Skylar Gentry
Shadow Kalloire
Copyright © 2021 by Skylar Gentry
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
First edition
Cover art by Natalia Junqueira
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Contents
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
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER ONE
In the far east, across a barren sea in a desolate and forgotten place, a light emerged in an empty sky. At first it shone lazily, moving without purpose. An ancient one took notice. Weary eyes that had witnessed the beginning, and the end of what once was, observed with astute clarity. In anticipation her arthritic hand tightened around a cane fashioned from bone. The light grew brighter. It descended against the backdrop of nothingness, a vast shroud that stretched from one bleak horizon to the other. A flaming tail emerged as an orb accelerated over a land laid to waste. It drew nearer. Then a cosmic roar erupted and rosy hues of streaming light burst outward, throwing the ancient one to the ground when the orb impacted bone-riddled earth.
Slowly, the ancient one clambered to her feet. All that remained of the brilliant light was a ray of shallow radiance originating from the impact site. Waddling from one foot to the other, she carefully navigated a heavily damaged landscape. She coughed, clearing her airway as she pushed through the settling dust. On the edge of a crater she paused, staring eagerly at the fallen object while listening to its familiar hum. It cooed, pitching high and low. When her hand stiffly rose from her side, the recently born testalar throbbed. Her coy smirk faded as an ominous gust tried to smother the testalar’s brilliance. Loose soil spilled over the crater’s rim, covering the marquise-shaped object, and subduing its droning signal. The ancient one’s hand shot out. And in an elder tongue, using a forgotten language, she proclaimed in a gravelly voice, “Ash-car-ah—Awaken.”
The ground shook and splintered around her. Light particles raced outward from the dissolving testalar. The ancient one’s skin changed from dull gray to arctic white; her tawny eyes radiated between their natural color and that of rich green; a heavily worn and soiled cloak turned white with gold-colored stitching along the seams; stubby horns that grew from her upper forehead lost their patina, becoming youthful in the transition; and thinning white hair grew silver. Her cane lengthened and thinned, morphing from animal bone into a crystalline staff. Curved prongs formed at the top. As the particles coursing through her body reemerged, they coalesced at the top of her staff again into a testalar. Her appearance was one of youth while she still possessed the keen mind of experience.
Obscure lightning flashed across the sky, signaling displeasure with her transformation. She ignored the warning with a pestilent stare. The ancient one turned from the impact site and stared wide-eyed over a ravaged vista. Another gust slammed against her, pushing her back. With gritted teeth and a clenched fist, she dug in. The wind howled. The ancient one used both hands to firmly clutch her staff. The testalar flashed green with short pauses between. Her eyes glowed in sync with the flashes and then the cane’s tapered end was driven forcefully against the ground. A circular pulse shot outward, silencing the land. She smoothed her tousled hair. The ground trembled in a final warning. The ancient one responded with a simple nod and a pursed smile as if she were acknowledging the existence of an old friend. Then her staff was driven downward again, the act consuming her in brightness, and leaving in her place a white raven. The bird’s rocking call softened the grasp of perpetual darkness.
CHAPTER TWO
Deep in the south, firelight flickered across a cave’s clammy walls. Elinor, Daughter of Morbis, last of the light-bearers crouched over her dying father. A shabby blanket was lovingly tucked under his chin to keep the cold at bay. His vacant eyes pleaded for release.
“It is time, little mouse,” mumbled Morbis. “My journey here has ended. While another begins.” He coughed. Blood dribbled over his lip. Elinor wiped his chin while holding back tears. Morbis managed a meager smile. “Do not grieve for me. You must focus. It is your charge now to keep fire burning.”
“How? There’s so much darkness,” replied Elinor softly.
“Yes. But if fire still burns, there is always a chance.” He gasped for air. “Look to the east. You must find the Lancians.”
“They’re a myth, Poddy. There are no Lancians. If there were, we’d have found them by now.” Her face darkened. “Stories,” she hissed, “told to keep hope alive. The war is over. We’ve lost.” She covered her mouth as reality closed in.
Morbis pointed to his cloak. “Bring it to me, little mouse.” Watching blood from her father’s wounds pool beneath him, and knowing the end was near, she shuffled to fetch it. He resisted when she tried to drape it over him. “Look inside the inner pocket,” he directed. “There you will find your answer.” Elinor hesitated. “Since when do you second-guess yourself?” he teased.
“Oh Poddy,” Elinor said between sobs. “This is all my fault. You tried to stop me. I charged anyway.”
Morbis comforted his daughter by patting her hand. He gestured again. “The pocket,” he stated in a murmured voice. Elinor removed a tattered cloth, folded and smelling of rot. “Open it,” urged Morbis. The black cloth had several holes and various stains that had altered its pigment. “Quickly, little mouse.” The cloth was spread across the cold ground. Elinor stared at the embroidered image of a sea wolf stitched at the center. “There is your proof. A Lancian flag.”
She eyed the gold-colored symbol set against a dark background. It appeared exactly as she had imagined from listening to legends. Elinor searched for an explanation. “It’s a fake,” she finally concluded. “This isn’t real. Anyone could have stitched this.”
“You know it is real. You can feel it. I would have shared this sooner, but you were not ready to believe.” Morbis gripped her hand tightly. “To the east,” he said again. “Past the great sea wolf that guards the passage
.” He wheezed heavily, straining to breath. “That is where—”
“The man wolf?” interrupted Elinor, also believing the landmark to be a myth.
“There, and only there, will you find the help you will need.” Morbis looked at the dwindling fire, staring at its inviting embrace with a look that surprised his daughter. He appeared peaceful and unafraid. His breathing turned shallow. “Remember your teachings. Return what was given to us by the Lancians.” Morbis took his last lungful. “Fight little mouse…fight…” His hand went limp.
“Poddy?” Elinor shook Morbis. “Wake up, Poddy.” She saw flames reflected in his empty eyes; a warm glow radiated off his bald head. She turned away. “Look, look. The fire still burns. That means we can fight. It’s not over. I was wrong.” Elinor faced her father again. “Poddy!” she begged.
In a sizzling flare-up the fire intensified. Rising flames bathed the gloomy cave turned crypt in a burnished glow. Elinor felt unprecedented warmth cover her body. She suspected what was occurring and scrabbled across the floor to a satchel propped against the wall. Elinor opened the flap, searching for a pendant that had recently been given to her by Morbis. A pendant that had been handed down from one light-bearer to another. A pendant of unremarkable quality and smooth texture believed to have originated from the Lancians. She held it over her dead father. There was a whooshing sound as the flame, along with its precious light, was captured within the pendant’s transparent casing.
She stared at the rapidly dying embers then turned her attention to the litter she had made to drag her father to the cave. The vine lashing and branch cross-bracing was smeared with blood. While she had been preoccupied, Morbis’s body had disintegrated. Elinor pawed at her cheek. The cave was growing cold. Soon she would have to leave the cave, into darkness. She knew aurora-hunters would be searching for her. Flesh eaters. Ruthless abominations that stole that which was not theirs to take. Elinor massaged her head. Trembling fingers moved through her pixie cut hair and pushed lengthy bangs away from her pale face. Large eyes highly adept at seeing in the dark blinked rapidly while she tried to focus.
There was nothing left for her in the south. No sanctuary. Her father had instructed her to find the Lancians. But she doubted their existence and the evidence Morbis had presented. Growing up under the shadow of war, her earliest memory was of the Lancians, listening to stories of heroic deeds, and how they had kept the peace for generations. Elinor’s tribe had searched for any sign of them. Every scout that had been sent east failed to return. Disappointment turned to resentment. Resentment to anger. Most of her kind had accepted their dismal fate, becoming resigned to the reality that all was lost. But not Morbis. He was the lone exception. A beacon of courage in a world of despair. His bloodline had been fighting the growing shadow since its inception. But outnumbered and pushed to the brink, cornered in the deep south with no escape, Morbis and Elinor made their final stand. Legions of aurora-hunters had closed in, pounced, and then inflicted a mortal wound to end the resistance. Elinor was the lone survivor of a one-sided, but protracted war.
An abrasive screech echoed through the cave. Elinor quickly turned to leer at the hulking mass blocking her exit. An aurora-hunter opened its scissor-like mandibles. Pointed claws scraped against rock as it scanned the area. Elinor hesitated. She looked at where her father had lain, then to the tattered cloth next to the litter. The gold sea wolf glistened under the fire’s dying light. Her father’s words boomed in her consciousness. Look to the east. You must find the Lancians.
Elinor knew she had been detected by the aurora-hunter’s shrill clicks when the creature stood on its hind legs, exposing an armored underside layered with quills. A grotesque screech erupted. Elinor quickly rolled to the side to dodge incoming projectiles. She snatched the Lancian standard and stuffed it into her cloak while using her other hand to reach for the polearm weapon attached to her hip. The rod extended when she tightened her grip. Each end of her battle-ax had duel blades and a spear that protruded from the center. The weapon sliced the air as it twirled in her tiny hands. With the sting of defeat fresh and her father’s loss weighing heavily, Elinor released a bloodcurdling cry. She charged.
The aurora-hunter lowered its head and leapt forward. Elinor jumped, kicking her heel out for added momentum. The spear struck above the creature’s mandibles and between a row of tubular ears layered across the front of its head. Light coursed through the ax’s handle. Jagged energy discharged from both ends. The aurora-hunter staggered back. Elinor lunged again, striking the creature’s exoskeleton with uncanny strength for her size. The cave was immersed in flashes of light as the weapon’s electrostatic discharge arced from one rock surface to the other. Elinor jumped and kicked, driving the creature back with powerful jabs. She dodged counterattacks by using the ax handle to parry, forcing the slicing mandibles to her side. Self-motivating shrieks helped fuel her attack.
Enraged, the aurora-hunter stood again. It spread its front legs, revealing webbed skin that was attached on each side of its body, from the front knee to the back knee, trying to appear bigger and more menacing. Elinor never faulted. She dodged another volley of quills and then speared its underside, piercing the soft belly between hardened scales. The creature winced. She swung upward with her ax. Purple blood burst from its sliced chin. The aurora-hunter fell. Its body twitched, and a gurgling whimper escaped between rows of shattered teeth. Elinor maneuvered her weapon overhead. Fury raged in her glistening eyes. Light pulsated from one end of the ax to the other as she readied for a decisive blow. Then a speck of light caught her attention.
She stood frozen with weapon in hand, transfixed on the murky sky. In the distance, she watched a falling glow disappear behind a mountain range that separated Lower Lightendom from the sea, and the eastern realm where the Lancians were suspected to reside. A flash that momentarily banished forever night was followed by a far-off rumble. She felt the ground tremble. Darkness returned.
Elinor’s eyes blinked rapidly. She howled like a beast, then lowered her blade into the aurora-hunter’s head. The killing blow released the creature’s captured light. It seeped from its gray carcass in wispy streams. Elinor felt a warming sensation move down her body as light flowed into the pendant hanging from her neck. Its surface glowed buttery yellow. Again and again, she raised and lowered her ax until all that was left of the creature’s head was a pile of mush. Elinor collapsed to her knees. The energy surge had sapped her remaining strength. She breathed heavily. Aurora-hunter blood oozed down her face and over her tattered clothing. She stared ahead with her mouth agape. Her vision blurred. And then Elinor’s world went black.
CHAPTER THREE
Water. Elinor heard the surging energy of thundering falls plummeting from heights that seemed to touch the sky. It felt as though she were floating. Stalwart cliffs covered by flowering vines appeared from the mist surrounding her. Ravens. Hundreds of white ravens crowded a sapphire sky. She continued to drift. She again emerged from the mist to find herself looking down on a copper-domed fortress. It was surrounded by a curtain wall with sturdy towers and dense battlements, constructed of white stone. Noise. A faint hum lingered above her. No. It seemed to be coming from below her, releasing a peaceful resonance that called to her—reached for her. Water. Elinor felt it lapping against her hand. Her skin tingled. Numbness crept over her fingers and up her arm. She winced. Elinor’s eyes snapped open.
She pulled her hand out of the frigid water. Blurry eyes tried to focus. There was a light source nearby that exposed her surroundings. She raised her head. Elinor was on a raft made from logs lashed together. The familiar hum from her dream was originating from behind her. Confused and still weary, she slowly turned. Elinor gasped. Soft light revealed the silhouette of a cloaked stranger leaning against a staff with its back to her. She searched frantically for her weapon.
“Fear not, child,” replied a silky voice. “We mean you no harm.” Elinor eyed her retracted polearm leaning against her satchel placed behind the
stranger. “If it makes you feel better, by all means, take it.” A mocking grunt filled the awkward stillness. “Quite ironic, really. Those fowl beasts cannot swim. A flawed design we are afraid. Rest assured you are quite safe here.” The voice sighed. “Perhaps you assess your sidearm is required for protection against us? If so, take it, little mouse.”
Elinor’s eyes widened. “Who are you?” she asked with disdain.
“Who we are is irrelevant. What matters is how you get from here to there.” Elinor sprang for her weapon. Blades extended as she scampered away from the stranger. She stood in a sideward fighting stance at the raft’s edge, one foot in front of the other, holding her weapon across her chest and contemplating a leap into the water. “Unwise,” the stranger said. “For while beasts on land cannot reach you, there are others that will not take kindly to your presence in the river.”
“Let me off.”
“As you wish, little mouse.” The raft turned for the shore when the stranger’s staff was lowered.
“Stop calling me that,” Elinor demanded between gritted teeth. “Only my poddy called me that.”
“And now he is dead.” Elinor gripped her weapon tightly. Her hands trembled. The stranger continued, “You must come to accept his passing. His gift is not to be taken lightly.”
Elinor had heard enough. She shuffled forward as she raised her ax. Possessing catlike reflexes, her intended target turned so rapidly that Elinor saw but a blur. She was blinded by intense light coming from the top of the stranger’s staff. She tried to halt her advance but lost her footing on the raft’s slippery surface. Elinor fell, hitting the back of her head. Blood trickled down her neck. The ax clattered against the logs. Dazed, she stared at the stranger hovering over her with glowing eyes surrounded by black sockets that contrasted with snow-white skin, and gleaming silver hair. Dull horns were visible from under its cloaked head.
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