Page 25 of In Your Light

“You were told explicitly not to leave,” Pax said. “You defied my order. Blatantly disregarded my authority and made me look weak in front of my herd. My own brother! You’ve always been childish, Fyn. You’ve always thought rules don’t apply to you. Well, this is the last time⁠—”

“Yes, it is,” Fyn said quietly.

Pax glared at him, his eyes searching Fyn’s with barely concealed contempt. “What?”

“I’m leaving. So yeah, this is the last time.”

Pax’s anger bloomed with disbelief and affront. “You’re leaving?”

Fyn nodded and gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. Not forever. But I need to do this. And I think you need me to as well.”

Pax blinked, but his arms stayed crossed and his jaw ticked.

Fyn’s smile was more genuine now because he knew he was doing the right thing. “You’re right,” Fyn added. He wasn’t being condescending; he was being honest. “I get it. I do. You have a job here, keeping the herd safe. I just...” Fyn sighed. “I need something more.”

Pax was quiet but for his huffs of breath, and it was pretty clear that he’d been expecting a fight, or an argument, at least. But Fyn wasn’t going to fight him about this. Not anymore.

“I’ll be gone in the morning,” Fyn said. “You can tell the herd whatever you need to tell them. I don’t mind. I just came back tonight to tell you. And say goodbye, I guess.”

Pax still hadn’t said anything, and he was still mad, obviously. So, silence it was.

“Okay, then,” Fyn said, walking to the door. “I guess I’ll speak to you again before I go.”

“If you leave,” Pax said, his voice cutting like sleet. “You can’t come back.”

Fyn stopped, his hand on the door, his heart in his throat. He had to swallow before he could speak. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Then he walked out.

The forest was quiet as the evening settled into night. The whole camp was quiet, too, everyone choosing to be indoors instead of chatting by the fire, and Fyn hated that he was the reason.

Leaving really was the right thing to do.

He went into his own hut to find everything exactly as he’d left it that morning, and he began packing his few belongings into his rucksack. He didn’t have much because he’d never needed much. Faun, as a rule, lived simple lives.

He’d never much cared for personal possessions. That wasn’t what he was leaving for. He wanted experiences and memories to carry in his heart.

He was shoving the last of his food rations into his rucksack when Zaq slipped in through the door. Like he wasn’t supposed to be there. Like he’d been forbidden from seeing Fyn.

His eyes went from Fyn to the rucksack, and he stopped in his tracks, whatever he’d been about to say forgotten.

“I’m leaving,” Fyn said quietly.

Zaq looked back at the door. “Did he...”

“Kick me out?” Fyn asked. “No. It’s my choice. I came back to say goodbye.”

Zaq’s brows pinched, the hurt in his eyes unmistakable. “Oh.”

“But he probably would have kicked me out if I didn’t beat him to it,” Fyn added. “I take it he was on the warpath today?”

Zaq nodded.

“Sorry about that.”

“You left this morning without telling me.”

“I didn’t want you implicated,” Fyn said. “Because then he’d have blamed you for not stopping me.”