5. A Good Start #4
If the city hadn't been so beautiful at night, he would have surely burned out.
Failed. Returned to Argosin, or worse, to his mother's home.
But New Hieroph thrived after dark. Streetlamps and lanterns of many styles—stained glass fronts, green copper cages, wooden torches—lined every avenue and bathed the city in a warm glow.
The tallest towers climbed high overhead with windows above that blinked off and on as the city went to sleep, woke up, and went to sleep again.
Nights like this one, where misty rains bathed the flagstone sidewalks and cobblestone lanes and the autumn air smelled crisp, Aria could have wandered with his umbrella for hours without complaint.
It was so beautiful and strange. The veil of magic that covered the world was strong here.
Aria’s own gifts came to him with blessed ease, which allowed him the ability to create a bubble around them.
Noble’s warmer body temperature filled the air, keeping them comfortable.
And even better: he didn't even need to hold his own umbrella to stay dry.
Noble had it, holding it high above their heads as they strolled.
They'd fallen quiet, walking shoulder-to-shoulder down Histonian Lane—taking in the cozy brownstone townhomes belonging to many of Noble's peers.
This was one of Aria's favorite streets, as the trees lining the sidewalk reached as high as the five-story homes, and dropped leaves the size of dinner plates.
The leaves softened each step he took and, on occasion, he got to enjoy that familiar, pleasant crunch underfoot.
Aria broke their peaceful, prolonged silence.
“These homes are lovely. I love the metalwork on this one here.” He gestured to the wrought iron fence featuring a number of bronze woodland creatures dancing across the top.
He'd never be able to afford a place like this, but at least he'd gotten to live with Ellor for a time. “Which neighborhood are you in?”
Noble said, “Harbinger Bay.”
At the northeast point of town. They actually could reach it if they continued up Histonian Avenue.
Granted, it'd take a half hour. And then, as if to make a point, the Hieroph Tram rolled by, bell ringing.
If Aria and Noble hopped onto the tram, they'd reach Noble's place in ten minutes at the most. Its small red carriage swayed on the in-ground tracks, and the open sides offered silver poles that pedestrians may grab to come aboard if they like. It was run by elven magic, just like the rest of the city. No wonder Aria’s soul called to this place.
No wonder Aria’s soul felt more settled on this walk. He asked, “You’ve a home near the water, then?”
Noble nodded. “Yes. On it. I've a jetty that doesn't get used.”
“How nice. Lucky for you that you got to keep it.”
“I would rather have my wife than the house, but…"
“You say that,” Aria tucked his hands behind his back, warming them together. “But moving is a bear. Trust me.”
“You were living with Ellor, you said?”
“Yes.”
“You just moved out.”
“I did.”
Noble whistled in sympathy. “Moving isn't too bad unless you've just done it. Give it a week, and you'll have already forgotten how hard it was. That type of feeling never lasts long.”
“A week? Surely not.” Aria had moved many times over the years—as rents went up, or buildings came down, or his relationship with Ellor grew more serious. “At least six months.”
“How long did it take you to forget that you hated me?” Noble asked, raising an eyebrow. Aria narrowed his gaze at Noble's profile. Noble smirked. “Well?”
“I'm calculating.” Aria paused. “From the first time or the second?”
Noble tossed his head back and laughed. There was something satisfying in hearing him laugh like this. Earlier in the afternoon, Aria thought maybe Noble's subdued manner was a permanent fixture. A residual of his time with his Virginia. “Where did you move to?”
Aria said, “I'm in a temporary spot. Sort of…a hotel? But I'm renting it straight from a kindly orc woman.”
“You'll have to move again soon.”
“Unfortunately.” Aria grumbled. “I swear—losing my job and moving around are the two things I've been the most stressed about. Losing Ellor? I barely feel that at all.”
“I envy you,” said Noble. “Sometimes it feels like my heart will never again feel that warm, satisfied rush of affection for someone. I'm not even excited at the prospect of having sex with someone new again. I don't want someone new.”
“Oh,” said Aria, pursing his mouth as Noble pointed out something he'd yet to realize yet.
“What?”
“I'd forgotten about sex.”
Noble moaned in put-upon despair. “Then I envy you even more.”
Aria bumped Noble’s shoulder with his own and smiled.
“No, no, I mean, I'd forgotten that being unattached has left me needing to find new attachments. I've been caught up in everything else. I'm going to have to go to bed with a new man?” He’d never even thought of any man who wasn’t Ellor in five years. And they’d become trapped in routine at the end—
What if sex was different now? Had people come up with something new? Aria could have fallen to his knees in despair.
Noble burst out another laugh. “You look agonized. Come now! Sex is probably the best part of dating.”
Aria groaned. “Maybe I can do without. It’s all too much work.”
“If that’s your sentiment, then I fear your lovers have not been doing it right,” said Noble, and his smirk was unmistakable.
“Don’t,” said Aria, raising a finger to wag.
“What? I said naught.”
“You smile in visible glee over what you perceive to be Ellor’s poor performance.”
Noble’s smirk turned to a grin. “All I mean is that you’ve clearly not had it good. If you had, well… You certainly wouldn’t utter the words ‘do without.’ I could never.”
Aria rolled his eyes. “That much is clear.”
Noble’s smile flagged as they continued to stroll. After a beat, he asked, “Does your bed not get cold at night? Does your home not seem horribly quiet?” Noble sighed. “I hate living alone.”
Aria opened his mouth to remark how he was surprised Noble hadn't yet slept with a woman, now that he was divorced. He thought better of it.
Noble eyed him for a second before a teasing grin made his black eyes flash like a storm. “You've matured a bit in your old age, Aria.”
Aria huffed. “My old age? I'm thirty-one.”
“You, at twenty-one, would have made a remark about how surprising it is I've not already brought someone to bed.”
Aria didn't miss a beat. “And you, at twenty-one, would have already brought someone to bed.”
Noble blinked a few times, like he hadn't considered the behavior of his younger self, and then—he laughed again. Another rumbling sound from his chest. The umbrella swayed above them, nearly falling off course.
And Aria couldn't believe how he enjoyed the sound. Noble was right—he was different from his younger self. “But I am sorry, Noble. That you've found yourself alone. What about your Morgan? Surely he’s around often enough.”
“He doesn't live with me.”
Aria smiled and said, “You could have him move in. Bachelors do it often enough in the city, from what I understand.”
“Oh, we went down that road long ago.” Noble straightened up and continued to walk.
“He lives at the Guardianship dorms and has said he's going to leave for his spouse and his spouse alone.” Aria understood.
The Guardianship represented soldiers, scientists, wizards, and anyone with former combat experience—fighters dedicated to their craft.
Living with a friend would compromise their work.
“I didn’t realize he was untitled.”
“Many don’t.” Noble shrugged. “It’s one reason the gossip has been so…"
“Strange?”
“Off-putting. I’ve never been good at sitting on the fence of the nobility-peasant divide.
Everyone is whispering about how I don’t care about my title, because I don’t.
But my blase attitude has compromised my position within society.
I may never get a wife, now, because I’m seen favoring peasants. ”
“Well, us peasants aren’t exactly pleased to be called peasants, either.”
Noble sighed. “Morgan would have my head if I called him that, yes.”
“You said he’s seeking a spouse. Not a wife…?” Aria gave Noble a once-over, curious.
“Morgan’s open to any and all. He’d kept company with a nice young elven man for a time.
I don’t think you could call him kinsme.
” Noble’s face grew dark with a blush. “I guess I don’t know.
I mean, Morgan’s a horn-bearer anyway, and kinsme is an elven word, so it may be offensive to use it in such a way, and—"
It was Aria's turn to laugh, cutting Noble’s uncomfortable rambling short. “You really haven't the language to discuss this gracefully, My Grace.”
“Ugh. Don't call me that, even as a joke,” Noble said, lip curled. “That's the worst one of them all.”
“But you're usually graceful,” Aria replied. “It suits you well.”
Noble tried to pout, but couldn't contain himself.
He grinned, once more, and bumped Aria's shoulder like Aria had done before.
“We never discuss these sorts of things in my family—both sides. I didn’t even learn the word kinsme until I was living in Argosin.
My family has only ever had one expectation of me: get a nice, well-to-do wife.
Honestly, discussing anything otherwise—taking a man as a spouse instead—would be impossible.
We're supposed to breed. That’s the role of those descended from the Sun God.
It's our single commandment from above. Have kids.” He sighed.
Groaned. And shook off the thoughts. “I've honestly mucked up my family's few requirements for me by losing Virginia like this.”
“You'll find someone new, and they'll be happy for you, I'm sure.” Aria meant it. He reached up, and placed a hand upon Noble's arm that held the handle of the umbrella above. “You're going to enjoy the process. Remember that part. Someone new in bed?”