Milda started laughing. "Do you want to?"

Jarsha, still astonished, mouthed a few words: 'I don't understand.'

"Well, look at it this way." Milda uttered her catchphrase, tossing her head with yet another mischievous grin. "I'm a Dragon Rider. Understand?"

He nodded, wondering.

"And so I'm probably going to go to an eleven city sooner or later, for training. When I take off with Iganì, you could come along with us. Provided, of course, that you'd be hidden, no one would know that you were with us. You could hide yourself in a bag or something of the sort just before they left, and then when everyone is counselling me and giving me a pep talk, you can slip somewhere unnoticed that's hopefully more comfortable. Then you could wait until we actually set off, but making sure to hide yourself all the while."

Realization dawning on his face, Jarsha still looked somewhat pained. "But… But that wouldn't be right," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Aye, it would, but how else are we supposed to do it?" Shaking her black hair over her eyes so that they shone like pools of silver behind the web of dark bangs, she let her grin disappear and a secretive smile, concealing many hidden truths, appeared in its place. "You know, Jarsha, if this is what you really want to do this, there are ways to do this without feeling too guilty. It's only right." Finishing her speech matter-of-factly, Milda's large eyes drove deeply into his; he had the impression she was boring through his very soul.

"Er, it's not right," Jarsha corrected, blinking in rapid-fire succession. His demeanour immediately changed; he switched tactics. "How is doing something that the good people who take care of us don't want us to do good?" he demanded, putting an emphasis on the word as he pushed his face into Milda's. Indeed, he felt a strange connection to her, a strange semblance to her. So this is what it's like to do things without thinking, he thought as he narrowed his eyes to slits and glared at her. Quite a change from his reaction of a few seconds ago. "And, for your information, Mil, I didn't ask for this. It was your idea."

"Hey, I'm not worried." Sidestepping away so that she was free from him, she wiggled one of her slightly pointed ears. It was something she'd always been able to do, even before Iganì's egg had hatched for her all those months ago, though it looked nicer with her newer pointies. "Also, Jarsha – sure, you didn't say it, but then again you're dreamerboy extraordinaire when you want to be. It was written all over your face."

Jarsha glowered.

Milda bounded further backwards, that small, secretive smile still imprinted on her features. "Besides," she said with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, "who knows? You might become a Rider."

A sarcastic look – half infuriated glare, half incredulous expression.

"Excuse me," declared Milda, and coughed politely. Looking up at Jarsha with an adorable grin, she plunged forward. "What I'll say instead is – you're going after my own heart. Now isn't that sweet?" Tapping her chest with one hand, she winked again and patted him on the shoulder with the other. "Look at it this way. If you're going to have frequent mood swings–"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I do?"

"That was fast," replied Milda appreciatively in answer. "First hesitant, then angry, then with low self-esteem again. If you're going to have frequent mood changes, Jarsha, and one of them just involves you not thinking like I'm sure you normally do or acting like me in a way that's not so remote…" She trailed off, eyes closed, and resumed tapping her chest. "Then yes, Jar, you are one after my own heart."

Experiencing another mood swing – this time from raptly listening to her calling him that annoying nickname – Jarsha grinned and chuckled, wondering what on Alagaësia could be possibly better than listening to trifle nothings pour out of his best friend's mouth. And quite hilarious she was, too.

------------------------------------------

"Morning," greeted Myrna as Jerrett appeared in the doorway of his bedroom.

"Morning," Jerrett greeted back, planting a kiss on his wife's cheek. "Is Jarsha up yet?"

Myrna shook her head, pushing a strand of brown hair from her green eyes. "No, but you have a point. He's usually awake at this time of day."

"Daydreaming or something of the like," said Jerrett with a grin. When Myrna's emerald orbs cut through his marine ones like red-hot fire, he hastily went on. "I, er, hope he'll be awake soon. He should be, at any rate." Jerrett amended matters.

Myrna glanced toward the room she shared with her son at the other end of the small house. "I hope so," she muttered, a pearly tear shining on her cheek. Then, brusquely shaking herself, she turned back to Jerrett. "I have a feeling something's happened to him," she said softly, her eyes semi-closed.

"Like what?"

"Well, Jerrett, if you've noticed he's been with Milda all day. I think she's having some sort of strange effect on him."

Jerrett stared hard at Myrna. "It's adolescence. You're going crazy," he stated curtly, then turned on his heel and left.

---------------------------------------------

But Jarsha was perfectly bright and cheerful when he got up, his mind rooted deep on the workings of everyday life for once rather than the fantasy world that was his third life (after having fun and staying at home/studying with Mirofr, of course). Myrna, pleased of this arrangement, said so; a happy Jarsha replied that he'd been having a hard week and the difficulties of adolescence had finally begun to catch up with him.

"I told you so." Raising an eyebrow, Jerrett embraced the young one. "The perils of adolescence always hurt, son, but they're also the best times of your life, boy," he told his son with a wink. "When you're a teenager, it's when you begin your life of romance and love."

"Don't fill his head with that nonsense." Myrna scurried away from the pair, though her cheeks were a vehement pink as she began to fiddle with the intricate braiding of the spotless grass reed curtains.

"Well, it's already stared to happen," Jerrett declared, putting a hand around Jarsha's shoulders. As it should have." Turning back to his son, he smiled and went on in a more consoling tone, for the boy was – without any trace of doubt – blushing. "Hasn't it, Jarsha?"

Jarsha hesitated before nodding slowly.

"Aye. I thought so." Jerrett removed his hand from Jarsha shoulder and began to rise. "Just remember," he began as he began to head out the doorway of their humble abode, "Milda's probably fallen in love with you too."

Myrna left the flawless curtains to join her husband out the door. Jarsha was left staring at the two of them, his mouth open in shock and amazement.