Page 211 of Wings of Ash & Flame
“Umbra ruled the night, but darkness isn’t evil. Everything begins in darkness. It is because of the dark that light shinesthrough. But jealousy is a cruel and vicious monster, turning even the best of us into something unrecognizable.”
Her body burned hot. Somewhere in the haze, she thought she heard, “We are onlybeginning our fun,” followed by the snap of teeth—before she was dragged back under.
“During the year of a hundred storms, Aurelia suffered a great calamity. Cut off from the rest of Elithian, its people starved and grew sick. Out of desperation, Queen Lila Vallorian traveled alone to the sacred Ashen Grove, where she had first bonded with her phoenix.
“For three days and nights, she knelt in prayer, begging Lysia to save her dying kingdom. On the third dawn, Lysia herself appeared. Moved by Lila’s selfless devotion and pure heart, the goddess touched the queen’s brow. ‘Your bloodline shall carry my light through the dark times. One day, shadows will threaten to consume all. When that happens, your line will stand as guardians between the light and the void.’
“Lila emerged from the Ashen Grove transformed. Her eyes now held flecks of gold like captured sunlight. The storms ended that very day, and Aurelia flourished once more.”
If she focused hard enough, Alaire could almost feel her mother’s fingers brushing her hair from her forehead.
But the memory fractured, shifting from fable to warning. Alaire clung to the images of her mother, desperate not to let them go.
Shadows flicked across the walls, geometric shapes engraved into every inch. She tried to turn her head, but searing pain bloomed at her neck as teeth sank into her flesh. The venomspread quickly, constricting her airways, making each breath a struggle.
Her memories tugged her from the agony worming into every cell.
The horizon stretched in strokes of pink, violet, and orange. Golden beams spilled against the alabaster and rose quartz of the palace gardens.
Alaire rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her mother had woken her on the morning of her tenth birthday, before the castle had sprung to life.
Agony yanked her back to the present—a brutal tug at her veins. Alaire’s head lolled to the side, the scent of iron thick in her nostrils. A cold claw gripped her jaw, forcing it still.
The pull dragged her deeper into the memory.
She was back in Dawnspire, following her mother into the throne room.
“Sitting on that throne is a sacred duty, a solemn responsibility that will one day be bestowed upon you by the people of Aurelia,” her mother said.
Queen Elara came up behind her, placing warm hands on her daughter’s shoulders.
“The crown is not a symbol of power but of service. Wear it with humility. It is your foremost duty to your people. Do not turn away from hardship. Courage is acknowledging your fear, harnessing it, and moving forward despite it.”
A gasp tore from Alaire’s throat as poison blazed through her body, skin burning as if flayed from her body.
“In diversity, there is strength. Embrace different voices and perspectives. Ensure they have a voice, and more importantly, the chance to use it. Whatever answers you need will always be found inside you. And always lead with love.”
Tears blurred Alaire’s eyes. She couldn’t tell if they were her own or the memory’s.
“Why are you telling me this?”
Her mother spun her gently to face her.
“Because you are my heir. Soon, you’ll begin training to one day wear the crown. My mother spoke the same words to me on my tenth birthday. They’ve always given me strength.”
The hot breath of a creature hovered near Alaire’s throat. The present pressed in—then slipped away.
Her mother stroked her wavy hair.
“What is it?”
Alaire gritted her teeth against the pain, but the memory pulled deeper into her mother’s presence.
Queen Elara clasped her daughter’s hands, guiding her toward the steps of the dais bathed in buttery light.
“When Lila traveled into the Ashen Grove long ago, Lysia bestowed a gift to her. It was to be entrusted to each female heir of the Vallorian line, and it must remain secret.”
The ground trembled—or perhaps it was only her bones cracking.
