An Inheritance of Fire

A wave of dizziness forced Selerim to his knees. The world spun around him, blurring his vision and scattering his thoughts. He heard Nyx land on the ground beside him, but her presence was reduced to a black blur. Selerim groaned as pain lanced through him, driving him closer to the ground. It was accompanied by the scraping sensation that plagued his expedition, but more vicious and intense than before.

Selerim’s fingers tore uselessly at his skin as the feeling swept across his body. It filled his lungs, first, and then grabbed hold of his heart. The air set fire to his lungs with each breath, and every heartbeat forced it deeper into his being.

And then it was gone. Nyx landed on Selerim’s knee as he struggled upright, staring at him with deep violet eyes. I told you so. He laughed, cupping her head in one hand and gently ruffling her feathers. “I know you did,” Selerim whispered.

Her beady eyes followed his hand as he reached for his waist pouch. He ran his finger over the Heart inside. In truth, he should have already returned. His hunt was complete; everything that came after was an exercise in foolishness. But…

“I want to keep going.” Nyx tilted her head. Selerim could have sworn that her eyes were filled with exasperation. “We can return at any time,” he reasoned. “And this is my only chance. Father returned with a Titan’s Heart. I should do at least that much if I want to protect Gwyn and mom. Right?”

He hesitated, knowing that was only half of the reason. Hunting was the only time he still felt close to his father– and this was to be his last one. He didn’t want it to end so soon.

Nyx stood perfectly still. Her dark eyes met with Selerim’s, and for a moment, he thought she would refuse. He breathed a sigh of relief as the duskwing raised her wings. As she disappeared into the sky, he wondered– not for the first time– how many other hunters got into arguments with their Wyrds. He imagined it was very few, if any at all.

Linua narrowed her eyes from atop the balcony in a futile attempt to temper the harsh sunlight. Even after two weeks in the city, she couldn’t get used to how bright it was. That– and how much noisier it was. Did I do the right thing? She asked herself. The guilt she felt had only grown with the passing of time.

Guilt at taking away Selerim’s happiness. At convincing Gwyn to become some doctor’s science experiment. And for what? Her own selfish desire to escape from Cress? She resented that notion. All she wanted was for her children to be safe. That was all that mattered– right? “Haah.”

For the first time in years, Linua wished Seon was here. The thought brought tears to her eyes. No, she scolded herself. Don’t think like that. It had been hard since his passing, but the three of them had gotten through it. Together. And it would stay that way, no matter what came.

The sound of rustling feathers, followed by the feeling of talons pricking her shoulder, pulled Linua from her reverie. She laughed as Eros nudged his head up against her neck, accepting the parchment held in his beak.

“You know that pouch around your foot is for things like this, right?” She asked. Part of the same clutch as Nyx, Eros was even larger than his sister. Normally duskwings were reserved for the hunters of Cress, but she’d raised each and every one of them. No one could complain that she took one for herself. And she was glad she did. His presence had given her the peace of mind to remain with Gwyn, away from her son. Linua gave her Wyrd a chunk of meat before unrolling the parchment.

Cress’ emblem was stamped at the top; a wolf’s head inlaid with the shape of a bow and arrow. And underneath that, Corvus’ neat handwriting. She sighed in relief, then stared wide-eyed as she continued reading. Selerim would have his Feast before leaving with the next convoy. He was out there right now– and all alone.

Linua’s hands shook as she lowered the letter. Her first instinct was to demand that they find her son, but she knew that was selfish. He’d looked forward to it since the day he started training under Corvus. It wasn’t her place to interfere. She clasped her hands together. Watch over him, she asked silently. There was nothing more she could do.

“Mom?” Linua turned at the sound of Gwyn’s sleep-ridden voice to see her daughter standing in the doorway. “I heard you talking to yourself. Have you finally–” she cut off as she noticed Eros. “Oh. Hi, Eros.” The duskwing squawked in response, and for the first time, Linua realized how much her daughter had grown over the years.

Gwyn had the same bone-white hair as her brother. It had been short when they left, but now it reached her waist. At twelve years of age, she was just one year away from being a teen– something that she constantly reminded Linua of. Despite her petite build, she exuded a maturity beyond her age. It only served to intensify Linua’s guilt.

“Are you feeling better?”

Gwyn nodded. “The pain is all gone.” She visibly hesitated.

“Is that from Sel?”

“Sort of.”

“Can I read it?”

“I don’t know…”

Gwyn rolled her eyes. “Mom. I’m almost thirteen. Stop treating me like a kid.”

Linua handed her the letter, laughing as delight replaced her daughter’s sleepy expression. It was comforting to see her act like the child she was.

“So he’ll be soon?”

“Yep.”

Gwyn returned the letter with a smile. “As long as we’re together.” Linua hesitated. “You don’t have to do this, you know.” Her daughter looked up in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to let the doctor observe you. There’s bound to be another way. I’m sure that if we asked Corvus–” Gwyn cut her off with a shake of the head. “I don’t mind. He doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. Besides,” she paused. “I know you want a better life for us.”

Linua flinched at those words. She pulled Gwyn into a hug– much to her daughter’s protest– and ruffled her hair. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll tell the doctor.”

Gwyn watched her mother disappear back into the house with Eros on her shoulder. She knew, without a doubt, that her mother felt guilty about uprooting their lives. In truth, she did too. No matter how much Selerim hated the city, he would stay with them. And even if it wasn’t truly her fault, it was her illness that would force them away from Cress.

“Haah.” The young girl sighed as she looked over the city skyline. She’d already become accustomed to the foreign sight, if not the harsh light. Buildings of all shapes and sizes jutted out from the horizon. The clock tower stood taller than all the others. She smiled, imagining how her brother would react to it.

There were things she would miss about Cress. The forest. Becoming an apprentice. But that future had been ripped away with her diagnosis. Her mother would never let her do such a thing, now that she was sick. As much as Gwyn loved her, it was stifling.

She sighed again, lowering her head to rest on the balcony and drumming her fingers on the railing. As long as Gwyn had her brother and mother, she could be happy anywhere. She knew that Sel would follow them without question. It was something that she loved about him, but she wanted him to be happy, too. Truly happy.

She’d already seen a glimpse of it. Senri, Verad, and Saya had given her brother a kind of happiness that she never could. It made her jealous, in a way. She knew it was silly, but he was her brother. She couldn’t imagine a life without him. Does that make me selfish? Gwyn wondered. She wrestled with the question for a time, ultimately failing to reach any sort of conclusion.

Straightening, Gwyn looked back towards the rising sun and pushed her whirling thoughts to the side. It really is too bright, she thought with a grimace. She wondered whether her brother, wherever he was, could see it.