Elemental Ascension, page 10
“Or both.”
He was on to something. Ash snagged his collar free and stormed off downhill, chewing his fingernails in deep thought. He stuffed the key back down his shirt before the wind could blow the ribbon off his neck.
Why would the Order want to bring back the God of Universal Energy's influence, he thought, if, upon his arrival, Astrals would lose their powers entirely when the flame went out and the egg was destroyed?
He put this question to Deerbolt.
“Astrals don't believe they will lose their magic. They believe their Alchemy is all that will remain.”
“Fools,” Ash grumbled.
Of the Gods, Universal Energy was the meanest, the angriest, and the most spiteful. He would immediately re-take Alchemy from the Land to provoke his father, the God of Magic, who banished his children. Universal Energy was the reason Humans were jealous, fought over land, livestock, jewels, and even other Humans.
Perhaps he would seek revenge on his sister, the God of the Senses, for surrendering the Gods' influence to their father in the first place.
It didn't matter—any action would birth a war against the God of Magic himself, and the Land would crumble beneath their rage.
Astrals would lose their gifts.
The Land would turn against them.
Genocide: that's where they were heading.
Ash insisted they speak to Raven and dragged Deerbolt along behind him as he half-walked and half-ran across the bridge, beneath the gate and its towers, and over the courtyard to the Keep's doors. Within the fortress boundaries, several small campfires were alight and encompassed by men supping ale, crooning, or performing for their brothers.
“Ash, it's the middle of the night!”
He ignored her, intending to wake Raven and escort him to the library to begin their research. He had questions. A lot of them. And these questions needed immediate answers.
◆◆◆
Ash recoiled and held open both arms as he paced the only space in the library that was not stacked four feet high with dusty old books.
“What do you expect me to do about it?”
Deerbolt rolled her eyes. She waved off his shock; Raven wasn't known for his subtlety or patience, but he was one of the most honest people she'd ever met.
“Ash, I think what Raven is trying to say is...”
Raven cut her off. He handed Ash another unrelated volume, bound in red leather, which Ash glared at quizzically,
“He wants to know if you have Tetrad knowledge.”
“Don't use that word here!”
“And don't call me that,” Ash snapped.
He slammed the book down on Raven's desk, sending a cloud of dust up into the air. All three of them coughed, but Raven continued working.
“Ash is looking for some advice, Raven, that's all. You've met many people in your years and crossed paths with the Order more times than I'd care to. Surely, you can—”
“I can't,” he said, interrupting her again, “and you know why, Captain Deerbolt. I suggest you take this man back to the Cerulean Grace and lock him in your quarters until he has read and understood the entire book I gave him. It locks for a reason!”
“I know, you said this is the key. Only, I tried, and it doesn't fit.”
“Yet. It doesn't fit yet. The book is an Elemental incantation guide that will—”
It was Ash's turn to jump in. “To train me to use all four of my Elemental powers, but I can't get it open!”
“What do you mean the key doesn't fit yet?”
Raven stopped abruptly and glared at Deerbolt, meeting her gaze. He flicked his wrist to pull back the curtain, releasing some of the dust in the air, then he took a deep breath.
Never had the men at the First Watchtower met a Tetrad, nor any other Alchemist in Raven's circle. Already, he thought Ash was cowardly—not at all the behaviour he'd expected of one so influential and capable beneath his thin skin. From what Deerbolt told him, this scoundrel was a traitor and a thief amongst other things, but because Raven loved the Captain as the daughter he never had, he hadn't expressed his concerns about their affair. Deerbolt so obviously still adored Ash the Elemental. Until Ash proved himself worthy of her and mastered his other Elemental skills, Raven wouldn't be issuing his blessing. That key would do the job for him, if Ash lived to use it. Besides, Tetrads were rare. Not only in the north but across the Land overall. Thousands of years ago when the Dragons ruled, there were many Tetrads and all with varying levels of skill. Usually, it took a Salamander parent carrying the Alchemy for a Tetrad to be born, and so Raven assumed either Ash's mother or father possessed the gift and, despite how difficult it must have been, managed to hide it. Perhaps they didn't know they could manipulate other elements. But, either way, Raven made it clear to Ash he'd likely been lied to. If not by his parents, then certainly a grandparent. So rare were Tetrads, Raven pondered, that if a Dragonborn Guardsman found out about his abilities, he'd be strung up immediately to protect the flame without a trial. Those by his side may suffer the same fate, so Deerbolt's life was at risk. Wasting time taking Ash to Dragonborn would prove too risky for the Guard; they'd either shoot him with an arrow, hang him, or cut him down where he stood.
The Order would be quick to capture and imprison him, though, then transport him to the island themselves. They'd use him to extinguish the flame to further their cult's cause and he'd most likely spend the rest of his days in a dungeon somewhere beneath the Gravelands until they needed him again. If they could find a suitable female Elemental, Raven knew of a few rich Astrals who would pay Ash well to produce Tetrad offspring, too. If he refused? Ash could still produce Tetrad children with or without his fingers, toes, his sight, or his tongue. In his weakened state, it wouldn't take much to convince him to perform as directed.
“The key is the key,” he said without explanation, then continued about his business, shuffling books around with one hand and using the other to rearrange them from shelf to shelf with basic Slyph incantations.
Deerbolt cast Ash a sideways glance. “Raven, be reasonable.”
Ash fired back, finding his bark and his bite at the sight of Deerbolt's frustration. “I've only known I could officially do this a few days. Just because some ridiculously heavy, stupidly intricate key doesn't fit into its lock, is that my fault?”
“You knew back then about your abilities, Ash the Elemental,” Raven countered. “You are in denial.”
“An Oracle told me I was a—”
“Don't say the T-word.”
“I wasn't going to.” Ash rolled his eyes, then argued, “I didn't show symptoms. How was I to know it was the truth?”
Ash lost his temper then and wiped a whole stack of organised books off the window ledge with his arms. He swayed and leant back against the stone wall for support.
“Deerbolt tells me you've been a wonderful mentor to her, like a father,” Ash said through laboured breaths. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He was starting to feel unwell again. “She entrusted you with this secret so you'd help us, or at least point us in the direction of someone who can. Why can't you do that?”
“Because,” Raven began quietly, concerned their argument was drawing too much attention to the library, “other than the book and key I gave you, young man, there are no remaining records of such Elementals in existence. Let me say that again... there are NO REMAINING RECORDS. Aghh, you're not going to listen,” he grumbled and waved Ash aside. “The Order burned anything and everything they could find in the west, and whatever made it east is either lost or owned by Dragonborn to protect the flame. Deerbolt is correct—I have travelled and met many Alchemists. None, I'm afraid, were like you. What you and Captain Deerbolt now hide,” he said, gesturing at the key beneath Ash's shirt, “is the extent of my offering. Now, may I suggest you leave, silently, and make haste for Land's Edge before anybody here gets the wrong idea and informs the Order of your whereabouts?”
“Can you at least tell me where the book and key came from?” Ash begged. “Where did you find them? Were they given to you?”
“I acquired them. Now GO!”
Ash couldn't bear feeling useless and ignorant any longer. He thanked Raven for nothing before storming through the curtain and back through the main hall.
When he'd gone and was out of earshot, Raven gently squeezed Deerbolt's shoulder.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
Chapter Nine
Unlocked
The key is the key, that's what Raven said before Ash had bailed. But, it made little sense, at least not to Ash and Deerbolt. He was over Raven's cryptic nonsense and in two minds about whether to throw the key into the dock. Before he did, Ash knew he really should try one last time to get it to unlock, but with the internal mechanism rusty and old, and the key's guardian equally as ancient and rough around the edges, he wasn't sure he'd have much luck.
Ash left the Keep and made haste for the drawbridge, counting his footsteps steadily in the soothing evening air. With only a few fires lit and torches on the wall, the sky overhead was clear and crisp, shining brilliantly with stars so large and so twinkly, he wanted to reach up and grab one.
He'd almost made it to the bridge when a man on the wall gave the signal to lift the walkway, barring anyone from entry or exit. Ash scowled and side-stepped to avoid two more men scurrying past and up an inner stone stairwell, which led to the main patrol above the entrance. Behind him, he could hear more men gathering their armour and weapons, shouting warnings and orders.
“What's going on?” he asked one of them, grabbing him by the sleeve as he sprinted by.
“It's the Order,” the man replied, fixing his helmet and then bending to tie the laces on his boots. “There's a ship bearing their flag heading this way.”
“Not to trade?”
“They're not supposed to know we exist!” the man snorted and set off running again, leaving Ash alone in the courtyard, panicking.
Of course. He'd promised Deerbolt there were no survivors of the ship they'd defeated in the Tradeway, and they were well out of view for any others to see where they'd docked and follow. But if someone here was disloyal and leaked they'd arrived after murdering a whole crew and sinking an Order vessel, no doubt those in power would seek revenge.
“Not good,” he whispered.
He turned on his heel and ran back through the Keep's open doors to the library. Deerbolt was already on her way out, and her eyes widened with fear when she saw Ash's stricken expression.
“The Order,” he began, panting, “they know we're here. The guards have locked down the fortress.”
Deerbolt drew her longsword from its place on her belt and led him outside. The wall was now lined two bodies deep with armed Guardsmen, all with arrows, crossbows or swords. They were covered head-to-toe in thick armour, which clanged when they changed positions. Ash thought the sound was reassuring, though he still didn't feel completely safe.
“We did this,” he said, “and the Order will destroy this place searching for us. Men are about to die.”
Deerbolt turned to him and narrowed her eyes. “Not if we can help it.”
“The Order has greater numbers and weapons.”
“They don't have you.” Deerbolt raised one eyebrow and grinned. “They don't have a Tetrad on their side.”
Ash groaned and tried to walk away. He knew it wouldn't be long before someone tried to use his so-called powers before he was ready.
“This is insane. I can't fight them off, Deerbolt.”
“Sure you can! You just took down one of their ships,” she encouraged, “and you weren't even trying then. You said it just happened, right?” When he didn't turn back, Deerbolt raised her voice. “If they get in here, we are all dead. You know that.” She paused. “Could you live with yourself?”
Ash halted abruptly. His jaw tightened.
I have your attention, Ash the Elemental.
“I must not have killed them all. They wouldn't be here if I did!”
“Nonsense. This is not your doing. Raven's book contains everything you need to defeat them again now—ten thousand of them if you wanted.”
“It won't open, and the book is out there,” Ash said, pointing at the wall, where the Grace was currently docked on the other side. “They raised the drawbridge and they were smart to. But don't think for one minute a moat and a wooden bridge will prevent them from getting in. We should search for a way out—a way to escape so Kite and Reverie are far, far away from here by the time they do.”
Without warning, Deerbolt took his borrowed longsword and pulled it behind her back when he reached to reclaim it.
“What are you doing? Go to the barracks and get Kite and Reverie. We have to go. Now.”
“No, you have to get that book open, or what else are you going to fight with?”
Ash sighed. “I have a dagger in my boot and Salamander magic... sort of.” He clenched his knuckles and then grabbed fistfuls of his mousey hair. “They are not going to let me out of here, and if they do, they are not going to let me back in.”
“Let me handle the Guardsmen,” she said and clapped with delight. “If I can get you that book, will you at least try to take Raven's advice?”
Ash nodded, but as soon as Deerbolt had gone to speak to the guards on the wall, the pit of his stomach dropped and he doubled over, taking deep, soothing breaths.
He could do this. He had to do this.
If he didn't, he would die. Deerbolt would die.
Deerbolt will die. Kite and Reverie will die. Their baby, too.
Deerbolt called his name from the base of the wall. He had no idea what she'd said to convince them, but the guards were lowering the drawbridge.
“Run, I only got you a few minutes.”
Ash set off in a frantic sprint for the Cerulean Grace. She slapped his back, leaving a sweaty handprint on the leather of his doublet.
Heading uphill were the Grace's deckhands, with Sarronious at the rear urging them to move faster. He waved a lit torch back and forth as a guide in the pitch black, and a man at the front responded by waving his. Deerbolt's crew would be of better use in the fortress where, Sarronious thought, he could also better protect her from the Order. If they wanted to harm her, they'd have to get through him first.
They would, eventually.
But he wasn't going down without a fight. He'd take as many of them with him to the Lingerverse as he could.
Astrals described the Lingerverse as a black, white and grey wasteland, populated by spirits and other ethereal beings trapped between their life on the Land and death in Akasha, with unfinished business, regrets or tormented by mistakes made in their physical form. Unbound by the laws of the Land, the Lingerverse was an Alchemical arena where some spirits battled for the Gods' attention, hoping to be favoured and transported from their haunting of limbo to a freeing afterlife. Other spirits, and most the Astrals encountered, were lingering and lost there for eternity, with few to remember them on the Land and even fewer to look upon them without prejudice in Akasha.
Though Ash had never seen the Lingerverse, travellers across Open Country and even the Dragonborn Guardsmen told stories and spread rumours. It was known to be a dark, lonely place, and souls imprisoned there were at risk of being controlled by Astrals and, if not released back into the Lingerverse in time, destroyed—completely removed from existence and forgotten. He liked to imagine it was actually a calm and gently colourful place, where souls could temporarily rest before moving on; a pause between worlds, reducing the impact of the drastic change from life to death. Perhaps Astrals only saw the Lingerverse in darkness because of their ill intent. If Ash could peer through the pane himself, he imagined being able to then report differently to his fellow Alchemists.
Every Alchemical group believed something unique, from every branch of Seer to an Oracle, Astrals, Velocals, and Elementals like Ash, no matter their preference of earth, air, fire or water. If they followed the old ways, they believed in the Gods and their imprisonment thousands of years ago. If they followed the new ways, they still believed in the Gods, but they had twisted beliefs about their place and purpose on the Land, and the vast opposite to others of their kind. Such Alchemists were cults of their own, including the Order, and how their views and morals were selfish compared to Astrals living separately to their organisation.
Sarronious wasn't afraid of death; he followed the old ways of Alchemy and always had. He, like Ash, had been brought up inland but to a Human family, and they'd taught him how to be generous, kind and hard-working away from most Alchemists who'd wish to do them harm. In his mind, the Lingerverse was the natural step between life and death, and if it meant protecting Deerbolt from whatever fate she feared, he would happily go there.
“Where are you running off to?” he called as Ash dashed past.
“The gate is open for a few more minutes. Run!”
His feet thundered heavily on the gravel pathway. The weight of his boots, plus the steep decline of the hill, forced Ash into a speed he wasn't entirely comfortable with. Unlike the marketplace's trading hill, lined with stalls and littered with people going about their daily affairs, there was nothing for Ash to grab hold of to slow him, and nothing to prevent him ploughing off the dock into the water, either.
Sarronious shouted, “HOLD THE GATE!”
The Cerulean Grace came into view as he neared the bottom. Ash was feeling dizzy and his vision was blurring through sweat and exhaustion. The enemy ship wasn't far off shore now, and he could see the burning torches flickering, hear the voices of angry Astrals, and feel the energy of the souls they sucked from the Lingerverse waiting to be directed into violence.
Ash put the brakes on his legs and locked them, skidding to a one-legged stop at the base of the Grace's wooden rope ladder, which he then clambered up clumsily. The book Raven gave him was hidden in Deerbolt's quarters. He knew exactly where to find it without rummaging or making a mess, but had no idea where she'd stored his weapons. But because of his speed, he knocked over a stack of books and forgot to close the lid of the chest, leaving Deerbolt's personal possessions on view. If the Order boarded and raided her things, there was little of any worth there, anyway.
