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 Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2009 2:54 am
((I am currently writing a series of books about a story that came to me in a dream...these rarely happen and this one ate at me until I began writing it down. It is about a young girl who grows up discriminated against, her walk through life and how she finds herself, the people she meets along the way. A war that was supposed to have ended 100 years ago is still raging. Love, betrayal, murder and a devious plot that has been in the workings for many years, but how high in the chain of command does it really go? I have gone from chapter to chapter adding and subtracting from it. I have part of the first chapter but I have random chapters through out the quartet up and would like to share those too. So please do not expect a good flow I will not post ch.1 then ch. 2 [until I have it that is], I will however make you well aware of chapter switches to avoid confusion. Also I would like to explain my nerdom in this area, I do play World of Warcrack....craft* and the characters in my story are based off of the people I met in my 4 1/2 years of playing it. Cool crew. This is a rough draft of my story and I do take critiques, be kind, this is my baby, but suggestions are more than welcome. I would also like to ask any that read this a specific question. What are your opinions on chapter length? I have researched it and some say its an ego stroke, people do not base their progression through a book off of page number but off of chapter number...do you prefer shorter chapters over longer ones?))
Prologue Book One
It has been speculated that so long as there are two beings alive, there will be war. Whether it take place inside one's own body, home, or on a distant battle field, there will always be suffering and blood shed. Some may fight because of some long forgotten insult. Some over land, some over riches. Many though will fight and kill relentlessly over a lack of understanding. For it has also been speculated that we fear what we do not understand. And for hundreds of years, the inhabitants of Cria have fallen prey to such primitive behaviors, consumed by them, driven by them.
In the seven hundred forty-second year, the year of the Serpent, a war was waged by the humans against what they deemed evil. They called themselves Argothians. They moved through the lands killing any who did not or would not pledge their loyalties to their god, Argos. The most feared and respected of these warriors were the paladins. The holy warriors blessed by Argos himself with a small portion of his power. Having earned their strength and abilities through rigorous training and a spiritual atonement at a young age, no one could stand up to these formidable demi-gods, though many tried.
The Argothians swept through many other territories, conquering lands, destroying entire generations of many of the other races who called Cria home. The humans were successful, and the other races fled to distant lands, defeated. This war lasted for decades. Men would enter battle, only to be killed and replaced by their sons. They were driven by their fearless leader, King Richard, the strongest paladin ever known. It was said that with a single swing of his mighty mace, he could fell an entire battalion of men. No one who stood against Richard lived long. His words and charisma brought a fighting will to the hearts of so many, his wrong doings and cruelty were lost and buried. No one noticed that their king never aged, that his skin over the years became pale and sallow. No one save his personal advisor. Geneva Tremain, not only high council to the King, but head of the kingdom's Mage's Guild, a league of spell casters ranked highly in society.
Geneva watched for years as Richard slowly twisted into something dark and evil. Finally 40 years into the war that Richard and his followers would soon call, The Great Purging War, Geneva confronted King Richard. Believing she was betraying him, a monumental battle ensued. King Richard, the holy warrior of light and Geneva Tremain, the greatest shadow caster in the land. It was a battle between titans. But Richards pride would be his downfall. Convinced that none could beat him, for it was Argos' will, the moment Richard realized Geneva greatly overpowered him, his mind broke and he fell. But Geneva, having loved Richard for many years could not bare to deal the final blow. She fled. Richard, broken and beaten uttered new orders for his men as he lay on his death bed. Hunt down and kill all shadow casters, show no mercy.
His men loyal to him to the end carried out this grim task. This new goal threw the kingdom into chaos, pitting siblings against one another, ripping apart families and friends. The moment any child no matter how young, showed any semblance of magical shadow abilities they were to be brought before the magistrate and executed immediately. The unity that Richard had built in his people was destroyed in a matter of years.
There remained but a few scattered shadow casters. They disappeared into the country side, some vanished among society, denying their names and lineage. Geneva herself was never found. For one hundred years the Argothians lived in false peace. As a result of the war, many of the other races of Cria harbored blind hatred for the humans. An entire race was wiped out, never seen again. War was at their back door every moment, waiting for one wrong move to push them over the edge.
The Church now commanded the kingdom. The Mage's Guild is now headed by scholars, whose power comes from reading scriptures and spells, the art of natural casting lost in the Great Purging War.
Copyright May 2007
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2009 3:02 am
Chapter 1 “Of Wolves and Men” Book One
The Sun was shining through the stained glass windows of the tiny two roomed house, bending and twisting, catching the tiny dust particles and highlighting their path to the dark wooden floor where a Kaleidescope of color played across the boards, dancing towards the kitchen table. The beautiful show of colors was not wasted on the pensive woman seated there. Staring sidelong at the rainbow moving slowly up the wooden legs of the table, the small framed woman sighed lightly, contentedly.
A knock at the door brought her out of her reverie. Standing quietly, she walked towards the door. She opened it, and a broad smile spread across her face at the sight of the person on the steps of the little house. The tall man stepped over the threshold and swept her into a tight embrace lifting her off of her feet easily. Placing a delicate kiss on her cheek he set her down gently. She turned to lead him over to the table, still smiling. Sitting down, she motioned for him to follow suit. As he sat down, made eye contact with her, she gave him another broad grin. A knowing grin.
“So whats this all about Naomi?” He asked her, returning her smile with a half laugh.
“Have patience my love.” Naomi half whispered. “All in good time.” She reached across the table, touching his hand gently with her fingertips.
He turned his hand and gripped hers meaningfully. His eyes trailed from the pale delicate fingers to the long stretch of arm slowly disappearing underneath a cascade of pale green silk stitched at the edge of her bare shoulder with a small golden leaf. He followed the flow of the material, like a wave across her chest finding the line of her collar bone, up the delicate rise of her neck, touched lightly by freely bouncing copper red curls that had broken free from the beautiful mass of longer curls pulled loosely back from her beautiful face. His eyes found that face. The line of her perfect jaw, rising to her pink lips, still parted slightly in a smile. Her tiny nose wonderfully proportioned to her face, and her big almond shaped bright green eyes, alight with life and a joyous secret.
Barely able to contain himself any longer, “Come now Naomi, what was so urgent? I left Mass to get here as soon as I received your message.” He burst forth, sounding a bit more impatient than he had intended.
Looking a little taken aback at the tone in his voice, her smile faltered for only a moment. But it returned as quickly as it had vanished as she pulled her hands back from his grip, rose gracefully and headed to the stove. “Tea?”
He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples with his fingers. He knew what she was up to. “Yes, please.” He lied. If ever he showed any form of aggression she would offer him tea, and even though he never wanted it, he would take it, and though he would never admit it, always, it made him feel better.
Just as the kettle began to sing there was a sound in the distance. The town bell was ringing. Naomi removed the kettle from the fire and looked to the window facing the main road into town. Though she could see nothing, she knew something was wrong.
Naomi looked at the tall, dark haired man she had loved for so long. His face chiseled and perfect marked lightly by a five o'clock shadow that he could never seem to get rid of but never got out of control, his eyes a rich mahogany brown matching his dark skin framed by the white robes of a priest of Markumhold. She saw that he began to sweat slightly, staring avidly at the front doors and windows.
“I must go. Forgive me. I will return to you as soon as I am able.” Running to her, brushing his lips across hers, he bounded quickly out of her door, the swish of his robes fading into the dusk along with the dying sound of the last toll of the bell.
Standing in her doorway, Naomi called his name, “Alderton!”, the last syllable dying on the eerily silent forest air.
***
Alderton ran through the tall iron gates of Markumhold just as night fell. There were no guards,which struck him as extremely odd. But he didn't stop running. A shift in the darkness, a loud clanging as a tin cup fell to the ground and rolled toward the slight decline in the middle of the main road. Stopping, he stared at the shadows where the cup had materialized. An orange tabby cat leaped from some raised surface toward its shiny metal prize, lapping up the remains of its previous contents. Something up ahead caught his eye. He turned just in time to catch a shadow vanishing into a nearby alley.
Moving slowly forward, he called out, “Who's there?” His strong voice rang painfully loud in the unnatural silence.
Another clanging, and a shifting of cloth. Someone was moving with an attempt at stealth through the dark alley from the market street to the narrows which were a short-cut to the Cathedral and the military barracks. Alderton had no time to think. No one who's purpose was pure would move so secretively near a priest of the town. Taking just three large strides, he caught his adversary, who was short and struggling to move faster. Alderton grabbed the shadowy figure by the trailing cloak they used to hide their identity. The subject gasped,spun and threw an unknown powder into Alderton's eyes.
He was in excruciating pain, but it was quickly ebbing away. His hearing was hollow and his vision was completely blurred. But he could hear the one who had blinded him speaking quickly in hushed tones to him. As his hearing returned to him, he heard a note of panic in the person's voice.
“Go quickly Alderton! They know, they do not approve and the order has been given. Oh forgive me,I have such little time, this was the only way I knew to get your attention. The affects will only last a few more moments. You must go or they will take whats most important to you forever!” The panicked voice rambled.
“Who are you? What are you talking about? What have you done to me?” He swung his large fist in the direction of the voice. He heard a swish,as the person dodged him. “What are they taking?”
“Her.” And with that, the mysterious informant vanished from his awareness. But it mattered not now. He didn't know exactly who “they” were or why they were after Naomi. But he did know that the bell had been a lure to bring him away from her. He had to get back.
***
Naomi was sitting in front of her little fireplace staring into the flames, but not seeing them. Thoughts of the secret she bore ran rapidly through her mind. She began closing her eyes, feeling the pull of fatigue on her body and mind.
Just before her eyes shut entirely the flames in the fireplace burst to life taking the form of a snarling dog. Frightened out of her relaxed state, Naomi jumped to her feet, knocking her chair over in the process. Eyes wide, staring into the feebly flickering flames. A rigorous banging at the front door rattled the hinges.
“Who's there?” Naomi called trying to keep her voice from shaking.
“It's me! Open the door Naomi!” Alderton called, sounding muffled but panicked from the other side of the wooden door.
Naomi opened the door, Alderton lost no time in scooping her into a suffocating embrace. Setting her down he whispered, “I was so afraid.”
“Why?” Naomi asked as she watched Alderton move around the room, grabbing a ruck sack and shoving an assortment of items into it, his eyes wide, his mouth open, repeating something methodically, silently. “Alderton, what on earth is going on?” Her voice shaking now, at the site of Alderton, the rock, her stability, seeming so out of sorts.
There was the sound of many footsteps outside and lowered voices. Alderton moved quickly around the room blowing out the candles and dumping the bucket of dirt beside the fireplace to put out the fire without any smoke. Naomi could see the torches held by a handful of men approaching her house. A knot welled up in her throat making it hard to breathe. Swallowing hard, she jumped as Alderton spun her around and shoved the now full ruck sack in her hands. He led her to the back door. He glanced to the front door as the voices grew louder. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes.
“Meet me at the Cedar Pond Inn, in Ffaernvale.” He said hurriedly. “I will hold them off, but you must go.”
“Wait! I won't leave you.” Naomi wrapped her arms tightly around Alderton's neck and kissed him. Alderton returned her kiss by pressing his lips harder to hers. Squeezing her tightly he tried to soak in every last minute with her, breathing in the soft flowery smell of her hair, the warmth of her body pressed so tightly to his, the sound of her breathing. It was all so intoxicating he almost forgot entirely about the urgency of the situation at hand. But the banging on the door brought him sharply back to reality.
“Open up!” Came a booming voice from the front of the hut. “By order of the Grand Marshal Alexander Conway, open this door now!”
Naomi slowly released her grip from Alderton's neck. Both of them stood still, silent, staring unblinkingly in the direction of the voice. Alderton turned his eyes back to Naomi. She met his gaze, understanding dawning on both of their faces. Rage boiled up in Alderton's body. His face felt flushed, his heart began to race, a knot was forming in his throat, his vision blurring around the edges and becoming almost tunnel-like. He closed his eyes, balling his hands into fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
“Conway.” He said between clenched teeth, drawing out the last syllable and scowling as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. Alderton turned to make for the front door, every inch of his body tensed and ready to fight his way through who ever got in his way until he reached the Grand Marshal. But something cool touched his hand and brought him around. The sensation was enough to bring his senses back under his control.
“Alderton, please do not act rashly.” Said Naomi and the sound of her voice was all it took to calm the rest of his rage.
His focus returned to her and his desperation to get her out of the house was mounting. Quickly he grabbed her hand and crossed the room pulling her in tow. Reaching the back door he said quietly and hurriedly, “Remember what I said? The Cedar Pond Inn, Ffaernvale. Now please Naomi, before they surround the house and our chances of getting out alive are reduced greatly. Go.”
Nodding her agreement, Naomi opened the back door as quietly as possible. Looking at her surroundings carefully, listening hard for any nearby assailants but finding none she stepped down the two steps to the bare earth. She turned to look at Alderton one last time. He was closer to her than she had been expecting and it almost threw her off balance, but seeing this he gripped her arms just below her shoulders to steady her. She looked into his eyes, her own brimming with tears.
“Alderton...” The words died as quickly as they formed on her lips.
He urged her towards the woods. “Please, just go.” He pushed her gently. “Please.”
Turning she began to run. Stopping just as she reached the first of the trees, she turned and looked back to watch as Alderton was moving back into the house. Glancing just long enough to see the last of him disappear into the darkness. The tears in her eyes threatened to blind her, finally flooding down her cheeks, placing one of her hands on her stomach just below her navel she whispered to the cool night air, “I love you.” Knowing she may never see him again.
Once more facing the dark forest she took off at a run. There was a loud crash behind her just as she entered the first small clearing in the dense woods that surrounded her home. She continued running through the other edge of the clearing stooping to avoid being hit by a large fallen tree. As she stumbled to regain her balance after almost crawling she ran blindly into another fallen tree, this one slightly lower leaving her with no choice but to climb over, on the other side she was ensnared on a dead thorn bush. The more she struggled with the cloth of her dress the more tangled she became. The tears which were still streaming down her face were now purely of frustration. Trying to stay as quiet as possible she continued to tug desperately at the material. It finally tore, freeing her into yet more branches, brambles and thorns which seemed to reach out and grab for her. The very forest appeared to be assisting in the injustice of her current plight. Allowing a tiny gasp of anguish to escape her quickly drying lips as a tall thorn reached out for her face and scratched mercilessly at her right cheek, instantly drawing a thick line of blood which ran gratuitously, as face wounds often do, down to her chin, she ran on as fast as her legs could carry her through the forest which was becoming harder to navigate as the moon fell slowly behind a cascade of dark clouds.
***
Alderton was moving to the door just as the men outside broke it down and moved in, sweeping around the main room to surround him, two of them knocking the door to the bedroom down. They could be heard roughly searching the room for a hiding person. A tall, formidable man with well maintained blond hair flowing in all the right places just over his ears and eyes, dressed formally in his golden chain mail armor, reinforced by strikingly clean silver half plate mail shoulder and chest guards, topped by the bright blue tabard with a golden, bejeweled chalice backed by a setting sun embossed richly in the middle of his chest representing the church, stepped as gracefully as a man with so much muscle and armor could through the small door and into the room directly in front of Alderton, never breaking eye contact with him. An attempt at a warming smile was made, but Alderton's rage was back and no pleasantries made by this man would break his cold hatred for him.
“Patron Alderton,” The Grand Marshal simpered in his deep baritone voice,”my dear friend, how find you the weather tonight?”
“Do not mock me Alexander Conway.” Alderton stated flatly.
The Grand Marshal's smile faltered at the austere response to his all to conventional inquiry. “Addressing me so informally is a bold move for a man in your current situation, Patron.” He moved a few steps closer to Alderton, just enough to properly look down upon him. “Where is the woman?”
Smiling mockingly, Alderton replied, “Do you not know? You sure make her every movement your personal business, I am surprised to find you looking under beds this night, where have you been the past few hours Grand Marshal, sir, that you have not had at least one eye on the woman lest you lose a moment's breath chasing the very rainbow you can never hope to reach?”
There might have never been a smile on the Grand Marshal's face. He stared Alderton down with the eyes of a well seasoned hawk swooping down upon its prey. “I will ask you one more time, where is the woman?” There was no mistaking his sincerity in stating the finality of the question, placing a palpable weight on the silence that hung in the air, baiting an answer.
Alderton said nothing. Staring up into the cold steel blue eyes of the man who with a single word could end his life, a small defiant smile spread across the priest's face. But still he said nothing. He knelt to the ground and began to pray.
***
The forest around Naomi became terribly quiet. She stumbled to a clumsy halt on the far side of a large oak tree. Leaning precariously against the wide trunk of the the aged tree she clutched a stitch in her side. Trying to catch her breath she listened hard but could hear nothing. She held her breath momentarily, struggling to hear a sign, a crunch, a distant voice, anything. But everything remained silent. All she could hear was the blood pumping powerfully through her ears. Adrenaline was still coursing through her veins making her arms and legs shake.
A noise ahead of her caught her attention, a shift in the darkness. Naomi's eyes couldn't focus. It was so dark she could barely see her hand in front of her face. Holding her breath again to hear if maybe it was just a forest critter or something more, there was another sound behind her. She turned quickly to try and catch site of what ever was moving around her but whatever it was, it was moving just beyond her field of vision.
A low guttural growl came from straight ahead of her. Staring, eyes wide in the direction of the sound as a pair of brightly glowing yellow eyes suddenly appeared moving closer, intent upon her. Fear welled up in her throat. As she watched, a sharp muzzle came into view, lined with dripping, sharp yellow fangs. The mouth opened slightly as another rumble of growls escaped its hungry mouth. A long line of saliva dripped to the ground. She moved back out of instinct, tripping over a root sitting above ground, she fell hard against the tree whose root had taken her balance. Her head made solid contact with the wide trunk, sending sharp pains through her eyes, she lost focus for a second as stars danced at the edge of her vision.
A stick snapped to her right and another snarling wolf came out of the darkness, on her left another, and another and another. All growling and drooling. Naomi's breath was coming fast, she was beginning to feel light headed. She knew she had to run or do something fast, or she was going to be torn to pieces. The dog straight ahead of her prepared to pounce, the others followed suit.
As the dogs leaped, time seemingly slowed to a complete halt. Naomi closed her eyes. She appeared to have left the conscious world. In the place she was now, everything changed. It looked as if the entire scene melted, warped and twisted into something else. The leaves on the trees individually burst into flame. The branches grew and turned, becoming gnarled and ugly. The grass died in a wave of heat and fire leaving nothing but a black death stretching out as far as the eye could see, marked here and there by constantly burning bushes. Shadows everywhere, cast by the many sources of fire light. All shadows lived. They more than danced with the flickers, they moved with thought, they breathed the ashes.
She opened her eyes. She could just barely make out the dancing shadows of the creatures frozen in time snarling and leaping for her. She whispered something to the winds as the air around her shimmered and shook with power, with darkness. Almost inaudibly she said, “Ahl hait weihtl.”
As she breathed the last word the darkness that had been building up around her seated amongst the flames on the dead earth violently burst out, blasting everything within several yards of her, throwing the wolves back, tumbling and thrashing violently with the pain that shot through them as the shadows entered their bodies. The shadows rolled quickly across the twisted landscape extinguishing the fires and bringing Naomi back into reality. She woke to find that she was alone and a silence unlike any other had befallen her little thicket. Her breathing was shallow and quick. She hated using her magic, not only did it weaken her but it scared her. She had no control over it once unleashed and spending any amount of time at all in the reality within the true reality was taxing. The evil weighed on her heart and soul, attacking her spirit and youth.
Naomi stood slowly, feeling slightly dizzy as she did. There was a man's voice in the distance, calling out. He had said her name. Glancing around the trunk of the large tree she saw the light of a torch several yards away. She knew they were coming for her. Her terror renewed she began to run through the woods once more.
She heard the sound of fast moving water, and knew she had reached the river. As the trees thinned she could see the moonlight shining brightly off the broken surface of the rushing waters. The river was wide and deep and extremely cold. She knew from experience. She washed clothes in this river further up where the waters were calmer and closer to her little home. Thinking back to her home she thought of Alderton. If they're already coming for me, she thought, what does that mean for Alderton? Is he still alive? Oh please God let it be so.
She hurried to the edge of the water and began to run south along the river. But as she did so several men broke free of the trees several yards upriver of her and began shouting as they spotted her. She panicked more than ever now and ran as fast as her feet would carry her. But the men were faster. They were closing the distance quickly. She had to do something to escape them and quickly. She turned on the spot and dove straight into the water. Her breath caught in her chest at the shock of the freezing cold water. She gasped and took in some water, choking and making it worse now feeling like daggers were being stabbed repeatedly into her lungs. She tried to kick for the surface, feeling her muscles begin to tighten and ache from the icy waters. Everything was silent, she could hear nothing but her blood pumping in her ears.
Naomi broke the surface of the waters to a rush of sounds so loud and overwhelming she couldn't make out what was going on, or even which way was which. The rough waters were dragging her quickly down river, splashing water in her nose, eyes and mouth making her choke further. She thought she was going to die.
Copyright May 2007
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