Legend of Ransera

She moved and the shadow curled itself around her body, fusing like a second skin where it touched hers, and only the ends of her curls were visible beyond the veil of its darkened hood, red ringlets tipped with gold.

“Come, let us make haste.”

Yeva pushed out from the promise of the hall and then stopped a few feet from the door, her guardians beside her, before she hesitated and peeked back into the quiet room, at all the fearful faces that had yet to move, “Thank you for everything,” she offered once more, solemn and polite, although many of the gifts still sat in a pile where she had once been the guest of honor. A few bone necklaces were still hanging beneath the cloak and unfamiliar flowers tucked into her hair, “I will return with answers. My name is Yeva,” a reminder to them, as the first time her name had been spoken had been filled with tension, when a spear had still been pressed against her throat. She tried to smile, to give some sort of hopeful promise, but beneath the hood, the beauty of her face was unseen, “Do not forget me.”

A small nod, and then she was gone again, hurrying across the bridge and down the winding path that had held a procession in her honor less than an hour before. Her small feet fluttered across the walkway, barely touching earth before soaring her forward. Towards the beginning of the end.

“Wait!”

An urgency in Vuka’s voice shocked her and she immediately ceased her journey, turning to look at the Seer. Vuka was calm, poised, but there was a tragedy to her words.

"I'm sorry, it was so much to take in. There's so much... loneliness here? Did either of you feel that? I almost thought I would lose myself there for a moment."

Yeva faltered. Had she felt the loneliness? She had been so distracted, so absorbed in her own path. She swallowed, chewing her bottom lip while her eyes admitted the truth. She had felt little more than loneliness in so long, it had all woven together. Could she distinguish one agony from another now, or was she growing numb in some way? Her fingers brushed the smooth metal of the sword that hung from her hip.

“Are you alright?”

Even as she spoke, the hood was guiding her attention, subtly pulling away from Vuka, towards the direction they still needed to travel, “They said it had been many generations since…” Since when? She was speaking softly now, thoughts spoken aloud, “They must have been alone for so long.”

The prophecy.

Any further speech died in her throat. Voices weighed upon her, so many voices. They rose like a wave, growing in power.

"Please, help her, she's in pain."

“She’s in pain?” Yeva turned away from her companions, back to the path. She looked into the middle distance, eyes darting, “Vich'uvi?”

"If she falls, the Vale will fall." “What do you mean?” Yeva wasn’t sure of her own words, but she said them anyway, as if trying to comfort another, “She-"

"The Fatebreaker will save her." “I am trying-”

The voices believed in her. Some mourned, “Don’t cry…. I… slow down, I can’t hear you.” Yeva wandered once more trancelike, less sure than before until they were back in the endless darkness of the Vale, tucked into the wings of shadows, and the voices were all around them. Some cried, others celebrated. Who was she to listen to? Who was she to trust?

She stood, suspended in the dusk, listening to the thousands that spoke to her, that spoke about her, to voices that warned and wished.

One step and then another, until thunder cracked and she stood beneath the heavy rain, dazed as fat raindrops soaked her through. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, as if she had been dreaming too long, and looked around, as if waking in an unfamiliar place. They were back under the canopy, and lightening shattered the air above. Energy crackled and Yeva could taste it on her tongue. The Chieftan was looking at her, seperating her weapon into two, as she offered appraisal to the strange shadow that clung to her.

Her shadow?

Yeva knew out of many Chieftain's, it was Boraba that believed mostly in the old ways. Yet, here she was. Here they both were. While Yeva came back to herself, a sense of thankfulness warmed her heart, but it was darkened.

“My star?”

Her words since leaving the goblins had been distant, her actions, less predictable. Yeva had been a vessel on this journey, speaking to people seen, and unseen, the veil of reality becoming opaque. This, however, was direct. She looked directly at the Chieftain, clear and bright-eyed, “My star?”

Yeva knew out of many Chieftain's, it was Boraba that believed mostly in the old ways. Yet, here she was. Here they all were. She had not sought to get upset, but she felt felt a deep wound, taking offense at the idea that one path was more worthy than another. Whether intended or not, Yeva had always admired Boraba’s strength and achievement for her age, but were they not of similar youth? Yeva was not a warrior, but she carried the weight of many, now and forgotten, and more responsibility now than she could have ever fathomed when she took the goddess’s hand to walk through the door. There was even expectation hidden from her. She carried more than just the Ounokt Nora. She navigated the fate of the world.

“It is not my star. Galetira plucked it from the sea, and formed it!... How... how could you say that?”

The pressure was beginning to strain her resolve, she felt her strength cracking. Her patience.

This duty was asked by the goddess. Galetira was the one who tasked them to wait for her in the plains, was she not? Yeva laughed, but it came out dry and bitter, washed out by the rain. Orcs would not even claim ownership of land or sea, and yet a star, a problematic recourse of a cruel fate, filled with complexity and problems and demands, that... that was hers. How lovely. Such an honor, a burden, that was her dowry, her birthright.

Yeva turned away, shaking her head. Trying to rid herself of these angry imposter thoughts. She told herself that Boraba did not mean offense, that it was not meant to be a slight.

It hurt nonetheless.

"I have done everything right! I have always been kind. I have been openminded. I have been forgiving. I follow the signs. I ask for nothing in return. Why....! Why....!" she felt herself choke up, fold in on herself, Why is this happening to me? I did not wish to be lost! That star is the only way I will ever walk Ransera again!”

The little girl always overlooked, always just middle of the pack, never outstanding, never noticed ...was now unmistakably important. It was only recently, starting with her friendship in Franky and blooming in Norani, had she ever been told to expect worth, told she was beautiful. Wise. Brave. Bright, blazing, and warm.

" Please.. hold on. You are strong, Yeva Bleu. Fight for everything you have. Fight with everything you hold dear."

Yeva sighed against her anger, releasing it to a simmering sorrow, "I'm sorry," she whispered to the others, ashamed at her outburst, "I feel so tired... I know." She was whining, she wasn't being a leader, or a savior, or whatever it was the voices echoed or the fates predicted, , "Everyone's counting on me." This she said softly, to herself, before waving the others closer. More than anything, she wished to fall into their arms, to be folded into a hug, like they might have given her when she still walked the land.

"Thank you for being here... Thank you for... everything."

And then, after waiting a moment for the feelings to pass and any conversation needed, Yeva led them.

Into unknown, uncharted depths, where secrets and shadows watched... and waited.

Boraba listened as Yeva's resolve frayed, not impassively or stoic as might be expected, but she listened in the same way that Norani would listen to Yeva. Her focus was intense and enraptured, Boraba's own emotions an open book upon her face for one such as Yeva who had come to know these people. Empathy was there.

Boraba stepped close as Yeva began apologizing, tucking her chakrams on her belt for a moment, freeing her hands. One step closer still, she brought her large hands up to Yeva's cheeks, gently cradling her face as her deep brown eyes stared on.

"I know. I know all too well. This path of yours is cruel, the most difficult thing you've ever done, and it just constantly keeps taking and taking and taking."

She closed her eyes, dropping her hands to Yeva's shoulders. "Some days I wonder if this land we care for is cursed or if it is simply a curse we swallow ourselves."

She pulled Yeva in for a quick embrace, rock hard muscle and a caring touch, a whisper in her ear given, "We mustn't forget that we are never alone in these impossible quests."

She stepped back from Yeva, and fell quietly in line as Yeva thanked them and led the way deeper into these monstrous and dark jungles. The shadow cloak seemed to function like a dowsing rod, pointing in the right direction, but still that led to many difficulties. Multiple times they had to double back around a small ridge or rise that they couldn't climb past in this rain.

Once Boraba stopped them, having sensed something ahead, and they skirted past a resting family of strange creatures. Their skin was ashen grey and was gaunt, dessicated, tight across their long, humanoid skeletons. They were covered in open sores and festerings, and smelled of rotting corpses.

As they crested another small, rocky ridge, the lightning flashed and the thunder cracked, and Boraba and Vuka both froze, dropping into defensive postures. There, over the wind, was a loud, screaming hiss, one that every adult native of Ounokt Nora and her sister village new all too well.

Light flashed again, but no thunder accompanied it. The forest was dark once more as the crack came once more, followed by a flash of light again, illuminating some motion in the distance, obscured by a large tree. The rain had stopped a few minutes back, and it seemed the light and booms were not lightning and thunder.

"We've found her."

As the group approached, quietly and cautiously, to get a better view, an unbelievable scene unfolded. There was the star, a large shining orb roughly as tall as Yeva, iridescent, and would occasionally pulse a flash of light out. As it did, it revealed a scaled body as thick as these impossibly large trees, black as shadow, shining and matte depending on how you looked at it.

Vich'uvi.

Her body was coiled defensively, loosely, and she was hissing at the star, striking at it between pulses of light and recoiling as they came. A closer look would show that her scales closest to the star seemed to be burned, flaking away and revealing raw and pained flesh beneath.

Boraba sneered, but had given Fatebreaker her word. She would act only upon Yeva's orders. Vuka was trembling as she held her spear, and every time Vich'uvi hissed, she nearly dropped it.

T I T I M E L E S S

“Some days I wonder if this land is cursed, or if it simply a curse we swallow ourselves.”

Yeva stood in silence, leaning into the hands that pressed upon her shoulders and grounded her. Boraba’s voice was gentle, parental, even. She was a good Chieftan. Little by little, each word stirred her thoughts to present things, and her breathing soothed her. Like a skittish doe who smelled blood on the air, the breeze changed and its scent was temporarily forgotten. Yeva calmed and she lowered her eyes, remaining in the warm embrace.

In the blade of the chakrams at the orc’s waist, Yeva could see the glinting light of her own damp eyes looking back at her and felt a shock at her own appearance. A discomfort. She knew very well what she looked like, having essentially witnessed her own memory as another might have not long before, but this reflection was more than that. It was different.

Her red hair was long, trampled flat by the heavy rains, and her skin was tanned, yet without the warm tinge of blush that had plagued her since girlhood. Her eyes were damp from budding tears, but golden, molten honey, and just beneath, a smooth and tiny crescent scar sat high on her cheekbones where the tip of a blade had once been teased. It cradled her freckles like a cluster of grapes spilling from a bowl. No - What struck her was her demeanor.

There was no sign of the real fatigue she felt, the tired weight in her bones. The gnawing emptiness. Only a maturity that had not been there before, a somber wisdom. A secret thing just beneath the surface. She could not place it, but it was there. It was her.

It was like a stranger.

And then there was one. A face that slipped beside her own to look at her. Suddenly Boroba’s hand against her back were not the Chieftan’s, but its, and she felt it push against her, felt its breath along her neck, its cheek against hers like an old friend.
or lover, eyes bright and hungry. If pressed, Yeva would not be able to recall the memory of the features. Only that it smiled, an unnatural smile, and that when Boraba pulled back at that moment, the reflection distorted and the words of advice echoed like a bell in her chest.

We mustn't forget that we are never alone in these impossible quests

It was as if an arrow had pierced her, and Yeva stumbled backwards, clutching her chest and then winced at the sharp pain in her still injured palms. Her wounds throbbed, sending pulses of electric agony to her fingers and up her wrists. A buzz tickled her elbows. With these sensations, her vision faltered, blinking in and out like its memory, and this time it was Vuka who reached for her. Yeva breathed sharply through both nose and mouth, willing her body to obey. She was losing control.

Did she ever have it to begin with?

Control.

Laughter echoed somewhere deep inside her mind, and she shook her head in jerky motions, as if she could knock the intrusion out, like swatting over a glass of milk.

“What did you see?”

Nothing.

She thought to lie, to avoid the help offered, to deny. Her impulse to pull away nearly won, and the hazy fog of her vision cleared. Now, everything was too bright. This dark and stormy place was too… too… Too much. Yeva was not a liar.

Small elven footsteps circled round and round the mud as she paced, each imprint eating the tail of the other. She continued to jerk her head. Thunder cracked, the world boomed.

“Yeva-“

The cloak tried to guide her attention, and while she could see again, how she paced and jumped just out of touch, wrapping between the trees and stepping over roots, and into brambles, could see the concerned look they shared, unspoken something, she could not stop this possessed dance. They tried again, this time cutting her off before she could go off alone.

“Yeva-“

“I’m fine!”

The ferocity of her voice surprised them all, and the wind hissed in joined chorus. Hadn’t she been on the verge of breaking? Crying? Bleeding? At once her feet stopped and she felt herself fully again, no laughter lingered inside her. There was a satisfaction, but an unsure silence between them. Yeva inhaled, finally allowing herself to follow the cloak’s direction, hesitating only a moment, “I saw a smile,” she admitted at last, ignoring the expressions they wore. “I don’t remember it well.

“A smile? Who was smiling? Did you see their face?”

“I don’t know. It is difficult to remember.”

“Try. Did it look human?” Vuka pressed on, stepping in behind her as they resumed the formation they had used when going towards the village.

The older Seer was only asking details that in her seasoned skill, might provide insight to the matter. Yeva’s behavior had been strange, uncontrolled. Dangerous things lived and thrived in the Sea. Even still, the questions annoyed her, “I don’t know.”

“Did it speak?”

“Do not question me about it again! I do not know!” Yeva nearly spun on the Seer, struggling to wrestle with her voice. They all needed to be quiet soon, but this was not an easy journey, for any of them. On more than one occasion, Yeva had lost control of herself. Things thought impossible unfolded before her will. An ancient and forgotten civilization hailed her as some sort of holy prophet, and now she had begun to see things against all logic. They were beyond that now. Her body resisted, and as a result, she lost more control than she gained. Now they marched towards what was likely certain death.

How could she become a savior if she could hardly predict her next step?

Guilt pressed upon her for yelling again, and she bowed her head. A silence passed between them as they made their way deeper into the forgotten land. It was a tedious journey, full of backtracking and challenging terrain. They climbed steep, rocky banks lined with thick brush, and the slick angular stones protruded like broken bones from the black earth, threatened danger should any of them misstep.

Yeva was out of breath when they reached the next ridge. Her hands and feet were coated in mud and she winced at the sharp sting of tiny cuts along her calves and bare feet. She panted, wiping water from her eyes, when Boraba motioned her to still.

Careful.

The smell followed after, the faint rot of a dying animal, tucked beneath bushes. It grew stronger, from unpleasant whiff to a suffocating stench. Yeva had to cover her nose to keep from retching, breathing through her mouth, but even that did not help much. The foul musk thickened, so pungent she could nearly taste it, and then the Seer witnessed its creators.

A group of sleeping creatures - were they sleeping? Could these corpse-like beings be capable of rest? - laid ahead, and as they crept pass, sight of the festering wounds and oozing pustules made her very aware of ever step she made. Every unblemished, healthy, Hytori tip toe. What were those things? Those agonizing monsters that could only be described as something from nightmares?

Even when they were out of sight, Yeva could not resist looking over her shoulder every few feet, afraid somehow they might have awoken those entities. That somehow the figures might be lurking just out of sight, watching them. Hunting them. The elf reached for the women with her, holding onto an arm of each, and felt her fear abate just slightly. She wished for Norani.

None dared to speak.

They traveled like this for the rest of the journey in the wet dark until at last, the sky boomed in a command to halt. That was what Yeva heard,at least, as if she could speak the voice of thunder, but the feeling was soon lost. She blinked in fearful understanding, looking around them more closely, at the darkness, at the light. The shadows pushed and pulled, wavering the world around them. A terrible sound split the air, and the orcs dropped. Yeva jumped, but in her inexperience fumbled, darting back towards cover. It continued. Hissing fury. Pain. Hatred.

Blood pulsed in her ears, sensation to her limbs lessened as adrenaline slithered through her nerves. It was a wonderous, horrifying sight. The majesty and power was unimaginable to the Elf, who had never witnessed something so all consuming and indescribable. An outsider to this land, a woman who had only ever heard of this being in stories and tattoos, would never have been able to fully comprehend the beauty and terror of Vich’uvi. There was not enough skin in the world to explain her. There were not enough murals to prepare witness. This was a god to some, and Yeva understood… yet…

This was the enemy of Ounokt Nora, of Ecith. Perhaps even of Norani. How would her interference hurt them in the days to come? How would it save others? This or that. Back and forth. Light and dark.

The serpent towered over the scene, sleek and resplendent, dark and striking. It danced with the light, a resentful back and forth that agonized the primal, but the star pulsed and glowed, warming the world in brief moments, unfazed. Unbothered. Patient. Waiting. Resilient

Why did Vich’uvi not flee, she wondered. Yeva saw the raw flesh, the peeling scales and steeled herself.

Why did it strike at the astral star? Through all the tales of power, Yeva had also assumed cunning. A creature that was not easily bested, and impossible to catch, to destroy. She had thought it more than any mere animal… yet it attacked with a possession, a desperation resolved to a cornered beast. An animal protecting its young.

No- if this was merely for survival, Vich’uvi would have escaped. This was the sign of something more. This was instinct, of nature. It was beyond her comprehension. Fate spun around her. This was it.

“If I die, I die,” she said, but another hiss and crack of thunder stole her words, shattering them to nothingness.

Without looking at Boraba or Vuka, afraid their faces and the memories tied to them might dissuade her, Yeva crouched, slipping into the shadows to emerge a few moments later near the serpent’s tail. Beyond the enormous wall of scaled flesh, she could see the star pulsing brighter, quicker. It called for her.

Scarcely breathing, Yeva looked for an opening to the star, and between her toes, not unlike how she had pulled the sword from the land, sat one of the broken scales, shimmering like a dark metal. Without thinking she picked it up, lifting it as if she could find the opening on the skin, a slot for this missing puzzle piece. She had to get to the star, but how? She would be seen in the light. Yeva swallowed, closed fingers hovering over the contracting muscles, comparing her find to that before her, living, shifting. Before she knew it, Vich’uvi was moving, coming at the star in a new angle and they touched.

Yeva’s head fell back at once, gasping as visions overwhelmed her. She fell back, convulsing, and it was only when the thunder crackled was she released from its hold, on her back, looking up at the turning head of the ancient power. She could not move, every bit of her body sore, her mind disoriented. She stared at the monster, the god, dully, vaguely aware of her movement. The flickering of the tongue. The opening of its jaws, the pulling back of its neck. The consideration of this intrusion.

The preparation to consume.

She was going to die, so close to the star. So close to the end. After everything.. Yeva was no fate breaker. Her fate was to be broken. She laid in the mud, defenseless, gasping as images lingered in her mind. She could not breathe, she felt frozen. Norani…

Vich’uvi hissed suddenly in offense and she snapped at something unknown. Beyond her vision, Vuka and Boraba acted with their spears and chakram. The whistle of something whirling, sharp and metallic cut through the air. This distraction was enough to cause the serpent to turn its attention while Yeva rolled over, crying out as she did so. She moved as someone else now, for someone else, clawing her way up, stepping, falling to her knees again. With a great heave, she pulled herself over Vich’uvi’s girth, just beyond, where she collapsed before her rite.

Wait for me.

Whatever effect touching the serpent had done to her body and mind… she would not give up. Not until she was gone and buried and forgotten.

The brilliance of the star burned her cold, wet flesh, it burned her eyes. She could not bear to witness its glory, seeing glimpses of lifetimes within its shining depths.

With a new strength, Vich’uvi’s scale in one hand, the sword at her waist, and with an open palm, Yeva took her last breath and touched the growing light.

The moment Yeva's hand touched the star, the world around her disappeared. Or rather, she disappeared from it. Vich'uvi was still there, as were Boraba and Vuka, but Yeva was gone, and the world around them went dark. In the comfort of its element, Vich'uvi disappeared from sight, a sneer growing on Boraba's face as she shut her eyes. She knew the beast was still, watching, waiting, recovering.

As for Yeva, she would find herself in the exact same spot she had been standing, but the forest was no longer dark. Light streamed through the canopy above, and she could see stones, moss, vines and creatures. Birds were singing, insects were crawling, the air smelt humid and fresh. And Yeva would feel something about her was changed, fundamentally altered. If she managed to look down, she'd see the ghostly image of a large eye, both hyper realistic but also reminiscent of what one might see on the back of a deck of tarot looking back at her. It hovered slightly over her clothing, but she would know, and know with absolute certainty, that it existed there upon her flesh, occupying the center of her chest.

The Mark of the Seer, the Emblem of Foresight, the Gift of Galetira.

In one hand, a shortsword, by Ecithian standards though perhaps a longsword for Yeva, complete, pristine and resplendent in its etchings, not an ounce of rust nor any luster lost. In the other hand, the perfectly black scale, and upon her shoulders, the cloak of shadows remained. There was a warmth emanating from the scale she held as the sound of rumbling approached. From between the massive trees in the distance, warriors began to appear, singing and chanting loudly. All Orkhan.

And at their lead, one Orkhan stood two heads taller than them all, twice as broad, his skin dark and earthen, necklaces of fang and tooth hanging over his chest, a sword taller than Yeva upon his back. In one hand, the severed head of a straightened red haired woman with pointed ears, blood still dripping from her neck. Upon his face, the smug look of a victorious leader. As they marched toward Yeva, the scale grew warmer and would drag her eyes toward something else.

There, just a bit ahead of her, tucked beneath a bush, was a large, black snake, wrapped around a clutch of eggs, hidden in the shadow. No eyes found Yeva, none heard any movement or words she may have uttered, she went unnoticed by all. And as they marched, the big Orkhan came too close to the mother snake, and she struck out at him. With a stomp, he crushed her skull without even looking at her, and kept on going. One massive foot crushed the nest as well.

The entire army passed, thousands upon thousands of Orkhan, in leathers of ancient and barbaric styling, speaking to each other in the same, older Ecithian tongue that Yeva had heard in the goblin village. And when they were gone, there was little of the snake and her nest to see, trampled by so many feet.

But there, resting just at the base stem of the bush, a single, slightly cracked egg remained, with a drop of blood splashed upon it. The blood seeped in through the crack, and the egg turned black, disappearing from sight, disappearing in the shadows.

With that, Yeva would feel a warmth in her emblem, and a pitch black portal of shadows opened up next to her. The power of the emblem would let her know that she was in a memory, and this was a doorway to another, following this path of Destiny. No longer was she swept from memory to memory without a choice like a ship without a rudder in the rapids of a mighty river. A glance at the portal showed where she had come from, and she could see near perfect darkness, save for streaks of blue lightning that briefly illuminated Boraba and Vich'uvi in combat, striking at one another.

And from this vantage, as the lightning flashed, Yeva would now be able to see a clutch of black eggs hidden in the coils of Vich'uvi, the same coils that had been burned most by the brightness of the star, the same coils that she had not moved one bit. And as she looked, the Emblem would continue to provide her with options of its ability. She could open a door and leave this place, leave this ocean of memories, and return back to the real world. The mortal world. Her world.

All she had to do was will it.

The fight was continuing to rage, each seeking to strike the fatal blow to the other. Lightning arced widely, striking the snake, landing near to the eggs. Fangs came within a hair's breath of catching the chieftain. Vuka was nowhere to be seen. The star was gone. Or rather, it was part of Yeva now, Galetira's parting gift from the attack upon them both. The Seer had many options available, every option available to her. She had what she had been wishing for.

Control.

T I M E L E S S

The sun warmed this place and life flourished.

No storm raged above, and the ground was lush and vibrant with unearthly color. Had she ever seen such beauty? Her head tilted back as she admired the canopy, the darting birds of paradise that flitted towards the safety of their nests. Below, tiny feet tickled her own. Her gaze fell at the green beetle that jaunted across her dirty toes, marching happily on its way, birthing the first smile outside of the goblin village, since Vhexur’s gift, and Norani’s affections. That was when she saw the glowing eye, and understood.

Yeva lifted a hand with a gasp, perhaps to even remove her chest wrap to witness that which she felt on her skin, to see if the imagery that was poised above the fabric was as deeply carved into her skin as it felt. It did not burn or hurt, but she was sure it was there. The star! It had seared itself into what little scraps of soul that remained within her, revitalizing her, grounding her, and at last, the vertigo she had experienced since entering the Astral Sea had ceased all at once, as if it had never been there. Yeva had changed; was changing. It was undeniable now, as part of the natural world as anything else. This sensation. She felt… powerful.

When was the last time she had ever felt such complete efficacy? Did all Seers feel this way?

She was blessed now.

Within her, contained now a drop of divinity, the tiniest pearl, and she inhaled as if for the first time. A babe, preparing for its first cry. She was alive, she had succeeded! Her heart pounded.

The action fell short, now in realization to what she carried. The sword that had been at her waist was in her grasp, as if she always wielded it. It was elegant and slender compared to other Ecithean weapons, with a craftsmanship she had never witnessed in her own timeline. The closest she could recall was the ancient relics carried by Chieftans. Each had its own power, although she had only witnessed one: Boraba’s chakram.

The blade she had pried from the mud was restored.

Without thinking, she swung the weapon through the air. It sung out, the edges of the runes pulsing. She arched the blade once more through the air, but fumbled. Yeva did not know how to use a weapon, and her footwork was imperfect and awkward. As she prepared to try again, she regained her former position, forgetting where she was, or why.

She lifted the weapon as if staring down a competitor, a child playing pretend, tilting her head back and looking down the radiant blade. She imagined the proud warriors battling, how they steeled their gaze. Images of the strength and grace, of back home, when the elves spared one another with exact precision, harnessed through a lifetime of perfectionism.

She imagined her opponent standing before the brush, in the clearing before her, and tightened her grip. The hand holding the large scale tucked behind her back, concealing it like a fencer.

Her game was interrupted. Voices sang out, deep and celebratory in the direction she pointed. Footsteps were close and heavy, and a face began to emerge from the trees as the wilderness hushed. Yeva jolted and darted for cover at once, but she knew her distraction would have resulted in failure in the real world. The orc leading the charge had entered this sanctuary, his smug gaze looking through right her. Yeva shrank back at the sight of him, and crouched near the bushes. He paid her no mind, and with relief, she knew this was like all the memories in the Astral Sea. She was unseen, safe.

The snake in the bushes, was not.

Yeva noticed the creature just as it was prepared to strike. Across the clearing, she spotted an ebony snake with its clutch of eggs. It had remained watchful of her, but now the ground vibrated with movement. A threat had entered the arena.

“No-wait!” she shouted, reflexively, jumping out to try and block the attack. The sickening sound of crunching bones and delicate shell stole her breath, and flecks of blood splattered beneath his feet, Yeva covered her mouth in horror, dropping the sword beside her, falling to her knees. There was only one egg left, shell cracked. How immediate death had been. Mouth dry, she looked up at the leader, who had never stopped whistling in his carnage.

What she saw, just above her eye level, was the severed head of a redhaired woman. It was a clean cut, a kill made by a seasoned master, and Yeva met the woman’s dead eyes, still wide from the attack. Heard and unheard, the Seer screamed, turning her face away at the sight of pointed ears, hands shaking as they still hovered over the destroyed nest. The buzz of flies hissed in her ears, long after the army clamored on, “What have you done?”

Her voice found it strength, this agony unfamiliar. With tears in her eyes, she saw the damaged egg soak in the blood of its kin, and vanish into the shadows.

Screaming after the man and his entourage, long after the last of them stomped through the jungle, she wept for what was, as she had when she had begun this journey. Ecith had most certainly bled, “What have you done!”

She could not stay here anymore. She had to leave.

The others. Vich’uvi.

Pawing at her tears, she jumped to the feet and collected the weapon. She could not change this past, but her present was still unfolding.

Willing her departure, a portal of shadow emerged, opening its mouth to the very place she had left. In the impossible dark, blue lightening flashed and crackled beyond the rift. Fangs snapped. Boraba’s face was hidden but her intentions were clear. Where was Vuka?

Afraid, Yeva focused and imagined the woman. The rift shimmered, but nothing changed. She could not find her. It was like she had not existed. Oh, no. Yeva’s heart sank and she jumped into the dark.
Another round of attacks were being prepared, and her cloak enveloped her.

She had to stop the carnage.

Boraba’s chakram rushed past her to return to the woman’s grasp, and she could see feel Vich’uvi’s might preparing, “Enough!” she screamed, pointing the once again broken sword at the space just behind Boraba. A dark portal opened, and within it were images of Ecith, of real Ecith, where Boraba was supposed to be. Vich’uvi shot out, snapping her jaws just as the Orc and her weapon were sucked out of the Sea. Boraba barely missed the serpent’s head. Prophecy fulfilled.

“Vuka!” she shouted, still searching in the endless dark.

Beside her, the mother snake turned. Time had run out.

With deep regret, Yeva closed her eyes. To either her missing companion, or to the great Primal seeking vengeance, her heart went out to them, past and present, “Forgive me,” she whispered. She could stay here no longer. Like the snap of a finger, the crushing of a skull, the slice of a blade…

Yeva vanished.

And so, the dark forest of Central Ecith was left alone and silent by foreign interlopers. With all present threats gone, Vich'uvi relaxed her coils, poking her head to check on her eggs, the deepest of black hues. All were still intact. And a woman's voice echoed through the darkness, and Vich'uvi responded to it with curiosity.

"She's off to such a lovely start."

Stars began to fall from the sky above the canopy, passing through the limbs without burning them, without breaking them, without so much as disturbing them. They spun around and coalesced with some of the darkness permeating the area until a beautiful woman in an impossibly ornate crown of stargold with a matching dress clinging to her form. As she moved through the forest, Vich'uvi peered down, coming close to her. She raised a hand, touching it to the snout of the great snake and she smiled.



"I know, they don't understand yet. But they will."

The snake nodded slightly, looking to the unseen sky above. "Yes, it is coming soon. Another poor beast that is thrashing against the chains of Order." The woman walked upon nothing to reach the upper coils of Vich'uvi, and sat upon the snake, and rested a hand on one of the eggs. "She will learn to read my signs, learn to make them her own." And the woman smiled broadly now, and as she did, the canopy above opened up, and revealed not stars but entire swirling galaxies, solar systems, and other massive celestial bodies.

"And a few more chains of Order shall break for it."

Vich'uvi looked up into the sky just as several galaxies crashed into each other in an explosion that lit up the night sky in a billion worlds just like this one. With one more pat on the egg, the woman disappeared, and the memory began to return to how it was supposed to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Somewhere in the wilds of Karnor~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Yeva exited the Astral Sea by the power of her Emblem, she would find that she was not returned to the beach from which she had departed. No, now she would find herself stumbling into several feet of snow, surrounded by numerous coniferous trees, a black scale in one hand, a shard of a broken sword in the other. There were no roads, no signs, no people, no objects of civilization in her immediate vicinity. Nearby, an owl hooted three times. The sky above was bright, midday perhaps. However, there was something there that Yeva had never seen.

A black moon had joined the crimson and the emerald moons.

In the distance, a wolf howled. The air smelled crisp, fresh, and aside from the occasional animal call, the world was quiet as more fresh snow began to fall. Yeva was indeed back in the world of mortals. She could see, she could feel, she could taste and smell and walk around and everything else she could do before. She would feel a faint touch upon her shoulder, the hand of her shadow. The shadow slipped and reformed, taking on the shape of the cloak upon her shoulders. It provided no warmth, but it would allow her to disappear in the shadows. And it was also pointing northeast, similar to how it had done previously.

As it settled there upon her, an itching formed on her shoulder. The itch would grow and grow until Yeva would scratch at it, revealing a purple, celestial seeming die, showing five starry pips. The wolf howled again and a second joined in.




~~~~~~~~~~~~Review~~~~~~~~~~~~~

+25 Exp, may not be used for magic

+1 Emblem of Foresight upon Yeva's chest. An additional ability has been added to Yeva's Character Secrets that must be discovered in character.

+1 Unknown Mark of a Die Revealing Five on her shoulder

+1 Shadow Cloak - The Shadow Cloak is a seemingly living entity of Shadow. When not in use, it operates as Yeva's physical shadow. Using it requires just a simple intention from Yeva. When worn, and in any form of shade or shadow, Yeva becomes undetectable to all normal senses below Master level Detection skill. Additionally, the use of Semblance or Aether Sight or similar abilities must be at Master level or higher to detect her in this state. The Shadow Cloak also gently nudges Yeva in a direction, but to what and why must be discovered in character. Finally, if Yeva gains a form of enhanced shadow powers, such as through Elementalism or Nyx or anything similar, more can be learned and unlocked through the Shadow Cloak.

+1 Sword Shard with ancient glyphs upon it in pristine condition

+1 Scale of Vich'uvi