Vael led Nocturna through the bustling streets of the small town, the scent of fresh bread and smoked meats mingling with the crisp morning air. Unlike the day before, when most had only given her wary glances, a few Dravern and dwarves openly stared as she passed. Vael had told Nocturna over dinner the previous night that the next trading cart heading out wouldn't leave for another five days. If she wanted to travel safely, she'd have to wait until then. The news sat heavy in her chest, but she kept her expression neutral, nodding in acknowledgment. Five days in this town—longer than she wanted, but she had little choice. Until then, she'd have to stay put, keep her head down, and avoid drawing too much attention.
They stopped outside a modest stone-and-wood shop, the warm aroma of baked goods drifting from within. "This is Elira's place," Vael said, pushing open the door. "She's an old friend. I trade some of my hunts for her bread and cheese." Inside, a tall Draven woman with deep auburn hair tied in a thick braid glanced up from kneading dough. Her green eyes flicked between Vael and Nocturna with mild curiosity.
"Elira," Vael greeted, stepping inside. "This one could use some work while I'm out." He gestured toward Nocturna, who now wore the slightly oversized tunic and trousers he'd given her. Elira wiped her flour-dusted hands on her apron and raised an eyebrow. "So you're pawning off your strays on me now?" Vael smirked. "Just keeping her busy. Try not to scare her off." Elira snorted before turning to Nocturna. "Ever worked in a bakery before?" Nocturna shook her head. "No matter. You can start by kneading that dough. Let's see if those hands of yours are any good." Vael gave a nod before stepping back toward the door. "I'll be back later," he told Nocnurina. "Try not to burn the place down." Nocturna watched him leave, then turned to Elira, who had already rolled up her sleeves. "Well?" the Draven woman said. "Get to work."
Nocturna pressed her hands into the dough, trying to mimic Elira's movements. The sticky mass resisted her efforts, and after only a minute, her arms ached from the repetitive motion. Still, she clenched her jaw and pushed through, unwilling to stop until Elira gave the order. "Alright, that's enough," Elira finally said, dusting flour from her hands. Nocturna let out a quiet breath, flexing her sore fingers. She glanced around, still adjusting to the strange metal contraptions built into the walls—ovens unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Instead of wood-fueled flames, they operated with glowing panels and seamless precision-the large crystals forged into it emitted a large amout of energy, nothing like the crude stone hearths she was used to. Throughout the day, Elira gave her various tasks—shaping dough, carrying trays, wiping down surfaces. Nocturna wasn't particularly skilled at any of them, but Elira never scolded her, only correcting her form with a patient hand.
By the time the shop closed, Nocturna's arms were trembling from exhaustion. She sighed in relief, only to be surprised when Elira pressed two metallic coins into her palm. Nocturna blinked, turning them over in her fingers. "What is this for?" she asked, unfamiliar with their weight. Elira laughed. "For your work. You don't think I'd have you toiling all day for nothing, do you? It'd weigh on my conscience." Nocturna studied the coins, uncertainty flickering in her silver eyes. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and Vael entered, a few small animals strapped to his waist. He tossed them onto the counter, and Elira immediately began inspecting them with an approving nod. Their exchange was brief and familiar, words exchanged with the ease of long-time trade partners. Nocturna remained silent, watching as Elira handed Vael a bundle wrapped in cloth—likely cheese and bread in return.
Vael then turned to Nocturna. "How'd she do?"
Elira smirked. "She tried."Nocturna's lips twitched slightly, but she said nothing. Vael nodded, grabbing his bundle before jerking his head toward the door. "Come on. You'll need rest if you plan on keeping up tomorrow." Without a word, Nocturna followed him out into the cooling night air, the metallic coins still warm in her palm.
It had been three days since Nocturna started helping Elira at the bakery. The work was hard, leaving her arms sore and her fingers dusted in flour, but in the short time she'd been there, she had grown to enjoy it. There was something soothing about the rhythm of kneading dough, the scent of fresh bread filling the shop, and the quiet moments shared with Elira as they worked. A stray thought crept into her mind—how the others would love to have something like this to do all day instead of staring at blank walls, waiting for time to pass. A pang of longing settled in her chest, but she pushed it aside, focusing on shaping the next loaf.
As Elira andNocturina finished the last bites of the leftover pot pie, the warmth of the meal lingering between them, Elira set down her fork and glanced at Nocturna. "I know you don't speak much, and you have your reasons—I won't pry," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "But could you at least give me something to call you besides 'girl'? Feels a bit rude on my part." Nocturna wiped her mouth with a cloth, meeting Elira's gaze. She was about to say she didn't mind when a soft whisper curled through her mind.
"Nuri."
Her breath caught. The voice was unmistakable—her mother's. A name she hadn't heard in so long, a name spoken with warmth and love. Taking it as a sign from the stars, she swallowed and nodded. "Nuri," she said. Elira tilted her head, rolling the name over in her mind before nodding with a satisfied smile. "Nuri, huh? I like it. Suits you." She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Now I don't have to feel like I'm scolding some nameless stray every time I talk to you." A small, almost amused huff escaped Nocturna—Nuri now. Elira grinned, clearly pleased with herself. "Alright then, Nuri," she said, standing and gathering their dishes. "Let's get back to work before Vael barges in here looking for his bread."
That evening, as Nuri walked back to Vael's home alone, she caught the tail end of a conversation he was having outside with two other hunters she didn't recognize. "No tracks, no sightings," one of them said, arms crossed in frustration. "Maybe it's moved on." Vael shook his head. "Unlikely. More like it's just lying low, waiting." The hunters noticed Nuri's approach and offered brief nods before saying their goodbyes, leaving her alone with Vael. Curiosity gnawed at her, and after a brief hesitation, she finally asked, "This beast… how long has it been hunting these lands?" Vael sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "This one's been here for two months, but no one who's seen it has come back with anything useful on how to kill it." Nuri's eyes widened. "Are you saying there's more than one?" Vael nodded, crossing his arms. "They've been around for centuries. None of them look the same, but they're all wild—driven by nothing but the urge to kill." Nuri stared at him, unease creeping through her. These creatures had never existed in her world when she was a child. So what had brought them into existence now.
Vael's gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. "The last one that came through this area was a bear-like beast. It attacked my wife while she was out foraging in the forest five years ago." Nuri felt a pang in her chest at the weight in his voice. He didn't speak with anger, only a quiet grief that lingered beneath the surface. "I'm sorry," she said softly. Vael exhaled through his nose, glancing away. "Nothing to be sorry for. It happened, and there was nothing I could do to stop it." He rubbed a hand over his beard. "That's why I don't think this one's gone. These things don't just leave. They hide, waiting for the right moment to strike." Nuri swallowed. If these beasts had been around for centuries, growing bolder, what had changed? Pushing the thoughts away she knew none of this is her concern and she must stay focused on moving.