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1) The Original
“Bran?” Maria asked as they sat outside underneath the glow of a billion stars. The War of Dusk and Dawn was over, the world was stable, and the half-elves were spending some well-deserved days alone in each other’s company (although, granted, the others of their party were staying in a house only a few down from them). Maria’s head was leaning against Bran’s shoulder, a blanket wrapped around both their shoulders.
The bard turned his gaze from the stars to look down at her. Maria was playing contentedly with the carefully engraved engagement ring on her finger, a thoughtful expression on her face. Bran hummed his acknowledgement, hugging her a little closer.
“Do you think we find each other in every universe?” the sorceress asked. “And if we do, do you think we fall in love every time?”
Bran smiled and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t think we fall in love in every universe. I know we do.”
“Could have just said ‘I know we do’ and spared me the heart attack,” Maria playfully grumbled, smiling when it drew a genuine laugh from Bran and the two shared a kiss and settled back down to watch the night sky.
“I wonder if they took as long as we did to confess,” Bran mused aloud.
“Bran,” Maria said with a long-suffering sigh, “we got together after not even a month of knowing each other. I don’t know how much faster you can get.”
“But every day without you was an eon to me, my love.”
“And now the days pass by too quickly?”
Bran smiled and rested his head on hers. “No. Now the days last into eternity.”
2) The Alternate
The demonic creatures that plagued Mallharc had been successfully stopped and the apocalyptic portal shut, although the stadium was in… partial ruins, let’s say.
“Don’t expect to be praised by this city’s patrons,” Sequoi hissed into Maria’s mind. “I don’t think they’d take too kindly to the city being partially destroyed, even if you were instrumental in its salvation.”
“I wasn’t going to expect praise, Sequoi,” Maria informed as her head turned to the approaching footsteps, Sequoi’s sight revealing the warrior Bran standing beside her.
“Whelp. City’s been saved,” he said, glancing at her several times and looking away with a flush.
“Ooooo cute boy likes you~” Sequoi trilled.
Maria ignored the nature spirit. “Indeed, although I imagine the games will be on pause for the next day at least.”
“Ah. A shame.”
“Quite.”
Bran was silent for a few moments, idly fiddling with the handle of one of his many weapons. “Well, there’s still plenty of time left in the day-”
“How does a late lunch sound?” Maria proposed. “Somewhere on the outskirts of the city perhaps. And then we can see where the night takes us.”
With Sequoi’s sight, Maria could see Bran blush further at the deliberate purr in Maria’s voice as he quickly agreed. “Maria, don’t tease the poor boy like that, he’s going to get his hopes crushed.”
“I’m serious about seeing where the night goes, Sequoi. He’s nice enough, respectful, and certainly quite strong. I’m more than happy to give it a try.”
“And bring home a boy to your parents? Tomal will scare the life out of him. Do it, I’ve got to see that.”
3) The Opposites
Liirac was not the safest place for Maria to be but she had little choice. Her homeland of Meracynth was deep in a war that was tearing the country apart and innocents were getting caught in the crossfire, either as victims to senseless violence or forcefully recruited to a cause they didn’t want to be part of. Maria had managed to escape to Liirac, hoping to maybe gather some help from the neighbouring country to free her own.
It was a cold and rainy day when Maria started to explore Thurston. She’s already tried some other towns closer to Meracynth’s border but it seemed that the people here were already preoccupied with their own war. Maria might have to solve that war before she could get help for her own, even if every day of delay meant that more people were being exploited in her homeland. So needless to say, Maria was feeling rather miserable this rainy day as she sought out the warmth of one of Thurston’s taverns.
As fate would have it, she never actually made it to a tavern. She was only a few streets away when she heard the strings of a lute playing a song that made Maria think of cosy nights by a fireplace and holding a warm cup with snow falling gently outside a window, wrapped in a bubble of peace and safety. She moved closer, forgetting the tavern in favour of finding the source of the music and she quickly found a bard sitting underneath a covered porch, playing a lute. He was a half-elf like herself, with a shock of red hair somewhat messily brushed to the side, leaning back in his chair and playing his lute like he hadn’t a care in the world, staring at the rain. Maria tried to approach at a reasonable pace but it wasn’t pleasant walking in the rain and splashing in puddles that soaked her feet.
“Do you mind if I come under your shelter, musician?” she asked over the sound of the rain hitting the porch roof.
The musician turned to her with a smile, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere to her right. “Of course, stranger. The rain sounds heavy today.”
Maria gratefully ducked into shelter, sighing with relief and throwing back her sodden hood. “It is,” she said, giving the half-elf a curious look. He wasn’t looking at her but he wasn’t looking at the rain either, instead fixed on a random point with a kind smile on his face. Surely something was wrong with his sight. “There are puddles deep enough to soak your shoe in an instant, and streams of water are running down the streets. And there seems to be no end to the clouds,” she said, feeling the irrational need to describe the world for him.
“Ah, seems I’ll be staying here today then,” the bard said with a chuckle but Maria could barely spend a moment to admire the freckles on his cheeks as a local citizen hurried down the street, a jacket over their head but Maria recognised the dirty glance they threw at the musician.
“Cut the noise out, short-ear! No one wants to hear the tunes of a blind beggar!”
Maria bristled at the familiar burn of an insult. “Hey! Shut your mouth if you don’t have anything intelligent to say,” she snapped back, glaring at the stranger.
“What’cha gonna do about it, half-breed? Go run to your elf mommy?”
“Oh, I’ll do worse,” Maria purred with a sneer. Thunder crackled overhead and lightning struck somewhere and the citizen screeched as their sight went dark, their hurrying feet stumbling and tripping over themselves to land them face-down in the muddied street. It was only for a few seconds, but enough to have the citizen scrambling up and running away as a dark voice spoke in their mind.
“Next time, you will walk a mile blind with no hand to guide you, and you will learn upon pain of loneliness not to treat others as lesser than yourself.”
Maria huffed out a breath, rather satisfied that her message had been received, and suddenly noticed that the music had stopped. The half-elf’s hands were frozen on his instrument, his eyes uncannily locked on Maria. “You know,” he said conversationally, “magic is forbidden over here. You could face worse than prison if you were found using it.”
“I know,” Maria sighed. “I found that out in some other villages. But Liirac is my only hope to get help for the war in my home country.”
“Well as I’m sure you’ve noticed, we’ve got a war of our own over here. I don’t know how many people would be willing to exchange one war for another.”
“That’s why I’m going to end Liirac’s war, and then return home to end my own,” Maria said. “I’ll face whatever challenges come before me. Innocents are dying in my homeland and I have to help them. And if I can help innocents here at the same time, then all the better.”
The musician smiled and stood. “Sounds like you’ll need help. Luckily for you I know a few people who are wanting to start a revolution. The name’s Bran, Bran Hornraven. And you?”
The musician held out his hand, and his smile was so open and sincere that Maria was suddenly glad he couldn’t see her blush as she shook the hand. “Martzia Amavangwë, but uh- I usually go by Maria Silkseller for safety.” Damn it, she was usually so good at hiding her true name! Something about this half-elf was already making her walls drop, but the conversation moved on.
“Maria it is then,” Bran smiled. “Come inside, I’ll introduce you.”
4) The Criminals
The cell walls were lined with hardened stone which wouldn’t have been a problem for Bran to break out of if it wasn’t for the fact that the cell was underground. It made the whole “breaking out” part of his life a lot more complicated. Not impossible mind you, not at all for someone of Bran’s skillset, but complicated.
The thief - though he preferred to think of himself as an opportunist - pondered his predicament as he sat against the wall of the cage. If he’d been left with an instrument of some kind then charming one of the guards into letting him free would be a piece of cake. If the door lock was rusty as many of them were, Bran would have easily opened the lock but the door was brand new and in good condition.
All in all, it looked like he wasn’t going to be able to escape while locked in this cell. He’d have to wait until he was moved from place to place, although he didn’t like his chances for that either. He was outside of his usual stomping grounds. Maybe the law enforcement here was actually capable .
Or maybe they weren’t, as Bran suddenly heard the echoing sounds of grunts and bodies slamming into walls or crashing to the floor. He heard the first words of a cry for back-up going up but it was rapidly cut short. And then there was silence, broken a minute later by a grey tabby cat who stalked in front of Bran’s cell, pausing when it caught sight of Bran. The cat turned its head and gave a meow to someone behind it, and Bran was trying to figure out why it was so familiar-
“Fancy seeing you in a place like this, Bran.”
“Maria!” Bran scrambled up, all melancholy gone as he darted to the bars, pressing himself against it to see the woman who stood on the other side, smiling wide. She wore the same leathers and dark cloth of a thief as he did, but her eyes and mouth were covered by a blindfold and a bandana respectively, and Bran was very pleased to say that he was one of only two who had seen the full face that lay beneath. “What are you doing all the way out here?”
“Well after our last adventure together, I decided to change my usual streets,” Maria explained. “Good thing for your sake that I did, hm?”
She held up a ring of keys with a jangle, and Bran let out a wry laugh as Maria felt for the door lock and started trying the different keys. “It was hardly my fault this time, they had those damn dogs on my tail.”
“You always have an excuse,” Maria said, swinging the door open after only the second try and pulling down the bandana to press a kiss to Bran’s lips that was eagerly returned. “So,” she said as they broke apart and she rested her arms on his shoulders. “This makes 7 times for you and 9 for me, correct?”
“I saved you from getting caught during our last adventure,” Bran argued. “We were even before now.”
“I’ll concede to that.”
The cat gave an impatient mrow and darted ahead. Maria sighed as she stepped away from Bran and fixed up her mask. “Let’s get your effects and head out, shall we? Abra will be glad to have you back.”
“He’s a good kid. How’s his pickpocketing going?” Bran asked as he followed Maria down the corridor, entwining his hand with hers.
5) The Unique
The grey tabby cat stretched out in the sun filtering through the window, content and sleeping in the warmest sunbeam the world could provide. At least, she was sleeping until the sound of a door alerted her sensitive ears. Her head shot up and she gave a questioning mrow which was answered a moment later by another meow and footsteps.
“Stay where you are Maria, I’m bringing him to you,” the houseowner said, stepping into the room and kneeling to set down the cat cage.
The cat didn’t listen and rose anyway, taking a big stretch before padding over towards the clicking tongue, navigating successfully with no thanks to the missing eyes and bumping her head against the human’s knee.
An insistent (and dramatic) meow from inside the cage drew the human’s attention away from the blind cat. “Alright Bran, you big whinger,” the human playfully grumbled, opening up the cage. “Go say hi to your lady.”
The orange tabby cat lept out of the cage the moment the door was unlocked, darting to Maria’s side and immediately giving her licking kisses. Maria was quick to return them, the two sharing soft cat vocalisations as they curled around each other, the blind cat nuzzling and sniffing for damages while the orange cat delighted in the attention. They walked side by side back to the sun, Bran guiding Maria with his body pressed against hers until they could both lie down in the sunbeams side by side as the homeowner packed up the cage.
“A whole vet trip just to tell me that he was acting dramatic to get attention from Maria,” they grumbled.
6) The Domestic
Bran may have been in his mid-forties and tired from a long day of work, but he still had a spring in his step as he approached the modest cottage and hopped up the three front steps. He was already smiling in anticipation as he opened the front door and stepped inside, managing to shut it behind him before the chorus of voices called.
“Dad’s home! Dad! Hi!!”
“Dada!”
“Hello Bran!”
Bran laughed as a young child slammed into him at full running force, hugging tight around his waist and beaming as Bran hugged back. He had Bran’s bright blue eyes but his shock of hair was the colour of Maria’s, and his ears bore the half-elf point. “How are you both, good day at school?” Bran asked, holding an arm out for the toddler who hobbled towards him and hugged his leg tightly, red hair carefully tied back in a tiny ponytail and his little ears too small to properly see which bloodline he took after (not that it mattered at all, of course).
“Yeah! We did geography today and my teacher said I was really good! Thanks to mama teaching me so much,” the older one said, his little 7-year-old face beaming up at Bran. “Did you bring home snacks?”
“No no, no snacks,” Bran said, doing some sleight-of-hand to move said snacks around his various pockets as the kid went riffling, trying to find the sweets Bran was often bringing home for his kids.
Calm steps approached from the home’s main rooms and Bran’s smile became wider as he saw his love approach. “Alright kids, move out of the way, mummy wants to give daddy a kiss.”
The toddler stayed clinging to Bran’s leg but the other moved out of the way with a giggle as the two parents shared a hug and a kiss. “How was today, Bran?” Maria asked.
“Very good, now that I’ve seen you,” Bran said, as he did every day. As always, Maria’s cheeks blushed a little.
“Ma, ma! Can I show Dad the muffins we made today?” the older child asked, nearly bouncing up and down in his excitement.
“Of course you can, Marcus,” Maria smiled.
The child cheered but was gentle as he grabbed the hand of the toddler. “Ash, come on! We can show Dad your artwork too!”
Marcus gently led his little brother away and Bran shifted so he could hug Maria by his side, watching the two leave further into the house. “It’s nice to see Marcus leading Ashton so easily,” he murmured.
Maria hummed her agreement. “I still worry about Ashton’s depth perception. I don’t know how to help someone who’s only blind in one eye.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Bran promised. “Now, are you ready for our vacation tomorrow?”
“And to leave the kids with Magella and Qiro? Absolutely,” Maria giggled. “Mags did call me today and ask if it was okay if Chi Pin swapped out for Qiro if he needed a break.”
“And you said yes as long as they didn’t get access to matches?”
“Of course.”
Bran smiled and kissed Maria’s forehead. “I love you, my dear.”
7) The Enemies
“The Nightfalls have gotten through the defences!”
The shout made Bran grit his teeth, turning his attention away from the battle before him to where his fellow Daybreak Yorsog was calling. The battle for this hold was tight, but the Daybreaks had known this was coming and they’d made sure their defences were firm. Except, apparently, for the ones who had gotten through.
“It’s just one actually! A sorceress!” Yorsog called, using a magical spyglass. “She’s alone! Looks like uhhh, some sorta lightnin’ magic?”
“I’ll handle her,” Bran called. His lute was already at his side so it was just a quick matter of ensuring none of his weapons had moved.
Yorsog gave him a sceptical look. “Ya sure Bran? Even one Nightfall be a nasty threat.”
“Don’t worry, friend,” Bran assured. “I’ve faced this sorceress many times. With Lathandar’s protection, she’s unable to harm me. I’ll get her away from the hold.”
Yorsog could only nod, wish him Lathandar’s blessing, and take his place on the wall as Bran took off, running for where the sorceress was sneaking closer. Bran could track her easily, even if she heard him the same time that he saw her. He ducked under the bolt of lighting that went for his head, plucking some strings on his lute and filling the air with a tune that invigorated him.
“Oh, it’s you again, bard,” the sorceress said with a snarl, clenching her hands into fists.
“Me again, sorceress,” Bran replied. “You’re not supposed to be out here.”
“And you’re always in my way. I might as well deal with you properly now so I don’t have to do so again!”
“You’ll have to catch me first!”
Bran took off in the opposite direction to the hold. A glance over his shoulder told him that the sorceress was following, as she always did. Bran could easily outrun her as she had to go slower so she didn’t trip over branches and dips she couldn’t see, but instead Bran matched his pace with hers, keeping her in range but always just out of her reach. His intention wasn’t to lose her, but to distract her (That’s what he told himself, anyway).
The bard ran until he judged they were well out of reach of the hold and then he spun around, playing a rapid tune as the air around him solidified and slashed towards the sorceress as invisible daggers. She only had time to throw up a brief shield around her that deflected some of the daggers, but the others struck true and she hissed as she started to bleed.
“Unfair, bard,” she grumbled, snapping her fingers and making lighting arc towards the bard, some tendrils catching him as he rolled out of the way, leaving his hair standing on end from the static electricity.
The two traded blows and spells, each suffering an equal amount of damage to what they delt. Bran knew he wasn’t fighting as hard as he could. He wasn’t using his more damaging spells, his stronger spells, and he knew it. And he knew that the sorceress knew it. But the sorceress wasn’t using powerful spells either. Bran had seen her wipe out a dozen Daybreaks with a well-timed blast but here she was doing shocks that set his teeth on edge and did little more. Bran knew that she knew it. And he knew that she knew that he knew.
Their battle became closer range, strikes hitting faster and more accurately until suddenly they were in each other’s faces. Bran had his scimitar in hand, the sorceress’ hand glowed with lighting, and by an act of sheer chance, he grabbed her attacking hand at the same time as she grabbed his, and then they were face to face in a stalemate, panting heavily and arms held a little above their heads.
There was nothing stopping the sorceress from letting loose her spell, just as there was nothing to stop Bran from wrenching his wrist from the sorceress and driving his blade home, but neither moved. They stood there breathing heavily with exertion, Bran staring into the pale eyes and sun-kissed face, and the sorceress staring at nothing much-
Lips were suddenly on his and Bran’s eyes widened in surprise but he didn’t move away and they only parted when the sorceress moved back as quickly as she had moved forward. “Sorry,” she apologised, sounding a little closed-off. “I just felt that one of us should-”
This time, Bran was the one to move forward and initiate the kiss, and it lasted for a lot longer as the two slowly lowered their hands and dropped their weapon and spell. They’d known this, deep down. It was the reason they kept chasing each other, kept singling each other out, kept going head to head in battle and yet never killing or even grievously wounding the other. Because how did you admit to yourself that you had fallen for the enemy?
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Bran murmured when they broke away, their arms around the other, saying what they were both thinking.
“I don’t see either of us moving away,” the sorceress replied, saying what they were both feeling in their hearts. “... I really shouldn’t encourage this, but I’m Maria. Maria Silkseller.”
“I shouldn’t either, but Bran Hornraven.”
They were quiet for long moments after that, both fighting their own wars between their heads and their hearts.
“If we get caught like this, we’re both dead,” Bran murmured, still unable to find the strength to move away.
Maria hummed in agreement. A few moments later, she spoke with soft and quick words, as if worried about being overheard. “The Nightfalls are planning an attack on Thor Aru hold, to gain control over that section of the river. The attack will be at dusk, during the uncertain light. If you have anyone in there you care about, you should move them before the month’s second moon.”
Bran’s eyes widened, both at the news and at the gravity of what Maria was doing. He was whispering back before he fully realised what he was saying. “The Daybreaks are trying to get in league with Liirac. They have anti-magic weapons over there, Astrodonian tech. Getting a single hit on a magic user will prevent them from using magic at all , even if just for a few seconds. The Nightfalls won’t stand a chance. No one will.”
“Don’t they realise those weapons could be turned against them?” Maria hissed. “Both sides are magical, we’re just debating on what source is correct.”
“They’re driven blind by hatred for your kind. They’ll do anything they can to win the war… Even if we suffer afterwards.”
They were both silent for a little. They both knew what the consequences were for betraying their guild, but in the face of it all… Well, neither were sure if the reward was worth it, but it was too late to go back now. They broke apart and Maria started slowly backing away.
“The Thor Aru hold,” Bran blurted, his voice a hiss as if the trees could hear them. “Will you be there?”
Maria paused. “Yes,” she said, and then she turned and ran back to her guild lines.
8) The Royal
The Queen stood tall in the sun as the visiting dignitaries left the city, escorted by the city’s guards and waved to by eager and excited citizens. At the Queen’s feet lay a fluffy golden dog with a harness around his chest that led to a lead wrapped around the Queen’s left hand. To her right and a little behind her stood her advisor with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the visitors leave just as much as he was watching over the Queen.
“I hope you don’t bear any ill will towards my advice of yesterday, your Majesty,” he murmured, his lips not betraying his words.
“Nonsense, Bran,” the Queen said, speaking clearly (she had nothing to fear in her own kingdom). “You know I always value your input and wisdom. Besides, I’d had some misgivings about their intentions behind their request for a treaty.”
She gave a soft whistle and the dog at her feet perked up, immediately standing and turning into the castle. Her advisor followed her, easily keeping step as they walked in silence through the busier hallways of the castle to the quieter wings.
“I know that the King’s representative spoke to you about relinquishing your position here,” the Queen said suddenly, much to Bran’s mild worry. “What did he offer you?”
“Riches and power far beyond what I currently have,” Bran responded truthfully. “It was clear he hardly knew what he was speaking of.”
“And the job position? Would you have found it more fulfilling than your place here?”
“You know that nowhere could make me more satisfied than here beside you, Queen Maria.”
The Queen stopped their walk and turned to where she knew Bran would be standing, half a step behind her. “You’re wise, Bran. You’re logical and strategic, which is why I trust you in your position. What wisdom do you tell yourself every morning?”
“That it is not wise for the royal advisor to be in love with the Queen,” Bran answered immediately.
Queen Maria smiled. “And yet here we are, every day. Are you loyal to me, Bran?”
Bran took her hand and held it warmly in his own, pressing a kiss to the back of the hand. “You have more than just my loyalty, Maria. You have my heart, my being. My very existence is at your command. Not even death could take me from you unless you commanded me to go.”
“I command you to live forever, and stay by my side for all of it.”
“Then here I shall stay, my Queen.”
9) The Evil
Bran poured over dozens and dozens of plans that were scattered around the table, once again going through all the information, every detail, every person involved, every plan and back-up plan and back-up back-up plan. He was so absorbed that he didn’t notice when the locked door opened, nor did he see the person who walked in until she started speaking, making him jump.
“The latest shipment of weapons has just come in, and the latest troup sent to the western border. No word from Merric yet, but I’m willing to give him another three days before we start sending pointedly worded queries.”
Bran looked up and saw his partner and his love placing her jacket on the back of a chair and a folder of notes on the seat, casting her gaze over the table. “And you are… worrying, again?” she asked, turning her gaze to him: one warm brown eye, the other a blind white with a scar carving down her face. The work of a magic user. Bran still remembered the long weeks by her bedside as she wept from the pain and he could do nothing but vow revenge.
“Not worrying. Planning. Making sure everything is in order,” he replied, turning his gaze back down. “Ensuring that there is nothing to compromise our success.”
“So worrying,” Maria summarised, walking around the table to wrap her arm around his waist.
“How goes the puppet king?” Bran asked, if only to distract her from his fretting.
Maria smirked. “Paranoid, as always. He won’t stand in our way.”
“Especially not with you whispering to him the orders we want to have.”
She laughed lightly, but there was nothing joyful about it. “Oh, my love. I may be the wit and the charm, but you have always been the brains. That’s why we work so well together.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Which is why I won’t scold you for checking over all our plans, but I will urge you to get some sleep. You think too slowly when you’re tired.”
“I had a nap after you went out,” Bran dismissed, waving a hand. “Have we had word from the Corodon guild?”
“You mean URAM?” Maria asked, rolling her eyes at the ridiculous name as she moved to put away the documents she’d brought. “Just another request for more arms. You’d think they’d go to the actual producers up north rather than crawling to us.”
“Maybe they’re pushing their luck with the suppliers,” Bran reasoned. “What reply will you give?”
“Well, we can’t spare our own equipment,” Maria scoffed. “We’re only a few weeks off from the big reveal, we can’t lose our grip on the puppet king. I’ll send back some polite denial and, I don’t know, something to appease them. Maybe instructions for how to not use up the charge wells on the daggers so fast.”
“Or instructions on how to not bribe every person they see with an anti-magic weapon,” Bran grumbled.
Maria laughed and moved over to him again to press a kiss to his cheek. “They’ll learn, if they want to gain control of Meracynth like we’ve gained control of Liirac. If not, well then, it’s easier for us to take over Meracynth too later on.”
“And people said you weren’t ambitious,” Bran grinned, finally leaving his worrying to wrap his arms around her. “What would I do without you, my love?”
“Worry yourself to death,” Maria said dryly, but she was smiling.
10) The Modern
It was 1pm, which meant it was lunch break for Maria. She clocked out for her lunch and then ducked out to the backroom of the retail store to slap the velcro tag over her name on the cork board to say that she was out for lunch. Five impatient minutes later, she was walking quickly out of her store, clutching a steaming container of food in both hands and a small carry bag with her water bottle and fork in the other.
The shopping centre was busy as always and Maria navigated the crowds with practised ease, even if they always got thicker near the food court. There, in the same corner as always (they couldn’t always get the same table), she could see Bran giving someone an apologetic smile as they left to find an unoccupied table. That smile changed to one of joy as he saw Maria and he waved her over.
“You’re here! Busy morning?” Bran asked, dressed in his own work uniform as Maria sat down opposite him, setting down her container.
“Not more than usual. Only one person yelling at me,” she signed, smiling at Bran’s eyeroll.
“I will fight customers for you one of these days,” he promised. “But for now!” He opened up the container he brought and held it out for her to see. “Greek salad for you today! I made the dressing myself, I’ve given it a taste test and it’s good to go!”
Maria clapped her hands to show her excitement, then unveiled her own, and held it out to him as she signed with her free hand. “Chicken Alfredo! Your favourite!”
Bran blushed as he took the warm container. “I absolutely love you, have I said that?”
Maria giggled and they both got to eating their food that the other had lovingly made for them, signing with one hand so they didn’t waste the little time they had together. Bran signed that Maria was still wearing her “I can’t speak, but I can hear just fine!” badge that she’d made some months ago, and Maria complained about needing a bigger one for customers who insisted on raising their voice to talk to her. Maria asked Bran about the cat he was looking to adopt, and Bran went on for a solid ten minutes about all the cute kittens he’d seen and whining that he couldn’t adopt them all.
All too soon, Bran’s watch beeped to signal they had to be leaving, and they both rapidly finished their meals and handed the container back to the other. “Do you still want to go to the movies on the weekend?” Maria asked.
Bran nodded, signing back as he drank from his water bottle. “Yes. Sunday afternoon still okay? You have Monday free?”
“Yes and yes.”
“Great! I’ll pick you up from your house at 2.”
They held hands as they left the food court and parted ways with a kiss, splitting up at the last possible moment to head their separate ways back to their own stores.
11) The Cliché
The door swung open with a jingle and the tired barista looked up from his work, recognising the regular who walked in. “Large hot chocolate in a travel cup for Maria, your usual seat is free,” he called, writing down the order and putting it and the end of a mini rush of customer orders.
“Thank you!” the regular called, her guide dog navigating her through the cafe and taking a seat at a booth near the window.
The cafe was a locally owned one, neither well known nor forgotten, but with a steady customer base, a good drinks menu, some standard cafe foods, and good coffee. Though Maria wasn’t one for coffee and instead preferred liquid chocolate. Her hands were clean but dry and cracked from working at her potter’s wheel early that morning but she brushed them along the smoothed surface of the short table anyway, her guide dog lying beside her feet, his harness off to let him rest.
It was several minutes later when footsteps approached and the tired barista put down the drink in front of her. “Your drink, Maria, sorry for the delay. I’ve got a pup cup for Abra too if that’s alright with you?”
Maria started, a smile on her face. “Oh, that’d be lovely! His harness is off so he knows he’s not actively working.”
She didn’t see it, but the barista smiled a little as he knelt down to hold the cup for the dog, cooing a little to him as Abra took eager licks. “You sound tired today, Bran,” Maria said. “Anything the matter?”
“Hm? No, no. Just… Bad sleep, and a long morning.”
“I see. Do you have a long shift today?”
“No, just a morning cover. I’m off by lunch.”
“Do you want to have lunch with me?” Maria offered. “My treat, of course. I understand if human interaction is the last thing on your mind today, but I also know of a really nice sandwich place nearby. It’s a good meal to have after an exhausting shift.”
Bran hesitated. “My shift doesn’t end for another hour and a half. Are you sure you can wait that long?”
“I’d come back,” Maria replied. “I’ve got some mugs and plates at home to glaze before I can put them in the kiln. Besides, the weather report said it’s going to be a lovely day for a walk.”
Bran hesitated some more, but the promise of a good meal (and a free one) was enough to convince him. And there was definitely no other reason he’d want to hang out with a pretty blind potter. “Sure then, I wouldn’t mind. I-I mean, I’d be happy to have lunch with you, Maria.”
She smiled. “Great! Oh, I nearly forgot.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a note that she held out to Bran. “For the coffee, and your tip, as usual.”
Bran had been intending on ‘forgetting’ to ask for the payment. He ‘forgot’ a lot of the time, but Maria was always quick to remember, as if she knew his ploy and didn’t want him to get fired (even though his managers were often happy to slide Maria’s order under the carpet, so to speak). “You’re too kind, Maria,” he said, taking the cash.
“You deserve a lot of kindness,” Maria replied. “I-I mean, for working with the public at least, I imagine there’s a lot of difficult people.”
“Suuuure,” Bran said, translating the wink she wouldn’t see with a tone she would hear, and maybe feeling a little proud as she blushed and rolled her eyes as she suppressed a smile. “Anyway, enjoy your drink, and I’ll uh, I’ll see you in an hour and a half.”
12) The Immortals
The festival was in full swing when Bran arrived, slipping out of a circus tent he hadn’t been in a moment before. He was dressed in human garb (it wouldn’t do to show up in full god size and regalia, it’d ruin the festival vibe) with his favoured instrument on his back, his gait little more than a stroll as he passed down the city streets, soaking in the joyful atmosphere. Only a few other gods took such pleasure in human festivals as he did, and he found one such god before long.
She was sitting in front of a large stone fire pit, the kind that a small collection of homes would cook their food over and stand around until it was time to sleep. No one took notice of her but the warming glow of her fire spread to all around her. Her glass eyes reflected the flickering flames as Bran approached and her head turned towards him, a warm smile on her face.
Bran stopped just outside the ring of light and bowed low, for even if she couldn’t see him with her eyes, she could sense him by other means. “Lady of the Hearth. A pleasure to see you here.”
“Likewise, God of Legends,” the woman replied, raising a hand and beckoning him in. “Please, no need to be shy. You know you are always welcome at my fire. And after all, this festival is yours.”
“I would never assume such a thing, although I do suppose that festivals are a good place to exchange great stories,” Bran said, entering the light and taking a seat at the fire. “And please, I am the God of Entertainment and the wisdom gained through knowing the tales of the past. There is no need to refer to me as the God of all legends.”
“And I told you to refer to me as Maria,” the goddess said. “And yet here we are.”
Bran chuckled a little. “True enough.” He looked around, smiling at children running across the roads wearing masks and costumes and waving tiny flags and ribbons. “I know you favour mortals more than most, but you should come to the heavens more, Maria.”
Maria made a small scoffing sound and the flames of the hearth flared brighter. “Please, and spend my time in a place of bickering and rivalry divided by factions? No thank you. I like my place down here.”
“Perhaps the gods are divided so because of your absence?”
“Perhaps, but eventually it will seek them to find solutions outside of themselves,” the goddess reasoned. “The gods need to learn from the mortals sooner or later, and only then will they find me.”
“I won’t argue with you on that. But I always seem to find you. That would imply that you miss your own kind, correct?”
The goddess raised her slightless eyes to look at him. The tales went that she had sacrificed her sight to gain power, but Bran of course knew the truth; she’s given up a physical sight in exchange to see to the soul. It was a terrifying idea, to be seen so intimately. And it was far more terrifying as a god to be seen so clearly.
“I stand for more than a hearth, Bran. I stand for family, and for the kind of comforting warmth that can only come from being where your heart belongs. I draw the kinds of people who seek those things, both mortals and gods. We both know why you always find me.”
Bran smiled softly and moved so he could sit beside the goddess, entwining their hands. “Thank you. For choosing me,” he said simply.
Maria smiled. “You are always welcome, my lover. In every universe.”