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As soon as he gets it out, he is met with a glimmering band of gold jewellery.
Upon closer examination, Khadgar sees that his and Songweaver’s names are etched in it.
They linger for a few seconds too long, eyes flickering from Khadgar, to the dessert, to Khadgar again, as if debating whether or not to tell him something.
Khadgar receives one final look of sympathy before the server nervously walks away.
Gold trimmings almost matches his smooth, golden locks and brings attention to his astonishingly emerald eyes.
And sometimes, it may be necessary to call upon powers one would otherwise not use in order to keep the world safe… It’s a story that questions morality and --”Songweaver holds up a hand, stopping Khadgar. Surprise me when you get it published.” He then rests his chin on the back of his hand again. Who is the lucky person that your wonderful story is dedicated to? Songweaver couldn’t possibly want him to dedicate the book to him, now would he? “Here we are - Cherry Galette with Meringue,” the server says, placing them on the table.
Ever curious, Khadgar, in return, asks questions about different sights and their historical significance.
Khadgar quickly does the same, albeit less smoothly, before he answers his date. I’ve been trying to master history at Dalaran University for the last few years.” He pauses, considering his next words. been working on my first book heavily inspired by some of my studies.”“I…
He looks up at the colourful sign once more, hesitates as he glances at the heavily decorated windows, slowly takes a deep breath and -The door abruptly opens up from the inside.
Khadgar freezes and stares up at the person who opened it, and his heart skips a beat.