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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.”
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 consecrated 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 stop by their little grotto and grab something we need for our trek. He tossed his bag over his shoulder and waited until he heard her footsteps but never looked back.
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