Work Text:
Valen Mire valued the vast, verdant view from Vesper Valley’s overlook. The valley vibrated with a soft, velvety hum, wind brushing violets, vines swaying in vague patterns that looked almost like a visitor’s wave. He visited often, venturing from the village below for a variety of reasons: ventilation for his crowded thoughts, vantage for visible stars, and the vague hope of verifying the strange visions he sometimes sensed around the valley’s edge.
Vada Fenn arrived with her usual verve, vaulting over a fallen log as though gravity were merely a vague suggestion. “Valen, you vanished from the festival,” she said, voice vibrant with concern. “There’s a rumor you’ve been brooding over vortex sightings again.”
Valen’s brow lifted. “They’re not rumors. There’s verifiable variance in the valley’s atmosphere tonight.”
Vada crossed her arms. “Variance? Or your vivid imagination?”
“Vada…” He gestured toward the valley floor. “Watch.”
A veil of violet vapor rose, swirling in viscous ribbons. It vibrated like a violin string plucked by invisible fingers, creating a vibration that made the very ground tremble.
Vada’s voice dropped. “Void take me, what is that?”
“A volatile visitation,” Valen murmured. “It started last night. I’ve viewed it twice now.”
They ventured closer, stepping into the vines that curled like vigilant sentinels. The vapor thickened, then split into vertical beams, each one casting a variant glow, vermillion, viridian, volcanic red. The air crackled, sharp as vintage vinyl under a needle.
“Valen,” Vada whispered, “we should vacate immediately.”
But Valen felt a pull—a visceral vibration in his chest, as if the valley itself were calling him by some vow he’d never voiced aloud.
A voice, velvety and vast, vibrated through the vapor.
“Vessel.”
Valen stiffened. “Did you hear that?”
Vada nodded vigorously. “Yes, and I vote we vacate now!”
Before she could drag him away, the vapor condensed, forming a vague but visible figure, vaporous limbs, vacant face, veering slightly with every breeze. It reached toward Valen, not violent but undeniably intentional.
“Valen!” Vada’s hand closed over his wrist, her grip vice-tight. “You’re not volunteering yourself to a vapor ghost!”
He laughed weakly. “I wasn’t planning to.”
The figure paused, its shape vibrating with a soft, vulnerable flicker, almost like it feared its own vanishing.
Valen stepped forward—but only by a fraction. “What do you want?”
The figure’s voice unfurled again:
“Vessel… visible… verify…”
The vapor dimmed, then dispersed violently, vanishing into nothing more than a faint veil drifting over the valley.
Silence. Then Vada exhaled the breath she’d visibly been holding.
“You,” she said, “are never visiting this valley alone again.”
Valen nodded, though his gaze never left the valley. “Fair. But Vada… whatever that was, it wasn’t malicious. It was vulnerable. Maybe even… asking.”
Vada groaned. “Fantastic. A vulnerable vapor ghost. Valen, you attract very vexing things.”
He smiled. “Maybe. But sometimes, the valley reveals what we most need to see.”
---
END.