A Deal With The Devil

Not often did she have to strain to read another being. She prided herself on the ability to distinguish emotions and intentions from body-language. Nox could not say, in that case, what went on behind those violet eyes. When she looked into them, it was like peering into a dense fog with no distance between one’s nose and the hazy veil laid before their eyes. Every so often she managed to make out the shape of something that resembled empathy, but it flittered by quick. She was a storybook of a million blank pages and Nox would have loved nothing more than to see them filled with ink.

Nox dragged her eyes up and down the slender image of the stranger before them—not in a sensual manner though she did find the white-lady rather attractive. No, it was much more like being caught in a spider’s web. Rather than to struggle, Nox waited patiently for the spider to come down and wrap her in a blanket of silk, knowing damn well it wouldn’t end peacefully.  After some time, she did indeed come down from her web and did so with just as much grace and intricacy as an arachnid. Even though she could not afford to become distracted, Nox found herself utterly ensnared by the lights as they danced across her alabaster pelt like bits of fire.

When the siren's voice again called out to them, she felt inclined to respond but found herself lacking the words. “Uh...hm?" She blinked furiously, trying to tether herself to reality. After some time, she managed to string together a semi-intelligent sentence. "Oh, yes! Sorry. The same could be said for most of us wanderers." It was more of a jest than a philosophical debate, but she could relate to the statement. After everything that happened, it was hard to say who she really was anymore. There was nothing unique about a lost soul. They were all lost in one shape, form, or fashion. Intelligent eyes swept a playground of stone and fire. If she inched much closer to the edge, the sweltering ground would threaten to burn her paws. However, the lovely-stranger seemed unperturbed, sweeping toward them with elegance. As she approached, Nox relaxed even further in a display of both confidence and faith. She would have laid down on the concrete if it would not have strained her neck to look up at such an intense angle. Height was not the only difference between them, but it was the more drastic.

Names were swapped and finally, she had something solid to call the phantom. One question answered but many remained. “The feeling is mutual, I assure you.” The picturesque sight of her upon that perch was nothing compared to being up-close: Not simply just because of her beauty but because of something Nox had a hard time putting to words. “Boreas? Is that what these lands are called?” With no guide to ferry them through the wilds, it had gone on nameless. Of course, she was not surprised to find that these lands had a name, but as an amateur geographer, she was very disappointed.

“But to answer the question, I have two answers. My adventurers’ spirit being one and the other…” Nox paused as to consider her next words. “I’m looking for someone. Well… someone(s), plural.” Their list of missing seemed to fluctuate day-by-day. She'd not managed to come any closer to finding her daughters, but Nox had found a few that she didn’t even know she was looking for. “These lands are vast so I doubt the possibility that you have come across them but just in case. Have you perchance seen a striped canine with a foreign accent or two girls both black and white in color, one with green eyes and the other yellow?” There was a faint hope that the reason they had found each other was for that purpose and not just coincidence. Nox had nothing else but hope, and she would have given her soul to know if her daughters or brindle-furred friend were alright.