The Ashen Rebellion

11 | A startling vision

NYSSA DRIFTED INTO A restless sleep, her mind still swirling with the day's events. As her consciousness faded, she found herself in an location different than her other ones, one that felt disturbingly vivid, almost like a.... vision.

She was moving through a dense forest, the canopy above filtering the moonlight into dappled patterns on the forest floor. She felt the sensation of twigs snapping underfoot and the cool night air on her skin. But something was off. She wasn't seeing through her own eyes. The realization hit her as she glanced to her left.

Walking beside her was a man, dressed in pleasant yet practical clothes. His attire consisted of a dark green tunic with intricate embroidery at the hems, brown leather trousers, and sturdy boots. He had a gentle face, marred by the intensity of the situation. It dawned on her that she was seeing through the eyes of a thief.

Exactly as Eamon had described, the trail to the cache was treacherous. The forest grew denser, the path narrower. Every rustle of leaves and snap of a branch set her heart pounding faster. The journey felt endless, each step a testament to their determination. Her senses were heightened, taking in every detail—the scent of damp earth, the distant hoot of an owl, the way the man beside her breathed heavily yet steadily.

As they neared their destination, a sense of dread settled over her. The trees parted to reveal a clearing, at the center of which stood an ominous cave entrance. Just as they stepped forward, the ground seemed to tremble. Emerging from the shadows of the cave was a monstrous, otherworldly beast. Its eyes glowed a malevolent red, its form grotesque and twisted. It towered over them, a demonic presence that exuded pure malice.

The thief and his companions prepared to fight, drawing their weapons with trembling hands. The battle was brutal. The beast moved with terrifying speed and strength, tearing through their defenses. Each attack from the men seemed futile, their weapons barely grazing its tough hide. One by one, they fell, their screams echoing in the night. The sight of their bloodied, lifeless bodies was harrowing.

Nyssa's heart raced as she witnessed the slaughter, her hands shaking uncontrollably. The vision blurred and faded, and she found herself back in the familiar, eerie dreamscape with the guardian standing before her.

"Why are you showing me this?" She demanded, her voice quivering with anger and fear. "Why make me see them die?"

The guardian's presence was as imposing as ever. "Because tomorrow morning, your group will embark on that same journey," He said, his voice a calm monotone. "And without you and your powers, they will die."

Nyssa clenched her fists, shaking her head in denial. "Kael is leading it, and Kael is the best fighter the Rebellion has, possibly even better than I am," She retorted. Quickly adding, for her ego's sake. "Not that I'd ever mention that to him, in fear of his head growing too big." 

The guardian's expression was unreadable, his gaze piercing. "You have a bad feeling about this mission," He stated, his words cutting through her facade.

Nyssa crossed her arms defensively, looking away. "Maybe," She admitted reluctantly.

"In time, you'll learn to take your instincts more seriously," The guardian continued. "But until then, all I can tell you is, good luck."

With that, he disappeared, leaving her alone in the dark void of the dream. She jolted awake with a startled gasp, falling off the bench she had fallen asleep on. The room was dark, the torches blown out. As she gathered her bearings, she noticed the sword she had been sharpening was back in its rightful place, and a soft blue blanket was draped across her lap.

She had no idea who had placed it there, but decided not to ask questions. Gathering the blanket around her body, she stormed off to her room, the weight of the vision pressing heavily on her mind.