There are plenty of characters in Ebon Light. These five - Ernol, Laceaga, Duliae, Haron, and Vadeyn - appear regularly, each with their own views and attitudes. They're all potential love interests, too, which makes me feel spoiled for choice!
I don't know if you can romance more than one at a time because I haven't tried. I'm on my third playthrough, using each new romance to experience more of the story and so far, it's been quite satisfying. Choosing a favored character reveals more about them and may open up new scenes.
The creator has said that there's no suggested order for romances, except to leave Duliae for last. I intend to do just that, which makes me determined to get through to that fifth playthrough. And instead of being antsy to get it over with, I'm looking forward to it!
In all seriousness, this is one of the few VNs I've played so far that has made me want to seek out fanfic to read because I want more of the characters. And to soothe my broken heart after finding out I can't romance Commander Calipoa, but that's a whole other post.
I am so starved of Ebon Light content that I'm cooking by myself the worst, the most gut-wrenchig and just plotless piece of faniction. I hope that Duliae nation is ready for this abomination <3
havent finished anything that i can publish in a while bc COVID lmfao but!!! i have fics for ebon light and my ocs bc. i am. obsessed a lil. it kept me company while I was sick lol
“And what were you getting at?”
His eyes glint as he tilts his head a little. “You can’t guess?”
Can he hear my heart pounding in my chest right now? she wonders, hand still in his, eyes locked on his.
The amethyst jewels that are his eyes glitter faintly with amusement as he gently detangles his hand from hers, reaching up to brush his fingers ever so softly against the curve of her cheek. His eyes follow his fingers against her skin, soft velvet tracing over the dusting of freckles across the arch of her cheekbone, and then down, down, until his thumb finds the raised flesh of an old scar on her chin.
He lingers there, eyes on her mouth as his thumb makes another pass, this time tugging slightly until her lips fall parted at the touch.
“I have not felt… an attachment like this in years,” he tells her, voice so low it’s like he’s telling her a secret. “Decades. A century, even.” His eyes leave her mouth to come back to hers, a question burning in them now. “How do you feel about that? About this… personal… fondness… I’ve developed for you…?”
Her face burns with the flush that comes with his undivided attention, and she leans into his touch on her face subconsciously, smiling faintly at him. “That depends,” she breathes.
“On?”
“Whether your fondness is for me… or the poison in my veins,” she says, but there is only the barest hint of a question in her tone. His interest could very well solely be in the marrow she’d been forced to drink and she would still be welcoming, would still crave his touch and demand his attention whenever she could.
For, once his eyes are on her, it feels much like having the attention of something far bigger than her, like something mighty being laid bare at her feet. She feels at times as if she is standing on a ledge overlooking the stormy sea, and every glance of his eyes, every brush of his fingers, every thought shared is like the brush of the sea spray against her bare skin. It is like the kiss of something she could never hope to comprehend, waiting to drag her into its depths and consume her for all that she is.
Those eyes are on her now, and his smile is careful, and maybe a touch bitter, as he says, “Darling, we have long been past that point. If you wished the Cuthintal taken from you tomorrow, I would do everything in my power to rid you of it. It is you I want to spend my time with—not the ghost in your blood.”
Her breath leaves her in a shaky whoosh as her eyes drop to his lips, almost of their own accord. She brings them back to his eyes as she smiles and says, “Well, in that case… your affection is most welcome. In fact, I might dare say that your affection is wanted. Desired. Craved, even.”
The smile he gives her is nothing short of joyous, and she’s worried for a moment that it might actually make her heart stop.
His fingers curl against her skin until they hook under her chin, tilting her head and encouraging her ever closer. Duliae’s eyes this close are breathtaking in the firelight, and she can feel herself trembling as she clutches at the hem of her dress, trying to hold still lest she scare him off. The tip of his nose brushes hers as he murmurs a phrase softly in Gha’alian, voice so low that she can almost feel the rumble of it in his chest.
“Lei vatelan ruan’naen.”
“My precious… gold?” she tries, mind slow to translate with his breath fanning across her lips as it is.
She can feel the curve of his lips as he smiles. “Treasure. My precious treasure.”
He kisses her before she can even begin to think of a response—and she melts into him.
Never has a kiss felt so consuming. From the first press of his lips, she has already lost herself in him, in the sheer fact that such a powerful, beautiful man has decided she is worth his time. Worth his touch. She knows why he holds others at such a distance, and if she lives to see nearly 300 years she thinks she would be much the same as him. How can you, after all, continue to allow people in when all they will do is leave?
But he’s seen something in her that must be different. She doesn’t know what it could be or why, but she can feel it in the way he kisses her. Can feel the tension and the excitement buzzing under his skin, can feel the release in every breath he takes with each new kiss he bestows upon her lips. His hand slips into the hair at the nape of her neck and settles there, pressing just hard enough that he is in control of the kiss as he tilts his head and deepens it. It’s almost a race to keep up with him as he kisses her harder, and she finds her fingers clutching at him as she gives in—one hand on his sleeve, the other at his collar.
She hums softly, the sound only a hair’s breadth away from being something vulgar, when the hand he’d had draped over the back of the couch comes to rest very pointedly on her thigh. His fingers are long and graceful, dextrous hands large enough that his fingers reach nearly from one side of her thigh to the other as he touches her. Those same fingers dig into the meat of her when one of her hands drops to grab at his wrist—but she doesn’t stop him, instead just pressing his hand down more firmly, encouraging it to slide a little higher.
His breathless, satisfied laughter into her lips tastes so sweet that she worries she may find herself addicted before long.
“You,” he starts against her lips, though he trails off with a laugh as he tries to kiss her around his grin. “You make me feel like an elfling, darling.” He groans softly, kissing her deeper again for just a moment before he tries to speak some more. “What magic you’ve worked on me…”
Andromeda finds herself laughing into his mouth, giddy and breathless, as she says, “Me? But I think it must be you who has worked the magic, Duliae—such a charming, beautiful man shouldn’t be interested in someone like me. What ulterior motives do you have?”
He chuckles, pressing his forehead to hers. “You jest, but any ulterior motives I had for the Cuthintal are long gone. Anything left would be a scheme for the good of us both.”
She hums, sighing softly and trying her best to ignore the way the sound comes out sounding blissful in every way. “I love a good scheme,” she says, laughing when he snorts and tilts his head to start peppering kisses along her jawline. “You should’ve seen me at Lonre’s party. I had his guests practically eating from my hand by the time the night was over.”
His teeth drag tantalizingly against her jaw as he murmurs, “Oh, believe me, I regret it with everything I have that I didn’t get to see you dazzling them all.” He kisses his way down her neck then, nudging her shirt to the side so he can bite at the place where her neck meets her shoulder. “From what I gather, Lonre was almost angry about how well you did.”
Andromeda’s head falls back, relying on his hand to keep her upright now, as Duliae continues to kiss at her neck. His breath is hot on her skin as he brings his mouth back to her ear, voice low and rough as he murmurs, “It’s a good thing he’s happily married—otherwise, I may have had to work harder to seduce you.”
She laughs at that, grasping at his wrist as she straightens a little, still leaning into him as he presses a kiss to her cheek. “You’ve seduced me, have you?”
“Mm. Not good enough, yet? Maybe I just need to try a little harder, hmm?”
“Oh, by all means,” she sighs, turning her head in search of his lips, “try harder.”
Duliae catches her by the jaw with one hand, pulling back to fix her with a look that is all heat, lavender eyes half-lidded and molten. A small part of her tries weakly to protest being held in place as she is, but a much larger part of her is too focused on watching his lips curl into a wicked grin to care. His gaze trails indulgently over her features, a calculating look in his eye that sends heat coiling low in her gut at the dark promises lurking there, before it finally settles on her mouth.
His thumb presses at her lower lip, dragging it down as he hums in consideration, a low rumble in his chest. When he speaks, his voice is half a whisper, half a rasp. “And, is that what you want, my darling? For me to try harder? For me to…” he starts, and then pauses, tilting his head as if considering the options, eyes still on her mouth, “...to put my hands on you? Take you to my bed and ravish you?”
Mind addled with the heat of him, Andromeda struggles to remember how to speak. Her breath is coming shaky and shallow, and she is absolutely trembling as his nose brushes against hers, nuzzling in such a soft, sweet gesture that her eyes fall shut just to savor it. Her lips tingle in anticipation of his touch, and she shifts anxiously on the sofa, hands fluttering for a moment before finding purchase on his knees.
His lips form the words against hers when she doesn’t answer him fast enough.
“Tell me,” is nothing more than a breath into her mouth, more a shape than a sound, he’s so close to her now.
She can feel a whimper pressing shamelessly at the back of her throat as she digs her nails into his thighs, trying to ground herself as she presses forward to sink her lips into his—and he pulls back just slightly, just enough to keep the tiny space between them, to deny her what she so desperately wants until she does as he requested.
“Duliae—” she gasps, leaning after him, aching to feel his lips on hers again.
He just chuckles softly, pressing his forehead to hers. “Tell me what you want, my darling,” he repeats, voice still low and gentle, and he brushes his knuckles across her cheek as his hand slides to cup her neck once more. “Tell me, and it will be yours.”
“Kiss me.”
She barely gets the words out before his mouth is crashing into hers, both of them inhaling sharply the second their lips meet.
