~Map~

~ Illustrations ~

1. Zenneth (Zen) Valgustus: Shrewd, Compassionate

2. Kevyn Fuego: Honorable, Brave

3. Kara Nenonene: Brilliant, Sincere

4. Brock Hamilton: Observant, Persistent

5. Chay Ferrier: Free-Spirit

6. Lula Coca: Charming, Vicious

7. Sion Nox: Driven, Ruthless

8. Yuki Dokuyaku: Legacy, Pernicious

9. Rafi Rashidi: Cultured, Treacherous

10. Evita Bolshrog: Elegant, Dominating

"The planet does not need more 'successful people'. The planet desperately needs more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers, and lovers of all kinds." - Dalai Lama

Zenneth Valgustus sat at the head of the long table at the Winding Oak, the regular tavern for his engineering team, his wine glass raised in a long-awaited and much-deserved toast to them all.

"I must admit, I have never been so happy," he began. Wide smiles burst from his coworkers' lips. "And relieved," he went on. Kara's eyes crinkled. "And satisfied in my entire life." 'All one hundred and three years of it', he did not add. It sounded long to them, but as an elf, that put him at around twenty-five in human terms. It made him old enough to be experienced in their estimation, yet young enough in the elven sense to be daring. He thought it paid off.

He wore a finely made white tunic, tied with an embroidered yellow sash the color of dandelions. White henna adorned his arms, contrasted by his umber skin. Soft, honey-blond hair fell past his shoulders, and a smattering of iridescent freckles crossed his cheeks and nose. He found that the freckles made him both more approachable, and gave him a mystique that set him apart. The most striking of all, however, was the gentle, imposing grace of his antlers—nut brown, and branched like Nature's crown upon his head.

"The ramp-up took its toll on all of us. The months of long hours. Marathon meetings. Code reviews. Lab testing. And finally, the launch and successful demonstration of our satellite system." Zen said the last with a gravity and gratitude that had the team cheering. If it drew the eyes of the other patrons in the tavern Zen took no notice. His attention flitted to each team member as he soaked in the moment like a sponge. And as he thought of his connection to the work itself.

Machines were largely considered dead things, and elves found happiness in staying attuned to nature. But Zen knew vividly that electronics were natural. He controlled lightning, and by extension electricity, and he found great comfort in making such things work. A communion as surely as that of the Forest Folk that encouraged trees to grow and spread. Zen's blood zinged with high amperage and slowed with strong resistance.

"This project may have started from my findings, but I could not have succeeded alone. SwarmSat's estimable engineers, operations specialists, business managers, lawyers, accountants—I could go on—turned a prototype into something that could not fail."

Though Zen was an elf, and the Fae had their lands and interests, life led him here among humanity. He was not the only one, of course. Many elves did the same, and humans lived in the elven lands as well. Take this dinner, for example. There were some twenty people around the table, and two of them were elves, including himself. Then, there was Brian from Engineering, Rob from Operations, and Jessica from Software—and their subordinates—who made up most of the rest of the table.

"Especially Kara," Zen went on.

"As long as you recognize that," she teased, though she was pleased.

His right-hand woman was literally at his right side tonight — Kara Nenonene. He couldn't have led them without her. Where he tended to get more exacting as deadlines loomed, she always saw the people behind the work — and she justly told him when he needed to stop being an ass. Not to mention her absolute brilliance — many of the breakthroughs were hers. And her algorithms — well, Zen could go on and on. She was also his best friend.

The last few months were quite rough, but the last few days stretched Zen to his limits. He survived thanks to Kara. They brought their swarm to life, got them all talking, moved them into position, and tested out their functions. It was amazing and exhausting. Exhausting in a way that made Zen wonder whether elves were made to withstand the fast pace the way that humans did — seemed to thrive on. As it was, he was sure he needed at least a month to recuperate. And he could take that time, but tonight he celebrated.

"Despite our best efforts, we nearly failed today." The group grew somber in reflection. "The sats weren't talking and were dangerously close to colliding when the operator had a burst of inspiration." Zen regarded the operator, the other elf at the table.

"I controlled sats for the military in my previous job and saw something like it before," the other elf said in friendly explanation.

"And it saved our asses," Rob put in from beside him.

"Yes, it did," Zen agreed.

*

Zen was spellbound, eyes wide as he started at the video feed on the mammoth screen in front of him. The close-up view of his little sats showed they had all the appearance of being safe and secure inside their protective shell. Stars glittered like diamonds in the vast expanse before them, and the Earth below a shining blue marble.

"Trajectory: Stable," one engineer said as the laundry list of diagnostics filled the left and right screens.

"Payload: Intact," another operator said. A sea of green check marks eased Zen's mind, at least for the moment.

"Stage 2 complete," announced the Mission Manager. "Payload Manager, passing to you."

"T-minus twenty minutes to swarm dispersion," Zen said. His palms were instantly sweaty but he didn't miss a beat.

A large digital clock in the center screen started the twenty minute countdown.

"Now we wait," Zen said, leaning forward over the rail. He put his attention back to the center screen and resisted loosening the tie around his neck. Zen's mind wandered to when he finished making Sinclair, the first and his favorite of the fifteen, but mostly he passed the time by running the next steps of the mission through his head.

When the countdown of the last thirty seconds finally ran down, Zen burst back to action, heart thudding in his chest. "Deploy the payload."

Zen heard the swift click of keys and confirming words. On the screen, the shell separated, and the directed explosion scattered the satellites in different pre-calculated directions. A sublime state passed over Zen, almost as if he was out there as much as he was in the control room.

"7 and 9 are on a collision course," came a warning.

"Enact avoidance meneuvers," Zen replied.

"They're not communicating with each other," Jessica said, "so they can't calculate the maneuver. Wait. None of them are communicating."

"Comms. Get it running. Operations, do manual maneuvers in the meantime."

"Got it," the elven operator said, "but its a lot like driving a boat around a bunch of others boats with no widows."

For long minutes, the Comms team rebooted everything to no effect. Zen did his best to maintain his composure as he barked out troubleshooting tactics. When those failed, and when Zen started to think they really might knock into each other, the operator stressed the system. The satellites darted and turned. Sped up and slowed. It was the Software equivalent of giving them all a swift, hard kick.

"What the hell do you think your doing Ops?!" Zen said indignantly.

"Comms are up," the lead said in disbelief.

And everything started working. That was it—mission success. The profound relief was palpable in the command room as the team moved on to their final procedures.

*

That operator — Kevyn...something. He was new and worked for Rob. Their normal operator had become very ill and had to be replaced. The new guy had the most experience and so was put in instead of the operators that have been in the company longer. It was also common knowledge that the Folk were better at working with magically enhanced technology, which this was. And it proved to be true in this case.

"Thank you, Kevyn. And thank you all," Zen finished, ending his speech.

The table burst to life with vibrant chatter, and Zen looked at Kevyn again. He was talking jovially with Rob and slapped him on the back. He was handsome, with high cheekbones and a beautiful open smile. His longish black hair was artfully messy and seemed to radiate heat with an undertone of red that shone like hot coals. It was a common trait for the Fire Folk and not hot to the touch. His smile reached his onyx eyes, and his black t-shirt and red-painted arms wrapped his well-muscled frame. Kevyn's thick grey ram horns arched above his head, then down, pointing attractively back.

Kevyn noticed his eyes on him. He looked back, and smiled companionably. Then slightly more than companionably. Zen smiled too, feeling a warmth in his chest, and raised his glass of dry white wine to him. Kevyn did the same with his mug of dark beer and went back to talking to Rob, who was also ex-military (and his boss).

Zen finally paid attention to the meal in front of him—tender steak, fresh greens, and potatoes. He washed it down with a third glass of dry white wine.

The table slowly grew sparser after dessert, as people started to go home. Zen both didn't want the night to end and really, really, wanted to go to sleep. For a week. The remaining group filled seats at Zen's end of the table to make talking easier. When Brian vacated the seat at Zen's left, Kevyn took it up, with Rob at Kevyn's other side now.

"You're very good at thinking on your feet, Kevyn. Is that the military training?" Kara asked when he sat down.

"You could say that," he replied with a smile ripe with hidden depths.

"Years of work and millions in cash may have been wasted without your quick thinking," Zen said.

Kevyn's smile grew even warmer, and when their eyes met, their gazes lingered. In fact, Zen was too taken in to look away.

Rob patted Kevyn on the back, unknowingly ending the moment, and said, "I know how to pick 'em, don't I?"

Zen and Kara agreed.

"Have you been in Gardenia long? You were just hired, right?" Zen asked. Gardenia was coastal, pleasantly warm, and lush with greenery. It was part of what lured Zen here, besides being closer to the equatorial plane and therefore a space center.

"I've been here a few weeks. Just finished my contract with the Air Force and wound up here. It's a great company. Cutting edge."

"Top five in the world in the space industry," Zen added.

"How are you settling into the area?" Kara asked, tight brown curls bobbing as she tilted her head to the side.

"The Fae district is great. I was worried since it's such a populated area, that there wouldn't be much room or open space. But no, plenty of green."

"I know what you mean," Zen said. "I used to work in Portland and it felt like a concrete tomb. Terrible urban planning, nothing like the Capitol." He grew up in the Capitol and loved the dichotomy of park space and metropolis that's been baked into it over the last three hundred years. His parents still lived there, not that he visited much.

The message he got from his father yesterday bluntly asked him to come home, and Zen didn't want to think about what it meant.

Kevyn laughed. "I would shrivel up and die!" Zen laughed, too. "And how about you two? How long have you lived here? I know Rob's been here his whole life."

"Twenty years," Zen said. "I moved here after MagiSat - they're the ones in Portland." He thought briefly of his decades in engineering, pleased, and then touched on the older memory of his ten years of corporate life with distaste and anger.

"Seven years for me," Kara said.

"So it really is the kind of place people settle into," Kevyn said.

"Absolutely," Kara said. "It can be stressful, as you've seen—I can't believe your first project is the one that was going full throttle!"

"Literally," Zen added.

"It was exciting," Kevyn replied, cheeks flushing.

"You're not scared off easily," Rob said. "A good quality for the likes of us." Then he looked at his watch and said, "Well, I'll be getting home. Leave the jabbering to you young folks." They bade goodbye and Rob left the tavern.

"Want to head into the bar?" Zen asked the other two. It was eleven o'clock and Zen thought he'd be falling over from exhaustion by now, but he found he wanted to keep talking.

The two agreed, and they headed to a small high-top table, passing the large winding tree that was in the middle of the establishment on the way.

Zen's phone buzzed, and he had the feeling it was another text from his father. He wasn't going to answer today either. 

Zen noticed as he walked behind Kevyn on the way to the table that he was wearing jeans instead of the soft pants the Folk tended to wear.

The lighting was dimmer in the barroom, the fragrance of oak from the walls was heavier, and he could hear the boisterous chatter and clinking of glasses from the bar.

They ordered more drinks—house wine for Zen and Kara, and draft beer for Kevyn. The beer he ordered was 'Merry Elf'. Zen remembered some of his merry nights when that beer was on offer and complimented Kevyn on his choice.

"So what do you do for fun around here?" Kevyn asked. "I mean, it's more populated than where I came from - more to do, but where do I start?"

"We haven't been out much lately," Zen lamented. "With the project taking up our time—the long hours, and just being so tired at the end of the day. And I'd been working on my doctorate before that." A pause. "Hopefully, you won't take that as a humble brag. But, we love to mountain bike and go hiking and dancing."

Kara nodded her agreement, then added, "The downhill biking is a blast. We go down the ski slopes on our bikes in the off-seasons."

Kevyn smiled. "Sounds awesome, I've never done that."

They talked about biking for a while and agreed to take Kevyn with them sometime soon. They exchanged cell phone numbers. Zen really looked forward to it, and to all of the time off he would be taking.

Then Kara got a text, which made her smile a little wickedly as she looked at it, and she said she ought to be going. Zen guessed it was a come-home booty-text from her girlfriend. He would have teased her about it if they were with their circle of friends.

They said their goodbyes and as she passed behind Kevyn on the way out, she looked at Zen, pointed at Kevyn, and made a significant hand gesture—exclaiming silently with her whole face as she did it. She was clearly predicting how she thought the night would go for Zen. He kept his expression neutral as if she hadn't done it.

Then it was the two of them, Zen and Kevyn.

"You got your Ph.D.? I didn't realize," Kevyn said. And continuing the conversation, Zen was happy to realize.

"I'm almost done," Zen amended. "It's on the magic-electromechanical design for the project. With the successful testing of the system, all I have to do now is finish the write-up."

Kevyn whistled low. "That's really impressive," he said with emphasis. And then he looked at Zen as if he'd been talking to someone like a buddy who was actually far beyond his reach. The look made Zen's stomach twist. He'd been loving the way he spoke with him so openly—not many people did.

"You came from the Air Force right?" Zen asked, keeping a casual tone.

"Yeah. Did thirty years," he replied.

"Doing what?"

"Some grunt work at first, then I was a fighter pilot for a while. Then by the last ten years I was operating the military satellite system."

"Fighter pilot?" Zen asked. Now it was his turn to be impressed.

Kevyn smiled excitedly. "Yeah, it was really cool. Did aid work and patrols and stuff. No actual fighting. But," Kevyn paused a moment, "then my new superior didn't want an elf in the cockpit. Said my dual citizenship meant I couldn't be trusted. So they switched me to satellite operations...But, how is that any less of a 'risk' to them when I'm controlling their satellites?" he asked with frustration and a tinge of bitterness.

"I'm sorry," Zen said, but Kevyn waved it off, not wanting to dwell on it. "So you kept dual citizenship with Kreta and your Tribe?" The country they lived in, Kreta, was settled by a smattering of other nations four hundred years ago. Now, it was the capital of the world.

"Yeah. The two sides talked when I signed on. I was given altruistic jobs and neutral ones. If they were doing any shady business against the Folk I never knew about it."

Zen thought about what he was alluding to. There had been two world wars and countless regional ones between the elves and humans through the ages. They were on good enough terms now, but it was still strained at the edges. Zen personally believed that the tension between their nations was getting worse, not better—even as their peoples grew more and more entwined. And one day, war would be on the horizon again. So, mutual spying was likely a given. He was glad that Kevyn's career was so successful under those circumstances.

"Why did you retire?" Zen asked.

"I was tired of moving around. I was ready to stand still for a while, ya know?"

Zen sensed there was something more to it than that, but said, "I think I do. The human pace of life can be taxing. I've spent twelve years in my Ph.D. program, and I've been working at the same time for the past five. The elf pace would have been more like fifteen years full-time." They both laughed. And it was true. The elves put great importance on balancing one's life: purpose, family, friends, hobbies, nature, physical and mental fitness. And they never rushed. Zen was neglecting many of those categories, and overclocking himself, and he could feel it in his bones.

"So now you're going to stop and smell the roses before finishing your writing?" Kevyn asked.

"That's the plan." And the thought of stopping to appreciate what's around him—that is, smelling the roses—resulted in Zen looking over Kevyn's face, noticing fissures of red in his eyes amidst the inky black.

Kevyn smiled, in a different way this time. Knowing, and flattered. A thrill went through Zen. Kevyn looked back at him, lingering on his freckles as they sparkled against the flicker of the candle between them.

Zen's heart beat faster in his chest.

"Since we work together," Kevyn ventured softly, "would it be inappropriate to tell you that you're stunning, Zen?"

Zen's heart did a backflip.

The blond grinned widely, taken with his boldness. "Even if it was," he started, "I'm pleased to hear it from one as handsome as yourself." Kevyn's eyes sparked. "But no, I'm not your direct supervisor or anything," Zen assured.

"I'm very glad," he said and scooted his chair closer to Zen. Their eyes held. It was an unexpectedly wonderful connection on an already amazing night.

"I've talked about what I do. What do you do for fun?" Zen asked him, partially so they didn't get stuck staring at each other dumbly.

Kevyn looked away with a small smile, considering the question for a long moment. He reached for his drink, took a swallow, and said, "I'd like to get back into Magical Arts training, actually."

"Oh?" Zen replied, replaying the bob of Kevyn's throat in his mind as he drank , "I was into it too, until a few years ago. I haven't been to a Center in ages, but I miss it sometimes."

"Me too. I mean, I had to keep up with Combat Training and there's a magical component to that, but it was my job."

"So now you're free to enjoy it again?"

"Exactly. I saw there was a Center near the District market. Is it good?"

"It is," Zen confirmed. "And I've been meaning to catch up with my friends there. We could go together if you like. I'll introduce you."

"That'd be great!" Kevyn exclaimed. Then, more slyly, "So, how do you rank?"

"I'm Onyx Rank, lightmagic class, though I'll need to brush up on the forms."

"Oh, yeah? Me too. We should face off," Kevyn said with a flirtatiously competitive note that Zen was compelled to meet in full.

"You sure?" Zen teased. "I've been training since I was a kid."

"Me too." Kevyn made a show of taking Zen's measure. "I can take you."

Zen cackled. "You can't tell like that."

Kevyn's eyes were full of secrets for a moment as if maybe his training did give him such an ability. "Fine. We'll just have to see for ourselves," Kevyn said with finality. He took Zen's hand on the tabletop, sending a ripple of tingles from his hand through his whole body.

Zen hadn't felt such a pull toward someone in a long time. "Come home with me?" Zen asked, as bold as Kevyn had been earlier. "I have speakers set up in the courtyard if you'd like to listen to some music with me."

"I would love to," Kevyn replied.

~

They got a cab without too much of a wait, despite it being a Friday night. The white electric car was quiet, but the driver had on some club music that kept Zen's heart pumping. The signs and lights on the main street whizzed by but Zen couldn't focus on anything but Kevyn's had in his.

Kevyn commented as they walked through the living room toward the courtyard, "You have such a nice house," in a way that suggested that his own home was not as large and well-furnished.

"Thank you," he replied graciously and ushered Kevyn forward. Zen was rather proud of his home since he'd earned it all on his own. His parents were exorbitantly wealthy when he was young, and he had the best of everything. Then, with the revolution, they'd lost it all—or at least what they couldn't hide. The revolutionaries were clever and thorough, and they hadn't managed to hide much. At least his family had kept their heads.

Soon, he and Kevyn sat on the pillows in the courtyard, bottles of Merry Elf in hand, which Zen fortuitously happened to have.

He lit the lamps, which brought a subtle glow to the space as he went from torch to torch. Kevyn walked up to the third one and lit the wick with an elegant motion of his fingers, making Zen smile, then continued to the remaining three.

Zen turned on the outdoor speakers without touching his phone's controls. Soft contemporary music filled the enclosed space.

Kevyn looked around, then to Zen's empty hands, and smiled. Zen drank too much already, and risked shorting his phone with the stunt, but it was worth it for Kevyn's pleased reaction.

And then they sat back down on the plush pillows that were scattered around the tree in the middle of the courtyard. They toasted with their drinks and let the music wash over them for a few minutes. Zen took off his shoes and put his feet in the thick grass. He felt the wind through his hair and soaked up the subtle heat from Kevyn's skin. Zen mused that Fire Folk were good portable heaters as Kevyn also took his shoes off.

"I'm proud of this place," Zen voiced. "I...didn't start my career with much. But I was good at it, and it turned out I was good at bringing people together too." Zen smiled fondly at the way he'd become so close to everyone on his team. "And, the bigger companies started taking me in, and the paychecks got bigger." Zen shrugged.

"I never really made a lot," Kevyn said. "The military was good pay, but nothing like what I'm making now."

"You're very talented," Zen said, turning the glass bottle in his hands, making the silhouette of the celebrating elf dance along the green label. Then added, "Not everyone puts money first, especially not the Folk." 'Except for the ones like my family,' he didn't say. "It must have been rewarding."

"It was," Kevyn lit up. "I was shoulder-to-shoulder with people I could help. And people that wanted to do some good. It was time to move on, though." He paused, and then continued, "I got my first paycheck last week and I was in shock seeing the numbers written there."

"You'll be able to get a place like this within a few years, I bet," Zen said, which added to Kevyn's awe. 

"My military job's not the only one that's rewarding," Kevyn said, regarding Zen. "So is the one I have now."

Some Fae alt rock came on next on the outdoor speakers.

"Satellites make so much possible," he went on. "Make us all more connected. They all really think you're a shining star, Zen. And, I think I can see what they see, too. It's...a little intimidating."

Zen bit his lip. "You though—you talk to me like I'm anyone else, and I'm realizing how much I miss that."

"What about your friends?" he asked, blushing a little.

"I do get that from Kara, no doubt, and my friends outside of work, but I've been too busy to see them all lately."

"So, you need a dose of reality. I'm happy to oblige," Kevyn said and leaned in close to Zen. Zen looked at him, eyes growing heavy-lidded, anticipation buzzing through him. Kevyn grazed his lips against Zen's cheek and said with a spring-honey voice, "You're so damn sexy, Zen." Zen's mouth parted slightly. "When you smile you light up the room—and when you're dead serious—" Kevyn growled low in his throat instead of finishing his thought. Zen closed his eyes as Kevyn kissed him.

Zen moaned as their lips touched. Their kiss was as soft as the music and as electrified as a storm. They were unhurried in their exploration. Zen brushed his thumb along Kevyn's jaw. Kevyn wrapped his arms around Zen's lower back and pulled him close. Kevyn cursed and pushed Zen gently down on the pillows, deepening the kiss.

It was easy to get lost in Kevyn's arms. To halt the workings of his overclocked mind and just feel. Zen ran his hand up Kevyn's chest, and into his coal-fire hair—down his muscled arms. Kevyn cupped the back of Zen's head—and bit his bottom lip.

They kissed and explored each other's bodies. And flirted. And they laughed, loud and free.

"How many freckles do you have?" Kevyn asked as he untied Zen's sash and parted his tunic. "There's the ones on your cheeks and your shoulders.

"I don't know. Why don't you find out?" Zen replied, laughing.

Smiling, Kevyn grazed the constellations of freckles with the tips of his fingers. First his cheek, and then a shoulder. Kevyn's mouth replaced his fingers and trailed lower down the length of Zen's frame. He crooked a finger into the waistband of his pants and pulled down. The delicious coiling low in Zen's belly tightened more sharply. Kevyn nipped below his belly button and continued on.

After each explored the other to his satisfaction, Zen collapsed next to Kevyn on the pillows. "Let's sleep out here—it's a nice night," Zen suggested.

"Not moving sounds like a great idea," Kevyn agreed.

"There's a blanket in the storage bin, hold on."

Zen took out a thick, soft, gray blanket and covered them both, cocooning them in contentment, the natural world, the blanket, and one another.

They idly traced the painted designs on each other's arms, and kissed some more, before falling asleep.

~

When Zen woke, the sun was up. It must have been around 9 am judging by the brightness and slant of the sun. He didn't care enough to check his phone. Zen couldn't remember the last time he slept so well.

He felt Kevyn's warm body against his own as he gazed at his serene beauty as he slept. Kevyn's thick, dark lashes dusted his cheeks and his full pink lips were slightly parted.

They'd made plans last night - sparring, biking. Zen wanted to do something more romantic, too. A real date. And dancing. He tried not to get ahead of himself. It's just that this really felt like something.

Kevyn woke up and smiled sleepily at him. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Zen replied, kissing his cheek. Kevyn kissed him lingeringly on the lips, then sat up and stretched—blanket pooling at his waist. "Would you like breakfast? I can make us some omelets."

"That sounds great. I'll help."

When they were settled at the kitchen table, omelettes, toast and coffee for both of them, Kevyn said, "I had a really great time, Zen."

"Me too," Zen replied, heart fluttering.

"I'd love to. I mean. I want to see you again. But, if you'd rather be friends, if you think it would be weird because we work together after all, I'm good with that, too," Kevyn explained and winced. "Smooth," he commented to himself.

Zen laughed kindly, and gidilly. "I'd like that, Kevyn. And, I wouldn't mind people from work finding out. Not that I send out a weekly newsletter about who I'm going out with." He shrugged. "We'll just, keep it professional at work."

"Sounds good to me," Kevyn agreed. "No hanky-panky in the storage closet. Got it." Kevyn cut into his eggs and took a large bite.

"And if things cool off between us, I won't try to get you kicked off the project or anything dramatic like that."

"Didn't think you would." Kevyn winked. "And we still have to do all the things we talked about with Kara."

"You got it." Zen downed the last of his coffee.

Kevyn stretched, arms above his head. "Guess I'd better get going," he said. "I still have boxes to unpack, if you can believe it."

Zen nodded. "I'll give you my number." He noted the way Kevyn's muscles flexed and moved, and leaned closer. "Or, you know, you can stay here for a bit longer."

Kevyn grinned at him, closed the distance, and kissed Zen in answer.

The blond eventually maneuvered him to the couch and pushed him down, settling on top of him. Took in the sight of Kevyn in the sunlight.

He opened Kevyn's pants and Zen's eyes were then drawn to a bit of red color on Kevyn's hip. Another painted design? No, it was a magical marking. One he knew quite well, he realized with shock—as he had an identical yellow mark on his own hip. "A magical seal?" he asked, grazing it with his fingers.

"Yes," Kevyn answered a little sadly.

"Same as mine," Zen replied, pushing down the hem his pants to show his hip.

Kevyn's eyes darted to Zen's left hip and saw it. "Hey, we're in the same club." He placed a hand on his hip, and grazed the mark with his thumb, then gave him a commiserating look.

Zen thought of the spell that inhibited five of the ten tribal leaders and their families. It happened three hundred years ago, and was the cost of peace, to end the war. As a consequence, Zen never acquired his full strength. He was bitter. He wasn't even born when the spell was cast. Why did he have to pay the price?

His thoughts went to Kevyn. So he was one of the elves that paid from the Fire Tribe. His mind reeled as he recalled the Fire Tribe boy he knew back at school: his schoolmate, his rival, his crush, his enemy.

"What's your family name?" Zen asked. Maybe he'd been told at some point in the past few weeks, but he'd been very distracted.

"Fuego."

Just like the disgraced Chief. Just like that boy...Kevyn Fuego. Shit. "Kevyn Fuego," he said, feeling fifteen years old again.

Kevyn gasped, and shocked recognition filled his eyes. "Zenneth Valgustus?!"

Zen knelt there, frozen, as Kevyn sat up and cursed. The memories flitted by.

"Fucking spoiled brat!"

A kiss.

A hideaway for just the two of them.

"You just want to drag us all into the dirt with the rest of you."

Zen's broken nose.

"Don't you ever fucking come near me again!"

Zen came back to himself. Kevyn knelt in front of Zen, looking him in the eyes, not knowing what to do.

Zen wanted to punch him, and kiss him, and scream at him, and seek his forgiveness.

~

Eighty-eight years ago

The school sat nestled in the very heart of the woods of the Fae District of the Capitol. Fae of all kinds gathered here to be taught in the most magically diverse region in the world.

As soon as Zen was seated for History, his friend behind him, Proulx, sent a static shock across the small distance from his finger directly into Zen's back. Zen let out an undignified squeal, and the students around him laughed. Smirking, Zen put his hand behind him and did the same back at Proulx. The shock landed in his thigh, and then he gave the finger for good measure. Zen heard the suppressed groan of pain with satisfaction.

"As you know, there are ten elven nations throughout the world," began Professor Chernyy, twirling a new piece of white chalk in her fingers. "Though, they are still called Tribes for the sake of tradition."

Zen half listened with his chin in his hand. His parents just announced that they would all be going on vacation to tropical Nalu once the school year was over, and he was planning how to spend his time.

"Each member nation of course practices a different form of magic and has their own customs as well as regional customs. The Forest Tribe for example is known for being devoted to Gaia and to one another - if one is to believe in generalities." The Professor's tone suggested that one should not. "What are some other stereotypes?"

"The Fire tribe is passionate," said a Water Tribe girl, her cheeks turning pink.

"That's right," said Professor Chernyy. "What else?"

"The Fairies are mischievous," said an Air Tribe boy with feathered wings like an owl.

"And one more," urged Professor Chernyy.

"The Lightning Tribe is ambitious," said a Fire Tribe boy with a hint of distaste that stung Zen.

"And you feel this is a just assessment, Kevyn?" the Professor asked.

Kevyn's friends who sat in the seats around him laughed.

"I mean," Kevyn said, and flicked his eyes to Zen. The look was damning, even if it wasn't Kevyn's intention, and Zen's skin prickled with heat.

Zen scoffed airily, nonetheless. "What did I ever do?"

Kevyn's eyes widened.

"Kevyn?" probed the Professor, giving Kevyn the chance to correct his mistake.

"No," Kevyn said," glancing at Zen's friend Gwyn now. "It's not a just assessment."

The Professor nodded and moved on. "To continue in the same vein, the Water Tribe is said to be both centered and accepting. The winged Air Tribe is dutiful. The Poison Tribe is self-serving."

Zen wondered what it was about Gwyn that Kevyn found more pleasant than himself. Zen's family was successful. That was a good thing. Yet Kevyn used the word 'ambition' like it meant 'greedy'. Gwyn's family was doing well too, but nothing like Zen's.

"The Light Tribe is either enlightened or condescending, depending on the subculture. And the Dark Tribe (or Demons)," here she pointed to her telltale horns and put on a mock nefarious tone, "are dangerous." The students laughed. "And finally, the Earth Tribe is enduring and stubborn."

Gwyn herself was as friendly and outgoing as he was. More of a joiner, though. Not as competitive. But Zen enjoyed the competition between him and Kevyn. 

Eighty-eight years ago.

"Now, we're near the end of the school year," said Professor Chernyy, "and our model United Fae Nations Council begins next week, so let's roll our conversation about stereotypes into some of our previous topics to help us prepare. Humanity," she decided. "The United Fae Nation joins their lands in name, though they are disparate in a physical sense, and has existed since the Second World War. The Folk are far fewer than the humans in number, but much more powerful and principled, making them difficult for humanity to ignore. Now, what are some of the main issues that caused the World Wars?"

"Humans were taking more from the world than they were giving back," one boy answered.

"That's right. 'A poison on the Earth' we used to say. And what has time shown us about this assumption?"

"The humans just wanted to live well. Be happy. Have a life with less struggle and suffering, disease and death. So, there was mass production, and trade, and electronics...And deforestation, greenhouse gases, and toxic waste," Zen answered.

"So do we," Kevyn said with frustration under his breath. "So aloof."

Zen didn't understand what Kevyn's problem was this time either, however alluring his conviction was. Weren't they the same, Zen and Kevyn? Didn't they both suffer the same consequences of war?

Many died in the last war, and when no one had the stomach for it any longer, the humans agreed to concessions—regulations on their industries, and demilitarization. And the elves agreed to essentially demilitarize some of their strongest. Half of the Tribal Chiefs and their families had an irreversible seal on their magical power placed upon them. It fell to their descendants as well. And both Zen's and Kevyn's families were among them.

Zen floundered in his confusion.

~

Zen walked the forest path from school to home by himself today. His friends, Proulx and Gwyn, also from the Lighting Tribe, would have normally been with him when school was in session. But it was the Summer, and he was coming back from magical arts training to prepare for the upcoming competition. He wore a simple white uniform and black painted patterns on his face and arms that denoted his high rank.

His coach thought he had a chance of winning his bracket (the low magic bracket, but he didn't dwell on that part). He was feeling good about it.

He came upon a boy a year younger than him on the path. A Fairy boy, with curling chestnut hair, wide teal eyes, and gossamer wings. They never really talked, but he always found himself drawn to him. He'd seen him dance in school performances, and he was radiant.

The boy wore the white tunic that was traditional for Fairies. More traditional than typically worn nowadays, but the style was in so much of the old artwork that it didn't seem out of place at all. He looked cute in it. Perhaps he was going home from dance practice.

Zen decided he should go talk to him. And then realized the reason he was drawn to him now, in this moment. The thing that tipped the scales.

Zen participated in the Summer Solstice Festival as a Champion for the first time a couple of weeks ago. The boom of the rolling thunder filled his ears, and the surge of unbridled power filled his body. It had been a formative moment in his life. An intoxicating moment that showed him what he was truly capable of. What it felt like to command Lightning itself.

The elders and warriors heartily congratulated him. His parents were proud of him. And, when some of the kids his age had come up to him during the Revel afterward, they'd praised him, joked with him, and touched him as if that might give them a drop of the power he'd wielded.

One of the girls had kissed him, which was very nice. One of the boys did as well, which was at least as nice—and also intriguing since it was the first boy he'd ever kissed. He had boys on the brain ever since.

Zen came closer to the Fairy boy, Chay, and saw that he seemed to be watching a magical deer streak a trail as it bounded about with golden fur shining. Chay smiled prettily, and Zen's heart flipped.

The elf stopped next to him and watched as the deer drank from the nearby stream. He didn't speak, because it might scare the deer that Chay appreciated so much. Chay looked at him a moment, smiled in camaraderie, and then back to the deer.

When it eventually darted out of sight, Zen said, "It's rare to see Golden Harts, they're so skittish."

"It's true," Chay answered, pleased to have gotten the chance. "I've always wanted to see one, and I never have. They're good luck, you know."

"I've heard that, too. So, what do you need luck with?" Zen asked in a way that he hoped was both friendly and charming at once.

Chay puffed out a breath. "My girlfriend, I think. She's mad at me and I have no idea why."

Zen wasn't much interested in helping Chay understand his girlfriend better, but he acted like he did. And somehow, somehow, Zen's gentle suggestion that Chay look elsewhere led to an exchange of white flowers in their hair, and the two of them kissing. And it was brilliant.

Eventually, someone walked near them in the path and stopped. Zen mentally urged whoever it was to keep it moving.

"What the hell, Chay," said a boy seriously.

Chay pulled back from Zen and they both looked at who interrupted them.

There stood Kevyn Fuego, anger in his black-painted face that grew deeper when he saw exactly who Chay had been kissing.

Kevyn, who already didn't like Zen—and the blond didn't know why. Kevyn, who Zen admired but would not be his friend no matter how he'd tried. Kevyn, who was his main competition in the magical arts - But, that couldn't be why he didn't like him, could it?

"You're dating my cousin," Kevyn said to Chay through gritted teeth. "And so, I'm having trouble understanding why you would be kissing someone else."

"Don't tell her!" Chay said.

That just made Kevyn angrier. "I won't. Because you're telling her. Tonight. And if you don't, I don't even know what I'm going to do."

"It seemed that it wasn't working out," Zen said in defense of Chay.

Kevyn gave Zen a quelling look.

"I don't want to break up with her," Chay said, to Zen's surprise. Then went on, "Fine. I'll tell her the truth and beg her to forgive me." He apologized to Zen and took off with the brisk beat of his wings.

"So you knew he was dating someone?" Kevyn asked Zen, turning his anger on him now.

"Yes. Like I said, it seemed he didn't like her anymore," he replied with forced calm.

"So you thought you'd swoop in? It's just like you."

"What's just like me?" Zen asked, surprised.

"To take whatever you want—without consideration for anyone else."

Zen was confused and wounded by this assessment of him. "He wanted me to."

"It doesn't mean you should have."

"I disagree." Zen was getting angry himself, now.

"Because you're..."

"What?! What am I? I wish you would tell me, already!" Zen yelled at him.

"A fucking spoiled brat!" Kevyn yelled back. Zen was floored. "You think your money means you can do whatever you want. You strut around the school like you own it. You push people to help you. You talk to everyone like you're so important. You even kissed Chay like you already had a claim on him!"

Zen saw red. "No, I don't! Maybe you just feel inferior and project it onto me," he said nastily. "It's not a crime to be sociable!"

"Sociable?! Most people can't go around doing that! They'd be told to fuck off!"

Zen thought it was past time to get to the root of the problem. "Why are you so much against me, when we're the same, Kevyn?" Zen took a breath and gathered his thoughts as Kevyn looked back at him with a furrowed brow.

"We're nothing alike," Kevyn said.

"We're both marked, aren't we?" Zen pressed. "At the end of the war, the humans insisted that the elven leaders that advocated war be the ones to have their magic sealed. Them, and their descendants. Us." Kevyn looked uncomfortable but nodded for Zen to go on.

"The one exception to the seal is that it be lifted for one day of the year. Just one day. The most revered day of celebration for each Tribe. For Lightning, it's the Summer Solstice, and I know it's the same day for you. But it's not an altruistic exception. For Lighting, vast amounts of electricity are collected and stored for both the Folk and humanity to use. And frankly, it sucks."

Kevyn blinked at him. "Yes, I - I know," Kevyn said, voice softening a little. "But I think of it more like, both sides had to do things they didn't want to do for the sake of peace. And yes, we're taking the brunt of it, but that's all the more reason to live the way we want to. Not just try to scramble up a different social order just because it's there."

Zen knew what Kevyn was saying. Magic is status for the Folk. Elven hierarchy is established, in large part, through sheer magical power, and so the punished Chiefs, the vocal advocates of war, were cast into the lower ranks of their society, however grateful the Nation was.

Some took on advisory or otherwise supportive roles in their Tribes. Others cast themselves out into the human world—driven by bitterness or ambition. That's what Zen's Grandparents did, and they were extraordinarily successful. Even with limited power, their magic was prized and quite useful to humanity. They grew rich, and other elves followed their lead. It led to an unprecedented influx of elves to the human lands.

"Not just because it's there," Zen answered. Because we're a part of it all now, too. Politics, and the economy, affect our lives, too. Today, the two races couldn't possibly untangle if they wanted to.

"I agree with you there," Kevyn allowed.

Zen pushed his advantage and brought them around to the original subject. "How - how do I kiss like I have a claim on him?" he challenged. Why was he focusing on that part? Oh well, too late to back down.

"All like..." Kevyn got a little embarrassed and said, "Standing so close and looming over him so confidently, hands around his waist and stuff."

"That's a kiss!" Zen exclaimed.

"No, it's like," Kevyn rubbed his hands over his face like he couldn't believe he had to explain this. "A confidence, built into every pore of you...that even though he was dating someone, he would kiss you anyway."

Zen flushed. "Most people like confidence. You're confident, too."

Kevyn shook his head and came closer. You're like this," Kevyn said, bringing his arms closer to him, then stopping—uncertain. He seemed to mentally fortify himself and start again.

He looked at Zen as if gauging his reaction, slowly wrapping his arms around him to give him a chance to pull away. Zen didn't balk, though his warm cheeks betrayed him, wanting to sort this out. He was on the ready to call bullshit on Kevyn's assertion.

Kevyn was quite tall. His face was close now. His arms firmly wrapped around his waist. Confident.

Zen loved it.

"I fail to see the problem," Zen said quietly.

Kevyn sucked in a breath as if finally realizing what he had done, and noting what effect it had on Zen. He relaxed his stance a bit, and softened his arms, but still held onto him. "And this is how a normal person does it," he said as softly as Zen had spoken.

"Also good," Zen said, wrapping his arms loosely around Kevyn's neck to match him in 'normal confidence'. "And how would you kiss me?"

Kevyn kissed him. Pouring his attraction and frustration into Zen's mouth. Zen held him tighter, but only just, remembering what Kevyn said and not knowing how much was too much—and Kevyn pulled tighter, too.