Bright Flame, Deep Shadow (lesbian story)

Ardyan

He waits on the rock by the creek, where he first showed me his metal hands.

I hang back in the trees for a moment, but Davorin doesn't seem to realise I'm there. He has his lamp again, and the light glimmers on his hands as he methodically picks a leaf apart, the bits floating away in the wind.

I've been going to him every night to bring him scraps from dinner, but it's only tonight that I see how wild he truly is. His straw-yellow hair is straggly and brushes his thin shoulders, and his clothes are completely ragged. Not for the first time, I wonder if anyone will notice if a few things go missing from the laundry room.

I shift my weight and a twig snaps under my foot. Davorin starts, and his hand flies to the stolen meat cleaver lying on the rock next to him.

"Ardyan?" he hisses, his voice barely above a whisper, as he pivots around, eyes scanning the dark forest.

"Here," I reply, stepping from behind the trees and into his sight. His face cracks into a grin.

"Finally! You took your time tonight." He leaps up and bounds towards me like a shaggy, overjoyed dog. I hold out the slice of bread and the leg of chicken I'd saved, and he snatches them up before I have a chance to say anything.

"How's progress?" Davorin says as he hops back onto his rock, tearing into the chicken ravenously. He stretches his long legs out in front of him, his filthy, bare feet dangling in the water. I haven't seen him wearing his boots for the last few days, and I wonder if they are too damaged to wear. I should find him some. The snows will come soon, and he'll get frostbite without any shoes.

I swallow and sit down on the other end of the stone. "Progress is fine." My throat is tight, and I have to force the words out. I haven't found this bloody document yet, even though I go down there every night I can to look, but neither of us ever expected me to get this done quickly. The more time I spend in that archive, the more passageways full of shelves I find. The place is massive.

Davorin stops eating and wipes some chicken juice from his beard with the back of his hand. "I feel like there should be a 'but' there," he says, tossing the bone into the forest and making a start on the bread.

I clench my fists in my lap. "Someone...someone got banished this morning," I sigh. I glance at Davorin. He's stopped attacking the bread and his face is strangely calm. I had expected him to start raging about the corruption of the system or something.

"A friend?" is all he says, though.

"Sort of," I reply. "I knew her."

"What'd she do?"

"She..." I sigh through my teeth. "A while ago, someone found her diary and showed Tanvik. She'd written about how much she fancied some older girl, and Tanvik shaved her head for it."

Davorin nods. "He always was pretty determined to breed more Shadow Sorcerers. Pervert. Is that why she got banished?"

"No." I take a deep breath. I don't want to voice the truth—it will just make it more inescapable. That is probably why I do it. "My girlfriend reported Arabella. The other day, I almost got caught. I told Hestia what I'm doing, and—and she told Tanvik that Arabella was planning to desert or something to distract everyone's attention away from me. I don't even know that it worked. I checked the archive earlier though, and it was exactly how I left it, so Tanvik can't know that I've been going down there." I let my words hang in the air between us. I don't know if Davorin will laugh, or strangle me for telling someone, but I don't even care. The words are out of me, and that's enough.

He is silent for a moment. He doesn't look angry, which is an immense relief. Instead, his brow is creased in thought, and that is not so reassuring. After a moment his eyes light up, and that is definitely worrying. "This Arabella. Does she have anything at all to do with the one who graduated this morning?"

"Uh, yes. They were really close friends." In fact, I have suspicions that they might have been more than just friends, but I never said anything. "Wait, how do you know about Flick?"

"Yes, that was her name," he mutters to himself. "People have been talking about it today. Sound carries."

Davorin stands up, brushing the crumbs from his tunic. "Thanks for the food, Ardyan. Keep looking for the book. And if I'm not here tomorrow, don't panic because I probably will not be dead."

"What are you doing?" I demand, suddenly panicked. Surely he's not going to fly back to Astia on that dragon that I'm still not sure is real and leave me to do this on my own?

He picks up the lamp and says nothing, only winking at me, before slipping away through the trees and leaving me in the dark.