An Inheritance of Fire

The first day of traveling passed without incident.

“We’ll be stopping soon,” Suli said. “We stop for eight hours. Change watch every hour— with the exception of Tasha. She’s too young.” She paused, trying to discern some visible reaction from Ember, but their newest member just nodded. For the first time, she noticed he wore a large pack on his back.

“Here,” she said, reaching for it. “Let me—”

He stepped away— and reached for his waist. Suli froze. She stood there for a moment longer, hand outstretched, as a hint of danger gathered between them. “Your bag,” she said stiffly, carefully keeping her voice level.

“I was going to offer to carry it for you.” She raised one hand, showing him her storage ring. “One of the perks of traveling with a mage.”

Suli shivered as the silence settled. Even with Ember’s face completely hidden, it was obvious he was taking her measure.

“It’s fine.” His voice was hardly audible. “I prefer to carry it. It caused problems last time I traveled with a mage.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Ember’s shoulders seemed to relax. “I’ll take first—”

“No,” Suli interrupted. “Not the first night.” She let her voice soften. “It’s easy enough to guess your story, but none of us know you. There’s no trust between us yet. Tomorrow, if you’d like, you can take first watch.”

He fell silent for another moment, then nodded once.

“Good. You should camp with us. Rase will be cooking— whatever he whips up will be better than what’s in your pack.” With that, Suli turned around and made her way back to the camp.

Rase and Naru had already started a fire; it’s flickering fingers danced across the earth, scattering light as she stepped into its midst.

“I see you’ve brought our new friend with us,” Rase said, not even looking up from the pot he was tending. He was making a stew of some sort; the scent of grilled meat and vegetables wafted up— right up until he replaced the lid. “Dinner will still be a little bit of time.”

Suli looked back. Ember was still some ways away; each of his long strides were slow and languid. The pitch-black cloak he wore seemed to swallow the firelight, leaving his deep violet mask the only visible thing.

“He seemed to consider his options,” Rase said, noticing her confusion. “I don’t think we should expect any trouble,” he continued, “but you should be careful.”

“… and why is that?”

He raised one eyebrow. “Which one are you questioning?”

“Both.”

Rase stood and dusted his knees off. “A hunch. Your treatment of him is fair, but may be too harsh regardless,” he admonished lightly.

Suli looked at him. “I thought you were no leader?”

He laughed softly. “And that is why elected you as ours.”

Naru grumbled his agreement from the side. Though as large as two men— and stronger than both— he was a man of few words. Tasha, already asleep in his lap, stirred. Her crimson eyes opened for the briefest of moments— and then closed again.

Suli smiled softly. Even in the darkness, these moments of warmth stood out.

“Have you decided who keeps first watch?”

She shook her head.

“Then allow me.” Rase leaned down to retrieve his sword. It had a slim, narrow blade, designed for stabbing instead of slashing. Though surprisingly durable, it was still prone to breaking. Suli carried two spares in her ring. More than enough for the short trip. “Take it off the fire in a few minutes and let it simmer.”

His husband nodded, and within a few paces, only Rase’s back was visible against the fire’s orange light.

“Will he be enough?” Ember asked as he stepped into the makeshift camp.

Suli nodded and took a seat next to the fire. Her legs ached in protest. This much travel normally would have posed no problem, but after so much inactivity, she would have to re-adapt.

And it was sure to be a long— and tiring— process.

“Rase is experienced. Only a handful of Reavers can sneak up on him. And those sorts of monsters won’t be anywhere near here.”

Ember nodded once, seemingly satisfied with that answer. He drew his sword as he moved to sit, laying it flat over both knees.

“Where did you get that?” Suli asked softly. It was hard not to be intrigued by the weapon. It was irregular in more ways color alone. It was abnormally long and thin; so thin she feared it would snap on the first strike.

It was perfectly straight, save for where handle and blade met. Though cut from the same piece of wood, they were connected by a gnarled knot in place of a guard. The weapon itself was perfectly straight.

“… It was a gift.” Ember’s voice was broken up by the crackling of the fire.

“A gift?” Suli asked incredulously. Elven weapons were common, but she’d never seen one colored differently. She didn’t even know that was possible. That left a very short list of who could’ve bequeathed such a gift.

He nodded once.

What are you up to, Worrick?

Suli pushed her worries to the side— for now. She would have a talk with her brother once this finished. She flinched as Naru leaned forward to retrieve the pot. He grabbed it by the handle, apparently unbothered by the heat, setting it just outside the fire’s grasp.

“It will still take some time,” he rumbled. “Continue your conversation.”

She bit her lip, unsure how to even continue the conversation. “I’m sorry if I seemed harsh,” Suli started slowly. “I’m still new to this.” She tightened her grip on her staff as she remembered Lorel. Their previous leader. Those eight months had started off much like this, until he’d broken the ice.

“But our safety comes first. Everything is different out here.”

Ember shifted. “I know.”

“I’m sorry if I came off as too harsh,” Suli continued. “Everyone out here has their own circumstances. And if you’re joining our group as a solo, it’s obvious enough what yours are.” She paused, giving him a moment to process her words.

“Whatever happened to lead up to your being here… I’m sorry.”

He shifted again, this time turning his head to look at her.

Suli shivered. Facing the smooth, seamless mask was chilling.

“… Don’t apologize for something you played no part in.” This time, not even the mask could strip the emotion from his words. There was pain, grief— and anger.”

She took a deep breath, but before Suli could say anything more, Naru reached for the pot yet again. The scent of meat, vegetables and spices wafted out, making her mouth water.

“Food is ready,” he rumbled, slightly louder than before. “Someone fetch Naru. The dark and Reavers will wait while we eat.” Tasha stirred awake again, but this time, her eyes widened at the

“I ate while we were walking,” Ember said. His voice had returned to the same flat, impersonal tone as before. “I’ll keep watch and wake someone when it’s time to switch.”

Suli stiffened. “No,” she bristled. “I’ll—”

“Suli,” Naru rumbled, interrupting her. “If he wants to keep first watch, let him.”

She stared at him, dumbstruck.

Ember nodded. “Thank you.” He stood, using his sword as a makeshift walking stick. He practically disappeared into the surrounding darkness after just two steps.

“What was that about?” Suli asked, keeping her voice low.

“You stepped somewhere you shouldn’t have,” came his low reply.

“I…” she trailed off. “You’re right.”

He nodded once, and that was the end of it.

Rase came back at just that moment. “Oh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow upon spotting the open pot. “I thought it was a bit too early. Did something happen?”

“Suli’s mouth got the better of her,” Naru rumbled.

“I don’t know why you elected me leader,” she grumbled. “You both have more experience than me.”

Rase smiled as he sat down, replacing the pot in the fire and stirring it a couple of times. “He and I may have more experience with people,” he said softly. “But that experience stems from a very limited view of the world.

She scowled. “I hate when you talk like this.”

His smiled widened. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Naru seemed to handle the newcomer just fine.”

Rase chuckled. “He’s more like us than you, despite what his weapon and garb might indicate.”

“Aren’t we more likely to come across people like him?” Suli pointed out.

“Perhaps,” the black-haired man acquiesced. “But I would much rather our smartest member represent us. You dealt with the merchant beforehand, no? Just like Lorel used to do.”

She scowled at the mention of their dead companion. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” Rase chuckled. “It’s not.”

“And you’re the most well-spoken person I’ve ever met.”

He chuckled again. “Then you’ve never heard an elf speak.” His voice was light, but there was an implicit warning in those words.

No further.

Suli grumbled, but just threaded essence into her ring he reached towards her, palm upturned. A small collection of bowls and spoons appeared in his outstretched hand. He ladled stew into the first; that went to Tasha. She set to eating immediately, scooping the stew out in neat, clean spoonfuls.

Rase handed the next to Suli. She took it gratefully, savoring the warmth that seeped through her hands into the rest of her body. Though not quite winter, the cold was always more bitter in Umbra.

The taste of spiced meat flooded her senses at the first bite; Rase really was an excellent cook. He filled his owl bowl before filling the last— a larger one meant for Naru. Before long, they’d scraped the pot clean.

“Water, please.”

Suli complied. Rase poured a small amount on the fire, then filled the pot with it before placing it back on the dying flame.

“I hope our new member joins us next time,” he commented.

She nodded sleepily; a side-effect of the warm meal. “Next time.” Suli pulled their bedding from her ring next. The space in it was limited; housing mostly food, water, and a handful of spare weapons. With Lorel’s absence, though, there was room for more.

“How are you all feeling?” She asked, trying— in vain— to rub the sleepiness from her eyes.

“A touch more fatigued than I’d expected,” Rase answered with a yawn. “But that is to be expected. It’s been quite some time.” He reached for his bedding. “Let us sleep. We’ll need our strength for tomorrow.”

Suli nodded. The dying embers faded further as they ducked under their covers. She was sure that Naru, at least, would remain awake for some time— just in case Ember tried anything.

Selerim paused mid-stride as Nyx landed on his shoulder. “Asleep?” He asked softly. She tilted her head in response.

“… Then keep watch.”

She vanished in a flicker of deep shadow.

He looked back towards where their camp was. It was dark, now, but that made it easier for him to see. Rather than the blinding pyre from before, their camp only gave off the faintest of light.

The merchant’s carriages, three in total, were parked on the path’s side. They were a source of great confusion for him: Suli had a ring, just like Viria’s bracelet. So why the carriages?

Selerim pushed that question to the side. It, along with his others, would all be answered with time. And even if not, it was of no consequence to him. He reached up to remove his mask, reveling in the cool air that washed over his face.

Wearing it while traveling had proven very different to just wearing it. Adjusting would take some time, and there was very little he could do about it now.

Especially with something more important at hand.

Selerim reached for one of his knives, holding it in front of his eyes to inspect it. It was the first metal weapon he’d used, aside from a single bout with Valandor in the elven kingdom.

He didn’t trust it. It was lighter, less solid than Saya’s daggers— and he was sure the blade would bend the first time it met Reaver hide.

But for his own skin? It was more than enough.

Taking a deep breath, Selerim cupped it in one palm— and dragged it across his flesh. He shivered as it sliced cleanly through his hand. For all the injuries he’d received over the years, this sensation was still new.

Blood pooled around the metal blade, sizzling as it dripped to the ground below.

This was the other reason he’d sought a return to the dark. The same magic— Selerim mentally hesitated at that word— that saved his life in Cress was changing. He’d first noticed it during his fight with Vanis.

Moments before snapping and burning her in half.

And that, in truth, was the real reason. Fire was violent. Indiscriminate. How could he protect his family if he was just as much a threat? Selerim dug the knife deeper into his palm, forcing himself to ignore the pain.

Once satisfied, he let the dagger fall to the floor.

There was only one real answer: he had to control it.

And that meant receiving injuries. He’d experimented a few times, but just barely. The risk to Gwyn and his mother was too great.

Blood gave way to flame as Selerim let it fall. Watching it so closely was still strange; though it came from him, seeing his blood turn to fire was… unsettling.

He still remembered how Viria looked, shrouded in the color of magic. She’d offered to teach him what little she knew, but he’d refused. In part for her own safety, in part because of he was scared.

Maybe that was to his detriment, but Selerim had no regrets. This was something unique to his people. It required a different approach.

He grimaced.

Thoughts of Viria always brought thoughts of Veile with them. Despite being two distinct— and very different— people, they looked too similar.

Auvun.

An unknown name, supposedly belonging to the Reaver he’d feasted on.

But it was his now. A part of him. And he would learn to control it. No matter what it took.

A sheet of fire raised in front of him. It twisted and writhed with a life of his own before splitting off into a single, small stream that flowed back towards the injury. This was confusing in its own right— there was always more fire than blood.

Within moments, not a trace remained of either.

Selerim retrieved his dagger, replaying the scene step-by-step. It told him nothing he didn’t already knew, but he’d expected this.

It was a starting point. Nothing more.

He shivered again at the sensation of a blade cutting through his flesh.

Nyx swept through she shadows. She felt at home in their tenebrous grasp; lighter. More agile.

Not that it mattered.

Very few things were capable of catching her.

She flared her wings as something stepped over the web of woven shadow.

Nyx dove into the shadows, its cold fingers rustling through her feathers.

It only a moment to find them.

Four-leggeds.