VIII: Drowsy

Lilith passed the little black card to Nidhogg, the Black Dragon girl, letting her keep Ayla’s gift safe like a raven feather slipping from palm to palm.

She didn’t plan to keep the card herself; not because it felt too precious to bear, but for an embarrassingly simple reason, a blush rippling like dawn—she feared she’d lose it with one careless flick.

This little dragon grew scatterbrained years ago; not just bank cards—she’d lost IDs like leaves scattered by the wind.

Luckily she never lost her admission slips for those entrance exams, and as for the college entrance exam, she never even had the chance to misplace that, luck a thin umbrella in the rain.

She thought reincarnating into another world would cure it, yet her habits clung like burrs on wool.

She once had a system to stash tiny parts, and companions still fished her dropped trinkets from every corner like shells sifted from sand.

Now the Little White Dragon still hasn’t shaken it off; to keep Ayla’s gift from vanishing down some Lamter manhole with a hungry mouth, Lilith chose to entrust the black card to Nidhogg.

She looks dazed on the surface, but the Black Dragon girl is sharp like a drawn blade; Lilith could rest easy with her guarding it, better than in her own claws.

Nidhogg took the card without a word and tucked it into her bag like a pebble sinking into a still pool.

Ayla clicked her tongue in secret, a spark under her breath; the sharp Little White Dragon caught it, so Ayla turned her head and fake-coughed, clearing her throat like mist. "Where are you two planning to stay in Lamter?"

"Haven’t decided, but I’m sure you’ve arranged something," Nidhogg said, brow twisted like a knot; Ayla’s polite, shopfront smile didn’t sit right with her. "I won’t drag her into some random inn. Before the Coining Festival you need to reach her, so staying at your place is simpler."

"You do know me." Ayla smiled and drew out a little slip of paper like a moth-wing, then passed it to Nidhogg. "An address—same old place you lived before. I’ve warned the owner. Take your kids over."

"Not her kids," Lilith protested, eyes flaring like lanterns. Abaddon was a stray picked up outside, fine—but Litt called her mom; how did they become Nidhogg’s? She refused, stiff as a cattail.

Nidhogg said nothing; she shot Ayla a look like a flat stone skipping once. The elf pulled a goofy face, then skipped the topic with Nidhogg’s silent nod, the moment drifting like smoke.

Lilith drew a tiny question mark with her tail, a hook in the air; why had these two gone quiet?

"Ah, forget it; not easy to talk with little ones here," Ayla sighed, her hand cutting the air like a fan. "I’ll send you off first. Looks like you came straight to the City Lord’s manor after reaching Morris. Riding a magic-car is tiring. Take the small fry to rest. When you’ve time, we’ll catch up properly."

"I doubt that time will come." Nidhogg grinned, foxish, her eyes sliding to the mountain of files before Ayla like snow piled high. "By the time you finish Lamter’s paperwork, the Vampires will have rebuilt Spuiset."

"It’s not like I’ve got free time." Ayla snapped, blush flushing the elf’s pointed ears till they looked ready to drip red. "As City Lord, I’m swamped—no such thing as a day with all work done. But if you’ve time, I’ve time to chat," she said, warmth like tea in winter.

"Is slacking off okay for a City Lord?" Lilith tilted her head, tail swaying like grass in wind, curious.

"It’s fine, it’s fine," Ayla waved it off like rising smoke. "As long as I finish before the deadline, my secretary won’t gank me. Her deadlines are roomy, which buys me a lot of time to goof off."

"Then why…" Lilith pointed to the heavy dark circles hanging under Ayla’s eyes like bruised moons; the golden-haired elf didn’t look rested. "Seems you haven’t slept well for a while."

"Because I just hit the last wave of deadlines before you came," Ayla said, words trailing like exhausted smoke. "I pulled several all-nighters to catch up; I’m dead tired." She opened wide and let out a huge yawn, a cavern echoing.

"Start earlier and you wouldn’t suffer." Nidhogg stood aside, arms folded like closed wings, gloating. "You always sprint before the deadline. Miss it, and you get hauled in and chewed out."

"Mind your own." Ayla shot Nidhogg a glare like a thrown dagger, then spoke as if it were law, a seal pressed in wax. "If everyone finished before the deadline, what meaning would a deadline have!"

"So I’m not procrastinating; I’m saving the fate of every deadline," Ayla said, pride rising like a banner in wind. "Without me, deadlines would be forgotten by the world."

"Sure, sure." Nidhogg was speechless, and Lilith at her side had no words, silence pooling like still water.

In the end, Nidhogg chose to let the topic drift like a leaf downriver.

"I’ll take these little ones to the lodging first; they’re tired and need a chance to rest." Nidhogg lifted sleepy Litt and already-dozing Abaddon, one on each arm like warm bundles. "We’re off. Keep wrestling your deadlines."

"Go on, go on." Ayla waved, her hand fluttering like a leaf. "Remember to have fun."

Two maids appeared at the doorway like twin shadows, and Lilith knew Ayla was sending them off, goodwill like a lamp at dusk.

Lilith slung Litt onto her back, and Nidhogg tucked Abaddon under her arm; the four of them would descend the Holy Mountain the same way they had climbed, footsteps stringing like beads.

This time she didn’t need that odd mask; she only had to wrap the little fragment cradled in her arms like a sleeping star.

Ayla’s two maids escorted them far, parting only when Lilith neared the sea of echo-flowers, blue waves murmuring in petals.

"About Ayla, don’t find it too odd," Nidhogg said to Lilith, gaze steady like a night lamp. "She’s serious on business, but once she relaxes, she lets go completely. I know her well, so she talks that way."

"Oh, oh." Lilith nodded, her chin bobbing like a pecking sparrow. "I thought she had a split personality."

The Little White Dragon blurted it out, then felt it rude; she covered her mouth and swallowed the words like a pebble dropping in a pond.

"It’s fine—she does." Nidhogg comforted her, leaving Lilith a smile like a crescent moon, then stepping into that blue sea of flowers.