Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Map
Chapter 01
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04
Chapter 05
Chapter 06
Chapter 07
Chapter 08
Chapter 09
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Lexicon
About the Author
Ashes to Embers
Book One of The Rise of the Phoenix
Michelle Schad
ASHES TO EMBERS
Copyright © 2019 by Corrugated Sky Publishing, LLC
Copyright © 2019 by Michelle Schad
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information visit :
http://www.corrugatedsky.com
http://www.tamingchaos.net
Book design by Michelle Schad
Cover design by Neil Que
ISBN: 9 7 8 0 9 9 8 2 6 0 5 9 4
First Edition: April 2019
For everyone who encouraged me to keep writing, to keep
going, to keep playing.
This is for you.
Chapter One
Shouts echoed just outside of Bayt Allas, the local thieves’ guild in the port city of Manau. Some were jeers and boos, while others cheered at the spectacle carried out before them. Reven Si’ahl did not like the sound of either, shoving his way through the throngs of people in time to see a whip crack across his partner, Liam Roe’s, face. The duende man hissed sharply, falling to a knee in front of a copper-skinned woman that hung limp and bloodied against a wooden post, bare from the waist up. The woman’s back was a horrid mess of open wounds and gaping flesh. The hakimu raised the whip again with intent to bring it down on Liam’s head but found himself staring into Reven’s rage-filled eyes. The snap of leather echoed into sudden silence. Reven wrenched the weapon from the hakimu’s hands and threw it on the ground, practically snarling as he did so. If he registered the pain that the lash caused on his arm, he did not show it, letting the blood drip to the ground over his fingers..
“How dare you!” the hakimu growled. “Insolent pig!”
“Spare me, you sadistic half-wit!” Reven barked.
“Neither of us are yours to punish! We are not part of your guild!”
“You…” the tall human bristled. “I will punish whom-ever I wish! Your whore of a woman stole from our house!”
Dealings in the city of Manau needed to be carried out lightly. Liam taught Reven that. Step wrong, and the humans that populated the coastal town would tear you apart as a sacrifice to their "mortal gods" or sell you to the first ship of slave traders that happened in to port. Despite living in Manau for nearly a year, Reven still had difficulty understanding the mortal gods that the western nations worshiped, for he had never heard of such a thing. Some things were more difficult for him to understand than others. There was precious little that the furious bard remembered of his life before traveling with Liam and Ajana, the woman tied to the post behind him. For all intents and purposes, they had rescued him from himself; he needed to pay the favor back in kind, so he stood his ground like a complete fool in front of the hakimu.
“And what business could require such brutal torture, Mahrvain?”
The new voice made the large crowd part with muttered whispers and heads down. A large man that Reven knew to be the guild master waddled through with his retainer right on his heels. He ignored them, helping Liam to his feet. The tanned olven man’s face bled, a gash just shy of his left eye. Nothing could be done while so many watched; it would attract too much attention. Reven pulled a kerchief from his pocket all the same and gave it to Liam.
Mahrvain was known to be brutal. Those that crossed him were often found nailed to wooden spikes and displayed for the town to see. Reven had been on the receiving end of Mahrvain’s wrath more than once with the scars to remind him not to cross the man. The scars did not work as intended, as was evidence by Reven's current situation.
“What did she steal?” Reven dared to ask in a low whisper for Liam’s pointed ear only. Mahrvain spoke with the guild master, gesticulating wildly, with spittle flying from his lips in rage.
“Dunno. Came in too late t’hear tha’ part. A'ready done his damage. He’d have kept goin’ too if I’d not stepped in.”
Reven only shook his head. Ajana had a knack for landing the men in vats of boiling water. They often joked that it was her greatest talent. She was also the best thief-taker Reven had met. She was better than Liam, who prided himself on holding the title of Master Thief-Taker in four different nations. This time however, Ajana had gone too far.
“...insolent pig interfered!” Mahrvain spat. The guild master turned to acknowledge Reven with new eyes. The fair-skinned olven man stood his ground, silently daring the portly man to take Mahrvain’s side. There would be little he could do if the guild master did side with Mahrvain. Still, Reven had enough gall to meet the man eye-to-eye all the same.
“You still have not named the item you claim the woman stole from you, Mahrvain,” the guild master said calmly. He, like the hakimu, was tall with skin so dark it rivaled the color of the night sky. As was custom within the nation of Kalaegh, regardless of the city, the people painted their dark features in vibrant colors with each pattern symbolizing their status, wealth, or tribe. The guild master wore paint across his brows and along the tops of his hands. Mahrvain wore two bright red dots on his high cheekbones and a series of bright yellow dots down the bridge of his
