The storm finally subsided two long hours later. By then, night had fallen, and Unda was too weary to even stand, much continue walking to the next scroll piece—one Foliis informed him that Aurum's threads had found deep in the moors on the outskirts of Calistie's woods. Far, far away from their camp outside the human village's remains.

Despite Stellae's protests, they had agreed to bed down for the night and allow Unda the chance to rest. He hated that he was halting their progress again, but there was little to be done. Now that the jitters of adrenaline had worn off, his head was beginning to ache and swim all over again, and his very bones were sapped of energy. Even his reserves of magic had run dry.

He dozed against Foliis's shoulder until he was awoken in the dark by Ignis, offering him the leg of whatever beast she had caught and roasted. It was dry and tasteless, nothing like the carefully prepared food they were served in the temple, but it filled and warmed him all the same.

He must have dozed off again because the next time he awoke, his head was resting against Aurum's lap, and he was draped in his brother's heavy black cloak. A little ways away, Foliis and Ignis were tucked together at the edge of their camp in a clearing of trees, sleeping beneath a shared blanket woven with golden threads of Aurum's magic. Even Stellae, sitting against a spindly birch, was asleep, his chin tucked against his chest.

In front of Aurum, a small fire blazed, hissing and spitting sparks into the air. Its weak light washed his face in an amber glow, enhancing the dark circles beneath his weary eyes and the lines in his face when he looked down and smiled dimly. His hand, which had been resting atop Unda's head, lifted. "How do you feel?"

"Better." Unda sat up slowly, touching the place where his hair was matted with blood. It was clean now—Foliis's handiwork, he guessed, as he thought she had been stroking and washing it while he drifted in and out of sleep. It didn't hurt anymore either, and the hazy pain was finally gone, allowing him to breathe deeper. The cut on his chin had also vanished.

"I owe you an apology," Aurum murmured, and he bowed his head to press his fingers to his temples. "I was stubborn and refused you the opportunity to help when you were right—you probably would have made a better negotiator. And had I brought you with me, maybe then the elf wouldn't have stolen you away."

Unda tightened his jaw and looked away. He twisted the end of his scarf, its azure fabric tainted brown from lying in the dirt. "It's not all your fault. I didn't listen when you told me to stay put. I didn't keep my ears covered. I argued with you." He sighed, burying his face in his hands. "Everyone's right. I should have stayed behind. I'm not cut out to leave the temple, and I'm only delaying you."

"It's a punishment, Unda, not an urgent mission." Aurum snorted. "A punishment you imposed yourself on, I might add."

"It's not just that anymore!" Unda snapped, raising his voice as he jerked his gaze up to meet Aurum's. Cold though it was, anger surged through him, dragging frost to the tips of his fingers again and turning them white like his knuckles. "That elf was Vivian, the very same I saw in the pool. If she was hunting the scroll pieces, then finding the unicorn is more important than Selini made it seem."

Aurum's expression remained the same, his lips pressed into a firm, thin line and his brows knitted slightly. Shakily, Unda turned to face the fire instead as whispers of Aurum's secret conversation with the golden goddess crept up from the recesses of his memory. It is not a dangerous task unless you make it so, she had said. Do not make it so, Aurum.

He lowered his voice. "You already knew, didn't you?"

Silence stretched between them, wriggling beneath Unda's skin until he couldn't stop twisting and stretching the end of his scarf. If he prodded Aurum, would he snap?

Finally, Aurum released a heavy sigh and combed his fingers through his matted hair, pushing it back from his face. "I told the goddess that you were too soft to leave the temple, that you wouldn't be able to do what needs to be done."

Out of the corner of Unda's eye, the ends of his sandy curls darkened, mirroring the sharp twist in his gut. "Then you—"

"But..." Aurum held up a hand, and Unda clamped his mouth shut. "I don't wish to demean you. It is not wrong to have a kind heart, Unda, and I depend on your ability to see, to feel, and to reason differently than me. However, you must learn to guard yourself. There are times when a hard heart is required, and if you cannot harden your own, you must trust me to make the right decision in your stead."

Unda swallowed hard, his insides cold and twisted as his magic began to leak again. His fingertips ached with frost as he curled them against his palms. "I didn't spare her only out of kindness," he whispered, fighting to bury his shame before it became too clear in his face. "The symbol on her back—the crest of the bear—I have memories of it. And I don't understand them. I know it sounds foolish, but I thought if I spared her, if I saw her again someday, she would be willing to answer my questions." He looked away and plucked at the grass beneath him, pulling his knees against his chest. "But the generals will find her and have her killed."

Aurum shifted. "I'm sure they will bring her in for questioning first. She might have information we could use." When Unda met his eye, he was beaming again, a smile as bright and golden as the sun. "When we return, you can ask her your questions."

"Are you certain?" Unda asked. Uncertainty wormed its way through him, eating away at everything in its path and leaving behind a cold trail. When he had been in the throne room to scry, the generals had agreed to kill Vivian and all her followers on sight. There would be no mercy if they got ahold of her, and there would certainly be no time for Unda's questions.

But Aurum ruffled Unda's hair and laughed slightly. "Of course," he said. "You'll get your answers. I'm certain the goddess wouldn't want you to be bothered by your missing past."

"Then why has she not told me anything? Why has she kept me in that little cage?"

"Unda, the temple isn't a cage—"

"Not for you. Not for Stellae, or Foliis, or Ignis." He swallowed thickly, forcing down the bile that rose in his throat. His head was still swimming with exhaustion. With fear now clouding the waters too, the air had begun thick and difficult to breathe, as if he were in a cage all over again. "I don't know anything truly. I'm never given the chance to learn. I am only allowed to watch through a window as the world falls apart in the distance. I couldn't even lie believably to Vivian because I don't know anything—I haven't truly seen anything!"

When Aurum didn't reply, the crackle of the fire filled the silence until it was stifling. Unda buried his face in his knees as the painful urge to cry arose. He pressed his lips into a thin line in an attempt to stop them from quivering. "I wasn't able to prove anything," he murmured, keeping his voice low to avoid the shake in it—or perhaps to avoid the chance that anyone other than Aurum might hear. "Except that Stellae was right. I should have stayed behind. I'm a liability to you, to the others. Ignis got hurt because of me."

Again, all Aurum did was laugh, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees. "Everything worked out in the end. We got Vivian's scroll pieces and, more importantly, you've ensured her capture and defeat. Plus, we've got her sword." He gestured with the sweep of his arm to where it lay bound in cloth with Foliis's gear, still glowing blue but now with a more subdued hum. "She won't be as much of a threat without that, and you were able to convince her to tell you its secrets. That's a skill, and I regret not allowing you to use it on the human man."

"If I hadn't come..." He stopped himself, unable to get the words out of his throat, lodged as they were. The stench of death in the air sharpened, and a cold finger traced down the length of his spine. With a shudder, he added in a whisper, "You wouldn't have killed them all."

Aurum didn't laugh that time, much less try to explain himself which only solidified how cruel he had truly been. There was no reason for the slaughter of the town. A systematic search would have been enough, or a mere questioning of the human man and people who knew him—or asking around about the elf woman who masqueraded among the people. Anything but violence.

The monster in the face of his brother was there still, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. It lurked at the edges of his golden scales, swallowing the light in its darkness. In anger and desperation, Aurum hadn't cared who he hurt, and that was a terrifying thing.

His throat seized, tight with the urge to cry, and his eyes watered. Gritting his teeth, he raked his hands through his hair and curled in on himself. How many more will die if I stay outside my cage?

"Tenirel..." Aurum shifted and prodded the fire with a long stick. It roared as it licked up new kindling. "I don't care that it didn't all go smoothly. I won't let anyone stop us from seeing this mission through to the end. Please stop assuming you're not useful here. I've already told you—I need you."

Unda refused to look at him. He kept his eyes tightly shut and held his knees tighter against himself. "Why?"

Wood snapped beneath the heat of the flames, the scent of smoke drifting through the air along with its warmth. The magic in Unda's chest stirred and raced to the front of his body, where the heat was strongest. In an effort to protect him from it, a thin layer of cold air formed like a shield in front of him. He shivered but made no complaint. Sometimes it was best to let his magic act as it saw fit. Especially when letting it eke out was the only thing keeping him from spiraling.

Finally, Aurum released a sigh, and his arm slid around Unda's shoulders before pulling him into a sideways embrace, squeezing him against Aurum's side. "I depend on you. You're my light. You're the reason I keep fighting. I don't care what the goddess meant for you to do or what she wants to prove to me, I wouldn't make it through this long and boring task if you weren't here to keep me sane."

Unda wiped his face. A small smile curled his lips. "How did you make it through every other mission before this one?"

"It was difficult." With one last pat to Unda's shoulder, he extracted from the embrace and stood. The shadows shifted, falling over his face in place of where the warm light of the fire had been. Unlike usual, his scales didn't shine gold in the dark. Rather they seemed to blend in with it, absorbing the shadows in a way that Unda had only seen in Stellae's black scales. When he stepped into the moonlight, Unda faltered.

"Ahkirel," he breathed, his fingers trembling. "Your scales."

Bewildered, Aurum traced a hand over his face. Recognition and weariness swirled in his eyes, which were underlined by dark circles. "I suppose I've been using a lot of magic lately."

Sucking in a deep breath, Unda reached out and grabbed hold of Aurum's wrist. The gold threads appeared in his vision, all wound around Aurum's fingers, squeezing so tightly they left indentions in his skin. Unda summoned a sharp tip of ice on his index finger, dragging it across the threads. They snapped easily, and he could only assume it was because Aurum had allowed them to.

Unda sat back, still shaky. The darkness shifted among Aurum's scales like a living creature, squirming at the edges of the light. It couldn't have only been weariness, and all he could see was the fearsome creature his brother had become when he came to rescue him from Vivian. Darkness that ached with the presence of the veticaabe, the hidden arts.

Swallowing hard, he forced his worries down. No, he trusted Aurum. It was too soon to jump to conclusions. "Even you have a limit, and you're nearly there," he whispered instead.

A smile curled at the corners of Aurum's lips. Briefly, his face twisted with pain, but it vanished quickly. Gold broke through the blackened look of exhaustion in his scales, shining in the moonlight with the same brilliance Unda had always remembered. The gentle smile broadened into a wide grin as Aurum turned to face him fully once more, all gold and with none of the whispers of darkness clinging to him.

"I'm not there yet." His tone was lighthearted, but it was underlined by fear. "I have a long way to go before I reach my limit."

Frustration clawed at Unda's throat, dragging the ends of his sandy hair in a deep, angry blue. Cold burned in his scales as he curled his fingers in. His nails dug into his palms, but the sting was numbed by the ice. The sight of the black scales sent a shiver down his spine, a sense of wrongness hovering at the back of his mind. More frustrating was how quick Aurum was to dismiss it.

"It's not my place to give you orders," he started, forcing his voice to remain level and calm even as Aurum's piercing gaze turned to him. "But I ask that you refrain from using your magic for several days. Let yourself rest and recover. You're going to let your life bleed away through your fingers with the way you're expending your power now."

Aurum nodded, slow and wide-eyed. Then he ruffled Unda's hair again. "This is why I need you."

Unda heaved a sigh as the tension and frustration ebbed away, taking with it the cold that had formed around him. He slumped against the grass, staring up at the canopy of leaves overhead. When he exhaled, his breath clouded in front of his face, but it was the last remnant of his outburst. He pressed his hands to his temples as his head began to throb again. "I should be taking my own advice."

Aurum sat beside him again, one leg bent at the knee as he draped his arm across it. "I would like to rest," he said. "Believe me, I would." He rubbed the back of his neck, tilting his head so that his gaze landed on the fire at their feet. His eyes slid closed as he inhaled deeply through his nose. "But I can't. I have to take responsibility for you and the others. I have to take care of you all." With a quick exhale through his nose, he dragged his fingers through his unruly black hair. "I don't want to see anyone else drop from exhaustion, so I'll do it for you."

His words itched, slithering across Unda's mind with such confidence that he almost recoiled. Yet they weren't entirely unfounded, and that was what made them so terrible. He hated that he could always see Aurum's words mirrored in his actions. He hated that he could see it in every promise Aurum had made. He hated that it was why Aurum sought power and clung to magic—because he felt he was the only one who could uphold his family.

But Unda steeled himself and pushed upright, grabbing a fistful of Aurum's cloak so that his brother was forced to look at him. He stamped out the prickle of doubt, the whisper of disappointment, the hum of agitated, frigid magic inside him. "I'm going to support you, ahkirel. You don't have to bleed yourself dry for us; I'll make sure of it. I'll become someone you can truly depend on."

Slowly, Aurum's face began to soften and his shoulders slumped, tension fleeing his stiff form. He tilted his head toward Unda, and his grin was lopsided this time. "I know you will always be by my side. You're my tenirel, after all. Just between us though, you're my favorite sibling." He finished with a wink before dissolving into laughter again.

His smile grew, as did the warmth in his chest that chased away the bitter cold of his anxiety. "It's no secret. Everyone in Anticuus knows."

"Keeping secrets has never been my strong suit." Stretching his arms up, Aurum flopped onto his back. His eyes began to droop, though from the way he kept flinging them open again it was clear that he was fighting to stay awake.

Unda sighed. "Why don't you try to get some rest? I can keep watch."

The only reply he got was a grunt and a muffled thank you as sleep already claimed Aurum. It wasn't long after his eyes closed before his breathing evened out and he fell still. Unda adjusted his cloak to cover him before turning to face the fire again and pulling his knees to his chest. Alone, the sounds of night—the howl of the wind, the twitter of bugs, the shriek of owls—made him tense. It was always so quiet in the temple. So far away, everything had a voice, and nothing bowed to the goddess.

He stared into the fire until the heat made his eyes ache and water. Vivian. The bear crest. Both rang like a discordant bell in his mind. Hazy memories dragged themselves forward. Incoherent pieces, scenes, and voices. Blood all over him. A woman in fine robes. A bear chasing him through the forest. The scent of death in the air.

Tears welled in his eyes, though he couldn't piece together what he was crying for. Like wading through a fog, the memories were always just out of reach. Even the magic in his chest didn't stir in response to them. He couldn't remember, but the more he forgot, the more he craved.

If Vivian was killed, if she knew something, would he lose his chance to fill the aching hole? Or did the goddess know where he had been before the temple? Did she know what he was missing? And if she knew, would she ever tell him the truth?

The spiral of questions unfolded and unraveled until he was lost within it. There were too many pieces to make sense of, and nothing fit together to paint a complete image. The more he tried, the more his stomach sank with unease. Why was Vivian chasing the unicorn, and why did Selini not wish for it to fall into the hands of the elves?

Across the camp, the sword hummed again, its faint blue light drawing his eye. It whispered death and power, and he shuddered before burying his face in his knees and pushing down his budding anger. There wasn't time to dwell on what was missing within him, only what was missing from their given mission. He had made a new promise to Aurum, to watch over him and prevent him from losing himself to exhaustion or whatever else may be lurking within him.

He was a Head Dragonborn first and foremost. His duty was to his family and the goddess, then to himself.

~<>~