara would-Adella stopped that train of thought.

No. She had to have confidence in the men, she just had to concentrate on finding Clara.
 
Mr. Scriv stood off to one side buried in his rain slicker and looking a bit like a very pointy brown mushroom as he stood scowling at at the breaking dam and studying it. As he was a small man, weak in constitution, and needing to protect his hands for his job, he was not actually down in the trenches manhandling the logs and clay. Instead, he stood back where he could see and shouted down suggestions and warnings to the workers wading through the water and fighting against the push of the river.

One of those workers was Jeremiah. His height was coming in real handy among the dam builders. He put his shoulder into the heavy logs near the top of the dam and heaved with all his strength, shoving it up into a more upright position. Other men scrambled around him to put up securing logs. Others scrambled around to pack the dam with clay and mud, trying to stem the flow of the water as it poked hole after hole in the dam.

Jeremiah could hear his father's voice over the howl of the wind despite its reediness. "Mr. Johnson, didn't I tell you to add more stakes to support the dam for just this occasion? If you had properly staked this dam to begin with, we would not be having this problem!"

Jeremiah could not help smirking. His father had brought up the stakes a lot.
 
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