At Hero's Bay

Night Omen

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𓄹 𝐘/𝐍 𓄼

Y/N peers deep into the fog ahead of her, empty and void of her siblings who had already up and gone after the game had started. What lies ahead unseen provides Y/N some incentive to remain cautious and low. She's a long way from the Echealion palace now, going deeper into the woods and sniffing at the damp air.

Y/N was not significantly talented in navigation, as she was more used to map out the stars and outer realms than trees and greenery. The fog acts as her guide, however, as Y/N can feel every shift and vibration that elicits within the heavy moisture. Y/N almost feels vulnerable, had it not been for her training sword that doesn't at all feel like a proper weapon.

Yven, Y/N thinks as she evaluates the misty barren—finding her presence lingering somewhat close by. They were all starting to become a challenge the older they got, but no way was Y/N giving up her winning streak for the sake of some misplaced suspicion. Y/N's footwork takes her eastbound where the fog is explicitly heavier, where even she has a hard time trying to discern her environment that grows undeniably colder.

Finding no other option than how to navigate through the thick misty veil, Y/N begins to consistently twirl her weapon. With her power, the tip of the dull-steel point collects any and all of the surrounding fog around Y/N, keeping the white vortex at bay as it spherically condensates. Y/N moves through the forest freely now, where the liquid dissipates and soaks the ground below. She's not uncreative in her tactics, but she still decides to play fair.

Reaching a particularly barren patch of the forest, Y/N narrows in the direction of two trees intertwined by their chipping trucks. An omen, Y/N notes cautiously, running her hand along with the bark that partially crumbled beneath her palm. Unlike the other various omens that could be found on Amis, this one—Halves Coil—should be interpreted with caution.

Although Y/N could never specifically recall what it had meant, all she could remember was that it was one of the signs of death. Recounting what she could of her father's lectures, the Halves Coil represented some kind of twist between two souls—where an impending change could threaten or change them. Something like that, Y/N thinks dejectedly as she presses onwards, not really wanting to know what could happen to her.

Like most children, Y/N would have much rather practiced sword-fighting or exploring the mysteries of her planet than focus on her studies. Even as a half-blood without many birthrights, Y/N was a bright and spirited youth at heart. But now that she was older, she was beginning to wonder if that's how she was born or how she was raised.

Y/N stops in her tracks as she feels a faint vibration eliciting around her, beginning to tighten the grip on her dull sword. Veering her head in every which way, Y/N tries to discern where the presence might be—only to be met with another veil of fog slowly seeping throughout the forest. It was notably heavier than the last wave, Y/N observed, finding it harder to make out her surroundings.

Before Y/N is able to manipulate what she can of her environment, however, she could feel her own exhausted breath weigh against her. Her heaving chest becomes almost unbearably tight, and her heart pounds behind the prison of her ribcage. What—what is happening?

The wind, she feels, tries to steady the pace of her breathing. While it does somewhat work, Y/N staggers and leans against a nearby tree for support. She had depended on the fog for too long, Y/N realizes, using more than what she needed to of her abilities that undeniably weakened and overwhelmed her.