Emberbloom: A Midsummer's Quest (Echo and Xylina)

[Xylina Taryn]

Xylina stood at the edge of the royal gardens, the soft hum of early morning filling the air. Dew clung to the petals of vibrant blooms, and the first light of dawn painted the sky in shades of lavender and gold. She had always found solace in these moments of quiet, but today, her tranquility was shattered by the scroll clutched tightly in her hand.

She unfolded the letter once more, her eyes skimming over the elegant script of King Kyan's handwriting.

"The rare Emberbloom Flower, crucial for the Midsummer Festival, must be retrieved from the depths of the Grimshade Hollow. Echo will accompany you, for your combined skills are needed to ensure success.

This is not a suggestion. You'll depart immediately. Send word when you've returned upon success.

King Raventhorn"

Xylina's jaw clenched as she crumpled the letter in her hand. Of course, King Kyan would orchestrate such a scheme, knowing full well she would never agree to this venture willingly. Echo. The very name brought a surge of old, buried emotions to the surface—anger, betrayal, a bitterness she had never quite managed to let go.

She glanced around the garden, half expecting Echo to appear any moment, as if summoned by the king’s decree. Her fingers traced the outline of the pendant around her neck, a token of her promise to serve the kingdom. It was that promise alone that kept her from storming into the castle to voice her protest.

Instead, Xylina took a deep breath, willing herself to remain calm. The Midsummer Festival was a sacred tradition, and the Emberbloom Flower was indeed vital. She could not deny the importance of their task, nor the king’s wisdom in pairing their complementary abilities. But working with Echo again—after all these years—was a different matter entirely.

She heard the familiar sound of approaching footsteps, light yet purposeful, and knew without turning that Echo had arrived. Xylina straightened her shoulders, masking her inner turmoil with a facade of cool detachment. This mission would test more than just their skills; it would challenge the very fabric of their strained relationship.

Xylina finally turned to face Echo, her expression unreadable. "It seems we have a task ahead of us," she said, her voice steady but devoid of warmth. "We should discuss our plan and leave as soon as possible." The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, but there was no turning back now. The fate of the Midsummer Festival was laid on their shoulders. She refused to be the obstacles that stood in the way of the joy the Festival brought to their people.

[Echo Silversun]

There once was a boy whose light burned so bright it lit the light of those who saw or passed him by. His eyes held his love and joy. His heart filled with excitement and longing. His mind was packed with the tales of the gods and their heroes, and the people they saved. His soul was etched with desire and burning for adventure. 

Nonetheless, this World is cruel, and its people? Dark, and so the boy's light was snuffed out.

His soul lost its purpose and that loss took everything with it. His mind turned away from the stories that once brought him such joy. All that was once engraved on the walls of his heart were naught but meaningless writings on the now stone walls. 

And his once effervescent jade eyes met a girl. A girl who was a flame, who burned so bright she made the light in the boy reignite. She taught him how to love again and in turn, he let her go so her light could reach all of those he kept her from.

There was no anger. No violent reaction. Nothing flew across the room in a burst of rage. The paper in his hands didn't even burn. He was just numb. And while those emotions were surely all there he no longer reacted how everyone expected. His taciturn demeanor was a hard one for all to accept. But like the rest of the world, he grieved and grew differently. And so his anger no longer went misplaced. He was alone at this moment and had been for quite some time. As the messenger who'd delivered the scroll had left hours ago but Echo's eyes never peeled from the words on the page and a swirl of adverse emotions overtook him entirely. Xylina, the name of his new partner, wasn't even the problem here. While of course that wasn't great it was the mission itself that was. 

The Emberbloom Flower… he used to do this every Midsummer Festival with Aspin. His youngest sister had a knack for the agriculture of the forest. She knew every plant and animal by name and it seemed they knew her right back. His heart clutched at the distant memories which still felt like fresh wounds. And he dropped the scroll as if he were the one who had just been burned. He couldn't recall the last Midsummer Festival he'd been to. Or the last time he was sent on a mission within Thistlemoon. But most of all and what he feared was he couldn't remember his sisters’ voices. 

He was starting to forget. And that terrified him beyond comparison because as the last of his line, he seemed like he was the only one who remembered them. Would their memory die with him? He rubbed his face from the stress plaguing his mind. Changed the way he breathed as his chest grew tight when he tried to remember the way they laughed. Argued. Joked. Walked. Ran… His mind had been haunted by their deaths so long that that was all he could remember clearly.

He needed air. He needed to see them first before seeing… her. He pulled himself together. Bathed. Shaved. And made himself presentable. Which he only did when he visited his family’s burial site or when Kyan summoned him. So the looks of pleasant surprise as he passed his fellow Fae by didn't surprise him. He had gone around looking rough for so long that it was a nice change of pace for him. 

He stopped in the garden first to get their favorite flowers. A moment he thought was private. A moment he let his guard down as he lovingly found each bud he needed. Careful in his manner so as to not burn them from the natural heat he radiates. He was lost in his attempts to recall If he had any mementos of or from his family. But he knew… he knew everything he had of and from them had burned with his home that day. 

He froze when she spoke. His stern cold face and harsh glare accompanied a sharp breath. He wasn't paying attention and was passing through the garden after getting the flower buds he needed. He also thought he was alone so she took him by surprise. Despite him unwittingly approaching her. He didn't pay attention to Xylina enough to know this was her station. Now thinking of it he actually hadn't seen this Fae since they were teens and she caused him to fail a major trail to becoming a sentry. He didn't recognize her honestly. And if she hadn't said anything he would've just ignored her. But once her words registered he could suddenly see that that girl he once hated had blossomed into a woman he still hated. 

He grits his teeth. He didn't want to go on this journey again. Not without his baby sister. And certainly not with Xylina. But there was nothing he could do unless he wanted to disobey the King and betray Thistlemoon. So he held his tongue within his clenched teeth. “Sure.” He said through his teeth. “In a minute. I'm busy now.” He didn't want to explain. Nor did he feel he had to. And with that, he walked past her. 

It'd been… way too long. “I'm sorry.” His breath was low and soft. Spoken like his words if whispered too loud would break the ground beneath his feet. He planted the buds taken from the garden with special permission. He planted a new flower every time he visited. And when he was done he rested on his knees. He'd stay here all day if he could. Hidden away. Hoping he would remember at least his parents' laughter. Or his Sisters’ smiles. Instead, his cloud of memories was shattered by the sound of her footsteps. Which of course didn't help how he hated her.

Somehow, he had managed to not even see a glimpse of her for centuries. And now it seemed he couldn't escape her. Maybe he should've explained what he was doing. Just so she would give him that privacy but she didn't seem the type to respect him enough in any event. His guard shot up as he stood. Once again holding his tongue solely out of respect for his family’s burial ground. He passed her once again. And once he felt he was far enough he spoke. But avoided what he really wanted to say. “The hardest part of this mission will be keeping the Emberbloom alive since neither of us can use water.” 

[Xylina Taryn]

The air between them was electric, their cold stone faces masking the tumultuous history they shared. Her azure eyes crackled with the energy of a brewing storm, one that might have mirrored her Thunder abilities if she had mastered other elemental powers. It was clear he had grown stronger—this was the first time she truly assessed him. She had always moved in the darkness of the shadows, catching only glimpses of him.

Gazing at him this long stirred a tempest within her soul, a maelstrom of memories and emotions. She recalled his abandonment during her youth, a betrayal that had shattered her meticulously planned path. Her mind drifted to Ze’ev, the man who had promised to train her in Echo Place. A chill ran down her spine as she remembered the strike upon her body, the near-miss of an unwanted marriage. The night of their wedding, when he didn’t show up, the relief she felt was profound and liberating.

Shaking her head to return to the present, she saw him grit his teeth, raising a brow at his brusque I’m busy. She wanted to point out the scroll and the message, but instead, curiosity got the better of her. She followed behind him after a few moments, silent, observing his movements until he stopped. She remembered his clan, his family, his sisters—their laughter, the times she braided their hair. Pulling her gaze away from him, she stared at the Mapleshade, waiting for him to initiate the mission.

She knew Kyan would despise it if she started on her own, and she didn’t dare think of what punishment he might inflict. As he brushed past her once again, as if she were merely an obstacle in his way, she huffed, fighting the urge to send him to his knees with a Thunderwave. Twirling on her heels, she fell in step behind him, her mouth remaining closed until he spoke. As he brought up the need to keep the flower alive, the oversight from Kyan surprised her. After all, she could only wield the Thunderstep Clan’s elemental ability, and had little knowledge of Echo abilities.

“Well, we can get an eternal decanter of water for the mission. Then water won’t be an issue. Do you know of a certain transport method?” Her tone was neutral as she addressed him, turning to head toward Kyan’s magical item room. It was a place shrouded in secrecy, known only to a handful and accessed by even fewer. Yet Echo and she were trusted with their mission, allowing them to take a few items deemed useful. She didn’t look back to see if he was following her; she wasn’t his keeper, merely his forced partner at the moment.

As she passed the centaur Gwainar, he called out to her, “When are we going on that date, Lina?” His confident smirk curved on his lips.

Xylina gave a gentle pat to the centaur’s arm as she passed him. “When I grow hooves, Gwainar dear, when I grow hooves.” The song of laughter left her throat as he flicked his tail at her in playful response, nodding toward Echo before returning to his post.

Turning down the hallway toward the magic item room, she found the hidden door and slid her palm along it, watching it pop open as she walked into the room. The scent of magic hit her like a wave, the potent energy almost overwhelming. How many of these items could destroy the happiness that Kyan fought so hard to protect? She shifted over to the desk where the gnome sat. “Greetings, Grool,” she said, smiling at the elder gnome who looked up from his book at her. “We are off to retrieve the Emberbloom. Do you still have the endless decanter of water?” She leaned over the desk to sneak a peek at what the gnome was reading, her curiosity piqued.

[Echo Silversun]

Beneath that cold and tumultuous demeanor was nothing but a broken man. A lonely soul. A boy who only stayed alive because he was needed. But not wanted. It didn't matter that there were Fae who tried to appeal to him and convince him otherwise. His heavily guarded heart couldn't be pierced by their words or actions. Xylina looked away first this time but she was staring hard enough at him to see there was no fight left in him. Not the kind one would need to live at least. But there was that spark of loyalty lodged behind his gaze. The kind that despite the past he may have had with Xylina he would protect her with his life. That was his job. That was the only reason he was assigned to this mission.

His body seized violently at her words. As he spun with a heated breath to back his molten words. Yet she was already turned and walking away. So smug in her reasoning that he had no moment to correct her.

What game was she playing with him?
Was she really resorting to this?
What had he done to deserve this manner of torture?
Did she even know?

A sullen wave crashed over him as he followed. If she wasn't going to wait. If she was just going to assume she knew the answers he would swallow the pain. If only to have her learn the lesson of listening before she proceeds alone. A grace he would only grant her once. Because he wouldn't be able to swallow the pain a second time.

His already foreboding face chilled further as Gwainar approached him. Coming to a stoney halt when the centaur stepped in his path. Never to be regarded by Echo otherwise. “Nice to see you shaved.”
Silence.

“I'm happy you're getting some fresh air and sunlight. Had all of us worried after locking yourself away when you returned to Thistle.”
Silence.

“Oh, I get it. Trying to appear all tough and mysterious for Xylina. That won't work. I promise I've tried it.”
Silence.

Gwainar let a harsh breath from his nose as he glanced at Xylina. Quickly adding up on what the issue was and realizing it wasn't him. “Come one man, It's been a while since I've seen my right hand. I just want you to know I care.

“Mmm, maybe if you lost some weight seeing either of your hands wouldn't be such a problem.” The silence was at last broken but besides the faint smirk secretly embedded in the corner of his mouth Echo gave Gwainar no other regard. Still satisfied with what he got, he moved from Echo's path. Flicking his ear as he let him pass. “Ass. You'll pay for that in drills when you return.” The fae didn't reply as he instead braced himself before the entrance of the item room. Holding his breath as he squeezed inside.

His heart suddenly races. The scents. The unending swirl of energy. The coolness of the room. The sound of Grools's quill scratching across the parchment page of his book. It was all too familiar. The panic steadily growing deep within Echo couldn't be controlled. He'd have stayed outside in any other case in all honesty. But he needed to know one thing. Did she truly not know? His breath grew stagnant the longer he stayed in the room. “Oh!” Grool seemed surprised at first as it had been far too long since someone had requested that item.

“Oh.”

That one carried a grim and remorseful tone. His suddenly saddened eyes lock with Xylina's before they drag towards Echo. Who now felt like the walls were closing in on him. His body was heating up. Hotter and faster than he could control. And that heat quickly filled the room. He knew they were both looking at him without having to look back. While he focused on one spot in an attempt to calm down.

Grool's silence was loud. He didn't know how to explain this gently. And with Echo present. Clearly fighting his emotions to cool off. Grool couldn't find his words. “Aspen had it last.” Echo's voice didn't sound like his. Given the situation, why would it? “It was destroyed when she…” Silence. Stillness Like a sudden haunting chilled him to the bone. He stared down at his hands. He couldn't speak about what happened that day. Because all he could remember was his sister's blood on his hands.

Suddenly he turned and nimbly existed the tight room. Taking all the concentrated heat with him. After a moment Grool continued in Echo's absence. “They were supposed to make the journey together that day and were just waiting until sunrise. She had gotten the decanter from me not an hour before…” His words drift as he seems to let his mind go with it. Looking off at something that wasn't there. “Maybe if I had asked her to stay for tea…” he never finished that thought and sighed a saddened breath instead. “Silversun is the only one who's successfully made the journey without the decanter before. He's never shared his secret of how though.”

The cool breeze desperately helped. As he sat near the mirror lake where the wind blew a little more when you were so close to the water. He could see her approach from the water's reflection and suddenly wished his skin was still hot. So the heat could keep her away from him like it did with everyone else. He hopped up to his feet. “We should get going so we make it back in time and get this over with.”

He walked away without ever looking her way. While he had gotten his answer that she hadn't known. Or remembered, he desperately tried to avoid talking or referencing anything that just happened. “Hope you made amends with the pixies because we'll have to stopping by their little grotto and grabbing something we need for our trek." He tossed his bag over his shoulder and waited until he heard her footsteps but never looked back.

[Xylina Taryn]

Xylina longed to complete this mission and return to training the younger members of the Thunder Clan who dreamed of becoming warriors. Her heart ached for the simplicity of her old life—a life untainted by the presence of the one who had let her down most profoundly. The scars she bore, both visible and hidden, were a testament to the pain he had caused. With every step she took to distance herself from him, she hoped to maintain the facade that he no longer affected her. Yet, she knew all too well that he likely relished the torment his mere presence inflicted upon her.

With a determined stride, Xylina entered the room, intent on retrieving the bloom and returning to the festival. Yet, the somber expression on Grool’s face reminded her of the gravity of her friend's death, a burden that weighed heavily in the air. Aspen had always been the buffer, the reason she hadn’t acted on her darker impulses toward Echo during their youth. The room's atmosphere seemed to shift with each word Echo uttered, swinging from cold to warm. She was poised to confront him, ready to unleash her anger and tell him exactly what she thought. He seemed eager to blame her for the delay in retrieving the bloom, a scheme she suspected he orchestrated. Yet, just as quickly, the chill returned, and she realized Echo had left her to face Grool’s scrutiny alone.

"Don't blame yourself; the loom was woven long before stardust settled in you. Leave the what-ifs behind, for it can't be undone," she said, her voice steady despite the internal conflict. She understood the irony in her advice—so blind she was to her own flaws and stubbornness.

"I apologize for intruding on your crafting. Echo did not inform me that the search for the decanter was futile before I arrived here. I bid you a good day." With a slight bow of her head, she turned to leave, Aspen’s smiling face lingering in her mind. She had learned of Aspen’s death long after it occurred, forced to mourn in solitude due to circumstances beyond her control.

As Xylina moved towards the warmth that beckoned her, her mind wandered. “What about the pixies?” she asked, her tone edged with annoyance. “What can the pixies provide that is so significant? All they desire is chaos. The last 'gift' they gave me had me coughing up blue glitter for a week.” She emphasized "gift" with a touch of sarcasm, aware that Echo likely remained indifferent.

Trailing about five to ten feet behind Echo, one of her blades danced between her fingers, her mind desperately clinging to combat maneuvers as a distraction. The air thickened with the cloying scent of pixie dust, so saccharine it could make anyone's stomach churn. Or perhaps it was just her frustration threatening to take control, for being in pixie territory was nothing like dealing with their prankish gifts.

Halting the twirl of her blade, Xylina heightened her senses, attuned to the environment around them. Silence hung heavily—no insects, no birds, no pixies. The eerie quiet was unsettling. Crouching low, she placed her hand on the earth beneath her. “Something’s wrong,” she murmured, knowing full well he could hear her. “Is it always like this when you visit?” Rising, she closed the distance between them, her eyes scanning the dense foliage for any signs of danger lurking within.