Chapter Text
The main hall of the tavern was as bustling as ever as the timid faelyne breached the entrance and forced her way through. There were other, less intimidating establishments she could have visited, sure, but she was going to have to brave this one in particular if she wanted to achieve her goal. She chanced a hesitant glance at her surroundings as she struggled to compose herself amidst the jostling and general activity pummeling her on every side. The scene that greeted her was little more than an endless sea of ever fluctuating, vacillating bodies of all shapes, sizes, colors, and smells. Traits and gestures and details of the myriad of patrons were seamlessly woven into the atmosphere, intensifying the electrifying, almost intoxicating influence of the space.
‘Great,’ Nova thought to herself with a prominent groan, ‘this is just the kind of chaos I need right now.’
Her misgivings only seemed to grow with every shaky, shallow breath she took as she scanned the increasingly intimidating horde before her. If only she’d brought her tressym familiar, Io, along; at least the winged feline could have helped calm the Astrologian’s easily frayed nerves. Braving the rafters to provide an overhead perspective wouldn’t have hurt, either. Then again, considering the especially unruly state of the tavern this evening, leaving her loyal familiar behind was probably in her best interest. Io’s, that is. Unfortunately for her hapless owner, the faelyne was still bound to undertake the task of wading through the rambunctious mob in order to locate her companion.
A companion by the name of Tamarisk, she was a Mystic by trade and one of Nova’s closest and dearest confidants. It was a little difficult for the priestess of the Moonweaver to form significant, long term relationships due to several complicated circumstances beyond her control, but for the most part she didn’t mind. Perhaps, in truth, that excuse was more something she told herself in a pitiful attempt to dull the pain of rejection, the isolating loneliness of her true existence. No use wasting valuable time on unproductive musings: Nova had a lycanthrope to find, one she hoped had arrived early enough to avoid the discord she was lamentably preparing to navigate.
Sweeping some star-dappled locks from her face, her feline ears twitched as she inched forward and took a stab at assessing the room more thoroughly. The decor was standard fair with a decently furnished wooden interior and flairs of Emon tacked on here and there. If she was hoping to find some useful clues, her current approach was a lost cause. There wasn’t a lot to see, especially considering her limited height and the complete lack of any open space where people weren’t ranting and raving and shoving as their drunken guffaws rattled the rafters.
She searched the sections of the balcony she could see from this angle, snagging what blurry glimpses she could of the bar and central hall as she was forced to duck, bob, and weave her way past disorderly tavern goers. A startled hiss escaped her lips as she abruptly stumbled back against a door. Thankfully, it was latched shut and caught her weight, sparing her from being ejected who-knows-where.
She furiously probed the crowd with her keen gaze in a fruitless attempt to pinpoint the culprit before they could give her the slip. Unfortunately, it felt impossible to focus on any one thing as she regained her bearings. Was the jarring nature of her experience thus far some subtle tactic the universe was employing to dissuade her from completing her objective? If fate was aiming for subtly, it was kind of doing a shitty job, and likewise failing in its mission to prevent her from finding her friend.
As if the universe was intent on confirming her suspicions, the sound of glass shattering much too close for comfort ripped another hiss from her. Roars of laughter and elated cries advocating greater, grander displays of destruction boomed from one of the tables nearby; she was starting to wonder if this endeavor was even worth the trouble. If she knew what was good for her, she would take her leave immediately.
But, even if she had to circumvent a few ruffians and uncomfortable outbursts in the process, meeting up with Tamarisk was worth it. Shaking off bits of debris, pieces of glass and drops of ale that’d scattered on her sleeve due to her proximity to the incident, she pressed forward and concentrated on putting some distance between herself and the more unruly patrons. The table that’d kicked off the ruckus appeared to be occupied by a lively group Nova didn’t have the time or patience to deal with.
“Gotta stay calm, gotta stay focused,” she chanted under her breath as she shimmied towards the nearest vacant stretch of wall. Bracing herself against the sturdy surface for balance, she pushed up on tiptoe and inspected the daunting throng before her. Her dark eyes darted this way and that as she swiveled her ears to catch more sound, but it was pointless––a cacophony of chaos she just couldn’t make out.
“Hey there. You look like you could use some help,” an unexpectedly handsome voice addressed her, startling her half out of her wits.
She squeaked and involuntarily dropped her stance. A flame of embarrassment sparked in her cheeks, followed by the distinct sensation of prickling hair as her fur began to rise. She was a bit hesitant to even respond, knowing the rumors of the majority of the clientele that tended to frequent the taverns at this hour. However, the minute she laid eyes on the curious stranger, something even more compelling caught her eye.
It wasn’t that she recognized him (although she did register that she’d seen him mingling with the same group she’d just made up her mind to avoid), and it wasn’t that his appearance impressed her (although her eyes did linger a bit longer than was considered courteous.) Instead, something about him beckoned her like the moon calls the tides, and the befuddled faelyne felt the fur on her tail begin to settle in his presence for some inexplicable reason.
A reason that would become apparent to her sooner than she realized…sooner than she was prepared for. Maybe she should’ve prevented her thoughts from drifting in such a direction, maybe it was unwise and foolish and shallow for her to allow herself to be charmed by some random guy she was almost certain to never encounter again. He’d barely said two words to her thus far; it wasn’t like he’d given her all that much to get attached to.
Meanwhile, the unfamiliar man examined the unconventional young woman before him. The ostentatious nature of her appearance was definitely one of her most noteworthy features, starkly contrasted with a personality that couldn’t seem to fold in on itself any further if it tried. Her humanoid form was accented with catlike appendages on her head and back, yet that still wasn’t the most remarkable thing he noticed about her.
The hair and fur that adorned her were black as pitch and flecked with starlight, which wasn’t a metaphor or exaggeration in this extremely unique case. The starstruck half-elf couldn’t tear his eyes away; he was positively enchanted by her. It might’ve been more beneficial to avoid acknowledging the influence she was having on him in the first place, but he was fairly certain this was the first time he’d ever encountered anyone quite like her. There was something nagging him, gnawing at him, begging him not to let her slip away.
He was about a full head taller than her and his looks weren’t necessarily exceptional, but he was handsome…by Nova’s standards, anyway. Possibly even more than she was willing to admit. His dark brown strands reached at least double her length and he had a tan complexion that framed similarly dark eyes; the pointed tips of his ears were a prominent trait that belonged to several of the races scattered throughout Tal’dorei. In her experience, the earshape of full-blooded fae and elven races alike tended to adhere to a specific length. Compared to the individuals she’d crossed paths with over the years the best guess she could make was that he was a half-elf; even then her assessment still could’ve been completely off.
Alas, none of those superficial details held a candle to the significance embedded in the slightest flicker of color, the swiftest flash of a thread that Nova glimpsed out of the corner of her eye; it was a sight that made her heart jump and her very being shudder. It was proof of a rumor, a kind of fable plenty of people scoffed at, but Nova knew better. She knew the true merit of the stories and truths engraved upon the stars she’d read so thoroughly, so obsessively, devouring and studying them for as long as she could remember.
Despite her extensive training, she didn’t consider herself an expert on fate by any means. She certainly didn’t think herself skilled enough to unravel the complicated, intricately tangled threads of destiny on her own, much less observe one with the naked eye. The hint of striking, breathtaking red was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and when she double checked the space it’d occupied she found no further evidence to support her suspicions. It wasn’t hard to imagine she was just seeing things, especially in a place as wild and rowdy as this…right?
“Everything alright?” the man prompted as her silence persisted. His interruption bought her just enough time to corral the stampede of thoughts trampling her mind, at least temporarily. “Don’t mean to bother you, you just look…a little lost.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice that only made her feel more self-conscious.
“No no, it’s fine,” Nova finally answered, scrambling to salvage the conversation in the aftermath of her blunder of etiquette. “I mean, uh, thank you. For offering to help, I mean. But I think I’ll be fine.”
The half-elf scrutinized the girl that was clearly out of her depth with a raised brow, and a sudden pressure swelled in her chest. She was trying not to think about the inconsequential detail that’d somehow managed to catch her eye, yet simultaneously refused to leave her alone. Feeling a little claustrophobic and with nerves that were already shot beyond repair, what was the worst that could happen if she accepted his aid just this once? Admittedly, there were many horrific possibilities she could imagine, but perhaps taking his offer wouldn’t prove as risky in such a populated setting. Anything was better than trying to search the tavern alone.
“Actually, I just…” she spoke to fill the silence, intimidated by the skeptical expression still plastered on the stranger’s frustratingly winsome face. “I’m looking for someone, if you can help me do that.” Her gloves barely managed to keep her nails from piercing through to the palm as she clenched her fists. “But if you don’t want to bother, that’s fine. I don’t really feel like trying to persuade you.”
Were she less overwhelmed, she would’ve been inclined to wince at the bluntness of her words. As things stood, she was just relieved she’d managed to speak without stumbling over them.
“Well, you don’t need to, if that helps,” he reassured with a smile that fanned the scarlet betrayal staining her cheeks. That definitely wasn’t a good sign. “If you can give me a description, I’ll do my best to help you find whoever it is you’re looking for.”
Nova complied without complaint, more than a little worn out despite the relatively short stint she’d spent immersed in such a hectic atmosphere. She hoped she wasn’t coming off as an easy mark, but there were few instances where she actually managed to sell herself as anything else. Given the right setting and a fitting audience, she could most certainly impress with all her elegant robes and fancy rituals. She’d embraced and dutifully fulfilled her role as a priestess of the Moonweaver for as long as she could remember, earning a relatively high ranking position that even still belied the true nature of her service and commitment.
“That should be enough for me to work with,” the man replied as Nova finished relaying the key details of her friend’s appearance. His confident, slightly coy expression made his eyes light up in a way that only captivated her further. No, she couldn’t be having these kinds of thoughts, she could not allow herself to get sidetracked, or enamored for that matter. She’d made it this far, all she really wanted to do was locate Tamarisk and potentially strongarm her into finding a more subdued spot for them to spend the evening. “Actually, I think I saw someone matching that description not too long ago--”
“Really?” Nova gasped in a surge of relief before she could stop herself. She tamped down her enthusiasm in an effort to avoid reacting in such an embarrassing manner again. The vulnerable desperation of her outburst only exacerbated the man’s guilt. He’d initially approached her to ensure she was unscathed following a flippant tankard toss from his group that’d somehow, thankfully, managed to miss her. She appeared to be completely unaware of his contribution to the mayhem, and as long as that worked in his favor he saw no need to set the record straight. “I mean, that would be…that would be great. But if it turns out it wasn’t her, you don’t need to go out of your way to do anything else.”
“Only one way to find out,” the half-elf quipped as his lips curved into a playful smirk.
Without any warning, because why would she need it, the surprisingly friendly stranger grasped Nova’s hand. It shouldn’t have been a big deal; it shouldn’t have meant anything! It didn’t mean anything…yet the moment their hands touched it felt as if the world around them had radically shifted. A pair of dark brown eyes bore back into an identical void, both parties barely noticing the hair framing their faces as they drowned in the depths of each other’s gaze. The faint ghost of a thread, fleeting and vibrant, left an imprint on their vision as they stood frozen in a moment of convoluted disbelief and hope. They swallowed in unison, a million questions and thoughts and possibilities tearing through their heads like a hurricane. Then, just as quickly as it’d struck, the metaphorical spell was broken.
The stranger reinforced his grip and dove into the fray. It was all Nova could do to keep hold of his hand as he pulled her along, cutting through the obstructive, excitable patrons like a rapid over rocks. Evading the crowd with such ease and finesse, his expertise both caught her off guard and further piqued her interest. That was the last thing she needed. Her apprehensive fingers fluttered with indecision as she contemplated breaking away. A hasty reminder from the barely functioning recesses of her psyche that he was helping her accomplish her own task stayed her hand.
The half-elf, otherwise known as Vax, didn’t know what to do. He tried to make it easy for his companion to keep up, his awareness split between the unexpectedly tense grip on his hand and the mob he was attempting to deliver her from. He couldn’t stop thinking about that smear of red, that faint trace of fate he would have been wise to dismiss as nothing more than a trick of the light. It shocked him, scared him, intrigued him, confused him…until he came right back around to not having a single fucking clue what his next move should be.
He’d help her reach her friend; those were the terms he’d agreed to. The only terms he’d agreed to, if he was being technical. And considering the potential scope of the revelation he was wrestling with, being technical was one of the only ways he could compartmentalize the distress and uncertainty that plagued him so. After a few more minutes of working their way across the floor, a span that felt more like hours, the duo fortunately succeeded in making it through in one piece.
Popping out on the opposite side of the tavern, Nova breathed a tremulous sigh of relief as the space around her opened up for the first time since she’d arrived. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to stay and visit as long as she and Tamarisk kept their distance from the main hall. As she glanced over her shoulder at the frenzy she’d just been extricated from, she was too preoccupied to realize that she hadn’t exactly released the stranger’s hand yet.
And, as it turned out, she didn’t need to. The minute her eyes lit up with recognition in the direction of the slightly less congested corner of the bar, Vax made his escape. Retracting his hand and plunging back into the masses, part of him couldn’t wait to get away from her. He’d done his duty and now he could leave it behind, along with any memories and thoughts he’d happened to accumulate over the duration of their short lived exchange.
Much to his dismay, there was also a conflicted part of him that couldn’t seem to stop wailing, ranting, and raving at him to turn back and properly introduce himself. He hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye, and he’d likewise robbed her of any opportunity to express her gratitude. All that wasted potential wasn’t what he needed to focus on at the moment, though. Vax needed to return to his friends, to his party, to the life he lived that was scrubbed clean of any and every trace of the peculiar girl’s existence.
Until now, that is.
As Nova’s gaze drifted back to the more subdued section of the bar, her eyes fell upon the familiar form of her friend at the counter. From what she could tell, this side of the establishment had previously served as the central hub of tavern activity, subsequently overlooked for the most part following bigger and better renovations. But, luckily for Nova and Tamarisk, the tempered ambiance was a fitting setting for their reunion.
“Oh, thank you so much for all your--”
When the faelyne turned to thank the man properly, there was no one to thank. No body filled the space beside her, no sound of retreating steps stomped across the floorboards, no gentle disturbance of air tickled her cheek as he vanished. Not a shred of the charming half-elf’s presence remained, even after everything he’d done for her…and, well, she couldn’t deny that she found the lackluster turn of events disappointing. His kind demeanor and spirit of charity had truly been a help to her, and if she was being honest she wasn’t content with parting as strangers, a cut and dry affair.
If she happened to run into him again this evening, she wouldn’t let him get away until she’d sufficiently conveyed her thanks. If he truly was gone from her life for good, only time was sure to tell. But the unrelenting memory of the unmistakable strand she’d perceived in his presence lingered in her mind, filling her with trepidation and a bittersweet sense of longing that she desperately hoped would fade with time.
What wishful thinking that was.