20.

  Ash

  The memory of her lingered as I turned away, the bond between us pulling at my soul. A strange ache in my heart telling me I already missed her. Was this what love felt like? I could feel her even as I tried to focus, her presence like a beacon of light cutting through the encroaching darkness.

  I wanted to let her know I wouldn’t leave this world without her. But I couldn’t. Not now. No distractions. I had one purpose and that was to buy her time.

  The horde surged toward me, their screeches and howls a cacophony of hatred. I chuckled. They wouldn’t know what was coming for them. I forced my breathing to slow, grounding myself in the moment.

  My fingers twitched as I reached for the Weave, letting the ancient threads of magic flow through me. The spell I needed came to mind, sharp and familiar. I whispered the incantation under my breath, feeling the power build in my core.

  A tingling sensation spread from my chest outward, and the air around me darkened as red mist began to coil and writhe. The mist crept across the ground, obscuring me from their sight while sharpening my own. It was my shield, my weapon. They could not see through it, but I could see everything.

  One of the demons, a hulking beast with taloned claws and glowing eyes, lunged out of the mist, swinging its massive arm. I dodged, rolling to the side as its claws tore through the space where I’d been standing. My heart thundered in my chest. That was close.

  My hands met the damp earth, and I muttered the words to a summoning spell. The air shimmered, and three wraiths materialized from the red mist. Their ethereal forms screeched as they dived toward the nearest target.

  I barely had time to process their battle before a cold, bony hand grabbed me from behind. I gave a startled yelp as I was yanked backward, my body slamming against the ground.

  A skeletal face loomed over me, empty sockets glowing faintly as it let out a guttural hiss. Shivers ran down my spine. Without hesitation, I gripped its neck and twisted hard, the brittle bones snapping under my fingers.

  Rolling away from its collapsing form, I jumped to my feet, drawing the last blade from my sheath.

  The horde pressed closer, their talons, claws and weapons flashing in the dim light. I moved through them like a dancer, the blade in my hand an extension of my will.

  I struck and dodged, parrying blows and slashing at anything that came too close. My breath came in short, sharp sips. My strength was waning, but the magic in my veins kept me upright.

  A demon with burning horns lunged for me, its claws swiping inches from my face. I dropped low, slicing at its knees, and it toppled with a howl. Good.

  I willed the Weave to be my shield, my armour, my weapon. A dagger in my hand gleaming as bright as a star in the darkness. Slicing through magical defences and plated armour. My muscles ached and I felt exhaustion creep in.

  I felt the Weave falter inside me. Hells, my reserves were nearly spent! My breaths came in shallow gasps as I turned in place, the mist swirling, hiding me from the approaching enemies. But the horde was unending. For every demon or undead I struck down, three more took its place, grazing my shoulder and ripping through fabric and skin. Pain flared, but I gritted my teeth and stayed upright.

  The demons surrounded me, their faces twisted with rage and hunger. My vision blurred, my limbs trembled. But even as the mist began to dissipate, I felt a grim satisfaction.

  I had one last magic trick they wouldn’t expect. I had to be quick, because I knew the Fiend was here somewhere. I grinned at the demons and planted my hands on the ground. I pulled at my reserves, the energy rippling outward, catching the horde in its grasp.

  Demonic shrieks filled the air as tendrils of red mist rose like serpents, coiling around them, crushing them. For a moment, I stood tall, my blade gleaming, as chaos erupted around me.

  A stone sank in my stomach the moment he appeared from the mist. A lone silhouette cutting through the crimson mist like a blade. His dark robes and purple cloak billowed around him, his every step a proclamation of dominance.

  The demons parted reverently for him, their growls subdued to whimpers. A low chuckle reached my ears, though he was still several strides away. He approached with deliberate leisure, his hands brushing the tendrils of the red mist I’d created.

  The mist recoiled from its touch, shivering as if burned. My stomach churned, but I forced the fear down, clenching my teeth. I couldn’t afford to falter.

  How long would she need? How far could she get before he caught wind of her trail? Seconds, minutes, whatever time remained, I had to make it count.

  “You disappoint me, my boy.” His voice, melodic yet razor-sharp, sliced through the mist. “You are a traitor. A liar."

  “I’ve done my part,” I spat at him, forcing my voice to hold steady. “The portals in Westray are wide open. I’ve fulfilled your request. I don’t want this pact anymore.”

  His laughter was a thunderclap of mockery, echoing in the pit of my soul.

  “Ah, but this was never a simple exchange. This is a bond, unbroken by your whims. There is no end. No freedom. You’re mine, boy.”

  My fingers flexed, a whisper of an incantation spilling from my lips. Dark green energy coalesced in my palm and shot toward him, but he raised a languid hand. The spell struck his palm and dissipated like smoke, absorbed into his being without so much as a scratch. My heart sank. That attack had cost me, only a faint ember of power remained.

  “Futile,” he sneered, snapping his fingers. The red mist evaporated, leaving me exposed. My summoned wraiths were gone, leaving only the dead and the damned surrounding me. I was alone, utterly defenceless. And he was here, towering over me. The devil who haunted everyone’s nightmares.

  I froze as his hand extended toward me. Pain exploded through my body, searing and unrelenting, as though my veins were filling with molten iron. I screamed, collapsing to the ground, my muscles locking as the agony ravaged me.

  Black tendrils snaked across my skin, spreading like vines of despair. The world blurred, my mind clawing for refuge in memories, anywhere but here.

  ? ? ?

  “Do it again please,” Maeve’s voice echoed through my mind, bright and innocent. She sat across the table, her green eyes wide with anticipation. Her hair, a cascade of black curls, was tied back in a hurried bun. A hopeful smile tugged at her lips.

  “Come on, Ash,” she begged, clapping her hands.

  “Just once.” I chuckled softly and snapped my fingers. The candle between us flared to life, its golden glow reflecting in her eyes. She gasped in delight, clapping her hands again.

  “You have to teach me!” she exclaimed. I shook my head, my smile tinged with sadness.

  “I can’t, Maeve. You know that,” I said as I blew out the candle. Her pout was fleeting, replaced by determination. She stared at the candle, her brow furrowed. When she snapped her fingers, a faint spark danced but fizzled before it could ignite.

  “Almost,” I teased, tousling her hair.

  “Almost,” she echoed, her grin triumphant. The warmth of that memory crumbled as another surged forward, colder and darker.

  My father’s voice, low and sharp, dragged me outside. His elven features were a mask of stern authority, his almond shaped green eyes locking onto mine.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  “I told you son, no magic,” he intoned. I dropped to my knees in the biting winter air, my back bared. The crack of the whip echoed before pain exploded across my shoulders. I gritted my teeth, refusing to cry out. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  The agony melded into the present, the Fiend’s mocking voice slicing through the haze.

  “Had enough, my boy?” his tone dripped with venom, his words a caustic reminder of my failure.

  “You’ll never have her,” I hissed back. He growled and the pain increased. Another memory overtook me. My body taking me away from the torture.

  The darkened room, the stench of illness. My mother lay pale and feverish, her breath ragged. Her dark brown hair plastered to her face and her face contorted in pain.

  The plague was merciless, spreading through the Ancestral Region like wildfire. Leaving victims everywhere in its wake. And there was no cure. My father’s hands trembled as he pressed a cloth to my mother’s brow.

  “You could save her,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “With magic.”

  He turned to me, his expression of sorrow and fury.

  “You think I don’t want to? You think I haven’t thought of it? If the Hunters sense even a flicker of magic, they’ll destroy us all.” His words were a death knell. I knew he wanted to protect us. But it was unfair.

  The door creaked open and Maeve walked in. The youngest of our household. Sweat plastered on her forehead.

  “Da?” she started coughing. All colour drained from my father’s face as he beheld his youngest child. His precious daughter. His only daughter. My heart constricted. No… not Maeve. She’s so young. So precious.

  “My dear, come to me. I’ll take care of you.” My father comforted her and placed her in bed next to her mother. I clenched my fists, rage boiling in my chest. I couldn’t accept it. I wouldn’t.

  “I’ll find a way to save them both,” I promised my father. My father’s silence followed me as I left. The weight of responsibility crushing my resolve. I found my younger brother in the hallway. He looked worried at me as I approached him.

  “I need to go,” I said sternly. “Take care of the family. You’re the oldest son when I’m gone.” He made a move to stop me, but I was too fast and left him staring after me in the hallway.

  Pain pulled me back to the present again. My veins turned black as the Fiend’s poisonous magic caused my body to convulse. I could feel blood dripping from my nose and ears.

  I knew this torture method and it wouldn’t be long before my body would blacken and die. The pain drove my mind back to the past, trying to avoid the impending death.

  “Let me remind you of our deal, my boy,” The Fiend said, his words dragging me back to the present. Another wave of agony tore through me together with his voice whispering in my mind.

  My head throbbed and I found myself squirming on my stomach in the mud. I tried to scream, but only weak whimpers left my mouth. This time the Fiend dragged me back into the past again.

  ? ? ?

  I found myself standing in the Marshes. A place I was driven to by despair. The Necromancers of Orion were too far away to reach for help, I had no choice but to find another way to save Maeve and mother.

  The bright moon lighting up the dark sky and the dark figure in front of me. The tall man with his devilish grin was dressed in a black and red cloak. Similar to the ones the Necromancers were wearing.

  “So, my boy, the conditions are clear?”

  I nodded resolutely.

  “I sign the contract. Give you my soul and…”

  “I’ll cloak your magic for the Hunters, so that you can heal your family without the fear of the Hunters coming for them. And not only that. With your magic you could aid the forces of Orion and help them in their cause to stop the hunt on mages,” the Fiend finished. I nodded again. Pushing away that gnawing feeling of doubt as the Fiend snapped his fingers and a contract written in a demonic language appeared.

  “I need you to sign this,” he commanded. A white feather appeared in the air next to it.

  “There’s no ink,” I responded, trying to keep my voice from quivering.

  “You don’t need ink,” he responded.

  I shrugged and took the feather. As I signed the pact a searing pain branded my shoulder. I pulled down my shirt and looked at the back of my shoulder.

  Blood dripped down my back. And I could see the tip of an infernal sign on my back. This deal was signed in blood on paper and carved onto my body as a reminder of the deal I made.

  ? ? ?

  “Remember, my boy?” the Fiend hissed, his voice like a serpent’s caress. “You belong to me. Just like your precious Faelwen. Your soul is mine.” The mention of her name ignited something within me. Through the haze of agony, I felt the silver thread connecting our souls.

  My Faelwen, my love.

  “There’s no place you can outrun me. Not even in death. In the end I will come and collect your soul together with her,” he continued. I growled in response and the pain again increased. I willed my mind to think of Faelwen. Away from the pain. Away from his truth.

  Just her small frame, tucked against me as she slept in my arms. Her scent… warm and earthy, like a forest after rain. Her quiet strength, her fleeting smile…

  “Ash…”

  Her voice, soft almost a whisper, echoed in my mind as though she were beside me. It pulled me back to the present, where the crushing weight of the Fiend’s presence loomed over me.

  I forced my eyes open, finding myself still sprawled on the cold ground, my body trembling from the torment it had endured. He towered above me, his laughter a dark melody that mocked my pain.

  The bond between us, Faelwen and I, stirred deep within me, a lifeline in the sea of despair. It tugged at my spirit, urging me to move.

  Not here. Not now. She’s waiting. I reached for the teleportation stone, my fingers trembling as they closed around its rough surface. Summoning the last dregs of my strength, I focused all my energy on the incantation.

  My lips moved, the words almost inaudible, carried more by desperation than precision. Her face filled my mind, her smile, her warmth, the way her presence anchored me.

  Those memories burned away my fear, igniting just enough power to cast the spell. The portal crackled into existence before me, a swirling void of possibility.

  The Fiend’s laughter faltered, replaced by a moment of surprise. Before he grinned down at me.

  “Go ahead. Run to her. That will only make it easier for me to catch her,” he purred, a dangerous gleam flickered in his eyes. I lurched to my feet, too scared to stay and too focused on my survival. My body ached and I stumbled through the portal. My legs were weak, but the golden path stretched before me, gleaming with hope, gave me enough energy to run.

  I ran, or at least tried to. Behind me I could hear the Fiend’s roar through the void, a sound of pure delight. The chase was on and he loved it. The portal snapped shut, sealing him on the other side.

  But I wasn’t safe yet. The golden path pulsed beneath my feet, and I forced myself to summon another portal. My magic flickered, but I pushed it harder and a second portal opened. One that I prayed would lead me to sanctuary. To the Temple of Veras.

  I stumbled through and collapsed, my knees hitting smooth, cold stone. My vision blurred as I gasped for air, my body drained of every ounce of energy.

  Above me, the ceiling came into focus as I fell down on my back: pristine white marble etched with elvish symbols and intricate decoration. As I stared, the carvings began to glow with a soothing blue-white light, their radiance soft yet unyielding. A female voice, a warm gentle melody, wrapped around me like a protective embrace.

  “You’ll be safe here,” it sang, a promise that resonated in my very soul. I felt myself being lifted, cradled by unseen hands and submerged in water. It was warm, a balm against the cuts and bruises marring my body. The pain ebbed away, replaced by a profound sense of relief.

  Closing my eyes, I reached out for the bond that tethered me to Faelwen. The silver thread shimmered in my mind’s eye, glowing faintly in the universe, but strong.

  I grasped it, tugging gently, a wordless reassurance that I was still there, still fighting. The thread pulsed back, her presence brushing against mine, faint but steady.

  With that connection holding me, I surrendered to the pull of sleep, letting the warmth of the water and the safety of the temple envelop me. My mind wandered back to the first time we met.

  ? ? ?

  The moon emerged from behind the clouds, casting a silver-blue glow over her dark brown hair, which shimmered like waves of silk in the faint light.

  She stood before the temple, her posture rigid yet poised, a solitary figure against the night. Her tear-streaked face was framed by her defiant gaze, those dark eyes boring into me with suspicion coiled tightly within them.

  Her red lips, pressed firmly together, added to the intensity of her expression, while her lifted chin radiated a quiet, unyielding strength. The sight sent a strange shiver down my spine, not from fear, but from an inexplicable pull toward her.

  In the moonlight, her skin seemed almost ethereal, its natural undertones kissed by shadows of green that carved out the delicate angles of her face. My master’s words echoed in my mind, this was the elven girl who had killed Malignus. Yet looking at her now, I felt an unease that had nothing to do with danger.

  She was small and light, but there was a raw power in the way she held herself, something more haunting than her beauty alone. The darkness in her aura warned me, yet it also pulled me closer. As the wind teased her hair, sending rippling hues through its strands, she tilted her head slightly, a subtle gesture that felt like a challenge.

  I quivered under her silent dare, a yearning blooming in my chest. What was this strange ache? I clenched my fists to steady myself. This was going to be harder than I’d imagined.

  The memory fractured, shifting, and when it reformed, it placed me in the quiet inn not long after. She was close now, her head resting lightly on my shoulder as she slept.

  The fire’s glow dances across her face, softening the sadness that still lingered there, even in slumber. That melancholy carved at me, stirring something tender and protective deep inside.

  She curled into herself, her small frame tucked close, and I resisted the urge to pull her nearer. Her scent, warm and earthy, like a forest after rain, wrapped around me, grounding me in her presence.

  As I brushed a strand of hair away from her face, her peaceful expression broke me. I couldn’t do what my master had demanded. The very thought of it was like poison in my veins.

  To see her lifeless, to extinguish the light that flickered faintly but beautifully in her? No. I couldn’t. She had seized my heart in ways I didn’t fully understand.

  I realized then that I was irrevocably bound to her. It wasn’t just admiration or guilt. It was as if she had tethered herself to my very soul, and I knew with certainty: if that bond were ever severed, I would be undone.