Under the Moonlight
The nightmares had gotten worse. Lona had awoken on the floor in a cold sweat. Silvery moonlight shining in from the window behind her but barely enough to illuminate the dark shadows in the room. It felt real. Her flesh was stripped from her bone in a large whirlpool. The freezing cold of the dark night, yet there was nothing to hear. The nightmare was silent and there was nothing to think of. Nothing was there to distract from the pain of the eerie silence. Not the sound of the sea, nor the lessons she's learned, nor the voice of her mother was there to comfort her in the vision. She was thankful when she woke up. Thankful for the buzzing of the night critters to their fellow nocturnal hunter. Thankful for the old music box that played a simple tune whenever she felt so alone. And thankful for the ringing heartbeat that clouded all that her pointed ears could hear, because it was a sign that she was still alive.
It was too late into the night to do anything productive. Too dim to read back on old notes. Too wasteful to use up a candle in the dark until the eventual sunrise. Too early to check the fermenting pot, and too dark to check on the progress of the dried leaves. It turns out there was not much to do in a small hut that also acted as your laboratory and occasional place of business. It had been a particularly cold night, too. And all too often did “too” ring in her head. Something had to occupy the mind when nothing else came. She refused to keep silent in her thoughts, to fall back on the waking nightmare, so she had to fixate on a word constantly. Even that wasn't enough. It wasn't the worst time to go out into the woods. Even in the dark, she knew of the way around the trees that surrounded her. After dressing in clothes thicker than the pajamas she had on, she wore the only pair of boots left at the door and wandered out of the isolated home.
Might as well pick up a few things along the way. Lona had wandered towards a nearby riverbank. Calm enough to wade through easily and catch a few toads for their milky toxins. By now it was much more simple than before. She waved her hands and spoke an old tongue, and before long, several species of frog, toad, and fish were swimming in their own floating bubble of water. Easy enough to pick from and extract the proper specimen for a future project. But something else was there with her. She quickly dropped everything and prepared a frozen spear directly at whatever exited the cover of the trees.
It was a woman dressed in white, her skin just as pale as her long, flowing robes. She moved with such serenity that did not feel out of place in the calm, moonlit forest. Her long black hair helped frame the face hidden under the hood, as well as the pure red blindfold that hid her expressions. It was almost enough to let Lona lower her guard. Almost.
“Why are you here?” Lona shouted towards her. The lady's movements not slowing down one bit as she approached.
“Be calm, child. No harm will come to you this day.” She spoke back in a voice as soothing as the riverbank. The accent was foreign to her, but the tone was not. For some reason, it was able to bring forth lost memories. Memories of a mother in bed comforting the crying child. Even more familiar was her visage.
“I know of your kind, demon.” She tried to recall the stories of strange, otherworldly people from previous clients. Tales of monsters greater than the snouted folk that could cleave mountains in half. To her surprise, the pale figure stopped its approach. Maybe reassessing the situation? But instead of saying anything, she only smiled warmly as the eye hidden behind the rooting fabric glowed brighter than a lantern.
It was enough to break her concentration, to let the frigid ice careen into a random forest creature. Lona's eyes blurred as she fell onto her knees. What was this? A strange feeling flooded inside of her and all she could do was cry with shaky breath. She felt everything everywhere all at once. Emotions that were once trapped were let loose in an instant. There was so much regret, so much sadness in everything. Why could it not have been enough? Yet as images flashed through her mind of the past that both was and once was, there was someone there to comfort her through it all.
“My, my. What a beautiful tapestry.” The demon said while gently caressing the crying child. “It shines in two colors yet never blends together.”
Unmei saw something in the fate of the half-elf girl. A similar break in the pattern of their lives, but hers told of two stories instead of one. The future tugs at both possibilities of a happy end and a tragic one. She was always destined for the silence, but for whatever reason, there was something new to weave from the pattern. Another party, another story, but this time they didn't have to turn against their fellow companions. “I'll be watching you closely from now on.”
Under the shade of a nearby tree, Lona awoke to the morning songs of the early birds. Rather than the pale lady from last night's trip, a young man in a hay cloak sat away from her as the nearby stag in reins drank from the crystal clear pool.
“You're not hurt, are you?” he spoke as he brought a cup to her. Lona inspected the cup before inspecting the man again. There was no poison. Not that it mattered. She was used to experimenting new potion recipes on herself, but it did mean that the man had no ill will.
“I'll be fine.” She rejected the cup anyway and tried to dust herself off as she got up only for a sickening dizziness to cause her to stumble her legs and fall onto the support of a nearby tree. The memories from last night still held onto her.
“Are you al-”
“I said I'm fine!" she shot back quickly. Giving it a bit more heart than she wanted to. “I, I mean…” becoming all the more flustered at her own sudden rudeness.
“It's nothing much. Believe me.” she said, trying to return to form. “Look, I run a little potion brewery a few paces in that direction. You can check up on me afterward if you want.” she said, trying to change the subject. The stag looked at her strangely, then back to his companion holding his reins. But before he could say a word, she stormed back to the supposed direction of her little shop.
She thought about her excuses. How she was just feeling a bit drowsy from the sudden awakening. In any case, whether he's going to come visit or not, she had to tidy up the place for the coming day. Plenty of adventurers would be coming in for supplies, so she might as well make her home prettier than usual. At least not before recording as much as she could remember onto the spare parchments she had by the mortar.