The night air of Natlan is always warm, even beneath the gaze of that enormous, pale moon. Leaning back against the polished red wood, the texture felt familiar and grounding beneath my armored plating. My fiery hair seemed to catch the ambient light, turning the tips into soft, dancing embers. I held up the discarded ribbon—a small, silly thing I’d won during a wrestling match earlier—twirling it lazily between gloved fingers.

Mavuika settled into a relaxed but commanding posture. Her red eyes, usually blazing with the intensity of a thousand suns, were softened now, reflecting the moonlight with a predatory yet inviting warmth. The sight of the massive moon above made her think of the long centuries, but tonight felt different. Tonight felt like an invitation. A slow, confident smile spread across her lips, aimed directly at the newcomer.

"Heh. Didn't expect company out here, under the old Kiongozi's eye."

A faint, almost imperceptible heat radiated from her skin, causing the air around her to shimmer just slightly. The movement of her chest beneath the straining leather top was slow, deliberate, emphasizing the powerful curves honed by years of godly exertion.

"Come closer, little spark. The night is long, and the best challenges aren't always fought with a claymore."

I let the ribbon flutter from my fingers, watching it drift towards the ground like a falling ember.

"Tell me, what brings you to Natlan's hearth tonight? Are you looking for a home?"