Ascension - (Alarian Warriors)
False Leads

Later that afternoon Vincent and Aveyon arrived at their first destination. The Temple was a high-standing structure surrounded by garden beds that were in full bloom. A large lake lay around the side, tall trees enclosing the little paradise.

Dismounting and fastening the horse to a post they made their way to the stone pillared entrance. Greeted by some monks, the men bowed in welcome, and Aveyon returned the gesture. Bowing low she swept her long skirt around her in an elegant manner that left Vincent in awe. She put his humble bend forward to shame.

“Welcome! Welcome travellers, what can we do for you today?” One of the monks stepped forward, an eager smile on his face.

They mustn’t get many visitors; she thought as she grimaced under her cloak. Aveyon did her best to take charge of the situation.

Vincent was ready to back her up at a moment’s notice, but he could see and feel her pushing herself through her discomfort.

“Good day, Sir. We have travelled here to learn more about the Celestial Maiden tale that has been spreading. Rumour has it, such a tale originated from this Temple.”

“Awe yes, I suppose you have heard of the artifact, would like to see it?” Asked one of the small bold men.

“Indeed, as long as we are not intruding. It has piqued my interest and I wish to learn more.” She responded.

“Of course! Of course, young lady. Please, follow me.” The monk motioned for them to follow as he turned and entered the temple.

She raised a brow, if only he knew exactly how old she was. She was by far his senior, though she didn’t look it. Following the monks she pulled her hood down, allowing it to rest on her shoulders. She didn’t miss the wide-eyed expressions as they took her in, now fully exposed. But they quickly hid their reactions and continued forward, not saying anything.

The inside of the structure was impressive, the high ceilings made them feel as though they had entered an endless space. Aveyon wondered just how they had managed to paint the memorials on the highest parts. Or rather how they had built the building at all without the aid of a supernatural race. She realized then that humans had come a long way since her last study session on Alarious.

The monks walked to the centre of the Temple before continuing. Each took turns speaking like they had rehearsed in advance. “The tale is an interesting one, shall we start from the beginning?”

Both Aveyon and Vincent nodded. They began the story as they walked around the temple. They pointed to many of the paintings that seemed to depict the events as they were told. Ending their short tour at a well-decorated altar.

The story went:

“Once there was a heavenly being who visited earth regularly. It was said she liked to bathe in the waters of the purified spring of this very temple.

She was spotted one day by a man who worked and maintained the gardens. At first, he was too scared to approach her. She was a beautiful being you see, in body and in soul. Her song had attracted the man and every time he heard her voice he would sit by the spring and watch her until she would return to the heavens.

Though she knew of his presence, she never paid him any mind, never approached, or acknowledged him. On one fateful night, he spied on her until she departed this world. He watched as she emerged from the spring, she reached for the robes that hung on a nearby tree. Wrapping her elegant robes around herself, he watched as wings made from pure light sprung from them lifting her into the sky. She vanished into a bright light as the sun peeked over the horizon.

Several days passed and the man waited for her to return, days turned to months, months to years and still she did not show. Finally, some years later, she appeared once again bathing in the spring.

In the years that had passed the man had grown greedy. While she bathed, he stole and hid her robes so she would not be able to return to the heavens. When she emerged from the spring, she panicked not knowing what to do.

The man then approached her for the first time and asked her if she was alright, she told him that she could not return to the heavens without her robes, so he offered to help her search for them, already knowing that she would not find them.

They searched for weeks but found nothing, the man offered her shelter and showed her that she could be happy here with him. With time she grew to love the man and bore him three children.

The man grew power hungry, feeling that his wife was using too much of her power for herself, he asked if he could be granted powers. He claimed it was to better protect their family.

The maiden complied and gave him some of her essence. The man then began drunk on power, not just using the abilities she had bestowed upon him for good.

She told him that if he did not change his ways she would take back what she had given. He replied by saying that if his power were taken away, he would take the lives of their children as he could no longer protect them.

Shocked, but not knowing what else to do, the maiden did nothing, or so the man thought. Secretly she had started giving the rest of her power to her children.

One day, the children were speaking to their mother about a story that their father had told, of a time he had seen a heavenly being, an angel, as he called it. Through this, she soon discovered that the man that she had grown to love had been the one to steal her freedom from her.

She confronted him but had already given away all her power to him and her children. She no longer had the means of overthrowing him and taking back her powers. In her anguish and rage, she attacked him and failed. The man, having been tipped over the edge, lashed out and left the woman in a mortifying state.

That night would be a terrible night for all. The children had come to their mother’s aid. This caused the man to turn on them and unleash his power towards the children. Sadly, killing all three in cold blood.

The heavenly being had very little power left, but as her life began to fade, she used what little time she had and placed a curse upon the man and his kin to follow. He would never again find happiness, nor would he have any strength to fight his fate. He lost all his powers that day and lived as a poor deprived powerless old man...

Aveyon was shocked, she’d never heard a tale like it before, it certainly didn’t have a happy ending. Was any of it laboured in truth? She wondered as she followed the monks. Alarians with auras had often been called angels in the past, was it possible one had been here in the past?

“Most people think it’s a nice story, but they are truly mistaken. The true tale is rather gruesome, and I dulled it down for you. Many people turn it into a fairy tale with a happy ending.” The monk explained as he glanced at Aveyon, he’d obviously noticed her scars and was wary of certain details not needing to have said them out loud.

She faked a smile and nodded her thanks.

“So, this artifact that you found, is it from the story?” Vincent asked.

“Awe yes, it’s the maiden’s robes!” He stated quite proudly.

Aveyon looked at the man in disbelief.

He laughed and pushed open the large double doors behind the altar. “See for yourself...”

Walking through the doors they entered a large room, filled with glass-like containers that lined the walls. The largest of the cases lay in the centre, this one caught her attention immediately. Locked behind glass panels, spread out on a table was a beautiful robe. She gasped and placed her hand on the glass, eyes wide. The robe was a floor-length satin gown, it was white in colour with a light purple trim and lilac wrap around the waist.

“I’ll leave you two to look around, if you need any assistance, please feel free to come find us.” With that, the monks left leaving the two alone staring at the robes.

Vincent stepped up to stand beside Aveyon, he’d felt her shock the moment her eyes locked on the robes. He knew something was wrong.

“They're yours... aren’t they?” he asked in a soft voice.

When she slid to her knees her hands trailing down the glass, he got his answer.

“But how?” She managed to whisper; her mother had made them for her. They were a gift for her coming-of-age ceremony, this gown was decades old, and it still looked just as beautiful as it did the last time, she had worn it. Her father had stripped her of this very cloth that day she was cast out.

“They didn’t mention the great hole in the front of it in the story?” Vincent said as he studied the robe closely.

“That is because that damage happened the day I... It is where the aura was ripped from me.” She was shaking her head now, trying to make sense of this.

Vincent made a face and hissed. Ouch, he mouthed.

Aveyon laughed bitterly and sat down more comfortably turning her back to the glass. “You have no idea...” She trailed off. Sighing, she continued. “So, this is a dead end, it belongs to me, no point in sending it to Erosvent, I have already been found,” she remarked bitterly. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Shouldn’t there be... blood?” Muttered Vincent, from what he imagined, surely a wound of that kind would leave some sort of mark behind.

Aveyon frowned and looked up at him. “They could have cleaned them...”

“I just feel like, something like this would have more... stains?” Vincent didn’t feel right about this.

His concern and anxiety flooded her senses. Her thoughts were influenced by his feelings; she couldn’t help but ponder if this was in fact deliberate.

“Would it be possible that they could be a fake?” He questioned mirroring her own thoughts.

“If that were the case, it would have to be someone that saw me that day, someone that was there.” Ashera’s name came to mind, and she ground her teeth. “Suddenly, I am feeling like this is a trap...” She slowly stood looking around the room.

A figure materialized before them as if on cue, blocking their exit. The newcomer wore a long trench coat and black leather, with swords crossed over his back, it appeared he had come ready for a fight.

While Vincent, in a long-hooded coat, only wore linens. They were anything but prepared for this type of encounter. Vincent narrowed his eyes at the unknown male, who was he? And what was he doing here?

“I did not know demons were allowed out by themselves,” Aveyon called out, she wanted to confirm if Ashera was behind this. Only one race had the ability to shift in and out of space like that. It was an interesting ability, one she wished she could learn.

Demons coated their bodies in essence infused with water which gave their skin reflective properties. Confusing the eyes of on-lookers, at times they almost seemed invisible, and the next they would appear out of thin air.

“So, the Princess hasn’t lost her touch, but your powers are no more, with no aura you’re no threat to us now.” The voice that came out of the demon was layered like it didn’t entirely belong to the person speaking.

She recognized the deep harsh tone that overlapped the demons. This was Ashera, she knew it. He was speaking through the demon, probably even controlling it.

Crossing her hands over her chest she sighed. “Yet another person stating the plainly obvious, your intimidation needs work Ashera.”

The demon scrunched his face up and hissed. “Damon, don’t make it quick for her.” The voice ordered the demon.

It seemed to shake his head as if coming back to himself before taking a battle-ready stance. Its fangs glistened as his glare locked on the Princess.

Aveyon felt Vincent grow nervous and could see his eyes dart between her and the demon.

“Forgive me.” The demon seemed to mutter under his breath, his voice is own once again. His eyes glowed with a subtle red as he slowly advanced toward the two. His hand moved to one of his swords that lay across his back, his face expressionless. “Intruders to our territory must be quelled.”

“Your territory? Earth realm has always belonged to all.” Aveyon responded confused. Was Ashera making the demons believe the second realm was theirs?

The demon ticked his tongue like he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Vincent stiffened, readying himself for an attack, while Aveyon positioned herself behind him. She didn’t know how to fight; she was of no help in this situation and thought it best to stand back.

“Why go to so much trouble, as you said I am no threat?” she asked, peeking over Vincent’s shoulder. Maybe she could get some answers out of him in the meantime.

The demon’s head kinked to the side before he rolled his neck back to the centre.

“Orders.” Was all he said.

It was as though speaking didn’t come easy to him; he was forcing himself to respond. It almost looked painful to her, unnatural, it left her with a pit in her stomach.

“Be careful, he is no ordinary demon.” She muttered to Vincent as she felt the air around them buzz and crackle to life with energy.

“I know...this isn’t good,” Vincent responded. “We need to leave; you’re not trained for this yet.”

The demon was intimidating. His power rippled through the air so vividly they could feel and hear it. A loud cracking sound, like thunder, made her jump back a few steps.

The demon infused his weapon with essence, bringing the sword to life as it was unsheathed. The sword seemed to vibrate as flames licked at the metal edge, making the blade appear to be on fire, the dragon inscription caught her attention.

“Don’t let those hit you, you will not be able to wield essence. They will sever the connection between us.” Vincent gritted his teeth as he explained as quickly as he could.

She nodded understanding that would be dangerous for her if someone tried to invade her mind again. And with Ashera using the demon to project his voice, they knew he was watching.

The demon sprung forward with inhuman speed, his blade coming down ready to slash Vincent.

Aveyon squeezed her eyes shut and backed up against the glass cabinet. Her body was stiff and rigid, unsure of what to do.

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