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Agnea shivered in her bedroll; she still wasn't used to the stark difference between night and day in the lands of Hinoeuma. The group rested near a stream, sheltered by a circular rock formation. She rolled onto her side, and a smile tugged at her lips as she recognized the sleeping forms of her traveling companions. However, she saw that one bedroll was empty. She sat up, and the movement of shadows not too far away caught her eye. As she stood, she grabbed and wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, and her footsteps were light so as not to disturb her sleeping companions as she made her way to the edge of camp.
Despite the chill in the air, she had grown fond of nights in Hinoeuma, especially the way the sands sparkled in the moonlight. She followed the path of the stream, and saw several groups of white flowers, their petals thick and long, and wondered how she had missed seeing them during the day.
She soon spotted Throné sitting at the edge of the stream, near where it fed into a small oasis, and the white flowers had grown more numerous. She was about to call out, but instead froze when she saw threads of darkness dancing around Throné. With a flick of her wrist, the threads began to gather in Throné's palm, twisting into the shape of an orb, and despite being made of shadow, it seemed to sparkle like a crystal. Agnea could do nothing but stare, mesmerized.
The orb vanished as Throné closed her fingers, and she let out a low chuckle. "Since you're still awake too, you may join me if you'd like," she said to Agnea.
Agnea jolted and hurried to sit beside Throné on the sands, and her blood felt strangely stirred by Throné's attention on her. "Nothing gets by you!" she said with a giggle.
Throné smiled, faint yet sincere. Agnea's heart skipped a beat; since confronting the man she called "Father" in Montwise and learning of her birth mother, Agnea had worried endlessly about her, so even that small smile was a relief to see. "I would almost think you wanted me to notice you," she replied, her teasing tone sending a shiver down Agnea's spine.
Agnea laughed again; she rather liked it when Throné looked at her like that. "And you might be right," she said, glad of the night to hide her blush. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"
As she did more often these days, Throné touched the collar around her throat. With one key already in hand, she only needed now to obtain the second from the woman she called "Mother." She was silent a moment longer, and her smile faded. "Nights here are oddly calm," she murmured.
"Especially compared to how hot the days are!" Agnea exclaimed, stretching her legs toward the stream, and her heels just barely grazed the surface of the water.
"It won't be much longer until we reach Sai."
"That's where Giselle said my mother performed twenty years ago. I hope I can find someone who remembers her…"
"Your mother, hm?" Throné's face fell for a moment, and then turned toward Agnea. "You said she taught you wind magic, didn't you?"
Agnea nodded. "She taught me and Pala, although Pala didn't take to it as easily."
"I have heard that wind magic can be quite… volatile." Again Throné let out a low chuckle, and Agnea's heart beat harder against her chest. "Your magic is particularly beautiful."
"O-Oh, it's nothin' too special, especially compared to Mama's," Agnea stammered, and blushed at the sound of her natural accent slipping out. "A-And I think your magic is real beautiful too!"
Rare surprise crossed Throné's face, and she eyed Agnea dubiously. "My dark magic," she said flatly.
"Well, it's true! I've always thought so! And you were just makin' that pretty crystal and all…"
A sigh fell from Throné's lips. "…I know that was an odd use of my magic, but I was inspired by you using your magic to help the group earlier."
The heat of embarrassment in Agnea's cheeks only grew stronger. "I was tryin' to dust the sands off everyone's things, but I just ended up makin' a mess of everythin'," she muttered, too quickly to suppress her country mouse accent.
"Even so, you wanted to use your magic to help others." Throné held out her hand, and with a soft chant, a sphere of darkness appeared above her palm. "But how can my magic be of help?"
Agnea opened her mouth, about to say that Throné's magic was useful when fighting monsters and other dangers on the road, but seeing the forlorn expression on Throné's face, she instead remained silent.
"Your magic was a gift from your mother, a gift of love," Throné whispered, so quietly that Agnea had to strain to hear her. "One could say that my magic was also a gift from my 'parents,' but not one of love. My magic is that of the dark underside of society, the shadows that hide the terrors of night."
"But the night can be beautiful too," Agnea blurted out before she could even think about the words.
Throné scoffed, but in her stormy gaze Agnea saw a sliver of hope. "How so?" she asked carefully as she closed her fingers and her magic vanished.
Agnea's mouth went dry; whenever Throné looked at her like that, she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in that deep gaze. "Well, it's beautiful now, ain't it?" she said as she shot to her feet and spread her arms wide. She paused, inhaling deeply and trying to again speak in her practiced city accent. "We wouldn't be able to see these stars without the dark, after all. And when I was little, I used to be afraid of the dark, but once my mother told me that when you're tired, the night is like a blanket that helps you fall asleep!" She was rambling now, but she found that she couldn't stop herself.
For a moment Throné simply stared wide-eyed at Agnea, and Agnea's heart began to sink as silence fell over them. Finally, Throné chuckled, a quiet, sweet sound. "You really can see the good in everything," she said. "I'm a little jealous, I think."
"I meant what I said," Agnea muttered, and still her cheeks burned as she quickly sat beside Throné again. These days she felt like she was making a fool of herself in front of Throné more often than not.
Yet Throné seemed unaware of Agnea's embarrassment as she again touched the dark collar around her throat. A sudden surge of anger flared in Agnea; she hated that collar, hated that Throné had to bloody her hands to unlock it, but saying so out loud would change nothing, she knew. Throné looked up at the night sky, her profile softly illuminated by the starlight. Agnea's breath caught in her throat, again struck by Throné's beauty. Silence lingered over the two of them, and Agnea's gaze traveled from Throné's lovely face to her slender throat bound by that horrid collar, and then to her ample bust and generous cleavage, and finally to her graceful hands, capable of both great harm and gentle warmth.
And one of those graceful hands touched a blooming flower, running a finger along the white petals, and Throné whispered, "Did you know that there are flowers that only bloom at night?"
"Oh, no, I didn't know that…" Agnea said just as quietly, and her hand also reached out to touch the flower, barely brushing against Throné's. "Is this flower one of that kind?"
"I believe so, yes."
"So that's why I didn't notice them earlier…"
Throné turned to face Agnea, starlight caught in her eyes. "Are you still frightened of the dark?" she asked carefully. "What we've seen on our travels together…"
"Compared to the rest of you, I really am naïve and sheltered, huh?" Agnea paused a moment, laying her hand over Throné's. "And you're right, the night can be terrifying, and I never imagined there could be such evil people in the world. But when I'm with you, I feel stronger, especially at night, so I know there's nothing to be afraid of."
"You would trust me so?" Throné's fingers curled around Agnea's, hesitant yet longing.
"Of course! You're kind and strong, and I only wish I could be as elegant as you!"
"And I wish I could be as bright as you." Throné slid her hand beneath Agnea's hair, cupping the back of her head, and she couldn't help but shiver at the touch of those graceful fingers. "You know, snakes don't thrive so well in the dark. They're always seeking out warmth, trying to find their way to the light…"
Agnea raised her own hand to Throné's face, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Everyone deserves the dawn."
"Even me?"
"Even you."
Throné let her hand fall to her side as she stood. "Could you dance for me? I'd like to try something with my magic, if you'd permit me."
"Oh, yes! I'd love that!" Agnea also stood and took a few steps back from the edge of the stream to give herself space to dance. "Now, watch me shine!"
Throné's lips curled into a soft smile, a smile much like the moonlight itself.
Agnea fell into the rhythm of the moonstep her mother had taught her, softly singing the familiar lyrics. She moved slower than usual, relishing the chill night air that washed over her. Dancing upon desert sands was different than she was used to, and she felt each and every shift of the sand beneath her feet. Traveling through these lands, she had slipped on the sand more times than she cared to count, but tonight, while she danced, the Lady of Grace saw fit to bless her.
As she danced, she saw Throné's lips move, and gentle shadows began to gather beside her. A soft, shining violet, the shadows slowly took form, and she nearly gasped upon recognizing Throné's silhouette in that form. The shadow was flat, more so than a sheet of paper, and only the color of night with no discernable features, but staring at it was like staring into a star-filled sky. She nearly stumbled a moment, awestruck, but quickly recomposed herself, and beside her the shadow Throné followed her every movement, dancing alongside her. She giggled to herself, heat again rising to her cheeks, and she sang louder, letting her voice carry into the night. The shadow kept pace with her, and though it wore no expression, Agnea could still see warmth in that darkness.
A gentle wind blew, caressing the petals of the moonlight flowers, and Agnea danced with the darkness as Throné simply watched, wearing a faint smile that Agnea had never seen before on those beautiful lips.
Soon Agnea's dance came to an end, her body growing still, and so too did Throné's shadow. The shadow reached out a hand to touch Agnea's cheek, a cold and gentle touch as it brushed a thumb over her lips. It bent closer to her, their lips almost touching, and its body dissolved into smoky, glittering wisps, vanishing among the stars of the night sky. Agnea watched until she saw nothing more of Throné's magic, and tears stung at the corners of her eyes.
"Beautiful…" was all she could say as she raised a hand to her lips, and still she felt the shadow's touch.
"It seems a rather frivolous use of my magic," Throné said as she came beside Agnea, "but perhaps that isn't such a bad thing either."
Carefully Agnea took Throné's hands, warm and calloused, into hers. "Thank you, Throné. That was fun, really."
"'Fun,' you say." Another quiet chuckle fell from Throné's lips, and she let her fingers lace with Agnea's. "But when I watch you dance, I find myself wanting to share that joy you feel." She pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Agnea's hand. "I want to see the world as beautifully as you do."
Agnea stared up at Throné, and Throné's gaze was as deep as the night sky, as if she had stolen the stars themselves. Flowers waited at their feet, petals much the color of moonlight, a beauty that Throné had shared with Agnea. Throné bent her head, her lips bright against the night, and Agnea lightly kissed those lips, only the briefest of kisses, but a promise of things to come, a promise waiting for them at journey's end. A dream of freedom, and of hope.
They soon returned to camp, and Throné's shadow lingered over Agnea like a gentle embrace.