“Knock knock, wake ‘em up!” I announced, rapping my knuckles against a then-statuized horse.

Pyroshir came to life in a moment. “Oh, ‘sup, dawg,” he greeted tiredly, not bothering to stand up from his bed of hay.

I leaned against the wall of the stable. “Good to see you in one piece, Pyro. You don’t sound your normal energetic self. Was Lorius too much trouble?”

He tilted his head back and forth for a moment. “N– nah. Dude’s more like… a psycho. Slept alla… 2 hours a day, jus’ so he could spend more time studying my ass. Brotha, he was bouncin’ off the walls ‘til the moment I left. Not once did he slow down.”

“I’d say yikes, but that’s pretty par for the course in my experience. Any notable findings, events… highlights?”

“Yuh. That party? I was a main attraction, even got to light a mofucka’s hat on fire for being a jackass.”

“Nice.”

“Mmhmm,” he nodded. “But I think you’d like this next bit more. He found whateva makes me all… obedient. Made up a nice lil package for me to bring you. Iss up on the shelf.”

Pyroshir gestured (with his head, of course) to the little supply shelf in the corner, upon which was a pouch with a note. Tempting as it is to loot first and ask questions later, I read the note first.

Dear Dennis

Following extensive research, I have finally located the source of Pyroshir’s obedience. Against original theories, it is no spell, nor curse, but a fundamental alteration on a layer beyond normal magic. The deepest facets of his consciousness have been edited with this new set of beliefs that binds him to your service.

Very few are capable of this ancient, mystical art. I cannot in any way undo the effect directly, as it is beyond not only my means, but the abilities of my entire circle of associates. While this is an aside, I must urge you. Whoever saw fit to bestow this Strider upon you, do not cross them.

I shook my head. Yeah, yeah, whatever, been there, done that already. Get to the point, geezer.

Despite my inability to attack the alteration directly, I have learned that it is not necessary. Pyroshir was able to facilitate a brief excursion to his native environment. During this time, I was able to study the minds of several unaffected Core Striders and, with further affirmation from Pyroshir, have created a number of crystalline capsules that should restore him to a more original set of values and opinions.

Please keep in mind that the duration and effectiveness of these is unknown, however, the prototype rendered him a near-uncontrollable, rampaging fire elemental for approximately 11 minutes. Due to our agreement, I will not be pursuing damages related to my poor, poor library. However, these updated versions have had their energy rerouted from intensity, to duration.

At my best estimate, they will last a few decades, and will cumulatively take 20-30 to completely free him from the overwriting. This initial batch of 50 have been provided free of charge. The recipe is in my archives, so you may contact myself, or an apprentice/descendant if you wish to acquire more in the future.

Pleasure doing business with you.

Lorius.

I looked up from his note with a few questions on my mind. “You were able to show him your homeland?”

Pyroshir shook his mane fabulously. “My man, ‘nuff fire energy and I can open a portal smack dab in the great magma plains. Takes a lava bath to get that hot, but that ain’t no thang with a wizard ‘round.”

“Cool, but how did that help?” I asked, checking the note again for clarity.

“Iunno, summin ‘bout psychic magic, scannin’ a few striders, gettin’ their thoughts stuck in a crystal ball. Then, he asked me a buncha questions, whether I agree or disagree with some viewpoints, specifically, before the ‘edit’, he called it. Once he had m’answers, he made those,” Pyroshir explained, indicating the pouch of crystals.

I nodded along, checking the contents of the pouch and finding a bunch of plain quartz crystals with a slight air of magic to them. I picked one up, looking it over before I turned back around.

“Well, it seems like a success. One of these every week or so and you’ll eventually be… umm, yourself… again? It’s a little confusing, but a net positive, right?”

“Can’t say I know, brotha. Could make me feel free, could make me sad I work for someone. Hell, could make me wanna ice a fool. I already spoke my mind on it; I’m happy now, even if iss fake. These are for you to feel good about yoself. Ain’t neva really been ‘bout just me.”

It took a moment for me to stop admiring his candidness. “Welp, I guess you wouldn’t be a fire elemental if you weren’t hella bright.”

“‘N don’t forget the earth elemental half, cuz I am rock hard. Speakin’ of which, I got llllaid.”

I tilted my head. “Say whaaat?”

“Totes. Nice mare with lotsa fire resistance. Wizman said if that makes a baby, it’ll pay for all the hassle.”

My palm impacted my forehead. “Stud fees! Why didn’t I think of that? I literally watched you educate him on Strider reproduction. Damn it.”

“Don’t care, had sex,” he retorted with a snort. “Imagine if there is a foal, though. I burned half his shit down in 10 minutes, and even if kiddo gets half my free spirit, half my powers, he’d still have that on his hands for… years. Im-magine the carnage.”

The facepalm softened with a little evil laughter, a touch of theoretical schadenfreude. “A demon of his own making. Sounds karmic. But back to you. I have a magic crystal and a moral compass, so let's give you your first dose.”

“Your call. Hit me,” he commanded, opening his mouth wide.

I tossed the ‘pill’ in and he munched on it, making loud crackling as he ground the quartz between his teeth.

“Mmm, tastes like… cough syrup.”

I balked. “How the fuck do you know what cough syrup tastes like?”

“I just do.”

……

5 minutes of Pyroshir not burning my house down later, I was hanging my coat up when I noticed a distinct sack among the packages on the table by the door. My hands shot up and did that little wriggling of the fingers that might coincide with an ooh! Given the ongoing hush-hush, I didn’t actually say anything, but I opened it up and discovered that I indeed had my drone back. With an evil grin, I moved it to my shoulder bag.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

However, it wasn’t the only thing I was interested in. There was also a paper-wrapped parcel on the table from one Harnerforth Shminy. I popped it open and saw the fluffy collar of a coat. That one also went in the bag so I could inspect it for quality later.

“Oh, wow, you’re actually making something?” I remarked as I walked in on Matti hard at work in the kitchen. “I was just going to order in after a hike like that.”

She started mixing up a batter as she spoke. “I concur, actually. However, nobody in this gods’ forsaken town can make a good dessert, so I’m whipping up something easy.”

I glanced to the recipe book, which was open to the page ‘peach soufflé’. “Mmhmm, piece of cake, soufflé is,” I quipped, mentally listing at least 3 hole-in-the-wall places that might change her mind. “I’m feeling a little more pedestrian, so how about pizza?”

Matti paused her machine-gun-sounding peach chopping to answer me. “A slice of meat lover’s would do well. But there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Uhh, can it wait until food? I really wanted to order the pizza and take a nice hot bath.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why? Was the cleaning spell not thorough enough?”

I raised a finger. “With all due respect, there is a big difference between being ‘clean’, and being fresh out of a hot bath.”

“I… cannot refute that at all. Go ahead, but save some hot water for me!”

“Matti! What do you take me for, a simpleton? Demand heater!”

……

Soon enough, we had a pie on the table, and soufflés in the oven. That only left 1 thing for it to be a good dinner: Not having a ‘we need to talk’ hanging over the table like a cloud. I was intently staring at Matti, giving her the cue to bring it up and, well, she can take a hint.

“So…” she started with a deep breath. “I know you were trying to be quiet about it, but my ears are too good. What was that talk about a ring… and a gemstone of a few carats?”

My mouth slanted with a tinge of disappointment. “Aww, well… you spoiled the surprise early, but… fine. I am assembling a ring for you to… well, propose is the wrong word. I figured that you’re not the type I can just go pick up a ring for, so I was planning to assemble one. Y’know, custom-made. That’s, like, a year out at least, though.”

She nodded along, prissily cutting a bite of pizza free to stab with a fork. “I see. More forethought than impulse. I can respect that,” she mused. “Why would propose be the wrong word?”

I finished chewing on some pizza before answering (I could be getting diagnosed with stage 92 cancer and still be munching on a pizza before it gets cold). “I’m still married to my lawyer. While there may not be love, there is respect, admiration, support, and above all, major benefits for the both of us. As a consequence, I legally cannot have a second simultaneous marriage, and I’m not divorcing him.

“However, it’s not really what I’d call a real husband and wife type deal. We married because that’s the only form of legal partnership that really breaks the system in our favor. If we could have called it something different, entangled ourselves a little less for the same benefits, we would have. But there wasn’t; so we didn’t.

“Factually speaking, I don’t even know if I’ll want to put a ring on your finger yet; we simply haven’t been dating long enough to make that decision. But, if I do—which I may—I’d best have a ring worthy of the occasion nice and squared away beforehand. Not the sort of thing I can impulse buy, you know? Plus, if we don't get that far, I still have a kickass ring with some probably good enchantments.”

Matti took a moment to take in my rambling, and I watched a few different feelings play across her face. “Hmm. You did a remarkably good job of simplifying all of that. Interesting…” she trailed off.

“You know, it’s strange, what we have. I studied the art of love in books, with a sprinkling of classroom learning as well. It always talked about the deep, emotional meanings and expressions, declarations of love, points of commitment. One particular warning was of those who profess their love, but refuse to commit. Yet here you are, outright saying to my face that you have no plans to commit to anything, solely because it is too soon to make such a decision. What even should I make of that?”

I shrugged. “Call it what it is: Insufficient data. We’re both going to live the better part of 3 centuries, so why rush into anything at this point?”

She smiled, then rose to check on the soufflés. “Come to think of it, most of the guides to romance were written by short-lived folk. I suppose we do have the luxury of time.”

A divine, peach-smelling dessert was deposited in front of me. I looked between it, and the pizza. One of them was getting cold, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the home-cooked treat Matti made. I got a bite onto my spoon and let it cool.

“Well, call it another win for sitting down and talking it out like adults. We’re on a roll!”

Matti held up her own steaming spoonful. “Yes we are,” she countered, giving cheers with her utensil before downing it.

I mirrored it and appreciated the excellent flavor she’d achieved. I was digging in further when she kept talking.

“I overheard your conversation with Pyroshir. It’s so funny how much it bothers you,” she chuckled. “Why look a gift horse in the mouth? I’d take him as-is.”

I choked on my soufflé.

……

Another little thing teetering between the two paths: ‘It’s just how she is’, or ‘maybe we should address that’. In the end, I called the day’s progress ‘good’ and left it. Besides, why get into heavier subject matter and spoil a gift-giving occasion? Matti was clearing the dishes when I snuck the package onto the table, plus the little bow I’d put on it.

“Oh? What’s this?” she inquired upon returning.

“Not a ring, if you’re curious,” I quipped. “It’s a little something I commissioned. Go on, open it!”

Not one to dawdle, she sprung a claw and clove the ribbon clean off, then tore into the paper. Her eyes went starry as she lifted the gothic fur coat from its packaging. A fuzzy collar, stylish, understated buttons, a close fit on the waist (and everywhere else), a pronounced split to let the legs move freely, grays and blacks dancing geometrically in subtle patterns across the hem. And to top it all off, sleek, black fur, darker than the night and softer than a kitten.

“Oh my goooods!” she squealed. “Sturmfleder? Is this sturmfleder? Where did you find the pelts?”

“Got ‘em at work,” I bragged with a grin. “Harvested it myself. Try it on!”

Matti happily threw the coat over her black, turtle-necked house sweater (of +10 goth points). Oh man, was I feeling good about taking those measurements, cuz that thing fit her like a glove. She went from deliberately frumpy to being one fancy hat away from the mysterious benefactor who walks into a room, at which point the music stops and the plot advances.

“It feels amazing, how do I look?”

I looked her up and down again. “You look great,” I answered with an appreciative nod.

She bent forward and placed a hand on the table. “Ohh, I could kiss you right now, but…” her expression fell. “I don’t think you’d like that.”

For a moment, I mulled it over. “Eh, kissing seems appropriate.”

She was a bit shocked as I stood up and eliminated the distance between us. I wrapped my arms around her, pulled her close, brushed noses with her, then boom, planted one right on her lips. Gave it a good 5 seconds of French, too. We pulled back mutually and she gasped.

“You have… no right being that good… for someone who claims to not like anything sex-related,” she protested with a raised finger.

“On the contrary,” I rebutted. “I took sex classes, in hell, with succubi, specifically to learn how to be good at sex, so th–”

Matti’s face scrunched as she parsed what I said. “WHAT? Why? You said you don’t like it!”

I let her free of the embrace. “I don’t, but not liking something isn’t an excuse not to be good at it. I wanted another tool in my arsenal to escape bad situations. Sleeping my way to the top, or out of a pickle is certainly better than dying, y’know?” I blushed slightly. “And… uhh, taking those classes in the Hells was actually the way to build the most skill while having the least sex, numerically speaking.”

She cradled her shaking head. “Okay, you’ve gone full-circle into sounding like yourself again.”

“Yeah, yeah, big deal. Focus on the cool coat!” I ordered, playfully smacking her shoulder.

Her particularly cute smile returned. “You’re right. It is marvelous. I… I will have to come up with something equally thoughtful,” she pondered aloud.

Then, she zoomed off down the hall. I quirked an eyebrow and remembered that I didn’t need to raise my voice for what I said next.

“Heyyy, you forgot the part where you say ‘thanks’.”

Matti then zipped back into the kitchen at full vampire speed, and—in a word I thought I would avoid for my entire life—glomped me. She squeezed me tight and uttered softly in my ear from her tippy-toes with nary a pause to breathe.

“Thank you very much for this gift of exceptional quality and careful selection. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I plan to spend the next hour plotting my decadent repayment for such a splendid thing.”

Aaand she zipped out again. I didn’t even get to say anything! Nevertheless, I smiled. Of all the words to describe Matti, half-assed was certainly not among them.