An Inheritance of Fire

Even as Selerim struck, he knew it wouldn’t cut deep enough. The glossy blue blade sank two inches into the stormwolf’s hide– and stopped. Roaring in anger, the Reaver whirled around, electricity sparking between its claws as it swiped at the hollow– who sidestepped a moment too late. The dagger clattered uselessly to the forest floor as razor sharp claws sheared through Selerim’s armor, tearing into his side and gouging a measure of flesh.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he backpedaled as another bolt of jagged lightning arced to life, crashing down where he’d stood just a moment ago. As he moved, he yanked the chain held in his left hand, snatching the dagger out of the air as it jumped towards him.

Careful to keep the monster in his vision, Selerim glanced down. The wound was shallow, but the sooner he could clean and bandage it, the better. The sound of static grew louder as the stormwolf circled him warily, its bright eyes locked onto his own.

Nearly ten feet from head to tail, sparks danced over its blue-white fur, casting a bright glow that flickered and dimmed as it moved. Luminescent blood leaked from the small wounds that pockmarked its hide, but they were all shallow; little more than a nuisance.

The stormwolf drew its lips back into a snarl as it arched its back and lowered its head. The electricity that danced across its fur seemed to settle, coiling around its form like a serpent of living lightning– and the Reaver dashed forward, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake.

Gripping the dagger in his right hand, Selerim wrapped a portion of the chain’s loose end around his left, holding it taut to catch the strike just before it tore his throat open. Taking advantage of its momentum, he guided the Reaver past him, feeling his bones shudder in protest as it flew over his shoulder.

The monster landed on its feet. Tendrils of electricity flickered around it as it turned to face the hunter. Selerim pressed his lips together and blew a single, shrill note. At the sound, Nyx dropped from the sky. ribbons of velvet shadow streaming around her wings as she tore at the Reaver with talons and beak alike.

Snarling in irritation, the stormwolf snapped at the bundle of shadows, closing on nothing but air. Taking advantage of the distraction, Selerim dashed forward, striking down with his weapon once more. This time the glossy blue blade sank all the way down to the handle. A web of electricity blossomed from the wound, numbing his fingers.

Letting go of his dagger, he ducked under another blow and gripped the chain end of his weapon in both hands. Clamping down on his nerves, Selerim rolled forward on his feet, bringing the links up as he stepped up and in.

In one swift, fluid motion, he wrapped the chain around the outstretched paw and around the base of the other front leg before looping it around the stormwolf’s throat. The monster’s snarl turned into a yelp as it toppled to the side. Stepping back a few paces, Selerim watched as it writhed, tearing at the chain with tooth and claw.

One moment passed.

And another.

Come on…

As if on cue, the dark blue links flashed to life, radiating a deep sapphire light. The Reaver’s struggling slowed, first and eventually stopped. The lightning coiled around its body fizzled and died. Another moment and the stormwolf was completely paralyzed, though its maw was still drawn back in a snarl.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Selerim nudged the beast with one foot. A low growl sounded from the back of its throat, but it remained still. Satisfied that it was well and truly paralyzed, he dropped to his knees.

Selerim’s fingers were engulfed in blue-white fur as he ran a hand down the creature’s neck. Slowing his breath to match its own, he pulled another knife from his waist. Carved from bone, its mottled white surface was chipped and pockmarked.

“I’m sorry.”

With a whispered apology, Selerim dragged the crude white blade across the stormwolf’s neck. Essence-infused blood spattered onto the ground; a splash of murky, iridescent purple against the brown and green of the forest floor.

“May you find peace in death”, he said softly, watching as the light faded from the Reaver’s eyes. Without another word, Selerim fell onto his back, catching his breath as he stared up into the permanent dusk of Umbra.

Selerim hissed as disinfectant trickled onto his injury. Shallow as the wound was, Reavers weren’t known for being hygienic. Satisfied with his handiwork, he tied the bandage off, stowing what remained of the clean white roll alongside the small bottle.

Nyx lighted on his shoulder as he stood. Her talons nearly punctured the thin armor he wore. “Easy, girl,” Selerim whispered as he ruffled her neck. She had the striking plumage of a duskwing; inky black feathers laced with intricate patterns of deep violet.

Normally a hollow– even a hunter– of his age wouldn’t have a Wyrd, but his mother’s position as the village breeder had allowed the two to bond at a young age. It was something that, much to his mother’s chagrin, had pushed him towards the role of hunter. Not that he minded. It was one of the few things he could still share with his father. “Where…?” Selerim wondered aloud as he surveyed the clearing.

As if on cue, three more figures appeared from the forest’s edge. “You’re hurt,” Senri said quietly, gingerly pressing her fingertips to the fresh bandage. Her ash-grey hair, normally unbound, had been tied back, revealing her pale skin and delicate features. She would have looked dainty, if not for her rough hunters garb– and the abnormally long spear strapped to her back.

“It’s just a scratch,” Selerim said, gently grabbing her hand with his own. She laced her fingers through his own, squeezing tightly for just an instant before letting go. “Alright,” she said, clearly not convinced.

“Wooo,” Verad whistled as he eyed the stormwolf’s corpse. “And here I thought you were just slacking off!” Despite being a year younger than Selerim, Verad was taller; and with a head full of crimson hair, he looked more intimidating than the Reavers that he slaughtered regularly. He held a thin blue sword in his right hand, while a heavily armored gauntlet forged from the same material covered his left.

“How many were there on your end?” Selerim asked. “Seven,” Verad answered with a shrug. “Nothing we couldn’t handle…” He sighed, trailing off. “I’m carrying the extras, aren’t I?”

“Duh!” Saya chimed in, sticking her tongue out at the red-haired boy. She had the same ash-grey hair as her sister, but unlike Senri, the rough hunter’s garb suited her tomboyish features just fine. Two long, curved daggers hung from her waist.

Selerim smiled in spite of the nearby corpse. They’d come a long way since they first started out. At first, Saya and Verad had clashed– owing to their similarly fiery personalities– but they’d grown close over the years.

Still. There was work to be done.

“Alright guys,” Selerim clapped his hands once. “Go strip the corpses while I-” he glanced down at the stormwolf’s corpse “-figure out what to do with this.” Verad sighed. “What a waste.” Selerim nodded in agreement. Nyx vanished into the dark as he raised his hand. “You should get going.”

“Yeah, yeah.” With a lazy salute, Verad disappeared back into the forest, Senri and Saya followed close behind. Selerim dropped to his knees beside the dead stormwolf. It really was a waste– even if he could skin the whole thing, he’d never be able to carry it back. He pulled another bone knife from his waist with a sigh. He’d just have to take what he could.

Gripping the handle with both hands, he jammed the blade into the Reaver’s underside. The mottled blade sank all the way to the handle. Bluish-purple blood gushed out as the hollow dragged the blade down, rending a gaping wound in the corpse’s belly. The wound only reached halfway down the body, but it would be enough– hopefully.

Holding his breath, Selerim plunged his hands in. Worry spread as his hands found nothing but blood and entrails, and for a moment he thought he’d have to make the cut longer. But finally, his fingers closed around something hard. He sighed in relief as he pulled the object out.

The core was about the size of his fist. Vaguely spherical in shape, its dark blue surface was perfectly smooth, and even covered in blood, it radiated a bright sapphire light. He could feel the Heart still beating just underneath the gem-like surface, pulling in essence from its surroundings. Selerim wiped the blood from the stone, stowing it in his satchel before doing the same with his knife and hands.

Standing, the hollow considered the now-mutilated corpse once more. There wasn’t much more that he could do– valuable as the pelt was, he’d be forced to leave it. With a final word of gratitude, Selerim went to find the others.

Senri added another piece of firewood to the bonfire, watching as the resulting flare bathed Saya’s face in warm light. Her sister’s face was peaceful, devoid of the grim concentration she’d shown earlier. She really can sleep anywhere, thought Senri enviously.

They were in one of the camps scattered throughout the area. In truth, it was little more than a firepit, a few crude beds, and some household items, but it was still preferable to sleeping on the hard ground. And they were always close to a water source. Senri pushed her sister’s bangs to the side, careful not to wake her. Maybe I’m not cut out for this.

After two years, she still found herself reluctant to put Saya in harm’s way. And the ease with which Selerim had taken command, even if only for a moment…She shook her head. Don’t think like that, she chided herself. Even if you are the same age, he’s been doing this twice as long as you.

Senri forced her thoughts away from useless self-comparisons. She reached for the clay cup that she’d left by the fire and filled it with water from her canteen. This camp had been built near a river, but the late autumn chill had already taken root in the running water. Senri replaced the mug, leaving it just barely outside the fire's flickering reach and carefully counted the passing seconds.

Just as she reached fourteen, a wisp of steam curled up. She reached for the cup again, careful not to spill the hot water over her fingers. Bringing it towards her lips, she cooled the surface with her breath before taking a tentative sip.

The temperature was just right. Hot, but not too hot. And, thankfully, free of the metallic taste that she’d expected. Putting it to cup to the side, Senri reached for her pack. After rummaging around for a moment, she pulled out a small metal container. It was the only personal item she took on hunts, and despite its scratched and battered surface, it was otherwise clean. Opening the box revealed a small orange cube the size of her fingertip. Normally, there would be more, but she was down to her last one. I’ll have to ask the next convoy to get more.

Making a mental note, Senri pulled the small cube free before snapping the thin lid shut and unceremoniously dropping the container back into her bag. The faint scent of citrus wafted through the air as color spread through the hot water. She brought the cup to her lips, careful not to burn her mouth or tongue as she drank.

The tea was tangy, with a sweet aftertaste. More welcome than the flavor, though, was the warmth that blossomed through her body. She took another, larger sip, banishing the last traces of early winter’s icy fingers.

“Mnn…”

The sound of someone waking drew her attention. Senri looked to the side, worried that she’d woken Saya, but instead saw Verad half-sitting to her left, his bright red hair unkempt. “What’s going on?” He asked, eyes bleary.

“Nothing. Just making something warm to drink,” Senri answered, careful not to wake Saya.

“Where’s Sel?”

“I’m sure he’s somewhere nearby.”

Satisfied with that answer, Verad nodded drowsily and slumped back down under his coarse blanket. Where is he? Senri asked herself as she took another sip. Her body ached in protest as she stood, still sore from the day’s skirmish.

The dark of Umbra swallowed the campfire’s meager light within a few steps, plunging her vision into darkness. Not that it mattered– she could see well enough without it. They all could.

Selerim came into view after two more paces. He sat cross-legged on the ground, sketchbook propped open on his knees. Even now, free from the heat of battle, there was a wariness in the way he held himself. The slightest bit of tension in his back. The way his hand never strayed too far from his weapon. Even in his hunter’s garb, it was difficult to imagine that the fragile-looking boy in front of her was such a deadly fighter.

With his mother away, Selerim’s light grey hair, draped over one shoulder, was longer than usual. His shoulders were slimmer than Verad’s, but broader than both hers and Saya’s. His thick leather jacket could hardly be called armor, but it was the only protection that he wore.

Despite that, the smooth, pale skin of his forearms was unblemished. At first glance, one might think his skin fairer than her own, but she knew better than anyone just how many scars he had. She’d bandaged most of them herself, after all.

Senri’s lips curled into a smile as she approached Selerim, taking care to silence her footsteps. He was completely unaware of her presence; focused entirely on something out in the distance. . She stopped just a pace away, leaning over and gently pressing the steaming mug against the back of his neck. Senri laughed as Selerim visibly flinched.

“I could have been a Reaver,” she teased, meeting his ice-blue gaze. “Nyx would have warned me,” Selerim laughed. There was a touch of pride in his voice. “I suppose that’s true.” Senri laughed alongside him, nudging him with the cup. “Drink some. It’s cold out.” He nodded in thanks, taking it with both hands as Senri took a seat beside him, legs to her chest. The sketchbook was opened to his father’s likeness.

“What are you doing?”

“Just thinking. Are Verad and Saya asleep?”

“Mhm.”

“You should get some rest too. I’ll take first watch.”

Selerim took two sips before handing the mug back to her. She accepted it, holding the warm clay between her knees as she took in the dark sky above. Daytime in Umbra was dark, and nighttime was darker still.

The stars above were smothered by the dark sea that surrounded them, rendered little more than specks of light. The moon, for its part, was no more than a sliver of silver. Its meager light was torn apart; spread across the night sky like a shimmering veil. Senri brought the cup to her lips for another sip, but stopped when she noticed Selerim facing her.

“... What is it?” She asked suspiciously. He smiled playfully before answering. “Your face always lights up under the stars.” Senri felt her face redden. “Stop teasing me,” she muttered, hiding her embarrassment behind the worn clay. With the last of the tea gone, she placed the empty mug on the ground beside her.

She leaned towards Selerim, resting her head on his shoulder. They settled into a comfortable quiet, both of them content to enjoy each other’s company in silence. But even without words, she could feel his anxiety.

“You’re worried about them.” It wasn’t a question– she knew him better than that. Senri heard Selerim take a deep breath before answering.

“... Yeah.”

The simple, sincere answer made her heart ache. Senri shuffled in front of him. Selerim stiffened as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Selerim’s warmth mingled with hers as she pulled him close, easing the last of her nerves. She could only hope the gesture did the same for him.

“I’m sure your mother and sister are fine,” Senri whispered. Selerim’s breath was warm against her neck, and she felt his heartbeat quicken to match her own. He took another long breath before responding.

“... I know. It just feels… weird. Being so far away from them.”

“I know.”

As Senri moved to pull away, Selerim wrapped his own arms around her, holding her close. She stiffened in surprise, and then relaxed as his arms came to rest around her shoulders. His grip was firm, but gentle. They stayed like that for some time, neither one daring enough to do anything more. Finally, Selerim broke the silence.

“Thank you.” She shivered as his voice, soft and tender, tickled her ear.

“...Of course.”

For the forty-second time that day, Gwyn wished her brother was with her. Not because she was scared- though it had taken her a few days to adjust to the bright light of the city, she found she liked the constant noise surrounding her. It just felt… odd. Being so far away from him. Even after he’d become a hunter, she’d taken comfort in knowing that he was always there for her. Emotionally, if not physically.

But more than that, it had always been the three of them. Gwyn remembered little of her father, but his death had brought them all closer. Her, Selerim, and their mother- who now paced back and forth anxiously, glancing at the door every so often. “Shouldn’t he be here by now?” She asked, wringing her hands in anticipation.

Gwyn sighed. Jumping up from her seat, she pulled her nervous mother back to the table. “C’mon, mom, just stay still. You’re making me nervous too.” Her mother sat down with a sigh. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I just wish your brother was here with us…” Gwyn nodded in agreement. After their father’s death, her mother hated leaving either of them out of her sight. She’d also hated watching Selerim become a hunter- not that he’d given her much choice.

“He’s fine. Besides,” Gwyn smiled wryly, “we both know how much he hates the city.” Some of the tension bled away as her mother laughed. “That’s true.” Reaching across the table, she grabbed Gwyn’s hands in her own. “How are you feeling?” Gwyn shrugged. “I feel a lot better now.” A look of relief spread over her mother’s face. “I’m glad to hear it.” She hesitated for a moment before considering. “You know, I’ve been thinking…”

The sound of knocking from the door cut her off, startling them both. Gwyn’s mother pushed her chair back, moving to open the door. “That should be the doctor.” Gwyn only nodded, wishing for the forty-third time that day that her brother was there with them.