under a veil of hanging clouds

vesper

The Greatwood breathes in the quiet of twilight, a hush draped over the ancient boughs as dusk bleeds slowly into night. High above the Sidhe Village, where the world narrows into vertigo and stars gather like gossip in the sky, a silver shape winds through the branches.

Vesper moves with care and familiarity, his boots silent on the bark, his pale hair catching hints of starlight as he ascends the spiralling pathways and ladders that web the Observatory. He doesn’t fly. Doesn’t misty-step. There’s something about the climb that feels right. Earned. Ritualistic.

At the top, the world opens into sky.

The Observatory is quiet tonight—no stargazers, no watchers. Just candles guttering gently in their lanterns, suspended by threads of spider silk or nestled in clusters along the edge of the platform. The shrine is woven into the tree itself, carved and curved to fit the hollow of the trunk’s crown. There’s no dome, no roof—only stars, and the sense that if you stretched far enough, you could touch one.

Vesper kneels without drama. He doesn’t bow—he never has—but there’s reverence in the way he brushes away the dried leaves scattered at the base of the shrine. His shadows flit ahead of him, clearing the last debris, curling protectively around the small offering he sets down. It’s a shard of midnight glass from Stormbreak, etched faintly with a constellation that doesn’t belong to any of Caido’s charts. No mortal eyes have seen what his have, given where he grew up.

Fingers still against the wood, he finally speaks, his voice low and unhurried. "Ma. You got a minute?"

Tell the preacher not to pray, there's no angels where I'll go
Only pieces that are broken scattered dreams across the floor

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Safrin

The stars don’t twinkle so much as hold their breath. Above the Observatory, constellations tremble into alignment—not visibly, not for anyone else, but enough for the air to thicken with potential. A hush spreads like velvet over the leaves, and then the starlight folds. She doesn’t descend. She arrives—impossibly close and suddenly present, as if she’d been there the whole time, just waiting for him to look up.

"My darling," Safrin breathes, and there's a smile in her voice before it ever reaches her face. She steps barefoot onto the ancient wood of the platform, her gown trailing comets and haloed in the glow of familiar love. "You know I always have time for you."

There’s no ceremony in the way she moves to him, only ease. She doesn’t hover above or demand reverence—she just settles beside him, tucking herself down with a rustle of starlight as if she’s done this a thousand times. Reaching out, she brushes his hair back from his temple, fingertips trailing the edge of the star-shaped mark she gave him at birth. "You’ve been quiet," she murmurs, eyes soft and knowing. "That usually means something dangerous or something clever. Or both."

Only then does she glance toward the shard, plucking it delicately between two fingers. "Mm. I remember this sky," she says, almost absently. "You always did like the ones no one else could see."

Her gaze returns to him, bright and unwavering. "What is it you need, darling?"

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

vesper

For a moment, Vesper doesn’t speak. His gaze lingers on the glass in her hands, his breath quiet and even despite the thunder beneath his ribs. It’s always like this with her—too easy to fall into honesty, too hard to pretend he’s as untouchable as he normally acts like he is. "I’m worried about Nova," he murmurs, voice almost inaudible at first. "She’s...bright. Loud. Glorious. Like someone took a sunbeam and dared it to become a person." He huffs, the breath too soft to be a laugh, too fond to be anything else. "But she’s soft, too. She trusts. She sees the best in people. And that makes her beautiful—but it makes her a target."

His fingers flex against the bark, shadows rising and falling with the rhythm of his thoughts.

"I don’t want her to break."

Sliding one hand into his coat, he draws out a carefully folded length of iridescent hide—the rainbow-scaled skin of the Vernal Viper. It gleams faintly in the candlelight, catching colours that don’t belong in the trees or the stars. He lays it out on the wood between them with reverence, the way a knight might offer up a weapon to be blessed. "Got this in Hak Etme," he says. "It’s strong. Light. Dangerous as sin. Thought maybe it could become somethin’ for her. Armour, maybe. Somethin’ that won’t slow her down but’ll stop the worst of the world."

His voice drops, more shadow than sound. "Somethin’ that'll let her keep bein’ soft, without gettin’ carved up for it." Then, quieter still, his eyes flick toward Safrin's. "Think you can help me make that?"

---

Vesp wants to make armour for Nova using: 

Vernal Viper Snake Skin | Lightweight opalescent snake skin that can be crafted into armour by a god. When struck at close range (melee), releases hallucinogenic pollen that causes the attacker to roll with disadvantage on their next turn.

Tell the preacher not to pray, there's no angels where I'll go
Only pieces that are broken scattered dreams across the floor

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Safrin

Safrin watches him with eyes like the far side of the moon—radiant and distant, but soft enough now to belong to a mother rather than a goddess. As Vesper lays out the iridescent hide, her gaze flicks over it with the kind of appreciation only she can offer: not just for its rare beauty, but for what it means. For the intention behind it.

Her fingers brush the edges of the Vernal Viper’s skin, the colours dancing across her knuckles like starlight refracted through oil. Then she looks up at him, something quiet and fierce in the curve of her smile. "Of course I can, my love," she says, voice a silken murmur that wraps around him like a cloak. "You bring me something dangerous. Something beautiful. Something meant to protect your sister’s softness." Her eyes glow as they meet his. That is exactly the kind of thing I answer to."

Bending to his ear, her lips barely brushing the skin, she whispers what he needs to complete the task. Then she draws back, brushing her hand through his hair before pressing a kiss—gentle, grounding—to his brow. It glows for a heartbeat with pale, celestial warmth. "I’ll be watching over you," she promises, her voice now half-wind, half-prayer. "Over all of you."

And then—she’s gone. The air exhales, soft and cool again. The scent of lilies lingers. The stars resume their slow dance overhead. And Vesper is alone, with the weight of his promise and the task laid before him—bathed not in shadow, but starlight.

---

Vesper has been given a quest! He must

1. Leave the Viper skin out all night beneath the moon
2. Complete a training thread focusing on something not being what it seems
3. Complete a thread encountering some sort of illusion
4. Complete a thread getting Nova's measurements for the armour.

~FIN

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!