The night stretched heavy over the plains, still and cold. The stars above burned bright, their light sharp against the black canvas of the sky. The Silent Soul walked ahead in silence, its steps quiet, yet every movement carried the weight of centuries. Behind it, Hine dragged her feet through the dust, her body screaming with pain from the battle with the Night Beasts.
Every step sent sharp needles through her limbs. Her tunic was torn, soaked in dried blood and grime. The scratches across her arms burned like fire, but the deep gash across her side made it hard to breathe. She pressed her hand over the wound, trying to hold herself together, but she could feel the weakness spreading. Her vision blurred, but she refused to collapse. She could not. Not when she had sworn to survive.
"You will not last the night," the Silent Soul finally said, its voice low, almost detached, like it was reciting a fact and not speaking to her directly.
"I will," Hine rasped, her throat raw.
The Silent Soul stopped and turned, its hollow gaze settling on her. It studied her for a long moment, its face unreadable. "Your body says otherwise. You bleed too much. You push too far. If you keep going, you will collapse, and the plains will eat you whole before dawn."
Hine's legs trembled, but she clenched her jaw and kept moving. She would not show weakness. Not now. Not when she had survived everything thrown at her so far.
"I told you I would walk until I could no longer stand," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her body. "And I am still standing."
The Silent Soul tilted its head slightly, its eyes unreadable. Then, without another word, it turned and resumed walking. The silence between them grew thick, filled only by the crunch of their steps across the barren ground and the distant hum of the wind.
Hine's thoughts drifted as they walked. To the shard that rested in her pouch, faintly glowing against her chest as though it could sense her pain. She had never understood why it called to her, why it responded to her touch, why its light seemed to pulse in rhythm with her heart. She had never questioned it, not truly. She only knew it mattered. That it was important.
By the time they stopped to rest beneath the shadow of a twisted, ancient tree, Hine's body was on the edge of collapse. Her legs gave out as she sank to the ground, her breaths shallow and ragged. The Silent Soul stood nearby, its presence silent but watchful.
She opened her eyes slowly, her vision swimming. The world tilted and spun, but one thing cut through the haze... the shard. Its light had grown brighter, a soft, steady glow that pulsed with life.
"What is it doing…" she whispered, her fingers trembling as she reached for it.
The shard warmed in her hand. Not hot, but comforting, almost like the touch of a hand against her skin. Its glow expanded, spilling over her wounds with a soft, golden light.
The pain dulled.
Her breath hitched as she stared at the wound along her side. The bleeding slowed, then stopped entirely. The torn flesh knitted together before her eyes, leaving behind only faint scars, as if the injury had happened long ago. The scratches along her arms faded, the burning ache replaced by a strange, soothing warmth.
She froze, unable to comprehend what she was seeing.
"It heals," the Silent Soul said, its voice cutting through the quiet.
Hine looked up sharply. "You knew?"
The Silent Soul's hollow gaze met hers. "Not with certainty. But I suspected. The shard is not ordinary. It carries fragments of power from the first dawn of Teyvat. What you hold is more than a relic. It is alive."
Hine stared at the glowing crystal in her hand, her heart pounding. Alive. The word echoed in her mind like a drumbeat.
She clenched her fingers around it, its light spilling through the cracks between her knuckles. "Why? Why me?"
The Silent Soul's silence was heavy, almost suffocating. When it spoke, its voice was quieter, less certain. "Perhaps it chose you. Or perhaps it is simply waiting for something. Power like that does not awaken without reason."
Hine turned the shard in her palm, its glow reflecting in her tired eyes. She remembered every moment since the Silent Soul had found her. Every challenge. Every wound. Every night she had thought she would not live to see the dawn. The shard had been with her through it all, silent and unassuming, until now.
And now it had saved her life.
She tightened her grip, feeling its warmth seep into her bones. There was no fear in her anymore. Only resolve.
"This changes nothing," she said, her voice low but steady. "I will still see them. The Rulers. Naberius. Ronova. Istaroth. Asmoday. If this shard wants something from me, it will have to wait. I have my own path."
The Silent Soul studied her for a long moment, its expression unreadable, before it finally spoke. "Then you should prepare yourself. Power comes with cost. Always."
Hine nodded, though she did not fully understand. She would. In time, she would.
The shard dimmed slightly, its light softening until it was just a quiet glow again, like the calm after a storm. Hine leaned back against the gnarled roots of the tree, exhaustion washing over her. The pain was gone, but her body still felt hollow, as though the healing had drained her of everything but her will to keep moving.
The Silent Soul remained by her side, silent and still, watching the horizon where the first pale light of dawn began to creep into the sky.
"You are still too weak," it said quietly. "Rest. Tomorrow will not be kind."
Hine closed her eyes, clutching the shard against her chest. Its steady glow was the only warmth in the cold night.
She did not know what the shard truly was, or why it had chosen now to awaken, but one thing was certain. She was no longer the same girl who had stumbled into the path of the Silent Soul. She was something else now.
Something stronger.
And whatever lay ahead, whatever danger the shard had begun to whisper of in the silence of her dreams, she would face it.