Of Ash and Amber: The Last Lyandan Wolf

Chapter4

As Indiya slowly opened her eyes, the world around her appeared in a blurred mass of colors blending into one another. The smell of copper and dried sage wafted through the air as fragments of her consciousness returned. Voices rippled through the surrounding air, but she couldn’t make out the words. When she raised her hands to wipe her hazy eyes, a metallic clink echoed as the silver shackles jerked her hands back, slamming them against the solid surface beneath her. Indiya winced and attempted to wriggle the rest of her body.

The strain of the shackles against her skin made her pause and take shallow breaths. Her arms and feet were bound to a surface that made the hairs on her body stand and her muscles tense. The blurry shapes around her slowly came together, forming clearer images. The surrounding space seemed familiar. Her eyes locked onto a golden statue on a desk. The one she had seen in the room where the eerie girl lay.

“I’m on that marble table,” she realized, her heart dropping to her stomach.

Suddenly, a cloaked figure appeared beside her, holding a gourd filled with yellow liquid. Forcing her lips open, the figure poured the liquid into her mouth. Indiya’s stomach churned as the bitter liquid burned across her tongue and trickled down her throat. She squirmed on the table in a futile attempt to free herself.

“Don’t try so hard to resist, ashen one. I promise to let you die peacefully if this ritual doesn’t work out.”

She turned her head toward the voice and saw a woman with blonde bangs holding a wooden staff wrapped with red vines. The events before she went unconscious flashed through her mind.

“My name is Leon. I’m the grandmaster of the Famir Mages and the head of this ritual. You have been chosen to carry on the legacy of the Lyandans if their blood accepts yours.”

Leon paused and handed her staff to a cloaked mage beside her. She walked towards the table where Indiya lay and placed her hands on the shackles binding Indiya’s wrists. She muttered something, and the silver shattered, setting Indiya’s arms free. Indiya pushed herself upright and sat facing Leon and her circle of mages.

Leon waved her hands in the air, and suddenly a chair with a glass of wine resting on it materialized before her. She sat and crossed her legs, her ivory boots catching the light.

“I’m sure you must have some questions. We give each chosen one the privilege of knowing the terms of the ritual before we begin. You have a limit of 3 questions before the ritual begins, so choose wisely. You may speak.”

Leon gestured for a coat to be brought to Indiya.

Indiya collected the coat from a mage and wrapped it around herself. Looking down, she saw her ankles still firmly bound, the icy metal pressing against her skin. She let out a frustrated sigh, taking a breath to steady her voice before facing Leon.

“My home was in chaos. My father was killed, and my mother bound in chains. One of the uniformed men who attacked my home was about to kill me. But before he could, his head was cut off, and I found myself in one of the rooms here.”

“Why was I saved? You should have let me die instead of putting me through all this pain!” Indiya’s voice croaked as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.

A mage handed her a napkin. Indiya dried her eyes, brushing strands of hair away from her cheek.

“That was a very unfortunate event. The Silver Claw clan never knows when to stop their schemes,” Leon said, taking a sip of her wine.

“You were saved because I sensed your presence, and it was useful to my cause. I couldn’t let such potential waste.”

Indiya’s eyes widened at Leon’s words as she remembered the badge she saw on one of the uniformed guards. She wanted to ask about the pack, but first she needed to know why she was surrounded by mages. With two questions left, Indiya asked her next question.

“Why am I a chosen one for your ritual?” she asked, staring at Leon.

A subtle smile crossed Leon’s face as she rose from her chair and set down her glass.

“This ritual is sacred and involves the bloodline of the Lyandans. Due to an ancient, tragic war, the Lyandans were wiped out. Only a single vial of their true blood remains. The chosen ones are injected with this blood in hopes of forcing an awakening, but so far they have all died,” Leon said with a tired look on her face.

“Why must this bloodline be continued?” Indiya asked, hoping she hadn’t wasted her last question.

“To fulfill the prophecy of the Dark Times. A Lyandan child on the night of the first black moon in 300 years is to claim the mantle and ward off the evil of the Ancient Empire of Caro, which will threaten to consume the world.”

“To make this happen, the bloodline must continue. Only girls with high blood can accept the Lyandan blood, but all our previous trials have failed. Hopefully you’ll make it, ashen one, because you have the blood of the Scyari,” Leon said before Indiya was dragged down, and the shackles clamped back on her wrists.

Leon stepped out with a silver syringe filled with bubbling blood. Indiya thrashed and screamed, her voice echoing through the room.

“Who are the Scyari you speak of?” she asked, her words scraping against her throat. A sudden pressure above her kept her steady and unable to move.

“While under this spell, your limbs are immobile, so your struggles are in vain. I’ve done this so many times and the resistance makes my blood boil,” Leon said. Cloaked mages gathered around Indiya in a circle, chanting as she felt the prick of a needle in her veins.

A sudden sensation pulsed through her veins, her heart slamming against her chest.

A mage towered over her, its face hidden behind a sagging hood. It raised a silver dagger over her torso and plunged it into her stomach.