An Inheritance of Fire

Viria woke to the sound of someone knocking on her door. She rubbed the drowsiness from her eyes before sitting up. It was still early; only the barest hint of sunlight streamed through the thin curtains.

She retrieved a dress from where it hung on the bedframe. It was a shoulderless garment, cut low enough to reveal her scarred shoulders.

Each bore a nearly perfectly circular scar; remnants of her struggle with Vanis. The flesh of her right, however, was disfigured by burn marks. The larger, more gruesome ones on her torso remained hidden. Those were caused by Selerim, albeit inadvertently.

She’d hidden them completely, at first, only deciding to openly display them after seeing the way Valandor proudly did so with his. There was nothing shameful about them– they were proof she’d survived. First the rigors of Umbra, and then Vanis’ attack.

Even that simple motion made her arms ache. Though Viria had grown used to her new routine, her body had yet to adjust. Her room was small. Smaller than someone in her position should have been, but she preferred it this way.

There was another reason, of course– it was the room Selerim stayed in during his time in Vasoria. That was yet another reason she chose to openly show her scars: they’d made their first real connection as he tended to her wounds.

Every trace of him had long since been erased, but there was something comforting about being there. His presence had been a constant during their journey, and even afterward. Being separated from him still felt odd– though she knew it would pass.

Not that her new position made it any easier. She interacted with the hollows regularly now, and each of them carried a small part of Selerim. They all shared in his easy confidence; it showed in the way they moved, the way they calmly took in their surroundings. But while some shared his bone-white hair, none shared his lavender eyes.

Viria groaned as she pushed herself off the bed. Gripping the doorknob, she pulled it open, expecting to see Valandor. Instead–

“Ria!”

– Veile lunged forward, throwing her arms around Viria before she could even process her sister’s presence.

Caught off guard, Viria stumbled back two steps, nearly falling in the process. Her rush of panic was quickly replaced by joy as Veile’s warmth melded with her own.

“I missed you,” Veile said as she stepped back. “I know I told you there would be time to clear the air between us. I’m sorry it’s taken so long. Sisters we may be, but it will take some time for us to be truly comfortable with one another.” She lowered her head, bowing slightly. “For now, though, duty demands my attention elsewhere. I hope you can forgive that.”

Despite herself, Viria hesitated. She’d felt the awkwardness between them in their few brief meetings, but she also knew that it stemmed solely from her. Even if Veile forgave her, the year's worth of guilt still lingered.

“Between the two of us, I am the one who needs to ask forgiveness,” she said gently, stepping forward to hug her sister. “And you’ve already offered me more than I deserve.” Viria tightened her embrace. “Your words are true enough– it will take some time for us to be truly comfortable with one another. But you’re my sister. As long as you don’t hate me… then I don’t care.”

“Ria,” Veile said as she pulled away. Her brows were furrowed in a mixture of irritation and concern. “It’s like you said. There’s nothing to forgive. What happened between us that day was an accident. No more, no less.” Her voice turned fierce. “No matter what anyone else says.”

Viria took a deep breath before responding. “My mind hears your words, but it will take time for my heart to agree.” She smiled. “Knowing that you don’t blame me is enough. But– why are you here? You said it yourself. You’re busy.”

Veile grinned. “My hard work has paid off. I have the next two days off, and I’ve told Valandor and Mara to take them off, as well. Let’s spend today in the city– and tomorrow, alone. Just the two of us.”

Before Viria could say anything, Veile lunged forward, clasping one of her hands in both of her own.

“Come on!”

She let herself be led away. There was no reason to refuse.

For the first time since her return, Viria became conscious of how many eyes drifted towards her. Many more found her sister, of course. Her garb alone guaranteed that: it was pure green. Something that was reserved for Grovetenders.

They’d been together for hours, already, but had yet to do more than walk and converse. Their steps led them closer to the city’s heart, though the crowd always parted to let them through.

“Sorry. I know this must be uncomfortable.”

She jumped as one of Veile’s hands slipped into her own. “It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head. “I should be used to it by now.”

“Even so, what happened between us was no fault of your own.”

That gave Viria pause. “And what exactly did between us?” She asked slowly. “You speak as if you understand what happened that day. Even… Even Vane couldn’t explain it.”

“Because I do understand it.” Veile’s eyes swept across their surroundings. “But that is a conversation for tomorrow. And today comes before that.”

“And what are we doing today?” Viria asked, a note of uncertainty creeping into her voice. She was glad to spend time with Veile, of course, but so far, the two had done little more than walk through the city.

“Ah. You’ve figured it out.” A smile crept over Veile’s lips. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re correct– I have another agenda today.” She stepped in front of Viria. “But only if you choose to participate. I know I’ve not been the most present sister since your return, but everything I do is for your sake.” Desperation crept into her voice. “If nothing else, I want you to believe that.”

Viria bit her lip, remembering Valandor’s warning. “I believe you,” she finally said. Veile was her sister. The only family she had left. If Viria couldn’t trust her, then who could she trust? “What do you want me to do?”

Veile smiled. “Follow me.” And with that, she took off running, pulling Viria alongside her. The crowd parted more easily than before, and within minutes, they reached the city center. A dais stood at its center.

“Come on.”

Veile stepped up the stairs carved in its side. A number had already gathered; they all peered up at the twins expectantly. “Be sure of your certainty,” she said quietly. “There’s no going back after this.”

Viria took a deep breath. There had been more eyes on her, before, during her trial, but this was different. They were closer.

“... You said I could help Selerim.”

“I did. And you can.”

Viria’s palm burned. She looked down at it. Just like her shoulders, it too was scarred. A single clean cut that she’d made herself– and a dark, splotchy spot where Selerim’s blood burned her. Proof of the Oath she’d sworn him. She clenched it into a fist.

“Then I’m sure.”

Veile smiled. “I’m glad.” She turned towards the still-growing crowd, and when she spoke again, her voice projected outwards. “I greet those of you gathered her today. I am Veile, the newly appointed Grovetender. I know I have yet to formally announce myself to those of you living here, and for that, I truly apologize.”

She bowed, and her pale green hair fell over her head like a curtain. “My father’s territory has long since lacked oversight, although his advisors have done a truly admirable job of keeping you all safe and cared for in that time.

Veile straightened, but not a single word was spoken by another elf. “I know that many of you were present the day of my sister’s trial, and I know that my absence since then has sparked many rumors– and many more controversies. I’m sure you’ve all noticed my decision not to address any of them– publicly or otherwise.”

She paused, but the silence remained unbroken. “That is because I’ve waited for this day. Regardless of your presence that day, I’m sure you all heard about my sister’s alleged crimes– and our reconciliation.” Veile gestured to Viria.

“I am here today to tell you that my sister has committed no crimes.”

The moment the last word left her mouth, the crowd erupted with noise– only to fall silent as she raised a hand.

“I know well the words that I speak– and yet I promise you their truth. I thought long and hard of how to inform you– all of you– and ultimately decided on this. If any of my words are untrue, I shall strike my own head off” Veile took a deep breath. “Times are changing. And so we must change with them.”

She gestured to Viria, who took a tentative step forward. “I speak to you today– and present my sister to you– as a sign of trust. While I know not the depths of each and every one of your hearts, I trust each of you implicitly– but I trust my sister more, still. “I’m sure you have all seen her working tirelessly to restore our Grove’s bond with the hollows– the people who provide us with the means to nurture our forest. A task that I assigned her. And the fruits of her labor are already showing.”

Veile paused, but the silence persisted yet.

“And so, I would like to welcome her back to our society.”

The crowd erupted once more, and this time she waited for them to fall silent before speaking. “I will need her strength and knowledge in the times to come. Just as I trust in you, I ask you to trust in me.” She grasped one of Viria’s hands, raising it above both their heads.

“But our customs are long-lived. And so, on my authority of Grovetender, I shall bequeath another name unto my sister.” She paused. “Do any disagree?”

This time, there was something unnatural about the silence.

Unsettling.

“Then from today onward, she will be known as Lila!”

Viria’s– Lila’s? Head snapped around at that. It was a name she knew well; the alias she used while in Cress. But she had yet to tell Veile of the years she’d spend in Umbra– and doubted Selerim even remembered that name.

But the crowd erupted the next moment, drowning out her thoughts. It was different than before– cheers, rather than senseless noise. She shivered as Veile turned back to her.

Her -multi-colored eyes glowed an iridescent hue, and for the briefest of moments, she looked like a complete stranger. And then, in the next, she smiled, and her sister returned. The next words she spoke were for the two of then alone.

“To me, you will always be Viria. Ria. My sister.” Her look turned mischievous–

“I brought a change of clothes. Let’s get out of here– and go have some fun. Things will die down soon enough.

– and then faltered.

“I’m sorry, Ria. I really am. But this was the best way. The only way. There will be time enough for us to speak everything unsaid. I promise.”

Linua stirred, and then woke, her surroundings slowly coming into view as she opened her eyes. She turned to the side, wrapping her arms around Gwyn’s still-sleeping form– and then realized Selerim was absent.

Stricken by a moment of panic, she bolted upright, sweeping her eyes across the room– only to find him sitting on the windowsill. The moonlight, clearer than it had ever been in cress, spilled over his form through the large window, lending his hair a dirty silver luminescence. Both of his hands were looped around one raised leg, while the other lay flat.

Though he faced the window, Linua knew he’d heard her sudden movement. Careful not to wake her daughter, she slipped out from under the covers, shivering at the sudden lack of warmth.

“Can’t sleep?” She asked as she shuffled over to him.

Selerim shook his head wordlessly.

Despite her concern, Linua smiled. Times were different, now, but some things never changes. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” She asked, standing as she did so.

He shook his head again.

There wasn’t enough room for both of then, so she half-sat, half-stood across the sill from him. Though worried, Linua knew this was her son’s way of processing events– just as she knew he would speak when he was ready.

“... Mom,” Selerim said after a long stretch of silence.

“Yes?”

“I love you. Both you and Gwyn.”

“I know. And we love you, too. Don’t ever forget that.”

He fell silent again. It was several moments before he spoke again.

“... I killed people. Not Reavers. People. People with families…” Selerim trailed off, and when he continued speaking, his voice was hoarse. “I killed someone’s child. Or maybe I killed a child’s parent.” He turned to face Linua as she spoke. His two-tone violet eyes seemed to glow under the moonlight.

“I know you sent the letter.” Those words were spoken matter-of-factly. “I’m… I’m sorry. I should’ve–”

“No,” Linua interrupted fiercely. “I chose to carry that burden for you. So let me.”

Selerim looked at her for a moment, then nodded once before turning back to face the window. “I’m not the same person I used to be,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“We all change over time.”

“I know. But I… I’ve changed a lot.” Linua heard her son take a deep breath. “And I don’t trust Veile.” She could hear the barely repressed anger in his voice. “But I’m not stupid. I can tell things are changing.”

Selerim turned to face her once more. “It doesn’t matter what happens,” he said fiercely. “I’ll protect you and Gwyn. No matter what. No matter who I have to kill.” His expression fell. “I just want to tell you that I’m still your son.”

Linua laughed at the sheer absurdity of the question, only to slap a hand over her mouth. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

Selerim’s face reddened, but he nodded.

“Don’t be stupid,” she whispered, moving to draw him into a embrace. “I'm your mother. No matter what.” Her son nodded silently.

The second day started much like the first, although when Viria opened the door, Veile’s attendant was standing behind her.

Mara’s green eyes locked onto Viria as the door opened, her body stiffening until the moment of recognition. Like Valandor, she wore a military-styled uniform, but hers lacked any sort of modification.

The only thing out of order was a brooch pinned just below her collarbone. It was small, and hardly eye-catching, save for the fact that it was made of metal– something that all elves were allergic to.

“Are you… busy today?” Viria asked uncertainly. She saw a moment of confusion flit across Veile’s face, but it lasted only a split second.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Mara is just here to bring us to our destination. It’ll be faster– so we’ll have more time together.”

“Alright.”

Viria took Mara’s offered hand as Veile took the other. She’d witnessed Mara’s Sigil before, and though she didn’t yet know its limitations, it was obvious just how valuable the mage was. The ability to teleport was rare enough, and the ability to carry others was rarer still.

So why is she just an attendant? Viria wondered. Whatever though came next was interrupted by a moment violent nausea, so intense that she nearly vomited– and then in the next, they were in the forest. Mara’s strong grip was the only thing that kept her from falling.

“Thank you, Mara.” Veile seemed completely unaffected. “The day is yours. I’ll see you later.” The older elf nodded once– then simply disappeared, accompanied by the sound of glass shattering.

Viria forced her stomach to quiet as she took in their surroundings. They were familiar. On the rare occasion that she and Veile met during their childhood, it was almost always here, hidden from prying eyes under the roots of an Elder Tree.

It was also where she’d watched Vanis cut Selerim’s head off.

She shivered. Remnants of their struggle were obvious: large swaths of the forest floor were charred beyond recognition, and even the Elder Tree’s roots were charred.

“I know this place holds painful memories for us both,” Veile said quietly. “But I thought it apt.”

Viria nodded, unable to find the words.

“Before we begin, though…” Veile snapped her fingers, and a sword appeared in her hand, scabbard and all. Its mottled green and black surface was perfectly smooth, and though she hadn’t seen it since her trial, Viria recognized it immediately.

Her uncle’s sword.

The last thing he’d give her before his death.

“This is yours,” Veile said quietly. “It never should have been taken from you.”

“... Thank you,” Viria said as she accepted it with both hands. It was like recovering a small part of her self. She threaded essence through her bracelet, and the sword disappeared. It wasn’t the only momento her uncle left behind, but it was by far the most important in value– sentimental and otherwise.

“So… what now?” Viria asked uncertainly, looking at her sister for the first time. She was dressed differently than yesterday. The sleeveless dress Veile wore was similar to her own, though still pure green in color.

Just like every time before, Viria found her eyes drawn to the scars on Veile’s right arm. They were dark, ugly things, and they increased in number as they approached her hand– which was almost entirely black. Only a few pockets of undamaged skin were present.

“Ria,” Veile said sharply. “I told you yesterday, and I’ll say it again. What happened that day was not your fault.”

Viria took a deep breath– and before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling out. “What– what happened that day? I know what they told me– that you almost died. That I almost killed you, and–”

“Stop.” Veile stepped forward, her eyes flashing with the same iridescent hue as the day before. “I’ll answer your questions, but you need to believe in my words. What happened that day was not your fault. Do you understand?”

“I…” Viria trailed off, then nodded silently, unable to find the right words.

“Good.”

She fell silent as Veile began to speak.