Ancients Legacy

Ash

Prologue:

All that remained of Silver Cove were smoking ruins; an entire town set to the torch and burned to
the ground until only blackened stone and ashes lingered as a reminder of what had once stood
here. There was a dead silence about, the terrifying force that had struck here left nothing alive;
single-mindedly savage in its purpose not a man, woman or child not even the chickens and livestock
had been spared from terrible butchery. Bodies and carcasses littered the streets and of the
structures of the once prosperous fishing town; nothing remained of the towns simple beauty only
blood, death and destruction on scale hardly imagined.
A storm had come and passed in the night as if fate sought to hide its all seeing eye from this
hideous sight and perhaps begin to wash clean the horror.

Morning would come with the sun rising with the new day and with it would come witnesses,
travellers unaware of the horror that awaited them. The silence and the smell of death; the buzz and
howl of scavengers come to feast upon the flesh of the dead, they would turn back rushing to call for
aid too late as the swift and terrible force made good its escape across the clear blue ocean.


Princess Alyssa Valerian, third and youngest child of King Darius Valerian woke with a start and yell,
drenched in a cold sweat she shivered with fear. Between terrified gasps of air she remembered
flashes of the nightmare; her fathers court was gone replaced by a dark parody littered with blood
and death. The blackened, broken and mercilessly mutilated corpses of courtiers scattered about the
dark hall in a vividly bloody tableau the princess could barely imagine is such detail.
Alyssa was not alone everywhere shadows moved seemingly of their own volition, she could feel an
awareness a terrible intelligence behind the moving darkness. Standing at the courts heart she
turned to face her fathers throne, but the stone seat was gone in its place a throne of bone and
blood and its terrible occupant.

The occupant was made of shadows rather than flesh, blood and bone, darkness shaped into the
form of an enormous man. Atop his head he wore a crown of night and he could see her, he had no
eyes to see but Alyssas instincts were certain he could see her.
He had no mouth to speak but a word was spoken nonetheless, in a thundering voice like an
avalanche of rocks crashing down a mountain slope he spoke,
MINE, the echoed evil in the Shadow-Kings voice sent shivers of terror down her spine and set her
heart racing with a deep primal fear. The other shadows laughed in voices less terrible but still
warped enough to chill her beating heart, revelling in the dark kings great will as his shadow spread
creeping ever closer.

Alyssa yelped when a cool hand touched her shoulder, she turned to face what horror stood behind
her; she was pleasantly surprised. The hand belonged to a being shaped of bright white light and
behind this amorphous entity stood many others luminous with pure light that cast back the terrible
night and its dark occupants.
What is done cannot be undone, the beings spoke in a single harmonious voice that was many,
what is not yet done can be avoided, the being pressed a hand to her forehead. Alyssa was shocked
as its vast presence touched her mind and woke her from nightmare screaming and gasping for
breath and with a certainty she knew,
All hope is not lost.
Chapter 1:

Malcolm watched from his shrouded alcove; every dawn he watched swordsmen clash, danced,
whirled and clashed again and again and again. Blades sparked, brilliant flashes of magic as
enchanted steel met enchanted steel.
How long has it been today? Alder quietly joined him,
Three hours, Malcolm absently answered his friend, the same as yesterday and the day before and
the day before that. Every day since...
He needs rest and time to grieve for his friend,
We all find our own way through the loss, perhaps this is simply how he chooses to deal with his.
You know what hes doing, dont you? Alder whispered caught somewhere between concern and
awe at the display; hed seen few enough who made the sword look like a dance.
I know,
Its not healthy, Alder worried, this relentless focus,
Hes young, hell survive.

The word spread like wildfire. An array of at best ambiguous feelings swept through the community
like a tidal wave in the wake of the unexpected news. A thousand emotions played out again and
again, confusion, anger, fear, hatred even joy and love; hearts and minds at war with themselves. It
reached into every corner of city from the highest echelons of power to lowest of servants, it even
reach the ears of those whose tended to be oblivious of such things.

Ash remembered little beyond the fear and the pain, there were questions; words that meant little
to a broken soul more animal than man. Reason nothing more than a dim memory of a humanity
driven out by the cruelty of his fellow man, crushed beneath an iron boot heel of self-righteousness.
In the end Ash prayed for death; begged for an end to his suffering, but his tormentors knew their
jobs too well. They kept him alive just enough to wish he was dead.
Ash should have seen the shackle coming, an accomplished young artisan; newly minted Grey Knight
and a former assassin in training, few possessed the skills and fewer still possessed the motivation.
What little power theyd left to him was futile in the face of the combined skills of mages far more
practiced in the mystical arts She is impressive, Ash stopped. For a moment he wondered how
Marek had come this close undetected. She is everything I imagine a warrior princess should be. A
spirited natural beauty, strong and proud, she has the spark of a born leader and her speech
regal eloquent.
It could just as easily be a trick,
The seers say no, was Mareks unruffled reply,
The seers have been wrong before, Ash countered,
And they will be wrong again, but it seems not this day.
I still dont like it, Ash shot back, the storm of his emotions welling up threatening his already
tenuous control. Quickly as it had risen he squelched the anger beneath a blanket of iron discipline,


Caleb Varros spell-journals had been a godsend, a veritable treasure trove of invaluable ideas Ash
had only begun to skirt the edges of. Exotic concepts more than worthy of one of the most eccentric
minds Haven had ever been privileged to produce. Every line spoke of an elegance of thought Ash
despite his best efforts had yet to master, but he was nothing if not a hood student.


We once served the same master,
That which you serve is no longer that which we serve,

Ash (Sorrow)

Marcus Varro
Aldus Grey (Founder of the Grey knights, Ascended)

Caleb Rivers (Frost)
Cara Rivers (Flare)

Alana Vadis (Siren)

Marek Raines (Senior Grey Knight; Kyles mentor)

Alana Valerian (older)
Alyssa Valerian