The Pegasus's Lament Read Online Free PDF Page A

you and I know you love me. I just...well, I just wanted to make it official.”
    “ I didn't say no,” she said, her voice small and far away.
    “ I know. I can be patient.” He laughed without much humor and shrugged when she raised her eyebrows at him. “Just as well you got that letter today. We were due in Dragonfell at the end of the week. At least now we have a reason that doesn't make me look like a fool.”
    “ The end of the week? But what about a ceremony? Our clothes? Our friends?”
    “ All were taken care of, love. I've been busy these last few months.”
    Tia gave him a sharp look and poked him in the chest with a finger. “All that skulking around on 'Order business' that I couldn't know about?”
    Wynn looked away. The lump had suddenly returned, making it hard to answer.
    “Yeah.”
    Tiadaria said nothing and Wynn was thankful for that. Her rejection had been hard enough. He really didn't want to spend the rest of the day hashing things out. They sat in silence for a long time. It was Tia who finally broke that long silence.
    “I just want to know who I am before I promise to be everything you need me to be.”
    He caught her eyes and held them.
    “Tia, when have I ever needed you to be anything more than you are?”
    She shook her head, her eyes sad and welling with more tears.
    “You don't understand,” she said, this time she sounded as if she were teetering on the edge of control. “It's not about you needing more. I can't even dedicate time to myself. How can I dedicate time to you and be what you want me to be?”
    Her voice broke and she pelted down the cobblestones, through the gate, and down the wide lane that ran in front of the cottage.
    “I just need you to be you,” Wynn said to himself.
     
     
    #
     
     
    The Community Hall in Dragonfell had once been the common room of a brothel that had held a certain black renown when Faxon was a boy. Perhaps it was for that reason that he seemed to laugh every time he entered the space. It made him happy and if he was happy here, he knew that Tia and Wynn would be.
    Once the decorations were in order and the trestles and chairs set up, it would be the perfect place to hold the festivities. There was a small lectern at the front of the long room where Faxon would say the ancient and traditional words that would bind two of his closest friends together for eternity.
    “Where do you want these?” The sharp tone intruded on his ruminations, dragging him forcefully back to the present from the near future.
    “ There is fine, Tionne,” Faxon said. He pointed to a corner of the room where other crates and boxes had already been stacked.
    The elder quintessentialist wasn't sure what her problem was, or when it had grown so out of control. She was one of the most disagreeable and taciturn acolytes he had ever known and being involved with the education of so many students in the Academy of Arcane Arts and Sciences, he had known many. He had hoped that age would help her grow out of her shrewish temper, but so far, he had been disappointed.
    “I don't understand the need for all this fluff anyway,” she groused as she dropped the crate she had been carrying. “How does it change anything?”
    Faxon peered at her. The girl he had known from a youngster had grown into a young woman. A young woman who would have been pretty if she didn't insist on drawing her hair back in such a severe braid. Her emerald green eyes sparkled, but not with the merriment of most girls her age. Instead, they danced with a quiet, cold malice that bothered Faxon far more than he let on.
    “It's not supposed to change anything, Tionne. It is supposed to be pretty and pleasing to look at. It is meant to be inviting and welcoming and to make people feel good on a special day.”
    Tionne nudged an open crate with the tip of her boot. She insisted on wearing boots under her robes, eschewing the traditional slippers that mages normally wore. Faxon raised his eyebrow at her.