From the Ashes

Chapter 10 ~ Heir of Nothing

As the minutes ticked by in silence, Morana found herself easing up. She didn't move her hand off her dagger, but her body wasn't as tense and she was able to pry her gaze from Tarion without a sudden jolt of fear that he would attack her.

The male just kept watching the fire, seeming almost mesmerized by the leaping flames. She couldn't help but wonder if the fact was owed to the warmth and light of the fire, as opposed to the cold darkness of the dungeon.

Finally, Tarion's garnet gaze shifted from the flames to her. "It's your turn. Who are you and what answers do you seek here?"

"Morana Nellthore," she answered. "And you already seem to have some idea about what I'm looking for."

"The truth about Astaroth and why he hunts you?"

She blinked in surprise. She guessed he'd figured out something about her, but for him to already know this much... Morana clutched her dagger, eyes narrowed with suspicion. "How do you know that?"

"Your blood. God-blood. Corrupted Fae can taste the difference, and because the power in your blood is more potent, it makes them stronger than normal blood. I shouldn't be this strong after such starvation with only a trickle of blood in my system."

Morana shoved herself backwards and lit a ball of light. The male only watched her before rolling his eyes. "Relax, Lady Phoenix. I'm not going to hurt you." He paused and frowned. "Well, not intentionally."

"How reassuring," she scoffed. "And don't call me that."

"Why not? That is who you are. I could taste Hadeon's might within your blood." Tarion stretched one leg out before him and propped the other up, letting his arm drape across his knee while he braced his weight on his other palm. Stray locks of wavy black hair swooped over his brow when he cocked his head.

"Have you tasted his bloodline before? If you're really the Heir, then you must have known the Phoenix who came before me, right?" Morana retorted.

"No, I didn't. I'm not that old. I was only twenty-eight during the Ash War."

That caught her off guard. So young. Not in his hundreds, two-hundreds, or even three-hundreds. Barely twenty-eight. He'd only just begun settling into his immortal aging cycle and the heightened power that came with it, as all Fae did when they reached their twenties.

Up until then, they aged as rapidly as Humans and their power was little more than a drop. How old was he when he was Corrupted, she couldn't help but wonder? The same age? Older? Younger?

"You saw Astaroth's arrival," Morana said, choosing her words carefully. "You witnessed the Time of Corruption."

Tarion turned away, once more gazing into the fireplace. Morana listened in silence as he began a tale she'd heard many times, but never from someone who'd witnessed so much of it. He had not seen Astaroth's arrival in person, but had read the reports given to his parents and later traveled with them to the Gray Desert to see the destruction for themselves.

He told her of the first battles of the Ash War, and how each one that came after was bloodier than the last. Tarion spoke of the first Corrupted, elite warriors of the ancient and loyal Cahirim whom Astaroth targeted on the battlefield and bent to his will.

How they ran rampant across the land, killing or capturing anyone with even a kernel of power in their bloodline. Always searching for that one line that would lead them to whom Astaroth truly sought.

"Why does he seek me?" Morana asked when Tarion ceased his tale. "I know it's because I was born into Hadeon's power, but why? Why does he want me specifically?"