Embrace the Fire Read Online Free Page A

divine elements—either healing or ash.
    Death by decay! Ayden's gaze centered on the words as his life flashed through his head in a single instant—the living beings who had died by a mere brush of Ayden's skin against theirs, their features crumbling into ash and black rot. Ayden slammed his fists on the table on either side of the parchment, feverishly reading.
    The Amulet has long been feared by all but the Seer Fey, and as most creatures dreaded contact with it for fear of receiving one of the Touches, the Seer Fey reclaimed the piece. It was taken into the Marron Mountains where dwelt the Ancients. In recent years— Ayden glanced at the date that headed the entry; it was written over sixty years ago— stories have arisen of occasional sightings of the Amulet by various creatures and citizens of Lismaria. Not everyone has emerged unscathed. Darkness has followed several, including a Trolldimn who drowned himself following contraction of the Ash Touch, and a Dryad, who burned to death, trapped inside his tree.
    Below this were markings that documented the sources, and then a scribble along the side in fading ink, different from the square heavy print in the middle of the parchment. Ayden turned the document to read it.
    Destruction of the Amulet has proved impossible thus far. Legend among certain Clans, namely the Pixies, who descend from the Seer Fey, alludes to the probability that a reversal of the Amulet's powers would involve Dragons, Seer Fey, and Man again, and likely, a requirement of all the Amulet's powers to be present within that grouping—Ice-Touch, Fire-Touch, Ash-Touch, and Healing-Touch.
    Ayden's ears buzzed. He had been an unwilling victim of the Ash-Touch for years. He'd thought Sebastian had brought the curse on him by taibe , but he hadn't realized that the true source of the Touch was the Amulet.
    Visceral hatred for Sebastian and his taibe burned Ayden's hands even hotter. Never had he hated anything more.
    Helga—a Seer Fey—had given him the Amulet to help him break Sebastian's curse. The heat in his hands deepened, and Ayden clenched his fingers against his palm. He snatched the scroll and shoved it back onto the shelf, rifling below it for scrolls detailing the histories of West Ashwynd.
    These were newer; West Ashwynd was, in comparison to Lismaria, a young country with few decades to document.
    Ayden found the one he wanted and pulled it out, smoothing it on the table and pulling the candle closer to it so he could see. The list of the Clans caught his attention first, followed by the leaders of each one. He scanned down to the Dryads. There.
    Leighton of the Dryad Dells – Elder and Chief , followed by the dates. Death Notice served upon discovery of his remains. Fire outside of the village of Delling.
    Ayden straightened and snapped the scroll shut. Delling was a mere half day's hike from the Dells' library.
    Ignoring the pain in his hands, he strode toward the door and yanked it open. The answers he sought lingered just beyond the searing torture in his fingertips.
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    D elling was a small town , hardly a dot on the maps of West Ashwynd, and when Ayden entered the main street, he took note of the single inn, the pub, and the twelve huts that made up the row. The smell of stewed rabbit assailed Ayden's nostrils before he'd gone many steps, and a pang of hunger tore his stomach. He felt his money pouch—only a few sceptremarks left. Enough to last another few weeks, but then he'd have to find work again.
    Despite the scarcity of structures, several people walked the boardwalks. A crowd of rowdy soldiers staggered toward the pub. Sebastian's crest marked their robes, and their Clan insignia was a green bough on white, Elvendimn, likely traveling through the Dryad Dells either on their way west to the Three Maids or to the Forgotten Plains in the east.
    Ayden pulled his mantle over his head, shading his face. He entered the pub behind the men and found a seat near the bar. His