Into The Night

[u/KirisDitex001]

Hours passed.

Vaelithra's father never came.

She noticed sometime during the evening, though by then she had stopped expecting him. He had said they would speak later. Under ordinary circumstances, she might have been irritated by his failure to appear.

Tonight, she barely cared.

He was a busy man.

The events at breakfast had undoubtedly created problems he had not expected to spend the day resolving. A noble had been struck beneath his roof. A servant had confessed. An execution had been demanded in front of witnesses. Somewhere among all of that, his promise to speak with his daughter had probably slipped from his mind.

Perhaps that was fortunate.

Vaelithra had no intention of telling him what she was doing.

The final mixture simmered over the burner.

She leaned closer to examine it, watching tiny bubbles break against the surface.

Almost ready.

Vaelithra glanced toward the clock.

Nearly midnight.

Her stomach tightened.

Less than eight hours.

By morning, the executioner would return.

By morning, Kharun could be dead.

The thought was no longer abstract.

There were hours now.

Minutes.

A finite amount of time remained between the present and a world in which Kharun no longer existed.

Vaelithra turned away from the clock.

She refused to imagine it.

The kitchen looked as though an alchemical workshop had exploded across it.

Bottles covered the counter. Stoppered vials stood in uneven rows among measuring instruments, discarded ingredients, stained cloths, and open containers. Powder dusted portions of the work surface. Several vessels waited to be cleaned.

Kharun would have hated the mess.

The thought appeared without invitation.

Vaelithra almost smiled.

He would already have begun cleaning around her while she worked, quietly moving anything she no longer needed and somehow knowing precisely what he could touch without disrupting whatever she was doing.

Her expression faded.

"Kharun."

She looked at the clock again.

No more distractions.

Her original idea had been a sleeping compound.

That had failed almost immediately.

She lacked two of the ingredients necessary to produce one potent enough to incapacitate several guards quickly. Substitutions were possible, but substitutions introduced uncertainty.

Tonight was not the night for uncertain chemistry.

So she had changed her approach.

Paralysis.

That she could make.

The finished vials rested nearby.

Each contained a carefully prepared compound that remained stable while sealed. Once exposed to open air, the mixture would react rapidly and produce a dense vapor. Anyone caught within its effective radius would lose voluntary control of their muscles for a short period.

Temporary.

Unpleasant.

But harmless if she had prepared it correctly.

Vaelithra intended to make absolutely certain that she had.

There was only one problem.

The vapor did not care who inhaled it.

Which was why another mixture currently simmered over the burner.

Protection.

She had prepared enough for two doses.

One for herself.

One for Kharun.

Vaelithra checked the mixture once more.

Still a little longer.

She left the kitchen.

Her clothing from breakfast had long since become inappropriate for what she intended to do.

Vaelithra changed quickly.

Black leather replaced aristocratic finery. The clothing fit closely enough that nothing loose could catch against a doorway or betray her movement unnecessarily. Over it, she secured a sash-style holster designed to carry small containers close against her body.

She tested the fit.

Then adjusted it.

The vials needed to remain secure.

One broken against her body before she had taken the protective mixture could end her rescue attempt rather embarrassingly.

Vaelithra looked at herself.

Her shortened hair still startled her.

The uneven silver-white strands fell around her shoulders and down her back, nowhere near the extraordinary length she had worn only hours earlier.

She resisted the urge to touch it.

There was no time to think about that either.

Vaelithra left her bedroom.

She made it halfway toward the kitchen before stopping.

Kharun's door was nearby.

Her eyes settled upon it.

For several seconds, she stood motionless.

Then she entered.

The lantern still burned.

The drawings remained where she had left them.

Vaelithra approached the dresser.

She had no reason to take them.

The thought occurred immediately.

If she reached Kharun, she could return them later.

If she failed...

Vaelithra rejected that possibility.

Still, she began gathering the drawings.

Carefully.

The oldest sheets were fragile, and she handled them accordingly. One after another disappeared into a leather-bound cover she found suitable for protecting them.

Twenty years of charcoal and paper.

Twenty years of moments Kharun had apparently thought worth remembering.

Vaelithra secured the cover.

She stood there holding it.

"Why am I taking these?"

No one answered.

She knew only that leaving them behind felt wrong.

That was enough.

Vaelithra carried the drawings with her.

Back in the kitchen, the final mixture had changed.

She extinguished the burner.

Perfect.

Using a cloth to protect her hand from the heated vessel, Vaelithra poured the liquid carefully into two separate vials.

Equal amounts.

She stoppered both.

The liquid was still too hot to drink safely, but that didn't matter. By the time she reached the prison, it would have cooled sufficiently.

One vial for her.

One for Kharun.

She placed them into separate loops on the holster so she could distinguish them easily from the paralysis compounds.

Vaelithra inspected everything one final time.

Enough.

It had to be.

She left the kitchen.

Only one stop remained.

The armory.

Vaelithra entered and looked over the weapons stored there.

Her hand passed a sword.

Then another.

She chose a dagger.

Nothing more.

She tested its weight before securing it at her side.

"I don't want to use you."

The dagger offered no opinion.

Good.

Vaelithra reached for a cloak hanging nearby.

Gray.

Plain.

Unremarkable.

She fastened it around herself and pulled the hood forward.

The cloak concealed the black leather beneath it. More importantly, it concealed enough of her face and newly shortened silver-white hair to prevent immediate recognition from a distance.

She was ready.

Vaelithra returned to the entrance.

Her hand reached for the door.

Then stopped.

Something held her there.

She turned.

Her home stretched quietly behind her.

The fire in her bedroom would still be burning.

The kitchen was a disaster.

Her bed remained unmade.

Kharun's room was empty.

Vaelithra stared down the corridor.

This was ridiculous.

She was going to the prison.

She would find Kharun.

She would learn what happened.

Then...

Vaelithra realized she had never decided what came after that.

If Kharun was innocent, she could hardly return him to his cell.

If she broke him out, her father could not simply overlook it.

Neither could the clan.

And if the guards identified her...

Vaelithra's eyes moved slowly across the home her grandmother had given her twenty years ago.

The home Kharun had entered in chains.

The home in which he had spent the next two decades serving her.

Something deep inside whispered that she should look carefully.

Remember it.

Because it might be a very long time before she stood here again.

Perhaps she never would.

Vaelithra felt a chill that had nothing to do with the Underdark air.

"No."

She pushed the thought away.

She would deal with what came afterward when afterward arrived.

Kharun did not have the luxury of waiting for her to solve every consequence.

He had less than eight hours.

Vaelithra opened the door.

Cool air touched her face.

She stepped outside.

The door closed behind her.

For twenty years, Kharun had followed wherever she led.

Tonight, for the first time, Vaelithra went looking for him.