Page 16 of Mytho Investigations: Side Stories

“Jesus Christ, Dad. Look around. No one gives a fuck.”

“Then by the time you are my age⁠—"

“If I reach your age⁠—"

“Stop interrupting. By the time you reach my age, there may be no pure-blood elves or ogres or vampires. We will cease to exist.”

“And? You won’t be here to see it. You have no idea how much longer you have left. You’re two hundred and sixty-six.”

“And if I have my full lifespan?” No one knew how long elves would live. There was so much unknown because of the collapse, and now magic was returning, and that changed everything again. He didn’t want to think that his son may only have human years. “I do not want to see another die.” He couldn’t. It had hurt too much the first time. He’d only gone on because of Lekso.

“You’re afraid of getting hurt?” Lekso frowned.

Vlash didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

“All my life, you’ve been fearless. My friends were in awe and also terrified. Your position touched every part of my life. It’s why I can’t join the army the way you want. Your bow is too big for me to draw. I know you think I’m a disappointment⁠—"

“I do not think that.” Lekso had adapted to the world in ways Vlash couldn’t.

“You act like you do.”

“If we were on Tariko⁠—"

Lekso groaned. “We aren’t, and you can’t live as though we are. Perhaps you need to put down your bow.”

“When I do that, there will not be another.” There wouldn’t be another king, either. They were already vanishing. The scrap of the world they’d once held was fraying.

Lekso stared about the window.

Vlash let the silence grow for several minutes. “Your mother would be proud of the man you are becoming.”

“Are you?” his son asked without looking at him.

“Yes. You grew up in a world I didn’t understand. While I tried to bridge the old and new, you leaped ahead.” Vlash sighed. Like his cousin, he was aware he was irrelevant. A relic.

Lekso turned his head. “I’m sure you can find a way forward if you choose to.”

But he understood the past. He knew what was expected as head archer. The rules were clear, yet they also bound him in place. Lekso was right; moving on did scare him because he didn’t know what that looked like in this world.

CHAPTER 9

Mason spent the ten days between the wedding and New Year’s Eve working, going to the gym twice—which had left him in worse shape than the hangover from the wedding—and packing up Bud’s things. He could’ve asked some of his friends to help. At least one of them would’ve come round, except for Jordan, who was on his honeymoon and enjoying some well-deserved time off and happiness.

Sean, too. Fuck, they’d all been through some shit over the last five years, and the whole time, he thought he was a stable one who was doing great. What a fucking lie.

And it was a lie, he told himself.

So the few tears he’d shed while boxing up clothes and video games and other paraphernalia that Bud had requested, and Mason didn’t care about enough to argue, had been about his own stupidity—which was much easier to see in hindsight.

If he hadn’t been so desperate to avoid being single, he would never have stayed so long. He’d already taken Bud’s name off the lease. And while he could afford the place on his own, it seemed rather big. Once the sofa, the TV, and entertainment unit were gone, it would be even emptier until he bought a new sofa and TV. He was not going to buy another leather cinema-style sofa with cup holders, though. That had been Bud’s dream sofa, not his. That kind of thing wasn’t built for snuggling up, which is what he wanted—for when he had someone to snuggle up with.

The idea of replacing what he was losing wasn’t all that bad. And he had a few months to decide if he wanted to stay there or if he wanted to move somewhere else. He was glad that Bud had insisted they keep renting until they married and decided where they were going to live. That was another sticking point because Mason wanted to remain in San Francisco.

So now he had freedom and some decisions to make. Sean had bought a house on his own, though it had been while the prices had been depressed because of the collapse, but he should be able to do it. His practice was doing well, and he had some savings.

If he added to it over the next few months, it could be a deposit.

He taped up the box that was full of clothes—he’d saved the bedroom for last—and took it downstairs to the entrance. He wanted to make that visit as quick as possible. He didn’t want to look at Bud and think he’d made a mistake by ending it.