Shadow of the First Sin

The day of the Fatebound Vow ceremony had finally arrived. The residents of Vixengaard treated the day like a grand holiday since this ancient law hadn’t been invoked in ages. From the early hours, masses of people gathered at the town square to witness the spectacle. The excitement spread throughout the Vixen’s Veil, with folk even camping outside the city gates. The world wanted to see the criminals who risked their lives for the sake of another man’s realm instead of being imprisoned in Heaven’s Hold. They might even regard us as heroes.

“Look at all those people who came to see me! It seems the name Silas the Bard has indeed spread far and wide!” Silas marveled as he looked at the magical projection of the city square.

“You fool! It is Orion the White they came to see!” Orion proclaimed proudly, puffing his chest to appear larger.

“They didn’t come here for either of you specifically. They came to see the idiots who decimated the entire Talon order out of existence. The masses are calling you the ‘Butchers of Buckleberry’!” Lyra interjected as she turned off the projection.

“The Butchers of Buckleberry; now that has a nice ring to it!” Silas exclaimed, deep in thought.

“It does, only you weren’t a part of that battle,” Orion commented.

“What do you mean? I was right there!” Silas protested.

“You know what? Now that you remind me, yes, you were,” Orion admitted before continuing, “You were crying in the middle of the battlefield without lifting a damn finger!”

“How dare you spew such nonsense in the presence of a lady!” Silas gasped in shock.

“Guys, calm down!” I interrupted. “It’s obvious they came for me. When was the last time people saw an avian?”

“Nonsense! Who wants to see some half-man, half-bird creature when they can see the best bard this world has ever seen? Besides, I already met one, back in Emberfield Village; she is a dear friend,” Silas said, thinking of my mother Seraphina. I was glad that after all these years, he still hadn’t forgotten about her.

“Actually, the reason people gathered in such numbers was because of Valerian,” Lyra said.

“I knew it!” I rejoiced.

I couldn’t care less if people came to see me. I just wanted to irritate both Silas and Orion for what they put me through last night. With all the sleep talking and snoring, I barely got a wink of sleep.

As the arguing continued, a familiar yet unknown voice spoke, causing everyone to go silent.

“I know who they haven’t come for. I was pretty useless in that fight...” Kaela spoke, finally cured from the Poisonvein.

“Kaela!” Orion shouted happily, running towards her with his arms open wide. He hugged her and lifted her into the air, spinning in circles, his face radiating like that of a puppy seeing its master. Frankly, it was quite unsettling, for Orion’s face was always stiff.

“Let me down, you buffoon! The wound is still not fully healed yet!” Kaela exclaimed, trying to wiggle her way out of Orion’s tight hug.

“I am sorry, little mouse!” Orion apologized and gently set her back on her feet. “How do you feel?”

“The wound is still fresh. The healing mages have done what they could, but Poisonvein damaged the tissue beyond repair. It will take some time for the flesh to mend completely,” she said, holding onto her stomach. “Thank you for saving my life. Again.” Kaela gently placed her hand on Orion’s cheek before turning to the rest of us. “I wish to thank you as well, Valerian of Elyria. I was informed you played a pivotal role in the battle with the assassins caused by my weakness. You could’ve walked away, but you didn’t. That speaks highly of you as a warrior and as a person. I’ve also heard you fell in that battle and came back to life?”

“Let’s leave that story for the road, hm? After all, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other as we travel to another dimension. But for now, thank you for your kind words; it is a pleasure to know you, Miss Kaela,” I said, extending my arm, which she took and firmly shook.

“And me? What about me?” Silas chimed in with excitement.

“Oh, it’s you!” Kaela rejoiced.

“It’s me!” Silas grinned merrily.

“You’re that drunk from the Burping Dwarf! What are you doing all the way here? Has the old man Burps finally made you pay the tab?”

And just like that, all the light in Silas’s eyes dimmed as he turned around and let out a sigh. “Nevermind...”

Kaela differed from the rest of the humans I’d seen. Much like the lightning mage Blythe, her skin was a deep bronze with golden undertones and white highlights. Back home in the eastern realms, people were mostly pale-skinned, some more than others. Her hair was black, adorned with a golden tiara on her forehead, with blue crystals embedded into the metal. Her eyes were a striking shade of deep green, and her dress shared the same color, with golden stitching on the edges. The dress revealed her bare shoulders, and its lower sides were open, allowing for unrestrained movement unlike typical dresses. Remembering the big golden halberd she wielded back in Buckleberry, I guessed she was some kind of warrior, so she shouldn’t be dead weight in the mission ahead of us. What happened in Buckleberry must’ve been a miscalculation on her part.

Well, I am the last person who should judge; I died in that battle, after all. I’m afraid the Dragonsworn Conclave is a much bigger threat than the Talons ever were. Back in Buckleberry, I was careless and full of myself, and I paid dearly for it. I can no longer allow myself to be careless, to be weak. I already died once—the next time will be my last, and I intend to die of old age this time. I have to cut unnecessary burdens; the only lives I should carry on my shoulders are mine and Silas’s. The rest will need to fend for themselves. Every time I intertwined with someone else’s destiny, it was me who paid the price.

I hope destiny won’t make me choose who lives and who dies. I am not Death for those who stand by me; I am Death to those who oppose me. So, just this time, I ask of you not to make me choose. If someone is to die, do not let me cause it. Let the blood of my enemies soak my hands, not that of my friends. If they are to die, let it be because they were too weak, not because I was. I no longer want to carry the weight of the dead, for it is too difficult to carry the weight of the living.