The dragon shook her head, also reaching into the pile for a fish. “I know I’ve taken a different form, but I don’t know how you keep forgetting that I am a dragon.” She brought the fish up to her mouth, taking a bite right out of its side.
Midiga watched for a moment, mouth agape, before smiling and taking a bite of her own fish. It was delicious, though a bit too mild for her taste. She was used to the strong tasting fish back in Ulandyl. “We should do this in my hometown some time,” she suggested. “The fish there are phenomenal.” Prysmi’s face lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically.
They ate their fill, stealing glances at each other occasionally and smiling to themselves. Midiga found herself feeling a different kind of nervous around the dragon now, though she didn’t know why. Something about her smile, and her voice, and her eyes… She blinked hard, shaking her head back and forth, as though she were trying to make those thoughts fall out.
“It’s nice to eat and be like this, you know, with someone else,” Prysmi mused after a while. “I don’t have other dragons to spend time with, and nearly all of the people in Strita are human, not as close to nature as we are.”
Midiga nodded, leaping at the distraction. “I haven’t shared a meal like this since my dad was alive,” she mused. A quick pain gripped her heart, but she quickly pushed it down, gathering herself. “I’m sorry for earlier,” she admitted after a moment, looking down at the forest floor. “About being afraid of you. I heard your story earlier, but I didn’t listen.” Prysmi was silent, watching her with crystal blue eyes. Midiga continued. “I can’t say I know how you feel… My species is far from extinct, but I know what it feels like to lose someone you’re close to since I-I lost my dad, and—” Midiga’s throat felt tight, and the words stopped themselves from leaving her mouth. Not now.
Prysmi placed her clawed hand on Midiga’s shoulder, peering at her face closely. Midiga flinched, turning to look at her, fighting tears but to no avail. Prysmi gently reached up to her cheek, wiping a single tear from her silver-gray fur. “There’s no need to apologize,” she said firmly. “I know my species has not done a lot to gain trust from the others in the Far Land. It’s only natural to be suspicious. Don’t worry about it.” The felid nodded, wordless. Prysmi sat back, eyes turning misty as she absentmindedly stroked her wings. “And I’m sorry about your father. That must have been hard.”
Midiga said nothing as she stared off into space, fighting the dark thoughts that were clawing their way out of the trenches she had buried them in. “It’s nothing,” she assured, mostly to herself. I’ve gotta move, gotta do something—“Come on,” she said suddenly, smiling and getting to her feet. “Let’s get back to camp and share the rest of these fish.”
Prysmi grinned, standing as well and helping gather the fish in a cloth. They chatted all the way back, Midiga careful to keep herself talking, drowning out the creeping grips of depression threatening to strangle her all over again. It was seven years ago, she kept telling herself while Prysmi was speaking.
Why can’t I let this go? She smiled, nodding without actually hearing anything the dragon was saying, pretending to listen as she battled the demons of her subconscious.
Chapter 17
Elwyse’s body felt heavy, and he couldn’t figure out why. He was lying down on something soft. And he was so… hot. Why was it so hot? It never got hot in the cave. He groaned, moving to take his jacket off, but his hands were immobilized. Tied up by… something. A rope?
Suddenly, he remembered, eyes snapping open, setting first on Odie, who was back in his unaltered form, lying against a stone wall in front of him. He yipped happily, bouncing through the grass over to his face. Grass. Elwyse’s eyes grew wide with fear. “No…” he whispered. He wriggled, rolling himself onto his left side and freezing with fear.
He was outside.
“No!” he cried, struggling and writhing on the ground to no avail. “Do you realize what you’ve done?” He scanned the area around him frantically, locking onto the drake alamorph, who was leaned up against the cliff wall, eying him coolly.
“And what exactly would that be?” asked the half-dragon. “Capturing you and shutting down your little operation?”
“It’s wasn’t my operation,” Elwyse sneered, struggling for a moment to sit up. He saw his legs were also bound together, and he groaned. “Take me back, I’m begging you!” His voice panicked. This intrigued Mavark, but he kept silent.
“What’s—oh, he’s awake.” Laderic yawned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. The sun was behind the trees now, almost completely set. He glanced around, scanning the treeline. “Midiga and Prysmi back yet?”
Mavark closed his eyes, silent for a moment, then opened them and nodded. “They’re headed this way now. Couldn’t have been better timing.” He nodded down toward Elwyse, who was pulling at his bindings to no avail, ignoring Odie who was bouncing around him and yipping happily.
“Please… you have to take me back,” he pleaded, shimmying himself around to look at Laderic. “I promise, I won’t kidnap anyone else. I-I’ll keep to myself.” There were now tears in his wide eyes.
Laderic smiled, slowly. Something about watching Elwyse struggle and beg was enticing. “I would love to hear this,” he started, getting to his feet and walking toward Elwyse, deliberately.
Alleria had woken up, as well, and was watching the commotion, clutching Reia in her arms as she sat cross-legged on her sleeping bag.
Laderic knelt down until he was eye level with Elwyse, face nearly touching his. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” he threatened, so quietly that Alleria could barely hear.
Elwyse’s mouth gaped open and then shut like a fish, not sure now if he was more scared of Laderic than—“Because they’ll kill me. They’ll kill you and all of your friends.”
“You mean like you tried to do?” Laderic’s voice was colder than ice. Without warning, he shoved Elwyse to the ground, standing up straight and towering over the necromancer. He stuck his boot into Elwyse’s chest, pressing down, hard. Alleria flinched but said nothing. It was as if Laderic wasn’t even the same person. “Right now, this is how I see it,” he hissed, a sinister look in his eyes. Mavark, as well, remained silent, watching carefully. “You tried to kill me, you tried to kill my friends, you imprisoned us underground, and now, we have you in custody, and you’re trying to scare us with some looming made-up threat?”
He drew his sword, and Alleria squeezed Reia tighter. Mavark’s hand drifted to his own sword, but he remained where he was. Laderic pointed his sword at Elwyse, resting the blade on his neck. Odie growled, yapping but staying out of range. “You had better start talking, right now,” he whispered, deathly serious.
Elwyse swallowed, opening his mouth to speak when Prysmi and Midiga came out of the woods. They were jogging, Midiga carrying a sack of something wet. When they saw Laderic standing over Elwyse, they ran faster.
“Prysmi said something was wrong.” Midiga panted as they approached. She observed the situation, Laderic threatening Elwyse as he lay tied up on the floor. “I thought so,” she confirmed, staring daggers at Elwyse. “Can we kill him now?”
“We aren’t killing him,” said Mavark, quietly but firmly. “He is my prisoner, after all. He’ll go to the jail in Strita until I can figure out what the Ambassadors want me to do with him.”
Laderic ignored Mavark, still staring coldly at Elwyse, pressing the metal of his sword against his neck. “Talk.”
Elwyse’s eyes darted between them, and he took a deep breath. “You made a mistake dragging me out of Ewa’faita,” he began, voice trembling slightly. “I was just there guarding it—”
“Well, there’s nothing left to guard now,” Mavark said. “The spring was plugged up with rubble. It’s just normal water now.”
“Who were you guarding it for?” demanded Laderic. “You keep saying ‘they this,’ ‘they that.’ Who is ‘they?’”
Elwyse closed his eyes, squinting them shut. He
opened his mouth and said something, but it was too quiet for anyone to hear.
“Speak up!” Laderic barked, impatiently, pushing his sword into his neck a bit further until a thin line of blood appeared.
“Laderic…” warned Mavark, drawing his sword a bit more. But Laderic ignored him once again, holding his weapon steady.
Elwyse swallowed, licked his lips, and spoke again. “The nightwalkers,” he whispered, and a tense silence overtook them.
Laderic nearly dropped his sword, removing it from the necromancer’s neck, feeling his heart rate double. No… he thought, turning away from Elwyse and scanning the woods frantically, but there was nothing. He felt a rage growing in his chest, and he threw his sword on the ground, kneeling and grasping Elwyse by the shoulders, shaking him like a rag doll. “So you’re working with them, huh?” he roared.
“Laderic!” Alleria cried. She set Reia down and stood, rushing over to pull him off Elwyse, who was still tied up and completely helpless as he was thrown around. “Stop! Let him talk. He’s clearly not on their side if he’s so scared!”
Midiga rushed over as well, and the two of them wrenched Laderic off the necromancer, who struggled to remain sitting up after becoming so disoriented.
Laderic was panting, still seeing red. “Explain yourself,” he said darkly, murder threaded through his words. He noted his sword on the ground but didn’t reach for it yet, as Midiga and Alleria continued to hold him back.
Elwyse took a shaky breath, calming his nerves. “F–Four years ago, I was traveling through this area of the Brushdeep,” he began, voice shaky. “I found the fort, something called me to it. I can’t explain it… I think it was just the presence of the magic power, but when I found the magical spring, I also found trouble.
“The nightwalkers were already there, using the water for… experiments, I guess you could call them. These nightwalkers were different from ones I had met in the past… They were sinister, evil. Working together, claiming to serve some higher power. Instead of killing me, they told me I could live if I stayed in the fort and guarded the spring, scaring outsiders away with my magic. They told me I could use the spring’s power to fuel my necromancy, as long as I never left…
“Whatever they had been using the spring for wasn’t working out, and they soon abandoned their project, leaving me there alone. They told me they would come to check on me every now and again, and if they found out that I even so much as visited the surface, they promised me a fate crueler than death.” He paused, eyes turning glassy as if he had seen some kind of unmentionable horror. After a moment, he blinked, returning to his story.
“Since then, I remained underground. For four years, I’ve stayed there, with no one but Odie by my side. I did my best to keep outsiders away, and they or their servants would come every few weeks or so to check on the status of the spring. They usually sent their canid followers to sniff around upstairs and make sure I hadn’t left my post. Their visits have been more infrequent as of late, but they were supposed to be here just two days from now.” He looked up at Laderic, pleading once again. “You have to take me back there, or we’ll all be dead! Or worse—”
“Not happening,” Mavark spoke, shutting that idea down instantly.
Alleria was frozen, mind racing, connecting the dots. “You said they were looking for me… Did you say they had canidae working for them?” Elwyse nodded, avoiding her gaze. Terrified, she locked eyes with Laderic, sharing the same thoughts.
“If you don’t let me leave, they’ll find us,” the necromancer whispered. “The canidae are bloodhungry. They have hunters for every single race in the Far Land. They have pieces of my clothes. They’ll track me down, and I’m sure once they catch the scent of your elf friend here, they’ll make finding us and killing us a priority.” His voice was monotonous now, accepting his grim fate.
Alleria was shaking. “M–Midiga? Laderic?” she asked, panicked. She let go of Laderic’s arm, taking a few steps back. Her friends were silent, shocked as she was. She shook her head. “But nightwalkers have never came for me,” she rationalized quickly. “Only canidae.”
Elwyse frowned. “They rarely do their own dirty work. After they abandoned the spring, they hardly ever came to check on me themselves. But this time, a few of them were supposed to come and test something in the water, but now that it’s gone… they’re going to kill all of us.” The last phrase he said as a matter-of-fact statement. He stared blankly at the grass in front of him, a tear leaking from his right eye and dripping down his cheek.
Laderic looked at Mavark, who was still stoic. “We should kill him,” he said. “Then we can take Alleria to safety.”
The drake alamorph shook his head. “No, he comes with me, alive. I don’t like killing if I can help it. You know that.”
“Mavark!” Laderic yelled, taking a few steps toward his friend and gesturing wildly with his hands. “Did you not hear what he said? Nightwalkers, who knows how many. Midiga and I saw black fog on our way to Strita just a few days ago. I feel it in my bones. He’s telling the truth. We will all be killed!” Alleria, hearing for the first time the news about the fog, began to cry softly.
Mavark shook his head, sheathing his sword and walking over to Elwyse. They all grew silent, watching as he took a spot behind the necromancer. “No, we won’t,” he declared, planting his feet behind their prisoner. “We have bait, and we’ll have an advantage.” He gestured toward Elwyse, taking a motivational tone. “We know they’re coming. We take Elwyse to Strita. We’ll have at least a day to prepare. I’ll get the people in town ready, and we set up an ambush.” He grinned at Laderic, who was unconvinced. “They think they have the element of surprise… but now the tables have turned. Laderic, we’ll take them down. All of them. We’ll end this once and for all!”
Alleria stood, shocked, feeling a tiny glimmer of hope spark in the back of her mind. End it, finally… For a brief moment, she imagined what it would be like not to have to run anymore. Emery suddenly whizzed down from the trees, hovering beside Mavark with her hands on her hips. “I like what he has to say,” she mused, having been listening from up on her perch. “If we’re doing this, though, we need to get moving soon. We have a lot of ground to cover.”
“Emery, you don’t have to come, this isn’t your fight,” Laderic said, but she shook her head.
“Who’s gonna carry my bag all the way there?” she said, gesturing over to Laderic’s pile of things where the fae’s bag had been strapped together with his own. “Besides, I can’t let you guys handle this on your own! All of us combined, we can finally end this thing! At least for Alleria’s sake.”
Prysmi and Midiga were nodding in agreement as well, but Laderic was still unsure. “Mavark, I’ve seen this first hand. I don’t think this is going to go like you think.” He pointed accusingly at Elwyse. “He got us into this mess, and killing him is the first step out of it!”
Mavark’s gaze turned serious. “Laderic,” he said with voice dark, “I don’t want to have to fight you about this.” Midiga’s tail began to twitch. “The necromancer is my prisoner, and I’m not going to let anything happen to him until justice is served. If you do not want to come with us to Strita, I cannot force you, but you aren’t going to lay a hand on him.” They stared at each other, each refusing to look away first.
Laderic was stunned, gritting his teeth and holding his tongue. He was at an impasse, knowing he would not be able to convince Mavark that he was wrong. He ran the options through his head, reluctantly admitting to himself that, if it came down to a fight, he would lose that too. But… what if he’s right, he thought suddenly. Maybe we can take them on with all of us together.
He broke eye contact finally, inhaling deeply. “Fine,” he huffed, breaking the tension. “We’ll plan an ambush.” He glared at Elwyse. “You’ll tell us everything you know—and I wouldn’t try anything if I were you. I know you think he’s protecting you right now, but don’t get it confused—he’s not on your side.”
>
Mavark nodded, coming around and kneeling in front of Elwyse, looking into his eyes. His sapphire wings flared behind him, blocking out the sun, casting the necromancer in darkness. “Just in case there’s still any confusion,” he began, and before anyone could react, he drew back his fist, punching the necromancer square in the face and knocking him out cold. Everyone was stunned. “That’s for trying to kill my friends,” he concluded, standing back up and walking over to Prysmi’s saddle.
In silence, they gathered their things. There was no more time for rest—not until they reached Strita. “You know, we still could have gotten more information out of him,” Prysmi told Mavark as they retrieved her saddle.
Mavark nodded, unhooking some of the straps. “Yes, but solidarity with the rest of them is more important than that right now. We know what we need to know. In two to three days, we are likely going to have some unwanted visitors. He’ll wake up by tonight, and we can question him further. Right now, we need to get to Strita.”
Prysmi nodded, accepting her soul partner’s judgment. She closed her eyes, enveloping her body in blinding light once again as she shifted back into her beast form. Mavark hitched the saddle on her back as the rest of them finished packing.
“Did anyone not get any sleep?” Mavark asked, taking charge. Midiga raised her arm meekly. “I know you’re likely exhausted, but do you think you could make it a few more hours until we absolutely have to stop for the night?”
“You can ride in the saddle,” Prysmi suggested, padding over to the felid and kneeling down.
Mavark nodded in agreement. “I can carry the prisoner for now.” He lifted Elwyse with ease, slinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Everyone else was ready, bags packed, and on edge. “If we cover some ground tonight, we should reach Strita before tomorrow night, and there’s room at my place for everyone to sleep in a bed.”
Ember: Echoes of Ashes - Book 1 Page 20