The hooded figure didn't answer Valcroy immediately. Instead, she slowly raised her hand toward her hood. With a gentle motion, she pushed it back, revealing the face beneath—an old woman.
She sat quietly in the chair before the crackling fireplace, the warmth of the flames casting a soft glow on her face. Though her receded hood had obscured some of her features, what could now be seen was a face deeply marked by time.
Deep wrinkles etched across her skin, particularly around her eyes and mouth, spoke of a long life filled with both harsh and pleasant experiences. Strands of silver hair escaped from the hood, shimmering faintly in the firelight. Her intense purple eyes, though a bit blurry, telling a story, still held a sharp awareness. Thin, arched eyebrows framed her eyes, maintaining a hint of grace and beauty despite the passage of years.
Although her robe covered most of her figure, her oval-shaped face and pronounced cheekbones, softened by time, hinted at a youthful beauty that still lingered beneath the surface. Her thin lips, slightly downturned, gave an impression of weariness, yet there was a certain calmness in her expression, as if she was at peace with the world. The firelight flickered across her face, casting fleeting shadows that seemed to dance with the depth of her gaze, further enhancing the mysterious aura that surrounded her.
Valcroy stared at her in silence, while Erik studied her face, his gaze flickering between the old woman and the fire. Finally, he broke the silence. "Where are we?" Trying to understand their surroundings.
The old woman's eyes met his, the flickering flames reflecting in them.
"Thou standest in the midst of thy appointed fate."
Erik's brow furrowed, unsatisfied with the cryptic answer. Valcroy, growing impatient, leaned forward slightly, his voice firmer as he asked, "And where exactly is that?"
The old woman's lips curled into a faint, almost knowing smile as she replied, "Where thou art required to be." Her tone was gentle yet evasive, as if the answer was both simple and unbearably complex.
Valcroy exchanged a glance with Erik, the silence stretching between them. "And what does that mean?" Valcroy pressed, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and frustration.
The old woman's eyes softened as she turned back toward the fire, her voice barely above a whisper. "It doth signify that the path unfoldeth as it must, and thou art precisely where the Pathfinder hath guided thee."
"Pathfinder?"
Valcroy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. But before he could grasp what she meant...
Huunnnnennn*
A voice, which they were very familiar with, sounded. Both of them looked up, and their expressions changed as they noticed the ceiling of the hut had vanished, revealing the crimson sky above. A familiar creature swam through the air—the whale, the same infamous whale that had massacred the Alliance army. They leaped to their feet, swords drawn, as the monstrous whale dived straight toward them.
"Careful!" Erik said out loud, sending the infected to hide behind the bookshelf. He and Valcroy exchanged a tense look before turning their attention to the old woman, who remained seated, seemingly unperturbed by the impending danger. Clenching their hands around their weapons, they sprang into action, rushing to lift the old woman and her chair away from harm. But as they moved, her calm voice cut through the chaos.
"Thy compassion is most worthy of acclaim," she said, her voice softly.
Valcroy, his frustration and urgency evident, shot back, "Now is not the time for commendations! Young master Erik." He looked to Erik, who was struggling to move the chair, but it wouldn't budge. As if it were rooted to the ground, not wanting to let it go.
Erik, straining against the immovable chair, called out, "Take her! I'll hold off the creature. My realm should give me a bit more time."
Valcroy nodded quickly and reached for the old woman. Now wasn't the time to bicker amongst one another. But as he attempted to grab her, he collided with an invisible force field surrounding her. The impact sent him stumbling back.
"Oww!" he yelped in pain. Erik's eyebrows rose, alarmed, but he kept his focus on the approaching creature and it was coming in hot.
Their nonexistent hearts pounded as Valcroy sprung back up and prepared to try again, while Erik braced himself for a confrontation with the behemoth, a battle where his chances of winning for zero percent. But before they could act, the old woman's voice, calm and detached, stopped them in their tracks. "Thy chivalry is worthy of great admiration, yet often the solution lieth beyond that which thine eyes can perceive." She pointed upward with quiet resolve.
Following her direction, Erik and Valcroy watched in astonishment as a miracle unfolded. The giant whale-like creature began shrinking as it dived. Its enormous form dwindling rapidly until it was no larger than a fish that was no bigger then their palm. Its once-menacing appearance now seemed harmless, floating gently in the air. It had transformed into a cute black-obsidian fish, its monstrous teeth nowhere in sight—looking like a harmless little creature, though they knew better and didn't dare to go near it. Erik could feel the threatening feeling he was getting from the creature and shook his head with a bitter smile. If the creature wanted, he wouldn't have last one second against it.
Erik, unable to believe what he was seeing, glanced at Valcroy, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. Valcroy, equally stunned, turned to the old woman, his mouth hanging open wide enough to swallow the obsidian fish whole.
The old woman remained silent as she extended her hand. The tiny whale began swimming around it, pushing with its tail gently like a coy little creature seeking its master's approval.
"The pathfinder," she said, her voice echoing in the small hut, "Seeketh those who were given the charge of salvation."
Erik, his eyes narrowed and locked on the whale, asked, "Why did it seek us?"
The old woman's smile was enigmatic, her expression inscrutable. "A pathfinder is bound by the ancient whispers of vows long faded. Salvation is not merely an end, but a veil lifted from the eyes of the drifters."
Valcroy, his confusion deepening, frowned and asked, "Why am I... why are we entangled in this?" He wanted to ask about himself, but then remembered that Erik was involved now as well.
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes reflecting the dim light of the fire. "Ye are the drifters upon the path of twilight, those who tread where shadows falleth. Thy entanglement is as much a part of fate as the thread that weaveth the tapestry of existence."
Erik, growing more frustrated, demanded, "What if we refuse?"
Hahaha..*
Hehe*
.
.
The old woman's laughter echoed through the hut, a haunting sound that rippled through the space. This was the first time they had heard her laugh, and it was very skin crawling. The sound seemed to blend with the unsettling chuckles of the frozen figures surrounding them. Valcroy noticed that although the figures remained eerily still, laughter emanated from each of them, a chilling contrast to their unmoving forms.
As the whale-like creature continued its slow, serpentine motion around the old woman, she fixed her piercing gaze on Erik. Her voice, carrying an almost musical weight, resonated with a somber truth. "Thou, a fragmented Starborne, the bearer of the first amber, must heed thy path. Refusal shall cast thee into the state of a soul-scorned wanderer. If thou persisteth as a drifter, aimless and without purpose, the end that awaiteth thee is that of a phantom, endlessly roaming the abyss, bereft of purpose and self."
The old woman's gaze softened, and the laughter faded as she continued, her tone tinged with sorrow as she mumbled. "A purpose nothing but fleeting, like sparks in the wind. The true path revealed through trials and choices, and the journey itself shall unearth the salvation thou seekest."
She mumbled, "A shadow cast by the flame of understanding. What thou perceivest is but a part of the greater truth that unfoldeth as thou dost walk. What can be thou purpose in this tapestry?"
Erik and Valcroy stared at the old woman, who remained focused on the flickering flames in the fireplace. Her cryptic words echoed in their minds, leaving behind a trail of confusion and unease. Each sentence had brought with it a string of questions: What did she mean by them being the Starborne? And what purpose did they even have here, in this strange and ominous place, other than the desperate need to escape?
No matter how hard they tried to piece it together, nothing surfaced that could explain the purpose she spoke of. Erik had his own goals, but they weren't tied to this place. Valcroy too had his reasons, but they seemed disconnected from this strange place.
Sensing the turmoil in their thoughts, the old woman finally spoke again, her voice soft yet resolute. "Trouble not thyselves with such thoughts," she said, her eyes still fixed on the fire. "I shall be thy guide, revealing the path that lieth before thee. Whether thou choosest to walk it or no, that choice remaineth thine alone."
Her words, though meant to comfort, only deepened their confusion. They kept looking at her, who in turn was keeping her gaze on the fire.
Silence settled over the hut once more, broken only by their breathing. Erik finally asked, "What is a Starborne?"
The old woman's eyes flickered, as if she had been waiting for this question. She turned her chair away from the fire and faced them. Looking at the two, she said, "I am the last maiden of the Star. Wilt thou accept me as thy maiden of the Star?"
Valcroy and Erik exchanged glances, not fully understanding what she was asking. But the seriousness in her tone made them realize that whatever this "maiden of the Star" business was, it was significant.
After a brief nod from Valcroy, Erik said, "We accept."
The moment he did, the world seemed to still for a moment. Everything around them began to shake, but they remained seated, as if in a different plane and nothing can make them leave their chairs. Before they could comprehend what was happening, they found themselves surrounded by the hooded figures. Murmurs filled the air as the figures whispered among themselves. Their stares fixed on the two, but the deep hood obscured their expression.
Both Valcroy and Erik tensed, ready to spring into action, but a voice rang out, silencing the whispers. "Hush, all who are present."
They turned toward the old woman, who gave them a warm smile as she continued, "The Wayfinder and the Guide of the wandrers shall now impart all that thou needest to know. Ere thou learnest of the Starborne, thou must first understand the world of Lorien, the Sanctuary of Dream."