Page 1 of Memory of Ashes

PART ONE

Chapter 1

“Look at these, Emin,” Amelia said.

The parchment trembled in her grip. She should have stopped copying them hours ago. The mountain had quivered when she found the symbols engraved on the cave wall. The memory lingered more vividly than the biting cold. She’d copied them, afraid the ground beneath her would open up, and now they sat on her desk, crudely inked in uneven lines.

Whenever she glanced away, her attention drifted back to them. The symbols flowed in graceful arcs and intersecting lines. She ran her fingers over the inconsistent shapes. A deep sense of familiarity stirred, as if she hovered at the edge of a memory or a forgotten dream, certain she had seen them before yet unable to remember where.

Emin rose from his desk and came over. His brow furrowed as he studied her rough scribbles.

“Have you seen anything like this before?” she asked.

“They resemble glyphs, but here, these…” The Lore Master stooped to trace one with his finger. “These are… different. Fascinating.”

“I’ve not seen anything like them before. I thought perhaps you might have, with all your experience?”

“Is that your polite way of saying I’m old?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

She gave a small huff.

“They’re unusual, right? I can’t find anything in the records that matches.” She paused, chewing on the end of her quill.

“You’ll have to come back to them. We’ve got a meeting at the palace. The sickness at the mines is getting worse.”

She exhaled slowly through her nose. The adventures she’d fantasised about when she joined the guild took a back seat to the meetings at the palace. Others seemed content with that, but the world waited to be uncovered.

“I wish they’d never found those remains,” she muttered. “Then we wouldn’t be dragged to these meetings.”

She gathered her things and donned the formal grey robes. Their long, flowing sleeves got in the way, while the bunched material around the neck felt like a hand at her throat.

She hurried past the initiates who crowded the halls of the Singing Stone Guild, weaving through them unnoticed, and joined Emin and the guild members outside.

The fading Blood Sun tinged the scattered white buildings of the city pink. The heavy fabric of her robes clung to her skin as the molten rays shone down upon her.

“Do they have to be so thick?” she asked, tugging at her collar, earning an eye roll from Emin.

Her excavator rank required them, but she preferred to wear simple trousers and shirts, especially as she was often working outdoors.

Squinting at the sun, she moved into the shadow of the guild’s headquarters, sheltering beneath the turrets that rose from the building at different levels. The sight stirred warm memories of visiting her father at work, when the enormous doors had dwarfed her as a child. They seemed smaller now.

They crossed the walled city. It was her home, yet sometimes she felt more familiar with the ruins she studied than the people in the streets.

Jasmine perfumed the air as they headed through the palace gardens. The refreshing spray from the fountain cooled her as she walked by.

As they entered the palace, guards ushered them towards the boardroom for the meeting. They were late.

“Close the mine,” the physician said.

They took their seats at the long stone table. Amelia shifted uncomfortably on the unforgiving stone seat.

“Absolutely not,” Councillor Cyrus said immediately.

Amelia caught Emin’s attention across the room and tried not to sigh. He was one of the few who could meet her eyes without hesitation.

“So many have fallen sick, my lord,” the miner said. “It’s spreading. Soon there’ll be none of us left to harvest the chrysonium.”

“If production drops much more, half the city will go dark.”