Chapter Twenty-Two: Trials

Wood smacked against Ash’s neck, sending a stinging sensation through him. He winced, slapping his hand over his neck.

“Better, but still dead,” Amalia stated calmly.

She lowered her practice blade, and sat down by the fire that flickered and crackled merrily. A full moon hung in a night sky full of stars, silver light dancing amongst the trees and casting shadows that played in the firelight.

A wolf howled in the distance, and air pushed a twig along the ground. It was a beautiful night, and Ash was spending it sore and tired.

“I don’t know why you insist I keep practicing my swordplay. Without elar, it won’t mean anything.”

Amalia gazed into the fire, her amethyst eyes like orbs of shadows. If it wasn’t for her attitude, Ash would have said she was truly one of the most gorgeous women he had ever met. But whenever he noticed that about his seemingly reluctant teacher, he remembered that she was essentially blackmailing him, and had a personality colder than the heart of winter.

“Your attempts are amusing, but grow tiring every time you try, master Lorcan.”

“Attempts at what?”

Amalia said nothing, and Ash sighed, running a hand through his ashen hair.

He had been trying to get her to reveal why they were going to Drakosia. He hoped it had something to do with bridging that chasm within himself, which would grant him access to his elan, and therefore, his elar.

Drakosia had been the city of the dragon lords, and Amalia had said he needed a dragon.

Ash may have been sixteen, with a lot to learn, but he wasn’t stupid. Well, most days I’m not, he thought self-deprecatingly. He had been told he needed a dragon, and now they were going to the city of dragons.

It felt obvious to him.

Except the city was no longer there. It was nothing but ruins now. Burnt buildings and ashes as far as the eye could see. Or so he had heard.

How could a dragon be there? Someone would have noticed by now.

Over the week they had been traveling, he had been prodding at her. He was no master with words, but he tried to get her to answer it by answering something seemingly unrelated.

It hadn’t been working.

Amalia insisted he train, and would tell him nothing he tried to pry out of her.

His frustration was always short-lived. This was how she had been since the beginning, and while he didn’t like it, he was growing used to the treatment.

He didn’t even think Amalia was doing it out of dislike or some desire to make him mad. She had reasons, and to her, they were good ones.

He was making progress with the sword. Amalia hardly corrected him anymore, and at one point, he had even gotten an ever so slight eye raise out of her.

He tried to sear that memory into his brain. It was as good as a compliment to him.

Every day they drew closer to Drakosia. Sometimes, they passed other travelers, and once a trader. Amalia bought nothing from the man and his cart, however. At the end of every day, they trained. Ash’s physical exercise had been shortened, in favor of focusing on the blade.

Amalia taught him two other forms.

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Heart of The Frost Dragon, and Frost Dragon’s breath.

One was defensive in nature, a stance designed to endure.

While the ladder was full, crushing offense with the sword. Amalia had not said whether he mastered them yet, but he felt like he was close.

She still won every single match, even without elar. She possessed experience that dwarfed any talent he had by far.

She also had elar to fall back on if that wasn’t enough.

Ash did not.

__________

On the twelfth day, Ash and Amalia reached Drakosia.

What he had expected, was what he saw. Outstretched before him was a field of ash, with the occasional building blacker than tar. He almost thought it was snow at first glance.

He had no idea why the ash had not yet blown away, especially in sixteen years, but something seemed to keep it there. Ash followed Amalia, a sense of familiarity settling into his steps as if he were back on the farm.

Wind blew, folding over him like a welcoming embrace.

None of the ashes stirred.

They trudged along, with Ash looking hopefully around for a dragon. There was none in sight that he could see. Finally, they came to a stop. Ash couldn’t say how he knew, but they were standing in the center of the field of ashes.

Then Amalia spoke a word. A word he had never heard before, but knew anyway. She spoke it in a guttural, growling tongue like burning fire and booming thunder.

“OPEN.”

Wind swirled, twisting and twirling, folding in on itself in a mini vortex that fell upon the ground. Radiant silver light spun from it, a thread of molten silver that cast shadows on the ash.

Faster still it spun, until all settled.

Like a mirror, silver shimmered, and light spilled forth like a frothing waterfall.

Amalia gestured,

“Enter the portal, Ash. Here is the first step.”

He swallowed, his throat bobbing.

Steeling his nerves, he stepped into the portal.

________________

ASH LORCAN.

A voice older than mountains, louder than a crashing wave, and yet as soft as a whisper upon the wind, spoke to him from nowhere.

He blinked his eyes open, finding himself in a room of utter blackness. He felt weightless, and he couldn’t feel his physical body.

Where am I? He thought.

THREE PATHS LAY BEFORE YOU, ASH LORCAN.

A road of pale moonlight shot itself outward.

Another road of rose light expanded, and finally a third road of golden, shimmering power unfolded.

Paths? What is going on?! Ash tried to speak allowed, but no words formed.

ONE PATH LEADS TO THE ETERNAL PEACE OF THE VOID.

The moonlight path rippled in response.

ANOTHER LEADS TO SALVATION FOR YOUR LOVED ONES.

The rose path pulsed, beating like a heart.

THE FINAL PATH LEADS TO POWER BEYOND MORTAL KEN. IT’S PRICE PAID IN THE BLOOD OF CRUSHED LOVE AND DEATH.

The golden path beckoned.

CHOOSE.

The voice rumbled.

Choose? I don't understand! Ash called out with his mind.

CHOOSE, ASH LORCAN.

Choose what!! He thought furiously at the voice.

But it was clear. He needed to pick a path. Except he didn't understand the context. Was it metaphorical? Would all he love really die if he chose the golden path?

Power was what he desperately wanted right now. Not for himself, but precisely because of what he loved.

Yet if he picked it, that would spell disaster.

Yet… it called to him. Power to get answers. To seek revenge.

It was waiting for him. All he need do is choose that path. It whispered to him, showing him using elar like he wanted.

Of laying waste to any who challenged him.

Of protecting the Sally's of the world.

The other two paths were nothing before it.

He felt his consciousness step towards it.

Everything he wanted.

Except his loved ones would die. Oh, maybe not literally. He knew that.

But power could corrupt. Ash had seen the results of what those in power could do to those under them.

It was monstrous.

Ash didn't want power if it meant he could no longer love, or that he became twisted, and corrupted.

He wanted power, but he would build it.

He chose the rose path, because ultimately he wanted to be someone who saved.

Not someone who took.

Radiant flame washed everything in white fire.