#not-dead

The fireworks display was dazzling as usual, year after year. Mona had managed to spend Mugara’s with him, before sneaking off to be with Semmi for hers. She’d never been so glad for time zone differences in her afterlife.

“The end of the week? That’s fast,” the blood elf murmured, leaning against the balcony railing, ankles crossed behind her.

Semmi gave a soft shrug, adjusting her dress so her chest was more evenly covered. “I wish it were sooner, in some cases. I can’t wait to get out of here and start something new, but I already miss the kids, Charam. Not sure I’d miss Electra even if I loved her,” she grinned faintly. “It’ll take a while for that to set in. I’ll know I’ve been gone a while when that happens.”

“You’ll be back before that,” Mona seemed confident, glancing over at her. “Plus, the way they work, you’ll be able to come and go often enough. It’s like my work, except you aren’t dead.”

The redhead grinned, chin rested in her palm. “I am really looking forward to it, despite the downsides. It’s been a while since I felt like I actually made myself useful. I know Alkahest needs me too, but much less than it has, and there isn’t anything Electra and Charam can’t handle together, if need be. And the kids moved on to dedicated tutors...”

It was lucky they had been outside, but maybe not so much for Croaks, who had to dodge specially aimed fireworks from Eric Maglas down below. She ripped a piece of her dress from the hem and enchanted it, handing it back to the vulture for payment in its way, taking the letter in trade as it flew off.

Mona’s head tilted, red hair cascading down her shoulder, much less natural looking than the human’s. “What is it this time? Did Mugara send something?”

“No,” Semmi murmured, eyebrows up, and looked back at her friend. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” The blood elf straightened. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

“Two bells,” she whispered, looking over the letter again before handing it to her.

Mona looked it over fast and then went back to the fireworks. “Huh,” she said, letting her hand hang, letter still held. “Well. Happy fuckin’ new year. How about that. And don’t listen to Kurel, bring what you like, and bunk with Mugara.”

“What is he like, anyway?” Semmi wondered, grabbing a glass of sparkling apple juice.

The blood elf took in a deep breath. Well. Truth was it was a long story. He was dead. He was a once-dead asshole who made mistakes constantly and didn’t care what was right or wrong, just had one way: his. He was stubborn, stupid, forgetful, rude, inconsiderate, and most of what he did wasn’t legal in most countries.

She shifted in her spot and found the apple juice, the minutes inching closer to midnight.

“You won’t like him at first,” she started, watching the display, distant. “He’s too much like us. Stubborn. Probably an alcoholic, too, and he gets himself into too much trouble. You’re going to butt heads with him often, but if you’re absolutely certain that you’re right, do not budge. Fight. Yell. Don’t let him make you lay down. Don’t lose your fire.

“Beside that, he’s rude, swindling, dangerous, and tries to smooth-talk with a dead on poker face. I could give you an exact count of how many times he’s died, if I was permitted into his file, but I can tell you it isn’t zero,” she finished.

Semmi’s head leaned back, and for all of the alarming things that her friend had said, her expression was rather calm.

“Fragmented to hell and back, and still somehow decent enough for Mugara to work for him, and for you to not tell me to stay away,” the mage said, drinking the juice.

Mona sighed, resting her chin in her hand, grinning over at her. “It’s bullshit,” she declared. “But his soul isn’t totally black.”

“That’s all I need,” she returned, kissing her softly on the lips as the clocks chimed to midnight, signalling the new year.