A Heart Of Ashes - RHYSAND STORY

◘Otso◘

Flames engulfed the small cottage... swallowing it whole in a glowing orange light. They danced and crackled...taunting her... Bastards... blood in the air... smoke stinging her eyes... screaming of the animals... a horse whinnies shrilly... blades swing... a few drop dead... blood...blood everywhere... the cottage gives a groan as it collapses in itself... attacking from all directions... she drops another Bastard... tears streaming down her face... ashes drift through the air... lunges... snarls... she's knocked down... the world spins... splitting pain in her head... a knees drives into her stomach... struggling... she's pinned... nails digging into her flesh... hands wrench her legs apart... kicking madly... screams... there's a deafening roar... Bastards scream... fleeing... indigo eyes....

She awoke with a startled gasp, but when she moved to roll away from the Bastards she was blocked by something firm and warm. Blinking, her whirring, groggy mind gradually registered that she was no longer surrounded by them. The sky was not black in the deep hours of night, and she did not hear the Bastards' cackles as they pillaged her home. Instead, she was greeted with a gentle warmth that cocooned her entire body as she lay on her side in the soft grass. When she looked up, however, her still hazy mind was greeted with a confusing sight. It was not the sky she was looking up at, but what looked like the roof of a silver tent—until she realized the canvas had vague outlines of veins. She froze, realizing what she was looking at. Slowly, she turned her head to look down by her feet, and she was met with the sight of a muscular leg, clawed foot, and long tail. Blinking, she looked in front of her at Rhysand's head, which was resting on the ground as well, his eyes closed in slumber. That was the moment she realized she was laying with her back against his side, and she was under his wing.

Slowly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, beyond confused. Reaching back, she rubbed a sore spot behind her head as she tried to remember what had happened, when a smell caused her to stop in her actions. Smoke. She smelled smoke. Before she even thought it through, she was standing and walking out from under the huge wing, careful to keep her footsteps silent as the night as she passed by Rhysand's head. The moment she was given a clear view of her surroundings, she knew exactly where she was. Her footsteps were slow, her feet feeling heavy as she slowly walked to the edge of the hill, knowing what she would find but being unable to turn herself around. When she peered down at the remains of her ruined home, it took all she had in her not to release tears.

Her home was in ruins. All that remained were charred remains of the stones used to construct the walls, the rest laying in a pile of blackened ash. The lifeless Bastard and lamia corpses remained lying motionlessly, scattered on the ash and bloodstained lawn around the cottage. It was the only reprieve that was given to her, knowing the ones who did this had met their deserved fate. It had dawned on her that she must have passed out on the hill the previous night, but what amazed her was that Rhysand had stayed with her. She recalled his thunderous roar and the blistering rage in his stormy eyes as he mercilessly slaughtered the Bastards, lips pulled back to expose serrated teeth in a vicious snarl. If it had been any other scenario, she probably would have been scared out of her wits, but the only thing she had felt at seeing the dragon had been relief. How he knew she was in danger, she did not know. All she could think about was that if he had not been there, she would have been gang-raped and killed by those abominations.

After a few minutes, she gained the courage to venture down the hill. It took a moment of searching, but she finally found her pack on the ground next to the dead body of a Bastard. In it was her book of sketches and other various supplies she had carried with her. The debris was still hot in some areas, so she had to be careful if she attempted to pick something up. A small handful of items had survived the flames, being made of either metal or some other non-flammable material. She kept her eyes solidly trained away from the animal corpses, refusing to look at their charred remains. It was like looking at the dead family member for he, and she simply couldn't stomach it at the moment. While she was sifting through the ashes, she hadn't taken notice of Rhysand's large silhouette on the hilltop.