The shadows of his dreams were a rather exciting place to stay. Time had no place here and the void was an endless adventure of quite impossible possibilities. It was truly fascinating for a boy his age. In this comfort, Morgan Pendragon could imagine whatever his heart desired and it would be real to him.

And only him.

Yet as Morgan tossed and turned on the living room couch and curled up under the heavy blanket, he had the oddest sensation that something - or rather someone - was near. And it was this sensation that forced him to awaken from such a blissful slumber.

His eyes shot open and he was rudely introduced to the midafternoon sun shining through the glass door to the back of the house. This was his favorite time to sleep - oddly enough, precisely during the middle of the day - so such a feeling must have been important if it was worth such a rude interruption.

He raised his head with a sense of excited precaution. On the armchair near him sat his mother, her mind entrapped in a book and oblivious to this new presence. Morgan wasn't sure if this "something" or "someone" was of good intentions - he hadn't quite honed in on that skill yet - but the more he practiced magic, the more he discovered its abilities. It was like an invisible cloud surrounded him with an unfamiliar aura, and the closer he got to the source, the easier he could depict its purpose.

As he turned to face the front door, that same invisible cloud suddenly became a wave of comfort and exhilarating joy. In an instant, Morgan knew exactly who stood outside of their house, and his smile widened as he sprung the blanket onto the floor and leapt for their visitors.

Sophie barely knew what had happened until her son was already at the door.

"Morgan, what-" She set the book down and stood up in haste, however before she could stop his energy, the lock clicked open and he pulled hard on the handle.

"You were right, Mom," Morgan said, his voice high with delight. "I made a wish that Dad would come home and it came true."

Sophie stood behind Morgan in a flash, her hand holding the side of his head in maternal instinct. She was quick to defend him from whatever anonymous figure approached their home, not quite processing his words. Yet as she faced the crowd standing on her doorstep, she realized what he meant.

Like a gentle thief in the night or a beautiful twist of fate, Howl had come back to her.

Tears welled in her eyes, matching Howl's as he stared longingly between herself and Morgan. Though he'd only been away for a couple weeks, it always felt like a lifetime of distance. This had also been the longest amount of time Howl had been away from his son, which added to the sting of separation.

Sophie's optimism was cut short, unfortunately, as she noticed that Howl held Ryo in his grip, the boy wearing a timid visage. This was much to Sophie's surprise. Her first thought was that he'd returned with Markl, so eagerly she searched the crowd that stood on their doorstep. Calcifer stood next to him, Griff clutching tight arms around his neck in a deep sleep. Behind them, Lona soothed baby Sora as she hardly made a sound, and Xarx was a solitary being next to her.

No Markl.

Howl set Ryo down softly on the front porch and moved quickly to cup Sophie's cheeks, embracing her in a long-awaited kiss. He didn't care about the wandering eyes that stared at them, nor did he care about the snide comments from Xarx - which were not uncommon from a man of his pessimistic attitude, Howl reminded himself. All he desperately needed was Sophie's love and to remember the sweet taste of her lips.

Sophie didn't waste a moment to wrap her arms around his center, memorizing every second of this moment. She still cried through this kiss, however, as wonderful and satisfying as it was to be in his presence again. It was a kiss tainted in sadness for an unsuccessful mission, a kiss desperate to be joyous in the midst of defeat.

While she had hoped like the rest of them that Markl had returned home, she was relieved that Howl was able to return at all.

✧ ･ﾟ: * ✧ ･ﾟ: * ✧

Their romantic reunion was short-lived, which became a melancholic reminder of Howl's former missions. All the times he would come and go without warning, leaving her to take charge of a castle and a child and a fire demon - not to mention caring for the elderly Witch of the Wastes, may her soul rest in peace - now she had been left caring for a child of their own.

This time, however, was entirely different from the missions of Howl's past. This time, their family was in a severely dangerous conundrum.

"Gwenda, Kenta, and Wynnie..." Sophie covered her mouth with shivering fingers, her voice muffled underneath as Lona explained the situation. She had no more tears left to cry, despite her fierce wish to release some form of sadness. After all the sleepless nights worrying over Markl, though, it appeared that she was all spent.

In an effort to comfort her, Heen scratched at Sophie's leg and wheezed through his bearded snout. He much preferred the company of the adults rather than the rambunctious children who played outside. They were too energetic for such a tired, old dog - and he was much more aware of Sophie's grief and wished to alleviate her sorrows.

Sophie picked up his heavy body and rested him on her lap. She ran her fingers up and down his back, her mind racing around too many problems that seemed to exist in their lives. For some reason, she had hoped that settling down from wars and ruthless rulers would bring about a simple lifestyle. She knew now that was further from the reality, as nothing under the blanket of magic would ever be simple.

Sophie looked over to Lona, who sat directly across from her. Such fierce eyes brightened the room even without the presence of a fire, and her cheeks now matched the same shade. Lona nodded toward Calcifer and Xarx, continuing the story. "They spent all of last night and today trying to create a portal to Wales, but Howl said they didn't have everything for the spell."

Sophie sighed. "It would have been much easier if we still had the door dial." While most of Howl's door transportations in his castle led to places in Ingary, he mentioned once he had a connection to Wales for some time. This was long before he met Sophie, and at some point he cut off the route entirely. She didn't want to ask why, but assumed it had something to do with his feelings toward Wales - and those who resided there.

"Without his magical door dial, we have to do things the old-fashioned way." Calcifer said, his elbows rested against his knees. "This spell requires two objects - one originally from the place of casting, and one originally from the place of transporting."

From behind the closed door in Howl's office, everyone heard Howl's grunts and objects flinging against the walls. He was never one for keeping things orderly, and Sophie rarely went into his office for fear of messing with some balance of magic. She didn't want a repeat hair color mania, so his office was just as cleansed as Howl made it to be.

"What's he looking for exactly?" Sophie asked. She knew he had quite an array of mystical and wizarding objects, but he wasn't very fond of his time in Wales. It would have been a miracle if he kept anything from his childhood.

"His cloak." Calcifer answered. "It was handmade in Wales years before Howl even found it. It's the only object we have from Wales that could transport us there and back."

Sophie widened her eyes; she knew this cloak. She could perfectly envision its charm, the beautiful pink and blue pattern that was so eloquently fashioned. Such detail was woven into a garment so admiring of Howl's taste in clothing. He wore it the first time they met. It was his most prized possession.

She also remembered Howl's most recent argument about that exact object.

"Markl loved that cloak," Sophie whispered with downcast eyes, "More than a lot of things, really. Howl caught him wearing it a few months ago, though, and he was furious."

Calcifer sighed. "Howl doesn't like when people mess with his things, even the people closest to him, apparently." The magician jolted at the sound of Howl's office door slamming against the wall. He wondered if his friend heard his comment, but the eccentric wizard appeared more irritated about other pressing matters.

Xarx crossed his arms over his bulky chest. "Couldn't find it in that mess you call an office, huh?" Calcifer smacked his arm, though Xarx hardly moved other than a casual shrug. Sophie continued petting Heen as she stared at Howl, his anger building and surging into his tight fists. As helpful as Xarx had been in their search, he never really knew when to hold his tongue.

"No," Howl seethed, "I did not find the cloak."

"Where did you put it after Markl tried it on?" Sophie asked. "I know it was a while ago, but I don't think any of us have seen it since."

Howl pointed at the disarray of potion bottles and spell books and other magical garbs that disoriented the room. "Right in there. I put it in my office closet and now it's gone and I have no idea where it is."

Howl paced the floor with impatient steps. Even though he was known for keeping things out of order, they were orderly to him. He had his own system, which worked perfectly when others left his things alone. The magical properties of some objects were not to be rearranged for fear of the possible chaos.

That cloak was one of those objects, and in the wrong hands could be devastating.

"Well, I guess we better find another object that was made in Wales." Xarx said very matter-of-factly. "How many of those do you think exist in Ingary?"

Howl glared at the wizard. "I don't appreciate your tone."

"Well, I don't appreciate your sloppiness."

As Howl reached clawing hands toward him, Calcifer stood up and seized his wrists. Though he could barely keep his eyes open, he had enough strength to hopefully mitigate Howl's temper. "We've been through this before. Xarx is an asshole and nothing will change it."

Xarx bobbed his head back. "I think I liked it better when you kept calling me a hermit."

"Well, both are pretty true right now." Calcifer said. "It's like you absolutely couldn't care less about what happens to Gwenda or Kenta or even Markl at this point."

"Of course I care about what happens to Markl." Xarx scoffed. "He's my pupil, however that arrangement came to be."

Howl narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what you think." Xarx whispered. Though Calcifer kept himself and the couch between the two wizards, their tension rose intently with every word spoken. It was quite usual for Xarx to say whatever was on his mind, yet his lack of empathy for anyone but himself was far too bothersome to fathom. Calcifer couldn't imagine living a life that was simply dedicated to himself.

Well, he couldn't imagine it anymore - his time after being a star changed his perspective.

"Speaking of Markl," All eyes turned to Lona, who had been quiet for much of the conversation. She twiddled her fingers in her lap, not daring to look up at anyone. "Sophie, I have to ask. Why didn't you tell any of us what happened to him?"

Her body froze and she stopped grazing Heen's back. The stout dog quickly noticed this, and scratched her arm to keep the soothing motions going. Sophie sat stunned, however, and barely paid any mind to him. Heen wheezed at her, wishing that his other old friend was here to remedy his itchy fur. Unfortunately, she was nowhere in sight.

Sophie was at a loss for words.

Lona leaned forward in the chair. "We're your family, even if we're not by blood. We're here to help you, no matter how terrible the situation seems to be."

Sophie bit her lip and nodded. She inhaled a shaky breath, then released it with as much composure as she could muster. "I know. It's just... to tell people that he wasn't home was to say- was to admit that..." She closed her eyes and turned away. Even Sophie couldn't say it out loud.

Calcifer, on the other hand, had no trouble at all. "It would be admitting Markl left home."

"We don't know that for a fact." Howl said, pointing a firm finger at Calcifer. "There's no proof of it. Something could have easily taken him or worse."

"Why are you still in denial?" Xarx grumbled. "Were you not there just yesterday in the Wastes watching the same scene Calcifer and I did?"

"I'm not in denial," Howl retorted, nearly spitting at the wizard, "We have no idea what really happened to Markl or why he disappeared like that. All we have is a broken light trail that sent us on a wild goose chase for weeks. You really should work on that spell, Xarx, for how many times the hologram broke."

"No idea?" Xarx stood up, his tone heating with a sense of irritation. "So you're telling me that you haven't noticed he's been miserable for years? You had absolutely no idea of that?"

"He hasn't been miserable; he's a teenager."

"Who spent the most important years of his life in the background," Xarx shouted. The afternoon light from the glass backdoor glistened in his eyes, shining a ferocious gold. "You may have been too busy to see it, but I wasn't. I saw everything."

Howl grabbed Xarx by his collar and flung him over the couch. Heen trembled in fear and tumbled off of Sophie's lap, wheezing away to a safer room. Everyone backed away from the aggressive magicians, Sophie darting her eyes to the backdoor in the hopes that the kids wouldn't see the commotion inside.

Calcifer leapt over the couch and pulled against Howl's shoulder, but the wizard's grip was too strong. He locked dead eyes with Xarx, two black voids contrasting the glossy gold. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't put ideas in his head."

Xarx was calm. "None of this would have happened if you were just honest with him."

"Honest with him?" Sophie asked. "About what?"

Howl thrust him against the wall, pressing harder against his collarbone. "Enough, Xarx."

"All he wanted was a scrap of his past," Xarx said with enmity, "And you couldn't satisfy even that." The two wizards were matched - in power, in skill, and in hatred. For once, the passive wizard exuded some semblance of emotion while Howl went full force with his. Xarx rarely cared for people; in fact, he hadn't a shred of feelings toward anyone in particular. He was a hermit for a reason.

Yet Markl was a different story, and surprisingly, the unemotional magician actually empathized with the boy's pain.