Chapter Thirty-Six: Dance of Flames

  Ash gritted his teeth as he ducked beneath claws wreathed in brilliant flames. The wolves snarled with unbridled rage and hate, their growls reverberating through the mine's confines. Their black fur absorbed the firelight, making them appear like living shadows crowned with flame. The scent of smoke and singed fur filled his nostrils, bitter and acrid.

  He rolled away to create distance, his elar making him hyper-aware of every sensation. The rocky ground scraped against his palms, small stones cutting into his skin. The heat from the wolves' fire-wreathed paws warmed the air around them, creating shimmering distortions that made their movements seem almost ethereal.

  Ash planted his feet, preparing to strike at the nearest wolf. Its eyes reflected the flames that crowned its paws, giving it a demonic appearance. As he shifted his weight forward, a high-pitched growl cut through the air, and his thoughts lit up with urgent warning. His heart stuttered as he realized one of the wolves had separated from the pack, crouching low with muscles tensed, ready to pounce on Lilith.

  "No!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Fear and protective rage surged within him. Drawing elar from his elan, Ash felt the cold winter energy flowing through him as he manifested his enhancement technique: frost dragon wings. The icy appendages materialized from his back in a swirl of crystalline mist. Like a summoned winter storm, frost lashed out from him in waves, and thin layers of rime covered the three wolves before him. The flames dancing around their paws flickered uncertainly, fighting against the sudden cold that threatened to extinguish them.

  The wolf closest to Lilith hesitated, momentarily confused by the sudden drop in temperature. That brief pause was all Ash needed. He dashed forward, his boots crunching on the frost-covered ground, blade raised high. Lilith rose to her haunches, her small wings flapping in agitation, claws flexing as she prepared to defend herself.

  The wolf recovered its resolve and pounced toward Lilith, jaws open wide to reveal rows of gleaming teeth.

  Ash's sword slashed through the air. There was a slick sound of skin and fur parting, the blade meeting minimal resistance as it carved through the wolf's neck. A rush of energy flooded into him as the creature's life force dissipated, followed by a spray of blood that spattered across the frost-covered ground in stark crimson contrast. The heavy thud of the wolf's corpse hitting the stone floor echoed through the mine.

  Lilith's eyes flicked behind him, her thoughts sounding a warning in his mind like the tolling of a bell. The sensation of danger prickled along his spine. However, he was already whirling around; with his elar heightening his hearing, he could easily pick out the soft padding of paws on the rocky ground of the mine, the subtle click of claws against stone.

  The remaining wolves approached cautiously now, wary of the frost that radiated from him. Their eyes reflected a primal intelligence, calculating their chances. It was a mistake for them to continue. Ash extended his wings to their full span, crystalline patterns of frost spreading from where they connected to his back. He flapped them with an effort of will, sending a wave of ice to cover the wolves further. Their snarls of frustration built as the cold intensified, their lupine eyes squinting as the fire surrounding their paws dimmed and struggled against the encroaching frost.

  Then, a howl from deeper within the mine filled the air, a terrible battle cry that made the hair on the back of Ash's neck stand on end. The sound carried power with it, ancient and primal. As if responding to a command, the wolves' flame-wreathed claws intensified suddenly, burning through the frost that had begun to gather on their limbs. The air warped further with heat, and his frost could no longer contain them.

  "Light's breath," Ash cursed, his stomach tightening with renewed tension. Moving his blade to a sideways hold, he ran forward, ducking and weaving around the first two wolves. Their teeth snapped at air where he had been moments before. He drew a trickle more elar from his core, hoping to further hinder the wolves with cold as it spread from his body.

  The third wolf rose on its hind legs, bringing its flaming claws down upon Ash in a vicious swipe. The heat from the flames would have singed his skin and set his clothes alight, but thanks to his fire-resisting potion, he felt nothing more than a gentle warmth. With a twist of his body, Ash turned away from the blow, his muscles responding with enhanced speed. His sword fell through the air like a striking bird, catching the light of the flames as it descended. The blade cleaved through the wolf's neck in one fell cut, separating head from body.

  The wolf's corpse toppled to the ground with a heavy thud, its head tumbling forward across the stone. Blood leaked from the severed neck, pooling around the fallen creature and filling the air with its metallic scent.

  Ash intensified the draw on his elar, his frost dragon wings bathing the area around him in a blue-white glow as the temperature plummeted further. Energy flooded his elan as he absorbed power from the fallen wolf, more of that same wild forest feeling joining the winter essence within his core. It felt like drinking cool water after a long day of work, refreshing and invigorating.

  The remaining two wolves tried to attack him, circling and lunging from different directions, but they were noticeably slowed by the cold. Their flames did little against the intensifying frost, and their black fur became coated in thick ice that crackled with their every movement. Their once-fluid motions became jerky and restricted.

  Ash calmly dispatched them one by one, his blade cutting through their ice-encrusted bodies with practiced precision. Their energy poured into his elan with each killing blow, feeding his power. When the last wolf fell, he stood amid the carnage, breathing heavily more from the exertion of drawing so much elar than from physical fatigue.

  When the battle was done, with corpses and blood covering the floor, he sheathed his blade with a smooth motion and then went over to Lilith. His concern for her overrode his satisfaction at their victory.

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  "Are you hurt?" he asked, kneeling beside her and reaching out to inspect her small form for injuries.

  She clawed at his hand indignantly, her pride clearly wounded at the suggestion she might need assistance. Standing tall on her hind legs, she walked away from him with her head held high, her tail swishing in annoyance.

  Laughing at her display of dragon pride, Ash shook his head. "Fine, you're clearly too mighty to need my help. But you'd let me know if you were really hurt, right?"

  She sniffed dismissively, then blew out a puff of smoke that curled in the cold air. Her green eyes gleamed with satisfaction at their victory. Ash chuckled, lowering himself to sit cross-legged on the ground. His body still hummed with the foreign elar he had absorbed from the wolves, and he knew he needed to adapt it before moving on.

  He closed his eyes, focusing inward to find his elan. The familiar orb of winter power glowed within his mind's eye, surrounded by wisps of wild forest energy he had absorbed from the wolves. He began to pull the foreign elar through his elan as he breathed, feeling the wild essence gradually changing its nature to match his own winter power.

  When the process was complete, he examined his elan critically. The orb had grown slightly larger, as it had the last time he had adapted, but nothing significant. Still, any growth was welcome.

  Ash stretched his limbs, feeling the pleasant burn of exertion mingled with the satisfaction of victory. He decided to begin processing the wolves' remains and then call it a day. The dire wolf could wait until tomorrow; pushing further when tired would be foolish.

  Returning to the entrance where they had left their belongings, he retrieved his pack and brought it into the first room where the wolf corpses lay. He pulled out two large bags, stuffing one into the other to create a thicker, more durable container that wouldn't leak blood through its fibers. Next, he pulled out a knife with a serrated edge, then grimaced as he surveyed the gory task ahead. This was going to be bloody, disgusting work.

  He approached the nearest wolf corpse, its black fur now dusted with frost from his technique. First, he cut out the claws, blood already getting everywhere and staining his hands in sticky crimson. He picked one up, bringing it closer to his eye so he could study it in the dim light of the mine.

  Twitching his mouth sideways for a moment, Ash couldn't immediately see why the claw was special or valuable. It looked like an ordinary, if large, animal claw. But he knew from his studies that it wasn't what you could see but rather what the claw did when properly utilized. Monster parts released elar into potions, oils, and other alchemical concoctions, imbuing them with properties that couldn't be achieved through normal means.

  He placed the claw into a clear glass container with a stopper and did the same for all the others, their clinking against the glass creating an oddly satisfying sound. The container grew heavier with each addition, a tangible measure of his success.

  Next came the more gruesome part. Dead lupine eyes stared up at him, vacant yet somehow still accusing. Ash couldn't keep a disgusted look from contorting his face at the thought of what he was about to do. He wasn't a stranger to gross tasks; farm life had required him to become familiar with butchering animals and other unpleasant chores.

  But he had never cut out the eyes of a monster that had tried to kill him before. There was something more personal about it, more unsettling.

  Taking a deep breath, he grasped the knife firmly and plunged it into the socket, turning his lip up at the squelch of blood and the wet, metallic scent that assaulted his nostrils. The eye came free with a sickening pop that made his stomach turn despite his resolve.

  Minutes later, the task was done, and Ash plopped two eyeballs into the doubled-up bags, trying not to look too closely at them as they glistened wetly in the dim light.

  He hesitated at the next part, gathering his determination. It was time to cut out the heart, the most bloody part of the job. For this, he had brought a small saw, as he would likely need to cut through the rib cage to access the organ.

  "There's nothing for it," he muttered to himself, steeling his resolve. Lilith watched from a distance, her expression something between fascination and disgust.

  Ash got to work, which proved to be every bit as bloody and unpleasant as he had imagined. The saw teeth caught on bone, making a horrible grinding sound that set his teeth on edge. Blood sprayed and pooled, covering his hands and clothes despite his efforts to stay clean.

  But he had done it—one heart extracted and now resting in his hands, slick, red, and squishy. It was surprisingly heavy for its size, dense with muscle.

  He put it in the bag, trying not to think about how it still felt warm. There were seven more wolves to process, and the sky outside was beginning to darken. It would be a long night.

  When Ash was finally done, he was covered in blood from his hands to his elbows, with spatters across his clothes and even a few drops on his face. He needed a bath desperately; the metallic scent of blood clung to him, and his skin felt sticky and uncomfortable.

  He briefly considered tackling the rest of the mine but quickly dismissed the idea. He was starting to feel the fatigue of the day's efforts, his muscles protesting and his elar reserves lower than he'd like. He didn't want to die or let Lilith die just because he refused to rest when prudence dictated otherwise. The mine would still be here tomorrow; there was no need to rush.

  He and Lilith made the trek back to town, their footsteps heavy with exhaustion. The streets of Ivalia were quieter now, with most people having retired to their homes or the taverns for the evening. They headed directly to Skori's shop, hoping the dwarf would still be there.

  The bell above the door jingled as they entered, and Skori looked up from his workbench. His eyes widened at the sight of them, and he wrinkled his nose in obvious disgust.

  "By the Light, boy, you reek," he declared, setting down the tool he'd been using.

  Ash offered him a weary smile, too tired to take offense. "I wonder why?"

  Skori's expression softened slightly as Ash placed the container filled with wolf claws and the bag with the eyes and hearts on the counter. The dwarf's eyes brightened with professional interest as he examined the contents.

  "I wasn't expectin' so much on the first outing, boy! Good job!" he exclaimed, clearly impressed by Ash's haul.

  Ash shrugged modestly, though a small surge of pride warmed his chest at the praise. "None of them are from the dire wolf, but I hope to bag it tomorrow."

  Skori grunted, gesturing toward the back of his shop. "Ya'll find a scripted shower to the back, and I even have a washing script for clothes back there. Make use of them, yer stinkin' up my shop."

  Ash waved a dismissive hand, grateful for the opportunity to clean up. "Yeah, yeah," he said, heading to the back room.

  Lilith stayed up front, sitting primly in one of the chairs in the shop. She seemed content to watch Skori work while Ash cleaned himself.

  The shower was a welcome relief, the warm water washing away the blood and grime of the day's work. Ash watched as the water swirled crimson around his feet before disappearing down the drain. The washing script made quick work of his clothing, restoring them to a state cleaner than they had been in weeks.

  Feeling refreshed and somewhat human again, Ash returned to the front of the shop. The blood and gore were gone, but his muscles still ached from the day's exertions.

  "How much does all of that go for, anyway?" he asked, gesturing to the monster parts Skori was now examining more closely.

  Skori tugged thoughtfully on his beard, mentally calculating the value. "I'd say four silver is what yer lookin' at."

  Ash ran a hand through his damp hair, a small frown crossing his features. "Guess it was too much to hope for it just wiping out my debt."

  Skori laughed good-naturedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Not quite, boy. Ya have a little ways to go, but progress is progress."

  Ash nodded, taking comfort in the simple wisdom. Progress was indeed progress, and he'd made plenty today. Tomorrow would bring the dire wolf, and with it, hopefully, enough silver to clear his debt and put some coin in his pocket.

  As he and Lilith left the shop to find lodging for the night, Ash found himself looking forward to tomorrow's hunt with anticipation rather than dread. He was growing stronger every day, adapting more elar, improving his techniques. Soon, he would be ready for Wyrmhaven's entrance exam. And after that... well, after that, he would find the answers he sought.