Chapter 70

Fey half-smiled in tired satisfaction and continued winging her way in a lap around the training cliffs. Due to frequent use of Self-Haste, her stamina had already been almost 200 prior to attaining the avariel form, and two days of almost continuous flying had pushed it steadily upwards.

Fey grimaced and glanced upward, where Leandriel was shadowing her flight, careful to maintain enough distance to avoid disturbing the air currents around her. While she had mostly gotten the hang of basic flight, landing was still rough and clumsy. She sighed and resigned herself to another ignominious crash.

Angling her wings, she began a gradual, spiralling descent; straight dives were for the skilled or the idiotic. Straightening her course when she was a length above the ground, she backwinged, stalling her forward momentum. Flapping once, twice, three times, her feet touched the ground and she was stumbling and… still on her feet.

Dismissing her wings, Fey took a moment to confirm that she had indeed landed without falling down. “…I did it!” she exclaimed, turning excitedly towards Leandriel, who had executed a much faster and more graceful landing after she was safely on the ground.

“You did,” he agreed, his grin sharing in her pleasure at the achievement.

In her excitement, Fey was moving around in what might be referred to as a ‘happy dance’ (if one were comfortable disrespecting the word ‘dance’). “I did it!” she repeated.

“Yes.” Leandriel’s smile gradually shifted from celebratory to amused at Fey’s childlike behaviour.

Fey’s abnormal motions gradually subsided, but the excitement remained. “Again!” she exclaimed, sounding remarkably like a four-year-old.

A hint of mischief entered Leandriel’s expression. “As you wish[i],” he said solemnly.

In a flash, he was behind her and they were springing into the air.

Fey yelped in surprise but quickly settled down, having at this point hitched many rides – though none quite this abrupt – to the top of the training cliffs.

Contrary to her expectations, Leandriel continued upwards past the cliffs to an altitude above most of the other practicing flyers. “Uh…” she ventured (articulately).

“I would like to try something,” said Leandriel with a hint of mischievous adventure still in his voice.

“Um, sure,” said Fey, her voice an octave higher than usual. She was almost entirely certain that Leandriel did not intend to sound as seductive as he did while speaking right next to her ear while holding her in a tight embrace. She therefore endeavoured to focus on the flying at hand (and was only moderately successful).

With her agreement, Leandriel slowly and carefully extended his arms until there was clear space between their bodies. “Summon your wings.”

Fey had a moment of visceral panic as her hindbrain insisted that she was about to fall to a messy death, but quickly realized that she was in no danger of being dropped. Taking a deep breath, she did as he asked. Her wings flashed into being at full extension as she caught onto Leandriel’s intent, and then she was gliding. She grinned.

“Shall I release you?” Leandriel asked, still supporting part of her weight.

“Yeah!” Fey’s wings swept down as the angel’s grip released, and then she was flying under her own power. She aimed upwards to regain height while Leandriel glided ahead. She let out a small whoop, then called, “Wait for me! I want to try something, too!”

Leandriel slowed his pace to one Fey could easily overtake. He glanced behind him curiously when she failed to pull even, finding her slightly behind and to his right.

Fey had in fact found the sweet spot where she could catch the updraft from Leandriel’s wingbeats in order to lessen the energy she needed to stay airborne. This phenomenon was what led to the characteristic V formation of flocks of migratory birds.

She laughed. “I’m a goose!” she called, having gained inspiration from the ubiquitous Canadian Geese she saw every year. (Silly goose.)

Leandriel chuckled and executed a slow, broad turn that Fey could easily follow. “I believe the term is ‘wingman’,” he called back.

“But I wanna be a goose!” Fey insisted, sticking firmly to her four-year-old mood.

Leandriel kept chuckling and did not reply, continuing with gentle aerial maneuvers as Fey continued riding his updrafts, their wingbeats synchronizing. For a few minutes, it was effortless and exhilarating and right – then some other avariels flew across their path, disturbing the air enough that Fey had to scramble to regain her place.

She mock-glared at the departing players, buoyant mood unbroken. She sent Leandriel a PM:

Fey aimed for the ground and failed to stay on her feet, which she had completely expected. (Twice in a row? As if.) She picked herself up, chuckling.

“What is so funny?” Leandriel asked, landing beside her.

“Nothing. I’m just having a lot of fun,” she said, turning a bright smile on the angel.

He smiled back. “So am I.”

If Fey’s smile was bright, Leandriel’s was almost blinding. Fey felt a distinctly strange (and honestly, rather unpleasant) sensation in her chest as her heart skipped a beat[ii]. She broke eye contact as naturally as she could.

***

Leandriel’s smile rapidly hardened into an expression of embarrassed wrath. He turned his face away from Fey and rapidly sent:

Leandriel was sending messages at the speed of thought, while Kevin’s typing skills on his speed-customized keyboard layout would qualify him to become a transcriptionist or court reporter[iii] if he chose to do so, so the entire exchange was over in a few seconds. Leandriel turned back to Fey, who did not seem to have noticed his distraction.

He cleared his throat, trying to resummon his happy mood. “So, again?” he asked.

“Hmm. I want to try one more thing.” Fey executed a straight leap several metres into the air and beat her wings rapidly, straining against gravity in a vertical takeoff.

Leandriel waited long enough to ascertain that Fey had indeed succeeded and settled into flight before he bounded up after her. “Are you okay?” he called, concerned about her pained expression.

“I feel like I sprained some muscles that don’t actually exist on my body, but I’ll be fine,” Fey answered with a cheerful grimace.

Leandriel winced in sympathy, having experienced a similar sensation with his first vertical takeoffs. “It goes away after your strength improves,” he said in consolation.

Fey winced at a particular wingbeat and began descending. “Okay, I think I need to land.” Her landing was one of haste rather than caution and she ended up falling on her hands and knees.

She dismissed the wings and made a disappointed face. “It hurts even though they’re gone,” she complained.

“Would you like to take a break?”

“Yeah.” Fey stretched her shoulders and winced again.

Leandriel guided Fey far enough away from the cliffs that they were unlikely to be hit by falling avariels and urged her to sit. “I have some limited healing abilities.”

Like all of his abilities, his healing was stronger at close distance and strongest with direct contact. He touched his fingers to Fey’s collarbone – her skin was so soft – and cast Healing Hand.

Fey sighed in relief, relaxing her posture and leaning back against a tree. “Thanks.”

Leandriel settled into a cross-legged position beside her. “You are very welcome.”

A peaceful silence settled over them as they enjoyed a respite from frenetic activity in the flying area. After a minute, Leandriel began to feel an invisible Lacey insisting he say something, or more specifically, ask Fey on a ‘real’ date.

“So… What are you planning on doing after this?” was what he managed.

“Hmm… Well, probably figure out this Tree-singing thing. I totally forgot about it when I got my wings.”

“Oh, so you have your Guardian’s Blessing at level 10,” Leandriel said, inexplicably pleased at the achievement.

“Well you did tell me to get it there,” Fey said with a raised eyebrow.

Leandriel thought he might vaguely remember giving her that particular piece of advice. “How long ago was that?”

“Hmm right around when I started playing, so around three months?”

“And you remembered?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you?”

Leandriel chuckled. “I have to admit that the memory is somewhat fuzzy at this point.”

“Oh.” Fey looked somewhat disappointed.

Leandriel felt compelled to add, “I have to admit I have been focusing quite a bit more on what you are saying than what is coming out of my mouth.”

“Oh?” Fey visibly brightened. “Like what?”

Leandriel chuckled. “Well, the first thing you ever said to me was to tell me I was wasting my healing potion on you after breaking your ribs.”

“Well, you were. Why did you use a potion when you have healing magic, anyways?”

“Holy element healing is less effective at bone fractures,” Leandriel answered. More honestly, he added, “And I was panicking.”

Fey grinned at the admission. “What else do you remember?”

Leandriel considered how to answer, his mind sifting through their dozens of brief, daily chats. “Well, aside from all of the useful advice you have given me, I’ve gleaned that you are a bookworm who considers herself quite clumsy despite attaining a red belt in tae kwon do. You very much enjoy adventuring in your imagination, but do not like going out. Small talk bores you, and you prefer to maintain a few close relationships over a large circle of friends. Your favourite colour is purple. You have an older sister who is almost your total opposite in personality and looks. You consider yourself quite pessimistic and cynical, although I have rarely seen you to be anything other than bright-eyed and smiling.”

Fey started looking down and away about halfway through his recitation, a faint blush rising on her skin. “Wow, I talk about myself too much.”

“You have an interested audience,” Leandriel reassured her.

“I don’t know nearly as much about you,” Fey confessed.

“I have not been particularly forthcoming about myself,” Leandriel readily admitted. He had not meant to hide anything; he just was not a person to naturally share. “What would you like to know?”

“Hmm.” Fey paused to consider. “What’s your favourite colour and why?”

“Red. I do not have a particular reason.”

“How do you feel about stuffed animals?”

Leandriel smiled at the expectedly unexpected question. “They are rather cute. I do not possess any at the moment.”

Fey nodded thoughtfully. “Why did you pick the guardian class?”

“It has a strong mix of offensive and defensive capabilities as well as physical and magical damage. This makes it a strong class for solo adventuring.”

“What’s your favourite food?”

“For a meal, I would have to say Japanese curry.”

Fey looked startled at the answer. He supposed it was a rather unusual answer given the lack of Japanese ancestry in his bloodline. He elaborated, “I first tried it at a friend’s house when I was fourteen. I do not have the opportunity to eat it very often, but it is delicious.”

Fey nodded to herself, apparently giving more thought to his words than he felt they deserved. “…Would you like to ask anything else?” he ventured.

“Mm… I can’t think of anything right now.”

Fey spotted something over Leandriel’s shoulder and waved, expression bright.

He turned to see an avariel with rich sable wings execute a textbook-perfect landing at the edge of the trees and then walk towards where they were sitting. Unlike Fey, who dismissed her wings whenever she was on the ground, this avariel chose to leave the magical constructs in place, a faint golden aura surrounding her feathers. She reached their position, choosing to remain standing.

“Hey, Mimi! Nice wings!” Fey greeted. “Nice flying, too, but obviously you’ve mastered it in three days.”

Mimi gave Fey a small smile, then nodded at Leandriel, expression neutral.

Despite her polite demeanour, Leandriel could not help but feel that the sniper disliked him. Or was it that he disliked her? Either way, he did not feel comfortable having Mimi stand over him and climbed to his feet as casually as he could. Fey followed suit in a graceful move that made outside help redundant, choosing to summon her own wings to match her company.

“Done?” Mimi asked.

“Pretty much. Leandriel’s a great teacher,” Fey said with a smile at him.

“You are a dedicated and talented student,” Leandriel countered honestly.

Fey dismissed the compliment as she always did, acknowledging his words politely and promptly forgetting them completely.

“Blade and Sirena want to hunt tree-stars,” said Mimi.

“…What are those?” Fey asked.

“They resemble starfish made of tree roots,” Leandriel answered. “They move deceptively quickly.”

“Oh, they need us, then,” Fey concluded. “I wonder why they didn’t just message me.”

Mimi did not answer. “Ready?”

“I guess. Leandriel, thanks so much for all your help. I really would have been hopeless at flying without someone to tell me what to do.”

“It was my pleasure,” said Leandriel, taken aback at how abruptly Fey was ready to leave but seeing no way to change the situation.

Ask her out on a real date, invisible Lacey insisted.

Fey was already turning to leave, Mimi a step ahead.

“Fey.”

She paused and turned back. “Yes?”

“Can I see you again?” There. He had asked. It was out in the open.

Fey’s expression was somewhat puzzled. “Of course.”

She had not understood his meaning. He wanted to swear but could not think of an expletive appropriate for the situation. Screw it. He pushed on. “Next week?”

“Next week?” Fey repeated. “Oh. Oh.” Her eyes widened in shock and understanding. “I, I… Okay.”

Grabbing Mimi’s arm, she all but ran away.

Leandriel was not at all reassured by the response, but she had said yes.

Magic emerged from his belt pouch. The mushroom had decided to hide there for the past two days, since he had learned the concept of ‘third wheel’ and decided he wanted his owner to ‘have a good date’. Leandriel suspected Lacey had had something to do with it.

“Did you have a good date?” Magic asked.

“I think so.”

“Did you get another one?”

“…I think so.”

“Good job, bro,” Magic said, the words sounding ridiculous in his high-pitched, articulate voice.

Leandriel chuckled. “‘Thanks, man’,” he replied in kind.

***

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod what just happened?” Fey asked frantically.

“Leandriel asked you on another date,” Mimi answered.

“Another? What are you talking about? Oh my god, was I on a date?”

Mimi nodded.

“It wasn’t a date! I didn’t know it was a date. Oh my god, it was a date. Oh my god. What is going on?” She stared up wrathfully at the sky. “How could you do this to me?” she railed at the developer gods.

Mimi wore a puzzled expression. “Who?”

“Whoever the [expletive] created Leandriel!” Fey cried, stomping the ground angrily as she walked. “This is emotional torture! I already decided I was going to stay away from him as much as I could!”

“Why did you go on a date with him?”

“It was flying lessons! I just wanted to learn!”

“I could have taught you,” Mimi said quietly.

“You only got them a day before— Oh, who am I talking about? Of course. That didn’t occur to me. Sorry, Mimi.”

Mimi did not react to the apology. They walked in silence for a minute.

“What are you going to do?” Mimi asked.

“Hope he forgets about next week?” Fey ventured hopefully.

Mimi just gave her a look.

“Okay, that’s stupid, I know. But I already said yes! Gaaaah.” Fey smacked herself on the head.

Mimi gently restrained Fey’s arm. “You can cancel.”

“Well, I could, but I actually can’t. I couldn’t even have said ‘no’ if I’d been prepared for this. He’s… Leandriel.”

A brief expression crossed Mimi’s face, too short to be interpreted. “Well, then, go.”

Fey looked at Mimi with a pained expression. “I have to, don’t I?”

Mimi nodded.

Fey sighed, agitation leaving her body. She draped an arm around Mimi’s shoulders and leaned on her friend. “Life is hard.”

Mimi nodded.

[i] In William Goldberg’s Princess Bride, the character Westley responds with “As you wish” to Buttercup’s demands of him, when his meaning is actually “I love you”. Whether Leander is aware of this story is unclear.

[ii] Palpitations, the sensation of an abnormally fast or forceful heartbeat, can be a symptom of a cardiac arrhythmia. Please seek medical attention if you experience prolonged palpitations or palpitations associated with other concerning features such as lightheadedness or fainting.

[iii] These professions require an individual to be able to type at the speed of speech, which is commonly is around 150WPM for regular speech but can be upwards of 200WPM when speaking rapidly. Keyboard layouts other than the standard QWERTY layout have been shown to give speed benefits by reducing the number of common letter combinations that require the same finger to be used twice in a row.