Chapter Text
“Did you have a bad dream?”
Nazamil’s stare darted to the woman sitting by the campfire. The quiet concern in her tone and the gentleness of her eyes helped Nazamil’s heart to settle. In her dreams, she was always being chased–so much like her reality that she would jump up from a deep sleep and be ready to run. No wonder Shionne had recognized that she had just had a nightmare. She gave a reluctant nod.
“Why don't you come sit with me until you feel ready to sleep again?”
Not wanting to appear ungrateful, Nazamil moved to sit on the crate next to Shionne. When she had fallen asleep, Alphen had been the one keeping watch; he and Shionne must have traded places at some point. The two of them had been so unusually kind to her. Even when they learned who her father was, even when they learned who her mother was… They told her that she could trust the other four who had joined them to be just as understanding, but she still felt most at ease when it was only them.
“I used to have a lot of nightmares,” Shionne said, prompting Nazamil to peek at her. “I never said anything about them, but if someone noticed I couldn't sleep, they'd talk with me.” She inclined her head and motioned to their sleeping companions with her chin. “It bothered me at first. I was so used to being alone, and my dreams left me shaken in a way that I didn't want anyone to see. Eventually I came to appreciate it, though. It warmed my heart once I understood that they were just worried about me.”
When Nazamil had lived on Lenegis, no one cared about how she had slept. They didn't ask her if she felt rested for the next experiment, just moved ahead with their personal goals. “I… I think I’d like it, if you talked with me.”
Shionne smiled at first, warm and welcoming, but then her brows knitted together in consternation. “I was never the one to choose a topic of conversation…it's hard to come up with one out of nowhere.” She crossed her arms and drummed her fingers on her elbow.
Not wanting to be a burden, Nazamil asked the first question that came to mind: “What will you be doing after you bring me to Viscint?” Her chest tightened strangely when she asked her question. She would never say it aloud, but she hoped that Shionne and Alphen would stay there too, although she suspected that relocating her there must have been a way to free themselves from the burden of her presence.
“Looking into more mausoleums, I guess.” Shionne sighed, her fingers pressing into opposite elbows as she kept her arms crossed.
“Do you want to do that?”
“Not really, if I’m being honest. It wasn't what I had hoped my life would be like once we had freed Dahna.”
“What did you hope for?”
“W-Well…” Shionne lifted her hand to cover her face for a moment, then lowered it with a huff. “For one, I hoped I’d be camping less. I want a house with a pantry full of food so I don't need to wing it with ingredients every day. I’d have so much more freedom with outfits if I had a house to store clothes in too.” Her gaze passed over their sleeping companions, a hint of a smile appearing again. “I guess what I really dream of is a home. None of us really have one right now–Rinwell is borrowing a room at the palace, and so is Kisara. Dohalim has an apartment in Pelegion but he doesn't want to stay there. Law is always on the road or sleeping in a bed of hay at the ranch. If I someday get that house, I want everyone to feel welcome there.”
A home where people could feel welcome… Nazamil wondered what that was like. It was hard to imagine when the only ‘homes’ she had known were the lifeless husk that was Pelegion's castle, and the cold exam rooms at the Lenegis research facility, and the even more sterile halls of the Milgrasse estate. She had felt like an outsider every time she set foot in any of those places; maybe one day she could walk into a building without trepidation. “I think that's a really nice hope.”
“You’d be welcome too, Nazamil.”
She jumped a little, her eyes lifting to Shionne. She…did she hear her correctly? That couldn't be right, could it? They were bringing her to Viscint to be rid of her. That was what she kept telling herself so, whatever happened, she wouldn't be disappointed. She couldn't let herself hope. “Me?”
“Of course!” Shionne reached her hand out towards Nazamil’s shoulder, but froze before she touched her. She seemed to shake her head, just a tiny bit like she was trying to snap herself out of a daze, and then let her hand rest on Nazamil. Her touch was delicate and uncertain, but somehow warm and comforting. Maybe Shionne meant what she was saying. Maybe she really was that kind. “When I think of the future, more than anything, I don't want to be alone.”
“Me too,” Nazamil whispered.
The touch that had been so hesitant on her shoulder became a sudden vice grip. “I promise you won't be,” Shionne said, leaning down so her eyes were in line with Nazamil's. “We won't let that happen.”
“...Thank you.”
Shionne pursed her lips and sat upright again, her hands folded in her lap. “We can talk about more lighthearted dreams if you like, though. It's hard to sleep after heavy conversations.” She tapped her index finger against her leg, apparently finding the topic a challenge. “Oh I know! Maybe I could learn to sew my own clothes. It kind of bothers me that Renan and Dahnan fashion is so distinct from each other–now that the worlds are one, those styles should blend more too.”
Blending Dahnan and Renan styles… Nazamil still wasn't convinced that this new world was ready for that, just like how the world didn't seem ready for someone like her to exist. But they kept telling her that it would be different in Menancia, that the people there would accept her for who she was. “I hope people would wear them,” Nazamil said, fussing with the edge of her dress.
“They would. I believe things can change. I’ve seen miracles I never would have thought were possible, and I want you to believe in miracles like that too, Nazamil.” The reassuring, tight-lipped smile that she had been carefully maintaining while they spoke suddenly broke into a glowing grin. “You know, I might want to have kids with a Dahnan someday. And if I do, they'll be just like you. ”
And she could say that while smiling so brightly, not feeling disappointed by that possibility? Nazamil couldn't understand it, but she didn't want to doubt it either.
In a quiet voice, so much a whisper that Nazamil wasn't sure she was supposed to hear it, Shionne added, “Maybe that's something to dream of for the future too…”
Having hopeful dreams wasn't something Nazamil was used to, but when she finally returned to her bedroll, she let herself dream that Shionne's descriptions of a peaceful future could come true.