While on break, a wyvern rider has an eventful night.
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Story
Zeist
A loser, baby
- Location
- Planet Namek
- Pronouns
- He/Him
As he swooped over the large white concrete platform while mounted on his golden wyvern Aurelian, Marco Belvia struggled to keep his eyes open and his mental link to Aurelian strong. Up ahead, a flying drone with a red clay target on it buzzed in the air. Marco clenched his fire-spear. One fireball from the weapon and the clay target would shatter…but strangely enough, this routine of his seemed more difficult today.
Marco had been doing drills at the training ground nonstop for the past few days. Work had thankfully not come up much – no crime required the presence of a wyvern rider, and the Valla city guard had done a generally good job of keeping things together. Yet save for the birthday party he was expected to attend the following week, he hadn't taken any days off in recent memory. And if anyone asked him why, he couldn't come up with an answer.
With an uncharacteristic lack of ease, Marco thrust his fire-spear forward. A blast of pure flame emanated from the spear's tip and hit the target straight on, shattering it. Despite the bleary-eyed look from behind his black helmet, Marco smiled a tired smile. Two more drones to go.
Marco clenched his fist, focusing his mental energy on the bond between him and Aurelian – together, they swerved to the right and blasted the second target. The blast hit, and the second drone shattered in a similar manner to the first. But just before Marco could thrust his fire-spear forward again, he felt his mind go blank – and instead of a precise bolt of raw flame, he set out a sputtering gout of smoke.
"Shit," he said, biting his tongue. As he careened towards the drone, he jabbed his fire-spear forward again – this time, a blast emanated from the tip and hit the final target square in the center. Breathing out an exhausted sigh from underneath his helmet, Marco steadied his mental link with Aurelian and steadily fluttered down.
When Marco made it down to the platform, the drone operator – a graying middle-aged man named Federico, who Marco considered a friend – stood there to greet him. But instead of his usual expression, Federico wore a look of concern. "Are you alright, Sir Belvia?" he said. "You seem to be rather out of it today."
"I'm fine, Federico." Marco hated being called Sir Belvia, but he understood the pomp behind the name. He took off his helmet to reveal his clean-shaven, almost boyish face, with wide blue eyes and messy light brown hair. "Just been working a bit hard, is all. Thank you for your concern, though."
"Working hard? You've been doing drills for three days straight." Federico cocked his head sideways. "Even the best wyvern knight's going to be no good if he's exhausted."
"Federico, it's fine, I assure you." Marco rubbed his temples. "I need to keep my skills sharp if – "
"I know it's unbecoming of me, but I really think you need some rest. The other wyvern riders can handle whatever comes this way." Federico's face knotted into an almost angry look of concern. "Trust me, you won't regret taking a day or two off."
Marco waved his hand dismissively – he didn't like being disrespectful to Federico, but he didn't like being imposed upon either. "I'll give it some thought. I really need to go now, though."
But later, as he changed out of the rest of his black plate armor and wiped sweat from his brow, Marco hummed to himself. Perhaps Federico had a point, after all; maybe it was time for a break.
Marco looked at the large black book in his hands. The title, which had been inscribed in ornate golden letters, was Heed Your Queen – the author was a certain Aloysius Salt, and the cover art was of a lady in a diaphanous white dress pointing at a bound, gagged, and shirtless man surrounded by apelike humanoids wielding wooden spears. Idly, he wondered if Mr. Salt had less than pure intentions while writing said story.
For his adventure of the day, Marco had chosen a quaint bookstore called Red Read Reading. He'd seen said bookstore on one of his aimless excursions throughout Valla, and he'd made it a point to visit the place someday. And today, on his day off, was as good a day as any.
With a roll of his eyes, Marco returned the book onto the shelf. He wasn't going to be caught dead reading such obscene material, especially when he had a reputation as an upstanding wyvern rider to maintain – for God's sake, he even had a ball to attend later that week. Fortunately, the book had a much wider selection for him to choose from than pseudo-pornographic novels. He reached for a title some ways away from where he was…
…only for his hand to bump into a woman's. Marco pulled his hand back, then looked at the woman whose hand he'd accidentally touched – and when he saw her, he felt his heart skip a beat.
She was a dark-skinned woman with soft features accentuated by her round spectacles and the kind smile on her face. Her brown shoulder-length hair had been done up in a long ponytail, and she'd downplayed her slender hourglass figure with a simple white blouse and a pencil skirt. Marco smiled awkwardly. Well, wasn't today a fine day to run into a beautiful foreign woman.
"Um…sorry, miss," he said in Eldrosian, his face flushing despite his attempts to remain composed. He suddenly felt underdressed for the occasion; his short-sleeved blue tunic, gray breeches, and brown boots seemed unbecoming before a woman so beautiful.
"It's fine," said the woman in perfect Zantilan, albeit in a soft voice and with a thick Nadji accent. "You know, that's the last copy of Heed Your Queen we have stocked. Are you sure you want to return it?"
Marco tugged at his collar. "I'm sure," he said back in Zantilan, not wanting to admit that the cover had drawn his interest in the first place. "I take it you work here, miss?"
"I own this place, so…yes." The woman chuckled. "We're a little short-staffed today, so that's why I'm working the shelves. The usual man working the shelves had a small medical matter to attend to."
Marco nodded – then realized he'd forgotten to introduce himself. "By the way, I'm Marco Belvia – and yes, this is my first time here. You?"
"Vamika Chokshi." Vamika batted her eyes, and Marco suddenly felt more heat rise to his face. "Good to meet you, Marco. Would you like a few tamer book recommendations?"
Marco nodded – and without a second's delay, Vamika pulled out a few titles and showed them to him. "Why don't you follow me to the counter and we can look over a few of these," she said, her voice turning a pitch lower.
They talked for a good few minutes after that, mostly about books and inconsequential things. Then, in the middle of their conversation, a middle-aged woman walked into the store. "Excuse me, ma'am. Are you open today?" she said to Vamika, as she adjusted her own circular glasses.
Vamika clapped her hands. "Oh, of course! Apologies; this man just needed some assistance with his purchase," she said, as she slipped a small piece of paper into the book Marco had chosen. "What can I do for you, miss?"
After saying a polite goodbye to Vamika, Marco walked out of the shop and looked into the book. Scrawled on the small, torn piece of paper was Vamika's number. With a pump of his fist, he closed the book and held his head a bit higher.
It didn't take Marco long to get there, and it was an even simpler matter to spot his date. Vamika stood in front of the bookstore wearing the long green dress they'd picked out during their first date shopping together. "Oh, good – you're on time," she said, as she checked her wristwatch and began to board the carriage. "Come on; we don't want to keep the other guests waiting."
Marco smiled, then helped Vamika into the carriage. "Are you sure this is your first time at an expensive function like this?" he said, remembering that she'd said something to that effect on said date.
Vamika blushed and adjusted her glasses. "I was hoping it'd be my first time riding a wyvern, honestly."
Once they arrived at the Luschi estate, Marco watched Vamika's face light up – despite the earlier ribbing, he'd figured early on that this was her first time at a grand ball. Seeing an estate as opulent as the Luschis' would certainly have left an impression on someone from Vamika's middle-class Nadji immigrant background.
Marco, who had been born and raised in the far-flung Toro Village until the age of thirteen, could certainly still remember seeing a lord's estate up close for the first time. But as said estate was his biological father's, he let that memory go unmentioned. It'd be unbecoming of him to flaunt his wealth so brazenly.
The carriage stopped. "Well, my darling – shall we depart?" said Marco, a calm smile on his face. Vamika nodded, then offered her hand to him.
Inside, the party had already started. Uniformed servants passed around flutes of sparkling champagne on trays, then bowed to each guest they served in turn. The long tables had been stocked high with all manner of food – the Luschis always did have a taste for foreign cuisines. Above everyone, the chandeliers shone down with incandescent light.
Idly, Marco noticed Vamika's face light up once more. "Is everything to your liking?" he said, not really needing an answer – when she gave an enthusiastic nod, he just chuckled. They ate dinner quietly, then spent some time in idle conversation after that, sometimes stopping to offer a polite hello or an introduction to some of the other guests.
Half an hour into their conversation, Marco heard a loud, deliberate cough. A fat, clearly drunken guest staggered to the center of the ballroom. "Hey, everyone!" he said, as he motioned towards the back. "The big boss has only one thing to say!"
Several figures in noticeably shabbier clothes came forward, each one crowding around the fat man. Marco's smile disappeared, replaced by a puzzled look. Had he seen this person before?
"Fortune smile upon everyone here – especially the good people who work for me!" said the fat man, with a frantic wave of his arms. Then he reached into his pockets and started flinging lira bills and coins everywhere. "Come on, don't be shy. Reach down and pick up a few! They're all yours!"
That proved to be enough for the people around the fat man to start getting on their hands and knees, each one frantically picking up the lira bills that he had sent flying into the air. Marco turned pale, then felt his face redden. He adjusted his seat, then began to stand up – but before he could do so, he felt a hand on his chest.
As he stopped, Marco looked to the side. A stern Vamika looked dead into his eyes, then closed her eyes, shook her head, and lightly pushed him back down. The message was obvious. Marco sat back down, then took a deep breath.
The fat man's display continued for a good few minutes before he ran out. Once the last of his people had finished collecting the last stray coin, he laughed out loud and gave the person closest to him a hard pat on the back. "Never let it be said that Gordo isn't a generous man!" he said, as he waved one of his large fingers at the unfortunate soul. "Don't spend it all in one place, now!"
"Damn it," said Marco, as he squirmed in place. Then, despite his best efforts to contain his temper, he snapped to Vamika. "Come on, I'll take you back to your apartment. I've no appetite for engaging in this."
Vamika closed her eyes again. "I understand."
They spent the carriage ride back to Vamika's apartment in silence, with both parties looking out the window – Marco, for his part, spent his time tapping impatiently on the door. But when the carriage stopped, Marco spoke up. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he said, his tone soft and conciliatory.
"It is fine. Money does things to some people."
Marco sighed. "I wanted this to be a good evening for us, Vamika. I didn't want some boor to give you a bad impression."
"Who says it can't still be a good evening for us?" Vamika smiled; not a calming smile, Marco noticed, but a mischievous one. "Come on. Would you like a cup of coffee in my room?"
For the first time since he'd seen the boorish man's display, Marco smiled. "That sounds wonderful, Ms. Chokshi."
"You can just call me Vamika this evening, honey."
"Even tonight?"
"Especially tonight."
Marco stepped out, then told his driver to take the rest of the night off and followed Vamika inside. He did end up saying Vamika's name quite a few times that evening.
Marco had been doing drills at the training ground nonstop for the past few days. Work had thankfully not come up much – no crime required the presence of a wyvern rider, and the Valla city guard had done a generally good job of keeping things together. Yet save for the birthday party he was expected to attend the following week, he hadn't taken any days off in recent memory. And if anyone asked him why, he couldn't come up with an answer.
With an uncharacteristic lack of ease, Marco thrust his fire-spear forward. A blast of pure flame emanated from the spear's tip and hit the target straight on, shattering it. Despite the bleary-eyed look from behind his black helmet, Marco smiled a tired smile. Two more drones to go.
Marco clenched his fist, focusing his mental energy on the bond between him and Aurelian – together, they swerved to the right and blasted the second target. The blast hit, and the second drone shattered in a similar manner to the first. But just before Marco could thrust his fire-spear forward again, he felt his mind go blank – and instead of a precise bolt of raw flame, he set out a sputtering gout of smoke.
"Shit," he said, biting his tongue. As he careened towards the drone, he jabbed his fire-spear forward again – this time, a blast emanated from the tip and hit the final target square in the center. Breathing out an exhausted sigh from underneath his helmet, Marco steadied his mental link with Aurelian and steadily fluttered down.
When Marco made it down to the platform, the drone operator – a graying middle-aged man named Federico, who Marco considered a friend – stood there to greet him. But instead of his usual expression, Federico wore a look of concern. "Are you alright, Sir Belvia?" he said. "You seem to be rather out of it today."
"I'm fine, Federico." Marco hated being called Sir Belvia, but he understood the pomp behind the name. He took off his helmet to reveal his clean-shaven, almost boyish face, with wide blue eyes and messy light brown hair. "Just been working a bit hard, is all. Thank you for your concern, though."
"Working hard? You've been doing drills for three days straight." Federico cocked his head sideways. "Even the best wyvern knight's going to be no good if he's exhausted."
"Federico, it's fine, I assure you." Marco rubbed his temples. "I need to keep my skills sharp if – "
"I know it's unbecoming of me, but I really think you need some rest. The other wyvern riders can handle whatever comes this way." Federico's face knotted into an almost angry look of concern. "Trust me, you won't regret taking a day or two off."
Marco waved his hand dismissively – he didn't like being disrespectful to Federico, but he didn't like being imposed upon either. "I'll give it some thought. I really need to go now, though."
But later, as he changed out of the rest of his black plate armor and wiped sweat from his brow, Marco hummed to himself. Perhaps Federico had a point, after all; maybe it was time for a break.
***
Marco looked at the large black book in his hands. The title, which had been inscribed in ornate golden letters, was Heed Your Queen – the author was a certain Aloysius Salt, and the cover art was of a lady in a diaphanous white dress pointing at a bound, gagged, and shirtless man surrounded by apelike humanoids wielding wooden spears. Idly, he wondered if Mr. Salt had less than pure intentions while writing said story.
For his adventure of the day, Marco had chosen a quaint bookstore called Red Read Reading. He'd seen said bookstore on one of his aimless excursions throughout Valla, and he'd made it a point to visit the place someday. And today, on his day off, was as good a day as any.
With a roll of his eyes, Marco returned the book onto the shelf. He wasn't going to be caught dead reading such obscene material, especially when he had a reputation as an upstanding wyvern rider to maintain – for God's sake, he even had a ball to attend later that week. Fortunately, the book had a much wider selection for him to choose from than pseudo-pornographic novels. He reached for a title some ways away from where he was…
…only for his hand to bump into a woman's. Marco pulled his hand back, then looked at the woman whose hand he'd accidentally touched – and when he saw her, he felt his heart skip a beat.
She was a dark-skinned woman with soft features accentuated by her round spectacles and the kind smile on her face. Her brown shoulder-length hair had been done up in a long ponytail, and she'd downplayed her slender hourglass figure with a simple white blouse and a pencil skirt. Marco smiled awkwardly. Well, wasn't today a fine day to run into a beautiful foreign woman.
"Um…sorry, miss," he said in Eldrosian, his face flushing despite his attempts to remain composed. He suddenly felt underdressed for the occasion; his short-sleeved blue tunic, gray breeches, and brown boots seemed unbecoming before a woman so beautiful.
"It's fine," said the woman in perfect Zantilan, albeit in a soft voice and with a thick Nadji accent. "You know, that's the last copy of Heed Your Queen we have stocked. Are you sure you want to return it?"
Marco tugged at his collar. "I'm sure," he said back in Zantilan, not wanting to admit that the cover had drawn his interest in the first place. "I take it you work here, miss?"
"I own this place, so…yes." The woman chuckled. "We're a little short-staffed today, so that's why I'm working the shelves. The usual man working the shelves had a small medical matter to attend to."
Marco nodded – then realized he'd forgotten to introduce himself. "By the way, I'm Marco Belvia – and yes, this is my first time here. You?"
"Vamika Chokshi." Vamika batted her eyes, and Marco suddenly felt more heat rise to his face. "Good to meet you, Marco. Would you like a few tamer book recommendations?"
Marco nodded – and without a second's delay, Vamika pulled out a few titles and showed them to him. "Why don't you follow me to the counter and we can look over a few of these," she said, her voice turning a pitch lower.
They talked for a good few minutes after that, mostly about books and inconsequential things. Then, in the middle of their conversation, a middle-aged woman walked into the store. "Excuse me, ma'am. Are you open today?" she said to Vamika, as she adjusted her own circular glasses.
Vamika clapped her hands. "Oh, of course! Apologies; this man just needed some assistance with his purchase," she said, as she slipped a small piece of paper into the book Marco had chosen. "What can I do for you, miss?"
After saying a polite goodbye to Vamika, Marco walked out of the shop and looked into the book. Scrawled on the small, torn piece of paper was Vamika's number. With a pump of his fist, he closed the book and held his head a bit higher.
***
Once he had finished double-checking all his belongings, Marco walked out to the gates of his family's estate, where his horse-drawn carriage waited for him. A moment after Marco had stepped inside, the carriage took off in Red Read Reading's direction. He didn't want to keep his plus-one waiting.
It didn't take Marco long to get there, and it was an even simpler matter to spot his date. Vamika stood in front of the bookstore wearing the long green dress they'd picked out during their first date shopping together. "Oh, good – you're on time," she said, as she checked her wristwatch and began to board the carriage. "Come on; we don't want to keep the other guests waiting."
Marco smiled, then helped Vamika into the carriage. "Are you sure this is your first time at an expensive function like this?" he said, remembering that she'd said something to that effect on said date.
Vamika blushed and adjusted her glasses. "I was hoping it'd be my first time riding a wyvern, honestly."
Once they arrived at the Luschi estate, Marco watched Vamika's face light up – despite the earlier ribbing, he'd figured early on that this was her first time at a grand ball. Seeing an estate as opulent as the Luschis' would certainly have left an impression on someone from Vamika's middle-class Nadji immigrant background.
Marco, who had been born and raised in the far-flung Toro Village until the age of thirteen, could certainly still remember seeing a lord's estate up close for the first time. But as said estate was his biological father's, he let that memory go unmentioned. It'd be unbecoming of him to flaunt his wealth so brazenly.
The carriage stopped. "Well, my darling – shall we depart?" said Marco, a calm smile on his face. Vamika nodded, then offered her hand to him.
Inside, the party had already started. Uniformed servants passed around flutes of sparkling champagne on trays, then bowed to each guest they served in turn. The long tables had been stocked high with all manner of food – the Luschis always did have a taste for foreign cuisines. Above everyone, the chandeliers shone down with incandescent light.
Idly, Marco noticed Vamika's face light up once more. "Is everything to your liking?" he said, not really needing an answer – when she gave an enthusiastic nod, he just chuckled. They ate dinner quietly, then spent some time in idle conversation after that, sometimes stopping to offer a polite hello or an introduction to some of the other guests.
Half an hour into their conversation, Marco heard a loud, deliberate cough. A fat, clearly drunken guest staggered to the center of the ballroom. "Hey, everyone!" he said, as he motioned towards the back. "The big boss has only one thing to say!"
Several figures in noticeably shabbier clothes came forward, each one crowding around the fat man. Marco's smile disappeared, replaced by a puzzled look. Had he seen this person before?
"Fortune smile upon everyone here – especially the good people who work for me!" said the fat man, with a frantic wave of his arms. Then he reached into his pockets and started flinging lira bills and coins everywhere. "Come on, don't be shy. Reach down and pick up a few! They're all yours!"
That proved to be enough for the people around the fat man to start getting on their hands and knees, each one frantically picking up the lira bills that he had sent flying into the air. Marco turned pale, then felt his face redden. He adjusted his seat, then began to stand up – but before he could do so, he felt a hand on his chest.
As he stopped, Marco looked to the side. A stern Vamika looked dead into his eyes, then closed her eyes, shook her head, and lightly pushed him back down. The message was obvious. Marco sat back down, then took a deep breath.
The fat man's display continued for a good few minutes before he ran out. Once the last of his people had finished collecting the last stray coin, he laughed out loud and gave the person closest to him a hard pat on the back. "Never let it be said that Gordo isn't a generous man!" he said, as he waved one of his large fingers at the unfortunate soul. "Don't spend it all in one place, now!"
"Damn it," said Marco, as he squirmed in place. Then, despite his best efforts to contain his temper, he snapped to Vamika. "Come on, I'll take you back to your apartment. I've no appetite for engaging in this."
Vamika closed her eyes again. "I understand."
They spent the carriage ride back to Vamika's apartment in silence, with both parties looking out the window – Marco, for his part, spent his time tapping impatiently on the door. But when the carriage stopped, Marco spoke up. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he said, his tone soft and conciliatory.
"It is fine. Money does things to some people."
Marco sighed. "I wanted this to be a good evening for us, Vamika. I didn't want some boor to give you a bad impression."
"Who says it can't still be a good evening for us?" Vamika smiled; not a calming smile, Marco noticed, but a mischievous one. "Come on. Would you like a cup of coffee in my room?"
For the first time since he'd seen the boorish man's display, Marco smiled. "That sounds wonderful, Ms. Chokshi."
"You can just call me Vamika this evening, honey."
"Even tonight?"
"Especially tonight."
Marco stepped out, then told his driver to take the rest of the night off and followed Vamika inside. He did end up saying Vamika's name quite a few times that evening.