An Inheritance of Fire

Selerim’s breath caught as he took in the carnage. An entire section of the forest, stretching as far as the eye could see, had been burned away. The charred and twisted husks of trees scattered black soon in the wind, choking the air. The smell of charcoal and ash filled Selerim’s nostrils as he stepped into the ashen landscape.

He paused for a moment, pulling a handkerchief from his waist and holding it over his nose and mouth before trudging onward. The thick layer of ash reached his ankle. What happened? Selerim had never seen anything like this. Was it a pack? He wondered, but quickly discarded the idea. Most Reavers were little more than beasts, lacking the self-awareness and coordination to work as a single unit. There were some exceptions– like Nyx and her brethren– but that lack of cohesion was why settlements like Cress could exist in the first place. As if summoned by the thought, Nyx descended. Each stroke of her shadow-wreathed wings caused a wave of ash and soot. She landed on Selerim’s arm as he raised it, and the tattered remains of her veil fell away soundlessly.

“What is it?” Selerim asked. Anyone else might have missed it, but he could tell that his Wyrd was unnerved. Her eyes were slightly too wide, and her usually still form trembled ever so slightly. “Show me,” he said gently.Nyx raised her wings. The shadows cast by the trees’ burn corpses quivered as she took flight, and threads of woven darkness leapt to follow in her wake. The ash-laden air grew thicker as Selerim followed.

He slowed as Nyx landed atop a small ridge just ahead. A wave of heat washed over Selerim as he slowed to a stop. Rather than a ridge, Nyx was perched on the edge of a small crater. Still-burning embers were embedded in the soft downward slope, though their dying light dimmed with each passing moment. A small flame burned weakly at the center’s crater, sheltered by the piles of ash that surrounded it.

Selerim took one tentative step onto the incline, only to stop as Nyx cried in warning. He turned to face her. There was an intensity in her eyes that he’d never seen before. Still, she would have done more if he was in immediate danger. He offered the duskwing his free hand, and she stepped up tentatively. “Watch over me, okay?” Selerim asked. His Wyrd ruffled her feathers in response, but made no move to disembark.

The heat grew as he carried her down the center, careful to avoid the glowing embers. It was larger than it looked from the top, and as they came closer, Selerim realized what he’d thought were ash piles were Reaver corpses. Nearly a dozen and a half in total, each had been burned beyond recognition. He cautiously reached towards one, ready to snatch his hand away at a moment’s notice, but Nyx remained silent. Selerim tugged on the creature’s charred fur with one hand. It came away with a fistful of foul-smelling black dust.

Dusting his hand off, Selerim tied the handkerchief in place and leaned over, pressing his shoulder into the dead Reaver’s mass. Slowly– painfully– he turned the massive carcass onto its side. He adjusted the makeshift mask before reaching to pull himself onto it. Or rather, into it. Selerim’s boot fell into a ragged hole that had been torn in the monster’s chest. It landed among the half-burnt with a sickening squelch. He staggered at the unexpectedly deep step, but caught himself before toppling in head-first. Regaining his balance, Selerim removed his foot from the unnatural cavity. His boot was caked in black soot, but there was no blood. The wound had been cauterized from the inside out. Selerim leaned over to inspect the wound more closely. Its Heart was nowhere to be seen.

Selerim leapt down from the corpse. A thick cloud of ash rose from the impact. He briefly considered checking the other corpses, but quickly discarded the idea. Reavers consuming the Hearts of others was a common phenomenon. Even so, the thought made him uneasy. If it was a Reaver, it had wiped out eighteen others on its own– and that was before it took their Hearts. More importantly, it was nowhere nearby. Nyx was too calm to suggest otherwise.

Selerim grunted as he pushed the corpse aside, stooping down to protect the small flame it protected. Warmth bathed his face as the dying flame flickered in the wind. Pale read– nearly pink– in color, there was nothing about it that seemed extraordinary. And yet, presumably, whatever Reaver committed the surrounding slaughter had left it behind. The blackened earth cracked under his feet as he knelt. Selerim stared into its fading warmth, trying to find anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing. He kicked ash onto the weak flame as he stood, watching as the pale red light flickered and died.

Auvun crashed to the forest floor as pain wracked his body. He had miscalculated. The firebird’s breathing was labored, and with each ragged breath he took, a wave of flame escaped, lighting the forest around him and leaving only ash in its path. In his fervor, he had consumed too much, too fast. A fact that the poison lurking in his body had taken advantage of. He could feel lit, wrapped around his Heart like a thick, corrosive blanket. Its putrid touch corrupted every lick of flame that sparked to life.l

Never before had Auvun failed to control fire– never mind his own– but the poison had grown too strong. And with each wave of flame that it drove from his body, he felt himself grow weaker. Already, the surrounding forest had been engulfed. Auvun willed it to slow as pale red light jumped across the canopy, but that was all he could do. It was fitting, in a way. He had been born of fire. And now, when the poison stripped his soul down to the barest of threads, the same flames that had given him life would take it. It could take days. Weeks. Years, even. But now, Auvun no longer had the power to resist. And so he did the only thing he could.

He waited.

Selerim trickled water onto his ash-caked boots. He watched as it scoured the worn leather clean, then took a long drink. He savored the way it soothed his dry and cracked throat. It had taken him nearly an entire day to completely explore the charred section of forest. Selerim replaced the stopper, swapping the canteen for his sketchbook before tossing his back down and sitting with his back to a nearby tree. Nyx landed on his raised knee and eyed him expectantly. He absentmindedly scratched her neck.

Stretching nearly two leagues in every direction, nothing had survived whatever so dramatically transformed the landscape. He’d found dozens more corpses. Each one bore a gaping wound in place of its Heart. “What should I do?” He opened the pages to his father’s likeness. “What would you do?” He was far from Cress. That much was certain. The chance that whatever had wreaked such havoc would find his home was slim– but not nonexistent.

If it is a Reaver, he thought, I want it. If he could Feast on it, what would it give him? Nyx hopped onto his shoulder, as if she knew what he was thinking.

“It has to be weak, right?”

No matter how strong the Reaver was, it would surely have to recuperate after exerting itself in such a grand fashion. And, he admitted silently. I want its power. Not just for himself. To protect his family. He snapped the sketchbook shut. That was all that mattered. Nyx stepped onto Selerim’s hand as he stood. He rested his head to hers solemnly. “Let’s hunt.”

It took Selerim five days to follow Nyx to their mark. He could have done so sooner, if not for the violent pain that bound him halfway through the second and into the third. Though clearly worried, Nyx had stopped protesting after the third, apparently resigned to his dogged– if not idiotic– resolve.

In the end, it was the smell of smoke that drew them. Selerim caught the scent of wood first, followed by the sound of crackling flames. Nyx took over from there. Within minutes, a vivid glow permeated the air above the forest, shining through the dusky haze. It grew brighter as he approached. By the time he reached the fire’s edge, the unnatural light was almost too bright for him.

A thin ring of pale red fire, the same color he’d seen before, crept along the ground, leaving nothing but ash and cinders behind it. It was as if what lay beyond was a different world entirely; one built on ash and embers. Selerim retied the handkerchief over his mouth and nose before stepping onto the ashen ground.

It was hot, now, but the air was clearer than before. Still-smoldering embers ate away at the trees, as if some sort of glowing parasite. Fiery rivers arced through the air, spinning a luminescent, ethereal web across the burning forest. Despite the flickering flames, there was no smoke. The sight was beautiful, in a way.

Entranced, Selerim reached out. Even as his finger approached the thin ribbon of flame, there was no burning sensation. He instinctively pulled back as his finger touched the thin orange line, but it licked harmlessly against his flesh. After a moment’s hesitation, Selerim reached out again. This time, he felt something pulse within; a steady, rhythmic cadence. Like a heartbeat. And, more than that, it was moving. Flowing in one direction. As if being drawn somewhere.Looking up, Selerim realized his mistake. He’d thought the luminescent rivers were spreading the fire, leaping from tree to tree, but each one led deeper into the ashen grave. “Nyx,” he whispered. She flickered into being on his shoulder.

If he thought her uneasy before, the duskwing was terrified now. Every one of her dark feathers stood on their ends, and her wide eyes were unblinking. “Stay safe,” Selerim said. His Wyrd vanished without a sound. She would keep watch from above, and no more. Selerim lowered his makeshift mask for a moment. The air was hot and dry, but thankfully, free of the ash that had choked him before. Sighing in relief, the hunter trudged onwards, cautious of the falling embers. The thin streams of flame led Selerim to the edge of the burning forest. Another ashen graveyard lay just ahead. Now, though, cinders were scattered throughout the landscape. Each flickered its own erratic heartbeat.

He looked around for a moment, trying to find some means of navigation. The only landmarks the wasteland offered were the charred, twisted corpses of trees, and then firelight made it impossible to see the stars above. Normally Nyx could lead him through, but Selerim wanted her as far from harm as possible. If anything happened to her, he was as good as dead. He hesitated. Should I turn back? He wondered, then shook his head. I’ve already come this far.

Even in his dreams, the poison tormented Auvun. It stole from the essence that flowed into his body, seeping into his mind and giving shape to the many fears nestled next to his heart. His homeland, razed to the ground. Ignisaria’s tranquil eyes, devoid of life. Though they lasted but a moment, each image burned itself into his mind, leaving his psyche in tatters. He knew it was just another of the poison’s insidious machinations. It wanted nothing less than to weaken his mind and corrupt his will. Once it had done so, it would burn him down to the last cinder. And, try as he might to resist, he could feel his grasp become more feeble.

A ripple spread over the Auvun’s consciousness, but the sensation was distant. Muted by the poison’s corruption, no doubt. He felt a twinge of guilt. Whatever creature had disturbed him was dead, now. The fire would take hold in its flesh, and it would join Auvun in death soon enough. Another ripple spread, followed closely by another. And then another. Each was more insistent than the last. They stopped after five more beats. Without the disturbance, Auvun found himself entangled in his corrupted dreams once more.