Today, Chapter 16 - Blessings is released. I hope you all enjoy the continuation of the story.

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Lupus sighed to himself as he rested against the cold, metallic wall outside the panel room. An hour had passed since the Custodian meeting began, during which Carlos presented Lupus’s patrol review. The uncertainty of how things would unfold brought the wolf little reassurance.

Fortunately, he had the comforting thought of his conversation with Liam and Tyler to occupy his time. The memory lingered, leaving Lupus with a cheek-pulling grin that stayed with him. That thought offered him solace; he reclined, closing his eyelids.

At least being a custodian offered him a chance of being reunited with them.

Before long, a mechanical hiss broke the stillness. The panel room door slid open, and Carlos stepped out with a composed visage. The protogen turned back toward the darkened room and gave a respectful nod.

“Thanks for your time,” Carlos stated, turning to face the wolf. Even though the protogen uttered nothing, his smile communicated the results before words emerged.

Lupus remained unsatisfied, inquiring, “Well? How did it go?” with growing curiosity that matched the nerves he buried.

Carlos approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It vent vell,” replied the protogen with a tone that convinced the wolf. “Ze reviewers are content vith your progress.”

A breath Lupus hadn’t realised he was holding slipped free. Any stressful concerns that inhabited his chest left, but Carlos continued to explain that the reviewers noticed how much Lupus gained control of himself. Yet, Carlos’s voice seemed unpersuaded by the words that left his lips.

Lupus sought to extract answers from the protogen. While Lupus lacked comprehensive details concerning Carlos, he recognised enough certainty to infer that Carlos kept a secret. The wolf couldn’t shake the feeling that Carlos paragraphed and sugarcoated the reviewer’s words, maybe even shielding him from potential sizeist remarks. Lupus trusted Carlos’s report on the outcome; that fact sufficed.

Saying nothing else, Lupus followed Carlos down the corridor to the facility exit that led into Brackenmoor. Neither of them spoke until they entered the chaotic street, and even then, they both found it difficult to speak over the crowd. The best way they gauged how the other felt was their smiles, lifted by the result of Lupus’s Custodian review.

They proceeded further into the ceaseless flow of Vastelerians engaged in daily routines. Unless it proved difficult for Carlos and Lupus to stay together, the protogen reached out and took the wolf’s hand.

With his focus on navigating the crowd outsourced to Carlos, more space opened in Lupus’s mind to focus on the protogen’s stare. Some were fleeting, more than passing glances. Others remained, surveying him with confused gazes. Lupus tried to convince himself it was only natural, but the feeling lingered in his mind until, almost without thinking, he gripped Carlos’s hand a little tighter.

Carlos glanced back to meet Lupus and brushed his thumb over the wolf’s palm. “Are you vell?” The protogen projected above the conversations around them and kept his focus on the wolf until Lupus nodded back. “Alex’s place is not far now. It’s two streets down from here.”

Lupus nodded and concentrated his attention on the protogen in front, rather than the bystanders.

They continued weaving through the busy sidewalk, but Lupus kept his gaze fixed downward. He stared at the square metal tiles embedded in the ground—pressure plates that release a satisfying click beneath his paws. A mechanism to harness the kinetic energy he exerted with every step to power the homes and street lamps around him.

Although he knew about them before, they helped distract him from the world around him. One step after the other covered a single pressure plate, wondering how hard he’d need to step down to provide enough energy to power his old apartment. It was a weird thought that his ground-rumbling footsteps were being repurposed into something useful.

Renewable energy.

For a moment, he imagined a world where Vastelerian walking kept the lights on. He enjoyed running, but powering a neighbourhood via a run on this walkway would bring him even greater joy. If that were the case, Lupus knew he’d shorten his strides and strengthen his footfalls.

Still, the idea soured. Exclusive to Brackenmoor, this tech remains unavailable to those enduring extortionate energy prices.

There it was…another benefit of cohabitation robbed from the United Kingdom.

His next footstep came down harder than he had intended. Enough for Lupus to flinch as he caught onto his outburst until he looked at the nearby streetlamp.

A slow exhale left Lupus’s nose as he shook his head. It matters little now to recall Vastelerian and Petritan relations’ regression under The Division. He had more pressing things to focus on, such as his destination.

Yes, it was daunting. Indeed, it induced anxiety—preferable to the stares of Petritans when he challenged The Division. Still, he kept walking while taking deep breaths to ease himself.

Lupus’s gaze remained downcast, yet he’d glance up to observe Carlos. He would catch the confused eyes of a bystander walking past him. He kept pace behind the protogen navigating Brackenmoor’s labyrinth.

After they passed a second alleyway, they turned a corner into a narrower street. It was quiet, polished, and decorated with flower pots that had a single tree planted inside. Lupus found it amusing that someone had transformed a towering tree into a decorative piece beside their door.

The protogen slowed his pace as they approached a wooden door. Carlos motioned Lupus toward the exit. “Go ahead. Knock on ze door.”

Lupus did just that; he knocked. A second later, came a clatter, followed by enclosing footsteps.

Before Lupus could blink, the door flew open, and Alex’s hand reached out to pull him inside. The moment he stepped into the apartment, he noticed the living room and kitchen layout mirrored Carlos’s home.

Carlos entered, closing the door behind him, then inquired of Alex, “Ready?”

Already the shark had turned toward the kitchen, but pointed toward the basement door. “Yeah! I’ll be there after I grab myself a cuppa,” the shark insisted with a tooth-filled smirk and walked to the kitchen.

Except, just as Alex walked past him, Lupus heard a tender, almost hesitant voice come from below. “Um, hello, Lupus. It’s nice to see you.”

He heard a soft sound, its source catching his notice as he peered downwards.

There, inside the stretched fishnet stockings on Alex’s right thigh: Milo. The nylon fabric held him in place as the shark’s legs shifted back and forth. Yet, the little lion remained calm, as if being Alex’s fashion accessory was nothing new.

Instinct urged Lupus to vocalise the lion’s safety to the shark; reason told him to consider Milo’s relaxed expression. Only someone confident in Vastelerian trust would appear relaxed there. His eyes locked onto the lion, unsure whether to say something.

“Come on, Lupus,” Carlos shouted, hand gripping the doorframe as he turned his head.

Lupus gave one last look at the shark and turned to Carlos to follow. Cool air met him as he descended the stairs into the dim basement. As they reached the bottom, Lupus’s gaze fixed on the centre of the room.

Another table, similar to the two in Carlos’s and Noah’s basement, dominated the space. A half-finished model medieval village with scattered tools and paintbrushes sprawled across its surface. In the centre, only the small castle stood complete. Carlos, Noah, and now Alex, had built their own miniature village, inspired by a different era of British history.

Lupus’s brow furrowed. Surveying the scene, he then glanced toward Carlos, attempting to reconstruct the events. Their plans to build model villages to accommodate Petritan’s was nothing new to him. So, why did Carlos bring him here?

The wolf was about to ask Carlos until the basement door creaked open. He glanced back, catching Alex descending the stairs with Milo tucked in the stocking. Lupus could’ve sworn their grin grew when they looked at him, but he assumed it was pride for the little medieval village.

“Arthur, come out,” the shark declared, ceasing its movement near the table’s edge. “We have guests.”

The wolf’s attention shifted downward, searching the table for any sign of the fennec fox. His eyes scanned the village until something caught his gaze on the little castle. There, on the summit, was Arthur. They had puffed out their chests, raised a paw high up, and bellowed, “That is King Arthur to you!”

Alex lowered both hands onto the table edge and leaned forward until their nostrils hovered a few inches above Arthur. “I’ve already eaten, Kai,” they growled out, dark humour consuming every syllable. To emphasise their point, they lifted their left hand to rest on their exposed stomach. “Do you want me to snack on you too?”

Lupus gulped. ‘Wait, that was a joke, right?’

He looked at three of them to gauge their expressions. Carlos’s visor couldn’t handle expanding that arch of a smile, while Arthur stood tall with his chest puffed out.

Still, just to be sure…

“You didn’t eat him, right?” Lupus inquired towards the shark, who let out a snicker that almost blew Arthur off foot.

It started as a low vibration in the shark’s chest, then rolled out into Alex, releasing a deep, slow snicker. The shark leaned back from the table to meet Lupus. “Nay, not at all,” they uttered, their tone hinting at something sinister. “But it’s so much fun to mess with Kai.”

The wolf pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is this why I’m here?”

“Kind of,” the shark drawled, shifting sideways. A humble movement that allowed him to once again see Milo inside the fishnet stockings.

The shark’s grin didn’t fade as they leaned against the table and slipped their tail under the table. “I needed to show you how rewarding it is when you learn how to handle having a Vastelerian body, especially when handling Petritans.”

Lupus gave him a sidelong look. “You consider this a teaching moment. Having me listen to you joke about eating someone or seeing a Petritan attached to your clothes.”

Alex just smiled, teeth gleaming, unbothered by the judgement. “I outgrew my life too, y’know.”

That comment left Lupus curious. Lupus assumed the shark meant controlling their size, but he also suspected there was more to it. Everyone else around stared at him.

Before the wolf spoke up, he watched the shark’s right hand raised towards him. There, on their fingertip, was an opened Petritan-sized heart-shaped silver locket. Inside, a photo of a younger Alex and a snow-leopard, infatuated with one another. As Lupus’s lips opened, Alex’s pinky finger brushed across the locket to close it. It had only taken Lupus a few seconds to realise who owned the locket.

The no-longer Petritan-sized shark before him—another Ascendant.

Someone else who understood. A person thrown into a different body for a fresh start. To meet someone with shared lived experience who could be his guide should have comforted him.

It didn’t.

He turned his gaze toward them, his tone softer now. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Alex just shook his head at him and said, “I’m not after sympathy.” While the shark closed their fingers to conceal the locket, Carlos walked up to them both and rested a hand on the wolf’s shoulder.

“Besides,” Alex added, flicking their tail with theatrical pride. “It felt great turning that fishing vessel junk into a new outfit,” they insisted as they pinched their anchor necklace.

Lupus, thinking about the shark’s trials, offered a gentle smile. As that smile stretched, Alex turned around to stand in front of him. They had let out a sigh that ruffled his maw fur.

“Yeah, it’s rough to outgrow the life you built,” Alex told the wolf with a giggle that contradicted the hardship they confessed. “I promise you, you’ll find out that there’s something that makes being an Ascendant a blessing.”

‘A blessing?’ Lupus thought to himself, bewildered. Nothing about what he’d endured since his growth resembled fortune—let alone something as generous as a blessing. Growth had removed him from the life he had invested in, compelling him to accept this new reality. With power came emotional instability, jeopardising his friendships with Tyler and Liam.

He wished his pain set him apart. No one else handled his situation, yet he possessed neither ignorance nor naivety. The Vastelerian-Petritan relationship did not foster, nor provide a climate for Ascendants to grow without risking losing more than they gained.

The shark’s facial expression held that smile as they reached to fish Milo out of their stockings. They held the little, silent lion in a fist that deposited Milo onto the table, right between two unpainted houses. “Milo, would you mind placing this back in the castle, please?” Alex asked and lowered a fingertip with the heart-shaped locket on top.

Milo slid it off the shark’s awaiting finger and slipped it into their trouser pocket.

“Thank you, sweet thing,” they cooed and blew the little lion a kiss as they padded off to the castle.

However, Lupus’s eyes remained on the shark. Their smiles didn’t falter. Never. Not when they joked about eating Kai, nor as they felt the weight of the locket on their fingers.

Everyone had their armour; maybe this was Alex’s. “What’s your blessing about being an Ascendant?”

Alex paused.

Then, they tilted their heads back until the ridge of their snouts pointed toward the sky. They raised a clawed finger and scratched at their chin. Their gaze lowered and turned again to meet the wolf.

“I’ll show you,” they muttered to Lupus. Then, they twirled around and bent down to hunch over the little medieval village. “Milo, you have thirty seconds to hide before I hunt.”

“What?!” Lupus muttered under his breath as he stared at the shark. Alex’s boisterous play seems to be what Kai and his Petritan companions inferred.

Milo came across as shy. Sensitive. Roughhousing isn’t his style. If the lion were to get past his sensitivity, being a Petritan participant in a Vastelerian’s playful roughhousing would help that, even if Lupus didn’t agree with their methods.

Besides Lupus, the shark counted down. The wolf stood still and scanned the miniature village. His gaze flicked from unfinished cottage to unfinished cottage

“Three… two… one…” Alex whispered with a sly smile and a lick of their lips.

Then the shark’s chest expanded, and a guttural, predatory grunt rose from deep within it. Alex’s lips pulled back, baring two rows of glistening teeth, and then they lowered their snout into the village. Their nostrils flared to track down the familiar scent of a lion that was shielded by the smell of paint.

One massive finger claw reached in and plucked up one thatched roof. Inside, nothing—not even unpacked boxes. The shark sniffed, placed the roof back down, and moved on.

A painted house was next, which Alex pinched up between thumb and finger. Alex concealed the single window and door with their fingertips as they raised it up to their eyes.

Again, nothing. That should have irritated Alex, but to his surprise, the shark’s smirk grew.

“Milo…” they crooned, voice stretching out in hopes to rattle Milo out into an open space. “Playing hard to get with me now, huh?”

Alex turned to the market square. Alex leaned over a cluster of homes near the market square, where someone had knocked over some baskets. Their snout dipped low, peering through windows no bigger than Alex’s thumbprint. A few claws lifted the roofs off each structure. No Milo.

To be certain, Alex’s impatient index finger tapped the middle of the market square. Similar to how farmers use vibrations to attract worms for fishing bait, Alex hoped their finger-quakes would flush the lion out into the open.

Amid tapping their fingers, Alex’s eyes averted away to the castle in the middle. Movement in one window caught the shark’s eyes. Then came the slow lick of their lips.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” they said, clicking their tongues with mock disapproval. “Milo, I’m disappointed. I thought you learned not to hide in the castle again.”

Mindful not to damage their model’s centrepiece, Alex lowered both hands and planted them down on either side of the castle. The table shook. Paint pots jolted up. Fences and market stalls teetered over.

They leaned closer to the castle. Close enough that their every breath blasted down the castle turret’s spiral staircase like a chimney.

“Milo…” Alex cooed, voice softening, though the hunger to seize their prey created a predatory undertone. “If you come outside, I’ll be merciful,” they snickered and inhaled.

Lupus took a step closer to the table, while he focused his attention on the playful glimmer in the shark’s eyes.

With wicked delight, Alex exhaled. A long, warm breath flowed down into the turret. On the way down, the humid air escaped through the tiny windows, creating melodic whistles like a flute.

“Um, does this still qualify as roughhousing?” He asked and folded his arms.

Alex didn’t look up. Instead, they chuckled and whispered, “Only if he runs,” before blowing a second breath down the turret. “Are you still in there, little prince? I can still smell you,” they muttered in a velvet voice.

The wolf’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the castle’s arched doors and narrow windows. He looked for any sign of Milo trying to sneak away. Just when he glimpsed something in the gatehouse window, the whistle caused by Alex’s breath died down.

Alex’s fingers were on the move. They slid across the table’s surface and up the rim of the castle. The shark’s palms and fingers soon concealed narrow windows and arched doors.

“You’ve nowhere left to go,” Alex murmured down. “Hmm, maybe you don’t want to ride in my stockings after this, huh?”

Lupus scoffed. ‘That’s your pitch?’ The idea of Milo, shy and sensitive, responding to that kind of proposition seemed ridiculous. If anything, it should have made the lion burrow deeper into the castle’s labyrinth, hide until Alex got bored and wandered off to play with someone else.

The pattering inside the castle proved him wrong. The unmistakable sound of tiny, frantic footsteps echoed up from the castle tower. ‘It can’t be,’ Lupus thought and shifted his weight around to turn towards the castle.

There Milo was. The little lion had crept into view, ears low, limbs locked into place. His mane was windblown from the shark’s breath and his wide eyes darted towards Alex’s looming shadow.

“Does my prince want to ride in my stockings again?” Alex breathed out, ruffling Milo’s mane further.

Lupus felt bewildered. The idea of a Petritan wanting to be a fashion accessory felt absurd. Insulting, even. Though he would be a hypocrite if he overlooked his own experience riding in a Vastelerian’s scarf back in America.

Milo’s nod proved Lupus wrong again.

Without another word, Alex lowered one hand, claws tucked in, palm open, and hovered it in front of the tower summit.

Lupus watched, stunned, as the shark’s waiting palm lifted Milo towards Alex’s thigh. With grace, Alex’s free hand pitched apart a few fishnet strands to create a narrow gap for the lion. They slotted Milo into the opening until he nestled against the curve of their legs. Once Milo was in place, Alex released the fibres to secure the lion. “A ride fit for royalty,” Alex whispered with a voice dripping with smug satisfaction and cast a glance in Lupus’s direction.

“That doesn’t help explain anything,” he challenged the shark. “I don’t understand what makes being an Ascendant a blessing.”

Alex’s eyes lingered on Lupus for a moment; their grin curled into something more thoughtful—less smug, more understanding. Then the shark urged Lupus to look at Milo.

Lupus exhaled and followed instructions. His eyes dropped to the little lion, nestled in the fishnet lattice. Milo didn’t look distressed. Quite the opposite. His limbs were loose, his posture relaxed. His chin rested against the shark’s thigh and hands stroked across the thigh’s curves. Despite being stalked, hunted, and taken from a castle by a towering predator, Milo appeared peaceful. Safe, even.

Lupus found the paradoxical situation baffling.

His brow furrowed, and his gaze lingered on the lion longer, searching for any potential cracks in the calmness that would make sense of what he was seeing. Except there was none. It struck Lupus how much Milo trusted Alex. The lion believed the shark harmless, regardless of others’ actions. A level of faith spoke volumes about the bond between them, but it still didn’t answer the question—why did Alex call that a blessing?

“I know he trusts you, but I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Lupus replied as his ears lowered.

Alex’s gaze didn’t waver. That same knowing softness lingered in their eyes, while their thumb combed up and down the lion’s body. “Tell me, Lupus, are you giant or normal-sized right now?” They asked.

Lupus struggled to answer. He raised his palms, flipping them from up to down. His first instinct was to say big. Lupus felt big, but as he looked around the table, the model village, the basement environment around—he saw people built everything to his scale or smaller.

This led him to wonder: Is he bigger or normal-sized?

“I think I’m big,” Lupus admitted.

Alex’s eyes softened with understanding as they nodded. “That’s because you used to be smaller,” they said, their thumb still stroking Milo. “Vastelerian’s never see themselves as big. They see themselves as normal-sized and Petritans as small.”

“What do you mean?” Lupus asked.

“Ascendants alone perceive this scale as large. Only we understand how it feels to be enormous,” they emphasised.

That comment unleashed a wave of unfiltered enthusiasm where Alex couldn’t help but gush about how being an Ascendant gave them the rare and thrilling chance to relish their enormity. Around close friends, they embraced being huge. They emphasised their love for towering over others and cupping someone in a single hand, or tucking them somewhere on their person. Not to mention that every step they took felt powerful, every action they exerted wielded incalculable strength.

Lupus still struggled to see the blessing in it. The power such size afforded enticed him, yet he found no selfless method for its deployment; perhaps that is the Alex way. To treat it like an adrenaline rush around close friends alone, to express their bigness around consenting and comfortable Petritans. His viewpoint differed, yet he grasped why Alex perceived it as a blessing.

Alex’s voice lowered as they said, “I’m sure it’s not every Ascendant’s cup of tea, but it helps me,” and with that, they cupped their fingers around Milo to squeeze them into their thigh. “It may not be your thing either, Lupus, but every cloud has a silver lining. You’ll see being an Ascendant as a blessing.”

Lupus tried to imagine what the blessing hoping to find could be. He scavenged his mind, hoping to find an answer. However, the more he struggled to force a realisation, the more his ears drooped, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes drew closer to look at the ground. “How…” he began and forced his eyes up to meet Alex’s. “How did you find out?”

“You’re gonna hate the answer, but you'll find out,” Alex replied with a shrug and a voice that was gentle but unapologetic. “There’s no laid-out route, no divine instruction manual to figure it out. It just happens.”

Lupus scoffed and rolled his eyes away. “That’s not helpful,” he sounded more bitter than amused.

“You don’t get by in life with a cheat sheet,” they said, firm. “I’m not gonna tell you, or suggest to you, why you should enjoy being an Ascendant. You need to figure it out yourself.”

Lupus sighed to himself more than Alex did. Reflecting on his life’s journey, he mused how often a shortcut might have altered his course, from his youth at the orphanage to his present occupation. An instruction manual to navigate life’s difficulties would’ve been more than helpful; it would’ve been mercy on a wounded soul.

Although those tribulations did not come without their rewards. Every obstacle he’d faced had developed his character. Patience. Resilience. Empathy. Maybe answering that question would help him understand.

Lupus whispered, “Life’s never that easy, huh?”

The shark snickered. “Nope. The finest rewards often prove difficult to get,” they stated, withdrawing their hand from the lion. “But that’s why they mean something when you receive it.”

Lupus mulled over the shark’s words, letting them set like concrete in his thoughts. He breathed in, and when he exhaled, it came with the smallest shift at the corners of his mouth to create a smile.

“Also,” they spoke up in a lighter voice, “I don’t think you’ve held a Petritan yet, right?”

Lupus shook his head.

“Would you like to try holding Milo? Y’know, while we walk back up the stairs to join Carlos and Arthur?” They asked.

Lupus hesitated, and his gaze drifted toward Milo, who still nestled against Alex’s thigh. Holding such a tiny, fragile person in his palm caused his chest to tighten. He wasn’t sure if it was fear, but it sat heavy either way. Lupus looked down at his fingers, flexed them to test their strength, and then met Alex’s gaze again with a reluctant shake of his head. “Not yet,” he murmured. “I’m not ready.”

As Alex nodded, Lupus' eyes focused on his lowering hands. ‘Maybe one day,’ he thought to himself, exhaling.