Page 46 of Prince of Blaze and Embers (Emberveil Empire #1)

T he descent to the sanctuary was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the flap of the dragons' wings and the distant thunder that rumbled like the growling of a primordial beast. As we landed, the ground crunched under the mighty paws of the dragons, and the ancient structure of the sanctuary loomed before us, its ancient stones a somber and foreboding sight.

Cade, his face etched with deep worry, carried me in his arms as we entered the sanctuary.

I could feel the warmth of his body against mine, but the pain in my side was overwhelming, each step he took sent a fresh wave of agony coursing through me.

He laid me down gently in the throne of thorns, the vines creeping around, creating a nest of knots and red flowers, their scent a faint reminder of a forgotten spring.

Blood poured down my side, soaking the throne.

Bella knelt beside me, her glacier-blue eyes filled with tears as she clutched my hand tightly. "Ash, you're going to be okay," she whispered, her voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.

Cade, his heart pounding audibly, tore a strip of cloth from his own tunic, pressing it firmly against the wound in my side.

The blood soaked through almost instantly, and I could see the desperation in his eyes, the fear that he might lose me.

"Come on, Ash. Stay with me," he urged, his voice thick with emotion.

I tried to offer a reassuring smile, but the pain was too much.

"It's all right," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

"If I die, at least I got to live free for a little bit.

I got to ride on a dragon's back... I even got my own dragon.

" My voice faded as a new surge of pain washed over me.

Wetness flooded my vision as I realized I was dying.

"Stop talking like that," Cade commanded, his voice firm but filled with anguish. "You're not going to die. I won't let you."

Hunter stood nearby, his brow furrowed with concern, his hand resting on Cade's shoulder in a silent show of support. The dragons moaned sadly, their low, mournful cries echoing through the sanctuary, a chorus of grief that seemed to envelop us all.

As the seconds ticked by, I felt the life ebbing from my body, the pain a constant, pulsing ache that threatened to drag me into the darkness.

Cade continued to press the cloth against my wound, his hands trembling with the effort, but I could see the despair in his eyes, the realization that there was nothing he could do to stop the bleeding.

"It's all right Cade, it's all right Bella.

.. at least I got the queen. I got her! She can bleed just like the rest of us!

" I coughed, and blood spattered down my chin.

The pain made my side feel like fire erupted, splintering hot nails into the deep muscle and bone.

"You can do the rest without me. But Cade.

.. I'll miss you. I'll miss what we could've had, but I'm grateful for what we did. "

"Stop talking like that, Ash," Cade's head finally collapsed into my lap, him heaving with deep sobs. "I can't do this without you. I can't..."

"I wish Rosa was here," Bella muttered, her voice thick with desperation, wiping her own tears onto her sleeve as she crouched beside me, her hand on my thigh. "She'd know what to do..."

Just as she spoke, an eerie wind swept through the sanctuary, a gust from a distant, ethereal place.

It carried a chill that seemed to seep into my very bones, making me shiver despite the heat radiating from my wound.

The wind carried the scent of ancient forests and forgotten dreams, and it felt like the world itself was whispering secrets.

A figure appeared in the doorway to the throne room, their form draped in ragged clothes.

The hood was pulled low over their head, and the cloak they wore was burned at the edges, as if they had walked through the fires of the Infernal Depths themselves.

The face beneath the hood was gaunt, the skin etched with more wrinkles than cracks on a mountain.

Scraggly gray hairs hung out from under the hood, and a long beard flowed down to their belt, a testament to the countless years they had walked the earth.

Hunter and Cade drew their swords instantly, their eyes narrowing as they prepared to defend us against this new threat.

But Cade's expression changed quickly, his sword lowering as realization dawned on his face.

"It's him," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of relief and reverence. "It's Myrathyn."

Bella stood protectively between the mystic and me, her fists balled up, ready to fight if necessary. But Cade placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, urging her to step aside. "Let him approach," he said, his voice steady despite the anxiety that gripped us all.

Myrathyn walked slowly toward me, his steps measured and deliberate.

He knelt down beside me, the scent of warm spring sunshine and dew filling the air around him.

He took my hand in his, his touch gentle but firm, and kissed my fingers .

His lips were dry like tree bark, and scratched my skin.

I opened my eyes to the feeling of bursting light and flower petals inside me, a sensation that was both breathtaking and overwhelming.

It was as if the very essence of spring had exploded within me, filling me with a warmth and vitality that seemed to radiate from every pore.

The pain in my side vanished, replaced by a tingling sensation that spread throughout my body, healing and rejuvenating me.

I sat up, my heart pounding as I looked around in amazement. The wound on my side was gone, sealed and healed as if it had never been there. I felt a surge of strength and energy, a renewed sense of purpose and determination.

Myrathyn stepped back, his eyes filled with a knowing wisdom that seemed to reach into the depths of my soul. I quickly realized I was sitting in his throne, the vines and thorns intertwined in a pattern that seemed to reflect the very essence of the ancient sanctuary.

I jolted out of the throne, my eyes widening as I took in the sight of the mystic. "You... you saved me! Thank you, thank you!" I stammered, my voice filled with awe and reverence.

I stepped back in awe of the mystic as he groaned, slowly taking his rightful throne.

He slumped, seeming as old as time itself.

His beard folded onto his legs and his dim eyes gazed down and to the side.

It almost appeared he was going to return to his long slumber.

The throne itself was carved from the root system of a long-dead tree, its gnarled wood fused with stone and crystal, pulsing faintly with green light that throbbed in time with his breath.

Vines shimmered with dew despite the absence of rain, and bioluminescent fungi clung to the walls of the sanctuary, casting a soft, ghostly glow.

The air hummed with something ancient—older than language, older than fire—a kind of quiet knowing.

As he finally lifted his gaze to meet ours, the temperature in the room dropped, and runes hidden in the stone walls flared to life, tracing the edges of the chamber in slow-burning lines of silver.

Time seemed to bend inward, folding around this moment.

The others approached the old mystic cautiously. They muttered that they couldn't let him fall back asleep. They needed to wake him somehow. While they we all three distracted, I felt a familiar, and welcome presence behind me.

Cornelius half-appeared behind me, his voice filled with urgency.

"Ash, listen to me. The mystic is a Druidaan.

It's a race of men that are gifted with ancient magic.

This one is in its final stage of life. Some call them prophets or sages, but they're known for their rarity and their ability to see truth—past or present.

You can ask the Druidaan one question, and he will give you the truest answer.

Be very specific about the question you ask, and think carefully about what you ask.

You must place your hand on his, and he will cover your hand with his other.

Then you ask the question in your mind, and he will answer back. "

Cornelius disappeared, leaving me with a sense of urgency and importance.

I turned to the others, my voice filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

"He's called a Druidaan. Each of us can ask the mystic one question.

He will give you the truest answer. But be careful and specific about what you ask. "

The sanctuary fell into a hushed silence as each of us thought deeply about the questions we desired to ask.

Bella was the first to step forward, her glacier-blue eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope. "I think I know mine..."

"Go ahead," I said .

She placed her hand on the mystic's, and he covered it with his other hand, his gaze steady and unyielding.

Bella closed her eyes, her lips moving silently as she asked her question.

Tears welled in her eyes as she received her answer, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

She stepped back, her face pale but filled with a newfound determination.

She came beside me and I put my hand on her back as she sobbed.

"I'm ready," Hunter said, his voice courageous. With a deep breath he approached the mystic sitting in his old throne overtaken by time .

He went next, his expression stoic and unreadable.

He placed his hand on the mystic's, his gaze locked onto the ancient figure before him.

After receiving his answer, Hunter's face went white as a ghost, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

He stepped back, his hand trembling slightly as he tried to process the revelation.

He stood at Cade's side, but then dropped to his butt with his legs crossed, still stuck in shock of whatever answer he received.