Chương 40: The Lost Songs of the Fire Hero

"A Guardian?" both Aelia and Sevran said in unison. The zombie-looking boy leaned forward in anticipation. Out of the corner of his eye Anadis caught Hel and squinted, trying to signal for help. She ignored him. He sighed and tried to remember the exact description she'd used in the cave. He couldn't remember. In his defense, he had just cut off his own arm. With a shake of her tiny head, she relented.

"Guardians are spirits bound to Grull-infested areas. They're not animals in the traditional sense, and they aren't born like anything else alive." He nodded, grateful to the winged girl, and passed it on to the other two, finger already up to cut off questions. Thankfully, they didn't ask, though they did look at him strangely.

"When Leywave pulses concentrate in one place thick with cursed essence, the land itself protests. The pulses gather into a shape. That shape is a Guardian." Hel finished like someone tired of repeating herself. Anadis could tell she was done with his memory.

"Then how come Gusty is following me instead of protecting the forest like he's supposed to?" Sevran asked as soon as Anadis finished speaking. Again, Anadis had no idea how to answer. Luckily for him, Hel had the answer ready.

"I believe this Guardian has chosen the boy as its anchor," Hel said, drifting down to Anadis's leg.

"It sees enough potential in him to abandon the forest and place its fate in the boy's hands. Through him, it hopes to fulfill the purpose for which it was born." Anadis relayed the interesting information to him.

"It chose me?" Sevran jabbed a finger at his sternum.

"I think so," Anadis said as they both looked at the fox in question, sleeping soundly on Aelia's thighs.

"How do you know so much about all this, about the Imprint and the Guardians?"

"Er, I… read a lot." Hel huffed, almost a chuckle, as she touched the tip of one antler horn with two fingers.

"Is that what I am now? A book?"

"But Gusty also saved and followed you, Anadis," Aelia said, not lifting her gaze from the fox.

"How do we know Gusty hasn't chosen you as well?"

"That…" Anadis looked down at Hel expectantly, hoping she would illuminate their ignorance as she always did. Hel sighed and floated up to his shoulder, perching there.

"Typically, the Guardian's anchors have a distinct mark. Inquire with this boy if he has observed anything similar on his body."

"Have you seen any mark manifested on your body?" Anadis asked. With a frown, Sevran shook his head.

"There should be one," Hel affirmed.

"Perhaps it's on his back where he can't see it."

"In your back, perhaps?" The boy turned and rolled up his linen shirt. There was nothing.

"Just remove it completely," Anadis said. Hesitating, Sevran did. Anadis' brows traveled upward as he was caught off guard by the deep scar on his chest. He wouldn't dare ask what had left it there—it was obvious. He also made a point to glance toward Aelia with a pointed gaze, watching for any reaction. There was no flush of the cheeks or anything troublesome. Good, that means she's not attracted to him or… is very good at hiding it.

Sevran continued stripping off garments until the poor lanky boy was left only with his loincloth, covering his private parts. This time, Aelia made a great effort not to look his way, both palms hiding her embarrassed expression.

"This is ridiculous and humiliating. I told you he hadn't chosen me—" Chomp. A shriek left Sevran as Gusty leaped from Aelia's lap and bit his right butt cheek. Through the loincloth, a small orange light glowed, forming a clear outline of some sort of mark that looked like a fox's head.

"So that's where it was. No wonder you couldn't see it," Aelia muttered, eyes fixed on the boy's butt.

"But why there?!" Sevran shouted, glaring at Gusty. The door creaked open, and the soft clink of silverware against porcelain drifted in before Grandma Anna.

"My grandson, I've brought you something to eat—" she began, then stopped mid-step. Her eyes swept over the room, and her lips pursed in scandalized disapproval.

"Boy! Have you no shame? Why in the world are you naked?" She set the tray down on the nightstand with a huff, mouth set in a thin line of disapproval.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am, I was just—""Trying to put on a show for my granddaughter?"

"No, grandmother, of course not!"

"Aelia! A young lady of your upbringing, observing such indecent behavior! What would people think? Have you no sense of propriety?" Anadis almost laughed. Hel couldn't quite keep the smile off her face either. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

After they'd explained things to a grandmother who refused to hear a word until Sevran put some clothes on, Anadis swallowed a bite of fried egg and beef bacon and watched Sevran lace his pants, face red as a beet. Grandma sat with her arms crossed, and her nostrils flared, as though she were already thinking that giving Sevran lodging might not have been a wise decision.

"Is that Songs of the Fire Hero?" Sevran asked after eyeing the book Grandma had sitting in her lap. He tried to sound casual, but his voice betrayed him with a tremor. Grandma had that disgruntled expression she so often wore and didn't offer Sevran a reply. Taking a sip of water, Anadis wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, "Yes, it's a fairy tale book Grandma used to read us all the time."

"My father used to tell me all types of stories about it as well," Sevran commented, now leaning against the open shutters since he had given up his chair to Grandma. He stroked the vines creeping into the room. Hel drifted closer to Grandma and gave the book a scrutinizing look. Is she interested in that book?

"The Lost Songs of the Fire Hero is more than just fairy tales," Grandma said, her tone brooking no argument.

"They say the Fire Hero—or Flame of the North—was a hero from millennia before the gods awoke, fighting something beyond Grulls."

"What? The only thing worse than Grulls is just another Grull of a higher ascension," Anadis challenged.

"We don't know that. History is hidden. In fact, this book itself is banned all around the continent, in all empires and citadels alike."

"Why would they prohibit a fairy tale?" Aelia raised the question Anadis wanted to ask himself.

"Well, think about it." Grandma's eyes narrowed, thoughtful.

"How could there be a hero who fought and slew Grulls while the gods slept? Where did that power come from? It couldn't have been a Blessing—Gods were in slumber. So they called it a heretic's book. One that defies the gods and suggests there might be something else out there. Something beyond them."

"I believe it," Sevran said.

"My father said it was impossible to get a copy of that book. That only diamond-class nobles or high ascension Blessens could get their hands on one. He always wanted a copy."

"Then how come we have a copy?" Anadis asked. Grandma winked.

"I have my ways." Of course she does.

"Here, let me read you a passage of it," Grandma proposed, her fingers caressing the leather-bound book.

"Can I listen too?" The voice came from the door. White hair fell like a curtain in front of striking blue eyes.

"Albus, of course you can. Come here." Anadis patted the spot beside him on the bed. Albus walked in, gaze bright, and sat cross-legged beside him. Anadis threw his good arm around his brother's shoulder, pulling him close. He felt like he hadn't seen his twin in hundreds of years—in some ways, he actually hadn't.

"Marvelous. I haven't read to my grandkids in years. You're all so grown up now." It was a fact that Anadis hadn't always liked reading. He used to hate it, a stark contrast to his first life as Leander, where he'd been an escapist reader. In Gaelora, there weren't that many fiction books. Unlike back on Earth, where there were plenty of options—fantasy books, sci-fi, manga, web novels, and more than a person could consume in an entire life.

If it weren't for Grandma, who had such a passion for reading and always found a way to turn even the most boring history lesson into an epic fantasy, Anadis would never have developed his own passion for it.

"Ahem." Grandma cleared her throat, her fingers delicately flipping through the pages. Then she began reading, her voice warm and gentle like a blanket on a cold night.

"A long, long time ago, when the stars were not as clear, when men could make their swords sing, there lived a hero unlike any other. His name was lost to history. Some called him the Flame of the North, dressed in armor fashioned from dragon hide and wielding a sword of blessed shard. He stood alone, bearing a common cause, at the gates of a fallen capital. When all other armies fled, he stood and held the ground."

She paused briefly, and Anadis took that moment to notice how intently, and unlike herself, Hel was listening to it. Grandma licked the tip of her finger before flipping the page.

"The hero once claimed his purpose was to rid the world of ruin and sorrow. He tried for so long. Yet in time, he learned a cruel truth: no man can save the world from itself. After millennia, the elements have forgotten the flames of the warrior's name. Yet the whispering winds still remember a hero shrouded in fire, standing beneath what some say was the first quiet, starry sky… with a goddess's Blessing at his back." Grandma's voice thinned as she shut the book with a soft thump.

"But the story itself says he carried a goddess's Blessing with him?" Aelia questioned.

"Doesn't that already explain where he got his power from?"

"Some say that part was added in somewhere along the lines of history," Grandma winked.

"You know. So it isn't as heretic."

"So, in the end, he couldn't achieve his goal of saving the world?" Albus asked.

"Well, if we were to assume he indeed was a real person, then no, he didn't," Grandma confirmed.

"Because we know the real history of the gods descending and choosing to bless some of us, like you four." Now that Anadis thought about it, it was almost unheard of for three kids from the same family to become Blessens, with another even being an Attuner. He didn't have the exact percentages, but he'd bet that most diamond-class families didn't have four out of every five kids becoming Blessens within their ranks.

Then he glanced at Sevran, and the thought came unbidden but pressing all the same—Anadis still didn't know what his Blessing was or exactly how he healed his arm.

"Sevran," he called, cutting into their chat about the Fire Hero tale.

"You never told me how you cured me." Suddenly everyone's eyes widened, and they started avoiding his gaze.

"What? Why are you all not looking away from me?" No one spoke. Anadis was beginning to feel scared.

"Is no one going to tell me?"

"I know how he did it," Albus cut in, tone flat.

"No!" Aelia said aloud, almost a shout. What is going on?

"Hey! Are you serious? Someone tell me how he healed my arm." No one spoke. Aelia even flicked a little warning at Albus. Anadis frowned at their nerve. Why weren't they telling him? Then he gasped, stiffening.

"You didn't—you didn't do anything weird to me while I was out, did you, you creep?"

"What the hell?! No!" Sevran quickly turned his head toward him, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

"I don't swing that way!" he yelled, his face twisted.

"Then how did you fix my arm?" Anadis shouted, shaking his baby fingers.

"I'll tell you," Aelia said, hesitantly.

"No, let me do it," Sevran sighed.

"I'll tell you, but you won't like it…" Anadis glared, showing no fear.

"Try me."

"Oh dear, this is going to be bad," Grandma commented, a hand on her forehead. Seriously, they're scaring me. Sevran's face hardened.

"My Blessing… is Graveblessed. My blood and flesh are harmful if ingested. That's how I managed to kill the Grull. The damn thing took a chunk out of my shoulder and paid for it. My blood acts as a paralyzer, while my flesh is a toxin; it causes nausea, dizziness, and disorientation. That's one of my abilities I call Rotten."

"I see," Anadis said slowly, nodding.

"That's impressive, but that doesn't explain how you cured me."

"Well… you see," Sevran scratched the back of his neck, glancing away again.

"I have another ability called Sweet. It's the opposite of Rotten. It lets my blood heal too. Weakly. Just enough to ease and stitch small wounds."

"Wait… did you make me drink your blood—" Sevran raised his palm, cutting him off.

"I'm not done. In your case, your arm was just cut off, so my blood wouldn't have been enough…" Anadis's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. A bad premonition crept up his spine.

"Don't tell me—""My flesh's healing capabilities are far greater than my blood's, to the point that it can even regrow limbs." Sevran's jaw tightened, a look of pure guilt settling on his face. He grimaced, the apology seeming to tear itself from him.

"So yeah… we had to. I'm sorry…"