02-25-2020, 03:08 AM
Neither Armande nor Rowan’s new-found sister said a word to her. Both had been more or less silent, even between each other. Rowan wasn’t quite sure how to take any of that; she still didn’t really know enough of either of them. Oh, on a spiritual level, yes, but the physical? That was a whole different mess of things. What was Vale’s tell? Did Armande snore? What made Vale happy? Did Armande drink or partake in other goodies? What did Vale want out of life, besides the obvious? Did Armande have a difficult childhood? All mysteries.
Rowan’s stomach did a turn.
There would be time enough in the future to come to fully know her compatriots. For now, they were to leave this dreary place. Armande and Vale turned to go back into the Bunker and Rowan followed in silence. It was for the best. Rowan did not feel much like talking.
It was the damned vision’s fault, the one before she took her eye out. Two futures; one where she took her own eye, and another where her eye remained intact… Both vastly different timelines. She did not see every event, just enough flashes from each of the divergent lines to tell her that she needed to join Armande and Vale. Rowan Finnegan was destined to be the White Eye.
Even now, those Visions haunt me… Those… Patterns of fate. It’s fleeting. Goddesses, I can barely recall a single detail- but that feeling- it just won’t shake off, Rowan thought to herself, brows furrowing. Vale and Armande were striding far ahead. Rowan had to pick up her steps to close the gap, lest they question why she dawdled.
They came to some chests, Armande rifling through them as Vale looked on with a hungry smile. Was it for the contents of the chest, Armande, or something more? Rowan would bet anything that her sister was thinking of the future and their path to victory in the coming war. It was the one thing that kept floating at the edge of Rowan’s own mind and it was tied to the future she had chosen for the world.
The more Rowan contemplated it, that vision shared with Vale and Armande, had to be a portent of war. What else could it be?
War with the Ascendancy.
Rowan’s stomach did a turn.
There would be time enough in the future to come to fully know her compatriots. For now, they were to leave this dreary place. Armande and Vale turned to go back into the Bunker and Rowan followed in silence. It was for the best. Rowan did not feel much like talking.
It was the damned vision’s fault, the one before she took her eye out. Two futures; one where she took her own eye, and another where her eye remained intact… Both vastly different timelines. She did not see every event, just enough flashes from each of the divergent lines to tell her that she needed to join Armande and Vale. Rowan Finnegan was destined to be the White Eye.
Even now, those Visions haunt me… Those… Patterns of fate. It’s fleeting. Goddesses, I can barely recall a single detail- but that feeling- it just won’t shake off, Rowan thought to herself, brows furrowing. Vale and Armande were striding far ahead. Rowan had to pick up her steps to close the gap, lest they question why she dawdled.
They came to some chests, Armande rifling through them as Vale looked on with a hungry smile. Was it for the contents of the chest, Armande, or something more? Rowan would bet anything that her sister was thinking of the future and their path to victory in the coming war. It was the one thing that kept floating at the edge of Rowan’s own mind and it was tied to the future she had chosen for the world.
The more Rowan contemplated it, that vision shared with Vale and Armande, had to be a portent of war. What else could it be?
War with the Ascendancy.