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The glow from the moon filtered through the trees in the cave. Cerys entertained herself briefly, chest rising and falling steadily as her breathing steadied. This moment, this afterglow, was perfect…and she was about to ruin it.
“I’m leaving tomorrow to scout the area,” she said quietly. She heard her partner shift slightly beside her, inhaling slowly and deeply. Tilses wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling Cerys’s back against her chest. Tilses was quite a bit taller than her, and Cerys marveled at how perfectly they fit together this way. The scout settled, breathing out as Tilses tightened the blanket around them both.
“I wish you didn’t have to,” Tilses admitted quietly. She nuzzled her face into Cerys’s red locks, humming contentedly. “It seems…cruel we don’t have more time together.”
Cerys closed her eyes. Fate had a…funny way of working. The two of them would have never found each other if it weren’t for the Tieflings’ banishment from Elturel. If the new High Observer would have allowed them to stay, Tilses inevitably would have rapidly risen in the ranks—she had mentioned Zevlor nominated her for corporal prior to the descent. And Cerys would have…well, it didn’t matter what she would have done. Even so, she found herself desperately wishing they could have met under happier circumstances. Though they hadn’t known each other long, she had grown fond of Tilses on their journey. The woman had a quiet resolve that was admirable, not to mention her prowess with a blade. Unfortunately, their situation necessitated that their time together would be cut short.
There’s always Baldur’s Gate, she reasoned. But something unpleasant clenched in her belly, as though she knew there wasn’t a chance both of them would…
Cerys winced. No. Don’t think about that. Not now. She burrowed further into the blanket, scooting closer into Tilses, desperate for her warmth. The Hellrider made a soft noise and huddled close, kissing the spot between her horns atop Cerys’s head.
“You just stay right here for tonight,” Tilses playfully ordered.
“My mother told me to always listen to the Hellriders,” Cerys quipped right back. That drew a laugh from her snuggle buddy. (Gods, banter was so easy with her.) The taller woman tipped her head back to look at the night sky.
“You know,” she mused, “this place isn’t so bad. You get a beautiful view of the stars here.” Tilses drew in a long breath. “It’s nice to have changes in the sky.”
Cerys knew that all too well. They were both born under the Companion. Their lives went from being constantly bathed in light to being pitched into the total darkness of Avernus. Going from one extreme to the other had been jarring. To have a difference between night and day…? It felt almost…decadent. “The stars are almost as beautiful as you,” she attempted.
That drew a cheerful laugh from Tilses. “You’re so sweet.”
How did a Hellrider last in the service and remain such a force of positivity…? Despite the horrors she had to endure in the Hells, fighting to protect Elturel, she was still Tilses. Zevlor, the old Hellrider, was much more tired and jaded, but not the younger one—Tilses’s optimistic, go-getter nature was pushing them all forward. She wanted to bathe in Tilses’s glow.
And Cerys desperately hoped that her spark never faded. That pit returned in her stomach as she cuddled close to the muscular woman’s chest and squeezed her eyes shut. “Hey,” Tilses called gently. “Where are you going?”
Cerys willed herself to smile and turned her face back toward her partner’s. “Nowhere,” she responded softly. “Not while you’re around.”
Tilses mouth quirked as she gently nudged Cerys’s hip in indication. As Tilses shifted over her, Cerys decided she could feel safe and protected for now…and worry about the horrors in the morning.