“What do you mean? Wait, please explain ghost lady! I won’t break any hearts, thats mean…” Cirice calls after her as the ghost disappears.

Frowning Cirice starts to argue, to say she didn’t really help, she just talked to the spirit. But Cyran seems upset, almost… afraid. Just who was that ghost?

“Yeah of course I want to help…” She sets her hand on Cyran's but the elder elf quickly draws away, trying to focus on the task at hand and leaving Cirice to ponder what just happened on her own. The ghost said she wouldn’t be a ghost for long, does that mean she’ll pass on soon? Mother Moon surely wouldn’t keep her here without reason if she’s a cleric. Perhaps Mother Moon has a plan for Cyran that the ghost is helping with, Cyran does seem to be at least a little familiar with her goddess, perhaps theres something that happened in Cyran’s past that he needs guidance with… But the spirit seemed mean almost. The comment about her breaking Cyran’s heart someday really hurt her feelings. Was Cyran used to having their feelings hurt? How can she help her new friend? Obviously talking about the spirit hurt their feelings, but…

Cyran is at the front of the caravan, helping dig the lead wagon out. Cirice comes over and ineffectually works beside her, having Ur help again¹.

“Cyran? Promise me that we’ll be friends forever? Please?” Her voice is quiet as she makes this selfish request, twisting her worry into magic that seeps into her words. “Promise me you’ll talk to me and let me help you with whatever you need, no matter what it is²?”

---

1 Summon Minor Minion
2 Smooth Talking

Cyran’s focus was still so frazzled that she almost missed Cirice coming up to her side and getting to work digging out the wagon from the snow. Next to her, Ur manifested from the shadows once more, digging their paws into the densely packed ground. When she looked up at Cyran, worry and hurt brimming in her bright eyes- a look she shouldn’t ever have to wear.

Cyran blinked as Cirice repeated the request she’d made earlier, but there was an uncertain desperation in her voice now, as if she needed to know the answer right now, to know that Cyran would lean on her when she was not strong enough to stand on her own.

And…

That was no burden an adult should ever have to put on any child. These worries, uncertainties about Rowan and what it meant if she truly had returned as a spirit to haunt Cyran, were things she was meant to protect Cirice from, not trouble her with.

Cyran’s shoulders were not strong, but by god would she bear the world on her back it it meant taking those burdens away from her kids.

Cirice cared about her. Cirice worried. That was enough to keep her going, force her to hide her fear under layers of calm.

She just had to be stronger.

Cyran straightened, holding out her hand for Cirice, hand curled into a fist with her pinky extended. There was not much she could offer except her own word, the promise to banish those evil thoughts away. It never felt like enough, but she would give Cirice all she could and more.

And right now, that meant making the same kind of promise she once used to make to Marlow. “We’ll always be friends, Cirice. Trust me- this kind of promise is unbreakable.” She smiled, pouring as much conviction into her words as she could. “And you’ve already helped me. You help me by being friends with Iryla. I only have one request for you, and it’s an important one, okay?”

She leaned forward, lowering her voice, as if sharing a solemn secret between them. “I want you to continue watching over Iryla. You two are good friends for one another, and I will feel safer knowing that the two of you have each other’s backs. And the three of us… we will take care of one another.”

And Cyran would make sure that the two of them were safe and cared for, and she would keep Rowan far away from them.

“You’ve already chased the spirit away. She won’t bother us anymore.”

And in that moment, that was the truth- Cyran would not allow herself to be plagued with thoughts of the past, not while she had the present to focus on. And for once in her life, that didn’t look so bleak.

Reaching out to wrap her pinky with Cyran’s Cirice accepts the promise solemnly, as if it were as binding as selling her soul. “So long as you promise so do I. The three of us, together. I’ll watch over Iryla with all I have. I’d already promised that, she’s my best friend after all. I would do anything for Iryla.”

She holds their pinkies together and stares intently at the space behind each of Cyran’s shoulders, making sure no shred of ghost is lingering behind before she nods. “If she does come back let me know. I’ll find a way to get rid of her for good, I promise that too.” She lifts their joined hands up once and lets them fall and then says something in her native tongue to seal their promise. “Yubikiri genman, uso tsuitara hari senbon nomasu. There, now its sealed forever.” She lets go and gives him a warm smile and then pulls the elder elf into a tight hug. “Whatever scares you about the ghost lady I hope you know that nothing will harm you as long as I can help it.”

---

 [Note: Pink swears actually originate in Japan in the 1600s and are called yubikiri, "finger cut-off" and the confirmation that Cirice said is traditionally and translates to "Pinky swear, ten thousand punches, whoever lies will be made to swallow a thousand needles."]

Cyran didn’t miss the way Cirice’s eyes still lingered behind her shoulder, waiting for the moment the incorporeal spirit made her return. The action sent a spike of fear through Cyran’s heart- instinctually, she glanced behind her- but there was no one there besides the other merchants at work digging the cart out.

But then Cirice grabbing her pinky pulled Cyran back out of her thoughts. She blinked, tilting her head to the side as she tried to figure out the meaning of the words Cirice said. It was no language she could understand, but one she recognized as the native tongue of the Crescent Isles. When Cirice finished her spell- not one woven from the arcane, but between the words and care that had been fostered between two people- she pulled Cyran in for a tight hug, a motion that Cyran wholeheartedly reciprocated.

The tremble in her hands had disappeared by now.

“I trust you.” She murmured.

The truth was, Cyran wasn’t even sure what this appearance meant herself. Rowan’s death had been a decade ago by now- not particularly long in the terms of his life, but that incident had been the catalyst of a lot of change in Cyran’s life. Her exile, the fragmentation of her family… her discovery that she had not come out of the altercation entirely unscathed. That she now held the same magic in her body that Rowan once coveted. She had come to terms with it now- while that part of her was twisted and ugly, it was a necessary evil for Cyran if she wanted to survive. But Rowan was supposed to be gone. She had died, her body and spirit supposedly reclaimed by the demons she’d worshipped in her pursuit of power. She had not been a good person, not before she’d turned to demonology, nor after she drove herself mad with magic.

So what did that mean that a part of her still lived in Cyran?

“She… she can’t hurt me, Cirice.” Or at least, Cyran hoped. If she was truly haunted, she needed to turn to an expert- needed to learn more about this ghost. Could Rowan grow stronger, until she could hurt the people Cyran loved the most? If that was the case, Cyran could no longer allow herself to remain close to them before she corrupted them, too. She just needed to find an expert in ghosts- someone who could tell her that her fears were all in her head, that Rowan wasn’t strong enough to warp her life from beyond the grave.

If only Cyran was that lucky.

But Cyran was no longer the timid, unsure person she’d been during their marriage. If Rowan was determined to sink her claws into her, then she’d fight back with all of she had.

“She doesn’t scare me. Not anymore.” Cyran swore just as firmly as Cirice had promised to protect her. “Now, what do you say we get back to work? There’s a warm meal in store for us the sooner we get back to the Pale City.” And Cyran had a new name to add to her list, and a new person to collect a trinket for.

“Okay. Let’s get these men home.” Cirice admires Cyran’s strength and courage. She noted the way that Cyran had reacted to the ghost’s presence and it worried her that this person and Cyran seemed to have some history and not a particularly good one from the way her demeanor had shifted subtly. Cyran is so strong and caring, she obviously doesn’t want to burden Cirice with whatever is going on. Silently, Cirice makes an extra vow to herself, she’ll find a way to rid Cyran of the ghost just in case she comes back. With Mother Moon’s help there must be a way. “When we get back to the city let’s celebrate with warm drinks and go shopping, okay? I want to hear more about you, I feel like I’ve done most of the talking about myself.”

The two elves get back to work helping the cart move forward slowly, but every bit of progress counts as they slowly make their way back towards the safety and warmth of the Pale City.

“Warm drinks sound wonderful.” Not just because Cyran could desperately use some heat, but because she wanted to spend more time with Cirice… without the danger of the blizzard and monsters that lurked in the snow. She managed a small laugh as Cirice expressed that she felt like she didn’t know much about Cyran. Talk about myself, hm? There wasn’t much to say, and even less that Cirice would find interesting. Talking about herself was… a foreign thing. A decade of being by herself, keeping her head down and avoiding people had made her somewhat of a bore, she was afraid. Cyran didn’t possess the effortless ability to talk and share that Cirice had. “Of course. Whatever you want to know.”

She supposed it was a good time to try.

There was warmth in her voice, the promise she would tell Cirice anything the younger elf wanted to hear. Within reason, of course. She wasn’t ready to talk about Rowan- that was a burden Cirice didn’t need to bear. But those topics could be left in the cold of the snow, while Cyran and Cirice- and the merchants- would be safe and warm, where the dark thoughts could not touch them.

Progress was agonizingly slow, but every little bit helped. With Cirice’s natural optimism, and the goal in sight, they kept each other’s spirits high with stories and music and joyous laughter to combat the blizzard. It took another day and a half, with little rest, for the towering peaks of Pale City skyscrapers to finally cut through the haze of snow. Cyran could have collapsed in relief the moment a frost-covered path finally came into view… but she held herself together until the moment they crossed the threshold of the city proper.

They’d made it back. Everyone was safe.

The feeling that came with saving lives was a rare one, but one that Cyran had come to treasure. Even better, she’d found, was the feeling of saving lives with someone you cared about.

She wished the feeling would last.

It would fade later, but Cyran would hold onto it for as long as she could. For now, she and Cirice would celebrate a job well done.

Cirice holds on to the promise of hearing more about Cyran and her life and that carries her through the rest of their journey back to the city. She entertains the caravan with silly songs and little feats of magic, keeping them warm and their spirits high. All the while keeping an eye on Cyran’s back, watching and waiting for more evidence of the ghost. Noting that her vigil makes Cyran uncomfortable she tries to hide it, unfortunately she has all the subtlety of a fire. Luckily it slips to the back of her mind as they enter the city and the promise of warmth and comfort becomes a reality.

They head back to the Winter’s Howl with the caravan safely meeting the grumpy men back within, confused as they are with the new female Cyran, and getting their payday before filling their bellies with hot food and warm cider.

“We did it! Our adventure was a success! I can’t wait to tell Iryla all about this!” Cirice happily raises her glass towards Cyran for a toast. “To new friends!”

During the journey, Cyran could periodically feel Cirice’s eyes on her back- she didn’t try to hide any attempts that she was still keeping an eye out for the spirit she’d seen, and if she was trying to hide it… well, Cyran couldn’t imagine her making a career out of stealth anytime soon. It was rather endearing though, all things considered. A decade of solitude had made Cyran accustomed to looking out for herself. Even with allies now, she still wasn’t used to the feeling of having others wanting to protect her, as well.

She could only hope that Rowan had not made a return.

Even someone as practiced at keeping a cool expression as her could not hide the unease that had crept into her bones and made its home there at the possibility that Rowan had returned to this world once more. What did she want with Cyran? But the elven woman who’d once been Cyran’s spouse remained as unpredictable in death as she did in life. No matter how much Cyran mulled it over, she couldn’t piece it together. Rowan had desired absolute power in life, to become greater than the gods themselves.

Perhaps she lingered near Cyran because she sensed some shred of power in her, and somehow, that prospect was even more frightening.

Despite Cyran’s anxieties, and Cirice’s watchful eye, Rowan did not manifest for the rest of the trip. She’d made her mark, and that doubt would never fully be erased from Cyran or Cirice’s minds.

By the end of the second day, they’d made their way back to the Winter’s Howl, where the merchants met back up with the caravan leader, they were properly paid for a successful mission. The merchants set off for their deal, not wanting to waste any time, leaving Cyran and Cirice to celebrate on their own with as much food and drink as it would take to warm them back up.

“To new friends.” Cyran repeated as she raised her glass in a toast, taking a polite sip. The hot cider nearly scalded her throat with its temperature- Cyran coughed, patting herself to avoid choking on it. “I was beginning to think I’d never experience warmth again.”

Blizzards, she’d decided, were horrible things. Cyran never wanted to set foot in one again if she could avoid it. She wished she could forget the biting cold, the bitter feeling of numbness that had set into her body, made her limbs sluggish and unresponsive. No, that wasn’t true. Loathe as Cyran was to recall how the snow had felt as the last vestiges of frostbite melted away, she could not will her memories away. Good or bad, they all meant something. And that was worth holding onto, no matter how unpleasant they were.

She set the cup of cider down, a wistful sigh passing through her lips that she covered up with a small smile she hoped was at least more positive than she felt. This was meant to be a celebration, after all.

“You mentioned you wanted to do shopping after drinks.” She recalled. Hadn’t shopping been the reason Cirice had been so out of sorts she was looking for work in the first place? Perhaps someone should sit down and help her with money management one of these days…

“What are you looking for?” Cyran wasn’t one for shopping sprees, but she had already promised Cirice that she would accompany her. Not to mention that this would be a good opportunity to pick up a ribbon for Iryla’s gift, and perhaps a trinket for Cirice herself.

“I would like to go shopping but I’m not really looking for anything in particular. I just want an excuse to hang out more. Unless you’ve got something you need to attend to…. I just kind of float around doing random jobs wherever Mother Moon leads me, but if you have a real job you’re working on I don’t want to pull you away from it. I don’t really have any plans after this so I’m just winging it!” Cirice giggles, giving Cyran a wide smile. She's loath to end their travels together as its been so fun and she really feels a connection with the older elf. She can see why Iryla loves Cyran so much, Cyran is wonderful, a great parent that she's beyond grateful to have gotten to meet.

"I'm really glad I met you Cyran, Mother Moon really blessed me leading me here. Thanks for everything!"

“An excuse to spend time together, hm?” Cyran laughed. “I think I can manage that. I have a few things I need to pick up myself. A ribbon for Iryla’s gift, and…” A trinket for Cirice, who had integrated herself so seamlessly into Cyran’s life already it was like she’d always belonged there. “Well, the last thing is a surprise.”

She nodded along as Cirice described her plans.

“I don’t have a job lined up next, either.” She admitted. “My plan was to head back to Darkveil… and perhaps deliver Iryla’s gift.” Once she returned to the city she would see what jobs needed tending to in her absence. It would be a return to the usual. Saving people like she had today, that was a rare treat. But eventually the clock had to strike midnight, and Cyran would have to return to being the Specter again. At least this time, he’d gotten to meet Cirice. That in itself was worth it. She was just about to voice as much to the young lady, when Cirice beat her to the punch, and Cyran’s heart melted. Her throat felt thick as she tried to swallow, forcing herself to take a sip of her drink to hide her face behind her mug and conceal the tears that threatened to fall.

“I’m truly happy to have met you too, dear.” She replied, though she doubted the words sounded very elegant, or even that understandable, from the emotions choking her. She did not thank Mother Moon for this meeting, but she was endlessly glad she’d decided to take a seat at Cirice’s table only a few days ago. “And it’s me who should be thanking you.” Gods, she’d been a bit of an emotional wreck these past few days, hadn’t she? Cyran wiped at her eyes with her sleeve before finishing off the last of her drink, offering Cirice her arm to take.

“Let’s get shopping, then.”

The storm had thankfully died down enough that the two didn’t have any problems navigating the marketplace. Cyran spotted a couple of coats that looked nice, and would have been especially helpful if she’d spotted them only a few days earlier. But she couldn’t be too mad, not with Cirice dragging her through shops and asking them to try on dresses together. By the end of the day, she was endlessly tired, but Cirice looked bright and happy, so that made the trip a success in her eyes. At one of the clothing stores, while Cirice was trying on a new cloak, a piece of jewelry in one of the display windows caught her eye.

A purple bracelet, modeled after a snake, one that the jeweler explained contained a protective measurement on the inside should Cirice ever find herself in trouble. It was perfect - Cyran quickly purchased it and asked for it to be wrapped, smiling all the while. By the time Cirice had finished and they were all outside, Cyran could barely contain her happiness as she handed it to the younger girl. “Here. I told you I collect trinkets for my loved ones. You’re a part of that tradition now.”

It was as they were wandering back to the inn however, their successful shopping trip drawing to a close, that Cyran and Cirice were pulled over by one of the merchants that had hired them to rescue the caravan. “I’ll have to admit you two are pretty competent.” He said begrudgingly. “If you’re lookin’ for more work, I might have a job that’ll interest you. A tomb, down in Zeinav, that supposedly belongs to some old sultan. Excavators can’t crack the front door, and they’ve issued a call to all adventurers. The pay is nice… might be worth checking out if you’re in the market for a new job.”

“A tomb?” Cyran’s brows furrowed as she glanced at Cirice, trying to gauge her interest. She had said that she was wandering while looking for new work… Cyran wondered if she would chase after this offer, too. If so, Cyran would simply follow along, too. Still… she didn’t exactly like the sound of it. Dangerous things happened under Zeinav’s sands. “What’s the catch? Is it cursed?”

“No catch.” The merchant shrugged. “They just can’t seem to find anything strong enough to get through the enchantment on the door. Officials are pretty sure that the heavy protection just means there’ll be more treasure on the inside. Besides… everything down there’s pretty much long dead, anyways.”

Cyran still didn’t like the sound of it, but…

“We’ll think about it.” She promised, already knowing that if Cirice wanted to go, Cyran would be right behind her. In a way, her decision had already been made. And if that tomb really was dangerous, then it was something they would face it together. Cyran would make sure of that.

Cirice’s eyes alight with joy being presented with the gift. To know she’s important enough to Cyran to merit being a loved one makes her feel so treasured, she clutches the box to her chest and tries not to cry as she carefully unwraps the bracelet and admires it like its the most precious thing she’s ever seen. “Thank you Cyran, I’ll treasure it forever!” She throws her arms around Cyran’s neck and nuzzles into her embrace, trying not to cover her in her happy tears. She wears the snake bracelet proudly, vowing to never take it off.

As they walk back to the inn she’s got a spring in her step and her hand clasped around Cyran’s like a happy child. When the merchant comes to offer them a possible job together she jumps at the chance, excited for another opportunity to work alongside her new beloved friend. “Another adventure together? Let’s go! It can’t be worse than the blizzard! You and me, we’ll go find more cool things to give Iryla, right Cyran?!?” Her eyes twinkle with excitement as she imagines all the wonderful things they might see and do. “I’ve never been to Zeinav, I want to go there the first time together!”

She was sure that no matter what happened they’d have fun and overcome any obstacle together. Like a family should.