XXIX

  Corpse Tree

  After the war council, I was quick to return to my room.

  I leaned out the window and enjoyed a breeze. Eve was on the way, which the lanterns gave no sign of.

  ‘A war, huh.’

  Mother had prepared me for the possibility, of course, given our history with the Emberweavers.

  But to think I’d be in the middle of a conflict outside of that…

  The breeze increased in fervour and slapped my cheeks. I sighed, shut the window, then trod towards the centre of the room and sank into the lotus.

  Ashenkeeper - lvl. 10 -> Ashenkeeper - lvl. 13.

  9 free stat points gained.

  Vitality: 11

  Strength: 13 (28)

  Dexterity: 12

  Fortitude: 18

  Perception: 10

  Arcane: 26

  Free Points: 0

  The Everroot was cycling my essence even now, expanding the base of my power.

  ‘I’ll reach level 14 either before or right after the test starts.’

  That’d put me close to level sixteen and the next stage, Middle Novice.

  My glance went to my skill list.

  Core Skills: [Keeper's Prerogative (Common)]

  I’d covertly asked Decim about me not gaining a list of skill options upon advancing. He assured me that some classes didn’t gain skills in the regular manner. The issue was that such classes were hit or miss; you were either doomed for failure or your class was overpowered.

  ‘Guess I’ve gotten pretty luck until now?’

  The system ‘recognising’ a skill could mean I was capable of unlocking abilities as long as I cultivated them myself. Should that be the case, I may not be limited to just three.

  ‘Thumbs crossed.’

  I turned to my shard. Reaching Middle Novice should give me enough energy to summon two flametalons—not that I had that many. A glimpse into the garden showed the two cinderwing harpies roaming the skies. They cawed at my arrival. Chicks chirped and circled overhead, fighting over who got to make their nest on my dome.

  I smiled—

  Saber roared and the chicks scattered.

  My brow raised. “You’re quite grumpy lately, aren’t you?”

  The feline lowered his head onto his paws and continued lounging in his tree. As he did, he glared at his neighbour, his fiery eyes burning through the foliage to find the flametalon perched on a branch.

  ‘Really, what’s going on with him?’

  I strode over and placed my palm on the trunk of his tree. Energy shot up from the roots and through the rest of the tree.

  The Dawnflames had given me two fire-attuned cores—one rare, one uncommon. Feeding Saber the rare core had given me hope, but I still couldn’t produce another egg for a cub.

  ‘Perhaps his tree is different from the cinderwing?’

  That, or my understanding was lacking. The good news was that the core was enough to bring him close to the next stage.

  I waltzed east. At that very corner of the cleared ground, a short but stocky trunk pierced the earth.

  [Balekin Tree]

  The mound beside it had already shrunk to barely a pile. A chill wind rustled my hair and entered my ears. There was the faintest hint of a flute…and a bestial cry.

  Was it the drake who was screaming? The garden absorbed the souls of those it chained but no creature had ever made it’s presence known. Not even the herald.

  But the drakes were more sentient than anything I’d absorbed.

  ‘Did you enjoy it?’

  Phantom rain pattered against the ground. My palms grew sticky. Behind me loomed the shadowless cindertree, embers trailing from its leaves to fill the sky like a thousand fireflies. The winds scattered them with an angry slap.

  My gaze went down. How many would I need to kill to make it through the Tomb?

  How many would I consume?

  I stood for a while, then searched for a more lighthearted subject and settled on my titles.

  Titles: [Flame Rebirth, Dragon’s Dogma I, Dragon’s Dogma II]

  Questioning the name ‘Dragon’s Dogma’ hadn’t occurred to me. Not even after witnessing the creature hovering over the shoulder of the woman in the mural. But now I had a growing tree which absorbed drakes.

  “Will I soon soar through the sky on the back of a dragon?” I chuckled.

  The mirth didn’t reach my eyes.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  One of the chicks pecked my forehead. From the topmost branch of the cinderwing tree came a cry.

  This time, my smile was genuine. “Yes, yes, I look forward to flying you as well.”

  I exited the garden. A glance at the realm counter told me it was a few hours past noon, which drew a yawn out of me. The Clans were holding a gala—a final celebration before we descended tomorrow morning. It’s where I’d meet my teammates. But it was a few hours away, so I had the time for a nap.

  Training was more important, though.

  ‘I need to get used to my new strength.’

  Extra stats were a boon, but gaining them too quickly would offset your balance.

  So, I pulled Red Fang from my storage bracelet, settled into a combat stance, and cycled my essence.

  Whatever happened tomorrow, I’d be ready.

  Heels clanged over aeons old stone which had laid untouched for centuries.

  The girl threw a look over her shoulders. Shadows. Utter darkness that crept up the halls and swallowed all. So absolute was the blackness that not even the outline of anything remained beyond the light pouring from a stone in her hands.

  She stopped breathing and listened. The darkness rung in her ears, whose sensitivity the shadows sharpened.

  A brush past her face, a smidgen of air displacing.

  Now her heels slammed the floor. She ran around a bend. Down a corridor, across an intersection, then up a staircase.

  Only to be met with a hallway similar to the one she’d left behind.

  A grimace bloomed on her face. There was no escaping this place. But it was about time for the new batch. That was her chance—

  Boots shuffled over stone.

  Her head didn’t whip towards the noise.

  Heavy, ragged breaths cycled the essence inside her. Walls rushed past. Faces flicked through her mind. Of those she’d sacrificed. Of those she’d lost. All of them spun as she crashed to the floor and rolled to a stop. She barely registered the pain before she rushed back to her feet.

  ‘I just need to find a shrine.’

  The guardians couldn’t enter those.

  But her legs remained in place when she tried to burst into a run.

  Finally, she whirled around…and found a length of wood had wrapped around her ankle. The branch traced back into the darkness beyond, where a band of fire hovered like a halo.

  “No, please!” she screamed.

  Blasts of light fired from her palms and flew past the gate, revealing the silhouette of a girl.

  The girl’s head turned to follow the disciple vanishing into the gate. On the other side, a tree loomed, its grey bark so smooth it could brush an infant to sleep, the embers trailing through the air around it so bright and numerous they were like stars. Low-hanging branches almost touched the ground and twirled back and forth in a dance. Blood seeped down their length and wet the earth. Hanging suspended from the thick arms of the tree were bodies upon bodies. Those that weren’t yet dead cried. But the closing of the portal cut off their wails.

  Darkness and silence once more swallowed the tunnels. Then the girl was off in search of her next target.

  I woke with wet eyes and a sore throat. Sweat dripped down the small of my back into my undergarments. For some moments, I laid staring at the ceiling. Only now did I notice the sunflower patterns on the roof. The artwork shifted ever so minutely, making the flowers look like they swirled through a soft plane of grass.

  My sight turned to the realm timer. There was an hour until the gala.

  Red Fang was lying beside my bed, barely a drop of sweat staining its sheathe.

  I heaved myself out of bed and stepped into the shower. The pattering, hot water drained my thoughts, washed away the negative energy clinging to my skin, softened the burn around my throat.

  I heaved when I stepped from the shower into my bedroom.

  ‘Are you a child to have nightmares like this?’

  But though I belittled the dream, the cramp in my stomach didn’t lie. The number of corpses hanging from the cindertree…Duke had been among them. So had Judith and Ray. The latter was a relief as it proved the nightmare was just that. Yet the unease it stirred up didn’t leave.

  For a moment, I was back on the mountainside. Blood dripping from my harpy’s talons as she had the dead leopard in a vice grip. I could see the moment the realisation set within its master’s eyes. That the creature he’d bonded his spirit to and raised was no more.

  ‘It must be like losing a child.’

  My summons were not linked to me in the same way as that of a spirit beast and its master. Even if they were, their death wasn’t permanent, so it was a hurt I’d never understand.

  But their cries haunted me all the same.

  ‘Your first human will change that.’

  I let go of the air building in my chest. Was the nightmare a premonition or a warning? The Tomb would be many times deadlier than the First Trial. Who was next? Judith? Duke? I didn’t know them well yet I considered them more than just acquaintances. Would they become like Ray? Ghosts of the past that could’ve been more to me but never were.

  …

  A million more questions replayed in my head as I reached for my storage bracelet. The first thing I removed was a golden gorget with a single crimson jewel encrusted in the centre. Following it were a set of golden bracers marked with flames. Finally came out the dress. White, the linings marked with gold. The one-shoulder pieces gave the impression of layered fabric and left my shoulders and upper arms clearly visible. Going down, it wrapped tight around the body. I’d judged it to be not quite my style, but there was more movement allowed in the lower half than I thought as the material of the dress was quite giving.

  I twirled around in front of the standing mirror beside the entrance to the shower. My storage ring contained earrings that were a part of the ensemble. A glance at my own, which were in the design of a root curling in on itself.

  They were out of place, frankly put. But I wasn’t replacing the heirlooms of my father.

  When I was done preparing, it was time for the gala.

  Duke was leaning on the wall outside my room. The red hems of his robe fluttered as my door opened, the fabric akin to silk. Gold strings wove through the robe and added a subtle touch to the simple white centre of the dress. A vermilion belt in the form of a bird kept it all in place. Despite the airy nature of his attire, the shadow of his toned physique poked through.

  His mouth opened and froze as he took me in.

  A moment passed before he coughed in his hand. “I knew it would look good on you.”

  “Thank you. You don’t look half bad yourself.”

  He gave a sly smile. “Let us make our way upstairs.”

  Unlike before, the upper floor was bustling. Disciples and servants alike made their way to the end of the hall. Many of them snuck a glance our way. Some stared more openly.

  “This is good,” Duke whispered. “Your entrance will have the impact we desire.”

  “I’m still not convinced I need to have an ‘impact.’”

  He waved me off. “An attitude you’ll soon do away with. I suspect Kayle will be wearing more jewellery than our combined bodyweight.”

  I only hummed.

  Kayle was the girl holding the umbrella during Lord Tesoro’s explanation of the Tomb. She, Raven, and Duke made up the trifecta of the Dawnflames. All three of them were niece or nephew of the Vermilion Dawn with Duke being the most favoured out of the three. But Duke wanted no part of their petty politics.

  The boy in question waved at a girl we passed by, who squealed in response and hid her face in her hands.

  We stepped out onto a staircase with few windows. Candelabras fastened to the walls lit the way, and the shadows hiding within the gaps of light reached out to latch onto Duke’s face.

  They didn’t stick to his mien.

  Duke was always smiling. In fact, I couldn’t recall a time I’d seen him not smiling. But did that mean he was happy?

  The ionised tickle of the stormy winds rippled over my skin. The smell of burnt and rotting meat invaded my nostrils. But most of all, I recalled asking myself why a boy like him would follow me despite not believing I could kill the herald. I had shaken the question from my head at the time, but could it be that Duke truly didn’t care whether he died?

  I could write it all off as a playboy’s fancy for his new prospect. But Duke had yet to make a single move on me. Better yet, he’d only been helpful.

  A glance around. We were halfway up the staircase. And though the stairwell wasn’t any more isolated than the hallway, there was enough noise to mask a conversation.

  My stomach dropped as my mouth opened but I pushed through.

  “Duke,” I said.

  The boy turned to me, a quaint light in those light blue orbs of his. “Yes?”

  “Are you—”

  “I had my doubts about whether you’d show up.”

  My head went to side where a boy in an all-white suit waited, a cane in his hands adorned in curling flame motifs. A black shawl completed Raven’s ensemble.

  “Me?” Duke cried. “Not show up to the gala? You don’t know me as well as I thought.”

  Raven chuckled. “Is that so?”

  He took position to my left, which put me square between the two boys. His gaze rested on me for a moment, then he tipped his hat.

  I curtsied.

  “You were asking something?” Duke regarded me.

  I paused for a moment. There was another drop in my stomach. This time, I didn’t power through.

  “It was of no importance,” I said and continued walking.

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