An Inheritance of Fire

To Viria’s dismay, nothing much happened during the next few days. It was her fault, in a way– the other day’s haze turned into a fever during the night. The following nights were little more than a blur. She heard the fire crackle through the murk of half-consciousness and occasionally felt something shift, but little else.

It took two days to open her eyes.

After so much time in the void, the fire sounded like thunder. It pounded against her head, disorienting her. Viria groaned, but a firm hand pushed her down as she tried to sit.

“Wait.” Selerim’s voice was firm. “Drink first.” He fumbled with something out of her view and then brought it to her lips. It was his canteen.

Viria’s lips tingled at the smooth metal’s touch, but she drank gratefully. The cold water soothed her dry throat, giving rise to an almost euphoric bliss. “Thank you,” she said.

Selerim nodded and lowered the canteen. “I wasn’t sure you would make it,” he said quietly. “I was afraid your burns got infected.”

Viria blinked, trying to force her eyes to focus. The hollow’s expression was gentle, but matter-of-fact. “That bad?” She croaked.

He nodded.

Viria felt her damaged skin crack as she sat up. Most of the pain was gone, leaving her with a faint burning sensation.

Selerim pressed one hand to your forehead. She flinched at the sudden contact, but held still. “You still have a slight fever,” he said. “Can you open the bracelet? You need to eat. Take out extras, if you can.”

A pallet of dried fruits and vegetables appeared in a flash of blue light.

Selerim scooped the contents into his arms. “I’ll make you something to eat,” he said as he turned back to the fire. “Just lie down.”

Viria did as instructed. The gnarled wood of the overhead tree stared back at her. Its pattern was almost dizzying to look at, so she closed her eyes. Now free from unconsciousness, Viria could feel the cold creep over her body, freezing her fingers and chilling her lungs.

“Here.”

She opened her eyes to see Selerim hunched over her. Steam curled up from the crudely carved bowl in his hand. “The broth is a bit thin,” he warned as she took it from his hands. “And we don’t have a spoon. Be careful.”

He was right– the broth was bitter and thin, but Viria welcomed its warmth. She drained the bowl, broth and all, within a couple of minutes.

“I’ll get more.”

Selerim took the empty bowl from her hand and returned with more stew, which she drained just as quickly. Viria wiped her mouth as Selerim took the bowl. “Thank you.”

“There’s more if you want it.”

She shook her head. “I might throw up if I eat more.”

“Alright.”

Selerim set the bowl to the side as Viria lay back down. She felt better after eating. “I’m sorry,” she said. “We had to stop because of me.”

“...”

The silence confused her, but Selerim broke it before she could.

“Why do you keep apologizing?” His voice was gruff, but not unkind. “You’re sick. That’s not your fault. I knew you were wounded, but I forgot. It’s my fault.”

The question– and the sentiment– shocked Viria. “Because it feels like it is,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“I…” She trailed off. The single, one-word question stunned her. “I never thought about it.” She stared up at the gnarled wood, replaying memories over its knotted surface. “Everyone kept telling me it was my fault,” she said slowly. “I guess at some point I started believing them.”

The silence returned. Viria craned her neck to one side. The fire at Selerim’s back shrouded his silhouette in warm light. His expression was unreadable.

“What’s wrong?”

He flinched at the question.

“Nothing.” The hollow stood. “You should go back to sleep– but we need to change your bandages first.” Viria nodded, sitting straight as Selerim retrieved his pack. Her heart quivered at the sight of her charred flesh, but the process was easier this time. She gritted her teeth as Selerim tied the bandage into place. The pain, at least, was less intense.

“Alright. I’m done.”

Viria pulled her clothes back up. “Thank you.”

Selerim turned away as she lay back down, instead stowing away the bandage roll and antiseptic. “Get some rest,” he said. “If you’re feeling better tomorrow, we should start moving again.

Before Viria could say anything else, a wave of fatigue rolled over her. She nodded, unable to do much else, before falling back down into the void.

When Viria woke the next day, her head was clear. Her wounds still ached, but it felt distant now; not a bother unless she focused on it– or shifted her clothing in just the wrong way. It was ironic. The burnt and blackened skin was the one part of her that felt clean. Every other body part; her arms, legs, abdomen– all felt grimy, no doubt due to spending the last two weeks in the same clothes.

The first thing she saw when opening her eyes was Selerim’s back. The fire ran lower than before; smoke wafted up and streamed out across the ceiling of their makeshift shelter. “What are you doing?” Viria asked. She half-crawled out from under her blanket, then thought better of it.

Selerim turned around. “Good morning,” he said softly. “Give me a second. I’ll stoke the fire and heat up some food.”

“Thank you.”

Selerim pressed the same bowl from last night into her hand after some time. Viria brought it to her lips. It was warm, but not steaming hot like the night before.

The hollow hunched over and pressed a hand to her forehead again. “Your fever broke. How do you feel?”

Viria gulped down the last of the stew. “Fine.” She placed the bowl to the side. “Where’s the rest of the food I gave you?”

“In my pack. I need to be able to make something for you if you get sick again.”

“Ah.”

“How do you feel?” Selerim asked again.

Viria curled her fingers experimentally. Last night she’d felt weak, but much of her strength had since returned. “Better.” She looked up at him. “I should be fine to travel.”

The hollow shook his head. “Tomorrow.”

Viria knew he was on edge just from that one word. She threw her covers to the side. “I’m fine. We can start mov–”

Selerim cut her off by shoving her back down. “No,” he said sharply. “I shouldn’t have said that. Take another day to rest.”

No matter how Viria struggled, his arm wouldn’t budge. “Alright,” she acquiesced.

The hollow nodded. “Are you still hungry?”

“No.”

“I’ll boil some water and clean some bandages. It won’t be much, but you should clean up as best you can.”

Viria nodded gratefully as Selerim removed his arm. “Thank you.” Even if cleaning up just entailed wiping off with a damp cloth, it was better than nothing. She closed her eyes, but after so much time sleeping, it refused to return.

When she opened them again, she was surprised to see Selerim sitting by her feet. One knee was propped up on his sword, and his back was pressed to the boulder that formed one of their shelter’s “walls.”

“You don’t have to watch me, you know,” Viria said gently.

“There’s not much else for me to do.”

Viria felt a moment of dizziness as she sat up straight. She felt Selerim’s eyes on her as she settled next to him, but he remained silent. “Why are you so worried?” She asked. “It’s already been a few days. I know you’re eager to leave.”

Selerim kept his eyes fixed on the flickering fire. “Promises made to the dead are important.” There was a tone in his voice that seemed out of place.

Viria tried to keep quiet, but her curiosity won. “You’ve made a promise like that before.” It wasn’t a question– there was too much familiarity to leave any doubt.

The hollow nodded. “I promised my father I’d look after my family.”

His voice, mired with worry, brought Viria’s guilt roaring back. She was the one keeping him from them. “Let’s move, then. The sooner the better.” But as she moved to stand, Selerim grabbed her shoulder.

“No.” His voice and hand were both firm. “We’ll start moving again tomorrow.” His tone made it clear there was no room for argument.

“... Alright.” Viria pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Do you know how much longer it’ll take?”

Selerim shook his head. “Nyx has never been there before. She knows the direction, but not the location.”

“I should recognize the land when we start getting closer.”

“Good.”

Viria looked around. “Where is your… Nyx?” She’d grown more comfortable with the shadowy Reaver, but its intermittent presence was still enigmatic.

“Watching for Reavers.”

“Are there any nearby?”

“Not right now. A few stragglers wandered close while you were sick. They’re dead now.”

Viria looked right at Selerim. Now that she was actively looking for it, she could see the accumulated fatigue pressing down on his shoulders. “You should rest, too,” she said. “You’re tired.” She could see the protest form on the hollow’s face. “No. You know you need to”

The conflict on Selerim’s face lasted a second longer before he nodded. “Alright.” The one-word reply was full of fatigue. “Wake me up if Nyx makes a sound.”

Viria nodded as he lay down in his makeshift bed. Within moments, his breathing was steadied by sleep. She watched Selerim for a moment. He looked peaceful; a stark contrast to the anguish and grief that tortured him during the day.

Viria sighed. Even if the hollow wasn’t outright cruel, he was obviously maintaining some distance between them. She couldn't blame him– not really– but it still stung. I thought we’d grown closer after everything.

They continued the next day. The fire hissed as Selerim dumped snow on it, then fell silent as smoke rose from its grave. They didn’t have much. The only thing Selerim carried beside his pack was his weapon, and all of Viria’s belongings were tucked away in her bracelet. Including Vane’s keepsake.

She threaded essence through the wooden band, and the elderwood sword appeared in her palm. Viria’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the blade’s handle. I’m sorry, uncle. When she glanced back up, Selerim was looking at the weapon.

“Are you going to carry it?” He asked.

Viria hesitated, then nodded. “You said you’d teach me.”

The hollow dipped his head in acknowledgement. “I will. But only after we’re done for the day– making progress is more important.”

Viria nodded her agreement.

“Do you have all the firewood?”

Another nod.

“Then let’s go.”

Viria ducked out from beneath their little shelter for the first time in nearly a week. A breathtaking sight greeted her. Last night brought more snow with it. An undisturbed layer sat on top of the packed snow in between.

Even without looking for it, Viria could see the trapped essence writhe below the surface; liquid sapphire light that endlessly shimmered and morphed as far as the eye could see. The blue light melded with the surrounding darkness, seeping into the endless black and giving way to a deep navy color.

“Wha…” Viria’s breath caught.

“It happens in the plains,” Selerim said from beside her. “There’s no trees to catch the snow, so it all lands in layers. If the lower ones melted and refroze, it’ll be easier to walk.”

Even in the relative bright, Viria couldn’t make out the end of the treeline. “It’s beautiful.”

A smile twitched at the corner of Selerim’s lips. “I guess you wouldn’t have seen it.” The hollow looked out into the dark. “Once we’re past the plains, I won’t know the land.” His voice carried a warning. “Be careful.” He looked back at Viria. “Are you ready? If so, let’s go.”

Viria nodded.

Selerim stepped forward first, and she followed close behind.

Selerim was right. The ground beneath their feet was more solid now. Instead of reaching Viria’s calves, it only came up to her ankles. She could still feel her feet getting drenched, but not every step was a struggle like before.

He’d also been right to give her another day of rest. Though she felt physically fine, the illness had taken its toll. Viria struggled to draw in enough air, and the accumulated fatigue only made it worse. She struggled to take another breath– and jumped as a hand clasped her shoulder. From the front.

Selerim’s lavender eyes were filled with concern. “How are you holding up?”

For what felt like the fiftieth time, Viria found herself envious of the hollow’s hardiness. Despite his light clothing, Selerim was perfectly unbothered by the luminescent snow that caked his hair and garb.

Viria shook her head. “I’m fine.” She had to force the words out. Something that Selerim no doubt noticed.

“We’ll stop soon.”

She nodded.

“See that?” The hollow pointed to a nearby snowbank. “Just make it there. And then we can set up for the night.” Viria nodded again.

It took them a few minutes to reach the small mound. Selerim went to work immediately, kneeling in the show to pull a tarp from his pack. He laid it down before cutting a square-shaped hole into the ground.

He pulled the snow block free and set it to the side before repeating the process twice more, making a shallow hole large enough for both of them to comfortably lay down in. He arranged the snow blocks to block the wind and reached one hand towards Viria. “Firewood?”

She wove essence into her bracelet and handed him a chunk of dried wood. He’d prepared quite a bit while Viria was still sick, in anticipation of this tree-less part of the journey.

A few seconds later, a bright orange flame sparked to life. Viria handed him three more pieces of firewood, and before long, a roaring fire burned in front of them. She held her hands in front of the flickering bonfire, sighing in relief as it warmed her fingertips.

“How long will we be in the plains?” She asked.

“At least another week. Maybe longer.”

Viria grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Selerim’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp. “It’s not your fault.”

She nodded, unconvinced. Viria ran her fingers over the handle of Vane’s sword. It was cold. Selerim had cobbled together a belt loop of sorts after noticing her struggle with carrying it.

“Are you still going to teach me?” She asked quietly.

“...” Selerim was quiet for a moment as he stoked the fire. “Yes,” he said finally. “But not yet.” He held up one hand placatingly as Viria stiffened. “You’re still tired. Trying to learn now will only make things more difficult.”

Viria gritted her teeth, but couldn’t deny it. “Tomorrow, then.”

“And if you’re still tired?”

Viria tightened her grip on Vane’s sword.

“I won’t be.”