As Tazaro sat at his desk to practice breathing fire to light the wick of a portable lantern, Sheeva skimmed through one of his sketchbooks she found buried in his desk. She happened upon it when they looked for a better place for the ragora since it would chitter in fear whenever Tazaro would practice with the fire spell.

While Tazaro disappeared for a few seconds to place the frightened plant in the kitchen on the windowsill, Sheeva stuck the tattered, brown-leather book beneath her pillow.

Hopefully, Burke would be happier in the kitchen, finally receiving all the scraps and sunlight it could want.

She paused on the page of a prankful spyglass that would give someone a black eye upon use, suddenly remembering that he had completed the Stargazer and had asked her if she wanted to be there for its “maiden voyage,” so-to-speak.

Rather, she was certain he was going to ask her if it could be a “date,” but she fought to still the butterflies in her stomach at the reminder and forced the words to her mouth before she could digest them back.

“Do you still want to see if your Stargazer works?”

Tazaro stopped and turned to look at her, somehow having forgotten about the Stargazer, and upon seeing the notebook, his face paled. He reached for it, and she handed it to him.

“Where did you find this?” He asked, embarrassed that she saw all the silly prankster things he wanted to make. Even worse, the ridiculous names he tried to coin for them.

“Your desk.” She answered, unconcerned. “About the Stargazer, did you still want to test it out?” She asked again, genuinely curious. He blinked and nodded slowly, a nervous smile on his face as he recalled that he had been planning to use it as a possible date. He wondered if the bottle of wine he had even bought in anticipation was still there.

“Um, sure? Didn’t get a chance to because…it was raining the night before we left.” He admitted, not about to “rehash the coroner’s report.” He shoved the book deep into the desk drawer, still embarrassed.

“How about now?” She asked. He jerked his head back to her.

Sheeva almost laughed at the look on his face coupled with how forcefully he turned his head. The uncertainty grew in his now worried citrine eyes. She nodded at him and gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile for reassurance.

“I am serious, you know. I would not ask such a thing so lightly.” She stated, more sternly than she intended.

Tazaro’s eyes widened at her adamance, and he felt an awkward smirk stretch the corner of his mouth.

“We’d have to cover your wing somehow,” He countered. He leaned back in his chair and propped his foot upon the edge of his desk. Since their conversation during the thunderstorm, he began to embrace comfortable positions such as this. Sheeva paid it no mind, and the only harm it did was give him a dead leg if he did it for too long.

Sheeva slipped off of the bed, stepped next to him, and leaned up over his desk to peer at the sky through the open window. Oblivious to his looking her over in interest, she was thankful to see the clear skies littered with stars. Sheeva backed off, rapidly trailed a sigil in the air, and closed her eyes in focus for something.

Tazaro, wondering what kind of spell she was trying to cast, waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

When whatever was supposed to happen didn't, Sheeva grumbled about it and grabbed the small, green blanket off of his bed to wrap around her head and shoulders.

“Let us go now. The sky is clear. If it truly does work, we should be able to see many things.” She suggested with a cheerful glint in her eye and a slight smile on her lips.

"What spell was that supposed to be?" He asked. Sheeva waved it off.

"Disguising spell. I apparently don't have the energy for it." She pouted, then seemed to perk up again.

"But, come on, let’s go see! Don't you want to know if it works? You worked so hard on it!" She goaded.

He felt his lips curl at her contagious excitement, and he dropped his leg from the desk. He turned to her and leaned his head on his arm. Maybe, he could elicit more of this...adorableness, if he dared to describe it that way.

“The workshop's likely locked.” He reminded her, though as he thumbed through his keyring, found the key for the workshop. Hopefully, Rin had not had a mind to change the locks, and the key would still work. Maybe, he could joke with her, somehow, or convince her to show him how to pick a lock.

She fought a roll of her eyes and thought of a retort, wondering if he was embarrassed or frightened about showing her what he had worked so hard on. As she studied the playful smile on his face and the amusement in his eyes, she slowly understood that he was messing with her, as he had been doing often lately.

“I can pick the lock.” She replied, giving him a mischievous smirk. That expression was a first, and it sent a thrill through his veins as he wondered if she had a playful side he was unaware of. His eyes widened, and a smile cracked on his face at the thought of it.

He told himself that if Rin caught him in the workshop, he would be happier to see him alive than mad, showing a similar reaction to their situation as Tyler had.

"And if that fails, I'll break down the door, and I just might be inclined to use your head to do so."

Tazaro frowned and scoffed indignantly.

“That’s not–” He began, about to say necessary, but as he realized he was almost out of protests and that she was insistent due to what appeared to be genuine curiosity, he relented quickly.

“Alright.” He agreed. Sheeva seemed to skip to and knelt by her bag to grab her lockpicking tools, then walked through the bedroom door with an unnatural pep in her step. Tazaro paused to shut his bedroom door, chuckling to himself as she continued down the hall.

Vincent was sitting in his usual chair, nose stuffed in a book, though watching the two, as always, over the cracked spine of what Tazaro figured to be a science-fiction novel, given by the grotesque, slimy alien creature on the book cover.

“You two are the bravest zombies I’ve ever met. Heading out?” Vincent asked, shooting a knowing look after the two of them.

“Uh, yeah. I guess. It’s the dead of night. Should be fine.” Tazaro answered. Sheeva did not wait around, and briefly paused to utter a hasty “see you later,” then stepped out into the cool night air. “We’ll, uh, stick to the back-roads,” He assured.

“Right. Make good choices!” Vincent said with a wave and a smile.

Tazaro ignored the comment and rushed out the door, looking for Sheeva. She had already made it down the steps and appeared to be waiting for him in a nonchalant lean against the stairway rail. With how eager she seemed to get outside, it surprised him a little that she would be waiting, and he turned to lock the door before following her down the rickety old steps.

He stopped her as she started to take the main roads, redirecting them to wander the backstreets towards the workshop. Sure, it would take longer, but considering most people would be asleep at this time of night, taking the sideway lowered the risk of discovery.

As he watched her meander a few steps ahead of him, Tazaro got the impression that Sheeva was more calm than usual, as she would take her time when looking at things, eyes fixed instead of darting around. When she stopped to stare at someone's windowsill garden plot and plucked a few cherry tomatoes from a plant, he smiled, relieved that she could be at peace for a change.

“I think this is the first time we’ve walked somewhere, and you haven’t been overly cautious.” Tazaro pointed out. Sheeva paused, and swallowed the sweet tomato and nodded.

“Mysterious and sinister as Bartholomew may seem sometimes, I trust his information that Zakaraia is no longer on Vivroa.” She explained, pausing to examine the only lit doorway on their current street. The red-tinted, stained-glass oil-lantern gave the door an even creepier hue, and as she squinted her eyes to see the etchings of some indiscernible mark, she huffed at herself. With a wave of her hand, she summoned her light orb and guided it above the door frame.

A square with a detailed carving of a leaf inside it sat amid a prism. Sheeva dismissed it as a hobo mark or denotation of a secret club. Or maybe, it was the location of an underground market. Either way, she hoped it wasn't another branch of the lucrative and scandalous sex-club she had been duped into entering when searching for Llyud. She cringed at the thought and turned away to follow Tazaro further down the back alley street.

Once they reached Alkurik’s Plaza, Sheeva stared at the Farmer God’s statue for a moment in contemplation, then stared at her reflection in the water. Her scowl was no longer befitting, and only seemed to foster a feeling of hideousness.

“You know…” She began, then stopped, crossing her arms as well as she could to self-soothe. “I could have died, and–and I realized that I’ve…I feel I’ve wasted so much of my life in pursuit, and have missed…so much.” She admitted, then tsked scornfully at her mushiness.

“It won’t do well to be so pitiful, and sitting around is driving me nuts. I want to…accomplish things, to appreciate the small things, to allow myself to…simply be. A ‘change of pace,’ as it were. It’ll be-it will be a journey of discovery.” She stated, then smiled, pleased with herself.

Tazaro’s solemn gaze locked onto the bale of hay on Alkurik’s shoulders as it spit out a stream of water from the fountain.

“So you…want a change of pace with a little slice-of-life?” He offered, dropping his gaze to look at her for confirmation.

Her smile only grew until it beamed, radiantly.

“Yes!” She affirmed, highly pleased. Feeling abnormally vulnerable and suddenly shy about it, she collected herself, and withdrew. With a chuckle, she offered a small example of one of the first things she sought to do.

“And I believe I shall start with a little stargazing with a friend,” she chuckled softly, and continued.

“You realize that–if it works–you’ve built something that can scour the heavens, and have probably unlocked vast details that we wouldn’t have otherwise, right? If you wanted to, you could record everything you find and publish it!”

Tazaro felt sheepish, mildly telling himself that she seemed to expect far more than he was capable of.

“Ah, well–that’s if it works,” He downplayed, trying to remain steadfast as he shoved his hands in his pockets, fidgeting with his keys as he mused on the situation. This leisurely “stroll” had him in a tizzy, pink on his cheeks and the cheerful nervous knot in his chest at the prospect of himself publishing a book, let alone something that could potentially revolutionize Astronomy.

“Anyway, let’s keep going,” he urged, pressing past the statue and towards the workshop at the edge of the plaza. When they reached the door, Sheeva crouched down and fiddled with the lock before Tazaro could stop her. Instead, he looked around, hoping no one was watching as he remembered what happened in the clock tower. She stood back up, unsuccessful.

“It’s much more difficult to do with this damn cast,” Sheeva whispered.

"Here, let me." Tazaro fought to keep a straight face, fished his keys from his pocket, muttered a bullshit word to appear casting a spell, and opened the door.

Sheeva copied his head-tilt of curiosity, then gave a complimentary eye-roll as he held up his keys along with a cheeky grin. She hurried past him to hide her look of amusement.

Tazaro slipped in too, shut the door, and locked it.

The inside was quite dark, even with the limited moonlight streaming in through the windows, and with the help of a carefully-cast illumination spell, Tazaro searched for the lantern. It was still hanging by the door, appearing untouched for a while judging by the fine layer of sawdust. The hinges to its tiny, glass-paned door squeaked as he opened it up, and, as he had spent all evening practicing, trailed the wavy fire sigil in the air and blew a breath of fire into it.

He had to give himself credit where credit was due; he felt he had improved greatly, considering he lacked enough room to practice and worried he would accidentally burn his house down. He had already scorched his beloved oak heartwood desk, not to mention that the ragora was now terrified of his fire spell.

Sheeva gave a “hm” in a gentle tone, something Tazaro began to think was her way of giving him praise, but, in case he was reading too much into it, asked her nervously: what?

"It just...pisses me off, how easy you make that look." She grunted, crossing her arms and heading towards the window display to view the furniture there.

"Oh? Do my ears deceive me? Is that a compliment, Sheeva?" He called after her. He heard her sigh in defeat, and smirked.

"Tam…It's a compliment." She admitted, keeping her back turned to hide her smile.

Giddy and riding high, Tazaro stared at the firelight burning away in the lantern. It spread a warm glow over him, and he shook his head as his brain threw the idea about it being romantic at him. A flicker of hope ignited itself, and he felt his pulse quicken and bring out the light, carefree cheer bubbling within. However, as he registered his cold feet, Tazaro looked around for Bartholomew, wondering if the bastard was going to interrupt them this time. He hoped not, considering that they now had complete privacy.

His lips and fingers tingled as he began to imagine finally kissing her here, curious to know if maybe Sheeva was planning such a thing, what with all the “journey of discovery” talk they had shared moments ago. As bemusing as his thought process was, such boldness was likely inaccurate and totally unlike Sheeva. She would have probably been unromantically upfront about her intent…or maybe not, as he recalled her gentle grasp of his hand the week before and the lean into his space.

Still, he glanced at her across the way as she ogled some of the decorative pieces of furniture, some old projects of his, some old projects of Rin's, and some entirely new, crafted after Tazaro's untimely "death." Her straight black hair had grown quite a bit, and now billowed over her shoulders and moved like silk strands as she turned her head to look around the shop, red eyes alight with admiration and that passive smile on her face. Her behavior further disproved his thoughts as she paused to examine his ornate tinderbox, gently opening the cedarwood chest. She seemed far too calm.

Yup. Completely unlike Sheeva. Tazaro confirmed and shook his head slowly at himself.

“You know, I would have thought you would have looked around enough with Pteryx.” He commented, surprised to find her so curiously alight with enthrallment.

“Birds don’t see things the same way we do, but they can hear better, at least.” Sheeva pointed out, feeling the thrill of excitement stab through her spine at the sound of his voice, momentarily forgetting he was there. Of course, the sudden dawning that she definitely might have been the "cute girl" he'd wanted to deliver a message to with the small yellow bird didn't help keep her calm.

“Oh. Great. What else did you learn?” He asked, wondering if she had overheard his terrible singing voice as he sang along to some of Rin’s old records to force himself to stay awake to finish the project.

She offered up a silent thanks to whatever god or goddess was embodied by the set of scales for tipping the conversation in her favor, figuring he or she was in charge of evening odds.

“You have a nice array of insults for machines that don’t listen to you.” Sheeva smiled. “I think my favorite is still ‘lump of fuck.’ It’s fun to say.” She admitted. Tazaro smirked and covered his bashful look with a hand, cleared his throat, then motioned for her to follow him.

He led her up into the loft, walking up to an object covered in a giant blanket. With a hook on a long stick, Tazaro pulled the blanket off, revealing the thing. It was massive and made of wood, seeking to take up as much of the height of the room as possible. A clear glass orb set in place at the aperture reflected the lantern's light as Tazaro hung the lantern from a support beam. He pulled a chain and opened up the hatch in the roof, brushing off the leaves that slid into the building and onto the machine’s frame.

Sheeva stood by as she watched Tazaro fold the blanket he covered the machine with to drape it over the floor, grab the pillow from his bed, and sit down to adjust the aperture of the Stargazer, peering through via a small scope. She followed the giant crystal with her eyes as it moved up, down, and sideways.

“Ok.” Tazaro exhaled sharply, fighting the tremble of nerves and thrill. “I’ve got it pointing towards Celeste since Kursu is in its ‘new’ phase.” He stated, simultaneously grinning with excitement and appearing hesitant, unsure of what he would find. Tazaro took a deep nervous breath and leaned down to peer through the eyepiece.

His mouth dropped after an astonished "by the gods!" It snared Sheeva's curiosity, and she smiled with the contagious rush of excitement.

"What? What is it?"

Tazaro sat back to gather himself, then leaned over to look through it again. He looked up at Sheeva again, starstruck, and gawked for words.

"It's, it's incredible." He managed before leaning over once more, fidgeting with the gears and moving it while peering through the eyepiece.

“It really works! You can even see the tiniest things! And, the detail, it's just–it's fantastic! I can’t believe it!” Tazaro stood sharply and let out a stifled, excited scream, then paced the room, a wide-spread grin on his face at his success. "Holy shit!" He barked, returning to the machine to peer through it again in astonishment.

Sheeva covered her mouth with a hand to hide her smile. She did not want him to believe in the slightest that she was laughing at him, but the genuine reaction was contagious in its joy.

She jumped when he rushed to her and took her hand, begging her to sit with him and look through it.

“Take a look! Ah, wait, let me–sorry, I, uh, gotta move it back.” He interrupted, hunching back over and realigning it. He tilted his head and leveled his eyes with the cursor propped on the edge of the aperture. It was tiny and gold, and she only noticed it after him dragging her to his side and plopping her down next to him.

Sheeva leaned and held her eye to the eyepiece. Her eyes widened, and she jerked back her head to look at the view beyond the hatch, then peered back through the eyepiece. There was Celeste, stark-purple in its waxing-gibbous state amid the darkness of the sky. Tiny craters littered the surface, and they seemed to vary in size.

“I never imagined such a thing. It’s like a wheel of cheese.” She muttered, stunned. As she realized how silly that had sounded, she glanced at him in nerves, hoping he missed it. It appeared so; Tazaro’s attention was on the night sky, a broad, teary smile on his face.

He was searching frantically for some of their planets, wondering if he would be able to get a close-up of something that was even further than Kursu. Finding a red sphere, he decided to try to look at it.

“Here. Let me try to focus in on Isthgar.” He asked, adjusting it some more. He peered through it, staying quiet for a few minutes, save for a muttered “wow” every once in a while. He finally sat back, a pleased smile on his face.

Sheeva leaned over and looked into the eyepiece. A red planet sat under scrutiny unawares, dotted with wisps of white that she thought might be clouds and spots of blue that she figured were oceans canvassing the planet. She wondered what kind of animals or plants were on it if it could sustain life.

“This is incredible.” She whispered, looking back at him, joy coursing through her veins. She blinked as she saw him holding his head in his hands.

“Are you feeling alright?” She called out, wondering if he was overwhelmed by success and excitement. He sniffled and wiped at his eyes, then chuckled.

“Yeah. I was, um, about to say: I wish Mom were here to see this. But, even if she were here, she-she wouldn’t be able to see it anyway!” He laughed, not caring how foolish he felt. At the realization that he could laugh so freely, he laughed even harder. “That’s so ridiculous of me!”

Sheeva gave a small laugh of her own.

“Still, I...I think she would be proud of you.” Sheeva whispered. She watched him calm and his face fall. It bothered her; she had meant the statement to be encouraging.

“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.” She admitted, averting her gaze back towards the sky beyond the hatch, sheepish with her admittance. Words were immeasurable to the amount of pride for the man beside her. How much she owed him for igniting a spark of life. How happy she was to have met him, too, and how lucky she was to witness such clarity of the heavens.

The warmth engulfed her chest and rose into her face, and as her eyes settled on his lips as he grinned at the stars, Sheeva fought to keep her gasp of realization as silent as possible.

Here they were, alone and unknown to the world, basking in a new, expansive universe to learn about, and her level of comfort seeped into every bone of her body. It was incredibly foreign, but she wasn’t at all frightened. Instead, the allure of a kiss tugged and strummed at her heartstrings, realizing after last week’s instance that she would much prefer to share such an experience with Tazaro.

In an attempt to anticipate what to expect, Sheeva pressed her fingers to her lips in gentle exploration, examining how they felt. They were small, thin, and dry, but as she dragged the tip of her finger along her bottom lip, it tickled, further driving her curiosity as she mused about how they would feel on his.

“Tazaro?” She asked, trying to break his attention away from wherever it was. He dropped his gaze from the skies and looked, then blinked in surprise with how close her face was to his.

Thin lips melded awkwardly against soft ones, and the surprised, muffled “mmph!” Tazaro gave tickled and vibrated Sheeva’s lips, causing her to give a small, muffled chuckle in return. Sheeva held contact for a second to take in the feeling, unsure what to do or how to do it.

Physically, his cheeks were warm, and as his lips puckered gently against hers, there was a tenderness that made her heart pitter-patter in her chest. Wondering if this was supposed to guide her somehow, she reciprocated the small action, thrilled to find how good it felt. How...natural.

It was difficult to place how she felt emotionally amid vast giddiness that was in turn overshadowed by curiosity…curiosity that had been so undeniably strong, she hadn’t asked Tazaro to invade his space in such a manner. The crushing guilt struck her to her core and eliminated the cheer, and she pulled back with a gasp at her disreputable self. When his confused citrine globes stared back at hers, Sheeva recoiled even more. When she registered how tightly his shirt was bound in her grasp, she felt worse, fearing she forced him into such a thing. Her eyes widened, and she let him go, almost shoving him away with disgust at herself.

“I, I’m sorry. I’m sorry–I shouldn’t have–I, I apologize.” She babbled, trying to ignore the insulting thoughts she was beginning to have.

“It’s-it’s late. We should go,” She huffed, cleared her throat, stood sharply, and began to pace in search for the blanket. Tazaro stared at her with an enamored, shy smile, trying to gather his thoughts. What a crazy last couple of minutes it had been. There never seemed to be a dull moment where Sheeva was involved.

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“Apologize? For what?” He asked, slowly getting to his feet.

“That was rude of me,” She whispered harshly, trying to discreetly dab at her eyes with the collar of her shirt. His confusion only grew, and he leaned against the support beam in the middle of the attic.

“I, I’m ok; it just, uh, took me by surprise.” He admitted, feeling the burn of his face as it turned deep-red. “Do you-d’you regret it?” He asked, stomach sinking with the thought.

She blushed and managed to squeak out an embarrassed “no.”

“But I should have asked.”

Tazaro held his tongue for a moment, fighting hard the hum of dismissal.

I’m just glad it happened at all.

“If you’re mad at yourself, um, don’t be.” He assured her.

"I am a hypocrite.” She babbled.

“You’re calling yourself a hypocrite? Because of a kiss?” He countered.

Tazaro heard her say something, but couldn’t discern what it was, momentarily deafened by the pounding of blood in his ears.

"Sheeva…" He began, wondering if this tied into her adamant nature toward respecting boundaries. "It's ok. Really. We all..." He paused, insisting on being delicate; bluntness might not help for this situation. "Start somewhere. You just took me by surprise. But, I’m ok. Really, I’m great!" He chuckled, aware of how his face burned with cheer.

It didn’t seem to console, and she picked furiously at her cast in nerves.

“We, uh–” He cleared his throat and rubbed at his chin. “We…probably should go, though, just in case someone shows up,” Tazaro decided, busying himself by shutting the hatch to the roof. As he lifted the blanket from the floor and shook it, he felt his face tense from disappointment; this was not at all how he wanted the evening to go. He sighed and continued to drape the blanket over the machine, pausing to stare at it as he wrestled his emotions.

Maybe small talk could alleviate both their bizarre states.

“I wish I could take this with me–Of course, I’d have to be able to get it out the door first, so...” He rolled his eyes at himself. “Never mind that.” He admitted sadly. He tutted at himself, out-of-sorts from the whirlwind of events.

Sheeva clicked her tongue and put down the blanket she finished wrapping around herself, irritated that she would have to struggle with it again before they finally left. She took a calming breath, stepped forth, formed some seals, and hovered her hand over the Stargazer. Blue light glowed, and he watched it shrink, becoming something small enough that he could put it in a gift box and wrap it if he wanted to. She dropped her hand and took a knee, drained. She had never used the particular spell on something that large.

“Until you have better control with this spell, I will shrink and expand it for you when you want to use it.” She offered, standing back up after breathing through her dizziness. He gently picked up the machine and held it. Such a giant machine, shrunken to fit in the palm of his hand. He could hardly believe it.

“Rin’s going to lose his mind when he sees my machine is gone.” He chuckled, staring at the now empty loft.

Sheeva didn’t respond and instead wrapped the blanket around herself again and stepped out of the workshop. Looking up at the sky, she took a deep breath. Thankfully, only the moon had bared witness to her ridiculousness.

They walked about a block away from the workshop before Sheeva spoke to bust the unbearable silence.

“What did you want to call that thing again?” She asked. Tazaro was still muddling over his thoughts, now with a bemused smirk on his face.

“The machine? A, uh, Stargazer.” He mumbled. He snorted, as now saying it aloud sounded even more ridiculous than it had when he drafted the idea.

“It's a stupid name, huh?” He asked, expecting her to nod. He felt the hairs on his arms stand up in a conditioned response as he imagined her telling him how idiotic it was. Instead of criticizing him, she shook her head.

“No. Why would it be?” She asked.

He slowed to a halt, stunned. The revelation sent a chill through his body.

“You really think so?” Tazaro called out. His voice echoed on the emptiness of the street.

“I do. I think it–Sheeva stopped when she realized she was talking to air, and looked back over her shoulder. She sighed at herself for not noticing she was leaving him behind and headed back to where he stood, then cleared her throat.

“I think it is practical. That is what the machine does, right? Allows you to view the stars?” She questioned. “And in incredible detail, I might add!”

“Um, well...yeah?” He admitted.

“Then call it what you want. Besides, it is your machine. You have the right to call it whatever you want.”

Tazaro inhaled sharply, brought to life by the freedom. He smiled warmly at her, and as he felt his body relax and his fears dissipate, he grinned.

“Wow. Thank you. I-I don’t know what to...I needed to hear that.” He babbled sheepishly.

Sheeva stared at him for a minute. She took in the way he smiled at her as she imagined him feeling great relief, and squinted her eyes at him.

“Did someone ridicule you for the names you give your machines?” She demanded to know. As Tazaro’s face fell and his orange eyes dropped toward the corner in shame, it confirmed her thoughts. She scowled in distaste.

“Hmph. Sorry to piss on your bonfire, but you should not hang yourself for something like that.” She grunted before turning and walking away. He blinked, wondering if she was saying an idiom wrong like she tended to do sometimes, but the idiom itself was unfamiliar.

“What does that mean?” He asked, running to catch up to her. She glanced at him as he appeared at her side.

“What does what mean?” She asked, slowing down as she thought about it for a quick second. “Piss on your bonfire?’ It means to upset or disappoint someone.”

She stopped entirely, surprised, and crossed her arms as she gave him a look.

“I thought you would know that one, considering your colorful language.”

Tazaro shook his head, snorting. Of course, he knew the phrase: piss on someone’s bonfire; he’d grown up hearing it from Tyler.

“No. The other one.” He corrected her.

“Hang yourself for it? ‘Cage yourself for it’? Have you never heard of this phrase?”

He shook his head, and followed her as she began to walk on. They walked in step for a moment as she thought of a way to explain it.

“Define yourself based on what others think, or act according to what they expect. The only person to decide what is right or wrong for you should be you. Not others. That includes ridicule for something that you’re passionate abo–no, especially things that you’re passionate about.”

He gave her a sideways glance, finding it ironic that she would not take her own advice and apply it to certain things about herself. He pushed the thought from his mind. She had heavier demons than he did by far, and he had no right to judge.

“Haven’t you ever been ridiculed, though? It’s destructive. It stays with you.”

She stopped, gave an indignant “huh!”, and set her hands on her hips. She beckoned for Tazaro to sit on a bench. Amazed again with her adamance, he did.

“Ta’hal portion aside, I am still a Cruinian. I may as well be the person to bring about the end of times. They ridicule me for my eyes and judge me simply for the circumstance of my birth. But people do not take the time to know that I like plants and reading, and learning about nature, among many other things. And, I guess I do play the part of ‘good samaritan’ from time to time,” She reluctantly admitted.

Though, as I say this, I realize Vincent’s right; I have never taken the time to know anyone else well enough, either, she added silently.

“Heh, right. Behold! Sheeva Jules: the Deathbringer! All you need is horns and a tail. Maybe an army of the undead,” He poked, leaning back and giving her a cheeky grin.

She sent him an unamused look, though he still noted the smirk on her face even as she sighed in her displeasure.

“Be serious, Tazaro!” She scolded, then softened. “Do you think I would be here if I listened to all the people that ridiculed me or spurned me?”

That I would…have accomplished even this much? She added silently.

Tazaro contemplated the question honestly, and slowly shook his head.

Convinced that she had him listening intently, Sheeva took a deep breath in through her nose, and let it slowly pass her lips with a pshew.

“Listen to me. Others do not define your worth–only you can do that. And, only you should.” She said as calmly as she could, hoping it would sink in.

He stared at the miniature Stargazer in his hand, feeling humbled as he mulled the words over and over in his head. He picked it up off his palm by its aperture and set it gently beside him on the bench, clasped his hands together, and leaned forward to prop himself up over his knees. He sighed heavily and hid his face as his eyes heated and welled with tears, embarrassed.

“Are you cry–

–NO. Just-just sweating from my eyeballs, ok?” He forced through clenched teeth with a mild chuckle. He dabbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

Sheeva looked up the street, then down the other way. There were no people. She shed the blanket she covered her wing with and draped it over his shoulders. Tazaro looked up in surprise and watched her hurry to an alleyway a couple of houses down to hide her wing.

He saw the flash of a ball of light and the spin of colors and caught himself smiling. The sentiment of space and time alone was nice, but unneeded. Still, he wrapped the blanket around himself, feeling the warmth of it on his back. He leaned against the wall and stared across the way as he tapped his fingers in contemplation on his knee.

Tazaro let out a “heh” as he realized how much he really “hung himself up” over things that now seemed silly–at least in comparison to Sheeva’s issues and even the future goals they had. Tazaro felt guilty as it dawned on him how unfair he acted toward previous women he had taken out on the rare date. Some dates had been agreed to after relentless pestering from the girl, despite his automatic disinterest. If not disinterested thanks to persistent pestering, they would ramble about things he could care less for. So, even if he were not quick to dismiss, he likely would have refused an offer for a second outing. And, if either of those two roadblocks failed, he simply turned them down thanks to expecting similar treatment from them that he had gotten from Kirin.

He shuddered a little as the pet name Kirin had given him ran through his head. Five years had passed, and it still terrorized him. He scowled at himself.

Only I can define my worth, hm? And, only I should?

He struggled with the unsettling shame that seeped into every fiber of his being as he tumbled her words in his head and applied them to his current musings. Tazaro had allowed Kirin to chop him into a fraction of a man–more sickeningly so, molded and shaped into whatever was fitting to her. He became nothing more than a thing, whittled away into someone that gave her everything that she wanted and got next to nothing in return.

And worse, he did all that for her? A selfish woman who cared little to nothing for others less fortunate, much less the man she was supposed to be living with and faithfully dating? The sudden epiphany simultaneously disgusted and amazed him.

As her blue, sappy, puppy-eyed look flashed in his mind, he blurted out a nasty, curt“Vilg oui!”

He looked over at the alleyway where Sheeva hid, wondering if she heard it. As the flashing of lights continued, it did not appear so.

With Vincent’s guidance five years ago, he managed to shape himself into an outwardly functional Tazaro. But, internally? Barely.

All he wanted to do was hide.

Hide in his secret, safe world of machines and woodworking. Create gadgets he would never share and build furniture that he could pour his heart and soul into on the off chance he wanted to be recognized. His crafts became something that he was proud of and that he could use to validate a sense of worth.

A sense of worth? He chuckled at himself and toward his folly for feeling the “ridiculous names” he came up with was something he should be ashamed of. Sheeva was right. They were practical. There were much sillier things he could have come up with.

He hummed in joy at himself as his spirit lifted. Hell yeah, he had worth and value! And, just because some shallow, conniving, twisted, cheating woman drilled it into his head that everything he knew and did was somehow wrong, it did not mean that she was right.

He looked back at the miniature Stargazer and smiled at it and himself, taking even more pride in it. He made the blueprints, carried them out, and had been able to look at one of their moons and one of their planets. Not to mention, the simple fact that the Stargazer worked was one hell of an accomplishment! It was an accomplishment he might have missed if Sheeva had not insisted they check it out, even though the machine had contributed to what might have been the second most awkward kiss of his life, and made Celeste “look like a wheel of cheese.”

Tazaro laughed wholly as he thought that maybe Sheeva was just as weird as he was to compare a moon to something edible. It fell into a chuckle as he felt the bashfulness spread on his face. Her estranged state after she kissed him seemed like an air of disappointment, and he winced. With the stern admittance that she was not ok, he felt even worse on her behalf. He wondered if he would have the opportunity to show her how fun and exciting kisses could be.

Probably not, He told himself. Perhaps, tonight had completely estranged them all-together into strictly “partners in search of a mass-murderer.”

He glanced down the street toward the alleyway Sheeva hid in, peeled himself off of the bench, tucked the blanket under his arm, and picked up the Stargazer.

Sheeva looked up at Tazaro as he stood in the entryway and dismissed her ball of light with a wave of her hand.

“Heard you laughing. Better?” She asked. Tazaro gave a self-conscious smile and nodded.

“Ah, yeah. Much better. Thank you.” He answered. Sheeva stood and reached for the blanket. He unraveled it and draped it around her shoulders in return.

“What...were you laughing about?”

“You called Celeste a ‘wheel of cheese.’ I think you might be just as strange as I am.” He answered.

Her eyes widened, and she hurried past him into the street. She walked in front of him, bringing a hand to her forehead in humiliation.

“I did not think you heard that. I hoped you had not.”

“Heh, you bet I did.” He teased warmly, happy he could still find her flustered state amusing.

“But if it makes you feel better, that moon does look like a wheel of cheese,” Tazaro added to alleviate the air of wrecked, scrambled nerves and hurried to catch up to her once more.

“Maybe, a nice gouda.” He joked with a playful smile and a glint in his eye.

Sheeva snorted and shook her head.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” She blurted as they continued down the street. Tazaro’s face fell slightly, mildly confused, mostly dismayed. The self-consciousness hit him like a sledgehammer.

Maybe the kiss really had estranged them.

“It is definitely a type of swiss. Probably good with a rogue tomato, vinegar, and a slice of bread.” She chuckled instead of berating him, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her smile.

He paused for a moment, an impressed look on his face. Not only had Sheeva pulled a fast one on him, but she had also made quite the quick, witty quip. He subtly reminded himself to stop worrying so much.

As she looked around and saw the last of the shops, Sheeva was sure they missed the turn they were supposed to take a while ago between the baker’s shop and the produce stand. She stopped and looked around, wondering if she should point it out. If she were honest with herself, she was unwilling to; cooped up for far too long.

“Huh. Alright. So...speaking of being silly, have you ever given an object a name?” He asked.

Sheeva crossed her arms and took a deep breath, deciding not to say anything at all about their location. She sat down on the porch of someone’s house. He sat down next to her and waited. A different ketze than the one they passed a few minutes ago strolled up to them and sniffed at them. Sheeva reached out to pet it.

“When Rose gave me my sword, she insisted I give it a name. I call ‘him’ Abraxas.”

Tazaro raised his eyebrows in interest at the name of choice.

“Abraxas? As in the God of Magic and Trickery? In which context did you mean that?”

Sheeva looked up from the ketze that had now crawled its way into her lap and curled up, now purring loudly as she scratched it behind its ear.

“Is that what the name came from? Hm, I suppose I should not be surprised that you know that.” She admitted. Tazaro feigned hurt feelings.

“Of course I would know that. There’s a constellation for that. The, uh, broken spear. Because why wouldn’t Abraxas give someone something that ‘leaves one headless in battle’ and have the spearhead fall off when you try to use it?” He laughed.

Sheeva clicked her tongue at the irony. It was an excellent ironic weapon on the god’s part and not one she had heard of before.

“Dozens of weapons to choose from, and that is what they went with?” She asked, picking the ketze up and staring at it. It turned into a long, lanky, black void as its body hung from her hands, though a diamond-shaped patch of white stretched along its belly and helped it stand out. It growled at her, annoyed, ears flattened back against its head.

“What others do you know of?” He asked. She set the ketze back in her lap and began to pet it again as she thought.

“There is supposedly a staff, Wittgeir, that will do either the opposite of what you want it to or carry out commands literally. Or, the Lingua Blade, that instead of cleaving an opponent in two, it licks the opponent.” He watched her face scrunch in distaste and pick at her ear. Her previously cheerful demeanor fell as she stared into space, ceasing in petting the cat. It writhed in her lap to demand more pets, but she didn’t respond.

“Hey, Sheeva,” Tazaro began, wanting to ask her where she’d gone, but changed his mind. “I think there’s a bow that, instead of shooting the arrow, it shoots you. Flings you hundreds of feet through the air. Hah, like a clay discus.’” Tazaro offered. There wasn’t any such weapon, but the suggestion worked as intended as she broke into a smile and laughed.

Sheeva chuckled softly at the image of a weapon launching a person through the air.

“Hm,” he pondered, then smirked. “Plate Armor that does nothing for defense, but instead, acts as a floatation device? Oh, or better yet–A flail that gets motion sickness!” He added with a wide grin. She giggled, then sat back.

“You know, I am sure there is a long list of bizarre concoctions and deceitful weapons that have been lost to history because their unwitting users have not survived.”

Tazaro’s face fell as he saw the unsettling truth in the statement.

“Oh? Oh. That’s a disturbing thought.”

He watched her mouth form a pout attractively as the ketze leaped off of her lap and sauntered away with its tail in the air, pleased with the attention it received. She childishly blew it a raspberry, then cleared her throat to continue her interrupted explanation.

“God of magic and trickery aside, Abraxas has no magical properties. At first, I tried to be funny, but then I realized I could psyche people out with the misleading title. Gives a nice edge in battle.” She explained.

“Psyche people out, huh?” He asked, an amused smile on his face. As though warning him against skepticism, she shook her head and wagged a finger at him.

“You’d be surprised at how much it works. I was, uh, pursuing a bounty in Raynak a couple of years ago for some spending money. Cornered the guy and his crew, drew Abraxas, discreetly slathered some lantern oil on it, and used my fire-breathing spell to ignite it. Half of them ran, and I’m sure the other half wet themselves.” She gave an out-of-character laugh. Tazaro laughed too, grinning madly at the image.

“Bounty folded like a sheet of paper. Got a nice hefty sum of cash for his head, too.”

Tazaro slowly stopped laughing and looked at her, unnerved as he imagined her killing someone for cash.

“His head? But, you-you took him alive though, right?” He asked. Sheeva silenced.

“Him?” She thought for a moment. “Yes.”

“You, um, don’t sometimes?” He asked. Sheeva hesitated.

“I do not kill unnecessarily. I try to keep my targets alive, but some contracts end in ‘suicide-by-bounty-hunter.’ Suppose death is better than rotting in jail for some people.” She answered honestly.

When Tazaro crossed his arms and stared at the cobblestone in thought with a mildly frightened look on his face, Sheeva sighed to herself and turned away. Damn her and her mouth sometimes.

“We should head back.” She suggested. She stood and brushed off the remnants of fur left on her clothing.

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Ok.” He mumbled unenthusiastically.

Tazaro took his time leading the way back to the apartment, tripping over his shuffled, tired feet as he wrestled with his guilt. He had gone and made things weird with the question. As they neared the steps, he heaved a sigh, annoyed with himself.

“Hey, wait a minute.” He called to her. She stopped halfway up the steps. He watched her fight with an annoyed expression and eventually settle into a pout, avoiding eye contact. If not due to his idiocy, it would be cute.

“I wasn’t trying to be rude, or-or judge you or anything. I’m just new to the idea of ‘suicide-by-bounty-hunter.’ Bit of a…culture shock moment, I guess.” He announced, hoping to clear the air. She blinked, confused, and shook her head at herself.

“You, you needn’t worry, I wasn’t…truly, you are not disgusted?” She asked, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. Tazaro nodded for reassurance.

“Huh, funny, I…thought I was being too blunt. Sometimes I take it too far.” She replied, a small smile on her face as she recalled the awkward kiss she gave him. She snorted at herself and turned.

Sheeva finished climbing the steps and leaned against the rail as she waited for him to follow, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. As a gentle breeze swept across the hallway, it carried away the warmth of embarrassment and brought with it a spot of courage. Maybe, if she asked this time, things might go better.

“Tazaro,” She began, stopping to clear her throat and choose her following words carefully, thinking that bluntness was not the best way to go about certain things. “I have much to learn, but perhaps, you could show me, instead?” A blush formed on her cheeks as she picked at the bindings of the cast in wait, her other hand raised to her mouth as she tenderly touched her lips. Her voice fell into a whisper, and she doubted he heard it.

Shit. Kiss me, instead, I meant to say.

She pursed her lips, annoyed with her meekness.

Damn it, Sheeva, what the hell was that?

“Wait, Tazaro, I meant that you could kiss–She tried, attempting to stop him at the top of the steps.

–You really think I can teach you stuff? Honestly, I think I can learn a lot from you, instead,” Tazaro answered, gently pushing past her to the door as he fished his keys from his pocket. He jammed his keys in the lock, opened the door, and stepped inside, then turned to face her as he held the door open.

When he saw the perplexed look on Sheeva’s face as she pressed her fingertips to her lips, lost in her own thoughts, it dawned on him. However, before he could save face, she moved. She shuffled past him and grabbed the device off his palm, heading for the balcony. Tazaro stepped closer indoors, then leaned against the wall, sighed, and dropped his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Gods be damned, you blew it.”

“Have a nice outing?” Vincent asked, still awake, still sitting in his chair. Tazaro jumped as he felt his skin crawl and jerked his head in the direction, distracted and unaware of his real-time surroundings.

“Fuck, shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” Tazaro barked, further frustrated. “It’s the middle of the night!”

Vincent chuckled and shrugged.

“This is the middle of my day. You should be asleep.”

“Yeah, well–He stopped and looked over as the balcony door slid open, then redirected his gaze to the floor as she walked back in and past him without a word. Whatever retort Tazaro had come up with was long gone, replaced by derisive thoughts.

Sheeva paused in the hallway and turned to look at him, opening her mouth to say something, anything, that might restore peace. Tazaro sternly avoided her gaze. Maybe if she pretended nothing happened, they would eventually get over it. She sighed and forced the spot of hope away; they seemed to hold a habit of talking about and coming to terms with things. She would have to wait.

“I am going to bed. Hopefully, these last two weeks will pass quickly. Be sure to do your nightly wing-stretches.” She stated.

“Mm,” Tazaro hummed, unenthusiastically. She took a deep breath and buried her emotions, continuing to Tazaro’s room and crawling into the bed, fully embarrassed with herself.

In his chair, Vincent examined the two’s interaction at the entrance to the hallway, and as Tazaro crossed his arms and let out a tense breath that carried his shoulders with it, Vincent marked the page he was on and set his book down.

“Well, something happened,” He pointed out.

Tazaro glanced at him briefly before looking away, then chewed on his lip for a moment, finding humor in the inconveniences and misunderstandings of the evening. Now that the airs began to settle, he chuckled at some of it with a half-cocked grin. He shook his head at himself and sighed again, then sat down on the couch with an exaggerated wave of his hands.

“Did you know your roommate’s an idiot?” Tazaro joked to aid in the dissipation of his worries.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but you certainly have your moments. What did you do this time?” Vincent snickered, amused with his reply.

“Sheeva...kissed me,” Tazaro murmured, a smirk growing on his face. "And she thinks she went too far. And I completely missed the opportunity to–pfft, ‘show her otherwise,’ as she suggested. But, there’ll be another opportunity. Maybe." He added, trying to level with himself and his budding hopes.

“Oh?” Vincent’s eyebrow rose in curiosity. “It’s about time. How’d it go?”

“Awkward?” That had to be the right word for it, though a massive understatement. “Yeah.” He decided.

“Are you that bad of a kisser?” Vincent teased. Tazaro snorted and gave Vincent a rude gesture.

“Vilg oui, man.” He laughed, shaking his head. “It was just...surprising. But, uh, other than that, I had a good time. I needed it. Plus, the Stargazer works!” He announced, hoping to steer Vincent off-topic.

“Well, holy shit! Congratulations! Can you show me?” Vincent asked. Not giving Tazaro the chance to dismiss him, Vincent stood, headed for the balcony, and slid it open. Here the thing was, standing about as tall as himself, on a set of wheels and complex dials and levers and tiny gears that only Tazaro, despite all his energies and rapid-tracks of thought, could possibly put together and manipulate. He expected it to be larger, considering Tazaro talked about how he needed all the space in the loft.

“I guess she didn’t have enough space to expand it,” Tazaro stated, sliding the door shut behind him. He stooped and rolled it around, checking through the eyepiece to see what they would be looking at.

“Is that what that blue light was?” Vincent asked. Tazaro nodded shortly, sitting back as he paused to take the situation in. It still felt incredibly surreal, as though this were all a vivid dream and he’d simply fallen asleep on his desk.

“She shrunk this thing down from the workshop, and I carried it in my hands. It’s, it’s pretty unreal–but incredible! I mean, something like that has to be super useful.” He craned his head and squinted to look through the cursor. Finding what he was hoping to see, he muttered a “wow” of awe.

“What?” Vincent asked, eager to know.

Tazaro looked up, then stood to get out of the way.

“Take a look.” He offered.

Vincent knelt, brushed his bangs out of his eyes, and peered. Through the glass, he could see a green sphere that took up almost all of the scope. His mouth popped open, and he followed the cursor.

“Is that Edriss?”

Tazaro nodded proudly, highly pleased with himself.

“Damn. I’m impressed.”

Vincent sat and leaned against the rail of the balcony, overwhelmed. A grin cracked on his face, and he looked up at the vast expanse of things Tazaro would be able to unlock, possibly classify, and eventually categorize, maybe to share with the world.

“You’re gonna do great things, Tazaro. Absolutely.”