Sunlit Fate

Foreshadowing

Mysta


In that moment, she felt it in her chest; the princess, her dear sister, had passed to aetherwhere. Rosalba told Verthera to stay put, but she could not help herself; she had to kill as many dark knights as her strength and anger would allow. She cannot wait around, watching her home being taken over, waiting for Soren to return. Why hadn't Rosalba sent her instead? Was it because she was a woman? Or was it because Rosalba cherished and trusted Soren more, despite being sisters. There were distant cheers from Dawn’s army because of Rosalba's death. It sickened Verthera to her core.

There were so many, and half of them weren't even living beings. Verthera swung her spear through a dark knight, but it simply faded into black dust, including its dark armor. Dawn must have had a necromancer on his side, who called spirits of the dead to fight for him. She saw the confusion among her companions as they experienced the same events. She also saw many of them slaughtered effortlessly by the very dark knights that were so easy to kill. It was the worst time, really. Everyone had been prepared for Dawn’s arrival, but not until three days’ time. Few of her men were in armor - Verthera herself still wore her sleeping garments, not wasting a moment to fight beside her comrades.

Soon, the commotion dwindled. The dark knights began retreating and Dawn’s army fell back; he was done here, and had other things to worry about.

The dark knight's dust mingled with the wind, causing dark skies and a gloomy, eerie atmosphere. Despite cries of agony from injured warriors and blood at her feet, Verthera sighed and centered her mind. For now, their fates rest with Soren.


Earth [Blue Gem]


Stella had never been religious nor was she spiritual, but in that moment, she prayed. She prayed to whatever force was at hand; the Universe, God, perhaps Fate – it didn't matter. She prayed, and silently begged to anything and nothing at all, that the little boy across the tracks would sit down next to his mother, away from the arriving train. He was so small, so young. He played with a toy and ran around in circles, while his mother sat on the bench, her face immovable to the glowing screen of her device. That familiar feeling had crept up within Stella again. The uncontrollable twitch of her muscles, the burning sensation of her left eye. A vision was arising and she knew the feeling all too well. She strongly assumed it had something to do with the little boy playing dangerously near the tracks. She resisted and pushed the sensation away for as long as she can. “Please, not now...” she whispered.

She gazed at the sky for a moment, something she always did before a vision surfaced. It was twilight and the lovely shades of warmth melted into the violet, outstretched clouds. It was a moment of nostalgic serenity, watching the clouds pass slowly with ease, reminding her of time stopping. Of course, the feeling of peacefulness was fleeting and the vision violated its way into her mind regardless.

She quickly saw flashes of flesh and blood, images of mangled and unrecognizable parts left behind by the train, and heard the cries of bystanders all within a ten second lapse. The visions were always quick, but they left their imprint. When she entered back into reality, she tried desperately to control her heavy breathing, tightly shutting her eyes. It was a routine that she taught herself to do each time, to pull herself together. She started rubbing her left eye from its lingering irritation, something that also happened after a vision. People who witnessed her hyperventilating glanced in concern, but their apprehension was brief and mild.

She started thinking quickly; she tried her best to never interfere with whatever these visions were, but when children were involved, she forced herself to do something, anything. Stella only let one child die ever,= and she constantly hoped that they would be the last time. Sweating nervously, Stella did the only thing she could think of. She ran out of the platform, inside the tunnels and back into the halls of the station, close to the exit. “Where is it, where is it?” Looking around frantically, and eventually she found what she was looking for: the fire alarm she had passed on her way in. Without hesitation she pulled on the lever. She had jerked the handle so hard that it broke off and without realizing, she clenched it tightly in her hands.

People hurried out of the station in annoyance rather than fear. When Stella saw the little boy and his mother exit, she felt a wave of relief. The child was clearly going to live. The sirens started blaring, she felt it again – the sickening feeling of a vision ascending. “What?” Stella whispered in confusion. She covered her left eye, putting heavy pressure on it to ease the stinging pain. It was odd to have two visions back-to-back. She controlled her panting and let the vision ease into her mind.

None of her senses were ever free in the moment of foresight, making it so that she felt overwhelmed every time. She stood upon a battlefield. Strange weapons, along with simple, yet peculiar looking air crafts scattered across the fields. She saw death too, and oh did she smell it. She felt the hot and still air of whatever this place was and almost tasted blood in her mouth. Whispers of despair began to consume her. There was no one there, yet it felt as though a crowd of people surrounded her, hissing to her. She covered her ears, shut her eyes tight and kneeled to the ground, whimpering. Stop, please stop, she pleaded. Visions never lasted this long, she wanted out sooner than 'now.'

“Save them,” an angelic echo called to her, silencing the stray voices. Stella spun around, only to be faced with nothing but the awful scenery of blood stained skies and dismembered corpses for miles. She turned back to the way she had been facing, this time, standing up in awe. A beautiful being stood only a few feet away from her. The light this woman emitted wasn't bothersome, but pleasant. It was a soft glow and although there was no wind, her crimson hair floated like waves rippling. She wore a translucent gown the color of skies and on the center of her chest, just below her collar bones, a maroon birthmark resembling a flower began to fade. She began walking towards Stella, and Stella cringed internally as she heard flesh and blood being stepped on. Nevertheless her eyes stood steady to the ethereal woman's own, she emanated sanctuary. When they stood face to face, the woman lifted a hand to Stella's cheek, caressing it softly. Her lips began moving as if she were speaking, but Stella heard nothing.

“What are you saying?” Stella begged.

The woman looked at Stella in confusion and then in betrayal, taking her hand off of Stella's face. The woman stepped away, shaking her head in disappointment. Stella reached out, calling to her. “Wait! What are you trying to tell me?”

The darkness had begun to brighten and before she realized it, Stella was back. She was all alone in the underground station, the alarm no longer blaring. She left her hand over her left eye and waited for the throbbing to stop. She noticed that she had still been grasping the handle and released it, feeling the tingling of pins and needles inside her palm. Several moments passed while her head and hand pulsated uncomfortably. Finally, physically drained, she groaned and her hand slipped from face, realizing she had to walk home.