The world was a gentle grey, the first light of dawn stealing through the narrow window of Neri’Va’s small chamber. For a fleeting moment, all was still. The only warmth in the cool morning came from the strong arm draped over her waist and the rise and fall of the woman sleeping at her back.
Rayven was utterly relaxed, her face softened in sleep, a lock of dark blue hair flopped over her brow. Neri’Va traced the line of her jaw with her eyes, marvelling again at the depth of her purple skin, the grace and strength that lingered even at rest. It was a miracle, she thought, that they both fit in this narrow cot at all. Last night’s wildness echoed in the tangles of sheets and the trail of clothing—her own pale robe, Rayven’s dark tunic and cloak, strewn haphazardly across the wooden floor.
Neri’Va wanted to stay here forever, cocooned in Rayven’s embrace, shielded from the world’s demands. But the spell was fragile. From the heart of the temple, the morning bell tolled—soft at first, then more insistent, calling all to prayer.
She flinched, heart pounding. If she was late there would be questions. She had to move.
Carefully, so as not to wake her companion, the high elf began to slide from under Rayven’s arm. But the night dweller stirred, a sleepy smile curling her lips. “Where do you think you’re going?” she mumbled, eyes half-lidded.
Neri’Va grinned, tucking a wild strand of hair behind her ear. “Morning prayers. If I don’t go, they’ll come looking.”
Rayven stretched, the movement shifting the bedsheets dangerously. “Let them look. I have everything I need right here.” She reached out, fingers catching Neri’Va’s hand and tugging her back to the bed.
“Rayven!” Neri’Va protested, but laughter danced in her voice. “You’re impossible. I have to look presentable. The high priest would faint if he saw me like this.”
Rayven’s gaze softened, and she kissed Neri’Va’s fingers. “You look perfect to me.”
Blushing, Neri’Va disentangled herself and set about collecting her clothes. She moved quietly, keeping her footsteps light on the cold wooden floor. She was halfway into her robe when she paused, kneeling beside the bed. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For not slipping out in the night.”
Rayven’s blue eyes were gentle. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
Neri’Va smiled, feeling the moment slip between her fingers like water. The pale elf pressed a final kiss to Rayven’s brow, then hurried to dress. She twisted her platinum braid as neatly as she could, took a deep breath, and cracked the door open.
The corridor outside was washed in watery morning light. Neri’Va’s feet made barely a sound on the wood, every sense sharpened by the risk of being discovered. She could hear faint voices rising from the kitchens and the echo of footsteps from other acolytes beginning their day.
As she tiptoed past closed doors, Neri’Va found herself glancing at every shadow, feeling the echo of Rayven’s warmth on her skin. The narrow passage near the high priest’s office was quieter than usual, the air carrying the spicy-sweet tang of burning incense and distant bread.
She was halfway down the hall when she paused, suddenly alert. The heavy wooden door to the high priest’s office stood slightly ajar, a thread of conversation slipping out into the corridor. Neri’Va’s heart leapt into her throat. She pressed herself flat against the wall, holding her breath as she listened.
“…it’s time to act. The corruption grows bolder every night,” said the village leader, his tone sharp. “I’ve spoken to the shepherds and the huntsmen. There are tracks in places no one dares to go. Even the hounds refuse the trail now.”
“I agree,” replied the high priest, his voice tight with weariness. “The safety of our people must come first. We cannot allow shadows to stalk our borders. Already the elders whisper that we have lost Quintra’s favour.”
There was a brief shuffling—papers perhaps, or the paladin’s gauntlet flexing against the desk.
“Give me your blessing, Father,” the paladin said, her voice steely and clear. “My knights stand ready. I will take my men and cleanse the woods before the darkness takes hold. We have delayed too long already.”
“And if there truly are Denday worshippers?” the village leader asked. “If they have returned, hiding among the trees?”
“They will be shown the Light, or they will fall to it,” the paladin replied. “The people are frightened. Last night, a farmer claimed he saw blue lights in the woods. And the children are waking with nightmares. You can feel it, can’t you? There is unrest even in the streets.”
A silence followed, broken only by the ticking of the ornate brass clock on the shelf. Neri’Va felt her heart beating in her ears.
“The last time we waited, people died,” said the paladin, softer now. “This time, we must act swiftly. Even the novices are growing fearful—no one will walk the fields after dusk.”
“And what if we make it worse?” the high priest wondered, voice low. “A heavy hand can drive darkness deeper. Are we prepared for what may come crawling out?”
The paladin hesitated, then said, “The Light was never meant for the timid, Father. Give us leave to do what is necessary.”
Neri’Va could almost see the high priest’s resigned nod in her mind’s eye. “Tonight, then. You and your men will enter the woods and drive out any who threaten the Light. Spare no effort. We must show strength, for the people’s sake.”
“But we do not seek blood for its own sake,” he added quickly, as if to appease his own conscience. “Restrain your swords where you can.”
There was a murmur of assent. Neri’Va waited, breath shallow, as the scrape of chairs and the clink of armour told her the meeting was ending.
For a heartbeat, Neri’Va stood frozen, pulse thrumming in her ears. She pictured Rayven—her Rayven—caught in the sweep of Quintra’s zeal, and fear seized her. She slipped away before they could emerge, the urgency of what she’d heard pushing her steps faster.
She slipped into the great hall just as the morning prayers began. The space was alive with flickering candles and the low, melodic chanting of the acolytes. Neri’Va’s lips moved in familiar patterns, but her mind was elsewhere. Every word of blessing she spoke felt heavy with guilt and dread. She wondered, as she knelt among her peers, if anyone could see the secret that pressed against her heart like a bruise.
She bowed her head, squeezing her eyes shut, and tried to focus. The words of the ancient prayers had always brought her comfort before, grounding her in the temple’s embrace. Now, each phrase was a reminder of everything she risked—her faith, her calling, her love. The goddess’s Light shines in you, the high priest had said. But what if that Light burned too brightly, exposing what was meant to be hidden? After all, you needed Light to see the Dark.
After the ceremony, the congregation scattered—some to chores, others to lessons or study. The high vaulted ceiling echoed with the shuffling of feet and quiet conversation. Neri’Va made for the side door, intending to sneak to the kitchens for bread and fruit to bring to Rayven. The narrow hall beyond was cool, the polished floor gleaming in the new sunlight.
But before she reached it, the high priest’s voice called her back.
“Neri’Va. A moment, if you please.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Why did the high priest want to talk to her? Did someone see her? Did he know? A million questions and concerns raced through the high elf’s head, but she had to push them aside, tucking them away, hiding them in the deepest, darkest part of her mind.
She turned, forcing composure onto her features. The high priest’s office was full of golden light, papers neatly arranged on the desk, incense burning in a slender bowl. He gestured for her to sit.
“My child, you have served with great diligence,” he began, his smile warm but proud. “You have shown wisdom beyond your years, and the goddess’s Light shines in you. I have written to the Temple of Light in the capital. They agree it is time for your initiation.”
Neri’Va’s heart skipped. “My… my initiation?”
Of all the reasons she could have thought of for the high priest to call upon her, this one she had to admit hadn’t even crossed her mind.
He nodded, clearly pleased. “Priests and priestesses will come to prepare the ceremony. You will be anointed before the community. This is a great honour, and a great responsibility. I am certain you are ready.”
He paused, studying her with that blend of fatherly pride and watchful caution. “I have also received word of your acts of charity,” he continued. “There are whispers you have been seen delivering baskets of food to those in need, especially near the village walls.” His smile softened. “It is a fine thing. Service and kindness to all—such is the true mark of a priestess. The goddess is well pleased.”
Neri’Va coloured slightly, trying not to fidget. She wondered what he would think if he knew who truly received her secret baskets.
“I… I only wished to be of help,” she said softly.
He nodded, approving. “There is great need now, especially with unrest so near our borders. Your compassion gives hope, Neri’Va. Do not let fear keep you from doing good.” He reached across the desk, patting her hand. “Go with the Light, Neri’Va. Make us proud.”
For a moment, Neri’Va could not speak. Her mind spun—honour, duty, pride, and terror all tangled together. To be a priestess was everything she’d ever trained for. It was also the one thing that would tie her to this place, to these vows, and—perhaps—away from Rayven forever.
“I… thank you, Father,” she managed. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears.
She stumbled out, heart thundering in her chest. The sun had fully risen now, casting long, bright beams through the temple corridors. But Neri’Va felt only shadows.
She kept her head down as she slipped away, ducking through the side corridor toward the kitchens, mind racing. The air in the halls was thick with the aroma of baking bread, and the voices of the cooks, sharp and cheerful, seemed to belong to another world.
She snatched up a small parcel of bread and fruit—enough for two—and hurried back to her chamber, careful to avoid the gaze of any passing priest. At her door, she paused, steadying her breathing, bracing herself for the conversation that would follow.
She hurried back toward her chamber, hands shaking. Every step felt heavier, the weight of her secrets growing with every turn in the hallway. She stopped once, pressing her forehead against the cool stone wall, willing herself not to cry.
The sun was climbing now, spilling through the high window, illuminating the motes of dust swirling in the air. Neri’Va looked at the door handle as though she was trying to force herself to reach out with her hand to the door handle, twist it and enter her room. Why did she hesitate?
She just stood there for a moment, eyes glistening. Love and loyalty. Duty and danger. For the first time, she wasn’t sure she could carry them all. After taking a deep breath she willed herself back into action and opened the door to go inside her room where Rayven was still waiting for her.