A Kiss of Ashen Twilight (Ashen Twilight Series #1) (2 page)

His father’s voice trailed behind him, calling him. Time was running out for him to stop and discuss their plans.

Although he only lived forty-two years—nineteen of which he spent as a Nightwalker—Jace still held the appearance of a man of twenty-five years. Jace knew the vagaries of being hunted simply because of what he was. He saw the torture devices left within the beautiful, peaceful lands of the Highlands where ‘others’ like him were caught, torn apart, then put on display to any other immortals that walked the lands. The mortals did the same to their own suspected of being immortals. If it wasn’t for Daoine, they wouldn’t have known this injustice. Now that they had finally arrived, it was time to put an end to all the torture and deaths.

Instinct told Jace to jump. The powers that he obtained were many and despite the past two decades, he still hadn’t gotten to know all that he was capable of. He took a breath and leaped into the air. The wind flapped against his belted plaids, armor and thin trews. He didn’t wait for his uncle and father to catch up before he disappeared into the castle. He made sure to keep out of sight from the bloodshed within. With their arrival, both sides would wonder about their purpose on their grounds. He followed the side of the large castle to keep out of sight. A particular scent, copper and rotted meat, suddenly filled the air. He couldn’t quite decipher what but something told him to follow.

The long brick castle stretched out through corridors and small rooms situated on the sides. Jace made sure to duck behind a wall just in case he heard oncoming footsteps. Across the back courtyard he spotted a high watchtower where the scent grew stronger. He stepped into the open area, stopping once he heard the clash of swords behind him. His father and uncle’s grunts and yells filled the air amidst the sound of metal upon metal.

“Jace!” His father’s coarse, deep voice filtered through the air.

He battled within himself to turn and join them but a shadowy figure flew by the watchtower window, catching his eye. Silently he promised himself he’d return and aid his family. Now the small opportunity to stop this massacre was open—but not for long.

Jace dashed for the towers, using his powers to move like the wind. Mortals would see him as only a blurred image dashing by, if they caught sight of him. It was a good ability considering the soldiers closing in on them. His body reacted to the scent of their blood, desiring to taste the sweet liquid upon his tongue. Too bad it would have to wait for later.

He ran up the flight of stairs toward the top, his sword at his side waiting to find the monster so he could run his sword through his heart. The smell of decaying skin grew stronger with each step. He reached the area as the faint sound of wheezing covered the air.

Jace stepped into the open room at the top of the tower. A fireplace crackled on the side, warming his cold skin. Bright, shiny furniture decorated the room along with an elaborate imported carpet laid out before him. There in the middle of the floor was a man; his neck was severed with a trail of blood streaming onto the small stone fountain with a goblet perched on the opposite side in front of an empty chair. He struggled to breathe as he tried to lift his head upward toward Jace. The man’s pale skin was nearly white like the high glow of the moon at midnight. His open mouth revealed a set of sharp fangs.

Jace couldn’t breathe from the strong stench and the sight that nearly broke him.

“Kill me.” The man’s jagged words sent chills right down to Jace’s bones. “Please.”

The words were familiar to Jace, like the distinct Romanian dialect that was one of Daoine’s many languages. Although his tongue was unclear to him, the man’s sorrowful gaze was all too clear.

Jace gripped his sword between both of his hands, raising it over head.

“Thank you.”

The sword cut through the air and into the bleeding Nightwalker in seconds. Jace shut his eyes from the horror although death clung to the room like fog in the night. The scent of evil was unmistakable yet distant in the air. The prince was gone. Judging from the empty chair in front of the goblet, he was preparing for another test of trying to obtain immortality from one of his prisoners. Where he fled, Jace didn’t know. He hoped the Nightwalkers coming as reinforcements would stop him outside the grounds. He opened his eyes and looked to the empty golden goblet still perched atop the fountain. With a roar escaping his lips, he swung the sword and knocked the metal over with a loud clank. Tiny drops of blood stained the carpet. Nightwalker blood. What kind of monster would destroy their kind just to feed his own thirst to live forever? The same that would hunt them down for being different, stronger, better than mere mortals. He hoped this reign of terror would end. Too much blood had been spilt in the name of power. It was then Jace realized the importance in the choice he had made to become a Nightwalker. Daoine was right. They had to look out for each other now if they were to survive.

A sharp pain shot through his body like shockwaves of electricity, crippling him to his knees. The world seemed to turn upside down. Nausea threatened to consume his body. If it still produced bile, he was sure it would be creeping up into his throat this moment. Something felt wrong. Jace forced himself to stand and turn toward the stairs. As he flew down, his mind raced to figure out what was going on. Once he made it to the court, his worst fears were realized as his father lay on the ground in his uncle’s arms. His neatly wrapped plaids were ripped and bloodied from the oozing stab wound through his heart where his uncle tried to apply pressure against.

The sword slowly fell from Jace’s hand, crashing against the ground. He couldn’t believe his sight. His body grew numb, and he couldn’t move his legs. He saw his uncle’s mouth move, but it was as if someone turned the sound off in his mind. Nothing remained in his thoughts as he tried to comprehend what was happening before his eyes. He saw the tears flowing from his uncle’s strained, angry eyes. He saw the rush of blood—so much blood—
that covered his father’s chest from a deep wound in the heart. A wound that a sword’s blade had made. The gush of blood already filled his mouth from his lungs before seeping from his lips. It was one of the few weaknesses of Nightwalkers, a fatal wound straight through the heart, killing the life source.

Jace cursed himself for leaving.
He should have stayed and covered his father instead of running after that cursed prince who was already gone. Despite the movement, he couldn’t hear anything except his father’s breath, slowly dying to stillness.

Jace fell to his knees and finally let out an ear piercing cry into the azure blue sky.

* * * *

Everyone was put in this world for a reason. Nothing is a coincidence.

Her father’s voice echoed in her head like a soft breeze. A distant reminder.

Ariya repositioned herself on the tree’s branch and watched the hunters on the ground skulk near their prey. The unassuming gazelle, tall and beautiful with a coat that glistened under the afternoon sun, munched calmly on the bright green grass, unaware of the predators surrounding him.

Summer was coming. Ariya could tell from the changing trees, turning from red and gold hues to deep green. The air grew calmer and warmer after the season of end.

She could tell wonderful things were on the horizon in the coming days.

“
Ariya!
”

She turned to the adjacent branch and saw the evil stare her sister Shya gave her. Focus, her full lips mouthed.

“
Stop sleeping on the job
”.

Ariya quietly cleared her throat and opened her mind to their telepathic connection. “
I was relaxing my mind to prepare for the job.
”

“
Yeah, I can sense that. Please keep alert or else Father will give us both a tongue lashing.
”

The hunters raised their silver shields and metal tipped arrows, preparing to attack. She never liked watching this part despite knowing the transition would be a calm one for the prey. Quickly she averted her eyes and clapped her hands over her ears as the stream of arrows sailed through the air. She waited, falling into the depths of her mind and concentrated to open the connection with the animal. He didn’t make a sound nor did he move.

Ariya stood, carefully moving as she balanced her weight on the shaky branch.
Time to work.
Her wings expanded to their full size and she descended to the ground in one graceful movement.

The gazelle jumped back and she leaned in to catch its eye. She told herself not to look at the arrows embedded in his coat. For they didn’t hurt it, and with the help of her magic, they weren’t recognized by the animal itself. Its front legs shook slightly at first, ready to turn and run until she caught its gaze. He was an aged animal long disconnected from its family. Memories of its youth washed over him from the years he was reared as a child alongside his brothers and sisters to the days it learned to evade predators. He was tired of running.

Ariya gently caressed the animal’s thick muscles, calming his shiny and soft coat while still holding its gaze. He was ready. It understood that she too was apart of the Earth, but she was here for a different reason. She couldn’t help feeling a bit of sadness for this creature despite their understanding. She promised his passing would not be painful but swift and calm like a smooth, ocean sunset.

It descended to the ground, first on its hind legs then its front legs before lying down on the damp soft soil. A song swept over her mind that her mother used to sing to her when she was a child.

All dreams must end

Life is a dream of unknown darkness

I will usher you into the light

Sleep, my dear, sleep

Slowly it’s large, doe eyes closed. Its breathing lessened to a silent calm. She felt the hunters close in behind her as they inched in to confirm the gazelle’s spirit passing on. Her wings gently fluttered then folded behind her back. She bowed her head and said a soft prayer.
Be gentle with this one, Mawu-Lisa, he was kind.

* * * *

The realm of the Aziza was wrapped in mist and shadow. Tall green everglades decorated the vast lands. Animals roamed the grass alongside the Aziza fairies. Since she was a child, Ariya played with the exotic beasts as if they were her own Fairy peers. She didn’t think much about the outside parallel world of humans. When they needed their services to hunt, the Aziza would come. It wasn’t a world she was to visit otherwise. The Aziza people usually kept to their own with curious rituals unknown to outsiders. True, she did learn all she could about human history from the ancestors of the lands through oral traditions and her father’s library of books, but she wasn’t ready to find out what life was like on the other side. The stories of the untamed mortals in the outer world were enough to keep her closely connected to her own realm.

And then, why would she want to leave? The villages offered a sanctuary she likened to her happy childhood. Smaller huts created of the forest leaves, trees and earth offset the larger palaces of white marble in each village. She never considered herself or her sisters any higher than their townspeople despite their royal birthright. She considered herself like them, trying to survive in the same world. The only difference was her growing powers that no other Aziza gained. Not even her sisters. As the days went on with each new lesson learned, Ariya was getting better at honing her new powers.

As evening fell upon the Aziza lands, the nightly ritual began. The gazelle’s spirit had returned to the deity to be reborn anew in another form, thus leaving its body an empty vessel for consumption in the nightly feast. The warm night air awakened the oncoming summer season.

Ariya walked along the thin bed of damp dirt and grass, enjoying the feel of the fresh ground beneath her feet. She couldn’t wait for the season to birth the re-growth of trees and wildlife. With it came the union of souls in marriage so that the Aziza people will go on.