Out of Evenfall (BOOK 1)

Chapter 50

ADARA

Ashen fields stretched across the entirety of the knolls, twisting into silver curls of smoke. Every step she tread left a body behind. Some slumped against trees, faces ripped to the skulls from the Derelict attacks. Most of them wore the golden armour of the Storm Wardens. Others the sigils of their countries. From the dancing amphitheres to the dragon who expelled lightning. Rot and decay filled the air with the silver smoke and the wasted bushes. Leaves fell to the ground of death. Adara choked on the smell of burning flesh and mold.

What have I done?

In her worst moment, her magick responded in kind. Unable to regain control as Blackwall released the wardstone. King Laucan shuffled back from her in shock, awe, and fear all.

Screams fell silent.

Derelicts never howled.

People gathered the bodies of the dead they passed, though she couldn't find Yuven and Fenrer. Her heart trembled at every fallen Storm Warden. Crescent blades soaked in shadow stained blood. Oath necklaces bereft of the powerful star. Small flames continued to burn the temporary shelters, with magickae dulling the embers or using what water they could manage in their exhaustion to smother the fires. Adara forced her way through the summit grounds, trying to find some familiarity among the flayed corpses.

In a world full of colour, she walked among the crimson silver. Some people huddled underneath short trees, whispering assurances to each other. Where are they? Did I... do this? Adara stopped by a knoll, where one wardstone crumbled to dust. Knees bent, she hit the ground and stared down at her hands. They trembled with the weight of the sobs behind her. She pressed her knuckles into her flaming head, and the embers tore at her blood and she breathed the ash. "I didn't... mean for this to happen."

'Magick is a blight! It is a curse! It brings only ruin!' the voices of the fallen Teboran's echoed around her as they brought their brutal justice on the innocent, without proof of the magick. It was me. It was me. I brought this to them. Tears left trails in the grime on her cheeks.

"Gather the bodies!" a familiar melodic voice called over the ringing of the world. "Find any Aurus who have learned to perform the ritual of deliverance!"

Yuven. Adara dropped her hands to her legs and followed the source. She choked on the sight of Yuven and several other injured Storm Wardens dragging their dead on makeshift litters. Some without heads. Others missing body parts. Without any strength, she forced herself to her feet to follow behind them back to the centre, where the arena from before was no longer a place to fight, but a place for grief as the Storm Wardens placed the fallen among the centre while the survivors took down the seats with ease. Adara made her way towards Yuven as he sent orders.

"We'll burn the bodies once we're sure the spirits aren't entangled," he said to another weary Warden, who looked ready to drop and join the dead themselves. Blood ran down their cheeks, while dust and ash littered Yuven's white hair. "Find any of the dead that you can and whatever Aurus is capable of performing the ritual."

"Yuven?" she rasped, but could barely hear her own voice over the cries of despair in her head.

Yuven ignored her, or never heard her in the first place. The Storm Warden brought their fist up to their chest, though the motion sent them reeling before they shuffled off, across the field of bodies. Adara bit on her lips and stepped further away from Yuven until her back hit a small tree, sliding down the crumbling bark.

"Traye!" a thunderous voice called across the field.

King Reyn left the smoldering underbrush, tugging along his own litter with a barely recognizable corpse. Clothes drenched in blood and meat, she choked at the smell from across the way. He set them among the bodies of the Storm Wardens. "My brother is bringing some more Wardens and those who have died. We're still looking for any who are missing, and trying to stabilise those with more serious injuries," he said, unperturbed by the hell he stood in. "I have a chirurgeon on hand doing what they can, but..." He shook his head, and his two small braids clicked against his cheeks.