Neri’Va closed the door to her chamber with trembling hands. The morning sun was high now, but its light felt cold and uncertain, pressing sharp beams across the wooden floor. She pressed her back to the door, letting her breath out in a shaky rush. The news of her upcoming initiation still spun in her head, but fear for Rayven pressed harder on her heart. She wanted, for just a moment, to be nowhere but here—her own space, small and plain, with only the dust motes swirling and the ache in her chest for company.
But Rayven was there, sitting cross-legged on the little bed, sunlight glinting off her dark blue hair. She looked up as Neri’Va entered, a crooked smile warming her face. “You took your time,” she teased, though there was worry in her eyes.
Neri’Va tried to smile, her hands full with the small parcel of bread and fruit she’d stolen from the kitchens. Her robe still sat awkwardly on her shoulders, twisted by haste. She crossed the room and set the food down, her movements careful—almost ritualistic. She didn’t meet Rayven’s gaze at first.
“I’m sorry—I had to speak to the high priest. Rayven, you need to listen to me. There’s trouble.”
Rayven’s expression sobered instantly, her body tensing as if a silent chord had been struck. She drew herself up, almost regal despite the cramped setting, and reached for Neri’Va’s hand. “What’s happened?”
Neri’Va sat beside her, voice low and urgent, her fingers finding Rayven’s for strength. “I overheard them—just now. The high priest, the village leader, and the paladin. They’re sending a party into the woods tonight. They want to ‘cleanse’ it—drive out any shadows, any darkness. Rayven, you have to warn your people. You must make sure no one is seen, no one is caught. Please.”
She saw the transformation in the Night dwellers face: worry sharpening into that distant, hardened look. Rayven’s lips curled into a half-smile, but her eyes were cold and clear. “They won’t find anything. They don’t know where to look.”
“Please,” Neri’Va begged, reaching for her hand. “Promise me. Don’t confront them. Don’t lead them astray. Don’t give them any reason to keep searching. Just—hide. Let them find nothing. Let them believe the woods are empty.”
Rayven squeezed her hand, voice softening, the tension in her shoulders easing a little as she looked at Neri’Va. “I promise, Little priestess. No one will see us. I won’t even leave a trail for them to follow. Tonight, there will be no Denday scum in the woods at all.”
Neri’Va let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. Relief threatened to buckle her knees, but she stayed close beside Rayven, their knees pressed together. “Thank you.”
Rayven brushed her thumb over the high elf her knuckles. “You worry too much. I’ve survived worse.”
Neri’Va’s mouth quirked into a worried but soft smile. “I know,” she whispered. “But now I have so much more to lose.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room was filled with the sound of their breathing, and the distant clang of kitchenware downstairs. A silence fell between them—gentle, but heavy with the knowledge of what was at stake. Rayven reached for the bread and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. She tore off a piece, holding it out for Neri’Va, who accepted it absently.
The novice priestess didn’t eat however. She just slightly poked at the bread, her mind clearly elsewhere. Rayven took the bread from Neri’Va her hand and held it out in front of the pale elf her face. “Eat.” She simply said. The Night dwellers tone wasn’t unkind, but just stern enough to make Neri’Va take the bread again and actually take a small bite from it.
They sat like that for a while, sharing fruit and bread in companionable silence, pretending for a few minutes that they were safe—just two lovers, sharing a meal after a stolen night. Neri’Va watched Rayven’s hands, how sure and graceful they were even now, and found herself wanting to commit every detail to memory.
Rayven broke the silence first. “And what about you, little priestess? Why are you still shaking?”
Neri’Va looked down, twisting her hands in her lap, feeling exposed. “The high priest called me to his office. He’s written to the Temple of Light—I’m to be initiated soon. Priests and priestesses will come from the capital. It’s… it’s everything I’ve trained for. Everything I’m supposed to want.”
Rayven stilled, her gaze growing distant. She stood and moved to the window, looking out at the sunlight falling across the rooftops. For a moment, her posture was tense, shoulders stiff.
“And what do you want, Neri’Va?” Rayven’s voice was soft, but carried the weight of a thousand unspoken questions.
Neri’Va hesitated, then lifted her eyes to meet Rayven’s. “I want to stay. Here, in the temple. I want to be close to you, even if we have to keep hiding. I thought—if I became a priestess, maybe I could protect you better. Maybe things could change, in time.”
Rayven let out a low, humourless laugh. “You really think you can change their hearts, just by wearing a new robe?”
Neri’Va bit her lip, a small frown creasing her brow. “Maybe not. But I have to try. It’s all I know.”
Rayven’s arms folded across her chest. “You’re braver than you think, you know. I’ve seen you do things the other novices wouldn’t dare. Maybe one day the Light will be enough to keep both of us safe.” There was a wry note in her voice, but behind it was something almost like hope.
Neri’Va moved to the window, standing beside Rayven. She reached out, their hands finding each other on the sill. Outside, the village bustled—unaware, indifferent to the battles fought in the shadows and in secret rooms.
“I wish I could show you what I see when I look at you,” Neri’Va said softly. “Not just the Rayven everyone fears, but the woman who held me all night, who makes me feel safer than anyone else ever has.”
Rayven glanced at her, a ghost of a smile flickering on her lips. “You do show me. Every time you look at me like that.”
They stood together in silence, leaning against each other, until Rayven spoke again. “You could run away with me, you know. After your initiation. We could go somewhere else. Start over. You wouldn’t have to hide.”
Neri’Va’s heart twisted. “Rayven… I can’t. Not yet. I have to finish this, to know I tried. Please understand.”
Rayven nodded, looking away, her jaw tight. She took a few steps back to the other side of the room before she spoke again. “Think about it, Neri’Va. When the ceremony is over—when you’re a full priestess—maybe you’ll want something more than hiding in shadows.”
Neri’Va crossed the room, taking Rayven’s hand in both of hers. She pressed their foreheads together, her breath trembling. “I will think about it. I promise.”
Rayven’s hands slid down to cup her cheeks, gentle and strong. “If you changed your mind, I’d take you away tonight, you know. Far from here, before the world wakes up. Before they can hurt you.” The words were fierce, almost desperate, and Neri’Va felt tears prick her eyes.
“I know,” she whispered, blinking fast. “But I need to be strong—for both of us.”
Rayven’s expression softened, the old mischief returning just for a moment. “You are strong, Little priestess. The bravest soul I’ve ever met.” She leaned in and kissed her—slow, lingering, as if trying to memorise the taste of her.
When they finally pulled apart, Neri’Va rested her head on Rayven’s shoulder, breathing in her scent. “If you leave tonight, will I see you again before the ceremony?”
Rayven was silent for a heartbeat, then murmured, “If I can. I’ll find a way.” She tucked a lock of Neri’Va’s hair behind her ear, her touch lingering.
A sudden heaviness hung in the room—the sense that something fragile was about to break.
As Rayven reached for her cloak, preparing to leave through the window, Neri’Va felt the words bursting out, raw and true. “Rayven—I love you.”
Rayven froze, eyes widening. For a heartbeat, all the teasing bravado melted away. She stood there, cloak half-draped over her arm, searching Neri’Va’s face as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard right. Something flickered in her gaze—a complicated twist of longing, surprise, and a fear she rarely let show.
She crossed the room in two long strides, her hands finding Neri’Va’s cheeks, brushing stray hair behind her ear with trembling fingers. “Neri’Va…” she whispered, her voice rough with feeling. “Don’t say things you can’t take back.” Her thumb traced the line of Neri’Va’s jaw, and for a moment she looked like she wanted to say more—but the words caught behind her teeth.
Neri’Va tried to hold Rayven’s gaze, even as her own cheeks flushed. “I mean it,” she said, quietly but fiercely. “I love you. I had to say it. I want you to know, whatever happens tonight, or after, or if you go and I never see you again—”
Rayven pressed her forehead gently to Neri’Va’s, her eyes closing. “Little priestess, you make this so much harder than it needs to be.” She kissed her then—softly, desperately—pouring everything she couldn’t yet say into that kiss.
When she finally drew back, her fingers lingered at Neri’Va’s jaw. She offered a crooked smile, trying for her usual confidence but falling short. “Be safe, priestess of the Light to be.”
Neri’Va nodded, hope and heartache mingling in her eyes.
Rayven’s answering smile was small but fierce. “Always.”
With a final squeeze of her hand, Rayven slipped out the window, vanishing into the bright, uncertain day.
Neri’Va was left standing alone, the promise of love burning in her chest, hope and dread swirling as she gazed at the sky. The world outside was changing, shadows lengthening—and she was no longer sure which side of the Light she truly belonged to.
She sat on the edge of her bed, still feeling the warmth where Rayven had been, and tried to gather her thoughts. She wanted to write it all down, to hold on to something real while the world threatened to tip out of her grasp. But her hands shook, and all she could do was stare out the window at the sunlight creeping across the wooden floor.
She wondered if, somewhere out in the woods, Rayven was looking up at the same sky and thinking of her.