"Gateway Of Dragons"
by Lexi Lavene

Hundreds of Realms empty out into the Gateway Of Dragons, archways of starlight surround the main dinning room. Archways that deliver back and forth across the continuum. This prestigious restaurant rates as the finest in all the 423 Realms.

A simple murmured incantation helps me leave my Realm by a bubble of atmosphere, shaped like a diamond. Cold and lifeless, this bubble leaves tingles running up my spine, a thousand tiny fingers, massaging out my worries. In a moment, though, it's over; the bubble plunks me in one of the entrances to the Gateway Of Dragons.

In the mahogany colored room, illumination given by starlight lamps, brought in from the Realm of Starlight. Twinkling in mystery, the lamps appear to be moving throughout the room, when the stars, in actuality, are pulsing within. Private booths, hidden by long velvet sheets of wild orchid purple, tied back with a cord of carefully woven sunshine, tucked into archways and crevices. A hush overwhelms the thick air, amid the silence comes a soft crooning from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

The hostess, Mira Cleo, strolls over, a huge, overly flashy smile on her ashen face. Scarlet lipstick assaults her lips like blood across the moon. Eyes of powder blue hypnotize the dancing tendrils of blonde hair that cascade over her forehead. Sunlight has never touched her bony form. "Greetings, Kitty," she says to me, her voice violates my eardrums, nails on a chalkboard. She speaks only Latin, a language I happen to be fluent in, thank the gods. "Etheain has not arrived yet, do you wish to be seated?"

"Yes, Mira, just send him over when he arrives." Mira nods to me, and I head over to our usual table. It sits just beyond a wooden, crescent shaped archway, shrouded in royal velvet, alight with starlight. For nearly two centuries, we have been meeting here. Always for simply a drink, I am forever doomed to be 19, he to be 22. Dear Etheain came up with this splendid idea, since we really have nothing better to do with an eternity of Friday nights.

In the booth beside me, I hear Jeneva and Ricard arguing pitifully, as always. Jeneva claims that he never listens, Ricard states that he would listen, if he could hear. Deafness plagues him. Perhaps, if they did not share the same body, they'd be able to see eye to eye. In the booth across from me sits Deej, he stands at a thrilling height of three inches. Wearing his usual black top hat, and midnight blue overcoat, he raises his glass in a toast to himself, as he mumbles. Fire red hair deepens the rosy color of his cheeks against his freckled face. An Irish accent floats with his words, "Damn those mortals, always wishin' and wishin'. All I'm wishin' for is a refill."

The scent of dusk drifts to my nose, the cider-sweet smell of the air just before dark comes. Instantly, I know that Etheain has arrived. He swaggers around the corner, and slides into the booth beside me. Leaning over, he gently kisses my cheek. "Hello, Kitten," he whispers. He instinctively turns his head as Deej grumbles, slightly louder about 'those damn mortals'. Etheain hides his smile, born a mortal, given the power of immortality by his ability to travel the Realms. "I hope you didn't wait long." I shake my head, I never have to wait long for Etheain.

We hadn't even the time to begin our normal chit chat before our waiter, a young elf, with pointy ears and a devious grin, appears beside us. Neither of us notices his quick approach, that's the problem with
the fey. "I am called Flame, I will be your server this evening." His tight silver pants glimmer in the lights, while the vest he wears shimmers from blue to gray as he moves. Atop his head sits a poof of translucently silver hair, seen only through the dim sparkles of starlight coming from the lamp above. "What would you like?"

As always, Etheain answers for me, as well as himself. "My stunning companion will have a Dragon's Blood, and I shall have a Dwarves Tongue, on the rocks. Do hurry, we only have an eternity." Flame nodded, scrawls our order down and vanishes from sight. "Amazing," Etheain whispers. Reaching for my hand, he smiles. "How was your week, my love?"

My Love, ancient as the clouds, strangely new, something about it, tonight. He has called me my love since we met, nearly a millennium ago, in my realm. "Pleasant enough," I reply, trying to sound peaceful. We both know that I have a more stressful job then I let on. He smiles at me as I lean closer, to kiss his cheek. Something in his response makes me linger, something in his reaction makes me want to slide closer, yet I pull away. "How was yours?"

A devious smile adorns his lips as he replies, "I found a hidden realm, can't remember the spell, though." I giggle, not because of his silly face, but because he did the same thing to me, only he forgot how
to get back to his realm. "I don't think the occupants wished to be found. They threw fruit at me." Again, I giggle. Deej looks up from his drink, and begins swearing under his breath, most likely about me, disturbing his drink. "On the bright side, I have a lovely fruit salad at home." An incredibly cheesy smile completed the sentence, I had to laugh harder. Neither of us see Flame as our drinks appear at the table. I take a sip. Made from the juice of the Gandolf plant, and the sap of the Dragon's Tree, the sugary sweet taste captures your tastebuds in rapture. Etheain's order, Dwarves Tongue, consists of the leaves of the Netra plant, shaped like dwarves tongues. The tartness could pucker one's lips for weeks at a time, however, Etheain drinks it as if it's nothing.

I am exhausted from my week, and I can tell Etheain's shoulders are sagging. Fatigue by his near death-by-peaching saddens his eyes. I suggest we leave, thankfully he agrees. I am advanced in my magik skills, but not advanced enough to take on Etheain Meriwhether, one of the most powerful sorcerers in all the Realms. Etheain's tab picks up the bill, since his power can be used to pay, out of ours combined. On our way to the portal, Etheain slips his hand into mine. Never before has he been so forward. Just as we reach the exit, he pulls me to a stop. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Deej jump down from the table and stumble toward the same exit. "My love, come to my Realm." I cock an eyebrow, unsure of his meaning. "Join me tonight, join me forever." Something in me leaps, my heart hits my throat, pounding wildly. I choked back the desire to burst out yes. Just as I open my mouth to speak, he whispers. "Please, Kitten. I have waited nearly a millennium for you, don't make me wait another." Deej brushes past my ankles, grumbling about those "damn mortals".

In that exact moment, I knew why I have come here every Friday night for two hundred years. "Yes, Etheain, I will." His eyes overflow with incredible disbelief and joy as he pulls me close and kisses me, I shall savor it forever. We disappear into our own little atmospheric bubble, and for once in my life, the tingling never stopped.