Dancing In The Ashes

Chapter One

Chapter One | Inside
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The hymn of water on gravel splayed upon the marsh, drowning out all other sound. The surrounding area was unnervingly barren, no signs of life within a five mile radius. Even the chatter of the birds died down, bringing with it an aura of contempt.

Then a pause-as if nature held its breath. A sharp intake as time slowed upon itself, narrowing with dangerous intensity.

A trot of hooves upon sodden ground whisked past, and any watching eyes moved away, fear striking up within their empty ranks. An ear-splitting loss of noise reigned once more, interrupted only by the cluster of life approaching their destination.

Glimmering blue rivers churned, as if in protest, edging away from the miscreants who dared intrude on its grounds. A ripple of whispers as its currents began to slow, turning toward the source of color littering the blank terrain.

There were voices-a lovely, soft melody, and a simpering croon, blades strapped to their sides shifting with every movement, cutting deeper with every step. They were talking, conversing amongst themselves. A gentle peal of laughter rang across the clearing, the breeze dancing in the aura of euphoria-of blessed power.

The swaying of the waves stopped, yet they paid no heed, eyes crinkled with laughter and expectation. Just a pair of travellers, slipping past the peaceful domain. The leaves stopped swaying, the breeze halted its dance, rearing.

A flash of red as it shuttered, refusing to let foreign influence taint its atmosphere.

A moment later, there was a gasp. A thunderclap, a deafening roar.

Only a lone silver blade nestling in the grass as nature echoed its own call.

~

The survivor sat still, her face pale as death, her dark hair matted, clinging to her skin. She had yet to open her eyes, fingers clenched tightly-as they had been for half the duration of the ride.

Leo's face was carefully blank as he held her in place, eyes flaming irritably when she nearly fell from the steed they rode on.

Stay. In. The. Saddle. he snarled silently.

The horse, an alabaster coated creature with large, golden eyes and a smoothed back mane, whinnied softly, struggling to move on the dry earth beneath its feet.

At least the horse could understand. He thought drily. Her skin was growing increasingly soft and clammy, though it confused him as to why. A draft blew by them, and she shivered, body temperature plummeting. So cold that he nearly let go, nearly shoved her away.

The water that used to soak her from head to toe had long since been dried away, yet she continued trembling as if they were traversing through the coldest part of the world.

Maybe they were.

"Captain Hallor!" One of the men called out. Leo slowed his pace to match that of his comrade.

Raphor, he recalled, taking in the soldier's toned face. Derek Raphor.

"Yes?" Leo asked, leaning back a little and speaking in a low, barely audible whisper, a dubious eye narrowed on the figure in front of him. She remained motionless, except for the occasional shake of her body. He'd asked his men to hand him a cloak, and he'd slung it around her shoulders, yet the incessant shivering didn't cease. He wrapped his own furlined cloak tightly around himself.

"Scouts report a fork in the road ahead," Raphor told him, "One leads to the East, and one leads to... Prime Quarter. In which direction should we head in?"