“I want you to come with me to the Festival of Lanterns tomorrow night.”

“...What?”

“You think Ecrye is a hell hole-which is kinda is but that’s not the point-so I’ve decided to show you just how wrong you are.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t really care, I hate parties.”

“I’m trying to do something nice for you!” Avarice’s face burns a deep mahogany. “Besides, I wasn’t giving you a choice.”

“Fine.”

“Now then, we need to go collect Asmode and Nihasa. They fled to my brother Alpine after The Fallen saved her.”

As expected, the city is strung with colorful paper lanterns, the ground speckled with the dusty snow of early winter. As a result, few dragons are fluttering about, likely searching for a warm nook to hibernate in. Avarice’s dragonlings slipped under the bed and hadn’t snuck out for food for nearly a week already.

Avarice had tried very hard to get me to wear some traditional Ignaisin robes but he couldn’t convince me. I feel very out of place and Ignaisins stare but I think they’re more shocked to see a Niceoan rather than my lack of participation in their celebration.

We pass a small crowd after a corner and Avarice stops, eyes lighting up. He beckons me to follow, almost grabbing my arm, and leads me to the front where a pair of twins were hopping around and flailing their lanky limbs in time with music. Dancers I realize.

The dancers begin with a series of intricate steps paired with some overly exaggerated arm flourishing. One twirled a double sided torch of green fire, the flying sparks singing their clothes, of which there was a surprising amount of skin showing considering the cold winds sweeping through the street. Gold flakes are tossed, float on the air, catching on hair and sparkling in the firelight.

Finally we arrive at a castle, drawbridge and alligator moat included. A servant invited us in and I cringed horribly at the overwhelming smell that hit me like a sky whale the second I crossed the threshold. How Avarice withstood it, only the moon herself knows.

I scanned the hall of whatever hell hole this new environment was. Too busy, but everything clashed with gilded luxury. I hated it all. And here I thought Avarice’s abode was unbearable but at least he was organized; not that this castle wasn’t clean.

To compensate, I buried my nose in the collar of my sweater, blinking away tears. It wasn't much help but it was better than nothing.

Avarice led me down equally flash corridors, Lines with statues of lion-like Ignaisins, each wearing something more outlandish than the last, desperately trying to outdo each other’s garish flamboyance. The whole place was a cry for attention.

We arrive at a fancifully carved door. Avarice pushed through, the door nearly slamming my wings behind me, and strolls to the middle of the mosaic tiled floor of the drawing room.

A familiar man is perched on a bench, painting a canvas about half as tall at the room itself. Other paintings lay propped against furniture around the room and hung on the walls, they’re quality rivals some of the best art I've seen in the galleries of Cloud Spire. I catch myself goggling and return my attention to the man who I now realize must have been the model for the last statue I'd seen in the halls leading to this room. He’s not dressed the same but he’s draped in the same fur-trimmed cloak that statue wore.

He glances up when he realizes he has a visitor and chirps, hopping down. He sets his paints aside and charges Avarice, tracking footprints of paint from the tarp on the floor on the very carpet it was laid over to protect from exactly that, his plum cloak forgotten on the way. He must be Alpine, I guess.

His eyes catch on me and he gaspes, overly dramatic. “The Niceoan! My, my what a jewel~”

“Isn’t he?” Avarice ruffled my hair. “I saw him hucking sea shells into the ocean and thought he would make the perfect addition to my collection.”

“Come then, see what i’ve been working on for the past three days.” He snatches up our wrists and hauls us toward the giant painting.

It's of a fair skinned woman, standing tall on a cliff with a raised sword which burns a furious white against the dark landscape and stormy sky. Her brown hair on the verge of black and midnight feathered wings gives away exactly who the woman is supposed to be. It’s a remarkable piece yet Alpine stands by lamenting every little flaw I fail to see.

“It's a gift for the lady herself.” Alpine adds. “She’d better like it, I worked really hard.”

“The Fallen loves and keeps everything you give her.” Avarice chuckles. “Your work is at least eighty percent of her decor.”

“It’s a shame she isn’t able to join us.”

“You’re one to talk, you’re keeping yourself locked up in here while the country celebrates the Festival.”

“Excuse me but we had to drag Morfran from his blanket nest that one time because his house was on fire. Besides, there are more important things to celebrate.” Alpine turns to me. “Did Avarice tell you our sister had her fourth kid this morning?”

“Ah,” I stutter, not expecting the attention to be thrown on me. “You must be very proud.”

“Of course we are.” Alpine purred. “Once she has her seventh, the whole of Ecrye will throw one hell of a party spanning a week, of which I will host. A day for each child.”

“Seven?”

“Yes. You’re born into the cult, darling, you can’t just join it.”

“Alright, enough spilling secrets to our neighbor from over the waves, we came here for my servants.” Avarice cut in.

“Oh fine, Sir Scales, I’ll return them to their oh-so-doting Lord.” Alpine mocked playfully, sending off one of his own servants to fetch Nihasa and Asmode.

“I hope they’ve been treating you well?”

“Asmode is an absolute delight, wild little thing, but Nihasa’s condition is still quite concerning. The poor girl hasn’t slept at all since I took them in.”

“She’s alive?” I ask, relief banishing any fear I had before. Relief that vanishes the moment Asmode and Nihasa enter the room. Nihasa is leaning heavily on Asmode, eyes sunken and bloodshot, standing on wobbly legs.

“Mhm, yeah, i’m sending you both home on medical leave until I deem you fit to return.”

Asmode perks up at that. “But I’m perfectly fine, my lord. You don’t need to send me home and how will either of us support ourselves without any income?”

Avarice waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll send you two off with enough to support you for a month at least. I’ll check in after that and we’ll go from there. As for why I'm sending you off too, Asmode. I think you already know.”

Pink-faced, Asmode gapes for a moment but nods. “Understood, my lord.”

It’s one thing to treat tiny dragons as if they were your own children, it's something entirely different to care for your employees. I lock eyes with Avarice and give him a small smile. He’s not so bad.

~~~

I brought the wine glass to my lips and nearly spat it out. “Ack! It burns.”

“Lightweight.” Avarice chuckles.

“Do you want the rest of it or not?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

I slide the glass across the table toward him.

I lean down to scoop up some snow while he’s busy draining the nearly full glass of wine I couldn’t drink. I pop my head back up just as he’s setting down the glass, our eyes lock.

Smack! I hit Avarice square in the face with a snowball. He wipes snow from his eyes, at first startled I'd dare throw snow at him. My wry smirk fades when he returns his own. Snow appears in his hand and I'm forced to share in his slightly damp suffering. With no other choice but to finish what I’d started, I continue the fight, returning fire and catching the attention of a few children who happily join in. All the while, Avarice somehow doesn’t spill a drop of the wine he so stubbornly refuses to put down while he hucks snow at me.

“We should go dancing, you seemed to enjoy the dancers from earlier.”

“I regret to decline this touching offer, I’m a terrible dancer and you were obviously more charmed by them than me.”

“I could teach you.”

“If you make me dance, I’ll stomp your toes on purpose.”

Avarice’s guffaw was short-lived, interrupted by a series of explosions in the square where the rest of the festival was still taking place. I followed him around the corner to a wall of smoke, green flames biting through the hazy plumes. A gust of wind, conjured by Avarice’s powerful wings, cleared the shroud in a matter of seconds. Unveiling a scene of relatively minor chaos.

Chasing after Ignaisins in groups of six or more and a small battalion buzzing around the rooftops, where panel-winged barbarians. Leverii.

Seeing these creatures for the first time is no treat. I’ve only heard of the abominations in books, not even the rough doodles of them could have accurately depicted these alien nightmares.

Avarice had a maliciously gleeful grin painted on his face when I cast him a dubious look. “Wanna see something cool?”

Swiping a bow and quiver from a fallen Ignaisin archer, he knocked an arrow and caught a Leverii square between the eyes.

“I’ve seen that before.”

“Oh, I’m just warming up. Watch, I don’t even have to look.” As he said this, he sent an arrow flying straight through another’s shoulder without breaking my gaze.

What he failed to notice was the stray bolt said panel-wing let loose just before dropping. Had I not dropped and dragged Avarice down with me, the metal thing surely would have embedded itself deep in the back of his skull. It zipped harmlessly through the ends of his hair instead.

“Well this is new.” Avarice mutters, glancing up at the bolt now trapped in the trunk of a tree.

“What do you mean ‘Well this is new?’ Is this not normal for you?”

“Nope and quite frankly, I’m pissed.”

I roll my eyes.

“Here.” He extracted a painted arrow hidden between the folds of his robe. “These babies are one of my favorites, made it myself even.”

He aimed at a cluster of Lerverii. The bolt went sizzling through the air, it’s fletching trailing glitter and exploded in an array of colorful spark among the group. It crackled, the sparks lighting up their delicate wings, leaving behind useless stumps of charcoal.

“Hm, for how terrible everything has gone, those aren’t so bad. I hope that wasn’t your last one.”

Avarice’s grin widens. “What kind of a fool do you take me for? Of course I have more.”

We returned home, Avarice leaning on my shoulder for balance and cackling like a madman.

“Sit, you’re only going to make it worse.”

“Oh come now, Scold me later mama, there’s still six more days in the festival and heavens be damned if a few Leverii ruin the rest of our fun.”

“You’re already a handful, and you think you can hold your liquor better than me.”

“Tonight was fun. I hope you’ll be around next year.”

I dump him into a chair, propping up the leg with the ugly arrow shaft still protruding from. “You’re further gone than I thought.”

“I am not, two bottles of wine isn’t enough to knock me out.” He nudged me with his good foot. “I meant what I said, Blue.”

“You had four.” I corrected, closing my fingers around the arrow. I look Avarice dead in the eye, giving it a hard tug. He swears but there aren’t many splinters left to pluck. “You didn’t even yelp, impressive.”

My hands were soaked by the time I’d yanked out the last of the splinters. Standing, I made for the connected washroom to fetch a damp cloth. Avarice watched me approach groggily but wary.

Ignoring the look, I kneel and dab away blood as gently as I can. The wound still oozed by the time I was done but I clapped my hands over it anyway. It’s been years since I've attempted to heal anyone, I’m not even sure if I can still do it and yet, I can feel the magic flowing from my palms to stitch Avarice’s picture back together. It makes my head spin with drowsiness, leeching whatever energy was left in my limbs.

The moment Avarice realized what i’ve just done, he lurches back, the toppled chair sending him sprawling to the floor. “You’re not supposed to do that! How are you able to do that, you shouldn’t be able to do that!”

I flinch. “Hey I didn’t have to help you. You don’t even deserve it if you’re just going to condemn me.”

“No shit. Only the gods can wield magic, mind explaining why you’re able to as well?”

“The only beings who know I’m able to do this are long dead, they gave me this power and they were killed because of it. I’ve kept this a secret for as long as I've known about it; The Ivory Maiden already wants me dead.”

“Lady Ivory might feel threatened by a fly if it buzzes too close to her, most gods are like that. Except, she has no influence here, she can’t reach you here.” I watch him haul himself to his feet using the lip of a table, then he offers up his hand. “And you need to tell The Fallen. She needs to know.”

I let him pull me up. “Alright.”

I go to leave but I'm rooted in place, my wrist still ensnared. “You’re not allowed to sleep on the floor anymore. The couch will not suffice either.”

“Whatever you’re planning- don’t.”

“You healed me, you deserve to sleep in an actual bed, at the very least.”

“I’d rather sleep in a thorn bush.”

He tightens his grip, dragging me toward the bed. I shriek, digging my heels into the velvety carpet.

“Calm down, I’m not Lezabel.” He shoved me down and collapsed across my torso, effectively pinning me down with his body weight. Already my trapped arm was beginning to lose feeling and Avarice was snoring loudly. I squirmed, eventually slipping my arm free but not much more. I’m consumed with the memory of the last time I shared a bed with another man. Avarice isn’t Evangelos though, no matter how similar they appear. Where Evan reeked of lemons, Avarice smelled of peppermint and winter pine. I think I'd prefer this. In fact, I’d rather spend the rest of my life in Alpine’s eye-stinging palace than another second with Evangelos.

This is better.