Ebonheim crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes in thought. She recalled her various discussions with everyone so far and their varying reactions toward Kelzryn. Most seemed open to accepting him—albeit wary at first. While others...like Evelyne...were less receptive towards the idea. However...overall...their opinions were mixed thus far.

"I guess..." she began slowly, "you'll have to show them why they should want you around. Build trust. Earn respect. Treat everyone kindly. That sort of thing." She opened her eyes again and met his gaze. "We're simple folk here...we appreciate hard workers. So if you can contribute positively in some way—especially towards Ebonheim's future—that'd be ideal."

He listened attentively while she spoke, his face remaining impassive throughout her explanation. Once she finished speaking, he dipped his chin in acknowledgement. "That sounds reasonable enough."

He regarded her silently for another moment—his gaze unblinking—before continuing. "Would you demonstrate how I should conduct myself?" he requested. "Perhaps by accompanying you on an activity?"

"Umm..." Ebonheim mumbled in surprise by the request. She scratched her head awkwardly before responding. "I don't think there's anything for me to do right now other than patrol the area or talk with the townsfolk. Honestly...they probably have things covered on their own for the most part."

She scratched her cheek sheepishly. "But...uhh...I suppose if you want to tag along then...sure...that'd work. Just follow my lead. Okay?"

"Very well." He rose gracefully from his seat on the log and followed her as she led the way, her steps light and familiar against the well-trodden paths.

As they walked side-by-side through town, she glanced up at him surreptitiously—still not quite used to his presence beside her. His imposing figure caused a few heads to turn their way, but otherwise everyone seemed to go about their business without incident.

Ebonheim, for her part, wore her role lightly, as a crown of daisies rather than a diadem of weighty gold. She greeted people cheerfully as she passed—answering any questions or concerns they had with ease and efficiency—while Kelzryn kept a respectable distance behind her at all times. He seemed content to listen and learn from the interactions without inserting himself into the discussions, which suited her just fine.

She led him towards a section of the town where a group of children sat playing. Upon seeing her approach, they jumped to their feet and surrounded her excitedly.

"Ebonheim! Look at my flowers! Do you like them?" one child cried out, thrusting a bouquet of wildflowers into her face.

Another child piped up. "Look what I found in the creek!" He proudly displayed a mud-caked frog sitting on his palm. Other children added their own offerings, presenting them with proud smiles on their faces.

Ebonheim laughed warmly and bent down to speak with the children eye-to-eye.

"Those look beautiful." She motioned towards the first girl who handed her the flowers. "Thank you."

She brushed her fingers gingerly across the petals and took in their fragrance before passing them back to their owner. Turning to the second boy holding the frog, she patted his head affectionately. "Ah! Good job. Have you thought about a name yet?"

The boy shook his head, causing the frog to bob precariously in his hands. He caught it before the creature could leap away and held onto the animal carefully. "Not yet. Maybe I'll ask my mama first."

"Okay. Make sure she doesn't mind having a pet." She grinned as the rest of the kids clambered closer and pleaded for attention.

A young girl, no older than seven, sprinted up to Ebonheim, a woven doll clutched in her tiny hands.

"Goddess," she cried, the title a remnant of a time before the goddess's ascent. "My doll's arm, it's torn!"

She presented the toy with mournful eyes.

Ebonheim placed a hand atop the child's head and ran her fingers through the brown curls. "Let's see what we can do for her, shall we?"

Her fingers, aglow with a soft light, brushed over the tear. Threads of magic wove the fabric back together, mending the doll as if it had never been damaged.

The girl's eyes widened in wonder, her joy unrestrained. "Thank you!" She hugged the doll tight, then turned to Kelzryn, staring up at him with unabashed curiosity. "Who're you?"

His mouth parted to respond, but Ebonheim answered quickly. "This is Kelzryn. He's my guest. Please make him welcome."

A chorus of polite 'hello's reached her ears, and Kelzryn bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Good day."

"Come play with us!" The kids ran circles around them. One girl pulled on Kelzryn's sleeve. "What's your favorite game? Do you wanna make mud pies? We can go collect stones and leaves!"

Ebonheim gave him a lopsided grin and a shrug. "Careful now," she teased, "once they rope you into their games, they'll never let you go."

Kelzryn hummed thoughtfully and dropped to one knee so he could properly face the youngsters. "Unfortunately, I must decline today," he explained. "Perhaps another time." His tone lacked any annoyance or anger; if anything, it was almost gentle.

The children stopped their running and accepted his words without complaint.

He placed his hand upon one girl's head and ruffled her hair. "Continue enjoying yourselves. Don't let me distract you from your play."

Ebonheim's grin softened. "Alright," she agreed. "Go on."

As they watched the children return to their games, she couldn't help but ask, "Aren't they cute?"

"I have little experience with children," he admitted, rising back to his full height. "I cannot say whether they are as you say. But I can tell that you enjoy interacting with them."

"I do," she acknowledged, grinning happily. "They make my heart happy."

He gazed down at her with a look she couldn't place. "Then they must truly be exceptional."

Their walk continued in peaceful quietness. Ebonheim's mood continued to brighten with each step she took. Everything around her seemed brighter, somehow—brighter and more vivid—than what she normally perceived. She wasn't sure what caused the change in perception. Maybe it was the company she kept? Perhaps the sunlight shimmered a bit differently today?

She stopped before a house where an elder woman struggled with a barrel that had tipped and rolled, spilling its contents across her garden path.

"Allow me," Kelzryn offered before Ebonheim could step forward, placing a hand upon the woman's shoulder.

The woman looked up, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the tall, horned stranger who lifted the barrel as if it were no more than a hollow reed.

Kelzryn righted it, his movements measured and precise, and began gathering the scattered vegetables with an elegance that seemed almost ceremonial.

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Ebonheim watched, a small smile playing on her lips. "You handle the turnips with an unexpected grace," she teased lightly, stepping beside him to help.

He cast a sideways glance in her direction before replying. "These are not turnips, these are radishes."

Huh?! Wait—he's right!

Ebonheim's cheeks burned hotter than the midday sun at being caught off guard. Her confidence faltered in an instant. She gawked at the red globe held firmly within his hand—its roundness defined by lines of dirt and veins of leaves.

"Ah...oh...umm...so...radishes. That's what I meant." She corrected herself lamely—rubbing the back of her neck to try and relieve the building embarrassment. "Looks like someone's a farmer at heart!"

She joked—desperate to move past her faux pas—but she wasn't sure if he understood. To her relief, a tiny smile appeared on his lips. He didn't press the issue further, choosing to focus his attention instead on completing his task. Together, they made quick work of the vegetables scattered throughout the yard.

Once done, Ebonheim straightened and waved goodbye to the elderly woman who had observed their assistance without saying a word. They walked away from the house, their steps falling in tandem once again. Ebonheim's mind returned to the present—to the cool breeze playing with her hair and the smell of the wildflowers blossoming alongside their route.

"Hey...I meant to ask earlier..." She hesitated for a second before voicing her question. "Did you—did you ever have offspring? You mentioned that you thought of me as 'kin' earlier, so I was wondering if dragons bore any young."

Kelzryn cast a thoughtful look in her direction and answered calmly, "We have no need to produce progeny, nor do we harbor any compulsion towards such action. Unlike mortals, we live lives indefinite and constant. Our numbers grow only by circumstance, not natural occurrence."

Ebonheim took the information in stride and asked another question. "Doesn't that get boring though? I mean...who'd want to live forever when everything remains static?"

He regarded her question for a moment—his face thoughtful. "No, not particularly. By existing, one develops an appreciation for change. This may seem counterintuitive; however, it is not so strange when understood correctly."

His eyes locked with hers as he explained his thoughts. "A creature that knows nothing but stability—whether in its environment or itself—becomes complacent. And thus susceptible to decay. From rot stems stagnation and sickness.

"However...change provides opportunity. A catalyst to transform and alter. All things change. The wind shifts, the grass withers, the mountains fall, the stars die. New growth sprouts amidst the dying leaves; fresh shoots rise where once laid bare soil. All things change. But we endure."

He paused for breath and swept his arm towards the sky. "Immortality brings freedom. Freedom from limitations imposed by limited lifetimes. Freedom from limitations imposed by self-imposed beliefs." He lowered his gaze from the heavens and directed a pointed stare her way. "And most importantly, freedom to explore possibilities."

His words struck a chord deep within her; Ebonheim stared up into the open expanse of blue and pondered what his statement implied.

She would outlive everyone she cared about—would likely survive them all—but could she continue to evolve while watching friends and family wither with the seasons? Or would she stay unchanged in both form and spirit? Would the inevitable loss prevent her from advancing forward—trapping her forever in this single moment—leaving her only the memories of her cherished denizens? Would their stories become only a faint echo in time—lost amongst countless others—never to be recovered or rediscovered again?

No. At the very least, their spirits would stay within her—lending their strength as she ventured onward. They wouldn't leave her truly alone.

Ebonheim wrapped her arms tightly around her midsection—shuddering from the cold breeze that swept across the open meadow—wishing to hold onto this instant as long as she could.

A warm hand descended upon her shoulder and she flinched instinctively before calming under its comforting weight.

She tilted her face and found herself meeting Kelzryn's gentle gaze. "If you grow lonely," he said quietly, his thumb brushing her shoulder blade, "then consider me a kindred soul. And a ready companion."

Ebonheim regarded him pensively as he held her gaze steady. The words he uttered held a deeper meaning beneath them, and for a heartbeat, she nearly embraced him in a fierce hug—but the moment passed quickly, leaving her frozen and uncertain.

Instead, she stepped away from his touch—instead gesturing towards a cluster of trees nearby—her voice a fraction weaker than usual. "Uhh...I was thinking we'd sit over there."

Without waiting for a reply, she quickened her pace, trying not to show how the conversation left her flustered and confused. She hid behind a large oak, leaning back against its bark, taking long measured breaths to calm her racing heart.

What am I getting so worked up about?

Kelzryn followed soon after—appearing around the side of the tree—his presence looming silently before her. He studied her expression carefully with sharp azure eyes.

After a pause, he inquired carefully, "Is all well? If I said something that displeased you—rest assured that I intended no offense."

Ebonheim shook her head resolutely. "It's not your fault! Not at all...you're not...that's not the reason. Trust me," she stated resolutely. She chewed her lower lip as she considered her words before continuing, "I just...need a break, I guess. Some fresh air and sunlight."

Kelzryn blinked several times, seemingly puzzled by her answer, but remained quiet. The breeze stirred his hair—caressing his face with silken strands—dancing freely about him—shimmering in the afternoon rays.

"Agreed. Let us remain here awhile and enjoy the afternoon." He sat cross-legged upon the grass and reclined against the tree trunk. "The weather seems amenable."

Ebonheim darted quick glances to her left and right while occupying the spot opposite him.

Great...now what do we do?

----------------------------------------

As the day progressed, Ebonheim felt a little self-conscious about her own actions and mannerisms. She couldn't help feeling like she was putting on a show for him. After all...this wasn't usually how she acted while out and about among her people. She found herself second-guessing her every word and movement, hoping she didn't make a fool of herself in front of him—especially since she was supposed to be giving an example of how to behave normally.

Despite her misgivings, she tried hard not to dwell too much on it—choosing instead to focus on helping those who came forward requesting assistance. She managed fairly well most times, easily falling into old routines without paying attention to whether her company made her nervous or not.

Other times...things went less smoothly. She did her best not to let any mistakes bother her but found herself overly critical about every minor thing she did. Luckily, he didn't seem to notice her increased apprehensiveness and carried on acting as casually as he had during their walk together.

When evening came, and her duties called her back towards the center of town, the tension within her began easing slowly. She didn't want to admit it out loud...but it was nice spending the whole day with him. Although their conversations could be a bit awkward and stilted, their silences still provided comfort—their presence and companionship sufficing without needing to say a single word.

Along the way, they stopped at the ruins of her cottage. Neither spoke for a long moment.

Eventually, Ebonheim cleared her throat and spoke. "Well...did you learn a lot today?"

"Quite a bit," Kelzryn admitted candidly. "Compared to other deities I've encountered, your way of life differs greatly from theirs. Everything I have experienced here today has taught me something valuable. And I intend to learn more."

The words made Ebonheim smile widely, pleased at the compliment. "Glad to hear," she chirped brightly. She spread her arms out and turned in a small circle. "I don't have any fancy halls or palaces, and our festivals aren't the fanciest. But I'm happy here." She gestured toward the rest of the settlement. "And so are the others."

She slanted a side-long look at him. "And if you're serious about wanting to be my exarch—and give your vow to watch over and protect the town and its people—then you should properly convey that to them. And also...please try to refrain from using such big and formal words. Most folks here are a simple bunch, and we prefer straightforward and plain speaking. Got it?"

"Understood. I shall endeavor to adapt accordingly," he answered readily.

Ebonheim couldn't help laughing at his serious expression. "Good luck. Anyways..." She peeked back toward the remains of her cottage and sighed. "Well...here's my stop. Guess this is goodnight."

She stepped past the threshold and gave him a little wave. "See you tomorrow. Oh, and..." She glanced away shyly. "I...um...I enjoyed spending the day with you. So thank you."

With that, she ducked inside and left him standing on her doorstep. After a couple heartbeats, his footsteps grew distant—fading into the background noise. Ebonheim settled into a sitting position near the middle of the floor—resting her elbows atop her knees—and rubbed her face tiredly.

The entire day had passed in the blink of an eye, yet somehow...it had gone on forever. The back-and-forth interactions and conversations with Kelzryn played in a continuous loop in her mind. His inquisitive nature and warm demeanor took on an entirely different aspect from a perspective colored by an awareness of their growing camaraderie. Every slight move—every glance—every gesture—took on a significance Ebonheim had ignored and overlooked prior.

In many ways, his attitude and behavior reminded her of a fond memory. A fleeting remembrance she couldn't quite recall, like the hazy images conjured from dreams upon waking. An almost-memory. Almost. But not quite.

"Okay." Ebonheim sat straighter and stretched her arms above her head—loosening her aching muscles. "That's enough rumination for the day. Time to get some proper sleep."

She patted the floor—unperturbed by her lack of a mattress—and lay on her back. Closing her eyes, she let out a long breath and sank deeper into the earth—and soon the dreams returned...of the altar and the arboretum...the doorway and the vault. And a glimmer of azure.