Page 44 of Level Up for Love

I text back, sure!!, though the double exclamation points look more chipper than I feel. I can’t help but deflate a little as I pause to look around. I’d left Wesley in the dust as quickly as I could. He’d looked like he wanted to talk more about the competition, but the second Jace had distracted him with a question about his game dev experience, I turned on my heel and disappeared into the crowd. Now I frown, my fingers tight around my phone, regretting letting all of my friends run off without me.

Friends? I think. Is that what we’re calling them now? Even him?

“Hey,” a woman’s voice calls from behind me, and I swing around to face an artist sitting alone in the booth I’m currently crowding, an empty chair next to her. She’s smiling at me apologetically, her eyes creased behind her gold wire-rimmed glasses.

“God, I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to block your booth.”

“Oh no, that’s fine. I was just going to ask—are you all right?”

I’ve never been great at hiding my emotions. My face is a projector for whatever thoughts scroll through the inside of my skull. I can only imagine that currently, to everyone else, I look scowl-y, frustrated, and a little hurt. I try to relax. “Yeah, I’m good—just a change of plans.”

“Okay.” She gestures to the assortment of art prints, key chains, and stickers on display at her booth, her expression earnest, if a touch nervous. “Well, if you want to take a look, feel free.”

I’ve already spent my allotted con budget on the prints and crocheted owlbear plushie tucked under my arm, but at this point, it would be really fucking rude to walk away. I put on a smile and peruse her wares.

It takes me only a few moments to realize just how excellent her art is. For the most part, her style is whimsical, bright, and colorful—reminding me of Mona—with a handful of moodier pieces in between. Like most of the artists who sell at cons, she’s done a great job of catering exactly to the intended audience, with a wide variety of original art and fanart, including Star Wars characters, video game protagonists, D&D d20 key chains, an amusing collection of Gandalfs, and several portraits of a white-haired vampire who isn’t Vadrien (he’s too pretty). I glance at the name of her booth: SadieSketches. I don’t recognize it.

“Is this your first time at ComicConnecticut?” I ask.

Her expression brightens. “It is! I’m originally from Connecticut, but I’m taking a road trip this year, selling at different conventions.”

“How fun.” I smile. “Well, welcome. You picked one of my favorites.” I’m about to wish her good luck and go on my way when my attention snags on a small sign she has propped up on the table: 10 Min Character Sketches for $20! There are a handful of examples—a winking elf, a brooding tiefling, a sultry dwarven woman—all drawn in free-form colorful lines.

“Actually,” I say, “are you free for a sketch?”

“Of course!” She smiles up at me and quickly smooths a hand over her blond hair before pulling out a small square of paper, several colored markers, and her phone, setting a timer. “Whenever you’re ready, just start describing your character to me, and I’ll begin. I’ll ask some extra questions along the way, and we’ll go from there.”

I think about how much Mona would love Sadie’s style, and how perfect Moss and her infectious grin would look sketched out in bright spring-green lines. But when I open my mouth, I say, “Her name is Sindra, and she’s my D&D character. She’s a tiefling fighter…”

Sadie’s pen moves quickly as I verbally paint a picture of Sindra and her ruby-red skin, long black hair, blunt bangs, and narrowed yellow eyes. I throw in some extra details, such as her worn armor and the brand-new gold sword she found in a dragon’s hoard.

“What is she like?” Sadie asks without looking up. “Her personality, attitude…What motivates her?”

I pause before answering. “Well, she’s blunt. Confident. Very protective of her friends. Sometimes funny in a, like, irreverent way. Brash. Um.” The artist’s last question echoes in my mind. What motivates her? Other than the quest to save the enclave and protecting Moss, I’m—hell, I’m drawing a blank. More than anything, I created her to be a good companion for Moss and to fill the gaps in the party makeup.

Maybe I haven’t developed Sindra’s backstory as thoroughly as I thought.

“That’s good, I can work with that,” Sadie soothes. She’s adding in bold red lines now, to highlight Sindra’s confident smirk and ready battle stance. “What’s your D&D campaign like?”

“It’s a gothic vampire campaign. The vampire has taken control of the kingdom and shrouded it in eternal night, and we’re trying to break the curse and defeat him.”

“Ooh, is he, like—redeemable?”

I blink. “What?”

“In my last game, it turned out that the villain wasn’t as bad as we thought.” Sadie smiles sheepishly. “Or maybe I just really love a redemption arc.”

“Enemies to lovers, even?” This time, the teasing words come from a low, masculine voice. I look up as a man sidesteps behind the booth and settles into the chair next to Sadie. With his purple robe, single silver earring, and longish dark hair pulled half up into a bun, his cosplay makes for an alarmingly convincing Gale of Waterdeep from Baldur’s Gate 3.

“No,” I snap quickly. I don’t know why I’m blushing at the thought; I pull my turtleneck closer to my ears. “No, they are not lovers. Vampires are evil. She’s trying to kill him.”

“Gale” shrugs, his teasing grin stretching his bearded face wide. “Shame.”

Sadie playfully swats at his arm before she passes the sketch to me. “Sorry about him,” she says in a tone so fond it’s not the least bit apologetic. “Here’s your sketch.”

Sindra grins up at me from the square of paper, looking infinitely more badass and self-assured than I’d ever imagined. There’s a funny little tug at the base of my chest, like seeing her captured this way has made me feel more connected to her. It makes me want to do her justice and get to know her better.

“Holy shit,” I murmur. I clear my throat, then laugh. “Wow, thank you so much—I love it.”

Sadie beams. “I’m so glad!”

Before I leave, I grab a few D&D class-themed stickers for my group—ranger, druid, paladin, wizard—and even a DM one for Wesley. I waffle on whether to get a DM one for myself, too, and eventually pluck a fighter sticker from the shelf instead. I pay for them and tip well for the sketch.

“Thank you again, and have fun on your trip.” I jerk my chin toward Sadie’s partner. “Nice cosplay.”

He bends forward in a little bow, smiling all the while, and Sadie offers me a friendly wave before turning her attention to a teenager dressed as a blue-skinned tiefling who runs up to the booth.

I trace my finger along the gold of Brightmorn’s blade on Sindra’s sketch before tucking the illustration carefully away.

I can’t wait to show the others.