Page 74 of Dreams of Ash and Smoke

A lone raven caws overhead, its dark silhouette a foreboding omen that seems to hang over us all. My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I prepare myself for the inevitable clash.

Then, without warning, a shout rang out from Dryston’s ranks, and the ground beneath our feet quivers as their army surges forward with a thunderous roar. Eryx and I exchange a silent nod, our shared determination fortifying our resolve as we raise our swords, spurring our horses into a gallop to lead our own army into treacherous war.

The clash of swords and shields reverberate through the valley, a cacophony of violence and desperation. My horse trots with purpose, my heart pounding in time with the galloping hooves beneath me.

As we collide with Dryston’s army, the chaos of battle engulfs us in a frenzy of steel and blood. My sword met the enemy’s with a resounding clang, the impact vibrating up my arm as I fought with all the skill and ferocity I possess. Nearby, Eryx was a whirlwind of lethal precision, cutting through the enemy ranks like a force of nature.

Hadeon and Esmeray showing just exactly why they were his army’s generals. I can’t tell who was more lethal.

Hadeon moved like a tyrant, his every motion dripping with the blood of his victims. With the same deadly precision as Eryx, he struck down anyone who dared to oppose him. Esmeray, on the other hand, used her powers to manipulate her enemies’ emotions, instilling such paralyzing fear that they were frozen in place or draining them of their fear until they were overconfident and fell into fatal errors. Together, they were an unstoppable force, wielding terror and death as their weapons of choice.

The battlefield was a swirling vortex of death and destruction, thedeafening sounds of clashing swords and screams of agony filling the air. I fought like a possessed demon, channeling every ounce of strength and cunning I had to survive amidst the blood-soaking chaos. My mind blazed with an all-consuming determination, like a laser cutting through the darkness around me.

But even as we clash with Dryston’s forces, I caught sight of something on the periphery of the battlefield — a group of Zoryan soldiers attempting to flank us from the side. With a surge of adrenaline, I spur my horse toward them, determined to thwart their deadly maneuver.

As I ride toward the flanking force, a sudden explosion rocks the battlefield, sending shockwaves through the earth and momentarily blinding me with smoke and debris. I struggle to maintain control of my mount, my senses reeling from the impact. But as the smoke clears, I saw that the explosion had hit the Zoryan flanking unit, scattering them and shattering their formation.

With a fierce determination, I surge forward, my sword catching the sunlight as it glints and slices through the remaining soldiers. The metallic tang of blood mingles with the acrid stench of sweat, filling the air as I plow through their ranks. My heart races in my chest, pounding like a war drum as adrenaline flowing through my veins. All around me, chaos reigns as swords clash and bodies fall, but for now, our rear was secure. The cries of victory echoes in my ears as I continue, determined to claim our ultimate triumph.

I glance back to see Eryx and our army pressing forward, their relentless advance gradually pushing back the enemy lines. Dryston, his face contorting with rage and desperation, fought at the front of his army with unmatched ferocity, but our forces were too overwhelming. The tide of battle slowly began to shift in our favor, and the once-confident Zoryan soldiers start to show signs of doubt and anxiety.

Esmeray’s influence over the enemy’s emotions grew stronger, causing many to falter and hesitate, while Hadeon continues to rack up a bloody toll amongst their ranks. Our warriors fought with renewed vigor, their spirits buoyed by the sense of victory within their grasp.

The once-formidable Zoryan army began to fall apart, its once-sturdy defenses crumbling like sandcastles in the face of our relentless onslaught.

In the distance, I can see the gates of Dryston’s stronghold, now within striking distance. A faint glimmer of hope sparks within me as I realize that we were so very close to achieving our goal. The end of this war was within our grasp, and I can already taste the sweet flavor of victory.

I make my way toward the stronghold, a sense of angst washes over me. A nagging feeling told me that this was not the end, that there was still more to come. The battle fought so fiercely was not yet over, and I knew that we needed to push harder, faster, if we were to secure our victory.

With renewed determination, we charge forward, our soldiers screaming their battle cries as they breach the gates of Dryston’s stronghold. The air becomes thick with the stench of blood, sweat, and fear as we engage in hand-to-hand combat with the Zoryan soldiers inside.

The battle was fierce, and it seems as though the enemy could never be overcome. I had lost sight of my friends and my husband but I continue. I can’t worry about others when I was trying to stay alive on my own.

From the dark sky above, a shadow descends. Black feathers glimmer with an otherworldly blue sheen as the figure comes into view. It’s a raven, but its form twists and contorts until it transforms into a woman — one that is painfully familiar to me. Her penetrative gaze locks onto mine, sending a shiver down my spine. In a flash of black wings, she lands before me, her presence radiating with inexplicable power.

Her blonde hair shines bright in the sun, her indigo eyes matching mine. Whatever magic she has, gives her clothes when she transforms back into a fae. I can’t take my eyes off of her, no matter the destruction happening around me.

The sun glints off her golden tresses, making them seem like liquid fire. Her inquisitive indigo eyes lock onto mine, mirroring my own intensity. As she transforms back into her fae form, her clothes are imbued with a mystical glow that radiates power. Despite the chaos raging around us, I can’t tear my gaze away from her, drawn in by her familiar ethereal beauty and otherworldly energy.

Without warning, my horse is yanked out from under me, sending us both tumbling to the hard ground. I desperately try to roll away from its massive frame before it crushes my leg like a fragile twig.

As I regain my bearings, I see my mother standing over me, her eyes full of concern. Her hand extends toward me, and I hesitantly grasp it, allowing her to pull me to my feet. Her touch is cold, yet it leaves me feeling unexpectedly warm and safe.

“You should not be here,” she says, her voice as familiar as her appearance. “The battle is too dangerous for one such as you.”

I am about to protest when I see Eryx fighting his way through the enemy ranks, his face grim with determination. His eyes search the chaos for me, and when they finally find mine, they lock onto me with a fierce intensity that fills me with both relief and a strange sense of longing.

“I need to be here,” I tell her, more forcefully than I intended. “My friends and my husband are fighting, and I will not abandon them like you apparently had no problem doing to me. You were dead!” My voice raises before breaking on the last word among the surrounding bodies clashing.

“I am so sorry, Verena. I had to fake my death to protect you. I don’t expect you to understand” She cut off as she takes a blade from the ground and stabs it into someone behind me. “I was going to be killed but I made a better deal with the assassin sent to kill me.”

My eyes widen in shock and anger. “I was alone! I had no one for a decade. Do you even know what I endured for the sake of the crown?” The thoughts that cross my mind race through me like wildfire. can I trust my mother? The woman who had walked out on me when I was just a child, leaving me to fend for myself in this unforgiving and dangerous world

But now, here she was, in the thick of a battle she had never asked for, her heart heavy with the burden of the choices that had led her to this point. As I stare at my mother, I see a flicker of something in her eyes — regret, perhaps, or perhaps the ghost of a different life.

“I had hoped,” my mother says softly, “that you would have been taken care of. I do not know what happened when I left but you and Drystongot along so well. I thought my fears of him turning into his mother were dramatic paranoia.” She fought more beings away from us. “Can we talk this out after we survive this?” She asks and it breaks me from my thoughts— my shock.

A chill runs down my spine as I come face to face with the truth. The raven, that ominous creature that has haunted me since her death, was actually her all along. My heart races as I realize she never truly left me. Every time I saw a black bird, it was her watching over me. How could I have been so blind? My grief turns into a mixture of fear and wonder at this realization. She’s alive, in some form, and she’s been with me all this time.

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