Sylfir leaves the Weary Wanderer after resting a while and washing away the dust and sweat from her earlier toils. The summer night is reasonably warm, so she leaves her leather armour behind in her room, wearing only her ivy-green undershirt and her brown leather trousers and boots. She also leaves any weapons, instead arming herself with her lyre, as Khaliss requested.

The village is a lot quieter at this time of night, with most people sleeping in their homes or wherever they've chosen to lay their heads for the night, save for a few people who are returning home from a long day's work. The sky above is thick with stars that pale in comparison to the moon, a sharp crescent of bright silver tailed by the shimmering Tears of Selûne. Sylfir uses their light to guide her through the village until she reaches the edge. It is there that she spies Khaliss in the same place where they first met. She presides over the small shrine she's created to honour her goddess, though it is now filled with the fruits of Sylfir's labour. She, too, has abandoned her armour, wearing a billowy grey-white blouse that rustles in the gentle wind and black leather trousers. Instead of her longsword, she arms herself with her flute, which sits close to the shrine.

Khaliss turns her head when she hears Sylfir's footsteps, greeting her with a smile. "You have impeccable timing. I have just now finished making preparations for the ritual."

Sylfir looks at the shrine, complete with the boar's carcass and the crystals and other treasures she foraged for in the forest. She watches as wisps of smoke rise from the single stick of incense that burns at the shrine's edge. "How did you make the incense so quickly?"

"This is the last of the incense that remains to me—no more than half a stick," Khaliss says, "I would usually use more for such a ritual, but we have not the time to make more if we wish to see the wards raised by sunrise. I will try to perform the ritual, and if it fails, then we have no choice but to make more incense and try at a later date."

"Let's hope Eilistraee is as gracious as I've heard, then."

Khaliss nods, turning back to face the shrine. She raises her arms from the elbows, her palms turned to the sky as she mutters, before bringing her hands to her heart and bowing her head. When she turns back to Sylfir, her eyes focus on the modest lyre in her hands.

"I see that your lyre has seen some use. That is well, for I have sore need of it tonight. I would have you play for me—something gentle with a serene melody, but with rhythm."

"I have a few songs in mind... but they're not in common, and I can tell you for a certainty that none of them are in drowic."

Khaliss shakes her head. "Worship of the Dark Maiden is not governed by strict rules. She permits us to venerate her as we see fit. All that matters is you play with heart."

"All right..." Sylfir brings her fingers to the strings of her lyre, but she hesitates to play.

As if she senses her nervousness, Khaliss turns away again, focusing on the shrine. With the weight of her gaze removed, Sylfir feels able to play.

She strums a simple melody, growing in confidence with each note she plays.

https://youtu.be/ARt3_yp2cW8

"Perfect," Khaliss whispers.

That single word buoys Sylfir and keeps her playing. Khaliss unties the lace at the neck of her blouse, then untucks it from the waist of her trousers to pull it over her head in one fluid motion. She lets it fall before the tall grass of the meadow, then toes the heels of her boots and steps out of them so she can take her trousers off. Soon she stands in naught but her smallclothes.

With nimble fingers, she lets her hair fall from her ponytail to brush her upper thigh, flowing from her head like liquid silver, or threads of starlight like the ones that weave through the celestial dome above, and she raises her hands to the sky. Sylfir can't help but admire the way the planes of her muscles shift under the starlight—the sheer grace of every motion she performs with a body forged in the heat of battle, skin scarred from conflict but still bearing immeasurably beauty, just like the goddess she honours tonight.

Sylfir begins to sing, at once haunting and inviting, her rhythm guiding Khaliss' footsteps as she dances. Every motion gives the impression of moving water, a gently winding river like the one that cuts through the hills surrounding the village, and her hair flies around her like so many silver ribbons. She is completely enraptured by her dance, moving like no one is watching, like a lone forest spirit born of moonlight. The sight encourages Sylfir to keep singing, her heart welling with the emotion of her song.

In mere moments, she feels the telltale thrum of magic, but there's something else there, too. She could almost mistake it for something divine.

Khaliss raises her hands and speaks—no, sings—but not in a language Sylfir truly recognises, though it sounds oddly familiar. She assumes it to be drowic. The divine presence strengthens as Khaliss reaches out to it, and so, too, does the magic encompassing the village. Perhaps, despite the eerie quietude of the gods in recent times, Eilistraee has heard their call.

Sylfir feels it more than sees it—the ripple of magic, the fabric of the weave given as a gift from a goddess to her supplicant as Khaliss builds the ward with nimble fingers and soft-spoken words. It's weak, but it grows stronger with each passing second.

Khaliss dances again, and Sylfir lets the song stretch on as the ritual continues. With each motion Khaliss makes—with each flourish of her hand and the pointing of her toes—the ward strengthens. She keeps muttering in a quiet voice, barely loud enough to be heard over Sylfir's gentle singing. In this ritual, the act of singing almost brings Sylfir into a meditative state—or perhaps it is the fluid, almost hypnotic motions of the drow before her—but she feels a sense of peace wash over her. It is akin to the kind she would feel when she took long sojourns into unexplored regions of her home where she could focus on becoming one with nature. Thoughts of the beast couldn't be further from her mind at this moment, even though it is the sole cause of this elaborate plea to Eilistraee.

Time holds no meaning in moments like this, yet they end all the same. The strength of the ward plateaus and Khaliss slows her steps until she comes to a halt.

Sylfir ends her song.

Khaliss turns to her, visibly at peace and standing before her without a hint of shame, despite her near-nakedness.

"Your voice is a gift, child. I am glad that you saw fit to lend it to me."

"I've never seen someone dance with such grace before," Sylfir says, her voice quieted by lingering serenity.

"Then this is the first time you have seen a cleric of the Dark Maiden venerate her goddess, for we all possess such grace until she invites us to her halls."

"It was a privilege."

"And one you may soon experience once more. I must focus on giving true form to the ward before I beg another boon of Eilistraee. Once I am done, we will continue the ritual until we can ensure the defence of the village."

"Of course," Sylfir says.

Khaliss turns her attention to the shrine again, kneeling to rearrange it with the utmost care. The rich, smoky-sweet incense still burns, though it is dwindling. Sylfir can't be sure it will last the entire night. It seems of no concern to Khaliss, however, as she focuses on her spell, reinforcing the ward with an iron will. Sylfir is almost afraid to move lest she break the cleric's concentration.

Again, Sylfir can feel the ward strengthen, though not by the leaps and bounds it did when she sang and Khaliss danced. It feels more... tangible, however; it almost feels like something she could touch. After a while, Khaliss falls out of focus and hums, rising from her kneeling position and turning to Sylfir again.

"Let the ritual continue," she says.

Sylfir nods, then brings her fingers to her lyre's strings again and strums the first notes of her song.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Here are the links to Sylfir and Khaliss' spotify playlists to give you an idea of the kind of music they play:

Sylfir: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2yLTQVhb0EHbdWSnwDBX1q?si=53ed1937fe1a4d7c

Khaliss: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1DIAwaG9jcirPsGowe5iX0?si=7eaac0f9d97e499f