From The Ashes (8 page)

Ying cried out, “Mei Liang, don’t!”

The archers pulled back the burning arrows on their strings.

“No one takes my life!” Mei Liang gasped, looking straight into Ying’s eyes, as he approached in the air.
 
Then she smiled, and turned to the Chungkuo’s Elder.
 
“I give it for the glory of my kingdom, for—!”

Three flaming arrows flew right into the center of her chest, the triune thuds cutting her words short.
 
But she stood, her eyes narrowed and did not—would not fall.

With an angry cry Ying flew down towards her.
 
But a barrage of flaming arrows launched at him and forced him to fly away in order to evade them.

He swung around, never taking his eyes from Mei Liang.
 
She too kept her eyes on his as she first fell to her knees, and the darkening red from the arrow points spread wider and wider over her crimson wedding gown.

// MY PRINCE //

Tears blurred Ying’s vision as the peasants from their box leapt out like a mob, some shaking fists at the Chungan soldiers, some pointing up at Ying who was flying in sharp angles around the arrows and around the arena.
 
Some ran to Chi, who rallied them with his sword held high.

Ying reached out to her.

// WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, MEI LIANG
?/
/

Her shoulders slumped, now the flames from the arrows ignited her gown.
 
White and gold flames licked up all around her.

// DO NOT GRIEVE…YING.
 
IT IS…THE WILL OF VALHANDRA //

And then she fell to the ground.
 
Her entire gown burst into a colorful conflagration of gold, white and red.
 
As though an entire barn had caught fire.
 
The flames were so much more than one body should produce, but Ying could only think of one thing.

Eyes burning with anger, Ying turned his focus to the Chungan Elder.
 
He could see him as clearly from way up in the sky as though he were sitting directly before his face.

With a wild eagle cry, Ying rushed down at him.

The wind rushed against his hair, against his clothes, against his face.

And within moments, his feet had turned down and transformed into talons.

Those talons fell upon the Chungan Elder, who covered his eyes to protect them.

With a heavy crash, Ying pinned the Elder to the ground, the sharp point of one of his claws pressed into his throat.

“The only reason I haven’t torn your throat out immediately is so that you would know who it is that has avenged the Princess!”

But rather than terror, the Elder only laughed.
 
“How amusing!”

Ying tightened his grip.
 
A small stream of blood oozed from the Elder’s neck.
 
He gasped.
 
“You have not quite thought through this course of action, have you?”

Immediately, about seven or more sharp sword points touched the back of Ying’s neck and spine.
 
From the corner of his eye, he noticed half a dozen archers with crossbows standing at the ready.
 
He was not certain that he would be able to fly away before they stabbed him or shot him with arrows.
 
Or if he could actually fly again.

The Elder scoffed.
 
“Not so arrogant now, are you?”
 

Ying's talons withdrew and returned to his calloused human feet. The Elder got up and stepped back from the soldiers surrounding Ying.
 
He slowly circled Ying and stroked his dark brown beard.
 
“Most intriguing.
 
I have heard the legends of this region of people who could do extraordinary things like you have just done.
 
The…
The…oh, what were they called?
 
Ah, yes. Sojourners!
 
They believed in this thing called the Spirit Potential.
 
Is that what you just exhibited, flying and transforming in part into a great bird of prey?”

They all had their backs facing the arena, but Ying could see Chi gathering a group of his fellow townsmen together for some kind of attack.
 
Perhaps all was not lost.
 
Ying shrugged and glared at the Elder.
 
“Choose your final words with care. Your death is at hand.”

With one hand, the Elder snatched a crossbow from one of his archers and pointed it straight into Ying’s chest.
 
But Ying could not help but focus over the Elder’s shoulder where the pyre in which his beloved Mei Liang’s form burned brighter still.
 
Even the Chungan soldiers backed away from the flames, shielding their eyes from the blinding light and rising heat.
 
It was so overpowering that they didn’t notice furtive movements of Chi and his men holding stones and the spears of the fallen contestants which they’d picked off the arena grounds.

“I don’t truly believe those tales of the Sojourners myself,” the Elder said, “But one can never be certain, can one?”

“Is that why Xieh Di wishes to subdue this entire region?
 
Because of what might be?
 
Haven’t you heard?
 
The Sojourners have been all but extinct for centuries.”

“And what about you?
 
Are you not a Sojourner?”

Before he could reply, a fierce battle cry flew up.
 
Chi’s men rushed up the steps with their weapons aimed.
 
The Lord Regent sighed, turned and pointed his crossbow at the peasants.
 
He nodded over to his archers, “Dispatch them at once.”

They were helpless against the arrows.
 
In an instant, they’d all be killed.
 
“Wait!”
 
Ying tried to reach out and stop as many Chungan soldiers as he could, but could not move without getting a sword or arrow thrust through his body.
 

And just as the bowstrings twanged, the arrows whistled through the air, something most remarkable happened.

At first, Ying thought a bolt of lightning had lit the sky.
 
It left him partially stunned and blinded.
 
But the sky was blue and the only clouds that hung in the air were cottony white.
 
The sound was neither a crack nor an explosion, but something that resembled a mighty wind.

Just before his eyesight returned, the rushing wind blew over everyone with the force of a gale and the heat of a furnace.
 
But from where?
 
And stranger than the looks of bewilderment on everyone’s face, stranger than the enormous ball of fire which had grown from Mei Liang’s burning body into a monstrosity of flames, were the arrows which for a moment stood perfectly still, suspended in the air in front of Chi and his men’s bodies.
 

In the space of a breath, the arrows turned to ashes and fell to the ground.
 
At the very same moment—for this all took place in the time it takes to blink—the fire in the center of the arena burst out in all directions.
 
A curtain of flames stretched up into the sky, its heat warming Ying’s face.
 

Some of the Chungan soldiers cowered back and made frightened sounds.

Even the Elder took a step back, “Courage, men! You are warriors, not children!”
 
But the trepidation in his own voice betrayed him.
 
The sight of the inferno whose flames resembled limbs groping for purchase, its crackling and howling wind struck awe in all present.

All except for Ying, who heard her voice
again.

// COME TO THE FIRE, MY LOVE //

Swords and other weapons fell to the ground.
 
Many of the soldiers covered their eyes and faces because the heat was becoming unbearable.
 
This left Ying free from the threat of their weapons.
 
They didn’t even notice when he leapt up and followed the voice in his mind.

As Ying passed over the heads of the soldiers, the Elder chastised his men and commanded them to pick up their weapons and shoot.

All eyes were on the fire which writhed like a living creature of enormous proportions.
 
None of them paid attention to Ying while he hovered above the ground just a few feet from the flames.
 
Those Chungan soldiers and archers unfortunate enough to be standing too close now lay on the ground, their charred remains blackened with smoke rising up with the sickening stench of burnt flesh.

Moh-Gwei, who had fallen by the fire, crept on all fours trying in vain to pick up his sword.
 
But each time he touched it, the skin on his hand sizzled and he dropped it quickly.
 
He looked at Ying with horror as he landed. “What demon are you?”

“You ought to be more concerned with what will happen to you, now that the Elder’s plans have failed,” Ying said.

Moh-Gwei sat exhausted and held up a hand.
 
“I… I was but a pawn.
 
They made grand promises…It was the Princess’s uncle, the Lord Protector.
 
He approved …
”
 
Moh
-Gwei put one hand behind his back as he steadied himself.

“Move away from her,” Ying
said,
his voice low and threatening.

“From whom?”
 
He turned around and back.
 
“There’s nothing here but these burning—”

Before Ying could react, Moh-Gwei pulled a cross bow from behind his back—from a fallen soldier—and aimed it straight at Ying.

But Ying didn’t move.

He didn’t have to.

A fiery tentacle reached out and wrapped itself several times around Moh-Gwei. The crossbow and its arrow incinerated instantly.
 
Almost as quickly, the flesh of what had once been the Prince of Chungzhou began to melt like a candle tossed into the fire. The flaming tendril pulled him into the fire before Ying could behold the horrific site any longer.

And then, the voice of the Elder echoed in the arena.
 
“Young Sojourner,
  
Surrender yourself now!”

Ying looked up and found Chi and all the seventy peasants from his village surrounded by Chungan troops.
 
They were still holding their weapons but were outnumbered.

The Elder sneered at Ying.
 
“Now, then.
 
You will come willingly under my custody until I can think of how best to dispose of you.”

“And why would I even entertain your demands?”

“Because,” the Elder
said,
his eyes wide with what appeared to be madness, “it is only on that condition that I will spare the lives of your people.”

Chi shouted, “Ignore him, Ying!
 
We’ll not allow these fools to take this kingdom without a taste of our fury!”
 

Ying understood.
 
Chi had always said that if Bai Kuo ever fell, its surrounding villages outside the citadel would be next.
 
And the closest was Xingjia, their home.
 

Fight now or die later.

“It appears I have no choice in the matter, Elder,” Ying said with a smile directed at his old friend.
 
Chi smiled back, knowing full well they were about to die.
 
“Our commander has spoken.”

The Elder’s face twisted with annoyance.
 
“Know that whether I kill you all now, or later, you have failed utterly.
 
Even now, Chungan legions have entered the citadel with orders to kill every male adult and child, and keep whichever females they fancy as slaves.”

And with that, Chi’s men let out a mighty shout and began to fight any enemy within reach.

Two Xingjia peasants fell immediately.

Ying flew up to join the fight, but it was hopeless.
 
At this rate, they would be finished within seconds of his arrival.

“Take heart, brothers!” Chi called out as he swung his sword and struck a Chungan’s.
 
“Fight for your wives…!

                                  
…For your children!

                                           
…For Valhandra!”

Then, at the very mention of His name, thunder pealed.
 
A powerful heat scorched the back of Ying’s neck.
 
Still aloft, he turned around and beheld the most terrifying and beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

From within the flames that stretched up at least three stories in height, something that resembled massive wings of fire stretched outward.

Then from its center—also ablaze—the crimson crest and golden beak of a wondrous bird.

When it had fully emerged, it let out a cry so loud and melodious that if it didn’t pierce your eardrums, it would make you weep at its beauty.