Chapter Text
The traveler dodged one of Rerir’s attacks, diving to the side as he parried an abyssal hand. Sparks hissed where the blow scraped the ground.
“Nefer! Where are the others?”
Nefer spun, her heel connecting with Rerir’s plated chest in a stabbing back kick. The blow barely staggered him. “Stuck outside the barrier…I suppose he really doesn’t like us.”
Ha, understatement of the year. Rerir wasn’t fighting to win, he was fighting to wipe them off the map. And she refused to die here, not after everything she had worked for.
Rerir’s growl vibrated through the air like thunder. “I told you before…knowing too much is always a death sentence.”
Scoffing, Nefer taunted him. “Heh, be careful what you wish for!”
Cocky bastard. A man who claimed to deal in intelligence yet spat his own death threats and monologues for far too long. It was a miracle he was even still in his profession.
The battle was raging in full force at this point. Every attack and dodge was balancing between deciding whether she lived and died.
Together, Nefer and the Traveler ducked and wove through the sinner’s unrelenting barrage, each strike shaking the ground.
The air reeked of burnt ozone and splintered magic. Flashes of green and black flared across the field, every collision a scream of power against power.
From somewhere far away, Lauma’s voice broke through the crackling chaos. Sounding thin and distorted. “Traveler…Nef… you were sep…are you…kay?”
The traveler slashed through another abyssal hand, lunging forward with a desperate cry. “Lauma! Can you hear me?!”
Filn’s voice echoed next, faint and flickering. “Hold on—we’re…”
“Silence.” Rerir’s snarl ripped across the field as he vaulted upward, wings of dark flame fanning out.
A rain of abyssal fireballs crashed down, exploding in waves of molten heat. The world turned white with noise. The connection snapped, their allies’ voices devoured by fire and static.
Nefer’s claws flashed green as she struck again and again, darting through the smoke, releasing dendro bursts that flared against Rerir’s shrouded form.
They may have been silenced but they were still fighting with them. She just needed to follow the plan, uphold the most important part with the traveler.
Stalling.
Everything depended on stalling.
Sprinting across the fractured ground, Nefer snatched up three kuuvahki shields one by one. They pulsed weakly in her grasp, drained near half-empty.
Her stomach dropped as she looked up. Rerir hovered above, his body glowed with stolen power, so much abyssal light pulsing within his veins that the air trembled with it.
Time was running out. Far too fast for her liking. She didn’t want to resort to it. Curses, there was no other choice.
Drawing dendro power into her hands, she pressed her fingers into a triangle and cast her gaze into the array just like Thoth had taught her.
Light flared as emerald lines snapped into a pyramidal shape. The force of it rose up and seized Rerir midair. For a heartbeat, he froze, suspended like an insect in glass before he tore free with an ear-shattering roar.
Oh, if only Thoth could see her now, he would think her ungrateful for the many gifts he had granted her in his desperate attempt to escape his prison.
Rerir gathered his energy into one massive sphere of darkness and flung it like a collapsing star. The blast hitting them like a relentless tidal wave.
Nefer barely remained standing after, her head ringing, and vision fading to gray. The world around her was draining of color, leaving only the faint, stubborn emerald of her elemental sight.
“Nefer, your eyes are bleeding!” The traveler’s voice was raw, close, a trembling hand catching her shoulder.
She almost laughed. So astute of them to notice. The sound of boots marching closer smothered the impulse.
“Hah, soon you will be powerless to resist. And then, I will reduce you to dust!” Did this man ever run out of things to say? If he did he didn’t learn anything other than running his mouth.
“But that dust will plague your memories!” she taunted, forcing herself upright. Come on…keep holding on.
Her vision swam, but she refused to give in. She couldn’t dare to think of not watching history unfold right before her eyes.
“Any other tricks up your sleeves? Let’s see them.” Rerir stalked closer, scythe gleaming with voidlight. “As entertaining as they are…you’ve backed yourself into a corner.”
Keep talking. Keep stalling. Every second he monologued was a second closer to the plan’s success. “You don’t fool me. I see your fear, clear as day.”
She had to bait him, make him lose control. “You fear what you could never defeat. You fear the thought of never being able to save your beloved. You cannot win this fight against fate, Rerir!”
Rerir tilted his head, the smirk curdling into rage. “Hmm, is that what you think? Well now it’s your turn to feel afraid!”
The traveler gritted his teeth, still supporting her, voice cutting through the dark. “You fear the sound of your own name?”
From his shoulder, Nefer rasped out, “Ugh, is…it us you hate? Or is it what you’ve become?”
Rerir’s eyes narrowed, black fire curling around his hands. “Hmph…let’s see what becomes of you!” He roared again, unleashing a storm of abyssal hand-ribbons that whipped toward them like blades of the void.
Only for his attack to be absorbed by a brilliant burst of golden light, illuminating into a graceful hit geometric style.
The array began to spin, geometric and blinding, it surged upward, tearing into the void energy and leeching the kuuvahki Rerir had stolen.
“Urgh! What’s…happening?” Rerir staggered, thrashing against invisible bonds. His eyes darted across the sigils below. “That pattern…I’ve seen it before!”
Laughing maniacally, Rerir raised his arms as he lifted his scythe. “We have a student of “Gold” Rhinedotter in our midst!"
Nefer's ears perked up at the mention of that name, so he did know the only sinner. This only confirmed the memories she had looked at.
“How about this…” she cried triumphantly, spotting the figure of her saving grace. From the sky, silvery tendrils cascaded downward, forming into the unmistakable figure of the moon goddess, Columbina.
The air detonated as Columbina collided with Rerir mid-flight, her lunar energy clashing against his abyssal flame. Every blow lit the sky in a violent burst of light like comets descending.
Hurtling to the ground, the two combatants skidded backwards in the sand. Slashing his weapon, sparks of void fire flaring to more behind him, Rerir sneered. “You use my own power against me!?”
Columbina calmly retorted, charging up her next attack. “Just how you stole kuuvaki…look familiar?”
Unleashing her spell, a web of lunar energy wove itself around him, trapping him like a bug in a spiderweb. Holding him in place, Columbina cast again.
The ground trembled as a portal opened behind him, a massive moongate blooming into being. Glancing behind him, the sinner relaxed in his bonds.
Despite this, Rerir’s muscles still strained against the tendrils, his teeth still bared in defiance. “Don’t you realize, you don’t have the power to hold that gate open.”
Fighting to hold the sinner in her grasp, Columbina braced her hand with her other. “I don’t, but someone else does.”
Shoving him into the moongate, Rerir flew past everyone like a bullet. Behind him, Dainsleif closed the portal gate for good. His last words to the sinner are colder than a tomb, “Goodbye, Rerir.”
The gate finally sealed shut, the battlefield went eerily silent save for Nefer’s ragged breathing, and the lingering shimmer of fading light.
Nefer panted, her eyes finally closed against the pain lancing through them. They had made it, Rerir was temporarily dealt with thanks to Columbina and Dainsleif.
“Nefer, how are your eyes?” The traveler asked, their hand hovering near her back.
How can this person be so trusting? She couldn’t help but think, “They’re fine. Apart from the blindness, of course.”
From beside her, she heard Columbina speak up. “It’s not too late…”
“Let me handle it”, the ever present soothing sound of Lauma’s voice quickly piped up.
Nefer forced her knees to stay locked, refusing to crumble. If Columbina said there was still a chance, she’d take it. Especially if it came from Lauma, with her odd need to mend what shouldn’t be mendable.
A soft slicing sound reached her ears, making her frown. Was that a knife? She tried to glance toward it but immediately regretted the motion; her eyes throbbed viciously beneath the crusted blood sealing them shut.
Something warm dripped across her lips, a quiet whisper from Lauma urging her to drink. She obeyed, swallowing, a zesty flavor like nectar given a herbal zing coating her tongue paired with the faintest tinge of iron.
Was that blood? It didn’t taste like anything she had ever experienced, blood usually tasted like bitter iron, with an almost earthy tinge. Coating the back of her throat in a vicious sludge that refused to leave.
What graced her taste buds was that she could only imagine what moonlight tasted like. Flowing down to her stomach like liquid light radiating a cooling almost numbing feeling.
Fabric rustled, and the gentle spark of Lauma’s elemental power flickered to life. The world behind Nefer’s eyes glowed faintly green-white. Slowly she could sense strength seeping back into her, just enough for her knees to not collapse on her.
Basking in that light, she heard Lauma’s voice, soft but chiding. “Miss Nefer…it’s not like you to lose your composure. That was the most reckless thing I’ve ever seen you do.”
Sucking in a pained breath, she winced, “Reckless how? The situation was critical, our lives were at stake. We had to do something.
“Even so…” Lauma sighed, “Okay. I guess you're right. Under the circumstances, it was a wise decision, you traded your eyes for… an incredible victory. In business terms, I suppose that’s a huge return on investment.”
Furrowing her brow, Nefer wanted to snort at that comment. “I’d be hard pressed to argue otherwise.”
Lauma ignored her comment, “Still, I don’t like this outcome, and I don’t want you to lose your sight for good. People suffer when they make sacrifices they shouldn’t have to make. Whether that means faith, strength…or in this case, your ability to even see.”
The faint glow shifted as Lauma stood, her energy ebbing from the air like mist dispersing as she moved from kneeling to standing. “I had hoped you would win without sacrificing so much as a single hair on your head.”
Releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, Nefer almost wanted to reach out for more of that healing glow, to just have that moment of comfort for a little longer.
Instead, she said “thank you, really.”
She could almost sense the smile on Lauma’s face as she said that. “All done. Don’t try to open your eyes just yet. We’ll see how you’re doing in a couple of days. Until then, please follow your recovery plan to the letter.”
Recovery plan…? How typical of the moonchanter. Before she could finish that thought, Lauma continued, “I’ll send full details through Jahoda. For now, just get yourself home, relax, and rest.”
Nefer tried to keep following the thread of conversation afterwards, with Lauma’s grand speech, and Columbina’s thanks. But, against her wishes, her head sank, thoughts unmoored.
Slowly, the warmth in her body began to fade as Jahoda’s steady hands caught her, guiding her weight onto her shoulder before she could collapse completely. Trying to scrub the blood off, her hands were pushed away as Jahoda scolded her.
She didn’t need coddling, but for today, she would let Jahoda worry. Carefully navigating the ground before her, her world still darkened, Jahoda whispered to her any obstacles in her way.
Nefer couldn’t help but smirk, even if her sight was taken from her, that bastard Rerir was dealt with for now. This little setback was temporary, she had come out on top just like all those years ago with those two tribes that had wiped out her people.
The trek home blurred into a mix of exhaustion and distant noise. Nefer didn’t speak much, what was left to say? She desperately wanted to collapse in her own bed. By the time Jahoda eased her through the door, Nefer’s legs trembled from the effort of staying upright.
At the door, she fumbled with the keys longer than she’d like to admit. Jahoda reached over, twisting them into the lock before pushing the door open until it swung open with a creak.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of burnt resin and the cooling ashes of the days earlier incense. The space was just as she had left it, books stacked in even columns, tasteful potted plants, and various ornamentals.
She was home.
“Meow?” She heard Ashru as he wound himself around her feet. Smiling, she bent low enough to stroke his soft head before stumbling towards her bedroom.
Jahoda followed closely, helping her navigate towards her bed and removing layers of clothing. She was too tired to even consider thoughts about professionalism right now.
Finally climbing into her bed, Jahoda tugged her blanket up to her shoulders with a cautious gentleness. Standing by her side, she fidgeted, even with her limited sight she could sense it.
“Do…do you need anything else? Water? Food?” Jahoda asked, the vibration of her tapping boot ticking against the hardwood of her floor like a metronome.
“You’ve done enough,” she said hoarsely, but not unkindly. “Go home, Jahoda. Get some rest.”
Jahoda frowned. “You shouldn’t be alone—”
“This is not a duty that is listed in your contract.” The words slipped out before Nefer could temper them, more brittle than she intended. Her expression softened a heartbeat later. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
For a moment Jahoda looked like she might argue again. Then she simply nodded, lips pressed tight, and let herself out. The latch clicked softly behind her.
Leaning back into her pillows, Nefer sat there in the dim light taking a moment to listen to her breathing. The ache in her eyes beat in time with her pulse, a reminder that she while hurt was still alive.
Nefer felt the warmth of the morning before she heard the knock. The faint rise in the warming air, the brush of sunlight pressing against her shuttered lids. She turned her head toward the sound, pulse quickening as the knock came again.
“Jahoda?” Her voice rasped, dry and unsteady. There was no answer. Only the dull chattering of birds outside, their songs flattened to sound and nothing more.
A set of claws dug into her head as Ashru held onto her from his place on top of her pillow. Hissing, she managed to shake him off. Angrily hissing back at her, he leaped off his perch and landed on the floor with a light thud. He’s soft paws padding off to wherever he deigns next.
Her fingers found the edge of her blanket, tracing the worn weave until she managed to throw a leg out of bed. Reaching out, she carefully felt for her bedside table before feeling her way along the wall towards her door.
Creeping slowly through the crematorium halls, she noticed the smooth grain of the wood beneath her bare feet, the faint echo of her own breathing as she managed to make it to the front door. Following more memory than direction.
Fumbling, she managed to unlock the door. “Come in,” she huffed, her voice still low with sleepiness. Turning back around she headed toward the direction that she knew her coffee table was. If she was going to be up at this hour she needed caffeine.
The door creaked despite all the oil she used on its hinges, and a familiar voice slipped through. Gentle as the sea under starlight. “It’s me. Lauma.”
Nefer’s breath caught in her throat. Lauma not Jahoda. Now that was a surprise, the moonchanter didn’t often make house calls. What could she possibly want right now? Much less disregard business hours.
“What brings you to my humble abode, moonchanter?” she asked, tone edging toward annoyance. “Didn’t you say you’d send the recovery plan through Jahoda?”
Nefer felt around for her coffee pot, fingers wrapping around its handle, her usual golden claws notably absent from the lack of clacking against the metal.
The soft padding of feet against her floorboards gave away Lauma’s position, “I was worried for you last night. I couldn’t sleep well, so I came when I couldn’t bear to wait any longer.”
Cool hands settled over her own, firmly guiding her hand toward the sink she had been searching for. The contact was brief but steady, grounding and disarming all at once.
“Let me help,” Lauma spoke in her ear, breath brushing against the sensitive nerves there. Too close. Far too close for comfort.
Nefer stiffened, the breath catching in her throat as the warmth of Lauma’s body pressed lightly against her back. A pair of large breasts pressed into her as the scent of what smelled like crushed moonfall silver wafted off the long hair that tickled her exposed shoulders.
Flushing slightly, Nefer shook it off. The frost moon scion was always overly helpful and didn’t always notice personal space.
She forced a light cough, brushing it off. “You don’t have to hover.”
“I know,” Lauma said, unbothered by the proximity, “but it makes me feel better.” Failing to catch the hint to move back.
Continuing to prepare her coffee, the pot began to hiss as the water boiled, and only then did Lauma step back. The squeak of her icebox opening made her look up from her place at the counter where she had started sipping her drink.
Really though, why was Lauma here? She didn’t seem like the type to just suddenly appear yet here she was. “I didn’t realize house calls were part of your divine portfolio,” Nefer said.
The familiar clatter of dishes being taken from her cupboards filled her kitchen, unhurried as if Lauma had done this a hundred times before. “It is when it’s regarding a patient,” Lauma replied. “You can grumble and whine all you want, but I will make sure you heal to the best of my abilities.”
Soon, the comforting smell of cinnamon and spiced oats filled her nose. Her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl. In the back of her mind she asked herself if Ashru had food in his dish. He did.
Lauma hummed from where she was working over the stove, another clank and a bowl of the porridge the deer had made found itself in front of her.
Inhaling the aroma, Nefer felt around for her spoon before helping herself to her prepared breakfast. The oats were still steaming, laced with the same methodical warmth that seemed to cling to everything Luama touched.
For a moment, she wanted to speak. To ask why Lauma was really here, why she hadn’t just sent Jahoda like she’d promised. But when she opened her mouth, all that came out was a quiet, almost grudging: “…Thank you.” She seemed to be saying that a lot lately.
The moonchanter didn’t reply right away. Only the faintest smile entered her voice as she said, “Eat before it cools.”
Obeying, she ate in silence, the slow clink of the spoon the only sound between them. The oats were warm and soft, sweetened with something she couldn’t quite place.
There were familiar spices, no doubt, from her spice cabinet, but that twist kept throwing her off. It was different from how she usually prepared it, yet it was a nice change.
The silence stretched until it felt like Lauma was watching her. Not with curiosity, but something else. Concern, maybe. Pity. Nefer hated both.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, moving her porridge back and forth in her bowl with her spoon.
“I’m not looking,” Lauma corrected mildly. “I’m assessing.”
Actually, scoffing this time, she tilted her head. “Is that supposed to sound better?”
“It’s supposed to sound honest.” Something told her that Lauma had just rolled her eyes at her. She wanted to seethe, the utter disrespect this woman had for her right now. .
The faint scrape of a chair followed. Lauma moved closer. Nefer could feel it, the subtle chill that always accompanied her presence, the scent of moonlight and frost clinging to her robes.
“I want to check your eyes,” Lauma said quietly.
Brushing her hand off, Nefer retorted “I said I’m fine.”
“And I said I’m checking anyway.”
Before Nefer could protest, Lauma’s hands were already cupping her face. Carefully, reverent almost, her thumbs resting just beneath Nefer’s eyes. The contact was so light it made her pulse skip.
“Breathe,” Lauma assured. “It won’t hurt this time.”
A soft hum followed, rising from Lauma’s throat. The sound of power gathering, spreading like ripples through water. It brushed against Nefer’s skin, cool and electric as the healing light the moonchanter had used previously appeared.
It wasn’t as bright, not like last time. It was softer, warmer, a silvery hue that sank beneath her skin unlike the harsher greens of her own vision. The pain receded once more, the throbbing behind her eyes easing into something more manageable.
“There, you're welcome to try and open them now.” Lauma said. “Take all the time you need.”
Nefer hesitated, then slowly cracked open a singular eye then the other. The world rushed in, outlines sharpening, and details forming.
There was something wrong though. The color. It was gone. The warm glow of the room, the soft gold of her jewelry, the greens and purples of her collection of house plants, all of it had been leeched away.
Everything had been cast into shades of greys and monochrome. Worse, the closer she got to objects the more they seemed to blur like ripples across a river.
Lauma’s voice was attentive. “What do you see?”
“Everything. But it’s all—” Nefer broke off, swallowing. “Black and white.”
Lauma didn’t speak right away. Nefer could feel her studying her again. Weighing her options, the possibilities. Finally, she offered, “It may be a partial recovery. Your vision might still come back in time.”
“Might.” Nefer echoed her, “That’s…comforting.”
“It’s more than you had yesterday.” Lauma reminded her.
Her jaw tightened. “…I suppose.”
Lauma’s hands dropped from her face, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Healing is a process, you must remember that. You may or may not ever get your full sight back.”
Something in her tone; that placating certainty, made Nefer want to argue, to say she wasn’t some fragile thing that needed reassurance. But the words wouldn’t come.
The soft clanking of Lauma’s spoon clanking against her teacup broke through the silence. Absently, Nefer wondered when the moonchanter had made tea for herself.
From the hallway came rabid pounding boots across her floorboards. A wild burst of energy slammed into the room. Jahoda, at last, arrived far too late to witness any of this.
When she appeared in the doorway, she froze mid-step, taking in the sight: her usually composed employer sitting in her nightshirt, the moonchanter leaning far too close, the faint glow of magic still dissipating between them.
Jahoda’s eyebrow twitched upward. Her thoughts written plainly on her face, Should I… come back later? Wisely she kept her mouth shut.
Lauma didn’t even flinch, addressing her unspoken question. “No need. We’re just finishing breakfast.”
Nefer sighed, lifting her spoon again to point it at her little mouse. “You’re late Jahoda, I should be deducting from your paycheck because of this.”
The girl let out a small eep, frantically clasping her hands in a prayer as she began to beg. “Please don’t fire me boss! Won’t happen again.”
Waving her off, Nefer closed her eyes again as the strain began to seep into them. “I’m feeling nice today, especially after yesterday's battle. I’ll let it slide today.”
“Thank you boss! Thank you!” Jahoda nearly wept, “is there anything you need? Owl and some of the other operatives left some messages to be reviewed.”
“Later,” Nefer dismissed, sinking back against the cushions. The fight had left a hollow ache in her chest, and now even thinking about work made her want to yowl in protest.
Lauma’s hand brushed her shoulder briefly, steadying her as she swayed. “You should rest a little longer before trying to work.”
Nefer tilted her head toward her, expression hidden behind dark lashes. “Are you always this nagging when it comes to your patients?”
A small, knowing smile greeted her when she glanced through the sliver of vision she retained. “Only the ones too stubborn to listen.”
Jahoda’s gaze flickered between the two of them, gears spinning in her head, but she didn’t say anything. Fidgeting nervously, she edged towards the door.
Darting out the door again, she called behind her “If you don’t need me right now…I’m going to go run some of the errands that need to be done…you know how to contact me if you need anything!”
Across from her, Lauma chuckled, setting her teacup down on the table. “Jahoda is a lovely girl.”
Pressing a finger into her temple, Nefer had to agree with that statement. Jahoda was one of a kind. She couldn’t just push anyone around and the girl was the perfect balance of competence and foolishness.
“I’ll stop by later today to check in on you before the after party Varka is throwing at the Flagship.” Lauma informed her as she began to gather the dishes and clean them. “I also stopped by today to extend his invitation to you.”
Furrowing her brow, Nefer did a poor job masking her distaste. This was not how she liked to receive her information but it was kind of the deer woman to do Varka a favor.
Lazing further into her couch, Nefer decided “Very well, tell Varka that I will attend. He still owes me three million more.”
Lauma smiled, drying the dishes and returning them to the cupboards. “Lovely, I’ll see you in a few hours then. Take care not to strain your eyes before then.”
With a flick of her hand, Nefer avoided responding. Right before the door closed, she caught a glimpse of the other woman’s deer form bounding away in a flash of dendro.
She did have to wonder if those antlers were heavier when Lauma entered her deer form. Her own headdress was heavy, and it wasn’t even attached to her own head.
Ashru didn’t give her a moment to ponder it when he leaped into her lap without giving her a warning. Eyes flying open she relaxed when she saw who it was.
Reclosing them, she settled into her peace and quiet while she let the silky smooth fur of Ashru soothe her stress levels.
Before long loud purrs enveloped her and the comforting warmth seeping into her stomach where he got to work kneading bread into her exposed flesh.
Nefer must have fallen asleep again when the sound of knocking woke her up again. Covering her eyes with her arm, she debated getting up at all.
The door swung open and the familiar scent arrived before the silhouette did: a faint metallic tang like crushed moonfall and frost.
“I’m starting to think you stole the keys to the building with the amount of times you’ve burst in.” She observed, not even opening her eyes to see who it was.
She didn’t need to. Lauma moved with that deerlike lightness she always had, the soft rhythm of feet and the hollow clack of hooves that persisted whether she wore human skin or not.
Lauma sat down across from her, “I don’t need keys if the doors are unlocked. Jahoda also told me the backup code.”
Nefer sucked in a breath, feeling for the scrape of fabric at her hip where the blanket gathered. Mentally cursing Jahoda, she made a note to scold the girl about security later. “I take it that it’s nearly time to go to the party?”
“That is correct, I’m going to check your eyes one more time.” Lauma’s hands found Nefer’s face before she could decide she didn’t want them there, palms warm and gentle at the temples.
Cast in the healing glow again, Nefer sighed, letting it do what it would, then opened her eyes to take the other woman in. Lauma’s outfit was still the typical frost-moon scion garb, but it was much skimpier and more decorative, personal trinkets threaded through the fabric.
Lauma opened her own eyes suddenly and Nefer’s heart stuttered. Not with fear but with an odd, unmoored recognition. Those weren’t ordinary eyes, deep pools of magenta ringed by the blue sky of Nod Krai. Each eye framed by pretty long lashes dusted in the same pale blue and pink.
Eyes crinkling kindly, Lauma clasped their hands together with her own. “Has color returned to you?”
Nefer ripped her gaze away from Lauma’s irises and scanned the room. Only to find herself disappointed with what she saw. The world remained in grayscale: the kettle’s steam a silver ghost, the table a slab of shadow. The only color left in the room was the bloom of Lauma’s eyes.
She lied. “Everything’s still in black and white.” She was not telling the moonchanter that the only color she could see right now was her beautiful dusky eyes. She had standards to uphold.
Lauma’s face fell, but she worked to put on a professional face again. “Maybe it will take a few more sessions, but for now…let’s get you off this couch and ready for the party.”
Looking down at her current outfit, Nefer had half the mind to snap at the deer woman for commenting on her dressage. She had just woken from a nap, she was allowed to be a little disheveled.
It irked her though that the moonchanter was seeing her like this. Untidy, not the calm and collected person she presented to the world.
Standing she stalked into her bedroom and got to work in dressing herself. Scrubbing her face and reapplying her makeup, she built up her battle armor. By the time she exited the bathroom she felt more like herself.
Lauma clapped her hands together, “There’s the Miss Nefer I recognize.”
Nefer muttered, “A moment of weakness,” and tossed a shawl around her shoulders before moving toward the flagship.
Lauma followed, not crowding but never far, the two walking in a quiet tandem until they reached the hall that led to the gathering. Opening the door for the other woman, Nefer waited for Lauma to step through.
A loud boisterous voice boomed from across the room as Varka spotted them. “Lauma! Nefer! Am I glad to see you two make it tonight!”
Wanting to wince at the sheer volume the grandmaster was speaking at, Nefer pasted on the practiced smile that had gotten her through worse. “Varka. I see your enthusiasm is still as bright as ever. You could fill up an entire cheer squad by yourself.”
He laughed and clapped her back with a force that made her shoulder smart. “If your witty tongue is still working then you must be doing alright.” He beamed like a man entirely without shadow.
Lauma shot a worried glance toward Nefer, but Varka was already distracted and Nefer slid away to her usual table.
Summoning the bartender, she ordered herself a spirit and began to prepare herself. She was officially back in business, physically she was fine now. Sight wise she was just seeing in different colors, she could do this.
The room was a blur in grayscale, but the way people moved and the music’s pulse were enough to place them. Sounds marked faces: a laugh that was like glass, a cough with too much smoke. She could tell who came close by the way footsteps shifted in tone.
Feeling her eyes smart, she closed them and breathed through the pain. Perhaps she should ask for another session in a bit to take off the edge.
It didn’t take long after her drink came out for a high pitched voice to herald the arrival of the traveler.
“Nefer!” Paimon cried out, happily waving at her.
“Traveler…Paimon, are you doing well?” she asked, clawed hands resting on the table’s wooden edge.
The traveler responded pleasantly, “Much better. Thanks to a good rest. You're looking well too.”
Leaning back in her seat, Nefer opened her eyes, getting a full view of the two well rested visitors. “Turns out that moonchanter had some real talent, after all, my eyes were mostly recovered after just a day of rest. I can actually open them again now.”
Jahoda ducked into the periphery like a small, anxious comet. “Yeah, but you gotta be careful…Lauma says not to strain your eyes while you're still healing.”
Lauma this, Lauma said that. Lauma, Lauma. She had heard the other woman’s name enough to write a book. “Yes, thank you. I’m well aware.” She tone clipped, a knife sheathed in courtesy.
“Jahoda, could I borrow you for a moment. I could do with an extra pair of hands.” Lauma requested, seemingly freed from Varka’s attention.
Jahoda blinked twice, eyes bright with the spark of usefulness. “Oh, sure! Coming!”
Returning back to conversation and continued, “Did you hear that!? I’ve gotta go help Lauma for a second—you guys chat amongst yourselves. I’ll grab us some drinks on the way back. Paimon, you still like ‘em sweet’?
Paimon danced in the air, “You bet! Hehe, make it extra sweet. ‘Cause’ Paimon earned it.”
Hand on her hips, Jahoda walked away. “Sure thing!”
“Hmm…” Nefer watched Jahoda go, an idle curl of curiosity in her chest as she leaned back. The traveler caught the motion. “What’s on your mind?”
She tossed the thought out light and testy. “The Rächer of Solmari. Kind of a snake, don’t you think?”
The traveler mulled, “Hmmm…more of a wolf in my mind.”
They must be thinking of the chess pieces the board had generated when they had been searching through Rerir’s memories.
She disagreed though, shaking her head slightly, claws catching faintly on wood. “No, definitely a snake. A poisonous one, who spewed his venomous hatred everywhere. Anyone who seeks revenge out of hatred for other people has become a snake. That’s something my dad used to say.”
The traveler shrugged, “I guess he didn’t like seeing people go down the path of vengeance.”
“Perhaps, I’m sure it sounds like a very wise and open-hearted perspective to your ears.” She set her jaw, , “But me? I think hatred is a perfectly justifiable emotion. What else is left when everything you depend on in life gets stripped away? Something's gotta fuel that drive to keep on living.”
Love didn’t feed her when she was starving and it didn’t get her to where she was now. Friendships were even catalysts for something to go wrong eventually.
“If you're worried about me, you can nip that in the bud. I’m not someone who gets stuck in the past.”
.
.
.
“For example, when something great falls in my lap, I don’t go sharing the news around. Stops other people trying to steal it from me”
A snort from Jahoda and a quick, surprised giggle from Luama made Nefer glance back, catching them mid-laughter. Luama’s shocked cover was almost as soft as the smile that followed.
The traveler cocked an eyebrow, pointing out, “I have a feeling some people over there may have overheard that…”
Nefer tapped a claw on the table, deliberately unconcerned. “So be it, they have sharp ears…I can’t keep anything from them.”
Looking between her and the two laughing women behind him. The traveler watched her, reading the shift. “Is that your way of saying you’ve warmed up to them then?”
Nefer looked up slowly. “Oh, is that what it looks like?”
He nodded, “What it looks like is, you're starting to see us as your friends.”
Nefer picked at her claws, the smallest, private motion she could manage in a room full of eyes. “Well… you all know my past now, and I can’t simply eliminate everyone who knows too much. So I guess I just have to put up with you…for the sake of the foreseeable future, at least.”
The traveler looked at her for a moment, thoughts playing through their head but they didn’t comment. Bidding their goodbyes and heading over towards Varka and the rest of the Knights of Favonius.
Sighing, Nefer let her eyes close once more. She really wanted Lauma’s magic touch right now. That might have been the longest she had kept them open in the past day or two.
“Care for some company?” Lauma breezed in, setting down her own drink as she slid into the booth across from her.
Speak of her and she shall appear, Nefer thought. “If you'd be willing to lend some attention to your patient, I suppose you could join.”
Laughing, Lauma reached over the table to place her hands lightly on her face like all the other times. Her scent filled her nose pleasantly and she could feel the neatly trimmed nails she had.
It didn’t take long for the healing light to sooth the ache behind her eyes much to her relief. “You should have told me your eyes were bothering you earlier…” Lauma pouted as she removed her hands.
“The conversation required my attention, it hasn’t even been an hour since our last session.” Nefer huffed, she was not weak.
Lauma claimed her hand, twining their fingers together. “But still…I don’t want to see you in pain.”
Absorbing the other woman’s warmth, Nefer didn’t pull away. “Really, it’s fine. And you're here now, right?”
The deer woman made a happy sound in her throat, “Indeed I am.”
Nefer couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly when Lauma and Jahoda had become indispensable to her.
It might have been the day Luama had insisted on caring for her after she’d been blinded or maybe it was the day she’d found Jahoda half-frozen on the roadside and offered to take her in for a night.
It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement. One night became a week, a week became routine, and somehow Jahoda was now listed on the payroll as her assistant.
Luama though, was an entirely different puzzle to be solved. After the after party for the battle with Rerir, the Moonchanter had taken to visiting more often.
She called them healing sessions for Nefer’s eyes, but the sessions had a way of turning into something far too domestic for Nefer’s comfort.
If Luama wasn’t bringing her neatly packed lunches from the Frostmoon Scions, she was reorganizing her filing system or watering the plants that Nefer didn’t remember owning.
She insisted Jahoda could do all that, but Luama was as immovable as marble. “Healing requires a peaceful environment,” she’d say, all serene wisdom and soft smiles.
A peaceful environment apparently meant rearranging her office furniture, dusting her shelves, and humming while she did it.
The woman had become a constant presence, one that was calming, unbothered, haunting her schedule with the patience of someone who had decided that being an inconvenience was beneficial to her.
And no matter how many healing sessions they did, Nefer still failed to see any color, the world stubbornly remaining monochrome. Except, of course, for the bright rings of magenta and blues of Luama’s irises.
It was infuriating that out of all things to have color it had to be on this woman who wouldn’t leave her alone. Perhaps she was greedy, but every time she caught a glimpse of those colors she wanted to look a little longer.
Right now, though, she had a problem.
Luama and Jahoda separately were manageable, a handful in their own right, but put the two together? They were thick as thieves when they could agree on a common goal. As for what that common goal was, Nefer wasn’t quite sure what it was right now.
She was the intelligence network of Nod-Krai. The premier information broker of the Northern Intelligence Division and somehow her two closest associates were keeping a secret under her nose.
They had been whispering. Looking at her when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. Sharing that conspiratorial sparkle that set every one of Nefer’s instincts on edge.
They were plotting something and she didn’t like it. An ambush of some sort. Probably emotional.
She could use the chess set to find out. One ritual, one glance, and she’d know what the Moonchanter was planning. But something in her, maybe it was pride, curiosity, or maybe that small ache she refused to name told her not to.
No. She’d wait. Let Luama play her little game. Nefer wanted to see how this would unfold.
From her desk, Nefer watched the two whispering by the window. Jahoda was nearly vibrating in place and Luama’s ear twitched in amusement. Yes, something was definitely up.
Best to get it over with. “Whatever you’re scheming,” she said, voice deceptively cool and collected, “I expect a full report on my desk by tomorrow morning.”
Jahoda coughed into her hand. “Scheming? Us? Never. I was just—uh—asking if Luama thought the weather was… nice.”
Luama, looking like a literal deer in headlights, added, “I told her it was radiant. A good day for… surprises.”
Nefer’s eyes narrowed. “Radiant. How poetic. I’ll remember that when you two are standing in the rain explaining yourselves.”
That earned her a laugh from Jahoda and a knowing smile from Luama. The kind that made her pulse flicker faster than she’d admit.
She should have been annoyed. She was annoyed at least, that’s what she told herself as Luama gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her collar later that evening before she left to return home.
“Still seeing in black and white?” Luama asked, her voice soft, light pooling at her fingertips like moonlight made tangible.
“Mostly,” Nefer murmured, trying not to focus on how warm that touch felt. “But I think I can manage without colors for a while.”
Luama tilted her head, smiling in that infuriatingly serene way. Gathering dendro into her hands, she set down a small glowing orb before her. “Then I’ll make sure your world has light instead.”
Nefer almost rolled her eyes, almost. Instead, she turned away, busying herself with cleaning her catalyst. It had so many angles and edges that she required small tools to clean it properly.
“The hour is getting late, it would do you good to head out before it gets too dark out.” She chided, motioning for Lauma to head out. Nevertheless she still pocketed the orb.
Luama smiled like she knew something Nefer didn’t. “Good night, Miss Nefer.” Waving at Jahoda as she passed, the door slid closed with a soft hiss.
When the door closed behind her, Jahoda spoke up from the other end of the office. “So, Boss,” she said casually, “what are you planning on doing for your anniversary?”
Nefer froze mid-step on her way back to her desk. “…Anniversery?”
“Yeah? You and Luama’s anniversary. You’ve been together for a year now.” Jahoda commented, carrying a stack of books back to the shelves.
They were what now? Since when has Luama and her been together? This was certainly the first time she had heard about this.
Jahoda started placing the books back where they belonged, “Don’t tell me you forgot? Luama marked it on your calendar a few days ago.”
Nefer pulled out her planner, and stared at it long after Jahoda’s footsteps faded down the hall. Anniversary. Written in neat, unfamiliar handwriting. Luama’s handwriting.
Sinking into her chair, she scrapped her brain in effort to figure out what could have caused Jahoda to think she and Luama were together?
Looking around her office, she started to notice that a dusky blue had started to seep into the space. She knew with certainty that the shift had started with what had seemed like harmless trinkets.
A carved wooden deer perched on the edge of her desk, so meticulously made that its hooves looked mid-step. She didn’t remember buying it. But she did remember Luama handing it to her after some long night of paperwork. “Something to watch over you when I’m not here.”
On the shelves sat the potted frostvine that never seemed to wilt, its silver-blue leaves faintly luminescent in the dark. Luama had said it thrived in moonlight, then installed a small light crystal to make sure it would “never feel lonely.”
There was also the woven rug by the window, a pale blue, hand-dyed, and soft enough for hooves.
Nefer had thought it decorative. Then she’d realized Lauma often sat there in her deer form, antlers brushing the window frame while she read aloud whatever book Nefer was pretending not to be interested in.
And of course, the faint, lingering scent that never left her office anymore. That crushed moonfall silver and frostpetal bloom. Luama’s scent. Embedded into the very fabric of her workspace like some persistent pheromone.
With the amount of time the other woman spent here it was natural for some of her belongings and gifts to start appearing. She had even gotten Luama some presents of her own in return.
The moonchanter loved it when she presented her with a statue of Ashru carved from the moonfall silver. She had taken the time to infuse it with her own dendro so that the eyes glowed.
She’d told herself it was gratitude for the healing work, nothing more. A token of professional courtesy at best.
More often than not she was also the one paying for the deer's meals when they went out to eat. If Luama had her way she would have used up her pitiful stipend, but as her friend she didn’t mind helping pay for meals.
She glanced over at her windowsill, a teacup rimmed in silver instead of gold. Luama’s favorite cup, still half steeped with the tea she had been drinking earlier.
Her gaze drifted to Ashru, curled up on the rug, tail flicking lazily. The traitor purred when she said Luama’s name, for stars’ sake. He’d even started refusing to eat unless she was present.
Nefer rubbed her temples. “Wonderful. Even my cat’s been compromised.”
She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling as the truth assembled itself piece by piece. All those simple meals she didn’t even think about twice compounding into weekly rituals.
The late night visits that always happened to coincide with the end of her workday. Or the small notes tucked in between reports reminding her to eat.
Jahoda was just pointing out the obvious at this point. It did look like they had gotten together at some point.
A laugh escaped her, half disbelief, half resignation. “So this is what it looks like when I’ve been duped,” she muttered.
Her world might still be in black and white, but somehow it had filled with color again, all in shades of Luama.
She pressed her thumb to the edge of her desk, feeling the smooth grain, and tried — really tried — to convince herself that this didn’t mean anything. That this wasn’t some kind of creeping attachment.
But then her gaze fell on the orb Luama had left her. It was still glowing faintly from her pocket where she’d tucked it earlier. A sphere of silver light, gentle and constant, like a heartbeat.
Nefer turned it over in her hands, watching the faint warmth spill across her fingers. As if it could sense her attention, the orb began to unravel, curling in the shape of a familiar shape.
She had seen Luama playing with deer when she was waiting for something. When she kneeled in the air and lathered her attention on the conjured animal.
This one was a little younger than the ones Luama usually conjured, a baby really. The fawn leapt a few times before trying to nuzzle her hand. Relenting, she gently petted the animal before it dissipated.
They would need to talk eventually, but for now. It didn’t hurt to celebrate their friendship. Now the issue was enacting her own plan without Luama figuring it out. Jahoda would be helping her. Payback for working behind her back.
“Jahoda,” she called, once the girl scurried close enough to hear.
“Yes, boss?”
“You’re helping Lauma set up for the evening, aren’t you?”
Her little mouse froze mid-step. “…Um.”
“I thought so.” Nefer tapped her fingers against the arm of her chair. “I’ll allow it. But fetch me my ledger, the one with the mirror sigil on the cover.”
Jahoda blinked, uncertain whether she was being trapped. “What for?”
“I intend to be an excellent hostess,” Nefer said lightly. “If my moonchanter insists on a celebration, I can hardly appear unprepared.”
Nefer wasn’t about to let herself be out-maneuvered. If Lauma wanted to play at surprises, she would meet her there.
By the time the day of the so-called “anniversary” arrived, Nefer had resigned herself to simply going along with whatever scheme Lauma had concocted.
There was no sense in overcomplicating things and if the moonchanter wanted an evening of sentiment, then fine. Nefer would make sure it was executed properly.
That, of course, meant she was in charge of the venue.
Jahoda, poor thing, had been running back and forth since dawn under Nefer’s direction, hauling crates, blankets, lamps, and dishes down to the stretch of sand she’d selected for the evening.
Ashru contributed absolutely nothing as was his right, choosing instead to curl up on a sun-warmed rock nearby, tail twitching lazily as he watched the humans work.
“Lazy beast,” Nefer scolded him under her breath but smiled, adjusting one of the slow-burning oil lamps.
The scent, faintly spiced and tinged with sandalwood, drifted through the sea breeze. It was familiar and grounding. It reminded her a bit of the akademia, incense burning long into the late hours when studying. She hadn’t realized she missed that smell until now.
She stepped back, surveying her arrangement with a discerning eye. The woven blanket was centered, anchored by a low table scattered with cushions.
The phonograph was positioned so the tide wouldn’t drown out the music. Even the angle of the lamps was deliberate, each one forming a soft circle of light, like fireflies caught in glass.
And yet, she frowned. Something was off. The symmetry wasn’t quite right, or perhaps the shadows were too harsh. She crouched to shift one lamp an inch to the left. Then another. Then back again.
Jahoda appeared at her side, sweating and carrying yet another crate. “Boss, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were… nervous?”
Nefer shot her a look scathing enough to make the girl wince. “Precision is not nervousness. I prefer my surroundings to be orderly.”
“Sure, sure. Totally not nervous,” Jahoda said, setting the crate down with a thud. “You know, most people wouldn’t redecorate the entire beach for an event they didn’t know about two days ago.”
“If it’s on the calendar, then I must perform to the best of my ability,” Nefer corrected coolly. “It’s an operation of convenience. Luama wanted to celebrate, so I’m merely providing logistics.”
Jahoda opened her mouth like she wanted to protest, then closed it again. “…Right.”
When the last lamp was finally lit, the flickering halos of light reflected faintly against the sea’s surface, each one swaying like a captive star. Nefer allowed herself a small breath, the tension in her shoulders easing as she surveyed the scene.
Perfect. Or close enough. She might not have known what Luama’s plan was, but at least the stage was worthy of it.
Ashru yawned from his perch, tail flicking as though to say finally.
“Don’t you start,” she said amused. “You’ve done absolutely nothing but shed fur and supervise.”
Still, when she looked out over the water and the sand cooling beneath her heels, the lamps burning steadily, she felt satisfaction rise in her chest. Albeit rushed, she was proud that she had put this all together on such a short notice.
Dismissing Jahoda, she instructed the girl to go assist Luama as planned. It was her job to make sure the moonchanter arrived on time.
By the time Luama appeared over the ridge, a woven basket cradled in her arms, Nefer was already standing to greet her. Her pulse gave an inexplicable flutter she quickly smothered.
“Happy anniversary, Luama,” she said, smiling lightly as she stepped forward to take the basket. “You look—” She caught herself before the word lovely escaped and cleared her throat. “—prepared.”
The moonchanter looked a bit flustered, ears twitching. “Oh, Nefer… this is beautiful. You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to,” Nefer interrupted smoothly, brushing off imaginary dust from her sleeve. “I wanted us to have a nice night, and I heard you were having issues thinking of a proper location to meet at.
Luama stared at her in surprise, but a light giggle spilled from her lips. The sound was blissfully soft and warm. Kneeling, the moonchanter began unpacking the basket, the air filling with the scent of baked bread and chilled fruit.
“Then I suppose I should be grateful for your interference,” she mused, arranging the plates with deliberate care.
Luama’s eyes lifted, catching hers for a moment too long. The reflection of the oil lamps shimmered in those strange magenta rings: the only color Nefer could still see.
She looked away first, focusing instead on the food, on the sound of the tide against the shore. It was… nice. It was different from the usual life she led, where no one knew her past, and she kept her secrets close to her chest.
And maybe later, when the evening was over and the wine was gone, she’d finally have to address the terms of whatever this was. This thing they had built between them. But for now? For now, she was content to let the moment unfold just as it was.