The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1)

by Melissa Collins

  “If they were so content to let the other live peacefully, why did they go to war?”

  “That is the complicated part,” Feolan frowned, releasing his hold on her hand. All at once the energy ceased to flow between them, though the thrum of it still tingled over every inch of her arms and legs. Sliding her other glove off, he used his own hands to press her palms together, holding them there tightly. “The Ven’shal at the time were led by a very powerful man by the name of Arcastus. Queen Vorsila’s mother, Queen Nalashi, was on at least tolerable terms with Arcastus. They agreed to disagree with each other’s beliefs. Until Mescavis.”

  Leyna’s hands were starting to feel strange. Her palms were growing increasingly warm where they were pressed together, held firmly in place by Feolan’s hands. Gently he took his fingers and wrapped them over her wrists, guiding her hands to slide back and forth. “Mescavis was a well known Vor’shai of some significant power. He had lost his wife to an illness and was devastated by her passing. He began warping his own magic, trying to find a way to restore the life to her extinguished body, disregarding the rules of leaving the deceased to rest. His attempts became more and more obscene, twisting the corpse into a hideous deformity of what she once was. Realizing he was failing, he took what was left of her decaying body to Arcastus and begged for him to help. Even Arcastus didn’t want to touch what Mescavis had done to his poor wife.”

  “It sounds like the Ven’shal had their limits, at least,” Leyna mused. The warmth was building even stronger between her hands with every pass until Feolan released her wrists, positioning her palms to face the other the way he had done with his own not long before. As he pulled away from her completely, she felt the thrum of energy passing between her own hands, pushing against her palms like two opposite magnets forcing the other away.

  “They did, possibly. But when Arcastus refused to help him, Mescavis murdered Arcastus with his perverted magics. He had fallen beyond redemption into the sorcery he had created by carelessly mixing the Vor’shai energy with that of the Ven’shal. The Ven’shal took the slaughter of their great leader as a direct insult. They gathered up an army of grotesque composition, their own soldiers, mingled with abominations of corpses they had reanimated from their graves; and they marched on the city of Sivaeria, where the Queen lived. Queen Nalashi attempted to send men to negotiate and explain that it was an act of only one man and not her entire kingdom, but the bodies of the messengers were sent back to her repeatedly. The Vor’shai were left with no other alternative than to fight.”

  There between her hands, a soft blue light materialized, strengthening the charge of energy bouncing back and forth between her palms. Excitement filled every part of her body at the sight. She had done it. She could see the energy – her own energy – right there before her eyes. After so long, she’d started to think it didn’t exist inside her. But there it was. Feolan had somehow awakened it from wherever it had lain dormant for over eighteen years.

  “After nearly a decade of fighting, the Vor’shai finally won… but not without cost. Their military was severely depleted and the cities of Tanispa had been ravaged. Queen Nalashi forced the Ven’shal from Tanispa, sending them into hiding in fear of being taken captive and executed for the horrible crimes they’d committed throughout the war. The Ven’shal had behaved unscrupulously. The scars left by their wicked magic can still be seen all throughout Tanispa. No one really knows where they crawled off to. I imagine they are scattered all across the provinces and countries, hiding their faces from the public eye. They should be well aware of the fact that the Vor’shai have not forgotten what they are capable of.”

  Thinking back, Leyna tried to summon the memories from all those years ago when she and her mother still lived in Tanispa. She could hear her mother’s voice still pleading with her grandfather, insisting that someone had been Ven’shal. Her father? But that couldn’t be possible. Her mother insisted her father had been a loyal Vor’shai. So then what had been such a disgrace? Someone had been working with the Ven’shal – “I think I can safely assume that any Vor’shai caught affiliating themselves with a Ven’shal even now would be considered traitors to our people?”

  “Of the highest degree,” Feolan nodded. That explained some of it. Someone had been a traitor and her grandfather wanted to use their exposure to benefit himself. Oh, why couldn’t she remember anything else? The names, everything, it was all a haze to her. Maybe in time it would start to make more sense. Until then, she would just have to try and get by with what few memories she still had of her mother.

  Out of curiosity, she lowered her hands to the ground, separating them just enough to place another budding flower between her palms. She knew Feolan was watching her. Willing her to succeed in her attempts. She wasn’t quite sure how he’d done it, but it seemed easy enough to mimic. Picture the flower. See it blooming there in her hands.

  The blue aura slowly worked its way over the bud. Nothing happened at first. The flower stem wobbled under the transfer of energy, rocking from side to side with no sign of opening its petals at her command. Relaxing her shoulders, she closed her eyes, envisioning the flower coming to life. She could still see the way the bud had opened to Feolan’s gentle guidance, revealing its inner beauty. She could do it. She knew she could. It was just a matter of…

  “Well done,” Feolan applauded, his lips displaying a proud smile as Leyna opened her eyes. Glancing down to her hands, she saw the flower still resting between her palms, the soft blue light gradually pulling open the petals. Not quite as fluid as Feolan’s had been, but it was working. That was all that mattered to her.

  When the last petal pulled itself from the bud, she drew her hands back, beaming excitedly at her accomplishment. It wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but it was a big deal to her. The energy was within her. It would only be a matter of time, and dedicated practice, before she would be able to utilize the magic the way she’d seen Feolan and Thade do so many times before.

  A cracking noise came from somewhere in the distance. Instantly, Feolan and Leyna were on their stomachs, ducking down out of view of the main path. Feolan lifted his arm up, giving a warning signal to the other soldiers scattered in hiding around the woods. In silence, they waited. Leyna at first counted two sets of footsteps, quickly multiplying into more than she could decipher. Their pace was too brisk for them to be attempting subtlety. Their boots cut through the leaves, sending rocks and branches tumbling across the path in front of them.

  Leyna could make out the familiar uniform of the Namiren commander, leading the group coming their way. She’d seen the Namiren people hundreds of times over the past couple of years yet their appearance never ceased to amaze her. The commander’s complexion was a deep brown tone, comparing only to the skin of the Carpaens from the hot desert sun. His hair hung like feathers down his back, each strand thick and wide, resembling the tail of a peacock at rest, though the color was shaded in browns and blacks, connecting to his head from the top of his skull down to the base of his neck. A few feathered strands draped over the large bony crest which jutted out from the skin, circling horizontally around his forehead, disappearing under the hairline. The Namiren were a tall race, towering over the Sanarik when standing side by side. Their eyes slanted drastically at an upward angle, the yellow iris giving a predatory glow from under the lids.

  Dipping her head lower in the overgrown grass, Leyna slowly reached for her sword, letting her fingers tightly wrap around the leather bands of the hilt. On Feolan’s command they would have to be ready to attack. Any delay in their actions would allow the enemy recovery from the surprise, negating their advantage. Any moment now. Feolan and Leyna were to go for the commander. The unit would be more vulnerable without their leader.

  Just as the group marched within range of a few feet from Feolan, he gave the call, charging from hiding. Leyna was at his side, her sword drawn before she was even to her feet. The other soldiers leapt from their concealment, moving quickly into t
he mass of bodies scrambling to unsheathe their weapons.

  The idea of killing hadn’t gotten any easier on her conscience. Every slice of her blade sent chills down her spine, the sound of metal cutting through flesh making her ill. Still, she kept moving. Between her and Feolan, the commander fell easily; hardly putting up a fight in the time it took them to wound him beyond saving. With their target fallen, they separated to face the other soldiers, cutting them down one after the other.

  Lost in the frenzy of battle, Leyna paid no attention to time. It always felt like it flew when the attacks started. Adrenaline pumped through every vein, her focus on nothing but the strikes coming at her and determining the point of weakness of her foe. By the time the enemy finally retreated, her hands were sprinkled with the blood of the Namiren. An occasional smear was brushed across her face. She was used to it by now. It was impossible to come out of a battle like this without some stain of her fallen adversaries.

  She looked around calmly, taking a count of the faces from her unit that she could still see standing. Their numbers were in good health. It appeared the surprise attack had been successful.

  Her least favorite part of the battle was the aftermath, walking around the bodies to take note of who had been lost. It was her job now, verifying who was alive and who was dead. She was just grateful she wasn’t the one in charge of notifying the families. That wasn’t something she could handle. It was best left in the hands of the Captain.

  Slowly making her way around the path, she could see numerous corpses, most of which were wearing the Namiren uniform. The scene was bloody and violent, the bodies cut up to the point where identifying them would have been an impossible task… even if she’d known them the way she did her own soldiers. From under the masses, she counted twelve bodies. Several wounded. A sad loss, and yet a good outcome for Siscal. All she could do now was worry about the other units scattered about the mountains.

  There had been only one commander with the enemy unit they ambushed. The intelligence they received warned of multiple. Thade and Laoter were positioned to the east and west, guarding the other trails the Namiren might use. She wouldn’t know the outcome of their battles until they all met back at camp.

  “Blood is a good look for you. Kind of sexy.”

  “Not now, Teagan,” she frowned. How typical of him. His comrades lay dead at his feet and all he can think about was women. There were other females in the unit. Why could he not focus his attention on them?

  “What? We won. Why are you so sour?” He sounded almost annoyed with her for her reaction. She didn’t know what else he could have expected from her. She was busy. The last thing she had time for was avoiding his futile come-ons.

  Sheathing her sword, she turned to face him sternly. “Some of our men are dead. I have to determine who. So I suggest you go direct your after-battle lust at someone else.”

  “Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” Feolan’s voice came from behind her, moving to her side quickly. His expression was hardened, his own face and hands covered in spatters of blood from the fight. At the moment his eyes were set squarely on Teagan – and he looked very displeased.

  “Not at all, sir. I was just advising this soldier to move on.”

  Feolan kept his gaze on Teagan, narrowing his eyes after a moment of silence. Teagan continued to stand there, waiting for Feolan to leave. “I believe your lieutenant gave you an order, soldier. Why are you still standing here?”

  Teagan made no attempts to conceal his irritation with Feolan, snapping to attention with a half-hearted salute. Despite his lack of common sense, even he knew arguing with his commander would be a fool move. He valued his uniform too much to risk it. Feolan remained unmoving until Teagan left them, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I apologize, Leyna. I would have him discharged for his behavior, but regrettably he is one of our better fighters.”

  “His comments are harmless enough,” she shrugged, wiping at a spot of blood on her cheek. “I will only start to care if he ever tries to touch me.”

  “If he lays even a finger on you, he will be dealt with accordingly. Without pardon.” She knew he was serious. It was a well known fact among the men serving under Thade that he didn’t take kindly to any form of mistreatment of the female soldiers. To do so meant dishonoring your name and, depending on the severity, could cost you your life. Only once had she seen a situation that serious in the time she’d been with the unit, but Thade had made good on his promise. No one questioned whether he meant what he said after that.

  Turning to one of the other soldiers nearby, she gave the order for the bodies of their fallen fighters to be gathered up to take back to camp. There were so many corpses of the Namirens, she didn’t want to think about the possibility of moving them. And Feolan made no mention to indicate for them to.

  “Commander, do you think it is possible that another wave might come through?”

  Feolan shook his head. He looked tired. They’d been in the woods since morning, lying in wait of the attack in case it came sooner than anticipated. They were all hungry and exhausted from battle, anxious to return to the comfort of their camp. “It is possible, yes, but General Matias has his men stationed only a few miles down the mountain. If another wave approaches, his fighters will be fresh and well-prepared to handle it.”

  Motioning for one of the other soldiers, she gave the order for them to start moving the other bodies. There was no choice in the matter. To leave them behind placed their entire mission in jeopardy.

  “You’re right, Leyna. I’m not sure what I was thinking.”

  “You were thinking that we are all tired, and I agree,” she sighed, rubbing her temples with her index fingers. “Unfortunately, if you think another wave will come through, then we have to make sure the road is clear. An ambush would be less than surprising if they found an entire unit lying dead in their path.”

  They both went to work helping the soldiers move the fallen fighters, dragging them off into the thicker grass and trees of the woods. As long as they were out of view, that was the important thing.

  It took longer than she expected to get everything cleaned up, counting on the cover of the darkness to hide the blood stains from view on the path. “Well, the good news is that I saw nothing resembling the Ven’shal amongst the corpses,” Leyna smiled slightly. She knew she didn’t know enough about the Ven’shal to be able to pick one out of a crowd, but she did know the Namiren well – and they were the only faces she’d seen amongst the blood.

  “That is reassuring at the very least.” She couldn’t tell if Feolan was being truthful in his statement. His words were comforting, while yet his tone led her to believe he was not convinced they were in the clear. “Thade has already sent a messenger to Tanispa to inform the Queen of the incident that happened here in Velorum. Attacks by them are taken very seriously. It is rare one would be skulking about alone. The most likely truth is that there are at least a handful of others somewhere not far from the town.”

  The thought of that frightened her. She could still feel the painful tug of the man’s hand at her chest, drawing the air from her lungs. She had been too afraid to ask Feolan what had happened to her. Even more, she’d been afraid to ask him what he’d done to reverse it. Everything had been so confusing to her. With the unexpectedness of the attack, she’d had very little time to collect her thoughts and take in what was going on. She reacted by mere reflex – and that reflex would not have been enough to save her if she’d been alone.

  There was nothing else to be said on the matter. She averted her gaze from Feolan’s as they started to make their way back to their horses left deeper into the woods. It would be a long trip back to camp, requiring them to maneuver the uneven ground without the guidance of the path. They had to stay clear of any possible routes the Namiren would be taking.

  Once back in the safety of their camp, Leyna found her way to her tent, not wanting to risk a conversation with Teagan. She had very little patience for his immaturity. It w
as a wonder he even managed to gain acceptance to the unit. After their first scout together, she’d been inducted into the ranks of the soldiers almost immediately, having proven her worth as a fighter. Teagan remained a simple scout for several months afterwards. Feolan and Thade had been testing him, trying to get him to behave less rashly. She didn’t think such a thing was possible.

  Scrubbing at her face with a towel, she removed the last traces of blood from her face and hands. She was exhausted. Her body yearned for sleep, but she didn’t want to let herself drift off until she knew their other units were safe. It was only a matter of time before they would return. She and Feolan were stationed as the first wave ambush. General Matias would be in charge of any further attacks beyond that.

  The uneven ground was still a relief to her aching body as she allowed herself to sink down to it. There had to be something more to life than fighting. She felt like she was capable of so many greater things, and yet the reality was that fighting was all she could do. While the other girls her age were still learning to sew dresses and knit socks and how to curtsy and smile like a lady, she was covered in dirt and blood in a makeshift tent in the middle of nowhere.

  Idly, she positioned her hands together the way Feolan had shown her before while they were in the woods. Curiosity made her wonder if she would be capable of recreating the energy he had pulled forth from her. She was surprised at how quickly the warmth appeared against her skin, the strange tugging and pulling sensation radiating between her palms. Staring in wonder, she could see the soft blue glow starting to build up around her hands, slowly creeping along to envelope each one of her fingers and all the way down to her wrists. Slowly she increased the space between her hands until the blue light extended across her entire body, tingling like a jolt of electricity shooting between her hands to create a circuit.