Page 76 of Dreams of Ash and Smoke

A hand grips my shoulder and I spin around, ready for a fight. But it’s my mother, her eyes burning with determination. “Allow me, my dear,” she whispers, stepping in front of her king. With a flick of her wrist, she placesher hand on his chest.

My heart races as I try to pull her away, but she holds steadfast. “What are you doing?” I demand, panic creeping into my voice.

“I am saving his life,” she declares, her voice full of power and purpose. “By giving him the gift that gives me my shape-shifting abilities.” My jaw drops as I realize what she is sacrificing for him – and for us all. “I won’t die but I will no longer be able to change into the raven, or any form and it will heal him.”

A sudden burst of magic swirls around his wound, knitting together flesh and skin with a blinding blue light. I am mesmerized by the sight as he gasps, sitting up with newfound strength. Without hesitation, I throw myself into his arms, overcome with relief and love for this powerful being before me.

My own heart feels a different type of shattering – the weight of the knowledge that my mother has given up her powers in order to save him. Her decision is one that is both unimaginable and selfless, but I can’t deny the bittersweet emotion that pours through me.

As the dust settles on the battlefield, I find myself holding onto Eryx with one arm while the other rests on my mother’s shoulder. The world around us stills, as if every ounce of magic has been drained from existence, leaving only the heavy silence that follows unimaginable betrayal and sacrifice.

Everyone is unsure of where to go from here. I can’t believe it’s over.

In the wake of the battle, we find ourselves standing in the aftermath of a war that has left us both physically and emotionally shattered. The air around us is thick with the scent of blood and magic, a bitter reminder of the violence that has just unfolded.

The horse’s hooves pound against the ground, carrying the wounded Eryx on its back. His eyes are clenched shut in agony as he struggles to stay upright, his body still sore from the brink of death. The horse’s steady gallop threatens to jostle him off at any moment, but Eryx holds on with all his remaining strength, determined to survive and reach our home.

The wound on his chest, once a deep and gaping gash, is now just a faint scar, a testament to the power of my mother’s sacrifice. I trace my fingers over the delicate line as I stand next to him, feeling a sense of gratitude andsadness wash over me.

Hadeon helps an injured Esmeray onto her own horse before starting toward us. “We’ll need to leave this place soon,” he says softly, his voice cheery and bubbly in this time of sorrow. I nod in agreeance, about to mount the horse with Eryx since mine disappeared.

A sharp gasp pierces through the air, jerking my head toward its source. My heart races as I brace myself for what I might see. To my horror, Hadeon stands before me, his hands clutching at his chest with a look of confusion and pain etched on his face. The sight is seared into my mind, a haunting image that will never leave me.

My eyebrows knit together in confusion as I open my mouth to speak, but before I can utter a single word, blood erupts from his mouth in a violent gush. His body slumps off the dagger that impaled his heart, and I realize with horror he’s been stabbed.

Dryston, barely clinging to life, stands behind him with a wicked smirk on his face. Esmeray’s scream echoes through the air before I can even process what has happened, her sword drawn and slicing through the air at lightning speed. She decapitates Dryston in one swift motion, his head rolling across the ground as she lets out a primal roar of vengeance.

I sprint to my friend’s side, my hands desperately trying to cover the gaping wound in his chest. But it’s futile, blood gushes out between my fingers like a relentless waterfall. I stare into his lifeless eyes, the shock and surprise still etched on his pale face. “No… no no no!” I scream at him, as if begging for him to come back to me. My voice breaks into a hoarse whisper, tears streaming down my cheeks like a torrential downpour. Eryx stands frozen beside me, his eyes wide with disbelief and tears threatening to spill over. Even Esmeray, who always seemed emotionless, is weeping next to me. “It’s okay guys, he’s going to be okay,” I lie through gritted teeth, trying to convince myself more than anyone else. “Hadeon! Come one, you are not dying! What about your dream? Mom, you have to do something, use your powers to fix him like you did before!” My words are desperate and pleading as I turn to my mother, but even she looks defeated and hopeless. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut — there is no coming backfrom this. And it shatters my heart into a million tiny pieces.

Her eyes hold a haunting sorrow as she shakes her head. “I can’t, sweet girl. It was all I had to save Eryx. I have nothing left.”

“No!” I scream, my voice cracking with desperation before coming to a devastating realization. “It’s fine. I’ll sacrifice myself instead. How do I do it?” My hands tremble as I try to summon any trace of magic, but there is nothing left within me. “What’s wrong with me? Why won’t it work?” I roar in frustration, clutching onto his lifeless body with fierce determination. A guttural growl escapes my lips as I attempt again, only to be met with the same result. “No! Mom, show me how!”

But it isn’t my mother who grips my shoulders, it’s Eryx.

His once bright eyes now sad and apologetic as they bore into my soul. “He’s gone, Little Star.” Tears stream down my face at his words, my heart shattering into a million pieces with raw grief and agony.

“No, he can’t be!” I scream, struggling against the hands that try to hold me back. I reach desperately for my best friend, my only friend, as tears blur my vision. “Let me go! I can save him! Tell me how to save him!”

But no one moves, no one helps. Instead, Eryx turns to a solemn looking Khyrelian soldier and gives a grave order. “Make sure his body is brought back with us. He deserves a proper burial.”

The reality crashes down on me like an avalanche, and I am consumed by agonizing sobs.

Hadeon cannot be dead. It’s impossible, the Gods wouldn’t be so cruel.

Yet the truth is staring me in the face and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Epilogue: Dreams of Ash and Smoke

Verena

1 year post-war

Ijolt awake, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The nightmare has become a routine, haunting every night since the war ended. It always starts with Eryx’s lifeless body, before shifting to Hadeon’s confused eyes as he chokes on his own blood and then Dryston with his hard unrelenting gaze, practically blaming me for the entire war.

Leaving Zorya was the hardest decision I ever made. Every day, I am haunted by the thought that if I had stayed, Hadeon and all the other lives lost in the war would still be alive. But at the same time, I know that staying meant being a part of that endless cycle of violence and loss. It’s a constant battle between guilt and regret, with no clear answer in sight. Not to mention, I’d have never found Eryx again and that thought sends jolts of pain through my heart like no other.

A relentless grief consumes me, a blazing inferno that never dies down. It lies dormant beneath the surface, waiting for any moment of distraction or solace to creep up and steal away any sense of peace I might find. Eryx’s attempts at comfort only serve to intensify my guilt for not being able to save Hadeon. I am torn between desperately wanting to move on and clinging tightly to the memories that continue to haunt me, like ghosts refusing toleave my side. This sorrow weighs heavily on my heart, a constant ache that I cannot escape no matter how hard I try.

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