Embers to Flames (Fates Entwined #1)

Chapter Two

As I pass through the streets of Mara, the sight of our people lyingpassed outon the stone walkways, ensnared by theeuphoric effectsof a substance known asAuraroot, is disheartening. I have never seen this root firsthand, butMeemaw, an avid gardener, has delved into its secrets.

Auraroot, she says, is made from the crushed leaves and blackened berries of theaura bush. Scholars of old discovered that chewing the root grantedstimulationandelation. But one daring soul boiled the roots into ahallucinogenic tea, and another ground it into a potent powder. The euphoria, irresistible in its allure, drew in even those who had resolved to resist its call. Hours of bliss followed each consumption. And thus,AurarootDust emerged—a coveted commodity. People inhale it directly through their noses or mix it with tobacco, chasing both pleasure and profit. Yet, the cost is steep. The Auraroot users have grownpoor and frail, forsaking tithes and family care. They dance on the precipice of addiction, their senses clouded.

As far as I know, Mikyl remains untainted—for now. But doubt creeps up like a shadow. The island mourns its lost souls, and I pray to the Gods that Mikyl’s resolve continues to hold. For Auraroot, like any forbidden fruit, promises both ecstasy and peril. And so, I tread carefully, wary of meeting the Gods face to face.

The boat ride to Kaladis is always cold and misty in the early hours of the morning. I take my seat in the back of the boat and open the latest book I’d been reading. By the time the boat docks on the mainland, I should be done with it. I’ll have to try and sneak my way to the library during lunch to see if Alyndra has any other recommendations. She always seems to have the perfect book for me, as if she knows what I want to read without me even saying it. It’s almost like she can read my emotions. Sending me home with stories filled with action and romance makes me wonder even more about how much she knows.

My dreams these past few months have me thinking mostly about the mystery person who sends warmth through my veins like I’ve never felt before. That deep and majestic voice that whispers to me and seemingly brings me to safety. Although I wish he really knew what he was bringing me back to.

“Nice weather we’re having, eh?” The snarky helmsman doesn’t normally say much on the ride over. His sarcasm is clear though today as I look up at the cloudy sky and give him a sly grin before returning my eyes to the pages of my book.

I’ve always been a shy and quiet girl. Keeping to myself is how I stay invisible. Being invisible in the world today is what keeps a person alive. I can’t argue with his satire though. We haven’t had much sunshine on the island since the war. Seems the fighting left its dreary mark on more than just the people. It’s as if mother nature herself knew how much had been sacrificed and just how sad the world has become. Kaladis, however, seems to be immune to the dreary feeling of the lands surrounding it.

We dock at Port Ula just as I am finishing the last page. The bright lights of Kaladis are shining through the haze of the fog coming off the sea. I’ve worked for the house of Erhorn for nearly three years now. Cooking and cleaning for Elves was not something I ever thought I would be doing. But it pays the tithe at home and keeps my belly full, thank the Gods.

Mikyl hasn’t brought home much gold lately. He sells vegetables from our garden at the market in Tanathil. I can only assume the gold goes to mead and ale. I often wonder if he has succumbed to the temptation of the Auraroot Dust. Not that he would tell me if he had. In the past year, there have been only a few instances where he showed signs of something more than just being drunk when he returned home. Drunkenness usually comes with stumbling around and slurring words. When Mikyl comes home, he typically just passes out wherever he lands.

However, there had been a night not too long ago when he returned home full of rage. Like an evil presence had possessed him. He was angry, aggressive, and confrontational. I’ve tried to erase that night from my mind. I’d had no choice but to barricade myself in the bedroom while I listened to him run around the rest of the cottage, crashing into furniture, thrashing about and breaking things, screaming obscenities, and speaking of things I could never understand.

Even Eulee had been weary of him and she is a descendant in a long line of fierce warriors, belonging to the most formidable Wolf clan in the realm. She laid in front of me on the bed, guarding me in preparation for a battle she didn’t want to fight, but was willing to if it came to that. A shiver runs up my spine and I shake the memory from my foremind as I step from the boat and pay the helmsman his coinage.

It only takes me five minutes to reach the Erhorn mansion while strolling leisurely. Lord Erhorn is a senior Elf who expects very little from his servants. I had been very fortunate to gain employment within his house after the war .

I enter through the kitchen door and begin making his breakfast. Just as I am pulling a tray of golden biscuits out of the oven, the sisters arrive.

Lenna, the eldest, stands with a poised grace, her long blonde hair cascading down her back in soft waves. Her piercing blue eyes are filled with a hint of mischief.

Beside her, Ava, with her chestnut hair and blue eyes, exudes a youthful exuberance. Her hair, slightly shorter and more tousled, frames her face in a playful manner. The resemblance between them is uncanny, from their fair complexion to the way they carry themselves with an air of confidence and charm.

Lenna, with her sharp wit and silver tongue, scoffs at me with a hint of envy in her voice. “Rosanhi,” she says, “how is it exactly that you always seem to beat us here? The walk from Beetlebark is certainly less than your passage from Bahulya.”

Her sister Ava nods in agreement, her eyes taking in the feast before them with longing.

“Probably because I like to wake before the rooster crows.” I reply cleverly. “It’s a blessing and a curse, believe me.”

Ava begins preparing Lord Erhorn’s tray without a word—her normal.

I lean into Lenna and whisper, “She still isn’t talking?”

Lenna’s lips thin and she shakes her head, no. Ava is a pretty girl. Young and vulnerable. She had received an invitation to serve at the Spring Gala. An invitation to work at one of the Elven balls would gain someone a whole month’s worth of extra gold. It was an honor for a Human servant. It meant the High Lords noticed our diligent work and trusted us to carry out the festivities without a hitch in the evening.

Elven balls were extravagant and meticulously planned out. Not so much as a creased linen could be discovered. Ava came back different though. We all expected her to be as elated as she had been the day she received her invite. Yet she was not. She was silent. Not a word since.

Her family had taken her to the Raven Temple, convinced she had been poisoned in some way. The Witches only offered that her reason for silence was nothing more than a mental qualm.

Something had occurred that evening, but the details remain a mystery. Perhaps we will never uncover the truth. Lenna has told me of the nightmares that wake Ava late at night. She screams and cries out, but there are still no words. Not a hint as to what is going on inside her mind.

Lord Erhorn is in his study already. Flipping through various pages of tomes and scrolls. I place his tray down and wait for him to acknowledge that it is there.

He looks up from his studying, “Ah, Rose. Many thanks to you. Bring the tea over here please. ”

Lord Erhorn is the only other Elf I know that still shows us Humans any form of consideration. Alyndra is the first. All of the others look down on us. Humans are considered less than in the eyes of the Elves.

“Tell me, Rosanhi, how are things on the isle? I heard there was a commotion in Mara last night.”

“I wouldn’t know sir. I don’t travel through that area after sundown. It looked the same this morning though. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Interesting,” he muses, flicking through a report in his hand. “According to the captain of the guard, there was a fight between two individuals outside the tavern. One of them was found dead in an adjacent alley. No one is willing to speak up about what they witnessed, if anything at all.”

My mind immediately shifts to thoughts of Mikyl and where he might have been last night. That blood was on his tunic and coat. I really hope it is just a coincidence.

“I’m sorry I cannot help you more, My Lord.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright child. Better that I know you were safe at home. What about your husband? Did he happen to venture into the town of Mara?”

Damn! I should have known he would inquire about this .

“He worked in the market late. I’m not sure at what hour he returned home, already having been asleep when he arrived.”

A half-truth .

Lord Erhorn looked at me quizzically, his eyes gleaming, as if he didn’t fully believe me. “Alright child. Off with you. I have some inquisitions to attend to.” He waves me away and I start for the foyer.

“Oh, and Rose, my nephew will be traveling from Paeris for a visit. He will be staying for a while and should be arriving later this afternoon. Will you please make sure the visitors’ chambers are ready?”

“Of course, sir.”

His nephew?

Three years I’ve worked here, and this is the first I am hearing of a nephew. I suppose Lord Erhorn would have a family somewhere. Just strange that he has never mentioned them before.

“His name is Theodas,” said Erhorn. “You won’t have any trouble spotting him. He is the only one of my kind born in the last century with wings.”