Darkness.
It hides the secrets of the world from prying eyes. Most of them, at least. But for the sacrifice it demands, it offers something in return.
In taking away sight, it sharpens other senses. Hearing, smell, and touch. Everything becomes heightened to a certain level. For most, anyway.
Kael and Lune would fit into this category. Normal humans, without a drop of Raw Vita in them, lack the heightened senses one receives from harvesting and absorbing Raw Vita. Of course, that is also decided by what one absorbs Raw Vita from.
But for them, even with their senses straining in the dark, they couldn't begin to match what Blanc and Celine were capable of.
Their bodies, laced with Raw Vita, were attuned to the world in ways Kael and Lune could not yet imagine.
For Celine, the darkness before her eyes was less oppressive than it was for the others.
The Marks on her body, a secret she kept from all present, made it so.
While Kael and Lune sometimes bumped into trees or stumbled over roots or patches of mud, she moved with grace. Every step was sure.
She avoided each obstacle effortlessly, keeping pace with Blanc as he led the way or turned back to help the twins to their feet.
Even now, in this wild place, her poise would make noble ladies envious, if they could see anything in the suffocating dark, that is.
From the way she flowed between the trees, one might think she could see at least two feet ahead. Just enough to keep Blanc in her sight. The thought made her smile softly to herself as she walked.
The Raw Vita within her from plenty of beasts, not too much, but just enough, granted her this delicate gift.
Enough to see the outline of his back as he moved forward, focused and heartbroken, guiding them all through the shadows of the forest to what she hoped to be safety.
For Blanc, the darkness posed no real challenge. The Marks of the lynx and owl, faint outlines etched into his skin, and the Raw Vita they carried granted him more than enough vision to move confidently through the forest.
That, and memory.
The familiar path toward the lake where Lune had once fallen in, and beyond that, the trail from his last hunt.
But more than sight, it was his hearing and sense of smell that grounded him now and gave him the confidence for another step forward.
The Raw Vita in his body had sharpened those senses beyond anything human. The scent of blood still clung faintly in the air behind them, even minutes after leaving the battleground and its remains.
Every sound within hundreds of feet was his to witness. Lune as she stumbled on the root of an old tree. Kael's quick, shallow breaths. Celine's calm, measured exhale. The distant crunch of twigs beneath the paws of wild beasts that, wisely and luckily, chose not to come closer.
He could sense it all. And that awareness was his confidence.
In the chaos of battle and the whirlwind of emotions of recent days, he hadn't had the space to notice it. To rely on it.
But now, he did. He needed to. He was wounded, and if a creature like the lynx from before came upon them now, he knew he wouldn't be able to protect the others as he once had.
Celine, for all her poise and strength, he knew she possessed, might not fare better. He didn't fully understand the Marks she had or what they could do.
As she did not wish to tell him about them yet. And this wasn't the time to find out. The risk was too great.
So he remained focused, every nerve tuned to the forest around them. Every scent, every rustling branch, every distant call of wings above. He was aware of them all. And as long as he could, he knew he would keep them safe.
Until, in the distance, in a valley, far away from the path, Blanc wanted to continue their road on, a charming hum could be heard.
The hum felt female in voice, a high pitch that danced with the calm wind between branches and grass, straight into his enhanced ears.
"Hold," Blanc whispered, stopping everyone in their tracks.
"What is it?" Celine asked, "Beasts?"
"Do you not hear that?" Blanc wondered, raising his head towards the branches and closing his eyes, focusing on the beautiful song.
"I do not hear anything. Kael, Lune, do you?" Celine asked the twins.
"No, nothing. I barely heard anything this whole time," Kael replied.
"Me neither," Lune added, "What do you hear, brother?"
"A hum. Like a mother singing to her child to sleep. It's… beautiful," Blanc muttered, explaining what he was hearing.
"That sounds bad," Kael sharply exhaled, creeped out by his brother's explanation.
"I agree with Kael," Celine said, "It might not be the best of times for adventures, or unnecessary risks. It sounds like some form of spell."
"There is an issue, though," Blanc said, still focused on the song, charmed by it.
"What issue?" Celine asked.
"That is the path we have to take, towards the sound," Blanc replied.
"Can't we go another way?" Lune said, clearly against the idea.
"We can… we can… but we will not. I know that path better. We walk." Blanc confirmed, unfazed by his younger sister's clear disdain for the idea of walking towards this unheard sound, only he was hearing.
As they drew closer, the song grew louder in Blanc's ears. Each step carried it deeper into him.
Soon, the others began to hear it too, and with it, the strange and unexpected beauty it carried.
"It's… It's wonderful," Celine whispered.
"I know," Blanc exhaled, his focus entirely consumed by the melody ahead.
"Blanc, slow down, please," Kael called out, his voice louder now. The darkness made it harder for him and Lune to keep pace, and they were nearly being dragged forward by the rope. "Celine, calm him down!"
But his plea went unanswered by both. A moment later, Kael stumbled, his face bumping into Blanc's back, and Lune collided with Celine in the same way. Just as they all came to an abrupt stop.
The hum kept on going magnificently.
They pulled apart from each other slowly, disoriented, and then their eyes found the source of the sound.
Atop a broad stone, in the center of the valley, stood three radiant beasts. And somehow, impossibly, they lit the space around them.
Their presence shimmered across the clearing, casting a quiet glow.
One was a white fox, lying gracefully on her belly, fur immaculate and still.
The other was a deer, just as white, seated beside the fox with its long legs tucked neatly beneath it. She watched the fox with large, dark eyes. A deep, eerie contrast to the shining brilliance of their shared coats.
And the last was an eagle, gleaming white like the others, perched high at the peak of the stone, its gaze fixed on the pair below.
They sang together, or so it seemed. But only one voice reached the ears of the four witnesses.
"I forgive you," said the same female voice they had heard humming moments before. "But you must leave now."
As the final word faded, the three beasts turned their heads at once and looked directly at Blanc and the rest.
As if suddenly awake from a dream, Blanc spoke, "We must leave. Now."