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“I lead a very quiet life as you can imagine.”
“You’ve missed a lot.”
“I suppose you could view it that way, and maybe I have, but I don’t necessarily feel that way. Do you think your life has been lacking?”
Malik frowned slightly. “Good question, so the answer would have to be similar to yours: yes and no. I guess I don’t think in those terms. Mostly, I want to fulfill my duties as mastyr to the best of my ability.”
“And I want to protect the people here.” She gestured to a group of children playing by a large fountain in the middle of the street. They weren’t in any real danger – the colony having no cars, just bicycles and donkey-driven carts.
A couple of the children in wraith form, half-ran and half-flew in their direction. The older ones did a couple of intricate loops in the air. The wraith form was somewhat elongated and very lightweight compared to the sturdier fae or other realm-folk physiques.
The oldest girl landed on her feet, not as a wraith but as a fae.
“Very neat trick,” he called out.
She beamed, showing the loss of two front teeth. “Thank you, Mastyr. So, are you going to marry Willow? We hope you do. We all love her.”
She grabbed Willow’s hand, and he saw the blush that climbed Willow’s cheeks.
You’re beloved here, he pathed.
And I love this community.
A young boy wraith, struggling to hold himself steady in the air, looked at Malik. “Will you give us a toss?”
Malik smiled. “Where’s your mother?”
The boy gestured with a jerk of his chin. Malik turned toward the adult in question, “Will you allow it, Mistress?”
The woman, in her fae form, nodded. “He’s old enough, but thank you for asking.”
Malik picked the boy up and with a one-two-three, tossed him high in the air.
The boy squealed as he did a few flips then drifted into a careful flight to the ground. “Again?”
Of course the sight of one boy having fun, brought children clustering around his knees. He had only one recourse and repeated the process over and over, always checking with the nearby parent. More than one toddler got led away crying because mama refused.
He spent the next half hour tossing child after child into the air and watching the delicate loops each could make while in their wraith form.
Malik hadn’t enjoyed himself this much in a long time. He rarely stopped in any of the villages to talk or play with the children.
Eventually, he called a halt and continued to the ice cream shop, ordering lemon for Willow and toffee for himself. He sat with her outside on a bench in one of at least a dozen narrow grassy belts that ran down the center of the street.
Many wraiths, usually in fae form and a few actually sporting feathers like Illiandra, came by and thanked him for his service and for his support of half-breeds in Ashleaf.
A small wraith toddler, levitating while holding onto the bench and anything else she could reach, finally found Malik and held her arms up to him. He glanced at her mother who nodded her acquiescence.
He lifted the light-as-a-feather girl and she promptly relaxed against him leaning her head into the crook of Malik’s neck. He continued chatting with Willow about the various wraith villages he’d spotted from the air in between licking his cone and holding the child.
When Willow fell silent, he asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No, not at all, but are you aware that the baby has fallen asleep on your shoulder?”
“Oh, I guess she has.”
“Malik, have you ever had kids?”
“No.”
