“To the elven kingdom? You?”
“And the others,” Selerim responded. He stood hunched over on the balcony’s railing, head resting on his hands. “All five of us.” His two-tone violet eyes were fixed on something far beyond sight; the ruins of their home.
And where his friends were buried.
“What for?”
“An escort mission.”
“What do you want to do?” Linua asked, careful to keep her voice neutral. She had no desire to shackle Selerim– even if her instinct was still to forbid this new journey.
“... I don’t know.”
That answer was hardly surprising. Her son had always relished the simplicity of his life in Cress. The one he led now was far different, filled with complexities and contradictions that he had no idea how to navigate.
“I think you do,” Linua said gently. “You want to see her again, don’t you? Viria.”
Selerim tensed at the name. “No. Yes. It… it’s complicated.”
She laughed softly at the look of confusion on his face. “Is it?” She asked softly. “I don’t think it is.”
“What do you mean?”
“You care for her, don’t you?”
His brow furrowed. “Of course I do. But… it’s complicated,” he repeated. “I care for her. I promised her uncle I would be kind to her. And I treasure the time we spent together. But… lots of those memories are bad.”
“Even if the circumstances that brought you two together were bad, that doesn’t mean the moments you shared with her are inherently bad, too,” Linua pointed out. “And from what you told us, it sounds like there was plenty of good.”
Selerim’s face cleared somewhat. “You’re right.”
“What was your first thought when you received that mission?”
It took him a moment to consider the question. “That it would be nice to see her again.”
Linua smiled. “There you go. That’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”
Her son fell silent as some new emotion arose; clashing with the already complicated emotions present in his expression. “I’m worried,” Selerim admitted, his voice barely even a whisper.
“About what?”
“That she’ll blame me.”
“For what?”
“Her uncle’s death.”
“Has she ever blamed you?”
“... No. She said it wasn’t my fault.”
“Then you should trust her. She tried to watch out for you– and you said she never lied to you, either.”
“She didn’t.”
“Then you should trust her,” Linua repeated.
“I did. I do.”
It was obvious there was something else on his mind, but she knew it was better to let him be the first to bring it up.
When Selerim spoke again, his tone was flat and cold, completely devoid of the warmth it had held just moments ago. “Her sister. Veile. I don’t trust her.”
“... And you think she's behind this.”
“I know she is, “ he growled, the anger in his voice a nearly tangible thing. “Otherwise, why us?”
It was rather hard to argue with that.
“What do you think she’s trying to do?”
“I don’t know.” Selerim’s shoulders sagged. “I was never the one who thought about these things. That was always Corvus… or Senri.” He took a long, shaky breath. “She cares about Viria. I can trust that, even if I can’t trust her.” His fingers curled around the railing, gripping the wood-and-stone surface with enough force to make it crack. “I just don’t understand how it all fits together.” Another shaky breath. “I don’t think I ever will. It’s just… beyond me.”
Linua moved to stand by his side, leaning up against the railing. Her instinct was to pull him into arms, to offer her son some measure of comfort, but she knew that wasn’t what he needed in this moment. “What brought this on?” She asked gently. There was obviously something more to it.
Selerim fell silent again, and just as she was about to prod him further, he answered. “The doctor lied to me.”
Linua felt her blood run cold. “Are you sure?” She regretted those words the moment they crossed her lips. Selerim was her son. He had never lied to her– not once. Trust and honesty were the basis of their relationship. “Sorry. That’s not what I meant.”
Selerim shook his head, making his bone-white hair jump. “It’s fine. I understand. He’s helped us… a lot.” He pushed himself off the railing as he spoke, looking down at the splinters of wood and stone lodged into his palms. Small embers jumped from his flesh as he pulled them free, lasting only a fraction of a second before dying.
“What did he lie about?”
“I don’t know.”
“... That’s not a lot to go off of.”
“I know. Veile… she also warned me about him.” Selerim sighed. “But I don’t trust her. She might’ve said that just to mess with me. Or get a certain reaction out of me.” Frustration crept back into his voice. “I just don’t know. That’s the problem. And…” he trailed off. “What she told me. About the Reaver I Feasted on. I thought something would have happened by now. But it hasn’t.” His voice tightened. “It’s just another thing I don’t know.”
“Ah.” That last sentence revealed the source of his worries and frustration alike. He always focused on what was in front of him. The weapon in his hand, the monsters he hunted– and the friends that stood by him. Those were tangible. Real. Things that he could touch and feel. Subtlety and subterfuge ill-suited him; they were simply too far removed from his personal ethos.
“This doesn’t suit you,” Linua said gently. “Thinking about things that are beyond sight.”
“I know. But if I don’t think about these things, you and Gwyn might get hurt. Or worse.”
She sighed. Such a heavy burden he carried. “Do you think Gwyn and I are powerless?”
Selerim answered immediately. “Yes.” That single word was spoken with such abrupt honesty that it made her laugh. “What?” He asked, somewhat grumpily.
“Nothing,” Linua answered, forcing herself to calm. “Just the way you answered it.” She reached out to ruffle his hair. “I guess you’re right. Neither of us have the power to level cities… and we’ll die if our heads get cut off. But,” she added, seeing him flinch. “Do you think you have the power to decide the course of the world?”
“... What does that mean?”
“You can’t control everything that happens,” she said consolingly. All you’re going to do is drive yourself mad.”
The look of confusion on Selerim’s face cleared, though the unease remained. “But I should at least try, shouldn’t I?”
Linua shook her head. “I can’t answer that for you. I appreciate the fact that you’re trying to look out for us– I really do– but you should worry about your own happiness, too.”
“You sound like Gwyn.”
She laughed again. “Of course I do. We’re your family.” Her son nodded once, seemingly satisfied with that answer. “Speaking of Gwyn… if you’re going to leave again soon, you should let her know. She’ll want to spend time with you.”
Selerim nodded again. “I will. It won’t be for a little while, though. Suli will want to speak to me first. I think.”
“Suli?”
“One of the mercenaries. The mage. Their leader.”
“I see. And what about the doctor?” Linua asked quietly. “Are you going to confront him?”
“No. Not yet. I just don’t know how he fits into all of this. It’s like you said… thinking about things l can’t see doesn’t suit me. And he won’t harm either of you. I made sure of it.” As Selerim spoke, Nyx lighted on his shoulder in a flurry of shadow. “Has Eros returned yet?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. Soon, though.”
“I see.”
“These new friends of yours… do you think they’re going to accept the mission?”
Selerim nodded, shattering the small hope Linua had left. “I think so. They’re in it for the money. The pay… I imagine it’ll be quite high.”
“And if they don’t?”
He shrugged. “Then we won’t go.”
“Mmh.” A small part of her still wanted to forbid him from leaving on this new journey, but Linua held her tongue– because she knew he would accept it without argument. “You should go find your sister.”
image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]
“What do you want, Wo–” The question died on Suli’s lips as she saw her brother’s expression. His usual air of lethargy and sleaziness was gone, replaced by a mixture of anticipation and… fear.
That worried her. Though Worrick only ever acted in his own self-interest, he went to great lengths to insulate himself from any potential consequences.
“Suli.” He gestured to the seat in front of his desk. “Sit.”
She did so without questioning why.
Worrick opened one of the drawers and pulled out a sheaf of paper, tossing it before her with a dull smack.
“What is this?”
“Your next commission. If you want it.”
“Why wouldn’t…?” That question, too, died on her lips as she picked it up. “That fucker,” Suli growled. “He lied to me!”
“What do you mean?”
“Ember. That mask-wearing mercenary that you assigned to us. He said he wasn’t an elf.”
Worrick snorted, leaning back in his chair. “He’s not.”
“Then how in the world do you explain this?” She waved the papers around.
“I would tell you if I knew,” he said earnestly. “But he’s not an elf. I can tell you that much.”
“Then why us?”
“You realize that’s basically the same question, right?”
She glared at Worrick, who raised his hands in surrender.
“I honestly don’t know. This request comes from the same person who recommended Ember.” His voice dropped. “He’s not someone you or I hold a candle to.”
“Even so… this is treason, isn’t it?”
He shook his head. “It’s been formally endorsed by the prince. I made sure of it.”
Suli blinked. “The prince?” She’d heard rumors of him, but this was still far beyond the ordinary. “What does he want with this?”
“No clue. It’s an endorsement. He’s not the one making the commission itself.”
That meant whoever commissioned this had close ties to the royal family– maybe close enough to influence the next in line. “But you know who commissioned it.”
Worrick nodded. “I do. But you know I can’t tell you that.”
“Do you trust him?”
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
He grimaced. “Yes. He’s always kept his word– and he’s offered enough money for the four of you to live out the rest of your lives.”
“... And what about Tasha?”
“He’s prepared to accept her as his apprentice.” Worrick smiled thinly. “He’s a mage, even if not a proper one. She would be exempted from the rest of her service. So long as you think she could handle visiting the elven kingdom.”
Suli chewed her lip. “I think she would. She’s come a long way. The money is one thing… but Rase and Naru would jump at the opportunity to keep Tasha out of harm’s way.” She set the papers down. “There’s no reason for us to turn it down, and every reason for us to accept.”
Worrick nodded. “I know.” He leaned forward, “But I’m asking you not to take it.”
Suli blinked. “Why not?”
“There’s just too many things I don’t know. I have no idea what this is for. No idea what happens after this.” He sighed. “And I have a bad feeling about all of this. There’s something more at play here. I just know there is.”
“... That’s not a good enough answer.”
Another sigh. “I know,” Worrick admitted. “I know that’s not a good enough answer.” He reached out, grabbing one of Suli’s hands in both of his own. “I know what you think of me. How I look to others. I’m lazy and corrupt, sure, but I’ve never lied to you.” His grip tightened. “And despite how I look, that’s something I take pride in.”
“... I know,” Suli said, uncomfortable in the face of her brother’s sudden earnestness.
“Then for once in your life, please listen to me. Don’t take this commission, no matter what.”
She shook her head. “I can’t promise you that. I may be their leader, but part of that means looking out for their best interests.” Her voice dropped an octave. “I couldn’t bear keeping something like this from them.”
Worrick’s shoulders slumped. “I knew you’d say that. You really care for them, don’t you?”
Suli nodded. “If you wanted to keep me from doing this, why even give it to me? Why not just keep it from me?”
“Because the man behind it would have no issue contacting you on his own. And,” a note of resignation crept into his voice, “I wouldn’t feel right. Your choices are your own… no matter how much I want to meddle.”
A smile spread across her face as she stood. “See? It’s the same thing.”
Worrick remained silent.
“Thank you."
image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]
Gwyn wasn’t particularly surprised when her brother found her. She’d been gone for some time, after all, and even if Selerim was no longer overtly overprotective, he still worried. It was one of the reasons she loved him. As for how he found her... Nyx took care of that, no doubt.
“Where’s your friend?”
The question made her heart twinge. “She went home. Something about her dad. She really just came to… to say goodbye.”
“Hm.” Selerim didn’t say anything about her stutter, instead offering her one hand and pulling her up as she took it.
She’d been seated on a wooden bench placed among the many stalls that lined the street. It was where she’d first met Saris; it was only fitting it was where they parted ways.
“You seem sad.”
“I am,” Gwyn answered with a nod. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing her again.”
“Why not?”
“She said she’ll be moving away soon. To another city.”
“I see.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said forcefully. “You and mom are all I need.” That was true– even if it hardly softened the blow of their parting.
“You can still be sad,” Selerim said quietly.
“I know.” Gwyn stepped into the crowd, her brother following close behind. “But feeling so sad about something like this makes me feel… silly.”
“Why?”
She considered lying for a moment but discarded the thought just as quickly. “Because you’ve been through so much more.” The sound of her brother’s steps faded. Turning, she saw him standing a few paces away, a frown on his face.
“That’s not how I want you to think.”
Gwyn nodded. “I know. But I can’t help it.” She stepped back towards Selerim, tucking her arm under his and forcing him to walk beside her. “It’ll pass. But enough of that. What did you want to tell me?”
“... How did you know?”
She laughed. “I'm your sister. Did you think I wouldn’t? So. What is it?”
Her brother fell silent for a moment before answering. “Our next commission came in.”
“For you and the other mercenaries?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you need to tell me about it?”
“It’s an escort mission. To the elven kingdom.”
“And why do you need to tell me about that?”
“... I’m going to be gone for a long time.”
“If you’re thinking of staying because of me…”
“No.” Selerim shook his head. “I want to go.”
Gwyn stopped short at that– as did her brother. “That’s surprising,” she said with a smile. “But I’m glad. Is it because of that girl? Viria?”
“... Yeah. It’ll be good to see her again.”
“Is there something I should know about?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head again. “Nothing like that. She’s just… a friend. I don’t have many of those.”
“Are you still… in love with Senri?”
Gwyn saw him stiffen, and for a moment, she feared she’d gone too far. But–
“I don’t know how to answer that,” her brother answered, taking another step forward. Gwyn let herself be pulled along. “I loved Senri,” Selerim continued, his voice trembling. “But I don’t know if I was in love with her. There’s a distinction there… I think. An important one.”
She waited for him to continue of his own accord.
“There was always something there, but neither of us acted on it. I think… I think we were too scared to. We never really started.” He took a long, shaky breath. “No… that’s not right. We started– and then she died.” The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. “So I don’t know how to answer that.”
“I’m sorry,” Gwyn said softly. “I shouldn’t have asked that.” She stopped again, pulling her brother into a hug.
“It’s okay,” Selerim murmured, his breath warming the back of her neck. “Talking about it helps.”
“Alright.” She pulled away. “If you’re going to go away for so long, you’ll spend time with me before then, right?”
The corners of his mouth curved into a slight smile. “Of course. That’s why I’m here. Is there anything you want to do?”
“I need a new training weapon.”
“... You know you need to master the staff first, right?”
“But whyyyyyyyyyyyyy?!”
image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]
Selerim stepped into the shop after his sister. All sorts of weapons lined the walls, ranging from swords to flails. They came in many different shapes and sizes; some were shorter than his arm, others taller than he was.
The shopkeeper reminded him of Varen, in some ways. His sandy hair was streaked with soot, as was his skin, and his thick leather apron was charred in many places. But the similarities ended there. Where Varen had been tall and slender, just like most other hollows, this man had broad shoulders and a muscular, wiry build. His dark eyes flickered with surprise at the sight of the siblings. “What a surprise. I don’t see your kind often.”
Selerim dipped his head. “Are we unwelcome?”
The shopkeeper waved his hand. “Not what I said. Your money’s as good as anyone else’s.” He paused. “Although I will admit to being curious. Your people seem rather attached to your weapons.”
“Do you have one?”
“Nope. And not for lack of trying.”
“I see.” That was to be expected. A hunter’s weapon was of great importance to them.
“So? What’re you here for?”
“We need two staffs.”
One of the man’s bushy eyebrows went up. “Staffs? That’s an odd choice.”
“I’m teaching my sister,” Selerim responded, gesturing to Gwyn. “Staffs come first. We keep breaking them.”
The shopkeeper snorted. “No surprise there. Our weapons aren’t meant for your hands– and staffs are an uncommon choice.”
“Do you have any?”
“That I do. I can’t make any promises about how long they’ll last. Although…” He trailed off. “Give me a moment.” He disappeared into the back of the shop.
“Why do I have to start with the staff anyways?” Gwyn asked. “Especially if I’m just going to switch to something else right afterwards.” Her face reddened as Selerim laughed. “What?”
“Nothing,” he responded with a shake of the head. “You just remind me of myself.” He, of course, had demanded the same from Corvus. “Why do you think we start with the staff?”
His sister shrugged. “I have no clue.”
“Try thinking about it.”
She huffed, but tilted her head thoughtfully all the same. “Is it because of our strength?”
Selerim nodded, unsurprised that she’d reached the answer. “You keep hitting yourself with the staff, right?”
Gwyn nodded.
“Even dull blades will cut with enough force. With a staff, you’ll just bruise yourself. Maybe break something at worst. But you’ll heal from that. If you cut off a finger or limb, though…”
“I won’t grow them back. Unlike you, apparently.”
“... I don’t grow them back.”
“Whatever you say.” She turned her attention back to the weapons that lined the walls. “How long did it take you to master the staff?”
“Almost a year.”
“And what did you learn after that?”
“The spear.”
“And after that?”
“The sword. And then father’s weapon.”
Gwyn huffed. “Are you going to make me learn every single weapon, too?”
Selerim shook his head. “No. I won’t have as much time to teach you as Corvus.” He tried– and failed– to keep his voice from wavering. His sister, of course, took notice.
“Hey,” she said gently, nudging him with her foot. “You’re happier now. I can see it. That’s more important to me.”
He nodded. “What weapon do you want to learn, then?”
“Hmm.” Gwyn tilted her head again. “The spear. That seems like it would be the easiest… unless you’d rather not.”
“I don’t mind.” Truthfully, Selerim had expected that answer. She had always been the practical one between them. “You should keep practicing while I’m gone, though. Ask mom to help, too.”
“I will,” she said with a nod. “Do you know when you’ll be leaving?”
“Not yet. But… I think I’ll be here for a few weeks, at least. I’m sure Suli will want to speak to me first.”
“Suli? The mage in your group?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“She thought I was an elf.”
Surprise spread over Gwyn’s face, only to be replaced by incredulity a split second later. “I guess that makes sense,” she said, giggling between her words. “But that’s…” She broke into a fit of laughter. “Really funny.”
Selerim smiled as his sister visibly struggled to regain control. Though he enjoyed his time in Umbra, moments like these were what kept him going.
“Gwyn.”
“Hm?” She peered up at him, curiosity written on her face.
“I’m not going to do this forever. Just… until I figure out what to do next.”
“I know.” Gwyn kicked at the ground. “You can’t think here, can you?”
He shook his head. “It’s too… loud. And colorful. And there’s too many people. But you and mom are my priority. I mean it. I just… need to figure things out.”
“I know,” his sister repeated. “But do you really think things are going to settle down?”
“I don’t know,” Selerim admitted. “I keep waiting, but nothing happens.” He sighed. “Maybe she lied to me.”
“Why would she lie about something like that?”
“Who knows?” He sighed. “She claimed to know everything… and proved it, too. Whatever her actions, I’m sure there’s a reason.”
“It almost sounds like you respect her.”
“I respect her desire to protect Viria. That's it.”
“Because you can relate to it?”
“Yeah.”
Gwyn turned her eyes downward, shuffling her feet. But as she opened her mouth to say more, the shopkeeper returned.
He carried two long rods forged from a silvery metal. Each emanated a soft flickering glow, leaving a trail of ethereal light as they moved through the air. Though clearly shaped with skill and purpose, their surfaces were devoid of any marks or blemishes.
“What are these?” Selerim asked as the shopkeeper laid them on the desk.
“Very expensive,” the man snorted. “But maybe the only thing that’ll last more than a day or two in your hands. These,” he gestured to the two staffs, “were made by the dwarves.”
“The dwarves?”
“Aye,” he said with a nod. “They cost me dearly. I thought I’d be able to study their work before selling them myself, but neither of those things bore fruit.”
“Why?”
“The dwarves are simply beyond me in skill. I’m not even sure what forging method they use. Rumor says that they hammer magic into their creations. After spending so much time with these, I’m inclined to agree. As for why I haven’t sold them yet…” the shopkeeper trailed off with a sigh. “Most people prefer blades. For obvious reasons. As they are now, people think of them more like broken spears. Dwarves rarely part with what they make, so I thought some collector would take them off my hands, but…” he shrugged. “It has yet to happen. If you can offer me a fair price, I’m more than happy to let you have them.”
Selerim hesitated. He carried no money; and even if he did, he had no clue what a “fair price” was. His mother was the one studying such things. Gwyn, he assumed, carried money, but whether she understood its value was another thing entirely.
“Here.” His sister pulled up the necklace that Varus had given her. “Will this work?” The gold-foil emblem encased within the pendant glimmered against the soft silver light, turned a pale yellow against its hue.
The shopkeeper blinked, surprise clear on his face. “Well enough,” he said after a moment. “Though I admit to being curious why you have that.”
“I’m a patient of his.”
“A patient, eh? No matter. Money is money.”
“And this as well,” Gwyn added, stepping to the wall and placing her hand on one of the many weapons hanging from it. It was a small dagger attached to a long chain.”
“Very well.” The shopkeeper reached down behind the desk, retrieving a long sheet of paper and wrapping the two staffs with deft, practiced movements. “You can just take that from the wall.”
She did so, cradling both parts in her hands as Selerim moved to take the two staffs. He could feel their cold through the thin wrapping.
“Come back any time,” the shopkeeper said with a grin.
“I thought you wanted to learn the spear,” Selerim said as they stepped out.
“I do,” Gwyn responded, offering the third weapon to him. “This is for you.”
“Why?”
“You don’t want to be stuck using that sword forever, do you? You have that cube. From your Feast.”
“I don’t know when I’ll find someone to forge it.”
“Why not go back and ask him? He would probably be happy to work on it.”
“... I don’t think it’s that simple.” Viria had told him as much, all that time ago.
“Even so,” Gwyn said, raising the weapon up to him. “You’ll grow rusty.” Her expression softened. “Even if you don’t use it outside of practicing with me, you should. I know it’s important to you.”
Selerim accepted it after another moment, exchanging the two long staffs for it. This was something important to him. He’d chosen to follow in his father’s footsteps; his choice of weapon was an extension of that.
“Thank you.”
He tested the blade’s edge against the tip of his finger before ratting the chain experimentally. It felt solid; a world apart from the shoddy one he’d used briefly in Vasoria. The thin blade was razor-sharp. I’ll have to blunt it.
“Selerim.” He looked down at Gwyn, surprised at her use of his full name.
“Yes?”
She shifted the two staffs in her arms, propping them up on one shoulder. “Stay safe. I know you always do, but…” Her grip on the weapons visibly tightened. “Stay safe.”
"I will." He took a deep breath. "I'll be gone for a long time. I think... I think, after this. I'll be fine. I'll stop after this."
"Do whatever makes you happy." Gwyn adjusted her hold again. "Will you take me on a hunt with you, sometime?"
"I don't know if that's a good idea..." Selerim trailed off as she glared at him.
"It's something important to you. I want to share that with you."
"Alright," he conceded. "But not until you're ready."