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Fabian Aramais Seacaster had never been able to sit still since the day he was born. He was crawling at five months, following housestaff around with a speed unmatched by any other toddler his age, walking at nine months and quickly getting into trouble underfoot. His father had been ceaselessly proud of the boy since he was born, for his troublemaking capacity and the coy grin that split his half-elven face in two even before teeth started to peek between his lips. Suffice to say, the ability to sit back and watch the world go by was not one on Fabian Seacaster’s near endless repertoire.
Needlessly, this was also an ability that got Fabian into endless heaps of trouble, whether it be by himself or at the hip of a close companion.
Trouble that had a human in a shirt near flousy and resplendent as his own bearing down on him with a rapier, nose inches from Fabian’s face, blades grinding together with the unpleasant screech of metal on metal as still yet more men boarded his airship.
The assailant grinned with a mouth missing more teeth than it still had, “You ain’t so tough, now are y-”
The rest of their cliché statement was cut off with a resounding bang, eyes rolling back in their head, blood frothing up at the corners of their chapped, scarred lips and body falling limp against Fabian’s sword. He grunted, kicking the still leering corpse off of his chest and sending it crashing back into a barrel, Fabian himself rolling along the guardrail that divided the helm from the middle deck.
On an airship, a crow’s nest- set traditionally at the highest point of the mizzenmast- is nigh useless, compared to the vantage point it offers on open sea. In the wide plains of the endless sky, everything is visible to the naked eye for miles, and what cloud cover obscures from the deck is obscured even from higher vantage points.
On The Hangman III, however, the crow’s nest served the unique purpose of being the perfect sniper’s roost for one Riz Gukgak, goblin detective turned pirate.
Though, he was and always would be a detective through and through.
Fabian didn’t even have to look to know that the bullet had come from Riz, as the rest of his crew were armed only with short range weapons and the occasional magic spell. The only long range fighters were Riz with his firearms, and Adaine, who had been stashed belowdecks with her arcane prowess to keep the airship from listing as the giant elemental engine crystals stationed at three separate points on the boat were attacked from all sides. The only thing keeping them aloft at the moment were those crystals, Adaine, and a hell of a lot of luck.
Fortunately, luck was something Fabian had always had as much of as the capacity to make trouble, for better or for worse.
“Fabian!” Riz’s voice echoed from above, the goblin himself swinging from rope to rope with all the dexterous prowess he’d had since their high school days, which was a lot. He seemed akin to a spider monkey among the rigging, then.
“Yes, Ball?” Fabian grinned in a sickly sort of satisfied way as his family rapier slashed through the back of another nameless man’s neck, arterial spray coating his chest in a fine mist of ruby red human blood.
“Adaine is communing with Kristen belowdecks about keeping the crystals intact-“ Riz cut off with a strained grunt as he flung himself to the deck to avoid a surely deadly slash with an assailant's dagger at Fabian’s hip. Fabian turned into the swing, rapier brandished aloft, knowing Riz would already be tucking himself into his shadow, blending in even despite the sun that beat down on them high among the clouds. He’d always had a knack for disappearing.
“What’s she have to say on the matter?” Another swing. Drop low onto his heels, shifting his center of gravity just like his mother had drilled into his head over thousands of hours under her watchful gaze, eleven eyes smeared underneath with the dark bags of a woman who hadn’t been truly awake in years.
“Elementals aren’t exactly either of their strong suits, as I’m sure you know- on your left!” Riz cocked his pistol and pulled the trigger in a single, fluid motion just as Fabian lifted his left elbow out of the way. They’d danced this way many times before, the motions as familiar to Fabian as the grooves in his sword and the scars below the patch that adorned his face. “Apparently the elementals this ship runs on are ‘faith’ elementals, or something. Run on strong emotions. Powered by strong bonds. Perfect for a pirate crewship.”
Fabian grunted, feeling Riz’s bony shoulder blades press into the small of his back as they made a conjoined pivot that would have been almost poetic, had it been in any other context. “And what are we supposed to do about that? Knit together flower crowns and sing Kumbaya in the middle of battle?”
He didn’t have to see Riz roll his eyes to know he did, exasperation clear on his voice.
“No, idiot, we have to- to strengthen our bond somehow.”
“How, exactly, do you propose we go about that?” Fabian scoffed, bowing backwards to narrowly escape a blow that would’ve sliced his father’s eyepatch clean off his face, had it been any closer. No sooner had he righted himself was the scent of fresh gunpowder and hot sparks filling his nostrils as Riz shot clean through the man’s kneecap, bringing him down just below Fabian’s eyelevel. With a single smooth swing of his rapier and a glint in his one remaining eye, the man breathed no more, Fabian’s boot planted squarely in his chest kicking the rapidly cooling corpse over the rails bracketing the deck. Riz somersaulted between the spread arch of Fabian’s legs, managing to come up with the most shit-eating grin Fabian had ever seen on the man, loading his pistol even as he locked eyes with Fabian.
“Fabian Aramais Seacaster, will you marry me?”
•••
“Watching them flirt is like watching the world’s slowest train wreck. It’s horrifying, but I can’t look away.”
Adaine rolled her eyes through the thick lenses of her wireframed coke bottle glasses, bumping Fabian’s upper arm none too gently with her sharp elbow. Fabian whined, rubbing at the spot dramatically. She peered over the top of the thick Chronomancy text she had propped up against the sturdy stainless steel napkin container, glancing across the arcade food court to where Gorgug and Zelda had their heads bent over their pizza, sharing a pair of earbuds. If one came close enough they might just hear the faint din of metal music from the tinny speakers.
“You’re just being dramatic. I, for one, think it’s rather endearing that they’re getting out of their shells and spending more time with each other in public,” Adaine sniffed, flipping another page on her book with an arcane flick of the wrist, so as not to get pizza grease on the borrowed pages.
“Why do we have to be here, though?” Fabian whined, slumped across the table, straw sticking up out of the corner of his mouth like an absurdly long and comical cigarette.
“Because we’re Gorgug’s wingmen!” FIg slapped the table in her excitement, making Kristen scramble to keep her soda from toppling over. “If we aren’t here to support him then who else’ll be?”
“I think he’d do just fine on his own….” Kristen muttered, daubing at what had spilled of her watered-down soda onto the already sticky tabletop. Riz snorted, flicking Fabian on the forehead, a single curl of silver-grey-platinum blonde hair falling loose from the deliberately messy coiff he styled it into resting against his furrowed brow.
“I think you’re just jealous you can’t get a girl,” Riz teased, swiping at the last dredges of his milkshake with cold fries. Fabian’s fries, to be exact.
Fabian grimaced, sitting upright and crossing his arms over his broad chest, letterman jacket having been shed long ago to tie around his waist during a particularly intense battle of air hockey against Kristen, “That’s the last thing I’m jealous of, Ball, and you know it.”
“You jealous of Zelda, then?” Adaine chimed in, lower half of her face hidden by her book, though she was surely grinning.
“I am not!” he spluttered, slapping his hands down against the tabletop and making it rock once again. Kristen sighed, scooping up her soda out of harm’s way and balancing it against her thighs for safekeeping.
“What’s got your silk panties in a twist then, fancy boy?” Fig teased, poking at his bicep across the too-small table with her knuckles. “Too good to hang out with us common folk, huh? Huh?”
“You know it’s not that. You’re all my friends and I care for you dearly,” he proclaimed, even if the revelation looked like it pained him slightly to admit aloud.
“Are you just jealous, then? Jealous of Zelda, maybe?” Kristen piped up.
Adaine made a displeased face, prim nose wrinkling. “You’re getting the same look on your face as when you think someone’s gay, and you make us covertly follow them around the mall for the next hour on the off chance you’ll get proof.”
“D’you just want attention, Mister Seacaster?” Riz crooned, bracing his elbows on the table and leaning so far in it would’ve been conspiratorial, had Fabian not turned away with a hot flush rising to the very tips of his pointed ears, which twitched in dismay.
“Big man on campus has a crush, huh?” Fig joined in, collapsing back in her chair with hand pressed to her brow like a swooning debutante. “Who’s the lucky guy, Mister Seacaster?”
“I’d thank you to stop!” Fabian said, face darkening further and turning as far away as his chair would allow, back nearly fully to his friends. The rest of the table collapsed into giggles, too busy to notice the way Fabian cast a glance at Riz over his shoulder, slowly joining back into the conversation.
•••
Fabian Aramais Seacaster was not a man easily shocked. He had seen many a wondrous, horrific, and downright terrifying thing in his days. He’d seen a demon born of gluttony emerge from a crystal after decades of slumber. He’d seen his father, body and spirit whittled beyond saving by battle, dying in his arms, and drove his own sword through the man’s chest to give him an honorable death. He’d seen an ancient red dragon, freed from contract and risen to terrify the land again, and defeated it.
Hell, he’d even seen his father and his undead crew turn said dragon into a hellish ship in the afterlife, stripping the red leather scales back and opening the great maw, snapping bones and sinew to create a forever living, forever undying ship among the fires of Hell itself.
But nothing, nothing, would stop his heart like Riz “The Ball” Gukgak on one knee, brandishing enchanted bullets as if they were the finest rings encrusted in diamonds, and asking Fabian for his hand in marriage.
“You know,” Fabian began, as that was the only thing he could get out around the dryness of his mouth and the sudden autopilot his brain was now running on, “if we were doing this the traditional way, you’d ask my father for my hand and trade him your finest bounty to ensure that you can provide for me.”
Riz snorted, snapping the barrel of his Arcubus back into place, “Little hard to do that when he’s in Hell and we’re about to die on an airship hundreds of miles above land, huh?”
It was Fabian’s turn to snort, spinning so that Riz was at his back and the newest wave of seemingly endless enemies was at his front, brandishing his family’s rapier, “Who says we’re about to die?”
•••
The Hangman II’s engine purred beneath Fabian, infernal elemental engine that kept the machine running spinning in an endless cycle of torment just beneath the chassis. He gripped the handlebars loosely with one hand, the other curled around the handle of a grey umbrella, rain pattering against the fabric and hissing into rivulets of steam where it hit red metal.
Master, The Hangman spoke to him, front tire resting against the curb just outside the entrance to Augefort Academy. Why do we wait out here? All your female compatriots have returned home for the day.
“I told you, that’s not how we talk about women, Hangman,” Fabian muttered, though there was little need to speak aloud to his bike. It felt nice to break the constant pitter-patter of rain, and the engine’s purr, and the way his heart raced so loud in his chest he swore anything with ears could hear it for miles.
Why are you anxious, master?
“I haven’t the faintest where you got that idea,” Fabian dismissed the motorbike’s concern clumsily, kicking the bike away from the curb and rolling towards the gates as a familiar diminutive figure rushed down the front stairs, briefcase held overhead as a shield against the rain.
“The Ball!” Fabian called out, clutching his umbrella so tightly he could’ve sworn the plastic should have creaked by now.
Riz paused, halfway between running and ducking for cover. Despite their newfound fame and glory, Riz was still a goblin, and goblins got picked on. Travelling in a pack through the halls with the rest of the Bad Kids only gave Riz a moment’s reprieve from the constant reminders.
“What do you want, Fabian?”
“What, can a man not give his friend a ride home from school in the rain?” Fabian rolled closer, forcing himself to ooze his normal confidence, even as the knees of his jeans turned dark and damp with rain where the umbrella didn’t reach.
Riz eyed the bike warily, goblin tail lashing against the ground akin to a nervous cat’s, “I thought only girls were allowed on The Hangman.”
Fabian snorted. “That’s his rule, not mine. C’mon, I know your mother doesn’t get home until late, especially not with that new promotion.”
Riz paused in his scramble up behind Fabian, squinting, “How did you know she got promoted…?”
“I listen sometimes.” A shrug. “Not everything that comes out of your mouth is annoying drivel.”
Riz groaned, sandwiching his briefcase between their torsos for safekeeping, tail wrapped loosely around Fabian’s midriff. Fabian grinned, taking that as his cue to start The Hangman up for Strongtower Luxury Apartments. He’d ridden this course a million times by now, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why his heart was racing so fast.
•••
Here they stood, on the deck of The Hangman III, back to back. A position in which they’d been a hundred, two hundred, several hundred times before, facing onslaughts of infernal or demonic or undead creatures, any number of things that wanted to eat them and rip their faces off.
Except this time, they weren’t just fighting for themselves, or for information, or for gold, whatever their gold may be.
They were fighting for the lives of their entire crew, whatever remained of them. For Adaine, who casted furiously belowdecks, working to keep them aloft. For the people they may crush, should they come crashing down hundreds of thousands of miles out of the sky, ending so many innocent lives with no more warning than a rapidly growing shadow.
Fabian braced himself, a sly grin curling across his face.
“I suppose we best start our nuptials, dearest?”
Riz grimaced, tail lashing against the floorboards between Fabian’s feet, “We should do it at the same time, to save time.”
“I don’t suppose we have anyone to officiate, either. We’ve always been quite off the books.”
“Kristen can do it later…. If there is a later.”
“There better be. We need to honeymoon, afterall.”
A snort. “Only you would be thinking of that at a time like this.”
“Guilty as charged. Now- I, Fabian Aramais Seacaster-“
“I, Riz Gukgak-“
•••
They were up at the top of the abandoned mithryl factory, all six of them, with two bottles of Elvish firewhisky and half a bottle of Dwarven bourbon.
They didn’t need to steal it, of course. The Seacasters were more than willing to have the group over had they felt the need to drink, and Gorgug’s parents had expressed that, should he ever want to, they’d rather he experiment with illicit substances at home rather than anywhere else. But stealing alcohol and finding somewhere secret to drink it, passing it around like grizzled veterans drinking away their worries even as broad, sleepy, giddy drunken smiles curled across their faces was a kind of teenage rite of passage none of them felt like passing up, especially with all the other regular teenage milestones they’d missed due to things spinning wildly out of their control.
Adaine was half asleep, having taken a few sips of Elvish firewhiskey and hiccuping herself into a giggling stupor, more relaxed and loose than any of the others had ever seen her. She reclined with her head on Kristen’s lap- Fig moved around too much to be a good pillow- and slipped in and out of consciousness as the redhead played with her tangled blond hair, weaving and unweaving it into intricate patterns again, and again, and again.
Fabian took a heady swig of Dwarven bourbon as the glass bottle was passed to him, letterman shrugged off one shoulder and knee hiked up to his chest, other leg stretched loosely before him. He swallowed thickly, moreso than because of the alcohol, turning away from what was becoming far too intimate of a scene for his comfort just a few feet to his left. The others seemed unbothered, but the others also seemed like their forms of contact with loved ones within the past few years had gone beyond sparring matches and pop quizzes at how to escape a chokehold.
Fig was attempting to make a molotov cocktail with an empty bottle and no cloth, snapping her fingers into the neck of the empty Elvish firewhiskey bottle and growling with frustration every time the flame they lit flickered out, much to Riz and Gorgug’s amusement. Gorgug was halfway to laying down on his back, braced on his elbows as he was, with Riz across the way from him splayed on his stomach not too much unlike a cat about to pounce. His goblin pupils, normally slits, were as wide as saucers.
“What’re you even doing?” Fabian slurred, though the collection of his own voice surprised even him. Fig squinted in his direction, pointing at him with the broad end of her bottle.
“Makin’ a molotov cocktail. Wanna see what happens when y’throw it in that bigass acid pit. What’re you doin’?”
“Watching you fail to make a molotov cocktail, and the rest of us fall asleep, apparently,” Fabian sighed, resting his temple against his bent knee. There were a lot of stars out tonight.
“How’re y’holdin’ yer liquor so well?” Gorgug mumbled, head cocked back far enough Fabian had to strain to hear him. He shrugged.
“Half-Elven constitution, I guess. I thought we were going to get, I dunno, turnt. Not all fall asleep.”
Fig shrugged back, “Maybe we all need to go to sleep real bad.”
“I don’t need anything,” Fabian snapped back, almost surprised at the fire in his own voice. He snatched the Dwarven bourbon from Riz’s loose grip and took another long pull, gasping for air as he came away. It felt a little like drowning, with the burn in his throat and the gasp for air, but some deep seeded, deeply buried part of him wished he were drowning for something else.
“Everyone needs som’thin’. What d’you need, Fabian?” Gorgug mused, head cocked to the side just enough that he could stare at Fabian through the white streak in his shaggy hair, lain over his eyes as it was. Fig nodded in solidarity, tapping out a rhythm with her claws against the empty glass bottle. Tink, tink, tap-tap tink.
“I don’t need anything. I’m the richest man in town. Anything I need, I have already,” Fabian all but spat back.
Riz’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared up at the seemingly infinite number of stars in the sky above the mithryl factory. Distantly, Fabian wondered if the acid deep in the pit below would reflect the moon, or if it was too thick, too viscous. He supposed he’d never know unless he jumped in.
“What do you want, then?” Fig asked, still tapping on her bottle, albeit slower. Tap. Tap. Tink-tink, tap.
“I want you to stop that infernal racket,” Fabian grumbled, pressing at his temples to quell a headache that wasn’t there. Fig laughed, loud and echoing, though it was a wonder it didn’t wake the sleeping members of their party. Gorgug had slumped forward, head resting on Fig’s thigh, snoring gently between the obtrusions of his tusks. Fig carded her lightly shaking fingers through his coarse black hair, smiling a gentle peek of a smile that was only reserved for when no one else but the other Bad Kids were around to see it.
Adaine, long having fallen prey to the clutches of a warm, drunken sleep, curled up in Kristen’s lap, who cradled her head, her own fiery red-orange-ginger locks splayed out on Adaine’s jacket where it was pillowed beneath her head.
Riz breathed so slowly Fabian was almost unsure if he’d suddenly died, drifting away in his sleep on the roof of the factory with a blanket of stars and his arms a pillow beneath his head, cap having been abandoned and exposing a messy mop of ivy green curls that trailed all the way down his jaw. A hot panic, viscous and acidic, like bile, began to rise in Fabian’s throat, till he saw the goblin’s back rise and ribs expand as he inhaled unconsciously, lain flat out on his stomach. Even in his sleep his ever moving tail swished back and forth slowly, whsking across the concrete.
Fabian’s father, though the man tried his best, had never been the best at bedtime stories and nighttime fairy tales. One he regaled Fabian with often was the story of a man who fell so deeply in love with a dryad, flowers began blooming in his lungs. Fabian felt he could understand a bit of how that man felt, now, lungs tight and chest hot and face flushed and-
Riz slept so peacefully, unknowing.
Fabian cursed himself, muttering, “Of course what I want is love.”
•••
“-take you, Riz Gukgak-”
“-take you, Fabian Aramais Seacaster-”
“-to be my husband-”
“-to be my husband-”
•••
“I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” Riz observed with the lightest note of wonder in his voice, standing beyond the apartment door he’d just wrenched open, revealing a dimly lit and none too spacious interior. Fabian shrugged, hefting his duffel bag higher onto his shoulder. It was patterned with the Owlbears team logo and dotted with miscellaneous patches, the red canvas even housing a scribble or two in permanent marker from an anonymous source (Fig.)
“I do actually enjoy spending time with you,” Fabian waved a hand dismissively, stepping into the Gukgak family apartment, a coy grin on his face. “Some of the time, at least.”
He could practically hear Riz roll his eyes at that.
Gorgug was already there, settled on the floor amongst furniture that was too small for him, trying in vain to set up his gaming console with the staticy broadcast crystal in the apartment. He muttered to himself, plugging in wires here and taking them out there, adjusting knobs and turning dials. It didn’t make a lick of sense to Fabian, really, but he seemed rather preoccupied.
The feminine counterhalf of their group, of course, had taken Gilear’s apartment hostage next door, and Fabian didn’t doubt they were already having a wonderful time. Where they’d shucked Gilear off to, though, he hadn’t any clue.
Fabian collapsed back onto the couch, vaguely careful not to break it beneath his weight, which was definitively at least twice that of either of the people who actually lived in this apartment. And, he mused, with a disdainful look at the long faded, starchy fabric of the couch cushions, it likely couldn’t take much more of a beating. He was surprised Riz’s mother- Sklonda?- had even let them have a sleepover in the first place.
“How are things with you and Zelda?” Fabian asked in way of greeting. By the way the back of Gorgug’s neck turned a darker shade of green, things must have been going well. Fabian grinned devilishly, reclining with his arms folded behind his head, watching with a kind of detached interest as Riz crouched down to help Gorgug, tail curling around his bony ankles.
“How are things with Zelda?” Riz asked, minutes later, passing a can of soda to Gorgug and another to Fabian. Gorgug fiddled with a controller, head ducked low as he clicked through the menu screen of a game Fabian hadn’t seen before.
“Fine,” Gorgug mumbled, cracking the tab on his soda can. Riz nudged the taller boy’s knee with his foot, grinning impishly.
“Have you kissed her yet?”
“What?- uh- no-“ Gorgug spluttered, spraying soda across his front and narrowly missing the broadcast crystal screen.
“You haven’t had your first kiss yet?” Fabian scoffed, sipping on his soda like it was instead a fine Elven wine, reclining back on the couch with brow raised and ankles crossed.
“And you have?” Riz shot back.
“I’ve kissed many a’ fine young woman!”
Riz grinned, curling up on the opposite end of the couch, tucking his petite goblin form in what little space was left on the cushion by Fabian’s feet. Fabian resisted the urge to kick him.
“I never said anything about kissing girls,” Riz sing-songed, taking the controller from Gorgug and balancing it on his bony knees. They were scraped and bruised from clambering into places people weren’t meant to be, hiding out of sight and melting into shadows where not even his party could see him. His sharp elbows had a similar fate. One of them had a bright yellow band-aid over a particularly nasty cut he got from climbing into an air vent.
“Kristen kissed all of us once, remember? I think that counts for something,” Gorgug had taken the other controller, scrolling through the options for a two player racing game.
“Yeah, and then Zelda’s dad kissed you, or something?”
“Aelwyn Abernant kissed me passionately at that fakey Hudol party!” Fabian interjected.
He had no idea why he was so passionate about this.
“Yeah, and then you got really creepy about it,” Riz’s tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth, which was chapped.
“Am I not allowed to fancy women?”
Riz shrugged, knees knocking together, “I don’t, but you can if you wanna. No shame in being straight, man.”
“Just makes you boring,” Gorgug added, slamming Riz’s car off the track and making him curse. Fabian couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
Fabian liked girls. He kissed Aelwyn. He thought she was hot.
But the idea of spending time with her made his stomach turn uneasily, like he’d boarded a ship for the first time and hadn’t gotten his sea legs yet.
He clutched the soda can, running a thumb over the smooth aluminum side and watching the bright, flashing colors of Gorgug and Riz chase each other around a pixelated desert track.
He wasn’t too sure of anything right now.
•••
“-to explore and adventure with-”
Fabian could hear the grin in Riz’s voice. “-to learn and grow with-”
“-to defend and protect with-” Fabian grunted out the last few words between gritted teeth, sheathing his rapier to draw the dagger he kept holstered beneath his right arm, digging the serrated blade into the wrists of a man with his hands around his throat.
“-to respect you, defend you, have your back-” Riz, back pressed flat to Fabian’s, kicked with all the ferocity of a rabbit too stubborn to die caught in a snare at another assailant, goblin growl vibrating deep into the cavity of his chest.
“-as long-” The ship listed violently to the side as Fabian continued their impromptu vows. He grunted, jamming his dagger into the hard wood of the deck, other hand fisted in Riz’s collar. The enemies fell away, scrambling against the deck as it listed near vertical, sails swaying in their binds against the masts. His shoulder burned with pain. Riz dug his claws into the deck, curls of wood coming away beneath them as he scrambled up the deck, far more nimble than Fabian even in the most dire of circumstances.
“-as long as we both may live, dammit!” Riz breathed, one hand curled around the rails and the other reaching desperately for Fabian, scrabbling at his wrist. The ship shuddered, listing again, leveling, slowly turning horizontal again. Fabian cursed, eyes stinging with tears of pain.
“What the fuck was that?” he sat up slowly, rubbing at his shoulders. Riz wrenched his dagger out of the deck, which was now clear of assailants, having been dumped over the side like so much trash. The crystals keeping the ship aloft hummed with a vibrant, new kind of energy, zipping through the sky even without aid of the sails.
Riz sat down shakily next to him, gripping the dagger that wasn’t even his like it was precious, bony fingers of both hands wound around the grip that would only ever fit one of Fabian’s. He exhaled, chest shuddering, mop of curly, ivy green hair listed to one side. There was a cut across his brow. It looked like it might scar. Fabian swiped his thumb over it.
“We match.”
Riz looked up in surprise, almost like he had forgotten Fabian was there. His fingers darted to the fresh scrape, which laid right where a stray scar from when Fabian had had his eye removed did on his own brow. “Huh? Oh, yeah.”
“So….”
“‘So’?”
“Are we like, married now, or?”
Riz snorted, then chuckled, which evolved into deep, genuine, shuddering peals of laughter, ringing across the ship like bells.
It was the most beautiful sound Fabian had ever heard.
The door to the captain’s quarters across the way creaked open slowly, a head of blond hair peeking out with arcane energy crackling at the ready. Adaine, seemingly having decided that the ship was safe enough, threw the door open and padded across the deck. She looked none the worse for wear, though much more weary, with sweat stains at her collar and hair tied messily away from her face. She grinned slowly, folding her legs beneath her to complete the exhausted trio on the deck.
“Sorry, did I hear you two got married without me?”