The chill of the river still clung to Sioux’s skin as they moved further from the Bleeding Spire. The heavy weight of the moment pressed against them, each footstep carrying the burden of what was to come. They had narrowly escaped the Harbingers, but Sioux felt the danger, the looming presence of those who hunted them, following close behind. They couldn’t let up now. 

The forest stretched endlessly before them, a dark labyrinth of trees and underbrush. Moonlight filtered through the thick canopy above, but even the light of the moon seemed muted here, as if the very air had absorbed all the color. Each breath felt heavier than the last, as if the world was holding its breath with them.

Sioux’s thoughts swirled with fragments of the past, with memories of their childhood, of the legends they had heard as a child. The Blood Omen. A title so heavy, so fraught with meaning. And now, they were the last of it. Sioux had never asked for this—never wanted it—but it was their reality, and they were stuck with it, caught in the weight of an ancient bloodline that bound them to a destiny they could neither escape nor understand.

Caedric’s presence beside them was a comfort, though. His silence was comforting, but it was the kind of silence that offered understanding, not emptiness. Sioux had known him only for a short time, but the bond between them had already grown stronger than they could have imagined. Caedric wasn’t just a companion—he was a partner, in this mission, in the fight for survival.

It was a partnership born from necessity, but it felt more… genuine, as if something beyond the mission was holding them together. Sioux couldn't help but wonder what that something was.

As they walked through the darkness, Sioux couldn’t help but feel the pull of the sigil inside them, a low hum that vibrated through their veins. It wasn’t the first time they had felt it, but it had become more pronounced over the past few days. The sigil’s energy—its hunger—was growing stronger. And with it, the legacy of their bloodline.

“Sioux,” Caedric’s voice was soft, breaking the silence, but it held a steady warmth. “I know we’re pushing through this in silence, but… you alright?”

Sioux glanced at him, offering a small nod, but the truth was, they didn’t feel alright. Not in the least. “I’ll be fine. Just… thinking.” They paused, exhaling a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. To be the last of the Blood Omen. It’s… it’s a lot to carry, Caedric.”

Caedric didn’t respond right away. He just kept walking, his footsteps steady and confident, as if the world around them could shift and crumble, but he wouldn’t falter. Finally, he spoke, his voice gentle. “We don’t get to choose our burdens, Sioux. But we get to choose how we carry them. And I think you’re doing a damn good job of it.”

Sioux felt their chest tighten, but the pressure wasn’t as crushing as it had been before. Maybe it was Caedric’s words, or maybe it was something more—like the first light of dawn breaking over the horizon, piercing the darkness that had clung to them for so long.

They didn’t know how to thank him for that. For offering comfort when everything felt so precarious. So, instead, Sioux simply nodded. “I don’t know what’s coming next, but I won’t let this bloodline define me.”

Caedric’s lips quirked slightly, a faint, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’s the spirit. We’re in this together, Sioux. Whatever happens, we face it head-on.”

The words were simple, but they anchored Sioux’s heart, grounding them in a way they hadn’t felt in a long time. They could trust him. They could rely on him.

—

Hours passed, the forest stretching on without end. Every crack of a twig, every rustle of leaves in the wind felt amplified, as if the forest itself was conspiring against them. Sioux knew they couldn’t stay in the woods much longer. The Harbingers were skilled trackers, and even though they had left the river behind, the scent of their bloodline could still be traced.

Caedric seemed to sense it, too. His movements had grown more cautious, his eyes scanning the shadows with a heightened awareness.

“We need shelter,” he muttered, his tone tight with urgency. “We can’t keep running forever.”

Sioux nodded, glancing around. “There’s an old hunting cabin not far from here. It used to be a safehouse for travelers, back before the wars. I think it’s still standing. It’s not far—just a few miles from here.”

Caedric didn’t hesitate. “Lead the way.”

—

It took them another hour to find the cabin, and when they did, Sioux couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. The cabin was small, its wooden frame weathered and worn, but it still stood strong, a relic of a time long past. The windows were shuttered, and the door was half-broken, but it was more than enough for what they needed. It would shield them for the night, give them the rest they so desperately craved.

Once inside, the first thing Sioux did was check the old hearth, brushing away the ash and dirt. The cabin hadn’t been used in years, but they managed to start a small fire to keep the chill at bay. The soft crackle of the flames was a comforting sound, though it didn’t entirely mask the tension in the air.

As the firelight flickered across the room, Sioux leaned against the stone hearth, staring into the flames. The warmth seeped into their bones, but it did little to ease the coldness that gripped their soul. They could feel the weight of the sigil’s power growing stronger, pulsing beneath their skin.

Caedric had already begun inspecting the room, his eyes alert as he scanned for anything useful. He moved with the same efficiency that had saved their lives in the past days, as though he was always a step ahead. Sioux admired that about him. He was never unprepared.

“What now?” Caedric asked, his voice a soft murmur that still carried the weight of the question.

Sioux swallowed, trying to ignore the gnawing hunger inside them, the pull of the sigil demanding more. “We wait until dawn. And then… we figure out our next move. The Harbingers won’t stop, and I don’t think they’ll be the last ones coming for me.”

Caedric nodded, his expression unreadable but steady. “We’ll be ready for them. Together.”

Sioux met his gaze, holding it for a moment. The silence between them stretched longer than usual, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a promise.

—

As the night wore on, the fire burned lower, casting long shadows across the walls. Sioux drifted in and out of restless sleep, plagued by dreams of the sigil—of the ancient curse that flowed through their veins like poison. It would be impossible to outrun it forever. The pull was too strong. 

But they weren’t alone anymore. They had someone beside them now.

And for the first time in a long while, Sioux allowed themselves to believe that maybe… just maybe… they had a chance.