Songs of Souls

005: The Weight of a Vow

The clash of elemenium echoed in Hirua's skull, a discordant symphony against the darkness. Then, from nothingness, a hand emerged – withered as old parchment, its trembling fingers whispering a silent plea. Before he could grasp it, a haze of violet swallowed the hand, the discord fading into a silence as chilling as the void.

Hirua shot up in bed, a choked gasp escaping his lips. His sweaty hands clenched the damp sheets. The dream again...

He threw off the blankets and stood, gaze drawn to the renewed light of past-midnight filtering through the window. The traakan's low-pitched trill was the only sound that dared to break the silence. Each sound pricked at his resolve, reminding him of the lives he'd vowed to protect.

A golden amulet clenched in his hand, its scarlet core gleaming in the faint light. He sought solace in the warmth of the stone, but it did little to quell the cold, restless energy that churned within him. He gripped the amulet so tightly, the scarlet stone digging into his palm like a suppressed scream. The dream gnawed in his mind, a chilling reminder of a past he couldn't outrun. But something else flickered in his grip – a new resolve battling with the weight of his vow.

- - - > xxx •D• xxx < - - -

Deynfif's hand hovered over the door of Hirua's room. He hesitated, the aftermath of last night's tension lingering in the air. A sigh, soft as the settling dust, escaped his lips as he finally knocked. Three deliberate taps, each a silent plea for his brother to open the door.

Silence answered him. With a sinking heart, he grabbed the handle. As he opened the door, his gaze fell upon the motionless lump beneath the blankets. The kindling light of dawn slanted through the window, highlighting the distance that had grown between them overnight. A familiar tightness gripped his chest, a sensation like a fist clenching around his heart. What if this was their final goodbye?

"I'll leave now, brother." He adjusted his scarf, the familiar motion a useless comfort against the storm brewing both outside Eard's borders and in his own heart. With a final, determined step, he walked out, shoulders squared but heavy with the weight of a silent goodbye.

He stepped outside. The first rays of kindlight warmed his face as excited chatter of children followed him as he walked, their voices bouncing off the stone houses.

"Just like you, Deynfif, I'll fight when I'm big!" A skinny boy declared, pummeling the air with his fists. "Those bad guys...I'll make 'em bleed! They won't know what hit 'em!"

A chubby boy, missing a front tooth, puffed out his chest. "Twice as hard, that's me!" He stabbed a grubby finger towards the sky. "Just you wait, Deynfif! I'm gonna be super strong like Hirua." He saw a fierce determination in the boy's stance, a mirror of Hirua's younger self.

He stopped, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He chuckled, picturing himself, Hirua, and Einntyr as boys, sparring under his father's watchful eye. He could almost feel the clash of their energies again, hear their laughter echoing against the ancient oak. A sharp pang, a cold reminder of the years gone by, pierced his chest. A silent breath escaped him.

Simpler times.

A brief smile touched his lips as the children's laughter faded. He nodded at them, remembering his own youthful enthusiasm for games of pretend battle.

"Being brave isn't just about charging forward. It's like solving a puzzle – you need to think it through, consider your options, and make a plan." he placed a hand on the shoulder of a boy with a round face. "Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is step back and come up with a better strategy."

His smile deepened but didn't quite reach his eyes, which held a thoughtful intensity. "Remember," he tapped a finger to his temple. "even the best strategies need practice. Keep learning, stay adaptable, and you'll find strength you never knew you had."