Whispering Ashes
her hands bound by thin copper chains, walked barefoot behind the imperial tribune's carriage. Each step on the parched earth s
em: two men, an elderly woman, a child, and Asha. No one spoke.
ns to wastelands, and further ahead, the sound of a great obsidian struc
rtress?" the bo
the back of his spear, s
't ask. The
is low groan. He wasn't her brother, but
assed through the g
structure: they were real. Ancient Keepers, defeated enemies, traitors, and forgotten prophets.
the Marks awaited. Slavery began not with sh
gray cloak, faceless, and carried an ir
," he
he Keeper answered
y place. Here, it will be
e mark glowed orange. Asha swallowed. No one prepared her f
ne
nded her left arm w
hiss that wasn't just that of burning flesh, butot from the pain. I
ield in flames. People running. A winged figure
retreated, she
aked man asked, his eyes
the ot
ot lie. You have
ymbol that now marked her skin: three intertwined lines, like b
s a slave
he oldest sites in the Empire. Her role: to guard the ash corridors, clea
was brutal on the spirit. Every day, she was required to recite a thou
er is to serve," said the Temple Matriarch
. But she d
she saw it weeping ash. Other times, it seemed to call her name
south corridor, the stone beneath her fee
ire. A Keeper dragging a spear made of ancient words.
hispered, not
remained paralyzed. Not out of
had ch
gments of ancient memory were stored, captured in black rocks suspended over glowing emb
sha l
herself, centuries before, rising up against her masters. She saw flam
ash creep i
others," said a voi
was
t symbols. His face was young, but his eyes were ancient. A scar crosse
asked. Without speak
mory... still
disap
t, she di
inside her were awakening. She knew then that her slavery w
ice. Her eyes. The whisper before
e unde
consume bodies. They consumed history. Me
begun to s
f ashes, was not wil