I needed this.
My hooves' sound, the open back, the soft hum of music behind the bar. Tonight wasn’t about being a guardian or solving ancient problems. Tonight was about letting go — just for a while.

The bartender raised an eyebrow as I took my seat. “Evening,” he said.

I smiled. “Something strong, but sweet. Preferably glowing.”

He chuckled and got to work.

The humans around me were buzzing with conversation and cheap flirtation. One tried to impress his date by listing the planets he thought he could name. Another spilled half his drink while telling a joke that barely landed. And somehow, it all felt… refreshing. Like chaos without consequence.

When the drink arrived — bright blue with a curled straw — I couldn’t help but laugh. “Looks like it was mixed in a wizard’s lab.”

“You said glowing,” the bartender shrugged, wiping down the counter.

We exchanged stories. Nothing heavy. I mentioned “travel,” skipped the dimensional part. He told me he used to be a singer before taking over the bar from his father. I liked that. There was warmth in the simplicity.

I leaned back, watching the bottles glow in the shelves. No pressure. No expectations. Just humans being human… and me, pretending — maybe believing — that I belonged right in the middle of it.

I wasn’t saving anyone tonight.
But I was definitely saving myself.