And Cinders Remain.

Dawn's virgin breath sighed across the cresting waves. Salty spray misted in his face as Aelin stood near the bow of the ship, safely away from those more qualified to move freely about its deck. He hardly minded that the sailors considered him a burden; instead, he found himself thankful that he would not embarss himself with fumbled attempts at manual labor. At stark contrast with his striking silver hair and fair features, the rest of his body lacked for musculature and the vestments of his station hung loosely off him.

Aelin fidgeted uncomfortably when one of the larger sailors brushed past him with a snort, then proceeded to secure the rigging. "Excuse me," he mumbled self-consciously. The brutish fellow grunted, and Aelin felt his shoulders sag when the man seemed to take no notice of him. On this ship just as in the barracks, he was invisible.

With a sigh the youth returned to watching the horizon, lazily waiting for the sea to break beyond. Now and then a fish jumped out from the waves and danced for a moment in the morning sun. Aelin clapped merrily at the sight of a whale as it evacuated its spout off the port bow, but sobered quickly when it disappeared into the depths. "They rarely keep vigil with large vessels." Aelin snapped his gaze around to regard the speaker, a soft spoken blonde with kind eyes. He managed a rigid salute, only to be dismissed by a casual wave. "Initiate Valth, is this your first time at sea?"

"Ah, yes," he admitted, glancing away from the woman as she interrogated him. "I have not traveled far from Tylmerande, and only as far as my father bade me. I take it you are fairly well traveled, Lady Bethany?" Aelin felt his cheeks warm at the mention of her name.

Bethany chuckled and shook her head. "You can call me Beth, if it please you, Aelin," she smirked when he shifted and turned his gaze further from her. "But yes. My commission as a Knight has taken me as far west as Alerar, and to the southernmost reaches of Salvar. If you prove your worth, you may yet see the world for yourself."

Aelin rested his cheek in hand on the rail then closed his eyes. As the ship bounced in the waves, he considered what she might mean by "see the world." The young Arcane Knight fostered a love for knowledge that drove the intensity of his studies, so the prospect initially excited him. As the nature of his vocation crept back into his mind, Aelin found that excitement slowly morphing into dread. "You think too much," Bethany chimed in sourly when he failed to respond. Aelin glanced over at her and noticed her chewing a mouthful of apple. Her eyes studied the fruit in her hand. Once she swallowed, she spoke again. "There's no point in worrying," she told him as if reading his mind. "Today, tomorrow, a week from now- conflict is inevitable. Your position as a Knight demands it."

Aelin flinched. "Y-yes," he admitted painfully. "I understand that."

"I have no doubt that you do," Bethany smiled. "My worry is that you are ill-prepared to face that conflict."

"In that much, we are agreed." Aelin did not try to hide his reluctance. His lips tightened as he tried on his best look of determination. The Superior Knight guffawed. The novice visibly deflated.

"At least you embrace your shortcomings, Valth," she crooned, and he blinked. "There are many knights in the order who would not have. There are many brothers and sisters of your rank and better who, faced with situations beyond their control and ability would let pride ruin them. Here you are, weakness laid bare, and you display such graceful humility."

Aelin shrugged. It was all he could manage in answer to the kind words she paid him, for he had no good reasons to offer for his behavior. "Seemed the logical thing to do," he finally said, and she shook her head.

"If only there were more men who thought that way," she lamented. "And women. We would benefit as a society if people considered everything logically." As she finished her thought, the watcher crowed out from above.

"Land-Ho!"

Several days of sailing had come to an end. The boards beneath his feet creaked as Aelin leaned over the rail. "Raiaera," Bethany confirmed. He could hear in her voice that she had seen it before, and something about her words felt like fondness. He glanced to her, directly and breathlessly beside him and noticed the transfixed gaze she stared at the coast with. "There she is, Aelin. Once the seat of the greatest magic power in all of Althanas. There is a wealth of knowledge in this land that Corone could never hope to offer you."

She knew just the words to say. Aelin renewed his watch on the horizon, staring with lusty eyes toward the land that now commanded his attention. "I doubt that I've been sent here on account of knowledge," he spoke to sober himself, and to remind Bethany that he still did not know his true purpose on this journey.

"Patience," she smiled wryly. "There is no room in your mind for doubt. Cast it aside now, so that you have space for the important lessons."

Her words served only to incite more questions, but Aelin seemed content to watch as Beinost grew larger in the distance. "And Aelin," Bethany took several steps back and glanced skyward. He ripped his gaze free long enough to see her lose focus. It unnerved him. "Don't forget to live. Work doesn't mean you have to stop being you."

"Uh..." His eyes bloomed into two wide circles. "I... won't?" he stammered.

With a smile, the Lady Bethany turned from Aelin and continued her rounds. He watched her for a few seconds before Raiaera called to him once more. The young magician sighed and scratched his head. "I hope I get to study at least some magic..."

Books and pictures cast Beinost in a humbling light.

Aelin was a student of texts and parchment foremost, and most of his upbringing took place in libraries sequestered away from the real world. The initiate mage stood on the bow and grasped the rigging in awe as the city came to life. Sunset dyed the lustrous amalgamation of death and rebirth with a rosy hue. "It's like nothing I've ever seen," he managed to whisper.

"Aye," Beth leaned forward next to him and rested her plated chest on the railing. "A real show of what magic can do, if you dedicate your life to the study." Her blonde hair shimmered as though ablaze when the light kissed it softly. "The Wizard called Blueraven created Beinost from the ashes of Anebrilith in hopes of returning the city to its people in the wake of Xem'Zund's horrible Corpse War..."

"...but Blueraven could not have imagined the hatred and contempt that the Raiaeran people would feel for such an act of Necromancy so soon after the Forgotten One ravaged their land and killed so many of their kin." Aelin sighed as he watched the city grow to enormity while they approached. "Those who remained were no less bitter than those who left, but they knew no other way of life. It was never a matter of thanks that they afforded Caden Law, but begrudging necessity that drove them to morose complacency."

"Yet they call her the 'beautiful city," Beth mused. "Doesn't that seem a bit ironic?"

Aelin gestured toward the crescent that stretched toward Raiaera and formed one of the world's largest harbors. "It certainly earns its name, I think." He felt the magic that coursed through it, even now. His acute awareness allowed Aelin an understanding that even some trained mages could not boast. "Do you feel the power that remains from the act?" he asked quietly.

Beth turned and stared at him for a long moment, then smiled as she looked back toward the harbor where they would moor. "No," she crooned, "I cannot feel it. Ley lines, Old Magic, the Tap- there are mysteries some mages go a lifetime without ever fully grasping." Her back straightened and the Knight stretched out her arms. When they fell, she rested a hand on Aelin's shoulder. "If you can still feel echoes of past spells, you are a gifted young man." Her voice fell, and she leaned close to his ear. "I advise you not to speak too candidly about it. There are those still in Raiaera who would not look kindly on someone in tune with necromantic power."

He glanced toward Beth incredulously. "I have no such attunement," he argued, "I would never-"

"What you can do, what you will do, and what you might do are all a matter of perspective, Initiate Valth. A wise Knight knows where he stands not only in his own eyes, but in the eyes of those who are watching." She winked, and Aelin bit his lip in apprehension. "Nevertheless, I envy your ability to feel across the ages and hear the voices of our predecessors on the wind." Beth let out a raspy sigh. "Some of the Arcane Knights will never be as close to them as you are. They might even hate you for it."

"Do you hate me for it?" he asked, suddenly curious.

Beth gave him a startled look at first, then it softened. "No," she answered honestly, "no, Aelin, I don't hate you."

"I wonder," Aelin stared skyward as he took a step back from the bow. "I wonder how Blueraven felt when he did all of this, and they hated him for it."

Beth tossed her apple at his head. "Ow!" he called out. "What was that for?" He rubbed the sore spot and his eyes followed the apple as it splashed into the sea.

"Don't go wondering things like that," she turned up her nose and faced away from Aelin. "A wise Wizard learns from the mistakes of others, but he never goes looking to repeat them."

"But I wasn't-!" Aelin did not finish before Beth began to walk away from him.

"We're docking," she called back over her shoulder. The harbor bell rang loudly as boatswains tossed rope overboard and caught some in return. They pulled the ship toward shore with a combined effort and the larboard side of the ship came flush with the dock, barring several feet of space. "Prepare to disembark, Valth," Beth commanded, "and report to the encampment outside the city gates by dawn. You have the evening's worth of leave. Enjoy Beinost while you can."

"Yes, ma'am!" he called back as she disappeared below deck. Aelin glanced toward the city, took a deep breath, then smiled. Stars began to twinkle to life overhead as a haze of dark blue stretched across the sky. "Stars," he muttered to himself. "This is Raiaera. This is the heartland of spellcasters." He stared at his feet for a moment, then clenched his fist.

"This is my chance to finally come close to the heart of all magic."

The moon and stars peeked out from behind clouds, spilling pale light over Beinost. The slick cobblestones clacked as he walked beneath a looming arch. The monolithic stone was wreathed with ivy uncontested by time. Spires of nondescript, bleak grey and black stared back down at him. Eerie green, purple and gold light from lanterns that lined both sides of the path offset the drab color scheme. Aelin reached out and tapped a finger on one of the iridescent lights, and it shivered beneath his touch. The light shifted to a cool blue color. "This is..."

"Ephemeral lighting," a masculine voice observed, and Aelin spun around frantically. The tall Elf smiled down at him. "The people of Beinost are not content with its nature, so the few Spellsingers who remain sought to infuse it with something that felt more like their homeland." His chestnut hair flowed down the back of his tabard and spilled across his shoulders. Telltale pointed ears twitched slightly as his green eyes regarded the young mage. "You have never seen an Elf?" he asked suddenly.

"N-no, that's not..." Aelin stammered, then glanced up at the Raiaeran. "I thought it was strange, the song that the lights were humming..."

The two remained silent for several heartbeats, and the Elf closed his eyes. "So, you can hear the song?" he asked. "Most interesting. There are very few beyond the Bards who can hear the rhythm, even faintly. It is woven of Turlin, a song to soothe those who it washes over." He straightened, then touched two fingers to his forehead. "I am Lothiel Aruinith, a Bard in service to the city of Beinost. I sang this song for them."

Aelin blinked. "Why does it change color?" he asked as the blue light danced in his palm.

"The song can resonate with the hearts of those who it touches," Lothiel explained. "It reflects their soul. A blue color is gentle like the sea. Do you have fond memories of the ocean?"

"I grew up in Serenti," Aelin answered with a soft smile. "I often stared out at the waves, longing to see what lay beyond them. I listened late into the night as they crashed against the shore. The sea was..." the boy hesitated for a moment, and the light seemed to wain before it turned an eerie gray color. "...the sea was my only friend."

"Loneliness," Lothien crooned as he stared into the light. "But it does not own you, child." The Bard reached out and cupped his hand beneath Aelin's own. "If you could hear my song, then you are a mage I take it?" The glow began to strengthen and tremble back toward its previous azure hue.

"Yeah!" Aelin began, but quickly glanced off to the side. "Well, kind of. See... I can only..."

"You can use magic," the Bard smirked, "that is all that matters. Anyone with the gift can learn to use it." Lothiel retracted his hand and cleared his throat. "The channel for any kind of power is your own will. You must remember to retain your tenacity, or even the lowliest of spells will be beyond you."

Aelin raised a hand uncertainly. "Well..." the air around his arm began to swirl rhythmically and Lothiel narrowed his eyes. The young mage's fingers dipped like he was touching the surface of a pool, and the world responded. With a crackle, a small flame appeared in his palm. "...it's not much, but I can do this..."

"Pyromancy," the Bard whispered, "I have not seen such magic in many years."

Aelin drew his arm across his chest and the ember followed, then he flicked his wrist outward and it lashed outward like a whip. "It's just a weak attack spell," Aelin explained. "I can't burn much of anything with this like it is right now." He ripped his arm backward and the flames danced around him in a ribbon-like spiral. "I guess it would hurt if someone got too close, though..."

The flames went out shortly after he finished. "You have a gift, young man," the Elf praised. "If you had been born Raiaeran, you might even have become a Bard." He shrugged and turned away. "Let me ask you this," Lothiel spoke over his shoulder. "If you can hear my song, what else do you hear?"

Aelin stared blankly for a moment as the question struck him. "You can hear Song magic that has faded. You have a strange and complex relationship with the magic in this place, child. Rather... you have it with all magic, do you not?"

The young Arcane Knight did not look up. "I can feel the dead," he whispered. "They are all sullen. They wish to sleep."

"Yes," Lothiel answered quietly. "That is what they wish."

"And to give them some peace, you gave them this song." Aelin suddenly understood. "You use magic even for this?" he asked.

"If not for this, why does magic exist?" the Bard answered in a harsh whisper. Aelin could see tears form at the edge of the man's eyes. "There is nothing more for Raiaera but this. We were once a proud, powerful people, but only ashes are left of that time." He lifted his hands and pressed them together gently. "I have a request, young man. Would you hear my song?"

His eyes widened, and Aelin felt his jaw slack. "I... of course, sir," he rasped. "I would be honored."

Withered leaves and barren trees shivered in the evening breeze as Aelin followed Lothiel quietly along the path. They passed beneath trellises painted red, purple, gold, green, and blue by spectral light and strode past pools the color of pale moonlight. Aelin glanced skyward and was greeted by a soft voice. "You enjoy starlight, young one?" the Bard asked.

"It is more beautiful here than any place in the world," Aelin commented thoughtlessly.

"Perhaps," Lothiel murmured, "perhaps."

"No, I mean..." Aelin realized that he had trivialized the beauty of stars as a whole unit and his face burned with embarrassment. "What I mean was I've never seen them as clear and beautiful as I can in Raiaera. The stars are always gorgeous."

The Bard gestured toward a lone fountain that spilled out pristine water and fed several small, budding plants. "The High Elves have ever believed in the powers of magic and life, and how they are entwined." He reached beneath the spout and allowed some of the luminescence to pool in his hand, then held it out toward the young Pyromancer. "When the stars first shed their light over Althanas, they were seven in number."

Lothiel held the water steady over Aelin's head as the boy looked on, transfixed. "Aurient, the Star Mother imparted upon her children great fortitude that they might withstand the turbulent times to come. Though we faced a great evil in the horde of Xem'Zund, we were ultimately able to survive and prevail against the slanderous assault."

The youth remained silent and sucked in a gasp as the cold water poured down his scalp and flowed over his face. "Galatirion, the Sky Father offered to us longevity that we might learn and share in the enormity of this world, and share records with those who would follow. Though countless enemies have assailed us, the elves have ever prevailed and yet draw breath. Ours is a timeless defiance."

Aelin watched in awe as fireflies blinked out from the brush and flitted around him, dimly aware that his body now shimmered with silver light. "Then there was Earlon, the Rain Star," this name came somber to the Coronian's ears as deep sadness weighed down on his heart. He could feel the tune resonate within every word, and though it was not sung the lyrics carried immense inner power. "That which was taken," he explained, "the gift of the sea, and those who conquer it. Once, our people traversed the world over and sang the songs to the furthest reaches. Now, our verses reach only Raiaera."

Aelin felt a tear burn at the edge of his eye as the sobering admission plucked his heartstrings. Without warning, Aelin felt his chest swell with pride as the Elf began to smile. "Arddunwë, the Sweet-Star, most beautiful daughter in the heavens gave us our beauty. With it, she brought great appreciation of the arts, and the desire to perfect all things to a higher brand of beauty." The Bard lifted his arms and the light that surrounded Aelin now rose, from the water on his face and chest to the lightning bugs that swarmed him began to hum and swirl lazily.

"Cuarye, the Swift-Star offered to us swiftness of hand and foot, the grace with which to subdue our foes. Those who would stand against the High Elves would face a fearsome enemy, which we have proven true countless times through the epochs." Aelin felt the warmth in his chest rise and his body felt light. He reached out his hands and felt the breeze.

He felt like part of the air. "Megillion, the Silver-Star rendered unto us the skill to work the forges, he bestowed us with knowledge of swordplay. His people became the Bladesingers, sworn defenders of the Raiaeran people. A true knight knows, understands, and respects the gods who lord over his craft, and to Tel Alagrim, Megillion is their chief and patron deity."

Silence fell and the light dimmed slightly as Lothiel lowered his voice. And She who gave most of all," the Bard whispered as Aelin felt the forge in his chest ignite hotter than it had before. "Selana, the Young-Star. Her gift was the light itself, what we see, and what we will know until the end of time. She gave us memory, and the gift..." he reached out and snapped his fingers. The light grew brilliant, and the world around Aelin was suddenly ablaze. "...of magic."

Aelin reached out with one hand toward the light, but what the word 'magic' continued to echo as light burned his eyes. The young Arcane Knight shielded his eyes in a vain effort to stop the heat from blinding him. "Lothiel," he rasped, "Lothiel, it hurts."

All sound faded, yet echoed in his memory as his mind receded from consciousness. "Please," he whispered, "make it stop..."