Adri woke with a start. The violet light shimmering through the curtains raised goose bumps on his skin despite the warmth of the air. Some scholars said that prophetic dreams were common when Vesti, the purple Moon of Shaping, grew large in the sky. Others dismissed those claims.
All Adri knew was his dreams had been jumbled lately—giving him scales, feathers, antlers, antennae. He'd been flying, awkward as a fledgling, and a missed stroke woke him with a start. That and Vesti's chilling light. When the purple moon reached full, they would find their Shapes and everything would change.
He turned restlessly onto his back and stared at the crude dragon carved in a ceiling beam. There were other marks in the wood: chips, graffiti, and declarations from lovers long dead. The Drake's Host had been a tavern for nearly two thousand years, and this room on the top floor had housed many people before them. In the light of the purple moon, he could only make out the barest of details. And the unfamiliar color made every scratch and figure seem a portent of doom.
Adri rose from the bed. Dru grumbled and reached for him, but Adri shrugged his hand away. He ducked behind the curtain and watched Vesti, not quite full, glowing just above the tree line. Moak, the drab moon of cycles and predictability, was tainted by Vesti's color as it floated next to the spire of the ancient bell tower. The stone buildings of Ilyan City were too dark to be affected, but even the new gas lamps in Dushara Square had a purple taint.
Dru wasn't troubled by dreams. Maybe Adri's lover was one of the lucky ones who would remain fully human.
"Adri?" The low murmur of Dru's voice made him shiver. Adri should enjoy the time they had together, but he was haunted by the violet light.
The curtains rustled, and strong arms slid around his waist. Adri sighed and relaxed into the familiar embrace. Dru was shorter than him, but broader across the shoulders with strong arms that fit around Adri like they were made to hold him.
"I didn't mean to wake you."
"You should have." Dru's hips shimmied against Adri's ass. "Time can be better spent than in brooding, my love."
"I'm sorry." Adri leaned more deeply into Dru's embrace. "These dreams... I was flying..."
"Flying?" Dru's breath tickled his ear. "That would be glorious. We could soar together..."
"It doesn't work like that." Adri sighed. "I know you don't want to talk about it."
"This myth that we won't remember each other." Dru stiffened. "I don't believe it."
"That's what all the stories say." Adri pulled away. "All the rituals are in preparation for letting go."
-- from "Fugue in Gold and Fire" by Avery Vanderlyle