Page 44 of Fallen: Darkness Ascending, Vol.1

Act I

T he unforgiving seat enfolded her, supporting her newfound weight.

It’s so cold.

Her arms laid upon rests on either side, each as broad as a plank. Pinpoints of ice stabbed her elbows and the heels of her hands. Endless chill seeped into her bones through her back, buttocks, and behind her legs. She could not tell if her feet were bare or even if they touched the floor.

Her eyelids lifted but her view did not change.

Black .

Her neck strained to lift her heavy head; the back of her skull touched stone frigid and unyielding as the rest.

Stand up.

She couldn’t feel her feet. She would topple over.

Magic, then.

She smiled slightly and stretched, arching her back, lifting her arms stiffly above her head. Her torso left the icy surface, the skin warming at once, muscles between her shoulder blades twitching, then burning as a pair of feathered, opalescent wings erupted from her body.

Get up.

Palms braced in the utter blackness, she suffered the burning freeze to test her wings like a shorebird upon a cliff.

Her wingtips touched only air, proving she sat in no tiny cage.

As with any creature made to fly, she grasped the space around her with precision, wherever air caressed her stroking wings.

A high ceiling. I can at least get out of this chair.

Then she would summon light.

She rose out of the frost-covered seat, leaving the ground behind her as she hovered in a perfect void which tasted of nothingness.

Was the Abyss or the Hells responsible for creating this place?

She could not tell but had only to wait, biting back a shout, a raw challenge for them to emerge and fight in plain view.

They know I am awake.

The still quiet stretched until her heart overtook it, her blood rushing through her ears in ecstatic pulses. Her aura expanded, pushing out against the freeze.

No one answered.

How long would she be alone? How long had it been already? Her fingers rubbed against each other as she attempted to recall the last being she’d known, the last deep change she’d manifested.

How long? With whom?

She strangled a sudden swell of panic. Nameless . She couldn’t see his face.

She spoke aloud. “How did I come here?”

The power in her voice sent a tremor through the icy air. A subtle echo returned, confirming her enclosure .

So dark.

“Where are you?” she demanded. “Show yourself, or I will blanch every shadow to a faded wisp!”

The sound of a door opening.

“Adri? Are you here?”

Her breath hitched. Her name? Am I she?

She was … or had been.

But only one Elf, on one world, had ever called her that.

“Indrath?” she said. “Is that you?”

“Adri!”

His voice echoed. A magical light bloomed in the distance, illuminating an impossible set of stairs. No handholds, no structure but a long, sheer stone pier above a sea of blackness, only wide enough for one body at a time. Should they lose their balance, they would fall into nothingness.

Indrath was coming, but he couldn’t see her. His head turned, gaze drifting past her; his arms stretched out as he descended with the torch leading the way.

“Indrath, stop!” she cried. “Hold still, I will fly to you.”

He obeyed, vibrant relief on his lovely face. “Adri… You’re alive.”

She glided toward him, wings out while stirring no breeze. She would risk no stroke that could upend him.

He wore an elegant warrior’s outfit with his mother’s colors of sunset red and gold, carrying her ancient sword on his hip.

His hair had grown longer, a scarlet wave twined into a loop at his nape; his eyes still familiar, the color of warm ivory.

His skin’s tone shifted between the two extremes, irregular shades drifting like a dream across his face and hands, from cream to sandstone to every earthly shade of umber before becoming quite pale.

He was pure Elf, one of the direct bloodlines of the Tilabil, ever evolving. His mother was the keeper for their language and a guardian of their oldest magic, while Adri was…

What am I? I have changed.

I am Change .

“Indrath,” she said, welcoming. “How did you find me? Is anyone else with you?”

He held still as she drifted before his torch, his lips flattening. “Who were you expecting?”

At least three.

But she couldn’t remember who. She made up for his fading smile by making hers broader. “This place is dangerous. Surely you did not come alone.”

Ivory eyes gleamed. “And if I did?”

She huffed. “Reckless as ever.”

“ Ha!” He motioned the accusation back at her with familiar grace. “ You call me thus?”

Her heart sped at the wispy memory of a challenge. This Elf had never backed down, mortal or no. He never had because he knew her too well. Better than any other.

We grew up together, once.

In a different time.

And we separated.

Yet he had not forgotten her.

I must have forgotten him…

“How did you find me?” she asked again.

Indrath looked her up and down, his face and neck darkening to a reddened tan before openly admiring the pale Sovereign’s wings. “You sent a message. Showing where you were. I followed it here.”

“Do you recognize this place?” she asked, concerned but curious.

His smile returned with cautious sincerity. “We are just underneath a mountain, Adri. No one keeps you here. I have come to lead you back out if you’ve lost your way.”

“Oh, thank Goodness,” she breathed, granting him a glorious smile. “Lead the way.”

Stunned by her face, he blinked with a quick shake of his head. A shier smile appeared, and the young Elf climbed the stairs, illuminating each step as she eagerly awaited the exit. The frigid air stayed behind her, collecting in the pit while her nose filled with signs of life and struggle.

She breathed it in. It's been so long.

Or had it? A sense niggled at her. He shouldn’t be alone. There should be many others.

The survivors, my children, and the Blessed Ones.

At least three Blessed.

A trinity.

Lush scents poured through a crevice where the stairs stopped but the rough path continued.

“Indrath?” she began, her feet gliding just above the stone. “Where?—?”

“T’will be alright, Adri.” He turned his head slightly, avoiding eye contact. “You have embraced the deepest trances before. It takes time to come back.”

The crevice was too tight to use her wings. She had to fold them in, to touch the ground and walk out with him. He hadn’t looked at her since her smile. She could admire his well-proportioned backside or watch the shadows dance on the raw stone as the torch passed by.

Then, finally, a ray of sunlight.

“Oh!”

She sped up, intending to slip around him, but he blocked her, torch arm outstretched.

“Wait,” he commanded gruffly. “Do not rush out. A Dragon has been sniffing about.”

Rage .

From a well so deep and dark, it may as well be the heart of a volcano.

“ Which Dragon?” she asked, edging a snarl.

Indrath grinned, finally meeting her eyes. “Does it matter?”

“No.” Her reply was flat as a hammered coin.

“I thought not.” He used a longer stride. “Come. The day awaits.”

She stepped out, blind underneath the sun. A waterfall was nearby, surrounded by dense foliage filled with the song of birds. Farther away, the rushing waves of the sea met the shore, the dull roar of endless rhythm.

She blinked, cheeks cooled by drifting vapor as her sight filled with colors, blue and green with pale stone and flourishing flowers.

“Is this…?” she whispered.

Indrath smiled warmly. “Welcome home.”

“Home? But…” She turned toward him, gazing up toward the peak above. “I thought it destroyed.”

“The volcano erupted, and we had to leave.” He extended his arm before the magnificent forest. “The island was not destroyed. Life returned, as you made it so.”

Has that much time passed? She stared awestruck. “We left… but you returned?”

“Periodically. As a guardian must.”

Guardian.

Scorching wrath burgeoned once again. She nearly let it out. If only it had a name.

“I don’t remember leaving,” she murmured, “voluntarily.”

Indrath fell silent, wary as she fought the fog in her mind.

“Where are the others?” she asked.

“Elsewhere and safe,” he answered, confidence pitch perfect. “I escorted them to the mainland myself.”

“Did you?”

“I promised you I would protect them, did I not?”

He did. He would .

I never promised the same… I could not.

Perhaps they remembered him but had forgotten her, their fecund mother.

The Tilabil’s son asked, “Will you touch the earth to walk with me?”

Her toes curled up; she wasn’t ready.

“Take my hand,” she said, offering it. “You may fly with me instead.”

Indrath peered at it, seeming skeptical before smirking. “I will walk, thank you. Pace me or move ahead, the choice is yours.”

He left the mouth of the cave, watching the sky as if for danger. If this was home, she could fly and enjoy the freedom. If this was not …

What waits out there?

And why did she doubt?

The fragrance was both familiar and new, the sounds close enough to match her vaguest memories. But where was the caress of the Ley across her skin? Where were the subtle calls of those ready to conceive, to create life never seen before?

He said they had gone elsewhere.

She only sensed him as he walked down the mountain, unhurried and without hesitation.

She drifted behind him, experiencing the day.

Sometimes his path was wide enough for her wings; the other times, she rose above him, keeping his scarlet hair in view.

Occasionally, he would vanish beneath the green, and she would wait for him to reappear.

She dared not touch the earth.

“Did the Blessed Ones rejoin the others on the mainland?” she asked, diamond-like glitters rippling across her feathered wings.

“ Ha! ” he barked, his lip curling in contempt before he regained control. “No. Fortunately. They left.”

Not true.

Anger roused once more.

“They were banished!” she retorted, the memory roaring back. “By that beast! I know you never liked my Trinity, but you would have died without them! They would never abandon our family if they had a choice!”