The Birthday Ride Through Time
The evening began with a glow in the sky that did not belong to any century.
A turquoise spiral unfurled above the treetops, peeling open the night like a cosmic curtain. Light pooled down the trunks, shimmering off wet bark and moss as the time-traveling carriage rolled forward, drawn by its two impossibly dignified steeds: Oscar, the eternally unimpressed black stallion, and Walt, the soft-eyed white horse who seemed to sigh poetry with every step.
Inside the carriage, Andy held the reins with the kind of casual confidence a man only gains after years of driving through historical catastrophes. Fin sat beside him, shoulder brushing his, silver hair catching the strange luminescence of the rift.
“Did you set it to Scotland?” Fin asked, eyebrow arched.
“Or did you set it to dramatic?”
Andy smirked. “It’s the Highlands. They come with drama. Like kilts, rain, and your taste in men.”
Fin nudged him, lips twitching.
“You’re lucky the rift hasn’t thrown you into a bog.”
Behind them, Oscar snorted so loudly the carriage rattled. Walt exhaled in a long, elegant sigh, the equine equivalent of an eye roll.
Then the world dissolved into swirling blue.
The trees vanished.
The earth dropped.
The sky folded in on itself.
And when everything settled, the smell of wet heather, peat smoke, and cold rain filled the air.
They had arrived.
---
The carriage rolled down a narrow, slick path toward a vast, mist-shrouded loch. Rain drifted in silver sheets over the water. A ruined castle perched on a far hill like a memory clinging to stone.
Fin leaned forward, lips parted in awe.
“So this is eighteenth-century Scotland…”
His voice was soft, full of wonder.
Andy watched him instead of the scenery for half a heartbeat.
“It’s beautiful,” Fin whispered.
“Yeah,” Andy murmured, eyes warm. “It is.”
The carriage slowed as Oscar and Walt approached the shore. The water was smooth, eerily smooth, until a single ripple shivered across it.
Fin sat up straighter.
“She’s here,” Andy said quietly.
Another ripple.
Then another.
Oscar flattened his ears and attempted to reverse.
Andy tugged the reins. “Absolutely not. Behave.”
Walt stepped forward with the calm dignity of a horse who’d seen far worse and remained profoundly unimpressed.
The loch bulged.
Water churned.
And with a low, resonant hum, the Loch Ness Monster rose from the depths.
Her neck arched elegantly from the water, droplets cascading down emerald scales etched with glowing Celtic knotwork. Her eyes, enormous, ancient, curious, fixed on Fin as though she had been waiting for him.
Fin’s breath caught.
“Oh… wow.”
Nessie crooned, the sound low and melodic, vibrating through the rain.
“Is she… singing at me?” Fin asked, grinning.
“She’s flirting,” Andy said with a smirk.
Fin elbowed him.
“Jealous?”
“Of a prehistoric water serpent?” Andy scoffed. “Please, she's barking up the wrong tree, and I’m far prettier.”
Nessie flicked her tail in the water, splashing Oscar directly in the face.
Oscar snorted, offended on a level usually reserved for bards who rhyme “love” with “above.”
Fin laughed so hard he grabbed Andy’s arm, shoulders shaking.
The rain eased, turning softer, almost warm. The lantern on the carriage cast a golden pool of light over the scene. Nessie dipped her head, a slow, deliberate bow that spoke of something ancient and sacred.
Fin grew quiet.
“She's taken a liking to you,” Andy said gently.
Fin looked at him, eyes soft.
“And you?”
"Way more than a liking," Andy swallowed, “and more than anything.”
Walt flicked an ear, as if in agreement.
Oscar pretended not to care.
Nessie hummed again, low and approving.
Fin’s hand brushed Andy’s, a simple touch, small but full of meaning, and Andy turned his palm up to meet it.
Two silver-haired men in kilts, sitting side by side in a storm-lit carriage, sharing a moment that felt carved into time itself.
For a long while, none of them spoke.
Not the men, not the horses, not the creature watching them with glowing eyes.
Then Fin exhaled softly.
“So… am I allowed to keep my prehistoric pet now?”
“No,” Andy said instantly. “You already have a Lightning Sorcerer, and the cats would be upset.”
Fin grinned.
“You’re not a Sorcerer.”
Andy arched a brow.
“Cubby. I literally drove us through time.”
After a beat, Fin conceded.
“…okay, that’s fair.”
Nessie let out a gentle huff, almost a laugh, sending ripples spiraling across the water.
The rain fell lightly.
The Highlands breathed around them.
And the time-travelling carriage rested at the edge of the loch, as if even the universe knew this moment was meant to linger.
Fin leaned gently against Andy’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“For all of this.”
Andy smiled quietly.
“Anything for my Sonne.”
And somewhere across the water, the creature of legend bowed her head once more, blessing the birthday of the man who had, somehow, made even a monster rise from the depths to wish him joy.
A turquoise spiral unfurled above the treetops, peeling open the night like a cosmic curtain. Light pooled down the trunks, shimmering off wet bark and moss as the time-traveling carriage rolled forward, drawn by its two impossibly dignified steeds: Oscar, the eternally unimpressed black stallion, and Walt, the soft-eyed white horse who seemed to sigh poetry with every step.
Inside the carriage, Andy held the reins with the kind of casual confidence a man only gains after years of driving through historical catastrophes. Fin sat beside him, shoulder brushing his, silver hair catching the strange luminescence of the rift.
“Did you set it to Scotland?” Fin asked, eyebrow arched.
“Or did you set it to dramatic?”
Andy smirked. “It’s the Highlands. They come with drama. Like kilts, rain, and your taste in men.”
Fin nudged him, lips twitching.
“You’re lucky the rift hasn’t thrown you into a bog.”
Behind them, Oscar snorted so loudly the carriage rattled. Walt exhaled in a long, elegant sigh, the equine equivalent of an eye roll.
Then the world dissolved into swirling blue.
The trees vanished.
The earth dropped.
The sky folded in on itself.
And when everything settled, the smell of wet heather, peat smoke, and cold rain filled the air.
They had arrived.
---
The carriage rolled down a narrow, slick path toward a vast, mist-shrouded loch. Rain drifted in silver sheets over the water. A ruined castle perched on a far hill like a memory clinging to stone.
Fin leaned forward, lips parted in awe.
“So this is eighteenth-century Scotland…”
His voice was soft, full of wonder.
Andy watched him instead of the scenery for half a heartbeat.
“It’s beautiful,” Fin whispered.
“Yeah,” Andy murmured, eyes warm. “It is.”
The carriage slowed as Oscar and Walt approached the shore. The water was smooth, eerily smooth, until a single ripple shivered across it.
Fin sat up straighter.
“She’s here,” Andy said quietly.
Another ripple.
Then another.
Oscar flattened his ears and attempted to reverse.
Andy tugged the reins. “Absolutely not. Behave.”
Walt stepped forward with the calm dignity of a horse who’d seen far worse and remained profoundly unimpressed.
The loch bulged.
Water churned.
And with a low, resonant hum, the Loch Ness Monster rose from the depths.
Her neck arched elegantly from the water, droplets cascading down emerald scales etched with glowing Celtic knotwork. Her eyes, enormous, ancient, curious, fixed on Fin as though she had been waiting for him.
Fin’s breath caught.
“Oh… wow.”
Nessie crooned, the sound low and melodic, vibrating through the rain.
“Is she… singing at me?” Fin asked, grinning.
“She’s flirting,” Andy said with a smirk.
Fin elbowed him.
“Jealous?”
“Of a prehistoric water serpent?” Andy scoffed. “Please, she's barking up the wrong tree, and I’m far prettier.”
Nessie flicked her tail in the water, splashing Oscar directly in the face.
Oscar snorted, offended on a level usually reserved for bards who rhyme “love” with “above.”
Fin laughed so hard he grabbed Andy’s arm, shoulders shaking.
The rain eased, turning softer, almost warm. The lantern on the carriage cast a golden pool of light over the scene. Nessie dipped her head, a slow, deliberate bow that spoke of something ancient and sacred.
Fin grew quiet.
“She's taken a liking to you,” Andy said gently.
Fin looked at him, eyes soft.
“And you?”
"Way more than a liking," Andy swallowed, “and more than anything.”
Walt flicked an ear, as if in agreement.
Oscar pretended not to care.
Nessie hummed again, low and approving.
Fin’s hand brushed Andy’s, a simple touch, small but full of meaning, and Andy turned his palm up to meet it.
Two silver-haired men in kilts, sitting side by side in a storm-lit carriage, sharing a moment that felt carved into time itself.
For a long while, none of them spoke.
Not the men, not the horses, not the creature watching them with glowing eyes.
Then Fin exhaled softly.
“So… am I allowed to keep my prehistoric pet now?”
“No,” Andy said instantly. “You already have a Lightning Sorcerer, and the cats would be upset.”
Fin grinned.
“You’re not a Sorcerer.”
Andy arched a brow.
“Cubby. I literally drove us through time.”
After a beat, Fin conceded.
“…okay, that’s fair.”
Nessie let out a gentle huff, almost a laugh, sending ripples spiraling across the water.
The rain fell lightly.
The Highlands breathed around them.
And the time-travelling carriage rested at the edge of the loch, as if even the universe knew this moment was meant to linger.
Fin leaned gently against Andy’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“For all of this.”
Andy smiled quietly.
“Anything for my Sonne.”
And somewhere across the water, the creature of legend bowed her head once more, blessing the birthday of the man who had, somehow, made even a monster rise from the depths to wish him joy.
Epilogue on the Hill: The Authors Depart
The rain thinned into a soft silver drift as the portal bloomed open above the slope.
Two figures tumbled out of it, landing in a heap of limbs, curses, and bruised pride.
Aiden groaned first.
“Ugh… ground. Why is it always the fucking ground?”
Maika sat up slowly, shaking rain from his silver hair like a wet, disgruntled cat.
“We were in Wales five seconds ago. This is not Wales.”
They staggered to their feet, brushing mud and dignity off their clothes, then both froze as they noticed the scene below.
At the edge of the loch, in the lantern glow, the time-traveling carriage began to vibrate with golden light. Oscar and Walt stamped the ground, manes flaring with temporal shimmer.
Inside, Andy and Fin leaned close together, silver hair glinting as the birthday rift unfurled around them.
Nessie’s luminous head rose from the loch, giving them a slow, affectionate bow.
The air pulsed.
The carriage lifted.
And with a swirl of teal, gold, and cosmic defiance, the whole thing shot upward into the rift, vanishing like a meteor made entirely of gay joy and questionable physics.
Silence.
Aiden’s mouth hung open.
Maika blinked. Once. Twice.
He rubbed his temples.
“No. Absolutely not. We are not doing this. I don't care that they write us... They are not allowed to have more dramatic flair than us.”
Aiden pointed at the sky.
“What the fuck.. Did they just.. time travel? With the horses? Again??”
“Yes,” Maika said flatly.
“And Nessie just sang to Fin.”
Aiden put both hands on his hips.
“That feels… illegal. Or at least unfair.”
Maika crossed his arms tightly.
“Well, since our authors have abandoned us here, clearly we’re meant to handle whatever new disaster is approaching.”
Aiden sniffed the air.
“It smells like… rain, moss, and emotional tension.”
“It’s Scotland,” Maika said. “Everything smells like emotional tension.”
Aiden’s ears twitched.
“Well, if we’re stuck here, at least there’s a big spooky castle over there.”
They both turned toward the looming silhouette rising through the mist:
a vast stone keep perched above the water, its towers wreathed in ghostly blue light, ancient runes faintly burning along the walls.
Aiden whistled softly.
“That place looks… fun.”
Maika stared with narrowed eyes.
“That place looks like the exact kind of trouble Grovomil would crawl out of.”
Aiden swore. Loudly. In a way that echoed pleasingly across the loch.
Maika nodded.
“Exactly.”
Aiden threw his hands up.
“I swear, if Grovomil is hiding in another mystical castle...”
“..I will personally yeet him into the loch,” Maika finished.
Nessie lifted her head slightly at the mention of violence.
Aiden waved at her.
“Don’t worry, girl. Not you.”
Nessie blinked approvingly and sank back under the surface.
Maika sighed.
“Fine. Come on. Let’s go see what fresh Avalon-flavoured nonsense we’ve inherited.”
Aiden grinned.
“Race you?”
“No.. Aiden, don’t..”
He was already sprinting through the heather.
Maika followed, swearing creatively the entire way.
And together, the two tumbled into their next adventure
a castle on the loch, a gate to Avalon,
and one very unfortunate antagonist who was about to have the worst day of his life.
To be continued, in their own adventure..
Epilogue on the Hill: The Authors Depart
The rain thinned into a soft silver drift as the portal bloomed open above the slope.
Two figures tumbled out of it, landing in a heap of limbs, curses, and bruised pride.
Aiden groaned first.
“Ugh… ground. Why is it always the fucking ground?”
Maika sat up slowly, shaking rain from his silver hair like a wet, disgruntled cat.
“We were in Wales five seconds ago. This is not Wales.”
They staggered to their feet, brushing mud and dignity off their clothes, then both froze as they noticed the scene below.
At the edge of the loch, in the lantern glow, the time-traveling carriage began to vibrate with golden light. Oscar and Walt stamped the ground, manes flaring with temporal shimmer.
Inside, Andy and Fin leaned close together, silver hair glinting as the birthday rift unfurled around them.
Nessie’s luminous head rose from the loch, giving them a slow, affectionate bow.
The air pulsed.
The carriage lifted.
And with a swirl of teal, gold, and cosmic defiance, the whole thing shot upward into the rift, vanishing like a meteor made entirely of gay joy and questionable physics.
Silence.
Aiden’s mouth hung open.
Maika blinked. Once. Twice.
He rubbed his temples.
“No. Absolutely not. We are not doing this. I don't care that they write us... They are not allowed to have more dramatic flair than us.”
Aiden pointed at the sky.
“What the fuck.. Did they just.. time travel? With the horses? Again??”
“Yes,” Maika said flatly.
“And Nessie just sang to Fin.”
Aiden put both hands on his hips.
“That feels… illegal. Or at least unfair.”
Maika crossed his arms tightly.
“Well, since our authors have abandoned us here, clearly we’re meant to handle whatever new disaster is approaching.”
Aiden sniffed the air.
“It smells like… rain, moss, and emotional tension.”
“It’s Scotland,” Maika said. “Everything smells like emotional tension.”
Aiden’s ears twitched.
“Well, if we’re stuck here, at least there’s a big spooky castle over there.”
They both turned toward the looming silhouette rising through the mist:
a vast stone keep perched above the water, its towers wreathed in ghostly blue light, ancient runes faintly burning along the walls.
Aiden whistled softly.
“That place looks… fun.”
Maika stared with narrowed eyes.
“That place looks like the exact kind of trouble Grovomil would crawl out of.”
Aiden swore. Loudly. In a way that echoed pleasingly across the loch.
Maika nodded.
“Exactly.”
Aiden threw his hands up.
“I swear, if Grovomil is hiding in another mystical castle...”
“..I will personally yeet him into the loch,” Maika finished.
Nessie lifted her head slightly at the mention of violence.
Aiden waved at her.
“Don’t worry, girl. Not you.”
Nessie blinked approvingly and sank back under the surface.
Maika sighed.
“Fine. Come on. Let’s go see what fresh Avalon-flavoured nonsense we’ve inherited.”
Aiden grinned.
“Race you?”
“No.. Aiden, don’t..”
He was already sprinting through the heather.
Maika followed, swearing creatively the entire way.
And together, the two tumbled into their next adventure
a castle on the loch, a gate to Avalon,
and one very unfortunate antagonist who was about to have the worst day of his life.
To be continued, in their own adventure..
