Nujah-The Goddess Child

In the shadowed depths of the Dark Side—where no light reached and monsters murmured in the corners—

Liora Anvesh entered wearing a cloak and a mask.

She stepped up to the bar and ordered another drink.

A monster shaped like a giant owl refreshed her glass without a word.

As Liora reached into her cloak to offer payment, a smooth voice interrupted:

> "No need."

The voice came from her right.

She turned her head—

and there he was.

A smiling face under a deep hood.

Warm eyes, calm presence, and unmistakable authority:

Nujah.

Her posture stiffened immediately.

Still trying not to react, she began to rise from her seat.

But before she could get away, Nujah placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and pressed her back down with ease.

Still smiling:

> "Leaving already, princess? You just got here."

Liora's voice caught in her throat.

> "S-Sir..." she stammered, extremely uneasy.

Before she could say more, Nujah continued:

> "Soldiers drinking isn't a problem."

"But entering the Dark Side without clearance—"

"especially for something as small as alcohol..."

"You do know the punishment for that, don't you?"

He slowly let his blade rest on the table between them—

just close enough to be felt.

Liora shut her eyes tightly, bracing herself.

Silence.

Then—Nujah laughed gently.

> "Relax. I'm not that much of a stickler for rules."

"I'm not Herinhard or Vercurius. I'm not going to kill you."

"But you should know what would've happened if someone else had caught you."

Nujah summoned a paper made of light —

it formed in his hand as he turned his head and began to read.

---

📜

Liora Anves

Arrived 5 years ago.

Promoted to Lightward within 2 years.

Resigned after 4 years of active service.

---

Nujah's tone softened but remained serious.

> "May I ask why you left?"

Liora hesitated, then shrugged.

> "No real reason, sir.

Call it laziness. Burnout, maybe."

Nujah nodded slowly.

> "And yet… you still manage to pay for everything you eat and drink every day."

Liora said nothing.

He sighed—long and quiet.

She didn't seem ashamed of what she'd done.

That bothered him more than anything.

Then his voice grew firm:

> "You have one week."

"One week to pack up everything you have in the Dark Zone."

"Tie off every loose end, end whatever… questionable jobs you've been doing."

"Then, you're returning to the military."

> "And if the reason wasn't laziness but fear—

don't worry. We'll find you a different role."

He stood up.

> "I'll see you at the front gate. Noon sharp."

Liora didn't look thrilled—

but she accepted it.

> "I'll be there within the week, sir."

Nujah smiled slightly.

> "Good."

He placed ten silver coins on the table beside her.

Then turned, heading toward the exit.

Just as he reached the door, he stumbled briefly—

nearly falling to one knee.

But he caught himself.

> One more name remained on the list.

And he could only hope—

> Thirel Mosven

wouldn't be as broken as Liora.

He left the bar behind

and stepped out of the darkness,

headed toward the archery training grounds.