Hatching Epilogue

Several years pass between our stopping point and where we are about to go.

Our heroes went through great changes, as all people ascending to adulthood do. Zeyh grew taller and more broad-shouldered, he let his hair grow and hang over his face just a bit. He graduated from gold school cloaks to purple, as did Ama.

Ama had grown up and filled out, and someone who had only known her as the scared, beaten little girl of days long past would never recognize her now, with lilac streaks running through her chestnut hair to match the frames of the glasses she had acquired at fifteen.

Inside, they had stayed almost exactly the same people. They just got happier, and perhaps a bit more amplified. Zeyh was still funny, goofy, caring, loving, and infinitely protective; Ama was still happy, hyper, adoring, motherly, intelligent and very beautiful now that she had the confidence to let her inner self through.

Ama’s father had gone to prison for a very long time, twenty years, but the remorseful Drop man had called his half-Flyer daughter and begged her for forgiveness. He had discovered the Christian faith, seen the error of his ways, and went in for extra counseling. The therapy was doing him a world of good, and Ama looked forward to the time she could spend with her father the renewed man.

Zeyh’s mother, true to Crista’s word, had taken Ama in immediately. Zeyh’s mother herself had pull in the legality of the matter- Zeyh’s father had been a high-standing, honorable man in the FAF, Flyer Armed Forces, and in respect for his memory there were plenty of men willing to tweak a few technicalities and put together a process of making Ama a live-in that was as quick and painless as possible, for all concerned, not only the girl and her dragon.

The law tended to cooperate in cases such as hers- A watchful, responsible eye on the young lovebirds, the biological mother unable to support Ama, the child a dear friend of the family, and one social worker saw just how deeply in love Zeyh and Ama were and she gave an all-green light.

And the real kicker was- Zeyh and Ama never fell out of love. Their relationship didn’t disintegrate and blow away as so many relationships at their age do. In fact, if you looked quite closely at them when they were together, you could see the tender loving give-and-take that you usually only find in happily married couples. In fact, one day they planned to be a ‘happily married couple’. They wore silver promise rings on their fingers, forsaking all others, until they were twenty-one and could be married.

Most people would think that living in the same house would cause a ‘problem’ with them, a ‘problem’ that might end up with a child, but no. Those promise rings meant more than just a promise of marriage- they were a promise of love, respect, and the keeping of oneself for the time of marriage. It was a promise both of them had dutifully kept, under their own will and Zeyh’s mother’s watchful gaze.

This was a good change, having another female in the house- for Saulo and Xavier had grown up much in this time as well.

Xavier grew into a promising young actor, and was finally discovered by a Drop producer who made him into a real star. Xavier was the romantic lead in ten films, each getting wondrously good reviews, and then he finally got his dream- his next project was a Japanese horror film, done in a revolutionary new style to incorporate anime-style wardrobe and makeup, a thrilling, complex plot and an all-star cast to counter. Xavier had never been happier in his life.

Happiness was also abundant in Saulo’s life- on a recent trip to the land of the Tides he had met and fell in love with a beautiful half-mermish girl named Faye, and in this month of August where we meet our heroes once again, he is getting married in the grandest church in their entire world.

All on Xavier’s bill, (and he had let them spare no expense,) the church was decorated lavishly in sky-blue, the color of the Flyers, and dark teal, the color of the Tides. Silk was draped over everything; sprays of flowers in the two world-colors as well as white roses peeked out of every crevice, scenting the air lightly. Haunting organ music, the traditional tunes of Faye’s people, shook the rafters gently while light trilling of piccolos and violins sent delicious needles up and down the listener’s spine, blending in the mellow voices of cellos and bass to form a inexpressibly spectacular melody; the pews were draped in silk, sky-blue on the left for Saulo’s guests, dark teal on the right for Faye’s guests; and sunlight floated gently in through the bits of colored glass that made up the cathedral’s magnificent domed roof.

Behind the scenes, the beautiful dark-haired bride waited in her beautiful white dress, while Zeyh, in a blue tuxedo, stood with Ama. Ama looked a mite out-of-place, in her purple summer dress and sleek digital camera resting in one hand, Zeyh’s clunky black flying boots on her feet. Originally, Zeyh’s mother had not wanted her to dress like that, but Faye had been so pleased with the joyfulness and uniqueness the outfit showed that Zeyh’s mother let her be.

Ama was sniffling as Zeyh ashen-facedly straightened his tie. For once, the poor girl was not weeping from great emotional stress, rather she had been laughing so hard she was crying. Zeyh was a ring bearer in his brother Saulo’s wedding, and Ama had never seen a more nervous boy in all her life.

“I’m going to trip,” he said, looking a bit green.

“No you’re not,” she assured him, swiftly kissing him on the cheek and pushing him gently towards the aisle, camera at the ready. She didn’t want to miss a precious moment of this. “You are going to be so great.”

True to his word, as always, Zeyh tripped. But it was a luckily placed trip, near the altar, so it looked as if he has fallen to his knees to give up the ring. It was dramatic, yes, maybe even a bit better placed at Xavier’s wedding than at Saulo’s, but at least Zeyh hadn’t tripped midway down the aisle and gotten his face full of white rose petals. So, true to Ama’s word, he was great.

Later there was a grand reception on the roof of the finest hotel in the world. The colors were the same, perhaps a bit mellower, and the stars shone clear over the dance floor and the tables. It was a gorgeous late summer night- A bit chilly, perhaps, but only enough to be refreshing as a soft breeze blew through the strings of lights that were hung everywhere.

Ama was going through the pictures on her digital camera in the corner while Zeyh went and danced with the bride. There were several of Zeyh looking pained in his tuxedo, several of Faye in her dress, one of a very green-looking Saulo and three of the now-famous Xavier making faces at the camera. And, lo and behold- she found that she had accidentally taken a video of the exact moment when Zeyh’s feet stumbled at the altar.

“Oh Ze-eyh!!! I have something to show you!” she called in a teasing sing-song voice as he made his way back to the table.

“Hold on,” he said, taking off his tux jacket and loosening his tie. “God Almighty I hate formalwear. Now, what’s up?”

Giggling, she showed him the video. He looked horrified.

“Don’t you dare show anyone that!” he cried, trying to take the camera from her. She teasingly held it away from him. Getting up so she wouldn’t knock over the chair, she ran around, skirting the side of the dance floor. He chased her.

“Nope! Nope! No way, Zeyh! This’ll go over so great at the senior class party!” she said, dashing away into the hotel, down the maintenance stairs. The lights overhead were orange and shabby, flickering, and she raced down the broad hallways with their faded carpeting.

“You’d better not,” he said, laughing and giving chase. He caught her in a damp cement hallway where water dripped from the ceiling in the corners and it was only a little warmer than outdoors.

Tackling her from behind, he picked her up easily and all but swung her over his shoulder, easily getting the camera away from her even as she struggled.

“Now what are you going to do?” she sighed, glad to be back on the ground but mourning the torn hem of her purple summer dress.

“Erase it!” he said, searching for the button.

“You will not!” she cried, going for the camera, more to distract him than anything else.

“Oh, yes I will!” he sprinted out of her arm’s range.

“Oh, no you will… not!” Ama leaped at him, wrestling the camera away and teasingly holding it well out of his reach.

A brief wrestling-style scuffle ensued. First it was only playing around, then Ama accidentally knocked Zeyh over. There was some wrestling about on the ground, Zeyh finally pinning Ama, only to have the camera fly out of reach. When the had scrambled to it, they found that it had all been for naught- the batteries were out.

Truce was breathlessly, laughingly called.

“We… are getting… FAR… too old… to be doing that…” Zeyh puffed, lying on the ground next to Ama.

She laid his head against her chest and he snuggled close willingly. “Aw, why? We’re only eighteen.”

“You’re only eighteen. I personally will be nineteen in five days, thank you very much.”

“You’re still eighteen for the time being and just because you are four months older than me means almost nothing,” Ama said stubbornly, sitting up.

Zeyh looked around, puzzled at the shabby hallway they were in. “Isn’t everyone going to wonder where we’ve gotten to?”

Ama’s eyes widened. “They’re going to think…!”

Quickly, they stood up, clicked their promise rings together, and ran up to the roof again.

“What happened to you two?” the beautiful Faye asked, as she was sitting at their table when they got back. She had dark hair that she said was black but everyone swore it was navy blue, her eyes were light blue fringed with the dark navy of her long eyelashes, her skin pale and glowing with a sheen such as one only attains underwater. She was a sixth mermish, and so lovely and charming that everyone loved her very well.

“A little mishap with the camera,” Ama said.

“I don’t call that mishap ‘little’, Ama,” Zeyh said.

“Well, Xavier will be relieved,” Faye remarked casually, “You’re still wearing your promise rings.”

Zeyh blanched. “I’ll kill him. How dare he imply…”

Ama stared him down. “He’s not worth it, love.”

“Guess you’re right. Care to dance?” he asked.

“On three conditions,” Ama said, “One, we can’t be wearing roller skates. Two, there will be no hip-hip involved. And Three, the punch had better not be spiked.”

He laughed.

“I wonder how Crista and Damiaan are doing at home,” he remarked as they went onto the dance floor for a slow dance.

“Same old, same old I expect,” Ama said. “Believe it or not, I want to go home. All this wedding stuff is just getting crazy.”

“Ama, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Zeyh said as they danced.

“Hmm?” Ama said, raising her head from his chest.

“Are you sure you want to marry me someday?”

Ama looked at him. “I’m sure I’ve found something to love.”

The End.