“Alright.”

“See?” Gwyn seemed satisfied with that answer, while Selerim seemed slightly surprised.

“I’m more surprised that your brother is willing to.”

He shook his head at that. “I wouldn’t have stopped her from becoming a hunter. If that’s what she wanted.”

“I see.” Linua ruffled her son’s hair. “I’ll be worried,” she admitted. “But it would be good for Gwyn to get some experience. None of us are entirely sure what the future holds.” Her apprehension was still present– just as it always was– but she knew Gwyn was growing restless. In a different way than her brother, perhaps, but restless all the same.

And, truthfully, the risk was minimal. She made a much longer journey aside Gwyn alone. Selerim was more adept than either of them; and with Nyx, they would never be caught off guard.

“What are you going to do while we’re gone?” He asked, somewhat hesitantly. “You could come with us.”

For a moment, Linua was tempted. Even if life in Cress had never wholly appealed to her, this was an opportunity to spend time with her family; to share in something that Selerim loved so dearly.

“Another time. I have things I need to do here.” And, more importantly, time spent as siblings would do them some good. They’d always been close, regardless of circumstance or argument. It was one of the many, many things that she loved about her children.

There was no doubt in her mind that Gwyn was the one to suggest this. She would happily shelve her desires for their sake: which, of course, made declining the invitation even more important.

“Something to do with the doctor?” Selerim asked, a frown on his face.

“He promised to get me in touch with a broker,” she said gently. “One not affiliated with him. There’s only so much I can do on my own,”

His expression fell. “I know. Sorry.”

Linua tousled his hair again. “There’s no reason for you to apologize. You left behind a life that you loved.”

Selerim nodded once.

“When are you planning on leaving?”

“I don’t know. I want to find armor for Gwyn first. Supplies are easy enough.”

“Armor?”

Another nod. “I’ll keep her safe,” he promised. “But I’d rather her have it than not. And I was thinking of finding armor for both of you. It’s like you said. We don’t know what the future holds.”

No point in arguing with her own logic. “Were you going to do that today? It would be good for you to take a break from training for a few days before going.” Linua had watched their sparring sessions many times. Though grateful they got along well as always, she worried Gwyn was pushing herself too hard.

Not that venturing out into Umbra would be any easier.

“Yeah,” Selerim answered. “We already finished for today.”

“Alright.” Linua smiled. “I’d go with you, but you two should spend some time on your own… what?” She asked, seeing the worry clearly on his face.

“You said you needed to find another village.”

“I do.”

“Let me do it instead.”

“... Why?” It seemed an odd proposition, but he wouldn’t have suggested it without a reason.”

“I have the greatest chance of walking away.”

She frowned. “I made the journey between here and Cress multiple times.”

Selerim scowled. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what… ah.” It took her a moment to ascertain the source of his concern. “You’re worried about… something else.” Those were really the only words that she could use; not a single one of them had any idea what something else really entailed.

His two-tone violet eyes seemed to flicker. “Yeah.”

“What if they don’t listen to you?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“You’re still young,” Linua said gently. “This concerns many more than just us; I fear they may not take a child’s word as truth.” For all of Selerim’s scars, physical and otherwise, he was still a child.

“Do you still have a letter from Corvus?”

“I should.”

“Then it has his seal on it. That should be good enough.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“I want to keep you safe,” he said stubbornly. “Both of you. Even if that means putting myself in harm’s way.”

“We’ll talk about this later.” Linua forcefully ended the discussion. There was no point in discussing it when there were more immediate matters at hand.

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

“Is this really necessary?”

“Yes,” Selerim answered, pulling the leather jerkin over Gwyn’s head and fitting it to her small frame. “It needs to sit just right.” Satisfied with that, he placed the thick winter jacket over her shoulder, finishing it with the cloak he’d given her.

“I feel bloated.”

“You’ll be grateful for the warmth.”

“I know.”

“Can you move around?”

She tested it, then nodded “Enough. Why leather armor?”

“It keeps you warmer. Metal makes you colder. And it’s lighter. Armor only does so much against Reavers. Better to avoid.” He paused. “Leather is also flexible. If a Reaver deforms your armor, that might cause problems.” Selerim handed his sister a pair of leather vambraces. They were heavy; nearly twice as thick as the leather jerkin, and laden with small metal plates.

“Why are these so thick?” Gwyn asked as she settled them into place.

“In case you need to defend with your arms,” Selerim explained. “It might hurt– a lot– but you won’t lose your hand. I’ll be right beside you the whole time, so you won’t need them, but it’s better to have them than not. Here.” He raised her forearm, fastening the straps that it in place. “They need to fit snugly, but not tightly.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“You know mom wants to protect you, too, right?”

His fingers froze in place. “I know.”

“Then you know she feels bad about… everything, right?”

“I know.” Selerim forced his fingers to keep moving.

“Then why?”

“Because it’s better that I do it.”

“Why?”

“How am I supposed to answer that?” He let her arm drop then reached for her other– the one wearing Vane’s bracelet. It rested just below the leather’s edge.“I think I should. I’ll be safer. That’s more than enough reason.”

“You know she feels like she should, too right? That’s why she feels so guilty.”

Selerim frowned, pulling another strap tight. As much as he loved Gwyn, times like these made him truly envious of her ability to read others– something that he distinctly lacked. “Why does she feel like she should?”

“Because she’s our mother. It’s her job to take care of us.”

His fingers froze again.

“You didn’t think of it like that, did you?”

“No.” Selerim shook his head and resumed his task. “I didn’t.” He paused. “But it doesn’t matter. I would rather her be guilty than dead. Or in danger.”

Gwyn shook her head. “Healing doesn’t mean we like the idea of you getting hurt. How do you think mom would feel if you went, and something happened?”

“At least I’ll walk away from it,” he answered brusquely, tightening the last strap. “How does that feel?”

His sister, of course, ignored that question entirely. “And what if whatever it is that heals you stops working?”

Selerim frowned. “You've seen me training. Does it look like it’s going to just stop?”

“No,” she admitted, lowering her arms and testing the fit. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t.”

“Then I shouldn’t go back to the elven kingdom. Who knows how many people over there want me dead.”

Gwyn audibly sighed, raising both hands above her head. “You’re impossible. They feel fine.” She continued after a brief pause. “You know she feels guilty.”

“I do.”

“Don’t you want to ease that guilt?”

“... I do.”

“So go with her,” she said pointedly. “Isn’t that a fair compromise?”

“It is,” he admitted.

“So why are you opposed?”

“Because it’s dangerous.”

“Everything is dangerous.”

It was Selerim’s turn to sigh. “I’ll think about it.” Deep down, he knew his sister was right, but admitting that was difficult. And there were more pressing matters at hand.

“Here.” He pulled a pair of leather greaves from the wall and handed them to her. They were in a small armor shop, kept warm by a small fire that burned in its center. “Put these on.”

The shopkeeper– a tall, black-haired man, was the only one so far that hadn’t commented on their appearance.

Gwyn pulled them on; first her right leg, and then her left.

Selerim waited until she’d finished before crouching down to inspect their fit. “They’re a bit too large,” he said, standing to retrieve another, slightly smaller pair. She sat down to put them on this time, pulling off the first pair and trading them for the second.

Sitting beside her, he pulled the stiff leather past her ankle and onto the shin. It reached slightly less than a hand’s width below her knee. “That’s better.” Pulling the straps just tight enough, Selerim shifted it experimentally. “Stand and see how that feels.”

Gwyn followed his instructions.

“Can you walk okay?”

She took a few experimental steps. While clearly still aware of the leather garments, her stride seemed unimpeded.

“That should be fine.” He stood again, replacing the larger greaves. You should wear them for a day or two before we leave. To get used to it. Now,” Selerim said, somewhat sternly. “I’m doing this with you because I think it’s important. If we have to leave for some reason, you need to know how to take care of yourself.”

She nodded.

“We won’t keep training while we’re out– you’ll be tired enough– but I’m going to teach you other things.”

“Like what?”

“Things you didn’t learn as a kid.” Everyone in Cress received basic survival training: it was considered a necessity. “Like how to gut and skin a Reaver. How to dry its meat. How to turn its pelt into a cloak. Things like that.”

“I don’t know if I can eat Reaver meat.”

“I know. I won’t make you try any– and you shouldn’t– but you should know how to do it. It might be helpful if you’re ever traveling with mom.”

“Alright.”

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

Gwyn was conscious of her every step. Not because she was afraid of stumbling, tripping, or otherwise falling, but because of how odd it felt. The thick winter jacket was one thing; it was soft and supple, moving as easily as she did.

The leather armor– especially the greaves and vambraces– were another thing entirely. Though perhaps flexible by armor standards, they were terribly stiff. They didn’t impede her movement, but it was like moving with a second, stiffer layer of skin on top.

“Why didn’t you buy anything?”

That question was directed towards her brother. It took him a moment to answer. “I don’t need it. I’d rather save the weight.”

She frowned. “I told you. Neither of us like the idea of you getting hurt.”

“I know. But I’m going to get hurt either way. I don’t see the point in carrying it.”

“... Alright,” she acquiesced. “You said we were going to avoid the Reavers, though, right?”

Selerim nodded. “Unless we find a straggler or small pack. I think it would be good for you to get that experience, too.”

Gwyn nodded once. The journey here had been experienced through a haze of delirium and pain; only bits and pieces remained in her memory. A single hunter had escorted them– she knew Selerim had tried to follow them after returning from his hunt, and that Corvus had personally stopped him.

“Are you getting used to your armor?”

She nodded again. It was her suggestion to spend some time walking around before returning. Though perfectly mobile in her outfit, walking still felt strange. Still, it felt more natural than it had before.

“You’ll stop noticing it soon.”

“At least I’m warm.”

The temperature had plummeted in the last few days, hailing the beginning of true winter. No snow had fallen, yet, but she was certain it would follow close behind.

“Do you want to learn how to command Nyx?”

Gwyn nearly forgot how to take the next step. “Really?”

“Yeah,” her brother answered. “I would feel better if you knew how to.”

She frowned. “Aren’t there rules about that?” A Wyrd was something sacred. Not the beast itself; but the bond they shared. It wasn’t something she should intrude on. And the bond between Selerim and Nyx was particularly strong.

“There are. But they don’t matter. Not anymore.”

“... Didn’t even mom have trouble getting Nyx to listen to her?”

“I think she’ll listen to you if I tell her to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not quite,” Selerim admitted. “But you should learn. With Eros, if not Nyx. Ask mom whenever you get a chance to.” He paused. “You want to go, right?”

“I do,” Gwyn answered.

“Alright.” Her brother visibly relaxed.

“Were you worried I felt pressured?”

“A bit.”

“I’m the one that asked you,” she pointed out. “That wouldn’t make much sense, would it? Although,” she admitted, “I’m surprised you still feel the need to go. I thought that was the whole point.”

“It’s not the same,” Selerim said after a brief silence. “Our goal is different. So are the people.” His voice wavered ever so slightly. “I think…” he fell silent again, and when he spoke, his voice trembled. “I was chasing after something that doesn’t exist anymore.”

“I’ll be with you this time,” Gwyn said gently.

“I know. Thank you.”