After eating a quick breakfast, the next morning and packing up the camp Nocturna begins her walk towards the city. The first few hours are peaceful as the leaves blow past with the mental breeze the snow had melted all the snow before she had woken. Nocturna couldn't have been anymore great full by lunch break. Her shoulder was stiff from the crash yesterday though the strain this much walking put on her belly is what worried her the most. By the time she ate some dried meat and vegetables she felt a bit better. Though didn't get back to walking right away.
Spektor hooks her bag with is horn so she couldn't carry it. His chest rumbling with displeasure at the strain she was needlessly putting on herself. He decided then he would not let her walk any more, not even if he had to walk into towns with her. "Thanks for the help," Nocturna tells the dragon as she gets back onto her feet and starts walking again. She looks to her left arm that no longer holds the golden band. It felt strange to no longer have it on; she'd been wearing for most of her life now. The power she had used on the hound last night is called starlight it's come to her after as most knowledge from the Stellian is passed down slowly with age through their magic.
Spektor let's a low rumble out as he steps infront of Nuri snapping his teeth once at her feet on the rode. He then takes a talon pointing to her then to his back.
He then points to the trail and her mimicking walking by shifting his front legs and wiggling a talon no in her face. Trying to be as clear as he could be, she was to no longer walk.
She blinks and stares at him for a moment before laughing, Nocturna covers her mouth as she tries to compose herself. "I'm sorry." Moments later she stops her laughter and takes a breath. "I didn't mean to laugh at you I just never imagined seeing anything like that from a dragon."
Spektor rolls his eyes at her mimicking her by moving his lips. Huffing he again points to her then his back. He didn't care about his image, he could eat anyone who dared mock him but he liked her laugh so if doing silly things helped her he'd act like a hatchling. "Alright, I'll ride on you back again." She says then climbs up shaking her head with a small smile still on her face.
He looks back at her twisting his neck to fully face her, using his tail he points to four spikes infront of her. Every dragon had them for if the chose a rider to communicate even if their mind links were blocked.
Pointing to the top on he taps it and he takes a step forward, the right one he steps right, the one closest to her he backs up, the left he steps left.
Looking in her eyes he taps her shoulder gently with the tail tip to do what he had. If she felt threatened somewhere it'd look like she was just shifting. "I understand," Nocturna tells him coping what he'd showed her.
He motions to it all with his tail, the holds a talon to his lips and winks. Before turning around and beginning to walk again.
The city gates of Celvestra rose like towering blades of polished steel, gleaming beneath the twin moons. Nocturna tugged her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she stepped past the checkpoint, eyes flicking to the guard post where sleek devices scanned the wrists of citizens as they passed through. A mechanical voice chirped: "ID verified. Welcome, citizen." She kept her hood low and moved with purpose, slipping in behind a group of traders hauling crates of shimmering minerals. Once inside the gates, her breath caught. Celvestra shimmered. Towering structures stretched like crystal fingers into the sky, threaded with glowing crystals of blue and violet energy. High above, perched on the arching sky-rails, were the Vierls—massive, brightly colored birdlike creatures with long feathers and intelligent eyes, some lazily watching the crowd, others gliding down to allow passengers to hop on their saddle-carriages.
She blinked, momentarily overwhelmed. It smelled like ozone and incense, and everywhere she looked were things she didn't understand—machines that spoke, signs that flickered with moving text, elves with silver masks and glowing gauntlets directing traffic, towering automaton statues that moved their heads every few minutes. Her heart raced. She'd been to cities before—grimy merchant towns clinging to the borders of forests or far-off mountains—but nothing like this. Celvestra was alive in a different way. Like it breathed magic and metal in equal parts.
"Tavren's Salvage," she murmured, scanning the signs. Just ahead, a polished metal kiosk with a smiling face screen lit up as she passed. It chimed in a smooth, cheerful voice:
"Need a lift? Nothing gets you there faster than a Vierl! Just walk up to one of their perches and they'll take you anywhere in the city you desire!"
Nocturna paused beneath a rising column where one of the vibrant birds rested. This one had feathers like iridescent fire, its long tail curling like ribbon, eyes glowing with soft intelligence. With a flutter, it leaned down slightly as if expecting her. Tentative, she stepped forward. But as she reached for the saddle brace, the Vierl suddenly jerked back and let out a sharp clicking noise. A soft red light flashed beneath its perch, and a cold mechanical voice echoed:
"No ID detected. Access denied."
A nearby citizen—a young elf with mirrored goggles and an armful of glowing packages—snorted. "You won't get far without a city ID, love. The Vierls know who belongs and who doesn't. You want a ride, you gotta register." Nocturna clenched her jaw, backing away as the Vierl turned its head and lifted off, wings kicking up a gust of wind. Pushing through the swirl of travelers and flashing lights, she began scanning the signs, heart racing. Most were in a dialect she barely read, but she caught the word Salvage on a glowing panel beside a crooked alleyway lit with hanging lanterns and steam vents.
She followed it.
Down past a noodle stall operated by a levitating drone. Past a group of musicians whose instruments played themselves. Past a group of elves in gray uniforms shouting and flapping their arms at a massive pink and teal Vierl that squawked, refused to budge, then stole a loaf of bread from a vendor and took. Nocturna smiled faintly. That one reminded her of herself. Finally, she stopped in front of a squat, half-sunken building wedged between a neon herbarium and what looked like an automated tailoring shop. The sign above the rusted door read:
"TAVREN'S SALVAGE — WE FIX WHAT THE CITY FORGETS."
Tavren's Salvage is a cluttered, back-alley junk shop tucked between two tall towers. It's easy to miss-covered in rusted metal plates, flickering neon signage and half-broken parts hanging from the awning. To anyone else, it looks like a graveyard for outdated tech. Nocturna remembers his words. "If you ever need me—really need me—go to that place," he whispered. "Don't call. Don't message. Just walk in and tell the shopkeeper, 'I need light for the shadows.' That's all you say. They'll do the rest." Inside, behind the front counter and stacks of broken tech, is a hidden comms node—a secure, shadow-routed beacon that bypasses city surveillance and reaches only one recipient. The shopkeeper, an old elf with soot-stained hands and cybernetic eyes, doesn't ask questions. Once she gives the phrase, he silently activates the relay and gives her a place to wait in the back room—small, dim, and always warm.
The back room felt like a bubble outside of time. The city's endless noise was dulled here, barely more than a thrum beneath the creaked tiles. When the door eased open again, Nocturna straightened. Rhanor Luminous stepped inside, a shadow wrapped in soft light. His sliver hair shimmered under the flickering strip along the ceiling, and those pale blue eyes locked onto her instantly, scanning her quickly. Not frantically but with the precision of someone trained to notice every detail. "You're not bleeding," he murmured, almost to himself. "No limping. Eyes steady. Still-" He glanced at her belly. Nocturna resisted the urge to place her hand there. "I was in a small accident a few days ago. Not serious but... I want to make sure the baby's okay while I'm here to resupply." His eyes flickered with sudden emotion-worry, sharp and bright but he swallowed it. Pulling one of the metal chairs from the corner and sitting in it backwards, forearms resting across the back. Rhanor wears a fitted black tailcoat richly embroidered with silver details along the shoulders and chest. A high-collared black shirt underneath with a ruby pendent brooch at the throat the swirls with life. With black slacks and boots.
"Alright," he says nodding once. "Give me a day. Come back tomorrow. Same time. I'll have something figured out by then." He didn't ask what happened since she fled. The concern was there in the tightness of his jaw and the gentleness in his voice. "Stay unseen and I'll do the rest." He stands then, Nocturna doing the same. "I should get going, take this," Rhanor places a small pouch onto the small table next to her. The contents clank together slightly. "It's not much but better than nothing. Stay safe." With that Rhanor exits the room leaving as quickly as he came.
***
The last time Nocturna saw Rhanor before her escape, the dungeon had felt unusually still, like it knew something was coming. She remembered how he paced the length of her small windowless room, silver hair catching in the flickering candlelight. For once he hadn't brought anything. No books, no new sweet treat, no carved trinket for the younger children. Just silence, and the weight of too many thoughts. "You're certain?" he asked, voice tight as he turned sharply. She nodded, sitting on the edge of her thin cot. "I feel it," Nocturna said softly. The seed has taken root this time. A life force has begun to grow." He stopped mid-step, hand lifting to his chin as he stared at the polished white stone beneath their feet. The lines in his brow deepened, but he said nothing. "After they test me tomorrow," she continued, "they'll know. A few days at most."
Still, he was quiet. She couldn't tell if he understood the danger, the urgency. "Did you confirm it?" Nocturna asks watching him carefully. "What Lady Gemma said-was it true?" Rhanors eyes meet hers then, calm distant. Haunted. "It's true." The breath left her lungs. Her fingers gripping the edge of the cot as fear coiled tight in her chest. She shook her head, unable to stop the tremble that overtook her. Her knees gave slightly, and she sat back fully. Rhanor moved toward her quickly, crouching beside the bed. He reaches for her hand but stopped short, fingers hovering above hers. "It's going to be okay." He said, voice low. "I won't let it happen."
Her eyes narrow. "And how exactly does the third son of the Voidwalker King stop him from stealing my child?" Nocturnas voice cracked. "From giving them to that star-blight and his perfectly sculpted lie of a to be queen?" Rhanor didn't flinch. Instead, he held her gaze, steady and full of something fierce. "By getting you out of here," he replied. "Before they ever get the chance."