Jodariel was not the kind of person to be rattled easily. Jodariel was always stalwart, grounded in reality in a way that kept them all on their feet even when thoughts of failure threatened to topple them. But something had upset her. The Reader could feel the agitated swirl of her thoughts even as she tossed herself into the Pyre; Ignarius' words before the commencement had lodged themselves somewhere in her mind and refused to be shaken free.

Even as the Tempers' Pyre sizzled and died, The Reader could sense Jodariel's irritation long after their connection through the Rite had faded away. Ignarius' called after her, "Curly-Horns! C'mon, come back! Curly-Horns!" but Jodi ignored him. The Reader, too, ignored Ignarius' loud self-loathsome thoughts and followed Jodi back into the Blackwagon.

"Jodi?" she called, peering through the entryway to see Jodariel with her back turned, fidgeting with the mask in her hands. "Is everything alright?"

Jodi said nothing at first, keeping her eyes downcast and seemingly glaring at the ritual mask; the same that Ignarius wore. The Reader could feel her thoughts seething behind the thin walls of her mind but resisted the urge to listen to them.

"Tell me something, Reader…" she said slowly. "Back where you came from… did you have someone whom you considered close?"

The Reader paused, thinking back. "…Not really," she admitted. "When my old master was taken away the books became my life. I suppose I didn't trust anyone enough to get close." She stroked the spine of the Book in her hands. "A life of loneliness was the price I paid for the secrets I kept." She looked up, trying to catch Jodariel's eyes. "What about you?" she asked, feeling the heart of Jodi's distress coming to the surface.

Jodi's gaze remained fixed to the mask, though they were slowly becoming more distant. "…There was someone," she said hesitantly. "It is something which did not end well, but there were times…" she trailed off, brow furrowing. "…We had our times," she added, soft and melancholy.

She took a sharp, steadying breath and raised her head to at last meet the Reader's eyes. "That Ignarius," she said with a scoff. "He is a base fool. We have not a thing in common save a set of horns. Yet, here I am, drawing comparisons with how I felt at times back in the Commonwealth, while speaking to you of him."

She sighed softly, placing the mask back on its accustomed hook. "I am a little old to be having such thoughts, Reader. Especially in a place such as this." She pulled the Raiments over her head, threading them easily around her horns with practiced movements, tossing them into a basket to be washed later. She turned to leave, too reluctant or perhaps too embarrassed to look at the Reader again. "…Thank you for your time. Do not reveal this to the others. It is a trifling matter and not to be of anyone's concern. Especially not mine."

"Jodi," the Reader called before Jodariel could duck out of the Blackwagon. The Demon woman stopped and turned and this time it was the Reader who could not bring herself to meet eyes. "…This is… perhaps not what you would like to hear at this time but… I feel that I must let you know…" She took an uneasy step forward, her face slowly turning pink. "I… have grown to care for you very much myself. Strange as it sounds I can understand full well how Ignarius must feel. From the very first moment I knew that I had never met anyone like you. But… I never could have surmised the degree to which this turned out to be true."

Jodariel was silent. When the Reader finally raised her head to look Jodi was gazing back with a mixture of utmost care and deep sadness.

"Such flattery…" she said in a near whisper. "…How brave of you to say. In turn, as this conversation and all our moments together demonstrate, I have come to value your companionship."

"But," she said with a heavy sigh, "we shall have to draw a boundary there. For a variety of reasons."

She crossed the floor and gently took both the Reader's small hands in her own. "I know I am not being delicate," she said, voice begging for forgiveness she couldn't give words to. "But, you and I both understand, I think, how feelings operate. Please, forgive me mine."

"I care for you, and I am grateful that you care for me."

Once more she turned to leave, hands slipping from the Readers, but the Reader tightened her fingers and, for just a moment, it was enough to keep her there. "Jodariel," she said, almost like a prayer, and the sad, bright eyes that turned to look at her made her heart clench in her chest. "I hear what you say, and please trust me when I say that I accept it. But, before you leave, before you go back out into the unforgiving world and we must put up this barrier between us, I ask for just one thing. You are, of course, free to refuse if you wish. But I ask for just a moment in which you'll allow me to be selfish."

Jodariel studied her, and it was both like and unlike the first time they met, with the Reader a small, uncertain, vulnerable creature before the looming shape of the Demon. But many things had changed since then, and now the Reader knew what it was that she wanted out of this life. That knowledge shown in her eyes.

Jodariel cracked a tiny, bittersweet smile and, without another word, tilted the Reader's chin with a finger and stooped to kiss her.

It was a slow, gentle kiss and was, in fact, the Reader's very first. She leaned into it, awkward but growing more comfortable, tucking her fingers into the crook of Jodi's elbow. Tender though Jodariel was there was a thinly veiled eagerness to the movement of her lips as though she wished to capture as much as she could of this fleeting moment and it left behind the taste of a tentative hope for more in a future where the boundaries between them would no longer be needed.

It lasted not nearly long enough, but though the Reader longed to simply grab hold of Jodariel's horns to keep her there, she let her pull away. They stood there for a moment, foreheads close enough to touch but not quite making it. Jodariel's thumb swiped slowly across the Reader's chin. "Goodnight Reader," she said in a low whisper meant just for her.

"Goodnight Jodariel," she replied. Jodariel let go, swept out the door of the wagon, and was gone.

The Reader took a breath, reliving the memory of Jodariel's lips against hers over and over, knowing full well that she may never feel it again. Strangely enough, she didn't feel like crying. Instead, it felt as though something had ignited in space beneath her heart, fueled by a determination she never knew she was capable of. There was a future in which that kiss wasn't the last, and the Reader was prepared to make it happen.

Several days later, Jodariel stood before the radiant waters of the Shimmer-Pool, draped in robes of white.

"…After all this time…" she said, looking out at the faces of the Nightwings.

"…I never thought this day would come. I have all of you to thank for this, for doing this for me. The life that I recall back in the Commonwealth was at times difficult. And I am much older now. I know not what I shall find on my return." She straightened, the old soldier coming out in her towering height squared shoulders. "However, I know this: If that place is like the Commonwealth I left so long ago, then I shall strive to make it better. For as long as I retain my strength and breath."

Her eyes gravitated invariably back to The Reader, standing before her, face drawn but smiling softly.

"Take care of them for me," she said.

Jodariel smiled faintly in return. Just before the light engulfed her she saw the Reader mouth, almost imperceptibly, 'Wait for me'. The stubborn woman was planning something, she thought fondly. She spoke into the light, knowing the currents would carry their echo down below. "Farewell then, Reader. All of you. For now."

They finally kiss, but I had to make it a little angsty. Of course this little bit of Jodi's dialogue had to be addressed, but I never took it as an outright rejection, and in this case it certainly isn't. Don't worry though, because when the Reader gets to the Commonwealth they're gonna get married and adopt 1,000 children together.