An Inheritance of Fire

Selerim looked up at the door in front of him. Set into the white walls, it was twice as large as the one leading to Gwyn’s room. Why am I here? He asked himself.

The doctor.

The one treating Gwyn.

And though this was to be their first meeting, Selerim he’d heard of this mysterious person before. Veile warned him about– right after she watched Vanis cut his head off. Multiple times.

He shivered. It’s in the past. Stop thinking about it. That– unsurprisingly– proved difficult. The pain was one thing. Selerim was used to that. It was a physical thing; something that he could ignore. But the uncertainty… That was another thing entirely. memory.

Selerim’s pulse rose and his vision blurred as the fear and anxiety of those moments came rushing back. The image of his own headless body still burned bright in his memory, and he could still feel Vanis’ liquefied skin dripping over his hand.

He’d practically seared her in half.

Stop it. You know better. Selerim reached for the many lessons that Corvus had taught him; chief among them was remaining calm. Bit by bit, his pulse steadied. The doctor, he reminded himself. That’s what you’re here for. He banished the last of his trepidation and pushed the door open– then squinted as bright light streamed into his eyes.

“Is it too bright?”

There was the sound of rustling cloth, and darkness reclaimed the room– not completely, but enough to soothe his eyes. The shadows revealed a golden-haired man. He peered at Selerim curiously for a moment before understanding visibly dawned on his face. He wore a frontless white coat that reached his knees.

“I take it you’re Selerim. Your mother told me to expect you. I was wondering when you’d show up.” He paused. “She mentioned that your eyes had changed color. Something to do with your Feast?”

“I…” Selerim trailed off as Veile’s warning whispered in his ears. But the man in front of him helped his family of his own volition– he deserved gratitude, not suspicion.

To an extent, at least.

“Yes,” he said, banishing it from his mind. Veile proved that he couldn’t trust her– and so far the person in front of him had done the exact opposite. “My family said that you provided for them. Thank you.” Selerim bowed as he spoke.

A look of surprise spread over the doctor’s face as he straightened. “Your mother said I should expect some level of suspicion from you.”

Selerim felt a flash of irritation at that, but he quickly doused it. His mother and sister had been left alone in this strange land, and he’d helped them of their own volition. “You should,” he admitted, “but you helped my family. I’m grateful for that.”

“I see.” The man gestured to the seat in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

“I’d prefer to stand,” Selerim said warily. He was still a stranger, after all.

“Then I will do the same. I suspect your mother already informed you, but my name is Varus. I’m the doctor overseeing your sister’s health.” Varus clasped his hands behind his back as he spoke. “Putting that aside for now, she also mentioned you may need my help. May I ask, with what?”

Selerim removed his bracelet. It was a simple thing; a band of mottled green-and-brown wood, with a number of small glyphs carved into its surface, but he valued it beyond what he could say with words. It carried his entire village’s wealth with them, all the Hearts and pelts collected right up until its destruction.

But he valued it beyond monetary worth. It was reminder of a promise made to the dead. More than that, though, it was a keepsake. A memento, given to him by an elf that he’d spent nearly a year of his life alongside.

Viria.

Her uncle was buried in the dark of Umbra, but she’d clung to his last words, insisting that he take it with him. Selerim had been hesitant to accept, but he’d come to appreciate its presence. Though they were apart now, he’d shared many moments with Viria. Many were dark, but there was real warmth and tenderness interspersed between the violence and grief.

He forced his mind away from her. There were more important things at hand. “How much did my mother tell you?” He said quietly.

“She said your village was destroyed. Not much else.” He paused. “I must warn you, I have no interest in aiding a quest for revenge.”

Selerim shook his head. “I don’t need your help with that,” he said thinly. “I need your help with this.” And walked forward, bracelet extended in one hand. “It’s everything that was left.”

Varus’ eyes flashed with recognition, and then surprise. “I see.” He took the bracelet in both hands, cradling it gently. A faint blue hue enveloped his body.

Selerim inadvertently took a step back at the sight. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as the same fear and anxiety from before filled his veins. “You’re a mage.” His own voice sounded distant.

“One of little talent, but yes. I was fortunate enough to have a useful Sigil,” Varus responded. “You seem unwell. Is something the matter?”

Selerim forced his breath to steady. “It’s nothing.” He tried to believe it. “Can you help us, then?”

“I don’t see why not– although I will say, there’s quite a bit. Hearts are always in demand, but it may take some time to find a buyer capable of purchasing the whole lot. Is that alright?”

He hesitated. “My family needs money. We don’t have much left. And we need to pay you back for your hospitality, as well.”

“Nonsense. Your sister is my patient. There’s no need–”

“No,” Selerim interjected fiercely. “We repay our debts.”

“I see.” Varus’ look turned thoughtful. “How about this, then?” He pulled a drawer out from his desk and removed a small object, handing it to Selerim.

It was a small amulet, shaped out of smoky black glass. A small insignia was encased inside: the stylized head of an owl. It was gold in color, and refracted what little light was in the room. The pendant hung from a small chain.

“Give that to your sister. Any merchant will accept it, and charge me directly instead. Once your goods have sold, I’ll deduct whatever you owe me.” Varus paused. “I understand this requires some level of trust, but I suspect you’re more inclined to trust me than someone else.”

Selerim hesitated. It was true, but…

“Why are you helping us so much?” I know you’re a doctor. We had one in Cress, too. But this…” He trailed off. “This is different.”

“I see. This is what your mother meant.” Varus’s head dipped as he sighed. “I understand your suspicions. If you survived the destruction of your home, then I have some idea of what you’ve been through. And so, I will be honest with you.” He raised his head to look straight at Selerim. “Eventually, I would like your sister’s help.”

The golden-eyes doctor raised a hand as Selerim stiffened. “But there are two things you should know in addition to that. One,” he lowered his other fingers, leaving only the pointer extended. “I will only ask for your sister’s help. She is free to decline. And two,” he raised his middle finger alongside the pointer. “She will be as safe as is possible. I promise you that.”

Selerim struggled to digest that. “What do you need her help with? She’s–”

“What has your family told you about Gwyn’s condition?”

“... Not much,” he admitted.

“I see.” Varus took a seat behind his desk, reaching for a sheaf of paper. “This will require some explaining. Is that alright?”

Selerim nodded.

“You call me a doctor– as does everyone else– but I consider myself a researcher.”

“A researcher?”

“Yes. Of people, to be precise.” He pointed to Selerim. “For instance. When you eat, your strength returns. But do you know why it does?”

“I…” Selerim trailed off. He shook his head. “This is all beyond me. Keep it simple.”

“I understand.” Varus shifted in his seat. “When your sister first arrived, she was on the verge of suffering a rupture.”

Rupture. That one word was enough to send Selerim into a state of panic. He’d seen the gruesome effects it had. It had happened right in front of him.

“What?” He asked, fighting to remain steady as the world spun. “But– but she’s alive. And she’s a hollow– just like me. How–”

“There have been instances before,” the golden-eyed doctor said. “Not many, but they exist. Your sister is the first in quite some time.”

Selerim struggled for the right words. “But she’s a hollow,” he repeated. “Magicless. How?”

“And that’s the real question,” Varus agreed. “I would like to take the opportunity to study her while it comes. It may be of help to your people in the future. And if she does develop into a mage–”

“Mage?” Selerim interrupted.

The doctor nodded.

My sister. A mage. Selerim recoiled from the thought, then vehemently pushed it back. She’s my sister, he thought fiercely. No matter what. He tried to find some fault in the golden-haired man’s words, but always returned to one thing.

“... You’re going to ask?” He stressed the word.

“And she is free to decline.”

Selerim let out a breath. “Alright.”

Varus leaned back and laced his fingers together, resting them on his lap. “Is that all?”

Selerim hesitated. “No,” he admitted.

“How else may I be of assistance?”

“I…” He trailed off, unsure of where to even begin. “I was a hunter in my village.” Hunter. Selerim had always been proud of the title, but in the aftermath of Cress’ destruction, he hadn’t so much as thought of himself as one. “My mother, my sister… They’ll be fine here. They can adjust to city life.”

The words came easier now. “But not me. I… I belong in the dark. I want to go back into Umbra.” The last seven felt like a betrayal, but Gwyn’s insistence soothed its bite. “I just… don’t know how to. Things are so different here.”

“I see.” Varus’ expression turned thoughtful. “In truth, that in itself is a simple thing. Umbra is deadly– but also a great resource. There is no shortage of work to be done. And given your status as a hollow, you would be safer than most. Especially considering your experience as a hunter. But,” he pointed at Selerim. “There’s a problem. Your identity.”

“My identity?” The hollow repeated.

“Correct. Not in the literal sense, but in the context of his country. Everyone in this country has one of these.” He pulled a small metal card from his hand. An impossibly intricate pattern decorated its smooth surface, rippled in some areas, and branching like lightning in others.

“What is that?”

“An identity card. Our bodies store essence, and that takes a different shape in every person. They’re imprinted on this card.” Varus smiled thinly. “This is one of the many differences between your people and those here. Foul play is common in the shadows, after all.”

“If it uses essence…”

He nodded. “You see the problem. Your sister may be one thing, but there’s not a hint of essence in your body, and that… complicates things even further.”

Selerim closed his eyes. Part of him was relieved– he was still just as magicless as before. No matter what his Feast had done. “Then–”

Varus cut him off. “I could offer my assistance.” Rather than gratitude, those words evoked suspicion.

“Why would you take that risk?”

He shrugged. “You’re still suspicious of me– and you have every right to be. This is a small price to pay to assuage those suspicions.”

“I see.” Selerim bowed. “Thank you.”

“However– I recommend you find some way to conceal your identity.” The doctor smiled wryly. “Your people are still shrouded by a veil of mystery. It serves as protection, in a way. It’s in your best interest to preserve that.”

“... I have something like that already,” Selerim said quietly. And he did– a plain mask, One of the gifts Veile offered before he left. He’d only accepted it after careful consideration.

“From where?” Varus smiled wryly. “If it’s something from this city, I’m afraid that’s easily trackable.”

“It’s not.”

The doctor nodded. “Then it will suffice. If that’s all, then I’ll find some way to contact you when you’re ready. Is that all?”

Selerim hesitated. He’d waited for this moment. Practiced it, even, when his mother and sister were both asleep. “No,” he said, reaching for one of his bone knives. Though his sword stood out too much, he insisted on carrying the few he had left.

Varus’ eyes widened, but Selerim shook his head. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly. “But I’m going to make you a promise. Gwyn…” He trailed off. “Gwyn and mom. They’re important to me.”

“As they should be. But–”

“No.” Selerim cut the doctor off. “They’re the most important people to me.” That had always been true, but he’d clung to the feeble knowledge of their survival during their separation. Without that, he might’ve gone mad.

He let anger creep into his voice. Not the fiery anger he’d grown used to, but an icy anger that carried a deadly certainty. “If any harm comes to them, I will kill you. No matter what.”

Varus stared at him in silence for a moment before speaking. “I know what your people are capable of,” he said slowly, “but you’re hopelessly out of your depth. A mage would behead you before you take a single step.

Selerim smiled, taking a dark, savage pleasure in that truth. “Be that as it may, I still burned a mage in half. A great one, I’m told.” As he spoke, he raised the bone knife to his neck.

And before he could second guess this course of action, he dug the point into his flesh– and dragged it across his neck. Selerim distantly heard the sound of something falling, but it was drowned out by the pain.

It blossomed across his flesh, trailing molten blood in its wake. It trickled down his neck and seeped back into his throat, burning the fragile skin before repairing it moments later. Selerim choked, and then coughed, bringing his hand up to his mouth to stop the spray– and burning his hand in the process.

He forced the pain from his mind. He’d agonized over this. A hand wound was far from mortal, and without that, his threat carried little weight. The heart was another option, but that was harder to reach– and even more painful.

In the end, this was easiest.

Within moments, the mortal wound he’d inflicted was gone, leaving behind not even a hint of blood. As Selerim’s vision cleared, he realized the doctor was standing. His golden eyes were even wider than before.

“It doesn’t matter,” Selerim rasped. “No matter how many times you sever my limbs, or– or behead me.” He took a deep breath and forced his breath to steady. “No matter what, I will find you– and kill you. Do you understand?”

“... Fascinating.”

He blinked. Of all the reactions he’d expected, that was not one of them.

“Yes, yes, I understand,” the doctor waved his hand hurriedly. “No harm will come to them. You have my word. But you,” he pointed to Selerim. “Your Feast. How long ago was it?”

“About a year,” the hollow answered instinctively, taken aback by the loss of composure.

“A year? Where did you spend that year?”

Selerim’s eyes narrowed. “In Umbra,” he said firmly. He trusted his family– he didn’t trust the man in front of him.

“Hmm…” The same thoughtful look returned, but more intense than before, somehow. Varus muttered incomprehensibly before shaking his head. “No matter. There’s nothing we can do for the time being. We’ll talk again when I have more to offer you.”

Selerim was still uneasy, but all his goals had been met. “Alright,” he said, bowing once more. “It felt odd to do so, considering that he’d threatened Varus moments ago, but he left without fuss.

“I will, of course, return the bracelet to you as soon as negotiations are finished.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, threads of velvet shadow coalesced atop his shoulder, revealing Nyx. He coaxed the duskwing onto his hand and pressed his head to her silky plumage. “Thanks, girl,” he whispered.

Varus waited until the hollow’s footsteps receded before slumping back in his chair. How many times have I come close to death? He wondered as he stared up at the ceiling. First the boy’s mother, and now himself, as well…

“Haah.” He sighed. He’d thought the boy mad when he’d cut his own throat, but that clearly was not the case.

And now there was yet another threat to account for. Selerim was a wild card– his loyalties lay with his family, and no one else. I’ll have to be more careful with Gwyn.

Despite the lingering threat, a smile crept across Varus’ lips as he reached for the elderwood bracelet. Something that he’d coveted for so long– and now he had it. For now, at least. But that was all that mattered. He would have more soon enough.

He rolled the wooden band in his hands. I have everything that matters now. How long will it take, I wonder? Varus closed his eyes. No matter. I’ve already decided to dedicate my life to this. Despite the new threat looming over him, he smiled.

Things were progressing smoothly.

“Voja,” he muttered. “Please don’t interfere.”

But he knew that was an impossible ask.

Linua looked up as the door opened, just in time to see Selerim step into the room. “How did it go?” She asked uncertainly.

Gwyn, seated in her mother’s lap, rushed up embrace her brother. “What did he say?”

Selerim returned the hug briefly before extricating himself. “He agreed to help. He’ll keep what we owe him.”

A great weight lifted off of Linua's words at that. “That’s good.” She laughed. “Really good.” It had been a constant worry of hers; they couldn’t keep relying on the doctor’s hospitality. “Did he agree to help with…?” She trailed off, unwilling to voice the question– despite her previous agreement.

Selerim nodded.

“I see. I’m… glad.” Linua forced the last word out. At that, her son walked forward and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “And… thank you.”

She returned the gesture without even a hint of reluctance. “I might not agree with what you want to do,” Linua said softly, “but I want you to be happy. This is a small price to pay.” She pulled away. “Just… promise me you’ll stay safe. Even if you’ve survived having your head cut off.”

“I promise.”

“That’s enough for me.”

Selerim pulled away.

Linua ruffled his hair. Even if his eyes were different now, even if he’d changed during their time apart, he was still her son. Nothing would ever change that– nor the love she had for him.

“What do you want to do, then? We don’t have much money left, but I don’t want to just stay cooped up here all day.”

“Ah.” Selerim pulled something from his pocket. It was a simple chain. A small black pendant hung from it, while something golden glittered at its center. He offered it to Gwyn. “He said to give this to you. He said… He said we can use it in place of money.”

“That means it’s valuable, doesn’t it?” Linua asked, concerned. “We can’t keep relying on him…”

Selerim shook his head. “We made a deal. He’ll take some of the money once we sell everything.” He hesitated. “Although I don’t know how long that’ll take. I should have asked. Sorry.”

Linua smiled. “It’s fine. You’ve done more than enough already.” She turned to Gwyn. “It’s… it’s been a while since we did anything. As a family. How about we go out for a while, all three of us?”

Selerim smiled at the sight of his sister joyfully darting from stall to stall. His eyes still stung from the midday bright, but the sight of Gwyn’s happiness was well worth the mild discomfort.

“She looks like a kid again,” his mother laughed at his side.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “She does”. For the first time in nearly a year, everything felt right.

… Or at least, as right as it could.

“You're still a kid too, you know. But let’s catch up before she gets away from us.”

Selerim moved to follow his mother, but something caught his eye after just a few paces. A stall decorated with open notebooks and a variety of charcoal sticks. A lone man of average height stood behind it, arms crossed. He was dressed simply, with black hair.

The black-haired man uncrossed as Selerim approached. “I don’t see your kind often,” he paused. “Your eyes are a different color. Are you a mixed-blood?” He asked curiously.

Selerim shook his head.

“Ah, well. No matter.” He gestured to his stall. “See anything that catches your fancy? I made all of these myself. Some of them have Reaver hide covers… although I guess you wouldn’t find that all too impressive.” The man chuckled.”

“What are those?” Selerim asked, pointing to a frame hanging from the stall legs. “I recognize the charcoal sticks, but not those.” A number of small sticks were set into the frame’s fabric. Some were metal, others wood, and others still some material that he didn’t recognize. All bore a strange metal protrusion on one end.

“These?”

He nodded.

“These are pens. You’ve never seen them before?”

“No.”

“I see. Well, I guess that’s not so surprising. These are new.”

“Are they for drawing?”

“Yes.”

“But… how?” Selerim asked hesitantly. “I don’t see any charcoal.”

“It works a bit differently. When you rub charcoal against paper, the dust sticks to it. That’s why you can draw with it.” The man reached for one of the pens as he spoke, simultaneously setting a sheet of paper in front of Selerim. Its surface was littered with dark blue marks.

“But it also rubs off. Pens use ink, and the paper absorbs it.” He dragged the pen’s metal head across the paper, leaving a trail of the same dark blue behind it. “It takes a second to dry, but afterwards, it won’t rub off.” He rubbed the mark with his finger to demonstrate. “See?”

Selerim nodded. Maintaining his drawings was difficult.

“Want to buy one, then? You seem interested.”

“I don’t have any money.”

The merchant’s face fell, but his smile returned a moment later. “Getting ready to head back into the darkness, huh? I don’t envy you.” He winked. “I’ll be here next time. Make sure to drop by.”

Selerim nodded again, but before he could step away–

“What are you looking at?”

– Gwyn’s voice sounded from behind. His sister stepped up as close to the stall as possible, inspecting the sheet of marked paper. “Is it drawing stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“Were you going to buy something?” She asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have any money.”

Irritation passed over Gwyn’s face. “Yes, we do.” Before Selerim could stop her, she pulled the necklace from around her neck. “Here.” She placed it on the counter after a moment’s hesitation. “The person who gave it to me said we could use this instead of money.”

The man’s eyes widened momentarily. “Where’d you get that, girlie?” He asked cautiously. “If you stole it…”

“She didn’t,” Selerim interjected. “Someone gave it to her.”

“Gave it, huh?” The human seemed to consider that for a moment. “Well, I suppose those folks do stranger things. Well then, take your pick. Anything you like.”

“I don’t want anything,” Selerim protested, taking a step back.

“Sel.” Gwyn caught one of his hands in her own. “Just get something.” Her expression softened. “Think of it as a gift from me. Please.”

“... Fine,” Selerim acquiesced. “But then you should pick it.”

His sister huffed but turned back towards the stall. “Fine. That one, then.” She pointed to the frame with the other pens. “And that, too.” As well as a notebook.

“Here.” The merchant handed Selerim the pen, then the notebook. “If you’re going to be the one using it, you should hold it first.” The pen was longer than his pointer finger, and shaped from a lavender-colored metal, with a textured grip. "Your sister has good taste. It compliments your eyes."

"That's why I picked it!"

The notebook was simple by comparison; sheets of paper bound by tanned leather.

“Now, what color ink would you like? I have blue, red, yellow, green, purple, and black.”

“Purple and black.”

“Alright. Now,” the human grabbed another pen. “You can reuse these, but you have to refill them. This back here comes off. You can pull out the empty one and pull it back out. See?” He demonstrated. “If you bring them back to me, I can refill them with the same color for a smaller fee.”

“... Alright,” Selerim said finally. “Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” the man said with a grin. “I hope to see you again. Be careful out there.”

The two siblings stepped back with a tentative wave. Their mother stood a few paces away, and she smiled as they approached her.

“Did you have to talk him into it?”

“Yes,” Gwyn answered immediately.

She laughed in response. “I expected as much.”