Morningstar

[CH. 0040] - The First

Nord squinted at the notebook in her hands, each page a kaleidoscope of symbols and shapes that felt foreign yet intriguing. "This is it, huh? Everything?"

Baal, leaning on the wall of Nord's room, looked distant for a moment. "As far as my mind can stretch, yeah. Can't think of anything else you'd need."

With a careful thumb, she flipped through the pages as if afraid the ink might leap up and stain her. "It's a lot, isn't it? What do I do, carry this spellbook around like some wannabe wizard?"

Eyes leaving the schematics, Baal observed her swap the mundane uniform for a frilly pink dress. "You won't have to lug around the book. I'm thinking of turning these into physical items like keys —say, attached to a necklace or a bracelet."

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "You expect me to keep track of more things? Seriously?"

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Well, Morningstar, nobody said destroying the Hollow was convenient."

Setting the notebook down, Nord's face hardened. "Listen, Baal, whatever this is, it needs to be foolproof. It has to stay with me, rain or shine. You won't be there to help me. I'll be on my own."

His gaze trailed down to her boots, worn but sturdy. "Those boots. You love 'em, right? Why not integrate the keys into them?"

Nord's eyes dropped to her feet, her boots suddenly at the centre of a very personal universe. "Hey, what's wrong with my boots? They're practical! And they feel like a 'Don't mess with me' sign. Kinda like a certain demon, I know," she smirked and added, "Don't touch my boots!"

His laughter was warm, his eyes bright with something more than just intellectual curiosity. "That's the point. They're a part of you. Marrying them to the keys ensures you're always prepared."

"Dude, you're not laying a finger on my boots," Nord interjected, halting his enthusiasm. "We need another plan." She picked up a gloss lipstick and rolled it open.

His eyes flickered with confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting ready," she said, applying a coat of deep shimmer to her lips.

"Ready? For what?"

"I have a date."

His eyes widened. "A date?"

She capped the lipstick, looking at him through the mirror. "Yes, Baal. Like a date-date. A movie and maybe popcorn and grown-up stuff."

He frowned. "Why are you wearing that dress? You look like a marshmallow cupcake!"

Indignant, she retorted, "What's wrong with how I look? Not up to your demon standards of beauty? I'm not good enough?"

He bit his lower lip, holding back words he'd regret. "You're drowning in pink. I can barely see you in there. It's not Morningstar."

"Maybe I just want to be Nord tonight!" She snapped the eyeliner shut. "Well, I think I look cute. And if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. I'm already nervous."

Their eyes met in the mirror. A thousand unsaid words hovered in the air, each waiting for the right moment to land.

Nord hugged her knees to her chest as she sat on the cinema steps, the illuminated screen of her phone showing an unread message, "Where are you?" The movie had been playing for fifteen minutes now, but her date was nowhere to be found.