Ravaged Bonds Chapter 5: The Folded Letter

"Dreams hold no revenue for those who had their spirits shattered more than once."

–Arnaud, the Wandering Prophet of Lemuria

The morning bells chimed in all their splendour, waking Avvie once more from her sleep and inducing a prolonged groan from her throat. The brightness of the room pained her red, exposed eyes, and she snapped them shut before propping herself up.

"I'm coming, I'm coming . . ." she yawned groggily, shaking her head as if to rattle the sleep from her ears.

Begrudgingly, she stepped out of bed and stretched out her limbs, not at all desirous to start the day, especially after spending most of the night awake fretting about something. She could not remember exactly what it was, but with a shrug from her bony shoulders she dismissed it for a later time.

Gliding over to the dresser, something met her eyes on atop it that assuredly was not there last night, and she tilted her head sleepily in befuddlement. It was a small piece of paper, folded down the middle and lying facedown on the wooden surface with her hairbrush on top. Still lethargic, her mind wondered who had entered her room so late at night and for what reason. The door was locked, so the only way to get in was through the—

Her eyes snapped open and flew over to the window, expecting to find it closed and instead finding the opposite. A soft breeze blew through the open space, toying with the milky curtains and tossing them up and down, and the morning sun poured fresh sunbeams onto the pine floor.

How did someone come in without her noticing, and why did that same someone put a note on her dresser? There was only one way to find out, she concluded, as she stepped over, flipped the note right-side-up, and read its contents:

"Sis,

"I don't know what your father has told you, but I am sure that he thinks of me as a killer of friends. I am writing to you because I wish to tell you, and only you, that he may be right.

"I said something that made Isha upset, and when she ran into the forest somebody murdered her in cold blood. I was with her before all of this mess happened, but I never meant for any of this to happen! I only wanted what was best for each of us, and now it is all gone. She is gone, and there is nothing that I can do to make things go back to the way things were.

"However, just because I can't do that be doesn't excuse me from laying out justice on the murderer. I will explain what I mean, but not here. Not on this note.

"Please come outside. I will be by the maple where you showed me that buttermoth you loved so much when we were little.

—Wolfe"

Avdotya sat on the edge of her bed, having completed her pace around the room as she reading the letter. She glanced over it several more times before rocketing to her feet and slipping into some more modest clothing. If Wolfe was planning on doing something drastic, she was going to stop him as soon as possible.

Av rushed through the door, much to her parents' consternation when she passed by without a glance or a word. She didn't even step into her shoes in her hurry, instead running barefoot down the wooden planks of the covered porch and onto the smooth, wet grass that had not yet dried in the morning heat.

With a whirl around the far corner of the north wing, she entered the old orchard grove where her father and she sparred with training blades frequently. It was a quiet place, free from the consternation of lumberjacks that headed out into the forest with oxen-led wagons or the meaningless chatter between tourists and their guides. Only the occasional chirp of a pair of songbirds reached her ears, whistling their merry tune in the tree boughs after having feasted on a berry breakfast.

In the distance she saw Wolfe, in the open area where the maple was, the place somewhat similar to where they always picked dove-tail lilies together. The tree's dead, crunchy leaves blew uselessly in the warm breeze, clinging to the gnarled boughs and wasted twigs that had stood the test of time, but they at least offered a decent enough shade for summer days such as this one. For an instant she could recall the times when she was little, each one of them a different adventure altogether. It was in the grove that she had first met him, that they played together until they moved on to different locations. She was surprised that he wanted to meet out here again, after the several years that had passed by.

His back was facing her, and his head was arced downward as if he were staring at something in decision. Her heart gave a slight leap, immediately jumping to the conclusion that he had a knife in his hands and was pondering the most drastic action she could think of. Biting her lip, she ran towards him with all of her might, calling out his name fearfully.

He turned his head first before the rest of his body followed suit, and Avvie's eyes immediately darted to his hands. She sighed in partial relief as she spotted nothing in particular in them, but when she met his gaze she knew that Wolfe was hiding something.

"Oh, hey, Av. I didn't expect you to get out here so soon," he uttered, his voice so low that she could hardly make it out over the persistent songbird which piped its merry tune nearby.

"You mean you didn't expect me to jump clean out of my skin and get out here so soon, right?" she countered as she stopped a few paces away, her eyebrows furrowed deep into her forehead. "You made me worry, Wolfe!"

"Worry . . . ?" His voice was irritatingly emotionless, and she almost let all of her rage out.

"This letter?" she bellowed, taking out the crumpled note that she put in her blouse pocket and shoving it in his face. "You said that you were the killer and that you would 'lay out justice' on Isha's murderer. Well, I'm not going to let you do that. I'm—I'm not going to let you kill yourself!"

"I never intended to do so in the first place, Sis," he spoke, passively removing the letter from between them. "I probably would have ended it without you knowing if I did."

His words came as a shock to her, so much so that she left the scrap of paper in Wolfe's fingers and scanned his countenance for insight. Everything told her that he was telling the truth about his statement; his nostrils did not flare, his eyes did not cease to blink, and the tips of his ears, jutting out from his unkempt and matted hair, did not burn red.

"I-idiot! So you have thought about it! I should—"

"Would you please stop trying to accuse me and listen to what I have to say?" Wolfe inquired, his voice surprisingly calm and collected compared to hers.

She blinked in bemusement before emitting a shrug. He laughed a single, wan note in response and continued.

"Thanks, Av. Anyway, what I was going to tell you . . . was this: I can't stand aside and do nothing. Everyone here thinks that I was the one that stuck the knives in her throat—everyone—but I swear that I didn't do it. I brought her back to the Sanctum. I heard her give her . . . her final words to me. I stayed by her side all that time before she . . . she . . ."

Avdotya stared on helplessly as Wolfe broke down, tears building in his eyes as he without a doubt recalled yesterday's events. She had been told by her father that she was forbidden to come in contact with him and that Wolfe was a hardened and murderous criminal, but she knew better. She knew that he was neither of the two last night when her father told her of Wolfe's "murderous intent", but if that was so why did she think he would kill himself?

Before she could come up with an answer she swept her arms around him and hugged him tightly, disregarding everything her father had said. She was surprised that her body reacted without her telling it to, and yet she was glad of it.

Wolfe calmed himself down after a while, his sobs getting lighter and lighter as time flew by. When he reached up to gather the moisture in his eyes, she let go and watched sombrely to his side.

"T-thanks, Sis . . ." he uttered with a sniffle, smiling wanly over to her before glancing away.

"Hey, what are big sisters for?" she responded with a warm smile of her own that dropped off soon after. "Listen, Wolfe, that's twice you said that you were going to do something. What are you planning?"

A frown shifted his features when he stared at her disconcertingly.

"You really haven't figured it out yet? Or is it that you don't really want to know?"

Avvie's eyes narrowed into pinpricks.

"Y-you can't mean that you're going to kill . . . !" She could not finish her statement, but she did not have to. When she saw his eyes dart downward she knew that he indeed meant it. She did not readily admit it. Her brother never had the desire to hurt anyone previously other than in play, not even her father when he said the most repulsive things to her adoptive brother. Something changed inside of him, and that left her shocked and terrified. "Wolfe . . . please tell me that this isn't true, that none of this is true. I . . . I need to hear you say it," she pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Av . . . I just can't. Isha is dead, and her murderer is still out there. I made up my mind, and I intend to follow it until that monster dies by these hands of mine."

"But you don't have a weapon! No sword, no shield, nothing!"

"I may not have one of those things or . . . proficient enough to use them, but I do have something I could use."

She watched bemusedly as he stepped back a few paces and halted a fair distance away, a hand outstretched with each digit facing inward. The very air shifted as a refreshing gust of wind fluttered over and around them, and the low chant in Wolfe's voice could be heard through the soft whispers of the passing air. The sensation was soft, almost healing, but that was hardly comforting her in the slightest.

"You . . . you're an Adept . . ." she squeaked, shuffling away and nearly falling over herself.

He nodded in response and released whatever ability he had used earlier with a casual wave of his hand.

"How long . . . ? How long have you kept this a secret from me?"

With a mild frown, Wolfe responded: "Just a few short months. I wanted to tell you for a while now, but I didn't know how you would handle it."

It took effort for Av to nod. Adepts were not the most popular people on the Isles ever since Mercury pirates had taken over the village. History lessons had told her of their villainies, but when Palmaria accepted aid from the cursed Northern clans to remove the pirates the Isles had learned of a harsher master. Most of the archipelago dwellers resented Adepts of any kind and passed on their odium to their children. When she thought about it, Isha was lucky to avoid the popular scourge, but she could not piece together how. Also, if Wolfe was found out to be an Adept by just anyone, there was no telling what would happen.

Silently, she accepted why it took him so long to tell her, though there was only one question rattling in her head, one that she voiced: "But why did you tell me now . . . ?"

"Why now?" repeated Wolfe along with a dry laugh. "Well, I just thought that I could trust you with anything now. Was I wrong to?"

"O-of course not! I'm happy to hear that you trust me, but it's just so . . . unexpected. I mean, my brother the Adept."

Wolfe smiled in a way that she felt she had not seen in ages before it disappeared into his melancholic and sober self again. It was painful for her to see him in such a state, and yet she could not figure out what to do or say to him to snap him out of it. She thought that maybe time would do him some good, but that was impossible. He was set on killing the one responsible for all his pain, and somehow, deep in the recesses of her mind, she felt the same way. If it would bring her old brother back, she too would probably run the villain through if she had the chance.

"Wolfe, do you mind if I stay with you for a bit?" she spoke up after a brief yet unnerving silence. "I . . . we don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to, but if you do. . . ." She finished the sentence with a false shrug of indifference for whichever choice he made, though it was obvious which she wanted to do so.

His eyes closed for a short lapse of time, almost as if he were concentrating on something else entirely at that moment, before he nodded.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind your company, but I should warn you that I'm going to test myself in the meantime. It's scary to see the first time, or at least it was for me."

"I'm sure I could handle it," she spoke, giving him a slug on his shoulder. I'm hardy, same as you."

He smiled again and offered her a seat on the grass, which she gladly took until she noticed it was still wet. Her face must have been priceless to induce a laugh from him, but he sat down as well several paces away.

"This is what I meant to show you. Granted, I have not perfected it yet, but here it is."

Avdotya tilted her head as he held gripped his forearm with his other and held it outstretched once more. A swirl of motion arrested her attention as a churning cone of wind lay just above his hand, getting larger and larger as his muscles tensed. From top to tail the Whirlwind was about the size of a fully grown man, and the air around her hummed powerfully.

Just as soon as her mind got accustomed to its presence the miniature tornado disbanded, the strong wisps dissipating into nothingness. Wolfe exhaled a lungful of air and smiled, the faint sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

"Incredible . . ." she uttered under her breath, unable to say anything else. She had seen magic like this before in the Festival of Gales the town had every few years, but smaller and more contained. Though it was impressive back then, it was more so coming from her kid brother.

"You like it then, huh?" Wolfe laughed, scratching his ear as if he were nervous. "If I'm still new at this, I wonder how incredible it will be when I master it."

"Well, I hope not too incredible," she teased. "I don't want my little brother getting better just to get a swollen head."

He laughed at this as well, and they talked with each other for many minutes, trading questions and answers at an increasingly leisurely pace. Though the guilt of his friend dying still gnawed at him, he came further and further out of his shell, and that bought them both waves of relief; however, she realised such relief would not bring peace for long, and she edged herself on to question something that took most of her will to utter: "Wolfe, I need to ask . . . is revenge really the only thing to do?"

His control slipped on the tiny whirlwind in his hand as his concentration was broken, and the swirling air dissipated when he darted his eyes up to her.

"Of course it is," he spoke, his tone dwindling from contented to irate. "I can't let him get away with this."

"But you could be killed in the process . . . I don't want you to die, not when you have a life ahead of you."

"That's the thing, Av; I don't have a life ahead of me. Maurus made that clear enough when he looked at me. He believes me to be the one who thrust the knife in Isha! He said he would have executed me on the spot if it weren't for you, and when you are married off and gone, I'm sure I would suffer an 'accident' or be executed on the chop block." He smiled vehemently when he saw her face twist, but it only lasted for a fraction of a moment before he was fully serious again. "No, I need to find this evil man and bring justice to him. It's the only way for Isha to be at peace!"

She winced at each and every word, chiefly at the vehemence when he thrust out her father's name. Wolfe never called him that until now, so what changed within him? Was it that he had been consumed by revenge, or did something worse happen to him? Her hands clamped down hard on her knees at the thought before shutting it out for another.

"Is this all truly for Isha to be at peace or yourself, brother . . . ?" she queried sagaciously, keeping her voice as steady as possible.

He laughed without humour, speaking: "Would it be wrong to say it's both? She needs to be avenged, and I want her to be happy, wherever she is now. Even if I cross all of Weyard and back to do so, I will find him, kill him, and finally get on with my life. It's that simple."

She nodded hesitantly and summoned the courage to look down. Wolfe had changed. Her grip on her exposed knees waned, leaving red marks where her nails had clamped into her skin when she removed her hands, but she did not care. She knew what to say.

"Then let me aid you."

Their amber eyes met in striking difference, hers soft and his hard, yet in her brother's shifting gaze she noticed uncertainty and fear.

"You don't believe what I am saying, Wolfe?" she continued, leaning forward and pressing her hands into the grass for support. "I truly mean it."

He shook his head morosely.

"Avvie, do you even have the strength to kill somebody? You've the manners of a noblewoman. All those warnings you told me about from—"

"My father has shed so much blood I don't think he believes those warnings himself," she countered, shaking her head. "All I really want is for you to continue being my brother, though the best and worst of occasions . . . and if nothing else would work, I'll do even that!"

He looked at her for a time, not a noise forming between them until the songbird chipped overhead and broke the dreadful silence. He rubbed his eyes with a thumb and index before he ascended to his feet. She followed him upright.

"I never wanted to involve you in this, Av. To tell you, yes, but not have you involved in anything dangerous. However . . . I'd never turn down whatever help someone is willing to offer, especially my sister."

Her heart soared up to her throat, and she ran across the distance to pull Wolfe into a tight bear hug. Perhaps it was a bit too tight, considering that he inhaled sharply after it was done. She grinned sheepishly as a result.

"So what now? What's your course of action?" she asked.

He made a face and responded, "Um, I'm not quite sure yet."

"Wolfe!"

"Hey, I didn't have that much time to plan," he replied defensively.

"Well then, how much do you have to build off from? Any evidence?"

"Just a few unmarked knives . . ." he replied with a mild shrug. "The place where it happened is burnt to a crisp too. Nothing strange there besides the lava vent and streams of new rock."

"That's it? Not much to step off from. . . ."

"That's part of the reason why I am bettering my magic," agreed Wolfe with a single nod. "I heard some people that can move wind like me could read minds, but . . . I don't think it's possible for me yet. I've tried so hard at times just to read the minds of animals, my head felt like it could split in two."

"Promise me you won't overexert yourself like that anymore!" she urged, concern awash over her features. "You'd fall apart by the seams if you keep doing that!"

"Easy now, Sis," he chuckled, "I built up a tolerance to it. Stress brings out the best in me, sometimes. Guess how I learned these two spells I showed you."

"Well . . . I hope you'll figure something out in time," she spoke heavily with an added sigh, glancing back at the stone walls of the manor in the distance. "Our parents are probably wondering where we are, don't you think? It's well past breakfast too, now that I think about it. You're not hungry or anything, are you?"

"I'm fine, Av . . . really. Just stop worrying for me, all right?"

"Sure . . . but I'm going to get you something when I get back. I don't think you've eaten since yesterday morning, after all. How could you live without food that long?" She stared at him harshly for a few seconds, but when he appeared to stare off into the distance and did not answer she shook her head. "So you'll be around here, yeah?" she continued, speaking louder this time.

"Huh? Oh, sure, I'll be around," he answered as if startled. "Also, if anyone asks, tell them that my chores were done."

She nodded and turned back toward the house, walking off with a false mien of composure. These recent revelations brought a sense of fear for her younger brother that she had never had before and generated a duality that ravaged her; part of her wished to remain ignorant of everything that was going on, and the other desired to keep aware.

"Wolfe . . . I wonder what is going in that head of yours," she whispered as if to herself, risking a glance back before revolving a second time around the house.

She returned an few hours later when the sun was near its zenith, and the only ways to escape the midday heat were to be under the slivers of shade of trees and buildings or having the infrequent, scanty sea cloud pass overhead, granting a sparse few seconds of alleviation before the light rebuilt itself to its former glory.

Av felt the urge to wipe the sweat from her brow more than once along the way, but managed to resist, if only for the tray carrying with a ceramic cup of ice water and a serving of eggplant parmesan on a porcelain plate. It was definitely one of the hottest days yet in the summer, and still climbing higher up the thermometer. She wondered how Wolfe was taking the heat, having stayed in the grove, but she knew he would find a way to keep out of the most of it.

True to her expectations, he was in the same location performing something with his wind magic, though she was surprised to see how much effort he was putting into something neither could see. He had turned a deep shade of red, his eyes were fixed shut, and the muscles in his arms, even from the distance, were so tense that they looked like appendages of a statue. The very air that whirled around him felt thick and unsettling, and the moment she stepped closer it reminded her of the inside of a furnace. Was it raw rage she felt? Guilt? She could not say, but she stepped in front of him anyway.

"Wolfe . . . I brought you something," she uttered, though hardly loud enough to hear herself over the wind.

The wind ceased, along with its inner tension, as he opened his eyes and relieved his muscles, though only barely. A tiny flicker of a tired smile emerged as he glanced down at her hands and took in their contents.

"Oh, thanks, Avvie," he spoke with the twang of happiness, though his voice remained nearly as solemn as it used to be. "You didn't have to do this for me, you know. . . ."

"Of course I do," she responded, "but we both know full well how you take care of yourself. Now come on, drink up. You look exhausted."

The smile grew longer at the thought, but he shrugged and gently pushed the tray away when she proffered it.

"I'll get to it later, I promise. I'm on the verge of figuring something out; I could feel it! If I could just . . ."

He fell and nearly spilled the contents of the tray as exhaustion brought him to his knees. His breath was laboured and fast-paced.

"B-brother!" she sputtered frantically, roughly placing the tray onto the ground and stooping to brace him upright. "Enough of this foolishness! You're tearing yourself apart!"

"Just one more . . . I feel it in my bones, Av."

"You'll be nothing but bones if you keep this up!" she shouted at him, grabbing the cup of water and holding it in front of him. "Here, drink this! I'm not playing around anymore, Wolfe, and neither should you!"

She had to press the cup against his lips before he consented to her command, raising a hand to tilt the earthenware and sipping the cool water. Avdotya watched him down half of the draught before she turned it back upright when he started to choke, probably from drinking too fast. Taking it away, she swiveled her index finger around the cup, gathered the condensation on the outer surface, and placed it on his forehead.

"You are the most stubborn mule of a person I ever met, you know that?" she chided. "It only takes a near-death experience to get the least bit of sense into you. My gosh, you're burning up. . . ."

He laughed harshly as he cleared the water from his throat.

"Hey, I'm me. I know myself best of all," he uttered in a wry undertone, tossing a loose grin before relapsing into a frown. "Um, thanks, Av . . . but—"

"Save it." She removed her finger and scowled. "I don't want to argue with you anymore. Continue with your stupid training if you wish, but understand that if you pass out or die in this heat I'll never forgive you!"

As much as she wished to pour its contents on his face, she placed the cup back onto the tray and walked off, empty-handed except for the angry thoughts that swirled inside her like a swarm of hornets. Did Wolfe even now not see that she, the older sister, wanted to protect him, and that it pained her to see him behave like this? Was he so blind and stupid and—?

"Sister . . ." she heard behind her, and she whirled around.

"What is it, Wolfe?" she snapped, the full concentration of her glare bearing down on him.

His eyes dropped to the ground as he straightened upright, and it took a few seconds for him to form an answer.

"I'm sorry . . . I didn't know you felt so hotly about this."

"Wolfe, we've been close for so long. How could you not see that there are people that care for your safety, that I care for your safety?"

Tears came bitterly and burned her eyes as she walked off in a huff, and behind her she heard nothing but perfect silence. No songbird called out in this heat, nor did she hear the nearby stream gurgle, nor did her brother call out to stop her further, and that silence hurt her more than any injury she recalled.

Author's Note: To those of you who haven't played the third installment of the Golden Sun series, Wolfe used the Fresh Breeze and Whirlwind Psynergies, if it wasn't clear enough. Anyway, thank you for reading, and I hope you stick around for my upcoming sixth chapter. Ciao!