SONG VIBE: Forever Rain - RM

  ________

  SAPHIRA

  Smuggler’s Way, Horrocks Pass

  The oppressive gloom of the cave began to press into Saphira. The air was rank with the stench of damp rot and something metallic. Every step brought the squelch of slime underfoot, and the distant plink of dripping water echoed eerily. Saphira could barely breathe through the suffocating dampness, her chest tight with exhaustion and dread.

  Nocturne pressed forward with a grunt, his hand grazing the uneven walls. The faint glow of bioluminescent fungi did little to illuminate the suffocating labyrinth.

  Saphira followed, her legs trembling with each step. Her mouth had gone unbearably dry, the air scratching at her throat with every breath. She stumbled again, the rough terrain threatening to send her sprawling.

  “How much longer?” she asked, leaning heavily against the clammy rock.

  “A few more hours. Keep moving.”

  “I can’t stand looking at all this grey.”

  “Would you prefer pitch black?” His voice was sardonic, but he added quietly, “You’d be terrified.”

  “I wouldn’t,” she insisted, “I’m…not scared. I’m with you.”

  "We’ll make it out of the cave soon.” Nocturne hesitated, the faintest flicker of concern softening his tone.

  Saphira trailed behind him, dragging her feet through the muck. The sharp smell of decay mingled with the stagnant air, making her stomach churn. She stopped abruptly, suppressing a wave of sickness. “Can we rest?”

  “Just a moment,” Nocturne allowed. His voice was rough, but he paused.

  “Any chance of a fire?”

  “With what kindling?”

  Saphira leaned against the wall, feeling water slick her sleeve. She ran her fingers along the cool dampness and moved to lick the moisture off, but Nocturne grabbed her wrist.

  His grip was firm but careful, and he shook his head. “Don’t,” he said, voice low. “Let’s keep moving. It’s too tempting otherwise.”

  They pressed on, the silence broken only by the wet squelch of their steps and the occasional distant rustle that made Saphira’s skin crawl. The nausea struck her suddenly, a wave of sickness that rolled through her empty stomach. She retched, falling to her knees and hauling up bile.

  I can no longer pretend to be strong. I can’t let him see me like this.

  She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other until her feet dragged over the ground. She fell to her knees and vomited.

  Get up, Saphira, she scolded, Don’t be weak. Don’t be a burden.

  Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, she tried not to cry. “It's worse when my stomach is empty,” she said weakly. “I need a bite of the jerky. Please.”

  “The saltiness will make the thirst worse,” Nocturne replied, though his tone was gentler now.

  She bent out, dry retching. She closed her eyes, wishing that Nocturne would stop looking at her. That’s it. He’ll leave me behind now.

  “I…can’t keep on going.” Her brows drew together. “The worst part is... is that I'm trying my best.”

  Nocturne’s voice softened, “Shall I carry you?”

  Saphira’s cheeks burned, unsure if his offer was genuine or mocking. Before she could protest, he sheathed his sword. Then, he hoisted her over his shoulders with ease, securing her in a soldier’s carry.

  “Put me down!” she shrieked, fists pounding against his side.

  A sharp smack landed on her backside, and she froze in mortification.

  “Behave,” Nocturne said curtly. “You’re getting a free ride.”

  Saphira let out a squeal of indignation. She writhed, trying to slip from his shoulders. "You're squishing my belly!"

  "I've gotta keep my sword arm free," he explained, then sighed and slipped her into a cradle hold. "You're right."

  Saphira went floppy and, with all the dignity she could muster, resigned herself to the mortification.

  Nocturne moved considerably faster, and as he walked, Saphira asked, “How did you become a spawnslayer?”

  “No choice,” he grunted.

  Saphira bit her tongue, sensing his hostility. She allowed herself to be almost hypnotised by the rise and fall of Nocturne’s wide gait. For a moment, there was only the steady crunch of gravel beneath Nocturne's boots, the drip of water echoing somewhere in the darkness.

  Then, unexpectedly, he asked, “Was that the first nightspawn you’ve seen?”

  “I…don’t think so. I don’t know.”

  “Everyone remembers the first one they saw." His tone dripped with suspicion.

  “My mother—” Saphira’s voice caught, and she paused, gathering herself. “She died protecting me from nightspawn. Sometimes, I think I remember it. But I don’t know. All my father says, is that she would have lived if I wasn’t there.”

  “She made a choice,” he said roughly, his stride not faltering. “To protect you. Any father would understand that.” There was a bite in his words, but also a strange kind of warmth to his tone. "I'd do the same."

  Saphira was silent, biting her lower lip to keep the surge of emotions in check. But after a few moments, curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, “How many nightspawn have you killed?”

  Nocturne laughed as if the question itself was a joke.

  Well that’s just rude—I asked him an honest question, what is so funny about it?

  The tension between them deepened as the tunnel walls closed in, forcing Nocturne to stoop. He shifted Saphira from his arms and to his back, her arms encircling his neck. She felt the solid strength of his chest as he carried her with steady, purposeful steps.

  I’m useless. Her legs ached, her stomach hollow with hunger. He didn’t even want this child, and now I’m just a burden.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Above: Nocturne carries Saphira.

  “I had silphium in my desk." The words spilled from her lips before she could stop them, a whisper laced with uncertainty. "Should I have taken it?”

  “Never,” he said sharply.

  “But you didn’t want this baby,” she pressed, her voice faltering.

  “I—” the words caught on his lips, “—I’d give my life for you and our child. It’s only that I thought—” he steadied himself “—my first thought was that it was another trick of the Duke.” He shook his head. “I haven’t slept well in months. After fighting Golgog… I couldn’t—I can’t—think straight.”

  As he carried her, his hand tightened around her legs. “There are things about spawnpits which are…hard to explain.”

  Her voice softened, “Why didn’t you tell everyone the truth on the wall? My Father said vile things about you.”

  “I wanted to protect your honour,” Nocturne said, his voice low. “I didn’t care about your half-sister or Crassus’s lies. All I knew was that I shared your bed, and I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hurting you because of it. I swore I’d return for you—and I would have found a way to get you.”

  “Even from Hyland?”

  “Of course. I would have gone to Edwin, to rally the Dukes. But I never considered that one night could result in... this. So, I couldn’t leave you there, not when you had my baby—” Nocturne’s nostrils flared as he scented the air. He glanced behind him and in front.

  The crystalith studs in Saphira’s ears turned slightly colder.

  “Where—?”

  Her words were stifled by a cold tendril wrapping over her neck, forcing its way towards her mouth. Panic surged as she clamped her lips shut, struggling against the creature’s pull. She reached out for any familiar threads of magic, but all around her was an unyielding, unhelpful stone.

  Nocturne’s blade flashed in the dim light. With a swift slash, he severed the tendril over her head, black ichor spraying onto the cave walls.

  The tendrils slackened, and Saphira grasped her throat, still feeling the creature's slimey hold on her skin.

  Setting her down gently, Nocturne gave her a moment to gather herself. She trembled, her breath coming in ragged gasps, as she wiped the slick blood from her face with the edge of his cloak.

  “Pit Viper,” he said tersely, “I hate snakes.” He examined the blade, wiping it clean as he spoke. “They’re not actual nightspawn. They’re parasites, feeding on the waste of old spawnpits. That’s why they’re so spawnrotting hard to sense.”

  Saphira tried to speak, but her voice quivered, the cold, slimy touch of the creature still fresh on her skin. Her hands shook, and she could not find the words.

  Nocturne reached back, his hand grasping hers. His grip was firm and steady as he interlaced their fingers, pulling her forward. “In better news,” he said, his tone softening slightly, “they tend to live near the exits. They like the warmth.”

  Ahead, Saphira saw a small pinhole of light. She rubbed her eyes, feeling the ache of the sunlight hit her eyes. Nocturne slowed, entering the light slowly to allow their eyes to adjust. The tunnel opened into a hilly mountainside, covered with pine trees which spread a thick carpet of dry pine needles over the forest floor. In the distance, a blue mountain range loomed, shaped at a distinctive point. Overhead, the sun hung in the middle of the sky, spreading warmth into the crisp winter’s day.

  “We passed right under." His lips pulled into a rare smile. "We’re in my lands now, and a few hours of daylight as well.” He let go of her hand and said, “If we’re lucky, one of my patrols may find us. There should be water nearby.”

  The journey down the mountainside required little effort, and in the sun, Saphira began to sweat despite the cold air. Saphira felt joy ripple through her as she heard running water. She skipped forward and found a small stream coming from the mountainside, wending its way through the pine trees. She knelt to lap from the water.

  Nocturne grasped her by the collar of her dress, pulling her up. He indicated for her to wait. Two hand widths away from the stream, he dug a small hole with a sharp stone. Then, he waited, watching as the hold filled with water. He scooped the bracken and pine needles aside and indicated to Saphira.

  She fell beside the hole and scooped the water into her dry mouth. It tasted like dirt, but it was cool and perfectly refreshing. When she finished, she looked up and saw Nocturne drinking from his own water hole, smirking.

  He picked up two fallen sticks and stuffed dry pine needles around them. He took out a flintstone and his knife and sprayed sparks onto the needles, blowing gently, so it caught fire. He said, “My patrols may see the smoke and come. It’ll keep away the nightspawn…if they’re bold enough to wander around in full daylight.”

  “Father said Horrocks Pass was overrun with nightspawn. Sir Finley died defending it.”

  “They’re kept under control on my side of the mountain. They don’t tend to wander far from Horrocks. The ‘spawn that do are killed by Firestone patrols.” He paused, adding, “There’s something not right about that, your father should be able to control his ‘spawn.”

  “Father never told me why he didn’t kill the nightspawn.” A bitter smile pulled over her lips. “If I ever asked any questions, all he would say is that women are good for two things: children and…uh…making children.”

  Nocturne turned, walking away as he said, “Keep that fire going.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “You need food. If there’s trouble, scream.”

  “Comforting,” Saphira muttered, feeding the fire dry pine needles. She broke a dead branch over her knee and placed it onto the fire. She held her hands out, relishing the warmth. Please don’t leave, she thought, I don’t want to be alone in the wilderness.

  “I expect a bonfire when I get back!"

  “And I expect strawberry tarts and sweetrolls,” Saphira mumbled, shoving twigs into the fire, trying to hide how her hands shook with fear.

  As the fire grew, Saphira rested on a bed of pine needles and held her hands out to warm. She saw her once perfectly rounded fingernails, broken and caked with dirt. Her hands and arms bore numerous tiny cuts. She took her strip of beef jerky from her pocket and clamped her jaw down.

  Behind her, she heard a tiny mew. She turned but saw only the empty forest. Sighing, she broke the jerky in half and placed the larger half behind her back. She waited a moment, and when she turned around, the jerky was gone. From the bushes, she heard a contented purr-meow.

  So I’m not alone after all, Saphira thought, thank you, little one, for keeping me safe. I owe you my life.

  Soon, Nocturne returned, carrying four bird eggs and a handful of red berries. He tapped his knife on the top of each egg, cracking a small hole in the shell up top. He placed the egg in the pit of the fire but did not let it touch the flames or burning coals. He offered the berries to Saphira while they waited. With his leather gloves on, he took the eggs out and placed them on a rock. After cooling down, he tapped the shells away and bit into it. Inside, there was a bird embryo, and he ate it whole.

  “Eat yours.”

  “But…it’s a little bird.”

  “It’s food.” He sighed. “Force yourself—for the sake of the baby.”

  “All I can think about is the mother bird returning to find her nest empty," she said, her eyes welling up with tears. Stop crying. You don’t have the luxury of empathy. Saphira thought, bringing the egg up to her lips. She closed her eyes tightly, but all she could imagine was the poor baby bird.

  Nocturne took the egg from her hands, plucked out the embryo, ate it, and gave her the rest of the egg.

  Saphira ate, and then finished the second when Nocturne passed it to her.

  Her mouth watered, and Nocturne handed her the final egg. Without blinking, Saphira ate it just as quickly.

  With food in her belly, her thirst satiated, and in relative safety, Saphira felt herself finally taking in her surroundings with wonder. The sky was ablaze with colour—pale pinks, deep oranges, and soft purples—stretching endlessly above. She took a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of it all, the crisp air filling her lungs as if she were breathing for the first time.

  For a moment, she felt small and impossibly free, her heart pounding with awe and wonder. She laughed to herself, almost madly, and thought, Finally, I am free from my tower and in the world—and what a beautiful world it is. My Father was wrong.

  Nocturne watched her with an unreadable expression, his brow furrowed as if caught between two warring thoughts, but he remained silent.

  As the sun fell behind the mountain, Saphira drew Nocturne’s woollen cloak around her and shivered. Her voice was barely a whisper in the darkness as she asked, “Why did you take me with you? It would have been easier to leave me behind.”

  He said simply, “I made vows to you. Come.” Wordlessly, he pulled Saphira close and straddled his legs around her, holding her against his chest. With her ear against his chest, she heard his heart beating steadily. His inhuman warmth moved around her, heating her more thoroughly than the blazing fire.

  Above: Nocturne shelters Saphira.

  “Sleep,” he commanded.

  “Nightspawn,” Saphira yawned, “You’ll struggle to defeat them without me.”

  He leaned into her ear and whispered, “I could kill a dozen of them without waking you.”

  Saphira snuggled into his chest, listening to the crackle of the fire and the hush of the pine trees. For now, she was warm, safe, and held—But is he finally warming up to me? Or are we just surviving side-by-side?