Beastborne: Exiled Lands
Beastborne Chronicles, Book 2
James T. Callum
Copyright © 2020 by James T. Callum
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Also by James T. Callum
Pyresouls Apocalypse Series
Pyresouls Apocalypse: Rewind
Beastborne Chronicles Series
Beastborne: Mark of the Founder (Book 1)
Beastborne: Exiled Lands (Book 2)
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Dedication
This is for those of us who could use a safe harbor in these utterly ridiculous times. I hope the world of Aldim can provide shelter from the storm that continues to rage around us, and can offer you, dear reader, at least a moment’s respite.
And, as always, for my loving wife. Without whom none of these books would have ever seen the light of day.
Lastly, for my awesome Patrons who continue to support me and make sure I keep writing for years to come.
Foreword
Beastborne was originally written as a web serial. For those uninitiated into the wonderful world of web serials, they are often written long-form but with numerous chapters. It is not uncommon to see many serials reach hundreds of chapters per volume.
As a result, you may find some of the chapters are a bit different from what you might be used to.
Additionally, if you find any typos or errors feel free to drop me an email citing what chapter they’re in at: [email protected]. I update the manuscript whenever an error is found, so make sure you allow your reading device to update your ebooks! That way you will always have the best version.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
Chapter 143
Chapter 144
Chapter 145
Chapter 146
Chapter 147
Chapter 148
Chapter 149
Chapter 150
Chapter 151
Chapter 152
Chapter 153
Chapter 154
Chapter 155
Chapter 156
Chapter 157
Chapter 158
Chapter 159
Chapter 160
Chapter 161
Chapter 162
Chapter 163
Chapter 164
Chapter 165
Chapter 166
Chapter 167
Chapter 168
Chapter 169
Chapter 170
Chapter 171
Chapter 172
Chapter 173
Chapter 174
Chapter 175
Chapter 176
Afterword
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Newsletter
Hal’s Final Stats
Hal’s Skill List
Hal’s Spells & Abilities
Pyresouls Preview Chapters
Pyresouls Chapter 01
Pyresouls Chapter 02
Pyresouls Chapter 03
Pyresouls Chapter 04
Prologue
Aldim was ruled by its 13 Founders. Men and women who were blessed with Founder Marks and all the innate, godly magic they provided. Technically, they now numbered 14, with Hal’s disturbing capacity to wield his Founder Mark launchi
ng him among their ranks.
Rinbast had everything going for him. As the Founder of Fallmark, he ruled without challenge, and soon, all of Aldim would be saved by his hands alone. Every soul-darkening deed was in service to Aldim’s survival. Once the others witnessed him defeating the threat to this star, they would understand.
His family would understand.
Opening his eyes, Rinbast was unsurprised to find himself in the middle of a dark expanse littered with towering piles of square iridescent black stone.
After such a fit of rage, his momentary lapse in concentration would have invited an attack by his Beast.
Standing opposite Rinbast in the dark arena was a humanoid being of pure white light with two black pits for eyes that let out thick oily streams of black smoke. That smoke only doubled when a black grin creased his otherwise featureless face.
“Henser.” Rinbast spat his name like a curse. “I really don’t have the time for this. My rage is not aimed at you. But if you insist, I will gladly vent my frustrations over Hirash’s failure on you.”
Henser prowled like a caged animal - which, as Rinbast’s Beast, he was - looking for any sign of weakness.
Rinbast would give him none. He had lapsed momentarily in his protections. The anger at Hal’s continued evasion and the knowledge that the man had broken into his innermost bastion as if it were child’s play, had opened him up to Henser’s attack.
“If you but release me,” Henser began, claws of hardened light forming on his outstretched fingers, “we could subjugate this entire star and all those beyond. With your knowledge and my power? The Kindred themselves would cower before us!”
Rinbast snapped out a night-black sword, [Mancer’s Fear], that drank in the light coming off of Henser’s body. “I have an Archmage to punish, must we do this now?” His voice was calm but Rinbast knew better than to underestimate Henser. Though he put on an air of nonchalance, he was ready for the Beast.
Henser spread his arms out wide, and Rinbast had his answer. He wasn’t going to back down. One would think the Beast almost liked being beaten.
“Very well,” Rinbast said, drawing one arm across his armored chest and casting Occultation.
Swirling, shifting watery shadows spun around him. The effect vanished a second later for Rinbast, but for anybody looking at the Founder, his image would shift and waver like looking through a pool of water reflected by half a dozen funhouse mirrors.
Henser came at him in a rush, black oil dripping out of his slavering mouth. “Such tawdry tricks!” the Beast said.
“Perhaps,” Rinbast allowed, sidestepping Henser’s slashing claws. They were aimed directly at one of the many shifting forms that moved around Rinbast making him almost impossible to hit. A watery shadow was shredded by the attack and whisked away, but many more remained.
The Founder outstretched an arm and cast Hurricane Wing.
The towering phantasmic form of a Black Dragon reared where Rinbast stood and flapped its colossal wings. The Beast was caught out and blown away like a leaf in a gust. The razor-sharp wind cut deeply into his brilliant form.
Every cut made the Beast leak black oily ichor.
But Rinbast wasn’t done. Before Henser could even get his feet beneath him, he cast Tenebral Crush.
Shadows gathered around the struggling Beast and collapsed upon him, clinging to his form of hardened white light. Even Henser’s luminosity dimmed considerably under that crushing assault.
The Beast fell to one knee, then another as the weight of the Beast Magic spell fell upon him.
It would be like Henser was suddenly plunged into the very bottom of the Mariana Trench. The weight would be utterly immense. Rinbast waited and watched, but to his surprise, Henser was not giving up.
Rinbast took three steps closer to his struggling Beast, the other half of his soul. As a Beastborne, he was intrinsically tied to this creature. He had to keep Henser’s murderous strength in check, lest they turn into an eldritch abomination.
Covered in black crushing shadows, Henser collapsed to his hands and knees, struggling to stay upright. The fight was lost. Henser knew it. Rinbast knew it.
But this wasn’t just about winning the fight. Rinbast could have turned and walked away, back to the waking world where time would have all but stopped as this little farce played out.
This was about sending a message.
“You have to know I will never let you turn me into something like that,” Rinbast said almost tenderly. There was a hint of sorrow in his voice that the two could never see eye-to-eye. It was always a battle of wills for control, and it always would be.
No matter how much Rinbast grew used to the unique Strain inflicted upon him from casting Beast Magic, he could never fully quell Henser’s desires to usurp control.
“I do this for your own good,” Rinbast said, standing above the dark form on his hands and knees. Extending a hand over Henser’s body, Rinbast cast Railspike. A thick black railroad spike dropped out of his palm and hung in the air.
Rinbast twisted on the balls of his feet, bringing all his strength to bear as he curled his hand into a fist and slammed it down on the flat of the spike. There was a moment where physics refused to recognize the act, and then the spike moved so fast it seemed to teleport into Henser’s spine.
Henser’s strength gave out and he collapsed to the floor with a bone-rattling crash.
The glassy black flooring of the arena cracked and split apart. The twisting, spreading fissure grew to join the countless others. Rinbast’s soul was scarred with such fighting and marked with the lessons he imparted to Henser.
His Beast groaned pitifully, held in place by that most painful spell. Rinbast turned, dismissing Occultation and opened his eyes to the waking world.
Archmage Hirash stood before him on the tips of his posh velvet slippers, trying not to be strangled by Rinbast’s iron-hard grip around his neck.
They had discussed Hirash’s failures at length. It took more effort than Rinbast would have liked for the Archmage to see the error of his ways. He professed his desire to make amends, but when Hirash saw the door Rinbast had brought him to, a [Nightwood] door of repeating geometric designs like his Founder’s Mark, the Archmage balked.
That fear had shown the truth of the man. And seeing that weakness and his stammering excuses had finally let Rinbast’s anger slip free of its leash. And then, right on cue, Henser took advantage to try and seize control.
Well, Rinbast thought smugly. That didn’t work out so well for you, did it Henser?
He knew the Beast could hear him, and the grin that spread on Rinbast’s face nearly made Hirash faint. It would have been a simple affair - pathetically so - to snap the mage’s neck.
But he wasn’t about to do something so base or barbaric.
No, Hirash’s punishment was going to be much worse.
Rinbast fell into himself and activated his Founder’s Mark. As a Founder, he was marked with a geometric sigil branded onto his flesh. The very same sigil he knew Hal had. After all, they were the same man, if from a different timeline.
Resembling a golden 20-sided die that had been flattened like some papercraft project, Rinbast’s mark glowed with strength and vitality. It slid along his armored forearm to the back of his left hand as it always did when he summoned its strength.
Through the Founder’s Mark, he could cast any number of Sigils, magical spells of a sort that rivaled Beast Magic for savagery and strength. The only difference was, Founder Sigils consumed EXP instead of MP.
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