Nearly a full moon had passed since Neri’Va first met Rayven. She’d lost count of how many evenings she’d stolen away from her narrow chamber in the Temple of Quintra, slipping through the sleeping corridors, past the statue’s silent gaze, and out into the lamplit street. The routine had become second nature: cross the main road, keep her head down in case any villagers glanced her way, skirt along the inside of the town’s stone wall, and wait for the moment when the gate was unwatched or the guards distracted. She’d discovered a gap behind a pile of firewood where a novice priestess could slip out unseen. Once outside, she’d move quickly across the dew-damp field, the wall and its safety receding behind her, her lantern’s glow carefully muffled.
The night air was different beyond the boundaries of the village. Here the world felt both wider and wilder, the hush of the fields broken only by the chirr of insects or the rare bark of a fox. Sometimes, Neri’Va looked back at the small town, its windows warm and safe, and wondered what her sisters would say if they knew she kept such company with a night dweller.
With each meeting, Neri’Va’s conversations with Rayven grew a little less guarded. She brought what she could: bread, fruit, honey, little treats to share with Rayven and her hidden people. Sometimes she’d arrive to find a scrap of parchment tucked under a black stone by the well, a brief note in Rayven’s bold hand—‘Safe tonight. All quiet. Will see you at Denday rise.’ The anticipation of seeing Rayven—of hearing her laugh, or watching the way her dark blue eyes caught the moonlight—was enough to carry Neri’Va through even the longest days of temple duties.
She’d even broached the subject of opening trade between the villagers and the night dwellers, but Rayven was resolute. “Too dangerous,” she’d said, her tone clipped. “If they know we’re here, they’ll hunt us. It’s better to remain shadows, even if it means going without.”
Neri’Va didn’t argue, but the injustice gnawed at her. She saw, now, how the world was not divided neatly between Light and Dark, safety and danger, good and evil. There was only the living, hurting, hoping people in between.
One day, as late afternoon shadows stretched across the temple’s tiled floor, Neri’Va finished her chores with anxious fingers. She waited until the last bells of dusk, then slipped out with her basket, its contents carefully packed. The sky was a patchwork of gold and rose as she crossed the street, heart pounding. She reached the town’s wall and ducked through her secret gap, heart racing at every sound, then made her way across the wide field. She found herself glancing back at the town more often than usual—uneasy, though she couldn’t say why.
She hurried through the grass, past wildflowers and the last of the sun’s warmth, until she reached the forest’s edge. The woods felt quieter than usual, almost heavy with expectation. Denday’s blue face hovered low above the treetops, not yet fully risen, and the world glimmered with an uncanny light.
When she reached the clearing with the old well, Neri’Va paused. The place seemed empty, but as she drew closer, she realised she wasn’t alone. A man—human, by his shape and the scruff of wild, dark curls—stood at the well. He was leaning over it, peering into the depths, a bottle clutched loosely in his hand.
Neri’Va’s breath caught in her throat. She clutched her basket, hoping to pass unnoticed, but the man turned sharply, his eyes glinting. He looked her up and down, his lips curling into a crooked grin.
“Well, well, well… What do we have ‘ere? Are you lost, doll?”
She kept her voice even, hiding her fear. “Euhmm, no… I… was gathering some herbs.” She lifted her basket, showing the wildflowers and green leaves tucked among the food. “The forest has many good wild herbs.”
The man stepped closer, swaying a little. Even from several paces away, she could smell the alcohol on his breath. He took a long swig from the bottle, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning all the while.
“Right… Do you always wander the woods alone, ‘oney?” he asked, stepping closer still.
“I do not wander around this forest. I know my way well enough, I was simply gathering herbs,” Neri’Va replied, voice steady. She kept the basket between them like a shield.
“Come ‘ere. Let me see those… ‘erbs of yours.” The man’s tone was slurred, but his eyes were sharp.
Neri’Va hesitated, but moved a little closer, hoping to diffuse his suspicion. But as she approached, the man reached out suddenly, grabbing her arm with rough fingers.
“You are a pretty doll, aren’t you, out ‘ere all alone in the woods.” His breath was hot against her ear as he yanked her closer, then spun her around so she was trapped between him and the well.
She tried to step away, voice trembling now. “Please let go of my arm, sir. You are hurting me.”
He pressed his body against hers, grinning. “We are going to ‘ave some fun, you and I. It’s nice and quiet ‘ere. Lovely…”
His other hand clamped around her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “I am really in the mood for some fun right now.”
Neri’Va’s mind raced, panic rising. She tried to pull away, but he only squeezed tighter, the bottle clattering to the grass as he pressed closer.
Suddenly, a low, threatening growl shattered the stillness. “Get your filthy hands off of her!”
Both Neri’Va and the man jerked around, startled. A tall, imposing figure strode into the clearing—the night dweller herself. Rayven’s skin, deep purple in the dusk, seemed almost to shimmer, and her eyes blazed with cold blue fire. The man stared at her, wavering, but did not release Neri’Va.
“Are you deaf?” Rayven growled, each word a challenge.
Finally, the man let go. Neri’Va stumbled away, ducking around the well, seeking Rayven’s presence like a lifeline. Her arms shook; she hugged the basket to her chest.
Rayven gave her a brief, searching glance—assessing her for injury—before turning her full attention to the man. She squared her shoulders, towering over him, her every movement radiating silent menace. The man, for all his bluster, shrank before her.
“N… not another ssstep… D… Denday… scum…” he stammered, raising a shaking hand as if to ward her off.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Rayven said, voice low and dangerous. “It’s me, the terrible night dweller. Paladin of the goddess of Darkness. Cower before me, you snivelling piece of meat.”
The man tried to muster his courage, but his voice shook. “B… begone… Dark worshipping… Zealot… Or… or I’ll… I’ll…”
“Or you’ll what? Smite me with your divine Light?” Rayven mocked, taking another step forward. “Well go on then. I’m right here…”
She moved closer, step by deliberate step. “I’m waiting.” Another step. “Still waiting.”
The man was positively shaking like a leaf when Rayven took the last few steps towards him. He mumbled something incoherently as the Night dweller towered over him. Slowly she rose her hand and then even slower moved her finger to his shoulder to just ever slightly give him a poke: “Boo!”
The man broke. He squealed, dropping his bottle, and scrambled past Rayven, tripping over his own feet as he fled into the woods towards the town. Rayven watched him go with a snort of disgust, then turned back to the high elf.
She crossed the clearing, eyes scanning Neri’Va for injury. Gently, she brushed her hand along the arm where the man had grabbed her, searching for bruises. “Are you okay?” she asked, her tone softer now.
Neri’Va nodded, tears pricking at her eyes. “I am now,” she whispered. “And all because you happened to be close by. I… I’m not sure what would have happened if you weren’t…”
“I am.” Rayven’s jaw clenched. “Men like that are all the same. They only think about one thing when they see a pretty girl all alone in the woods. Other than that, any light worshipper should be scared to death of me. I am, after all, a Denday scum Dark worshipping zealot.”
Neri’Va shook her head. “They will come after you,” she warned, voice low.
“Their pitchforks won’t hurt me.” Rayven rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of tension in her posture. “Shouldn’t you be scared to death of me by now?”
“Should I?” Neri’Va’s concern was earnest. “But I’m serious Rayven. If he goes to the guards, or the temple…”
“Like I care.” Rayven’s voice was sharp. “I’m not afraid of a bunch of Light zealots.”
“Well maybe you should be. They can really hurt you since Quintra is still among us and… Denday isn’t.” Neri’Va hesitated, then added before she trailed off, her words twisting with fear for Rayven’s safety.
Rayven spun around, her eyes darkening. “And whose fault is that?”
Neri’Va looked down, guilt washing through her. “What I mean is that Light priests and paladins can really hurt you much easier than you could… I don’t want to see you get hurt. Please do not underestimate the Light.”
“You are underestimating the Dark!” Rayven scowled, turning away. “I am perfectly capable of taking on a few Light users. You know what, never mind! Why did I even bother coming here and saving you from that… that… creep!”
Rayven turned and strode away, vanishing into the shadows between the trees.
Neri’Va hurried after her, stumbling through the undergrowth. “Rayven, wait! That’s not what I meant! I know you are powerful, but you are also only just one woman.”
The Night dweller didn’t slow, her voice echoing through the trees. “Why don’t you go back to your Light worshippers’ town, novice Light priest! There is no place in this forest for your Light. You are not welcome here!”
Neri’Va didn’t stop following Rayven who ventured deeper into the forest still entering a part of it that she had never been too. Yet the novice light priestess kept following the night dweller further and further into the forest.
“Go back home Neri’Va, before you get lost again!” Rayven scowled as she steadily paced on deeper into the forest: “You don’t belong this deep into the forest, you wouldn’t last five minutes here on your own!”
Still, Neri’Va followed. “I’m not on my own, I’m with you. And I won’t stop following you until you talk to me.”
Rayven wheeled around, grabbing Neri’Va’s arm. “Fine, I’ll drag you back myself then. Don’t bother coming back! You can stay in that quaint little town of yours, I’m sure there are plenty of nice men there just waiting for a chance to throw themselves at you!”
“I don’t want any man to throw themselves at me,” Neri’Va said, trying to pull her arm away, but Rayven held tight. She began dragging Neri’Va back through the forest, her pace furious. Thunder rumbled overhead, then lightning tore the sky, startling them both.
“Whatever.” Rayven mumbled as she continues to drag Neri’Va further. Rain began to fall in thick, cold drops, quickly soaking through Neri’Va’s clothes.
The high elf shivered, trying to keep up. “Rayven please.”
Rayven glanced at her, then grumbled, “This way, hurry.” She led Neri’Va to a nearby cave, finally letting go of her arm once they were inside.
Rayven stood near the entrance, staring out at the torrent. Neri’Va waited, uncertain, then stepped closer.
“Rayven?” she said softly. “Why were you at the well? I mean, it wasn’t dark yet. I didn’t think you would be there. I don’t even know if you would be awake already.”
Rayven scoffed, not looking back. “I can go where I want to go, I don’t need your permission to be somewhere.”
“That’s not what I meant, I just…” Neri’Va started.
“I shouldn’t have come out, you mean? Just let that some guy cozy up to you!”
Neri’Va’s cheeks burned. “I don’t like some guy, Rayven. I don’t want any man to cozy up to me.”
Rayven’s voice was sharp, defensive. “Ooh right… men aren’t good enough for the novice Light priestess. How surprising!”
Neri’Va’s words burst out before she could stop them. “It’s because I like you, Rayven!” As soon as the words left her lips, she gasped and clapped her hands to her mouth, mortified.
Rayven turned, staring. She stepped up to Neri’Va, towering over her, but her voice was uncertain. “Have you lost your mind?” the Night dweller asked. Neri’Va could only shake her head, blushing furiously.
A slow smile spread across Rayven’s face. She lifted her hand, gently tipping Neri’Va’s chin up. “I’m a paladin of Denday.”
Neri’Va’s reply was barely a whisper. “That… doesn’t change how I feel…”
Rayven’s blue eyes sparkled. She leaned in and pressed her lips gently to Neri’Va’s, a kiss soft and brief, yet full of promise.