As Rayven gently kissed Neri’Va, the world beyond the cave seemed to vanish, replaced by the hush and wildness of the storm. The wind howled outside, lashing rain against stone, but within their small shelter, there was only warmth and trembling closeness. Neri’Va’s heart hammered beneath her novice robes, the soft press of Rayven’s lips making her forget the cold entirely.
She shyly answered the kiss, her lips moving against Rayven’s, uncertain but sincere. When the night dweller pulled back, Neri’Va found herself rising onto her toes, stretching the moment a little longer—clinging to the sensation like a secret.
The moment ended, but the heat lingered. Neri’Va blinked, a little dazed, and looked at the dark-skinned elf before her. Rayven’s deep purple skin shimmered in the cave’s gloom, her short wild blue hair damp. Neri’Va’s cheeks burned and her mouth fell open, breath catching in her throat. Rayven studied her, her blue eyes faintly glowing, then her lips curled into a knowing grin.
Slowly, Rayven’s hand slid along the waist of the pale-skinned high elf, sending a shiver down Neri’Va’s spine. Suddenly, Rayven pulled her closer, not roughly but with easy strength. Neri’Va gasped softly and looked up, her own purple eyes darting to Rayven’s lips, not daring to meet her gaze for long.
As the rain crashed outside, the world faded away. It was just this small cave—rough stone, moss, and two elves, light and dark, their worlds colliding in secret. Rayven pulled Neri’Va closer and, with a gentle grip, turned her around to face the cave wall.
Feeling no resistance Rayven guided Neri’Va until she was pressed between the night dweller and the cold stone. Yet she wasn’t afraid. Her nervousness was replaced by wonder and safety.
Rayven brushed her free hand across Neri’Va’s burning cheeks, her grin widening. The touch was gentle, almost reverent. The memory of the kiss lingered as the cave filled with their mingled breath.
Sliding her hand into Neri’Va’s neck, Rayven leaned in for another kiss. This time it was more passionate and longer than the one before. Neri’Va answered it eagerly, surrendering to the moment with openheartedness. She didn’t mind being pinned—quite the opposite. At this moment, she felt secure, as if nothing could reach her here. Safe in the arms of this muscular elven woman towering over her, this night dweller, this Paladin of Denday. She could stay here forever.
Reluctantly, Rayven pulled away, ending the kiss. She kept her hand around Neri’Va’s waist as her head turned toward the cave’s entrance. The pale-skinned elf followed her gaze, heart still racing, reality slowly seeping back in.
“It doesn’t look like the storm is going to stop any time soon.” Neri’Va said, her voice soft, breath still unsteady.
Rayven nodded. “This storm isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and night has also fallen. Better get comfortable, we might be here all night.”
Neri’Va looked back and gently brushed her hands along Rayven’s muscular arms, feeling the strength beneath deep purple skin. She smiled shyly, a little hesitant, a little bold. “Well, we just have to make the most out of this situation then I guess.”
Rayven looked at her and grinned. “Have you ever even spent a night in a cave without anything? There are no soft beds here, no blankets, no pillows and no comforts. Not even a fire, so no warmth and no light.”
“I will be all right, I’m with you.” Neri’Va said with a soft smile, her purple eyes shining with trust. “Tonight you can show me this part of your world. And maybe someday soon I can show you my world, pillows and all.”
The night dweller let go and turned her back toward Neri’Va, her broad silhouette dark against the shifting storm light. “I am not a part of your world, Neri’Va. I can never be a part of your world.” Rayven sighed, staring at the storm. The night was dark, rain pouring down, nearly leaving a blanket of water at the cave entrance.
“I am a part of your world.” Neri’Va replied, moving closer and pressing a gentle kiss on Rayven’s shoulder. She smiled and leaned her head against Rayven’s shoulder, watching the storm. “Without the Light there is just dark, endless dark that goes deeper and deeper until it devours everything and leaves nothing. Without the Light one cannot see how deep the dark goes.”
Rayven’s eyes turned sad for a moment before she looked back at Neri’Va. Her expression softened. She turned to face her and gently stroked Neri’Va’s cheek with her dark purple fingers. “Without the Dark, Light can never shine so brightly. It’s just blinding beyond control.”
“But even Denday berries need Light to grow.” Neri’Va said, grinning shyly, searching Rayven’s eyes for playfulness.
“Yes, but they need Dark to glow.” Rayven replied, gently bringing her other hand up to Neri’Va’s cheeks. Neri’Va closed her eyes, enjoying the touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
“See, both Light and Dark are needed. Without it there would have been no Denday Berries. Without them I would never have met you.” Neri’Va whispered, opening her eyes to smile at Rayven, then shyly looking away and blushing.
“It should be forbidden for a priestess of Light to pick Denday Berries.” Rayven said with a smirk, gently moving a hand to Neri’Va’s neck as she studied the pale-skinned elf.
Neri’Va blinked, a bit surprised. “Like forbidden fruit? I would still pick them, they are useful to us.”
“You would dare risk the wrath of a paladin of Denday?” Rayven asked, her eyes narrowing slightly, her voice more stern.
“Would I have to shine my Light to fend you off?” Neri’Va teasingly replied, her cheeks brightening with a blush.
“You will try and you will fail.” Rayven answered. Suddenly, she lowered her hand from Neri’Va’s neck, sliding her arm around her waist and pulling her against her chest again. “I am stronger than you.”
Neri’Va gasped, looking into Rayven’s eyes before blinking and shyly looking away, her hands resting on Rayven’s muscular arms. With a mischievous smile, Rayven let go, taking a few steps back and tilting her head. Neri’Va stood there, a bit confused, not quite understanding what just happened.
The night dweller’s gaze travelled over the frail high elf’s body, and she smirked. Tilting her head the other way, she seemed to size Neri’Va up: “Though I wouldn’t mind making you Light up in a different way.”
Neri’Va blinked, the blush returning to her cheeks as she looked at Rayven, confused. The night dweller moved closer, her smirk widening. Instinctively, Neri’Va stepped back, soon finding herself against the cave wall again.
Rayven raised her hand, gently stroking Neri’Va’s cheek, moving closer still. Smiling, she rested her hand at Neri’Va’s neck, pressing her body close, locking her in. “Yes, I most definitely would.”
Feeling no resistance, Rayven gently stroked her thumb across Neri’Va’s lips before closing the distance, pressing her lips to Neri’Va’s for a long, tender kiss. The kiss was answered shyly, Neri’Va’s cheeks burning even brighter. Rayven pulled away and grinned at the effect her tenderness had on the novice priestess. “Shining brightly indeed.”
Rayven stepped away and turned to the cave entrance. The storm was still raging, the night deep and wild. She turned again to see Neri’Va taking a step—and tripping over a rock. Rayven grinned and quickly caught the high elf: “I got you.”
Neri’Va blinked, feeling strong arms steady her. She blushed again, holding onto Rayven to regain her balance. “It’s so dark. I cannot see anything at all.”
Rayven’s quiet laugh was barely audible over the rain. “That’s because your world is built on Light. Out here, you have to trust your other senses.” With gentle care, she guided Neri’Va to a patch of dry stone, settling her at her side sliding her arm around the high elf.
The night stretched on, the storm’s music all around. Safe together, their breath fogged in the cool air, mingling in a small circle of warmth. Neri’Va, still flushed from Rayven’s nearness, hugged her knees and huddled closer.
“Do you do this often?” she finally asked, voice barely above the rain.
Rayven shrugged. “Storms come and go. Sometimes you hide, sometimes you face them. Sometimes,” she glanced sideways, a sly spark in her eyes, “you find yourself sheltering a priestess of Light who can’t see in the dark.”
Neri’Va blushed, but allowed a soft laugh. “I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”
They sat quietly, pressed together for warmth. Neri’Va rested her head against Rayven’s shoulder, taking comfort in the night dweller’s quiet strength. Her mind wandered—brief flashes of the temple, her small chamber, and the new, raw sense of vulnerability and bravery Rayven inspired.
Outside, thunder faded, leaving only the soft, endless tapping of rain. Occasionally, Rayven pointed out subtle night sounds—the hoot of an owl, the distant crack of a branch, small creatures hidden away. Neri’Va listened, letting her senses stretch into the dark.
As the wind lulled, Rayven spoke softly, almost to herself. “You know, I used to dream of nights like this—when the moon was whole, and Denday’s light washed everything in blue. We’d gather, sing old songs, tell stories or riddles until dawn.” She paused. “It’s different now. But… this isn’t so bad.”
Neri’Va found Rayven’s hand and squeezed it. “I wish I could have seen it. Maybe one day you can show me.”
Rayven snorted, but didn’t pull away. “If your people don’t burn the forest down looking for you first.”
“They won’t,” Neri’Va replied, quieter, her purple eyes steady. “Not if I’m careful. Not if I have you to watch over me.”
A peaceful silence settled. Neri’Va let herself drift, her head beneath Rayven’s chin, the world shrinking to Rayven’s heartbeat and the sheltering dark.
As the storm weakened, Rayven’s tension eased. She shifted her weight, careful not to disturb Neri’Va, tracing lazy circles with her thumb across the priestess’s hand. For a long while, neither spoke.
Sleep tugged at Neri’Va. Her eyelids drooped, thoughts growing slow. She wasn’t sure when she drifted off, but she felt Rayven’s arm tighten around her as if promising: you’re safe.
---
It was still dark when Rayven gently shook her awake. The rain had faded to a steady drip, and a pale wash of dawn seeped through the clouds outside.
“Neri’Va,” Rayven murmured, voice low. “It’s almost morning. You have to go before someone sees you’re gone.”
Neri’Va blinked sleepily, disoriented for a moment by Rayven’s warmth and her arm protectively around her. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. The cave looked softer in the blue-grey light, and she realised she didn’t want to leave.
Rayven, kneeling beside her, tucked a strand of platinum hair behind her ear and handed her the basket, her eyes gentle and tired.
“I’ll walk you to the edge of the field,” she said quietly. “Just in case.”
Together they slipped from the cave, boots squelching in the grass. The world outside was fresh and silent, trees glittering with water, air sharp and clean after the storm. As they walked side by side, the only sounds were the distant bell from town and the crunch of their steps.
At the field’s edge, where the last trees met the village wall, Rayven stopped. She looked down at Neri’Va, her expression a blend of pride and sorrow. She reached out, thumb brushing Neri’Va’s cheek, her touch gentle.
“Go,” Rayven said softly, fierce and loving at once. “Before anyone sees you.”
Neri’Va hesitated, then stood on tiptoe, pressing a quick, trembling kiss to Rayven’s jaw.
“Thank you—for everything,” she whispered.
Rayven’s lips curved into a rare, soft smile. “If you ever get caught in another storm… you know where to find me.”
Neri’Va stepped away, heart pounding, slipping through the dew-wet grass toward the secret gap in the wall. She looked back once, catching a last glimpse of Rayven—tall, broad-shouldered, deep purple skin glowing in the half-light, wild blue hair ruffled by the morning breeze, and those faintly glowing blue eyes watching until she was gone.
As Neri’Va crept back through the silent temple corridors, the memory of the cave and the wild, gentle night filled her with a warmth that not even the sun could match. For the first time, she wondered if perhaps the border between Light and Dark was meant to be crossed after all.