Copyright © 2020 by Source 7 Productions, LLC
www.triorion.com
First Edition
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events and situations portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
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Cover art and design by Source 7 Productions and M.J. Erickson
Illustrations by M.J. Erickson
Source 7 Productions, LLC
Lakewood, CO
Novels by L. J. Hachmeister
Triorion: Awakening (Book One)
Triorion: Abomination (Book Two)
Triorion: Reborn, part I (Book Three)
Triorion: Reborn, part II (Book Four)
Blue Sky Tomorrows
Shadowless: Outlier (Volume One)
Forthcoming
Triorion: Nemesis (Book Five)
Shadowless – Volume Two: Battle at Hirak Mountain
The Laws of Attraction
Corbyn Black: The Demon’s Kiss
Short Stories
“The Gift,” from Triorion: The Series
“Heart of the Dragon” from Dragon Writers
“Prisoner 141” from Parallel Worlds: The Heroes Within
“Soul Song” from Unlocking the Magic
“Judith” from Triorion Universe
This book is dedicated to Em Jaye
From a startled look
To sharing your light
Thank you
Shadowless
Volume One: Outlier
Chapter 1
Running away from home seemed like the best option. At least until the shrieking howls of a coguar cut through the trembling surf of trees.
Can’t go back, Sen told herself, forcing her way through a tangle of bushes.
Images of the coguar’s razored teeth, red mask, and feline paws flashed through her mind. Bedtime stories and old nursery rhymes didn’t do the predator justice, not after seeing the deep scars on her mother’s arms, and the tormented look in her eyes any time someone gazed too long at her wounds.
Home is worse.
Moonlight streamed down through the swaying trees, giving rise to dancing shadows that played into her fears. Going out into the Dethros forest at night was dangerous for the favored—but for an ungifted Outlier like her, she would be lucky to survive until morning. The other kids her age loved to tell her nightmarish stories of untamed, carnivorous vegetation, feral animals, bloodthirsty Shifters, and rogue swarms that dominated the outlands. But nothing her fourteen-year-old mind could conjure up compared to the cold bite of the winds, and cries of the unseen creatures lurking in the shadows.
Still, risking the dangers of the forest rated more favorably than facing her parents’ shame the next day.
Tears blurred Sen’s vision as she picked off the burs hooked into the exposed skin on her arms.
Why couldn’t I be something—anything—even a Shifter?
A second howl, this time much closer, broke her from her thoughts.
Re-securing the straps of her satchel across her shoulder, she hoisted herself up the large, corrugated trunk of a felled rigalwood tree. Despite the nearly-full moon lighting up the night sky, she didn’t see the nest of purple cradel spiders until she felt tickling legs scurry up her right arm and under her shirt.
“Ow, get off—get out!” she cried, slapping at her arm and shirt as the tickling sensation turned into fiery pinpricks. Not minding her feet or her balance, she fell forward, landing hard on her side. Dizzying motes clouded her vision as she gulped for air, unable to fill her lungs.
Can’t breathe—
The spasm in her chest subsided. Sen breathed in again, and loud enough to alert the entire forest. As she propped herself up on her elbow with a groan, she noticed the pervading silence.
No insect sibilance, no midnight cawing from the white-feathered gailyns.
Sen curled her legs up into her chest, afraid enough to forget the worsening burn from the spider bites, or the terrible ache in her ribs.
Something large and lumbering crunched down on twigs littering the forest floor. A second footstep, then a huffing snort.
She hugged her legs to her chest even tighter, fresh wounds throbbing. Squeezing her eyes shut, she imagined herself at home, safe within the Lightning Guild stronghold in their dwelling carved into the white rock of Hirak mountain, her mother and father not too far away, ready to rush to her bedside should she even make a concerning sound. The comfort of her own bed, silk sheets soft against her skin, the humming sound of the Scylan mother tree drifting in her bedroom window—
Branches snapped.
A dark figure emerged. Two legs appeared, then four. Sen could make out its curved spine and sharp claws that dug into the leaf-strewn ground. Whatever it was, it stayed between the trees, its jet-black fur blending in with the shadows.
She held her breath, too afraid to move, unable to take her eyes off the colossal thing standing only a few feet away.
The creature took another step forward, this time with a noticeable limp in its step. Moonlight revealed a dark canine face and unusual eyes—one with a yellow iris and a blue sheen, the other pale and cloudy with a badly scarred socket.
What’s that?!
No schoolroom rumors spoke of such a thing.
Spotting her, the creature crouched down, pulling back his lips over sharp teeth.
Sen shimmied back as far as she could until her back flattened against the tree trunk.
“Please…” she said, her voice breaking into breathy whispers. “…please…”
The creature limped forward, his low growl vibrating straight down to her bones. Wide-eyed, she watched as the coarse hair on the back of his broad shoulders bristled, making him appear even more massive than before.
But as he limped forward, she saw more of his wounds, dampening her fear with the unnamable feeling she always got when she realized someone else’s pain.
“What happened to you?” she whispered, her eyes tracing his badly twisted back paw to the gaping sores on his neck, arms and backside. Some of his injuries looked older, like the scar across his left eye and the shredded ear. But it was his protruding ribs, and the skeletal look of his legs and arms, that snagged her attention.
He’s starving.
The excited caterwauling of the nearby coguar made her jump, as it did the creature before her.
What if the coguar isn’t hunting me…
Without taking her eyes off the mangy animal, she slowly brought her hand to her satchel, unbuttoned the front flap, and dumped out all of the contents: A few sweet rice buns and a stuck-together mass of cherry dumplings.
The creature’s growl intensified, his lips curling back even farther.
“That’s everything,” she said, scooting away on her hands until she came to a kneeling position.
She saw the glint of the creature’s claws in the moonlight just before he swiped his enormous paw in her direction. Yelping, she threw herself backward. In less than a heartbeat she scrambled back over the fallen tree trunk and shot through the thorny underbrush, a feeling of heat and dread nipping at her heels.
Don’t look back don’t look back DON’T LOOK—
Catching the toe of her boot on a tree root, she came crashing down, smacking her head against hard ground. She tasted something coppery in her mouth before she could register what happened.
Old memories cu
t their way through to the forefront of her rattled mind.
“Senzo, why are you always running?”
“Father?” she said, touching a wet spot on her forehead. When she brought her hand in front of her face, she saw the red smear on her fingers.
Nausea licked the back of her throat. All the blood left her arms and legs. Come on, for once in your life, tough something out.
Roars and screams erupted through the forest. Something large crashed against a tree, splintering bark, rustling leaves.
That injured animal—
She could hear her father’s admonishments, telling her to make the smart decision, but she couldn’t deny the stronger pull spurring her onto her feet and running back to the site of the fallen rigalwood.
The shadows and trees hid most of the red and black clash, but Sen could make out the injured creature and the deadly coguar vying to sink its teeth into his hide.
Her father’s sensibilities still tried to sway her mind: How does this benefit you?
Her answer came in the search for something—anything—to help the injured animal. Sticks and leaves wouldn’t do.
But those rocks—
Sen scrambled over to a pile of rocks near the rigalwood, scooping up as many as she could in one arm and then climbing back up the tree trunk to take aim. With a stunning blow, the coguar knocked down the larger creature, and circled around, readying for the kill.
“Leave him alone!” she shouted, throwing rocks at the coguar. The feline predator hissed and shrieked, surprised at her appearance. With flattened ears, it batted at her projectile assault. Despite her weak arm and terrible aim, she landed one good hit on the coguar’s sensitive nose. Tucking its tail, it spun around and took off, back into the protection of darkness.
Breathing hard, she waited for what felt like forever until she braved leaping down and checking on the injured animal.
New bite marks scored his already wounded body. Laying on his back, she saw the ragged rise and fall of its chest, and the murmur of his once resonant growl.
Not knowing what else to do, she looked around until she spotted the food she had dumped out on the ground. Most of it had been mashed into the leaves and dirt in the fight, but she picked up the few remaining morsels.
She approached the giant beast, taking a smaller and smaller breath with each step. A loud grunt made her jump back, but even as his head lolled her direction, she dared one last advance.
Both eyes—even the pale, cloudy one—watched her every move as she bent down and placed the last of her food near his mouth.
The creature bayed, and then whipped his tail in her direction. She ducked in time, just as the spiked tip flew over her head.
With tears in her eyes, she took off in the only direction left, away from the roaring beast, the glowing blue lights of the stronghold behind her as she plunged deeper into the heart of the Dethros.
***
By the third day, the spider bites had changed from stinging nuisances into inflamed sores with purples streaks aimed toward her heart. If it weren’t for the bites, she might have paid more attention to the worsening pain in her ribs, or the pounding in her head.
Sen leaned against a tree trunk, clutching her side, sweat pouring down her face and neck. The heat from the warm afternoon sun didn’t right the chill coursing through her body. Shivering, she pulled at tattered ends of her shirt, not understanding why she couldn’t find warmth.
Nothing makes sense, she thought, looking around at the towering trees and familiar game trail she could have sworn had taken her on a never-ending loop through the same patch of forest. Even the white mountains behind her, home to her people of the Lightning Guild, should have been a directional marker, but they never appeared in the same place, swirling away and in on themselves in some crazy nightmarish vision.
I’m sick.
She finally allowed herself to think it. Reality struck another rapid succession of blows: No food. Alone…and injured in the Dethros.
Dethros. The divide, the place that separated the Realm from the outlands, the favored and the forsaken.
“A place suitable for shadowless cowards,” she could hear her father saying.
With every footstep, she felt her strength peeling away. Her head, too heavy to hold up, bounced back and forth as she teetered forward.
The ghostly outline of her mother’s face appeared in the grasses near her feet, green-tinted eyes telling more than her words ever could.
“Don’t give in, Sen. Don’t end up like me.”
Mother. Father.
Home.
I didn’t want to leave—
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to an unseen audience. She stumbled into a bush, her clothes catching on the branches. Losing her balance, she fell forward, thorns scratching her face and arms.
With a monumental struggle, she turned partway onto her back, enough to see up through the tree tops, to the sun shining down on her from the bright blue sky.
Memories surfaced in random waves: She saw her father under the Scylan mother tree, telling her the proud history of the Lightning Guild, of a people that could control the storms, but most importantly, channel lightning. She saw the expectation in his eyes, the need for his only child to bear his immense gift.
Then, her mother: A lithe figure, a wisp of a smile breaking through a mask of buried pain. Dressed in brown silk and flowers, the telltale green vine of her Virid lineage wrapped up her left arm, she looked down at her with her own expectation.
“I am not like you either, Mother,” she mumbled.
No. Not a shock jockey, not a greenthumb. She couldn’t attract and control lightning any more than she could help a plant grow. Not that I belong in any of the five denoms.
Older memories pushed their way in front of her waking eye. She saw herself, much younger and already afraid of what she wasn’t, clinging to her mother’s hand under the safety of a Scylan tree. They both watched in awed silence as her father, chancellor of the Lightning Guild, raised up his arms and summoned the gray clouds from the east. Other Guild members circled around him on the mountain peak, lifting up their arms, their skin glowing blue as the air around them charged for a strike.
“What if I fail the Trials?” she asked her mother as a bolt of lightning struck her father and dispersed amongst the other members.
Her mother never took her eyes off her husband, not even when Sen pulled on her hand and asked again.
“You have something special, Sen; something I haven’t seen in a long time…”
“No… I don’t,” she said, tears sliding down her cheeks.
The winds, from the north, swept through the trees. Someone was summoning a storm to Hirak mountain.
Maybe father…
Does he miss me? Does he know why I left?
Of course he does, she chided herself. And he’s not going to come after me.
Something hissed, and then growled. She tried to turn her head, but couldn’t fight the hold of the branches. Struggling only made things worse, sapping the last of her strength.
Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a flash of red, a mouth crowded full of long teeth.
The coguar—
She screamed, emptying her lungs of all the terror and pain that had come to dominate the last few days of her life.
A second figure rushed through the trees; a streak of black, a hint of yellow. Another predator to compete for her kill? It didn’t matter.
I didn’t want to shame you, she thought, imagining her mother and father. She closed her eyes as the growling intensified. Please forgive me.
Overcome by fever and grief, Sen slipped away as a looming figure blotted out all evidence of the sun.
Chapter 2
“Nya, I forbid this; it’s too late for a hunt.”
Osan’s gruff words reached her ears but went no further. With little more than a grunt, Nya slung the last of her weapons over her shoulder and gave a curt nod to the other clan members gathered around
their chief. Firelight from the central meeting area made Osan’s bushy white beard and eyebrows overshadow the rest of his leathery face.
“It’s suicide,” he said, this time grabbing her arm as she tried to pass him.
Nya stopped in her tracks but did not look at the old man. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on the edge of the Dethros forest, the dying orange rays of the setting sun casting foreboding shadows amongst the trees.
“We can’t go another day without food,” she said, not keeping the anger out of her voice. “And the sick need fresh herbs.”
“You can go out with Kaden tomorrow morning.”
“Not everyone will survive ‘til morning,” Nya said, nodding her head toward the cluster of tents on the farthest edge of the camp. The sickest stayed inside, too weak to join the rest of the clan by the fire.
Osan didn’t take his eyes off her, mashing the remaining nubs of his teeth together as he weighed her defiance against the awful truth of their situation.
“I give my life for the Chakoa,” she whispered, trying to tip the balance her favor by appealing to his sense of clan loyalty.
“Just don’t do it foolishly,” he said, letting her go.
The other clan members saluted her with fists over their hearts, staying back to guard the camp against the successive attacks that had been happening night after night since they crossed the Mohaj desert and into the Koori lowlands that butted up against the divide. Never in her life had she thought that the various Outlier clans would have to fight each other for food and supplies but raiding the Realm’s border town stocks proved harder with each year, especially with rising tensions between the denominations. Something had upset the precious balance between the Virids, Lightning Guild, Swarm, and the Order of Nezra, and from what she overheard whispered by the guards standing watch near the Realm borders, it sounded like Vulgis, Deathlord of the Order, hadn’t shown up to the yearly Gathering of the Elders.
War is coming, her instincts screamed as she passed through camp, but as much as she had warned Osan, he didn’t do much more than prematurely celebrate the end of the Realm and all of its favored inhabitants.
Outlier Page 1
