The Ashes Wake

Chapter 25: Romulus

Romulus
"We gather here once again to discuss the hiding of dark texts. We few are the only who can decipher the dead languages, yet I fear what will come if these books leave our sight."

Excerpt from the Death Collector's Coven of the Readers meeting transcript
5789 Year, Majira Season

-

"Death has a melodic ring;
deep a creature sings,
upon ashes wake to revenge their sting.
But they move,
an ancient beast,
that destruction,
and on the Realm... it shall feast."

"A battle... for tongues... has begun,
an wolf becomes a son;
the Men.... declare there to be... Ones.

In a place.... where killing... is for
a child creature-"

Again and again, the words whispered in Rom's mind. First, the Szithorith girl emitted them from dead lips and hazy eyes as she laid in an unfilled grave. Then the Ligna appeared, who seemed more and more familiar to Rom, speaking in his raspy voice. Finally, it was Trifica who entered his dreams.

She was standing in a red river. It had the horrible consistency of blood. Two children were on one side of her, three on the other, all holding hands. They looked various ages, but none very similar to her. One had stunning, purple hair, and one was only a babe.

They all opened their mouths simultaneously and recited the words-the oracle, if the Elders were right. Their voices were high pitches; wails, almost. As they neared the last lines, the river started rising until it met their mouths. The children disappeared first under maroon waves until only Trifica was left speaking. Her face was contorted in pain, as if she knew the children below the red river couldn't be saved, as if she soon would join them, choking on thick, bloody water-

"Romulus, wake up! Wake up!"

The scene disappeared, the river gone. Instead, light from the four moons shined down on Raiden, who crouched in front of him, creating a silhouette. Rom blinked hard, drawing things into focus. Trifica's shivering figure laid behind them, dozing on top of her long coat. The fire Raiden had made the night before was faintly licking the night air with its flames. Rom had wondered what the Elders would've had to say about a creature conjuring fire with words.

Rom moaned and pushed up onto his elbows. Cold grass registered on his skin; he preferred sleeping on the ground rather than on garments. He shook his head and pressed the backs of his paws-no, palms-into his eyes.

Raiden stood up. "Come this way. We should talk."

Rom sighed. He wasn't the best at talking. He got up all the same, trying to ignore the brisk wind that cut through the material that covered him. The garments still felt weird on him-the fabric, constantly rubbing against his skin, and the lack of long hair skimming his bare spine felt odd.

He glanced at Trifica. She shifted in her sleep but looked peaceful. He was envious. The dreams haunted him while awake as much as they did asleep.

He followed Raiden into deeper brush, out of ear from Trifica so they wouldn't wake her. The powerful boy creature had on all black, and would've been hard to discern if Rom hadn't been so used to seeing in the dark. They stopped near a Saggysap, its long tendrils grazing the forest ground.

"I'll share some information with you if you do the same," Raiden said. "I can see there's more going on, more than you've been willing to share. I'd talk in shadow wolf tongue, but you should practice in ours. Outside the forest, the creaturic script is used by nearly all. Only a few species, like the Death Collectors and the Szithoriths, have languages they use among their own kind."