Queen of Ash

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉

Rhoe had waited long enough. Ashlyn lay asleep in the single bed, snoring quietly. She fell asleep quickly after changing into one of Rhoe's shirts. The white shirt had been way too big on her and looked like a dress on her. Yet she still managed to pull it off. It had been an effort trying not to look at her but the king's words still echo in his head.

Do not touch her.

So he waited until she fell asleep before walking onto the balcony and watched the city below. It was beautiful and it took away his breath every time. The Elysian knew he shouldn't but the urge was too strong. The rippling wind and the stars called to him as he shifted, great Elysian wings spreading out behind him. They were beautiful, wings created from the gods themselves. He ruffled his feather, his primordial instincts kicking in. He couldn't hold it in any longer.

The Elysian pumped his wings and jumped off the balcony, sailing towards the ground. But right before he splattered against the pavement, he spread his wings to their full length and shot upward, leaving the sparkling city behind him. The warrior flew higher and higher, his years of training finally paying off. Rhoe couldn't hold back the giggle that escaped his mouth as he flipped, twirled and looped around in the dark sky.

The wind ripped through his brown curls as the warrior banked right, towards Misthaven's ocean. The blue ocean's waves crashed against the golden shores, music to his ears. Rhoe flew up higher before stopping in mid-air, his head among the clouds. The homesick warrior had forgotten about Misthaven's view from above. He'd forgotten about how the moon and the wind called to him as he banked left and right, winding through the streets. He'd forgotten the way the few villagers gaped at him as he soared past, thinking he was an angel.

But he hadn't forgotten the way the wind whistled in his ears, as he shot towards the ocean and skimmed the waves, salty water spraying his face. He'd always been wary about the ocean, for it would soak his wings, preventing him from flying. But the night he'd skimmed the waves, watching as Misthaven's dolphins and fish swam beneath him, he no longer feared the water. Who would have known such bliss?

But as he flew through Misthaven's streets, he remembered his job. His mission, to protect Ashlyn. And he had just left her alone in an unknown city. So the Elysian warrior flew back faster than light, praying that nothing had happened to her. Rhoe landed on the balcony, landing quieter than a cat.

He brushed off his clothes and combed his fingers through his hair, the euphoria of flying still coursing through his veins. But as he turned around to face the bedroom, he found Ashlyn staring at him, wide-eyed and jaw dropped.

***

She's felt it, the surge of magic once they'd crossed the human border. Ashlyn had felt the hairs on her arms rise as she walked out of the forest and as her magic had leaped once Rhoe had sheathed his sword. As if it knew where she was. Who she was. But Ashlyn knew one thing for sure. She was home. Wherever that was.

Her fire had been different when she'd lit the bedroom's fireplace, deeper. And so much stronger. She could barely control the fire and the flames that raged inside of her as she'd turned on the candles. But Ashlyn would ask Rhoe about it in the morning, for she hadn't slept well in several days.

Rhoe had insisted she'd take the bed and he the floor, despite all of her complaints. She'd walked over to the bed, realizing she didn't have anything to change into. But just as the fire wielder had turned around to ask the warrior, he'd handed her one of his shirts. She's slipped it on, his scent hitting her like a storm. He smelled of storms and waves crashing on the beach. Like the ones in Misthaven.

There were only communal bathrooms and Ashlyn didn't dare go down there to change so she dared venture into the corner of the room, hissing at the warrior to turn around. Grumbling about how humans were so self-conscious, he'd turned around why she slipped on his shirt, quickly hiding the scars on her back. She didn't know what or where they were from except that her nightmares were somehow connected to them.