Willow stood alone in a sea of flame.
Crimson embers drifted like snow. The sky was on fire. The air tasted like ash and soot.
"What is this?" Willow asked.
A voice, ancient and warm, echoed from everywhere and nowhere.
"Child of fire. Child of grief. You seek rebirth. My trial will determine its worth."
Willow's boots touched the scorched ground. All around him were charred ruins, a cathedral consumed in flames.
He stepped forward, eyes narrowing.
"Pfft, so this is some test, then bring it on."
A shape formed ahead, slowly at first; two figures standing at the heart of the flame.
One was his twin sister: Sylvia.
Her icy blue hair blew in the smoke. Light blue eyes filled with tears.
The other: Rhenvar.
Not in armor. Just Rhenvar, as he was during peaceful festivals. He was in his red elven tunic and black cloak. His eyes met Willow's.
They were both silent. Waiting.
Then the voice returned:
"One is a memory. One is a promise. You may take only one with you. The other will burn."
Willow froze. "…What?"
The sky darkened. Sylvia stepped forward.
"Willow," she whispered; her voice caught with emotion. "You know what you have to do. I'm gone. He's still alive."
Rhenvar said nothing. His gaze didn't plea. He simply saw him. Utterly. Fully. The way no one else ever had.
Willow shook his head.
"No. No, this isn't fair."
"Choose."
He turned to Sylvia.
Tears welled up in his red eyes. "You died because of me."
"You lived," she said. "And you're still living. But he… isn't." She looked past him, to Rhenvar. "Not fully."
"I… miss you."
"I know little brother." She laughed. "I've always known your heart, Willow. You were always in pain. That pain was silenced the day we met Rhen."
Willow took a step toward her.
"But your heart has always been full of fire, full of joy, full of love."
He took another step toward Sylvia, just one. But his heart did not follow. It stayed behind. With the man who still walked this world, cracked and cruel and beautiful.
"But Willow, your love for me. It's real. But your love for Rhen, it's special."
"Your eyes are like rubies drenched in fresh blood." Willow muttered, remembering Rhenvar's words.
He stopped.
Sylvia smiled softly. "You already chose, didn't you?"
Willow's shoulders shook. His breath broke.
And then.
He turned around.
He ran to Rhenvar.
He fell into him, arms wrapping around his waist, face buried in his chest.
"I'm sorry," he choked. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"
Behind him, Sylvia smiled.
"Don't be. You're no longer home. You no longer have to hold it back. Father, mother, Rowan, the stupid customs, our people, they are not here anymore."
Sylvia gave him one last smile. "Willow, I'll always be with you."
The fire rose.
Her body dissolved into ash.
Willow turned too late. The wind took her.
"NO!"
The ground collapsed. The sky burned white.
Then.
Silence.
Willow sat in the ashes, holding nothing, alone.
Hands to his face.
He whispered, "I just listened to my heart, why does my heart burn everything..."
The world was gray now. Dim and hollow.
But then, a spark.
Before him rose a radiant bird with flames of gold, sapphire, emerald and ruby.
A Phoenix.
Its wings lit the world anew. Its eyes burned with eternal mourning and eternal love.
"But you chose not with logic… but with love." The radiant bird's words felt like a warm breeze.
"Your soul is heavy, yet whole."
"You have failed your trial."
"Yet I shall grant you not my spirit bond… but a gift."
The phoenix opened its wings and from the feathers, a relic descended.
A feathered amulet of flame and gold.
"This is the necklace of Returning. To be worn by one who loves enough to burn away the past. But also, the one who will burn an eternal path to a brighter future."
Willow reached out with trembling hands and caught it.
He felt its warmth, it did not burn.
It healed.
"All fires leave ashes. But in those ashes, love will always burn and rise again."
The phoenix began to fade, leaving behind only the firelight.
Willow stood, eyes wet.
He did not smile. But his heart… glowed.
And as he walked back through the ashes, Sylvia's name burned quietly on his lips.
The guilt in his heart still burned. In time, it too would turn to ash.