14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Z oya

The late morning sunlight streams through the windows as Lash and I finish our breakfast, the comforting aroma of coffee and syrup lingering in the air. Miska prances around our feet, her tail wagging with excitement.

“I was thinking,” Lash says, leaning back in his chair, “before we head to the Naga Community Center, why don’t we take Miska to the park nearby? She could use some playtime, and it’s a beautiful day.”

“What’s at the Community Center?” It’s so thrilling that Lash has given our day so much thought. Max never wanted to do more than have me cook for him and “claim his husbandly rights,” as he used to put it.

“I think you’ll love it. That’s all I’m going to say.”

A small smile plays at his lips. I’m learning his moods. When he’s neutral, or pleased, the tips of his upper fangs peek out between his lips. When he’s happy or angry, the lower fangs are also on display. I’m still learning the difference between his threatening face and when he’s in a good mood.

“A surprise! That sounds perfect.” I smile, my heart warming at his thoughtfulness.

After stopping at the little grocery store inside the fenced Zone to buy a ball, we’re strolling through the small park, Miska bounding ahead, her little legs a blur. Lash tosses the ball, sending Miska into a frenzy of joyful yips and leaps.

I can’t help but laugh as I watch Lash play with her, his strong form crouched, his tail wagging in sync with Miska’s. There’s a lightheartedness to him here, a playful side that makes my heart flutter.

He looks up, catching my gaze. His grin is infectious. “Want a turn?” He holds out the ball, his silver eyes sparkling.

I join in, and soon we’re both breathless with laughter, taking turns tossing the ball for an ecstatic Miska. It’s a simple moment, but one filled with a joy I haven’t felt in longer than I can remember.

Though I’ve only known Lash a few days, I sometimes forget how different he is from me. Now, though, as he bounds across the grass, his furred tail wagging, the hair at the tips of his pointed ears translucent in the sun, the noises coming from deep in his chest more like animal yips than human words, it’s hard not to notice how… Other he is.

Instead of terrifying me or making me want to run in the other direction, I find him all the more attractive. Maybe it’s the way his wolven form is so masculine, or perhaps it’s just that he’s the nicest male I’ve ever spent time with.

You thought Max was a good man when you first met him, too, Zoya. I caution myself. Go slow. Stay safe.

As the sun sets, I wonder where the day has gone. I guess I can track the time: I rose late, cooked at my leisure, we played at the park with Miska, then swung on the swings as we talked about our childhoods. The discussion was tense, though neither of us mentioned it.

It was obvious that both of us were sharing only good memories, keeping the bad ones hidden inside for a time when we trust each other more.

After a quick purchase of roasted turkey legs from an orc street vendor, we’re finally on our way to the Naga community center. The happiness of the day with Lash buoys my steps. The distant rhythm of music and drumming draws us closer, promising wonder.

Stepping inside, I’m immediately transported. The hall is transformed into a shimmering oasis, with a shallow pool at its center, surrounded by lush foliage and intricate wooden carvings on thick wooden columns. Is this like his home place, An’Wa?

“Lash, this is magical,” I whisper, awestruck.

He smiles, pride evident in his voice as he explains the nagas’ resourcefulness in creating this sanctuary. I trail my fingers over the carved column of the naga goddess J’Dess, marveling at the artistry.

The room is filled with so many species from the Zone. I knew about nagas, orcs, minotaurs, and wolven, but there’s a blue fawn-like creature and a small, shy winged woman reminiscent of a fairy from a storybook. My chest feels full, expanded as I realize how well all these species get along, sitting side by side on the rising bleachers.

Lash’s large hand is splayed at the small of my back, steadying me. How can such a gentle touch convey so much emotion? I feel protected, maybe even cherished. I like the wolven’s touch. Shaking my head to get the thought out of my mind, I can’t help but wonder what those long, thick fingers would feel like as they touched other places on my body.

As the Naga performers begin their display, I find myself utterly entranced by their serpentine grace and fluid movements. They move in perfect sync as they approach the water from two doors at the rear. The room is filled with candlelight, which shimmers against the walls and makes the nagas’ scales even more vibrant in the glinting, soft light.

Lash and I watch, shoulder to shoulder, as the dancers weave their spell. I feel a growing sense of connection, of shared wonder.

It feels so comfortable, as if we’ve sat like this dozens of times, his hand pressed against my back, our knees touching as we lean forward for a better view. My favorite part is when Lash leans close, his breath warm and comforting as it grazes my cheek when he explains something.

“This is an ancient dance, welcoming the full moon.”

He grips my hip and tugs me even closer. Funny, it doesn’t seem sexual or intrusive. It’s as though he just wants me as close to him as possible.

“Keep your eyes peeled. Pretty soon, they’ll take to the water. They’re even more graceful in the pool.”

That’s hard to believe because the way they move on the Center’s floor is breathtaking.

In a lull between dances, an elderly Naga named Jaaved slides to the podium. Though his shoulders are stooped with age, his presence commands attention.

“Let me tell you the story of the Serpent’s Tear,” Jaaved begins, his voice rich and resonant. “A tale of bravery, sacrifice, and the power of love.”

Everyone in the audience seems to sit up straighter. The children, especially the little naginis, seem mesmerized before Jaaved even begins.

“In the misty valleys of An’Wa, there lived a powerful naga warrior named Zaahir. He was known for his strength, bravery, and his unwavering loyalty to his clan. One fateful season, a terrible drought struck the land, threatening to destroy everything the naga held dear.”

“Oh no!” Almost everyone in the audience—adults and children alike—gasps in concern. Clearly, this isn’t the first time they’ve heard this story. It’s almost as though the audience response is just as scripted as the tale itself.

“Zaahir set out on a perilous journey to find the Serpent’s Tear, a legendary gem said to have the power to bring life-giving rains. Along the way, he encountered Naia, a mysterious creature from the distant mountains, with legs instead of a tail and skin that shimmered like starlight.”

“What was she like, grandfather?” asks one nagini in the front row. While almost everyone else in the audience is in street clothes, this little one is in traditional batik-dyed garb.

Lash leans close and confirms my unspoken question. “The young male is turning ten this moon. It is an honor to be able to ask the question.”

I’m only half listening to the answer, because the other part of my attention is focused on Lash’s tight grip on my waist and the way he’s resting his chin on the top of my head.

“Naia was different from anyone Zaahir had ever met. At first, he was wary of her strange appearance and customs. But as they faced challenges together, Zaahir learned to see beyond their differences.”

Jaaved spins the tale of Zaahir, the brave naga warrior who sacrificed so much to save his village. His gravelly voice fills my imagination with pictures of An’Wa and nagas and strange beasts. I’m completely transported and deeply moved.

“They battled fearsome beasts and overcame treacherous obstacles. Naia’s wisdom complemented Zaahir’s strength, and together they were unstoppable. When they finally reached the Serpent’s Tear, they discovered that only a union of two different beings could activate its power.”

“Without hesitation, Zaahir and Naia joined hands, their trust in each other awakening the gem’s magic. The rains returned to An’Wa, saving Zaahir’s people. But the magic came at a price. Naia could never return to her mountain home, and Zaahir’s form was forever changed, gaining the ability to walk on two legs.”

“Their sacrifice ensured the survival of the naga, and their love became a symbol of the strength found in embracing those different from ourselves. And so, to this day, we honor their courage and the power of love to overcome all barriers.”

“And that is the tale of Zaahir,” Jaaved concludes. “Now let our naga troupe entertain you with their synchronized swimming routines.”

The nagas ease into the water in a graceful flurry of colorful scales and undulating tails. I watch in awe as they glide through the pool, their movements fluid and mesmerizing. The air is thick with the scent of incense and fresh flowers, and the gentle splashing of water against the pool’s edge creates a soothing rhythm.

Lash’s arm tightens around my waist as we lean forward, utterly captivated. His warmth seeps through my dress, and I find myself melting into his embrace. It’s a new sensation, feeling so safe and cherished in someone’s arms. Especially after everything I’ve been through.

The nagas twist and turn in perfect unison, their jewel-toned scales catching the candlelight and casting shimmering reflections on the water’s surface. They form intricate patterns, weaving in and out of each other’s paths with breathtaking precision.

“Wow,” I breathe, unable to tear my gaze away. “They’re incredible.”

Lash hums in agreement, the sound vibrating through me. “Amazing. Almost as amazing as you.”

My cheeks flush at the compliment, and I duck my head to hide my smile. Lash chuckles softly, his fingers gently gripping my waist. The casual intimacy of the gesture sends a shiver down my spine.

As the nagas continue their mesmerizing dance, I let myself fully relax into Lash’s embrace. The troubles of the past, the worries about the future… they all fade away, replaced by a profound sense of peace and belonging.

As the dancers retake the stage for their final performance, I feel a shift within myself. A growing feeling of calm. For the swiftest moment, I wonder if, for the first time in my life, I’m right where I’m meant to be.