Chapter 113: Happy Birthday!
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Chapter 113: Happy Birthday!

  Stryg got on all fours on top of the chair and hissed at the hair stylist. The human backed away in fear.

  “Calm down, honey! He’s just trying to make your hair look nice,” Feli opened her arms wide and stepped in between them.

  “With those weird looking blades?! They didn’t cut Rhian’s hair to make her hair look nice,” Stryg glanced at the centaur.

  “True, but you’re different….” Feli trailed off.

“Why, because I’m a goblin? A hybrid?” Stryg glared at her.

  Feli crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, “I was going to say because you’re a guy. Most men like their hair at shoulder length at most. But, I just realized I’m not quite sure how long you like your’s.”

  Stryg sat back on his haunches, “Oh.”

  “Can you just trust me for a bit? We’ll make it easy. How about we just do a bit of a trim,” Feli grabbed his hand.

  “...I do trust you,” Stryg nodded. “I just don’t trust this other human.” He pulled a dagger from under his sleeve and tossed it to Rhian, “If the hair stylist looks like he is going to maim me even a slightest bit, I want you to slit his throat.”

  Rhian fumbled with the dagger and tried catching it.

“This is an official order from your chief, there can be no hesitance,” Stryg said sternly.

  “I shall not fail you!” Rhian stood at attention and saluted. Her eyes darkened as she stared at the hair stylist with killer intent.

  The man swallowed in fear.

“Sorry about this,” Feli bit her lip and looked away.

  “I-it’s fine. I always assumed magi lived differently to us. I guess I wasn’t wrong,” the hair stylist tried forcing a smile.

  “Okay, let’s get this over with,” Stryg sat back on the chair.

  The hair stylist walked back to Stryg, scissors in hand. Rhian stepped up right behind him, dagger pointed right at the stylist’s neck.

  “Just a trim then?” The stylist’s voice cracked.

“Yes, I think that’d be fine,” Feli sighed.

~~~

  Stryg took a deep breath of relief as he stepped out of the salon. The whole experience had been stressful. Having a complete stranger hold a sharp blade near his head and facing his back no less. There was literally no better way to backstab someone.

  Back in the Blood Fang village the Mothers would cut the hair of the tribe members, with a thin sharp blade. First Mother always insisted on cutting his hair, which would have been nice, since she had the steadiest hand of all. However, it simply turned out she just didn’t want the other Mothers to be infected with his misfortune and bad omen-hood.

  During each haircut First Mother would question him about his daily life, as if hoping he would incriminate himself from some blunder he had done. Which, to be fair, he had, the first few times. That woman had been merciless in her beatings. Stryg learned very quickly to be very careful with his words around the Mothers, especially the First.

  Stryg sighed, not that it did him any good in the long run. He was still exiled and First Mother wanted his head.

  “Cheer up, Master. I think your hair looks nice,” Rhian bumped his shoulder with one of her legs.

  “Hm? Oh, thanks,” Stryg smiled weakly.

  His grey hair had been trimmed to a little below his ear. It shined a soft silver in the sunlight. The back of the hair had been tied in a small ponytail with a bright blue ribbon.

  Feli hugged from behind, “Oh, he’s just too cute!

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not cute,” Stryg grumbled.

  “It’ll never be enough,” Feli nudged his ear.

“Where to next?” Rhian asked.

  “Shopping of course! We need to get Stryg something nice to wear and you need an entire new wardrobe,” Feli said.

  “Me!?” Rhian pointed at herself in shock.

  “Duh. Stryg may be a bit of a bumpkin when it comes to fashion and so many other things, but I’m not. I refuse to let you keep walking around with only a simple grey jacket.”

  “...Thank you,” Rhian blinked.

“What’s a bumpkin?” Stryg asked suspiciously.

  “It’s like a pumpkin,” Feli skipped down the street.

“Hey! Get back here!” He chased after her.

~~~

  They spent the rest of the afternoon visiting different shops in the trade district. Feli took Rhian to several stores that specialized in centaur clothes. They bought Rhian various sets of clothing, ranging from travel wear, to long fancy dresses that fell to her ankles. When Rhian spotted the maid accessory store she insisted on getting her own maid set. Feli wasn’t very keen on the idea, but Stryg bought three sets without any hesitance.

  Rhian put on one pair as soon as Stryg paid. The black dress and white apron with endless frills was completely impractical. He could see no way that the dress would serve well in battle. Still, the way the dress pushed up and cupped Rhian’s bust was a sight he could get used to.

  His next decision was born out of pure curiosity, or so he said. He bought Feli her own set of maid attire. She didn’t wish to put it on at the time, but she promised she would wear it when they were alone at home. It was enough for him.

  As for Stryg, Feli picked out a long white jacket with silver finishings. She also bought him a silk blue shirt and a tight fitting pair of grey pants, tied with a wide black belt and a silver buckle. She finished the ensemble off with a pair of tall black boots. She insisted Stryg wear his new clothes right away, to which he reluctantly agreed after she kissed him repeatedly.

  The sun was beginning to set by the time they finished shopping.

“Time to head home,” Stryg stretched.

  “Actually, there’s one more stop,” Feli said.

“Hm?”

  Feli led the trio down through the streets until they found themselves in front of the Merry Crescent tavern. Strangely, no light was coming from the windows, nor was there any of the usual bustling of laughter coming from inside. Stryg tilted his head, he could clearly hear the breathing of dozens of people inside.

  “Come on,” Feli grabbed his hand.

Rhian followed behind.

  Feli paused right before they entered. “Oh and please, whatever happens, don’t freak out and attack people, okay?”

  “What’s this about?” Stryg narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t worry, just trust me,” Feli smiled.

  She pulled him along. As soon as Stryg walked into the tavern a group of people jumped out from behind the tables. The candles were uncovered, illuminating the entire tavern in an instant.

  “Happy Birthday!” The group shouted in unison.

  Stryg was stunned. He looked around the group as they began singing a cheery tune. Rorik the drow captain of the guard held his mug up high as he hollered Stryg’s name over and over again. The barmaid Carla held up a sign that said Happy Birthday! in common tongue. Stryg wondered briefly how she had written it, since commoners couldn’t actually read or write in common tongue.

  The mystery was quickly resolved when he spotted Callum Veres in the crowd holding a paintbrush, still wet with blue paint. Nora Azol and Clypeus Gale were here as well, clapping to the rhythm of the music. As the song reached its crescendo the crowd parted in the middle. The goblin acolyte Karen and Stryg’s dwarf classmate Kithina carried a large cake between their hands. Nineteen lit candles sat shining brightly on the cake.

  “Surprise!” Feli laughed giddily.

“What.. W-what is all of this?” Stryg muttered.

  “I told you this morning, I’d take care of everything,” Feli kissed him.

  Stryg stared at the cake and fidgeted about. No one had ever done something like this for him before. A rush of strange emotions swam through his chest. Everyone was looking at him expectantly.

  “You’re supposed to blow on it. Make sure to put out all the candles at once,” Rhian leaned down and whispered.

  “O-oh.” Stryg took a deep breath and blew out the candles as hard as he could.

  A small blast of wind extinguished the candle flames and went on to blow some of the cake’s frosting right into Karen’s and Kithina’s faces. The crowd laughed, Kithina groaned, Clypeus furrowed his brow.

  Stryg’s throat burned, he could feel the aftershock of the miscast run through his body. Had he just accidentally cast a minor wind spell? He felt light-headed.

  “Master, you okay?” Rhian placed a hand on his shoulder.

  He was grateful, it was the only thing keeping him from tipping over like an idiot in front of everyone.

  “I just need to sit down for a bit,” Stryg mumbled.

  “Say no more.”

  Rhian helped him to a seat. Feli sat next to him. Carla brought mugs filled to the brim and an assortment of hot dishes. The tavern goers took the barmaid’s actions as a sign for the festivities to truly begin. Everyone cheered and began to drink in full.

  Karen joined them at the table, “Happy Birthday! How’s life been treating you these past few months, Stryg?”

  He pointedly looked around, “Not bad. You?”

  Karen sighed into her mug, “My parents still don’t talk to me.” She shook her head, “But, it’s not all bad. I got a chance to talk to my lil sis, Sophi. She’s doing well, thanks to you. In other news, I found this dumb human wandering the streets at night. My temple picked him up before the sentinels found him. He’s doing odd jobs around the temple for us now in exchange for room and board. Which means I’ve got less work now, so that’s nice.”

  “Your temple tribe seems to be growing,” Stryg nodded.

“Meh, something like that,” Karen chuckled.

  Callum sat across from Stryg, “Happy birthday my fellow hybrid and welcome back.”

“Thanks, it’s good to be back,” he found himself smiling.

  Kithina wiped her face with a towel before taking a seat next to Callum. “You just couldn’t hold back, could ya, Stryg? What kind of steel lungs do you have?”

  “That’s what I would like to know,” Clypeus sat down. He made a brief nod to Callum and turned back to Stryg. “So, what’s your secret?”

  “I ask myself the same thing everyday,” Stryg shrugged.

  “Good evening, thanks for the invite,” Nora sat down. “I’m glad I came. I realized I never got a chance to apologize and thank you.”

  “For what?” Stryg tilted his head.

  “...I insulted you and questioned your honor back in Mellow Bloom. I thought you cruel and dangerous. Yet, you risked your life to save Maeve’s when I couldn’t. For that I’ll forever be grateful,” Nora bowed deeply.

  “I thought Maeve was Clypeus,” Stryg took a sip of ale.

  Clypeus laughed, “Then you have my gratitude as well. I still can’t believe you managed to take down a seregulus by yourself, especially with your bare hands.”

  “Wait, what? What exactly happened during your trip?” Callum kept glancing between them.

“You did what now?” Feli frowned.

  Stryg cleared his throat, “Clypeus, Nora, how did you two even hear about this? You’ve never met Feli before.”

  “The most wonderful of centaurs told us about your birthday party,” Nora smiled brightly.

“Rhiannon invited us,” Clypeus said.

  Stryg glanced at Rhian dancing around the tavern with two mugs in hand. She laughed brightly as people watched in delight. Maybe Stryg wouldn’t bite her tonight, after all. Her chest bounced up and down as she danced. Then again...

  “Can we get back to the part about killing an extremely dangerous predator with your bare hands?” Callum asked.

  “I mean, it’s Stryg we’re talking about. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just bit the thing to death,” Kithina shook her head.

  “Yes, I’d like to know what happened, too,” Feli said in a cold tone.

“Um… you see… How about a toast, yeah?” Stryg raised his mug.

  “How about no?” Feli frowned.

  “Three cheers for the Merry Crescent’s premier mage!” Rorik strolled over and clinked mugs with Stryg.

  The whole tavern shouted in unison, mugs held high. Feli grumbled under her breath.

Stryg grabbed her hand, “So, you set this all up for me?”

  “Maybe,” she mumbled.

“Why?”

  Feli looked into his eyes, “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Stryg didn’t know how to respond. He had always felt inadequate, never enough for those around. Even with his magic, he was never enough, he felt like he was always failing Loh.

  Stryg would never have thought someone would go out of their way like this for him. Never would he have believed he was enough. Yet, the way Feli stared at him made him feel, that perhaps, just maybe, he was.

  “When is your birthday, anyway?” Stryg asked.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. It already past this year,” Feli waved her hand, as if to dispel the entire conversation.

  “What? When? Tell me.”

  Feli played with her purple hair, “Well, it was the day of the Festival of the Gods. You were still recovering from your injuries from the fall and you were dealing with a lot. I didn’t want to complicate things. Since you were already going to the festival, I thought I might as well tag along, keep things on the simple side.”

  “That’s why you two were alone that day,” Kithina said in realization.

  “And that’s why you wanted to go out so badly,” Stryg muttered. You just wanted to spend some time with me on your birthday.

  “It doesn’t really matter like that,” Feli shrugged.

  Stryg looked at Feli, truly looked at her. Not the curves and face that people fell for, but the woman sitting next to him. Of what she must have lost these past years living in this city that was cruel to the small and weak. Of all the things she must have compromised, she had chosen Stryg, a complete stranger as her fiancé, after all.

  Feli had given up her body and time to him in exchange for survival in a city that would have eventually swallowed her whole, not a trace of her existence left behind. She should have hated him or at best be apathetic towards his struggles. They were essentially just in an arranged marriage.

  And yet, she went out of her way to spend time with him, cared for him when he was at his lowest. She had always been a loyal friend and caring partner no matter his antics or confusions. Before he had left, she even opened herself up and told him she loved him.

  Stryg realized three things at the moment. The first was that he was incredibly lucky to have found Feli in this city of hundreds of thousands. Two broken people who somehow managed to find one another and find that their cracks somehow fit.

  The second realization was that he didn’t deserve Feli. Many others would have found Stryg’s behavior not simply unusual, but repulsive. Feli had embraced him and learned to accept each aspect she discovered. It was strange, but Feli did not turn away from him. Plum had, but Stryg had this strange certainty in his gut that Feli would stand by him to the end.

  The last realization was the most profound yet simplest of all. He didn’t quite understand it, but he knew it to be true. How had he not seen it before?

  Stryg clasped Feli’s hands, “I love you.”

  Callum whistled. Karen smiled. Clypeus grinned. Nora screamed in a high-pitch voice and clapped her hands. Kithina was still busy cleaning frosting off her face.

  Feli’s face reddened, “You’re not supposed to confess in front of everyone like this.”

“Marry me,” Stryg said.

  “...You really mean it this time don’t you?”

“I do.”

  Feli leaned in and kissed him.

The table erupted in shouts of congratulations.

  “As a priestess of the four ebon gods, I give you my blessing,” Karen patted both their shoulders.

  “We can’t get married in a tavern, though,” Feli giggled.

  “I’ll arrange a date that works for both of you. Although, technically I’m still an acolyte so I can’t actually officiate the wedding,” Karen smiled wryly.

  Rorik wiped a tear.

“Are you crying, Rorik?!” Carla asked.

  “Shuddap!” The captain sniffed. “Three cheers for Stryg and our beloved Feli!”

The tavern’s voices rang out in cheers.

 

 

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