Ashes of Eternity

THE SOUND OF MEMORY

The steady rhythm of the carriage wheels lulled Seraphina into a light slumber. The mountains blurred outside the window, the trees whispering secrets only the wind could understand. Her head leaned against the velvet cushion, eyes fluttering shut.

Then came the dream.

It wasn’t just a dream—it was a memory.

She was ten again, barefoot on the grassy hills of their land, laughter spilling from her lips as she chased after snow-white scales and fluttering wings. Nymeris, her dragon, danced through the air like starlight. He was small then, still growing, his eyes like liquid silver and his breath as warm as home. Her father had given her the egg on her seventh birthday, a souvenir from an expedition deep into the cursed mountains.

“Someday,” her father had said, placing the egg in her arms, “he’ll protect you when I’m not around.”

And he did. Nymeris became her best friend, her confidant, her protector from shadows both imagined and real.

But everything changed when she turned fifteen.

It was a rainy afternoon. She’d just returned from her first training session in the village square, bruised and humiliated. A group of older boys—sons of other noble clans—mocked her for being “a silent girl with ghost eyes.” One even spat on her dress, calling her a cursed half-breed.

She didn’t fight back. She just ran. Ran until she found herself in the garden, tears blinding her. Nymeris came to her, curling his long neck around her shoulder, cooing softly.

“I hate them,” she whispered. “Why can’t I be normal?”

She hugged him tightly, trembling with anger, shame, and confusion.

That’s when it happened.

A sudden stillness. The wind died. The flowers wilted.

Nymeris let out a soft gasp, his body going limp in her arms.

“No… no, please…” she begged, shaking him. “Wake up, Nymeris! Please!”

But the light had already faded from his eyes.

She didn’t know then, but her banshee blood had awakened.

In her grief and fury, she had unknowingly absorbed his life essence—his soul—through her wail and her touch. It was a banshee’s gift… and curse. A siphon of souls.

Her scream echoed through the estate that day. Her father found her clutching the dragon’s lifeless body, soaked in rain and heartbreak.

After that, she never sang again.

—-------------------

Seraphina jolted awake, her breath sharp in her throat. The carriage was still moving, quiet as ever.

She wiped a tear that had escaped her eye, staring at her trembling hand.

“No more deaths. No more mistakes.”

She had promised herself that. But fate… fate always had other plans.