Ember: Echoes of Ashes - Book 1

by Jessica Schmidt

  “It’s no use!” Reia yelled, concentrating on the intensity of her flames. She could not make them any hotter, though—try as she might.

  Laderic was not even close to breaking them out. He looked around, seeing the swarm of undead encroaching on Alleria and Midiga. He was completely helpless.

  “No!” Laderic begged. Elwyse towered over Midiga, the knife in his trembling hands. He raised it above his head, preparing to bring it down upon his enemy.

  “Stay back!” ordered Alleria over the sound of the ground tearing itself apart, the thunder growing louder and louder. Her eyes glowed a brilliant white as power flooded through her. The magic came naturally, and the undead were unable to withstand her might. Cold and confident, she moved with devastating purpose. Left and right, she cast orbs of light from her palms and into their chests, shattering the runes that kept them animated. But their sheer numbers were overwhelming—faster than she was taking them down they were replacing themselves. They formed a barrier between herself and Midiga.

  “I should have killed you all when I had the chance!” A crazed Elwyse was taunting Midiga as she lay on the ground in pain. “But now… there will be no more mistakes.” He swung the dagger down toward her neck, and Midiga closed her eyes, accepting her fate.

  “No!” screamed Laderic.

  Boom!

  The wall behind Elwyse exploded, and the force of it blasted everyone off their feet. A monster roared, a deafening noise piercing through the smoke and dust that shrouded the entire cavern. As the dust settled, Laderic couldn’t believe his eyes.

  “M-Mavark?” he gasped. He blinked. He must be seeing things, right? There couldn’t have been a more welcoming sight.

  An elegant dragon the size of a large horse stood poised and ready in what used to be the entrance to the dungeon. On her back, a fearsome warrior with huge, azure wings and a giant greatsword sat in a leather saddle.

  “Alleria!” Over the warrior’s head, a glowing green dot zipped into the cavern. Emery landed next to the elf, who was splayed out on the ground, completely dazed from the explosion. “Are you all right?”

  Around them, the dead began to stand, continuing their mindless onslaught. “I think so…” Alleria groaned. She looked around, grimacing. “But if we don’t stop them, none of us will be.”

  “Where’s the necromancer?” Midiga asked, panicked. She sat up, still holding her ribs.

  “Worry about that later. You have bigger problems!” Laderic shouted from the cage. The dead were encroaching on the three, mindless and unfazed by the blast.

  The dragon roared again, swinging its tail like a whip, cleaving four skeletons in half in one mighty swoop. At the end of its tail, two sweeping blades curved into a point, turning the entire limb into a halberd.

  Mavark leapt from the saddle, gliding on his own wings, swinging his sword over his head and taking out two more in front of him. He began slashing left and right, all while knocking more undead back with his powerful tail, carving a path to Laderic’s cage. He sliced through them like butter, a sea of bones turned into dust with every movement.

  “Mavark!” hollered Laderic when his friend reached the metal bars. “Man, you have no idea how good it is to see you.”

  The drake alamorph motioned for Laderic and Reia to scoot back and, with a single swing, shattered the superheated lock into pieces. The cage door swung open, and they quickly jumped out. Laderic took Mavark’s hand warmly, briefly embracing his comrade. Mavark pulled back, removing his helmet and taking a deep breath. His long dreadlocks fell out of his helmet and down his back.

  “How is it that I always find you knee-deep in the jobs I get hired to handle? You always beat me to it.” He grinned, looking around the room at the chaos. “You must be an artist—only someone that creative could get themselves into these kinds of messes.” He observed the pandemonium, impressed. “Seriously, I’m jealous. How do you do this?”

  “We can chat later,” Laderic promised. “For now, I need my weapons. Reia.” He looked at the kitsune, who was frozen with fear. “Go help Alleria.” She looked up at him, nodded stiffly, took a deep breath, and darted off into the swarm of undead toward where Alleria, Midiga, and Emery were holding their ground. Laderic watched her go, feeling a twinge of worry grip his insides, but he stuffed it down inside of him, turning his attention to the drake alamorph.

  “Mavark,” he said, smiling mischievously at his friend. “Let’s stop this necromancer.” As he spoke, hysterical laughter pierced the sound of fighting. Laderic and Mavark glanced toward where it was coming from, and Laderic’s heart skipped a beat.

  In the chaos after the explosion, Elwyse had crawled his way to the pool of magical energy. He was now knee-deep in the purple water. His body was glowing, and with each second that passed, he grew taller and taller. “You fools thought you could best me?” he shrieked. “What part of unlimited power do you not understand?” He raised his arm, and around him, glowing, shadowy phantoms manifested from thin air. “Kill them!” he screeched, and the phantoms joined the fight.

  “Prysmi!” Mavark roared. The dragon marched over to them, having cleared another path through the undead. “Can you smell Laderic’s weapons?”

  The iridescent dragon nodded, lifting her head and inhaling deeply. “There,” she said, nodding toward Elwyse’s chamber. “Somewhere in that room.” She tilted her head, watching Laderic fondly. She winked at him. “Hey there, long time no see.”

  “No better time than now. Can you get me over there?” Laderic asked. She nodded, crouching down. He reached up, grabbing onto to the worn leather saddle and pulling his body up into the seat.

  “I’ll go and help your friends. It sounds like they might need it. You guys stop that guy.” Mavark used his sword to point toward the necromancer, whose entire body was now glowing a vibrant purple. He was cackling, manipulating the undead with his wild gestures.

  “On it,” said Laderic. He hooked his boots into the stirrups, gripping the built-in handles tightly so he wouldn’t be thrown off. He looked back at Mavark, face stoic and grim. “Promise we’ll catch up over tea later?”

  Mavark grinned impishly. He pulled his helmet back on and pounded his chest with his fist. “Of course, brother. But, after this, I might need something a bit stronger than tea.” With that, he turned, and dashed into the swarm, carving a path toward the others.

  Chapter 15

  “Hold on,” Prysmi warned, fanning her metallic-yet-feathery wings. With a mighty thrust, she catapulted herself into the air, leaping over the swarm of undead toward Elwyse’s room, and Laderic’s effects. The ground shook when she landed, and she roared—a haunting, terrifying sound. More and more phantoms seemed to be appearing out of nowhere. She swung her bladed tail, slicing through their forms and shattering the magic that held them together. But, as quickly as she dissolved them, more were materializing.

  “Laderic! Go!” she cried, backing toward Elwyse’s door and extending her wing toward the ground like a ramp. Laderic leapt from the saddle, sliding down her wing and plowing his full body weight into the door, which caved in instantly.

  Inside, Odie was cowering under the bed in fear, and he flinched when Laderic burst into the bedroom. The room was sad and plain, with a single bed, another table with one chair, and a chest at the foot of the bed. He slid over to the chest, lifting with all of his might, but he found it locked.

  Suddenly, he remembered Odie’s collar of keys. “Come here, boy!” he called, whistling at Odie under the bed. The zombie dog cocked his head, ears perking up slightly. “Yes, that’s it, good boy!”

  Odie slowly crawled out from under the bed, the keys around his neck dragging across the floor. Laderic held his hand out, and Odie gave him a cautious lick. Laderic wanted to vomit but fought to keep a smile on his face. “That’s a… good boy,” he said, eyes watering from the smell.

  Odie wagged his tail, coming all the way out from under the bed, nuzzling against Laderic, who was trying his best to breath
e through his mouth. He fumbled around Odie’s neck, coaxing the dog as close as possible to the chest, and then set to work figuring out which key would unlock it. “Down boy, down. Let’s see… not this one—aha!” The third key he tried popped the chest open and sitting right on top were his weapons. He grinned, scratching Odie’s skull. “Who’s a good boy?” Odie barked, lolling his tongue out of his mouth with glee.

  Laderic grabbed his sword and daggers, swiftly attaching them to his belt as he ran back out into the fray. He scanned the chaos, drawing his sword in his right hand and a dagger in his left. It was dim, but across the room, he could see flashes of white light every few seconds, marking where Alleria and the others were standing their ground. Elwyse was to his right, facing the group of them, casting spell after spell in their direction.

  Midiga hadn’t felt so alive in a long time. Though her bruised ribs were throbbing, the adrenaline in her blood kept the pain pushed to the back of her mind. The rush, it was addicting. And without her bow, using only her claws… Something about going back to her primal instincts was absolutely riviting. Left and right, she pierced through the bones in their chests, shattering the runes that held them together like they were eggshells and she a baker. When the shadowy phantoms came, she hardly noticed, shredding their physical forms with a flurry of claws and teeth.

  Alleria had searched inside of herself for that feeling of retribution and called it into her mind. Her sole purpose, right now and always, was to protect her friends, to protect Midiga, who had now saved her life on two separate occasions. To protect them all. Orb after orb of light appeared in her palms, and she cast them from her hands with so much force, the skeletons were blown into pieces. The orbs vibrated with such energy that, on some occasions, they would explode on impact in a brilliant flash of light, damaging a group of undead instead of only one at a time.

  “Emery! I think I’ve got the hang of this!” she shouted, blasting another skeleton to pieces that was encroaching on Midiga. “Emery?” she said again, turning her head toward the fae. What she saw almost knocked her out of focus, and all she could do was stare, mouth gaping, at the scene before her.

  Emery was floating just a couple feet off the ground, eyes closed, moving her arms in a flowing, rhythmic pattern—an ancient, musicless dance. Around her, roots had sprung from both the floor and the ceiling and were sweeping entire groups of skeletons off their feet, knocking them into the walls. Roots from above were wrapping around their bony bodies, lifting them from the ground and sucking them back up, shattering them with such force when they hit the ceiling that bones were raining down upon the battlefield.

  The roots were writhing, keeping Emery safe independent of her movements. She danced in the air like a snake charmer, animating the roots but not controlling their movements herself. They protected her as she did them—their symbiosis a perfect union of power.

  From the fray, Reia leapt to Alleria’s side. All seven of her tails splayed in a halo around her body as she summoned orbs of fire around her, firing them into the horde of undead. They were holding them off, steadily for the moment, but it was only a matter of time before they began to tire. The undead, though mindless and weak, did not tire as the living did. Soon, their sheer numbers and persistence would become too much to bear.

  The four of them stayed near each other, strength in their united front. Emery’s plants were doing the job of ten men on their own, and the others felt safer near the fae’s powerful magic.

  Suddenly, flying over the wall of skeletons, a new form appeared. It soared over them, capturing the attention of the fighters for a brief moment. Powerful wings beat downward as it landed, a gust of wind buffeting the undead onslaught. A mighty warrior clad in silver armor had landed in their midst—gigantic blue dragon wings sprouting from his back. A long, muscular tail protruded from his backside, whipping side to side and repelling the monsters attacking him.

  “Is that—” Alleria wondered, eyes wide in a combination of fear and awe.

  “The drake alamorph,” Midiga finished, instantly nervous. He was in front of them, holding back the waves of skeletons with swing after vigorous swing of his giant greatsword. He was actually managing to push them back, and Midiga took notice, snapping back to reality and the battle before them.

  “Come on, give it everything you’ve got!” she roared, renewed fire in her eyes. The others around her redoubled their efforts, and they slowly began to chip their way through the undead toward Elwyse.

  The necromancer had grown into a near giant, standing almost two stories tall, glowing violet with magic energy. He cackled, eyes wild with insanity. “Yes! Yes!” he boomed, voice deepening as he grew. “Rise! Fight!”

  “Elwyse!” shouted Laderic from below. The necromancer turned his head, looking for Laderic on the ground. “You don’t have to do this!”

  “You know nothing,” he cried, devoid of reason. “I must protect this power!”

  “Elwyse, we can help you!” Laderic roared, turning to slash at a phantom that had approached him from behind. The ghast was made of a thick, black mist, with glowing green eyes as its only distinguishable feature. A clawed hand formed from the smoke and slashed at Laderic’s side. He dodged and swung upward with his dagger, cleaving through its eyes and shattering the magic holding it together.

  “Prysmi!” he called to the dragon. She snapped her head toward him, immediately leaping in the air and gliding in his direction. Laderic ducked, barely evading the swipe of another ethereal claw, sidestepping before slashing backward with his sword, severing the magical seal in the phantom’s eyes. Prysmi landed hard, swinging her tail as she did so, cleaving another row of ghosts with her tail. The situation was getting dire, and the undead were becoming unmanageable.

  “We have to get him out of that purple water!” shouted Laderic over the noise of the battle. “Time is not on our side!” He backed up toward Prysmi, letting her metallic body cover his rear.

  “How?” asked the dragon, using her wings as knives, slicing over Laderic’s head to take down yet another group of undead, but as soon as she took them down, nearly twice as many seemed to take their place.

  “Look, he’s growing!” Laderic pointed toward Elwyse, who had become distracted again in sending his minions teeming toward the others grouped in a tight circle and barely holding their ground. As the necromancer cast his spells, he continued to get bigger. His legs almost completely filled the geyser now, as it was only a couple of meters in diameter.

  “We have to knock him out of it! Once he gets stuck, we can take him down!” Laderic sprinted to Prysmi’s side, pulling himself into the saddle once more. “Can you fly well in here?”

  Prysmi nodded, swiping in an area around her to fend off the undead. “I think so, the ceiling is high enough.” The ceilings of the cavern were tall and arched, at its highest point being over six stories tall, but Prysmi’s wingspan was quite large, and maneuvering would be a challenge.

  “We have to try! We have to ram him—it’s the only way!” Laderic held on tight as the dragon took flight, beating her wings in the dead air to get some lift. She faltered for a moment, scraping her wing on the cavern wall and wincing in pain, but she pulled away, soaring into more open space.

  “Oh, look, it can fly,” Elwyse sneered, his voice even deeper than before. He reached his arm out, swiping at the dragon. She dipped and angled her wings, evading his giant hand by a thread. She took aim at his body, preparing to ram him, but forced out of position again, she only nearly dodged another swing.

  “It’s no use!” she cried, folding her wings to fly lower to the ground. “If he grabs me, we’ll both die!”

  “Stay airborne. We just have to wait for him to grow a little more!”

  Elwyse’s head was nearly touching the ceiling now, though he didn’t seem to notice. The others on the ground couldn’t help but see him now, looming over them, a significant presence even as the battle around them kept them fully engaged.

  “Look!”
shouted Alleria, pointing at the ceiling. A small dragon was dipping and diving, flying extremely fast around the cavern, keeping Elwyse distracted. Someone was on its back. “Is that… Laderic?”

  “I would hope so!” boomed the drake alamorph fighting alongside her. “I sent him with her, after all!”

  Alleria continued to watch the dragon, gasping when the necromancer almost caught it in his hand. As he was distracted, the undead on the ground stopped replacing themselves as quickly, and the group of fighters began to gain more ground, but the longer the dragon was in the air, the closer Elwyse got to smacking her into the floor.

  “Emery! Midiga! Reia! And… um…” Alleria could not remember the name of the drake alamorph at all.

  “Mavark,” he said, completing her sentence. He leapt to her side, startling the elf until she realized why he had done so. He folded his wings around her back, shielding her from a skeleton’s sword. It bounced off his blue scales, and he unfolded his wings with a powerful thrust, launching the skeleton across the room as he did.

  “Thanks,” Alleria breathed, throat tightening as she realized how close a call that had been. She shook her head, getting back to her point. “Laderic and the dragon are trying to take down the necromancer. We have to help him!”

  Emery zipped beside Alleria, landing hard on the ground, watching the aerial battle unfold. “I don’t know how much help I would be… I am pretty much spent. Nature magic like that without any sunlight is exhausting.”

  Midiga shook her head, fending off a few more straggling undead as she, too, watched the dragon zipping around in the air. “We just have to distract him long enough to give Laderic a chance!”

  With that, she took off, zigzagging her way through the last groups of undead, heading straight for Elwyse’s ankles. The others turned to follow, charging in as a group, with Reia sprinting ahead to catch up to Midiga.