Farid and Sebastian scurry down the circular, flagstone driveway of the family mansion, around to the back of the house, headed for the kitchen where even if the cook were awake and busy preparing the family's breakfast, all the servants knew to pretend the boys were invisible when they'd sneak in at five or six o'clock in the morning.

This time, however, they were really pushing it given it was fifteen minutes past seven.

The McFadden estate sits on the outskirts of the capital city on ten lush, green acres of land, right where the city wall meets the Aysgarth River. Luckily for the boys, the house is set far enough back from the main road that they can easily use the house's trees and shrubbery surrounding it as protection from discovery.

Made of elegant beige and gray sandstone with crisp white trim, the sprawling mansion was designed for a man of great prestige who had many wives and even more children. The central portion of the home is reserved for the First Family: Sir Geoffrey, his First Wife--Lady Brigitte, and his First Son--Sebastian. On either side of the home are two extensive wings, one that houses his Second Family--Mina and Farid--and the other that houses both his Third Family, Anka and daughters Astrid and Greta, and his Fourth Wife, Marianna, and their six-year-old son, Mateo.

While each family has its own personal space, for the most part, all the children manage to congregate in the TV room, the home theater, the indoor gym, or the pool house where they have easy access to the exquisitely-designed swimming pool, the professional-grade tennis court, the garden cottage, and the loggia with an outdoor kitchen, fireplace, and living room.

Their current plan was for them to slip quietly down the servants' hallway, through the main hall, and over to the side stairs that went up to Farid and Mina's wing, where from there, Sebastian could easily traverse a shared hallway over to his bedroom without any chance of his parents seeing him.

Unfortunately, as they pass by the dining room on their way to the stairway, a booming voice calls out after them.

"Boys! Come! Now!" Sir Geoffrey barks, his sharp-edged, commanding voice causing both boys to freeze in their tracks. Caught outright, they exchange worried glances, then turn around and sheepishly head inside.

Sitting at the head of a large, ornate dining table is their father, Sir Geoffrey McFadden. Although tall and on the slender side, Sir Geoffrey's severe countenance and regal demeanor make the mere act him calmly tapping his fingers on the table as he stares at his sons with his piercing gray eyes feel both foreboding, and to be honest, rather sinister.

"Sit down," he says, his voice tight, as he points with his chin to the chairs on either side of him.

Farid and Sebastian slide into their seats, Farid on Sir Geoffrey's right and Sebastian on his left.

Sir Geoffrey glances down at his watch, then he looks up at his sons with a carefully arched brow. "Well, this is certainly a new record," he murmurs ruefully. "Sneaking in right before breakfast. I didn't think you two had it in you. It's bold," he cracks an unnerving smile, "at least I'll give you that."

After a moment of watching his boys squirm, Sir Geoffrey waves the allegation away as if it were a mere trifle instead of breaking one of his cardinal rules--something that would typically set him off on a rant for hours. "No matter," he says almost too casually. "We'll address this issue later."

Sir Geoffrey clears his throat as he shifts in his chair. "Now, I've asked both your mothers and your sisters to have breakfast in the morning room so that we can have a little chat... just the three of us." He gives his boys an almost diabolical smile.

Sebastian and Farid exchange confused and panicked looks.

Usually, whenever they get into trouble, their father just yells at them for a bit, then banishes them to their respective bedrooms for the rest of the week, forcing them to sit and eat in isolation in order to "contemplate the significance of their actions."

Of course, he routinely forgets how the internet, mobile phones, and multiplayer games ease the boys' "suffering," making his punishments more of an irritant than a deterrent.

Sir Geoffrey scowls as he clears his throat. "Sebastian," he says. "When are you expected to leave for the Academy?"

"Monday, Father." Sebastian replies, then can't stop himself from sighing in protest.

"Honestly, Father," he continues, "I don't understand why you're sending me to this God-forsaken reform school in the first place. I know I've messed up a bit in the past, and I certainly messed up last night; I'll grant you that. But overall, I've kept my head down and out of trouble all summer long. Isn't that right, Farid?"

He gives Farid a determined look seeking reinforcement.

Farid clears his throat. "He has, Father. Tonight was just a minor slip up." Farid doesn't look his father in the eyes as he lets loose the lie.

"Poppycock!" Sir Geoffrey retorts. He turns to Sebastian. "I've heard about your little adventures, son, so don't play me for the fool. And The Otherworlders Academy is not a reform school!" he adds testily. "How many times do I have to tell you that!"

He sighs, then realizing it's simply easier to ignore Sebastian than engage with him, he turns back to Farid.

"And you, son? What are your plans now that you've graduated?"

"I leave for home later this week," Farid replies.

"Farid!" Sir Geoffrey snaps. "This is your home. And it has been for over 17 years now!"

Farid bows his head, realizing his misstep in traversing so carelessly into sensitive territory. "Sorry, Father," he murmurs. "I meant my ancestral home, Edenia."

Still irritated, Sir Geoffrey leans forward, arms on the table and practically growls out, "I know exactly what you meant, Farid. Your mother has talked of nothing else for over three years!" His nostrils flare. Then he looks away for a moment and draws in a breath, uncomfortable getting into a petty fight with his favorite son.

Sir Geoffrey's voice softens as he looks at Farid again. "Look, son," he says calmly, "I understand that this is something you've wanted for a very long time. And I think it's important for all of my children to have a thorough and genuine understanding of where their ancestors came from. Just because your mothers had to move to the capital in order to be with me, that doesn't mean that I don't respect each of their cultures. However," he sits back in his chair, "plans have changed."

Farid straightens in his seat. This can't be good.

"I know that we haven't discussed this previously, son," Sir Geoffrey says, "but I need for you to accompany your brother to the Otherworlder Academy."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Farid relaxes back into his chair.

"Certainly, Father," he says. "That's not a problem at all. I can take Sebastian up there if you like. We can even make a trip out of it."

"No, no, you don't understand." Sir Geoffrey retorts. "You won't be accompanying your brother up there; you'll be attending the school with him. I was able to get the High Council to grant you admission as well. You both leave early Monday morning, 6:00 am sharp."

"But, Father, I don't think that--" Farid's complaint overlaps with his brother's.

"I don't need a babysitter, Father!" Sebastian protests.

"Enough!" Sir Geoffrey slams his hand, palm-down, on the table.

As the sound of the slap reverberates throughout the enormous dining room, Sir Geoffrey takes in a deep breath in order to compose himself before he continues.

"Farid," Sir Geoffrey finally says, steepling his fingers together. "As a Second Son, you know that it's your duty to look after your brother. In addition to that, Sebastian's still in a delicate state that requires your supervision. Frankly, while he's made great strides in his recovery," Sir Geoffrey forces a smile and slides Sebastian a quick, but not entirely reassuring, glance, "and we're all very proud of him," he adds unconvincingly. "I believe he's still vulnerable to certain... shall we say, temptations."

With the night they both had and the things they had to do, Farid and Sebastian exchange guilty looks.

Despite this guilt, Sebastian sits up straight, holds up a finger, and opens his mouth as if to counter his father's claim, when Sir Geoffrey interrupts him to continue.

"But the problem is that training at the academy will be quite intense. And I fear that the challenges posed by this whole endeavor may just do him in."

"You realize that I'm sitting right here, Father," Sebastian laments.

"I'm quite aware of that fact, Sebastian!" Sir Geoffrey snaps back. "Don't get cheeky on me!"

"Well, ignoring me is not exactly a vote of confidence," Sebastian grumbles under his breath.

Sir Geoffrey shoots Sebastian a look to silence him once and for all.

He turns back to Farid. "Now, Farid, you must keep your brother on the straight-and-narrow. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Farid nods. "I do, Father."

"Good. Because this venture the High Council is embarking on is very important to everyone involved," Sir Geoffrey continues. "So, Sebastian has to succeed. In fact, you both have to succeed in order not to bring shame upon our family. And in terms of the higher cause, if peace is to last and all the races are to band together, we must set an example for our people as well as for the rest of the Otherworlder realm."

Farid refrains from chafing under his father's authoritative tendencies as Sir Geoffrey places a firm hand on his son's shoulder and looks him dead in the eyes.

"Son," he says with the gravity of a Shakespearean actor. "I'm counting on you. The family is counting on you to do what needs to be done. To do what's asked of you without question or complaint."

***

Later in Sir Geoffrey's study, he hands his aide, Saunders, a stack of papers, papers he's been reviewing and signing for the past half hour.

"Where are we with the Broussards?" he asks Saunders testily.

Saunders bends over and carefully picks up the completed stack of signed papers and effortlessly begins handing Sir Geoffrey more papers from a different stack, almost as thick as the first.

Sir Geoffrey looks at them and sighs.

"They've committed to backing you when the Council seat opens up again," Saunders replies. "With them, you should have all the votes you need to be a Lord Councilor by winter."

"Good. Very good," Sir Geoffrey says with a devious chuckle. "It's unfortunate that it will take Sir Peter's incapacity to open up the opportunity, but what can you do?" He shrugs his shoulder callously as he signs his final document with a flourish.

"It was rather sad to hear how Sir Peter's cold suddenly took a turn for the worse," Saunders says as he scoops up the finished pile.

"Colds can be tricky that way," Sir Geoffrey shares a knowing glance with Saunders as the aide slips the signed papers into his briefcase.

Sir Geoffrey leans back in his chair and laces his hands behind his head. "What else?" he asks.

"The quarterly numbers will be coming in tomorrow," Saunders says as he tucks his briefcase under his arm. "All signs indicate that profits are up across the board."

"Excellent!" Sir Geoffrey crows. "That's what I like to hear." He smiles. "Anything else?"

Saunders opens his mouth, pauses, closes it, then opens his mouth again and asks, "May I speak freely, sir?"

With a nod and a wave of his hand, Sir Geoffrey grants him permission.

Saunders sucks in a deep breath, lets it out, and says, "I have tried, honestly, I have tried my very best, but I simply cannot fathom why you would send your sons to an integrated school with--of all things--Shifters? Enchanteds, I understand, if that's how it must be, but Shifters, sir? Really?"

Sir Geoffrey chuckles. "Oh, Saunders," he says, "don't ever let your prejudice get in the way of gaining a tactical advantage." His smile widens. "If the High Council believes that we can train these young recruits to be soldiers in the war against the Demon Horde, who am I to stop them?" He spreads his hands. "For me, this venture has a much more valuable purpose. With the way the Academy is conducting their military training--with each race having to learn the fighting strengths and weaknesses of the other--we finally have the opportunity to learn our true enemies' Achilles' heel. Why on earth would we pass up on that?"

"And you don't fear for your sons, sir?" Saunders inquires, truly concerned.

Sir Geoffrey shakes his head as he flips up his hand as if to brush away all of Saunder's concerns. "There have only been a few verified Demon sightings, Saunders. And I'm certain, the rest of the missing Otherworlders being reported to the Council are junkies or vagrants gone missing. The High Council has exaggerated this entire Demon threat merely to try and force a re-integration of the races. It's all very political and mostly a waste of time. But as I said, there are still advantages to be had. Like having both of my sons at the Academy, for example. That will certainly put me in good stead with the Lord Councilors. And also once this whole endeavor collapses and we're back at war again, given the amount of resources that will be needed to sustain it, our family will be poised to reap all the benefits."

"And Sebastian?" Saunders asks. "You believe he's capable of gathering all of the intelligence you need?"

"Sebastian?" Sir Geoffrey scoffs. "Oh, good Lord, no! That boy is a disaster waiting to happen." He sighs. "No, Sebastian's merely a means to an end. You see, I needed to offer a First Son up to the High Council in order for them to take me seriously. But, no, this wasn't about Sebastian and his abilities... or lack of abilities more like it." Sir Geoffrey tilts his head and looks curiously at his aide, "Why is it, do you think, that I insisted Farid accompany his brother to the school?"

Saunders shrugs, admitting his ignorance to his boss' plan.

Leaning back in his chair, Sir Geoffrey says, "It's because Farid is the one I trust. He's the one who can get the job done. He's the one who will get us the information we need."