>>6099885You made a promise to yourself to never drink wine again, at least until your family is safe.
Thankfully, that promise does not cover other alcoholic beverages. And your Master’s special reserve is always at the ready.
“A toast to disciples who exceed all expectations,” he says topping up your small glass.
“Ha toasht,” you reply, your tongue already starting to feel thick and heavy in your mouth. Your head is pleasantly buzzed out. Oh, how you missed this. “To Masters.” You drink it all up in one gulp and as it fills your mouth with its oily and heated kiss, the drink warms your chest and your belly. “Ahhh—” you let yourself fall on the grass, looking up at the silver ring. The wind runs its invisible fingers through the grass and plays with the strand of your silver hair.
Carnaval saw you without your hood.
She singled you out for a personal favour.
“And feathers.” You add, looking at the crystal in your hand. It’s hefty and still warm, still thrumming with deep life. “I just hope all this will help me get my family out of the Landing Strip. Give them the life they deserve.”
“When you do, an old man will be out of a job,” Master chuckles.
“Don’t say that!” You reply. How did Carnaval put it? “Perish the thought! You’ll always be my Master, even if… when…” you don’t really have a segue for that. Your brain is getting all mushy. “Always.”
Which does convey the point.
A few more moments of silence. The wind plays with your hair.
“Thank you for having me, Argia,” he replies.
[cont.]
