Session 69

10/22/2024

Crow’s Nest

The wind howled through the crow’s nest, carrying with it the biting cold of the open sky. Aydriann leaned back against the mast, his eyes half-closed, letting the icy gusts whip his hair around his face. Beside him, the puppy, Corsten, huddled closer, drawing warmth from the meager cloak Aydriann had lent him. Tess stood nearby, her face turned upward, her eyes reflecting the twinkling stars above them. It was a rare quiet moment amidst the chaos…a moment Aydriann wanted to hold onto.
Breaking the silence, Aydriann asked, his voice barely above a whisper, “What can you do, Tess?”
Tess glanced at him, her expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she leaped into motion. She arched backward, her body moving in a graceful backflip, her limbs as fluid as water. The air seemed to hold her, her movements defying gravity. Tess floated into a swan dive, her form shifting seamlessly into an upright pose, her short hair spreading out around her head like the petals of a flower. Her garments moved too, flowing with a life of their own, dancing as if caught in an unseen current.
Aydriann watched, a faint smile touching his lips. “That’s cool,” he said, his voice tinged with genuine admiration.
Tess looked at him, her head tilting slightly to one side. Her eyes, calm and distant, met his, and she spoke in a low, almost emotionless tone. “Why are we up here in the cold?”
Aydriann let out a soft sigh, his breath visible in the frigid air. “I like the quiet,” he said. It was rare for him to speak so calmly. “To get away from everything. To be free with my thoughts.”
Tess seemed to absorb his words, her gaze drifting away to the vast darkness of the night sky. She spoke slowly as if the words were being formed for the first time, “To be free of the noise. To be at peace. To find oneself. To be empty, only to fill the void… with impact.” Her voice trailed off, her head turned, her eyes lost in the distance.
Aydriann followed her gaze for a moment, the stars above them like scattered diamonds against the velvety black of the sky. The cold bit into him, but there was something about this place, about this moment, that made it feel… right.
“I’ve dealt with the cold before,” Aydriann said, his voice breaking the silence. “Winter festivals back home, or nights spent in the old, ruined sewage pipe I called home. It’s always been nice to find warmth when the world around you is freezing.”
Tess’s eyes flickered, a soft understanding reflected in her gaze. “Nice,” she repeated. “That is a good feeling.”
Aydriann smiled, a rare warmth in his eyes. “Yeah. But a head cold isn’t.” He pushed himself away from the mast, the cold wind cutting through his clothes. “Let’s head back inside.”
He grabbed Corsten and led the way down from the crow’s nest, carefully climbing the rope ladder, his feet finding each rung in the dim light. He could hear the murmur of conversation from below…the warm, inviting sounds of the ship’s lounge.
He stepped onto the deck, Corsten being put down on the floor of the ship, Tess drifting silently behind them. The warmth of the ship enveloped them as they moved below deck, the chill fading into the background as the voices of the crew filled the space. The lounge was alive with laughter and chatter, the kind of camaraderie that only came from shared hardships.
Aydriann paused for a moment at the entrance, glancing back at Tess. She gave him a small nod, her eyes softening, and he knew she understood. Sometimes, it wasn’t about the grand gestures or the dramatic moments. Sometimes, it was about the quiet places, the stillness between breaths, the warmth found in the cold. And for now, that was enough.

Ember’s and Orianna’s matchmaking services

The lounge of the airship, The Valiant, was alive with sound…voices, laughter, the clink of glasses. It had always been the heart of the ship during downtime, a place where crew members could forget, even if briefly, the looming weight of everything they faced. Aydriann stepped through the door, the warm light from the lamps casting a golden glow across the polished wood of the small bar. He heard snippets of conversation, a mention of a date set for tomorrow. Curious, his eyes scanned the room, quickly finding Ember among the gathered group.
Aydriann approached, his voice casual yet sharp, “The hell is going on?” He directed the question at Ember, who was leaning against the bar, her lips quirking at his arrival.
Ember turned her head to him, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, just wait,” she replied, not bothering to hide her grin. “It’s about to get good.”
Aydriann frowned slightly, but before he could press her further, the doors swung open, and Dax strolled in, swagger in every step, his demeanor casual yet calculated. Ember’s grin widened as she watched him, waiting for what would inevitably follow.
Dax’s voice cut across the chatter, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I gotta say, giving that poor boy stage fright just to get him to ask someone out is probably the stupidest thing I’ve seen in a while. Which, coming from me, says a lot.” His words were accompanied by a lopsided smile, his tone half-joking, half-serious.
Aydriann’s curiosity was piqued now, a smile tugging at his lips, but he caught something in Ember’s expression. She was hiding something, and he intended to find out. He nudged her. “Ember, did you do what I think you did?”
Ember shrugged, feigning innocence. “Not sure what you’re implying. I just gave Aqol a little… push.”
Aydriann arched a brow, his smile widening. “You really think that was a good idea?”
Ember gave him a sidelong glance, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “It worked, didn’t it? You know me and these kinds of things…I’m a sucker for setting people up.”
Aydriann’s eyes widened slightly. “You know, if it hadn’t worked, it could’ve ended badly. Like, flames and all.” He paused, his voice softer. “Remember what happened with me?”
Ember looked away, her smirk fading for just a heartbeat. “Aqol came to me,” she said, her tone more serious. “He seemed… helpless. Thought all was lost between his chances of striking a date with Dax. I just gave them a chance to have a conversation.”
Across the room, Orianna’s voice rang out, slurred from too much alcohol. “I’m so happy for Aqol and Dax! I did this. I set them up!” She was beaming, tears of joy streaming down her flushed cheeks.
Aydriann looked at Dax, unable to resist. “So, you mean to tell me, you and painter boy… that’s what’s going on?” He chuckled, the sound growing louder. “World-ending events, and you choose to set a date with the one we scared half to death last time?”
Dax’s gaze met Aydriann’s, completely unfazed. “Look, Aqol has cool abilities,” he began.
Aydriann pounced on the opportunity, grinning. “So you’re dating him for his abilities?”
Dax’s expression didn’t change, but a flicker of annoyance crossed his eyes. “We haven’t gone on a date yet. But yeah, we’d probably talk about those abilities and…” He trailed off, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, this conversation’s getting old. Good night.” Without waiting for a reply, Dax turned and walked out of the lounge.
Orianna, still caught up in her drunken joy, called out, “We should celebrate! We should…” Her voice trailed off as Peach stepped forward, gently grabbing her arm and steering her toward the bedrooms, her head lolling as she mumbled contentedly.
Aydriann shook his head, letting the laughter fade. He turned toward the bar, motioning for Malachi to bring him a strong drink. As he waited, he reached out with his mind, establishing a telepathic connection with Ember.
In his head, Ember’s voice echoed, amused. “Talking to your friend just now?”
Aydriann responded, “No Jaz tonight.”
Ember sighed, her mental voice dropping in volume. “No, your other friend.”
Aydriann hesitated. “Not sure what you’re talking about.”
Ember’s voice carried a hint of frustration. “Fine. Also, where the hell were you last night?”
Aydriann didn’t hesitate this time. “In the woodcarver’s room.” It was a simple response, referring to Peach.
Ember glanced over at Preslynn, who was waiting on her, drink in hand. Her eyes softened as she returned her focus to Aydriann. “You should come back, you know.”
Aydriann sighed audibly, taking his drink from Malachi. “I need my space. Besides, I’m pissed at Venoxyin.” His tone shifted, more thoughtful. “Changing the subject…I’ve got an idea to make New Moonshire safe. I’ll need a ruby and the spell, Forbiddance. The spell needs to be cast thirty times a day to become permanent.”
Ember’s voice in his mind turned calculating. “Time is our enemy. We’d need someone else to cast it… maybe Lynessa could do it if we asked her. But, Aydriann, are you going to speak to Venoxyin?”
Aydriann paused, his drink halfway to his lips. He let out a tired sigh. “Yeah, eventually. Maybe next week.”
Ember’s concern bled into her voice. “You need to talk to her.”
Aydriann nodded, then turned his attention back to Malachi. “Need a drink for the road. I’m heading out, Ember.”
Ember nodded, her focus shifting to Preslynn, who stood patiently waiting. Preslynn held two mixed drinks, her face lighting up with a warm smile as Ember approached.
“Hey Ember, how are things?” Preslynn asked, her voice light but with a hint of something beneath the surface.
Ember took one of the drinks, her smile small but genuine. “Good. How are you holding up?”
Preslynn’s smile faltered, her expression turning to concern. “Not great. I miss Volaris. I miss hanging out with the Macheze.”
Ember scoffed playfully. “I’m not a Macheze. They just adopted me.”
Preslynn was quick to respond, her voice soft. “They treated you like family though. I was always a little envious.”
Ember’s smile grew faintly wistful. “True enough. When they adopted me, I never wanted for anything… except, I did. It wasn’t really me, Preslynn.”
Preslynn nodded slowly, understanding. “Do you still write to them?”
“Yeah,” Ember said, her voice softening. “They don’t know what I’m really doing. I just tell them I’m off exploring the world. Which, I guess, isn’t far from the truth.” She paused, her eyes searching Preslynn’s face. “We’re heading back to New Moonshire soon, planning to make it safe. Maybe you should stay there, make a nice place for us since I have to head into some dangerous places.”
Preslynn’s eyes filled with hurt. “Yeah? And who’s going to watch over you, Ember? You’re sending me off to be protected… but what about you?”
Ember’s smile faded. “I don’t know if they can do this without me.”
Preslynn downed her drink, her throat burning, forcing a sigh out of her mouth. She looked at Ember, her eyes shining. “Sorry for being selfish. I know what you’re doing is important, and as you grow stronger, it makes sense for me to stay behind. Just… message me every day?”
Ember’s expression softened, her hand reaching out to touch Preslynn’s arm. “Every day. I promise. Thanks for understanding.”
Preslynn sighed, her eyes distant. “I guess we can’t go back to the way things were.”
Ember’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. “We can’t. But we will, once we save the world.”
Preslynn gave a small smile, tears brimming in her eyes. “The world doesn’t deserve you, Ember. Not with how they’ve treated you.”
Ember quickly wiped away Preslynn’s tears, her voice full of warmth. “I’m doing this for us. I’ll do it, and I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me.” She hesitated, then added, her tone teasing, “Also, looks like we have the room to ourselves tonight.”
Preslynn’s face brightened, a naughty smile replacing the sadness. She took Ember’s hand, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Together, they headed towards their room.

I’m Finally Happy

The corridor of The Valiant was dim, the lights overhead buzzing softly, and the metal walls seemed to echo with every creak of the ship. Dax was on his way back from the lounge, his footsteps soft against the steel floor. His mind still buzzed with the warmth of the evening…a mixture of laughter, camaraderie, and the unfamiliar thrill of being seen by someone in a different light. But his thoughts were interrupted as he rounded the corner and found Mack standing there, waiting for him.
She stood in her rigid posture, her frame made of intricately designed metal, with lines of faint light tracing her form like veins of molten silver. Her eyes, a deep blue glow, focused on him, her head tilted slightly, her stance somehow managing to convey a sense of curiosity without her saying a word. It was as if she were silently demanding an explanation of what had transpired.
Dax let out a small chuckle, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You know, you were right,” he said, his voice light but earnest. “Putting myself out there… it’s made me happier. I didn’t think it would, but it has.”
Mack’s shoulders slumped, and she tilted her head back, letting out a mechanical-sounding sigh. “You taking advice from a robot without romantic feelings… that’s gotta be the saddest fuckin’ thing, Dax.”
Dax’s smile widened, unfazed by her bluntness. “Maybe. But you know what? It worked. I mean, yeah, it’s just started, but… it’s nice. A different pace, a different feeling. And with everything happening…the world ending and all,” he made a mock screaming face, his eyes wide and mouth open, “I actually feel happy. It’s weird, Mack. I don’t get it.”
Mack tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re not happy.”
Dax let out a laugh, one that carried more honesty than humor. “No, I’m not,” he admitted.
Mack looked away, her gaze drifting to the walls, the faint lights reflecting off her metallic surface. “I mean, you’re not happy with me,” she said, her voice softer. “I’m just… a friend you found. A friend you fixed. By the gods, Dax, what are we?”
Dax’s smile faltered, and he took a step closer to her. “Mack, it’s not like that. I was good when it was just me and you. I mean that. But now… now I’m better.” He tried to catch her eyes, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Mack’s voice dropped, the mechanical hum of it growing more intense, almost a growl. “But you weren’t happy, were you?”
Dax sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “It’s not your fault, Mack. Look,” he said, crouching down to her eye level. He placed his hand low to the ground. “I was here, right? Then you came along.” He raised his hand slightly, showing a rise. “And I was here.” He paused, then raised his hand even higher, lifting it above his head. “But now, with everything suddenly changing… I mean, just yesterday, everyone’s been coming up to me, wanting to hang out. And now, someone’s interested in me.” He used his disguise magic to make an illusion of his hand rising impossibly high, a goofy grin on his face. “Now I’m way up here.”
Mack’s face remained expressionless…well, as expressionless as a stone face could be. Her blue eyes dimmed slightly. “You got what you wanted,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Good for you.”
Dax frowned, his gaze softening. “You don’t seem happy about it, Mack.”
Her tone turned flat, emotionless…the kind of tone she could pull off with ease, being a golem. “I’m happy for you, Dax. This is just how I sound.”
Dax knew he wasn’t going to win this argument. He nodded, conceding with a sigh. “Alright. Will you tuck me into bed, then?”
Mack’s head tilted slightly, and her gaze softened. She nodded…this routine had become their ritual, a way for Dax to find some semblance of peace, a moment of comfort against the demons that clawed at his mind. “Fine,” she said, her voice almost gentle. “Get to bed, Dax.”
Dax’s smile returned, mischievous now. “No bedtime story?” he asked, a playful lilt in his voice.
Mack turned, her head shaking in mock frustration. “I did it one time, Dax. One fuckin’ time,” she muttered. “No I will not.”

The Kiss

The airship Valiant was quiet, the faint creaking of the hull mingling with the distant murmur of the wind outside. Aydriann made his way towards Peach’s room, his footsteps unsteady, his mind clouded by the effects of too many drinks from the lounge. As he approached, he saw Peach finally letting go of Orianna, who was slumped against him, clearly too far gone to manage on her own. Peach handed Orianna over to Sirius, her older brother, who took her with a weary sigh and a nod of thanks.
Aydriann walked alongside Peach, their path leading them to Peach’s room. The room was compact, the lighting soft, casting gentle shadows across the polished wood. Aydriann’s eyes were drawn to the wood figures carved by Peach, displayed throughout the room. Peach sat at his woodcarving desk while Aydriann slumped on the edge of the bed.
“That’s cool,” Aydriann said, his voice a little too loud in the stillness. He pointed to the carvings, his finger tracing the air along their contours. “You make all those?”
Peach glanced at him, his eyes narrowing slightly. Aydriann was obviously drunk, the way his words slurred, the way he swayed slightly on his feet. “Yeah,” Peach replied, his voice calm, though there was a flicker of something behind his eyes…something Aydriann couldn’t quite place. Peach pushed whatever thoughts he had aside, focusing instead on getting Aydriann settled for the night.
Aydriann continued, his words stumbling over one another. “You’ve got a great talent. These things… they show that.”
Peach couldn’t help but smile, a small, genuine smile that softened the sharp edges of his usually guarded expression. “Why are you so talkative tonight?” he asked, his tone light, teasing.
Aydriann blinked, taken aback. “Why do you ask questions?” he shot back, his voice a mix of confusion and humor.
Peach raised an eyebrow, amused. Aydriann was clearly feeling bold tonight, emboldened by the liquid courage running through his veins. He tilted his head, his gaze curious. “I always ask questions,” he said simply. “Questions provide knowledge. Why you ask so many questions?”
Aydriann opened his mouth to respond, but the room seemed to spin, his vision blurring for a moment. He steadied himself against the bed, his words slurring even more.
Peach watched him, his amusement growing. But then he looked at Aydriann more closely, his smile fading. “Are you drunk?”
Aydriann blinked, trying to focus, a lopsided grin forming on his face. “Maybe. That asshole you’re related to…no, not your twin…that bastard of a brother of yours. He calls you Ozdos. The fuck’s up with that?” The words tumbled out of his mouth, curses flowing as easily as the drinks had earlier.
Peach’s eyes narrowed, the question striking deeper than he’d expected. He hesitated, the name pulling at memories he kept buried. Still, something in Aydriann’s drunken curiosity made him want to answer, even if it meant reopening old wounds. “That’s my name,” he said finally, his voice soft.
Aydriann frowned, confusion knitting his brows together. “I thought your name was Peach?” he asked, the question slipping out before he could think to stop it.
Peach sighed, his gaze drifting to his carved figurines. “Ozdos is the name of my grandfather. He… he died.” He paused, looking back at Aydriann, who was swaying slightly, his eyes half-closed. “You ask a lot of questions.”
Aydriann shrugged, his smile returning. “Just following your lead. So… why not just go by Ozdos?” he asked, his tone playful.
Peach hesitated, the question hanging in the air between them. It was a simple question, but the answer was anything but. He took a deep breath, the words coming slowly, carefully. “I didn’t think I deserved his name. When I transitioned, I took it. I wanted to feel connected to him. He was the best person I knew.”
Aydriann’s eyes, though heavy with alcohol, held a sincerity that surprised Peach. “Then why don’t you correct us?” Aydriann asked, his voice soft, almost gentle. “If he’s so important, why not let us call you by that name instead?”
Peach felt something tighten in his chest, the weight of Aydriann’s words pressing against the barriers he’d built around himself. The memories, the regrets…they all rose up, threatening to overwhelm him. “Because I let him die,” Peach said, his voice breaking. He hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant to let the words slip out, but there they were, hanging in the air, raw and painful. “If I’d been there, maybe… maybe I could’ve done something. Maybe I could’ve stopped my father from doing what he did. Instead, he used some powerful spell, and now… now my grandfather’s gone.” He looked at Aydriann, whose eyes were struggling to stay open, his head bobbing as if he were on the verge of passing out.
Peach sighed, realizing that this conversation might be wasted on someone as drunk as Aydriann. But still, there was something about having someone there, someone who listened, that made it worth it. “You need to go to bed,” Peach said softly, his voice gentle.
Aydriann blinked, his gaze unfocused. “I don’t think I can sleep alone,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
Peach’s eyes widened, a flicker of caution flashing across his face. He hesitated, unsure of where this was going. “That’s… weird,” he said, trying to hide the unease in his voice.
Aydriann seemed to sense the need to explain, his voice suddenly more coherent, as if the confession had sobered him up. “I used to sleep in a pipe, with others. We had to stay close to keep warm in winter. It became… second nature, I guess.” He paused, his eyes meeting Peach’s. “Even now, I feel anxious sleeping alone.”
Peach looked at him for a long moment, his expression softening. He could see the vulnerability in Aydriann’s eyes, the honesty in his words. “Weird,” he repeated, but there was no judgment in his voice. “Go to bed.” He turned away, moving towards where Elira was lying, seemingly asleep but with an ear clearly tuned to the conversation.
Before Peach could check on her, Aydriann called out, his voice plaintive. “Hey, I need help. This bed is huge, and I can’t climb up.”
Peach sighed, shaking his head as he walked over to Aydriann. He helped the Gnome up onto the bed, his hands steadying Aydriann as he pulled himself up. At some point, Peach realized just how close they were…Aydriann’s face inches from his own, his breath warm against Peach’s skin. Peach’s heart skipped a beat, an unfamiliar rush of emotion flooding through him. He started to pull away, but Aydriann’s voice stopped him.
“Hey,” Aydriann whispered, his eyes half-lidded, a lazy smile on his lips. “You’re dumb.”
Peach opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, Aydriann leaned forward, his lips brushing against Peach’s in a soft, drunken kiss. It was brief, barely more than a touch, but it left Peach’s heart pounding, his mind reeling.
Aydriann slumped back, his eyes closing as he drifted off, the kiss forgotten as sleep claimed him. Peach stood there for a moment, his thoughts a chaotic swirl, the word “weird” escaping his lips once more, though this time it held a different meaning.
He turned away, moving back towards Elira, who was watching him with a curious expression, her eyes wide. She smiled up at him, her voice soft. “Hey Peach, should I have left?”
Peach shook his head, his voice kind. “No. You’re fine, Elira.”
Elira’s smile faded, her gaze turning somber. “I didn’t know about your grandfather. I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through.”
Peach nodded, his expression gentle. “It’s okay. I wanted to tell you, but… I never found the right time. I’m glad you know now.”
The weapon Sol, resting against the wall, began to pulse with energy, a soft glow emanating from the blade. Peach felt it, and Elira noticed too. She gave Peach a small nod, understanding. “I’ll let you get some sleep,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. She had been trying so hard to be Peach’s friend, and he appreciated it more than she knew. He reached out, patting her gently on the head.
“You’re a good friend, Elira,” he said softly.
Elira smiled, moving to her spot on the floor, curling up under her blanket. Peach turned to the star blade, Sol, gently picking it up, the light from the blade reflecting in his eyes. As he held it, the voice of Tavina, the entity within the blade, spoke, her voice echoing in his mind.
“I heard your story, Peach. Damn, the fates for taking away those we love. It doesn’t make it easier, but I try keep a positive attitude, focusing on my duty.”
Peach nodded, a small, sad smile on his lips. “Yeah, I need to focus on the positive too. With the time I have left.”
Tavina’s voice was gentle, filled with warmth. “You have a good heart, Peach. I see now why I am in your hands. I will call you Peach until the day you decide you wish to be called something else.”
Peach nodded again, a warmth spreading through his chest. “I’ll let you know. And tomorrow… we should plan a friend date, just you and me.”
Tavina’s voice brightened a hint of excitement in her tone. “I would like that. Goodnight, Peach.”
Peach smiled, setting the blade down beside him, the glow fading as he closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion of the day finally pull him under.

Next morning

Morning came too soon for many on the airship Valiant. The remnants of last night’s revelry still hung in the heads and stomachs of the crew, a fog of grogginess clinging to the air. Orianna found herself lingering in the quieter corners of the ship, watching the crew go about their routines, a soft curiosity guiding her steps. She passed by the conservatory and spotted Aqol, already awake, brush in hand, painting as if the rest of the world were nothing more than an afterthought.
He’s up early, she thought, a hint of admiration in her eyes as she continued her walk. The day was only just beginning, the third day of their five-day journey to New Moonshire. Her thoughts drifted as she wandered, a smile tugging at her lips. I wonder where Dax is, she mused, her curiosity piqued at the thought of the burgeoning connection between Dax and Aqol.
Ember and Preslynn had gotten the bedroom to themselves last night. Passion filled their night and extended into the morning. Judging by the noises coming from behind the door, they were still enjoying each other’s company. Dax, on the other hand, was already up and on a mission. He strolled into the mess hall, his steps confident, and found Eleanor, the halfling cook, busy preparing breakfast for the crew. The scent of fresh bread and sizzling meat filled the space, making his stomach rumble in anticipation.
“Eleanor! Just the halfling I wanted to see,” Dax called, a grin on his face as he approached. “Listen, I have a plan. Tonight, I want this place decorated. Mood lighting, curtains on the windows, tablecloths, ornate glassware…velvet. Did I mention velvet?”
Eleanor looked up, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Velvet, you say? You know, I haven’t had a reason to bring out the nice stuff in a while. This will be a treat.”
Dax leaned in, his grin widening. “And the best food you’ve ever made, Eleanor. I mean it. Make tonight’s dinner something unforgettable. Can you do that?”
Eleanor’s smile grew, her enthusiasm infectious. “Oh, I can do that, alright. Don’t you worry, Dax. I’ve got just the thing in mind.”
She turned to start her preparations, but Dax wasn’t quite done. “Oh, and Eleanor?” he called after her. “Make a dessert too.” Fungar, the symbiotic entity that shared Dax’s body, chimed in softly, “With apples.”
Eleanor raised a hand in acknowledgment, her voice carrying back to him, “Can do, Dax. I’ll make sure it’s perfect.”
With that sorted, Dax took a deep breath, a hint of nerves settling in his stomach. “Alright, Fungar,” he said under his breath, “I need you to make me glow.”
Fungar’s voice echoed in his mind. “Yes, the suit?”
Dax nodded, determination etched across his face. “Yes, and the jawline too.” He raised his hand, the familiar magic flowing through him as he swiped it across his body, an illusion taking shape…a sharp purple suit appearing, his jawline more defined, his smile dazzling. He looked down at himself, nodding in approval. “Shit, I forgot to tell Aqol where the date is going to be,” he muttered, frowning slightly. “Why didn’t he ask?”
Fungar interrupted his thoughts, his tone exasperated. “You’re talking to yourself, Dax. Get a grip.”
Dax shook his head, a small laugh escaping him. “Right. Time to ask Ember for another favor,” he said, turning and making his way toward her room. He passed Sirius on the way, the older man jogging around the ship under Mack’s watchful eye. Mack, the golem who had taken on the role of trainer for Sirius, had them up early, running drills and exercises. Dax gave Sirius a nod as he passed, a silent acknowledgment of the effort Sirius was putting in.
Dax crept around the corner of Ember’s cabin door where curious sounds were coming from behind. Most people would know to stay away, let alone knock. But Dax wasn’t most people. He raised his fist and rapped on the wood. Muffled shuffling and a few sharp clatters came from inside before the door cracked open, revealing only Ember’s narrowed eyes.
“Dax,” she said, voice like gravel. “Someone dead?”
“No, but it’s still urgent.” He leaned in, unperturbed. “I need you to tell Aqol where the date is tonight.”
Her face glowed faintly…anger flashing in her eyes. But after a deep breath, she grumbled in reluctant agreement. “Fine. I’ll send a message to Aqol.” She jerked her hand forward, pointing in the direction away from her. “Now, fuck off.”

The Past Never Stays in the Past

The morning air was crisp, a slight chill hanging over the deck of The Valiant. The hum of the airship’s engines vibrated through the ship, a constant reminder of their journey toward New Moonshire. Mack stood with her arms folded, her metallic frame glinting faintly in the early light. Across from her, Sirius was sweating, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he tried, and repeatedly failed, to mimic her movements.
“Sirius, you need to keep practicing,” Mack said, her voice even, though there was a hint of encouragement in her tone. “It’s okay if you don’t get it the first time. Just don’t stop.” Her glowing eyes were fixed on him, her posture rigid but attentive.
Sirius wiped his brow with the back of his hand, his legs trembling slightly as he tried again, lifting his arms in what was supposed to be a defensive stance. His body was too stiff, his movements awkward, as if every muscle fought against him. He looked at Mack, frustration etched into his features. “Like this?” he asked, his voice a mix of hope and exasperation.
Mack observed him in silence for a moment, the gears within her mechanical form whirring softly as she tilted her head. She couldn’t help but marvel…though not for the first time…at how truly terrible Sirius was at anything physical. It was almost impressive, in a twisted way. She sighed, a sound like the release of steam, and hesitated before speaking.
“Alright, Sirius,” she finally said, her voice softening just a fraction. “Let’s try something else.” She glanced around, her eyes settling on a broom handle near the edge of the deck. She picked it up, examining it for a moment before nodding in satisfaction. Turning back to Sirius, she handed him the broom handle. “This is your sword now,” she said, her voice taking on a more commanding tone. “Pretend it’s real. Take a fighting stance. You need to be ready for the next move your opponent makes. Understand?”
Sirius took the stick, his fingers curling around the rough bark. He looked down at it, then back at Mack, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “A fighting stance,” he echoed, his voice trailing off as he tried to remember what she’d shown him earlier. He spread his feet apart, bending his knees slightly, the stick held awkwardly in front of him.
Mack watched, her critical gaze scanning his posture. She could see the hesitation in his movements, the lack of confidence that radiated from every awkward shift of his feet. She stepped closer, her metal hand reaching out to adjust his grip on the stick, her touch surprisingly gentle. “No, like this,” she said, guiding his hands. “Keep your feet shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees slightly…stay light, stay ready. You need to be able to move at a moment’s notice.”
Sirius nodded, his eyes focused on her face as she adjusted his stance. He took a deep breath, trying to push the frustration out of his mind. He had never been good at this…never been good at fighting, at moving his body the way others seemed to do so naturally. But he couldn’t afford to fail, not now, not with everything that was at stake.
“Better,” Mack said, stepping back, her eyes meeting his. There was a glimmer of something in her gaze…approval, maybe, or at least acknowledgment of his effort. “Now, imagine your opponent is right in front of you. They’re about to strike. What do you do?”
Sirius swallowed, his throat dry. He shifted his weight, his eyes narrowing as he imagined an attacker before him. He tightened his grip on the stick, lifting it slightly, his heart pounding in his chest. “I… block?” he said, his voice uncertain.
Mack nodded, her expression unreadable. “Good. But don’t just block…counter. Use their momentum against them. Fighting isn’t about strength, Sirius. It’s about leverage, timing. You need to be smarter, faster. Especially against opponents stronger than you.”
Sirius took another breath, trying to let her words sink in. He moved the stick, practicing a block, then a counterstrike, his movements still slow, still awkward, but there was a determination in his eyes now that hadn’t been there before.
Mack watched him, her arms folding across her chest once more. “Again,” she said, her voice firm. “Keep going until it feels natural. You won’t learn this overnight. But you will learn.”
Sirius nodded, his jaw set in determination. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back, his muscles aching, but he wouldn’t stop. Not now. He swung the stick again, focusing on his stance, on his movements, on the words Mack had spoken. He would get this. He had to.
The stick slipped from his fingers suddenly, clattering to the deck. “Damn it,” Sirius cursed, his frustration boiling over.
Before Mack could respond, a voice echoed out…familiar, and yet out of place. It seemed to come from within Sirius himself, a haunting memory brought to life. It was Char’s voice, carrying with it a sense of determination tinged with vulnerability. “I’m sorry, Mack. I can get this. Please, don’t give up on me yet.”
Mack froze, her mechanical frame stiffening at the sound. For a moment, she was pulled back…back to those days training Char, watching her struggle, seeing that same look of frustration and determination. The voice faded, and she blinked, her gaze refocusing on Sirius, who was staring at her with concern in his eyes.
“Mack?” Sirius asked, his voice soft, hesitant. “Are you okay?”
Mack shook herself, the whirring of her internal mechanisms almost audible as she recalibrated. She met Sirius’s gaze, her expression softening, though her voice remained steady. “Yeah. I’m fine.” She gave a small nod, her eyes locking onto his. “Let’s see your stance again, Sirius.”
Sirius nodded, a hint of uncertainty still in his gaze, but he bent down, picking up the stick once more. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and moved into the stance Mack had shown him. This time, his movements were smoother, more deliberate. His feet were firmly planted, his grip on the stick strong. He looked up at Mack, waiting for her assessment.
A smile tugged at the corner of Mack’s lips, her eyes reflecting a warmth that was rarely seen. “Perfect,” she said, her voice almost soft. “That’s it, Sirius.”
Sirius’s eyes widened slightly, surprise and relief washing over his features. He held the stance, his heart pounding…not from exertion, but from the sense of accomplishment that filled him. For the first time, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he could do this.
Mack nodded, her smile growing just a little. “Good work. Now, let’s keep going. We’re just getting started.”

Friends on a date

The library on the ship was small but carefully arranged. A single table sat in the center, surrounded by six chairs, and three windows cast golden bars of light across the room, illuminating rows of bookshelves on every wall except for the one holding the only door. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, giving the room a serene, almost sacred feel.
Peach, with a quiet, searching gaze, placed the star blade Sol…a weapon forged by the god Lesoleil…on a chair across from him. The blade glinted faintly, the light catching along its edge as if it were breathing. Tavina’s spirit resided within that blade, the ancient warrior bound to this ethereal vessel, and Peach sensed a flicker of presence as he settled into his seat.
Peach was the first to speak, his voice shy and tentative. “I, um… I haven’t really had friends to do this sort of thing with before. I’m not even sure how to start.”
Tavina’s voice echoed softly within Peach’s mind, gentle but with an undercurrent of command that hinted at the commander she once was. “Then let’s just… talk. We can start anywhere. It doesn’t need to be planned.”
Peach took a breath, thinking. “Alright. What’s your favorite color? Mine’s yellow.”
A brief pause, and then Tavina chuckled in Peach’s mind, a warm sound that caught him off guard. “Yellow’s a fine color. Mine is gold, though…specifically, the gold that reflects the sun. It reminds me of Lesoleil and my days as a commander for the Golden Blades.”
Peach smiled, imagining sunflowers. “I like the yellow of sunflowers, too. They used to grow wild around my grandfather’s workshop. He loved them.” Peach hesitated before speaking again. “What… what were you like? Before… before you became part of Sol?”
There was a long silence, and Peach could feel Tavina’s hesitation, a reluctance to dredge up memories of a life lost. But Tavina answered, her voice gentler, as if recalling something precious and painful. “I was… a commander,” she said slowly. “Commander of the Golden Blades, an army sworn to Lesoleil. We fought against darkness, wielding his light as a weapon. I had a friend, a shieldmaiden named Jora. Maybe… something more, given time. But then came the Dark Legion, led by Azrakon, a twisted warlock serving Lelune, goddess of darkness and stolen moons.”
Tavina’s tone grew sharper, as if she could see the battlefield before her even now. “Jora took an arrow meant for me. She sacrificed herself. And with that resolve, I faced Azrakon. We fought… and I killed him. But as I lay dying, I crawled to Jora’s side. Together till the end, we’d said. So I kept my promise.” There was a heaviness in Tavina’s voice that Peach could feel in his own chest, the weight of an ancient sorrow.
Peach let the silence linger before speaking. “I’m from Ruunmaire, a city with towers made of stone trees that stretch high above the land. My grandfather was a woodcarver, part of a guild there. They build things for the city.” He smiled, remembering the scent of freshly carved wood and his grandfather’s gentle hands guiding his own. “What about you? Where are you from, Tavina?”
“Deveron,” Tavina said simply. “A continent torn by wars and darkness. Not much else worth saying.” She paused, her tone shifting. “You’re a Demonoch, Peach. They say you carry the blood of a malevolent god.”
“Edmeera,” Peach answered, almost flinching. The name felt like poison on his tongue.
Tavina’s tone softened. “That doesn’t define you, Peach. I see who you are. You carry light, even if you don’t know it. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” A pause. “Let them burn a thousand times in Drathmar if they do.”
Peach’s eyes stung, his voice quieter. “Thank you. Edmeera has plagued my family. My father…an abuser… he’s become a monster, taking what he wants by force, reveling in Edmeera’s influence.”
A sympathetic silence followed, and then Tavina’s voice was low, almost like a whisper. “Your sister Orianna… she wants to redeem him, doesn’t she? Do you think it’s possible?”
Peach’s gaze dropped to the table. “No. He’s gone too far. He even killed my grandfathers in Edmeera’s name.”
Tavina’s voice was firm, fierce. “Then when we meet him, I will be ready. For you, Peach, I will fight until my last spark. I’ll need to regain my strength, my full power. When the time comes… you may choose another wielder. You don’t have to carry this burden.”
Peach shook his head, his words resolute. “No. I’ll follow you into the sun, Tavina. I won’t pass this fate to my brother.” His gaze was steady, his voice unwavering.
Tavina seemed moved, the weight of ancient bonds and new ones blending together. “You’re a good heart, Peach. Brighter than you know.”
The two fell into lighter conversation, sharing stories, their laughter echoing softly through the library as the hours slipped by. In that quiet space, with only the drifting dust and the weight of shared memories, they talked simply, slowly forming a friendship to be forged in the fire and made strong as steel.

Middle ground

Mack finished training with Sirius, her heavy, stone-carved limbs coming to rest as she looked over at him with a calm, steady gaze. Her voice was even as she gave him an encouraging nod. “Good job today. Same time tomorrow.”
Sirius let out a groan, slumping in exhaustion, but Mack only tilted her head, stone face betraying just a hint of amusement. She had heard all his complaints before; they’d be back at it tomorrow, groan or no groan.
After parting ways with Sirius, Mack lumbered down the narrow hallways, her footsteps echoing softly. She headed to Dax’s quarters, seeking a scarf to give Venoxyin…something thoughtful but simple. Venoxyin had a way of blending into the background, and Mack had learned to find traces of someone and locating them with a bit of intuition. Following her instinct, she made her way to the cargo hold. Sure enough, on top of a large aether pipe, Venoxyin lay, half-hidden but watching as Mack approached. a telltale shimmer that betrayed her position, and Mack couldn’t help but smile, her advantage clear.
When Venoxyin saw her, she stepped out of the shadows. “Hey, Mack. How’s your friend and his date?”
Mack considered the question, her face impassive. “Hasn’t happened yet. Not really my thing though.”
Venoxyin shrugged, her gaze distant. “Yeah… mine either. Romance just feels… slow. Complicated, maybe. But… I don’t want to mess things up with Christine.” She paused, the vulnerability in her voice sharp against her usual nonchalance. “I feel like… I’m out of my element. What would you do?”
“First of all, you’re never out of chances,” she said, her voice a low rumble. “And… I can be your middle ground. Someone who keeps things steady if it gets… complicated.”
A slight smile tugged at Venoxyin’s lips, and she nodded. “Alright, middle ground.“
Mack held onto the scarf.