"Very nicely done Michael, especially that one-liner! What was it again? 'No mom, think about what you're doing?' Oh, it was something like that," he chortled. Michael smiled tiredly.
"Shut up Stephen, you're full of crap. But thanks for the save."
"No problem bro. We got your back," the young man in front of him said.
"Good, Ben, because I have another favor to ask of you. I'm gonna need somewhere to stay..." Michael hinted, cracking a sheepish smile.
Ben sighed but smiled in reply. Stephen rolled his eyes at the request, as if the favor not even be said.
"Well, I'm sure our mother won't mind another mouth to feed, after all, she hates you," Stephen smiled, his sarcasm and emphasis on another making Michael chuckle quietly.
"Indeed, with four boys you would have thought 'Oh, enough with the testosterone'," Ben joined in.
The boys made their way around the cliff, passing quietly by a fisherman who barely noticed the flying lads, and landed on a bank about two kilometers from where the cliff had been. Ben pulled out a backpack, and as Michael winced, stuffed his broom in, followed neatly by his brothers.
"I hate it when you do that, Ben, one day you're gonna mistake your bag for one that isn't enchanted," Michael said.
"Hasn't happened yet," Ben winked.
They trudged along, clambering up a two meter sandy slope, and stopped when they saw a glittering silver ball, about the size of a walnut, embedded in an old tree nearby. Ben went forth, checking around to make sure there wasn't anyone else in sight, and he tapped the sphere with a sleek, bluish-black wand he whipped from his jacket. It started to leak two lines of silver, and formed a perfect downwards-facing parabola in the tree, stopping when it met the grass around the trunk. A light filled the parabola, and in it could be seen a cozy (if not messy) living room. A shout could be heard from inside, a lazy but insistent call.
"'Ey, mom! Twins are back!"
Ben turned to Michael, who had his arms crossed and eyebrows knitted into a furrow.
"I refuse to go through there, you know I hate these damn portals."
"Shut up Stephen, you're full of crap. But thanks for the save."
"No problem bro. We got your back," the young man in front of him said.
"Good, Ben, because I have another favor to ask of you. I'm gonna need somewhere to stay..." Michael hinted, cracking a sheepish smile.
Ben sighed but smiled in reply. Stephen rolled his eyes at the request, as if the favor not even be said.
"Well, I'm sure our mother won't mind another mouth to feed, after all, she hates you," Stephen smiled, his sarcasm and emphasis on another making Michael chuckle quietly.
"Indeed, with four boys you would have thought 'Oh, enough with the testosterone'," Ben joined in.
The boys made their way around the cliff, passing quietly by a fisherman who barely noticed the flying lads, and landed on a bank about two kilometers from where the cliff had been. Ben pulled out a backpack, and as Michael winced, stuffed his broom in, followed neatly by his brothers.
"I hate it when you do that, Ben, one day you're gonna mistake your bag for one that isn't enchanted," Michael said.
"Hasn't happened yet," Ben winked.
They trudged along, clambering up a two meter sandy slope, and stopped when they saw a glittering silver ball, about the size of a walnut, embedded in an old tree nearby. Ben went forth, checking around to make sure there wasn't anyone else in sight, and he tapped the sphere with a sleek, bluish-black wand he whipped from his jacket. It started to leak two lines of silver, and formed a perfect downwards-facing parabola in the tree, stopping when it met the grass around the trunk. A light filled the parabola, and in it could be seen a cozy (if not messy) living room. A shout could be heard from inside, a lazy but insistent call.
"'Ey, mom! Twins are back!"
Ben turned to Michael, who had his arms crossed and eyebrows knitted into a furrow.
"I refuse to go through there, you know I hate these damn portals."
