(hola, hola, hello and bonjour! A little note, Aegis Online is going on Christmas hiatus for a bit! Don’t worry, we will return, but I need a little break! Everyone, enjoy yer Crimmins, and Merry the Ho-Ho!)

 

 

Padraig –“Call me Paddy!”- is as cheerful and good-natured as his sister. Despite Dana insisting that she pay for the drinks, he waves it off.

“Yer tab is on the house, as a thanks for bein’ so welcoming ta me sis. She came home grinnin’ like a nun who’d robbed the collection plate! Apparently she got to play some ol’ tabletop game or some such?”

My dad, taking a drink of his pint, grins. “First, this is good stuff! Second, that was my doing. I got her into Dungeons and Dragons, and she picked it up quickly for a rookie!”

 Paddy chuckles, “Ah, it’s nae a criticism. She spends all her time workin’, she needs a break now an’ then! Now, tell me about yes!”

While dad makes conversation with Paddy, I sit with Jeffrey and Dana, a foaming pint of Guinness in front of each of us. Dana raises her glass, holding it out. “Come on, you two! Raise your drinks with me!”

I pick my pint up, and, accompanied by Jeffrey, we clink. Dana adds, “Sláinte!” before taking a deep draught. “Ahhh, that’s the good stuff!” she sighs, leaning back on the padded couch, the music now some low ballad about a knight who fell in love with the queen of the fairies and went searching for her.

I imitate her toast as best I can, butchering the pronunciation, but the Gaelic girl nods approvingly. It sounded like slawn-che.

Jeffrey swigs from his own beer, swirling his glass pensively. “So, Dana, what do you think about Kylie? Isn’t she just delightful?” he teases, with a sly wink at me. I turn red and almost spill my beer, hurrying to put it down on the table, before Dana grins.

“Aye, she’s a total cutie-pie and nae mistakin’! I mean, just look at her, she’s a right dinger!”

The only thing that comes out of my mouth is a strangled squeaking noise, followed by “ASGBSIkjhkwrtyjUHOIjijudheufhui!!!”

Dana cackles, “She feckin’ keysmashed! What a dote!” she coos, her lips curled in a wide, open smile as she sucks down another mouthful of beer.

I can feel my cheeks burning, and bury my face in my hands as the pair of them mercilessly call me adorable. This… Isn’t the worst thing to do in the world…

 

While I’m struggling through my first beer ever, Dana heads to the bar and returns with fresh drinks. She places each one down with practiced ease. “I used to work here, if ye’re curious!” She chuckles, plonking herself down again and running a finger through the foam head on her glass. Licking it clean, she winks at me, and I feel extremely uncomfortable in the best ways, a deep, pleasant warmth in the pit of my stomach as she smirks. I mutter, “You… She-devil!” and she cackles again.

 

I can barely remember everything that happened that night. I only had the two beers, but... I was drunk on the atmosphere. The warmth and light inside the bar, seeing my parents laughing and smiling, being teased playfully by Jeffrey and Dana, just… celebrating being alive, and surrounded by people who accept me for who I am…

 

 

It takes two more days before I can jump back into Aegis Online again, and, when I wake this time, someone on my friends-list is in the room I’d rented in the inn. It’s Asteria! She’s holding me, and has a serious look on her face.

“Kettrin, I… I need some space.”

I stare. I mean, we’d kissed, sure, but… she said she loved me! What’s going on???

I splutter, beginning to ask if she regretted kissing me, if I’d done something wrong, if I’d-

“Not like that, I mean space in the bed. I’m about to fall out!”

She giggles, and I sigh, relaxing and scooting over as she adjusts her positioning.

“Meanie! You made me go all… Blagh!” I complain, flapping my hands in explanation.

“Sorry, sorry! Anyway, what plans d’you have today, my little angel?”

I melt a little, but clear my head enough to answer.

“Well, I have that diary belonging to Zakariah Templeton, right? It says he came from the college here. Remember, the Chrono-Archeologist? I was going to return it to his colleagues.”

Asteria smiles. “That’s very thoughtful of you, cutie. Anything else?”

 I nod. “I also want to find Ulged, he might be able to help us with that problem we had with the crazy puppet-ninja girl. Anri, I think?”

Asteria curls her top lip in a grimace. “Yes… I wouldn’t mind getting a chance at payback, myself…”

I giggle, “Also, I wanna find a temple or something! I want to see if there’s a way to switch back and forth between unlocked classes, in case I need to use my Skill-Forge again.”

I snuggle into Asteria’s arms, enjoying the warmth of her against me.

“Oh, I went to a memorial with Dana yesterday… it was nice, but also pretty sad… but I met her brother, and he’s really cool and we had drinks and it was just…. Fuwehudjeoijdiq…”

Asteria’s husky giggles grow louder. “I see! Should I be jealous of you spending time with other women, dear Kettrin?” she pokes my cheek playfully.

I shake my head wildly, almost blinding myself with my own hair. “No no no! I’m not-! I mean, I wouldn’t-!” she silences my stammering with a kiss, and I melt into her, reciprocating shyly.

As nice as it is to kiss pretty girl, body need air. I reluctantly break our lip-lock, panting softly. I can’t see my face, but I can tell its red enough to give off steam.

With a smirk that could give Trinity a run for their money, the Alv slooowly disentangles herself and stretches, her whole body arching and pushing various fascinating anatomical features into even greater prominence than before.

Before I can go into a full-blown ‘Gay Panic’, she sashays towards my door. “I’ll join you later, but I have a couple of errands to run first. Don’t worry, they shouldn’t take long!”

She slips out of my room, shutting the door with a soft ‘click!’ I stare, my heartbeat racing like an overclocked reactor. This girl is going to make me either melt into a puddle forever, or turn me into a disaster lesbian…

 

About an hour later, half of which I spent trying to calm myself down, I find myself walking the streets of Vassim, asking passers-by the way to the college. It isn’t too hard to find, thankfully, even for a new-to-town Argonaut like me. In the centre of the city, there’s an island of sorts, kept separated by bridges from each quarter, allowing for the college to act as a landmark for the whole metropolis.  Once I’ve gotten directions, I stop at a recently-opened food stall, grabbing something for a late breakfast/early lunch, before making my way towards the college.

Crossing the nearest bridge on foot, my path forwards is halted by an officious-looking guard in the same red-and-white armour as the city soldiery. His is far fancier, and speaks of nobility.

“Halt! What business do you have within the demesne of the Grand College of Vassim?” he burbles pompously, his irritating little moustache quivering with self-importance. I can already tell, he’s going to be trouble.

“I happen to have a unique and rather exceptional tome that I believe the learned folk within may find to be of interest!” I smile, taking care not to show my opinion of this sweaty, arrogant so-and-so show on my face. He holds his hand out impatiently.

“Well, hand it over! I’ll be the judge of that!”

I simply smile and wait for him to react, his face steadily reddening. It takes all of a minute for him to explode.

“I said, HAND IT OVER! What the devil are you playing at, wench?!”

I smile. “Oh, can you read Cloudscript, then? If not, then I suggest you fetch someone who can.”

“C-Cloudscript?! What nonsense is this?? Only the masters of the Grand College can read such an ancient language! None but the Skyborne themselves can scribe in such a tongue! And you claim to have a book in such a hand?!”

I smirk. “Not only do I have such a volume, I can read it, too.”

He goes even more ostentatiously-puce. He opens his mouth, sucking in air in preparation to bellow more invective, and, with a booming, rustling SNAP, I manifest my wings, unfurling them in a single, awesome flex.

“Do you understand, you blithering, frog-faced troglodyte? I. AM. SKYBORNE! Now, be a good little toad and hop inside to fetch one with more brains than you.”

With a look of absolute indignation on his moustachioed face, he turns and stomps away, barking at anyone in his path. About an hour later, he returns, still seething, a very old man in long white robes in tow.

 I swing my leg idly, sitting on the bridge’s support, working through the food I’d bought on the way.  In one hand, I’m holding a large, folded flatbread, stuffed with mushrooms, onions, and cheese. In the other is a long, sturdy skewer, chunks of peppers, red onions, chicken, and courgette impaled on it before being grilled and slathered in a thick, sweet-and-spicy sauce. My mouth is burning, but in a very pleasant way, as I tear another mouthful from the bread, chewing voraciously.

Sure enough, my casual disregard for his ‘authoritah’ triggers Mr. Grumpy-Shorts to explode, deriding me for ‘having the ill manners to eat while on College territory’ and ‘showing a flagrant lack of decorum’.  He’s almost stamping his foot in rage! Winding this guy up is hilarious!

Finishing my skewer, I stuff the last of my stuffed flatbread into my mouth and scrunch up the paper it’d been wrapped in, fixing the ball to the pointy end of the skewer. With a lackadaisical toss, I launched my makeshift ‘arrow’ at him, bonking him on the nose. He freezes, and then goes silent. The hoary old man in robes gestures at me.

“Quickly, miss. We should get out of here before he comes to his senses!” he calls, his hoarse, whispery voice barely audible, and I nod, beating my wings to get some lift, before vaulting over the currently-comatose, but still-upright Mr. Grumpy-Shorts. Following the decrepit old geezer, I offer him my arm to steady him.

“My thanks, young lady. I must say, it’s been a fair while since one of the Skyborne visited us here. I apologise for Captain Silas, he’s… well, very much ‘up himself’, as some of our junior acolytes say.”

I giggle, “Oh, I can see that. I didn’t hand over the book because I suspected he’d chuck it into the river if he couldn’t read it!”

About twenty minutes later, my elderly escort giving directions, we arrive in a comfortable, bookshelf-laden room. A desk and a cozy armchair take up most of one wall, and the room is both lit and warmed by floating globes of magic, each one a pale white, heat emanating from them and keeping the room nice and toasty.

The old fellow releases my arm and toddles over to his chair.

“So, I hate to be a bother, but may I ascertain that you do indeed possess a book written in Cloudscript? I am the College’s foremost linguistics professor, Jerome Templeton. And you are…?”

“I’m Kettrin, and yes, here you go, sir.” I produce the diary, proffering it to him, as he dons a tiny pair of crystalline spectacles.

Taking the book, he places it down and opens it, squinting down at the pages.

“Oh, my dear Lords… this is unquestionably Cloudscript! And… oh… oh. So, that’s what happened to you… this is my great-great-grandfather’s diary. We always wondered what became of him…”

I ask, “How fluent is your Cloudscript, Professor? Mine is perfect, if you need any assistance?”

He nods. “That would be much obliged, thank you. Cloudscript is one of those languages that a non-native will have considerable trouble with.”

Picking up the diary of Zakariah Templeton, I clear my throat, perching on the edge of the desk, and begin reading…