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| Location: Guard Camp > Zeph’s House | Collaboration with @The Muse |
Nesna clapped her hands together as soon as it seemed Aliseth was backing off, and her tone shifted cheerier still.
“Oh, and Guard Hale, I have come to understand you are fond of a snack here and there? Would the local inn happen to offer—” as Nesna continued, she seemed to adopt a giddy expression, peaking at the next word,
“warm baths? If you could be such a darling. could you help me find my way and see to it that I can have a nice drink while I soak this awful grime out? I assure you, I can make it worth your time.”Nesna blinked and clicked her tongue, as if realizing what she had said,
“Pardon my vague speaking. I mean to say that I will pay you for your assistance and trouble. And for permitting me to consult you on the matter of getting something proper to drink and to eat.”Zeph’s eyes narrowed as Nesna’s tone shifted again, her pedantic tone replaced by a more sugary, almost calculated sweetness. He couldn’t help but feel a slight sting when she mentioned him being fond of snacks. He clenched his jaw but said nothing, keeping his expression neutral, hidden under his helmet. He wasn’t sure what to make of her sudden change of attitude, but it was hard to ignore how quickly she seemed to adapt, almost as if she’d been trained in this kind of manipulation.
“We’re not going to the inn yet,” Zeph finally said, his voice colder than it had been when he first greeted her at the gate.
“I have more questions for you. Unfortunately, the jail's not fully finished yet.”The jail had been close to completion, but it seemed like they were still waiting on a few final touches. That left him with few options. He didn’t trust to leave her loose in town, and he certainly couldn’t drag her through a half-finished jail crawling with construction workers. With that out of the question, he had no choice but to make other arrangements.
He led her out of the camp, pushing past the noise of guards organizing, preparations still being made for the search of the Princess.
“Looks like we’ll have to make do with my place instead. It’s just north of the town center. You may have a warm bath there—if you comply with my questioning first. Understood?”Nesna sighed gently and nodded.
“Very well,” she responded. She paused, and suddenly let out a dry laugh,
“And to think of what Mother would think! Oh, but never mind it. At this point, I’ve gone six miserable years without a nice soak. I’d—hah—I’d damn well let you watch and tell you my life’s story at once if it took it to get a damned bath!”Zeph raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. He was almost amused, but quickly buried the feeling deep within. If these had been different circumstances, he might’ve had something sly to say, but now… he couldn’t afford to be distracted. So he forced his expression into a neutral state and said nothing, his mind reminding him that she may be responsible for Abel’s death. There were too many unanswered questions hanging over her, too much suspicion—she was a suspect. And for all he knew, she might be one of those sex-driven demons. It seemed to be leaning that way, considering the way she tried to lure him in with such a comment. He’d be damned if he let her sway him.
Nesna chortled a moment, clapping a hand to her mouth, wheezed, and then quickly cleared her throat. Returning to her more formal tone, she added,
“Pardon. In any case, though, a normal interview and a normal bath afterwards would be my distinct preference. I will happily comply.”In silence, they moved north, the sounds of the camp fading away, replaced by the bustle of the town—its citizens still blissfully unaware of the attack. He held no illusions about Nesna—she might’ve been complying now, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous. He knew how blight-born could be, and understood that he could be walking himself into a trap. If she had decided to turn on him, especially in close quarters, he’d likely lose that battle. One human very rarely won the fight against one blight-born. At the very least, he was keeping her close, keeping her distracted while the rest of the guards figured out this mess.
Yet, despite the cold calculations running through his mind, he couldn’t deny that he was grateful for her compliance—and the way she seemed to have taken to him better than she had with Aliseth. Not pushing her around and calling her names probably helped. In a way, it felt like a win.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice unexpectedly softer than it had been before.
“For your cooperation. It makes things easier.” He hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his words weighted by a flicker of guilt.
“And… I’m sorry for the way you were treated back there.”He turned his head slightly to glance at her, genuine in his apology. His mother would have been livid if she’d seen him do nothing, standing idly by while a woman was berated—blight-born or not.
“It is nothing I did not anticipate as a possibility,” Nesna responded. Her voice seemed calm, but not altogether distant. Rather, she spoke as if she were simply recounting neutral facts, rather than unpleasant experiences.
“I am under no illusions as to what I am. My only surprise is that, even acting according to my current station, I was met with such active scorn. Passive, I’m sure you can imagine, is bearable. But I have never before been manhandled, and I should like to imagine that there is at least a sliver of humanity to me left, no matter how far I have fallen, that asks that I not be treated in such a way without provocation. So if even after doing my best to emphasize my humanity—whatever of it I still have—I am still treated as an animal, I see no reason to continue with pleasantries. I appreciate that you see no need to beat a dog that has collared itself. I am happy to bow lower than I once had to, if only I am not kicked while I do it. Really, this part is no trouble at all.”Zeph simply nodded in response, though her words lingered in his mind. He said nothing, but wondered what she might have endured as a blight-born. He didn’t dare probe further, though. Knowing how his people had treated them all these years… it couldn’t have been a pleasant story. Instead, he allowed the silence to stretch between them, his thoughts occupied as they continued walking along snow-dusted roads.
After passing through the busy town square, Zeph led them through the northern residential area where many guards, including himself, had been assigned housing. Eventually, they closed in on a modest cabin, its wooden structure tucked among a row of similar homes.
Before reaching his home, Zeph caught sight of one of the squires who attended to several guards in the area, bundled against the cold with a bucket in hand.
"Oi, Taron!" his voice carried over the quiet street, firm but not harsh. The young squire froze mid-step and looked over, wide-eyed.
"Yes, sir?" Taron replied, hurrying closer, his boots crunching in the snow.
"Get a bath going, ey?" He jerked his chin toward the cabin.
"I’ve a guest that’s in need."Taron’s gaze flicked toward Nesna, curiosity and confusion plain on his face. Zeph narrowed his eyes slightly, snapping the boy’s attention back to him.
"Understood, sir. Straight away." Taron said quickly, straightening.
Satisfied, Zeph stepped ahead to unlock the door, pushing it open and holding it for her and the squire. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure how she’d maneuver her massive, bat-like wings through the doorway. Nesna simply relaxed her wings, letting them slump straight behind her, like a cape, and walked through the door with ease, then Taron followed. As soon as she entered, Nesna carefully set down two bags and untethered something from around her waist, resulting in a layer of skirt falling to the floor, revealing itself to be another bag that she had been essentially wearing.
Grabbing the torch mounted on the wall outside, Zeph followed them in, warm orange light spilling into the otherwise dark interior. His home was practically just as cold as outside, obviously unused for some time. Its modest size reflected his station—a single living area with a hearth at its center, a small kitchen space, and a door leading to the bedroom in the back. Stacks of dried wood sat beside the hearth, the only clue to show that someone actually lived here. It wasn’t much, but it served its purpose.
Closing the door behind them, he made his way to the dining table and gestured to one of two chairs.
“Please, take a seat,” he said, pulling out a chair for her.
“Thank you,” she affirmed. She swept her hands under her dress and pulled it forward as she sat. Taron scurried toward the back room, opening the door and disappearing inside. Luckily for Taron, he knew water magic to fill the metal tub—he’d just need to stoke the coals beneath it for a while to warm it up.
Once Nesna was seated, Zeph moved to the hearth, kneeling to toss in a bundle of kindling and arrange a few logs. The crackle of flames soon filled the cabin as he used the torch to light the wood, warmth beginning to spread through the room. He rose and walked to the front door, briefly stepping outside to place the torch back in its sconce before returning to her at the table.
“The bath will take a little time,” he said simply as he began to remove his helmet, black hair falling in messy strands around his face. A sense of relief washed over him as he set the helmet down on the table, the weight lifted from his head. Running a hand through his hair, ruffling it further, he pulled up a chair and sat across from Nesna.
Finally, he had a clear view of her. The soft glow of firelight played across her features now, and for a moment, he allowed himself a brief thought—how odd it felt, hosting someone like her in his home. His hazel eyes moved between her four purple ones, glowing brightly in the dim lighting. Leaning back in his chair, arm draped lazily over the backrest, he studied her carefully.
“Tell me about yourself, Nesna.”Nesna seemed to pause for a second. Her pupil-less eyes gave no indication as to where she might have been looking, if indeed she was looking anywhere at all. Her expression seemed pensive, as if Zeph had in fact asked a very difficult question. After a moment of this, she seemed to return to the present. She lifted her right hand, slid her thumb up across her second and third fingers, and then flicked her wrist. From one of her bags emerged a quartet of sparkling things which floated quickly over to the table. The larger pair went right into Nesna’s hand, while the smaller ones set down delicately in front of Zeph. While Nesna clutched what had come to her in her hand, obscuring it from sight, what sat before Zeph were little silver rings—too small to be for one’s fingers.
“There are plenty of young people who have their ears pierced. But very few can say that their first earrings were pure silver,” Nesna stated,
“Those aren’t my first earrings you have in front of you—I wouldn’t give you those as a matter of sentiment. But those things in front of you are earrings of silver, just as pure as the ones my ears were first pierced with. I used to like those for everyday use, but I can’t get much use at all out of them anymore, so I suggest you take them and pawn them off. Perhaps buy your bewildered friend a few drinks to cool his temper, and keep the rest, though I suggest you either tell him you stole them from me or speak not of money at all. Or keep them, if you’d rather that. Consider it appreciation for the most unexpected decency I’ve thus far enjoyed from you.
But you see, those are probably worth a decent sum even to a scamming pawner, and yet for me, they’re one of a smattering of everyday earrings that I thought absolutely nothing of when I had use for them.”Zeph's gaze lingered on the delicate earrings placed before him, their metal faintly reflecting the firelight. From his seat, he made no motion to reach for them, though his mind mulled over her words. Pure silver—they’d fetch a decent pouch of gold, enough to cover his expenses for at least a month.
After a pause, he met her gaze, a trace of skepticism flickering in his hazel eyes. Rarely were nobles so generous with their valuables. Sure, she was blight-born now, but when had dire circumstances ever hindered a noble's entitlement?
Nesna shifted her hand towards Zeph and uncurled her fingers, revealing what she was holding. In her hand sat a pair of earrings with large, flawless pearls. Framing either side of them were silver crescents, intricately engraved to depict the phases of the moon. Nesna sighed longingly as she picked one up with her free hand and held it so that it could gleam in the light. As the earring dangled from her gloved fingers, it sparkled vibrantly, catching both the light of the fire and the brightening light from her eyes. Nesna’s lower, extra pair of eyes closed, and she looked at the gorgeous piece silently for another moment before inhaling, and then continuing.
“These belonged to my great, great, great grandmother on my mother’s side. They have been passed down for generations from mother to daughter, as one of our most prized possessions. Aren’t they beautiful? It’s a magnificent piece—a symbol of dedication and love, which seeks to impart its wearer with but a fragment of the beauty and grace of the Blesséd Seluna. An inheritance bonding generations to one another across time and across space, each new daughter a new phase of the ever-continuing cycle of life under the Moon’s loving gaze.”Nesna suddenly snatched the earring up and put it back in her other hand with its twin.
“Until me, that is.”Her tone suddenly shifted as she said this, from expressing warm longing to frigid bitterness.
“You know, parents are meant to love their children. And on rare occasion—on rare special occasion—sometimes they may even venture to like the things. I was loved once. I was even liked once, if you can imagine it.”Nesna’s eyes had all but lost their glow at this point, as the rest of her expression followed her tone in sinking from loving to bitter.
“But did you know, Guard Hale, that nobility are entirely replaceable too? There isn’t much about me to tell. Because I’m dead, of course. As far as anyone who ever needed to know is concerned, my phases ended before I could ever even touch these beautiful things. Have you ever been to your own funeral, Guard Hale? It’s really quite a fascinating thing to see how everyone is suddenly just a little bit nice as they hurry things along to distract from the fact that they never really bothered to look for your corpse.”Nesna suddenly let out a dry, vicious chortle and suddenly pulled one of her gloves off, enveloping the earrings in the glove as her bare hand was revealed. While her gloves were dark, her hands were pitch-black, as if she were wearing charcoal gloves underneath her woollen ones. Her lower eyes snapped open once again.
“I’m a corpse, Hale. You’re all wrong when you say things like me are demons!” she exclaimed as she pulled off the other glove,
“We’re ghosts! Idiots who asked for death and were struck down into awful mockeries of themselves for it! Nesna is nothing more than this—a ghost—a creature of and belonging to the dead.”Zeph listened silently as Nesna lamented over her past, her demeanor shifting as words spilled out bitter and sharp. A slight crease in his brow formed as she declared herself a ghost, proclaiming that all blight-born had wished for death. It was clear she was projecting, lost in the shadows of her own past. He knew that not all blight-born had sought death. In fact, most hadn’t. Though he suspected that many now yearned for death’s embrace, burdened by what they had become—not unlike Nesna here.
But that raised a question: had she entered the blight willingly? His brow furrowed deeper as she spoke of herself in the third person, a telling gesture of detachment, as if trying to separate who she had been and who she was now.
Nesna sighed, set the gloves down on the table, and slumped in her chair, clasping the bridge of her nose as she continued.
“I could waste your entire day telling you about what I was, because there’s nothing to say about what I am. Six years. After slowly tumbling down the rocky slopes of love, grace, and affection, I crumbled, made my landing, and died—except I didn’t get that kindness. No, I am in penance now. And after six years living like some miserable, ugly little fox or squirrel, scratching at life in woods while sneaking my residence from and stealing all sorts of sparkly nonsense from greater creatures than myself, I am here, talking to you, telling you that all that I am is a ghost remembering that it once got to be a human and failed to earn it.”Nesna looked back at Zeph after her soliloquy and let out a pained wheeze.
“So to make clear my answer, all that Nesna is and has ever been so long as she has been Nesna is a little woodland pest plagued with memories of a better life and the decay thereof. I have, in my life as this phase of myself, done exactly nothing that cannot also be said of a pitiful little animal save for reading the books I stole. But don’t worry, I only stole things that used to be mine anyway. And things that should have, if only I were not already rotting before I died.”Letting the silence hang in the air between them, the crackle of fire the only sound, Zeph leaned forward and picked up the silver earrings. He turned them over in his fingers, examining the delicate craftsmanship. His eyes flicked toward Nesna, the hint of a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“You are quite the fox, I’d agree.” he finally said, a spark of something teasing in his tone. A playfulness arose in his eyes as he absentmindedly rolled the earrings between his index finger and thumb.
“But a ghost? No.” Reaching across the table, he took one of her blackened hands into his own. Turning them over gently, he placed the silver earrings unto her upturned palm, his movements careful and unhurried.
“You’re here, right now,” he said, his gaze locked onto her.
“I see you. You’re no ghost.” He curled her fingers around the earrings with a gentle firmness, returning them to her. His touch lingering for a moment before he withdrew.
“You don’t have to keep paying for any mistakes you might’ve made in the past.”Zeph felt for her, what more could be said? But true to his nature, ever the class clown, he couldn’t resist the urge to pull her attention away from her pain, throwing in a teasing remark or two just to see if he could coax a smile out.
“And for the record, the name’s Zephyros,” he added, his mischievous smile growing.
“You only have to call me Hale if you plan on making me put you in cuffs.”Nesna offered a half-smile at Zeph’s teasing and introduction, and then a soft nod.
“Zephyros…” she repeated, bringing her hand to her chin,
“That has quite a well-to-do bearing.”She clicked her tongue and sat up straighter than she had been before.
“I suppose I ought to explain to you why I imagine it’s a continued indemnity that I’m working with here. Or, perhaps showing would be better. Let’s start simply.”Nesna opened her eyes wide, and pointed to them with two fingers.
“With all of these four eyes, I would still bet you gold that I can’t see as well as you can. I never had good vision, mind you, but now I can’t very well wear my old spectacles!” she proclaimed, then gesturing at her ears,
“Now these, I can hear extremely well with. Altogether too well if you ask me. When I found my little hiding spot on the family property, I found that even without pressing my ear to the chimney, I could get quite a clear sense of what was being said more or less throughout the building. It is generally polite to avoid speaking ill of the dead, one would think, but I’m afraid my name graced lips many a time, and few were terribly kind, so I realized. Much effort was spent convincing Mother that my loss was a blessing, and even more to attempt to cool my dear younger brother’s grief. But that is, in the end, in the past. Other than occasional mockery of the presumed-deceased, there hadn’t been much mention of me by the time the blight forced everyone to leave. What troubles me the most these days is that I can’t bear to sleep on either side. Either I sleep on my stomach or on my back, for my ears will not tolerate anything else.”Nesna sighed, cleared her throat, and then leaned forward, tilting her head up as she did.
“But that’s no fun. What I’m sure you’re most interested in is this mess,” she continued. She pulled back her cheek with one finger and opened her mouth wide. Molasses-like saliva formed sparkling strands between her teeth as she opened her mouth. Nesna slowly dragged her tongue along the inside of her mouth, all but caressing each of the sharp, carnivorous teeth that sat behind her otherwise inconspicuous incisors.
Zeph’s face betrayed him for a split second, his lips twitching into a grimace before he could stop himself. Out of everything she'd shown him, this was by far the hardest to take in. But, just as quickly, he smoothed his expression back into something more neutral, not wanting to make her feel worse than she already did.
After making a show of her teeth in the light of the fire, Nesna let go of her cheek, sucked back the spit that had started to spill over her lip, and wiped the side of her mouth with the back of her hand with a disgusted expression.
“Not a single tooth in there is any good for chewing anything,” she scoffed,
“Even if I could stomach much normal food, I’d need to cut it up into little—tiny little pieces, like a child. Not that it had ever stopped me from swiping cake and other sweets from the kitchen when we had them, and then promptly scarfing them down and puking them up in the woods...”Nesna trailed off for a moment, then cleared her throat.
“Excuse me,” she sighed,
“I really am terribly out of practice in conversation. My tone is all over the place today. What I mean to say is that there really isn’t much that I can actually eat for the purposes of sustenance. I’ve found luck with stomaching meat, but the unfortunate truth is that I’m one of those awful bloodsuckers. But please, don’t worry! I’ve never touched human blood, only animal blood! And I prefer not to kill the poor things, so I generally go after reindeer, moose, and so forth.”Zeph’s playful demeanor faded the moment Nesna uttered the word "bloodsucker," suddenly reminded of why he’d brought her into his home in the first place. Her assurances that she’d never harmed a human meant little—words alone weren’t enough to earn his trust. Though, if distracting him had been her plan, she was doing an impressive job of it.
Damn his wandering mind and empathetic heart. Steeling himself, his gaze hardened, flicking briefly to the edges of her dress where Aliseth had pointed out faint specks of blood.
Nesna scratched her chin for a moment, musing,
“What else?” and then snapped her finger.
“There’s wings, of course. You can see those. I’ve a tail—one that looks as demonic as these confounded horns of mine, and the wings. It has that spade-tip and everything. Oh, the thing used to get in the way! I had to make a point of putting on a bit of weight just to find it comfortable to sit again. Though I still don’t find it altogether convenient when I’m dressed and in a chair. Beyond all of this? What I can tell you with certainty is that, as some kindness, I suppose, the blight bolstered my magic. Oh, it really did something for it. And with the Moon gracing us with Her presence all the time? I should weep for the sage I could have been! But that, I remind you, is why I’m here. Could you imagine it? If we could only cure the blight? Fix all who have been afflicted? And perhaps—hah!—perhaps get away without bringing back the sun!”Nesna seemed to relax as she spoke of her magic, letting an almost calm smile grow on her lips as her eyelids seemed to match her soothed disposition.
“So it isn’t all bad, I suppose,” she mused,
“But please, has any of this been helpful? I want to be cooperative.”Zeph leaned forward onto the table as he listened to her musings, his left elbow propped on the surface, resting his chin lazily in the palm of his hand.
“Care to explain the blood?” he asked, arching a brow and gesturing to her dress with his free hand.
“Oh, those stains?” she half asked, looking at her gown for a moment. Nesna looked down at them and looked at Zeph again, with an incredulous smile. She let out a small laugh, and then realized Zeph was serious.
“You do recall that I need the stuff to survive? Some of these are years old…well, this one is fresher, if I recall—oh yes! Right, have you ever bitten a bull moose? I cannot in good conscience recommend it. But it was the only beast I could find when I had started my trip here. I had to pounce on it perhaps, oh, six times if I recall? It shattered my cup! That I should thank the Goddess I can dust myself off after getting slammed into a cliff face, but glass is far less fortunate. So I was made to return to lapping it up from the source like a normal animal. And so I wouldn’t be surprised if I got a new smattering of stains from this entire affair. Really, the only solution at this rate is to burn this thing once I’ve gotten my nicer garments tailored for the wings…But to reiterate, animal blood—the lot of it is. I never intended to give you the notion that I was any good at the thing I need to do to survive. I’ve gotten better, mind you, but I imagine there are a great many newer blight-born who are far better at that sort of thing than I.”Zeph nodded in understanding, the story believable given her circumstances. It was what he figured she would say, but it was good to hear her say it aloud. She had been as cooperative as any blight-born he had encountered, but still, there was something in the back of his mind telling him to keep his guard up. If Abel could be taken so easily, then so could he.
“Those stains... might not be the best look around town." he said, leaning back in his chair again.
“If you need something tailored, perhaps I could help? I know it might be surprising, but I’m pretty good with my hands.” His serious expression shifted, a sly smirk curling at the corners of his lips.
Before Nesna could answer, the sound of boots clicking against the wooden floor interrupted him. Turning toward the hallway, he watched as the young squire reappeared.
“The bath is ready for your…. guest, sir.” he said, his eyes lingering on Nesna with uncertainty.
"Just as promised." Zeph said, his gaze briefly flicking back to Nesna before returning to the squire, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Thank you, Taron. Dismissed."Taron nodded quickly, giving a nervous glance at Nesna as he hurried toward the door, leaving Zeph and Nesna alone again.
Nesna looked to Taron and then back at Zeph as Taron hurried out. She held her hand up to cover her smile as she recalled Zeph’s comment, and then rose quickly from her seat.
“You would?” she asked,
“Oh, you’re just the kindest!”She crouched down before her bags and unraveled one of them, pulling out two garments after a moment of rustling through it.
Standing back up, she held up a pristine white shift, and a peacock-blue dress embroidered with shimmering purple floral patterns not altogether different in color from Nesna’s eyes. The dress almost gleamed in the gentle light of the fire, and Nesna smiled warmly at it for a moment before speaking.
“Truly, you would be doing more than I could dream of thanking you for. All I need done, really, is to have a panel made on the back for my wings,” Nesna suggested,
“If I was at all any good with buttons, I’d have attempted it myself. But you see, my wings sit low, and I can’t very well show off my entire back! So I imagined I’d cut two lines down to where my wings sit, and then put in buttons so I could button the back up around them. Do you imagine that could be done? I have a little sack full of buttons I took from clothes I knew wouldn’t fit me any longer that you could perhaps use.” As Nesna pulled the garments from her bag, a flicker of nerves ran through him. They appeared to be more expensive than he had imagined, and something she clearly cherished. It had been some time since he'd last worked in his family’s shop, but luckily the skills were still there, tucked away in the back of his mind. The knowledge was ingrained, from years of watching his mother, learning her craft as she expertly moved between fabrics. His hands had sewn countless seams, mended rips, and fixed buttons over the years. It was a skill that had always come in handy—especially when the cost of a tailor could be avoided.
Standing, he gave a quick nod, his eyes scanning the dress one last time before he moved toward the kitchen. After a few moments of rummaging in drawers, he found his measuring tape—slightly worn, but functional. He returned to Nesna, holding the tape in one hand.
“I’ll just need some measurements from you. And the buttons you’d like to use.” As he spoke, he moved behind her, hesitating for a moment as he figured out how to best maneuver himself around her wings. After a couple position shifts, his fingers brushed lightly against the fabric of her tattered dress as he made the first measurement across her shoulders. His mind wandered for just a moment, and for the briefest second, he could almost hear his mother’s voice in his head, guiding him as she always had when he’d been a boy—“measure twice, cut once.”
He wrapped the tape around her shoulders, just below the neck, and then down to her back, his movements slow and deliberate. The proximity to her felt strange, and Zeph had to keep his focus, forcing his mind not to wander. He hadn’t measured someone like this in years—especially not someone like her.
As he wrapped the measuring tape around her waist, he wondered how Aliseth and Volkov would react if they could see him now. He’d likely be flogged. The guards would never let him live it down. Hopefully she wasn’t the one who’d killed Abel… that’d be a real problem for him. Another mistake to add to the list.
Shoving the thought down, he finished the measurements and noted the numbers in his head. Stepping back, he eyed the dress again.
“It’ll take a little time, but I’ll make it work.”Nesna gave Zeph a bright smile as he considered his options.
“Consider me in your debt for as long as you see fit,” she responded,
“When I’ve finished my bath and cleaned myself off, I can only say that I owe you for such a warm welcome.”
Nesna stood for a moment and looked at the steaming waters of the bathtub. She almost didn’t want it to end—it was right here, after all this time. That providence which she had so long imagined forever out of reach was at last sitting right before her, waiting and ready. Nesna held her breath as she disrobed, nearly tearing the things off and throwing them aside. This first interaction in so long had gone strangely, unexpectedly well, even in spite of that foolish man who had caused such disruption and dismay to his comrades-at-arms. In the end, despite those rightly-espoused suspicions as to the character of a blight-stricken newcomer, there was a humanity about this place, a decency, which she had scarcely imagined. Was it possible, then, that she could be allowed to present more than another willing participant in experiments or some errand-runner able to handle the blight? If, indeed, even Lunarian guards here were willing to swallow their misgivings, then what of the ill-informed Aurelians, to say nothing of their Prince, who was so much more willing to entertain blight-born as worthy of anything at all?
But with all of that, here, in a little bathroom, in a house perhaps only somewhat larger than the chunk of former servants’ quarters that she had made her home in, hosted by a soldier who had every reason not to trust her—here was where she would be getting her first taste of humanity in years? Here, in a village built at the wishes of an
Aurelian prince—one who was marrying heir to the Lunarian throne? It was a miracle. A strange, head-spinning miracle.
But was letting all of this hit her right now really the best way to spend time? The coals would cool and the water would follow. Even then, it would be warmer than any bath Nesna had taken in ages—but it was not to be wasted!
Nesna shook her head vigorously. She felt herself lose her balance as she did. Stopping herself, she leaned over and grasped the edge of the metal basin with both hands. Just being in here felt surreal, strange—as if this were all a dream—as if her mind were playing tricks or just plain spinning.
‘Deep breath,’ she told herself.
Nesna inhaled and exhaled slowly.
‘You’re here. It’s real. You can feel it in your hands. There’s no reason to be silly.’She forced herself upright. Nesna slipped one foot into the water, and then stepped in fully. As she sat down, she grinned. It
was real. A beautiful, hot, perfect bath. Already she felt cleansed. As Nesna slumped into the water, she felt the soothing heat slip up around her, embracing her with its inviting waves of warmth.
How could anyone help but to want to enjoy simple pleasures like this forever?
It was so inviting. So soothing. So perfect for a nap.
Nesna felt one of her eyes slump down, as if it was even heavier than the other one. Come to think of it, everything felt heavy. Like she
needed to be beneath the water, like those whales beached on the shores—too heavy to sit above the surface. As Nesna sunk herself into the water further, she suddenly felt a drop. It felt like her mind was being sucked dry. She felt nauseous. Exhausted. And most of all, truly, truly awful.
It felt impossible to pull herself back up, though. Was this tub cursed? Was it somehow made to keep her here? A memory flashed through Nesna’s mind.
When the fires were going, she could never sit too long up against the chimney, even though it warmed her up to a comfortable temperature. She had to lay just beside it, with a blanket to bring a gentler warmth to her. It wasn’t even an uncomfortable heat on the chimney! But it made her
sick.
Blightborn, just like her, couldn’t survive the sun. She couldn’t even take the heat.
Nesna weakly spun her fingers in the water, getting it to rock in the tub as she pushed. Her head got above the water. She grabbed the side of the tub. Then she hoisted herself out onto the floor. Her legs dangled into the tub as she caught herself on the cold floor. She felt less awful as she sat with her legs raised by the tub. After a moment, she dragged herself forward and sat up with her knees pulled to her chest, totally nude, staring at the water.
‘I can’t even have a bath…’Nesna sat there for a moment, then shivered. The only choice left? A whore’s bath. She sat by the tub and draped her hair into it.
Irritated at the situation, she conceded to carefully alternate between washing stretches of her hair and using a rag dipped in the warm water to clean herself off.
‘It was supposed to be a reward.’Years ago, this sort of thing would have had her shivering. It still felt weird to have no need to shiver. It all still
felt, and yet it was like her body didn’t respond. Nesna was used to being cold. But she still felt the cold. Even if there were no shivers or even goosebumps to accompany it, there was still this inescapable iciness that refused to retreat from her skin. After all of this time, it was less so uncomfortable and more so
maddening. It was the sort of thing that made Nesna at once want to shrivel into a fetal position and also jump, stomp her feet, and scream. It was like her body was both indifferent to dying and indifferent to life. It was hard to feel her heartbeat, even after physical activity. Her core never felt particularly warm, even when, by all accounts, reaching her gloveless hands rendered ice-cold by the snow into her shift and pressing them to her chest should have meant she really felt a proper warmth there.
It was as if her body wanted nothing to do with warmth, even though it was a far more pleasant feeling than this nagging chill.
Nesna did not luxuriate in her bath as she had wanted to. She all but scrubbed herself, as if her hair was laundry and her body was dishes. The bath has turned from a treat into a chore, and Nesna wasted no time getting it over with. She scrubbed every inch clean, ever crevice, every hair on her head, and then squeezed the rag dry into the basin with stern finality. She still felt woozy, but resolved to stand up properly.
She took several deep breaths and hoisted herself up to her feet. After a moment of shakiness, she stood rigid, adopting the posture of a cat that had just been dumped in the water. She grasped the towel, quickly dried her body, and then wrapped it around herself. She then held her hair over the basin and slowly twisted sections of it to remove as much water as possible. She stood for another moment once this was done before finally spinning some hair around her fingers and wicking the water off back into the basin with magic, until her hair was finally dry.
And so the joy-turned-inconvenience was done.
