War for Auros: Origins

Sythigen 3

Sythigen

 The wind choked to a breeze as they trudged through the last of the Lightless Forest's overgrown pathways. The more sparse and open the canopy became, the more they felt they could actually breathe. And, soon enough, the two were out of the ever-dark underboughs and roving across great, stocky plains of grass. Finally, their feet had a more rugged surface to take traction, and they could lay down their bodies without fear. It felt as though the creatures whose eyes were once unflinchingly watching them had now long forgotten them; by now, the distant forest was a mere lilac crown on the horizon.

Austhall was a small town, seated comfortably in the shelter of a dreamy green valley whose edges were clasped by the trees of the Lightless Forest, but whose innards were fresh, dewy, and granted full glare of the sun. It appeared strange that the valley hadn't been swallowed by the forest; perhaps it was something in the soil that warded against the growth of Greymere trees. Either way, this was a spectacular sight to behold. They rambled over the brow of the next small grass ridge.

"Thank the Deities. Just look at this." He sighed his lungs out into the open air, as the valley of Austhall came into full view. "They'd be cheering, wouldn't they?"

Threigan trailed behind him despondently, his eyes unraised. He didn't want to think of what his friends had sacrificed. As he came over the verge, he tramped straight past Sythigen and kept his eyes in the grass. Sythigen realised his words were premature. Whatever beauty there was in the environment should have brought him tortuous regret - Threigan's impassiveness made this clear. "I'm sorry, Threigan. I understand; every breath we draw is stolen."

Threigan turned around and put a hand on his shoulder. There was an energy like electricity that flowed from his jade eyes into Sythigen's. It expressed the words, "just shut up," more than words or cries ever could.