The Chronicles of Starlyn (Calthoria Chronicles Book 1)

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The Chronicles of Starlyn (Calthoria Chronicles Book 1) Page 8

by Craig A Price Jr


  The guards used a large knocker on the front of the door and waited. When it opened, three kheshlar maidens clad in white silk robes and veils stepped out. They clutched sharp curved daggers as they inspected each person.

  “What is your business with the king?” a blonde maiden asked.

  “We bring him a wood kheshlar and news of the dangerous creatures who dwell in the lands to the north.” Shronan stepped forward.

  The tree kheshlarn maidens shifted their daggers toward the mage. He didn’t flinch as the points of three daggers floated mere millimeters from his throat. Instead, he smiled. Starlyn wondered if he could have unarmed them with a simple spell of magic. Perhaps their threat had been childish to one such as him.

  “And who are you?” asked a maiden.

  “Shronan Onderon, an old friend of King Elsargast.”

  The maiden with auburn hair held her ground while the other two relinquished their weapons before disappearing into the throne room. After a few moments the maiden’s came back, nodding.

  Starlyn walked the velvet carpet to the throne. The king wore white robes over gold scale mail. He was strong, proud, and taller than any other kheshlar. His jaw pointed and strong, his hair blond with flecks of silver. His face ageless, even his silver hair didn’t make him appear old, but wise. Gold rings adorned his fingers, shining with as much intensity as his golden throne. A thin gold circlet encrusted with rubies and emeralds rested on his head, marking him as king.

  “I have returned, my lord.” Starlyn knelt at the steps in front of his throne.

  “Starlyn, I’m glad to see you return safely. You may rise,” King Elsargast said. “Did you find your sister?”

  “Yes … she is with a group of dragon-like reptilian creatures called draeyks … she is leading them,” Starlyn said.

  Vil’ek shifted uncomfortably.

  “She’s alive? Hmm, this is not good news. The draeyks have always been leaderless. We will have to prepare for war, if it must come to that,” Elsargast said.

  “You knew of these creatures?” Starlyn’s eyebrow’s furrowed.

  “They were insignificant to us. Leaderless and scattered across the north, far away from being any trouble. However, if they are being united now, they may be a danger. Why does your sister lead them I wonder?”

  “She’s … changed,” Starlyn said.

  Elsargast raised an eyebrow. “Changed?”

  Shronan stepped next to Starlyn, resting his hand on her shoulder. She took a step back, lowered her head, keeping her eyes on the king.

  “She is no longer a kheshlar, but now the walking dead. She is a living dead form of a kheshlar. Her appearance has changed. The dark magic she used on herself before dying transformed her. The walking dead haven’t roamed this land in centuries. The undead return,” Shronan said.

  “The undead?” Elsargast whispered. “This is worse than I feared.”

  Vil’ek’s eyes widened. Starlyn had kept that news from him.

  “It is time my young friend. A new war is beginning,” Shronan said.

  “I gathered as much, the moment you strode into my throne room, Shronan. Our warriors must be called to battle. I do not like war. I hope this will be the last,” Elsargast said.

  “I know my friend, but sometimes there is little choice. Their army is not yet formed. They are constantly on the move. There is nothing we can do to end this swiftly. Instead, I suggest you guard the city. Make sure everyone is prepared,” Shronan said.

  “Of course … but where does it leave you?” Elsargast asked.

  “I will strike at their camps to try and weaken them.”

  “I assume you would like assistance?” Elsargast asked.

  “If you can spare her, I would like Starlyn with me, she is important in this war.”

  “Yes … yes of course, I suppose you will take my friend Vil’ek who has already been out with you in spite of his orders to stay behind …” Elsargast glanced to Vil’ek.

  “My lord … I just … I had to know.” Vil’ek gulped.

  “Yes, yes … I know you cared for her, Vil’ek. Go, get your closure. Report to me when it’s complete.”

  “As you wish, my lord.” Vil’ek bowed.

  “Other than Starlyn and Vil’ek, are there any others you had in mind?” Elsargast asked.

  “I will take Anaela with me as well, as I will be in need of a skilled archer,” Shronan said.

  “Anaela?” Elsargast raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes. We came across a party of slaughtered wood kheshlars. She was the only survivor,” Starlyn said.

  Elsargast’s eyebrows lowered. “I would rather her stay here so we can learn about her kin.”

  “She has no recollection of her past. All she remembers is waking up with her kin slaughtered. It appears she faced some head trauma during the battle. I think it would be safer if she stay by my side. Perhaps, there is something I can do to help her,” Sh’on said.

  “Yes … I suppose you are right, as you have always been. Take her along with the rest under my orders. But I would like to see her,” Elsargast said.

  Shronan turned. “Anaela, please step forward.”

  Anaela trembled as she came up the steps, standing by his side. She bowed her head to the king. He took her hand, kissing it softly.

  “Anaela, it is a pleasure to finally meet another wood kheshlar. I never thought I would lay eyes upon another. You are simply beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I do wish to learn more about you when you return, anything you remember or can tell me, I would be very interested to hear.”

  “Yes my … lord.”

  Elsargast smiled. “I know you may feel uncomfortable here, but if you cannot find your way back home, you will always have a home here with us.”

  “Thank you.” Anaela smiled.

  “Everyone is dismissed,” Elsargast said.

  They bowed before marching down the steps. Starlyn paused at the door to glance at her king. Elsargast stood, gazing out the window. He remained motionless for a long moment, watching his city, before tugging a thick green rope which hung down at the back of his throne. A large brass bell began to ring deep and slow, echoing through the city. His fingers clenched into a fist.

  “So … it has begun,” he whispered.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Arria sat alone in the forest, petting a large glittering oval object. The black egg dwarfed her hands, and compared to the other eggs, it seemed insignificant. It had been the smallest dragon egg she could find. She understood the difference now. It had been foolish of her to think the puny draeyks were dragons. No way would the draeyks have been a threat to the kheshlars, especially untrained.

  Arria’s mission was to train the draeyks to become an unstoppable force. A force to be reckoned with. She knew it unlikely she could conquer the kheshlars with the draeyks, at least at first.

  Arria’s finger traced grainy texture of the egg she snatched. The egg was harder than any rock or even her armor. She picked the egg because it had been small enough to sneak out of the dungeon, and its color appealed to her. Black had always been a favorite of hers, though she had never been able to express it. With how pale she used to be, black armor didn’t suit her.

  She choose silvers when she had been a kheshlar, with small amounts of black weaved throughout. Every metal she used had a blackened shadow to it. It became her prized possession, making her unique. Her arrows and her sword were always blackened steel.

  She stroked the egg like it had been her very own panther cub. Starlyn loved tigers, even helped raise a few from cubs, but Arria had preferred black panthers. Arria was unsure if dragon’s hatched the same color as the shell, but she determined it would be beautiful no matter what color it hatched. She didn’t know if it’d ever actually hatch, but she could hope. The draeyks said the eggs would only hatch if the time for dragons returned. It would be the choice of the dragon inside of the egg. Despite the unlikelihood, she kept it in her pack, se
cured to the back of her armor.

  After securing the egg in linen, she stood. She wondered if there were any black magic spells to aid in hatching a dragon. And she also wondered if such a creature could be controlled if raised from birth.

  She wandered through the quiet forest, pondering on her thoughts. The place the wood kheshlars described was clear. She knew she drew close. Huckleberry bushes were on each side of the path. Kheshlars loved huckleberries. Arria found herself eating a few as she passed.

  Her surroundings were quiet, too quiet. Birds stopped singing and critters fled. The forest around her showed more beauty than anything she’d ever seen.

  “Come out and play,” she said.

  She heard whispers above her. They did not show their faces, but she knew they were there. It sounded like there were thousands of voices.

  “Who are you. Why do you wish to speak to the likes of us?”

  “My name is Arria. I have come to ask for your support.”

  “What could you possibly want from us?

  The voices continued to whisper. Arria shifted. She thought she could be cold with her words, but these voices were chilling.

  “Do you wish to seek revenge on the high kheshlars who outcast you from this land? Surely they are not happy you have defied them and remain hidden. Now is the time to rise. Let yourselves be seen. It is time for the high kheshlars to fall, and for the wood kheshlars to rise. All you have to do is join me and you will have everything you desire.”

  “How do you know the king outcast us? That was long ago. Our desire is to be left alone.”

  “You have no desire to show yourselves to this land? Arria asked.

  “We only wish for peace.”

  “You can have peace if you join me.”

  “With how many more deaths? How many more of us will you kill?”

  “As many as necessary.” Arria gritted her teeth.

  “Necessary for what?”

  “To conquer this land,” she whispered.

  Her goal had never been to take over. The power she held over the draeyks consumed her into craving power. Knowledge of the dragon boosted her selfishness even more. She wanted a dragon by her side as she ruled. With a dragon at her side, everybody would bow. A smile slid across her face as she imagined the kheshlars bowing at her feet. She did not care to rule the humans as much as she wanted to dominate the kheshlars.

  She wondered what it would be like to have her sister rule at her side. They never got along perfectly. It may have been for the best Starlyn had been elsewhere. Arria loved her sister, wanting no harm to come of her. She hoped Starlyn wouldn’t put up a fight, but she knew then it wouldn’t truly be her sister.

  “As many as it takes to save my mother,” she whispered.

  “So you do have a heart? Find the well of souls, there is one there who may help you.”

  The whispers faded into echos until they completely disappeared. Arria felt alone. She glanced around but nothing changed. Her white hair caught a breeze, flowing into her eyes. Tears fell from her face as she collapsed to her knees.

  “I will save you mother, whatever it takes. It doesn’t matter how many will get in my path, I will find a way.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Starlyn stood frozen in her hallway, watching her mother in the bed. Her mother’s forehead was drenched. Aliqua sat on a stool by her mother’s bed. She dipped a rag into a clay bowl, wiping her mother’s face. They could do little to help her. No food sustained her.

  Shronan strode past Starlyn to stand at the side of the bed. He placed his hand on Aliqua who gawked up in surprise, but did not move. Starlyn was glad to have such a friend, someone who cared for her mother as if she were her own. Aliqua had no mother or father in Sudegam, she came from outside the lands a few hundred years prior. Her chocolate skin had been unlike any kheshlar in the city. Life for her had been harder. Most kheshlarn men wouldn’t try for her affection. It almost seemed as if they were afraid of her. Starlyn didn’t know why. She thought her skin tone would attract more since it resembled chocolate. It had always been the taste which drove males wild. One kiss of the hand gave them a small taste, but only with their lips could they get the full flavor.

  The mage’s hands glowed a soft emerald as energy surged from him to her mother. He shook his head in despair before touching her damp forehead. Shronan squinted his eyes, trying again. He shook his head, sighing.

  “I have never seen this before. I do not understand how a kheshlar can be so ill. I do not understand it …”

  “Neither do I. I wish I could find a cure. I cannot blame Arria for all she has done. I know in her heart, she only wants to find a cure for our mother. I’m afraid there is no cure. We will have to live with what comes next. As kheshlars, we do not expect to lose our parents. Perhaps it is a luxury of being immortal. I assume those humans in faraway lands come to terms with it, but it’s hard for me to. I already don’t have a father, unlike so many here in the city. Now, I will be left without a mother, father, and sister. I will truly be alone in a city where everyone else is united.”

  “I am sorry, Starlyn. I will ponder on this during our journey. There may be a cure. My power has no affect on her except for a bit of comfort and energy. It will not sustain her.”

  Tears swelled in Starlyn’s eyes as she leaned into the door frame. Her body shook as she came to the reality that her mother may not be saved. Shronan took her in his arms, holding her tight. She let her tears fall onto his shoulder, no longer caring if the world heard her. Aliqua stood, stroking Starlyn’s hair in comfort. Starlyn never thought she would lose everything she ever loved, but more and more it seemed like it became her reality.

  Starlyn removed a cloth bag from its strap, handing it over to Aliqua.

  “What’s this?” Aliqua asked.

  “When we found the wood kheshlars, almost all their valuables had been taken, except these. I don’t have much use for them, neither does the wood kheshlar we found, Anaela.”

  Aliqua pulled out a short sword with a open center, resembling a dagger on each side connected by metal link on its top and bottom. The sword sparkled in the candlelight.

  “It’s beautiful,” Aliqua said.

  “There are two of them. They are Anaela’s sister’s. Keep them safe.”

  “I will.”

  “We should get going Starlyn. I know you don’t want to leave, but we must. If we get on the road I may think of something useful,” Shronan said.

  “I know …”

  He moved out of her embrace, put his arm around her, and helped her through the hall. Aliqua bid farewell as they departed. Starlyn wiped her tears before stepping out the door. She didn’t want to appear weak in the eyes of the other kheshlars.

  Vil’ek stood outside with a force of a thousand kheshlars. Starlyn glanced behind her at the field of tulips around her home. Sudegam had been the most beautiful place she’d ever been. During all of her travels, she never found anything as beautiful. Nothing could ever replace it. She loved her home more than anything. She became desperate to return to it.

  “Goodbye,” she whispered.

  Anaela moved close to Starlyn, putting an arm around her in a small hug. “I am sorry about your mother.”

  “Thank you,” Starlyn said.

  “I wish I could remember mine. I don’t even know if she is alive or not.”

  “I promise I will help you find what has happened to your family.”

  “I know you will, I feel comfortable with you. Everyone else studied me rather than connecting with me. If you don’t mind, I would like to stay close to you.”

  Starlyn smiled. “I know what it is like to feel like an outcast. You are more than welcome to stay by my side.”

  “Thank you,” Anaela said.

  Starlyn turned around, refusing to look back at her mother’s cabin as she led everyone north. Shronan and Vil’ek marched close behind, but Anaela paced at her side. Starlyn missed her own armor. The leather armor she wore fit,
but it hadn’t been the same. It hadn’t been hers and fit a bit too tight for her bosom.

  As Starlyn gazed into the distance, memories flashed before her eyes. She saw the chains at her arms clear as day, and all the creatures around her. They were trying to hold her down. She screamed. The memory faded into the woman who came to visit her in the cell with soft black skin and complimentary features. She had seemed familiar. Starlyn couldn’t believe she didn’t recognize her sister. She only remembered the woman’s charcoal skin and snow white hair. Everything else became a blur when she remembered her corrupted sister.

  “Starlyn, are you alright?” Shronan stepped by her side. His head tilted down to study her.

  Her face blossomed into a cold sweat. Kheshlars weren’t prone to perspiration unless under high strain or stress. She glanced up to Shronan’s concerned eyes. He seemed to care for her deeply with a love which seemed more brotherly than romantic and it gave her great comfort. At first she had attraction for him when she remembered his remarks after she first awoke without clothing in his blankets. However, once she wore clothes again, his interests seemed altered.

  “I’m fine … it was only a dream.” Her eyes glistened, but she kept herself from shedding tears.

  “Are your dreams haunting you while you’re awake?” Shronan tilted his head, raising his eyebrows.

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  She knelt, gathering a flower that had fallen off its stem. She twirled it in her hands, staring blindly at it. The texture was soft in her grasp. She grew sad because such a gorgeous flower had been torn from its life-source. Its scent tickled her nose with berries and honey. It reminded her of simpler times when she would roam the forest with her sister. Those times were long gone. She sighed, dropped the flower, watching as it fluttered to the ground.

  Starlyn shuffled slow at first as she wished for a simpler life, but she knew she had no other choice. They decided to travel to the prison first. Starlyn couldn’t remember its location, but Shronan guided them from his memory. It stood nearly three weeks north of Sudegam. Starlyn knew it would be hard to set foot inside the dungeon again with the torture fresh in her mind. The scars on her arms continued to burn. Shronan healed most of her wounds, but he missed a few. She had two more scars which weren’t exposed, one on the inner thigh of her left leg, the other under her right breast. She dared not ask him for healing, not only because it would expose her body to him once more, but she wanted the marks to remember what she went through. She did not know why, but she believed she had to keep them.

 

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