Well Met By Moonlight
Posted: Sun Feb 01, 2026 3:00 am
Cylus 3rd, 726
Zi’da had vanished, and with it had gone the sun.
The Cylus wind bit. It chased and nipped and tore at clothes, whistling through the streets of Scalvoris Town like a shepherd’s boy with no task but to irritate the sheep. The folk of that city, the good, decent folk who knew to stay alive with words and money alone, all tightened their coats and lowered their heads against the chill, eager to finish their business and more eager to be inside.
To the hunter amongst them, the cold’s edge was no more a concern than falling leaves.
The new year had left the streets emptier than usual, and Divi’s great mass forded them with ease. The silver dapple gelding snorted against the temperature, vapor billowing from his nostrils like a dragon. Steam curled off his flank, for they had been moving swiftly and relentlessly ever since catching sight of Scalvoris Town. Even so, the stocky draft’s pace remained strong.
The real spectacle of the journey was Ailuhn, trailing from a makeshift halter behind Divi’s rear with Monya following behind her. With no saddle or blanket, the creature kept warm by the strength of her own scales and nothing else. With mane and tail flowing behind her like an eel through water, she cut a striking figure whenever Cylus lantern light fell upon their little caravan. More than one passersby stared and pointed, but Jinyel paid them no mind ― Ailuhn could keep up, and that was all he could afford to worry about.
It was Lotus who was most valiant at the journey, whose short legs managed to keep surprisingly level pace with the much larger Divi and Ailuhn. The pony trotted on Divi’s left, and on his right followed their newest addition: a black, nimble stallion by the name of Masoch.
Jinyel knew it was improper to simply take the animal, but Sade had an entire ship to deal with. There was also no telling how long it would take to deal with his leech of a father. Jinyel’s task seemed no trouble at all by comparison, but it was difficult to feel any relief ― despite what Sade said, despite all claims of familial piety, the thief’s life always seemed measurably, painfully worse when his father was around.
The price of Pirvek’s happiness always seemed to demand Sade give up his own, and as someone to whom Sade’s happiness was a grave concern, Jinyel would have loved nothing more than to end this marriage by throwing the old biqaj into the sea. He’d never thought of himself as vengeful, but every now and then he would think of holding Pirvek down and grafting an artery to the back of his neck, forcing pints of that silver blood into the man’s son even though Sade didn’t need it. Give something back to him, you parasite, make this all worth it. Make your breath worth it. Make it make sense, why he loves your worthless hide so much.
All those words he couldn’t scream rolled between his teeth like stones, because they were not what Sade had asked them.
They weren’t what Sade wanted.
And Jinyel didn’t have to understand Sade’s wants to honor them.
The hunter did not belong here, amongst these hard streets and wooden walls and people. People who knew how to be people, and who understood words like “Judge” and “Law” and “Annul.” Who knew how to read pieces of paper before they signed them, and who would never have fallen into a trap like this. Any one of them might be able to help, he knew, but he dared not ask ― to even speak his words aloud felt like they would surely find their way back to the Hollow Prince.
Two seasons it had been now. Nearly a whole cycle of moving to and from the Prince’s roof, taking supplies from the Prince’s larder, and following the Prince from one end of Emea to the other. It was enough to forge a bond of trust ― it should have been. Jinyel could not explain why it wasn’t.
He could not explain why he still swallowed whenever he realized the Prince was beside him, or why the thought of the Prince knowing anything about Sade made his throat close up.
But Jinyel needed help to get what Sade wanted. But he barely knew anyone else on this island except for Artiga… and Rickith, Artiga’s laboratory neighbor. And he knew far less about Rickith than Rickith knew about him.
It was hard to tell the time of day now that Jinyel’s sun was gone, but the University of Scalvoris seemed barren. It was either very late or very early, and he didn’t care to linger and find out which.
A modest stable stood near the University entrance, with a pile of blankets on the stablehouse porch which soon proved to be the watchman. Two cold, bleary eyes stared up at Jinyel and his animals.
“You… are you here to deliver something?” A gangly, mop-haired teenager unburrowed from the pile. “The pony?”
No, Jinyel snapped. “No. Mine. All mine.”
“Three horses and a pony is a lot of stall space for one man, sir―”
Don’t care. “Won’t be long.” Jinyel dismounted and took Divi by the reins. “Where to?”
“Well, we have three stalls open, but the pony will have to share―what?”
The watchboy gasped so loudly that it made the whole courtyard echo. His eyes stretched wide as plates, his blankets sloughed off like old skin, and he flailed his hands as if the Immortals themselves had gathered before him.
“A sarkin!” the boy exclaimed, barely seeming to breathe. “By Soaire’s tits and turtles, it’s a sarkin!”
With his eyes, Jinyel followed a pointed finger to Ailuhn.
“Is that a delivery?” the boy rasped. “Please tell me that’s a delivery, please tell me it’s staying here.”
“No.” Aggression. “She is mine. With me. For no one else.”
“Oh.” The boy’s face fell. “Well, I’ll see to it she stays nice and warm, sir, we’ve got a stall fresh full of straw. Feel free to take as long as you want in your classes, she hasn’t a thing to worry about while I’m here.”
If it were under different circumstances, Jinyel would have turned around and taken them all into the wilderness where no one could so much as see Ailuhn. But these weren’t different circumstances, and he could not vanish to the wilds until he’d gotten free of this… predicament.
And so it was with an impatient frown that Jinyel handed over his animals, called Monya to his heel, and strode toward the University laboratories. He didn’t know if Artiga was even awake, or where she might be if not in their shared workshop. It was entirely likely he wouldn’t find her at all, and he didn’t know what he would do after that. But his options were this or the Prince. Everything else could be decided once he reached the laboratories.
Zi’da had vanished, and with it had gone the sun.
The Cylus wind bit. It chased and nipped and tore at clothes, whistling through the streets of Scalvoris Town like a shepherd’s boy with no task but to irritate the sheep. The folk of that city, the good, decent folk who knew to stay alive with words and money alone, all tightened their coats and lowered their heads against the chill, eager to finish their business and more eager to be inside.
To the hunter amongst them, the cold’s edge was no more a concern than falling leaves.
The new year had left the streets emptier than usual, and Divi’s great mass forded them with ease. The silver dapple gelding snorted against the temperature, vapor billowing from his nostrils like a dragon. Steam curled off his flank, for they had been moving swiftly and relentlessly ever since catching sight of Scalvoris Town. Even so, the stocky draft’s pace remained strong.
The real spectacle of the journey was Ailuhn, trailing from a makeshift halter behind Divi’s rear with Monya following behind her. With no saddle or blanket, the creature kept warm by the strength of her own scales and nothing else. With mane and tail flowing behind her like an eel through water, she cut a striking figure whenever Cylus lantern light fell upon their little caravan. More than one passersby stared and pointed, but Jinyel paid them no mind ― Ailuhn could keep up, and that was all he could afford to worry about.
It was Lotus who was most valiant at the journey, whose short legs managed to keep surprisingly level pace with the much larger Divi and Ailuhn. The pony trotted on Divi’s left, and on his right followed their newest addition: a black, nimble stallion by the name of Masoch.
Jinyel knew it was improper to simply take the animal, but Sade had an entire ship to deal with. There was also no telling how long it would take to deal with his leech of a father. Jinyel’s task seemed no trouble at all by comparison, but it was difficult to feel any relief ― despite what Sade said, despite all claims of familial piety, the thief’s life always seemed measurably, painfully worse when his father was around.
The price of Pirvek’s happiness always seemed to demand Sade give up his own, and as someone to whom Sade’s happiness was a grave concern, Jinyel would have loved nothing more than to end this marriage by throwing the old biqaj into the sea. He’d never thought of himself as vengeful, but every now and then he would think of holding Pirvek down and grafting an artery to the back of his neck, forcing pints of that silver blood into the man’s son even though Sade didn’t need it. Give something back to him, you parasite, make this all worth it. Make your breath worth it. Make it make sense, why he loves your worthless hide so much.
All those words he couldn’t scream rolled between his teeth like stones, because they were not what Sade had asked them.
They weren’t what Sade wanted.
And Jinyel didn’t have to understand Sade’s wants to honor them.
The hunter did not belong here, amongst these hard streets and wooden walls and people. People who knew how to be people, and who understood words like “Judge” and “Law” and “Annul.” Who knew how to read pieces of paper before they signed them, and who would never have fallen into a trap like this. Any one of them might be able to help, he knew, but he dared not ask ― to even speak his words aloud felt like they would surely find their way back to the Hollow Prince.
Two seasons it had been now. Nearly a whole cycle of moving to and from the Prince’s roof, taking supplies from the Prince’s larder, and following the Prince from one end of Emea to the other. It was enough to forge a bond of trust ― it should have been. Jinyel could not explain why it wasn’t.
He could not explain why he still swallowed whenever he realized the Prince was beside him, or why the thought of the Prince knowing anything about Sade made his throat close up.
But Jinyel needed help to get what Sade wanted. But he barely knew anyone else on this island except for Artiga… and Rickith, Artiga’s laboratory neighbor. And he knew far less about Rickith than Rickith knew about him.
It was hard to tell the time of day now that Jinyel’s sun was gone, but the University of Scalvoris seemed barren. It was either very late or very early, and he didn’t care to linger and find out which.
A modest stable stood near the University entrance, with a pile of blankets on the stablehouse porch which soon proved to be the watchman. Two cold, bleary eyes stared up at Jinyel and his animals.
“You… are you here to deliver something?” A gangly, mop-haired teenager unburrowed from the pile. “The pony?”
No, Jinyel snapped. “No. Mine. All mine.”
“Three horses and a pony is a lot of stall space for one man, sir―”
Don’t care. “Won’t be long.” Jinyel dismounted and took Divi by the reins. “Where to?”
“Well, we have three stalls open, but the pony will have to share―what?”
The watchboy gasped so loudly that it made the whole courtyard echo. His eyes stretched wide as plates, his blankets sloughed off like old skin, and he flailed his hands as if the Immortals themselves had gathered before him.
“A sarkin!” the boy exclaimed, barely seeming to breathe. “By Soaire’s tits and turtles, it’s a sarkin!”
With his eyes, Jinyel followed a pointed finger to Ailuhn.
“Is that a delivery?” the boy rasped. “Please tell me that’s a delivery, please tell me it’s staying here.”
“No.” Aggression. “She is mine. With me. For no one else.”
“Oh.” The boy’s face fell. “Well, I’ll see to it she stays nice and warm, sir, we’ve got a stall fresh full of straw. Feel free to take as long as you want in your classes, she hasn’t a thing to worry about while I’m here.”
If it were under different circumstances, Jinyel would have turned around and taken them all into the wilderness where no one could so much as see Ailuhn. But these weren’t different circumstances, and he could not vanish to the wilds until he’d gotten free of this… predicament.
And so it was with an impatient frown that Jinyel handed over his animals, called Monya to his heel, and strode toward the University laboratories. He didn’t know if Artiga was even awake, or where she might be if not in their shared workshop. It was entirely likely he wouldn’t find her at all, and he didn’t know what he would do after that. But his options were this or the Prince. Everything else could be decided once he reached the laboratories.
