The staff welcomed Itto instantly as he entered the pub, their tone suggesting he was a well-loved regular and not just a famous local.

Any change in the Seats was announced publicly, so there was plenty of gossip to be spread around about who was in-charge of what. The Guild might not be a governing agency but they were still highly influential.

In the scuffle between tables, Razlok dropped their hand from Itto’s arm and instead snagged the bottom hem of his shirt as an easier way to follow along.

The staff suggested in a hushed tone that given the news about the Light, they weren’t expecting anybody from the Guild to arrive. It seemed gossip did spread quickly.

Itto negotiated for a corner booth, away from the front entrance where they could have privacy. Razlok was a nobody, but patrons might be tempted to ask Itto questions about today’s events, if he were more accessible to them.

Razlok could hear other people in the pub, even a questioning use of Itto’s name, but the conversations were too muffled to pick out.

It was fine, even if they couldn’t currently see, Razlok could trust that Itto would take care of things. The deity didn’t need to be on guard all the time.

Speaking of which – “Since you’re familiar with the place, can ye order for me? Anything is fine, really.”

Razlok didn’t have the energy in them to care about specifics. Maybe some other day they could find their favorite foods, but today it was more about sustenance than a gourmet experience.

Itto complied, only questioning if Razlok drank and accepting the nod and hand wave gesture as an indicator of dealer’s choice.

They settled against the wooden bench-seat and got comfortable, wondering what topic they should bring up next with Itto, but the Seat of Metal beat them to it.

“What was your story again? I think Gwenllian mentioned a vague version of it to me, while you were working, but I would rather you tell me.”

Razlok narrowly avoided wincing. Gwenllian and the deity hadn’t aligned their lies, or at least not as well as they should have. Razlok wondered briefly what the woman had said.

“Mhm, right. Worked for the Guild more than twenty years ago. Thought to return to Djamícte and see if there was a place for me.”

It was a very vague story, but with the others, Razlok leaned on today’s tragedy to change the topic.

However, Itto didn’t hesitate to ask more. “And you arrived today?”

The Dark Deity chuckled uncomfortably. “Yeah. It wasnae the greatest timing.”

“How auspicious,” the man declared solemnly, returning to a quiet contemplation that Razlok couldn’t get a read on.

Did Itto mean inauspicious? It seemed to be an odd mistake to make.

Regardless, Razlok pushed through and changed the subject to Itto. “How long have ye been with the Guild?”

(The drinks arrived, and the food not long after that. Ciders and roasted chicken and a root medley. Nothing outlandish, but good, honest food.)

“Ten years – seven as Seat, three as a member.”

“Impressive. Longer than the other Seats, or– ?”

It would be a helpful thing for Razlok to know about the Seats, if they intended to play this game of pretend for another day or two. That way, they could avoid the individuals who might be able to deny their backstory.

It was easier with Silver.

Razlok’s sudden choice of name implied either a criminal past or that they were transgender.

And given that Silver was both of those things, Razlok doubted that the man would cast any shadows on Razlok’s credibility.

Gwenllian was rolling with the punches. She would likely outright avoid any commentary on Razlok besides vague conversations about how talented they were and how they should be allowed to stay at the Guild.

It was a temporary fix, but Gwenllian was known to be honorable and ethical. Not many people would doubt Razlok, as that would mean doubting the Seat of Water’s credibility.

Kian didn’t know much about Razlok, but given the aptitude the stranger showed, Kian could be expected to defend Razlok’s importance to the Guild for this week.

Kian was loyal to a fault, and Razlok had gone out of their way to help her.

Itto was a problem.

Razlok felt entirely too comfortable around Itto, and that might lead to mistakes being made. And, for all that Itto seemed to be a relaxed, lighthearted man, he was in charge of the Guild’s offensive procedures and combat-based skills.

He was a blacksmith, yes, but he was highly adept in the use of weapons, both mundane and magical. He was basically a man-at-arms with his own personal armory.

Thankfully, Itto was more than willing to explain the dynamics of the Seats themselves.

“No, Cas has been Seat of Wind for nearly thirty years, and xie doesn’t intend to retire anytime soon.”

Cas… Cas… Had Razlok met xir yet?

“Elias and I were friends long before I was part of the Guild, but he joined while I was busy elsewhere. He has held the Seat of Lightning for five years now.”

There was a long story to their relationship, one that tugged at Razlok’s heartstrings.

“Neous has held onto his power for a decade. We’re hoping he retires soon. He won’t.”

Carter, Carter Sylwan. Took on the name of Neous – short for ‘Igneous’ – when he gained the Seat of Fire.

Razlok had high hopes for him when he first joined, and now… well, the deity couldn’t wait to kick him out of the Guild.

“Kian is very new to the Seat, although I think she has been with the Guild for most of her life. Now that I think of it, it hasn’t even been two years since she gained the Seat of Earth.”

That explained the stern countenance when expected to perform her duties, but her relaxed, natural demeanor. Kian would grow into it. Pun intended.

“Gwenllian’s uncle was the previous Seat of Metal, and she joined through him, so she has been involved in the Guild for most of her life as well. She took her Seat at the same time Elias did, I believe, so five years.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Many of the Seats were young or new to their power. Razlok couldn’t guess their ages, since they didn’t see faces and wouldn’t know what to do with the information anyways.

But the authority of the Guild tended to transfer hands in waves, one person’s retirement inciting the others to look into their own replacements.

Auron reminded the Seats that keeping power wasn’t the goal, but instead they should be creating a community, and that if they became burdened by the authority, they should let their authority go.

Retirement was an honor, not failure.

This reminiscing brought Itto’s thoughts back to the alleged human’s backstory. He poked at Razlok’s arm as he dug for information. “You said you were part of the guild more than twenty years ago? Do you know Cas? Caspar.”

“Hard to say, et’s difficult to place people on descriptions, since I dinnae rely on them. Most folks remember people by their faces.”

They were blatantly avoiding giving a firm answer, but Razlok hoped they could lean on their real and honest disability as a means of avoiding further questions.

“You look like you could be her cohort. You wear the age well though. Mature.”

And they were back to flirting.

They huffed out a laugh and said, “Thanks.”

Razlok was more than happy to reciprocate but it was a matter of principle, if they should be flirting while also pretending to be human. It wouldn’t have mattered if Razlok didn’t care about Itto, yet…

The deity considered inquiring about Itto’s marriage, and how that affected the man’s flirting, but the more they thought about it, the more confusing it became.

They already knew the answer – informed polyamory – so they didn’t need to ask.

But if they didn’t ask, then would Itto think they were a bad person for not asking but still flirting? The social implications were heavy, and Razlok was in no position to sort out the Correct answer.

Fuck, they had to.

“How long have you been with Elias?”

Itto paused and let out a curious sound, almost like he was confused why Razlok was asking. Had the deity gone too far?

No, the man set his drink down to answer, his voice warming as he talked about his husband.

“We became friends in our teenage years, when we were both very different people. I kept in contact with him over long distance until I joined the Guild, when we were able to reconnect. We’ve both changed a lot since we first met, and I’m grateful I get to be in his life.”

It was a sweet answer, but also an intentionally vague one. Razlok knew more about their romance than they really should.

Elias hadn’t always been named Elias, and Itto’s absence was linked to his incarceration. The details were fuzzy, as neither man really prayed about the past, but Razlok knew they’d kept in contact throughout the whole ordeal, with Itto helping Elias find himself, and Elias helping Itto feel whole again.

They were a good pair.

“I know the feeling.”

Razlok hummed in the back of their throat, drawing parallels between the humans and Razlok’s own relationship with Auron.

Fuck, they missed the Light.

Beyond needing their other half, beyond being quite literally bound together by space and time, beyond anything fated, Auron was just a comforting presence and a fun, lovable being. Razlok couldn’t wait until they could relax, maybe listen to one of Auron’s impromptu lectures on a subject or his storytelling.

Their face must have visibly softened at the thought of Auron, because Itto picked up on the change in Razlok’s demeanor almost instantly.

“Oh, I know that look –” (Razlok was taken aback, and they furrowed their brows.) “– you have a partner?”

“Uh,” Razlok began quickly, stumbling over what to say that wasn’t completely and terribly obvious. “I– Yeah, I guess I do. It’s… more than a wee complicated at the moment. Been away for some time and unreachable.”

A long silence from Itto. Razlok wished they could see the man’s face, to get some hint of what was going on.

“Travelling?” Itto finally asked, lightly.

Razlok realized too late that their absence directly paralleled themselves with Itto – missing their partner, forced to be away for a long time, and excited to be back. There was no way to touch any of the details without bonding over the experience.

The deity’s expression turned wry, though they answered quietly. “Exiled, in a sense. It’s a mess to explain.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” said the man who could never return to his homeland of Hokuyamakai.

“I will, eventually.”

Razlok had to. They had to explain it to Auron, and hope that the Light would forgive them for their absence.

With an embarrassed exhale, Razlok changed the subject. “Sorry, shouldnae have been rude and chattered about my own life. I meant tae ask more about you and Elias.”

Itto’s silence this time became so long and stark still that Razlok thought they’d said something insulting. They were combing through their knowledge of Hokuyamakai culture in hopes of finding the answer when Itto replied, bluntly.

“You already know.”

The anxiety sitting in Razlok’s throat forced its way downward, their heart pounding wildly at Itto’s nonchalant tone.  

“What?”

Shite, this couldn’t have gone so poorly this quickly.

Had Razlok missed some detail that Itto was referencing? Were they supposed to already know this? Was it said earlier in the evening?

Their heart was pounding hard as they went over all the conversation from the dinner, trying to pretend Itto’s current silent contemplation wasn’t a sign of anger.

The Seat of Metal kept his voice low as he spoke, slowly and meticulously, as if he was laying out pieces of a puzzle for Razlok to examine.

“Auron told Kian and I years ago that if there was a chance for him to die, we were not to interfere. Somehow, he knew the Dark would return if he died. And they did, in a flash of lightning, too.”

Wait, this wasn’t… what Razlok was expecting. Auron knew? How did Auron know? How did Itto know? Why was he telling Razlok this?

“You show up conveniently, on the same day.”

Oh.

“Gwen heard you speak, Gwen knew. She was the one who convinced Kian, right? You have lightning and metal magic. I touched your hand; you’re unnaturally warm, hot even. You’re blind, like Ink-Maker.”

Razlok wasn’t upset about this new turn of events. They were mostly concerned that Itto was angry.

Being… exposed in this way wasn’t good, but it did speak to how clever and meticulous Itto actually was, how the relaxed demeanor was a choice, not indicative of how much Itto paid attention to the world.

“Against all orders to shut down the Guild from outsiders, you were allowed in. They understood in their hearts, without knowing, that you were supposed to be here.”

That was… sentimental. Maybe Itto wasn’t upset?

“As for your story. You were gone for an indeterminate time. You used to be part of the Guild, vague years ago. You have a partner who you love but can’t mention by name.”

It was impressive how much attention Itto had given to the details. Others might have assumed Razlok was just being cagey, trying to hide an illicit background.

“You ask good questions, but not the right questions. Not questions a stranger would need to know. A stranger would want to know about the politics of the Guild after a twenty-year absence, they would be worried about what Auron’s passing spells out for their prospects for getting a job, they would be more concerned with impressing the Seats.”

Those were all good points. Itto was correct; Razlok’s questions hadn’t been well-planned or carefully considered. They were impromptu, delivered on the go.

Itto’s low voice became tinged with softness before he ended his explanation –

“Your goals were to help Kian, get food, and rest. To exist, correct? You lied so that these things could happen without demands being made of you. You don’t question your place in the Guild like a stranger, like a human would. You don’t need to.”

With that, Itto was finished. Undoubtedly, the man was looking to Razlok for an explanation, for answers, or even just to see if there was a reaction to be witnessed at being so thoroughly unmasked.

Razlok took their time to answer, feeling much more calm and almost relieved that Itto knew, that they didn’t have to work so hard to weave a believable web of lies.

(Lies that apparently weren’t believable enough.)

They smiled, eyes closing behind their glasses like a contented cat.

“For a second, I thought ye were mad at me. Wouldnae be good – I’m terribly fond of ye.”

That sentiment drew a flustered sound from Itto, who tapped a finger on the table in frustration even though Razlok could tell from his words that he was repressing a smile. “That’s what you have to say?”

This time it was Razlok’s turn to play the logical one.

“Nae much else on the matter can be said in public, dear Itto, unless ye wantae go back to the banter and the flirting.”

“No!” Itto exclaimed, but his indignant response was mostly due to not getting a clear answer now. “I mean, yes, but that’s not the point.” More flustered sounds.

Razlok grinned widely, moving a hand over their mouth to hide their laughter.

“Point being that you are correct in all yer assumptions, that it’s been a very long day, and we should perhaps wait until later to talk shop, hrm?”

Itto couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t try to. It sounded like he was picking at his food again, but Razlok was unsure.

The deity expended a little energy so they could see Itto clearly, allowing Razlok to reach over and give the man an affectionate pat on the head.

“We have plenty of time now, Itto. Which is why you should tell me about your project, the commission from Treadlew. It’ll be a safe topic.”

Razlok seemed to have found they key to calming down the mildly frustrated Itto, and over the rest of the meal, the deity drew from his knowledge of the man to ask about his blacksmithing projects, his commissions, how certain tasks were going.

It was true, now that Razlok was back, they had all the time in the world to connect.