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The tranquil valley was draped in a veil of poltergeist-white fog. It was eerily silent as it drifted and ghosted, glided and dangled, consuming nature; then it pounced, sweeping in her chambers through the spaces between cracked open windows. It clung to and enrobed everything it could. Nothing was spared. This, however, did not wake her, not the slightest bit. It was the sound of his bare skin brushing against her bed frame that did.
Her eyes heavily parted to see a man with silver white hair gazing down at her. He took a step forward yet she didn't flinch, even when he brought himself on the mattress, slowly moving towards her.
Though it was dark, the light coming from the sky was enough to illuminate a part of his face. She first took notice of his eyes, bright and amber like it always had been, then his hair, long yet jagged; finally, the silver medallion hanging around his neck that swung around lightly, grazing over her breasts. This was the first time that she saw him up close, just inches away from her half-naked body, and so she brought a hand up, gently planting it on his chest. Her fingertips brushed over his rough skin, drenched of sweat, but then she caressed over a bump: a scar that ran along the side of his abdomen.
❝Hmm,❞ the stranger glowered, eyes staring down at her, but then he moved forward, lightly pressing himself against her, as if allowing her to explore more of his marks. She smiled and delicately wrapped her legs around him. The only thing separating them were her silk robes which eventually slipped to her sides until they were skin-to-skin.
They sank back into a cloud of serenity as the fog around them altered into golden flames, enveloping them with the rest of the Continent.
━━━━━━━𝐈 ━━━━━━━
She woke to smoke.
Her eyes flitted over the drapes and tunics scattered around the cabin, hanging on racks and piling on the carpet.To no surprise, the space beside her was empty. She blew out a tired breath, tugging the wrinkled sheets to cover her chest. When she rose, she walked over to the parted curtain and saw the abandoned campfire where the smoke was coming from.
The woman walked out with her robes on and headed down the man-made path. Her feet, bare and cold, stepped on pebbles and twigs. Yet she didn't feel the slightest bit of pain—or she had already felt too much of it to care. She did, however, feel herself stepping onto a pool of dry blood.
❝What the—❞ She looked down to see a large flabby corpse of a Sylvan, its pink skin covered with splotches of blood and dirt. She bent over to the see a large gash on its neck, what looked to be the cause of its death. ❝Well, I don't suppose you can tell me where he went.❞
