An Inheritance of Fire

Selerim forced one leg after the other through the thickly packed snow. More had fallen the night before; the cold white was just below his knees now. It filled his boots and soaked his feet, but it hardly bothered him. Just a wet, vaguely cold sensation. No more than that.

He turned back to search for Viria. She was more than twenty paces behind, and clearly struggling. You fool, he cursed himself. She’s wounded.

The bracelet around his wrist seemed to weigh Selerim down as he pushed back through the snow. Though light, its constant presence was a persistent reminder of the promise he’d made to the dying elf. He glanced down at the wooden band. It was precious. He was certain of that; but in his possession, it was just a piece of jewelry. All the more reason he shouldn’t have it.

“Hey,” Selerim said gently, draping one of the elf’s arms over his shoulder. Her expression was tight with pain, and her face was slicked with sweat despite the cold. “We’ll stop here for the night. We need to dry your wounds and redo the bandages. Alright?”

Viria nodded wordlessly. She’d not said a word since leaving her uncle’s burial site. Selerim assumed her silence was caused by grief, but he was clearly wrong. Idiot, he cursed himself again. You know better.

It took time to find a suitable spot for shelter; the recent snowfall obscured much of the ground. “There.” Selerim pointed in the distance. A large tree had fallen, likely due to the weight of the ice and snow.

It rested on top of a large boulder, and the ground underneath it was clear. “Just a little more, all right?” The elf’s closed eyes fluttered open at the question, but they were blurry, and closed after just a split second.

Selerim stopped moving as Viria pitched forward. Without his support, she would have fallen face-first into the snow. He shook her gently. No response. The fallen tree was still some distance away. “Sorry,” he apologized.

Lifting the unconscious elf out of the snow, he cradled both her legs in one arm while supporting her head and back with the other. She was light. With Viria in his arms, it only took Selerim a few more minutes to reach the fallen tree.

Selerim lay Viria with her back to the boulder, removing his crude cloak and draping it over her. It was slick with moisture, but it was better than nothing. She needs fire. And food. He turned– and cursed himself yet again. Their rations were stored in the bracelet on his wrist– completely inaccessible to him.

Selerim dropped his pack and threw the top open. He’d insisted on carrying it himself for exactly this reason. He pulled out his tinderbox first. Warming the unconscious girl was most important.

With the fire started, he retrieved a small cloth-wrapped bundle from his pack. It held meat, mostly, but he’d set aside a small amount of fruits and vegetables as well. Selerim rinsed them off with water from his canteen before kneeling at Viria’s side. Her face was still twisted in discomfort, but her shivering was less pronounced. He shook her softly.

She opened her eyes and looked at him blearily. Selerim held a piece of dried fruit up to her eyes. “You need to eat,” he said gently, giving her time to look at it. Viria blinked and then nodded, and he gently held it to her lips. He fed her four pieces total, and by the time she finished, her skin was less pale than before.

“Thank you,” the elf murmured. Her voice was thick with drowsiness. “You should sleep,” Selerim said gently. “But your bandages need to be changed first.” He hesitated. “Do you want me to help?”

She stiffened.

“We don’t need to clean everything this time. I can do the back, and you can do the front.”

The elf was silent for a moment, then nodded.

“I’ll boil some water. Just rest until then.”

By the time Selerim boiled a small piece of cloth and let it dry, Viria had fallen asleep. He considered letting her rest, but the dangers of an infection were too great. Viria stirred as he shook her again, sitting upright for a moment before slumping back down.

Selerim caught her before she hit the ground. “Hey,” he said softly. “We need to change your bandages. Do you still want me to help?” She nodded, still half-asleep. “Then turn away, and…” He trailed off as she did so.

She slipped one arm free of her dress, slipping her shoulder out from under the cloak. Her pale skin glistened with sweat. He handed her one of the boiled bandages.

“Use this to dry them. Don’t wipe– dab.” The elf’s body stiffened as she did so.

Once she finished, Selerim pulled out a roll of bandages and drizzled a thin layer of antiseptic onto it. He held the end to her burnt shoulder, then brought it down to her left hip. “Here. It’s going to sting.”

Viria took it from him and brought it back up to her shoulder.

“I’m going to tighten it.”

She nodded, then stiffened further as he did so. They repeated the process multiple times. “Is that everything?” Another nod.

“Just get some rest, then.”

Viria slipped her garb back on and unceremoniously fell forward, clearly too spent to do much else.

Selerim turned the elf onto her back, making sure nothing would press down on her burns while she slept. Her pale green hair was short now; she’d lopped the rest off after his blood burned the ends.

Truth be told, he had no idea how to interact with her. The differences between them were obvious, something the journey until now had only made more pronounced; and that was before she’d been burned.

Selerim stood. He vaguely knew which direction they needed to go, but no more. The snow made everything harder; Nyx would have to do the rest. How long is it going to take now? Their pace before had been slow, and now that Viria was injured, it would be even slower. The thought made him flinch. He’d burned her– even if it wasn’t on purpose.

Nyx descended as Selerim raised a hand. Her inky black feathers were slick with half-melted snow, and her small form trembled.

Selerim laughed softly. “Sorry, girl. I’m counting on you.” The Reaver tilted her head as he scratched her neck. The wooden bracelet caught his attention. “What am I supposed to do?” He glanced back at the elf’s sleeping figure. The orange firelight flickered off her pale skin. Be kind to her. He’d promised that, and more.

Nyx nipped his finger. Selerim fished a scrap of meat from his pack. She vanished without a trace after devouring it.

Selerim sat back by the fire with a sigh. With Viria asleep, there was nothing to keep his mind occupied.

The weight of Vane’s lifeless body, cold and weak, followed Viria into her sleep– as did her guilt. Phantoms of half-recollection swirled around her. Each was no than a faint silhouette, and each bore a voice of accusation.

Your fault.

She knew it was.

She’d injured Veile.

She’d gotten them exiled.

She’d gotten Vane killed.

It was her fault. Just like her mother’s death– and her father’s abandonment. The accusations grew louder as she clasped her ears, then vanished the waking world came rushing back.

The scent of cooking meat made Viria’s stomach churn as she sat up. Her burns still stung, but it was a dull ache now, as opposed to the sharp pain from before. Selerim sat with his back to her, tending to something stuck in the fire.

“Nnn…”

Viria groaned as she tried to stand. Her legs were weak, and the movement caused the pain to flare up again.

Selerim turned at the sound. His violet eyes were filled with concern. “Go back to sleep,” he said gently. “You need to rest. Burns can take time to heal.”

Viria shook her head. “Can’t. I…” She choked as the shadowy figures surrounding her flashed back in her mind. “I just can’t.”

Selerim nodded. There was understanding alongside the concern in his eyes, now. “Alright.” He paused. “You can’t eat meat, can you?”

Viria shook her head. The simple action sent a wave of pain rolling down her torso and made her eyes water. She felt the hollow’s hand on her shoulder as she leaned forward, steadying her.

“Take it easy.”

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” Viria said fiercely.

“Alright,” Selerim acquiesced. “But you should take this back.” He held up the arm with Vane’s bracelet on it.

Viria’s heart tightened at the sight of it. “He told you to take it.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t use it. All of our food is in it. And besides…” Selerim trailed off for a moment. “It’s wooden. I don’t want to break it… or burn it.”

Viria shook her head. “You won’t.” She held up her own. “It’s made of elderwood. If there’s even a splinter left, it’ll repair itself.”

“It’s your uncle’s. Are you willing to risk it?”

Viria hesitated at that before reaching out. She spun a thread of essence and pressed it into the thin wooden band. The still-living wood grew larger in response to her will. She slid it off of Selerim’s wrist and onto her own. She repeated the process, stoking the magic until it fit properly.

“I’ll give it back to you once we get closer. There won’t be as many Reavers.”

Selerim nodded and turned back to the fire. He removed two long sticks from the fire; each had a skewered piece of meat at its end. “You should eat, too. We might have to wait for some of the snow to melt before we can keep going.”

“Okay.”

Viria stared into the fire as the hollow scarfed down the two pieces of meat.

“Where did you get that?” She asked curiously. “You said you can’t use the bracelet.”

Selerim wiped the corners of his mouth before responding. “It’s from the Reavers I killed.”

“Oh.” Viria blinked. “Does it taste good?”

“No. But it’s better than eating through your rations.”

“I see.” Viria sat by the fire and pulled her knees against her chest. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Selerim nodded silently.

Viria stared into the flickering flames, grateful for their fleeting warmth. Tomorrow would be another long, cold day; made all the more so by Vane’s absence. Tears welled in her eyes, as ghastly accusations replayed in her mind, but she refused to let them win.

“We’ll stay here until your wounds are better,” Selerim said suddenly. “If we move too much, it’ll take longer for them to heal.”

Viria fell silent. His impatience had been obvious. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as the guilt came rushing back. “You’re away from your family because of me, and now…” She trailed off as Selerim looked back towards her. His lavender eyes mirrored her guilt.

“I should be the one apologizing,” he said grimly. “If I dealt with the Titan faster, or came up with a better plan…”

Viria laughed. Rife with grief, the sound bordered on insanity. “No. It’s mine.”

Selerim shifted. “It’s not,” he finally said. “Everything that lives will die someday.” The anguish in his voice was plain to hear.

Viria bit her tongue to keep from asking. She didn’t want to dredge up his own memories– that wasn’t fair to him.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again.

“It’s not your fault.”

She couldn’t bring herself to believe it. When Selerim spoke again, his voice was calm again.

“I know you don’t want to sleep,” he said gently. “But you should still try. You’ll heal faster.” He scooped up a handful of snow, cleaning his hands with it before tossing it back. “We should change the bandage on your hand as well.

Viria held out her hand. Selerim’s expression was focused as he unwrapped the bandage. The flesh underneath was burned and raw; though not as severe as the ones across her chest. The gash she’d given herself was a bright, angry red, caused by her allergies.

She bit her tongue to keep from crying out as the hollow poured disinfectant on it. “Hold it by the fire.”

She did as instructed; it only took a moment for the heat to dry her palm. Selerim gripped her hand and gently dabbed the last bit of moisture away before bandaging it. Viria felt her face flush; he had the same look as when he’d cleaned and bandaged her other burns. Completely absorbed with the task and hand, Selerim seemed not to notice.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as he tied off the bandage.

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have asked that of you. It was stupid.”

Viria shook her head. “Actions mean more than words, right?”

Selerim was silent.

“I know you don’t trust me,” Viria said. “But I want you to. It’s a small price to pay for that.”

Selerim said nothing as he stood. “You should rest. You’re still healing.”

Viria felt a rush of panic at the thought of being left alone. Selerim flinched as she grabbed hold of his wrist. Her hand burned underneath the bandage. “Please…” Her voice cracked. “Please don’t leave me alone.” Desperation filled her voice, but she didn’t have the willpower to banish it. For one terrifying moment, she thought that he would pull free and walk away, but he just nodded and sat back down.

“Thank you,” she whispered, pulling her cloak closer. They sat there; the only sound between them was the fire’s low crackling.

“We’ll keep the fire going overnight, too,” Selerim finally said. “I’ll gather more firewood tomorrow.”

“Alright.” That was something to be grateful for. The cold was even more brutal at night. “I’ll help you.” Silence fell between them again, until a thought struck Viria. “The Reavers,” she said softly. “How are you going to deal with the Reavers without…?” The last two words died on her tongue.

Selerim was quiet for a moment. “Those shields you made… before. Can you still use them?”

Viria nodded. Blue dye seeped into the world as she tugged on the ocean of essence around her. It was easier, now, after her outburst. After… her chest tightened. She buried her trepidation and directed the currents around her, pooling them into her hands and shaping it into a sphere.

“It’s… easier, now.” She swallowed. “But what I did before, with the spikes… I don’t think I can do that again.” Blue light shone onto Selerim’s face.

“As long as you can keep yourself safe.”

“And what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

For some reason, those simple three words made Viria’s anger rise. “What? So I’m just supposed to sit back while you do all the fighting?” Tears welled again, and this time, she couldn’t keep them from falling. “What if you die, too? What then?”

It took her a moment to realize why she was angry.

She was angry at herself.

For losing focus.

For not being stronger.

For letting Vane die.

Selerim regarded her with those strange purple eyes. “The bladetail didn’t kill me,” he said quietly. He tapped his hand to where its tails had stabbed him.

Viria flinched as the image of three vicious prongs jutting out of him came rushing back. “So what?” She said. “Are you just going to fight like an animal? What if… whatever it is stops working? If your head gets cut off? Do you think it’ll grow back?” Her voice, barely a whisper, was bright with anger. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. I know I’m just a burden.”

She laughed.

“Do you think I want to be? If I wasn’t, maybe my uncle would still be alive.” Viria imbued essence into her bracelet as she spoke, retrieving Vane’s sword amidst a vivid blue glow.

In its sheath, it looked more like a walking stick than a weapon. It had no handguard; instead, the handle perfectly aligned with the sheath, lending it the appearance of a long, flat stick. Viria’s uncle had carried it for as long as she could remember. It was practically a part of him.

“Teach me to fight.” It was childish, she knew. A pointless struggle against the grief and fear of being alone.

Selerim shook his head. “I’m not a swordsman,” he said gently. “And you’re still healing. If you move around too much…”

“I don’t care.” Viria cut him off. “I don’t want to watch helplessly from the sidelines.”

Selerim watched as Viria’s breathing steadied again. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, and he could still hear the grief in her voice. Feel the brunt of her anger. He knew he wasn’t the real reason for either of those emotions, but he still felt guilty.

In some ways, she had it worse. His family was still alive. Far away, but alive. During Viria’s time in Cress, she’d never had anyone other than Vane– and now he was dead.

Then let it all burn.

It was the last thing Vane said to Selerim. The emotions in those five words had spoken volumes about the circumstances of their exile, but they were impossible to decipher.

Standing, Selerim hoisted himself up on top of their makeshift shelter. The sky above was as dark as ever, the clouds and stars hidden by invisible clouds. His every breath came out as a white cloud. He had every intention of leaving her in the elven country and never looking back, but he’d made a promise.

What have I gotten myself into?