Ex-Commodore Highwind had ordered her crew to dock the airship as close to the Rock of Ravatogh as they possibly could. It had been tough to spot the nearest haven in the red sunlight. The earth below had looked so barren and auburn. But they did find it. Except that her men then had to argue over whether light still bled through its stones. The small plateau was etiolated in the sunset's harsh glow.

To their luck, the haven is still lit. Only its light is feeble. Aranea discovers that it does not reach the roof of the airship.

Not that it matters. Lunafreya has brought a small lamp up here with her anyways.

Every single time that they have made land, Lunafreya has slipped away to the rooftop. For about an hour or so, Lunafreya would sit with her legs dangling over the side of the airship. Aranea thinks that she goes to watch the sunlight fade. Or to survey the landscape.

Every time that they have made land, Aranea has gone to the rooftop too. Sometimes she would just pop her head up through the hatch to make sure that Lunafreya was still there. Other times, she has swung her own legs over the side of the ship and watched the night conquer the sky.

This is one of those other times. She peers at Lunafreya over the edge of the hatch. The Rock of Ravatogh is such a dark and distinctive shape against the sunset. But in just a few minutes, there will not be any light to see by. Its form will meld with the night.

Lunafreya is the complete opposite of the Rock of Ravatogh. The woman is a slight shape in this light. It is almost like the sunlight passes right through her skin. This light makes the shadows in the nooks of her face and joints look more solid than she is.

But at night, Lunafreya has always looked more real than the airship itself.

Aranea cannot put her finger on why she thinks that. Maybe it has something to do with Lunafreya's perfect posture beneath the night sky. No matter how heavy the starless sky has looked, Lunafreya has never slouched beneath it. Or it could be how the small lamp would cast its blueish light on her closest arm. Her skin was just so stark in all that darkness.

Stupid. Aranea hates that she cannot figure it out. It is enough to make her clench her teeth together. Enough to make her fingers tighten on the ladder rungs. Just for a moment.

Lunafreya is something else. Aranea cannot tell what she is. Only that Lunafreya is something not alike. She might eat. Might sleep and drink. Lunafreya might shit and shed dead skin cells. But there is something about her that does not seem human.

Or maybe Aranea just wants to think that.

Over half a year ago now, they had docked themselves in southwestern Leide. Aranea remembers how what was left of Insomnia had shimmered in the distance. As the sun had set, Lunafreya had gone up to the rooftop. She sat then as she does now: legs over the side. A hand in her lap. Except that hand had almost been a fist. She had said something then. Aranea thinks it might have been about collecting canned goods.

Lunafreya had only told her four months ago that there would be days without sunlight ahead. She had not been kidding. For the last two months, there have been no more sunrises. And now their day had begun with a sunset.

Whatever Lunafreya is, it is something that knew that daylight was finite. Aranea cannot help but wonder how she knew this. And for how long. She might have known since she was a child. Or even before that. It could have been since she was little more than a shrieking lump of an infant. Either way, Lunafreya had known that sunlit hours would turn into sunlit minutes. And those minutes into nothing.

This is really stupid. Setting her hands on the surface of the roof, Aranea pushes herself up and onto it. Her weight makes the metal ring. Lunafreya spins her head to glance at her. Then she quickly turns away.

She is crying.

At least, Aranea thinks she saw a tear trail on her face. It is hard to say. The light is very thin now. Her windpipe closes for a moment.

Ducking her head, Lunafreya raises her hand from her lap to her face. Probably to wipe away her tears. Aranea swallows drily.

"Hey," she says. Lunafreya twists her torso to face her.

"Hello." She must have been crying. Aranea does not believe in doubting her own instincts. She trusts them over her eyes. But if Lunafreya has been crying, Aranea does not know what to do about that.

"Where are we going?" Aranea asks. She sits down about a foot away from Lunafreya. Swings her legs out over the side of the ship. She should probably ask what is wrong. Except that it sounds like such a stupid thing to say. There is a lot wrong nowadays.

Folding her hands together, Lunafreya sets them on her lap. She stares out at the diffusing shape of the mountain.

"There."

"Huh." Aranea should ask if her crying has something to do with that. Maybe the idea of whatever Lunafreya has to do there scares her. But all she says is, "I always wanted to see it myself. The lava."

Lunafreya does not answer. When Aranea glances at her, she can see a bit of a smile on her lips. It is not a good smile though. Her eyebrows are too low and close together for that.

So something about the Rock of Ravatogh is upsetting her.

No more bullshit. She should just ask. Aranea opens her mouth. But she cannot find any words to speak. A second later, Lunafreya glances at her.

"That place... it is special to the Infernian," she says carefully.

Oh. Right.

"Didn't Ifrit die there or something?"

Lunafreya's eyebrows raise.

"You have read the Cosmogony?" she says.

"That surprise you?" Aranea can feel herself smirk. She likes the colour of Lunafreya's face right now. It looks like she might actually have some blood inside that pallid body.

"I did not mean to—"

"Hey, hey, I'm just teasing you, Princess." Aranea laughs a little. Then stops.

That word slips out sometimes. Aranea had used it a lot in their first month of traveling together. She thought it was funny to say that she had fished a princess out of the Altissian sea. But now that nickname tends to make Lunafreya clench her own jaw. Or make her widen her eyes just a bit too much; just enough for Aranea to recognize that she has brought up a sore point.

This time, Lunafreya lets out a breathy laugh.

"I am still unused to that."

"That just means you need to be teased more often," she says quickly. If Lunafreya wants to pretend that she did not say that word, then she will play along. Leaning closer to Lunafreya, she grins.

"Are you saying that you do not tease me enough?" Lunafreya smiles a little more. Her heart skips a beat. It is tempting to lift her hand. To press her thumb against Lunafreya's chin. Curl her pointer finger under her jaw.

It is really tempting to kiss her right now.

Aranea does not lift her hand.

Instead, she raises her eyes. Lunafreya's eyes meet her own. For a moment, her heart stalls. Lunafreya saw. She must have. Even though all the sunlight is now gone, there is no way that she did not see how Aranea's eyes had lingered on her lips.

Now Aranea notices close they are to each other. They are not close enough. This moment will pass. Lunafreya will look back out at the darkness. She will pretend that she is not scared. That she has not cried. She will eat. Will sleep and drink. Shit and shed dead skin cells. And she will be that something not alike.

The impossible happens. Lunafreya leans closer toward her. Her heart cannot beat. Or it beats too fast for Aranea to notice.

"You should kiss me," Aranea whispers without thinking.

Lunafreya stops. She is going to lean away. Just like Aranea saying Princess: they will pretend that this never happened.

But Lunafreya moves even closer. And something touches her cheek. Something warm.

When Lunafreya leans away, there is no smile on her quivering lips. Maybe she is looking for words herself. Aranea has none to lend her. For a few seconds, neither of them speak. Then Aranea touches her fingertips to that tingling spot on her cheek.

"We best take this time to rest," Lunafreya says. "Good night, Aranea."

Lunafreya turns her eyes back in the direction of the Rock of Ravatogh. The edges of her lips tug downward. Her eyebrows do too. When Aranea follows her gaze, she sees nothing but darkness. Oh. This must be why she was crying. Her eyes dart to her again as Lunafreya makes to stand up. The air is too dry in Aranea's throat. By the time she can speak, Lunafreya is on her feet and stepping toward the hatch. She has left the lamp by Aranea.

"Wait," she says, twisting herself around to face her.

"Yes?" Lunafreya stops walking. It looks like she might be smiling. But Aranea knows to trust her instincts over her eyes. Scooting away from the edge, Aranea scrambles to get to her feet. She picks up in the lamp in one hand.

"I—" Damn it. "If you're thinking that— shit, look, this shit isn't your fault." Swinging her free hand out, Aranea gestures vaguely at the night. Lunafreya blinks sharply. At least, Aranea thinks she does. It is hard to tell in this darkness.

Then Lunafreya just nods her head. And takes another step toward the hatch. Damn it! She said the wrong words again. She has to get through Lunafreya's thick skull. She has to get her to see that— "...this was just a shitty hand you got dealt. You have to realize that!"

But Lunafreya's dazed expression tells her that she does not.

"It..." Her voice trails off. Then— "I know."

Before Aranea can say anything else, Lunafreya lowers herself down through the hatch and out of sight. Even though she has the lamp in her hand, the darkness feels somehow denser than earlier. Aranea is chilled. The only warmth she feels is the spot on her cheek.

It feels like the last place the sunlight had touched her.