Chapter Text
For nine months, Wemmbu stayed.
That was longer than some of his other stays.
Long enough that nobody in the house remembered what it had been like before he arrived.
Long enough that his things stopped looking like things he had brought with him and started looking like they belonged there.
His books were on the shelves.
His shoes were by the door.
His favorite cup had a permanent place at the table.
There was a dent in the couch where he always sat.
And, according to Ashswagg, there was a very important rule that absolutely everyone in the house had to follow.
“No stealing my snacks.”
Wemmbu looked up from the bag of snacks in his hands.
Ashswagg stared at him.
Wemmbu stared back.
Loppezz, sitting beside them, slowly covered her mouth.
Saparata looked over from the kitchen.
“What happened?”
Ashswagg pointed.
“He's stealing my snacks.”
Wemmbu frowned.
“They were in the kitchen.”
“They were mine.”
“They weren't labeled.”
“They were in my hiding place.”
Wemmbu looked confused.
“You hid food in the kitchen?”
Ashswagg's expression fell.
“I thought nobody would look there.”
Flux walked past them.
“You hid it in the kitchen.”
Ashswagg nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because nobody looks in the kitchen.”
Flux stared at him.
“The entire family spends most of their time in the kitchen.”
Ashswagg slowly looked around.
Wemmbu was still eating the snacks.
Loppezz was laughing.
Saparata was trying not to laugh.
Ashswagg sighed.
“Fine.”
He pointed at Wemmbu.
“But next time, ask.”
Wemmbu nodded.
“Okay.”
Ashswagg turned away.
Wemmbu looked at the bag.
Then at Ashswagg.
Then quietly held one out.
Ashswagg looked back.
“For me?”
Wemmbu nodded.
Ashswagg took it.
“Okay. You're forgiven.”
Loppezz shook her head.
“You're both ridiculous.”
Wemmbu smiled.
Ashswagg smiled.
And that was a normal morning.
Nothing special.
Nothing dramatic.
Just family.
There were other mornings.
Some were quieter.
Sometimes Wemmbu woke before everyone else and sat at the kitchen table with Saparata.
Saparata would be making breakfast while he swung his legs beneath the chair.
“You're awake early.”
“I couldn't sleep.”
“Nightmare?”
“No.”
“Hungry?”
Wemmbu considered.
“Maybe.”
Saparata smiled.
“Then you're definitely my son.”
Wemmbu smiled back.
He put something in front of him.
“Eat.”
He did.
After a few minutes, he looked up.
“Can I stay here forever?”
Saparata stopped.
The question had been casual.
Almost careless.
But something about it made him pause.
“You can stay as long as you want.”
Wemmbu nodded.
“Okay.”
Then he went back to eating.
Saparata turned back toward the stove.
He didn't ask what had made him think about leaving.
He didn't know that leaving was something Wemmbu had become very good at.
Ashswagg was different.
Ashswagg never asked him to stay.
He simply assumed he would.
“Wemmbu!”
“What?”
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“Secret mission.”
“Okay.”
Loppezz looked up.
“No.”
Ashswagg stopped.
“Why?”
“Because every time you say secret mission, something gets broken.”
“That's not true.”
“It happened yesterday.”
“That was an accident.”
“You climbed a roof.”
“It was part of the mission.”
“You fell through it.”
“That was also part of the mission.”
Wemmbu was already standing.
Loppezz pointed at him.
“Don't.”
Wemmbu froze.
Ashswagg whispered,
“Run.”
Wemmbu ran.
Loppezz sighed.
“Why do I even try?”
Flux laughed from the doorway.
“Because you love them.”
Loppezz looked at him.
“I do.”
She paused.
Then smiled.
“Unfortunately.”
The nine months went by without anyone noticing the exact moment they became family.
There was no ceremony.
No announcement.
No moment where someone said, *Now we're related.*
It simply happened.
Wemmbu stopped calling the house Ashswagg's house.
He called it home.
Loppezz stopped introducing herself as the girl who had found him.
She called herself his sister.
Ashswagg stopped saying Wemmbu had joined the mafia.
He just called him his little brother.
And Saparata and Flux stopped thinking of him as the strange dragon child who had arrived one afternoon.
He was their son.
Which was precisely why nobody took him seriously when he had his little meltdown.
It started over breakfast.
More specifically, it started because Ashswagg took the last piece of toast.
Wemmbu stared at the empty plate.
Then at Ashswagg.
Then at the toast in Ashswagg's hand.
“You took it.”
Ashswagg looked at the toast.
“Yes.”
“That was mine.”
“You weren't eating it.”
“I was going to.”
“You've been staring at your plate for five minutes.”
“I was thinking.”
“About toast?”
“Yes.”
Ashswagg shrugged.
“Too late.”
Wemmbu's eye twitched.
Loppezz looked up.
“Oh no.”
Saparata turned around.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Loppezz said.
Wemmbu pointed at Ashswagg.
“You ate my toast.”
Ashswagg took a bite.
“Yep.”
There was silence.
Wemmbu slowly stood.
“You know what?”
Ashswagg paused mid-chew.
“What?”
“I'm done.”
Loppezz blinked.
“With breakfast?”
“With **all of you.**”
Flux lowered his newspaper.
Saparata turned fully around.
Ashswagg swallowed.
“What?”
Wemmbu climbed down from his chair with as much dignity as a small dragon could possibly possess.
“I am leaving.”
Ashswagg stared at him.
Then burst out laughing.
Loppezz covered her face.
“Oh, he's doing the thing.”
“What thing?” Wemmbu demanded.
“The dramatic thing.”
“I'm not being dramatic.”
“You're standing on a chair.”
Wemmbu looked down.
He was, in fact, standing on the chair.
He climbed down.
“I am serious.”
Ashswagg was still laughing.
“Sure you are.”
“I am.”
“Where are you going?”
“Somewhere else.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
“That narrows it down.”
Wemmbu glared.
“You're all horrible.”
Saparata was trying very hard not to smile.
“Wemmbu.”
“No.”
“Sweetheart.”
“No.”
“You're angry because Ashswagg took your toast.”
“It is not about the toast!”
Everyone went quiet.
Wemmbu pointed dramatically around the room.
“It is about everything!”
Ashswagg whispered to Loppezz,
“It's definitely about the toast.”
“I know.”
Wemmbu marched upstairs.
A door slammed.
Ashswagg looked at everyone.
“Five minutes.”
Loppezz nodded.
“Ten, maybe.”
Saparata sighed.
“He'll calm down.”
Flux went back to his newspaper.
“He always does.”
Upstairs, drawers opened.
Something fell.
Then another thing.
Ashswagg looked toward the ceiling.
“What is he doing?”
Loppezz shrugged.
“Packing.”
Ashswagg laughed.
“No, he's not.”
Another drawer slammed.
A few minutes later, Wemmbu stomped back downstairs.
He had a bag over his shoulder.
Everyone stared.
Ashswagg snorted.
“Oh, you actually packed.”
“Yes.”
“You're still leaving?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Forever.”
Loppezz raised an eyebrow.
“Forever?”
“Yes.”
“You're eight.”
“I know.”
“You don't know what forever means.”
“I know enough.”
Ashswagg leaned back in his chair.
“Okay.”
Wemmbu looked offended.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.”
“That's it?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Stop me!”
Ashswagg blinked.
“Oh.”
Loppezz stared at him.
Wemmbu stared at all of them.
Nobody moved.
“You don't believe me.”
Saparata's expression softened.
“Wemmbu, we know you're upset.”
“I am not upset.”
“You're furious.”
“I am leaving.”
“Okay.”
Wemmbu looked betrayed.
“Fine!”
He marched toward the door.
Ashswagg called after him.
“Take a jacket!”
“I DON'T NEED ONE!”
“It's cold!”
“I DON'T CARE!”
“Take your food!”
“I DON'T WANT YOUR FOOD!”
Ashswagg paused.
“Okay, that's how I know he's serious.”
Loppezz elbowed him.
“Go after him.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he'll come back.”
Wemmbu yanked the door open.
“I AM NEVER COMING BACK!”
Ashswagg called after him.
“Okay!”
The door slammed.
Silence.
Everyone stared at it.
Three seconds passed.
Five.
Ten.
Ashswagg looked at the door.
“Five minutes.”
Loppezz crossed her arms.
“Ten.”
Saparata sighed.
“Give him fifteen.”
Flux turned a page.
“Twenty.”
They laughed.
They actually laughed.
Because this was Wemmbu.
Their Wemmbu.
He had stormed off before.
He had gotten angry before.
He had dramatically declared things before.
He always came back.
He would come back.
He had to.
That was the rule.
Flux eventually stood.
“I'll leave the door unlocked.”
Loppezz nodded.
Saparata quietly put the untouched toast on a plate.
“For when he comes back.”
Ashswagg looked at it.
“He's going to complain that it's cold.”
“He'll complain anyway.”
Loppezz smiled.
“He'll probably demand a new one.”
Ashswagg laughed.
“Definitely.”
Nobody went after him.
Nobody thought they needed to.
Nobody realized that this time, Wemmbu had meant it.
He didn't get very far before someone found him.
Two people, actually.
Parrot spotted him first.
He was flying beside Theo when he suddenly stopped.
Theo nearly crashed into him.
“What are you doing?”
Parrot pointed down.
“Wait.”
Theo looked.
A familiar little dragon was walking alone along the road.
Theo's eyes widened.
“No way.”
Parrot dropped altitude immediately.
“Wemmbu!”
Wemmbu looked up.
His expression changed.
“Parrot?”
Theo landed beside him a second later.
“You're alive!”
Wemmbu blinked.
“...Yeah?”
Theo grabbed his shoulders.
“Where have you been?!”
Wemmbu looked confused.
“Walking.”
“Walking?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
Wemmbu shrugged.
“I don't know.”
Theo stared at him.
Parrot landed beside them.
“We looked for you.”
Wemmbu looked down.
“Sorry.”
Theo's expression softened.
“You disappeared again.”
“I know.”
“Do you know how worried we were?”
Wemmbu nodded.
“A little.”
“A little?!”
Parrot laughed quietly.
“He's still Wemmbu.”
Theo looked at him.
“That is not comforting.”
Wemmbu looked between them.
“So...”
Parrot crouched.
“Yeah?”
“Can I come with you?”
Parrot didn't hesitate.
“Of course.”
Theo sighed.
“Obviously.”
Wemmbu smiled.
Neither of them asked where he'd been.
Neither of them knew there was anything to ask.
As far as they were concerned, Wemmbu had disappeared again.
And now they'd found him.
That was enough.
This time, Parrot and Theo knew Wemmbu better.
They knew he liked sleeping near people.
They knew he hated being cold.
They knew he would forget to eat if nobody reminded him.
They knew he liked flying.
They knew he was stubborn.
They knew he liked asking questions.
They knew that when he went quiet, something was usually wrong.
They had missed him.
And now they had him again.
For four months, they made up for the time they had lost.
Theo took him flying every morning.
Not because Wemmbu needed to learn.
Because Theo liked having someone beside him.
“Keep up.”
“I am.”
“You're behind.”
“You're fast.”
“Exactly.”
Wemmbu pushed harder.
His wings beat faster.
He caught up.
Theo looked over.
A grin appeared.
“There you go.”
Wemmbu grinned back.
They flew until Wemmbu was exhausted.
Then Theo let him land on his back.
Wemmbu collapsed between his wings.
“I’m tired.”
“I know.”
“You flew too fast.”
“You kept up.”
“Barely.”
Theo laughed.
“That sounds familiar.”
Parrot had quieter things.
He taught Wemmbu games.
He read with him.
He helped him practice writing.
Wemmbu sat beside him one afternoon, staring at a page.
“I don't know this word.”
Parrot leaned over.
“Which one?”
“That.”
“That's 'home.'”
Wemmbu looked at it.
“Home.”
“Yep.”
“How do you spell it?”
Parrot showed him.
Wemmbu copied it.
Then looked at the word again.
“What's home?”
Parrot hesitated.
“It's where you live.”
Wemmbu frowned.
“That's all?”
Parrot smiled.
“Not really.”
“What else?”
“It's where people are waiting for you.”
Wemmbu stared at the page.
Parrot watched him.
After a moment, Wemmbu smiled.
“Then I have one.”
Parrot smiled back.
“Yeah.”
He didn't know that Wemmbu had more than one.
He didn't know how many places Wemmbu had already called home.
He only knew that, for the moment, Wemmbu was sitting beside him.
And that was enough.
Their days filled up.
Breakfast together.
Flying.
Games.
Arguments.
Sleeping.
Then doing it all again.
Theo complained when Wemmbu stole his blankets.
Wemmbu complained when Theo stole them back.
Parrot laughed at both.
One evening, rain kept everyone inside.
Wemmbu sat beside Theo while Parrot cooked.
Theo was trying to read.
Wemmbu was staring at the book.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You're staring.”
“I like the pictures.”
“There aren't pictures.”
“There are words.”
“Those aren't pictures.”
“They are to me.”
Theo looked at him.
“You've been learning Human for how long?”
“A long time.”
“And you still call words pictures?”
“Yes.”
Theo smiled.
“Fair.”
Wemmbu leaned against him.
Theo continued reading.
After a few minutes, Wemmbu fell asleep.
Theo looked down.
Then carefully closed the book.
Parrot looked over.
“Asleep?”
“Yeah.”
“Put him down.”
Theo shook his head.
“He's comfortable.”
Parrot smiled.
“You're getting soft.”
Theo looked offended.
“I'm protecting him.”
“Sure.”
“That's exactly what I'm doing.”
Parrot laughed.
“Of course.”
Four months passed.
Then one day, Wemmbu didn't come back.
Not because Parrot and Theo knew he was leaving.
Not because they had any warning.
He simply wandered.
And eventually, he found himself somewhere else.
This time, he was attacked on the road.
The encounter was brief, confusing, and frightening.
Before Wemmbu could figure out what to do, someone intervened.
A lion hybrid.
Mane.
Mane drove the attackers away and crouched beside him.
“Hey.”
Wemmbu looked up.
“Hi.”
“You hurt?”
Wemmbu shook his head.
“Just tired.”
Mane studied him.
“Do you have somewhere to go?”
Wemmbu thought.
He thought about Parrot.
Theo.
The house.
The End.
The strange collection of places he had somehow ended up belonging to.
Then he shrugged.
“I don't know.”
Mane nodded.
“Come on.”
Wemmbu followed.
Neither of them knew that this was the beginning of another home.
Mane's house wasn't large.
It didn't need to be.
There was a kitchen, a living room, two bedrooms, a small training area outside, and enough storage space for the things that mattered.
Flame opened the door.
Then stared at the little dragon standing behind Mane.
Then stared at Mane.
Then back at Wemmbu.
“What is that?”
Wemmbu frowned.
“I'm not a that.”
Flame blinked.
Then laughed.
“Okay.”
Mane stepped inside.
“This is Wemmbu.”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Flame looked him up and down.
“Does he eat?”
Wemmbu immediately answered.
“Yes.”
Flame looked at Mane.
“Then why are we standing here?”
Mane sighed.
“Fair point.”
The first meal was awkward.
Mostly because Flame kept staring.
Wemmbu noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You're staring.”
“I've never seen an Enderdragon before.”
Wemmbu looked down at himself.
“I'm not very big.”
“You're still an Enderdragon.”
“Oh.”
Flame poked one of his horns.
Wemmbu pulled away.
“Don't.”
“Sorry.”
A pause.
Then Flame pointed at Wemmbu's wings.
“Can you fly?”
“Yes.”
“How well?”
“Good.”
“Prove it.”
Mane put his fork down.
“No.”
Flame looked at him.
“I was just asking.”
“I know what you're doing.”
“What?”
“Trying to get him to do something stupid.”
Wemmbu looked at Flame.
Flame looked at Wemmbu.
They both smiled.
Mane sighed.
“I can already tell this is going to be a problem.”
It was.
The next morning, Flame woke up to the sound of something crashing outside.
He shot out of bed.
“Mane!”
Mane was already standing.
“What?”
“Something broke!”
They rushed outside.
Wemmbu was sitting in the grass.
Flame was standing over him.
A wooden target had fallen over.
Mane stared.
“What happened?”
Flame pointed at Wemmbu.
“He did it.”
Wemmbu pointed at Flame.
“He told me to.”
“I told you to hit it!”
“You said hit it hard!”
“I didn't mean that hard!”
Mane looked at the target.
It had been snapped cleanly in half.
He looked at Wemmbu.
Then Flame.
Then the target again.
“Did either of you get hurt?”
“No,” Wemmbu said.
“No,” Flame answered.
Mane nodded.
“Good.”
Flame smiled.
“So we can do it again?”
“No.”
“Aww.”
Wemmbu looked disappointed.
Mane pointed at both of them.
“Training is outside. The furniture stays alive.”
Flame grinned.
“Got it.”
Wemmbu nodded seriously.
“Okay.”
Mane walked away.
Flame waited.
Then whispered,
“Tomorrow?”
Wemmbu whispered back.
“Tomorrow.”
Training became their thing.
Flame liked pushing Wemmbu.
Wemmbu liked proving Flame wrong.
Mane liked pretending he wasn't watching every second.
“Again,” Flame said.
Wemmbu stood.
“You already won.”
“I know.”
“Then why again?”
“Because you almost got me.”
Wemmbu smiled.
“Oh.”
Flame raised his hands.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
They moved.
Wemmbu ducked.
Flame swung.
Wemmbu slipped around him.
Flame turned.
Too slow.
Wemmbu tapped his shoulder.
“Got you.”
Flame froze.
Mane looked up from where he was sitting.
A grin spread across his face.
Flame stared at Wemmbu.
“You cheated.”
“I didn't.”
“You did.”
“How?”
“You're small.”
Wemmbu frowned.
“That doesn't count.”
“It absolutely counts.”
Mane laughed.
Flame looked over.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because you lost.”
“I did not.”
Wemmbu raised a hand.
“I won.”
Flame pointed at him.
“Rematch.”
Wemmbu grinned.
“Okay.”
Days became weeks.
Weeks became months.
And somewhere along the way, Wemmbu stopped waiting for someone to tell him how long he could stay.
Nobody asked him to leave.
Nobody told him when his time was up.
He simply stayed.
He had a place at the table.
A blanket on the couch.
A small pile of things in the corner of Flame's room.
At some point, Flame stopped complaining about sharing.
Mostly.
“You're stealing my blanket.”
Wemmbu pulled it closer.
“It's cold.”
“That's my blanket.”
“You have another one.”
“That one is bad.”
“Then use mine.”
Flame stared at him.
“You're using mine.”
“Yes.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
Wemmbu smiled.
“I'm cold.”
Flame sighed.
“Fine.”
He climbed onto the couch beside him.
“Move.”
Wemmbu moved.
Flame pulled half the blanket over himself.
“There.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't make it weird.”
Wemmbu smiled.
“I won't.”
Five minutes later, Wemmbu was asleep against his shoulder.
Flame looked down.
Then very carefully pulled the blanket higher.
“...You're annoying.”
Wemmbu didn't answer.
Flame smiled anyway.
Mane noticed the little things.
He noticed Wemmbu always left his shoes by the door.
He noticed he never finished a glass of water.
He noticed he hated thunderstorms.
He noticed that whenever someone raised their voice unexpectedly, Wemmbu's wings pulled tight against his back.
So Mane stopped raising his voice.
He noticed Wemmbu would quietly disappear whenever he thought he had done something wrong.
So Mane started looking for him.
The first time it happened, Mane found him sitting behind the house.
“What are you doing?”
Wemmbu looked over.
“Nothing.”
Mane sat down.
“You've been gone for an hour.”
“I didn't want to bother you.”
“You don't bother me.”
Wemmbu looked down.
“I broke the training dummy.”
Mane stared at him.
“That was Flame's fault.”
Wemmbu looked surprised.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“I watched him tell you to hit it.”
Wemmbu thought about that.
“Oh.”
Mane smiled.
“You're not in trouble.”
“Okay.”
They sat quietly.
After a moment, Wemmbu leaned against Mane.
Mane rested a hand on his head.
“Next time you think you've done something wrong, tell me.”
“Okay.”
“Don't disappear.”
Wemmbu nodded.
“Okay.”
Flame was much less subtle.
If Wemmbu disappeared, Flame went looking immediately.
“Wemmbu!”
Nothing.
“Wemmbu!”
Still nothing.
Flame marched around the house.
“Mane!”
“What?”
“I lost him.”
Mane looked up.
“You lost him?”
“He was here!”
“He's not a cat.”
“I know that!”
Mane stood.
“Where did you last see him?”
“Kitchen.”
They checked the kitchen.
Nothing.
Living room.
Nothing.
Outside.
Nothing.
Flame stopped.
“Wait.”
He looked toward the training area.
A tiny pair of horns was sticking out from behind the equipment.
Flame walked over.
“Found you.”
Wemmbu looked up.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing?”
“Hiding.”
“Why?”
“Because you were looking for me.”
Flame stared.
“That is the opposite of hiding.”
“Oh.”
Flame sat beside him.
“You want to come inside?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I'm not done hiding.”
Flame considered.
“Okay.”
He sat down too.
Mane eventually found both of them.
He stared.
“Seriously?”
Flame shrugged.
“We're hiding.”
“From what?”
“Nothing.”
Mane shook his head.
“Fine.”
And left them there.
Because sometimes family didn't need to make sense.
The months kept moving.
Wemmbu learned Flame's habits.
Flame learned Wemmbu's.
Mane learned both.
Wemmbu learned that Flame hated losing.
Flame learned that Wemmbu hated admitting he was tired.
Mane learned that both of them could turn literally anything into a competition.
Who could finish breakfast first.
Who could run faster.
Who could climb higher.
Who could land closer to the target.
Who could make Mane laugh first.
That last one became the most important.
One evening, the three of them were eating dinner.
Flame looked at Wemmbu.
“Bet you can't make Mane laugh.”
Wemmbu looked at Mane.
Mane immediately became suspicious.
“Don't.”
Wemmbu grinned.
“Why?”
“I know that face.”
“What face?”
“That face.”
Wemmbu looked at Flame.
Flame whispered,
“Do it.”
Wemmbu stood on his chair.
Mane closed his eyes.
“Get down.”
“No.”
“Wemmbu.”
“I have an announcement.”
Flame was already trying not to laugh.
Mane sighed.
“What?”
Wemmbu raised both arms dramatically.
“I am the greatest dragon in the entire world.”
Mane stared at him.
Flame snorted.
Wemmbu continued.
“I can defeat anyone.”
“Get down.”
“I can fly faster than anyone.”
“Wemmbu.”
“I can breathe fire.”
“You've never actually—”
Wemmbu made a tiny dramatic roar.
Flame burst out laughing.
Mane lasted three seconds.
Then he laughed too.
Wemmbu grinned.
“I won.”
Flame pointed at him.
“No, you didn't.”
“I made him laugh.”
“I was helping.”
“You still lost.”
Mane shook his head.
“You're both idiots.”
Wemmbu smiled.
Flame smiled.
Mane smiled.
And somehow, that became one of those evenings none of them would ever think to remember.
Because at the time, it was simply dinner.
A year passed.
An entire year.
Long enough that Wemmbu no longer felt like someone Mane and Flame had found.
He was simply Wemmbu.
Their brother.
Their loud little problem.
Their extra chair at the table.
Their missing blanket.
Their training partner.
Their family.
Flame stopped saying,
“Wemmbu is staying with us.”
He simply said,
“Wemmbu's outside.”
Mane stopped introducing him as the kid they found.
He called him his brother.
And Wemmbu called them his brothers.
It happened so naturally that none of them noticed.
Then, one afternoon, Wemmbu went for a walk.
He did it all the time.
Mane was working.
Flame was training.
Wemmbu had nothing to do.
“I'll be back.”
Flame looked over.
“Where are you going?”
“Walking.”
“Don't go too far.”
“I won't.”
Mane glanced up.
“Take a jacket.”
“I won't need one.”
“You always say that.”
“I won't.”
Mane pointed at him.
“Back before dinner.”
Wemmbu nodded.
“Okay.”
He left.
Neither brother thought anything of it.
He always came back.
That was the rule.
Except this time, someone else found him first.
Wemmbu had wandered farther than he meant to.
The familiar landscape slowly disappeared behind him.
He was turning around when he heard a voice.
“Wemmbu.”
He froze.
He knew that voice.
He turned.
“Dad?”
Minute stood there.
The Guardian of the End looked at him for a long moment.
Then slowly smiled.
“There you are.”
Wemmbu smiled back.
“You found me.”
“I've been looking for you.”
Wemmbu looked behind him.
“I was walking.”
“I know.”
“I'm supposed to be home before dinner.”
Minute's expression softened.
“Are you?”
Wemmbu nodded.
“Mane and Flame are waiting.”
Minute was quiet.
Then he held out his hand.
“Come home.”
Wemmbu stared at it.
His smile faded slightly.
He looked back toward the path.
He thought about the house.
Flame's terrible jokes.
Mane's cooking.
Training.
The couch.
The blanket.
The little space that had become his.
“I need to tell them.”
Minute didn't answer immediately.
Then he said,
“We can come back.”
Wemmbu looked at him.
“You promise?”
Minute nodded.
“We'll see them again.”
That seemed to be enough.
Wemmbu took his hand.
And went with him.
Back at the house, Flame was the first to notice.
He looked toward the door.
Then the clock.
“He's late.”
Mane looked up.
“He'll be back.”
“He said before dinner.”
“I know.”
Dinner came.
The chair remained empty.
Flame stared at it.
“Maybe he stopped somewhere.”
Mane nodded.
“Probably.”
They waited.
The food got cold.
Flame pushed his plate away.
“I'll go look.”
Mane stood.
“I'll come.”
They searched the nearby paths.
Nothing.
The training area.
Nothing.
The woods.
Nothing.
Flame called his name until his voice became hoarse.
“Wemmbu!”
No answer.
They returned home.
The door opened.
The empty chair was still there.
Flame stared at it.
“He left.”
Mane didn't answer.
“He left again.”
Mane sat down.
“I know.”
Flame looked at him.
“Is he coming back?”
Mane swallowed.
“I don't know.”
Flame's face crumpled.
“I thought he was staying.”
Mane pulled him closer.
“So did I.”
They sat there.
Neither of them knew where Wemmbu had gone.
Neither knew who had found him.
Neither knew that, somewhere far away, Wemmbu was walking through the End again.
And neither knew that this was not the last time Wemmbu would disappear from their lives.
The End felt familiar.
Too familiar.
Wemmbu walked through the halls beside Minute.
Then he heard footsteps.
Fast ones.
“Wemmbu!”
He turned.
Spoke practically launched himself at him.
Wemmbu caught him.
“Hi.”
“You're back!”
“Yeah.”
Mapicc appeared behind him.
“You were gone.”
“I know.”
“Where?”
Wemmbu smiled.
“I was with my brothers.”
Spoke froze.
Mapicc stared.
“You have brothers?”
Wemmbu nodded.
“Yeah.”
“How many?”
Wemmbu thought.
“I don't know.”
Spoke looked at Mapicc.
Mapicc looked at Spoke.
Minute quietly walked past them.
Neither boy noticed the look on his face.
Because Wemmbu was already moving deeper into the End.
Back toward the place he had once called home.
Again.
For now.
And somewhere far away, in a small house with an empty chair at the table, two brothers were waiting.
They didn't know where he was.
They didn't know who had taken him.
They didn't know how many other places he had called home.
They only knew that they missed him.
And they were going to keep waiting.