A Soul on Fire

Smoke and magic filled Ashling's lungs as she darted between foes. The warlock’s undead army had used the cover of night to descend upon their camp. Her dagger dug into an undead’s chest, his tattered cloak giving way as she ripped the pauldron off his shoulder.

Aiden was out there, she felt his magic like a warm campfire. The light from his fire casting contrast to her shadows. She prayed to the old gods he would be alright.

She held the piece of armor like a shield, blocking a sword before she could duck under and rekill another undead. It felt like ages ago when they had faced their first, a man in a tavern who attacked Aiden. Just another piece to the larger puzzle. Honestly this whole thing had become an example as to why Ashling hated prophecies.

Lightning struck from above, the Great Warlock of lore finally joining his undead. His laughter sounded like broken glass, he clutched a staff that dwarfed the undead around him. “Prince Aiden of Leus, come face your death at my hands!” His thunderous voice boomed across the valley sending chills of fear down Ashling’s spine.

The army swayed like the sea, blocking Aiden’s path to their leader. “AI-” She tried to call, but the sound drew the unwanted attention from the nearest undead. They honed in on her, their swords and spears searching for her in her darkness. Weaving between them like the threads of fate. Her knife slit across the elbow of one, causing him to drop his spear. Tossing the pauldron she grabbed the spear stabbing him through his chest.

As he fell back, the spear catapulted up, she used the momentum to climb up another’s shoulders. She scanned the battlefield, the undead’s gargled shout muffled by her boot. Fire blossomed like a flower nearby, Aiden’s red hair and copper eyes visible within the flames. Their eyes met, and it was like the first time all over again.

The abandoned tower, her silent footfalls on the floor. For the first time in her life someone saw through her shadows. He had been so much younger then, soft eyes, merciful hands. “You know most men buy me dinner before pinning me to the floor.” She had quipped. He snorted, the first of many.

“Ash!” He called her name, his flaming sword swinging in an arch, lighting the undead like kindling.

Shadows pooled around her as she slit the undead’s throat and ran to him. “Aiden the stone!”

His free arm wrapped around her waist. He drew her near. Shadows wrapped around them like silk, hiding them both. “I know, I have it.” She nodded before pulling back just a fraction. If the gods would allow she would hold him there. Undetected in the cover of her shadows. But the warlock had to be killed, their whole kingdom was at stake. “Can you give me an opening?” His timber voice whispered to her like a prayer.

Her breath hitched, her stomach knotted at the thought. She glared at him before punching his shoulder. “We are surrounded by an undead army, and you want me to distract the most powerful warlock to have ever existed.”

“Second most powerful, if the prophecy is to be believed.”

Right, because she was currently being held by the first. “Of course I can give you an opening. But if you need an escape I’m leaving you.”

He snorted, letting her go. She crouched down, easily side stepping between the sea of undead to their master. Aiden was a step behind her. Her shadows stretched to cover them both. Even like this she could feel Aiden’s presence, a glowing sun in her night.

Together they threaded within the gaps between the soldiers. When Ashling stepped out of the fray she found the warlock standing tall in front of her, smelling like death and decay. Her hands shook on her daggers. With a deep breath she threw off her shadow cloak. His steel eyes focused on her, but she didn’t give herself a second to be afraid. She lunged forward with her daggers, finding weak points in his golden armor. She dug between his chestplate and the lower panel as far as she could. His hands looked frail, but held to her cloak like steel. Her feet left the ground as he lifted her up. She changed her grip to stab his arm but never got the chance. With an effortless wave he tossed her through the air. She crashed into a pile of corpses not far from the warlock.

It had been enough. Aiden had stepped out from her shadows. Even in her haze she saw him. He stood before the great warlock without fear. She threw shadows over herself ready to grab him if she had to.

Adothclag, the stone of legends glowed softly. Her eyes followed it as it fell from the pouch into Aiden’s outstretched hand. “May a new era of light begin.” Aiden’s soft voice was all she could hear when his hand closed around the stone.

All of their hard work, years of training, and sacrifice, the deaths of so many. Everything to bring Aiden, Prince of Leus, prophesied soul on fire to this one moment. It all replayed for her in that half second. The good, the laughs, the joy. The way his eyes tracked her across a room. The way he lit up her life.

A blinding light flashed over the valley. Her shadows thickened to protect her sight. Screams came from the undead and when it was all over the smell of burned flesh was all she could smell.

When she looked up tears began to streak across the mud and blood on her face. Aiden, her prince, her light, the other half of her soul was nothing more than a burned out husk. The sound of the villain’s laugh set her blood on fire.

It wasn’t possible. Her stomach dropped, had the prophecy been fake? Hope died in her chest, the future king of light, the sun to her darkness, the torch of the future. Aiden. If Time were a solid thing she could turn back, she would steal him away, move to a different tower where no one would find them.

Her feet moved before her brain. Forget the prophecy, forsake the old gods and their magic. Aiden deserved better than this. He deserved happiness, he deserved to live. Her soul burned in her chest. The wizard jumped, expertly smoothing over his surprise with a sneer. She did that, so many people walked past her without seeing her. So many people looked past her. Never Aiden, he saw through the shadows to her. The only one to really see her. It was worse when she was at Aiden’s side, but it gave her an advantage. You can’t stab what you can’t see. “Who do you think you are?” He leered at her.

He didn’t even raise his staff to her, fool. She plucked the stone from the ashes that used to be her best friend.

“You think you could do better than the chosen one? History will never know you, I don’t even know your name.”

A fire had been lit in her soul. There was no one left between the Warlock and the world. All of their sacrifice, Aiden’s sacrifice. Her shadow whipped like a sail in a storm behind her. Aiden wouldn’t die in vain. She looked up at the wizard who towered over her, her hand closing on the stone. “It’s Ash.”