Rayla stared at her reflection within the looking glass. With nimble, practiced fingers, she released her hair's chignon and unwound the tightest braids adoring her head, taking care not to snag her horns. Usually, she would try to sleep with it as is, but considering this was her only night of luxury, she decided, heck - why not go all out?

She splashed water on her face, careful not to wet her undergarments, as the elf didn't pack any formal bedclothes. Instead, she released the various belts and buckles to her outfit and packed a few extra chemises - pajamas were for reserved residences, like the castle.

The elf perused the various amenities given by the inn - much like the strangely odorous candy on the beds (again, Moonshadow Elves would never!), the hotel seemed to offer a myriad of complimentary items in the washroom. Sweet-smelling oils, atmospheric candles, a wide-tooth ivory comb, and bath salts were lined neatly in a basket, untouched and ready for use.

Everything seemed reasonable for a high-end inn to have - that is, except for a random jar of something that lay perched next to the personal washbin and pitcher of water. Rayla peered down to get a better view, and saw that the little things were cut in various shapes, as if a carpenter carved them - but the material wasn't wood. Little shells, heads of flowers, leaves, and lacey cabochons were piled high, all in pastel tones of pink, cream, and lilac.

Could these possibly be for children? was her curious thought, as they appeared to be little playthings for wee humans.

But…there was one thing notably missing from the fancy bathroom.

With a huff, Rayla turned on her heels and entered the bedroom. She located her pack, and began ruffling through her personal items to fetch some of the castle's house-made lard soap, sighing as she did so.

"Everything alright?"

The elf paused her search to find Callum inquiring, comfortably situated on the lone mattress on the floor. He was sleepy, albeit a little confused.

"This bathroom's got everything," complained Rayla, finally located the bar, "Candles. Soaking salts. Everything except soap ."

She quickly made her way back to the bathroom, until she heard - "What are you talking about?"

"This washroom," Rayla reasoned. "They'll provide perfume but they can't provide you with a way to wash off the day's stink?"

Now Callum was fully awake. He tossed the covers aside, swung his legs over the edge of the bed (which, being it was on the floor, wasn't that high), and dragged himself over to the lavatory.

The young man (who Rayla noticed had stripped off his leather coat and gambeson, donning only his undergarments) stood in the doorway, peered inward, and simply pointed at the vanity.

"What?" stated the elf, still befuddled. "You're telling me this place is so fancy that the pitcher of water already has something mixed in?"

Callum tutted, and drew himself further in the room. He gleaned the jar from its place, holding it in front of Rayla's face. "Did you not…?"

"The toys?" Rayla questioned, and then something seemed to click in Callum's brain. His eyes widened - now it was his turn to laugh.

"I don't get it," the elf mused, clearly not understanding the gist.

"Rayla," Callum chuckled, "This is it. Soap ."

"No…?" the elf defended, and then, "Wait, really?" She gingerly picked up a little flowerhead and sniffed. Its waxy, hardened texture felt similar to the lard soap that was in her other hand, but she had to admit - it smelled infinitely better.

"I thought - " she started, which only made Callum chortle more. She wanted to be annoyed at him, but felt the corners of her mouth turn upward despite. "Well, humans put candy on pillows !"

"That," he said, wiping his eyes and leaving to go back to bed, "is for making fun of me when I fell off the bed."

One by one, Rayla distinguished the remaining candles in the room as she truly readied herself for sleep.

Stella had seated herself upon Bait - her new favorite sleeping spot, Rayla mused. The two creatures seemed to be already on their way to dreamland, a quiet, content look adorning their faces.

The elf sat upon the mattress, pulling the quilt to expose the sheets within. She scuttled under the blankets, enjoying the delightfully cool sensation on her skin, and reveled in the enveloping feel of the comfy, cozy, cushy mattress.

For a minute, she peered up at the slanted ceiling, letting her eyes wander and adjust to the now-dark room. It was quiet, save for the tiny little sounds of sleep coming from Bait and Stella across the room.

She wondered if Callum had fallen asleep.

She wondered if Callum would want to say something before they both drifted.

She wondered if - -

"Rayla?"

The voice came at her from within the darkness, and it sent a shiver down her spine - but in the most pleasant way. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she inhaled to answer, "Yes?"

A pause, then…

"Goodnight, Rayla. Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams, Callum. Goodnight."

"You're too late. I've already won."

"No no no no - RAYLAAA!"

She's falling again. Viren's body is plummeting to the ground, and now so is she.

Her duty as last Last Dragonguard gave her no choice but to save Zym. She was to sacrifice anything and everything to ensure he was safe, even if it meant her life .

"RAYLA!"

Her body twists as her gaze flies upwards. And now Callum is there, reaching for her as he flies through the skies.

'Callum…'

His name races through her mind as she reaches up for him, knowing in her heart that he spreads his wings and catches her in his embrace, flying them away to safety.

But as the seconds tick, and she falls faster, Callum's form disappears without a trace.

"You're too late."

That voice. Melodious. Haughty. Familiar.

"I've already won."

"NO - ! !"

Araavos floats above her, his starry silhouette smirking as he watches her fall. His eyebrows narrow in evil mirth as his lips utter, "I can't wait to swallow you."

"CALLUM!"

And now, hands - -

"Auuugh!"

Her body rips away from a grip, and the elf subconsciously flails her arms in defense.

She is shaking, and her breath leaves in uneven spurts as she attempts to control it - in and out, in and out …

"Rayla…"

A soft voice catches her ear. A warm hand touches her face, and she finally gets the courage to open her eyes.

Callum is there, gingerly clutching her cheek as his eyes search her in concern. He is sitting on the edge of the bed as he watches Rayla attempt to shake off the nightmare.

"You were crying in your sleep," the young man whispers. Rayla nods, still shaking from the images in her mind's eye.

There were so many nights on the road like this - waking up in a cold sweat, images of Viren taunting her brain - and so many nights, she imagined he would be there to comfort her.

And now… now …here he was.

A rattled sigh escapes through Rayla's teeth as she leans into his touch, unafraid now that the figurative door for intimacy was open. Slowly, she moves her own hand up to meet his, quietly willing the still-present tremors to cease.

And it happens.

He drops his grip, and for a moment, Rayla's dazed mind can't quite register what is happening. Wisps of confusion muddle her thoughts as she wonders why he would move his hand - that is, until she feels his body sidle into bed beside her.

Callum moves fluidly, silently slipping under the quilt, His arms wrap around her form securely, and before she knows what's happening, the mage has her in a close embrace.

Her heart nearly bursts, and the battling emotions - the images of her nightmare combined with the comfort of Callum's affection - well up inside. She presses her head against his chest and lets the tears fall.

"I'm here," the mage soothes, squeezing her tighter as his own head touches her crown. The musk of his tired skin wafts through her nostrils, and despite her fears, that feeling is ever present - the feeling of home .

Much like the inn itself, home is a luxury to people like Rayla - a Moonshadow Ghost, an elf of the road, a wanderer looking for her place and purpose.

But…it's a luxury she is willing to splurge for - especially if it meant Callum was there, too.