Novels2Search
Cinder
Burnt to Ash

Burnt to Ash

A thrumming hum disturbed the otherwise serene atmosphere in the chamber. A lavishly decorated abode, gilded floor to ceiling in arcaneoconductive gems and metals that would make even a revered archmage drool with greed for the precious objects. It had a very high rise ceiling, with shunts right below it that allowed for ventilation. A quick glance would reveal the peculiarity of a lack of any sort of entryway or windows. Despite the quality of the construction, the inside was sparsely furnished, with just a fancy table and a set of equally fancy chairs present, besides the comfortable looking bed in the corner. 

A man was sitting on one of the chairs, twirling the object responsible for the thrum inbetween his fingers, a glass tube encased in a golden sleeve, runes written on the side of it, presumably to mark the owner or maker. He was tall and lean, his silver eyes focused on the tube in one of his hands, as the other pushed his similarly silvery hair behind one of his long pointed ears. The brows sitting above his aquiline nose scrunched up, as the thrum intensified, along with a glow from the gems in the room. 

Seemingly bored of the activity, the tube vanished with a flick of his wrist, as he made to get up from the chair. His eyes darted around, not to scan the overly familiar room, heavens no, he knew it better than his old home at this point, but instead to study whatever caused the disturbance he felt in the flow of mana. It had been happening more often as of late, a small ripple at first, disturbing his serene self-internment, but it had grown. From a ripple, to a tremor, the arcane shivering now even affected the physical world, the furniture in the room clattering against the marble floor.

He smiled, recalling Laevis, his space magic obsessed friend who would no doubt have an explanation for whatever caused those tremors. Nonetheless, they were a welcome break from his now monotonous routine.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A girl ran as fast as her legs allowed for, desperate to get as far away as possible from the village. Although she was already ten minutes away from the gates, and well inside the forest, the disgusting smell of burning flesh still stuck to her nose. 

The young girl stumbled, before teetering to a stop.

“Urp!” a metallic smell wafted into her nose, pushing her over the edge and causing her to heave, before emptying her stomach. 

She plopped her behind down on a soft patch of moss, before looking towards the village. Although the village was already hidden by the trees she ran past, the plumes of dark smoke rising from it were still visible. 

“Fuck, fuck, arcane damn it, why?!” 

Frustration boiled inside of her as the girl lamented, causing tears to cloud her sight. Just this morning, the day had started off as it normally would, she fetched water, then she helped her father crush some woad leaves to make dye. Because she was diligent with her chores, she had finished quickly and was about to go hang out with Kean at the pub and listen to some more of his monster slaying adventures, his stories laden with profanity and activities a twelve year old girl shouldn’t even know exist. He even claimed to have slain a Doomdrake, though even the girl knew it was a bit of a tall tale. But instead those deserter dogs barged into the village, demanding asylum and food as they fled the war like cowards.  

Obliging was a given in that situation, but as Kean would put it, “he couldn’t hold it in his pants”, and he chose to show off in the most terrible of circumstances. 

She remembered the bastard at the front barely even budged from Kean’s punch, returning the favor with a spiked gauntlet to the skull. Kean fell after a sickening crunch, as the men drew their swords and almost gleefully started hacking into the villagers without abandon, as if this is what they really wanted to happen in the first place. Worst of all, they weren’t even wearing Valkian colors, but those of Ulmburgh.

 The girl bolted out of there, trying to get to her family, but the soldiers had already gone that way, so she ran out of the village, past the creek, and into the forest.

“You motherfuckers!”

The girl’s voice erupted towards the village, as tears flowed down her cheeks, hyperventilating and sobbing at the same time.

Her muscles relaxed a bit, and she was just about ready to collapse, when a twinkle in the distance caught her eye. A dagger landed a couple of feet in front of her, all of her muscles seizing and the blood in her body freezing. The guffawing in the distance snapped her out of it. It was a group of men, presumably making a sport out of hunting the villagers down. 

The only thing she knew was that she wouldn’t wait to find out. Adrenaline coursing through her once again, she took off, and she ran east for a while, before making a left and heading north, towards the river and hopefully, the mountains. Not used to running through such thick foliage, she was buffeted by thin branches and spines, some catching on her clothes, putting big tears in the already old dress shirt and pants. She thought her mother would be furious, but she would take that anytime over not seeing her ever again. She kept running, even as she made it past the old church of Erdanur.

The young girl contemplated taking shelter inside as the skies began to turn orange, but there were no guarantees the pursuers wouldn’t make it this far. Besides, the old dilapidated building could prove to be more hazard than shelter, its collapsed roof and unhinged doors giving off the vibe of a monster lair rather than a holy sanctum from an ancient past.

The girl’s teacher in the village, Truda the apothecary had told her stories about the elves, and how the people of ancient Ulm worshipped them, but they slowly faded away, and so did the faith. 

The girl noticed her pace had slowed down greatly. She wasn’t even running anymore, as she was just dragging her feet across the forest floor. Her leather foot wraps had turned into a mangled mess, and the blisters on her feet had long popped giving way to deep chafed wounds. This was as far as her running would take her, at least for now.

Her stomach wasn’t really rumbling anymore as much as it was eating itself, all of the movement having consumed a lot of energy, energy she lost along with her half-digested breakfast a while ago. She was beyond hungry, and far beyond tired.

She began searching for food, ignoring mushrooms completely for now, as her expertise was lacking to say the least. Truda used to say she couldn’t tell the difference between a Deer’s Leg and a witch’s arse. Tears clouded her eyes for a moment at the thought of never seeing any of them ever again.

She found a bush of berries near the river, tasting one and waiting for a while to see if it would make her shit out her guts. After seeing that nothing happened, she gorged herself on the entire bush, wading through spider webs and whatnot to get to the inner branches.

Turns out, ten minutes didn’t constitute enough time to ascertain if the berries were safe, as a terrible stomach ache and swelling took hold of the young girl. She plopped down on the river bank after drinking some water.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Her tears welled up again. She couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else had made it out, heading north like her. Kean was dead, but maybe Truda, who lived outside the village, Yevik, Niels, her parents? She didn’t dare go look for them, the girl didn’t even know where to start. Maybe running away north like this was a mistake, but the villagers always said fleeing north was best in case of a disaster.

After a while, her stomach settled, but as she got up she realised it did so deceptively, emptying itself of its contents as soon as she was sitting upright. The taste of bile filled her mouth, accentuating the bitterness of her situation.

She got up and grabbed a stick, wading waist deep into the river, keeping her eyes peeled for any fish that might come her way. Of course, she had never done this before, the adults being the ones responsible for providing food in the village. She spent the rest of her daylight trying to catch fish, but to no avail.

 The girl contemplated sleeping there, on the riverbank, or perhaps further inside the forest, but she wasn’t sure she would wake up anymore if she did so, therefore she kept going towards the mountain that still managed to catch some of the sun’s rays, even though the forest was pitch black. As she walked, she noted the terrain was sloping downwards slightly, despite heading towards a tall landmark.

The girl quickly realised that staying waist deep in a cold river for god knows how long, just before night hit might have been a bad idea. She started shivering uncontrollably as more and more of the light faded, only the mountain’s peak catching anymore of the sun’s rays.

As the shivering got worse, and her vision started to blur, a light became visible in the distance. The girl pinched herself, barely feeling it on her numb skin, but the dull pain made her realize she was indeed not dreaming. 

“O-o-oh ar-arcane please!” she begged, her pace picking up in order to reach the light quicker. She was already imagining smiling faces welcoming her, and a warm bedroll awaiting.

Alas, her last shred of enthusiasm was dampened, as the girl was met with a massive doorway in the side of a giant boulder, torches flanking laterally. Looking upwards, she saw the little cliff plateauing into a forest. Although disappointed, she was still gleeful at the prospect of warmth. The shivering girl cautiously approached, a tingling comfort invading her body as she finally felt the warmth of the fire coursing through her. 

Although the fire was comforting, the opening in the cliffside made shivers run up her spine. Inside, she could make out a stairway leading downwards into the bedrock and into its cold, dark depths.

The day was taking its toll, her bleeding feet making even standing a hard to surmount obstacle, and the cold made the little girl clench her jaws so hard she thought her teeth were going to crack. The hunger pangs had taken a backseat to the rest of her troubles, and still, she was much worse off mentally. She couldn’t help but blame herself. For surviving, for making it so far alone while she didn’t even know what fate befell the others. 

She was conflicted. On one hand, she had made it out successfully, survived the pursuit, if there even truly was one beyond hunting her for sport, and she got this far, but she didn’t know what awaited her. Maybe she would die tomorrow, eaten by a pack of wolves or arcane knows what else. In all truth, she might not even make it till daybreak, she was already fighting to stay conscious.

Alone with her thoughts, the girl plucked one of the torches out of its support, and started looking for twigs to build a fire. The forest floor was already damp from condensation because of the drop in temperature, and although she attempted to light the bundle of sticks on fire, it didn’t catch and she didn’t know how to make it work. If her father were here, he could’ve patiently taught her what to do, and that thought made her despair. 

The child pulled at her hair, frustrated by the situation. She looked back towards the cave entrance, the last thing she wanted was having to go in there, thus kept trying to light her fire. Wisps of the torch’s cinders danced through the night air, some landing on her body and ragged clothes, the girl not realising that some of the flickers came from her own body as her frustration increased.

She tried everything, but even if it lit up for a second after the heat dried the leaves and sticks, it would just die out again, as if the heat was being absorbed by something. The girl started hearing rustles too, at first thinking it was just her stomach loudly protesting to the energy expenditure without any compensation though she quickly realised that stomachs don’t rustle. 

Fear of death was a powerful motivator, as she had come to learn during the day. The young child simply grabbed the torch the cave entrance had so generously decided to donate to her, and nonchalantly decided to stroll into the tunnel leading downwards into the boulder. After all, death by creatures of the forest, or creatures of the deep, what was the difference? She would at least try her hand at surviving down there, as the cold outside was more than enough to take her life by morning. 

She was surprised to feel a sense of comfort and warmth as soon as she stepped through the entrance, the previous feeling of dread related to the stairway dissipating completely. Her shivering had stopped as well, although the pain in her feet had exacerbated.

She was definitely being lured downwards by demons probing her mind, is what she thought.

‘What the hell, better to die comfortable than cold and miserable’ she mused. Of course, she knew the idea of demons was silly, but she couldn’t explain the weird sense of security she got, now that she was in the cave, especially compared to what she felt before. As she went down the stairs step by step, she noted strange markings on the walls. In essence, they looked similar to letters, but she definitely could not read them. 

Some time later, the girl wasn’t sure how long, but it felt like an eternity, she arrived in a simple chamber housing a shelf with a library of sorts, as well as various bottled or otherwise stored ingredients, as far as she made them out. A few more steps ahead, there was another set of stairs, leading downwards once again.

“A witch’s abode?”

She grabbed one of the books off the shelf, looking at the front cover. She was happy to realise that she could read the letters on it.

The cover read “Journal of Demonic Anatomy by Neria Laevis, translated into common”.

“Joh-urnal, joe-urnal, how do I say this?”

The girl looked to her left, as if to ask that question to someone. For a moment, she forgot where she was, no doubt the events of the day taking their toll, and the strange comfort giving her a sense of familiarity.

“I think Yevik had a joh-urnal too, but I’m pretty sure he said it differently.”

She made to open the book, but she was interrupted by the sounds of a hummed song, coming from further inside the cave. It sounded jovial and playful, in dissonance with the environment it was taking place in.

Undoubtedly, the young girl was spooked, but the weird comfort from before quickly calmed her down. She decided to grit her teeth and go down there, after all, whether it’s wolves or witches, getting eaten would be equally unpleasant, and the place was awfully comfortable.

After another painful set of stairs later, she arrived into a large chamber. She could see the lights from the stairway, but now that she was inside she couldn’t believe her eyes. The ceiling was lit up by what she could only describe as a small sun, and the floor was covered in lush grass. Verdant trees took up most of the space in the room, and although she knew for sure they were underground, she could feel a breeze.

Underneath the trees swaying in the magical breeze was a woman in front of some sort of stone table. She was gleefully pulling apart the skin of some sort of small horned creature, cutting out the occasional piece of flesh and studying it, all the while humming a pleasant song. Interestingly enough, there was no unpleasant smell or blood.

A terrible sight to behold indeed.

‘I think I’m better off with the fucking wolves.’

She quickly turned around and towards the exit, but she bumped into something that was not there before.

“Careful, girl-child.”

She perceived the voice as if it came from inside her head, not quite hearing it as much as feeling what it meant. It felt soothing and calm, it actually reminded her of Niels the bard, the not so secret crush of every girl and woman in the village. As she looked upwards, she beheld an ornate black robe, covering some sort of lanky man. Or at least she wanted it to be a lanky man, but the further her sight took her, the more her blood froze in her veins.

It wasn’t a pair of delicate hands coming from inside the flared sleeves, but sharp and long claws. Very, sharp and long. Underneath the hood, instead of the visage of a fine man, the skull of a horse awaited her, the blood-red wisps of light in its eye sockets fixated on the girl. 

‘Fuck’ was the last thing her brain could think before everything went dark. 

~Note: I really hope the exposition doesn't feel too jabbery. I enjoyed writing this, and I know it's difficult to judge a book by the first chapter, but I hope it's good and enjoyable to read.~

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter