{Fields of Ashes}

A soft wind whistles in my ears, the sun off in the distance, slowly rising. Everything feels oddly...cold for once. A foreign cold that's never graced my skin before. It feels....uncomfortable.

What happened?

The last thing I remember was a large gust of wind along with agonizing pain.

I blink like I've just woken up from a deep sleep, the world around me hazy like I'm looking through a foggy camera lens.

There's a dull throb in my left shoulder, and I feel exhausted. There's a weight in my right hand. I'm grasping something hard and firm with a strip of leather clasped round it; a hilt.

My stiff feet move in a half stumble, arms feeling heavy as the muscles in them tremor with overextension. Feeling like rubber.

My breathing comes out in deep breaths, like I've been running for hours. Yet I don't think I've been running.

A strong smell assaults my nose next. Sweet and metallic. Sickening to the point it makes my stomach turn over in distaste.

One of my rapid blinks is finally rewarded when the fuzzy film suddenly clears, and my eyesight returns.

I wish it had stayed dark.

It looks like a bloodbath.

Those four soldiers lay around me, dark blood splattering the white snow like a sick canvas masterpiece. Their eyes remain open, blank and staring. Their faces pale, waxy looking.

Blood seeps through some of their armor where obvious incisions in the material reside, discarded swords laying next to the curled fingers of their hands.

I step back in horror, my heart suddenly feeling like it's in my throat as it grows harder to breathe.

How did....?

My eyes then land on the sword that extends outwards from my right hand. Emotions I don't even know washing over me as I take in the fresh blood that now shimmers on the sleek blade.

No.

I choke out a breath, holding the swords further away from me in disgust as I get the overwhelming urge to fall to my knees. One definite thought circling in my head with utmost truth.

I've done this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dare's (POV)

I stare out at the open meadow, completely enthralled by the scene that just played out before my very eyes.

I'd just made it here - thanks to Arveldis of course, to witness Callon and Roxie standing out in the open by a wounded Ron with a small band of soldiers charging them.

And just as I was getting ready to draw my own dagger and charge out there myself to most likely die in the process - but hey, who cares? It's life. - Callon did the most unsuspecting thing.

He started walking out to meet them.

I of course was completely baffled as-to why he would just waltz out there like some bozo jacket up on fairy spirits, freezing me in place.

Who is this slightly arrogant guy I know nothing about that would purposely walk out to his death? This mysterious guy that hasn't even let me see his face the whole two-ish days I've known him.

A little suspicious there.

Then, the most interesting thing I've ever been blessed to see took place.

A powerful gust of wind shot up out of nowhere, plowing into the five approaching soldiers. Their horses spooked, throwing a few off and galloping away. The leader managing to escape. Unfortunately.

Red and blue tendrils of energy began to seep off him in a amount I can only ever dream of accomplishing. Alive as they pulsed and flew around him.

Then I must've blinked or something, because the next thing I knew Callon was suddenly across the hundred foot space between them, his sword raised above his head. The blade glowing a bright aqua blue.

Five seconds later, all four of the soldiers lay dead at his feet.

How in Aglarel above did he do that?!

The immense amounts of focused energy surrounding him..... I don't think even Torion can summon that much to the point it's that visible around him. His age shows he's too young to possibly be able to grasp his energy with that much mental power. It takes decades and years of hard training as a apprentice to harness that much power. Not to mention the skill he just showed with a sword. Though that's not nearly as uncommon around here.

So....how?

I stare across the two hundred yards between us, my feet positioned right at the corner of the forest before it falls out to a clear, snow white opening.

My feet carry me ahead without my knowledge, and I vaguely catch the small nicker directed to me from Arveldis behind me. Resorting to staying behind.

Callon just continues to stare down at his sword, almost like he just realized what he did. My own eyes stay glued to the back of his head that's facing me, his hood having fallen back during his little...show.

Midnight black hair falls in layers to just bellow his neck, the ends swinging in the now gentle breeze.

I stop by Roxie and Ron, glancing down at them a moment before looking back at Callon.

Roxie's kneeling next to Ron, a look of pure bewilderment across her face as she to stares at Callon. Her hand frozen over the bleeding wound under Ron's shoulder blade. A piece of fabric clutched in her hand.

Ron lays on his side with his eye half open, focused across the field on Callon. I notice the way his chest rises and falls in uneven spurts, the raspy sound coming from his nostrils. Dark blood surrounds the shaft if the arrow, staining his pure white coat.

He doesn't have much time left.

I watch as Callon's sword drops from his hand, clattering into the soft cushion of the snow before he falls to his knees. He places his hands on his lap, bending his head down low. The rest unknown to me seeing as I can't see anything but his back.

There's a deep, burning suspicion in the back of my mind as I gaze over at him. His name once again - so rare, calling something up from the back of my mind. A memory?

Callon.....

I'm once again moving forward, this time at a angle as I head to the left. I make it about halfway before his face is suddenly completely noticeable in the growing light, my path leading me up to the left side of his body.

And my suspicions are confirmed.

His layered black hair falls over his ears I now see are pointy, meaning only one thing; he's of a elven race. Complete opposite of the human heritage I'd presumed at first. Though the slightly smaller size makes me believe I may not be all wrong in thinking he's human.

His piercing blue eyes stare straight ahead, a touch of coldness to them I've yet to see. So captivating and bright against the smooth tan paler of his skin and black hair.

What? But there's only one elven breed said to look like that. But Dark Elves have been extinct since....

Everything suddenly falls into place, and my feet literally stop in place like I've stepped in front of a wall. A cold sensation washes through me along with a spark of long dormant hope I've kept concealed for far too long.

It's....him.

That's the only plausible answer. He's finally returned. After all these years. Now we can finally gain back what's been taken from us.

Though, I can't say I wasn't expecting something a little more....extravagant.

I let a soft breath out, my wide eyes probably making me look like I've seen a ghost sent by Gyrythil herself as I gaze at him from the mere twenty feet between us.

"I-It's...you." It comes out more as a statement than a question, my voice sounding quiet and small even to my own ears.

Nothing on his stony face changes. Only the small turn of his head towards me giving me any sign he's heard me.

I quickly walk forward, stopping only when there's five feet between us.

I scan his facial features again, the specific design and sleekness to it. Everything screaming 'Elven' to me from all the many nights I've spent reading up on history lore. Or more specifically; Dark Elf.

And there's only one of those left in the entire universe.

"You're Callon, son of Thanguron and Zitkalasa. Former King and Queen of Orelon." I breathe out, instantly falling into the traditional bow that's been engraved in my head since well before I can remember. It being something everyone learns at a young age.

But why, why would Torion keep this from me? Sure he just met me, but this is the long lost Prince of Orelon we're talking about. The true King of Orelon. Everyone needs to know about this!

Everyone's been waiting. And now, now he's finally returned.

Callon lets a slow breath of air out through his nose, swallowing before his right hand moves down from his lap, wrapping around the hilt of his fallen sword without his eyes even moving.

There's a slight grating noise as he drags the blade through the snow a few times to rid it of the blood, then he uses his other hand to run the bottom of his cloak over the blade before he stands up in one quick movement.

"Get up." He sheaths his sword, still staring ahead. "I don't deserve any...respect." He mutters, turning to his right as he heads the way I came from. Leaving me without another word.

Huh?

His words confuse me, and there's a stab of anger that hits my chest. Immediately fueling my already hot blood.

I snap up into a standing position, quickly marching towards Callon without another thought. Leaving the bloodbath behind me.

I come up beside him, falling in step with his long strides. "Hey, you can't just...walk off like that after I've figured out who you are!" I take a breath. "Are you headed to the refugee camp to gather some troops before you storm the castle? Where have you been all these years? - I mean sure we all know the legend about you being carried off through the portal to earth before Gurthon could kill you, but -"

My mouth snaps shut as he suddenly turns towards me, stopping in place. A furry burning in his enchanting eyes.

"I'm no one, okay? I'm just a guy from New York who's travels all over North America with my aunt and just so-happened to get sucked into a fantasy world." He glares at me, and I only stare back, shocked. "I'm no lost prince. I'm not some 'destined' king that's come to save everyone from evil." He gestures around him with his hand. "I just want to get back to earth; my home." His voice lowers, his eyes growing distant before he steps back from me.

"Trust me, you guys are better off without me around."

He stares at me a second longer before looking away, resuming his walk with a tired sigh.

What? He-he can't be serious?! We can't have waited all this time for someone....For someone who isn't going to even try to help us.

What about the prophecy?

No. I refuse to believe this!

I stomp back up to his retreating figure, widening my shoulders. "At least tell me this, are you, or are you not the missing prince?"

He stops.

I pause at his right, watching as his throat moves in a obvious gulp, eyes down on the ground.

"I am." He confirms, sounding almost....disappointed.

I feel like the air around me has been sucked up, leaving me nothing. I glance back up towards where Roxie sits, observing us. Then back to Callon. My mind working overtime as I put two and two together.

What he just said, the way he's been hiding himself under the cowl of his cloak, traveling with Torion.

He's not going to help us.

I stay rooted in place as he continues to walk forward, crossing my arms. "So you are heading to the refugee camp. But you're only going to use the portal there to travel back to your precious earth, aren't you?" The words come out snobbier than I'd have liked, and I see his shoulders tense.

Confirming my suspicions once again.

What he said about living on earth, how he called it his home, means the legend surrounding his disappearance twelve years ago is right.

He was sent to earth. And now he believes that's his real home.

"You weren't brought here by accident, Callon." I call up to him. "Nothing is truly a accident. Especially for here."

"And no matter how hard you try to run from your.....destiny. You'll only wind up right back where you started."

I blow a slow breath out, seriously wondering where these wise words of wisdom are suddenly coming from.

Maybe Arahaelil is lending me some of her wisdom?

Though it sadly doesn't seem to be working as I'd hoped. But that doesn't mean I haven't kindled some form of doubt inside his brain.

Callon - the prince, kneels down beside Ron, gently stroking his side as he gazes down at the wound with furrowed brows.

How did he even find Ron if he hasn't even been here that long?

I purse my lips, feeling the usual tug in my chest whenever I sense someone in pain. Be it mythical, human, or animal.

I walk across the remaining space between us, catching a few words as Roxie's mouth moves. Her eyes on Callon.

"-had no choice. They were going to kill us."

Callon regretfully shakes his head, and that's when I realize something.

If he hasn't grown up here, and from what I've heard about earth being nothing like here, than he probably grew up not even knowing that this world existed.

He could've just recently been told about it. About himself.

Which would explain the doubt and hesitation I see in his features after killing those soldiers, the guilt.

He doesn't know what to do.

He's conflicted. His mind torn between two different worlds. In one he has the familiar characteristics he's accustomed to, what he's grown up knowing. Then there's here, the unknown, mind boggling truth he's always hinted upon, yet kept locked away. Afraid to know the truth he could feel brimming in his mind.

He just needs to realize this is his home. That this world needs his help. That he's more capable than he knows - he's proved it just now. He just needs to build up his confidence, and get out of his shell he's hiding under.

I stare over at them a few seconds longer, my own thoughts surprising me.

I'm usually the get-with-the-action kinda girl. But it appears I'm going to have to wait on this one.

Duty calls anyway.

I surprise both Callon and Roxie as I crouch down beside Callon, my eyes examining the blood covered side of Ron.

I shuffle closer, immediately being met with a low growl that comes from Ron's chest. Callon places his left hand on his head, stroking the fur in a soothing gesture as he repeatedly looks between me and the arrow. His face tight with a discomfort.

Yeah, this isn't going to feel good for either of them judging on how strong their connection seems to be.

I reach out with my left hand, slowly laying it down beside the wound.

"What are you-"

I cut Callon off, it feeling like our little conversation didn't even take place no more than a minute ago.

"I'm a healing mage....Well, a healing mage in training." I see more doubt flicker across his face, and I quickly correct it. "But I can take care of this." I meet his eyes.

"Trust me."

He stares a few seconds longer, indecision swirling in his eyes. Then he looks away, nodding before he redirects his attention back on Ron.

I close my eyes, focusing my energy and clearing my head.

Something that I can only describe as something akin to a map pops up in my brain, a few darker spots highlighted to grab my attention. The arrow, straight through and without hitting any main arteries or bone.

"It's not too bad. But I'm going to need to pull the arrow out." I tell them, looking between all three.

I meet Ron's steady, yet hazy gaze. His eyes reminding me of a humans despite the triangular fury face they sit on.

Callon nods like he was expecting that answer, biting his bottom lip as he seems to brace himself while he continues to soothe Ron.

Roxie stares down at the arrow, her face set in what looks like a permanent grimace. "Are you sure? Have you even done this before - or even something remotely close to it?" She questions, wrapping her right arm around her stomach like she's about to be sick.

I give a wry chuckle, settling my nerves. "Nope. Not at all. Unless you count helping a pig give birth." I answer without looking up, probably making the situation worse. Hey, I make bad jokes when I'm nervous. Deal with it.

Here goes nothing.

I slowly place my right hand around the thick piece of wood jutting out between his shoulder blade, the surface slick with warm blood. I set my left hand done beside it, using it as a sorta anchor I suppose.

I blow a steady breath out, feeling my stomach twist slightly with both unease and disgust at the sight.

Calm it Dare. You've studied up on this type of healing spell. Sure it doesn't come close to having real life experience. But it's all we have at the moment.

Because I don't know if he'll survive the trip back to Torion.

Aglarel help me.

Gritting my teeth, I tighten my hold seconds before I push all hesitation to the back of my mind, jerking my hand straight up.

Callon sucks in a harsh breath the same moment Ron lets a pained whine out, both of them tensing from the sudden onslaught of fresh pain as the arrowhead pulls through already ripped flesh before popping completely out.

Callon leans over to the left, his right arm up at his left shoulder as he takes deep, measured breaths. Ron pushes his head deeper in the snow, his eyes fluttering as a few more small whines leave his snout.

Roxie has her head angled completely away, her right hand up at her mouth.

Hm, Ms. Fabulous isn't one for blood. Can't say I blame her though.

I breathe in and out at a much quicker pace than usual, holding the arrow up to my right as I stare down at the larger hole that's now speeding up in terms of bleeding.

Dropping the arrow in the snow, I mumble a few incoherent words under my breath, quickly placing both hands over the wound.

I close my eyes again, focusing my energy down into my hands then into the wound. Imagining every torn ligament and muscle sealing back together before the skin itself heals over to leave a simple red line.

I feel the familiar heat that washes over my body as I use my energy, a slight tug in my gut before my hands begin to tingle.

My eyes open, and I'm immediately greeted with the sight of my yellow energy floating above my hands in sparks and tendrils. Though it's not nearly as impressive or spectacular as his was.

Sensing I've done all I can do, I breathe in a long breath, calling the energy back into me before I completely shut off the flow.

I slowly unfold my hands from over his side, feeling like I should be preparing for the worse despite how confident I my appear on the outside.

I just performed my first serious healing spell!

Pushing the bloodstained white hair out of the way, a smile instantly spreads across my face as I take in the sealed slab of skin in the wake of the wound.

I've done it. I actually did it.

I turn back to a mildly surprised Callon, letting the smile leave my lips to the point it's just a ghost of one.

"You never know what you can do until you try."

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A/N

Surprise, surprise, surprise! I've finally updated again!

BEFORE I UPDATE AGAIN, THIS BOOK NEEDS AT LEAST 6 VOTES!! How does this happen?....you vote!!

Questions:

1.) What are your thoughts on Dare?

2.) Whose POV do you prefer?

3.) What do think now that Dare knows who he is?

Hope you enjoyed?! I spent a whole day writing this because I knew it was high time I updated again. And also because someone actually asked me to update. (Yes that helps to motivate me.)

Next update: When I get those 6 votes. 😁

Maggy