Forging Ash of the Beloved
Book One: Air and Ash and All We Lost
By Jesse Annette
Posted: Feb 12th, 2025
Length: approx. 1.6k words
The Embers That Found Her in the Dark
DAY EIGHT
Austra- Second Salute
Week Two was designed to break people. It began with long sprints through sulfur-thick tunnels and escalated into blindfolded weapon-detection drills, rope climbs over open lava vents where heat singed hair and blistered palms, and silent meditation under geothermal pressure that made ears ring, and lungs ache.
Austra breezed through most of it. She stumbled theatrically through the rest, partly because she refused to be predictable, partly because Daria watched everything with that infuriating calm that made Austra want to preen like a vain bird. Inconvenient, given the whole spy thing. But “acting natural” meant following instinct, and her instincts were currently summarized as: Tease the pretty Fire Genasi until she cracks.
After a brutal climb at day’s end, Austra strutted back to the group with her arms spread wide. She was drenched in sweat, streaked with soot, hands raw, hair plastered to her neck, and still smirking like she’d won. “Survived,” she announced. “Barely. But I did it.”
Daria handed her a waterskin without expression. Austra took it like a prize, drank, then, because she couldn’t help herself, two quick finger guns. A wink. A little tongue-click. “Commander.”
The squad froze like she’d cast Hold Person. Daria’s jaw flexed. Darvin made a strangled sound that might’ve been laughter or choking. Austra shrugged. “I salute how I feel in my soul.”
Daria inhaled, slow, controlled, then turned and walked away before the smile trying to escape could win. Austra almost felt bad. Almost.
DAY NINE
Austra- A Little Wink
She finished demonstrating a flashy, unnecessary disarming trick and glanced up to find Daria watching from across the cavern, cold, assessing, and, unless Austra was hallucinating, slightly amused. Austra held her gaze and winked. Just once. Deliberate.
Daria went very still. Then she snapped orders so sharp they could shear metal. Austra grinned to herself. Got her.
Daria- Ridiculous
Daria prided herself on being unreadable. Then Austra winked from across the cavern, and Daria’s heart slammed so hard she was certain someone must have heard it. She barked orders to cover the surge of adrenaline and turned away as if nothing had happened.
It didn’t matter. The wink replayed behind her eyes for days afterward, ridiculous, infuriating, impossible to forget.
DAYS TEN AND ELEVEN
Austra- Close Quarters
When Daria announced a shift to stealth training, Austra expected to excel. Stealth was her specialty. Then they entered the tight volcanic tunnels, and Austra discovered a new kind of torture: Daria’s self-control.
Another soldier would have flinched in the dark when bodies pressed close. Daria didn’t. When Austra brushed her arm, Daria stayed perfectly still. Breathing even. Posture impeccable, except for the faint tension at her jaw. Her eyes glinted gold in the narrow torchlight.
“Am I crowding you?” Austra whispered.
“No,” Daria said evenly.
Lie. Complete lie. Austra bit back a smile. “Should I move closer, then?”
Daria’s inhale through her nose was the only betrayal. “No,” she said again, quieter this time.
Gods. She was a fortress. Austra immediately wanted to storm her.
The next day, Daria led her into the caverns again, checking corners with precise caution. Austra followed, quieter than air. When footsteps echoed ahead, Daria reached back without looking and grabbed Austra’s wrist, yanking her close. Too close. Austra’s front pressed against Daria’s back. Daria’s breath caught.
“Quiet,” Daria whispered.
Austra murmured into her hair, “You pulled me into you.”
“To keep you safe,” Daria said low.
“Mm,” Austra hummed. “Of course.”
Her breath brushed the sensitive spot behind Daria’s ear.
Daria shivered, violently and uncontrollably. “You’re doing that on purpose,” Daria hissed.
“Yes,” Austra admitted. Daria almost dropped her dagger.
That night, Austra dreamed of golden eyes, dark tunnels, Daria’s hands on her, the two of them pressed into a dark, tight cavern, Daria whispering incoherently into her ear, heat and restraint unraveling at last.
Daria- The Crawlspaces
Austra was too close, warm and real against Daria’s back, like she belonged in the narrow space between danger and Daria’s spine. Daria had pulled her in by instinct. Training. Habit. She hadn’t accounted for Austra’s breath ghosting along her neck like a dare. It’s a tunnel drill. It’s routine. It’s nothing. But Austra’s slow hum curled down Daria’s spine like smoke.
“You pulled me into you,” Austra murmured.
Daria’s jaw locked. “To keep you safe.”
The moment she said it, she regretted it. Too honest. Too raw. Austra heard it anyway. When Austra leaned in and breathed deliberately against Daria’s ear, Daria’s body betrayed her. A shiver tore up her arms, humiliating in its intensity.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” she hissed, grasping for command.
“Yes,” Austra breathed.
Heat flared as rage and want and fear tangled tight. Daria forced her breathing silent, forced her body still. She needed space. Air. Distance. The tunnel offered none of it. Austra had become the most dangerous part of the trials.
DAY TWELVE
Austra- Close Calls
By the third day of tunnel work, Austra was starting to lose focus. She tripped in a narrow passage and grabbed Daria’s shoulders to steady herself. Daria caught her at the waist. Their faces hovered inches apart.
“I think we’re stuck,” Austra whispered.
“You did that on purpose,” Daria whispered back.
Austra smirked. “Maybe.”
Later, Daria hauled her into an alcove to avoid patrols, pinning her chest-to-chest.
“We’re supposed to be quiet,” Austra breathed.
“Then stop breathing on my neck,” Daria growled.
“I can’t help it. You smell nice.”
“You’re impossible.”
Daria- Phantom Warmth
Daria should have been asleep. The others were. Torches burned low; even the caldera’s distant rumble felt muted. But Daria lay awake with fists curled in her blanket, replaying the tunnels in humiliating detail. Every corner she checked, Austra hovered behind her, steady, attentive, too present. Every time Daria guided her into position, she felt breath at her neck like a blade edge.
You’re doing that on purpose.
Yes.
The word still made something hot coil low in Daria’s stomach. She dragged a hand over her face and turned onto her side, trying to force her mind into discipline. She had held formation under fire. Bled on caldera stone. Survived nights when the air tasted like death. She should not be undone by a whisper.
Tomorrow, she told herself, she would be colder. Stricter. She would not let Austra close enough to touch her focus again.
She stared at the stone ceiling as if she could burn through it. And the phantom warmth lingered anyway.
Austra- Second Report
Austra waited for early evening chores to make her second report. She volunteered for latrine duty; no one questioned it, and she carried her bucket down the dim rear tunnel to the waste chute. She set it aside, braced against the wall, and drew out the sending stone. Warmth pulsed into her palms.
She began cleanly. Team structures forming. Leadership patterns emerging. Oversight disciplined. The stone absorbed the meaning. Then her thoughts grazed Daria, sharp, immediate, and the stone surged warm as if it sensed a bend in the current. Austra clamped down hard. She forced safe phrasing: Captain Cross: competent, composed, influential. Predictable.
The lie stung: Predictable. The stone didn’t judge. It only recorded, and could so easily catch more: the heat that skittered up Austra’s spine when Daria corrected her stance, the way Austra’s attention narrowed whenever Daria entered a room. She could not let even a hint of that slip through. Austra breathed until the spike flattened, until the stone cooled back to neutral. Tap tap. Sent.
She tucked it away, picked up the bucket, and wiped her hands clean. She stared down the waste chute’s dark drop and shoved hard at the guilt beginning to root in her chest.
That night she dreamed of Daria again: Dark tunnels, seductive whispers, burning eyes, soft moans. Austra woke drenched in sweat and desire. Gods help me, she thought. If these tunnel days continued much longer, she would become a genuine mess.
DAY THIRTEEN
Austra- Burning Touches
Narrow spaces. Blind turns. Moments where Daria grabbed Austra’s arm and pulled her flush against her body as torchlight flickered. Austra started doing it back. The second time, Daria turned her head just enough that Austra’s lips brushed her cheek. Every “accidental” touch began to feel like a spark finding kindling.
When Daria announced before dinner that Week Two was over and they’d earned a day off, Austra nearly cried with relief. She was slipping. Losing herself in gold eyes glowing in the dark. She needed to remember her purpose. Mission. Duty. She needed her mask back, clean and careless. She was not falling for Daria Cross. She was charming Daria Cross to get secrets and protect the Queen. She needed a day to mend her shattered focus.
DAY FOURTEEN
Daria- No Rest
Daria had never been so grateful for a day away from recruits. She usually liked tunnel training. This time it had been three days of being pressed too close to Austra, and hearing soft whispers that scraped at the edges of Daria’s control.
Wind and mischief. A puzzle. And I can’t stop wanting to solve her.
She spent the day alone in her quarters, didn’t even let Darvin in for afternoon tea. She rebuilt her mask the only way she trusted: repetition, discipline, pain. She spent most of the day fighting her punching bag.
That night, Daria dreamed of Austra. She refused to keep the details.
© 2026 Jesse Annette. All rights reserved.
Forging Ash of the Beloved 
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