Curse of Ash

Chapter 2

Four years.

Reeves tried not to look around the office as he shut the door behind Sidem. Tried not to notice how nothing had changed, from the strewn papers on the desk, to the dark undisturbed ashes in the fireplace. The worn paintings on the walls, the maps haphazardly rolled up in a corner. Even the smell was like something out of time. Curt mahogany and dusty vetiver.

Four years.

Fires roaring. Screams piercing the night.

Reeves pushed as hard as he could against the rising memories, the ones that always sat at the threshold of his mind, threatening to tumble over the edge, dragging him down into the abyss with them.

Four years.

His father had never bothered with his children for too long since their mother had passed, so why now? Something must have happened, something big enough to warrant this visit, especially from someone like Sidem. Reeves could feel the kind of being he was, and while he was tinged in fear as a result, it was not his first time. Nor, did he think, would it be his last.

Though, it raised the most peculiar question. Does his father know what Sidem is?

The letter in his hands was vague enough that Reeves couldn't make much sense of it. Just the starkness of:

          Things are changing, son.

          All our walls are coming down.

          Keep them safe.

There was other nonsense, semantics and niceties in the letter. The usual bullshit Reeves could always expect when it came to his father. But what things were changing? And what walls did he speak of? Did he mean the wall standing between the human lands and the fae ones, separating the continent in half? The same one that has stood for hundreds of years, never letting anything pass from one side to the other?

At least the last bit he knew: keep them safe. Jenner and Alyvia. He'd always keep them safe as long as he could still draw breath. That was his duty as the eldest of the family, and the head of their household since their father had left them. It was the one thing he would never doubt in this world.

Reeves stared at the desk for another moment, remembering how his father looked sitting there; orange eyes glistening from the flickering glow of the fire, darting back and forth across his documents. Gray hairs peeked at his temples, brightly peppered in the tight dark curls atop his head. The smell of burning wood and a hint of lavender. And then the way he'd look up accusingly whenever Reeves tried to sneak in. Disapproval. It sent a spear right through Reeves's chest every single time.

He tore his eyes away from that accursed chair and looked over at Sidem as he inspected a locked chest in the corner. "You look just like him," he said into the silence.

Sidem chuckled, a dark and rumbling sound.

They both knew of whom Reeves spoke of. It was not a face Reeves would ever forget, no matter how hard he tried, or how much time went by. It was the only thing that reminded him of what now lurked in his veins like poison, what he did those years ago. And now seeing that same face, just without the immense power walking through the shadows around them, it was a frightening flashback.

Monsters of flames ate away everything. Cries and cries and cries of help. Unending heat.

"I suppose that's my curse, eh?" Sidem mused with faux amusement. "To be recognized only because of who came before me." Reeves watched Sidem pull his gloves off and run a finger over the chest, his eyes dark and hooded in the dim, though there was no doubt about his intentions with the contents locked inside. And the gold of the lock indeed gleamed as Sidem ran a finger down that as well, as if in taunt. As if in promise.