《Wyrmhaven: A Progression Fantasy Academy Novel》


 Chapter One: Bad Dreams

    Chapter One: Bad Dreams


    Hungry flames ate at the stones, the walls, and the wood, attempting to devour everything like a raging, hungry monster.


    ¡°GIVE HIM TO ME, TAELIA!¡±


    A growling, booming voice like thunder and rock yelled over the flames, which flared up at the sound of the voice.


    ¡°He is not here! You are too late!¡±


    ¡°LIES! I SENSE HIM!¡±


    Putrid yellow and green orbs pierced through the flames. They were eyes, and their malice burned hotter than the fire surrounding them. A beautiful blonde woman stood defiant against those eyes. Her ears were pointed, but her skin was silver and white scales. She wore brilliant armor like a shining star within the darkness and flame.


    In her right hand was a blade of radiant light, a silver-tongued beacon of power that the woman raised up against the eyes. A chuckle that sent shivers down the spine emanated from the surrounding darkness around the eyes.


    A darkness that was not darkness but scales blacker than a starless, moonless night. Like a giant glacier, the darkness moved, and scarlet light built within the darkness before it rushed out like the tide. Blazing fire bathed the woman, but when the flame died, the woman still stood, unburnt.


    ¡°YOUR POWER HAS GROWN, TAELIA. IT WILL NOT BE ENOUGH. GIVE ME THE BABE AND YOUR DEATH WILL BE QUICK.¡±


    In answer, the woman raised her silver sword.


    ¡°Come, betrayer! We shall see who dies this day!¡±


    Away from the fire, the woman, and the malicious eyes, another woman was in a tunnel deep under the now-burning castle. She clutched a small form to her chest and sat astride a huge black horse. She spurred the horse onward, and it began to trot and then run before galloping as fast as it could.


    It was some time before she emerged from the tunnel into a dark forest.


    The great voice roared from behind her, but the woman paid no attention to it. Instead, as if carried on the whispering wind, words stirred the form she clutched to her chest.


    ¡°Ash Lorcan,¡± the words that began as a whisper grew into a gale.


    ¡°ASH LORCAN!¡±


    _____________


    Ash opened his eyes, his hands snapping to his throat, certain his lungs were filled with smoke.


    ¡°Fore¡¯s teeth, boy, you¡¯re sweating like a pig. Calm yourself, and get ready. We have chores to get done.¡±


    His rapid heart slowed at his uncle¡¯s words, and he lowered his hands, forcing himself to take more measured breaths. The air was clean, and there was no smoke at all. He still felt hot all over, like a fire burned inside him. It¡¯s the same every time, he thought.


    Chores? He blinked. Nothing is burning. I¡¯m still in Sarvhall, on the farm.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    He sat up, rubbing his arms; his skin was sweaty and nearly burned at the touch.


    Outside his window, it was still dark, but this had been his life since he was old enough to use his hands, and he knew dawn wasn¡¯t too far off. He pushed himself out of bed, and his uncle¡¯s nose wrinkled.


    ¡°I suggest a shower before you head out, lad.¡±


    Ash opened his mouth, but his uncle raised one of his burly hands,


    ¡°I know, it¡¯s better to take one after, but you reek, boy. Like ashes and rotting wood. Best you take two, eh? I think the scripts can handle it. Go on, now.¡±


    His uncle stood up from the edge of his bed, and he was so big that he took up most of the room, especially with his dark clothes, wool cape, and shepherd staff. He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair, a habit Ash knew he had picked up from the military.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of gathering the feed, but it¡¯s your turn to do the mucking out today.¡±


    His uncle swept his brown eyes over the room, raising an eyebrow. He picked up the basket of rocks near his feet and moved them aside so they were less in the way. Then he picked up a discarded book, raising an eyebrow at his nephew as he held the book.


    ¡°And by Fore¡¯s burly beard, boy, would it kill you to get rid of some of this stuff? Do you need all of those books, eh? Or these rocks?¡±


    Ash rubbed the back of his neck, smiling and lowering his eyes.


    His uncle shook his head,


    ¡°Some things never change. Get to it, boy. Your aunt will have breakfast waiting for us after we¡¯re done. Then, we have the house to get ready for Remembrance Day.¡±


    Ash nodded, and before his uncle left, he paused, muttering something to himself that Ash couldn¡¯t hear. He went to his bathroom. All he had to do was touch the script on the wall under the spigot, and the script along the metal lit up red and blue as water poured out of it in a steady stream.


    He adjusted the heat by running his fingers over the script to the right. The red light responded by glowing ever so brighter than the blue. For not the first time, he wondered how it worked. No one around could explain it to him.


    Only adventurers knew about that sort of thing, and the very few that had passed through Al¡¯Herder farm hadn¡¯t been in the mood to answer a sixteen-year-old¡¯s questions. As the hot water washed away the sweat and stink, he again yearned to travel the world.


    Dominion was a vast continent that had not yet been fully explored, even by the four large kingdoms that covered it.


    Most of all, he yearned to be an adventurer.


    He scrubbed his hair under the water, rolling his neck. Swiping right over the script, the red light completely overpowered the blue now.


    The heat had never bothered him. He had only ever felt hot when he had that dream.


    After his shower, he dressed, not as heavy as his uncle, because the cold rarely bothered him. His shepherd''s staff was a simple piece of wood but comfortable in his hands. Longingly, he looked at the large collection of rocks he had found in his walks on the farm and nearby forest.


    They were all bright, and one of his favorite things was to polish them, placing them one by one into the basket they resided in. His books were unorganized, seemingly thrown on the shelves haphazardly, and many of their pages were bent at the ear.


    I better head out before Uncle Derrick gives me an earful, he thought. Leaving the room, he headed for the sheep pens. The huge pitchfork he used waited for him by the pens. The sheep paid him no mind, not only used to him but used to the authority of the staff.


    He moved them to one side of the pen with the staff, touching them gently with the hook at the end of his staff. If they didn¡¯t listen, he¡¯d get Bruce, the old sheepdog that had been in the family since he was an infant.


    His flock was so well trained that he hardly ever had to worry about it. After moving the sheep, he started on the mucking. It took time, but he had done this job many times. So many times, in fact, he was hardly bothered by the smell anymore.


    He was finished in less than two hours.


    He wiped his brow, watching his breath turn white as it hit the air. Dawn¡¯s light began to play across the farm, and a rooster crowed. He was about to help his uncle with the other chores, and a chilling howl split the air.


    Ash whipped his head around. Wolves? That didn¡¯t make sense. Wolves didn¡¯t just attack out of nowhere.


    But sure enough, he saw several gray forms emerge from the forest, fangs bared.


    They were headed right for him and the sheep, a wild light in their eyes.


    His hands tightened on his pitchfork, and his heart began to hammer on the anvil of his ribs.

 Chapter Two: Lost Sheep

    Chapter Two: Lost Sheep


    High-pitched fearful bleats cut through the air, mixing with the snarls of the oncoming wolves. The sheep were well trained, but no matter how well trained they might be, their fear overpowered it. They pressed against the wooden pen, and while his uncle had used good, strong wood to build the fence, there were more than twenty sheep in that pen, all struggling, pressing, to get out.


    The wood cracked like lightning from the open sky, and the sheep fled, with wolves pursuing gray blurs and flashing fangs. Ash looked on, fingers tightening around his pitchfork; he rushed forward to defend the sheep.


    His heart was attempting to claw its way out of his chest. He struck with the pitchfork, awkwardly catching a snarling wolf on the flank. It yelped, but Ash achieved little with his attack, not even piercing the skin.


    ¡°No!¡± He yelled as another wolf bit into the heels of a sheep, going for its throat when it stumbled.


    Like a slashed tomato, liquid squirted from the animal¡¯s throat, smearing its white fluff and the dirt beneath it. Ash tried again to attack the wolf, his vision narrowing and throat constricting as he felt everything heighten.


    The wolf dodged the poor excuse for a weapon, its eyes gleaming with unmasked madness, and lashed out at him.


    He tried to dodge, but he tripped, falling on his butt. He skidded back as the wolf went for the kill, bearing down on him. He tried to get the pitchfork between them, but it slipped out of his fingers, so instead, he crossed his arms over his face.


    I¡¯m going to die here; the thought made him cry out as he was unable to contain the fear.


    He felt heat and sharp pain in his arm as the snarling wolf bit into his arm, drops of saliva coating his face. At that moment, all that existed was the blood running from his wound, the growling of the monster wolf trying to kill him, and the pain like a thousand needles plunging into his arm.


    Then, suddenly, it was gone. The wolf was hefted off of him and thrown away. His uncle was there, looking far different than Ash had ever seen him.


    He no longer held a shepherd''s staff but a sword gleaming in the morning light. Uncle Derrick wielded it like a hero from the adventure novels Ash loved to read. His footing was sure, and his bearing was confident. He flowed like river water as the snarling wolf leaped at him, and the razor-sharp blade cut the wolf open from jaw to tail.


    Hot, stinking viscera fell to the ground in a steaming pile, the wolf¡¯s corpse falling to the ground with a thud.


    Ash clutched at his arm, blood coating his fingers.


    ¡°Uncle, watch out!¡±


    But the warning was unnecessary; Uncle Derrick was already moving, ending the second wolf¡¯s life as easily as the first.


    Ash¡¯s jaw fell in awe as his uncle moved as fast as a free-flowing stream, killing another wolf. That should have sent them running, Ash was sure. Wolves didn¡¯t keep attacking over and over like this. But they normally didn¡¯t attack in the open and in the light of day like this, either.


    Two more attacked his uncle, but it did the predators no good. Uncle Derrick didn¡¯t just move like water; he fully embodied the element, and the wolves could not touch him.


    In his books, Ash had read about adventurers who could control water so precisely that they could use the element like a blade. This wasn¡¯t one of his books, but his Uncle lashed out just like one of those storybook adventurers wielding water like a weapon.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    No matter how many came at him, the wolves didn¡¯t have a chance. When he was surrounded by six dead wolves, steaming piles of blood and guts, Uncle Derrick relaxed his stance.


    He was barely breathing hard.


    His brown eyes swept around, scanning for more threats. When he was satisfied, Uncle Derrick grunted. He turned to Ash, his eyes landing on the bloody gash in his arm.


    ¡°We need to get that looked at. Come on, boy, close your mouth and go see your aunt. Get that wound tended to.¡±


    Ash gaped for a second or two before slowly closing his mouth and shaking his head.


    ¡°How? What?¡±


    ¡°No questions now, lad. Go on before you pass out from blood loss.¡±


    Uncle Derrick looked into the forest, turning his lips downward into a frown, his eyes gaining a troubled shadow.


    ¡°Something¡¯s not right here. Not right at all,¡± Ash barely caught the muttered words as he stood up.


    ¡°But, Uncle, what about the sheep?¡±


    Derrick waved a hand,


    ¡°Go. I don¡¯t want you in the forest just now. I¡¯ll be retrieving them. If you really want to help, you can help your aunt around the house after your wound is seen to. Guests will be arriving in a few hours.¡±


    With that, his Uncle turned, striding into the forest, fingers tightening around the hilt of the sword he held.


    Ash watched him go, still bleeding and still in pain; he went inside to see his aunt.


    _________


    ¡°What happened, dear? Slip and fall?¡±


    Ash shook his head,


    ¡°No, Auntie. Wolves attacked. The sheep got out of the pen and fled into the forest. Uncle Derrick killed some of the wolves; he had a sword! He used it like a real adventurer! Did you know he could do that?¡±


    Aunt Dara furrowed her brows,


    ¡°Wolves? Speak plain, dear, start at the beginning.¡±


    Ash laid out the story, and Aunt Dara tended to his wound as he did. First, she cleaned it, causing him to wince, and then she wrapped it in a clean bandage she pulled from a healing kit she kept in the kitchen above the cooling box.


    When Ash finished recounting his tale, Aunt Dara merely looked troubled, her storm-gray eyes looking out the window. Almost absently, she tugged on her silver-white braid.


    ¡°Wolves don¡¯t attack like that,¡± she stated.


    Ash shrugged,


    ¡°But they did. Did you miss the part where Uncle Derrick had a sword? Did you know he had a sword, Auntie?¡±


    She waved a hand before smoothing her brown apron,


    ¡°Never mind the sword, dear. We have a lot to be about. We can start with prepping the food to be cooked. Do you think you can handle a knife without cutting yourself again, hmm?¡±


    Ash nodded before getting to work.


    ¡°Did Uncle Derrick always have a sword?¡±


    Aunt Dara paused in peeling a potato.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to let this go, are you?¡±


    Even as she asked the question, her eyes held a hint of amusement, her matronly features wry.


    Ash rubbed the back of his neck,


    ¡°Come on, Auntie, please tell me?¡±


    He gave her a pleading look. The same look he used when he was small.


    Aunt Dara threw her head back, rich laughter pouring from her throat. Ash grinned, knowing he would be getting an explanation out of her now.


    She shook her head before returning to peeling potatoes as she spoke.


    ¡°It¡¯s no great mystery, dear. Your uncle served in the king¡¯s army. All soldiers pick up some swordplay in their service.¡±


    Ash¡¯s jaw dropped for a second time that morning,


    ¡°How come no one told me?¡±


    Aunt Dara sighed, laying down the peeler. Her voice hardened just a bit.


    ¡°You need to understand something, Ash, my dear. The world is not one of your fantasy novels. Soldiering is dangerous, and when it¡¯s wartime¡­¡± Aunt Dara closed her eyes and breathed.


    ¡°It¡¯s one thing to fight monsters. That¡¯s horrifying, but it¡¯s a whole new level when you¡¯re killing other men. We don¡¯t talk about it because your uncle doesn¡¯t like to remember that time.¡±


    Ash nodded, but the explanation didn¡¯t quite kill his excitement.


    ¡°Do you think he¡¯d teach me, Uncle, I mean?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d have to ask him; I might have said he would be against the idea¡­but you might need to know how to defend yourself now.¡±


    Ash lapsed into his work as he allowed his mind to wander, imagining the epic training sessions he would have with his uncle and all the wolves he¡¯d fend off with a shining blade.


    They worked several hours prepping food, cleaning, and decorating the large farmhouse. Furniture was pushed aside, and even with his wounded arm, Ash whistled as he worked.


    ¡°Someone¡¯s excited,¡± Aunt Dara observed.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s Remembrance Day!¡±


    ¡°Mm. Which means the story, of course.¡±


    ¡°Am I that predictable?¡±


    Aunt Dara laughed again,


    ¡°Dear, you¡¯re sixteen. Of course, you¡¯re predictable. I think you¡¯d be tired of hearing the story by now. But come now, there¡¯s another reason for your joyful mood, isn¡¯t there? Rosalia will be here. ¡±


    He was about to reply, his face heating up, when he heard the trotting of horses and voices outside.


    Guests had finally arrived, and Remembrance Day was just about to start.

 Chapter Three: Remembrance Day

    <u>Chapter Three: Remembrance Day</u>


    Ash greeted the guests at the door with a smile on his face. Aunt Dara would give him a thorough tongue-lashing if he didn¡¯t act like a proper host. The first to enter was, in fact, Rosalia. She was Ash¡¯s age, and his heart quickened when he looked at her.


    Her ears poked through her wavy hair, reminding him of a sunset¡¯s dying light. Her ears and lovely, near-perfect heart-shaped features made her an elf. He only thought her features were near perfect because she had a smattering of freckles across her nose.


    He liked that most about her; it grounded her beauty and made her more real. Her blue eyes sparkled like stars in the night sky, lighting up when they landed on him.


    ¡°Ash!¡± She hugged him in a tight embrace that he hoped would never end.


    She was wearing forest green riding clothes, and they fit rather well, Ash thought, his face heating up yet again.


    ¡°Rosalia, it¡¯s good to see you. Here, sir, let me help you with your bags!¡±


    Rosalia¡¯s father, a huge human man with chestnut hair and an impressive beard across his chest, had come in behind his daughter, setting down a few bags.


    He grunted, allowing Ash to pick them up and take them to the guest rooms. Rosalia followed him as he did.


    ¡°Your Aunt Dara did an excellent job on the decorations! These are beautiful!¡±


    She stopped by a pot of white campion flowers dominating a small table. Reaching out a hand, she caressed the flower with an adoring smile.


    ¡°Yeah, we had to go Deharra for them. There¡¯s a script on the pot that preserves them. But, you know how we need white flowers on Remembrance Day, and not many are around the farm.¡±


    Rosalia nodded, looking at the other decorations.


    The whole room was decorated in white, with tablecloths, paintings, and even scripted lamps burning like white flames. It was just enough not to be too much.


    The next room was the dining room, and the massive table was also decorated with white, down to the silverware. Beyond this room was the living room, and the story would be told there by the fireplace.


    ¡°Are you looking forward to the story?¡± Ash asked as they walked up the stairs to the guest room.


    Rosalia shrugged,


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing new. It¡¯s the same old boring story. I would much rather hear about the Nythum or the Ir¡¯Aegra.¡±


    Ash pushed open the door, setting the bags down by the closet. He turned to Rosalia,


    ¡°But Amalia tells it so well!¡±


    He had to admit that she did have a point. It would be nice to hear something else every once in a while. But it was Remembrance Day, and the story was a part of it. Not hearing it or changing the story that was told seemed¡­wrong somehow.


    Rosalia raised a hand,


    ¡°She does, but it¡¯s still the same story, no matter how well it is told.¡±


    They left the room, and she asked,


    ¡°Do you still have that rock collection?¡±


    Ash shifted his eyes,


    ¡°Umm¡­¡±


    She giggled,


    ¡°It¡¯s okay to have a hobby, you know!¡±


    He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as she laughed.


    ¡°Oh no, what happened?¡±


    He turned to see what she meant and found her looking at the white campion, shock writ on her features. He saw why right away.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The flowers were dead. Every single one had wilted and turned black


    ¡°How?¡±


    He shook his head, bending down to look at the pot base. The script still seemed to be working, and he could not do anything if it were broken. Adventurers knew scripts, not ordinary shepherds like him.


    But the faint blue light was still there, so as near as he could tell, it was doing what it should be.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go tell my aunt Dara. She¡¯ll want to replace these.¡±


    Voices filtered through the entryway as Rosalia and Ash neared.


    ¡°Brought all the sheep back, but there¡¯s somethin¡¯ wrong in that forest. All the animals¡­they¡¯ve gone wild. Even the sheep didn¡¯t want to mind.¡±


    Uncle Derrick turned to regard Ash and Rosalia as they appeared.


    Uncle Derrick grunted,


    ¡°See, your Aunt Dara patched you up. That¡¯s good, boy.¡±


    Rosalia looked over, brow furrowing, then her eyes widened,


    ¡°You¡¯re hurt! I¡¯m so sorry, Ash, I didn¡¯t even notice.¡±


    He rubbed his face, hoping she wouldn¡¯t see his skin turn red,


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± he muttered.


    Uncle Derrick winked at him, shaking Rosalia¡¯s father¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Always a pleasure to see ya, Court. I need to get cleaned up for tonight if you¡¯ll excuse me. Oh, and you¡¯re looking lovely as ever, young lady.¡±


    Uncle Derrick walked past them as the tips of Rosalia¡¯s ears went pink, and she shifted her right boot.


    As the day passed, more people began to arrive, many of whom were families from nearby farms and the village of Dahara, a few hours'' ride away.


    Children began to skip, play, and sing a rhyme outside.


    ¡°Oh, twelve dark lords on dragons ride,


    With purple smoke and spooky pride.


    Their dragons twist, their hearts gone bad,


    They make the flowers droop and sad.


    Where wild light flashes and skies turn gray,


    They laugh and chase the sun away.


    Dead flowers fall, and trees don¡¯t play,


    The Ir¡¯Aegra¡¯s near¡ªdon¡¯t stay!


    They hum a tune, a creeping sound,


    Their shadow crawls along the ground.


    So run, run fast, don¡¯t stay too long,


    Or you¡¯ll join their scary song!


    So sing and skip, but watch the night,


    The Ir¡¯Aegra hide from lantern light.


    When purple smoke begins to swirl,


    Stay inside, good girl or boy!¡±


    He had heard the rhyme before, long ago. Something about it nagged at him, and he stared for a few long moments at the children as they skipped and sang it again.


    ¡°Always found that light-cursed rhyme to be creepy.¡±


    The baritone was deep, with an accent he never could place.


    He turned, finding exactly who he expected to find to have come up beside him.


    Nicholas Al¡¯Smith was a short, stocky dwarf with skin like polished ebony and hair as dark as painted twilight. Despite his mother''s prodding to dress appropriately on Remembrance Day, he always wore the same clothing, no matter the occasion.


    A dark shirt tucked into dark jeans and a white smith¡¯s smock over it. At his side was a large hammer he never left home without. His father always liked to say that his boy was born with a hammer in his hand.


    With how Nicholas treated the tool, Ash didn¡¯t doubt the story''s validity.


    ¡°Good to see you, Nick.¡±


    Nick waved a hand,


    ¡°If Pa didn¡¯t give me so much Hero-cursed work, I¡¯d visit more often.¡±


    Ash winced slightly,


    ¡°Far be it for me to judge, Nick, but do you have to blaspheme?¡±


    Nick laughed, looking up and spreading his hands.


    ¡°Why? Do you think the Light will smite me? Come on then, smite me down, o¡¯great Light!¡±


    Ash¡¯s mouth fell open halfway, expecting the Light to do just that.


    No bolt of lightning struck his friend.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bad idea to mock the Light, Nick.¡±


    ¡°Bah! What has the Light ever done for us, eh Ash?¡±


    ¡°The Bore¡­¡±


    ¡°Ha! The Bore! Who even knows if the Light made that eyesore, hmm?¡±


    Ash flicked his gaze to the north. Hanging there, as it always did, and Light willing, always would, was what looked like a giant black line in the sky. He had always thought it was like a cosmic zipper.


    Nick sighed,


    ¡°Never mind. I¡¯m sorry I argued. We don¡¯t see each other much, and the first thing I do is argue with you. I¡¯m a Lighting fool.¡±


    Ash put a hand on his friend¡¯s shoulder,


    ¡°No, you aren¡¯t. I¡¯m the one who made a big deal out of it. Hey, let¡¯s go inside; Amalia should be here soon.¡±


    Nick grunted, and they went inside.


    _________


    When Amalia Vane arrived, everyone knew it.


    She was the storyteller and lived just outside the village of Dahara. Dressed in fine black and violet robes, her face was as pale as moonlight, and her eyes shone like amethysts on a clear day.


    She was slender but walked with the confidence and strength of an adventurer. Her hood was pulled up, but the one time he had seen her with it down, her hair was like dark ocean waves.


    She always had eyes for Ash when she visited, as if her violet eyes could read every thought that popped into his mind. When he was younger, he had tested the theory once, looking at her and thinking she was beautiful.


    She had smiled at him!


    He was embarrassed to admit that he had quickly retreated to his room after that.


    Now, as she had every Remembrance Day past, she was here again. In her hands was a staff of purest light, with strange engravings etched into the wood.


    At one point, he had asked her what the engravings were, as they didn¡¯t look like any script he had ever seen.


    All she would say was that they were,


    ¡°A gift.¡±


    Amalia talked for a while, and then everyone sat down for the evening''s meal, filling the table to bursting with foods of all kinds. Aunt Dara had cooked it all; however, everyone helped set it on the table.


    After the meal, everyone packed into the living room, some having to stand at the farthest edges.


    Amalia stood before the fire, reaching up and slowly pulling down her hood, her black hair spilling. The firelight made her silken hair shine like polished obsidian, a rock he had read about in one of his books and hoped to see in person one day.


    She lifted her white staff, and the fire dimmed, dark shadows engulfed the room.


    It was time for her to deliver the story of Remembrance.

 Chapter Four: The Story

    Chapter Four: The Story


    ¡°In the beginning, there was Light and Shadow.¡±


    Amalia¡¯s voice was a soft caress that carried to the ears of everyone on unseen and unfelt winds. As she spoke, a white ball of Light bloomed in the darkness, bathing the room in brilliance. But the shadows were not banished. Instead, they seemed to intensify, becoming almost tangible.


    ¡°It is in the Light¡¯s nature to create, and so it did. Dominion was born.¡±


    There was a pulse from the ball of white that floated in the middle of the darkness. From it flowed land, a transparent, brilliant image of white blanketing most of the room. Some of the children, their eyes wide with wonder, reached up tiny hands to clutch at the image, their wonderment growing as their hands passed through it.


    Amalia¡¯s voice grew even softer, the sliding whisper of a blade on cloth.


    ¡°It is in the Shadow¡¯s nature to slowly corrupt and consume all. So it did, spreading across the land.¡±


    The shadows began encroaching on the land, causing thick veins of shadow to bulge within it, eventually shattering the image into shards of white.


    ¡°Desiring to protect its creation, the Light formed guardians from its substance. Tasked with beating back the Shadow.¡±


    Splitting off from it, smaller orbs of light rushed forward, causing the shadows to recoil from them.


    ¡°Thus free to create, the Light formed the waters and the skies. It made the sun and the moon. So it was that night and day was created.¡±


    A brilliant orange, pink, and red ball blazed over the land. After some time, it faded, replaced by a pale orb, full and soft, pulling and calling to the waters below.


    ¡°The Light desired to create something more like itself, beings who could appreciate his creations. It made the dragons.¡±


    A roar filled the air, and many jerked or cried out. Large creatures sprawled over the land, with brilliant scales of every shade and broad wings that beat at the air. They breathed fire into the air.


    ¡°Still, the Light was not satisfied. Something was missing. It created the first people, eternal and beyond mortal beauty.¡±


    Some males and other females began to pop up on the land. They raised their hands, swaying.


    ¡°Much to the Light¡¯s delight and shock, its creation created something of itself¡ªthe first songs. So the Light named them the Lyrlalae, or the Singers. It gifted their music with a power to create, to shape all its own.¡±


    Pushing their hands forward, the figures began to weave, motes of light puffing from their mouths. Trees, grass, rocks, mountains, and more began to sprout from the land. Raising their heads to the sky, stars began to dot the night sky.


    Amalia¡¯s voice turned soft and sharp once more.


    ¡°But the Shadow was not yet done. It was an insidious thing, and it began to seep into the Lights guardians, twisting their substance into something darker.¡±


    Twisted, dark, monstrous things that defied explanation began crawling over the Light¡¯s creation. Children cried out, clutching at their parents.


    Off to the side, Ash saw Nick roll his eyes.


    ¡°These dark creatures ate away at the land, consuming all they came across, their once pure purpose distorted into a perverted thing.¡±


    A dragon cried out, consumed by the dark creatures.


    The Singers looked worried. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°The Light went to the Singers and tasked them with creating a prison. Using their powerful voices, they created a world separate from Dominion. The Nevervare.¡±


    A world of utter black formed opposite of the vast land.


    ¡°Working with the Singers, the Light imprisoned the creatures within. But now he lacked guardians to defend what he had made, so the Light kept the Shadow at bay itself, in tandem with the remaining guardians.¡±


    The great orb floated into the darkness, surrounded by the other small orbs; the Shadow could not overcome them.


    ¡°For a time, there was peace, and a strange thing happened. From the waters came lifeforms. Those lifeforms evolved over the eons, and the mortal races began to walk the earth. Men, elves, dwarves, and Visenium. They began to roam across the land, building, growing, and changing as time marched on.¡±


    Buildings, villages, and society began to spread across the land.


    ¡°Through this time, Shadow had become dimmer and dimmer, but something strange happened. As Shadow dimmed, so too did the Light. It was with this that the Light understood. Neither force could exist without the other. For Light to exist, there must be Shadow, with the reverse also being true.¡±


    We all watched Shadow and Light dimmed, with the Light¡¯s creations beginning to warp as the Light slowly faded.


    ¡°Knowing that Shadow would corrupt and consume all if it stopped, it proposed Shadow. They would work through proxies. Should Shadow win, Light would leave all it had created to Shadow. Should Light win, Shadow would recede and cease its consumption of Light¡¯s creations. Shadow agreed. It was with this pact that the conflict began.¡±


    Light pulled away from Shadow, its guardians vanishing.


    ¡°The Light returned to its creation, finding that its newly born people had warred with the dragons, and the Singers had vanished. Dismayed, it went to the mortals and explained the coming conflict. It brought peace to the war through a pact between mortals and dragons. So, the Dragon Lords were formed. They flew the skies, slaying monsters and maintaining peace through Dominion. From among them, the Light chose an avatar to dwell within.¡±


    ¡°The Hero of Light!¡± A child cried out in excitement.


    Amalia smiled slightly at the young girl,


    ¡°Indeed. The Hero of Light united the mortal world. But the Shadow was not to be outdone. It tempted and corrupted mortals, turning them to its purposes. One of these was a great wild dragon. Shadow dwelled within it, corrupted creatures of the land, giving birth to kobolds and other fearsome creatures.¡±


    Lizard-like monsters sprouted up, and a massive dragon, black, twisted, and cold like Shadow, rose, a colossal army before it.


    ¡°The mortal world prepared. Building siege engines, advancing their magicks, shoring up defenses.¡±


    A dark, visible wind, colder than a winter storm, passed through the land, settling over it like a chilling weight of unseen monsters.


    ¡°A war was coming. A war unlike any this world has ever seen since.¡±


    That colossal army began to march across the land, razing everything it could and killing all it found. The image before them undulated, fear and despair radiating over them all.


    Fear was writ on every face.


    But the armies of Light rode out to meet the coming tide of Shadow.


    The Hero of Light was flying on a great white dragon, blade raised high.


    ¡°The Hero of Light brought forth his armies, and the clash of these epic forces was so great the world shuddered.¡±


    At her words, the image vibrated, threatening to tear itself apart.


    ¡°No one knows how long the war lasted; it is said to have been eons. Others claim it was hours. But no one disputes how it ended. The great dragon, the Evil One, had been defeated. The Light had won.¡±


    On the battlefield, the armies of Light cheered, raising weapons high. The Hero of Light stood proud, his great white dragon raising its head, sending a burst of brilliant white flame from its maw into the sky.


    ¡°But the Shadow would not relent, for it was a sore loser. It refused to honor the agreement.¡±


    A mass of Shadow erupted from the fallen dragon, gathering itself into a massive ball, ready to consume all.


    On the field, the Hero of Light shook his head.


    ¡°The Hero of Light had known this was possible, so it had prepared for this. Raising his hand, he cast a great magick.¡±


    The gathered ball of Shadow and the dragon it had resided in rose into the air and shoved through space and time with a mighty push and a burst of light. It was pushed so hard that it was shoved outside of it.


    ¡°The Light had created this place outside of creation, and in the Shadow weakened defeated state, the Hero could seal the Shadow there. But it had a cost.¡±


    Stumbling, the Hero of Light fell to his knees, the great dragon slumping beside him. His armies gathered around him, looking horrified. The Hero of Light held out a hand.


    ¡°Without Shadow, there can be no Light. This remains true of great magic such as this. Such a thing requires sacrifice. One the Hero was glad to pay, for so he had come to love his people and the world the Light had made, he gave his life and the life of his dragon for it.¡±


    The Hero of Light collapsed.


    He was dead.


    Sobs could be heard throughout the room.


    Amalia¡¯s voice turned soft, reverent,


    ¡°From that day on, the armies carried this story. They have passed it down through their families, carrying it from generation to generation. We have come to know it by one name.¡±


    Here, the storyteller paused, and then the fire roared in the fireplace, lighting up like a beacon that bathed the room in a jubilant glow.


    ¡°Remembrance Day.¡±


    No one spoke for several moments.


    Slowly, someone began to clap, and others followed; the whole room erupted in applause.


    At precisely that moment, the door burst open, shattering into splinters.


    That¡¯s when the screaming began.

 Chapter Five: IrAegra

    Chapter Five: Ir¡¯Agera


    Screeching cries like nails on a chalkboard mixed with the scream to create a cacophony of horror and chaos. Ash looked around, backing up. He saw Uncle Derrick stand, and he yelled loudly over the noise,


    ¡°Everyone! Hear me! Go out the back! Do not run! But be quick! Move!¡±


    Amalia stepped forward, staff in hand, to meet a creature out of a nightmare. It was the size of a large dog, standing upright, with puss-colored scales, beady eyes like mud balls, and an elongated snout that opened to reveal rows of fangs. It wielded a crude spear and was dressed in tattered leather.


    It lashed out with a cry at Amalia, who calmly batted the attack away, moved her body like flowing water, and swept the monster¡¯s legs out from under it.


    With a sharp jab, the end of her staff sank into its eye with a sickening, slick, moist sound. Green slime burst forth, and the creature thrashed, screeching horribly before going still.


    As Amalia engaged the monster, the people began to leave, children being swept up into their parents¡¯ arms.


    Before Ash could follow, Amalia¡¯s voice, colder than the frigid waters of a lake, stopped him.


    ¡°Ash, with me.¡±


    ¡°But..¡±


    Her violet eyes hardened, and Ash swallowed his words. He pulled at Rosalia, standing stalk still like an ice sculpture. She shook herself, looking around before following him.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± She asked, her brows furrowing with worry, her hands shaking.


    ¡°Follow, but not too closely,¡± was all Amalia said.


    They went outside, and Ash cried out.


    All of the sheep were dead¡ªa bloody mass of white and shredded skin. Wolves howled in the distance as creatures like the one Amalia had just killed flooded the area.


    A roar echoed through the land, so grotesque that Ash shivered at hearing it.


    ¡°No..¡± Amalia whispered to herself.


    A shadow descended over the farm, and stygian fire fell from the sky in a wave that ate at the land, burning the stables and fields in dark purple.


    Descending, Ash¡¯s mouth fell open as he realized the massive shadow was a monster. Great wings folded against a serpentine body, scales painted midnight blue shone in the moonlight. Its angular head had two great black horns curling from it, and its eyes were glittering rubies, reflecting the blood and fire around them.


    A man slid down from the creature.


    He wore dark clothes, a blade-like crushed pearls, and silver light in his hands. His features were a distorted version of a warrior king, and his skin was dark mahogany. His eyes were cinder orbs, and a cruel smile curled his lips as he stalked forward. His hair was the precise shade of the scales on the creature behind him. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°Stay behind me, children,¡± Amalia said firmly, standing tall.


    ¡°No, Amalia, take them and go.¡±


    Ash turned, eyes widening. Uncle Derrick walked up, looking broken and haggard.


    ¡°Uncle Derrick? What happened?¡±


    Tears were streaming calmly from his eyes as he stared at the man walking toward them.


    ¡°Dara is dead. Those creatures were waiting for us behind the house. Like they knew we¡¯d go that way. Villagers are scattered, being chased down by those things.¡±


    He pointed,


    ¡°Go, Amalia. Take the kids. Leave this one to me.¡±


    Amalia shook her head,


    ¡°He will kill you.¡±


    Derrick smiled grimly,


    ¡°Yes. But he¡¯ll have to earn it. We knew this day would come. I knew something was off, but I ignored the signs.¡±


    Derrick looked over at Ash; something he couldn¡¯t identify was in his Uncle¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°I love you, lad. Always have. Now go, get out of here. Save who you can.¡±


    ¡°Uncle, no!¡± Ash screamed. Rosalia began to cry.


    Amalia stared at Derrick for a moment and then took a breath.


    ¡°Hail, warrior.¡± She said softly.


    His Uncle Derrick stood straighter, and he pulled his sword from somewhere Ash couldn¡¯t see. He walked forward to meet the cinder-eyed man.


    ¡°An old soldier,¡± the man muttered.


    ¡°But not the one.¡±


    His cruel smile grew, and he lifted his blade.


    Amalia gestured at them,


    ¡°Let¡¯s go. Move!¡± She hissed.


    Ash didn¡¯t want to leave his Uncle, but he was swept along.


    Away from the burning farm.


    Away from his Uncle, who raised his blade, blurring toward the dark figure like a rushing wave.


    Blood painted the air. His Uncle¡¯s body fell to the ground.


    Ash cried out as they ran.


    And ran.


    ____________


    He had no idea how long they ran, but they heard a cry of fury some miles away.


    ¡°Get away from me, you light-fucked lizards!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Nick!¡± Ash called, pointing down the road.


    Sure enough, his stout dwarven friend was waving his hammer about at three of the lizard-like creatures who hissed and clicked their tongues at him, spears at the ready.


    Amalia held out a hand for them to stay, and a feint violet glow surrounded her as she moved like a dark bolt, white staff flashing.


    Ash had no idea what happened.


    It wasn¡¯t even a fight. Amalia¡¯s form was a shadowy blur of violet and white, and suddenly, the monsters were dead, Nick standing there with his hammer and mouth open.


    ¡°Wow. Right then, the storyteller is a fucking badass. Who would have guessed that one, eh?¡±


    He slipped his hammer back into his belt, nodding to Amalia.


    ¡°My thanks, storyteller.¡±


    Amalia flicked a hand,


    ¡°You should follow us. We are leaving.¡±


    Nick shook his head,


    ¡°Not until I check on Will. These things¡­¡± Ash saw him swallow, looking away,


    ¡°They speared my Ma¡¯. Will couldn¡¯t make it tonight, his Pa is sick. I¡¯m going to check on them.¡±


    His voice was firm.


    Amalia shook her head,


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, child, but he¡¯s dead. Better you come with us.¡±


    Ash planted his feet,


    ¡°You can¡¯t know that.¡±


    The storyteller turned to look at him, and Ash found it hard to continue. But he did.


    ¡°You can¡¯t know that he¡¯s dead. We should look. Will is a friend, and if you don¡¯t go, I am.¡±


    Rosalia still looked scared, but the red-haired girl nodded,


    ¡°Me too.¡±


    Amalia sighed, but her staff grinding into the dirt.


    ¡°Children, make no mistake, I can make you come with me.¡±


    Ash crossed his arms, a familiar stubbornness coming over him.


    ¡°Yeah? How easy is that? Dragging three unwilling kids along with you, screaming and making a fuss. It¡¯s much easier for you to look with us. Besides, you aren¡¯t our parent.¡±


    A dark look crossed her eyes,


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not. I¡¯m just the one who saved you. But fine, you are right that expending the energy to force you is unwise. We will see if young Will is alive.¡±


    Nick¡¯s face relaxed, his relief evident.


    ¡°Thank you. Come on, it¡¯s not far.¡±


    Ash had visited Will¡¯s farm before, and they all had. They walked at a quick pace.


    Will¡¯s farm was on fire, with purple smoke rising into the sky.


    The lizard monsters hissed at a tree. On a high branch, Will stood, a bow in his hands.


    He fired an arrow, and it pierced a lizard creature¡¯s chest.


    ¡°Back ya filthy monsters! Or ya¡¯ll get another arrow, I swear it!¡±


    ¡°Thank the Light, he¡¯s fucking alive!¡± Nick whooped.


    Amalia growled,


    ¡°You idiot child!¡±


    The monsters turned from the tree and set their malicious sights on the group.


    ¡°Well, fuck.¡± Nick muttered.

 Chapter Six: Stab

    <u>Chapter Six: Stab</u>


    Amalia spoke calmly into the night air,


    ¡°Try and stay back. You may have to fight, as there are many, and I am one.¡±


    With that, she moved like lightning from the open sky. From his perch on the tree, Will shot arrows at the lizard monsters that charged toward the group.


    ¡°Fight? We can¡¯t fight those..those¡­things.¡± Rosalia stammered out.


    Nick hefted his hammer,


    ¡°These things killed my Ma; I¡¯m getting a little bit of vengeance.¡± His voice was as hard as granite, his eyes attempting to stare holes into the creatures that rushed toward them, spears held high.


    Ash attempted to swallow the lump of fear that had built up in his throat.


    These things killed my Aunt and Uncle.


    The thought descended like the Light itself.


    Why was he afraid? He should be angry! When the monsters had attacked his home, slaughtered the only family he had ever known, killed his friends, and burned his farm, he had done nothing.


    When wolves attacked the sheep, he acted, but when a monster out of stories appeared, he cowered? Is that who I am?


    Chilly anger shot through his veins, and suddenly, he wanted payback, too.


    ¡°Hey, Nick. Do you still keep that knife on you?¡±


    Nick glanced over at him, and the dwarf grunted, reaching to his belt, unsheathing the small knife he had kept, and handing it to Ash.


    Ash nodded, and Rosalia looked between them.


    ¡°You can¡¯t seriously be thinking of fighting them? Just let Miss Amalia handle it, look!¡±


    She pointed at the storyteller, who was a whirlwind of death for the monsters. Two of the creatures were still nearing them every passing second, and Amalia showed no signs of helping them.


    ¡°Look alive, you three!¡± Will bellowed to them from his place on the tree.


    He tried to shoot an arrow at the lizard creatures, but it fell short, and he cursed.


    That chill in his veins intensified, and he found himself speaking,


    ¡°I think our best chance is to split them up. Rosalia, pick up that rock there. You don¡¯t have to fight, but you¡¯ll need to be ready if one gets past us.¡±


    Rosalia took a shuddering breath, quickly snatching up the rock, fumbling it for a moment before holding it close and backing farther away.


    The biggest threat to their lives was the spears the creatures held.


    They neared the group, and Ash readied the knife in his hands. It wasn''t huge, a hunting knife, but he held it firm and prayed to the Light he wouldn¡¯t cut himself.


    Nick gripped his hammer and bellowed at the creature nearest to him,


    ¡°Come at me, you Light cursed ugly stain!¡±


    The monster obliged, and Nick rolled away from it as it attacked with a jab from its spear.


    ¡°What he said!¡± Ash yelled at the other monster.


    He didn¡¯t have time to lament his choice of battle cries as the lizard thing attacked him.


    He found it easy enough to move out of the way of the jab. He wasn¡¯t a combat expert, and his heart beat like thunderclaps on a stormy night, but the monster seemed relatively slow.


    He dodged another jab as the creatures hissed and made clicking noises at him. Then he counter-attacked with a high slash of his knife. It felt like trying to cut into a tough bit of meat. Green blood spit out of the wound, and some of it got onto his hand. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    It was hot, wet, and sticky, like saliva.


    The monster howled, trying to jab him again. In trying to dodge, Ash tripped over his feet, falling to the ground with a muted thud, pain blossoming in his rear. The knife flew out of his hands, landing a little from him.


    He backed up quickly toward it, knowing he needed the weapon if he wanted to live.


    The creature hissed, raising the spear, which gleamed dangerously in the moon¡¯s light. This was it. I¡¯m going to die here, was all he could think.


    Until a rock smashed into the lizard creature¡¯s face.


    It screeched, and Ash dove for the knife. Picking it up, he plunged it into the monster''s hand that covered its eye where the rock had hit.


    Blood gushed as if from a scripted showerhead, but Ash didn¡¯t stop. He rode the creature to the ground, stabbing relentlessly.


    Uncle Derrick looked at him with that strange light in his eyes. What had that been? Aunt Dara, who he didn¡¯t even get to say goodbye to.


    Blazing flames and a shadowy creature.


    Stab.


    Stab.


    Stab.


    Someone was screaming? Was that him?


    ¡°Ash! It''s dead, Ash! Enough!¡±


    Rosalia was pulling at him, trying to get him to stop as he brought the knife down over and over again.


    He was screaming and sobbing at the same time. The monster beneath him was unrecognizable.


    Just green, brown, and pink mush. He was covered in green blood, hot, sticky, and stinking like rotten fruit.


    He didn¡¯t care.


    Will and Amalia walked up. The storyteller watched him, her face expressionless.


    Will Al¡¯Seen was a tall boy with a mop of black hair and bronze skin from working in the sun. He normally wore a mischievous smile. His brown tunic, black trousers, and boots were caked with dirt. The scent of smoke hung about him, and his bow was slung over his shoulder.


    His brown eyes were grim.


    ¡°So it happened to you all, too.¡± A statement more than a question.


    ¡°Is anyone?¡± Rosalia trailed off, bowing her head when Will shook his.


    ¡°We must leave. Should the man from earlier follow, we will all die.¡±


    Ash turned to Amalia,


    ¡°Who was he? Did he do this? Why is this happening?¡±


    Amalia weathered his questions, expression never shifting.


    ¡°Let us move. I wish to cover more miles tonight before resting.¡±


    ¡°Tell me!¡± Ash bellowed, the chill within him exploding into a blown winter storm.


    Amalia stared at him. The others shifted a bit, but it was Rosalia who spoke,


    ¡°My Dad is probably dead. I don¡¯t even know. Nick¡¯s Mom is dead, and so are Will¡¯s relatives. So much death¡­please tell us why, Miss Amalia?¡±


    Amalia closed her eyes at the girl¡¯s words, taking a breath before opening them.


    ¡°Two miles from here is my cottage. It is protected with scripts. Let¡¯s make it there, and then I will answer some questions.¡±


    She didn¡¯t phrase it like a request, and Ash knew that was the best they would get.


    The others must have agreed because they followed Amalia as she began walking.


    No one said anything as they walked. A somber shadow hung around them all.


    He had never been to the storyteller¡¯s cottage before, and Amalia had never offered its location to everyone. When they arrived, they found it a humble tiny home with a small garden out front. A black cat lay by the door.


    When Amalia approached, the cat flicked open its yellow eyes, stretched languidly, wrapped its body around her legs, and purred loudly. Amalia unlocked the door to the tiny cottage, paying no mind to the cat; she invited them all in.


    It was comfortably decorated, with a couch and abstract paintings hanging on the walls. A small table was in one corner, and a fireplace occupied a large part of the room by the couch. The wood within had long been turned to ash.


    Various plants were around the room, vibrant and healthy; they added a rainbow of color.


    Ash could see another room in the back, next to a tiny kitchen with one cupboard.


    Everyone sat on the carpet, and Nick got the fire going without anyone asking him to.


    ¡°So? You promised.¡± Ash stated bluntly.


    Amalia sat down on a nearby chair after leaning her staff against the door.


    ¡°So I did, but I promised that I would answer some questions, not all and not specific ones.¡±


    Ash scowled, but the storyteller cut him off with a slash of her hand,


    ¡°Soothe, boy. I will answer some questions. But you must understand that there are reasons I do not answer everything. There are also¡­conditions you must fulfill before I answer certain questions.¡±


    ¡°Conditions? What are they?¡± Rosalia asked.


    ¡°We will get to that. You wish to know why they attacked Ash¡¯s and surrounding farms?¡±


    They all nodded. Amalia took a deep breath before answering.


    ¡°They were looking for someone.¡±


    ¡°Who? Is it you? The way you move, and you know how to fight! You¡¯re no regular storyteller.¡± Will accused her.


    Ash nodded, agreeing with the other boy.


    Amalia¡¯s lips curled in a slight, wry smile.


    ¡°So I am not. As to those questions¡­well now. We have come to the conditions I mentioned earlier.¡±


    ¡°What are these light-cursed conditions, then!¡± Nick swore, ¡°I want to know why my Ma was killed; shadow, take you!¡±


    Amalia did not react to his outburst.


    The rest did as Nick¡¯s words hit them like a blacksmith¡¯s hammer.


    Rosalia began to sob, with Will putting an arm around her.


    ¡°They¡¯re all dead!¡± She cried.


    Ash closed his eyes, seeing the fire, his Uncle Derrick¡¯s body lying in the dirt, run through with a sword. He swallowed but couldn¡¯t prevent a little cry from escaping his lips. He clenched his fists and banged his head against them, trying to make the images disappear.


    When he did open his eyes, he saw Will looking at him, his arm tight around Rosalia. His eyes, generally filled with mischief, looked dead.


    ¡°I know you do. My conditions are simple,¡± she began, her voice soft.


    ¡°You must become bronze-ranked adventurers.¡±

 Chapter Seven: Bronze Rank

    Chapter Seven: Bronze Rank


    ¡°Why do we have to do that? Why can¡¯t you tell us!¡± Rosalia asked, her hands bunching into fists, her ears twitching.


    Light, but she¡¯s adorable when she¡¯s mad. Ash couldn¡¯t help thinking about it. Here he was, his family dead, many of the people he knew and grew up around likely dead, and he was mooning after a girl.


    A tingling shame crept up his neck.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to know what in the light those things are,¡± Nick added.


    Amalia answered Rosalia first.


    ¡°All you need to know is that this is my condition. You cannot pry the knowledge from me, so you have little choice to comply unless you wish to remain ignorant.¡±


    She turned then to Nick,


    ¡°Those were kobolds.¡±


    Nick raised a black brow,


    ¡°You mean from that light-fucked story?¡±


    Amalia pursed her lips, and her violet eyes narrowed,


    ¡°I grow weary of your needless swearing, child.¡±


    Nick smiled pearl white teeth at her and shrugged,


    ¡°I don¡¯t rightly give a light-cursed fuck, now do I? You¡¯re naught but a storyteller to me, and as grateful as I may be to you savin¡¯ my life and all, I won¡¯t guard my tongue for anyone.¡±


    Amalia frowned, and for a moment, Ash thought she¡¯d hit the dwarf with her staff. Then she shrugged,


    ¡°I suppose I can respect that attitude. But it is as you say, Nicholas. They are indeed from that story. Many things you have seen this night were in that story. And if you want to hear more about it, you will strive to meet my conditions.¡±


    Ash mulled it over a bit, all lapsing into silence as they thought.


    What she was offering was a fulfillment of his dream. He had longed to be an adventurer. Adventurers knew the secrets of magic. They fought monsters, roamed the lands in search of glory, and protected the weak.


    But it left a sour taste in his mouth that someone was trying to make him do it to learn about the deaths of those closest to him.


    He felt like he had bought a ticket to his dream with his Aunt and Uncle¡¯s deaths.


    But what other choice did he have?


    ¡°We could look for the information ourselves,¡± Rosalia suggested. She spoke slowly, as if exploring a new topic she didn¡¯t want to get wrong.


    Amalia remained stoic, saying,


    ¡°You could try, but where would you look?¡±


    Rosalia frowned, ears reddening. Will shrugged,


    ¡°We could ask around; surely someone knows where to go. Books are a thing, last I looked.¡±


    Rosalia pointed at him, nodding.


    ¡°So they do, but I promise you that the books you seek are hard to find in random villages and farms. Further, the kinds of answers you need are even rarer in books. Who¡¯s to say how long it would take for you to find these things? What will you do if you come across more monsters? Not all can be defeated with a knife and a hammer.¡±


    That was the final nail in the coffin of their search for answers. For most monsters, you needed an adventurer. That¡¯s why local villages often put up notice boards, posting monster contracts for passing adventurers, paying them with coins gathered from every villager. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The four of them would not survive a lycanthrope, for example.


    Amalia gave a gracious nod, acknowledging her victory.


    ¡°Do not look so defeated. I will assist you, in a manner of speaking, in fulfilling my condition.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± Will asked.


    Amalia raised a hand, ticking off a finger,


    ¡°First, I shall take you to Wyrmhaven Academy. Secondly, I will train and prepare you as best I can before we arrive.¡±


    ¡°Um¡­I can put it together that this place is a school, but why would we be going there?¡± Rosalia shifted as if embarrassed to ask what she thought was a stupid question.


    It was Nick who answered,


    ¡°It¡¯s an adventure academy. You go there to learn to be an adventurer. I overheard my Ma talkin¡¯ to a trader who said he was headed up there. It¡¯s far to the west of us, in the Vynterium mountains near Drakoisia. You¡¯d have us travel clear across Aleria, woman! Has the shadow taken your mind?¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± Amalia muttered.


    Louder, she said,


    ¡°Precisely. I''d say the journey will take us some time, a couple of months. Time enough to prepare you for the entrance exam.¡±


    Will groaned,


    ¡°Never been any good at tests.¡±


    ¡°What test have you taken? We never went to any school,¡± Ash said, his brows coming together in confusion.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t taken any, but trust me, I¡¯m rotten at them,¡± Will grinned.


    Rosalia giggled, and Ash flicked his eyes between her and Will, frowning.


    ¡°We leave tomorrow morning, so get some rest. I have a few bedrolls I tucked away; I¡¯ll get them. I suspect you all must be hungry, too. I¡¯ll get that prepared. It will be hard to eat after what you all went through, but I suggest you do so anyway. You will need your strength in the days to come.¡±


    Ash had a nagging feeling she was correct.


    Everyone had grown tired of the stench of the dried green blood on him, so he was made to shower before bed. Amalia had a shower in her room, which he found to be a bed, dresser, and nightstand. When he was done, she had somehow cleaned his clothes.


    ¡°A script,¡± was all she said by way of explanation.


    Sleep was long in coming.


    __________


    They were woken up before dawn by Amalia pressing her staff into their sides.


    ¡°Light, woman! Five more minutes!¡± Nick growled, pulling the bed roll further up.


    She poked him harder, and he growled again before reluctantly crawling out of the bedroll.


    Ash waved her away, already getting up and rolling up his roll.


    Was that his imagination, or did she look a little disappointed? Shrugging, Ash put the roll away.


    ¡°I¡¯ve prepared travel bags for you all. We are headed to Deharra and then Brilehaven after that. We will stop at midday and start your first lesson. Let us be off.¡±


    Yawning and stretching, the group left the cottage, with Amalia scratching the black cat''s head and bending down to whisper something Ash couldn¡¯t hear to the animal.


    Morning dew fell from the tree leaves around them, and his breath turned to white mist as it met the air. A bird chirped nearby.


    Aunt Dara sure would have enjoyed this morning. The thought brought a sorrowful shadow to Ash¡¯s face as they trekked through the forest and to the road.


    It felt wrong, somehow, for time to march on after what had happened last night. Yet here they were, traveling to an academy, moving on with life not even hours after everyone they had known had either been killed or lost.


    Ash felt his throat constrict, his teeth pressing together hard.


    ¡°We¡¯re doing everything we can, Ash.¡±


    Rosalia was beside him, her green eyes filled with understanding and concern.


    Ash looked away,


    ¡°We¡¯re betraying them. How can we move on like this? Like nothing happened?¡±


    Amalia¡¯s voice cut in,


    ¡°On the contrary, you¡¯re doing exactly what your Aunt and Uncle would have wanted. Besides, you¡¯re pursuing answers the best way you know how. Answers you¡¯re not even aware you¡¯re looking for, even.¡±


    An icy hand latched itself around his heart, and Ash bit back a retort. He didn¡¯t want to argue with her this early in the morning.


    He ground his teeth together.


    She has all the answers and refuses to give us even one! Light, but the woman frustrated him. They were all being blackmailed, and what made it worse was that they could do nothing but dance to her tune.


    She did save your life. He reluctantly acknowledged the thought, which did nothing to help his mood. Rosalia took his hand and squeezed, giving him a comforting smile before moving ahead to talk with Nick.


    Her presence was a warm fire on a chilly night, lightening their unseen burden of grief.


    She did this even despite carrying her own.


    Rosalia was a good person.


    And beyond beautiful, Ash thought, dipping his head to hide his blushing face.


    Soon, they found a clear area a little ways off the road.


    ¡°This is a good spot to camp. We will continue onward tomorrow. Go and fetch us some wood, all of you.¡±


    They all obeyed, setting down their packs.


    After a cheery fire had been built, Amalia nodded, lowering her hood and stretching.


    ¡°Very well then. It is time to begin your training, children.¡±

 Chapter Eight: The First Lesson

    <u>Chapter Eight: The First Lesson</u>


    Training is going to kill me, Ash Lorcan thought as he did his sixtieth push-up. He groaned, his muscles screaming at him to stop. It was as if someone had injected fire into his body. What made it worse was that his body was covered in sweat. Luckily, he was able to take off his shirt.


    He longed to stop and allow the cool air to dry him, but if he did, Amalia would prod him with her staff, offering a scornful tongue lashing.


    So he rolled over and began crunches.


    ¡°All the way up, Ash. I will not have you doing the exercise incorrectly.¡±


    Ash was beginning to think she was a monster herself.


    After running in place, dropping to the ground, picking himself back up, and doing that fifty times, Ash was sure he would puke.


    ¡°She¡¯s evil incarnate. I know it,¡± he muttered.


    The others were in similar states, all groaning like toppled cows.


    Amalia was shaking her head,


    ¡°I expected a little more from you all. You¡¯re all full of youth, after all. Now, get up, we¡¯re moving on.¡±


    She produced four training swords from thin air, and they plopped onto the dirt.


    ¡°Where were you keeping those?¡± Will asked with a groan.


    Amalia waved a dismissive hand,


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I suspect not all of you will have talent with the sword, but I want you to have a rudimentary understanding nonetheless. Grab one and pick an opponent.¡±


    Rosalia and Ash stood awkwardly across from one another.


    Will and Nick were doing the same thing nearby but far enough away not to interfere.


    Nick looked vastly uncomfortable holding the sword compared to everyone else, while Will looked confident. Ash, for his part, felt the blade fit him like a glove.


    He slipped into a stance with his feet apart, knees slightly bent, and knew it felt right.


    Rosalia looked like a newborn sheep, uncertain of herself and about to fall any minute.


    ¡°Begin!¡± Amalia called out.


    Rosalia rushed him,


    ¡°Hi-yah!¡± She yelled, slashing at him with her wooden blade.


    It was child¡¯s play for Ash to move around the attack, but he hesitated to counter it.


    He didn¡¯t want to hurt her.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    She whirled around to attack him again, and his hesitation in attacking her cost him. The blow to his shoulder sent a pulse of hot pain zinging through him, and he blew out a hissing breath, wincing.


    ¡°Oh! I¡¯m so sorry, Ash! Did I hit you too hard?¡±


    Her eyes were wide with concern, and she was staring at her shoulder. She bit her lip.


    Light, but she¡¯s adorable, Ash thought, not for the first time or the last.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Again?¡± He asked.


    Amalia was staring at them, and he didn¡¯t want her to come to bother them.


    ¡°Aha!¡± Will called out, having knocked Nick¡¯s wooden sword out of his hand.


    ¡°Light!¡± Nick swore, shaking his hand and sucking at his fingers, his eyes narrowed with pain.


    Will was grinning triumphantly and walking around, holding his hands out, his blade outstretched in one hand.


    ¡°Thank you! Thank you! Tell me, are you not entertained!¡±


    Rosalia giggled again, and Ash frowned as he stared at Will.


    As the sun began to set, Amalia produced cookware and venison from thin air, prompting Ash to wonder where, by the Light, she was keeping it.


    Dinner was made shortly after, and the group ate like ravenous wolves.


    ¡°Sit down, all of you. It is time you learned a bit about magic.¡±


    They all paid attention when she said that.


    She smiled slightly, violet eyes glowing in the firelight.


    ¡°Yes, I thought that would earn your attention. Sit down, cross your legs, and listen closely. I do not like repeating myself.¡±


    When they had all done so, Amalia held up a single finger. A ball of pale white flame reminiscent of pearls and polished silver hung over her finger, no larger than a bead.


    They all stared, enraptured.


    This magic, Ash thought.


    Every part of him, in that single instant, wanted nothing more than to be able to do what Amalia was doing right now.


    The storyteller¡¯s voice was amused as she said,


    ¡°You see this as magic, as a spell out of the stories, yes?¡±


    They all nodded at once.


    The ball of white fire vanished when Amalia made a fist. She held her fist up momentarily before unfolding her hand to reveal her open palm.


    ¡°In truth, it is not magic at all. At least, not in the way you¡¯re thinking.¡±


    Her voice gained an edge of sorrow as she added,


    ¡°Sadly, the truth has a way of removing the magic from most things.¡±


    She cleared her expression, lowering her hand as she spoke again. The night air caused her black hair to move like dark water.


    ¡°What you saw is known as a technique using my elar, which comes from my elan.¡±


    ¡°Elar?¡± Rosalia asked. At the same time, Will asked, ¡°Elan?¡±


    Rosalia shot a glance at him, her ears going pink.


    Ash felt ice in his veins as he scowled.


    ¡°I do not wish to over-explain, as you will learn most of this at Wyrmhaven. Instead, I want you to close your eyes and cast your consciousness within yourself. Look for the core of who you are, of that spark within you. You will know it when you find it.¡±


    Ash did as asked. His mind delved into his body.


    He was aching. Every part of his body he focused on was throbbing with dull, tired pain. He tried to push past that, going deeper.


    His heart pounded out a steady rhythm, strong but healthy.


    Deeper still.


    He encountered a coldness as if he had plunged his hand into chilly water. His lips tugged downward into a frown, his brows pinching together, and he felt a numbness blanket his thoughts.


    Blue light found on the surface of frozen ponds on a clear winter day exploded across his mind''s eye. He gasped, and at the same time, others around him did so.


    ¡°Good, it seems you have all found it. This is your elan. Scholars have occasionally referred to it as your core. The light you¡¯re seeing will be a different color for all of you. No, I will not tell you what it means. Not yet. All I want you to do now is try to draw on it with a mental hand.¡±


    This was harder.


    Or so Ash thought; no matter how he tried, he could not grasp that chilly light.


    ¡°I¡¯m doing it!¡± Rosalia laughed aloud.


    ¡°Oh, but this feels wonderful!¡±


    ¡°This¡­this feels amazing!¡± Will echoed.


    ¡°I guess it¡¯s nice,¡± Nick grumbled.


    But Ash did not add his voice to the mix because he felt no wondrous feeling.


    He clawed at the light within himself with thoughts. He tried a gentler approach, beckoning at it with a mental wave.


    He probed it with a spear jab of his mind.


    Nothing worked for him.


    When he opened his eyes, Amalia was staring at him.


    Slowly, she shook her head.


    Ash¡¯s heart sank, and he hung his head.


    I can¡¯t use magic, he thought with despair.

 Chapter Nine: Magicless

    <u>Chapter Nine: Magicless</u>


    Ash walked with hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped, and head down. He stayed near the back because he didn¡¯t want to hear the others talking about how amazing it was to be able to use magic.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry, elar,¡± Ash mocked under his breath.


    Dawn''s light played across the trees and road, and a gentle breeze tousled the party''s clothes and hair. It was once again a beautiful morning, and Ash did not feel it.


    In the past day, his Aunt and Uncle, who had been there for him his whole life, had been killed by monsters. What made it so much worse was that he didn¡¯t know why.


    He would have to become a bronze-ranked adventurer to find a clue because that was the only way the person who knew anything would tell him.


    How was he supposed to do that if he couldn¡¯t use this mysterious elar? He could feel his elan, that winter light within him. He could find it far more quickly now than the night before. He experimented as he walked and discovered he didn¡¯t need to be sitting to do it.


    It was as simple as reaching out with his mind.


    He cocked his head, his attention landing on a smooth blue stone in the road. It stood out sharply against the brown and grey of the road. He reached down, plucked it up, and bounced it in his palm.


    Morning light glinted off the stone, making it shimmer.


    Removing a cloth from his pack, he rubbed the stone, admiring how it shined even brighter as he did.


    When he left his desolate home, he had been forced to leave his collection behind.


    He could start collecting again; the stone was awfully shiny. He slipped it into his pack, keeping a lookout for more interesting rocks.


    ¡°Why do you do that?¡±


    Nick had fallen back a few steps to walk by his side. His ebony skin had a slight sheen in the light; in a way, he was like a shiny stone himself, to Ash¡¯s eye anyway.


    No, stop it. You cannot collect Nick. He hadn¡¯t at all been considering it.


    Ash cleared his throat.


    ¡°I like rocks, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Nick grunted,


    ¡°My Ma, she used to collect these carved figurines from soapstone or any stone. She¡¯d set them up on the mantle, like a tiny army up there.¡±


    Nick flicked a finger at his pack,


    ¡°Seems like somethin¡¯ you could do with that stone.¡±


    Ash opened his mouth in horror at the suggestion.


    ¡°But¡­then they¡¯d be different! What if they didn¡¯t shine anymore?¡±


    Nick stared at him, then he threw his head back and laughed, his body shaking.


    Ash looked away, face heating up; he rubbed the back of his neck.


    ¡°You¡¯re a weird one, Ash Lorcan. Do what you will with your shiny rocks; light knows it¡¯s not my business.¡±


    Rosalia giggled, covering her mouth, and Ash looked ahead to see her playfully shove Will, who was grinning a boyish grin.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Ooh, someone¡¯s mighty jealous.¡±


    Ash blinked, ducking his head and twiddling his fingers together.


    ¡°What? No. Of course not!¡±


    Nick clapped him on the shoulder,


    ¡°You have it bad, my friend. Anyone with eyes can see that. You should tell her.¡±


    Ash tightened his shoulders,


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, Nick.¡±


    ¡°You can deny it till you''re blue in the face; you¡¯re convincin¡¯ nobody. But if you don¡¯t put yourself out there, I can promise you this: someone else will.¡±


    Ahead, Will gave an elegant bow, and Rosalia giggled again.


    Cold seeped into his veins, and his eyes became frost.


    ¡°Shadow, take me, but you look fierce when your face does that.¡±


    Ash blinked,


    ¡°What?¡±


    Nick pointed at him,


    ¡°Your face. I¡¯ve never seen you angry before, but it goes blank like that, and your eyes gain this frosty look. It¡¯s hard to describe, but it¡¯s like a hungry wolf in winter.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t look like that.¡±


    Nick shrugged,


    ¡°Whatever you say, man. But can I share with you what I¡¯ve learned over the past day?¡±


    It was Ash¡¯s turn to shrug. Nick¡¯s face sobered, his eyes gaining a serious edge to them.


    ¡°Life is short. You and me and Rosalia? We¡¯re all young, and we think we have forever to live. We don¡¯t, Ash. Last night proved that, and I have a naggin¡¯ feelin¡¯ in my gut that says things will only get more dangerous. Take your chances because the clock is gonna keep tickin¡¯, and eventually, there won¡¯t be time for any more chances.¡±


    With that, Nick quickened, moving ahead and leaving Ash to think.


    ___________


    Purple smoke curled into the air above Deharra. Ash knew then that they wouldn¡¯t find anything suitable. The village hadn¡¯t been significant.


    Which is why it likely hadn¡¯t taken a lot of effort to burn down.


    Corpses littered the streets, burnt husks that hardly resembled anything human. Ashes blew in the slight breeze, and Rosalia coughed, covering her mouth in horror, green eyes wide as she looked around.


    Tears began to form in the corner of her eyes.


    Nick looked grim as if he were attempting to burn the scene into his memory.


    Some of the corpses weren¡¯t burnt, their faces masks of terror, guts spilling from their stomachs, flies buzzing around them. The stench was so foul that Ash wretched, and Will¡¯s face went white as freshly washed bed sheets.


    Amalia merely swept her gaze around the town as they walked, as if none of it touched her.


    ¡°We¡­We..should look for survivors,¡± Ash croaked.


    ¡°There are none,¡± was Amalia¡¯s steely response.


    Ash stopped in the road, nails digging into his palms.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t this bother you? That¡¯s a child!¡±


    He pointed to the ripped-open chest of a young child no more than ten years old in a ditch.


    Amalia turned to face him, violet eyes as hard as gemstones. She said nothing, which caused the cold within him to intensify, like ice that burned your skin when you touched it.


    ¡°Why does none of this bother you? Are you a human? When you tell stories, your voice comes alive with emotion; you can tell you¡¯re a person. But this! You may as well be stone with how you¡¯re acting!¡±


    ¡°Are you done?¡±


    Ash felt a knuckle pop, and he forced out a breath.


    ¡°Yeah, I guess I am.¡±


    Amalia nodded,


    ¡°We have some ways to go, and all this talk is nothing but a delay.¡±


    She turned away from him, and they continued.


    Ash did his best to put the nightmare around him out of his mind.


    But no matter what he did, he couldn¡¯t entirely ignore the smell of burnt flesh or get the image of a child¡¯s dead eyes out of his mind.


    _________


    ¡°You want us to train? I think we could all use a break tonight, Miss Amalia.¡± Rosalia¡¯s voice had a pleading note, but it earned nods from everyone.


    Ash especially did not want to train. He wanted to curl up into a ball and weep.


    Amalia looked around her, expression as stoic as any statue.


    ¡°Do you think the monsters that burned down that village and butchered its children asked them what they wanted?¡±


    Rosalia stared, then blinked hard, lost for words.


    ¡°What does that have to do with the price of milk?¡± Will asked.


    ¡°I wonder how many of those people would still be alive if they had the strength to defend themselves.¡±


    Rosalia gasped, and Nick interjected angrily,


    ¡°Shadows, woman! They shouldn¡¯t have had to! Don¡¯t go blamin¡¯ them now; they were innocent!¡±


    ¡°Oh? And did that matter very much when the monsters came knocking?¡± Amalia shook her head and banged her staff once against the ground, a dull thump echoing around them as a small puff of dirt dispersed into the air.


    ¡°Hear me, children. There are bad things all across Dominion. Evil, dark things that care not for innocence or whether a thing is moral or immoral. They will kill you, and some of them will eat you if given the opportunity. They will burn down your farms and villages, slaughtering your loved ones before your eyes. It matters not if this should happen. It matters not if it is hard to see. These monsters do not care. All it boils down to is whether or not you¡¯re strong enough to defend yourself, your loved ones, and your homes.¡±


    She swept her gaze around, meeting each of their eyes.


    ¡°Shirk your training if you wish, but ask yourself: will you be strong enough to face the monsters when they come again? For they surely will, and they will not give you a break just because you had a hard day.¡±


    Ash shared looks with the others, and almost as one, they sighed and dropped to the ground.


    Amalia nodded in satisfaction as they began their push-ups.

 Chapter Ten: Campfire Stories

    <u>Chapter Ten: Campfire Stories</u>


    ¡°Move your feet, Rosalia! If you lose balance, you¡¯re dead!¡± Amalia did not take a passive approach to training this afternoon.


    She moved around them, staff in hand, barking out instructions whenever she saw a mistake.


    There were a lot of mistakes.


    Every once in a while, she would lash out with her staff, smashing it into whatever part of their body was open.


    ¡°Be aware of your surroundings! Or-¡±


    ¡°Die, we know, Light curse you,¡± Nick growled.


    Will laughed, but his merriment was cut short when Amalia¡¯s staff bonked him on the head.


    ¡°Ow!¡± He rubbed the top of his head, face scrunched up in pain.


    ¡°Perhaps you should spend more time paying attention and less making fun, master Al¡¯Seen.¡±


    Will scowled but squared his stance. Rosalia smiled at him apologetically before attempting to bash him with her wooden sword.


    Ash, for his part, felt right for once. Whenever he held the wooden sword, something clicked. He couldn¡¯t explain it; he hardly knew it himself, but the blade felt like an extension of his arm.


    As a result, Amalia hardly called him out. Her stoic expression never changed, but there was an emotion within her amethyst gaze he couldn¡¯t place. She did try to hit him with her staff, but Ash felt a second warning, a shift in the afternoon air that hadn¡¯t been there before, and he parried the blow away from him.


    This time, there was a crack in her mask, and a brief flash of shock crossed her face before it was gone, restoring the stoic expression.


    Nick was not doing nearly as well opposite him. Amalia poked his feet with her staff,


    ¡°Wrong! Here, and here.¡±


    But no matter how many times he got hit or how many times she corrected his footing, Nick looked like an awkward child about to throw a tantrum. He couldn¡¯t land a single blow on Ash, who seemingly knew what Nick would do before he did it.


    ¡°Shadows, take this fucking sword! I¡¯m no good with it.¡±


    Nick threw it to the ground, stalking away.


    Amalia let him go, her face revealing nothing.


    After sword training, it was back to training with elar and elan.


    ¡°When you hold your elar, I want you to breathe in through your nose and then push the breath out fast out of your mouth. Do this repeatedly.¡±


    Everyone did as she bade, except for Ash.


    He tried as hard as he could to draw his elar, but no matter how he tried, it never worked.


    Amalia offered no support. She knew he couldn¡¯t draw it out; he could see that much in her blasted dark purple gaze, which made him grind his teeth in frustration.


    But he kept trying nonetheless until Amalia called an end to the training.


    By this time, the sun was setting, its light smoldering out.


    Dinner was made, and Amalia again made meat, spices, and vegetables appear out of thin air. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Before bed, with the fire crackling merrily, its smoke drifting into the sky, Will said,


    ¡°Would you tell a story, Amalia?¡±


    Amalia looked up,


    ¡°Hmm. What story would you like to hear, Master Al¡¯Seen?¡±


    Will looked away, his voice soft,


    ¡°I want to hear about the Nythum.¡±


    A hush fell over the group, the only sound being the flames burning.


    ¡°A child¡¯s tale, Master Al¡¯Seen? This is the story you want to hear?¡±


    Will shrugged, then nodded.


    Violet eyes drifted to each one of them,


    ¡°And you all? You wish to hear this tale as well?¡±


    They all nodded.


    Amalia took a breath, her grip tightening on her staff.


    ¡°Very well then.¡±


    Amalia began to speak.


    ___________


    After the Hero of Light sacrificed himself that day and the Light departed, time marched on. The Dragon Lords founded the city of Drakosia, and there was relative peace for a time. During this period, the elf known as Adonai Silverblade began to unite the elven tribes in Elendari.


    That was the only actual conflict to speak of at the time.


    But Shadow is a patient thing. Its prison was well made, but though it was an outside creation, it could still wrap around it. Its presence could still be felt. As it so often had before, it corrupted the hearts and minds of people.


    Among these were five dragon lords, heroes of the armies of light, each with numerous accolades to their names. Many speculate how such great heroes could have fallen to the Shadow¡¯s temptation, but if any know the real reasons, they have not offered up the knowledge.


    These once great heroes began to sow evil across the land, performing profane rituals and calling forth things from the Nevervare that were best left alone.


    Weakened but unwilling to allow this evil to fester, the Light descended again.


    But this time, it did so in secret, taking the form of a lowly beggar; he went to the village of Rhaul.


    Rhaul wasn¡¯t a large village, with barely more than twenty people inhabiting it. It was here that the Light, disguised as a weak old beggar, hoped to find those pure of heart.


    As the days passed, with the Light sitting there, waiting for anyone, even one person, to notice him, he began to doubt.


    A smith passed him by one day but spat on the beggar,


    ¡°Useless old cur! Save us all some trouble and keel over, would ya?¡±


    The Light continued to wait, even as the smith visited another man¡¯s wife, committing adultery, for he too was also married under the Light.


    The next day, the town huntress crossed the street to escape him, her pale face looking disgusted.


    ¡°You reek, old thing. At least bathe!¡±


    Three adventurers passed him by the next, and not one helped him. Instead, one with a sword said,


    ¡°I could lop off his head; that oughta put him out of his misery, eh?¡±


    He grinned at the ranger beside him.


    Then, the beggar stood up and walked to the center of town. His beggar rags shed themselves as he walked, pure, brilliant armor sheathing his form.


    His matted, dirty hair became pure light as the once beggar was shown like a living star in the middle of Rhaul.


    ¡°Hear me, villagers of Rhaul! All of you are steeped in sin, your hearts as black as a shadow.¡±


    The smith from the day prior scowled at the shining form of the Light,


    ¡°Who are you to judge us so? You¡¯ve no idea what struggle we go through!¡±


    The Light burned with terrible fire, and the smith was forced to look away.


    ¡°I am the Light! I came to this village seeking pure-hearted people. Where else would I find such a heart other than in a simple village? Or so I thought! Instead, your hearts are void!¡±


    Upon hearing this, the smith fell to the ground, and so did the three adventurers and the pale-faced woman who had crossed the street to escape him.


    ¡°We beg your forgiveness, lord!¡¯ She cried out.


    The Light nodded,


    ¡°So you should. My judgment is thus!¡±


    An excellent platinum dragon head appeared in the air, its scales shining like individual stars on a full moon¡¯s night, its eyes orbs of shining molten silver.


    It roared its glory across the skies; everyone heard it that day.


    ¡°Approach my dragon and survive its fire, for if you do, your hearts shall be purified, and you will stand with me as my champions, my Nythum!¡±


    The pale-faced woman went first. She stood under the dragon, whose eyes were radianced. The dragon opened its maw, and white flame bathed her form.


    Her screams were beyond imagining, her pain so great it beggared description.


    But she did not run away.


    Moments later, an eternity to her, the flames died.


    She stood made anew, skin as radiant as the dragon''s fire, molten silver wings glowing upon her back.


    She became Ziven, the Unburnt.


    The smith survived the fires and became Eruk, the Hammer.


    The ranger served, and she became Adria, the Huntress.


    The warrior attempted to flee, and the great dragon snapped its jaws, eating him whole, his screams ceasing instantly.


    These three became the first of the Nythum, and their task was to hunt the five dragon lords turned to shadows and all who served them.


    Thus, this story is complete, and the Nythum were born.


    Amalia¡¯s voice faded along with the dying embers of their fire.


    No one said anything; they were merely sitting quietly, the hoot of an owl in the distance seeming to signal the night''s end.

 Chapter Eleven: The Falling Frost Dragon

    <u>Chapter Eleven: The Falling Frost Dragon</u>


    Ash¡¯s eyes snapped open. He had heard a noise, and for a moment, he thought they were being attacked. Images of a creature shrouded in black descending from the sky spewing purple fire filled his mind.


    Instead, he heard a low whining that he understood a moment later was crying.


    ¡°Shh, it¡¯s okay. Shh..¡± Rosalia¡¯s voice was low, soft, and filled with utter compassion.


    Turning his head over in his bedroll, Ash looked out through lidded eyes.


    Will was sobbing quietly, whimpering sobs. Tears rolling down his cheek.


    ¡°She gone¡­¡± he repeated, his voice broken and filled with loneliness.


    Ash turned his head away. The simple truth was that he understood the way Will was feeling.


    More than once these last few nights, he, too, had wanted to cry. Instead, he resolved to turn it over to training. What Amalia had said hadn¡¯t registered with him then, but as he thought about it, he came to what he felt was an inevitable conclusion.


    She was right.


    He couldn¡¯t change what had happened, and though he would seek answers and vengeance, he first had to ensure it would never happen again.


    He would do that by becoming so powerful that it couldn¡¯t happen again.


    Magic or no magic.


    Holding on to that thought, Ash drifted off to sleep.


    Dreams of fire, dark figures, and a woman on a horse beckoned him.


    ________


    ¡°We are two days away from Brilehaven, but we will not be going anywhere for the next week.¡±


    ¡°Um, what? Why?¡± Rosalia asked, ears twitching.


    Nick ran a thumb over his sheathed hammer before crossing his arms,


    ¡°I¡¯d also like to know. An inn would be far preferable to the light-cursed ground. It hurts my back.¡±


    Will pointed and nodded at the dwarf, with Ash joining him. He had no desire to sleep out here if he didn¡¯t have to.


    Amalia endured their complaints with the same stoic expression she always used when they disagreed. When she felt they were done voicing their gripes, she spoke,


    ¡°It''s because you all need more training, and that training includes living outdoors. Adventurers often travel, and their only option is to sleep outside. Sometimes, they even stay inside dungeons. When we get to Brilehaven, we will take a monster contract, and you need to be prepared for it.¡±


    Rosalia¡¯s face paled, and Ash¡¯s jaw fell open, and he shared a shocked glance with the others.


    ¡°A monster contract? Do you want us to die? I¡¯m too pretty to die!¡¯ Will exclaimed, pointing at his face. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Amalia did not laugh.


    ¡°You won¡¯t die. You handled kobolds well enough; you can handle this with careful preparation and diligent training.¡±


    Amalia endured their protests a little further before raising a hand. Instantly, all noise ceased.


    ¡°You act as if you have a choice. I am older than you; I know more than you do. If you wish to fulfill my condition and become a bronze-ranked adventurer, you will listen to me. Otherwise, I will stop helping you. Thus, you would be on your own. I feel you would not get very far then.¡±


    Ash brought his brows together in a scowl. She was correct; she knew it, too. Ash hated that, even more so because she didn¡¯t even have the common courtesy to look smug about it, so he couldn¡¯t fully indulge in his active dislike for her.


    The others came to the same conclusion as reluctant acceptance wrote itself on their faces.


    Amalia tapped her staff on the ground.


    ¡°Let¡¯s begin.¡±


    __________________


    ¡°Master Al¡¯Smith, I can see that it will be impossible for you to learn the sword, so I will permit you to use a hammer, as well.¡± Amalia produced a shield from thin air, handing it to Nick, who grunted and ran a hand over the wooden surface.


    He slipped his left arm through the strap and nodded to Amalia.


    ¡°I like the feel of this.¡±


    ¡°Mm. Yes, I figured you would. It serves a dual purpose, as master Lorcan will have to figure out a way around it.¡± She flicked her violet eyes to Ash¡¯s blue gaze.


    ¡°I expect you to meet the challenge.¡±


    Ash didn¡¯t acknowledge her, as he was already thinking about getting around the shield. Nick put his metal hammer on the ground in favor of a wooden one Amalia gave him.


    ¡°Begin!¡± Amalia called.


    Nick didn¡¯t bother with any stance; he just advanced, raised his shield, and tried to wack Ash with his hammer. Ash dodged around it with a few quick steps to the right, lashing out with his blade.


    Nick must have expected something like this because he turned, catching the blow with a hollow thud on his shield.


    The rest of the training went a lot like that. Frustration built up in Ash like layers of frost, and finally, he snapped, anger and instinct driving him. He attacked the shield with a furious blow, displacing it enough for his sword to get in a follow-up attack that landed solidly against Nick, knocking him to the ground.


    The dwarf cursed, sputtering angrily.


    Before he could fully direct his pained ire at Ash, Amalia broke in.


    ¡°The hand-and-a-half sword has more reach; by attacking the shield, you can displace it. This creates more opportunities for the sword wielder to land critical blows, as demonstrated by Master Lorcan.¡±


    She turned her attention to Ash,


    ¡°The form you just used is known as the falling frost dragon. It is a form used primarily for offense from a high guard.¡±


    She studied him like he was a fascinating specimen,


    ¡°With hardly any prior training and no one having shown you that method of attack¡­¡± Amalia trailed off before turning away and tending to Rosalia and Will.


    Nick sighed, muttering to himself.


    ¡°I supposed I can¡¯t be too mad, losing to a Light-cursed prodigy.¡±


    ______________


    After exercising and weapon drills, it was usually time for magic, but before they all closed their eyes to draw their elar from their elan, Amalia held up a hand.


    ¡°Can anyone tell me how many kingdoms make up Dominion?¡±


    Ash looked at everyone else and found them equally confused.


    ¡°I suppose you only need an understanding of local geography to farm. Very well, here are the very basics. I asked a trick question, as there is only one kingdom on Dominion, the one we are in now, Aleria. There are, however, three other nations, or world powers, you might call them: the Elendari Nation, the elves¡¯ home, and Errundus, where the dwarves dwell. Finally, we have Alzura, home of the visenium. Now, practice drawing elar, and get used to the feeling,¡± she paused here before looking at Ash, ¡°Tomorrow, you use your elar in weapons training.¡±


    Ash gritted his teeth.


    But he did not voice his anger. Instead, he turned inward as he had so many times before since finding his elan.


    Once again, he found it, and once again, he could not draw upon it.


    However, he felt like he was beginning to understand why. He couldn¡¯t be sure, but it felt like there was a chasm between him and that winter orb of power within him. He reached forth a mental hand, and as hard as he tried, he could not breach that gap.


    He needed a bridge, a way to get over that mental chasm.


    He constructed a mental image of one with his thoughts, trying to lay it over the gap in the hopes that it would work.


    But it fell into that great chasm, breaking into a thousand mental shards. He blew a breath through his nose, trying many more times to no avail.


    Sometimes, it didn¡¯t matter how often you tried to fix something.


    Some things were just too broken ever to be fixed.

 Chapter Twelve: The Stream

    <u>Chapter Twelve: The Stream</u>


    ¡°Pulling elar from your elan while in combat is critical. You¡¯ve already felt the euphoria, which is due to elar sharpening your senses, making you a touch faster, slightly stronger.¡±


    They were paired up differently today. Rosalia, standing across from him, looked more competent with the sword than Nick. Her eyes closed, mouth quivering in concentration, as she attempted to draw her elar. Ash tried to do the same, and once again, he could feel and see the elan within him, that orb of winter light.


    But he could not touch it.


    ¡°You have two obstacles you will have to overcome. First is controlling the euphoria, and second, the enhanced senses that come with it. You won¡¯t be used to them, and it will take some practice.¡±


    None of which I have to worry about, Ash groused to himself.


    Rosalia¡¯s eyes snapped open, and her green eyes were filled with naked pleasure. Ash felt his face heat up, and he tightened his grip on the wooden blade, taking a breath.


    Then she attacked him, a red blur he couldn¡¯t track.


    He crashed into the ground, his ribs reporting that they were not having a pleasant time. He groaned but stood up, retrieving his blade.


    ¡°This is so awesome!¡± Rosalia called out, twirling her blade.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it is,¡± Ash muttered.


    She came at him again, and this time she missed Ash entirely, tripping past him and falling into the dirt herself. An audible crack sounded out, and she clutched at her head.


    ¡°Ow.¡±


    ¡°You need to control your speed, miss Va¡¯Sear.¡±


    Rosalia wrinkled her nose,


    ¡°It¡¯s all so much. I can smell everything, and it feels like I have lightning in my body.¡±


    ¡°Ha! Finally, I win a bout!¡± Nick said across from them.


    The dwarf had successfully knocked Will down with a blow from his shield. He spun his hammer into the air, catching it with a grin.


    ¡°How are you not overwhelmed?¡± Will asked.


    Nick shrugged,


    ¡°Maybe actual skill beats pretty-boy looks.¡±


    Will laughed,


    ¡°You wish! Alright, again.¡±


    Rosalia stood up, and Ash and she squared off once more.


    This time, for the second time, Ash ended up sprawled in the dirt. He pounded a fist into the dirt, ice flowing through his veins.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°This is impossible! I can¡¯t use magic! I¡¯ll never be an adventurer!¡±


    He got to his feet and threw the wooden practice sword as hard as he could. It slammed against the tree with a loud crack, like splitting wood. He stalked away from the camp, walking into the woods to the nearby stream they had been bathing in.


    On the farm, there was always work to be done. All you needed was your two hands and a touch of good sense, and you were useful. It didn¡¯t take much.


    He hadn¡¯t needed magic or anything like it to do the job. He remembered when they finished repairing the fence after a storm. It had been a lot of work, but you could see the finished result and the progress they had made.


    It felt good to see that progress. You got to see it in all kinds of ways on the farm.


    But out here? With this? He wasn¡¯t making any. He thought maybe he would at least have the sword. He was so much better with it than the others.


    His chest swelled slightly as he remembered how easily he had won against Nick the previous day and how Amalia had looked at him. He was good at it. A natural with the sword, even if Amalia didn¡¯t tell him that, he could tell.


    A puzzle piece clicked in place when he wielded a blade.


    But now that the others could use magic to empower themselves, he didn¡¯t even have that going for him. If all adventurers could use elar in that way, then what possible hope did he have?


    On the bank of the stream, a red-orange rock caught his attention. He picked it up. It was bumpy and not as shiny as he preferred, but it was interesting.  Too bad he hadn¡¯t brought his pack. He could put it in his pocket.


    Either way, he had no desire to discard it. I wanted to look at it later and admire its twists and turns, the way it looked like a mini red mountain.


    ¡°Running away from your problems, Master Lorcan? I thought better of you.¡±


    Ash rubbed his face, and his voice was tired.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you just leave me alone? You¡¯re no help.¡±


    Amalia watched the stream flow along merrily, fish darting around with it. The sound of the rushing water was a gentle melody in the air.


    ¡°I wanted to see what you would do.¡±


    Ash lifted an eyebrow at her, pocketing the stone, he crossed his arms.


    Amalia continued,


    ¡°I knew you couldn¡¯t draw your elar. I wanted to see how you handled it.¡±


    His heart gained a layer of frost, his eyes narrowed,


    ¡°So you knew but said nothing. That¡¯s like expecting a blind man to see! You disgust me sometimes, you know? You keep so many secrets, things that would help us figure out who killed our families! You¡¯re just as culpable in my book, and if I thought I had a snowball¡¯s chance, I would throttle the information out of you.¡±


    Amalia tweaked her lips upward in a wry smile,


    ¡°You would, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±


    She flicked a hand, dismissing his anger,


    ¡°It took you some time before you gave into the frustration. I expected you to cave that night. Instead, you kept trying.¡±


    She cocked her head,


    ¡°Admirable. And stubborn.¡±


    Ash wanted to keep berating her, but it was pointless. The violet-eyed woman didn¡¯t care. No matter what words he threw at her, they just slid off her. He may as well have been trying to insult a wall. Instead, he asked a question.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t I use my elar? I see the gap within me, the chasm to my elan that I cannot cross.¡±


    Amalia nodded,


    ¡°It has to do with your elar paths.¡±


    She slashed a finger to the side when he opened his mouth. He closed it, scowling, but resolved to let her explain.


    She pointed at the stream,


    ¡°Where do you think this stream flows into?¡±


    Ash chewed on his tongue for a moment,


    ¡°A river?¡±


    ¡°Indeed. What would happen if I added a dam to this stream?¡±


    ¡°It would stop flowing into the river.¡±


    ¡°Yes. The connection to the river would be cut off. Thus, the stream would no longer flow to it. If I wished for the stream to flow again, the dam would need to be removed.¡±


    Ash rubbed at his face,


    ¡°You¡¯re saying I have a dam that needs to be removed?¡±


    Amalia shook her head,


    ¡°Not quite. With you, the metaphor is in the reverse. You need a bridge, something that connects your elar paths, your inner streams if you will, to your elan.¡±


    Ash stepped forward. Here, finally, was a possible solution to the problem.


    ¡°How do I get it? How do I find this bridge?¡±


    ¡°You need something integral to who you are.¡±


    Ash growled,


    ¡°More light-cursed vague nonsense. Speak plainly; what do I need? If I am to fulfill your condition, I need this, or else I have no hope.¡±


    Amalia closed her eyes, then she opened them, staring hard at Ash.


    ¡°You need what your kind has always needed, Ash.¡±


    She took a breath,


    ¡°You need a dragon.¡±

 Chapter Thirteen: Brilehaven

    Chapter Thirteen: Brilehaven


    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®Your kind?¡¯ Dragons? Why do I need a dragon?¡±


    Amalia said nothing, merely watching the stream as the water moved along. A bird chirped nearby.


    Ash¡¯s left eye twitched,


    ¡°Tell me!¡±


    ¡°You think yelling will pry the answers from me. It will not.¡±


    Amalia turned her eyes to him, her face the same stoic expression it always seemed to be.


    ¡°If you want to know more you will have to wait until after the monster contract in Brilehaven.¡±


    Of course, more of her conditions. He clenched his fingers into fists, closing his eyes he attempted to calm his beating heart, the icy anger that pulsed in his veins.


    ¡°Why? Why these conditions? What point do they serve?!¡±


    ¡°Many points, in fact. There is one other option if you wish to explore it.¡±


    ¡°Which is?¡±


    Amalia flourished a hand at herself,


    ¡°Land a single blow on me, and I will answer any and all of your questions.¡±


    Ash rushed her, fist raised. He brought it down like a hammer blow to an anvil, sure the element of surprise would let him land the blow.


    He hit nothing but empty air, his momentum sending him tumbling end over end, lances of pain shooting through his body as he groaned.


    ¡°A surprise attack, smart. Not unexpected, however.¡±


    I didn¡¯t even see her move Ash thought to himself in agony.


    ¡°Are you done? I thought for sure you¡¯d fight harder for these answers.¡± Amalia¡¯s tone had no hint of mocking.


    Ash pushed himself up but rushing had earned him nothing. He studied Amalia, looking for any opening he could find. She just stood there, black robes rustling in the breeze.


    ¡°Perhaps you would fair better with a blade in hand,¡± Amalia stated. She held out a hand, and a wooden practice sword materialized in her palm. She tossed it at his feet.


    Ash scooped it up, moved into the falling frost dragon, and attacked.


    Amalia didn¡¯t even appear to move. It was like Ash was trying to strike the air itself. All he could see were little flashes of black and violet.


    ¡°Your form is excellent. You don¡¯t look at all as if you have only been training for a few days.¡±


    Ash didn¡¯t waste time talking; he just kept trying to hit her, his wooden practice sword a blur as he used every ounce of speed and talent he could summon.


    ¡°With a couple of years of solid training, I could make you something truly special with the sword. Of course¡­¡± Amalia trailed off as if thinking, ¡°You¡¯d still pale in comparison to anyone who could use elar. Which is just about everyone I would say.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Ash gave voice to his rage, bellowing, he increased the ferocity of his attack.


    Not once did she appear to move, and yet Ash just couldn¡¯t hit her. He kept at it for a little while longer, but eventually, the futility of it fell upon him like a boulder, and he slumped.


    ¡°Not a bad effort, but you were doomed to fail at the start. It¡¯s my elar, you see. I can brush aside your attacks with a little effort. Even should you reach bronze rank, you¡¯d not be able to lay a single blow upon me.¡±


    Amalia walked past him, heading back to the fire. She paused, turning to speak over her shoulder.


    ¡°I have the answers you seek, but I will provide them on my terms. There is nothing you can do to force them out of me. You have but two choices, adhere to my terms, or give up on any chance of finding the information you seek.¡±


    She walked away.


    Ash didn¡¯t follow.


    She was right. He didn¡¯t have a choice but to go along with her wishes. He did have a choice in the attitude he chose to have about it. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be sullen.


    But it would get him nowhere doing that. Instead, even if he lost, and kept loosing, he would keep training. If he would be forced to go without magic until he acquired a dragon, then he would be the best he could be without magic.


    Even with that thought burning within his mind, it was sometime before he returned to the fire.


    _____________


    Training continued over the next few days. In the morning they would eat, then do grueling excersizes. After that was weapons training, which for all of them but Nick meant using the sword. Amalia would have them try and use their elar here, as well.


    Surprisingly, everyone but Ash was a natural at this, improving all the time.


    Then they would spend the evening talking geography, history or other such topic before meditating, finding their elan.


    Ash couldn¡¯t do anything with his elan and elar. He tried to anyway, which earned him nothing but frustration. The gap was ever present. He just couldn¡¯t reach across it.


    So he threw himself into sword training.


    He lost there, too. Everyone regularly beat him now. No one looked very pleased when they won against him. That made it worse, of course. He could see the pity in Rosalia¡¯s eyes, and Will grimaced slightly every time he flourished his blade after knocking Ash to the ground.


    Even Nick grunted, walking away with him without any kind of celebration in his eyes.


    All of them clearly felt like they were fighting the equivalent of a cripple.


    Despite this, Ash did feel like he was improving. The ingrained sense of rightness he experienced while holding the blade only intensified, and he found himself noticing flaws in his form without even being told by Amalia.


    She was a constant presence, but Ash didn¡¯t find her to be a very good teacher.


    She knew her stuff, there was no denying that. She was so far ahead of them that any correction offered went leagues in improving them.


    But her teaching lacked any passion. Make a mistake, it was corrected, deliver the wrong answer, corrected. Every explanation was matter of fact, given with no emotional inflection.


    There was little in the way of encouragement. If you got it right, Amalia said nothing. Ash felt like she just expected you to get it right, and it was only worth speaking to fix what you got wrong.


    At the end of the week, the group gathered up there things, and finally, they departed for Brilehaven.


    _____________


    Brilehaven was a coastal village, mostly made up of fisherman and their families. The stench of the sea stained the air, and fishing boats drifted lazily on the shining blue water. There was a market square with people selling their wares, but a sense of unease hung over the village.


    Ash heard hushed, fearful whispers from men, and women alike. Children dashed through the streets, singing a rhyme and laughing,


    ¡°By the shore where waters gleam,


    Sally sings her shadowed dream.


    Step too close, and you¡¯ll beware,


    Her claws will catch you in the air.¡±


    Will raised an eyebrow, adjusting his shirt.


    ¡°Why do I feel like I just stumbled into a bit of foreshadowing? I don¡¯t like being apart of foreshadowing, not at all.¡±


    Amalia checked them into an inn after pulling a notice on brown parchment from the notice board. Amalia got her own room, of course, and so too did Rosalia. Ash, Nick, and Will shared one larger room.


    When they were settled in, they all met downstairs for dinner around a big table, the portly innkeeper serving up a hearty stew.


    Amalia placed the notice in the center of the table.


    ¡°Now then children, it is time we discuss monsters.¡±

 Chapter Fourteen: Sally of The Water

    Chapter Fourteen: Sally of The Water


    ¡°Villagers sometimes give local monsters plaguing their names. Perhaps this is a coping method. Naming a thing familiarizes it and lessons the fear of the unknown. Regardless, this one is known as Sally of The Water.¡± Amalia tapped the contract, which listed the name in large, bold, crudely written letters.


    ¡°Villagers will often deal with the monster for months before adventurers come along to kill it. Ending the monster¡¯s life is a process. One adventurers call ¡®The Hunt.¡¯ The hunt is broken down into two parts. Preparation, and finally, the kill. Preparation is by far the most involved of the process, and you will be splitting the burden of it amongst yourselves.¡±


    Amalia shifted her gaze to Ash,


    ¡°You will speak to the one who posted the notice; in this case, it is the village elder, Egard. It says he can be found in his home on the wharf. You will negotiate a price with him and inquire whether there are any live witnesses or other important information. Make sure to ask inquisitive questions, Master Lorcan, as you and the elder lack knowledge. You do not know what information is important or what isn¡¯t.¡±


    Ash scowled but nodded. It wasn¡¯t their fault that getting information out of Amalia was like trying to get information from a wall.


    ¡°The rest of you will also ask about, seeing what you can learn. Once we can identify the monster, we can discuss next steps. Off you go, children.¡±


    Ash, Rosialia, Nick, and Will left the inn to do as Amalia bade them. Ash headed directly to the wharf.


    Fishermen were bringing in a haul, working efficiently, and they began to process the fish. Several houses were on the wharf, so Ash asked a passing woman if she knew the elder¡¯s home.


    ¡°That one there, young man,¡± she pointed to a simple one-story house. The home was well-maintained and made of good-quality dark wood.


    An old man with silver hair, weathered skin from a life in the sun, and wearing brown robes sat in a rocking chair on the house¡¯s porch. His blue eyes held a hint of grey in storm clouds or a cloudy day.


    ¡°Hello, sir. I¡¯m Ash.¡±


    ¡°Hm.¡± Was all the old man said.


    Ash traced his gaze, following it to the ocean. Gentle waves lapped against the shore.


    ¡°I¡¯m here about the notice? For Sally of the Water?¡±


    Ash was trying to coax more of a response from him and succeeded a little. His grey eyes turned from the waves to look at Ash.


    ¡°Young.¡± He stated.


    Ash blinked,


    ¡°Yes¡­Is anyone alive who may have seen the monster, or maybe can tell us more about it?¡±


    ¡°Young. Go away, boy.¡±


    Ash took a deep breath, slowly letting it out.


    ¡°I am young, but I have a¡­teacher. I am here on her behalf.¡±


    Ash hated to have to explain himself; sixteen was nearly an adult by Alerian standards. Plus, it wasn¡¯t as if anyone else was offering to slay the beast.


    ¡°Hm. There¡¯s a fisherman. He¡¯s recovering at the healer¡¯s home in the square. He was attacked just last night.¡±


    Egard rocked gently, looking away from Ash as if their conversation was through.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Right. We need to talk price.¡±


    Egard didn¡¯t so much as blink,


    ¡°Two silver is the price.¡±


    Truthfully, Ash wasn¡¯t sure how much to ask for. He had no idea what the going rate for monster slaying was. Amalia hadn¡¯t given him an amount he should try to get.


    With her, it¡¯s probably some test, Ash thought.


    He would try to get as much as possible.


    ¡°Eight silver.¡±


    Egard narrowed his eyes at that.


    ¡°No. Go away.¡±


    Ash was starting to dislike the old man, but he had a nagging feeling that this was a facade. He was called the village elder, meaning he was some leader or at least well-respected. He cared about the people here; turning away help like this would be irresponsible.


    ¡°Look, sir, I get it. This money is coming from the villagers. You need to keep them in mind. But you also have to understand that we are risking our lives here, and ultimately, what¡¯s more important to you, money or the lives of your people?¡±


    Egard stared at him.


    Then he smiled.


    ¡°Like you, boy. You know how to use leverage in a negotiation. Eight silver, then.¡±


    Ash shook the old man¡¯s hand, heading to the healer¡¯s home.


    __________


    This home was a study in contrast to the elders'' home. Whereas the elders'' home was made of dark wood and was simple in design, this one was made of polished stone and elegant.


    Inside was a reception area, with a young blonde woman sitting behind a desk. There was a room beyond her that Ash was sure was the healer¡¯s office,


    There was also a line of villagers.


    ¡°Well. This is going to take a minute,¡± Ash muttered to himself,


    After nearly half an hour of waiting, it was Ash¡¯s turn to talk to the blonde. Her hair was done up in a bun, and her eyes were a warm brown,


    ¡°Hello! Welcome to Healer Shawna¡¯s; how may I help you?¡±


    She closed her brown eyes, smiling at him.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to see an injured fisherman? He saw a monster I¡¯m looking into, so I want to ask him some questions.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you must mean Bert. The monster would be Sally of the Water, I¡¯m assuming.¡±


    Ash nodded, and the blonde pointed to the door to her right.


    ¡°Straight through there, you¡¯ll find his room. We don¡¯t keep many patients here, but Healer Shawna wanted to monitor him closely. Head on through!¡±


    Ash smiled and walked through the door.


    Beyond was a hallway with three separate open rooms. The rooms were largely empty, with a small single bed each. In the first was a broad-shouldered man with the same weathered skin Ash was getting used to seeing around Brilehaven. His hair was sandy brown, and he was staring into space, wearing a white gown.


    As Ash got closer, he saw that the bed had scripts etched into the frame, glowing pink-red.


    ¡°Hello, Mr. Bert. I¡¯m Ash.¡±


    Bert turned his head to look at him, his green eyes dull.


    ¡°Yeah? What do ya want, kid?¡±


    Ash suppressed the cold irritation he felt at being called a kid.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to ask you about the monster you saw.¡±


    A shudder passed through Bert, and the fisherman looked away.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it. Scram, kid.¡±


    Ash frowned and chose his words with care.


    ¡°Do you want it to happen again?¡±


    Bert shot a scowl his way,


    ¡°What?! Of course I don¡¯t, ya stupid kid.¡±


    Ash crossed his arms,


    ¡°I¡¯m here with a team and our teacher to kill it. We can''t do that if you don¡¯t tell me about it. So come on, cough up the information.¡±


    Bert closed his eyes briefly, swallowing. He struggled to come to a decision; he said,


    ¡°Okay, fine. But I¡¯m not repeating this, yeah?¡±


    Ash bobbed his head in acceptance of his terms.


    ¡°It was night. I was off, so I was enjoying myself with a drink on the shore. Then I heard it,¡± Bert swallowed again, his voice suddenly hoarse, ¡°This singin¡¯. Never heard anythin¡¯ like it before, ya know? It was so¡­so¡­beautiful. I couldn¡¯t tear my attention away and wanted to hear more. So I..followed it.¡±


    Bert stared, clearly lost in the memory. Ash waited until the man finally continued,


    ¡°Over the water was this woman. Most beautiful woman I¡¯ve ever lain my eyes on, I swear it on my dead Ma. She was lookin¡¯ at me with this¡­like she wanted me, ya know what I mean. I¡­wanted her¡­and I wasn¡¯t exactly thinkin¡¯ straight. I got closer¡­¡± Bert¡¯s voice started to quiver.


    ¡°She changed. Her hands morphed into these terrible claws, and the next thing I knew, I was lyin¡¯ there, bleedin¡¯ and in so much pain. If my fellow fishermen hadn¡¯t heard my screamin¡¯ and come to take me as quick as they could to the healer, I¡¯d be dead.¡±


    Bert lifted his gown, and Ash was grateful he had on pants.


    Large scars like slashes from a considerable creature ran from him to shoulder. They were angry red, like thick leeches growing fat off his blood and about to burst at any moment.


    ¡°They open up at night. It ain¡¯t natural, and I wake up bleedin¡¯ and screamin¡¯. Healer Shawna says she¡¯s waitin¡¯ on an adventurer healer to come check me out. She had this bed with these scripts, and it¡¯s the only thing keepin¡¯ me alive. Does that answer your questions, boy?¡±


    Ash felt a pang of sympathy for the man; he couldn¡¯t imagine living in such a way.


    ¡°Almost. Where, exactly, did you see her?¡±


    ¡°It was past the elder¡¯s home aways, the empty stretch of shore. Now, go. Please. I wanna get what rest I can afore the screamin¡¯ starts again.¡±


    Ash winced but nodded. He had bothered the poor man enough. He wanted to say something, offer even a little comfort. In the end, all he could say was,


    ¡°If it helps at all, we will kill this thing.¡±


    Bert grunted.


    He turned and left.


    He had to report to the others.

 Chapter Fifteen: Half-Elves

    Chapter Fifteen: Half-Elves


    ¡°A few people have claimed to have felt the monster or seen glimpses of it, but nothing concrete. Um, sorry?¡± Rosalia offered after they had all set down.


    Amalia looked at the others.


    Will held up empty hands,


    ¡°Nadda, zip, zilch, big ol¡¯ goose egg.¡±


    Rosalia giggled, ears going pink. Ash tried very hard not to scowl.


    Nick grunted,


    ¡°All I could get was something about light-cursed singing.¡±


    Ash cleared his throat, and all sets of eyes turned his way. He rubbed the back of his neck and then explained what he had learned.


    ¡°Feel like we wasted our shadow damned time. Course the elder knew; he¡¯s the one who posted the notice, to begin with!¡±


    ¡°Ah well, at least I got to see sights. The shar ocean looks pretty this time of year.¡±


    Rosalia laughed,


    ¡°You¡¯ve never been here before, silly! How could you know?¡±


    Will tapped his nose,


    ¡°I happen to be a well-read man!¡±


    Nick chuckled,


    ¡°And I¡¯m the hero of light reborn!¡±


    Even Ash laughed a bit, despite his intense dislike for the way Rosalia was looking at Will right now.


    ¡°We are dealing with a night maiden.¡±


    Everyone looked over at Amalia. Ash raised a hand,


    ¡°Uhh¡­what is that? I get that you¡¯re talking about the monster, but clarification would be nice.¡±


    Amalia tapped a nail on the table.


    ¡°Night maidens are the manifestation of the betrayed souls of dead young women. Usually betrayed by a lover, they die as a result of that betrayal, and thus, a night maiden is born.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s so sad¡­¡± Rosalia lamented.


    ¡°Mm. It means we will have to take extra steps if we wish to harm her.¡±


    Will raised an eyebrow,


    ¡°What extra steps? Use the pointy end of our swords a few times, and presto! Dead monster.¡±


    ¡°Would that it were so simple, Master Al¡¯Seen. You will learn more at the academy, but it suffices to say that some monsters cannot be harmed by conventional means unless steps are taken. Some require special weapons to be defeated. In this case, a wraith oil, a blessing, and a script should be sufficient.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m going to need all of that explained. Preferably in small words,¡± Will said dryly.


    ¡°Master Al¡¯Smith, you must fetch us some things from the market. I will give you a list. Master Al¡¯Seen, you will be coming with me to purchase weapons and have them blessed. Master Lorcan and Miss Va¡¯Sear, you shall investigate local deaths, in particular, any young women who have died recently. Expect some resistance, but I trust in your problem-solving skills.¡±


    Amalia waved a dismissive hand, and they got to work.


    __________This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡°This is all so exciting, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Ash shrugged.


    ¡°New places, and we are learning to fight! And magic!¡±


    Her ears went bright pink, and she looked away.


    ¡°Oh, sorry. I didn¡¯t mean¡­¡±


    Ash sighed,


    ¡°I¡¯m not a cripple, Rosalia.¡±


    She bit her lip, wringing her hands.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to say-¡± Ash slashed a hand, cutting her off.


    ¡°I know. But all of you treating me like I¡¯m an invalid is getting old. Look!¡±


    He held up both hands, ¡°These still work,¡± he pulled at his ears, then lifted one foot after the other, wriggling them.


    ¡°I can still hear, still speak, and my feet work, too!¡±


    Rosalia frowned, her green eyes flashing,


    ¡°I get your point, Ash. You don¡¯t have to be a light cursed ass about it.¡±


    He grunted,


    ¡°Maybe I do. I haven¡¯t exactly hidden how I feel about the situation. You can all see it, but you do it anyway.¡±


    She had the decency to look guilty. She sighed a moment later,


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ll try to do better.


    Ash nodded,


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m sorry, too. I know I¡¯ve added to the tension. We¡¯ve all been through a lot the last few days.¡±


    Rosalia grinned, bumping his shoulder with her own.


    ¡°Look at us acting like two mature adults! Anyway, where should we start?¡±


    Ash rubbed his chin,


    ¡°There¡¯s a couple of options. We could talk to the receptionist at the healers. She seemed open. Or we could try the elder I spoke to. But I don¡¯t think he wants to be bothered.¡±


    Rosalia tapped her chin with a finger, looking up in thought.


    ¡°Why not try the healer? Prefer to deal with a nice person!¡±


    Ash led her to the healer¡¯s home, passing people going about their daily errands as they did.


    It was less busy this time, the receptionist smiling wide when she saw him.


    ¡°You¡¯ve returned! I¡¯m afraid mister Bert is sleeping right now. Healer Shawna doesn¡¯t want him disturbed.¡±


    Ash offered her a smile,


    ¡°Hello. We¡¯re here to talk to you.¡±


    ¡°Oh? How can I help?¡±


    Ash pointed at Rosalia,


    ¡°This is my friend Rosalia, and I¡¯m Ash. As I said earlier, we are hunting the monster, Sally of The Water.¡±


    She smiled again,


    ¡°Nice to meet you! I¡¯m Sara. I don¡¯t know how to help, but ask away.¡±


    ¡°We are looking into the deaths of young women. We think that it¡¯s related to the monster. Are there any young women who passed away recently that maybe had a relationship go sour?¡±


    Sara leaned back, reaching up a hand she pulled on her earlobe, brows furrowing.


    ¡°Let me think¡­¡±


    She chewed on her cheek, drumming her fingers on her desk.


    ¡°I can¡¯t say I kept up with the local gossip. However, three young women have passed in the last few months: Adra Clear, Raisha Al¡¯Carpenter, and Arisa Bell.¡±


    ¡°Do you know where we can find their families?¡± Rosalia asked.


    Sara nodded,


    ¡°I do. Just be gentle, okay? They¡¯ve been through a lot.¡±


    Rosalia smiled gently,


    ¡°Of course we will. We just want to stop the killing.¡±


    Looking at Ash, he nodded at her, and they departed after Sara handed them a slip of paper with the addresses on it.


    __________


    ¡°That was a dud. There are no romantic entanglements for the first two.¡± Rosalia looked as if she had just bit into a lemon.


    ¡°It must be this last one, then.¡±


    Rosalia didn¡¯t look so sure.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to disappoint Miss Amalia.¡±


    Ash snorted,


    ¡°You have about as much chance of doing that than disappointing a stone.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re too hard on her, you know that?¡±


    Ash started, working his mouth like chewing on a piece of gristle.


    ¡°Me? Hard on her?! Hardly.¡±


    Rosalia shook her head, eyes closing briefly.


    ¡°No, you are. She saved our lives. She trains us every day. Think about it, have you ever thanked her for that? Have you ever considered how she¡¯s been feeling about this?¡±


    Ash scowled, kicking a rock on the road and shoving hands into his pockets.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. She knows Rosalia. She knows who that figure was and why they were there. Yet she holds the information for ransom! Making us go to this school, train, and now fight monsters! You can¡¯t seriously tell me all that is fine with you.¡±


    Rosalia held up her hands,


    ¡°You¡¯re right. She does know. That means there could be very good, very real reasons she isn¡¯t telling us. You¡¯re being short-sighted, Ash.¡±


    He looked away, grunting.


    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±


    The home was small, and if there was a bad part of town, this was it. The buildings were more run down, and the people looked dejected. They had passed a few men passed out in a ditch. It smelled, too. The stench was like rotting fish and days-old garbage. Mixing with the air that came from the ocean, it permeated everything.


    Ash fought the urge to wrinkle his nose as he knocked on the door.


    A haggard-looking elf woman answered the door. Even haggard, she was beautiful. Her platinum hair was matted but still lent her an otherworldly quality. Her ears were pointed out widely to the side rather than up, and her hazel eyes gleamed with flecks of gold.


    She wore a simple brown garb that was at least clean. Deep bags were under her eyes,


    ¡°Yes?¡± She sounded utterly spent, as if she were ready to drop any moment.


    ¡°Uh, hello, ma¡¯am. Are you perhaps the mother of Arisa Bell?¡±


    A mute nod.


    Ash and Rosalia shared a glance. Rosalia cleared her throat,


    ¡°Yes, well, we wanted to ask you a few questions about your daughter, ma¡¯am. Is it related to the monster you might have heard about?¡±


    A large man with a lion mane of hair appeared from behind her,


    ¡°We just want ta be left alone, ya hear?¡±


    Ash raised a placating hand,


    ¡°I understand, sir. But people are dying. As hard as it is, this could be important.¡±


    He shared a glance with his elven wife, then sighed.


    ¡°Ya better come on in, then.¡±


    Ash entered with Rosalia.


    He had a feeling they had found the right place.

 Chapter Sixteen: Reality

    Chapter Sixteen: Reality


    The inside was clean but sparse. There was a table, a very small kitchen, and a bed area tucked off to the side. There was also a couch and a very ragged-looking carpet, but that was it.


    Not entirely, Ash thought. There were bright, colorful drawings all around the room. One in particular drew his attention, one of the ocean. The artist had done a great job of using lighter colors to play across the water.


    Whoever had drawn it had amazing talent.


    ¡°Arisa drew these. She was always drawing, creating fantastic images like these. She would go out to the sea and draw and draw.¡±


    Rosalia smiled gently as she sat on the couch,


    ¡°These are beautiful. I hate to pry, but was Arisa involved with anyone before she passed away? Or maybe had feelings for anyone?¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯s that relevant?¡±


    The father interjected, his voice gruff.


    Ash held up a hand,


    ¡°Maybe let¡¯s walk it back. I¡¯m Ash, and this is Rosalia. Sorry, we didn¡¯t introduce ourselves before.¡±


    The father grunted,


    ¡°I¡¯m Holt. My wife¡¯s name is Lea. Now, what¡¯s this about, eh?¡±


    Ash tried for a smile,


    ¡°We really do need to know about your daughter¡¯s relationship. It¡¯s a lot to explain, but I promise, it¡¯s related to the monster.¡±


    Lea looked at her husband, and Ash nearly felt his mouth fall open. She was crying.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just tell them, Holt. It¡¯s not like it matters! I don¡¯t care if they know!¡±


    Holt went to his wife and pulled her into a hug. He kissed the top of her head,


    ¡°If you want, love.¡±


    Holt turned to them and coughed, then swallowed.


    ¡°Arisa was a half-elf.¡±


    He delivered it like he was delivering news of a terminal illness. Rosalia scrunched her brows, ears moving,


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    Holt looked at her,


    ¡°How do you not know? You¡¯re half-elf, aren¡¯t ya?¡±


    Rosalia nodded,


    ¡°Yeah, my Mom was an elf. What of it?¡±


    Holt and Lea shared a glance. Lea sniffled,


    ¡°Do you¡­truly not understand?¡±


    Rosalia frowned, shaking her head.


    ¡°Half-elves¡­they aren¡¯t treated well. In Aerlia, they are fairly tolerated. But in Elendari? They are considered less valuable than some cattle. They call them mixed-bloods, or shashti, unclean.¡± Lea explained, wiping her eyes.


    Rosalia put a hand over her mouth, This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°That¡¯s horrible! Why? I don¡¯t get how anyone could have that kind of view of another person.¡±


    Lea laughed, but there was no humor in it.


    ¡°When has anyone ever needed a reason to hate anyone else? Light, but you¡¯re young. If you need a reason, they claim it is because humans are inferior and that by mixing your blood, you have deprived Elendari of a true elf.¡±


    Rosalia¡¯s eyes began to water,


    ¡°That¡¯s terrible! What a horrible view to have!¡±


    Lea sniffed,


    ¡°It¡¯s almost refreshing to see people who don¡¯t know such hate. Please, don¡¯t get the wrong view. I love my people, and there are many there who are fighting to get half-elves out of the nation, smuggling them here to Aria, where they are not so hated. It was how I came to be here. I fled with my daughter, and we met Holt here.¡± Lea reached out and squeezed her husband¡¯s hand.


    Lea turned back to Rosalia,


    ¡°While they do that, they also fight to change the culture and to change the laws regarding half-elves. It is one of the core issues of our entire nation.¡±


    Ash cleared his throat,


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry that happened to you and you were so affected. But you said that Aleria doesn¡¯t treat them the same. How could your daughter have died because of it?¡±


    Holt spoke up, his eyes hard,


    ¡°It happened because of that noble brat from the Silverbloods.¡±


    Lea nodded,


    ¡°He came here from Elandari, and his ship arrived not too long ago. He saw Arisa as he disembarked and claimed he was smitten with her at first sight. They talked for hours. Holt and I, we weren¡¯t okay with it.¡±


    Lea looked almost ashamed, closing her eyes as tears fell in large drops.


    ¡°We told her to cut it off, that it would never end well. But she said we didn¡¯t understand that he treated her like a princess. That we wanted her to be miserable.¡±


    Holt kissed the top of his wife¡¯s head as she let out a keening sob.


    Rosalia was openly crying, and Ash felt ice run through his veins. He didn¡¯t know the full story, but he saw where this was going.


    ¡°He took her out one night, a romantic night on the water, he called it.¡±


    ¡°Then he drowned her,¡± Holt cut in, voice rough with emotion.


    Ash looked away, color draining from him.


    ¡°How did you know?¡± Ash asked hoarsely.


    ¡°Because he came and told us he did it. Said I should take it as a lesson never to spread my legs for a human again. Then he laughed, claiming he did the world a favor.¡± Lea¡¯s hands balled up, pressing into the couch.


    ¡°Half-elves are playthings to them. He made my daughter feel special, and then he killed her, and it meant no more to him than discarding a broken tool.¡±


    Ash felt the grief and rage from the parents like an oppressive weight. It threatened to smother them all.


    He was tempted to let it.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t Aleria do anything about it? That¡¯s murder!¡±


    Holt laughed,


    ¡°What evidence did we have? It was our word against his, and he¡¯s a powerful noble with connections. We¡¯re no one. Just people.¡±


    ¡°Nobles are meant to be better than that. They¡¯re given the power to care for the people, to better us. Not take advantage.¡± Ash rubbed the back of his neck at the looks he got,


    ¡°So I read anyway.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s written in books is all nice and flowery at times, lad, but it isn¡¯t reality. This is. Now, some nobles are probably just dandy, but power corrupts. You best learn that now.¡±


    Ash didn¡¯t argue with him.


    ¡°Do you know where she was drowned?¡±


    Holt grunted,


    ¡°Off the wharf aways. If you just head off the pier and go out a few miles, you¡¯ll find the spot.¡± Holt hesitated, then added, ¡°If you go out there¡­and maybe if you fancy a spot of diving, I¡¯d sure like to get Arisa¡¯s locket back. It was a simple thing, not expensive, but we gave it to her for her tenth birthday, and she wore it everywhere. We¡¯d love to have it back.¡±


    They had what they came for, but it didn¡¯t feel like enough. Yes, he and Rosalia didn¡¯t need anything more from them, but it felt wrong to leave it there.


    Unsure, he said,


    ¡°Rosalia and I have some time¡­do you maybe want to tell us about Arisa? What was she like?¡±


    For the next hour, Lea and Holt talked of their daughter. She liked to draw from an early age, and she had an inquisitive nature and the ability to experiment with everything.


    ¡°She liked to grab my beard and pull as hard as she could,¡± Holt said, laughing as he pulled on his beard.


    Lea talked about how Arisa liked to cook with her and sing silly songs with words that didn¡¯t rhyme.


    ¡°They were just nonsense words, but oh light, we had so much fun!¡±


    Ash and Rosalia laughed, and after some time, they stood up.


    ¡°We need to be going. We¡¯re sorry for your loss, but if we can find that locket, I promise we¡¯ll bring it here.¡±


    Holt shook Ash¡¯s hand, his grip impossibly tight.


    Then, it was time for Ash and Rosalia to return.


    They didn¡¯t have a monster to kill, but a young woman to put to rest.