The sun was high in the sky when Yu Rael and Vaen came out of the leader's tent.
Against the shallow concavity of a white-sanded basin, the tribe's settlement glowed with the pale, muted light of multi-layered tent cloth—grayer and bluer dyes predominating, reflecting the lunar theme which the tribe had maintained through generations. Banners flapped listlessly in the desiccated wind, flying crescent moons and runic motifs of an ancient vintage.
The sun beat down on Rael, its warmth she could feel, but not its weight. This is home. Well, the closest she was going to come to it. And today, she was not standing here as the free mercenary leader of the Chaos Region. No, she was Saintess of the Moon Tribe again, whether she liked it or not.
As they strolled along the central avenue ; almost a line of elevated rugs and bone lamps. Rael gestured to one of the passing young men.
"Get a guest tent beside mine," she ordered with a wave of her hand, pointing towards Vaen.
"Yes, Saintess!"
She didn't glance back to see if Vaen reacted to the title. She doubted he would.
Vaen trailed after her in silence. Hevnever slowed her down.
Once they were alone in her own tent, she indicated the pillows. "Drink. It's not poisoned," she joked.
He inclined his head once and sat with an unguarded peace that annoyed her a bit. Always so still. Always unreadable.
She presented him with a chilled glass of crushed snowvine juice, the kind her people saved for special guests. He took it silently, sipped, and placed it quietly on the tray on the small table. His fingers didn't even tremble with chill.
Rael stretched out beside him, pulling one leg over the other.
But before she could even think about speaking anything the tent flap creaked open.
"Rael!"
Her lips pressed back into a thin line.
A man strode in, his golden-brown hair tied loosely back and his shoulders broad. He wore desert armor; light, flexible, burnished with merchant-fighter markings. His cultivation of Stage 1 Golden Core was stable and well-concealed.
She stood up slowly. "Kairas."
Kairas gave her a roguish grin. "Still hate formal greetings?"
"You didn't come here for ceremonies," she said dryly.
He turned and gave Vaen a swift, assessing glance. Vaen, understandably, did not bother with a response.
"And who is this?" Kairas inquired in a nonchalant manner.
"Somebody who's handy with a sword. A traveling acquaintance." She did not say anything further.
Kairas arched an eyebrow but did not question further. "Well, I'm glad you're here. Grand Elderl said you came with something of importance."
"Yes." she replied, brushing past him to pour herself a drink. "I've had a long morning."
"You're still difficult," Kairas laughed. "Some things never change."
He stayed a few more minutes, made some harmless jokes, asked about her mercenary work, and dropped a hint about missing the old days. She responded with polite indifference and a few sideways comments.
Eventually, he stood to leave.
"You can drop by later," he told Vaen, throwing her one last look. "If your visitor doesn't mind."
"I'll let you know," Rael told him unflinchingly.
He left, and again silence fell.
She didn't speak at first. Just sat beside Vaen again and sipped her juice.
"You didn't like him," she stated a moment after, looking at his face. Or at least the material that rested upon it.
"I didn't dislike him either," Vaen replied. "I don't know him."
"He used to like me," she said nonchalantly.
"I know."
She blinked. "How?"
"You leaned back when he came in, but did not frown. You got up, but did not smile. There was recognition. But not welcome."
Rael turned her head aside, the corner of her mouth shaking. "You're too sharp for a blind man."
"I don't need eyes to see what is standing in front of me."
Silence.
Then, a strange quiet descended on the tent. It was not uncomfortable. Not really.
Only… quiet.
Rael shifted once more, arms folded under her robe now. "Have you ever loved anybody?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I didn't live a life that had room for it."
She didn't care for that answer.
She looked at the floor for a space before she said anything else.
"You know," she said slowly, "people keep asking me when I'll go back and lead the Moon Tribe like I should. As a Saintess. They say I have the qualifications, the bloodline and the face."
"You don't want it?"
"I don't want chains."
"Then don't wear them."
She let out a low, unsweet laugh. "You make that sound easy."
Vaen said nothing. He didn't need to.
For an instant, her gaze lingered on him.
Odd man with Uncanny power and Quiet past. Blind, but sees too much. She didn't know whether to beware or wonder.
Maybe both.
She poured his glass again.