The touch felt so real, as if it were the purest reality. Their lips met with passion, craving more of each other's touch. Fingers tangled in the long, white hair of the other, pulling her closer. Kisses trailed down the nearly flawless neck of a priestess. A low moan, like a siren's song, escaped to the heroine.
Like flames, their love seemed to burn with fervor.
However, flames arose in a strange way, burning someone's body like a bonfire in a public square. The agonizing screams were loud, as if begging for help, but a voice said:
"Desire for something leads humans to ruin," the voice laughed with disdain.
Hiraeth awoke from that sleep in her cabin, sweating cold despite the hot day. Her pupils were dilated, and she ran her hands through her hair, holding back tears once again as she whispered:
"That dream again."
Sasha didn't quite understand what had been happening with Hiraeth in recent days; it was as if she feared something, as if she was afraid of something.
That day, the entire procession of soldiers had stayed in a city to rest. General Ghilher had allowed everyone to roam the city, and most went to a certain place well-known among the soldiers. Hiraeth ended up being pulled into the commotion somehow.
The other members of the procession, mostly old priests and a few women, stayed at the inn.
The women gathered in one of the rooms to chat that evening, while most of the men had gone to the red-light district. Most of them were young women without families, seeking a future. Some had joined the campaign later, while others had been there since the beginning of the grand procession—many orphans or from fallen noble families, but now they were all together.
Laughter echoed in that room as some of them worked on embroideries to give to certain soldiers they hoped to invite to the Sarha ball, or as a token of survival.
"This embroidery is beautiful, Sister Sasha, how do you have such talented hands!" exclaimed one of the women.
Since her first campaign, Sasha had been creating, not exactly an embroidery, but a large drawing with threads, telling a long story on the fabric.
Many of the young women were curious about it, as they passed their hands over the piece. Others, who were Sasha's age or older, were also curious, but it wasn't something that concerned them now. The societal pressures of Enya were far more significant.
"Yes, but this couldn't be added to a marriage dowry," said the brunette.
"Darcelle…" Sasha called softly, placing the embroidery on her lap.
"Sasha, you've been lucky in some things, but you know you can't avoid it for much longer," Darcelle warned again.
That made Sasha uncomfortable. How long could she hold the title of Hero? That depended heavily on the church or on how long her youth would last.
It was the harsh reality Darcelle reminded her of.
"But Sister Sasha has many suitors, right? Many want to ask for her hand," said one of the dreamy young women.
"Sister Sasha must have a line of men who want her. I remember well that before the campaign, one of the dukes wanted to make her his wife," recalled another.
Sasha just laughed, embarrassed. "The church wouldn't allow it. I was only thirteen at the time."
"Marriages among the commoners happen around that age, Sister Sasha," Heloise responded. "Didn't you know that?"
"Oh..."
Sasha had been taken into the church's gates very early. The words spoken by Heloise and the others from within the plebeian society made her realize the vast differences between the two worlds.
"But tell us, sister, which one did you choose?" Liane questioned, looking at Sasha.
"Choose?" Sasha thought. She could answer "none," but the curious young eyes left her surprised. "Who do you think?" she asked, playing along.
The younger group began making various guesses, while Sasha just continued with her embroidery.
"Why did you let them argue about it when you already know the obvious answer?" Darcelle sat beside her and asked.
Sasha gave a mischievous smile and said, "They need a little fun after everything they've been through," as she returned to her stitching.
Darcelle sighed and didn't argue, knowing that most of them were just children sent to the frontlines with a high chance of dying. But they survived, and here they were.
It didn't take long for Sasha to leave the room where she had been with everyone else. She wanted to return to her own room and rest for the remainder of the night.
As she walked toward her room, Sasha noticed Hiraeth standing in front of her door, about to knock but hesitating.
"Hira, are you okay?" Sasha asked as she approached.
Hiraeth seemed a bit sluggish. Sasha soon realized that she was slightly drunk, usually becoming quieter and more emotional than usual. Hiraeth approached Sasha and rested her face on Sasha's shoulder without saying a word, and Sasha just hugged her.
Sasha knew that Hiraeth wouldn't stay in her own room, as she always had strange nightmares when she drank. So, she opened the door to her room and entered, holding Hiraeth's hand.
She sat Hiraeth on the bed, but strangely, as in previous days, Hiraeth couldn't take her eyes off Sasha.
When Sasha tried to step away, Hiraeth grabbed the hem of her sleeve, which Sasha found odd, though it was a common habit of drunk Hiraeth.
"I'm just going to get you some water, Hira, I won't take long," Sasha assured, but Hiraeth didn't respond.
Sasha tried to pull her hand away, but the heroine grabbed her wrist and unexpectedly pulled her closer.
"Hey, what are you…"
"Don't go," Hiraeth whispered.
Hiraeth hugged Sasha's waist tightly, trembling as if afraid she might leave, though Sasha didn't understand why.
Sasha felt a tickling sensation from Hiraeth's soft touch on her waist and a warmth rising in her stomach as Hiraeth touched her.
"Hira, what are you…" she called softly.
Hiraeth still didn't respond directly, but she pulled Sasha closer, practically making the albino sit on her lap.
Sasha blushed, unsure of how to react to the situation, especially with that strange feeling coursing through her body like an energy.
Hiraeth's hands moved up Sasha's body towards her face, and without a word or permission, she kissed the albino, who hesitated at first but soon let herself be carried away by the brunette's kiss. Hiraeth's hands slid down Sasha's body as if wanting to touch more deeply than just over her clothes.
However, that voice returned, like a mysterious disturbance. No matter how much she desired it, the voice came back and tormented her.
Sasha noticed that Hiraeth had become strange and held her face, wiping away the strange tears that fell. She smiled.
"Let's sleep. I don't feel well," Hiraeth said, trying to hide her tearful face.
Sasha was a bit disappointed but simply agreed.
The next day, the two seemed very close. Sonnata, who wasn't far away, observed them, especially Hiraeth's hand on Sasha's waist.
"Do you think something happened?" Jonathan wondered.
Sonnata raised an eyebrow. Wasn't it obvious?
"Well, maybe," Sonnata replied.
They were now at the last Gift, and in just a few days, they could finally return to the capital of the Empire, Kyrios.
They would be received with celebrations, but how long could happiness last?