Visionless

The goddess leaned forward, an exasperated scowl twisting her serene face as she watched the events unfold in the mirror before her.

"Is this... a joke?" Her voice dripped with disdain, her gaze fixed on the scene playing out in her temple—a blatant mockery of her powers and domain. She rewound the image with a flick of her wrist, watching Adam's figure as he spoke with Ren in the alcove: "You know, Ren, sometimes..."

The goddess froze the image, her fingers curling slightly as tendrils of shimmering energy unfurled from her index finger and touched the mirror's surface. Slowly, the image morphed, revealing a layer previously obscured—a shadowed presence hovering just beyond sight, barely noticeable yet clearly deliberate.

Does this entity truly believe I wouldn't see through such an obvious ruse? Her thoughts seethed with irritation, but a wry smile tugged at her lips. It must have left those traces on purpose, either as a challenge or a test of my sight—underestimating me entirely.

Another wave of her hand, and mirrors flared into existence all around her, each capturing a moment of Adam's arrival in her temple, replaying each second with perfect clarity. She let them wash over her, scrutinizing every interaction, every expression on the faces of her followers. The goddess sighed. "This... this is not everything," she muttered, her voice a low, controlled rumble. "The creature has hidden more from me, hasn't it?"

Summoning her power, she expanded her focus, summoning more mirrors—each one showing her temple's grounds in meticulous detail, every single moment of Adam's presence carefully cataloged. It was there, buried under layers of charm and illusion—a series of subtle irregularities. She leaned closer, eyes narrowing as she caught the faintest hints of a message within the faces of her congregation, an eerie, almost mechanical quality to their expressions, the words they chose, the silences they held.

A thrill ran through her as she finally deciphered the cryptic, fragmented message embedded within: "I see you. Be wary."

The goddess chuckled, a low, dangerous sound, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "So," she murmured, her tone mocking yet eager, "it wants to play? Very well, then—I'll play."

For the first time in an age, she felt a spark of challenge. Her fingers danced over the mirrors, her powers surging with anticipation. She would uncover every trace, every secret, and she would answer this insolent creature with a reminder of why she was the goddess of truth and justice.

With a wave of her hand, the goddess unraveled the veils of illusion cloaking the scene in the alcove. She watched intently as the truth unfolded in the mirror, each hidden detail crystal clear before her.

____________

Adam let out a frustrated sigh as he wrung out his damp cloak. "What is with this rain? Isn't it supposed to be summer?" He muttered, huddling under a rocky alcove he'd found in the forest along his path to the distant city.

As he tried to shake the water from his clothes, movement caught his eye. A hulking figure emerged from the storm, trudging through the downpour toward his shelter. Adam squinted, barely able to make out the details through the sheet of rain, but as the stranger neared, he saw the man was swathed in a massive, oversized cloak that seemed to swallow him. A wide-brimmed hat sat low on his head, a cloth veil obscuring his face. The figure stopped just short of the alcove, his gaze fixed on Adam for a tense moment before he stepped inside, quietly claiming his own space under the meager shelter.

Adam's instincts immediately prickled. The stranger's silence was unnerving; despite his massive frame and rain-drenched clothes, the man moved with an unnatural stealth. Even the heavy rain seemed to dampen any sound he made, leaving only an eerie, muffled presence in his wake. Adam's hand drifted toward the small knife at his belt, his fingers brushing its hilt as he cast a wary eye on the cloaked figure, heart pounding.

Who is this guy? Could he be a survivor from the Black Claw gang? Adam's mind raced, memories of that bloody ambush flashing before him. His jaw tightened, and he squared his shoulders, prepared to bolt or fight at the slightest threat.

The stranger seemed to sense his suspicion, sighing in what might have been resignation. A low, rough voice broke the tension, almost a growl, as he spoke, each word deliberate, halting. "That's enough. I'm not here to harm you… just another traveler seeking shelter."

The voice, with its gruff, guttural tone, felt foreign—perhaps even alien to the language itself, as though it came from someone who rarely spoke or struggled with the words. The stranger's calm demeanor contrasted sharply with Adam's tense posture, and Adam's hand slowly slipped away from the knife, though he remained alert, every instinct on edge.

Adam and the cloaked stranger locked eyes in a heavy silence. Neither spoke; the tension hung thick between them, both waiting for the other to make a move.

Adam exhaled slowly, realizing he'd been holding his breath. His gaze remained fixed on the stranger, and a single thought pulsed in his mind: *Like hell I'd trust you.* 

The stranger must have sensed Adam's wariness. With a weary sigh, he lifted his hands, as if he were about to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration—but stopped midway. Instead, he took a deep breath, then did something that left Adam stunned. Without a word, the stranger turned his back to him, looking out into the storm-soaked forest. The gesture was one of utter disregard, as if he either trusted Adam completely or wasn't worried in the slightest about a possible attack.

Adam's instincts screamed at him. This was reckless—a taunt, even. His fingers itched with the need to feel in control of the situation, and almost before he realized it, his hand reached back to unhook his crossbow. Silently, he loaded a bolt, drawing the string taut, aiming it directly at the stranger's exposed back. Yet he hesitated, his finger lingering on the trigger.

The stranger didn't move, didn't flinch. Raindrops cascaded off the brim of his hat and cloak, pooling at his feet as he stood there, utterly exposed. Adam tightened his grip, feeling the tension of the crossbow string under his fingertips, but something kept him from letting it fly. The stranger's calm, almost indifferent stance was unnerving—either a statement of foolishness or a frightening display of confidence.

Seconds ticked by, the only sound the relentless patter of rain.

The cloaked stranger seemed oddly at ease, almost as if he was savoring the quiet of the rain-drenched forest. His broad back remained turned, unmoved by Adam's hesitation or the crossbow aimed his way.

Behind him, Adam cleared his throat, struggling to steady his voice. "Y-your name. What's your name?"

The stranger didn't turn, didn't so much as shift his stance. "You can call me Ren," he replied, voice low and rough, each word deliberate, almost unpracticed.

Adam's grip tightened on the crossbow, but curiosity got the better of his fear. "Why are you here?"

Ren's answer came as calm and steady as before, though his tone seemed to change, as if each syllable stretched beyond human familiarity. "I'm heading to the capital. Isn't that where you're going?"

Something about the way Ren spoke—deliberate, almost too slow—sent a shiver up Adam's spine, each word dripping with a cold, alien quality. It was like speaking to a creature trying to mimic human speech but missing just enough to make Adam's skin crawl.

*(What the hell have I gotten myself into?)* Adam thought, still clutching the trigger of his crossbow, tension coiling through his body.

"Capital? What are you talking about?" he demanded. "I'm headed toward a city." 

Ren tilted his head slightly, as if considering Adam's words. "Yes," he replied, calm and unbothered. "That's what I said. Capital. Looks like we're both heading there."

Adam narrowed his eyes, suspicion brewing. *(Is this guy messing with me? Trying to gaslight me or something?)* 

His voice rose, frustration slipping out. "No, you said *capital*. I said *city!*" 

Ren paused, then raised his hands in a calming gesture, giving his head a slight, deliberate shake. "Kid, you just said *capital* twice. Are you sure you didn't knock your head on something?" This time, his voice held a trace of concern, as if he genuinely wondered if Adam was all there.

Adam felt a chill creep up his spine. His mind was racing, and for the first time, he wondered if this stranger was playing a far more dangerous game than he'd first thought.

Adam's breathing was spiraling out of control. His heart was racing, his hands shaking. Meanwhile, Ren didn't seem to notice—or care. He hadn't even turned around. Adam's gaze darted around the alcove, looking for an escape, but Ren stood squarely in his path. Panic clawed at him as dark thoughts began to creep in.

*(Has he been following me since I left town? How would he even know where I was?)* Adam's mind scrambled for answers, but nothing made sense. *(I don't remember anyone like him… But why would I think he's even human?)* His teeth chattered as another horrifying thought struck him. *(No, it can't be—it's the monster from the forest!)* Adam remembered that nightmarish encounter, the creature with the eyes that had haunted his dreams. And now it was here, blocking his only way out.

Ren's voice broke through his frantic thoughts. "Kid… are you crying?" Ren's voice was thick with confusion, and for the first time, he turned to face Adam, only to see a shivering, tear-streaked kid staring at him like he was the devil himself.

Ren closed his eyes and sighed. "So… you figured it out." He spoke softly, trying to keep his voice steady, though it still carried that odd growl. "Look, I'm not here to hurt you. Whatever you've heard about us… we're not monsters. Just because we look different doesn't make us evil." He slowly rose to his feet, lifting his hands in a peaceful gesture as he approached Adam, taking careful, measured steps.

When he was close enough, he crouched down and took off his mask. "See?" he said, revealing his face—a broad, tiger-like face, with fur striped in shades of orange and black. His teeth were sharp, his muzzle wide. "I'm just a big ol' cat," Ren said, his tone softening as he reached out a hand. "I'm just trying to get to the capital, like you. So how about we start over? My name's Ren. And yours is…?"

Ren attempted a friendly smile, though his teeth—designed more for tearing than smiling—made it look more like a snarl. *(Humans love smiles, right? This should calm him down a little.)*

But instead of calming, Adam's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed, unconscious.

Ren's ears flattened as he muttered in his own language, "What the hell, am I that ugly or something?" He shook his head in exasperation. The damn church and its lies—they'd spread so much fear about beastfolk that they'd turned people against him before they'd even met him. Well, he supposed, he couldn't exactly leave the poor kid out here in the rain after scaring him senseless. With a resigned sigh, Ren gently lifted Adam, muttering about the ignorance of humans as he carried him further into the alcove, settling in to wait for him to come to.

__________

{.... that was it?} the goddess said in confusion{ that was what was hidden from me!!!?} now with anger in her voice{racism?!!!}