Ashes that Do Not Fade

  Ashes, corpses, darkness.

  Embers still burning, even as a soft rain fell through a night that should have been completely dark. Yet the flames remained alive in scattered places, casting a reddish glow that only made what could be seen even worse.

  Between the burning ruins and the rain striking his face, covered in mud and blood, the young man moved forward. His blond hair, once bright, was completely filthy; it almost seemed as if the grime itself had grown darker, as though the night had clung to him. He walked with difficulty, his metal boots producing faint splashing sounds with every step… until, at one point, he removed them in exhaustion. He kept going completely barefoot, caring about nothing except continuing to walk.

  Wounds covered his entire body. His armor had been abandoned somewhere along the way; he no longer needed it. There was no one left standing who would require it.

  No enemies.

  No allies.

  No living being.

  No one.

  Only the heat of a lost war.

  A war no one won.

  And one no one asked for.

  In his hand, he still held a sword that seemed impossible to let go of. It glimmered faintly with a silver hue; it looked like one of those ceremonial swords used only for important moments, such as the knighting of nobles. However, the blade covered in blood made it clear that it had not been used for what it was made for. Rain fell against the metal, but it seemed incapable of cleaning it.

  The young man had a deep gash across his chest, a wound that still seemed to bleed, as if something had pierced him straight through. Even so, he remained alive, despite such a mortal injury. And even so, he kept moving forward.

  His steps grew heavier as he looked around. The city, once bustling, with people shopping, being happy, being sad, living, was now drowned in a brutal silence. Where a shop was supposed to be, there had been a young woman who always greeted him when she saw him pass by. She clearly liked him, and the young man seemed to enjoy talking with her. Now, her corpse lay beneath the rubble, half burned; her hair was barely recognizable, completely caked in mud.

  The man approached her and dug into the ground as if trying to pull her free, but his hands trembled more and more; it was obvious that he understood how useless it was. His empty gaze knew it all too well.

  So he simply gave up. He stood again and continued walking. Like a penance, to witness everything that remained of what he had failed to protect.

  The fountain where couples once strolled and laughed was now destroyed, stained with blood across the ground; the water was murky, tainted. It was almost as dark as his soul felt now.

  The young man’s breathing began to quicken as he finally understood, or rather accepted, that no one had survived. He raised the hand that still held the silver sword; it trembled, as if it wanted to let go, yet his fingers remained closed with unnatural strength. Blood from the blade slowly dripped onto his skin, as though it were marking him.

  Tears of blood ran down his face.

  He had lost everything.

  He had been unable to save anything.

  He had failed to keep his promise.

  Even when he was forced to face what he never wanted to face, the result was still the same as what now lay before him.

  He fell to his knees as thunder lit up the sky. That light revealed a massive circular sphere surrounding the ruined city, as if it had been cut off from the rest of the world.

  Kneeling, the young man lifted his face to the freezing rain and let out a scream so raw it felt as if it would tear his vocal cords apart. A scream filled with rage, with guilt, with pain, with loneliness.

  …

  Dred slowly opened his eyes as he sensed movement nearby. He was lying on a couch he often used for naps. He lifted his head slightly and glanced to the side.

  There, two small heads of black hair moved behind the couch, as if they were closely studying something. It was Harry and Percy, slightly crouched, whispering to each other.

  “Do you think cousin Dred will get mad if I take his sword?” Percy asked, staring at the sword resting against the back of the couch before turning to look at his brother, who watched him with a very serious expression.

  “I’m sure he will. And because of you, he’ll make us train until we drop… again,” Harry replied, though his face showed a hint of interest as well.

  “Do you think it’s stronger than the sword Aunt Mor gave me?” Percy asked.

  “Well… hmm… we can’t really know that until we actually see it. Dred never takes it out of its sheath,” Harry said, his curiosity growing even more because of his brother.

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  “Either way, he’ll make us train, so ending up exhausted isn’t such a bad punishment if we get to see it, right?” Percy said, wearing an expression that made him look like a little demon of temptation.

  “Well… I guess,” Harry agreed.

  Percy showed a faint smile as he reached out to take the sword, only to frown in confusion a moment later.

  “What is it?” Harry asked, noticing his reaction and seeing that he wasn’t lifting it.

  “Uh… nothing. It’s just a bit heavier than I thought,” Percy said, shifting his stance. He grabbed the sword with both hands and pulled, but it did not move even a single centimeter, as if it weighed tons.

  “What are you doing?” Harry asked, looking at him strangely.

  “I told you it’s really heavy. I can’t lift it,” Percy replied as he kept pulling.

  “How heavy could it be? It’s just resting on the couch,” Harry said, looking at him as if Percy were joking.

  “Try it,” Percy said, slightly annoyed after failing to move it.

  Harry stood up, placed one hand on the sword, and pulled. His eyes widened when he realized Percy was right, so he used both hands and pulled harder, his face turning a bit red.

  “Wow… you were right. It really is heavy,” Harry said, letting it go.

  Percy quickly stepped closer, and the two of them began pulling together, grunting and making quite a bit of noise in the attempt, completely forgetting that they were not supposed to wake Dred.

  “It’s impossible,” Percy said, giving up. Harry nodded while wiping the sweat from his forehead.

  “Do you think it has some kind of secret word to activate it or something?” Percy asked.

  “Why would a sword have something like that?” Harry replied, as if the idea were ridiculous. Then he added, “Maybe you simply have to be chosen by it.”

  From Percy’s expression, it was clear that he could not find any sense in that idea.

  “Simply not wanting to hold it is enough to be able to hold it,” a voice suddenly said.

  Harry and Percy froze completely.

  It was Dred, watching them with a smile very similar to Aunt Mor’s whenever she was about to punish them.

  Without thinking twice, Harry and Percy turned around and started running. They did not get very far. Dred appeared behind them as if he had teleported and grabbed them by the backs of their clothes, dragging them along effortlessly.

  “You arrived just in time. I prepared some light training for you,” Dred said with a smile, while Harry and Percy could do nothing but let themselves be carried along.

  Harry, however, kept thinking about what Dred had said.

  “What do you mean by not wanting to hold it being enough to hold it?” he asked, feeling that it made no sense at all.

  Dred looked at him for a moment before answering, never stopping as he walked with both of them in his grasp.

  “Because it was never a sword meant for combat,” was all he said. That only left more questions than answers, but his silence felt like another answer as he continued on his way.

  Harry and Percy exchanged confused looks. They did not fully understand the meaning behind it, but both felt it would not be a good idea to ask too much.

  As Percy noticed they were approaching the training area, he could not help but squirm.

  “Wait, cousin Dred, wait. We can’t train today. We have a lot of things to prepare for our trip. We came to tell you that we won’t be around for a while,” Percy said quickly.

  Dred stopped and looked at him calmly.

  “A trip? Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To the United States,” Harry replied, while Percy nodded rapidly.

  Dred released them and observed them for a moment, as if expecting something more than just that answer. With only his gaze, Harry and Percy seemed to understand.

  They looked at each other. Harry gave a slight nod.

  “You might not believe us, but during our time at Hogwarts we discovered something. It could be pure fantasy, and you might even think we’re crazy. But in reality, we are…” Percy began, circling around his words.

  “Demigods. I already know,” Dred said, interrupting him without hesitation.

  Harry and Percy stared at him in shock.

  “Wait, you knew?” Harry asked, utterly confused. “Since when? How?” he added.

  “Does everyone in our family know except us?” Percy blurted out immediately.

  Dred smiled faintly.

  “I’ve always known, from the very first day you arrived here. You’re the only ones who could pass through because of your divine blood,” he explained with complete calm. “Besides, it’s no surprise to me. After all, I’m a Legacy, the son of a demigod.”

  That only managed to shock them even more.

  Seeing their expressions, Dred could not help but laugh.

  “My mother didn’t tell you? Well, it’s obvious she wouldn’t like saying it,” he added casually.

  Percy held his head with one hand, trying to process everything, completely confused. Harry, on the other hand, adopted a more serious expression before looking at Dred.

  “If it’s because of our blood that we can enter this place, then… was it a god who trapped you here?” he asked, connecting the dots.

  Dred looked at him with a smile, but did not answer. Instead, he gave him a light tap on the forehead.

  “If you’re going to the United States, that means the West has moved. What did my mother say about you going there?” Dred asked.

  “The West?” Percy, who was already confused, only felt even more lost.

  “Aunt Mor didn’t tell us much. Just that this time we’re going early and staying for a while while she prepares protections around the area against monsters. That way, when we come back, things will be calmer. She also said we’ll be able to go out, since we’ve been locked up since we returned from Hogwarts and… I don’t remember what else she said about getting slaves or helpers,” Harry replied, thinking carefully.

  “Hmm… really? That’s strange of her, letting you go,” Dred murmured for a moment.

  He moved his right hand, and it brushed lightly against the hilt of the sword hanging at his waist. When Harry noticed it, he was momentarily surprised.

  “Then you should be careful. And don’t trust anyone…” Dred began.

  Before he could finish, Percy let out a small shout, as if he had just remembered something important.

  “That’s right. I had a strange dream… and I just remembered it,” he said out of nowhere.

  Harry looked at him as if he were seeing an idiot.

  “And what does that have to do with now?” he asked.

  “It does have to do with it. I remember Dred being there. There was a golden sword, ghosts, and a man who looked a lot like him, except with blond hair and a truly unpleasant gaze,” Percy explained.

  Upon hearing that, Dred’s expression turned completely serious, his eyes locking onto Percy without looking away.