Hearts Filled With Love & Regret

25th Day of Ojo Didi in the Fourth Month of Snow’s Fall

4380 A.G.G. (253 Years Ago)

The Township of Euuil Village, North of the Great Desert

The Continent of Alphava

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Samahdemn

Primping my dreadlocks as I approached the ladies’ table, I noticed that Ñä’s companions were not actually sunset elves like her, as I’d initially thought. But lunar elves. While still sharing the melanated complexion of their sunset cousins, lunar elves’ skin tone on the whole tended to be slightly lighter, with the vaguest undertones of blue in their pigment. The only real tell between them and Ñä’s ilk.

The elf with the noda that was clad in what Jeruian thought was gray, had her steely hair done in plats; twisted into a kinky “updo”. Meanwhile, Yellow’s steely locs were wrapped inwards on each other, forming a massive donut shaped bun behind her head.

I summoned as much confidence and swagger to my walk as I could possibly muster the closer I came to their table. And as I did, the smile faded from Gray’s face as she noticed my approach. An approach which she brought to the attention of Ñä’, who turned to face me. And I watched as shock washed across her features.

I imagine she was as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

And as she looked at me, I was reminded that the full aspect of her face up close was even more lovely than her profile was from a distance. A fact I’d nearly forgotten.

The smooth skin. The alluring jet black colour of her oversized elven irises. The look of the raised and textured tattoos comprised of vines and branches, which are prevalent throughout the cultures of most of the darker skinned eluvian, protruding beautifully from her steel gray hair line above the left ear, which gently caressed her cheek. It all took my breath away just as it had when I first laid eyes on her years ago.

The full site of Ñä’s visage caught me mid step and I nearly lost my footing, tripping a mere dozen or so feet from their table. Fortunately, I caught myself before the floor found me.

The ensuing laughter from the two lunar elven women immediately drained all bravado from my approach and I glanced back embarrassingly to see a wide smile on Jeruian’s face as he proceeded to taunt me by saluting me with my own tea and taking a sip.

Ass hole. I thought.

“Ha! Is that how you flipped Jannett, Sam? Tripping your way into her feelings? Keep it up. You’ll be paying for our table before you know it.” he taunted in my ear via my clandestine ear piece.

I responded with a universal hand signal, illustrating to him what he could do with himself.

Continuing forward, I regained my resolve as I noticed that Ñä’s noda hadn’t been hidden from my view after all. The thick length of intertwined hair I’d been looking for was the thick purple ornament that I had mistaken for some sort of rope headband. Although I had no immediate idea as to what the imperial purple colour symbolized in their society, I knew at least that it didn’t mean that she was bonded.

All’s not lost. I told myself.

Maybe it symbolized royalty. Purple was the color of royalty in Hesijua after all. And she was of the lower nobility. Though I couldn’t recall her ever covering her noda in purple before.

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On the Subject of Elvan Culture

All eluvian, regardless of their race, keep a single loc of hair that they rarely touch or fashion in any alternative way. This is known amongst them as their noda. It’s a term that, for all intents and purposes, is lost in translation. But in the common tongue, it can mean marriage, bond or coupling. It can also mean pledge, or promise. As a result, the lone loc is often referred to among outsiders as a commitment braid. The colour of the rope wrapped around it lets others know the wearer’s personal or social status. Red rope if someone is married. Black if they’re a widow or widower. A gray adornment announces someone who’s parted, or in human terms, divorced. And white signifies that an elf is single.

I wished in those days that I’d taken the time to learn more about them when I had the chance to in the years prior when I walked among them with Ñä’. Sunset elvish culture is rich and layered after all. As is befitting the first of the first races…

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“Good day ladies.” I said as I approached.

I turned my eyes to Ñä’Kimuli. And as I gazed into her dark orbs in earnest, I felt every part of me go lax inside and melt. “Hello Ñä’.” I said softly.

And it didn’t take me long to realize that I’d already committed a social blunder. The lunar elves’ ears plastered themselves back to their heads as they stared daggers into me at the mention of Ñä’Kimuli’s kinship name. It looked as if she herself could’ve cared less. But then again, whether she’d even heard it in the midst of her shocked stupor was anyone’s guess. So I took a step back to correct myself, and bowed my head as was befitting her station.

“I apologize. I meant to say, greetings…Iÿälojä.”

“Hmm. Thank…thank you. For respecting me.” she said shakily; seemingly recovering from my presence catching her off guard.

“You know this man My Lady?” The plat-wearing elf’s voice was lovely, if not a bit wispy.

“I used to.”

“You still do.” I responded.

“Do I?” she asked sharply. “You can raise your head.”

I did so. “Thank you Iÿälojä.”

She shook her head lightly. “No need for that. We’re not as close as we once were, but we didn’t necessarily part on bad terms. Besides, you, Waimund and Jeruian are still considered heroes among my people for the services you provided us. You needn’t tie yourself to my formal title. Lady Iēzäñ will do.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Lady Iēzäñ.” I fought back the softness I felt for her. I had to. It was a fruitless endeavor, yet I attempted it regardless. And it was a fight I’d realized that I’d almost immediately lost when the very next thing out of my mouth was- “You haven’t aged a day Ñä’.”

She smiled lightly, but struggled not to. “Neither have you Sam.”

“To be expected I suppose. Of both of us.”

“Sisters, this is…an old acquaintance of mine. Samahdemn Astaroth.”

Dreadlocks nodded in my direction in silent greeting. But Plats was distracted.

I couldn’t help but notice that, with an angled head, she was staring at me with extreme interest. “Forgive me.” Plats offered up when she realized she’d been caught staring. “But those are some interesting meditation beads you have wrapped around your arm. I thought only monks wore those. And you don’t strike me as the religious type.”

“I’m not.” I answered as I adjusted the ornament about my arm.

“Hmm. Interesting.” she commented as her attention left me. It was apparently enough for her to think that I was just making a thoughtless fashion statement.

“And the eye?” Dreadlocks asked.

“Caught that? In the dark, did you?”

“There’s little that gets past the elven eye Sam.” Ñä’Kimuli said with a shrug. “You of all people should know that.” I was unsure if I should answer Dreadlock’s question. But Ñä’, sensing my hesitation, gave me an out should I choose to take it. “It’s your choice. You don’t need to feel compelled to answer her.”

Why not? I thought to myself.

I removed the concealing lens and exposed my deformity for her.

“By the Goddess! You’re Swalii aren’t you?” Plats gasped.

“Why do I feel like I should say ‘I’m guilty’?”

“You needn’t. It’s just that…I simply don’t understand. Your people’s obsession with technology, I mean. I’ve read a bit about your kind before. But I didn’t think you normally made so many, changes, to yourselves.”

“We normally don’t. I guess you could say I’m a special case.”

“Amazing. There’s nothing you won’t stick inside of yourselves is there?” she stated with absolute awe, mixed with a hint of what seemed to be distain. “It’s a miracle that you haven’t been tied to a stake by the Oratory.”

I tried not to take the attack personally, and attempted to deflect with humor. “Don’t deny it until you try it.”

“I think I’ll pass, human.”

“That was a joke.”

Silence and stern stares were all that followed.

Bad timing, I guess. “Well…anyway, Hesijuan travel papers are nice to have. Swalii are allowed to travel with a certain amount of technology within very strict guidelines. Afterall, it’s a literal part of us. And, you could hardly blame us for simply existing as we are.”

I worked the contact back into my eye; rubbing it into its resting position as I looked about to find a place to sit. “Ñä’,” I started to ask as I absentmindedly continued to use her familial name. “Could I-”

“Sam,” she interrupted, “seriously, you shouldn’t call me Ñä’ anymore. We gave that kind of familiarity up when we…made our decision. Please try to stick with Lady. If for no other reason than because it’s the respectful thing to do. And it makes things easier for me. I’ll do the same for you.”

“Of course.” I thought twice about continuing with my question, but I decided to press on. Pointing at an empty pillow by the table, I asked- “Is it ok if I have a seat for a moment, Lady Iēzäñ?”

She looked at me, back to her friends, then back to me; all of her composure and grace regained, and said assertively- “No Samahdemn. I’m not sure it would be…proper for you to ‘have a seat’. Maybe if things were different, well…” She fidgeted for a moment as she seemed to fight with herself over what to do. “I’m not really able to deal with this. With you. Not now. Not today. I’m sorry.”

I must admit, the straightforwardness of the denial felt tantamount to a door slamming shut in my face. I didn’t feel like she wanted me gone, but I’d definitely overstepped my bounds. I think I’d inadvertently ambushed her; not thinking about her social status. And I should have known better.

I allowed my emotions to drive my actions. J had tried to warm me.

As a result, I quickly withdrew my request. But I still couldn’t bring myself to leave. “I’m sorry again. I meant no disrespect. I saw you and your fellow elves when you made your entrance and I was just so…well…I guess I was hoping to share a drink with you and…?”

The she-elf with the plats looked questionably to her matron after my eyes had met hers with the implied inquiry. Ñä’Kimuli quietly nodded her approval and she once again looked at me.

“Fä’Äfkä.” she replied flatly to my question.

“Ah. Fä’Äfkä. Lovely. And?” I looked to the dreadlocked lunar elf who’d turned her face away from my gaze.

“She’s not overly fond of people she doesn’t know.” Fä’Äfkä said. “And you make her nervous. But if you must know, her name is Si’Säni.”

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

“And yet, here you are.”

I glanced down at the table, feeling laden with embarrassment. Deciding that if I could hazard a guess as to what they were drinking, that hopefully I could use that information to salvage the situation which was quickly spiraling out of control. And as Ñä’Kimuli’s fingers toyed playfully with the remains of her perspiring beverage as I studied it, I briefly noticed a bit of the afore mentioned raised vine tattoos on the top of her left hand, which were identical to the ones that were atop her friends’ hands as well.

The vines that were depicted there reached down to touch the ladies’ nails, and ran upwards to disappear under their sleeves.

Sexy. Everything about Ñä’ was always sexy.

I suddenly found myself wondering, as I oft times did, why things couldn’t have been different between us before we parted. But, then again, I knew why. We both did…somewhat, and it was mutual. Not that I’d ever stopped torturing myself over it.

“I may not be able to sit with you, but maybe I can get you three more faludas anyway?” I forced myself to ask once I’d reasonably guessed what they were having and I was able to tear myself away from thoughts of Ñä’s sensuality.

“No. Thank you.” Ñä’Kimuli replied as she gently shook her head; her ears mirroring mild annoyance in their slight movements. Not unlike a cat’s. “We have been offered the same no less than three times already and I’ll tell you the same thing that I keep telling the attendant delivering those requests. ‘We can buy our own drinks.’”

“Well then…what hmm…may I ask what brings you here?” So far from home? We’re quite a ways away from the Tuska Mountains. I won’t pretend that I wasn’t pleasantly surprised to see you again when you walked in.”

“I suppose you could say we’re, scouting for favourable vistas.”

“Really? Scouting? For what?”

“A bonding.”

It felt as if my heart skipped a beat. J’s supposition, and my fear, possibly confirmed. “You didn’t need to come all this way did you? So far south?” I probed; hoping for more information on whose bonding it was. “I’d imagine that there are plenty of beautiful views in more subterranean locales. More traditional too. I can think of at least two beautiful underground forests off of the top of my head on your side of the divide that would serve your couple well and negate the need for all of the travel.”

“Who said anything about the need for it to be traditional? I never said that it was a sunset bonding.”

Thank the Goddess.

“And you?” she asked. “You’re the last person I’d expected to ever run into again. Especially on the complete opposite end of the continent. And so far removed from hustle and bussle. On another hunt I assume?”

“You assume correctly. Although, for a…different quarry than usual.”

“Given that you’re in a lounge smoking and not out in the bush freezing, that much is obvious.”

I glanced back to where Jeruian was sitting for emotional support, but he was bereft of it. Too busy looking back and forth between Further’s table and me with equal parts anxiousness and impatience. But there was also the undeniable look of curiosity smattered across his face.

“You must be in a hurry.” the she-elf noble stated.

“Yes, unfortunately. Lady Iēzäñ, if I may be frank for a moment?” I asked, cutting through any further small talk.

“You may.”

I remember looking suspiciously at the two lunar elves at the table for a moment before continuing. “I need to broach a personal matter with you. A vow I’ll have to break. Am I able to speak freely in front of them? Are they trustworthy?”

Ñä’Kimuli paused. I could see in her eyes that she wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question. And she began to study her companions long and hard. It was obvious that she was curious to hear what I had to say, but was conflicted about actually having it said. She looked down into her drink as if she would find the answers to the conundrum there, but none existed.

“And this is something that you have to do? Now?”

“If not now, when Lady Iēzäñ? I’ll never have another chance to say what I have to say. Once we leave this place, I’ve no idea when, or if, I’ll ever see you again.”

“I know. That’s why I’d rather you not.”

“Please Iÿälojä. If I don’t do this, I won’t be able to live with the memory of not saying it when I had the chance. It would be one more mistake I’d be forced to relive until the end of my life.”

“¡Ñsuz!” She huffed in frustration.

I didn’t speak a great deal of sunset at the time, but I knew an elvish swear when I heard one.

Her eyes darted all about as she pondered further. “I swear, you’ll be the death of me Samahdemn. This is a terrible idea.”

“Par the course for us as I recall, My Lady.”

“I swear to you my silence, always, My Lady.” Fä’Äfkä swore, unbidden. “Under penalty of pain and on my life. May my soul be damned should my vow be broken.”

Her commitment, as well as her apparent friendship with Ñä’, seemed resolute. She always did have that effect on people; an infectious type of kindness that drew others in unexpectedly and sometimes caused her to allow herself to get too close to her denizens.

Ñä’Kimuli’s always was too kind a soul for this world. And Goddess only knows why she wasted her time on me.

And while Si’Säni appeared to me to be slightly more hesitant than her compatriot, she ultimately decided to follow her friend with confidence.

“My silence, always, My Lady. Under penalty of pain and on my life. May my soul be damned should my vow be broken.” she parroted.

A smile washed across Ñä’Kimuli’s face and her body relaxed. “I accept your vows. And in turn, I release you of your vow to me, Samahdemn. Speak your mind.”

“Very well My Lady. I know I can’t change the past. I can’t go back and make different decisions. Neither of us can. But, we can make good decisions now.”

“Meaning?”

I took a breath. “I was thinking that, well, I was hoping, maybe we could start over. Try again. This needn’t be the last time we see each other. We don’t have to part ways.”

“To what end?”

I looked down at the floor. I had no idea what I was doing. “Honestly? I don’t really know. But us crossing paths today has to mean something, right?”

I looked to the lunar elves only to see them staring blankly at the two of us, apparently trapped somewhere between confusion and befuddlement. I didn’t know then if elves gossiped, but if they did, then these two couldn’t have asked for any juicer.

“It was a long time ago.” Lady Iēzäñ said to her two dumbfounded companions before their curiosity forced them to ask her anything. “We’ll talk about it later. As for you,” she stated as she refocused on me, “why should us meeting again matter to me?”

“I won’t forgive myself if I let you pass and I never see you again. I wouldn’t be able to live with the thought that I didn’t try to make this right.”

“So you’ve so fervently proclaimed.” She seemed to contemplate for a moment before telling me to- “Speak your truth then. And I shall speak mine.”

I breathed deeply yet again. My heart was beating out of control and it was everything I could do to keep it from jumping out of my chest. “Look, maybe it’s not my place to say this. And maybe it never was as a commoner.

“I never said so, but what I felt for you… Well I’ve always regretted not telling you what you did to me. Not that it was much of a secret given what transpired between us. But I should have said it.”

Lady Iēzäñ was taken aback. She held up her hands, unable to allow me to finish my thought myself. “What? Love? Are you trying to say that you were in love with me?”

I nodded awkwardly. “Yeah Ñä’. I was in love with you. And I don’t think I ever really fell out of it.”

Everyone at the table looked about the cubby at each other, mouths agape, as if trying to verify with one another that this embarrassing confession was actually happening before refocusing on me.

“There’s still a lot of love for you in me.” I continued. “And even though seeing you again is a situation I’ve played over and over in my imagination since we parted ways, it’s never been more than a fantasy. And now that you’re actually here, now that it’s actually real against all odds, I don’t know what I should do with that love or what I should say. But I’d like to think that it’s the same for you too.”

To say that I was a sad sight likely would’ve been putting it mildly. All I could do was stand here now before her…offering myself to her openly. My feelings laid bare. Exposed. Ready to be destroyed and ready to accept it free of anger. But then, surprisingly, she looked me over once more and her face softened. “I appreciate your honesty Samahdemn. It’s a trait that you oftentimes lack.”

“A racial plague amongst man. Dishonesty.” Si’Säni added.

“Not untrue.” I admitted on behalf of the human race.

“And since you were straightforward with me, I’ll be so with you.” Iēzäñ exhaled heavily as her fingertips tapped tensely against the table top. “Fä’, Si’, I’m sorry but I have to know that I can truly trust to your promises. I have to be completely certain you’ll stay true to me. The repercussions for what I’m about to say getting out are just…too high.”

“I understand My Lady. And you have my word. I swear.” Fä’Äfkä agreed with no hesitation.

“Whatever you wish My Lady. On my word.” Si’Säni concurred almost as quickly.

I almost stopped her from saying anything further. Whatever it was she was about to tell me was something that she shouldn’t be. And I was putting her in a bad position by allowing her to do so. But I was selfish in those days. And I wanted to hear what she was going to say more than I wanted her to keep our secrets.

“You’re not wrong Samahdemn. Not completely. You’re not an easy man to care for. Many are your less appealing qualities. There’s so much…darkness in you that you try to hide, but I could always feel it. And I was never able to figure it out. There’s an anger that drives you that I don’t think you’ll ever be able to separate yourself from. But there’s also a lot in you that’s laudable. Lovable even. And in truth, the months we spent in each other’s company were pleasurable ones, I think. More smiles than tears.

“I won’t pretend that I haven’t thought about you on occasion and the brief moment we shared. About how I may have started to feel something I shouldn’t have. I thought that, maybe we could have had something then. And for a while, I allowed myself to get lost in it.

“After you left, I took that moment in time and I put it in a bottle. Placed it on a shelf in my mind. And sometimes, when I’m feeling lonely, I reach up to that shelf and open it up.”

My heart swelled.

“But how long has it been since we last saw each other? Four, five years now since you and yours finished assisting us in a munificence’s capacity? A lot has changed since then. And that moment isn’t something that can be recaptured. Not anymore.”

Crestfallenness found me; dragging my heart back down to Mundus just as quickly as it had risen.

“The Great Decline’s gotten worse?” I asked.

“Yes and no. I’m steering my people out of it, but it’s coming with…a cost.”

“War?”

“Not if I can help it. Not if what I’m doing succeeds.” Reaching behind herself, Ñä’Kimuli undid her noda, and unwrapped it; allowing the purple-clad loc to fall freely down her chest. “I need not remind you what this is, correct?”

“Your commitment braid? Of course you don’t.”

“I figured you remembered. Your memory was always the sharpest I’ve ever known. And you’re not dense. So how could you confess to me? Now? When we had all of the time in the world years ago? How could you make me say to you what I just said?” Her ears were starting to become more aggressive in their angle. “Why would you assume to approach me when I know you know better? Would you dishonour me to have me?”

I could feel my eyes widen. “I…I was…well, if I’m being honest, I was unsure as to what that particular colour represented.”

“Then allow me to enlighten you on her behalf.” Si’Säni stated matter-of-factly with her tiny voice. Breaking through our conversation with mousy presence, but commanding confidence. “I don’t know what your history is with Lady Iēzäñ. It’s obviously important to her, but it matters not. As your kind is fond of saying, ‘it’s a new day’.

“She’s right.” Fä’Äfkä stated in support. “Your straightforwardness is commendable. Sweet even. Maybe your intentions are honest, but you aren’t. And besides, even if you were true, as Lady Iszan’s been trying to relate to you, what you want can’t happen. The purple hue of the rope around our Lady’s loc? It means that she’s promised herself to another.”

“You’re engaged?”

Ñä’Kimuli pondered this word for a moment after noting both my surprise and disappointment. “Yes. I believe that’s the word that you humans would use. Engaged.”

“Ah. I see. A noble I assume. So the bonding ceremony is for you.”

She looked down and started to fiddle with the table’s adornments. “Yes. Of course. But, I wasn’t trying to lie to you. It’s not going to be a sunset ceremony. He wished the bonding to be by the customs of his people, not mine. As was his right by status.”

“Well then…he’s a…he’s a lucky man.” I stated sadly with feigned earnestness as my heart suddenly became heavy with sadness and regret.

“Yes. Lucky… And dangerous.” Back to her drink she turned her attention after those final whispered words passed her lips; seeming to get momentarily lost in the red swirls created by its rose syrup. “Dangerous for you if we’re not careful.”

“What was that?” I asked responding instinctively to the thinly veiled threat.

“Never mind.” she stated with a shake of her head, realizing that she hadn’t whispered to herself quite as quietly as she’d thought. “You needn’t concern yourself overmuch. I didn’t mean to threaten you. But you should be warned against the mistake you’re trying to make with me.”

“And what if I didn’t care about making a mistake with you?” I asked, pushing things a little further than I should’ve. “By Brŭmal, what if you didn’t care about making a mistake with me?”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

She and her friends looked at me sharply. “That’s not a game you want to play with me Samahdemn.” she stated with a certain devastating seriousness. “You’d not want to know the…monster that my betrothed is.”

Her emphasis on the word monster left a bad taste in my mouth; it sent a shiver of concern down my spine. Everything about her mannerisms told me that she wasn’t overstating the situation.

“Assuming that it ever got as far as him.” Fä’Äfkä added. “I’d be content to just allow Ångël, Sälēm or Jöliē to have their way with you.”

Ñä’Kimuli laughed darkly. “Wouldn’t that be a sight.”

“And who are they exactly? Your personal guardswomen?”

Ñä’ stared at me, pondering, I imagine, whether or not to answer that. “It’s of no concern. You’ll never meet them anyway. And if you ever did…”

“I’m sure you’re right.” I said. “Well, in any case, I won’t-”

“-No, you won’t.” Ñä’Kimuli interrupted. “Anyway, I’m a bit surprised that you didn’t ask Waimund about my loc. He knows our people well. Is he not with you?”

“No. He’s not. Not here anyhow.”

“So it’s only you and Jeruian?”

“Technically, yes My Lady.”

“I’d love to talk to him again. He was always nice.”

“I can do that for you I think.” I stretched my neck to better expose my laryngophone and squeezed the clandestine device against my throat. “Say hello J. You-know-who was hoping to hear from you again.”

“I take it you told Ñä’Kimberly we’re working together.”

“She sussed it out on her own. And it’s Lady Iēzäñ.”

“You mucked things up, didn’t you?”

“A bit.”

I could almost feel him saying “I told you so” with his eyes through the temporary silence before he finally responded.

“Good day, Lady Iēzäñ.”

Ñä’Kimuli’s acute elven ears allowed her to hear him over the radio just as we both knew they would. She made a squeezing motion near her neck to signal to me to clench down on my device again. But I shook my head.

“It doesn’t work that way. I'll...have to get closer.”

I unplugged my ear bud and neck strap from the small radio I had tucked under my clothes. And seizing the opportunity before she could object, I took my chances and moved in closer to Ñä’Kimuli. Sitting on a pillow next to her despite her earlier condemnation of sharing the table, and lowering the device’s volume so as not to draw the attention of other patrons about us and risk alerting Further to our presence. I was close enough to her to smell the oils in her locs and butters on her skin over the collage of scented smokes filling the space. She smelled dįvįnë; just as she did years ago.

It brought to the surface memories of an unattended greenhouse. The smell of lilies of the valley and nicotianas. My arm around her waist. My fingers cradling her head amidst a waterfall of micro braids tipped in bronze beads. Her smile fading as my tongue slid slowly between her full lips.

Memories of a better time from years ago.

And much to my delight, it seemed as if Ñä’, like me, was taking advantage of this excuse to be close as well. She didn’t protest my proximity. In point-of-fact, she even scooted closer ever so slightly.

Si’Säni and Fä’Äfkä were visibly uncomfortable with the sudden closeness, but since their Lady had silently allowed it, they said nothing.

“Hello Jeruian. It’s good to hear your voice again.”

“You too My Lady. It’s been far too long, I think.”

“Yes, it has. I wish it was under a circumstance where you weren’t on the job. Maybe we all could have sat and talked for a while; broken bread and shared some smoke.”

“That truly is unfortunate. Ray would have loved that. How have you been?”

She shrugged her shoulders absentmindedly as if he could see her. “Somewhere between fair and middling. But I won’t complain.”

“That’s really good to hear. Maybe when our work here is completed, we’ll be able to take some time away with the coin we have coming from this job. Visit the mountains again. I’m sure Sam would like nothing more.”

Ñä’Kimuli’s elven eyes linked with mine and I could feel heat rising from my collar. And, for the briefest moment, I would have sworn that I felt something flash between us.

Wistful thinking can be a bastard.

“I’m sure.” she said. “Well…please send Waimund my best.”

“Of course.”

Ñä’ smiled wide. Wider than she should have. And when she looked at me, her face when from happiness, to shock and realization, to embarrassment. Clearing her throat, she sharply turned away from me. Looking down to her drink and back to her companions with a face full of guilt. Even though they’d given her no accusatory glares. She waited until I released the switch before she gently pushed me away from her and said-

“No need to embarrass him. But please tell him when you get the chance that it’s Ñä’Kimuli. It’s not a human name. Ooh-lee. Ooh-lee. There’s no…bur in it. I’ve told him that before.”

She needed more than physical distance from me when she pushed me back. She needed to try to reestablish social and emotional distance as well. She was being too familiar with us. I could understand that. Many of the other of the sunset elvan nobility oft said that they thought she was too quick to mingle with commoners. But when I knew her, she’d always bore that criticism with a bit of quiet pride. It’s why she and we had all become close in those days before.

It was nice to see that some of that still remained in her. Even if she did fight it a bit more than she used to.

But all I can remember thinking at the time was how cute her ears looked as they lay themselves against her head and relaxed again each time she stressed the proper pronunciation of her name.

“Oh no!” I exclaimed in response to her request. “I’m sure he won’t be embarrassed at all.”

I’d stated the acknowledgement with all of the excitement of a child as I hurriedly reconnected all of my plugs and stuffed the radio back under my clothing. I couldn’t squeeze my throat fast enough. “She said you mispronounced her name again J. She’s proper mad about it too.”

The Iÿälojä smiled and her earrings jingled playfully as she cocked her head in my direction. “You’re an idiot.” she said with a half laugh.

“I’m sorry. I’ve always been poor at elven pronunciations.”

“Jeruian doesn’t need to apologize. I know he didn’t mean anything by it. He never did. I see you three still enjoy ribbing each other.”

“It makes the day go by faster.”

“And I see you’re still trying to marry tech to your hunts with them.”

“Only when they agree to it.” I admitted. “Which Ray almost never does.”

“Sounds like him. He was always very rigid in his faith.”

“Radios are all well and fine, but I think the way mine works skirts a line in his mind that he doesn’t want to risk crossing. A shame. He would have enjoyed talking to you again.

“And the idea of your friends being detained for broaching religious mandate doesn’t bother you? Or forcing them to damn their souls?” Fä’Äfkä asked me rather boldly. But it was a part of her nature. I couldn’t hold her bluntness against her.

The eluvian by-and-large lack a lot of ego and they’re communal beings in a way that few other races are.

“The I.A.M.H. is granted special dispensation from the Temple for its hunters. Fighting fiends without the benefit of some more…advanced tools can be a bit challenging. And our numbers are too few as it is to risk avoidable losses because we ignored useful tools.”

I found myself looking back to Si’Säni out of idle curiosity. Or careless curiosity. And clumsily changing topics I asked- “So? What about your noda?”

“What about her noda?” Fä’Äfkä asked. Her ears twitching in agitation.

“Peace, lady elf.”

Anger washed over me over the implied accusation, but I managed to push it to the side. I wasn’t prostrating myself before the alter of Ñä’ simply to attempt to rebound with whomever was at the table. I’d already made my choice. And I wanted Ñä’Kimuli. Even if she no longer wanted me.

“I just wanted to know what it’s colour represented.”

Ñä’Kimuli nodded. “You have to forgive Fä’. She can be very protective of her sister. But, to ensure that you don’t bring upon yourself any further embarrassment in the future should you continue to find yourself among my people, I’ll share another tidbit of our culture with you. Never, ever, approach an elven woman in a…forward way, who has a yellow noda. Or a bare one.”

“Okay. Noted. But, what’s the significance?”

“An elf-” Fä’Äfkä said, “doesn’t receive any wrappings for their noda before they approach adolescence. Once they do, yellow wrappings are the first to be gifted to them. Basically, they indicate that she, or he, is no longer a child per se, but they also aren’t an adult yet. They’re too young to court.”

That explained her initial shyness. And her whisper of a voice. “I see. And what constitutes adulthood to such a long-lived people?”

“Older than what it would be to a human.” Ñä’Kimuli said. Much older.”

“The yellow rope is gifted by the father to the son, or by the mother to the daughter on the anniversary of their twentieth Sun’s Warmth. It’s replaced with a white wrapping on their sixtieth name day. Although it’s not been uncommon in recent years for them to dawn purple around that time. If you were to ask me, this younger generation is far too influenced by the western world. Too quick to want to bond.”

Four decades of adolescence?

I was apparently unable to disguise the shock on my face because laughter ensued from the table, cutting the growing tension. I felt an almost overwhelming desire to ask Ñä’ what her age actually was, as I realized that I never had before. But I exercised restraint in this situation and managed not to broach the awkward question.

Before I could attempt to use what little charm I thought I might still have to apologize to the young elven woman for, once again, possibly making her anxious unintentionally, Jeruian’s excited voice came blasting into my ear.

“Sam, we have to go. I think Further is just about done. She looks like she may be getting ready to move.”

“I hear you.”

I re-focused my attention on Ñä’. Possibly for the final time. I wanted to etch every aspect of her in this moment in my mind before I lost her forever. Every curve. Every stray hair. Every tilt of her head.

At least I tried. I thought.

She smiled at me, but in a sad sort of way. Maybe she was doing the same? Trying to make sure she remembered me.

Her ears further relaxed to as restful of a posture as elven ears can. Fä’Äfkä passed her the hose from their shared pipe and she lightly drew on it, but no longer seemed to derive any pleasure from the activity. Pushing her drink away, finished with the concoction, she exhaled sweet smelling, discontented vapors.

“Go on.” Fä’Äfkä expressed as she nodded away from their table; her voice deepening for a moment under the weighty smoke escaping her lungs. “Your friend is calling to you.”

“I feel sorry for you human.” Si’Säni said. “I don’t know you, but for what it’s worth, I think it’s…cute in a human-kind-of-way that you seem so earnestly sweet on our Iÿälojä. Misguided, but cute. There must be something about you that we can’t see given that the Lady seems to think…something of you. But you must understand that you can’t have what you want.

“I’m not really sure that you could have had it even if things weren’t what they are to be honest. The eluvian would never allow…well…it’s not really my place to say. But at least now you know that you don’t need to waste any more of your time ‘wolfing up the wrong tree’. It’s for the best of all involved.”

“Barking, Si’Säni. I think the saying is ‘barking up the wrong tree’.” Fä’Äfkä corrected.

Si’Säni shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Sisters, not to interrupt, but Samahdemn might want to radio Jeruian.” Ñä’ interjected.

“How’s that?” I asked.

“I don’t know what or who it is that you three are into, but whatever it is, you seem to have garnered some attention. Someone’s watching you.”

“Are you certain that they’re not just entranced by your beauty, My Lady?” I asked with a smile that I felt melt naturally across my lips.

“Stop. Don’t be charming Samahdemn. You haven’t noticed while we’ve been talking,” she tilted her head upward in the direction of a table behind and to the left of me, “but I have. That woman over there hasn’t ceased staring in this direction since you came over. She’s definitely watching you.”

I followed her eyes over to the table in question and she was right. The table’s occupant hadn’t even bothered to look away when my eyes caught hers. There was no shame, coyness or fear in her gaze.

Why hadn’t I observed this woman before?

My initial thought was to kick myself for not noticing the blatant attention, regardless of the fact that my mind had been occupied by one thing or another my entire time in the lounge. But after a moment, that thought was replaced with what I can only describe as an unexplainable fear-laced wonderment.

Brought now to my attention, I found that I couldn’t turn my gaze away from the middle-aged stranger who sat to herself, surrounded only by the smoke from her water pipe.

Slightly sharpened canines poked out shyly from behind her full lips. Her amazingly dark skin lent her to either a Swalii or Dwalli heritage, but I couldn’t see if she had plugs.

Not that it really mattered.

Medium rare lamb sat on the plate before her. The pink of its center clearly visible as she cut into it; the juices running out of it heavily tainted with blood-like liquid.

Everything about her demeaner was commanding. Her vibrant eyes were glowing a white so bright that, in the dim atmosphere of the lounge, they appeared to be akin to two miniature suns. So mesmerizing were they that they seemed to be calling to me.

One of the ever-elusive adzæ. I think. I thought to myself as I continued to study her.

----------

On the Subject of the Vampiri

The adzæ, also known as the vampiri, are widely known throughout the world as a people who are ageless. Whose strength is that of any ten centauride men. Whose fleetness is the stuff of fables and legends. And whose need to devour the blood of others…is terrifying.

Since the adzæ tended to be a very insular group of beings, not a great deal was known about them to anyone that wasn’t one of them. Not that it stopped commoners from spreading wives’ tales on their origins or academics from attempting to study them. Even with all I’d read on them over the years, and as often as I was contracted to hunt the more feral of them, I’d never run across any volume of history written by one of the adzæ people themselves. And none of the texts I’d read in my years as a munificence had led me to any grand understanding of them that other educated people lacked.

In the early years of their recorded existence, when their feeding was much more indiscriminate, they were considered little more than monsters shrouded in mortal skin. Beasts that used their preternatural senses to find victims, silence of movement to stalk them under the cover of darkness and their near supernatural abilities to seduce and manipulate them; leading to the creatures controlling, possessing or most often, consuming the prey who were trapped in the midst of their overwhelming thrall.

Apex predators.

But such did not remain the case. As all things, with the benefit of time, must and do change.

As far as what’s believed to be known, given the great lengths through which the night children have gone to keep their nature from the greater populous, the so-called un-people seem to have come into existence sometime during the early years of the Golden Age of the Craft. Almost three millennia ago; under a single coven that was believed to be known as Ŝakan. Exactly how this happened is a point of much contention among many higher institutions of learning. But what’s not in dispute is that the constant divisions of the race and conflicts between what had evolved into the ten and two Old Covens led the adzæ down a road of ever-increasing internal hostilities. And desperation brought on by an eventually strained food supply, being hunted by mortals and population decline on the heels of too many failed turnings, were the sparks that ignited the Adzæian War.

A devastating conflict to be sure, but one that marked a change among the adzæ for the better; it brought order. The thousand or so years that followed saw the utter collapse of the Old Covens and the rise of the ten and nine Families under the four adzæian kingdoms. Known far and wide today as the four Great Houses.

Among these kingdoms are the four Families that fall under House Bæ-aŭtk; comprised of the adzæ who are more-or-less religiously driven, leading them to use the Oratory’s faith as the building blocks of their laws.

There are the five that belong to House RæƔŭir, who structure their ecosystem to ardently adhere to most mortal jurisprudence.

There’s the four Families that are the arms of House Zipŭl, who hold fast only to their own moral code to outline an individual constitution by which their internal laws are set.

And then there’s the largest and most revered known House; Xinana. Comprised of the six Families who lay claim to some of the oldest bloodlines in the adzæian nation. Whose internal politics are largely unknown. Even to other adzæs.

Following the vampiri’s near extinction, once the dust of the Adzæan War had settled, in the wake of the erection of the Great Houses, the respective matrons and matriarchs of these kingdoms wished to parlay to cease hostilities with man and mer. And most of the rulers and leaders of the non-vampiri races agreed to these conclaves. As a result, over the course of several dozen years an uneasy peace was brokered between many of them, becoming known colloquially as The Pact.

Since the striking of The Pact, the adzæ’s need to feed has been considered in many countries to be socially acceptable so long as the doners were willing and no lives were taken. And when an adzæ found themselves falling outside of the constraints of the Houses’ agreements with mortals, well, that’s usually when the I.A.M.H. would receive a contract.

And I’d been handed down many a contract by the Association during my time as a munificence.

As a result of this new social acceptance, entire communes cropped up seemingly overnight full of people who not only supported the adzæian way of life and were curious to donate, but considered themselves hopefuls; willing to trade their lives of freedom for thralldom as a familiar in the hopes that one day their petition to their perspective Family to receive the Dark Gift was accepted.

But the differing processes of evaluation by the individual Families can be long and rigorous. Not to mention that the statutes of acceptance set forth by the Houses that sit over the Families in question, which are largely enforced by The Pact, can be difficult to surmount even if a long-time familiar’s name is put forward by a Familial monarch. The King or Queen of the House gets the ultimate vote and their word is law; a law that, when broken, is often enforced by pain of a final death.

Grave are the terms under The Pact for good reason. Few are ever allowed access to everlasting life adrift the ever-flowing river of blood which an adzæ traverses, or the secrets they keep. Lest the world be uncontrollably peopled with vampiri.

----------

The adzæ refused to avert her gaze from me as she took another surgically cut slice of the meat from her plate, did her best to rub it about on the dish to soak up some of the blood-like mess surrounding it and raised it to her mouth; her sharp canines sinking into the lightly prepared dish. And as she did, much was verified in my mind.

Interesting. I remember thinking to myself. So they can eat normal food.

And then there were her eyes. What Houses tend to lean genetically towards white eyes? I wondered. None I think. Right? Why can’t I remember?

I think I may have forced myself to physically wave the thought away, as if it were a corporeal thing in front of me. Fog over thought and memory are part of the nature of an adzæ’s possession; of their arresting gaze, should they wish it. And I needed to focus for fear of falling prey to it.

It doesn’t matter. But there’s something so odd about them. They don’t quite look- Wait a minute…white. White. The white of her eyes. They’re…they’re actually…white! Since when have the un-people had whites?

I couldn’t stop looking at her. Couldn’t tear my eyes away from hers. There was something about her that held me fast aside from her acute case of adzæsm. Something I couldn’t put a finger on. I was drawn to her in some way I couldn’t understand. Like I knew her. I felt as though I should talk to her. But the way she kept looking at me made me fear that there was more on her mind than there was on mine. Something sinister.

I hope she’s not contemplating making me her next meal. We didn’t spring for any silver tipped ammunition this trip if the need arises to fight her off-

Jeruian pulled me back into the moment with a few frantic bursts of radio static in my ear.

“What is it J?”

“I thought I was going to have to come over there and get you. I’ve been trying to get you to respond for almost three minutes.”

“Sorry.”

“You need to wrap it up with Lady Iēzäñ. We’re in danger of losing the lead.”

Shit.

I could see the concern on Ñä’s face though she did her best to conceal it in front of present company. So I did my best not to acknowledge it.

“Good. Once we have the primary, I’ll run the description of the new secondary past the Association. This may turn into a two-fer.”

“Sounds good.”

“Keep your eyes up. We may have a tertiary aggressor.”

“Another gut feeling?”

“I’m running heavy on those today. Did Ray pack any work ammo in his kit?”

“Are you serious?”

“When am I not?”

“By the Goddess…I think he usually keeps a few wooden slugs. Lignum vitae, of course. And some silver birdshot. He might even have some rocksalt if we’re lucky. What are we looking at?”

“Possible adzæ. But not certain.”

“Then we won’t have enough.”

“Like I said, it’s just a feeling. But it’s a strong one.”

“Well…let’s hope it stays a feeling.”

“Let’s hope. I’ll fill you in outside when we link with Ray. I’m on my way.”

“Wait!” Lady Iēzäñ yelped, seemingly against her better judgement given her body language. “¡Ñsuz!” she spat. But this time, only to herself, under her breath.

“I…I think I need a moment before you go. Please?”

My mind was torn between her, the adzæ across the room and Nanci. And for a moment, I was lost as I tried to come to a decision on what to do. But then there were her eyes. Those beautiful oceans of living midnight. Even in the face of killers and fiends, I never could say no to those eyes.

“Of course.” I said finally. “J, let me know when she moves.” I entreated without once taking my eyes off of Ñä’Kimuli. “I need another minute.”

I know he wasn’t happy with the request. His immediate silence was deafening. But he allowed it. “Make it quick.”

“Sisters, I need you to leave us be for a moment. This isn’t a request.” The sunset elf ordered of her kin. “Close the drapes on your way out.”

They both looked as if you could have knocked them over with a feather, they were so confounded. They followed Ñä’s command, but it was obvious that they’d rather not have. And as they made their way past me, Si’Säni stopped short to breathe something to me in sunset.

“Jvÿuq ğmsbxftñ qsćvk.”

My eyes followed her out of the cubby as the curtain closed behind her.

“What did she say?” I asked when I was comfortable that they were far enough gone and I turned back to face Ñä’Kimuli. Only I found her no longer seated on her pillow; as she’d used her elven fleetness to move from her seat and was now standing, what felt in the moment, to be but a hare’s breath away from me.

“It’s not important.” she shushed; her eyes hard and judging.

“Lady…Iēzäñ?”

“Don’t lie to me Sam. This is important.”

“About what?”

“Before me, how many eluvian had you shared an…intimate moment with?”

The question was blunt and wholly unexpected. And it honestly threw me into a mental space that I wasn’t ready for and was ill equipped to be in. Needless to say, I fell into defensiveness.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“Answer the question. Please.”

“Why? None.”

“Truly?”

“Truly. I never said so, because we were so…new to each other. You didn’t know me. But I wanted you to be my everything.”

“So you didn’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

She took a step back. “You’re a Magi. I expected you knew what you were want to pull us into.”

“I never told you that.”

“No. You didn’t.”

I felt a scowl form on my face, but I couldn’t stop or contain it. “When did you find out?”

“You hid it well enough, but I always knew. You couldn’t have thought that a royal housecarl would have contracted you on behalf of their Iÿälojä without knowing who the fuck she was bringing into her house? Coin and influence can dig up a lot. And I have quite a bit of both.”

“My life is…complicated. Even now, as much as I want to, I can’t really speak to it or tell you why. It’s better for both of us if we simply leave it at that.”

“Another vow?”

“Yes. But one mostly made to myself. What’s the point?”

“My kind are very careful when we enter into relationships with each other, or with Magi. You know how heka works, so I don’t really need to tell you that our spiritual distance to the Dįvįnë source is close. Heka runs very strong in us. And very deep. It’s intrinsic to our nature and we’re sensitive to it. So much so that, when we…are close in that way, we can actually taste it on one another. It tastes of spell weaving. And I tasted it on you. That’s when I knew.”

“Copper on the tongue? I tasted it on you too.”

Her eyes widened with surprise, and she retook her step closer to me. “Odd. You shouldn’t have. You’re human.”

“So I keep telling myself. What does it mean?”

“Maybe you have eluvian blood.”

“Doubtful.”

She looked as if she’d started to dwell on it, but then shook her head in a way that made it look like she was sweeping the mystery away. And she was right to. Time wasn’t on our side.

“Regardless,” she continued, “the point is, that for my kind, heka can have a binding effect between us.”

“Meaning?”

“Intimacy ties us together through the Flow. From situations like ours, were only a kiss or a touch was ever shared, to full on…pairing, where the bond is nigh unbreakable. It’s like, becoming one through the threads of creation. It’s why eluvian, by-and-large, very rarely part once bonded with each other.

“And it’s why…”

“Why what?”

“Goddess…you really are an idiot.” she expressed with a playful demeanor; eyes cast down, smile bright. A lovely quiet laugh surrounding the words with all of the sweetness of honey.

She took my hand shyly; toying with my fingers as she did. And instinctively, mine engaged in this playful dance with hers.

“I brought you into my garden; I bore to you a piece of me that I’ve never shared with anyone, all for the sake of a clandestine kiss. A touch. Now why do you think I’d do that?”

She…she loves me too?

“You see it? Yes?”

She’d read the look on my face; absorbed my thoughts. But wouldn’t say it aloud.

“I’m so slow sometimes.”

“Yes. But, in a cute way.” She placed a hand over my heart. “It’s also why you’re not wrong. I do think there is some providence in seeing you. The Flow drawing us back into one another’s paths again. The Goddess puts us all where we need to be at the time we need to be there. Even if we’re not sure why in the moment.”

I eagerly nodded my agreement. I could feel the shift between us. And I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.

“This may be the only chance I’ll ever have to give you something I…wanted to give you before you left. But I can’t give it to you freely.” Ñä’Kimuli admitted.

“What do you want to give me?”

Looking down at her noda, she took the heavy purple loc and tossed it over her shoulder, out of both of our sight, with all of the guilt of a woman pocketing her wedding ring before bedding another man. “A second moment. To remember us by.”

“What price would you ask of me?”

“Another truth. You said you loved me. Did you mean that? Was that real?”

All I had for her was honesty. “I’m not a good man. I never have been. But I’ve never lied to you Lady Iēzäñ. I’ve thought of little else but you since the day I left. Whatever heka you say bound you to me through our time together, must have bound me in turn. And if I’m being true, it’s a thralldom I welcome. With all of my heart.”

The hardness drained from her eyes and I felt her arms wrap themselves around my waist as she slowly closed the gap between our bodies. I did the same in kind without thinking while scooping the nape of her neck into my hand just below her massive and beautiful knot of locs.

My emotions continued to fall from my mouth; my words no longer under my control. I was reduced to a ball of need and longing. “I was wrong to leave My Lady, even if it was mutual. Even if we both thought at the time that it was for the best. And Goddess take my soul, if I could have that time back, I would.”

I could feel all of her formality melt away as the hand I was using to follow her waist found a resting place at the small of her back.

“This is a mistake.” she confessed softly. “We shouldn’t do this.”

“My Lady?”

She stood a foot shorter than I, and in so being, dug herself into my chest. “But you were right. It’s one I’m willing to make…with you. It’s a mistake I’ll live with.”

As befuddled as I was that all of this was actually happening, I didn’t allow that to stop me from cradling her as best I could and burying my face into her hair; taking in the very essence of her…this woman I’d missed for so long.

It was a mistake we’d both live with.

“Am I dreaming?” I found myself whispering.

“What?” she whispered in return.

“Is this really happening right now? Are you…real?”

She leaned back to look up at me as she spoke; her large onyx coloured eyes destroying me utterly.

“Are you? Would it matter?”

She pulled my radio’s ear bud out seductively as she whispered to me her last.

“Just be alone in this moment with me. Call me by my name. Kiss me. And know that we can never do this again.”

She’s right. Should it matter if this is a dream? I might as well go with it. I thought to myself.

“Yes…Ñä’.” I whispered in return.

Even though she’d given the full heft of herself over to me that I may carry out her command, she still felt as if she weighed almost nothing. I squeezed her against my body, fighting the urge to free her locs and use them to draw her head back and expose her neck. Instead, I consumed her thick lips in a way that I’d never before done with any other woman. Slow. Deliberate. But with a longing cultivated for years.

She tasted of alcohol and peach shisha.

She tasted of copper and heka.

She tasted of joy.

In the heat of the moment, my hand slid away from her hair, down the back of her neck, over her collarbone, and down towards the middle of her chest where she placed her hand over mine, gently halting my advance to her breasts.

“No.” she whispered as she parted her lips from mine just enough to speak. “That can’t be for you. Not now. Not anymore.”

“Hmm.” I exhaled with a bit more disappointment than I think I meant to. “Déjà vu.”

“I’m…I’m sorry. It’s never been my intention to tease you, my Sam. Not then, and especially not now.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for. You don’t owe me anything.”

Her smile mirrored mine as her melanated fingers gently caressed my cheek. And I felt myself press my head into the warmth of her delicate palm almost involuntarily. “I know.” said she. “But it’s because you say things like that, that make me want to give you everything. It makes me wish that I could.”

With her continued permission, I quietly pecked her lips, her neck, I gently caressed her ears in the eluvian way, and I squeezed her as she exhaled salaciously; trying to quench my thirst for her as best I could by simply feeling her in my arms. But I wanted so much more. I needed more. I’d fantasized of holding her again for so long. She’d haunted my dreams. My every step. I’d searched for her taste on the lips of every woman I’d been with since I’d last kissed her and I’d found every woman since lacking.

My teeth brushed against her lobes as I ceased my nibbling and I hugged her for all she was worth.

I’d not have this chance again.

“Don’t do it Ñä’. Please.” We were not more than intimate whispers now.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t bond with him. Whoever he is.”

“I have to.”

Every fiber of my being urged me to come clean with her. I wanted to divulge my Knighthood. To tell her of my noble birth; however estranged it may be, all consequences of being hunted be damned. I wanted her to know that I could be a “good match”. But all that came out was my choked up voice saying-

“I love you.”

She leaned away from me. Caressing my cheek caringly. “I know.”

A few steps back, and she was no longer a part of me. She wiped her eyes. Drying tears I hadn’t noticed.

“I know.” she reiterated more firmly, speaking aloud now. No more whispers between us. No more secrets to be forged.

She repositioned her noda between the two of us; as any good woman rightfully should, though it saddened me to watch her do it. I shook my head, still trying to speak. But found no words to wrap my voice around. I wanted to tell her something; anything to hold onto her; to hold onto us. But I knew there was nothing that was going to change her mind. And I didn’t want to force her, as she said, to dishonour herself.

So just like that, the moment had passed. And I was alone again. Naturally.

“I have to call my attendants back in here. I can’t keep them out any longer.”

“I understand.”

“Before I do, tell me what I said to you. I have to hear you say it.”

“We…we won’t do this again.” I took a step closer to tears than I would have liked with each word.

She nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

She sat back down. “I’m to be a bonded woman.” she said before calling the ladies back in. “I’ll never again mention what just happened between us. And I’m holding you to your word Sam.”

“You won’t have to. I love you enough to respect it.” I re-opened the curtains and motioned to the two fem-elves to come back in.

“You’d better get a move on Samahdemn.” Fä’Äfkä stated with barely contained resentment as she brushed past me. She wasn’t a fool. Neither of the lunar elves were. And it was obvious that they were very unhappy with us being alone behind the curtains as we were. It wasn’t…becoming of a Lady in Ñä’s position. “Your friend is waiting for you at the bar. Seems to me like he might leave you if you don’t heed his calls.” She tapped her ear and I realized that I’d forgotten to put my ear bud back in before I opened the cubby.

Looking across the room, I spied Jeruian standing exactly where Fä’Äfkä indicated as I scrambled to jam the earpiece back in. And Further’s booth was empty. I was fucking up.

“So Nanci was it? The woman you two are following?” Ñä’ asked.

“Yes My Lady.”

The sunset elf nodded slightly. “Careful you don’t get yourself killed Samahdemn. People are often worse than fiends. Fiends are simply doing what it is in their nature to do. People on the other hand…”

“I know Ñä’.”

She frowned. “I already told you. Don’t call me that anymore.” With that, Ñä’Kimuli turned from me. The conversation was over.

Nodding, I walked toward Jeruian who was standing by the bar; unable to focus on anything other than the moment I’d just shared with the woman of my dreams. A moment between two hearts filled with love and regret.

Jeruian was fuming as I approached him. But that anger almost immediately mellowed to mild annoyance and pity when he saw my face. Then came his signature smile as I dug for my wallet and pulled out a small grouping of folding currency of different denominations.

“So? No luck?” he asked.

“It went better than I’d hoped…and yet, worse than I’d feared.”

“What’d I tell you? I hope it was worth seeing her again because Nanci is getting away, and the new mark has gone ghost.”

I drew in a breath and gave him my most glowing pseudo smile. I had nothing to say.

Looking back through the quiet crowd of smokers towards the adzæ’s cubby again, I noticed that the stranger’s attention had thankfully been taken up by another person who’d claimed a seat with her. Male. Dark skinned. Powerfully built. Yet another figure I hadn’t previously noticed in the room.

But, then again, maybe they’d entered the room when Ñä’ and I were alone.

Since the man in question was sitting with his back to me, I couldn’t tell if he were another adzæ or not. But I thought it best to assume that he was, lest he be a familiar. Adzæians weren’t known for making friends outside of their kind.

Within moments they were joined by yet another shadowy figure; this one a Ma’Jong female, who I at first assumed to be a slave, but then changed that opinion once I took in the finery of her clothes.

A free woman. Dark of fur and hair. Head held high.

I quickly re-examined the entire room as I flopped legal tinder on the bar. This now made three people I hadn’t noticed enter the lounge since I’d been there. Ñä’ was both the worst thing for me, and the best thing that had ever happened to me.

I hoped that I’d get to see her again some day.

“You ok?” Jeruian asked. “You’re looking a little lost.”

“Yeah.” I quickly declared. “I’m good.”

But a final glance in the adzæ’s direction threw me and made me question that declaration. That’s when I noticed something strange. Or, at least, I thought I’d noticed something.

Wait…what in the fuck…

It was the most bizarre thing; the adzæ’s hair seemed to be suddenly littered with white strands. I didn’t remember noticing that before. Was her hair highlighted the whole time?

As arresting as that was, I still found myself being pulled once again from my machinations as, out of my peripheral, I noticed Ñä’Kimuli glimpsing at me. As I returned her glance, she smiled, and turned back to her friends.

Jeruian jerked me by the shoulder and turned my attention to the issue of Ms. Further. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I think so.” I answered honestly.

“What happened when you were alone in there with her? What did she say?”

Just be alone in this moment with me. Call me by my name. Kiss me. “…Nothing that bears repeating.” I lied, as her words floated through my head.

He was unconvinced, but now wasn’t really the time to address it. “I need you to pay attention to what’s going on. We’re already flying a bit blind as it is. Do I need to be concerned?”

“Sorry.” I apologized while shaking all my superfluous thoughts. I pushed the adzæ and her suddenly appearing entourage to the back of my mind. I tried to do the same with Ñä’ and her friends as well. But that was a much more complicated matter.

“No. We’re one hundred. Let’s get after Further.”

With that, out of the establishment in tandem with Jeruian did I go. We briskly crossed the moderately busy cobblestone street to pick up after Nanci. Fortunately, she hadn’t yet gotten far due to my unexpected side quest.

If you asked me now, I still wouldn’t be able to tell you definitively if Nanci Further was acutely aware that we’d been shadowing her or if there was something in our mannerisms that betrayed us, but as soon as we found ourselves falling into our normal rhythm, following her on that sidewalk, we were made. And it’s from there that things went quickly downhill.