Where Does My Heart Call, Does It Call For You?

Taking place directly after ‘Crystal Clear Vision’…
🌟 Cowritten with the wonderful Gerhard  🌟

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Orianna had a lot to think about and she was exhausted — a dangerous combination when making decisions about things that were out of her comfort zone. But she had nearly died twice in the fight against the young white drakes. In those moments of darkness, when the River was lapping at her ankles, enticing her to come in, there was one regret that shone brighter than the nebula of others she held within her heart. That was why, the moment she returned to Daring, she said a hasty, “See you later!” to the others, giving Florian and Ilthuryn an impossibly tight but warm hug each, before running as fast as her cloven legs could carry her to the Academy.

With the light of her star map shining upon the small desk, Orianna began to write a short letter to the man that had been avoiding her for the past tenday.

Dear Gerhard,

The life we have is but one and though I am young, I have seen too many people leave me without a word of their going. I would not have it again, not with you. I do not know if I did something to offend you but if I have that was never my intention. My desire has been to help. I know you wished to keep me out of what you are dealing with but after nearly being taken by the River yet again I came to the realisation I would regret not trying to see you to find out, for sure... what this is between us.
It is too late tonight but tomorrow afternoon, in the Dusk Yard you will find me under the giant yew tree. Hopefully, I will see you there.

– Orianna

---

The sharp tap tap tap on the window of his room in the Three-Headed Dragon pulls Gerhard from his book, his head turning around wildly at the noise. Swinging his legs off the edge of the bed, he unlatches the window, where a small hawk sits waiting. Around its leg is tied a small note.

The hawk opens its beak, and Gerhard braces for a caw to break through the night's summer air. He is right to brace, as instead it is a familiar voice that cuts through his heart, plucking the strings he had been keeping guarded.

“Apologies for the late note. I hope you are well, Gerhard.”

He unties the note with shaky hands before stroking the bird's head and sending it on its way. The window he keeps open, the cool night air fighting against the flush rising in his cheeks. A candle is lit on his desk; the note is read, and read again, and thrice, before set down with still shaky hands. The tea next to him is cold, but he sips it anyway — a personal ward against his rising anxiety.

He breathes in, deeply, slowly, before snuffing the candle and returning to bed.

---

The few people that remained in Daring Heights were saying the weather was extremely hot but to Orianna it was just right. Possibly a little too humid, but she was used to heat. It was nice being outside, the gentle breeze that tickles the branches over her horned head making a soft percussion for her to listen to, half dozing. A tome lay beside her, its pages fluttering as the lettering, shone gold — but only to her it seemed. Finally being able to read the text of Grougaloragran’s Book of Many And True Prophecies Of The Stars had occupied the first hour she had been out here but now she was sleepy. It seems the high tailed trek back from the Sunset Spines had exhausted her more than she thought.

The soft footfalls of someone approaching punctuate the melody of the summer afternoon. They slow, and stop, the hesitation lasting a mere moment before they begin again, carrying their quarry to the roots of the giant yew.

“Hi, Orianna,” comes the voice, quiet and unsure.

Gerhard is without his cloak, the small bits of parchment instead spiralling out of his overstuffed satchel. The noon sun glints off of the silver longbow he keeps slung over his shoulder, a hand moving back to adjust it as he steps forward. His hair looks… different, the mark of someone taking time to present their best. A soft white shirt sits over his shoulders, undone at the top with rolled up sleeves to combat the stifling heat.

His hands hold a small basket, and he gestures to Orianna if he may join her underneath the branches.

“Gerhard,” she starts a little, blushing at her dozy demeanour. Orianna cannot help but take in the sight of the man before her. She hadn't realised how much she missed him until this moment, and how scared she was he wouldn’t come. Then she sits up straight remembering herself, blushing a little further up to her ears. Attempting to cover her embarrassment, Orianna checks where Grougaloragran’s book has got to, sees it beside her, picks it up, and brushes the few fluffs of pollen that have landed in its open pages before closing it.

“Please, ah, do come join me,” Orianna says quietly, casting a smile up at Gerhard.

Gerhard steps forward, laying his basket on the ground. The Call he takes off his shoulder, leaning it up against the yew, before settling down next to Orianna.

She is busying herself with putting the book away in a bag he didn’t see behind her. She continues to dig around in there looking for something else as he comes over.

“I have something. A present of sorts, though it’s not like the moon stone you got me — complete as is. But I hope my notes will make the doing of the thing I’m about to give you a lot easier.”

Orianna wears a loose, draped dress of soft pink and shimmering white that shows off more skin than she has shown before. On her upper arms are two crescent-like tattoos or scars in royal blue. Gerhard’s eyes are drawn to her rummaging, and then to her markings. His eyes dance over the designs, trying to determine what they are. There are similar markings on her chest, lower neck, and upper back, the ones on her chest a shimmering white whilst the ones on her back a dark almost black.

“Okay there’s that. Now where are my notes…”

Her tail flicks a little, betraying her slight frustration at not finding what she wants right away. Her braid slips, exposing her back, and he finally realises. Scales. Crystalline ones, just like those of a dragon. Many, small and intricate, creating beautiful crescent moon designs. His eyes linger on the one on her neck, and the one in the small of her back, and then further, admiring the curve of her neck, the graceful slope disappearing into the soft pink fabric…

“Here we are! Hiding on me, how rude.”

As Orianna sits back up, Gerhard blushes, turning away, pretending as though he was looking up at the branches above their heads. She turns around, oblivious of his deception, and offers up a tube about the length of her forearm and a paper case with a few sheets of parchment.

“This is for you,” Orianna says, holding these items towards Gerhard.

He holds out his hand at Orianna’s offer, his mind back to when she last offered something to him. He does his best to send it from his thoughts, taking the tube and case and looking them over.

“For me? Thank you, Orianna. What are they?” he asks as he inspects the tube.

She looks at Gerhard’s hands as he takes the items from her, speaking to them instead of looking up.

“We went to a cave at the peak of one of the mountains in the Sunset Spine. I only just got back late last night, before sending my note…” Her eyes flicker up briefly before returning down, the tips of her ears burning anew. Gerhard really did look handsome in the afternoon light. “It is my poor attempt at copying a map I saw in the book I had out earlier. It’s an amazing thing! No one else could see it, the map, except me and, though I thought of you, I didn’t know where you were because- Ah, well, you must’ve been busy. And, well, I couldn’t help but think you’d enjoy following this path if you were to, maybe, come with me again in the future. It was a dangerous, what is it they say… ‘adventure’?” She laughs. “I guess I am an adventurer now, as well as an Archivist and Scholar. Anyway,” Orianna realises she is rambling on a bit and tries to get to the point. “You make beautiful maps and I thought you’d like this. I’m not as good as you, but I’ve annotated it with star markings to make it a bit of a combination of star and cartographer’s map.”

Gerhard carefully removes the map from its tube, slowly unfurling it between them until he can see it in its entirety. His ears burn, too, at the mention of his being... difficult to find these last few days, but the excitement at seeing Orianna's work takes the front seat for now.

His eyes linger on the thin lines, the careful strokes, the beautiful stars capturing not just place but time; a snapshot. Orianna’s attention to detail and steady hand fill him with pride. Pride that Orianna would consider him worthy of such a gift that she surely spent hours on.

He pours over it, his eyes resting on the mountaintop, and the cave above which sits a label in careful script: Grougaloragran. But: his brow furrows, as he looks up and down the mountain, searching for something that he expected to find.

He looks up, meeting Orianna’s eye. The two, crouched over the map, were far closer than he expected, and he’s surprised when their noses nearly touch. “Orianna… you mentioned in your… letter, that you’d nearly been taken by the river again. But.. where is it? I’m not seeing it here on the map,” he asks, quietly, nearly whispering, aware of the sliver of distance between them.

“Ah…” The small sound of her voice comes out a little breathless. She is unsure where to go. Orianna is suddenly considering her mistake in thinking the weather isn't hot at all, instead of focusing on answering the question just asked of her. Thinking about it, she certainly feels a lot warmer now. Perhaps because there is no breeze? Even her heart is pounding like she has walked across miles of dunes. It couldn't be from the nearness of Gerhard as he looks at her, waiting for an answer. It’s not at all because, in the past tenday, this is the closest he has been to her and now there's just a sliver of light between her half parted lips and his.

“The river…?” she starts. Perhaps she needs a drink — a nice tall drink of… water. “Oh.” She suddenly realises what he is asking about. “That River.”

Orianna sits back, resting on her left side so as to have a bit more space between them. It was really warm next to Gerhard on this already really hot summer’s day.

“The River I mentioned is a… metaphor of sorts. It is what my people believe as the place one journeys through when passing from this life into the next.” She picks up a bit of pollen that has fallen on her pink skirts between her thumb and forefinger, holds it up and blows it away from them. “The River of Death,” she utters quietly, reverently.

Gerhard had turned aside to open his basket, listening to Orianna as he fetched a few water skins and a bottle of something, when the blood in his veins went cold.

The River of Death.

His face, white as the shirt he wears, whips around at Orianna’s words. The drinks are dropped, resting where they fall amongst the roots. A comfortable lounge becomes a kneel in front of her, and in a flash his hands hold one of her own. He's small in this position, his shoulders down and his head low, the guilt upon his shoulders weighing heavy now as he understands the contents of the letter he received.

Orianna nearly died.

You were too much of a coward to be there.

The thoughts echo around his mind. He tries to chase them off with words, with an explanation, with anything, but his tongue sits heavy and dry in his mouth. All he can muster is to hold on to her hand, tight.

“I… I didn’t know, Orianna. I’m sorry,” he manages to sputter out.

“Gerhard.” His reaction was so sudden and so heartfelt, Orianna almost forgot to breathe. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He stays bent over her hand, unmoving yet his shoulders, almost his whole body, shaking.

“Really, I am okay,” Orianna repeats, resting her other hand on his shoulder. She leans forward a little, her concern growing. “Please, will you look at me?”

He looks up at her, his eyes betraying the fear that has driven itself deep into his heart.

Cupping his face in the hand that was on his shoulder, Orianna speaks softly, really emphasising her words with truth and sincerity. “I am okay. Ilthuryn and Florian were watching over me. They brought me back from the River’s edge.” He gently rubs her thumb against his cheek. “You do not have to apologise for what is not your fault.”

He removes a hand, reaching up to hold Orianna’s to his cheek. Feeling her there, next to him, reminds him that she is here. She’s not gone.

He didn’t do anything that can’t be undone.

Gerhard chuckles, the sort of nervous chuckle that feels aspirational, a shroud over the tumultuous emotions chasing each other in his chest. His eyes betray him still, though — they flick rapidly, focusing on Orianna’s.

“I should be the one comforting you,” he says. “All I’ve done these past few days is read in my room.”

Her brow furrows a little over her concerned, violet eyes.

“Death is not an unfamiliar thing to my people. Until I came here I had not felt the River’s waters personally but my-” She stops unexpectedly, almost like she is choking up at the memory. Orianna looks down, pressing her lips together. When she looks back up to Gerhard, she takes a breath, hesitates and then makes the plunge.

“No word or sight of you for a tenday… I didn’t know what I had done to deserve such indifference.” She begins to pull back a little, unconsciously. “But just now, you reach for me, to hold on to me like you’re scared for me.”

Gerhard pulls back, ashamed. He sits back on his feet, still kneeling, his hands shuffling over themselves, picking at a nail here, rubbing at an ink stain there. His eyes are stuck on the routine motions they make, unable to look back at Orianna.

“I…”

He has tried his best not to think of the last time he saw Orianna. Too many… difficult emotions. His flight in the night after a researcher came by to see her didn’t leave much time to discuss… what this was. What they were to each other. What she meant to him.

“Well… I…”

He takes a deep breath, and casts his heart out, flinging it into the space between them. Praying she would take it as her own.

“I didn’t mean to… avoid you, Orianna. Ah, I’m not very good at this. And I’m more accustomed to…” He pauses, finding the words. “To my feelings being met with stone.”

He squeezes the last few words out, an effort that he concludes with a quick flicker of his eyes back up to meet Orianna’s.

Her face is coloured by curiosity, followed by intense confusion at Gerhard’s strained explanation. Then, very slowly, her periwinkle skin begins to flush more purple as the scales on her chest, arms and back seem to ripple, almost like a wave of light has coursed through them.

“Then- Wait. You’re saying you… do have feelings for me?” The flush keeps climbing up to reach her cheeks, making her eyes shine with a brighter light. “But you’re scared… Are you afraid of me?” Her mind races. “What are your feelings for me? Are they-” She can’t say it, is too scared to say it. The heat of the day is making her think that’s what Gerhard means, surely.

Gerhard leans in, placing a hand on the ground to come closer to her.

“I could never be scared of you, Orianna.”

He’s shaky, and nervous, and he’s been on this ledge before, but still he takes the plunge, leaning further to close the remaining distance.

“I don’t know what this is yet, but I want to find out.” His voice is low, tentative but with a hint of the will that opens doors to worlds unknown.

It’s that voice that draws her in, pulling her will and heart towards him as the heat bubbling just beneath the surface makes her feel as light as air.

“Then we can explore this unknown… together,” Orianna says softly. “I don’t know all your pains from the past, but I told you before I would share this with you.”

Her hands reach towards him as starlit eyes fall to his lips. Orianna’s right hand takes Gerhard’s left and places it over her heart, the heat from his palm matching the white fire burning within her chest. Meanwhile, her other hand finds its way into his hair, pulling herself closer to him, and he to her.

“So even when you leave…” She looks into his eyes, a shine to them that says she remembers what he said before, about the Staircase, about Henri, about all of it, and despite all of that she is not scared. She can be a Northern Cross for him, should he wish it. “…you can find your way back to me.”

Their kiss is slow, and emotional, a balm for their fears and doubts. There is still fear, yes: fear of the days, and how few they number; fear for the war ahead, and the battles to be faced. But as Gerhard places a hand on Orianna’s side, slipping it to the small of her back, bringing her closer, there is hope, too. Hope for their preparations being enough; hope for the long days of summer to push back the relentless march of time.

Gerhard is the first to break the spell, casting a quick eye around for any interrupting onlookers, before resting his forehead against Orianna’s, her front horns tousling his hair. He grins, a wry smile of release from the anxieties of love, staring into the violet eyes of the woman in his arms.

If he knew what a desert oasis was like, Gerhard thought it would be like Orianna. She carries a warm and regal scent that conjures the image of an endless sea of sand with a hint of respite, that oasis full of coconut trees, pure waters, and dark vanilla carried on a warm desert wind. Golden frankincense, black amber, and myrrh stir under the endless dunes of the hot sands that are her skin, grounding the bright, resplendent notes that shine under the unrelenting light she holds within her. Gerhard mumbles, taking in Orianna’s aroma, intoxicated by the medley of tones; sand and wind, water and respite.

Orianna is drifting on the winds of her feelings too, her hands tracing patterns down his back and along the rolled up sleeves of Gerhard’s shirt, the smile lingering on her lips. As the two linger in their embrace she notices in the heat of the afternoon sun, Gerhard carries with him the scent of a man surrounded by ink and paper, by oak and leather.

The ink that stains his fingers, the dust to dry it, carry notes of metal and sand; sharp, lingering in the back of her nose, but with an all so slight floral tone from the pigment. His clothes and skin carry the scent of many days spent amongst the shelves, and many days spent in the wild. The oaks and mahoganies of the forests he explores; the leather of a long day in the field, searching for the next big discovery. In the later afternoon sun, there is a slight musk as well: gentle, and layered, and safe.

That’s why, when her fingers reach his left forearm and feel something, a difference in texture, the serene peace that has settled over them under the yew tree shatters. Orianna looks down, curiosity and trepidation mixing together as she sees a silver band encircling Gerhard’s forearm.

“What is this?”

“What’s what?” Gerhard says, unclear what has caused Orianna to pull away. He follows her gaze to his left arm, where her fingers trace the thin band of silver that marks him as a chosen of the Staircase.

“Oh, right. That.” He rubs a thumb along it, plucking it as though it were a string, though today it does not see fit to vibrate. “It’s… er… well it’s a mark from the Staircase.”

Orianna studies his face, trying to read it like the books she enjoys so much, attempting to understand it like the stories she has known from childhood, the ones that hold lessons and teach you the ways of the world.

“It is like your bow.”

She glances over to the Call, her brow thoughtful as she processes the change of her emotions. That’s when she notices the bottles Gerhard had brought for their picnic were still strewn amongst the roots.

“Will you tell me more about it?” Orianna asks, lightly stroking his arm. “And perhaps, whilst you do, we could enjoy the picnic you brought us,” she adds, holding up a bottle with her tail, a small but encouraging smile on her lips.

Gerhard returns the smile, reaching back to pull the basket closer. He removes the small cloth covering the contents, revealing a small assortment of cheeses, meats, and fruits. “With everyone leaving the city… it was the best I could do under short notice,” he confesses, plucking a grape off the stem and savouring it in a single bite while holding another out for Orianna to take.

He withdraws two small glasses, too, offering them up to Orianna to fill, a smidge jealous of the extra dexterity a tail allows.

“When I first… stumbled upon the Staircase,” he says, Henri’s name feeling uncomfortable to speak, “I… didn’t go through, initially. But as it closed, I stuck my arm through, trying to… trying to pull Henri back.” He casts a quick glance at Orianna as he says the name. “It closed around my arm, and left me with this.”

Orianna has poured their drinks and is offering Gerhard his glass when he mentions Henri. She wished hearing it didn’t make her feel… she didn’t know what. It wasn’t quite jealousy. That was never an emotion that Orianna understood. But it was something negative and she wasn’t sure why.

“I see. It is a kind of mark then, yes? And it has been with you since the beginning of your journey?”

He takes the glass, gently, replacing it with a small bit of cheese. He takes a sip before laying back on his elbows, beckoning Orianna to join him.

“It’s a mark, yes. A reminder of where I’ve been.” And, unsaid, a reminder of where I must go.

He tries to change the subject. “Why here, Orianna? Why the Dusk Yards, why this yew?”

She rests back beside Gerhard, popping the cheese into her mouth followed by the grape from earlier, giving a satisfied, “Hmm,” at the two foods mixing together.

“Before everyone started to leave this was one of the quietest places in Daring that wasn’t inside the halls of the Academy. I liked that. A lot of secrets are hidden amongst those who rest. And…” Orianna hesitates a little, Gerhard noticing her tensing. “…it reminds me of my best friend.”

As soon as she says the words she relaxes again almost like she wasn’t sure what was going to happen and when nothing did, all was well.

Gerhard places a hand on hers, giving it a light squeeze. He turns to look at her. “Tell me about them.”

“Her name is Nim,” she starts. She twists her hand to lace her fingers with Gerhard’s, the slight coarseness of his fingers familiar to hers, almost like handling a book. It gives Orianna encouragement, and her mood brightens.

“Technically she is my cousin, but growing up together Nim was more like a sister to me, always finding ways to make me laugh, and pushing boundaries, much to my aunt’s chagrin. When we were little, after I moved in with them, to cheer me up, Nim convinced me to go exploring the Grand Archive.”

The words so far had come easily, no memories blocked or words tying up on her tongue. There was slight resistance at the end but not much. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t being too specific…

“I had only been there twice before, both times with my father. He was very adamant about not going exploring by myself. Nim’s logic was if we go together then we’re adhering to the rules.” Orianna shakes her head and chuckles. “We nearly got in trouble so many times because of that as children. But she’d never abandon me even if we did. We would always face things together. Nim has always been brave, braver than me in so many ways…” An unexpected tear falls down her cheek, startling her.

“Ah,” Orianna says, surprised and embarrassed. “This is the first time I’ve talked about… home.”

Her memories begin to fog over and the increasingly familiar feeling of trying to hold on to smoke as it curls away into nothing causes a few more tears to fall. Orianna turns away, wiping at her face.

“I’m sorry.”

Gerhard reaches into the basket, withdrawing a small chequered cloth that he hands to Orianna. The fabric is soft, with a light scent of the citrus it had been nestled next to. He says, in a small voice, “You do not have to apologise for what is not your fault,” the words an echo of the comfort she showed him before.

The light on her cheeks from where the tears fell glistens as Orianna smiles, recognising the words he says to comfort her. Orianna gratefully accepts the cloth, dabbing at her eyes.

He pushes a little further, unsure if it is telling him that is making it difficult, or if it’s something… else.

“Where is home for you, then?”

Orianna’s lips part to speak but no sound comes out. She sits there, frozen for a moment, then she exhales, almost like she had been holding her breath. Looking into his brown eyes, Gerhard can tell Orianna wants to say something — she even seems about to — but something is stopping her.

“West of the Sunset Spine,” she eventually blurts out. She seems to be pushing past something to say more. “From the desert some here call the Scorching Badlands.”

“You mean… Kundar? Or somewhere near Harnash? Is everything okay, Orianna?” Gerhard hands her a water skin. Maybe she’s thirsty in this summer heat, and it’s hard to speak?

She shakes her head but it’s unclear which question she is saying no to, or if she is saying no at all.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just-… It is difficult for me to tell you about things that are-.. Not that I don’t want to tell you. I do! It is for their-… My protection…”

Orianna does take the waterskin and takes a small sip of the cooling waters. It helps to calm her a little.

Gerhard looks at Orianna, her struggle plain on her face, but he can find no reason not to believe her. She does genuinely wish to tell him about her home but something is preventing her from saying more. Perhaps magical interference? He cannot say for sure but something of that nature would fit well with the effect this conversation is having on her. It is simply just… difficult.

A question for a different day, then.

“Home for me is Waterdeep,” he pivots, trying to navigate them back to safer territory. “Far across the sea.”

“Oh, I have heard of this city,” Orianna says, grateful for the change in direction of their discussion. “It is a very large city isn’t it? What about your parents? Do they still live there?”

“The Crown of the North,” Gerhard replies, adopting a more regal tone. “It’s big, yes. Bigger than Daring Heights.”

At the mention of his parents, he smiles inwardly at a fond memory. “My mother is still there, yes, probably still keeping the wheels in motion at Fitzroy Manor.”

He gives Orianna’s hand a squeeze, but not from sadness. “My father… we laid him to rest years ago now.”

“Oh.” She holds his hand closer. “I hope your father’s passing did not leave too much sadness for you and your mother…?”

He smiles at Orianna’s concern, shaking his head no to reassure her. “It was a blessing in many ways. He had been… unwell. For a long time. And now, well… he is at peace.”

He chuckles, to himself, peering up into the branches of the yew. “I do wish he could see me now, though. Not too bad for a fishers’ son.”

Orianna tilts her head to the side, studying Gerhard’s profile, memorising the lines between his nose, lips and brow. The light hits him just right and parts of his dark hair glows a warm orange whilst the rest get deep like onyx.

“If your father was a fisherman then what does your mother do? You mentioned a manor. Is Fitzroy your last name?”

“Ah.” He stammers, realising that he has said too much, has steered their ship into treacherous waters.

“She’s… she’s the head of staff at the manor. For the Fitzroy family,” he says, his words leaving room for something he is not saying.

As Gerhard says the name ‘Fitzroy’, Orianna can tell that he hesitates. His eyes look to her, briefly, checking for a reaction before he continues.

“So what made you decide to pursue archeology? Did you study at one of the schools in Waterdeep?” Orianna asks, not quite picking up the meaning behind the look Gerhard just gave her.

Gerhard samples a small slice of cured ham, holding out some more for Orianna to take. She is radiant in the light, he thinks to himself. The rays bouncing off of her scales, the way they twinkle as she shifts next to him, remind him of the stars of the night sky, and he begins to think what constellations he could find if he were to…

He takes a drink, looking away from Orianna briefly to hide the blush in his cheeks. Surely it’s just the wine?

“A few things, I suppose. My early days were spent learning at the local temple. But then Father got injured, and fell sick, and… his boss,” Gerhard hesitates slightly, finding the right description, “enrolled me in the Academy.”

“From there,” he continues, “I sort of… fell into it. I’ve always been alright with languages, and… well, there’s few others to bother you when you’re excavating an old ruin.”

He turns back to Orianna, holding a small orange that he begins to peel, offering a slice to her. “What about you? What made you become an Archivist and Scholar?”

“It was a bit of an unusual situation,” Orianna says, accepting the fruit and cured meats gratefully. Gerhard really was good with more than his hands. He seemed to know which flavours to pair together so that each bite of food he handed to her was like a dance to her taste buds.

“My people have Callings, things they are meant to do. We are not many, you see, so everyone is integral to the upkeep, safety and study of... where we live. Our leaders See where each of us are meant to be but I wasn’t Seen for a long time. Instead of spending my days idle I chose to follow in my father’s footsteps. The Chief Archivist did not seem too thrilled with my decision at first — remember, Nim and I would find ways to sneak in and explore where we should not? But when Nim got her Calling the Chief Archivist thought it would… work out.”

She has finished the bits of food he gave her and is about to take a drink from her wine, holding the glass in front of her, her starlit eyes shining over the rim of her cup as Orianna says, “This idea that advanced learning is something one has to pay for is strange to me. We don’t have that where I’m from. Is it common for families not your own to pay for such things?”

Gerhard listens closely, physically and emotionally, amazed at the differences between the two of them.

“A Calling,” he says. “I suppose you could think of the Lords of Waterdeep as a sort of Calling, though in that case.. it’s the Lords deciding that their own children should rule, and what scraps they will throw to the others.”

He takes a sip. “The temples in Waterdeep, usually those dedicated to Oghma, provide free education to all, but you’d never become a Lord there. I nearly didn’t go, if Mother had not forbidden me from sailing.”

He smiles, mainly to himself. “Instead, I got to attend one of the finest schools in the city, which never happens for commoners, learn alongside my future masters, and then throw it all away to go dig in the dirt,” he says, the last phrase carrying the voice of a teacher he once had.

“I’d say that I made my own Calling, but I think we’re much the same. I am where I am because of my family.”

“The person who told you that you were throwing it all away was wrong, by the way. Not to say if you wanted to become a sailor you couldn't have but... the world wouldn’t be the same if you didn't choose the path you did, by virtue of your family.”

Orianna says the words so sincerely, leaning on her right elbow to support her as she looks at Gerhard, the light of the sun through the yew tree’s branches casting hypnotising patterns on her shimmering skin and scales.

It is her turn to look up towards the light, her gaze going distant, seeing or remembering something other than what is in front of her. “In a way, I ended up following the path of both my fathers. Though I chose to be an Archivist, the Cosmos was not content to let things lie. She gave me a vision that I… still do not understand. But the moment it happened my life changed.”

Gerhard leans in, turning his chest to face her as he places a hand on her bare shoulder, his left arm mirroring Orianna’s. His palm slowly strokes her skin, his fingers dancing over the scales as they glitter beneath the leaves.

“This was your Calling, was it?”

Orianna's gaze falls back to the earth to where Gerhard's hand rests on her body. She has stopped thinking about how warm it is. She holds the light of the stars within her — Grougaloragran said so himself and she knew he did not lie about that. What are the stars if not radiant lights of cosmic fire?

“Yes,” Orianna says, her voice breathy in a way that tells more about her feelings than she has said aloud since Gerhard came. She follows the line of his hand, up his arm, past his lips and up to his eyes.

“I thought I would not be blessed by the Cosmos but when it happened I felt… frightened. It meant I had responsibilities beyond me and my family — to my people, to the Realms. My father, his name is-… was Thaneni… he knew his purpose from a young age, had known where he would go and what he would be.” She looks to the side, unable to keep hold of his gaze, the discomfort of her uncertainty rising as she told Gerhard this story. “But he was gone by the time I was Called, and though I learned what I could, I wished I could learn from him…”

Orianna was too focused on the man lying across from her and how she felt a connection with him she had not felt even when speaking to Ilthuryn about the Stars and her past. They were two very different people, this man and this tiefling, and yet they were blessed, chosen, marked by two forces that were beyond their comprehension for reasons unknown.

The Cosmos can be a cruel mistress sometimes…

Slowly, her eyes return to Gerhard’s.

…but perhaps, in Her cruelty, there is a purpose, a reason for my being here.

Gerhard leans in, closing the remaining distance between them with a bit more confidence than before. He stops a hair’s breadth away to stare deep into Orianna’s eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but he is hesitant, unsure of what to say to ease her mind.

“I am glad our paths have brought us together. And though I do not know much about… where you are from, or what the Cosmos would ask of you, I want to help.”

Once again, Orianna is drawn in, her heart aching in ways it has never hurt before. The only way to make it stop is to tell Gerhard how much his words, his offer means to her.

She closes her eyes for a moment, breathing in the essence of him, that comforting musk that he emanates and makes her feel so safe. Feeling his embrace and the response from her own body, she tilts her head to the side, instinctually somehow knowing the next steps. The air around them gets hotter as Orianna presses herself into Gerhard, her lips finding his, still touched with the sweet wine they have been drinking. Her hands pull him in, running up and over his arm again, feeling that silver band and then just his skin. Just Gerhard. Just him. Spectrums of light flash across her mind and through her chest as Orianna tells Gerhard in no uncertain terms that she too is glad their paths have brought them together. That she will tell him more about her, as she hopes he will open up more to her.

But most of all, Orianna lets him know that she wants him here, beside her, and that they will figure out the mysteries of their two callings… together.

---

After her vision, the next morning, head pounding a little probably from bumping it on the floor when she collapsed, Orianna makes her way over to the Three Headed Dragon, asks the inn-keep which room Gerhard is staying in, climbs the stairs and lightly knocks on his door.

“Hmm? Yes, who is it?” comes the tired voice from the other side.

“Good morning, Gerhard,” is the soft muffled reply from a familiar accented voice. “Did I wake you? I can wait downstairs if you need some time…”

Behind the door comes the sound of shuffling, of frantic cleaning and something heavy landing on the floor with a thud. Gerhard mutters, unintelligible through the wood, before opening the door in a single fluid motion.

“Orianna,” is his breathy greeting. He’s dishevelled, his eyes tired and unfocused. His hair is a mess that he runs a hand through, trying to tame. His shirt lies partially buttoned on his chest, but she can tell that he's missed one or two — the collar is askew, a button missing its partner.

Her gaze trails down, a surprised flush on her cheeks as she gets lost on the path they take, her mind beginning to wander.

“Hi,” she simply says, smiling softly, bringing her eyes back up to his face. She giggles a little, checks down the hall before asking, “May I come in for a moment?”

“Oh!” he replies, silently kicking himself. “Yes, please.” He stands aside to hold the door open, waving her in from the hall.

She nods and steps in.

“Did you… sleep alright?” Orianna asks, noting the slightly bleary look to him.

He rubs an eye, shutting the door closed behind her. The room she steps into is simple. Modest. A bed, a window, a desk, a chair. Books and parchment, some loose and some neatly folded, lie stacked on the desk, a discarded quill and some spilled ink lying upon some scraps. His cloak hangs lazily on his chair; his bag lies at its feet. The Call, shining silver in the morning light that breaks through the small window, lies propped against the wall by the bed, an easy arm's reach away.

“I slept… alright. That bull elephant really did a number on me.” In saying that, he starts, his tired mind catching up. “H-How are you? Are you okay?” He steps towards her, a hand out.

Orianna doesn't respond to his offered hand. Her eyes have been caught by the Call and a stillness that inhabits her stiffens her whole body.

“I…”

Her breaths are short, sharp and quick as the silver shifts over the curve of the upper limb. In it she sees eyes, a dark haired man with alabaster skin, the cries of the stars above.

“…”

Orianna makes herself turn away, reaching for his hand, for a lifeline, something to ground her in the here, in the now. When she looks at Gerhard her eyes are wide, like a deer’s.

“I’m not sure,” she answers truthfully.

He holds her hand tight, an anchor that draws him to her. His other hand, he moves towards her waist, a mote of silver skipping between his fingertips.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Was it the elephant? Please, let me…”

His eyes search hers, fear welling in his throat. Did he scare her yesterday, in the midst of battle? He didn’t mean to… he was scared, and she was hurt, and he…

He swallows. “I want to help.”

A pressure builds at the base of her skull as she shakes her head, filling the space in his arms like she has always meant to be there.

“I know you do.” She rests her hand on his chest, feeling more present and in herself with each breath. “And I want you to,” she adds smiling. It fades quickly though. “You’re going to that fort, yes? I heard whispers from the Heights this morning from the other Scholars that’s where the final confrontation will be.”

He nods, pulling her closer. He breathes her in, his oasis in the desert.

“I was going to come see you today, before I left. I was going to ask if… if you would come with me.”

Her breath catches in her chest as she rests her head into the crook of his neck. There’s a small sigh in Gerhard’s ear. It almost sounds like a sob.

“I would follow you anywhere,” she confesses in a soft voice. “To the battlefield of this horrible invasion, to places far and unknown... even across time…”

The words pouring out of her surprised Orianna. She didn’t know she would say them until they were already out there.

“But…” She pulls back a little to look into his eyes, earthen colours of brown, honey and green calling to her. “…I must stay here at the Academy. So many people left in the last few days whilst we were away… They need all the help they can find.”

The pain of saying those words manifest as glistening tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Gerhard’s heart swells at her words, bolstering his spirit. The ink black fear seeps in, too, that she will remain. That she will be far away from him.

That he won’t be able to help her, if she needs it.

The whisper that escapes his lips comes from deep within, a longing that he cannot contain.

“Ask me to stay,” he says, a thumb rising to meet the tears falling from her eyes. “Ask me to stay, and I will.”

Orianna leans into his touch closing her eyes as every fibre of her being calls, sings, begs for her to say the words, Stay with me.

But from the depths of her mind, from the base of her skull, where the dull ache has grown into a band of pain rising up and over her head, Orianna Sees the vision again, the spiral/stacks, the staircase that leads up/down, and the figure that calls her name, his mockingly polite smile as he hands her a letter written by the hand of the man she is falling in love with.

“I want you to stay with me, Gerhard,” Orianna begins, fitting into his embrace just like before. She feels the band along her head tighten a little and she winces. “But-… I want you to want to stay with me, too.” She looks into his eyes, willing her words to be clear and true. “If you do not go, if you are not there to help them, it will be harder for you, for us… later on.”

The release of the pressure across her head nearly sends a shudder through her. All Gerhard can perceive to tell something has happened is the hair on her legs is now standing on end.

Gerhard nods again, knowing that she speaks the truth. He holds her close, tight. It doesn't stop his fear, won't calm his worries, but…

He notices the wincing, her hair on end. He pulls back slightly, trying to get a good look at her, his palms on her shoulders.

He doesn’t want to ask, is afraid of the answer, but he needs to know.

“Did the stars tell you something? About what would happen if… if I didn’t go?”

“No no I Saw-” She stops herself, biting her lip, cursing herself for saying too much. Has she said too much?

Orianna lowers her gaze to the space between them and takes a breath. It's too late now and she doesn’t want to lie to Gerhard.

“What I Saw wasn’t about this time.” Her mouth opens, then she closes it. Opens again. Closes again. Then, finally, she continues. “When I awoke from my Vision, I felt… if I am selfish here, if I tell you to stay this time, that when it does matter you won't be able to do what you need to…”

She looks up, her hands clasped, fingers twined tightly together, the worry for what her words will do to Gerhard manifesting in a white knuckled grip.

This time.

Gerhard’s mouth is dry. They had avoided talking about it, avoided even thinking about it, but it had arrived all the same.

He places his hands on Orianna’s, slowly prying apart her grip until it is his hands that she squeezes. He meets her eyes, tears welling in his own, searching them for more answers. He finds only more questions.

“Do… Do I…”

His voice is hoarse, the words thick and slow in his mouth. He can’t ask, won’t ask, shouldn’t know.

Do I come home?

Instead, he pulls Orianna’s head into his shoulder, his hands running through her hair, pulling through the white and blue locks. A whisper is all he can manage.

“Please be careful. I… I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Orianna’s grip on his crumpled shirt is tight, her embrace even more so. Her lips press into his neck, kissing the soft pace where his beard ends and his skin begins.

“I will be. We will find one another again, once this is done. I will find you. So long as there are stars in the sky. Always,” she promises on a breath quieter than the wind over a falcon’s wing.

Falling in love is much like falling asleep.

Sometimes it is easy; a feather pillow after a long day, the embrace of silken sheets.

Sometimes it is brief; a quick nap in the carriage between towns, a parting upon reaching your destination.

Sometimes, no matter how much you beg, plead, pray, it will not come; a fitful night spent staring at the ceiling, sunken eyes and dour looks come morning. Wondering if it will ever come again, if this is it: if all nights will be spent alone in the waking world, unable to dream.

And rarer still, falling in love is much like waking up. A sudden nap at your desk in the library; the giggle of a tiefling woman, bright as the north star, waking you from your slumber. A seat amongst the shelves, books piled around, the smell of peppermint waking you from your nap, a tea in beautiful porcelain placed next to you by unknown hands. A knock on the door, waking you from your slumber; a longing, a kiss, a promise to come home.

---

The solid wooden door closes behind the two of them with a click, and suddenly they are back. Back in the rooms where Gerhard had been keeping his vigil. Back in the rooms where their hearts opened up to each other, where promises had been made, where promises had been kept.

Alone, and together, once more.

Gerhard sinks to the floor, his back sliding against the smooth wood as he comes to rest at the bottom. A hand, idle and piloted by the part of his brain that still thinks of himself as he was then and not now, reaches back, searching for a longbow that needs adjusting to find only air. He turns his head to look, confused, before his thoughts catch up with his reality, placing a hand on his pocket instead and the brilliant quill that it holds.

The other hand, he holds out to Orianna. “Welcome home.”

She looks around. Everything is as she left it. Not a thing out of place. Like she had never gone, like the whole ordeal was a horrible dream, a vision, one she was finally awake and free from.

The tight grip she had on the Star Cradle finally loosens. The staff clatters to the floor, its crescent crystal ringing as it strikes the wood. Slowly she turns around, taking the shakiest breath as her hand reaches out for Gerhard’s, her lifeline, her tether. The moment their fingers touch her legs give out and she collapses down, shaking.

Orianna stays like that, hair wild and unkempt, hiding her face in a curtain of shimmering starlight. Growing concerned, Gerhard leans forward but she is already lifting her gaze up, tears raining down over the brilliance of her smile.

“We’re home.”

Gerhard meets her smile, tears of his own beginning to well in his eyes as he blinks, the memory of their awful ordeal already fading in the radiant light of her presence.

“Come here.”

With both hands, he reaches out to her, pulling himself next to her on the floor. His legs he rests on either side of her, wrapping around her, pulling her close to his torso. “We’re home.” He reaches a hand up to smooth her wild hair, careful not to tug on any knots. “We’re home.”

They stay like that for a long while, Orianna with her eyes closed, listening to the steady sound of air passing between Gerhard’s lungs, the rhythmic beating of his strong heart. Her heart. Her imi-ib.

“You slept in here,” she says eventually. Her eyes had drifted open and she perceived the slightly rumpled look of the cushions of the small sofa, realising the shape she saw was of him in its folds. She turns her head to look up at him, the hand that isn’t entwined with his, coming up to touch his face. “Why?”

Embarrassment rises in his ears, shading the tips a light pink as he hesitates to meet her eye. “I- Well- I-” he stammers, those original feelings coming back fresh: the knowing he shouldn’t stay, the crushing desire to be here, where the room pulses with her memory.

“I- I missed you. And… and I meant to stay only for a moment, but… I couldn’t bear to leave.” He looks around the apartment, his eye catching on the small mementos of his stay. Books stacked carefully on the desk, their titles referring to what lies under the earth instead of what spins above it. A glass, carefully washed and put back in a slightly different place amongst the other dishes. A cloak, the contents long moved, hung by the door.

“I’m- I’m sorry, this is your home, and I…”

A finger comes to rest over his lips, quieting their movement. Violet eyes fall to their soft curve, lingering in their contemplative bow before lifting up to windows of warm, earthen brown.

“This is our home, imi-ib,” Orianna says. “You are just as much a part of this place for me, as I am for you.” A flush starts to creep up her neck, turning her periwinkle skin a deeper shade of indigo. She hesitates, but then, slowly sits up, hands trailing down his arms to grasp his hands. As Orianna stands up she pulls Gerhard to his feet.

The flush manifests on her cheeks and a slight shimmering can be seen in the scales across her chest. Orianna looks over herself, realising just how dishevelled she is. Despite the exhaustion she feels a thrum of excited energy she almost doesn’t know what to do with. Her ears burn and she worries at her lower lip nervously before meeting his gaze. Unconsciously her eyes flicker over to the right, towards another door.

“W-would you, maybe, want to-”

MROOW.

The sudden sound startles her so much that Orianna gives a yelp of surprise.

Gerhard’s hands grip hers, a cautious, reassuring squeeze that he follows with a small nod and a smile. He looks down to their feet, smiling at the guest that has wandered up to greet them. “Maurice, that is no way to announce yourself.”

The rumpled brown tom sits at their feet, a paw raised to his mouth as he licks it clean. His teeth dig into a claw, pulling at it as he sits and waits for his two caretakers to realise their mistake.

“Oh! What day is it?” Gerhard, afraid to let Orianna go for even a moment, releases just a single hand from hers, motioning towards the kitchen. “I left him some food, and the window was ajar, but…” The empty bowls that meet them tell the story. “Ach, I’m sorry Maurice, here, let me…”

As Gerhard begins to try to prepare some food for Maurice, the impatient tom winding his way between the man’s legs so he nearly trips several times, Orianna cannot help but giggle, which turns into a chuckle, which becomes a muffled laugh as she takes her hands back in a poor attempt to hide what she is doing. Just when she thought she was safe and the wave of amusement was passed, both the man and the cat stop to look at her, the former confused, the latter indignant for distracting the one who was about to feed him. This only serves to make her laughter come back harder.

“I’m sorry- Haha! I just- Hehehe- Oh Cosmos above-” Orianna catches herself on the back of a chair, the laughter doubling her over.

“What is it, my love?” Gerhard takes a step further towards her, tutting at Maurice as the tom insists on being underfoot. Seeing her giggles only increase at his struggle, he puts the pieces together. “Ah! I see how it is.” He smiles wide at her happiness, at the levity that fills the air. “Well, maybe you should try! I’d like to see how you do with this hungry beast treading on your hooves!” He holds out a hand to her. “Come, show me what I’m doing wrong.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re doing anything wrong, imi-ib,” Orianna says, taking his hand. She takes a tentative step forward as Maurice darts under her cloven foot, following the dish that still has yet to be put down. The tom makes a playful swipe at her dirty skirts and Orianna yelps again, but this time in playful delight.

“Here, pass me the food,” she says, looking down at the cat, her voice becoming a purring growl. Orianna makes a few more noises in her throat as Gerhard passes the dish to her, but Maurice is not willing to wait for words spoken to him, in common or in his own tongue. There’s another swipe of his paw, this time with a claw just poking out before Orianna gets to setting the dish down.

She sighs, a little dip between her brows. “Normally that works. Guess I’ve been out of practice for…” The words trail off and her eyes unfocus. For a moment, Orianna seems okay. Then she closes her eyes tightly, fists clenching as it all comes rushing back at her.

“Orianna?” Gerhard steps forward, moving quickly to place his hand at her elbow, to be there to steady her if she needs it. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He’s not sure what she needs, and his body language shows it. His other hand nervously hovers at her side, unsure if she wants his touch. His feet rock beneath him as he shifts his weight forward and back.

“I’m here. You’re safe. We’re home.” He keeps murmuring, his voice low, trying to be the comfort that she needs. He tries to adjust her attention, to shine a light on the shadow that darkens her brow. “Look. Maurice seems to appreciate you feeding him.”

Orianna glances down to see Maurice is completely ignoring them now that he has food. Typical cat behaviour. It does little to help her though, despite how much she knows Gerhard wishes it would.

“How long… How long have I been gone?” she asks in a small voice.

Gerhard swallows. “Ah…” He gestures for the chair that Orianna had gripped moments before, the mood wholly different as he pulls it forward. As she sits, he crouches before her, his hands up on her lap holding her own. His face, turned up to look at hers, searches for answers. Searches for the truth to the question she asks.

Where he brought me, I… I don’t know how long it has been.

Every word she spoke to him just days before remains etched into his memory. And now, after seeing what Mister had done… “Orianna… it wasn’t long. Not at all. Just over two tendays.”

She tilts her head. “So little time…” Again, her eyes fall away from him as part of her retreats into memories. “It felt longer… There was no way for me to know how much time had passed… I cannot describe it, the feeling of existing without the passage of time. It’s-…” Her hands grip him tightly. With great effort Orianna pulls herself back from that vast ledge.

But part of her knows. Part of her will always know what resides there, just beyond the-

“Kiss me, Gerhard,” Orianna says abruptly. “Hold me close in your arms and help me find my place again, here… in our home.”

His lips find hers, the hunger of his time without her abated by their sorrow as he leans forward, his hands finding her thighs before moving to her shoulders and head as he moves up further to meet her where she sits.

He pulls back for a moment, his forehead leaning on hers, his fingers running streams through her hair. He smiles, as hard as it is to with so much pain hanging in the air, but he cannot help it.

“Yes.”

He kisses her once more, deeply, drawing her into him further as her hands find his chest.

“To whatever you were going to ask before. To whatever you will ask next.”

He pulls her to her feet, embracing her fully in the middle of their home.

“Yes. For you, anything.”

If any blessing was to be found in the long, cold nights that they had spent apart, it was that each morning that followed was savoured as though it was plucked, cool and ripe, from the nearest tree and bit into with relish. Each dawn the rising sun greeted the two lovers as they continued the process of finding themselves and each other, and each ray of morning light helped to burn away the sharp edges of their memory.

This morning, the sun long having risen and bathed Daring Heights in its warmth, Gerhard and Orianna stroll towards Graveside, arm in arm. The clothes that they wear, simple and light in the urgently arriving heat of the summer afternoon, reflect their hearts; the easy smiles that they wear signal to all that the two lovers had found their home once more.

The great yew tree, a constant in their ever-shifting world, stands proud in the middle of the Dusk Yard as the two approach. From a basket that hangs loosely from the crook of Gerhard’s elbow, he withdraws a small chequered blanket, spreading it out at their feet before gesturing for Orianna to sit.

“Not that I am seeking to be rid of you any time soon imi-ib,” Orianna begins as she settles down on the blanket. With a casual wave of her hand she druid crafts some irises into bloom, “But have you thought about if you’d like to visit your mother in Waterdeep? You said before it has been some time since you’d seen her. Perhaps she would like to see you…?”

A soft wind dips under the tree, carrying the buttery-soft, smooth and skin-like scent of the flowers, their powdery aroma reminding both of them of the freshly-baked bread they have in their picnic basket.

Gerhard lowers himself to the blanket next to her, a small smile at the magic he sees Orianna weave next to them. The basket falls to the ground with a small pat, and as he removes his arm from the handle to expose their lunch to the air, he adjusts some of the cloth to keep their warm loaves covered.

“I- I’ve been thinking about it. I wrote to her yesterday, to tell her that Henri is safe now. To Emil, too, but…” He leans back onto his hands, breathing the rich air deep, his eyes closed as he casts his mind back across the sea. “It’s… hard. She writes back, but we didn’t… she wasn’t happy when I left. Neither of them were. And part of me wonders if I was to go back now, a different man…”

He looks over to Orianna, holding a hand out for hers. “It’s been about a year, actually. It was autumn when I arrived in Port Ffirst, looking for work.”

“A lot can change in a year,” she says, taking his hand and lacing her fingers through his. “Thoughts, feelings, motivations for keeping one’s distance.” She lifts their entwined hands up to her lips to dust his knuckles with a shower of kisses. “Reasons to stay.”

Her eyes glow a little brighter for a moment… Or perhaps it was the way the sunlight casts itself across her face through the branches of the tree that makes Gerhard think they do.

Orianna lowers their hands and peers into the basket, selecting a plump and fuzzy peach. “What about Henri? Marto paid for his rooms at the Gilded Mirror, yes?” she asks, before her sharp fanged teeth pierce the supple skin. The fruit explodes in her mouth and there’s a soft sound of contented happiness as she sucks the excess juices.

Gerhard’s heart soars at her happiness, as her eyes close tight to savour the peach. A quiet giggle escapes his lips as he watches the juice drip down her chin, and he withdraws one of the small cotton cloths from the basket, handing it to her as a hand covers his own mouth. Orianna’s lower lip sticks out in an imitation of a pout, but not for long as she has to dab at the peach’s juice or else risk it getting on her clothes.

His slightly shaking shoulders subside, and he withdraws a peach for himself, too. “Yes, Marto… I owe him for that. For many things.” The last few words are muttered into the flesh of the peach as he takes a bite of his own. “The Gilded Mirror will suit Henri fine, though I did wonder if he should visit the Healing Pool instead…”

He shakes his head. “Maybe I should have been to see him already. But…” Gerhard’s head casts to the sky, watching the few birds flit between the branches above. “A lot can change in a year.”

“You will see him when you’re ready,” Orianna says with an air of vatic certainty. Gerhard looks at her but her gaze follows the flight of a pair of magpies cartwheeling through the air as they make large and lazy loops towards the ground.

Looking at her, Gerhard doesn’t get any hint of the feelings she once described having. When she had read her journal to him when Mister held her captive in the Study, part of him wondered if there would be a need to have a conversation about all that she’d told him. But now, if anything, Orianna appears to be the most relaxed she has ever been when speaking about the man. Perhaps her own ordeal has left a deeper impression on her thus overshadowing what was before. Or maybe through the cathartic act of confession Orianna managed to find a way to let go of her fears and doubts towards Henri. Or maybe there are other answers she would say that’d surprise him with if Gerhard only chose to ask. But if the gentle, comforting squeeze of her fingers in his hand is any indication to go by, it confirms to him that she is not uncomfortable talking about the man he once loved.

Gerhard smiles, giving her fingers a squeeze in return as he follows her eye to the birds looping through the air. “You’re right. When I’m ready, I’ll go find him.”

The two magpies give chase to one another, each taking in turn the roles of hunter and hunted as they flit through the sky above their heads.

He turns back to Orianna, taking in the light as it dances off of the scales that decorate her arms and chest. He takes a slow bite of his peach as he watches her, the lazy gaze of a man no longer afraid to be caught looking.

Her smile precedes her question. “What?” She tilts her head a little as she looks back at him. “What is it you look at me like that for?”

His new-found boldness does not save his ears from the rush of blood, nor his cheeks from acquiring a light pink as she turns back to him, catching him in the act, a smile baring his own teeth as he returns hers.

“I’m just… happy, Orianna.” He leans forward on his elbow, closing the short distance between them a bit more. “Will you forgive me if I stare?”

“I guess…” she says, her own bashfulness manifesting in a blush on her cheeks. There’s only the slightest hesitation. Its source, the uncertainty of exploring new territory with someone she loves as Orianna leans back, allowing herself this moment to be admired. It gives her a strange giddiness that makes her smile brighter before she steals a kiss from Gerhard’s lips.

He leans into it, letting her steal from him whatever she would choose. The juice of the peach coats his lips, and as she spins back away, he savours the taste on his tongue.

“If that’s the price, I’ll gladly pay it. Though maybe next time our lunch won’t make your lips so-”

Cold.

Orianna completes her turn back to face the skies, her plaits swinging as her shoulders follow.

Floating.

He feels cold under the shade of the yew, as though the only heat that he could survive on was the brilliant blue star that spins in front of him. Cold enough to drown out the chirps of the birds as they find their roost; cold enough to drain the blood from his face and from his extremities; cold enough to send an awful shiver through his body as his eyes stare forward seeing another place, another time, another possibility.

“Orianna,” he whispers, his voice catching in his throat, as a hand reaches out for a lifeline, for something solid to grab onto.

“Yes imi-ib?” she responds still enjoying the sky and the wind and the earth beneath them. “What is it?” she asks, turning back to him.

Gerhard is frozen in place, staring ahead at her as they sit on their blanket. The peach is forgotten, the hand that gripped it loosely now relinquishing it to the chequered cotton.

For a brief moment, as her eyes turn back to meet his, an icicle of fear returns to his heart. His body tries its best to tell him that he is home, no longer walking from Study to Study. His mind, though, insists that her eyes will be glassy and dull.

But he sees them, the violet pools glowing once more with her inner light, and it is enough to claw him back. The chill is still there, but the moment passes, and he closes his eyes with a long, drawn out sigh.

Orianna has her hands on his arms, his chest, his face, repeating his name, whispering assurances, drawing him to her with her voice.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m here, we’re under the tree, our tree. I’m not letting you go, imi-ib.”

She kisses his forehead, running her fingers through his hair. The blanket is bunched up underneath them, their half eaten peaches have rolled into a dip in the roots, but none of that matters to her.

He holds her close, his arms grasping after her, needing her warmth to cool the ice that drives deep into his bones. It takes a moment, and another, of her sweet caresses and soft refrains, but he begins to melt, and thaw, and return.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” He reaches a finger up, wiping a tear as it collects in the corner of his eye; the ice must go somewhere. “You- it’s- I was reminded of…” He casts his eyes around, looking for something, anything else to look at. Anything but to tell her of what he saw, staring at the roof of the Study.

The Dusk Yard is a difficult place to avoid thinking of those that have been lost, though, and failing to find an anchor, he returns home once more, finding a different pier to moor at. “I came here, sometimes. While you were… away.” His hands hold on to her tightly, as though remembering the act could call it forth once more.

Orianna stills in his embrace. “Oh?” The sound is simple, tight, restrained.

Gerhard nods, his breathing beginning to slow and steady in her arms. “I… missed you. Andromeda and the others were looking, and I… had to stay. Stay and keep Gentleman safe.” He closes his eyes. “And so I came here. Where we…” He tries to swallow, and when he fails he reaches for a glass bottle of water that sticks out the top of the cast aside basket, removing the stopper and taking a small sip before offering the bottle to Orianna. “Where things were easier. And I sat, and I thought about… what you were doing. Where you were. If you were safe. If you… were thinking about me, too.”

She takes the bottle. “All the time…”

A ray of sunlight refracts off the water it contains and into her eyes but she doesn’t flinch. The light is blinding. She doesn’t like where this is going but Orianna cannot stop her mouth from forming the words that make the question.

“What else did you do?”

“I waited. I wrote. I…” he trails off. “I didn’t do much else.”

He’s afraid to ask, but they’ve come this far. Part of him wants to move on, to forget that any of this ever happened. He knows some, can piece together more from the star maps that were left in the other Orianna’s wake. But another part of him, the ice still thawing in the heat of the summer day, needs to know everything. Needs to know what she died doing. Needs to know if, when the River took her, if…

“W- What did you do? While you were… away?”

Orianna has become still as a mountain stone. Her mind is thrown back. Her hands become cold whilst her chest becomes hot. And she knows. She has always known. What lies just behind the starlight in her mind, the truth she can no longer-

She flinches unconsciously, dropping the glass bottle in her hand. The water spills out, soaking the blanket and the soil beneath.

“Ah, I’m- Sorry, I’ll just-”

She scrabbles to pick it up, but most of the water is gone.

“I’m sorry, Gerhard. Here- um, let me-”

Orianna moves to get up as Gerhard moves with her, trying to reassure her that everything is okay, it’s just a bit of water, nothing that we can’t clean up, here, let me move the blanket. “I’m sorry, Orianna, I shouldn’t have asked, we don’t need to talk about this, it's okay.”

“What? Oh- No. The question it’s- it’s fine, Gerhard. I just, the water it’s- our drinks we need-”

She cannot stop it. The veil of light is fading and Orianna cannot look away. She Sees it again, over and over. Slightly different every time but it happens nonetheless and she is powerless to stop it. It comes over her like the last time, a cacophony of voices, her voice, over and over before their screams — her screams — are silenced in the Void one by one.

All that remains is his laughter.

“NO!”

She shouts the word, so loud and so violently that the sound tears through her throat. Orianna doesn’t know when she fell to her knees, but their dull pain is what brings her back to the here and now — and to Gerhard.

Gerhard is there with her immediately, just as he promised he would be. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’ve got you…” he murmurs, trying his best to console her as his mind races. What have I done? he thinks to himself. Things were perfect. For what? For knowing?

“Here, sip some water, it’ll help, you’re okay, you’re home. We’re here, under the tree, under our tree.”

Orianna clings to Gerhard, shaking her head, wishing she could banish the memories, the visions, but she can’t. Not now. Not ever again. Because she remembers.

“I Saw them. Me. Their ends. My end. The coldness of the void between the stars… I felt it suffocate me. I tried to divine the stars, to See you, to get an answer that would help me stop him… but all I got… were their deaths. My death. Over and over. The other Orianna’s that he-… that Mister took.”

Even saying his name scares her as if invoking it would summon the Malevolent devil to her. That he would take her away again and this time Gerhard would not be able to find her.

That she would die feeding the birth of a new star.

“I saw them too,” is Gerhard’s sombre reply. “Each and every Study, across thousands of demiplanes. I saw them all.” He pulls her closer, his hand pulling her head into his shoulder, wrapping himself around her as best he can. “But we saved them, Orianna. All of us, together, we saved them.” Most of them.

He inclines his head down, trying to catch her eye as they sit beneath the tree, hopelessly wrapped in each other’s embrace. “Would you like to hear what they were like?”

Orianna cannot speak. She can only nod, as her hands twist into knots on his shirt. She’d gladly take any distraction at this point.

“The first one we met was much like you. She wore a blue shawl, instead. Her horns looked identical to yours, of course, but she had loops of gold and silver twisted around them. She had scales, too, but she also had a great nebula of stars tattooed to her arms. Oh, and she was in love with Derthaad.” As he delivers the twist, Gerhard tries to smile at her. The pain of that meeting had faded fast enough with time, especially as he had his love back. “I wondered if I had to worry about anything, but I suppose if there’s only one of me, that Orianna wouldn’t have had the pleasure.”

Orianna exhales. Gerhard isn’t sure if it’s a sob or a laugh as she keeps her head bowed.

“The third one, well, she was… different. Her black hood stretched up out of the wraps that she wore around her… um…” Gerhard’s cheeks go red, and he gives a quick cough before trying to gesture to Orianna’s chest. “And she wore this deep, black eyeshadow. It was…” Gerhard looks a bit sheepish, trying to play up a bit of his feelings, to lift her spirits. “All I’m saying is that you could pull it off.”

That gets her to look up confused, until she sees Gerhard’s flushed face. “Is that… something you would like? To see me dress in… ‘traditional’ companion robes?” Her answering flush lights up her whole face in a familiar blushing flame.

“Uh…” Gerhard stammers. “Well, I mean, I…”

Any ice that chilled his bones has long since been burned away by the hot flush that rises in his own cheeks.

“I mean, if you wanted to, but, uh… companion robes? I’m not- I-” He realises that he can feel her heartbeat against his chest. He realises, too, that she must be able to feel his at the same, as it beats steadily faster at the thought.

“I-It’s just, um-” Orianna tries to not stumble over her words but she finds it difficult when Gerhard’s body is speaking to her in a way that makes it hard to concentrate. “Wha- what you described sounds like the robes the Companions from the Spires of Evening wear in Ashkha. I- I never went there, myself. But Nim did once. She didn’t tell me everything, but she did say she had a lovely evening with someone who showed her- um…” The words trail off as the beating of their two hearts together becomes too loud for her to continue to speak over.

“Showed her… what?” Gerhard asks tentatively, relaxing his tight hold of her. Ashkha? he thinks to himself. “West of the Sunset Spine, from the desert some here call the Scorching Badlands,” he recalls her saying, on a day much the same as this under the same tree. He knows so little of where she is from, save for a few words carefully chosen to hide the truth from those that would seek to learn it. Even through the warm summer air, with the hot breath of her lips along his collar, hearing her talk of home focuses his mind. He wants to know more, to learn all he can about the one he loves, but he knows not to push.

They have the time, after all.

“W-Well, um… Nim didn’t tell me everything,” Orianna says, her ears burning hotter, “but the festhalls of the Spires are where my people go to find… sensual fulfilment.” Everything feels closer than before, the air, the ground, the sun, the yew tree — all of it desperate to hear more. “‘To fulfil and indulge every pleasure imaginable through the Endless Revels of Life.’”

As her eyes meet Gerhard’s, that’s when she realises it: She’s been speaking about Ashkha freely and without constraint.

“Oh,” she breathes in surprise, her lips making the perfect shape.

“R- Right. So this Orianna, this other version of you, she…” Gerhard swallows, reaching for the last few drops of water in the nearly empty bottle that lays between them. A pang of jealousy lances through his heart, a foreign, confusing feeling to him especially in the light of reality — that was someone else, walking another path.

Gerhard isn’t sure he wants to know more. Not now, at least, as they sit wrapped in each other’s arms in view of any who could walk by. He shakes his head, trying to shake the cloud that has settled between his ears.

“You… you don’t talk about home. Or, not in more than… vague allusions. Are… are you okay?”

“I think so. This is the first time I’ve been able to speak about Ashkha…” she says the name hesitantly, almost like she expects it to choke her like it has before, but it doesn’t. “I wonder what has changed.”

Worry briefly colours her face but it fades quickly as Orianna ponders the reasons.

“When you were… away, Andromeda explained that you were… out of sync with the rest of the universe. Outside of Time and Space. Tha- That’s why it took so long. To find you. You weren’t… anywhere to be found.” He sighs, unsure of the rules that bound her, and unsure still if he should let these moments stay in the past. “It’s something… magical, right? Something for your protection? And theirs? Maybe… maybe it couldn’t find you, either.”

“Perhaps,” Orianna says, still thinking. “It just means I have to be more careful, if the protection doesn’t come back. But, for now,” she tentatively smiles, “it means I can finally tell you more about my home, where I’m from. If you want to know, of course,” she adds, not wanting to seem too boastful.

“Orianna.” Gerhard smiles, planting a light kiss amongst her hairline, his arms squeezing her tight to him once more, now that they appear to be out of treacherous waters. “I want to know it all. About your fathers, about Nim. About your home.”

His fingers find her chin, and he leans back to try and catch her eye. “Everything.”

Her smile grows in brilliance, shining brighter than the sun overhead. From everything that happened, here was an unexpected gift. A chance to be really and truly known by the person she loved most in all of Creation.

“Alright. I’ll tell you. All of it.”

And so she did.

Time passes. The days are long whilst the nights are pleasant. So much of it is spent together, but even the star crossed lovers knew that not everything could be done side by side.

Orianna’s worry was if she left Gerhard for even a second, he might receive a Call from the Staircase and he would have to go, immediately, without a chance to say anything to her. This worry was hard to hear in his presence as they made their meandering way from Dagger Street where they’d just spent some time window shopping at Inkubus Tattoo. It was more like the wind through sandstone blocks in a pyramid rather than actual words or coherent feelings. But it was there, just out of earshot, in the back of her mind.

“They had some… interesting designs but… it has to feel right, I think,” Orianna says, taking Gerhard’s hand. “Nothing really stood out to me as… me.”

Their two hands fit together as though they had been moulded to each other, their fingers effortlessly interweaving in their grip as Gerhard gives Orianna’s a small squeeze, his thumb rubbing over hers in small distracted circles.

The afternoon sun finds his eyes as they wander out of the shade of the street, and he raises his other hand to block it out. “I’m sure they would help you design something, if you change your mind.” As the two find themselves at the end of the street, he looks up and down, his eyes asking his love which direction she would like to venture next. “Are tattoos popular for your people, back home?”

“That’s what these are,” Orianna says. She points to the two shimmering-white circles high on her cheeks. “I received these after my first vision, when I became part of the Seven Day Watch.”

They step out onto the main thoroughfare of the Stone Road, Orianna leading them west. There’s a thin layer of clouds obscuring the sun just enough to further diffuse the light, making the temperature in the city of Daring Heights cooler than it has been for the past tenday or so.

Gerhard chuckles lightly to himself, shaking his head at his own foolishness. “Sorry, my love. You’ve taught me so much about yourself these past few days, it seems that some of it is taking time to settle in.”

“Please, do not apologise, imi-ib. I know there has been a lot. There are probably many little things I’ve forgotten to tell you. I just hope I can say most of it before I cannot again.”

The roads of Daring Heights have nearly returned to their full glory in the shadow of the gith invasion and the young couple find themselves navigating around newly returned locals and merchants. Today, though, the journey is their destination; their slow meandering walk through to Stoneside, their hands lifting up to let children run through their arch, just adds to the joy of their day.

“Where would you like to go next? I’m not as familiar with Stoneside, I’ll admit,” Gerhard asks.

“Neither am I. But I would love to explore what the Dwarven Quarter has perhaps? I heard they have many artisans there and, well…” She pulls out a very familiar moon rock. “I was wondering if anyone would be able to turn this into something. Perhaps engrave it or sculpt it?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I hear Kavel comes this way to see Mendal these days. Maybe we will run into one of them?” He shakes his head once more, looking over to Orianna as he gives her hand a small squeeze before turning his eyes to the small stone in her hand. “To think I brought that up to the Academy observatory only a few months ago. A lot has happened, hasn’t it?”

Orianna smiles in a thoughtful manner, holding the stone closer as she reciprocates his hand squeeze. “I wasn’t entirely sure of your intentions when you brought this to me.” She tucks it back into her pouch, hand lingering there even after the snap of the buckle indicates it is closed. “I had seen you around the Academy. I had wanted to speak to you for some time. But I… didn’t know what to say besides ‘hello’.” She giggles, embarrassed. “Then, when we went to the Witching Court and I finally had a chance to talk with you I was so nervous.” She glances at him through her eyelashes before looking away, the memories of that time playing out in clear vivid colours of her mind. “It all seems so silly now…”

“Hindsight makes us all look a little silly, doesn’t it?” Gerhard smiles, pulling Orianna closer with a light tug of her hand. “I was just as nervous as you. Though maybe I wouldn’t have been if I had known where that mystery tea had come from those days I napped amongst the stacks.” He winks at Orianna, his grin turning sly. “I told myself it was a simple gift, a small token of friendship. But I think I knew better.” A playful nudge follows his light tease, and he chuckles lightly in turn.

“It was friendship… initially. And, well, it still is! It’s just there’s more now and, well, I’ve always been very good at brewing tea…” Her smile has only gotten bigger and brighter, the blush of her cheeks colouring her face as Orianna glances down to their clasped hands. “I thought I was being so subtle, but I wasn’t, was I?”

“No, I’m afraid you were as subtle as a man arriving in the evening with a souvenir from the moon.” Her smile fills Gerhard’s heart until it is fit to burst. There had been many such smiles the last few days, enough to begin to crowd out the shadows and ice that still attempt to regain lost footing. But no matter how many times he sees it, no matter how many times his perfect star shines its light upon him, it is as if it were the first.

He returns her smile, the tips of his ears burning as they talk of these early, awkward days. Of gifts given and willfully received. Of lives changed, never to be the same again. As he looks upon her, the woman who has saved his life, he knows that he is exactly where he is meant to be.

“…What do you think imi-ib?” Orianna asks, looking at Gerhard expectantly.

“I think I’m lucky, is all. Lucky that if I am to be a single soul across all possibilities, I got to be here with you.”

Orianna stares in flushed silence at Gerhard. “I-Imi-ib…” She looks around them, the bustling street and the activity of a city coming back to them before she laughs softly. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “I… I, too, feel the blessing of the Cosmos when I am with you… But what I was asking was perhaps we should head towards the Hammerfall Smithy? See, the Dwarven Quarter is over there,” Orianna says, pointing and stepping a little closer, "and well… perhaps they’ll have, uhh…” She trails off, unconsciously biting her lower lip as her eyes find Gerhard’s again.

“Oh!” Gerhard blushes as the heat spreads from his ears to his cheeks and he looks around at the throngs of people that walk around them on the street. “Oh, I thought you were aski- never mind. Yes, um, the Dwarven Quarter.” He feels the heat radiating off of her skin as she steps closer to him, and in his fluster from misunderstanding her words, he can’t help but stammer. “Let’s go, maybe it will be, um, quieter there.” He takes her hand, and begins clearing a path for them to walk across the street. “P- Perhaps they’ll have what, Orianna?”

“Um, well, maybe-” Orianna tries to dodge a running child that dashes between them, their little burst of laughter explosive and bright. A flustered governess chases the retreating child, throwing a desperate glance at anyone who might help.

“Maybe they’ll have designs they can do? Or-” Gerhard’s shoulders, always so broad, cut the perfect path through the crowd. The sweep of his hair as he turns his head, to look both ways, checking for carriages or horses, before pulling her forward towards the quieter street entrance.

“Or maybe we will find something else. I’m not sure. There’s no rush! I’m happy to, what is it, window shop today?”

“Then we shall see what the Quarter has in store.” With one final step, Gerhard pulls the two of them clear of the busy street and into the quieter space beyond. The low buildings that they slip amongst provide a welcome respite from the summer sun, still shrouded in misty clouds that tear across the sky.

As they escape the crowds, the change of pace causes them both to stumble for a moment as they find their legs once more. With Orianna’s hand still safe within his own, Gerhard turns on his heel to face her, bringing his other hand to her waist to steady them both.

Gerhard smiles at her, the hand on her hip holding tight as it lightly pulls her towards him. “Window shopping sounds delightful.”

Orianna’s hand not holding his finds its way to his bicep, feeling it tense as he pulls her closer. “Good. I’m glad. And, Gerhard…” That same hand inches up to his shoulder, enjoying the width and breadth she feels there. “I meant it. Before. The Cosmos giving me the chance to choose you has been one of the few things in my life I have done of my own volition. You are all I could ever want. I’m so glad I have you.”

Gerhard leans in, pulling his beloved to him. The shadow of the small lane hides them from all but the most prying eye, and with a quick glance around, he steals a kiss. Quick, and as private as he can manage here in the midst of Stoneside, but he cannot help it. His cheeks blush further as he pulls away, a sheepish grin on his face as he looks into Orianna's eyes.

“Sorry. I… I couldn't help myself.” His eyes fall, his embarrassment at his small display emerging on his face. “You are all I could ever want, too. More than I could have dreamt of.”

A hand lifts Gerhard’s face up so his eyes find violet pools swimming with love. “It’s alright. I really enjoy kissing you. My heart soars every time,” Orianna says, delight colouring her words. She bites at her lower lip again and before her courage leaves her, Orianna leans in and bestows another kiss upon her love’s lips.

“I love you, imi-ib,” Orianna says, smiling even as she blushes further. Then she looks around and notices a few people casting curious glances in their direction. She pulls back just enough not to be indecent, though her tail flicks from side to side revealing her enjoyment of their diversion. “Come,” she says, beginning to pull Gerhard along. “We should continue our window shopping. Oh! Wow, look at this place!”

Inside the window they pass there are incredible metal dishes, urns, and vases on display. Most have very dwarvish designs but some are decorated with other elements as well.

“Wow. Look at the intricacies there! And look, the style here, that engraving work, that must have taken hours.” Gerhard lets himself be pulled along, revelling in the giddy joy that lifts his heart. “I can’t imagine having the time for this, the filigree alone would take hours and that’s after the casting, and the polishing, and…”

He stops for a moment, looking over to Orianna with a sheepish grin. “Sorry. You can always poke me when I get too… excited.”

“If by poking you mean enjoying your excitement with you then yes, I will,” Orianna says, smiling at him teasingly as she lightly pokes him in the side. Gerhard twitches as she has hit a sensitive spot, an involuntary laugh escaping him before he tries to hide it with a clearing of his throat. Orianna giggles anew.

Gerhard’s eyes catch Orianna’s before alighting on another window beyond her shoulder. Brilliant gems of all shapes and colours fill the shelves, glinting in the sun. “Oh, wow, look at those!”

She turns and lets out a soft breath of wonder. “Oh my, those are gorgeous. Look at that geode of amethyst! I have never seen such a large piece outside of my home!”

She rushes over, leading Gerhard, marvelling at the shape of the precious gems. “Did you know that back in ancient times, gem dragons were everywhere here? And by here I mean not just the Dawnlands, but over by Kundar, the desert, the mountains, even the jungles surrounding Harnash. They haven’t been seen for some time but there are texts that say where such large deposits of precious gems are found is where these greatwyrms once called home…”

It’s her turn to stop and blush with a shy smile. “Guess I’m just as excitable as you are, imi-ib. Sorry,” she says, laughing embarrassedly.

“What a pair we make, hmm?” With a contented sigh, Gerhard wraps his arm around her waist, the two of them admiring the storefront together. Their eyes wander over the amethysts and rubies, emeralds and pearls, lingering on a few pieces wrapped in gold wire. “Does anything catch your eye? Anything that, er, stands out as you?” As he asks, Gerhard’s head leans back to observe his love, taking in the sight of her elation. “Maybe something for our home?”

“Hmmm,” she intones, thinking as she looks at the dazzling display before her. There are so many beautiful pieces, but… “I like several, but I don’t think they are in our budget right now.”

Orianna points to the price tag of the smallest bespoke piece in the window and the price tag makes Gerhard suck in his breath.

“It is good to know it’s here though! We can look at getting something later, perhaps?”

“You’re right, maybe later. Once we know how much heralding pays.” Gerhard casts one final look at the window before swinging his head from side to side, inspecting the neighbouring shops. “Until then I’m afraid it’s an Academy scholar’s wage for me.”

A shop further down, books of all sizes stacked high in the window, catches his eye, and he gestures to Orianna. “Shall we continue on then?”

She nods.

They continue to meander down the street, passing all manner of artisan shops and boutiques, every one unique and fascinating. Each one that catches their eye they would stop at and talk about what could be bought from such a place and how it could fit into their lives. Nothing was purchased, but it was nice to plan, to see their future together with each little prayer they made outside of these shrines of possibilities.

When they reached the book shop, they both slowed, marvelling at the detailing on the bound volumes of paper and parchment.

“These are quite something…” Orianna breathes.

“They are…” Gerhard’s words are quiet as he looks over the tomes, taking in the breadth of knowledge contained within their pages. There are some books of history, others of poetry, and some still of stories for young ones to hear as they lie snug in their beds. Works of fiction telling tales of lands both known and unknown sit stacked against biographies and memoirs, blurring the lines between the fantastical and the grounded.

“Do you think one day they’ll write about us?” Gerhard’s hand finds Orianna’s shoulder as he continues reading the spines of the books through the window, his mind wandering with the possibilities.

“I don’t know,” she answers. “Perhaps?”

Her gaze trails over the tomes, their titles and authors. So many untold histories. So many unknown places. But Orianna had never thought about becoming one herself. It made her uncomfortable. When others can read your life they can see your lies, your doubts, your fears — especially the ones so old they’ve become part of who you are without you even realising it. Like an old cloak you cannot be rid of.

Orianna turns away from the window, her gaze low, picking at her nails — an old habit.

Gerhard’s brow furrows, confusion and concern clear on his face as he sees the impact of his question on the mood of his beloved. His mouth opens to say something, to try to smooth the ragged edge they have stumbled into, but his jaw can only manage to open and close.

“O- Or maybe I’ll write our story, and we’ll be the only ones to read it. Something to pass the time once we are old and grey.” He re-adjusts his hold on Orianna’s arm, rotating with her as she turns back to the street. “Maurice might be a harsh critic of my poetry, though.” He smiles weakly towards Orianna, unsure of the thoughts that flit within her mind. Each day has been better than the last, but he remains wary. “We have enough books. How about that shop there?” Gerhard points further up the road, trying to redirect them away from the bookshop to a colourful building at the corner. “They appear to sell some sweets, maybe we’ve earned a snack?”

“Sure,” Orianna says, glad for the suggestion. “If they have anything lemon flavoured I would be happy with that.”

“Then I will be right back!” Gerhard begins to move away, his hand lingering on her shoulder for as long as it can as he takes the first steps backwards towards the shop. He cannot make it very far, though, before she is out of reach, his fingers slipping through the air to fall at his side.

She watches him go, her short lived smile fading away as Gerhard weaves his way through the crowd. Guilty for how she reacted wraps around her core. Her sudden change in mood brought down their shared elated state and that wasn’t what she wanted to do. But how was she to explain the self-doubt that has plagued her all her life? The same self-doubt that only grew worse the moment she had her first Vision?

Gerhard looks back at her, and she sees the worry for her in his eyes even as he smiles, before dipping into the shop. She was being nonsensical, she knew. She didn’t have to fear Gerhard judging her. Still, some habits are hard to break and Orianna wasn’t sure she was ready to let herself be seen in that way by him just yet.

One day at a time. We have eternity after all…

She is just wandering over to a stall filled with sun charms casting dazzling rainbows of light everywhere on the cobblestone street from the slowly emerging sun when the glint of delicate silver, gold and platinum catches her eye. The shop is narrow, nearly half the size of all the others surrounding it on the street, but in the window is the finest pair of rings Orianna has ever seen.

“They had these lemon drops, I haven’t had them before, but-” Gerhard’s voice returns, the crinkling of paper in his hand loud in the quiet silence in front of the small jewellery shop. “But, I fink ’ou will like ’em.” His words are jumbled and thick as they make their way past the candy he has placed in his mouth, his cheeks pulling in slightly as he sucks at the sour sweet.

He holds out the paper sleeve for Orianna, offering a sweet as he peers over her shoulder to the window that caught her eye. “What did you find?” His eyes land on the rings that sit in the middle of the display, surrounded by all manner of other jewellery. Their brilliant silver hue grabs his attention immediately, the familiar colour making him pause for a brief moment. These rings have no engravings of staircases and doorways, though: just simple bands of silver, catching the light as it reflects off of the two standing before it. “W- wow. Those are…”

“Beautiful…” she says softly. Then she blinks, coming back to the present and realises Gerhard is holding out a bag of sweets to her. “Oh!” She reaches in, taking one of the wax wrapped hard candies and untwisting it. But her gaze drifts back to the two rings as she pops the sweet into her mouth. Then the flavour hits her and her eyes widen.

“Wow! Fees are rea’ry strong.” Her cheeks pinch together as she rolls the sweet in her mouth. “Ish perfect. Fank ’ou,” she says smiling at Gerhard as her eyes drift back from looking at the window again.

“You’re welcome, my love.” Gerhard lowers his hand to the small of Orianna’s back after taking another candy for himself. His fingers catch and poke at the fabric of her jacket, swirling as he swirls the sweet around his mouth.

“They are beautiful, yes. Very… us.” As he continues to look at the rings, he notices more to the silver metal that they have been forged from. A hidden, subtle blue tint makes itself known to him the longer he looks, an accent that mixes perfectly with the rest of the silver of the band, as though it had always meant to be. “Almost as though the jeweller had-” Gerhard coughs a bit, trying to cover the light pink hue that rises in his cheeks.

“The jeweller had what, imi-ib?” Orianna asks, looking back at him, a hand coming up to his arm.

“Had, er… had made them for us.” Gerhard’s ears are burning, but he pushes forward. “They just… they remind me of us. Our story. The silver metal and the blue undertones, how they balance each other out, make each other… better.” He meets Orianna’s eye, a small smile pushing through his nervousness about what he thinks he might be saying. “Just like us.”

She looks back to the rings, now seeing the blue woven into the silver, a curious accent but one that felt so right. Like it was meant to be there.

Just like they were meant to be here, to find them.

“You’re right.” Orianna meets Gerhard’s eyes again as she turns around to face him. “Shall we get them? I feel like… maybe we should.”

“G- get them?” Gerhard’s eyes flick between Orianna’s and the rings, catching the small handwritten price in blue ink that rests beneath them. “I- uh- I would like that.” He hands Orianna the sleeve of sweets before reaching for his coin purse. “I- hmm- yes I think I have enough.” He bounces the bag in his hand as he counts a few gold pieces, grasping it tightly once he has finished.

She still manages to make him nervous, after all they had been through together. But this time, the nervousness is not about how she feels of him, nor is it how he feels about her. Both of those truths are long known, as comfortable and safe as the home that they now share. No, this nervousness is different: a leap to the other side of a ravine, knowing that he will land safely on the other side but still afraid to look down, still afraid to take that step.

Maybe that is what love is, Gerhard thinks to himself. Many small leaps, into the patiently waiting arms of another on the other side. Steps into the unknown with only the hand of another to hold against the encroaching shadows. Time, marching on and on into Eternity, and knowing that it will be okay, so long as they remain.

With a deep breath, the nervousness is gone. The leap is taken, the shadows are pushed back, and time ticks steadily forward. Gerhard holds out his other hand to Orianna, beckoning her forward. “Well then. Shall we?”

With a leap of her heart she steps forward, takes his hand, and smiles. “Yes. With you, always, yes.”