FENRER

Volcanic ripples swept through the aura of golden unity, spread out across the waves and the crags of the archipelago. An ancient wish which echoed through the end of the seas and called them home. Days oozed through the approach of the frostsun months until it turned into its sister moon for snowy peaks. Bubbles of thick clouds flattened themselves against his chest whenever he tried to take a breath while he sat in the citadel's healing ward. Healers bustled behind curtains and he found himself kept in a separate room after Maria's cruel punishment.

"Sorry, Fenrer," Maria said with a shrug which bespoke her true feelings on the matter. "I don't want you to get sick."

So he sat there in condemned silence. Restlessness drove through his spine, but he found himself without the strength to flee. Cupboards lined the wall of the small room, where a couple of chairs sat against the wall empty of visitors. Webs unraveled straight into his nostrils, and he twisted onto his side for a fleeting sense of comfort. Phials full of the infernal liquid sat in small sections for further use. Another reason for the drifting days with him punished for his empathy once more. Arms folded, he toyed with the hem of his sleeves resting limp over his forearms. Icy maelstroms rang out with forlorn shame when Yuven shimmered through the door — forgoing any sense of knocking, as was his wont.

"Do you still want to kill me?'

Fenrer frowned. "Hello."

"Ai." Yuven flopped down into the chair and squeezed his knee. "Neven is coming around soon enough."

"I thought you'd still be resting yourself." Fenrer shifted his shoulders against the mattress and wiped his face with a fresh cloth at another nauseating sticky wave. He folded it by the corners when a tickle drove itself into his nose, and he sneezed into it instead. "Infernal damned... Do you want to talk, Yuven? I don't actually want to kill you, you know," he sped through the swell of irritation, pushing it into the bowels of the abyss. Magick coursed through his fingers, through the maze of sickly webs as he burned the napkin and dropped the ashes into the disposal pan.

Icy spikes tore themselves through the cloudy murk of Yuven's aura when he studied him. "I could not rest, but Maria gave me the all clear — though I... could not tell her what happened in Naveera. Nor could I tell Neven." Yuven's head lowered with a soft hiss through his nose. "I..."

It reverberated with sudden, dismayed sincerity, and Fenrer knew the next words out of Yuven's mouth before he braced himself to say them. "You don't have to apologize." He hesitated, then drew out, "Again." Another ripple wracked his lungs, and he grabbed another napkin for the impact. "I'll recover."

"It did not need to happen, though." Yuven scooted the chair closer. "You almost died, Fenrer. You almost died because I was stupid."

"I already told you that—"

"I'm not talking about the cliffs."

Fenrer stilled his words and waited for Yuven to continue.

"I thought Adara was ruining everything," Yuven muttered under his breath, his feathers sloped downwards. "It was supposed to be an escort, nothing more and nothing less. Why did things have to change, I wondered. Why could we not just go back to the way we were? Drop her off on Euros, and get on with our lives." Insistence cracked the foundations of fear when Yuven shook his head. "It was me all along though, Sungrove showed me that."

"We don't have to..." Fenrer shuffled against the moonlit grass and faced down his dead past. "We don't have to talk about this, Yuven. Apology accepted, though you don't have anything to be sorry for. I should've told you my intentions beforehand."

"Stop doing that." Yuven's nostrils flared. "It is irrelevant as to whether you should've told me or not. I was the one that pushed you. Pushed you when you were injured. Forced us through when you were weary. Over and over again, Fenrer, I have dragged you through nothing less than the Echo Obscura and you have not complained once. I owed it to you to stay in my lane and if you wanted to go to Sungrove, I should've bitten my tongue." His shoulders tensed against his neck, and Fenrer frowned when he rested a hand on his shoulder. "You are saying that we don't have to talk because you are afraid, but you don't have to be with me, Fenrer. I walked your memories once, Adara is not the only one who experienced it — experienced that hell that you can remember..." Rainwater carved rivers with a promise of new life and old wounds. "And the pieces of mine that have returned to me."

Fenrer jolted. "What?"

Yuven let him go, but he scrambled up to meet him half-way. "Yuven, what did Blackwall do?" he demanded, then crushed his fingers into his burning rib-cage with a moan.

"I just want you to listen to what I'm about to say."

Fenrer listened.

Yuven took in a heavy, tired breath. "I have held this fear that I will forget everything happy in my life. Keeper Blackwall asked why I cared so much about these memories." A shaky exhale left his lips. "He told me that you would have pierced the corruption around my mind had I given you leave to use force."

"Force isn't the answer." Fenrer groaned, then shook his head at Yuven when he reached forward. "You did not give me permission, Yuven. I offered. You refused. That is that. Body and mind must both be willing for that level of Mind Piercing. I did not want to do that to you, not knowing my limits back then. Nor do I want to do them now, I do not know what could happen if I broke the dam your mind is trying to protect you from. Keeper Blackwall already created a break, I am not going to throw my entire weight into it." His fingers dug into the edge of the mattress while his Oathbound seethed in self-disappointment.

"I am distressing you," Yuven mumbled.

Fenrer brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose and moaned into his palm. Helpless anger danced along his heart, but he found himself stuck in a single moment. A single, balanced moment as he gave being to the stories Neven gave him to carry. Through the wings of wyverns, the cold auras fluttered into disbelief. In the garden, where the silver lilies swelled with a gasping bloom and unlike in Tebora, its touch held a worldy gentleness than the ferocity in fear when Adara's hands grabbed onto the sides of his head and their lips brushed together.

His head swam, and he slipped back down into the mattress. "You're not distressing me," he said when the silence stretched on for too long. "I just don't want you to throw yourself at something that was forced upon you. This is not like Adara's memories." He tucked his cheek into the pillow. "Your memories are swollen with an infection born of the Obscura. It is like—"

"Squeezing out lungs full of phlegm and pus?" Yuven's dismay formed into a wry, playful smirk. Fenrer twisted his head to him. "No?"

"I didn't find it nearly as amusing as you did, evidently." Fenrer sniffed clunky webs. "I'd more liken it to popping it than squeezing it. Squeezing allows room for rest. To pop it is to give it no room to slowly release. Your memories matter, Yuven." He rested his forearms across his chest and nestled deeper into the blankets. "I have no doubt that they are there, but what Keeper Blackwall did was wrong." Irritation bled back into his throat as the band around his arm grew tighter with the pressure of the unbending Law. "I do not care what loophole he used, it was wrong — and..." Hesitance drove a deeper wedge into his burning throat. "Aurus should not toy with such things."

What stops you from tipping over the edge? Hayvala asked, and he found himself at a loss for an answer save for a simple one — the balance the Ancient's put forth through the flow. Ojain, the Gatekeeper who gave her life to stem the Obscura tide. Evyriaz, the Traveller who followed the trails of space and time to wrap it around a protective embrace — the eternal symbol of the Storm Wardens. Pyvansomiir, the Leviathan of Knowledge, seeking forever truths to balance out the lies the souls tells on itself.

The Princess of Evenfall, with her twilight scattered wings and tail set aflame to continue the dance between the sun and moon.

Keep the Gate closed, so that we may yet know peace, he mouthed the prayer.

"What?"

"Nothing." He sneezed once more. "Do you not have something else to do, Yuven? I would not want you to feel obligated to sit by my bedside. As I said before, this is not your fault. It is mine." He burned the next napkin away into fluttered ash, a slow exercise of his magick capabilities which required no effort.

"I am committed to bedrest, that is, I am not allowed to do mentally straining tasks if I am unable to sit down," Yuven pointed out. "I do not mind, in this instance." His gaze drew to the door when a different aura flowed through the melodic waves of sapphire gilded dreams. Neven slid open the door, holding a steaming bowl in one hand and using his free one to close it once more, blocking out the sight of Healers and previously injured Wardens being discharged from their care. Fenrer scrambled to sit up at the sight of his Guardian, but Neven held out his hand.

"No." Neven shuffled past Yuven, who tucked his legs underneath the chair before the bowl sat upon the table beside him, and Neven took the other seat. "Take your ease, Fenrer. I have just brought you some lunch. I ran it past Maria, but it is your favourite."

Fenrer took his ascent with care to grab onto the bowl and peek into the golden fumes.

"Honey-mixed broth, I'd have added some other stuff, but Maria warned me against that until you are able to breathe properly."

Fenrer sipped at the broth. Its hot touch scratched at the webs and burned them into silver embers. "Thank you, Neven," he said in the song, relishing in the sweet mix of honey and the way his sinus' cleared up all at once without the violent conception of Maria's tincture. "You did not have to go through the trouble."

Both Neven's and Yuven's feathers twitched at his stuffed Navei. Neven smiled. "Your Navei is so much better now than when we last spoke in length," he said with a nod. "Strong song, Fenrer. One which carries the sea. You use your voice well." Yuven folded his arms and eyed Neven, who returned the glare before whipping out a floofy package. "Here you go," Neven said with an amused tone. "Batch just finished. Gave most of it to the Storm Wardens who valiantly defended the boat, but I saved one just for you."

Yuven's glare dropped into one of satisfaction when he unwrapped the parcel to reveal a white-spotted pound cake.

Neven's aura glimmered with happiness, overlaid with grim exhaustion. Fenrer continued to sip at the broth. "Is there something you want to talk about, Neven?"

"Hm... yes," Neven admitted without fear. "It is... quite the long tale that I'll share more in depth when you are well, but first, I must... regretfully ask for your assistance on a delicate matter, and no—" He shook his head when Fenrer found himself sifting through the sapphire river. "It is not me."

Fenrer frowned as he trudged through streaks of black. Did... something happen during his Posting? What are these... obscure trails muddying his flow? One more sip for clarity, he nodded at Neven to continue.

"First, I wish for the both of you to swear secrecy, I do not doubt you will say nothing, but it is for someone's well-being that I ask," Neven said, glancing at the door. "Fenrer, once you are recovered — in full, not half — I need your help specifically."

"I swear," Fenrer said, and Yuven nodded as he nibbled on the powdery poundcake. "What is this about?"

Neven sighed and rested his brow against the tips of his tented fingers. "I was sent to Elvkana to investigate rumors of an Obscura Cult," he admitted. "Kemal and I have had no leads. Several Storm Wardens have gone missing under my leadership — and I ruefully am here instead of there for my own health... and the health of the lone survivor of one of these attacks done on the patrols."

Yuven frowned at Neven, but Fenrer sank in the shame Neven carried around his body like a broken shield. "What is wrong?"

"Julis, an Aurus on Kemal's team, was unable to sense their thoughts, their flow... their soul, even. They are alive... but they are a shell. It is one of Kemal's Trainees," Neven continued on a fast track of pain. "He is barely older than either of you, and I have failed him as his Captain. Fenrer, if there is anything you can do to help him... I know that it is a lot to ask, but you are the only one who might discern the truth and release him from its burden."

The truth, the absolution of it — the balance it creates.

"Can you define what you just said?" Yuven pressed for more answers.

"It is exactly what I mean," Neven muttered. "He is alive... but he does not acknowledge the environment around him. You can pinch him, push him, but he will not react. He can only eat and drink with assistance. I cannot even say that it is something akin to a sleeping magick. Even my song cannot grab him from whatever clings onto him." Neven lowered his head. "It'd make more sense to see it for yourself, but I wish for you to rest, and regain your strength first, if you will help."

Fenrer finished off the broth of Neven's concern and warmth. "Of course. You should rest too, Neven."

Neven's smile returned, but the obscura trails stained it with pure despair. "Thank you, Molvei'saliz." He bowed with his hands on his knees, and feathers upright. "I will be by your side when the time comes. You will understand." Neven took the bowl from his hands, and Fenrer took the chance to lift his fingers through the wriggling black tendrils of an unseen truth. Out of his reach, Fenrer returned Neven's expression when he nodded to Yuven and left the room behind.

It clicked closed.

Yuven narrowed his eyes. "Well, Fenrer? What is with that look?"

"Neven refrained from information." Fenrer frowned. "Why... why was there a stain on his aura? Black as night... like tar from pollution... It grew fainter, the river washing itself of its blockage with the passage of time." He hesitated, then tasted the remnants and pushed it through the world to spread it out in front of him. "He's burdened with something, and I don't think he even knows what it is."

"Clarify?" Yuven's expression cracked in concern.

"I think there is more than Neven wants to tell us about that posting in Elvkana," Fenrer whispered. "More than he wants to tell or admit to himself."

"It's always something with a cult..." Yuven grumbled into the rest of his poundcake.

Yes... but also no. Fenrer pressed his back against the pillow with his Oathbound as company as he chewed on the truth the auras revealed. He doesn't know himself, but the soul always does.