From the Ashes

Chapter 6 ~ Hadeon's Phoenix

The village covered every inch of ground Morana could see. In fact, she'd be tempted to call it a city if she were certain of its size in the real world and not just in this pocket, as Lonan had called it. But city or village, it was more beautiful than any civilization she'd ever seen.

Elegant buildings constructed mostly of pillars and archways surrounded her, glistening alabaster in the sunlight for the sky was open here, not covered entirely by the forest canopy. She initially thought the structures were made of stone, but when they passed beneath a set of woven arches forming a short veranda, she saw that a type of ivory wood was their main component.

The only stone was that forming the street they walked on, the foundations of the buildings around them, some beautiful bubbling fountains, and the few bridges Morana could see in the distance. Shrubs and bushes lay scattered at random, leading her to believe they had probably been built around, unlike the trees that were perfectly placed on either side of each street and before the verandas.

The trees were a mixture of white and brown trunks, but each one bore leaves of gold or copper. Morana had never seen the like, not even in books. When she and her companions crossed into an open street, she paused, lifting a hand to touch a leaf.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Lonan remarked.

Morana nodded. "I've never seen anything like them."

"Our villages are the only places they'll be found now," Arlon grunted beside her. "Lonan mentioned the seedlings that grow in Drenusha's light. These are the very same. But beyond our havens, there is only Astaroth's darkness. It chokes the life and beauty out of everything." Morana pursed her lips and let her hand fall.

They resumed walking but at a slightly faster pace now. A quick glance around told her why. Several Fae and Humans were watching them with wide eyes, their expressions constantly shifting between curiosity and wariness. Lonan and Arlon inched closer to her, more likely to hide her and ease the onlookers unease than to protect her, Morana guessed.

She could see the village's signs of age and troubled times, and knew it was likely that at least some of its denizens could remember what had caused that. They were wary with good reason, not just the suspicion of every day.

Many of the buildings were covered in cracks, their wood not as bright as others. Some had begun to crumble. Dust glistened in the thin sunlight and broken glass reflected at the base of abandoned homes. Overgrown ivy wrapped around archways and railings, and had almost completely consumed some buildings.

Morana kept her head down until they reached one such building. A vast flight of ivy covered stairs led up to one of the only brown structures she'd seen in the village. It was choked with crimson ivy and patches of moss and mushrooms that had sprung from cracks in the walls.

They halted before the door and Arlon raised his fist to knock. "Enter," a female's low voice answered. Arlon opened the door and jerked his head. Morana squared her shoulders and ducked inside. Lonan followed closely and Arlon stepped in behind him.

"She was right where you said," Arlon told the female who was seated before a glowing fire pit. No flames licked at its innards. Only embers smoldered within it, beneath a metal grate upon which a kettle sat. "Lonan was afraid we'd missed her."

"If you had, you would have found her within the next day," the female answered. Her eerie silver gaze lighted on Morana. "Sit beside me." A pale, slender hand gestured to the vacant space at her side. Morana hesitated, but Lonan nudged her with a shoulder and she relented.

Morana crossed her legs beneath herself and smoothed her wrinkled skirt, becoming aware once more of her unkempt appearance. The female beside her was a picture of perfection. Despite the ancient note within her voice, her smooth skin showed no signs of age aside from a few wrinkles around her mono lidded eyes.