Chapter Text
Slipping out of the city was the easy part. The walls were a clear landmark, the troops marching through hid a small figure heading the opposite way. Menphina's heart pounded as she snuck past clanking armor and machinery, and then she was out. She wasn't afraid of being spotted – wrapped in a pale coat as she was, with the storm slowly kicking up around her.
No, it was the storm that scared her, and the horror of emptiness. Menphina could no longer see far in front of her, but it was all… so big. She'd never been in a room larger than the manor’s lounge in a decade. Stepping out onto the ice plains may as well have been an infinite void, with an impossible number of directions to travel.
The very first one she chose was away, opposite the gate she'd exited – angled off from the main road she'd seen the soldiers enter from. As she walked, the storm worsened, visibility dropped further, and her damp coat seemed to do less and less to cut the chill. She was trying to tuck her hands away as much as possible to protect them, but the blood left on her skin had frozen within minutes of getting outside. The snow she stumbled through was at knee height, snow regularly falling into her oversized stolen boots. The tip of her tail, not quite hidden under the coat, had gone numb.
It was too cold, wind too sharp.
The next time she had a clear view of her surroundings, she turned towards the sheer cliffs and mountains. If nothing else, maybe she could find somewhere to huddle that would block the wind. She did not want S'ria to die now that they could finally have a chance to live.
Menphina had hoped for a small niche to shove herself in. She had not thought to find a cave – and expected even less to find one that was so clearly furnished. (Though, luckily, long abandoned).
Being out of the storm already helped, but it also made her feel more keenly how cold and damp she still was. As she explored the cave, eyes quickly adjusting to the lack of light, she found sectioned off living quarters, stocked with bedrolls and blankets. They were dusty and far from clean, and not too pleasant a texture, but the subzero temperatures must have kept the pests and vermin from destroying them.
Menphina also found a nearby heater – her gratitude quickly faded at it being nothing like the ones she knew. There was fuel inside, if not ceruleum then oil at the least, but no way to light it. There were no switches, nor did any manual firestarter kits seem to be placed nearby. She had to resist the urge to kick it in a rare fit of frustration.
Plan B it was.
Convincing herself to remove her coat to hang it up for drying was the hardest part of the night thus far. What few pieces of clothing she had managed to dress herself in, ill-fitting things, at least remained mostly dry – and the same could be said for the supplies left behind here. Laid out across several bedrolls, curled up in as many blankets as she could find, Menphina slept for the first time since leaving.
It was fitful sleep, constantly waking in confusion and then following fear. She half expected someone to show up to drag her back for her crimes – though she doubted she was worth the trouble of this weather.
She dreamed of confused jumbles of moments, of ungentle and unwelcome touch, of the metallic taste of blood, of the give of flesh under teeth, the paradoxical dissociative thrill of falling prey to raw instinct, the warmth of blood on bare skin – and the most disorienting part to waking up from dreams of tearing one horrid man's throat out was that she awoke hungry.
Any search for food was far less successful. Menphina carefully searched the caverns, still wrapped in blankets, and found little of value. The few things that looked as though they were meant to be shelf stable seemed like they too had overstayed their welcome.
There was little to be done for that. Now, it was only resting while the storm raged and looking for anything helpful, trying to stay warm all the while. Eventually, Menphina curled back up on the bedrolls with several books that looked to be in decent condition still.
It was not as though she could read them, but there were at least illustrations to peruse. There were even maps, though she could not say where she was located on them.
Flipping through one tome in particular, one that had somehow been damaged the least by time compared to all the others, Menphina found herself drawn to the illustrations and diagrams with sudden interest. For all their vagueness, they made a strange amount of sense to her. It stirred distant memories of forbidden pacts made for power.
Menphina did not wish for power. She only wished for survival – was that different enough to avoid punishment or trickery? They would never be owned by anyone ever again, human or not, she promised that much.
She laid back down to think it over. The winds of the storm were still audible this deep into the cave, she felt hungry and weak, and her body ached from walking as much as she'd likely done in the last decade combined.
If it came down to it, Menphina would rather they die free. Oh, but hells take her, she wanted S'ria to live – to at least have a chance.
And all present knew she'd not get far as things currently were.
The cave was prepared for this, at least. The structure of the summoning circle was permanently etched into the ground, leaving Menphina to only worry about the sigils and symbols.
She violently shivered for the whole process, only wearing a single blanket so as to not smudge her work with loose drapery. Menphina had made some guesses, based on the book and the objects near the rite circle, and could only hope that she was correct. The box held sticks of chalk and charcoal, and a few narrow knives. The symbols in the book were marked with white, black, and red inks. Surely there was an obvious assumption to be made there?
Hopefully there was no issue if the blood was not 100% her own, but she must confess to a certain amount of… strange satisfaction at the idea of inevitable traces of his blood helping her.
Once nearly everything was inscribed, Menphina spared another moment to think through which it was truly a good idea.
Well… ‘twas not, but what other choices were left?
She could not read to know whether there was any incantation she need say, but it seemed unnecessary – the moment she wrote the final symbol and sat back on her heels, it happened.
There was a brief moment where a hollow void opened before Menphina, and then the room went utterly dark.
Unnaturally so. There was precious little light within the cave at all, but her eyes could adjust well to low light, even in the dead of night. But that was… complete blackness, no matter where her eyes flicked, she could see nothing.
She could feel the new presence in the room, though. The sensation was an odd one. ‘Twas as though the temperature of the room had both raised and dropped at the same moment – chills spread against her skin, somehow new despite the prior subzero temperatures. There, in that darkness, something circled the inside of the summoning sigil and settled in front of Menphina.
She wished she could see it – though perhaps it was not something that was meant to be seen.
«What do you wish for? I have heard many tales.»
The voice was smooth in an inhuman way, as though formed without the imperfections of having a throat.
«Power? Wealth? Love? Admiration? Men have asked us for all that and more.»
“I– I'm not…” Menphina stopped and shook her head. There were moments where protesting that she was not a man may be sensible, but right then did not feel like one of them. “I do not want all that.”
«No, little one, you are… different. Young for your kind, yes?»
Something nearly soft caught on the lilt of the voice.
«What have you called me for? And what have you to give in return?»
A bolt of fear struck Menphina. “Wait, my sight, have you –?”
Laughter rang out and echoed off the cave walls.
«Oh, no, I just prefer it this way. What would blinding you do to benefit me? Cruelty is not a useful bargaining chip to me – personally, I would not even be entertained.»
The air in the room seemed to shudder.
«But to discuss the price, you must tell me what you want.»
Menphina paused, trying to find the words – words that hopefully would not lay a trap for her. “I want to be able to protect ourself, to make it out of this forsaken tundra without dying. I want to never again be weak enough to be kept as a plaything. This body belongs to no one else.”
The darkness hummed around her.
«Oh, poor thing – something terrible has happened to you.»
It sounded… more genuine than sarcastic.
«’Tis power you want after all, yes, but… only just enough, no more than that. What you ask for is within my ability to give.»
Menphina bit her lip, staring at where the ground would be. “What is your name? I would like to know who I am making this deal with. I shall tell you mine first, as a gesture of goodwill – Menphina.”
She had half-expected this entity to question her at some point, as to her gender and name, but it occurred to her that such a thing may not matter or even by understood by what was in the room with her.
«An equal trade – very well. You may call me Luna.»
Menphina nearly laughed, trying to stifle it. Was this a joke? Had this demon thought calling herself Menphina was a cute lie and responded with something fitting in turn? Perhaps it did not know the connotations of the goddess Menphina's domain, perhaps it was merely a coincidence – but that Luna. Menphina knew this word – luna, lunae, she had heard nearly the same in the multiple Garlean dialects spoken around the manor.
No, it would be presumptive to think a being from another realm would be familiar with their gods – it was surely just a strange twist of Fate.
«Now, Menphina – what have you to offer?»
“I – what is needed? I have little of value, I have no money –”
«Your currency serves no use in the Thirteenth. I am expecting something a touch less… concrete, rather something more abstract, in a sense.»
“Less… oh!” Why had she thought this demon could be plied in the same way those around her before could? The logic was all wrong. “I cannot offer you much knowledge or influence in my world. I do not… what appeals to you, Luna? My blood, my companionship, my lifespan – or something more abstract still?”
It(?) They(?) laughed, but it was a more hesitant thing this time.
«Siphoning off your lifeforce is an option, enough not to kill you – but you offer… your companionship? What is that meant to be, what value given?»
Menphina leaned towards the voice, desperation entering her tone. “You cannot stay in this world alone, can you not? If you've come when summoned, surely you want to be here? There are – there are lands somewhere far from here, where the sun is warm and the breeze is gentle. I remember them, I can take you there, if I survive.”
There was a silence, an odd sense of stillness in the room – and yet a sudden feeling of an intangible tether. Had that frantic offer been… somehow acceptable?
Luna began to speak again, somewhere, but Menphina no longer heard her in that moment – the hunger and cold caught up with her again all at once and she curled up, violently shivering.
Immediately, the void shadowing the room receded to its normal darkness.
«Menphina – leave the circle, I can assist you. If you can make it to that heater over there…»
Menphina stood and stumbled out of the circle, a strange feeling of dread prickling at her skin as she passed the threshold. She paused for a moment, suddenly entirely certain that leaving the runes meant leaving her safety behind – that Luna would be easily able to attack her.
But while she felt a presence settle behind her, her own shadow feeling oddly heavy, no more than that occurred.
Menphina's voice was a quiet mutter. “Luna, the heater doesn't work, I already tried.”
«You tried alone. Now try again. Reach inside – just so.»
There was a flicker of shadows moving from Menphina's arm to her fingertips and sudden blue sparks. She jerked her hand back as the oil erupted into flame, settling from blue to a more familiar red.
Oh, the warmth. She leaned into it and finally relaxed as the small area began to heat up. She curled up in blankets again, as close to the heater as she dared, and found sleep calling to her once again.
«Menphina – may I leave your side and seek sustenance for your body?»
Blind to any considerations of whether drastically lengthening Luna's leash may be ill-advised or easily abused, Menphina simply nodded with a tired hum. As she fell asleep, that weight to her shadow vanished.
Luna gazed down at the miqo'te before them. Menphina was a frail thing, small even completely wrapped in blankets. Despite that, her soul shone full and warm. It was tantalizing, really.
It wasn't as though Menphina had been careful, especially leaving the circle while the deal was not yet mutually set. Her insistence on ownership of her body was a good call, it left possession out, but the rest of the terms spoken… technically they could drain Menphina within an ilm of her life and that would be permissible. And now, they were not even purely bound.
Luna considered their options as they left the cave. It would have been easy to abandon Menphina, having fulfilled some terms of the half-pact already – then simply roam the aether-rich world as they saw fit.
Instead, they found themself stalking down some sort of antlered and hooved creature. It would serve as an acceptable meal, and Luna was fairly sure that bringing the carcass back to Menphina would feed her as well.
Probably. They weren't sure what mortals ate, but meat sounded right.
Drusilla pinched the bridge of her nose, regarding the young miqo'te in front of her with an expression that was indiscernible aside from sheer incredulity.
“Do I understand correctly? You made an open-ended pact with a voidsent, with vague terms on both your parts, and then let your avatar freely roam quite far from your side?”
Menphina cringed. “I take it that is far worse than I realized at that time?”
“It's a bleedin’ miracle you haven't left a trail of bodies behind you, is what it is – and that you are still alive and in control. What were you thinkin’, doing something so idiotic?”
Menphina went through many reactions, each for only a moment. Long-ingrained fear from being snapped at, shame, anger – there was a moment where she wanted to lash out and explain that Drusilla had no idea what S'ria had been through, how dare she judge –
That impulse passed as quickly as it came, and Menphina simply lifted her head to meet Drusilla's eyes. “I was not ready to give up on living yet. If nothing else, I wanted to die somewhere warm.”
Drusilla crossed her arms and leaned against her desk. “Well, it's plenty warm here. You still tryin’ to live? If you are, you can't keep goin' on like this – but you don't have to, if you'll hear me out.”