Chapter Text
Prologue:
"Can you see any fish in there?" My Father asked, his voice rough and deep with a Scottish lilt.
My keen eyes scanned the water's surface, itching to find any movement or glint of a fish beneath. Sometimes, if I was very still, I could catch the fragmented rays of sun shimmering off a fish scale as a small one flicked past too quickly for me to see and nestled itself safely behind a rock. Today was no different as I scanned. I was already defeated; we had been doing this for years, and I'd never managed to catch a fish myself, and I barely managed to see one.
Across the water, I made eye contact with my Father. Looking into his eyes was like staring into a mirror, the same forest green shimmering with the reflection of the water underneath them. He gave me a mischievous grin, and I prepared myself for what I knew would happen next. His large hands were calloused and covered in dirt and moss. He plunged them into the water, and the dirt and moss obscured my view for a moment. Before it could clear, his hands were coming back out of the water, and cupped within them was a large goldfish, fat and shimmering bright orange. It flopped pathetically against his palms as he held it up just long enough for me to wow and marvel at it like I did every time it happened. I was sure it was the same fish every time, and my young mind created a narrative where my Father was a fish whisperer - that's why the same fish always came to him because he could talk to it.
Suddenly, the orange of the fish turned into fire, and the fire spread up my Fathers' arms and to his body until it engulfed everything, and I could feel its hot heat against my skin even though it wasn't touching me. A single blink and we were back in our old country house. I could hear a woman's frantic screams and the crying of a toddler. I turned left and ran, sprinting as fast as I could to the kitchen, skidding to a halt in the doorway, just like I always did when I had this dream, and there crouching underneath an untouched bench, surrounded by flames, was my Mother, her dark red hair unbound and tumbling down her shoulders, the fire made it seem even redder. The only thing I had inherited from her. In her arms was my brother, his eyes wide and ice blue just like our Mothers. They begged me to help from across the room without having to use any words, and I took one step into the room before I was swept up in heavy arms and dragged away from the fire and dumped out of the house and onto the cool grass outside.
My Father towered in the doorway, his eyes filled with fear; the emotion didn't suit him.
"You don't come back in, love, do you hear me?" His voice was gruff but strained and when I opened my mouth to protest he spoke before me, "Run" He breathed the command, "Run far away from here and don't come back, no matter what, you promise me that" His eyes were churning with so many emotions I couldn't process, but his face was filled with frantic madness. It terrified me.
My cheeks were wet. I was crying, "But what about you and-"
"Frey, love, you have to leave now" He swallowed thickly, "We will find you, I promise" His voice was firm, but his eyes betrayed the lie behind his words.
And so, because my Father had never lied to me and because he looked so unlike I had ever seen him, I stood up and I ran and ran and ran as far away as I could, knowing I would never see him again.