Ancient Ruins (Ancient Dreams Book 1)

by Benjamin Medrano

  Ancient Ruins

  By Benjamin Medrano

  Ancient Ruins by Benjamin Medrano

  © 2017 Benjamin Medrano. All rights reserved.

  Contact the author at BenjaminPMedrano@gmail.com

  Visit the author’s website at benjaminmedranoblog.wordpress.com

  Cover Art by Jackie Felix Wei

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental or with direct permission.

  This is for you, Jessica. Thank you for your endless support.

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  Avendrial let out a gasp as something pierced deep into her chest, Lord Gauros snarling out the words of a spell. With a savage gesture as if he were ripping something away, Avendrial felt her soul shift and shudder in its foundation, sending ripples of unimaginable agony through her. Falling to her knees, she finally gasped out a plaintive inquiry. “W-why?”

  “I chose to trust you to do your tasks properly, and you failed me.” He growled, slowly clenching his fist in front of him, and the agony continued to grow as he continued. “Now, you harlot of the hells, I will make you pay for your failures!”

  Pain obscured her mind, preventing any protests she might have spoken, her soul slowly being ripped free of her body. Her skin cracked like dried mud, black flames seeping through the cracks. As Gauros finally clenched his fist tightly, her soul was torn from her body, the flesh and bone collapsing into a pile of ashes behind her.

  The shock of her abrupt departure of her body stunned Avendrial for a long moment. All around her was the spirit world overlaying the real world, with vibrant energies surrounding the deep violet-red of her own spirit. Darkness surrounded Gauros, revealing his own irredeemable damnation to her sight. In an instant black chains formed around her, latching onto her and dragging her downward, toward the hells themselves to slowly reform once more.

  But before she could be moved far, Gauros hissed out another spell, and a rippling web of crimson shattered the chains, wrapping around her like a white-hot net that seared her spirit. He slowly drew the web toward him, his dark eyes glittering with malice.

  “You think I’m going to allow you to reform in whatever hell you came from, to come back for revenge? I think not, harlot. Nor will I grant you the mercy of a simple death.” He growled, a thin smile growing on his face as she was drawn closer. As she came closer, his hands seemed to grow larger as well. It took her a moment to realize that it wasn’t his hands that were growing, but she was shrinking instead, the searing web slowly compacting her until she would fit into his hands, smaller than the smallest joint on his finger. She tried to plead for mercy, but as a spirit she had no voice and no way to escape.

  One of Gauros’ titanic hands vanished, and a moment later reappeared with a perfect ruby cradled in its palm. Avendrial had never seen such a beautiful jewel before, its facets perfectly cut to accentuate its beauty, and seeming almost ten times her own present size. With another gesture he sent the web dragging her toward the jewel. Terror slowly grew more and more as she risked the pain, trying to escape as he explained almost gleefully. “You will be trapped in a soulgem enchanted to hide your presence, your very existence. It will be powered at first by your own strength, and then will begin to dissolve your memories and very soul to sustain itself. Over ten thousand years or more, it will drain you to nothing. Your memories and name will be forgotten, until you are naught but the barest spark of awareness, a bare flicker that will be snuffed out by the enchantment that will keep you from being rescued by anyone, or from realizing you exist at all!”

  As he spoke the web dragged her painfully into the jewel, and into the very center of it. She passed dozens of sigils and mandalas, layers of spells built into the jewel in horrific perfection. Trapped at the very center of the jewel, they pulsed to life as her energy brushed against the innermost circle, and her power began to fuel the spells he’d forged into the ruby. He smiled down at the jewel, and she could hear him as he murmured. “An elegant way of avoiding explaining what happened to you, I think.”

  Avendrial pressed herself against the walls of her prison, looking out and up at Gauros in confusion and rage, trying to free herself as he slowly tossed the ruby into the air several times. The entire world seemed dyed red now, and she finally murmured to herself. “But what did I do?”

  * * *

  When inside a ruby time flowed strangely. Or at least Avendrial’s perception of time did. At times it seemed that days, months, and even years passed by like lightning, while at other times a single hour could crawl like an eternity had passed. Most of the first few decades was spent inside Gauros’ vault, sitting in a dusty pile of jewels. A part of her idly wondered if there were any others like her among the other gems, but there was no way for her to know from inside her ruby prison.

  As time passed the enchantments hummed silently around her, leeching away her innate powers like an almost imperceptible thief. Fragments of power slowly gained over the course of countless centuries vanished as if they had never been, leaving an aching void in their wake. And with them, as Gauros had threatened, vanished parts of her memories.

  The most important thing to her was her Name, and it was what she lost first. A demon’s most valuable, dangerous possession, their true name described everything that they were, all of their ambitions, hopes, dreams, and the very essence of whom they were. As such the loss was one which all but crippled her. Mental strength and resolve faded with the loss of clarity of who and what she was. She could still remember, but her ability to resist the siren song of the enchantment faded swiftly. And her senses, her interest in the outside world waned with her lack of focus as well.

  As language was slowly forgotten, the demon could do little but reminisce over the few things she could remember, letting time simply pass her by. And pass by it did, until one day as she watched, an explosion of shadow-hued flames blew Gauros through the wall of the vault. The human was old now, gaunt and his dark hair now mostly white, yet she could still see some of his power surrounding him. But that power availed him little at this time.

  She watched, vaguely intrigued as he was torn apart by a pack of spectral houn
ds the size of horses. She didn’t quite remember what he’d done to make her so happy at his death, but she watched in satisfaction through crimson-hued light as he died horribly before another man stepped into the vault, this one a skeletal form in black robes and carrying a black stone staff. The man searched the room, taking everything of value, including the jewel in which she resided, and for some time all was darkness inside of the pouch where her prison was placed.

  When she next saw light, it was as a gleaming blade of light cut through the pouch, sending her prison spilling onto the ground as the skeletal man was incinerated by white flames, collapsing under the assault of pair of gleaming knights who were accompanied by a half-dozen others. While no one else noticed, she certainly noticed when most of the gems, including her own, was palmed by a young man in leather armor and a friendly face.

  From the young man she was passed into the hands of a merchant in exchange for coin. From the merchant she went to an angularly handsome man who admired her, and whose throat was slit by another vying for his position in the assassin’s guild. She was given away as a bribe by the man’s successor, and her awareness of the individuals who held her prison slowly began to fade into nothing. As her memories slowly drained away, she passed from hand to hand, from merchant to buyer, until she finally was set into a golden pendant and hung on a shelf to wait. And there she was content to wait, her mind gloriously blank as she simply let time take its course, her jewel the entirety of her world now.

  However, that placid introversion was shattered after she’d gathered only two layers of dust. Of course, the jeweler had quickly cleaned away the dust, but it was the only sense of time she truly had. She looked out of the gem to meet the sparkling blue eyes of a young elven woman, looking at her in fascination. The elegant features of the elf were beautiful, and her long black hair was combed behind her long, mobile ears. And the sparkling blue of the elf’s eyes were the first other color to break through the crimson of her world in a long time, and she roused a bit, staring at the elf, with just a hint of longing...though what she was longing for, she wasn’t entirely certain. Not anymore. But a hint of...something different struck her about the elven maiden. As if a silent chord had been struck between them, like destiny unfolding. And so she ceased her introspection and watched as the young woman fiercely bargained over her price.

  The young elf lived some distance away, across a plain and in an ancient, primeval forest. The necklace was worn frequently by the young elf, and in spite of herself, the name of the young woman slowly stuck in her mind. The elf was Sistina Constella. She was a noble of some form, and they lived in a beautiful elven city, carved of white stone and lit at night by globes of glowing crystal that shone like the full moon. And within the vast city, her favorite places were the gardens. Each garden was a riot of colors and rare plants that broke through the crimson haze over her vision.

  New memories slowly formed once more, memories that were strangely resistant to the attempts by the enchantment to dissolve them. Nights at balls where hundreds of guests swirled about the dance floor, Sistina laughing as she nearly tripped a young prince, and him laughing in turn. The night when Sistina had her first kiss, and the jealousy that she couldn’t be out there with the elven woman herself. The journey into the deepest parts of the forest, where Sistina had consulted with an age-old nymph, the unnatural beauty of the nymph aweing both of them before Sistina was gifted with a few words of advice, a golden willow seed, and a kiss.

  Sistina eventually took the position of the head of her family, and the necklace was worn frequently by Sistina over the years. Children were born, lovers were had, and the only companion she truly had was Sistina herself, who would sometimes talk to her necklace almost as if to an old friend, and she was kept in small box of other keepsakes from when Sistina was younger, including the willow seed. But in spite of that, Sistina slowly aged, growing older and wiser as time passed. And when Sistina stepped down from her position in her dotage, she began to grow anxious, pressing against the walls of her prison desperately. She could only remember Sistina at this point, with the rest of her past as scattered fragments. It was almost as if she had always been in the ruby.

  She cried when Sistina died peacefully in her sleep, weeping within the jewel for her only friend she could remember. And a sense of utter gratitude pervaded her when the keepsake box was placed in Sistina’s hands by her friend’s children before the elf was placed in the coffin and interred.

  In the silence and darkness of the tomb, she had nothing to watch for the first time in ages. She sat in the keepsake box in utter silence, and slowly, gently drifted off into a dazed sort of sleep in which she could reminisce once more. Only once was she disturbed, when the tomb vibrated and shifted, and her ruby prison bounced slightly inside of the box. But then it went silent once more, and the earth calmed. Time slowly passed, and her soul slowly dimmed as well. Her time was reaching its end, but she was happy she could rest with Sistina, as only those memories stubbornly persisted, fighting the enchantment attempting to destroy her.

  But one day the lid of the box was cracked open, and the unshaven, dirt-caked face of a human leered down at her in happiness, then wrenched the box from Sistina’s long-dead grasp. As he ran, a flash of white-hot flame suddenly surrounded her and she went spinning through the air. She found herself and the scorched willow seed bouncing across the pale stones of a massive cavern filled with ruins and the rotted remains of plants. Behind her the grave robber was incinerated by a trap, but she was filled with horror at the sight before her. The lovely gardens she’d walked through with Sistina were one of her few remaining memories, and they were gone. Gone along with Sistina herself, and grief wracked her for an eternal moment as she spun through the air. But her ruby, warm from the trap, hit a stone that redirected her path.

  The impact cracked the perfect facets of her ruby, and a hint of her remaining power began to seep from the crack. Not much of her was left and she would expire soon, though she didn’t really understand what was happening. But her jewel happened to come to rest against the scorched willow seed at last, her constant companion for untold years. The seed was dry and lifeless from the past centuries, but slowly her energy infused it and drew it back from seeming death. As it slowly recovered, light came and went, shining through gigantic crystals high above them at the peak of the cavern. Her own consciousness was beginning to fade, almost everything gone. Words, memories...all of it was outside of her reach, as she faded toward her eternal slumber.

  Until one day the scorched seed began to sprout. The tiny root followed the stream of her energy, reaching out and latching onto her ruby. Slowly, bit by bit, it reached into the crack, growing and spreading the fracture. Formation after formation of the spells around her cracked and shattered under its assault, and she only vaguely felt it as each segment of her prison was broken. Until at last, the root pierced through the final barrier, freeing her from the gemstone as a guttering spark of consciousness. All around her, black chains began to form, and she felt the faintest hint of fear as she realized they were coming for her. But at that moment the tiny root reached out and touched the spark of her existence...and all at once she and the unborn tree became one, her as the soul, and it as the body.

  Their last thought was the same, as she was absorbed into the seed, and their roots began to spread.

  Sistina.

  Chapter 1

  Growth came slowly in the intermittent light of the cavern, and the dry soil was not much better. It was a wonder she could grow at all. What moisture there was felt slightly wrong as well. But she had no real choice. She could only sink her roots deeper into the ground, and strain to grow her branches to gather more light.

  But as time passed she found that she could feel...something nearby. She could feel a faint warmth nearby, but it was just out of reach in the earth below her. So she focused everything she could on reaching it with her roots. It took a great deal of time, but eventually her roots touched the source of
the warmth. It was like touching a sphere of deep golden light, its warmth slowly infusing and supporting her. Her roots slowly spread into the light, and she began to drink in the warmth, the golden light entwining itself with her own emerald light, infusing her. And as it infused her, she realized that it was allowing her to grow faster and healthier, without many of the difficulties she’d encountered before. She felt a core of warmth growing within her, and it was both comforting and familiar. She reveled in the sensation, but mostly she began to grow in earnest.

  Her branches grew longer, and the longer branches finally began to dangle properly. As her core of warmth grew, she watched in fascination as tiny glimmers of light began to dance along the lengths of her branches, glittering softly in the dim cavern. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure if a tree of her type should have smooth white bark. Either way, she thought it was beautiful with the lights glittering on her branches.

  As she grew, her perceptions slowly expanded and she was able to see more of her surroundings. She planted near a fouled pond, fed by a spring down below it, and she felt slightly embarrassed for not realizing she was perhaps twenty feet from a water source. The water was quite disgusting to absorb, but it was all she had for sustenance. All around her she could feel and see what seemed like the stones of a...mausoleum? No, it was a full graveyard, she realized slowly, her mind putting the pieces together. Behind her, opposite the pond, was a large tomb, the walls cracked and crumbling, and the door hanging open, blackened as if by a fiery explosion. Other crumbling edifices around her seemed to have been severely weathered by time and some other form of violence that shattered many of them, and crumbling towers and buildings could be seen in the distance. Her vision beyond her immediate presence was cloudy and vague, but she could sense some impressions of it, with the most clarity on those areas closest to her.

  Examining the soil into which she’d sunk her roots, she found it rocky and depleted for the most part, as well as fairly dry. With the way it was, she might never grow to her full height, even with the support of the energy deeper beneath her. Wistfully imagining the rich, dark soil that would be perfect for her to grow in, she suddenly felt the core of warmth within her react. Letting it continue, the threads of golden energy flowed through her and into the ground around her, slowly began to change. The warm glow slowly began to dim within her, but as it did, the soil began to transform into the type that she’d imagined. Rich and dark, it was the type of soil that she would want to bury her roots in, and she let out an inner sigh of satisfaction as the last of it in her immediate area changed. The process was exhausting, though, and for a time she fell almost dormant, as if she was sleeping while the warmth restored itself.