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“Ugh… who does she think she is, asking me for such ridiculous favours.”
Nefer mutters under her breath as she strides through the forest, heels crunching softly against frost-dusted leaves.
Moonlight spills through the canopy above, bathing everything in a pale, silvery glow. The sky stretches overhead in soft shades of lavender, calm and endless. Night creatures stir quietly around her.
“Hm… but she did seem different.” Nefer muses, her pace slowing. “Weaker… or maybe just exhausted.”
Her fingers curl unconsciously at her side as the memory resurfaces.
“She really thought she could hide that wound on her palm from me.” A quiet scoff escapes her lips. “Didn’t even bother to treat it properly.”
Nefer exhales, her expression softening despite herself.
“You never change, do you, Lauma? Always prioritising others before yourself.”
She isn’t even supposed to be here. At this hour, she should be at home, wrapped in blankets, asleep in her warm bed. Instead, she finds herself wandering Hiisi Island in the dead of night, all because Lauma asked—no, insisted—she needed the medicine for congenital kuuvahki sensitivity.
She thought that she would have to wait till the morning to find more medicine for Lauma, but Jahoda somehow managed to uncover a forgotten stash in the storeroom. Nefer could have easily asked her to deliver it, like she usually does. That would have been sensible.
But this time… something in Nefer refuses to let that happen.
Maybe it’s the way Lauma had quietly sat down after the encounter with the Wild Hunt, shoulders drawn tight, breath just a little too shallow. Or maybe it’s the truth Nefer rarely acknowledges that, beneath her constant irritation, she cares more than she lets on.
“Where even is she?” Nefer mutters, scanning the rocky terrain ahead. “She should be nearby… probably hiding in a cave.”
She recalls overhearing a few Frostmoon Scions earlier that day, chatting idly about their Moonchanter. About how Lauma often spends her nights alone in a cave near the Frostmoon Enclave. A rare moment of solitude for the Moonchanter, one she hardly ever allows herself.
Poor girl. With everything resting on her shoulders, she deserves more than fleeting moments of rest.
Her eyes catch on a shadowed opening nestled at the base of a cliff, half-concealed by hanging vines and frost-dusted stone.
“Ah—there.” A small, satisfied smile curves her lips. “This must be it.”
Nefer carefully makes her way down and steps inside.
The darkness envelops her at first, cool and damp, but it doesn’t last. Soft glows bloom along the cavern walls, bioluminescent plants clinging to stone, casting a gentle blue-green glow throughout the space. Strange plants unfurl delicate petals that shimmer faintly, while small creatures skitter and blink at her intrusion before retreating into the shadows.
Nefer pauses, taking it all in.
“So this is where the esteemed Lady Moonchanter spends her evenings.” She murmurs, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Honestly… it suits her.”
Hopefully she isn’t sulking again.
That discovery she made with the Traveler seemed to lift her spirits, at least a little. But, Lauma has always been difficult to read. Calm, composed people usually are.
Still, over time, Nefer has learned.
She pieced her together bit by bit, noticing the slight changes in her tone, the near-imperceptible shifts in expression that betray what she’s feeling beneath the mask. Subtle tells, but unmistakable once you know where to look.
But… that sulky expression of hers is rather cute, considering how she rarely allows herself to show anything at all.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m certain telling the truth was the right decision. Change doesn’t happen overnight, and new ideas take time to take root.”
“It feels as though a heavy weight in my chest has finally been lifted.”
There’s a pause, followed by a softer warmth.
“Please, take care of yourselves as well. If you ever need anything, do tell me. I will do my best to help.”
That’s Lauma’s voice. Who is she talking to?
Nefer slows her steps, curiosity pulling her forward. She follows the tunnel until it opens into a vast chamber, and there, at its heart, she sees her.
Lauma kneels at the edge of a crystalline lake, moonlight rippling across its surface. Animals of all kinds gather around her—deers, birds, small forest creatures—keeping her company. Her antlers have grown larger, branching outward in elegant arcs, glowing faintly as if infused with moonlight itself.
She looks… unreal.
Ethereal.
Nefer has always known Lauma was special. Among the Frostmoon Scions, her antlers were already more prominent, a quiet sign of her role as Moonchanter. But this, this is something else entirely.
She looks like a forest goddess.
Nefer exhales quietly, shaking her head. Who else would Lauma be speaking to if not animals? She has always favored their company, always brighter, more at ease with them than with people.
Lauma lifts her head, ears twitching slightly.
“Oh?” Her gaze shifts toward the tunnel, eyes bright. “It seems we have company.”
She turns fully to face Nefer. “Hello, Nefer. The animals told me of your coming. What brings you to the Frostmoon Enclave?”
Nefer scoffs, folding her arms. “Didn’t you ask me to get you medicine?” She steps forward, holding up the pouch. “Jahoda just so happened to find more in the storeroom, so I came to deliver it.”
Lauma rises from the lake, water cascading from her clothes in soft rivulets. “Thank you for your help, Nefer. I didn’t expect you to make the trip yourself.” Her smile softens. “I truly appreciate it.”
She reaches out to accept the medicine, but before she can pull her hand back, Nefer grabs her wrist.
“N–Nefer!”
Nefer lifts Lauma’s hand, eyes narrowing as she inspects it. Scars crisscross her skin, but there, in the center of her palm, is a wound still red and raw.
Nefer clicks her tongue. “Let me guess. Another person refuses to see a doctor, so you end up playing miracle healer again.”
Lauma averts her gaze. “It was necessary, Kaarina—”
Nefer doesn’t let her finish.
She pulls out the medical supplies and begins tending to the wound, her movements firm but careful. She cleans it, applies salve, then carefully wraps it.
Lauma watches her silently. “Nefer, you really don’t have to… I’m used to this. It’s only a minor scratch.”
Nefer’s hands pause for just a moment. “When will you start taking better care of yourself?” She mutters. “It bothers me to see you hurt yourself just because your people refuse proper treatment, clinging to the belief that the Moon Goddess will somehow fix everything.”
Lauma is quiet for a moment.
“I don’t blame them.” She finally says. “After everything that happened, their mistrust of the Snezhnayans is understandable. But after revealing the truth, I hope the Frostmoon Scions will begin to see things differently.”
Nefer finishes wrapping the bandage and releases her wrist. “There. Just… remember to take better care of yourself too, alright? Don’t push yourself so hard.”
Lauma looks at her hand, then back at Nefer, her eyes warm with gratitude. “Thank you, Nefer. For everything you’ve done for me.”
Nefer straightens, crossing her arms. “Just so you know, I’m not doing this for free. I still expect proper payment for my services.”
Lauma lets out a soft, amused breath. “Of course.”
Nefer tilts her head, eyes drifting back to Lauma’s antlers, still glowing faintly in the moonlight. “So, what’s with the antlers?”
Lauma hesitates for a moment before answering. “It’s an extraordinarily rare condition. It makes me unusually sensitive to moonlight, as well as the kuuvahki’s ebb and flow.”
Her fingers brush lightly against one of the glowing antlers. “I hope it doesn’t make me appear… imposing. Or distant.”
“Not at all.” Nefer replies without hesitation. “If anything, I’m intrigued.” A faint smirk curves her lips. “This little transformation of yours, or enhancement, if that’s the better term, is quite the spectacle.”
Lauma studies her face, searching for something. “You don’t think of me differently?”
Nefer meets her gaze steadily. “No.”
Relief softens Lauma’s features. “That’s good to hear.” She exhales, shoulders drooping slightly. “Though they are rather troublesome. So heavy…”
Nefer notices it then, the slight tension in Lauma’s shoulders, the careful way she holds herself, the discomfort she tries so hard to conceal. Even now, she refuses to complain outright.
Typical.
“You should rest.” Nefer says, her tone firm despite herself. “It’s late, and you’ve already exhausted yourself in the battle earlier.” She turns away. “Good night, Lauma.”
She takes only a few steps before—
“You’re… leaving?”
Nefer pauses and glances back over her shoulder, a teasing smirk forming. “Oh? Don’t tell me the great Lady Moonchanter needs me to tuck her in for the night.”
Lauma stiffens. “N-no, of course not. That’s not what I meant. I just…” She looks away, curling her hands at her side. “Never mind. Good night, Nefer. I hope you sleep well.”
Nefer stops completely.
She catches the look on Lauma’s face. It's subtle, but unmistakably disappointed.
What a pitiful look to wear on such a beautiful face, Lauma.
Tch. How am I supposed to leave you alone after that?
She sighs inwardly. You really are infuriating sometimes, but also unbearably endearing.
She must be lonely. Her people revere her, place her on a pedestal, but no one dares step close enough to truly know her. No wonder she prefers animals. They don’t see a Moonchanter. They see a friend.
Nefer exhales. “Alright. Enough of that.”
She turns back. “I suppose I can keep you company a little longer.”
Lauma blinks. “Huh? But weren’t you—”
Before she can finish, Nefer reaches for her hand. Lauma startles, but doesn’t pull away as Nefer gently guides her beneath a tall tree near the lake. Its branches draped in flowing blue moonlight that cascades like silken curtains.
“Sit.”
Lauma obeys, settling against the trunk. Nefer sits beside her, close enough that their shoulders nearly touch. Almost immediately, Lauma’s posture eases, the tension draining from her body as she leans back, eyes half-lidded.
Nefer watches her from the corner of her eye. “Better?”
Lauma lets out a quiet hum. “Mm… yes.” She smiles softly. “Thank you. Once again.”
Nefer looks away, pretending not to notice the warmth blooming in her chest.
“You know,” Nefer says quietly, breaking the comfortable silence, “you don’t have to hide yourself with me. We’re friends. Just be yourself, like you are when you talk to animals.”
Lauma tilts her head, a faint smile touching her lips. “Oh? Who would have thought the head of the Curatorium of Secrets would pick sides.” There’s gentle teasing in her voice. “Didn’t you say you’re meant to remain neutral toward all factions?”
Nefer scoffs softly. “Who says I can’t have friends outside of work?” She shifts slightly, settling more comfortably against the tree. “I’m not here as the head of the Curatorium of Secrets. I’m here as someone who cares about the well-being of her friend.”
Lauma’s eyes soften. “Who knew you had such a gentle side, Nefer.” She chuckles quietly. “You’re not nearly as intimidating as people make you out to be.”
“That’s because I’m not in work mode.” Nefer replies dryly. “I assure you, I can be very intimidating when I want to be.”
Lauma hums, amused. “Oh? You never seem to do that with me. If I recall, you often accept my requests, even the absurd ones, without much protest.” She glances sideways at Nefer. “You’re normally quite firm about what you want. Hmm… I wonder why that is.”
Nefer narrows her eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be exhausted after using your powers?” She says pointedly. “Because you look quite lively enough to bicker with me. Maybe you don’t need the medicine after all.”
Lauma laughs softly, then grows quieter. “I still do.” Her voice lowers. “It’s just… I feel better with you here. Your presence is welcome. It’s soothing. Warm.” She looks at Nefer earnestly. “You have a good heart, Nefer.”
Nefer turns her head away, cheeks faintly warm. “Just go to sleep already.” Then, more quietly, she adds. “You can rest your head on my shoulder if you want.”
Lauma blinks, surprised by the offer. “Thank you, but I must decline. My antlers would make it inconvenient, and I wouldn’t want to accidentally hurt you.”
Nefer snorts, folding her arms. “Don’t be ridiculous. You think I can’t handle a little antler poking?”
“That’s not what I meant—”
Before Lauma can finish, Nefer gently guides anyway, adjusting her position so Lauma’s head rests comfortably against her shoulder, angling her antlers just enough to avoid any discomfort.
“There. Problem solved.” Nefer settles back. “Now close your eyes and rest. Or do I need to force you to?” A faint smirk forms on her lips.
Lauma freezes for a second, then relaxes against her, yielding completely. “Good night, Nefer.” She whispers softly as her eyes close, breathing evening out, and sleep slowly takes her.
The animals creep closer, curling around Lauma as if answering an unspoken call. A chubby badger climbs into her lap, settling there like a living blanket. Another badger waddles over to Nefer, glances up at her thoughtfully, then curls up on her own lap without hesitation. Two rimehorn deer lie down on either side of them, their warmth radiating gently.
The cave feels different now. It's quiet, safe, and impossibly cozy despite the cool air.
Is this how Lauma always sleeps? Nefer wonders. I suppose it makes sense… though it’s strange to be surrounded by so many animals.
She glances down at the badger resting on her lap.
Looks like I’m not going anywhere tonight.
Hopefully Jahoda has already gone home already. She has no desire to explain her sudden disappearance.
Nefer looks down at Lauma’s face. Her expression is peaceful, unburdened. For once, there’s no weight of duty etched into her features. Just quiet rest.
Then, her gaze drifts to the faint glow of her antlers that casts soft light across her features. Nefer lifts a hand, tempted to brush her fingers along them, but stops just short.
No. They must be sensitive.
She wouldn’t dare cross that boundary, not after Lauma trusted her enough to let her guard down like this.
Instead, Nefer gently brushes aside the bangs covering the left side of Lauma’s face and leans in, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.
“Good night, Lauma. Sweet dreams.”