An Inheritance of Fire

Selerim woke to an unfamiliar sight. Thinking it some trick of the mind, he rubbed his eyes, then blinked when nothing changed. It took him a moment to recognize his sister’s room. His chest tightened as reality settled, shattering the last hope he’d had that everything had been a dream. He closed his eyes again. More than anything, he needed a moment to think. To take stock of the situation. Selerim took a deep breath. It did nothing to ease the squeezing pressure that strangled his chest.

His mother and sister were safe. Far away, but safe. Nyx was still with him. He had a weapon. That was all he truly needed. Everything else, he could scavenge on the way to Sinalia… no. Not Sinalia. Wherever the outsiders– the elves– needed to go. Selerim clenched his teeth. It meant staying away from his family, but he had to know. Corvus had entrusted him with that.

No matter how anxious Selerim was, he knew Gwyn and his mother were safe in the city. His mother would come looking for him, though. He was certain of that. I need to leave a message. He would have to hide it. Somehow. Opening his eyes, he tentatively stretched his limbs out, certain that last night’s posture would leave him sore, but there was no pain. Selerim reached for Verad’s sword as he stood. As his fingers closed around the leather-wrapped handle, his reflection stared back at him.

There was something about the sight– of his own reflection, trapped and isolated– that jarred him. In a sudden fit of anger, Selerim hurled the weapon as hard as he could. It struck the wall blade-first, quivering as it bit into the charred wood. He stood there, panting as he wrestled with the seething rage. Once it subsided, he pulled Verad’s sword from the wall. Blackened splinters fell to the ground as it came free. Selerim hung it at his waist, unwilling to look at the glossy blade.

The floor crunched under his feet. He’d seen the damage, but it hadn’t truly sunk in. The table’s cracked surface bit into his hand as he righted it. Carved by his father, it had been misshapen and uneven; but something Selerim’s family held dear. Ending days with dinnertime stories had been their way of including a family member.

“I’m sorry father,” whispered Selerim. His family would be fine. They had to be. Gripping the table’s edge with both hands, he moved it to Gwyn’s room and gingerly placed it on its side. Selerim reached for a knife, but his fingers closed around empty air.

With a sigh, he drew Verad’s sword. It was too long to control precisely, but it would be good enough. Selerim gripped the blade’s flat, careful not to cut himself on the razor-sharp edge. He held the handle up with his other hand, propping it up to better control the point. He already knew what message to leave behind. He’d just have to hope his family would see it. Splinters dug into his palms as he lifted the table again, moving it to the corner so that its face was pressed against the wall. It would have to be enough.

Nyx landed on Selerim’s shoulder as he stepped out. She seemed calmer, now, with yesterday’s excitement gone. “Do you know where they are?” Selerim asked as she stepped onto his hand. Nyx tilted her head. Just as he was about to repeat the question, she kicked up a small gale of wind and shadow.

Selerim followed in her wake, trying to keep his eyes away from the rubble and wreckage. It was easier this time, but the silence still mad him shiver. Each footstep felt like an eternity until, finally, Nyx landed on a nearby home.

Vane woke to the smell of charcoal and ash. Stricken by a moment of panic, he reached for his sword. His heart raced as the memories came rushing back; dredged up by the recent slaughter. Vane forced his breath to steady. Those times were behind him.

His whole body was sore. He’d slept in an awkward position, with his back to the wall and one knee propped up on his weapon. Viria was across the roo, asleep in the one bed that had survived. She’d yet to remove her disguise; each breath disturbed her long black hair. Vane grimaced. That time would come soon enough. He made his way out of the room, careful not to wake his niece. Weapon-made marks covered the walls. A muted sense of grief swelled as Vane ran his hands over the deep gashes. There had been a family here, just days ago.

What if it really is our fault? He wondered momentarily. There’s nothing I can do about it now. He pushed that concern to the side. His thoughts were better spent elsewhere. If they were here for us, who sent them? There were plenty of people who might want Viria dead, but none knew of Cress. He’d made sure of that.

So who, then? Try as he might, Vane couldn’t think of a single person who met both criteria. He sighed. There were more immediate problems. It had been a long journey here, and he was certain the one back would be longer. What time is it? Even after nearly two years, it was hard to tell. The boy told them to be ready. He wouldn’t just leave– would he?

That fear evaporated as Vane opened the door. The hollow stood just a few steps away. His face whitened and he reached for his sword, only to relax a moment later. His Wyrd was perched on his shoulder. They stared at each other for an awkward moment until the boy broke it.

“You’re awake.”

“Just me. Viria is still asleep.”

“... Do you want to do this somewhere else?”

Vane nodded and the boy stepped back, beckoning for him to follow. They passed three more crumbling homes before stopping. Vane broke the silence this time. “Your name is Selerim, right?” The boy– Selerim– nodded. “Viria. Is that your daughter’s name?”

“Niece,” Vane corrected. “But yes.”

“... Is she ok?”

“Considering you held a blade to her throat? She’s fine.”

“... I wasn’t going to hurt her. I just needed to make sure you were telling the truth.” The hollow paused. “You don’t know who those people were?” The Reaver on his shoulder leaned forward. “I don’t.”

Vane shivered as Selerim studied him. His violet eyes were as unnerving as they were unnatural. Vane hadn’t noticed it before, but there were two distinct hues. The pupil was darker, and the iris lighter.

“I think you’re telling me the truth. And so does Nyx. But I need to know: why were you here?”

“... We were exiled.”

The hollow’s eyes hardened. “Why?”

Vane hesitated. He had no desire to antagonize or lie to their would-be escort, but… He shook his head. “It’s not my place to tell you. We’re no danger to you,” he quickly added. “I can promise you that. The Reaver on Selerim’s shoulder shuddered.

“... Alright.”

Vane blinked. “That’s it?”

“You were guests. I can’t just leave you here. Are you ready to leave?”

“No. I wanted to let Viria sleep. It’s going to be a long journey.”

“Come with me, then.”

Vane followed as Selerim walked off. He took in the surrounding destruction as they made their way through the razed village. The gloom of Umbra seemed more oppressive now than before; darker and more distinct. Some of the half-destroyed buildings poked out of the hazy shade, as if the shadows were slowly laying claim to what was left behind.

Vane fixed his gaze ahead. Dwelling on it would only make the journey more difficult. Selerim stood just in front. The hollow’s posture stayed rigid as he walked, and he remained wary of the half-broken buildings. What kind of upbringing did he have? “Here.” Just as Vane was about to ask about their destination, the boy stopped walking. One of the few still-intact buildings stood just ahead. It was distinct from all the others they’d passed; constructed from stone instead of wood. One of its walls was covered in blood.

“You’ll need supplies. There’s no weapons, though.” Vane’s jaw nearly dropped as he followed Selerim inside. Hearts spilled out of crates stacked upon crates. Reaver pelts of all shapes, sizes, and colors hung from the opposite wall.

The rest of the building was dedicated to storing food. Vane watched as Selerim strode over to the messily stored Hearts. “Your village collected all of this?” The hollow pulled one of the crystals free.

“You said you don’t know who attacked us, right?”

“I don’t.”

“I believe you. But,” Selerim tossed the Heart to Vane. “These are the only valuable things in the whole village. And they looked untouched. So what were they here for?” Danger crept into his voice. “You’re the only person with any connections outside the village. Were they here for you?”

Vane stayed silent as his desire to protect Viria warred with his honor.

“I’ll still help you get back.”

“... It’s possible.” Even though I don’t know how. He could practically see the gears turning in Selerim’s head. Just as Vane was about to say something more, the hollow shook his head and adjusted his posture. “If your people attacked mine, there will be a price to pay.” His voice was firm.

Vane nodded despite the implicit threat. There was no room to protest. “Is that all you wanted to say?” Selerim nodded. “Then, are you just going to leave those behind?” Asked Vane, pointing at the Hearts.

“You can’t eat meat, can you? I’m going to carry as much food as I can. You should too. If you’re thinking of coming back for them…” Vane shook his head. “Your people paid their price in blood many times over. I have no intent of laying claim to them. But if you’re willing to trust me, I can help.”

“How? Are you going to carry them all the way back to the human kingdom for me?”

“It’s easier to show you.”

Vane removed his bracelet. The polished wood shone blue as the interwoven spell hummed to life and an invisible, ethereal gate opened. He swung its gaping maw over the stockpiled good, which vanished, crates and all.

He released the spell and turned to Selerim. “I can carry the Hearts, too. There’s more than enough space. Whether you stay in Vasoria or travel to Sinalia, you’ll need money.” The hollow’s expression was unreadable as he peered down at the bracelet. “I thought that was for your disguise.”

“It has more than one spell.”

“Your niece’s, too?”

“Yes.”

Selerim hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll stay. Not… not forever. Just until you find out who did this. And then we’ll never see each other again.”

“Alright.”

Selerim watched as the Hearts disappeared in a flash of light. “That’s it?” He asked. It was still hard to grasp. The elf nodded. “That’s it. Do you want me to take the pelts, too?” Selerim turned his attention towards the hanging furs. He pointed to two smaller ones. “Leave those out.”

Another flash of light, and the rest vanished. “I’ll make sure you receive a fair price for everything.” A pause. “Is there anything else? If not, I’m going to help Viria prepare.

“That’s it.”

The elf left without another word. Selerim sighed as some of the tension drained, then flinched as something long and dark poked into his vision. “Nyx,” he scolded gently, reaching up to grab the duskwing. She stayed perfectly still as Selerim grabbed her with one hand. “You can’t do that.” He looked down at his Wyrd. She hadn’t reacted to anything. He thought the elf was being sincere, but… I didn’t get his name, Selerim realized. He looked back.

Being able to see the storehouse’s walls were odd. I’ll come back for the pelts later. There was one other place Selerim wanted to check before they left. He held Nyx as he walked through Cress this time, certain there were no stragglers left behind. It took a few minutes to reach Varen’s forge. Only rubble remained.

Selerim sighed. I knew it was a long shot, but still. Just as he was about to turn away, Nyx squirmed out of his hands. She landed among the broken rocks, pushing at them with her beak. Selerim’s heartbeat quickened. “What is it?” He asked, kneeling by the duskwing. Her feet scrabbled uselessly against a chunk of stone. Pulling it free revealed a small tunnel; a faint red light glowed from its depth. Reaching in, Selerim’s fingers closed around something smooth and warm. He pulled it free, and his breath caught as he looked down at the object: a large cube. It felt like metal but looked like crystal.

Even after being forged by Varen, the Heart had kept its rosy color. Flecks of dark red light tumbled as Selerim turned it in his hands. Varen must have just finished forging it. Tears formed as he held it to his chest.

It was the last thing Cress would ever give him.