Sylar #2
“The Cloud Cake?” I ask, reading the sign in front of the stall with the long line.
“Yup. You still like sweets, right?”
I narrow my eyes. How good is his damn memory? “Mmm,” I grunt.
“The owner is a lovely little thing. I used to frequent her stall in the islands often. Trust me, you’ll love her Cloud Cakes.”
I choke on air, causing a few people to look our way. The smooth roll of his voice, combined with the blatant innuendo, is enough to short-circuit my brain.
So, the playboy rumors must be true. It makes sense.
Raylen has always been popular. In a culture like ours, where sexuality is celebrated openly and multiple partners are the norm, he fits right in.
Even in Moonscliffe, the town encourages us to lean into our desires.
Sharing our beds with more than one person is just second nature to most of us. Most being the keyword.
Would Raylen make fun of me for not having much experience or for being demisexual? No, he’s never been cruel. Still, I frown, keeping quiet as my thoughts whirl.
We both keep our cloaks drawn and hoods securely pulled low.
For me, the light fabric is a shield against the suffocating press of the crowd.
For Raylen, it’s a necessary shield against his own staggering fame.
At times, I forget just how sought-after he truly is.
The morning’s gossip sheets are already circulating through the market, filled with feverish speculation about whether the legendary archer of Moonscliffe has arrived to finally choose a spouse.
Something about that thought sours my mood. Is the owner of the cake stall a potential love interest? I am not jealous. I. Am. Not. Jealous. My frown deepens.
Raylen chuckles playfully, wrapping his fingers around my biceps as he did earlier. “Ah, there he is. The grumpy elf I’ve grown so fond of.”
“And there’s the flirty elf I remember,” I quip. It was meant to be an insult, but I swear it sounds like I’m flirting back.
He just smiles and shakes his head. “How long has it been, Sy? Two, almost three years?”
“Give or take,” I grumble. Why do I like the way he calls me Sy? It’s so familiar, almost as if we’re good friends. More memories of our time together in school come to mind. Those few times I’d opened up to him more than I’d opened up to anyone as a young teen.
Are we friends?
We approach the front of the stall, and I instantly tense when I see the pretty, curvy elf.
She’s beautiful, with large brown eyes and curly hair.
Next to my giant frame, she’s practically tiny, but I can’t help but notice that she would be the perfect height for someone like Raylen.
I tune out the quiet voice in the back of my mind.
The one currently pointing out exactly how perfect Raylen would look wrapped up in my arms instead.
He’s at least eight inches shorter than I am.
“Welcome,” she greets. “I apologize for the wait; it’s my first year here—”
Her words die off when Raylen pulls back his hood just enough so that only she can see his face.
“Well,” she says with a soft smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here today, Archer.
” A spade-tipped tail flicks behind her as it pulls something from the counter.
I can’t help but stare at her little body mod.
I’ve heard that some elves get magical modifications, but the extra appendage is truly amazing.
“Aisling,” Raylen greets. “I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Sylar Novari of Moonscliffe.”
Forgetting her tail entirely, I focus on Raylen. He isn’t teasing me. The sheer, open sincerity on his pretty face proves he really does view me as his friend, and the knot in my chest completely melts away.
He squeezes my arm, snapping me back to reality. Aisling is looking at me kindly; a patch of flour dusted on her forehead and nose. Her gaze drops to Raylen’s claiming grip on my arm. I don’t pull away, and she doesn’t look bothered in the least.
“Nice to meet you, Aisling. Ray—ah, I mean my companion here, was just telling me about your cloud cakes. Which one do you recommend?”
Suddenly, her entire face lights up. She dives headfirst into a passionate breakdown of the day’s special, gesturing wildly with her tail as she explains exactly how it differs from her classic cloud cake.
She completely loses herself in the description, and I can’t help but warm up to her.
There’s something so fiercely relatable about her.
She reminds me entirely of myself whenever I get going on celestial myths.
My stomach gives another loud rumble, and I peer over at Raylen, unsure which cake I want. The sun is high in the sky, and some of the elves behind us seem to be getting impatient. “Which one should I pick?”
“You’ll love the jewelberry cake. It’s a classic for a reason.”
I nod, grateful he decided for me. “That one.”
“We’ll take two.” Raylen hands her some money, including a generous tip.
“That was awfully kind of you. Thank you.” I’ve only been in this elf’s presence for a short amount of time, and yet he’s completely different from how I remember him.
He isn’t the cocky teen who liked to tease me.
I mean, sure, he’s still confident as hell, but it’s laced with a playful demeanor that’s quite…
charming. By the light, do I have a little crush?
Get over yourself, Sylar. This elf is completely out of your league.
He’s full of life and adventure. My heart lies with celestial texts and astrology books.
I live a quiet life in a cozy little cottage.
Entertaining something like a crush—especially on someone like Raylen—will only lead my heart down a dangerous path.
We find a quiet little alcove of bushes several feet away from the main path. It isn’t quite as hidden as our spot before, but it’s far enough away from prying eyes to drop our hoods. We take a seat, and I wonder just how many of these private little benches are placed around the marriage market.
Cinder trots over to Raylen and hops up next to him. “Hold on, you little monster,” he laughs. “I know how much you love jewelberry, but our guest needs to try his first.
My eyes widen. “Wait, why do I need to eat first?”
“Because, my precious little grump, you need this heavenly cake to lift your spirits.”
I harrumph. “I’m hardly little. I’m almost a foot taller than you.”
“And yet, you’re just as precious, all the same.”
I narrow my eyes and grumble half-heartedly. Such a flirt!
The first bite of cloud cake is absolutely heavenly. The cloud-like, fluffy texture is so warm and delicate that it practically melts on my tongue. I moan. “Oh, goddess. This is delicious. It’s just the right amount of sweetness.” My mood instantly lifts.
Raylen leans in, watching me savor the next bite, his eyes dark with hunger. Hunger for the cake or something else? I’m not entirely sure.
“How do you feel?”
“Just like you said. I feel…better.” I grin. “Truly! This cake has to be magical.”
We eat our cake in silence, Raylen sneaking every few bites to Cinder. After a long moment, Raylen speaks quietly. “I used to get overwhelmed in really big crowds too. I recognized it in you instantly.”
My face scrunches in confusion, and I shake my head. “You, afraid of a big crowd? The famous Raylen of Moonscliffe?”
“Yes,” he chuckles. “Even the famous Raylen of Moonscliffe has feelings.”
I wince. There’s a sharp, almost bitter edge to his words that makes me pause.
We aren’t the children we used to be. Hell, I’m nothing like the youngling Raylen grew up with.
I might be quiet, and I definitely have my grumpy days, but I don’t let people walk all over me anymore.
The days of letting others take advantage of me are long gone.
I catch the shadow of pain still hanging in his eyes. The urge to challenge him or shield myself with our usual playful banter fades. Instead, I let the silence settle between us and say, “Tell me about it.”
He studies me for a long moment. Finally satisfied with whatever he sees there, he nods.
“Growing up in Moonscliffe was always magical for me. After my sister and I lost our parents in a carriage accident, there was a brief moment in time when we thought we would never have a home again.” He clears his throat.
“Well, more like I thought we would never have a home again. Isolde was very young. Too young to understand.”
The urge to reach over and hold his hand is strong, and the thought makes me frown. Why am I feeling this way in such a short amount of time? Folding my hands together, I nod, hoping he continues talking.
“We were two noble elflings who lived a wealthy, spoiled life that even we can’t deny.
But suddenly our parents were gone, and I was left with this little child.
I didn’t understand the concept of money or how the world worked.
I didn’t know that all my parents’ wealth would be turned over to me.
All I knew was that my parents were gone, and so was my home.
All I knew was that we were going to become orphans until my aunt stepped forward. ”
I swallow hard. “I had no idea.” Goddess, what a horrible childhood. My respect for Raylen grows. I can’t imagine what I’d do if I were alone with Talia as a child.
“At that point in time, I didn’t even know I had an aunt,” he continues, toying with the pendant on his bracelet.
“Well, you know her. She’s the kindest soul anyone will ever meet.
But when she moved to Moonscliffe, she lost touch with my parents.
She was so busy running her apothecary, while my parents were busy starting a family.
Aunt Launi was never able to go back and visit her hometown, to visit my parents, or to meet the young children her sister gave birth to.