Short Story: Twelve Thousand Years in Coming.

There were so many names for magic users.  Mage was the prefered catch-all term, especially amongst Nielda.  The Ga-Vok always called a powerful mage 'Shaman', even though almost all knew the difference between their own ceremonious magic users and the bolt flinging warriors that tended to be recognized as powerful amongst mages.  Amongst the Harakai, and their more orderly, ritualistic style of magic such a mage would be known as a prophet, or a warlock, a term seldom heard beyond their borders.  To the Pythens the man would be known only as a menace, and most lesser races would view a truly powerful mage as a god.  Humans could be similarly fooled, but never for so long as most races.  His personal favorite term for the top-notch battle-mages that tended to stand out across the annals of time was that used by the Jaguans: Show Off.  
And he could say that, he was one of them.  


He wasn't the best, he'd met the best, she was one of the rudest most self-righteous people he'd ever met.  The next best happened to be in the next room, trying to pick which of her earings to wear to dinner.  The woman after her could be anywhere, but wherever it was, it would have grown much colder since she arrived.  He'd never asked who was number four, he was sort of hoping it was him.  But the most intimidating thing about all of them was that he had never seen any of them use magic in battle.  The first two had always used a blade, and the third could kill only at the cost of her life.  It made him wonder how much of their alleged skill was actually magical, and how much was just the survival rate of their adversaries.  If he were to operate purely on the basis of observed magical ability, then the most powerful mage would probably have been the mad scientist, Cysstronella Von Gravaga, even though it had been directly stated to him in the past that she couldn't throw a punch to save her life.  Informed magical ability simply didn't add up, but there was no polite way of asking them to demonstrate that they really were that powerful.  


"Be a dear and pass me the other box.  Nothing in this one matches my outfit."  
Krell picked up the indicated box of jewelry and set it down in front of his companion.  Normally he would have meant that only in that they traveled around the universe together stopping villains and seeing the sights; mostly seeing the sights.  Tonight however, was the annual cosmetic corporation's gala and fashion show.  Since Rea owned one of the companies, it would have been excruciatingly rude for her to not attend.  It would have also been rather odd, since she mostly paid for it and it was the only public appearance she made all year. Since they'd been travelling together for the past year, she'd invited him to accompany her.  
For anyone else he would have said no; he'd never had any interest in the business, or indeed business in general.  


"So why exactly did you want me to come anyways?"
Rea looked up and caught his eyes in the mirror.  "Because I like having you around.  Things are more fun when you have someone to do them with.  And I especially enjoy doing things with you."  
"You sure its not just that you want to show me off in front of all the corporate fat cats?"
"This is fashion Krell, the cats are skinny, very skinny.  But I'll make sure to point out my chief competitors so you can repeat the remark.  I want to see them squirm a little."
Krell smiled.  He could remember telling his aides something similar before attending a political ball.  There had been rather more at stake then, but the social dynamic was equivocal.  A bunch of insiders, who all knew each other's business and had more often than not been sleeping with the same people.  He was still the outsider, and he realized that even though Rea had probably intimidated these people's great grandparents at galas a half a millennia ago, she was still the outsider.  She paid for the party, she dominated the industry, but socially she was detached from the group.  Immortality did that, but not nearly as much as the having been fourteen the whole time.  He'd been an outsider to the council because he'd gotten there through skill and virtue, where most had inherited it or wheedled their way in.  He had been the knight in the court of thieves, and here she was the warrior in the court of illusion.  
"I think the amethyst studs would work fine with that outfit."
"They'll expect me to model the latest fashions.  Gaudy is in this year."
"It'll be televised, there's a recession going on, the people will find your style far more approachable than the usual fashions."
"Wear something that ordinary women could wear on their budget then?"
He nodded.  "People wear makeup to try and look beautiful.  It'd be good for their self-esteem to think that they actually have a chance at looking as good as the models they'll see tonight."
"Will they buy more that way?"
"If they think that what the distance is shorter, they'll be twice as likely to try.  They won't spend as much, but more will spend."  
"I think,"  She turned around to face him eye to eye.  "That you have no idea how this industry works."
"Guilty as charged."
Rea snapped, the frills on the dress vanished, all the ruffles receded, and the poofier bits deflated.  He noticed that she was already wearing the selected jewelry.  
"And I still look beautiful?"
He blushed.  Truth be told, he was rather more aware of it now that all the distracting ruffles and poof was gone.  Rea had been filling out well since the fight with Legion on Stormguarde.  She was nearly as tall as he was now, and her...features had..well she'd just grown up a lot.  It took a lot more steelsil for her to cover her entire body now, and even then she would never be mistaken for anything but a young woman.  
It wasn't just her body that had matured of course.  She was more calm than she had been before.  Still insatiably active, and the pace she kept was hard to keep up with; although he was getting better at doing so.  And a lot, although certainly not all, of her insecurities had diminished as well.  
She smiled.  "I hoped so.  You look quite dashing yourself."  She had a slight blush of her own, and not just from the makeup.  "Krell, about Anatolia."
"It wasn't your fault.  Zink loved the planet as much as you did.  It wouldn't have made any difference if you'd tried to stop her."
"No, not that.  You're right, it wouldn't have, but I actually meant at the library.  You said 'your last girlfriend'.  I know who you meant, but I kinda thought.  I mean it just sounded like you were saying I..that is to say that there was someone after that."
Oh..OH, she thought that he'd meant.  But that was..
Was it though?  They might as well have been.  They flirted all the time, even if he wasn't really trying to.  She'd clearly always found him attractive, and he wouldn't deny that he found her attractive.  They were like best friends, but not quite.  Was that what they were?  
"Rea, I didn't quite mean it like that.  I was joking around."  She'd been nervous the whole time she'd been asking the question, and now it was all replaced by a rush of disappointment and even a tinge of fear.  "But that doesn't mean it wasn't true.  I wasn't really thinking about it then.  But truth be told, it only came to mind because it felt true.  Rea, I haven't actually felt this way about someone in a long time, since Lewiza died.  But I do care about you.  And if you feel like what we have needs a label, I think dating would be the most fitting one."  She started to smile again.  One might even go so far as to say she was beaming.  
"You really suck at romance, you know that?  So what now?"  
"I'm a bit rusty on this, but I think we go to the party and continue as we've been going.  Maybe at the end of the night we kiss.  I think we should just play it by ea..."  Apparently the end of the night was longer than she wanted to wait.  And after having waited nearly twelve thousand years for it, he could hardly blame her for not wanting to wait another couple hours for her first kiss.