by K Fisher
Alni
K. Fisher
Tales of Desin
Book One
First printing January 2019
Copyright © K. Fisher All rights reserved.
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DISCLAIMER
The book as well as the characters in this book are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
License
All rights reserved. This ebook or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
Dedication
____________________
To my husband. You listen to all my stories and understand they are real. I adore having you along for the adventure and will continue to weave tales of fantasy in the forests of our minds for years to come.
I love you.
“This will be my favorite of all books forever.” - My Mom
Table of Contents:
Dedications and Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
About the Author
Other books by This Author
Sneak peek of book two’s first chapter!
Prologue
“I can only see this ending in your death, my King.”
The words were spoken in a hiss of breath, drifting across the space between the two men standing within the meeting hall. The guards had been directed to stand outside, not allowed to be privy to the conversations of war between their King and his eldest friend.
“Mallor, the races have lived in harmony for quite some time. You are one of my dearest advisors, and I take your warnings to heart, but I will not be engaging in war. The attacks against the throne have been from independent parties, not the humans as a whole. You know this.”
The King’s rich response was calming and trustworthy; a voice that had demanded the attention of the Kingdoms without question. He had always cared for the lands and those residing in them, for his dear daughter and wife, more than anything else.
He was weak and had ruled far too long.
“The humans are envious of the power that has been stripped from them, envious of our long lives and abilities. If you allow them to think their kind can deal such…disrespect unto you, they will only do it again and again until you are dead.”
Mallor took a step closer to the King, his long purple robes dragging against the stone ground of the hall. It was a sound that brought him back to the situation at hand and away from the rage swarming in his mind; of what he was going to do, of what he had been waiting to do.
“Enough, Mallor. I’ll talk no more of war with the humans.”
As if on cue, the jagged slab of stone in Mallor’s pocket warmed, begging to be used. The Stone of Dragons was an ancient artifact that had once given the elves power over the most ancient beings in Desin: dragons. The elven leaders had combined the magic they were born with to create the stone, and as punishment the magic of their world was stripped from them by the Creator. With that power, the Kingdoms had been conquered easily and without question, all bowing before the great beasts that demanded they respect the superior species. Still, with the stone in hand and the dragons at their call, the elves had flourished. When King Herrick had taken the throne, he demanded the lands be ruled differently and that the Stone of Dragons be destroyed. Breaking it into two, he asked that one half be burned in the Fire of Dragons and the other returned to them. Proof and good faith that it was not hidden elsewhere, never able to hold the same power over them or control them fully while it was incomplete.
The King had trusted Mallor to be the one to take care of the stone shards. Of course, his advisor couldn't get rid of such power and promise, and of the one chance the elves had of ensuring they would never be bested by humans. He had returned half to the dragons to regain the trust between their kind and the elves. It ensured them that their power would not be used to take control from the humans and other beings of their world. But the other half? It had remained with Mallor, still containing enough magic to assist him in his quest; magic that promised he would be the one to bring the elves to the top as they once were.
Once he took the other half and made it whole? The dragons would be his and the throne would finally be occupied by an elf of power, one that honored the ancient ways of their people, and the ferocity that had brought them to the top of the chain centuries before. A ferocity that had been long lost with their kind King.
After the death of their King, he’d deal with the daughter and wife. He would make it appear as though an attack from the humans had finally succeeded. Mallor would use the fear and anger of their people to convince them that order must be restored. With dragons under his thumb…Mallor would be the most powerful being alive. They would all bow down at his feet and worship him.
Mallor made his way slowly to the stone counters nearest a wide window. Through the opening, he could see the vast lands before them. Forests and farmlands scattered as far as his eye could see, unknowing and weak; fresh for the picking despite how safe they may have felt. Far across the Elven lands he could see the tops of buildings residing in the large trading city of Glade.
His nimble hands poured them both a goblet of wine, dark eyes drifting down to the red liquid as it filled the cups before him. Turning towards the King, he nodded at his words and studied the man; approaching him with the goblets in hand, extending one to him with a slight bow of his head.
“You are right, my King. You have ruled the land thus far and kept order and trust among the people. It is only my job as your advisor and friend to mention such things as they come to my mind. Forgive me.” The words felt like acid on Mallor’s lips, the warmth in his pocket almost a burn against his thigh beneath the robes.
The King extended one strong hand, grasping the goblet. His blue eyes were clear and healthy, not a wrinkle on his face to indicate his true age. The elves lived for so long, yet they were all too foolish to see the potential for more. What were centuries if you could live forever? In time, the King would die anyway, nothing could stop that, and Herrick’s weakness would be his downfall. His advisor was only speeding the process along for the good of their people.
Mallor extended his own glass, relishing the soft clang it made against the silver of the King’s. Without another word, the two men took a hefty drink. Mallor lifted one hand to wipe a small trail of red wine from his lips, the bitterness of the poison was immediate and tart.
The King noticed the taste at th
e same time, his tall ears twitched and pinned against the side of his head as he looked down to the goblet, smacking his lips once before his blue eyes widened with understanding. The very same eyes lifted to look at Mallor only a moment later as his body staggered back, balance first to go as the betrayal grasped him.
Mallor’s hand lowered to the pocket of his robes as he lifted the glowing purple stone from within. The jagged sides poked into his hand, the pain keeping him focused as he called on the ancient magic he had spent years learning.
King Herrick watched as the Stone of Dragon’s purple glow trailed up his advisor’s hand, filling the man’s chest and rising upward until it stopped at his throat. Opening his mouth, the magic pushed the red wine from Mallor’s body and onto the ground in a splash. The King’s body crumpled and his voice croaked as he fought to speak, fought to drag his body towards the locked door of his meeting room and the guards beyond.
Clearing his throat, Mallor rose to his full height and walked towards the King, one heavily booted foot was placed on Herrick’s neck, stopping him on his quest to the door. “I will lead them to a brighter future, my lifelong friend. I am sorry it had to end this way, but know it will be faster for your daughter and wife. That I promise.”
The King twitched beneath Mallor’s foot, foam bubbling from between his red lips as his movements finally stopped.
Clasping his hands together, the King’s advisor looked down at the man, at the sightless blue eyes that had tormented him for so long with talks of unity and trust between the beings of Desin, of their world.
Now? They held no power.
Mallor peered at the warm stone in his hand, thumb trailing over the ridged edges as he fought back the excitement that threatened to spill over. Now was not the time to celebrate, his plan was far from over. Although the head of the snake had been chopped off, there were a great many other serpents to dispose of. Serpents in the way of power and immortality.
Evil never moved quicker than when it was faced with impending death.
Chapter One
Seventeen Years Later
The Forests of Nevina
Wind whipped through the air, cooling and gracing the forest with a soft tune as it whistled through ancient trees and new undergrowth. The wind told stories of the days that had passed, of the travels, of the impending war on the other side of Desin. It brought secrets for those keen enough to listen.
Rays of sun peeked through large leaves with a graceful hand, opening the world to an array of color and life. Hundreds of trees stood side-by-side, moss growing an emerald green between. The world was open to peace, spreading its arms wide to the morning and the potential it brought as life erupted all around it.
Through all the splendor and beauty, Alni witnessed none of it.
The loud sound of his snores tore through the serenades of birds and wildlife, breaking the magic that surrounded him. Although the creatures had been absent throughout the morning, midday seemed to give them permission to roam and inquire about the stranger in their midst.
Deer peered through breaks in the trees at the boy curled up beneath a giant, ancient oak tree. Fairies zipped through the warm breeze, darting past his gentle sleeping face. The movement kicked up his auburn hair, sending the messy strands tickling across his face. The young man adjusted, arm snaking up over his head as his nose crinkled and his hand waved off the disruption. After the fairies raced away, his snores started back up again. From an outsiders view he could not have been comfortable, yet he slept on.
Bugs had already started to poke through leaves, watching this newcomer. They feared him at first, but later took his sleeping sounds as a sign of safety and crawled about his legs and arms. Their feelers reached for where they would create their new homes, some even nestling upon the maroon hat pulled low over his eyes. It was well-worn, a soft knit that had seen better days. Two small, pointed ears protruded from either side of the old material and frayed the fabric further.
It was a perfect place for a spider to begin her web for the boy had ceased moving for some time. This was short lived for the spinning spider as the boy’s ear twitched, knocking her to the forest floor; the spell of sleep finally broken as a louder sound tore through the trees and sent the fairies and animals scurrying away.
Alni’s senses came alert, pulling him abruptly from a dream that he would later not remember. The lad stood quickly, still fighting sleep, the rapid movement made him stumble backwards with dizziness. The insects scrambled for freedom, their small legs on his exposed skin made the young man shake his legs desperately, wiping his hands down either side of his body with a grumble.
Rubbing his eyes, he shook the cobwebs from his head, removed his hat, and ran his hands through his red hair. What had forced him awake? Was it simply the dream bringing him back to the forest floor? Or something else entirely? The awakening rituals froze when familiar laughter reached his ears and made him pause all movement. A heckling, high-pitched guffaw had rendered the wildlife silent.
He knew who was coming and was not looking forward to another confrontation, especially when he had been certain he was too far from home to run into any familiar faces. Let alone the one person he wished to get away from the most.
His muscles tensed as he considered whether he would run this time or stand his ground. It seemed his body was in no condition to sprint off after just waking up, and made the decision for him. Before his thought process could evolve further, three boys stumbled into the clearing. They were laughing amongst themselves, but the laughter stopped immediately when they caught sight of him. Slow smiles crept along their faces as their eyes met and returned back to their prey.
Orlon, the largest of the group, took a few steps towards him. He raised one chubby hand and made a mockery of wiping his eyes and scoffing in the sleepy boy’s direction before looking back to the other two. “Well, well, it’s Alni! Haven’t seen you around the past few days, is this where you ran off to, half-breed?”
Alni smiled, moving one hand to his chest and putting one leg back, dipping into a delicate and practiced bow. “Ello boar, what did I do to be graced with your presence?”
It wasn’t often that Alni had control of his mouth and despite being clearly outnumbered, his brain didn’t connect that it wasn’t wise to say everything it thought. There was truth to it, though, Orlon just needed a pair of tusks and the pudgy-faced, beady-eyed fat boy would look just like a boar.
The boy’s hands had clenched into fists, one raised as it beat the air. “Say that to my face, you nasty little orphan!” He looked to the others, gesturing to Alni with a quick nod of his head, “We’ll teach you not to speak to your elders that way. Grab him and hold him still!”
Orlon’s dark eyes had narrowed into slits, a flush of anger creeping up his meaty cheeks and settling in.
The boys behind him started forward, one taking his hands out of his pockets and rubbing them together like he was anticipating a hot meal. The movements forward signaled Alni’s cue to leave. Kicking off the tree behind him, he made his way towards the two boys walking in his direction, hoping the disinterest in a fight and lack of chase would take them by surprise. It seemed to work for a moment, the advancing boys pausing as he strolled right past them towards the other side of the clearing.
A moment later, an iron hand locked onto the back of his shirt, pulling Alni backwards with incredible strength and sending him sprawling across the forest floor. The impact of his body against the ground took the breath from his lungs. Before he could spring to his feet, a boot kicked him in his side viciously. Stars broke out across Alni’s vision as he tried to focus on the two boys moving away from him. Their newfound laughter was already victorious at the sight of their victim gasping for breath upon the ground.
Finally catching enough air, Alni slowly rose to his feet and attempted a step forward, one hand across his stomach, “Really now. I had been leaving and you find it proper to do something like that?”
“Go ahead and hit
me, Alni. I’ll give you a free shot,” Orlon extended his fat arms, a smirk on his face as he exposed his entire body to the wheezing Alni.
Alni had been slowly walking until he was right in front of Orlon, but he stopped at arm’s length when the words hit his ears. Not taking time to weigh the pros and cons of such an action, Alni cocked back and swung, turning his lower body as he launched his fist into the chin of Orlon; the boar fell like a rock onto the ground, leaving his sidekicks looking as thunderstruck as he was. Their mouths agape and bodies as still as stone as they gawked over their fallen leader.
The spell was soon broken when Orlon pointed at Alni from the forest floor, spitting towards the ground as he wiped his face. No words were needed, the other two young men knew just what to do with the condemning finger of their leader.
Alni was used to the frequent bullying and attacks. They had several years of experience on him, but the fight had yet to be beaten out of him. One dove at Alni, hitting him hard in the stomach and knocking the wind out of him once more as they both fell to the ground in a heap. Alni kicked at the boy wildly, struggling to drag himself away, but his leg was grasped by a fat hand and he was pulled backwards along the ground, dead leaves clinging to his breeches and scratching his bare arms.
A heavy weight restricted his gasp for air as one of the boys sat upon his chest and held him down. His struggling was to no avail, unable to do so much as budge his fat captor as the other two approached his flailing body.
Orlon laughed, beady eyes squinting down at him through the bright sun, “Look ‘ere boys, orphan Alni now knows his place, crawling around on the ground like the scum that he is.”
The others laughed until tears ran down their dirty faces. Each shake of the body atop Alni seemed to knock more and more air from his body, his ribs pressing against the ground painfully.
He yelled out in alarm as the body holding him down moved, a hand grabbing his hat and hair in one fist and pulling him upright roughly. Alni lost count of how many fists beat him once he was back to his feet. Did it matter? After the first, everything hurt the same. After a few more, a numbing sensation seemed to take over where the pain once had. Thankfully, the large boys were vastly out of shape and in no time, the swings slowed. When Alni was released, his body fell to the ground once more, arms moving to protect his head.
