#deiala

[siennablaze219]

Art of my bookseller Deiala Vyeaniux by @saltmatey

[pathyn]

The note was simple. She recognized the writing because she had read it more than once before. Occasionally when a message needed to be relayed to the Shadows without drawing attention. More often on the menu at the Pig and Whistle.

It had been some time, but it was not something Dei forgot. Dei, being Dei, wouldn’t forget it even if she had only seen it once.

She didn’t bother reaching out to Pathyn. This was familiar, and she liked the feel of it after Northrend. Path had been right, that had been a dead end, but she would figure it out. Hopefully by finding him.

She was on edge. While the others were busy with the important work with the conflict. News on her end had been scarce, save for one thing: the sense that the watcher from the tree across the pond had returned.

It wasn’t often. Just enough to notice. A feeling. A prickle. She had looked, more than once, and seen no one. Neither had Pathyn.

Lifting her skirts, she stepped up and into the tavern. From behind the bar, Reese lifted a hand in greeting. She liked him. He had seen the first signs of her drinking problem, and had tipped off Kyean, who had been watching for threats outside, not the ones she was doing to herself.

Reese set a box on the bar.

Perfectly square. Wrapped in white paper scattered with silver snowflakes, finished with a silver-and-blue bow. It was pretty in a way that felt deliberate.

She picked it up, turned it once, then gave it a gentle shake. Whatever was inside was solid, heavy enough to matter. On the top was a note, written in a hand that tugged at something familiar without quite revealing why.

For: Deiala Vyneaniux.

“Thanks, Reese,” she said, lifting a hand in a small wave and smiling.

She took the long way back to her shop, a slight bounce in her step. A secret gift. Mysterious. She already had gifts from the people she expected, this made it something else entirely.

At the door, she flashed the signal to let Pathyn know she was fine, then carried the box inside. She chatted briefly with the children playing in their corner as she passed, her smile easy, practiced.

In her office, the urge to open it immediately tugged at her, but she had lived under fear for too long to give in to impulse. She examined the box thoroughly, checked for magic, for wards, for traces of anything unnatural.

Nothing.

Carefully, she untied the bow, preserving the shape, the moment. A small smile touched her lips. Secret gifts were the sort of things other women received. Not her. Not since….

She froze.

Pretty boxes, pretty bows for a pretty girl.

The memory hit hard. She shoved the box across the desk and sat back, trembling. It didn’t have to mean anything. Not everything in her life had to circle back to him. Maybe this was something new. Something better.

She stared at the box until her breathing slowed.

When she pulled it back to her, her movements were methodical. Precise. She lifted the lid and found a false bottom, added padding gave weight disguising what lay beneath. Under it sat a small jeweler’s box.

“Well then.”

She flipped it open.

Inside was a necklace: a half-heart pendant, the kind lovers split between them. This one was blank. No initials. No engraving.

Half an empty heart.

It could have meant anything. But the first thought that came tightened her chest until it hurt.

She didn’t know how long she stared before she moved again. Eventually, she messaged Pathyn and lowered the wards on the entrance to the back offices, a precaution she never abandoned. Only she could enter the office itself. Pathyn knew better than to try.

When he stepped inside, he looked at her first.

Then at the golden chain dangling from her fingers.

Pathyn’s gaze dropped to the golden chain, to the half-heart resting against her fingers.

“Anything engraved on it?”

He knew there wasn’t, the light caught cleanly on the metal, revealing no imperfections, but he needed her attention anchored on something tangible. Anything but the meaning she was building in her head.

“No.”

“Anything on the card? Something different about the wrapping?”

Dei’s eyes were locked on the pendant, too focused, as if she could see through the metal itself. “No. And no magical traces. Nothing at all.”

He stepped closer and gently took it from her. The dark Kaldorei turned the piece once, then nodded. “We’ll look into who might have sold it.”

“It could’ve been bought anywhere,” she said. There was the faintest trace of emotion returning to her voice, good. “They’re common. I see them everywhere. A first-love kind of thing. Half the young women in the city wear them.”

He repackaged it carefully. The necklace. The box. The paper. Even the bow. “We’ll still look into it, Dei. Could be someone who’s taken a shine to you.” A pause, just enough to tease. “Can’t blame them, really, with all the parties and balls you attend.”

She turned her head and pinned him with a glare. He was very glad she didn’t add magic to it, though even if she had, he’d made certain long ago he wasn’t particularly vulnerable to such things.

Tucking the box away, he stepped back. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

He wasn’t entirely sure of that, but he was sure of one thing: it was time to bring Kyean back. Kye had a way of steadying her that Pathyn never quite managed. She listened to him. Deferred to him. More than anyone else.

“Could you reach out to Kyeanadril?”

He knew she was too proud to ask on her own. That old crush of hers hadn’t faded, and she was terrible at hiding it.

“Of course,” she said. “He can stay here. I’ll go follow up on this.”

Her shoulders slumped just a fraction.

“Thanks, Pathyn. I know it’s not fun, being stuck here.”

He smiled and tipped her chin up lightly with his fingers. “What do you mean, Dei?” he said dryly. “Stormwind is giggles a minute. Absolutely love this city.”

(Divider by Sister Lucifer)