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One I instantly recognize.
“I swear to the Fates, I am taking the longest shower in the history of showers after this,” Branwen groans. “Fuck caves. Fuck nature. Fuck climbing stairs made of dirt with no godsdamned railing. I can’t believe people do this shit on purpose. Absolute nutters, each and every one of them.”
Her tirade seems to go on forever, and the entire time all four of us search for where her voice is coming from. But even with our enhanced eyesight and the brighter-than-usual sky, the Omega is nowhere to be found.
Until, with a sharp, shocked intake of breath, Vaelenor raises a finger and points—right at the hole in the ground.
Caelan lurches forward as a hand appears on the edge. Followed by another. Then, with a final grunt of effort—is she actually climbing stairs right now?—a head covered with hair the color of midnight, with a thousand curls sticking out every which way, pops up as well.
Branwen.
Branwen… is climbing out of that hole.
She takes a few more steps—which we can’t see from this angle—before stumbling out of the hole and onto the grass, falling onto her knees with a groan.
Does she even know we’re here?
Something tells me she has no clue because she keeps talking as she crawls away from the opening. She makes it about eight feet before falling onto her back in the grass with an exaggerated groan.
And Fates… she looks fucking awful. Black circles darken her eyes, and her hair’s a mess. Her clothing is torn in some places and covered in dirt and debris, like she’s been in the middle of more than a fucking cave-in.
We’re all so shocked after watching her climb out of that hole that no one knows how to react. So instead of saying something and alerting her to our presence, we stand there like idiots as she keeps complaining about every nature or nature-adjacent thing she can think of.
Finally, Caelan growls and shoves forward, pushing me out of the way in his quest to get to the Omega.
The Omega. Singular.
One. Alone.
Where the fuck is Idril?
As Caelan gets closer, Branwen lifts an arm and throws out her hand, gesturing for him to stop. “Not another step, lover boy. I know you want to see her, but give her a second. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen to me and stay right where you are.”
Caelan frowns.
“Not another inch closer. I can hear you trying to convince yourself to ignore me, but that would be very, very stupid.”
What the fuck?
“Seer,” Soren mutters under his breath. “She knew we were here the whole time.”
“Where’s Idril?”
The words come out before I realize I’ve said them.
With a long-suffering sigh, Branwen opens her eyes and pushes up on her elbows. She turns her head, and her eyes find mine with unerring accuracy.
“What did I just say, Daxen?”
“To stay where we are,” I answer through clenched teeth.
“Because…”
“I don’t have time for your games tonight.” I can feel my muscles tensing as my eyes dart between the Seer and the giant hole she crawled out of. “Where the hell did that sinkhole come from?”
“Not a sinkhole.” She corrects me, then dismisses my question with a wave of her wrist.
At my side, Soren’s huge frame goes eerily still. Branwen pushes off her elbows and climbs onto her feet.
