FENRER

Desert heatwaves slammed down onto his chest and sent a spiral of tangled spiderwebs through his lungs with every breath he took through the ocean's maelstrom. Drums rang through the gales, and he dragged himself out of the abyss of his own mind. The firelamp on the ceiling blurred against the rough stone of the ceiling. His temples swam with depth pressure, and he tapped his fingers against the firm mattress beneath him. Numb burrs dug into his skin when he tried to move, and he sighed. Kon?

"Welcome back, Little Wolf. You need more rest."

His Aeoniir's deep, comforting growl brought a taste of home — a guide through life. Fenrer took in one last, small inhale. We can't stay here. Yuven can't stay here. I need to get him home. Elbow dug into the mattress, he dragged himself up against the complaint of his chest, though he stopped when the door slid open. Though their shape walked in a haze, the intensity of the auric maelstrom betrayed the truth of their identity, doubled by the familiar, irritated scoff when they came closer, hand outstretched.

"Yuven..." Rough sand scratched at the back of his throat, and he winced when the slender hand prodded him back into the sheets. Copies of Yuven swung around the original, with the violets blazing with ferocity, though when Yuven leaned closer, the viciousness died into one of annoyed concern, and Fenrer shivered when Yuven pressed the heel of his palm against his brow. Icy comfort battled the flames, though he shook his head.

"You are boiling — Dimaia told me they gave you a tincture?" Yuven's voice came out in foggy bubbles across his aura.

"What?

"A tincture. Potion. Tonic. Brew. Elixir. Would look something like this." Yuven held out one of his dwindling phials of stardust. He slipped it back into one of the pockets and said, "They said what they gave you will keep you in bed and will alleviate some of the pain." In a flush of colour, Yuven sat down on the chair beside his head. "I retrieved some supplies for when we leave. Whitehaven Pass might be our one chance — at the risk of being caught by Sentinels and brought back to right where we started." Yuven sank into the chair and groaned into his hands. "But we can't, Fenrer."

"We can." Fenrer tore his head off the pillow, but scowled when Yuven slapped his hand on his brow. "Yuven, I feel fine. If we can make it to Whitehaven Pass—"

"One problem." A small hiss expelled through Yuven's nose and he pushed him further into the pillow. "It is too far for you to walk, and I do not want to risk us being trapped again by taking a gryphling carriage — which would mean walking straight back into a city." The maelstrom tightened around himself when he hugged his arms against his sides. "But... I might have another way. Only when you are fully recovered. Not before."

"Oh...?" Fenrer caught tangled air in his chest and another wave of pinpricks stretched around it. "Yuven, if you want to leave, I can manage. I've rested long enough." Upwards off his arms, he frowned when Yuven wrapped his around his shoulders, where Adara's crimson shawl provided further support from the harsh elements of Yuven and Neven's homeland, and he set his hand on Yuven's back. "Just help me get up." Legs swung out from his bed, waves of pressure slammed into his throat and straight into his lungs, and he coughed.

"I think pneumonia is the least of your issues," Yuven mumbled through the ocean waves and nudged him back onto the mattress. "I think you have the snow slurries on top."

"The what?" Fenrer lowered his forearm to his brow and pushed out deviant strands through the dampness across it.

"You are not thinking straight," Yuven enunciated. "Look." He gripped Fenrer's wrist and waved it above his head, and he swatted his hand away and returned it to its comfortable spot. "Besides, even if I entertained that ridiculous notion of yours — Adara is sleeping upstairs. I am going to also try and get some. I advise you do the same." Yuven's expression softened. "I... appreciate what you've done, Molvisaliz. I do. And I appreciate your willingness to push past your own health for mine even after what I've done to you — but I cannot let you do that. You will die if we leave this instant. You need to get that through that thick skull of yours. You are sturdy, strong because of your giant blood, but you're not invincible." He loomed closer, feathers thinned. "Even Avaerilians struggle here. You are sick. So do me one favour and sleep. I shall talk to you later."

He went to call out Yuven when he swung on his heel and stomped out of the room, sliding the door behind him. Darkness encroached with his last inhale of the floating airstones hovering over the bright divots. Auric lilybells bounced across the twilight expanse, and he listened to the hum of Mother's lullaby — of the sun, the moon, and the sea of stars. I promised to tell Adara about it, about that story. He wiped his brow and fought for the same remnants of the sun which burst forth from his soul and the ocean gave birth to the dawn. Kon?

"Yuven is right, Little Wolf."

The bridge of Velteraiia grew out of the tempest and formed to the mist on the other side. Shards of fog floated over and returned in the cycle of the flow. Fenrer searched through the crowd, but Father and Mother disappeared on the other side. His boots hit the mossy, damp stone. Flames danced in his palm when he held it out, the molten core of the dawnblade he left behind. "Kon?" he whispered and turned his back on the land of the dead, where a misty tangle attached him to the giant white wolf. "I need to be able to move. Yuven needs to get home." He slipped off the cobbled steps and shuffled over to him, sinking for his strength. "I know you cannot interfere when it comes down to it... but you did something when I was drowning, didn't you?" He dug his fingers into the cold grass, and tried to shake out the calmness across his shirt. "I don't... remember much of it. Just hearing your voice incant something."

Kon's ears folded back and he lowered his muzzle to the ground. "I only did what I was allowed per our covenant we made back then — survive," he mumbled. "Everything else was due to Reyn's timely intervention. You hung on not from my dwindled strength, but your own. I simply called out to the sun in answer, and it gave a reply. I had to spread out some of my essence to allow that strength within you. I cannot do that a second time." He shook out his fur, and Fenrer frowned at the starry sprinkles shedding off the strands. "You, who have ever refused to stop, who have clung on through much... Our blood cannot prevent death even if it gives us strength to cling onto our lives, until the very last moment where it gives out." His blank blue eyes narrowed without pupils. "You must survive, and that means you must sleep."

Fenrer lifted dark strands off his wet brow. "So you can't help me?"

Kon sidled closer. "I am bound to the land over the bridge," he whispered. "All that I am able to do comes from you. To act for your survival. To create a shield around you. What happens next is in your hands, Little Wolf. You have heard my warning, but it is your choice to heed it." He dissipated into sunlit smoke, and Fenrer found himself sinking into the darkening grass. Everything spun, and he let go of his other senses for the one of truth. The flow bloomed around him, sliced into and stagnant in Naveera. Ice blocked the ooze from escaping its cold prison, and when he brought his sight into the fray, the room continued to dance and flutter in a deep blur.

I understand, but we have to. Fenrer observed the spread of crimson veins throughout the maelstrom. It is the only way. His elbows propped him into a sitting position, and he timed his heartbeat with the crash of waves against rocky cliffs. Stuck to the thick ground below, he lifted himself off the mattress, and tried to blink for his clarity, using the auras to fill in the blanks of the dark. Fire dug into his skin, but he rolled his neck and continued to count, drawing in the magick within his own blood. It sent a deep thrum through his bones, and he tugged off the cloak from the coat hanger and slid on his boots, tightening his leather armor and adjusting his sheathe. A pyretic whisper coursed through his skin when he took on the added weight. He fumbled with the clasp, keeping Adara's shawl protected underneath it. On the trail of the crimson thorns, he dragged himself up the steps, following a consistent beat and the song of the sea.

In the thicket of corruption, he slid open the door. Adara and Yuven sat on their beds, and twisted around at him.

"Fen!" Yuven hissed and snapped to his feet.

"Listen to me," he whispered and clung onto Yuven's arms, where his furious gaze died in a single instant. "I need to get you home." He released a soft laugh when Adara joined them. "I can walk, Yuven. Think. If we go now. If we find a way out... we'll get to Euros and we can rest then." He clapped Yuven's shoulders and broke apart the spiderwebs in his lungs, though sweat buried into the back of his neck.

"Fen, you can't," Adara rasped, and her hand rested on his forearm. Silver lilies sprouted from the auric colorus.

"Maybe so," he acknowledged. "But we don't have an option." He returned his attention to Yuven, digging his fingers into his sleeves. "Both of you got sleep? Tell me."

Both nodded.

"I did as well," he whispered. "So, let's go. Yuven, whatever your plan is, I will follow you. You know this, I just need you to have faith and believe." His strength dwindled when he gave Yuven a tiny, weak shake, but frowned when the lilies retreated back into their own petals and Adara gazed into the flickering fire pit. "I'm not going to die. I know you want to go home more than anything, and I'm not going to prevent that."

Yuven's lips parted in dismay, and his fangs dug into his lower lips when he scowled. In the silence, Fenrer clung onto him when the ground trembled underneath him. Faith. Belief. He held onto the dawn's hope when Yuven released a sigh, then mumbled, "If that is your desire, Molvisaliz." Yuven retreated from his grip, and held out a box to him and Adara. "Inside is fire woven material and a warming tonic. I want each of you to drink it and wrap yourself in the fireweave." He sent a burst of wind into the fireplace, and the embers crushed themselves against the stone. "Just so you know, Molvisaliz, once we leave... we're not stopping again." Pain creased the maelstrom when Yuven considered him. "We are not stopping, but I will drag you if I must."

Fenrer laughed through the webbed pain in his chest, opening the box and taking out the thick phial of orange goo. "I understand, but you won't have to." I swear. He toasted them and downed the jelly in one gulp, a twangy taste between honey and syrup wrapped through his throat, and he unfolded the fireweave, slipping on the gloves and earmuffs before pulling up his cloak's hood for the last of the ensemble while Yuven and Adara did the same. In the full gear for surviving the worst of a blizzard, he frowned when Yuven headed for him. "I can walk."

"Suppose you can, but I want you to save your strength until you need it," Yuven said and swung his arm around his neck. "Save your energy."

"Wait, where are we going?" Adara repeated the motion, and Fenrer buried himself in the silver flow, the sheer power of the entire world itself.

"I will explain my plan when we get there," Yuven said. "Now... let us go before the alchemist notices we've stolen ourselves away." He clutched onto Fenrer's hand. "But you know, you don't have to do this. Not for me."

Fenrer stared out the window to the hurdle of nature's fury once more. One battle lost. Another on the cusp of a final victory underneath the light of dawn. "I know I don't have to, but I will." He smiled at his Oathbound, his best friend, and the only person close enough as a brother. His family, unbound by the confines of blood. "Have faith. You're going to see Maria and Neven again." He inched closer, pulling Yuven out of the despair of ice. "You are going to fly once more, I promise."

I promise.

Yuven considered him, then nodded. "Very well," he murmured.

Fenrer switched around from him to Adara, who frowned at him. "I will keep my word to you." He rolled his shoulders in indication, her outreach of faith and trust.

Adara's hesitation sparked against the current, and she murmured, "And I will keep mine."

Heart swollen with the dawn's rising flame, he nudged them out of the room. On the peak of Sungrove's knolls, the arrows fizzled out against the wind when they left the alchemist shop behind, and walked right back into the frozen wastelands on the edges of the half-buried town.