Wyvern Tails and Phoenix Feathers

The Porcelain Heart, Chapter 6 - Bryn

There was light on Bryn's face, a dusty sunbeam filtered through a splintered skylight. His ice-colored eyes were open, struggling to still the spinning image they beheld. Shards of glass twinkled beside his bloody hand. They caught the reflection of the desert sun high above. It was quite the fall.

He got to his hands and knees. Revelyn was beside him, awake, stirring and dizzied. But Feyd was not within reach. He searched for her form in the dark. Aside from the skylight, there was nothing to illuminate the space. Shades of shadow painted the walls of a dim cavernous room.

He finally found Feyd standing a few stretches away from him. Was his vision still spinning? Were there two of her? No. She was looking at her reflection in front of a vast floor-length mirror. Bryn coughed and called out her name.

"You should have told me," she responded quietly.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around her her own body as if to hold herself together.

"What should I have told you?" he asked. He could feel his heartbeat accelerate. He already knew what she meant. Her gaze into the mirror was uninterrupted, disturbed and saddened by her own reflection.

"When we fell, I felt nothing," she said. "You reeled in pain and I felt nothing. I got to my feet while you writhed on the floor. I should have known it then, but how could I guess? You said you revived me. But this, this isn't revival. This isn't life, is it?"

Bryn felt Sir Laurie's eyes upon him as well. He hadn't shared the truth of Reyd's condition with anyone; it was his secret alone.

"It isn't death," Bryn offered.

"That's not what I asked," said Feyd. She turned away from the mirror, her body quaking with anger. "It's not life, not as any person should live it. I am on borrowed time. I should be dead. And you, you've kept me here, for what?"

"To save a life."

Bryn spoke in nearly a whisper. He knew there was nothing he could say that would satisfy her. She felt betrayed and rightfully so.

"Don't lie to me," she scoffed. "The mirror. It showed me the truth."

"The mirrors from the legend," said Revelyn with wide-eyed revelation. He noticed the golden frames of many others arranged around the periphery. "The ones that show your truest form."

"And you know what I see?" asked Feyd. "I see a corpse. My soul is tethered here by some necromancer who fooled me with his youth and warm smile." A tear escaped her eye and she quickly wiped it away. "Please, tell me why you'd toy with my life. What am I to you?"

Bryn used his staff to pull himself to his feet. A small shard of glass was stuck in his knee. He bent again to pull it from his flesh. The pain was better than he deserved.

"I- I told you the truth," he stammered. "We need your skill to craft a bowl from the heart of a golem."

"Yes, to bring this Oran Highwater back from death," said Feyd. "Will he be like me? Will he exist merely to perform a task?"

Bryn shook his head, but he wasn't sure if it was an honest response. Oran was being resurrected specifically to defeat the Dread Wyvern. That was his task. But no, he would not be like Feyd, unless Ralak found a way to intervene.

"I'm told the resurrection of mages is more complete," he said.

Feyd put her face in her hands and nodded. She muttered something quietly to herself and sighed.

"You should have told me," she said. "I deserved to know before I left Magrite. I still would have come. I wholly believe in your mission and its importance to all of you. And I understand how such a journey could garner tough decisions. But now- Now I can hardly look at you."