Unseen Scenes—End of Book Two, Treaty Version (Farah PoV) (Patreon)

“You’re really gonna live here?” Farah asks, attempting—but failing—to keep the grimace from wrinkling her nose.

The maa-alused man stares about the rough-hewn cavern with a wistful sigh, shoulders dropping as a wave of relaxation washes over him. “We certainly are.”

Farah lifts a brow. “Each to their own, I guess. Here.” She hefts the large sack she’s carrying to one corner, piling it with the others. “This is the last of the food stocks.”

“Thank you, vampiir,” the man replies, settling a hand on Farah’s shoulder and giving a nod, his other hand rests over his heart. At least where Farah assumes his heart is. Maa-alused could be made up way differently than humans and vampires. But the man does definitely have a heart, as Farah can hear the gentle thump-thump of a pulse beneath the man’s almost translucent skin.

She beams a smile. “No worries. You need anything else, just ask.” Her smile falters at the corners. “Well, you know, ask the Agency. I doubt I could actually do much personally.”

The maa-alused takes the joke as intended and gives a chuckle. “Again, thank you.”

They part ways, Farah stepping out into the sun and basking in its bright radiance, even if the air holds a numbing chill. A familiar scent drifts on the breeze, and she turns on the spot to stare across the cavern-backed clearing to find the welcome source of it.

[Name] is standing at the entrance of a different cave system, though another figure has joined them. The maa-alused leader cuts quite the figure, though apparently doesn’t plan to actually help much with any of the moving considering his fancy get-up.

“They speak of what you have done for us,” a voice comments, drawing Farah’s attention to one side where Sanja is walking towards her.

Farah shrugs, though a smile makes her eyes glimmer. “I think you mean what [Name] did. The rest of us were just along for the ride.” A gentle breath escapes her as she gazes at the Detective, her heartbeat fluttering like a jar of butterflies captured within her chest.

---

If in relationship with Farah

Sanja slides her attention between Farah and [Name]. “You speak as though you are separate, but you are as one now.”

Her smile turns to a beaming grin. “Yeah, we are. Though I’m not sure how you know that…”

-

If not in relationship with Farah

Sanja slides her attention between Farah and [Name]. “You are saddened to speak of you and them as separate. You truly wish you could be as one, do you not?”

Farah slumps. “You got that right.” She glances at the teller, pushing some humour back into her voice. “Should I even ask how you know that?”

---

Sanja shrugs, a twinkle of mischief glittering in the depths of her eyes. “It is what I do. And the sight of this certainly helped me come to realise.” She holds out something.

Farah almost blurts out a laugh as she takes the offered photo. It’s of her and the Detective at the carnival. The captured memory of [Name]’s smile is like an instant hit of ecstasy for Farah.

But a frown replaces her joyful expression, as the twinkle dims in Sanja’s expression.

“Do not wait now you have found each other. Time is precious, even to one such as you.”

“What do you mean?” Farah fidgets against the spiky bristles of fear which prickle out from the woman.

“What you will share together,” she begins, resting a hand on Farah’s arm and then looking over towards [Name]. “Your love will be a magic of its own kind. A magic more potent and unique than anything this world has experienced before.”

Her fear is brushed away by the abundance of happiness which blooms from Farah.

“Are you serious?” She swivels her head around to follow her eyeline towards [Name].

She supposes most people might be completely freaked out to learn that someone they met only a few months ago is, what…her soulmate? But the thought of it only inspires a new burst of feeling to envelop her, blocking out the lingering dark fear which clouds the teller beside her.

“But magic—love—so rare can draw attention.” Her hand tightens on Farah’s arm. “Attention you are unfamiliar with, but that is aware of you even now. They will try to break you both to mould you anew.”

Farah’s breath stammers in her throat, the dread that makes Sanja’s voice quiver causing an icy chill to seep deep into her bones.

Carefully, she peels the woman’s hand away and drops it back at her side. “You don’t know every future though, do you?”

She hesitates. “Do not ignore this warning.”

“I’m not ignoring it, just…it might not even happen,” she states, snapping her attention away and picking at the rock of the cavern wall. “There’s no need to get quite so dramatic about stuff that might not—”

“It will come,” she interjects. “Do not waste precious time.” Her body sags, as though the weight of her heavy woolen clothing is suddenly too much to bear on her slim shoulders. “You may not have much of it together.”

She offers a hollow, pitying smile, and then sways away, lost to the crowd of maa-alused busying themselves with moving crates and sacks.

Farah’s lungs almost collapse as her ribs seem to cave inwards, the woman’s warning constricting about her with the strength of a vice. She tries to suck in a breath, tries to shake away the deafening thoughts, she tries anything to rid herself of the unwanted—and seriously unnecessary—negativity she poured all over her.

Then she looks at them.

Everything drains away: all the panic, all the worry, all thoughts of anything beyond the happiness which [Name] instantly brings her.

And she knows they will weather any storm.

Together.