Thalia followed Cyran to the roof, curious as to what could await her up there. The air was still musky and gross, but she didn't care. It was warm enough that all of the smells from the environment were starting to rise and be particularly pungent. It was strangely comforting… or maybe she was just too drunk to care about the smell. She did have the forethought to make sure he wasn't stepping in anything that could muss up her boots. For someone so abrasive she seemed to care quite a bit about her appearance.

Cyran opened the door to the top of the small tavern with some sort of charm, fascinating Thalia for a split second before he checked to see if the top of the roof was steady. Being invited up, Thalia climbed up in a heartbeat, being greeted with a brand new view. Her eye went wide at the sight of the very different but oddly majestic view of Lilicors Village. Strangely, something told her that it didn't matter how many times she saw somewhere new; she would always be fascinated by new sights, smells, and sounds like this.

“Woah…," is all she manages as she just barely catches Cyran’s advice to be quiet. A small part of her childhod brain was slightly fearful of the idea of birds coming near her, but she supposed it couldn't be that bad… right? “Right.” She answered aloud, taking the spyglass from Cyran with a brief nod of thanks.

Standing on tiptoe, though she really didn't need to, Thalia looked through the trees. She was stunned, seeing the small and big birds alike move and fly around, some returning to their nests and others just freely gliding around each other. Some of them were fighting as well, or at least that's what it looked like. Thalia wondered if birds were smart enough to play with one another… they had to be right?

Something caught her eye though. It was a nest, much like the other ones that she had seen sprinkled in the trees and very hard to see. This one was closer though, and Thalia most likely missed it because of her eagerness to see everything, but her eye went wide.

“What is that?” She whispered, leaning forward a little bit more to see further.

Then there was movement. Thalia panicked for half a second, standing stock still when suddenly what looked to be the head of a sleek, black bird popped up from the nest. It perched on the edge of the nest, with its bird feet transitioning into some brilliant white feathers on it's legs and underbelly. It's flying feathers were green and blue, gleaming and reflecting light off of them. What surprised Thalia the most though was the fact that its body didn't stop there. The creature stretched like a cat, flapping its wings before taking off into the air. It was then that she realized that whatever it was, it had a second pair of legs, feline and black and sleek. She never remembered reading that in her books. Since when did birds have two sets of legs??

Whatever it was, it was absolutely beautiful… and terrifying. She had never seen anything like griffonbirds before, much less magpie griffonbirds. Were they supposed to have that many legs? Why did they have that many legs? Are they supposed to be that cute? Thalia only recognized what it could be because of her very limited knowledge of corvids, but she was positively overwhelmed. “O-Oh my gods… is that what you were talking about? It looks so strange.”

Thalia moved the spyglass from her eye to look at Cyran. “Are they supposed to look like that? I thought they were just birds…” The question was rushed, and she immediately hyperfocused back on the now flying creature. Whatever it was doing it seemed pretty carefree, mingling with the birds in the sky and flipping in the air. Everything about Thalia’s body language screamed eager and excited, trying to follow every movement it made while simultaneously trying to stay as still as she possibly could. She could also hear the melody of bird song, the moon elf growing more and more curious as it flew through the air. It was far enough that if it could see them, it didn't have to worry about their proximity.

In contrast to Thalia’s hesitance, Cyran looked completely at ease on the roof, watching the birds dance through the air with a serene smile on his face. It was a beautiful thing, he thought, to be able to soar through the air in such a graceful way, unshackled by the burdens of life. To sing with wild abandon, and dance with others in a rhythm that only the two of you knew.

All of these sights were completely new to Thalia, who was watching a little family of birds in the trees - one in particular that had ambled up to the edge of a nest. It looked like a magpie, had all the traditional markings of one, from the brilliant blue and green wings to the black feathers dotted along its back. Cyran’s eye sparkled with barely restrained delight when he spotted what she was pointing out.

“Oh, this is a treat! Those are known as songbird griffons. They are cousins to regular birds, of sorts… like magical creatures that closely resemble true songbirds. But they differ from normal birds in that they are all capable of perfect mimicry. Beautiful, aren’t they?” As he spoke, the bird took off into the air with a beautiful cry, spreading its wings in the air. Cyran’s gaze followed its path, flipping and twirling and dancing with other birds. “See the wings? And you heard its cry? That’s a griffon magpie.”

As he sat still, one of those curious four-legged avian beasts fluttered up to him, a squat creature with majestic gray feathers, and perched itself on Cyran’s head with a little squeal. Cyran didn’t look particularly surprised at this development - usually, if he sat still and silent enough, on rare occasions he would be graced by particularly brave and curious birds using him as a perch. The bird settled in, plucking at Cyran’s hair as if to make a nest out of it.

The minutes seemed to meld together while they sat still, merely watching the birds. Much to Cyran’s delight - and probably Thalia’s bewilderment - the griffon magpie fluttered through the air, curious about the two elves on the ground that seemed harmless enough. It pinned its wings to its back and dove through the air, making its way to the roof. The little magpie landed on the side, demeanor not unlike a cat as it sat, watching Cyran and Thalia with wide, dark eyes.

It let out a curious cheep, tilting its head to the side.

Cyran slowly straightened, holding out his palm with deliberate, nearly-imperceptible movements as not to disturb the creature. Holding his outwards towards Thalia, he manifested a small, burlap bag tied with a cord into his hand.^[1]

“Look!” He whispered, excited. “I think it’s curious. Why don’t you try feeding it?” He offered Thalia the bag of birdseed, clearly giddy about this development.

---

1. Summon: Possession

“Songbird griffons?” Thalia repeated, bewildered as she watched the beautiful creature soar through the air and let out a pretty cry. She’d never heard of such a thing, not that she was opposed by any account. This day was full of surprises, wasn’t it? Thalia wondered if Eclipse City had any of these, though she supposed she would probably see them around more often if she did. She hadn’t even seen a magpie before today, and that one was hardly considered a traditional bird.

Speaking of, a songbird griffon had swooped down onto Cyran’s head, claiming its perch in his hair. Thalia had to drop the spyglass from her eye, turning to look at the strange creature finding comfort on the unmoving moon elf beside her. He seemed completely nonplussed, if not quietly delighted by the happenstances. The griffon in Cyran’s hair resembled a grey cat of sorts mixed with an unfamiliar grey bird with a thin beak, toying in his hair. Thalia’s shock morphed into delight as she looked between the bird and Cyran, a huff of laugh escaping her.

“It…kind of looks like you.” She observed, her voice drawing the small griffonbird’s eye, watching her curiously. Thalia pointed between it and Cyran. “Same mannerisms and expressions…weird.”

At the comment, Thalia found herself laughing quietly behind her hand, unable to draw her eyes away from the two for a while. Then she heard a cry, melodic and close. Looking up, the moon elf woman’s eye just caught the griffon magpie getting closer. Her face was suddenly between confused and mildly alarmed, and when it landed in front of her on the lip of the roof, Thalia’s expression was dumbfounded. It was…looking at her?

Thalia almost took a step back, unsure how to feel as she held the spyglass to her chest, mildly defensive. Cyran’s voice encouraging her to feed it snapped it out of her mildly frightened state, turning her head to look at the bag of birdseed. “Feed it?" She blinked. Oh…oh? Ohhh. Obviously. Birds like seeds, obviously.

The magpie griffon was watching Thalia fumble with the bag, opening it and dumping a few in her hand. The creature suddenly seemed even more interested, inching closer still, its front feet hanging over the edge. Thalia was having a small crisis/panic attack, trying not to scare it away as she slowly extended her hand to it, watching its strange head tilt to look at what was in her palm.

She had thought that it would simply take from her hand, craning its strange avian head forward to take its fill and leave once it realized how off her energy was. Instead though, once Thalia’s hand was directly in front of it, the corvid griffon reached its front birdlike legs forward to hook onto her fingertips. Its slick, black cat legs were propping it up, and it leaned down to pluck some of the seeds in Thalia’s hand. Between every pick it would let out a nearly silent squeak in the back of its throat.

The moon elf was stunned into silence. Was she…was she dreaming? Thalia was frozen in place, staring at the strange creature peck from her hand. The only reason she remembered that Cyran was there was because the bag and spyglass in her other hand were not hers. The magpie griffon didn’t care, evidently. It was probably naturally sociable. It paused in between bites to look up at Thalia, blinking its black eye at her. She blinked back, and it tilted its head. She tilted her head as well, an automatic reflex. Thalia didn’t realize that they were mimicking each other until it returned to the seeds.

“It’s so pretty…” Thalia whispered, watching the magpie griffon as it emitted a happy squeak between swallowing seeds. “Do they usually do this?”

Cyran had to stifle a laugh at Thalia’s assertion that the creature atop his head resembled him. He didn’t think he’d ever been likened to an avian before, but it obviously amused Thalia. Amusement quickly soured and morphed into something like shock as the griffon magpie landed in front of her, hopping about on its four clawed feet as it approached the stranger. For a moment, she almost seemed fearful, and Cyran hesitated. Was Thalia afraid of birds? Had he accidentally exposed her to something she was uncomfortable with? But no, she’d enjoyed watching them through the sky. It was the proximity that was something new to her, then.

With gentle encouragement she took the bag of seed, pouring some into the palm of her hand. Cyran was tempted to tell her to place the seed on the ground, but any instruction he might have offered died on his lips as he watched the small magpie amble up to her, inspecting her offering with glimmering, curious eyes. It started snacking on the birdseed, letting out a couple curious chirps as it assessed the elven woman feeling it.

“I’m not quite sure what is considered normal behavior for a magical creature.” Cyran shrugged, his voice low as to not disturb the slumbering creature that had made its home in his hair. Other griffonbirds fluttered overhead in a tandem of elegant birdsong and fluttering wings: swallows, chickadees, sparrows, dark-eyed juncos, bluejays, and even other corvids. A beautiful symphony, far away from the two on the ground.

“But they usually stick to themselves and don’t get close to birdwatchers. If you ask me, I’d say you’ve made a new friend.”

As if to affirm Cyran’s words, the magpie fluttered its wings, finishing up its birdseed snack before taking off into the air once more. It was only gone for a few moments - when it returned, it clutched something small and round in its beak. It approached Thalia once more on talons and paws, before placing the object down at her feet. A shiny, gold button - a gift, for a favor repaid. Corvids were remarkably smart creatures, and they never forgot favors. It seemed this one had taken a liking to Thalia.

Its gift delivered, the magpie stretched, limbs moving in an almost catlike way as it balanced on its hind paws while stretching out its talons. The creature let out a cheep almost like a yawn before settling down near her.

Thalia was too afraid to move almost, listening to Cyran provide what little explanation there was for the magical birdlike animal that had chosen her to entertain. She wanted to look at him while he was talking, but the fear of scaring away something so new and confusing and beautiful was too great. Was she taking this a little too seriously? Just a bit. But she honestly couldn't think of any other way to take it; she had never seen a bird this close. This thing was only half a bird, and strangely friendly to her. It was hungry, so she figured that was why it was giving her the time of day.

The moon elf could hear the sound of a melody above, a sound of delightful ambiance that Thalia adored. Her smile had slowly creeped onto her face again, less fake and straining, and more excitable. She just barely caught the tail end of what Cyran had said, hearing the words “new friend” before the creature took off to the sky.

“You're kidding…” she mumbled to the air, staring at where it had been even if she was addressing the moon elf beside her. “It… it likes me?” There seemed to be a little more weight behind that question than it originally posed. “It” could be easily substituted for “something” and it would probably have the same heft to it.

It took barely any time at all for it to return, fluttering through the air and depositing a button at her feet. It was beautiful, even if it was something so small and seemingly insignificant to a regular person. When it curled up beside her, Thalia let out a shaky sigh, her smile turning heavy. Slowly, the woman moved to the ground, sitting with her legs crossed beside the corvid-hybrid, and experimentally running a crooked finger down its back. The reaction of it was instantaneous, emitting a drowsy trill from its throat and bumping its head into her fingers.

Thalia’s expression was pinched, like she was fighting the urge to cry and laugh all at once. Her other hand clenched and unclenched the items in her palm, an absent gesture as she tried to stifle her excitement to something minimal.

“Thank you, Cyran.” She said at last, her voice winded and achingly soft, blown away by everything she had experienced thusfar. A thought occurred to her then, unable to blame it on her being drunk as she was quite certain that this experience was quite sobering. Her gaze was melancholy, but resolute as she lifted it to Cyran. “My brother would’ve loved this, he loved going outside. We weren't allowed to interact with animals much because my mother said that they carried diseases, and we had really bad immune systems when we were little. But he was really smart, really sweet. I was born 30 seconds before him, yknow, twins.”

Thalia had to drop her gaze, shaking her head as she continued to pet the magpie griffon. Cyran had asked her to talk about her brother before, she might as well right? “We did everything together. He helped me and I helped him, but I always looked out for him the most. I was his big sister, after all. What kind of big sister doesn't look out for their brother, yknow? We were both weak, but he was fragile in here.” Thalia pointed to the region where her own heart resided, beating irregularly in her chest, “I don't really know how to tell you what happened, Cyran. One day he went and disappeared, my parents were mad at me because I'm in charge of him. He came back, but he was so different… he was really scary.

“We got into a fight and… it was awful. I don't remember it but… the rest of me does.” Thalia lifted her hand absently to the ribbon around her throat, the phantom sting of the various marks on her legs something strong. “It was really bad, obviously. What sucks more is that after that night I never saw him again. Technically I haven't seen him since he went missing the first time.”

Thalia dropped her hand to her lap, unable to look Cyran in the eye. This was a hefty weight there had been settling on her shoulders, only made heavier by her complete and utter fear of being told to stop. To stop talking, to stop everything. To leave. Her vision was suddenly blurry, and when she blinked she realized she was crying. No sobs emitted from her, just silence and white hot tears streaming from one side of her face.

“I don't know. He would have loved all of this, but… gods it's all my fault.” Thalia shook her head, sniffling as her voice remained gravely. The magpie griffon beside her had long since woke up again, watching her chittering to itself.

How heart-wrenching it was to watch the vulnerability of someone experiencing the love and affection of an animal. It was the simple kind of love - but unconditional. And as Thalia ran her finger down the griffonbird’s back with gentle administrations, the awestruck look never once leaving her face, Cyran only hoped she would get to experience more love and care from others.

He thought back to his own parents in Eclipse City. Their love, dried up when they realized that Cyran was not the ideal heir they’d hoped for. He wondered if Thalia had dealt with the same thing. The expectations, the disappointment. Not feeling like you were good enough, constantly trying to prove yourself. When you were conditioned to feel like that, the simple love from an animal was like a blessing and a curse all at once. This impossible gift that you had no idea what to do with, but would keep close to yourself all the same because you wanted more of that feeling.

To know you loved something and were loved in turn.

“Thank me for what?” Cyran blinked. “You don’t need to thank me for anything.”

And up here, in the quiet peace of the rooftop under the sky, a view for just the two of them, Thalia began to speak about her brother. With every aching word, uttered as if glass was stuck in her throat preventing her from speaking, it was clear how much Thalia loved her brother - still did. That was the kind of love that never left someone, no matter what happened.

Nor did the guilt.

Her shoulders shook as silent tears streamed down her face. Thalia was a few centuries old as far as he could tell - not much younger than him in the grand scheme of things - but it was difficult not to look at her and see a child, someone who so desperately needed someone to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Cyran reached out, as if trying not to startle an anxious bird himself, and grabbed her hand between his.

“Thalia. Listen to me. None of it is your fault.”

Despite the sadness etched deep into his face, his expression was calm. Sure.

“You could never be blamed for what happened to your brother. You are a wonderful sister, and compassionate and protective and everything I as a father would ever want my kids to treat their siblings with. But it is not your job to be his keeper… it should not be.”

He squeezed her hand. By her side the griffon magpie ran the side of its head along her leg. A curious little creature. It didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon.

“We cannot predict when misfortune strikes or what it might bring. It is horrible, what happened to him. That he went missing.” That he didn’t come back quite the same. “But you cannot blame yourself for things you cannot control. And despite that fear you felt when you saw him again, how scary he was… you didn’t leave.”

He offered her a small smile.

“You didn’t wrong him, and you stayed. Whatever happened to change him is the fault of whatever he encountered after he left. And he came back, and that fight… you did what you had to do to survive, and take care of yourself. And I am grateful for that. If you hadn’t saved yourself then I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting you today.”

And he was grateful for that.

Thalia would blame the crushing weight in her chest on the alcohol, like she did every day. Speaking about her brother, even if she didn't tell the full truth of what happened between them was grounds for her to feel gut-wrenching pain and guilt. Some days she wished that she really forgot the memories, everything from her childhood to the night of the altercation. And then a little more of everything, and even worse than that.

There was a way that Thalia's mother described it when she was a babe; memories were life lessons. They taught you how to get through whatever life threw at you, whether that be conflict, relationships of any kind, anything at all. Memories were in a way meant to scar, keeping a hold on the psyche so that one knows how to prevent them later. But why were there so many? Why did every single one feel like she was getting them for the first time?

Cyran touching her hand was strangely grounding, not scaring her as much as it should have. She couldn't look him in the eye, only flickering up meet his calming, kind gaze for a split second before it was too much for her. He was too kind, and it was equal parts frightening and calming. How could someone care this much? Could someone truly care this much? Thalia almost felt bad for the implication, a preserved part of her that's still believed that there could still be an alternative motive. But Thalia couldn't see it, so either Cyran was an exemplary actor, or people like him just existed. How fucking crazy is that?


She sniffled again, her hand trembling in his as he spoke. There was nothing there but earnestness and honesty, but it still frightened her. It scared her, even. A part of her wanted to retort midway through his sentence, but she couldn't find it in her.

Another disrupting sensation was the magpie griffon, rubbing its small head along her leg. The combined sensations made her heart heavy, and the one arm that wasn't occupied raised to wipe her tears. It was in just the same way as she had earlier, sniffling and stubbornly smudging the tears away from her eye. Again, she went to swipe underneath the eye patch, but there were no tears.

A part of her was starting to believe what he had said, until he got to the very last bit of his sentiment. He claimed that she survived, and took care of herself after the fight. She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling sick to her stomach. A part of her still blamed it on the whiskey, but that couldn't be it. It wasn't it. The part of her that wanted to let something catastrophic slip was just buried before she parted her lips to speak.

“Your daughter…” Thalia said instead, wetting her lips. Her smile was sad, still persistent to keep her peers at Bay even still. “She's one lucky girl to have you, Cyran. Her and your goddaughter, and whoever you have. Gods, I wish I had that.”

That last part wasn't supposed to be said out loud, but she couldn't be vexxed. It was the truth, unabridged in any way or form. Her father didn't operate much like a father after his son disappeared that first time; in that way they were similar, as both Thalia and G’Haan Fellstar felt that he died that day. From then on, her father treated her more like an employee than anything, an employee that he could yell at, degrade, undermine and point out every single shortcoming she had ever experienced.

“I'm glad I met you too, and… I'm sorry.” Thalia mumbled, not even registering that the magpie griffon had since started chirruping, climbing onto her leg when it saw the tears cascading down her face. It clawed at the beads around her waist, not interested in them but trying to get her attention in any way it could. The movement wasn't missed, and Thalia smiled down at the small creature, not even registering that it was in her lap. “Sorry for dumping all of this on you, and thank you for listening. You literally could've told to me shut up in there and you just didn't. That's more than anything I was ever expecting."

Thalia was still sniffling, but she seemed to be calming down somewhat. The griffon magpie nuzzled against her hand, grounding her. She was silent for a long time - no doubt processing what he was saying. When she spoke, though, her reply wasn’t what Cyran had been expecting at all.

He shrugged, a bit uncomfortable at the praise. He wished he could say the same, but the reality was that he was lucky to have Marlow. She was the one that had saved him. If he hadn’t had her, he doubted he would still be alive today. She had been his reason for living, for so long - and even after his exile, the thought of Marlow still continued to save him. She had always been his rock. He’d been the best father he could be… and he still left. Not of his own volition, but that didn’t mean Marlow wasn’t hurt all the same. He didn’t know how she felt about him, but he couldn’t imagine it was entirely pleasant.

“I appreciate your words. I just…” his hand resting in his lap clenched into a fist, momentarily, “I just want to be the best I can for kids that need it. Adventuring, traveling the world, doing what we all do… it’s not easy.” He sighed. Forced himself to relax, though he felt oddly heavy. Tired. “Hell, it’s hard on me, and I’m old. I know who I am, I’ve got myself figured out. But I know it’s not as easy for others. I just do the best I can to make sure that you know you do have that. You’re not alone.”

The last part, she clearly hadn’t meant to slip out - but Cyran heard all the same.

“You’re going to meet all kinds of people in your travels, Thalia. And for better or for worse, you will always carry a part of those companions with you. There will be hardships - by the gods there will be hardships. But I have faith that you will find love and care. I know you will, because somehow, someone as awful as me managed to find it.”

He bit back a small, humorless laugh.

“And you’ll always have me as a companion if you need it. I live in Darkveil - if you ever need safety, help, anything from me at all - send word to Shade’s Valley. I’ll be there in a heartbeat, okay?”

He shook his head, as if banishing her thoughts. “And there’s no need to apologize to me. I’m more than happy to listen. You only need ask, okay?”

It was odd, because Thalia wouldn't call Cyran old. The phrase “wise beyond his years” should have been able to apply to him, but it didn't seem like that was the case either. Elves, regardless of denomination, comparatively lived lifetimes upon lifetimes. For most elves that she had met, it was simply a fact of life that their lives were longer than most. Thalia stared at Cyran, and she saw someone who wasn't quite living a singular lifetime, but rather many wrapped up and aging him that way. That was part of why Thalia stopped counting her age, as the eyes were the windows to the soul and could tell the story better.

He wasn't old, but he had aged. And he continued to do so, even as he gave her such wise advice.

Thalia reached out first, unsure what she was about to do until her body responded for her. She then wrapped Cyran in a hug, much more assured than the first, not frantic or panicked. Her own years were coming back to her, even as she tried to forget. The way that she hugged Cyran was short, but meaningful. It carried gratitude, thankfulness, and above all understanding. It was odd, because Thalia fully believed in this moment, as she drew back from the hug and stared him in the eye, she was indebted to him. He was the first person to be nice to her since she left, and was already offering to be a companion in need.

“I will…” Thalia was smiling again. “Hope you don't, like, hate letters and stuff. Sometimes I just get into a creative mode and just kinda rant you know? So don't always expect for me to need something other than an ear if I write you. I guess it would be better than me talking your head off though.”

Thalia was back to being a little more chatty, a little buzzed but her mind strangely clear. A chitter and a particularly harsh scratch to her exposed waist caught her attention. The magpie griffon was basically demanding attention at this point, surprising the moon elf. She had expected it to take off by now, but it seemed awfully comfortable with her. Cyran had said that it liked her but…

“Wow you're nosy.” Thalia chuckled, petting the small creature as butterflies of excitement bubbled in her chest and stomach. It rubbed its face insistently on her, chittering that's strange little melody that it most likely picked up elsewhere. The woman tilted her head, humming the melody back to it before smiling. “You know what… I think I'm going to name you.”

The magpie griffon tilted its head as it listened to Thalia speak. She wondered if they could understand Common. “Phigaro, I think that's your name. What do you say you silly thing?” Thalia scratched under its chin with a nail, listening to it keen and chirp at her ministrations. She seemed happier, and she looked at Cyran. “What do you think?"

The last thing Cyran expected was for Thalia to give him a hug of her own volition. It was a short embrace, though a sweet one. And made all the more kind by the fact that Thalia had admitted only earlier this day that she hadn’t received hugs in so long. And yet, here she was, offering one in thanks. Cyran returned the embrace, patting her gently on the back before she pulled away.

“I don’t mind letters at all.” He assured her. “You can write or talk my ear off all you like. So long as you don’t mind equally long replies.” Cyran was generally a silent person who kept his thoughts to himself, but he didn’t mind offering more words in writing. And he was happy to receive any correspondence at all. Whenever he and his kids were apart from one another, they exchanged frequent letters of their comings and goings, and each one of them was added to a small box in Cyran’s office like a small treasure. Perhaps he was a sentimental person, far beyond what he ought to be, but these things were important to him. And if Thalia made good on her promise then he couldn’t wait to add those letters to the collection, too.

Thalia’s attention was pulled away by the sound of indignant chirping. The griffon magpie at her side still hadn’t left, and it didn’t seem to have any intention to any time soon. A small, nervous smile grew on Thalia’s face as she moved to pet the bird, who rubbed its face against her hand and warbled out a joyful melody. It seemed to have taken a liking to the young elf, so much so that it even seemed excited at the prospect of earning a name.

“Phigaro…” Cyran tried the name out for himself. It was a precious name, really, and based on the way the little daring creature started singing three harmonious notes, cheep-cheep-cheep, almost like it was trying to sound out the syllables of its name, Phigaro seemed to agree. “I love it. Take care of Phigaro, okay? You’re never truly alone with you have an animal companion with you.”

At least with Phigaro, Cyran could worry about Thalia a little less as she set out into the world. Over the course of their conversation, he’d met a young woman built from tempered glass - hardened against the harshness of the world, until you struck at her defenses at a certain angle, and she turned out to be quite brittle. And over that short evening, he couldn’t help but want to shield that brittleness from the world. She reminded him so much of himself, in odd ways… and more than anything, he wanted to protect that happiness as much as he could.

He would try as much as Thalia let him. She deserved that much.

Thalia was somehow relieved when Cyran said that he would likely match her energy if she were to send for him. She used to send letters to her mother, but after a while she stopped responding. It further discouraged her from writing, but it was nice to know that someone would want to write her with just as much enthusiasm. This was all really exciting for her, and it really showed in her energy. She would make sure to send Cyran as many letters as she could.

She could feel Cyran’s eye on her as she suggested a name for the small bird creature, and for once she didn’t bristle. Thalia’s mood had somehow raised from good to great over the past…two hours? If that. Is that normally how friendships go? There’s no way one made friends this quickly…right?

“I’ll be sure to. I like, really don’t know what I’m doing but…” Thalia scratched the top of Phigaro’s head, listening to him coo and watching him almost aggressively rubbed his face on her fingers. It was so endearing that her cheeks hurt from smiling. It took her a moment to finish her sentence, riding the high of the night’s events. When she finally did respond, that giddiness that she entered the tavern with was back. “Ah it’s nothing I can’t handle, right?”

Phigaro, as he was now dubbed and taking in stride, chirped melodically at her. Then a thought occurred to Thalia, and she looked at Cyran, a spark in her eye. “We should have a drink. To new friends and newer experiences! Even for you.” She reached over to poke his shoulder playfully, and she picked up Phigaro and stood up. He seemed to fit right in with her energy, scrambling to climb up her back and perch on her shoulder, preening her hair. Thalia then grabbed Cyran’s arm, the songbird griffon atop his head disgruntled and chirruping indignantly as she pulled him to his feet with strength that belied her build.

Thalia briefly brushed off dirt and debris on herself and him, and then she grabbed his arm again. Sobriety was like self-control for Thalia: If you had it, you had it. If you didn’t, well neither did she.

“C’mon! Bet you can’t outdrink me.” She challenged happily, and she dragged Cyran, her new friend, back to the bar below. Her cold heart, irregularly beating in her chest, was soaring. Thalia was fairly certain that she wasn’t smart enough to write down the emotions she felt, so maybe she’d draw them.

The whole night while she got blissfully drunk all over again, she thought. Yellows and oranges, pinks and greens, and even some purples. Swirling vortexes of black, dark and mysterious. Dollops of white, like the stars above, no matter how hidden. People. Places.

Freedom. That’s what it was. That’s what she wanted.

Thalia wasn’t sure when she returned to her rented room, but Cyran was long gone by the time she registered the bed she was laying in. Her eye opened, multicolored circles dancing behind her lids; some too pretty to process. Some were colors she’d never see again, some she may learn to identify.

That creative spark inside of her was reignited, just as she knew it would, just as it was foretold. Phigaro stretched and climbed onto her shoulder, waking her up with a song and a nibble to her earlobe. Cheep-cheep-cheep! She grabbed some parchment from her satchel, already filled with reminders of what she needed to do by the end of the year. She only added one thing before she left the room, a smile on her face that rivalled the sun creeping over the horizon:


Buy watercolors.