Yseulte took a deep breath, and waded into the sea.

The grasses swayed and twined together as gentle sighs of wind whispered through the stalks in soft whistles. She gritted her teeth, despising the oppressive force that seemed to suffocate her with every step closer to the Heart of Helovia. This raging sea of grass that stood far taller the Yseulte made her feel insignificant and hopelessly lost. She understood the riddle clearly now, as she stole through the shadows, and wondered, indeed, if there was ever to be an end in sight.

The air felt warmer on her skin and tasted ashy and scorched the back of her throat. She glanced up past the sways stalks of golden grass, and the Never Star still shined coldly down on her. She wagered she was still a good distance from the Heart, and she was taking the journey through the quiet, murmuring sea carefully.

She moved like a wraith—silent as a shooting star arcing across the night sky. Every so often she would pause, listening intently to her surroundings. But it was all for nothing, as she could only hear her heart drumming in her chest and the sighs of the grasses all around her. She waited for the wolves to ambush her, as they surely would.

Osiris would not be there to save her, this time. This time, Yseulte was alone. And how she hated the silence that solitude brought with it. She wished he were still here, he and his violet eyed dragon. But she could not risk foolish actions that would most certainly condemn the cub—her cub—to death.