Gwyn could see her brother’s embarrassment. It was nothing so pronounced as a red face, a stumbled word, or a missed step, but it was there nonetheless; in how seldom his eyes met hers, in how distracted he was. She knew it would pass soon enough; they were family, after all.

Selerim held a simple sword in both hands, another weapon he’d crudely dulled. There was purpose in purchasing it aside from practice. It was, in a way, the first thing he’d purchased with his own two hands: everything before it was handled through Varus.

Something that she knew bothered him.

It was a contradictory feeling. She trusted her brother, trusted his suspicion in the doctor, yet owed him a debt– and a great one, at that. As did their mother.

Gwyn knew not what Selerim had seen in the elven kingdom; only what he had told them, and yet, that was no reason to doubt him. Her brother was not someone easily swayed, nor had he lied to her even once.

Her muscles ached in protest as she stepped back, swinging her staff horizontally to ward off his sword. Still, that was a marked improvement. The bruises covering her torso, arm, and abdomen had finally begun to dwindle in number, rather than increase day after day.

That was a testament to just how much they practiced, rather than her skill or talent. Their sessions had grown not only in number, but in intensity. Gwyn had noticed that, and suspected the reason, though she hadn’t known for certain until the other day. That revelation was no real surprise: it was simply Selerim’s nature.

He overthought things.

Taking another step– forward this time– she shifted her grip, jabbing with the staff like a spear. Her brother sidestepped, batting the metal pole off to the side. Gwyn took a second step, pivoting with her front foot and whirling around, staff held out in front of her.

Instead of dodging, Selerim lowered his posture, raising his weapon handle-up to block.

She hardly felt a thing. Only the barest of tremors ran up her fingers, through her palms and up into her arms. That was not the case for her brother. Though he didn’t so much as flinch, Gwyn saw his body tremble at the force of their clash.

“It still feels strange,” Selerim stepped away to inspect the blade of his weapon. “The sword is being destroyed. I guess that’s not surprising.” He turned slightly, swinging the dull weapon once. It whistled lopsidedly as it cut through the air.

She inspected her own. There was not a blemish to be found.

“You don’t feel much when our weapons meet, do you?”

Gwyn shook her head. “Hardly anything.” Whenever their weapons clashed, there was hardly any feedback. She knew she was blocking, could feel the weight of his strength, but not the shock of metal weapons meeting. That was especially odd, considering the difference in power. He’d had his Feast.

“What does your sword look like?” She leaned forward to look. Selerim’s handiwork was crude indeed; rather than dulling the blade, he physically hammered the edge over itself, blunting it in the process.

“Wow. that’s bad.” That rolled sheet of metal was now nicked, chipped, and even outright shattered in some places. Gwyn frowned. “Why do you get to use a dull blade and I don’t?”

“Because I have better control than you.” Selerim lowered it. “But it’s not safe to keep using it.” He let it clatter to the ground before retrieving his staff and kicking it away. “We can keep going… what?”

“I thought you treated your weapons with respect.”

He frowned. “This isn’t my weapon.”

“Ah.” It was that sort of thing, then.

Gwyn took two steps back as her brother hefted the dwarven staff. As her brother nodded, she dashed forward, bringing the weapon down in a short strike.

Her brother raised his own to block. As they collided, she pivoted on her front foot, bringing her other up for a kick. They’d slowly begun working such strikes into their sessions.

She expected Selerim to dodge, but instead, the bottom of her foot landed squarely against his torso. Gwyn paused for an instant, surprised. It was the first blow she’d landed against him.

That thrill lasted only for the shortest of moments, as he lowered his arm, trapping her foot against his torso. Oh– and then that thought was cut short as he stepped forward, throwing her off balance and sending her tumbling backwards.

Instead of slamming down against the ground, her back stopped just an inch from the dirt– and then softly met it as Selerim let go of her foot.

He leaned down to offer her a hand.

“Thanks.” Gwyn scowled as she took it. “That was new.”

Her brother smiled. “You’re learning quickly.”

“That’s because we’ve been practicing every day.”

“We can take a break if you want.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s… fun. I think I understand why you spent so much time training now.” Besides spending time with her brother, their sparring helped clear her mind. There was something cathartic about the focus that came with it. Between their rushed clashes, there was no room for thought.

“It helps clear your mind, doesn’t it?”

Gwyn nodded. “Yeah. So– is your mind clear enough now?”

“... Yeah.”

“You were still thinking about what mom said. About Eros.”

“Yeah.” Selerim leaned against his staff.

“If something happened, we would have heard about it.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t hear about something if there’s no survivors left to speak,” he said grimly. “They were thorough. It’s just sheer coincidence that I lived.”

She wanted to refute his claim, but knew it was true. “So– what? You think someone’s just going around destroying our villages and killing people?” Gwyn shivered. “That’s… absurd.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Why was our village destroyed?” Selerim asked quietly.

“I don’t know. Are you sure it wasn’t because of Viria?”

He hesitated at that. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But let’s say– just for the sake of argument– that Veile was telling the truth. That it had nothing to do with them.” His voice trembled. “Then why were they there?”

“I can’t think of a reason.”

“Exactly. If there’s no reason, that leaves just one thing. They were there to destroy Cress.”

“That’s…” she trailed off. It was pure conjecture, but there was some sort of logic behind it. And, she realized, it explains two more things. First, that the crates of Hearts and pelts had been left behind. Not just left behind– untouched, still in their crates in the storehouse.

And second, why Cress was chosen. It was, by all means, an odd decision. Even by their people’s standards, their home was decidedly distant; a long distance from even the nearest hunting settlement. It would still be a long, long while before anyone else found the remains of their home.

“But why us?” She frowned.

Selerim scowled. “I don’t know. That’s the thing I don’t understand. But it happened,” he pointed out. “So there was a reason. And we’re pretending that Veile was telling the truth, remember.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But she was focused on some grand vision. I feel ill-prepared for… whatever it is.”

“That’s all the more reason for you to go,” she pointed out. “If it’s something so large, we’ll be in danger either way. Better to have answers before… whatever it is.”

“I know.”

“So what are you worried about?”

“I just am.”

“I know you’ll protect us,” Gwyn said gently.

Selerim nodded. “I’m still worried.”

“All the more reason for me to pursue my own power.”

“Has the doctor said anything else about it?”

“Yeah. He’s preparing something.”

“As long as you trust him.”

“I do… for now.” She sighed. “Even if you have your reasons, he’s been good to us. At the very least, I don’t think he’ll actively put me in danger.”

“I trust your judgement.”

“Thank you.” Gwyn retrieved her staff. “Let’s keep going.”

He stepped back, his own held out in front of him. By the time they finished, every muscle in her body was sore.

image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]

Eros knew something was wrong long before he reached his destination. The dark tides of Umbra carried the scent of blood for days of distance.

He faltered.

Where were their bonds? If they were slaughtered, there was danger her. But– the scent of blood was old. So old…

He flew two more days. By now, the scavengers had already gathered– and departed. He could smell the marrow of broken bones. That was proof enough there were no survivors; no one do accept what he carried.

And he had been taught caution.

But this was to abnormal to ignore. If there were survivors, he needed to know. It took him days and days to separate the many scents from one another. Their traces were tangled and worn thin by the many scavengers– but none had escaped whatever befell them.

And his kin…

Dead with their bonds.

None had noticed impending doom?

Impossible.

But true.

Eros strained his wings, running his feathers ragged over the soft shadows that carried him. He eschewed food, water, and rest as he returned

He would survive.

There was something more important at hand.

image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]

Linua raised her head. There was an inkling in her mind about what the sound was, but relief still washed over her when she spotted Eros. She stood, walking to the desk where he stood and offering him a hand.

“Eros?”

She set him down again and reached for her pack, retrieving her canteen. It was still full– just something she did out of habit. Linua poured water down, flinching as his head greedily lunged for the small stream.

He recovered quickly after that, ruffling his feathers and drawing the shadows around him. It would take time, but he would recover.

“What’s wrong?”

Her Wyrd tapped his beak thrice on her hand– and thrice again after a pause.

Linua’s blood ran cold. Dead. She lifted him higher, checking the pouch on his leg. The letter she’d written was still there, securely fastened in the folded leather.

The shadows flickered, then darkened as Nyx entered, carried by the shadows; flimsy as they were here. She looked nearly comical, her feathers completely fluffed up as she sidled up against her brother.

Unsurprisingly, there was a knock at the door a minute later.

“Come in.”

“”Mom?” Selerim pushed his way in. “Nyx… ah.” He trailed off as he saw the two duskwings standing side by side. “Eros is back.” He paused, seeing the expression on her face. “There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”

“You knew?”

“I had a feeling.”

“All the more reason for you to find your answers,” she said softly. “As it is, I may have to go find another village.”

“Can’t you just wait for a convoy at the gates? They’ll probably just let you in.”

“I haven’t seen any for a long while. Most have already gotten everything they need for the winter. It will be some time until they return.” She sighed. “The timing is bad. If I do go, it should be soon…”

“I can go,” Selerim offered. “It’ll be safer.”

“Perhaps.” She ruffled his hair. “But it’ll be better if I go. You’re still young.”

He nodded.

“I’ll let you know by tomorrow.”

Another nod.

“How is Gwyn?”

“Good. You should join us. Especially if you’re going to go out.”

“I’m not sure there will be time. The sooner, the better. If I go, it should be as soon as Eros recovers.”

“Alright.”

“Are you preparing for your commission?” Linua asked, seeing the wooden bracelet around his wrist.

Selerim retrieved Nyx, then adjusted it. “Yeah. I should bring it, so I’m getting used to wearing it again.”

“It’s still some time away, right?”

“Yeah. I’m still a bit anxious,” he admitted.

“Is traveling there such a big deal? I’m sure merchants do it all the time.”

“It’s different. We’re escorting them back. To meet important people.”

“I know you need answers. Just be careful.”

“I would just send Nyx if I could. But Veile… there’s no way she would accept that.”

“I understand. So don’t worry. Whatever’s waited this long will wait a while more. I’ll be back quickly. Find your answers– and then we decide what to do as a family.” Linua grimaced. “What if it jeopardizes Gwyn? She can’t live in Umbra like we can.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

She smiled. “Like we always do?”

“Like we always do.”