The Ashes Wake

The Before

An intense rapping pounded the door, making dust on the floor jump. In the corner of the room was a cradle, its wood hard and swollen, uncaring of the infant swaddled in a bundle of dirty cloths. His minuscule fingers curled into a fist next to his mouth and his breath escaped into the air, warm and sweet.

The noise brought a brittle creature out from the shadows. She was dressed in dark clothing but they too were rags. Smudges of charcoal rested on her hands as they wrung over and over. She licked her dry, trembling lips.

"He can't have found us," she whispered, glancing at the small child still sleeping soundlessly.

Another knock rang through the air, cutting through the wailing wind as its own shriek. She knew she had to answer the door; either way the thing outside would come in. With trepidation in her pupils she moved across the moaning floor slowly, like her feet were caught in sap.

When her hand finally met the knob, the rapping on the door became louder and urgent as if sensing her closeness, and she gave a small hiccup. She turned the knob and pulled. At first it was blindingly white and bright, the snow on the ground shooting crystalline rays, but then she focused on the enormous figure in front of her.

It shook its head as it stepped inside the shack and stared at her.

"You certainly outdid yourself this time, Cethus. It took the shadow wolves almost all season to find you."

Cethus pulled at the end of her rag dress with shaking hands, trying to flatten it. A whimper manifested in her throat. The thing that had entered took a step back and glanced around the room as a beam of light from the window caught him. His body was illuminated, but the sight didn't stun Cethus. She knew his kind.

His skin was moving rocks and pebbles, slowly rotating and dancing, emitting a faint sound like cement being made; his eyes were piercing, precious emeralds. Only his hands, feet, and face were visible. The rest of his gravelly body was hidden underneath a long coat that met his ankles.

"I will not do business with you, fero," she spat.

He gave a distasteful laugh, breath tumbling out like a smoke cloud.

"Fero?" he repeated quietly. "Glareums haven't been called feros for two hundred years, or have you been living under a rock yourself? Besides, you're right, we don't have business. Business is for civil beings, and this is no civil matter." His expression turned sullen, and his emerald eyes took on a darker shade, the color of kelp.

Cethus slowly crept between the Glareum's line of sight and the silent cradle as she spoke.

"You can't have him. I'll not let you use him how she pleases."

"The Royal will do as she wants. The entire Realm is hers for the taking," he said. "There's no changing it. Now, give me the golden child."

She hissed at him and clutched the youngling tighter.

"Don't start with me, you batty old Tonist," the Glareum said. "If I have to-"

But Cethus no longer stood in front of him. As fast as a Pixie she was at the cradle, the quiet baby bundled in her arms as she ran out into the snowy forest.

The Glareum roared in anger. He ran after her, his feet like boulders as they moved. He brought two thick fingers to his mouth and whistled.

Gray blurs appeared, running on all fours after Cethus's fading figure in the dense snowfall. But before they reached her, her foot caught a large Cerlac root buried in the snow and she fell into the plush.

The Glareum gave a shout of triumph when he caught up to his shadow wolves, who surrounded the Tonist. The baby in her arms was silent despite its fall.

He moved towards her, patting the alpha on his massive gray head. The shadow wolf almost stood taller than the Glareum's waist and his pink tongue lolled out of his mouth between his fangs. The shadow wolf growled and the sound reverberated against the trees.

"In due time," the Glareum whispered.

Cethus wailed and clutched the baby close.

"What can you do?" he taunted as he approached her, legs cutting through the snow. "You're too weak to fight and I dare say you Tonists never had much magic to begin with."

Her cry was loud and desolate as he ripped the swaddled baby from her brittle arms.

"Monster! Unfathomable beast! You'll rot in the void for this!"

The Glareum grasped the baby with surprising grace and gentleness in the crook of his arm as he smiled. Even his teeth were made of rock.

"Rot in the void I might, but the Realm Queen will love me." He turned toward his shadow wolves. "Feast."

The ten beasts descended upon the Tonist, their claws and snarls drowning out her screams. As her bones snapped and her flesh tore, the baby finally opened his mouth and wailed.

A sound like molten gold poured over shards of glass erupted from his mouth. It was an unusual cry, even to the Realm. The melodic wail shook snow from trees, making gnomes peek from their holes. It even made the shadow wolves look away from their almost devoured meal.

"Silence, little creature," the Glareum whispered as he moved a piece of cloth that had fallen astray back to cover the baby's chest. "Save your song of molten magic. The Realm Queen has need of you."

When the shadow wolves finished, the Glareum whispered a word-an old, feral language-and the wolves faded into the air, their shadows just barely visible as they ran into the forest. The stone creature looked mildly at the spot where Cethus laid seconds ago; only thick, crimson liquid and bones remained, spotting against the white powder in stark contrast.

The Glareum descended into the forest without a glimpse back, the baby clutched against his body, still screaming a song of misery and power.

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Did you all like the prologue? Is it interesting? Keep an eye out for these characters later on ;)