Vera had originally wanted to check out the Hollowmaw Sentinels Caldrin had mentioned before heading back, but the urge had passed. She wasn't exactly tired, but after everything she'd gone through today, she figured it would be smart to get some proper rest. Give her mind a chance to catch up.
And if she was going to sleep anyway… There was no reason to worry about tiring herself out on the way home.
Stillwake appeared in her hand as she turned toward Sablewatch Hollow. She raised the halberd, its ghostly blue-white blade glinting faintly under the moon as she aimed the crown at the dim silhouette of her estate on the opposite end of the valley. Even with her enhanced sight, it was barely visible—a speck of carved stone clinging to the mountainside.
Calling upon more Resonance than she had for any Mark before, she let the blade fall.
Mark of Hollow Reach.
Cinders surged through her veins as the sigils on her knuckles and lower arms ignited. Reality split open before Stillwake, the tear in space pulling Resonance from her core in a heavy rush. Without hesitation, she stepped through.
The next instant, she stood outside the gates to her estate.
A flicker of vertigo slid through her spine but faded quickly. She reached inward, checking her reservoirs, and found that the single invocation had drained more RP than all her Breaksteps and lower-tier Marks today combined. Not enough to alarm her, but enough to notice.
Still, it was better than expected. She'd half-expected a supercharged Fifth Seal like this to wipe most of her pool, but it hadn't. That was nice.
With a practiced spin, Stillwake vanished back into the Vaultring. The gates swung open at her approach, and she crossed the courtyard in silence.
Inside the Ember Gallery, she was surprised to find Caldrin waiting for her, arms folded behind his back, wearing another of those patient smiles.
Her eyes narrowed at him. "…Did you know when I'd be back?"
"If only I possessed such foresight, my lady," Caldrin said smoothly. "But alas, no. I have merely been waiting for the past half hour."
"Why?"
"It is only right that a loyal servant offers what small welcomes he can to his liege's return."
"…Alright." She didn't know how to respond to that, so she simply started walking toward the nearest hallway. Caldrin fell into step beside her with practiced ease. "Where's Serel?"
"Asleep in her quarters," Caldrin said. "She awoke shortly after your departure, wondering where you had gone. I told her you were on an outing and would return soon. She had a proper meal and, after some gentle encouragement, returned to bed before nightfall."
"Huh. Thanks."
It occurred to Vera that she hadn't thought about food since arriving. Not for herself, and not for Serel. Hunger hadn't even crossed her mind. She made a mental note to ask where Caldrin even got supplies from. Had whatever stores the estate had remained intact during her 'slumber'? Or did he get it from elsewhere?
Curious as she was, it could wait until morning. She'd eat something herself then as well. Right now, she wasn't in the mood.
"I'm heading in for the night," she said with a vague wave. "You can… I don't know. Go stand in a corner and power down, or whatever it is you do."
"A closet, actually. I find the darkness rather soothing."
Vera gave Caldrin a flat look.
"A joke, I assure you," he added.
"Sure," she said. "A joke."
He paused, watching her. A faint crease formed between his brows. "My lady, it truly was a—"
"It's fine," she cut him off. Stillwake shimmered back into her hand as she raised it. "You don't have to explain. You do you. Who am I to judge? Night."
Before he could reply, she activated Mark of Hollow Reach and stepped into the rift, letting the tear seal behind her.
She emerged in the Dreadwake Alcove, in her private quarters.
The halberd faded from her grip as she took in the space. The room was dim, bathed in flickering candlelight that danced across polished stone walls and heavy velvet drapes. Shadows pooled in the corners, but tall candelabras cast warm light across the centerpiece of the room.
The bed—massive, with black silk bedding, embroidered throw pillows, and a frankly absurd number of plushies.
…She had to make sure no one saw this place. Ever.
Sighing, Vera crossed to what passed for a wardrobe—more of a mini armory-meets-vanity shrine, if she were being honest—and opened its carved wooden doors. She wasn't particularly surprised to find it stuffed with a selection of sleepwear in every imaginable style, all tailored to her tastes. Some she didn't mind admitting to. Others… less so.
She was starting to see why Caldrin didn't think there was much difference between her and Veralyth.
After a few moments of deliberation, she settled on a simple slate-gray shift with minimal embellishment, then moved to a nearby dressing table and started the process of stripping out of the clothes she'd woken up in. In a move that she imagined would have made any quartermaster clutch their chest in horror, she tossed the invaluable gear over the back of a spindly chair before pulling on the sleepwear.
She considered taking a bath but ultimately decided against it. It could wait until tomorrow. Despite the day's events, she didn't feel particularly sweaty or grimy, and the thought of tracking Caldrin down again for directions to the bath annoyed her for some reason.
One night of mild post-fight stickiness wouldn't kill her.
Figuring out how to turn off the room's lighting proved less straightforward than expected. The candles didn't respond to being blown out. After a while, she found that a trace of Resonance to the wicks snuffed them with a gentle flicker. When the last light dimmed, only the moonlight through the tall arched window remained, painting silver streaks across the bed.
She shoved the plushies into a corner, crawled into the center of the bed, and pulled the silk sheets up to her chest.
Then she just… lay there, staring at the black canopy overhead.
Sleep, she realized, wasn't going to come easily.
Vera remained still, breathing softly, listening to the faint rustle of the wind outside. Her thoughts inevitably drifted back to her earlier mountaintop musings, even as she tried to quiet her mind and let go.
That was when she heard it—the soft pitter-patter of bare feet on stone. A near-inaudible creak of a door opening somewhere down the hall, followed by hesitant steps that paused outside her room.
Seconds passed.
Her bedroom door opened and shut again, so gingerly it barely clicked.
Small feet shuffled across the floor. There was a rustle at the edge of the bed, then the slight dip of weight as someone climbed up beside her, slipped under the covers, and went completely still.
"…Couldn't sleep?" Vera asked after a moment.
The figure flinched. Vera turned her head and saw a small tuft of silver hair peeking from beneath the sheets, along with a pair of wide, silver-crimson eyes blinking up at her.
Serel gave a small nod. "I'm not tired. I… wanted to see you."
Vera studied her, trying to parse the emotions rising in her chest at the sight of this child who was both hers… yet wasn't.
Slowly, she reached out—hesitating just a second—before resting her hand gently against the side of Serel's head, fingers threading softly through her hair.
"…Sorry," she said, voice low.
Serel tilted her head. "What are you sorry for, Mommy?"
"A lot of things," Vera murmured, watching those large, innocent eyes. "…Chief among them not knowing how to do right by you yet."
Serel didn't answer right away. Her expression didn't change. But then, without warning, she scooted closer and wrapped her arms around Vera, pressing her face into her chest.
Vera blinked, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. Her first instinct was to stay still. She wasn't used to this—didn't know what the appropriate reaction was. But she couldn't bring herself to pull away. Eventually, she simply let her hand settle fully on the girl's head, fingers continuing their slow, careful strokes.
"…Mommy, you're not leaving, are you?" came the muffled voice against her shirt.
Her hand froze mid-motion.
Vera glanced down. Serel wasn't looking up, just holding on tighter, as if her small arms alone could keep Vera from vanishing.
"…What makes you ask that?"
The girl only burrowed deeper into her. "I don't want you to go."
A quiet beat passed. Then another. Something pinched in Vera's chest—sharp and aching. More than the pressure of the child clinging to her.
A voice told her that this wasn't about the few hours she'd been gone tonight.
No. For some inexplicable reason, Serel was afraid Vera might leave her for good.
And Vera had no idea why.
Serel had been almost nothing but smiles and energy all day. Pure excitement and affection. There'd been no sign of this anxiety or deep-rooted fear, at least from what Vera had seen. And nothing in either Serel's or Caldrin's behavior suggested Vera's own actions had strayed far from how they expected Veralyth Mournvale to behave.
From what she could tell… Veralyth really was her. Or close enough.
So where had this come from?
Did Serel carry some buried memory of Veralyth leaving her? Of being abandoned? That didn't track with any of the lore or backstory Vera had written. Then was this about Elaria? About Serel fearing Vera would 'disappear' like her?
…Or was the girl just sharper than Vera had thought?
Maybe she'd picked up on the hesitations after all. The wary pauses in Vera's voice throughout the day. The flashes of uncertainty in her posture and eyes.
Her fear.
Vera felt something damp slowly spreading through her shirt—a small patch of warmth where Serel had buried her face. And just like that, all the spiraling questions dissolved.
She looked down at the little form wrapped around her, holding on like letting go might undo the world.
And in that moment, none of it mattered.
Her arms came around Serel fully, careful but firm, drawing the girl in until there was almost no space left between them. She could hear the faint, muffled whimpers—the kind a child didn't even realize she was making—and she hushed her quietly, tracing slow, steady circles along her back in a way she vaguely recalled her own mother doing once upon a time.
"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered. "Not without you, okay? Promise."
Serel didn't respond, simply nestling tighter into Vera's chest like she was trying to disappear inside it. Eventually, her breathing slowed, evening out into the rhythm of sleep.
That was when the panic set in.
Vera couldn't wake her—that much was obvious. But she also didn't want the girl sleeping here.
Could she carry Serel back to her own bed? Probably not without waking her.
Maybe she could slip out instead. Wait until the girl was in a deeper sleep, then get up and… she wasn't sure. Walk the halls. Explore the estate a bit. Skip sleeping altogether. It wouldn't be the first time, and in this current body, it should be fine.
But staying here—sharing a bed—was a bad idea. The last time she'd slept in the same room as anyone had been in a hospital bed, and that hadn't been a pleasant experience.
She shifted slightly, testing the idea, when Serel murmured something in her sleep and somehow curled in tighter. Vera froze.
Carefully, she adjusted the girl's weight and glanced down at her face—lashes resting against flushed cheeks, lips parted in the smallest breath.
…Leaving might not be an option. Not tonight. Not after the way Serel had clung to her. As worried as the girl had been, waking up alone might undo every reassurance Vera had just given.
She could make it through one night?
Surely.
With a quiet exhale, Vera settled in, tucking the sheets more securely around the girl and letting her hand rest at her back. She brushed a stray lock of silver from Serel's forehead.
This really wasn't going to be easy.