Ashes of Eden

Eric knew he shouldn't have allowed himself to be dragged into this idiotic arrangement. From their first meeting, he should've known better. After all, a revered Priestess who didn't shy away from a man's nudity could only be considered strange. He'd heard rumors about the Priestess being unicorn bait and sure enough Kali had that innocence set in her eyes. So maybe she wasn't utterly insane. Eric groaned as another mob approached, praising and chanting, their eyes aglow. Marveling the woman beside him. Eric couldn't blame them. In the middle of utter ruin, Kali stood beautiful, a true Godsend dressed in a white gown with golden adorns across its sleeves. Her pale hair was made into an elegant bun Eric couldn't begin to comprehend and her face was as calm and serene as a lake.

Eric knew Kali was forcing herself to smile today. This week had been heavy with loss on their part. A third of the men they'd sent to scout the area on east of Loron had been killed by Agnar soldiers. Eric didn't know a lot about planning, he knew fighting, hunting and killing, but even he knew Phaedra hadn't lost this war because of Eden's Priestess. She'd gathered quite the impressive elite, though Eric wouldn't say it out loud. If Kali hadn't gotten Mira, the Merrow Princess, on their side, Agnar would've reached Eden's capital easily by crossing river Marlen and venturing through the woodland.

"I assure you we are doing everything in our power to keep Agnar troops from leaving the forest. I myself will lay down my life to protect you, your families and all you have built here. If it is up to me," Kali carried on with fierce emotion in her voice and roaring determination in her eyes. "I will not let any Loron village be breached. I give you my word as Priestess. I ask of you, have faith in the Gods. Some of them have been forgotten, but while you might have forgotten them, they still remember you. I commune with Goddess Phyta herself and my words are hers: Remember us and we will not forsake you. For when Eden is at its lowest, six will rise. When Eden falls into darkness, justice will awaken. Despair not, for the Gods may not interfere in politics, but we usher against those who harm our sacred land and the innocent people living upon it."

It was the second time Eric heard these words. It still made his blood pump harder, faster. Kali's voice was strong, not a voice heard on high born ladies. Yet, there was no questioning Kali's golden cradle. Kali didn't hesitate, going forward, taking the hands of everyone who wanted hers.

"Kali," Eric advised in a low whisper. She heard him—giving a smooth smile over a shoulder. He sighed in annoyance, stepping towards her just in case someone tried harming her. Erebus' sight scared most, though to Eric, its weight on his back made him feel safe.

"Sometimes it is okay to smile," Kali informed him as Eric rushed her away from the populace, guiding her back to their camp. "At least for the sake of children. Is it not enough that they are living in a time of war and bloodshed?"

"It's not my job to make people happy, Priestess. It's yours." Eric surveyed the forest's edge. Their camp was near a small village—Eric couldn't be bothered to know its name—very close to Lordon's forest. Enemies could pour into their camp at any moment, especially during the night. "Did you get any word from the neighboring camps?"

"I am still waiting on Pythias' to bring news." Eric nodded looking unconcerned with how long his friend was taking to arrive. "Also, it is okay to worry about others." Eric arched a brow at her, silent. Daring Kali to venture on. She didn't, but a secretive smile played on her lips before Eric entered the tent ahead of her, making sure no one was inside. "Hemming should be done surveying Agnar's troops by now. After he returns, I am afraid I will have to send him to Taika. Her stay in Hiken worries me."

Eric couldn't help the stiffening of his shoulders. Scolding his face into a blank parchment, he unsheathed Erebus, lowering it and sitting on the ground beside it.

"Why's that?"

Kali gave him quite the glare, "I am sure you are aware of Hiken's reputation. It is famous for—"

"Hiken's famous for being a den of sin. A place for slavers, smugglers, killers, bandits—and whatever scum—to make business, drink and fuck. Yes, I'm aware of its reputation." Eric hadn't the slightest idea where he'd been born. Where his parents came from. But if he had to name the place he'd hailed from, that would be Hiken. "Taika's Magik is more than enough to keep her safe."

"Probably," Kali agreed. Eric marveled at the fact she'd ignored his rude language unlike all the nobles Eric met before, who had turned down their noses at him. He ended up breaking most of those noses, though. "But she is not the only Sorcerer. Imagine she encounters another? One on the side of Agnar and they know Taika's allegiance…"

"Calm down. You're panicking about nothing. Let's say Agnar does have a Sorcerer in their ranks. It's no match for Taika's Blood Magik. She's mastered it, been learning it since before she could talk. Right?"

Kalie wavered, "There are other types…"

"I know that." Eric's time with Pythias had been very enlightening when it came to glamour, Magik and Fae in general. Eric glanced at Erebus. He had the Fae folk to thank for it. "But Blood Magik is the oldest and purest Magik."

"Also, the most exhausting." True enough. Since many spells required the person's blood. "Oh!" Kali jumped from her perch on her cushion when a large hawk swooped into her tent.

Thank Phyta for Hemming's arrival. Kali wouldn't rest her little head until she knew Taika was well…

Eric shot awake without knowing why. Slowly, he heard what everyone seemed to be aware of. Screaming. Just outside. In a blur, he saw Nadia hop from her bed and run for their small window, hands smacking on fogged glass. Her fingers stretched across the cold glass with a sudden gasp. Eric saw something like horror flash across her eyes in her reflection and decided to shake the itchy cover off him, brushing traces of sleep away as he forced himself out of bed.

"What is it?" he asked, already walking to her side. Uncaring of what the crazy-ass girl could do. Eric was taller. He didn't need Nadia to step aside so that he could see what she was seeing. Flames were growing outside, licking their way to a house with a locked door. But that wasn't the worst-case scenario. The worst was the woman wielding a spike.

"What the…" Eric whispered when the woman drove the spike into her left eye, crying out like mad. Screaming from the people drawing nearer, screaming from the people running away, from the people rushing with a wooden bucket of water, trying to stifle the flames.

Nadia pushed past him in a hurry. In a daze, Eric let her go. Transfixed by the fire. Why did it… seem so captivating? Oh, shit. Eric's heart leaped once he saw Nadia rush outside their Inn, going for the woman stabbing herself with the pike. Shit. Shit. Eric glared at the bed above his. Where was Carter? Maybe he'd woken up first and had gone out to help? It didn't matter. Fi was with him—wherever he was. Eric rushed downstairs, with only his trousers on and his sword in hand, not sure what he was about to do. He just knew letting Nadia throw her life away for some mental breakdown wasn't an option. She might have a few screws loose, but she was stuck in Eden clueless, same as them.

"Nadia!" he yelled above the yells. They were like pig squeals before dying. Eric coughed. The air was heavily saturated by smog and ash. Feeling tears prickling his eyes, Eric wiped them away and blinked rushing after Nadia silhouette. Damn it, he thought, running so quick his muscles burned. It didn't matter, because he could see her clear as day now. Nadia was rushing full force for the bleeding woman. Eric didn't waste another breath before he threw himself forward, covering the distance between him and Nadia. "Stop!" his fingers wrapped around her elbow, tugging her back. "What do you think you're doing?"

Sweat clung to her face causing soot to stick on her forehead and chin, smudging her skin black. Eric could feel tiny sparks hit his arms and chest. They didn't burn, just an annoyance.

"Are you blind?" Nadia cried. Unlike the middle-aged woman, her cry held agonizing resentment. "That woman is mutilating herself, Eric. Let me go! We have to help her."

The first thing on Eric's mind was: no, we don't. We don't know her. But then again, he didn't know Nadia and he'd rushed out to keep her safe from the crazed coot. Eric struggled with Nadia. She was strong, no denying that. The woman was spouting nonsense now. At least it sounded like it to Eric.

"For thy Lady… for her… I spill it so… Oh, spare me, my Lady! Have mercy on me…"

"Nadia, she's insane." Eric whispered.

"No. No, she's not." Now Eric looked down at her as if she'd joined the woman. "Look! Over there. Can't you see it?" Eric glared at the spot Nadia's finger was pointing. Nothing but empty space. "It's right there—Eric!"

Shit. Eric twisted Nadia around, throwing her behind him, just in time to lunge for the woman. Eric wrestled the weakened woman with ease, feeling his skin getting rubbed on by the oozing blood. He grabbed the bloodied pike, wrenching it out of her hand. Eric got time to stare at the woman, breathing hard. Her left eye was smooshed to a pulp, sunken in. She'd pounded hollow holes into her chest and thighs. A shiver crawled along Eric's nape. He didn't feel disgusted from seeing the disfigured person up-close. No, it was something beyond human repulsion. His insides froze and he knew the sensation—it was the same from this afternoon. When that cold wind came…

The wriggling woman tried kicking him off. Eric pressed her shoulders down, eyes wandering around, seeing nothing. He stopped, eyes backtracking to a place between two houses, a darkened alley. He could've sworn he'd seen something. Someone. Nothing but darkness stared back at him. Eric choked. Forced to release the woman. He fell on his side, grabbing at his throat as biting wind wrapped around his neck, squeezing the oxygen and life out of him.

"You idiot," someone screamed behind him. "I told you!"

Bare feet came into view as it went spotty. He saw the tip of his sword swing around, beating at thin air.

"Go away, damn it! Leave." Nadia? He thought feeling his skin bruise. Eric felt ice break into his mind. Like something was trying to push inside him. Inside… his body. "Fi?"

With a sudden burst of light, the presence keeping Eric in a chokehold, trying to force itself inside, retreated. With another burst it slithered further away, letting Eric to breathe longingly.

"Eric!" Eric forced himself to lift his head, trying to show Carter he was alright. Well, he was alive. "Jesus, Eric." Eric didn't know exactly how long Carter took, but it all felt quick. Soon, Eric was being cradled against his older brother, soaking in his warmth. "Little brother, are you with me?"

"I… I'm with you." Eric slurred with a bruised throat.

Carter's hands smoothed Eric's hair. Like petting Eric's hair would make what just happened vanish from their memories. Deep down, Eric knew his brother was reassuring himself that he was safe, that Carter wasn't going to lose him.

"No!" Nadia's horrified yell rang into the night along with multiple others.

Eric knew why. He only needed to twist in Carter's embrace to see the woman he'd tried to stop from mutilating herself had taken the pike back and stabbed herself in the chest. More than once. Now, though, she finally laid unmoving. A broken heap of blood and guts. No bile raced from his stomach to his throat. Briefly, Eric wondered if something was seriously wrong with him. Then again, he'd never been the squeamish type.

Screams still came from the opposite site of where they were. The fire, Eric remembered, watching tendrils of smoke curl in the air, behind his brother.

"Carter…" Eric managed above a whisper. "The fire. Help them."

Carter glanced over a shoulder, as if only now realizing the scene unfolding behind them. His older brother looked lost for a split second, before he called for Nadia, breaking through her stupor.

"Stay here with Eric. Are you listening? Don't leave him. Stay together. Okay?"

"Y-yes." Nadia bit out, voice hoarse. Eric didn't want to lie pathetically on the ground, but all he could do was prop himself inches off it.

Carter raced behind them, through dark smoke and curdling yells, unwavering.

"I tried… I told you." Eric lifted bloodshot eyes to Nadia's pale, dirty face. "I told you it was there—beside the woman. Why couldn't you see it?"

Eric's eyes were fixated on hers. Because for the first time, they weren't hostile, they were glinting with a hint of fear and Eric knew Nadia could see the same fear on his icy-eyes. What had choked him? Eric couldn't bring himself to ask. Plus, he didn't think Nadia would answer.

***

Eric was lying on his bed. Nadia half helped, half trailed beside him when Carter shouted for them to go back inside the Inn. Eric hadn't even tried to argue. His throat was sore. His skin was hot, he could feel sweat gathering at his hairline, on his back and in places where the sun didn't shine. Eric turned left for the millionth time. He felt restless. His brain was telling him to take deep breaths, but it felt like he could never catch his breath and his heart was beating erratically.

Nadia looked over from the window. Shadows brushed the skin below her nose, the ongoing flames from outside highlighted her silver gaze. Eric saw the earlier horror had gone down volumes. Eric breathed greedily again, wheezing halfway through it, shutting his eyes. The steps across the wood were light, barely audible. Practiced, Eric thought way in the back of his mind. Something cool touched on his throat, causing blue eyes to shot open.

"Afraid I'll slit your throat?" Nadia asked, smiling. But it was a hollow smile. Eric hadn't even noticed, but his body arched away from her hand. "Stay still," she ordered in a more present voice, as if his state was doing a good job at distracting her from the madness outside. She placed her palm on Eric's forehead—recoiling. "Holy shit… You're burning up."

A smartass comment bubbled up in Eric. He let it go when opening his mouth sent a flare of pain across his lower jaw. Nadia brushed her fingers on his neck and, this time, he pulled away voluntarily. She stared down at him—at his neck—with horrid fascination.

"That thing… did this. They look like fingermarks," she whispered. Thankfully, Nadia didn't touch his neck again, because it hurt like a bitch and telling her off would hurt like a bitch multiplied by a hundred.

It was sudden. So sudden, Eric bit his tongue and tasted blood. Nadia said something, but his surroundings and her face were already swimming, though. He couldn't get anything to stay in one place. His body was shaking. It felt like… he was hitting the bed. Like he was jumping up and down. Was it… was this what a seizure felt like? Eric vaguely remembered yelling. Pressure on him. On his chest? On his shoulders?

Pain came. Pain went. It was violent. It would soften into slight tremors. But his skin, his insides, were always burning. Like he'd been dipped inside a lava bath.

"You always were a stupid boy," a voice rang out in the darkness. It acted like an open door. Because they didn't stop pouring in. Echoing in a never cease fire.

"A deal?" someone laughed. A woman? "How could you possibly make a deal with me? You have nothing to offer me."

Bits and pieces. Jumping from voice to voice. Conversations? Almost nothing fit together. Was he delusional?

"Come on. You were the one who said you wanted adventure." That voice sounded… familiar. Was it his? He felt so hot.

"I'll have to teach you the meaning of a strategic retreat, my friend."

"I'm no coward." He barked defensively.

"Perhaps you are stupid then?" an amused voice said. Eric thought he heard a giggle. Something made him shake violently and he lost whatever came next.

"Are you saying you've never had anyone? You're a soldier."

"Not really. I'm paid for my services to the crown. Heavily. I'm a…"

"I know what you are." This time Eric saw a quick snippet of color. Images. Eyes? Dark eyes glinting by a lit fire. "But whatever you are, you're still a man. All men have needs. If your desires are of the female variety or male—"

"I like women."

That was the end of that. The longest conversation he'd managed to make some sense of. Even if he didn't understand shit about it, what it meant, or why he'd heard it. Eric didn't know how long it took, a minute, an hour or a day. More. His skin stopped feeling like brimstone and suddenly he felt breath coming a little easier, his chest and throat lighter.

Crash!

"Eric!"

Eric jumped out of his skin. He looked down at the shattered glass, then his young eyes fidgeted down the hall. Dad was going to kill him. What if he sent him to a boarding school? He'd been saying that a lot lately. Eric heard his father's heavy steps, coming down from his office. He needed a place to hide the broomstick. His heart kicked into his throat when someone walked into the living room.

"Aw, geez. Eric." Carter rubbed his head, mussing his hair back. He'd been outside playing baseball. "Give me that," Carter whispered, pointing at the stick. Thinking fast, Eric sent the broomstick rolling across the polished floor. His big brother crouched, grabbing it and stashing it quickly under the couch.

"Eric! Again, with the broken windows? I thought I told you already…"

Carter got up with a sheepish grin, "Dad," Surprised, their father whirled on Carter. "Sorry. I was practicing my swings… and the bat kinda got away from me."

Their father rubbed a hand down his face, muttering something about how his sons were a pair of butterfingers. His face wasn't as angry, though. Eric saw it. It wasn't the first time his older brother covered for him. Their father was almost never angry at Carter. Eric glared down at the floor, feeling the strange need to come out and own his mistake. He even got as far as opening his mouth, until he caught Carter's light head shake.

"Do… do you want help cleaning it up?" Eric mumbled instead, wanting to run to his brother's side, so he wouldn't stand so close to their father.

"Yeah, come on." Carter crossed the space separating them. Carter thought he didn't see—but he did. Before Carter drew an arm around Eric's shoulders, his brother delivered a heavy glare to their father's head. "Eric," he said gently when they walked into the big kitchen with expensive wall panels. "You've got to practice outside, okay?"

"But you were outback…"

Carter gave a hurt look, "What? You're too cool to be seen with me in our backyard?"

"No," Carter tilted his head waiting. Eric struggled with the words. When he was embarrassed, it was like he forgot what letters went where. It only made him more frustrated. Carter flickered his nose. Eric slapped his hand, narrowing his eyes. Eric's sullen expression left him with a long breath, "No. I… I didn't want to get in your way."

His brother frowned.

"You never get in my way, Eric. Why would you even think that?"

"I get in Dad's way. Right?" Eric whispered softly. "He's angry when I'm around."

Carter's towering height went away when his brother crouched.

"You don't get in his way, Eric. Dad he's… He's just sad. He's been sad for a long time, but there's nothing me or you can do."

"It's my fault."

"No," Carter said quietly, firmly. "It's not because of anyone. What happened was an accident. A very sad accident. But it was no one's fault. Especially not yours. Sometimes bad things and good things happen at the same time. That's what happened, Eric. Mom… What happened with her was bad. But you're here and that's great, because I wouldn't want a life without you."

Eric cast his eyes down. Carter clicked his tongue before giving him a good hair ruffle. Eric felt his face burn. It wasn't embarrassment. It was something else. Whatever it was, it made him shot forward, wrapping his arms around Carter's neck. Almost knocking him on his ass.