When Vastarael and Phaenora first stumbled upon the city gates, they were struck by its sheer vibrancy.
The walls weren't the decayed remnants of the Frozen Ruins they had expected. Instead, the gates stood tall and proud, constructed of polished white stone that gleamed under the afternoon sun. The bustling crowd of humans going in and out of the gates radiated a sense of purpose and power.
"Alright," Vastarael muttered, adjusting the mask over his face. "We keep a low profile, blend in, and figure out exactly when we are."
"Low profile?" Phaenora asked, her voice dripping with skepticism as she adjusted her own mask that Vastarael had for an extra. "We look like we're about to rob the place. Why are we even wearing these?!"
"Do you want them to recognize us as outsiders?" Vastarael countered.
"They already think we're outsiders! Look at us! Our outfits say it all!"
Before Vastarael could respond, two guards stationed at the gates locked their gazes on them. Their postures stiffened and their hands moved instinctively to the hilts of their swords.
"Halt!" One of them barked. "State your names and purpose!"
Vastarael stiffened, throwing a quick glance at Phaenora.
"Uh, we're just travelers passing through. No trouble."
The guards exchanged looks. One of them stepped forward, his gaze narrowing as he took in their masked faces.
"Masks? In broad daylight? Suspicious."
"It's for… health reasons!" Vastarael blurted out.
"Health reasons?!" Phaenora hissed under her breath.
The guard's expression didn't soften. Instead, he raised a hand, signaling to the other guards nearby.
"Take them for questioning."
"What?!" Phaenora's voice rose an octave. "We didn't do anything!"
But it was too late. The guards drew their weapons and before long, Vastarael and Phaenora found themselves fleeing through the crowded streets, their masks marking them as fugitives.
______
Hours later, after a frantic escape through the maze-like streets and a harrowing chase into the forest, they finally found refuge in a secluded cave. Exhausted and hungry, they sat on the cold stone floor, a makeshift campfire glowing between them, courtesy of a well drawn Heat Rune.
"You know," Phaenora started as she skewered a piece of meat on a crystal rod, her tone sharp with irritation, "I told you the masks were a bad idea."
Vastarael sighed, prodding the meat on his own stick as it sizzled over the glowing rune.
"It was a precaution."
"A precaution?!" She gestured dramatically with her skewer. "We got chased out of the city because of these stupid masks! They thought we were criminals!"
"Well, to be fair... we did act kind of suspicious."
Phaenora's jaw dropped.
"Suspicious?! Veneri, we look like we're cosplaying as a pair of rogue assassins!"
He couldn't help but chuckle at that. Thanks to her seeing his memories, she could somehow understand and say some terms that were not available in Spheraphase, like cosplaying. He felt like he was talking to someone from his world.
"Okay, maybe the masks were a bit much."
"A bit?"
They fell into a silence punctuated only by the crackling of the rune's heat and the faint chirping of crickets outside. Slowly, the tension eased, and Phaenora leaned back against the cave wall with a sigh.
"This meat better be worth it," she muttered. "Even though you bought it, it's amazing that your inventory keeps things fresh for days, weeks even."
"Don't blame me if it's overcooked. You're the one holding the stick."
As the aroma of roasting meat filled the cave, their conversation shifted to lighter topics. It was as if it was normal for them to escape from overpowered humans with immense speed and agility.
"Do you think ancient humans had better recipes than us?" Phaenora asked suddenly, poking her meat to check if it was done.
"We're literally roasting meat over a rune right now, and you're asking about ancient recipes?"
"I'm serious! I mean, look at them. They're all superhuman and efficient. They probably had amazing food."
"Or... they just ate raw mammoth meat and called it a day. Maybe that's what will happen after this island is covered by ice?"
"Ew. Don't ruin this for me."
Vastarael chuckled, taking a bite of his meat. It was tough and slightly overcooked, but it tasted better than he'd expected.
The conversation drifted as they finished their meal.
"Do you think those guards had families?" Phaenora asked suddenly, leaning back on her elbows.
"What kind of question is that?" Vastarael replied, startled. "You do know that it's a kill or be killed world, right? Are you dealing with emotions now that you have a physical body?"
"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "I just feel bad for outrunning them. Like, what if one of them goes home tonight and tells their kids, 'Daddy couldn't catch the weird fugitives. They were too fast. Heck, I've never seen two people run so fast.'"
"You're overthinking it. They'll probably just think we were ghosts or something."
"Ghosts?!" Phaenora laughed, clutching her stomach. "Oh, that's perfect. We've gone from fugitives to urban legends in one day."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're... bearable tonight. Seriously, is your head okay? Where's my teasing Phaenora?"
"And you're the reason we're roasting meat in a cave instead of sleeping in a cozy inn."
They both laughed, their voices echoing off the cave walls. Despite the chaos of the day, there was a strange sense of comfort in their banter. For a moment, it was easy to forget the ancient world outside, the looming dangers, and the weight of their predicament.
For now, they were just two misplaced beings, sharing a meal and a laugh in a world and time that wasn't theirs.
°°°°°°
The first rays of sunlight filtered through the cracks in the cave, casting a soft, golden glow on Vastarael's face. His eyelids fluttered open and he felt an unfamiliar warmth pressed against him. Blinking groggily, his golden eyes focused, and the sight before him sent his heart racing.
Phaenora's face was mere inches away, her peaceful expression devoid of the usual sass and teasing that filled their conversations. Her soft, sapphire blue hair fanned out around her head and her delicate features were illuminated by the morning light.
What startled him most however, was her position.
Her arms were wrapped tightly around his torso, her legs partially tangled with his. The sheer white nightgown she wore—courtesy of Farrynelle's overly stocked inventory—left little to the imagination. The fabric clung to her figure and he could feel the warmth of her body pressed firmly against his own.
For a moment, Vastarael froze, unsure of what to do. His mind raced.
'This is not ideal. Definitely not ideal.'
Slowly, he slipped his arm free from under her grasp. She stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, and he held his breath. When she settled again, he continued his escape, gently prying her arms away.
Finally free, Vastarael sat up, running a hand through his curly white hair and letting out a shaky breath. He glanced back at her, still fast asleep.
'She looks... peaceful. Almost innocent. Almost.'
Shaking the thought away, he turned his attention to the cave entrance. The events of the previous day played in his mind like a bad dream. The guards, the chase, the masks. How long would they have to hide like this?
As he stood and stretched, his instincts prickled, a faint pressure in the air causing him to tense. He turned his head sharply, his golden eyes scanning the cave.
"No need to be invisible. I can see you clearly."
From the shadows, a figure shimmered into view, her form materializing as though the very air bent to reveal her presence.
The woman appeared to be in her late twenties, her beauty radiant and otherworldly. She stood with a shocked expression, her piercing gaze locking onto Vastarael. Long, cascading hair the color of the sun framed her flawless face, and her robes shimmered faintly, reflecting the light in an almost ethereal manner.
But it wasn't her beauty that caught Vastarael off guard. It was the overwhelming power emanating from her. It was suffocating, like standing in the presence of a raging storm.
His breath hitched and he instinctively moved back.
"You're perceptive," the woman said, her voice smooth and confident. "How did you know I was here?"
Vastarael hesitated, his mind racing. He didn't know who she was or what she wanted, but one thing was clear.
'This woman is too dangerous.'
"I can see souls," he admitted cautiously. "Yours is too bright to miss."
At that, her expression faltered, a flicker of shock crossing her face before she composed herself.
"You can see souls?"
"Yes. And yours... it's blinding. You're a divine being, aren't you?"
The moment the word left his lips, the woman's entire demeanor shifted. Her shock turned to wariness, her eyes narrowing as she took a step back. Her power rippled in the air and Vastarael resisted the urge to brace himself.
"Who are you?" She demanded, her voice sharp now, edged with suspicion.
Vastarael didn't answer immediately. His instincts screamed at him to be careful, to choose his words wisely.
"Just... a traveler. But I could ask you the same thing. What's an divine being doing here, hiding in the shadows?"
The woman's gaze bore into him, searching for any sign of deceit. Her wariness didn't abate, but she didn't attack either.
"You don't belong here."
"Neither do you," he countered, his confidence growing despite the tension in the air.
Behind him, Phaenora stirred, groaning softly as she woke.
"What's with all the noise...?" Her voice trailed off as her eyes landed on the woman. She blinked, her grogginess fading instantly. "Who the hell is that? Why is her soul...?"
The women scoffed before disappearing as suddenly as she had appeared.
Phaenora scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide. She didn't sense the woman at all.
"What just happened? Who was that?!"
"I don't know," Vastarael admitted, his voice tense. "But she was definitely a divine being."
"Here? In this time? I mean sure but... aren't they extremely rare in this era after the Destras Cataclysm? Also, shouldn't they be existing in one place?"
Vastarael nodded, his mind racing.
"It doesn't make sense. This place, this time... it's too far removed from when they should move around. Something's wrong."
"No kidding," Phaenora muttered, crossing her arms. "And you're just casually chatting with her like she's not powerful enough to vaporize us with a sneeze?"
"What was I supposed to do? Challenge her to a duel? She was here hours ago. She would have killed us in our sleep but she didn't."
Phaenora rolled her eyes. "Ugh, whatever. Next time, wake me up before the scary, soul-blinding lady shows up."
Vastarael allowed himself a small chuckle, but his mind remained focused on the encounter. Whoever that woman was, she wasn't an ordinary being. And the fact that she was here, in this ancient time, only deepened the mystery surrounding their presence.
"We need to figure out what's going on," he said quietly.
Phaenora sighed. "Great. More problems. Can't wait."
Despite her sarcasm, Vastarael could see the flicker of unease in her eyes. He didn't blame her.
Whatever lay ahead, it was clear that their time in the Erna Isles was going to be far more dangerous than either of them had anticipated.