The Birth of a New Companion
The storm had passed,
but the silence that followed was heavier than thunder.
---
Lyne stood motionless in the serpent's den.
Its blood clung to her boots.
Its body lay still—coiled eternally around shattered dreams.
---
Her fingers ached from the sword.
But her chest ached more.
Not pain.
Not guilt.
Just something she couldn't name.
---
A faint sound—barely a breath—
drew her eyes downward.
The last egg trembled.
A hairline crack splintered its surface like breaking glass.
---
Her hand reached for it—then stopped.
Why?
She didn't know.
It wasn't mercy.
It wasn't regret.
Just… a feeling that this thing had no business surviving,
yet somehow did.
---
Sightless stepped behind her, his voice low.
"You've killed its mother. That's enough blood for today."
"These snakes… they imprint on the first thing they see.
"To it, you're no slayer. You're its beginning."
---
The egg split clean.
A small white serpent slid out, slick with frost,
its scales shimmering like powdered moonlight.
It blinked slowly, eyes fixing on Lyne.
Unblinking. Innocent.
---
A whisper followed:
[You have acquired a Forgotten White Snake.]
---
Sightless crossed his arms, watching her.
"The mountain's cruel. But even it leaves behind remnants. Echoes."
---
Lyne stared at the creature coiled at her feet.
Tiny.
Warm.
Alive.
---
She exhaled sharply.
Not a sigh. Not relief. Just release.
"Fine," she muttered. "You live. I'll call you Sly."
---
The serpent slithered up her arm and curled at her neck—
a cold ribbon of silver, resting where warmth used to be.
---
Sightless gave the faintest nod.
"A fitting name. A forgotten child, walking beside the one who killed its past."
---
Together, they left the den.
Snow fell gently now—less cruel, less loud.
Lyne stepped forward, Sly resting silent.
Not as a weapon.
Not yet as a friend.
But as a witness.
---
A final whisper drifted through the wind:
[A Forgotten Arctic Fox is nearby.]