Sol stared in wonder. The Oracle seemed stronger than ever. In their early battles, Luna had played a supporting role by slowing the incoming daemons, which Sol then finished off with a shotgun shell at point-blank range or, if she were feeling particularly saucy, with a grenade thrown into a gaping jaw.
But lately, their roles had been reversed. Sol’s barrages usually served to slow the creature, and Luna was the one to bring it down. As they traveled farther along the road, the number of powerful daemons seemed to increase, among them many for which gun and spear alone did not suffice.
The power to absorb the scourge seemed to take a toll on Luna. When the flow of miasma reached its peak, a wrinkle of pain would form on her brow, and she’d grit her teeth. The fact that Sol noticed such little changes in her expression at all was a clear signal of how their roles in battle had shifted.
And the burden on Luna wasn’t limited to their time in battle alone. When the Oracle had been changing her clothes in Wael, Sol had snuck a quick peek at her back and saw that the woman’s milky white skin was covered with sinister black patches. Now those patches were visible even at the edges of her collar and sleeves. In other words, whatever was happening to her, it had gotten that much worse in just a matter of days.
Sometimes, she even caught Luna with her hands pressed against her mouth as if in pain. She seemed determined not to let her symptoms show, but now that the two were spending nearly every moment together, it was impossible for Sol not to see signs of Luna’s apparent agony.
Luna claimed that her power had been bestowed by one of the Six. If so, whichever god had given it sure had a sick sense of humor. Power that caused so much pain didn’t seem like much of a gift, nor any way to motivate someone to carry out some divine calling. Why not give Luna another power that was easier to deal with or change the nature of the power so it didn’t cause her agony? It didn’t seem like something that would be hard for a god to do. So why was it necessary to let Luna suffer?
Whichever god had burdened Luna with such a thing must have been the same one who ignored Sol’s own prayers as a child in Gralea. The gods had given no sign they were worthy of faith, and yet Luna went on believing despite her suffering. It was baffling.
They managed to fell the daemon, but after that, the creatures were everywhere along the road, pack after pack of them, as if openly mocking Sol’s need for haste. In the end, they had to spend another night afield well short of Sol’s destination.
They did not sleep at a minor outpost or even a signal cabin. They simply pitched a tent in a narrow space sheltered by a rock outcrop. To keep the daemons at bay, they placed portable lights at the edges of the camp and built a fire in the center. As one final precaution, they decided to take shifts awake, one keeping watch while the other slept.
Sol continued to be sparing with her words. Lunafreya learned only that their immediate destination was an outpost called Nohm. She was unable to discover why they were headed there or what they intended to do on arrival. Nor had she learned why Sol seemed so distracted and rushed. The other woman’s decision not to share any of these things left Lunafreya feeling forlorn and insecure.
In battle, the pair had developed a strong rapport. They seemed to be well attuned to each other, and for the first time, Lunafreya clearly understood what it meant for two people to have each other’s backs. However, although she felt that she could rely on Sol, she wasn’t sure whether Sol felt the same way about her.
The night was quiet. So quiet that she could hear every little toss and turn from Sol as she slept in the tent. Both the firepit and the artificial lights seemed to be doing a commendable job―Luna sensed no trace of any daemons lurking nearby.
She turned away from the flames and opened the notebook. The light of the fire bothered her. Fortunately, she did not need it. Even at night in this perpetual darkness, she was able to read and write perfectly well without light.
During the day’s breaks, there had been no appreciable amount of conversation. Lunafreya had used the free time to set down her scattered thoughts in the notebook.
Sol, for her part, seemed to be embarrassed about how she’d laid into Lunafreya. At the next break after their conversation and the one after, she’d simply sat in stubborn silence. Lunafreya, not wanting to press the girl, had stayed silent herself.
Unlike the short road breaks, Lunafreya now had a long, uninterrupted block of time―so long that she worried she might doze off. She decided it was better to keep herself busy than risk falling asleep while on watch.
Dearest Noctis,
It is my turn to keep watch, so here I am, tending the campfire. Sleeping outdoors like this is a new experience for me. What was it like for you on your first night camping at a haven? Perhaps you felt the same way that I feel now.
I was also in charge of the meal tonight. It seems I made too liberal a use of spices for my companion’s liking. She went so far as to declare my sense of taste unrefined. Given that her own approach to cooking is quite lax, I hardly think her to be in a position to criticize.
Last night, we found ourselves with an abundance of free time from our arrival at the night’s lodgings until it was time to go to sleep. We spent it in leisure, and Sol taught me a card game. Tonight, however, I suggested that we turn in early. She seems quite exhausted. I sense there is some great worry on her mind and that it has plagued her all day long. She is not her usual self.
I suppose I should mention that while Sol may be somewhat lacking in culinary skills, she is quite a proficient card player. I was impressed by her skill in planning and carefully executing each strategy for victory. Over the course of the evening, I managed not a single win. According to Sol, I am far too transparent in my intentions for my own good, and I let slip my hand too easily. At the time, I felt her accusations rather harsh and flatly refuted them.