Rythern smiled as Fade donned a glove. "No worries. I understand." He had spent so much of his life making decisions only out of consideration for himself. He couldn't begin to imagine how different his own life would be, were he bearing the same Mark that Fade did. So although Rythern knew he couldn't empathize with her fear, he could understand it, and he nodded to her in acknowledgment of that understanding.
"It was a pleasure meeting you too. And don't worry I seldom forget things."
They shook, and then he touched a hand to her shoulder. "Catch you around."
The Vantha whistled to Aeyo, checked briefly to be sure he had all his knives, and with one last wave at Fade he turned and left the alley to stroll down the street. Aeyo trailed a few paces behind him. Rythern took in the usual sights of the city as his mind buzzed with thoughts.
It was midday, and the sun was high overhead. The world looked colorful and exciting. Idly he stopped thinking about the things he should've been thinking about — like brainstorming for an act, or planning his time in Syliras — and instead began inventing a whimsical children's story about a black-haired boy and a white-haired girl. Maybe he'd stand on a corner somewhere and tell it to the world. Why worry about things now when there was time to worry later? Syliras was alive, and so was he.