Silas opened the door and held it for me, and I thanked him in a mumble before I walked through it and into the Howling Wolf Tavern. I quickly scanned the room for familiar faces, finally finding who I was looking for.

A thin figure sat at the bar, clothed in light black leather armor and a hood. A belt with a number of sheaths hung from her hips. After the tavern keeper whispered some words to her, Nyx turned, her deep, dark purple face looking up at me from under her thick hood.

“I was wondering if you'd ever come,” she greeted, motioning for Silas and I to take the saved stools from beside her. Nyx's hair escaped the sides of her hood from around her face in dark wisps, and she watched me with a deep concern swirling in her black eyes.

“We didn't have plans to meet here,” I replied in defense.

“No, but your talks with your father usually end in a hefty tavern bill, so I figured I'd wait for you here.” Nyx grinned at me, before glancing over at Silas to judge his expression. “I'm paying.”

“Nonsense, I can vouch for myself,” I replied. I raised my hand at the bartender.

Nyx called to him, “Anything this woman orders is on my bill. Don't let her tell you otherwise.”

With a resigned sigh, I ordered a mug of ale before crossing my arms on the bar, banging my head onto them.

Nyx laughed heartily beside me. “I cannot wait to hear this story.”

I told Nyx the same story I'd told Silas about the conversation with my father. She listened with enthusiasm, as usual, laughing as I told her the final moments.

“Well, no shit, you told the old man off, did you?” Nyx glanced toward the bartender. “Bring us a pitcher!”

I shook my head in response to her antics before taking a few swigs of my ale.

“So is that it, then?” Nyx asked, intrigued. “Are we going on an adventure?”

“I don't know. What do you think?”

“I think it's about bloody time! I'm tired of having to live in this dump of a place. There's barely any work for me here. I have to take cuts in pay to serve the poor, and the holier-than-thou upper district wouldn't dare hire me, the racist bastards. There's coin to be made elsewhere, I'm sure of it.”

I looked to Silas, whose only concern at the moment seemed to be keeping a close eye on how much ale I was consuming.

“What about you?” I asked him.

“I'd come with you wherever you decide to go,” he replied.

“How sweet,” Nyx teased, though she cut it off at that out of respect.

“But how will we make our livelihoods?” Silas pondered aloud.

“I have enough coin to last the three of us for a few years as it is,” I admitted, my voice low as a precaution against any potential thieves. “Though some people can make a fine living off of being a mercenary, and they don't come from the same background I do. We'll be able to do it. The three of us.”

“We have to decide where to go,” Silas mused. “We can't leave the city without any direction or clue as to where we're going.”

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“Why not?” Nyx retorted, before taking another swig of ale.

“Because that would be unwise,” he replied evenly.

“Does dear brother know about all this?” Nyx asked, a quick change of subject, but a relevant question.

My thoughts went to Terran, and my stomach soured. “He knows I am unhappy here with father's direction. He has advised me against disobeying him multiple times. His main concern is my...” I trailed off, staring at the swirling gold of the ale below me. “...my lifespan.”

“He would rather you stayed here and wasted your life being unhappy than to leave and find happiness in what little time you may have? Smart one, that.” Nyx ran one dark finger around the lip of her mug.

“He knows my life will be shorter if I use the powers I have, that's all.”

“Yes, but you have them. You are the first in history to have such powers, as far as we know. Live a little, right?”

I'd often thought the same. I had come to terms with the death sentence of being a mage long ago, before I'd even known I was more skilled than most. Still, we were talking about how long I had to live, here. Part of me was still uncomfortable with that. I was only twenty-one and still waiting for life to begin. Looking over to Silas, I found him avoiding my gaze. Our vastly different potential lifespans had been the source of much turmoil for us.

“So, when are we leaving?” Nyx asked, once I'd said nothing. I knew she was eager to leave Sera. Much of the pretentious, mostly human populace were judgmental against dark elves, given that they were a rare sight in the city, or above ground at all. On top of that, just the appearance of an Alderi could be frightening; they were known for their murderous ways. If it weren't for her being friends with me, I was sure Nyx would have left years ago.

“I don't know. Give me a few days, maybe a few weeks. I need to talk to Bjorn about it. See if he has ideas for us. And to...say goodbye.” Saying goodbye to those I loved who would be staying here would be the hardest part about leaving, but I knew Sera was not where my future was. I'd been flirting with the idea of leaving ever since I had figured long ago my father wasn't going to take my skills seriously. I should have left years ago, actually. Most mages began fieldwork at eighteen. Here I was, three years past, with a shorter lifespan and still no battle experience. I was flabbergasted as to why he was so afraid to put my skills to the test.

“Ugh. Please make it closer to a few days than a few weeks,” she mused teasingly, before ordering another pitcher of ale.

It was a plan we finally decided on. After quite a few more mugs of ale and hours of talking, the daylight faded outside and turned to darkness. The tavern held a golden glow from the various candles and the fireplace, and a lute player came into the tavern, setting up a seat in the corner of the room, a small cloth pouch on the ground at his feet for tips. He began to play his instrument, and the music soon swirled lovingly with the effects of the ale in my head.

“All right, I think you need to be leaving,” Nyx said to me, a few hours after the darkness had fallen outside. “You look like you're ready to pass out.”

“It's been a long day,” I replied.

“Are we going back to the university?” Silas asked from beside me.

“I'd rather not.”

He nodded. “I thought you'd say that. Let's get a room here, assuming they have a vacancy.”

Nyx lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. Silas called the tavern keeper over, paying him for one room for the night. Nyx waved us off with a friendly goodbye.

Silas held my arm as he led me up the stairs to the tavern's second floor, the room key in his hand.

I tugged at his hand. “I can walk,” I protested.

He kept his grip. “You've had one too many mugs of ale.”

“Pfft.” Despite the disagreement, I didn't try to pull away again. Silas unlocked the door before us, leading me within a room that smelled as if it hadn't been cleaned for weeks.

“Well,” Silas commented matter-of-factly, as was his personality, “That stench is quite interesting.”

I laughed louder than I should have at the statement. “How eloquently put,” I said, collapsing onto the bed without a care.

Silas closed the door behind him, turning to face me. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes portraying words his mouth resisted saying.

“Maybe I should ask for a second room,” he suggested, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Oh, Silas,” I said, rolling a bit on the bed so that it made enough room for him on the other side. “I expect nothing more than a good night's sleep. Let the past be the past.”

“It wouldn't be a problem. I'd pay for it out of my own pocket. I simply figured you'd want to save the money.”

“Stop your bickering,” I replied, readjusting to be under the covers, lying on my side. “I have respected your wishes for over a year, haven't I? All I want is sleep. Promise.”

Watching as my eyes fluttered close from losing their battle with sleep, he replied, “As you say.”