Weston's steak leaked a pool of rendered juices leaving his plate vibrant. Each careful bite was like raising a flag of his families approval to his lips, the males watched with jealous admiration, and the ladies with cunning insight.

He'd done it again, proved it was no fluke. Another blood red award rested upon his cheek, and the newspaper told the story, at least the broad strokes - of course, it was his families newspaper, the Red Hills Herald -

Saviors - Heroes - Selfless Servants of the Community - And Important Friends -

Hickory and Weston were on the front page slaying demons - of course the demons had to be drawn in, since they appeared as just blurs in the photos...

But what was really happening? Humanity was slipping. Sliding. Reverting to an older time, at the Covanger dining table, you couldn't tell, but at their offices, in town, if you tried to make a phone call?

Power was out - GPS systems were failing, technology was not reliable, phones and internet were offline completely, and there were monsters...

Shadows roamed. Attacked. The world was going dark. Ammunition sold out - his cousin, Pierson, had solidly lost favor being in charge of their communication systems even if it wasn't his fault, he'd filled his entire dinner plate with salad, tonight - and the low light turned the mixed greens into a dark forest of regret -

Weston watched as Grandmother circulated the dining room, she was a large, lovely and lively woman, with the grace of a duchess and the panache of a performer, her dark hair was permed and she wore her age with a brilliant smile.

Everybody smiled with her as she moved, making sure they were all fed -

"Just salad, good, good, it's healthy for you!" She patted Pierson on the shoulder, "I give you more! Eat, eat!"

Weston looked down, not wanting to see the man's humiliation, instead staring at his own salad plate. He'd eaten near half what he'd put on there already - for who was perfect? Bites of the undressed, bitter greens forced down between his savory steak made it bearable.

"Weston, just look at you!" Weston jerked his attention up, saw his Grandmother's smiling face, her twinkling eyes -

Had he missed something? Had he disappointed?

"I hardly believed it when I saw that picture, running about in just the underthings!" Some members of the family chuckled, a few laughed - "It's not something you see everyday!"

Ah - impropriety, of course - Weston caught some of the delighted looks, some enjoyed seeing the salad delivered -

"I nearly fainted seeing Grandfather opening that paper, I said, I said to myself -"

Weston blushed, he put on a twisted grin, and raised his salad plate above his head - to accept his own shame -

"How is that boy not married! He's so handsome! It's because he's too skinny! You eat too much salad," Grandmother said taking his plate and dumping it in the bowl -

Weston heard the laughter strain -

"Grandmother will fatten you up!" She laughed and kissed his other cheek - Weston hardly felt the plate land back in his hands, and he lowered it to the table - tightening his grip to keep his hands from shaking - "You save the salad for the ones that need it!"

She moved, and those that had been laughing a moment ago sipped water, watched as their salad plates got a heavy scoop of greens...always with a joke, a compliment, a smile from Grandmother - as she imparted the leaves.

He'd earned his second kiss - he was equal to his father? Weston didn't even realize he was doing it until the hum of conversation softened, he'd been staring at his empty salad plate - thinking about his family, his accomplishment, feeling his pride -

They were jealous - it truly was unprecedented. Not in generations, not so close together, and never so quickly, at his age...?

The room went silent, Grandmother's grand gestures paused and Weston looked up - saw them staring, and in the reflection of his wineglass saw his Crown. A blue flame licked around his head, like a ring of candles - a wish granted

A kiss on each cheek - and he felt his pride pulling his head up higher, his chin out as he took control of it, balanced it -

Using his power had not been intentional - but, as he looked in that reflection, how - how regal. How refined.

'Judge a man by his shadow.' Weston had no shadow right now - not that they could see with that soft light brighter then the table's candles, the incandescence lowered for an elegant meal.

He left his face impassive - only Grandfather and Grandmother could openly rebuke him now and they were silent - slowly he let the crown recede, not sputter, but like a lantern turned down, then off. He was getting better - and it was also better for the family to think the showing was intentional, as well...

Conversation slowly resumed, few eyes met Weston's own. His father's did, and it was a new look, a calculating look, the sort of look he gave his brothers. His cousins.

It was a warning, in a way - not that Weston ever expected his father to have his best interests, now that he was no longer an asset and competition instead, it was all for the family. Serving the family served all.

And the families needs would be served by the Best -

In the study, after dinner - Weston spoke first, gave his report on the events, the daily fighting, the closing of incursions.

But they knew all that, that wasn't what they wanted to hear...

"The buildings that will be going up are related to crafting now that the hatchery is upgraded, Cory Schafer has a coyote interfering with his chickens and -"

"What?" His Grand-Uncle asked.

Weston took a breath, and forced himself to repeat the ridiculous, kept his manner professional -

"It could also be a fox." Weston finished, as the most powerful men of his family stared, "This, he feels, is currently the biggest problem and his resources are going toward exterminating them."

"Is he mad?"

Speaking about Cory was difficult, his family couldn't understand him, Weston struggled himself, but -

"No, not mad, just different goals, Cory doesn't realize yet how much power he possesses. He is completely isolated - he's never owned a phone or computer, and from what I have gleaned has perhaps a fourth grade reading level. He's been homeschooled almost his entire life and not in the public system long enough to accurately gauge his capabilities."

Most of them knew this already, they had his school records - spys, trying to interfere, not that they would dare, now. He wondered if that was the primary reason for his rapid promotion, not just his success. By making him unequivocally responsible for Hickory - it insured no competing members compromised his moves -

"So he's an idiot."

Look in the mirror, Uncle -

Weston kept his face impassive, "Uneducated. I think it would be an er- "

"He's putting the - these 'faith powers' to use for fish! For chickens!"

"At least he'll be easier to maneuver..."

"Can he be bribed? What if we - uh, offered to exterminate the fox. We need communications."

"Good will is the most important thing I can do." Weston spoke over the voices, "With the limited information we have - we know Red Hills has more structures then our neighboring towns, that from the reports of refugees we have been fortunate and until we regain communications or mount a safe expedition..."

Weston's gaze moved to Pierson - we'll speak later - then resumed.

"This is largely do to him closing these incursions, either they were ignored by others or they died trying but my thought is most were working on building a power structure when Cory became the power, there was no sign from other settlements that they were actively closing them and that would explain why their attacks were so much fiercer."

They stared at him, surprised faces for his audacity - and Weston was grateful, for the two blood red marks - on his cheeks, a fresh reminder of his authority -

"Cory has a strong sense of what is right, even if it's convoluted, he keeps his own counsel, he can not be bought. I erred, thinking the hatchery was a foolish choice except the electricity didn't return - was this his stop gap to mitigate food shortages? He rides a bicycle, though he has agreed to purchase a dirt bike from me for marbles. He has a strong sense of self-reliance and independence that makes him difficult to maneuver. What I have surmised is he has grown up with little, though why, I'm not sure as his residence is not humble - though I'm probing financials and relationships to-"

His Grandfather's chair squeaked - "No."

Weston's chair made a solid thunk as he dropped himself into it -

"You made the right choice pursuing good will, the principles serve you. Don't jeopardize it."

Weston nodded, took a sip of bourbon, "Yes, Sir."

"As a family, we have not faced a new power within our territory for generations, they haven't existed. We can not have bad blood with this child."

There was a - a heaviness to the pronouncement. A stillness.

"Glean what you can from the relationship and nurture it. Be a man."

Weston blushed - He didn't have a woman or he would have! But Grandfather was right, he'd known he'd overstepped but seeing her -

He reigned in his impulse to complain, to criticize, he'd already had his actions feminized, acting childish would only increase attention and call into question his grasp of the situation. He took another sip of bourbon, leaned back in the plush chair and listened to his uncles discuss Cory, strategies, the resources Weston would need to maximize his position - and chickens.

Because the world was slipping back in time, and they didn't have to discuss the goals, they positioned themselves and made advantageous moves like always, they were oil barons, and because of course this was an emergency.

An opportunity.

Barons -

This time Weston kept his Covanger Crown from materializing; it was always there - always had been, the Font only seemed to reveal one's nature - ones emotion, or was it something deeper? Was it truly the spirit - as they claimed? He was learning to understand it. Learning to control it.

He looked to the left, saw his father, just his granduncles ahead of him Grandfather at the top and cousins already far behind. The next kiss would be on his forehead - and one day, when Grandfather passed - Weston would be covered in them.

They would follow him into the Study.

The Covanger.