Page 35 of A Tale of Mirth & Magic

Eventually, we pulled apart and headed hand in hand to the door.

Coming outside was a relief after the heat and noise of the tavern.

The night air was fresh and sweet, stars sparkling above in the inky black sky.

We made our way slowly back to the Oak & Spoon, me stumbling and cursing the tricksy cobblestones a bit as I went.

After a while, Barra broke the silence. “Would it be so bad—coming back to Nepu with me? We could find you your own place there if that’s the issue.”

I kept walking, watching the moths tapping uselessly against the golden magefire streetlamps. I tried to order my scrambled, tipsy thoughts. “It’s not that I think badly of it. I know you have a beautiful life there,” I said, swallowing hard. “But it’s not what I want.”

And instead of saying You could want it. You’ll like it. I need you, please, like so many before him, he just said, “Then what do you want, El?”

Heart in my throat, I sighed and said, “I don’t know. I really don’t know. But it isn’t that. Not now.”

I dared a glance at him, walking steadily beside me. His expression shuttered, mouth tight.

“I do want you , though,” I said softly. “And I wish I could want the kind of future you want for us, Barra. I just don’t think I have that in me. That way of loving someone. Being with them.” The drink had loosened my tongue too much.

“Couldn’t we just try? Together?” His deep voice broke a bit.

I didn’t want this to happen, to hurt him like this. Hurt myself. He should have disappointed me, should have done something by now that made me feel like I needed to get away.

Instead, I’d only grown more attached with each day that passed.

The warm, shy smile whenever he saw me. His sleepy eyes and soft kisses in the morning.

How he could light fire in my veins, my core, with just a look.

How he always thought of me, considered my needs, made his care clear beyond a doubt.

The way he’d begun to absentmindedly brush a palm across my hair, down my arm, when we came back together, even if we were only apart for a few minutes.

When he let me see more and more of him—his vulnerabilities, anxieties, past scars on his heart—and how he made me want to share some of my own too, for the first time.

We should have let each other go when we first got to this town.

Everything seemed so clear now, walking side by side in the cool, quiet night.

I never should have convinced him we could keep this casual fling going for a few days.

I’d been lying to myself then. We’d been lying to each other ever since.

And now I was going to be just another person in his life who hurt him. Rejected what he offered. Rejected him. After he’d braved opening himself up again. And I hated myself a little bit for it.

But what he offered me—going back with him to Nepu, living there, being a part of his family—almost everything in me cringed at the idea.

I tried to imagine it. Settling down in the village.

Meeting his neighbors, family, friends, everyone who had known Barra since he was a child, now judging me, seeing if I would fit in.

It was too much. Far too much pressure.

His many sisters and mas—maybe they’d welcome me, maybe not.

They all have an established dynamic together.

A long history, inside jokes, strong bonds woven over years that tied them tightly together.

Where would I fit into that? I had no frame of reference.

My own family hadn’t liked me, wanted me—why in the goddess’s name would complete strangers ever welcome some wandering, aimless elf into their homes, their lives?

They might try. For Barra’s sake, they probably would.

I would too, desperately. From everything he’d said, they sounded kind, like him.

But eventually I would say something wrong, do something awful.

I wouldn’t fit. They’d turn on me. Or I’d make myself leave before things imploded.

And if that were months, or years, down the line—it would only cut me deeper. Cut Barra deeper.

Better to end this now. He would get over me, probably sooner than he expected.

And I’d keep moving, as I always have. Traveling on to the next towns, cities, villages.

Exploring my newfound powers and continuing to hone my metalsmithing skills.

Making friends along the way, causing some drama, having adventures.

Not taking any new lovers though. Even the thought made me queasy, reminding me that I’d had several drinks on a mostly empty stomach. No… not for a long, long while. Until Barra was many hundreds of miles behind me, and I could think of him without wanting to travel straight back into his arms.

So now I slipped my hand into his as we walked. To his question, I said, “I’m sorry. But I don’t want to try for something that I know won’t work.”

I could practically feel the sadness rolling off Barra, but he kept his face forward. Shoulders stiff and only a gentle squeeze of my palm acknowledged my words. My jaw clenched. I forced the tears that threatened to rise back down. I wouldn’t make this even harder for him.

We reached the inn in silence and went up to our room. I gathered my belongings and packed them away, hefting the rucksack onto my back. Barra stood leaning against the far wall, arms wrapped around himself. He didn’t watch.

“I’m going to sleep at another inn tonight, then set off after the market tomorrow. But I’ll see you in the morning, right?”

No reply. I let myself gravitate closer to him, reach a hand up to his chest. He flinched when I touched him, and I pulled back quickly.

“Barra, will you come by my stall? To—to say goodbye. You can show off that necklace, make my customers wild with jealousy.” I smiled weakly, trying to joke.

His eyes finally dragged up to meet mine. Pain swirled in their brown depths: bleak hopelessness, embarrassment, and so much pain. I found myself stepping back, suddenly gripping the metal doorknob.

In a hollow voice, he said, “I love you, you know.”

My windpipe clenched. I couldn’t get enough air. I was back in the hot tavern, spinning, spinning, spinning. Before I knew it, I had slipped through the door, closing it gently behind me.

I ran.

Soon I stumbled out of the inn’s front door.

The stones of the street, the lamplight, the townsfolk moving along—it all blurred in front of me.

Light and colors smearing together from tears swimming and spilling.

The drinks were catching up to me. I set my feet down a side street shortcut toward a nearby inn with a V ACANCY sign that I’d spotted earlier on our walk back.

It felt miles away, and I was tired. So tired.

Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn’t notice the figure that stepped from the shadows of an alley. But he walked right in my path. Faced me with a cold sneer and said, “Having a bad night, sweetheart?”

I froze, my brain trying to take in the person before me. That familiar, unsettling voice.

Felsith.

My lip curled. I blinked furiously to clear my vision. It was darker here, the main road half a block away. No one around.

Reaching for my belt knife, I took a breath to bite back at him.

Something stung, sharp and cold, into the side of my neck.

My fingers found a small dart there as the edges of my vision quickly darkened, fading to black.

From a far distance, I felt myself stumble and slump to the ground.

Someone behind me caught me low before I smashed my head on the cobblestones.

“She’s out,” a woman’s satisfied voice said close to my ear. And then, as everything slipped away, “Told you that I’d make you pay…”

“Good,” Felsith replied, a distant oily purr. “Let’s move her fast.”

A response from the other person, indecipherable. My numb arms thrown around shoulders.

Then everything went dark.