The mist never truly left. Even as dawn rose, painting the sky in pale gold, the veil of gray clung stubbornly to the valley, curling around broken beams and shattered lantern glass.
The village smelled of smoke and fear. Where laughter and music had filled the air only hours ago, there was now silence broken only by the sound of weeping and rebuilding.
Iris sat on the wooden bridge, her sketchbook open on her lap. The pages trembled in her hands, filled with frantic lanterns she had drawn in the heat of the battle. Some lines were smudged where her sweat and tears had blurred them. Yet when she touched the paper, she swore she could still feel a faint warmth—as if the light she'd sketched lingered, refusing to fade.
Her chest ached with the memory of those shadow-claws tearing through the village, the glimpse of Seraphine in the mist, the fleeting sorrow in her eyes.
She didn't notice Luna until a cloak settled around her shoulders.
"You're cold," Luna murmured, sitting down beside her. Her fingers brushed Iris's, grounding, steady.
"I should have drawn faster," Iris whispered, her throat tight. "Maybe more people would've been saved."
Luna shook her head firmly. "You saved them. Iris, without you, none of us would have made it through the night. Don't carry blame that isn't yours."
Iris turned toward her, searching her face, and found not just determination but fierce devotion. It was enough to pull a trembling smile from her lips. "How are you always so sure of me?"
"Because you're my light," Luna said simply.
---
A Fragile Peace
The villagers worked together to repair their broken homes. Despite the scars of the attack, they refused to sink into despair. Children helped sweep glass, elders wove new lanterns from bamboo, and men rebuilt bridges with steady hands.
Selene stood apart from it all, her cloak draped over her shoulders, her sword never far from reach. Her eyes swept the mist constantly, as though expecting Seraphine to step out at any moment.
The elder woman approached her, leaning heavily on a carved cane. "You carry too much weight for one soul," she said, studying Selene.
Selene didn't answer.
"You cannot out-stare the mist, child," the elder continued. "It will not yield to your will. Only light can do that."
A shadow flickered across Selene's face. "And what if the light belongs to someone I failed?"
The elder's eyes softened, but her reply was firm. "Then help her find it again."
Selene walked away before the words could sink deeper, but Iris, listening from a distance, felt them strike true.
---
A Quiet Date
That evening, Luna tugged Iris away from the bustle of the village. "Come with me," she said, her voice softer than usual, almost shy.
They walked until they reached the edge of the stream where the mist parted enough to reveal a small grove of wildflowers glowing faintly under the moonlight. Someone—perhaps the villagers long ago—had left a bench there, worn smooth by years of use.
Luna sat first, patting the space beside her. Iris joined her, curious.
"After everything…" Luna hesitated, then smiled faintly. "I thought maybe we deserved something that isn't fire and blood."
Iris's heart swelled. "Like a date?"
Luna flushed, but nodded. "Yes. Our first real one, maybe."
They sat shoulder to shoulder, their fingers tangling together. Luna pulled a small pouch from her cloak and revealed two sweet rice cakes wrapped in banana leaves, clearly gifted by the villagers. She handed one to Iris, and for a while, they ate in companionable silence, listening to the water's gentle flow.
Iris leaned her head on Luna's shoulder. "You know… I never imagined my first date would be in the middle of a cursed mist."
Luna chuckled quietly. "I never imagined I'd fall in love at all."
The honesty in her voice made Iris's chest tighten. She tilted her head up, kissing Luna softly, tasting sweetness still on her lips. The kiss lingered, tender and unhurried, a promise of more nights like this even in the shadow's grip.
When they finally parted, Iris whispered, "Then let's make more dates. As many as we can."
Luna smiled. "Deal."
---
Selene's Warning
Their peace didn't last.
Selene found them the next morning, her expression grim. She held something in her hand—a strip of black fabric embroidered with silver threads, folded neatly.
"She was here," Selene said.
Iris's breath caught. "Seraphine?"
Selene nodded once, her jaw clenched tight. "This was left at the edge of the village. No footprints. No sound. Just… this."
Luna frowned, taking the fabric. The threads shimmered faintly, almost alive. "It's a message."
Selene's voice was raw. "It's a lure. She's telling me she's watching. And she's daring us to follow."
For the first time, Iris saw fear flicker openly in Selene's eyes. Not for herself—but for them.
---
Iris's Revelation
That night, Iris couldn't sleep. She sat by the dying fire, sketchbook open. Her hand moved almost on its own, as though guided by something unseen. She drew the strip of fabric, line by line, until the page pulsed faintly with light.
When she touched it, the sketch shimmered—and suddenly she saw more.
A vision bloomed before her: Seraphine, standing in the mist, lanterns surrounding her. But these lanterns weren't filled with fire—they burned with shadow, flickering like dying stars.
Her eyes lifted, meeting Iris's directly through the vision. And in that gaze was not hatred, but aching sorrow.
Iris gasped, slamming the sketchbook shut. Her hands trembled. Luna stirred awake, immediately kneeling beside her. "What happened?"
Iris whispered, "She isn't just hunting us. She's… she's calling."
---
Decision at Dawn
By sunrise, the three women gathered at the bridge once more. Villagers pleaded with them to stay, to protect the valley, but Iris knew now that sanctuary was an illusion. The shadows would come again, stronger.
"She's waiting," Iris said, her voice firm despite the fear twisting in her stomach. "And if we keep running, more villages will fall. More people will die."
Luna reached for her hand instantly. "Then we face her. Together."
Selene hesitated. Her fingers curled tightly around the black fabric, her face etched with conflict. At last, she looked at Iris, something fragile breaking in her voice.
"If you walk this path, there's no turning back. Seraphine isn't just my shadow to face—she's all of ours. And she will not show mercy."
Iris squeezed Luna's hand, then extended her other toward Selene. "Then we give her something stronger than mercy. We give her light."
For a heartbeat, Selene didn't move. Then, with a shuddering breath, she took Iris's hand.
The mist thickened, curling around them like a veil, as though the shadows themselves were listening. Somewhere within, Seraphine waited.
And for the first time, Iris wasn't afraid of what she might draw next.