Frozen Dream

Lysandra’s hands cramped. She stopped polishing the bracelet to inspect her work. It shone against the sunlight. The resin curing emphasized the L&R—a fresh seal on the once grainy wood.

It was barely three days since he left. No word.

She lost track of the daylight. When she glanced at the window, clouds followed the sun as it stretched towards the horizon. Thin streaks of white tore through the sky, and grass bowed to the whimsical demands of the wind.

A house would look nice in the distance. It could sit at the base of the hill and face the same horizon. A few bird feeders could be roped around the surrounding woodland, and they could chip away at any pests wandering through their wheatfield. Even one that looked like this one would be fine, with only a kitchen and a table to eat at. After all, it was the company that mattered.

A knock stole away her daydream.

The door swung open, almost hitting her before she had a chance to answer it.

“Taking your time.” Her brother, Lyam, towered over her. He was only four years older, but his worn demeanor made it seem like a decade. “You look disappointed.”

“I’m not, I missed you.” She went in for a hug.

“Alright now, sis.” He held back the hug by pushing against her forehead. “Where’s mum and dad?”

“I think they went over to get some more flour.”

He carried a large ruck on his back. An external wooden frame kept it stable and unshifting as he moved. He limped around; there was a wooden brace around his leg. After he dropped his ruck near the entrance, his eyes settled on some bread on the counter.

“How was it?” Lysandra needed a story to pass the time.

“Oh man, it was great. Easy job, just escorted some troops. Hurt my ankle rucking.” Her brother tore off the end of the piece of bread.

“That’s not bad.”

“And I met this Sylwean woman, man, I need to take a job at Haford. She smelled so good. And the mead at Gryfalcon’s Perch is just magnificent.” He started to munch on the bread. “So good.” A moan slipped out of his lips.

“Wait, Gryfalcon’s Perch… That’s at Dunmouth?”

“Uhyah.” He confirmed, finishing down a bite.

“Did you see Rex? He should be back by now.”

He ate another piece of bread, “Actually, I did.” He swallowed down a piece. “Saw that Steelbrite mark. Thought you were gonna take it this year.”

He went to take another bite, but Lysandra swiped it from him before he bit down.

“Then where is he?” Lysandra fought back panicked tears.

At first, her brother was more irritated at the bread his sister was slowly crushing, and then he remembered. His expression turned solemn, and he took a deep breath.

“…Lys…”

“… No”

“There’s this cave, about 10 miles west of Dunm—”

“No—”

“None of the Steelbrites came back.”

“No, Please.”

“I’m sorry—”

He was cut off by Lysandra’s tormented screaming. A wave of grief stole away any strength she had. All of her senses started to wash away. She would’ve allowed herself to fall to the ground, but her brother leapt from his chair to catch her. Her vision went dark, as her eyes were flooded by the stream of tears. She didn’t even realize she was still screaming until it was muffled by her brother’s embrace. He held her close.

Lysandra’s voice rasped. “Weren’t you there?”

“Sorry?”

“Why didn’t you do anything?” She said.

“I wasn’t—”

She pushed her brother away, and stood up. Her fingers curled until her nails dug into her palm. “Weren’t you there?” She said again.

“No, I left before his missio-”

“Why didn’t you stop him?” She pointed at Lyam, and jabbed him with her finger. “You knew— you knew he wouldn’t make it! Why didn’t you do anything to stop him?”

“I tried.” He shrugged.

“You didn’t.” She poked again.

“Touch me again.”

“What— you’re going to stop me? Like you stopped Rex?” Another poke.

This time Lyam caught her finger, but she wrapped her hand around his wrist. She wedged her thumb in his hold and twisted his hand away.

Lyam threatened her with a pierced stare. She stared back—red cracks crept across the whites in her eyes. He ripped his hand away from her grip. His gaze detached. “You should know how it is by now.” He shrugged again. “You don’t get to choose who stays or who—”

“How can you be like—”

“Like what?”

“Just content.” Her voice settled. “You knew him too, you grew up with him. You know how I feel abou-”

“So? You think he’s the first person to die? No—he’s the first person you care about who died.”

“Is that why you don’t care?”

“I never said that.”

Lysandra sat at the kitchen table and picked up her finished bracelet. It trembled in her hold. “It’s not fair.”

“Lys.” Lyam took a seat across from her. “It’s the fairest thing I know.”

“Is that his sword?” Her chin gestured towards his bag.

“No, it’s from my contract. Another Steelbrite that didn’t make it back.”

Lysandra brushed her fingers across her bracelet. “Who killed Rex?”

“Neoreus thinks that the Prince of Durl—” He stopped.

Lysandra’s head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. She picked herself out of the chair and walked to the ruck.

“What’re you doing?”

She replied by pulling the sword out.

“No— you shouldn’t.” Lyam shook his head.

“Durley?” She asked, “that’s what you were going to say?”

“Don’t do it.”

“You going to stop me?”

She didn’t wait for his response. The door shut, leaving Lyam alone at the family kitchen table.