Embers: Book One of the Ascension Saga by Brock Mays

Author:Brock Mays [Mays, Brock]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brock Mays
Published: 2019-05-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

FALLEN SON

Aleksander awoke from his dream in a cold sweat. His heart thundered within his chest as he tried to remember where he was. The hospital bed in Laniras felt like the silken linens of a king’s bed compared to the pathetic cots in the slave camp. Several of his friends from his slave district and other allies lay wounded in nearby cots around him. They had won their freedom from the slave camp and survived the invasion of Nitra, but at great cost. Many of their allies had given their lives, but one person weighed more heavily on Aleksander’s mind than any other. Not a life that was taken in the traditional sense of death, but taken, nonetheless.

His dream was about her, but not as they used to be. He saw her face and heard her screams, the vivid image of her in the burning city imprinted into his mind. He wondered how many of the others felt the same about someone they had failed to save during their trials. Mara wasn’t dead as he had assumed. No, her fate was much worse. He closed his eyes and at long last succumbed to sleep.

The day came and passed, and the pale gold light of the dying sun gave little warmth to the cool spring evening. Everything it touched seemed to radiate a faint glow, causing the world to seem somehow softer as if the world were allowing its people a moment of reprieve from the chaos.

The funeral for Prince Xanthurias would soon begin, and the prince would be laid to rest alongside his fallen ancestors in a tomb beneath the palace in Laniras. The fallen in Nitra and those who died freeing the slaves were also to be honored during the service, including Petar, Sandor, and countless others who died from their wounds.

Dignitaries from all over Thanatanos were gathered to pay tribute to the fallen son. However, it was the masses of common folk that crowded outside the walls of the open-air chapel that displayed just how beloved Xanthurias was. The roof of the church was retractable, allowing the sky to shine into the room, despite the slight chill of new spring.

“I wish that I had known him,” Hanna said to Shanthah.

“You would have loved him,” Shanthah replied. “No prince has ever had a way with the people as Xanthurias had. Or such a way with the ladies,” Shanthah winked at Hanna, who giggled in reply. Aleksander sat in silence next to his friends, arms folded, and ankles crossed; he could not help but think that he did know Xanthurias, and he cursed his mind for not remembering him. Josman, Kamil, Pol, and Rehor sat in the white wooden bench behind the trio, and all of them bore visible wounds. Drahomir alone was absent.

The events of the past few days had been heavy on the minds of the former slave district. Other than Aleksander, Mara’s fall to the darkness had the most profound impact on her brother, Pol, and Rehor, the man that had not so long ago felt like a father to her.

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