Reviews of Progeny
“For me, Progeny is in league with both The Chronicles of Narnia and Lord of the Rings and far better than Harry Potter—Progeny has a wealth of depth to it that I haven’t seen in many books.”
—M. Jermy, Clover Hill Book Reviews
“Kaelin has a way with words that fully immerses the reader, demanding they invest themselves in the story he has created; much like Terry Goodkind and Christopher Paolini.”
—Corrine, Lost For Words
“I was soon swept up into a world so large, and a tale so relentless, that I could not put it down.”
—Diane Kistner, FutureCycle Press
“I would favorably compare his writing with
Brandon Sanderson, Scott Lynch, Robert Jordan and even a bit of David Eddings flavor mixed in.”
—C. Shadis, LuxuryReading.com
“Cleverly conceived and expertly crafted, Kaelin demonstrates great talent as a writer with this work.“
—Lisa Guerrero, Her Book Self Book Reviews
“I found the author carefully planned out the topography, the language, the poetry, and the events just like Tolkien…I think that is partly why I loved the book so much.”
—T. Peterson, Family Literacy and You
Visit www.rtkaelin.com for The Terrene Chronicles, a series of short stories that take place in the years leading up to the events of Progeny
***~~~***
Progeny (The Children of the White Lions)
R.T. Kaelin
Published by Terrene Press at Smashwords
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 R.T. Kaelin
Discover other titles by R.T. Kaelin at Smashwords.com
***~~~***
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
©2010, R.T. Kaelin
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted by any means,
electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or
otherwise without written permission from the author.
Print ISBN-13: 978-0-615-42103-2
Copy Editing and Book Design by Donna Overall
donnaoverall@bellsouth.net
Cover Design by R.T. Kaelin
Columbus, Ohio
Acknowledgements
I can think of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of other things I would have thought I might do in my life before writing acknowledgements for a book I had written. Nevertheless, here I am.
I would like to thank my wife for supporting me through this effort. I cannot imagine what she thought when I told her one day, “Hey, I’m going to write a book.” Lisa, you are a terrific wife and wonderful mother.
Thank you to my two children, whose spirit and love inspire me every day. As you grow older (and learn to read), I hope you enjoy the story you helped contribute to without knowing.
To my first editor who must have gone through quite a few red pens to kill my love affair with semicolons—especially in the beginning—thanks, Mom.
Thank you to all the friends and family members who took the time to read some early versions for their feedback and encouragement.
Thank you to a pair of sisters, Diane Kistner and Donna Overall, for hearing my call for help and being infinitely patient with their advice and guidance.
Thank you to anyone reading this book. I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I did writing it. Let us see where our travels go.
The roar of the Lions will drive back the spawn,
And the lines of men, strong once again, will be redrawn.
Yet that which drives man’s soul will fray at the seams,
While the strength of the Lions will fade as do last night’s dreams.
Torn apart by deceit and distrust,
One will perish and One will be lost.
One will leave, while Another will stay.
And Two shall find each Other one day.
Against his will, one must fight,
While it falls upon the Half-man to unite.
Chaos will rise again, unraveling what has been made,
With Strife, Pain, and Deception in tow, lending aid.
Hidden, then found,
Willingly come around,
The Progeny must rise to lead the fight,
Along with new and old, seek to make it right.
– As recorded by High
Priest en’Sul, First of Indrida
3rd day of the Turn of Lamoth,
4639
The Oaken Duchies
Contents
Chapter 1:Water
The day was unbearably hot.
It was the high point of summer, the eighth day of the Turn of Sutri, when the days were long and the heat oppressive. The broiling, yellow-white sun stretched down from the sky, its scorching rays toasting anything they touched. From horizon to heat-shimmering horizon, the sky was barren of even a hint of a wispy cloud. Days this time of year where anything besides the sun was in the sky were rare. Even the birds huddled in the cover of shade, content to be bound to the earth rather than fly exposed to the glaring heat. Any suggestion of rainfall was laughable.
Two figures braved the day, hurrying up a sloping hill though a dry, sparse oak and ash forest, walking beside a small stream that was too perfect of a straight line to be a natural creek. Heading against the flow of the water, the pair worked their way up a small rise, following alongside on a path well worn with use. Small bushes with yellowing, crisped-edged leaves trying valiantly to survive the summer’s heat littered the right side of the path, yearning to taste the water that flowed so near.
Leading the pair was a young man in his seventeenth summer, caught between being a boy and a man. He was tall and a little lanky, but with broad shoulders and strong legs that indicated he would be powerfully built in a few more years. His close-cropped, sandy-brown hair stuck up stubbornly like a bristly brush, refusing to lie in any specific direction. Even though his skin was fair, he had developed a tan from years in the sun. His dark brown eyes were set in a glare straight ahead, and his mouth drew tight with a barely contained grin. Wearing simple-spun, drab brown field clothes and boots, he looked exceedingly common.
From behind him a girl’s voice called, “Nikalys! Will you please slow down? My legs aren’t as long as yours!”
Back along the trail, the second figure was scurrying along, half-walking and half-running. As ordinary looking as the boy was, the girl following him was anything but. She appeared a year or two younger than her companion was and her looks hinted that, in a few years’ time, she would be a beauty rivaled by few. Golden hair the color of early-Harvest wheat cascaded down her back, straight except for the ends that turned up into large, sweeping curls. In the bright light of the day’s sun, her eyes shone green but when hidden in the shade of a large tree, they seemed a light, rusty brown. Like the boy she was hurrying after, her clothes were simple—a light summer skirt of dusty tan that stopped past the knees, a pale lavender blouse, and sturdy leather sandals strapped to her feet.
Without turning around, the boy stopped for a moment and waited, back still turned to the girl but with a sly smile on his face.
Running up to him, the blonde girl said in between deep breaths, “Nikalys, you lout, I hate it when you leave me behind. You know that!”
With a feigned sigh, Nikalys turned around. He looked down—he stood nearly a full head taller—and said, “Yeah…well, you should grow your legs a little longer, then, Kenders.” The smile he had been trying to hold back escaped, beaming across his face.
She gave him a playful slap on the shoulder and with an impish grin replied, “I’ll get right on that.” Quickly, she reached out, grabbing Nikalys’ arm, and tugged him toward her, down the hill slope. Throwing him off balance, she used his weight to pull herself uphill propelling past him and immediately breaking into a sprint off the path and to the northeast. Over her shoulder, she shouted, “Bet you can’t catch me before we reach the lake!”
Grinning widely, Nikalys allowed a few seconds to pass in order to give his sister a head start, and then took off after her, through the prominent brush and wooden-stick bushes that sprung up once off the path. The ground was mostly dust and dirt, spottily covered in places where crusty dead leaves had fallen, abandoning trees and plants, unable to endure the hot and dry summer conditions.
They climbed the hill, heading up to the lake side they had been to countless times before. Nikalys caught glimpses of his sister dashing through the trees ahead as she deftly chose her route, trying to beat him to their favorite swimming hole at the lake. After a few minutes, Nikalys realized that he was going to have to try a little harder to catch up to his sister than he was used to—she was no longer running like the child she had been just a couple of seasons ago, but rather with the long strides of an adult.
Peering through the trunks of the oak and ash trees, he saw her dip into the small, shaded gully that meant they were near the lake. Deciding he needed to give it his all if he was going to catch her, he began to sprint as fast as he could. Cresting the edge of the gully, he slid rather than ran down the side and burst into a small clearing, nearly colliding with a stationary Kenders. Skidding to a stop, he grabbed her arms and, together, they both shuffled forward a few steps. Somehow, the pair avoided crashing to the ground. She had been standing completely still in the middle of the clearing when he arrived, rooted in place like one of the many trees around them.
Panting, out of breath from the dash to the lake, Nikalys peered down at his sister. “Kenders? You okay? Why’d you stop like—”
Putting up one of her fingers to her mouth, she motioned for him to be silent. She was breathing heavily as well but was doing her best to keep her gasping as muted as possible. He understood that she wanted him to be quiet, but he had no idea why. There was nothing nearby other than the chance rabbit or quail. Yellow Mud was a few miles to the south, so the chances that someone else from the village was up here were low. Scanning the underbrush, he listened for the rustling of a small wild animal, perhaps a rabbit, and wondered if that was what Kenders had heard. Nikalys chastised himself.
Hells, I should have brought my sling.
Slowly spinning in a circle, arms slightly outstretched in front of her, Kenders scanned the clearing and the surrounding trees. After a few moments, she turned back in the direction of the lake and whispered, “It’s coming from there.”
Turning to look the way his sister was staring, Nikalys asked quietly with raised eyebrows, “Umm… what’s coming from there? If you think you hear something, you’ve got better ears than—”
“Shush!” insisted Kenders.
Thoroughly confused at this point and a bit annoyed at being hushed again, Nikalys studied his sister. Her eyes were unfocused and distant, as though she was trying very hard to recall a faint memory or straining to hear the last fading note of a song that just ended.
Unable to contain his curiosity, he asked, “What is it? What’s going on?” Shaking herself out of her small trance, she looked over at Nikalys. Confusion and uncertainty filled her eyes.
“I don’t know, Nik. I was running for the swimming hole and suddenly a… feeling came over me. It was like…” She paused, searching for the right comparison. “You know the sound straw makes when you take a handful and crumple it up?”
What an odd thing to say.
Nikalys twisted up his face and stared at his sister with uncertainty. “I suppose so…”
Her eyes went unfocused again. “It was like that, only I didn’t hear it—it was more like I felt what crushing straw sounds like. Sort of crackling inside of my head. Well, maybe not my head, more like… oh, I don’t know.” Frustration at not being able to explain herself, mixed with the confusion of what she was feeling, combined to create a unique expression on his sister’s face. “Does that make any sense?” she asked, glancing at him with a twinge of hope in her eyes.
Nikalys paused a moment, unsure of how to handle such a statement. “Not really. Although I think I might know what it is, though.”
Her voice full of hope, she asked, “Really?”
In as a serious tone as he could muster, he said, “Yeah, sis. It means you’re going mad.” Taking two steps closer, she smacked him hard on the shoulder, her fist closed.
“Ouch!” Nikalys rubbed his left arm. “That actually hurt.”
She’s really upset…
“I’m not joking, Nikalys. I felt some—” She stopped, spinning around quickly, facing northwest. “There it is again. You don’t hear—feel—it?” Holding still for a moment, Nikalys tried to see if he heard, or felt, anything.
“Sorry, I don’t.” He paused, studying her. Even if he did not sense anything, it was obvious that she believed she did. Allowing that something unusual might actually be happening, he said, “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Staring at him, with a touch of fear in her eyes, she said simply, “Yes.”
A hollow feeling took root in his stomach. Taking a few steps, staring in the direction Kenders had indicated, he asked quietly, “You said ‘it’ was coming from that direction, right?” With a short, quick nod, Kenders answered in the affirmative. Deciding he wanted to know what was going on, Nikalys said, “Well, let’s go see what’s up there, then.”
Kenders reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it hard. With a soft pleading in her voice he did not really understand, Kenders begged, “Nik, we need to be careful. I don’t know why—but I just know.”
What in the Nine Hells is going on here?
With a small, reassuring pat on her head, Nikalys grinned and said, “Fine, sis. We’ll be careful.”
The pair started up the small rise of the gully, heading to the lake.
* * *
Lake Hawthorne and its smaller sister lake to the west, Orctears Lake, were the two largest within the Oaken Duchies and the inspiration for the name of the duchy itself, the Great Lakes Duchy. It took nearly a week to cross Lake Hawthorne by boat at its widest point spanning from the southwestern shore to the northeastern bank. A few large cities surrounded the lake’s coast, thriving from the numerous trade routes that crisscrossed its vast surface. Sitting on the southeastern banks of the lake where the White Falls tumbled into the valley below, giving birth to the Great White River, Smithshill had grown into the largest city on Lake Hawthorne, evolving into a great center of trade over the centuries. The river that flowed from the city traveled in a southerly direction before turning to the east and travelling all the way to the Sea of Kings at the great city of Prince’s Port.
Besides the larger towns and cities, dozens of small villages dotted the southern and northern edges of the lake. Primarily farming communities, the residents utilized the water from the lake in intricate irrigation systems to grow all types of crops that thrived in the hot summers and mild winters. The settlement of Yellow Mud was just such a place.
Barely a village, Yellow Mud numbered no more than a few hundred people. The fields surrounding the town were tended in a joint effort by all of the townspeople and the harvest shared equally by those who worked the field, each family permitted to do with their share as they saw fit. The saffron and ochre colored soil that gave the town its name was particularly fertile—as long as there was enough water—and suited for growing both crisp, white grapes and plump, green olives. Vineyards and olive groves spread throughout the cleared meadows surrounding Yellow Mud, producing some of the best grapes and olives in the southern Duchies. The very robust economy in Smithshill was based partially on the trading of goods and produce from villages like Yellow Mud.
Nikalys and Kenders had grown up working with their family, helping in the vineyards and groves every growing season since they were old enough to help carry a basket or tool. During certain times of the year—midsummer being one of them—there was little to do but some minor tending of the land while waiting for their crops to grow. Luckily, nearby Lake Hawthorne provided the means to keep cool in the oppressively hot sun.
Today was Seventhday, traditionally a day when people rested, taking the afternoon off to spend time with family and friends. Instead of having to work this morning, though, the siblings had been relieved of any responsibilities when their father had told his two youngest children to enjoy the entire day, holding back their older brother Jak to help with a few chores in the olive groves. The younger brother and sister had not argued and had sprinted off before their father could change his mind. Jealous at their reprieve, Jak had called out that he would join them when he was done.
Now Nikalys and Kenders quietly picked their way through the forest that edged the lake, carefully looking all around them, but mostly focused in the direction Kenders had indicated she had sensed something. Nikalys was not sure what he expected to see, but he wanted to be as ready as possible for whatever it was. With a small chuckle, he acknowledged the absurdity of such thought, muttering to himself, “Only a fool expects the unexpected.”
A few steps behind him, Kenders whispered, “What?”
Over his shoulder, he said quietly, “Nothing. Just a funny thought. Something Father said to me once.”
A minute or so later, Nikalys stopped moving through the brush and held up his hand. Kenders stopped, too, and looked up at her brother expectantly.
In a hushed voice, Nikalys said, “We’re near the edge of the lake. Have you ‘felt’ anything else since the clearing?”
“Sort of. It comes and goes. Each time it felt stronger—like we are getting closer.” She paused, reluctant to continue. “Also… I… oh, never mind. It sounds strange.”
Nikalys raised an eyebrow and said, “Stranger than feeling straw crumbling in your head?”
“Crackling,” she corrected. “And it’s not really in my head, it’s more like…bah! It’s tough to explain. I feel it inside, but all around, too. And now the colors are—” Halting, she gave Nikalys a sidelong glance, nervous and a little embarrassed.
“Colors?” Nikalys was not sure he heard her right.
Chagrined, Kenders slowly said, “Yeah, I keep feeling the color blue.”
“How do you ‘feel’ a color?”
“I don’t know, Nik. How am I ‘feeling’ the crackling sound? Like I said, it’s hard to explain!”
The only thing clear right now was his sister’s frustration. A troubling thought entered his mind as the hollow feeling in his stomach grew. With a worried look directed toward Kenders, he said, “I hope you aren’t feeling what I think you might be, sis.”
With a sharp look tinged with fear, Kenders nearly shouted, “Don’t say it!” Apparently, the thought had occurred to her as well. After a moment, she continued in a quieter voice, “I don’t know what it is I’m feeling. Perhaps we should just go back home and forget everything about this?”
“Oh come on, Kenders. You don’t know what’s going on. Maybe you’ve had too much sun today.”
With an un-amused look, Kenders said, “It’s not even midday, yet.”
“Still, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.” Hoping to relax her, Nikalys forced a teasing grin and said, “Besides, I won’t turn you in to the Constables if you can really do magic.” The look on her face told him the possibility she was sensing magic had indeed occurred to her.
Gods, I pray that is not what is happening here.
A moment later, still trying to get her—and himself, as well—to calm down, he added, “Unless the reward is really high.”
With wide eyes, Kenders hissed, “Stop it, Nik!”
Nikalys could see that his good-natured teasing was not having the desired effect. Kenders was very upset by what was going on, so he changed tactics. Walking over to her, he took her hand and said gently, “Hey, whatever it is, you’re my sister. Even if it is magic, I would never turn you in to the Constables. It would be our secret, sis. How does that…” He let his voice trail off as he heard a strange sound from direction of the lake. Kenders heard it, too, and the two siblings stared at each other.
“What is that?” asked Kenders.
With a quizzical look on his face, Nikalys said slowly, “I’d say it sounded like a waterfall. At least that’s what the White Falls sound like in Smithshill.” Tilting his head to one side, trying to hear the sound more clearly, he continued, “But there aren’t any falls anywhere near here.”
“Let’s get a closer look,” said Kenders, curious.
“Oh—now you’re brave, are you?”
With a playful shove, Kenders moved past Nikalys and headed to the break in the trees. He was only a step behind.
The two reached the edge of the tree line and peered out over Lake Hawthorne, the water’s surface running clear to the northern horizon. A small slope reached down from where they stood to the edge of the mostly sandy shore, covered with smooth rocks and stones. Most of the stones were the size of a small melon, but some larger rocks lay strewn about the dark, muddy sand. Nikalys looked over toward one particularly large boulder where he had spent countless afternoons, resting in the sun after a nice swim in the cool water of the lake. Shoreline ran as far as the eye could see to the east and west, jutting out into the water in some places and retreating south in others.
Nikalys’ father had said the entire lake took anywhere from three to seven days to cross, depending on where you started and ended, of course. Nikalys could barely comprehend something so large. When his parents shared with their children stories about the great Sea of Kings to the east that supposedly made Lake Hawthorne look like a small puddle, he was convinced they were just jesting with him.
“Gods, look at that!” exclaimed Kenders.
Turning to see what caused his sister’s alarm, he saw Kenders standing rigid, her right arm wrapped around the rough trunk of one of the tall ash trees prominent in the area and her left arm pointing to the northwest.
“What is it, Kenders?”
Looking up, before she could respond, he followed her line of sight and outstretched arm, his own gaze traveling over the water. What he saw caused his eyes to widen in disbelief and sent a sharp spike of fear running through him.
How did I miss that?
To the northwest, nearly a mile offshore, was a giant wave rising from the water. Nearly as high as the trees on shore, Nikalys judged the wave was just under a hundred feet tall. Frozen by fear, he held rock-still for only a moment before he grabbed Kenders arm, starting to pull her away. Opening his mouth, he prepared to shout his intention to run but stopped short. Something was wrong with the wave.
“It isn’t moving,” whispered Kenders. She had noticed the same thing he had.
“How is that possible?”
Kenders looked at Nikalys, and he was struck by the remarkable calm her eyes revealed. “Magic.” Gazing back at the enormous wave, Kenders said, “That must be what I’ve been feeling. I don’t think I can deny it.”
With his hand still holding her arm, Nikalys pulled her back into the trees slowly. Neither of them was able to take their eyes off the wave until they were in the forest and the trees blocked their view. Nikalys looked hard at his sister and demanded, “What do you mean, ‘that must be what you’ve been feeling?’ How can you be sure? That’s what the crackling is all about?”
Kenders stared at the ground, almost ashamed. Without looking up, she said, “I don’t know. I guess it has to be, doesn’t it? That crackling straw feeling I described to you? When I’m staring at that wave on the water, I can feel it there. I can feel the blueness—whatever that means. I swore I could almost see it…” She paused and gazed back toward the direction of the wave with a smile on her face. “Whatever is out there is…echoing inside of me.”
She is almost enjoying this.
Sanity returned to her expression. With pleading eyes, she said, “Please don’t tell anyone, Nikalys. Please?”
Nikalys stared down at his little sister. He loved her with all of his heart and would do whatever it took to protect her. However, if she was able to use magic, duchy law named her a criminal. As an outlaw mage, she would be taken away and he would never see her again.
Of course, that is only if anyone else finds out about it.
Opening his arms, he said, “Come here, sis.” She fell toward him and he embraced her, holding her tight for a moment. Gently, he said, “This can be another one of our secrets, okay? Just like about where some of Mother’s grape tarts go when she gets done baking them, right?”
Through a sniffle, Kenders said, “Right.” Looking up and smiling weakly, she said quietly, “Thank you.”
Trying to tease her again, Nikalys said, “Like I said before, though, if the reward gets high enough…” That earned him a sharp jab under the ribs, causing him to “oof” and bend over. Nikalys decided he needed to learn to stop taunting his sister. She was getting a bit too tough now.
With a deep breath, he straightened up and stared down at her. Surprisingly, Kenders had one of her big smiles on her face, already putting her concerns behind her. Kenders was able to do that and Nikalys had never understood how. Both he and Jak held on to things too long, but Kenders could forget a bad mood like it never happened. This time, however, her good mood faded almost as quickly as the roaring sound of water surged, growing louder.
Brother and sister quickly moved back to the edge of the forest and, standing behind two large oak trunks, peered back out over the water. In the few moments since they had left their observation spot, the wave had changed shape, growing taller and thinner. It began to take on proportions that made it look less like a wave and more like something that felt familiar, but it was still too nebulous for Nikalys to give it a name. All the while, the roaring of water shifted and grew in intensity, pressuring his ears as if he had dived too deep in the lake. Even at this distance, a fine mist, like an early morning spring fog, coated the pair, gently soaking their hair and clothes, cooling them from the heat of the day.
Kenders mused, “Nikalys, what does that look like to you?”
It took him a second, but he finally recognized the shape at which he was staring.
“It almost looks like the shape of a person. But it’s wrong, somehow. The shoulders are too wide and the arms are too big. And where are the legs?” He let out a strained chuckle. “Listen to me! ‘Where are the legs of the giant wave of water?’ If I wasn’t staring at it, I would think it was another one of Father’s stories.”
The creature continued to grow, and its shape became more defined. By now, it towered over the largest trees and stood at least two few hundred feet tall. It had a head, torso, and arms, but where its waist should have been, it spread out in a giant swirling pyramid of water.
“What’s that? Down there on the surface?” asked Kenders.
Barely able to tear his eyes from the water creature, Nikalys looked down near the base of the wave. There, for the first time, he noticed five figures wearing dark grey robes and lighter grey cloaks. All five people stood facing the creature, their backs to Nikalys and Kenders. It took a second for it to register that they were, in fact, standing on the surface of the lake.
“I think we found your source of magic, Kenders. Those men—and women, I think—are doing something to the lake. Whatever is going on, they have to be causing it.”
“Yes… I think you’re right, Nik. Now that I see them, I know they are the source. Although…” She paused and closed her eyes, almost as if she were listening. “Yes, there’s more. They aren’t the only ones. Perhaps on the other side of that thing?”
“More mages? Gods… What do we do?”
Neither sibling had an answer, so they both stood silent, watching the water figure coalesce more and more into the shape of a man, growing taller and wider by the second.
Suddenly, the roaring of water stopped, cutting off in an instant. Across the lake’s surface, Nikalys watched as the five grey figures slouched some but remained where they stood. A single figure wearing deep red robes and a black hooded cloak came from around the opposite side of the water creature, also walking on the lake. Something about the way the person stepped with long, easy strides seemed out of place to Nikalys. Stopping before the water creature, the figure pulled back the hood of the cloak to reveal bright white-blond hair, brilliant in the sunlight.
Nikalys leaned over toward his sister and said, “Even from this distance, Kenders, I would almost say that’s an elf from the way he moves. But I’ve never seen one with hair like that.”
On his annual journeys with his father and Jak to Smithshill, he had had the occasion to see elves, his father sharing with him that an enclave of elvish folk lived in one of the great pine forests to the north. His father had also insisted an entire nation of elves existed far away, across the Red Peaks. However, because his father liked to tell grand stories, Nikalys was not sure if he could believe such a tale. An entire nation full of only elves seemed a little farfetched.
“Father did say there were different kinds of elves, didn’t he?” asked Kenders. “Maybe he’s not like the ones you saw in the city.”
Nikalys shrugged. “Maybe. But Father also told us he once caught a fish from this lake the size of a horse cart. And it could talk. And they played a game of knuckles before he let him go.”
With a small smile, Kenders replied, “Yes, well. After seeing this, perhaps he was telling the truth?”
“About the fish?”
“No, silly! About the elves. He said there were elves that looked different from the ones that live in the forests in the north, right?” Mimicking their father’s deep voice, which sounded very odd coming from her, she said, “‘With golden-white hair the color of the sun itself.’” Switching back to her normal, softer voice, she asked, “He called them Sun Elves, right?”
With a small grunt, Nikalys grudgingly admitted that perhaps his father had told the truth.
At least this time.
Nikalys stared across the water, watching the elf closely.
Kenders asked, “Is he talking to it?”
Although the figure in the red robes was quite a distance away, it did seem as though he was speaking to the giant water creature. The massive water form was perfectly still and looking down at the elf as if it was listening intently.
The elf walked to the side of the creature, closer to the five grey-clad figures. Afraid that the elf might spot him, Nikalys moved further behind the oak tree. Almost immediately, he felt foolish when he realized that the Sun Elf would have almost no way of seeing him amidst the clutter of the forest.
When the elf reached the five figures, he violently motioned to the south and shouted something neither of the siblings could understand. The giant water creature began to move swiftly over the surface of Lake Hawthorne, heading south.
Watching it move, Nikalys noted its lower half was a mass of tumbling waves, as though a huge storm had churned up the lake. However, these whitecaps were hundreds of times larger than the largest wave Nikalys had ever seen on the lake, even during the sometimes-violent spring storms. The creature moved with astonishing speed, reaching the shore of the lake that was more than a mile away in less than a minute.
“Look at how fast it’s moving,” muttered Nikalys.
When the water creature crashed onto the shore, it tore through the trees, ripping them from the ground as if they were kindling wood. From their vantage point, brother and sister could see that the water figure was at least a quarter of a mile wide. Not slowing down, it crashed onwards to the south. A wall of water rose up and followed the creature, flooding the forest behind it. The mages on the surface of the water hovered safely above the tumultuous lake surface, and Nikalys saw four more grey-cloaked figures who had been hidden behind the creature before it flooded away.
“Uh… Nikalys, I think we should move.”
Shaking his head from side to side, he said, “It’s well over a mile away, Kenders. We’re safe here. Now, I wouldn’t want to be in front of…” He trailed off, as the realization of where the creature was heading hit him.
With alarm in her voice, Kenders looked at her brother and, with a hushed cry, said, “The village!”
Without waiting another second, Kenders bolted away, running south. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Nikalys was only a step behind her, running back home.
Chapter 2 : Home
Jak stood in the blessed shade of the barn, leaning against the white oak door and waiting for his father to come out. They had just put away one of the field carts and were planning to head home to get something to eat before taking the rest of the afternoon to relax in the shade of the giant ash tree just off the front porch.
Or maybe I’ll head up to the lake and meet Nik and Kenders.
Jak had told them he would this morning, but the hike up to the lake was a few miles and the thought of trekking up there in today’s heat was not appealing.
Although swimming in the nice, cool water certainly sounds good.
Standing a few inches over six feet, Jak had a dark tan complexion, black wavy hair, and deep brown eyes. He bore almost no resemblance to his brother and sister but was a good, balanced mix of his mother and father. Most residents of Yellow Mud referred to him as a younger, brawnier version of his father. Jak’s well-built arms were strong enough to lift a full bushel of olives in each arm. The young women of the village made sure to smile in his direction whenever he passed, and he was happy to smile back. Quick to laugh and make a joke, but also capable of quiet, contemplative moods, Jak was the type of son that most mothers and fathers dreamed of raising.
“Father, are you sure you don’t need help with that?” Jak called into the barn.
From within, a muffled voice shot back, “I’m not that old, son.”
With an affectionate smile, Jak said quietly to himself, “No, but you are that stubborn.” Remaining in the shade the barn roof provided, Jak waited patiently for another minute, listening to his father rustle about the interior of the barn. He took the moment to examine his dirty, drab field clothes, inspecting them for any cuts or holes. Hearing his father announce he was done, Jak turned to meet him.
Thaddeus Isaac of Yellow Mud trudged out of the darkness of the large barn and into the light of day. He had celebrated his fifty-third yearday just a few weeks ago but looked to be in his mid-forties at most. A few inches shorter than his son, his hair had begun to go grey in recent years, turning his black, curly hair into a salt-and-pepper mixture. His eyes were a crisp, brilliant blue—the women of the village constantly told Jak’s mother how beautiful Thaddeus’ eyes were. Most of the time, her response included a small smile along with the simple acknowledgement of the fact, much like the response one would give when someone points out that the sky is blue or grass is green.
“Everything in its place?” Jak asked with a grin.
In a deep, gravelly voice, Thaddeus replied, “Mock me all you want, son. I like having an orderly barn. It makes it easier to find things when I need them.” Eyeing his son, he said, “If I asked you—right now—where I could find the iron long-spade, could you tell me where it is?”
“Sure, I could,” replied Jak, his grin spreading wider. “It’s in the barn. Right wherever you just put it.”
With a playful slap to his son’s head—he had to reach up to do so—Thaddeus walked past Jak and headed down one of Yellow Mud’s dirt roads.
“Practicing to be a playman? C’mon—close up the doors and let’s head home. I’m hungry. And very thirsty.”
Jak slid the double doors shut on the big wooden barn, secured the latch, and hurried down the road after his father. Once he caught up to him, father and son settled into a relaxed walk home.
Out in the sun again and baking, Jak made up his mind about whether he would spend the day in the shade at home or head to Lake Hawthorne.
“Father, do you mind if I head up to the lake after we eat? I’d like to meet Nikalys and Kenders up at the swimming hole. Today has to be one of the hottest days we’ve had this summer. That sun is awful.”
Thaddeus shaded his eyes with his hand and peered at the cloudless sky. He had left his straw hat at home—something that Jak had teased him about all morning in the groves.
“It has been quite warm this year, hasn’t it? Perhaps Sutri and Mu are back together again,” Thaddeus said with a chuckle. Mu, known as The Bright Blade, was not only the God of Honor and War, but he held dominion over the sun. Divine lore said that Sutri, the Goddess of Summer and Time, and Mu had a tumultuous relationship that alternated periods of heated passion with cool indifference. Their trysts supposedly affected the summer weather.
“I hope their feelings for each other don’t end up cooking us mere mortals,” said Jak. His father grunted his agreement, wiping the sweat from his face for at least the fifth or sixth time since leaving the barn.
Walking through the familiar town, father and son exchanged pleasantries with some of the other townspeople. Yellow Mud was a small enough community that everyone knew everyone else by first name. Most of the people in the village got along fine with one another, although the occasional dispute arose about something minor. Jak remembered last spring when the town thatcher, Wendell, accused his neighbor of stealing a new tool he had purchased from a traveling peddler. Such an accusation had the town talking for a full week and nearly led to a formal hearing in front of the Village Council. Two days before the hearing, Wendell quietly apologized to his neighbor and admitted he found the tool wedged between two bundles of straw behind his house.
The buildings that made up the town were simple—wooden walls made from stacked logs of ash and oak trees covered with pitched, straw-thatched roofs. Most people had tiny stoves in their homes with small, metal pipe chimneys sticking out the top of the roof. The mild climate of the area allowed for people to have open-air windows cut into the side of their homes that could be plugged with straw padding for the occasional cold nights during the winter turns. The people of Yellow Mud did relatively well for a small farming community, but none of the villagers were prosperous enough to be able to afford a luxury like the glass windows Jak had seen in Smithshill.
Jak and his father were nearly halfway back to their small home when a shift in the ever-so-slight breeze drifting through town carried with it an unexpected smell of wet metal. Jak turned to look at his father and saw he had noticed the odor as well.
“Odd…I smell rain,” Thaddeus said with a perplexed look on his face.
Both men turned and looked around the sky for a sign of a coming storm. Jak noted the complete lack of clouds in the sky.
“I do, too, Father. But how is that possible? Not that I’d be complaining. A little rain means one less day in the irrigation ditches.” Thaddeus did not respond. Jak glanced at his father and saw an unexpected expression on Thaddeus’ face. Unlike the confusion he himself felt, his father’s face betrayed concern.
“Father?”
Suddenly, over the common noises of the village, Jak heard what sounded like the blowing of a strong wind through the boughs of the ash and oak forest. The wind confused him even more. The only thing slightly less rare than rain this time of year was any sort of steady breeze. Turning in circles, listening, he tried to determine where the sound was coming from. Deciding it originated from the north, he stood still as the whooshing grew louder. After a few seconds, the sound of blowing wind shifted into something different, yet still slightly familiar.
Puzzled, Jak said, “That sounds like the waterfall in Smithshill.” Jak was at a loss to explain that. Expecting a response, he turned to see what his father thought of his assessment and realized he was standing alone in the road.
Looking up the dirt street to the west, he saw his father running toward the section of town where the family home waited. Jak observed that other residents of Yellow Mud had stopped what they were doing, having noticed the smell or sound. Like Jak, they all had baffled and bewildered expressions etched on their faces. Some of them had turned to the north, holding still, tilting their heads and listening as the sound grew. The only person moving with any sort of purpose was the patriarch of the Isaac family, who was sprinting home as fast as he could.
* * *
Zigzagging through the trees at a dead run, Nikalys overtook his sister and passed her without saying anything. He headed southwest, back toward the irrigation stream that ran from the lake, through the town, and out to the groves and vineyards. His plan was to follow the path beside the ditch back home. Suddenly, Nikalys found himself sloshing through a few inches of dirty water, yellowed from the soil and spotted with leaves and sticks floating south, down the swift-moving flow. He knew he was still nearly half a mile from the stream and path that would lead them home. Slowing to a walk, he realized the water was getting deeper and had already slipped up past his ankles. He stopped where he stood and turned around, looking for his sister.
Kenders came through a thicket of trees, out of breath, and stopped short when she saw the wide stream of water running down the slope of the hill.
Nikalys said, “We’ll never get to the pathway through this. We don’t know how deep the water is going to get. And even if it doesn’t get much deeper, it’s going to turn everything to mud.”
Kenders said, “That water creature must be almost a mile wide, then.” Her voice was filled with awe, containing both wonder and a touch of terror.
Silently agreeing with his sister, but not wanting to alarm her, Nikalys cautioned, “We don’t know that for sure.”
He moved back to where his sister stood, just out of the water flow, and said, “Let’s move alongside of the water here instead of through the muck. We can move faster that way.”
Nodding her head in agreement, Kenders started to hurry down the small hill, breaking into a run after a few steps. Nikalys followed.
* * *
Reaching the Isaac homestead at the north end of town, Thaddeus threw open the front door and ran inside. Looking around at the front room by the entrance, he began to shout loudly for his wife.
“Marie! Where are you? Marie!”
Like most of the homes in Yellow Mud, the Isaac house had few rooms. A large room in the center of the house served as a family gathering area furnished with rustic chairs and a single table. In the corner stood a couch the children had given their parents for their anniversary a few years ago; Jak and Nikalys had built the frame and Kenders had sewn the cushions. Two sets of doors led off from the center room; on the left, one doorway led to the room shared by Nikalys and Jak, and the other was Kenders’ room. The two doorways to the right led to the room shared by their parents and the kitchen and eating area. Opposite the front door that Thaddeus had just entered, the door to the backyard stood open.
“Thad! I’m out back!”
Rushing across the room, Thaddeus stuck his head outside and saw his wife standing with her back toward him, staring to the north. She turned to look at him, fearful.
Marie Isaac was an uncommonly beautiful woman for her age. She even rivaled some women twenty years her junior. She wore her sleek, black hair in a ponytail, pulled back tight and showing off her striking facial features. Her high cheekbones, full lips, and dark brown eyes combined to give the impression of a face permanently frozen in a friendly, mirthful state. Except for now.
Just loud enough to be heard over the sound coming from the north, she asked apprehensively, “What is it, Thad?”
He reached her in a couple of strides, grabbed her arm and said, “I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, it’s big and headed this way. We need to move, now.”
The approaching roar was steadily increasing while the slightly metallic smell of water hanging in the air was noticeably stronger. From inside the house, the couple heard Jak’s voice calling out for them.
“Father! Mother!”
“We’re coming!” shouted Thaddeus. Pulling his wife behind him, Thaddeus went back into the house. Jak stood in the front doorway, obviously bewildered by what was happening.
Gods, I should have told them sooner.
“Jak, go to the kitchen and get the money pouch kept in the larder. Quickly!”
Even if he was confused, Jak obeyed his father’s order. He nodded and sprinted to his right, heading through one of the doorways.
Marie asked, “Thaddeus, do you think something or someone is coming for them? After all these years?” Her voice carried a forced calm, but her eyes gave her away. Marie was scared.
Trying to interject a sense of cool composure into his response, Thaddeus said simply, “I do.”
Giving his wife’s arm a reassuring squeeze, Thaddeus moved past her, toward their bedroom, calling over his shoulder, “Grab anything you can carry that won’t slow you down. We’re leaving as soon as I get the bundle they gave us.”
Inside the bedroom, Thaddeus moved to the couple’s straw-mattress bed and in one swift motion lifted it, shoving it against the back wall of the house. Fingers searching along the floorboards, he found the small hole he was looking for and lifted a few loose boards, jamming splinters under his fingernails as he rushed.
Reaching below the floor, into a depression dug into the dirt beneath the house, he lifted out something wrapped tightly in old, oiled leather. The package was four feet at its longest point with a bulge at one end less than a foot wide. With only a momentary pause, he stared at the bundle and brushed the thick coating of dust that had collected on the outside. He had not laid eyes on this thing for nearly fifteen years.
With a burst of energy he seldom showed at his age anymore, Thaddeus leaped up and returned to the main room to his waiting wife and son.
“Have you seen Kenders or Nikalys?” he asked his wife. “They said they were going to go to the lake this morning.”
Unable to keep fear from creeping into her voice any longer, Marie quivered, “No. They left a while ago. I checked once already but—” Abruptly, Marie grasped the necklace she wore around her neck. Made of muted silver metal with a matte finish strung on a leather cord, the simple teardrop pendant had hung there for a decade and a half.
With a relieved sigh, she said, “They are still alive and unhurt.”
Thank the Gods.
Glancing at his son, Thaddeus saw the question forming on his lips and interjected, “No time, Jak. I’ll explain as we run.”
“Run where?”
“Away from here.” Turning his head over his shoulder and looking to the north through the back door that still stood open, he said, “Away from whatever the Nine Hells have sent.”
Shoving the bundle he had retrieved from his bedroom into Jak’s arms, he said, “Put this on. You’ll find straps that will fit over your arms like a backpack. No matter what happens, you must keep this bundle close, do you understand?”
Confusion growing on his face, Jak nonetheless took the package and strapped it to his back.
“You have the money pouch?”
Jak held up the small leather belt-pouch to show that he did.
Thaddeus said, “Put it on as well, son. Now, move!”
Ushering these two members of his family out the front door, Thaddeus led them down the street to the south. Thaddeus resisted the urge to look back at the house where he had raised his family, even though he knew it would be the last time he saw their home.
* * *
Nearing the edge of the forest, the water creature tumbled down the slope toward its ordered destination. It left a mile-wide swath of destruction in its wake, ripping trees out of the ground and flooding the area with rushing streams of muddy water. Following the flow of water in the irrigation ditch like a horse-cart follows well-worn wheel tracks in the road, the wave of water tumbled with single-minded purpose, repeating the instructions in its almost-consciousness.
Crush everything. Smash all. Flush everything. Bash all. Rush fast. Drown all.
* * *
After making it barely a hundred feet from the front door of the house, the Isaac family heard the initial screams of terror resounding through the town.
Thaddeus shouted, “Don’t look back! It will only slow you down!”
All about the fleeing family, Thaddeus saw people they had known for years, all in various states of shock and fear. Some people stood still, mouths agape, looking at something back to the north. Others had dropped whatever they had held and were running south along with Thaddeus and his family. Still others ran in other directions, no doubt on their way to find their own families.
Rushing through the town, the Isaacs reached the main street of the village that ran east to west, forced to turn one way or another in order to go around the Council House that sat at the center of Yellow Mud.
“Right!” shouted Thaddeus.
Jak, who was easily outpacing his parents, turned to the west and, slowing to a walk, stared up into the northern sky with an expression of utter disbelief.
Reaching the intersection next, Thaddeus twisted to see where Marie was. Spry and athletic in her youth, the passing years had robbed her of the speed and stamina necessary to keep up such a frantic pace. Thaddeus urged his wife to hurry before he, too, stole a glance to the north.
Looking over the rooftops of the village and up the large hill to the north, Thaddeus saw what at first he thought was a giant slate-blue man marching toward them. Stunned for a second, he noticed that the figure was tinged with white patches shifting across its ‘‘skin.’’ Thaddeus thought they looked like the little tiny whitecap waves that whipped along Lake Hawthorne on windy winter days. Suddenly, the roaring sound, the smell of rain, and the giant figure rushing toward the town all fell into place.
Hells. That is the largest one I’ve ever seen.
Thaddeus guessed that it was slightly more than two miles away at this point, which placed it in some of the northern olive groves. Noticing the speed with which the water creature was moving, he knew time was short. He looked ahead to his son, and behind to his wife, and quickly arrived at a decision. Unwillingly, his mind drifted back sixteen years to that small, smoky blacksmith’s shop when Marie’s and his life together had changed forever.
We’ve done the best we can. I hope we have not failed you.
Before his wife caught up to him, Thaddeus scrambled over to his son who was still staring up at the approaching wave of water, eyes wide open and mouth agape.
“Jak!”
Grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, he shouted again.
“Jak!”
* * *
Tearing his eyes from the spectacle, Jak looked at his father.
“Listen to me, son. You need to survive. You must survive. Do you understand?”
Jak’s eyes finally focused on his father. Stuttering, he said, “Wait… what?”
“You need to survive and find Nikalys and Kenders. You need to keep them safe. Do you understand?”
“What are you talking about, ‘Keep them safe?’ From what? C’mon, let’s get going and you can keep—”
Cutting him off, his father said forcefully, “No! You have a better chance to survive than I do.” Both for emphasis and to be heard over the sound of roaring water, Thaddeus shouted, “It’s important that you keep them safe! Do you understand? Find another quiet place to—”
His father’s voice cut off as his mother reached the two of them. With one look at her husband, she apparently understood what was going on, even if Jak did not. Not wasting any time, she reached up and undid the leather cord holding the pendant around her neck. Jak was surprised; he had never seen her without it. While Jak glanced back and forth between his mother and father, she stood on her toes and tied the necklace around his neck.
“Mother, why are…”
With a few small tears running down her cheeks, Marie said in strained voice, “Hush, Jak. Listen to your father.”
Thaddeus said, “We’ve been able to keep them—all of you—safe for nearly sixteen years. Now they’re your responsibility, Jak.”
Jak had no idea what his father was talking about.
Dozens of people were rushing by, screaming, carrying personal possessions, and heading to the edge of town. Jak’s father spun and took a quick glance at the massive water figure rushing closer before returning his intense gaze to Jak.
“Your mother’s necklace was given to us to keep watch. Hold it in your hand, picture your brother or sister’s face, and you will know where they are and if they still draw breath.” Jak held up the pendant and said in a shocked tone, “Magic? But magic is forbidden!”
His mother quickly rebuked him. “Hush! It’s only forbidden because the people who make the rules fear what they cannot control.” Smiling through her tears, she said, “Besides, if the time has come, that necklace is just the beginning.”
Jak started to ask what she meant when his father grabbed him.
“Go, find your brother and sister and head somewhere safe.”
“Where?”
“That’s your decision now. Anywhere away from here.” His father’s eyes bored into him. “Leave no trail.”
In a panic, Jak said, “Mother, Father—I don’t understand what’s going on.”
With a pained expression, Thaddeus looked at his son, “I know. I wish we had more time, but we don’t. We should have shared more with you years ago, but we were afraid. Promise to keep them alive, son. They are important.” The intensity in his father’s voice shocked Jak.