Chapter 7

  “Sheeva, will you marry me?” Tazaro asked boldly, despite wanting to follow through with his plan to compensate for the drastic change to the last one. To hell with the plan, he told himself, because who knew when they would have another shot?

  “I don’t have a ring yet, or a bracelet, or a...” He trailed off, staring at their reflection in the mirror for a moment. When it registered that she’d asked him to elope, his mouth popped open, and eyes widened as a zing shot through him. His face tingled, and his hairs stood on end, and the beaming grin spread on his face in an instant.

  His baffled, ready “yes?” to her request met her blindsided, graceful “yes!” to his, and he blinked for a moment, feeling the grin turn funny as circumstance set in. He turned to face her, resting his hands on her shoulder and waist, wondering if he’d fallen asleep at some point, and this was just an intense, vivid dream.

  “Wait, you really–you really want to get married?” He asked, swimming in delight and a haze of nerves.

  “Yes, I do!” She answered in an excited squeak, nose scrunched and eyes curled with exuberant joy before hiding her face behind her hands in meekness.

  He couldn’t help the scream that bellowed from his stomach and out of his chest, nor could he resist pulling her into a tight, almost crushing hug, kissing whatever he could reach of her face exposed beneath her hands. It wasn’t enough, and he lifted her up and spun, giddy and quite possibly the most love-drunk he’d ever been, aside from the moments when she encouraged him to do his silly things or simply lie around naked and comfortable in her presence.

  “Answer’s yes! Let’s go, right now! We can find an officiant and–

  –Tazaro, wait!” She called in a laugh, making him stop in his tracks as he began to pull on his pants. “It, it’s nighttime. I think they would be asleep.” She pointed out, an apologetic look on her face.

  He dropped his head and gave a rueful smile, chiding himself for his impeccable timing. Why did he always have to have his revelations in the middle of night?

  He chuckled at himself and walked back to her, taking her hand in his and bringing the back of it to his lips for a kiss.

  “First thing in the morning, then?” He asked hopefully, still feeling the cheer burn on his face. She giggled and nodded furiously, leaning upon the tips of her toes to peck his lips. She settled against his chest, arms loosely hung around his middle as he drooped his arms around her sides. Orchestrated into a symphony, the fulfilled drums of hearts and lovestruck, happy hums and sighs filled the moment as he basked in her warm embrace and his still bubbling joy, a broad grin plastered on his face.

  “Did you believe I would turn you away if you did not present me with a gift? You could give me something made of stone and I’d still appreciate it.” Sheeva whispered.

  He chuckled and shook his head, then cleared his throat.

  “It’s...just me, wanting to cling to tradition.” He admitted.

  Sheeva huffed against his chest.

  “This relationship is anything but traditional. I think.”

  He snickered at the truthful statement.

  “Oh, it certainly is anything but.”

  Tazaro took a deep, calming breath, feeling himself relax into her hold.

  “I love you, Sheeva Jules.” He sighed happily.

  “And I love you, Tazaro Chorea.” She replied, settling further into his chest.

  He felt as though a weight had been lifted from his body, and as he took in another deep breath and sighed, he tucked his finger beneath her chin to raise her face to meet his. His lips met hers in a sweet, slow, tender kiss as his other hand lifted to cradle her cheek, lovingly stroking the smooth skin beneath it.

  “Can I show you my ideas for rings or bracelets?” He asked, pulling out of the embrace and turning to his bag to rummage through it for his sketchbook.

  “Oh? Isn’t it supposed to be a surprise?” Sheeva asked, averting her gaze to the view beyond the balcony. He shrugged.

  “Technically, yes, but...I think it’d be better if we decided on something together. Besides, I plan to make this my best work yet, and it will be easier if I know it’s what you want.” He explained, sitting on the chest and patting the space next to him for her to sit beside him.

  She crossed the room and took the space next to him, propping one leg over the other to assist in resting the book across their laps as he thumbed through it.

  This sketchbook was new, entirely dedicated to wedding bracelets and rings, with scrawled notes on the types of wood he would use and whether or not he would set a stone into anything, and had even completed drawing out many matching pairs, one for her and one for him. Most were a combination of light and dark heartwoods, and the sighs of awe and “oo”s she gave tugged even more at his heartstrings.

  “There’s so many, it’s hard to decide! These are all wonderful, and-” She paused to sniffle. “Incredible. Thoughtful.” She chuckled and wiped at the tears that threatened to fall down her face. Her cheeks were rosy with a blush, and her red eyes glimmered with pure love and joy.

  “How long have you been planning this?”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and pecked the crown of her head, humming as she tucked her head into the crane of his neck.

  “A little over a month, now. Before we went back to Roussell. Vincent, Micah, Cassie, and Hasch all know about it, and they all give us their blessings.” He admitted, leaning back against the foot of the bed to stare at the lush foliage etched into the ceiling. As he spotted something that looked familiar, it reminded him of a particular sketch he was particularly fond of and sat up to flip through the book.

  Stopping on the page, he turned the book over to her to showcase the favorite of his: a ring made of the deeper hued heartwood of Tarrakkian Cherry, a striated wood primarily used for ornate decor, with a duality of light-hued Lucassen Birch, a type of tree commonly used for Lyres and Flutes and named after the god, Lucassen. The woods would be fused together and smoothed out to form the band. Their signatures would be combined and etched into the top surface of the ring, hers only interrupted for a circlet of shanks to hold in a gemstone of some kind. A scrawled list of potential gems was separated off the page by a box next to the space. He’d also toyed with the idea of engraving something into the gallery of the band but had put the idea on hold until he could come up with something worthy and meaningful.

  The way her face lit up and how quickly her smile grew told him all he needed to know, and he allowed her to admire the piece for as long as she liked, fully pacified by her wondrous expression.

  “This...this is...” She stammered, touching the page fondly with a gentle stroke, almost appearing worried about smearing the ink on the page. “Yes.”

  “Alright. It’s settled, then. I’ll get started on it as soon as possible.” He stated, dog-earing the page and gently closing the book. He stood and tucked it away in his bag, then turned back to face her. As he gazed at her, he let out a dreamy sigh, approaching her with an outstretched hand.

  Curious, she took it and giggled as he pulled her into another embrace, slowly twirling her around as he guided her into a slow, quiet dance. She tucked herself against him, seeming to meld into his shape as her hips swayed with his and her arms wrapped around his middle to squeeze his shoulders.

  “I hope we have a long, healthy, happy marriage, come whatever may.” He announced, tucking his chin on the top of her head as she pressed her cheek to his pectorals.

  “Mm, yeah.” He sighed in fantasy, smiling at a daydream. “All the gossip-girls will be wishing they were the gorgeous, strong woman named Sheeva Chorea.” He snickered, imagining the further dismay of the gaggles they’d picked up that would swarm and flock whenever he and Sheeva left the apartment during their short visit in Roussell.

  “Oh? Surely, the boys might wish they were you, Mr. handsome and smart Tazaro...Jules?” She suggested, lifting her head from his chest to peck his cheek. The cheer melted his heart, and he grinned.

  “We could consider that, too. Or, we could combine our names. Tazaro and Sheeva Jules-Chorea–I don’t give a damn!”

  They giggled with childish glee as he spun her out toward the mirror and then pulled her back in with a wry smirk and a quick jerk, thrilled with the excited “oh!” that flew past her lips before she nibbled on one in aroused excitement. Her hands rested on his shoulders before wrapping around them as he dipped her, and he stole a kiss on the lips as he held her tightly to him, one hand gliding down her side to support her bent leg as it curled around his waist.

  The way her slender fingers felt as they squeezed his chest seemed to feel new, and the drag of her nails against his pectorals sent a rush that coursed through his body. With another suggestive hum that vibrated their lips as he deepened the kiss and pressed her waist harder against his, he sighed at the electric zing as it made him tingle.

  “You interested in, uh, commemorating?” He purred, thrilled when she gently rocked her pelvis against his.

  “I’m yours, Tazaro.” She whispered, boldly reaching between their bodies to cast the blue-hued contraceptive shell over his erection and assisting the shrug-off of the jeans he hadn’t even buttoned up when she’d stopped him from racing out of the door.

  Eager step by memorized step, his hands roamed her body slowly, as though wanting to commit it to memory all over again, fueled by the ecstatic knowledge that she wanted to take that next big step into their relationship just as much as he did. With a boost of thrill, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, setting her tenderly down on it before beginning his tease of her body with ready fingers and nips of her chest.

  Even the way she wrapped her legs around his waist as he slid inside her felt new, and her sounds of pleasure were unhindered as she moved with him at a sensual, leisurely pace. His hand never let go of hers, and his free hand grasped at her shoulder to pin her in place at her hotly whispered request for more.

  It didn’t take long for them to fall apart, and after molding into her embrace as they slowly relaxed, Tazaro rolled onto his side and shuffled the sheets beneath his head as he curled an arm beneath hers. She placed chaste, sleepy kisses on his unhindered shoulder, then snuggled up against him and looped a leg around his waist as she stroked his chest. He gave a naughty chuckle at a thought.

  “We might have to make seeing the officiant the second thing we do tomorrow morning.”

  Her light giggle speared the silence and made him grin, still giddy from his high. He closed his eyes and let the light breeze flying in through the balcony doors wick away the heat from their bodies, purring from delight.

  “There is one small thing I know I want to keep traditional...and that’s to write each other our promises and gratitudes–wedding vows, essentially. Because, well...if things ever get rough, we can look back on them and remind ourselves of those promises.” He explained, bringing her hand to his mouth and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

  “Ok. I can do that.” She murmured, sighing with sleepiness.

  He settled into the bed as he began to doze off, only breaking the stillness by looping a leg over Sheeva’s as it began to jerk in her sleep.

  True to his word, heading for the nearest church ended up being the second thing they did after taking the morning for themselves, but after asking Razi, they learned that Urul didn’t have a priest who could carry out the ceremony and that most couples traveled to Raynak.

  The idea behind the pilgrimage was that the journey was supposed to signify the road ahead, and any and all challenges were to be met and overcome by the intended...or so Razi told them with a proud gleam in his eyes as they shared the news before checking out. Tazaro didn’t mind, deciding he would use the time to work on the ring they had selected, and further tickled-pink when Sheeva asked if they could still consider themselves “officially” married, in case “we can’t go through with a ceremony somewhere.” He wondered if she asked for fear of being denied but put the thought to rest. If they couldn’t find someone, they’d search, or otherwise, do it in some quiet spot where they had the liberty to be themselves.

  After straightening up the room before taking off and leaving a chunk of Inue for the staff’s hospitality, they set off towards the pass, bags packed and even pausing to order a “black-and-blue gut-buster” to take with them. Razi packed it neatly in a box and wrapped it in string and cloth, which, not to Tazaro’s surprise, Sheeva eyed the material and muttered something about “this will be useful somehow.”

  Tazaro eyed the height of the canyon that formed the pass, and his excitement grew as he wondered what it would be like to fly through the thing, wondering if he could convince Sheeva to flutter about, if only just for a little while. As they made their way through the main street that led to the entrance, he stopped at the sound of someone calling out for the both of them and turned to look behind.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The crowd behind them split as two small paths etched their way, and eventually, Fritz and Kallie popped out into the clearing surrounding him and Sheeva.

  “Wait!” Fritz huffed, having to prop himself on his knees as he caught his breath, panting between words.

  “Kallie and I wanted to give you some things before you left! Here, a loaf of bread and some cured meats, from Mama’s shop, and, Kallie?" He began, handing Tazaro the items in question. Kallie approached Sheeva, and Tazaro held a straight face as he clearly saw the stuffed behemoth the child hid behind her back.

  "I want you to have Mr. Whiskers. He'll help keep you safe." She said meekly. Sheeva smiled, and for a minute, Tazaro thought that perhaps it was forced, but as he noted the twinkle of genuine cheer in her eye, he felt even more confident that she would be a wonderful mother. Despite the abhorrence of the bastardly creatures, she could stifle that away in the presence of being gifted a lifeless stuffed animal version of one.

  "Thank you, Kallie. I will be sure to take care of, uh, Mr. Whiskers." Sheeva promised, offering her best smile. After making a point to position the thing in her bag such that the mohawk horned head could peek out at the world from beyond the drawstring, Sheeva hiked her bag back up onto her shoulders.

  Kallie and Fritz gave them as strong of a hug as they could before waving goodbye and dispersing through the crowd, a split spreading through the people as they moved out of the way again, grumbling to themselves.

  “Look at that. You have a new fr–

  –Shut up.” Sheeva mumbled with a small reticent smile as she passed him and pressed onward toward the high pass.

  Feeling alone, they cast their lights overhead and paused at the fork in the road, finding that the “keep out” sign had been taken down, allowing passage for miners and prospectors to come and go with carts full of gems. Sheeva and Tazaro redirected their lights to the lanterns, Sheeva’s attached to her hip and Tazaro’s hooked to the side of his bag. The winding tunnel carried on for a while, but as they saw the light of day in the end, Tazaro smiled, eager to feel the warming sun on his skin rather than the musty chill.

  The line of lanterns continued into stone-carved lamp-posts, and, while they weren’t on currently, he could only imagine how peaceful it would be at night-time.

  He stopped, gazing over the side of the rails at the hell-deep chasm below, finding himself able to ignore the almost-instant tightening of his gut in fear at the depths. Colorful layers of stone ranged from a strange shade of purplish-grey to a light, salmon-pink stone, and he found himself longing even more to take flight and examine the winding, serpentine canyon up close. Ledges and outcroppings provided space for flocks of sparrows to perch and build nests, and a row of thick, verdant vines crept down the side from the top, barely making headway as they reached for the bottom of the crevasse. The giant spots of natural crystals speared out like a cluster of metal shards drawn to a magnet, and he found the sea-foam greens fading into the darker sapphires and amethysts appealing. He appreciated the fact that such stunning features were untouched by man.

  “Wow.” He whispered, a light in his eyes at the view as he leaned against the rail. He stooped, then took a knee to shrug off his bag. After leaning the bulky thing against the stone lamp-post nearby, he slipped beneath the rail to hop onto one of the ledges, pleased to feel the heatwave rise from the dusty stone. The thermals they gave off would make soaring through the canyon a breeze, and the more that he thought of it, the more his back tingled, eager to spread his wings and leap out to catch them. Tazaro smiled and turned back to her, offering a hand for her to take.

  “Hey, come here. Take in the view with me.” He asked. Sheeva’s mischievous smile spread on her face with a slight blush on her alabaster cheeks, and she nodded, removing her bag and setting it next to his. She looked around cautiously as though checking for sentries, then slipped beneath the rail and onto the ledge, taking his offered hand as he steadied her across the uneven ground.

  As Tazaro and Sheeva leaned over the split in the earth, they were met with a powerful upwind that made them need to squint lest debris flew into their eyes, and Tazaro snorted at himself as he pulled back to wipe at his face. Sheeva adjusted the flyaways in her hair and retrieved her red ribbon to begin braiding her hair back into something manageable.

  “Wasn’t expecting that. Blech.” Tazaro grunted, following suit with her as he began to curl his wavy hair into a bun and tied it off with his green ribbon.

  He braced himself on a twiggy tree clinging to life on the impossible ground and leaned over to look.

  “How far deep do you think it goes?” He asked. Sheeva leaned over, too, humming to herself as she thought for an answer.

  “Center of Sferra? Who knows? Nah, can’t be; I think I see a river down there.”

  As Tazaro eyed her form, he laughed at himself as he thought of how easily he could shove her off the ledge but tightened his grip on the tree to resist the urge.

  “Tazaro, if you punt me off the side of this thing, I will not forgive you.” She threatened in an even-toned deadpan, causing him to laugh harder.

  “No! No, I would never do that.”

  He circled around the tree, and a couple steps away, pretending to use his fingers to line up with her.

  “Good, because I might have to kill–oof!” Sheeva grunted, stunned from impact as she stood and turned around to face him, met with a brute-force tackle that threw them both off the side of the ledge and caused Sheeva to bark out a sudden, mildly terrified “Shit!” that reverberated off the walls of the chasm as she clung to his clothes. He maneuvered her into a bridal-style carry as they free fell for a moment, watching the layers zoom past into darker hues as they crashed toward the bottom of the ravine.

  “For fuck’s–” She stopped as he bared and spread his wings to catch the air, then smacked his arm in a trifle tiff. “You’re a bastard!” She grinned.

  Tazaro giggled lowly and swooped, pecking her lips in return. As the wind whipped through their clothes, he cast a warming spell on the both of them, then returned his lips to hers to deliver a few slow kisses for pardons.

  “Admit it–it was fun, though!” He cackled, reeling in the sheer antics, and secretly impressed with the well-timed tackle and lift. She gifted him a complimentary eye-roll and settled, tucking herself into his hold as she turned to look at the sights as nests, rocky ledges, and jagged cliffs passed by. As they dove lower to a point where the morning sun couldn’t quite breach, the plant-life grew sparse, and the chitterings of birds disappeared, replaced by a tranquil silence, save for the rushing of wind past their ears.

  “Wow, there really is a river.” Sheeva blurted in awe as she looked down.

  Wanting a closer look as he thought he spotted fish in the bubbling lazy river, Tazaro dropped lower, then even lower when Sheeva reached for it with an eager hand. Watching as her hand trailed a billowing white wave as it cut through the surface of the water, he was too entranced to register her calling his name until the second time.

  He looked back at her with a questioning look, but as she scooped a healthy cupful of water and splashed it in his face, Tazaro cried out, lost his hangings, and crashed. The shock of water on his body made him scream out as soon as his head breached the surface, clapping back and forth as it rose through the canyon. Treading as the river carried them along, Tazaro gaped at Sheeva in disbelief for a rare moment as his brain caught up with circumstance.

  “Wow! I can’t believe you–Wow!” He laughed, shuffling his wings away into his back to make swimming easier.

  “Oh? You can’t? I thought you were the ‘King of wily bullshit!” She replied, playfully splashing him with water after pulling a loosened lock of hair off her face and back behind her ear.

  “Oh, I still am!” He determined, kicking and paddling to close their distance. “But, every king needs a queen, am I right?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows and giving her a look, daring her not to challenge the statement. It caught her off guard, and she beamed at him, adding a childish gesture of sticking out her tongue at his antics as she swam closer to pull herself into his hold.

  “Hm! Quite true, my king!” She snickered, moving the hair out of his face and fixing his collar, though it didn’t hold up against the river’s current, and ended up flopping back up against his neck. He didn’t care, however, and nuzzled her nose with his to entice her into a sweet, sincere kiss as they floated down the way. Sheeva relaxed into the embrace and held onto his shoulders.

  Their body heat seemed to assist in keeping them warm as they drifted by the darkest layers, occasionally spotting a cave riddled with spiraling crystal formations or large, chunky rocks that jutted out over the river. Managing to swim over to a shallow bank, Tazaro emerged from the waters and sat them down on a large batholith, feeling the porous, bubbled stone beneath his fingers as he examined the new style of unfamiliar rock. As the sun finally rose well enough into the sky to grace them with warm beams, they let themselves dry off and bathe in sunrays, swaddled by damp clothes and serenaded by rippling waters.

  “This was fun. Thank you for stopping with me, Sheeva, and participating in my silly moments. I really appreciate it.” He murmured, enthralled and dreamily.

  “You’re most welcome, and, yes, this is a lot of fun.” She replied

  They shared in the stellar view and cuddled for comfort, trading delightful kisses and peaceful sighs as the day trickled by, and Tazaro drank in as much of the moment as possible, gorging himself on contentedness and newfound quality of life.

  A fire simmered nearby, spilling warmth over the surface of the cliff they stopped at for the night. Sheeva curled up in a sleeping bag, lightly snoring, worn-out from the hike they’d made through the pass after the taxing flight back to the main road’s elevation. If Tazaro had to guess, the canyon stretched about two clicks from surface to the river–six-thousand feet of layers upon layers of different types of rock–and it felt like it took them three hours to make the ascent. He supposed it also didn’t help that he’d insisted on pausing to examine each and every different layer, believing one of the layers to be the source of the sparkly limestone some of the Eastern Quarter homes were built of.

  His light flickered above him, and though he felt the tire of his eyes and the ache of his bones as they begged him to lie down for sleep, Tazaro stared at the blank page of his sketchbook, a quill in his left hand and opened jar of ink in his right. The book splayed across his lap stared back at him. The jagged edges in its centerfold were a mild eyesore, left behind from pages he tore out in distaste and chucked into the fire that greedily gobbled up the mess of words on paper.

  “The meaning of life is to give life meaning, and though it’s something I followed, I never really understood it until I met you.” He mumbled, dipping the tip of the quill and scribbling down the words before he could change his mind. He caught himself wondering how Sheeva would fare with writing her vows, considering her right-handedness. Would her hand drag across the fresh liquid and leave her with an ink-stained hand? His lips curled into a teasing smirk, thankful it wouldn’t be him with a blackened palm.

  A blip in the distance brought him out of thought, and Tazaro peered at the figure in the darkness, eyes widening in fear and skin tingling with adrenaline as it approached unafraid, then let out a sigh of relief as Bartholomew’s teal skin glowed in the light of the fire.

  “Hiya. Whatcha working on?” Bartholomew greeted, pausing to eye Sheeva sleeping soundly in her sleeping bag, huffing a laugh as he picked up on her light snore.

  “Um…” Tazaro glanced down at the page with only one sentence on it. “Well, it’s-it’s supposed to be wedding vows, but...” He mumbled, embarrassed as he lifted the book and showed Bartholomew the almost empty page.

  He watched the ta’hal’s eyebrows raise and do a head-tilt, much like a ketze watching its owner do something foolish.

  “Oh! Well, congratulations! It’s about damn time, boy! You almost slipped up a few times!” Bartholomew cackled, though not as loud as usual, for consideration of Sheeva sleeping a few feet away. He approached, stooped, and curled up his tail into its usual spiral whenever he wanted to sit down. The clawed hands rested on scaly knees, and he hummed, almost seeming to purr with a pleasant, thoughtful look on his mug.

  “You, you know?” Tazaro asked, upset and further put on guard.

  “Mm, I read her.” He admitted shamelessly, tapping his chin. He waved his hand, reached into his chest, pulled out a ceramic jug with a label on it in a language he didn’t recognize, then set it down. Unnerved, he couldn’t bring himself to look away as Bartholomew reached into his chest again to retrieve two matching ceramic glasses and set them beside the jug.

  “How do you do that?” Tazaro asked, not sure he really wanted to know as it sent a spooky shiver down his spine.

  “Oh, you know. I just have a shelf where I keep all my things.” Bartholomew answered, further baffling Tazaro, who began to fear that, somehow, Bartholomew was telling the truth. When Bartholomew snickered and muttered something about “an infinite bag of holding,” Tazaro decided it was an inside joke he wasn’t privy to and that he should drop the matter.

  “Anyway…” Bartholomew started, popping the cork to the jug and pouring a sizable amount of liquor into the glasses. He picked one up with an amazingly dainty claw and held it up for cheers. Tazaro picked his up, too, and clinked.

  “Mazel tov!” The ta’hal cheered with a grin as he downed the shot.

  “What?” Tazaro asked, unfamiliar with the phrase. It wasn’t anything he’d ever heard before in his life. Bartholomew waved it off with a hand.

  “Don’t worry about it. Just drink!”

  Tazaro shrugged, brought the cup to his lips, and tilted it back to draw in the sweet, stinging liquor that burned his nose, blurting out a surprised, choked wow!

  “What is that?” He asked, shaking off the bite as it slapped him across the face.

  “Vodka. Made from potatoes. Good stuff?”

  “Potent! Is that Pyuritan? It’s gotta be; only they could be crazy enough to use potatoes!”

  Bartholomew grunted in response, further driving a bizarre feeling in Tazaro’s gut at the creature’s ambiguity. However, he didn’t have much time to dwell on it as the thing poured another shot before stopping the jug with the cork.

  “One more! Here!” He urged, pressing the cup into Tazaro’s hands. Stunned, Tazaro took it.

  “Uh...mazel tov?”

  “Yeah, mazel tov!” Bartholomew praised gleefully, toasting and throwing back the snippy liquor. Tazaro tipped and drank, squeezing his eyes closed and scrunching his nose.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked in mild protest and mild earnest.

  “No, but it’ll help you write your vows–trust me. I spent weeks trying to come up with something fitting for my wife when we addressed them at the altar. Must have gone through ten trees trying to find the perfect words.” He puffed in cheer, then humbled, shoulders slouching forward a little as a soft smile spanned his jowls. He chuckled at himself, then sputtered his lips.

  “Heh. You know, I was so nervous when I dropped to a knee and went to propose, I, uh, clammed up. Couldn’t say a damn thing. And, to make matters worse? She knelt too; she thought I’d dropped my keys.” He admitted, slapping his thigh in humor at himself. Tazaro chuckled, grateful it wasn’t him, though the situation had been mildly awkward.

  He stared into the fire in contemplation, already feeling the burn of alcohol on his cheeks and ears.

  “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.” He muttered, shaking his head at himself. “Uh, we kinda said it at the same time. I almost missed it.”

  “Oh? Shame, I would have liked to see her slap you.”

  Tazaro turned to look at him, a little glazed and slightly frightened to see him pouring a third shot of the powerful stuff. Still, he took the glass and stared at it for a few seconds before downing it. It burned much less than the first two had.

  “What faith you have in our relationship, man.” He mumbled with a smile.

  “I have a lot of faith, actually. You’re good for her. She’s good for you. I’d...I want nothing less for my godkid. So, uh…” He trailed off, scratching at his head. “Well, you know. Take care of her.” He asked, not waiting for a response as he packed up and stepped over Sheeva’s sleeping form, then disappeared with a strange blip.

  “Don’t worry. I plan to.” He promised to the now empty space.

  Tazaro felt the slow blink of his eyes and dropped his gaze to stare at the quill still in his hand, somewhat doubting his ability to write well. But, as the inspiration of words followed, he placed the tip to the page and began to scribble, deciding he’d fix any mistakes or misspellings in the morning. He wrote until the page was filled and smiled to himself, head swimming with a lax, mild buzz.

  What an outstanding quality of life to experience. He thought before dogearing the page and setting it aside to crawl into his own bag and curl up for the night.