LAVEN HEPHAESTUS ARVENALDI, II
VAIGON CITADEL
O h, spend the night with me, Grey!” Levora clings to Greyce’s side as we all collectively arrive home. “We will be lighting a fire at the Ryverian House and enjoy what is left of the rest of the night. Given what I walked in on during the gala.” Levora cuts her eyes at me.
“Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut.” Amias crosses his arms.
I raise my eyebrows. “That too.”
Though, there will be repercussions to be served. Whatever family he has left, which I am sure must be quite a few, will ask questions or demand there be payment for loss of their family member. I can only speculate this is what the might of a High King must be, needing to serve no repercussions for your actions given you are the law.
“Well?” Levora waits for Greyce to say yes to her pleas to stay with her for the night. “Morano and Roaner are already waiting at the house for us.”
She is reluctant to answer and I feel it may be because of the reaction she received from Amias tonight, thankfully, she does not let that be held over Levora’s happiness. “Why not? I do need to go home first, I will change my clothing and come back.”
“I can go with you!” Levora beams.
“I will be fine,” Greyce chuckles. “I promise, I will return soon and I will bring you one of my sweaters to wear that I brought with me from the Mortal Lands.”
“You know the way to my heart.” Levora smirks.
“What is a sweater?” Maivena and Amias ask simultaneously.
Levora laughs. “It is like a men’s undershirt but thicker and much more comfy.”
“I will bring you back one as well.” Greyce winks at Maivena. “I will go now.”
To my surprise, Amias speaks to her. “Are you sure you do not want anyone to go with you?”
“I am very certain, I do just fine on my own, thank you.”
Ouch.
Maivena hides her smile as she sees Amias’s face wrench in annoyance.
It has been years since Amias has merely shown interest in anyone since his separation from Hua. I fear my brother is making stupid decisions based on feelings that someone else has inflicted and now carrying it with him into current relationships that could thrive.
“All you had to do was tell her she was beautiful tonight.” I privately speak to him.
Ignoring me, he watches Greyce ascend home.
Finally, he responds. “I cannot breathe when she is around me.”
And fear encompasses his eyes as he looks at the tiny remnants of magic left behind from her ascension.
“Let us go then,” Levora holds her hand out to Amias and he finds the vivacity to compel a smile for her and together we ascend to the Ryverian House.
* * *
In the back of the house Roaner, Morano, and Ezra are being guided by Esme as she points out where to put all of the cushions on the ground around the fire pit. The cushions are placed near or in front of the chaises they have brought outside. It seems we will be here for quite some time, they have placed enough cushions for us to all fall asleep comfortably.
Within the darkest part of the forest, I can hear the rustling of wings and quiet purrs of a Dragon. After, I see the eyes that are exactly of my own, then, beaming through the trees, Vorzantu is first and directly behind him is Vaigon.
Maivena smiles as they settle on the ground near us. Now, they know where to find us without needing to guide them. They are learning that both Vaigon and New Quamfasi are their homes.
“Your wings are strengthening,” Maivena touches Vaigon who nudges into her hand.
Vorzantu leaps up to the back of the chaise and sits while curiously watching Roaner, Morano, and Esme lie down the rest of the cushions for us to sit on.
“I need to change my clothing, as much as I love this gown, I must get out of it.” As Maivena walks away, I trail in her footsteps, she needed help getting into this gown and she will need help getting out of it.
Leading up the stairs of the back of the house, Maivena smiles looking around. “Has this home always been this stunning?”
“Not at all, it started out as a shack, it was a safe haven for Morano until my father had it turned into a larger home.”
“You mean a mansion,” she casually corrects while entering through the doors and observes the area around her. Once in the drawing room, she finds the portraits of all my siblings and I posted on the walls. “I remember that young face.”
I roll my eyes at her as she stares at the portrait of me when I was seven and ten.
Not long after this portrait I met her. Who would have thought in a short period of time after that my life would be drastically changing?
“Come along,” Maivena closes in and the gentlest smile is there. “Let us change.”
* * *
Maivena has put on one of my black undershirts that fits her like a small dress then she wrapped the dark blue Porvienia around her shoulders. Just as she has, I place my Porvienia over my shoulders.
From upstairs I can hear the quiet laughter from below and I follow the sound.
“Make way, I come bearing Brovita.” Stravan says as he walks down the steps and to the firepit where everyone cheers, awaiting him with small wooden vessels.
Turning, Dyena hands me a bottle to open and I fill mine and Maivena’s vessel.
“Brovita is for special occasions!” Morano shouts, but willingly takes some.
“Is tonight not special?” Levora asks, looking around the pit at all of us.
I sit on the chaise behind Maivena who sits on the cushion placed in front of it on the ground. She leans her head against my knee and settles in.
“Sweaters anyone?” Greyce says through ascension holding five pieces of fabric that looks soft to the touch though heavy.
Ezra puts down his guitar and helps Greyce by grabbing a couple and giving one to Maivena and then Levora who adamantly demands one in particular that is light in color and has buttons.
Hua plops to the ground near Morano and tilts back her vessel of Brovita until it is gone, Morano laughs and fills her cup again.
“Sweaters,” Levora holds one up and we pay attention to this human attire. “Also known as cardigans, say which ever you would like, they are the same thing, do let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“It is a cardigan.”
Turning at the voice, Levora and Greyce grin. “Phyv!”
“When was someone going to tell me that children are not as fun as some people make it seem?” He asks while looking drained.
“How is that immortal child coping in the mortal world?” Stravan asks and gives Phyv what is left from the bottle of Brovita.
Ezra begins to play a lovely melody from his guitar and by magic, Stravan brings forth his own guitar and plays with him.
“There is a child from our universe on the Mortal Lands?” Esme questions as she observes the cardigan given to her. “How are they surviving?”
“By sheer luck.” Phyv sits next to me. “And his friends.”
“I enjoy the feel of this.” Dyena smiles as she puts the dark green cardigan on.
Vaigon and Vorzantu hesitantly smell the fabric on Maivena, but they are quickly distracted when they hear Nyt barking on his way over to everyone. Behind him slowly trots Salem who hops into Greyce’s lap as she sits on the ground where cushions lie.
Nyt, being playful, antagonizes Vaigon and Vorzantu, urging them to chase him around the perimeter of the house and they fly lowly behind him as he speeds away.
“Dragons and domestic pets intermingling.” I laugh.
“Odd,” Roaner quietly says from across the fire and we all fall into laughter.
Amias sits next to Morano on the chaise and it is impossible to avoid how often he has looked at Greyce since her arrival. He stares at her like she is the tiny glimmer in the night that leads him on his way.
“We will talk of the child on mortal land tomorrow.” I start. “Nothing that involves our duties shall be spoken of for the rest of the evening.”
“Agreed,” Maivena says as she looks up at me.
The dark blue sweater in her lap attracts Salem and he curls on top of it and purrs.
“That is the sweater he would sleep on when we would not be home,” Greyce chuckles. “I figured it was only a matter of time before he saw it and gravitated towards you.”
Phyv stands and holds up a small book. “I brought a book back with me, it is full of the poets from the human world. Some of their most profound poets are in this book and I figured I would share it with you all.”
“Come sit,” Levora motions him over to the large chaise she sits on. Phyv leaves my side, then both Levora and Greyce sit on either side of him and cuddle in. I can see how often they must have done this in the past because of how natural it is for them to lean on him and he opens the book.
Nyt, finishing his lap around the house, stops at the feet of his people. Levora pets his head and Vaigon and Vorzantu land on thick branches of the trees nearby.
Phyv flips through the pages in the book, searching for a poem, as he does so, Maivena adoringly pets Salem who enjoys her touch and rolls around in her lap.
Esme and Roaner, who sit on the other end of the fire pit near Hua narrow in on Phyv, waiting. It seems we all are rather intrigued by the entice of poetry. Or, maybe, in this world brewing with battle, for one night we want rest.
Greyce points at the page as he turns and Phyv smiles, nodding at her.
“A poem written by Allen Ginsberg,” he begins. There is a quietness that settles around us and all we can hear is the melody of Ezra and Stravan’s guitars, sparking fire, the slight breeze dancing through the leaves on the trees, and now Phyv’s calm voice as he recites. “The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction. The weight, the weight we carry is love . . . and so must rest in the arms of love at last, must rest in the arms of love.”
POEMS LED TO TEARS, and tears led to more Brovita, and more Brovita led to dancing around the fire until we tired out.
Now, Maivena curls her legs through mine as she turns to her side.
The touch of her hand to my cheek forces me to open my eyes and she stares up at me doe eyed before she lays her head over my chest.
“Hold me all night. Do not let go, not once.”
I do as she asks, and she too holds me.
The restfulness of love in only our arms.
