Ashka

Ashka lived a fairly peaceful and calm childhood. Her parents were owners of some big plots of land, making their family be somewhat on the rich side, not quite like royalty but pretty close. Due to this, Ashka grew oblivious to a lot of problems brewing around them, like the very real threat of civil wars and ever-growing poverty in some of the biggest villages (now on their way to become full-on cities). He grew up in his own bubble of innocence, ignorant to all the loss and pain that could be hidden at every corner, but that wouldn’t come to hunt them until much much later. For now, when she finally was ready to go out into the world, she did so as she was taught, with polite manners and kind words and ,above all, evading all possible trouble.

Once Ashka became old enough, she started managing the land along with her parents, although that mostly meant going out into cities and villages to buy products for them and find suitable workers. He quickly became quite knowledgeable of his surroundings, especially that of markets around big cities, and of course, of its merchants. There was one shop that stood out to Ashka, a small outlet almost at the edge of some far off market that sold all sorts of things related to witchcraft and supposed magic. Now, Ashka wasn’t really the sort to believe in all that stuff, and less the kind of fellow to actually buy into the lies they told, plus, she had already seen a fair share of shops just like this one, some even bigger and with a lot more interesting and shiny brand new stuff; but there was one thing that kept her coming back to that little corner of the world: the store owner. She was a beautiful woman with a big passion for what she was doing and a love for everything in the world. Her name was Lylac.

They immediately clicked, spurring chats that extended all the way until nightfall, talks of faraway lands and mysterious trinkets, of strange people and even stranger homes, of every sight the world had to offer either from the comfort of a small market shop or the long winded walks of an adventurer. They became really good friends over the course of a couple years and eventually, ended up being lovers. Ashka learned how to do all kinds of witchcraft-y goods and rituals, even though she didn’t truly believe in them, she just liked to spend time with her lover. Lylac, on the other hand, went on all kinds of adventures around the world, enjoying her time along with the love of her life. Things were pretty good in the couple years they were together, like a honeymoon that seemed to never end, but there was something brewing on the sidelines, a threat that could very well be fatally dangerous, yet so very invisible to the eye and the mind distracted, that not one soul seemed to notice…

In those recent times, a rumor had started to rise, claiming that every single thing, object or person, that claimed to be even slightly in contact with anything supernatural was becoming increasingly threatening. This belief grew very acute with time and time, as a lot of religious organizations seemed to grow in size by the minute, and they seemed to be obtaining results with was seemed to be no more just a belief. A lot of these devoted people had been able to get all kinds of items, be it books or trinkets or even whole buildings, that actually seemed to alter the understanding of what was possible and what wasn’t. Some were able to raise whole cities in the blink of an eye, some brought fort creatures of light and good before unimaginable and some even challenged death. But all these things came with very expensive and gruesome prices. More and more villages turned out to be fully sacrificed from one night to the other in the name of rituals and knowledge. This had to be stopped.

No one warned a single soul when the prohibition came on, they just started killing everyone that seemed even slightly involved in anything magic. The first massacre was a bloodshed. That very same market that once was covered with blooming lilacs and white roses now found on every single corner of its bloody ground the body of a once flourishing life. Lylac was working on the market that very cruel day, but Ashka was out to see their bedridden and sickly old parents, to talk about something so very nonsensical and heartless as inheritance. When she finally heard the news, she felt like she couldn’t even believe it, like she couldn’t even begin to process the grief and loss because simply there shouldn’t be none to do so. He couldn’t even handle the idea of thinking about death, so he denied it, but never moved on from that, and never grew eventually into acceptance. Instead, they made a plan to retrieve a single artifact, one that had become quite famous in recent times, to the point of even being know by the usual normal everyday person: the “Soul-ashes”, one of the many relics that claimed to challenge and even revert death, but one that was almost surely guaranteed to work, if her eyes didn’t deceive her; for one time she stood right beside a funeral and saw the body rotten and mauled by the very earth rise again and greet the sunshine. That couldn’t be a lie, it mustn't.

And so she adventured, the pressing feeling of pure and utter loneliness becoming ever increasingly present by the minute, but that only served to fuel her every step. He reached the temple of sweet promises in less than a week and began to plan his attack on it and, of course, the very delicate heist. But they couldn’t plan for everything, and much less being overtaken by the urgency of having that part so purely vital to you back. One can’t think without a heart. And so, when the time came to put the plan in action, she did achieve what she was there for, the soul-ashes resting tenderly on their hands, yet not before she was struck with a horrible curse: her body shifted beneath her skin as her bones rearranged in odd positions and she felt a pure white fur grow under her face. Everything in him changed at once, taking so many different forms; that of a bird, or a rat, or a lion or something never before seen. And when it was over she didn’t even think about standing there, distracted by the change, instead bolting out of the place, getting used to her new self, thinking deep inside that this was the most terrible of fates, yet she will have to ponder that in another time.

Adjusting to the new physicality of hers didn’t take long, surprisingly. Coming to terms with what it really meant, in terms of her relation with the world and the people she knew and was to know, was what really took a toll in the pondering department. He spent a couple months in some far off woods, living off whatever the land was kind enough to offer. He learnt to hunt, gather and craft, all while that black vase full of possible lies but even sweeter promises stood proudly in the middle of it all, almost mockingly. She avoided every single chance she got to look at herself. They couldn’t bear it, still really can’t.

The first thing they did other than just surviving, the first step to go back to even a semblance of normal existence, was to finally try if the soul-ashes really did work. Things had calmed down since the first massacres, since most magic users were now either dead or hiding really well, but she still tried her best to remain out of sight to any possible passerby, not because they maybe would have gotten violent, if they even said anything it would probably be full of pity, “another victim of the cruel witches” they would say; but because she didn’t want another human being to see the barbarous side-effects of his own stupidity. The ashes did work, or at least she chooses to believe they did, because he didn’t want to wait there to see if the belief actually became a proper physical effect. If they did, Lylac is now roaming free the streets of a new world, now reborn into something else that may or may not be the same as before. If they didn’t… Well, who knows, it's a mystery they don’t want to dwell on.