"You don't have to do that, sister." I was playing with her braids when she said that, using her shoulder as a prop to get a better view of the dagger in my hand.
"Oh yes I do. I'll be fine," she replied.
My sister, Brynn, was always so brave. Sometimes though, I felt like I had all the strength in the world. She was an only child, whereas my brother and I were an only doublet. We had always shared a close bond, with many times as many quiet moments like this one.
Brynn was my only sibling, and therefore magic came easy to me. She had the talent of tinkering stuff with the simplest devices, and the patience to craft anything from junk. She was good with herbs and plants, each one of them with its own strange properties, but she had no talent for magic—at least not yet. By comparison though, I had very little in the realm of herbs and plants at my disposal. I could burn one or two, but that was all. To my frustration, my talent had become solely in the trapping of demons, which wasn't entirely practical when I was expected to be a Fighter. Perhaps it was time to change careers before our clan started pushing Brynn into becoming one.
I sighed, and taking up the mantle of responsibility. She was the firstborn. It was my duty to ensure she became the strongest warrior possible. I could feel the dagger glancing off of the rock wall ahead of it, and she drew back, laughing. Brynn had been standing on the side of the rock, holding the dagger, just testing her weight to see if her balance was right.
"I said don't, Brynn," I replied.
"You always say that," she said, laughing.
We were deep in the densest part of the forest we could stand. We stood at the entrance to the ruins of an abandoned temple, part of our clan's ancestral home. The ruins had once been a holy place, once upon a time—but that was a long time ago, and a lot of things from then were beyond understanding—just as far in the past as the great wall itself. I could only guess that we weren't the first ones to explore this place, but there wasn't any way of knowing for sure. We hoped to find some kind of clue, some sign to tell us that our siblings weren't the only ones that had ever ventured out of the village. Reluctantly, I sheathed my dagger, still remembering the look on my sister's face that day.
"We're supposed to be finding them. I never said we wouldn't have fun while we're out here," said Brynn.
"We'd better. Daddy would be furious if his first born died out here, and you're supposed to be the strongest by far." I couldn't help but smirk as I spoke. If my brother, Cole, were there I would be smiling too. He was the youngest and so didn't understand why he had to follow our father or what the consequences were for failing to please him.
"Do you think it could get that bad?" She brushed off my comment with a playful push to my shoulder.
"Well, it is an irritant to have such a weakling as a sibling. We have better odds of dying out here than winning the war." I caught the glimpse of her smile just before the laughter took over again, and the smile came back.
Our mother, Tovara, had asked her husband what he would do if one of his children died here, in the ruins of our ancestral home, amongst the trees and the fauna. Our father had replied, in perfect seriousness that no matter what happened, he would honor them, and remember them for a soldier, a fighter. I could almost feel the seriousness in that statement. The last thing our mother needed to imagine was her son as a dead soldier.
Being of the Fighter class, my father had raised all three of us in the ways of being a true warrior. In this, I was third best, but that was still pretty good for being a Hunter. Shame on me for not being a Fighter, but my parents felt the need to start training me early, so that I would be ready to take on the role if it come to it. With Brynn, I knew I would never have to worry about it. She was made for it, that was for sure.
The magic that I wielded came from two colors, yellow and green, and they were the colors of our old home. The yellow was the father's magic, marked with the power to trap demons, and its mate was the mother's, marked with the power to heal. I had never seen a mother do magic, but I was beginning to understand now why. I had been told on occasion that I was a strong child, but growing up as an only child with an only daughter made me doubt my own strength. Now though, I could attest that my sister was not only eminently strong, but also the fastest of all of us.
I was visiting the ruins with one of my clan brothers, Ryland. He was a strong fighter and had many times stood by my side in my more recent traps. I wasn't as quick or as fast as Brynn, but I hoped I would be able to change that. On my left arm I wore a bracer, made of thick, black leather that would help me to defend James. It was embossed in the same colors as my magic. On my chest I wore a very similar bracer to protect my front. It was embossed with the same colors as Brynn's magic. A sword hung on my left side, and a single dagger on my right for bear in mind. In the back of my mind though, I had to wonder whether or not I would ever actually have to use them. They had been stored at home, and I hoped that they would stay there.
"You say that as if it's an insult, but our talents aren't the same thing," Brynn said, casting the dagger across its head.
Ryland intercepted it and chuckled, giving a small chuckle of which I was glad to hear. All the other boys had a tendency to laugh at her jokes, but Ryland wasn't one of them. He was a fighter, a powerful one. He had stuck with me when I got trapped in the nest of tombs and needed to rescue some of my brethren, and I was grateful for his assistance. I would do anything for that guy.
"So what is it then? Is she a hunter? She's not. She's better than that. It would almost kind of be a shame if she were to make it back alive, don't you think?" He stepped closer and whispered the last part. I tensed up, a bit more than I should have. I could even feel the blade against my throat. He's only teasing though, I thought. Brynn couldn't hear it, but I knew she was watching us intently.