An Inheritance of Fire

Vane’s heart dropped as the Reaver’s deadly tails curled down. Another instant, and Viria would die. He seized the essence within his body, giving it form. But in his desperation, he used too much too quickly. Pain erupted in his arm, snaking up his chest and wrapping around his throat. No! He silently cried. I swore–

The last thing he saw before slipping away was a skewered silhouette.

At first, the only constant was the darkness. He could tell time was passing, but not how much. Then came the pain, radiating through the haze of unconsciousness and crippling his mind.

Vane blinked–

Blinked?

Is that right?

Probably not.

– And found himself trapped in the past, an unwilling spectator to his own memory. Vajra sat in front of him. His brother’s hands were gaunt, and his eyes, once emerald green, were dull. “What do you mean?” Vane heard himself ask.

“Exactly what I said,” Varja answered. “I’m going to die soon.”

“Why? Assassins? Betrayal?”

Vajra shook his head.

“I am tired, brother. Even if this war were to end tomorrow, it would surely kill me.”

“Have you lost your will to live so easily? What of your daughters?”

“Don’t bring them into this.” Some of the old fire returned to Vajra’s eyes. “They have no part in th is. This war will kill me; I know this for certain.”

Vane growled. “Why tell me? What am I supposed to do? Watch helplessly as you wither and die?”

Vajra laughed. “Such fire, brother. I suppose that’s why, between the two of us, you are the warrior.”

Vane scowled. “Please stop speaking in such riddles. Why did you ask to see me? You’re not the sentimental type. Not anymore.”

“Aww. You spoke so highly of me just a moment ago.”

“Just get to the point.”

“Watch after the girls.”

“You know I will.”

“Promise me.” Vajra pulled a steel knife from his robes and placed it on the table between them. “I ask for your oath.”

Vane stared at the metallic blade. “Why?” He asked.

“Does a parent need a reason to guarantee their child’s safety?”

“You’re not the emotional type.”

Vajra’s look turned contemplative. “Our world’s fate will depend on their choices.”

Vane scowled. “Another one of your premonitions?”

“In a way. Then again, every parent thinks the weight of the world rests on their child’s shoulders.” Vajra laughed again, looking genuinely mirthful for the first time. “Don’t look so distraught. You and I have had our differences throughout the years…”

“That may be true,” Vane interjected. “But even if we’re not close anymore, I’ve always thought of you as my one and only brother.”

Vajra smiled. “I’m glad to hear that, truly. It may be more than I deserve.”

“Why do you think that?”

Vajra’s expression darkened again. “I dare not imagine what you’ve seen during your time on the battlefield, brother, but participating as a member of the Council grates at the soul.” He closed his eyes as he spoke. “I know not how many died at my command; not the enemy, nor our own people.”

When Vajra opened his eyes again, a hate-fueled fire burned in their stead. “Worse, yet, our people use these deaths as bargaining chips to curry favor with one another, all for the sake of growing their own influence. I thought our beliefs, our unity, would insulate us from such madness. I was sorely mistaken. My belief in our people is shaken.” He leaned forward. “Mark my words, Vane.”

Vane’s blood ran cold.

“This war will have no victor.” His voice was thick with hatred. “Every death since the beginning of this war has been meaningless.”

Vane bristled. His voice came out as a growl “That sentiment is a disservice to everyone who has died so far.”

Vajra laughed. “Be that as it may, it is also–” he coughed, and blood leaked from his mouth. “The truth, brother dear.”

Vane stood. “I won’t sit here while you besmirch the dead.” Standing, he turned to walk away– then froze as his brother uttered a single word.

“Stop.” There was a commanding tone in Vajra’s voice. Vane complied instinctively. Recovering, he turned back. What is it?” He asked icily.

Vajra gestured to the table. “Your oath.”

“... Even as a Grovetender, you can’t order me to give it.

“It’s not an order, and I dare not ask this as a Grovetender. I’m asking you as your brother.”

Vane gritted his teeth. “Fine,” he spat. Walking back, he snatched the knife from the table and dragged it across his palm. Crimson blossomed as his skin burned from the touch of metal.

“Happy?”

“Thank you.”

Vajra died a week later.

It took another week for Vane to find the note.

Vane gasped as the conscious world faded back into view. It wasn’t like waking up– rather, reality slowly filled the void of sleep. How long have I been out? Vane slowly wiggled his fingers. The slight motion sent waves of pain up his arm. He groaned, quickly abandoning the thought of sitting up. I messed up. And in the worst possible way; even if he were alive now, a rupture would never heal. Not out here.

Vane’s body screamed in protest as he raised one hand in front of his eyes. The scars had already formed. Long and thin, they branched erratically, starting from his fingertips and reaching as far up as he could see.

It looked like black lightning, or perhaps a black spiderweb. The ones on his palm were split by a lighter, straighter scar.

“You’re awake?”

A low voice asked.

Vane turned his head to see Selerim standing there. His armor was gone; in its place was a simple shirt.

“Vi–” Vane’s voice cracked.

“Hold on.”

Selerim dipped out of view for a moment, “Drink. You’ve been out for three days.” He pressed a waterskin to Vane’s lips, who drank gratefully.

“Viria. Where is she?” He asked after slaking his thirst.

Selerim nodded. “I’ll get her.” And dipped out of view again. Vane felt the ground tremble a moment later.

“Uncle!” Viria’s head popped into view. “How do you feel?” Her light green was short, barely reaching her shoulders.

Vane’s body screamed as he forced himself to sit upright. “I’ve been better.” He coughed, and Viria handed him the waterskin. How long was I out?”

“Three days.”

“What happened? I saw you kill one, and then…” Bile rose in Vane’s throat as he recalled the image of someone skewed on the Reaver’s tails. “I thought you died.”

Viria shook her head. “Selerim blocked it. Remember what we saw the first time, back in Cress?” She swallowed. “It… It happened again. And his wounds, they just… healed. He says he doesn’t know what it is.”

Vane winced as he shifted position. “I supposed we should be grateful. How bad are the scars?” He asked, dreading the answer.

“They reach up to your neck.”

“Could’ve been worse.” Vane drained his waterskin. As Viria reached to take it from her, he noticed a bandage on her hand. “What happened?” He asked, grabbing her hand to inspect it. “Sorry,” Vane apologized as she winced.

“I made an oath.”

“What?!”

Viria bit her lip. “He saved me,” she said defensively. She looked up, and when her eyes met Vane’s, they were full of defiance. “And do you really think they had nothing to do with this?” There was an anger in her voice that he’d never heard before.

Vane frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Viria’s looked down. “You almost died.” Her voice trembled. “You’re all I have. If you die, then I’ll be all alone.” The defeated tone in her voice dredged up emotions from the past.

Vane forced them down. “I understand.” He reached out to cup Viria’s face in one hand. “Just remember: your voice…”

“Carries a greater weight. I know.”

Despite the pain, Vane smiled. “Good.” He looked around. “Where’s Selerim? I need to talk to him.”

Viria looked confused at that but went to fetch him anyway. “I’ll tend to the fire.”

The hollow knelt in front of Vane. Though fierce, his lavender eyes looked calmer now. That was a good sign. Pain surged as Vane adjusted his body again. Ignoring it, he bowed his head. “Thank you. For saving Viria”

Selerim visibly hesitated. “You’re welcome.” The apprehension in his voice was clear. That was all Vane needed to hear.

“You can tell, can’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“... I know the look in your eyes,” Selerim said softly. “It’s the look of a creature on the verge of death.”

Good. That would make this easy.

“You won’t be able to travel with me like this.” Vane raised a hand as he spoke. “This won’t heal until we reach the elven kingdom..” He saw recognition flicker on the boy’s face. “Exactly,” he whispered. “You’re going to have to leave me.” To his surprise, Selerim shook his head.

“She’ll never do that. And I already promised her that I wouldn’t.”

“You know better than that,” he rasped. “Even if I recover enough to move, I’ll just slow you down. You might be able to hunt for food, but we can’t. It’ll run out sooner or later– especially if I’m still with you.”

Selerim shook his head.

“Even if I were willing to leave you, you’re the only one who knows the way.”

Your Wyrd will suffice, and you know it,” Vane growled. “What happened? I thought you would jump at the opportunity to leave me behind. What about your family?”

Selerim shifted uncomfortably. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

Vane glared at him. “This is different, and you know it,” he growled. “Even if you survive, Viria will die– and for nothing. I’m already dead. My body just hasn’t gotten the memo yet.”

“So we leave you to die?”

“You know you have to.”

Vane could see the truth in Selerim’s eyes. He could also see the grim acceptance in those violet eyes.

“I’m not going to leave you.”

“...” Vane sighed, then fell back as fatigue blurred his vision. “I’ll convince her.”