The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 3 From the Ashes

by Melissa Myers

  “Are we in Veyetta’s domain then?” Valor asked softly.

  “Not yet but by afternoon we will be,” Fiona replied, her eyes scanning the area behind them.

  “Then bugger off, Fiona, she is having a rough day. When we must be silent we will be. Do remember however that while you have existed for centuries in silence, we have not, and the living still find comfort in the spoken word,” Valor said in a louder voice, though not loud enough to carry far.

  “It’s OK, Valor. I can go back to silence now. I’m starting to feel a bit more rational,” Jala assured him, her voice barely a whisper.

  “I want to know how she expects me to know when the bloody hell afternoon is when there is no god-forsaken sun in this place,” Valor snapped and shook his head in disgust. “And as I told her, I will be silent when I have to. You may be feeling more rational, but I still find comfort in talking.”

  “I don’t think she wanted us to know exactly when it was, actually. I think she just wanted us to shut the hell up now,” Jala said with a shrug. Her stomach seemed to be calming with Valor bracing her in the saddle. “Do you ever want to just kick me off the horse so you can actually sit in your own saddle rather than behind it? That has to be uncomfortable in armor.”

  “The blanket is folded back here. I think it might be more comfortable behind the saddle than it is in the saddle.” Valor replied with a shrug. “And no, I have never had the desire to kick you off the horse. I did have the desire to shove you off the air pad you were sleeping on last night, but that was spawned from the memory of your shoving me off a bed at Anthe’s. I decided, however, I will wait until you are not pregnant and then strike.”

  “You wouldn’t wake up at Anthe’s. What was I supposed to do?” Jala replied, glancing back at him once more.

  “Something other than push me off the bed perhaps? I pity your child when he oversleeps. The poor boy is going to have the most horrendous fear of falling by the time he is grown,” Valor said with a note of sympathy in his voice.

  “Fiona has stopped walking. Do you see anything?” Jala said her voice dropping to a hushed whisper.

  Valor pulled the horse slowly to a stop and scanned the area ahead of them. After a long moment he shook his head slowly. “I don’t, but Valorous smells something,” he whispered, sounding puzzled.

  “What?” Jala asked, glancing back at him.

  “Uhh. I’m not sure that he is right. Give me a moment.” Valor mumbled and moved his hand from her stomach to rest on the side of the horse’s neck.

  “Blackberries, perhaps?” The shadows to the right of their horse parted revealing a man crouched atop a rock. Valor let out a curse behind her and dropped quickly from the horse, already reaching for his sword.

  “Wait, Valor. I know him,” Jala blurted, reaching down quickly to grab Valor by the shoulder before he could draw his steel. “Vaze, what the hell are you doing here?” she snapped. It had been so long since she had him, but there was no forgetting someone like Vaze. With the eerie black armor and the veritable armory of swords Vaze had a way of stamping himself into memories.

  Vaze stood slowly on the rock and dropped down to the ground in front of Valor. The knight was slightly taller, which seemed to amuse Vaze who smiled up at him and winked. “Visiting. How are you finding the Darklands?” he replied in a perfectly conversational tone.

  “What are you doing back here?” Fiona demanded as she stalked toward the three of them. Her gaze was locked on Vaze with an expression that made her earlier fury seem like mere irritation.

  Vaze glanced toward Fiona and then back up to Jala. “You found the bitchiest guide in the Darklands. Well done. Here, Shade said these were your favorites.” He tossed a small sack up to her and turned to face Fiona. “Hello, Fiona. How have you been?” he asked sweetly.

  Jala caught the bag and looked down at Valor who was staring up at her in disbelief. “He is one of the Fionaveir,” she explained with a shrug. “I didn’t expect to see him, though. I haven’t seen him since I was twelve.”

  “Vaze, what are you doing here? I really doubt you are simply visiting.” Jala pressed.

  “You are going to need Valor in the city. So I’ve come to deal with Davrian for you. I suppose Trystan, too, if we have the misfortune of running into him. He is a bit of an ass, though. Best to avoid that one,” Vaze explained as if he were offering to help with minor chores.

  “Ahh. Just that easy, eh? Well, then, why don’t you clear the bloody city for her as well?” Fiona snapped and rolled her eyes at Vaze.

  “I have to leave something for the Forgotten to do. It wouldn’t be right to take all of the fun,” Vaze replied lightly.

  “You are such an egomaniac,” Fiona snapped again. “Worse than before, and I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “Wait, you’ve been here before?” Jala asked, dumbfounded.

  “And you were actually willing to come back?” Valor added sounding just as incredulous as she was.

  “It’s been eight years and this place isn’t nearly as tedious for me as it has been for you two. That’s good though. Had your progress been faster I wouldn’t have been able to get here in time. As it stands, it was a near thing. You are about two days from Davrian now,” Vaze explained.

  “Are you saying Valor couldn’t handle it?” Fiona asked with a smirk.

  “I’m not really sure that I could have handled it cleanly. Davrian is a legendary warrior that is centuries old. I’m a twenty-five year old tourney knight,” Valor cut in before Vaze could reply.

  “You could have,” Jala said quietly. She had seen Valor’s determination and courage, and there was no doubt in her mind that if she needed Valor to accomplish something he would.

  Fiona looked up at her sharply and opened her mouth to reply, but Vaze’s hand clamped down over her mouth before a single word could be formed. “Eat your tarts before they get cold, Jala. There are two in that bag in case you are in a sharing mood,” Vaze ordered and then looked to Valor. “I’ve brought supplies. How long since you’ve had a decent meal?”

  “Decent? Well, we left Merro around forty-three days ago so I’d say about forty-four days,” Valor answered and leaned back against the side of his horse.

  Vaze nodded quickly, his hand still clamped over Fiona’s mouth. The woman was glaring at him coldly enough to freeze the blood in just about anyone else. Vaze, however, ignored her completely and motioned with his free hand toward the rock he had been perched on. “Set up a small camp over there and we will eat. There are a few things we need to talk about before we go on,” Vaze offered and then glanced to Valor once more. “You have water as an element, don’t you, Valor?”

  “Yes,” Valor replied, sounding a bit confused with the abrupt topic change, but Vaze simply nodded and motioned them both off toward the rock before pulling Fiona aside for an apparently private discussion.

  Shrugging, Valor took the reins and led Valorous to the rocks and helped Jala dismount. “How well do you know him?” he asked quietly as he glanced toward Vaze once more.

  “Are you asking me if we can trust him?” Jala asked as she pulled one of the tarts from the bag. Just the smell of the food was making her mouth water. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten anything other than dried beef. She started to offer the other to Valor but he had turned away, back toward the horse.

  “Essentially. Can we?” Valor asked as he untied the blanket from the saddle and dropped it to the ground for her to sit on.

  “I don’t know. Like I said, I haven’t seen him since I was twelve, but the memory I have of him is a good one. Do you remember when…” Jala paused as her mind registered what she had been about to say. Swallowing her bite of tart she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and cleared her throat. “Do you remember just before we found Finn in the Justicar’s hall, outside, when I grabbed my head?” Jala asked, the image of Finn lying in a pool of blood branded freshly onto her mind.

  “I remember, “Valor said quietl
y and from his expression he was focusing on the same fragment of that moment as she was.

  “That was from a mind block coming down. Lutheron, another of the Fionaveir had placed it there to make me behave. Vaze objected to it and encouraged me to keep standing up for myself. That was the last time I saw him,” Jala explained.

  “Ahh. But that’s because I’m not seen when I don’t wish to be. It wasn’t the last time I saw you though, Curly. I did check on you,” Vaze said as he walked over and leaned against one of the rocks. “Forgive my delay. That was a bit of Fionaveir business that I thought she should be apprised of, given that we are her namesake. She is checking on something for me now and should return soon. In the meantime, let’s see about getting you some food cooked.” He moved away from the rock once more and shrugged a bag from his shoulder and dropped it to the ground lightly. Crouching down beside it he began to pull various items from it and sort them on the ground beside him.

  “I mean no offense, but I find your arrival rather suspicious, so forgive me if I’m slow to trust and hesitant to eat the food you offer,” Valor said quietly, his eyes locked on Vaze’s every movement.

  Jala froze and looked down at the half eaten tart and then to Valor with a look of mild pleading. “Please don’t suggest it’s poisoned. It tastes too good to be poisoned,” she whispered as she examined the tart critically.

  “It’s not poisoned.” Vaze assured her.

  “Which is exactly what someone poisoning you would say,” Valor returned dryly.

  “She is halfway through the tart. If I had actually poisoned her and she asked that, I wouldn’t deny it was poisoned. I would say ha-ha I win,” Vaze objected.

  “He has a point,” Jala agreed as she took another bite of the tart. The filling was still warm enough to steam in the chill air.

  “You are correct to be suspicious, though, Valor. I commend you on that. You swore on your friend’s lifeblood to keep her safe and a death oath is the most sacred word a man can give. So what can I do to put your mind at ease?” Vaze stood slowly and folded his arms behind him looking at Valor with a calm expression.

  “Tell me why you are here to help her, for one,” Valor said, his tone still rigidly formal. His eyes had narrowed at the mention of the oath, and Jala couldn’t really blame him. She had been the only witness to those words, and she had told no one of them.

  Vaze leaned closer toward Valor and summoned a small globe of light in his hand. Holding it just under his chin he pointed to his eye with his free hand and blinked a couple of times. “Do you see that?” he asked. “Purple or violet eyes. It’s a mark of his blood. Magdalyn had violet eyes just as her daughter does, though Magdalyn chose to hide them.” Standing straight once more Vaze flexed his free hand and the shiny black armor began to ripple and then parted like oil on water revealing the muscular pale flesh beneath. “So is this.” Vaze said quietly as he drew a small line across his forearm and watched pale gold blood well in the wound.

  “We are kin?” Jala breathed, staring at Vaze in shock.

  “Your Uncle, to be precise. Magdalyn was my half-sister. War tends to breed during every conflict. Most of the children die in their mother’s wombs but a scant few have lived. Magdalyn was a product of the Goswin fall; I am a product of the Veyetta war,” Vaze explained. “Three Divine were locked in the Barrier. Of the three of them, only one has chosen to bring progeny into existence. You and I are proof of his determination to spread his blood.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Jala whispered, trying to force down the growing pain in her chest.

  “How cruel would that be to a child? To tell you who I truly am, and then leave you behind, regardless. Had I told you then, you would have believed yourself unworthy and that simply wasn’t the case,” Vaze said with a shake of his head and crouched once more in front of his pile of assorted goods. “Sit, Jala. I’ll explain a few things as I cook. Listen closely because I will not repeat what I say and these words stay between us.”

  Jala sank slowly to the blanket and stared at Vaze, her mind reeling. How different would her childhood have been had she known there was someone that actually cared about her. Father Belson had cared, of course, but as a priest cares for an orphan. It hadn’t been true love and she had known it. Then of course, there was no guarantee that Vaze actually cared more than what was required, either.

  “I said listen, Jala. I can see your mind working. You are forming your own conclusions before I have time to explain. You might as well sit too, Valor, rather than lurking above me with that glare of disapproval on your face,” Vaze said as he motioned toward the blanket Jala sat on.

  “Make it good or I may help Davrian in the fight against you,” Valor growled and sat slowly down beside Jala, his glare fixed on Vaze.

  “Where to begin?” Vaze sighed and began making a small fire in front of him. “I was born in Veyetta when it still stood. I was three days old when Lutheron took me from the castle. The following morning the Stormlord descended on the city and killed everyone that showed loyalty to my line. Lutheron raised me in Fionahold. For years he was like a father to me. A strict one to be sure, but one that I respected.” He paused again and carefully unwrapped a haunch of meat and spitted it. “I began my training at age six. Wooden swords and then magic, and so it progressed. When I was twelve I began to have strange dreams.” He glanced up at Jala meaningfully and she nodded slowly. “At first they were vague and unsettling and I took them as nightmares and didn’t speak of them to anyone. No self-respecting twelve-year-old boy wants to admit to being afraid to sleep. As it turns out I didn’t need to say anything. After a week or so of sleeplessness, my lessons began to falter and Lutheron scolded me, saying nightmares were no excuse for clumsiness.” Pausing once more, he seasoned the meat and glanced up at Jala again. “I hadn’t breathed a word to anyone and magic is not allowed inside the Fionahold. I had to travel into Faydwer for my lessons on magic and yet Lutheron knew of my dreams. I let it go, simply believing he had broken rules. He is second in command, after all, so I figured it was allowed. As I grew, however, I noticed other instances with Lutheron and his odd magics and eventually I determined what he was.”

  “What is he?” Jala broke in. She had thought he was simply an Immortal like the rest of them.

  “The Divine of Fear,” Vaze answered with a faint smile. “He can read your fears all the way down to the darkest secrets you have. He can locate you through your fears as long as you walk in the sunlit world. He can cause fear and remove fear with the flick of a finger. There are perhaps three individuals that I know of that are completely fearless, everyone else is under Lutheron’s thumb.” Vaze looked to Valor then Jala and gave a bitter smile.

  “I fail to see what this has to do with Jala. This sounds more like your life history,” Valor pointed out in a tone that showed he was not impressed.

  “The youth have no patience,” Vaze sighed and rotated the meat once before leaning back away from the fire. “Once I had determined what Lutheron was, I acted with more caution but kept my knowledge to myself. As I grew older, I began exploring my fallen homeland for secrets of the Veyetta magic. Over the course of several years I mastered the shadows, which led me to all kinds of interesting secrets such as the other children of my blood. I had thought I was alone, with no one else in the world outside of the Fionaveir. More importantly, it led me to my father, War.” Vaze looked to Jala once again with a knowing look on his face.

  Nodding slowly, Jala fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “I’ve spoken with him once,” she admitted quietly.

  “What did he ask of you?” Vaze prodded quietly.

  “For War,” Jala replied.

  Vaze nodded with a smile. “That’s what all of the Divines as well as the Aspects are like, Jala. That’s why I left you at the temple rather than bringing you home with me. It took me a while to convince Lutheron to leave you be, but eventually I did. The nightmares I had as a child, they weren’t random. They were induced. We are divine
blooded, Jala. Our prayers are worth more than a thousand mortals. Each time you awaken from sleep in a cold sweat you are praying to him. Every time you pick a fight you are praying to War. Every time you kill, you whisper praise to Death and so on. I convinced him to let you be feared by thousands rather than know fear yourself. I convinced him you would rise as a Merrodin and all who thought your line dead would know fear. I put you in the wretched place you are right now because I was trying to help you. You see, I no longer knew fear at that point. I had the shadows and my own formidable skills by that time. I was no longer useful in that aspect to him, but you were.” Vaze trailed off and then looked to Valor and locked eyes with him. “So you see, Valor, I’m here to help because I have a very guilty conscience. I thought I was spinning a tale for Lutheron. I thought at best she would attend the Academy and marry well. I thought the only way she could find out who she truly was, required asking the Fionaveir. I never even considered Anthe. As Fiona said, I am an egomaniac and I thought I had the perfect plan. I never truly believed Merrodin would rise again.” Vaze sighed and rubbed his face then looked to Jala and nodded respectfully. “This is one of the few times I will say this and likely the only time you will ever hear it yourself from me. I was wrong and I am sorry.”

  “I suppose, given the fact that you are here to help that I should forgive you,” Jala sighed, trying not to think of how she had pleaded with Victory and Havoc to take her with them. If not for Vaze’s plan they most likely would have.

  “Jala, what did you fear most of all,” Vaze prodded gently.

  “Losing Finn,” Valor cut in, his voice thick with anger.

  Jala’s gaze snapped up to Vaze and her mouth fell open slightly. “Why? Are you saying I was feeding too much to Lutheron so someone eliminated my fear?” she asked.

  “Jala what do you fear most now?” Vaze asked, ignoring her question.