It's bright outside. Throwing up a hand to shield my eyes, I twist sideways, boots skidding on loose dirt, only for my shoulder to knock into the corner of a wall. The scrape stings. With a hiss, I duck around the wall and keep moving. I was expecting a straight street, a line of houses lining each side, but instead it's a chaotic maze of slanted lines and angles, a jumble of mismatched buildings that barely resemble a functional street. The next house looms in at my right, and I dive behind it, pushing on until Edrali's house is no longer in view and my spine presses up against rough wood.

Gasping for breath, I squeeze my eyes shut, a sick feeling constricting my throat. I should go back. And yet I can't bring myself to do anything other than hide, shivering into myself, and pray that Edrali won't follow.

I'm not sure I could even pick the right path back if I tried. Dizzied confusion shapes all I see, blurring any clarity. Edrali called this my home, and yet I'm lost already, spiralling into a twisting kind of dread. It's stupid. I feared everyone here would hate me, and yet upon finding someone willing to forgive me, all I can do is hate him back. It's wrong.

I shouldn't hate him. I don't hate him. Yet my veins still hiss with subdued heat as if urging me to fight. As if I need to destroy his kindness rather than let it touch me.

Destroy. My laugh is dry and breathless, my whisper resonating far louder in my chest. "Why should anyone forgive you?"

Pushing my heels into the dirt in an attempt to ground myself, I rub a hand over my face, trying to ignore the way my cold, gloved fingertips catch on the ridge of my scar. I need to find Fiesi. I need him to be something familiar to cling to while I steady my thoughts. And I need to know he's okay.

I turn to the side and manage a single step before I freeze again.

Jaci's face pokes around the edge of the house. On instinct, I stumble back, but she is swifter, her palm brushing over my cuff before she locks my wrist in a tight grip. Nerves flutter through her expression, not dissimilar to the tangled chaos tied in my stomach, but determination hardens her gaze. She lifts her other hand.

The pale, frosty letters written there make me wince. "I still can't read."

She doesn't protest, retracting the hand immediately. Her shrug conveys something like well, it was worth a shot. Before I can say anything more, she turns, my wrist dragged along with the movement, and marches around the corner. A yelp trips off my tongue. Bracing myself, I yank in the opposite direction, though to no avail. Her grip is fiery. Or perhaps icy is more appropriate; I'm sure frost pricks at the skin beneath my sleeve, as if her magic glues her fingers in position. I'm forced to follow. If I fight much more, my feet will slide from under me, and I'd rather she didn't resort to dragging me across the dirt.

Still, fear clamps down just as fiercely. My heart races. As we rejoin what I presume is the main path, despite its irregular shape, I toss a hesitant glance over my shoulder. It lengthens when I catch sight of Edrali's house.

His eyes lock with mine immediately. He leans on the open door, a nervous air of his own shifting his stance. He offers a flickering smile.

I return it, though mine is tight with apology. Maybe I should call to him, yet the words are silt in my lungs, impossible to scrape out. Why can't I trust him? It used to be so much easier to accept help. Now it seems far more instinctive to flinch away from it, to find some dark corner to hide in alone.

Pushing my legs to move quicker, I hurry to Jaci's side, searching the side of her face. "I'm sorry. You can let go."

She doesn't grant me a look.

"I'll follow," I try again. "I won't run."

A brief, side-eyed glance. She raises an eyebrow.

"I won't!" I muster all the sincerity I can, but she shows no sign of loosening her grip. Swallowing, I lift my gaze to the jumbled line of houses up ahead. Even their construction is more chaotic than that of Cormé -- they're smaller, with irregular panels of wood stuck together in rows to form boxes of vastly varying shapes. Most are splashed with some kind of colour. I steal another glance at Jaci. "Where are you taking me?"

Her response takes the form of another tug. I stumble to follow, and my inhale slices any further question from my tongue.

The cluster of buildings to our right falls away rapidly, cramped a tad closer together as if they retreat into one another, shying away from the space beyond. What lies there is emptiness. Ravaged, solemn emptiness, its eerie quiet lashing out tendrils that snake around the houses and plunge cold dread into my heart.

"Is that..." My voice gives out, too strained and easy to break.

My wrist jerks. Jaci tips her head in the direction of the place I stare at, her eyes shimmering with uncertainty. I swallow the bitter lump in my throat and offer her a nod.

She keeps her step slow and deliberate as we draw nearer, which I'm grateful for. Tension wraps every inch of me, my muscles wound taut, my feet pushing through waters thick with darkened knowledge. The emptiness is not complete; piles of rubble are strewn over the land, half-blacked splinters of wood speckled with ash, stones broken apart and buried in a nest of scraps. A rare few structures stick above the rest, their dilapidated shapes just about resembling hollowed-out houses. Homes. And yet the whispered aftermath of flame hangs still in the air, casting out crackling shivers that nip at my skin.

Burned and ruined. Destroyed. Why should anyone forgive you?

I can feel Jaci's gaze on me as we slip from the living Aorila into its shadow. She's waiting for a reaction. I simply curl my fists and keep my eyes averted. I want to hang my head, to watch my boots tread onwards and become blind to all else, but I know it would be cowardly. If nothing else, I'll face the death I caused.

Beneath the rubble, the earth is largely bare, though the odd blade of grass pokes out as if the former colour of this place is fighting to re-emerge. There are trees, too, skeletal spikes of branches hunching like many-limbed beasts standing guard of this ghost of a dead town. Winter's bleakness makes it difficult to tell whether they're still alive, but I know they aren't. Trees are easy to kill with the right touch.

One in particular catches my eye. I falter, jolting to a stop. There's a figure leaning into the tree's trunk, his head pressed to the bark, his clothes the same ashen grey as his surroundings.

A drop of warmth seeps into my chest, tugging at my lips with the edge of a smile, though they're too heavy to let it rise. Instead I keep walking, increasing my pace until it's Jaci who hurries to my side.

Fiesi looks up as we approach. He pushes away from the tree, edging in front of it as if he can somehow hide it from view. His hand is buried deep in his hair. He's making a fragile attempt to look casual, but shock and shame are woven into every crease of his expression.

"Fiesi." All manner of relief and guilt and sympathy crowd into the stringed syllables of his name. "Are... are you..."

A cracked half-smile softens the blue of his eyes. He steps forward, hesitates, then crosses the rest of the way to wrap his arms around me. The urge to grow stiff and flinch away is easier to shove aside by now. Besides, his touch is always gentle, the delicate caress of warmed fabric rather than the fire itself. Perhaps he fears too tight an embrace will break me.

Still, I notice his tension, the way his fingers pull at the loose folds of my tunic. Jaci releases my wrist, and I carefully curl my own arms around his chest. That action will never stop feeling awkward. I must not have mastered it quite yet.

"I'm guessing this means you're not okay," I offer, keeping my tone lighter than it should be as I tilt my chin upward. He'd prefer it this way.

"Not particularly." He laughs, just barely, and his shaking chest accompanies a squeeze. "It's been..." He cuts off sharply, drawing back, his hands still lingering on my shoulders. He gives his head a hard shake. "But, ah, don't worry about me." He glances beyond me, his smile folding inward. "You shouldn't have come here."

I twist, his touch dropping away as I cast the empty plain another wide glance. The hollow within me echoes in aching, sickened longing. Biting my lip, I look back to him, forcing all evidence of it from my stance. "It's not exactly anything new," I say. "I know what I did." Instantly, regret ripples through me. It sounds as if I brush it off, as if I don't care. Swallowing hard, I move past Fiesi, latching my attention onto the tree.

"This is..." I curl a hand over my arm. "This is your tree, isn't it? The aspen tree."

A long exhale. "It was."

The tightness to his voice tugs me back around. His gaze drifts to Jaci, poorly-hidden strings of flame sparking atop the hand he hides beneath his grey cloak, before it flicks to the other side, averted. He's conscious of her watching him. Suddenly, so am I, as if she intrudes upon the bubble of safety we grant one another.

"You can go," I tell her, too quietly. "I'll be alright here."

"Yes." Fiesi's addition swings a little too loud in contrast. "He'll be fine with me. My father won't come this way."

Her uncertainty breaks apart to form a knowing smile, though what she knows is a mystery to me. Ice speckles the hand she waves in goodbye. Fiesi glares at it.

"No," he says. "Definitely not. Go."

Grinning, she skips away, a glimmering spark of pale light in the bleakness she traverses to return to town. I glance at Fiesi. "What did she say?"

His gaze is trained on her retreating form. "Nothing."

A clear lie, but I see no use in pushing him. As the beat of silence drags on, I grip my arm tighter, watching the wind toy with his cloak. "You... you met your father again, then?"

The fabric stills, pinned in place as his hand fists its hem. "I did."

I'm not used to this. Fiesi isn't supposed to be so quiet, his answers short and sharp, his movements carved of stone. For once, a spike of righteous anger digs itself into Edrali's image. How could anyone dismiss him so easily when he's so clearly hurting?

Carefully, I move nearer. "I'm... sorry. For--"

"Stop it." He bats at my arm, though his fingers only skim it as he whirls on me. He's equipped a partial grin. "I told you to stop apologising. You've nothing to be sorry for."

"But I--" At his warning look, I swallow the rest of my protest. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

His gaze jolts sharply downwards. I tense, worried I've said the wrong thing. The sensation only claws deeper when his eyes flick up again to reveal the clear glimmer of tears. They blur the azure, creating fragile, rippling pools. Another apology sits on my tongue. Fiesi isn't supposed to cry either. The last time I saw him do so was the day he saved me.

His audible inhale cuts me off. He snatches up my hand, his own trembling as he tugs me closer. "You're like a brother to me, Nathan." His smile is shaky. "You know that?"

The word stuns me. I barely know it, detached as I have been from any nature of family, and yet it feels oddly right. It beats with that same warmth I feel in his presence, the phantom touch of his flame, soft and secure.

"Maybe that's why I need you, really. I always wanted a brother." A quiet laugh seeps through the cracks in his voice. "I wonder if things would've worked out differently if I did."

"Well, I..." My hand slips from his as I step closer, peering up at him. My fingers thread together. "I'll gladly be your brother. If... if you want that."

His eyes glitter warmly even as a tear slips down his cheek. "Yeah. I'd like that a lot." He makes a vague gesture in the direction of the ground. "Here, let's..."

I nod, and we sit, side by side on the barren earth. For several moments, I wait, watching him as he lingers over his next words, but none come. The silence burrows a void into my chest, yet at least this one is crafted of peace rather than discomfort. Tucking my knees to my chest, I let myself slide within its dark folds. After all that has occurred since arriving here already, and all that will happen, I can be grateful for a peaceful moment.

Fiesi sniffles, tugging up his sleeve to wipe it over his face. I avert my eyes. I know what it's like to be stared at when vulnerable, to feel the pierce of pity, and I'd rather spare him that fate.

The repercussions of the choice lie in the space before me; I find myself scanning the rubble again, tasting the aftermath of smoke. A chill washes over me, and I curl into a tighter ball. Perhaps I should count it strange that this place remains in this state after all this time, yet that bitter, frigid note to the air provides my answer before I can begin to wonder. This land is tainted. It reeks of death.

Death and fire. I glance down at my gloves, their silver edging flattened into dull grey. I once promised that I would repay the terrible things I did here. Now, I feel the words break on my tongue, impossible to fulfil.

What kind of brother could I possibly be?

Fiesi's voice, a blurred mutter, prods at my ears. I snap to look at him, fingers curling. I can't help but remember the last time he whispered inaudible words to himself.

"What?" The question wavers, unsure.

"He blames me." He stares straight ahead. "For what happened to my mother. He blames me. He always has."

I search for his gaze. "Your father?"

He nods, his jaw set. "I see it in the way he looks at me. He wishes--" His breath catches. "He wishes I died instead."

"But how can it..." My chest tightens. "It was my fault. All of this. It can't--"

"None of this was your fault." Finally, he looks at me, the flame in his eyes bright and sure despite the glint of tear stains against his skin. "I truly believe that." He twists aside. "I'm the one who just stood there and let it all happen."

This pause is torturous. I don't know how to fill it, as desperately as I want to. I merely watch him, guilt a writhing beast in my stomach. He even told me not to be sorry. Is it possible to feel guilty for feeling guilty?

The flames that burst suddenly from his palm snare my attention before the words can come. They tangle, twining into the hauntingly familiar shape of an azure knife. I flinch, though there's no need to. He doesn't look my way. His glare is primed on the flickering weapon.

"Better cruel than pathetic," he murmurs, turning its hilt over in his hand. "That's what I told myself every time he looked at me like that, like he wanted me dead. I thought if I could be cruel like him, then maybe I'd be stronger. Maybe I'd be something closer to what he wanted, someone who could have saved her. But I was wrong." He looks my way, fierce determination lit again in his eyes. "So wrong, about so many things."

Meeting his gaze, I sit straighter. "You're not pathetic, Fiesi."

"I know." He clenches his fist, and the knife dissolves into sparks, but not before its blue glow reflects off his twitch of a smile. "I know. I--"

He stiffens, the sound bitten off so quickly that I really do flinch. Eyes wide, he jolts to his feet, whipping around. I follow suit more slowly. His cloak brushes my leg as it swings back my way.

It takes me a moment to recognise the creature that has crept up behind us. Without the shade of the forest or cover of long grass, the forked pink lines that wind over Mira's flank seem to glow in the sunlight, like fire lurching up out of an earthen mound. The same light shines in her eyes. At least this time, their predatorial glint is trained on Fiesi, not me.

Even so, cold claws reach into my chest, stirring up a fresh wave of phantom pain. I curl my fists to stop myself from clutching at it.

"Okay," Fiesi says, sounding rather stunned. I shoot him a quizzical glance. By the time I look back to the wolf, she is stalking away from us, cutting an arc around me as she aims a diagonal line across the empty land.

Fiesi's shoulder nudges mine. "She wants to show us something."

My feet are rooted to the ground. "Show us what?"

"I'm not sure." He grabs my hand again, meeting my eyes with a cheerful smile that feels at odds to the cloud still hanging over him. "It's okay, though. Whatever it is, I'll be there. Brothers stick together, right?"

"Right." I suck in a breath, mirroring his smile as best I can. Edrali didn't hurt me; if anything, it was me who caused the damage. There's no reason for this to go awry.

I came here in search for answers. Now is the time to finally receive them.

Together with Fiesi, I follow after the Synté, leaving the burned husk of an aspen tree behind.

───── ⋆⋅♛⋅⋆ ─────

I will never not love my boys. Look at them helping each other through their angst ;-; Look at Fiesi being soft ;-;

Also fun fact: over the course of this whole (frickin 7k word) chapter, Nathan says the words "I'm sorry" eight times. I'm surprised it's not more, really.

- Pup