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At night, Eizen sang.
He stood alone on the stern of the Van Eltia, leaning against the rail, the wind lashing at his hair. It was the one place where he could be far from eavesdropping ears, the wind his only listener, carrying his voice away from the ship.
If only it could take his singing all the way back to Rayfalke.
He missed Edna. He missed her every moment of his life, every second he was awake. But it was at night, always at night, that he missed her most of all.
Eizen closed his eyes, picturing her tiny hand clinging to his, her large eyes shining with delight as Eizen sang her favorite lullabies. He pictured her eyelashes fluttering as she started to drift off to sleep, her breath slowing to a peaceful, steady rhythm. And finally, he pictured her warmth, as he gently leaned down to place a kiss upon her forehead.
Oh, heavens, how he missed her.
Eizen finished the song, voice heavy with melancholy, hoping with all his will that Edna was sleeping safe and sound.
…Clap clap clap…
Eizen froze.
“Now that’s a sexy singing voice, if I’ve ever heard one!” Zaveid exclaimed, clapping in applause. “Can you do a raunchy song next?”
“Zaveid,” Eizen growled, hands clenching into fists. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to enjoy the show.” Zaveid grinned, walking over to lean on the rail next to Eizen. “Why did you come all the way here to sing? If I had your talent, I’d be showing off in front of everyone!”
“I’m not you,” Eizen retorted. Of course, of course. Out of everyone in the ship, Zaveid had to be the one who overheard him. Of fucking course. “If you tell anyone about this, I will throw you overboard.”
Zaveid’s grin only widened. “Woah, seriously? What’s wrong with letting people know that you can sing so well, it even turned me on?”
“Zaveid,” Eizen snarled, suppressing the urge to fling him in the water then and there. “I am not joking.”
“Do you ever?” Zaveid chuckled. “But fine, fine. I will keep your little secret… on one condition.”
Eizen narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”
Zaveid smiled. “Sing something for me.”
“…No.”
It took a moment for it to sink in—and then, Zaveid pouted. “Seriously? I’ll tattle.”
“And I will feed you to the sharks.”
“Wow, Eizen. Would you really throw your handsome Zaveid overboard? Wouldn’t you miss our steamy nights of passion?”
Eizen raised an eyebrow.
“Aw, c’mon. Why can’t you sing me just one song? I already heard you anyway!”
Eizen turned away. “I don’t sing for people.”
“Really? For no one?”
Eizen was silent.
Zaveid sighed. “Okay. Fine. I still think it’s a waste, though. You sounded really nice.”
Warmth bubbled in Eizen’s chest, but he willed it down.
“Let me know if you ever change your mind.” Zaveid grinned, gesturing goodbye. “I’d kill to hear something like ‘My Naughty, Naughty Malak’ in your husky voice.”
“Zaveid!” Eizen roared, but he was gone, only the echo of his laughter lingering in the air.
On the following night, the Van Eltia was attacked.
The enemy ship flew no flag—pirates, much like Eizen and his crew. It sailed fast and true, and before long planks were being dropped and enemies swarmed the Van Eltia’s deck.
Zaveid was one of the first to come above deck, muttering something about being woken from his beauty sleep as he blasted an attacker with a powerful gust of wind. Eizen rolled his eyes, but he was glad to have Zaveid fighting by his side. Two malakhim were better than one.
“Hey, Eizen!” Zaveid shouted, smirking even in the middle of a fight. “You should focus on protecting your ship, instead of staring at my ass!”
Eizen’s face warmed in outrage. “I was not staring!” he blurted, barely dodging an enemy slash. The blade cut a few inches off the tail of his coat, and Eizen growled in annoyance. That was Zaveid’s fault.
He funneled his anger into the enemy pirate’s stomach, punching him to the ocean.
“Nice one!” Zaveid yelled, his pendulums blurring through the air. “Too bad you’ll need a new coat.”
“Shut up, Zaveid!” Eizen felled another foe, the man’s ribs cracking under his fist. “Stop chattering during battle!”
Zaveid laughed, spinning as his pendulums knocked two enemies down at once. It made Eizen wonder if Zaveid had practiced the art of fighting and being obnoxious at the same time—he was rather good at it.
Though he had to admit there was something charming about Zaveid always being so carefree.
On and on the battle went, foe after foe leaping into the Van Eltia. Eizen knew there had to be an eventual end to the enemy’s crew, but many of the bodies littering the Van Eltia’s deck belonged to his own men. All he could do was hope that they were merely unconscious.
This had to end. Soon.
“Eizen!” Zaveid suddenly shouted, frantic.
Dread filled Eizen’s stomach. He didn’t need to ask why Zaveid had yelled.
Three daemons leapt from the enemy’s ship and landed on the Van Eltia’s deck.
They were huge, taller than Eizen himself, every inch of skin below their neck covered in dark scales. Their faces were still human, but their eyes had already been twisted, red pupils on pitch black sclerae. The daemon in the middle, who stood a full head taller than his companions—their leader, perhaps?—lifted its arm, and in the next moment, the three of them lunged.
The leader came for Eizen—and the other two dashed towards Zaveid.
Eizen sidestepped the daemon’s first attack, a vicious slash with its long claws. Without balking, it spun on its heels and lunged again, so fast and unexpected it managed to carve three shallow cuts on Eizen’s shoulder. For its size, it possessed incredible speed.
Not good.
Eizen glanced over his now-bloody shoulder, and to his relief, Zaveid was faring well against the smaller—and noticeably slower—daemons. Meanwhile, the rest of his crew was busy with the human enemies. If Eizen wanted victory, he would need to finish off this daemon leader, help Zaveid with the other two, and finally fend off the remaining humans along with his crew.
Doable. Taking a deep breath, Eizen charged at his foe.
The daemon dodged his first punch with ease, but Eizen had expected it; he immediately followed with a left jab into the creature’s stomach, too fast for it to avoid. His fist collided with flesh that felt harder than stone, and the daemon staggered, taking a few steps back to catch its breath.
Pain filled Eizen’s arm, from his fingers all the way up to his shoulder. He ignored it, gritting his teeth as he lunged at his now-vulnerable foe.
His right fist connected with the daemon’s chest, but the creature raised its forearms quick enough to block Eizen’s left follow-up. Once more pain flared in his arms, bearable in his right one, but excruciating in his left.
The daemon looked weakened, but Eizen knew his own bones would break before he managed to kill it. It couldn’t go on like this—only magical artes would be effective in this battle. But what could an earth malak cast while on a ship in the middle of the ocean?
He needed Zaveid.
Once again Eizen glanced over his shoulder. Zaveid’s pendulums lashed against his foes, cutting through their scales, sprinkling blood into the air. They counterattacked, but Zaveid dodged with ease, retaliating with a blast of wind that almost swept both enemies off their feet.
Eizen was struggling, but Zaveid was doing well. Too well.
How infuriating!
“Zaveid!” Eizen called out, realizing that the daemon leader was about to charge. “Switch with me!”
Zaveid glanced at Eizen, lips widening into a smirk. “Need my help?”
Eizen gritted his teeth. Zaveid would never let him live this down. “Use magic on this one. I’ll handle the other two!”
“So you’re saying you can’t handle their boss? And you need assistance from the great, talented, handsome Zaveid?”
It took a great deal of self-control to stop Eizen from yelling in frustration. He should never have let Zaveid board the—
Something collided upon Eizen, knocking all the air out of his lungs.
His mind was a jumble as he tumbled over the wooden deck, and all he could think was how foolish he had been, to get himself so carried away as to forget his surroundings. The daemon boss must have attacked him, torn him apart, and heavens Eizen would die, he would die here and never see Edna again—
“Shit, Eizen,” Zaveid gasped, leaning over him. “That was damn close!”
Eizen blinked, realizing he was not only alive, but very much unscathed. Zaveid, on the other hand, had three deep gashes on his left arm, from his shoulder all the way down to his elbow.
“You shoved me out of the daemon’s way,” Eizen muttered, gaze locked on the blood flowing from Zaveid’s wounds.
“Well, yeah. I need you in one piece if I wanna get laid tonight, you know?”
“You should have blasted it with wind. You’re wounded, Zaveid.”
“Oh, this?” He glanced at the gashes on his arm, smirking as if they were nothing. “Just a couple scratches. You got matching ones!”
Bullshit. Eizen’s cuts were much shallower, and Zaveid must’ve realized that. However, they had no time to argue. All three daemons were charging towards them.
“Take on the leader!” Eizen ordered, jumping back on his feet. “I’ll handle the other two.”
Zaveid smirked. “Aye, captain!”
The daemon leader lunged at Eizen, but Zaveid intercepted it, pushing it back with a wind arte. A part of Eizen worried about Zaveid’s wounds, yet it was useless to dwell on it.
All Eizen could do was finish off the two smaller daemons quickly, and then help Zaveid.
Eizen charged at his new foes. Both of them raised their long claws and lunged, fully on the offensive. After facing off their boss, Eizen found their attacks easy to dodge—they were fast, yes, but nowhere near as much as their leader.
As soon as he found an opening, Eizen jabbed one of the daemons on the chest. The impact threw it off-balance, making it fall flat on its back; thankfully, its flesh was nowhere near as rigid as Eizen had feared. The second daemon lunged at Eizen, but once again he dodged, retaliating with two punches on its stomach. Gasping for breath, the creature’s guard was down, and Eizen used this opportunity to knock it to the floor—once it fell, Eizen pounced on it, bringing his fist upon its head with as much force as he could manage.
The daemon’s skull crushed beneath his hand. It moved no more.
Eizen panted, both of his arms throbbing with pain. At this pace, his bones would end up with multiple fractures—maybe even shattered, if he was to face the daemon leader again. But he was a malak. He would heal.
The second small daemon was back on its feet. From the corner of his eyes, Eizen saw Zaveid, blasting the daemon leader with wind artes. Blood pooled around Zaveid’s feet, his wounded arm limp as he casted spell after spell.
Eizen had no time to waste. He lunged at his foe.
The daemon’s eyes widened, and it switched its stance from offense to defense. It dodged Eizen’s first punch, and the second, and the third, and it would have dodged the fourth and the fifth if Eizen hadn’t backed away, realizing his body had become sluggish under his growing exertion.
This isn’t working, he thought—but before he could come up with another strategy, the daemon grinned and sprang at him.
Eizen sidestepped a moment too late, pain flaring on his arm as the daemon’s claws slashed his skin. He backed away to assess the damage—it was deeper that the cuts on his shoulder, but thankfully nowhere near as bad as Zaveid’s wounds.
Oh, heavens, Zaveid. Eizen had to end this before it was too late.
The daemon charged again, claws ready to tear his flesh. Exhausted as he was, Eizen knew he wouldn’t be able to dodge, knew his counterattacks would be ineffective. Therefore…
Eizen braced himself, planting his feet on the floor. This would be risky, practically a gamble, but he could think of no other way out. All he could do was pray his cursed luck didn’t get him and Zaveid killed.
The daemon was upon him, raising its claw to attack—and Eizen dove towards it. His heart thundered as he wrapped his fingers around the daemon’s wrists, grabbing its arms as firmly as he could. The momentum of the daemon’s attack brought the tip of its claws to Eizen’s shoulder, but Eizen’s hold on the creature was just enough to stop it from cutting into his skin.
Eyes widening, the daemon began to thrash violently, doing all it could to free himself from Eizen’s grip. Eizen clenched his jaw, arms burning with pain, and threw all his weight into his foe.
They both toppled to the floor.
The daemon fell on its back, the impact of the fall momentarily dazing it. It was the opening Eizen needed. He let go of the daemon’s arms and brought his fists upon its head, pummeling it again and again and again, until it no longer moved.
Gasping, Eizen stood, head spinning with pain. He was sure his bones were fractured, but as long as he didn’t shatter them completely, he could go on fighting.
He rushed to Zaveid’s side.
Zaveid was wobbly on his feet, still casting wind artes, and dashing away whenever the daemon leader got too close. He hadn’t sustained any new injuries, but he was a shade paler from blood loss, and his foe… While it was clearly weakened, there was no question it had more stamina remaining than Zaveid.
“Hey,” Zaveid said, smirking despite his obvious exhaustion. “Finally got rid of the two shrimps?”
A blast of wind flew from Zaveid’s hands, knocking the daemon on its back.
“You were right,” Zaveid continued with a sigh. “Physical attacks are useless against that thing. My pendulums barely scratched it.”
Eizen tried not to stare at the way Zaveid’s arms trembled as he began to cast another arte. “And your magic?”
Zaveid shrugged. “All I have time to cast are lower artes. That scaly fucker is damn fast. Whenever I try to unleash anything even remotely strong, it gets to me before I can finish casting.”
Another blast of wind flew from Zaveid’s hands, but this time, the daemon dodged it. Zaveid puffed in annoyance.
“I’ll distract it,” Eizen said. “Cast your most powerful arte.”
Zaveid’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? You look pretty beat.”
“I’ll be fine,” Eizen said. They had no other choice, after all.
The frown Zaveid gave him seemed almost concerned, but Eizen had no time to dwell on it. The daemon was charging at them.
“Start casting!” Eizen bellowed, dashing towards their foe.
The daemon’s gaze shifted from Zaveid to Eizen, its stance changing from offensive to defensive. Given how ineffective Eizen’s previous attacks had been, he was surprised the daemon paid him any mind, especially with Eizen’s current state. But then again, Zaveid’s magic must have worn it down at least a little, and it may not have realized how exhausted Eizen was.
To buy enough time for Zaveid, Eizen had to capitalize on this.
Once Eizen reached the daemon, he feinted a punch, making the creature lift its arms in defense. Eizen withdrew at the last moment—he knew better than to grind his bones into dust by attacking that thing—and sidestepped, as if planning to flank the daemon. Again the daemon fell for it, spinning on its heels to face Eizen as it once more lifted its arms to protect itself.
Eizen suppressed the urge to grin in satisfaction as he repeated the same strategy one more time, making sure to keep himself between Zaveid and the daemon. He knew it was a matter of time until the daemon realized Eizen would not attack, and when that happened, Eizen would need to stop it from reaching Zaveid.
One more sidestep and feint, and the daemon grunted in annoyance, turning towards Zaveid. Its eyes widened when it saw the wind gathering around him, a tell-tale of the powerful arte Zaveid was casting.
That was it, Eizen thought, knowing not even a real punch would stop it from charging at Zaveid at this point. Gritting his teeth, he placed himself in front of the daemon, and when it raised its arms to shove Eizen out of its way, Eizen did the only thing he could—
He grabbed the daemon by its wrists, and used all his force to hold it in place.
For a moment the daemon was frozen, as if shocked that a puny malak would dare to try and match its strength. Then urgency overcame its shock, and it began thrashing its arms, desperate to free itself from Eizen’s hold. More than once Eizen was nearly lifted off the floor, but he steeled his grip as hard as he could, even as his arms throbbed with excruciating pain from his fractured bones.
Eizen knew he could not topple this daemon like he had done with the smaller one, not when this one was much taller and heavier than Eizen was, not when Eizen’s body was overcome with exhaustion. All he could do was grit his teeth against the pain and hope he could hold on long enough for Zaveid to unleash his arte.
The daemon stopped thrashing, and Eizen hoped that somehow it had grown tired, that the battle was won. But on the next moment it lifted its leg and kicked Eizen in the stomach, knocking all the air out of his lungs. Eizen fought against the breathlessness to keep his grip on the daemon, but once more it kicked him, then again and again, until Eizen’s legs finally gave away and he crumpled to the floor.
Through his blurred vision, Eizen saw the daemon run towards Zaveid.
“Zaveid,” Eizen voice was choked, barely audible. He coughed violently, his chest burning with pain, and finally managed to scream, “Zaveid!”
Zaveid had not stopped casting. The air around him swirled furiously, his arte almost ready to be unleashed. But the daemon was mere steps away from him, sharp claws poised to attack. There was no time!
“Zaveid!” Eizen yelled, blood pounding in his ears. “Stop casting! Run!”
Zaveid’s gaze flicked to Eizen, and he smiled.
He never stopped casting.
The daemon was upon him. Zaveid stared straight into its crimson eyes, unmoving. The world slowed to a stop as the daemon’s claws buried deep into Zaveid’s stomach, and the winds around Zaveid disappeared.
The next moment, a circle of light appeared above Zaveid’s collapsing body, unleashing a massive blast of wind. It stormed upon the daemon, raging, tearing, until the monster collapsed to the floor. It moved no further.
But neither did Zaveid.
When he came to himself, the first thing Zaveid noticed was a dull, throbbing pain in his bandaged stomach. The second was that he was in Eizen’s cabin, and on Eizen’s bed. The third, and strangest of them all, was that Eizen had dozed off on a chair right next to him.
It was one of the rare, rare moments in which Eizen didn’t have a frown on his face. His left arm was in a cast, but other than that, he seemed unscathed. For a while, Zaveid just watched the slow rise and fall of Eizen’s chest, relief overflowing him.
Then he took a deep breath, leaned as close to Eizen’s ear as his injury allowed, and yelled, “Wake up, sunshine!”
Eizen jumped so high he almost fell off his chair.
“What the—goddammit, Zaveid!” And there was Eizen’s typical frown, complete with his angry glare and gritted teeth. “I should’ve let you bleed to death!”
“Aw, honey,” Zaveid said, grinning from ear to ear, “You’ve been sitting there for heavens know how long, waiting for me to wake up. I doubt you could ever let me die.”
Eizen opened his mouth as if to blurt some excuse, but closed it again without saying a word. The fact he had been asleep by Zaveid’s side made it hard to argue he hadn’t been anxiously waiting for his recovery. “You idiot,” Eizen finally muttered, “What were you thinking? It’s a miracle you’re alive.”
“I’ve been known to work miracles,” Zaveid said, grin wide as ever. “Though I’m sure you know that, since you’ve slept with me.”
Eizen rolled his eyes. “I’m not joking, Zaveid. You should have stopped casting when I told you to.”
“You’re not the boss of me, Eizen.”
Eizen frowned.
Zaveid’s lips curved into a lopsided smile. “Hey, we’re both alive. Isn’t that enough?”
Apparently not, for Eizen’s frown only deepened.
Zaveid sighed. “C’mon, Eizen. I’m sure you know that was our last chance to kill that thing. I saw the state you were in. If I didn’t take the risk to unleash my arte, we’d both have ended up killed.”
“Not you. You’re a wind malak. You could have escaped.” Eizen’s voice became quiet. “You risked yourself to save me and the crew.”
“You’re giving me too much credit,” Zaveid said, forcing a laugh. “We’re too far from shore for me to fly away.”
Eizen’s eyes met Zaveid’s, and somehow Zaveid knew Eizen could see right through him. “Earlier on, when you shoved me out of the daemon’s way… Why didn’t you blast it with wind instead?”
Oh, damn. Zaveid had forgotten about that. “I don’t know. I’m not that smart.”
Eizen raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
Zaveid groaned. “Look… that daemon was huge, okay? I wasn’t sure if a little breeze could stop it.” Well, it most likely could, but he didn’t want to risk Eizen’s life.
He would risk his own, but never Eizen’s.
Eizen’s eyes widened as he realized the implications of Zaveid’s words—and then his expression softened. “Thank you,” he said, a subtle smile on his lips. “You’ve saved my life twice.”
“Y-You’re welcome,” Zaveid blurted, feeling oddly flustered. He masked it with a smirk. “If you’re so thankful, maybe you should do something nice to repay your gentle Zaveid, eh?”
Eizen’s face was blank. “I will not do anything sexual until we’re both fully healed, Zaveid.”
“Geez, who mentioned any of that?” Zaveid laughed awkwardly. “That’s all your idea, Eizen!”
Eizen rolled his eyes. He really did know Zaveid too well.
“I’ll ask for something entirely innocent,” Zaveid said. “For now, I mean.”
“What do you want?”
Zaveid smiled. “Sing for me.”
From the way Eizen’s eyes widened, Zaveid was sure his answer would be a flat ‘no’. He was ready to wave it off as a joke, but then Eizen’s lips parted—
And he sang.
Zaveid listened, frozen, as Eizen’s voice filled the room, warmer than liquor, smoother than velvet. He sang about a young malak who lived alone on a mountaintop, his deep voice brimming with melancholy, the emotion so real that Zaveid’s chest tightened. Every day the malak gazed at the world below, the world he would never see, for the mountainside was too steep for him to ever climb down. Eizen’s eyes were closed as he sang, the lyrics talking of profound, bitter loneliness.
But one day the young malak was visited by a nightingale, the first living creature he ever saw, for the mountain was so tall not even birds could fly that high. Eizen’s voice rose as he sang about the malak’s surprise and delight, for how could such a small, delicate bird fly where no other bird had flown?
Every day the nightingale visited the malak, and every night it sang him to sleep. Eizen’s voice switched to a high falsetto as he mimicked the bird’s singing, such a delightful contrast with his usual tone that Zaveid couldn’t help but smile.
With time, the malak learned to sing, and together he and the nightingale performed duets. The wind was their only audience, buffeting at the mountaintop as if in applause. Eizen’s voice became somber as he sang about the passage of time, about how the short-lived nightingale started to grow old, the melody so ominous that Zaveid’s heart grew heavy.
And then, one afternoon, knowing his friend was approaching its final moments, the malak begged the nightingale to teach him how to fly. The nightingale hesitated, for the malak had no wings to carry him through the sky. But the malak did not want to return to his lonely life, trapped in a mountaintop by himself, and so insistent he was that the nightingale conceded.
Together the malak and the nightingale stood by the edge of the mountaintop, ready to jump into the world below. The music’s tempo increased with tension, Eizen’s voice rising in a crescendo as he sang of the nightingale’s fear for what would happen if the malak failed to fly. Finally, they both leapt, the wind urging them on as the mountaintop was left behind them.
And together, they flew.
Zaveid felt a lump in his throat as Eizen sang of the malak’s happiness, the way he smiled at his first and only friend, the pure, unbridled freedom he felt as he saw the world beneath grow closer and closer. And all of the nightingale’s fear disappeared in face of its friend’s happiness, for even if the malak had no wings, he could fly.
For a few instants, he could fly.
The malak and the nightingale lived their final moments together, and when their flight ended, so did Eizen’s song.
Silence filled the room, the last notes echoing in Zaveid’s ear. Eizen’s gaze, which had been lost in the distance, now shifted slowly to Zaveid, as if waiting for a reaction. Speechless, Zaveid swallowed, trying to conjure the right words to describe what the song had made him feel.
“That was…” Zaveid began, struggling to maintain eye contact. “…It was… it was…” Flustered, he looked away, his serious expression finally breaking into an awkward grin. “…A total downer! Geez, Eizen, why would you sing that to a sick man? I was expecting a raunchy tavern song, not some tear-jerker with the main character dying at the end!”
Eizen frowned, and Zaveid blurted a forced laugh. If he wasn’t bed-bound, he would be running away very fast.
“I suppose I could have picked something more uplifting,” Eizen muttered, crossing his arms. “I’m sorry.”
Zaveid had to blink a few times before he realized Eizen had actually apologized to him.
“U-Uh… It’s fine,” Zaveid blurted, his smile becoming exponentially more awkward. “It wasn’t a bad song. I mean, it was pretty okay. I mean, it was pretty good.” He forced a cough, and regretted it when it tugged painfully at his wounds. “It was just the ending, you know. It was a little bit sad. …Not that it gets to me, of course!”
Zaveid laughed, wondering if running very fast really wasn’t an option.
“I understand,” Eizen said somberly, somehow oblivious to Zaveid’s… whatever it was. “I always had mixed feelings about the ending.”
“R… Right?” Zaveid’s forced grin was starting to hurt his cheeks.
“There is…” Eizen began, “…a different version of the ending. Where the malak survives.”
Zaveid raised his eyebrows. “Really? How does it go?”
Eizen hesitated. “He is able to fly despite having no wings, and soars the skies, seeing everything he had dreamed of seeing, always keeping the nightingale in his memory.”
“Woah, now that’s a good ending! Why didn’t you sing it?”
“It’s not… the original song. I…” Eizen sighed, “I made it up.”
Zaveid’s eyes widened. “Like, right now?”
“No, you idiot.” Eizen crossed his arms, looking down at his boots. “I made it up for my sister. I… I didn’t want to sing her lullabies with sad endings.”
Zaveid grinned. “So you do sing for people. Figured.”
“Just for her.”
“And for me?”
For a moment, Eizen’s face was blank—but then his expression melted into a grin. “Maybe I really should sing you a few lullabies. You act like a brat, after all.”
Zaveid laughed, so heartily he felt it tug at his wounds. “I’m just young at heart. Don’t get jealous.”
Eizen chuckled, rich and low, and Zaveid’s chest felt warm.
“Hey, Eizen,” Zaveid began, “since I saved your life twice, do I get to ask for another reward?”
Eizen raised an eyebrow. “You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll do it.”
“That song made me think about something, and I want to ask you a question.” He smiled. “If you were another kind of malak, and you could pick your element—which one would it be?”
“That’s what you want as your reward?” Eizen asked in disbelief.
“Tame, right?” Zaveid grinned. “I must be really badly wounded.”
“I’m almost worried,” Eizen said, smiling. “But isn’t the answer to your question obvious? I’m a man of the sea, after all.”
Zaveid leaned back on his pillows, putting on his best showman voice. “It’s true that your ship floats on water—but what is it that moves your sails? What do you feel against your skin when you stand at the prow? It’s wind, not water, that drives you forward, that embraces you wherever you go.”
For a moment, Eizen only stared in surprise. “You make a compelling case,” he finally said, his smile even wider than before. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Eizen, the wind malak,” Zaveid announced in a playful tone. “Sounds good, eh?”
Eizen laughed. “You’re pushing it, Zaveid.” He paused. “What about you? If not wind, what would you want your element to be?”
“Hmm, an element other than wind… I think it would have to be…”
Eizen leaned forward, eager to hear Zaveid’s answer.
“...Yes… my element would be… it certainly would be…” —he took a deep breath— “Fire. It would totally be fire.”
Eizen frowned, looking almost disappointed. “Why fire?”
“Because I’m super hot, babe!”
The irritated groan that left Eizen’s lips was music to Zaveid’s ears.
“Were you hoping I would pick earth?” Zaveid asked, smirking.
Eizen puffed in annoyance. “You’re the one who was so eager for me to choose wind.”
“Aww, babe. You don’t have to sulk.”
Eizen looked like he was ready to strangle Zaveid. “I really should have let you bleed to death.”
“You know you couldn’t,” Zaveid said, still smirking. “You love me too much.”
To Zaveid’s surprise, Eizen’s expression mellowed, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was the very opposite of the reaction Zaveid had expected, and now his heart, for whatever reason, was beating too damn fast.
“On that topic, how’s your wound?” Eizen asked, voice soft.
It took a moment for Zaveid to remember how to speak. “I-It’s fine.”
“Good to hear,” Eizen said, a smile once again tugging at his lips. “I have to go above deck for a while. Do you need anything?”
“I’m… I’m good.”
Eizen smile widened, and Zaveid’s heart thundered in his chest.
“See you later, then.”
Eizen stood, and faced the door—but on the last moment, he turned on his heels, leaned over Zaveid, and pressed a kiss to his lips.
It was a brief, chaste contact, only a hint of warmth and softness, before Eizen stood again, smiled, and left.
Heart fluttering, Zaveid sank back into his pillows, the echo of Eizen’s voice still ringing in his ears.