Page 135 of Night Fae
Adrian patted Knox's arm. "Your rogue can just be mysterious. It fits."
"I've optimized for maximum sneak attack damage," Knox added, with just enough pride to betray his investment.
Daniel clutched his heart dramatically. "My bard comes from a long line of performers who lost everything when their ancestral theater burned down during a rival family's sabotage attempt..."
"We know," everyone except Caelen chorused.
"You've told us three times," Lyrian added.
"It's important context for my motivations!" Daniel defended.
Leon opened his folder. "My wizard's primary goal is cataloging magical phenomena across multiple planes, which aligns with my personal interests in?—"
"Nerd," Daniel interrupted with a smile.
Malik cleared his throat, slipping easily into the game master voice that had guided him through his darkest days. "If everyone's ready?"
The group quieted, focusing on Malik as he began to weave the tale of their adventure. "Your party finds itself in the coastal town of Silverbrook, where locals speak of strange lights seen over the ancient ruins to the north..."
Malik had run countless campaigns during those years of grief and isolation, creating increasingly colorful worlds as a refuge from his own pain. But nothing could have prepared him for the chaos that this particular group laid to his plans.
Within twenty minutes, Daniel's bard had attempted to seduce an innkeeper, Knox's rogue had gotten arrested for stealing from the town mayor, and Lyrian's druid had accidentally set fire to a stable while trying to impress the horses.
"I still don't understand why we can't resolve this with diplomacy," Caelen's paladin declared after Zev suggested breaking into the mayor's house to force him to release Knox.
"Because Adrian's cleric already punched the guard captain," Knox pointed out.
Adrian looked sheepish. "He was rude to an old lady!"
Malik tried to maintain control of the narrative, but soon gave up and simply adapted to their unpredictable choices.
When Zev rolled his first natural twenty to intimidate a group of bandits, he examined the dice with satisfaction. "I like this game."
"You get it now?" Malik asked.
"I get that this means I win," Zev replied, indicating the twenty. "I like that."
Hours flew by. Pizza boxes emptied, character dynamics evolved, and even Caelen became invested enough to argue with Knox about proper tactics. Lyrian expressed interest in being the game master for the next session, and Daniel documented everything with excessive notes for his character's "memoirs."
Near midnight, as the adventure reached a natural pause, Malik looked around the table at his friends—his family—and felt something settle in his chest. These people from two worlds, once strangers thrust together by chaos and danger, now gathered around his table for nothing more serious than shared stories and laughter.
Later, after everyone had left with promises to continue the campaign next week, Malik and Zev stood in the quiet kitchen.
"Did you enjoy it?" Malik asked, loading plates into the dishwasher.
Zev leaned against the counter, violet eyes thoughtful. "It was... illuminating."
"Illuminating?"
"To see them all like this. At peace." He crossed his arms, an unconscious habit when processing emotions. "Next to me, Knox used to be one of the Court's most valuable weapons. Now he argues about fictional tactics while eating pepperoni pizza."
Malik closed the dishwasher and straightened. "People change."
"Yes," Zev agreed softly. "They do."
They moved through the house, turning off lights and locking doors—a domestic ritual that had become comfortable over the past months. As they passed the kitchen, Zev eyed the refrigerator with what might have been a nod of grudging respect. At least for tonight, it had remained obediently silent after the filter change.
In their bedroom, Malik sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Zev methodically removed weapons that, despite Malik's protests, he still carried even on Earth. Old habits died hard.
