Ember: Kataklysm, #2

By T.R. Magnus and Theophilus Monroe

Two paths. A single journey.

 

Blaike isn't like any other Ember.

He commands the draugr.

Can an army of the dead defeat the Lightweaver's legion?

Ashathar's sunstone mines are exhausted.

Without sunstone, the blight will consume the Kingdom.

To save Ashathar, Blaike must confront the tyrant who killed his father.

Can Blaike and his draugr army rescue Ashathar from both tyranny and darkness?

Ming Yue is on a quest to recover a shield forged from Antaboga's scale—the scale the dragon-god shed when he created the world.

Batara Kala is preparing to launch a second Kataklysm.

The power of the dragon scale is the only thing that might thwart the efforts of the destroyer. Will it be enough?

To recover the shield, Yue must travel through the hostile blight, beyond what's charted on Ashatharian maps.

Will her elixirs sustain her through the blight?

Ember is the second book in Kataklysm, an action packed epic progression fantasy series. Fans of progression/cultivation epic fantasies, unique magic systems, and immersive epics like Will Wight's Cradle series or Brandon Sanderson's Stormlight Archive where the hero starts weak but gains power over time will also enjoy this expansive saga.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Theophilus Monroe
• Release date: Sep 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215133644

Book preview

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PART I

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CHAPTER ONE

A single onyx orb stood on a pedestal in front of Antaboga’s blue glowing image. The creator dragon, the deity who led pathwalkers from Ember to Luminary, once shed a single scale and seeded the world with life.

That’s the story both Blaike and Ming Yue were taught as children. Bedawang’s shell peaked from the oceans and created the Ashatharian continent. Antaboga’s scale and breath vivified the land. Barong and his nemesis, Rangda, emerged to guide the primitives toward virtue or vice, charity or avarice.

Blaike placed his hands on one side of the orb. Ming Yue did the same. Two Ashatharians from very different worlds. Blaike’s calloused hands evidenced a life spent working in the mines. Ming Yue’s soft hands were those of a noblewoman, a young brewer of elixirs, and the daughter of the late Lightweaver Boskoro.

The orb wasn’t large enough to accommodate two pairs of hands. Ming Yue’s overlapped Blaike’s. They felt like silk on Blaike’s calloused skin.

Blaike’s eyes met Ming Yue’s. A strand of her straight black hair fell over her golden face. Her features were delicate, but her expressions were strong. It was their eyes that revealed their pain. It was their pain that united them, perhaps more than their unique role as pathwalkers.

They were in mourning. Ming Yue lost both her father and her twin brother. Blaike lost his father, the hermit he’d always known as Taman, who had only just revealed his true identity. Taman was once the hero, Qal-Mal Tannen, the Lightweaver who had a right to Ashathar’s throne but refused to claim it. The one chosen by the gods to ascend, to harness the power of the sun, and cast it into the earth. He had been Ashathar’s savior. He gave his life clinging to the belief that Blaike—born Qal-Mal Flare—was destined for more.

Ming Yue’s father lost his life in Sudveil, when he and Blaike both arrived to save Ming Yue from the gallows. A sentence pronounced by Lightweaver Dumadi, ratified by the College of Radiants, for her unauthorized pursuit of the path. It wasn’t her fault. She’d been force-fed the Ember elixir that catalyzed her change. It was an elixir she’d brewed. Dumadi used her as bait. He knew Boskoro would come to save his daughter.

Blaike saved Ming Yue while the Lightweavers fought in the public square. Blaike and Yue fled to Cintanesia to defend the people from Dumadi who soon arrived to claim their power for himself. Yue’s twin, Ming Eka, fought valiantly alongside unlikely allies—a small Ashatharian legion loyal to the Ming clan, the Cintanesians, a group of rogue pathwalkers called the Guardians. The half-Tensian Lightweaver, Glimmer, helped. During the battle, at Antaboga’s direction, Blaike raised his blade and an army of draugr responded to his command. The monstrosities fought off Dumadi’s legion. They defended Cintanesia. Now, the city was celebrating the victory.

Victories never come free. It was more than mourning that Blaike and Yue shared. It was solitude. They’d both lost the only families they ever knew. They weren’t alone. They had supporters. Glimmer was technically Blaike’s aunt. A young Radiant, Kirana, now carried Qal-Mal Tannen’s sunstone blade. She pledged Blaike her support.

Ming Yue had Farrel. Like Blaike, Farrel was a former miner. Farrel’s affection for Ming Yue was easy to recognize—but he’d robbed her of her choice when he force-fed her the Ember elixir that set her on the path. Under the threat of the sword, he led Dumadi to Cintanesia. He pledged his support to Ming Yue, to defend Cintanesia, to accompany the young brewer as she followed her path.

Not that Ming Yue didn’t want to be a pathwalker. She’d longed to engage the path. When Farrel gave her the elixir, he both violated her choice and liberated her from the traditions and dictates of the College of Radiants. She had competing feelings about Farrel. She cared about him, while many of his decisions enraged her. Even though she loved him, she hated him.

She barely knew Blaike—but he was the one who plunged his sunstone blade through Lightweaver Arif’s chest. He saved her from the gallows. He might have been a miner, presumed clanless, but he was the noble son of Qal-Mal Tannen. He was the rightful heir to the Ashatharian throne.

Blaike was her savior and a prince. Maybe that had something to do with the rush of warmth that spread across Ming Yue’s brow, the flutter in her chest, when their hands touched. Maybe it was their shared loss, their pain, that bound them together. Still more, perhaps it was that the gods chose the two of them to ascend on the path, to follow the path to a destination beyond what even the Lightweavers achieved.

To advance beyond the gods...

That’s what Barong promised Blaike and Yue alike when they were each taken into his vessel—the place where the deity dwelled in the flesh, somewhere in the sky. When they encountered him on the earth, he appeared as an emanation, a projection, of himself. Did the same apply to Antaboga, the dragon? Was he a dragon at all, or was that merely the appearance he took when he showed himself?

Were they even gods? They were ascended beings from another world. What makes one a god? How far must one advance before one ceases to be mortal? Even the Lightweavers could die—if not by a sunstone blade, then by old age.

Ascension beyond mortality might be possible. There was no advancement that could cure the pangs of loss. Not even the gods were immune to pain.

Beads of sweat accumulated on Blaike’s brow. Entertaining any attraction to Ming Yue was out of the question. They were both in mourning. Their emotions were volatile—untrustworthy and open to regrettable manipulation. They were also destined to part ways. Barong told Blaike as much—their paths would intersect from time-to-time, their destination may or may not be the same, but their journeys were unique.

That’s why they approached Antaboga in the Cintanesian temple. It’s why their hands met on the orb that was supposed to invoke the dragon god’s presence.

The temples in Ashathar were different. Old, dusty, and neglected. These temples were clean, uncluttered, and frequently attended. The matching rows of pews on either side of the chapel suggested modest but frequent gatherings. The Cintanesians weren’t only advanced; they were committed to their religion. They revered the gods not as a pretense to justify their imperial ambitions, but from a place of genuine devotion. Something that until now Blaike hadn’t believed existed since the fall of Tensia, when Boskoro murdered Queen Valoria, forced Tannen into hiding, and reneged on the deal with the Tensians—one that exchanged guidance on the path for a regular supply of sunstone.

The orb released a pulse of energy. The dark ball glowing blue from the power that emanated within.

Meet me in the forests between Cintanesia and the Teeth of The Gods. It is time you each take your next steps toward Luminary.

Blaike looked up at Ming Yue. I guess he wants to talk in person.

Yue nodded. Perhaps there is something he’d like to show us in the forest.

Movement in Blaike’s peripheral vision near the chapel entrance caught his eye. He looked, but whoever was there was gone. Or the dragon-god is concerned about eavesdroppers.

Yue furrowed her brow. Wasn’t Aelfrid outside waiting for us? What could Antaboga tell us he wouldn’t want Aelfrid to know?

Blaike shrugged. I don’t think it’s Aelfrid who is listening in. I saw someone there by the entrance.

Yue took her hands off the orb and moved briskly down the aisle. She reached the chapel entrance and looked up and down the temple narthex as Blaike stepped up behind her.

Are you sure you saw someone? No one is here.

Blaike took a deep breath. I saw movement. Someone or something was there, I’m sure of it.

I would be careful about making any assumptions. Ever since I started on the path, I’ve seen things. Barong, mostly, leading me here.

Blaike nodded. He appeared to me as well. He wanted to be seen. Whoever was watching us was trying to be discreet. I doubt it was Barong.

There’s only one way in and out of the temple. If anyone’s been here, and Aelfrid is still outside, he’ll know.

Blaike nodded and brushed past Yue as the two Embers exited the temple. Aelfrid was still sitting on the bench where he was when Blaike and Yue entered the temple.

Aelfrid, who just left the temple?

Aelfrid tilted his head. No one has come or gone since you arrived.

I saw someone. They were spying on us.

Who did you see?

Blaike took a deep breath and shook his head. I only saw them out of the corner of my eye. When I looked, they were gone.

I looked up and down the temple and saw no one, Yue added. Is it possible there was someone in the temple already before us?

Aelfrid nodded. Certainly. Though if that’s the case, they’re still inside. If anyone left the temple, I’d have noticed.

Blaike grunted. Alright. Can you keep an eye on the exit? We’ll check out the various chapels.

Yue and Aelfrid exchanged glances. They both shrugged. Only Blaike saw something, and it was fleeting. It was more than a shadow. He saw something and knew it.

The Cintanesian temple had three chapels. One dedicated to Antaboga, another for Barong, and third dedicated to Bedawang.

Blaike checked all of them—twice. Yue did the same. No one was in the temple.

Blaike clenched his fists. He touched the hilt of his sunstone blade. The power within it amplified his senses. I don’t understand. Who could disappear like that? Someone was there!

Yue nodded. I believe you. There’s no sense dwelling on it. Antaboga wants us to meet him in the forest. Perhaps he can shed some light on what’s going on.

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CHAPTER TWO

Blaike and Ming Yue left the temple and pressed their way through the crowd. The feast and celebration continued and probably would through the night. They rebuffed Lightweaver Dumadi’s attack. People died, but not a single Ashatharian legionnaire breached the city walls. Aelfrid followed the two Embers and let them out of the city gates.

The battlefield was still littered with corpses—mostly Ashatharian. Ming Eka’s body was already brought inside. He’d receive a hero’s funeral. He deserved it. He stood with Cintanesia against Ashathar. No one had dreamed of restoring Ashathar to glory more than Ming Eka. He hoped to win the battle and march on Ashathar with the eventual goal of reclaiming the throne with Blaike as the new king. That was going to have to wait.

The Cintanesians were Barong’s children. Sheltered by the northern mountains, they lived in peace for centuries. Their sunlight orbs produced heat which filled the balloons that sent them over the skies. The mountains were high enough that the orbs had never escaped. The winds swirled in the valley, keeping the lands lit and thriving.

The Cintanesians released a hundred or more orbs after the battle. With a Lightweaver like Dumadi waging war on the city, the Cintanesians retained them until Dumadi left the valley. A Lightweaver could steal the light and use the power against Cintanesia. Now, the orbs gave Blaike and Yue enough light to navigate the forests ahead.

The Cintanesians survived the Kataklysms and endured through innovation and ingenuity. The Tensians, Antaboga’s offspring, embraced spiritual pursuits. The Ashatharians emerged after the first Kataklysm—the product of a union between the children of Bedawang and Batara Kala—the destroyer and author of the Kataklysms. Ashathar pursued glory through military might. The Ashatharian theologians argued the westerly wind that blasted across the continent was Antaboga’s breath. A divine mandate to expand the empire across the known world.

The theologians were wrong. Antaboga had nothing to do with Ashatharian aspirations. Even before the latest Kataklysm, when Ashathar’s sun went dormant, the empire struggled to overtake the Tensians in the east. The Tensians knew the secrets of the Lightweaver path. Prior to the Kataklysm, the Ashatharians knew nothing of advancement. In the fifty years since, the path was the only thing that saved Ashathar from extinction. It also prevented the empire’s expansion.

Ashathar was confined to Sudveil. Large spires, powered by sunstone channeled into them by the Ashatharian Lightweavers, illuminated the land. Now that the sunstone mines were nearly depleted, it was only a matter of time before Lightweaver Dumadi returned to Cintanesia with the full force of his legions.

If Ashathar didn’t change its ways, the Cintanesians refused to share their knowledge. Dumadi was one of only two Lightweavers in Ashathar. Lisna had only just ascended from Radiant. Dumadi murdered Ashathar’s king in the public square. Such acts rarely inspire loyalty. The Ashatharians would follow him by necessity. They needed him to power the spires. It would take too long for Lisna to master her new skills. Would she support Dumadi’s coup, or would she challenge his authority? Did she have the support to do it as a new Lightweaver? Ming Yue knew her well—she was an honorable woman. She surely wouldn’t be pleased to follow Dumadi, especially after he’d murdered both King Novac and Qal-Mal Tannen.

Even so, Lisna was faced with the same problem that Dumadi sought to address. Without sunstone, Ashathar was doomed. Even if she didn’t want to, she might have little choice but to lend her support as a Lightweaver to Dumadi’s agenda.

Blaike was on edge as he and Yue entered the forest. It was likely that a few Ashatharian scouts remained in the area to monitor things. Then again, they were fresh off a defeat. There weren’t many survivors when Dumadi flew away, retreating with his sunstone blade.

Ming Yue was more relaxed. One would think a young woman raised in relative luxury would feel out of place in a forest. There were probably creatures in the flourishing woods of Cintanesia that died out in the blighted south. There were large mammoths in the region. Most of them docile—unless they saw you as a threat. Their tusks could be deadly. There were venomous snakes in abundance. Prior to the Kataklysm, the adder bite was one of the leading causes of death in the empire. There were probably deadly animals in the region that never made it south into Ashathar, even in the prior era. Old Ashathar’s legions often slaughtered beasts large enough to pose a threat within their borders. Neither Blaike nor Yue lived in those days, but everyone had heard stories. Taman often spoke about the old world. Ming Yue not only studied Old Ashathar in her books, but her father told tales about the beasts he and his fellow legionnaires hunted back in the day.

Ming Yue whistled an Old Ashtatharian tune as she strolled past Blaike on the trail.

You’re really unphased by this, aren’t you? I haven’t seen a forest like this in my entire life. You act like a stroll through the woods is commonplace.

Yue chuckled. It’s wondrous, isn’t it? We’re Ember now, Blaike. Our bodies are resilient. There’s very little out here that could harm us, much less kill us.

Blaike huffed. It was going to take some time to get used to being an Ember. Yue was right, of course. They were stronger and more resilient than before. That didn’t mean they could survive if trampled by a herd of mammoths. Blaike didn’t know the limits of his new constitution. It did not incline him to test those limits, either. I suppose you’re right, but it doesn’t make us invincible. Besides, I’m not in the mood to whistle.

I’m not in the mood to sit and mope. Yue turned around and pressed her closed fists onto the crest of her hips. My father might have had his flaws, but he gave his life trying to save me. Eka died a hero. Forgive me if I choose to whistle a celebratory song.

I don’t recognize the tune, Blaike said. What is it?

Yue rolled her eyes. You wouldn’t appreciate the words. The gods know I don’t. Still, it’s catchy. It’s a diddy about how the breath of Antaboga spreads Ashathar’s glory, how it scalds their enemies and carries the mighty into the unknown.

All those years, and Ashathar never even charted the easternmost limits of our continent on the map. So much for the great empire and her glory.

Yue chuckled. Ashathar didn’t even know that Cintanesia existed. For centuries these blessed people lived here in peace.

That’s because Barong protected Cintanesia. He shielded them from Ashathar. The people were even beyond Batara Kala’s destructive reach.

Yue scratched her head. That’s not really true. The world only has one sun. The Kataklysm might not have devastated Cintanesia, but it certainly impacts their economy.

Blaike tilted his head. How so?

Their brightest and best chemists must dedicate their energies to producing sunlight. That’s effort that they can’t devote toward new discoveries, developing advanced elixirs, and the like. Batara Kala might not afflict Cintanesia the way he has destroyed Ashathar time and time again, but he’s slowed their progress.

"Would it make much of a difference otherwise? Barong and Antaboga hope we’ll ascend to a level beyond the Lightweavers, that we’ll become something that might even threaten the Dreadlord who destroyed their first homes. Do you really think that Cintanesian science is the answer?"

"I don’t know. Can you say for certain that it isn’t? I’ve brewed elixirs that can initiate advancement on the path. We could go back and take