Ashes Unwritten: Oblivion's Heir [Volume 1 Complete!]

Claire sat in a haze of her own pain and tried to parse through what she saw. She was going into shock, but there was little she could do but try to keep her wits about her. If the storm kept advancing, she wouldn't need medical care, anyway.

Arlette and Eamon followed behind her Shadow, the two of them refusing to take refuge in its arms. Claire thought it was rather comfortable, but perhaps that was just because she was delirious and injured. Still, she wished the two of them would climb onto her makeshift vehicle—the storm was moving faster now, as if it was energized by some unseen force. It still crept along for now, but soon it would be hard to outrun. They had to reach the palace before that happened.

The streets were eerily empty, devoid of guards and people alike. Arlette's limp slowed her significantly, and Eamon was bleeding from several cuts, but they were all alive—for now.

Claire followed Eamon's gaze towards one of the palace battlements. Tendrils of the black storm crept towards a center point atop one of the towers, as if drawn there by some unseen force. Claire squinted, but her vision was blurry and ragged on the edges. Was that…a person standing in that inky blackness?

"Is that another storm?" she asked as they slowed. Eamon's face was grave as he watched, and Arlette simply seemed resigned.

"No, lass, I don't think it is," he replied, voice quiet. Those shadows twisted and built, visible even from far away, then erupted into the sky, spreading, and finally disappearing. There were a few moments of silence, and then light erupted in a column, reaching towards the sky, so blindingly bright that Claire's eyes watered.

"Whatever it is, I don't want to be out here with it, "Arlette said, turning towards the palace. They were nearly at the gate that led underground, and she limped ahead to unlatch it, her leg dragging rather uselessly behind her. Claire turned her gaze away from the blinding light and watched Arlette tug, and then tug again. She kicked the door, wincing at the pain in her leg, and then stood there, mouth agape. Eamon rammed a shoulder against the gate as Claire willed her creature to slow.

"It's locked, lass. We're not getting in this way," Eamon said. His eyes turned back towards the storm as it crept up the street. Claire hoped the school had a deep enough bunker to survive that storm or her heroism was for nothing.

"Why would they lock anyone out?" Arlette asked, trying the door again. "Practically everyone in the city is inside the cloudspawned place." She crossed her arms, scowling at the door.

Claire studied the door blearily for a moment. She just wanted to sleep. Her leg was a sharp, insistent pain, and every little movement set her ribcage on fire again, but she used that pain to center herself and to clear her mind. There would be a solution to this. There always was.

She was sitting on it, she realized.

"Let me try something," she said, and Arlette and Eamon moved aside, Arlette watching the Shadow warily. She didn't trust it, and Claire could hardly blame her. What would happen when her Fulminancy ran out?

Claire willed further solidity into the creature, tensed its muscles, and braced herself as it slammed into the door. Should have had it put me down first, she thought, gritting her teeth. The vibrations were enough to bring pain cascading back into her leg, but she'd have much bigger problems if they couldn't get the door open.

She had the creature step back. The door hadn't budged. Something flew past her head—debris, more prevalent now as the storm inched its way towards them. Claire fought back a wave of panic.

"I don't think your little friend can do much more than cart you around," Arlette said.

"What do we do?" Claire whispered. The storm was a black wall tearing up entire buildings in its wake. Arlette polished her sword one last time before sheathing it. She turned towards the storm and stood at parade rest, her back straight and her eyes sharp.

"We hope that Kess is a good bet."

"Or?" Claire asked. Arlette inclined her head towards the storm, respect in her gaze, like it was a worthy opponent come to claim a prize.

"Or we bet on the wrong horse."

Kess felt more than saw the complete collapse of everything she knew about herself. Shadows descended like a suffocating blanket, twisting and gnashing as they enveloped her every limb and every sense. She fell through that blackness, though part of her understood that she still stood there on the plaza, facing the storm. There were faces in those shadows—memories of a past she didn't want to face—and Kess felt herself slipping away, losing her sense of self.

Her parents.

Her aunt and uncle.

Draven.

Countless Fulminant soldiers.

Oliver.

Her mind tallied the losses, each death taking her one step closer to oblivion. She'd killed them all with her Fulminancy. She hadn't been strong enough to save them. She was a monster.

She would become a shadow, fated to twist about in the Ashfall, her own will that of the storm. She couldn't save them. She'd always been a monster from the day she'd killed her family—a fuse waiting to be lit. And even now, she found her power impossible to control.

It was what she'd feared for so long—Fulminancy without a leash. Fulminancy that wielded her. Outside, everyone trusted that she'd find a way through this darkness, but Kess was consumed by it as she swirled in its depths. The Shadows would eat her mind and leave her as a husk of who she'd been.

Her own shadowed form emerged from the darkness, staring her down as it had in that warehouse so long ago. Words bubbled up to her, echoing and indistinct.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

I'm a monster.

Maybe you are. But I've seen a lot of monsters in my work, Kess. Do you know what the worst one of them all is? Guilt.

Claire's words, on another dark night, surrounded by blood and death.

Is a man a murderer simply because he wields a sword?

She saw a dark woman, huddled in a cell, beaten and bloodied, but not yet defeated. Finally, Rowan's calm voice echoed around her, warm and comforting.

Forgetting who you are is one of the most common forms of despair.

Who was she? Was she the silent wretch huddled in a damp, destroyed alleyway, her power crackling around her wildly? Was she the whisper of dark storms, death, and revenge sweeping through a garrison? Was she the cold, forgotten mountain air of a broken woman, desperately trying to run from a past that she could never really escape?

No, she thought, somewhere out of the depths of that panic and despair. She wasn't that woman anymore. That Kess feared her Fulminancy and stuffed it away to some unreachable place. She blamed herself for a past she could do little about and allowed her powers to define her. She used her fear as an excuse to avoid responsibility and duty.

And that version of herself had been unable to save anyone she loved.

Kess saw herself, a woman from over a year ago now, her face pinched and angry, suspicious of everyone around her, harboring self-hatred so deep that it came to define her. Kess reached out and embraced that version of herself. She could learn from this woman, remember this woman—but she could not be this woman. Not anymore.

That phantom image evaporated, some of the shadows retreated, and Kess sighed. She reached for that tiny well of Rowan's power, using it as a salve for her mind, and some clarity returned. She didn't know how long she had before the shadows returned, but she would harness this power before then.

That Fulminancy—a roaring mix of power from so many individuals—was overwhelming and wild, a force impossible to control. It seared through her veins, burning away her body and her mind. She'd kept her own power locked down for years, but this was something else—it was something no one should have to wield.

That power had its own mind and will. She tried to turn it to face the Ashfall, but as she faced that black wall, she realized that Mariel had been right—she couldn't fight the storm with Fulminancy alone. True to its name, it would devour the Fulminancy and grow stronger than before.

Still, her Fulminancy strained against her, bucking and wild, its will a desperate urge to destroy. It paid no mind to the thousands of people barely below ground, or the few who stood nearby, watching Kess apprehensively as she wrestled with it. It wanted only to destroy, and Kess found that her will began to be shaped by the power itself, instead of the other way around.

You want to destroy the Ashfall, don't you?

She felt a tug on her emotions, a flare of her passion for fighting. She shook her head, gritting her teeth. No, I can't use this to destroy. I have to think of something else.

She held onto it for dear life, panicking as she tried to come up with a plan. She could no longer feel her body, but felt fear all the same, a cold swirling in her veins as that power called out to her, a sweet siren song demanding that she let go.

She held, though she felt her body being eaten up below. She held, though her mind unraveled at the edges. She held, even as she found herself completely devoid of all ideas. She'd run from Fulminancy, survived with Fulminancy, and fought with Fulminancy. Now she would protect with it, even if it was the last thing she had to offer the world.

Protect with it…

Kess blinked.

Suddenly, she knew what to do.

And at that moment, the Fulminancy strained against her touch again, bucking and wild, the burn of light and power and destruction pushing against her mind.

Finally, the dam inside of Kess simply…cracked.

Kess felt it as a well of power bursting out from her, but still she held, even as she felt those cracks appear in her very soul. She was dying. She knew the cost, and yet she couldn't let go. These people, even the Fulminant, deserved a second chance.

"Mariel!" she shouted into the space around her. She wasn't sure if it was really her voice or just an approximation of it as she swirled around in that power and became that power. Mariel's tiny storm was nearly a memory as it was swallowed up in the black tempest that devoured the city. "Mariel, are you still in here?"

A tiny voice replied, as if from a distance. It sounded weak and exhausted. "Somewhat."

"I need your help."

"Child, I didn't—the lockets will destroy the storm."

"They didn't," Kess said simply. Her Fulminancy was leaking now—she had to do something with it fast. Already she didn't know if she would have a body to return to. Mariel seemed confused, her consciousness half melded with the tiny storm she sat in. Then Kess felt Mariel brush against her own consciousness, concerned.

"That's too much power for you." Kess swallowed, feeling another crack.

"I know. Will you stay with me? I—I think I can shield the city if I use some of Rowan's power."

Mariel seemed to regard her sadly, though Kess couldn't see the woman. She was adrift and awash in that power, trying desperately to keep it at bay before it destroyed everything she loved. She wasn't even sure if this plan would work, but she had to try. There was no other solution.

Finally, she felt Mariel's ephemeral arms wrap around her in that space, comforting and warm. They embraced her, giving her knowledge, sheltering her from those cracks in her soul as she held Kess together. Kess wondered in that moment how long Mariel had been watching her, as she remembered that embrace, distantly, from another time.

She faced the storm again, drawing up that well of power, tempered with Mariel's knowledge and Rowan's calming Fulminancy. Perhaps Kess had been forged for war. Perhaps she was a weapon and a tool to be used. But as she stood there, bathed in unfathomable amounts of Fulminancy, she knew something more important—she could choose to be something else. She would use these powers to protect, even if it meant the end of everything she knew. Even if it meant the end of herself.

She let those powers spill out, forming into a shield that covered the remaining portion of the city, a grand and beautiful thing of multiple swirling colors, the Fulminancy and hope of so many people melded into one. Those powers wanted to destroy, but Kess turned them into something else as they met the edges of the storm, then covered them with a thin veneer of Rowan's muffled power. She willed it to protect and to hold as the storm crashed against the edges of that power.

As the storm met her shield, it shriveled and lost its power, those black tendrils snaking away like cut ribbon. Where it retreated, Kess sent the power forward, straining for control against her Fulminancy as it fought to give chase.

In spite of that yawning power, Kess found she wasn't afraid. Kess had spent most of her life running and fighting. She'd seen herself as a force of destruction to be dealt with and endured, but as she pressed the storm back, bit by bit, she realized that she hadn't been fighting to destroy at all, but to protect. Her powers swirled around her, but this time, fear was a distant memory. She'd rejected this storm of powers, yet they made her who she was. And today, she would choose how to wield them.

Kess threw that last bit of that power out as the storm dissipated, and smiled.