Stella's kindness has made Tōga feel at home in this wondrous new land. The countryside spreads out before him in a tapestry of vibrant colors, the landscape kindling his imagination at every turn. The people here match the beauty around them - humble, welcoming folk who have embraced this foreign visitor with open arms. Tōga's first week has been an adventure, taking him through sweeping vistas and charming villages, the days filled with discovery and the nights with laughter and song. He knows not what lies ahead as he continues his journey across this magical countryside, but with Stella's warmth as his guide, he trusts the path will lead him to joy.

After hours of trekking and gathering directions from kindly strangers, Tōga finally arrives at the fabled mountain city of Giran. His auburn eyes widen with wonder at the architectural marvels before him. Giran sprawls across steep mountainsides, bridges arching gracefully to connect neighborhoods perched at dizzying heights. Tōga's gaze traces the web of walkways, his heart soaring as freely as the eagles wheeling overhead. This city, harmoniously blended with the dramatic landscape, kindles his imagination. What adventures and discoveries await within its walls? With each step Tōga takes into Giran, his excitement builds. The mountain air fills his lungs, carrying scents of spice and sound of distant song. Here is a place where nature and civilization thrive as one—a living monument to the heights humans can reach while still grounded in the ancient bones of the earth. Tōga knows this magnificent city will fuel his wanderlust even as it soothes his weary soul.

As Tōga steps from the carriage into Giran's bustling streets, his body unfurls from the rigid posture held during the long journey. He pauses to revel in the simple pleasure of movement, stretching his arms overhead as the setting sun's rays warm his skin. The city envelops him in its lively embrace - merchants' calls ring through the crisscrossing alleys, enticing aromas drift from street food carts, musicians pipe a cheerful melody. Tōga feels the thrill of adventure stirring within him once more. With a grin, he runs his fingers through his distinctive pink spikes of hair, then plunges into the city's currents. His brightly hued head bobs through the crowd, catching glances and smiles, before disappearing around a corner. Wherever the winding streets lead, whatever discoveries await, Tōga embraces it all. This city is now his to explore. His temporary home. And he intends to uncover all its secrets, one delightful day at a time.

As he wanders the lively streets, a weathered sign catches Tōga's eye - "The Old Hag" is etched into the aged wood in faded letters. Intrigued, he follows an impulse and steps inside the dim tavern. His senses come alive - the tang of pipe smoke, the low murmur of patrons' voices, the creak of well-worn furniture. It's an atmosphere of comfort and refuge, a shelter from the bustling city outside. Tōga settles atop a stool at the bar, the day's journey resting heavy in his muscles. The grizzled bartender gives him a nod and soon returns with a frothy mug. The first sip is bliss - crisp and cool, washing the dust from Tōga's throat. As he drinks deep, savoring the taste, his stomach rumbles in anticipation. Hearty aromas waft from the kitchen, speaking of stews simmering and breads baking. Here, Tōga knows he will find food for his body and his soul. In this unassuming refuge, this restful pause along his endless path of adventure, he is restored.

---

wc: 592

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The tavern hummed with eager chatter about the upcoming Day of the Dead festivities. Though Tōga had arrived in Giran only moments prior, he could see these celebrations were deeply important traditions for the townspeople and all of Stella. In his travels across the land's majestic landscapes and hidden gems, Tōga couldn’t ignore the true soul of the country—its people. Their joy and traditions breathed life into the places he explored. Now, as preparations began for the lively holiday, Tōga felt enveloped by the community's infectious spirit. He may have been a newcomer, but he was no longer a stranger. The holiday's magic had woven him into the fabric of Giran.

Tōga gazed in wonder at the festive scene unfolding before him in the tavern. Patrons were adorned in dazzling hues and elaborate costumes to celebrate Dia de los Muertos. Men and women wore vivid face paint in intricate designs, donned flashy embroidered finery, and embellished their outfits with feathered hats and jangling jewelry. He had glimpsed these revelries around Santalicia in days prior, as the celebrations seemed woven into the fabric of the country. The holiday was a vibrant tribute to loved ones who had embarked on new adventures beyond this world. As fond stories and memories were shared around him, Tōga felt enveloped in the spirit of community. Laughter and reminiscence filled the tavern with an air of joyful remembrance. Tōga regretted not having a more than a mask to fully join the festivities. The creative splendor of the people's outfits and the poignant traditions behind them enthralled him. He realized then how much he had missed in not truly understanding this culture before - now he was eager to become part of its living tapestry. This "Old Hag" may have been an odd name, but her people were as youthful and joyful in spirit as any he had encountered.

The Dragon Slayer plunged a hand into the depths of his worn leather satchel, rummaging in its dark confines. His fingers toggled over scrolls, potions, and tools until finally, inspiration struck. He grasped the object of his search - the ornate dragon mask received in a distant Stellan city. With a flourish, he withdrew it and placed the mask atop the table. He knew once the ale had reddened his cheeks and loosened his inhibitions, the mask would be a necessary accompaniment for the night's revelries. For now, it would remain at the ready, its jeweled eyes glinting in the tavern's flickering light. The Dragon Slayer allowed himself a smile, anticipating the mischief and mayhem such a disguise would permit. When the time came, he would don his dragon visage and fully embrace the chaos and camaraderie of the holiday celebration.

Tōga's sharpened senses twitched as a newcomer entered the tavern. Though none of the other patrons noticed, her presence became known to Tōga long before she approached. His keen sense of smell detected something uniquely different and almost mysterious about her - her scent was coiled in darkness yet had a chilling warmth of vitality. As she drew closer, taking a seat nearby, Tōga's nose wrinkled reflexively, reading invisible clues in the air. His heightened awareness tingled, discerning details that eluded normal perception. Everything about this stranger signaled she was more than she appeared. Tōga remained outwardly relaxed, but his inner senses focused intently, unraveling the enigma of this fascinating new arrival through the secret language of scent and instinct. There was much more to be discovered here - Tōga needed only to follow the trail his nose had uncovered.

"Cheers to being strangers!" Tōga exclaimed, his auburn eyes glinting behind half-closed lids as a broad smile lit up his face. With careless enthusiasm, he clinked his overflowing mug against the newcomer's, frothy mead splashing in all directions from the forceful impact. Unconcerned with the sticky specks now dotting the tavern floor, Tōga beamed with the gregarious spirit of the holiday. Though they had only just met, he felt a sense of camaraderie with this mysterious woman. On this day of celebration, they were kindred spirits embracing the magic of unexpected connections. Differences mattered not - today, all were united in revelry.

As Tōga's eyes fluttered open, the newcomer's striking appearance captivated his gaze. She had sun-kissed tan skin and eccentric, moonlight-blue hair cascading in messy strands from a loose bun. Intricate symmetrical markings accentuated her decoratively clothed figure, their significance a mysterious allure. But most mesmerizing were her eyes - bright golden orbs, luminous as a full moon, that shone against her brown canvas like stars kindling the night. She was a vision, her unconventional beauty as intoxicating as the hearty swig she took from her overflowing mug. Clearly no stranger to the tavern festivities, she looked to be a drinker as bold and free-spirited as Tōga himself. What an intriguing pairing they made - the thrill-seeking wanderer and this exotic, golden-eyed siren. Tōga grinned as their eyes locked in a wordless toast, sensing the promise of adventures to come with this fascinating new compatriot.

"Name's Tōga, pleasure to meet ya," he introduced himself with a grin, taking another hearty swig from his mug. Though a Rune Knight by trade, today he opted to omit his title. On a day of celebration like this, they were all simply revelers and adventuresome spirits. Tenure and rank mattered little - today was meant for conviviality among strangers from all walks of life. With mead flowing freely, barriers came down and connections could bloom organically. Tōga preferred it this way, conversing with newcomers unhindered by preconceptions. He sought not to impress or posture, merely to embrace the holiday's spirit of unity. On this day, they were travelers sharing tales, their differences melting away with each toast. He smiled widely at his enigmatic drinking companion, eager to discover what fascinating insights their unguarded exchange might reveal.

“Here for the day of the dead festivities?”

---

wc: 985 [1577]

597_1654

With each sip of his drink, the day grew ever more intriguing for Tōga. Outwardly, he embodied the naivete of a newborn hatchling - eager to explore the world, oblivious to any dangers that may lurk. He happily scampered towards the unknown, lured by the promise of something new and undiscovered. This outward persona captured the essence of his character, if not the full vivid details. Inwardly, Tōga was as wise and cunning as the matured dragon he became in combat. He possessed an eye for detail and thoroughness that belied his youthful exuberance. It wasn't that he was unaware of danger - rather, he simply cared little for it. Adventure called to him more sweetly than caution ever could.

The woman at Tōga's side exuded an intoxicating aura of danger and destruction. To a weaker man, her venomous nature could prove fatal - one bite would seal his fate as her toxin coursed through his veins, ushering him on an enjoyable descent into oblivion. But Tōga was captivated, not cowed. Her brilliant mind ensnared him as much as her physical appeal. As alluring as she was lethal, she represented a thrilling challenge. Tōga met her smile with one of his own, quietly taking note of the lethal potential coiled within this beauty. He tucked away that knowledge for later; for now, he would enjoy matching wits and wills with such a fascinating creature. Her siren song called to the dragon within, enticing him to dance with death's mistress.

"Nice to meet you, Revna!" Tōga beams with feigned innocence, finally coaxing her name from her lips. Between the words she speaks and the gestures she makes, Tōga notices an odd, unusual glow lighting the side of her face. A mystery yet to be discovered. He files the sight away for later inquiry. Draining the final droplets from his mug, Tōga sets the emptied vessel on the bar, signaling for another round. The mention of his distant homeland sparks his curiosity. As the barkeep pours, questions swirl in Tōga's mind - who is this fascinating woman? What secrets lie behind that cryptic shine? He smiles, savoring the anticipation of peeling back her mysteries, layer by tantalizing layer. For now, he steeps in her aura of danger and discovery, allowing her lethal charm to stir his dragon's blood.

"You've been to Joya? What a coincidence - that's my homeland," Tōga replies. Secrets were like puzzle pieces, each revealing yet another mystery to unravel. While he preferred keeping certain cards close to his chest, pride in his birthplace was no secret. It was intriguing that Revna had connected the celestial beauty of Stella to his faraway motherland - she had an eye for detail. Her experience in Joya was another fragment of the puzzle that was this lethal lovely. Tōga collected each morsel of her past like a dragon gathering glinting treasures. He would hoard these clues until he could piece together the full mosaic of her identity. For now, he would stoke her intrigue with tempting glimpses of his own backstory, even as he kept his true nature veiled behind an innocent smile. Their verbal dance had only just begun.

The day took an intriguing turn as Tōga observed the woman before him. Through some beguiling sorcery or benign wickedness, Revna commanded the very shadows. Though invisible to the eye, Tōga's heightened senses tracked the intricate movements of the darkness. It swirled and tore at her silent command, bending to the will of its enigmatic mistress. Like a virtuoso maestro, Revna played the shadows with skillful finesse. Tōga felt a thrill run through him. Here was a force of nature cloaked in feminine form - a dangerous yet captivating anomaly. Her origins were a mystery, but her mastery over an element so akin to his own stirred his ancient blood. What cryptic tunes could they compose together, dragon and siren of the darkness? He yearned to explore the possibilities, to see what potential lay hidden within the shadows of this fascinating femme fatale. She had plucked at his curiosity, now his excitement grew with each display of her arcane abilities. "It's always fascinated me how each land interprets dragons differently - the shapes, colors, and lore vary, yet their essence remains unmistakable," Tōga muses, gazing at the crimson dragon mask on the table. Though merely decorative, the mask eerily mirrors his own existence as a Dragon Slayer. He wonders - is the dragon his true face, or the identity beneath?

As Revena expresses her fondness for ravens and reveals her own feathered black mask, Tōga nods in appreciation. The dark plumage complements her aesthetic perfectly, balancing her aura of mystery.

"Well then, let's drink to the dragon meeting the raven!" Tōga declares with a grin, raising his freshly filled mug to clink against hers.

In these guises, their true natures remain obscured - the raven's secrets still cloaked in black wings, the dragon's power latent behind painted scales. Yet Tōga's excitement stirs at the potential in this fated convergence. What sparks might fly between slayer and shadow-weaver? For now, the masks remain intact as they dance on the stage of this tavern. But when the curtains fall, what will emerge from the darkness behind the theatre?

---

wc: 874 [2451]

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Tōga's smile widens as he listens raptly to Revna's meandering tales of dragons throughout human history. She weaves together threads of myth and legend, painting a vivid tapestry of how different cultures envisioned these awe-inspiring creatures. In some lands dragons were revered, their scales and breath infused with divine power. In others they were dread beasts, bringing fire and death upon hapless villages. Their forms shift with each new story - some depicted with vast bat-like wings, others serpentine wyrms nestled in lightless caves. Yet no matter the variation, all cultures knew dragons as something primal, powerful and ancient beyond reckoning. Revna's voice dances through legends familiar and exotic, from east to west and back again. Tōga leans in, enraptured by her chronicle, glimpsing how humanity's relationship with myth shaped dragons to embody both their hopes and their fears across the ages.

Revna continues her meandering myths, speaking now of the raven and its near-universal portent of doom. Across countless lands, this black bird was a herald of carnage, its midnight wings striking fear into the hearts of children and adults alike. Yet as she describes the raven's baleful legends, Tōga's expression shifts, memories stirring. "In my homeland, the raven holds different meanings," he muses. His mind drifts backwards through time, conjuring half-forgotten tales from his childhood. "In some stories, ravens serve as guides, helping important figures find their destiny." He recalls the Yatagarasu, the three-legged crow god said to be descended from an elder deity. It was believed this mystical being would appear to grant safe passage to kings and heroes, enabling them to fulfill their purpose. As Tōga shares these memories, woven with gentler raven myths, his voice grows warm with nostalgia. The memories cascade, carrying him back to a time when such legends held possibility and wonder for a young boy. For a moment he is there again, listening to the tales by firelight, never imagining how life and legends both would one day twist and turn.

"I suppose it's like people - animals carry different meanings depending on the perspective," Tōga muses, his gaze turning distant. He stares past the tavern walls, through the village streets, seeing vistas beyond what most can envision. "Meaning is shaped by the lens you choose to peer through."

In this moment he feels a kindred spirit with the raven, transcending physical barriers as if flying high above. Perhaps now, unknowingly, the three-legged Yatagarasu guides his inward eye, granting him passage to hidden truths. What legends, he wonders, might future generations whisper of their encounter here? What mythic meanings might take shape around two travelers trading stories over ale?

Tōga's faraway gaze sharpens as Revna's question tethers him back to the tavern's warmth. "What dragon do I see myself as?" He repeats her inquiry, thumb and finger thoughtfully stroking his chin. He has never considered it before - his encounters with dragons thus far dwell only in legend, their true forms as mysterious to him as his own nascent power. "I'm not sure yet," he finally admits with a grin. "I'll have to get back to you on that!" While his magic flows from an ancient wellspring, its source remains obscured, as if clouded by mythic mist. Only through his travels might Tōga pierce that veil and discover the truth of the dragon within.

Tōga takes another swig from his tankard as his gaze settles back on his drinking companion. "I'm a Rune Knight," he states plainly, unconcerned about concealing his affiliation. Her perceptive questions make it clear there is little point in dissembling.

"Fire dragon slayer," he specifies when she inquires about his magic. Though he has never met another like himself, Tōga senses the slayers' numbers are few, their gifts unique. His pyrokinetic power flows from an arcane wellspring, one granting strength to him alone.

He studies Revna with newfound curiosity, noting her distinctly antiquated magical essence. "You have an ancient smell to you as well," he remarks. Though their abilities differ, perhaps their founts spring from a shared ageless source. What primal magics shaped their divergent gifts, forging mortal vessels to channel inhuman might? Tōga's blood stirs at the thought, the thrill of mystery intermingling. This unexpected camaraderie fuels his hunger to uncover the origin of his power. With a slayer's senses, he and Revna together may decipher the enigmas shrouding their shared heritage. But for now, he is content to sit awhile longer, swap stories, and see where the road leads.

---

wc: 744 [3195]

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Revna was curiosity distilled, preserved in glass until the moment to uncork her spirit arrived. Her gaze saw as far as the moon's light touched, her wisdom equally vast. She danced between antiquity and modernity with each gesture. Her words intoxicated weaker souls, yet invigorated the stalwart - syllables laced with poison or elixir depending on who listened. Though knowing, she feigned innocence, tempting others to sip from her well of mysteries. A sphinx in human guise, this blue-haired enchantress indulged her thirst for knowledge even as the vaults of her mind remained locked tight.

Her voice rises and falls like the tides as she spins her tale, addressing the three-legged Joyan crow god. Tōga's gaze remains fixed on her even as he mechanically lifts his mug to sip, enraptured by her words between swigs. "You see? Not so different at all," he remarks with a smile as Revna extols the crow's virtues. Yet as she continues her lilting discourse, she unveils more than Tōga bargained for. Her mellifluous eloquence draws him in, revealing hidden depths beneath her hypnotic façade. Though outwardly composed, her words betray glimmers of something deeper, flickers of insight into her soul that catch Tōga off guard yet magnetize his attention ever closer.

"Saturn? Can't say I know him," Tōga initially pondered. Yet as Revna continued, his intrigue grew. "A fellow dragon slayer?" His thoughts meandered, torn between excitement and disappointment. After years seeking others of his kind, to learn one was right under his nose among the Rune Knights was both inspiring yet galling. How had their paths not crossed before? He nodded in acquiescence to her request to watch over the lad, anticipation building to meet this Saturn upon returning home. A gathering lacked proper vigor without at least two dragon slayers in attendance. Revna's lilting words watered the seed of curiosity within Tōga, nurturing his innate desire to connect with rare kin. This Saturn represented a missed chance and an opportunity - the potential for camaraderie tinged with the regret of time lost. Yet possibilities still lay ahead to rectify the absence.

As the bartender whisks away their emptied mugs, Tōga's eyes widen, his posture growing contrite as Revna misconstrues his fumbling compliment. He waves his hands, backtracking sincerely, "No, no, not ancient as in old! I meant your aura is ancient in the sense of deep, powerful..." He trips over his words trying to clarify his intended flattery. "You have this intriguing, mystical air about you! That's what I was aiming for!" His explanation hangs in the air for her appraisal. For now Tōga takes a fortifying swig, praying she grasps his meaning. Though eloquent in battle, in matters of the heart his tongue ties itself in knots. Yet his eyes convey the truth his lips fail to properly frame - that her hypnotic spirit ensnares him, radiating an aura pulsing with arcane energy, ancient as blood magic and formidable as the tides themselves. His fumbling speech cannot capture her mystique, only hint at her magnetism. So he hopes the sincerity in his gaze speaks for his tangled tongue.

Talk turns to dragons, sparking abstract ideation and uncharted tangents that raise further questions. "Truthfully, I have no idea how it happened," Tōga admits, the genesis of his power obscured, locked away somewhere inaccessible. Whether a defense mechanism concealing darker truths or magic sealing the memories, the night of his awakening lingers just out of reach. Yet glimmers of images sometimes surface - flickers of fangs, fire, scales - before sinking back into the void. He grasps at intangible strands, seeking any thread to unravel the enshrouded origins of his gift. But the stubborn mental blocks persist, denying him clarity. And so Tōga contents himself with wielding the power fate granted him, without fully knowing its source. The well of strength resides within him, even if the details of its excavation hide themselves. He harbors faith that one day, persistence will dredge up understanding, and mysteries now murky will ripple into focus.

"Though the details are obscured, I honor and thank the dragon who saw fit to gift me this power." Ignorant of the full circumstances of his magical awakening, Tōga nonetheless treats his abilities as a sacred charge. He considers himself a vessel, entrusted with ancient strengths to channel toward some higher purpose. The dragon who forged him remains shrouded in anonymity, yet Tōga vows one day to uncover their identity and properly convey his gratitude. Until then, he walks the path of a dutiful harbinger - steadfast in carrying out whatever role destiny delegates him. All mysteries in time unfurl their secrets. When understanding dawns, he hopes to have proven himself worthy of this fearsome magic. Though birthed in shadow, he works to shape it into a force illuminating humanity's darkness. The wellspring resides within him - a reservoir of might to flow where it is needed most.

"I can’t explain it," Tōga muses, grasping for words as intoxication muddles his senses. "It's delicious, yet no food truly mimics its essence. At times it reminds me of juicy roasted meat, but even that falls short." He pauses, distracted by the memory of flames dancing on his tongue. "Fire has a taste all its own - primal, untamed, defiantly elemental.” Tōga's eyes glaze as he seeks analogies, trying to articulate sensations beyond the limits of language. "Imagine drinking lightning, swallowing lava, breathing in the heart of a star - that furious rush of power, dangerous yet intoxicating." He meets her gaze, a rapturous grin creeping across his flushed face. "It’s like drinking life, if you could put it in a bottle, and always open it to know it’s fresh."

"You mentioned your magic is ancient - what is its origin?" Tōga presses on. "Where do you hail from?" Answering was not compulsory, yet no harm existed in asking. She had already confessed their abilities stemmed from a primordial realm. Would she now reveal where their paths diverged? Curiosity compelled him to pry, to unveil her obscurities. Each detail offered kindled his intrigue, stoking a hunger to unravel her mysteries. Tōga studied her, awaiting a response. Either way, he had gleaned another fragment to this enigma. Like assembling a mosaic, he gathered the pieces she volunteered, gradually forming a picture of her cryptic past. Patience was paramount - too forceful an inquiry risked withdrawal. So he proceeded tactfully, allowing her to illuminate at her own pace. The night was still young and revelation often whispered loudest in the still of darkness.

---

wc: 1088 [4283]

Revna's words offered Tōga some comfort, even as they raised troubling questions. The power of a fire dragon--however Tōga had come to possess it--was undeniably his, and unique to him. As Tōga searched for answers about his mysterious past, consumed by the need to know, he never paused to consider potential consequences. What if this power had come from an actual dragon? Could such a creature even be found if it wished to remain hidden? Seeking the full truth might unveil darker realities, plunging Tōga into the shadowy depths of his own mind. The rewards of this relentless search seemed far from certain. Perhaps some mysteries were better left unsolved, their answers too painful to bear. Though Revna's words provided some reassurance, they could not quell the disquiet in Tōga's heart as he pondered the unclear path ahead.

"Exactly. What could the dragon's name be?" Tōga mused, his imagination taking flight. "Something mighty like...Georgy?" Though he knew nothing of this mysterious creature, the endless possibilities filled him with childlike wonder. In his mind's eye, Tōga embarked on a fantastical journey, full of twists and turns leading to places beyond belief. With no limits or logic to rein it in, his imagination swept him away to spectacular worlds where anything could happen. Tōga reveled in this boundless realm of the mind, where one could explore the unexplored and dream up the undreamt. Here, reality paled in comparison to the thrilling adventures conjured up by pure creativity. Lost in fancies and daydreams, Tōga felt the enchantment that only an unrestrained imagination could provide.

Revna's azure locks swayed as she spoke, her piercing eyes mapping their discourse before her words gave it shape. She wove tales of an ancient epoch before fire's glow, and Tōga hung on each phrase, curiosity kindling within. As she described her frozen woods, inky frost crept across the counter, black blooms crystallizing like dark stars. With this small showing, Revna revealed the incredible power slumbering in her fingertips, proving her claim that cold reigned first. Tōga watched in awe, enthralled by her melodic voice as it pulled back the curtains of time, unveiling a past shrouded in ice instead of fire. Her hypnotic words painted visions in his mind more vivid than any dream, of endless landscapes locked in winter's grasp. With each vivid description, she walked the fine line between truth and myth, imagination and history. Tōga could not tell where one ended and the other began, so enthralled was he by the living tapestry Revna wove before his eyes.

"Ginnungagap," Tōga sounded out, stumbling over the exotic name of her homeland. "I've never heard of such a place, nor this Iceberg." Curiosity kindled in his gaze, his smile broadening. "Please, tell me more," he implored, eager to uncover these mysteries. As she spun her glacial yarns, Tōga's mind overflowed with questions. He hoped to retell these tantalizing legends to Era, if only he could remember the intricate details. He etched each image into his memory, determined to carry these fragments of a forgotten realm back home.

Tōga's eyes widened as she offered a new name and revealed her guild allegiance, reshaping his perception. He turned over her words, seeking coherence with her prior vivid tales. Try as he might, no definitive meaning emerged from the disconnect. She remained an enigma, her need for secrecy palpable. Tōga sipped his mead as he ruminated, sighing as understanding dawned. Though her words seemed contradictory, he now grasped her necessity for discretion. A smile crept across his face, appreciating the intricacy of her facade. Like a puzzle, she offered tantalizing pieces but withheld the final picture.

"I've got it - Lumikki is your surname!" Tōga exclaimed, pleased to have deciphered her puzzle. "Revna Lumikki" he repeated, letting the melodic name roll off his tongue. A rush of satisfaction washed over him at having unlocked this small piece of the enigma she presented.

Tōga's cheeks still flushed from the mead's influence, his thoughts pleasantly unfettered. The concept of her earlier false name intrigued him. Like a character in a play, she donned aliases and disguises, obscuring her true self beneath layers of mystique

---

wc: 693 [4976]

Tōga wears his ignorance openly, unashamed of what he does not yet know. He embraces the chilling darkness of the unknown, allowing it to ignite a fiery passion for learning within him. The thought of being wrong or seen as foolish does not trouble him, for he knows that those who hide in the false light of pretended knowledge are the truly blind ones. So when Lumikki points out the limits of his understanding, Tōga simply nods and smiles. He agrees with her critique, taking in each word, listening closely. For he knows that is how wisdom grows - not by hiding from one's unknowing, but by facing it with an open mind.

"For most of my life, I toiled in the fields of a tiny farming village, nestled deep in the heart of Joya. It was not until I joined the Knights that I left behind all I knew to see new lands," he explains, offering up his humble origins as a means of clarification. "This journey to Stella marks only the second time I have ventured beyond Era's borders. I have quite the voyage ahead if I hope to truly see the world in its fullness."

As of now, his understanding of life outside his homeland could be charted on a flat, faded map - two dimensions without depth or contour. Yet he knows that with patience and an open heart, his knowledge will grow into a rich tapestry, layered with the textures and colors of many lands. Bit by bit, the terrain will rise up from that flat parchment, taking on dimension and substance, until one day, he can finally view the world in its wholeness - a complete and spherical reality.

"Your people sound most fascinating. I hope I may meet them one day," he exclaims, intrigued by the veil of mystery surrounding her clan. He senses a kinship in their reclusive ways that mirrors her own guarded nature. She speaks in riddles, slowly piecing together a puzzle between them with each word. He wonders what more could be revealed if their day stretched into night - what secrets disclosed over shared libations in prolonged companionship? Another hour of her cryptic tales could surely unwind much of the enigma that she embodies.

With deft subtlety she unveils only hints, keeping all else discretely obscured. Yet every tantalizing clue draws him further into her world, eager to unravel the invisible threads that bind her to her elusive kindred.

As she turned to face him fully, he saw her eyes in their entirety for the first time. One shone like a golden moon, while the other reflected a cool blue that mirrored the shades of her hair. This striking dichotomy spoke to the dual nature of her being. He smiled, though his expression shifted to one of wonder as her mirrored palms began to glimmer with an inky magic. "Ooooh!" he mused, enthralled as particles, small and atomic, wisped out from her hands, multiplying rapidly until a sea of atoms swirled freely. Chemical reactions ensued within the mystic cloud, and from this, the unbound particles took form, congealing and collapsing into a solid disc. The Dragon Slayer watched, captivated by her dazzling display, even as he continued listening intently to her words. Lumikki wove her spellcraft and wisdom together in perfect synchronicity. With each passing moment, the mysteries of her power and knowledge unfolded before him, and he yearned to understand it all.

As Umikki's magical big bang fades, Tōga moves to speak, but a soft hand latches onto his pink hair first, grabbing a strand and yanking him down. "Ouch!" Tōga winces, meeting her eyes through the pain. "Lumikki Hrútr of the Hrútr Dwarven clan of Fjallgard, nice to meet ya. I'm Himura Tōga of Joya," he smiles through the stinging agony caused by the fistful of locks. Extending his hand beneath his tilted head, he reaches out hopefully for a handshake. "It's an honor to finally meet you," his words, though innocent and casual, hint at a deeper, primal understanding. Truth came in many forms, yet held a single meaning. With the exchange of their names, the two drew closer to grasping each other's truth.

"I'm a Dragon Slayer, and you're a God Slayer—" Tōga pauses, considering his next words carefully. "Does that mean you know a God?" he asks, curiosity glinting in his eyes. By now, Lumikki has mercifully released her viselike grasp on his pink locks, allowing him to straighten in his seat once more. He gulps down the remains of his mug before signaling for another round for himself and the alluring goddess at his side. Tōga studies Lumikki as they wait for their drinks, intrigued by her divine abilities. He wonders just what kind of deities she has encountered, and what spectacular battles must have ensued from such fateful meetings. Though ferocious in her own right, did she ever meet her match when facing the powers of an almighty god? Tōga burns to know more about the formidable woman sharing his table, sensing there are many thrilling tales she has yet to tell.

“What does a god slayer eat?”

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wc: 858 [5834]

"The honor is all mine," Tōga insisted, waving away her reciprocation. Though she may not have realized it, Lumikki had given him a great gift through their conversation. With each story and insight she shared, another piece fell into place in the vast puzzle of Tōga's understanding. Her words were like shimmering fragments, illuminating corners of the world previously shrouded in shadow. He felt closer to discerning the full picture, though the puzzle was far from complete. This journey of discovery was a gradual one, built on the generosity of spirits like Lumikki's. Every exchange brought new revelations, shuffling and rearranging assumptions to reveal interconnected truths. Tōga was grateful for each moment that progressed his comprehension, knowing he would emerge wiser for having walked this path with her.

She sips, frost dancing across her glass as magic chills her fingertips. Amused, Tōga watches her subtle sorcery, ever impressed by those able to wield their gifts with such finesse. As a mage of fire, his spells radiate light and heat, boldly announcing their presence. Subtlety evades his grasp, transfigurations escaping him like curling smoke. He yearns to know the way of water, moving invisibly, transforming the world in tiny ripples only he can discern. For now, his magic blazes, searing the air around him. But Tōga envisions a day when his power flows gently, remaking reality through the smallest of shifts. With practice and patience, he will temper his flames, mastering the art of illusion until the world around him bends to his quiet will.

"The shadows too?" Tōga marveled, witnessing her impossible feat. From their earlier conversation, he knew Dragon Slayers could only consume their unique elemental gift. Yet here Lumikki spun darkness itself into an obsidian bow, defying that limit. She twirled her fingers and the writhing shadows danced to her command, twining themselves into solid form. Tōga watched in awe as the opaque ribbons wrapped into an elegant, midnight-hued bow. Its impossibility intrigued him. Had Lumikki transcended the rules that bound mortal slayers? Was this the unlimited power of the gods, unlike anything dragons could bestow? Her mastery of shadow and light hinted at abilities beyond Tōga's comprehension. Lumikki wielded primal forces, blending them like paint on an artist's palette. As the impossible bow glimmered in her hands, Tōga glimpsed the unfettered potential of the divine, and felt humbled before its majesty.

He accepts her shadowy gift, the ribbon balancing delicately between his hands. Auburn eyes marvel at the darkness-imbued trinket. "I'd say I've never met a demigod either, but you already know my ignorance," he smiles, joking once more about his limited worldview.

"Burdened by demons more than blessed by gods..." He muses over her final thoughts, gaze flickering between the mystical ribbon and his mead as he sips. The ebony fabric seems to drink the tavern's dim light, casting a mesmerizing allure. Tōga feels its potential stirring between his fingers, hinting at the extraordinary woman who conjured this parcel of night.

"Well, you've been a blessing to me today, Raven Queen," he proclaims, gazing up at her with a smile. The mead has cast a warm haze over his senses, but through it Lumikki seems to glow with a mythic radiance.

"I don't believe in one god," he declares, the words tumbling forth in an alcohol-fueled torrent. "I believe in all of them, or none at all," he continues, his gaze drifting upwards to trace the wooden beams crossing the tavern's ceiling. His eyes burn with intensity, seeming to sharpen even as the flush in his cheeks deepens from the endless flow of mead and ale. The man speaks with conviction, his fragmented thoughts piecing together in the haze of inebriation to form a tangled but impassioned creed. Belief and doubt swirl within him, caught between the myriad deities and the expanse of the unknown heavens above.

"Who am I to validate or deny their existence?" he muses, his words hanging invitingly as he glances to Lumikki to enlighten or challenge his philosophy. "If they want to be here - let them be. If they don't exist? Why should it bother me?" He takes another swig from his mug, the ale loosening his tongue. "In Joya, we grew up revering our gods and deities - and I still do. But it's not my place to insist my gods are real while others' are fantasy."

He has no desire to deny the heritage and truths of this world to put his own faith on a pedestal. "So when I learn of a new god, or people spin new myths, I welcome them all as a fan - everyone deserves validation." A wry smile crosses his face. "All these gods just mean more fascinating stories to hear and more fascinating people to meet." The mysteries and contradictions only add to the wonder of it all.

"Yeah, this nose gets me into trouble sometimes," he admits with a laugh, taking another swig of mead. "I smell so many things, it's hard to tell if I've caught a scent before. But once I do, I'll never forget it."

His gaze drops from the tavern's rafters, meeting Lumikki's multi-hued eyes. "Like you, for instance - I'll always recognize your scent, no matter where you are," he murmurs, his voice softened. His eyes linger on her, even as his words caress the unique magic that clings to her, its signature imprinting itself in his senses. Her mystical aura, now familiar, entwines with the earthy tones of the tavern, weaving into his awareness. No matter where their paths cross, her presence will be unmistakable, indelible. His keen nose has already committed her to memory.

Before their conversation could continue, the tavern door bursts open as a new tide of revelers floods the modest space, heralding a second era of merriment.

Tōga grins as the Raven Queen is swept into a dance by a woman in crimson, twirling across the tavern floor in spirited abandon. The music swells and a crowd encircles the pair as their graceful madness unfolds. Lumikki's shadowy magic blossoms into artistry - inky constructs springing to life and painting the air until they coalesce into a parting gift as the dance ends. The tavern is transformed, the new energy meshing with the old in raucous harmony. Tōga leans back contentedly, letting the swell of laughter and music wash over him as Lumikki's magic leaves its mark on the night. The celebrations have only just begun.

"You catch on quick!" Tōga exclaims, his smile unwavering as Lumikki returns to his side and takes another swig of her drink. He raises his own mug in tandem.

"Did the Raven Queen finally meet her match out there?" he teases, noting her faintly flushed cheeks.

He signals for another round as Lumikki settles back in. An easy camaraderie exists between them now, the dance having swept aside the initial unease. Tōga leans casually against the bar, at ease in her presence.

Lumikki's playful philosophical questioning had Tōga's mind reeling, even in his drunken stupor. "What kind of God would I be?" she asked again, an inquiry he hadn't truly contemplated for as long as he could recall. And yet again, he answered with the first response that surfaced. Her competitive spirit prevailed as Tōga struggled to keep pace, grasping for coherent thoughts amidst the haze of alcohol. Though caught off guard, the Dragon Slayer found himself intrigued by Lumikki's prodding. Her questions sparked self-reflection, challenging his conceptions of godhood and forcing him to consider his innermost motivations. This friendly battle of wits and wisdom brought out Tōga's latent curiosity, complementing the lighthearted mischief dancing in Lumikki's eyes.

"I wouldn't wanna be a god, honestly," Tōga replied, his smile veiling mystery and ambiguity. "I don't want praise or hatred. It seems like too much work, and who wants an eternity of that? My human lifespan will bring enough fun," he rambled on, taking swigs of his drink as random thoughts tumbled into words. But his facile response belied deeper rumination. Tōga cherished life and respected death. His mortality drove him to seize each moment. The looming expiration date inspired him to be fully present, knowing there would eventually be an end. Godhood seemed as if it would corrode this perspective. Without limitations, would he still feel the poignancy of time? Would ephemeral joys still resonate? Tōga suspected eternity might dull the preciousness of life. Better to remain human, he thought, with fragility and impermanence heightening every experience. For now, he would continue living unrestrained, unencumbered by preordained destiny. The beauty was in the mystery, in not knowing what lay ahead but relishing the unfolding journey.

The conversation took a playful turn as Lumikki posed a new challenge, pitting her sharp eyes against Tōga's heightened sense of smell. The two slayers eyed each other across the bar, mischievous smiles dancing as they waited for the other to fold. But neither backed down. "We'll just have to see!" Tōga exclaimed, toasting the contest yet to come. He would drink to this new game between them, readying himself for their next encounter. Who would uncover the other first? Lumikki's gaze glinted with spirited determination as Tōga inhaled the promise of competition.

An intoxicating blend of mystery and possibility swirled around them. The thrill of the unknown lay ahead, but for now, the Dragon Slayer savored the Electric Girl's lively energy. Her verve was infectious, lighting a spark of adventure in him. As their verbal parrying unfolded, a new camaraderie was kindled. Two kindred souls recognizing one another over the rim of a glass. Whatever this provocative challenge unlocked, Tōga welcomed the journey with open arms and ante raised.

"Aye, I love to dance, but these feet are dangerous," Tōga chuckled, eliciting a soft giggle from Lumikki. "One wrong move and everyone might go tumbling down," he joked, acknowledging his unsteady drunken swaying. The two reveled in their private revelry, downing each new drink the bartender provided as their banter flowed.

Tōga's self-deprecating humor complemented Lumikki's playful spirit. An effervescent energy bubbled between them, all inside jokes and eyebrow raises. For now their party consisted only of two, but with the easy camaraderie established, it felt as though the whole room was alight. Sensors dulled by drink, they created their own rhythm, a syncopated give-and-take of quips and stories. Steps didn't matter - they had already found the beat. Jovial moods feeding off one another, they danced in spirit, if not in motion. This new friendship required no choreographed moves, just the willingness to follow where the other led. Dizzy with drink and laughter, they were content to trip and spiral together.

"Ember? I like it---I'ma call you Frosty," Tōga quipped, a playful nod to her magical abilities. As their banter bounced back and forth, day imperceptibly shifted into night. The two were lost in an easing flow of conversation and shared revelry, the hours slipping by unnoticed. Stella was fun incarnate, and they were happily immersed in its embrace. Drinks continued pouring as they explored hilarious anecdotes and spirited debates. A warm sense of connection kindled between them. The tavern, once filled with boisterous crowds, had cleared out around their lingering oasis of comradery.

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