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"It never ceases to amaze me that the greatest mage in all of Tortall, old friend of Emperor Ozorne, Arram Draper, black robe mage, is now a father."
Numair Salmalín was in a seated position by the fountain, his long legs bent, his knees almost in line with his nose. Lying on his upper thighs was the sleeping form of a baby.
Softly resting a hand on his daughter's gently rising chest, the mage grinned up at his old friend and one time teacher. "Still find it hard to believe myself," agreed the new father. "Although, when this one cries and screams at night, one does wish for bachelorhood once again."
"That was nothing on the first six weeks you endured though was it?" said Master Lindhall Reed, not without a degree of amusement.
Numair groaned in remembrance. Sarralyn Salmalín had shape shifted constantly, only taking human form when she slept. Between him and Daine, their energy had been permanently sapped.
"Where's your better half?" asked Lindhall as the skeleton figure on his shoulder slid down his shirt sleeve and jumped to the ground.
Numair ignored the jibe as he carefully watched the approaching Bone Dancer. "She's abed. She's not faring so well this second pregnancy."
"Ah." The unseeing eyes of the skeleton looked at the sleeping babe.
"Sarralyn was getting restless," continued Numair, "so we came for a walk."
"A walk you say?" said Lindhall, raising his eyebrow at the sight before him. Numair Salmalín was doing anything but.
"She fell asleep and I wasn't quite ready to go back to the palace yet," Numair slipped his hands under his daughter's body, resting her against his shoulder as he gracefully rose to a standing position in one smooth motion that belied his heart.
"So what brings you out here?"
Finito.