The Ashes of Worlds

On a barren hilltop far outside of Mijistra, Daro’h ached as he observed the sprawling shape of the glorious city. In the distance, the faeros continued to bombard the Ildiran capital.

To save as many of his people as possible, the Prime Designate had commanded a mass exodus, ordering all kiths to flee into the countryside while fireballs continued to hover over the skyline. Crowds of refugees streamed into the open hills, following rivers, looking for places to hide. Several Solar Navy warliners cruised low to the ground, delivering more survivors and supplies.

Next to Daro’h, Yazra’h also stared at the spectacle, her eyes like hard chips of topaz. His sister’s mane of long, coppery hair drifted in the breeze. “Clustering together makes the people vulnerable. They have no defenses if the faeros decide to incinerate them. They cannot fight.” Although one of her Isix cats had been burned to death during Rusa’h’s conquest, the remaining two prowled around her legs.

“So far the faeros have not chosen to attack,” Daro’h said. “I must postulate — I mustbelieve — that annihilating the Ildiran people does not serve the faeros plans. Rusa’h seems to be in control of them. He wants something more — the Mage-Imperator, perhaps.”

But their father was not on Ildira. In fact, no one knew where Jora’h was.

Yazra’h crossed her arms over her chest. “Nevertheless, I will not letyou stay in one of the open camps or exposed villages, Prime Designate.”

“You want me to hide.”

She gave him a hard look. “I want you tosurvive. I swore an oath to protect you.” With the Mage-Imperator missing, Ildirans had no one else to look to; Daro’h was their de facto leader.

Yazra’h had found a set of deep caves and mining tunnels in the mountains not far from Mijistra. “I have chosen the best defensive location I can. Adar Zan’nh is anxious to take you there.” She glanced uneasily up at the sky. “He feels you are too vulnerable out here, and so do I.”

Daro’h held his overwhelmed emotions in check, so they would not bleed into thethism. “Although it pains me to surrender our city to the faeros, we must choose our battles wisely.” He took a last look at the troop carriers and supply streamers crisscrossing the skies. “I will do as you suggest. Summon the Adar.”

Riding aboard a small, swift cutter, Daro’h sat next to one of the windows, staring out at the landscape, shocked by how much it had changed. Osira’h and her half-breed siblings had joined him as well, singed and bedraggled but very much alive.

“We are establishing as many camps as we can,” Zan’nh reported, piloting the cutter himself. “The Solar Navy is delivering food, medical supplies, tools, and prefabricated shelters.”

The Adar had already learned that his warliners could not fight the blazing ships directly; to extinguish a single fireball, he had sacrificed two warliners with their full crews. Now only five warliners remained of the septa he had brought to Ildira. The rest of the Solar Navy, the ragged remnants of his cohorts that had survived the climactic battle against the hydrogues, were dispersed thinly across the Ildiran Empire to watch over all the splinter colonies. Tabitha Huck and her work crews had been rapidly assembling new warliners in the orbiting industrial facilities when Rusa’h had arrived.

And so Zan’nh had explicitly instructed the captains of his few ships trapped at Ildira not to engage the faeros in direct conflict. Solar Navy ships returning from their routine patrols received transmitted orders to station themselves at the edge of the star system, waiting for an opportunity to move. They could not win, and he could not risk losing more warliners. Daro’h knew how much it galled Adar Zan’nh to issue those “cowardly” orders; nevertheless, the warliner captains obeyed and kept their large vessels ready — and safe.

“With your permission, Prime Designate, one of my captains has requested to take a warliner filled with refugees and attempt to flee this planet.” Zan’nh turned from his piloting controls. “We can load ten thousand of them from the most exposed camps and fly them to safety.”

Daro’h considered. “That warliner would not be able to return. Can we afford to lose it?”

“My warliners cannot fight the faeros, Prime Designate. At least this could save ten thousand lives.”

“Then it is a good choice. Tell the captain he has my blessing to make the attempt.”

The cutter flew toward the barren cliffs, and Daro’h saw small holes in the overhangs, caves accessed by wide gravel roads laid down centuries ago by digger kithmen. They landed on a broad rocky ledge. “Tal O’nh and Hyrillka Designate Ridek’h are already in the tunnels,” Zan’nh reported. “They have begun to set up the necessary equipment for our new command center.”

Daro’h emerged from the craft, looking in dismay at the round tunnel that was to be their new home for now. Yazra’h gave him a scolding look before he could say anything. “For all its magnificence, the Prism Palace is merely a structure. Remember,you are the Prime Designate.You are currently our leader.You matter more than Mijistra.”

Daro’h tried to convince himself that it was true. He had to make sure he was worthy of that faith in him.

11

Faeros Incarnate Rusa’h

Rusa’h settled into his rightful place like a bright coal at the heart of a blazing bonfire. With its towers, minarets, and gemlike ceilings, the Prism Palace was meant to be his — not for his own ambitions, but for the Ildiran race. and for the resurrection of the faeros and the bright igniting of the universe. Rusa’h had taken action for his people, for Ildira, for all those who had lost their way to the Lightsource.

Once he was ensconced in what remained of the skysphere, his power should have begun spreading like wildfire. He had tried to weave anotherthism web, to save some Ildirans by the necessary purging and sacrifice of others. But this new victory was not what Rusa’h had expected. Though bright soul-threads bound him to the faeros and the Ildiran people under his care, he still felt alone.

Although the faeros had helped him, they wanted more. always more. Every combustible object in the Palace had already burned. If he gave them free rein, the fireballs would surge across the landscape consuming everything, stealing every Ildiran soulfire they could find in order to spark new young faeros. He did his best to prevent a total Armageddon.

Rusa’h had shown the flaming elementals how to defeat the hydrogues. He was the faeros incarnate, but he was also the savior of the Ildiran Empire.

At the moment, his faeros were sweeping around the Spiral Arm to reclaim their cold, dead stars. The fiery elementals had already extinguished a major concentration of wentals on Charybdis and, thanks to the discovery Rusa’h had shown them, newborn faeros had raced along soul-threads ofthism /telink to Theroc. The battle with the worldtrees was already raging, burning. burning.