by Jordan Cramm
Fengysha Series
Under the Elven Sky
Part One of the Fengysha Series
A Novel By Jordan Cramm
Copyright © May 2015 by Jordan Cramm
For Andrea, family, and friends. Without them I would be nowhere but sitting with a blank expression, staring at a blank computer screen.
For Tyler also, who encouraged me to write, even in times where I wasn’t very enthusiastic about finishing. Also for Larry “The Larrien” for letting me pick his brain and who has also encouraged this series in progress.
The greatest blessing is the love of a family. For a man, it is the love of a good woman.
To have both is to be truly blessed.
Table Of Contents
Prologue: Fengysha
Chapter 1: Returning Home
Chapter 2: The Calling
Chapter 3: Answers Of Uncertainty
Chapter 4: Destiny’s Journey
Chapter 5: Igniting The Flame
Chapter 6: Dark Tendrils
Chapter 7: Into the Wild
Chapter 8: Getting Closer
Chapter 9: Unveiling
Chapter 10: Through The Jungle
Chapter 11: Ravenshade
Chapter 12: Striking Peludeen
Chapter 13: Elven Finery
Chapter 14: The Patience Of A Raven
Chapter 15: The Secret is Leaked
Chapter 16: Armed And Ready
Chapter 17: The Proposal
Chapter 18: Nambrin’s First Strike
Chapter 19: Breaking The Ice
Chapter 20: Visitors
Chapter 21: The First War Council
Chapter 22: Camped Out
Chapter 23: The Assembly
Chapter 24: Back To Sea; Under The Elven Sky
Prologue: Fengysha
Fengysha once a world without form, now bubbles with life of many races and a large bestiary thanks to the work of its Gods. Those same Gods soon began to war with each other in the beginning, until at last, their war, which brought Fengysha's races to chaos, some even to extinction, came to a destructive halt. Then, through one of the largest magical undertakings ever, some of the evil Gods with their armies were banished from the world of Fengysha to one of its orbiting moons: Nexulous. Since then, many ages have passed for Fengysha and its people. The world has spun many times. Populations have grown. Empires have risen and fallen alike.
After the banishment of certain evil Gods and armies, the remaining Gods of Fengysha made a vow to leave the remaining people of Fengysha to carry on living by way of their own devices. Since that time, several of Fengysha's races have begun to flourish and thrive once more. And though relative peace has once again settled upon the face of Fengysha, there are still troubles for everyone. Races still battle with other races, faction groups rise up against others. But all-out war; that which Fengysha has witnessed the like of only once before—a war to plunge many races to the brink of destruction, well that is something that even the eldest of the immortal races only recall now with vague memories. No one expects such trouble to come again when peace abounds. Perhaps though, they should.
In the ages of Fengysha, two prime magic systems have evolved among the majority of the races. The first is known as guild magic, a system consisting of Mages bound by rule of their governing sect houses. For example, Rangers—they are guild Mages who specialize in nature magic, who are governed by their Ranger sect house in whatever place they call home, but more specifically, they are governed by the Ranger guild itself. There are other guild classes as well, but guild magic is not the only type of magic either. There is another.
The Free Magic is anything but. Free Mages practice it, and can do incredible magic, free of the limitations and segregations that guild Mages labor under. A Free Mage in other words, is capable of doing a spell that a Ranger might do, but also capable of doing a spell that a Cleric or Necromancer might do. But, the Free Magic comes with a price. A guild Mage uses their own personal energy to draw upon for spells, which can be incredibly draining, not to mention taking years of practice. The Free Mage however, does not become exhausted by casting their spells, but casts it freely, in return for obligations that the Free Mage must fulfill. It is a magic of balance, and a Free Mage's obligation for casting a spell is called “balance debt”.
Balance debt can be a demanding thing upon a Free Mage, and its severity differs with each spell and with each situation. For a few spells, such as fire, there is no balance debt required or owed, the Free Mage can simply cast the spell. In most cases however, balance debt is incurred when the Free Magic is used. It is hardly simple to understand the requests of the Free Magic, but much easier to understand how those requests are made. They come to the Free Mage like an audible voice inside their mind before magic power is given for a spell. So, the spell is given a price and then the Free Mage is free to accept the obligation, or deny it as well.
Another fundamental difference between the two magic systems is that anyone with the ability to afford guild dues, and with the endurance to devote a significant amount of time, can learn any number of the various types of guild magics. Once someone chooses a magic class in the guild magic, they normally however, do not train in other magics. But for the most part, anyone can become a guild Mage. But the Free Magic in contrast, chooses its Mages. Guild Mages often have many long years of training for their spells, as well as many tools that are often used. The Free Magic however is different, and even among Free Mages, there are different types. Each Free Mage though is given two things—a set of spellbooks, and the knowledge of what they are called to be. They can of course refuse the calling, but few ever do. Free Mages are revered nearly everywhere. They are significantly fewer in number than guild Mages, but their capabilities are greater. Perhaps though, a more interesting fact about the Free Mages is that their spell books are always with them; by the magic itself, the Free Mage can summon their spellbooks to them at anytime, anywhere. Those spellbooks can also be sent away in the same fashion. Plus, the books have unlimited space for notes, journaling, and more.
When a Mage is elected by the Free Magic, the person knows it at once by the appearance of their first spellbook guide titled “A Mages manifest”. When societies identify someone to be a Free Mage by evidence of this book, they often lavish gifts upon the Free Mage in exchange for spells or favor among the Free Mages. Many times, for that very reason, Free Mages choose a life of solitude away from large cities and the many demands found in such places.
Chapter 1: Returning Home
Wolflen Darkmoon, already in his late teens, was standing upon the deck of a ship at sea. He stared up at the riggings before looking toward the hills on the coastline ahead in the distance. He had been at sea for nearly a year, under an agreement with his father; one year at sea and after that, he was free to choose his own trade.
Of course his father, Admiral of the second Izenian fleet, was hoping that Wolflen would choose the life of a seaman. Wolflen however had other plans for his life. He hoped he would soon become a Ranger. His lifelong friend Ayvock he knew, would soon be joining the Knight guild. So, their times of being inseparable would soon be at an end regrettably. But that possible future was not yet upon them. Still, he felt it barrel toward him with great alacrity.
Wolflen was overjoyed when Ayvock had insisted that he be allowed to accompany his best friend Wolflen to sea. But Ayvock people knew, would one day become a Knight, just like his father before him. So when Ayvock demanded to go to sea with Wolflen, nobody seemed to mind the idea. Wolflen's father Shamus agreed easily, and Ayvock's own father Flint said that at sea at least, his son could learn to be
a man. Plus, at sea, Ayvock could earn some of his own money to put toward guild membership fees. Though Ayvock would not be learning magic, he would be training to be a Knight at the Knight’s Guild in Akartha. Ayvock being at sea with Wolflen really was best for everyone involved. For while Wolflen’s father was quite wealthy, Ayvock's had not been so fortunate, though no less devoted to his own duty.
Both Wolflen and Ayvock were Izenian. Their large frames showed evidence of this fact. Typically speaking, Izenians are about 12-18 inches taller than their Human and Elven counterparts, and usually they are stronger as well. Izenians are also a proud people—stubborn perhaps, but proud. Many thrived on battle by way of the sword or axe. Many also thrived on alcohol.
“Did you hear what I asked?” Ayvock was demanding impatiently.
He was just slightly shorter than Wolflen. Ayvock's hair was jet-black and curly and short. He was young, but already a proud Izenian. Here in the cold waters near their homelands, he wore black cloth—a loose shirt and pants with a belt all underneath black furs. Over the furs he wore another belt and baldric with his sword hanging from it in a sheath.
Wolflen only turned his head slightly to notice his best friend on deck behind him about seven paces. Wolflen's golden-brown hair was short and spiked upon his head. His hazel eyes blinked as he returned his gaze to the coastline ahead. He was garbed slightly differently than Ayvock however. Wolflen wore leggings and boots, and a heavy fur-lined robe that was green, and stretching down to his knees. It was closed at the waist by his own belt of thick cloth. At first glance, he might appear poor, but Ayvock knew already that Wolflen probably carried enough coin inside his robe to purchase the ship they were currently aboard.
“I heard you Ayvock,” Wolflen replied at last after a long pause, “and no I am not crazy.’One year at sea and then I get to choose my trade'. That was my dad's deal.”
Ayvock stepped closer and put a hand on the deck rail while staring at Wolflen.
“Right—a year at sea doing sea work, NOT trying out spells with a wand! If your father finds out he will...”
Wolflen cut him off suddenly saying, “Relax, it was just fire, and that is the easiest spell for just about any class of magic. Besides, if you saw then you know I could hardly light the candle. Clearly I need more practice to improve.”
Ayvock couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Setting aside for a moment, the fact that fire is a ship's worst enemy, what were you thinking? If anyone actually caught you doing magic without proper training, trouble would follow. You aren't a Free Mage. Rangers GET TRAINED. Besides, where the blazes did you get a wand at sea?”
Wolflen smiled and secretly revealed the wand for Ayvock to see.
“I whittled it out of wood from one of the deck planks. I did it two nights ago when I was on the late watch.”
Ayvock held the wand in his hand. It was surprisingly smooth all around, which made it easy to release it into the sea beneath the ship.
“Hey!” Wolflen exclaimed.
Ayvock brought his index finger straight into Wolflen's face and spoke, “You are not going to blow this chance to become a true Ranger, and you are not going to drag me after you into whatever trouble that is brewing because of your actions. One year at sea, and that will be over soon enough!”
Wolflen blinked. He knew Ayvock hated complications.
Wolflen watched Ayvock storm off after that, bound probably for quarters below deck. He couldn't help but be excited however about the fire he had somehow managed to conjure earlier that morning. He was sure that Ayvock must have waited until now, at the end of the second day watch to approach and complain. He knew Ayvock had been set to work on the second watch after all, and undoubtedly, he had waited all shift to say something. Wolflen looked again to the distant coast, and to the snow-covered mountains in the far distant land. One more day. Not that the thought by any means made it easier to be where he was at the moment. His thoughts drifted. He recalled how he had come into the knowledge of how to even cast the simple spell of fire. As he thought about it, he chuckled slightly and leaned over the rail of the ship, watching the sea during one of its calm moments. Then a voice he knew seemed to come closer, accompanied by the sound of boots upon the main deck.
“One year at sea, and then your path is yours to choose. Well, I guess tomorrow you will be disembarking for another journey entirely then won't you?”
Wolflen turned and faced his father, offering a salute immediately. His father's hair was shoulder length, but tied back in a pony-tail. He wore loose-fitting black pants, a loose undershirt, blue in color and over that, a dark, full-sleeved vest held together with brown toggles over the chest. His sword and sheath hung freely from his belt, and Wolflen also noticed (as he always did) the five silver buttons on the neck of the blue undershirt. Those were rank insignia, showing his father's position as Admiral. It was a position of power that commanded respect, even from someone of relations. Shamus offered a quick responding salute, after which he casually approached and leaned over the railing with his son.
“I have commanded this vessel for over one hundred years now. Sure, she has been rebuilt a time or two still bearing the same name each time. I've sailed these waters in defense of our homelands, and I have sailed abroad on missions for our kingdom. I've hauled precious cargo, fought in battles, and even taken certain dignitaries on various cruises for one reason or another. This is my ship. I love the sea life. But I know that my son does not. Am I right?”
Wolflen swallowed a growing tension that seemed to form like a lump in his throat as he listened to his father.
“Dad,” he responded, “it's not that I hate the sea, it’s just that...”
His father interrupted at once, “Just that you were hoping to become a Ranger, more at one with nature on dry land right?”
Wolflen nodded.
“Well,” Shamus continued, “I cannot stop you I suppose. But let me say this—whatever you choose to do, go at it full of passion. Myself, I love the sea. Your mother might tell you that I am out here so often because I wish to get away from her. That is not the truth however. The sea has always called to me with its sweet song. And for years I have been mesmerized by its melody. If you feel the same way about becoming a Ranger than I have no doubt, you will become a fine one. If not however—if you aren't fully sure, then I might suggest you spend more time at sea.”
Wolflen heard the long silence that followed, and it took him a moment to realize his father was actually asking him a question.
“Dad,” Wolflen began, “since I began this journey a year past, we have been in precisely two different skirmishes. But the sea itself it seems we fight daily. And I don't know that I am much better of a seaman now than I was when I began. Out here, the wind and the rain are power, just as they are over dry land. You, this crew, and the ship—you all take your leave by these things, these forces of nature. Dad, don't take this the wrong way, but I would rather change the course of wind over land than a ship over water.”
Shamus smiled half-heartedly and looked at his son a moment. Then he looked back to the coastline and stared silently for a few more long moments.
“We'll be docked tomorrow morning,” he said calmly, “and seeing as how you and Ayvock will be off, I figured the two of you would be drinking tonight.”
Wolflen smiled and looked at his father before responding, “Dad you know we are both too young to drink.”
Shamus looked back at his son a moment.
“Well son, the way I see it is this; we are upon open waters, and not under the jurisdiction of the land. Besides, I am here to grant permission. You and Ayvock have had some tough times at sea together, and I know that soon you will be parting ways. So I took the liberty tonight of having a few of the bards onboard prepare some festivities. Honey Mead and Izenian Rum will be brought to the deck here at dusk. The bards also intend a departure party for you and Ayvock as well. Soon, you and Ayvock both will be leaving this ship, and starting on your journey to beco
me whatever you will become in this life. And besides, all things considered, you both have earned it this last year. Should you ever decide you wish to return to sea life, either of you—I'd be honored to have your company upon my ship. I'm proud of you son.”
Wolflen turned and hugged his father. No lectures this time. No speeches or demands for what Wolflen SHOULD do with his life; only well wishes, gratitude, honor, respect and dignity. Wolflen felt charged with energy. He thanked his father and then looked up at him.
“Now go,” Shamus said, “go get Ayvock. I am sure he is tired, but tell him that Admiral Darkmoon requests his presence on deck. Tell him there is just one final order before you both disembark tomorrow.”
Wolflen smiled and pivoted at once, turning toward the lower quarters without thinking. Is this really happening?
The festivities began shortly before dusk. Wolflen and Ayvock were allowed to legally drink alcohol for their first time ever, and they were losing no time in accepting the challenge. For one night only, Shamus was also in rare form, acting not as Admiral, but rather like a proud father, and proud Izenian. He began to teach Wolflen a new drinking song, which was rather quite catchy Wolflen thought.
“Drink up drink up before the dawn...Drink up drink up until it is gone”
Wolflen chugged another huge gulp of Izenian Rum after saying the words and clashing mugs with Ayvock and his father as they sat on three barrels around a makeshift table, as if rank or position meant nothing, but all three were common sea dogs.
“Pull sword and axe and shake the spears, drink up before the enemy nears.” Again mugs clashed and were suddenly slammed to the table. When the laughter subsided, Shamus put a hand on each boy's shoulder.
“Now Wolflen, for starters, I doubt I have to remind you that tonight's little adventure is not table talk for times in your mother's company.”
