Ember: Echoes of Ashes - Book 1

by Jessica Schmidt

  “And the other sensible creatures learned then, as well, to never use the fae as leverage in war, because the death of the forest was not worth a victory.” Emery’s eyes looked glazed as she concluded her story, deep in thought.

  They walked in silence for a moment. Laderic had only read that story before and had never heard it told from a fae perspective, and somehow, hearing it from the fairy woman herself was much more inspiring. He had never considered the ecological importance of the fairy people like that. He and Midiga shared silent glances, sharing the same thoughts.

  “So… can you use any magic right now?” asked Alleria, insatiable curiosity still not put to rest.

  Emery shrugged, dragonfly wings constantly buzzing as she floated along. “Of course! Let’s see, what can I show you… I can heal both plants and animals alike. Um…” she said, thinking. “Oh! I can do this!”

  She paused midflight, turning to the woods, and landing on her bare feet. Alleria paused as well, Reia watching from her arms. Emery stood on the ground, holding her hands in front of her with her palms up, closing her eyes in concentration. Laderic and Midiga watched as well, intrigued.

  The tree in front of Emery began to tremble, and then it bent over, extending a branch to the ground. “Thanks!” Emery said, stepping onto the branch. The tree then straightened back up, carrying Emery instantly to its highest boughs. Alleria bounced on her heels with excitement.

  “That was so cool!” she said, smiling ear to ear. Midiga was smiling as well, but Laderic was unimpressed. Emery jumped down, gliding to the forest floor.

  “Pretty good, I guess,” she said, breathing harder than normal. Alleria nodded, as they picked up the pace once more. “It’s a bit harder on me before summer officially begins, but I’ve still got it!”

  Laderic could hardly keep from rolling his eyes, completely unimpressed by the fae’s ‘skills.’ He was more interested in what she could do in her own season. “So, can you do anything better, like, during the summer?” he asked.

  Emery shrugged. “I can use my magic all year round, just not to its full extent. Some things tire me out more than others when it isn’t summertime. All fae possess some variation of nature magic,” she said. Her eyes shone with pride for her people. “We are born to our parents in groups of quadruplets. From each mother comes a wintertime, springtime, autumnal, and summertime fae. And all of our powers vary by season!”

  Laderic nodded, having heard of the four kinds of fairies, but not knowing that they were born as quadruplets like that. “But what can you do?” he asked again, pointedly.

  “Oh, I can make things grow faster, control the movements of plants—as I just demonstrated. Hmm… I can heal wounds in both animals and plants...” She stopped. “That’s mostly all,” she concluded.

  “So… basically nothing,” Laderic said, prodding. Midiga elbowed him, hard, and shot him a look. He looked back at her, smiling unapologetically.

  Emery spun around, getting in his face again. The anger pouring from her eyes seemed to burn into his, but Laderic stood firm, unblinking. “Just wait,” she growled, jabbing her tiny finger into his chest. “Summer starts in a couple nights. We’ll see if it’s ‘basically nothing’ then.”

  Laderic held up his hands. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to insult you!” he said.

  “Then what were you trying to do?” asked Midiga, raising a furry eyebrow. He blinked back and forth between them before shrugging once again.

  “I’m just stating a fact,” he said, still not understanding. Emery’s tiny body quivered with anger, and she quickly spun around, flying faster than usual. Alleria and the others had to step up their pace to keep up with her.

  Midiga glared at Laderic. “What?” he whispered, confused.

  “You come off so… rude sometimes,” she hissed, annoyed. She shook her head in disbelief. “Can you at least try not to be such an ass to our guide? We’re lucky she’s still helping us at all!”

  “Fine,” he muttered, convinced that everyone was just overreacting. They continued to walk, mostly in silence, for the rest of the afternoon.

  They made camp a few hours later after the sun had set for the evening. Laderic had a tent, but he didn’t pitch it that night, as there was no sign of rain. Instead, he took out his pack, laying it on the ground in front of him. Emery glared at him as he prepped his sleeping area. She scowled, turning and flying up to the top of a tree and staying there, preferring to sleep in the comfort of the trees anyway.

  Midiga sighed, glancing at Laderic. She caught his eye, and he looked back, confused. Midiga jerked her head toward the tree, narrowing her eyes. He stared back, blankly, having completely missed Emery make her exit. Midiga shook her head, getting back to her bed—a single black blanket that she spread on the ground.

  “Found firewood!” crowed Alleria, skipping out of the woods with an armful. She set it down in front of them, kneeling and setting right into building a small fire. Laderic looked on, genuinely impressed. The elf must have learned a few things about camping after having traveled alone for so long. In just minutes, she had built a makeshift fire. Reia trotted up to the wood and breathed a small flame into its core. Then, she stared at the minuscule flame, concentrating. After a moment, the flames built themselves up until it was nice and toasty in their campsite.

  Pleased with her work, Alleria sat back on her heels, smiling to herself. After a brief indulgent moment of admiration for the fire, she looked around. “Where’s Emery?” she asked, not seeing the green fairy’s glow anywhere.

  Laderic looked just as confused, noticing for the first time that she wasn’t with them. “Yeah, where did she go?”

  Midiga turned her head toward him slowly. Her gaze was filled with fire, a flame Laderic shrank from. She jerked her head toward the top of the tree once more, and something finally clicked in Laderic’s mind.

  “Oh,” he said, looking above them. He could barely make out the faint, green glow that was Emery high above them in the boughs of a tree. “Oops.”

  “Yeah, oops,” hissed Midiga, chastising him as a mother might her child that had been mean to their sibling. “You better apologize tomorrow,” she said, serious.

  “Fine!” he said, admitting defeat and throwing his hands up. “I was a jerk. I’ll tell her tomorrow.” Midiga nodded, satisfied, and turned back to her things. She pulled out a small book with a plain, black leather cover, and started reading, sitting cross-legged on her blanket. Soon, a low purr began to rumble in her chest

  Alleria sat next to Laderic, gazing into the firelight, the flames seeming to dance in her golden eyes. In her mind, she recapped the last few days. She already felt more positive and secure about her situation, glad to have finally found some kind people who were truly on her side. She glanced up, checking to find Emery, but she was unable to pick out the fairy’s glow as Laderic had. So, feeling confident no one was watching her, she reached up and removed her hood, feeling the cool air on her pointed ears.

  Laderic, realizing he had been staring, forced himself to look away, unwilling to admit to himself his infatuation with her. He had heard of the unmatchable beauty of the elves, but he had always believed himself stronger than his own emotions. He had met Mavark’s wife—Ysmira—once before, yet did not find her nearly as captivating as Alleria. Then again, that could have been because, at the time, they were covered in the blood of a band of felid thieves that mistakenly thought they could sneak up on them. Ysmira’s own hood had fallen off during the fight, forcing Mavark to decide that day if he could trust Laderic with their secret. It was because of this that Laderic knew he could trust Mavark with anything.

  “Are you okay?” asked Alleria, concerned. Laderic looked over. She was sitting just a couple feet away from him. She had her knees pulled to her chest, staring at him, eyebrows pulled together with concern. Reia had curled beside her, sleeping. Alleria’s eyes were captivating, gold and wide.

  “I’m fine,” he said, forcing himself to tear away from her gaze on
ce more. The fire was low, casting a deep orange glow over the campsite. It flickered as a breeze passed by. The night was warm, and they were lucky to have a dry night for camping.

  Alleria looked back at the fire, not quite believing him, but letting it go nonetheless. He didn’t look like he wanted to talk. She absentmindedly stroked Reia, watching the flames lick the firewood as they died down bit by bit. A wolf howled in the distance, and instantly, she tensed up. Reia sat up, startled, ears laid back. Alleria’s hand was on her dagger in a split second, eyes wide with fear. She sat perfectly still, listening for anything coming through the brush.

  Laderic watched her curiously. “It’s just a regular wolf,” he said, experience allowing him to tell the difference between the call of a canid and the call of an animal. “You can relax.”

  Alleria slowly removed her hand from her weapon. Her palm was glowing with faint white light. Midiga, who normally prided herself on being level-headed, had her ears pinned back against her skull in fear, gripping the book in her hands much too tightly. The encounter with the canidae just days before had really gotten to her, and she didn’t like it.

  “I’m going for a walk,” she said gruffly, standing and stalking into the pitch-black woods. Laderic wasn’t too worried. He knew she could see just as easily as if it were daylight. He instead shifted his attention to Alleria, specifically her hands, which were still glowing.

  “Tell me more about your magic,” he said, curious. If he was going to teach her how to use it, especially as someone who couldn’t use magic himself, he needed to have as much information as possible from her. In the back of his mind, a whisper said he was stupid for thinking he would be able to help her at all, but before he could become discouraged, he stuffed that voice back down where it came from. He watched Alleria as he leaned forward, listening intently.

  Alleria stared down at her hands. “It only happens when I’m really scared… or really angry,” she looked at her hands as the light slowly began to fade away, “and, usually, it just blows up and hurts people.”

  “That’s not always a bad thing,” Laderic remarked. She looked up at him, and he continued. “Fire-dancer spectrals can only use damaging magic, and they’re regarded as the most fearsome of all spectral magi.”

  “I guess,” she muttered, looking down once more. Reia was awake now, and she stood to pace around the fire.

  “If I met one of those fire-dancer spectrals, do you think they could help me with my magic?” Reia asked. She looked at the flames, concentrating. Once again, the fire began to burn brighter and taller.

  Laderic shrugged. “Yeah, probably. It just depends on if your magic works differently because you’re a kitsune and not a spectral. spectrals aren’t human… but they aren’t animals either. They’re somewhere in between a mortal creature and the very element they control.” At this, he stretched his arms up over his head, flexing obviously. He smirked. “But they’re nothing special. I could take ‘em easy.”

  “Oh, really?” Alleria asked, amused by his cocky attitude. She smiled up at him, consciously keeping herself from looking at his arm muscles.

  Laderic nodded, more to himself than to her. “Easy,” he repeated. His mind flashed briefly to the spectral stone buried in his enchanted pack. He cleared his throat—and his mind—and looked back down at Alleria’s hands. “Okay, so if you want to learn to start controlling your magic, we’ll start tonight. I’m no spectral, but I know a bit about self-control—” Alleria gave him a skeptical look, a laugh escaping her lips. “Okay, self-control when it comes to combat, I mean.” he clarified, exasperated. The elf pursed her lips, doubtful, but keeping quiet. “Anyway, the first step is not being afraid of using it. You need to try to consciously summon the light to your hands, without relying on fear or anger.”

  Alleria nodded, staring down at her hands and squinting. She laid them on her knees in front of her, palms facing up. Seconds, then minutes passed. The fire popped. An owl hooted deep in the trees. She continued to stare, without anything happening. Then, she exhaled heavily—she had been holding her breath. “Nothing is happening.” She sighed, balling her hands into fists.

  “Okay, well, if magic is anything like swordplay, you definitely can’t hold your breath,” Laderic chided. He scooted over until he was sitting right beside her. He took her hands in his own. “Imagine the feeling you get when you use your spells. Not the fear or the anger, but the feeling within your body, from your head to your toes. Try to remember the feeling, and just close your eyes, and feel it.” At this point, Laderic felt like he was talking nonsense, but he was trying his best to translate the discipline in swordplay to magic. With his weapon, he was told to feel the sword as an extension of his body, and with each swing, to memorize the feeling in his arm until it was perfect every time. He figured that part had to be at least somewhat similar to magic.

  Alleria closed her eyes as she focused on her hands. She started with her head, recalling the warm, tingly feeling she got just before her magic happened. It moved from her scalp down to her ears, from her ears to her shoulders, and then down her arms into her fingertips. They became tingly, like they were asleep, and felt wet on the outside. Wet and warm. She took a deep breath, remembering what Laderic had said, allowing that feeling move through the rest of her body.

  “Slowly, open your eyes,” Laderic said quietly, trying not to startle her. Alleria let her eyes flutter open, immediately noticing the white glow from her palms. Sitting in each of them were small orbs of white light. Her eyes grew wider as she realized they were just sitting there, not hurting anyone, nor exploding. Reia paced over too, sniffing at her hands. As she became distracted with her own accomplishment, the balls of light faded away—but her smile did not.

  “I did it!” she practically shouted. Reia’s tails wiggled with glee, and she spun in circles. Laderic smiled as well, her excitement contagious. “Oh, Reia, it was beautiful! Did you see it? The orbs stayed this time, and they didn’t explode!”

  “Is that how your magic usually manifests? In orbs?” Laderic asked. He was genuinely happy for her small achievement.

  She nodded. “Sometimes. Other times, it’s a beam of light as well, but the explosions always start out as orbs that grow bigger until they burst. They never harm Reia or me though.”

  Laderic nodded, thinking. “That sounds like light-bringer magic. They can direct it in a way that only hurts enemies and washes over allies without harm. They can also heal others, but I doubt you’ve ever tried that before.”

  Alleria thought for a second. “I have, actually… but the only person I’ve ever healed was myself. And only when I’ve been hurt badly. It’s just like a reaction. Like, I see myself bleeding, and then I touch it, and it goes away.” She frowned. “I would really like to try healing other people, but I’ve been too scared. Now I know I can do it! With help, like, your help, I mean,” she stammered. She looked up into Laderic’s eyes, becoming suddenly hyperaware that they were only inches apart. She felt her face get warm and tingly, but this time, it wasn’t from the magic.

  Laderic felt hot all of a sudden, looking down into her bright purple eyes. Alleria blushed deeply, staring back at him. Their faces drifted closer together. I need to make it stop. It’s just because she’s an elf. She’s twisting up my senses—

  “Laderic!” It was Midiga, her voice pierced through the trees. She snapped him back to reality. He tore his gaze from Alleria toward the direction Midiga’s cry had come from. The felid burst out of the woods from the west. “Laderic,” she panted, her eyes wide with fear. Her tail whipped back and forth with anxiety. She shook with exhaustion, having sprinted the entire way back to camp. “You need to see this.”

  Chapter 8

  Laderic instructed Alleria to stay put, holding firm even through her pleas to come with them, and followed Midiga back into a deep part of the woods. He had taken a stick from the fire that was burning to carry with him as a makeshift torch, but it was shoddy, to say the least. She led him
west for several miles until they reached a small clearing where the trees were more sparse, and the sky was visible. He looked around, the moonlight providing more light than his so-called torch.

  “What am I supposed to be seeing?” he whispered, squinting into the darkness

  Midiga pointed across the clearing to where the treeline formed again. Laderic peered into the distance, struggling to see what she was gesturing at, and she groaned, frustrated that he couldn’t see in the dark as she could. She took a few steps forward with Laderic following right behind her. He only needed to get a little closer before he could make it out.

  A thick, black fog—thicker than even smoke—had spread itself along the forest floor in front of them. It seemed to stop when it hit the clearing, unnaturally confined to that side of the woods. And it was moving, heading north, thankfully, not flowing toward their campsite. It lay close to the ground, only rising about a meter or so before dissipating. It was like a sinister river, silently flowing through the night.

  To Laderic, it was an omen. “Midiga, do you know—”

  “I know,” she interrupted, sounding just as worried. She had heard many times Laderic’s tale of how his father and brother had died.

  “But why? Where are they going? Why are they here?”

  “I don’t know, Laderic,” she said, desperately trying to stop the tremble in her voice. She wasn’t sure if she was more afraid for herself or for him. “But I hope we don’t run into them. That fog is traveling directly north. If it keeps going the same direction, it will intersect with the path we must take to get to Strita.” She watched the fog, struggling to fend off the feeling of impending dread. “We need to pick up our pace if we are going to beat it.”

  Laderic was unsure whether he wanted to completely avoid them, or whether he wanted to charge across the clearing without another thought, brandishing his sword and killing each one of the nightwalker spectrals that he knew were hiding like cowards in the fog. He had recognized it immediately, as the very same fog had settled over his home just before they appeared and burned his house to the ground with that eerie, black fire.