Vale was still recovering when Elara struck again.
"You should date my dad."
Vale blinked. "That's… different."
Elara frowned. "Fine. Start with dating. Marriage later."
"That was not a negotiation," Vale said weakly.
Elara squinted at her. "It absolutely was."
---
Malachai, who had been hoping—irrationally—that silence might save him, cleared his throat.
"Elara," he said carefully, "you are applying undue pressure."
Elara turned slowly. "You once rewrote gravity because a door annoyed you."
"That was justified."
"This is more justified."
Vale pressed a hand to her forehead. "I'm surrounded by lunatics."
"Yes," Elara said brightly. "But we're very organized about it."
---
The temperature in the room shifted.
Not threatening—ancient.
"Oh," Elara said. "She's early."
Vale barely had time to straighten before Malachai's grandmother arrived, reality parting for her like a courteous host. Today she wore the shape of a tall woman with silver hair and eyes that glowed like banked embers.
She took one look at Vale.
Then Malachai.
Then Elara.
"…You're dragging your feet," the dragon said flatly.
"Grandmother," Malachai sighed, "we are discussing—"
"Courtship," the dragon supplied. "Yes. I know."
Vale held up both hands. "We are absolutely not discussing marriage."
The dragon waved dismissively. "Of course not. That comes later."
Elara nodded. "See? She gets it."
---
"No," Vale said firmly. "Listen. I care about him. He cares about me. That much is… obvious."
Malachai went very still.
"But," Vale continued, "we are not rushing into anything. We're not saving the universe and planning a wedding."
Elara crossed her arms. "Cowardice."
"Boundaries," Vale corrected.
The dragon studied her, then smiled—slow and sharp. "Ah. A sensible one. That is dangerous."
---
Vale turned to Malachai. "What do you want?"
He hesitated.
That, somehow, answered a thousand questions.
"I want," he said carefully, "to begin with something small enough that it does not break when the war presses against it."
Vale exhaled. "Good answer."
Elara groaned. "Boring."
---
"So," Vale said, squaring her shoulders, "we date. Coffee. Meals. Conversations that don't involve apocalyptic threats."
"I can do that," Malachai said immediately.
"No Void manifestations during disagreements," she added.
"I will make every effort."
"That's still alarming wording."
Elara threw herself back onto the bed dramatically. "I waited decades for this and you're choosing dating."
The dragon sniffed. "Mortals love to crawl when they could soar."
Vale smiled, unapologetic. "We crawl first so we don't fall."
---
Malachai inclined his head toward Vale. "Then… a date."
She smiled back, equal parts nervous and resolute. "A date."
Elara peeked up. "With hand-holding?"
"Later," Vale said.
"With flowers?"
"Yes," Malachai said at once.
Elara gasped. "He's learning."
---
The dragon sighed theatrically. "Very well. I will restrain myself."
She leaned in close to Vale. "But know this—if you break his heart, I will unmake a continent."
Vale met her gaze calmly. "Fair."
Malachai winced. "That was not part of the agreement."
---
As the dragon departed and Elara sulked loudly, Vale and Malachai were left standing together—awkward, uncertain, and very much alive.
"For the record," Vale said, "this is terrifying."
"Yes," Malachai agreed.
She smiled. "Good. Then it's honest."
For the first time in a long while, Malachai did not feel like the future was something he had to calculate alone.
It was something he could take—carefully, deliberately—
One date at a time.