Page 24 of In Your Light

The thought settled over him as naturally as the dark outside his door. He stared at the doorway, where the last daylight lingered like a promise.

He could not remember the face he’d worn as a god or the form he’d once embodied. But he could remember the exact shade of green in Fyn's eyes when the sun caught them.

That image in his mind, somehow, remained untouched.

And that should have frightened him far more than forgetting who he’d once been. But it didn’t. That tiny seed of hope had taken root in his chest, and despite the darkness inside Hadeom’s heart, the seed had begun to sprout. Perhaps it needed the sunlight Fyn seemed to bring with him.

He heard Cern’s voice again then, not from the river or the wind through the trees, but from his memory, clear as if the old god sat across the table from him.

You are right where you need to be.

Chapter

Seven

FYN

Fyn ran through the forest like he always did. Fast and unapologetic, and for fun. It was his favourite thing in the world to do.

But it felt different this time. Like it was the last time he’d run as who he was right then.

Because he knew once he got back to camp, his life would change. If he stayed or if he left was beside the point. He would be a different man on the other side of his return.

He had the offer of two places to stay. One with Hadeom at the hut, and the other in Tenebrae.

He’d be lying if he said Hadeom’s offer didn’t make him feel... things. His blood ran hot, his insides filled with butterflies, and his face flamed. And that wasn’t even to mention the way his heart danced in his chest.

And Sawyer had reiterated Aurin’s offer of a place in Tenebrae.

Fyn felt so much better knowing he had options. Knowing he wouldn’t be alone. He was a herd animal, after all. He couldn’t deny that part of himself. But he also couldn’t deny his longing for something bigger, something better.

He wanted more from his life. He wanted someone to love.

As he got closer to home and the day dwindled down to night, the ground became more familiar. And as the trees welcomed him back, he was certain it would be the only welcome he’d get. And he wasn’t wrong.

He walked into camp, and the quiet evening chatter died down to silence. Voh and Cyd stopped playing and watched him. Gil stopped stirring the pot where he sat at the fireplace. His gaze met Fyn’s, and he gave a slight shake of his head, as if telling him to turn to leave. But then Zaq came out from behind a hut, his arms full of firewood, and he stopped. Hurt crossed his face in a flash before it was gone, and he continued on his way to the woodpile.

Fyn hadn’t expected Zaq to not understand. His best friend knew how much Fyn wanted to explore the world, to find someone to love.

But then Zoh and Cyd and even Gil all looked to the left, and Fyn knew who it was before he even turned.

Pax.

He stood with his arms crossed, his brow knitted over angry eyes. “My place. Now.”

He turned and stalked off in the direction of his hut, and everyone looked at Fyn in silence. He pulled a funny face and rolled his eyes dramatically in an attempt to make them smile.

He’d always made them smile, but they didn’t this time. And it occurred to Fyn then, that they weren’t on his side.

His smile died as realisation lumped hard and cold in his gut, making his heart feel all kinds of heavy. He turned and followed his brother.

Pax’s home was much the same as everyone else’s. Made of wood and bark, it was one small room with a bed in the corner, the only other furniture an equally small table with stools propped underneath. The only thing that set Pax’s home apart as belonging to their leader was the boundary map on the wall and a crown of King’s Lomatia that hung beneath it.

Pax stood in the middle of the space with his arms crossed and his jaw set. He huffed a long breath out his nose and shook his head, his horns almost shimmering into shape as he wrestled with his anger.

Fyn realised something else in that moment.

He wasn’t going to fight Pax. He wasn’t going to argue, or state his case, or plead for understanding. He was leaving. If he was unsure before, if he’d wondered at all if he should stay, he knew his path now.