"Perhaps you've spent too long at her side and she's getting sick of seeing your face," mused Raziel, waving to the bartender to double the order of lager. "Or, far more likely, you've been needing a night out. Congratulations, Ariel, you've found a woman with the spine to push you to enjoy your existence. That should truly be heartening. Oh. And there are ulterior motives, of course, for this meeting. I have something for you."
He pulled from his pocket a small roll of paper and the coin sigil. They, he knew, would ring in vibration to Ariel once the man saw them, a soul-acknowledgment of one's own name. He set them on the table between them.