Gitano

The moment she raises her crystal ball, Gitano foresees danger.

The squad is escorting a group of rescued Infected to Rhodes Island's transport. After the intense battle, everyone is visibly exhausted. She reminds her teammates to watch out for an ambush, but not a moment after she finishes, and before her teammates had time to react, the ambushers have already emerged from behind the boulders.

The very next moment, the fog that clouds the barrenland is immediately split asunder by the blinding flash of Originium Arts, forcing the ambushers to take a step back.

It seems casting the Arts was too much for Gitano to bear, giving her a spell of dizziness and a burning sensation at the source of her infection. 'You can't keep using your Originium Arts like that.' The advice she got from her tribespeople years ago echoes in her ear. 'Your body can't withstand it anymore. You'll fall ill if you keep casting them.'

Nonetheless, she has pushed herself to her limits in the tundra more times than she can count. With the responsibilities she shoulders, she's never been one to fear falling ill.

Some time later, she faintly overhears two men talking in hushed voices.

'Shh, It's okay. She fell asleep because she's tired. Her infection hasn't gotten worse. Don't worry.'

'We have her to thank for reacting so quickly, otherwise we wouldn't have made it back in one piece.'

'How did she foresee the ambush, though? If she's really able to peek into the future, wouldn't she also know that, '

'Don't be stupid. She herself often says that destiny is something that can be changed.'

'Will you really resist the guidance of fate itself?' All those years ago, her tribespeople implored her. 'We need to turn around. We don't want to leave our homeland, and we've already paid a dear price.'

But the young fortune teller kept leading them onward.

The Rhodes Island transport pulls out of the site with the team, after their successful rescue mission. The Elafia holds tightly onto her crystal ball as she sleeps on the stretcher. She dreams of the black forest back home and the bitter, salty snowdrops, as well as the silhouettes of the mountain chains peeking above the horizon. She's never turned around, nor can she ever go back.