Lysa Veringal was slumped in a chair behind the counter of the Specialty shop she had worked at for the last few years, waiting for the final few minutes of her shift to end. The shop was filled with rows upon rows of merchandise; it had been that way for as long as she could remember. Hell, most products filling those shelves were the same; each was made by and for a specific species, so they could enjoy some pleasure of vice their unique anatomy allowed.

However, some of the chemicals contained within them could be consumed by many different species. But those cases were few and far between.

Her own species, Aviex, was one of the species in the Galactic Union that was capable of that and was considered quite hardy by many. Though that regrettably was not her species' claim to fame—or, more accurately put, infamy.

The Aviex species had evolved on an incredibly barren planet called Aveion, many hundreds of lightyears from here. It had sparse flora, fauna, and sunlight. This led to her species having a few traits that others found unsettling.

Her skin was pale as a ghost, and she had four blood-red eyes that gave her incredibly keen sight, along with her species having what was by Galactic Union standards an extremely dense muscle mass and high endurance. Few amidst the galaxy could match an Aveix in pound-for-pound strength. So far, the only ones she was aware of were Humans.

Yet the feature that unsettled other aliens the most was her teeth. Her mouth was filled with incredibly sharp needle-shaped teeth. Though not incredibly large, they were strong and just as white as her skin. They were a physical representation of the cultural tendencies her species performed that led to them being mockingly called Vein Slicers.

The Aviex species had developed to drink blood as one of their primary forms of sustenance; there was so little to go around. What else would they have done? Wasted it. This need led to them treating blood as something somewhat sacred, even developing an analogy to Human kissing, mordain. A pair of either Ruh’ah, or Gra’hu would bite from the other and drink a small amount of blood as a symbolic gesture of trust and care, symbolizing giving a bit of themselves to the other.

Most species found the idea of them drinking each other's blood or the blood of other species as abhorrent and detestable. This brought about rumors that the Aveix will slice them open and drink from their veins, hence the unfortunate moniker. They were little more than hypocrites in the eyes of most Aviex. They were perfectly willing to call them monsters, vampires, or whatever analogy their species had to blood-consuming ghouls, all while stuffing their mouths with the meat of some lesser non-sentient.

Lysa yawned and shifted in the chair, pushing the stiffness out of her athletic figure. She stretched high to the sky, her black shirt pulling up ever so slightly, letting the cool breeze of a fan roll over her lean abs. Thankfully, no one was around to hear her groaning as she did.

It had been well over an hour since the last customer had graced her with something to do. Too bad, ringing up a shaking, somewhat fearful customer only took moments, immediately followed by them rushing out the door. She usually would message her Ruh'ah, Henry Martinez, during extended downtime at work. But she had recently changed to working a day shift like him, so her dear Human was busy working at the trauma center and could not be her source of entertainment while she waited.

Instead, Lysa was stuck here, pecking away at a little story she had decided to jot down on her datapad. She was in no way an incredibly talented writer like her mother and had just started this one. It was at least something to do, and it wasn’t like anyone would ever read it.

Who would want to read what might as well be the ramblings of someone trying to recreate the magic of old Human fantasies? She barely knew the Human Fantasy Genre herself, but Martinez enjoyed them. So, through exposure, the fantastical dragons, epic quests, and dirty diminutive goblins grew on her. At least it was something to occupy her mind.

At least no one else arrived before the night shift clocked in and relieved her from working the register. She had managed to make at least several paragraphs that read somewhat cleanly. If only Galactic Standard was not such a complex language. With the amount of context and descriptors needed to have sentences make even a bit of sense, she had taken a few—creative liberties when describing fantastical elements.

Sythen was a young reptilian alien working the night shift. Lysa had never bothered to learn his species. He was clearly afraid of her anyway, always keeping at least a few meters between them if he could.

After handing off the shop and signing out for the day, Lysa grabbed the jacket she borrowed from Martinez a few weeks ago and tossed it on. She did have her own jacket but preferred his because it smelled like he did—luscious and fresh pine. That and the dark, near-black leather complemented her ensemble of blacks, dark blues, and whites.

She stepped out into the streets of Draun and shielded her eyes from the bright twin suns still high in the blue Renoural sky. Getting off work when it was this bright felt odd after having lived nearly constantly in the evening and night for the last few local years. At least with this, she could spend more time with Martinez or train more in martial arts at Teachers dojo. Though she only planned on doing one of those tonight. Seeing her Ruh'ah.

Lysa started on her way through the bustling city streets. Though for her, they were seldom, if ever, too crowded. The moment any alien spotted her and realized what species she was, they would avert their course and make way for her.

Years ago, that treatment bothered her, but not anymore. At the time, she was young, angry and spiteful. Not at anyone in particular, but at the entire universe for the hand it had dealt her. Through Teacher's training and Martinez’s comfort, all of that was behind her. Who cares if they don’t want to be around her? They aren’t worth her time or effort if that's how they feel. She had plenty of friends at the dojo, a man who wanted her. What else could she want?

She diverted from her usual direct route of weaving in and out of shops and highrises; instead, she wished to meander through the several-kilometer-wide park in the city's center. The many colors, building designs, and cultures that coexist in Draun were wondrous. It was something she adored that she was a part of, even if it was a diminutive one. The city was considered an example of what the Galactic Union aims for its society to be like, though few ever reached this level of harmony. She wished to visit the city's park for some fresh air.

Traversing the rolling meadows of green grass and the lush autumn colors of the trees was far more enjoyable than the stuffy business district she worked within. Though not the same as where she had grown up, seeing this much flora was a comforting reminder about where she grew up on the far side of the planet. A little reminder of the town called Cellna, while she could keep a comfortable difference from there.

Lysa glanced across the small lake in the park's center, the waves rolling and glistening in the sunlight. Other aliens were lounging about, watching the trees sway in the breeze. She breathed the crisp autumn air, letting the sharp scent infect her lungs, filling her with subtle warmth. Without a doubt, autumn was the best time to live in this city. The summers were too hot and humid. The winters were nonstop heavy snow, while the spring was an unrelenting assault from insects and rain.

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She slowed her pace to linger in the park a little longer and pulled out her datapad, sending a quick message to Martinez.

Lysa: Ruh’ah will you arrive at your abode soon? I will be there in a little over ten minutes.

Martinez took a few minutes to reply, but that happened occasionally when he was at work. He usually was caught up with reports or was wrist-deep helping his coworkers with another patient. So, the delay did not bother her.

Martinez: I will be a little late, sorry. Give me IDK thirty minutes?

Lysa: Very well, I shall await you outside.

Martinez: Alright. :)

Little else happened until she arrived at Martinez's apartment complex. She had been told that the reddish brick building looked similar to what you could find on his home planet of Earth. Not that she had been there—yet. But would not mind seeing where her dear Ruh'ah had grown up.

His apartment was on the far side of the city from her home and had a very different vibe than the suburbs she lived in. It was not bad; it was just packed full of aliens on each floor. Their potpourri of sharp scents was jarring the first time she arrived. Now, she was used to it.

She happily waved at a few of his neighbors while ascending the stairs, a gesture they returned. They had gotten used to seeing her over the last few months and neither seemed bothered by her, much to her preference. If only all aliens could be like them or Martinez, so open-minded and accepting, treating her just like everybody else.

She settled onto the windowsill just outside his door at the end of the hallway on the third floor. She shifted her muscular legs as she settled in, trying to find a position where she was not in some amount of pain. Her butt and thighs had been sore over the last week. The result of Teacher’s training and her nightly romps with Martinez. Not that either was wrong; she just had to live with it.

While Lysa waited, she remembered she needed to call her Mother and inform her that she and Martinez were willing to come over and visit them soon, having agreed on a date. She had meant to tell her mother several weeks ago, when she and Martinez had made up after their spat about Martinez not reaching out and being open with her. But life had gotten busy, and doing so slipped her mind.

She quickly dialed her mother, Nelya. She truly adored having the opportunity to speak to her; if only she was not so busy, otherwise they would talk more often. Unlike Lysa and her father, they had gotten along swimmingly throughout her life, a model mother and daughter.

Lysa and her father had difficulty getting along for as long as she could remember. His treatment and views ultimately drove Lysa away from Cellna almost six local years ago.

After a few quick rings sounded out from her datapad, her mother's smooth, ethereal voice came through. Lysa had to admit her mother’s voice was something she found soothing throughout her life. After she comforted Lysa countless times, telling her that her father did not mean it or was only trying to protect her, hearing her smooth, somewhat resonant tones was like a warm hug.

“Hello, my little huntress. How are you doing today?” Nelya said in Galactic Standard, something that surprised Lysa because her mother usually spoke Aviex to her.

Little huntress, a pet name her mother almost always called her. Although it was strange hearing Mother say it in Galactic Standard. The translation was not clean in any way, but that was not her mother’s fault. It was because the term was from the Aviex language, where it was used to refer to one's daughter, while hunter would be used for boys.

The Aveix language was strange like that. It placed a lot of emphasis on titles that quickly described one's relationship to others. From Ruh'ah for an intimate partner, Gra'hu for someone you had children with, and countless others to explain family members and those who were not. Even with those technicalities, the Aviex language was far easier to speak than Galactic Standard. If it was not, Lysa might not talk in such a formal manner and with her atrocious accent.

Lysa could already picture her mother's soft heartwarming features. Her mother had four pink eyes, a full figure ready for a hug, and hair similar to Lysa's—raven black hair that she tended to tie back.

It had been a long time since she had seen them; she truly did miss her mother.

“I am well, mother,” Lysa replied, casting her gaze out the window and watching the street below for Martinez’s arrival.

They shared some small talk, going over the most recent events in their life. Nelya spoke of her current book and bemoaned her readers for incessantly writing to her about their desires to be loved by her main character. Lysa simply updated her on the new shift at work and the training endeavors. They continued this way for a while, laughing and sharing each other's recent strifes and triumphs—until Mother brought up the reason Lysa called her in the first place.

“So tell me, how was your conversation with your Ruh'ah? I was expecting to hear from you a few weeks ago,” Nelya questioned with a sly tone.

“It did go quite well. Though it was rather uncomfortable to force Martinez through my berating,” Lysa sighed, thinking about the horrible pained scowl on his face when she laid his sins to bare.

“Hmm, well, as I said, ensuring he knows your boundaries and limitations is important and will be good for you two in the long run. If I had not done the same in the past, Kyroll and I would have separated long ago,” Nelya said.

Kyroll, Lysa’s father. She had heard the story of when he abandoned her and her mother for several weeks just after she was born, then came back, and her mother gave him a cold shoulder for months.

A part of Lysa wished he would have stayed gone; he had caused her enough pain growing up. Chasing off her few friends, yelling at her for dreaming of traveling the galaxy, and threatening the only man she had ever been attracted to, at least until she moved. Kyroll was abhorrent. A true example of how to be the worst father someone could be.

At this point, Lysa would tell others she hated him, but that wasn’t right. She felt utter indifference. If he was burning alive and she had the only water in dozens of kilometers, she would sooner drink it than save that horrible man.

“Very well then,” Lysa said, trying to dismiss the mention of her father. “I wish to inform you that Henry and I arranged some time off to visit you. He has a break from college in a month, so that is when we plan on arriving.”

“That’s wonderful. I will have your old room ready for you two.” Nelya said chipperly. “I cannot wait to meet your Ruh'ah.”

“I cannot wait for you to meet him as well; I'm certain you will adore him,” Lysa beamed.

She was proud that Martinez was her Ruh'ah. The Human was strong, intelligent, and protective enough of her to melt her heart. Mainly because their first date involved them getting attacked by a pair of particularly Zeletous aliens, and he gladly came to her aid. Thinking about it even now made her heart flutter.

“Oh, make sure you do tell him about your father. I will make sure your father stays well-behaved, but just make sure he is aware of your… relationship,” Nelya insisted.

“I had no intention of not informing him of that horrible man. If I am lucky, that monster will choose to stay at work for the duration of our stay,” Lysa grumbled.

“Now, my little huntress. Your father loves you. He is just—difficult. Not unlike what you have told me about Martinez,” Nelya said.

Martinez was nothing like Kyrol, as far as Lysa saw it. The only linking factors were they both were in the military and had combat experience. Other than that, they could be nothing alike; Martinez was giving and considerate and wanted to see her happy—unlike that bastard.

Just before Lysa expressed this to her mother, she spotted Martinez amidst the crowd. He glanced up, spotted her waiting on the windowsill, and waved with a brimming smile. Lysa waved and decided to put that subject to rest for now. He undoubtedly had a strenuous work day; her being in a foul mood from complaining about her father would not help.

“If that is what you wish to believe, mother. I shall not argue about it. However, Ruh'ah has returned, and we are going to make dinner. I shall speak to you later,” Lysa said.

Nelya sighed loudly. For years, she had attempted to convince Lysa of what her father thought about her, but to no effect. As far as Lysa considered it, if Kyroll loved her and wanted forgiveness, he could reach out and attempt to explain, not use her mother as a broker.

“I hope you have a nice night, my little huntress. I love you,” Nelya replied.

“I love you too, Mother,” Lysa replied before she ended the call.