In Memory of Innocence

**SPOILER ALERT** This is part of a scene from a story-in-progress and contains information that reveals important plot points. Read at your own discretion.

---

Aryn opened his eyes and looked around. The last thing he could recall was lying in the cave waiting for Kyri to return with the herbs. Yet now he was in a strange place surrounded by pearly mist. Even the ground beneath him was made of mist.

"Am I dead?" he wondered allowed, his voice echoing in the mist.

"No, you're not dead."

Aryn jerked upright and cast around for the speaker. About twenty paces away, a man stood in the mist. Aryn blinked and rubbed his eyes, certain that he hadn't been there a moment ago.

"Don't be afraid," the man said. "This is a safe place."

His voice was strange. He looked around thirty, slender of build with blond hair and dark eyes. He wore a simple tunic of dark blue over black pants. Yet something about his voice reminded Aryn of a child.

"If I'm not dead," Aryn said, "then what is this place?"

The man frowned in thought. "It is...the place in between. There and not there."

"What does that mean?"

Once again, the stranger frowned. "I suppose it means that you're not dead, but you are dying. You are close enough to the edge now that I can speak to you."

"And...who are you?" Aryn asked, though he suspected he already knew. The silvery tint in his blond hair, the near pitch blackness of his eyes...

"Haven't you guessed, Aryn?"

Aryn glanced that the man's slightly oblong ears, exactly like his own. "Are you...my brother?"

The man smiled. "Yes, I am. I'm glad you recognized me."

Aryn stared at him in wonder and confusion. How could his brother, who'd died in the womb years before he was born, be talking to him now? Sure, those with nelfyn blood like his father could supposedly speak to the dead, but that didn't explain how he was seeing a fully-grown man in place of an unborn babe. "How...how is this possible?"

His brother shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not really sure. I don't know how I've continued to grow. Maybe it's something about this place."

"I still don't know what this place is," he said.

"Does it really matter?" his brother asked. "I'm here. You're here. We can finally talk now."

Aryn frowned. "Talk about what?"

"Our father."

"Our father?" Aryn asked. "What about him?"

His brother gave him a sad smile. "About what happened when you were born, and the price he paid to bring you back from the dead."

Submitted for Day 22 of Inktober 2019