Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Map
Chapter 01
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04
Chapter 05
Chapter 06
Chapter 07
Chapter 08
Chapter 09
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Lexicon
About the Author
Ashes to Embers
Book One of The Rise of the Phoenix
Michelle Schad
ASHES TO EMBERS
Copyright © 2019 by Corrugated Sky Publishing, LLC
Copyright © 2019 by Michelle Schad
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information visit :
http://www.corrugatedsky.com
http://www.tamingchaos.net
Book design by Michelle Schad
Cover design by Neil Que
ISBN: 9 7 8 0 9 9 8 2 6 0 5 9 4
First Edition: April 2019
For everyone who encouraged me to keep writing, to keep
going, to keep playing.
This is for you.
Chapter One
Shouts echoed just outside of Bayt Allas, the local thieves’ guild in the port city of Manau. Some were jeers and boos, while others cheered at the spectacle carried out before them. Reven Si’ahl did not like the sound of either, shoving his way through the throngs of people in time to see a whip crack across his partner, Liam Roe’s, face. The duende man hissed sharply, falling to a knee in front of a copper-skinned woman that hung limp and bloodied against a wooden post, bare from the waist up. The woman’s back was a horrid mess of open wounds and gaping flesh. The hakimu raised the whip again with intent to bring it down on Liam’s head but found himself staring into Reven’s rage-filled eyes. The snap of leather echoed into sudden silence. Reven wrenched the weapon from the hakimu’s hands and threw it on the ground, practically snarling as he did so. If he registered the pain that the lash caused on his arm, he did not show it, letting the blood drip to the ground over his fingers..
“How dare you!” the hakimu growled. “Insolent pig!”
“Spare me, you sadistic half-wit!” Reven barked.
“Neither of us are yours to punish! We are not part of your guild!”
“You…” the tall human bristled. “I will punish whom-ever I wish! Your whore of a woman stole from our house!”
Dealings in the city of Manau needed to be carried out lightly. Liam taught Reven that. Step wrong, and the humans that populated the coastal town would tear you apart as a sacrifice to their "mortal gods" or sell you to the first ship of slave traders that happened in to port. Despite living in Manau for nearly a year, Reven still had difficulty understanding the mortal gods that the western nations worshiped, for he had never heard of such a thing. Some things were more difficult for him to understand than others. There was precious little that the furious bard remembered of his life before traveling with Liam and Ajana, the woman tied to the post behind him. For all intents and purposes, they had rescued him from himself; he needed to pay the favor back in kind, so he stood his ground like a complete fool in front of the hakimu.
“And what business could require such brutal torture, Mahrvain?”
The new voice made the large crowd part with muttered whispers and heads down. A large man that Reven knew to be the guild master waddled through with his retainer right on his heels. He ignored them, helping Liam to his feet. The tanned olven man’s face bled, a gash just shy of his left eye. Nothing could be done while so many watched; it would attract too much attention. Reven pulled a kerchief from his pocket all the same and gave it to Liam.
Mahrvain was known to be brutal. Those that crossed him were often found nailed to wooden spikes and displayed for the town to see. Reven had been on the receiving end of Mahrvain’s wrath more than once with the scars to remind him not to cross the man. The scars did not work as intended, as was evidence by Reven's current situation.
“What did she steal?” Reven dared to ask in a low whisper for Liam’s pointed ear only. Mahrvain spoke with the guild master, gesticulating wildly, with spittle flying from his lips in rage.
“Dunno. Came in too late t’hear tha’ part. A'ready done his damage. He’d have kept goin’ too if I’d not stepped in.”
Reven only shook his head. Ajana had a knack for landing the men in vats of boiling water. They often joked that it was her greatest talent. She was also the best thief-taker Reven had met. She was better than Liam, who prided himself on holding the title of Master Thief-Taker in four different nations. This time however, Ajana had gone too far.
“...insolent pig interfered!” Mahrvain spat. The guild master turned to acknowledge Reven with new eyes. The fair-skinned olven man stood his ground, silently daring the portly man to take Mahrvain’s side. There would be little he could do if the guild master did side with Mahrvain. Still, Reven had enough gall to meet the man eye-to-eye all the same.
“You still have not named the item you claim the woman stole from you, Mahrvain,” the guild master said calmly. He, like the hakimu, was tall with skin so dark it rivaled the color of the night sky. As was custom within the nation of Kalaegh, regardless of the city, the people painted their dark features in vibrant colors with each pattern symbolizing their status, wealth, or tribe. The guild master wore paint across his brows and along the tops of his hands. Mahrvain wore two bright red dots on his high cheekbones and a series of bright yellow dots down the bridge of his nose. Reven did not know what it meant but found it beautiful after a fashion - - unless his life was on the line. Mahrvain named an item that made Reven peer at the hakimu. He was lying. Reven practically felt it slap him in the face. If Ajana had stolen anything, it was nothing of value; if she’d actually stolen something.
“Liar…” Reven dared to whisper, watching the interlude carefully. He bit his tongue as soon as he realized he was heard.
Mahrvain growled, lunging toward the bard in a blind rage. The man was a beast, all muscle and had no care for rules or honest fighting. He charged right into Reven, knocking him flat on his back, hands around the poor bard’s throat. The crowd hollered again, cheering or jeering as was their pleasure. The air would not surface in Revan’s lungs, making him panic as he felt the familiar burn of Power coursing through his veins. That would only make things worse. Arcanists were hung in Kalaegh.
“ENOUGH!” the guild master finally boomed.
Air suddenly rushed Reven’s lungs, allowing him to suck in ragged breaths while Liam helped him sit up. There was silence for a moment as the guild master restored order. He then turned to discuss matters with Mahrvain in hushed tones, all the while glancing at Liam and Reven. Mahrvain fumed, glaring horribly at each of the olven men in turn. The hakimu would not take this insult lightly, regardless of what the guild master’s ruling might be.
“Got more balls in ya than I’d expected, mate. You’ve not even been drinkin’ yet,” Liam whispered. Reven glared at him.
“A new arrangement will be made,” the guild master declared. “You two will retrieve a treasure on my list. The worth of it will be divided - half to me, the other half to Mahrvain for the sleight he has received this day. In return, you will be allowed to live another day. The woman will be kept in our holding cells until your return. All contracts with our guild, however, are now forfeit.”
Liam and Reven regarded one another, looking back to the mess that was left of Ajana. There did not seem to be any life left in her. All they could do was hope that she would pull through.
“Allow her to be healed first,” Reven dared.
“Show of good faith.”
The guild master twisted his lips in annoyance. “I would not waste the coin to heal her,” the guild master huffed.
“Then let me do it,” Reven cut in. He kicked himself for speaking so quickly, but recovered with equal speed. “I am a bard, after all. It will be something and at no cost to you.”
The guild master looked at his retainer, murmured something to him that made the other man nod, and Mahrvain scowl.
“Agreed. She will be branded a traitor to the guild - but I give you her life. Yours are still in jeopardy. Are we in accordance?”
Reven and Liam looked at each other again, then to the guild master, both answering in unison.
“Done.”
***
Several hours later, Reven mused at the state of things. At one point in time, when they first arrived in Kalaegh, Reven wondered why the people were so dark of skin. They were not like the tywyll olve who had skin like charcoal, in equally varying shades of gray. The tywyll lived mostly underground or in caves. Their skin made it easier for them to hide, much like the duende had a ruddy, brownish coloring that helped them hunt within the forests that most lived in. But the people of Kalaegh had no caves or forests. Almost all of them lived in coastal cities or fishing hamlets away from the wild jungles at the center of the island. Yet, they all claimed that Yira, the goddess of dreams, stitched them from the night sky in her image and offered no other logical explanation for their dark coloring; they didn’t even fish at night.
However, as Reven trudged through the dense jungle at the center of the island, sweat plastering his linen tunic to his back and chest, he understood why. It was not from any god or for any hunting - - it was so that they did not fry to a crisp when the sun rose in the sky. The sun beat down on the weary olven men despite the shade from the tall, thin trees with their wide-spread fronds. Reven felt the burn on the back of his neck and tips of his ears, his own pale skin unaccustomed to so much torment. He would easily be the color of an apple by morning.
“Why is it so bloody hot out here?” Liam complained. Reven only snorted, stepping over a fallen log. He used a staff to balance himself, Liam following along with groans and complaints.
“This is your fault,” Reven said. “Nearly five years I’ve known you, chivalrous is never a word I’d have thought to describe you but suddenly you grow a set when Mahrvain is involved?”
“Shu’ up,” Liam groaned. They remained silent for a time after that, stopping occasionally to rest their legs or drink from a canteen that needed refilling.
“How much further?” Reven asked while they sat against a tree. He was tired already, his left leg cramping uncomfortably. The jungle was beautiful but stifling in its heat and humidity. The air felt like a wet blanket and, despite the sun, both men walked in little more than small clothes through the living sauna.
“Eh…Just over that small ridge. There’s a network of caves, I guess. That’s where this treasure’s s’posed t’be.”
“Do we even know what this stupid treasure is?” Reven countered.
“Jewel,” Liam shrugged, tucking the map away in his sack. “Red one. Ishaq said we’d know it when we saw it.”
“Glorious,” Reven grumbled. “Who in all the hells is Ishaq?”
“Guild master,” Liam answered, pushing off the rock he leaned on. “C’mon.”
Reven only made a confused face and followed. Liam knew too much, kept too many secrets. It was not worth an argument now.
By the time the two men reached their marked destination, Reven wanted to hang himself in one of the tall trees. The cave was so blessedly cool compared to the outside he nearly wept with joy. He even went so far as to plaster himself against the cave wall for several minutes just to cool his aching skin. It was dark inside the cave, with a sharp smell of fresh mud. Somewhere there was a water source that trickled through, leaving tiny puddles inside the cave or creating slick falls along the walls. It was the most glorious thing he’d seen all day.
“Now where?” Reven asked, cautiously stepping further into the cave. The ground angled down, the tunnels narrow but damp, with a few vines growing overhead.
“He didn’t give me a map o' the cave, just how t’get here,” Liam admitted. Reven stopped, turned, and fixed the other man with a glare that could shatter
stones. Liam only grinned. “Maybe we’ll see one o'them mortal gods they all worship, yeah?”
“I’m going to hit you,” Reven intoned. He was about to do just that, raising his fist, when he stopped. Liam flinched, expecting the blow to land, but Reven ignored him, turning back toward the darkness of the cave tunnel. He felt something that made the spot between his shoulder blades tingle uncomfortably and his stomach twist into knots.
Power.
The thought came to him in an instant. There was something terribly Powerful nearby. It pulsed through the ground, the energy of it running up through the soles of the bard’s leather boots, all the way to the tips of his burnt ears. It robbed him of breath, making him sway in his stance enough that he would have fallen backwards were it not for Liam’s steadying hand.
“You a‘right?” Liam asked, with genuine concern in his voice. Reven shut his eyes, frowning as he ‘listened’ to the Power beneath them sing its terrifyingly beautiful song. It sounded oddly familiar to him, like the echoing voice he kept hearing in his nightmares. It made him cringe and take a step back right into Liam.
“Rev?”
“Fine,” he managed to breathe out. “I’m fine.
There’s something Powerful here…”
“Oh dandy,” Liam quipped. Reven glared at Liam but kept moving, following the pulse beneath his feet rather than exploring at random. If there was something Powerful, chances were good that there would be treasure nearby. He had his theories about the mortal gods that the people of Kalaegh worshiped.
Dragons were very Powerful beings and known to hoard all manner of things. He could see how the uneducated might look to the large mythical beasts as gods. It sent a thrill down his spine, followed by a shiver to think of it that way. He did not want to face off with a dragon. Or get too close to the Power making the terrifying song in his head.
Liam followed, muttering to himself. He was always muttering. It was a nervous habit of the thief- taker that Reven had not yet puzzled out. Nervous ticks and deep secrets. He was an odd man, Liam.
“Where are we goin’?” Liam whispered against the back of Reven’s burnt neck.
“Toward the source of the Power,” he whispered back.
“Why? I thought we was supposed t‘be findin’ treasure?”
“We are,” Reven sighed. “If I can find the source of the Power, the treasure might be theeeEEEHHHHHHRRRE!!!”
The last of his statement was wrenched from his lungs and throat as the ground beneath him gave way into a steep, jagged hole. The flesh tore off his back and sides as he fell, Liam’s voice echoing after him in desperation to help, without the ability to do a damned thing. It was desperation Reven felt as acutely as each jab of rock or slice of stone raked across his bare skin. The hole ran deep, all of it black as pitch until the very end when a rush of bright blue light blinded him just before his feet collided with a loud
crunch onto the stone beneath him. Pain radiated up through his legs. They gave out from beneath him, landing him face first on the floor. He had no breath, no strength to move, and just groaned, listening to his partner holler his name from above.
Chapter Two
“REVEN!!” Liam hollered. He could not see the other man nor did the bard answer Liam’s frantic calls. “Shit!”
He glanced around the cave for something to help his friend, feeling desperate and helpless. He had no real Power except to sometimes hear the thoughts of others if he concentrated. It would do nothing for him now that he needed to reach Reven. First Ajana, now Reven. Anger welled up inside of Liam as he sucked
in a sharp breath. He would be nothing without the other two; nothing. Every part of him depended on their talents, Power, and the gullibility of others.
“Yer entirely useless, ya know tha‘!” he snarled at himself, shimmying his way down the hole that opened beneath the bard’s feet. It was mostly soft earth and the occasional jagged rock that scraped his palms or bruised his knees. Twice his sack caught on a stone or a vine, entwining it around his neck and nearly choking him. Halfway down, the walls of the hole gave way, sending him sliding. His fingers dug deep into the dirt and rock as he slid, the toes of his boots rubbing away with the grating stone until he tumbled out as if spat by a creature that did not like the taste of him.
Liam took a moment to regain his bearings, shaking himself of the soreness that would surely come. A river of bright blue molten liquid flowed through the larger cave they’d fallen into. It flowed downward, allowing him to find an exit path along with Reven’s still form.
“Rev?” he said, crawling over to the bard using the heels of his palms. They stung, both bleeding and both peppered with tiny stones. “Reven?”
The bard did not answer. He lay face down, backpack torn to shreds, supplies strewn all about, and too still for Liam’s liking.
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