Chapter 21: The Weight of a Name
Chapter 21: The Weight of a Name
~~[1,562 Words]~~
“Wait, you’re serious? You’re really not messing with me? "Aemee's eyes went huge. She stared at Eirhan like he’d just dumped a puzzle in her lap. 'You have another sibling? I thought those two were the end of the line… Your dad’s definitely something. So, where’s this sibling now?'"
“It’s a long story, but here’s the short of it.”
Aemee leaned in, all attention.
“He never got to grow up right. All this time… he’s never even seen what this world looks like.”
“What does that mean?”
Eirhan shut his eyes for a moment.
“He’s inside something called a glass chamber right now. That liquid’s still working on him, and no one knows how long he’ll have to stay there.”
“A Glass Chamber? For how long?”
“What’s the liquid—just water?”
“It’s way more than that,” Eirhan told her. “I don’t know how my father pulled it off. He just said it can cure any illness. That’s exactly why he had to keep it hidden after a while. For everyone’s sake.”
“Then why does your brother… look like that? Is there some other reason? "Aemee pressed, almost pleading.
“There’s just one reason. What’s in him is too strong. Too powerful, even before he was born. Father said not even his soul could hold it in. Without that chamber, it would have ripped his body apart, and there’d be no fixing him, no bringing him back. If it weren’t for that old man, Mother wouldn’t be alive today. And he’s part of the reason Father used up everything he had.”
“That’s… an awful lot for your dad to give up. You, Hernicle, really are different. Who’s your father, anyway? He doesn’t have last name—which is why all of your siblings keep it. Isn’t that odd? Maybe—”
“I can’t say more right now. Since you’re belong with me, I’ll tell you the rest some other time. There’s plenty left for later, Aemee.”
“W-what do you mean by that 'b-belong to me?'”
Eirhan let out a tiny laugh.
“Wait, hang on." Aemee waved both hands, ducking her head, clearly not done. “There’s something else I want to ask.”
Eirhan gave her this sly look.
She noticed—and almost smiled, holding her breath for a moment. But she didn’t back down.
“Well? Are you going to keep going or not?”
Aemee jumped a little.
“Ah—yeah, yeah, of course.” She coughed, trying to reset.
“H-how long has he been in there? ”
Eirhan stood up. “Twenty years.”
“I’m sure Yuren doesn’t know a thing yet. But it won’t be long before—”
The words just stopped.
“We need to move. That kid is still my problem.”
“Here we go again,” Aemee muttered. “Follow and follow, as always.”
“You know, Eirhan” she went on, “I'm like a dog.”
Eirhan smirked. “You're right. You’re the dog; I’m the cat.” He turned away, leading the charge. The resemblance of his father was almost uncanny.
Taken from NovelFire, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
She scowled. “That’s backwards! I should be the cat.”
*******
Yuren woke up to the jolt that he was, in fact, alive—and airborne. He was sprawled out on something slick and warm. Wait, why was it soft? He could feel the wind pummeling him, stinging with every blast.
He forced his eyes open, neck straining up. And then he got it: he was riding the nape of some gigantic, feathered bird, which was screaming in pain.
No time to think. The bird lost it, thrashing in wild flight, furious at its surprise rider. Yuren grabbed handfuls of feathers and hung on, not risking a glance down.
The bird kept thrashing.
Its eyes looked hollow, blind. It had lost itself, desperate to get rid of the weight clinging to its back.
But it kept flying.
All Yuren could do was clamp down and pray he didn't fall—because there was no coming back from that.
He screamed for all he was worth.
They whipped through the deepest parts of the forest—tearing through webs, grass, rocks, rivers, and clearings and even scraping along train tracks latticed with steel. They followed those rails for what felt like ages.
Finally, the Aligoula carrying him began to calm down. The air stilled. Its wingbeats grew smooth, as easy as drifting in an open sky.
The wind sang in Yuren’s ears.
For the first time, he could breathe—actually breathe in that cold, biting air. He felt… good. Like his own heart had settled.
“Thank god,” he sighed, “calmed down at last. Just about killed me. Hey, bird, why are you suddenly so quiet?" He tried peeking around its head, but the bird just stared straight ahead, unblinking. 'Fine, don’t talk. Keep it steady and get me back to your nest, alright?'"
He gave it a gentle pat—at which point it pitched sideways without warning. Yuren just about fell off.
The bird veered off-course, flying straight to who-knows-where. And Yuren felt it: this bird definitely knew where it was going.
Fear wanted to take over, but the wind rushing over him slowly turned that dread into pure excitement. This wasn’t so scary anymore. Actually—he realized—he’d never felt anything like this his whole life.
“This is incredible, almost like flying in a plane, except… even better,” he said, a grin splitting his face. “Feels like I’ve got wings myself.”
This was pure thrill. He doubted anything else would beat it for a long, long time.
“Alright now, let’s go back to the tree. But first, show me the sights,” Yuren called out, not even caring whether the bird understood. This was nuts when he thought about it. “Wish I had wings like yours forever, you know? "But mid-sentence, something in the distance caught his eye—half hidden by clouds and mist, but the shape was unmistakable. Shock hit him all over again.
“Whoa. Another wall. Massive, and even farther off. There’s a whole wall inside this wall? This place just keeps getting bigger. I wonder what’s behind that one.”
The bird banked away, and he never saw it again. But instead of heading home, it kept flying, turning the trip into a proper tour. Yuren stopped trying to explain it—he just leaned into wherever the bird wanted to go. Maybe it wasn’t just any animal. Maybe it just understood more than most.
He still had no clue.
For the next few minutes, everything new and strange about this world kept coming at him—landscapes, colors, shapes he’d never even imagined. It was beautiful. Intense. Something that would stick with him forever. This world’s weirdness and wonder carved itself into his mind.
“God really outdid himself,” he whispered.
*******
Yuren felt the ride looping back at last.
Not much farther—he could spot his bandana hanging off the nest’s edge, bright green in the light. He braced himself, twisting his body and gripping the bird’s feathers, lining up for his landing.
The bird didn’t even flinch; he could’ve been invisible up there.
He got reckless. Decided he’d try something stupid—again—but right then, the bird screeched that same cry as always. Yuren got the message. He let go of its neck and pushed off. Whatever happened now, happened.
Woosshh!
He launched through the air, aiming straight for the nest—maybe twenty or thirty meters out.
Thwack!
He landed right on target, smashing into the nest roof so hard he thought he might’ve snapped something. Half his body stuck through the weave. He just lay there, not moving, knowing he was about spent.
With a grunt, he wrenched himself free. No way was he giving up now. He wiped sweat from his face, shuffled to the edge, and looked down at the bandana.
A glint of sunlight flashed off it, hitting him in the eye. He found it—just a reach away. He couldn’t help but grin as he stretched for it.
Yuren dropped flat and reached, arm out as far as he could get. The bandana was so close, nothing could stop him now.
He sucked in a shaky breath and kept reaching, refusing to let anything get between him and that bandana.
He was completely focused… too focused to notice anything else.
And behind him, something massive crept closer, moving slow and silent as a shadow.
An Aligoula, eyes locked on him, hungry.
A couple heartbeats went by.
He finally clutched the green bandana. Victory.
He jumped to his feet, grinning like an idiot.
No clue that he was next on the menu.
Any moment, a huge beak would slice him up, ripping right through his skin.
Thud. Thud. Thud—
He felt it. Thank god something in him noticed.
He spun around, and all the blood drained from his face. He tripped, stumbling backwards, landing hard, still holding the bandana. But those eyes—pure murder—never left him. He couldn’t move. He was shaking head to toe. It was like every drop of sweat turned cold at once, crawling down his back, mixing with all the dirt stuck to his skin. He just kept inching away, over and over.
Until—
Something massive crashed into the forest, violent and fast, the force blasting through the clearing.
The Aligoula froze, staring at the sky. It made a sound—quiet, hopeless, like it knew the world was about to end.
Yuren stared upward too, breathless.
Balls of fire.