When they wake up, there is a short boy in nice clothes staring at them from where he sits in the shade of a large boulder.

"You're on the coast of Elannwy," says the boy, in perfect Welchin. "Where did you mean to be?"

Nior grins. "I have a twin. He doesn't do a very good me but I do a perfect him, so while we don't swap exactly, sometimes I duplicate him for a bit. His name's Miraen."

"Weird. Neat."

His grin... shifts, in some subtle way, and he gives a little half-bow, moving with a fluid comfort and a sense of energy that was entirely absent a second ago. "Miraen Kyres, pleased to meet you."

Then he drops back into his previous self - characterized by a quiet, watchful stillness, a lack of unnecessary movements - and adds, "Like that. The real one's back at the beach house if you and your sleepy friend would like to meet him. I should probably take you back there anyway so you don't starve to death out here."

"Um. Yeah. I- we should do that, anyway, we're concussed and stuff. Should get... whatever you do for concussions."

"Watched while you sleep in case you spontaneously die. I was already doing that," says Nior.

Harin pokes him with a stick. A few times. "Wake up, jerk."

Arlen flaps his hands disgruntledly. "Up, up! Hurts."

"Your own damn fault, you crashed us in some weird adventureland and you're concussed. Get up so I stop poking you."

"Nior Kyres," says this kid. "Pleased to meet you. The house is this way."

Arlen sets off, wobbling somewhat but with admirable equilibrium. "Good t'meet you. Arlen. Or Ari. How old are you, anyways, you're short even for somebody who isn't standing next to the tree here."

"I'm twelve. Short and twelve," he says.

"Goddamn."

"And I'm tall and twelve, and he's slightly less tall and ten."

"And my brother is precisely as short as I am and only a tiny bit more twelve."

"Is this a thing, in shipwreck adventureland? Is everyone tiny? Will I have to duck to get through doors?"

"No, we're just very unlucky. You'll be fine."

"Ah. Um, sorry. For some reason I kind of expected it to be an 'everyone is tiny' thing. I mention I'm concussed?"

"You did say that."

Arlen peers at Nior as best he can with his vaguely unfocused eyes. "What are your blessings? You're not wearing them, unless that... weird squiggly one is... what is that. What the hell kind of blessing is that?"

"This is Elannwy. We have different elemental blessings here. Most countries don't have them at all. This," he taps the silver pin on his sleeve, "is complexity. My brother and I have it in common. He's charm/inspiration/complexity; I'm understanding/focus/complexity."

"Gross. That's weird. I'm joy and beauty and strength. Normal blessings. I like them. The hell is complexity, anyway."

"No worse than 'synthesis'. I'm power, clarity, and loyalty. Don't be a dick, Ari, we're the weird foreigners here."

"Are not."

"My mother is Welchin, as I mentioned. Her blessings are flexibility, resilience, and travel; is that normal enough for you?"

"Yes. Yes, it is. Very coru, is she coru? My ma was coru. Though she might not be the best example of the breed."

"Incredibly coru. And Father's incredibly hunti. They make quite a pair."

Arlen wobbles over and hugs him, trying very hard not to look exasperated with his friend's inability to instantly recover from six years of severe trauma.

"Mm. Sorry," says Nior. "My brother's crowned sweela too, but he's coru underneath. Oceans of it. We take after Mother that way."

"Coru's a good element. You guys seem nice."

"What a nice house," says Arlen, yawning. "Does it have beds."

"Probably, yes. Beds that we are not going to sleep in, because we might die."

A boy who looks remarkably like Nior sticks his head out of an upper-floor window and peers down at them.

Nior waves.

The boy in the window yells down a question in some language that sounds plausibly related to Welchin but not related enough to be understandable.

"Concussed adventurers!" replies Nior cheerfully.

"Concussed adventurers from Welce?"

"We had a boat!" Harin explains. "Your beach murdered it!"

"I'll have my revenge!"

"Please don't murder my beach!" says the boy in the window. "I like my beach!"

"Um. You're welcome," says Nior. After a slight pause it occurs to him to hug back.

"He does this," says Harin. "D'you not like hugs? He can be trained away if you like."

"I'm extremely trainable!"

"I was just. Surprised," says Nior. "It's fine." He glances up at his twin and adds, "Don't lean so far out of the window, Mir."

Miraen rolls his eyes, but retracts to a safer position.

Arlen enters the house to better communicate with Miraen. New friends! He has three whole friends now, that's crazy!

Nior helpfully leads them up to Miraen's room.

"Arlen Kallem and Harin Dochenza," he says, indicating each. "And this, as you may have gathered, is my brother Miraen."

"Hi! What's up with your legs?"

"I broke them. It happens."

"Oh, neat! Can I touch them? Ma never let me touch my broken legs, she just called in old Serlast."

"...Why do you want to touch them?"

"I wanna see what they feel like!"

Harin sighs. "It's not like they snapped in half, Ari. It's probably just a little crack. Also, people generally don't like broken bones."

"People are weird."

"I'm not unwrapping my broken legs so you can poke them. They're almost done healing enough that I can walk on them again. Another three days or so."

Arlen pouts. "Can I touch them then?"

"Why?"

"Ionno. Legs are cool."

"Next time I break a bone, you can touch it," volunteers Nior.

"Well, if he's going spare."

"The spare Kyres, that's me," he snorts. "Anyway, what were you doing that ended up getting you shipwrecked on the coast of Elannwy?"

"He inherited a little sailboat when his mum died; we went sailing. There was a storm."

"We almost died a bunch of times!"

"Sounds thrilling."

"Don't let him fool you into thinking he's the responsible twin," Nior advises. "Shall I tell them how you broke your legs, Miraen?"

"It was perfectly reasonable to try to climb that hill, I just slipped is all."

"Climbing hills is primo adventuring," declares Arlen. "You're alright."

"I'm sorry, I'm still confused at the idea of a 'responsible twin'. Does one of you turn into him by the light of the new moon? Are you secretly triplets, hiding him in the attic?"

"Hey! I'm perfectly responsible!"

Harin gives him a very patient look.

"I avoid breaking my legs! If I wanted broken legs, I know where to get some."

"Both very reasonable points of view. Personally I also dislike broken legs."

"Is the place you can go to get your legs broken me? Because that would be a lot of fun. Please update your list of leg-breaking options."

Nior giggles. "I like you. Let's be friends."

This is acceptable. Nior hugs him.

"Nior has made a friend. Are you nervous? I'm nervous," says Miraen to Harin, only mostly joking.

"Really, Arlen's already shipwrecked me in a forgotten kingdom, so I'm not sure how he could possibly top that, with or without your brother's help. You, on the other hand, are right to fear."

"I admit, Nior hasn't shipwrecked me in any foreign kingdoms. Yet."

"Well, as with broken bones, you know where to go for it if you feel the need. Specifically Arlen, apparently in both cases."

Miraen giggles.

"I wonder if there's some way to turn Harin into a steed of some kind for tiny people with broken legs," muses Ari. "Some sort of special back-harness. Or a little chair. His tallness should be used for good, is what I'm saying."

"If I'm going to be carried around I'd rather it be by someone a little less tall, so I stand less chance of breaking yet more bones if I fall off," says Miraen. "No offense, Harin."

"None taken. Maybe we should attach it to Arlen instead, he's got a respectable tallness quotient himself."

"I'm no pack mule!" cries Arlen indignantly.

"But I am. I see how it is."

Ari nods happily. "Good!"

"Then I guess I just won't get to ride around on a tall person."

"If you like you can piggyback on me once you've healed and we don't need a special harness or something. I'm full willing to carry small persons, but I can't imagine broken legs would make that comfortable."

"Broken legs aren't known for making things comfortable, it's true."

"They're fun, though. In my experience."

"What kind of experience makes broken legs fun?"

Miraen gives Harin a 'please translate your bizarre friend' sort of look.

Harin shrugs. "He likes a lot of stuff that hurts. And I think some of it he associates with playing with his mum. Which is its own whole issue that I don't need to get into right now. Oh, and she always had the Serlast prime fix his bones when they broke, and they lived nearby, so he was never out of commission more than a few hours any given time unless he was on business or something."

"That does make sense," says Miraen. "There aren't any primes in Elannwy, so I have to heal the long way. It's highly inconvenient."

"As did I. Less because he wasn't available and more because Dad had, uh, his own opinions on broken legs."

"That sounds unpleasant."

"His dad was an asshole. S'why Mom killed him. Not that she wasn't an asshole, or anything."

"Yes, which very neatly explains why she's dead too."

"Yep!"

"Congratulations."

"Thanks!" Arlen sketches a quick bow.

Arlen eats like the animal he is; Harin has some residual manners from his terrible dad, but only just. Also, he eats a truly terrifying amount of food.

There's enough.

"Did you make this?" asks Harin eventually. "It's really good!"

"I did, thank you."

"Mm?"

"Nothing."

Nior looks at Arlen in case Arlen has useful commentary.

Harin looks immeasurably uncomfortable, and squirms in his chair.

Arlen nods decisively and turns to Nior. "He wants you to teach him how to cook but he doesn't wanna say it because he thinks it sounds dumb and he doesn't like himself. That's kinda how most of him works."

"I know the feeling," says Nior. "I'll teach you if you like. I don't know how good a teacher I am, but I can try."

Arlen gives each of them a quick hug.

Arlen deliberates, then decides that Harin is currently more in need of and in better shape to support snuggles. He climbs Harin and continues hugging him until further notice.

"Good! I want to meet her, you've made her sound very nice."

"She is."

Ari nods happily.

"Harin, want to come learn how to cook?"

Harin has a tendency to try to do things without asking for clarification if he doesn't understand them, but he gains confidence as he goes. (Arlen, lounging on various nearby surfaces, assists with this unprompted.)

They successfully produce a batch of cookies!

"Uh, 'ship' may be overstating it. More of a sailboat. There wouldn't have been much room for anyone else, really."

"Ma left it behind when she died under mysterious circumstances!" adds Arlen.

"Did she," says Carielle. "My condolences."

"Thanks!"

"Well. Welcome to Elannwy. You're lucky you fetched up on our beach; anywhere else and you'd have a hard time finding someone who spoke your language."

"I'm feeling lucky, yeah. And, um, thanks for... raising your sons to be the kind of people who let us stay in your beach house? I guess? You didn't- I'm giving up on that sentence. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"So, can we keep staying here? Because it's nice, and your sons are nice, and Nior's going to teach Harin to cook, and Miraen may want me to give him a piggyback ride sometime in the future, so we've kind of settled in, and all."

"You certainly can."

"So," Arlen goes on matter-of-factly, "are we just going to be living here or are you declaring us your tall children? Because we're okay with either, really, it's a matter of personal choice, though getting adopted would keep me from marrying Nior when we grow up, which would be a shame."

(Nior blushes faintly.)

"Of course I wouldn't dream of preventing you from marrying Nior," says Carielle.

"Excellent! Still doesn't really answer the question, though."

"I think she might need more than five minutes to think about it, Ar."

"If I were going to officially adopt you I would also need to consult my husband, who isn't here. Unofficially, you're welcome in my family even if you think my sons are too marriageable to make good siblings."

"You're welcome."

Arlen hugs everyone a few more times, because Harin is traumatized and Carielle is taking them in and Nior is cute when he's blushing. Then he scampers off to inform Mir that his mom is here.

When Mir sees Ari scamper into his room, the first thing he says is, "Oh, is Mother home?"

"She is! And she's great, and she says she might adopt us when your dad exists again! D'you want me to carry you downstairs? We're all in the kitchen."

"Nah, I'm sure she'll come up and say hello eventually."

"Hey, Possibly Mom, Miraen's upstairs and his legs are still broken, should we shift upwards?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Arlen induces Harin to carry him, as this is his second time going up the stairs in as many minutes. And he was sprinting the other time. Harin carries him dutifully.

Up they go.

Miraen is still looking slightly befuddled.

"Hi! Sorry for not coming up before, everything got, um, a little hectic."

Shrug. "Don't worry about it. Hello, Mother."

"Hello, dear." She goes over to his comfortable chair and leans down to hug him. "Have you been staying out of trouble?"

"How much trouble can I possibly get into with two broken legs?"

"I'd be just as happy to never find out."

"Technically, you could call letting two strange tall children stay in your house 'trouble'," notes Harin.

"You could, but Miraen wasn't the one who got into it."

"Fair. I'm not complaining, at any rate."

"Me neither," contributes Miraen. "I like these strange tall children."

"They are strange tall children of the highest quality."

"And you're excellent short children."

In lieu of saying something adorable, Arlen elects to simply flop onto the floor and hug Nior's leg.

Nior hugs Arlen.

It's all very nice!

"Fuck yes!"

"Yeah!"

"Sure," says Nior. "Where?"

"I was thinking that cave we found."

"Caves!"

"Yeah!"

"Should I bring my Adventure Kit? S'got, like, flint and knives and hardtack and stuff."

"Yeah, definitely. Nior, figure out what to bring on a cave-exploring expedition and then go find it."

"Will do." Off he goes to gather equipment.

"Remember to bring my knives too, Harin. And your stick, you're better with the stick anyway. Oh, and-"

"Ar, all of those things are in the kit. We put it together a week ago. You remember this."

"I don't want you forgetting my knives if something needs stabbed, is all. I'm taking precautions."

"I don't think anything in the caves will require stabbing. But you never know with caves."

"What if there's a bear? Harin beats it with the stick, I stab it in the kidneys, we skin it and make a coat. Bang, new coat."

"Ambitious plan. I like it."

"We'll see if we can get another bear for you, then. If it's a decently big one we could get two coats in your size, one for Nior!"

"Neither of us knows anything about how to make a coat, Arlen."

Arlen waves a hand. "Maybe we can get Lady Kyres to help. I'm not the ideas man."

"Do you know how to skin a bear? I've heard it's hard."

"Yes. Ma felt skinning was an important skill to have."

"...Okay then."

"I was learning to hunt and we killed a deer and she taught me how to skin it. And she had some other animals brought to the estate so I could learn the principle. It was fun!"

"What a charming domestic tale."

Miraen sighs. "Sorry. I wasn't - I'm not as good at Nior as he is at me."

"I said the exact same thing Nior would've, but I didn't say it right. And I don't know quite how to explain what I meant. Just - I'm glad you got to do nice things that you liked."

"Okay."

He skips off, not showing any particular sign of having just been crying. A very resilient child, is Arlen.

"Well, that could've gone worse."

"You sure?"

"In the first place, you still have all the teeth you started with. In the second, you weren't actually saying anything against Abelind, he just thought you were for a bit. In the third, he seems to have come right back up again, so no harm, no foul."

"I'm not used to being the one who upsets people by accident. That's supposed to be Nior's job."

"Your brother's less likely to upset him than I am, Mir. I mean, mostly because Ar's planning to marry him when they grow up, but still."

"I wish them the best," he snorts.

"But if the only person you're upsetting is Arlen, you're in pretty good shape. He doesn't hold grudges, he's a very safe person to offend."

"That's good, I guess."

"Anyway, we should be packing for this adventure. Does your mom know?"

"I'll go tell her."

"I'll- I can come with you. And then get my kit and all."

"Have fun. Try not to break any limbs. It always makes you cranky."

Mir giggles and hugs his mother.

Carielle hugs Miraen, and kisses his forehead, and then gets up and hugs Harin too.

Harin looks helplessly to Miraen.

"Let's go get our stuff," he says.

"Packing supplies," he says. "Hello."

"Can I help?" asks Arlen, as he begins helping.

"No," says Nior, as he accepts the help and adjusts his packing procedure to account for it.

"You're- we're a lot alike. Everybody's nice, but you understand. I feel like you like the stuff about me that everybody else doesn't mind. I don't know what I'm trying to say. I like you."

Sigh. Hug.

"I don't mind."

"Well, we haven't looked inside yet. We were busy the first time we found them."

"A true adventure! Thrilling!"

Giggle.