"Here's to Zepar," Vance declared, raising a tankard of ale. "When we met, he was just a stranger who saved our asses…now, our friend and greatest benefactor."
"Cheers!"
Everyone drank deeply, celebrating their new friend and their own triumphant return home. Zepar allowed himself a moment to enjoy the positive attention for a change, watching the ladies in the tavern fawn over Nyx while feeding the tiny furball small bits of turkey leg.
After finishing his own drink, Zepar stood and slipped outside, standing on the balcony overlooking the street. It had been a long trip, but he had learned a lot about himself and his magic along the way. He thought he finally knew what he wanted all this power for. He just wasn't sure if he could trust himself.
"Copper for your thoughts?" Orin said from the doorway.
"Too cheap," Zepar joked. "My thoughts are expensive."
"Perhaps a drink, then," Orin replied, stepping up next to Zepar and holding out a tankard. Zepar smiled as he accepted the drink. "So, my brother," Orin began before sipping his own drink. "What has you out here instead of being celebrated in there?"
"I originally left Gilramore to find myself," Zepar began. "I did that, and more. I found a brother, friends, and a furry extortionist." He laughed softly. "I've been wondering what I want to actually do with my magic."
"And have you figured that out?" Orin asked.
Zepar nodded, taking a deep pull from his tankard. He had thought long and hard about this. He wanted to be different from his father. More than that though, he liked moments like this, being appreciated for something that was solely his own.
"I want to help people," he replied. "I want to heal the wretched, punish the wicked. I want to do something good."
"And I know you'll do great things, Zepar," Orin said proudly. "I believe in you."
"I wish I was so sure myself," Zepar said quietly. "But what if I stumble?"
"Then you'll catch yourself," Orin said confidently. "You'll remember why you set out in the first place."
"I'll be lost without you, brother," Zepar said, a slight quiver in his voice. "Without your guidance, I'm afraid of what I might do if rage clouds my judgement." He turned to face Orin, and the latter could see the fear in Zepar's eyes. "Come with me," he said hopefully. "Help me to stay on the right path."
Orin sighed sadly, before setting his tankard down. He'd been afraid Zepar would ask this. And it was impossible. To agree would do neither of them any good. If Zepar relied on him for morality, it would stunt his own ability to tell right from wrong. And it would set a dangerous precedent that Zepar's own judgement wasn't to be trusted.
"A tempting proposition," Orin said gently. "And I'm honored that you think so highly of my counsel." He closed his eyes. "But I can't go with you. Because to do so would be to say you will fail without me. And because my place is here."
"Please," Zepar begged. "I don't need you to hold my hand. I just need to know I'll be pulled back if I stray too far."
"I can't," Orin says regretfully. "I have responsibilities here, a life." He placed a hand on Zepar's shoulder. "Besides, you've got an adorable furball to help you remember how good the world can be. Plus there's that pretty girl in Gilramore you were talking about."
Zepar nodded. He was disappointed Orin had refused him, but he understood. He couldn't ask Orin to give up everything he had here because he was terrified of what he might do in the future.
Just as he was contemplating this and more, a couple of the knights came noisily over, laughing and clearly drunk. Without ceremony, they each grabbed one of Zepar's arms and dragged him away, excitedly telling him it was time for the after party.
"What in the—unhand me!" Zepar sputtered as he was dragged inside the Dancing Butterfly, the local brothel. Zepar managed to free himself just in time to hear a man shouting at one of the girls.
"What kind of shit hole are you running here?" the man demanded.
"Sir, we do not force our girls to provide services they are not comfortable with," the Madame said coolly. "And that service is too far even if we did."
"Don't give me that, you damned who—" he paused. "Who—" The man's words were cut off by a small bouquet of roses that had appeared in his mouth.
"Get out!" Zepar said in a low, dangerous tone, still aiming his staff at the man. "Or you'll get worse than flowers coming out of your mouth whenever you're rude."
The man didn't need telling twice. He wasn't about to find out what a mage that could make flowers sprout from his mouth whenever he was rude was capable of doing if he was less lenient. He left in a hurry, vowing internally to never visit the brothel again.
"You didn't need to do that," the Madame said, though she was smiling.
"I'm sure you had it under control," Zepar agreed. "I just despise rudeness. He'll be back to normal in twenty-four hours."
"Strong, principled and magnanimous," the girl who had been being shouted at said, a twinkle in her eye. She grabbed Zepar's hand. "Come with me, handsome. I think you've earned a private session."
The knights behind Zepar cheered as they watched their friend be led into one of the rooms in the back. Zepar did not resist, so unaccustomed to feeling desired that he could think of no mental defense. As soon as the door closed, all sounds were sealed within the room.
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Two hours later…
The sounds of Zepar and the two knights drunkenly singing a shanty carried through the streets as they made their way to the inn he was staying in. He'd had a great time despite himself, and he hadn't even been charged. Being one of the good guys certainly had its perks.
Back at the Dancing Butterfly…
The Madame watched the three merry men stagger away, waiting for them to be out of earshot before rounding on the girl who had just been with Zepar.
"Jasmine! What kind of establishment do you think I'm running?" she demanded. "I liked him too, but we need money to operate."
Jasmine just shrugged indifferently. "Take it out of my pay," she said dismissively. "It was worth it."
"Was he that good?" the Madame asked, wondering if she should have offered him a session herself.
Jasmine shook her head. "He was inexperienced and nervous," she admitted. "But he spent the whole time making sure I was having a good time instead of the other way around." She grinned, blushing softly. "He's a very giving lover."