Ashes to Embers

by Michelle Schad

  “He fancies you,” Reven said. “He should, I suppose. He claims to know you rather well, young Master Oenel.”

  Kaleo looked at the bard, swallowing hard. He looked away just as quickly, pillowing his head on his arms and wrapping his wings about himself again. Reven sighed. He grabbed a handful of sand, pouring it from one hand to the other. Kaleo watched him, afraid to speak, afraid to even move.

  “Liam is often taken by ludicrous paranoia. He’s convinced half the world is hunting him down. They may very well be, but, most of the world doesn’t honestly care enough to put in that kind of effort to find one red-headed idiot. However, loathe as I am to actually agree with the moron, he’s not entirely wrong, is he highness?”

  Kaleo’s mouth dropped. Reven merely grinned.

  “I’m aware of who the Oenels were,” Reven said. “I can’t remember who I am; doesn’t mean I haven’t read up on what’s happened in recent time. You don’t get far in my world without knowing current events. They’re supposed to all be dead but… here you are. You know who I am, don’t you?”

  Kaleo swallowed again, throat dry and eyes stinging so much he shut them briefly just to make the stinging stop. Two fat tears rolled out and his nose suddenly decided to refuse air. He sniffled loudly then finally shook his head. “No. I don’t know you.”

  His voice was hoarse with pent up emotion, but he continued all the same. “I thought I did. I was wrong.”

  “Who did you think I was, then?” Reven persisted. The bard wanted to know, as desperate for information as Kaleo had been to find his father. But information would not change the fact that the bard could not remember a single sliver of his life prior to when Ajana found him; not a lick of it. Telling him would only complicate things. Kaleo felt Azure move about on top of his head, tugging at a few bunches of hair as if to encourage him to speak but Kaleo only shook his head.

  “It doesn’t matter,” the avian said. “You’re not him.”

  Reven sighed, leaning back on his hands. Kaleo looked at his toes, unable to actually look at the bard. In that moment, he wanted to be home. He wanted to believe what everyone told him, to mourn his father and finally let him go.

  “Who is Gannon?” Reven asked suddenly after several minutes of silence.

  “What?” Kaleo asked in return, lifting his head up off his arms. Azure flapped in response, hopping down to the sand between bard and apprentice.

  “Gannon,” Reven repeated. “Who is he? The parrot said to ask you.”

  Kaleo glared at the phoenix, sniffling again and rubbing his hand across his nose. To his credit, Azure made a strangled noise but hopped closer to Reven.

  Kaleo sighed. “Gannon was my father. During The Fall… he took me and my step-mother to safety. We begged him to stay but … but he said he had to go back for my cousins and my aunt. He promised he’d be back. He broke that promise. We never saw him again.”

  “You told me your parents were dead.”

  “They are. My step-mother doesn’t count. She’s vile,” Kaleo practically growled. “What does it matter, anyway? Nothing I tell you will bring him back! He’s gone.”

  Kaleo bit his tongue, hiding in his arms again. Silence followed, a heavy, uncomfortable silence that made Kaleo’s insides twist themselves up. His throat felt tight and tears saturated his thin sleeves. He tried not to sniffle too often, rubbing his nose on his sleeves before resettling with his brow down. He felt Fionn’s concern even from afar but ignored it. He listened to the desert creatures in their nightly hunts, a few of them scurrying across the sand to the shallow oasis. The people of Azucena claimed the desert was cursed, avoiding it like one might avoid a town with plague. It was a desert: hot - usually, and barren, and flat. Even in the dark of night, the heat lingered, which did not help Kaleo’s mood.

  “You know,” Reven began after a time. “The Fates often have a way of making things work out. They may take a very long and twisted path, but, eventually you end up where you were meant to be. They brought Ajana to me. Azrus knows where I’d be without that blessed woman. Why would she care? Why help a useless drunk? I’ve wondered that. Then I met Serai. Her purpose was not entirely clear to me at first either - still isn’t. But I am starting to see the path. And then they saw fit to send me an urchin. I’ll tell you something though, urchin…”

  The bard paused long enough for Kaleo to look up with a heavy sigh and swollen eyes. “What?”

  “I don’t think they put you on my path,” the bard grinned. “I think they put me on yours.”

  “Why?” Kaleo snorted. To torment me?

  “Could be for torment,” Reven smirked, clearly hearing Kaleo’s thoughts. “Or because it was what you needed. You needed to know your father is gone, to face it. But what are the odds of finding a bard in need of

  an apprentice at the exact moment that you sought to find your father? If the last five years have taught me anything, it’s to not take anything for granted and live in the moment. The past doesn’t matter. Right now, however… right now matters a great deal, urchin. And, right now, I’m getting sand in places I’d rather not mention.”

  Reven stood, dusting himself off before taking the few steps over to Kaleo. Azure was no longer with him, gone sometime in Kaleo’s misery. He looked up at the bard, catching a mischievous smirk on the tirsai’s face.

  “I can’t replace what you’ve lost; I wouldn’t try if I could. It isn’t fair to you or the memories you hold so dear. The few memories I do have are treasures. Might be fun to make a few new ones with an urchin at my side.”

  He offered his hand, waiting patiently. Kaleo stared at that hand, at tiny white scars that were not there before, the leather thongs wrapped around the man's wrists, and finally looked at the bard, himself.

  “I have a name, you know,” Kaleo said, finally taking Reven’s hand. He was hoisted up to his feet, feeling the same grit fall away like dead skin and squirmed.

  “I rather like ‘urchin’ better. Simple to say, simple to remember. Kaleo has too many syllables.”

  “Three. It has three syllables,” Kaleo argued, following Reven out of the desert.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Out on the border of the Forest of Talaedra and the road leading north from Joricho City sat a single cottage alone among a rolling field of wild blossoms. It was an anomaly among the blighted landscape surrounding it. Much of the land consisted of burned-out fields or endless acreage of dead grass.

  Madhavi had specific preferences, however, gladly using up her personal resources and Power to attain her little slice of heaven. The dragon-born woman admired the wild-flowers from the open window in the cottage’s kitchen. A tea kettle sat atop the fat cast iron oven, the water beginning to rumble as it boiled.

  “Madhavi!”

  She sighed, turning toward the front door. It could be opened at the halfway point if she wanted to allow a cross breeze through the back door and open windows. It was shut tight now, the steady pounding adding annoyance to the repetition of her name.

  “Madhavi!”

  She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, tail lashing as she moved to the door. The top half was unlatched, swinging open on squeaky hinges to reveal her brother’s vexed features on the other side.

  “Well, well,” Madhavi purred. “Look who’s come to visit among the simple folks. To what do we owe this rare pleasure?”

  “Open the door, Madhavi,” Daemodan sighed. “It is open, MoMo,” she teased. She even went so far as to lean her head on the top of the half- door, waggling her bottom in a childish enticement. Daemodan was not amused. Madhavi snickered as she stood up straight and unlatched the bottom half of the door. Of all her elder siblings, Daemodan was, by far, the one she could tolerate the most. However, that just meant she did not want to incinerate him on the spot. He was several decades older than she, handsome in his own right, and quite easily the smartest creature she knew. He also had the patience of a hyperactive gnat when he was in a mood - as he was now. He walked in to Madhavi’
s small haven with someone new right on the edge of his luxurious tail. The man was clearly another of her brother’s pet projects; he had a downcast expression and black spider veins creating a mask over his eyes and down the sides of his pale neck.

  “New pet, MoMo?” Madhavi asked. She closed the bottom of the half-door, letting the breeze blow through her small home. “He looks broken.”

  “He won’t speak,” Daemodan sighed with such exasperation that his wings twitched in a wide spread that nearly knocked over Madhavi’s cooking shelf. She glared at him, scooting past her brother to remove the tea kettle from the stove before it began to scream.

  “Could be worse,” she said, pouring three mugs of scalding water before adding several spoonfuls of tea leaves to each hand-glazed mug. “He could be like Roth.”

  Daemodan glared. He looked over at his new creation then back at Madhavi. She knew what he wanted. He’d asked the same of her for Jaysen and his hunters. He’d asked it for Roth as well, but that lunatic was so far gone that looking at him made her sanity begin to slip. Daemodan had done a true bang-up job on the former Phoenix Speaker. In the others, her intervention brought them mental stability and enough obedience that they did not immediately try to kill their maker. Roth… well, they were lucky he was even lucid; mostly.

  “Can you fix him?” Daemodan asked, taking his mug of tea. Madhavi walked the third mug to her brother’s new pet. She ran clawed hands through his soft, nearly white curls and tilted his chin up toward her. His eyes - one ice blue and one red - were glazed over, almost lifeless. What little life she saw held… rage. She smiled at him, stroking his cheek.

  “Are you sure that’s wise, MoMo?” she said, sipping her own tea.

  “Can you do it or not?” Daemodan sighed. “What will you give me?” she countered. He growled. His annoyance made her shiver with barely contained glee. Her home was payment for his hunters; her true prize was upstairs in the spare room she used for her personal hobbies.

  “You could always have Jaysen try instead…” she continued. His claws dug into the mug he held.

  “Jaysen is busy,” he snarled. “Just do what you’re told.”

  “Or what?” she giggled. She stopped giggling when he took firm hold of her neck. She gasped, croaking, eyes bulging.

  “Or Cavian will find himself without a sister upon his return. Learn your place, Madhavi. Get it done.”

  Daemodan squeezed on her neck for emphasis, dropping her as he exited her home. She raged at him, lobbing his left-over mug at the door. It shattered on impact. Her chest heaved and eyes watered. He would regret his actions. She would ‘fix’ his little toy - and pull him under her sway just like she’d done to Jaysen.

  ***

  Eventually, the inevitable happened. Xandrix gleaned that Jaysen was well enough to Travel and forced their tiny band to make the hop from Cartha to Kormaine. The Corrupted hunter was done wasting time and Jaysen was out of excuses. The human-run nation was so drastically different than Cartha it nearly hurt. It was cold, despite being late summer, with snow and ash falling from the sky. Jaysen felt each tiny flake hit his face, and smelled the ash collecting on top of his head. He also heard the rumble of thunder above his head and felt the charge of energy on the air created by a Hex Storm. It made the spot between his shoulder blades tickle uncomfortably and the hairs on his arms stand on end. He didn’t like it. The entire area felt unnatural. Some of it was the Hex Storm, but there was an underlying sensation that made the Corrupted olve uneasy.

  “Where is the king, Jaysen?” Xandrix snarled.

  They stood somewhere outside where there was no cover. There were demons nearby, most of them shying away from where Jaysen stood. There was a hierarchy in the Demon Realms that only the very bold or the very stupid dared to cross. Being what he was, Jaysen sat at the top of the hierarchy as did Roth and now the new one that had been created. Madhavi sat just above them as the daughter of the Red. All of his spawn were accorded a spot on the hierarchy. Everything else bent to their will - usually. Chaos was still chaos no matter what form it took, and commanding chaos was often like trying to hold water in an open palm. The few demons that roamed did so against orders. The majority of the horde had been ordered to the northern part of Kormaine. According to Xandrix, their tiny band was in the northern most part of the southern region in a city called Tatengel. Xandrix, Jaysen liked to point out, was the bottom of the barrel in the demonic hierarchy; an abomination in the eyes of demon and mortal kind.

  “You tell me,” Jaysen replied, leaning heavily on his staff with feigned boredom. The Corrupted hunter growled, grabbing Jaysen by the collar.

  “I don’t have time for your games, dammit!” Xandrix hissed. He was not normally so rough or demanding. Something happened that Jaysen was not aware of, something from Daemodan - or worse. His voice echoed through the ash, disturbing the beasts nearby, even at a hiss. He was not angry; he was afraid.

  “And I don’t have answers for you. I came to the Node. I assumed he’d be here - or near enough,” Jaysen answered calmly. It did no good to retaliate with anger. It was clear, now, that neither of them wanted to be in Kormaine. “What did he threaten?”

  “WOOOO!!!!”

  Their attention was diverted by the echoing howl of the idiot they were both saddled with. Jaysen sighed and heard the same from Xandrix as the man let him go. Roth bounded about, clapping at things in front of him so that it created a hateful echo that rivaled the thunder above or chased the citizens of the city around like they were insects. The Node was near a well that was within arm’s reach of where Jaysen stood. While he was not standing under any kind of cover, the way things echoed suggested an open courtyard near several buildings of short stature. The echo did not go very far, drifting away into the roar of the Hex Storm above.

  “Find the king,” Xandrix repeated with a little more patience in his gruff voice. “I’ll deal with Roth.” Jaysen listened to his surroundings, to the song on the air; Hikaru was the Node’s name. It was confused and concerned. The Hex Storm … frightened it. Jaysen had never felt fear from a Node before, it was not generally a thing that they experienced. What did a Node have to fear? Jaysen lifted his head to the sky, shutting his eyes and stretching his senses outward. Doing so made his head hurt, made horrible memories come barreling through his mind until he was crouched on the ground, hands over his ears and trembling.

  “Jaysen?” Xandrix asked, taking him by the shoulders. Jaysen shook his head, panting, feebly pulling away. “Jaysen!”

  “It hurts, doesn’t it, Moppet?”

  Roth.

  “What hurts?” Xandrix asked.

  “The air,” Roth answered.

  “Both of you get away from me!” Jaysen snarled as he pulled away from Xandrix. He forced himself to his feet, reaching out for Tanis until the large chimera came to him, her rough fur sliding beneath his hands.

  The storm brought fear. He began walking if for no other reason than to be mobile rather than helpless. The Hex Storm made his head throb or altered the sound of Hikaru’s Voice with each pound of thunder. He heard the screams of terror from the city’s inhabitants, the growls of the demons and shut his eyes, growling at all of it. It was overwhelming in a way that made him angry and terrified all at once.

  “Are you angry, Moppet?” Roth said, making Jaysen jump in spite of himself. He snarled in response. “Do you know what helps me when I’m angry? Floofs. Would you like one?”

  Jaysen shut his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t even know what a "floof" was, let alone want one. He was not given a choice. Roth took his hand, placing something soft and fuzzy into his palm that made Jaysen stop all forward momentum. Tanis moved ahead a few steps before stopping, her breath hitting Jaysen’s open palm where the "floof" was. He rolled the thing around, becoming familiar with it. It felt like fur but softer with a solid center. The mass changed as it rolled in Jaysen’s palm, but remained oddly even at the same time. He frowned, having never felt anything of the kind in his
short life.

  “What is it?” Jaysen asked, not trusting the Corrupted Speaker to give him anything normal.

  “A floof, silly. Told you it would work. You’re not angry anymore. You may keep this one. I have others. Demons!!”

  Roth’s shout made Jaysen shut his eyes again, take in a deep calming breath, and sag. The stench of sulfur was growing stronger. Part of it was the demons but part of it was the Hex Storm as well. There was a shatter of glass followed by violent screaming, begging, then sudden and disturbing silence.

  “Jaysen,” Xandrix persisted. They had a job to do, storm or no storm.

  “He’s not here, Xandrix,” Jaysen muttered. “It’s hard to focus; hard to think, but I know he’s not here.”

  Xandrix sighed. He had more than just a job on the line. If he returned empty-handed, he would be eliminated. It had happened to another of Daemodan’s hunters, the one sent out to find Ana’s Vessel before Xandrix. He’d failed. Xandrix had been sent in his place, returning victorious. The Corrupted man was easily Daemodan’s best hunter, accorded comforts not given to the dragon-born’s other creations. But Xandrix was not immune to punishment. In truth, neither was Jaysen. Whatever burden Xandrix carried, it was making him irrational, reflexive, dangerous.

  “Look, Moppet! There’s dead people down here!!” Roth called. His voice was lost in a rumble of thunder yet carried across to Jaysen’s ears on an odd echo. Jaysen only shook his head, fighting the urge to palm his face. Anytime Roth said ‘look’ to him, he wanted to shake the Corrupted idiot. Not that it would do any good. Instead he sighed, letting Tanis lead him to where Roth played.

  “Get out of there,” Xandrix commanded. Jaysen felt a blast of icy air that smelled stale and damp compared to everything else around him. He bunched his brows in thought, squatting down near this opening Roth found.

  “There are dead people! I’d like to bring them out for a dance!”

  “No,” Xandrix growled.

  “You’re no fun at all,” Roth retorted. Jaysen ignored them both, feeling around the edges until finding the narrow steps that led down.