Heirs of the Gods

Ch 63.2: Hopeless goner

Aedion led Ella to the outside of the pub, away from the loud thumping of the music and animated chatter of the patrons. The street was still dispersed with other bar-goers from the venues on the strip, but they'd found a somewhat secluded space.

"What time is it?" Ella squinted at the large clock tower in the distance, before breaking out into a large grin. Two in the morning.

"It's already your birthday!" she squealed, in a manner she'd never admit to. "Happy birthday, big boy," she grinned up at Aedion and reached over, tousling his hair sloppily.

"Big boy?" he repeated, a lopsided grin on his lips.

"Yes," Ella said, very matter of factly. "You're very big." She leaned up on her tiptoes and reached up to his head, showing that he was, in fact, very tall.

"You're very ridiculously sloshed."

"Shut up, or you're not getting any presents." Still, she'd already winked into existence two medium-sized boxes.

Aedion groaned. "No, you didn't have to, really. I brought you out here to give you your presents! Now you want to upstage me."

She bit back a grin. He was almost pouting, and it did damage to her poor, poor heart. "Too bad, you get presents anyway." She then hastily added, "Ladies first!"

He flicked her nose and grumbled, but smiled softly as she handed him the two boxes.

"I can't wrap," she muttered sulkily, Aedion only lifted an amused brow at what had been her heinous attempt at wrapping.

It looked like she'd wrestled the matte black paper into folding. Only the neat bow had come out fine. It was like adding whipped cream on top of charred pancakes.

"Open this one first," she pushed the smaller box forward.

Paintbrushes. She'd ordered them from a small local artist. They came in a little suede pouch and each one was engraved with his initials and a little fire symbol.

"I wanted to keep on theme," she added, when he pulled out the brushes and grinned wide and bright. "I was afraid if they didn't come with little flames, you wouldn't use them."

"Oh, shut up," he rolled his eyes, despite the wide smile on his lips. His long fingers toyed with the brushes, testing out the smooth wooden texture and the soft bristles. "These are beautiful, I've been meaning to buy new ones for ages."

"I thought so, yours were looking like beat-up broomsticks." Her voice had gone low, as she watched him open up the remaining package. Twisting her hands in front of her, she held her breath.

It hadn't been easy to get ahold of the artist who'd painted the ceiling of the palace. She'd managed to track down some great-great-grandchild. Of course, the original painter was long gone. Fortunately, the woman had been able to tell her about the paints used. Paints able to be charmed into moving. Floating clouds, twinkling stars, fluttering trees.

Paints that were near impossible to get. Made only in small quantities by a small, unknown seller. Well, impossible for someone who wasn't as stubborn and resourceful as Ella. It was a terrible misuse of an infamous spy, yes, but Ella had been hellbent on getting those paints.

The Bird, though begrudging, had taken up the job. Paid handsomely, of course. She wouldn't have expected less. But it had been well worth it, Ella decided, watching as Aedion's eyes gleamed, mouth parting to take a breath as he stared at the paints.

He looked up at her, awed. "Are these...?"

Ella bit her lip. "Do you like them?"

"Like them?" He let out an incredulous laugh, looking at the little pots reverently. "How did you manage to get them? I could never find them, they're so rare."