By the time I reached Azure’s tavern of choice, The Ruby Fang, half a bottle of wine was already settling in my stomach. The warmth of the firewine helps against the chilly night air and my raging nerves. The bar breathed with an electric hum; the kind of warmth that came from sweat, smoke, and too much laughter. Somewhere amongst the songs and tankards, I wished I could forget about tomorrow.

  The number of people crowding the bar at least raised the temperature in the room. No way I would be freezing. Men and women littered the tables strewn around the room, chatting happily and creating that comfortable buzz of conversation. I looked towards the bartender, an orcish woman around my own age. I’d seen her many times on many drinking trips, but her name had gotten lost somewhere along the way. We locked eyes above the heads of people crowding the bar. Being this tall certainly made things easy. She smiled and nodded her head to the side, signaling towards a table off in the corner.

  The tavern roared like a forge; laughter, tankards, and music hammering against the low ceiling. I slipped through the crowd, the smell of firewine and smoke clinging to every breath, until I spotted them in the far corner. My people. The lantern on their table threw a pool of gold around them: Saoirse, hair the color of new copper, already halfway through a pint of something probably none of us could even stomach to drink. She looked tired, like she hadn’t slept in days; Basin, a patient mountain beside her, the candlelight catching in the sharp planes of his face as he listened to her complain about something I couldn’t quite make out, smiling that quiet, knowing smile; and the empty chair where Azure should’ve been, a puddle of condensation already forming on the wood.

  I hesitated on the edge of the light. For a second, the gold looked too bright, the air too hot. The same metallic shimmer that flashed across my sister’s blade when we sparred as children. I blinked, and it was gone, just lantern-light again. Maybe the wine. Maybe nerves. I sighed, forced a grin, and thought,

  Don’t think about tomorrow.

  But the thought pressed back, whispering in my head with Leo’s voice, the way it always did when the night felt too quiet. Focusing back on the mist in the room, Azure was in it. Waiting to make her entrance with a splash. Literally.

  As I reached the table, I waved to my friends and plastered on a smile. These are people I’ve known since I was thirteen, yet I still felt extremely awkward. Like, I didn’t know how to talk to them when it was the last time I ever saw them.

  You’ll never see them again.

  Echoed that viscous voice in my head, reminding me just how little time I had left. Shrugging off my overcoat, I locked eyes with Saoirse, the only human in our little group. She raised her ginger eyebrow at me sceptically. She leaned over the table, the firelight flashing off the copper strands in her hair. She always looked like she was thinking too much. “Someone’s overdressed, Yann?k.”

  She judged, her heavy accent cutting through the noise like sparking steel. Looking between her and my clothes, I realized she might actually have a point. My white dress shirt and dark wool pants showed just how disconnected I am from the common folk. A very out-of-place noble. Compared to Saoirse, who was wearing a simple dress, I looked like I was on my way to a debutante ball instead of the local watering hole. With a sigh, I began rolling up my sleeves, aiming to create an air of casual comfort I definitely didn’t have. As I unbuttoned the top button of my shirt, I began to relax a bit. Setting my satchel down and planting myself on an empty chair next to Basin, Azure’s older brother. He flashed a grin of pearly white teeth over my shoulder, and I knew what was coming. The air behind me rippled, a shimmer, then a spill of mist. Azure took shape out of it. Basin caught my eye over the rim of his cup just before Azure’s prank hit. Mouthing“duck” a second too late, and cold water spilled down my back. Her laughter was already bubbling from her throat before her body was even solid.

  Trust her to make an entrance.

  “Basin, you godsdamn traitor!” I barked, twisting in my seat as Azure doubled over laughing.

  “Don’t blame me,” he said, voice smooth as ever. “I warned you. You’re just slow.”

  “He’s always slow,” Azure chimed in, resting an elbow on his shoulder.

  “Just like you.” She continued with a sly smile.

  She only laughed harder, the sound bright and liquid, like she could drown the whole room in it if she wanted. If anyone else had pulled that stunt, I’d have swung on them, but her laughter made it impossible to be mad. Basin leaned back in his chair, grinning that calm, dangerous grin of his. The sort that made half the tavern look over. The siblings were opposites: she was tide and spark, he the quiet deep that waited beneath. I’m not surprised.

  He has that dark and mysterious academic look going on, only he was tall and muscular, unlike most wizards from the colleges around here.

  Cold water clung to my shirt when Azure bent down and looped her arms around my neck. The sudden chill of her touch ran down my spine, but the warmth that followed hit just as hard. A confusing, traitorous heat that settled in my face.

  “That’s what you get, slowpoke!” She giggled in my ear. The sound was pure mischief, the kind that made it impossible to stay angry.

  I swallowed hard, trying to sound casual. “Sorry, Azure. I had things to take care of.” My voice cracked halfway through, of course.

  Basin, seated opposite us, didn’t even bother to hide his grin. “Told you he’d walk right into it.”

  “You knew?” I turned on him, scandalized.

  “He always knows,” Azure said, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “He’s got that creepy big-brother foresight.”

  Basin smoothed his dark hair back with a sigh. “And you’ve got the maturity of a puddle.”

  “You love this puddle,” she shot back, then flicked a drop of water into his cup.

  He stared at the floating droplet like it offended him. “You’re insufferable.”

  “Family trait,” she sang, grinning.

  They held each other’s glare for a heartbeat before breaking into the same laugh. That same half-snort, half-cackle that made me question whether they shared a single brain between them. Watching them, it was impossible not to smile. They fought like children, but the space between their words was full of something steady and warm.

  “Every time,” Saoirse groaned, rolling her eyes. “Every time we go drinking, the siblings start a domestic.”

  “It’s tradition,” Azure said.

  “A proud one,” Basin chuckled.

  “Yeah, well,” I muttered, wringing out my sleeve, “next time, make it a dry tradition.”

  “No promises,” they said together in perfect, infuriating unison.

  Their laughter rolled over the table like thunder in a summer storm. For a moment, I let it wash through me. The kind of sound that made the world feel simple again. I could almost forget what waited for me when the night ended. Almost.

  I leaned back in my chair, letting the edge of the lanternlight blur. Basin and Azure were still bickering about something trivial, Saoirse was egging them on, and I, well, I just watched.

  I tried to memorize it. The warmth, the noise, the smell of spilled mead and singed candlewick. Every ordinary detail that I’d miss once the gods took their due. I smiled, hollow and real all at once. If this were my last night alive, at least I’d spend it pretending I still belonged here.

  When I focused back, Azure was watching me, eyes like stormwater lit by the tavern flame, curious and bright. Her skin caught the lanternlight and scattered it like moonlight through water; unfair, really, how even the dimmest room seemed to adore her.

  I blamed the firewine for how my pulse tripped.

  As the hours wore on and Basin had been kind enough to dry me off with some wind spell the bartender had told us off for using inside, my nerves settled. The alcohol was a crutch I was heavily leaning on tonight. I knew what I had to do, but doing it was an entirely different question. We drank, laughed, talked, and enjoyed the night. I’ll never get tired of hearing Azure complain about her customers at her rune shop. Especially when she’s drunk and slurring her words. I thought I was going to crush the wine bottle with how hard I was holding it. I’d given up on the glass and was drinking straight from the bottle at this point.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Saoirse and Azure gossiped about something on the other side of the table. I couldn’t stop staring. Basin had known for a long time the effect his sister had on me. Not that I ever had been good at hiding it. If I had only one soft spot, it’s for Azure.

  “A bit heavy on the bottle, are we?” He asked with a tired smile, leaning over. I turned to look at him, bottling my worry in the wine.

  “It’s my birthday celebration, today is the only day you can’t judge me.” I laughed, taking another swig, letting the wine burn down my throat.

  “Ah, yes, little Yann?k is growing up.” Basin’s voice dripped with sarcasm. He was a few years older than me and more adult than the group combined. If anyone had the right to mock me for thinking I was grown up, it’s him.

  “Shut it, old man! You’re all dry, you can’t talk.” I laughed loudly at my own horrible joke and punched his arm the way that old friends do.

  “Don’t get cocky now, we’ve got plans for you.” Basin’s grin curled as he’d just pulled a secret from my pocket. That look of his could charm a dragon. Or get him punched, depending on who he aimed it at. With my eyes wide in mock fear, I leaned back in my chair, away from Basin.

  Oh no. I thought. What have they planned now? Azure slammed a tankard down on the table in front of me. Unceremoniously spilling mead all over the game of cards we were playing.

  “Happy birthday, N?ck?!” She exclaimed, her voice bright with glee.

  I buried my face in my hands; the church had rung its bells twelve. It’s my birthday. “Azure, you know I hate that nickname.” I groaned, running a hand through my hair.

  “Which is why I’ll never stop using it.” She grinned, her eyes glinting like stormy seawater in the light of the lanterns. Her hair shimmered like a cascade of liquid silver that refused to behave like anything solid when she leaned down and picked up the tankard again.

  “Drink up, birthday boy.” She smiled and pressed the cup into my hands. I pressed it to my lips and took a big swallow before I realized, this is not mead. I quickly tried to put the cup back down, but Saoirse’s hand flew up and grabbed the bottom of it, tilting it upwards and forcing me to drink. I sputtered and gagged as I kept drinking the golden liquid, doing my best to keep up with the tilt of the tankard. My friends were all laughing, so clearly this was either going to leave me completely plastered or something even worse.

  When I finished the drink, everything seemed fine for a few moments. The sweet taste of honey lingered in my mouth, with the hint of metal hiding beneath my tongue. It was honestly quite pleasant, until it wasn’t.

  Suddenly, my mouth was on fire, like hell itself had appeared on my tongue. I breathed like a panting dog, trying to ease the pain, but all that came out of my mouth was a steady stream of bubbles. Small translucent bubbles filled with reddish steam. Azure happily popped them to let the steam rise and disappear.

  Sweat pearled on my brow and ran down my face, dripping onto the table.

  “I thought you could handle a bit of spice.” Saoirse laughed and patted my back in what I think was supposed to be an attempt at comfort. She’d never been the comforting type, but at least she’s trying, I suppose.

  When I finally came back to my senses with Basin splashing cold water in my face to ease the pain in my cheeks, I felt just how much alcohol had been in that drink. The room was spinning, and my stomach definitely didn’t appreciate drinking whatever that was.

  “I think it’s time… hiccup… I'm going home,”

  I said. It took way more focus to get the words out than I would have liked. I’m definitely too drunk. Standing up and swaying a bit on my feet as I grabbed my jacket, struggling to put it on as my arms kept getting stuck in the sleeves.

  “Maybe I should follow him home; he’s wasted,” Azure said to someone.

  I assume she got an answer since she wrapped her arm in mine and began leading me out the door.

  The cold air felt like stepping out into sobriety. The wall of chill smelled of alcohol and faint fire smoke, though I couldn’t see any flames. I took a deep breath, letting the fresh air clear my senses and begin to sober me up. Azure held onto my arm, keeping me steady as we began the walk back to Morn?ngstar house. It felt like stepping out of a dream and back into reality. It was like the night had gone soft around the edges; even the wind sounded tired. It’s the kind of silence that feels like it’s listening to the words we weren’t saying.

  The street outside The Ruby Fang was nearly empty. Snowmelt ran in thin silver veins along the cobblestones, catching the moonlight like spilled wine. Azure walked beside me, her shoulder brushing mine now and then, our breaths weaving small ghosts in the air.

  Azure tugged her cloak tighter. “You’re quiet tonight.”

  “I usually am,” I sighed, my breath coming out like a ghost of the truth.

  “Not like this.” Her voice was soft, teasing on the surface but threaded with concern. “Did we make you drink too much, or not enough?”

  I smiled. “Maybe both.”

  The truth was heavier. Each step felt like the world pulling me backward, away from her laughter, toward the house that waited; toward the end. Somewhere in the distance, a faint heat shimmered across the horizon, though the night was cold. I told myself it was lanternlight, nothing more. She smiled at me, and I wished I didn’t know that I was losing her.

  We walked without speaking for a while. The city had fallen half-asleep: a shutter closing here, the shuffle of a cart there, the steady heartbeat of waves against the docks. Our boots are clicking in a slow rhythm. Every few steps, her hand brushed mine, cold at first, then warmer each time. She hummed something under her breath, an old sailor’s tune, off-key but sweet.

  The sound pulled a knot in my chest.

  “I’ll miss this,” I said before I could stop myself. Dragging up the courage to intertwine our fingers. She laced hers through mine easily, like it was something we’d already practiced.

  She looked up, eyes catching the light like water catching flame.

  “Miss what?” “This,” I repeated, gesturing at the empty street, the stars, her. “All of it.”

  Azure’s laugh was quiet, uncertain. “You talk like you’re leaving for good.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  For a moment, the world held its breath. Then she bumped my shoulder, forcing a grin. “If you run off, I’ll drag you back myself.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I bet you would.”

  She laughed, the sound I’d been trying to memorize all night. Even though she was laughing, there was something in her watercolour eyes. She was studying me, tilting her head back and looking at me like she knew I was hiding something, like my expression wasn’t hiding anything.

  She spoke, harshly breaking the silence like she only did when something really concerned her.“You look like you’re walking to the gallows, not home.”

  “Close enough,” I muttered, then sighed when she frowned. “I didn’t mean~.”

  “You always mean what you say,” she interrupted, taking a step closer.

  That stopped me. For a long moment, neither of us moved. The streetlamp’s flame flickered between us, bright gold. I swallowed hard. If I didn’t speak now, I never would.

  “Azure,” I said, “there’s something I need you to know.”

  Her expression shifted, the playfulness gone, replaced by that sharp, curious calm that made her seem older than both of us. “What is it?”

  I stared at the cobblestones. My voice came out low. “Tomorrow… There's a ritual. A family thing. You don’t need the details, just that it’s dangerous. For me.”

  “How dangerous?” She retorted, a bit too quickly.

  “Let’s say you won’t have to remind me to be on time ever again.” She blinked, trying to read whether I was joking. I wasn’t.

  “Yann?k…” The way she said my name made the street go still. It wasn’t a question, not yet, like she was still finding the words. Then, she said softly. “What kind of ritual?”

  I hesitated, not wanting to explain to her what was going to happen. She didn’t need to know what was really going on. I tried to force a laugh, but it came out wrong; too thin. Finally, I found a good answer.

  “The kind we write songs about to forget what it costs,” I said, my voice low and solemn. She frowned.

  “And what does it cost?”

  “Someone.”

  Azure stared at me for a long time, mouth hanging open in disbelief, while the cogs turned in that pretty little head, trying to make sense of what I had confessed.

  “You mean you?” She said, her voice little more than a broken whisper.

  When I didn’t answer, she continued, frantically grabbing my arms and shaking, like that was going to make me tell her everything.

  “You can’t be serious ~.”

  I cut her off. “Yes, I’m serious! I’m not asking you to fix it. I just~” I exhaled shakily. “I didn’t want to disappear without saying goodbye properly. You deserve that.”

  Her eyes shone with reflected light, silver and blue. “Goodbye sounds a lot like giving up.”

  “It’s not,” I said, even though it was. “It’s just honesty.” She stepped closer, close enough that her breath fogged against my chest.

  “If you come back, I’ll kill you myself for scaring me like this,” she whispered.

  That broke a weak laugh out of me. “Deal.”

  She pressed her forehead to my chest, the chill of her skin seeping through my coat. “You always did like bad ideas,” she murmured.

  “I learned from the best.”

  For a moment, the world went still. Just her heartbeat against mine, the taste of salt and smoke in the air. I could have stayed there forever. But forever wasn’t mine to keep.

  When she finally stepped back, I caught her hand and held it a heartbeat longer than I should have.

  “Thank you,” I said. “For tonight. For everything.” “Come back,” she whispered.

  I didn’t answer.

  She turned toward the waterfront, her silhouette dissolving into mist. The wind shifted, warm against my face, carrying the faintest scent of ash. I looked back toward the manor and for an instant, I thought I saw fire bloom against the horizon. Then it was gone.