Ash

Before the war with Hybern, there had been a mated pair of Illyrian lovers, Dedra and Xanden. They had centuries of love and life together and never thought they would be parted. When the grumblings of war started, the pair decided to try and conceive a child together. When Xanden was called off to battle, Dedra was through the first trimester and starting to show. The gestational period for an Illyrian child is ten months.

Xanden had survived two of the battles with minimal damage and was confident he would see his mate again and his child be born. However, in the finally battle with Hybern, he was run through the chest by an ash harpoon coated in fae-bane. Even with the magic of his siphons and healers on sight, the power of the ash weakened him, and the toxicity of the fae-bane prevented him from being about to heal. He bled out on the battlefield as the horns of surrender were blown - their side had won the war.

With Xanden gone, Dedra embraced the full depth of grief, allowing sorrow to penetrate your heart, mind, and spirit and was transformed by the pain. She went from being a proud, loving, happy female to a female scorned who wanted nothing but revenge for her mate and death to any who had a hand in his demise.

Dedra, herself, could do little. She had never been trained to be a warrior. Her wings had been clipped after her first bleeding, making her forget the joys of the sky. But she had Xanden and he made up for all of it. He took her flying. He loved her completely. And, together, they had been happy. But all that was gone now. Her life had gone dark. A darkness she pushed into her womb. She didn't care if that much despair would alter the baby. Her desire was not to birth only a son, but a son that was born to be a weapon.

The day of the birthing came, and Dedra screamed to the world as she pushed and pushed that "retribution was coming", that "the weapon to end all evil was being born." She believed with her whole heart she was giving birth to a god of war that would wipe out all enemies without mercy.

When she had pushed her last and heard the cries of the babe, she was anxious to look upon him. The midwives that assisted her in the birthing didn't know what to think about the child. Illyrians were dark haired, golden to bronzed skin, with darker eyes. This child was sable haired, olive toned, with silvery blue eyes. Debra looked upon her son and smiled for she truly believed she had given birth to ash wood itself. She had intended to name him Xanden, after his father, but one look at him changed her mind. "Ash," she cooed to the baby. "You will destroy the world."



The midwives left the birthing room once they settled Dedra and the babe together and headed for the fires, where the people the of the camp would gather in the fading light. They told of the child that appeared to be made of ash wood. The warriors weren't superstitious, but they wanted to see this child for themselves. Upon laying eyes on the child, Dedra was deemed an adulterer and was accused of fornicating with someone from the Spring Court.

Dedra was shunned by the people of the camp. Xanden had been a fierce warrior and many of them had grown up fighting by his side. To think Dedra had dishonored him made them turn their backs on her. But not all was lost for Dedra. She picked herself up for she now had a mission - to turn his babe of ash in her arms into a lethal weapon. And so, Ash's education in hate and death bringing began.

Dedra was a firm and harsh mother to Ash. She had him flying before he could walk. His first toys had been child sized practice weapons he couldn't hurt himself with. And she told him stories of battles and warriors and about how his father had died. Relentlessly, it was burned into his mind that he was a weapon, meant to kill, meant to destroy.

When Ash was four years old, an old acquaintance of his father's had come to visit the camp. The male made an offer of marriage to Dedra but only if she left the bastard behind. Ash was of age to join a war camp and Dedra was tired of being shunned. She accepted the marriage and moved with her new betrothed to the Dreadfrost War Camp, while Ash was going to be sent to Windstorm Ridge, the harshest and most strict war camp created.

One of the newer camps that had been created after the war with Hybern, this camp, for all its brutality, was rather liberal in its ideals. For instance, one aspect of this camp that would have other camps railing was that both males and females had the exact same schedules and tasks.

Wake before dawn for breakfast. Training for three intense hours. Break for lunch. Complete chores. Afternoon training for three hours. Dinner. Night chores. Bed. Repeat.

The chores ranged from cleaning, to weapons sharpening, to doing laundry, to tending to the grove of ash trees, or to mining the blue rocks that made fae-bane. There was a rotating schedule, and all participated in every kind of chore.

The Intent - start the process of changing the Illyrian's perception of gender so that all can be equals in battle. And it worked!

For fifteen years, Ash trained side by side with both males and females. They learned the art of balance, focus, control, and brutality. But after fifteen years, the males and females were split up. This happened for two reasons - the first, most of the females would be getting their first blood and their scent could be a distraction for the males. And two, the females got to undergo training that would earn them the titles of Valkyries as well as Illyrian warriors. But no one got to become an Illyrian warrior without the Blood Right.

Blood Rite is a brutal, sacred survival trial for novice Illyrian warriors. It is an annual week-long event held in the Illyrian Mountains, specifically around the holy mountain Ramiel.

No magic or weapons only the clothes on your back and whatever you can create from the forest around.
Bound wings so no one could fly.
At the end of the seven days, participants are ranked based on their progress toward the summit:
Arktosian: Warriors who survive the week but do not reach the base of the mountain.
Oristian: Warriors who reach the mountain but fail to scale it to the summit.
Carynthian: The elite few who scale the summit and touch the onyx monolith at the top. This stone heals the warrior and teleports them out of the Rite.

Despite, or maybe to spite, his mother's wishes for him to be a cold-hearted killer, getting him away from her before he was able to form long-term memories was a blessing. Ash wasn't raised in hate or war mongering. He was raised to be a level-headed, strategic, and ruthless warrior. He was a bastard among other bastards and was no different than anyone around him if you could overlook his physical appearance with the lighter hair, eyes, and skin tone. No one had ever really cared.

Ash was as deadly as his name by the time he was thirteen. Like the females get pulled aside at fifteen, so did a few of the males. Separated from the flock for their exceptional talents in fighting and weaponry. There were three of them, counting Ash, that were taken aside and taught to wield blades, maces, and arrows made of ash. Along with being an Illyrian Warrior, if they survived the training and the Blood Rite, they would also carry the title of Ash Wielder.

In the blood rite, Ash had some unfair advantages over fellow novices from other camps. Because he was trained to be an ash wielder, he had learned to make weapons from wood. In less than a day of waking up in the wilderness with Ramiel (the sacred mountain a five-day run away) Ash had made himself six blades, not of ash, but they were sharp enough to kill. And kill he did. Ash killed his way to the base of the mountain. With only a day and a half left of the rite, Ash started to climb. He climbed and climbed. Bloody, exhausted, dehydrated, just as the sun peaked over the horizon, Ash's fingertips brushed the monolith. It was a win by the skin of his teeth, but a win all the same. Ash had joined the ranks of the Carynthian, of which there were only eight living.

Ash's cohorts from the camp, the other two ash wielders, had not survived the rite. Ash didn't know the details of their deaths, only that he was the only ash wielder of his age, and a Carynthian to top it.