Page 4 of In Your Light

The man before him now was cast in shadows, his pallid skin and the dark circles under his eyes offset by his jet-black hair. His shirt was open at the collar, and he wore only socks on his feet. His eyes were sharp and wary. He’d clearly just woken up and maybe he hadn’t slept well. Or at all, if the weariness that shrouded him was anything to go by.

“I told you my name,” Fyn said. “Is it not customary to return the gesture?”

The man paused for a moment as if considering if he should reply at all. “My name is...” His voice was rough from disuse. He put the kettle back on the stove. “Hadeom.”

“Nice to meet you, Hadeom,” Fyn said.

He spared a glance in Fyn’s general direction and a half nod of acknowledgement.

Perhaps he wasn’t a morning person, Fyn allowed. Or a people person.

“Cern sent you,” Hadeom said, pulling two mugs from a shelf.

“Yes,” Fyn replied. “More or less. The order came from Pax, but at Cern’s request.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Is Pax your superior?”

Fyn snorted, which earned him a quick glare. “Superior implies he is better than me, and I’d argue that on principle alone. Is he my elder? Yes. Is he the spokesperson of my people? More or less. But superior?” Fyn made a face. “No.”

Hadeom stopped mid-pour, the kettle held aloft. “And who exactly are your people?”

Fyn ignored the air of contempt and moved closer to the hearth. The cabin was warmer than outside, though drafts still slipped through a few gaps in the walls. He crouched to add more wood to the fire. “We are Cern’s people,” he replied. He built up a small crisscross of tinder and blew gently at the embers until they caught.

He wouldn’t divulge more information than that, though he got the feeling Hadeom knew the answer already and was testing his honesty.

So, instead, he offered him a smile as he stood to his full height. “You should keep the fire burning. Winters here are cold,” he said. He went to the table and began unpacking the supplies he’d brought with him, explaining them one by one. “Brown bread wrapped in cloth. It keeps it fresh. Smoked trout, carrots, dried beans, a jar of blackberry preserve. My favourite, I’ll have you know. And a small tin of appleberry tea. It’s strong, so you don’t need much, and if you steep it too long, it turns a touch bitter. Oh, and a small pouch of lerps. If you have a sweet tooth, you’ll love these.”

Hadeom studied all the items. “This is... a lot. Are you sure this is for me?”

Fyn bit back a laugh. “Is someone else here with you?”

His dark eyes shot to Fyn’s, his expression affronted. “No.”

Fyn shrugged. “Then it’s for you.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Thank you. I, uh... I wasn’t expecting anything. Do I owe you?” He began to pat down his pockets. “I, uh, shit. I don’t have my wallet.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Fyn said. “You’re acting like no one’s ever brought you anything before.”

Hadeom flinched as though Fyn’s words had found a sore point. As if no, no one had ever brought him anything before.

Oh...

“Oh.” Fyn felt bad. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that.”

His shadows seemed to darken. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t really fine at all. Had no one ever thought to bring him anything? Anything at all? “Well, I’m honoured to be your first,” Fyn said, giving his brightest smile.

Hadeom picked up the lerps. “What are these? Lerps. I’ve never heard of them.”

Fyn took the small pouch and retrieved a lerp on his fingertip. He showed Hadeom the small, white, crystalline nub, then popped it into his mouth. “Nature’s sugar.”

Hadeom took one, inspected it closely, then let it dissolve on his tongue. His dark eyes flashed with happy surprise. “Oh.”

Fyn thought it probably best not to tell him exactly how they were made. “If you want to learn what you can and can’t eat in the forest, I’d be happy to show you.”

He seemed surprised by this also. “Oh, thanks. I, uh, I’m not sure how long I’m staying.” He made a face. “I haven’t really thought that far ahead.” He handed Fyn his mug of tea.