The amber light cast shifting patterns across Moreau's scaled fingers as she continued tracing the rim of her wine glass. Each revolution created a soft, hypnotic hum that seemed to resonate through the tavern's wooden bones.
"There was a time... a foolish, younger time..." Moreau's gaze drifted past Raven, lost in the amber light. "I believed in things like 'shared adventure.' The beautiful lie of equals sailing toward the same horizon."
Raven shifted in her chair, the leather creaking softly beneath her. Something in Moreau's tone had changed—the theatrical politeness remained, but underneath it lurked something rawer, more personal.
"But experience teaches us that not all horizons are shared," Moreau continued, her voice dropping. "Some ships have a star that burns so brightly... it casts the rest of the crew in shadow."
⚓
Twenty-three years ago, aboard the Eternal Paradox
