It has been done. Hinny is buried. It all happened too fast and Xīlōxōch is still trying to take everything in. She walks away from the party and sees Leila mourning Hinny, but it’s clear something else is on her mind. She slowly approaches Leila from behind, stepping firmly on the leaves below to announce her coming from a distance. She stops a few feet from Leila.
“You did good work saving Billy, Leila, but you don’t seem proud of it. Is something bothering you?”
There was a long stretch of silence. Leila didn’t respond nor did she attempt to create any form of eye contact. She took a deep breath and exhaled — audible to Xīlōxōch. “I’m… glad he’s okay. I’m… just… I’m just tired.”
She reacted just about the way Xīlōxōch expected — cold and silent, unfitting for fire. “I am too. I’ll get to the point: it doesn’t look like you got the shard you wanted. We have that in common.”
“Shard…?” She shakes her head. “No… I didn’t want anything in the first place — perhaps you already forget that this was forced upon us. But, in a cruel twist of fate, it mocks me with flames. Fire… something I was taught to abhor; never to use without good reason or for the sheer purpose of sustenance… To burn things recklessly… I would not wield it as a tool, never. These are the beliefs, the tenets that I must uphold…”
She finally faces Xīlōxōch. “I didn’t know what I wanted from the shard, but now that I am aware of the possibilities, I wish I had Billy’s powers… I… no, not to harm others… Oh… Hinny… Poor thing.” Leila tries her best to hold back her tears, then quickly shifts. “What do you mean, you seemed to be in pure joy whilst you fought that thing… a dragon?”
“And the gods gave a bird the power of water, as if stripping me of my flight wasn’t cruel enough.” Xīlōxōch lets out a little chuckle. “I enjoyed fighting the dragon because I thought we didn’t stand a chance — I thought I had to say my last words. But our shards saved us. And yours did a lot to save Billy. Was that not a good reason to use it?”
Leila made an effort to suppress her laughter, though a hint of a smile escaped her. The idea of an avian humanoid with the power of water did seem rather curious if not ridiculous. She chose not to delve into it further for now.
“Well… yes, but I did something regrettable. I scorched away life and nature… My intent was only to sever the vines to save him, but then it happened. I don’t believe it was caused by my shard, though. It felt like something else entirely…” She pauses. “I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss this further. It’s a painful memory, one I’d rather not relive.”
Xīlōxōch smiled seeing Leila suppressing her laughter — there’s finally some joy in her. Until the mention of a painful memory. “We might have more in common than we think.” She pauses to think of the proper wording. “I’m saying this from experience: your power doesn’t have to be out of control. Your deity forbids reckless burning, then obey. Master the power of fire and you’ll determine what burns and what doesn’t. You will become a more powerful servant.”
Leila fixed her gaze on Xīlōxōch, her expression pensive. “More in common than you think… What do you mean by that?” Her eyes remained locked onto Xīlōxōch’s, revealing her vulnerability. The weight of her secret was etched on her face, clear for anyone to see.
“I have no control over it,” she confessed with a heavy sigh, “and I never will. There’s no one to teach me how… I’ve spent my entire life hiding it, ignoring it, wishing it away. But I’ve always been able to summon fire, and more, with little to no effort. Wyverna… I want them gone, and the shard too. I want nothing to do with any of it.” Her words carried a profound sadness, one that predated the tragic events of Keldern Village.
Xīlōxōch was right — they did have more in common. She looks back at Leila with empathy in her eyes. Leila’s story reminded her of her own childhood. She wanted to open up, but not too much. She decided to tell Leila what she wished she’d heard as a child.
“I’m sorry for bringing up bad memories — it’s only fair for me to talk about mine then.” Xīlōxōch feels a bit nervous and takes a deep breath. “I have dragon blood, that’s why you see my claws transform sometimes. Outsiders call what we have ‘gifts’, but we know better. I tried to hide it, to suppress it, but I couldn’t. So I had to embrace it — I had to learn how to control it, and I did. Remember this?”
Xīlōxōch holds an electric arc in her fingers and lets the electricity run through her fingertips. “A lightning bolt escaped my body when I was a girl — I got too excited, almost burned the house down. It took years, but I can summon the same lightning bolt when I want to, and only when I want to. The lightning bolt only hits my foes now.” She ends the cantrip and the electricity disappears in an instant.
Xīlōxōch takes a step toward Leila, careful not to get too close. “The truth is, our powers aren’t going away. Accepting this was my first step toward controlling them, and with control came peace. You should try and accept it — I can help you if you need it.” She looks at Leila with a warm smile.
A genuine smile graced Leila’s face, a rare sight in the entirety of today. “I see… Thank you for this.” She took a moment to collect her thoughts.
“Wyverna, there’s more to my powers than just the flames. There are other things I can do… They’re, well, they’re eerie. Maybe I can show you sometime, when we’re alone and somewhere safe. But promise me you won’t tell the others — especially not Nix. I don’t want him to see me differently. My life is already partially a lie, but I want to share this part of me with you if you are willing.”
Leila let out a sigh and kept her voice low. “I should also apologize to him. To Nix… I have been avoiding him ever since. The fire he breathes is a part of him, and I don’t think he would use it for ill will — just as the fire shard isn’t inherently evil.”
Xīlōxōch was surprised to hear there was more to Leila’s powers — eerie powers, no less. She felt a bit of fear and did her best to hide it. And Leila’s life was a lie? She’s more interesting than she appeared. Xīlōxōch lowered her voice and looked behind her to make sure nobody was watching.
“Don’t worry, this stays between us. Talking to Nix is a good idea — he didn’t expect the cold shoulder.” She continued, still softly. “You’re the most cautious Shardbinder out of everyone here. I think you’re most likely to use your shard for good.”
Leila nodded as she heard Xīlōxōch’s reassuring words. She spoke soon after. “Well, Wyverna, can you tell me more about yourself? How did you come to possess this unique blood? I would certainly like to know more. Maybe I could… maybe I could understand myself a bit better as well. Let’s go for a walk nearby — hopefully it will be safe.”
Her hand reached out to grasp Xīlōxōch’s hand, inviting her to hold it so they could walk side by side. Perhaps she felt safer this way after the recent events, or perhaps her trust in Xīlōxōch was growing with every passing minute.
Xīlōxōch is happy with how quickly Leila’s mood changed and grasps her hand softly. “Billy is asleep. We’re safe.” She leads Leila away from everyone and takes a walk in the grove by her side.
“Where do I begin? I grew up on top of a mountain that towered over everything below. We called it the cloud snake — our ancestors built a road that coiled up to the top. We lived with our kind, and only our kind, and life was fine. Little girls had to learn arts and crafts, but not me. I discovered my powers at a young age, that’s when I almost burned down the house. Since then I danced, for that is what I love.”
Xīlōxōch pulls Leila close and leans into her. “And I haven’t had a good dance in a while.” She gently lets Leila go. “But the woods isn’t a place for dancing. As for my dragon blood… No one knows how we got it. It came from an ancestor and the blood’s been passed on from generation to generation. My people don’t know much about it — some say it has a mind of its own.”
“What about you? What’s your story?”
Leila listened intently, her curiosity evident. She spoke softly after Xīlōxōch’s question. “I don’t… really know too much about myself. But I do know that I’m not originally from Keldern… I was uprooted from my original home, and there wasn’t much left of it.” She let out a small laugh, more like disbelief than amusement.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I do remember enough about my childhood. My flames, they burned everything down — things I cared about. And they couldn’t be controlled… Ugh…” A long pause followed.
“Wyverna, I don’t want to dwell on it right now. I’m sorry for this… But I’ve decided I want to show you what I can do, because maybe you can help me contain the flames if I produce them again. Can I trust you with this? With what I’m about to reveal?” She clenched her fist in earnest, staring directly at Xīlōxōch, waiting for her word before proceeding.
Xīlōxōch felt bad for Leila — and for the lie she was holding back. She’s curious as to why Leila doesn’t remember her childhood, but something more important is about to happen. Xīlōxōch places her other hand underneath Leila’s so Leila can feel the warmth coming from her body. With a look of confidence and reassurance on her face, Xīlōxōch says: “You can.”
“Help me put it out before it’s too late!”
Xīlōxōch could not believe what stood before her eyes. For a moment she was frozen in place, her gaze fixed on Leila’s horns. She was distracted and did not notice Leila picking up the sapling — until blackened flames entered her periphery. She’d never seen fire burn this way. It was then that she understood why the fire shard had chosen Leila. Her admiration was cut short as Leila panicked. Conditioned by a week of endless fighting, Xīlōxōch startled and quickly regained her composure. She blasts the sapling with a volley of rays of frost, hoping to put out the fire.
Xīlōxōch panics and immediately follows up with another ray of frost. She doesn’t want Leila to burn.
Leila appeared relieved that the worst was over, but still wore an expression of pain. She immediately reverted to her regular form — the horns shrinking and dissipating, her complexion and eyes returning to normalcy. “Thank you… I thought I was a goner.”
Xīlōxōch runs up to Leila as soon as the fire went out. “Leila!” she whispers. She grabs Leila’s hand to examine the damage — and it looks bad. “Are… are you okay? Does it always burn you?” Xīlōxōch looks at Leila with concern, eager for her to answer.
“I’m… I’m okay,” Leila assured, her voice carrying a hint of relief. “It could have been worse, but I’ll live — thanks to you. Can you help me out? I need to wrap my hand with something. I think… I think we should hide this from the others. They can’t know about anything that happened here.”
She sighed, her expression troubled. “I hope, at least now, you know why I dislike the flames. I do not think this… this shard can protect me from this, nor anyone around me.”
Xīlōxōch is baffled by Leila’s reassurance, and relieved at the same time. She goes through her backpack to find a piece of cloth large enough to cover the wound. Unfortunately, the only thing that fit was her dancing dress — a fine piece of clothing. It pains her to do so, but Xīlōxōch cuts a piece of soft, blue silk from the dress and hands it to Leila.
“Here. If anyone finds out we’ll say it’s the shard. I understand now why you feel this way.” Xīlōxōch reaches for Leila’s unburnt hand and holds it softly as she bends down to look Leila in the eyes. “Your shard is not as powerful as what you just showed me — don’t swear over it, you already have enough on your mind. If you want to talk about your abilities, come to me. I promise it’ll stay between us.”