NIGHT

a silent retrieval. when night entered the ring, it was right after leaving bistro a generous sum of play-cash, and her feelings at the foot of the cintamani's doorstep. her gaze shifted, attempting to take in the appearance of the statues. had they remained constant? the same? no small detail out of place? her breathing was shallow in territory still unfamiliar, and after the day she'd had, things were still not looking quite right.

so her steps forward were tentative, sword in hand, the player almost flinching at every echo that bounced back towards her in the acoustically cursed room. one of the consumables was retrieved from the offered palms, and night examined it quietly, but not for too long. once the atmosphere had settled in that lonely devoid space, cold and overbearing pressure pressed upon her shoulders, and she opted to flee with gentle, solid steps before the system believed a punishment for her presence.

“um, can i come along too, then? … mom needs some time to rest after taking the medicine, and… i don’t exactly want to be alone right now…”

cyness spun in air – graceful, but not as energetic as before. “i think it’s best if i talk to her friends and family about her passing… but maybe i could help them, too, about the poison that’s spread through the floor? do you think… that’s what she would’ve wanted out of this?”

night wasn’t sure how to answer. but the ghost sure did, after a heartbeat, pressing her hand upon cyness’ form despite knowing she wouldn’t be recognized.

“well,” day quietly added, for the player to hear. “i think she would’ve wanted this little dragon to be okay, no matter what.”

and a breeze flowed into the grove, stirring it awake amidst the sleepy sunset light. it was difficult to ignore the way that cyness, then, seemed to nuzzle against day’s palm, before chuckling gently.

“it’s okay. you don’t have to say anything,” cyness replied, looking to night. “i think she just confirmed it for me.”

a short grieving session afterwards, and night and day had finally decided to leave. the player had all the materials she needed for a marking stone – it would be fitting to return to their skirmish spot out of respect for a beat. even if it wasn’t to serve them, she was sure izzlath and cyness would appreciate it all the same, and after a brief discussion, they gave their appreciation for the act.

cyness, however, told them to wait up, and so they did, entertaining the dragonling for the minute she’d wanted.

“um,” cyness began, looking downwards before her gaze fell on night. “you said voscira was her name, right? and that she was living in a village called krycim not too far from here.”

“yeah,” night replied, tired from the ordeal.

“are you going to go back there after this?”

the player but nodded again, even as she looked at day – the latter didn’t seem to mind.

as the dragon drew close to the herb, cyness sat on the ground, just as night felt obligated to do in wait for their ritual to end. her child spoke again.

“mom?”

izzlath stopped, and looked to her daughter in anticipation. tears starting to well up at the corners of cyness’ eyes.

“… i miss her already.”

“i know, sweet pea. i know.”

her mother brushed her snout upon her child’s head, and she exhaled, heavy and weary. after a long nuzzle of affection, izzlath finally pulled away to swallow the herb and pouch whole.

as she did, day finally squatted, similar to night. her eyes were just as distant, as she bumped shoulders with her original. “night?”

the player turned to her, pulling day close by her shoulders.

“yeah?”

“... i don’t think i like the sixth floor very much any more.”

both their gazes fell to the same spot on that unassuming mossy floor.

“yeah,” night returned, resigning herself to an incapability for a response. “... me too.”

they traveled back safely. night carried cyness on her head, the dragonling latched on high for safety, and in poor attempt to raise the party morale. day walked beside them, unusually quiet – it wasn’t in lieu of creepy ghosts, this time. the player figured her secondary had much to consider on their way back to izzlath’s lair.

the mother dragon seemed welcoming of their return. but noticing an absent spot where an amazonian warrior might be, she sombered, looking away in grief and loss. it was only at cyness’ approach with the pouch did izzlath finally tear her eyes away from distracting herself with the waterfall.

“mom? the nice hunter gave this to me. she said it’s for you to get better soon. and… she said she was really excited to see me! see both you and i as dragons, since she hadn’t seen us before…”

cyness placed the pouch on the ground, and so too did izzlath lower her head in grace for the offering.

they were silent for a minute, as they looked around to pick up the pieces. there was a faint sobbing from under one of the largest, palest leaves, and night pushed it aside to find cyness hiding underneath, clutching onto a sack without its owner.

night didn’t appear as terrifying as she once did, now. instead, she just looked tired, and sad – she wasn’t great with kids and neither did cyness need this loss. what was she to do?

she crouched down beside the dragonling, offering her hand out. cyness wriggled away, but hadn’t decided to turn tail just yet. “she said you were a hunter,” the creature offered after a bout of uncertainty. “does that mean you’re going to hunt me, too?”

some dark part of the player wanted to shoot back, voscira was the real killjoy here, if you think about it. instead, night shook her head, and offered a finger instead of her palm, bringing it gently to graze cyness’ head.

“i’m sure that would be against her dying wishes, too.”

there were no loud shrills, no echos of fanfare, merely the ambience of the forest, now distant and alien and other when nethag was removed from the world. night held out her sword for a brief moment, breathing heavy, guard still up, before she lowered it, raising her blindfold in silence.

she wasn’t expecting voscira to die. but somehow, guilt ate at her – not because she let it happen, but rather because she felt nothing for her disappearance. almost as though, subconsciously, she was already considering that possibility, and felt prepared when it did, in actuality, happen.

meanwhile, her counterpart finally strolled out of the dark, looking as though she’d seen a ghost.

no, night knew better. day had definitely seen one, had threatened to put it down, watched it vanish before she could exorcize it for good. the brief exchange they had when day brought her sights to night from the forest floor had a question behind it, one they both understood: did their involvement of voscira inevitably sentence her to her death?

the rest of the fight was a bit of a blur. when night heard the dragon’s return, she knew her blindfold had managed to serve its purpose.

and nethag was a brute. he sang as he stalked through the forest, uncaring and seemingly satisfied to have satiated his brief appetite for humans. and he remembered the other individual present, so his taunt was placated in nature, devoid of (apparent) hostile intent.

“oh hunter… that’s what she called you, isn’t it?” nethag chuckled brief, uncaring. “well, you’d better live up to the name, then. because she didn’t. wouldn’t want to disrespect her dying wishes, now would you?”

he laughed to himself, similar to a hyena’s call. and as he entered the clearing, spotting the player held still, he launched himself towards her, maw open.

night was quicker to react, despite the scuffle. his scales were hardy, sharp – she cut herself upon them as she side-stepped his attack in reaction to his presence, and with a well-placed blow, put him down.

there was a harsh tug on her cloak – harsher than anything she’d ever experienced – and voscira wanted to scream against it. she wasn’t planning on letting go of life just yet. and that amount of strength seemed about the kind that she’d suffered from nethag’s bite earlier, so she fought, struggled, did her best to pull away from the source of an abnormal gravity.

in that moment, she thought about the dragon hunter’s ghost.

in that moment, her very last, she felt the predator’s eyes upon her, and instinctively knew she was going to die.

when voscira passed, the force upon her cloak had long faded, and a different one erupted, sweeping her off her feet from her side. there should have been viscera, but there wasn’t. there should have been someone else present to have stopped it from happening.

but day couldn’t do a thing to alter cardinal’s narrative.

so she looked upon nethag as it stared, savagely and blankly, through her absent form.

then came two devastating bites – nethag was quick and accurate, a worthy opponent for a blindfolded player, perhaps. but it did not obtain its mythological name without reason, and in seconds, the amazonian was looking worse for wear on her health bar. her cry, if not out of pain or surprise, was defiant in all manners – powerful enough to have shocked the desecrator into letting her go, running into the wilds.

so she believed.

“wait!”

and night couldn’t see where she’d gone. a separate rustle from beside her told her enough about her aid’s state of mind.

voscira continued running, stopped after a few seconds and slid sideways into the dense brush. the dragon’s loud stomps could be heard, with a horrendous sniffing, where the hunter couldn’t see him. back up against a tree, she could only hope to remain hidden with a held breath – and then, when she couldn’t hear of him any further, she panted, hoping the relief would energize her once again.

“you must be joking,” came a booming, foreign voice that reverberated strong in her skull. “did you really think a blow like that could’ve taken me down?”

in equal measures, where night couldn’t see, voscira was standing guard between cyness and nethag. the dragonling, once confident, now beat her wings slow, trying her best not to draw attention to herself. in a hushed whisper, voscira gave cyness her orders – “go and hide. i’ll protect you, and so will the killjoy hunter. okay?”

she wasted no time in wait for a response, and neither did cyness stay long to give a reply. voscira whirled her spear about before striking nethag in the neck – a simple, effective blow, just as night wrestled with her surroundings to find the bit of their enemy enough to suffer damage. his tail – though raised in retaliation, would’ve been lopped off in another game through one slash of her blade, but remained attached, kicking up wind, telegraphing to night that she should hop over it in its sweep.

slowed breathing. the player was standing still. if she did, for long, she would be able to intercept the enemy, she felt, if it was charging towards the source of the noise. and night counted – in a heartbeat right before the third, she flashed her blade into her hand, with a lunge that pierced the ether – or it would’ve, if she hadn’t tackled something smooth yet sturdy at the shriek of a baby dragon. the sudden roar her target let out at being struck down by an ambush, the brush around it and itself caught aflame, and night knew that her intel was right.

it only works if you trust your environment, day had said. and it made night want to bite the corners of her mouth hard as she sank oathkeeper deeper through its hide. with a quick whirl, the player felt herself thrown off her hunt, however, and she fought to steady herself.

so night wandered into the darkness, following the rustles of voscira and cyness wading through tall grass and around leaves. all the while, cyness was humming a sweet little tune, practically buzzing with a need to return home as soon as possible. voscira, given a moment further, would appear to do exactly the same, playing harmonics to the dragonling’s fervent tune.

the player stayed far behind, however, expectant and wary. if she got too close, the moment she swung her sword, she wasn’t sure if she was going to hit a friend or foe. and her attacks were much more devastating than nethag’s himself – so it made sense to exert caution, even if she did feel the duo’s sideway glance towards her.

out of alienation and suspicion. night was starting to get used to it.

under the second set of leaves did she feel a whisper in her ear. the player stalled, for a moment, before understanding day’s call out, and the tap on her shoulder –

“he’ll strike diagonally to your right. count to 3, then move.”

“be on high alert,” night advised, to voscira’s quick dismissal.

“if you think nethag’s going to show now, then you keep a look out. i’m trying to track our way back to izzlath. division of responsibility, you know?”

cyness nodded in agreement. night decided she had just a little enough. allowing the two to walk ahead a little further, night decided to ‘speak to the ghost’, pulling out her blindfold with a wave of her hand. “day, i need you to tell me if and when you feel our mark getting close.”

“oh.” day eyed the fabric being wrapped around night’s eyes. “do you want me to hold your hand along the path, too?”

the player growled, as her eyes were shut behind cloth. despite not trying, she was still able to tune into the sounds of her party – a poor sign of their safety, if she had anything to say about it. “no. not necessary.”

“alright.”

night would’ve said safest way possible, but knowing that other players could frequent the dirt paths that snaked across the floor, it was possible that they’d be caught up by nethag’s attack, the player knowing his approach – and skirmish – was guaranteed. “which means we’re headed deeper into the jungle from the route we took before. be on the lookout for any odd signs from the forest norm.”

voscira simply gestured to the player, deadpanned. “see? killjoy.” it earned her a shake of the head from cyness, and an equally aggravated night and day. instead of entertaining the dragon hunter, however, voscira turned towards the shortcut they’d taken, beckoning cyness to follow, who did so obediently. night was slightly jealous. “come on, let’s get a move on. though i doubt nethag would show himself now, if he hadn’t before.”

what? letting her guard down now of all times? night did her best not to fume as she stomped behind them, right in step with her construct.

“if you just say the word, i could take them both out right now.” day’s smile relaxed. “i’m pretty sure i can do that.”

night waved her down. “no, no…”

“you can ignore her. she talks to ghosts sometimes, which is really creepy.”

now night tensed. “ghosts?”

cyness stuck her tongue out. “ew. that’s weird.”

night vibrated on the spot, refusing the urge to give in and grab cyness by her head, shaking the dragonling for being a huge brat.

“not a ghost,” she returned, through gritted teeth and an artificial smile. technically, voscira wasn’t wrong. but she didn’t want to have her flaws pointed out by way of optional quest npc right now. “not. technically. important. to discuss right now.”

day pulled the blade back to her side in feigned surprise. “i’m not important?”

“look!” night pulled up her interface with an exasperated sigh. “it’s better that we start heading back to the grove now through the quickest way possible.”

though it was heartwarming to see the two share their joy for having discovered new information about each other, night but raised a brow. part of it was in feeling neglected – she hadn’t been addressed yet – but the other was towards an insistence to move on with the quest. she wasn’t exactly sure how long to wait.

so she broke their exchange with a clear of her throat. “i’m right here.”

and cyness came to a stop. “who’s that?”

“oh. her?” voscira looked unimpressed. “that’s nobody. she’s the killjoy that i have to lug around because nethag is here.”

what.

“ohhhhhhh.”

admittedly, night had to appreciate how her quest’s title wasn’t used. because, in front of a little kid, perhaps cyness would’ve been scared off it voscira had used it. on the other hand, she wasn’t exactly appreciative of killjoy either. beside her, day grinned, summoning a large dagger and getting into a combat stance.

now cyness was properly interested. “wow, she did?”

“yeah!” and likewise, here was the first time voscira’s spirits seemed raised. “she told us about this other dragon, this big and scary nethag, and she was worried about you, so we’re here to make sure you get home safely.” the hunter didn’t end her speech there, however – immediately, she fished into her pouch to reveal the flower she’d collected. “and look!”

cyness tilted her head from side to side, excited. “oh, wow!”

“we heard that your mom’s feeling a little sick, and she told us about this rare flower that could help her recover from it.”

cyness spun once more in the air. “she is! she did!”

“so she’s going to get better soon!”

“mom’s going to get better soon!” and what was once a loop-de-loop turned into a set of zoomies encircling voscira. “haha, i knew making this trip would be helpful! even if there was big and scary nethag on the loose!”

night shook her head, and held back a warning. when voscira turned around, cyness had already zipped behind her, floating her way. it was a movement enough to scare the hunter slightly, to which day cheerfully giggled without fear of interruption. cyness tilted her head when she got close. “you were calling for me?”

“um, yes! dear dragonling, izzlath’s your mom, isn’t she?”

“mhm.” cyness did a somersault in mid-air that made voscira flush, her pupils widening. “you saw mom? you didn’t hurt her, did you?”

if the question was out of genuine concern, it didn’t sound like it through cyness’ voice, a little muted in emotion. night imagined they didn’t appear to pose much of a threat – whether it be due to their mortal status, or simply because they weren’t dragons themselves.

“no,” voscira replied in reassurance. “we did nothing of the sort. in fact, your mom told us to escort you home.”