Praise for Titanian Chronicles
“An engaging and cinematic work of fiction with intense romance moments to offer readers.”
~Readers’ Favorite
“I absolutely loved how the bond between mates manifests.”
~ Beyond the Covers Blog
“Ms. Saccenti has built a world that captivates its readers from start to finish…”
~Ind’Tale Magazine
“A beautiful whirlwind tale of eternal love…”
~International Review of Books
By
Victoria Saccenti
The Last Danann, Titanian Chronicles
Copyright 2021 Victoria Saccenti
ISBN 978-1-7363589-5-5
Editor: Linda Ingmanson
Cover Design: Scott Carpenter
Formatting: Anessa Books
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of fiction or are used in a fictitious manner, including portrayal of historical figures and situations. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
Essence Publishing
Victoria Saccenti Writes
SOUTHERN EGYPT…
Thebes, 1000 BC
The reed skiff reached the makeshift dock on the eastern shore of the Nile. A spot centered between the edge of Karnak and the obelisks at the gate of the Luxor temple, the sanctuary of the south. The fisherman planted his heavy foot on the wooden platform, steadying his vessel. “You must hurry, stranger. The storm is upon us.” Warily, the fisherman glanced over his shoulder.
A massive wall of dust and sand had already blotted out the sun. Now it raced from the west, a ravenous monster poised to ingest Amenhotep III’s temple, the mighty Karnak complex, and every powerless victim in its path.
Holding an edge of his robe’s hood over his nose and mouth, Kailen rushed along the avenue of sphinxes in mid-construction, heading southeast past the commoners’ village. His goal was a solitary mud hut belonging to Khnurn, the most powerful wizard on the planet.
Decades ago, Khnurn’s hut had been part of the village, but as word of his amazing miracles spread among the population, Pharaoh and his court magicians feared his divine authority might suffer. An unusual situation developed: Pharaoh’s godlike power had to remain unquestioned, and casting out the sorcerer could prove dangerous to all. As a result, magical consultations were banned and the village was moved a few huts at a time. When the shift was accomplished, Khnurn’s abode stood all by itself.
Rule breakers were easily spotted and castigated by the authorities. However, people in need of powerful magic weren’t so easily repressed. The desperate, willing to risk life and limb, found ways to sneak in, either in the dead of night or at odd hours. No punishment was too harsh if the impossible was achieved: the return to health of a dying child, the spark of love in a cold, distant heart, acquired wealth, and rise in status.
Kailen reached the door’s hide flap just as the outline of his hand disappeared within the roiling sand. Murmuring the enchantment’s password, given to him ages ago, he went through. The blustering, blinding winds remaining outside.
“Peace be with you.” Kailen bowed.
“And to you, Danann lord.” Khnurn returned the greeting from his cushion next to the hearth. “You may shake the dust at the entry. Sabah will clean the mat after the storm passes. Leave the robe on the post and the shoes below. Come, join me by the fire.” The wizard showed no surprise in his voice. He must have seen Kailen’s arrival in one of his many scrying sessions. “Rest your weary body.”
Kailen sat on the luxurious multicolor silk brocade pillow Khnurn had propped up for him. The opulent fabric belied the humble outward appearance of the hut.
Despite the apprehension a meeting with the great wizard elicited, he addressed the purpose of his journey to Thebes. “I beg your indulgence, Master—”
Khnurn raised a silencing finger. Kailen pressed his lips into a line.
“Supper before a consultation.” The mage dipped a cast-iron ladle into the cauldron, stirred a few times, releasing the reassuring aroma of some kind of spicy stew and brought it up to his nose. Ignoring the rising vapor, he tasted the liquid, then smacked his lips with uninhibited enjoyment. “Mmm, delicious. Sabah has outdone herself.”
The slim, dark-haired woman passed Kailen a ceramic bowl and wooden spoon and an identical set to the wizard. With a soft rustle of her cotton skirts, she faded within the shadows behind the hanging tapestries. A bewildering possibility considering the hut had no corners or separate rooms he could discern. He remembered where he was and tossed the question aside. Mysteries were normal in Khnurn’s home.
“Give me your bowl, Danann.”
As the mage extended his hand and leaned closer to the simmering cauldron, the lines on his weathered face took on a reddish hue. A deep scar that cut straight down from his permanently arched eyebrow to his cropped beard shifted. His gold-and-diamond ankh pendant, a gift from primordial god Atum swung out of his robe. Swiftly, he tucked it back inside. Rarely did he allow anyone a glimpse of the fabled piece.
Khnurn was a study in contrasts: grave, ageless, and mischievous. His piercing golden eyes danced with an amused light as if he were privy to a humorous tale or knew a joke most creatures didn’t. Rumors about his age and origins abounded. The oldest tribal leaders swore the mage was an unintended product of Hades’s magic. Others argued Kronos created the sorcerer when he returned from exile to exact his revenge against Zeus. As guesses and rumors spread, so did his mystique. One fact was certain: unassuming and private, Khnurn wielded the all-encompassing magic of the universe on Earth.
“Smells good.” Kailen blew on the steaming liquid.
“Cooked with your requirements in mind, Danann. Strictly vegetables. Eat. You’ve been on the road awhile.”
Yes, he was tired and starved. Turning his attention to the stew, he cleaned his bowl.
Khnurn laughed. “More?”
“Please.” Kailen presented his bowl. The mage promptly filled it, and both fell silent again.
He ate the second helping as quickly as the first, his body appreciative of the nourishment. Kailen dropped his spoon in the empty bowl, and the enigmatic Sabah emerged once more from the shadows. Moving swiftly, she whisked his bowl away and reached out for Khnurn’s. As she did, he grasped her wrist. His smile brightened his features.
“Thank you, mistress.”
As Sabah bowed, a beauty spot above the left corner of her full lips came into view. She stacked the dishes, and returned to the shadows. Renewed curiosity gnawed at Kailen. He squashed it before an impertinent question ruined this crucial meeting. His people stood at the brink of extinction.
“How may I help you?” Folding his hands, Khnurn reclined an elbow on his cushion. His demeanor remained as calm and as easy as when Kailen had arrived.
A frisson of despair coursed over him. The sudden certainty that the fate of his race had already been decided struck his soul with panic. He hes
itated. Would a few extra moments of ignorance keep the illusion of hope alive?
He exhaled, seeking a fortitude he didn’t feel, and voiced his question. “Have you seen our path, Master? Is there hope for us, or are we doomed to fade?”
Khnurn stared at an indistinct spot, worrying with the tips of his fingers the edge of his beard. “The High Kings have been tricked. The Tuatha Dé Danann’s time on earth has ended. Now it is time for the Tír na nÓg, the eternal land of youth, awaits.”
“Is… Is this the universe’s final ruling?”
“It is, Kailen. Take heart. Your people won’t be forgotten.”
“Could we not strike a bargain with the invaders?”
Khnurn released his beard. His movements were slow and precise as he stoked the coals in the hearth. A red gleam illuminated the room, and long, dark shapes danced on the tapestries.
“In haste, a poor bargain was struck.”
“Gods!” Kailen exclaimed. “I have traveled long miles to seek your counsel. My lords swore they would wait for my return.”
“The Milesians have outwitted your leaders. As conquerors and winners, they’ve opted to rule the land aboveground. Your kind must accept defeat and travel to the great beyond. One of your last duties with the Tuatha Dé Danann is to assist Manannán, god of the sea. He will guide your people in their journey through the sidhe mounds.”
“But that sentence means oblivion.”
“Not quite. The Tuatha Dé Danann are talented and beautiful, and humanity worships both. Myth and legend will repeat their stories, albeit with some confusion and contradictions.” He laughed softly. “Future human generations will call the Tuath Dé sidhe and fae. Paintings will be made, books written in their honor. Now heed my words…” Khnurn frowned, and his voice dropped an octave. “Under no circumstances will the sword of light travel underground or be lost in the land of eternal youth. You must retain the Claíomh Solais to serve on this plane.”
“Alas, the sword is one of our most prized possessions.” Kailen pressed a hand against his chest. His heart ached for his race. “How did we offend the universe? Must we be shamed in every way, stripped of everything we love?”
“No shame. Never shame.” Khnurn narrowed his eyes. “This sacrifice is required for the sake of eternal life and order in the cosmos. Your people may keep the cauldron, stone, and spear. However, the sword is needed on Earth.” He punched his cushion. “Remember, Kailen. You will be its keeper until such time when you join the Titanians. You will teach Lord Troels, leader of the great race, how to duplicate the weapon for others to use.”
“Forgive me, Master. I’m at a loss.”
Khnurn crossed one ankle over the other, pulled a second cushion behind his waist, and leaned back. “So many things I can do, except ever get truly comfortable. I need your help, Sabah.”
The lady emerged out of the dark, a large cushion in hand. Evidently, she was an even greater sorceress, as she anticipated Khnurn’s needs before he spoke. She shuffled behind him. As he leaned slightly forward, she slipped the pillow where he’d indicated.
“Ah…much better, my angel of mercy.” By the time Khnurn smiled, she’d already walked away. Turning a little on his side, Khnurn propped his head on the heel of his hand. “As I was saying, the universe demands your obedience, Kailen. Your compliance guarantees the eternal peace of your race in Tír na nÓg. It’s not fair to you, and the road will be long and solitary. But mark my words, in the end, you will be rewarded.”
Kailen attempted to smile. He was certain an ugly grimace emerged instead. While he tried to order the insanity in his mind and allow resignation to settle in, Khnurn’s voice droned on. Kailen blinked to catch up with the mage’s instructions.
“This is the order of events. You will assist Manannán. Once the last Danann has passed, you’ll take the sword to the Seelie Court. Oberon is expecting you. A word of advice. The fairies are stunningly beautiful, charming, and tricky. Many will tempt you. Don’t form attachments during your time at the court. If you do, your heart will break. Your future lies further ahead in time, not with the fairies.”
Kailen’s sense of doom increased by the minute. “Why me? I’m not a great leader. There are others, worthier and more illustrious. Why can’t I go away, diminish with my people?”
Khnurn sighed. “You are a male of valor and integrity, and the universe has set its eyes on you. A deadly struggle is coming. The future of all magical and nonmagical creatures will hang in the balance. You’ll rally allies to the battlefield and win the war. The Titanians exert godlike powers, but are few in numbers. They’ll need your help.”
Kailen huffed. “Titanians, the Seelie Court… Do you realize how crazy all this sounds? I’m Tuatha Dé. I know nothing about Titanians or the fae.”
“You’re a disciplined warrior, though.” Khnurn’s eyes crinkled. “Members of the Unseelie Court are creating trouble. Oberon wants to stamp that out. Send everyone back to their rightful place.”
“And the Titanians?”
“That’s an entirely different matter.” Khnurn sat up. “What have you heard about the daemon race?”
Kailen tilted his head. “A rumor reached us in Inis Fáil. It’s said Hades made them.”
“An insane creation, pure abomination, that’s my opinion. In his quest for universal supremacy, Hades lost control of his magic, and the rest of us have to deal with the consequences. Daemons are currently subdued, existing in their separate dimension. I have foreseen a deadly uprising. A clash between the daemon armies and the Titanian allied forces.”
“Why?”
The scar on Khnurn’s face shifted as he sneered. “Power, a permanent return to the earthly plane and control. But a personal reason will arise. Astarot, their leader, will catch a glimpse of Adalheidis, Lord Fritiof ’s mate, and desire her for himself. The daemon lord won’t stop until he gets her.”
Perspiration dotted Kailen’s face. He ran his fingers over his forehead. “You speak about the future so easily. It’s well known the future is elusive, tentative at best.”
“The outcome has been revealed to me.” Khnurn’s voice lowered and turned distant. “Calamitous events, famine, pestilence, and bitter, colder temperatures will push humanity from the Middle Ages to a new era of enlightenment. Titanians will be too busy protecting and guiding humanity through disaster and growth. The daemon race will seize their distraction to initiate hostilities, several skirmishes at first. The final uprising will coincide with the creation of the printing press in Europe. You’ll have joined Troels and his sons by that time. The decisive battle will take place high in the Caucasus.”
Time meant nothing to Khnurn. He saw and discussed eras as if he’d already lived them. “Master, I… This is beyond my comprehension. I’m still adapting to my people’s fate. Let alone…”
“I gave you list of duties to complete.” Khnurn waved a dismissive hand. “For now, concentrate on the first step. And while you serve Oberon—I’d say about nine hundred years will handle his problem—you’ll meet every magical species in the world and form unbreakable bonds. Your name will be spoken with admiration.”
“Nine hundred years,” Kailen muttered.
“That is but a tiny speck in the continuum of time and the endless cosmos. Don’t fret, Oberon is a mischievous and fun-loving king. He’ll keep you entertained. And before you know it, you’ll be moving on to your next assignment.”
Kailen’s mind reeled with the immensity of Khnurn’s timeline. “When?” One word was all he could muster.
“I will send word.”
An enigmatic smile appeared. The wizard returned to stoking his coals, leaving Kailen floating in a cloud of unanswerable questions.
One thing was certain: he’d been separated from his people forever. The life he’d expected to experience since birth had been displaced, lost to him. He stared at his new road with sad awareness. He’d never take anything for granted again.
CAUCASUS MOUNTAINS…
&nb
sp; Upper Svanetia Province, AD 1450
Kailen stopped his mount at the edge of a lookout escarpment. The stallion reared and snorted, expelling thick vapor out of his nostrils. Late spring had brought much warmer temperatures to the lower levels on the mountain range, but stubborn winter struggled to kept a tight grip on the uplands.
Covering his eyes against the sunlight, Kailen scanned the much-changed landscape below. A verdant valley emerged out of a thinning layer of snow. Its narrow brook—water collected from melting ice uphill—split the rolling hills as it continued on its journey to the base.
Three days ago, as he rode out to scout the enemy’s position and numbers, human activity had been present in the small village. Farmers tilled the soil and livestock grazed on both sides of the brook. Thanks to Nadrine’s powerful incantations instilling a mysterious and irresistible fear, the townspeople had taken enough belongings to live for several days, including grain and pigs for food, and rushed to the next village below. There, they would await the passing of this unknown evil.
Now, groupings of colorful military tents with their respective species’ signage dotted the field. The Titanian leadership displayed on their tents a large T with a Celtic ribbon wrapped around its middle. Close by, the Auricians had erected their golden shelters. The elves displayed a rather realistic image of Medusa’s monstrous head on theirs. Ever since the last remaining vials of Medusa’s left-side poison had been dug up in an abandoned Tripoli temple, Alain, leader of the elves, had claimed the Gorgon as his symbol. He’d vowed to use the deadly potion against the minions, counteracting their venom during the fight. Shifters, wolves, foxes, and pumas fought as one group. They had no use for symbols or signs adorning their shelters. The spot set aside for the vampires was empty. Eachann and his friends had agreed to teleport in when the clash began.
The Last Danann (Titanian Chronicles, #2) Page 1
