"I''m the reason."


    My words hang in the air like a malignant odor; like a stench that might never go away no matter how long you air out the house.


    Mother''s lips thin as Asva''s eyes widen, a gasp leaping free of her mouth. Eric''s brows curl up, concern and worry flashing in equal measure as his fingers tense and untense in quick succession. Salgrun is silent, the odd expression he''s been wearing remains the same as he flickers between thoughts faster than I can or care to follow.


    Only Solrun seems almost pensive, an impression that''s soon validated as her voice fills the room.


    "What in particular about you?" Solrun asks, sweeping across the room and swiftly closing in around me. "Rarely is a single person in their entirety the cause of such strife."


    "I..." I suck in a deep breath as tears brew at my eyes. This is it, the moment I''ve been dreading; this is where I will have to give up on my dreams, isn''t it? No amount of courage or pride could keep the shaking from my voice, "I, I keep putting myself in danger, keep wielding weapons and acting the man. That''s why Dad''s like this. It''s my fau–"


    "No," a voice grabs ahold of my very soul, "it is not your fault."


    Solrun lifts a brow as she steps aside, revealing the frown carved on Mother''s face.


    "M-Mother?" I manage to get out through body-wracking shivers. Long legs carry her close as she pulls me in for a hug. Her arms wrap around me as I grab handfuls of her dress, my tears drying on her clothes.


    "The only one at fault is the man who could not accept the truth," Mother—Mom—says softly as she combs fingers through my hair, "the one who so vehemently refused to face the facts that it tore his soul to shreds. Your father, I love him," she sighs fondly, "but he is a stubborn hound. He loves you, he really does, but that love blinds him to who you are, of the woman, no, the warrior you will one day be."


    "Dad thought it was me who slew the wolf," Eric speaks up, a hand idly covering his long-healed stomach, "and gave Halla her sax when he found out it was her. But he said that he was going to give it to her for Yule before that, so maybe it isn''t Halla doing warrior''s work that has him in this state?"


    "Yeah!" Asva adds, "Dad said that it was a good thing that Halla killed that Outlaw, too! So it can''t be that." Eric blinks, brows lifting in surprise. He opens his mouth to ask a question only to think better of it, his teeth clicking closed.


    A tiny smile creases my lips as I bury my face in Mom''s dress. Thank you, Eric and Asva, really, for trying to take the load from my shoulders, but the truth must be faced one way or another.


    "The actions of a conflicted man," Solrun says, certainty in her words, "one who trusts what his eyes see yet holds in his heart that which is no longer true."


    I swallow, extricating myself from Mom''s embrace, and release a long-held breath, "If I... If I stop this, if I stop..." I take a deep breath, "If I stop pursuing the path of the warrior, will Dad get better?"


    "Will his condition improve? Certainly," Solrun tilts her head to the side, a certain sly shine in her eye, "Will he ''be better''? Absolutely not. The potential vulnerability will remain and this could, and perhaps will, happen again."


    "Then how do we fix it?" Mom asks, returning to an upright state.


    "By showing Steinarr, once and for all, that warrior''s blood runs through his little girl''s veins. Her aftermath is not enough, he must see her work in person."


    Silence falls as we consider what that means, what it would entail. How would we even begin down that path? For us to show Dad how much of a warrior I am, we''d have to find foes, right? That would mean either travelling with Dad in his current condition or making enemies of our neighbors, neither of which are especially good options.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    "Fortunately," Solrun smiles, "the magic that lets an eyeless soul see is only a few steps away from the magic that lets one witness the past."


    An eyeless soul? As in, something like my ja–


    "Halla, if you could collect your thrall, please." Solrun answers the question before I''d even had a chance to think it.


    "Thrall?" Mom tilts her head to the side. I don''t bother explaining, it''ll be easier when they can see him for themselves.


    A few minutes later, my jar is on the table and the story unfolds for all to hear.


    "I do not squeak," my jar grumbles, annoyed by some of the more colorful descriptors I may or may not have utilized in this retelling.


    "And you are certain that he is the same outlaw that you killed with Stigandr and Abjorn?" Mom asks, her arms crossed.


    I nod, "Positive. Tell her, jar."


    "I don''t wanna."


    "Do it!"


    "No!"


    "Do it or I''ll put you in the latrine!"


    "You wouldn''t."


    "I would."


    "Then do it already! You won''t get my eyes if they''re full of shit!"


    Shit, he''s right.


    Mom watches the byplay with no small amount of amusement in her eyes, "I will take your word for it, then."


    "Regardless of the jar''s identity," Solrun says, her eyes glowing with bright blue power, "the magic that allows him to see and experience the world around him will also allow us to peer into said experiences."


    "Will... Will this hurt?" The jar asks as fading sparks of power drift in the air.


    "Depends on how well the spell was made."


    "That doesn''t answer my ques–" The jar''s voice vanishes as the Seeress lifts her hands. Fingers splay wide as threads of bright blue ordstirr snake through the air and wrap themselves around the jar''s surface. Power pulses as magic makes ready, the jar''s mouth glowing with intense light.


    Images, pictures, and scattered memories emerge from the Jar''s maw, drifting through the air like feathers on the wind.


    "It will take some time to sift through the mess," Solrun says as she begins her work, "modifying another caster''s spell is never a smooth process."


    With that in mind, we settle in and wait.


    <hr>


    Sax cleaves, fire burns, and a redheaded warrior laughs as she slays her foes. A wild, frenzied grin stretches across her face as she dances with sax and shield in hand. Blood spills from open wounds, yet nothing seems to so much as slow her down as she drives her shield through the head of a foe.


    She welcomes the bite of pain, impaling herself on a spear to clap its master''s head between her hands. Flame surges, exploding out from inside the spear-wielder''s head and showering her in a spray of sizzling blood, bones, and brain.


    She cares not as she draws her power reserves to their utter limits. Twin arcs of crimson flame snap out like whip cracks, splitting the bow-wielder in thirds as she claims victory on this day.


    Surrounded by family and with lip and limb bound by magic, Dad can do nothing but watch me lay waste to my enemies. He watches me slay each outlaw one-by-one; he watches me wield weapons with deadly skill and cast hungry flames at my foes.


    When all is said and done and the spell keeping his mouth shut finally falls away, a single whispered question is all that leaves his lips.


    "I... How did you learn to heal and harm with your Aspects?" His eyes fall on me, honest confusion in his gaze. "I taught you to stoke them, but not how to wield them properly."


    I answer his confusion with my own ample supply, "I... I don''t know," I can really only shrug at his words, "It just made sense, I never really thought about why I knew that it would."


    "A natural talent," Solrun picks that moment to add her voice to the mix, "just like her namesake."


    "I can see that now," Dad says as he sighs, eyes leaving the hearth-flame and returning to me, "Halla, my daughter... I owe you an apology." He takes a deep breath and begins, "I kept my knowledge from you, I taught you only the most basic of battle-truths hoping that it would keep you from pursuing the heights of power. I see now how wrong I was."


    "Halla, I am so sorry."


    I swallow the lump in my throat and choke back tears as I rush to embrace my healed father.


    Finally, finally this ordeal is over.