Archive of Our Own

“Adaaaiiinneee!” Fig whined, practically all the way up the stairs to the wizard’s tower. The wizard in question was sitting at her desk, looking over at the door and making a face when she arrived.

“What?”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Fig let herself in, striding right over to Adaine’s desk. Instead of leaning over it, she instead chose to drape herself over her friend’s shoulders and perch her chin on the crown of Adaine’s head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m working on an essay for Advanced Techniques in Evocation,” she explained, gesturing to the laptop, multiple text- and notebooks, colored pens, and emotional support frog strewn about before her. “Where else would I be?” 

Fig made a noise, somewhere between a whine and a groan. After four years of (best) friendship, Fig knew well now that when Adaine was working on an essay or other project for class, she did not tend to stop until she was done. And that she had a very high standard for what she considered ‘done.’ And that reaching that standard could take all day or more. Fig couldn’t wait that long. “I dunno, library? Listen, you can finish that later, I need you for something.”

“What is it?” Adaine asked, maneuvering around Fig to page through her notes and type something on her computer.

“I need help with something?” Fig tried.

“Why don’t you ask Aelwyn?” Adaine gestured vaguely with one hand. 

“Aelwyn?” Fig stood up, confused.

“Hello, Fig.” 

The tiefling turned around, surprised to look up and see the elder Abernant sister lounging on the top bunk with a stack of books and stuffed animals. 

“Oh, shit. Uh, hey, Aelwyn. I didn’t know you were home this weekend,” Fig said, feeling a little awkward that she’d totally failed to see her up there.

“We have a reading week before exams,” Aelwyn explained, holding up one of the open textbooks before her. With her messy bun, tank top, pajama pants, and relaxed attitude, she looked a hundred and ten times more like the (stressed, but content) college student she now was and not the broken teenage girl they once found her to be. 

“Oh, so it’s like a study date,” Fig said. She turned back to Adaine. “Well, I need Adaine for this, so you don’t have to bother getting up.”

Adaine made a noise. “Fig, I have to--”

“--finish this essay, blah blah, I know,” Fig interrupted. “It’ll be here when we get back, c’mon.” She was running the mental calculations in her head already trying to figure out what would convince her best friend to pry herself from her homework for once, when best to show her hand. “Look, I wanted it to be a surprise, but I wanted to hang for my birthday today.”

Her calculations proved correct; Adaine’s hands hovered without moving over her keyboard, and she blinked and glanced away and behind at Fig. “I thought that was tomorrow?” Fig shrugged. Behind her, Aelwyn opened her mouth to say something, and Adaine quickly cut her off before she could. “No jokes! It’s never funny!” 

“The greatest diviner of the elven people, everyone--” Aelwyn snickered regardless. Adaine’s face reddened. Fig couldn’t help but smirk, but hit Aelwyn with a Silence spell anyway. Aelwyn easily dispelled it a moment later.

“Anyway,” Fig continued, ignoring the dirty look Aelwyn shot her way. “C’mon. You only turn eighteen once, and I wanna have fun.” She put her hands on Adaine’s shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. 

“Well…” Adaine trailed off. Fig could practically see the tug-of-war playing out in her head between finishing her essay and partying with her. 

“For me?” Fig gave her her best puppy dog eyes.

Adaine sighed. She turned back to her desk and shut her laptop. “Fine, just for you.”

Fig grinned and squeezed her shoulders again, a little tighter this time. “Great! Let’s go!” she exclaimed, tugging her friend to the door as she stood. 

“Let me get changed first, gods,” Adaine protested. “I should wear something nicer for a party--”

“Nooo, no, there’s no time, we gotta meet Ayda, you look fine, babe, let’s go!” Fig countered, still trying to pull Adaine away from her desk. Adaine shot some kind of look up to her sister on the top bunk, who smiled and shrugged in response.

“You’re fine, little sister. Go have fun.” Aelwyn waved them off. 

“Okay, okay,” Adaine relented. She struggled against Fig’s tugging only enough to grab the jacket from the back of her chair, the backpack from the ground, and the frog from her desk. Then she allowed Fig to gleefully pull her out the door.

Fig practically dragged Adaine down the stairs of the wizard’s tower and through the third-floor hall.

“Gods, someone’s in a rush,” Adainen commented, a little breathless. “Would it kill you to slow down a bit?”

“Yes,” Fig answered simply, grinning.

“Might kill us if we don’t,” Adaine muttered, being yanked forward and nearly tripping over her own feet and knocking the both of them down. “Where are we going?”  

“Right here,” Fig answered, abruptly coming to a stop and gesturing grandly to a closet door. A bit of paper stuck on the door scratchily labeled it ‘Ayda’s Room.’ “Ta-da!”

Adaine made a face. “We’re not getting the others at all? Are they somehow meeting us there?”

Fig produced a little bronze key from her pocket and unlocked the handle to the closet door. “The guys are having a boys’ day out today and Kristen’s busy with church stuff, so it’s just us for now.”

“Oh,” Adaine replied. Part of her was slightly disappointed, but another part of her or two was not. “Okay.”

The latch clicked and Fig turned the handle, pulling the door open. Instead of a linen closet full of folded sheets and blankets, behind the door was a comfortable and extremely well-organized chamber. Books neatly lined shelves against the walls. A large hammock strung between two ship masts repurposed as building supports sat empty off to one side. On the opposite side of the room there was a large and respectably-carved wooden desk covered in scrolls, pens and inkwells, and a fishbowl containing one very fancy tropical fish. The room was lit entirely by small candles or glass-cased lanterns placed strategically about, and of course by the natural bright orange glow emitted by the half-phoenix’s fiery hair and wings, who now looked up from her scrolls seated at the desk at the sound of the closet door opening. She smiled.

“Figueroth Faeth and Adaine Abernant, my two best friends,” Ayda greeted, standing. “Please, come in.”

Fig and Adaine took the invitation and stepped inside, Fig pulling and locking the door shut behind them. “‘Sup, babe!” Fig answered, grinning and coming quickly over for a hug once she’d pocketed the key again.

“It’s good to see you again, Ayda,” Adaine followed, accepting a (less forceful) hug from Ayda herself once Fig had been pried off her girlfriend. 

“Yes, it’s very good to see you too. You don’t visit me on Leviathan very often anymore,” Ayda pointed out. Though it wasn’t in any way a pointed statement, Adaine felt a little sheepish. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “You know -- well, I guess you don’t really know how it is -- but I’m just so busy with senior year and all my Oracle stuff…” 

Ayda nodded understandingly. “I see. Well I’m very glad you could join us today for Fig’s birthday festivities. I have notified my friend Garthy O’Brien that we would be paying them a visit today, however I would certainly be interested in hearing about your senior year and Oracular studies if you would like to share them with me.”

Adaine lit back up. “Oh yes, I’d love to!”

“Let’s talk on the way, yeah?” Fig interjected, nodding to the room’s main door.

“Right, time is of the essence. I shall lead the way.” Ayda’s talons clicked lightly on the old and scuffed wooden floorboards as she crossed the room and pulled open the door, leading to a balcony overlooking the observatory of the main library. Fig and Adaine followed her out; she closed the door behind them, then wrapped an arm around each of them and flew them down to ground level before heading to the front library. “What classes are you taking this year, Adaine?” she asked as they walked. 

Adaine walked beside her, talking animatedly and gesturing with her hands as she explained. Fig trailed just behind them, keeping her hands in her pockets and a content smile on her face. “I got into this great elective called Advanced Techniques in Evocation this term…”

“Hello, Gathy,” Ayda chirped when they arrived at their destination. 

“Well, well, well! To what do I owe the fine pleasure of welcoming you lovely ladies back to the Gold Gardens today?” Garthy smiled and held out their arms as the three strode in through the campus’ main entrance. The girls came over as they beckoned them over to their owner’s table, seats covered in plush cushions. “Haven’t seen you lot ‘round here in a second, have we?” 

“It’s my birthday, bitch!” Fig grinned ear-to-ear.

“Oh, my goodness! Well, happy birthday, darling, what’s the number this year?”

“Eighteen,” Adaine filled in helpfully.

“Eighteen? Good lord, you’re all grown up now, aren’t you?” 

“Close enough,” Fig answered, somehow grinning wider. Adaine made a face, making her and Garthy laugh. 

“Garthy, were you able to fill the order I gave you?” Ayda asked, ever on-task. 

They sat up from their reclined position and snapped to grab a waiter’s attention. “Of course, lovey. Go and grab that from the kitchen now, yeah? Thanks mate,” they instructed. The waiter nodded and walked off.

“What did you…?” Fig began to ask, eyeing the half-phoenix with amused suspicion.

“Ah-ah,” Garthy interrupted, holding up a finger. “We wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, now would we? Have a seat,” they gestured to the cushions around their table. Fig eyed them and her companions again before sitting down. 

A moment or two later, the waiter returned with a platter full of drinks and a small but elegantly decorated cake, a single lit candle stuck in the middle. He brought them over and set each down on the table, a drink for each person and the cake in the middle. Ayda slid it in front of Fig, smiling. 

“You didn’t,” Fig said, delighted.

“I did. I helped Garthy find a Solesian cookbook in the library’s archives for the recipe,” Ayda responded.

“Cake’s not a big thing here on Leviathan,” Garthy explained, swirling their drink around in its cup. “Birthday parties and the like is more of a Solesian custom. But I think we were able to do you some justice here. Go on, darling.” They gestured to the candle. “I believe you do the honors?”

“Make a wish first,” Adaine whispered, nudging Fig at her side. 

Under the table, Fig found Adaine’s hand with one of her own and Ayda’s hand with her other and gave them both a squeeze, then leaned forward and blew out the candle. Garthy gave a very light cheer and a polite clap, which the Oracle and the librarian both joined in on. 

“What did you wish for?” Ayda asked as Garthy slid the cake away and cut neat slices for each of them. Fig stole the candle as they did so and stuck the bottom end in her mouth, licking off the frosting.

“You’re not supposed to say,” Adaine filled in from Fig’s other side. “Otherwise it won’t come true.”

Fig leaned on Adaine. “She’s right, sorry babe.”

“I see. It is a ritual spell of some kind?” Ayda asked.

“I don’t think it’s really magic,” Adaine answered, making a face. 

“Just kind of Solesian custom,” Fig continued, waving the candle around like a cigarette between her fingers. 

“A superstition?” Ayda said. Adaine and Fig shrugged.

“I guess so, yeah.”

“Fascinating.”

“Well,” Garthy spoke up, siding over a piece of cake to each girl, and one for themself. “Tuck in and enjoy.” They also slid over the drinks, and held up their own for a toast.

“To Fig,” Ayda said, raising her cup.

“Aye aye,” Garthy agreed, raising theirs as well. 

Adaine and Fig joined, and they all clinked their cups together. Each brought their cup to their lips and took a drink after, save for Adaine, who gave hers a sniff first, scrunching up her nose. She nudged Fig again in the side.

“Hm?” Fig lowered her cup slightly.

“These are alcoholic,” Adaine whispered. 

“Cool,” Fig responded, moving to sip again.

“You’re not twenty-one yet,” Adaine whispered again.

Fig nudged her back. “We’ve had drinks before, it’s fine. Right, Garthy?” She looked over at their host, who looked up from the piece of cake they were working on. Adaine looked over as well, though distinctly more embarrassed.

Garthy gestured loosely with their fork. “She’s eighteen, she’s an adult now, darling, she can do whatever she likes.”

“We’re not in Solace right now,” Fig said, grinning and nudging Adaine again. “Had to come all the way out to Leviathan for my first legal drink today, y’know?”

“Well, ‘legal’ isn’t precisely accurate,” Garthy corrected lightly. 

“It is a dirty pirate city, we do not exactly have very strict rules on the use of intoxicating substances here,” Ayda chimed in.

“Right,” Garthy nodded. “But after your first little visit ‘round here a few years back, I did have to put down a little rule against lettin’ minors drink in the Gold Gardens.” Fig snorted. “But since you ladies are of age, please drink away.”

“I’m not,” Adaine said, setting her drink down on the table and sliding it away slightly.

Garthy blinked. “You’re not?”

Adaine shook her head. Fig piped up, saying through a mouthful of cake, “Her birthday’s in the spring.”

“I’m also just not interested,” Adaine added, making a face. She’d had half a beer before and doesn’t particularly want another right now, thank you.

Garthy lightly held their hands up and nodded understandingly. “Not a problem at all, darling.” They looked aside and caught the attention of the waiter and snapped their fingers. The waiter promptly came over, took the drink away, and returned a minute later with a different glass, some kind of fizzy mocktail with red syrup and a cherry. Adaine smiled and thanked the waiter as he set it down on the table, and she joined the rest of the table in their imbibing. 

“So, tell me, lovey,” Garthy began, a few minutes later as they enjoyed their cake, drinks, and chatter. “What’s in store for today? I can only assume you’ve come to the Gold Gardens to celebrate in the best ways possible, which,” they added, winking, “I can assure you, you’ve made the right choice in doing.”

“I wanna do all the cool, fun shit that’s illegal in Solace until you’re an adult,” Fig answered with a laugh. “Like drinking and smoking and gambling.”

“You literally already do two of those three things,” Adaine snorted. “Regularly.”

Fig snickered. “Fine, then, I wanna gamble. You got a casino somewhere in here, Garthy?” 

“Darling, this is the Gold Gardens,” they answered, holding out their hands. “Of course we have a casino.” As Fig shoved another forkful of cake into her mouth and smirked at Adaine, they held up a finger and continued. “But, I do have to mention one thing before you run off, ladies.” 

“What’s that?” Adaine asked. 

Garthy turned their wrist down and swept their finger to point at each of the girls in turn. “You’re all spellcasters, yeah? No magic’s allowed in the casino.”

“Oh,” Adaine said. She and Ayda shared a brief frown. “Not even like a Message cantrip or a Comprehend Languages?”

Garthy shook their head. “Nope. Sorry, loves.” 

“Aw, you don’t seriously think we’re going to cheat, do you?” Fig asked, leaning on the table and batting her eyes, as if her faux innocence would convince anymore.

“No, of course not, darling!” Garthy smiled, easily seeing through her puppy dog eyes. Fig sat back up and snickered. “But the other guests certainly would. It’s still a pirate city, after all.”

“Pirates do like to gamble.” Ayda stroked her chin thoughtfully. “And they hate cheaters.”

“And I hate a fight on my campus,” Garthy continued, once again wiggling their finger at the girls for emphasis. “So do please try to keep the casting to a minimum, yeah?”

“Of course,” Ayda agreed. Adaine nodded her agreement as well, shooting a quick look to Fig.

“Fine,” Fig sighed dramatically. “I guess we can still have fun.” She could only pretend to hold her pout for another second or two before the table erupted into giggling again. 

“Splendid. Well,” Garthy said, tapping on the table and standing up. “I have some business to attend to. Casino’s down that way,” they pointed across the bar and through a door to a moodily-lit room. “You ladies feel free to take your time and enjoy yourselves, yeah? Happy birthday, lovey.” With that, they nodded goodbye and walked off.

After their cake and drinks were thoroughly enjoyed, the girls headed off to the casino. Flickering flames in colored lamps cast an intoxicating atmosphere over the dark room, thrumming with noise and energy from the people surrounding the various tables that dotted the room. A dealer could be easily identified at each table, all sharply dressed in the same sleek Gold Gardens uniform (complete with snazzy waistcoat and golden buttons), and keeping concentration on Detect Magic spells that neither wizard needed any arcana checks to clock. The others in the room were mostly pirates of various races and creeds, as well as some nicer-dressed members of Leviathan’s cultural elite, tourists, and the odd waiter weaving their way through the crowds here and there holding aloft trays of drinks. 

“Wow,” Adaine said quietly as they hovered near the entrance.

“Cool,” Fig agreed, nodding, impressed and excited.

“Fascinating,” said Ayda. “A little overwhelming.”

Fig looked up to the half-phoenix, took her hand, gave it a little squeeze. “You good, babe?”

“What? Yes, I’m fine. This is good.” Ayda reassured her, then swept her hawkish eye over the casino again. “Um. I don’t know where we’re supposed to start. Is there a plan? Do you have a plan?”

Fig shrugged. “I thought we’d just go around and try shit out,” she answered, beginning to amble through the hall and over to some of the tables. Ayda and Adaine trailed behind.

“Do you know how to play any of these games?” Adaine asked, making a face as they passed a table where some rowdy pirates threw up both cheers and groans as they threw down handfuls of cards onto a table. 

“Nope,” Fig answered.

“Great.” Adaine rolled her eyes. “Ayda?”

“I’m certain I’ve read the rules to several classic betting and casino games in the Compass Points in a rulebook at some point,” Ayda answered, peering around. “But I can’t say I’ve ever played before myself.”

“I’ve seen people play poker in movies and stuff before,” Fig said, as if that would assure her companions. “It’s all about bluffing and being charismatic. So,” She whirled around, pointing a thumb to her chest and giving her friends a wink and a smirk. “We’re in great company!”

“I think it’s also about knowing the rules,” Adaine retorted.

“Luck and probability are usually also important factors,” Ayda pointed out. “Gambling as a practice relies on chance and attempting to predict the unpredictable.”

“Well,” Fig said, gesturing enthusiastically to the two diviners before her. “Then we’re really in luck.” Adaine and Ayda shared a glance with each other. “C’mon, enough talking, let’s play something!” Fig inclined her head towards a table and picked up the pace.

The table she’d picked and approached (more or less at random) had a sparse population of two or three other patrons and the dealer playing some game of cards. Fig leaned on the table’s edge and watched as the players peered surreptitiously at their cards and placed chips down for bets. Adaine and Ayda caught up and joined her as they all flipped their cards over and groaned, the dealer sweeping away all the chips on the table.

“What’s this?” Adaine asked. 

“Red Waste hold ‘em,” the dealer answered casually, not looking up at them. He was a handsome and well-groomed halfling, standing on some kind of stool to be tall enough to reach across the table again and collect the cards. He finally looked up at the girls as he shuffled the deck, employing some fancy sleight-of-hand tricks like it was nothing. “You buying in?”

“Um,” Adaine answered, feeling a wave of nerves. 

“Hell yeah,” Fig said. She produced a few gold pieces and flicked them onto the table. The dealer squinted. 

“Rookies?” he asked. Fig nodded. He raised his eyebrows and swept the gold pieces away. “Just place ‘em on the table next time,” he instructed, producing a small stack of colored chips and setting them in front of Fig. “You know how to play?”

“Sure,” Fig grinned. Adaine elbowed her lightly in the side.

“You definitely don’t,” she hissed. Fig squirmed and giggled.

“I would also like to learn,” Ayda announced, setting a few of her own coins down as well. The dealer exchanged them for chips as well, then eyed Adaine. 

“And you, miss?” he asked.

“Oh, no thank you,” Adaine said nervously. “I’ll just watch for now.”

The dealer shuffled the deck one last time for good measure. “Alright. Aim of the game’s to get the best hand with the ones you’ve got and the ones in the middle. Twos low, aces high. Best hands go royal flush, straight flush, four of a kind, full house, flush, straight, three of a kind, two pair, pair, and high card,” he rattled off like it was obvious, second-nature. “Got it?”

Fig nodded, but Adaine could see through her confusion through false confidence. Ayda, meanwhile, had a set and attentive look in her eye.

“I understand,” she confirmed. The dealer finished shuffling and began to divvy out two cards to each player.

“Here’s your hand. Keep ‘em face-down. Place starting bets before you peek at ‘em.” The other players at the table seemed relieved to get back to the actual game and began placing their opening bets; Ayda and Fig followed suit. Next, he laid out three cards face-up in the middle. The other players began to bet again. “You can call to match the bet, raise to go higher, or fold to quit.” Ayda and Fig once again matched the bet. The dealer revealed another card in the middle. Another round of betting passed (two of the other players folded) and a final card was revealed. “Now show your hand,” the dealer instructed. He, the pair of girls, and the last player all revealed their hands. Fig blinked, not fully understanding what all the cards meant. The dealer clicked his tongue and gathered the chips from the betting pot and slid them over to Ayda. “Flush. Nice job,” he congratulated her lightly. 

“Hell yeah, babe!” Fig smiled and nudged her. The other players at the table grumbled something about beginner’s luck.

“How exciting,” Ayda commented, taking her (admittedly modest) new winnings and arranging them in neat stacks before her. “I think I can see why people enjoy this now.”

Fig slapped another of her own chips down in the center and shot a challenging grin around the table. “Let’s go.”

They stuck around and played for a while more. Fig absolutely reveled in it; she wasn’t good by most definitions, but she was fantastic at bluffing. All that bardic charisma of hers was quite literally paying off. As for Ayda, she struggled most with the deceptive elements of the game, but made up for it in being wildly good at strategy and extremely difficult to read. Adaine joined in for a few hands (Fig spotted her the gold, citing that she is “a rockstar, bitch” and never really strapped for cash) but backed out fairly quickly, finding the game stressful and difficult to play even an encouraging, inspiring wink from Fig.

“You can wander off and play something else if you want,” Fig offered in between rounds. “We’ll come find you when we’re done? You can just, like, holler if anyone tries to kidnap you again or something before then.”

Adaine chuckled, and, though reluctant to leave her friends, took the offer to wander away from the poker table and find something else to amuse her. Blackjack seemed to have the same issues for her as poker, and roulette was boring, involving absolutely no skill or strategy whatsoever. (“It’s just pure luck,” she complained to Ayda and Fig later. “You don’t do anything, you just stand there and lose money.”) She eventually wound up at a table playing a dice game, watched a round or two, then bought in to try it out herself.

After a while of playing, with Fig and Ayda having won a grand total of about ten percent more than what they’d lost, they cashed out and left the poker table to wander themselves. They spent a little time playing blackjack and entirely passing by the roulette table (“You’re right,” Ayda later agreed with Adaine. “It seems like a foolish waste of money to bet on any single number.”) (“C’mon, just one round,” Fig had protested on their way out of the casino later, being denied and dragged out by her companions.) But they eventually found their familiar fair-haired friend focused on a game table near the back of the room. 

“Hello, Adaine,” Ayda greeted as they approached. Adaine looked back to see them as she placed a pair of chips down on the table.

“Hey,” she returned. “How much did you lose?” She asked, smirking and eyeing Fig.  

Fig snorted. “Oh, ye of little faith. What are you playing?”

“Craps,” Adaine answered. One of the other players threw a pair of dice across the table, to which she nodded and received a handful of chips from her successful bet from the dealer, a smoky-looking air genasi. 

“Craps?” Fig snorted again, way too amused. “Where’d that originate? Poop city?” Adaine gave her the stink eye.

“I believe it began as a mainland game,” Ayda said, trying to be helpful, not quite finding the humor in it. 

“It definitely exists in Solace,” Adaine continued. “There’s a lot of accounts of gangsters playing floating games to hide from cops back when Bastion City used to be more conservative and gambling was illegal.”

“What? That’s metal,” Fig commented. “How d’you know that?”

“I actually paid attention in history classes in middle school,” Adaine laughed as the next person at the table threw the dice. 

“Okay, little miss teacher’s pet,” Fig teased, sticking out her tongue. “We didn’t all go to Hudol.”

“I highly doubt it never came up at Oakshield. The Helioic Council and Prohibition Era was a pretty big d--”

“We’re not here for a history lesson, we’re here to gamble,” Fig interrupted, flapping her hand insistently. Adaine turned back to squint at her, then noticed the slight look of disappointment on Ayda’s face. “How do you play?”

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Adaine offered to Ayda, who lit back up again, clearly pleased at the prospect of learning new knowledge. Turning back to the table, Adaine fiddled with her stack of chips as the dealer moved a button around the table and the dice were thrown again. “So when you start a round, you throw the dice and bet on what the roll will be. That’s the come-out roll.” She explained now to the both of them. “Betting pass on the first roll will be a win on a seven or eleven and a loss on two, three, or twelve. If it’s another number, then it switches to a point round, and you keep rolling, and you can bet on what the next rolls will be before a seven is rolled again--”

“Sol’s son,” Fig huffed dramatically. The game continued as Adaine explained, and Fig’s head spun watching the dice fly around, the chips be rearranged, and the dealer skillfully manipulating objects on the table. Even just the layout of the table with all its numbers and words was confusing to her. “This shit is complicated.”

“Sorry,” Adaine apologized, looking sheepish again. “It’s really -- you pick it up pretty quick once you start playing.”

“Dope,” Fig grinned and pulled out some gold pieces. “I’m in.” She leaned over to slap them down on the table, but Adaine held out an arm to block her.

“Ah,” she interrupted. “You have to wait ‘til the round is over.” She pointed to the button on the dealer’s side of the table, reading “ON.” 

Fig whined. “How long will that be?”

Adaine eyed the player currently shaking the dice in his hand. “If we’re lucky, then--” He threw. The dice skipped across the table, bounced into the far wall, and came up seven. He groaned; Adaine grinned. “Right now.” While his chips were confiscated as a loss by the dealer, Adaine’s were returned in an impressive number.

“Woah,” Fig admired. “How’d you do that?”

Adaine scooped up her chips and began rearranging them in front of her. “I bet on one of those,” she pointed to an array of labels in the middle of the table. “They’re for specific rolls. They have low odds of turning up, but pay out really well.”

“How did you know it would turn up that time?” Ayda asked.

Adaine shrugged. “I just had a feeling?”

“That’s awesome,” Fig said. Now the dealer had flipped the button over to read “OFF” and she slapped her coins down on the table. The dealer eyed her, swept the coins away, and counted out and returned to her an equivalent amount of chips. Then, she pushed the dice over. “I get to throw now?” Fig asked. The dealer nodded. 

“The dice pass clockwise,” Adaine explained quietly. Fig had sandwiched her place inbetween the last patron to roll on her left and Adaine on her right (Ayda hovered behind them to watch). “Roll with one hand, make sure you hit the back wall with at least one of the dice.”

Fig nodded, picking up and feeling the light weight of the two dice in her hand. Shaking them slightly, she leaned over and asked Adaine quietly, “What should I bet on?”

Adaine considered this for a beat. “Pass,” she answered, placing her own chips on a section of the table labeled accordingly. Fig did the same, then tossed the dice. They skipped across the table, bounced off the back wall, and turned up eleven. Adaine grinned and nudged Fig, who beamed as the dealer returned the dice and their winnings to her. 

“Just like that?” She asked.

“Just like that,” Adaine confirmed. 

Fig swiped the dice back up and shook them in her hand, smirking determinedly. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

After another several rounds, they got into the swing of the game. Adaine, as it turned out, was really, really good at craps. Uncannily good. Good enough to make some very daring bets (or for Fig to make them for her) and to almost always have them pay out. Good enough to piss off a few of their fellow players, tired of losing their gold and beginning to suspect the girls of cheating.

“No way you’ll turn up a seven,” an irate-looking pirate growled across the table at them as Adaine placed a bet down and Fig shook the dice in her hand. This was her fifth roll in a row without losing and passing them on, the fifth roll in a row they’d bet on a pass and come up successful. “There’s no way in hell.”

“Statistically, there’s a 16.67% chance that Fig will roll a seven--” Ayda began.

“Shut yer mouth, birdbrain,” the pirate cut her off. Ayda looked shocked, then offended. “There’s no way. Not five in a row.”

“Gambler’s fallacy,” Ayda cited, narrowing her eyes at the pirate. “Believing that previous rolls have any influence on future ones.”

The pirate growled and slapped his chips down on the don’t pass line anyway, glaring at the girls as if daring them to roll a seven again, so help them gods.

“Hey, Adaine,” Fig said quietly. Adaine glanced sideways at her friend, a little unnerved by the pirate’s barely-contained aggression. “What do you think?”

“What do you mean, what do I think?” Adaine answered, also quiet. “I don’t control the dice.”

Fig giggled. “You think it’ll be a seven again?” 

Adaine eyed the table, and the pirate glaring at them. 

“Get on with it,” he growled.

She bit her lip for a second, then gently leaned forward and placed a bet in the middle of the table. “Let’s see.”

“Here.” Fig nudged Adaine gently in the side and opened her hand, holding the dice up to her. “Gimme a little luck?”

Adaine gave her a look and complied, leaning down and blowing a puff of air over the dice. Fig smirked and closed her fingers around them again. She rattled them in her hand and tossed. They bounced along the table and off the wall, miraculously turning up a twelve. 

“Woah!” she exclaimed, not even caring that she’d lost her pass bet. Adaine had in fact bet on this exact roll, and just won big (again). “What are the odds?”

“One in thirty six,” Ayda answered, quickly doing the math in her head. “Or a 2.78% chance.”

“God damn, girl!” Fig clapped Adaine on the back. 

The pirate, however, was none too pleased, despite technically winning on the roll too. “That does it,” he spat at them, leaning forward over the table and lashing out in their direction. 

“Sir,” the dealer warned. She blocked him from being able to reach them, but Adaine instinctively drew back and reached a hand towards her spellbook anyway. 

“They’s cheaters, they are,” the pirate continued to growl and swipe at them. 

“Hey, we aren’t cheating,” Fig protested, squinting at him. “They’re the same fuckin’ dice you’ve been rolling, we haven’t done anything!”

“They’s a couple of witches, they are!”  

“We’re not witches,” Adaine responded with slight disgust. 

“We’re wizards,” Ayda corrected. “And Fig is a bard. Just a bard,” she added quickly.

“Oh, but they’re magic, alright! They’s castin’ magic to change the rolls!” He struggled to reach forward once again and the dealer forcefully held him back.

“Sir, they haven’t used any magic at the table.” The dealer said with a remarkably calm air, her eyes still faintly glowing with that ritual Detect Magic spell. She seemed remarkably calm, merely inconvenienced, used to having to deal with rowdy pirates in the casino like this on a frequent basis. “If you insist on trying to start a fight, you will be escorted out of the Gold Gardens,” she continued as the pirate still attempted to push past her and swipe at the girls. 

“That’s fine,” Adaine said quickly, nervously. “I think we’re done here anyway. Can we cash out?”

Placated, if still very grumpy, the pirate stuck to glaring at them from his side of the table as the dealer nodded, letting him go and proceeding to count up Fig’s and Adaine’s stacks of chips and exchange them for their equivalent gold. “Here you are,” she said, quite nonchalant for someone who both subdued a very angry pirate and handed a frankly ridiculous amount of money off to a teenager. “Thanks for playing. Enjoy the rest of your time at the Gold Gardens.”

“Thank you,” Adaine said, hurried with the adrenaline of anxiety and victory. She hastily shoveled their winnings into her backpack (eliciting a quiet, surprised, but not at all dissatisfied ribbit from Boggy), hooked an arm each around Fig’s and Ayda’s, and pulled them away from the table. She bit her lip trying to contain her nervous and giddy grin.

“Holy shit, Adaine,” Fig commented admiringly as they wound back through the casino. “How come you never told me you were a beast at gambling?”

“I didn’t know I was,” Adaine couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve never done that before.”

“Okay, for real, how did you do that?” Fig asked. “There literally is no way to be that good, like, naturally. Was it some divination shit?” She lowered her voice to a hush.

“No, I didn’t use any spells,” Adaine conceded. “Ayda?”

“I didn’t either,” Ayda agreed. “However, though we are both diviners, I believe your being Oracle may give you some kind of advantage.”

“Huh. Maybe. I didn’t think about that.”

“You were getting visions of the fuckin’ dice?” Fig asked, incredulous.

“Keep your voice down, we don’t want to start a brawl,” Adaine warned, still holding back a fit of giggles. “No, no, those are like -- bigger, and unpredictable, it’s a whole thing. No, I could just, kind of, sense it? Have a good idea of what was probably gonna turn up on the dice next, and bet accordingly. And, y’know,” she shrugged. “Occasionally make sure they rolled the way I wanted. Once or twice.” The cheekiest, delinquent-est look spread across her face as she explained. “It’s not a spell and it’s not cheating if it’s a natural thing for me, right?” Fig burst out laughing and clapped her on the back. 

“I am loving this side of you, girl, we are so coming back here together at some point!” 

“We should really get going,” Ayda said, glancing around and considering their desire not to attract much attention. “Are we done in here?”

“Yeah, we should go and spend some of this fuckin’ dough we just won,” Fig said, nudging Adaine. 

“Yeah,” Adaine agreed. “This backpack is kind of heavy now. Where to next?”

“Ooh! I know!” Fig exclaimed, bouncing a little. “There’s gotta be a spa here, right?”

Ayda nodded. “I’m sure of it. The Gold Gardens’ main purpose is to provide pleasure for its clients.” 

“Let’s all have a fuckin’ spa day!”

Adaine and Ayda shared a brief look, then shrugged and smiled, letting Fig lead the way out of the casino.

The door to the sauna slid open and Fig stepped in, looking very pleased and refreshed after her massage. Ayda and Adaine paused from their conversation to greet her. “‘Sup, ladies?” Fig asked, taking a seat on one of the benches.

“Adaine was telling me about some Solesian history,” Ayda answered. “I did not realize the Helioic faith continued to influence the Council of Chosen so much after its inception.” Adaine nodded in agreement. 

“You good, Adaine?” Fig asked, tilting her head and picking up on some discomfort from her friend. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Adaine replied, once again showing off her terrible deception skills.

“You sure? You’re about as red as me right now,” Fig prodded, snorting.

“It’s just a little hot in here,” Adaine admitted, exhaling. 

“That is the point of a sauna.”

“A little too hot, then.”

“Feels fine to me,” Fig shrugged. “Ayda?”

“I feel fine as well.”

Adaine threw her hands up a little. “Well, we can’t all be immune to fire damage,” she huffed, eliciting a snicker from the tiefling and a chuckle from the half-phoenix. “Elves run colder, I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to stick around if you’re uncomfortable. You can go get a massage or something,” Fig suggested. “They’re so good here.”

“I don’t know,” Adaine sighed, brushing her hair back out of her (slightly sticky with sweat) face. “Ayda and I were waiting for our nail appointments.”

“She could get a massage too,” Fig offered.

“No thank you,” Ayda said simply. “I’m not very comfortable being touched so much by strangers. Is that weird?”

“Nah, that’s cool,” Fig reassured her. She scooted closer and gave her girlfriend’s hand a comforting pat. 

“I will wait for you if you would like to go, though, Adaine,” Ayda offered. 

“I dunno. I just feel weird about…” she trailed off, vaguely gesturing to herself.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that,” Fig whined. “Listen, you’re young and strong and hot, and this is a dirty pirate city, so no one’s gonna give a shit if you’ve got weird scars or whatever. No one cared about this,” she said, holding an arm up and tracing along a line running across her side and under her armpit, the scarred remnant of a nasty slash she’d received fighting some undead, mummified guards during a short junior year quest to plunder a cursed pyramid out in the Red Wastes. “Also, I felt how tense your shoulders were while you were working this morning. You’ve gotta relax a bit, girl.”

Adaine sighed. Unfortunately, Fig was right, and also very persuasive. “Fine,” she conceded, standing up and adjusting her towel. “I’ll go get a stupid massage or whatever.” She rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed. 

“Attagirl,” Fig grinned as Adaine shuffled over to the door. “Ask for Dominick, he’s amazing,” she advised.

Adaine nodded as she slid the door open and stepped out. “Got it, thanks.” She shut the door behind and disappeared. 

Fig hummed to herself quietly and kicked her feet. Ayda studied her for a moment, both curiously and admiringly.

“What are you thinking about, Fig?” she asked.

“Hm?” Fig responded, glancing over and meeting her girlfriend’s gaze. “Adaine, I guess.”

“What about her?”

“Do you think I can convince her to let me choose what she gets on her nails again?” Fig joked. 

Ayda snorted. “Almost certainly no, not after last time.”

Fig snickered. “Worth a shot.”

“Is that all you’re thinking about, my paramour?” Ayda asked again, gently and curiously.

“Mm,” Fig smiled. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” She drummed her fingers on the bench in thought. “What do you think about Adaine?”

“What do I think about Adaine?” Ayda repeated, tilting her head a little. “What do you mean?” Fig shrugged. Ayda tried to consider the question. “I like her. We’re best friends. She’s been one of my closest friends since we met, and I would do almost anything to ensure her safety and happiness.”

Fig nodded and looked at nothing in particular. “Cool. So we’re on the same page, more or less.”

“I also consider you one of my closest friends,” Ayda added quickly, not wanting to upset her girlfriend. “We are also best friends, both transitively and on our relationship’s own merits. And you are my paramour. I mean, obviously. It should be obvious. Right? It’s obvious?”

Fig gave Ayda’s hand another gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry babe, I gotchu. I feel the same way.” She could feel Ayda relax and exhale beside her. 

“Good. I did not want you to worry that I liked Adaine more than you,” Ayda explained. She was generally hard to read, but Fig had picked up on her quirks after so long together, and she could tell Ayda was a little flustered still, nervous. “I don’t. I mean, I like her quite a lot still. An approximately equivalent amount, let’s say.”

“You don’t mind that I brought her along today?” Fig asked, looking back up at Ayda.

“Of course not. I always enjoy spending time with you and Adaine.”

“Good,” Fig chuckled once and leaned on her companion. “Just didn’t want you to feel like she was crashing on a date or something.”

“On the contrary,” Ayda assured Fig, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her a little closer. 

The girls finally left the Gold Gardens late in the afternoon, giving their great thanks to Garthy for their hospitality (as always). Sustained by good food and drink, thrilled by their winnings, and refreshed from their spa day, the girls wound their way back through the streets of Leviathan and up to Crow’s Keep (Ayda carried them both up through the air so no one had to bother with a Fly spell or taking the elevator). They wanted to watch the sunset from the roof of the observatory; Ayda could tell from years of experience it would be a nice one tonight, and there was no better viewing spot than the top of the observatory’s dome. 

Arriving at the Compass Points, Ayda let them in and began leading them through the labyrinthine shelves back to the observatory.  “I’m going to grab blankets and bring them up to the roof for us,” she explained. “You may feel free to browse if you’d like while I do so, I should only be a couple of minutes. The library is closed right now so there shouldn't be anyone around.”

“And if there are, want us to ice ‘em?” Fig offered, smirking. 

“If they are actively stealing, then you have my permission to stop them however you must.”

“Oh,” Adaine chimed in. “I know you said the library was closed, but do you think I’d be able to borrow a book or two?” she asked. “I bet I can find some useful texts for my evocation class.”

Ayda smiled. “Absolutely. Okay, I’ll be back soon.” With a screech and a flourish of fiery feathers, she took off into the air, flew up, and disappeared behind a door at an almost inaccessibly high balcony.

Adaine meanwhile began to wander back through the bookshelves, with Fig trailing her for lack of another activity to entertain her and a desire to stick close by with her friend.

“You know where to look?” Fig asked. 

“Nope,” Adaine responded, running her fingers along the spines of books and occasionally pausing to pull one off the shelf and read its cover or flip through its pages. Out of mild boredom (or the instinct to parrot Adaine), Fig did the same, even though she wasn’t looking for anything at all. “But that’s kind of the fun part about it,” Adaine continued, eyes on a book in hand and a small, contented smile on her lips. “Don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” Fig asked. She shoved her hands in her pockets and watched her friend, who glanced up from her book just long enough to smile at her.

“I mean, you can come in here looking for something in particular,” Adaine started, looking around them at the rest of the library. “But there’s just so much here to find, you never know what you’re going to turn up. And so much of it is new and fascinating. It’s like a treasure hunt. You always come away with something wonderful.” She closed the book she was holding and replaced it carefully on the shelf, then kept walking down the aisle. Fig hummed quietly in response and followed again.

They kept on walking down the rows of bookshelves. Adaine focused on scanning every title she passed by, but Fig looked around; it wasn’t surprising when she had to tug on Adaine’s sleeve to get her attention, noticing something. Someone.

“Hey,” she said, using a Message cantrip.

“Huh?” Adaine returned, looking back at her.

Fig inclined a motion slightly with her head down one of the rows. “You see that guy, right?”  

Adaine peered around the corner and indeed spied someone, a young gnomish pirate sitting among a stack of books on the ground, with his nose buried in one in his lap. Adaine glanced back to Fig and nodded.

“He’s definitely not supposed to be here, right?” Fig asked.

Adaine made a face and shrugged. “I’m not sure? Ayda said the library was closed, but he doesn’t look like he’s trying to steal anything…”

“Hm,” Fig grunted, then took one step down the row. “Hey, kid,” she said, out loud. “You know the library’s closed, right?” 

She wasn’t trying to be intimidating or rude, but the kid jerked his head up to look at them and yelped in surprise anyway. He scrambled to grab something in his stack of books. “Wh-who are you!” he said, springing to his feet. “What are you doing here!?”

“Woah,” Fig held her hands up placatingly. “Chill, kid, I don’t bite.”

“Usually,” Adaine commented quietly. Fig shot her a look and she stifled a giggle. “Does Ayda know you’re here?” she asked the boy, stepping forward cautiously.

The gnome held a spellbook to his chest with one hand and held up the other, readied, and backed up a step as the girls approached. But he paused and made a curious face when Adaine spoke.

“Ayda?” he repeated. 

On cue, they heard a screech and the woman of the hour flew in above the shelves, landing in a feathery flurry between her friends and the boy. “I finished preparing the blankets and I heard my name, is something wrong?”

“Uh, we found this kid,” Fig said, gesturing to the gnome, who blinked up at Ayda without fear. “You said the place was closed, so we weren’t sure what he’s doing here.”

Ayda whipped her head around and trained her eyes on the boy. Then she relaxed. “Oh! He is no trouble,” she said, stepping back and out of their line of sight of each other. “Fig, Adaine, this is my friend Cheese Stormcrank.” She gestured to the boy as she introduced him. “Cheese, these are my friends Fig and Adaine. They’re visiting from Solace today to celebrate Fig’s birthday.” 

“Oh, wow,” Cheese said, eyes wide. He looked like he was about the same age as the girls, though a lot scrawnier. “Uh, hi! I’m Cheese!” he greeted, whatever nerves or fear he’d held previously either melted or hidden away now. “Nice to meetcha!”

“‘Sup?” Fig nodded in greeting, then whispered to Ayda, “He’s supposed to be here?”

Ayda nodded. “Yes, Cheese is welcome in the Compass Points whenever he likes. He is quite a talented young wizard from a…” she paused. “…suboptimal home environment. So he is allowed here after hours.”

Fig stifled a laugh. “Sounds familiar,” she said teasingly, nudging Adaine in the side. Adaine made a face and in retaliation lightly punched her in the arm. “Ow,” Fig whined, rubbing her arm. Adaine stuck out her tongue.

“I befriended him last year after he helped save Leviathan from destruction, and before he set sail to rescue his older brother.” Ayda continued. “I thought he might like a wizard friend. Like you did for me your sophomore year.” She looked back to the girls, who smiled warmly.

“Aw,” Fig said. “Well, hey, Cheese,” she greeted, nodding to the gnome. “Nice to meetcha. I’m Fig.”

“Are you the rock star?” he asked. She grinned.

“Yeah! Did Ayda tell you about me?”

“I did, yes,” Ayda confirmed. Fig beamed. “And my other friend here is the Oracle.”

“Hello, Cheese,” Adaine greeted next, offering him her hand. 

He shook it enthusiastically. “The Elven Oracle?” he asked, eyes wide. “I’ve heard about you too!”

“Just ‘the Oracle,’” Adaine corrected gently. “Or ‘everyone’s Oracle.’ Not just for elves.”

“That’s -- that’s incredible!” Cheese stammered, excited. 

“You said you rescued your older brother?” 

“Heh, uh, yeah! He was, um,” he answered, tripping over his tongue to try to tell the tale. “Like, kidnapped and being held and used for evil magic near the Forest of the Nightmare King?” Adaine’s eyes widened and she stepped back. Cheese grew nervous again. “Oh gosh, um, it’s okay! Everything’s okay now!”

“No, it’s fine, that’s -- that’s really cool,” she laughed lightly. “That’s just like... weirdly close to me and my family.”

“Told you,” Fig said, sing-song. Adaine balled up her fist again and Fig flinched away, laughing.

“Oh! Gosh, well, um,” Cheese said again. “I hope everything’s good now?”

“Very good,” Adaine confirmed. 

“If I may interrupt for a moment,” Ayda chimed in.

“Oh, please!” Adaine said.

“Go ahead, babe,” Fig agreed.

“The sun will set very very soon. We should get up to the roof now if we don’t want to miss it,” Ayda informed the girls. “I’m sorry to cut short your meeting. Is this okay?”

“It’s cool,” Fig reassured her. “We can catch up another time, yeah?”

Cheese nodded enthusiastically. “Sure! Great!” Fig gave him a wink and Adaine waved as they began to leave. He waved back. “Oh! And happy birthday, Fig!”

“Zone of Truth or Dare,” Fig announced in the dark of twilight. The girls found themselves comfortably lounging on top of the Compass Points library, having made themselves cozy on blankets and cushions borrowed from Ayda to watch the sunset. It had indeed been a beautiful sight: resplendent pinks and oranges, fading into the soft purples and dark blues of dusk, and finally the star-studded blackness of night, all shimmering in reflection on the Celestine Sea. This high up and without so much light pollution from the city below, it was a much more special view than any they could’ve found back home in Elmville, for certain. As the dark of evening set in, the girls lazily chatted and proposed topics of conversation and simple games to play while they lounged about, and admired each others’ nail jobs from the spa in the glow of Ayda’s fiery feathers and hair (Ayda’s orange, with a compass accent; Adaine’s pale blue, with an eye; Fig’s dark purple, with an anarchy symbol). 

Adaine made a face at Fig’s proposition. “What is this, a middle school sleepover?” she teased. “Are you eighteen or are you eight?”

“Have you ever been to a middle school sleepover?” Fig snorted back. Adaine shoved her lightly with a foot (obviously, the answer was ‘no’). She was more or less laying down with her head on Ayda’s lap at this point; Ayda combed her fingers through her hair absentmindedly. “C’mon, it’s a fun game.”

“Do any of us even know Zone of Truth?” Adaine countered. 

“It’s not a wizard spell,” Ayda pointed out.

“It is a bard spell,” Fig offered.

“Do you know the Zone of Truth spell, Fig?”

A beat. “No,” she admitted, giggling. “But we can just pretend.”

“How will any of us know we’re all telling the truth?” Adaine asked.

“Honors system,” Fig suggested, and moved to sit facing them cross-legged. “C’mon, let’s play. For my birthday?”

Ayda looked down and Adaine looked up, meeting each other’s gaze for a moment. Then Adaine dramatically rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she sighed, exaggerated. “Just for you.”

Fig grinned and shimmied a little in excitement. “Okay. Ayda, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Ayda responded after a second of consideration. 

“Did you ever have a crush on somebody before me?” 

Ayda spent another couple of seconds thinking. “I can’t speak to the previous versions of myself,” she began, looking up and off to the side in thought. “Because they -- or I -- never mentioned it in any of my notes. But as for the present version of myself, the answer is no.”

Fig looked very self-satisfied. “Dope.”

“Is it my turn now?” Ayda asked. Fig nodded. “Okay. Adaine,” she looked down at the girl partially laying on her lap. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm. Dare.” 

“I dare you to…” Ayda paused to think again. A small grin played on her lips. “...let Fig add whatever design she wants to your nails.”

“What!” Adaine shot up. Fig began to snicker loudly. “I -- we don’t -- I don’t even have nail polish with me!” she sputtered in protest.

“Lemme grab some from your jacket!” Fig leaned over and began to reach for the pockets of Adaine’s Jacket of Useful Things. Adaine swatted at her hands.

“No! They look good already, you’re gonna ruin them!” 

“You chose dare, you gotta deal with it!” Fig laughed, trying to worm her way into one of the jacket’s many pockets.

“Okay, just one nail,” Ayda revised her dare. 

Adaine huffed. “Fine,” she grumbled (though not with any real resentment) and produced a little bottle of nail polish from her jacket, handing it to Fig. 

Grinning ear-to-ear, Fig unscrewed the cap and dabbed excess paint off the brush. “Okay, gimme your hand.” Slightly reluctantly, Adaine complied, and Fig carefully applied a little red heart with devil’s horns onto one of her light blue nails. “There. Not so bad, right?”

Adainen huffed again, still pretending to be upset. Truthfully, it was kind of cute. “Fine. Fig, truth or dare.”

“Dare me, bitch.”

“Put an acoustic song on your next album.” 

“No!” Fig gasped in (somewhat) mock horror and clutched her chest. “Adaine, I can’t! I mustn’t! I shan't! I daren’t!”

“You absolutely dare,” Adaine snickered devilishly, impressed and amused with herself. “And in your own words, ‘you gotta deal with it!’”

“But my brand, Adaine! My brand!”  

“Deal with it!” Adaine laughed. “Plenty of Solace’s best musicians have dabbled in other genres before, you’ll be fine!”

“You cut me deep, Adaine,” Fig said, faking a pout and tapping on her chest emphatically. “Right to the bone.” 

“You’ll live. It’s your turn, you dork.”

“Yeah, right. Adaine, truth or dare.”

“I just went!” 

“That’s not how the game works! It’s my turn now and I pick you!” 

Adaine huffed and rolled her eyes again, all still in good nature. “Fine. Truth.”

Fig hunched over, propping one elbow on her knee and holding her chin up with her hand. She drummed her fingers on her cheek. “Have you ever kissed somebody?” 

Adaine, now leaning back again on Ayda, calmed down a bit from their rowdy last set of dares to think. “Yeah,” she answered after a beat.

“Who was it?” Fig asked.

“You only get one question at a time,” Adaine said, raising an eyebrow at her. Fig pretended to pout. Adaine ignored her and looked back up at Ayda. “Ayda, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Have you ever kissed someone? Besides Fig, I mean.”

“Are we defining a kiss in this context as being specifically on the mouth?” Ayda asked for clarification. Adaine shrugged. “In that case, no. However I have kissed other people elsewhere a few times, like on the cheek or the hand. That’s not strange, is it?”

“That’s pretty normal,” Adaine said. “I think most people have done that.” Fig nodded. “Okay, your turn.”

“Adaine, truth or dare?”

“Hm. Truth.”

“Who have you kissed before? In this context I mean on the mouth.” Fig snorted again.

Adaine scrunched up her face at Ayda. “Did Fig tell you to ask me this?”

“It is not your turn to ask a question, as per the rules of Zone of Truth or Dare,” Ayda reminded her.

“Fine. Kristen.”

“Kristen??” Fig repeated.

Adaine squinted at her. “Yes? Is this somehow surprising to you? She’s kissed all of us.”

“I have never kissed Kristen,” Ayda pointed out.

“Not you,” Adaine corrected herself. “It was freshman year. She was being weird about coming out and decided to kiss all of us for...some reason.”

“Aw, yeah,” Fig groaned. “That doesn’t count.”

“Sure it counts,” Adaine protested. “Technically, that was my first kiss.”

“It definitely does not count!” Fig argued. “You got kissed. That’s not the same as kissing someone else.”

“I fail to follow your logic,” Ayda said. “Is the act of kissing someone on the mouth not equivalent to being kissed on the mouth by them?”

“No, you gotta be an active participant.”

“Fine then,” Adaine said, pursing her lips. “In that case, no. I’ve never kissed anybody,” she admitted.

“Ooh, interesting.”

Adaine squinted at her and her mischievous smile. “What are you planning, you weirdo?”

“You gotta ask me truth or dare if you want an answer.”

“Fine. Truth or dare, Fig?”

“Dare.” Fig flashed her signature shit-eating grin. 

Adaine squinted, only momentarily thwarted. “I dare you to tell me what you’re planning.”

“Hey, no, that’s not how this works!”

“The rules of this game are very simple,” Ayda chimed in. “Adaine hasn’t technically broken them. I think it’s a valid dare.”

“Well, truthfully,” Fig sniffed, getting on with it. “I’m not planning anything.”

“So you’re just a nosy little bitch, then?” Adaine asked teasingly. 

Fig smirked. “Exactly. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” 

“Do you want to kiss somebody?”

Adaine paused, making a face of thought. “Like, someone specific?”

Fig shrugged. “Anyone.”

“Um,” Adaine began, shifting a little. “I guess not?  I mean...there’s definitely a few people out there who, if they kissed me, I don’t think I would mind it, but I don’t think I’m going to go out of my way to initiate that, if that makes sense?”

“Permission to ask a question out of turn?” Ayda asked, looking down at Adaine’s head in her lap.

“Granted,” Adaine responded, looking up.

“Are you asexual?”

Adaine bit her lip and her eyes wandered away. “I don’t know,” she sighed. “I guess I might be?  I’ve never had a crush, so I’ve never, like, looked at someone and felt like I just had to...make out with them or...whatever.” A beat. The soft solemnity of sincerity set in around them. “It feels weird to try and label myself when I’m still so young and I’m still dealing with all the garbage I got growing up, even though I know a lot of people who figured their own deal out at my age or younger.” She paused again as they all considered that. “...Anyway,” Adaine finally continued. “Ayda, truth or dare.”

“Truth,” she chose.

“Why do you care?” Adaine asked. It was genuinely curious, no hint of bitterness whatsoever. “Why do you want to know?”

“Hm,” Ayda said. “I am very happy in my relationship with Fig,” she began, glancing briefly at her girlfriend seated closeby. “And I know many of the other Bad Kids either currently are or have been in relationships as well, besides you. I also know that you’re like me and spent a lot of your life lonely. I know that committing to a relationship with Fig, for me, as well as becoming friends with you has helped me significantly, but...I worry about upsetting you. I don’t want to upset you since two of your best friends are dating and you are single.” 

Adaine could tell from the feeling of Ayda’s fingers in her hair how nervous she was as she explained. “That’s very sweet of you, Ayda,” Adaine answered. “Thank you. I appreciate the concern.” She looked up again, to meet Ayda looking back down at her, who brushed a bit of hair back from her face. “Here, I know it's not my turn, but I’ll answer the question without anyone asking it: I’m really glad you guys are happy together. I don’t ever want to come between you two, because you’re really good together, and you’re my friends so I’m happy to see you happy.” A beat. “I guess sometimes it’s a bit of a bummer being alone when all my friends are dating and I’m sitting alone in my room writing an essay or something. But then someone like you or Fig, or you and Fig, will invite me to hang out together, and then it really doesn’t matter anymore. I just like spending time with you guys, and I’m glad that we still can while you’re dating.”

“Aw,” Fig commented. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Ayda responded. “Fig, truth or dare?” 

“Dare me.”

“I dare you to repeat for Adaine what you said to me earlier today in the sauna.”

Fig and Adaine both blinked. “Which part?”

“Just after Adaine left to get her massage.”

“Which was really good, by the way,” Adaine interjected. “You were right, Fig.”

Fig grinned at her. “I’m always right. Uh,” she began. “I think we mostly talked about how we both were on the same page about how much we liked you and are happy you could join us today.”

“Oh,” Adaine said. 

“I know, I know, I’m not much of an open book--” Fig started. Adaine snorted and shoved her with her foot again, and they all giggled. “Anyway. Whatever. Enough of that sappy shit. Adaine, truth or dare?”

“I’ll take another dare.”

“Kiss me.”

Adaine blinked at her. (Ayda did too.) She’d been very quick with her dare, one that neither of them had truthfully been expecting. Gently Adaine sat up. “What?” she said, quietly.

“Kiss me,” Fig repeated. It was dark out, and the soft orange glow from Ayda made making out a blush on her reddish skin difficult; then again, no one really needed to see it to know it was there at that moment. “I dare you,” she added, barely more than a whisper.

“Um,” Adaine glanced over to Ayda. “I. Uh.” She stammered. “You guys are dating. I can’t.”

Ayda tilted her head. “I don’t mind.” A beat. “Don’t worry, Fig is a good kisser.”

“It’s cool, babe,” Fig said, trying to reassure Adaine, who looked between the two of them and wrung her fingers in her lap. “Are you nervous?”

“I. It’s just. Um,” Adaine fidgeted. “It’s not. Fair. To you.”

“Oh!” Ayda said. “I believe I can help.” She turned and placed a hand on Adaine’s cheek gently, looked her in the eye. “May I?” she asked, making absolutely sure she had permission. Adaine was silent and wide-eyed, but nodded just enough. “Fantastic.”

Ayda leaned in, closing the gap between them and placed a kiss on Adaine’s lips. 

When Ayda finally leaned back, Adaine’s eyes blinked back open and blushed brightly. Ayda was as difficult to read as usual, but smiled softly. “There. Now you can fulfil your dare without there being an imbalance among us.”

Adaine laughed once, then a couple more times. “Okay,” she said, unable to keep from grinning nervously, or to slow her heavily beating heart. She shifted a little to turn and scoot a little closer to Fig, who was now sporting an obvious blush and anxious smile of her own. “Okay. C’mere.”

No more words were necessary, and Fig eagerly met Adaine in the middle as she leaned in for her second real kiss in five minutes and her life. 

The next morning, Adaine slept in. Which admittedly was not very late compared to most of the household full of rowdy teenagers, but she was typically an early riser, so rolling out of bed and descending the stairs from her wizard’s tower at 9:30 was certainly noteworthy to the observant of the manor. 

On her way downstairs, she first passed her sister in the hallway exiting the bathroom. “Morning,” Adaine yawned in greeting. 

“You left your crystal on your desk yesterday,” Aelwyn informed her. “And it seemed like all of Elmville was trying to reach you while you were gone.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh. Whoops,” Adaine replied.

Aelwyn scoffed gently. “You might want to look into this brand new feature called ‘do not disturb’ mode. It’s quite useful. I’m sure someone of your intellectual skill can figure out how to make it work,” she commented sarcastically, passing her sister and going up the hall in the opposite direction. Adaine rolled her eyes and continued on her way. 

Downstairs, Adaine shuffled into the kitchen, where Sandra Lynn was loading the coffee maker. The ever-vigilant mom immediately heard Adaine’s approach and whirled her head around. “Adaine! Sweetie, there you are,” she greeted, obviously letting out some held worry. 

“Good morning, Sandra Lynn,” Adaine returned, smiling as warmly as she could realizing she was probably about to get chewed out.

“Y’know kiddo, I know you’re seventeen now, and I trust you,” Sandra Lynn started, setting the coffee maker to brew and pulling an extra mug down from the cabinet. “But we’d really appreciate a heads up first before you disappear all day and leave your crystal behind, okay?”

“Sorry,” Adaine apologized. She opened her mouth to explain when Kristen wandered in.

“Is the coffee ready yet?” she asked, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The redhead lit up when she finally blinked awake and noticed Adaine. “Hey, Adaine! Where’ve you been, girl? Tried texting you like a hundred times yesterday.” 

“I went to Leviathan for a day to check out a book from the Compass Points, and hang out with Ayda and Fig,” Adaine explained. “Aelwyn knew where I was,” she added, a weak defense to the mother still peering pointedly at her. She tried to redirect the conversation. “You’re up uncharacteristically early,” she commented, turning back to Kristen.

“Yeah, I know,” Kristen conceded, yawning. “But we got a lotta work to do still today to get ready.”

Adaine looked confused. “Ready for what?”

“For the surprise party?”

Adaine blinked. “What surprise party?”

“For Fig’s birthday?” Kristen said, looking back at her peculiarly. “That’s why we were all trying to reach you yesterday. The boys went to the mall to pick up everybody’s presents, Gorgug went to go get the cake, the rest of us are getting the house ready for the party,” she said. “I guess you helped by keeping Fig out of the way so she didn’t find out?”

Adaine blinked. “Is the party...today?”

“Yeah. It’s her birthday.”

“Her birthday was yesterday.”

“Was it?” Kristen frowned and made a face. “I thought it was today?”

“Definitely today, sweetie,” Sandra Lynn chimed in, distributing the freshly-brewed coffee among the assembled mugs on the counter. “I would know.” She brought one over to Adaine and placed it in her hands, then brushed her bangs back and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “You can make up for your radio silence yesterday by helping me party-proof the house after coffee.” She patted Adaine on the shoulder and, taking her own coffee, left the room.

Adaine blinked, looking slightly dumbfounded. “Oh,” she said simply.