Napping proves to be a much more difficult ordeal than it should be, especially in his half-hungover state. But the minute he lies to rest on the cushion provided to him he finds that he is wide awake. Tired, exhausted even, but awake nonetheless. His anger and resentment are preventing him from relaxing, and his ever-working mind is scheming a way to prove to his father that taking in Oasis is a huge mistake.

    Burrowing into the blankets, he creates for himself a dark little haven; darker than his room is naturally; enhanced with a bit of his shadow. His mind is in overdrive, straining through the headache to conspire against the stray boy. What did his father see in Oasis, anyway? The kid is a Vellamo–he has no place with Shadows.

   Adam becomes so absorbed in his thoughts he almost doesn't notice the sound of two pots being banged together. It slowly gets closer, louder, and suddenly a great weight settles on his back, trapping him in the hollow of blankets he has made for himself.

    Thrusting his head out he screeches, "GET OFF!"

    Oasis rests his arm on Adam's head and chuckles smugly. Brandy bangs the pots harder, making an awful clanging sound, and Julian watches from the doorway with a very amused look on his face.

     The sounds are an unbearable cacophony in Adam's sensitive ears, and in panicked response he sends his shadow after the offenders. Their screams of absolute horror as they flee down the hall are the last thing he hears. Not satisfied, he follows them, his shadow looming great and terrible at their heels. Brandy is crying, Oasis is howling like a savage, and Julian has disappeared into his own quarters for safety.

    A malicious thought fills Adam's mind: he could kill them all if he wanted to.

Of course, that wouldn't come without consequences, but still. He could do it.

    And he might be tempted to, if his father were not standing before him with a look of utmost disappointment in his eyes. If it had been anyone else, Adam would be resilient to this expression of disapproval. But it isn't anyone else; it is his father.

    Though the man has done many things that negate his role–at least in Adam's opinion–his father is not to be crossed.

    "Adam," the Daeron's voice is uncannily calm, causing chills to scamper up the boy's spine. "What did we discuss about using your shadow against others in the household?"

    "They woke me up!" the boy argues insistently. "As my subordinates, they should be punished!"

    "Is that how you view your siblings? They are of lower worth than you?"

    "Well they should be! They're not blood!" snarls Adam.

    Galinarael looks at his son sadly, yet with great understanding. He nods to the other children, implying that they are to leave him and Adam alone. As they scurry off, he gestures for his son to come closer. Adam's shoulders raise defensively like a cat raising its hackles, and a low growl sounds in his throat. He is not going to let this go easily, and he is not going to let his father exploit his weaknesses in order to compromise.

   "Adam. Come here."

   Growl.

    Galinarael remains patient despite his son's resilient stubbornness, which only seems to further anger the boy. At last he takes an aggressive step forward, the growl still dancing on his vocal cords.

    Placing a hand on his son's shoulders, Galinarael leads the boy outside. Adam does not go without a fight, but his father seems only to have endless patience with him.

    Once outside, Galinarael begins walking to the garden. Adam keeps pace, angrily.

    "I am not going to excuse your behavior toward the others. However, I do understand your position and I wish to know how I can improve your situation."

   "You can improve it by getting rid of the bastards."

   Galinarael stops walking, looking at his son very seriously. "Then I should have to turn you out as well."

    "I'm not a bastard."

    "With the way you act, you may as well be."

   Rage consumes the boy's very being and he faces his father with a very ugly scowl.

    "I cannot encourage your violence," Galinarael shrugs. "I understand why you feel this way, and I respect that you do. It is almost predictable that you would react with hostility."

    "I'm not predictable."

    "You are. In regards to this, at least. Again, I wish to know how I can make this easier for you."

    "And I told you. The only solution is the one you refuse," Adam snaps, looking about ready to run off the property.

   Sensing this, his father shakes his head, "Stay. Let us discuss the matter and find a more optimal solution."

    "I am not going to compromise with you, old man. Those freaks are not my siblings and they never will be. You cannot force me to cooperate and coexist with them."

    "Perhaps not, but I am not about to turn them back to the lives they led before. As for Julian, he is human."

    "And absolutely helpless," snarls the boy. "I don't care if you raised him from birth, he has no place here."

    Galinarael looks at Adam, then shakes his head. "Your selfishness is going to be the death of you, my son. I recognize that you have known nothing but pain, that your entire life has been a fight to the top. But that is not our way, here. Everyone is treated fairly, every voice is heard. This is a place of peace, of refuge. I fear you have been running so long, you no longer recognize what is truly a threat."

    "You dare assume my position?"

    "No. I merely make an observation. Adam, you are going to ruin yourself this way. I know you hate compromise, but I ask you to work with me on this. I cannot rest until I know you are at peace here."

    "So don't rest."

    "Your inability to find repose here makes me feel I have failed as both your father and mentor."

    "Well good!" Adam shouts, his voice hot with intense emotion. "I'm glad you feel that way because you have failed! You failed the moment I was born! You weren't there! You were never there! I suffered and you could feel me and still YOU NEVER EVEN TRIED TO FIND ME."

    "Our people were in the midst of a war—the brink of extinction!"

    "You chose them over your own son—over your WIFE!"

    "Do not use this tone with me!" Galinarael roars, his shadow flaring out behind him with rage.

   It is not even a taste of what his anger truly looks like, and yet it has Adam cowering. The volume of the Daeron's voice alone is enough to render the boy silent and wide-eyed, heart in a panic of anticipation for the harm that has always followed such anger.

    But Galinarael does not harm the boy. He inhales deeply, his shadow seeping back into himself, and when he opens his eyes he looks to his son with serene kindness.

   "I'm sorry," he apologizes. "It is not right for me to be so impatient with you, even if your attitude is a nightmare and you insist on being difficult. It was wrong of me to leave your mother, I understand. But I thought she would have been safe there, a human world of all places."

     "They killed her." Tears brim the boy's large brown eyes as he remains tense and terrified. "They killed her and pawned me off to some shit family who treated me worse than an animal. And you didn't even TRY to get me back."

     "We've been through this. I have no excuse for my errors and I am incredibly sorry. I regret those choices every day. But you're here now. I have found you."

     "Rhidian dragged my sorry ass here," Adam snarls again. "You didn't find me."

     "Maybe not. But every time you've run off since then, I have found you. You are safe here and there's no need to run."

     A stony silence falls between them as Adam looks away in obstinance. He refuses to let his father get through to him, and Galinarael wants nothing more than to get even a micrometer beneath this boy's callous shell. Galinarael knows Adam is not as tough as he shows himself to be. He knows that his son is hurt, confused, and broken. He wants to offer him the opportunity to heal and finally get some closure, but if the boy is not willing to accept it and in fact does not want it, who is he to force that on his son? Let the boy choose. He will come to his senses when he is ready.

    "I am not going to force you into anything while you are here. You are free to forge your own way. However," and the man's voice grows very grave as he manages to hold his son's gaze, "While you are under my roof you will still abide by my rules. As a shadow and as my son, you remain under my authority, and you are not to harm those whom I have taken into my care. This includes yourself. Do I make myself clear?"

    "Yes, sir." Adam nods; it is a short, jerking motion that implies he is still frightened to some degree.

    "Whether you are agreeing to appease me, or to simply get out of this discussion, or because you actually mean it, is irrelevant. This is all a work in progress, and I am willing to be patient with you. Just please, try to at least be passive with the others. They do not see from the same perspective as you. Now, shall we go finish preparing supper?" Galinarael sets a hand on his son's shoulder and pulls him closer; Adam shrinks away instinctively but does not necessarily resist. He allows his father to lead him back to the house and into the kitchen where he is offered various tasks involved in the preparation of their evening meal.

    The old man is even so generous as to declare that he will make one of Adam's favorite lizard dishes, something the boy absolutely cannot resist.

    In a somewhat terse but not overly uncomfortable silence, father and son work together to prepare the food. Though Adam's culinary skills are quite remarkable for his age, he finds there are still many things he can learn, and he also finds that his father isn't such a bad teacher after all.