Ryon

The kemat's fur shimmered from deep indigo to vivid turquoise as Ranna stroked its back, giggling at the color change. I watched my little sister play in the garden, trying to ignore the itch of curiosity gnawing at me.

What were they talking about in there?

"Ryon?" Ranna's bright eyes found mine. "Tell me about the human."

Leaning back against the ornate bench, I exhaled slowly. "Her name is Savannah. She has brilliant red hair and eyes like polished emeralds." My mind conjured her image, a vibrant splash of color against the monochrome decor of the estate's halls.

"Is she nice?" Ranna clutched the kemat close, her gaze eager.

I tilted my head, considering. "Nicer than you'd expect, given the demanding tone of her summons." I pulled a flower from the vine, plucking at its teal and orange petals. "She seems...curious. Open. Not at all put off by our differences."

Ranna tilted her head, feathers fluffing. "But I've seen vids of Earthlings. They look so strange! No wings, no beak..." She paused, blinking. "How does she eat?"

"With her mouth, little spark. No beak needed." Stretching my wings, I allowed the afternoon sun rays to warm my feathers. "She struggled with the beverage bowls at first. I had them bring her a more suitable cup."

"You helped her?" Ranna's eyes grew wide, and the kemat squirmed in her grasp, shifting to a brilliant shade of teal.

"Of course." The words slipped out, my tone softer than intended. "She's our guest."

But was that all Savannah was? A fleeting visitor to be entertained before returning to her world? The thought left an odd hollowness in my chest, one I couldn't explain.

Ranna's voice cut through my musings. "Will she stay for the Starfall Festival? I want to show her the meteor showers!"

"I don't know, spark." My gaze drifted towards the estate's elegant spires. What was happening within those walls? Why had Father dismissed me so curtly?

Ranna pouted, and the kemat shifted hue once more, settling on a deep crimson that matched the ribbons of her dress. "I hope she can stay. I want to be her friend!"

I forced a smile, ruffling her feathers. "We'll see, little one."

"Ryon."

My mother"s familiar tone pulled me from my reverie. I turned to see Varie approaching, Savannah trailing slightly behind her. A flush crept up my neck as I realized Savannah must have overheard at least part of my rambling.

Ranna shot me a sly look before rising to greet our mother, the kemat cradled protectively in her arms. With a gentle tug, she guided Varie away, leaving Savannah and I alone amidst the lush foliage.

The human looked pale, her usual vibrant demeanor replaced by a shaky unease. Concern washed over me, and I quickly guided her to a nearby bench.

"Savannah? Are you well?" I asked, my feathers instinctively puffing out in distress.

She exhaled slowly, her shoulders rising and falling with the breath. "I think...I might have bitten off more than I can chew with this wedding."

I tilted my head, unfamiliar with the odd human phrase. "I don"t understand."

A small, rueful smile played across her lips. "It means I may have taken on more than I can handle." She met my gaze, her green eyes brimming with a vulnerability that tugged at my heartstrings. "Ryon, I need your help."

Those four words reverberated through me, stirring a strange, possessive yearning I couldn"t quite name. All I knew was that I wanted - needed - to be the one she relied on.

"I was hoping we could arrange some bonding activities for Helko and Sharlar," Savannah continued, mistaking my silence for confusion. "A chance for them to get to know each other better before the wedding."

I blinked, her words finally registering. Of course, she didn"t mean... My throat felt unbearably tight as I swallowed hard.

"That"s an excellent idea," I managed, willing my ruffled feathers to settle. "Though I"m not sure how much help I can provide."

Savannah"s brow furrowed in that achingly familiar way. "Well, we could start with some kind of activity, right? Anything has to be better than the painful silence I witnessed earlier."

I bobbed my head in agreement, grateful for her practicality grounding me once more. An idea began to form, one that could allow Helko and Sharlar to interact without the weight of family expectations bearing down on them.

"I may have a suggestion," I said, my voice regaining its usual confidence. "But you"ll have to trust me."

Utensils jangled,ingredients scattered across the countertops like they had a life of their own. I stood there, feathers fluffing up slightly, trying to keep my cool in this strange new battlefield.

Savannah was soaking it all in, her eyes wide with excitement as she picked up a long, pronged tool. "This is amazing," she whispered, twirling it like a wand.

"Whoa, careful with that!" I gently nudged her hand away. "That's a vektrik skewer—sharp as a politician's tongue." I couldn't help but stroke the soft skin of her finger. "We don't want to lose a finger before we even start."

She shot me a playful glare, but before she could fire back, our instructor waddled over—a portly Draen with feathers mottled in fifty shades of brown.

"Welcome, welcome!" he boomed, his wings flapping excitedly. "Today, we're making a classic Teloriln delicacy—spiced terksha wraps."

Just then, Helko and Sharlar joined us. The tension between them was thick enough to slice with one of those vektrik skewers. My brother gave Savannah a terse nod, while Sharlar looked at the ingredients like they were about to come to life and attack her.

The instructor droned on about the recipe, but my focus drifted to Savannah. The way she was so engrossed, hanging on every word—it was utterly adorable.

A sharp elbow in my side snapped me back to reality. Helko gave me a look that said, "Get your head out of the clouds." Oops, the class had moved on to actual cooking.

Grabbing a small blade, I tried to mimic the instructor's slicing technique on the terksha root. The purple veggie was tougher than it looked, and my cuts were more like mangled chunks. Savannah stifled a giggle next to me.

"Like this," Helko said, with that annoying hint of impatience he always has. He took the knife and diced the root into perfect cubes like it was nothing. I glared at him, but he just shrugged with that infuriatingly smug look.

A yelp drew our attention. Sharlar was clutching her hand, feathers all ruffled. The instructor hurried over, carefully prying her fingers apart to reveal a red welt.

"Ah, the zyrra peppers," he said, shaking his head. "Their oils can irritate the skin."

As Sharlar nursed her hand, Savannah stepped in, wrapping a kitchen towel around her fingers and dicing the peppers like a pro. I couldn't help but admire her quick thinking and, well, the delicate curve of her jaw as she worked.

The pungent smell of something burning pulled everyone's attention. Helko cursed under his breath as he yanked a tray of charred protein strips from the oven. My feathers fluffed up in amusement at his defeated look.

"Timing's a bit off, huh, brother?" I teased.

His glare could have melted durasteel. "Like you could do better."

Determined to prove him wrong, I grabbed a big stirring spoon and started mixing the ingredients together. Maybe a bit too enthusiastically, because next thing I knew, the spiced mixture was flying everywhere, splattering us all in bright orange goo.

Savannah burst out laughing, and even Sharlar cracked a smile. My feathers were now a lovely shade of pumpkin.

As the instructor fussed over the mess, I caught Savannah's eye. We shared a look, her laughter still sparkling in her eyes. Maybe this cooking class wasn't such a disaster after all.