Look at those wings. I love the silvery tinge.
A true warrior.
Where can I sign up for the game? I want it now!
Barion chuckled. “Thank you for your kind comments. We very much appreciate them. Sadly, these are the only two avatars already done.”
Nooo.
We want more!
Please, give us more!
”But we’re working very hard on creating more. The goal is to have ten avatars to choose from, plus an extensive background story for each of them. We’ve also done research and brainstorming for the landscapes of the different levels and we’re looking forward to showing them to you.”
Barion was working their audience with practiced ease, building up anticipation without giving away too much. Jon still couldn’t believe his friend had never done this kind of thing before. He was such a natural.
“As much fun as it is to talk to you all, we still have a lot of work ahead of us. Have a wonderful week and happy gaming!” Jon cut the stream while the comment section was still buzzing like a hive. The weapon discussion was taking on new steam, while some other gamers had opened a new battlefield about the representation of female warriors in computer games. Jon and Barion hadn’t given the topic much thought because they both didn’t like the oversexualized avatars some players seemed to prefer, and by sticking close to reality—the one that officially was fiction—oversexualization couldn’t happen, because demonesses weren’t any different from demons, with the exception of jewelry, which demons were fonder of than their female counterparts but didn’t wear in battle because it was impractical. Plus, losing your favorite necklace to a careless sweep of a claw was frustrating as all hell. With a last glance at the comments section, showing him that their female avatar was very well received by the feminist part of the gamers, Jon shut his PC down. He got up from his seat and stretched, letting his bones pop.
“I’d say this was a success.”
“A huge one. I never thought they would like the avatars so much.” Barion got up as well, stifling a yawn.
“Why? They’re really good, even if I do say so myself.”
“I think it’s because we had so much fun creating them that I never thought of it as work. And if it didn’t require hard work, it can’t be any good, can it?”
“That’s an adorably old-fashioned way to look at things. I know what you mean, of course, because when I was alive, it was the same. If you didn’t have to work and bleed and sweat and curse for it, it was worthless.” Jon took the almost-empty plates to bring them into the kitchen. “But think about it, Barion. We did bleed and sweat and curse for it. We just never realized it because it was so much fun at the same time. Remember when we couldn’t get the color of the scales around Augnielle’s eyes right? I recall a lot of swearing on our part.” He winked.
“You’re right. That one was a bitch. I’m still not entirely happy with how the design blurs when she moves. It’s a good thing we only showed them the sketches and not the animated versions.”
“This is just the beginning, Barion. We have time to iron out all the little bugs and quirks.”
“I know. I know.” Barion carried the water bottles to the kitchen.
They stood there, Jon putting the plates into the dishwasher, Barion placing the bottles in the carrier. The atmosphere between them was changing from the relaxed exhilaration of a successful showing to a more loaded heaviness Jon wasn’t sure he liked. What he did know for sure, however, was that they had to get it out in the open. He took a deep breath, readying himself for whatever this conversation was going to bring.
“Talking to Sammy was painful—and kind of an eye-opener.”
Barion sighed as if the weight of the world was concentrated on his chest. “So was talking to Dre.”
“Well, they’re mates for a reason.”
“You could say that.” Barion snorted. “Dre was right though, in many respects.” He closed his eyes for a moment. Then he directed his intense gaze at Jon. “For as long as I can think, I was looking for my mate—hoping, praying, he or she would fall into my lap. I’ve been searching, dreaming. It was such an integral part of my life, this yearning, that I almost didn’t realize when it stopped.”
Jon wasn’t sure what to make of Barion’s words. Hope was warring with guilt about keeping his friend from finding his forever partner.
“It stopped?” Jon wasn’t capable of more than that.
Barion nodded. “It did. Shortly after the two of us started hanging out. All of a sudden, I wasn’t living in a potential future anymore, but in the here and now. I didn’t even realize it until Dre pointed it out to me. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to find my mate. But Dre made me see how many things I have missed because I was so fixated on my impossible goal.”
“It’s not impossible. Look at Dre and Sammy.”
“They’re meeting was pure chance. If Milo hadn’t summoned Dre, my brother would have never set foot in Beaconville.” Barion took a step closer to Jon, smiling broadly. “Which makes me believe I will meet my mate the same way. By chance. All the searching I’ve been doing hasn’t helped any, so I’ve decided to relax and let fate or whoever is in charge do its thing.”
Jon licked his lips nervously. He noticed how Barion’s eyes followed his tongue, a little red bleeding into them. “What does that mean?”
Barion held out his hand and Jon didn’t hesitate to put his own inside the huge palm. The warmth flowing through him was reassuring and so familiar that he could have cried.
