3/19/2026, 9:28 PM
She is well acquainted with the dreams and the Visitor by now. Solulfur bares her teeth at him in lieu of greeting. She has learned it is not his fault entire that this world is so set on her destruction. And yet, too much of the blame lies with the ghost to spare him her ire. Still, these visions are vital. She watches coldly, the empathetic connection trying and failing to convince her heart to flutter with sympathy.
The air itself splits like a wound, revealing three new paths to walk. Solulfur can only choose one. Gold eyes level themselves at the Visitor.
She is not blind to the doomed circumstances that arranged themselves to cause this tragedy. But she is not blind to the lasting consequences it has wrought on her life, her loved ones. She cannot change what happened. Punishing the Visitor changes nothing. The only thing Solulfur can do is step through the Third Door and put an end to this. A slight nod is the only goodbye she offers the Visitor, before she steps through the portal.
The magic is suffocating here. The Bound One wails and snarls, reminding her of the maddened rage that gripped the Reykblindur. But it is the madness of centuries of agony. The magic had formed and reformed him, as the Visitor said; like a warped version of the transcendental passing-on her Afi had experienced. Is the Bound wolf even alive - or a tortured spirit? If he is, will he cause more damage free than if Solulfur simply aims to kill him? She cannot make the wrong decision. If she does, it puts the lives of all those she loves on the line.
The Sun-wolf thinks of her ancestors, the spirits that watch over her and will one day welcome her into their number. She must prove herself worthy of their ranks; live her life with honor, with strength.
But Solulfur knows there are many kinds of strength. Her own strength is only partly rooted in the power of her fangs. A coward only uses their words to fight. A fool only uses their brawn to control. The Black Sun uses both.
There is strength in mercy, especially now, and it is a hard choice for the fra Nordri. She would prefer to stain the blue-hued stone wine-red with the Bound One’s blood. She would prefer to hear the death gurgle to know in her heart with absolute assurance that she is at last safe. That her closest comrades are at last secure. But even if there is no Visitor, no Bound one, no Mythris magic to cause calamity - danger will always find them.
This spirit deserves freedom. Solulfur does not think of what he deserves. She thinks of what marks her as worthy, to her. She thinks of what will give her the best chance of a future without abandoning the values of her heritage, and the values of those she’d come to cherish. It didn’t matter what the Bound One deserved. But Solulfur deemed, with reluctance, that she felt it worthy of her time to risk freedom over bloodshed. She slipped her shoulders beneath one of the chains and began to try to pull it free of the stone.
