Bloodbound

In the dark world of "Bloodbound," Ember Hallewell, a young woman haunted by her past, discovers her unique ability to communicate with the shadows. This draws the attention of Rune Deamonne, a young man with his own dark secret. As they navigate political intrigue and power-hungry sorcerers, their forbidden connection threatens the delicate balance between light and shadow. Betrayal lurks at every turn as they confront their inner demons and learn to trust each other.

Chapter One

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, bathing the village of Ashfeld in its honey-golden light as I, Ember Hallewell, went about my daily routine. As an apprentice healer, every day brought a new challenge and purpose—a purpose that I held onto dearly after losing my parents. My mornings began filling with tending to the herb garden, choosing which plants would be best used for that day’s healing remedies.

“Ember, don’t forget the calendula,” called out my mentor, Maera, from the doorway of her apothecary. Her voice was gentle yet firm, guiding me through my newfound life.

“Of course, Maera,” I replied, plucking the vibrant orange petals and inhaling their soothing scent. My mind drifted to my parents, who had perished in a mysterious fire when I was but a child. The vivid memories of that night still haunted me—flames dancing like malevolent spirits, consuming everything I had known and loved.

I shook off the melancholy thoughts, determined to focus on the present. Maera had enlisted my help in preparing poultices and potions to treat the ailments of the village, a task I had grown accustomed to since my arrival. I brought the basket of herbs inside and set to work in the kitchen, Maera’s wise eyes always watching me. The familiar rhythm of chopping, crushing, and mixing provided solace, grounding me in the here and now. I felt a sense of peace washing over me as I worked with the herbs, their fragrant aroma filling the air around me. I could almost feel the healing power of the plants as I worked with them, making me realize the importance of nature’s gifts. When the task was completed, I stood back, admiring my handiwork. I knew that these remedies would help many of the villagers, and I was filled with a sense of accomplishment and pride. Maera’s gaze lingered on me as she nodded her approval.

“Ember,” Maera said softly, sensing my inner turmoil. “You’re doing well. Your parents would be so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice hoarse with sadness. Their loss had left a void within me, a yearning for understanding and connection that paralyzed me. But through my work as a healer’s apprentice, I found a semblance of peace and fulfillment. The bleakness began to lift, like the fog after a storm.

“Maera, have I ever told you about the night they died?” I asked tentatively, seeking comfort in sharing my story.

“Only bits and pieces,” she replied, her expression filled with concern.

“Sometimes I wonder if there was anything I could’ve done to save them,” I confessed, my voice cracking. “The fire spread so quickly, and by the time help arrived, it was too late.”

“Ember, you were just a child,” Maera said gently. “You can’t blame yourself for something beyond your control.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” I conceded, though doubt lingered in my heart. Would my life have taken a different path had they survived? Would I still have discovered my affinity for healing, or would I have followed in their footsteps as artisans?

As the day went on, I tended to the sick and injured villagers with care and compassion, each successful treatment easing some of the pain that weighed upon my soul. My past haunted me, but my purpose as a healer’s apprentice gave me the strength to face each new challenge.

In the silent moments, when night settled over Ashfeld and the darkness enveloped every corner of my world, I felt comfort in the knowledge that I was never alone. Even in our darkest hours, there is always a chance for growth and understanding. Perhaps one day soon, the answers I seek will surface from within my soul.

* * *

As I entered Maera’s small cottage, the scent of various herbs and remedies filled my nostrils. The room was dimly lit, and I could hear faint whispers coming from the dark corners. They were familiar voices—my shadows, always present, watching and listening.

“Good morning, Ember,” Maera greeted me with a warm smile. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”

“Of course, Maera,” I replied, tying my apron around my waist. “Where should I start?”

“Old Man Jaresiah is waiting outside. He has been complaining about his joints again.” Maera handed me a small jar of salve. “Apply this to the affected areas and make sure he understands that he needs to rest.”

“Understood,” I said, taking the jar and heading outside.

Old Man Jaresiah sat on a wooden bench, his gnarled hands clutching a walking stick. His face brightened when he saw me approach.

“Ah, Ember, my dear! Just the person I was hoping to see,” he exclaimed as I kneeled beside him.

“Your joints are troubling you again?” I asked gently, removing the lid from the jar. The salve was a blend of herbs known for their anti-inflammatory properties.

“Indeed they are,” he grumbled. “I’ve been working on my vegetable garden, but the pain has become unbearable.”

“Let me help you,” I offered, carefully applying the salve to his swollen knuckles, my touch soothing and deliberate. As I did so, A faint hymn whispered under my breath, a melody of healing magic carrying beyond my lips.

“Thank you, Ember,” Old Man Jaresiah sighed as I finished. “You have your mother’s gift for healing.”

“Thank you, sir,” I replied, my heart swelling with pride and sadness. “Please remember to rest. Your body needs time to heal.”

“Of course, dear,” he agreed, gingerly standing up and making his way back to his home.

I returned to the cottage and found Maera preparing a poultice for another patient.

“Ember,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as she observed me. “You used more than just the salve, didn’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?” I sighed, knowing that my mentor could see right through me.

“Your mother had the same gift, Ember. The ability to channel the power of healing through touch alone.” Maera’s voice softened. “But be careful not to rely on it too much. People may begin to ask questions.”

“I know,” I whispered. Guilt pricked like pinpricks all over my body, trying to hold me back. And there was something else, something that struck a deeper chord than guilt—my connection to the shadows. But it had been so long since I’d felt it.

“Let me tend to the next patient, Maera. I promise to be more discreet.”

“Thank you, Ember,” she said, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

I trudged through the day, a feeling of loneliness pressing in on me as I tried to assist the suffering villagers. Every move I made felt measured, each action weighed down by my affliction—a power that both connected and isolated me from those around me. The shadows whispered inside my mind, an ever-present reminder of my uniqueness and burden.

“Ember,” one shadow whispered, its voice barely audible. “You must learn to embrace your true nature. There is so much we can show you.”

I tried to ignore the call of the shadows, focusing my energy on the task before me. But I could feel that they were begging me, promising wisdom and understanding if I only stepped into the unknown. Maera and Old Man Jaresiah would never understand what lay in wait for me, but something inside was daring me to be brave—to take a chance with the darkness.

To be continued...